#it would be something they’d notice for sure

[moonlitstoriess]

The Cost of Deception- Azriel x fem!reader (2/3)

Summary: After years of silence, Y/N and Azriel unknowingly track the same target, only to find themselves face-to-face once more. Betrayal runs deep, and neither is willing to forgive, but the mission must come first—if they don’t destroy each other first.

See masterlist

Part 1

Warnings: not proofread, SMUT MINORS DNI (i will mention when it starts and ends), mentions of trauma, fighting, angst, mentions of SA, still kinda toxic Azriel, injuries

Azriel had been up for hours. Sleep had evaded him, the tangled sheets of the too-small bed serving as a bitter reminder of his lack of control. He hated himself for what had happened the night before—for how easily he had given in to her. She had been a firestorm in his arms, all heat and anger, a perfect storm of fury and passion. And he’d matched her, moment for moment, letting the simmering tension they’d carried for years erupt into something raw and primal.

But it was a mistake. He knew that.

His shadows slithered around him, restless as his thoughts. The morning air was cool, biting against his skin as he packed their meager supplies with deliberate precision. Every movement was an effort to drown out the memory of her body, the feel of her beneath him, the taste of her curses and her lips all at once.

The soft rustle of sheets behind him told him she was waking. He didn’t turn. He couldn’t. Not yet.

“Already up?” her voice broke the quiet, low and husky from sleep.

Azriel didn’t pause, his tone colder than the air. “We leave in ten minutes.”

He heard her shift, the sound of her feet hitting the floor. She didn’t say anything for a moment, and in the silence, he allowed himself a glance.

She looked… different in the soft morning light. No less fierce, but there was something raw about her, a vulnerability he didn’t want to acknowledge. Her hair was tousled, her expression guarded, but her eyes—gods, those eyes. They betrayed her for a heartbeat, flashing with hurt before they iced over.

“Right,” she said flatly, turning away to gather her things. “Wouldn’t want to waste time.”

The words were casual, but he could feel the edge in them, sharp enough to cut. He deserved it. He’d known that last night would hurt her, and he’d done it anyway.

His jaw tightened as he turned back to his task, pretending not to notice the quickness with which she dressed, the stiffness in her movements. Pretending not to feel the weight of the silence between them.

Azriel’s thoughts churned, a chaotic mess he couldn’t untangle. He’d spent years keeping his distance, convincing himself it was better that way. Safer. For her. For him.

But he hadn’t truly stayed away. He’d watched from the shadows, making sure she didn’t stumble into trouble she couldn’t handle. It was obsession, maybe. Or guilt. Or something he couldn’t name.

And last night had only made it worse.

He shouldn’t have touched her. Shouldn’t have let her pull him under. But the moment her lips had met his, all his carefully constructed walls had crumbled. And now, standing here in the cold light of morning, he couldn’t escape the truth of it: he wanted her still.

Not just her body, though that was seared into his mind like a brand. He wanted her fire, her defiance, the way she challenged him like no one else dared.

And gods help him, he hated her for it.

Because she had ruined him, too.

The memory of her betrayal—her lies—burned like a fresh wound. Her false information had led to disaster, and he’d paid the price. They both had. He could still see the fallout, the chaos it had caused, the look on her face when the consequences had come crashing down.

He shoved the thought aside, his jaw clenched as he swung his pack over his shoulder.

“We’re late,” he said curtly, breaking the silence.

She glanced at him, her expression unreadable. “I’m ready.”

They left the room without another word, the door clicking shut behind them.

As they walked through the quiet streets, the tension between them was palpable. His shadows twitched, brushing against her arm as if they had a mind of their own. He saw her stiffen at the contact, her gaze snapping to his in annoyance.

“Can you control those things for once?” she muttered.

“Can you stop giving orders for once?” he shot back, his voice colder than he intended.

Her lips thinned, but she didn’t respond. Instead, she quickened her pace, as if putting distance between them would lessen the weight of the silence.

Azriel watched her, his thoughts a tangled mess of guilt, anger, and something he refused to name. She was infuriating. Stubborn. Beautiful.

And gods help him, he didn’t know how to let her go.

The trail they followed wound through dense woods, the kind that swallowed sound and sight in equal measure. Every step was accompanied by the crunch of leaves underfoot, though Y/N couldn’t bring herself to care about stealth. Her frustration at the male stalking behind her simmered too hotly for that. If Azriel wanted her to be quiet, he could damn well walk faster and take the lead. But no—he kept his distance, keeping to his shadows as if they were the only things he trusted.

And maybe they were.

Y/N’s grip on her weapon tightened as she stomped down the uneven path, the tension between them suffocating. She didn’t dare look back, not when the memory of last night still clung to her like a second skin. She’d woken up to find him already dressed and preparing, his expression shuttered, his voice clipped.

A mistake.

That word had cut deeper than any blade. She hated herself for the flash of hurt he must’ve seen in her eyes before she managed to lock it away. Hated him even more for the way he seemed so unbothered, as if it hadn’t meant anything to him.

She gritted her teeth, her mind replaying his cold tone as she finally muttered, “You know, if I’m such a liability, why don’t you just leave me behind?”

Azriel didn’t answer immediately, though she knew he’d heard her. His shadows slithered across the ground toward her, curling near her boots as if they, too, wanted to silence her.

His voice, when it came, was clipped and devoid of emotion. “We’ve been over this. I need you. You need me. We both have the same goal. Malrik’s loyalists won’t hand themselves over for interrogation.”

The mention of Malrik set her blood boiling, though she wasn’t sure if it was because of the danger he posed or the fact that Azriel’s words had come with such detachment—I need you, not I want you. Not I care about you.

“Right,” she muttered, rolling her eyes even though she knew he couldn’t see her face. “Because that worked so well last time.”

Her words hung in the air like a challenge, but Azriel didn’t take the bait. Of course he didn’t. He never rose to her provocations unless it served some purpose, and right now, his silence only made her anger burn hotter.

The tension between them had her so distracted that she nearly missed the sound. Nearly.

A twig snapped, sharp and sudden, slicing through the oppressive quiet of the forest.

Y/N froze instantly, her instincts kicking in as she gripped her weapon. Her heart raced, but her body stayed perfectly still. She didn’t need to look back to know Azriel had stopped, too. His shadows darted out like vipers, curling through the trees in search of the source.

“Move,” Azriel hissed, his voice low but urgent.

Before she could process his command, he shoved her behind a tree. The force of it knocked the air from her lungs, and she barely had time to steady herself before an arrow flew past, embedding itself in the bark where she’d been standing a second ago.

Her heart slammed against her ribs as she peered out from behind the tree. Figures emerged from the shadows—six of them, maybe more. Their movements were too calculated, too precise for common bandits. These were professionals.

“Well, well,” one of the mercenaries drawled, his scarred face splitting into a grin. “Looks like we caught ourselves a pretty bird and her handler.”

Y/N’s grip on her weapon tightened, her pulse thundering in her ears. She could feel Azriel’s presence behind her, could feel the shift in the air as his shadows slithered around them. The tension between them was nothing compared to the danger standing before them now.

Azriel stepped out from behind the tree, his wings partially spread, his blade gleaming in the dim light filtering through the canopy. He looked every bit the terrifying Illyrian warrior the stories warned of, his shadows curling around his feet like living smoke.

“Leave now,” he said, his voice cold and sharp as steel. “And you’ll live.”

The mercenary laughed, the sound rough and mocking. “Oh, I don’t think so, shadow boy. Malrik wants your heads, and he’s paying well for them.”

Y/N stepped out then, her own blade at the ready. Her pulse steadied as adrenaline took over, her focus sharpening. “If you think Malrik’s gold is worth your lives, be my guest.”

The mercenary’s grin widened. “Feisty. I like her.” He raised his hand, and the rest of the group moved as one, fanning out to surround them.

Azriel shot her a warning look. “Stay close,” he muttered, his voice barely audible.

She bristled at the command but didn’t argue. They could hash out their differences later—if they survived this.

The first mercenary lunged, his blade aimed at Azriel’s throat. Azriel moved like a shadow, his dagger flashing as he parried the attack and countered with brutal efficiency.

Y/N barely had time to take it in before another mercenary was on her, his blade slashing toward her midsection. She sidestepped, bringing her own weapon up in a fluid arc that caught him across the shoulder. He staggered but didn’t fall, and she had to duck as another mercenary came at her from the side.

The fight descended into chaos, the sounds of steel meeting steel echoing through the forest. Y/N moved with precision, her strikes landing with deadly accuracy. But the mercenaries were relentless, their coordination suggesting they’d fought together before.

At one point, she felt a presence at her back and whirled, only to see Azriel there, his blade slicing through the throat of a mercenary who’d gotten too close. His shadows curled protectively around her for a moment before he moved away, his attention snapping back to the fight.

Her breath hitched, but there was no time to dwell on it.

Another mercenary lunged at her, his strike aimed at her head. She ducked and retaliated, driving her blade into his side. He went down with a grunt, but she barely had time to catch her breath before another took his place.

The fight was brutal, and for a moment, it seemed like they might be overwhelmed. But then Azriel’s shadows surged, wrapping around two of the mercenaries and dragging them to the ground. He moved with lethal grace, his blade flashing as he finished them off.

The remaining mercenaries hesitated, their confidence wavering as they realized they were outmatched.

“Leave,” Azriel snarled, his voice low and deadly.

This time, they listened. The survivors turned and fled, disappearing into the trees.

Y/N lowered her blade, her chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath. Her body ached, her muscles screaming in protest, but she forced herself to stand tall.

Azriel turned to her, his expression unreadable. “Are you hurt?”

She shook her head, not trusting herself to speak.

His gaze lingered on her for a moment longer before he turned away, cleaning his blade with practiced efficiency.

The tension between them hadn’t lessened. If anything, it had grown worse. But for now, there was silence, broken only by the distant sound of the mercenaries retreating.

Y/N stared after them, her thoughts a chaotic mess. She’d survived worse fights, but something about this one felt different—something about the way Azriel had looked at her, the way his shadows had curled around her like a shield.

She didn’t know what to make of it, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to.

After a couple of hours, the forest gave way to a clearing bathed in the glow of an early sunrise, the light slicing through the lingering mist. Y/N pushed past a dense tangle of branches, Azriel a step behind her, his shadows still coiling warily as if the mercenaries from earlier might reappear. Her muscles ached from the fight, and her patience was worn thin.

They had only just stepped into the clearing when Y/N froze.

Figures—at least five of them—stood gathered near the center, a flickering fire between them. They were armed and armored, their postures relaxed but alert. The glint of steel and polished leather caught the light, and though they looked at ease, the tension in the air was unmistakable.

“More of Malrik’s men?” Y/N muttered, her hand instinctively tightening around her blade.

Azriel’s shadows slithered forward, testing the air around the strangers. “No,” he said quietly. “Not mercenaries. But not friends, either.”

The figures turned as one, their conversation cutting off as they noticed the new arrivals. Y/N’s stomach twisted. They hadn’t been expecting anyone here, and whoever these people were, they looked like they could hold their own in a fight.

The leader of the group—a tall female with auburn hair braided down her back—stepped forward. Her eyes, sharp and assessing, flicked between Y/N and Azriel. “Well, isn’t this a surprise?” she said, her voice smooth but carrying an edge. “And here I thought this little corner of the forest was supposed to be quiet.”

Azriel stepped in front of Y/N, his shadows curling around his shoulders like a cloak. “We don’t want trouble,” he said evenly.

The female arched a brow. “Funny, considering you look like trouble incarnate.” Her gaze drifted to Y/N, lingering for a moment before returning to Azriel. “You don’t look like you’re from around here. What brings you to our woods?”

Before Azriel could respond, another figure stepped forward—a male. He was taller than the others, his dark hair curling slightly at the ends, a sword strapped to his back and a dagger at his hip. His eyes were a startling shade of green, sharp and unreadable, but there was a faint smirk tugging at his lips, as if he found the entire situation amusing.

“Raya,” the male drawled, addressing the woman. “Let’s not scare our guests off just yet. They’ve already had a rough night, judging by the state of them.” His gaze flicked over Y/N, lingering on the dried blood streaked across her cheek and the dirt smudged on her gear.

Y/N bristled under his scrutiny, raising her chin. “We didn’t realize we were trespassing,” she said coolly.

“Of course you didn’t,” the man said, his smirk widening. “That’s what makes it so much fun to catch fae like you off guard.”

“Enough, Cade,” Raya said sharply, shooting the man a warning look. He raised his hands in mock surrender, but the grin never left his face.

Raya turned her attention back to Y/N and Azriel. “These woods are dangerous, in case you hadn’t noticed. Fae like you don’t usually wander in without a reason.”

Y/N hesitated, weighing her options. She didn’t trust these people, but the group was clearly organized, well-armed, and familiar with the terrain. If they were looking for Malrik’s loyalists, these strangers might know something useful.

“We’re looking for someone,” she said finally, ignoring Azriel’s sharp look.

The group exchanged glances, a silent conversation passing between them. It was Cade who broke the silence, his smirk replaced by a more serious expression. “And who, exactly, are you looking for?”

“Malrik’s men,” Azriel said, his voice hard. “We’re tracking them.”

That got their attention. The tension in the clearing shifted, the casual postures of the group becoming more guarded.

“You’re hunting Malrik’s men?” Raya said, her tone skeptical. “Why?”

“Because they’re a threat,” Y/N said simply.

Cade laughed, the sound low and rough. “A threat? That’s putting it lightly. They’re practically crawling all over these woods. You’ll need more than the two of you to take them on.”

“Maybe we’re not the only ones who want them gone,” Y/N said, her tone sharp.

Raya tilted her head, studying her. “What are you suggesting?”

“I’m suggesting that if you know something, you share it,” Y/N said, stepping closer. “We’re after the same thing. Help us, or stay out of our way.”

The group went silent, their eyes darting between Raya and Cade. For a moment, it seemed like they might refuse. But then Cade stepped forward, his green eyes locking on Y/N’s.

“I’ll tell you what,” he said, his voice dropping into a low drawl. “We’ve got a camp not far from here. Come with us, and we’ll talk.”

Y/N hesitated, glancing at Azriel. His expression was unreadable, but his shadows were curling tighter around him, a sign of his unease.

“We’ll follow,” Azriel said at last, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Cade’s smirk returned. “Good. Try to keep up, shadow boy.”

As the group began to move, Y/N fell into step beside Azriel, her thoughts racing. She didn’t trust these people—especially not Cade, with his infuriating smirk and sharp eyes. But if they knew anything about Malrik’s men, they couldn’t afford to walk away.

Still, as they followed the group deeper into the woods, Y/N couldn’t shake the feeling that they’d just stepped into something much bigger than a simple hunt for mercenaries.

The trek toward the camp stretched on, the forest around them dense and humming with the subtle sounds of life. Cade led the way, his steps light and confident, while the others moved in a loose formation, clearly comfortable navigating the terrain. Y/N kept her eyes sharp, scanning for any sign of danger, though the group’s relaxed demeanor suggested they weren’t worried about threats.

She felt Azriel's presence like a shadow at her back—silent, watchful, and brooding. It was a constant reminder of their earlier argument, and the weight of his frustration pressed against her like a physical thing.

“So,” Cade said, his voice cutting through the quiet. He glanced over his shoulder at her, a lazy smirk tugging at his lips. “What’s a girl like you doing running around with shadow boy over there?”

Y/N blinked, caught off guard by his sudden question. “Excuse me?”

“You don’t exactly scream ‘spymaster lackey,’” Cade continued, ignoring Azriel entirely. “No offense, shadow boy.”

Azriel didn’t respond, but Y/N could feel the temperature drop as his shadows tightened, curling around him like restless smoke.

“I’m not his lackey,” she said coolly, stepping over a fallen branch.

“Could’ve fooled me.” Cade grinned, his green eyes glinting with amusement. “You’re a little too... fiery to be running around on a leash.”

Y/N raised a brow. “Fiery?”

“It’s a compliment,” he said with a wink. “Though, if we’re being honest, I’d peg you as more of a wildfire. Unpredictable. Dangerous. The kind that burns a man alive if he’s not careful.”

Despite herself, Y/N felt a flicker of amusement. “That’s a lot of assumptions for someone who doesn’t even know my name.”

“Oh, I don’t need your name to know you’re trouble,” Cade replied, his grin widening. “It’s written all over you.”

She shook her head, biting back a laugh. “You’re ridiculous.”

“And you’re deflecting.” Cade’s tone turned teasing, his gaze flicking over her with open curiosity. “So, what’s your story, wildfire? How’d you end up chasing mercenaries with a shadow-slinging brooder?”

Y/N opened her mouth to respond, but a low, dangerous growl from behind her cut through the air. She glanced over her shoulder to find Azriel glaring at Cade, his shadows curling tighter, darker.

“Shouldn’t you be watching the path?” Azriel said, his voice cold and quiet, the kind that sent shivers down her spine.

Cade, to her surprise, didn’t so much as flinch. Instead, he shrugged, completely unfazed. “The path’s not going anywhere. Besides, I’d hate to miss the chance to get to know your lovely companion here.”

Azriel’s steps quickened, and suddenly he was at her side, his towering presence making it clear that Cade’s banter had crossed a line. Y/N felt the air between them shift, the tension so thick it was suffocating.

“Maybe focus on getting us to the camp,” Azriel said, his voice like steel.

Cade just smirked, his confidence unshaken. “Relax, shadow boy. No harm in a little conversation. Or are you afraid she might like me better?”

Y/N couldn’t help the startled laugh that escaped her, though she quickly masked it with a cough. Azriel shot her a sharp look, his jaw tightening.

Raya, walking a few steps ahead, sighed audibly. “Cade, shut up before I gag you. You’re giving me a headache.”

“Aw, Raya, don’t be jealous,” Cade said with a mock pout. “There’s plenty of me to go around.”

“Gods, you’re insufferable,” Raya muttered, shaking her head. Then, turning to Y/N, she added, “Don’t let him fool you. He talks a lot, but it’s mostly nonsense.”

“I’m starting to get that,” Y/N replied dryly, though her lips twitched.

Azriel said nothing, his sharp gaze fixed on Cade like a hawk watching its prey. Y/N could practically feel the restraint it was taking for him not to lash out. She nudged him with her elbow, whispering, “Relax. He’s harmless.”

Azriel didn’t look at her, but his voice was low and taut. “I don’t like him.”

“Shocking,” Y/N muttered under her breath, earning her a sidelong glare.

Finally, the trees parted, revealing a sprawling camp nestled in a natural hollow. Tents of various sizes dotted the area, their canvas sides fluttering in the breeze. A large fire burned in the center, and several figures moved about, their movements purposeful and efficient. Despite its rough appearance, the camp was well-organized, and Y/N couldn’t help but be impressed.

“Welcome to our humble abode,” Cade said with a dramatic flourish. “It’s not much, but it keeps us alive.”

“Barely,” Raya muttered, striding past him.

Cade ignored her, his attention once again fixed on Y/N. “Come on, wildfire. Let me give you the grand tour.”

Y/N raised a brow. “Grand tour of tents and dirt? Tempting.”

“You’d be surprised what secrets this place holds,” Cade said with a wink. “Stick with me, and I’ll show you all the best spots.”

Before Y/N could respond, Azriel stepped forward. “We’re not splitting up.”

Raya turned to him, her expression hardening. “You are. The elder wants to speak with you, shadow boy.”

Azriel’s jaw clenched. “I don’t answer to your elder.”

“You do if you want our help,” Raya shot back, her tone leaving no room for argument.

Y/N placed a hand on Azriel’s arm, meeting his icy stare. “It’s fine. Go with her. I’ll be fine with Cade.”

Azriel’s gaze darkened, his voice a low growl. “No.”

Y/N sighed, exhaustion creeping into her voice. “Some distance from you would be good, Azriel. I’m tired of seeing your face.”

From somewhere behind her, Cade’s amused voice whispered, “Ugly one at that.”

Azriel moved so fast she barely had time to react, but Raya was quicker. She stepped between him and Cade, her voice sharp and commanding. “Enough. You’re going with me, whether you like it or not.”

Azriel’s glare could have melted steel, but Raya didn’t flinch. With a frustrated growl, he finally turned away, his shadows writhing around him.

Cade grinned, holding out a hand toward Y/N. “Shall we?”

Y/N hesitated, glancing at Azriel’s retreating form. He didn’t look back, but she could feel the tension radiating off him like a storm.

Taking a steadying breath, she turned back to Cade. “Lead the way.”

Azriel followed Raya through the winding paths of the camp, his strides measured but laced with a tension he couldn’t shake. His shadows rippled restlessly around him, curling and unfurling like they too sensed the storm brewing inside him.

Cade’s smirking face lingered in his mind, every smug word replaying over and over like a taunt. His hands clenched into fists at his sides, the urge to turn back and rip the grin off that idiot’s face almost overwhelming. But it wasn’t Cade that truly haunted him—it was the way Y/N had looked at him.

Her faint amusement. The way she’d allowed Cade’s attention, even if she didn’t encourage it.

Why did that bother him so much?

Azriel ground his teeth, the questions cutting deep as he walked. Why did it matter if she found Cade’s banter entertaining? Or if she thought Cade was charming? Hell, she probably did. Cade was... Cade. Confident, carefree, and the type of male who wore his charm like a damn badge of honor.

Azriel’s steps faltered.

Maybe she’d be happier with someone like that. Someone who could smile easily and joke without shadows clouding every word. Someone who wasn’t... him.

No.

The thought sliced through his mind like a whip, swift and brutal. The idea of her with anyone else made his chest tighten painfully, his shadows darken dangerously. Cade. Any male. It didn’t matter. None of them deserved her.

She could only ever be—

Azriel froze mid-thought, his breath catching as the realization clawed at him. With me.

His mind reeled, the emotions swirling in a storm of jealousy, fury, and something he refused to name. How had it come to this? How had she embedded herself so deeply into him that even the thought of her entertaining another male made him want to burn the world to ash?

It wasn’t fair. He wasn’t supposed to feel like this—not again.

Azriel’s jaw tightened, guilt twisting in his gut. He didn’t deserve this—her. She deserved better. Someone who could offer her light and laughter, not shadows and scars. Not pain and betrayal.

And yet, despite knowing all of that, the selfish part of him—the foolish part of him—wanted her anyway.

“Trouble in paradise?” Raya’s voice cut through his spiraling thoughts, dry and laced with amusement.

Azriel blinked, his head snapping toward her. He hadn’t realized she’d been watching him.

“Not in the mood,” he muttered, his tone sharper than intended.

Raya snorted. “You’re walking around like someone stole your favorite dagger. Let me guess: it’s about your lovely companion and Cade’s endless charm.”

Azriel’s shadows flared before he could stop them, and Raya laughed, shaking her head.

“Thought so,” she said. “Don’t worry, shadow boy. Cade’s an idiot, but he’s harmless. Mostly.”

“Mostly?” Azriel asked, his voice low, his shadows darkening further.

Raya waved a hand dismissively. “He talks a lot, but he’s not stupid. He knows when to back off... usually.” She glanced at him, her tone turning serious. “You should trust her. She doesn’t seem like the type to be easily swayed.”

Azriel said nothing, his jaw tightening as they continued walking. Trust her? He did. But that didn’t mean he trusted Cade—or any male, for that matter.

They reached a small hut near the center of the camp, its wooden structure weathered but sturdy. Smoke curled lazily from a small chimney, and the faint scent of herbs and earth lingered in the air.

Raya pushed open the door without hesitation, motioning for Azriel to follow.

Inside, the space was warm and dimly lit, the walls lined with shelves overflowing with jars, trinkets, and scrolls. A low table sat in the center, surrounded by cushions, and an elderly figure hunched over it, her hands moving deftly as she sorted through a collection of dried leaves.

The elder looked up as they entered, her eyes sharp and knowing despite the deep lines that etched her face. Her hair was a striking silver, braided down her back, and her presence filled the room like a force of nature.

Raya spoke first, her words flowing in a language Azriel didn’t recognize. The elder responded in kind, her voice steady and measured, though her eyes never left Azriel.

Finally, Raya turned to him. “The elder will speak with you now. Try to be polite.”

With that, she left, closing the door behind her.

Azriel inclined his head slightly, stepping further into the room.

“You are not what I expected,” the elder said, her voice soft but carrying an unmistakable weight.

Azriel raised a brow. “And what did you expect?”

