#the Things the happen with this man do not stop
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astonmartinii · 2 days ago
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day six: not so home for christmas | oscar piastri social media au
pairing: oscar piastri x fem reader
oscar and y/n are having their first christmas in monaco because of a snow storm, unfortunately this also means they're now hosting most of the grid as well.
MASTERLIST | TIP JAR
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yourusername
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liked by charles_leclerc, landonorris and 137,094 others
tagged: oscarpiastri
yourusername: thanks a lot snow storm :( i guess it's our first ever christmas here in monaco
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user1: yall global warming might just be real
user2: you're only just realising it now ?
charles_leclerc: you kids and your complaining - a white christmas in monaco, what more could you want?
yourusername: a christmas at home with our families?
charles_leclerc: families? when you're in your adopted father-in-law's home city, i'd watch your tone if i were you
oscarpiastri: if you think of your kids as often as you say then you should be worried that your aussie son is going to FREEZE to death :(
charles_leclerc: if it's the bbq you crave, you can still do that?
yourusername: it's snowing? and he is NOT bringing our bbq inside
charles_leclerc: okay jeez, not much christmas spirit here i see
oscarpiastri: we miss our families, sue us
user3: wait... if they couldn't get out of nice... who else couldn't
user4: the storm kicked in like a day ago right?
user5: based on instagram activity, my guess is that max, lando, ollie (idk why he was in monaco anyway), kimi (i think he's attached to ollie), alex (and lily) and george
user6: i know it would never happen but wouldn't it be so cute if we got a grid christmas dinner
yourusername: please don't give them any ideas
oscarpiastri: i only just got rid of them 😩
landonorris: so, just out of interest, is y/n still free to maybe wrap my presents for me?
yourusername: do i look like the christmas fairy to you?
landonorris: well i know for a fact that oscar's ass was not wrapping those presents
oscarpiastri: well y/n actually likes doing things for me soooooo
landonorris: PLEASE Y/N I'LL HAVE TO RESORT TO USING TIN FOIL
yourusername: tin foil... please you are a 25 year old man
landonorris: does it look like i'm a man who has sellotape in his house?
yourusername: no.
user7: y/n is like a full time mum to a load of men all older than her
user8: she better get ready to cook for them at christmas because none of these men can cook for themselves
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oscarpiastri
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liked by charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1 and 692,108 others
tagged: yourusername & landonorris
oscarpiastri: i'm not sure how this went from our lonely christmas away from both of our families to babysitting half of the grid but what the hell, sure
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user10: i personally blame all of you for this
user11: and what??? i'm so excited
user12: i hope they post nothing more just to spite your ass
charles_leclerc: i’m kinda offended no one thought of coming to mine :/
maxverstappen1: you’re shit at cooking
charles_leclerc: how would you know?
maxverstappen1: i saw it in your vlog
charles_leclerc: you watch my vlogs???
maxverstappen1: NO?
yourusername: okay queens stop flirting and get back to your stations in the kitchen
charles_leclerc: can we flirt there?
yourusername: if you're still peeling - knock yourselves out
user13: y/n basically confirming lestappen? wow christmas DID come early this year
user14: the real question is why she would let those menaces in the kitchen?
yourusername: i have seen how much these people eat, i need help even from the useless
yourusername: also if they want certain dishes from home they have to help
maxverstappen1: i am CORING AS MANY APPLES AS I CAN I PROMISE THE APPLE BEIGNETS WILL BE WORTH IT
oscarpiastri: i know they will be, y/n is making them
maxverstappen1: okay buddy, i don't see you helping
oscarpiastri: i am keeping everyone else in line, that's a full time job as well
user15: who made the youngest couple in charge of these fools?
user16: a comedic genius
yourusername: they're annoying but i'll deal with them for you
oscarpiastri: you make such sacrifices for me, i love you
yourusername: i love you more
alexalbon: we're really not that bad you guys are being dramatic
yourusername: george walked up to our mantle piece, pointed at my baby picture and said "ugly. my condolences" ?
alexalbon: that's george ? he's mean to everyone
yourusername: HE'S IN THAT BABY'S HOUSE
olliebearman
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liked by charles_leclerc, estebanocon and 418,934 others
tagged: yourusername, oscarpiastri & kimiantonelli
olliebearman: first christmas with my big brother :))))
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user17: yall be on oscar about him holding onto the leclerc family joke but the real enemy is ollie
olliebearman: i think it's cute
olliebearman: and it's NOT a joke
user18: you know what? yeah i'd also keep going with the joke i need to get in that leclerc family
olliebearman: the real catch here is y/n she's going to teach me to crochet :)
yourusername: we can make little bear mans !!!
user19: the grid dad stuff was cringey... but grid brother well that's hitting like crack i fear
charles_leclerc: grid dads are cringey ??? count your days
user19: sorry?
charles_leclerc: i (and my family) will NOT tolerate sebastian vettel slander. not now not EVER
fernandoalo_oficial: and me?
charles_leclerc: i couldn't give a fuck about you old man
fernandoalo_oficial: excuse me
fernandoalo_oficial: i'll have you know i am just as much oscar's father as you are
charles_leclerc: and how have you come to that OBVIOUSLY WRONG conclusion
fernandoalo_oficial: WELL i don't know maybe his REAL grid dad is actually mark webber who i have a well documented homoerotic relationship with and therefore oscar and most importantly Y/N are my children
charles_leclerc: what a load of bullshit
charles_leclerc: if grid children were based on homoerotic tension then i'd be father to all of the red bull juniors and max would have custody of the FDA
maxverstappen1: well....
pepemarti: hi !!!
dinobeganovic: hey.....
yourusername: what happened to the original plot of the movie
user20: i think the cabin fever is getting to them
lilymunhe: no they're like this all of the time it's exhausting
yourusername: tell me about it
olliebearman: but not me :(
yourusername: no we love you
oscarpiastri: you are the least annoying one
olliebearman: omg thank you :3
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yourusername
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liked by maxverstappen1, alexalbon and 163,207 others
tagged: oscarpiastri, charles_leclerc & landonorris
yourusername: not so home for christmas but with family nonetheless
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user22: what was the dress code here?
landonorris: what we had left? all the dry cleaners are closed because of the storm
yourusername: you take ALL of your clothes to the dry cleaners?
landonorris: why wouldn't i do that...
yourusername: yk what, whatever !
user23: omg of course leo was there as well
yourusername: we only invited charles for him
charles_leclerc: excuse me?
landonorris: he was invited ????
oscarpiastri: well he was staying in monaco anyway and you guys all invoked your squatters rights in my house so what was one more
landonorris: i am not squatting? my ass is already big enough as it is
yourusername: i know your ass is big because YOU'RE ALWAYS SAT ON IT
oscarpiastri: god i love you
yourusername: i love you even more
oscarpiastri: nuh uh not possible
yourusername: i love you so much i'm not even that angry about half of the grid crashing our christmas
oscarpiastri: i love you so much that i personally barged a child out of the way to get you your eras tour merch
yourusername: i do love my merch.... but not as much as i love you
oscarpiastri: you're so romantic
georgerussell63: right that's it, i am SICK of you people pretending you are not enjoying our presence
yourusername: did i or did i not say family ???
oscarpiastri: george i'd appreciate if you didn't talk to y/n this way
maxverstappen1: yeah back the fuck off
georgerussell63: why is max here?
maxverstappen1: ummmm y/n busted her ass to make apple beignets for me so i had some netherlands with me at christmas so i would die for her. i am somwhat fond of oscar as well
maxverstappen1: so fuck with them, you fuck with me
maxverstappen1: and you seem to like doing that recently
yourusername: awwww thanks max!
oscarpiastri: we are fond of you too buddy
georgerussell63: how did i lose this?
user24: max out here getting wags on his side
maxverstappen1: that's my ma
maxverstappen1: wait that makes my homoerotic tension with charles incest
maxverstappen1: that's my home girl
oscarpiastri
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liked by landonorris, jackdoohan and 1,094,577 others
tagged: yourusername
oscarpiastri: y/n absolutely smashed our makeshift grid christmas and she said she'll accept thanks in qualifying tows or easy passes on track 👍
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user25: oh they want me dead
user26: i would do questionable things to get a slice of that cake
user27: drop the recipe please xxx
yourusername: oh babe i be following the tiktoks like the rest of yall - i'll repost it
user28: woman of the people
yourusername: babe i don't really remember saying those exact words...
oscarpiastri: PLEASE ! they don't say no to you now you've filled their stomachs
landonorris: he's not wrong
maxverstappen1: you're in my will now
charles_leclerc: you're now my favourite daughter in law
yourusername: i'm your only daughter in law?
charles_leclerc: idk kimi and ollie are pretty attached with their weird tension
landonorris: like father like son
charles_leclerc: huh?
landonorris: huh?
oscarpiastri: ^^ see !!!! y/n please !!!
yourusername: fine.
yourusername: thank you all for coming, i hope you enjoyed dinner and your time with us. i loved spending time with you all but if you wish, i will be accepting thanks in the form of qualifying tows and easy passes for oscar or pornstar martinis from any hospitality
yourusername: happy?
oscarpiastri: yes
oscarpiastri: YOU HEARD THE WOMAN GUYS
maxverstappen1: oh i love y/n but i'd rather put you in the wall than let that ugly orange car past without a fight
georgerussell63: @fia i told yall
yourusername: are you ever gonna give that up ?
georgerussell63: no? and i KNOW IT WAS YOU WHO SAT ME NEXT TO HIM AT DINNER
yourusername: you'll never prove it :P
user29: oscar is such a sassy man
yourusername: he gets it from his momma
oscarpiastri: and you :)
yourusername: i will say your ability to watch my reality tv with you is a big factor in how much i love you
landonorris: is that why oscar once woke me up the night before a race by shouting "get her ass lisa" ???
oscarpiastri: we watch real housewives together on facetime :)
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charles_leclerc
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liked by pierregasly, carlossainz55 and 1,130,672 others
tagged: yourusername & oscarpiastri
charles_leclerc: i made the right choice in son and most importantly daughter in law
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user31: okay the cinnamon buns have thrown me over the edge now
user32: i NEED to know who asked for them
alexalbon: guilty 💅 and they slapped thanks y/m
oscarpiastri: we've been dating for years? like when i was still in f3?
charles_leclerc: semantics
oscarpiastri: no i met and charmed y/n all on my own thank you very much
charles_leclerc: because she saw the future and the potential of our prosperous family !!!
oscarpiastri: at this point, whatever you wanna hear old man
charles_leclerc: relegated below ollie
olliebearman: score !!!
user33: oh these people are never letting this joke die are they
user34: i think we're stuck with it
charles_leclerc: are you people sick of whimsy ???
charles_leclerc: i am ALLOWED to flex my son's amazing choice in women, especially a woman who will make me a swiss roll on demand
yourusername: he does have amazing taste
oscarpiastri: thank you :3
yourusername: as much as you guys were somewhat annoying, we had an amazing christmas xx
oscarpiastri: please do not bother us until march
charles_leclerc: fine. but we're still on for the double date in melbourne?
charles_leclerc: (maybe triple? idk ollie can just bring kimi)
kimiantonelli: score !!!
yourusername: we would love to !
oscarpiastri: i guess you could meet my actual family ?
charles_leclerc: not now oscar, let me enjoy chritmas with you all before you remind me of that
oscarpiastri: okay?
user35: y/n and oscar actually have the patience of saints because if these clowns crashed my christmas i'd be on the news
yourusername: any christmas is perfect with him
oscarpiastri: with y/n, i can get through even the most annoying people
user35: okay yall didn't have to flex on me that hard damn
fin.
note: here's day six! i'm not sure if you guys saw my update post but this series won't be done by christmas day but will stretch to NYE because unfortunately my cat has to be put down :( i've had him for nearly 19 years and it's really hard to think about him being gone so i'm just spending as much time as possible with him atm. anyway, i hope you enjoyed !! xx
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nellasbookplanet · 2 days ago
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Here’s the thing:
I want Predathos to get out.
Not because I hate the gods or want to see them killed or driven off (in fact, I find the 'the gods are tyrants' arguments to be laughably incorrect and deeply hope c3 ends with the pantheon still present) but because ending the campaign without facing Predathos would be a huge anticlimax. If Bells Hells simply kill Ludinus and go back home, it will feel like killing the minion but never actually getting to the big bad. What if c1 had ended with killing the Briarwoods but never getting around to Vecna. What if the m9 had actually managed to kill Lucien with their trap in Aeor before he made it into the Astral Sea to set off his plan. We wouldn’t have gotten to see the nature of the somnovem, the horrific flesh city or the peace of putting it to rest, the wild creativity that was the final battle of imagination. If c3 ends without showing us what the fuck Predathos actually is I will go lie facedown on the floor for a week wondering what we missed out on.
Now, this doesn't mean I want the hells to purposefully let the beast out of its cage. I would prefer the campaign not end with the heroes finalizing the villain's plan and setting off calamity 2.0, thank you very much. But if Ludinus still has an ace up his sleeve that makes Predathos' release all but inevitable (which I honestly expect)? Maybe even if there’s a party split and one or a couple of the hells take the decision into their own hands (looking at you, Ashton)?
I'd love that shit. Show us what Predathos truly is. Let it eat Ludinus maybe. Give us a glimpse of the true end if it’s let loose on Exandria. Have there be a horrific realization of oh, this is what the Vanguard was arguing in favor of. And then kill it.
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yandere-daydreams · 9 hours ago
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Title: The Fawn Instinct.
Pairing: Yandere!BatFam x Reader (DC).
Word Count: 5.0k.
TW: Implied Non/Con, Implied Dub/Con, Kidnapping, Prolonged Captivity, Social Isolation, Stalking, Obsessive Behavior, and No Actual Incest, But Boy If Those Freaks Aren't Trying. Dead Dove: Do Not Eat.
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If it’d only been Bruce, you might’ve been able to live with it.
You didn’t love him, but you could imagine a world where you tried to. Most of it was circumstance; as upset as you were about the whole kidnapping thing, it wasn’t exactly a Herculean feat to endear yourself to the idea of being a handsome vigilante millionaire’s stay-at-home captive-spouse. You had no room in your heart for the stoic, reclusive, untouchable Bruce Wayne, but you could remember the adoration you’d once held for your masked hometown hero, the pride that’d once given you the force of will to all-but carry a half-conscious man in a torn cowl and a familiar suit into your apartment and lie to the cops when they came knocking. If the conditions had been different, if he’d spent a little more time as something more intimate than a stranger and a little less damning than a captor, then maybe, you could convince yourself to love him. Or, convince yourself to try, at least.
But, the conditions weren’t different, and you’d never quite had the time you would’ve needed to align Bruce Wayne with his more heroic alter ego. It’d been doomed from the start – Icarus jumping from his tower, already knowing his wings were destined to fall apart.
That aside, though, there was the more glaring issue: all his fucking kids.
Calling them kids might’ve been too generous, actually. Only Damian and Duke were younger than eighteen, and as far as you were concerned, they were your saving graces – Duke for meeting the bare minimum requirements for human decency and Damian for adamantly denying you were anything but an unwanted burden on his father. The rest were more-or-less adults, as little as you wanted to acknowledge the nonexistent age-gap between you and your gaggle of stepchildren. They were grown. They should’ve known better.
Tim, for example. He had to be… what? Nineteen? It wasn’t the pinnacle of maturity, sure, but he should’ve known you’d be able to hear your own sheets rustling through the bedroom door, should’ve assumed that you’d know he’d know Bruce would be out on patrol until sunrise. He should’ve known to wait until you were in another wing of the sprawling Wayne estate, somewhere far away from the master bedroom, or better yet, skipped rummaging through your things entirely. You knew better than to dream, though.
The door was still shut, but what was happening behind it and who was responsible were both foregone conclusions.  It was Tim, because of course it was Tim, and he going through your meager possessions, because what else would he wait until Bruce was gone to do? Cringing, you rested your shoulder against the steady wood and knocked gingerly. “…Drake? Are you in there?”
Immediately, the rustling stopped. You went on. “I think Bruce is out, if you need him. Is there something you’re trying to find?”
It was a good out. An easy out. Thankfully, he was smart enough to take the bait. A few seconds later, the door cracked, a disheveled Tim emerging with a dark blush spread over his pale cheeks and his hands shoved conspicuously deep into the pockets of his hoodie. It was a struggle not to roll your eyes. He couldn’t have been more obvious if he’d come out with his dick still in his hand.
Your cheeks ached as you put on your dozenth unstrained, unworried, everything’s-fine-because-why-wouldn’t-it-be smile of the day and moved aside to let him out. “I’ll let him know you were looking for him when he gets home,” you assured, like you couldn’t see the way his bright eyes were fixed to the carpeting. “I’m sorry I can’t be more help. You all are just so heroic – it’s still a little hard to believe I’m a part of this at all.”
“You’re perfect,” he muttered, and you pretended not to hear him, cocking your head to the side. When he corrected himself, his voice was a bit louder, a bit clearer. “Don’t worry, I… I found what I was looking for. You don’t have to bother Bruce.”
“Oh, I’m sure he wouldn’t mind. He’s so proud of you and your siblings, after all – it’s practically all he talks about.” A lie, but a fair one to tell. There was no reason Tim should have to know Bruce spent the majority of your time alone with his teeth buried somewhere in your neck, muttering paranoid fantasies about how many different ways you could be killed, mutilated, or otherwise indisposed by the members of his rouges gallery. “Honestly, sometimes, it’s hard not to feel like I’ve been here for years, rather than just a couple of months.”
You only realized your mistake when those bright eyes shot to you, suddenly wide and blown out with desperation. A hand darted towards you, and you stumbled out of the way, but not quickly enough to avoid Tim’s vice-grip on your forearm, to spare yourself the feeling of something cold and wet sinking into your sleeve. “You’re leaving?” The words seemed to slur together, spilling out too quickly to be restrained or refined. “You can’t leave. Bruce won’t be able to handle it, and Steph, she’ll—I mean, security-wise, we won’t be able to make sure you’re—”
Internally, you were keeping up a steady mantra of ‘Thisissogrossthisissogrossthisissogross.’
Externally, by some miracle, your smile never wavered, only growing sweeter as you cut him off with a chirping laugh. “I’m not going anywhere,” you promised, and then, after a slight lapse, “Would you mind letting go of me? It’s—uh, it’s kind of starting to hurt.”
As if on a switch, he let go of you entirely, pulling away as abruptly as he lashed out. There was a mumbled ‘I’m sorry��, and he made a swift retreat, disappearing around the next corner before you could so much as think about bringing up Bruce, again. You watched him go, only letting your expression fall once you were sure he was out of sight.
Without further caution, you slipped into your bedroom, glazing over the mess of pulled-out drawers, overturned clothes and scattered dirty laundry in favor of falling into bed, rolling onto your chest, and screaming into your pillow as loudly and for as long as your lungs would allow.
~
You tried your best never to be alone. It was a little draining, to be honest – having to keep a running chart in the back of your mind of who you could trust and who you couldn’t, constantly trying to guess whether it’d be safer to be alone with someone or if you were better off taking your chances on your own – but you’d learned your lesson the first time you’d fallen asleep in the Wayne’s at-home movie theater and woken up to Cassandra spread over you like a human weighted blanket, staring unblinkingly at your face and playing half-consciously with your hair. You tried not to leave yourself unguarded, after that.
Alfred was your first choice, Barbra your second, with Bruce as a distant third. Sometimes, you could get away with loitering near Damian (something you hated nearly as much as he did – you could only stand to be addressed as his father’s “jezebel lover” so many times), but Bruce was at one of Damian’s school events, leaving them both conveniently unavailable, and Alfred would be locked inside of his underground shooting range for another hour and a half, an activity you knew better than to interrupt. Meaning, you were on your own.
Meaning, you’d picked a very bad time to need something to drink.
The kitchen was deathly quiet, but you still made an effort to keep your head on a swivel as you made your way carefully to a corner cabinet, like stepping on the wrong tile would trigger a pit trap, or a flurry of arrows, or one of another million terrible things you hadn’t thought were possible before Bruce dedicated himself so entirely to proving you wrong. Mentally, you reviewed your haphazardly assembled schedule as you fumbled with the wood paneling and reached for a mug from the highest shelf. Tim was definitely out, touring local colleges on Bruce’s behest, Step was supposed to be in class, and Dick—
Your fingertips made contact with cool ceramic half a second before another, larger palm wrapped around yours, a broad chest pressing into your back as your mug was stolen out of your hand. You didn’t have to look to know who it was.
And Dick was on bed rest with three broken ribs. Right. Of course.
You really shouldn’t have bothered leaving your room at all. Suddenly, dehydration didn’t sound like such a bad way to go.
“Let me get that, baby bird.” You cringed at the petname, but nodded, letting Dick confiscate your mug and with it, your ability to make a swift exit from a conversation you’d rather not have. “Green tea, right? I know it’s your favorite.”
“On the mark as always, Dick.” There was just enough enthusiasm in your voice to overshadow the despair. You waited until you heard the muted click of an electric kettle before turning around and settling against the counter. “I wish you wouldn’t dote on me, though. I already feel useless enough as it is.”
“Don’t sweat it, I’ve been going stir-crazy all week.” He flashed you a quick smile – tooth and beaming – before pulling open the silverware drawer and rummaging through it, like Alfred would keep his teabags with his cutlery. He was topless, wearing the same pair of black sweatpants he must’ve slept in. He didn’t plan to go out, clearly, and it wasn’t like you had much of an alternative. “This is just the basics, too. For a while there, I had your breakfast, lunch, and midnight snack preferences memorized.”
You forced yourself to smile, albeit, not as brightly as him. “…did you, now?”
“Mhm. B had us running in-person surveillance before he finally bit the bullet and brought you home, and—” He cut himself off with a sudden laugh, shaking his head. “And, I wasn’t supposed to tell you that part. Oops.”
Mercifully, the kettle whistled before you could start to consider the implications, and you reached behind you, fishing two bags out of a teacup-shaped jar. It was easy enough to edge him out of the way, but not having to worry about pretending he’d ever made himself a cup of tea meant he could devote more of his energy to talking, so you still managed to lose, in the end. “He’s stingier with the surveillance footage, now. I’ve never seen him so jealous.”
“He can definitely be a little overprotective.”
You tried to keep your tone even, polite, but Dick was like his siblings – quick to action and slow to take a hint. A hand curled around the counter next to you, and you dumped an extra spoonful of sugar into the darkening water. “It’s just us in the manor, right?”
Another spoonful, just to be safe. “I think Alfred is—”
“Out for the day. Wayne Enterprise emergency – I let him know as soon as he finished down in the range.” In your peripheral, you watched his other hand come to rest on your opposite side, caging you in. “I wouldn’t mind the company, if you were starting to get lonely.”
Another spoonful. It’d be too sweet to drink, but anything not to have to look at him. “I’m afraid wouldn’t be a lot of fun, Grayson. Honestly, I was just planning on getting a little sle—”
“That’s perfect,” he cut in, too eager to wait his turn. “I’m a great cuddler.”
You curled your hand around your mug, hoping the warmth would be enough to ground you. Instead, it only burnt your palm, and for a second, you could imagine a world where your teeth weren’t buried in the plush of your cheek, where you didn’t have to remind yourself that turning around and splashing boiling-hot water on an all-but superhero’s face wasn’t a good idea. For a second, you genuinely considered it.
And then, a sound not totally dissimilar to thunder filled the kitchen; loud enough to leave your ears ringing and your adrenaline spiked. You flinched into yourself, but it only took a moment for fear to shift to relief as you noticed the bullet lodged into the wood less than an inch from your head. Your expression lit up just as Dick’s fell.
Without waiting for him to let you go, you slipped away – sprinting across the kitchen and throwing yourself into Jason’s – brave, bold, beautiful Jason – chest. He caught you one hand and finished re-holstering his handgun with the other, laughing as you hugged him as tightly as you could manage. Dick huffed, playful offense failing to mask real agitation, and you felt Jason brace against you. “Jerk off and shut the fuck up, Oedipus.”
Dick’s smile turned uneasy. “It’s good to see you too, man.”
“I didn’t come here for you,” he snapped, as short-tempered with his siblings as you wished you could be. He looked down, holding you that much tighter. “How’s my best girl holding up?”
“I’m just fine, Jason. I do think we have to have a talk about how you treat your brother, though.” You glanced over your shoulder to Dick. “A little privacy? You really ought to be staying off your feet, too.”
Reluctantly, Dick slinked out of the kitchen, hesitant to go but eager to nurse his wounds. You only went on once you were sure he was gone.
“It’s been awful. I found another hidden camera in my bedroom, and I think Tim’s tapping my—”
“I’ll do a sweep.”
He let you go, but you caught his arm. “Please, I know it’s important, but—” You cut yourself off, swallowing. It was irrational – the way you let your guard down so quickly around Jason. The mask never slipped around anyone else, whether you were afraid of them or they were one of your rare, precious exceptions. Jason existed outside of the Wayne family, though, outside of Bruce’s corrupting influence. He wasn’t going to hurt you. More importantly, he wasn’t going to let anyone else hurt you, either.
“But I really don’t want to think about that, right now,” you finished. “Just… just for a little while, alright? I don’t want to constantly feel like I’m walking on eggshells, at least not while you’re here.”
Jason stood strong for all of three seconds. With the fourth, he sighed, buckled, and shook his head, his exasperation brimming with affection. “How long until Bruce gets home?”
“Six more hours. He’s not due to check-in for another three.”
“I’ve got my bike out front. How do you think he’d feel about a joy ride?”
And just like that, you lit up. “It’d give him a heart attack.”
Jason pulled you close, kissing the top of your head.
“Perfect.”
~
Unfortunately, Jason’s visits were few and far between. You had to find ways of fending for yourself, in the downtime.
“I miss the city.”
Bruce glanced over his shoulder, gaze flickering over you before returning to the buttons of his dress-shirt. You sunk that much deeper into the mess of sheets and pillows, taking some small amount of solace in the way the cool silk felt against your warm skin.
(Sex wasn’t something Bruce came to you for often, but when he did, you gave it to him willingly, albeit with no more enthusiasm than was absolutely necessary. You rarely enjoyed it and always regretted everything you did or said during the act, but it was better than the alternative. Part of you trusted him, trusted Batman, enough to believe that he’d take your refusal for what it was, that you wouldn’t have to say anything more than ‘no’. The remaining overwhelming majority was able to look around you, to remember the way he’d held you down as he forced a needle stocked with medical-grade sedatives into your throat, and recognize that your opinion probably didn’t mean very much to him. Still, you couldn’t let things get that bad. Even if you had to surrender every other facet of your being, you couldn’t let things get that bad.)
“You hated the city. You said your landlord was a tyrant and that even the criminals were living paycheck-to-paycheck.” And then, after a second of thought, “And that there were more rats in Gotham than people.”
“Well, he was, they are, and you know I love animals.” You pushed yourself up, keeping a sheet bunched against your chest as you slumped against the headboard. “I was tired and overworked – you could see that. But, things would be different if I was staying with, say, my wealthy trillionaire boyfriend in one of the penthouse apartments that I know he has because his youngest son got in trouble for bragging about them in school last week?”
Bringing up his kids was a dirty tactic – the fastest way to get Bruce’s undivided attention. This time, when his eyes shifted in your direction, they stayed there, and he made his way back to your side of the bed. He collapsed next to you and, with no resistance on your end, pulled you into his lap. He didn’t seem to care whether or not his immaculately tailored, freshly pressed suit was creased in the process, but you did your best not to squirm. “You want to leave the manor?”
The first half of a frown tugged at the corner of your lips. “That’s not what I—”
“Elevated pulse, avoidant eye-contact,” he muttered. “Something’s bothering you.”
It wasn’t a question. He wasn’t wrong, either, but still. You would’ve preferred to be asked.
“…it’s your family,” you admitted, feigning guilt. “They’re all—” Horny, depressed, creepy little orphans. “—great kids, but it’s just been so much so quickly, and I think it… I think it might’ve been too much too quickly. For them and for me.”
“They adore you, if that’s what you’re worried about. Dick was close to moving back in when I decided it was too dangerous to leave you to your own devices.”
You melted into his chest, sighing. Reflexively, he curled around you – a good thing, if a bit claustrophobic. Bruce liked feeling like a shield between you and harm, between you and the world he couldn’t control. Hopefully, eventually, he’d realize he had more to shield you from than greedy landlords and villains who always seemed to be just out of sight. “It’s not that easy. It’s just been such a rocky adjustment period, and…” You curled your hand around his wrist and squeezed, hoping the force would be enough to communicate what you couldn’t put a word to. “I’m really afraid something bad might happen, Bruce.”
For a moment, he seemed to consider it. There was a kiss to your shoulder, solemn and lingering, then another to your cheek, more fleeting. “I’ll talk to them. They’ll give you space, if they’re told to.”
If he told them to. You doubted you held much authority, here. “And the apartment in the city? On the highest floor, tall enough to see from Gotham to New York?”
Bruce smiled, and your heart soared.
Then, he started talking, and it crashed back down, dying upon impact. “Once I know it’s safe for you, sweetheart.”
There was another kiss, this one to the nape of your neck, then another, lower down on your spine. A calloused hand slipped underneath the sheet still hugged against your chest, and you allowed it to.
Honestly, it would’ve been kinder if he’d cut you into pieces and fed you to the wolves himself.
~
You made a run for it as soon as the arguing started.
Arguing, not yelling – the distinction was minor, but significant. Yelling would’ve meant an injury, or a mission gone wrong, or something else that signaled a sudden complication that couldn’t be smoothed over with sugar-sweet sentimentality or orders issues with an ice-cold strictness. Yelling would’ve meant Bruce didn’t mind letting you overhear, which usually meant you didn’t need to be involved. Arguing, all hushed whispers and hissed explanations and vague warnings, was different. Arguing meant, more often than not, that they were arguing about you.
It was Tim’s fault, as far as you could tell. Barbara had been the one to find the conspicuously encrypted file on one of Dick’s civilian devices, the one to mention it to Stephanie as a point of concern who went to Tim within the hour, but it was still his fault. He’d gotten Bruce involved, let his need for approval tip the tenuously balanced scales that kept his family whole and you safe. He’d talked them all into waiting until Dick was close enough to confront in-person, stopping by for his weekly equipment pick-up and check-in. He was the reason you’d gotten close enough to hear something about ‘pictures’ and ‘inappropriate use of reconnaissance material’ before fleeing to the mansion’s foyer – the only part of the house you could be sure wasn’t occupied. If you were lucky, you’d only be there for half an hour or so, enough time for them to compromise on some non-solution and return to your carefully maintained status quo. If you weren’t, you’d spend the early hours of the morning—
Something small but forceful hit the nearest window, shortly followed by another projectile, then another. The glass was too thick and the world outside too dark to make anything out, but you didn’t need to see anything to know who’d come to your rescue.
