#he would look at me and let me know his intent and his want of the current situation | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

miabebe · 3 days ago

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Camp Seventeen: Chapter 4

Pairing - Afab!reader x ot13

Word count - 17.5K

Genre - Greek Demigod AU! We’ve got crack, smut, fluff , angst, hurt, comfort, all of it in this series, buckle up! Warnings below the cut

Previous chapter

Chapter summary - As many truths come forth, life on camp as you know it begins to change. After living a life which was never your choice, you now had to choose between family and love. But more importantly, would they choose you?

A/n - I do have a taglist so comment on this post to be added! This is yet another heavy chapter, I tried to put as much as I could to make up for all the time this took :( I'm so sorry and I hope you have fun reading <3

Thanks again to the loml @monamipencil for all the time she so sweetly takes out for me T.T

Warnings - as usual, to be added after a week.

“Please….”

It was the only thing ringing in your head, your fingers tightening their grip in Seungcheol’s dark mane as his mouth refused to leave yours, like it was the only thing keeping him alive.

Why now? What changed?

The thought ran in the back of your mind as Seungcheol let out a soft groan, his teeth sinking into your lower lip as he pulled back just a little, just enough to breathe but you lurched for his mouth again. It didn’t matter why, all that mattered was that this was finally happening and you didn’t want it to stop.

Mirroring your desperation, he sat you on the hood of his car, freeing his hands to push the hair away from your face and hold it surprisingly delicately, like he couldn’t believe he was really kissing you. It felt like he was conflicted between wanting to look at you and wanting to devour you but when you wrapped your legs around his waist, he chose the latter.

At least it seemed like it until your hand slipped between your bodies, reaching for the button of his pants and Seungcheol pulled back with a jerk, like he had been electrocuted.

“Oh…” You drew your hands back quickly. “I thought you wanted to….”

“I uh…” He looked around, pushing his hair back. “Y/n, we are out in the open…”

Yeah but in the middle of fucking nowhere, with not a soul in sight.

But of course.

It wasn’t the location that was the problem, it was him. You should have seen this coming, you should have known that with every step Seungcheol took forward, he took two back.

Scoffing, you slid off the car, tucking your hair behind your ears, trying not to let how disappointed you were show on your face. Seungcheol glanced at you, gulping audibly.

“Y/n I…”

“I don’t even know why I keep falling for this-”

“Please…”

“What does that word even mean anymore Seungcheol?” You raised your hands in defeat, ready to walk away. “I don’t want to know, I don’t want to hear it-”

Grabbing the back of your neck, Seungcheol pulled you up against him again, mouth hot on yours. When you tried to push him away, he didn’t let go, pressing his forehead against yours, breathing in all that tension between the two of you.

“Let me go.” You tried to free yourself. “Choi Seungcheol-”

“I don’t think you can even begin to fathom just how much I want you…. how much I want this.” He groaned. “I didn’t think I’d ever get to hold you like this.”

You frowned, pulling back. “Why, because of the force field?”

Seungcheol shook his head, “No- I mean yeah, that was one reason, I still don’t know you’re unaffected but thank heavens-” He looked at you intently. “- staying away from you has been excruciatingly painful.”

“Then why?” You wrapped your hands around his wrists, hoping he wouldn’t let go like always. “Why are you staying away from me Cheol? Why can’t we-”

“Do you want this?” He whispered like he was unsure and you blinked at him, just a little surprised. “Right here, right now, do you-”

“Choi Seungcheol, for a man this big, your brain really is the size of a pea.” Rolling your eyes, you shook your head. “I’ve wanted this since the moment I set foot in camp and my eyes on you-”

“Then fuck everything else,” With a swift movement he spun you around, the shriek of surprise lost in your throat, your palms finding the hood of the car. Seungcheol did not wait for you to even process what was happening - pushing your hair over your shoulder, his hands quickly worked the strings of your armor behind, mouth by your ear. “I want you and I don’t care who’s watching.”

Before you can ask him who the fuck could possibly be watching the two of you, he let out what seemed to be a frustrated groan at the complexity of the lace. You were just about to undo it yourself when he reached for the dagger strapped to your waist and with a swift movement, ran it across the strings, slicing them open.

“Cheol what-” You whined. “How am I supposed to wear this again?”

“Armour is for protection.” He slid the bronze plates off your torso, dropping them to the ground as you turned to face him again. “And that’s what I’m here for. I got you.”

Grinning, you grabbed its twin blade and mirrored his actions, undoing the knotted strings on his shoulders, freeing him of his gear. Taking a momentary step back, the two of you quickly got rid of the various metallic appendages and weapons lodged everywhere, dropping them onto the forest floor and you were barely done when Seungcheol pulled you towards him, kissing you again.

It was different now, slower, deeper, more relieved but somehow more electrifying - you could feel your boobs up against the hard muscles of his chest, his fingers found the sliver of skin between your top and pants, pressing into it and your hands gripped around his biceps, nails digging in.

For some reason you suddenly realised, that though in the last 3 days you had been with 3 different men, Seungcheol was the first one that it genuinely felt intimate with, the first one you had even kissed, nevermind with such passion. And god did you want to keep kissing him but the memory of Dionysus's dildo ran in your mind and hell could empty all its devils here and you wouldn't care. You just wanted him deep inside you.

This time, when your hand found the button of his pants again, Seungcheol didn’t stop you, moaning into your mouth instead. Just as you unzipped it, he quickly slid them off, the fabric pooling at his feet and your hands moved to their next target, his shirt.

“Wanna see you too.” He kissed you along your jawline, playing with the hem of your shirt.

You laughed softly, working the buttons, “Then take it off.”

“Then I'll have to stop this.” He continued the trail of kisses down to your neck. “And I don't want to.”

Smiling to yourself you undid the last button, pushing the fabric aside, thanking the universe that today Seungcheol went commando in his pants. As his lips found your shoulder, your eyes caught Seungcheol’s dick, already familiar with exactly how it looked but the real one was so much better. He was unbearably hard, hissing when you wrapped your hand around the base.

“Better than you imagined?” He sounded cocky when you began stroking his length, letting out a soft sigh.

“What makes you think I imagined it?”

Seungcheol chuckled. “Baby, there's only a wall between our rooms which mind you, is really thin. I've heard you take my name before.”

You froze as his hands gripped your waist tighter.

“Faster cheol, harder cheol, Right there cheol…. I heard it all.”

Okay yeah, there were days you had indeed slid your fingers in and out, imagining it was him ravaging you but why didn't your stupid ass ever doubt if he could hear it??

‘You sounded like I was doing a good job.” He smiled against your skin.

“You mean I was doing a job.”

Getting yourself off was not new to you. You didn't really have any boyfriends but the handful of people you had slept with in your life were disappointing to say the least, devastatingly incapable of making you feel any pleasure. Of course after Soonyoung revealed that demigods could not be satisfied by mortals, it made sense why your own hands and toys were the only ones that could make you cum. You had to admit though, getting off to the thought of Seungcheol fucking you into his large white bed gave you some of the best orgasms you ever had. He didn't need to know that. The way he was smiling at the memory of you moaning his name had inflated his ego enough.

“Oh you were doing a good job?” He detached his mouth from you at last, drawing back, eyes scouring your face. “Why don't you let me see this time?”

As he kicked his pants off and took a step back then another, you looked at him in disbelief.

“You want me to imagine you fucking me when you're standing right in front of me-” You ran your eyes down his body covered only by his shirt hanging off his shoulders. “-looking like that?”

Seungcheol nodded. “Lean against the car and spread your legs for me baby.”

“Cheol-”

“Do it Y/n.”

“But-”

“That's a command soldier.’

This asshole. Of course Choi Seungcheol made use of hierarchy during sex.

“Yes Chief.”

Rolling your eyes you pulled your pants down your legs, tossing them to join your gear on the forest floor. Your panties were slick with arousal, uncomfortably sticking to you, the dark wet spot only getting larger. Eyes flickering down between your legs, Seungcheol clasped his hands behind his back standing at ease, the way he did when he oversaw morning training.

“So you're just going to watch?” You licked your drying lips. “Are you not even going to touch yourself?”

If you did, it was only fair that he did too.

But Seungcheol shook his head. “I'm yours to do whatever.”

God did you want to throw your arms around him and pull him into another kiss but he seemed so damn insistent that you put on a show. Fine, if that's what he wants, you'll give it to him.

You ran your fingers over your wet panties, sighing at the way a sudden jolt ran down your body when they grazed your clit. You were only just about to push the fabric to the side and slide your fingers into your pretty wet hole when you felt a familiar twist in the pits of your stomach. Surprised, you found yourself almost buckling forward, hands quickly gripped the car behind you trying to find balance as the coil tightened, building the feeling inside. Legs shaking, you attempted to squeeze them and chase the feeling when in a flash Seungcheol was inches away from you, his hand holding your legs apart, shaking his head.

Shutting your eyes, you threw your head back, your entire being almost convulsing as your organsm hit you hard and you came with a not so soft moan.

As you tried to catch the breath you hadn't taken all this while, Seungcheol leaned closed, whispering in your ear.

“Still think it was you who did a good job?”

Eyes widening, you looked at him, lips parted in shock.

“You mean that was… that you…”

Seungcheol chuckled, moving his hand closer to your core, letting his fingers graze your even more wet panties.

“An orgasm is caused by nerves and nerves carry electric impulses.” Given your frown, he continued. “I'm the Son of Zeus, anything with electric tendencies is under my control.”

That meant all those days, sitting on the other side of the wall, Seungcheol had made you cum untouched.

‘Did that feel good?” He whispered as your breath slowly came back to normal, his hand pushing the fabric of your underwear, his finger running between your folds, feeling how wet you were. “Looks like it did.”

You nodded slowly.

“Now it's my turn.” And without a warning, he slipped two fingers into your hole, as your hands flew to grip his biceps. “but I'll need to prep you first baby.”

Oh you knew.

While his fingers pumped in and out of you, you pulled Seungcheol closer by the collar of his shirt, kissing him, hands trailing up into his thick hair. You didn't know obscenely kissing someone like this out in the open while his fingers stretched you open could feel this arousing. You didn't think it could get any better until Seungcheol broke away, whispering into your ear, “I'm going to fuck you now.”

A shudder ran down your body and a shriek left your mouth as Seungcheol spun you around once again, your palms finding the hood of the car the balance over but this time, you could feel his erection against your ass. Wasting no time, he lined his tip against your hole, slowly sinking in, both of your moans matching with the same relief, the same arousal. Choi Seungcheol was fucking you at last.

Pushing all the way till the hilt, Seungcheol pulled back, gripping your wrist tight but thrusting into you slowly. You couldn't tell if he was being gentle or savoring it - you just needed him up in your guts.

“Cheol.” You breathed, making him lean over to hear you. “Didn't you hear me in your house? I like hard and fast.”

Chuckling, Seungcheol picked up the pace, snapping his hip into yours, the impact surely bruising where your skin grazed the car. You could tell he was still controlling himself, holding back like he was afraid of breaking you.

“And rough.” You added and that seemed to do the trick.

Letting out a groan, his hand immediately found the nape of your neck, pushing you down onto the hood, devoid of all the prior gentleness. Despite your whole upper body being pressed against cold metal, you smiled to yourself and as if he could not get enough, Seungcheol gathered both your wrists with his free hand and pinned them to your lower back, fucking you like an animal in the jungle.

Hell yes. God yes you wanted this and the way he felt was so much better than you thought, his dick eventually finding all the right spots, making you feel so full of him. Oh you couldn't wait to have him fill you but before that, you felt your orgasm approaching, everything in your stomach tightening again.

“Fuck, I'm….” You struggled to speak with the way your cheek was pressed against the hood. “I…”

Sliding his hand from the nape to wrap your neck, Seungcheol pulled you back up against him, hips not stopping their thrusts even for a moment.

“What is it baby? Gonna cum for me?”

You nodded, feeling your walls fluttering around his length, hands desperately trying to hold on to anything.

“Good girl.” He whispered, bringing the hand on your waist to your clit and almost instantly you could feel yourself coming, tightening around him like a vice.

“That's it.” Seungcheol groaned, slowing down his pace as your walls clamped around him. “That's it baby, you did so good.”

“Cheol….” You whispered, finding your breath again, barely down from your high, legs still trembling. “I wanna feel full of you.”

Clearly he was just as desperate to come inside you because all of a sudden, the man who seemed like he had unending stamina was losing his rhythm. You tightened your walls around him, squeezing his length when it was deep inside you, arching your back to help him reach further in. He had just about given you what you were dying to have when out of no fucking where, you heard Jeonghan saying Seungcheol’s name.

The latter instantly halted his actions, looking around just as panicked as you until the call of his name again made him realise where it was coming from. The looking glass.

Whispering a sorry against your ear, Seungcheol pulled out slowly, leaving you unclenching around nothing as you felt your arousal leak down your thigh filthily.

What the hell??

Seungcheol rummaged through the discarded gear, pulling his looking glass, being careful to show only his face given neck down, he was an absolute mess.

“Han.”

“Cheol, what's your status quo?”

Groaning you pulled your panties back into place. Evidently this was not going to be a short conversation.

“We uh, just reached the forest.”

“Just? Shouldn't you have reached an hour ago?”

Seungcheol looked at you guiltily but continued nevertheless. “Y/n messed up reading the map so we had to take a longer route.”

You raised your eyebrows. Oh, he was playing dirty. Then you could too.

Walking up to him, you dropped to your knees, taking Seungcheol’s pretty cock in your hands, his eyes widening. On the other hand Jeonghan, oblivious to it all, went on.

“Okay, Jihoon and Hansol scoured their woods already, there's no traces of the monster there. Negative for Joshua and I too. We haven't heard from Seokmin and Chan though, I assume Min's pegasus is giving him a tough time. What about you?”

You had no idea if Seungcheol was listening to him or pretending to, because all this while, you had been very silently and very skillfully, sucking his dick.

“Cheol?”

“Yeah.” He tore his eyes away from you with much difficulty, turning to his friend. “I uh… I don't know yet, I mean, we haven't tried to track it yet, w-we just r-reached.”

You smiled at his stuttering words, knowing he was close.

“Okay but be careful. My gut feeling is that it's in the Nyx forest. What better place for a monster to thrive right?”

“Fuck-” Cheol muttered as your teeth grazed him accidently, as you quickly pulled back, looking apologetic.

“Cheol, is everything okay?”

“Yeah just Y/n ....almost fell.” He gulped, turning to Jeonghan. “Yeah I got it, we'll be careful and I'll let you know if there's any developments.”

“Alright and-”

Before he could complete, Seungcheol tossed the glass onto the gear pile and gripped your chin, holding it as he pushed his length further into your mouth.

“What a brat.” He groaned, feeling his tip hit the back of your throat. “What if Jeonghan found out?”

You couldn't care less. All you cared about was how deep could you possibly take Seungcheol, relaxing your throat as he pushed in.

“F-fuck.” He muttered, quickly pulling out, jerking off his length. “Open wide.”

And you did, sticking your tongue out just in time to feel spurts of his cum coat it messily, spilling onto your lips and out of the corner of your mouth.

Without waiting for you to swallow, Seungcheol pulled you up to your feet, kissing you again, unbothered about tasting himself.

“I'll get you some water.” He dropped a kiss on your forehead before quickly going to the car and reaching for the bottle. As you drank, mouth and throat dry and sore, Seungcheol hurriedly began buttoning his shirt again.

Wait, that's it?

“Cheol.” He glanced at you questioningly. “What are you…”

“Jeonghan thinks the Chimaera is most definitely here.” He held your pants out by your feet, prompting you to put your feet in. You complied, still confused. “We should try to track it as soon as possible.”

“Seungcheol we just….” You sighed, dropping the bottle on the forest floor. “We just had sex after days of behaving like we cannot bear each other, don't you think we need to talk?”

“We do.” He nodded seriously, doing your button. “And we will. Just not now, at the right time-”

“What right time?!” You stepped away from him, anger coursing through you. “After leaving me confused for days, after fucking me in the middle of nowhere, you don't think I deserve an explanation?”

“You do Y/n and I will tell you everything but we just need to find the monster first. It's dangerous-”

“Did you not realise that when you had your dick inside me??” You looked at him incredulously. “How is that we had the time to have sex, but not to have a discussion-”

“Enough.” Seungcheol’s voice was hard and urgent. ‘I cannot keep repeating the same thing again Y/n. Yes, you deserve an explanation and yes we will talk, just. not. now. Now, we need to find the monster.”

“But Cheol-”

“Y/n stop.”

“I just want to-”

“That's a command, soldier.”

Taken aback you blinked at him, processing his words.

“Yes chief.”

And with that you turned and walked away into the woods, ignoring his voice calling out to you and letting the darkness of the forest consume you.

You had no idea how long or how deep into the forest you had ventured - you just needed to get away from Seungcheol as soon as possible. You knew he would have followed if he had managed to get his pants on in time but you had disappeared into the darkness before he could. In hindsight maybe that wasn't the best idea because the forest was barely visible despite your extremely sharp eyesight, and though you had your energy reader on you, hanging around your neck, you couldn't use it. You didn't feel warmth.

“This isn't the kind of forest you roam alone in, sweet summer child.”

Holding back a shriek you turned around, shocked by a presence in this dark forest. All you could see was the silhouette of a tall lanky man, leaning against the thick trunk of a tree, only half his face illuminated by the small fire burning by his feet. His features looked royal, as though even without the light, he'd still shine all the same. You couldn’t see his eyes though - they were hidden behind black sunglasses which seemed rather unnecessary given the surroundings. The theme of black continued in his attire - a soft black fur jacket thrown over a black shirt and black slacks, accents of white, green and gold, littered all over. The most noticeable thing about him was perhaps his hair - streaks of red and grey in spiky black hair. Strangely he looked both old and young at the same time, almost timeless.

“You’re alone.” You pointed out.

“I’m an adult.”

“More like ancient.” You muttered to yourself but the man seemed to have heard it somehow.

“Ancient?” He chuckled. “I suppose I should be offended but that's an understatement.”

You frowned, not quite understanding.

“Don't rack your brain sweetheart. I've already figured out that you're not too bright considering, you know, the little show you put up earlier.”

You felt your jaw hang, cheeks burning up. What the fuck-

“And before you ask, ew no, I wasn't watching - I'd rather burn in Tartarus than watch that tragedy.” He rolled his eyes, looking disgusted. “But this is Nyx's forest and everything here talks….”

A whole damn forest was watching you and Seungcheol have sex?? You wanted to throw up, throw a fit and throw something at this man, all at once. Overwhelmed by everything, you held your head, trying to sort out the overload of information.

“First of all, who the hell are you…..”

“Goodness be damned, you're really dumber than I thought.” He walked up, closer to the fire, his features much more clear in the light. “I’m what you’re looking for.”

You looked him up and down.

“I’m not looking for a boomer with a fashion crisis.”

The man burst out laughing, looking away, shoulders shaking. “You’re funny darling, not everyone can joke in the face of danger.”

“I’m not joking.” You rolled your eyes. “And clearly, you’re not dangerous. If you were, you wouldn’t be wasting your time with a conversation, darling.”

He smiled.

“The conversation is courtesy of the fact that you are also what I am looking for.” Taking a step forward, he inched closer. “I'm Chimaera.”

You blinked at him once.

Then twice.

Then snickered.

What bullshit.

You had read up about the monster on your way here - it was supposedly a weird mix of a lion, a goat and a snake that also happened to breathe fire. This… this was a man? And a man who was clearly fooling you for whatever reason.

“Oh yeah?” You crossed your arms. “Then I'm actually Zeus, King of the Gods-”

“I forget how little you know about this world sweetheart.” He scoffed, taking the glasses off and tucking them inside his jacket.

You felt your whole body freeze. His eyes….they had slits, like a snake.

“Did you really think I could live amongst mortals looking like a genetic experiment gone catastrophically wrong? Obviously I have a human form.”

You hesitated, gulping, realising that regardless of whether this man was indeed the Chimaera, you, like an idiot, were both unarmed and unprotected.

“What? Still don’t believe me?” He cocked his head. “Oh sweetheart.”

He waved his hand and the flames of the campfire rose, dancing and wrapping around him. You watched as he smiled at you, the fire not leaving a single mark on his skin, as though it didn’t burn him at all. Finally, the glowing bright orange ran up his neck and disappeared into his mouth.

The fire breather. You took a step back and then another. Fuck, fuck, fuck-

“Don't tell me you're also stupid enough to run.” He clicked his tongue. “You may be powerful but you’re no match for me. Besides,” He walked up, taking the help of a dapper looking walking stick that seemed to have appeared out of nowhere. “I only want to talk.”

“W-with me?” You stuttered. “About what?”

“Do you really not know?”

You did. A tiny voice in your head spoke for you - Fire.

Your fire. He knew about it.

“How do you know?”

“Why wouldn’t I know darling?” He smiled at you in a way that was both sweet and sinister. “Daddy knows everything.”

“That didn’t come out right.” He pinched the bridge of his nose as you looked at him with a mix of confusion, fear and disgust. “What I meant is, I know your fire because it’s mine Y/n….. I’m your father.”

Somewhere far off, thunder rumbled across the sky, filling the silence. There was a storm coming but it was no match for the one already going on inside you. The time for humour was over.

You had already been on the edge of tolerance with Hestia ignoring you all these days and now, to hear such a vile joke about your parentage from a monster was just plain evil. You knew Jeonghan said you weren’t to face the creature on your own but god were you ready to annihilate it.

“Shut up.” You spoke between gritted teeth. “I don’t know what you’re trying to do but-”

“You don’t believe me.” The Chimaera chuckled. “Sit down Y/n, you are in terrible need of a crash course.”

“What do you mean?”

“Sit.”

“No.” You crossed your arms, repeating your question. “What, do you mean?”

The man sighed, leaning against a nearby tree.

“Did you think gods are the only ones who can mate with mortals?” He shook his head. “Monsters can too, darling. In fact, most mortals are our children.”

You felt a chill run down your spine.

“Of course unlike you god spawn they don’t carry our powers but our nature? Oh the desire to wreak havoc, to cause chaos, they do inherit that. Every thief, every killer, every arsonist,” He smiled at you but it didn’t reach his eyes. “They’re all our offspring.”

The flames of the campfire rose higher, burning brighter, drawing out a memory you had been trying your best to forget.

“I cannot be your child.” You muttered, heart racing in your chest. “That’s not possible…”

“Is it that difficult to believe?” He raised an eyebrow. “You could always tell you were different. You never felt like you belonged. Your powers, they’re unlike the others, so brilliant.” His eyes gleamed. “It’s because you’re mine.”

You felt your guts twist. A half monster. That’s what he was calling you.

“Look at us Y/n.” He stuck his hand out, the flames coming to life in his hand. “Look at me and tell me we aren’t the same-”

“No we’re not.” You looked at him defiantly. “I may be hostile and unwelcoming and guarded and a lot of other things but I’m not a bad person….. I’m not evil.”

“Really?” He chuckled. “Are you trying to convince me or yourself?”

You glared at him.

“Denying the truth and suppressing the memories - they won’t change what happened Y/n.” He stepped forward, the slits in his eyes narrowing. “They won’t change the fact that you almost killed someone.”

No.

“And not just anyone, a five year old child, a child a family entrusted you to look after.”

“Enough.” You spoke between gritted teeth.

“All because he spoke a few harsh truths to your face-”

“I said enough.”

But he didn’t stop.

“You got so angry, you unleashed your powers, burnt down the house and nearly killed that child.”

“That’s not true-”

“But it is!” He snarled, raising his voice as the fire around him rose to life, crawling towards you on the forest floor. The amusement in his voice was replaced with something darker, something more menacing. “If the firefighters hadn’t come on time, that child would have died…. All because you didn’t like what he said.”

“He said I deserved to be alone!” You finally snapped, something hot searing through your veins. “He said my parents abandoned me because I was not good enough for them!”

The memory finally flashed in your head again, fresh as day.

For almost a year now, you had been taking on a side job of babysitting kids for rich parents who needed to get away for their late night dates and parties. Usually it was a piece of cake - most kids were already tired from playing the whole day so all you had to do was ensure they finished their food and went to sleep. After that you simply worked on your assignments or flipped through the book collections on the shelves or the channels on the tv, waiting to be relieved of your duties.

It was just another night like that, another rich family, another big house in the suburb but this time, it was the most uncooperative child you had ever encountered. You had a buttload of work to do that day, your pencils and papers scattered all over the dining table once that little devil had gone to his room to sleep but for some fucking reason, he kept waking up. You could tell he was spoilt, demanding to eat candy at freaking 10pm, secretly drinking soft drinks from the fridge, throwing his toys all over. You had been patient with him for a long time, much beyond your capacity really but when he spilled a bottle full of sauce on a project you had spent hours working on, you raised your voice.

You expected him to cry and that you’d have to apologise, calm him and put him to sleep, instead, he sneered at you.

He simply shrugged and asked why you were being such a pain in the ass. As though it wasn’t shocking enough to hear such a statement from a child, he went on to ask how your parents handled someone as uptight as you. When you retorted that you didn’t have any parents, he said two words that still haunted you - “No wonder.”

By now you had already reached your limit but when he added that they must have left you because you were so insufferable, something inside you snapped. One minute you were the angriest you had ever been and in the next, there was fire and screams everywhere.

His cries rang in your ears as you shut them hard trying to block it. The Chimaera’s snickers were what took over instead.

“Stop trying to run away from what you did-”

“That was an accident.” You shook your head hard. “That wasn’t on purpose, I didn’t want to hurt him-”

“Is it?” He raised an eyebrow. “Then why does no one in your precious camp know this story Y/n? The parents sued you, you spent a few nights in jail for arson, in a few days time you are to appear in front of a jury to plead your case yet your lawyer doesn't know a thing that happened - no one can figure out how the fire started and you won’t tell them. You don’t want to tell them because that would mean admitting that you’re different, that you’re not one of them, that you always were and are a loner.”

You wanted to deny it, just like when Wonwoo was exposing you like this. You wanted to scream and shout and tell this horrible creature it was wrong but words couldn’t leave your mouth - in the face of truth, one often fell silent.

“But you don’t have to be alone Y/n.” The Chimaera stepped forward, his demeanor suddenly switching from accusatory to sympathetic. “From the moment I sensed your power that night, I’ve been looking for you. I’ve been trying to meet you and tell you who you, to bring you home, where you belong-”

“You….” You looked at him, lips parting in surprise. “You want to take me home?”

He nodded. “The mortals are anyways too unworthy to understand your power but so are the demigods. Even if you are half god, the fact that you are half monster is all they will see. With them, you’ll always have to hide but with us? You’ll be free. Free to be yourself, free to unleash your powers, free to be unafraid.”

Your mouth moved but no words left you.

“Tell me anything but that you’re thinking about the Son of Zeus.” He narrowed his eyes. “That you’ve set your heart on him.”

Stuttering, you looked away. “I..I’m….”