The elder smiled faintly, gesturing for him to sit. “A male less... shrouded.”

He didn’t move. “We won’t be staying long. I only need information on Malrik.”

The elder chuckled, a low, knowing sound. “Always so impatient, your kind. Sit, shadow boy. I am older than your parents combined, and I don’t have time for your posturing.”

Azriel’s eyes narrowed, but he sat, his shadows shifting uneasily. “Why are you helping us?”

The elder leaned back, studying him with an intensity that made his skin prickle. “Because Malrik is dangerous, and you would not be here unless you had reason to stop him.”

Azriel hesitated, weighing his words carefully. Finally, he said, “He’s gathering forces, planning something larger.”

The elder nodded slowly. “You are right to be wary. Malrik has aligned himself with dark forces—forces that crave power and destruction. He is not a simple mercenary. He is a predator, and his sights are set on far more than this forest.”

“Where is he?” Azriel asked, his voice taut.

The elder’s expression darkened. “North of here, beyond the river. He has a stronghold hidden in the cliffs. But be warned—his forces are not easily overcome.”

Azriel nodded, his mind already calculating their next move. “Thank you for the information.”

The elder’s gaze softened slightly. “Be careful, shadow boy. The path you walk is treacherous, and the stakes are higher than you realize.”

Azriel didn’t respond, rising to his feet.

“You and your companion may stay here for the night,” the elder added. “But do not linger. The longer you stay, the more dangerous it becomes.”

With a curt nod, Azriel left the hut, his mind a whirlwind of plans and unresolved emotions.

He had left Y/N alone with Cade for far too long.

Y/n’s laughter had been constant throughout the tour, a sound she hadn’t realized she’d missed so much. Cade’s charisma was infectious, his humor weaving through the air like a gentle breeze, pushing aside the heavy thoughts that always loomed in her mind. For the first time in what felt like forever, there was no Azriel, no Malrik, no looming threats. There was just Cade, a bright presence, bringing lightness to her soul that she hadn’t known she needed.

Every joke Cade made felt like a small reprieve, each laugh an escape from the oppressive heaviness of her reality. His voice was like a soothing melody, lifting her spirits with every word he spoke, each playful comment distracting her from the constant weight of responsibility and turmoil. She had almost forgotten what it was like to simply be, to not be at war with herself or the world around her.

As the tour wound to its end, Cade finally turned to her with a grin, his hands brushing against his jacket as if closing a book.

"And that, my lady, is the grand tour," he declared, bowing dramatically. "Voila, your room, your kingdom."

Y/n’s laughter bubbled up again, and she felt a little lighter, a little freer. She didn’t even realize how deeply his presence had begun to impact her until this moment—until the joy had settled over her like a warm, comforting blanket.

But then, something shifted. Cade’s hand, warm and playful, slid around her waist. The movement was casual, natural, as if they had known each other for ages. Y/n stiffened for a brief moment—until the sharp chill of a shadow cut through the air.

Before she could even process the change, a blast of dark power pierced the moment, and Cade was forced to recoil. The sudden pain contorted his face as he jerked his hand back, clutching at it. Y/n's breath caught in her throat, her eyes flashing to the source.

Azriel.

He moved toward them with a deadly quiet, his presence like an icy storm sweeping over the area. His eyes locked onto Cade, and the space between them froze in an instant. Y/n felt the pulse of tension in the air as Azriel’s gaze bore through Cade, his jaw clenched, the coldness radiating from him sending a chill that had nothing to do with the temperature.

"Cade, are you alright?" Y/n found herself asking instinctively, her hand reaching for him, wanting to help.

Cade, ever the charmer, brushed off his injury with a smile, despite the clear wince of pain. "I’m fine. No need to worry, my lady. See? Hardly a scratch."

But Y/n was already turning, irritation bubbling under her skin as she faced Azriel. His expression was unreadable, his icy demeanor masking something far darker lurking underneath.

"Azriel," she began, her voice sharp with an edge of frustration, "why the hell would you—?"

Before she could finish, Azriel was already cutting her off, his voice low and controlled. "They gave us a room. Let’s go."

Y/n’s heart skipped a beat at his commanding tone. The words were like a cold slap to her face, a harsh reminder of who Azriel was—what he was capable of.

"No," she shot back, standing firm. "I’m staying here with Cade. He showed me to my room."

Azriel’s eyes darkened, his voice slipping into a low growl. "You’ll be coming with me." His gaze flickered to Cade, a clear challenge in his eyes, and it wasn’t long before Cade, seemingly unaffected, fired back.

"A room close to mine," he stated, his grin mischievous, as though taunting Azriel to escalate the situation.

Y/n’s heart twisted. She could feel the storm brewing between them, the undeniable pull of their conflict—a storm that had been building for far too long. And then, just like that, the tension snapped. Azriel didn’t wait. He lunged forward, a blur of motion, and before anyone could react, he had Cade pinned against the wall. The air crackled with the promise of violence, and Y/n’s pulse raced as she realized just how far things had already gone.

"Cade!" Y/n shouted, rushing forward, but it was Raya who managed to break them apart, her voice commanding as she barked orders.

"Get back, Y/n! Now!" Raya’s voice was like a whip, cutting through the chaos.

Y/n hesitated only for a moment before she grabbed Azriel’s arm, pulling him away with surprising strength as Raya moved to separate Cade from the mess. The citizens had gathered, whispering, eyes wide, watching the spectacle unfold, and Y/n could feel their stares on her as if she were the cause of all this madness.

"Get him away," Raya demanded, her voice cold and stern. Y/n’s own anger flared as she guided Azriel, pushing him towards the room that had been assigned to them.

When they finally reached the door, Y/n slammed it shut behind them, her breath heavy with a mix of anger and frustration. Azriel, ever the master of control, seemed unfazed on the surface, but she could see the simmering fury beneath his calm mask. He was coiled tight, ready to strike—at her, at anyone who dared to challenge him.

Y/n was silent for a moment, her back pressed against the door as she tried to steady herself. When she turned to face him, she saw the tension in his jaw, the tightening of his fists.

"Azriel," she started, her voice quieter than before, though the fury still laced her words. "You can’t just... you can’t keep doing this."

He met her gaze with the cold, deadly calm that he always wore, but she could see it in his eyes—the hunger, the need for control, the need to make her bend to him.

And it disgusted her.

"Sit down," she demanded, her tone sharp as she moved past him to find medical supplies. "You’re hurt."

Azriel didn’t argue, though there was a flicker of something dangerous in his eyes. He sat on the chair, his body tense, the only sign of his earlier aggression still visible in the way he held himself.

Y/n moved toward him, her hands working to gather the supplies. The silence between them stretched, heavy and thick with unspoken words. As she gently touched his wounds, applying the ointment with careful precision, the moment stretched out into something… more.

"You’re still the same," she whispered, barely audible, her hands hesitating as she met his gaze. "Nothing has changed."

Azriel's voice was low and edged with a dangerous kind of amusement. "What do you mean by that?"

Y/n leaned down to tend to the injury on his shoulder, her breath warm against his skin. As she reached to dab at the wound, her hand brushed across his lips. The world seemed to still, the air thick with tension. Azriel’s gaze locked on her, heat swirling in his dark eyes. He leaned forward, his lips brushing against her finger, and before she could react, his tongue darted out, catching the tip of her finger.

She gasped, her body freezing as the sensation of his touch ignited something inside her that she had thought long buried. Her thoughts scattered, and for a moment, she forgot herself.

"Divine," Azriel murmured, his voice thick, the word leaving a trail of fire in its wake.

Her breath caught in her throat. No. She would not fall for this again. Not after everything.

Y/n jerked back, pulling her hand away from him, her heart hammering in her chest. "Let me go," she whispered, her voice shaky with a mixture of rage and something darker.

Azriel reached for her again, but this time, she was quicker. "You’re not getting away from me that easily," he muttered, though the dark hunger in his eyes made her heart twist.

But she wouldn’t let him. She wouldn’t fall for it. She wouldn’t let herself believe that she could forgive him, not again, not after everything he had done.

"Why?" she spat suddenly, her voice low but raw. "Why did you care, Azriel? Why does it matter to you now?"

Azriel’s expression froze, his eyes narrowing. "What the hell are you talking about?"

Y/n's words spilled out, as if they had been building for years, for lifetimes, ready to erupt.

"Because of you," she hissed, the words cutting through the silence like a blade. "Because you banished me. You took everything from me, Azriel. It was because of you that I ended up in Malrik’s path. He raped me. Is that what you wanted to hear? You wanted to hear the truth, Azriel? There it is."

The room fell silent. Azriel’s body froze, his eyes wide with shock and something else—something almost darker than fury.

"Wh—what?" Azriel’s voice was cold, barely a whisper, and she could hear the tremble in it.

Y/n’s gaze hardened. She would not give him the satisfaction of her pain. Not again.

"You heard me," she said, her voice breaking only slightly. "Forget it, Azriel. I don’t need your pity. I never wanted it from you."

Azriel’s eyes burned, but she wasn’t looking for the comfort of his gaze. She was too far gone. Too broken.

"Do you care now, Azriel?" she mocked, laughing bitterly. "After everything? After you helped ruin my life?"

Azriel took a step toward her, his expression a mixture of confusion and anger.

"Don’t test me," he warned, his voice dangerously low. "What did you just say?"

Y/n didn’t answer. She didn’t need to. The damage was already done.

With one final, cold laugh, she turned on her heel, heading for the door. "You don’t deserve to know."

And with that, she left him standing in the silence of the room—his world slowly crumbling around him.

Azriel’s fists were clenched so tightly that his nails were digging into his palms, the pain a welcome distraction from the fury that churned through him. His mind raced, every thought tangled in a mess of rage, guilt, and self-loathing, each one more suffocating than the last. Malrik’s name burned through his veins like acid, every breath he took a reminder of the horror that had unfolded—the horror he had failed to stop. He could feel his body trembling with barely contained violence, a force ready to break free at the first opportunity. But it was not just Malrik’s face he saw when his mind closed in. It was hers.

Y/n.

He couldn’t escape the memory of her—her eyes wide, brimming with raw pain as she recounted the depths of what had happened to her. It was the sound of her voice, trembling, the way her hands had jerked away from him as though his touch had poisoned her. It was the coldness that had filled the space between them. It was the utter betrayal he had felt in her eyes, as though every part of her had been shattered by him. By him.

The realization gnawed at his insides like a feral beast. He had been so blind, so consumed by his own guilt and his obsession with keeping control, that he had failed her when she needed him the most. When she had needed him most.

And then, the worst part—the piece of his own tortured soul that he couldn't escape from. That night, when everything had gone wrong, when Y/n had needed someone to chase after her, someone to protect her, someone to care, he had stood there, frozen. Frozen.

His mind had screamed at him to go after her, to chase her down and hold her in his arms, to assure her that he would never let anyone hurt her again. But he hadn’t. He had stayed behind in that wretched room, wallowing in his guilt, knowing that he didn’t deserve to comfort her. He didn’t deserve her.

The thought was like a jagged knife in his heart. How could he, when he had failed her so utterly, so completely? He was the one who had let her down. He was the one who had failed to protect her, who had let the world hurt her.

His rage reached new heights as he thought of Malrik’s name again. The bastard. The monster. Malrik had taken something so precious from her, and Azriel had been too weak, too much of a coward to stop it.

Not again.

Azriel’s chest heaved as the thought surged forward, becoming his singular focus. He would make Malrik pay. He would make him suffer in ways that no man—no monster—could endure. The bastard would feel every single second of pain that Y/n had felt. And more. The thought of what Malrik had done to her filled him with a fury so overwhelming that it threatened to break the walls of control Azriel had built around himself.

Azriel didn’t sleep that night. His mind wouldn’t allow him to. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw her face again—the raw emotion in her eyes, the betrayal, the pain. The tears that had gathered there but never fell.

Instead, he planned. He planned every agonizing moment of Malrik’s downfall. Every strike, every word he would say to break him. He would make sure Malrik understood what it felt like to be stripped of everything, to have everything he had ever known taken from him in the most brutal of ways.

But even as he planned, even as he dreamed of tearing Malrik apart, a part of him knew—knew—he wasn’t doing it for vengeance. He wasn’t doing it to make the world right again. No. He was doing it for Y/n. He was doing it because she needed him, even if she couldn’t see that right now. Because she would need him again, whether she admitted it or not. He would be there, in the shadows, ready to protect her when she was ready to accept him.

That thought—her needing him again—kept him from completely losing himself. He would keep her safe, even from himself. Even if she never looked at him the same way again, even if she never forgave him, he would keep her safe. That was the only promise he could make.

Morning came slowly. The dim light of dawn crept through the window, casting long, slanted shadows across the room. Azriel felt the weight of the night’s torment lift, but only slightly. His chest still ached with the burden of guilt, but he knew there was work to be done. There was always work to be done.

He stood, stretching his arms above his head, the tension still lingering in his body as he gathered himself. His heart thundered in his chest as his eyes fell upon the door.

He had promised to keep her safe. He had failed her once, but not again.

With one last glance around the room, Azriel stepped otside, his footsteps silent as he moved down the road. The cool air of the early morning settled on his skin, the silence broken only by the distant sounds of the camp stirring to life.

He knew she would be out there. He could feel her. He could sense her presence in the air like a faint pull at his soul, the connection between them still there, even after everything. He would find her.

And as he rounded a big tree, he saw her.

Y/n.

Her back was to him, her posture stiff, her shoulders hunched in a way that made his stomach twist. She sat on a log near the fire pit, Raya beside her. Neither of them looked particularly happy. Azriel could see it—the tension in her shoulders, the way she barely seemed to move, the way her eyes flicked to the ground as if avoiding something. It was clear she wasn’t okay.

Raya spoke, her voice too soft to be heard from where Azriel stood, but Y/n didn’t answer. Not with words. She barely moved. Azriel’s heart clenched at the sight. She looked so fragile, so broken, and it was all his fault.

His anger flared again, but this time, it was directed inward. At himself.

He wasn’t enough for her. He had never been enough. He had always tried to push away his feelings, tried to convince himself that his duty to his people, his loyalty to the shadows, was enough to make up for the coldness he hid behind. But it hadn’t been. It had never been.

And now, here she was, sitting there, broken and lost, because of him.

But he couldn’t let this continue. He couldn’t let her be alone in this. No matter what she thought of him, no matter how much she hated him, he would not leave her like this.

She would never be alone again.

Stepping forward, he moved with the silence of the shadows that had always been his ally, coming up behind her.

Y/n didn’t notice him approach, and for a moment, he simply stood there, watching her. His heart twisted in his chest, but his gaze hardened. There would be no more hesitation. No more hiding behind his guilt.

"Y/n," he said, his voice low, barely a whisper.

Her shoulders stiffened, and she turned slowly to look at him. Her eyes, dull and filled with something he couldn’t place, met his, and for a moment, the world seemed to stop.

She said nothing, and yet everything in her screamed at him.

But Azriel didn’t look away. Not this time. Not when she needed him most.

"I swear to you," he said, his voice low and laced with a promise, "Malrik will pay. And no matter what you think of me, no matter how much you despise me, I will keep you safe."

She didn’t answer, but the faintest flicker in her eyes told him that she had heard him. It was a small step, but it was a step.

And it was enough.

Azriel stood there, resolute. He would make Malrik pay. He would make the bastard regret ever laying a finger on her.

And as the first rays of sunlight crept across the horizon, he knew—he would always fight for her.

No matter what.

Y/n’s steps were slow, measured, her body almost dragging behind the others. The forest around her seemed distant, even though it was right in front of her. The towering trees, the chirping birds, the rustle of leaves—they were just noises in the background, blending into the dullness of everything else. There was a weight in her chest, one that felt like it was pressing down on her lungs, suffocating her.

It was an unfamiliar kind of silence. The quiet between her and Azriel was thicker than it had ever been, and for once, she didn’t even have the energy to make some biting remark, to lash out. The fire that usually burned inside her, the defiance, the sharpness—it was gone.

Everything felt numb. Everything.

Azriel had been silent too, his usual stoic expression betraying a deep strain that had only grown worse over the hours. She could feel his gaze on her, though she didn’t dare look back at him. She couldn’t. The thought of meeting his eyes—of seeing that guilt, that sorrow written across his face—was almost too much.

She hadn’t said a word since they’d left camp. Neither of them had. The only sounds between them were their footsteps on the forest floor, the soft crackling of twigs underfoot. She was surprised she hadn’t heard Azriel speak, to ask her something, to break the silence. But he hadn’t. Instead, his presence lingered behind her like an invisible weight, an oppressive force that made every breath she took feel shallow.

Eventually, they reached a clearing. The sunlight filtered through the canopy above, casting dappled light over the soft grass. A small lake stretched out before them, its surface as still as the air around it. It was almost eerie, the quietness of it all, and Y/n found herself standing there for a moment longer than she intended, as if waiting for something—anything—to change.

Azriel, however, came to an abrupt stop, causing Y/n to halt as well. He turned to face her, his eyes flicking to the water briefly before meeting her gaze. His jaw tightened, the lines of his face hardening in that way they always did when he was deep in thought.

"We stop here," he said, his voice quiet but firm. "Malrik’s place is close. We need to make the final plan."

Y/n just nodded. She didn’t care. She didn’t feel anything. The words fell flat in her mind, the weight of the situation not even penetrating her numbness. Azriel’s gaze lingered on her for a moment, his brow furrowed, like he was waiting for something. But she didn’t offer anything. Not a word. Not a glance. Nothing.

Azriel sighed deeply. It was a sound full of weariness and frustration, and when she finally looked up at him, she saw something she hadn’t expected—guilt. A deep, gnawing kind of guilt that twisted at the corners of his eyes.

He opened his mouth to speak, then closed it again, running a hand through his dark hair in frustration. His eyes dropped to the ground, then flicked back to hers.

"Y/n," he began, his voice low, almost too quiet, "I know what I did… I can’t fix it, but I need you to understand." He paused, visibly gathering his thoughts, as though the weight of his words was more than he could bear.

She stood still, her arms crossed over her chest, her gaze fixed firmly on him. She was cold, distant—detached. It wasn’t that she wanted to ignore him. It was just… easier this way. It hurt too much to feel anything else.

"I made the choice to protect the rest of the team," Azriel continued, his voice hoarse with regret. "I didn’t believe you, but I did it to protect the network, the people we worked with. I… I spread the lie that you were a traitor to keep suspicion off of everyone else. To keep the integrity of the mission intact."

His words hung in the air between them, each one a sharp reminder of the betrayal. But Y/n wasn’t surprised. She didn’t even feel the sting anymore. She had lived with it for so long, she had become numb to the pain of it all.

Azriel’s voice faltered when he saw her reaction—or lack of one. She didn’t flinch. She didn’t react the way he had hoped. Instead, her eyes were flat, distant, as if the words didn’t matter anymore.

"That day…" Azriel’s breath caught in his throat. "I’m sorry. I’m so sorry for not believing you. I thought—"

Y/n’s eyes flicked to him, the coldness in her gaze sharper than any dagger. She cut him off before he could finish.

"Really?" she asked, her voice flat, a dull edge to the words that cut deeper than any shout. "That’s all you have to say? That’s how little you believed in me, after everything I did for you? After everything I gave you?"

Her words were like ice, and each syllable seemed to strike Azriel like a hammer against his chest. He opened his mouth to respond, but nothing came out at first. The guilt was so thick in his throat he couldn’t find the words. He had hurt her so deeply, and now, there was nothing he could do to make it right.

"You branded me a traitor," Y/n continued, her voice cold and cutting. "I was forced to flee, branded and cast out, with no home, no life to go back to. And do you know what happened then? Do you know what happened when you turned your back on me?" She paused, her eyes now dark and distant as if she were reliving the memories in that very moment.

Azriel’s chest tightened. He could see the pain there, in her eyes, even though her face remained an emotionless mask.

"Malrik," she said, her voice almost a whisper, the name like venom on her tongue. "He found me, in my weakest state, when I had nothing left. He took advantage of me, twisted me into something I wasn’t. And all of it—everything that happened—was because you couldn’t believe in me."

Azriel winced, his entire body recoiling from the harshness of her words, the weight of her truth. He had never wanted to see her like this, to hear her speak of everything he had done to her. He had thought, all this time, that his actions were justified. That they were for the greater good. But now, standing in front of her, all he saw was the destruction he had wrought.

"I didn’t mean for any of it to happen," Azriel whispered, his voice breaking. "I never wanted you to go through that. I was wrong. I failed you, Y/n, and I can’t—I can’t fix it. I just want you to know… I’m sorry. I’m so sorry."

Y/n stared at him for a long moment, her eyes cold, unyielding. Her lips pressed into a thin line. She said nothing for a moment, letting the silence hang heavy in the air.

And then, in a voice that was quiet, but somehow colder than anything Azriel had ever heard, she spoke again.

"Sorry doesn’t change anything, Azriel," she said, her words cutting through the silence. "Sorry doesn’t fix what you did. Sorry doesn’t give me back the life you took from me."

Her gaze flicked to the ground, and Azriel’s heart shattered at the hollow emptiness in her voice.

"I don’t need your apologies," she whispered, more to herself than to him. "I needed you to believe in me. I needed you to trust me. But you didn’t."

And with that, she turned away, walking toward the edge of the lake, her steps distant, her posture rigid with that coldness that now seemed to define her.

Azriel stood there, motionless, the weight of her words sinking into him like a thousand blades. He had never felt such crushing guilt in his life. He had never felt so utterly lost.

But Y/n didn’t look back. Not even once.

(SMUT STARTS HERE)

Suddenly, she sighed before saying, "I hate you but I also need you."

And the next thing she knew, she was taking her clothes off, feeling his gaze behind her as she lazily entered the water. She hated how even after all of this, she wanted his gaze on her and only her.

She was still not looking at him, turned away so her back was facing him in the water as she stared into the other side of the lake. "Let's make the mistake of last night once more. After all, we won't be seeing each other once this mission's done. I don't need your useless pity. All I need is to use you now, just like you used me then."

It meant nothing, it would cut him deep and she didn't care.

Suddenly, she felt his naked chest pressing against her as he lened in to whisper in her ear, "Use me then."

Y/n's breath hitched, a tinge of surprise fluttering inside her despite the cold, calculated mask she had been wearing. She hadn’t expected him to move, to be this close again. But Azriel, ever the shadow, was right there—his presence like a storm against the stillness of the lake. His voice, a low rasp, sent a shiver down her spine. She didn't want to acknowledge it, but she couldn't ignore the way her body reacted to his proximity. She hated it. She hated that even in this mess, even in the aftermath of betrayal, her mind still wanted him, still needed him.

"Use me then," Azriel repeated, his words a dark promise that neither comforted nor threatened. It was like he was daring her, pushing her to go further, to test the boundaries of the agony between them. He knew this was all she had left—the anger, the coldness. The way she lashed out, using her words like blades, trying to push him further away.

Her pulse quickened, but Y/n kept her face impassive, her gaze hard as she stared across the lake. The water rippled lazily around her, reflecting the overcast sky, the light barely reaching through the trees. It was all so calm—so still. And yet, inside her chest, the storm raged.

He moved then, his hand sliding around her waist, pulling her against him with a gentleness that contrasted the tension in his body. His lips brushed the back of her neck, a fleeting, tender touch that nearly broke her. But Y/n stayed still, her pulse pounding in her ears.

"I’m not leaving you," Azriel murmured, his voice soft but fierce. "Not like before. Not this time."

The words hit her harder than she’d expected, and for the briefest moment, the coldness in her heart cracked open.

But she wouldn’t let it. Not now. Not ever.

"Let’s make that mistake," she said again, her voice flat, unfeeling. "But don’t think it’ll change anything."

Azriel’s arms tightened around her, his lips brushing against her ear one last time. "I never thought it would."

And before she knew it, his hand went lower, reaching her core, causing a small gasp to leave her lips as her hand came over his arm, gripping it.

He lazily massaged her clit and she suddenly felt aware of his largee cock teasing her from behind too. And as if on cue, he entered her from the back at the same time as his finger entered her from the front.

Y/n couldn't hold the moan that escaped her lips after that, her grip tightening on his arm as azriel began thrusting into her from behind while his mouth started sucking and kissing on her neck.

Then, she felt a second finger dip into her as he began fucking her faster, his pace quickening as her moans grew louder.

"Fuck, just like that, keep moaning," Azriel said through his own growls as she leaned her head back on him for support and thats when he took the chance to capture and mark her lips.