Jason.
You rushed to the door, then hesitated. Jason would only get a slap on the wrist for luring you out of the estate, and Bruce could never bring himself to be that strict with you, but now might’ve been a bad time. Tensions were already running high. Your little disappearing act wouldn’t—
A sudden rush of footsteps clattering through the ceiling from the floor above you, hushed voices raised just to the point of audibility. None of it was entirely coherent, but Dick’s came the closest. You managed to make out a half-choked “If you’d just let me—” before someone cut him off.
With your better judgement reduced to buzzing static, you pried open the closer of a pair of huge, mahogany doors and slipped out of the estate entirely.
Of course, Jason was waiting outside, a small stock of pebbles still in his left hand and, of course, you threw yourself at him, letting him catch and spin you twice before setting you back onto your feet with an airy laugh. A pitch-black sports car was waiting at the end of the driveway, the engine purring loudly enough to drown the rest of the world out. “Rough night?”
“You have no fucking idea,” you muttered, breathless. “I don’t care where we go, just get me out of here.”
There was a reason Jason was your favorite. There was no argument, no prying, just his arm around your waist as he herded you into the passenger seat. Fifteen minutes and a little over fifty miles later, the mansion was little more than a dull glow on the horizon, and you could pretend you’d stopped thinking about Bruce entirely.
There was no effort to make conversation, as bad as you felt about pulling Jason into your prolonged tryst with self-pity. Instead, you sunk into the leather of his seat and fixed your gaze on the passing landscape, clinging to any detail you were able to latch onto as it flew by. It was possible, between the subways and boarded-over windows and perpetually overcast skies, to go days without seeing the sun in Gotham. Still, your life had felt brighter there than it ever did in Bruce’s estate.
Jason turned down a road you didn’t recognize, and you managed to find your voice. “Are we going into the city?”
“Even better.” He flashed you a smile, the engine purring as he accelerated. “You’ll like it, I promise. Just sit tight.”
As if you had much of a choice.
Road gave way to forest, forest to empty plains, and empty plains to the dilapidated remains of what you could only label as a long-abandoned amusement park – like Disney World if there’d been some terrible, possibly nuclear accident followed by twenty or so years of absolute neglect. Jason’s car glided past the rusted remains of an iron gate, past the corpses of rides buckled under their own weight, and came to a stop in front of a paint-stripped merry-go-round almost entirely sheeted be vines and weeds and overgrowth. You let out a low whistle as he threw the gear shift into park and, for the first time in any vehicle you’d ever shared with him, pulled his keys out of the ignition. He’d always left the engine running while visiting the mansion, but then again, you’d always been pretty eager to make a hasty escape, too.
“I love it, Jason. I’ve always wanted to get tetanus from a broken down carnival.”
“A fair, actually,” he corrected, slipping his keys into his jacket pocket. Like he expected you to try and steal them while his back was turned, or something. “My parents used to take me here, before I met B. There weren’t a lot of Ferris wheels after that.”
There was a short lapse, the sound of lips moving against teeth. You made the mistake of humming, of glancing over to him, of leaving yourself open for another question, and Jason, as nice as he was, was more than happy to take advantage of you. “So, when did you and B start…”
He trailed off, drumming his fingers against the wheel. You filled in the rest with a breathy chuckle. “When did I start sleeping with your dad?”
He jabbed an elbow into your side. “First of all, you can admit you’re fucking him or call him my dad, but you’ve gotta pick one.” You opened your mouth, already ready to spit out some dumb joke about what Bruce would’ve preferred to be called, but Jason cut in, sniping your stupid joke out of the air. “Secondly, answer the question. I get enough of your diversions back at home.”
“Being a buzzkill must run in family,” you sighed, but gave in quickly enough. “It happened once before the whole kidnapping thing, when he was staying at my apartment and sleeping off a broken leg. I hadn’t even seen him without his mask on at that point, but I figured it was a sign – destiny, or something.” You did your best to smile, slumping against the door. “It was dumb. He gave me a couple weeks after bringing me to the estate, mostly because of the crying and stuff, but things started up again pretty quickly.”
“Do you… like it?”
“Do you like asking about your dad’s sex life?” He flinched back, and laughing, you went on. “I guess I don’t care. There’s not a lot else to do.” You swallowed. “Would it matter if I didn’t?”
For someone with so many questions, he didn’t leave a lot of time for yours, the hypocrite. Moving on swiftly, he asked, “And the others, have they…?”
“No.” And then, after a beat, “Not yet.”
He seemed to relax, at that. His back was still straight, his shoulders still squared, but his grip on the wheel loosened, his jaw unclenching ever so slightly. You tried the handle – locked. Obviously. As if you’d ever get that lucky.
His voice was soft, sweet. The kind of tone you’d use on a child, or an animal, or a doll. “This would probably be easier in the backseat, right?”
“Let me out.”
“So you can go where,baby? It’s just us out here.” He laughed, resting a hand on your thigh. You slammed your shoulder into the door. It didn’t budge. “Hey, hey, this doesn’t need to get rough. I’m not going to be like Dick. The others – they’ll do it wrong, treat you like a cut of meat they have to get to before anybody else. I just need to make sure you get out of this in one piece.”
Nails embedded in leather, body crammed as far from him as you could force it be. You weren’t hyperventilating, but only because you’d stopped breathing entirely. “Let me out, Jason.”
“I love the way you say my name. It’s pretty, and delicate – just like you.” He sighed, shook his head. “I know you don’t get it, but I’m just trying to take care of you, like you’ve been taking care of me for the past few—”
“Stop acting like I’m your mom.” A sob fractured the final syllable, another bubbling up from deep in your chest a moment later. Your body was beyond the point of rationality, but the soft, preservational part of your mind wasn’t so beyond the point of seeking refuge. There was a way out of this, as ghoulish as it seemed. You couldn’t stop it from happening, but you could make it better. You’d regret it in an hour, when it came time to explain yourself to Bruce, but what happened in an hour didn’t matter, not if you couldn’t survive the next few minutes.
You might’ve done it, too – or, you might’ve tried, at least. You wanted to. You planned to. And yet, when you opened your mouth, there was only one thing you could seem to say. “I don’t want to do this, Jason.”
His nails bit into your thigh, his smile easing at the corners. For a second, you almost thought he’d pull away. For a second, you almost thought he’d sigh, straighten back up, and admit this was all part of some cruel, unfunny joke that the two of you would remember fondly, later on.
Then, he laughed and leaned forward, lips brushing against the top of your head. You felt him speak before you heard his voice, but the cloying reverberation alone was enough to tell you that you would’ve been better off never saying anything at all.
“Welcome to the family, sweetheart.”
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sirxlla · 3 days ago
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Whispering dirty Christmas lines in the Batboys ears 🎄
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Dick: "Are you a candy cane? Because I’d like to lick you up and down." You said to him through comms.
"Y/N, you know everyone can hear you on comms." Dick stiffled a laugh.
"Oh, shit! Are you serious?" Embarressment and worry filling your voice.
"Nah, I'm just messing with ya. I switched our comms to private." Dick said with major confidence.
"Yeah, you must've not done it right Dumbass cause we can hear you loud and clear." Jason teases as he states through comms. Making your heart fall into your stomach.
Dick, in his embarressment stays silent the rest of patrol, you do as well. He thinks back to the comment in his heart swells proud of you for being confident enough to try to flirt with him considering usually you are fairly quiet and turned into a stuttering mess whenever he would flirt with you.
Jason: He was sitting on the couch reading a book just chilling. Something sweet about Jason is how the both of you needed space from each other on occasion but always came back to bother each other to tell each other about something that the other thought was interesting or random other things. You snuck up behind him even though he a thousand percent knew you were there before you got even close enough to whisper in his ear.
"Is your name Father Christmas? Because you look like a daddy to me." Giggling a bit as you spoke, your lips brushing against his earlobe.
"Babygirl, I'll be whoever you want as long as it makes you happy." He said with a charming smile; Something so lovely about Jason was how he could say just about anything and make it sound like smooth talking. He pulled you over the couch after setting down his book on the coffe table, sliding you into his lap facing him.
Bruce: You were in the cave filling in for Barbara as Oracle because she was feeling extremely sick this evening and Bruce wanted to give you a spin. Of course you have been flirting with him all evening.
"I need help spelling Elf. I have an E and an L. Can you give me an F?" You spouted the random Christmas pickup lines you read online cause this is exactly what Bruce intended the Batcomputer to be used for.
"I'm sorry, what?" He stopped in the middle of what he was doing on patrol.
"Seriously you just now noticed? I've been flirting with you all evening." There was a humor to your voice as you asked him in disbelief.
"Are you serious?" He asked with complete confusion and disbelief.
"Yes, I'm serious." An infectious laughs escaping your lips.
"Well at least youre having fun, Darling." He stated with a smile begging to reach his lips.
Tim: Everyone was sitting down for dinner as you passed him you whispered in his ear.
"Are you the Polar Express? Because I’d like to ride you." That's all it took for him to choke on his drink his face turning bright red. Of course you just returned your seat and acted like nothing had happened.
"What'd she say?" Dick teased Tim, noticing his younger brothers bright red face.
"I don't know but he is sure definitely gonna give Rudolph a run for his money." Jason teased as well.
"My face is not red, I don't know what you guys are talking about." Tim suttered as he lied through his teeth glancing at you. Obviously you had no choice but to look at him but you famed and innocent smile like you didn't just say that until his ear.
Damian: Considering how grumpy of a man he is you kind of knew what to expect when what you flirted with him in any sort of cringey cliche sort of way but that didn't stop you from trying and the joy you felt from his reaction so you walked into the training room.
"Do you believe in kissing someone under the mistletoe? Because mistletoe is what I named my sheets." You asked Damian with a shit eating grin.
"That's the best you could come up with?" He says with a bit of an annoyed tone as he approches you. There's a glint in your eye as you try to run off before you tackles you, a smile graces his thin lips, his smile sharp and cheeky.
"Oh no, I didn't say you could leave." he says in a rather happy tone, a tone he didn't let a lot of people see. He was very mushy on occasion and he could be extremely sweet.
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whistlewritesforfun · 1 day ago
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I had been (sorta) (kinda) (maybeeeeee) running a cult out of my ranch for years now. It was going pretty well I’d say! It was small but that made it inconspicuous. It was generating plenty of money for me and nobody cared enough about the run down ranch a few miles outside of town that the stranger individuals would visit frequently.
We had just finished up the usual “sacrifice” of a rat, a stringy thing I decided to put out of its misery after seeing it in a pathetic little tank in the store, when a blinding light emerged from its carcass. It was this odd grayish green color. Reminiscent of a rather painful turd or some especially stinky vomit.
Of course every religion needs a figurehead. I’d found some random God in an old history textbook from my mythology class. I’d just so happened to choose one that had a rodent schtick.
You could imagine my surprise when the little rat I’d just speared through exploded with that ugly green light, then warped and twisted. Convulsing about as it changed shape into what could best be described as a star made out of flesh, bone, and rat fur. It was hands down, the GROSSEST thing I’d ever seen.
And THEN the thing had the audacity to start speaking. Every utterance from its tongue caused another convulsion in the warped rat, a faint glow of that green emitting from the eyes. Which were much too far apart by this point. It really was horrible to look it, there were little bones sticking out and puncturing the flesh everywhere. Eugh. I should’ve picked a less gross god, maybe then I would’ve be in this horrendous predicament.
The warped rat body spoke to the congregation for about 30 minutes. For 25 of that I wasn’t paying attention because I didn’t want to barf all over my supposed deity. (There were little droplets of that disgusting rat blood on my ceremonial carpet. That particularly irked me.) For the last 5, I do not think I shall soon forget it.
“This my dear congregation!” (The rat… thingy… hovered a little bit closer to me.) “is a true servant! A true leader! And a true follower. He has blessed you with the gift of my existence. He has shepherded you along the way and through adversity to create my return! This man! He is now my high priest, henceforth until his death!”
“I’m what?” I couldn’t stop the blunt words from falling out of my mouth.
“You’re my high priest!”
“… riiiiiiiiiiiiight.”
“Do you… have doubts?” The rat-jumble asked, its scratchy voice reminded me of someone who was talking right after waking up, but very deep and highly unsettling.
“Am I really quite… priestly enough?” I asked, cringing slightly. It was evident I had made a very very grave mistake by this point.
“You’ve been preaching g for months. You brought me back from my slumber. I was sure I’d never be worshipped again. You are most certainly my high priest.” He… it… the rat thingy assured. I just nodded. I had entirely screwed myself. I was gonna be stuck with this cult the rest of my life…
“To go with your title high-priest, I will bestow on you a gift of my choosing.” Oh goody. Please don’t be dead rats. Please don’t be dead rats.
The rat sphere drifted nearer, the dripping of blood still grating on my nerves. Keeping the abject terror off my face was difficult beyond imagination. The orb then rotated so wherever the tail went in the warped carcass could tap me gently. As it did, I felt the most exhilarating burst of what I can only describe as rat magic.
“You shall be able to heal even the most sick and miserable. With your words, your touch, your compassion. The spread of sound and healthfulness shant be stopped but by your own limitation.”
I wasn’t sure what was appropriate at that moment so I kneeled. A particularly bad idea, as it now bug me in the rat-blood splash zone. I mean SERIOUSLY! This is the grossest vessel that he could’ve possibly picked! My carpet is entirely ruined!
With that final statement however, the pen fell to the ground with the most hideous mush noise, a few crackles, and what can best be written as a “Skrrrrrrsht.”
Now what on earth was I to do with this information… or ability. I certainly couldn’t heal my mind from what I’d just witnessed transpire. Believe me, I was trying. The divine are disgusting. So I wordlessly lead my congregation out of the doors of my makeshift chapel, and to the Waffle House half a mile away.
As is usual for Saturdays, we all ate at the Waffle House in our congregation robes. Today though. The viscous syrup warming my throat brought to mind the mental imagery of the rat blood. I shoved it aside and decided maybe to forgo the waffles… just for today.
You started a scam religion for a quick buck. You begin to panic when your fake god was actually a real forgotten one awakened from new worshippers, declared you it's high priest, and granted you the power of healing.
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wafflefries13 · 2 days ago
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Asking Out the Twisted Wonderland Cast (Multi TWST cast X Reader)
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Summary: Sometimes, you can't just wait for good things to happen to you. Time to screw your courage to the sticking place and finally ask out that boy you like!
AN: I meant for these each to be like 200 word drabbles. Some of them kind of got away from me, lol.
Cross-posted on my AO3 TheGhostInTheKitchen
Warnings: Fluff, AFAB reader with she/her pronouns.
Part 2: First Dates
The sounds of the NRC cafeteria clattered around the group of first years. Utensils scraping on plates, sizzling from the open window to the kitchen, a hundred different conversations from all sides. Their small group sat clustered around their table, nestled close together to be heard over the general din. 
“I’m just saying,” Ace said, mouth half full. 
“You’re always ‘just saying’,” Deuce said. 
Ace shoved him. “I’m just saying, if you want to try out for the anchor position on the track team you have to actually ask for it. Get Coach Vargas and don’t stop bugging him until he sees what you can do! No one’s going to just wait for it to happen.” 
“And I’m saying it doesn't do any good to be a nuisance when I don’t even know if I’m good enough yet. I might as well wait till tryouts next semester.” 
“No, no, he’s right,” (Y/N) said, distantly. 
“Yeah!” Ace said. “Wait, right about what?” 
“You can’t just wait for stuff to happen to you. If you really want something you have to go and take it for yourself.” She stood abruptly, face determined. “I need to ask something.” 
Ace:
“Ace!” 
Ace jumped, brushing off crumbs from his jacket. “What? What did I do now?” 
“Do you want to go out with me?” 
Epel choked, Jack thumping him on the back. Deuce looked like she had just insulted his mother. Sebek rolled his eyes as he took another bite. Ortho gasped, leaning forward, eyes wide and excited. 
“I-What?” Ace stuttered, his face rapidly turning red. “Where the heck did that come from?” 
“You were just saying you shouldn’t wait for something you want. I like you, I have for a while now. So, do you want to go out?” 
Ace stuttered out a reply, slapping on his normal cocky smile but decidedly not meeting (Y/N)’s eyes. “I mean, yeah, of course you fell for me! It’s about time you said something. But, um, yeah, I’d like that. A lot.” 
“Well,” Deuce said, rolling his eyes. “It’s about time one of you said something.” 
“Hey!” Ace shouted. “What’s that supposed to mean?” 
(Y/N) playfully shoved him. “Oh, please, don’t act like I haven’t noticed that you like me too. You’re not subtle about it.” 
“What made you think that?” 
“Ace, within the first week of me being here you asked to sleep in the same bed as me twice.” 
From another table, definitely not eavesdropping, Riddle fainted. 
Deuce:
“Deuce!” Deuce jumped at (Y/N) suddenly shouting his name. “I need your help with something. Can you come with me for a second?” 
“Oh, yeah, sure, of course.” Deuce ignored Ace’s pointed look. Deuce followed (Y/N) out of the cafeteria down the halls. “Where are we going?” 
(Y/N) suddenly turned around, Deuce almost colliding with her. Before he could apologize, she took his hands, looking up into his eyes as he felt blood rush to his cheeks. 
“I just wanted somewhere more private,” She said. “Deuce, I really like you. Will you go out with me?” 
“I-huh?! I mean, yeah, yes! I like you, too!” He rubbed the back of his head and looked away shyly. “Man, I wanted to ask you out first.” 
(Y/N) grinned. “Really? How were you going to do it?” 
“Well, my mom said that when my dad first asked her out he got her this big bouquet of flowers. But he ended up being allergic to them so he kept sneezing the whole time. She took him to the infirmary at their school and he had to write it down since his face was too swollen to talk.” 
“Well, I wouldn’t say no to flowers. Maybe we can skip the rest of that, though.” 
Deuce marched over to the cut out window of the hallway, opening out onto the quad. Reaching over, he plucked a fluffy pink peony from one of the bushes. He came back to (Y/N), suddenly very flustered, and held it out to her. 
“(Y/N),” He began. 
She clasped her hands together. “Yes?” 
“Would you do me the honor of - Ah!” Deuce yelped as a bee flew out of the peony blossom, shooting for Deuce’s face to sting him. 
Turns out, they did spend time in the infirmary. But, after (Y/N) kissed his cheek and gently held the flower, Deuce didn’t seem to mind too much. 
Trey: 
“Ow!” 
Trey paused outside the Heartslabyul kitchen as he heard the exclamation from inside. He was planning on testing out a new bread recipe his parents had sent him and wasn’t expecting anyone else to be using the kitchen that day. He peaked in, seeing (Y/N), Grim, Ace, and Deuce crowded around the island in the middle. (Y/N) was blowing on a burn on her hand, Grim rifling through the pantry for various sweets, and Ace and Deuce waving away smoke from a burnt pastry freshly pulled from the oven. 
“I told you!” (Y/N) said. “You can’t just raise the temperature for it to cook faster, it’ll just burn!” 
“Well, sorry for trying to make your confession go faster before you chicken out,” Ace said. 
“I’m not going to chicken out! Probably. Maybe. What if the pie burning is an omen?” 
“I wouldn’t read too deeply into it,” Trey said, entering the kitchen. The first years jumped, (Y/N)’s eyes going wide and she stared at the floor. 
“Well!” Deuce said, grabbing Ace and Grim and hurrying them out the door. “Omen or not, that’s our cue to leave. Good luck, (Y/N)!” 
Silence echoed around the two of them as the door of the kitchen thunked closed. (Y/N) fiddled with her fingers, still not looking up. Trey walked around the island, looking at the smoldering pie. There was a mostly neat lattice across the bubbling fruit, with extra crust cut into letters around the rim. 
“‘Trey,’” He read. “‘Will you-’”
“Ah! No, wait!” (Y/N) jumped forward, covering it with her hands. She jumped back as her palm accidentally hit the hot pie tin, giving her another burn. 
“Oh, wait, hang on.” Trey quickly went over to the sink, grabbing a clean towel and soaking it in cold water. He gently took her hand, pressing it to the burn. (Y/N) chewed her lip. “You know, I’d be happy to help if you want to try again. I’ve been wanting to try this new butter pie crust that’s good with custards and-”
“I really like you!” (Y/N) blurted out, face going as hot as the burn on her hand. “Would you want to go out with me? Please?” 
Trey tightened his grip on her hand, careful to avoid the injury. He smiled, laughing. “I was wondering if I should say it first. I guess you beat me to it. Yes, (Y/N), I’d love to go out with you.”  
Cater: 
Cater was relaxing in the Heartslabyul gardens, a can of red paint discarded beside him. He hummed something the pop music club had been working on as he scrolled through Magicam. He took a quick selfie, winking, tongue out with a peace sign, before refreshing his feed. 
He paused when he saw (Y/N) come across his dash. She was smiling brightly, one arm arched above her head and the other held down at an angle to create half a heart. The word ‘Will’ was written in bubbly cartoon letters in the middle. A few posts later, there was a second photo, an almost perfect mirror of the first to complete the heart. The word ‘You’ was written in the middle of this one. 
Cater almost felt like he was solving a puzzle as he searched the rest of his feed for more posts. Each had (Y/N) in a dramatic pose, adding another word to complete the sentence, ‘Go,’ ‘Out,’ ‘With’, ‘Me.’ When he realized it was a request to ask someone out, he couldn’t help but feel a little deflated. He shook his head. Of course (Y/N) would be crushing on someone. With all the adventures she had gone on during their time at NRC, it would make sense to develop strong feelings. He tried to quiet the voice in his head that hoped those strong feelings would go his way. Well, whatever, that just meant he had to keep a close eye on whoever had earned her affections, maybe give them a good threatening to treat her right while he was at it. 
Cater tapped on her name, taking him to her Magicam profile. It felt like just the other day when he was helping her set it up. He sighed at the happy memory. For a second, it occurred to him that the message (Y/N) had been spelling out in pictures didn’t end with a question mark. He thought it was weird. Was it a mistake? Then his eye caught on the latest picture, posted just a second before. 
It was a selfie of (Y/N) holding a large bouquet of yellow and orange flowers, marigolds, daisies, and buttercups. The majority of the frame was over her shoulder, showing Cater himself sitting against the hedges. His name was drawn in the same cartoon font with a question mark, surrounded by a heart.  
Cater snapped up, whirling around. He quickly whipped away the happy tears budding at the corner of his eyes as he saw (Y/N) waiting for him. The flowers were crushed between them as he scooped her up in a tight hug, both of them laughing. 
(They both carefully rearranged the flowers after to be presentable for the mandatory #TogetherForever couple photoshoot after.) 
Riddle: 
Riddle frowned at the commotion building from the Heartslabyul common room. He could make out the familiar rising sounds of Ace and Deuce’s voices. He began marching to the source of the racket, faltering a little when he heard (Y/N)’s voice joining in. Mentally scolding himself from eavesdropping  (it wasn’t eavesdropping, he was keeping tabs on his dorm mates, that’s it) he hovered near the cracked open door. 
“No, wait!” (Y/N) said. “We can’t use coral roses! I said pink!” 
Ace huffed. “What’s the difference?” 
(Y/N) tapped a small dark red book she was holding. “Coral roses symbolize desire, pink roses mean admiration and happiness. I’m not trying to scare him off before I can even ask him out!” 
Before he could even think about it, Riddle threw open the door, shouting, “Just what is going on here?” 
Everyone inside jumped. Riddle swept his eyes across the room, taking in the bundles and bundles of roses in multiple colors carefully poised on every surface. Ace and Deuce were meticulously balancing a bouquet in the chandelier, plucking out the offending coral colored roses. Cater was smirking in the corner, phone poised to capture everything. Trey chuckled behind his own large bouquet of yellow roses.. 
“Um,” She said, startled by his interruption. Taking a deep breath, she set the book down and picked up a bouquet of lavender roses, shoving them in Riddle’s direction. 
‘Lavender,’ He thought. ‘Love at first sight.’ 
“Riddle!” She said, probably a little too loudly. “I really like you! Would you go out with me?” 
The silence that followed was deafening. Cater tried to break the tension with a laugh. “Aww, (Y/N),” He said. “What happened to that whole speech you had?” 
“He surprised me!” She said. “Oh, wait, hang on, I still have it.” Without thinking, she shoved the bouquet in Riddle’s arms, searching her pockets to pull out a neatly folded piece of notebook paper. “Ahem. Riddle, I have struggled in vain and I can bear it no longer. These past few months have been a torment. I came to Heartslabuyl with the single objective to see you. I-” 
“Everyone out!” Riddle shouted. As the group scuttled to the door, he pointed at (Y/N). “Not you.” 
The door thudded behind them, Ace and Deuce giving a quick thumbs up and what was supposed to be a confident smile as they left. (Y/N) crinkled the paper in her hands. 
“It gets better,” She said meekly. “The speech. Although I guess in the movie it ends with a rejection too. I should have used the one from the end, or Shakespeare maybe. Shall I compare thee to a summer's day? Thou art more lovely and more - well, I guess you're not very temperate. Wait, let me try again.” 
“(Y/N),” He said. He held the lavender flowers tightly. “You know what this means?” 
“Oh, the flowers? Yeah, I, um, I’ve been studying.” She picked the book back up, shyly holding it up. Riddle could read the title now: The Queen of Hearts Guide to Courtship and Love. 
“You,” Riddle said, feeling his face heat up. He held up the flowers. “You mean it? Really?” 
(Y/N) took a step towards him, understanding softening the worry on her face. “Of course. I wanted to ask you out and I thought, well,” She waved at the multicolored roses, laughing. “Go big or go home, right?” 
“It certainly is a statement.” Riddle picked up a yellow rose with red tipping the petals and handed it to her. (Y/N) recognized the colors immediately as meaning ‘Falling in love.’ She gasped in happiness, jumping forward to wrap Riddle in a tight hug. 
Leona: 
“Ruggie!” Ruggie paused as he heard (Y/N) call his name. She jogged over to him where he held Leona’s typical boxed lunch order. “Hey, that’s for Leona, right? Do you mind if I bring it to him? There’s something important I have to talk to him about.” Ruggie considered it for a moment before shrugging and handing it over, but not before stealing a couple of chips to pop into his mouth as he strolled away. 
(Y/N) found Leona in his normal spot, a hidden alcove in the gardens in the biodome. He was laying on his back, arms crossed behind his head, and eyes closed as he dozed. He cracked his eye open as (Y/N) approached. 
“Hi,” She said, kneeling down beside him. 
“Hmm,” He replied. 
“I have something important to ask you.” 
“Are you going to try and make me get up?” “No.” 
“Alright, ask away.” 
“Will you go out with me?” 
Leona’s eyes snapped open. He pushed himself up on his elbows to stare at (Y/N), smiling sincerely at him, and maybe holding his lunch hostage until she got an answer. 
“I really like you,” She continued. “You’re brave and confident and know exactly who you are. Sure, you can be stubborn as hell, but you also really care about people close to you. Don’t make that face, you can’t fool me. You could have easily thrown me out when Grim and I needed someplace to stay when Azul took over Ramshackle, but you didn’t. You didn’t even kick us out when we were making so much noise and annoying you, you helped us break Azul’s contracts instead. You joined the Culinary Crucible because Epel did and you wanted to keep an eye on your team mate. Please, as if you ever need to learn how to cook, I know you can’t even use a microwave. And you pretend not to notice when Ruggie steals your credit card. And there was that time you followed all of us to Playful Land because you were worried we were going to get scammed. You didn’t have to do that, but you did. You’ve got a big heart of gold under that spiky exterior. And I really admire you for that. I… I really love you, Leona.” 
“Well,” Leona said, laying back down, tail flicking. “I suppose going on a date wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world.” (Y/N) decided not to point out the content smile stretching across his face. She made a move to stand up, but Leona shot an arm out to hook around her waist, pulling her down next to him with an “Oof.” “Now don’t tell anyone else about all that,” Leona grumbled without any real heat. 
Ruggie: 
Ruggie was in Leona’s room, folding laundry while the house warden took a nap behind him. Ruggie stretched his arms above his head, sighing when there was a satisfying pop in his back. Suddenly, the door to the room slammed open. Ruggie yelped and Leona woke with an undignified snort. 
“Gah, what now?” Leona mumbled. 
“Ruggie!” (Y/N) said, standing in the doorway. She was panting as if she had just run across campus (she had). 
“Uh, what? Yeah? Whatever it was, I didn’t take it!” 
Unperturbed, (Y/N) marched over to him, taking both his hands in hers. “You did take something.” Ruggie frantically tried to remember if he had stolen anything from Ramshackle recently. He tried not to, knowing (Y/N) was pretty much as broke as he was. It didn’t seem fair. And maybe he liked her a little too much to swipe something. “You stole my heart!” (Y/N) continued dramatically. “Will you go out with me?” 
Behind them, Leona coughed to unconvincingly cover up a laugh. 
Ruggie’s ears flattened to his head in shock. He reached back and batted at his tail as if that would get it to stop wagging. “I - what? Are you sure? Me? What?” 
“Of course! You’re resourceful, you work hard, you’re clever, and you care a lot about your family back home. I really admire all that about you and more! Not to mention you’re super cute. So, will you go out with me?” 
“Oh, just say yes already, Ruggie,” Leona said, settling down to continue his nap. “At least then I won’t have to hear you being such a sap all the time.” 
Ruggie let out his signature laugh. He tightened his grip on (Y/N)’s hands. “Well, sure then, why not? As long as you’re paying, right?” 
Jack: 
Jack and Vil were out on their daily morning run. The sun was just beginning to rise over the horizon, casting the Night Raven College campus in a warm golden light. At their halfway point, they took a break, Vil stretching in his cooldown. 
“You sure you don’t want to keep going with me?” Jack asked. 
“No,” Vil said. “I’d rather stay slim than bulk up like you. I have my status to maintain. And besides, it looks like I would be interrupting something rather important.” He smiled knowingly and pointed with his chin a little ways down the sidewalk. 
Jack turned. He felt his tail start to wag on its own when he saw (Y/N) standing by one of the Great Seven statues, drawing circles in the ground with her foot. She looked up, breaking out in a warm smile when she saw him. Vil chuckled under his breath and waved as he headed back to Pomfiore. 
Jack clenched his jaw, willing his tail to stay still as he approached her. “Good morning. You’re not usually up this early, right? Is everything okay?” 