“You mortals and your love,” He rolled his eyes. “The man because of whom you’re so hesitant, do you think he’ll accept you once he learns what you really are? He brought you to his camp to save you from danger but what do you think will happen when he learns that you in fact are the real danger? Do you think he’ll choose you over his boys?”

You let out a shaky breath as he neared, the flames following him.

“Come with me Y/n, let’s go to Tartarus, to our family. To those who will truly love and accept you.” You could smell the fire as he stood inches away from you. “All these part-mortals will die one day, will leave you behind, but we won’t. We’ll always be there for you.”

“What do you mean?”

“Monsters are immortal too Y/n, we never die.” He smiled as the flames encircled you fully and strangely, you could feel the warmth of it. “Killing a monster simply means weakening us and sending us back to Tartarus, our realm. It’s only a matter of time before we gain our strength and come back to the human world. You can never truly kill a monster.”

A family forever. A home forever. That’s what he was offering you. What you had been looking for your whole life.

“So come with me Y/n.” He held his hand out. “Come where you truly belong-”

“Y/n!”

You turned at the sound of a frantic voice, spotting Seungcheol far away, between the trees, looking at you terrified. Thunder clapped across the sky as he ran towards you.

“Get away from him, he’s dangerous-”

“Yes, when all I’ve done is have a conversation.” The man before you rolled his eyes, extending his hand further. “This is what these demigods do, villainize us for no reason.”

At the loud sound of Seungcheol falling you turned around worried, “Cheol careful-”

“Listen to me Y/n.” Your father drew your attention as Seungcheol got up, making his way towards you again. “They’ll do the same to you, they’ll label you a monster either ways, so come with me and we can go home now.”

“Y/n step back-”

“Y/n come with me-”

“Y/n please don't-”

“Y/n please-”

You shut your eyes, unable to process both their voices, unable to make a choice. The fire around you intensified, burning with a darker orange - flames streamed out of your hands, joining the already raging fire, towering over the two of you. Panicking you tried to stop them but they just wouldn't - it was like that fateful night all over again. You couldn't control it.

The Chimaera's eyes gleamed victoriously as he watched your fire burn around him. He looked astounded, like he was enthralled by it.

“You're brilliant Y/n, you're simply brilliant. They don't deserve you-”

“Y/n can you hear me?” You couldn't see him but his silhouette told you that Seungcheol had neared. “Don't worry, I'll save you, I got you-”

“She doesn't need you.” Your father snarled, waving his hand, and the fire followed, striking Seungcheol right in his chest, the sheer force sending him hurling back.

“No!” You screamed, rushing towards him when the Chimaera's hand wrapped around your wrist holding you back.

“Y/n we need to go-”

“No.” You muttered, voice shaking. “No, Cheol, no….”

“It doesn't matter, he doesn't matter, let him die. If we don't get out of your fire, it will…..”

You can't really hear what he's saying anymore. Let him die.

You would never let someone die. You didn't let that child die, you won't let Seungcheol die, you weren't one of the monsters. You just weren't.

Freeing your hand from his with a jerk, you pushed him back, sending the tall man stumbling behind.

“How could you?” You shook your head. “How could you think I'd join you?”

“I hoped it wouldn’t come to this.” He cracked his neck, straightening up. “If you're not going to come on your own, then I'll drag you to hell by myself.”

Your throat dried as you watched his face morph, his limbs changing into an animal's, the gruesome image of him you had seen in the scrolls coming to life before you - part lion, part goat, part snake. It made your soul tremble.

“No.” Lower lip quivering, you stepped back. “You're going to hell alone.”

And you're not really sure what overcame you or how you knew what to do but suddenly the fire around you roared to life, streaks of the flames charging towards the monster, wrapping it in its grip. You watched as its expression went from amusement to disbelief to pure fear and ended with a mocking smile on its face. When the fire fully engulfed him, it exploded, leaving behind only black ash, fluttering in the wind.

You stumbled, losing your footing, feeling suddenly drained as you fell to your knees, vision blurring. Pain seared through your head, immaculate pain that you had never felt before but somehow it wasn't worse than the one in your chest. The one you felt as you looked at Seungcheol lying on the forest floor in a pool of blood. Getting it together you quickly got up and rushed to him, pulling him into your lap, calling out to him.

“Cheol, can you hear me?” Tears stung your eyes. “Please please please be okay.”

He wasn't okay. The impact of the Chimaera's attack sent him straight into the trunk of the tree, his back and his head was severely wounded but the most noticeable thing was the large burn mark right in the middle of his chest.

“Help.” You whispered, looking around even though you knew it was pointless. There was no one around. “Please help.”

But the only response you got is the sound of hooves, galloping across the forest floor. Unsure, you pulled Seungcheol closer to you, looking out into the fog between the trees. Whoever it was, whatever it was, if it meant any more harm to Seungcheol you'll fight it. You'll die fighting it but you'll save this man.

But that wasn't necessary.

As the sound neared, a familiar looking winged horse jumped out of the mist, neighing at the sight of you.

Pegasus. Seokmin's horse.

Finally, finally allowing yourself to breathe, you shut your eyes in relief. Maybe Seungcheol could be saved after all.

Everything that happened from the moment you came to camp was still a blur.

The minute Pegasus entered the grounds, all the members rushed towards the two of you, faces filled with terror. Some members carried Seungcheol towards the Great Hall. Someone had wrapped a blanket around your shoulders, someone else handed you some strange concoction and told you to drink up. It was all a flurry of motion as everyone made their way to the infirmary, a hall you hadn't seen before, putting Seungcheol down on the bed as Jihoon grabbed a pair of scissors and cut his shirt open. You nearly threw up.

The wound was so much worse than you had thought, red and angry on his skin. The members scurried around, grabbing the different things Jihoon was ordering them to get as you stood in between it all, frozen. It was only when Jihoon smeared a green paste all over Seungcheol's chest and the latter screamed in agony that you snapped out of the trance. He was in so much pain-

“Y/n!” Minghao shook your shoulders, making you turn to him. “I'm asking you something.”

“W….what?”

“How did this happen?” His gaze was piercing. “Did you guys find the Chimaera?”

Slowly, you nodded.

“And Seungcheol fought it?” He looked stunned. “Why aren't either of you in your gear, what the hell happened-”

“Minghao.” Jeonghan's voice echoed through the room like the crack of a whip. “Enough.”

“But we need to know-”

“No, we don't.” He neared you, pulling you away from Minghao’s grip. “Not right now. She's hurt too.”

You glanced down at your legs, noticing the gashes and wounds all over. You didn't even realise. And why would you? This pain was nothing before what Seungcheol was going through.

“Fuck, Y/n.” Jun stepped up and quickly sat you on the neighbouring bed, reaching for the iodine and cotton, cleaning you up. From the corner of your eye, you saw Jeonghan turn to Joshua.

“Take her away from here.” He instructed. “Don't let her step foot in the infirmary till Cheol is fine.”

You opened your mouth in disbelief. You wanted to argue, you wanted to protest but you couldn't bring yourself to. Not with the way your head was spinning. Minghao's worried face was the last thing you saw before the darkness consumed you.

—

When you opened your eyes, all you could see was the white of the ceiling.

You glanced at the camp outside the window. It was submerged in the black of the night, only the usual scattered torches burning around. You looked away - the sight of fire was unbearable.

Groaning you sat up, body sore all over, as you kicked the covers off. The wounds seemed to have fully disappeared, you're guessing courtesy of Jihoon's herbal ointment but the pain in your chest was ever present.

Limping out of the room, you glanced around, wondering where you were. The abnormal amount of mirrors gave you your answer - House of Aphrodite, Joshua's residence. You walked around, catching sight of the silhouettes of the furniture - you always assumed Joshua would have the prettiest house of them all and that seemed true. At least from the little you could see in the moonlight streaming in.

The soft snores of the residence owner were what pulled you towards his bedroom. You meant to glance, to see if he was properly asleep and sneak out but the sound of your feet awakened him.

“Y/n…” He called out to you groggily, raising himself on his elbows. “Why aren't you asleep?”

How could you sleep with Seungcheol lying in the infirmary like that? When you didn't have a clue how he was doing?

Joshua read your mind.

“Cheol is fine.” He mumbled, clearing his throat. “He's better.”

“I want to see him-”

“I know.” He sighed. “But Jihoon has strictly asked no one to go to the infirmary. He doesn't want to he disturbed.”

“Will….” You gulped, stepping onto his room. “Will he be okay?”

“He will. He has to. For all of us.”

“Yeah.” You whispered, looking around with a sigh. “I don't know what to do. I won't be able to do anything till he's fine-”

“Come here.” Joshua beckoned you, scooting over in his bed, making space for you. You blinked at him confused. “Come Y/n.”

Letting out a deep breath, you complied, slipping under his covers.

“Look up.”

And you did, eyes meeting the fascinating sight of the sky, stars blinking behind the dark clouds, the moonlight scattered between them. It looked so calming.

“Didn't you say you liked camping with your father when you were a child?”

You had told him that. A few days after you came to camp, given Joshua was your only confidant, you had told him about the earliest memory you had. It was when you were around 6 years old, on one of the rare days your father was particularly happy, insisting that the two of you drive to the edge of the city and set up a little tent. Of course he was silly to choose a really windy day to camp and also more than incapable of setting up a tent so you simply watched as it flew away and burst out laughing. That night your father rolled out two sleeping bags side by side as the two of you talked about the stars while the campfire burnt away.

Somehow now, it made sense why the flames didn't extinguish in the wind. It was you. Your power over fire, a power you got from your real father, not the man who's love, attention and validation you craves for twenty five years of your life. That man wasn't your father.

Joshua turned at the sound of you letting out a deep breath, finding your eyes shut tight. You didn't want to see the stars anymore.

“Y/n,” He turned towards you. “Are you okay?”

“I'm fine.” You mumbled. “I should probably sleep….”

The lack of response told you that Joshua didn't believe you. You turned to glance at him, noticing his worried expression.

“Okay, I'm not fine,” You confessed. “But I will be.”

“And I will be there for you.” He reassured, taking your hand. Sighing softly you scooted closer to him, burying your face at the crook of his neck as his arms wrapped around you.

“Thank you Shua.” You whispered. “Thank you.”

But before you could hear what he had to say in return, you drifted away, falling asleep.

Although you couldn't ever bring yourself to wake up for training at the crack of dawn, you somehow found yourself wide awake today. Joshua hadn't moved an inch in his sleep, still holding on to you. As much as you found his arms warm and welcoming, you had to go see Seungcheol. You had to see if he was fine.

Slowly slipping out of his embrace, you slid out of Joshua's bed, glancing at him one last time before grabbing his jacket and silently stepping out.

The morning dew had made the grass all wet and squelchy, your footsteps very apparent in the silence but thankfully there was no one in an audible radius. The flames of the torch continued to burn low which meant training hadn't started yet, or maybe there was none today, you didn't know. Quickening your pace you walked over to the Great Hall, locating the infirmary beside it.

Through the window you glanced in the dimness, recognising the silhouette of Seungcheol asleep on the bed and another someone sitting on the couch beside him, his head rolled back and mouth slightly parted in his sleep - Jeonghan.

You wanted to step in, to sit beside Seungcheol, to see how he was but somehow you couldn't move, not with all that weight in your chest.

“You shouldn't be here.”

You covered your mouth, preventing the shriek from leaving your being as you turned, spotting Jihoon behind you, a tray of herbs in his hand. “Jeonghan was very clear about not allowing you to go near Seungcheol.”

“And since when does Jeonghan tell everyone what to do?”

“He's interim leader.” Jihoon sighed. “In the absence of Cheol, his word is the rule.”

“It's not like Cheol's gone.” You rolled your eyes but when they fell on Jihoon's grim expression you gulped. “Joshua said he was better.”

“Better than before, yes.” Jihoon agreed. “I've fixed his bruises and mended his bones and everything else is healing but…”

“But?”

“That burn on his chest.” He sighed. “I don't know how to fix it.”

“Y-you can't fix the burn?”

He shook his head. “Certain things cause damage beyond repair. Zeus’s lightning, Ares's sword, Chimaera's fire, these are nearly impossible to heal from.”

“Nearly? That means there's some way.”

“There is.” He nodded slowly. “The Chimaera hasn't been heard of in ages so most healers don't bother to learn the remedies for his fire but luckily I did.”

“So you can fix him.” You looked at the man before you, eyes shimmering with hope.

But Jihoon shook his head. “I would've been able to if that was the Chimaera's fire, but….. it's not.”

It felt like the ground had been pulled from under you.

“Every fire is different, every fire has its own pattern, its own signature. One can tell by the burn, who's fire caused the injury and Seungcheol’s wound is not from the Chimaera's fire. It’s someone else's.”

You took a few stumbling steps back, sweat running down your neck.

You.

Your fire.

It was your fire which hurt Seungcheol.

This was all your fault.

Jihoon frowned. “Y/n, do you know anything about-”

“I’m sorry.” You whispered, taking a step back. “I’m sorry, I have to go.”

With that you left behind a baffled Jihoon, turning on your heel and running out of the Great Hall, straight into the forest.

And for a long time, you didn't stop running.

By the time you returned to camp, it was nearly noon.

You could tell that the members had been looking for you because the moment you stepped into the dining hall, Soonyoung nearly knocked you over with a bone crushing hug.

“Fuck, Y/n, where have you been?” He held you tighter. “We were worried sick.”

“Someone call Hansol and his hounds back.” Minghao spoke from across the room. “Tell him she's here and she's fine.”

Seungkwan muttered that he would do so before shooting you a concerned look, and leaving the hall. Joshua stepped up as Soonyoung finally let you go.

“I was worried when I woke up and you weren't there.”

“Is that where you're crashing now?” Mingyu wrapped his arm around your shoulder. “Don't worry, not for long, your new residence is coming along really well, it should be ready in a few days.”

You scoffed inwardly. What was the point?

“Thanks.” You muttered as Chan walked up to you with a glass of water in his hands, looking down pointedly.

“Your feet are injured again.”

“I went for a run.” You confessed. “Had to clear my mind.”

“Are you that used to punishment rounds first thing in the morning?” Seokmin chuckled. “I'm going to have to find a different punishment for you if you're enjoying it.”

A small smile grew on your face as the boys began to argue, talking one over the other. From across the room Wonwoo, who was the only one who hadn't approached you, looked at you expressionlessly, his eyes hooded. Gulping you turned away, just in time for Jun to drag you to the table, putting down a plate of food, insisting you eat. The rest of the boys too scattered around, grabbing their own plates, serving themselves, settling in one by one. At the same time, Seungkwan walked in with a tired, dirt clad and unamused Hansol.

“Don't ever do that again.” Hansol, who hadn't spoken a word to you all these days, mumbled, walking in.

“Don't worry.” You took a bite of Jun's delicious bibimbap, mind at undeniable peace now that you had made a decision. “I won't trouble anyone anymore.”

You spent the rest of the day in the Great Hall with the boys. You had asked for their company, mumbling under your breath and without asking why, they complied immediately. Of course Seungcheol, Jeonghan and Jihoon were still in the infirmary but the rest of the boys were scattered around the hall all day.

At most times it was quiet, everyone doing their own thing in the silence. Some of them were reading, some were working, Minghao was cleaning his weapons, Jun and Mingyu were consistently cooking, Wonwoo was just looking out of the window.

It was only after dinner that everyone finally dispersed, retreating to their cabins. Joshua offered his residence for you to crash again and you agreed, stating you needed to grab your clothes, shower and you'll be there. Nodding he left with the rest, as you made your way to Seungcheol's house.

For the longest time, this place had been your safe haven but stepping into the empty space today only further broke your heart. You had made the right choice.

Heading to your room, you grabbed a duffel bag and stuffed some of your essentials - clothes, laptop, books etc. Throwing on a hoodie, you gave your room one last longing look before closing the door behind you. It was only as you stepped out of the large entrance that you felt the soft fur caressing your leg.

Natalie.

Bending down, you rubbed her fondly as she looked up at you with her big cute eyes.

“I'm going Nat.” You softly muttered, “As much as I hoped, I don't belong here. I've done nothing but be a menace, attract trouble and worse, put lives in danger. I can't do that to these boys anymore, I just can't….you understand that right?

She looked at you like she did.

“I would bring you along, but you're a creature of Olympus, of the heavens and I,” You let out a shaky breath. “I'm on my way to hell.”

Dropping a small kiss on its crown, you smiled at it sadly.

“You'll be happy here, there's Jun’s farm, you can follow Wonwoo all day, you can play with Daisy and the hounds too. You'll be fine without me.”

She whined, louder than usual and it hurt but you knew this was for the best. You had to go and you had to go alone.

Throwing your duffel bag over your shoulder, you set out towards the camp entrance, ready to leave it all behind, ready to go. You had people here who loved you, people who were annoyed with you, people who were sick of you, peepple who ignored you, but no one hated you, not yet at least. And you wanted to leave before that happened. Because you were sure if they found out it was you who injured Seungcheol, they wouldn't forgive you.

Taking a deep resolved breath, you took a step forward - it was time to head to hell.

But before you could take another step, the voice of hell itself stopped you.

“Going already?”

You turned at the sound of his voice, looking around, chills running down your spine when you didn't spot anyone.

“I did say you'd look for the first chance to go but I didn't think it would be so soon.”

You turned again, spotting him right by the last torch of the path, the glow of the torch illuminating his sharp features. He most definitely wasn't there a second ago.

“Wonwoo.”

“Y/n.” He stepped forward. “As the Son of Underworld, I'm here to give you a quick briefing before you decide to make hell your new home - it's very hot and very, very stuffy.”

Eyes widening, you stuttered. “H-how did you know that I was…that I wanted to-”

“Do something utterly stupid?” He raised his eyebrow.

And suddenly, he vanished. Straight into thin air. One second you were looking at him and the next, he was gone. And just like that, he appeared again, like he never left.

Oh.

Of course.

Wonwoo, Son of Hades, had the power of invisibility. Of course he knew - he was always watching.

Your mind raced back to every instance you had been alone - the library doors randomly opening, the crackling sound of the fallen leaves near the campfire, as though someone was walking, the strange feeling of someone constantly watching. It was all him and that meant there was a lot he saw and a lot more he knew.

“If things take a turn and you're forced to face it, do whatever it takes to fight it. Don't think, don't analyse, just do it.”

Wonwoo knew about your fire.

“Why didn't you tell me you knew?” You looked at him, tone unnecessarily accusatory. “Why didn't you say anything?”

“This was yours to tell.” He shrugged. “I happened to find out by chance.”

“You mean by stalking.” You spoke between gritted teeth. “You had no right to-”

“I didn't mean to.” He emphasized again.”I wasn't aware you knew your powers or that you were hiding them.”

“Does anyone else know?”

Wonwoo shook his head. “I told you, it's not mine to tell.”

Sighing, you relaxed your shoulders. Although you were glad that no one else knew, somehow Wonwoo knowing felt like a relief.

“Why not though?” You glanced at him curiously. “Why would you keep someone as dangerous as me on camp?”

“You're not dangerous Y/n, just different.”

“Just? Wonwoo….” You took a deep shaky breath. “It was my fire that injured Seungcheol.”

For a second, he was quiet. “How?”

“It was an accident-” You mumbled, scared. “I didn't know the Chimaera would be able to use it like that-”

“So that makes the monster dangerous.” He justified. “You're untrained, that's all.”

That's all?

“It's not that simple.” You threw your hands in the air. “You have no idea-”

“No I don't.” He interjected. “No one does because there's never been a demigod like you but that doesn't make you worthy of going to hell.”

“You think I'm going to hell to punish myself?” You raised an eyebrow. “Wonwoo, I belong there, perhaps more than you do.”

For the first time you saw an expression on his face, one of confusion.

“The Chimaera wasn't hunting me Wonwoo, it was trying to bring me home.” Shutting your eyes, you let out a breath. “The Chimaera is my father.”.

You expected the man before you to look shocked or at least a little scared but his expression turned impassive again.

“So?” Wonwoo crossed his arms. “Hades is my father.”

“It's not the same-”

“But it is.” Wonwoo exhaled. “My father isn't an Olympian Y/n, he's not one of those gods, he's not worshiped like the rest. Children of Hades do not live on camps, yet here I am.”

Oh.

You had no idea.

“It doesn't matter what your parentage is, the problem is you don't consider this place as home, you don't consider these people as yours-”

“That's not true-”

“If it wasn't, then instead of running away you'd have been in the infirmary, telling Jihoon about your fire.” He snapped. “So he can figure out how to heal Seungcheol.”

You blinked at him at a loss of words.

“I didn't think….”

“That's the problem Y/n, you don't think.” Wonwoo looked away, sighing. “You do the first thing that comes to your mind, regardless of the consequences.”

He was right. You always were impulsive but this time you were also wrong. You should've thought of Seungcheol first, everything else be damned.

“If I tell Jihoon about….me, can he save Cheol?”

“If he studies your fire, he might be able to figure out how-”

“Let's go to the infirmary.” You interrupted him, determined. Even if saving Seungcheol meant exposing yourself, you'd do it. You'd do anything.

But your feet stood rooted to the ground, like the fear of truth coming out hadn't left your being.

“C-can you come with me…” You looked at the man before you. “Please?”

For the first time as you walked, Wonwoo followed, staying by your side.

“Y/n.” Jihoon looked at you as you stepped into the infirmary. “You shouldn't be here…”

Behind him Jeonghan, who was sitting on the edge of Seungcheol’s bed, stood up.

“I know but-”

“Please.” Jihoon whispered urgently. “You don't want to mess with Jeonghan now. Not with Cheol not getting any better-”

“She's here to help.” Wonwoo spoke from behind, leaning against the entrance. “At least listen to her first.”

“Go on.” Jeonghan spoke from behind, stepping up. “What is it?”

“You said it was someone else’s fire that hurt Cheol right?”

Jihoon frowned. “Yeah, do you know who?”

Stretching your hand out, you held it before him. His eyes flickered between you and your empty hand, expression utterly confused. Taking a deep breath, you stared at your palm and like always, flames suddenly burned to life in your hand. Gasping, Jihoon took a terrified step back, eyes widened.

“You… you can…”

“I can.” You finally admitted, even to yourself. “I can make fire.”

“How is that possible….” Jihoon stared at your hand lost in thought.

Your eyes though, drifted towards Jeonghan who looked unaffected. No shock, no surprise, no fear. Like he already knew. Like he always knew.

You looked over your shoulder at Wonwoo. “You told him? You said you didn't-”

“How pathetic do you deem my intellect Y/n?” Jeonghan rolled his eyes. “He didn't have to say anything, it was obvious.”

“What do you mean obvious?” You lowered your hand, the flames dying out.

“Your lawsuit.” He cocked his head. “We claimed the fire was an accident, like you had said but the defense argued that there was no way the fire could have spread so fast unless it was pre planned. At that point, I suspected you might be a fire bender. Of course, most fire benders are the children of Hephaestus but there weren't many Hestia children to rule out the possibility but when the house was examined, there was no identifiable source of the fire. Which meant it started out of thin air, that meant you weren't just a fire bender, you were making it too. Given your history of having an untraceable aura, I thought something was not aligning - something was different about you.”

You gulped, unsure about verifying his theory. From the corner of your eye, you caught Wonwoo nodding at you encouragingly.

“I am different.” Your eyes flickered between the men before you. “At the Nyx forest, the Chimaera spoke to me. He told me I was his daughter.”

A thick silence descended upon the room. So quiet you could practically hear your heartbeat. Yet again Jihoon looked stunned while Jeonghan looked like the cogwheels in his brain were spinning at full speed.

“I've never heard about a half god, half monster.” You winced at the term as Jihoon looked far off, lost in thought. “I'm not sure what that would even look like-”

“Me.” You sighed. “It would look like me.”

“What else?” Jeonghan chimed in. “What else did the Chimaera say?”

“N-nothing much, he just kept insisting that I go with him to Tartarus, that it's where I belong-”

“You belong here.” Jeonghan interjected, features molding into slight anger. “Whatever it claims the other half of you is, you are half god. You were identified by the oracle, you pledged to be a part of camp seventeen and we swore to protect you as one of us so if there's anywhere you are meant to be, it's here.”

Tears pricked your eyes hearing the conviction in his voice. Never before had someone been so insistent that you belonged.

“I will look into what the Chimaera said means for you being part of the camp but nothing will change the fact that you are one of us.”

Beside him Jihoon nodded. You didn't see but behind you, Wonwoo nodded too.

“Jeonghan I…” You balled your hands into fists. You had thought a lot before making this choice. You knew it was the right one. “I appreciate you saying that but I just want to help Cheol however I can. Once he’s better, I will be heading to Tartarus.”

“Why?” Jihoon looked at you questioningly. “Why would you choose to go there?”

“Because….” You felt your voice get stuck in your throat. “Because I…”

“You think you’re meant to be there but you’re not.” Jeonghan crossed his arms. “Y/n, whether we turn out to be good or bad, it's a choice. It's always our choice. Whether you choose to go or choose to stay I want you to know that camp seventeen chose you, we always will. It's up to you to choose us.”

“I….”

“You don't have to decide now.” Jeonghan shook his head. “Let Jihoon study your fire first. Let us save Cheol. Once he comes around, you can tell us your decision. Whatever it is, we'll all accept it.”

Staring at the ground, you nodded. Seungcheol first, everything else came later.

The next few days passed a lot slower than usual.

Under Jeonghan's instructions, all camp training had been suspended indefinitely. While some members were added to the shift roster to increase the security of the camp, others were sent out with missions to procure the ingredients Jihoon asked for. Apparently some of them were so rare, members wouldn't return home for days but no one ever complained. Everyone silently followed orders and did what they were instructed to do.

You, on the other hand, had nothing to do. Jeonghan simply told you to be available as and when Jihoon required you. Apollo's son had been spending all his time nose deep in books and ancient texts, scribbling away and brewing all kinds of potions and concoctions. Whenever any of his remedies didn't work, he'd call for you and ask to see your fire again. Sometimes he told you to burn something, sometimes he told you to just hold the flame as long as you could. Sometimes he just wanted you to sit by him. Maybe he didn't like to be as alone as he came across.

On the other side of the room, Jeonghan didn't leave Seungcheol even for a second. All day and all night, he sat on that couch, right next to him - he ate there, he slept there, he went through his case files there, he was eternally glued to his friends side. Somewhere deep down, you felt a little jealous. You'd never seen friendship like theirs and you didn't know if you could ever have something like that in your life.

But sometimes, a part of you said maybe you could.

When you weren't required in the infirmary and were tired of breathing the camp air, you'd set off, going deeper into the woods, finding a log and sitting all by yourself. But you were never alone. The rustling sound of the leaves or the soft sounds of breath in the pin drop silence told you you weren't alone, he was always there.

Wonwoo.

You couldn't see him but you knew he was around, watching over you and somehow it didn't feel intrusive - There was a solace his presence offered that you couldn't explain. It was funny though, how you went from being completely ignored by him to being constantly looked after - in hindsight maybe he always cared for you.