The kiss was brutal, it was as if he wanted nothing more than to eat her alive, to forever be joined with her, to imprint himself on her. The water was rippling wildly with their movements and when he felt her clenching around his cock and fingers, he knew she was close.

But then-- then she did the unthinkable.

Azriel suddenly felt his mind go blank when Y/N reached her hand out and touched that part of his wings. Just the right area of his nerves to make him weak in the knees. With a loud groan he couldn't stop himself and released inside her, Y/N following right after him.

Their ragged breaths were all that could be heard as Y/N fell back on to his strong hold for support.

(SMUT ENDS HERE)

An hour later, the silence between them felt heavier than ever after what had transpired. The air was thick with unspoken words, emotions both raw and tumultuous swirling around them.

Y/N lay back on the soft earth beside the water’s edge, her breath still shallow from the intensity. She stared up at the sky, the clouds slowly floating away. But it wasn’t the sky that had her attention—her mind was clouded with thoughts of what had just happened. The distance between them, once so palpable, had blurred. And now, in the aftermath, she felt more lost than ever.

Azriel sat beside her, his posture tense, but there was something else—something softer in the way he looked at her, though he remained silent. He didn’t touch her, didn’t speak. But she could feel him there, present, his very presence suffocating her thoughts.

She wanted to speak. To scream, to confront him, to demand answers. But the words wouldn't come. The anger and frustration she’d been holding inside for so long—since before everything had spiraled—felt heavier now. But it wasn’t just the anger. It was confusion. Confusion about herself, about him. About what they had just shared.

He finally broke the silence, his voice low and rough. "Y/N…" he whispered her name, and she flinched slightly, though she didn’t look at him. "I—"

"Don’t," she interrupted, her voice barely above a whisper. "I don’t want your apology. I don’t want your explanations."

There was a long pause, the kind that felt like an eternity. Her words hung in the air between them, but she didn’t regret them. She couldn’t. Not after everything.

He remained silent, his gaze fixed somewhere in the distance. She could feel the weight of his stare, but she refused to meet it. She didn’t trust herself to look at him without feeling something she wasn’t ready to face.

After what felt like hours, he spoke again. "You can hate me all you want," he said quietly, his voice strained. "But I’ll never stop trying to protect you. Even if you don’t want it."

Y/N sat up, her gaze flickering over to him, though her heart twisted at the sincerity in his tone. "Why?" she asked softly, her voice trembling slightly despite herself. "Why now? After everything?"

He turned to her, his expression unreadable, though the shadows in his eyes seemed to deepen. "I don’t know. I don’t have all the answers. But I do know that I can’t walk away. Not from you."

Her heart pounded in her chest, and for a moment, she thought she might fall apart. Instead, she swallowed, her walls—barely held up to begin with—beginning to crack.

"You think that changes anything?" she said, her voice strong, though her chest felt tight with emotion. "It doesn’t. We can’t undo what’s been done."

Azriel’s eyes flickered, his jaw tightening. "I never expected you to forgive me," he said, voice low. "But I’ll make sure you’re never alone again. Even if that means staying out of your way."

Y/N turned away, her emotions swirling. She wasn’t ready for this conversation. Not yet. Not when everything still felt so fresh, so painful.

But in that moment, something shifted—something she couldn't name or understand. A part of her knew that this... whatever this was between them... would never be simple. But for the first time in a long while, she wasn’t sure she wanted it to be.

"Let’s finish this mission," she said quietly, her voice shaking slightly. "And then... we'll figure out where we stand."

Azriel nodded, but she could feel the weight of his gaze on her, even as she stood up, brushing the dirt from her clothes. The mission. The chaos. It all still loomed ahead of them, and neither of them was ready to face it just yet.

But as they walked away from the lake, side by side, something unspoken had changed. They hadn’t fixed everything. Far from it. But they’d come closer to understanding each other, to acknowledging that whatever had happened between them—it wasn’t over.

Not yet.

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Taglist: @darkbloodsly @moonfawnx @clementine111002 @galaxystern08

[burningembers91]

Cabin in the Woods - Hwang Jun-Ho x Fem!Reader

Tagging: @snixx2088 and @bananaminn

Follow up piece to:

Sleeping with the Enemy

The Gangster’s Wife

Escape Plan

Synopsis: You and Jun-Ho are on the run. But with no money, and a warrant out for his arrest, where will you turn?

A/N: the amount of time I spent googling coastal towns in South Korea isn’t even funny. If writing fan fiction is good for anything, it’s been amazing at expanding my knowledge of the language, culture and the cities and town outside of Seoul 😅

Also, I write most of my fics in my notes app on my phone and it’s not until I’ve read and reread each fic, and then published that I noticed the wild errors in my spelling and grammar 🫠

The cabin was freezing, the icy winter air blowing in through the cracks under the door. Hwang Jun-Ho hadn’t dared to light a fire, just in case the smoke could be seen. You’d been hiding out in the old hunting cabin for just over two weeks now, the two of you hunkered under blankets for warmth. You’d been surviving off tinned food and ramen, boiling water from a nearby stream on a camping stove he had in the back of his car.

He’d passed this cabin countless times as a kid when he went on hikes with his father. It had been in a bad state then, and was even worse now. He wasn’t entirely sure what was holding the old building together, the wooden walls groaning at the slightest of breezes.

He was worried about your health, your bruises healing steadily but there were underlying issues you needed checked out. Jun-Ho was sure your ribs were cracked, the whimpers of pain you elicited whenever you moved tugging at his heart.

A warrant for his arrest had been issued by the police three days after he helped you escape. He’d been in a local convenience store when he saw the news report, his face splashed all over the TV, falsely claiming that he’d kidnapped you from your home. His worst fears had been confirmed in that instant; someone in the police was working for your husband.

There was no way he’d be a wanted man if the department was clean, but he’d insulted your husband, had made him look weak by saving you. He had no idea who the dirty cop could be, but he didn’t have time to worry about it now.

Food was running low, and you needed more pain killers. He needed to take you a hospital to get your injuries checked out, but it was too risky so close to the city. Neither of you had your passports, and even if you had, escaping the country wasn’t an option with his arrest warrant and no money. You’d have to lay low, bide your time and figure out an escape plan. Jun-Ho knew he’d need to think of something soon. You couldn’t stay here much longer; he wasn’t sure you’d made it another week.

“How are you feeling?” He asked, gently stroking your cheek as you lay huddled under a blanket.

“I’m ok,” you smiled, your lips cracked and dry from your injuries and the harsh weather. He wasn’t sure how you managed to stay so strong, how you always had a smile for him despite the pain you were in.

“We’re going to need to get moving soon,” he told you, coming to sit with an old map he’d found stuffed in a drawer within the cabin. “Where do you think we should go?”

“Somewhere by the sea,” you said quietly, your voice hoarse with pain. You loved the sea, loved the calmness that came with the sound of the waves. You poured over the map, your bodies pushed together for warmth, as you decided where to begin your life.

The next morning, you headed out just before the sun rose, bundling into Jun-Ho’s car. He’d removed the licence plates last night, knowing they’d be looking for his vehicle. He’d have to find a new one along the way, but with no money and a wanted sign above his head, it wasn’t going to be easy.

You’d settled on a small seaside town of Samcheok. It was far away from Seoul and the perfect place for you to start again. You weren’t sure how long you’d be able to stay hidden for, but Jun-Ho would do everything he could to keep you from harms way. He still couldn’t believe this was how your life together was beginning, on the run.

You held his hand tightly as he manoeuvred his car through the back roads, neither of you daring to breathe until you were far away from the city.

The further you got, the easier you found it to breathe, and the lighter your heart felt. Your husband had tried to break you, but he’d failed. He’d pushed you into the arms of a man who loved you more than he ever could.

Despite the fact you had no money, no home, nothing but the clothes on your back, you’d never been happier.

[airybcby]

Hiii!! I love your Blue Lock writing sm! I’ve fallen down such a rabbit hole in the fandom recently so when I just saw your post I knew I had to ask!!😭

I was wondering if I could make a request for the Fate Event for Kaiser or Shido with the red string of fate

Thank you so much💗

Hi Hi! Sorry it's taken me a bit to get to this, I've had personal stuff and school is kicking my butt, but ofc!

I decided to do Shido bc I love writing for him so much :)

Shido Ryusei x The Red String of Fate

જ⁀♡⊹｡° guess i'm stuck forever

♡ a/n — for my 800 follower event!

♡ content — shidou ryusei x gn! reader, gn! reader, reader has strong feelings (slight hatred) for shidou , shidou is a little shit, red string soulmate AU, soulmate AU, proposal (fake), set when reader & shidou are at least 21+

♡ synopsis — You wanted to be mad, but the pull of the red string and the ridiculous sparkle in Shidou Ryusei's eyes made it hard to stay angry. Maybe this was destiny’s idea of a joke.

You weren’t even supposed to be at this game.

Soccer wasn’t your thing—never had been, never would be—but your best friend had begged you to come. “PXG games are legendary,” they’d said, eyes sparkling. “And Shidou Ryusei is unreal.”

Shidou Ryusei. The name sounded vaguely familiar, but it wasn’t until you saw him on the field that you felt the strange tug in your chest—one that sent your mind spiraling back to high school.

Back then, your friend had dragged you to your school’s rivalry game against another local powerhouse. You hadn’t cared about the match, but you remembered a player on the rival team. His bleached hair had made him stand out, as did the almost animalistic way he played. Back then, the red string around your finger had pulled faintly in his direction.

You hadn’t thought much of it. It was easy to dismiss soulmates as a romanticized idea, and besides, you figured the string would pull more strongly if you were ever truly meant to meet your soulmate. But now, standing in the packed stadium, you couldn’t ignore it anymore.

The red string was practically thrumming with energy, pulling taut in one unmistakable direction: straight toward Shidou Ryusei.

He moved across the pitch like a force of nature, reckless and magnetic. Every goal he scored sent the crowd into a frenzy, and though you weren’t a soccer fan, you couldn’t tear your eyes away from him.

“This has to be a mistake,” you muttered under your breath, clutching your hand to your chest as if that would stop the string from tugging.

Your friend, too caught up in the game, didn’t notice your unease. “Isn’t he insane? No one plays like Shidou!”

You didn’t answer. You couldn’t.

After the game ended and PXG secured their victory, your friend got swept up in the post-match celebrations. That left you standing awkwardly on the sidelines, the buzzing in your finger making it impossible to leave.

It wasn’t logical, but you found yourself heading toward the players’ exit. You told yourself it was just curiosity—that you needed to see if this pull was real. But the closer you got, the stronger the string became, like it had a mind of its own.

You pushed your way to the barricades, where a crowd of fans had already gathered, phones in hand and security guards stationed to keep everyone in line. You tried to blend in, though you weren’t even sure what you were hoping to accomplish.

And then, everything changed.

A commotion rippled through the crowd as Shidou Ryusei himself appeared. He was shirtless, his jersey draped casually over his shoulder, and his grin was nothing short of feral.

You froze, your breath catching in your throat.

The red string between you felt like it was about to snap with tension. And when Shidou’s gaze landed on you, his grin widened into something even wilder.

You heard mumbled words of the security guards, one telling him to get back and change while the other was yelling at the rabid fangirls and asking Shidou what he was doing.

He pointed directly at you.

“Getting my love, duh!” he said proudly, loud enough for the whole crowd to hear.

The world seemed to stop.

You gawked at him, mortified as every pair of eyes turned in your direction.

“I’m not—” you stammered, but the words wouldn’t come out.

Shidou was already moving toward you, weaving through the stunned crowd with a single-minded focus. The intensity in his eyes was too much.

Panicked, you turned and ran.

Back in your room that night, you sat on your bed, staring at the red string wrapped around your finger. Your heart was still racing. You couldn’t believe what had happened—or that Shidou Ryusei had actually called you his love in front of hundreds of people.

Your phone buzzed on the nightstand. Frowning, you grabbed it, only to freeze when you saw the message from an unknown number:

Running won’t break the string, you know. ;) – R.S.

Your stomach flipped. How did he even get your number?

You debated ignoring it, but the string’s pull wouldn’t let you rest. Finally, after a long moment, you replied:

What do you want?

The response was instant.

To meet you, obviously. Tomorrow, 2 PM. I’ll send the location. Don’t run this time. :P

You weren’t sure why you agreed to meet him. Maybe it was the string pulling you forward. Maybe it was the fact that his message somehow felt more like a challenge than a request.

Either way, you found yourself sitting at an outdoor café, nervously tapping your fingers against the table. When Shidou arrived, he was just as chaotic as you remembered—swaggering in with that unhinged grin and a confidence that made your stomach churn.

“You showed up!” he said, plopping into the chair across from you. “Guess the string works after all.”

“You’re insane,” you muttered, crossing your arms. “I don’t even know you.”

“Not yet,” he shot back, leaning forward with a glint in his eyes. “But that’s the fun part. Soulmates, remember? We’ve got time to fix that.”

Before you could respond, he reached into his pocket, pulled out a small box, and dropped to one knee.

Your jaw dropped. “What the—are you proposing?”

“Obviously,” he said, like it was the most normal thing in the world. “Why waste time? We’re meant to be together anyway.”

“Excuse you? Get up! You’re embarrassing me!" The people around you, hands almost clasped together in a clap gawking at your rude answer.

"We don’t even know each other!” You weren't sure if you were telling that to yourself, Shidou, or the onlookers.

Shidou just laughed, slipping the ring back into his pocket as if it had all been a joke. But his grin told you he was entirely serious.

“Relax, babe. I’ll save the real proposal for when you actually fall for me. Won’t take long, though—I’m pretty irresistible.”

You glared at him, your face hot with embarrassment. “You’re impossible.”

“And you’re stuck with me,” he said, leaning back in his chair with a satisfied smirk.

You wanted to be mad, but the pull of the red string and the ridiculous sparkle in his eyes made it hard to stay angry. Maybe this was destiny’s idea of a joke. Or maybe… just maybe… it wasn’t.

wrote this really late at night so it isn't my fave

i hope you liked it!

likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated!

[loveandleases]

What kind of picture of MC (if any) would the ROs have as their wallpaper? And what's MC's number saved as? Rn and later on in a relationship stage?

I remember answering something similar last year, but I can't find the photos from then. So...just gonna do it again.

❤️ Cam - He tends to switch it up. Sometimes he would have a candid of MC that he totally didn't take because he thought they looked good. Or, it's a photo of the two of them. For holidays, it's a holiday photo. Ugly Sweaters for Xmas, a costume for halloween. Then a very random photo of Cam wearing bunny ears in some short shorts for Easter, while MC holds the carrot. (Cam had bet MC and they lost so.) Cam has MC saved under Red, but it can change due to player choice.

But relationship Cam... relationship Cam has a photo that he is so proud to display but his desire to have MC to himself refuses to let him.

It begins just below MC's nose and cuts off at the edge of their waist. A silk sheet lays draped across their body, its delicate texture contrasting with the raw marks he has painted on their skin. Bite marks and hickeys across the parts that are visible. His hand cups their chin gently but possessively, with one finger hooked slightly under their lip, tugging it down just enough to reveal the soft flesh within. MC's lips would be agape, lips swollen and flushed.

💙 G - They claim they don't have a single photo of MC, but they actually have several. Even one from graduation when they were no longer talking. They don't have MC's current number, (yet), but if they did it would be of MC asleep while in the library studying, or curled up in their bed. They would save MC's name as their nickname.

One option for relationship stage G is: "My once and always"

G would use the graduation photo. It was bittersweet because they hadn’t been the one to make MC laugh that day. And they hadn’t stuck around long enough to notice how their expression fell when they looked for them, only to realize G was already gone. No goodbye.

G had taken the photo when no one was looking, back when they thought they’d never have the chance to see them again. Despite their hurt and stubbornness, they’d given in to the desire to remember—to hold onto what MC looked like when their face lit up, the way they could make the world fade away.

G still looked at that photo sometimes, especially on bad days. Especially after running into MC on the street. Because no matter how much they wanted to believe MC hadn’t changed... they had. And knowing they hadn’t been there to witness it, to experience it alongside them, killed a little part of G every time.

💚 Kara - It's an old photo from back when they worked together. Probably taken when Kara dragged MC to a night of drinks after a long day of work. She had talked MC into allowing her to take a photo for social media, but once she saw it she decided against it and kept it for herself. She has MC saved as "Babes or Boss" (That last one is full sarcasm for crushing stage Kara.)

She thought MC looked very free, they didn't have the expectations of work, of their family, or of Chris and their upcoming nuptials. For once they looked like someone who could finally breathe. MC was a different person when they worked, there was a quiet confidence in them back then. Not like now, and no matter how much she doesn't want to think/admit MC lost that bit of themselves after everything with Chris. So, she likes to think of MC from then, hoping to be able to see MC with that spark of confidence once more.

💛 M - They so badly want a photo of MC in a costume. But would settle for any. Relationship stage M would want a couple's photo or a still from one of the photo booths that they talked MC into going in on one of their dates. It looks so casual from an outside perspective, but in actuality M couldn't have been more nervous. They were falling all over themselves and so sure that they ruined the date. Only for a kiss at the end of the night.

Relationship stage M would want a photo of MC holding one of their books. To anyone else it's just a photo, but to M, it's so evocative and it excites them. A heavy lidded gaze full of desire... directed at the person behind the camera. At M.

M would save MC's number under "My Muse".

💜 Isaac - It would be a selfie MC sent them, when Isaac was trying their best not to care. To be as detached as possible, and yet they still saved that photo. It was like the first little sign that Isaac was growing attached, that MC was nothing like their sister. That Isaac had the capacity to care for someone after that. Though Isaac would totally be okay if it was a photo of MC in the back of their car.

Isaac would first save MC under 'not a model', a throwback to when Isaac very much thought otherwise when in Cam's studio. Relationship stage would be "My Anchor"

🖤 Ardent - 100% a photo of MC and Cupid, even before relationship stage. It would likely have been taken one of the many times MC had to bring Cupid back to him after she followed Cam home. (Cam The Cat Stealer Returns!) Now relationship stage, maybe a photo of the three of them. But if Ardent could get one of them and then including his niece... he would be like putty. That photo would be his wallpaper and screensaver. It would have been taken on one of their outings, probably to a fair when MC had to practically beg him to get on the rides. (Ardent will not admit the sound that came out of his mouth in the scare house. Nothing happened!)

I could see Ardent wanting a more sensual photo of MC, arms above their head and his hand holding their wrists. Or... probably his favorite. MC bent over his hand resting between their shoulders and their eyes closed in complete trust. Of course the photo ends before you can see their hips, or the way they're slotted together. There's a softness in MC’s expression, and in Ardent’s memory, the feeling of being in control, yet his emotions were anything but. He might have had a grip of the situation, but he didn't have one on how he felt.

MC is probably saved under "Brat" , "Trouble", or "Kitten".

[nottivagos]

Mechanic Daniel is haunting my thoughtsssss👨🏻‍🔧

Just imagine readers car is making a few funny noises coming into the shop one day and instead of asking the guys or Daniel she thinks hey I can do this myself and show everyone I’m not just a pretty face, I’ve watched Daniel enough to know what’s going on right? Wrong. After the shop is closed reader somehow makes her car even worse not noticing mechanic Danny has come back for something and is less than happy, I neeeeed to know how you think he’d react😭🙏and what he’d do to reader 😉

It's that time again! Welcome to Notti's "Not So Innocent" Notebook where I write some filth to make your Monday a little bit better <3 || 18+ mdni pls and ty

an: GUYS. ANOTHER NONNIE WANTS ME DEAD. this is not a drill. anywho, LOVED THIS IDEA. ugh angry dilfs.. 😵‍💫.. i kinda switched it up a little with reader going to ask danny first (i hope u dont mind! i'd just had this idea that she was so ditzy she literally went to a con man for a car.) but the plot after that is the same <3

taglist: @orangeblossomsintheair

“I told you to not buy a shit car off of ‘im,” Danny grumbled, rubbing his temples with annoyance. “But fine,” he sighed, rubbing his forehead with the back of his hand, “I’ll fix your car,” he groaned, yet his voice held some gentleness to it. “Pass ‘em over, pet,” he flashed his rough, oil-stained palm out towards you, demanding you give your car keys over.

“Really?” your eyes brightened, that glint of happiness ever so more noticeable. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” you exclaimed your appreciation, passing over your car keys into his hand. He responded to your over-bubbly response with a disinterested grunt, nodding as he pocketed your keys, pulling out a cigarette before turning on his heel to take his well deserved smoke break after speaking to you.

However, Danny’s ‘I’ll fix your car’ meant that you were getting it back in his own time. Your boss never understood the concept of a timeframe, or in this instance, a deadline. You needed your car badly, and quick too. You couldn’t help but sympathise with him slightly, he was drowned in work, but that wasn’t an excuse in this instance. 

It didn’t help that he wasn’t impressed by who you’d bought your car off. Maybe he was a little biassed, a tinge of jealousy behind that motive, but that could be suppressed by the mechanic. He’d advised you not to buy something from a rival car dealership (with a notorious legacy of selling “useless pieces of crap that deserved to be in a scrapyard”, in his words) in the local area, but the offers he was providing to you were amazing! Too bad that the car had a hundred problems you couldn’t fix. Too bad that you were too much of a pretty face whilst lacking the brains to see a con artist in his element.

Maybe you were being too impatient. Daniel was a busy man, but surely he’d make some time for you? After all, you were the one sucking him off during after-work hours, surely he’d make you the exception. Unfortunately, your hopes were far from reality. Danny was living in a ‘laid-back’ mindset ever since his divorce, doing tasks when he wanted to do them. Not when they needed to be done by. His customers knew not to complain, or they’d face the wrath of an aggressive mechanic nearly throwing a wrench at their head for rushing him.

‘Death by wrench’ was something you definitely didn’t want your ultimate demise to be known as, so you sat silently, despite the irritating urge to go and ask Danny if he’d even thought of starting on your car playing in the back of your mind. You couldn’t help but wonder if it would be better if you tried to mend your car yourself. Not only would it take the stress of Danny and the guys, but also you could prove to them that you were not just the ‘pretty face in reception that only makes a good fuck for Dan’.

So guess what you stupidly decided to do, a rush of confidence influencing your brash decision. Fix your car! You waited (rather impatiently) for Danny and the guys to go on their lunch and a shared smoke break, knowing they’d take 2 hours instead of the actual designated 30 minutes, to try and mend your poor machine. It had only been making a few weird noises… Easy fix. Right?

Wrong! Despite ogling over Danny whilst he fixed cars, believing all of that daydreaming about him whilst watching would come to good use, you soon discovered that you were not a car mechanic. And instead… useless. Well, useless wasn’t the nicest term to use. If you had maybe asked one of the guys or Danny himself for some advice, the car’s ‘wheezing and sputtering’ problem would’ve been an easy fix. But instead, giving you a wrench and a power to ‘fix’ your car ultimately made its problem worse.

The minutes turned into hours, and somehow it was already the end of the working day. The garage was silent, apart from your annoyed huffs and puffs as you continued to try and mend what you’d already broken even more.

Pouting, you wiped your sweaty forehead, not acknowledging the unamused grunts from behind you. Whilst you’d been sucked into your own world of mending your car, Danny had been watching you, agitated of course, silently whilst he rested against the countertop.

“What a shit job you've done.” A husky, unamused voice bellowed from behind you. “For a girl who ogles over me all day whilst I work, I’d suspect you could do better than.. whatever this is.”

Eyes widened as your breathing hitched. Fuck, he did not sound happy, or amused at what you’d done. Turning on your heel, you faced him with a nervous smile. “B-Boss!” you exclaimed as a blurt, “I was just trying to fix it on my own!”

“Thought I’d told you to wait,” he said, giving you a knowing look. He was resting against the worktop, burly arms crossed against his broad chest. “And instead of waitin’ like a good girl, your car is now even more fucked.”

“B-but—!”

“But nothing,” he grunted with distaste, pushing himself off of the counter towards you. In a swift movement, he had your front pushed onto the bonnet of the car, ass high up in the sky as you let out a small yelp.

“What am I going to do with you, huh?” he sighed, as if he was scolding a child, large palms gripping your hips as you rested your chest against the bonnet of the car. “Always so impatient,” he murmured, fingertips trailing down to your clothed ass which was becoming more visible as your dress rode up your curves, “always so needy. Fuck, you really know how to piss me off, petal.”