(Y/N) jutted her arms out completely straight, offering up the flowering Chin cactus in her hands. “Jack!” She said. “I really like you. I love how brave you are. I love how you’re dedicated to the people you care about. I love how you can be sweet and kind even when you try to act tough all the time. Would you go out with me?” 
“Yes!” Jack replied, almost before the words had even left (Y/N)’s mouth. He put his hands over hers, cradling the cactus. “I mean, yes, I would like to go out with you. Very much.” 
Azul: 
Azul jumped as (Y/N) slammed her hands on his desk in the VIP room of the Monstro Lounge. He quickly gathered his composer, pushing his glasses back up his nose. “Well, Prefect, to what do I owe the pleasure?” 
“I have a deal for you,” She said confidently. 
“Oh? I’d love to hear it.” 
Smiling, she whipped out a sheet of paper and slapped it on top of the other documents Azul had spread over his desk. On the top of the page in an elegant script were the words ‘Contract of First Date.’ Azul felt a lump form in his throat as his heart sped up. He quickly scanned over the rest of the ‘contract,’ outlining the proposed date. 
“Terms of the deal,” (Y/N) continued. “You, me, romantic night out. I know a guy in Craneport who said we could use one of their rowboats and I found this really cool pond with all these willow trees and fireflies. Plus I have this cute picnic basket all set up. Jamil has been teaching me how to cook, you know? Can’t say it’ll be as good as his, if we’re being honest about the terms of agreement. And the contract leaves an opening for future dates depending on the success of this one! Of course, success is not really a super definable term but you get what I mean. So, do we have a deal?” 
Azul covered his face with one hand, trying desperately to ignore how red his face must be at this point. He couldn’t seem to meet her enthusiastic and twinkling eyes. 
“I, uh,” (Y/N) continued, shyer this time as Azul scanned over the contract. “I really like you, Azul. A lot. So, will you go out with me?” 
He looked back down at the contract where her name was written in elegant script at the bottom with space for his next to it. He cleared his throat, bringing back his practiced (definitely not shady) businessman smile. With a sweep of his pen, he said, “It’s a deal.” 
Jade: 
(Y/N) marched across the cafeteria, determination in her eyes. She stopped in front of a table with Jade, Floyd, and Azul. “Hi!” She said, maybe a little too loudly with nerves. Jade and Azul looked up from their conversation, Floyd pausing his efforts in making a castle out of mashed potatoes. “Jade, I really like you. Do you want to go out with me?” 
“Oh?” Jade said, a brief moment of genuine surprise crossing his face before he schooled his features back into pleasant neutrality. “Well, what a pleasant surprise.” 
Floyd snorted and elbowed his brother. “Shrimpy’s got a crush,” He said in a sing-song voice. 
“I must admit,” Jade said, pouting with one hand on his cheek. “I always did imagine a more theatrical confession. Nonetheless, I happily acc-” 
“I can do that!” (Y/N) interrupted. Holding on to Floyd’s shoulder for balance, she climbed on top of the table. She clapped her hands loudly, shouting, “Attention! Attention, please, everyone! I have an announcement!” She cleared her throat as the room fell silent. “I would like to declare my unequivocal, utter devotion and love for Jade Leech.” She heard a choking sound below her but continued on. “I am hopelessly in love, helplessly enraptured, and absolutely head over heels. And it is my deepest hope that he could return my affections. Thank you.” With that, she hopped down, beaming. There was a smattering of applause and laughter from around the room. Epel whooped from back at the first year table. 
Jade’s hands covered his blushing face, fierce sharp eyes peeking out between his fingers. His mouth was split in a wide smile, sharp teeth glinting in a mixture of bashfulness, excitement, and desire. 
“Congratulations, (Y/N),” Azul said. “I can barely remember that last time Jade was actually flustered.” 
“Aww, look at him, he’s speechless!” Floyd teased. 
(Y/N) winced. “Sorry, was that too far?” 
Jade shot out with lightning speed, crushing her in his tight eel grip. “I should let you know,” He whispered to her. “I expect this level of dedication for the entirety of our relationship.” 
Floyd: 
Floyd darted through the stacks of the library. He could have sworn he saw Goldfish in here earlier, and he was in the mood to mess with the easily angered boy. And, while he didn’t find Riddle, he did pause as he saw (Y/N) between the books. He paused, pushing a few books aside to rest his chin on the shelf, an easy smile crossing his face as he spied on her. 
She was hunched over one of the study tables, a large book propped up and open in front of her. She was diligently working on something in her hands, tongue poking out between her lips (lips that Floyd found himself thinking about more often than he would admit), looking back up at the book in front of her every so often. 
Dropping down low, Floyd carefully made his way behind her, silent on his feet. Rising up to his full height behind her, unsuspecting, he jolted forward, wrapping her in a backward hug and pulling her back so the chair careened back on two legs. 
“Shrimpy!” He said, taking delight in her startled squeal. “Whatcha doin’?” 
“God, Floyd,” (Y/N) said, putting a hand to her chest to calm her raging heart. Her eyes suddenly went wide and she lunged forward to cover what she was working on with her arms. “Ah! Don’t look, don’t look! It’s not done!” 
Floyd grinned again. “Aww, it’s not nice to keep secrets.” His hands shot out, pulling out the thing she was hiding. (Y/N) covered her face as Floyd inspected the object. It was a thick piece of twine, various polished shells, sea glass, and dried shiny scales strung throughout. Although it wasn’t exactly neat, the way it caught the sunlight cast tiny rainbows and simmers around the library. Floyd peered at the open book. It was a cultural history of merpeople in the Coral Sea. The opened chapter described mer courting rituals and marriage traditions. Floyd started cackling as (Y/N) buried her face further in her hands.  
“How old is this thing?” Floyd asked, poking at the book. “I don’t even think my grandparents made courting charms.” 
“Shut up,” (Y/N) mumbled. “I was trying to… Forget it.” 
Floyd slipped the haphazard necklace over his neck, prying her hands away to hold them tightly in his. “I accept!” He said brightly. “This was for me, right? It better be, Shrimpy.” 
She smiled and flicked his forehead. “Possibly against my better judgment, I wouldn’t want to be with anyone else, Floyd.” 
Kalim: 
Kalim knew he should probably be studying, but every time he opened a text book or looked at the notes Jamil had oh-so-carefully marked and tabbed for him, he felt his eyes start to droop and mind get fuzzy. A good after lunch walk was just what he needed, and he definitely wasn’t just saying that to put off work. 
He stopped when he realized he had wandered outside Ramshackle dorm. Was that on purpose? Did he subconsciously come here, with the hope he might see (Y/N)? Kalim walked up to the front door, knocking before opening the door and calling inside. 
“Hello! It’s Kalim! Can I come in?” 
There was a squawk of surprise from the front sitting room. (Y/N) poked her head around the corner, flustered. 
“Hi. Sure, come on in. Uh, sorry, I’m kind of in the middle of something.” 
“Can I help?” Kalim asked, walking over to her. Peering into the sitting room, Kalim’s face lit up. Every available surface, and a few unavailable surfaces, were covered in colored and patterned paper. There were stacks and crowds of tiny paper birds littered between everything. 
“I don’t know if it counts if more people make them.” 
Kalim sat on one of the plush chairs, picking up a flowery piece of paper. “If what will count?” 
“It’s an old superstition from my world. If you can fold 1000 paper cranes, your wish will come true. Or something like that.” 
“Ooh, origami! I’ve made decorations using that before! I’m not super good at it, but I’ll help if you want.” 
(Y/N) smiled and sat next to him and Kalim felt his heart flip. “Yeah, I’d like the company.” 
They lost track of time folding cranes, the sun beginning to set high above the dilapidated house. They talked the whole time, jumping from topic to topic, joke to joke, without any real sense of flow. It was warm, there in the small room, not only due to the crackling fireplace. 
“So,” Kalim asked eventually. “What wish were you wanting to make? If this dosen’t work out, I can help you with it!” 
(Y/N) suddenly went bashful, turning away to pay extra attention to the folds of her bird. “I…” She muttered. She took a deep breath, turning to fully face Kalim. “I was going to ask you out. You have all these elaborate decorations and parties all the time. I was going to string all of these together and hang them in your room then ask you out. But, now that you’re here… Kalim, would you go out with me?” 
Kalim dropped the paper crane, flinging himself across the couch to wrap her in a tight hug. “Yes! Yes, yes yes! Oh, I would love to! Huh, I guess that means I need to cancel that order of doves now. That’s how I was going to ask you out next week. Hey, we both thought of birds! That must mean we definitely belong together, right?” 
Jamil: 
“Be right back,” (Y/N) said, standing from the first year cafeteria table. She walked across the cafeteria until she stopped in front of Kalim and Jamil. 
Jamil was shoving a napkin at Kalim. “Careful, you’re going to get sauce all over your shirt.” 
“It’s fine, I’ll be careful! And besides, it’s a pretty color, right? Oh, hey, (Y/N)!” 
“Hi,” She said, looking solely at Jamil. “Jamil, I really like you. Would you want to go out with me?” 
Kalim gasped, hands to his cheeks as he looked excitedly from Jamil to (Y/N). Jamil sucked in a sharp breath, clenching his hands. “I…” He started. “I’m sorry, (Y/N). I can’t.” 
“Oh.” Jamil looked down, but not before he caught the hurt confusion on (Y/N) face. “That’s okay. Thanks for hearing me out. Bye, guys.” She walked back to her table. 
Jamil only looked up again when Kalim slapped his arm. “Jamil! That was your chance!” 
Jamil scowled. “There is no chance. I said no, she accepted it. Drop it.” 
“But you told me you liked her!” 
“I said no such thing.” 
Kalim waved his hand dismissively. “I read between the lines.” 
“There were no lines!” 
“Jamil.” He looked up at Kalim. It wasn’t often the other boy used such a serious voice, or had such a set expression on his face. “You can’t keep doing this. You can’t keep yourself from being happy because you feel like you don’t deserve it.” 
Jamil flinched back, standing suddenly. A million retorts zipped through this mind at once, all of them falling flat and dying on his tongue. Before he could say something he would regret, heart thundering in his ears, he fled the cafeteria, ignoring the stabbing looks from the first year table as (Y/N)’s friends gave her sympathetic pats on the back. 
Jamil couldn’t sleep. He tossed and turned in his bed, listening to the soft, even breathing of his roommate. Huffing in annoyance, he threw off the covers and left his room. He thought he would just take a walk, just get some fresh air. Without paying attention, Jamil’s feet took him out of Scarabia, across campus, and, before he knew it, in front of Ramshackle dorm. His fist hovered in front of the door, internally debating whether or not he should knock. He startled when he heard talking behind him, spotting (Y/N) and Malleus making their way up the pathway. 
(Y/N) stopped when she saw him. “Oh. Hi, Jamil.” 
“Hi,” Jamil said, limply lifting a hand in greeting. 
Malleus looked down at Jamil, glaring. “Viper.” It sounded more like an insult than his name. 
“Did you need something?” (Y/N) asked. “It’s kind of late. Is everything okay?” 
“I-” Jamil started. “I need to talk to you.” 
Malleus stepped in front of (Y/N), but stopped when (Y/N) put a hand on his arm. They had a quick and quiet conversation, Malleus nodded and walked away. (Y/N) came up to the front door, opening it for him. 
“I’ll make some tea,” She said as they stepped into the entryway. 
“Wait-” Jamil said, catching her hand. Everything tumbled out of him all at once. “I wanted to go out with you. I like you, so much so that it scares me sometimes. That’s why I said no earlier. I just think - I thought you would - should - do better than me, after everything that’s happened. But I -” He paused, only realizing now how out of breath he was. (Y/N) looked up at him and he felt breathless all over again. “I want to do better. I want to be better, for you if not for anything else. I know I probably don’t deserve it but, (Y/N), will you go out with me?” 
(Y/N) laughed, wiping away tears at the corners of her eyes with the heel of her hand. “Yes, I’d like that a lot.” 
Vil: 
Something was wrong, Vil could feel it. After all the chaos of his time at Night Raven College, he had almost developed a sixth sense for this type of thing. 
Vil narrowed his eyes, sweeping them over the Pomfiore sitting room. A group of students were sitting around one of the tables, studying. A few others were in front of the fireplace. A couple others were performing some viral dance for a Magicam reel. Nothing seemed amiss here. 
Vil walked down the hall of the dorm, heels clicking against the marble floor. With a missed step, Vil realized he hadn’t seen Epel or Rook in quite some time. That was… concerning. He quickened his walk. 
Vil almost gave himself whiplash as he passed by the ballroom. The door was cracked open ever so slightly so he could peer through. He felt slightly ridiculous, eavesdropping as if he wasn’t the caretaker for the dorm and all those in it. But his thoughts faltered as he observed the scene inside. He found Epel and Rook, as well as several other Pomfiore students, constructing elaborate sets out of painted cardboard and repurposed decorations from the dorm. Was that…? Something about this all seemed eerily familiar. 
“Wait, wait! You’re early!” (Y/N) said. She appeared in front of him, waving her hands to try and block his view. She grabbed his hand, tugging him out of the room. “Don’t look!” She pushed him back into the hall, disappearing back into the ballroom. A second later, she emerged with a chair, setting it down and waving to it. “Just another few minutes.” The door clicked closed behind her before Vil could say anything. He thought about barging in, demanding an explanation. But his curiosity got the better of him. And besides, he always loved to see what (Y/N) got up to. Huffing in amusement, he sat down, crossing his legs at the ankles. 
A while later, Epel, Rook, and the other students fled the ballroom, giving Vil knowing looks as they passed. With skepticism, Vil stood up and made his way inside. Standing in the doorway, he was suddenly hit with a wave of nostalgia. Taking a better look, he recognized the replica set. It was from one of his first ever movies, a children’s adventure called The Heist of the Everlasting Rose. This particular scene was set in a museum where the Everlasting Rose was kept. It had been a supporting role, where, ironically, he had played a child actor in part of a crew to steal the titular Rose to pay for the main character’s sister’s surgery, or some other such justifiable nonsense like that. It was his first big screen production, although it was a relatively low-budget and minor movie. He remembered after the film had come out he and his father would pour over reviews praising his performance. At that moment, he felt like he was on top of the world. 
Vil was brought out of his reminiscing by (Y/N)’s voice. “Hello, sir!” She said. She had put on a tour guide’s jacket, once again modeled after the one in the film. “Welcome to the museum! We have our prized exhibit right this way.” Vil smirked, humoring her, if nothing else than to see where this was all going. Linking their arms, (Y/N) brought him through the makeshift museum. “Legend has it that this rose was given by a cursed prince to his beloved, who saved him from the brink of death with its magical powers. Since then, it has been a symbol of pure and everlasting love.” She carefully lifted the cloche from the silk flower, tiny fairy lights arranged around the base. She held it out to him, one hand dramatically pressed to her chest. “And now, I’d like to give it to you, Vil, to profess my everlasting love. Would you go out with me?” 
Vil couldn’t help it, it was all too much. The extravagant set, (Y/N) memorizing specific passages from such an old and now obscure film, the entire production. He burst out laughing, pressing the back of his hand against his mouth, eyes closed. “Well,” He said, catching his breath. “After such a wonderful effort, how could I possibly say no? Yes, my dearest (Y/N), I would love nothing more than to be with you.” 
Rook: 
“(Y/N), you’re gonna shoot your eye out.” 
“No, it’ll be fine. You have to take risks for the sake of love.” 
“Oh, Seven, we don’t need two of you.” 
Rook’s ears picked up, hearing Epel and (Y/N) talking in the back gardens of the Pomefiore dorm. Smiling, he crept around to (definitely not) spy on them. (Y/N) was struggling with a large bow, an arrow flopping around as she tried to aim it. Pomfiore had a small target practice area set up in the back of the dorm. (Y/N) was trying, emphasis on trying, to shoot arrows at one of the red and white round targets. After her latest arrow struck the ground in front of the target, Epel sighed and walked to the target, collecting other fallen arrows. He stabbed them into the target in the shape of a heart, a letter with Rook’s name pinned to the bullseye. 
“Don’t say I never did anything for you,” Epel said. 
“Oh? And what favor are you performing, Monsieur Pommette?” Both of them jumped, Rook smiling wider at the surprised squeak (Y/N) made. 
“You’re on your own, (Y/N)!” Epel said before rushing off. 
(Y/N) huffed. “Traitor,” She said under her breath. She turned to Rook. “Hi.” 
“Bonjour, Trickster.” 
“You’re, uh, early. I thought you were going to be at your club for a while longer.” 
Rook waved a hand. “There was an unexpected explosion and we had to evacuate. But I am much more interested in what you’re up to here.” 
“Ah, well…” She trailed off, limply pointing to the letter stabbed in the target. She covered her face with her hands, heat rushing to her cheeks as Rook elegantly plucked the letter up and began reading. 
(Y/N) could basically see the hearts forming in his eyes as he finished reading her confession. He dramatically clutched the love letter to his chest, pressing the back of his hand to his forehead. “Oh, mon amour le plus cher! Comme c’est merveilleux de lire vos sentiments les plus caret! Je n’ai jamais vu quelque chose d’aussi beau!” 
“So,” (Y/N) asked nervously. “Is that a yes?” 
“Oui, oui! One thousand times oui!” He cheered as he gathered her in a swinging hug. 
Epel: 
Epel found the first note the day after (Y/N)’s announcement in the cafeteria. Whatever she had wanted to do was apparently pretty important, as she had grabbed Grim and they left immediately. Epel hadn’t seen her the rest of the day, but he would recognize that handwriting on the paper wrapped around his dorm room handle anywhere. 
He looked around to make sure no one was watching before unfolding the paper and reading. ‘Epel, I have something important I need to ask, but before that I have a simple task. Take this first note of the set and go to the place we first met. Love, (Y/N).’ Epel tried not to think too much about that ‘Love’ part. Where did he and (Y/N) first meet? At this point it almost felt like they had known eachother forever. 
Would that be, maybe, the well in the quad? Epel remembered meeting her, Ace, Deuce, and Grim there when he was rehearsing singing, using the well’s acoustics. But, no, they had seen each other somewhere else first. Epel blushed in embarrassment at the memory. He had been crying, frustrated to hell and back with Vil’s lectures right after coming back from winter break. He’d run into them at the Great Seven statues. 
Epel went to the statues, deciding if he didn’t find anything there he would try the well. But, lo and behold, another note was waiting at the base of the Fairest Queen’s statue. He read, ‘Epel, Congrats on finding your second clue! By now you have an idea of what to do. For the next place I want you to go, think of the place we lived side by side before the show. Love, (Y/N).’ 
That one was easy, Ramshackle dorm. As Epel sprinted across campus, both notes held tightly in his fist, he reminisced about spending his days training for the VDC in Ramshackle. Most of the time there seemed like torture, running endless dancing drills, feeling constricted by Vil’s lessons whose purpose he still didn’t fully understand at the time, worrying about the whole dorm falling down around his ears at any moment. But there were plenty of good moments too. (Y/N) making them - Vil approved - breakfast in the morning, her encouragement at each of their rehearsals, how she would slip them treats when Vil and Rook’s backs were turned to help boost their mood. 
Sure enough, Epel found his next note on the Ramshackle front gate. There was another rhyme instructing him to go to another location, also connected to his and (Y/N)’s relationship and past. That lead to another and to another and another, each unlocking a precious memory between the two. Eventually, he unfolded the final note, the sun just starting to set, casting NRC in beautiful golden light. ‘Epel, I hope by now you get to see exactly how much you mean to me. We’ve been through a lot and I’ve enjoyed every and I’ve enjoyed every second, and… Okay, I can’t come up with any more rhymes. Just turn around!’ 
Lowering the paper, Epel turned, opening his arms just in time to catch (Y/N) in a big hug. They spun around each other for a second with the momentum, finally coming to a stop and looking to each other's eyes. 
“Hi,” (Y/N) said. “Did you like my scavenger hunt?” 
“You’re bad at rhyming,” Epel said with a crooked smile. 
She wacked his shoulder. “Hey, I meant what I wrote, though. I really like you, Epel. Would you go out with me?” 
Epel squeaked her tight. “Only if you promise not to write any more poetry.” 
Idia: 
Idia was holding out in his room, huddled under a blanket, his phone clutched tight in his hand. He was watching a live stream from his favorite idol group, Premo. He smiled as the group answered fan questions, talked about their upcoming tour, and demonstrated how to perform some of their most famous dance moves. 
The viewer chat scrolled across the side of the screen. Donations and chat reactions popped up in various animations across the screen. Idia hit the donate button, sending a flurry of roses blooming along the edges of the screen. He smiled as the idols thanked Gloomurai for his support. 
One of the idols leaned over, checking the chat feed. She gasped, flapping a hand at the others and enthusiastically pointing at what she was reading. They all started smiling and giggling, whispering to each other. Idia shuffled closer, as if that would let him read whatever message they had gotten. 
“Hey, everyone!” One of them said. “We’ve got a super special shout-out! This is from (Username) to… Gloomurai!” 
Idia’s heart raced as he sat up in bed, blanket draped over him. (Username), (Username)... Wait, he recognized that. That was your username! He had helped you set up your account to the MMO he played a while ago. He remembered helping you through the intro stages, stumbling over the tutorials. He had laughed at your frustrated frown as you died on the same boss for the third time. 
“Aww,” The second idol said. “This is sweet. It says, ‘Gloomurai, I thought about telling you this in person, but I wasn’t sure when that would actually be. And sometimes big feelings require big gestures. I like you, I really, really like you. I think I have for a long time. I love your smile, I love your hair, I love your brain, I love that you’re such an amazing big brother. Will you go out with me?’ Well, Gloomurai? Tell us your answer! We’re waiting on pins and needles here!” 
“Oh, wait,” The third idol said. “There’s more. It says, ‘PS, check your door.’” 
Idia yelped as he shot up, the blanket falling to a heap on the floor. Heart thundering in his chest and head starting to go fuzzy. He almost felt like he was in a daze as he walked with trepidation to his door. Slowly opening it, Idia saw a basket placed just in front. It was filled with his favorite snacks, small acrylic standees of characters from his favorite games and anime, and studded with bluebells, irises, and blue asters. A large paper heart was pinned to the front with her and his initials drawn in the middle. Hair flaring pink, he quickly brought the basket back into his room before any of his dorm mates would notice. 
He heard commotion from his phone, Premo and the chat all eagerly awaiting his response. He sent in another donation with a simple, “Yes.” The idols cheered and squealed. 
He swiped out of the livestream, opening his messaging app. (Y/N)’s name popped up with a new message, a cheering emoticon with three blue hearts. 
He subconsciously covered his face as he smiled wide, typing back, “You’re so cringe. Can’t wait for the date.” 
Silver: 
(Y/N) sprinted across campus, heading whipping around to try and catch a familiar shimmer of silver white hair. She skidded to a stop when she saw a black Diasamonia coat draped over a low tree branch, a pair of shined boots sticking out behind the trunk. 
(Y/N) rounded the old oak tree. “Silv-! Oh, sorry.” 
Silver was reclining against the tree, hands folded across his stomach, chest rising and falling with deep even breaths, eyes closed and lips slightly parted as he slept. A few songbirds and a pair of squirrels congregated around him, looking up with big eyes at the newcomer. 
(Y/N) shifted her weight from foot to foot before screwing up her courage and sitting down next to Silver. She shuffled down so she laid next to him, still leaving enough room to not cause too much of a scandal if anyone walked by. She settled down, closing her eyes and relaxing, taking in the sounds of the woodland animals around them, the talking of other students in the distance, the wind whispering through the trees. 
A short while later, she heard stirring next to her. (Y/N) blinked awake quickly, propping herself up and leaning back on her hands as Silver woke up beside her. 
“Hi,” She said. “Would  you want to go out with me?” 
Silver blinked the sleep out of his eyes, looking up at her. “I must still be dreaming,” He muttered. “If I am, then…” He reached forward, cupping the back of her head and pulling her down. She gasped as their lips brushed. Silver’s eyes suddenly shot open and he jerked back from her as if burned. “I- uh-” He studded, pale skin turning a ruby red. 
(Y/N) giggled at his embarrassment. “Well, I guess that’s a yes, right?” 
Sebek: 
“Be right back!” (Y/N) said as she suddenly stood from the first year cafeteria table. Before anyone had a chance to say anything, she was off like a shot. 
“Any idea what that was about?” Epel asked. The others shrugged. 
Grim reached over to snag half (Y/N)’s sandwich from her discarded tray. “Probably going to go ask out that boy she keeps talking about,” He said nonchalantly, mouth full. 
Sebek choked, standing fast and slamming his hands on the table so all their plates and cutlery clattered. “What!” 
“Chill, man,” Ace said, waving him down as people across the cafeteria turned to stare. Ace smirked. “Unless you’re particularly invested in (Y/N)’s love life?” 
Sebek blushed and slammed back into his seat. He picked his knife and fork back up and started sawing at his Salisbury steak. “No,” He snapped. “(Y/N) can do whatever she wants. What do I care?” 
“Sure,” Epel said. 
(Y/N) reappeared in the cafeteria a short while later, Malleus in tow. She was talking with him, gesturing with her hands. Malleus had a wide, amused smile, nodding along. 
Sebek stood again, at attention for his prince. “Good afternoon, Lord Malleus!” He said. “To what do we owe the pleasure of your presence?” He scowled at the other first years rolling their eyes at his formality. 
“Hello, Sebek. I’ve come to give my blessing.” 
“Blessing?” 
“Sebek!” (Y/N) said brightly. She took both his hands in hers as he sputtered and blushed. “I really like you. Would you go out with me?” 
For once, Sebek was speechless, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. (Y/N) squeezed his hands tighter as Malleus chuckled next to them. “Well, Sebek? It’s not polite to keep a lady waiting.” 
Life seized back into the knight. He tightened his grasp on (Y/N), pulling her closer. “Yes! Absolutely! I mean, ahem, I accept your offer of courting, since you went so far to get my lord’s blessing, after all.” 
Lilia: 
Lilia wouldn’t call what he was doing skulking, exactly. More like surprise chaperoning, keeping an eye on the youngsters of Night Raven College like a good upperclassman should. And, if he just so happened to pop out and scare the living daylights out of whatever unfortunate student happened to be nearby, well, more fun for him. 
So it wasn’t especially surprising when he heard Silver and (Y/N) talking to each other in the courtyard. As a sly smile stretched across his face, he floated to a hiding place in the shadows of the flying buttresses, resting on his stomach to kick his feet, chin resting in his hands, as he observed the two. 
“You want my permission?” Silver asked, an amused smile on his face. 
“Of course!” (Y/N) replied. “I wouldn’t want to make it weird by dating him while we’re all still students together.” 
Lilia faltered. That was the problem with spying, sometimes you heard things you didn’t want to. So the Prefect was romantically interested in someone, eh? And if they were asking Silver for permission, it must be someone close to him. Sebek, maybe? Or, oh dear, Malleus? Lilia knew for a fact that both of the boys thought of (Y/N) as a close and dear friend and nothing more. His heart panged in sympathy at the idea of rejection. And, if he was being honest with himself, it panged with something else as well. 
“You don’t think he’s a little old for you?” Silver asked teasingly. 
“Maybe I like a silver fox,” (Y/N) teased right back. 
Silver laughed. “I don’t think I ever want to hear my father described as a silver fox ever again.” 
Lilia lost his concentration, falling with a yelp against one of the chandeliers hanging in the hallway. 
“Lilia?” (Y/N) asked with a gasp. 
Lilia smiled, trying to regain poise as he floated down to them. “Looks like I’m not as slick as I used to be. Now, what were you two discussing just now?” 
(Y/N) look startled. Silver gave her shoulder a reassuring pat and left with a wave. Just the two of them now, (Y/N) took a deep breath, building up her courage. 
“Lilia!” She said, probably a little too loudly with nerves. “I really like you! Would you go out with me?” 
Lilia chuckled, leaning close to enjoy the shy and flustered look on her face. “Well, if you have my son’s blessing, how am I to refuse? Besides, I think I rather like being called a, what was it you said? A silver fox?” 
Malleus: 
Malleus looked up from his book, looking around his room for the source of the noise that disturbed his studying. There, another sharp ‘ping’ from across the room. He looked to the window, noticing a small pebble hitting the glass. He walked over and opened the window, dodging just in time to miss another pebble. 
“Oops! Sorry, Horton!” He looked down, a smile automatically crossing his face at (Y/N)’s voice. But his expression quickly changed to puzzlement as he looked down at her. (Y/N) was standing in the courtyard of the Diasomonia dorm, inside a giant heart made of dozens of tiny tea candles. 
In a swirl of green light, Malleus appeared next to her on the ground floor. She jumped a little bit at his sudden appearance, but quickly recovered herself and beamed up at him. He felt his heart flip in that pleasant way it always did when he was near her. 
“What’s all this?” 
She cleared her throat dramatically, dropping to one knee. “Dearest Horton, you have bewitched me body and soul. I would like to officially court you. Would you do me the absolute pleasure of accompanying me on a date this weekend?” 
Malleus blinked down at her for a moment, basking in the admiration and adoration filling her eyes. He laughed, reaching down to take her hand and pull her to standing. “My, how formal,” He said. 
She smiled, shrugging. “I wanted it to be memorable. Couldn’t manage the fireworks, though. Sorry.” 
“I can rectify that.” With an elegant sweep of his hand, sparks erupted from Malleus’s fingertips, shooting into the dark sky around the dorm to explode in fantastic colors. Students from in the dorm leaned out windows to admire the impromptu show. 
Malleus drew (Y/N) closer to him, admiring the multicolor flashes playing across her face. “I would adore being anywhere with you.”
342 notes · View notes
prodbymaui · 2 days ago
Text
Eunoia. — 이민형
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when it's all said and done, girl, I want you
PAIRING: mark lee x reader GENRE: unspoken feelings
WORD COUNT: 2.3k+ words
WARNINGS: finger fucking, pet names (baby, love), pool sex, exhibition kink, grinding
SYNOPSIS: it's late at night and you're yet to pull yourself out of the ocean that is your thoughts. Mark helps you out in a complexed but effective way that he knows. A/N: very self-indulgent, definitely not a scenario that came up to me in the middle of the night and stayed in my mind ever since. anyhows, enjoy reading!
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The day nears the next cyle of the moon and sun, but you remain at the pool side— music resonating from your phone as you dip your feet in the pool, drinking the night away. 
You should’ve been worn out from all the fun that you had with your friends yet for some unknown reasons, sleep doesn’t come to you easily. In result, you opt grabbing one of the unfinished bottles of vodka for yourself.