Clearly they all cared for you. Although Mingyu, Chan and Soonyoung were the ones who were sent away to missions, the first thing they did after enquiring about Cheol was come looking for you - they wanted to make sure you were fine too. Jun and Minghao always made sure you ate, Seokmin, Hansol and Seungkwan had taken over with the building of your house and Joshua was your constant companion all night - after every long, tiring and unsuccessful day, it was in his arms that you found yourself dozing off. Although the rest of the members did not know about your parentage yet, again thanks to Jeonghan's instructions, a part of you now felt that they would accept you, regardless of what your father claimed.

But the big question was, what was the right choice? With you in camp, was it safe? Sure you had managed to send your father back to Tartarus but it was only a matter of time before he got stronger and came looking for you again. He had already sent his minions once and clearly he didn't care about any collateral damage. You were still very much a threat to everyone, you'd always be one. Maybe, after Cheol regained consciousness, it was best you left.

You told yourself you'd leave but one look at the way the boys bickered and laughed around the dining hall and you'd find your resolve wavering. You didn't want to leave them, you didn't want to go. But the gnawing feeling of what might happen to them in your company always brought you back to square one - it was a never ending loop of indecision.

And it was that loop that was going on in your mind as you watched Jeonghan flipping through the multiple files he had laid out on the bed beside Seungcheol’s.

“Look, the case appears simple but it isn't so straightforward,” Jeonghan looked up, tucking the pencil over his ear. The two of you were finally going over the details of the lawsuit. “The Parks, the family that is suing you, is doing so for two reasons - damage of personal property and attempting to harm their son.”

You glanced at the papers he was looking at.

“That's where it becomes interesting. Even though you caused considerable trouble and more importantly, endangered their child, they aren't trying to get you prosecuted as a criminal,” Jeonghan's eyes gleamed. “They filed a civil lawsuit.”

“Yes, they want me to compensate them monetarily. ”

“Think about it, if you had a child-” You didn't want to think about that at all actually. “-and if someone tried to hurt her or him, what would be your response? Asking for money or asking for justice?”

“I would've gone berserk.” You muttered. “I'd want them punished.”

“Precisely, instead, they're trying to get money out of a broke architecture student.” Jeonghan pointed out. “Doesn't make sense right?”

You shook your head.

“Usually in cases of property damage, most people seek insurance payouts but the Parks didn't and this is why.” He pushed a paper towards you. “Wonwoo managed to get his hands on the police report-”

“How?”

“The man does some secret government job, he's got his hands everywhere.”

“Huh.” You looked around, wondering if he was listening.

“He's not here.” Jeonghan brushed off, pointing at the paper again. “The point is, the police report mentions two things of major importance - One, they have no idea how the fire even started. Two, the Parks household did not implement any fire safety measures in their residence.”

“So…. they're not eligible for an insurance payout, right?”

Jeonghan nodded. “That is why they are pressing civil charges against you, so they can get the money from you, by labelling you as an arsonist.”

“But I am an arsonist.”

Jeonghan sighed. “Okay you are, but they don't have any proof and that's what our argument will focus on. We will first insist that the police identify the source of fire and then we will add that you had no motive. You didn't know the family before all this, you had no personal connections, and you had no motive to harm.”

“But the child….” You thought about that night again. “Jeonghan, he saw me start the fire.”

“He won't remember.” Jeonghan sat back down on his chair. “The Demigod Union took care of that.”

“The what?”

“There's a body in every city that handles all demigod related issues called the Demigod Union. Luckily Mingyu was one of the firefighters at the scene so when he sensed the high levels of Aura, he alerted the DU. The senior members gave the child a memory potion while he was hospitalized and it replaced his memories - he only remembers sleeping and waking up to a room full of fire.”

“If that's the case, he couldn’t have told the Parks anything so why would they think I was trying to harm their child?”

“Sympathy.” Jeonghan stated like it was obvious. “They're trying to sway the jury by showing their five year old child as a victim. Hence we need to be careful and make the right moves, then we should be able to win this case.”

You nodded, leaning back against your chair. One battle hadn't even ended and another had begun. You glanced at Jeonghan who seemed lost in his stack of papers again. There was scribbles everywhere, notes in the margins, yellow highlights marking points. Evidently he had done all his research thoroughly.

“When did you even do all this?”

“I take my job seriously.” He muttered without looking up.

“Even the pro bono ones?”

“A case is a case.” He shrugged. “Besides, you are one of us.”

There he was, hitting you with words that was only making choosing harder.

You looked at the sleeping Seungcheol. His chest rose and fell with every breath he took, the bandages covering his wound, moving with it. A few days ago you wondered if you would ever get to see him again, but here you were today, right by his side.

“When you saw Seungcheol, did you know it was my fire that hurt him?”

Jeonghan shook his head. “Not at first, but when Jihoon said the fire didn’t seem like the Chimaera’s, I suspected it might have been yours.”

“If you didn't know, then why did you send me away that day?”

‘Because you were untrained and emotional.” He turned to you. “It takes a lot of training for demigods to gain control over their powers. Extreme emotion, be it happiness, sadness, anger…. They tend to make you unstable. I knew you were upset about Cheol so I didn’t want his condition to make you feel worse.”

“So you sent me away for….me?”

“For everyone’s safety.” He corrected.

“But when you realised it was my fault, why didn’t you tell Jihoon?” You looked at him curiously. “Why didn’t you confront me?”

Jeonghan sat on the couch, looking far off, growing silent.

“Jeonghan…?”

“I asked Jihoon to mention the unknown fire if you came asking for updates. I also asked Wonwoo to stop you from leaving.” He glanced at you from the corner of his eye. “I wanted to know what you would choose to do.”

“You were testing me?” You raised an eyebrow. “What if I ran away? What if Wonwoo couldn't stop me?”

“Then I would have hunted you down no matter where on Earth you were and… “ He sighed. “And would have begged you to help me. Begged you to save him.”

You blinked at him, just a little stunned. “He really is important to you, isn’t he?”

Jeonghan nodded. “He saved my life in more ways than one, you won’t understand. No one does.”

“Jeonghan I’m… I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner-”

“I don’t blame you for your choices.” He sighed. “So I hope you won't hold mine against me.”

“I…” You gulped, not quite sure if he was still talking about prioritising saving his friend over keeping your secret. “I don't mind that you chose him over me.”

Jeonghan stared at you for just a little longer than usual before he nodded and turned away. “I need my afternoon nap.”

And with that, he turned away, snuggling into the couch and shutting his eyes. Within a few seconds, the soft sounds of his deep breaths filled the room.

The conversation was over.

Seungcheol wasn't getting any better.

Though tension was palpable in the whole camp, perhaps the members chose to look at the bright side - he wasn't getting worse.

Then the day came when Jihoon said he had exhausted all options, that he didn't know what to try anymore. Everyone had just about given up hope when he called for you one more time -

“What colour is your fire when you're in pain?”

You had no idea.

You spent half an hour after that trying your best to remember, and when nothing could jog your memory, you curled your fingers into a fist and slammed the glass pane of the nearby window, blood furiously trickling down your knuckles. When Jeonghan took a worried step forward, you raised your injured hand to stop him before it spontaneously burst into flames….Blue ones.

Jihoon scribbled a quick note of it before tending to your wound, removing each glass piece embedded in your skin slowly. As you winced, he handed you a potion that he claimed would help with the pain and you gulped it down quickly remembering how bitter it tasted last time. Surprisingly, you noticed it wasn't too bad, nor was it the same colour as before. Though you didn't notice that Jihoon had visibly frozen, like a realisation had dawned upon him.

The moment he was done dressing your wound he got to work, preparing what he called his final remedy. He said if this didn't work, then nothing could wake Seungcheol up anymore.

That night, the whole camp waited with bated breath. You were lying on Joshua's bed with your back pressed against his chest and his arms around you but neither of you were asleep. Sleep was unimaginable now. Everyone just wanted to hear the news. And at around 8am in the morning, just as everyone was headed towards the dining hall, it came.

Zephyr, who hadn't stopped patrolling the skies all these days, suddenly flew down, over the heads of the strolling members, a gust of wind left behind in its wake as it made its way towards the infirmary.

There was only one thing that could make it do that.

Seungcheol's call.

He was awake.

Cheering, all the boys rushed towards the Great Hall, running as fast as they could. You felt your knees buckle and hit the ground as you held your chest in relief.

He was fine.

Seungcheol was fine.

That meant it was time to go.

“Your name was the first thing he took.” Joshua spoke from behind you as you shoved a spoon of cereal in your mouth, sitting at the dining table. “He's been awake for days, why won't you go see him Y/n?”

It had been nearly a week since Seungcheol gained consciousness in the infirmary. Since then, the dining hall had been unsurprisingly empty - all the members began to camp at the infirmary first then at his house where he was moved after a few days. You hadn't visited him in either place.

“I will.” You munched slowly. “I'm just waiting for him to get better.”

“He is better.”

“But not as good as before, right?”

“It's a matter of time.” Joshua slid onto the bench, sitting beside you. “Jihoon said he'll be walking in a day or two.”

You nodded, humming. “That's good.”

“Hey.” Hand below your chin, Joshua turned your face towards him. “What's wrong, love? You were so worried all these days and now….”

“I don't know.” You whispered, voicing your fear. “I don't know how to face him. I don't know what he'll think of me when he learns it's all my fault-”

“If you don't know, then ask him.”

Every cell in your body froze at the familiar voice you hadn't heard in a long time.

Seungcheol.

“Chief.” Joshua quickly got up and bowed. “You're….are you okay?”

Seungcheol didn't answer, so you figured he nodded. As you heard his footsteps near, you turned, shutting your eyes and bowing, not looking at him.

“Shua, ask Chan to start the car. Y/n and I have to go somewhere.”

Taken aback, you looked up but Seungcheol had walked out already, Joshua following behind, throwing you an apologetic look.

Did he know? Had he decided to drop you to Tartarus by himself?

You had meant to leave the day Seungcheol opened his eyes. You had even packed all your things again but the boys claimed he wasn’t entirely fine yet. So you told yourself you’ll leave the next day and then the next and then the next and now here you were, with him finally well enough.

You didn't know what to do, at least until the sound of Chan's taxi horn resounded in the camp - then you quickly put your bowl in the sink and rushed out. When you reached the car, Seungcheol was already sitting in the passenger seat while surprisingly Seungkwan sat at the back, scooting over to make space for you. No sooner than you got in Seungcheol instructed Chan to go and he did, setting off into the forest at full speed.

The whole of the ride you looked down at the hands on your lap, fingers fiddling with each other nervously. When you began to pick at the skin beside your nails, Seungkwan's hand wrapped around yours, stopping you. You were grateful for that, especially with lightning consistently flashing across the sky, his hand over yours was a comforting weight. But he didn't need to hold on for long, not with the car stopping before a very familiar landmark tree. Getting out of the car, Seungcheol opened the door on your side, instructing both of you to get out and Seungkwan to go sit in front. Puzzled, the two of you complied and Seungcheol went over to Chan,

“Both of you head back to camp.”

Chan looked confused. “But what about you and Y/n?”

“My range rover is still here. I'll bring it back.” He stepped back. “You two should leave.”

Without questioning any further, Chan nodded, reversing the car as Seungkwan shot you a worried look. As they left, disappearing at the end of the road, Seungcheol began to walk into the darkness of the forest while you stood rooted to the ground, unsure about what was happening. It was only when lightning furiously struck the olive tree and it burst into flames that you took a terrified step away, following him.

By the time your eyes adjusted to the darkness, you found Seungcheol’s silhouette standing by his car that had been left here abandoned for days now. Pulling his keys from his pants, he unlocked it, getting into the driver's seat before turning on the engine, the car and the headlights roaring to life.

“Get in.”

You heard his voice over the soft humming of the engine and obeyed, not wanting to fuel his already intensified anger. Seungcheol stared far off at the trees illuminated by the white lights of the car, lost in thought. You didn't dare look at him.

Finally, after what seemed like forever, though it had been barely a minute, he let out a sigh and turned to you. Wordlessly, he tugged you towards him, hand gripping your thigh as he pulled you into his lap. Although surprised, you didn't resist, letting him wrap his arms around you, burying his face in the crook of your neck. Overwhelmed, you hugged him back, as tight as you could, like you never want to let him go. You could feel Seungcheol’s lips curl into a smile against your skin.

“I missed you.” He whispered, nuzzling his nose against your neck.

Letting out a breath of relief, you finally smiled after days. “I…. I missed you too.”

It turned out astronomy student Seungcheol was a resourceful young man.

After nearly fifteen minutes, when the two of you finally broke from the embrace, he headed to the boot of his car and pulled out a tent and a couple of camping supplies - apparently he spent a lot of nights out in the middle of nowhere, studying the stars. You sat and watched as he skillfully erected the tent, gathered some wood and started a campfire. You stared at the flames, thoughts racing in your mind. Camping had once been a very bittersweet memory for you, and you didn't know how today was going to turn out.

When Seungcheol beckoned you to sit next to him by the campfire, you walked over and sat across him instead. It was high time for a conversation; for both of you to tell your truths.

Seungcheol sighed, “I suppose it's time we talked.”

You nodded.

“I know my behaviour over the past many days must be confusing for you.”

You nodded again.

“Before I explain myself I just want to make one thing clear.” He took a deep breath. “I really like you Y/n.”

Your lips parted in surprise. You didn't see that coming.

“I have since the day you stepped into camp, and I saw the way you looked at me, I knew you liked me too.”

“Then why….”

“Do you know why it's always dark in Nyx forest?”

You blinked at the sudden switch of topic.

“Because she's the goddess of the night?”

“Yes, but she's also the goddess of darkness - the trees of her forest are so dense, they don't even allow light in.”

“Okay….”

“Which means other than the Underworld, this is the only place that cannot be seen from the skies, the only place my father has no eyes.”

Zeus?

“You mean…” And you finally realised. “The reason behind everything you were doing is…..your father?”

“I admit at first I didn't make a move on you because I didn't know if you truly liked me or if it was the….”

“....usual attraction women have towards you?”

Seungcheol gulped. “Yeah that, but when your feelings remained consistent after my initial rejection that day in my house, I figured it was real.”

“Then why didn't you kiss me when I came back?” You remembered the lightning in the sky when the two of you were giggling away in the arch of the House of Zeus. Seungcheol's power was thunder, but when you were around him, it had always been lightning. It had always been Zeus. “Was it because of your father?”

Seungcheol nodded slowly, “Ever since your discovery, Olympus has been disturbed. An undetectable aura…. Everyone knew something was different about you.” Oh you knew what was different. “My father wasn't happy that I took you into my camp, so he made it very clear that I stay away from you. Otherwise he… would do what was necessary to keep you away.”

“Zeus… threatened me?”

Seungcheol nodded. “Ever since then I have been on the edge around you, always guarded, always alert, always nervous…” Oh. His force field. No wonder. “That's why I was surprised you could touch me without being electrocuted. But now that I think about it, maybe the force field wasn't active to begin with. Perhaps I was selfish, perhaps I wasn't antagonised enough and my desire to have you was greater than my desire to protect you.”

“Cheol….” You sighed, getting up and sitting beside him, taking his hand in yours. You had no idea he felt this deeply about you - all this while you assumed he didn't care. “I don't understand, why does your father care so much about….us? We're grown adults, we can make our own choices.”

Seungcheol grew silent. Then he took a deep breath,

“Olympus is…dying.” You frowned as he continued. “Yes the Gods are immortal but they've lived for too long, they've ruled for too long. After the Titans, they had been undefeated, ruling for centuries and now they're looking to step down on their own. They're looking for heirs and… Zeus wants me to be his.”

You could feel your heart pounding in your ears. Seungcheol….King of Olympus? Of course Zeus didn't want him to have anything to do with you, you were an anomaly, part monster.

“Do you want to be…. I mean, is that what you want?”

“Being King of Gods? I don't know, I was never asked if it's what I wanted. For as long as I remember, ever since I was a little boy, Zeus only told me to train hard, to become worthy.” He sighed. “I don't know about being King but I do want to be branded as his heir - having Zeus's blessing would make winning the quests a lot easier. I want that for my boys.”

You scoffed disbelievingly. “Is winning a sparring competition really worth it?”

Seungcheol’s expression was incredulous. “Winning the quest isn't just winning a title Y/n. The camp which wins is set free - it is disbanded and the members are allowed to return to the mortal world, to live their own lives, have careers and friends and families. Winning the quest means winning freedom.”

Oh.

“The boys have been working hard for years yet we haven't been able to win a season. If I'm branded Heir of Zeus, it will be easier to make alliances, to gain favors. His Mark would change the whole game.”

“His Mark?”

“His heir would carry some sort of identifiable symbol of Zeus called His Mark, I don't know what exactly, he hasn't officially branded me yet.”

“Why not?”

“He still doesn't feel I'm worthy enough, he thinks I can do better. Train harder, lead the team better, choose my partner better….”

The two of you fell in a painful silence.

“Y/n as much as I want His Mark, I want you too-”

“But you can't have both can you?”

Seungcheol slowly shook his head.

“You can't have both anywhere but here…” You slowly added. “Zeus isn't watching you here right?”

“He isn't but all that lightning earlier…. those were warnings. I suppose he suspects.” Seungcheol looked up, eyes meeting the trees instead of the sky. “I hoped this would seem like an attempt to get the car back but I guess not.”

“Does that mean this is the first and last time we're going to be civil with each other?” You chuckled sadly. “Are we going to go back to the Cold War?”

“Y/n,” Seungcheol turned to you, gripping your hands tighter. “Let me just become his heir, officially that is, receive His Mark, win the quest and then we can do whatever - he can't stop me.”

“So you…you want us to work?”

He nodded. “Of course I do. Y/n I mean it, I really do like you and I want us to at least have a chance - that is if…. if you want me too.”

You did want him. Of course you wanted him, but the fact still remained - you were part monster. Would Seungcheol, the leader who put his boys above all, the man who was to rule the heavens, still want you if he knew? It was only right to tell him the truth but…

Perhaps you took a little too long to muse. You were drawn out of your thoughts as Seungcheol retracted his hand.

“It's completely okay if you don't…”

You gripped his fingers, looking at him determined. Seungcheol seemed confused by your mismatching actions but he waited for you to say something. Instead, you showed him.

Leaning forward you pressed your lips against his, softly at first before he tilted his head further capturing your mouth in a frenzy.

The two of you kissed like teenagers in the heat, licking, sucking, moaning into each other's mouths. Lips swollen, neck almost catching a cramp from the angle, but you continued, sliding into his lap, your legs across his, whimpering when he squeezed your thighs. Instinctively, you grabbed the hem of your t-shirt and lifted it, pulling it over your head and tossing it on the floor after which you realised….. the forest was watching.

“What's wrong?” Seungcheol looked at you concerned, trying his best not to ogle at your breasts.

“Feels like we're being watched.” You muttered, wrapping your arms around his neck, pressing yourself closer to him so you didn't feel so exposed.

Laughing, Seungcheol looked up at you fondly, tucking your hair behind your ear. “Everything in the Nyx forest embodies her, she's present everywhere.”

“So we're going to have sex in…in front of a goddess?”

“Oh we're going to have sex?” He grinned at you teasingly.

“Cheol…” You whined. “Yes, yes we are, but I just don't know about here…”

“Nyx isn't just any goddess, she's a primordial. Unlike the gods, she doesn't have a human form. She's just an entity, spread through her realm.”

“So she just… exists?”

He nodded. “She doesn't come under the rules that govern the Gods - she's above and beyond the inhabitants of Olympus.”

“Does that mean she won't tattle on Zeus about us?”

Seungcheol laughed, placing a butterfly kiss on your nose, like you were too cute for him to handle. “She is the one god Zeus is terrified of so no, he won't ask and she won't tell.”

“Thank fuck.” You muttered and kissed him again, your urgency nearly knocking him over. Balancing your weight over him, Seungcheol chuckled, pulling you closer, tongue slipping into your mouth. You wanted to take his shirt off too but when you tried to reach for the hem, Seungcheol drew back, glancing at your hand.

“What?” You raised your eyebrows, curious but not worried. You had finally learnt that Seungcheol really wanted you. Something else was bothering him.

He shook his head and before you could ask him again, he hooked his arm under your knees and with absolutely zero effort, lifted you, carrying you to the tent. Somehow, after all that happened between the two of you, it was only when he glanced at your face so lovingly that you felt shy, looking away with a smile. Laughing Seungcheol set you down on the sleeping bag before zipping up the entrance, the faint light of the campfire illuminating the inside. You pulled your legs together, hugging your knees and Seungcheol's expression turned amused.

“Didn't take you to be a shy one.”

“I'm not.” You mumbled, “but I don't know. I suddenly feel like a teenager who's out with her boyfriend, about to do it for the first time.”

Seungcheol crouched, his eyes at you level, suppressing a smile. “Boyfriend?”

“Don't get ahead of yourself.” You narrowed your eyes at him.

“I'm just observing.” He laughed. “You like the forbidden.”

“I don't mind the unconventional.” You corrected him.

“Even if it means pretending like we don't want to have anything to do with each other when I like you so damn much?”

You nodded, trying not to blush.

Seungcheol tugged your arms, pulling them away from you. “Even if we have to come to the middle of nowhere every time we want to have sex?”

“Most definitely.”

“And what if I never want to leave this place?” He leaned over, prompting you to lean away, your back hitting the ground as he hovered over you. “What if I want to be inside you and never leave?”

“Works for me.” You grinned, pulling him down by his shirt, kissing him yet again. You couldn't remember the last time you enjoyed making out with someone this much. Maybe it was how soft his lips were, or how eager he was to kiss you back or just how much you craved this, the moment he broke away to kiss your neck, you whined at the loss.

“I've been dying to get my hands on you like this.” He groaned, grabbing a tit with a hand and the other with his mouth, the swirl of his tongue making your back arch. Taking advantage of your raised hips, Seungcheol hooked his fingers along the waistband of your shorts, pulling it down along with your underwear. As he dragged it down your legs, he sat on his heels, looking at you like you were a miracle, causing you to blush all over again. Before you could ask to see him too he descended upon your chest again, trailing down this, mapping your skin with his lips as his fingers teased your folds. Of course you were drenched between your legs, your hands threading his thick tresses as he kissed you at the dip of your waistline, looking up to see you tense in anticipation.

Fuck.

He looked so hot like that, gauging your reactions, eager to please, asking inaudible if he could. When you gave him a soft nod, he wasted no time, throwing your legs over his shoulders, running his tongue deliberately slowly between your folds. The moan that left you was unholy to say the least, grip in his hair tightening as he didn't give you even a second to register it all, tongue slipping into your hole. Your thighs involuntarily squeezed together, trying to chase the feeling though your tried your best to not crush him between your legs, but Seungcheol seemed to be rather enjoying it all, sucking on your clit, coaxing it just the right way. In no time, he had a shiver run down your body, everything tightening in the pits of your being as you came on his tongue and he hummed against his skin, tasting you.

“You taste fucking good.”

“You are fucking good.” You huffed, catching your breath, pulling your legs off his shoulders. “Where did you learn to do that?”

Seungcheol shrugged, straightening himself. “Being the Son of Zeus is not all too bad.”

You rolled your eyes as he undid his pants and leaned down to kiss you, caging you between his arms. His erection pressed against you, causing you to grind your hips, pulling a groan out of him.

“Take your shirt off.” You whispered as he met your hips with his, not reacting. “Let me see you Cheol.”

And when he continued to kiss down your neck without listening, you knew something was wrong.

“Cheol….” Hands on his chest, you pushed him back, putting some distance between the two of you so you could see his face when he winced, like it hurt.

Swearing under your breath, you apologised, sitting up as he did, face contorted in pain. Your hands moved to undo his buttons, when he shook his head, putting his hand in between.

“Cheol let me see.” And when he seemed stubborn as ever, you added. “Are you still going to keep hiding things from me?”

Those words make him lower his guard, allowing you to quickly work his buttons, eyes falling in the centre of his chest. There was a large wound right in the middle, the lesion scabbed, bleeding at places, looking red and devastatingly painful. It was the mark of your fire.

“It’s my fault.” You whispered, terrified to run your fingers all over it. “It's all my fault-”

“This is exactly why I didn’t want to…” Seungcheol sighed. “It’s not your fault Y/n, we both were foolish to not wear gear when we ventured off.”

He still thought you were blaming yourself for leading him to the Chimaera. He deserved to know that it was your fire that hurt him, he deserved the truth, just like he had given you.

“Cheol I need to tell you something-”

“I know. I know the Chimaera was talking to you, that it told you something.” His expression wasn't as grim as you thought it would be. “But whatever it is, it can wait-”

“No it really can’t.”

“Haven’t you had enough of everything around us pulling us apart?” Seungcheol sighed. “There’s always something or the other trying to come between us when all we want is just to be with each other.”

“I know but-”

“Whatever it is can wait till we are done.” He looked at you expectantly. “Unless you insist I need to know right now.”

You should have insisted. You should have told him the truth, but as much as it made you a hypocrite, your resolve faltered, and you shook your head. You were fully naked and halfway through things - it was already too late. If this was the last time you could have Seungcheol then you wanted to savor it.

Relieved, Seungcheol stripped out of his shirt, trying his best to not show the pain in his face. “I’m fine, everything is fine.”

“I’m so sorry.” You whispered, as his lips found yours, your bodies reaching for the ground again, Seungcheol holding his weight from crushing you. Giving his length a few pumps, you watched as he rubbed it against your folds, ignoring your pleas before he finally pushed it into your needy hole and your walls sucked him in immediately.

“Fuck you’re tight.” He groaned, thrusting his hips slowly. A part of you wanted him to gently make love to you like this, but another just wanted to bring that animal out of him again, the one that railed you into oblivion on the hood of his car. All parts of you though, only wanted one thing.

“Don’t….” And from your expression, Seungcheol knew what you were asking for. You didn’t want to cum fast or cum over and over again. You just wanted him. “Please, just let me feel you.”

And he did. Bending your knee, he wrapped your leg around his waist and you immediately followed suit with the other one, locking your ankles behind him. He moved his hips, thrusting to a rhythm of his own - sometimes it was fast, hips snapping away as his eyes were fixed on your face twisted in pleasure. Sometimes it was slow and deep, kissing you on one hand, hitting all the right spots on the other. Either way, you came around him twice, your arousal leaking out, hole sore but you didn’t ask him to stop and neither did he offer to, like he was intoxicated by being inside you. It wasn’t until he frantically asked where you wanted him to come and you tightened your legs around him that he finally stopped, coming inside you, ropes of white coating your walls and filling you up. As he came down from his high, he rolled off you, lying on his back, his chest heaving, catching its lost breath. You snuggled into his arms, careful not to touch his wounds, realising it was finally time to tell him the truth.

But you couldn’t. Not when he wrapped his arms around you, dropping a soft kiss on your forehead, muttering something you didn’t quite hear.