Large hands came to brush your skirt up your body, revealing your clothed bottom to Danny more clearly. He hummed with satisfaction as calloused fingers hooked underneath your panties, the cool air hitting your slick pussy almost immediately as he ripped them down your legs.

“Can’t even have a smoke without you goin’ against what I’ve told you to do,” he added, swatting your ass with force. The slap made you yelp, tears foolishly forming in your eyes as your hips jerked forward upon impact.

“That—” another whack to your throbbing flesh, “—was for being impatient—,” he grunted upon another harsh impact, his hand now leaving a red mark against your asscheek, sobs now escaping your lips. “And this—” the clap echoed around the quiet workshop as you whined, “—is for making an easy fix even worse for me to do.”

A foolish whimper followed. A strangled sob as you felt your pussy become slightly wetter. Daniel brought his face down to your ear, his ragged breaths rattling your eardrums ever so slightly.

“Tell me you’re sorry and I’ll stop,” he whispered huskily into your ear, hot breath burning the shell of your ear as you bit your bottom lip, mascara smudged by the tears you’d shed. His hand ghosted over your throbbing curves, the distance teasing you as your body was tricked into thinking he would smack it again.

“I-I’m sorry, Danny!” you blurted loudly, tears streaming down your rosy cheeks like a little girl. “I won’t try and fix a car on my own again, I-I- promise!” you squeaked helplessly.

“Good girl,” Danny hummed, moving away from you to the workbench to pick up his toolbox whilst you rearranged your clothes. 

When you’d finished, he looked at you with a soft smile, despite the irritation that he’d have to stay even later to fix your problems. His doe brown eyes looked sweeter than they usually did, as he leaned in for a little kiss. The kiss was ever so soft, as if it was a ‘sorry’ for spanking you so hard, but he let his lips linger on your burning cheek for a while after.

“You should probably get off,” he said, his voice gentle as he looked at you. “It’s late, I’d hate to keep you here any longer,” Danny added with a soft glance, before rummaging through the box for the tools he needed.

You were about to head to the exit before Danny’s head sprung back around, as he reached out for your arm.

“Oh, and one other thing,” he called out, wrapping your hand around your wrist for a moment. “Next time you want me to do somethin’, just ask. Hell, nag me until I don't want you to nag me anymore," he chuckled with a shake of his head, “I’m more than willing to do it for you if you need it done as soon as possible, princess.”

like divorced mechanic!danny? consider sending me an ask so you can be included in my notebook! - notti <3

[hollyhomburg]

Prey Animals (6)

—  Pairing: Yoongi x reader, Reader x agust d, Bts x reader,

—  Genre: Omegaverse, Mafia au, Polyamory au, Found family, Suspense, Eventual Smut, enemies to friends to lovers, Healing & Themes of trauma,

—  Summary: In a world where Beta's are rare, valuable, and often have more than one pack; Beta Min Yoongi does everything he can to keep his mafia heritage a secret from his primary pack. Little does he know he's not the only one who's living a double life.

—  Words: 4.7k

—  Warnings: Suspense, Death, Murder, Poisoning, Angst, Organized crime, Brief body horror, References to violence

—  Check in at the end for my notes on this chapter! — 

Apparently, they’d been found together in the house. Both of them dead side by side.

The Don had passed first and the beta second. Mumbling something, brain scrambled from an aneurism or worse. Their deaths too close together to not be suspicious. Not to be caused.

But then again, the Beta and the Don had always been close. Close enough to die on the same day.

It’s strange for many of them to think of a beta loving someone so much that they’d stay in one place for a year- let alone the 40 that the last Don’s partner had stayed. Being romantically involved with the Don isn’t a requirement of the beta (and thank God for that) their romance although fruitless and without children, had been a natural progression of spending countless hours together.

Yoongi can only hope that the next Don he’ll choose will not require as much attention from him. 

Yoongi knows exactly what it feels like to love someone enough that society’s expectations are only a backdrop. Yoongi knew the beta well, and that weekend- he mourns her just as much as he mourned his parents.

Many in the family think them dying so close to each other is a little bit too fortuitous to be entirely accidental or age. The shadow of an unseen threat hangs in the balance. Murdered or dead, what does it matter? The effect is the same.

There is no Don right now. There is only Yoongi. And the decision of who will inherit the criminal empire lies solely on his shoulders. 

The rules of secession are simple and laid out in terms that the families do not argue with; to be eligible a contender must have direct lineage from one of the founding families.

A head of house is preferred for the role but not required. No adopted members or outsiders. Older than 20 but younger than 55 because the fewer changes of power the better. If they kept merely picking the eldest, the Don would die and change once or twice every decade and that’s too often for the kind of stability required by the family.

No Omegas or Betas either. The Don can only be an Alpha. 

Yoongi will choose the successor by himself. There will be no changing and recanting once he’s made his choice. Although bribery and bargaining are still on the table. He’ll have 120 days from the funeral to make his choice and during that time a moratorium is placed on all major decisions in regard to marriage, deaths, engagement, and alliances. None of the families’ assassins will be called for hits and there will be no naming of any newborn pups in the time being.

And if by chance Yoongi dies before the next Don is chosen, it would come down to a vote between the 12 heads of house.

~-~

(You and Yoongi. 115 days before).

Yoongi doesn’t meet you at the funeral, although he’s sure you must have been there.

Months later he’ll think back to if he saw you and decide that he didn’t because you hadn’t wanted to be noticed. You’d have probably made yourself small for it- sunk into the shadows where you’d avoid detection and suspicion to watch the masses like a teeming anthill. Perhaps you’d turned your gaze skyward towards the end just as he had, to beg for a savior in the vaulted ceiling above.

He doesn’t meet you at the funeral- but at the next family dinner the following Saturday. The meal offers no salvation or satiation. Nothing that either of you are looking for.

Both of you meet hungry.

The family has given him his own personal driver to ferry Yoongi in between his hotel and the various family meetings in the week following the funeral. He’ll only be staying at the hotel for a few more nights until the beta’s residence has been cleared out for him.

During that week Yoongi meets with each of the heads of house personally and privately to re-learn the names of their eligible alphas. He leaves his own brother for last. To make him nervous- or to save the best. Geumjae can choose what narrative he wants.

All he can think about during the drive to the Don’s house is that it’s all terribly predictable that Geumjae wants this. That he wants the throne.

Thinking back on it- what didn’t he want growing up? More candy and the more desert. More toys and more presents on his birthday. More and more and more. The fastest car and the most lethal gun. What wasn’t he entitled too as his father’s heir and the default favorite?

Just like back then- Geumjae is the default here. Choosing him wouldn’t alarm anyone- he might not even be the worst choice in the eyes of the heads of house. Few have shown themselves to be as ruthless and even fewer have taken the family to greater heights than Geumjae has taken the Min family too.

Geumjae isn’t just a good pick, he’s the expected one.

Yoongi doesn’t like the way that the expectations feel, how they worm their way under his skin. Geumjae is an eligible alpha, it’s only natural that he’d want the power and money awarded to the Don’s position.  

His threats from the other night bounce around the inside of Yoongi’s head. He can’t forget them; what Geumjae insinuated.

The idea of his pack getting caught up in all of this makes his blood run cold. Survival is a particular drug, and Yoongi feels it block out all of his love for them- the memory of them, all his little wants and concerns boiling down to abject horror at what Geumjae insinuated the other night. The pack’s survival is the one thing Yoongi cares about, it falls even above his own.

If Yoongi has to make the choice, it will be easy.

The next Don won’t be chosen for the next 120 days as is tradition. What he should do is live out the 120 days, name Geumjae Don and then high tail it out of here. Geumjae might be so thankful that he lets Yoongi go without comment. Maybe he could barter the position with the condition that Yoongi was allowed to go and leave this all behind. A life for an empire. It seems like a fair trade.

Maybe then he could get back to the pack before Christmas.

He checks his phone again for the dozenth time this week. The packs texts have grown more and more worried. Yoongi spends so much of his time looking down at his phone, finger hovering over the call button. Unable to pull the trigger. It’s too much of a risk, even texting them could turn curious eyes in their direction.

Jimin (5:34pm): Do you need help? Just say yes and I’ll find you. Hyung please, just let us know if you’re alright.

He has to act carefully- deliberate. Maybe he’ll call Namjoon and tell him he’d be gone for a few more weeks than he thought, maybe he shouldn’t risk even that. Even that might put them at risk.

Yoongi has 120 days to make sure that the pack don’t get caught up in this, 120 days before he can text them, before he can go home and hope that they’ll forgive him. He doesn’t know what story he’ll tell them or how he’ll justify it. I was hurt, I was in a coma, I couldn’t text you, I was stuck halfway in a ditch. I just lost track of time.

But the real justification, the truth, is something he’ll need to take to his grave.

Until the Don is decided, Yoongi’s the one who will govern the affairs of the family.

There will be no death and no punishments, A time for everyone to gather and mourn and talk about what needs to be done, each voice heard in equal measure. It’s his job as the only beta left to make sure the family doesn’t fall prey to infighting while the next leader is being chosen.

Although the past Don’s house will sit vacant until the next is chosen, they still have family dinners there.

The general rule is that one member of each house should be in attendance every week, there could be more- but there are rarely more than 40 people at the table. Not many of them are in possession of large enough houses to fit their group though Yoongi’s sure half of them are preparing their mansions. To have these meetings on their own turf might give them an advantage. They’re willing to try anything that might give them an edge.

The Don’s compound is neutral ground and yet, a reminder with its sprawling decadent expanse and gardens of what they all stand to gain if they convince Yoongi to choose their sons or daughters.

With its many tiers built into a hill and hidden by high walls, the expansive rooftop gardens guard well-lit doorways and ample balconies of the Don’s residence. The roses at the front have few blooms, mostly just sharp green leaves, this late in the year most things are dying and few are growing.

A Jacko lanterns sits at the bottom of the stairs, carved with a gruesome grimace. The long marble steps are wide enough that a dozen people could ascend at the same time. But Yoongi still hears the hissed protest from one of the elders. They shrivel their nose at it, their scent is so dull with age that Yoongi can’t tell if they used to be an alpha or an omega. 

“American traditions should have no place at our table.”

Yoongi wishes they’d give it a rest. Or at least speak in English, his Korean is rusty.

The heads of the family are done up in their finest suits and gowns, all black. But the logos that glimmer and fine tailoring betray the price of their adornments. It will be a little while before anyone feels comfortable wearing any color. He makes his rounds, saying hello and embracing people whose names he can hardly remember. Wishing condolences and congratulations with equal fervor. And endlessly repeating “I’ve made no decision yet” to anyone who dares even hint at wondering who he’s going to name Don.  

Yoongi almost forgot what the mansion looked like it’s been years since he last set foot here. The roman columns glitter in candlelight. The candied persimmons from last season lie in heaps around an altar with the Don and Betas face displayed large. Hundreds of candles dance in the breeze as each house pays their respect and passes. The incense stings Yoongi’s nose but the cold marble floors and sparce decorations are the same as he remembers. The usually fragrant trees in the entryway sit barren of both fruit and blooms.

But there is one person who lingers at the altar, more still than a statue and avoided like the plague.

Yoongi falls into step next to the women and stays quiet.

Mating marks are a dangerous game, a dangerous promise that thankfully Yoongi will be omitted from- because beta’s don’t mate. A bite to the scent gland on the throat- a bite anywhere really, that binds your life to another person’s for eternity.

Yoongi smiles at Mrs. Zhang, the omega of the late head of the house for that same family name. She has glassy eyes but a kind face, and before her husband died, she was one of the omega’s who regardless of family or status, would always drag the pups in for a treat in exchange for a bit of obedience and help folding dumplings.

But she gives no response to him now. Nothing at all that shows she’s reciprocated his kindness or even realized there is another human being beside her. Yoongi knows that her son has taken to bringing her to these family dinners because he feels like it reminds her of better times. Brings her closer to the surface. But part of Mrs. Zhang will always remain with her mate, part of her will always remain dead and there’s no bringing it back.

To lose your mate is to become a ghost- that’s what they’re called, both with insult and with ignobility. The alpha’s and omega’s who lose their bonded partners either die or turn into these specters.  Around 75% of living mates die after their partner passes, it’s not always instant. They’re not really in the clear until a year or so after.

And then there’s the mating marks, and what happens to them.

Yoongi knows he’s staring at it but honestly, he doesn’t think Mrs. Zhang even notices he’s looking. The mark on the side of her throat is pitch black, the skin the color of charcoal or poison. Two small circles that have branded themselves into the side of her throat forever. Thin black tracery stains everywhere, following her veins. Tracing all the way up her neck and across part of her face. Even touching her eye, staining the whites of it dark and hazy.

The color changed associated with ones mate dying has always creeped Yoongi out. The marks, usually silvery or small and pink when fresh, go black as death once it’s happened. It always reminded Yoongi of a cheesy zombie movie (that’s where zombie movies came from after all).

Yoongi alerts one of his cousins on the Zhang side of the family tree, and heads inside without making sure that Mrs. Zhang has been properly cajoled back into her wheelchair.

Even back when he still lived in this city- he was still much more used to the beta’s headquarters than this limestone monstrosity. He knows that the Don rarely slept in this house. It exists for one reason and one reason only.

Appearances.

Appearances are important. It’s evident in the decadent spread on the table. Family dinners are usually prepared by one of the aunties or elders, always an omega. Cooking for everyone is not something the younger family members are usually allowed to do- a point of pride and so terribly sexist that Yoongi can feel Seokjin roll his eyes from a world away.

He can almost hear Seokjin’s voice. He’d certainly have more indelicate things to say about the omega’s sitting around the long table. Each one is perfectly poised at their alpha’s side- but near uniform. Black dresses, red lipstick, hair pulled back into a low bun or ponytail. Not a hair out of place.

All but one. One omega does not have their hair pulled back. At least not entirely, shorter face framing pieces hide your cheekbones.

Yoongi’s eyes do not hover on you.

Although this dinner might have been cooked by the grannies and other trusted omegas, this one is catered by a small staff. Yoongi takes distant note of which family members thank the butlers in their suit coats and which ones make them spill their punch for a laugh.

Your hair falls loose around your face, hiding the way your eyes dart from person to person and Yoongi spies more than one of the elders eyeing you with distaste. It’s hard to find an excuse to look at you, a few people to his left.

You’re at Geumjae’s side, carefully poised, not a finger out of place as you smile and answer the questions asked to you politely- never instigating a conversation with another soul at the table. Picking at your food.

You’re his brother’s new omega wife. The fact that Yoongi never attended the wedding is something he’s teased about but no one really minds. It’s chalked up to his flightiness as a beta. You know how they are- said sagely with a smile, chagrined understanding that does not comfort Yoongi.

He’d always wondered which woman his brother had married, and now confronted with you. He finds himself curious.

It’s dangerous to be curious.

You might be married to Geumjae, but that doesn’t mean you’re a head of house like the other wives. You’re an outsider. Married in. A generation ago, it would have been a scandal. You’ll always be treated with a little bit of reluctance and a little bit of spite. You’re not related to any of them by blood, and that makes you a liability. A risk not all of them are willing to take. 

It doesn’t help that you’re the youngest omega at the table by a few years. You look a little too young- both to be here and by Geumjae’s side. You can’t be much older than Jongho. The wolves at the table eye you like you could be easy prey. 

Yoongi knows you are easy prey.

At first, you’re unremarkable- if not for the gentle sweet scent that flicks across Yoongi’s nose, something refreshing that Yoongi can’t place. It’s something that makes him instantly miss his Seokjin and Jungkook back home. The yearning for them lighting little sparks of heat on his cheeks. Yoongi tells himself that’s the only reason why he finds his eyes hovering on you.

Throughout the whole evening, you stick close to your husband’s side as a good omega should. One of the grannies praises you for knowing your place. Yoongi rolls his eyes internally at that. Gender roles are more strictly enforced within older packs and Yoongi grew up with this, but it’s still nauseating.  

Not all couples wear mating marks and neither do either of you yet. Yoongi notices that there is little on your neck besides a gaudy diamond necklace. So thick it almost looks like a collar. A little tacky. He wonders if you chose it or if Geumjae did.

Geumjae takes it off when one of the grannies asks to look at your unmarked neck, teasing, making sure you’re not hiding a mating mark under there. “The grannies like to look,” someone giggles, In Korean.

Yoongi doesn’t have to wonder if you know Korean because you hardly have any response when someone else replies. “Why? She’s hardly pretty. I don’t get what all the fuss is. It’s a shame really, that Jae ended up with such a wife.”

Moonbyul and her omega is here, her hair pinned back, short enough that she can’t put it in a bun but still tamed. It takes Yoongi a second to remember her name- Hyejin. 

Hyejin snaps at the other omega, “That reeks strongly of jealousy.”

“Your crow’s feet are showing.”

Hyejin scoffs, “You wish.” She answers, in English. Yoongi watches you turn, watches as Moonbyul’s omega looks at you blatantly and you exchange a look.  Your eyes dart back to your plate just as quickly.

Yoongi almost says something. Almost.

You stay utterly still when Geumjae leans to peck at your throat. But Yoongi catches your nostrils flaring ever so slightly.

Getting marked is more binding than a marriage pact- it’s agreeing to share your soul with someone. To intertwine your life with theirs’s. Which is why most people in the family choose to have mating marks- especially if they commit to bringing in an outsider. You can’t snitch on someone who can smell when you’re lying; you can’t kill someone who dies if you do. One of Yoongi’s female cousins asks you when you’ll do it, and you admit- sounding a little too relieved to escape notice- that you’ve decided to wait until your next heat to solidify the mating.

Yoongi doesn’t say anything, doesn’t do anything but eat his meal and observe the way that Geumjae sets your diamond necklace across his thigh. Jongho sits at the other end of the table. And he’s distracted momentarily by the same elder from earlier who complained about the carved pumpkins telling off one of the staff for serving steak that’s medium rare and not rare.

Jongho cringes, and then their voices raise, alerting Yoongi to his plight.

“Don’t you know real alphas eat their meat raw,” she hisses, the youthful waiter apologizes. Holding a tray Infront of his midriff like it might guard his internal organs from her ire. “In my day we’d have taken your fingers for this.”

Geumjae grins next to Yoongi, laughing at how the waiter looks like he’s close to pissing his pants.

“They would not have.”

Yoongi ignores the way that the conversation quiets and the table falls silent. The same way he ignores the way that every face turns to look at him.

The elder splutters. They’re clearly not used to being interrupted, not used to being told off. And why would they be? Only Yoongi would dare, only Yoongi has the right to cajole and corral all of these people here.

Yoongi takes another bite. You put down your glass of wine, the red liquid in the glass sloshing. He watches you from the corner of his eye.  

“Yes, they would have.” It feels like bickering with a child so Yoongi chews slow, letting the table grow more and more quiet. More and more anxious.

“Do you really want to disagree with me?” he keeps his voice flat, lets the threat of the unknown linger. They can interpret his mask as they want, the level way he speaks, and interpret it as a threat without it actually being one. Yoongi takes great pains to gesture with his fork and not his knife. “You’re always going on about how the younger generation has no manners, why don’t you give us a demonstration and apologize.”

“I’m not apologizing to a fucking omega.”

Yoongi puts his fork down. And raises his eyebrow.

Jongho puts a hand on the table. “I agree with hyung, you should apologize.”

The hyung rings out, and suddenly the rest of the table is clambering to agree with Yoongi, following in Jongho’s footsteps. Calling Yoongi hyung sends a very particular message. Yoongi knows better, Jongho is just as cunning as Yoongi suspected.

The apology falls from the elder’s mouth after another breath. The waiter bows, accepts it, and walks back to the kitchen. Yoongi doesn’t see him for the rest of the evening. Yoongi goes back to observing the table. Dragged into meaningless conversation after meaningless conversation and the moment dissipates.

Yoongi doesn’t miss the way that Geumjae’s fingers dig into your neck, arm around your shoulder. Or the way that he can see faint bruises on your wrists when your sleeve falls down. Hidden partially by a set of thick gold bracelets. A gift from Geumjae you say when Yoongi compliments them.

Yoongi doesn’t say that they look more like shackles than anything else.

You meet his eyes over the table and your gaze quickly flickers away. Your attention is as fickle as a butterfly in a garden full of thorned roses. Prey animals have attention that goes all the way around- to keep an eye out for predators.

Your eyes hover on him longest. And Yoongi cannot help but feel like you’re assessing a new potential threat.

Yoongi has his suspicions already- and he’s only had one meal with you.

Which is why he compliments the bracelets. Yoongi knows how to be delicate. “Maybe you could show me where to find something like them,” he comments idly, talking to omegas about trinkets isn’t suspicious.

The other omegas sat at the table are dressed like a bunch of haughty crows, bespeckled with enough diamonds to put a jewelry store out of business. They eye Yoongi like he might be something shiny.  

“I think my omegas might like them something like that.”

They all know he has a pack, why should he hide it? Why shouldn’t he say it? Maybe it will stop the haughty omega across the table from preening, from looking at him like Yoongi’s his next meal. His fingers tap against the low v of his neckline, showing more with every twitch of his fingers. Tilting his neck to show his scent gland, his unmarked neck, His Delicately curly hair and a blotted lip is pretty, all but Simpering in his direction.

It’s a lie- both Jungkook and Seokjin hate heavy jewelry. Beyond the occasional studs or the hoops that Jungkook rarely ever takes out. Yoongi’s not really sure why he asks, why he offers to get you alone, why you look at him warily.

Maybe you suspect that Yoongi is like his brother. They look similar enough- almost twins in the right light. The only thing that really makes them look different is the scar that crosses Geumjae’s eye. You glance over at Geumjae and wait for his small nod of approval before you agree to his invitation.

You’re his sister-in-law for Christ’s sake. He should get to know you a little especially since you’re a part of the family now. Yoongi knows from experience how daunting this can be.  How overwhelming the family is.

Reluctantly, he has to admit that there are things about Geumjae that he wants to figure out.

Yoongi wonders why he feels like he’s justifying it.

~-~

The end of the dinner does not go entirely without conquest.

The family is fat and happy and tired from the meal, dotting mouths and taking mints and cocaine lines in the drawing room after tea and coffee. Yoongi declines some but Geumjae doesn’t. He watches as your husband leans in, pecks you on your still bare throat.

“Wait for me at home. Don’t sleep.”

You nod and exit with barely more than a look in his direction. Your eyes slide over Yoongi and everyone else like water sliding over glass.

Yoongi aims to follow. Aims to officially meet you but gets dragged into another conversation just before the stairs. You are down the steps already, waiting two steps from the bottom for the valet to bring your car around. Your breath mists in the cold fall air, a thick dark fur wrapped around your shoulders, but you shiver anyway. Yoongi bids his farewell to the others and goes after you.

Yoongi spends his descent observing you.

Yoongi watches as you reach up and tug your hair out of the bun and let it fall around your shoulders. Slowing when he descends to spend another second looking. The woman was definitely lying earlier when they called her ugly, a voice that sounds suspiciously like Seokjin says in his ear.

Jungkook’s chimes in too, if I’m model pretty and Jinnie is statue pretty then she’s like, fairy pretty or something.

Yoongi wonders if you’d have dared to do that if Geumjae was next to you. The breeze tickles your loose locks, picked up by the wind. His expensive shoes clack against the stairs. But no sooner is he nearing you than a commotion begins behind him and Yoongi turns.

It’s Jongho, it happens so quickly that Yoongi can hardly piece together what he’s seeing.

His father is trying to hold him up, but he can’t quite as he starts to teeter and fall. Jongho’s knees hit the marble steps with a loud crack, and he collapses clutching at his throat and spluttering for breath. His face goes red then purple, eyes bloodshot and bulging. Foam frothing at his mouth. It only takes a few seconds, and Yoongi finds himself jerking forward in his direction. But it’s too late.

Choi senior howls from the steps clutching at his son while he dies.

Yoongi’s heart thuds in his ears as the family surrounds the two of them, calling for the staff, for the doctor but it’s too late. By the end of it Jongho is sprawled on the steps looking up at the cloudy sky. There is blood vessels burst in his eyes red bleeds from the iris out. Yoongi is holding his shoulders but there’s nothing really that he can do.

The staff rush forward but there’s nothing to be done he twitches and falls still. “My son! Someone help my son!” Yoongi tries not to vomit all over the steps as Choi Senior pushes the rest away, nocking someone back into him.