The thoughts swimming in your head must’ve drowned you, considering that you didn’t hear one of the bedroom doors opening and the footsteps walking towards. It is only when someone sits next to you that you notices their presence.
Your gaze shifts from the stars to the man on your right— Mark. Your breath hitches for a moment. The messy hair and a plain white shirt paired with the dopey smile on his face is enough for you to fall in to another trance.
“What got you out here having fun all by yourself?” Mark tilts his head in question, to which you let out a soft laugh.
“Is drinking alone fun now?”
“I suppose.. ? It looks fun for me.”
Merely replying with a smile, silence engulfs the both of you. And as if on cue, your mind boggles you over trivial things once again, just like what it does since you were young.
Mark passes you a brief glance, then to the music playing on your phone.
Thoughts
Sometimes, I just can't control my thoughts
No medication's ever made them stop
All I think about is everything I'm not
Instead of everything I got
He sighs, biting his lips as he contemplates on what to do.
And it’s not Mark if he chooses the complexed but effective way.
The bubble of your thoughts pop when the water splashes at you suddenly. Surprised, you look over to Mark who’s swimming his way towards where you are seated. Just right before you, Mark comes up from the water, brushing his black undercut hair back.
His eyes meet yours. “Hi,”
“Hello,” You grin, sipping your vodka.
He walks a little bit more closer, enough for his chest to make contact with your knees. Mark smiles again, resting his hands on your knees.
“Hi,” He repeats softly.
You can’t help but chuckle. “Hello Mark,”
What is this man doing? The voices in your head asks.
“Come swim with me?”
You glance at the rippling water illuminated faintly by the moon, then back at him, standing waist-deep with a boyish grin that doesn’t quite match the hour. 
“Pass, I’m just waiting for sleep to take over my body. Besides,  you shouldn’t be swimming this late at night, Mark. You’ll catch a cold.”
Mark exhales dramatically, a mix of exasperation and amusement, before swishing the water toward you in a playful splash. It doesn’t reach, but the gesture draws a reluctant grin from you.
“Loosen up a little,” He says, his voice warm, almost teasing. “Who cares about catching a cold if it means having a bit of fun?”
You’re not quite sure how it happens. You remember saying no—firmly, even—but now the cool water laps at your legs, rising steadily until it reaches your waist. Mark’s hand is warm and steady in yours, his grip pulling you further into the pool, toward the deeper end.
“Mark,” you warn, your voice low, your fingers tightening instinctively around his. It’s not fear—nothing as dramatic as that. You can swim perfectly well, and the depth of the water doesn’t intimidate you. It’s just…this wasn’t supposed to be on your list for tonight.
He slows, catching the hesitation written across your face. Without a word, he stops walking, the two of you now floating in the very center of the pool. The stillness around you is palpable, broken only by the faint ripples you’ve created together.
Mark’s gaze softens as it finds yours, studying your expression carefully, reading the unspoken. Then, with a quiet assurance, he slides his arm around your waist, pulling you just a little closer.
“I’ve got you,” he says, the words low but firm, steadying you in a way that feels more solid than the water ever could.
You sigh, taking in the comfort of the moon and starts hovering above the both of you, and the comfort of Mark’s arm around you.
“What do you think Yeonjun and Wooyoung’s reaction will be if they see us like this?”
“The teasings, oh god,” The mere thought of the two troublemakers’ reactions is already enough to make Mark sigh in exasperation. 
He can practically hear their voices now—the teasing tone, the exaggerated laughter. They’ve been relentless lately, poking fun at the “odd vibe,” as they like to call it, between the two of you. Their wild imaginations have taken your every interaction and spun it into something far more dramatic, their assumptions as colorful as they are persistent.
You laugh at his response, sliding your arms to rest on his shoulders. “Why do you think they tease us so much?” Mark’s chuckle fades, leaving a quiet tension in its place. The water sways around you both, but all you can focus on is how his gaze has softened—more intent now, as if he’s waiting for something.
“They think there’s something between us,” he says, his voice dropping just enough to make the words feel weightier. His hands linger at your waist, his touch steady yet hesitant, like he’s holding back.
You swallow, your laugh from earlier now a distant echo. “And… do you think they’re right?” you ask, surprising yourself with the boldness in your voice.
Mark’s lips twitch, but it’s not quite a smile. “Sometimes,” he admits, barely above a murmur. “It’s hard not to when they keep planting the idea in my head.”
You feel a faint warmth rising in your cheeks, though you’re not sure if it’s from his words or the way his thumb grazes your side absentmindedly. “And what does that idea look like to you?”
The shift in his expression is subtle, but it’s enough to make your heart stutter. There’s something deeper in his eyes now, something that makes the air between you feel almost fragile.
“Do you want me to show you?” he asks quietly, his voice low and steady, but there’s an edge to it—a flicker of vulnerability he can’t quite hide.
The moment stretches, the world outside the pool fading to nothing. It’s just you, Mark, and the unspoken tension swirling between you, like the water lapping at your skin.
Whether it’s you or Mark who closes the distance first doesn’t matter. All that matters now is the way his lips meet yours—soft and deliberate, moving in a rhythm that feels as though it’s been waiting to happen. The kiss deepens naturally, a slow, intoxicating exchange that carries the urgency of something long denied.
Mark’s hand slides to the back of your head, his fingers threading gently through your hair as though anchoring you to the moment. His grip is firm but careful, a silent assurance that he won’t let go. When he feels you lean further into him, your movements mirroring his, something shifts.
With surprising ease, Mark’s other hand slips beneath your legs, lifting you as though you weigh nothing. Your legs instinctively wrap around his waist, securing yourself against him. The movement presses your bodies closer, the water rippling around you in lazy waves.
You can feel his breath against your skin, warm and uneven, his lips trailing softly before returning to yours. The press of his body is undeniable, a tension simmering beneath the surface, but the way he holds you—steady, deliberate—grounds the moment in something more than just desire.
Mark pulls away, breathing heavily. “I know it’s late but tell me to stop. Tell me you don’t want any of this and I’ll pretend none of this happened tomorrow.”
Nonsense. You don’t even know what got him thinking like that when you’re already on cloud nine just by his kisses.
“Don’t stop,” You whisper against his ear before connecting your lips with his once again.
As your tongue fights and clashes with one another, you gasp at the feeling of Mark’s palm cupping your core. The water surrounds every part of your lower body but Mark could still feel the slimy texture of your juices on his skin.
His fingers slides along your labia, letting it explore and feel your warmth. The soothing movements of his pads strays away from your focus as Mark’s kisses travels down to your neck. Tracing your skin with his tongue, Mark licks a stripe straight to where your neck and collarbone meets. You gasp as he gives it a little kiss before sucking the skin, at the same time he enters a digit inside you.
“Mark..”
He shushes your noises yet his fingers serves absolutely nothing to help you do so. Not long after you’ve gotten used to his single digit, he enter another after another, curling them inside. Your head lols back, trapping your bottom lips between your lips.
Turning the both of you around, Mark carries your weight one arm while the other busies itself pumping inside you. In a few steps backwards, your back hits the wall of the pool causing Mark’s fingers to be buried deeper inside. Your hands fly to grab something as a leverage, eventually finding his flexing arms. The cold breeze brushing against your skin reminds you that you’re not in the privacy of your bedroom or any private space right now. And Mark uses it to his advantage, seemingly knowing well what you like despite this being the first time that he’s having a taste of you. “Haechan was awake when I left the boys’ room, you know?” he murmurs, his tone low and teasing as he tucks a stray strand of hair behind your ear. His lips brush against your cheek in a series of soft, fleeting pecks, his warmth lingering with each one. “He was mumbling something about wanting a snack but being too lazy to actually get up. You know how crazy that man is about his snacks, babe.”
His voice drops to a playful whisper. “What if he decides to come out? Imagine him catching us like this—you trembling in my arms, eyes fluttering shut, your hips jerking against me like you’re trying so hard to keep quiet. One look at your hips, and he’d know exactly what’s happening, no questions asked.”
You curses at the thought of being caught. And Mark laughs. Because he knows damn well it’s not due to embarrassment nor fear. The clench of your walls on his fingers tells him so. “Wouldn’t you like that, babe? I think you would,” Curling his fingers upwards, your eyes rolls to the back of your head. “Look at you getting close at the thought of it. I wonder what’ll be his reaction.”
“Mark please,” You plead, not even knowing for what reason. “Please? I don’t know even know what you want, love.” It’s frustrating how the brutal pace of his thrusting fingers contrasts the soft and loving tone of his voice. It messes your head and inside both at the same time. “Please please, Mark—” Your eyes catches his sharp gaze in a hazy film, barely even able to open your lids to maintain eye contact. “Fuck– haah, I’m gonna come.” “Yeah?” Mark pulls you impossibly closer, grinding his prominent boner on any accessible part of you that he can reaches by merely moving his hips. “I’m gon– I wanna cum, I’m gonna cum. Shit, Mark please, baby,” You desperately cling on to him, meeting his fingers halfway as you try your best to fasten the pace despite the restrain from the water. Mark groans, silently wishing it is his cock you’re clenching around so tightly right now. How good it must feel to your warm walls massaging his length, tightening on him just right, milking him dry until he’s nothing left but an empty vessel of a man obsessed with you and your body. He presses your bodies to the wall as he grinds harder and faster, matching your pace. “Do it. Come for me,” He whispers your name in an encouraging manner. And you did just as he orders. Failing to keep your eyes open, your eyes shut close as your mouth forms a circular shape. The pleasure comes to you crashing down. Mark doesn’t know what kind of hold you have on him but he’s certain it is no way near surface level when he reaches his own climax just by watching you come undone in his arms. The look of you embracing the pleasure he offered is enough to send him off the edge. You nuzzle your face in the crook of his neck, your ragged breaths mingling with his as you try to steady yourself. The aftershocks still linger, leaving your body heavy and your mind hazy, but the comforting rise and fall of his chest anchors you. Both of you silently agree to stay like this for a moment, letting the sound of the pool water gently lapping around you fill the quiet. It feels like time has paused, a brief reprieve from everything outside this bubble of warmth.
But fate, as always, has other plans.
A slow, deliberate clap breaks the stillness, immediately snapping your attention toward its source. The sound is followed by a low whistle that cuts through the air like a taunt.
“Well, that was one hell of a show,” comes the familiar voice, dripping with mock amusement.
Your head snaps up, and there he is—Haechan, leaning casually against the doorframe of the boys’ room, arms crossed and that trademark cocky smirk plastered across his face. His expression, equal parts smug and entertained, makes your stomach drop.
254 notes · View notes
miabebe · 3 days ago
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Camp Seventeen: Chapter 4
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Pairing - Afab!reader x ot13
Word count - 17.5K
Genre - Greek Demigod AU! We’ve got crack, smut, fluff , angst, hurt, comfort, all of it in this series, buckle up! Warnings below the cut
Previous chapter
Chapter summary - As many truths come forth, life on camp as you know it begins to change. After living a life which was never your choice, you now had to choose between family and love. But more importantly, would they choose you?
A/n - I do have a taglist so comment on this post to be added! This is yet another heavy chapter, I tried to put as much as I could to make up for all the time this took :( I'm so sorry and I hope you have fun reading <3
Thanks again to the loml @monamipencil for all the time she so sweetly takes out for me T.T
Warnings - as usual, to be added after a week.
“Please….” 
It was the only thing ringing in your head, your fingers tightening their grip in Seungcheol’s dark mane as his mouth refused to leave yours, like it was the only thing keeping him alive. 
Why now? What changed? 
The thought ran in the back of your mind as Seungcheol let out a soft groan, his teeth sinking into your lower lip as he pulled back just a little, just enough to breathe but you lurched for his mouth again. It didn’t matter why, all that mattered was that this was finally happening and you didn’t want it to stop. 
Mirroring your desperation, he sat you on the hood of his car, freeing his hands to push the hair away from your face and hold it surprisingly delicately, like he couldn’t believe he was really kissing you. It felt like he was conflicted between wanting to look at you and wanting to devour you but when you wrapped your legs around his waist, he chose the latter. 
At least it seemed like it until your hand slipped between your bodies, reaching for the button of his pants and Seungcheol pulled back with a jerk, like he had been electrocuted. 
“Oh…” You drew your hands back quickly. “I thought you wanted to….” 
“I uh…” He looked around, pushing his hair back. “Y/n, we are out in the open…” 
Yeah but in the middle of fucking nowhere, with not a soul in sight. 
But of course. 
It wasn’t the location that was the problem, it was him. You should have seen this coming, you should have known that with every step Seungcheol took forward, he took two back. 
Scoffing, you slid off the car, tucking your hair behind your ears, trying not to let how disappointed you were show on your face. Seungcheol glanced at you, gulping audibly. 
“Y/n I…” 
“I don’t even know why I keep falling for this-” 
“Please…” 
“What does that word even mean anymore Seungcheol?” You raised your hands in defeat, ready to walk away. “I don’t want to know, I don’t want to hear it-”
Grabbing the back of your neck, Seungcheol pulled you up against him again, mouth hot on yours. When you tried to push him away, he didn’t let go, pressing his forehead against yours, breathing in all that tension between the two of you. 
“Let me go.” You tried to free yourself. “Choi Seungcheol-” 
“I don’t think you can even begin to fathom just how much I want you…. how much I want this.” He groaned. “I didn’t think I’d ever get to hold you like this.” 
You frowned, pulling back. “Why, because of the force field?” 
Seungcheol shook his head, “No- I mean yeah, that was one reason, I still don’t know you’re unaffected but thank heavens-” He looked at you intently. “- staying away from you has been excruciatingly painful.” 
“Then why?” You wrapped your hands around his wrists, hoping he wouldn’t let go like always. “Why are you staying away from me Cheol? Why can’t we-” 
“Do you want this?” He whispered like he was unsure and you blinked at him, just a little surprised. “Right here, right now, do you-” 
“Choi Seungcheol, for a man this big, your brain really is the size of a pea.” Rolling your eyes, you shook your head. “I’ve wanted this since the moment I set foot in camp and my eyes on you-” 
“Then fuck everything else,” With a swift movement he spun you around, the shriek of surprise lost in your throat, your palms finding the hood of the car. Seungcheol did not wait for you to even process what was happening - pushing your hair over your shoulder, his hands quickly worked the strings of your armor behind, mouth by your ear. “I want you and I don’t care who’s watching.” 
Before you can ask him who the fuck could possibly be watching the two of you, he let out what seemed to be a frustrated groan at the complexity of the lace. You were just about to undo it yourself when he reached for the dagger strapped to your waist and with a swift movement, ran it across the strings, slicing them open. 
“Cheol what-” You whined. “How am I supposed to wear this again?” 
“Armour is for protection.” He slid the bronze plates off your torso, dropping them to the ground as you turned to face him again. “And that’s what I’m here for. I got you.” 
Grinning, you grabbed its twin blade and mirrored his actions, undoing the knotted strings on his shoulders, freeing him of his gear. Taking a momentary step back, the two of you quickly got rid of the various metallic appendages and weapons lodged everywhere, dropping them onto the forest floor and you were barely done when Seungcheol pulled you towards him, kissing you again. 
It was different now, slower, deeper, more relieved but somehow more electrifying - you could feel your boobs up against the hard muscles of his chest, his fingers found the sliver of skin between your top and pants, pressing into it and your hands gripped around his biceps, nails digging in.
For some reason you suddenly realised, that though in the last 3 days you had been with 3 different men, Seungcheol was the first one that it genuinely felt intimate with, the first one you had even kissed, nevermind with such passion. And god did you want to keep kissing him but the memory of Dionysus's dildo ran in your mind and hell could empty all its devils here and you wouldn't care. You just wanted him deep inside you. 
This time, when your hand found the button of his pants again, Seungcheol didn’t stop you, moaning into your mouth instead. Just as you unzipped it, he quickly slid them off, the fabric pooling at his feet and your hands moved to their next target, his shirt. 
“Wanna see you too.” He kissed you along your jawline, playing with the hem of your shirt. 
You laughed softly, working the buttons, “Then take it off.” 
“Then I'll have to stop this.” He continued the trail of kisses down to your neck. “And I don't want to.” 
Smiling to yourself you undid the last button, pushing the fabric aside, thanking the universe that today Seungcheol went commando in his pants. As his lips found your shoulder, your eyes caught Seungcheol’s dick, already familiar with exactly how it looked but the real one was so much better. He was unbearably hard, hissing when you wrapped your hand around the base.
“Better than you imagined?” He sounded cocky when you began stroking his length, letting out a soft sigh. 
“What makes you think I imagined it?”  
Seungcheol chuckled. “Baby, there's only a wall between our rooms which mind you, is really thin. I've heard you take my name before.”
You froze as his hands gripped your waist tighter. 
“Faster cheol, harder cheol, Right there cheol…. I heard it all.” 
Okay yeah, there were days you had indeed slid your fingers in and out, imagining it was him ravaging you but why didn't your stupid ass ever doubt if he could hear it??
‘You sounded like I was doing a good job.” He smiled against your skin. 
“You mean I was doing a job.” 
Getting yourself off was not new to you. You didn't really have any boyfriends but the handful of people you had slept with in your life were disappointing to say the least, devastatingly incapable of making you feel any pleasure. Of course after Soonyoung revealed that demigods could not be satisfied by mortals, it made sense why your own hands and toys were the only ones that could make you cum. You had to admit though, getting off to the thought of Seungcheol fucking you into his large white bed gave you some of the best orgasms you ever had. He didn't need to know that. The way he was smiling at the memory of you moaning his name had inflated his ego enough. 
“Oh you were doing a good job?” He detached his mouth from you at last, drawing back, eyes scouring your face. “Why don't you let me see this time?” 
As he kicked his pants off and took a step back then another, you looked at him in disbelief. 
“You want me to imagine you fucking me when you're standing right in front of me-” You ran your eyes down his body covered only by his shirt hanging off his shoulders. “-looking like that?” 
Seungcheol nodded. “Lean against the car and spread your legs for me baby.” 
“Cheol-” 
“Do it Y/n.”
“But-”
“That's a command soldier.’ 
This asshole. Of course Choi Seungcheol made use of hierarchy during sex. 
“Yes Chief.” 
Rolling your eyes you pulled your pants down your legs, tossing them to join your gear on the forest floor. Your panties were slick with arousal, uncomfortably sticking to you, the dark wet spot only getting larger. Eyes flickering down between your legs, Seungcheol clasped his hands behind his back standing at ease, the way he did when he oversaw morning training. 
“So you're just going to watch?” You licked your drying lips. “Are you not even going to touch yourself?” 
If you did, it was only fair that he did too.
But Seungcheol shook his head. “I'm yours to do whatever.” 
God did you want to throw your arms around him and pull him into another kiss but he seemed so damn insistent that you put on a show. Fine, if that's what he wants, you'll give it to him. 
You ran your fingers over your wet panties, sighing at the way a sudden jolt ran down your body when they grazed your clit. You were only just about to push the fabric to the side and slide your fingers into your pretty wet hole when you felt a familiar twist in the pits of your stomach. Surprised, you found yourself almost buckling forward, hands quickly gripped the car behind you trying to find balance as the coil tightened, building the feeling inside. Legs shaking, you attempted to squeeze them and chase the feeling when in a flash Seungcheol was inches away from you, his hand holding your legs apart, shaking his head. 
Shutting your eyes, you threw your head back, your entire being almost convulsing as your organsm hit you hard and you came with a not so soft moan. 
As you tried to catch the breath you hadn't taken all this while, Seungcheol leaned closed, whispering in your ear. 
“Still think it was you who did a good job?” 
Eyes widening, you looked at him, lips parted in shock. 
“You mean that was… that you…” 
Seungcheol chuckled, moving his hand closer to your core, letting his fingers graze your even more wet panties. 
“An orgasm is caused by nerves and nerves carry electric impulses.” Given your frown, he continued. “I'm the Son of Zeus, anything with electric tendencies is under my control.” 
That meant all those days, sitting on the other side of the wall, Seungcheol had made you cum untouched. 
‘Did that feel good?” He whispered as your breath slowly came back to normal, his hand pushing the fabric of your underwear, his finger running between your folds, feeling how wet you were. “Looks like it did.” 
You nodded slowly. 
“Now it's my turn.” And without a warning, he slipped two fingers into your hole, as your hands flew to grip his biceps. “but I'll need to prep you first baby.”
Oh you knew.
While his fingers pumped in and out of you, you pulled Seungcheol closer by the collar of his shirt, kissing him, hands trailing up into his thick hair. You didn't know obscenely kissing someone like this out in the open while his fingers stretched you open could feel this arousing. You didn't think it could get any better until Seungcheol broke away, whispering into your ear, “I'm going to fuck you now.”
A shudder ran down your body and a shriek left your mouth as Seungcheol spun you around once again, your palms finding the hood of the car the balance over but this time, you could feel his erection against your ass. Wasting no time, he lined his tip against your hole, slowly sinking in, both of your moans matching with the same relief, the same arousal. Choi Seungcheol was fucking you at last. 
Pushing all the way till the hilt, Seungcheol pulled back, gripping your wrist tight but thrusting into you slowly. You couldn't tell if he was being gentle or savoring it - you just needed him up in your guts. 
“Cheol.” You breathed, making him lean over to hear you. “Didn't you hear me in your house? I like hard and fast.” 
Chuckling, Seungcheol picked up the pace, snapping his hip into yours, the impact surely bruising where your skin grazed the car. You could tell he was still controlling himself, holding back like he was afraid of breaking you. 
“And rough.” You added and that seemed to do the trick. 
Letting out a groan, his hand immediately found the nape of your neck, pushing you down onto the hood, devoid of all the prior gentleness. Despite your whole upper body being pressed against cold metal, you smiled to yourself and as if he could not get enough, Seungcheol gathered both your wrists with his free hand and pinned them to your lower back, fucking you like an animal in the jungle. 
Hell yes. God yes you wanted this and the way he felt was so much better than you thought, his dick eventually finding all the right spots, making you feel so full of him. Oh you couldn't wait to have him fill you but before that, you felt your orgasm approaching, everything in your stomach tightening again. 
“Fuck, I'm….” You struggled to speak with the way your cheek was pressed against the hood. “I…”
Sliding his hand from the nape to wrap your neck, Seungcheol pulled you back up against him, hips not stopping their thrusts even for a moment. 
“What is it baby? Gonna cum for me?” 
You nodded, feeling your walls fluttering around his length, hands desperately trying to hold on to anything.
“Good girl.” He whispered, bringing the hand on your waist to your clit and almost instantly you could feel yourself coming, tightening around him like a vice. 
“That's it.” Seungcheol groaned, slowing down his pace as your walls clamped around him. “That's it baby, you did so good.” 
“Cheol….” You whispered, finding your breath again, barely down from your high, legs still trembling. “I wanna feel full of you.” 
Clearly he was just as desperate to come inside you because all of a sudden, the man who seemed like he had unending stamina was losing his rhythm. You tightened your walls around him, squeezing his length when it was deep inside you, arching your back to help him reach further in. He had just about given you what you were dying to have when out of no fucking where, you heard Jeonghan saying Seungcheol’s name. 
The latter instantly halted his actions, looking around just as panicked as you until the call of his name again made him realise where it was coming from. The looking glass. 
Whispering a sorry against your ear, Seungcheol pulled out slowly, leaving you unclenching around  nothing as you felt your arousal leak down your thigh filthily. 
What the hell?? 
Seungcheol rummaged through the discarded gear, pulling his looking glass, being careful to show only his face given neck down, he was an absolute mess. 
“Han.” 
“Cheol, what's your status quo?”
Groaning you pulled your panties back into place. Evidently this was not going to be a short conversation.
“We uh, just reached the forest.” 
“Just? Shouldn't you have reached an hour ago?” 
Seungcheol looked at you guiltily but continued nevertheless. “Y/n messed up reading the map so we had to take a longer route.” 
You raised your eyebrows. Oh, he was playing dirty. Then you could too. 
Walking up to him, you dropped to your knees, taking Seungcheol’s pretty cock in your hands, his eyes widening. On the other hand Jeonghan, oblivious to it all, went on. 
“Okay, Jihoon and Hansol scoured their woods already, there's no traces of the monster there. Negative for Joshua and I too. We haven't heard from Seokmin and Chan though, I assume Min's pegasus is giving him a tough time. What about you?” 
You had no idea if Seungcheol was listening to him or pretending to, because all this while, you had been very silently and very skillfully,  sucking his dick. 
“Cheol?” 
“Yeah.” He tore his eyes away from you with much difficulty, turning to his friend. “I uh… I don't know yet, I mean, we haven't tried to track it yet, w-we just r-reached.” 
You smiled at his stuttering words, knowing he was close. 
“Okay but be careful. My gut feeling is that it's in the Nyx forest. What better place for a monster to thrive right?” 
“Fuck-” Cheol muttered as your teeth grazed him accidently, as you quickly pulled back, looking apologetic. 
“Cheol, is everything okay?” 
“Yeah just Y/n ....almost fell.” He gulped, turning to Jeonghan. “Yeah I got it, we'll be careful and I'll let you know if there's any developments.” 
“Alright and-” 
Before he could complete, Seungcheol tossed the glass onto the gear pile and gripped your chin, holding it as he pushed his length further into your mouth. 
“What a brat.” He groaned, feeling his tip hit the back of your throat. “What if Jeonghan found out?”
You couldn't care less. All you cared about was how deep could you possibly take Seungcheol, relaxing your throat as he pushed in. 
“F-fuck.” He muttered, quickly pulling out, jerking off his length. “Open wide.” 
And you did, sticking your tongue out just in time to feel spurts of his cum coat it messily, spilling onto your lips and out of the corner of your mouth. 
Without waiting for you to swallow, Seungcheol pulled you up to your feet, kissing you again, unbothered about tasting himself. 
“I'll get you some water.” He dropped a kiss on your forehead before quickly going to the car and reaching for the bottle. As you drank, mouth and throat dry and sore, Seungcheol hurriedly began buttoning his shirt again. 
Wait, that's it? 
“Cheol.” He glanced at you questioningly. “What are you…” 
“Jeonghan thinks the Chimaera is most definitely here.” He held your pants out by your feet, prompting you to put your feet in. You complied, still confused. “We should try to track it as soon as possible.” 
“Seungcheol we just….” You sighed, dropping the bottle on the forest floor. “We just had sex after days of behaving like we cannot bear each other, don't you think we need to talk?” 
“We do.” He nodded seriously, doing your button. “And we will. Just not now, at the right time-” 
“What right time?!” You stepped away from him, anger coursing through you. “After leaving me confused for days, after fucking me in the middle of nowhere, you don't think I deserve an explanation?” 
“You do Y/n and I will tell you everything but we just need to find the monster first. It's dangerous-” 
“Did you not realise that when you had your dick inside me??” You looked at him incredulously. “How is that we had the time to have sex, but not to have a discussion-”
“Enough.” Seungcheol’s voice was hard and urgent. ‘I cannot keep repeating the same thing again Y/n. Yes, you deserve an explanation and yes we will talk, just. not. now. Now, we need to find the monster.” 
“But Cheol-” 
“Y/n stop.”
“I just want to-” 
“That's a command, soldier.” 
Taken aback you blinked at him, processing his words.  
“Yes chief.” 
And with that you turned and walked away into the woods, ignoring his voice calling out to you and letting the darkness of the forest consume you.
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You had no idea how long or how deep into the forest you had ventured - you just needed to get away from Seungcheol as soon as possible. You knew he would have followed if he had managed to get his pants on in time but you had disappeared into the darkness before he could. In hindsight maybe that wasn't the best idea because the forest was barely visible despite your extremely sharp eyesight, and though you had your energy reader on you, hanging around your neck, you couldn't use it. You didn't feel warmth. 
“This isn't the kind of forest you roam alone in, sweet summer child.”
Holding back a shriek you turned around, shocked by a presence in this dark forest. All you could see was the silhouette of a tall lanky man, leaning against the thick trunk of a tree, only half his face illuminated by the small fire burning by his feet. His features looked royal, as though even without the light, he'd still shine all the same. You couldn’t see his eyes though - they were hidden behind black sunglasses which seemed rather unnecessary given the surroundings. The theme of black continued in his attire - a soft black fur jacket thrown over a black shirt and black slacks, accents of white, green and gold, littered all over. The most noticeable thing about him was perhaps his hair - streaks of red and grey in spiky black hair. Strangely he looked both old and young at the same time, almost timeless. 
“You’re alone.” You pointed out. 
“I’m an adult.”
“More like ancient.” You muttered to yourself but the man seemed to have heard it somehow. 
“Ancient?” He chuckled. “I suppose I should be offended but that's an understatement.” 
You frowned, not quite understanding. 
“Don't rack your brain sweetheart. I've already figured out that you're not too bright considering, you know, the little show you put up earlier.”
You felt your jaw hang, cheeks burning up. What the fuck- 
“And before you ask, ew no, I wasn't watching - I'd rather burn in Tartarus than watch that tragedy.” He rolled his eyes, looking disgusted. “But this is Nyx's forest and everything here talks….”
A whole damn forest was watching you and Seungcheol have sex?? You wanted to throw up, throw a fit and throw something at this man, all at once. Overwhelmed by everything, you held your head, trying to sort out the overload of information.
“First of all, who the hell are you…..” 
“Goodness be damned, you're really dumber than I thought.” He walked up, closer to the fire, his features much more clear in the light. “I’m what you’re looking for.” 
You looked him up and down. 
“I’m not looking for a boomer with a fashion crisis.” 
The man burst out laughing, looking away, shoulders shaking. “You’re funny darling, not everyone can joke in the face of danger.” 
“I’m not joking.” You rolled your eyes. “And clearly, you’re not dangerous. If you were, you wouldn’t be wasting your time with a conversation, darling.” 
He smiled. 
“The conversation is courtesy of the fact that you are also what I am looking for.” Taking a step forward, he inched closer. “I'm Chimaera.” 
You blinked at him once. 
Then twice.
Then snickered. 
What bullshit. 
You had read up about the monster on your way here - it was supposedly a weird mix of a lion, a goat and a snake that also happened to breathe fire. This… this was a man? And a man who was clearly fooling you for whatever reason.
“Oh yeah?” You crossed your arms. “Then I'm actually Zeus, King of the Gods-”
“I forget how little you know about this world sweetheart.” He scoffed, taking the glasses off and tucking them inside his jacket. 
You felt your whole body freeze. His eyes….they had slits, like a snake. 
“Did you really think I could live amongst mortals looking like a genetic experiment gone catastrophically wrong? Obviously I have a human form.” 