Seungcheol’s truth had fixed what was broken, but your truth would only break the two of you again….

Maybe the truth could wait.

Maybe some things really were better left unsaid.

By the time the two of you returned to camp, the sun began setting behind the horizon.

After the two of you cleaned up, packed the tent and other camping essentials, Seungcheol pulled you into his lap again, tangling his hands in your hair, kissing you. All sense of time lost, the two of you simply made out lazily, kisses interjected by laughter, laughter interjected by more kissing. Although you didn't want to part, he pressed his forehead against yours, sadly whispering, “We should go.”

Throughout the two hour drive, neither of you spoke. You could tell he was itching to hold your hand and you longed to lean on him too but you were not in Nyx's domain anymore, you were under Zeus's skies. If two hours of distance was so difficult you wondered how the two of you would navigate the upcoming days, until Zeus decided to impart his Mark on him. But you'd do it. For him, for what was between the two of you, you'd do it.

But the moment Seungcheol’s car entered the camp, you felt your guts twist. You couldn't place your finger on it all that well but something was very similar to the last time the two of you returned from the Forest of Nyx - all the members rushed towards the car immediately, faces looking both worried and confused.

Seokmin rushed up to Seungcheol whispering something in his ear, the latter glancing at you concerned before asking you to follow him. Immediately, all of you headed towards the temple, murmuring amongst each other, finding Jihoon standing before the altar, two indistinguishable objects in his hand.

“I didn't approach the Oracle.” Seungcheol frowned at Jihoon, puzzled. “How did these arrive….”

“Well,” The Son of Apollo raised the contents in his hand. “They arrived nevertheless, one for you and one for her.”

Everyone turned to you.

“For me?” You pointed at yourself. “What came for me?”

“Scroll of Sacrifice.” He held out a rolled piece of paper to you. “A deal, for one meeting with Goddess Hestia.”

Stunned, you blinked at him.

“And for you,” He turned to his chief. “A deal to receive the Mark of Zeus.”

Seungcheol and you turned to each other surprised - What was going on?

Stretching your hands out unsure, both of you reached for your respective scrolls, the paper immediately unravelling at your touch.

Written right in the middle of your paper, scribbled away in black ink was just one word, a name, one that felt like a knife was plunged into your heart - Seungcheol.

Beside you, Seungcheol had dawned an equally painful expression on his face and over on his paper was a name too.

Yours.

A/n - Phew, what a chapter, this was such a challenge to write but we finally got some cheol action hehe and the ending, yeah, I know, what can I say, its impossible for me to function without a cliffhanger :') Anyways, thank you for reading, please feel free to leave your thoughts and screams and emotions in the comments or the tags - see you in chapter 5!

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puckstories · 2 days ago

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Boyfriend Headcannons | Quinn Hughes

Pairing; Quinn Hughes x Fem!Reader

Warning(s); Fluff, that's it I think. Edited only once.

Summary; What I think Quinn would be like as a boyfriend (:

Word Count; 3.1k

Author’s note; Enjoyed writing this so much, also considering writing a nsfw version if anyone would be interested. As per usual, any thoughts or reblogs are greatly appreciated (: -Honey

Boyfriend Quinn, who absolutely lives for affection.

He’s not always the most vocal about it, but the way he craves your touch, your kisses, your warmth—it’s in the little things he does. Quinn has this quiet, relaxed way of seeking affection that makes your heart swell every single time. He doesn’t always ask for it with words; most of the time, he doesn’t need to.

You’ve learned to recognize his silent cues by now. Whenever he wants a kiss, he won’t say anything. He doesn’t need to. Instead, he’ll simply stop whatever he’s doing and turn toward you, his soft hazel eyes locking onto yours, and then he’ll tilt his head ever so slightly, his lips gently pouting in that way that’s both completely endearing and impossible to resist. He’ll just look at you with that silent, expectant expression, waiting patiently for you to indulge him, because he knows you almost always do.

And how could you not?

Sometimes, he’ll be subtle about it—like when you’re both curled up on the couch, watching a movie. You’ll feel him shift beside you, and when you glance over, there he is, his lips pushed out just a little, eyes soft and hopeful, his attention fully on you. It’s a request, his gentle way of saying, "Come here, kiss me." You’ll roll your eyes playfully, but inside, your heart melts every time. You lean in, pressing your lips against his, and you can feel the contentment in the way his body relaxes, the way his hand automatically finds yours and squeezes, as if thanking you without a single word spoken.

Other times, he’s a bit more bold, more obvious—like when you’re cooking in the kitchen, busy chopping vegetables or stirring something on the stove. You’ll be focused on whatever task you have at hand, and you won’t even notice him sneaking up behind you. He’ll come up and wrap his arms around your waist, resting his chin on your shoulder, and before you even have a chance to say anything, you feel it. He presses his lips to your neck, soft and gentle, and then pulls away just enough to turn his face toward you, lips already slightly puckered, waiting. He doesn’t say a word, but his intentions are clear.

You’ll try to ignore him at first, teasing him, pretending you’re too busy with dinner to give in to his unspoken request. But he’s persistent. He’ll squeeze you a little tighter, nuzzle into your neck, maybe even let out a small, exaggerated sigh to get your attention. And when you finally turn your head, there he is again—pouty lips, soft eyes, silently waiting for the kiss he knows he’s going to get. You give in, every time. You can’t help it.

"Okay, okay," you’ll say with a laugh, turning your head to press your lips against his, giving him exactly what he wants. The way his lips curl into a smile against yours tells you just how satisfied he is.

It’s not just the way he asks for kisses, though. Quinn is equally generous when it comes to giving affection, and he loves surprising you with it at the most random times. You could be in the middle of reading a book or scrolling through your phone, completely absorbed, and suddenly, you’ll feel his presence beside you. He’ll lean in, wrapping his arms around you gently, his hands resting at your waist as he pulls you into a tight hug. No reason. No explanation. Just because he can. Just because he wants to.

And it’s those moments that catch you off guard the most—the way he showers you with love so effortlessly, so naturally. He never needs an excuse. For Quinn, giving you affection is as simple as breathing. It’s the way he expresses his love, the way he reminds you how much he adores you, even without saying a word.

It's in the way, he loves being close to you. He always finds a reason to touch you—whether it’s holding your hand, resting his head on your lap, or draping his arm over your shoulders when you’re sitting beside each other. He’s not clingy, but there’s a need for contact that’s just so Quinn—that gentle, understated craving for connection. And you’re always happy to give it to him, knowing that being close to you is where he feels most at home.

When he’s tired, he’s even more affectionate. After a long day of practice or a tough game, you’ll find him seeking you out the moment he steps through the door. He’ll drop his bag, kick off his shoes, and walk straight to you, wrapping you up in his arms without a word. He won’t even need to say he missed you, because the way he pulls you close, burying his face in your neck, says it all. And when he’s feeling particularly worn out, he’ll simply press his lips to your forehead or your cheek, a quiet sigh escaping him as he relaxes into your touch.

And then there are the nights when he’s lying next to you in bed, the room dark and quiet, both of you just on the edge of sleep. That’s when Quinn is at his softest. He’ll roll over, pulling you closer, his lips brushing over your temple or your shoulder, and you’ll feel his gentle pouting, his silent plea for one last kiss before he drifts off. You oblige him every time, pressing your lips to his in the soft glow of the moonlight filtering through the window, and he’ll hum contentedly, his body relaxing completely as sleep finally overtakes him.

Quinn never needs to say much when it comes to affection—his actions speak louder than words ever could. The way he seeks out your touch, the way he silently asks for your kisses, the way he gives so freely of himself—it’s all a testament to how deeply he loves you, how much he cares about you.

Boyfriend Quinn, who always does the little things for you.

It’s in the smallest, most thoughtful gestures that Quinn shows his love, the kinds of things that make your heart swell and remind you just how lucky you are to have him in your life.

Take winter, for example. As soon as the first snow starts to fall, Quinn’s mind is already on you—making sure you’re taken care of, even when it comes to something as simple as the driveway or your car. He hates the thought of you standing out in the freezing cold, shivering as you scrape ice off your windshield in the early morning before work. So, whenever he’s home and able to, Quinn is always up before you, dressed in his thick jacket and boots, quietly heading outside while you’re still bundled up in bed.

By the time you’re awake and getting ready for the day, the driveway is already clear, the snow neatly shoveled into piles, and your car’s windshield is free of snow and ice. It’s not something he ever makes a big deal about—he doesn’t even mention it, really. You’ll only realize what he’s done when you look out the window and see the work he’s put in, your breath fogging up the glass as you smile to yourself, heart warmed by his thoughtfulness.

You always try to thank him, but Quinn just waves it off like it’s no big deal. "I don’t mind," he’ll say with that soft smile of his. "I just want to make things a little easier for you." And that’s the essence of Quinn—he’s always thinking about how to make your life better, how to take even the smallest burdens off your shoulders, whether it’s clearing the snow or making sure you don’t have to start your day on the wrong foot.

Then, there are the flowers. Every week, without fail, Quinn makes sure to pick up your favorite flowers when he’s out. It’s not a grand gesture, not some big bouquet delivered to your door—just a simple bunch of fresh flowers that he knows will brighten your day. Sometimes, they’re the ones you’ve always loved: delicate peonies, bright sunflowers, or soft, fragrant roses, depending on the season. Other times, he surprises you with something different—wildflowers from the local market or a mix of colors that remind him of you.

The best part is always when he walks in with them, his face lighting up just as much as yours does when he sees your reaction. He loves the way your eyes widen and the way your lips curl into that smile he adores, the one that makes his whole day feel brighter. "You didn’t have to do that," you always say, even though you both know how much you love it when he does. And Quinn just shrugs, placing the flowers on the kitchen counter or the dining room table with an easy grin.

"I like seeing you smile," he says simply, as though that’s all the explanation he needs. And it is—because, to him, these little moments of joy he brings into your life are worth everything.

It’s the same when it comes to things like the dishes. Quinn is the type of boyfriend who doesn’t just pitch in around the house—he takes care of the things he knows you hate. Like dishes. You’ve always hated doing them. It’s that one chore that gets under your skin, and you’ve made it no secret that scrubbing pots and pans is not your idea of fun. Quinn knows this, and so even on nights when he’s the one who cooked dinner, he’ll always make sure to handle the cleanup, too.

"Go relax," he’ll say, waving you off when you try to help. "I’ve got this."

You’ll protest, of course—after all, he’s already done the cooking, and it doesn’t seem fair for him to do it all. But Quinn is stubborn in the best possible way. He’ll roll up his sleeves and start running the water, ignoring your half-hearted attempts to convince him otherwise.

"You hate doing dishes," he’ll remind you with a smile, "and I don’t mind them. Plus, you always do so much for me." And that’s Quinn—always thinking about balance, about making sure you’re taken care of. He knows how much you appreciate the little things, and to him, doing the dishes after dinner is just another way of showing he loves you.

And then, there are the texts. When Quinn’s away for away games, his schedule is packed, and the time zone differences don’t always work in your favor. But he never lets that stop him from staying connected with you. No matter how busy his day gets, no matter how late it is, he always makes sure to send you a good morning and goodnight text, without fail.

Sometimes they’re simple—“Good morning, baby. Hope you have a great day.”—just a little reminder that he’s thinking about you, even when he’s miles away. Other times, they’re more playful—“Wish I was in our bed, I miss your icicle feet”—a teasing note to keep things light even in the middle of a long road trip. And when he’s too tired to string together a full sentence, it’s just a quick “Miss you” with a heart emoji, but that’s all it takes to remind you how much he cares.

He’ll always send these texts right before he crashes into bed, no matter how late or how exhausted he is. And when you wake up in the morning, knowing he’s already thinking about you from wherever he is, it never fails to make your heart skip a beat. It’s the small things like this that mean the most—how, even in the chaos of his life, Quinn makes sure you know you’re never far from his mind.

Boyfriend Quinn, who loves taking you on dates.

Whenever he has an off day, the first thing that crosses his mind is you. He always makes sure to check in with you first, sending you a quick text during the day or giving you a call, gauging how your day is going and whether you’re feeling up for it.

"How's work today? Not too tired? Feel like going out later?"

You never have to guess if he's planning, because you know Quinn's always thinking about how to make the most of his time off with you. It’s his way of creating balance in his life, something steady and beautiful amidst the chaotic whirl of hockey schedules, travel, and games. And even if you’ve had a long day at work, the thought of spending the evening with him—of getting out of the house, hand-in-hand, with nowhere else to be but together—always gives you the energy to say yes.

Most of the time, the two of you keep things casual, finding comfort in the familiar. Your favorite go-to is a small diner just a short drive away, the kind of place that feels like a second home. The staff knows your names, and there’s always that corner booth waiting for you two, tucked away enough for a little privacy. It’s not fancy, but it’s yours. The menu is simple—burgers, fries, milkshakes—but it never fails to hit the spot after a long week. There’s something cozy about it, something that makes you both feel grounded. You’ll sit across from each other, sharing fries and talking about everything and nothing, laughing over inside jokes that no one else would get.

But occasionally, Quinn likes to change things up. There are times when, instead of texting you about grabbing dinner at the diner, he’ll tell you something a little different: “Dress fancy tonight. I’ve got a surprise for you.” You can almost hear the excitement in his voice, even over text.

When Quinn decides to take you somewhere nice, it’s an event. He puts thought into every detail, planning a reservation at a restaurant you both love but don’t visit often—maybe that elegant spot downtown with the candlelit tables and soft jazz playing in the background. He’s a romantic at heart, even if he doesn’t always show it in obvious ways. On those nights, he wants to make sure everything feels just a little more special.

One of the best parts is the little ritual the two of you have before your fancier dates. Even though you live together, Quinn always insists on getting ready in the guest bedroom, leaving you to get dressed in the room you share. It’s his way of adding an element of surprise, a way to keep things exciting. He loves the idea of seeing your outfit for the first time when you come downstairs, just like on your earlier dates, when everything was still new.

The guest bedroom becomes his own little prep space. He’ll spread out his suit jacket or freshly ironed button-down on the bed, taking his time to make sure everything looks just right. Quinn isn’t the type to obsess over his appearance, but on these nights, he pays a little extra attention to the details—whether it’s making sure his tie is perfectly knotted (though, he rarely wears one anymore) or his cologne is subtle but present. He knows how much you love when he dresses up, and honestly, he loves seeing that look in your eyes when you see him standing there, ready for the night.

Meanwhile, in your shared room, you’re just as focused, choosing the perfect dress and making sure your hair and makeup are done to perfection. There’s a thrill in getting ready separately, knowing that in just a few minutes, you’ll come downstairs and have that little moment of reveal. It’s a simple tradition, but it always makes the evening feel a bit more magical.

When you finally step out of the bedroom, your heart always flutters with anticipation. You make your way downstairs, and there he is—standing by the door, looking impossibly handsome in his suit or tailored shirt, his eyes brightening the moment they land on you. It’s like time stops for a second. Quinn’s not one to gush, but the way his lips part slightly and that small, slow smile spreads across his face says everything you need to know.

"Wow," he’ll say softly, his eyes taking you in as if he’s seeing you for the first time. "You look... amazing."

You can’t help but smile back, your cheeks warming at the compliment. "You clean up pretty well yourself," you’ll tease, though you can’t deny how much you love seeing him like this—dressed up, standing there with that look of admiration in his eyes.

He steps forward, closing the distance between you, and without a word, he’ll reach for your hand, bringing it to his lips for a quick kiss—just a little gesture to avoid messing up your lipstick, but one that makes your heart skip a beat every time. It’s these small, quiet moments of affection that make Quinn’s love feel so real, so genuine.

And then, off you go, stepping out into the evening together, hand in hand, as the world seems to fall away. The restaurant is just a short drive, and the conversation flows easily between you, filled with laughter and teasing. When you arrive, the ambiance of the restaurant is perfect—low lighting, the hum of quiet conversations around you, and the soft clink of glasses and silverware. But for you, the real magic of the evening isn’t just the atmosphere or the delicious food—it’s the fact that you’re with him, that Quinn has gone out of his way to make this night special for no reason other than wanting to spend time with you.

Throughout the meal, he’ll reach across the table, his fingers brushing against yours, or he’ll lean in to whisper something that makes you laugh, that private smile playing on his lips. He loves these moments—the ones where it’s just the two of you, away from the rush of life, enjoying each other’s company in a way that feels intimate and timeless.

And when the night is over and you’re both back home, the magic of the evening doesn’t fade. Quinn always makes sure to cap off the date in the sweetest way possible. He’ll pull you in close, his arms wrapping around you as he presses a kiss to your forehead, whispering something like, "I had fun tonight," in that casual, endearing way of his.

#quinn hughes #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes imagines #quinn hughes fanfiction #quinn hughes fic #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes x you

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fluffyk97 · 3 days ago

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Sonic 3 spoiler rambling about Sonic and Shadow under cut !

Y'know something that I feel might go lil under-appreciated is how well they made Sonic and Shadow mirror each other in the movie.

Like something that always can easily irk me are people boasting one of the two over the other because from the very beginning of his introduction to the series, Shadow's character is meant to reflect Sonic. They're meant to be equals that are so similar and complete opposites at the same time.

With the movie, I honestly wasn't expecting it that much. Sonic actually has a backstory that is just like Shadow's: powerful little hedgehog that is wanted for his power, so the one he's known his whole small life that he loves sacrifices herself to save him.

I fr fully expected Sonic to learn about Maria and be like "I lost Longclaw, I know you're pain, but-" blah blah blah- BUT they don't do that??

Of course, we have Commander Walters first telling Sonic that Shadow's story is a lot like his but wasn't able to find family and friends, and Sonic does find Shadow had a family from finding a picture of him and Maria together. He never gets told what happened exactly though, although it wouldn't make too much of a difference with the fact they did change up Shadow losing Maria just a little bit.

Since they didn't live up in space, Maria didn't have a capsule to send Shadow off with sacrificing herself and instead they made it an accident. WHICH- can be understandable if people don't like that, however personally I don't mind it that much because honestly the intent to shoot Maria was there, but she ended up being lost from an accident caused by Walters.

Which, ties in to Shadow hurting Tom...

Walters in trying to help save Maria's, Shadow's and Gerald's lives unfortunately led to Maria's death and watching Shadow be put in stasis for 50 years where all he thinks about is that painful memory burned fresh in his head. So of course when Shadow sees Tom disguised as Walters, he takes his anger out on him by hurting him while also stealing the key for the ARK. Leading to unfortunately another scenario of where the intent of harm is there, but someone still got hurt from an accident because Shadow never really meant to hurt Tom. But he does anyway..

Which of course in turn, makes Sonic mad just like Shadow was 50 years ago. Only difference is Sonic doesn't get immediately captured by GUN and forced into stasis. Letting him able to go straight to Shadow afterwards for hurting his family.

We have Shadow take note of all of that himself, telling Sonic he's feeling exactly the pain he felt and Sonic being the one to say "I'm nothing like you!". Just like how I thought Sonic would tell Shadow about Longclaw in hopes of redeeming him, but reversed and both sides full of anger and grief.

One awesome super fight later though, we come to the talk on the moon. Probably my favorite part in the whole movie. outside of the super fights and Live and Learn playing lol

After mentioning Tom and getting uppercutted straight to the moon by Sonic, Shadow loses his super form, leaving him vulnerable, easy for Sonic to take his revenge on him. Only for all of that to be stopped because of Shadow pointing at his own chest which reminds Sonic what Tom told him at the beginning of the movie and calm down.

"You didn't let pain change who you are."

This completely baffles Shadow, with him actually wanting Sonic to finish it, but of course Sonic just refuses saying "No one wins with revenge". It just leaves silence between them, finally giving Shadow his own moment of remembering Maria outside of her death by looking at the stars he used to gaze upon with her.

He mentions it to Sonic how all he knew and felt was just the pain, and now finally- FINALLY, Sonic mentions how he shares that feeling of loss from Longclaw. Not in a moment of trying to just redeem Shadow without the full weight of it, but in a moment of understanding.

A strong moment of these two looking at each other in a mirror, eye to eye. Sonic, who was allowed to grieve all those years ago after losing Longclaw, telling Shadow the pain of loss will never go away, but the love will always remain.

"The light shines, even though the star is gone."

And through that shared pain and loss, now coupled with empathy and understanding one another through it. They truly connect.

Sonic and Shadow's dynamic was just done SO WELL in the movie and I couldn't be happier with it...

#sonic 3 #sonic move 3 #sonic #sonic spoilers #sonic 3 spoilers #sonic movie 3 spoilers #sonic the hedgehog #shadow #shadow the hedgehog #Sonic snd Shadow #sonadow #Of course this doesn't have to be seen as shippy in any means I just also want sonadow peeps to also see lol #This is pure rambling but also such huge feelings I have with these two and their dynamic that I just forever will adore #Name two fictional characters that are better foils amd reflections of eachother better than these hedgehogs - YOU CAN'T -#(this is a joke not an actual challenge btw)#(i am well aware people can list off many good examples of this type if dynamic that they will deem “better”)#(these two are just MY favorite y'know y'know- imma peaise them whenever i get the chance- lol)

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muletia · 19 hours ago

Note

you've mentioned pegging optimus until he's rambling about getting pregnant, but I NEED u to go more into detail about it. literally foaming at the mouth at the idea of almost taunting him "hmm, any deeper and I'll get you pregnant". him just losing it and begging to be sparked, so u fuck him until he's drooling and borderline incoherent, but still moaning about getting knocked up 😊

𝐢 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐛𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐦 ✧˖°

pegging tfp optimus would fix me actually

cw: valveplug, dom!top!reader, sub!bottom!optimus, pegging, l-bomb, breeding kink, reader uses a strap

word count: 750

He feels too much. Too intensely. Processor has long dismissed logic, replacing coherent thoughts with mindless, shapeless ones resembling tangled threads. Now, there is no responsibility; the stress of gnawing problems has been replaced by pure ecstasy. Feels it everywhere, even at the tips of his digits, which scrape at the berth in search of a nonexistent anchor. His pedes behave similarly. Thighs tremble from the overwhelming pleasure you so generously bestow upon him. He knows he is not making your task easier, but he cannot stop the quivering — proof of how thoroughly you have ruined him.

“You’re doing great, darling,” you praise him, even though Optimus is just laying beneath you looking pretty. This time, the pleasure is all his. “Keep it up, and perhaps we’ll truly end up with a child.”

At the mere mention of having offspring with you, his back arches, and his helm tilts back. Once again, he makes your work harder; feels it in the sudden change in rhythm deep within his valve. But he cannot help it. Besides, you quickly prove how perfectly harmonized you are by adapting to him. You move closer, pressing your hips more firmly against his. Your thighs meet his, smearing themselves with transfluid — a testament to the length of your shared indulgence.

“[Name], ah…” he tries to speak, but it does not come easily. Processor fails to align with his voice box. “Please…”

He cannot finish the sentence when you suddenly pick up speed, thrusting with full force into his poor, battered valve. It looks swollen and is utterly filled with blue fluid, which drips off your fake cock, but this poses no obstacle for Optimus. Despite the sweet torment, he does not want it to end. Not until he is certain that new life will be created within him, ignoring the absurdity and impossibility of it all.

“What’s the matter, darling?” you ask. Is it cruelty, or are you teasing innocently? He cannot tell, but he does not hold it against you. As long as you are inside him, you can do anything you want.

“[Name]…” he tries again. “Nhnn, I beg you… ah! Please, give me a sparkling! Hah, please! I want… I-I want to be sparked…”

Tears pool in the corners of his optics. You are also certain that the glistening substance around his mouth is his equivalent of saliva.

Holy shit. The great Optimus Prime reduced to a begging, drooling, mindless wreck. Thanks to you. The sight before you is entirely your doing. All it took was once mentioning the topic of children and pregnancy, casually letting it slip during the climax that you would love to have a child with him. As a fantasy, a byproduct of diving too deep into domspace. And he took the bait, completely enchanted by the idea of you knocking him up, even though he knows it is impossible.

Well, for such a sight, it was worth feeding his delusions.

“Since you are asking so nicely…” you murmur.

Your eyes meet, and at that moment, you grab the blue armor plates on his hips and push the silicone cock deeper until you are pressed tightly together. Optimus roars, overwhelmed by you, but he still seems to draw closer, craving more. He wants to become one, to unite in the most intimate way.

“I… I love you,” he mumbles. Your gazes cross again.

“Oh yes, I’m getting you pregnant, big boy.”

You move your hips again. This time faster, leaving no room for doubt about your intentions. You will break the laws of biology if you must.

He feels you relentlessly pumping his own transfluid back into him, as if to assure him you will fulfill his illusory wish.

“Ah, yes! T-thank you, thank you…” he whines. His back arches again, digits claw ferociously at the berth.

He does not know how much longer he can hold out before his body gives up entirely and he won't be able to move even his optics. But he wants to savor this. The fleeting moment, because he does not know when the next one will come. And your kindness, your willingness to tend to him and satisfy his warped, corporeal needs.

“I want… I want a sparkling, ah! with you,” he moans, lost in the subspace. “Give me one, nhnn [Name], I beg you!”

“I love you too,” you pant.

More transfluid spills from his valve, but Optimus gives you no sign to stop, still focused on his mission. Babbling nonsense about pregnancy and having offspring. Preferably several.

#be silly #transformers x reader #optimus x reader #obsessed!optimus #valveplug

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eiralunaire · 2 days ago

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Damian gently laid you down on the couch, his movements calculated but charged with a palpable intensity. He stared at you for a moment, as if he wanted to etch every detail of this moment into his memory. The fire in the fireplace cast dancing shadows across his features, accentuating the hardness of his jaw and the intensity of his gaze.

“Tell me you want this as much as I do,” he murmured, his voice a low whisper that reverberated in the space between you.

“I want it,” you replied, your voice barely audible but firm.

His lips met yours again, this time with a mix of tenderness and urgency that made the air around you feel thicker. His hands, warm and firm, moved slowly from your face to your sides, running over your body with an adoration that left you breathless.

Damian was meticulous, as if each caress was designed to draw sighs from you and make you forget the outside world. His body, trained and hardened by years of combat, moved with an unexpected delicacy, as if he were afraid of breaking something precious.

“I never thought I would need this, that I would need you like this,” he confessed as his lips moved to your neck, leaving a trail of kisses that ignited every fiber of your being.

“Damian,” you whispered his name, a mix of pleading and emotion that seemed to turn him on even more.

He paused for a moment, his green eyes searching yours, as if he wanted to make sure you were completely with him in this moment.

“This isn’t just one night for me,” he said in a grave tone, his sincerity piercing you like an arrow straight to the heart. “You’re all I want, all I ever wanted.”

The words left a lump in your throat, and all you could do was raise a hand to touch his face, gently tracing the line of his jaw.

“I’m not here for just one night, Damian,” you replied with the same intensity. “I’m here to stay, if you let me.”

The emotion on his face was indescribable. Without another word, he caught you again in a kiss that spoke of silent promises and deep feelings, letting the rest of the night become an exchange of emotions that had been contained for too long.