The omegas are off to the side in a gaggle, gasping and clinging to each other, one of them leans close to the other.

“Isn’t it against family laws to take out a hit on someone during the morning period?”

“It is, do you think someone will be punished?”

“I hope it’s not my alpha.”

“Same.”  

I’m being punished Yoongi thinks, letting Choi senior clutch at him. Letting him sob into the beta’s arms under the indifferent eyes of everyone around, their muttering. Someone asks what they should do with the body. “We must find who did this we must-” Yoongi nods and grips his hand. Trying not to spill his dinner.

When Yoongi turns to look back at you. Your car has already started to pull away from the steps. Your face hidden from view by the tinted window.

~-~

(Read the first Version of this story Here)

Notes:

-I went back and added the section so that we see someone with a dead mating mark so that we have CONTEXT honestly a god tier level thought. I feel like this rounds out that part of the story so well.

- Once again I’m hoping that people understand my weird formatting. If something is said in italics that means it’s in Korean! If it’s not mentioned over the phone or in a text message. Basically, my thought process is that things that are said out of the normal guise of conversation- or communicated in a way that is atypical, as a thought or apart of someone’s internal monologue then it should be italicized.

- SPOILERS- there’s something about reading this section where she’s sat at the table with the knowledge that she killed the last don and the beta, that makes all the things the others are saying/thinking about her so fucking funny like she really played them all! She did that! like fuck! reading Yoongi call her easy prey and knowing that he’s severely underestimating her is so- wow I really wrote this!

- Yoongi is lowkey really funny when he’s like ‘I’m being punished’ listening to the people be calloused about the death.

[darkserenity24]

𝑭𝒓𝒆𝒆𝒅𝒐𝒎 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑪𝒉𝒂𝒐𝒔 - 𝑪𝒉. 10

Loki x Reader

𝘾𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙎𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮: 𝙔𝙤𝙪 𝙣𝙖𝙫𝙞𝙜𝙖𝙩𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙬𝙝𝙞𝙧𝙡𝙬𝙞𝙣𝙙 𝙤𝙛 𝙖𝙩𝙩𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣 𝙛𝙧𝙤𝙢 𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙮𝙤𝙣𝙚 𝙗𝙚𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙫𝙞𝙣𝙘𝙚𝙙 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙙𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙜𝙤𝙙 𝙤𝙛 𝙢𝙞𝙨𝙘𝙝𝙞𝙚𝙛.

𝘈/𝘕: 𝘌𝘹𝘤𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘰𝘯𝘦! 𝘗𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘦𝘯𝘫𝘰𝘺, 𝘳𝘦𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘨, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘢 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵!

𝙒𝙝𝙮 𝙬𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙 𝙄 𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙬𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙮𝙤𝙪?

After you and Loki were ambushed earlier that week, the atmosphere in the tower had noticeably shifted. Things felt unusually tense, to say the least.

The team seemed to be unsure of what to do about the media–and now the whole world–thinking that you and Loki were together. Mixed emotions were coming from everyone, ranging from confusion to annoyance, anger, and even subtle amusement. Tony and Steve were trying their hardest to mitigate any more rumors the press were spreading about you two, but it was pointless in your opinion. Regardless of what the truth was, people would always think what they wanted to.

Then there was Natasha and surprisingly enough, Sam, who were both getting a ridiculous amount of enjoyment from the situation. If it weren’t for Tony being highly peeved, they’d probably be teasing you any chance they could. They still did it, just in private.

You, on the other hand, were mind blown about the current situation you found yourself in. You didn’t know what to think, or how to go about it, being completely lost for words. How could anyone think that you and Loki were dating? Why did anyone think you and Loki were dating? It didn’t make any sense to you, and you continued to drive yourself crazy by reading every news article that popped up on your phone.

You were sitting in the living room, watching the ten o’clock news as they debated on how dangerous your and Loki's relationship was for the human race. But that wasn’t even the worst part about it.

You cringed as the headline ‘CAPTAIN AMERICA’S FORMER LOVER CHEATS ON HIM WITH INFAMOUS WAR CRIMINAL’ rolled across the screen in bold letters. 

The fact that people still believed you were ever with Steve in the first place was enough to send you into a mental spiral. How were you supposed to show your face at school again? It was almost impossible for you to step outside without getting bombarded with cameras and questions. You couldn’t even take a five minute walk without being ambushed.

You didn’t register anything the newscaster was saying, eyes glued to the displayed photo of you and Loki walking in the park the other day. You were staring up at him as he gazed down at you, his jacket dwarfing your smaller frame. His hand was on your back as you both walked back to the car. They made sure to choose the photo that supported their story as much as possible, seeming as if they had caught a very intimate moment between you two. It was hard to say whether the photo had been edited or if it was simply one of those rare, perfectly-timed shots.

As you scrutinized the photo more, there was a tiny wisp of a thought in the back of your mind that you didn’t really want to entertain. Maybe the photo wasn’t exaggerated at all, and even though the media was lying, your intense gazes and the almost nonexistent space between you made it hard to believe your relationship wasn’t deeper than you were claiming it to be.

Whether you both noticed or not, it appeared that you and Loki were giving off the impression of being a couple to those around you. Or at least to the public.

Your close friendship was enough to send people into a frenzy, and they were turning it into something more than it really was.

Your brows furrowed when the television screen suddenly went black. You turned to see Loki standing a few feet away with the remote in his hand. He sat it down on the coffee table before taking a seat next to you.

“I don’t believe it’s wise for you to be torturing yourself with this foolishness,” he said.

You groaned in frustration, running a hand over your face. “I know, I know, but I can’t help it. I just can’t wrap my head around how all of this happened.”

“Perhaps you do not need to put any more thought into it. It is obvious to me that this city is not ran by the most intelligent of your species. The statement about your involvement with Rogers is completely false. These people are absolute idiots.”

“Yeah, you’re right about that at least. I don’t know how the media is in Asgard but I hope it’s nothing like this.” You commented, leaning back on the sofa cushions, face twisting into an amused expression.

“I mean, think about it. Why would anyone believe you would ever want to date someone like me? That’s really the most ridiculous part about this entire situation.”

It was true. Never in your life had you deluded yourself into thinking a literal Norse god from a different planet would be attracted to you out of everyone he’d met before. You could only imagine the long line of beautiful Asgardian goddesses that were patiently awaiting his return.

Glancing back at Loki, you anticipated his signature smirk, or for him to be joining in on your laughter at the ridiculousness of the situation and in agreement with your take.

There was no laughter, no smirk—his expression was devoid of amusement. Strangely, he appeared taken aback, dark brows knit and his gaze sharp and unexpectedly serious.

“What?” You asked. “Did I say something wrong?”

“No,” He muttered, glancing away with a thoughtful frown. “Not exactly.”

He didn’t elaborate more, but by the troubled look in his eyes, you got the hint that he probably didn’t want to speak more about it at the moment. 

You blinked, slowly looking away from him in silence, feeling largely confused about his sudden mood change. All you said was the obvious so you did not understand why he seemed to be thrown off guard by it. He didn’t even provide an offensive, but ridiculously clever, quip at your expense. 

It was unusual.

You found yourself thinking about it on and off throughout the rest of the day but it soon left your mind when you got caught up in the busyness of the week. The days flew by before you could blink.

One thing about living in the Avengers Tower was that there was always something going on. Boredom didn’t exist there. 

Between keeping up with your coursework, lab work, and everything else, your schedule was packed and you were pretty worn out by the end of each day. Another thing you didn’t have any trouble with these days was lack of sleep, though when you awoke in the morning, your body still felt like it was hit by a semi-truck. 

You knew you had to do something about your lack of energy and physical weakness. There was no way you’d last at the rate you were going with the amount of dizziness and fatigue you were experiencing on a daily basis. You put up a pretty convincing front around others, but you knew it was only time before you started to show more symptoms you couldn’t hide anymore.

The fact that you had gotten sick in front of Loki the other day raised some serious alarm bells within you. Dr. Cho did her best to handle your care, and you meant that with full honesty and appreciation. You most likely wouldn’t still be walking around if it wasn’t for her extreme intelligence and quick remedies. However, she was not able to give you what you really wanted at the moment.

Though Dr. Cho was obligated to keep full doctor-patient confidentiality between you two, she didn’t hesitate to make it known at every chance she had that she didn’t think it was a good idea to continue to hide your illness from everyone else. She always made that clear to you, but you also knew she wasn’t going to put you at risk by allowing you to try any experimental treatments either. 

Nothing was stopping you from seeking out another doctor who would be open to providing you access to beta-tested treatments or medications with higher risks, but there was no one else you would be able to trust more than Dr. Cho. Even if you wanted to, you didn’t have the resources or knowledge about the right people to go to. 

Then of all people, Kayla found you having some trouble in one of the women’s bathrooms at school one day.

Against everyone’s wishes, you had braved it out enough to go back to school in person. To say that was a bad idea was a huge understatement.

The looks that were shot your way from your fellow classmates, and even complete strangers, ranged from awe to confusion, and all the way to downright disgust. Even some of your professors seemed to look at you differently now. No one had been brave enough to say anything to your face but you caught numerous camera flashes being aimed your way. 

The attention made you sick to your stomach. You were in such a hurry to get to the toilet that you forgot to lock the stall door, and to just your luck, Kayla accidentally walked in the middle of you vomiting your guts out.

“Hey, is everything okay in th- oh my god!”

You yelped in surprise, peeking over your shoulder as you covered your mouth.

She was kind enough to help you up, quickly ushering you to the sink and grabbing a few paper towels before handing them to you.

You gratefully took them, wiping your mouth before thoroughly rinsing it out with warm water from the sink. 

“Are you pregnant?!” She exclaimed, blue eyes wide as saucers. 

You took a few much needed breaths before answering her question.

“No, I am certainly not pregnant.” you grimaced.

Her shoulders dropped in relief. “Thank god, because you would have owed me a hell of an explanation if you were. Did you just eat something bad?”

“Yeah, something like that.” You half answered, attempting to throw her off your scent. You weren’t ready to have yet another person find out about your illness. Wanda was still pissed at you for hiding it but by some miracle, she continued to stay silent about it like you had practically begged her to. 

Kayla on the other hand was not known for keeping secrets. 

“Oh, well let me know what I can do to help. You don’t look so good so I’m guessing you should probably get out of here sooner than later. Do you want me to drive you home?”

You weren’t exactly opposed to the idea of going home with Kayla. You wished you could call Lana instead and ask her, but she was knee deep in her own work and responsibilities so you didn’t want to interrupt or distract her. 

“Yes, that’s probably a good idea. Thank you.”

You followed her to her jeep, you both taking the route to the parking garage that was out of the way to avoid any more unnecessary harassment. You took that time to catch up since you hadn’t seen her in a while. Unfortunately for you, all she seemed to want to discuss were the latest news headlines.

“I’m telling you, I almost choked on my matcha latte when I saw you were on the news.” She chuckled.

You shook your head with a sigh. “The media is bored right now and needed someone new to torment, it just so happened to be me yet again. They only care about me since I’m so close to the Avengers. I just hate that they also dragged Loki into this as well.”

“Yeah, it is super crazy that they would even think that you’re dating him. I immediately knew it wasn’t true. I mean, why would he decide to go for you out of all people? That wouldn’t make any sense.” She laughed, pulling out her keys to unlock the doors to her jeep. “If he were interested in anyone he would probably go for someone with more of a status since he’s a prince and all, don’t you think?”

You paused, blinking in mild surprise. As blunt as her words were, you had to admit you agreed with her. It was almost exactly what you had said to Loki, but it seemed much harsher coming from Kayla’s mouth.

“Yeah… right. I didn’t know that you knew that Loki was a prince.”

“Oh, of course I do, silly!” She opened the door to the driver’s seat. “Right after I met him I immediately went online and researched every single thing about that man, and I have to say he’s kind of hot.” She smirked. “If only I were lucky enough to have dating rumors spread about me being with him. I’d certainly turn it into a real thing. I already told you, if he’s not taken then I’ll happily fill that role.”

Something deep within you despised the idea of Kayla thinking she had a chance with Loki, and it wasn’t just because he absolutely hated her. There was a feeling you couldn’t exactly describe that made your chest feel tight with pressure. 

“I-I don’t know about that.” You hesitated. “I don’t think that Loki’s looking for a girlfriend anytime soon. Eventually, he’s going to return to Asgard. That's really his main focus while he’s here.”

Kayla shrugged. “Doesn’t mean he can’t have any fun while he’s still here if you know what I mean. Plus, him being with someone else could possibly take some of the heat off of you. That way, everyone’s happy.” 

The wink she sent you had your stomach turning, and you quickly hopped into the passenger’s seat, ready to get home already. In your hurry, you clumsily dropped your backpack on the floor, hearing something tumble out of it and roll under the seat. Not realizing your bag was open you zipped it up and searched around for the missing item.

“Here, I think I see it,” Kayla said. She reached behind your seat and grabbed the item before pausing, a slow frown spreading on her face.

“What’s wrong?” You asked. It’s not like she of all people would be offended if it was something like a tampon.

Slowly, she brought the item into view and your face fell. It was a bottle of the most recent medication Dr. Cho had prescribed you to aid with your symptoms.

“Is this what I think it is?” She asked, looking between you and the bottle.

You quickly snatched it out of her hand and threw it into your bag.

“It’s nothing really. Just something I’ve been taking for my stomach ache.”

Her gaze narrowed, suspicion drawing upon her features.

“That’s not just for any stomach ache and both you and I know it. You want to tell me what’s actually going on?”

You quieted, looking down at your hands and she continued with a less accusing tone this time.

“I’ve seen the type of patients that get prescribed these drugs, and they all usually have something in common.”

“I..” you sighed, not really knowing what to say to her. You felt like you were caught red-handed, yet again, and this time it was because of your own clumsiness. She didn’t even have to look inside of your head to get it out of you. 

You decided to give in and tell her the truth. One thing about Kayla was that she was relentless when it came to getting the information she wanted and lying to her would only make the situation worse. You didn’t need another person pissed at you because of this.

“Yes… I um... I’m sick.” You whispered.

“How sick?” 

You swallowed hard. “I was recently diagnosed with cancer. Leukemia to be exact.”

Her breath hitched, and she looked genuinely worried for you.

“What? No...” She looked away frowning down at the excessively bedazzled steering wheel. “When.. How did this happen?”

“I don’t know. It could just be genetic.” You shrugged sadly. “I don’t really have that many people in my real family, and the ones I do have I don’t know very well. My mom died prematurely and my dad seems to be doing just fine. So… maybe I’m just an anomaly.”

“That’s insane. I’m so sorry this is happening to you. I like… don’t even know what to say.” She admitted. “Does your dad know?”

“God no.” You said exasperatedly. “He’s busy building his new life in another country. The last thing he needs to hear is that his only child was diagnosed with cancer before she even graduated college.” You placed a hand on your forehead, feeling stressed out to the max. “What can he do, anyway? The last thing I want him to do is feel obligated to move back here. I think he’s happier where is now, and I’m also happy with how my life is. We’re both in better places than we were before and I want to keep it that way.”

“Yeah, I understand that,” she agreed. “This is about you since you’re dealing with it, so you have the right to tell or not tell anyone you want. You come first, so don’t think I’m upset with you for keeping this from me, because I’m not. I totally understand. I honestly have no clue what I’d do if I was in your situation.”

You smiled at her. “Thanks, Kayla. That means a lot.” It truly did. You were glad she understood that this was something you wanted to keep close to you. Because of that, you began to open up more to her about everything that’s been going on concerning your illness, including your current predicament with Dr. Cho.

You sat in the car for what seemed like hours, and it probably was. The more you explained your symptoms, the more her expression grew serious with thought

“I don’t know if I told you before but my uncle has a medical practice in Long Island and it’s a really good one.” She added. “He has a facility that specializes in cancer research and may have more access to treatments that can help you. I’m sure Dr. Cho doesn’t have the current bandwidth to do that for you. Would you be interested in having a consultation with him?”

“Oh. Yeah sure.” You agreed in mild surprise. You weren’t familiar with her uncle, but if she believed he could improve your health, it was worth considering. “That would be great.”

“Okay! I’ll set up a meeting between you two sometime next week. Though my parents will probably want to be there as well. I know you don’t want anyone else to know but they’re kind of funding his research facility so they need to be involved.”

You didn’t know how to feel about her parents getting involved with your cancer treatments. It wasn’t exactly ideal.

“And if you’re worried about them saying anything to Tony, they won’t. I swear.” She promised, finally starting her car. “He doesn’t need to know everything that goes on. He thinks he does,” she snorted. “But he doesn’t know the half of it.”

She was right. You loved Tony like family, but knowing how much he tended to overreact to the smallest of situations, there was no way you were revealing this information to him anytime soon. He would probably just make things worse. You could forget leaving the tower altogether or continuing your work with Loki. He would probably ban you from working in the lab as well with all the various chemicals you were being exposed to.

Dr. Cho had ruled out all of those things a while ago, so none of those activities were contributing to your sickness but they did require a lot of energy to do. Energy was what you needed the most.

You needed the energy, you needed the vitality. You needed to appear and feel healthy even if you weren’t exactly one hundred percent well. That’s the only way you could fight this disease.

You agreed to meet with her uncle. You had doubts that he could solve anything or do much more than Dr. Cho, but you couldn’t go down without trying absolutely everything. You would do everything in your power to make sure you stayed healthy for as long as possible. Loki depended on you.

Later that evening, you were sprawled on your bed, legs in the air, while talking to Lana on the phone.

You wouldn’t normally be in your room before ten but you had a lot on your mind and had to speak to someone about it. 

“I don’t know how I’m going to continue doing this. I can’t even show my face at school without my classmates throwing me dirty looks.” You sighed out in frustration. “It’s like everyone’s attention is suddenly on me, and for what? A stupid rumor that’s not even true? Even if it was, it shouldn’t matter who I’m dating. Oh–and they still think I’m in a relationship with Steve at the same time. How in the hell would I be double-timing an Avenger and an Asgardian prince? Do they think I’m the queen or something? I don’t know if everyone else is aware of this but we don’t have royalty here in the States.”

If it was anyone else, you were sure they’d be long tired of your complaining and moping, but Lana continued to listen on, providing supportive commentary here and there as you went on.

You continued to blab on about the current messy state of your life to Lana’s welcoming ears, migrating from your bedroom and into the small living room. You walked past the large window, watching as small water droplets began to hit the glass. The brewing storm that was bound to happen at any time seemed to match your current mood. Gloomy and dark.

“I’m truly considering if I should just finish this semester at home. Being remote won’t be too bad. It may be best for everyone if I just didn’t show my face in public ever again.”

“I completely understand, girl. I would feel the exact same way. I’m sorry this is happening to you, but you can’t let them get to you.” She expressed. “You can’t let them send you into hiding. Who cares what they think? Hell, if I were you I would be flattered that people thought I could pull both Captain America and the god of mischief. They’re like the total opposite of each other, and that means you have range! I’d wear it like a badge of honor. They’re just jealous foreal.”

You couldn’t help but laugh. The situation wasn’t as glamorous as she was making it out to be but you knew she was just trying to lighten the mood. She had a knack for knowing what to say to get you to feel better. It was a talent.

“Yolo, right? You only have one life, so you can’t let what these randos are saying get to you. So get out there and live! Show them how much you don’t care what they’re saying about you. The more you show how unphased you are, they will eventually get bored and find some other unsuspecting victim to torment.”

You thought about her words, a newfound sense of pride running through your body. You realized that she was right. Here you were, sulking in your bedroom like a helpless victim when you could be out there living your life like normal. You couldn’t allow other people to dictate what you should and shouldn’t be doing, or let their opinions of you slow you down.

It may have taken a lot longer than you wanted to to come to this realization but you were glad to have such great friends. Though you had lost some trust in Kayla because of her brother, Jacob was no longer around, and her recent show of genuine care for you and your wellbeing made you feel as if she was a better friend than you thought she was. Everyone made mistakes, and you needed to cut her some slack.

She also was willing to help you find new treatments through her family’s business. The possibility of finding something that would improve your quality of life, as well as your boost in mood from Lana’s words of encouragement made you feel powerful.

So you decided to do something a bit spontaneous.

When Loki opened the door to his suite, he was surprised to see you standing there in a long raincoat and boots, holding two large umbrellas and grinning brightly.

His eyes were narrowed as he eyed you carefully.

“Please do not tell me you’re planning on going out in that dreadful weather?”

“Nope,” you chirped, shaking your head. “We are going out in that dreadful weather together. Now go put on something warm before it gets worse out there.”

He didn’t look too thrilled about that, jaw dropping as he stared at you incredulously. “You have to be joking.” 

“No sir, I am not. It’ll be fun, I promise! Plus, the benefit of the rain means there’s likely to be little to no press camped outside right now.” You urged. “Will you come with me, please?”

You weren’t one to use pity to get him to agree with your plans, but you couldn’t say it didn’t work whenever you did.

You failed to suppress your excitement when he reluctantly agreed to venture out in the dreary weather with you. 

“Fine, but do not expect this to be more than a one-time occurrence.” He grumbled, unable to hide the soft curl of a smile at the corner of his mouth.

As soon as you both stepped outside, you began to question if it really was a good idea to be out there. The sky had darkened significantly, hanging heavily with thick ominous clouds, and the rain was pouring down harder by the minute.

You stared at the dense sheets of water that fell from the sky while you stood under the tower’s overhang with Loki standing beside you. 

“So… this is a lot worse than I thought.” you dragged out with uncertainty. “I think you’re right, maybe we should do this tomorrow.”

You started to back away, ready to head back into the building and figure something else out, but Loki wasn’t having that.

“Oh, no you don’t.” 

He grabbed your arm, pulling you back towards the sidewalk. “You dragged me out of the comfort of my own space to venture out here, so we’re doing it.”

“But-”

“No rebuttals. This is what you wanted, right?” He tutted.

You were prepared to argue with him for however long it took, determined to not step one foot into the flooded path before you, but didn’t get the chance because you were suddenly pushed from under the shelter and into the pouring cold rain. Without your umbrella.

The shriek you let out was loud enough to scare any nearby people away.

“Loki!”

The large grin that was plastered on his face made you even more heated. 

“This isn’t funny!” you exclaimed, water dripping from your hair as you stood getting absolutely soaked in the rain. “I wasn’t ready!”

He paused in his laughter long enough to make a teasing remark at your expense. “I’m afraid you are now.”

“You think this is funny?” You hissed, watching him double over in laughter, still dry as can be as he lingered safely under the building’s overhang. “Let’s see how you like it.”

Determined to share the wetness of your rain-soaked figure with him, you advanced toward him, ready to pull him into an uncomfortable hug—but before you could do so, he disappeared right before your eyes.

You halted, letting out a confused sound. When you heard the familiar tone of Loki’s laughter you whipped your head to the side, seeing him standing a few feet away from you, still underneath the safety of the overhang.

You were about to ask how he had done that so fast, but quickly closed your mouth when you realized he was using his seidr.

“No fair! That’s cheating.” 

“Is it now?” He smirked.

You stood there glaring at him, plaguing your mind to come up with the best way to get past his magic. There weren’t many viable options, so you played the worst card of them all to get him within reaching distance.

Wrapping your arms around your body, you began to shiver, teeth chattering loudly. “I-If you ch-cheat that means…”

You cut yourself off, feigning a cough as if you were getting ill from the cold. “T-that means-.”

He was near you in an instant, features no longer displaying arrogance, but severe concern for you instead. It almost made you feel bad. Almost.

“What was I thinking? I should not have done that to you.” He pulled you close, waving a hand over your form. You blinked when you realized you were no longer wet. He had dried you completely.

“I am so sorry, Dove. Let’s get you inside before your chill worsens.”

You shook your head. “N-no I don’t w-want to.”

He frowned, tilting his head at you in bewilderment and that was your queue.

“I was trying to say that if you cheat,” your lips curved into a devious smile. “That means that I can too.”

Knowing it wasn’t going to be easy, you used all the strength in your body to force Loki from under the overhang.

To say he was shocked wouldn't even come close to capturing the utterly stupefied look on his face as he stood there, rigid and drenched by the rain. It was your turn to double over with laughter, having never seen him so completely caught off guard.

“You should see the look on your face!” you taunted, giggling madly. 

Slowly, he turned to you, eyes gleaming with a cold, calculating intensity. His usual calm, soft demeanor towards you was gone and it sent a chill up your spine.