You hesitated, gulping, realising that regardless of whether this man was indeed the Chimaera, you, like an idiot, were both unarmed and unprotected. 
“What? Still don’t believe me?” He cocked his head. “Oh sweetheart.” 
He waved his hand and the flames of the campfire rose, dancing and wrapping around him. You watched as he smiled at you, the fire not leaving a single mark on his skin, as though it didn’t burn him at all. Finally, the glowing bright orange ran up his neck and disappeared into his mouth. 
The fire breather. You took a step back and then another. Fuck, fuck, fuck- 
“Don't tell me you're also stupid enough to run.” He clicked his tongue. “You may be powerful but you’re no match for me. Besides,” He walked up, taking the help of a dapper looking walking stick that seemed to have appeared out of nowhere. “I only want to talk.” 
“W-with me?” You stuttered. “About what?” 
“Do you really not know?” 
You did. A tiny voice in your head spoke for you - Fire. 
Your fire. He knew about it. 
“How do you know?” 
“Why wouldn’t I know darling?” He smiled at you in a way that was both sweet and sinister. “Daddy knows everything.” 
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
“That didn’t come out right.” He pinched the bridge of his nose as you looked at him with a mix of confusion, fear and disgust. “What I meant is, I know your fire because it’s mine Y/n….. I’m your father.”
Somewhere far off, thunder rumbled across the sky, filling the silence. There was a storm coming but it was no match for the one already going on inside you. The time for humour was over.
You had already been on the edge of tolerance with Hestia ignoring you all these days and now, to hear such a vile joke about your parentage from a monster was just plain evil. You knew Jeonghan said you weren’t to face the creature on your own but god were you ready to annihilate it. 
“Shut up.” You spoke between gritted teeth. “I don’t know what you’re trying to do but-” 
“You don’t believe me.” The Chimaera chuckled. “Sit down Y/n, you are in terrible need of a crash course.” 
“What do you mean?” 
“Sit.” 
“No.” You crossed your arms, repeating your question. “What, do you mean?” 
The man sighed, leaning against a nearby tree. 
“Did you think gods are the only ones who can mate with mortals?” He shook his head. “Monsters can too, darling. In fact, most mortals are our children.” 
You felt a chill run down your spine. 
“Of course unlike you god spawn they don’t carry our powers but our nature? Oh the desire to wreak havoc, to cause chaos, they do inherit that. Every thief, every killer, every arsonist,” He smiled at you but it didn’t reach his eyes. “They’re all our offspring.” 
The flames of the campfire rose higher, burning brighter, drawing out a memory you had been trying your best to forget. 
“I cannot be your child.” You muttered, heart racing in your chest. “That’s not possible…” 
“Is it that difficult to believe?” He raised an eyebrow. “You could always tell you were different. You never felt like you belonged. Your powers, they’re unlike the others, so brilliant.” His eyes gleamed. “It’s because you’re mine.” 
You felt your guts twist. A half monster. That’s what he was calling you. 
“Look at us Y/n.” He stuck his hand out, the flames coming to life in his hand. “Look at me and tell me we aren’t the same-” 
“No we’re not.” You looked at him defiantly. “I may be hostile and unwelcoming and guarded and a lot of other things but I’m not a bad person….. I’m not evil.” 
“Really?” He chuckled. “Are you trying to convince me or yourself?” 
You glared at him. 
“Denying the truth and suppressing the memories - they won’t change what happened Y/n.” He stepped forward, the slits in his eyes narrowing. “They won’t change the fact that you almost killed someone.” 
No.
No. 
No. 
“And not just anyone, a five year old child, a child a family entrusted you to look after.”
“Enough.” You spoke between gritted teeth. 
“All because he spoke a few harsh truths to your face-” 
“I said enough.” 
But he didn’t stop. 
“You got so angry, you unleashed your powers, burnt down the house and nearly killed that child.” 
“That’s not true-” 
“But it is!” He snarled, raising his voice as the fire around him rose to life, crawling towards you on the forest floor. The amusement in his voice was replaced with something darker, something more menacing. “If the firefighters hadn’t come on time, that child would have died…. All because you didn’t like what he said.” 
“He said I deserved to be alone!” You finally snapped, something hot searing through your veins. “He said my parents abandoned me because I was not good enough for them!” 
The memory finally flashed in your head again, fresh as day. 
For almost a year now, you had been taking on a side job of babysitting kids for rich parents who needed to get away for their late night dates and parties. Usually it was a piece of cake - most kids were already tired from playing the whole day so all you had to do was ensure they finished their food and went to sleep. After that you simply worked on your assignments or flipped through the book collections on the shelves or the channels on the tv, waiting to be relieved of your duties. 
It was just another night like that, another rich family, another big house in the suburb but this time, it was the most uncooperative child you had ever encountered. You had a buttload of work to do that day, your pencils and papers scattered all over the dining table once that little devil had gone to his room to sleep but for some fucking reason, he kept waking up. You could tell he was spoilt, demanding to eat candy at freaking 10pm, secretly drinking soft drinks from the fridge, throwing his toys all over. You had been patient with him for a long time, much beyond your capacity really but when he spilled a bottle full of sauce on a project you had spent hours working on, you raised your voice. 
You expected him to cry and that you’d have to apologise, calm him and put him to sleep, instead, he sneered at you.
He simply shrugged and asked why you were being such a pain in the ass. As though it wasn’t shocking enough to hear such a statement from a child, he went on to ask how your parents handled someone as uptight as you. When you retorted that you didn’t have any parents, he said two words that still haunted you - “No wonder.”
By now you had already reached your limit but when he added that they must have left you because you were so insufferable, something inside you snapped. One minute you were the angriest you had ever been and in the next, there was fire and screams everywhere. 
His cries rang in your ears as you shut them hard trying to block it. The Chimaera’s snickers were what took over instead. 
“Stop trying to run away from what you did-” 
“That was an accident.” You shook your head hard. “That wasn’t on purpose, I didn’t want to hurt him-” 
“Is it?” He raised an eyebrow. “Then why does no one in your precious camp know this story Y/n? The parents sued you, you spent a few nights in jail for arson, in a few days time you are to appear in front of a jury to plead your case yet your lawyer doesn't know a thing that happened - no one can figure out how the fire started and you won’t tell them. You don’t want to tell them because that would mean admitting that you’re different, that you’re not one of them, that you always were and are a loner.” 
You wanted to deny it, just like when Wonwoo was exposing you like this. You wanted to scream and shout and tell this horrible creature it was wrong but words couldn’t leave your mouth - in the face of truth, one often fell silent. 
“But you don’t have to be alone Y/n.” The Chimaera stepped forward, his demeanor suddenly switching from accusatory to sympathetic. “From the moment I sensed your power that night, I’ve been looking for you. I’ve been trying to meet you and tell you who you, to bring you home, where you belong-” 
“You….” You looked at him, lips parting in surprise. “You want to take me home?” 
He nodded. “The mortals are anyways too unworthy to understand your power but so are the demigods. Even if you are half god, the fact that you are half monster is all they will see. With them, you’ll always have to hide but with us? You’ll be free. Free to be yourself, free to unleash your powers, free to be unafraid.” 
Your mouth moved but no words left you. 
“Tell me anything but that you’re thinking about the Son of Zeus.” He narrowed his eyes. “That you’ve set your heart on him.”
Stuttering, you looked away. “I..I’m….”
“You mortals and your love,” He rolled his eyes. “The man because of whom you’re so hesitant, do you think he’ll accept you once he learns what you really are? He brought you to his camp to save you from danger but what do you think will happen when he learns that you in fact are the real danger? Do you think he’ll choose you over his boys?” 
You let out a shaky breath as he neared, the flames following him. 
“Come with me Y/n, let’s go to Tartarus, to our family. To those who will truly love and accept you.” You could smell the fire as he stood inches away from you. “All these part-mortals will die one day, will leave you behind, but we won’t. We’ll always be there for you.”
“What do you mean?” 
“Monsters are immortal too Y/n, we never die.” He smiled as the flames encircled you fully and strangely, you could feel the warmth of it. “Killing a monster simply means weakening us and sending us back to Tartarus, our realm. It’s only a matter of time before we gain our strength and come back to the human world. You can never truly kill a monster.”
A family forever. A home forever. That’s what he was offering you. What you had been looking for your whole life. 
“So come with me Y/n.” He held his hand out. “Come where you truly belong-”
“Y/n!” 
You turned at the sound of a frantic voice, spotting Seungcheol far away, between the trees, looking at you terrified. Thunder clapped across the sky as he ran towards you.
“Get away from him, he’s dangerous-” 
“Yes, when all I’ve done is have a conversation.” The man before you rolled his eyes, extending his hand further. “This is what these demigods do, villainize us for no reason.”
At the loud sound of Seungcheol falling you turned around worried, “Cheol careful-”
“Listen to me Y/n.” Your father drew your attention as Seungcheol got up, making his way towards you again. “They’ll do the same to you, they’ll label you a monster either ways, so come with me and we can go home now.” 
“Y/n step back-”
“Y/n come with me-”
“Y/n please don't-”
“Y/n please-”
You shut your eyes, unable to process both their voices, unable to make a choice. The fire around you intensified, burning with a darker orange - flames streamed out of your hands, joining the already raging fire, towering over the two of you. Panicking you tried to stop them but they just wouldn't - it was like that fateful night all over again. You couldn't control it. 
The Chimaera's eyes gleamed victoriously as he watched your fire burn around him. He looked astounded, like he was enthralled by it. 
“You're brilliant Y/n, you're simply brilliant. They don't deserve you-” 
“Y/n can you hear me?” You couldn't see him but his silhouette told you that Seungcheol had neared. “Don't worry, I'll save you, I got you-” 
“She doesn't need you.” Your father snarled, waving his hand, and the fire followed, striking Seungcheol right in his chest, the sheer force sending him hurling back. 
“No!” You screamed, rushing towards him when the Chimaera's hand wrapped around your wrist holding you back. 
“Y/n we need to go-” 
“No.” You muttered, voice shaking. “No, Cheol, no….”
“It doesn't matter, he doesn't matter, let him die. If we don't get out of your fire, it will…..” 
You can't really hear what he's saying anymore. Let him die. 
You would never let someone die. You didn't let that child die, you won't let Seungcheol die, you weren't one of the monsters. You just weren't. 
Freeing your hand from his with a jerk, you pushed him back, sending the tall man stumbling behind. 
“How could you?” You shook your head. “How could you think I'd join you?”
“I hoped it wouldn’t come to this.” He cracked his neck, straightening up. “If you're not going to come on your own, then I'll drag you to hell by myself.” 
Your throat dried as you watched his face morph, his limbs changing into an animal's, the gruesome image of him you had seen in the scrolls coming to life before you - part lion, part goat, part snake. It made your soul tremble. 
“No.” Lower lip quivering, you stepped back. “You're going to hell alone.” 
And you're not really sure what overcame you or how you knew what to do but suddenly the fire around you roared to life, streaks of the flames charging towards the monster, wrapping it in its grip. You watched as its expression went from amusement to disbelief to pure fear and ended with a mocking smile on its face. When the fire fully engulfed him, it exploded, leaving behind only black ash, fluttering in the wind. 
You stumbled, losing your footing, feeling suddenly drained as you fell to your knees, vision blurring. Pain seared through your head, immaculate pain that you had never felt before but somehow it wasn't worse than the one in your chest. The one you felt as you looked at Seungcheol lying on the forest floor in a pool of blood. Getting it together you quickly got up and rushed to him, pulling him into your lap, calling out to him. 
“Cheol, can you hear me?” Tears stung your eyes. “Please please please be okay.” 
He wasn't okay. The impact of the Chimaera's attack sent him straight into the trunk of the tree, his back and his head was severely wounded but the most noticeable thing was the large burn mark right in the middle of his chest. 
“Help.” You whispered, looking around even though you knew it was pointless. There was no one around. “Please help.” 
But the only response you got is the sound of hooves, galloping across the forest floor. Unsure, you pulled Seungcheol closer to you, looking out into the fog between the trees. Whoever it was, whatever it was, if it meant any more harm to Seungcheol you'll fight it. You'll die fighting it but you'll save this man. 
But that wasn't necessary. 
As the sound neared, a familiar looking winged horse jumped out of the mist, neighing at the sight of you. 
Pegasus. Seokmin's horse. 
Finally, finally allowing yourself to breathe, you shut your eyes in relief. Maybe Seungcheol could be saved after all. 
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Everything that happened from the moment you came to camp was still a blur. 
The minute Pegasus entered the grounds, all the members rushed towards the two of you, faces filled with terror. Some members carried Seungcheol towards the Great Hall. Someone had wrapped a blanket around your shoulders, someone else handed you some strange concoction and told you to drink up. It was all a flurry of motion as everyone made their way to the infirmary, a hall you hadn't seen before, putting Seungcheol down on the bed as Jihoon grabbed a pair of scissors and cut his shirt open. You nearly threw up.
The wound was so much worse than you had thought, red and angry on his skin. The members scurried around, grabbing the different things Jihoon was ordering them to get as you stood in between it all, frozen. It was only when Jihoon smeared a green paste all over Seungcheol's chest and the latter screamed in agony that you snapped out of the trance. He was in so much pain-
“Y/n!” Minghao shook your shoulders, making you turn to him. “I'm asking you something.” 
“W….what?” 
“How did this happen?” His gaze was piercing. “Did you guys find the Chimaera?”
Slowly, you nodded.
“And Seungcheol fought it?” He looked stunned. “Why aren't either of you in your gear, what the hell happened-” 
“Minghao.” Jeonghan's voice echoed through the room like the crack of a whip. “Enough.”
“But we need to know-” 
“No, we don't.” He neared you, pulling you away from Minghao’s grip. “Not right now. She's hurt too.”
You glanced down at your legs, noticing the gashes and wounds all over. You didn't even realise. And why would you? This pain was nothing before what Seungcheol was going through. 
“Fuck, Y/n.” Jun stepped up and quickly sat you on the neighbouring bed, reaching for the iodine and cotton, cleaning you up. From the corner of your eye, you saw Jeonghan turn to Joshua. 
“Take her away from here.” He instructed. “Don't let her step foot in the infirmary till Cheol is fine.” 
You opened your mouth in disbelief. You wanted to argue, you wanted to protest but you couldn't bring yourself to. Not with the way your head was spinning. Minghao's worried face was the last thing you saw before the darkness consumed you. 
When you opened your eyes, all you could see was the white of the ceiling. 
You glanced at the camp outside the window. It was submerged in the black of the night, only the usual scattered torches burning around. You looked away - the sight of fire was unbearable.
Groaning you sat up, body sore all over, as you kicked the covers off. The wounds seemed to have fully disappeared, you're guessing courtesy of Jihoon's herbal ointment but the pain in your chest was ever present. 
Limping out of the room, you glanced around, wondering where you were. The abnormal amount of mirrors gave you your answer - House of Aphrodite, Joshua's residence. You walked around, catching sight of the silhouettes of the furniture - you always assumed Joshua would have the prettiest house of them all and that seemed true. At least from the little you could see in the moonlight streaming in. 
The soft snores of the residence owner were what pulled you towards his bedroom. You meant to glance, to see if he was properly asleep and sneak out but the sound of your feet awakened him. 
“Y/n…” He called out to you groggily, raising himself on his elbows. “Why aren't you asleep?” 
How could you sleep with Seungcheol lying in the infirmary like that? When you didn't have a clue how he was doing?
Joshua read your mind. 
“Cheol is fine.” He mumbled, clearing his throat. “He's better.”
“I want to see him-” 
“I know.” He sighed. “But Jihoon has strictly asked no one to go to the infirmary. He doesn't want to he disturbed.”
“Will….” You gulped, stepping onto his room. “Will he be okay?” 
“He will. He has to. For all of us.” 
“Yeah.” You whispered, looking around with a sigh. “I don't know what to do. I won't be able to do anything till he's fine-”
“Come here.” Joshua beckoned you, scooting over in his bed, making space for you. You blinked at him confused. “Come Y/n.”
Letting out a deep breath, you complied, slipping under his covers. 
“Look up.” 
And you did, eyes meeting the fascinating sight of the sky, stars blinking behind the dark clouds, the moonlight scattered between them. It looked so calming. 
“Didn't you say you liked camping with your father when you were a child?”
You had told him that. A few days after you came to camp, given Joshua was your only confidant, you had told him about the earliest memory you had. It was when you were around 6 years old, on one of the rare days your father was particularly happy, insisting that the two of you drive to the edge of the city and set up a little tent. Of course he was silly to choose a really windy day to camp and also more than incapable of setting up a tent so you simply watched as it flew away and burst out laughing. That night your father rolled out two sleeping bags side by side as the two of you talked about the stars while the campfire burnt away. 
Somehow now, it made sense why the flames didn't extinguish in the wind. It was you. Your power over fire, a power you got from your real father, not the man who's love, attention and validation you craves for twenty five years of your life. That man wasn't your father. 
Joshua turned at the sound of you letting out a deep breath, finding your eyes shut tight. You didn't want to see the stars anymore. 
“Y/n,” He turned towards you. “Are you okay?” 
“I'm fine.” You mumbled. “I should probably sleep….” 
The lack of response told you that Joshua didn't believe you. You turned to glance at him, noticing his worried expression.
“Okay, I'm not fine,” You confessed. “But I will be.” 
“And I will be there for you.” He reassured, taking your hand. Sighing softly you scooted closer to him, burying your face at the crook of his neck as his arms wrapped around you. 
“Thank you Shua.” You whispered. “Thank you.” 
But before you could hear what he had to say in return, you drifted away, falling asleep.
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Although you couldn't ever bring yourself to wake up for training at the crack of dawn, you somehow found yourself wide awake today. Joshua hadn't moved an inch in his sleep, still holding on to you. As much as you found his arms warm and welcoming, you had to go see Seungcheol. You had to see if he was fine.
Slowly slipping out of his embrace, you slid out of Joshua's bed, glancing at him one last time before grabbing his jacket and silently stepping out. 
The morning dew had made the grass all wet and squelchy, your footsteps very apparent in the silence but thankfully there was no one in an audible radius. The flames of the torch continued to burn low which meant training hadn't started yet, or maybe there was none today, you didn't know. Quickening your pace you walked over to the Great Hall, locating the infirmary beside it. 
Through the window you glanced in the dimness, recognising the silhouette of Seungcheol asleep on the bed and another someone sitting on the couch beside him, his head rolled back and mouth slightly parted in his sleep - Jeonghan. 
You wanted to step in, to sit beside Seungcheol, to see how he was but somehow you couldn't move, not with all that weight in your chest. 
“You shouldn't be here.” 
You covered your mouth, preventing the shriek from leaving your being as you turned, spotting Jihoon behind you, a tray of herbs in his hand. “Jeonghan was very clear about not allowing you to go near Seungcheol.”
“And since when does Jeonghan tell everyone what to do?” 
“He's interim leader.” Jihoon sighed. “In the absence of Cheol, his word is the rule.”
“It's not like Cheol's gone.” You rolled your eyes but when they fell on Jihoon's grim expression you gulped. “Joshua said he was better.” 
“Better than before, yes.” Jihoon agreed. “I've fixed his bruises and mended his bones and everything else is healing but…” 
“But?” 
“That burn on his chest.” He sighed. “I don't know how to fix it.”
“Y-you can't fix the burn?” 
He shook his head. “Certain things cause damage beyond repair. Zeus’s lightning, Ares's sword, Chimaera's fire, these are nearly impossible to heal from.”
“Nearly? That means there's some way.” 
“There is.” He nodded slowly. “The Chimaera hasn't been heard of in ages so most healers don't bother to learn the remedies for his fire but luckily I did.” 
“So you can fix him.” You looked at the man before you, eyes shimmering with hope. 
But Jihoon shook his head. “I would've been able to if that was the Chimaera's fire, but….. it's not.” 
It felt like the ground had been pulled from under you. 
“Every fire is different, every fire has its own pattern, its own signature. One can tell by the burn, who's fire caused the injury and Seungcheol’s wound is not from the Chimaera's fire. It’s someone else's.” 
You took a few stumbling steps back, sweat running down your neck. 
You. 
Your fire. 
It was your fire which hurt Seungcheol.
This was all your fault. 
Jihoon frowned. “Y/n, do you know anything about-”
“I’m sorry.” You whispered, taking a step back. “I’m sorry, I have to go.”
With that you left behind a baffled Jihoon, turning on your heel and running out of the Great Hall, straight into the forest. 
And for a long time, you didn't stop running. 
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By the time you returned to camp, it was nearly noon. 
You could tell that the members had been looking for you because the moment you stepped into the dining hall, Soonyoung nearly knocked you over with a bone crushing hug. 
“Fuck, Y/n, where have you been?” He held you tighter. “We were worried sick.” 
“Someone call Hansol and his hounds back.” Minghao spoke from across the room. “Tell him she's here and she's fine.” 
Seungkwan muttered that he would do so before shooting you a concerned look, and leaving the hall. Joshua stepped up as Soonyoung finally let you go. 
“I was worried when I woke up and you weren't there.” 
“Is that where you're crashing now?” Mingyu wrapped his arm around your shoulder. “Don't worry, not for long, your new residence is coming along really well, it should be ready in a few days.” 
You scoffed inwardly. What was the point?
“Thanks.” You muttered as Chan walked up to you with a glass of water in his hands, looking down pointedly. 
“Your feet are injured again.” 
“I went for a run.” You confessed. “Had to clear my mind.” 
“Are you that used to punishment rounds first thing in the morning?” Seokmin chuckled. “I'm going to have to find a different punishment for you if you're enjoying it.” 
A small smile grew on your face as the boys began to argue, talking one over the other. From across the room Wonwoo, who was the only one who hadn't approached you, looked at you expressionlessly, his eyes hooded. Gulping you turned away, just in time for Jun to drag you to the table, putting down a plate of food, insisting you eat. The rest of the boys too scattered around, grabbing their own plates, serving themselves, settling in one by one. At the same time, Seungkwan walked in with a tired, dirt clad and unamused Hansol. 
“Don't ever do that again.” Hansol, who hadn't spoken a word to you all these days, mumbled, walking in. 
“Don't worry.” You took a bite of Jun's delicious bibimbap, mind at undeniable peace now that you had made a decision. “I won't trouble anyone anymore.” 
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You spent the rest of the day in the Great Hall with the boys. You had asked for their company, mumbling under your breath and without asking why, they complied immediately. Of course Seungcheol, Jeonghan and Jihoon were still in the infirmary but the rest of the boys were scattered around the hall all day. 
At most times it was quiet, everyone doing their own thing in the silence. Some of them were reading, some were working, Minghao was cleaning his weapons, Jun and Mingyu were consistently cooking, Wonwoo was just looking out of the window. 
It was only after dinner that everyone finally dispersed, retreating to their cabins. Joshua offered his residence for you to crash again and you agreed, stating you needed to grab your clothes, shower and you'll be there. Nodding he left with the rest, as you made your way to Seungcheol's house. 
For the longest time, this place had been your safe haven but stepping into the empty space today only further broke your heart. You had made the right choice. 
Heading to your room, you grabbed a duffel bag and stuffed some of your essentials - clothes, laptop, books etc. Throwing on a hoodie, you gave your room one last longing look before closing the door behind you. It was only as you stepped out of the large entrance that you felt the soft fur caressing your leg. 
Natalie.
Bending down, you rubbed her fondly as she looked up at you with her big cute eyes. 
“I'm going Nat.” You softly muttered, “As much as I hoped, I don't belong here. I've done nothing but be a menace, attract trouble and worse, put lives in danger. I can't do that to these boys anymore, I just can't….you understand that right? 
She looked at you like she did.
“I would bring you along, but you're a creature of Olympus, of the heavens and I,” You let out a shaky breath. “I'm on my way to hell.” 
Dropping a small kiss on its crown, you smiled at it sadly.
“You'll be happy here, there's Jun’s farm, you can follow Wonwoo all day, you can play with Daisy and the hounds too. You'll be fine without me.”
She whined, louder than usual and it hurt but you knew this was for the best. You had to go and you had to go alone. 
Throwing your duffel bag over your shoulder, you set out towards the camp entrance, ready to leave it all behind, ready to go. You had people here who loved you, people who were annoyed with you, people who were sick of you, peepple who ignored you, but no one hated you, not yet at least. And you wanted to leave before that happened. Because you were sure if they found out it was you who injured Seungcheol, they wouldn't forgive you. 
Taking a deep resolved breath, you took a step forward - it was time to head to hell. 
But before you could take another step, the voice of hell itself stopped you. 
“Going already?”
You turned at the sound of his voice, looking around, chills running down your spine when you didn't spot anyone. 
“I did say you'd look for the first chance to go but I didn't think it would be so soon.” 
You turned again, spotting him right by the last torch of the path, the glow of the torch illuminating his sharp features. He most definitely wasn't there a second ago. 
“Wonwoo.” 
“Y/n.” He stepped forward. “As the Son of Underworld, I'm here to give you a quick briefing before you decide to make hell your new home - it's very hot and very, very stuffy.” 
Eyes widening, you stuttered. “H-how did you know that I was…that I wanted to-” 
“Do something utterly stupid?” He raised his eyebrow. 
And suddenly, he vanished. Straight into thin air. One second you were looking at him and the next, he was gone. And just like that, he appeared again, like he never left. 
Oh.
Of course.
Wonwoo, Son of Hades, had the power of invisibility. Of course he knew - he was always watching. 
Your mind raced back to every instance you had been alone - the library doors randomly opening, the crackling sound of the fallen leaves near the campfire, as though someone was walking, the strange feeling of someone constantly watching. It was all him and that meant there was a lot he saw and a lot more he knew. 
“If things take a turn and you're forced to face it, do whatever it takes to fight it. Don't think, don't analyse, just do it.” 
Wonwoo knew about your fire.
“Why didn't you tell me you knew?” You looked at him, tone unnecessarily accusatory. “Why didn't you say anything?” 
“This was yours to tell.” He shrugged. “I happened to find out by chance.” 
“You mean by stalking.” You spoke between gritted teeth. “You had no right to-”
“I didn't mean to.” He emphasized again.”I wasn't aware you knew your powers or that you were hiding them.”
“Does anyone else know?” 
Wonwoo shook his head. “I told you, it's not mine to tell.”
Sighing, you relaxed your shoulders. Although you were glad that no one else knew, somehow Wonwoo knowing felt like a relief. 
“Why not though?” You glanced at him curiously. “Why would you keep someone as dangerous as me on camp?”
“You're not dangerous Y/n, just different.” 
“Just? Wonwoo….” You took a deep shaky breath. “It was my fire that injured Seungcheol.” 
For a second, he was quiet. “How?” 
“It was an accident-” You mumbled, scared. “I didn't know the Chimaera would be able to use it like that-” 
“So that makes the monster dangerous.” He justified. “You're untrained, that's all.” 
That's all? 
“It's not that simple.” You threw your hands in the air. “You have no idea-” 
“No I don't.” He interjected. “No one does because there's never been a demigod like you but that doesn't make you worthy of going to hell.” 
“You think I'm going to hell to punish myself?” You raised an eyebrow. “Wonwoo, I belong there, perhaps more than you do.” 
For the first time you saw an expression on his face, one of confusion. 
“The Chimaera wasn't hunting me Wonwoo, it was trying to bring me home.” Shutting your eyes, you let out a breath. “The Chimaera is my father.”.
You expected the man before you to look shocked or at least a little scared but his expression turned impassive again. 
“So?” Wonwoo crossed his arms. “Hades is my father.”
“It's not the same-”
“But it is.” Wonwoo exhaled. “My father isn't an Olympian Y/n, he's not one of those gods, he's not worshiped like the rest. Children of Hades do not live on camps, yet here I am.”
Oh. 
You had no idea. 
“It doesn't matter what your parentage is, the problem is you don't consider this place as home, you don't consider these people as yours-” 
“That's not true-”
“If it wasn't, then instead of running away you'd have been in the infirmary, telling Jihoon about your fire.” He snapped. “So he can figure out how to heal Seungcheol.” 
You blinked at him at a loss of words. 
“I didn't think….” 
“That's the problem Y/n, you don't think.” Wonwoo looked away, sighing. “You do the first thing that comes to your mind, regardless of the consequences.” 
He was right. You always were impulsive but this time you were also wrong. You should've thought of Seungcheol first, everything else be damned. 
“If I tell Jihoon about….me, can he save Cheol?” 
“If he studies your fire, he might be able to figure out how-” 
“Let's go to the infirmary.” You interrupted him, determined. Even if saving Seungcheol meant exposing yourself, you'd do it. You'd do anything. 
But your feet stood rooted to the ground, like the fear of truth coming out hadn't left your being.
“C-can you come with me…” You looked at the man before you. “Please?” 
For the first time as you walked, Wonwoo followed, staying by your side. 
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“Y/n.” Jihoon looked at you as you stepped into the infirmary. “You shouldn't be here…”
Behind him Jeonghan, who was sitting on the edge of Seungcheol’s bed, stood up. 
“I know but-” 
“Please.” Jihoon whispered urgently. “You don't want to mess with Jeonghan now. Not with Cheol not getting any better-” 
“She's here to help.” Wonwoo spoke from behind, leaning against the entrance. “At least listen to her first.” 
“Go on.” Jeonghan spoke from behind, stepping up. “What is it?”
“You said it was someone else’s fire that hurt Cheol right?”
Jihoon frowned. “Yeah, do you know who?” 
Stretching your hand out, you held it before him. His eyes flickered between you and your empty hand, expression utterly confused. Taking a deep breath, you stared at your palm and like always, flames suddenly burned to life in your hand. Gasping, Jihoon took a terrified step back, eyes widened. 
“You… you can…”
“I can.” You finally admitted, even to yourself. “I can make fire.” 
“How is that possible….” Jihoon stared at your hand lost in thought. 
Your eyes though, drifted towards Jeonghan who looked unaffected. No shock, no surprise, no fear. Like he already knew. Like he always knew. 
You looked over your shoulder at Wonwoo. “You told him? You said you didn't-” 
“How pathetic do you deem my intellect Y/n?” Jeonghan rolled his eyes. “He didn't have to say anything, it was obvious.” 
“What do you mean obvious?” You lowered your hand, the flames dying out. 
“Your lawsuit.” He cocked his head. “We claimed the fire was an accident, like you had said but the defense argued that there was no way the fire could have spread so fast unless it was pre planned. At that point, I suspected you might be a fire bender. Of course, most fire benders are the children of Hephaestus but there weren't many Hestia children to rule out the possibility but when the house was examined, there was no identifiable source of the fire. Which meant it started out of thin air, that meant you weren't just a fire bender, you were making it too. Given your history of having an untraceable aura, I thought something was not aligning - something was different about you.” 