The fire crackled in the fireplace, the rain gently tapped the windows, and in that instant, the outside world ceased to exist. Only the two of you remained, giving yourselves over to the discovery of something you both knew you couldn’t, nor wanted to, stop.

His hands slid down your body, touching you as if he wanted to memorize every curve, every detail. His movements were precise, but there was also an air of desperation, as if he feared this moment might disappear.

The heat between you intensified, and the atmosphere grew heavier, more charged. Every caress, every kiss, ignited a spark that threatened to turn into an uncontrollable fire. His lips trailed down your neck, leaving a trail of kisses and small bites that sent shivers down your spine.

“Tell me if you want me to stop,” he murmured against your skin, his voice husky and full of desire.

“Don’t,” you replied without hesitation, your hands clinging to him as if you wanted to make sure he didn’t pull away.

Damian responded with a low growl, a mix of satisfaction and need, as he lifted you into his arms, carrying you towards his room. His movements were fluid, as if each step was charged with clear intention.

The room was dark, but the soft light from the rain falling outside illuminated his features as he gently placed you on the bed. He stood for a moment, looking at you with an intensity that took your breath away.

“You’re everything I’ve ever wanted, even when I didn’t know I did,” he said as he leaned into you, his voice heavy with promise and emotion.

That night, Damian wasn’t the relentless warrior, nor the disciplined Robin. With you, he was just a man giving himself completely to the moment, letting emotions and desire consume him.

Part One, part Two

#damian wayne #damian wayne x reader #dcu #dc comics

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tkwrites · 10 hours ago

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Soft Launch; Hard Launch - Quinn Hughes x ofc

gif from @kawhh

Title: Soft Launch; Hard Launch: A 500 Follower Celly

Author: Tory / @tkwrites

Relationship: Quinn Hughes x Sarah Roberts (ofc)

Warnings: Though most of this is fluff, there is a really nasty comment left on a social media post and mentions of poor self body image.

Summary: 4 times Quinn soft launched his relationship with Sarah, and one time he did it for real.

Word Count: 2,900

Comments: The idea of writing a 4+1 fic for my 500 mark has been rolling around my head for a while, so when I hit 500 followers about a week ago, I thought I'd try my hand at it. Many thanks to @aloragrace and @captainlexaproluvr for looking over this piece and calming my fears about doing new things. I’ve never written in this format before, but I quite like the way this turned out. I’d love to know what you think!

I'm just bowled over and so excited! Thank you all so much. Knowing people enjoy my writing has been so fulfilling to me. I’ve wanted to write since I was about thirteen, but never had the guts to publish anything for people other than my friends to read. Now that I have and know that people like it, it feels a bit like I’m giving my little inner awkward teenager the best gift she could ever ask for. Thank you for your encouragement, kindness, and support! I can’t tell you how much it means to me.

If you did enjoy this Snapshot, please let me know by commenting, reblogging, or sending in an ask. Your encouragement and comments truly inspire me to keep writing.

Soft Launch; Hard Launch: A 500 Follower Celly

A Quinn & Sarah Snapshot

The first time Quinn put Sarah on his social media was after they got home from the family reunion. The Monday after she left, he was looking back through his photos while he waited for her to get off work. He found one from their beach day he’d completely forgotten he’d taken. Sarah was kneeling over a tide pool with a few of his cousins, pointing to something in the water, while they looked into her face with rapt attention.

Even though her face was mostly hidden from view, she looked beautiful in that casual way he loved so much. Her hair was up in a bun, and she was wearing a pair of denim shorts along with her orange swim top.

Do you mind if I put this on my stories? he asked later that night, once she'd texted that she’d arrived home safely and would call as soon as she changed.

“I don’t mind,” she told him after they said their initial hellos, caught up on each other's day, and he asked again. “I’m a little surprised this is the first photo you want to go with,” she admitted.

“Why?”

“I don’t know. I thought maybe you’d want to go with something more…” she trailed off, unsure exactly how to phrase what she was thinking. She’d only glanced at it, but from what she remembered, the photo wasn’t anything special. It was from the tide pools, and though it fulfilled the mission of showing her without showing her whole face, she didn’t look excessively beautiful or anything. In fact, the first thing she’d zeroed in on were her stomach rolls. Echoes of girls calling her too fat to be with NHL superstar Quinn Hughes rang in her mind.

“I like it,” he defended before she could find the right words or slide down the slippery slope of body image woes. “You’re doing what you love.”

It melted something in her that he looked at that photo and saw her passion. “That’s really sweet, Quinn.”

“So it’s okay?”

How could she say no now? “Yeah. It’s okay.” She reminded herself she wouldn’t see any of the things people were saying about her unless she sought them out, which she had no intention of doing.

He put it up with nothing more than an orange heart in the corner as soon as they hung up from the FaceTime call.

Less than a minute later, Eunice raced into Sarah's room. She was so overly excited, she ran into the door jam, bouncing off of it before regaining her balance. She thrust her phone into Sarah's face. “Quinn put you on his stories!”

Glancing at the screen, Sarah smiled. “Yeah, he just asked me if he could put that photo up.”

“Oh my god. This is so dreamy,” she gushed, turning the phone back around to look at the picture again. “You look so pretty.”

The second soft launch was on his main feed at the end of the summer, though he still didn’t show her face.

It wasn’t until they got home from Hawaii and all shared their photos that Quinn realized just how many pictures his mom had taken. He was used to her snapping pictures of them - it was a very common occurrence to look around at any given moment, especially on vacation, to find her brandishing a camera to document everything she could.

He’d never appreciated it more until he was looking through the shared album and saw all the moments his mom caught. There were photos of him and his brothers and him and Sarah once she got there. There was even a video of his and Luke’s shock at their girlfriends’ arrival.

His favorite picture she took was from the beach outside of their vacation rental. Anxious for a quiet moment together, Sarah pulled him outside to watch the sun set.

The rest of the family was inside, debating something about dinner. They had been on a kayak and hiking tour that day, and he was so tired, he was beyond caring. As long as some kind of food was provided, he’d be fine.

His mom must have walked out onto the back porch to snap the photo.

The sun, sinking into the ocean in front of them, turned them into shadow as Sarah leaned her head on his shoulder. It was the kind of photo people put in vacation advertisements, and when he’d seen it, he knew it had to be included in his end of summer review.

He uploaded it with a carousel of six other photos before captioning the post, One for the books.

After receiving sixty notifications in the first five minutes, most of them from people he didn’t know asking who the girl in the 5th photo was, he muted the app.

It wasn’t until he looked at the comments that evening and saw, I think this must be that fat bitch he was dating during the season. I was hoping they’d broken up since he didn’t stay in Vancouver this summer and she did, that he disabled comments all together.

He’d been so angry that someone who didn’t know either of them would say anything like that, he had drafted a reply before realizing he was about to engage in a reactionary argument with someone he didn't even know or have any emotional ties to. He wanted to correct them, but knew he should really get PR help to do that.

When they talked about social media for the first time in their relationship, Sarah explained how the comments from these so-called fans made her feel. Even though she knew they didn’t know her as a person and didn’t have any place in their relationship or lives, it was difficult not to let them get to her.

He knew the feeling well. He’d gone through the same thing when he accepted the captaincy. The pressure to perform had been so immense, it had turned him into a snappy, short-fused, irritable person until, at the advice of some other captains in the league, he started putting his phone down regularly.

The third came when it was his turn to sit for a 32 Thoughts podcast episode with Elliott and Kyle, and they were shooting the breeze before the actual interview began.

“We missed you at dinner,” Elliott said, referencing a banquet that the league had hosted the night before for all players and press on site for the whirlwind pre-season media tour.

Without really thinking about it, Quinn found himself explaining, “my girlfriend's family lives here, so Jack and I had dinner with them last night.”

“She's not here?” Elliott asked.

“No, she has stuff going on back home so she couldn't be, but it was nice to see them.” Some players brought family to the media tour, but not many. It was a short stint, shorter than most road trips during the season, so most didn’t bother.

Their producer, Shanna, flashed a red light, letting them know it was time to start the formal interview. Kyle counted down, “three two and one,” before introducing Quinn and starting with the questions.

At the end of the recording, both Elliott and Shanna asked if he wanted them to cut his talk about his girlfriend and her family from the episode. Usually, they left those anecdotal conversations in, especially on the youtube videos, but this one was a bit more nuanced.

“I think it should be fine, but can I talk to her about it and get back to you?”

“Of course,” Shanna said, smiling. “It’s not slated to go up for a few weeks, so just let us know by the 17th.”

When he'd asked Sarah about it that night after arriving home, she seemed unconcerned.

“I think that's kind of up to you.” She knew from their FaceTime conversation the night before that Quinn, Jack and their agent had eaten at Rachel's house, so there was no risk of someone posting photos and making the connection they were with her family.

“I mean, people have been speculating you have a girlfriend, right?” she asked.

“Yeah.” It was more than speculation at this point - most people knew he had someone. They just didn’t know who she was.

“And people who found my instagram already know I’m from Nevada, so I don’t really see what the worry is.”

He’d expected her to be more worried about it, but now that she was responding to him with cool logic, he had to admit she had a point.

The next day, he messaged Elliott along with his agent to let them know they could keep the anecdote in the recording.

When it hit the airwaves, Sarah purposefully didn’t check any of the messages Eunice sent her for a few days. Eunice had taken it upon herself, and continued at Sarah’s request, to report big gossip to her so Sarah wasn’t tempted to go on the blogs or fan accounts.

Most responses were sort of victorious bragging, posting about connections with Sarah’s instagram “about me” section where she talked about being from Nevada, feeling that this interview proved them right.

The fourth time wasn’t planned.

When Quinn got home from their first regular season road trip, the apartment was dark. It was past two in the morning, and Sarah had a therapy appointment at eight, so she hadn't waited up for him.

In his trek through the apartment, he paused by the dining room table. Until Sarah moved in, walking into the apartment after a road trip was often the worst part of the whole thing. He was always glad to be back in his own bed, but nothing seemed to exasperate his singleness more than coming home. Not only was he going from being surrounded by the team to being totally alone, he was coming home to an empty house. The combination of the two felt stiflingly lonely.

The mess of textbooks, highlighters, and notebooks left out on the dining room table was such proof of someone else living in the house, it made his chest feel full.

In a spur of the moment act, he snapped a picture of the dimly lit chaos and posted it to his Instagram stories. No caption, no explanation. Just the simple proof that he wasn't alone.

“Why did you put a picture of my books on your instagram?” she asked the next day after getting home from her appointment.

He shrugged, “I liked it.”

The season before, anytime she would study at his house, she would clean everything up, organizing it all back into her bag before going home or coming to bed.

Now, her books often stayed out on the dining room table on weekends. He offered to convert one of the spare bedrooms into an office for her, or let her use the office he had a computer in now, but she turned him down.

“I like studying out here,” she'd said, glancing up to look out of the windows. “If it bothers you, I can put everything away.”

“It doesn't bother me,” he'd said, leaning down to kiss her temple. “I just want you to be comfortable here.”

She had beamed at him and turned her head to brush her mouth over his.

Quinn waited until the one year anniversary of the day he and Sarah met to officially announce their relationship.

He knew by that time that they could go the distance. He'd seen her through every month and every season and saw no major red flags. Not to mention the fact that everyone in his life liked her, and her family and friends seemed to like him.

Over the course of the year, he'd moved pictures he liked of Sarah and pictures he liked of them together into a favorites album he simply called S. So, in late January, he put together a post and sent it to his PR rep to look over. After they sent it back with some edits, he showed it to Sarah.

Sarah, who for her part, knew this was coming but wasn’t quite sure what to expect, was taken a bit off guard. She knew Quinn read a lot and was thoughtful with his words, but reading his simple summary of their relationship made her melt.

He’d included 5 pictures of her that were interspersed with 5 pictures of them together. The first photo was that perfect, golden hour sunset selfie. The rest were all photos she knew he loved. She’d seen some of them, and some of them, she hadn’t. There was a candid shot of her laughing with Jack and Luke that she hadn’t seen before as well as a picture she never knew he’d taken of her sitting at the dining room table with her laptop, looking pensively at the screen, fingers poised to type. There was the photo of them in front of their Christmas tree, and one of them laughing so hard, they were falling all over each other on a beach in Hawaii.

Under the photos, he’d simply written, The best year. and tagged her in the final photo - the dreamy picture Kaitlyn had taken of them under the mistletoe.

“Quinn,” she breathed, looking up to find him smiling expectantly at her.

“You like it?” he asked.

“I really like it,” she said, fighting back the tears that pushed at her eyes.

“You’re sure you’re okay with this?”

He was ready for the world to know that not only was he taken, he was taken with her, and not afraid to say it, but he knew it would likely open up another door of criticism she’d never been exposed to before.

“Yeah,” she said, nodding. “I’m ready.”

The fact that Quinn wanted the world to know, without a doubt, that she was the one he was with made her heart race.

They didn’t have to hide anymore. To her, it was the last, final cementing block in their relationship. It spoke of his faith in their future and his dedication to staying with her. He wouldn't put it out for the world to see if he had any doubts.

He posted it right before practice two days later so he could work the anxiety of it off.

When he got back to his locker an hour and a half later, he had 1,654 likes and over 200 comments. At first glance, they all seemed positive. Not that what random strangers thought of him meant much, but it was nice to know his fans were happy he was happy.

Bonus scene:

On the afternoon of the anniversary of their one year of meeting, Reece stopped Sarah as she walked into the building after work.

“I’ve got a delivery for you, Ms. Roberts,” he said, walking with her over to the security desk.

Before he’d even picked them up, Sarah knew it must be the large bouquet of flowers that were an absolute riot of color - purple and yellow, red and pink, white and green.

Quinn was out of town - playing in Toronto at that very moment, in fact - and she knew he must have sent them in place of being there in person.

“Thank you, Reece,” she said, accepting the flowers and a card from him before heading upstairs.

Trying to manage the vase, card, and her school bag, as well as press the button in the elevator, resulted in her accidentally slopping a large amount of water down her front. Thankfully, the large bouquet hid the spill from anyone else in the elevator, and she was the only one to get off on the top floor. Upon entering the apartment, she set the vase and card on the bar and went straight up to change.

It wasn’t until she wandered down to make dinner during the second intermission and saw the bright flowers that she remembered the card.

Her full name was on the envelope in someone else’s writing, and the front of the card was completely blank, so when she flipped it open, she was surprised to find Quinn’s handwriting filling most of it.

It’s been one year since I took refuge in the aquarium, only to stumble upon a beautiful woman giving a talk about octopus and took the chance to ask her out. Back then, I just thought she was one of the most beautiful people I’d ever seen. Now I know that not only is she beautiful, she’s smart, kind, supportive and so driven she inspires me to do better. I don’t like to think what my life would be like if she’d turned down my offer for lunch, or I didn’t get up the guts to talk to her. This time with her has been a whirlwind and the best year of my life.

I wrote this for the caption of the post that went up today, then realized the only person I really wanted to read it was you.

Happy one year of meeting, Sarah. I’m so glad you took a chance and went out with me even though I was more than a little awkward.

I love you.

Love,

Quinn

Moved to tears by his thoughtful words, Sarah snapped a picture of the flowers to put up on her stories, adding the caption, Love you, @_quinnhughes, before texting him.

I love you. I can’t believe it’s been a year. Here’s to a million more.

Want more Quinn & Sarah? Check out the Snapshots Masterlist

To read all my fics, check out the Fanfiction Masterlist

#quinn & sarah snapshots #quinn hughes #qh43 #captain quinn #quinn hughes fanfiction #quinn hughes blurb #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes one shot #quinn hughes fic #quinn hughes au #quinn hughes x oc #quinn hughes x #4 + 1 #nhl fanfiction #hockey fanfiction #hockey romance #500 followers #thank you thank you thank you #500 follower celly

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ryebread0605 · 3 days ago

Note

please please I beg you Jamil with a fetish for corruption please

Damn yall really got me exposing my kinks publicly lmao

I will warn, this could be read as dubcon so be aware! Continuing to read means you acknowledge this (as, in this, the reader is innocent towards sexual matters)

with that out of the way, enjoy!

You were a breath of fresh air in Night Raven College. Soft spoken, kind to everyone, and as sweet as honey. Your smile could make even Sebek smile back, even with his hatred of humans. But the one person who had his eyes on you the most was Jamil Viper.

To him, you were everything he wished he could have. Someone who had spent countless nights fixing up dishes for Kalim, someone who came to every one of his games and cheered him on (sure, you were cheering on the whole team, but you cheered for him the loudest in his mind). You represented a light in his life that he wanted.

So why then did he sit here thinking of you in such crude ways? Why did he think of the sight of you beneath him, eyes blurred with tears of pleasure causing makeup to run down your perfect skin? Thoughts of you shaking and begging for more, not understanding fully what he’s doing but knowing you want more of it. He had to have you. He had to be the one to teach you.

When an opportunity presented itself one night as the two of you were cooking for tomorrow’s party, he couldn’t let the chance go to waste. He started small, his hand lingering a bit too long over yours, soft brushes against your backside, pressing himself a bit closer than normal to you. You noticed but thought nothing of it as his movements had changed drastically since the day you met him.

But he couldn’t let you think it was a simple coincidence. He needed to let you know it was all intentional. He needed to give you a chance to reject him. To think long and hard about what you wanted to do about this. So he moved his hand to your knee, his fingertips sliding over your stockings, the lightest caresses. Your skin was soft and warm, and he just wanted to touch more of you. He needed to touch more of you.

“(Name),” he began softly, whispering into your ear, “aren’t you warm with all those layers on?”

The question barely seemed out of place to you, it was quite warm in the kitchen afterall. So, with a bit of a nod, you slipped the cardigan you had on off of your arms and placed it neatly over the chair nearby. Jamil smirked at this, the look of pure innocence in your eyes only made the fire in his stomach grow more.

He had to see more.

And so, a few minutes later as you turned towards him with the spatula he asked for, he ‘accidentally tripped’ and spilt vanilla extract down the front of your white button up school uniform top.

“Oh Sevens (name), I’m so sorry I’ll try to get it out” he knew full well what he was doing as he rubbed the stain further into the shirt, using the opportunity as a chance to feel your chest a bit. As the stain spread, he continued to fake being apologetic of the ‘accident’.

“I’m so sorry (name), I’ll grab you one of my shirts and clean that one right away” he hated having to pretend and lie to you in the same way he had to lie and pretend to Kalim but in this case, he was actually gaining something from it.

A soft laugh came from you as you simply smiled and unbuttoned your shirt, “it’s alright Jamil! Accidents happen, I’ll just be more careful next time!” He couldn’t believe his eyes as you innocently lay the shirt on top of your cardigan, now left in just a bra. He thought the most he would see was you in one of his shirts, and now he couldn’t ignore the tight feeling of his pants.

Sensing his discomfort, you turned to him and tilted your head, “is everything alright Jamil?” A thought, one so perverted and wrong, formed in his mind as a smile made its way to his lips, “actually my dear, I have a bit of a problem. And since you caused it, would you be the one to help me solve it?”

And that’s how you found yourself here, kneeling in front of him as he guided your head gently to take his cock in your mouth. It was a foreign feeling to you, but the praises he gave you made something inside you want more. And the way you looked up at him with those big, adorable eyes made him struggle to hold back. He knew he had to take it slow, and right now this was more than enough.

He talked you through how to suck him off right, telling you which parts made him feel best and where to put your hands. The feeling of your warm mouth around his cock was heavenly, his head thrown back in pleasure and low groans of pleasure coming from his lips.

“Just like that, you’re so good for me (name), just a little more~” he ran his fingers through your hair gently before suddenly pushing your head all the way down, a muffled gasp coming from your lips as hot ropes of cum poured down your throat before he pulled your head off his now not as hard cock. The way your tongue lolled out of your mouth when you softly panted, his cum dribbling down your chin, your eyes staring right at him, Sevens it was addicting to see.

“Now my dear, it’s my turn to show you how good things can feel~”

#disney twst #twst x reader #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland smut #twst smut #twisted wonderland x fem reader #jamil viper

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okasuka · 2 days ago

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Bruce wayne x readerrr

a/n - i’m bored soooo…..basically bruce is a jealous hoe!!! 🙏🏽🙏🏽 man whore bruce is real

Part 1: Setting the Stage

The Wayne Foundation gala was a grand affair, hosted in one of Gotham’s most opulent hotels. Crystal chandeliers sparkled overhead, reflecting the warm, golden light that bathed the room. Waiters moved seamlessly through the crowd, balancing trays of champagne flutes and hors d’oeuvres, while the murmur of polite conversation mingled with the soft strains of a live orchestra.

You found yourself at the edge of the ballroom, observing the throngs of Gotham’s elite. Socialites, CEOs, and politicians mingled, their designer outfits and glimmering jewelry a testament to their wealth. You couldn’t help but feel slightly out of place among them, though you had to admit you looked stunning in the gown Bruce had chosen for you—a sleek, floor-length piece that hugged your figure perfectly.

Bruce was in his element, weaving through the crowd with the kind of ease that only someone born into Gotham’s upper crust could manage. He looked devastatingly handsome in his perfectly tailored tuxedo, his dark hair swept back and his piercing eyes scanning the room. You were acutely aware of his hand resting on the small of your back, a subtle but deliberate gesture that spoke volumes.

“Relax,” he murmured, leaning in close so that only you could hear him. His deep voice sent a shiver down your spine. “You look like you’re planning your escape.”

You tilted your head up to meet his gaze, giving him a wry smile. “Is it that obvious?”

He chuckled softly, the sound warm and rich. “You’re doing fine. Just stick with me, and you’ll survive.”

“I don’t know how you do this,” you admitted, gesturing subtly to the room full of power players. “All this… posturing.”

“It’s part of the job,” he said simply, his expression unreadable. “But having you here makes it bearable.”

Before you could respond, a group of older men approached, all of them clearly eager to speak with Bruce. You stepped back slightly, not wanting to intrude on the conversation. Bruce’s hand lingered on your back for a moment before he reluctantly let you go.

“Don’t wander too far,” he said softly, his dark eyes locking onto yours.

“I won’t,” you promised, though you weren’t entirely sure where else you’d go.

Part 2: The Invitation

As Bruce began speaking with the group, you drifted toward a quieter corner of the room, your eyes scanning the crowd. You spotted familiar faces here and there—prominent Gothamites whose names were splashed across the society pages. It was a world Bruce belonged to by birthright, but you still felt like an outsider looking in.

Your thoughts were interrupted when a striking blonde woman made her way toward Bruce. She was tall and elegant, her shimmering gown clinging to her figure in a way that left little to the imagination. You watched as she approached him with a confidence that only someone used to getting their way could muster.

“Mr. Wayne,” she said, her voice honeyed and smooth. She placed a hand lightly on his arm, her red lips curving into a practiced smile. “I’ve been hoping to get a moment of your time all evening.”

Bruce turned to her, his expression polite but distant. “Miss…?”

“Charlotte Sterling,” she supplied, her smile widening. “We met at the Metropolis Gala last year. I doubt you’d remember—there were so many people there.”

Bruce inclined his head slightly, a noncommittal acknowledgment. “Of course. Nice to see you again.”

“Would you do me the honor of a dance?” she asked, her hand lingering on his arm. Her tone was light, but the look in her eyes made her intentions clear.

You couldn’t hear Bruce’s response over the noise of the crowd, but you saw the subtle way his body shifted, a polite yet firm rejection in the making. However, Charlotte wasn’t easily deterred. She leaned in closer, her smile turning coquettish as she said something that made Bruce’s jaw tighten.

Your chest tightened as you watched the interaction, jealousy stirring in your gut. You told yourself you had no reason to feel that way—Bruce was here with you, after all. But the sight of the blonde so blatantly vying for his attention made your insecurities bubble to the surface.

Before you could stop yourself, you stepped forward. “It’s just a dance,” you said lightly, drawing both their attention. Your tone was calm, but there was a subtle challenge in your gaze as you looked at Bruce. “Go ahead.”

Bruce’s dark eyes narrowed slightly, and for a moment, you thought he might argue. But then his expression shifted, and he gave you a small, almost imperceptible nod.

“If you insist,” he said, though his voice held a note of reluctance.

Charlotte beamed, clearly pleased with her victory, and led Bruce onto the dance floor. You watched as they moved together, the blonde pressing herself far closer to him than was strictly appropriate. Bruce, for his part, kept his posture rigid, his movements controlled and detached. But the sight still stung.

Part 3: An Unwelcome Distraction

You turned away, determined not to let it bother you. Bruce had made it clear that his interest was in you, not her. But the sight of them together lingered in your mind, feeding your doubts.

“Rough night?” a voice asked, pulling you from your thoughts.

You glanced to your right and saw a man standing beside you, a drink in hand. He was handsome in a polished, generic sort of way, his dark suit tailored to perfection. His smile was charming, but there was an edge of smugness to it that immediately put you on guard.

“Not particularly,” you said coolly, taking a sip of your champagne.

“Could’ve fooled me,” he said, his gaze lingering on you in a way that felt far too familiar. “You looked like you could use a distraction.”

“I’m fine, thank you,” you said, your tone dismissive. But he didn’t take the hint.

“Come on,” he said, his smile widening. “Let me buy you a drink. It’s a party, isn’t it?”

You hesitated, glancing back at the dance floor. Bruce and Charlotte were still dancing, though his attention seemed to be anywhere but on his partner. The man beside you followed your gaze, his smile turning sly.

“Let me guess,” he said, lowering his voice conspiratorially. “Your date ditched you for someone else?”

“That’s not what happened,” you said sharply, your irritation flaring.

“Hey, no judgment,” he said, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “His loss, if you ask me.”

You frowned, debating whether to walk away, but the bartender chose that moment to appear, and the man seized the opportunity.

“Two glasses of champagne,” he said smoothly, sliding a bill across the counter.

You sighed, deciding that humoring him for a moment was the easiest way to get rid of him. “Thanks,” you said flatly as he handed you the glass.

“So, what’s your name?” he asked, leaning against the bar as he watched you.

“Not interested,” you said, your patience wearing thin.

“Come on,” he said, his smile unfaltering. “No need to play hard to get.”

Before you could respond, a familiar voice cut through the noise, low and dangerous. “She’s with me.”

Part 4: The Confrontation

You turned at the sound of Bruce’s voice, your breath catching at the sight of him. He stood a few feet away, his imposing presence enough to send a ripple through the surrounding crowd. His expression was stony, his dark eyes fixed on the man beside you with a glare that could cut steel. The easygoing charm Bruce often displayed in public was gone, replaced by a simmering intensity that made the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end.

The man beside you blinked in surprise but recovered quickly, his confidence undeterred. “Oh, I didn’t realize,” he said smoothly, though there was a slight edge to his tone. “She didn’t mention she was taken.”

Bruce’s jaw tightened, his gaze flickering to you for a brief moment before returning to the man. “She shouldn’t have to,” he said coldly. “Now, I suggest you walk away.”