“You little minx,” he growled ominously. “You are going to wish you’d never done that.”

Your eyes widened, and when he took a step towards you, you darted in the opposite direction, heading back out into the rain without much thought. The work that he did to dry you off had been completely undone as you ran through the heavy rainfall.

You could hear the sound of his rapid footsteps close behind you. He was right on your tail. Trying to think fast you took a sharp left into an alley, hoping to catch him off guard. You witness him run past without seeing you and you let out a large breath, wiping the water from your face and backing into the side of the building. 

Except, there was something else behind you. Someone else. Long, sinewy arms wrapped around your frame, and your sharp gasp was covered by a large hand.

His tone was silky as he leaned down to whisper into your ear. “Did you truly think it would be that easy?” 

You blinked, feeling mixed emotions of fear and something else you couldn’t really describe crawling up your spine. Something much different than usual.

He spun you around swiftly, pressing your back against the side of the building as his body crowded yours, his hands braced against the wall. 

You were both still breathing pretty heavily from the chase, but you wouldn’t let him think he won this one. The adrenaline in your body had you behaving in an unusual way.

“How dare you use those abysmal tactics to manipulate me? That was extremely deceptive of you. Though, I must admit it did take me by surprise. I’m impressed.”

“What can I say? I’ve learned from the best.” You stated cheekily, staring up at him in defiance. “Regardless, you’re the one who started this. I just finished it.”

“That is not what it looks like, at least not from my perspective,” he teased. 

“Of course, you’d think that. Now let me go so I can go inside and get dried. I feel like a soaked mess and I probably look even worse.”

His face softened at your words, an indiscernible expression crossing his face. A familiar one you had seen a few days before.

“What’s wrong?” you asked a worried frown of your own forming on your face.

He paused for a moment, his eyes tracing your features closely, following the path of the water droplets sliding down your cheek before he finally spoke.

“Would it truly be so unorthodox?” He breathed out.

“What exactly?”

He licked his lips before his eyes met yours again. “Would it truly be that absurd to believe that I would want you?”

You froze, your breath leaving your body as you took in his words. Eyes darting around in every direction, you tried to come up with an answer or a clever comeback, really anything that would suffice. But you were completely lost for words.

“Perhaps you are not truly hearing me when I speak about you, or do you not realize how beautiful you are, inside and out?”

You drew a quick, shallow breath, wide eyes meeting his intense green ones again. 

“It pains me to hear you speak of yourself so poorly as if you wouldn’t be worthy of me when it is the exact opposite, in fact.”

“Loki…”

“Any man would be lucky to have you regardless of your status or species. Anyone would jump at the chance to be with such an amazing woman, to call you theirs.”

He leaned down, face slowly inching closer to yours. “If only you could see how much of a gift you are, Gersemi.”

Your breath came faster, a lightheaded feeling creeping in as you held the gaze of the god before you. Each word he spoke, revealing exactly what he thought of you, left you reeling.

It felt like too much all at once, yet you couldn’t shake the feeling that this was what you’d wanted all along—even if you hadn’t realized it before, even if you’d refused to acknowledge it before

Your gaze drifted to his lips as your body instinctively leaned closer to his. When you looked back into his darkened eyes, a nervous expression crossed your face. It seemed to have the opposite effect you intended—he blinked, as though snapping himself out of a trance, and took a step back.

You swallowed heavily before letting out a long breath. You didn’t know if it was from relief or disappointment. Maybe a mix of both.

With a faint frown, Loki cleared his throat and glanced down at his shoes. ”We should get inside before you end up catching a cold,” he remarked quietly.

“Y-yeah.” you stammered, “I think you’re right.”

Then suddenly the rain stopped. You looked above you, seeing that it was raining around you, but not on you anymore. You looked at him questioningly.

“Wait, you’re telling me you could do this the whole time?” 

“Of course.” You felt your shoulders relax when his signature smirk appeared on his face. “But what fun would that have been?”

When you both arrived back at the tower you went your separate ways. You headed straight for your room to take a much needed long, hot shower. Your thoughts ran wild from your recent interaction with Loki in the alley outside. The things he said and how he said them had you shivering under the warm spray of the shower. It was as if he introduced something to you that had never crossed your mind. The fact that he seemed to already have come to that conclusion and you were just now catching up had you questioning how long he felt that way about you.

You were probably blowing it out of proportion. It was not like he confessed his undying love or desire for you, but it was sort of adjacent to that. You’re not exactly sure what it was, or if it was going to happen again. What you did know was that you needed some time and space to clear your head before you were ready to speak to him again.

When you exited the bathroom, you heard the familiar chirp of your phone. Picking it up, you saw it was a text from Tony.

Come down to my office, I have a surprise for you. Oh– and bring Loki too.

You frowned, wondering what kind of ‘surprise’ Tony had in store for you and what he was up to. You replied to him saying you’d be there in a few minutes and got dressed. You weren’t sure if Loki was ready to see you so soon either, but it had to be done.

You both walked to Tony’s office in complete silence. It wasn’t exactly awkward or uncomfortable, but it wasn’t normal either.

“Kid, Reindeer Games, come on in!” Tony called out cheerfully as you and Loki stepped into his office. “There’s someone that I want you to meet.”

You were surprised to find Steve sitting in one of the chairs in front of Tony’s desk. He turned to you, sending you a reassuring smile.

You almost didn’t notice the other person in the chair beside him–someone unfamiliar.

She was a brunette, and a very tall by the looks of it. You confirmed this when she stood up, smoothing down her dress before reaching a hand out to you. 

“This is Sarah. If things go well, she’ll be working with us for a while so please give her a warm welcome.”

“Oh, that’s great!” You said, shaking her hand with a grin. “What department will she be working in?” You couldn’t tell by the way she was dressed. She looked as if she should be walking in a Victoria's Secret fashion show by how gorgeous she was.

“Let’s just say she’ll be working very closely with you and Loki,” Tony smirked. “Especially Loki.”

You didn’t understand what he meant by that, not until you saw her shaking Loki’s hand, a wide grin spread across her pretty face.

“Nice to meet you both.” She said, “I’m Loki’s new girlfriend.”

**𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘢𝘭𝘦𝘳𝘵**: 𝘐 𝘸𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘵𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘍&𝘊 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘪 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘢𝘺 𝘪𝘴 𝘫𝘦𝘴𝘶𝘴 𝘤𝘩𝘳𝘪𝘴𝘵. 𝘐’𝘮 𝘴𝘰 𝘨𝘭𝘢𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘮𝘺 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘮𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘦𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘢𝘮𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘤𝘢𝘭 𝘦𝘳𝘳𝘰𝘳𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘦𝘭𝘴𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘤𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘦 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘭𝘥. 𝘏𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳…. 𝘐’𝘮 𝘨𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘋𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘓𝘰𝘬𝘪’𝘴 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘺 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘪𝘵’𝘴 𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘤𝘶𝘵𝘦. 𝘐𝘵’𝘴 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘪’𝘮 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘧𝘪𝘤 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘺𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘴 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘴𝘰 𝘪𝘵’𝘴 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘤𝘰𝘰𝘭. 𝘐 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦𝘯’𝘵 𝘳𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘺 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘪 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘵 𝘴𝘰 𝘪𝘵 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭𝘴 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢 𝘯𝘦𝘸 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳.  𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘰𝘯 𝘐 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘤𝘦𝘥 𝘮𝘺𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧 𝘵𝘰 𝘥𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘪𝘮𝘮𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘦 𝘮𝘺𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘺 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘢𝘪𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘰𝘳. 𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘧𝘪𝘤 𝘵𝘰 𝘨𝘰 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘢 𝘣𝘢𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘯𝘴 𝘐 𝘨𝘰𝘵𝘵𝘢 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬 𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘥–𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘳𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘮𝘦, 𝘐 𝘢𝘮. 𝘈𝘯𝘺𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘐 𝘩𝘰𝘱𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘨𝘶𝘺𝘴 𝘦𝘯𝘫𝘰𝘺𝘦𝘥. 𝘐 𝘤𝘢𝘯’𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘪𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘯𝘦𝘹𝘵 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘵𝘦𝘳. 𝘛𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘳𝘢𝘮𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘶𝘱 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 (𝘐’𝘮 𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘰𝘶𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘭). 𝘗𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘮𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘴, 𝘪 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮 𝘴𝘰 𝘮𝘶𝘤𝘩. 💚🥰 𝘗.𝘴. 𝘮𝘺 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘵𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘰𝘧 𝘎𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘦𝘮𝘪 𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘯𝘴 “𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘪𝘰𝘶𝘴” 𝘣𝘵𝘸 🤭

Story Masterlist

✦ 𝘚𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘺 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬 𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘢��� 𝘥𝘰. 𝘙𝘦𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘨𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘴 𝘮𝘰𝘵𝘪𝘷𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 🤍

✦ 𝘐𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘦𝘯𝘫𝘰𝘺 𝘮𝘺 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘦 𝘵𝘰, 𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘶𝘱𝘱𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘦 𝘰𝘯 𝘒𝘰-𝘧𝘪 ✨: 𝘩𝘵𝘵𝘱𝘴://𝘬𝘰-𝘧𝘪.𝘤𝘰𝘮/𝘥𝘢𝘳𝘬𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘪𝘵𝘺24

𝘛𝘢𝘨 𝘓𝘪𝘴𝘵: @aintnooooway @mischief2sarawr @talesofadragon @cass0419 @lcolumbia1988 @timeladyrikaofgallifrey @echo-is-worth-more-than-2000  @juliannarayvenne

[just-j916]

The Guilt of a Gunshot

This is inspired by this post from @ideasarestuckinmyhead! : read here!

This is also my first fanfic that has been sitting in my drafts for about a month now—so enjoy!

Word count: 1467

The silence after the shot was eerie; so eerie that it almost hurt. Sugarboo slowly lowering their arm that held the gun as the adrenaline had started to wear off.

They felt like they could scream, cry, do something, anything to prove that they felt something after shooting Derek. But… no. They couldn’t. Not after what they did. They knew what they were getting themselves into. They… asked for this. They did this for their boys. Even though they might not forgive them for what they had done.

Before they walked to the door, Sugarboo looked at Derek’s lifeless body, emotionless. No remorse. No mercy. Just blank.

Upon opening the door, to their confusion, there seemed to be nobody in the bar anymore. 


‘Did everyone leave?’ They thought. They figured the gunshot was loud but they didn’t anticipate that everyone would scramble. They then thought back to what Alphonse said. The gun would be enough to scare rats shitless.

They looked around and noticed two bodies on the ground of the bar. One of them being the “guard” that they’d seen when they first walked in with Derek and the other was… familiar. The confusion turned into fear as they realized that the other body was Seth’s.

“Holy shit! Seth! Oh god, you—you’re bleeding!”

They carefully and somehow successfully managed to pick up Seth’s body, considering he was taller and bigger than they were. They carefully placed his head on their shoulder as they tried to gently shake Seth awake. They knew that this was their fault that he was like this. He must’ve come looking for them. And that thought alone was enough to make Sugarboo’s heart drop.

“Seth… please wake up. I’m so sorry. I didn’t—I didn’t mean for this to happen to you I just—!”

“Sugar…”

That sentence alone was enough to cause them to pause. They looked down at Seth’s face and noticed that he was conscious.

“Seth! Thank goodness you’re alright! I’m so sorry about everything I just—!”

“Shh… Sugar… it’s alright. I’m alright. I’m just… so tired.”

“Seth, please stay awake… just until I can find Alphonse so he can drive you to a hospital. Where is he? If you’re here then shouldn’t he be close by?”

“No, he’s at the train yard. We… split up to look for you.”

They figured that their boys would look for them. But it didn’t hurt any less hearing it aloud.

“I guess I’ll have to get there by foot. I can’t risk your injury getting worse but I can’t just leave you here—fuck! What do I do?”

Just as they finished their statement as they dredged out the bar with Seth in their arms, they noticed a similar van pull up.

“Is that… Charlie’s van?”

Sugarboo looked at Seth confused until the passenger window rolled down revealing Jessie.

“Ma, how did you get that hunk-a-junk to start?”

The question asked was quickly interrupted by Jessie.

“There’s no time for questions, hun. Just get in the van so we can get you boys to a hospital. I already picked up Alphonse from the train yard and he’s… well… roughed up.”

This caused Sugarboo to freeze up. Both of their boys had gotten hurt because of them? They devised this plan to try to help them but instead they… made everything… worse.

Jessie seemed to notice the expression on Sugarboo’s face and she was quick to cut them from their thoughts.

“Sugar, Alphonse is going to be okay. I promise. We just need to get both of them checked out to make sure nothing else serious is wrong.”

This was three hours ago. Three long, excruciating hours. They sat in the waiting room, embarrassed, ashamed, and just… empty. They had solved their problem but at what cost? The boys getting hurt? Them being tainted? It hurt. It hurt so fucking much. But they didn’t have any right to feel like that. They had to be the strong one. The one who kept everything together. The one who fixed everything.

They had managed to help Alphonse and Seth to make amends. They had managed to create countless goodies for people across their nowhere town. They had managed to keep everything together even when they felt like a third-wheel when the three were in the same house. Their house. Why did being strong hurt so bad?

They were pulled out of their thoughts when they heard footsteps walking towards them. They looked up to find Jessie, who gave them a slightly solemn look.

“You alright, Sugar?”

They could barely move. Whether it was from shock or just pure exhaustion, nodding their head seemed like an almost impossible task. Keyword: almost.

“I… I’m fine.”

Jessie sighed before taking a seat right next to them before putting a hand on their shoulder.

“Sugar if you need to cry, then cry. I promise I’m not going to judge you for doing so.”

With that sentence, everything about their facade seemed to fall as quickly as the tears fell down. They quietly sobbed as Jessie wrapped her arms around them.

“They’re going to be so… pissed at me.”

“No, Sugar, I promise you those boys aren’t going to be angry at you. They love you so much. They are in that room right now, waiting for you. Hell, when I went in there the first thing that Alphonse asked me was if you were alright. They are going to be thrilled to see you.”

Were they though? Would they accept the fact that they shot Derek? Would they still accept them if they had blood on their hands now?

After a few minutes, they seemed to have settled down, so Jessie escorted them to the room the boys were staying in. They looked at the door, scared. They took a deep breath before knocking on the door. They heard a familiar voice, which seemed to be Alphonse’s, telling them to come in.

Once they opened up the door, they slowly slipped into the room, their eyes quickly darting to the ground. Too afraid to look either of them in the eyes.

“Boo! Hey! There you are!”

“Hey, Sugar…”

Both of the boys quickly could tell something was up as they both glanced at each other from their separate beds before turning back to Sugarboo.

“Boo, are you alright? You aren’t hurt are you? Come here.”

Sugarboo walked over towards Alphonse’s hospital bed before taking a seat in front of Alphonse. He scanned them for injuries and didn’t see anything visible. While the injuries weren’t visible to him, he could tell that they had been crying, so they were obviously upset. He cupped their cheek with his hand and slowly turned their head to look at him.

“Boo, I can tell you’ve been crying. What’s the matter? Derek didn’t hurt you, did he?”Alphonse managed to breathe out.

They shook their head before they started to weep. The tears fell down their face once again. What happened to keeping it together in front of them? They don’t know.

Alphonse quickly wrapped them in a tight hug with one of his hands on the back of their head, slowly brushing his hand through their hair, trying to comfort them.

“I’m so sorry… the both of you got hurt because of me. I wanted to help and I just—!”

“Boo… shhh… it’s okay…”

“No it’s not! I fucked up and you both should be upset with me right now…”

“Hey… Boo, look at me…”

Reluctantly, they turned their head upwards towards Alphonse.

“You have absolutely nothing to be sorry for. While what you did scared me a bit, I’m not mad at you…”

“Well, you should be…”

“Boo, what you did took guts. I wouldn’t ever be mad at you for doing what you did. Although, I would appreciate a heads up next time…” Alphonse admitted, smiling softly at Sugarboo.

Seth watched the two fondly as he sat up in his hospital bed. Seth laughed before following up with, “Yeah, I would prefer if there wasn’t a next time. Ever.”

Sugarboo turned away from Seth, chuckling at his words before looking back at Alphonse. They looked at the bruises and marks on him as the guilt began to wash over them once more.

“Boo, hey… I’m alright. It’s nothing that I haven’t dealt with before,” Alphonse admitted with a slight smile on his face.

Tears welled up in Sugarboo’s eyes as they tried so hard to hold it together. Seeing him like that hurt. They knew that this was their doing.

Almost immediately and instantaneously, both boys are by their side, comforting them. Even if they didn’t know if they deserved such kindness after what they did, they chose to bask in the warmth provided by their boys. Just for a little while longer.

[thefifthlight]

Entry 1: The First Key

January 20, 2025

Not everything you see is real. Not everything real is seen.

That’s the first truth I’ll give you. Call it a key, if you like. A small one—something to slip into your pocket until you’re ready to use it.

I’ve spent centuries walking among you, blending in, playing the part. I’ve seen empires fall, watched revolutions spark, and started fires of my own just to see how far they’d burn. And the funny thing is, most of you don’t even notice when someone like me is standing right in front of you.

I’ve gotten good at hiding. Early thirties, blonde hair, blue eyes. Handsome enough to make you pause, but not enough to make you suspicious. I smile when I should, stay quiet when it’s expected, and most of the time, people don’t look twice. But sometimes they do. Sometimes they can’t help it.

That’s when it gets interesting.

Why am I writing this now? Honestly, I’m not sure. Maybe I’m testing you. Maybe I’m testing myself. Maybe I just want to see if anyone’s paying attention.

You’re not here by accident. People don’t find things like this unless they’re looking for them, even if they don’t realize it yet.

So here’s what I’ll leave you with:

I’ve stood in the rooms where history was decided. I’ve whispered in the ears of kings, brokers, and fools. And every time, I’ve asked myself the same question: What would you do if you had the power to shape the world—and no one knew you were there?

Think about it.

The locks are broken. The truths are loose. What you do with them is your choice.

- S.W.

[yeonmuse]

`✦ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹ Curtain Call ·˚ ༘

ᥫ᭡ f!Oc x lee heeseung ── 𝒢enre. Uni au. fluff, non idol enha. feats. ot7 [reqs are open] ᝰ.ᐟ 𝓁ibrary 🪷

ᦓynopsis Heeseung has a thing for the theaters golden girl, he’s been crushing on her for months. He’s got it so bad for her that he somehow lets Jake talk him into attending auditions just to get closer to her. (This is part of admins University series)

Almost kissed you

(Texts are at the end if you want I skip the written portion)

Saying that Heeseung was nervous would be an understatement, this would be his first time coming face to face with her again after last night's debacle. The more he thought about the failed attempt at a kiss the more his stomach twisted in knots. So now as he stood outside her apartment door with snacks and get-well remedies filling his arms he was starting to second guess his decision to come here. Though he had no time to back out, he had already knocked and the door came swinging open and there she stood in all her glory, beautiful as ever even when sick.

“Heeseung!” The slight excitement in her voice upon seeing him at least gave him a slither of hope that this wouldn’t be awkward for them.

As he stepped inside his nose was immediately caressed by her scent, the scent of fresh lavender, berries and jasmine; and warmth of the apartment hugged his skin.

“Where should I bring this?” He turns to look at her as she closes and locks the door once he’s evidently inside. His eyes drink her in for the nth time and he can’t help but get lost in every detail of her in the moment.

“The kitchen is fine, it's over here.” Of course she had noticed his staring, how could she not when it was something that he had done with her often. Only this time the feeling that engulfed her when he looked at her was different. She felt butterflies swarm her stomach the moment she turned to find his eyes upon her. She felt his gaze burning into her skin even as she led him into the kitchen.

“What did you bring?”

“Seaweed soup, jasmine and ginger tea, cold medicine, and I grabbed some ice cream as well.”

“Mm you brought more than I thought you would.”

“I need to make sure my girls nice and healthy before the upcoming showcase.”

‘My girl’ two simple words alone had her crumbling on the inside. Though Heeseung himself didn’t even seen to realize the words heads fallen from his lips

“Heeseung about yesterday.”

Heeseungs heart dropped in his chest, he knew that the two couldn’t have gone without talking about it but he didn’t think that they’d be speaking about it now.

“I'm sorry i should have never, I shouldn't have just went for it like that”

“I wanted to kiss you Heeseung.”

Chapterlist | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

🔖 @jwonistic @bubblytaetae @pkjay @heesallure @planetmarlowe @dreeki @butterflywonz @lillotus17 @squiishymeow @river-demon-slayer @jiamini @sol3chu @st4rryst4r @firstclassjaylee @right-person-wrong-time

[uselessmoonlight]

Stranger part 8

Reader is Telemachus' friend, and when he leaves for his "diplomatic mission" he asks her to watch over his mother.

Later, once the king has returned, she stumbles upon an injured Poseidon.

Previous / series masterlist / next

☆☆☆

Content specs: she/her pronouns used, afab reader, Platonic! Telemachus x reader, Epic!Poseidon x reader, possible OOC!Poseidon, Polites’ daughter! Reader, unrequited love, blood, fighting, nudity, illusion, possibly more?, trying to avoid using y/n, slowburn, suggestive themes, but no smut, English is not my first language, sorry if it's too much exposition, it's my first fic.

Ónoma literally means name in Greek, at least according to google translate. View this as the y/n of this fic.

☆☆☆

A/N: I'm thinking of opening up requests, is that something you'd be interested in?

☆☆☆

Hermes had not expected the girl to get this emotional from his message, though he supposed human emotions were a fickle thing. They worried about silly things all the time. Aside from being caught of guard, he was way out of his depth in trying to comfort the distraught woman. “There there, sorrows, prayers.” Was his futile attempt.

“Please just leave me alone.” It was the first time the girl had spoken in his company, and he’d decided he quite liked the sound of her voice. Even if he’d like it better if it was a bit more upbeat.

“I don’t offer mortals this often, but perhaps I can relay a message for you.” It was also the first time he’d shown himself in her presence, rather than just remaining invisible. He thought it necessary, given the circumstances, he could’ve told her the news with a bit more grace.

Through teary eyes Ónoma looked up at the winged man. If she wasn’t so distraught, she would’ve been mesmerized at the sight of the feathers. “You would do that?”

“No, I just said I would, I didn’t actually mean it.” The God deadpanned. “Yes, I’ll deliver a message, voluntarily. I only delivered your brothers message because he was so persistent.”

“You mentioned he reunited with father, but what of my other brother, or my mother?”

“He’s with your mother as well, as for your other brother… It seems Apollo’s wrath will not allow him to rest amongst his family, he’s a bit of a wondering spirit?”

“You don’t know where he is, do you.”

“Exactly darling, are you sure you’re not one of Athena’s?”

She rolled her eyes, but she could not deny that her spirits were somewhat lifted. “That was not something particularly difficult to grasp, but I’ll take the compliment. As for the message, could you tell them that I’m alright? And tell my father that king Odysseus has returned.”

“I will, now, I’ve gotta run, but don’t think this is the last you’ll see of me.” He gave her a lopsided smirk, then took off like lightning.

☆☆☆

Peach was till sat at the shore, once again mindlessly playing the lyre. She played a haunting melody, singing along softly. The sun was scorching, it had reached high noon, but she’d yet to move. Frozen and overwhelmed with grief. Unbeknownst to her Telemachus had looked for her when he woke up, when he could not find her in the palace he went to her home. He’d knocked, but had gotten no answer, but through the window he’d seen someone laid in bed.

He'd thought it to be his friend at first, but then he heard the music. The heartbreaking song she was playing clued him in that something was definitely wrong. He was incredibly curious about who was laid in his best friends bed, but if she didn’t bring it up, he would not ask. For now.

Wordlessly he walked to where she was sat, took of his sandals, and settles next to her. The fact that she didn’t immediately notice his presence worried him. Ónoma was the most observant person he knew, always on guard as if someone would come and strike her down at any moment. He supposed her worries were not misplaced. She’d lost everyone she loved and had definitely made some enemies through her line of work, not that they’d retaliate anytime soon, if they were good, god-fearing Greeks.

Her quiet demeanour could be a bit unsettling, and it definitely gave her a hard time when making friends, but whenever the opportunity presented itself she’d greeted it with open arms. At least, she used to. She’d been acting different since he’d returned, perhaps it was because of the suitors, perhaps it was because of whoever was laid in her bed, or maybe it was something different. Whatever it was, he hoped she’d get back to her usual self soon, but until then, he’d be a shoulder for her to lean on. The conversation he was aching to have would have to wait a bit longer, his friendship was more important.