You gulped, unsure about verifying his theory. From the corner of your eye, you caught Wonwoo nodding at you encouragingly. 
“I am different.” Your eyes flickered between the men before you. “At the Nyx forest, the Chimaera spoke to me. He told me I was his daughter.”
A thick silence descended upon the room. So quiet you could practically hear your heartbeat. Yet again Jihoon looked stunned while Jeonghan looked like the cogwheels in his brain were spinning at full speed. 
“I've never heard about a half god, half monster.” You winced at the term as Jihoon looked far off, lost in thought. “I'm not sure what that would even look like-” 
“Me.” You sighed. “It would look like me.”
“What else?” Jeonghan chimed in. “What else did the Chimaera say?” 
“N-nothing much, he just kept insisting that I go with him to Tartarus, that it's where I belong-”
“You belong here.” Jeonghan interjected, features molding into slight anger. “Whatever it claims the other half of you is, you are half god. You were identified by the oracle, you pledged to be a part of camp seventeen and we swore to protect you as one of us so if there's anywhere you are meant to be, it's here.” 
Tears pricked your eyes hearing the conviction in his voice. Never before had someone been so insistent that you belonged. 
“I will look into what the Chimaera said means for you being part of the camp but nothing will change the fact that you are one of us.”
Beside him Jihoon nodded. You didn't see but behind you, Wonwoo nodded too.
“Jeonghan I…” You balled your hands into fists. You had thought a lot before making this choice. You knew it was the right one. “I appreciate you saying that but I just want to help Cheol however I can. Once he’s better, I will be heading to Tartarus.” 
“Why?” Jihoon looked at you questioningly. “Why would you choose to go there?” 
“Because….” You felt your voice get stuck in your throat. “Because I…”
“You think you’re meant to be there but you’re not.” Jeonghan crossed his arms. “Y/n, whether we turn out to be good or bad, it's a choice. It's always our choice. Whether you choose to go or choose to stay I want you to know that camp seventeen chose you, we always will. It's up to you to choose us.” 
“I….” 
“You don't have to decide now.” Jeonghan shook his head. “Let Jihoon study your fire first. Let us save Cheol. Once he comes around, you can tell us your decision. Whatever it is, we'll all accept it.” 
Staring at the ground, you nodded. Seungcheol first, everything else came later. 
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The next few days passed a lot slower than usual. 
Under Jeonghan's instructions, all camp training had been suspended indefinitely. While some members were added to the shift roster to increase the security of the camp, others were sent out with missions to procure the ingredients Jihoon asked for. Apparently some of them were so rare, members wouldn't return home for days but no one ever complained. Everyone silently followed orders and did what they were instructed to do. 
You, on the other hand, had nothing to do. Jeonghan simply told you to be available as and when Jihoon required you. Apollo's son had been spending all his time nose deep in books and ancient texts, scribbling away and brewing all kinds of potions and concoctions. Whenever any of his remedies didn't work, he'd call for you and ask to see your fire again. Sometimes he told you to burn something, sometimes he told you to just hold the flame as long as you could. Sometimes he just wanted you to sit by him. Maybe he didn't like to be as alone as he came across.
On the other side of the room, Jeonghan didn't leave Seungcheol even for a second. All day and all night, he sat on that couch, right next to him - he ate there, he slept there, he went through his case files there, he was eternally glued to his friends side. Somewhere deep down, you felt a little jealous. You'd never seen friendship like theirs and you didn't know if you could ever have something like that in your life. 
But sometimes, a part of you said maybe you could. 
When you weren't required in the infirmary and were tired of breathing the camp air, you'd set off, going deeper into the woods, finding a log and sitting all by yourself. But you were never alone. The rustling sound of the leaves or the soft sounds of breath in the pin drop silence told you you weren't alone, he was always there. 
Wonwoo. 
You couldn't see him but you knew he was around, watching over you and somehow it didn't feel intrusive - There was a solace his presence offered that you couldn't explain. It was funny though, how you went from being completely ignored by him to being constantly looked after - in hindsight maybe he always cared for you. 
Clearly they all cared for you. Although Mingyu, Chan and Soonyoung were the ones who were sent away to missions, the first thing they did after enquiring about Cheol was come looking for you - they wanted to make sure you were fine too. Jun and Minghao always made sure you ate, Seokmin, Hansol and Seungkwan had taken over with the building of your house and Joshua was your constant companion all night - after every long, tiring and unsuccessful day, it was in his arms that you found yourself dozing off. Although the rest of the members did not know about your parentage yet, again thanks to Jeonghan's instructions, a part of you now felt that they would accept you, regardless of what your father claimed. 
But the big question was, what was the right choice? With you in camp, was it safe? Sure you had managed to send your father back to Tartarus but it was only a matter of time before he got stronger and came looking for you again. He had already sent his minions once and clearly he didn't care about any collateral damage. You were still very much a threat to everyone, you'd always be one. Maybe, after Cheol regained consciousness, it was best you left. 
You told yourself you'd leave but one look at the way the boys bickered and laughed around the dining hall and you'd find your resolve wavering. You didn't want to leave them, you didn't want to go. But the gnawing feeling of what might happen to them in your company always brought you back to square one - it was a never ending loop of indecision. 
And it was that loop that was going on in your mind as you watched Jeonghan flipping through the multiple files he had laid out on the bed beside Seungcheol’s. 
“Look, the case appears simple but it isn't so straightforward,” Jeonghan looked up, tucking the pencil over his ear. The two of you were finally going over the details of the lawsuit. “The Parks, the family that is suing you, is doing so for two reasons - damage of personal property and attempting to harm their son.”
You glanced at the papers he was looking at.
“That's where it becomes interesting. Even though you caused considerable trouble and more importantly, endangered their child, they aren't trying to get you prosecuted as a criminal,” Jeonghan's eyes gleamed. “They filed a civil lawsuit.” 
“Yes, they want me to compensate them monetarily. ”  
“Think about it, if you had a child-” You didn't want to think about that at all actually. “-and if someone tried to hurt her or him, what would be your response? Asking for money or asking for justice?” 
“I would've gone berserk.” You muttered. “I'd want them punished.”
“Precisely, instead, they're trying to get money out of a broke architecture student.” Jeonghan pointed out. “Doesn't make sense right?” 
You shook your head. 
“Usually in cases of property damage, most people seek insurance payouts but the Parks didn't and this is why.” He pushed a paper towards you. “Wonwoo managed to get his hands on the police report-”
“How?”
“The man does some secret government job, he's got his hands everywhere.” 
“Huh.” You looked around, wondering if he was listening. 
“He's not here.” Jeonghan brushed off, pointing at the paper again. “The point is, the police report mentions two things of major importance - One, they have no idea how the fire even started. Two, the Parks household did not implement any fire safety measures in their residence.” 
“So…. they're not eligible for an insurance payout, right?” 
Jeonghan nodded. “That is why they are pressing civil charges against you, so they can get the money from you, by labelling you as an arsonist.”
“But I am an arsonist.” 
Jeonghan sighed. “Okay you are, but they don't have any proof and that's what our argument will focus on. We will first insist that the police identify the source of fire and then we will add that you had no motive. You didn't know the family before all this, you had no personal connections, and you had no motive to harm.” 
“But the child….” You thought about that night again. “Jeonghan, he saw me start the fire.” 
“He won't remember.” Jeonghan sat back down on his chair. “The Demigod Union took care of that.” 
“The what?” 
“There's a body in every city that handles all demigod related issues called the Demigod Union. Luckily Mingyu was one of the firefighters at the scene so when he sensed the high levels of Aura, he alerted the DU. The senior members gave the child a memory potion while he was hospitalized and it replaced his memories - he only remembers sleeping and waking up to a room full of fire.” 
“If that's the case, he couldn’t have told the Parks anything so why would they think I was trying to harm their child?” 
“Sympathy.” Jeonghan stated like it was obvious. “They're trying to sway the jury by showing their five year old child as a victim. Hence we need to be careful and make the right moves, then we should be able to win this case.” 
You nodded, leaning back against your chair. One battle hadn't even ended and another had begun. You glanced at Jeonghan who seemed lost in his stack of papers again. There was scribbles everywhere, notes in the margins, yellow highlights marking points. Evidently he had done all his research thoroughly. 
“When did you even do all this?” 
“I take my job seriously.” He muttered without looking up. 
“Even the pro bono ones?”
“A case is a case.” He shrugged. “Besides, you are one of us.” 
There he was, hitting you with words that was only making choosing harder. 
You looked at the sleeping Seungcheol. His chest rose and fell with every breath he took, the bandages covering his wound, moving with it. A few days ago you wondered if you would ever get to see him again, but here you were today, right by his side.
“When you saw Seungcheol, did you know it was my fire that hurt him?”
Jeonghan shook his head. “Not at first, but when Jihoon said the fire didn’t seem like the Chimaera’s, I suspected it might have been yours.”
“If you didn't know, then why did you send me away that day?”
‘Because you were untrained and emotional.” He turned to you. “It takes a lot of training for demigods to gain control over their powers. Extreme emotion, be it happiness, sadness, anger…. They tend to make you unstable. I knew you were upset about Cheol so I didn’t want his condition to make you feel worse.”
“So you sent me away for….me?” 
“For everyone’s safety.” He corrected. 
“But when you realised it was my fault, why didn’t you tell Jihoon?” You looked at him curiously. “Why didn’t you confront me?”
Jeonghan sat on the couch, looking far off, growing silent.
“Jeonghan…?”
“I asked Jihoon to mention the unknown fire if you came asking for updates. I also asked Wonwoo to stop you from leaving.” He glanced at you from the corner of his eye. “I wanted to know what you would choose to do.” 
“You were testing me?” You raised an eyebrow. “What if I ran away? What if Wonwoo couldn't stop me?” 
“Then I would have hunted you down no matter where on Earth you were and… “ He sighed. “And would have begged you to help me. Begged you to save him.”
You blinked at him, just a little stunned. “He really is important to you, isn’t he?” 
Jeonghan nodded. “He saved my life in more ways than one, you won’t understand. No one does.” 
“Jeonghan I’m… I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner-”
“I don’t blame you for your choices.” He sighed. “So I hope you won't hold mine against me.” 
“I…” You gulped, not quite sure if he was still talking about prioritising saving his friend over keeping your secret. “I don't mind that you chose him over me.” 
Jeonghan stared at you for just a little longer than usual before he nodded and turned away. “I need my afternoon nap.”
And with that, he turned away, snuggling into the couch and shutting his eyes. Within a few seconds, the soft sounds of his deep breaths filled the room. 
The conversation was over. 
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Seungcheol wasn't getting any better. 
Though tension was palpable in the whole camp, perhaps the members chose to look at the bright side - he wasn't getting worse. 
Then the day came when Jihoon said he had exhausted all options, that he didn't know what to try anymore. Everyone had just about given up hope when he called for you one more time - 
“What colour is your fire when you're in pain?” 
You had no idea.
You spent half an hour after that trying your best to remember, and when nothing could jog your memory, you curled your fingers into a fist and slammed the glass pane of the nearby window, blood furiously trickling down your knuckles. When Jeonghan took a worried step forward, you raised your injured hand to stop him before it spontaneously burst into flames….Blue ones. 
Jihoon scribbled a quick note of it before tending to your wound, removing each glass piece embedded in your skin slowly. As you winced, he handed you a potion that he claimed would help with the pain and you gulped it down quickly remembering how bitter it tasted last time. Surprisingly, you noticed it wasn't too bad, nor was it the same colour as before. Though you didn't notice that Jihoon had visibly frozen, like a realisation had dawned upon him. 
The moment he was done dressing your wound he got to work, preparing what he called his final remedy. He said if this didn't work, then nothing could wake Seungcheol up anymore. 
That night, the whole camp waited with bated breath. You were lying on Joshua's bed with your back pressed against his chest and his arms around you but neither of you were asleep. Sleep was unimaginable now. Everyone just wanted to hear the news. And at around 8am in the morning, just as everyone was headed towards the dining hall, it came.
Zephyr, who hadn't stopped patrolling the skies all these days, suddenly flew down, over the heads of the strolling members, a gust of wind left behind in its wake as it made its way towards the infirmary. 
There was only one thing that could make it do that. 
Seungcheol's call. 
He was awake.
Cheering, all the boys rushed towards the Great Hall, running as fast as they could. You felt your knees buckle and hit the ground as you held your chest in relief.
He was fine.
Seungcheol was fine. 
.
.
.
That meant it was time to go. 
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“Your name was the first thing he took.” Joshua spoke from behind you as you shoved a spoon of cereal in your mouth, sitting at the dining table. “He's been awake for days, why won't you go see him Y/n?” 
It had been nearly a week since Seungcheol gained consciousness in the infirmary. Since then, the dining hall had been unsurprisingly empty - all the members began to camp at the infirmary first then at his house where he was moved after a few days. You hadn't visited him in either place. 
“I will.” You munched slowly. “I'm just waiting for him to get better.” 
“He is better.” 
“But not as good as before, right?” 
“It's a matter of time.” Joshua slid onto the bench, sitting beside you. “Jihoon said he'll be walking in a day or two.” 
You nodded, humming. “That's good.”
“Hey.” Hand below your chin, Joshua turned your face towards him. “What's wrong, love? You were so worried all these days and now….”
“I don't know.” You whispered, voicing your fear. “I don't know how to face him. I don't know what he'll think of me when he learns it's all my fault-”
“If you don't know, then ask him.” 
Every cell in your body froze at the familiar voice you hadn't heard in a long time.
Seungcheol. 
“Chief.” Joshua quickly got up and bowed. “You're….are you okay?”
Seungcheol didn't answer, so you figured he nodded. As you heard his footsteps near, you turned, shutting your eyes and bowing, not looking at him. 
“Shua, ask Chan to start the car. Y/n and I have to go somewhere.” 
Taken aback, you looked up but Seungcheol had walked out already, Joshua following behind, throwing you an apologetic look. 
Did he know? Had he decided to drop you to Tartarus by himself? 
You had meant to leave the day Seungcheol opened his eyes. You had even packed all your things again but the boys claimed he wasn’t entirely fine yet. So you told yourself you’ll leave the next day and then the next and then the next and now here you were, with him finally well enough. 
You didn't know what to do, at least until the sound of Chan's taxi horn resounded in the camp - then you quickly put your bowl in the sink and rushed out. When you reached the car, Seungcheol was already sitting in the passenger seat while surprisingly Seungkwan sat at the back, scooting over to make space for you. No sooner than you got in Seungcheol instructed Chan to go and he did, setting off into the forest at full speed. 
The whole of the ride you looked down at the hands on your lap, fingers fiddling with each other nervously. When you began to pick at the skin beside your nails, Seungkwan's hand wrapped around yours, stopping you. You were grateful for that, especially with lightning consistently flashing across the sky, his hand over yours was a comforting weight. But he didn't need to hold on for long, not with the car stopping before a very familiar landmark tree. Getting out of the car, Seungcheol opened the door on your side, instructing both of you to get out and Seungkwan to go sit in front. Puzzled, the two of you complied and Seungcheol went over to Chan, 
“Both of you head back to camp.” 
Chan looked confused. “But what about you and Y/n?”
“My range rover is still here. I'll bring it back.” He stepped back. “You two should leave.” 
Without questioning any further, Chan nodded, reversing the car as Seungkwan shot you a worried look. As they left, disappearing at the end of the road, Seungcheol began to walk into the darkness of the forest while you stood rooted to the ground, unsure about what was happening. It was only when lightning furiously struck the olive tree and it burst into flames that you took a terrified step away, following him. 
By the time your eyes adjusted to the darkness, you found Seungcheol’s silhouette standing by his car that had been left here abandoned for days now. Pulling his keys from his pants, he unlocked it, getting into the driver's seat before turning on the engine, the car and the headlights roaring to life. 
“Get in.” 
You heard his voice over the soft humming of the engine and obeyed, not wanting to fuel his already intensified anger. Seungcheol stared far off at the trees illuminated by the white lights of the car, lost in thought. You didn't dare look at him. 
Finally, after what seemed like forever, though it had been barely a minute, he let out a sigh and turned to you. Wordlessly, he tugged you towards him, hand gripping your thigh as he pulled you into his lap. Although surprised, you didn't resist, letting him wrap his arms around you, burying his face in the crook of your neck. Overwhelmed, you hugged him back, as tight as you could, like you never want to let him go. You could feel Seungcheol’s lips curl into a smile against your skin.
“I missed you.” He whispered, nuzzling his nose against your neck. 
Letting out a breath of relief, you finally smiled after days. “I…. I missed you too.” 
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It turned out astronomy student Seungcheol was a resourceful young man.
After nearly fifteen minutes, when the two of you finally broke from the embrace, he headed to the boot of his car and pulled out a tent and a couple of camping supplies - apparently he spent a lot of nights out in the middle of nowhere, studying the stars. You sat and watched as he skillfully erected the tent, gathered some wood and started a campfire. You stared at the flames, thoughts racing in your mind. Camping had once been a very bittersweet memory for you, and you didn't know how today was going to turn out. 
When Seungcheol beckoned you to sit next to him by the campfire, you walked over and sat across him instead. It was high time for a conversation; for both of you to tell your truths. 
Seungcheol sighed, “I suppose it's time we talked.”  
You nodded. 
“I know my behaviour over the past many days must be confusing for you.”
You nodded again.
“Before I explain myself I just want to make one thing clear.” He took a deep breath. “I really like you Y/n.” 
Your lips parted in surprise. You didn't see that coming. 
“I have since the day you stepped into camp, and I saw the way you looked at me, I knew you liked me too.” 
“Then why….”
“Do you know why it's always dark in Nyx forest?” 
You blinked at the sudden switch of topic. 
“Because she's the goddess of the night?” 
“Yes, but she's also the goddess of darkness - the trees of her forest are so dense, they don't even allow light in.” 
“Okay….” 
“Which means other than the Underworld, this is the only place that cannot be seen from the skies, the only place my father has no eyes.” 
Zeus?
“You mean…” And you finally realised. “The reason behind everything you were doing is…..your father?” 
“I admit at first I didn't make a move on you because I didn't know if you truly liked me or if it was the….” 
“....usual attraction women have towards you?” 
Seungcheol gulped. “Yeah that, but when your feelings remained consistent after my initial rejection that day in my house, I figured it was real.” 
“Then why didn't you kiss me when I came back?” You remembered the lightning in the sky when the two of you were giggling away in the arch of the House of Zeus. Seungcheol's power was thunder, but when you were around him, it had always been lightning. It had always been Zeus. “Was it because of your father?”
Seungcheol nodded slowly, “Ever since your discovery, Olympus has been disturbed. An undetectable aura…. Everyone knew something was different about you.” Oh you knew what was different. “My father wasn't happy that I took you into my camp, so he made it very clear that I stay away from you. Otherwise he… would do what was necessary to keep you away.” 
“Zeus… threatened me?”
Seungcheol nodded. “Ever since then I have been on the edge around you, always guarded, always alert, always nervous…” Oh. His force field.  No wonder. “That's why I was surprised you could touch me without being electrocuted. But now that I think about it, maybe the force field wasn't active to begin with. Perhaps I was selfish, perhaps I wasn't antagonised enough and my desire to have you was greater than my desire to protect you.”
“Cheol….” You sighed, getting up and sitting beside him, taking his hand in yours. You had no idea he felt this deeply about you - all this while you assumed he didn't care. “I don't understand, why does your father care so much about….us? We're grown adults, we can make our own choices.” 
Seungcheol grew silent. Then he took a deep breath, 
“Olympus is…dying.” You frowned as he continued. “Yes the Gods are immortal but they've lived for too long, they've ruled for too long. After the Titans, they had been undefeated, ruling for centuries and now they're looking to step down on their own. They're looking for heirs and… Zeus wants me to be his.”
You could feel your heart pounding in your ears. Seungcheol….King of Olympus? Of course Zeus didn't want him to have anything to do with you, you were an anomaly, part monster. 
“Do you want to be…. I mean, is that what you want?” 
“Being King of Gods? I don't know, I was never asked if it's what I wanted. For as long as I remember, ever since I was a little boy, Zeus only told me to train hard, to become worthy.” He sighed. “I don't know about being King but I do want to be branded as his heir - having Zeus's blessing would make winning the quests a lot easier. I want that for my boys.” 
You scoffed disbelievingly. “Is winning a sparring competition really worth it?” 
Seungcheol’s expression was incredulous. “Winning the quest isn't just winning a title Y/n. The camp which wins is set free - it is disbanded and the members are allowed to return to the mortal world, to live their own lives, have careers and friends and families. Winning the quest means winning freedom.”
Oh. 
“The boys have been working hard for years yet we haven't been able to win a season. If I'm branded Heir of Zeus, it will be easier to make alliances, to gain favors. His Mark would change the whole game.” 
“His Mark?”
“His heir would carry some sort of identifiable symbol of Zeus called His Mark, I don't know what exactly, he hasn't officially branded me yet.” 
“Why not?”
“He still doesn't feel I'm worthy enough, he thinks I can do better. Train harder, lead the team better, choose my partner better….”
The two of you fell in a painful silence. 
“Y/n as much as I want His Mark, I want you too-” 
“But you can't have both can you?”
Seungcheol slowly shook his head. 
“You can't have both anywhere but here…” You slowly added. “Zeus isn't watching you here right?”
“He isn't but all that lightning earlier…. those were warnings. I suppose he suspects.” Seungcheol looked up, eyes meeting the trees instead of the sky. “I hoped this would seem like an attempt to get the car back but I guess not.” 
“Does that mean this is the first and last time we're going to be civil with each other?” You chuckled sadly. “Are we going to go back to the Cold War?”
“Y/n,” Seungcheol turned to you, gripping your hands tighter. “Let me just become his heir, officially that is, receive His Mark, win the quest and then we can do whatever - he can't stop me.”
“So you…you want us to work?”
He nodded. “Of course I do. Y/n I mean it, I really do like you and I want us to at least have a chance - that is if…. if you want me too.” 
You did want him. Of course you wanted him, but the fact still remained - you were part monster. Would Seungcheol, the leader who put his boys above all, the man who was to rule the heavens, still want you if he knew? It was only right to tell him the truth but…
Perhaps you took a little too long to muse. You were drawn out of your thoughts as Seungcheol retracted his hand.
“It's completely okay if you don't…” 
You gripped his fingers, looking at him determined. Seungcheol seemed confused by your mismatching actions but he waited for you to say something. Instead, you showed him.
Leaning forward you pressed your lips against his, softly at first before he tilted his head further capturing your mouth in a frenzy. 
The two of you kissed like teenagers in the heat, licking, sucking, moaning into each other's mouths. Lips swollen, neck almost catching a cramp from the angle, but you continued, sliding into his lap, your legs across his, whimpering when he squeezed your thighs. Instinctively, you grabbed the hem of your t-shirt and lifted it, pulling it over your head and tossing it on the floor after which you realised….. the forest was watching. 
“What's wrong?” Seungcheol looked at you concerned, trying his best not to ogle at your breasts. 
“Feels like we're being watched.” You muttered, wrapping your arms around his neck, pressing yourself closer to him so you didn't feel so exposed. 
Laughing, Seungcheol looked up at you fondly, tucking your hair behind your ear. “Everything in the Nyx forest embodies her, she's present everywhere.” 
“So we're going to have sex in…in front of a goddess?” 
“Oh we're going to have sex?” He grinned at you teasingly. 
“Cheol…” You whined. “Yes, yes we are,  but I just don't know about here…” 
“Nyx isn't just any goddess, she's a primordial. Unlike the gods, she doesn't have a human form. She's just an entity, spread through her realm.” 
“So she just… exists?” 
He nodded. “She doesn't come under the rules that govern the Gods - she's above and beyond the inhabitants of Olympus.”
“Does that mean she won't tattle on Zeus about us?”
Seungcheol laughed, placing a butterfly kiss on your nose, like you were too cute for him to handle. “She is the one god Zeus is terrified of so no, he won't ask and she won't tell.”  
“Thank fuck.” You muttered and kissed him again, your urgency nearly knocking him over. Balancing your weight over him, Seungcheol chuckled, pulling you closer, tongue slipping into your mouth. You wanted to take his shirt off too but when you tried to reach for the hem, Seungcheol drew back, glancing at your hand. 
“What?” You raised your eyebrows, curious but not worried. You had finally learnt that Seungcheol really wanted you. Something else was bothering him.
He shook his head and before you could ask him again, he hooked his arm under your knees and with absolutely zero effort, lifted you, carrying you to the tent. Somehow, after all that happened between the two of you, it was only when he glanced at your face so lovingly that you felt shy, looking away with a smile. Laughing Seungcheol set you down on the sleeping bag before zipping up the entrance, the faint light of the campfire illuminating the inside. You pulled your legs together, hugging your knees and Seungcheol's expression turned amused. 
“Didn't take you to be a shy one.”
“I'm not.” You mumbled, “but I don't know. I suddenly feel like a teenager who's out with her boyfriend, about to do it for the first time.” 
Seungcheol crouched, his eyes at you level, suppressing a smile. “Boyfriend?”
“Don't get ahead of yourself.” You narrowed your eyes at him.
“I'm just observing.” He laughed. “You like the forbidden.” 
“I don't mind the unconventional.” You corrected him. 
“Even if it means pretending like we don't want to have anything to do with each other when I like you so damn much?”
You nodded, trying not to blush. 
Seungcheol tugged your arms, pulling them away from you. “Even if we have to come to the middle of nowhere every time we want to have sex?” 
“Most definitely.” 
“And what if I never want to leave this place?” He leaned over, prompting you to lean away, your back hitting the ground as he hovered over you. “What if I want to be inside you and never leave?” 
“Works for me.” You grinned, pulling him down by his shirt, kissing him yet again. You couldn't remember the last time you enjoyed making out with someone this much. Maybe it was how soft his lips were, or how eager he was to kiss you back or just how much you craved this, the moment he broke away to kiss your neck, you whined at the loss. 
“I've been dying to get my hands on you like this.” He groaned, grabbing a tit with a hand and the other with his mouth, the swirl of his tongue making your back arch. Taking advantage of your raised hips, Seungcheol hooked his fingers along the waistband of your shorts, pulling it down along with your underwear. As he dragged it down your legs, he sat on his heels, looking at you like you were a miracle, causing you to blush all over again. Before you could ask to see him too he descended upon your chest again, trailing down this, mapping your skin with his lips as his fingers teased your folds. Of course you were drenched between your legs, your hands threading his thick tresses as he kissed you at the dip of your waistline, looking up to see you tense in anticipation. 
Fuck. 
He looked so hot like that, gauging your reactions, eager to please, asking inaudible if he could. When you gave him a soft nod, he wasted no time, throwing your legs over his shoulders, running his tongue deliberately slowly between your folds. The moan that left you was unholy to say the least, grip in his hair tightening as he didn't give you even a second to register it all, tongue slipping into your hole. Your thighs involuntarily squeezed together, trying to chase the feeling though your tried your best to not crush him between your legs, but Seungcheol seemed to be rather enjoying it all, sucking on your clit, coaxing it just the right way. In no time, he had a shiver run down your body, everything tightening in the pits of your being as you came on his tongue and he hummed against his skin, tasting you. 
“You taste fucking good.”
“You are fucking good.” You huffed, catching your breath, pulling your legs off his shoulders. “Where did you learn to do that?” 
Seungcheol shrugged, straightening himself. “Being the Son of Zeus is not all too bad.” 
You rolled your eyes as he undid his pants and leaned down to kiss you, caging you between his arms. His erection pressed against you, causing you to grind your hips, pulling a groan out of him. 
“Take your shirt off.” You whispered as he met your hips with his, not reacting. “Let me see you Cheol.” 
And when he continued to kiss down your neck without listening, you knew something was wrong. 
“Cheol….” Hands on his chest, you pushed him back, putting some distance between the two of you so you could see his face when he winced, like it hurt. 
Swearing under your breath, you apologised, sitting up as he did, face contorted in pain. Your hands moved to undo his buttons, when he shook his head, putting his hand in between. 
“Cheol let me see.” And when he seemed stubborn as ever, you added. “Are you still going to keep hiding things from me?” 
Those words make him lower his guard, allowing you to quickly work his buttons, eyes falling in the centre of his chest. There was a large wound right in the middle, the lesion scabbed, bleeding at places, looking red and devastatingly painful. It was the mark of your fire. 
“It’s my fault.” You whispered, terrified to run your fingers all over it. “It's all my fault-”
“This is exactly why I didn’t want to…” Seungcheol sighed. “It’s not your fault Y/n, we both were foolish to not wear gear when we ventured off.”
He still thought you were blaming yourself for leading him to the Chimaera. He deserved to know that it was your fire that hurt him, he deserved the truth, just like he had given you. 
“Cheol I need to tell you something-”
“I know. I know the Chimaera was talking to you, that it told you something.” His expression wasn't as grim as you thought it would be. “But whatever it is, it can wait-”
“No it really can’t.”
“Haven’t you had enough of everything around us pulling us apart?” Seungcheol sighed. “There’s always something or the other trying to come between us when all we want is just to be with each other.”
“I know but-”
“Whatever it is can wait till we are done.” He looked at you expectantly. “Unless you insist I need to know right now.” 
You should have insisted. You should have told him the truth, but as much as it made you a hypocrite, your resolve faltered, and you shook your head. You were fully naked and halfway through things - it was already too late. If this was the last time you could have Seungcheol then you wanted to savor it. 
Relieved, Seungcheol stripped out of his shirt, trying his best to not show the pain in his face. “I’m fine, everything is fine.”
“I’m so sorry.” You whispered, as his lips found yours, your bodies reaching for the ground again, Seungcheol holding his weight from crushing you. Giving his length a few pumps, you watched as he rubbed it against your folds, ignoring your pleas before he finally pushed it into your needy hole and your walls sucked him in immediately. 
“Fuck you’re tight.” He groaned, thrusting his hips slowly. A part of you wanted him to gently make love to you like this, but another just wanted to bring that animal out of him again, the one that railed you into oblivion on the hood of his car. All parts of you though, only wanted one thing. 
“Don’t….” And from your expression, Seungcheol knew what you were asking for. You didn’t want to cum fast or cum over and over again. You just wanted him. “Please, just let me feel you.” 