The man hesitated, his eyes darting between you and Bruce. You could see the calculation in his gaze, weighing his options. Eventually, he shrugged, raising his hands in mock surrender. “Relax, man. No harm done.” He smirked at you, his tone turning smug. “Enjoy your night.”

As he walked away, Bruce stepped closer, his tall frame towering over you. His hand found your arm, his grip firm but not painful. “Are you okay?” he asked, his voice softer now but still laced with tension.

“I’m fine,” you said, though your heart was still racing. “He was just being annoying.”

Bruce’s eyes searched yours, as if trying to gauge whether you were telling the truth. Satisfied, he exhaled slowly, his shoulders relaxing slightly. But his hand remained on your arm, grounding you.

“I shouldn’t have left you alone,” he muttered, almost to himself. “That won’t happen again.”

You frowned, sensing the guilt behind his words. “Bruce, it’s not your fault. I’m not some helpless damsel. I can handle myself.”

His lips quirked up in a faint smile, but there was no humor in it. “I know you can,” he said quietly. “But I don’t like seeing other men trying to take what’s mine.”

The possessiveness in his tone made your cheeks flush, though you weren’t sure if it was from irritation or something else entirely. “I’m not a possession, Bruce,” you said, your voice firm.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” he said quickly, his brows furrowing. “I just—” He stopped himself, his jaw tightening as he struggled to find the right words. Finally, he shook his head. “Forget it.”

You sighed, your irritation fading as you saw the vulnerability beneath his carefully controlled exterior. “It’s okay,” you said gently, placing a hand on his chest. “I get it.”

He covered your hand with his, his touch warm and steady. For a moment, the rest of the room seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you. But then a voice broke the spell.

“Bruce,” Charlotte said, appearing at his side with a curious expression. “I was wondering where you ran off to.”

You stiffened, your hand dropping from Bruce’s chest as Charlotte’s sharp gaze flicked to you. She didn’t bother hiding her disdain, her red lips curving into a thin smile. “I see you found your… companion.”

“Charlotte,” Bruce said curtly, his tone clipped. “Excuse us.”

But she didn’t budge, her smile widening. “Don’t be rude, Bruce. Aren’t you going to introduce us?”

Your lips pressed into a thin line, and you glanced at Bruce, wondering how he would handle this. He hesitated for a fraction of a second before responding.

“This is Y/N,” he said, his voice steady. “She’s with me.”

The simplicity of his statement shouldn’t have affected you as much as it did, but the way he said it—firm, unwavering—sent a warmth spreading through your chest.

Charlotte raised a perfectly sculpted eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. “I see,” she said, her tone dripping with condescension. “Well, it was lovely meeting you, Y/N. Enjoy the rest of your evening.”

With that, she turned on her heel and walked away, her head held high. You exhaled quietly, relieved to see her go.

“Sorry about that,” Bruce said, his hand finding the small of your back once more. “She’s… persistent.”

“You don’t say,” you replied dryly, earning a faint smirk from him.

Part 5: The Dance Floor

“Come on,” Bruce said suddenly, taking your hand. “Let’s dance.”

You blinked up at him in surprise. “You hate dancing.”

“I’ll make an exception,” he said, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Before you could protest, he was leading you onto the dance floor. The orchestra was playing a slow, romantic melody, and couples swayed gracefully around you. Bruce pulled you close, his hand settling on your waist while the other clasped yours.

“You didn’t have to do this,” you said softly, feeling self-conscious under his intense gaze.

“Yes, I did,” he replied, his voice low. “I needed to remind everyone who you’re here with.”

You rolled your eyes, though you couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at your lips. “You’re impossible.”

His lips quirked up in response. “And yet, here you are.”

The two of you moved in sync, his steps smooth and confident despite his earlier claim of hating to dance. His grip on you was firm but gentle, and you felt yourself relax in his arms. For a moment, it felt like you were the only two people in the room.

“Y/N,” he said quietly, breaking the silence.

“Yeah?”

His gaze softened, and his voice dropped even lower. “You’re the only one I care about in this room. You know that, right?”

The vulnerability in his tone caught you off guard, and you felt your heart swell. “I know,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “And I feel the same way.”

His grip on your waist tightened slightly, as if he couldn’t bear the thought of letting you go. “Good.”

Part 6: The Public Declaration

As the song came to an end, you noticed people staring—not just at you and Bruce, but at something behind you. Turning your head slightly, you saw the man from earlier standing at the edge of the dance floor, his eyes fixed on you with a look that could only be described as smug.

Bruce followed your gaze, and his expression darkened instantly. Without a word, he released your hand and strode toward the man, his movements deliberate and controlled.

“Bruce,” you called after him, but he didn’t stop.

The man noticed Bruce approaching and raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “Can I help you?” he asked, his tone dripping with mock innocence.

“You’re done here,” Bruce said coldly, his voice low enough that only those nearby could hear.

The man smirked, clearly enjoying the challenge. “Relax, Wayne. It’s a free country. I’m just having a good time.”

Bruce’s jaw tightened, and for a moment, you thought he might throw a punch. But instead, he turned back to you, his dark eyes burning with determination. He crossed the distance between you in three long strides, and before you could say a word, he cupped your face in his hands and kissed you.

The kiss was intense, possessive, and left no room for doubt. You felt the heat of his lips, the press of his body against yours, and the undeniable message he was sending to everyone in the room. When he finally pulled back, the room was silent, all eyes on the two of you.

“She’s mine,” Bruce said firmly, his voice carrying across the room. “And that’s not going to change.”

Your cheeks flushed, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. In that moment, nothing else mattered but him.

Part 7: The Aftermath

A stunned silence hung over the ballroom. The weight of Bruce’s words—and his public display of affection—seemed to freeze everyone in place. You could feel dozens of eyes on you, whispers beginning to ripple through the crowd like an electric current.

Bruce, however, seemed entirely unbothered. His hand found yours again, his grip firm and possessive as he led you off the dance floor without a second glance at the stunned onlookers. The man who had been hitting on you earlier had disappeared, likely realizing there was no room for negotiation.

“Bruce,” you hissed under your breath, your heart still racing. “What was that?”

He didn’t answer until you were out of earshot of most of the crowd, pulling you into a quieter corner near the tall, gilded windows that overlooked Gotham’s skyline. Even then, his gaze remained fixed on you, dark and intense.

“What was what?” he asked, his voice deceptively calm.

“You know what I mean,” you shot back, gesturing toward the dance floor. “That kiss! The whole ‘she’s mine’ thing! Everyone saw.”

“Good,” he said, his tone leaving no room for argument. “Let them see.”

You stared at him, equal parts exasperated and flustered. “Bruce, you don’t have to prove anything to anyone. I wasn’t going anywhere.”

He stepped closer, his broad shoulders blocking out the rest of the room. “It’s not about proving anything,” he said quietly, his voice carrying a dangerous edge. “It’s about making it clear. I won’t have anyone thinking they can come between us. Not him, not Charlotte, not anyone.”

You searched his face, trying to read the emotions swirling beneath his carefully controlled exterior. There was jealousy there, yes, but also something deeper—fear, perhaps? The idea that he could lose you seemed to unnerve him more than he was willing to admit.

“You didn’t have to do all that,” you said softly, your tone gentler now. “I already chose you, Bruce. I always will.”

His expression softened slightly, though the tension in his jaw remained. “You don’t understand,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’ve lost too many people I care about. I can’t lose you, too.”

Your chest tightened at the raw vulnerability in his words. You reached up to cup his face, your fingers brushing against the faint stubble on his jaw. “You’re not going to lose me,” you said firmly. “But you have to trust me, Bruce. I can handle myself.”

He leaned into your touch, his eyes closing briefly as if drawing strength from you. “I do trust you,” he murmured. “It’s everyone else I don’t trust.”

You smiled faintly, your thumb brushing against his cheek. “I noticed.”

Part 8: The Gossip and the Retreat

Before Bruce could respond, a familiar figure approached—the head of the Wayne Foundation, a sharp-eyed woman named Evelyn who always seemed to be juggling a thousand tasks at once. Her expression was carefully neutral, though you could see the curiosity lurking behind her professional demeanor.

“Mr. Wayne,” she said politely, her gaze flicking to you for a brief moment before returning to him. “I hate to interrupt, but the press is starting to ask questions.”

Bruce straightened, his businesslike mask sliding into place with practiced ease. “Let them ask,” he said coolly. “They’ll get the same answer as everyone else.”

Evelyn raised an eyebrow but didn’t push further. “Understood. Shall I handle the follow-up?”

Bruce nodded. “Yes. Make it clear this isn’t up for discussion.”

“Of course,” Evelyn said smoothly before turning to leave, her heels clicking against the polished floor.

You exhaled, glancing around the room. The whispers hadn’t stopped, and you could feel the weight of countless stares on your back. “We’re going to be the talk of Gotham by morning,” you muttered.

Bruce’s lips twitched into a faint smirk. “Let them talk.”

“You’re impossible,” you said, shaking your head.

“And yet, here you are,” he said, echoing your earlier words with a glimmer of amusement in his eyes.

You couldn’t help but laugh, the tension between you easing slightly. “Let’s get out of here,” you said. “I’ve had enough of being a spectacle for one night.”

Bruce didn’t hesitate. “Let’s go.”

Part 9: The Car Ride

The car ride back to Wayne Manor was quiet, the hum of the engine and the soft rustle of the city outside the only sounds. You sat beside Bruce in the backseat, the close confines of the car making his presence feel even more intense. He hadn’t let go of your hand since you left the gala, his thumb tracing absent circles on your skin.

“Are you mad?” he asked suddenly, breaking the silence.

You turned to him, startled by the question. “What?”

“About what I did back there,” he clarified, his tone unusually uncertain. “If I embarrassed you—”

“You didn’t embarrass me,” you said quickly, cutting him off. “I was surprised, sure, but… I wasn’t mad.”

He studied you for a moment, his expression unreadable. “Good.”

“Bruce,” you said softly, leaning closer. “You don��t have to be so afraid of losing me. I’m not going anywhere. You know that, right?”

His grip on your hand tightened slightly. “It’s hard for me to believe that sometimes,” he admitted, his voice quiet. “When you care about someone, it feels like you’re just waiting for the moment they’ll be taken away.”

Your heart ached at the pain in his voice. You knew he wasn’t just talking about you—he was thinking about his parents, about everyone he’d lost over the years. You reached up to touch his face, your thumb brushing against his cheek.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you repeated firmly. “You don’t have to do this alone anymore, Bruce. I’m here, and I’m staying.”

For a long moment, he didn’t respond, his dark eyes searching yours. Then, without warning, he pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly against him. You could feel the tension in his body slowly ebbing away as he buried his face in your hair.

“I don’t deserve you,” he murmured, his voice barely audible.

“You deserve more than you think,” you whispered back, your arms wrapping around him.

The car pulled up to Wayne Manor, but neither of you moved to get out right away. For the first time that night, the world outside felt distant and unimportant. All that mattered was the two of you, together in the quiet of the moment.

Part 10: Arrival at Wayne Manor

The grand gates of Wayne Manor opened slowly, the sleek black car gliding up the winding driveway. The tension from the night had eased, but there was still a quiet intensity in the air between you and Bruce. He held the door open for you as you stepped out, his hand lightly resting on your lower back as he guided you inside.

Alfred was waiting in the foyer, his ever-composed expression giving way to a subtle smirk as he took in your intertwined hands. “Ah, Master Wayne, Miss Y/N,” he greeted warmly. “I trust the gala was… eventful?”

Bruce’s jaw tightened, but you beat him to it, flashing Alfred a weary smile. “You could say that,” you said, shrugging off your coat. “Let’s just say we made a bit of an impression.”

Alfred’s gaze flicked to Bruce, his eyes twinkling with quiet amusement. “I take it the city’s socialites will have plenty to discuss over breakfast tomorrow?”

Bruce grunted noncommittally, steering you toward the living room. “Good night, Alfred.”

“Good night, sir. Miss Y/N.” Alfred’s voice carried the faintest hint of teasing as he disappeared down the hall.

Part 11: Unspoken Tensions

You sank onto the plush sofa, kicking off your heels and leaning back with a sigh. Bruce stood nearby, his arms crossed as he watched you. His tuxedo jacket was gone, the first few buttons of his dress shirt undone, making him look less like Gotham’s billionaire playboy and more like the man you knew beneath the mask.

“You’re still brooding,” you pointed out, breaking the silence.

“I don’t brood,” he said automatically, but the slight narrowing of his eyes betrayed him.

You arched an eyebrow. “You’re practically radiating brood, Bruce.”

His lips twitched, but he didn’t quite smile. Instead, he moved to sit beside you, his gaze searching your face. “Did I cross a line tonight?” he asked quietly.

You tilted your head, studying him. “Why are you so worried about that?”

“Because I don’t want to push you away,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “I—” He paused, his hands flexing in his lap as if he wasn’t used to saying these kinds of things. “I don’t always know where the line is with you. I’m not used to… this.”

Your expression softened, and you reached for his hand, intertwining your fingers. “Bruce,” you said gently, “you didn’t cross a line. I was surprised, sure, but not upset. I know why you did it.”

His eyes darkened. “That doesn’t make it right.”

You sighed, shifting closer. “Look, I get it. You’ve been through so much, and I know it’s hard for you to let people in. But you don’t have to protect me from everything, Bruce. I’m not going to disappear because of some overconfident guy at a gala.”

He didn’t respond immediately, his gaze fixed on your joined hands. Finally, he said, “You’re the first person who’s ever made me feel like this.”

“Like what?” you prompted, your heart thudding in your chest.

“Like I can breathe,” he said simply. “Like I’m not alone.”

The raw honesty in his words took your breath away. You leaned in, cupping his face in your hands. “You’re not alone,” you said firmly. “Not anymore.”

Part 12: The Kiss Revisited

Bruce’s eyes flicked to your lips, and for a moment, neither of you moved. Then he closed the distance between you, his mouth capturing yours in a kiss that was both tender and possessive. It wasn’t like the kiss at the gala, which had been about making a statement. This was different—deeper, slower, and meant only for you.

His hands found your waist, pulling you closer until you were practically in his lap. You could feel the tension in his body, the restrained intensity that always simmered beneath the surface. But there was something else, too—a vulnerability that he rarely let anyone see.

When you finally pulled back, your foreheads resting together, you couldn’t help but smile. “You’re really bad at subtlety, you know that?”

Bruce chuckled softly, a rare sound that made your heart flutter. “I never claimed to be subtle.”

“No kidding,” you teased, your fingers tracing the line of his jaw. “But I guess I like that about you.”

“Good,” he said, his voice low and rough. “Because I don’t plan on changing.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t hide your grin. “You’re impossible.”

“And yet, here you are,” he murmured, echoing your earlier words with a smirk.

Part 13: A Quiet Moment

The two of you stayed like that for a while, wrapped up in each other as the events of the night faded into the background. The crackling fireplace cast a warm glow over the room, and for the first time that evening, you felt completely at ease.

Part 13: A Quiet Moment (Continued)

Bruce’s arms tightened around you, his chin resting on top of your head. “You know I’d do anything to keep you safe,” he said quietly.

“I know,” you replied, your voice soft. “But you don’t have to carry that weight alone. You’re allowed to lean on me too, Bruce.”

He was silent for a moment, as though letting your words sink in. “I’m not used to that,” he admitted. “Depending on someone else.”

You tilted your head to look up at him, your fingers tracing gentle patterns on his chest. “Well, it’s a good thing I’m stubborn,” you said with a small smile. “Because I’m not going anywhere, no matter how hard you try to scare me off.”

A ghost of a smile tugged at the corner of his lips. “I wasn’t trying to scare you.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” you teased lightly, your tone taking the sting out of the words. “But seriously, Bruce. I know you’ve lost a lot. And I know that makes it hard for you to believe that someone might actually stay. But you don’t have to fight so hard to protect me from everything. I’m stronger than I look.”

“I know you are,” he said, his voice full of conviction. “That’s one of the things I admire most about you.”

You blinked, surprised by the rare compliment. “Bruce Wayne, are you getting sentimental on me?”

He chuckled softly, his fingers brushing against your cheek. “Don’t get used to it.”

“Too late,” you said with a grin, leaning up to kiss him again.

Part 14: The Morning After

The next morning, you woke to the soft light of dawn streaming through the floor-to-ceiling windows of Bruce’s bedroom. You stretched lazily, the events of the previous night coming back to you in a rush. The gala, the drama, Bruce’s possessiveness—it all felt like something out of a dream.

You turned to find him already awake, sitting on the edge of the bed with his back to you. He was shirtless, his broad shoulders bathed in the golden morning light. He seemed lost in thought, his gaze fixed on the distant skyline.

“Good morning,” you said, your voice still heavy with sleep.

He turned at the sound of your voice, his expression softening. “Good morning.”

“You’re up early,” you noted, propping yourself up on one elbow. “Couldn’t sleep?”

He shook his head slightly. “Too much on my mind.”

You scooted closer, wrapping your arms around him from behind and resting your chin on his shoulder. “Want to talk about it?”

He hesitated, his jaw tightening briefly before he spoke. “The way I acted last night… it’s been bothering me.”

You frowned, your arms tightening around him. “Bruce, we’ve already talked about this. I wasn’t upset.”

“I know,” he said quietly. “But I can’t stop thinking about how I handled it. I let my emotions get the better of me.”

You pressed a kiss to his shoulder, your lips lingering against his warm skin. “You’re allowed to feel things, Bruce. You’re not a machine.”

He sighed, his hand covering yours where it rested against his chest. “I just don’t want you to think that I don’t trust you. Because I do.”

“I know you do,” you said gently. “And I trust you too. But we’re going to have to work on this together. You can’t keep trying to shield me from everything.”

He turned slightly, his dark eyes meeting yours. “I’m not used to having someone like you in my life,” he admitted. “Someone I care about this much.”

Your heart ached at the vulnerability in his words. You reached up to cup his face, your thumb brushing against his cheek. “You’re not alone anymore, Bruce,” you said softly. “You don’t have to do everything by yourself.”

He leaned into your touch, his eyes closing briefly. “You make it sound so easy.”

“It’s not,” you admitted with a small smile. “But it’s worth it.”

Part 15: Moving Forward

The two of you spent the rest of the morning in quiet companionship, the heavy emotions of the night before slowly giving way to something lighter. Bruce seemed more at ease, his usual guarded demeanor softening in your presence.

Over breakfast, Alfred couldn’t resist making a few dry remarks about the spectacle at the gala, but even he seemed pleased to see Bruce in better spirits.

“You know, sir,” Alfred said as he cleared the dishes, “it’s not every day you publicly declare your affection for someone in front of half of Gotham’s elite. Quite the statement.”

Bruce shot him a withering look, but you just laughed. “I think the headlines are going to have a field day with it.”

“Let them,” Bruce said, his tone resolute. “I don’t care what they say, as long as you know how I feel.”

Your heart swelled at his words, and you reached across the table to take his hand. “I do,” you said softly. “And I feel the same way.”

For the first time, Bruce smiled—a real, genuine smile that lit up his usually stoic face. It was a rare sight, but one that you cherished deeply.

As the day went on, you found yourselves falling into an easy rhythm. Bruce still had his walls, his brooding tendencies, and his fierce protectiveness, but there was a newfound openness in him that gave you hope for the future.

You knew it wouldn’t always be easy. There would be challenges, misunderstandings, and moments of doubt. But as you stood by his side, you couldn’t help but feel that together, you could face anything.

After all, Bruce Wayne wasn’t just the man you loved—he was your partner, your equal, and the person who made you feel like you could take on the world.

And you knew, without a doubt, that he felt the same way about you.

A/N - sorry this was ass guys 😢

#dc #dc comics #bruce wayne #bruce wayne x reader #batman #batman x reader #fluff

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arilevenatz · 2 days ago

Text

Chasing Shadows - TEASER

Pairing: popular guy!yeosang x chubby!fem!reader

Genre: Angst (?), fluff

Word count: 582

Warnings: kinda frat boy yeosang, him and his friends are handsome (yes that's a warning), reader has anxiety, she is also insecure, anxiety attacks, yeo is cheeky, like really cheeky, you might wanna flick him a bit, bestfriend! San and wooyoung, there are prob gonna be more

AN: y'all bear with me this is my first time posting on Tumblr, I'm still figuring out stuff. I had a dream about this and I decided that I'm gonna write a yeo fic. And also if you wanna get tagged, you can give your @ in the comments I'll tag y'all. And also please reblog and like, so I can get more motivated!!

"stop mocking me. I know people like you. you guys go up to girls like me and say you like them only to say 'April fools' or say 'its a dare' later. I hate guys like you"

His grin fades, his expression turning serious, but his eyes still hold a glint of mischief. "You really think that's what I'm doing?" He tilts his head to the side, studying your face intently. He maintains eye contact, his expression unreadable. He sees the suspicion in your eyes, and it only seems to fuel his mischievous glint. He leans forward, his voice lowering. "Let me ask you something..." He studies your face intently, a slight smirk playing on his lips. "First off... do I look like I have a problem finding girls to talk to?" He gestures to himself, a hint of pride in his tone. "And second..." His voice drops lower as he deliberately maintains eye contact. "Second what?" You shout.

He leans in closer, and says "Second, would I really waste my time pretending to like someone just to play an April Fool's prank?" His words send a shiver down your spine as he pulls back, his eyes never leaving yours. "Or maybe..." He looks at you with a half-smirk, half-serious expression "You're actually quite... interesting. Not many people stand up to me like you do." His eyes crinkle again as he studies your reaction "And hey..." He reaches over and lightly taps your finger. You retreat your hand from his touch. His expression shifts to a playful pout, though his eyes still hold a glint of amusement "Wow, so I'm not even worthy of a tiny hand tap?" He leans back in his chair, studying your defensive posture with interest "You're not scared of me, are you?" He chuckles low in his throat, his gaze never leaving yours. "listen, can I not just like you? I like you. I want to be with you"

"No! people don't simply like girls like me" you felt like crying, but you can't. His expression turns mockingly serious, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Oh, so you're saying you're not likeable? You think I can't like you because you're... what?" He crosses his arms, leaning forward again, his curiosity piqued.

"You know what I am"

"No I don't"

"Fuck. Fine! Im fat and ugly"

His face freezes and for a moment, he looks genuinely shocked. But then, he lets out a harsh laugh. "Fat and ugly? He shakes his head, his gaze raking over your form appraisingly. "You really think that's what I see when I look at you?"

"You don't need to look at me like that, I am like that so fuck off I don't need you laughing at my face."

You stand up harshly, take your bag and walk outside the library. He follows you and grabs your upper arm, not harshly but firmly enough to hold your attention. "Listen carefully..." His voice softens, losing its usual mocking tone. "I'm not some creep who goes around lying to get in girls' pants." You open your mouth to say something but he quickly shits you off. "You know what I see when I look at you? I see someone who's honest, even if it hurts. I see someone who's strong, even when they feel weak. And I see someone who's fucking beautiful, inside and out."

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ssentimentals · 2 days ago

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hihi love!! i’m so obsessed w your work 😭😭 you just do such a good job writing ajdhjshdhw 🥺🩷🩷

could i request hurt prompt 35 w woozi pls? a happy ending would be nice but it doesn’t have to be!! tysm love🥹🩷

- 🫧

hihi babie!! omg this is so nice?? thank you so much for being this kind!! hopefully you will like your request 💜

hurt prompt: 'i'm not sure how many coffees it takes for me to be happy, but so far, it's not twelve.'

'i feel like i should be happy and excited for the festive season but i just can't.' you mutter, adjusting your earphones. 'it's just been so shitty at work lately, you know? i don't have it in me to actually feel anything.'

your best friend lets you let it all out. she lets you go on and on about the work, your rant ending only when you come closer to your house. you also wanted to discuss jihoon with her, but that is going to wait for another time then. hanging you up, you sigh, slowing your stride. everything's been shitty lately not only at work; your relationship with jihoon started to crack as well. it's not very obvious, but the breach was formed and you feel like you both are just drifting further and further apart each day. coming home used to be the best part of your day, but now it's ad dreadful as going to work and it's just- sad. sadder than that is only your complete lack of any desire to do anything about it.

'welcome home,' jihoon greets, when you come in. he notices slight frown at your forehead and cautiously asks: 'is everything okay?'

'mhm.' you try to smile, but it comes off more as a grimace. 'how are you? have you already eaten? if yes i can just-'

'no,' jihoon interrupts. 'i waited for you.'

you blink. that is... new. you both didn't wait for each other last two months. your heart skips a beat at this, small flicker of hope reignites in your chest. this time you smile for real: 'oh, thank you. can you heat it up then? warm food will make me very happy now.'

jihoon smiles. 'i thought coffee makes you happy?'