Maybe he hadn’t given his friend enough credit, she’d definitely noticed his presence, as she had placed her head on his shoulder, but continued playing and singing. She was basking in the calm he radiated, as she felt anything but. As she finished her song a comfortable silence settled. She wanted to tell her friend everything, but didn’t know where to start, so she started with what was at the forefront of her mind.

“Hermes came to me.” She started then paused. Telemachus raised an eyebrow; it was rare for a God to show up.

“I take it he did not have good news, then?”

“Cosmas has passed.” Telemachus remained silent, he had fond memories with the older boy, but he’d not had the same love for him as he did for the man’s sister. He’d taught him a lot but had not had long to do so. It’d been five years since the two of the had seen Cosmas, but his loss still stung. For her more so than for Telemachus. She’d officially lost all of her family.

They’d sat in silence for what could have been hours before she spoke up again. “There’s a man in my house.” She’d taken her head off his shoulder when his head whipped around to face her. So, she had chosen to tell him of the person he’d seen. He’d not expected the person to be a man, however. A nauseating feeling churned in his chest.

“I know nothing but his name. I found him, injured along this very shore. I couldn’t just leave him, but he’d rather annoying, and brash, and ugh. I want him gone, but I could not possibly kick him out. I haven’t had the best of luck when it comes to Gods, and I do not want to piss them off. But there’s no place for me to sleep with him here, and it’s just-” She stopped abruptly, sighed, and once more laid her head on Telemachus’ shoulder.

“How’s it been, having your father back?” The change in topic made Telemachus’ head spin, but he’d go with whatever topic Peach  wanted to talk about.

“It’s been good, but tense. It’s like walking on eggshells, while also being coddled? It’d like he’s yet to process that I am no longer the infant he left when he went to war, and the outbursts are, a lot. Anything can set him off, I’m sorry you had to go through that by the way, must not have been a great first impression.”

“It was not. My first impression of him, I mean. The first time I met the man he was covered in the blood of more than 70 men.”

“Right.” He chuckled.

“How are you, by the way? You almost died and I didn’t even ask. I’m such a bad friend.”

“I’m fine, though I did get freaked out when I got twisted in my blankets and couldn’t get out. It took mom an hour to calm me down.” He said, awkwardly blushing from head to toe. “Can’t wear anything too tight, either, feels like I’m in the hands of the suitors again.”

“I started with an act of mercy and was met with an attack, it was foolish of me to offer it. I just wish the world was, I don’t know, kinder?”

“It wasn’t foolish, Tele. Kindness is brave, you’re better than I ever will be.” She said softly, but firmly. “I was confronted with something recently and it got me thinking. Tell me, would you protect someone innocent, if in turn, your life would be ruined and possibly end? Because I’m not sure if I would. Is that selfish of me?”

☆☆☆

A/N: I definitely did not get caught up staring at my ceiling while writing this. I was gifted one of those aurora borealis lamps recently and I’ve just been staring at the lights. ADHD go brrrr, pic below.

Hermes is not romantically interested in the reader, more lik how Zeus loved to give Odysseus moral dilemma's, he finds her intriguing.

Also, one of the fics I’m reading got updated, which I had to read of course. If you’re looking for recs I’ll list them here, but if you’ve found this fic, you’ll likely have already found these.

Aphrodite’s gamble

Warrior

Cycles of you, Cycles of me

Godly things

Catch me if you can

Warrior of the sun and moon

Blessed by a Trickster

Taglist:

@apollos-dodgeball-target

@barrythestrawberry041

@doodle-with-rhy

@isla-finke-blog

@suckerforblondies

@trashcannotbealive

[obsessedwithstarwars]

Question for the DP fandom:

Do you think Danny’s hair turns white when it falls out? It’s technically dead cells anyway but when it naturally falls off his head, do you think it turns white? Because I think it would be hilarious if his hairbrush just has white hair, no black strands whatsoever, and his significant other thought the worst until they know his secret.

[theshadowrealmitself]

Harry Osborn who Knows™️ about Peter being Spiderman, seeing him about to be caught by a supervillain and almost having his identity being revealed around a huge crowd of people, panicking and doing the only thing he can think of, which is slamming into the villain with his car, and trying to play it off afterward like “oh man, typical rich dude of me to fail at driving, since I’m usually driven around by a chauffeur, totally didn’t mean to slam into this dude for any specific reason”

[waywardstation]

WIP FRIDAY

I apologize for getting this out two days late, I’ve been busy with lots of packing and events! But I have a little reprieve, so I wanted to post another WIP; this one is from Heart Full, Bowl Empty.

BE AWARE THAT THIS SEGMENT INVOLVES A CONVERSATION REVOLVING AROUND UNWILLING BUT INTENTIONAL STARVATION. I know there are people who say they can’t read this fic because of themes like this, so be aware of this before reading this WIP!!

I included this snippet in today’s WIP because I have like three versions of the entire segment this snippet is from. I feel like it’s a really important segment with a really important conversation, and I’ve had a hard time balancing all the emotions the way I want to between Ingo and Akari, with frustration, sadness, anger, and empathy, to realistically get them to the resolution I want at the end of it.

The final version will probably only include a few parts from this particular segment.

Enjoy!!

—————

“I knew it! You’re doing it again!” Akari’s eyebrows scrunched, trying to understand through the frustration. “You said you wouldn’t!”

“Circumstances will improve soon.” Clearly done with the conversation, that was all Ingo said, but it was confession enough that he had fallen back on his word. Shame contaminated his voice, but if there was any regret, he hid it well.

“No, it won’t!” They were not even half-way through winter yet. “And you know it won’t!”

Ingo said nothing as the kits carefully moved around his slumped form, finding comfortable places to settle around him. She didn’t know if he intended to snuff the conversation out with angered silence, or if he was just too exhausted to care about arguing with her anymore. If it wasn’t for his small occasional signs of movement or acknowledgement, she’d think he was actually sleeping.

Akari carefully stepped into the nesting layers, moving to sit down next to Ingo. She settled with her back against the cavern wall, pulling her knees close as a few kits shuffled around to accommodate her. “You know I’m right.”

Huffing out an irritated sigh and nothing more, it didn’t seem like Ingo had any intentions to engage with her argument anymore.

“You couldn’t even pull yourself up over the ridge,” She prodded at him again, trying to motivate more conversation out of him. “I had to help you!”

“There are many, many factors that go into that.” A reluctant answer, perhaps a reflexive attempt to quell her worry; Ingo feebly rubbed his wrapped hand, almost as a display for his excuse.

“I’ve seen you do more when you’ve been hurt worse.” Akari retorted, a little softer now but still cold.

Ingo’s eyes remained closed, though his hardened expression implied that it came across as more accusatory than she’d intended. But perhaps it was precisely the time to be accusatory.

“Ingo, you’re so tired all the time now – you stopped coming to the training grounds because you just can’t make the trips all the time anymore! And you’re sleeping so much more than you used to, and it’s like you’re always hungry all the time, even though all I see you doing anymore is gathering food!” Akari’s voice grew more jagged as she continued to jab at him, entirely uninterrupted.

It was getting difficult. With Ingo’s tunic still sopping by the bucket, still somewhat red from the exhausted effort of washing out the blood, it could not hide the ribs that pressed out just a little bit more, or help fill out what the waistline had lost under the loosening belt. The abject dread of directly acknowledging that was too much.

“And- and look! You aren’t even willing to hold a conversation with me anymore, and I don’t know if it’s because you just won’t, or because you can’t!” The kits shifted uncomfortably as Akari retreated back into her own frustration instead. “People think you’re sick, Ingo! They’re asking me about you! What are you doing?”

The exhausted man remained where he laid in the nesting material, only moving his hands to rub at his face and sigh — a deep, forced sigh that swelled his side before releasing. Akari almost didn’t think he’d answer her, but with some effort, he propped himself up first onto his elbows, then slumped forward. The teen watched him run shaky fingers through his hair as he sat next to her.

“…I don’t know what I should do.” The guilt. The weary guilt cracked his voice and tore Akari’s anger down to heartache.

[idkhowtopickausername]

I’ve really not been functioning well mentally lately 😔

[screampied]

JUNO, YOU KNOW! k. nanami

☆ sum. last thing nanami would expect was to get struck by a “fatal” love curse during the very end of no nut november. you tease him even more by saying one of you is cute….but two though?

wc. 8.1k

warnings. fem! reader, husband! nanami, unprotected, sēx pollen, mentions of pregnancy, fluffy smut <3, handcuffs, brēeding, cunnīlingus, him finishing too quick, cowgirl, praise, soft dom! nanami, cērvix mentions, size kink, he's soooo whipped n in love w youuu, (bless his dad's genetics), boob obsessed nanami, aftercare, petnames.

an. my entry for @luv-lies's yummy nnn collab! ❤︎

november 29th, 2024. 6:09 P.M.

december was right around the corner - but oh, was nanami kento fuckin’ screwed.

“nanamin!” satoru—his colleague hollered, speedily rushing over to him. they’d just defeated an unarmed A-cursed spirit unlike any they’d ever seen before. it was quite strong, but it was nothing the pair couldn’t handle. satoru glances down, extending out his hand. nanami grunts, swiping a hand over his sweat-glossed forehead before sighing. he’s a bit roughed up but takes satoru’s cold palm with an irked grumble. “you alright? that was quite the hard hit.”

“ ‘m fine, gojo,” he grouses, readjusting his glasses. with a swift hand, he fixes his crooked tie. “just hah- underestimated the opponent. don’t fret.”

he wasn’t ‘just fine’ though. nanami felt his entire body starting to arise with scorching temperature within a matter of seconds. he’s boiling hot- and it felt like his heart was pounding straight out of his chest. perplexed, satoru furrows a snowy brow at his comrade once he notices his awkward body language.

“what do you need? tell me- maybe we can-”

nanami was clenching his chest with one hand, panting heavily before letting off a raspy huff.

“i need . . my wife.”

the car ride home was silent.

satoru offered to take him home, wondering just what really happened. nanami was as stubborn as a mule though, so he didn’t question it further. he’d rather not get scolded. his head rests against the tented window as he stares outside.

driving through the rutted bumpy roads of tokyo, nanami’s droopy eyes occasionally drifted away from the bright street lights that merely blinded his naked eye from gazing a bit too long.

as usual, the city was packed, dozens of cars zooming by with the flashy beaming store signs. in the background, some random song was playing. it was pop—and of course, satoru was loudly humming along to the catchy poppy melody.

the lyrics were quite . . vulgar though, but nanami still remained quiet, focusing his eyes on the streets.

skrrrrrrrt!

satoru’s breaks eventually come to a stop. it was about maybe a good ten-minute drive and he arrived at you and nanami’s cozy minka. the light was on so he assumed you were probably still up. placing the rusty shift in the park, the white-haired sorcerer turns to nanami with a cheeky grin.

“take it easy, alright? ‘m sure the curse will wear off at some point,” and nanami scoffs once his palm pats his shoulder. reaching for his seatbelt, the blond click it off before unlocking the door. “oh! and tell your wifey i said hi!”

“sure thing, gojo.” nanami stops himself from rolling his eyes, reaching near the backseat to retrieve his dusty suitcase. with a loud vroooom, satoru’s aqua-blue convertible takes off and nanami starts to make his way toward the door.

glancing down, he fishes for his keys in his pocket, grumbling under his breath.

god- he feels so damn hot. even hotter than when the attack occurred..

was this supposed to be normal?

all he knew was that he wanted, no- he needed you.

something in his body . . whatever it was, was direly aching for you.

the entire car ride, nanami’s mind was entirely flooded with thoughts of you, you, and only you.

whenever he had missions, he’d always think about you, sure. but this time- this time was far, far different.

he felt like he was gonna melt right away if he didn’t touch you, if he didn’t smell you-

“ken…to?” you murmur with a quirked brow, standing behind the tall sliding door. nanami stiffly stood at the doorway, keys still idly in hand with the most dumbfounded look.

oh- he was so kept in his thoughts that he didn’t even realize you had already slid the door open.

you looked so pretty though. nanami could feel his face softening once his eyes locked onto you.

it was pretty dark at night but like always, he could make out your gorgeous physique as clear as day. you were actually wearing one of his business shirts with what he hoped were panties underneath once he took a glance between your bare thighs.

his fawn eyes continue to trace down every exposing inch of your skin, and he snaps back into reality once he feels your palm cup his cheek.

“hi, baby. how was the mission?” you hum.

“not hah- that good,” he pants, and you furrow your brows once he steps inside, sliding the door closed and tossing his suitcase to the floor. it lands with a banging thud, and nanami pulls you into a hug.

a coy smile goes against your lips, wondering why he’s being more clingy than usual, but nanami rests his face right on top of your chest. letting off a smoky sigh, he roughly grumbles, gently rubbing a thumb against your hips. “mmf- i missed you, sweetheart.”

with a soft expression, you comb a few tangled fingers through his blond tresses. “i missed you more.”

“no- i really missed you,” he protests, and you can see a bit of a pout forming against his lips. nanami’s drowsy eyes trail down at the bit of skin that shows through his shirt. it was a bit loosely oversized, and you smelled just like him. his cologne was good on you. so good.

uh oh- he was starting to feel even more hot.

just resting against your chest had him hearing the repetitively unsteady beats of his heart through each of his sensitive pointed ears. “at the mission today . . i got struck by a curse.”

with a worrying look, your face shifts into a look of concern. “a- are you okay? what happened?”

“ ‘m fine,” he lets out a muffled huff of reassurance. nanami breathes against your skin, sweetly planting kisses against the cotton fabric that shields the entirety of your chest. “i feel really hot though.. everywhere- not just my head,” he speaks once the back of your hand lands on his forehead, checking for a temperature.

indeed, he felt hot.

sepia-colored irises flicker up toward you before he shivers. “when you . . touch me, honey- it makes me feel weak. hah- like i feel-”

“aroused?” you finish his sentence, your concerned look slowly disappearing.

oh.

thankfully, it wasn’t anything serious . . or was it?

nanami stares at you with a cute head nod being his answer as you press a kiss on his warm forehead. “so was it some type of love curse?”

nanami’s breath becomes deeper as he takes a minute to formulate words in his overstimulated brain. “m- maybe. all i know is that i just- i want you…i need you,” and he sighs deeply, eyes lowering. “you look beautiful tonight by the way.”

“it’s still november, baby,” you tease, knowing exactly where he was going with his gruff words. nanami had a feral hungry look in his eyes, and it looked like no other expression of his you’ve seen before.

he lets off a frustrated groan at your words, remembering the little ‘challenge’ you both agreed on once halloween ended.

ah- ‘no nut november’.

where men have to apparently abstain from masturbation and cumming—according to you, specially for the entire month of november.

not that nanami necessarily minded, he had a pretty good tolerance, actually.

but today, of all days?

he felt like he was about to break. being so close to your proximity had nanami’s head spinning.

his face - it’s overly flushed. a pretty tint of pink starts to slowly paint his face as he pouts at you.

you don’t think you’ve ever seen your husband like this—let alone pout. “we made a deal, remember?” you continue, caressing a thumb across his cheek. his chin was still resting on your chest and you could see the frown marinating against his features. “december first.”

“but-” he grunts, watching the smug grin spread across your glossed lips. nanami gets sheepish, tilting his head down. “sweetheart- i know that, but you’re bein’ pretty cruel right now, no?” and you glance down, feeling his lips collide against the skin that briefly exposes your tummy. “do you always wear my work shirts when i’m not home?”

“yeaaah,” you admit, letting off a tiny snicker. nanami feels your shoulders slacken once you release a single breath, and you stare straight into his eyes.

his eyes however, never left yours, not for a millisecond. as the gaze continued, you could see the beads of sweat starting to race down each side of his forehead.

oh-

maybe the curse was serious. getting an idea you decide to amp up your teasing just a bit. “do you wanna know what i was doing earlier while wearing your dress shirt?”

nanami places chaste kisses between the valley of your breasts. “uh huh. tell me, wifey.”

“i . . might’ve been playin’ with myself,” you sweetly speak, and he could hear the tease lacing underneath your sentence.

the more you spoke about what you were doing, nanami was starting to feel even hotter-

and the pure image of you touching yourself with his button-front shirt on, engulfed in nothing but his musky cologne made him groan. it was clear you weren’t wearing panties. he couldn’t help but peek, and sure enough—you were going commando.

nanami keeps his lovingly longing gaze and slowly, he raises his head from between your chest, raising a brow as if silently saying, ‘continue.’

with a cheeky smile, you wrap your arms around his torso. “i couldn’t make myself finish though. my fingers aren’t as long as yours. so, i ended up falling asleep and i had a dream. about . . us.”

“i see,” nanami huskily utters, sinking his head into your left shoulder. you just smelled so so sweet — sweeter ever, and you could see nanami trying to restrain himself. clearing his throat, nanami invades an entire side of your neck with wet, loving kisses. “what was the dream, princess?”

now it was your turn for your heart to start racing.

it was quick, beating at such high beats per minute. with an impish expression, you cup his chin and make him face you.

tenderly rubbing a thumb over his lips, you finish what your cute, lewd admission. “i…uh- dreamt about you retiring as a sorcerer. or you have a safer job that makes you less stressed. we finally . . settled down, and we um . . ended up having kids.”

“kids, huh,” he whispers, dragging a hand through his blond strands. you could feel his feverish heat radiate against your skin and you were surrounded by his balmy warmth.

he wasn’t exaggerating—nanami was truly, truly burning up. the buds on his tongue sizzle each time he takes a fateful second to swallow, salivating the more his eyes focus on you. nanami ponders for a moment silently, and before you know it, he’s picking you up.

you let off a cute surprised gasp, hurling your arms around his neck before watching him sigh. “ah- don’t get shy, my sweet. keep going.”

nanami continues to walk with you in his arms, going up the creaking, wooden stairs and you run a few fingers down your exposed nape.

“we . . had about maybe two or three. you even started growing facial hair too,” and nanami’s grip on your hips softens. he raises a blond brow before trodding inside the quiet bedroom. “you’d make a good dad though, ken,” you purr, running a finger down his amber-dotted tie. “could you imagine though? one of me is cute, but two though?”

“honey-” he cuts off, lying you flat back against the mattress.

with a split-second glimpse underneath the oversized formal shirt you wore—indeed, you weren’t wearing any panties. he had to check just one more time.

nanami starts to pant heavily, watching as you playfully lift your leg, throwing it over his shoulder. “is that- is that what you want? to settle down?”

“only if . . you want to.” you murmur in a soft tone, deeply getting lost in his golden-hour gaze.

nanami’s eyes were bright, shining with nothing but love and adoration for you - always.

if you squinted just enough, you could see his pupils forming into cute-shaped hearts.

grabbing his hand, you place it on your tummy, sliding it underneath the buttoned shirt.

“i want… you,” he huffs, his voice turning from tender to raspy within seconds. nanami leans in and presses his lips against yours. his dimples happily curve forward once you immediately return the gesture, cupping his face with both hands.

right away, nanami moans against your lips as his hot tongue blissfully shoves itself inside your mouth. minty peppermint — it’s exactly what he tasted like, and his cool breath running against your tongue only made him taste sweeter.

nanami couldn’t help but roll his hips against you with his sweaty forehead softly pressed on top of yours.

each popping smack of hungry lips got louder, and he heard the faint clanks of his belt shuffling. you slid a hand down, reaching for the middle part of his pants. you’ve shared many kisses with nanami, but this one seemed different..

a current of chills ran down your spine as he deepened the passionate kiss as the callused tips of nanami’s fingers unbuttoned his shirt.

speaking of his shirt though—he just couldn’t get over how much his shirt was just prettily glued against your skin.

“god- this month’s been torture, sweetheart,” he’d breathe between nearly suffocating kisses.

nanami’s lungs were full, and he’d sometimes even forget to breathe. such full lungs of his were heaving in and out continuously, desperate for any sort of puffs.

they had to find air, they just had to..

but nanami didn’t care about breathing, not when he had his lips ardently locked against yours.

“couldn’t- stop- thinkin’- ‘bout- you-” he grunted in a hoarse tone, sweetly sucking against your lolled tongue. its mushy warmth invites him to continue, and you briefly open your lashes to stare straight into a very needy nanami’s eyes. “hah- you were all i thought about at work today.”

“mhm, breathe, kento,” you whisper, feeling your lips swell the minute he pulls away.

a web of gluey saliva leaves from both sets of puffed lips and he breathes like you said. with a looooong inhale, nanami then exhales before grunting. you simper, tugging on the hem of his beige boxers. “maybe i can . . help with that curse?”

and you did.

in more ways than one, really.

to be brief, nanami kento was a feral man-

he felt himself turning into a brand new man the second his tongue graciously rolls itself flat against the flatness of your pretty twitching clit.

a sharp gasp winds straight out of your lungs as you’re sat with your legs obtusely spread to a wide degree.

with your hands burying themselves underneath your plushy tits as he devoured you—you couldn’t help but toy with yourself for a bit. moaning, a thumb trails its way down against one of your puckered nipples that poke through the fleecy blue dress shirt.

“k- kentooo.” you’d hum out a whimper, a hand finding its way near the top of his head.

he’s slow… badly wanting to savor your sweet taste on his tongue while eating you out like the starved, starved man that he was.

wisping a bundle of fingers through his blond locks, you continue to cup one of your tits with one hand. long, thirsty sluuuurps exited from nanami’s lips as you watched his head frantically shake from side to side.

your tummy was already seizing, and the heel of your ankle started to guide its way down his back. wet, sloshing noises ricocheted against nanami’s lips as his eyes periodically averted back towards you.

he’s giving you the ‘i wanna marry you again’ stare, no doubt. even with his mouth stuffed, nanami kento’s never felt more in love—

maybe this love curse . . pollen, whatever it was was a secret blessing in disguise.

the panicky, racing beats of nanami’s heart never slowed, and a hand of his then grips your thigh. tenderly, you feel the tip of his tongue dipping its way in ‘n out — wetly lathering his pink twitching muscle with your sweet slickness.

your eyes remain on him the entire time, getting forevermore lost in his crave-like gaze. “shh- talk later, princess. promise.” he whispers against your cunt, delving his tongue in swerving, wide circles.

those wide circles eventually curve their way into hearts, though. a whine sobs its way from the back of your throat as the grip on his hair tightens.

you felt the scaly, hot of his tongue create the perfect heart . . even spelling out the simple eight letters of ‘i love you.’

your legs couldn’t hold still, they just couldn’t- and you could feel the skittish smile forming against his lips, tickling against your pussy.

you were drooling from your entrance, right from the puffy slavering slit down. you’re flooded, soddened with such amounts of dewy dewdrops that form into strings, and in a way though, it was pretty.

nanami was just struck in awe at how much you were just profusely leaking. like the gentleman nanami was though, he lapped it right up. his rose-swollen lips cupped everywhere, smothering the crevices of your sheeny thighs with his many, many kisses.

“r- riiiight there, ‘ken,” you’d mewl out a desperate plea, slowly dragging his head against your cunt. it’s moving around in a hypnotizing circle, but if it was anything that was leaving you in a mere trance of a state, it was his tongue.

nanami explores through every puffy wet corner, sloppily slotting his tongue in between your pudgy folds. he grunts against your throbbing heat, feeling the weight of his impatient boner prodding beneath his cotton-made boxers. “mngh- gonna cum. ‘m gonna cum, kento.”