And he did. Bending your knee, he wrapped your leg around his waist and you immediately followed suit with the other one, locking your ankles behind him. He moved his hips, thrusting to a rhythm of his own - sometimes it was fast, hips snapping away as his eyes were fixed on your face twisted in pleasure. Sometimes it was slow and deep, kissing you on one hand, hitting all the right spots on the other. Either way, you came around him twice, your arousal leaking out, hole sore but you didn’t ask him to stop and neither did he offer to, like he was intoxicated by being inside you. It wasn’t until he frantically asked where you wanted him to come and you tightened your legs around him that he finally stopped, coming inside you, ropes of white coating your walls and filling you up. As he came down from his high, he rolled off you, lying on his back, his chest heaving, catching its lost breath. You snuggled into his arms, careful not to touch his wounds, realising it was finally time to tell him the truth. 
But you couldn’t. Not when he wrapped his arms around you, dropping a soft kiss on your forehead, muttering something you didn’t quite hear. 
Seungcheol’s truth had fixed what was broken, but your truth would only break the two of you again….
Maybe the truth could wait. 
Maybe some things really were better left unsaid. 
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By the time the two of you returned to camp, the sun began setting behind the horizon. 
After the two of you cleaned up, packed the tent and other camping essentials, Seungcheol pulled you into his lap again, tangling his hands in your hair, kissing you. All sense of time lost, the two of you simply made out lazily, kisses interjected by laughter, laughter interjected by more kissing. Although you didn't want to part, he pressed his forehead against yours, sadly whispering, “We should go.” 
Throughout the two hour drive, neither of you spoke. You could tell he was itching to hold your hand and you longed to lean on him too but you were not in Nyx's domain anymore, you were under Zeus's skies. If two hours of distance was so difficult you wondered how the two of you would navigate the upcoming days, until Zeus decided to impart his Mark on him. But you'd do it. For him, for what was between the two of you, you'd do it. 
But the moment Seungcheol’s car entered the camp, you felt your guts twist. You couldn't place your finger on it all that well but something was very similar to the last time the two of you returned from the Forest of Nyx - all the members rushed towards the car immediately, faces looking both worried and confused. 
Seokmin rushed up to Seungcheol whispering something in his ear, the latter glancing at you concerned before asking you to follow him. Immediately, all of you headed towards the temple, murmuring amongst each other, finding Jihoon standing before the altar, two indistinguishable objects in his hand. 
“I didn't approach the Oracle.” Seungcheol frowned at Jihoon, puzzled. “How did these arrive….” 
“Well,” The Son of Apollo raised the contents in his hand. “They arrived nevertheless, one for you and one for her.”
Everyone turned to you. 
“For me?” You pointed at yourself. “What came for me?”
“Scroll of Sacrifice.” He held out a rolled piece of paper to you. “A deal, for one meeting with Goddess Hestia.” 
Stunned, you blinked at him.  
“And for you,” He turned to his chief. “A deal to receive the Mark of Zeus.”
Seungcheol and you turned to each other surprised - What was going on?
Stretching your hands out unsure, both of you reached for your respective scrolls, the paper immediately unravelling at your touch.
Written right in the middle of your paper, scribbled away in black ink was just one word, a name, one that felt like a knife was plunged into your heart - Seungcheol. 
Beside you, Seungcheol had dawned an equally painful expression on his face and over on his paper was a name too. 
Yours. 
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A/n - Phew, what a chapter, this was such a challenge to write but we finally got some cheol action hehe and the ending, yeah, I know, what can I say, its impossible for me to function without a cliffhanger :') Anyways, thank you for reading, please feel free to leave your thoughts and screams and emotions in the comments or the tags - see you in chapter 5!
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chunibyo-x-sorcerer · 9 hours ago
Text
Daichi is ready to fight until Eito chirps, letting him know that the spirit, or rather spirits are not hostile. The flame sorcerer lowers his hands.
"Hold on! You're...on the posters. The missing kids!" Daichi said. The children nodded before the boy speaks,
'Ummmm.....please don't be scared.....we....we wanted to say something before we went to rest for the last time......' the boy said but he saw the other kids looking at them.
'We...We wanna say thank you again..for setting us free. It was scary after that meanie...did to us but...we are all now free and being watched over by Mr. Choko. He said we would find you guys here....to say thank you...'
Daichi blinks to which Eito tweets. "I see. I'm glad Mr. Choko is there for you guys." He smiles.
'Though...we...he said we will be taking a long nap and maybe go to a better place after....we all can't wait to go somewhere new....but....a good nap does feel nice.....' he said before hugging his plushie.
'We even said sorry to your friends.....we didn't mean to cause trouble for you all....we were scared...but we are sorry for it..' a little girl said hiding behind the boy. 'We hope you can forgive us for scaring and hurting any of you....we didn't mean to. That's why we are saying sorry to you to show we didn't mean it. I just hope we didn't scare the others...though, the pink haired man with tattoos on his face was really nice. He was even kind to read us a story when we visited a few hours ago..'
Pink-haired guy with tattoos. Wait...Sukuna?!
"And there's a lady with tattoos as well. She plays tag with us with her big cat wolves ." That sounds like Kinie Ger. "She told us to talk to you guys in your dreams so that way you will stop having bad dreams about what happened." Said the boy as the kids nodded with a smile.. But then the boy turns sad, "Though...I did see my parents but I want to see them one more time before I go.."
Daichi kneels down hearing this, "I will tell your parents..." He said as he went to pat on the Zilla plushie, "Thank you for coming here and telling us that. I-" He has no words what to say to them. "You didn't scare us. We were scared but not because of you. We were scared of the bad things that meaning was doing." He said, referring Meko to as the meanie. "Now it's over, your nightmare is over." He said. "That said, thank you." Daichi smiles. "I think that place you're going to is going to be better place than here."
"Yeah, what's up?" Daichi looks over to see something. Eito tweets as he notices this too. He looks over to see the Zilla plushie that looks pretty old and it was set down.
"Uh...did I bring a Zilla plushie here by accident? I think I did, right?" He asked Megumi. Eito tweets. "Wait...are you saying there's something with Zilla and there is some cursed energy in it?"
"..I..don't think you did. Didn't they give you guys new ones?" Megumi said remembering.
Then he blinks to see Zilla tilt his head, "What is that?"
The Zilla plushie didn't move before some energy was showing around and growing now. Megumi was about to summon the rabbits to stop whoever it was. Maybe a curse was lingering around them. Was it a danger?! However, he got his answer seeing a little boy. It seems to be holding the Zilla plush but he saw the Rabbits to bend down looking at them. The Rabbits blinks looking at the spirit before the little boy waves at them.
".....Wait....isn't that one of the kids?" Megumi asked but saw the boy look at Megumi and Kisho while hugging the Plush. That's when a few more shows up showing the other kids. Some boys and girls.
"?!?"
'Ummmm.....please don't be scared.....we....we wanted to say something before we went to rest for the last time......' the boy said but he saw the other kids looking at them.
'We...We wanna say thank you again..for setting us free. It was scary after that meanie...did to us but...we are all now free and being watched over by Mr. Choko. He said we would find you guys here....to say thank you...' he said softly. His brown eyes were dull but the others were nervous.
'Though...we...he said we will be taking a long nap and maybe go to a better place after....we all can't wait to go somewhere new....but....a good nap does feel nice.....' he said before hugging his plushie.
'We even said sorry to your friends.....we didn't mean to cause trouble for you all....we were scared...but we are sorry for it..' a little girl said hiding behind the boy. 'We hope you can forgive us for scaring and hurting any of you....we didn't mean to. That's why we are saying sorry to you to show we didn't mean it. I just hope we didn't scare the others...though, the pink haired man with tattoos on his face was really nice. He was even kind to read us a story when we visited a few hours ago..' she said speaking of Sukuna.
932 notes · View notes
hanniebaeee · 3 days ago
Text
Code Love
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Hyunjin x fem!reader
Warnings: nothing!!
Genre: colleagues to lovers, flufffff
Summary: Hyunjin is a brilliant post doc at the lab where you're perusing your PhD. He is such a sweet and sexy genius, and you are completely in love.
a/n : For all my science/research girlies 🤭
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It was another late night at the lab. You were squinting at the test tubes in front of you trying to make sense of the results. But you were struggling to concentrate with the way your heart was pounding.
He was just sitting there, at his workstation, effortlessly spinning a pipette between his long, elegant fingers. Nothing for your dramatic heart to pound like that.
“Did you hear me, Y/N?” Hyunjin’s soft voice cut through your thoughts.
“Huh?” you blinked, attempting to act like you hadn’t just been imagining how those fingers would feel on your - never mind.
“I said,” Hyunjin grinned, “you’re incubating that reaction too long.”
“Oh, um, I knew that” you fumbled with the timer, cheeks heating up. “Totally knew that. Thanks, Hyunjin.”
“Sure, no problem,” he said, eyes sparkling like he enjoyed watching you unravel.
God, why was he like this?
That face? Those lips? And that brain? This was unfair. He had to have some flaw - how can a man be this perfect?
“Are you staying late tonight?” he asked casually, leaning back in his chair.
“I have to,” you mumbled. “This experiment is dragging on, and I have to submit the report by the end of the week.”
Hyunjin hummed, and said, “Oh good, I'll have some company then.”
You could literally see him doodling flowers into his book - he had nothing to do here. But yet every time you had to stay in late, he'd be hanging around too. Just the two of you.
Your brain immediately betrayed you, fueling your wild fantasy where he wasn’t staying late for work but because he secretly wanted to spend time alone with you. You were fighting so hard to maintain a shred of professionalism, but it was so hard when he was looking at you like that.
Hyunjin hummed softly under his breath as he continued to doodle, the sound sending tingles down your spine. Of course he was a good singer too. You just didn't understand what the universe even wanted from you anymore.
---
“I swear to God, Ji, if he twirls that pipette one more time, I’m going to launch myself across the lab bench, and just -” You were sprawled on the sofa in Jisung's apartment, sighing dramatically.
Jisung was your work bestie, working in the lab next door to yours. And he was the only one in the world who knew about your extreme devotion to Hyunjin.
Jisung burst out laughing, as he said, “This is bad, babe,”
“Bad? Jisung, I seriously can't even think when he's around.” you said. “Oh my God!!”
“Have you considered just telling him you like him?” Jisung smirked.
“Right, and ruin the perfectly good thing we have going where I pine silently while he ruins me with his brilliance? No, thank you.”
“You’re hopeless.”
---
The next late-night session happened way too soon, where Hyunjin wandered over to your bench, peering at your data from over your shoulder. He leaned in close, the scent of cologne (or whatever pheromones that he's sending your way) invading your senses - it's simply intoxicating.
“Want me to take a look at that?” he asked, “You've been spending way too much time on it.”
“Yeah,” you muttered, trying not to stutter. “It’s just...a lot of noise in the data.”
“Let me see,” he said, pulling a stool next to you. He reached for the keyboard, and your heart fluttered as his fingers brushed yours.
You wanted to cry. Please don't be so sweet and sexy at the same time, you begged internally. You cursed your body for betraying you with every glance while he explained what he was doing. You could feel the tension in your shoulders as you tried to focus on what he was saying.
Get a grip, Y/N, you reminded yourself. This is professional. Stop fantasizing about this ridiculously hot man who’s inexplicably obsessed with helping you.
When he finally looked up, you realized you’d been staring at him the whole time.
“What?” he asked, a faint smile tugging at his lips.
“Nothing... thanks. You’re really good at this,” you stammered.
He tilted his head, studying you for a moment.
“You’re good at this too, Y/N. We all have our bad days. Don’t sell yourself short.” he said, patting your shoulder gently before standing up.
You felt your heart squeeze at the sincerity in his tone, and you watched as he went back to his own seat.
Stop it. He’s being nice. Don’t read into it. Just focus on the work.
But it was so hard not to read into it. The way he leaned closer when he spoke, the way his fingersa brushed against yours when he passed you something, and the way he was always so soft with you.
Don’t think about it. Don’t think about it.
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“Y/N, I’m begging you. BEGGING. Tell him. I'm sure he's dying to hear it.” Jisung said, smiling at the girl who handed over our coffees at the cafe.
“You don’t get it! I can't risk it, if he's just being nice, then -”
“Babe,” Jisung drawled, “what world do you live in?!”
“Don’t give me hope, Ji.” you sighed as you walked towards your lab, the early morning breeze cool against your skin.
“Hope? The man stays late every time you do, flirts with you nonstop, and compliments you after he does your work for you. At this point, I’m falling for him,” Jisung said, throwing his hands up. “Seriously, babe, if you don’t jump him soon, I might.”
---
The cold room was your least favorite part of the lab. You hated everything about it - the freezing temperature, its claustrophobic size and the damn protein extraction procedure that drained the life out of you.
But here you were, miserably clutching your samples and praying for the nightmare to end soon.
“Y/N?” Hyunjin’s voice echoed through the door as it opened, and you turned to see him stepping in.
Great. Now you were cold and flustered.
“How's the extraction going?” he asked, his tone light as he slipped on his gloves.
“Going wonderfully,” you muttered, shivering despite your layers.
He grinned, coming closer and watching you work.
“Do you want me to take over?” He asked, making you sigh.
“And miss out on the joy of freezing to death? Never,” you joked weakly, and Hyunjin laughed. “You're too nice, Hyunjin. But I've got this.”
“Nice?” he repeated, leaning back slightly but still watching you intently. “You sure about that?”
You froze, suddenly way too aware of how close he was standing. Was he teasing you? Was this flirting?
“I- I mean, yeah,” you stammered, breaking eye contact. “You’re always helping me...”
“Maybe I have my reasons.” Hyunjin tilted his head, his smile softening.
Your heart leapt into your throat as you asked, “Reasons?”
Before he could answer, the door swung open.
“How's your favorite experiment going?” Jisung's loud voice floated in. “Oh, hi Hyunjin!”
You didn't know if you wanted to strangle Jisung for ruining the moment or hug him for saving you from it.
Hyunjin, ever the sweetheart, just laughed and said, “Hi Jisung, I think she's doing just fine,”
“Of course she is,” Jisung said, moving aside for Hyunjin to step out.
“What was that?” He asked as soon as Hyunjin left.
“What are you doing here?!” you hissed. “We were getting somewhere, but also, if you hadn't come I would've fainted. Like I feel so dizzy, my gloves are all wet from sweating-”
“Y/N,” Jisung said, gripping your shoulders and shaking you lightly. “You like him. He obviously likes you. The universe is literally freezing you together in this cold room to force you to act. Next time, please -”
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It was barely 5 am, and you groaned as you shuffled into the lab, your hair in a messy bun and sleep still stinging your eyes. But the bacterial cultures didn’t care about your sleep schedule - or lack thereof.
Throwing on your lab coat and gloves with the grace of a zombie, you started checking the growth plates with bleary eyes.
You’d barely managed to finish when Jisung strolled in, carrying two steaming cups of coffee.
“Morning, Sleeping Beauty,” he teased, setting a cup in front of you.
“I love you, Ji,” you muttered, taking the first sip and feeling a spark of life return to your body. “I don't know why I wanted to be a scientist.”
Jisung plopped down next to you, snickering, and started scrolling through his phone while you leaned your head against his shoulder. And he rested his head against yours, before placing a quick peck on your temple.
You were starting to fall asleep, when the lab door creaked open.
You both glanced up to see Hyunjin walk in. His cheeks were pink from the cold and he stopped at the door for a second, his eyes fixed on you.
“Morning,” he greeted, and you gave him a small wave, still too sleepy to form words. Jisung returned the greeting, and then left quickly.
You noticed Hyunjin’s smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. That's new. He moved to his workstation, setting down his bag and pulling out his laptop.
You sat up straighter, something about Hyunjin’s silence gnawing at you. He didn’t even glance your way, which was unusual.
Hyunjin, meanwhile, was battling a whirlwind of emotions. He knew you and Jisung were close friends - you’d mentioned it so many times. But seeing the way your head rested against his shoulder and Jisung had kissed your temple - it just looked way too intimate. Too cosy.
He hated feeling this way, especially when you weren’t his to begin with. Still, the disappointment twisted in his chest and he didn't know what to do about it. So he focused on his work.
But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t stop his gaze from drifting back to you.
---
You let it go on till about noon. But it was killing you - you weren't used to this kind of behavior from Hyunjin and it was starting to stress you out. So summoning your courage, you walked over to Hyunjin and said, “Hey,”
He glanced up, his expression neutral as he said, “Hey.”
“You okay?” you asked, trying to keep your tone light. “You're so...quiet.”
“I’m fine. Just a lot on my mind.” Hyunjin said, giving you a small smile.
“You sure?” you pressed, feeling a strange pang of hurt.
He nodded, but his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Yeah. Don’t worry about me.”
You stood there for a moment, unsure of what to say. He was being so distant, and it left a strange, hollow ache in your chest. Finally, you gave him a small nod and walked back to your seat, feeling totally crushed by his uncharacteristic coolness.
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Hyunjin’s silence stretched into the next day. And the day after that. In fact he hadn't spoken more than a couple of words to you in the past two days. And it hurt so much, considering the fact that you don't even know why he was doing this all of a sudden.
You tried to brush it off at first. Maybe he was just busy, or stressed. But the space he was putting between you felt deliberate, like he was doing this on purpose.
Hyunjin, on the other hand, was crumbling inside. He adored you. And that too for long enough that the thought of losing you was nearly unbearable.
You and Jisung were so close. And you looked so comfortable. He couldn't take it. He wasn't going to let his heart shatter like that.
So, he’d made a decision: if he couldn’t have you, he’d rather step back than risk the heartbreak of watching you fall for someone else. Even if it meant burying his feelings.
---
The next morning, you were back in the cold room. You’d been trying to salvage your protein extraction for hours, but nothing was going right. Your hands were trembling as you loaded yet another sample, and your vision blurred with tears of frustration.
“This is so stupid,” you whispered to yourself, your voice cracking. “Why can’t anything just go right for once?”
You sniffled, wiping your cheek with your sleeve, as you continued your monologue.
“I just want my Jinnie back. Why does he hate me now? What did I do wrong?” your voice wavered as you spoke through your tears.
What you didn't see was that the cold room door had opened quietly, and Hyunjin had stepped inside. He froze at the sound of your voice, his chest tightening at the sadness in your words.
Your Jinnie?
Your name slipped from his lips, soft and hesitant, “Y/N?”
You stiffened, your body freezing and your heart racing as you heard his voice.
“What?” you croaked, refusing to turn around, too mortified to meet his eyes.
“Why are you crying?” Hyunjin asked, taking a step closer.
You shook your head, refusing to face him.
“Why do you care?” You asked, and it broke his heart to see you wipe your tears.
“Please don't say that, of course I care-”
“It’s nothing. Just this stupid experiment. And... everything else.”
“Y/N,” he said again, his voice firmer now. “Please. Talk to me.”
You gripped the edge of the table, your knuckles turning white.
“I can’t do this anymore, Hyunjin,” you whispered. “I can’t keep pretending everything’s fine when it’s not. You won't even talk to me, and it’s killing me. I just... I just want my Hyunjinnie back. Just stop hurting me like this.”
The silence that followed was deafening. You felt the tears spill over again, your shoulders trembling as you waited for him to say something. Anything.
And then you felt it.
Warmth. His strong arms wrapping around you from behind, his chest pressing against your back as he pulled you into a tight embrace.
You gasped softly, frozen for a moment before leaning into him, your tears falling freely now.
“I’m sorry,” Hyunjin whispered, his voice trembling as he buried his face in your shoulder. “I’m so, so sorry.”
You turned your head slightly, just enough to catch a glimpse of his face.
“Why are you mad at me?” you asked. “Did I do something wrong?”
“No,” he said quickly, his hold on you tightening. “It wasn’t you. It was me. I was scared.”
“Scared of what?”
“Of losing you,” he admitted, his voice barely audible. “I thought... I thought you and Jisung -”
“Jisung?” you repeated, blinking in confusion. “You know he’s my best friend, Hyunjin. He's like a brother to me.”
“I thought I was protecting myself,” he admitted, his lips close to your ear. “I thought I’d lose you to Jisung, and I couldn’t handle it. But I didn’t realize... I didn’t realize I was hurting you in the process.”
“I can't believe you never saw me thirsting over you, Hyunjin” you said, your voice incredulous. “What are you even saying?!”
Hyunjin let out a shaky laugh, burying his face into your neck. “God, I’m an idiot.”
“You are,” you sniffled, though your tone was softer now.
He pulled back just enough to turn you around, his hands gently cupping your cheeks.
“I love you, Y/N. I’ve loved you for so long. And I was so scared- ” he stopped short as he saw the look on your face.
“You... you love me?”
“I adore you,” he said, giving you a shy smile.
You let out a breathless laugh, the weight on your chest lifting for the first time in days.
“I love you too, Hyunjin. So damn much.”
His smile widened, and before you could say another word, he asked, “Can I... can I kiss you?”
“Yes,” you whispered, and when his lips met yours, it was the most beautiful thing in the world. He kissed you so softly (even though you just wanted to eat him up.)
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You both stepped out of the cold room together, the door clicking shut behind you. Your cheeks were flushed, your lips swollen from the kiss, and as you glanced at Hyunjin, you saw he was in no better shape.
You didn't get to take another step forward as the door to your lab opened and Jisung's head popped in.
His eyes flicked between you and Hyunjin and you could hear the gears turning in his head as he tried to piece together what he was seeing. And then he smirked.
You glared at him, because you know that look on his face, and Hyunjin just stood there, his arms crossed and a smile that said “I got what I wanted".
“Congratulations,” Jisung said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “I’m so happy for you both. But oh my god, you two idiots…”
The grin on his face was priceless. He was enjoying this way too much.
“I swear, if you don’t shut up -” You swatted him on the arm.
Jisung winced dramatically but couldn’t hide his laughter.
“What? You guys make an adorable couple... but honestly, you both are just so dumb.”
Well, you couldn't agree more.
Tags: @moonchild9350 @velvetmoonlght
234 notes · View notes
disgustingtwitches · 3 days ago
Text
A Rose in Harlem
Simon Riley is an enigma—a brooding, complex man with a shadowed past that he can’t escape. You’re just an ordinary person until he claws his way into your life and you can't help but give in to him. The only problem is that you try to keep things casual, while Simon's never been one to settle for that.
Long live the rose that grew from concrete, when no one else ever cared.
Masterlist
PART 3
(He longs to be) Close to you
***
You freeze, heart pounding, the moment shattered. Who the fuck is that? You think to yourself, panic creeping in. Another knock then a familiar, playful voice from the other side of the door.
“Bitch! I know you're home!”
“Oh my God. Ishta.”
You completely forgot about your little watch party with her. This can't be happening now. Of course it's happening right now.
“Hm, that a girlfriend I don't know about?”
Simon murmurs, nuzzling his face to your neck.
“You need to go.”
Your voice is low, urgent, but it only seems to amuse him. His hands wrap around your waist, pumping his hips upwards, rubbing himself against your soaked underwear.
“What, you're kicking me out? Just like that?”
He nips at your neck, making you yeep. He tightens his hold, long arms locking you in.
You tense, trying to wiggle from him but him and his stupidly defined arms aren't budging.
“I'm serious; you need to leave, now.”
You twist in his arms, your anxiety growing as Ishta's knocking gets louder. She's never been patient.
You can feel his lips curve into a smile.
“You're tense, should relax a bit.”
“Relax?! Oh my God, I'm gonna kill you.”
You snap in a hushed tone, yanking yourself free (well, more like he finally relents and lets you go). You tug your shorts up while he follows suit, much more leisurely than you. He quips while letting you drag him towards the fire escape,
“Can't believe I'm the other woman, thought I was special, angel.”
“You're not making this easy.”
“Mistresses rarely do.”
Simon smirks, while you pull him to the window. Ishta knocks again, louder this time.
“Stop jerking off, the ice cream is melting!”
Simon snickers and you push him through the window onto the fire escape. His large frame steps out, stretching out while he turns to you.
“What? No kiss goodbye?”
“Simon!”
He doesn't budge until you lean out the window, planting a quick, chaste kiss on his scared lips. His hand cups the back of your neck, practically shoving his tongue down your throat, before you wrench yourself away.
“Bye.”
The words come out harsher than you mean while you shut the window, watching him slip into his place, not trusting him to sneak back into yours.
Ishta's voice whines from behind your front door. You smooth out your clothes, pasting a sheepish, wide smile. You take a deep breath before opening your door.
“Hey girl! Sorry I-”
“Was jerking off thinking about your neighbor? I know girl. Get that nut in friend.”
She empties her tote, sets some wine bottles down and grabs two cups from the kitchen before bending to sit on the couch. You wince watching her try to sit where his bare ass was.
“Oh! No don't-”
She looks at you curiously, frozen mid-squat— your brain scrambling to find something remotely plausible.
“I spilled tuna juice there earlier.”
She narrows her eyes at you, searching your face. She must be satisfied with what she sees because she shrugs and moves to the other side.
“Can't smell fishy. Got a date later.”
She pops open a bottle, pouring a generous amount into each cup. You grab the one she offers and take a seat on the arm of the couch.
“A date, huh? Is it that finance guy from last month?”
She rolls her eyes, turning on the TV.
“Oh God, no. He was so fucking annoying, trust fund baby.”
You laugh a little, grateful for her not pressing you on the couch thing.
“So who's the lucky guy?”
She waves her hand vaguely, her attention already on the TV, looking for a show.
“Met him at the park. He was jogging—shirtless, obviously—and tripped over his own fucking shoelaces. Adorable. Total himbo vibes.”
You raise an eyebrow, smiling into your glass.
“Thought you liked nerds.”
“That's the thing,”
She turned to you, grinning like a fool.
“Ok so, we were talking about showers,”
“Naturally.”
“Naturally. Anyways, he starts going on about different hypotheses of 'the shower curtain effect' with this dumbass smile on his face. I'm trying not to stare at his tits and just ask him if he wants drinks before I start drooling. Obviously, he says yes, and here we are!”
She finishes her glass and helps herself to another. You lean closer to her.
“So what's the plan? Drinks, talk about nerdy shit, and then stumble into his place and ogle at his star wars figurines?”
“First off all,”
She raises a finger.
“He’s an artist, so get it right. And secondly, he's Scottish. So like, the accent makes everything hotter.”
You hum curiously.
“My apologies, I clearly underestimated his international flare.”
“You did. Also, you're welcome for letting you live vicariously through me, by the way.”
She flips her hair over her shoulder.
“Oh, oohh my goodness. Thank you for your graciousness.”
You say in mock appreciation, hand over your heart. Her eyes twinkle when she winks at you.
“Freely granted, my dear. I'll text you all the juicy details.”
“Lucky me.”
You say dryly, swirling your wine glass. Ishta lightly hits your knee.
“Look at us. You got your English guy, I got my Scottish one. Just gotta snatch up an Irish and Welsh one, and we've got a whole set!”
“Please be serious, girl. Also, he's not ‘my guy’, he's just a neighbor.”
“Uh-huh, keep telling yourself that. We'll see how long that lasts.”
***
You've been more moody lately. From Ishta unintentionally cock-blocking you, to work being particularly demanding, and finally, Simon terrorizing you relentlessly.
Ever since ‘the incident’ he's been on you like white on rice. He'll stop you in the mornings in the foyer and casually talk about how he came to the thought of you last night or stand behind you in the elevator and grind up against you, laxly apologizing.
“Sorry. It's just such a tight fit here, right angel?”
You silently thank God Simon has the sense to pull these stunts when no one else is around to witness his brand of debauchery (he doesn't, you just got lucky no one's there when he pulls that shit).
You're barely holding onto your patience. Every word he says, every deliberate touch grates on your nerves. He has you on edge, dangling by a thread. A simple nudge could send you tumbling— yet he never quite gives it. Instead, he leaves you like this, toeing the line.
Waiting. Waiting on you to make the jump.
It kind of surprises you, given the whole…incident. You expected him to follow you into your apartment one day and finally consummate whatever twisted, simmering thing you had going on. But he didn't. Seemed to enjoy making you squirm.
***
You could almost forget about him during the day. Almost. Work has been a circus lately, thanks to your boss—the museum curator who seems to thrive on chaos. She’s brilliant, yes, but she’s also impossible. Barking orders, demanding perfection, treating every missed detail like a personal betrayal. You spend your mornings running errands and your afternoons fielding phone calls from artists who need their egos stroked. The only moment of reprieve is when you’re in the gallery itself, away from the madness, the artwork pulling you into a quiet, timeless space.
But even that doesn’t last. Today, you spent hours installing a new piece—a massive, fragile sculpture—and as soon as it was in place, she decided it needed to be moved six inches to the left. Six inches. By the time you got home, your nerves were frayed, your patience long gone.
He’d been waiting in the lobby when you arrived, as if he knew you’d had a long day. His presence suffocating, his voice a low murmur in your ear as he stood too close, his hand brushing your hip when you reached for the elevator button.
“You look tense, angel.”
“Simon, please.”
“‘Please?’ Wow, must've been really bad today.”
He chuckles to himself, like he's so fucking funny.
You rub your eyes, the tired dryness a reminder of the day you'd had. He sees this as an invitation to step behind you and wrap his arms around you. Large frame towering over you, long arms sliding around you.
“Not in the mood for this today, Simon.”
You mutter, void of its usual bite.
You don't even have the energy to push him away when he plants a kiss on the side of your neck, softer than the last time his lips touched your skin.
“So sweet when you're tired out. Wonder if you're like this after-”
The elevator dings and you pull away, pushing his head off your shoulder and trudging to your place. At this point, you're too drained to care about his games, too tired to rise to the bait.
If he wasn't going to stop playing, wasn't going to do anything but pussyfoot around, you had better things to do—like collapse on your bed and sleep for 12 hours straight.
You reach your door and fumble with your keys, cursing under your breath when they decide now is the perfect time to be elusive in your bag.
“Need help?”
You don’t jump. You’re too used to that voice coming from behind you, low and amused. His words echo in your head more than you’d like to admit these days.
“No.”
You say, sharp enough to bite through the air as you finally fish the keys out and shove one into the lock.
It sticks. Of course, it sticks.
He says something you ignore while he leans against the side of the doorframe, watching you struggle. Your head lands on the door with a soft thud, forehead pressing against the cool metal.
“You’ve been quiet tonight. Not like you to let me have the last word.”
“I’m too tired for this.”
“For what?”
“For your bullshit.”
You spit, jiggling the key rougher than necessary.
Simon hums, entertained.
“There she is. Was worried I lost you for a minute.”
The key refuses to turn. Between him looking over your shoulder and the fucking door mocking you, your patience starts to shred, gossamer-thin.