'not right now. 'i'm not sure how many coffees it takes for me to be happy, but so far, it's not twelve.'

you quickly change and come back to the kitchen right at the time of jihoon setting up the table. you both work in silence; you feel tongue-tied, not knowing what to say and how to ask simple things. when it became so awkward to just be with jihoon? you eat in silence too, or more like you both push your food around the plate, not looking up at each other. it's incredibly tense and you're surprised that jihoon is the one who snaps first with a humourless chuckle: 'this is not working, is it?'

you can argue, of course. you can remind him that it's not working because of him. you can start fighting again. instead, you agree. 'yeah, it's.. not.'

jihoon nods. he's staring at his plate intently like leftover meatballs have answers to his question. when he looks up, his gaze is filled with hesitance and hope: 'do you want it? to work?'. he licks his lips, quickly adding: 'because i do. i just- past few months were hard. i sucked, i know. but like, i- i want this. to work. do you?'

crying with meatballs in your mouth is really not the best thing you can do, but you can't stop tears from falling down. swallowing without chewing and choking on the food, you quickly down your glass of water and let out sincere: 'i do. i'm sorry, i sucked too.'

jihoon nods. he looks like he wants to laugh at your red face from choking, but he wisely holds himself back. 'okay. then,' he takes a deep breath, 'we will finish this now and go to bed and talk about it.'

you nod. 'we can come up for something to get us into holiday mood?' you suggest hesitantly.

jihoon brightens up at this. 'yeah, sounds good.'

you both smile at each other and hope inside your chest flickers stronger than before. jihoon reaches out across the table and takes your hand in his. flicker of hope turns into a burning fire.

a/n: request your own here! <3 - nini

#seventeen imagine #seventeen reaction #seventeen x reader #lee jihoon #seventeen woozi #woozi x reader #woozi imagines #woozi fluff #seventeen woozi x reader #seventeen woozi imagines #svt x reader #svt woozi #lee jihoon x reader #lee jihoon imagines #seventeen prompt #svt lee jihoon #svt woozi x reader #svt woozi imagines

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unfriendlies · 1 day ago

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even though the two of them fought, garam still trusted himself in the man's hands. he was positive the other wouldn't do anything to intentionally hurt him, at least physically. "you wouldn't drop me," he replied confidently. when angel retorted on his towel dropping, garam getting to see that something he'd like, his body stiffened, his grip on angel's hand tightening for a moment, but he hadn't let it stop him from pulling the other to his room. "maybe i'd like that," he mumbled even though he knew he shouldn't have said something. garam watched as angel pulled the blankets back for him, his posture relaxing as his head tilted to the side. he knew angel was only being so nice right now because garam was drunk, he was sure there was at least an inkling inside of him that wanted to yell at him or something akin to, but the fact that he could be holding anything negative he felt back made garam feel warm inside. he pushed aside how he was feeling to take care of garam, how was he supposed to still be angry with angel when he took care of him so well. he crawled into the man's bed, only going as far as to tuck his legs under the blanket until angel had left to get dressed, himself. while angel was in the bathroom, garam ended up climbing out of the man's bed so he could take his jeans off. he would have taken his shirt off as well and just slept in his underwear but he was afraid of seeing angel's expression upon seeing the fading bruises on his abdomen. once the other man reappeared, garam pushed himself up onto his elbows, his eyes not leaving angel as he approached. garam sat up and turned so he could look down to angel, his brows pulling together as he let out a soft sigh. even though angel wanted to talk later on, when they were both sober, garam just couldn't stop himself from speaking anyways. he needed to apologize, he couldn't have angel going to bed thinking garam was mad or upset with him. the smaller man pouted a bit exaggeratedly, grumbling in distress as he shook his head. "i'm sorry i yelled at you... and for the things i said. i'm not mad at you, i really don't blame you for anything. you've always had the best of intentions and-and you always look out for me, you take care of me, and i know it's not just because you're into me but because you are a good person and you care about my wellbeing. you saw what i chose to ignore, i probably would have died by his hands if you hadn't made the sacrifice you had." he looked so pathetic, like he was on the verge of crying while he apologized. if he was going to be completely honest, fighting, not being on good terms with angel was tearing him up inside. that's why he drank as much as he did, so he wouldn't have to feel how horrible he did for yelling and saying things he shouldn't have said. "when i'm ready for another relationship, i want it to be you. and when you're ready," his expression had shifted when he paused, showing more of a devious smile now as he moved his hand to angel's stomach, letting his fingers take small steps upward, "i'm going to let you do whatever you want to me." garam spoke slowly as if he were trying to ensure his words were clear, letting his expression now reflect his lack of sobriety; his smile stretching ear to ear, his eyes narrowing and his nose scrunching up as he giggled softly. his intention was to fluster angel just as much as seeing the man's bare and damp body flustered him. it seemed, though, that his effort had the exact opposite effect as he found himself getting flustered at the mere idea of hooking up with angel. his grin disappeared in an instant, the red of his already flushed cheeks deepening. garam let himself fall back down to the bed, though he was quick to pull the blanket up over his head to hide himself from the embarrassment he caused himself, groaning quietly. he wasn't sure if he would come to regret his words when he sobered up, all he knew was that he was too embarrassed to show his face to angel right in that moment.

Was anger even a factor anymore? Angel couldn't decide. Before his best friend walked out the door he felt nothing but hurt and turmoil. Now, when he opened the door and saw Garam standing there looking so damn cute he could barely think straight. Having Axel try to attack him truly put into perspective what Garam was possibly going through behind closed doors. Angel was still dealing with what was said to him. But anger wasn't present. “I can take you to bed like this? Do you hear yourself sometimes” Angel let out a laugh as he followed Garam to his bedroom. “We had a pretty big fight. Did you really want me to carry you?” If the other wasn't drunk he might have given in to his urges. However, he had held on for many years. Priding himself on his self-control. He wasn't about to give up that streek so easily. As he followed the man to his room he kicked himself for not taking down all the random towels and blankets he had scattered around covering the mirrors. He mentally prayed Garam was too inebriated to focus on details. “Don't you want my towel to drop? Maybe see something else you like” Angel teased knowing that would stop the man's giggling. As they entered the room the taller man led him to the bed and pulled back the covers for his best friend. “Get in bed. I'm going to get dressed but I should dry off some.” Angel backed away toward his draws picking through them. He finally settled on his usual shorts and a t-shirt before disappearing into the bathroom. He took his time drying off trying to remember to carry Garam to his bed the other night. Wondering what he was thinking. Knowing he would never do something so bold sober. Chuckling to himself the man finally got dressed and came out of the bathroom. As he laid eyes on his best friend he was grateful the man came home. Before the other’s ex showed up he didn't think he would get sleep not knowing where Garam was. But he wouldn't dare text to ask. His eyes softened as he walked over to the bed and climbed in. For tonight he needed to let go of their argument and enjoy drunk Garam. He was always cute, but when he got drunk like this it was hard to be upset with him. “We can talk in the morning. I'll make breakfast, alright?”

#threads #thread: min garam #garam & angel #ang3lmoan

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completeoveranalysis · 2 days ago

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[6]

SCREAMING FOREVER OK EVERYONE SIT DOWN

Since the literal beginning of all this the big hanging question behind Clow Reed has always been, “Is this the same one or a different one?”

And under that question came infinite other questions such as, “How could this be the same one if he died ages ago?” and “Is this an Alternate Universe Clow Reed- oh god how many Clow Reeds could there possibly be?!”, and even “Is this a Clow Reed Clone? Or was the CCS Clow Reed a clone all along?!?!” and on and on into forever.

ENTER: THE MOST SIMPLE ANSWER OF ALL.

IT’S JUST THE SAME GUY.

THIS WAS THE CLOW REED FROM CARDCAPTOR SAKURA ALL ALONG.

And I’m just LOSING MY MIND because that means a huge part of Cardcaptor Sakura is centered on a lie.

Or like, not REALLY a lie. It’s still true that he's dead. But Clow Reed lied to everyone he left behind, and those are all the people we get our answers from in that series. He told them he was going to die and they believed him.

I suppose he could have phrased it ambiguously? But if he DID it was with the intent that they thought he was dead, because that's what they think. He told them that on purpose.

AM I GOING TO GO DOWNSTAIRS AND FACT CHECK WITH CARDCAPTOR SAKURA? ... YES. OK.

OK OK OK OK HERE WE GO KERO SAYS THEY SAW HIM DIE. There we go, 100% he lied to them and even made it look convincing.

WAIT HAVE YOU READ CARDCAPTOR SAKURA? DON’T WORRY LET ME TELL YOU EVERYTHING YOU NEED TO KNOW. (But if you don’t want spoilers for everything before Clear Card just skip the rest of this post).

So the ENTIRE narrative of Cardcaptor Sakura centres on the fact that Clow Reed is dead. He died and left Yue and Keroberos in charge of the Clow Cards and their legacy. (Which is what is being depicted in the Top Left of this page. It's the conversation Clow had with Kero and Yue when he suddenly announced it to them). He died and left a family legacy for Syaoran to eventually inherit - however distantly, we don’t actually know. He died and had foreseen Cardcaptor Sakura, and left gifts and hints for her to continue his legacy and eclipse it. He died and his magic as a power source was dying all these years later, which was why she had to convert the cards, to save them, and Kero, and Yue.

EXCEPT, HE DIDN’T DIE.

Or at least, he didn’t die right away. He told Yue and Kero that he was going to die (and made them think they SAW it) and then FUCKED OFF to the Clow Kingdom to live there happily and raise Sakura and Touya there.

WHICH. I am hung up on because that means in Clow's original reality, which is essentially our world, he had foreseen his death and that Cardcaptor Sakura was going to become his successor - and then, I guess, found out about the big Time Reset Wish that Evil Wolverine did for Lava Lamp, which trapped an alternate version "Sakura" in a Frozen bubble of time that would leave a new 'cloned' copy of her in the new version of the timeline. But that means Clow also would have had a vision of what happens to this new version of the Alternate Sakura, and the huge fate that lay ahead of her, and also that she did not have parents anymore, and so he was like, "AH YES A JOB FOR ME? Let me just tell everyone who loves me that I’m dead and slip over there for like ten years and ride that out."

But not only that but CLOW REED IS IN CARDCAPTOR SAKURA TOO. HE IS THERE. HE IS ERIOL AND HE IS FUJITAKA. HE SPLIT HIMSELF INTO THE TWO OF THEM.

Which means that he, like, told Yue and Kero that he died, went to the Clow Kingdom, lived that out, then told THEM that he died too, then went back to his original reality and Split Himself into two new people. Which counts as “death”, TECHNICALLY, sure. There is no more ‘Clow Reed’. He is not a singular living person anymore. But he didn’t “die” in the way that his family in Cardcaptor Sakura AND Tsubasa thought. Though it amounts to the same thing.

EXCEPT - there is Eriol. Eriol inherited Clow Reed’s memories. So HE KNEW ALL THIS. HE KNEW THE WHOLE TIME.

HE TECHNICALLY IS OFF IN CARDCAPTOR SAKURA DOING HIGH SCHOOL SHENANIGANS WITH THE FULL KNOWLEDGE THAT HIS DAUGHTER (SAKURA CLONE) IS OFF DYING FOR THE UNIVERSE AND TRYING DESPERATELY TO SAVE IT FROM EVIL WOLVERINE. WHILE HE’S SITTING ACROSS FROM YAMAZAKI AND MAKING STUPID JOKES.

Though like, full disclaimer, I don’t actually mean it was at the same time. Because (a) time runs differently on different worlds, and (b) we are very lucky that’s true because otherwise it becomes a headache trying to piece it all together, but also (c ) Time travel, so we don’t even need to worry about it. I was at the end of writing another huge paragraph trying to put the events all in order but DONT WORRY ABOUT IT. TIME TRAVEL EXISTS. It all becomes circles in the end anyway.

So like, don’t worry about it. :) Time Travel.

The more fun thing is that Fujitaka technically existed as his own separate person in the Clow Kingdom FIRST, with Nadeshiko. Until time reordered events and Clow Reed jumped in to be Sakura’s new dad, before going back home and splitting himself into two people - one of which is the Fujitaka from Cardcaptor Sakura. Like. How does that work on a personal level. Did Clow Reed choose to let part of himself become the guy he replaced, or was he always kind of an Alternate version of him to begin with.

And then THAT Fujitaka meets the alternate Nadeshiko and they fall in love all over again. Which is also fun because it means that THAT Nadeshiko existed in this universe without a Fujitaka in it, Until Clow Reed came back split himself INTO the guy he went over there to replace, and BECAME the guy she was destined to fall in love with, even though he didn’t technically exist at all before that point.

VERY HITSUZEN OF IT ALL.

#I think that’s all the thoughts I have for now?#Except I CANT BELIEVE ERIOL KNEW THIS #HE KNEW ABOUT TSUBASA THE WHOLE TIME #Thank you yes I was looking for a reason to reread CCS #Liveblogging the reservoir chronicle #Tsubasa #Vol 220 #CLOW REED #CLOW REEEEED #CLOW REED MATHS #My goodness I can’t believe this has happened

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saioratral · 2 days ago

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PARING: william james moriarty x f!reader

PROMPT: believe me SYNOPSIS: would removing nobles be an excuse for killing? even if the intention was good?

WARNING: none NOTE: obsessed with jang wonyoung these days so im using her as the pictures. i saw this in my drafts for a long time so here ya go :D i wrote this feeling a little down from stuff going on at home so this was a great distraction. enjoy!

william was a dedicated man to you, the perfect man. he had no flaw and in your eyes, he was the one you thought you would spend your life with. you first met him at your university job, where he was a respected professor. his charm and intelligence quickly drew you in, as they did with everyone else. who could resist?

he was striking, with blonde hair that caught the eye, almost as if it demanded attention. yet, it wasn’t just his looks that captivated you- it was his humbleness and the genuine care with which he spoke to everyone around him. he made you feel seen, heard, and special

to call yourself lucky to marry him was an understatement. you were now like a princess in the moriarty mansion, the others being your guards. your prince was yours, and yours alone. every day felt like a dream, one you were grateful to live. but those dreams now chase you, like a monster ready to consume you into a world you could not recognise

“how could you do this to me, william?” you screamed, your voice filled with betrayal. “all these years together… for nothing?”

“if you just let me explain-”

“there’s nothing to explain!” you raised your voice, your eyes welling with tears. “i can’t believe i’m carrying your child… you monster!”

“i did it for the good of this country,” william insisted, trying to reason with you. “you have to believe me, my dear”

you stared at him in disbelief. “good? there are other ways to do good! killing nobles isn’t one of them. you’re no better than a criminal. how can you decide on who dies?”

william looked down, the weight of your accusation hanging heavily on him. his intentions were good, you know but his way of doing it was wrong. how was he different from the others then? in their eyes, they were only doing good- the same as the man you loved

“how could you?” you muttered, your voice breaking

“dear…” william trailed off, hesitant to approach

“don’t call me that!” you scrunch your face in disgust. “it sounds horrible when you say it”

“this dress you gave me.. it’s also given by your tainted hands right? all the noblemen, all their blood is in your hands”, you shout walking closer to him

william stands there, his gaze falling to the pink dress you wore today. the puff sleeves with the pearl necklace, you were a picture of beauty, even as you walked closer, every heel tap filled with anger. you jabbed your finger into his chest, right where his heart beat

“wash your hands all you want,” you continued. “but that blood will never come off. you’ve tainted yourself”

“i know,” william finally spoke, his voice low. “i know i’ve done wrong. i can’t turn back time. but if you just listen-”

“listen?” you interrupted. “how could you keep something this big from me? how could you lie to me for so long?”

you hated him now, every fiber of him. “am i not trustworthy? you broke our promise to always be honest with each other”

“i had no choice,” william responded, his voice strained as he took a step back.

“it was for your sake, i did not want to stress you my dear”, he speaks softly to you in hopes you hear him

“just answer me one thing”, you look at him sadly. “did you kill anyone? with your own hands”

“wouldn’t you like to know?”, william replies

“i would, but i don't in the same time”

he looked at you, pain and regret in his eyes, but his words remained empty. you looked down at the wedding ring on your finger, it must have been tainted by their blood too. slowly, you slipped it off and threw it to the ground

william was no longer the man you had married. he was a stranger- a monster in your eyes

you turned to leave, but then the sharp pain hit your chest. time stopped, your mouth wide open from the shock. you gasped, clutching the wound as you leaned against the dresser for support. your vision blurred as you looked at william, your voice trembling, “why aren’t you helping me?”

he didn’t move. he didn’t offer comfort or reach out to touch you at all. he just stood there, staring, his gaze drifting to the window. the curtains had been drawn- when had that happened? you both never leave the curtains open

“moran has a good aim, doesn’t he?”, william said

it was all staged… everything had been planned. you should have expected that

your pink dress absorbed the red blood oozing from your wound, before you felt another sting on your leg. you fall on the ground, the dresser’s drawers being your support. you look to william, hazy vision seeing him crouch down

“my child will not be taken from me,” he said softly. “why don’t you just take a little nap, dear? you must be so tired”

© saioratral 2024-25 -- do not repost, translate, alter, etc on any platform without permission. Any characters used in my work do not belong to me, they are created by their original creator. all images are from pinterest

#moriarty the patriot #yuukoku no moriarty #moriarty the patriot x reader #william james moriarty #yuukoku no moriarty x reader #mtp x reader #mtp #william james moriarty x reader #ynm x reader #william james moriarty x you #ᡣsaioratral⋆˙୧⍤⃝

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myveryownfanfiction · 2 days ago

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Rickmas day 21: heartfelt confessions

continuation of days 8 and 17

18+ MINORS AND THOSE WITHOUT AGE IN BIO DNI

tags: @illiana-mystery, @iobsessoverfictionalmen, @deepperplexity, @smilingformoney

warnings: swearing, death, snake attack, voldemort

I paced the boathouse, waiting for Severus to arrive. Voldemort had sent word to him and left me as bait. I turned as Severus entered.

“professor?” Severus asked as he saw me, a small twitch in his fingers as he scanned the room. Voldemort emerged from the shadows and smiled at the two of us. “My lord.” He bowed his head as Voldemort came to stand in front of him.

“Severus. Thank you for joining us.” Voldemort said. “There have been some…revelations of late. One that involves our lovely charms professor here.” Severus gulped as he looked between us. “I do believe you dared to defy me, saying you’d run away to join the muggles if it meant I wouldn’t find you.” Severus didn’t move, not emotion on his face at all. I bit the inside of my cheek hard to keep my face blank. Severus glanced at me and I noted the glimmer of fear in his eyes.

“my lord…” Severus started but stopped when Voldemort held up a hand, circling him.

“I must say Severus. I never expected you to choose a pure blood. Given your status and the unfortunate choice of a bitch you originally made.” I felt the shiver go up my spine at the mention of lily. “How much do you love our little professor? Hmmm? Enough to die for them?” Severus went pale, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he glanced at me.

“Die my lord?” He asked. “I…what…are you…” I stepped forward and stood in front of Severus. His hand came out to grab my arm, push me out of the way should anything happen but I grabbed his other arm and squeezed.

“you can’t kill him!” I cried. Voldemort looked at the two of us. He laughed darkly.

“I can’t can I?” He asked. “You little bitch, I think you forget your place. Unless you want to die alongside him.” I stood to my full height and stared down the most dangerous man in all of the wizarding world.

“better to die together than live with the pain of losing a loved one.” I shot back. Severus tightened his grip, still intent on pushing me out of the way. ‘Bastard thinks he killed Harry right?’ I thought. The brief squeeze of my arm confirmed it. I took a deep breath as Voldemort raised his arm.

“then you shall die alongside him.” Voldemort warned me. I stood defiantly in front of Severus as we watched nagini come closer. I counted down in my head, pulling Severus into apparition at the last possible second. I pulled him down just outside the boathouse as Voldemort roared with anger. Nagini was hanging off his arm, body falling at the wave of energy Voldemort gave off as the horcrux in the snake died. Voldemort stumbled against the wall as the venom coursed through his body, no horcuxes left to bring him back. I breathed out and leaned my head against Severus’ chest as a tear escaped my eye.

“How did you know that would work?” He breathed out, arms wrapping around me tightly. “How did you…”

“I didn’t.” I said, looking up at him with tear filled eyes. “I just wanted this to end.” Severus cupped my cheeks and kissed me deeply.

“you brilliant idiot.” He whispered, leaning his head against mine. “You absolute brilliant nut case. I love you. So so much.” I giggled and wrapped my hands around his wrists.

“I love you too.” I breathed out before kissing him again. He hugged me to him before rising. “Is he…”

“he should be.” Severus nodded, slowly making his way into the boathouse. He kept a tight hold on my hand as I trailed behind him. “Free. Finally free.” Severus breathed out, tears of his own rolling down his cheeks. “We’re free.”

“oh Severus.” I cried as I covered my mouth. Severus swept me up, spinning me around before kissing me again.

“let’s go. Let Harry find him.” Severus breathed out. “I have a mind to apologize to Minerva and then disappear to spinners end until this all blows over.” Severus looked at me with shining eyes. “If you’ll have me.”

“I’ll always have you Severus.” I confirmed before following him back up to the castle.

#Severus snape #severus snape x reader #severus snape fanfic #Severus snape fanfiction #severus snape imagine #alan rickman #alan rickman x reader #alan rickman fanfiction #alan rickman fanfic #Alan rickman imagine #rickmas #rickmas2024

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everlastingdreams · 3 days ago

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The Weeping Monk x Fem!Reader : Forged Of Fire Chapter 24

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Story Summary: Raised under the tiranny of your own family, and forced to steal to earn your keep, you struggle to survive. Born from a Fey mother, and a Manblood father who wanted only sons, you are forced to hide your Fey side. When you are ordered to steal from Father Carden by your half-brother, Cassian, your life spirals out of control and you find yourself at the mercy of the Weeping Monk. The life you knew changes drastically when Cassian betrays you in the cruelest of ways. A trade is made, a promise is broken, and a debt must be paid.

Chapter Title: The Baker And The Monk.

Notes: Looking back, I'm surprised how big this story got. Wasn't my intention lol.

Warnings: Angst. Hurt. Trauma bonding. Intrafamily violence. Depression. Self-harm. Suicidal thoughts. Violence. Torture. Gore. Pining. Trauma. Self-Flagellation. Manipulation. Strong Language. Blood. Misogyny. PTSD. Spicy and smut parts. Slight redemption arc. Lima/Stockholm syndrom-ish. Childhood trauma.

Other warnings: Jealousy. Forced Marriage. Forbidden Love. Romance. Slow-burn. Found Familly-ish. Comfort. Fluff. !SMUT and SPICE!

Word count of this fic: +250K

Chapter: 24/47

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The others were still asleep in the morning when you had gone downstairs in the inn to drink some soup and enjoy a peaceful quiet moment alone before having to face the Monk again. Where to go from here? What with Percival, did he still have parents or was the boy on his own? There were a lot of things to think about and it was hard to come to a solid decision or plan. Your peaceful moment alone was interrupted when a man approached the table you were sitting at.

“I noticed you are sitting alone, care for some company to talk to?” He seemed rather friendly.

You were in doubt. “I fear I will not be very talkative.”

He did not give up just yet. “I’m quite the opposite, if you wish to offer a listening ear I might entertain you?”

It was starting to intrigue you. “What would you speak of?”

The man was an open book. “My successes and failures as a baker.”

“Fine.” You decided. “Take a seat. Start with the failures.”

He chuckled and took the chair opposite of you. This baker, whom was named Charles, was a friendly fella that loved to chat with anyone who would listen. Hearing how the life of another was so different compared to yours was refreshing. There was no talk of paladins or the war. It was just a baker speaking of his occupation with an enthusiasm not many still had. For just a moment, you forgot about your own situation and let yourself be carried into the story of another. That lasted until you saw the man look at something behind you, the Monk had came down the stairs and his attire was drawing attention. His attention however was solely on you, and how quickly you were to get to your feet and hurry over to him.

“Your surcoat!” you quietly scolded. “Do you want everyone to know we are hiding in this inn?!”

As you pulled at his arm to lead him back up the stairs, the innkeeper caught your eye and beckoned you over. With a small heart you went over to her.

She was drying off a tankard. “I was under the impression that you didn’t want anyone to notice he was here.”

It was a correct assumption. “You’re right, I’ll talk to him.”

“He’ll bring trouble in those clothes.” She nodded in his direction.

The Monk was watching the conversation, still waiting for you by the stairs. You were aware it was pulling attention to him. “It’s not our intention to-”

She put the linen towel down. “Follow me through the kitchen. I may have something in my quarters, he looks the size of my late husband.”

That was an offer you did not reject, you made eye-contact with the Monk and tilted your head to call him over. He understood the silent request and crossed the large room to where you were waiting.

“The innkeeper may have some less holy clothes for you.” you told him.

Before he could react to the jest, the innkeeper spoke up.

“The name is ‘Amelia’.” She proceeded to lead you through the kitchen of the inn, another door was opened and led into her large quarters. Amelia went to the large wardrobe and opened it’s doors. “Pick out a couple of clothes. Come back to the inn when you’re done.”

You thanked her as she walked past, she murmured something about how her late husband wouldn’t need them anymore. Her generosity was surprising, perhaps she had not always been as fortunate as she was now. The Monk had not set one foot in the direction of the wardrobe.

“Go on. See if you can find something in there for you.” you encouraged.

Slowly he walked to the wardrobe, and tentatively touched a shirt. “It was not my intention to cause you trouble. I had not considered that my clothes would be so noticed here.”

You strolled around the room somewhat impatiently. “A monk in an inn will always draw attention.”

He hummed in agreement. “I had not even noticed.”

That was strange to hear considering how perceptive he could be. “That isn’t like you, often you were the first to notice something out of the ordinary.”

The truth escaped him when he picked up a light grey shirt that interested him. “When I woke and saw that you were no longer in the room with us, my only concern was finding you.” The weight of his confession hit a second later, he almost looked in your direction but stopped himself just in time. A black leather jerkin caught his eye next and he took it from under the stack of clothes on top of it.

“You thought I had run off again.” you stated what was so obvious now.

He swallowed hard and shook some dust from the jerkin. “Yes.”

“I would.” You crossed your arms over your chest, finally daring to face him. “But you did not arrive here alone, there is a child up in that room who needs someone to look after him. Where are his parents?”

The Monk told you what the boy had mentioned to him. “They’re gone.”

It wrangled at your heart to hear it. “What now?”

Not even he seemed to know what to do, it wasn’t like he had experience with raising and looking after children, because even though Percival acted mature for his age he was still just a boy under that hardened character.

He walked towards the bed in the room and put down his choice of clothing, then began to take off his cloak. “He picked up a sword to fight the Trinity Guard, to save me. I will do all that is in my power to ensure he will be safe.”

“How?” It slipped out.

His hands slowed down on their task, his voice got quieter. “I had hoped to not be the only one watching over Percival’s well-being. He could use someone gentle of heart.”

It clicked right away what he was suggesting. “Using a child as leverage to keep me with you?” You scoffed and turned to head towards the door.

He caught you by the arm to stop you. “What must I do for you to forgive me?”

You pulled yourself free from his hold. “Stop trying to stop me every time I want to get away from you, that would be a good start! If you let me be free, I might be more inclined to seek out your company.”

It was something he would need to learn, to let what he was so protective over run free in this world full of dangers he had hoped to shield you from.

His hand moved along your arm until it could take hold of your hand. “It does not have it’s roots in trying to have control over you. I-…” A long pause fell. “I felt the loss of you for a day and it was worse than any punishment forced upon me. Hate me, scream at me, harm me… I surrender to your will. But I beg you, stay.”

You were hoping he could not feel how your body was trembling in response to his plea. “Lancelot, I don’t know if I can after what happened.”

He knew why you were so cautious towards him. “I needed no order from Father to wish for your trust. I meant what I said to you once, you are important to me.”

“Because I was the key to achieving Father Carden’s praise and love for you.” It came out bitter.

“No.”

“No?”

He stepped away. It wasn’t until he continued to dress down that you noticed how much his hands were shaking. “Your presence brings me solace.”

You crossed your arms again, hugging yourself for some comfort. “I hope this is not some elaborate plan to regain my trust and take me back to the paladins.”

He almost looked over his shoulder to you. “Do you think so low of me?”

Your eyes turned cold. “Why do you think that is?”

He swallowed his tongue.

You sighed. “But I trust Percival to be truthful.”

Not him… of course not.

You hated how you couldn’t help but look when he bared his torso and let the ruined clothes drop to the floor. “Your wounds look better than they did last night.”

It was as if he had already forgotten them when he looked down at his healing injuries. “I owe it to your kindness. I doubt you had ointment at hand to use.”

So he knew you must have went out and searched for herbs to make the ointment. It told him you still must have felt a form of attachment towards him. “You’re lucky I know how to make one.”

He slipped the shirt on and inspected its fit. “Indeed.”

To distract yourself, you strolled around the room a little. “Just so you know, I will be referring to you by your actual name in this place. It is best we do not draw attention to ourselves. I hope others here did not figure out already that you are a monk, it would starts rumors and rumors can spread to the paladins and lead them here.”