“do it for me,” he soundlessly says, vertically smearing a fat thumb down your slimy pussy.

your entrance was soaked-

tearing away with drooling droplets of slick. every time. he was so enticed that he had to take a minute to just stare at your cunt—admiring how wet his pretty, perfect girl was - just for him.

nanami was entranced once he moved his face closer. the tip of his button nose then literally starts to drag itself down your sobbing slit and he moans, taking in your natural scent. “hah- c’mon, sweetheart. give it t’ me,” and he brings his ring finger right up against your core.

it’s a lanky finger that starts to bedaub against your cunt, feeling you writhe at the sensitive contact.

you whine, feeling his ring finger rub its way against your heat before poking your tongue against your cheek to silence yourself.

as you watch, his digit gets covered with your mess almost immediately, and you shudder at the cold band of his ring toying with your salivating folds. “pretty please-” and oh- he’s begging.

a blond brow of nanami’s quivers as his lips attach back to your cunt. sticky, glistening strings of arousal rills straight down his forward-pointed chin as he continues to rub the back of his wedding ring against your pulsating clit.

it’s icy cold.. you felt him keep up the pace as the material of the band smears itself around in circles before feeling a coil in your tummy tightening.

the pressure makes you see stars for a hot second—and you’re met with a bundle of nerves trying to introduce itself to the lower depths of your stomach. “ ‘m cumming!” you’d blurt in a staggering wail.

the crashing wave of endorphins made you exhale a cute sigh as your legs started to get more and more numb.

you felt like you were floating on every single cloud, including cloud nine - especially cloud nine.

nanami’s tongue still slid its way in between the slot your sappy folds, feeling the cute twitches of your throbbing clit against his bumpy tastebuds as you start to spasm. “fuh- fuck! ‘ken ‘m sensitive, baby.” and your words turn into a mere hush once your body started to limp its way onto the sheets.

your thighs locked around his neck, and you still had his hair in a firm grasp, digging your fingers deep into his roots and scalp.

with widened doe-eyes, you glance back down toward your husband who’s merrily licking you clean without a single care in the world.

if the beats of your heart was a car, you’d be speeding.

it’s beating so fast out of your chest that you can barely keep up. your legs felt like mush as your neck finally gave up, collapsing back against your pillow.

“mmh- should’ve just stayed . . hah- stayed home today,” he grumbles, giving every glossed part of your exposed cunt individual kisses. nanami starts at your pretty clitoral hood, sprightly nibbling at the tender fold of skin. you whine, yanking his head forward before nanami pats your pussy. “could’ve been playin’ with her a- all day.”

“you’re here now.” you speak out of breath, pulling his head back up. once you do so, nanami looks at you with the most pussy drunk expression.

his lips were all plump and red, lashes merely sticking together, and glossed sleek streams of slick racing down his chin. nanami leans into your touch, sitting up before leaning in to kiss you.

again- his tongue sloppily carved a wet trail through your mouth, and you moan once you feel the tint of his boner press up against your bare cunt.

he’s so hard, you wondered if it was painful. you swallowed each grunt of his in your mouth, feeling his body hungrily rock against yours.

a few ash tresses stick against his forehead as his lips violently crash onto yours—creating an impactful collision.

as dancing tongues swiftly twisted and spiraled around each other in sync, you hear a bit of shuffling again.

nanami's reaching into his boxers, grunting against your lips once he feels the anchoring weight of his heavy cock lie flat against his palm. “m- mhm, sweetheart.” he throatily groans, feeling your hand slip inside of his boxers too.

you feel a lightning-shaped vein shoot down his skin and he grunts. nanami was as sensitive as ever, and with your hands softly tracing circles over his bulky triceps, he knew he was in trouble.

deep, deep trouble..

“it’s okay, ‘ken,” you whisper, letting off a sharp inhale once his fiery hot tip smears its way on your cunt.

it’s almost flat out rude at first—with the way it smacks against your folds, creating a wet splash that lands right on his bulbous crown.

from the stout tip that’s round at all thick corners, nanami’s leaking.

milky, pearls of whiteness dribble from the fleshy sides of his fat cock and he grunts once he feels your shaky legs caging him in again.

god- you looked so pretty like this..

just laid back, wearing nothing but his business shirt. all the buttons were unbuttoned so now—it was just you, breasts cutely sprung out and all.

gently grabbing his face once more, you mumble against his flushed temple. “inside, it’s okay. go inside,” and your sweet words were like a chant.

he’s slow-

carefully aligning his maroon tip between your syrupy slit, feeling it clumsily slip out every few thrusts.

you even reached between your legs with a single hand, spreading your pussy open right before his eyes. “don’t be… shy, she doesn’t bite, kento.”

“hhh.. woman- you’re gonna be the death of me,” nanami gulps, openly staring at the slippery heat stick between your legs.

he didn’t know which action had him feeling hotter. your filthy words, you, or the way you spread yourself open for him with just two, cute fingers.

two twinned digits pried your lower lips apart, and he grunts once the swollen head of his cock snugly pops its way past your gummy barrier.

“hngh,” nanami sucks his teeth, pressing his forehead against yours. his palm rests on your tummy before he gives you a tender glance. “is this . . alright?”

chewing on your lip, you moan out a, “y- yeah.” before touching the back of his hand.

nanami’s face softens before he eases himself further inside, squeezing past that cute ring of your entrance that’s just always oh-so tight!

nanami was as round as a teddy bear. a few years into your loving marriage you noticed how he started growing a soft bear-type body, especially with the winter rolling around.

not that you minded, he was the perfect subject for cuddling. in this case, though, he was perfect for gradually placing his weight on you—to which you always ended up loved.

with his dress shirt all wrinkled and unkempt thanks to you, nanami sheathed his face inside of your neck. “g- goddd, ‘s like when i’m inside i feel even hotter.”

the love curse ran through all nanami’s veins, including invading near his bloodstream and every jabbing axon that continued to pulse through his achingly, hot skin.

eventually through . . after a very long three minutes, his gravelly pants started to turn more and more raspy.

browned eyes of nanami’s turn tender at your gaze once you grab both sides of his face, rubbing circles around his hollow cheeks with the soft tips of your thumbs. “don’t hide, look at me.”

“heh- yes ma’am.” he gruffly whispers, tilting his cheek, leaning into your touch.

nanami was on top of you, glued to you entirely as if both bodies were made of pasty adhesive. with your ankle running down his back, it took everything within him to not moan.

every part — every single part of his body felt insanely sensitive to your touch.

nanami would occasionally bite his lip, finding his eyes rolling upward or even letting off a ‘phewww’ just from being a few inches inside of your intoxicating cunt.

as his cock’s driving its way inside at a slow pace, you watch nanami’s blond brows twist into a furrowing curve.

he’s sucking in every breath that tries to escape from him, groaning at each inch that sloppily disappears between your puffed folds. without even taking a glance—nanami could feel how wet you were, and not only were you preparing to milk him dry, but you were also drowning every girthy inch of his cock with all slick amounts of your pretty mess.

he didn’t have to look down because he could just feel – feel your compellingly, vulgar squelches, feel each slosh that sobs between your cunt folds, feel each pulsating throb that would convulse against your clit.

you’re just so damn pretty though..

staring back at him as he’s trying to make his way inside, nanami ends up getting lost in your gummy orifice that’s desperately clinging onto him as if its life depended on it. it’s almost cute..

“f- fuuck.” you’d whine, tugging at his ruffed-up cerulean collar. peering your eyes a bit, you see a bit of faded lipstick marks that were from you earlier this morning.

you smile to yourself, knowing nanami would always proudly show off those marks to any woman who dared look in his direction.

within a few inches deep, nanami’s creating an unforgettable gap that stretches your cunt fully open. he keeps his hooded eyes on you, pressing a few encouraging pecks near your plump, kiss-bitten lips.

he’s never felt so hot..

nanami snaps his hips into you once- just once, and he lets off the prettiest moan.

it sounds more like a whine—it pitches a bit higher than usual and he falls face flat into your chest.

you get sheepish, wrapping your arms around him before feeling him grunting between your breasts. “honey, i think i just . . came.”

“oh,” you breathe, and sure enough, you felt a lukewarm batch of cum starting to pool its way inside of you. your legs remained snaked around his waist and you could feel nanami’s ashamed pout stretch against your chest. you pat his head, leaning in to kiss his forehead. “it’s . . okay, ‘ken.” and he’s kissing all between the slope that runs down your soft tits—his comfort place.

you hum, lifting his head and watching him grumpily pout with loose blond strands running down his eyes. “i can always take the lead if you’re too sensitive.”

“please..”

♡ ♡ ♡

nanami looks up at you with a timid expression, his hands restrained at each side of the bed. gulping deeply, he watches as your slick-glossed cunt just barely floats over his creamy white tip. from the coral-colored sides, it’s a blushing pink…itching for you to be inside again.

just a single inch or the mere feeling of you swiping your entrance back ‘n forth against the peeling hood of cock makes him groan. “handcuffs, honey? this is quite…eh- kinky, no?” nanami raises an ash brow with a weary smile, soft, dusky eyes never leaving yours.

in fact—each time you run your hands down the open slit of his shirt that exposes his blond growing chest hair, he shudders.

just a few fingertips of yours alluringly ghosting down his skin was enough to make him melt. through semi-blurred peripherals, he spots a bright color that sticks against his wrists. “they’re . . pink,” he chuckles, “and fuzzy.”

“it came in the mail yesterday,” you coo at his observation, inching your face closer and starting to kiss down his neck. nanami inhales before sighing in rapture, positioning his head to the side so you could have a better angle and it’s unintentionally sexy. “it’s not too tight…is it?”

“it’s fine,” nanami shakes his head, preparing to take another deep breath once the opening of your pussy starts to sloppily split its way ajar.

you’re sinking on his shaft and he lets out a husky grumble—bulky muscles flexing through his biceps as his arms stretched across both sides of the leather headboard. “mmgh- atta girl. like that- like . . that.” and his voice seductively lowers an octave at every inch.

it was almost hypnotic at how much you were soaking him. truly, you were already soaked but now that your cunt was accepting his vast tip that was descending its way further inside of you, nanami wasn’t sure how much longer he’d last.

profusely, your pretty pussy was drowning him. nanami’s muscles continued to bulge through his shirt as he slouched back against the mattress, watching your hips starting to moderately pick up.

“s- sooo big.” you moan, the stretch wholly expanding through your walls. sometimes—you don’t think you’d ever get used to nanami’s size, let alone his thick, parting stretch.

clicking his tongue, nanami takes every second he can just to stare and openly admire your body.

effortless, you were just effortless with every moment you did.

every twirl, every toss and dip of your hips had him hungry for only more – more of you.

as your pace maintained its rocky rhythm, his eyes found themselves trailing further down, pausing between the crack of your pried-open legs.

seconds pass and they’re now leisurely making their way up your chest, pausing right between your plush rounded mounds.

you still had his business shirts as you rode him, and your tits freely sprung as your hips started to grind quicker. as your hips pathetically stuttered, so did the wooden legs of the bed. “hng- puttin’ me in handcuffs just so i can’t touch my hah- pretty wife, hm?”

nanami tries to joke, but you could already see him breaking a sweat once his cock explores deeper inside of your cunt – zigzagging a bumpy pattern all through your inside.

it’s making sure every part of you from the inside memorizes his hits, sloppy thrusts and all, and fuck- were you about to collapse right then and there.

the sides of nanami’s forehead were already heavily covered in perspiring sweat. with lush tears dribbling down every crevice and corner, nanami starts to huff.

“but baby, you always touch me,” you lively tease, tossing both arms over his tense, pent-up shoulders.

the bed lowly creaks every second, constantly dipping from all the constant movements and pounds that jolt against the rickety aged boxspring.

its constant croaky groans sounded almost painful—and the quicker your hips swerved around and bounced, the louder it cried in the background from both jerking bodies.

nanami pouts, shaking his head and you make him nod by cupping his chin. “yeah, you do.” you then surprise a part of his neck with wet, balmy kisses.

nanami gruffly grunts, desperately wishing his hands were roaming down every part of your body. tending to every part, allowing his fingers to explore every part.

he’d caress circles around your ass—guiding his callused, rough fingers up up up before they eventually reach near your waistline.

with a clingy grip, he’d start to rock your hips faster into him, making sure he pumps all nth inches deep inside until you’re babbling out incoherent cacophonies of his name and how you’re just so full..

but you noticed—nanami’s eyes were only focused on only one thing. your soft, perked breasts that bounced at the exact second your body did.

at each powerful hop and slam of your hips, they playfully jiggled, flopping against your chest. they were nearly smushed right in his face, and oh- he could feel his mouth shamefully watering at just imagining them being in his mouth.

“closer, sweetheart,” he grunts, tilting his head down since he couldn’t exactly use his hands.

you were riding him at such godly speed, swerving your hips at such frantic intervals while wetly clamping down on his cock.

nanami always filled you to the brim with all of him, poking right through your slickly dripping orifices with every bouncy thrust.

once more, it makes his head spin, but all he’s focused on is your chest that was staring straight back at him. “f- fuuuck, ‘m still h.. hot. i think- i think suckin’ on them will help me cool off, sweetheart.”

saucily cooing, you lick a stripe down his neck as your hips accelerated. as you continued to speak, your voice started to get a bit bumpy from the unsteady movement of your jouncing ass.

“oh- is that what you wanted all this time, ‘ken? to suck on these?” and he watches as you lean back, cupping your tits with the smuggest smile plastered on your lips.

your hands sneak down between your unbuttoned shirt before you silently mewl, giving them a nice good squeeze. “imagine jus’ how plumper they’d be after i have your baby, kento.”

“h.. honey- you’re lucky ‘m handcuffed.” bronze eyes trace down your skin, stopping at your perked nipples.

they were oh-so-perfect.. and as you’re straddled over his lap, nanami couldn’t help but let his mind wander just a bit. he couldn’t help but allow his mind to wander near the very lewd lobe of his brain.

the mental image of you baring his child . .

his wife, you.

nanami grunts at the thought, wordlessly gasping in multiple honed breaths at the fierce clashes of sharp skin.

your hips were disgustingly brutal, and with the way your thighs clung onto him, you were nearly akin to a magnet – forevermore sticking against nanami, never wanting to let go.

“c’mooon,” the blond playfully whines in a gruff voice, his cock stiffening inside of you. “don’t hah- make me beg, sweet girl.”

“you make me beg,” you chaff, slowing your hips down just a bit. nanami grunts at your catty truth, feeling the weight of you gradually hover before you roughly buck right into him.

using all of your core, his leaking tip smears its way against your clit in an almost pretty heart shape and you stutter out a moan.

your syllables of each broken moan were a bit choppy as you were shooting blanks, arching your back against him. even as you’re still riding him, putting all pounds of movement from your body into your sprawled knees, you kept touching yourself.

seeing you guide your hands all over your body in such a sensual way, made nanami kiss his teeth.

in envy though - those should’ve been his hands..

“allll. the. time.” you finish your sentence in a spirited whisper, whispering against the twitching left side of his ear.

each thrust becomes increasingly sloppy with your grip getting more slick ‘n wet — glossed which such sticky amounts of your tangled juices.

each squashing slop! that squelches from between the arc your legs get louder, causing your thighs to nearly clamp together from the tender stimulation.

cupping your tits again, you bring them up to nanami’s face. “go ‘head.”

“woman.. you’re evil,” nanami muffles, getting a face full of your breasts. you hold onto them tight, watching as nanami brings his face closer until he’s shoved right between them. a sweet crooning groan slithers from his lips as his tongue fervently curls its way down toward your nipple.

sloppily, you feel him casually swirling greedy circles around your pulsating gland before switching to the other one.

nanami’s lashes close as you’re still rocking your hips forward, nearly riding him into utter ‘n erotic oblivion..

at this point—you thought the bed was about to break, devastatingly snapping into two due to how good you were putting your hips to use.

“mmpf- so pretty. all mine, m- mine,” he rasps between wet slurps, his wrists still trapped in pretty pink handcuffs. the woolly fur tickles against his skin as his tongue continues to rove shapes around your nipples. “need to get these girls plump… quickly.”

your tits remained grasped in your hands as you’re moaning from nanami’s tongue, and you now start to rut into him at a much more hurried pace.

nanami hungrily drives his cock all through your core, creating a near race-track path that smothers invisible kisses all against your g-spot.

every inch, he’s fat- and his even lengthier girth nearly makes your brain short-circuit for a minute. every wild jam of your hips feels like its last, and nanami’s already drooling.

treacly, sweet saliva pours from the corners of his lips as he’s sucking on each of your tits, muffled gargled moans and whines vibrating against your tepid flesh..

your body had adapted to a more steady rhythm, but you could feel his dick eagerly twitch inside of you every few rushed seconds.

a bit of drool ends up running down his mouth, landing on his polka-dotted tie, creating a gray dampening spot. it’s cute, and you rub a thumb over his thin lips, watching his tawny, soft eyes flutter back open.

it’s the look of love- and nanami could feel himself heating up more once your gaze meets his again.

for a moment, he had completely forgotten about the dumb curse because he was too busy lost in your gaze.

but his temperature started to increase. you let off a bundle of whiny mewls once you feel him nip the top row of his teeth against your nipple.

“s- so cute,” he purrs lowly, feeling your knobbly thighs get closer and closer to giving out. just a few more thrusts and you’d probably be done for.

“mmp-” he pops out your left nipple with his swollen wet lips, glancing at you. nanami looked like he’d just run a marathon with blond strands glossing strips across his forehead. grunting, he starts to pant like a greyhound, sliding a tongue over his lips. “you’re close, honey?”

“m- mhm!” you’d reply, your voice turning raw at each straining moan that leaves from your poor chords.

his cock was massaging everywhere, it didn’t miss a single spot. it’s tip was widely turgid, angrily crimson-red, and leaking from all veiny sides while narrowly delving into you raw.

nanami’s kneading through your guts, tending to each gummy part of your entrance to make you whimper out his name. from every deep, vigorous pump that profoundly batters inside of your pussy, your eyes cross.

you’re dumbfounded—dumb in general too from the way he facilely located every sensitive spot with just the stubby tip of his shaft.

including your pretty cervix - nanami made sure his cock smacked its way there a few times.

the deep pressure pounding inside of you, greeting every single spot inside of your pussy never failed to make your knees quickly buckle.

“f- fuck, fuck there ‘ken, theretherethereee,” you start to babble, the bumps of his tip making your jaw goofily hang. “ ‘m cum- ‘m gonna cummm.”

“haah- together, sweetheart. can you . . finish with me?” nanami murmurs in a throaty voice, kissing your neck.

he tried to lift his head but got slightly pulled back from the fuzzy handcuffs.

he’s molding your insides fully with his cock, squinting a bit at the crescent-shaped moon that hides behind the violent bed curtain.

that view was nice but the view currently in front of him, riding him.. ‘curing’ him from whatever curse this was was far a better sight.

you.

with a whine preparing to squeal from your throat, you give him a nod.

nanami tilts his head, tsking impishly with his smacking lips despite how he was just as sensitive as you. “ah- you know how i feel about head nods, princess. i wanna hear those pretty words.”

“y.. yes ken, ‘kentoooo,” you moan, gasping once you feel two things at once. your stomach tightly seizing and your sloppy cunt restricting around his meaty, stocky length.

it’s so good, soso good that you softly bite into nanami’s shoulder. he hums, groaning right with you before you continue. “ ‘m cummin. ‘m fuckin’ cumming, kento.”

“i know.. i know, c’mere, girl,” he whispers, his face softening once your eyes immediately lock with him. “my sweet… girl.” his pitch lowers, and you decrease the distance between the two of you.

once again, your lips meet nanami’s but this time, it’s far more aggressive and less passionate.

it’s only one word and it’s – sloppy.

your body’s weakly rolling against him, losing its rhythm as the two of you end up finishing together, competing with each other’s inevitable high.

it all felt like a slow … rush.

as you were both drinking each other’s never-ending moans and grunts, the puddled, gooey mess began.

at the same time though, your legs ended up finally collapsing as your swollen, plump lips attacked against his - harshly.

nanami’s lips were almost competing with yours, mashing against your lips with the occasional rows teeth of teeth clash clash clashing away.

it’s loud, sloppy, messy..

the peppermint taste that still lingers in his mouth travels against your buds and you moan. nanami groans, spraying a geyser of bittersweet strips of hot cum inside of you as both tongues continue to explore each other’s mouths.

it’s a straight shot—it travels deep, introducing your womb with a fresh amount of cum as you end up letting go at the same time.

both sets of hearts fluttered as you pressed against his chest, racing frantic beats per minute as you melted the dozenth kiss he presented to your lips.

it’s hot- nanami’s rawly plunging into you as you whine against his lips, barely feeling your hips rutting into him anymore.

you’re just straddling him now – yet he’s still plugging you full with such massive inches of cock, with the addition of his creamy, gloopy seed that drizzles a sloppy white ring around his base.

your fingers wisp down his undercut, as he continues to quietly ravage your walls. it was a slick, slimy knot that buries itself deep inside of your pussy.

you’re moaning, slowly breaking away from his mouth that had strings of saliva clinging near the bottom of his glossed lip. panting heavily, you crane your head, taking a quick peek down at your ass.

it’s a mess, and as his carmine-colored tip slips out of you, it lightly smacks against his tummy.

ribbons of cum paint near the very undersides of your thighs, pouring out between your syrupy slit in such a slow yet filthy manner. time nearly stood still, and nanami went silent, staring at the gooey wads ‘n wads buttery cum that oozes out of your pretty, fluttering cunt.

“are you okay?” nanami sighs, feeling you reach for the handcuff key that rests near the rosy nightstand. you remove them, and he twirls his wrists in a circle before looking at you with kind eyes.

“ ‘m okay.” you reassure him, cupping his face and kissing the right side of his cheek.

nanami’s exhausted—especially after how good you just rode him.

your dripping cunt hovers against his happy trail and sheeny clenched abs as he lazily lies back, finally grabbing your hips. “good . . good,” and with a huff, he sheepishly smiles. “i guess i . . hah- failed no nut november, huh.”

“eh- there’s always next year,” you bring a chaste, sweet kiss to his quivering, pouty lips.

♡ ♡ ♡

surrounded by nothing but bodies of water featuring sods of glittery clear bubbles, you now found yourself lying against nanami’s broad chest. burly, swole arms envelope around your body as the two of you were in the ivory, spacious bathtub. as the water ran against your skin, soothing your aching muscles—you let off a sigh once he finished washing you off.

“i think it wore off,” his warm voice tickles against your skin. nanami kisses down your nape, reaching near the side of the tub where a bowl of fresh muscat grapes lies. tearing a few off the vine, he brings them toward your lips. “the curse . . pollen, whatever it was.”

“mmpf- did it?” you eat from his hand, feeling his wet palm softly rub against your chin. the smell of rich jasmine hits your nostrils as you let off a satisfied hum at the sugary sweet flavor. nanami’s body held you close, feeling your damp body lightly plop against his chest. you feel a bit of his chest hair land against your skin before you swallow. “do you still feel hot?”

nanami pops another grape into your mouth, then into his. “no, sweetheart. i’m fine now, thanks to you,” and you feel his left arm hook around your waist. the blond reclines back against the tub’s icy marble-made wall before sighing. “how do you feel, though? any cramps or body aches i should be aware of?”

with a content suspire drifting away from your parted lips, you move a bit in the calm, lukewarm water — closer toward the back of his chest.

“i’m okay, kento. althooough,” and you give him a playful nudge. “my legs still feel sore.”

“forgive me, honey,” nanami rests his chin against your shoulder. there was a bit of jest in his tone, and you could hear him trying not to snicker.

again, always the gentleman though.

“i’ll give you a massage once we get out of the tub, my treat.” and you let off a sigh, feeling him creep a few fingers up your thigh.

“hmm, okay,” you comply with a sight sigh, sneaking a kiss near the edge of his lips. nanami blinks thrice, his face flushing a bit before you cup his face with wet hands.

“i was serious you know. about . . what i said earlier. us settling down and–,” and nanami deeply stares into your eyes as you speak.

you rub a wet thumb against his sharp cheekbone before continuing, abruptly cutting your cute rambling short, ending with a sincere, “i love you, kento.”

tilting his head against your palm, leaning into your embrace, nanami brings you toward him before kissing the crown of your head. “and i love you more,” and as you felt butterflies party in the lower pits of your stomach, nanami brings your hand up to his lips.

gently, he aligns his mouth perfectly near your fourth digit before giving you another kiss, this time—on your ring finger. “mrs. nanami.”

but oh- he wasn’t done..

as you’re feeling a wave of tenderness overwhelm your heart, nanami leans a bit down before kissing the center part of your tummy that drips with teary droplets.

his wetly compressed lips give it a quick peck and ‘mwah’ before keeping his head lowered. “i love her too.” you raise a brow, glancing as nanami’s chin hovers over the bubbles of water.

“her?” you lift a brow as he whispers multiple ‘i love you’s’ against your stomach as if he was already talking to something – or someone..

“yes, her,” nanami repeats, giving your tummy one more kiss before sitting back up, rubbing his palm over the center of your belly.

looking up at you, he notices your confused expression and smiles to himself. “oh, just a little hunch,” and you gasp once nanami picks you up softy, carrying you out the wet tub, the both of you soaking wet.

“now, how about that massage? i’m quite good with my hands, especially when it comes to my woman.”