He had not a single objection to that. “That is alright.”

Suddenly he winced, a pained sound escaped him when he had tried to put the jerkin on.

You approached him right away. “Let me help.”

Again, he had not a single objection when you began to close the leather belts of the jerkin. When you gave a stronger tug on one of them, a chuckle fell out of him. “Is this an attempt to murder me?”

You rolled your eyes at the jest. “Don’t be so dramatic.”

The smile remained on his lips. He almost seemed to enjoy the slightly rougher handling.

“What happens now? Will Father Carden not wish for you to return?” you asked.

He was not sure what to expect. “I do not know. But returning will not be possible, news will have spread of my heritage by now.”

You finished closing the last belt and took a small step back. “And if they were to want you back…?”

He shook his head. “With broken faith? And after what I did? The only reason they would want me back is to kill me.” His eyes locked on your face. “Besides that reason, I know that if I were to return to them you would never forgive me.”

It was a correct assumption. “You’re right. I wouldn’t.”

He gave a nod. “It goes without saying that we should stay out of the sights of paladins. And I will try to see if I can find us a place that will be safer than here.”

Easier said than done. “Won’t be simple. We have not much more than horses and the weapons you carry.”

“We have coin.” He said oh so matter-of-factually, as if you knew what he was speaking of.

“What?” you blurted out.

He was confused for a second. “I-… I always have a pouch of coin with me as I travel. One never knows when it is needed.” Upon seeing your expression change, he asked, “Were you concerned there was none to survive on?”

Him having coin did not mean it would help you too. “Well, it’s your coin. Not mine.”

A frown creased his forehead. Realization hit. “Do you truly think that I would not share what I have with you? What is mine, is yours. You are my wife.”

You took a step away and handed him back his cloak. “Our marriage is nothing but an arrangement that has benefited everyone but myself.”

He held the cloak in his hand, feeling frozen in time and place. “Then it is time I prove what benefits this arrangement will provide for you.”

It had you mildly intrigued, but you didn’t dare to show it. “Put your cloak back on. I hope Percival is still upstairs in the room.”

He did as asked. “He was still asleep when I came to find you.”

You headed for the door to the kitchen, him speaking your name made you stop. He came closer again, stopping right in front of your nose. He intended to take hold of your hand but you moved it back a little and it made him abandon the idea.

He spoke in a quiet manner, “If it would put your mind at rest, I will go and fetch the coin from Goliath’s saddlebag and put it in your possession?”

You blinked. “Maybe you should fetch that pouch from the saddlebag before someone else does?”

His expression changed instantly, as if he had not even thought about the possibility of someone stealing it. “I-… One moment.”

Lancelot walked out of the room, through the kitchen and the inn, to outside. After everything, it was not strange for it to be forgotten or overlooked. It was also somewhat amusing to see him hurry out of the inn because of it. You on the other hand went back up the stairs up to your room after thanking Amelia and asking her for two bowls of broth. When you went inside, you found Percival starting to wake up. The scent of the broth was enough to wake him up fully.

“Good morning.” You handed him a bowl.

Percival mumbled the same in reply and went towards the bed. You cleared your throat to get his attention and he saw you point at the table. With a small sigh, he took place at the table to eat his broth. Just as he sat down, Lancelot entered the room and he went straight over to you. A pouch was put into your hand before you could even think to protest it.

Percival eyed you curiously. “What’s that?”

He told the boy the truth, “Coin.”

Percival’s eyes fell on the pouch again, slightly widened and very interested.

Lancelot noticed it right away. “She has a satchel to carry it in.”

The idea he fed was clearly aimed at you, but you were still a bit taken aback by the weight of the pouch that he had put into your hand. Never had Aldith or Cassian let you carry this much coin on you, they were quick to take it if they knew you had some savings. And for it to just be put into your hands now like it was nothing…

Even the boy had noticed the strange familiarity between you and him. “Are you friends?”

Your attention snapped to Percival, who was looking between you and Lancelot like he was trying to figure it out. Lancelot did not answer, he was looking at you to see what you would say. The last thing you wanted to do was alarm the boy by telling him that the friendship between you and Lancelot had come to a sour end not long ago, Percival barely knew the two of you and it would make more uncomfortable questions arise.

“We are.” you said, and noticed how relieved Lancelot looked.

“How?” Percival looked at Lancelot. “You killed the Fey, then how come you’re friends with her?”

Again he looked at you for an answer, but this time you gave him a look back that let him know that this was his answer to give. Lancelot struggled to explain it. “Father made an exception for her.”

The boy fired another question, “Why?”

He kept looking at you for help in this. “Because she is Ash Folk, as I am.”

“He only let Ash Folk live?” Percival frowned.

“The broth is getting cold. Eat Percival.” You turned to Lancelot. “The other bowl is yours.”

Lancelot was quick to ask, “Have you eaten?”

You gave a nod. “I had soup before you came down to the inn.”

Only then did he take the offer of the broth and took place opposite of Percival. You stashed the pouch of coins into your satchel.

You sat down on the bed for a moment, then let yourself fall back onto the mattress to look up at the ceiling. “You could use some more of that medicine I have given you, Lancelot. Charles told me that the market in this village is available for wares here everyday.”

His spoon stilled midway to his mouth. “ ‘Charles’?”

“The baker I was talking to before you came down the stairs.” you informed.

He continued to eat. “You wish to visit this market then?”

Your eyes closed. “I think it is necessary, that medicine will dull the pain for now, but when it wears off…”

“It would indeed be wise to be prepared.” He agreed to the idea. “Shall we go after this meal?”

Percival gave a ‘yes’ with his mouth stuffed full, earning a scolding look from the Ash Man.

“That’s fine.” you stretched your arms behind your head, enjoying the soft bed. Humming contentedly. A slight cold chill crept over the skin of your waist where it was exposed by your clothes that had moved up a little, it was not bothersome.

“Don’t you like the broth?” Percival suddenly asked.

You turned your head to look at the table and saw how Lancelot turned his head towards the boy. Percival was looking at him curiously, and perhaps hopeful that he would get the other bowl of broth for himself. Lancelot cleared his throat, and took a spoonful of the broth in his mouth in response to that. You smiled at the hint of disappointment in Percival’s expression and made a mental note to make certain the boy would have a proper set of meals every day as long as you could provide him with such.

~~~♡~~~♡~~~♤~~~♡~~~♡~~~

The walk to the market was rather odd, you had to keep a focused eye on Percival who showed a tendency to wander off alone. Lancelot did not seem all too comfortable among the busy crowd, he was constantly looking around himself.

“Try to be calm.” you told him. “You’ll hurt your neck if you keep turning it so much.”

He picked up on the jesting tone. “How can you be so calm?”

You stopped at a stall with small curiosities. “I’ve spend days living among the enemy. It’s nothing new.”

It was a small lie. Being among a crowd was causing you distress but you did not want to draw attention, so you pretended all was well.

Lancelot noticed Percival had taken an interest in a stall a little further away and caught the boy by the vest before he could disappear in the crowd. “Remain in my sight.”

“It’s not my fault if your eyes are bad.” Percival bluntly said.

He took on a more firmer tone. “Stay.”

Percival rolled his eyes and came to stand a little closer to you, looking down at all the small bits and trinkets on the stall. Visiting a market was something you had not done in quite some time and it was the first time you weren’t doing it alone.

“I can see a stall further up ahead that is selling medicine.” Lancelot informed you.

He leaded the way to the stall, a friendly old lady was selling some basic necessities for those who dabbled in medicine. There was a certain set of herbs that you needed to make more of that ointment you had made but the seller had no stock of it. Another trip into the forest for them would be warranted. Fortunately she did have a few vials of medicine for when Lancelot’s fever and pain would return. When it was time to pay, for the first time you found out just how much there was actually in the pouch of coins. The small gasp from you made the others look.

Lancelot came closer, noticing your startled reaction to the contents of the pouch, by doing so he blocked the view others could have on it. “May I?”

Was he truly asking if he could use his own coin to pay for the medicine? It was such a ludicrous thing. “Of course.”

He took two small coins out and handed them to the seller whilst putting the pouch back into the safety of your satchel, then put the vials into it as well. Your attention was pulled away from him when Percival lightly tugged at your sleeve.

“Can we get a sweetroll?” The boy asked so very carefully.

Out of reflex you looked at Lancelot for an answer, before reminding yourself that he had said that the coin was yours just as much as it was his. “I believe we can?”

A sweetroll, after how brave the child had been to step into the Trinity Guard fight with him? It was the very least he could give in return.

Lancelot noted the doubt and put your mind at ease. “Yes.” He relied on his nose to find what the boy was asking for. “Over there.”

For you it was still hard to distinct all the scents, especially in a place so filled with all sorts of kinds.

Lancelot gave Percival an encouraging nudge against the back once at the stall that sold the sweetrolls. “They are fresh.” Then he looked at you with a knowing look. “Can you tell?”

You shook your head. “No.”

“No?” he asked curiously.

There was no ill intent behind his question, you could tell. This was just him being curious how well your sense of smell was now.

Percival pointed at a sweetroll, one that looked a little larger than the others of course. “I want that one.”

Lancelot hoped to improve Percival’s manners and corrected his way of asking for something. " ‘May I have that one?’ "

Percival did not pick up on what was being gently taught to him. “I saw it first.”

You turned your head, covering your mouth to stifle a laugh.

“I meant-” Lancelot sighed, but he did not want to make this more confusing. He would speak to the boy about this later. “Alright.”

Percival became far more cheery when he could eat his sweetroll on the way back to the inn. On your way there, the path got more crowded with people, and after having been alone so often the crowd felt overwhelming. Seeing a threat coming felt impossible like this. People were almost walking against or into you constantly, the many voices flooded your ears, you began to lose sight on where you were and where you were going. Your heart was beating too fast, there was not enough air getting into your lungs. What on earth was happening…

“Are you alright?” Percival suddenly asked.

No. No, you were not. “I…”

Just before someone else could walk into you, Lancelot placed himself close to you, using his form as a barrier against the crowd. “What is wrong? You look unwell.”

It felt embarrassing to say it. “There’s too many people.”

Lancelot looked around him for a moment and spotted a smaller and less crowded path. “We’ll take that path instead. Come.”

You barely registered that he had placed a hand on your back to guide you along. The second you were out of the crowd, you leaned against a wall to recover.

Percival looked so very worried. “Are you sick?”

“No. I’m not used to being around so many people so closely anymore.” You hoped he wouldn’t ask why that was. “I can’t even see if there’s paladins around.”

Lancelot spoke. “Do not worry. I will notice them.”

He saw the look in your eyes change, it twisted a dagger into his gut. You did not trust that he would warn you if he saw paladins…

The boy touched your arm to comfort you. “It’s alright.”

No one expected for Percival to offer you the last bit of the sweetroll, it instantly made you feel a bit better.

“No, thank you.” you refused the sweet offer. “Did that sweetroll make you so sweet, or were you always like this?”

Percival’s face flushed a little, especially when he saw the slight grin on Lancelot’s face who saw it happen.

Lancelot came closer, supporting you by the arm to see if you were stable enough to walk. “Are you certain you do not wish for something to eat or drink?”

You pried his fingers loose from your arm. “I’ll be alright. Let’s get back to the inn before we run into paladins.”

The Ash Man kept a sharp eye on you whilst the three of you walked back to the inn. Percival and him picked out the lesser crowded paths and at some point you ended up on a narrow cobblestone street. Houses were build left and right in a long line and at the end of that street was a blacksmith working at his forge.

Lancelot came to a halt. “Do you mind stopping here for a moment?”

Of course he would be curious to see what sort of weapons this village had to offer. “Go ahead.”

He gave a grateful tilt of the head and approached the blacksmith, you and Percival followed suit.

“Good day.” The blacksmith gave a greeting nod and halted his work, wiping the sweat from his forehead.

“Good day.” Lancelot greeted just as polite. “Do you have wares for sale?”

“I do.” The blacksmith pointed at the house beside the forge. “My daughter keeps charge of the shop. Feel welcome.”

Whilst walking the short distance to the shop, you discreetly handed Lancelot the pouch. “In case you need it.”

He tucked it under his sword belt, in those few seconds Percival had already walked into the shop and reminded you both that this child would walk right through fire if there was something he wanted on the other side. Lancelot followed him inside immediately and grabbed hold on the back of the boy’s jacket. One look at the boy and Percival knew that Lancelot was serious about staying in sight.

A woman who looked your age was cleaning one of the many swords inside the store, she halted her task right away when she saw Lancelot. “Hello, is there something you seek? We have many weapons a man such as yourself would love to have.”

You noticed how it took her a little too long to even notice you were in the store too, not that she seemed to care, her eyes were glued to Lancelot from the second he had stepped inside. It irked you, a feeling you suppressed, this woman had done you no wrong.

“A sword.” he answered her.

She gestured for him to follow and leaded him to a wall with swords on display. “See something you like?”

Oh, it could not be more obvious that she was not talking about the swords then. Even Percival noted an undertone in her voice and looked up at her questioningly. The Ash Man said nothing, his gaze waved over the wall of swords and then he picked one off of the wall. He created some distance and spun the sword in his hand a few times.

“No.” he said, dissatisfied. The sword was placed back and another was put to the test, and another… and another…

You were watching the picky twit, starting to feel embarrassed for how he turned down sword after sword. “What exactly are you looking for?”

He smiled at the slightly annoyed tone. “Balance.”

“Balance?” Percival parroted. “It’s a sword. You just have to hit someone with it.”

He inspected the crossguard of the sword whilst explaining it to the boy. “A sword must have a good balance to control it well. It must be strong, not just the blade but the pommel and crossguard as well. A blade alone will not offer much aid in a sword fight without a strong pommel.”

The blacksmith’s daughter approached him now that he was just looking at the details of the pommel. “Spoken as a true swordsman. You are in need of a new sword then?”

She placed her hand on his lower arm, he looked at her hand right away. The sight of it bothered you, it shouldn’t have, not after all that had happened.

“No.” He finally read her intentions from her face. “It is for her.”

You saw him gesture your way and stared back at him in surprise. A sword, for you? Truly?

“Oh… I see… of course.” she stammered and stepped back.

When he beckoned for you to come closer, you became very aware of the sets of eyes on you. It felt a little awkward to approach him.

Upon seeing the reluctance, he approached you himself. He stood at your side and placed the sword into your hands, with your state from earlier in mind he behaved as gentle as he knew he could be. “See? Perfectly balanced steel. The right length for you to wield, a strong crossguard that can be used as a weapon in itself.”

The enthusiasm with which he spoke was infectious, if someone knew what sort of sword was good it had to be him. And with the way he was touching your arm and hands, you struggled to fully focus on the details of the sword he was explaining about.

He stood half against you. “What do you think? Do you like it?”

“Yes.” It flopped out, as if air decided to flee your lungs before the rest of your body could.

He looked at the shopkeeper. “We’ll take the sword.”

“Very well.” She sounded a little disappointed that he wasn’t interested in the other matters that she had wanted to offer.

He made an observation. “She needs a belt and sheath for it.”

“Of course.” She went to a hook on the wall that held multiple sorts of belts and helped you pick one out, then she attached the sheath to it.

Lancelot approved of the ensemble and was seemingly wondering if there could be more added to the belt that would be useful. “A small pouch for it?”

That sure sounded handy to store small things in. “I’d love that.”

With a polite gesture of his hand, he told the shopkeeper to add it to the ensemble. Then there you stood, with a proper weapon belt and a sword at your hip, the joy it brought was refreshing.

“Will that be all?” The shopkeeper asked.

Percival piped up, “I want a knife.”

“No.” Lancelot denied that request.

The boy fired back. “Mine was stolen! By the people you lived with.”

The way the child glared at him and gave him a warning look… It was a blessing that he had not referred to them as paladins.

Lancelot looked at you for advice. Was it proper to give the young boy a knife?

You mistook the look he gave. “If the sword is too costly for Percival to get a knife, I will manage without a sword.”

He sighed and looked towards the shopkeeper. “Do you have something appropriate for one of his age to use?”

“My ‘age’ ?” Percival glared at him. “What’s that got to do with it?”

You snorted a laugh, curious how Lancelot was going to talk himself out of this one. And apparently he considered it wise to not answer Percival’s bait for a battle. Thankfully the shopkeeper sensed the mood of the boy shifting in the wrong direction and quickly handed a knife to Lancelot.

He inspected the knife before giving it to Percival. “Good?”

The boy got very cheery instantly again, and with a wide grin he nodded up to him. The sword and knife were paid for and the shopkeeper bid you all a good evening. Indeed evening had arrived over the land, there were far less people on the streets now. With a sword that you could rest your hand on, you felt more at ease. Had this been Lancelot’s intention, for you to feel less threatened by the crowd? It worked.

~~~♡~~~♡~~~♤~~~♡~~~♡~~~

Before entering the inn, the three of you stopped by the horses. They were indeed being fed and taken care of, the innkeeper was one of the better ones out there it seemed.

“I miss Bear.” you said quietly whilst brushing the coat of the horse, that you had stolen from the paladins, with some straw. Lancelot was beside you, tending to Goliath’s coat.

Percival had heard it too. “Who’s ‘Bear’?”

“My own horse.” you told him. “This is the one I stole from the paladins. He’s sweet too, but he’s not Bear.”

The boy pouted a bit. “Where is Bear?”

You sighed. “Still at the paladin camp, I think.”

“He will be alright.” Lancelot reassured. “A good horse is always valuable, they will treat him well.”

You hoped he was right about that. “I hope so.”

After tending to the horses, you headed into the inn. The scent of warm potatoes and vegetables hanged inside the place, it was a warm welcome to your nostrils.

“I’m hungry.” Percival said the second you walked into the inn.

“I will ask the innkeeper for meals. Do we eat in the room?” you asked them.

“Yes.” Lancelot was quick to reply. The visit to the market had been enough risks for the day.

He did not have the heart to remind the boy that he had eaten a sweetroll not long ago, considering one of the ways to win the war against the Fey had been to burn their mills to cause famine amongst them.

As you walked towards the bar, he took Percival up to the room. Amelia was already looking at you, awaiting the interaction whilst she brushed a stray lock of her curly black hair behind her ear.

“That is a fine looking sword.” She nodded down at the sword resting at your hip. “Went to the market then?”

The wish for small talk was shared. “Yes. I needed more medicine for my friend.”

Her eyes narrowed for a blink. “That man you are with is your ‘friend’?”

Friend… it was the only way you could describe him that wouldn’t draw attention.

You worried what her reaction meant. “Yes…”

“I thought he was your lover.” She shrugged her shoulders. “And the boy?”

Rumors could be born so easily… at least Amelia was not afraid to ask for the truth. “Percival’s parents died, he only has us now.”

She hummed and filled some plates with the stew she had prepared for those at the inn. Her voice was just loud enough for you to hear. “Not many know what the Weeping Monk looks like, the people speak of him as if he is a ghost. Those who have not seen his face, or heard the stories, will not recognize him. But I have heard the stories. So tell me, should I be concerned?”

Your hands got clammy. She knew… she knew… “He is not a ghost, nor a monster. He will do you no harm.”

At least you hoped that was true, and that this was not some elaborate plan of his to get your trust back and return you to Father Carden.

She stared you down for a second, then gave a nod and placed the plates in front of your nose. “Be careful. Someone like him must have dangerous enemies, do not find yourself in the midst of it.”

If only she knew that you were already standing in the midst of it all. You took the plates to carefully carry them up the stairs. “Thank you for the meals.”

“You’re welcome. And once your ‘friend’-” she truly enunciated the word, “-feels better, do ask him if he could be so kind to move some of the lumber from behind the inn inside for the fireplace. There is no rush, but I would appreciate the help.”

It was a small favor to ask for in return for the hospitality she had shown. “I will ask. And he is truly just a friend, that is already complicated enough as it is.”

Her voice got a little louder, as if she meant to embarrass you in a playful way, “Perhaps it is complicated because he keeps imagining all the sins he would commit if he were to get you into bed.”

It caused your cheeks to burn. You tried to hush her. “What?! No! Of course not! He’s not like that-”

She arched a brow after you said the last part. “He’s not?”

Doubt was dripping off her tone and her expression, it only got you more flustered. She was such an open personality, unafraid to voice her thoughts and opinions and you found yourself at their mercy.

“He’s not.” you said firmly. Aware that your expression did not match the confidence of your voice.

A cheeky laugh escaped her. “Alright, don’t get so nervous. Who would I be to judge you for seeking some comfort in the arms of a monk?”

You rolled your eyes and turned away from her, carrying the plates in hand to carry them up the stairs. “You should write a book with that kind of imagination, Amelia.”

A laugh rippled through her chest and the sound followed you up the stairs, it wasn’t until you were in the room and had closed the door that you finally stopped hearing it. You placed the plates of stew down on the table. Percival was at the table not a blink of an eye later, Lancelot was more patient in his approach. He did not sit down yet when he saw you ignore the meal to attach your dagger to your new belt as well.

You finally noticed once you were done with the task. “Go on, sit. You don’t have to wait for me, you need your meals to get healthy again.”

“So do you.” he said whilst taking seat beside Percival.

You took the remaining plate of stew to eat on the bed. “How are your wounds? Is that ointment still working?”

“It is wearing off I believe.” He took a bite. “The vials will bring some relief.”

Those vials were good for fever, but you were not sure how well it would work against dirt getting into the wounds. “But you need ointment to protect you from infections, and it helps to quicken the process of healing. I’ll go search for what I need after the meal.”

He shook his head. “Tomorrow is better.”

You frowned. “But-”

He would not hear it. “There is no need to scour the woods for me at night. I will not perish within hours. You should concern yourself over your own health more, have your own bruises even healed yet?”

“ Fine, I’ll go tomorrow.” you agreed to it. “And they’re almost gone.”

“How did you get bruises?” Percival asked with his mouth full.

“Paladins.” You spared the boy of the darker truth, drank the last of the broth that was left of the stew and put the plate down on the bed.

Lancelot scolded the boy for the lack of manners. “Do not talk with a full mouth.”

“Why?” Percival asked with his mouth still full.

“It is not proper.”

“Why?”

Lancelot sighed when the boy kept speaking whilst he chewed. “I can see right into your mouth. It ruins the appetite.”

Percival rolled his eyes and finally swallowed the food down. “Then don’t look.”

Those two conversing was so entertaining to watch. Lancelot trying to help the boy learn some manners, whilst the boy reacted to it as if Lancelot was exaggerating. The patience he had with the child was admirable. You watched their entire interaction, and Percival proved quite talented at trying to change the topic when it was most convenient for him.

An unexpected question of the boy derailed their entire conversation. “That man that talked to you before you fought those masked paladins, why did he ask if I could smell the Fey? Can you smell who is Fey?”

Lancelot had finished his plate not long after Percival had, and confirmed what the boy believed to be true. “Ash Folk have a strong sense of smell. Fey kind gives of a different sort of scent than Manblood.”

The boy looked somewhat confused. “Different how?”

He leaned back into the chair. “Imagine it as a cloak hanging over them at all times, a fresh scent much like young grass. It is different for all Fey, but it always smells similar to what one can find in the woods.”

You had never been able to put the scent into words, but his description made complete sense. “It prickles the nose.”

His attention turned to you. “Yes.”

“But not in a bad way.” you assured Percival. “I can’t pick up on scents as good as he can, but his description fits.”

Lancelot was glad to hear that you experienced it in a similar way. “I can ignore most scents, it would overwhelm my senses too greatly otherwise. But I will always notice the Fey scent.”

“Because you used it to find us?” Percival was starting to piece the puzzle together again.

Lancelot gave a small nod, aware how even the boy must have realized how terrible it was that a Fey had used his abilities against his own kind.

It lead Percival to chase the truth. “Why were you with them? If you’re Fey, why did you fight against us?”

You didn’t want this to end in trouble. “Percival-”

“It’s alright.” Lancelot said to you. “He has a right to know.”

You rose from the bed and approached Percival, leaning onto the back of the chair with your arm as Lancelot began his story. He told the boy how he ended up in the hands of Father Carden, what was expected of him and why. Percival had not been so quiet in quite some time, often a look of confusion set in his eyes to which Lancelot explained a little more.

“Do you really think we’re damned?” The boy asked.

Lancelot got quieter. “I do not know what to believe anymore.”

Percival looked down for a second, chewing his lip. “But you won’t hurt the Fey anymore?”

That was at least one thing he was certain of. “No. Not unless it is to defend us from danger.”

To the boy it was an agreeable condition. Percival still had some questions that were a little less hard to answer, mostly about how monks lived and how they prayed. You did notice that Lancelot was careful not to mention how they used the scourge on themselves. The memory of the wounds he had inflicted upon himself the last time he had done so was etched into your mind, you doubted those were not still hurting him even just sitting there.

“Alright.” You grabbed their empty plates. “Whilst you two talk further, I’m taking these downstairs before it attracts flies into the room.”

They barely acknowledged the announcement, Percival was too engulfed in what Lancelot was telling him and Lancelot was too concentrated on not saying something that the boy was too young to hear about. So you headed down to the inn, Amelia was sweeping the floor and gave a grateful nod when she saw you carrying the plates down.

“To lessen some of your workload.” You held the plates up. “Do I put them in the kitchen?”

“Please do. Thank you.” She continued her task of cleaning the inn for the night.

The baker, Charles, was still up and sat at a table alone, you had to walk past him to go to the kitchen. “Care to offer a listening ear again, or perhaps accept one for yourself?”

You walked past him. “My ears always listen. I’ll put these in the kitchen first.”

Once you returned from the kitchen, he was awaiting your presence and leaned over the table to move the other chair so you could sit. Again he told of his life, about how before he became a baker he dreamed of being a bard, and when he offered to play on his lute you had to tell him that those already asleep in the inn upstairs might not appreciate the music at that hour. He was rather sweet, it was nice to listen to him talk. He had some quite amusing stories to tell about how some patrons would empty out a loaf of bread and try to return the shell of it to get their coin back.

Charles leaned a little closer over the table, his hands wrapped around the tankard that was long since emptied. “And you, what sort of stories can you tell me?”

It made you get evasive. “I’m not that interesting.”

He tsk-ed. “Nonsense. I see stories in those beautiful eyes.”

“‘Beautiful eyes’?” A chuckle escaped you. It had been a while since such flattery had been aimed your way.

“Not used to flattery?” he sounded surprised. “Hard to believe from someone like you.”

“Someone like me?” You had a cheeky grin.

“I enjoy your company and would love to enjoy it for the rest of the night.” Charles made no secret of his intentions, especially when he reached over to place a hand over your own.

A plate was put down on the table between you and Charles, who jolted back in his chair from the loud clattering it made. You reacted the same way, your heartbeat spiked. It was not Amelia who had put the plate down on the table, no, Lancelot had brought down your empty plate that you had forgotten upstairs in the room.

“I’m sorry, who are you?” Charles asked rightfully irritated.

"Her husband.”

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