When the door finally opens, you turn to him.
“Do you ever shut up?”
He shrugs.
“Not when I’m having this much fun.”
“You call this fun?”
“Watching you fight with a door? Yeah, a little bit. Had my money on the door though, unfortunately.”
You swear his grin is almost audible under that mask.
Your eyes narrow, heated.
“Don't you have somewhere else to be?”
He doesn't miss a beat.
“No, actually. Not tonight.”
“Of course not, when do you ever?”
You mutter, yanking your keys out of the lock.
“Just keeping the schedule free for you, love.”
“Free to annoy me?”
“Something like that.”
Your eyes drift from his face down to his arms crossed over his chest. His compression shirt doesn't help, the material stretching in a way that feels obscene.
Then while he watches you stare, he flexes subtly.
It pulls a laugh out of you, the sound slipping out before you can help it,
“Whore.”
He pulls his mask down, showing off his own smile. His canines sharp and slightly crooked, but somehow it makes him more attractive. Like he doesn't just accept his imperfections, but wears them proudly, fully aware of their charm.
“Just for you, angel.”
“Your persistence is coming off pathetic.”
You huff half-hearted, crossing your arms.
“Doesn't seem to bother you much.”
Simon goads. You think this is the happiest you've ever seen him.
“It does.”
You lick your teeth, feigning irritation. He mirrors the movement, finishing it off with a smile that makes your face hot.
“Go on then,”
His voice drops lower, thick and languid, molasses poured slow on a hot day.
“Tell me how you really feel.”
It's quiet for a moment. He tilts his head, eyes glinting and the edge you've been teetering on crumbles underneath you, all reservations and restraint gone. You grip the strings of his hoodie and pull him down to your face.
“You're insufferable.”
“Yes.”
“A tease.”
“Mhm.”
“Worst neighbor I've ever had.”
“Ouch.”
He says, though his tone is anything but wounded. If anything, it sounds downright gleeful.
“Makes me wanna do awful things to you.”
You say in a hushed tone, a newfound energy pumping through your veins. The space between you grows smaller as you tug him even closer, his hands instinctively finding your waist, steadying both of you.
“Yeah,”
His voice is low, molten. A scorching heat that flows from his mouth down your chest and stomach.
“Probably use those pretty little hands, leave marks. Bruises I'd feel every time I breathe.”
You twirl the strings around your fingers, leading him into your place. It feels like tugging on a leash tied to a dangerous dog— wild and unpredictable, tethered to you and you only. He catches the door before it slams shut, closing it without looking, dark eyes honed in on you. Makes your stomach do flips.
“You'd like that, wouldn't you?”
His silence is answer enough, a smirk playing on his face. You muse, shoving him toward the couch with a playful push,
“Maybe I'd keep it simple, knife to the heart. If I could find it.”
He spreads out on the cushions, pulling you to him, making you straddle one of his thick thighs.
“Sounds painful, tell me more.”
“Maybe I'd tie you up. Make you beg for your life.”
When you say that, he groans— an honest-to-god groan and his grip on your hips tightens.
“It’d be hard, getting through all that muscle and bone,”
He grabs your wrist, making you press two fingers on the hard, fast pulse right under his jaw.
“Be quicker and easier to hit it right here. Faster way to go out.”
You cock your head to the side, biting back a moan feeling the beat of the vein under his skin go impossibly fast when you hum.
“Think I'm gonna go easy on you?”
His response is instant, almost desperate if you thought he was capable of that emotion.
“I hope to God not.”
He wraps himself around you, pressing you up against his solid frame like he's trying to meld his body to yours.
***
He's been at this for long, too long. He hasn't even taken off either of your pants, all too happy to have you grinding your pants against his denim. It's got you so pent up, you're half crazed, panting in the crook of his neck and mumbling pleas for relief.
“Want you, Simon.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
He shakes his head and you groan in frustration.
“Been a real brat lately, can't reward that kind of behavior.”
“Pleasepleaseplease-”
“Sound so pretty, begging for me.”
You're trying anything at this point. Anything but ripping his clothes off. Or yours.
“Don't you wanna feel good too?”
Your tone is so dulcet, it's almost too sweet in your mouth, words dripping with a carefully calculated innocence. You play with the waistband of his jeans, before you can get too far he takes hold of your wrist.
“I know what you're trying to do.”
There's a pause while you pull back to look at him, a sheepish smile on your face.
“Is it working?”
“Hmm…”
“Simon!”
You huff, almost whiny. He relents, only a little, bouncing you on his thigh once before forcing your hips to grind down harder on him. It makes you lean into him again, he presses a soft kiss on your temple, the kind of gesture that feels almost like he's mocking you with a false sense of soothing. As if he feels bad for you—his touch gentle but somehow condescending.
“Poor thing, could've gotten it sooner if you wanted to. Closed mouths don't get fed, you know?”
He sounds amused, lips still brushing against your temple. Your mouth finds its way to his neck, he lulls his head back, giving you more access to it. It's sweet, tender, starting at his collarbone and moving up slowly until you get to the artery he made you press up against earlier. The moment your teeth press up against it, he comes undone.
“Gaggin’ for it that bad?”
The sound of his belt clicking makes you downright giddy, you lick his neck, feeling his heartbeat under your tongue.
“Mhm…”
He grabs your hand to shove it down his pants and your brain goes static for a moment.
“Had me waiting all this time, and now you want it?”
It's growled into your ear, something about the way it's almost spat out, mean—it sends jolts of electricity between your legs.
“C'mon, show me how much you missed it.”
Your face heats up at his words and he lets out an entertained huff.
“He missed you too, ya know.”
A breathless giggle escapes you when he flexes, making his dick jump in your hands. You pull him out of his pants, eyes going wide. You've felt how big he was before, but seeing it was a whole different thing. Made it all real. Something about the way his pink tip peeked out made you laugh a little, a fleeting thought of him blushing everywhere, even on his dick.
“What?”
He furrows his brows a little, curious.
The truth tumbles out of you before you can stop it. You think you've made a mistake until you see him. His face is unreadable at first, and you brace for some sharp quip or a look of annoyance.
But instead, Simon’s reaction is… different. His ears go pink first, followed by a deep flush creeping up his neck. You want to laugh again but he creeps a hand up your spine to the back of your neck, guiding you into light kisses. You still manage to slip out a few giggles in-between, a smile creeping up across his face. It's such a warm moment, you almost forget about holding him until he twitches in your hands.
“Got the prettiest laugh.”
“Is there anything that you don't think is pretty about me?”
You ask, teasing him.
“No.”
His answer is quick, unwavering, and so serious that it makes your breath catch. You search his face, expecting the usual smirk or a sly remark, but there’s nothing there but honesty. He clears his throat, the faintest flicker of vulnerability flashing in his eyes before he tries to mask it.
“Right, let's get these off.”
He guides you off him so you can stand, he shimmies your pants and underwear off. Once you kick off the fabric pooled around your feet he leans forward, breath hot on your mons.
“Missed her.”
He says so quietly, almost to himself.
“Your pretty girl?”
You run a hand over his buzz cut, and he grips the sides of your bare thighs.
“Yeah…my pretty girl.”
A wet kiss on your most sensitive spot makes your legs tense up. He traces slow, indulgent circles, like this was more for him than you. The tension in your body mounting with every flick of his tongue.
He goes on like this until your knees almost give way from a quick, hard suck. He holds you up with a strong grip under the crease of your ass.
“Think you can stand on your own for a minute, love?”
You’re far past the point of throwing a smart remark his way, your body humming with the tension he’s left simmering under your skin. Instead, you nod quickly, eagerly.
“So good for me, angel. How'd I get so lucky, hm?”
It’s less a question and more an indulgence, the kind of thing he says to soak in the moment while he shoves his pants down to his thighs. When he pulls you towards him, guiding you to settle on his lap, just brushing his tip over your slick entrance, you follow without hesitation—soft, pliant, docile.
“Such a sweet thing. Only for me, right?”
Before you get to answer, he drags your hips down, pushing himself inside you. The stretch borders on discomfort—not just because it's been a while, but because he's thicker than anyone you've ever had before.
It's all so overwhelming— his voice, his touch, his body—all glut and heavy with want. The weight of it crashes over you, leaving you dizzy, untethered. Every word he speaks seeps into your skin, warm and lingering, while his hands, firm yet reverent, treat you like something both fragile and fiercely desired.
When he slides you down more, you tense up. Thighs flexing, clenching around him. It draws a curse from him,
“Fuck…yeah, only for me.”
The moment is so much softer than you imagined it to be—aside from him trying to lick the inside of your mouth. It's coos and words of encouragement,
“Look at you, taking it like a big girl,”
“Bet you needed this as much as I did,”
Big, rough hands gliding up and down your body, squeezing gently. Slow, deep strokes sink into you until you're a shaking mess, arms wrapped around him, clinging onto him like he's your lifeline, mumbling nonsense into his neck. He's taking full advantage of the moment, of course, his voice low and dripping with amusement as he watches you come undone for him.
"Gonna be like this all the time now, pet?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Only like this for me, yeah?”
“Mhm.”
You whisper, the words spilling out as easily as your control.
“No one else gets to touch you like this, huh?”
“Uhn-uh.”
Your lips brushing against his neck, your heartbeat hammering against his chest, sweat slick against the skin.
And it goes on like this, making empty promises with the devil. Signing yourself away with no hesitation, no second thoughts. Because he kisses you so tenderly it makes you flutter everywhere. Because the way he lifts you up just to buck his hips up into you makes your brain leak out of your ears. Because here, pressed against him, drowning in his voice and touch, there's nowhere else you'd rather be.
He hits that spot that makes your nerves taught. You're a string wound up too tight, his name spilling from your mouth again and again, each time more ragged, a little more whiny and desperate, until it finally snaps. You shatter, the force knocking the air from your lungs while he throws his head back, your name leaking out like it's the only word he knows. You're overstimulated, thighs burning and shaking while he ruts into you. You're pushing him with flimsy arms, whining about how ‘it's too much’. That only seems to egg him on, though, spurring him to murmur filth between honeyed kisses,
“Gonna ruin you for anyone else,”
“Split you apart everyday and you'll fucking thank me for it, won't you?”
He doesn't even look for an answer from you, more than happy to bask in the mess he made of you. A few more strokes has him choking mid-sentence, sinking so deep inside you think he might've been serious about splitting you apart.
It's quiet for a moment, save for the heavy breaths shared between the two of you
“You with me, angel?”
He sighs, his lips press against the skin right over your heart. He lingers, sucking softly, the kind of pressure that's going to leave the skin tender for days—a reminder of him.
You nod, barely able to find your voice, but he waits-patient, his hands wrapping around yours.
"Yeah…”
You finally manage, squeezing a hand that completely engulfs yours, brushing against it with your thumb.
"Good,"
He whispers, his lips brushing against yours again.
"That's all I need.”
And in the back of your mind, as his touch lingers, there's a small fleeting thought:
Oh, you're fucked.
prev |
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aerospectrum · 21 hours ago
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Dean tilted his head up towards the sky and forced out a heavy sigh filled with tension and regret and frustration and fear and remorse… it was chock full of emotions he didn’t want to feel or deal with. This was the furthest from the kind of night he wanted, it was the furthest thing away from his he wanted Madison to feel. Even letting his anger over the concept of her getting into her car drunk overpowered his ability to speak calmly— all he could think was how many people he’d scraped off the road from their “it won’t happen to me” endeavors.
She was fast, he’d give her that much, but he was faster. He collected her heels and took off after her to make sure she didn’t pull a move like the deer and run her way into oncoming traffic. “Fuck!” He wheezed out on the winds of her racing feet. “Madison, stop!” He screamed, the anger had dissipated entirely to something he couldn’t pinpoint. Fear? Panic? Genuine concern that she would hurt herself? All of it maybe. “Stop, you’re gonna hurt yourself goddammit!” He shouted again, reaching out and latching onto her wrist.
He didn’t know what else to do, he pulled her sharply towards himself to throw her off balance and in one smooth and fluid motion he scooped her right up off her feet and bridal style into his arms. She could fight if she really wanted, but he just wanted her safe and if that got him put in a worser timeout then so be it. Dean would never hurt Madison, but the fact that she saw him as a harmful man.. it brought the vibrancy of his eye color out; magnified by the fact genuine tears of angry distress hung on his lashes. Though none fell, he wouldn’t allow that. “I’m not gonna hurt you—- I’m not your psycho ex- I don’t go around hurting women, would you just listen to me! For once would you and Cas just split the single fucking braincell you both share and listen to me! I’m not going to hurt you!” His voice cracked and his eyes remained locked on her.
It was a shame really. Because she could hear the words Dean was saying & maybe she would’ve been able to process them. Maybe.
But when he spun her around & pressed her up against the car door, she froze. Her eyes widened & panic set in. Dean was yelling & she was cornered. No where to run or hide, no one to protect her. She sniffled & the louder he got the more she shrank until she was shaking like a scared puppy.
He yelled about the phone calls & she covered her face. Cowering away & crying, “IM SORRY!” she cried, not able to hear what else he was saying. “I’m sorry I’m sorry please don’t hurt me. I’m sorry.”
She the keys in her hands were warm & sweaty from the tension, she tossed them into deans chest. “I’m sorry I’m sorry take them I’m sorry please don’t hurt me.” W/ all her strength she shoved Dean aside & took off running. She managed to kick off her heels in the process & just ran. She didn’t know what direction. Just anywhere.
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hottiesforhockey · 1 day ago
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naughty or nice ⎜n.hischier
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🎄pairings: nico hischier x afab!reader ⎜ platonic jack hughes x afab!reader 🎄genre: smut ⎜romance ⎜ colleagues - to - lovers ⎜fake dating⎜ 🎄warnings: mentions of creepy boss ⎜ inappropriate touching ⎜ car sex ⎜ no mentions of protection - wrap it before you tap it ⎜ nico getting feisty ⎜ 🎄synopsis: You just wanted to avoid your creepy coworker, you didn’t know you would have to rely on an a "stranger" to be your fake boyfriend. 🎄word count: 5.7k 🎄authors note:  this is the second last in my christmas special series, it is a rewrite of an old kpop fic I wrote but I hope you all still enjoy - next up is DDD with quinn hughes (not to mention my NYE John Marino fic) I hope you all enjoy, cause I know I did!
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“The Christmas party will be held on Friday night at seven o’clock.” You boss begins concluding the meeting, shuffling his own papers into a pile before looking up at the group. “No kids permitted but partners are welcomed.” He adds looking at each of his team leaders, his eyes landing on you at the end of the table, “I look forwards to meeting everyone’s significant others.” Your bosses eye linger for a second too long before he calls your name,  “Would you mind staying for a little bit longer?” You nod in response, pretending to organise your papers as your other colleagues shuffle out of the meeting room. 
“So, are we going to be expecting your boyfriend to be attending this year?” You boss asks as the last person leaves the meeting room, the door swinging closed. You let out a quiet sigh as you turn towards you boss, a tight smile on your face. “You two have been together for a while now and we’ve never met him.” You boss continues, taking a few long strides till he stand in front of you. “I just find it funny, is all.” He tries to explain. 
You take deep breaths as you try to force yourself to stay still, the older man tucking a long piece of hair behind you ear. To him you’re sure the gesture seemed sweet and romantic, but to you it was a threat, a show of power. 
“I’ll see what I can do. He works night shifts so it’s hard to rearrange his schedule.” You say lightly, holding your papers tight to your chest, trying your hardest not to watch as your boss gazes over your body. 
“Well I expect him to be there…” You boss says, and you let out a breath thinking he would take the hint, but your body tenses again as he leans forwards, his lips pressing just below your ear, “otherwise I’ll have to assume you’re lying to me.” You continue to smile as your boss glances at you one more time before sauntering out of the room, your body falling into one of the table chairs, a shiver running up your spine. 
“Maybe I am lying to you, you absolute piece of garbage.” You hiss, wanting to cry out the frustration of your creepy boss. “What kind of disgusting, egotistical maniac think they can touch their employe— oh hey Jack.” You stop yourself short in your rant, only just noticing the stoic faced man who walks into the room. 
You feel your cheeks flush as Jack closes the door behind him, his expression unreadable. He’s always been hard to read, but right now, his quiet demeanour feels more intimidating than comforting.
“How long have you been standing there?” you ask, trying to sound casual as you scramble to sit up straighter in your chair. Your voice trembles slightly, betraying your nerves.
Jack doesn’t answer immediately. He moves to the chair across from you and sits down, elbows on his knees, hands clasped together. His dark eyes lock onto yours, and you shift uncomfortably under his gaze.
“Long enough,” he finally says, his voice low but steady. “What the hell was that about?” You swallow hard, feeling your throat tighten. The last thing you want is to talk about what just happened, but Jack’s not going to let it go. He’s your best friend — well to be honest he’s your only friend — and he knows you too well to believe any excuse you might try to come up with.
“It’s nothing,” you mumble, looking down at your hands as you fiddle with the edge of your stack of papers.
Jack’s jaw tightens. “Don’t lie to me,” he says firmly. “Does he do that often?” You feel your stomach churn as the memory of your boss’s hand brushing against your hair comes rushing back. You hug the papers tighter to your chest, as if they’re a shield that can protect you from the humiliation and fear bubbling inside you.
“It’s fine,” you say quietly. “He’s just overly friendly.” You dismiss,  Jack leans back in his chair, running a hand through his hair. He looks frustrated, but there’s something else in his expression—something softer, more vulnerable.
“You shouldn’t have to deal with that,” he says after a long pause. “You shouldn’t have to put up with that creep by yourself, maybe you should tell someone about it.”
“I’ve been to HR, he’s my direct supervisor so no one will do anything. He’s my boss, Jack, there is nothing I can do except suck it up.” You rub your face lightly, trying to ignore the way Jack watches you with concern. 
“What about Nico?” Jack says softly. You head whipping towards him in surprise. 
“What about him?” You ask confused about where he was going with his suggestion. 
“People take his opinion pretty seriously and I’m sure if you asked him for help he would do his best.” Everyone and their mother knew that Nico was a good guy, and good guys do everything they can to help anyone they can and you knew Nico had the sway with the higher ups to help you out, but you can’t help the way your head shakes at the suggestion. 
“He has bigger things to worry about, than an entry level employee and her boundary crossing boss.” You whine, pushing the hair out of your face before standing from your chair, smiling one last time at your friend, hoping it reaches your eyes enough to convince him. 
“I’ll be fine.” You reassure the man, who shakes his head in disbelief but says nothing more, You’re about to keep arguing, to insist that you don’t need anyone’s help, when the door opens again. Your heart jumps, thinking it might be your boss coming back, but it’s not. 
It’s Nico.
Like captain of the team, Nico. 
Like first overall draft pick, Nico. 
Like your secret office crush, Nico. 
Like good guy, Nico. 
You freeze in place, caught somewhere between dread and disbelief. Nico steps into the room, his tall frame casting a shadow across the carpeted floor. His sharp brown eyes scan the room, landing briefly on Jack before settling on you. The warmth in his gaze feels out of place in the sterile tension hanging in the air.
“Am I interrupting something?” he asks, his voice smooth but tinged with concern.
Jack stands, his chair scraping against the floor as he does. “No, I was just leaving,” he says, giving Nico a pointed look that seems to communicate volumes. He turns back to you. “We’ll talk later,” he murmurs, before slipping out of the room and closing the door behind him.
You’re left alone with Nico, the silence almost suffocating. He takes a step closer, his hands tucked casually into his pockets. You feel a rush of heat creep up your neck as his eyes meet yours.
“You okay?” he asks, his tone gentle but direct. It’s such a simple question, but it’s enough to make your composure wobble.
“I… yeah, I’m fine,” you say, too quickly. You’re not sure if you’re trying to convince him or yourself.
Nico doesn’t look convinced. He tilts his head slightly, studying you like he’s piecing together a puzzle. “You sure? Jack seemed… worried.”
Your heart clenches. You glance away, pretending to straighten your papers on the table. “Jack worries too much. It’s nothing I can’t handle.”
Nico steps closer, and you feel the air shift around you. “That’s not what it looked like,” he says softly, his voice carrying an undercurrent of steel. “Whatever it is, you don’t have to handle it alone.”
The lump in your throat grows, but you swallow it down. You’ve always been good at bottling things up, at pretending everything’s fine even when it isn’t. But Nico’s earnestness chips away at your defences.
“It’s complicated,” you admit finally, your voice barely above a whisper. “I… I don’t want to cause trouble.”
Nico’s brows knit together, and he exhales sharply through his nose. “Trouble?” he repeats, his tone incredulous. “You think standing up for yourself is causing trouble?”
You look up at him, startled by the intensity in his voice. His jaw is tight, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. He’s angry, but not at you—you can see that clearly. It’s a protective kind of anger, one that makes your chest ache in a way you can’t quite explain.
But Nico never got angry. 
At anyone. 
Ever. 
Except maybe now.
“I… I don’t know,” you mumble, feeling suddenly exposed under his gaze. “He’s my boss, Nico. What am I supposed to do? Go up against him? Risk my job?”
Nico takes another step closer, until he’s standing right in front of you. His presence is overwhelming, but not in a bad way. It’s grounding, like an anchor in a storm.
“Yes,” he says firmly. “If that’s what it takes, then yes. You don’t deserve to be treated like that. No one does.” Your eyes sting, and you blink rapidly to keep the tears at bay. 
“You make it sound so easy,” you say, your voice cracking. “Do you know how hard I worked to even get considered for a job here?”  Nico’s expression softens, and he reaches out, his hand hovering near your arm. He doesn’t touch you, but the gesture is enough to steady your trembling resolve. 
“It’s not easy,” he says gently. “But you’re not alone. You have people who care about you. Jack, the team, me… we’ll have your back.” You look up at him, searching his face for any hint of insincerity. But all you see is determination and a quiet kind of kindness that makes your chest tighten.
“Why would you do that?” you ask, your voice barely audible.
Nico’s lips quirk into a small, almost shy smile. “Because it’s the right thing to do,” he says simply. “And because you… you matter.” Your breath catches, and for a moment, you forget how to speak. The vulnerability in his words, the way his eyes hold yours—it’s almost too much to handle.
“Thank you,” you manage to say, your voice thick with emotion.
Nico nods, his smile growing a fraction wider. “You don’t have to thank me,” he says. “Just let me help. Give me something I can do to help.” The idea pops into your head before you can even shake it away. 
“Nope, can’t think of anything.” 
“You’re lying, I can see that you’re lying.” He lets out a soft chuckle, his arms crossing against his chest in amusement. 
“There is no way you can tell, I’ve got a better poker face then anyone here.” You scoff, mirroring Nico’s position but crossing your arms, raising your brow in challenge. 
“You bite the inside of your cheek and you blink more when you’re lying.” Nico says quickly, a smile growing on your face as you mouth fall open a little. “Just tell me your idea.” 
“No, it’s stupid.” 
“I doubt it - I told you I just want to help.” Nico quips back, taking a step forwards his arms loosening as one reaches towards you, pausing before dropping back to his side, “C’mon spit it out.” 
“I need a fake boyfriend.” 
Nico’s eyebrows shoot up, and for a moment, he looks like he’s trying to process your words. His mouth opens slightly, then closes again, as if he’s weighing the best response.
“A fake boyfriend?” he repeats, his voice laced with cautious amusement.
You nod quickly, your cheeks burning. “Yeah… it’s stupid, I know,” you mumble, fiddling with the corner of your papers again. “But he’s been pressing me about bringing someone to the Christmas dinner, and so last year I just said my boyfriend couldn’t make it, and ever since he insisted on meeting him.” Nico leans back slightly, his arms now loosely crossed as he studies you. There’s a flicker of something in his expression—curiosity. “But I think he’s starting to catch on.” You admit
“And you think a fake boyfriend will… solve this?”
“I think it’ll buy me some breathing room,” you say hurriedly, your words tumbling out before you can stop them. “If he thinks I’m really in a relationship, maybe he’ll back off. At least for a little while.”
Nico doesn’t say anything right away. His eyes search your face, and you feel like he’s looking right through you, seeing every crack in the facade you’ve worked so hard to maintain. Finally, he exhales, running a hand through his hair.
“All right,” he says, his voice calm but decisive.
You blink. “All right… what?”
“All right, I’ll do it,” he says, his lips twitching into a faint smile. “I’ll be your fake boyfriend.” For a moment, you’re sure you’ve misheard him. 
“You will?” you stammer, staring at him like he’s grown a second head. Nico shrugs, his expression casual but with a hint of playfulness.
 “Why not? You need help, and I’m offering. Besides,” he adds, his smile growing just a little, “it might be fun.” Your brain feels like it’s short-circuiting. You hadn’t actually expected him to agree, let alone so quickly. 
“Nico, you don’t have to—”
“I want to,” he interrupts gently, his gaze steady. “If it helps keep that guy off your back, I’m in.”
You swallow hard, trying to process the turn this conversation has taken. “I don’t know what to say,” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper.
“Say yes,” Nico replies, his tone light but sincere. 
You bite your lip, the weight of his offer settling over you. It feels like a lifeline, and you know you’d be a fool to turn it down. “Okay,” you say finally, your voice shaky but resolute. “Thank you, Nico. Really.”
He grins, and for the first time in what feels like ages, you feel a flicker of hope. “Don’t worry about it.” Nico says quickly, “Besides no harm done in showing up to the party with a pretty girl on my arm.” 
+
+
The night of the Christmas dinner arrives faster than you anticipated, leaving you both excited and riddled with nerves. Your apartment is quiet, save for the sound of you pacing back and forth in front of your mirror, fussing over the dress you’d picked out weeks ago. It’s nice enough, but it feels lacklustre now that the evening is here.
You’re mid-sigh when a knock sounds at your door, startling you out of your thoughts. Quickly, you toss your robe over your half-zipped dress and shuffle to answer. When you pull the door open, Nico is there, looking so effortlessly put together in a pressed white dress shirt and tailored pin stripe suit that it makes your stomach do an annoying little flip.
“Hey,” he says, offering a small, boyish smile as he steps inside. You catch the faint scent of his cologne as he moves past you, and it takes an extra second to gather your thoughts.
“Hey,” you reply, trying to sound casual. Then you notice the garment bag draped over his arm. “What’s that?” Nico’s smile grows, but there’s something bashful about it, a faint dusting of pink rising to his cheeks. He holds the bag up, almost like he’s presenting you with a peace offering. 
“I, uh… I brought you something. For tonight.”
You blink, your eyes shifting between him and the garment bag. “What do you mean? I already have a dress—”
“I know,” he cuts in, scratching the back of his neck as his gaze flickers to the floor. “I just thought… maybe you’d like this one better. I mean, not that your dress isn’t great! I’m sure it’s great. I just—”
“Nico,” you interrupt, trying to hide a laugh. “Take a breath.”
He exhales sharply, a sheepish grin breaking through. “Right. Sorry. Here, just… look at it.” Carefully, he unzips the bag to reveal an absolutely breathtaking gown. It’s emerald green with subtle beading that catches the light just so, giving it a timeless elegance. The fabric flows beautifully, the kind of dress that looks like it belongs in an old Hollywood film.
Your jaw drops. “Nico…” You reach out to touch the dress, your fingers brushing over the soft, luxurious fabric.“This is… stunning. But you didn’t have to do this. This must have cost—”
“Don’t worry about that,” he says quickly, waving off your concern. “It’s… It’s a gift.”
Your heart skips a beat. “A gift?” Nico shifts on his feet, suddenly looking almost boyish in his discomfort. “Yeah. Well, I didn’t pick it out on my own,” he admits, his ears turning pink now. 
“I, uh… I called my mum. She’s the one who helped me pick it. She’s good at this kind of thing.”
For a second, you just stare at him, completely floored. “You got your mum involved?”
He rubs the back of his neck again, his smile turning shy. “She was thrilled, honestly. She’s been wanting to meet you since I told her about… well, you know, this whole thing.”
The mention of his mom melts something in your chest. The idea of Nico going out of his way to make sure everything was perfect—and even involving his mom—is almost too much to process.
“Nico, this is…” You pause, swallowing the lump in your throat. “This is the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for me.” He looks up at you, something soft and earnest in his eyes.
 “You deserve to feel special tonight. And if we’re doing this whole fake couple thing, I figure we should go all in, right?” You just nod at his words, the two of you looking at each other briefly before you step away clearing your throat. 
“I’ll…um— go try it on.” You say quickly, turning to leave as Nico nods his head. 
“The car will be here in about 15 minutes.” He notes, “But don’t rush.” You just smile to yourself as you close the door to your bedroom, holding the dress tight against your chest as you let out a long breath. 
+
+
“Can you stop fidgeting?” Nico chastises as you adjust your dress once more as you look at yourself in the mirror. The stunning emerald dress was something Nico has been insistent on you wearing as despite you feeling severely overdressed for a christmas party. The two of you had spent the last few days deciding on the story you would weave to convince your coworkers of your dating history. 
“Remember we need to stick to the truth as much as possible, it’ll make things easier.” He had said the night you sat down with pizza to hash out your relationship. “We met through Jack.” He said quickly, the truth. 
“We spent christmas break together and decided to seek out something more with each other.” He continued, watching as your wrote it down. “We kept things a secret to avoid any scandals at work but decided after five years it was time to let everyone know.” You nodded as you jotted his words down on the piece of paper. 
“I’ll pull some strings with Janet in HR, ask her to play along, pretend there was a contract always filled out.” Nico says quietly and you freeze, your head shooting up to glance at him. “Don’t worry she’s an old friend, she won’t snitch.” His smile eases you and you jot it down on the paper. 
“Do you think this will actually work?” You ask turning away from the mirror towards him. His own hands finish smoothing out the vest of his pin stripe suit. 
“It will. I’ll make it work.” He assures you, his sunshine grin dampening any concerns that still drifted through your head. “We better head off if we want to get there in time.” You lean over to your bed, picking up the white purse slinging it over your shoulder. You watch him tuck his arms inside the suit jacket, straightening the expensive material. 
The work christmas party always involved people dressing to the nines - everyone wanted one day to pretend they were rich and famous, right? Nico has splurged on his suit, claiming “if we are announcing that we’re together I want to leave a good impression.”  You had balked at his words, this man was acting as if he was some stranger to the people attending, not the captain of the team they all worked for. 
Nico has prepaid a car to take you both to the event and both to your separate homes afterwards, he had spared no expense to make it seem as if you were really dating.
The car ride is filled mainly with the two of you rerunning the story, the plan. You were to enter the building first alone, Nico would come in after and fulfil his duties to the shareholders and management, he would always be within earshot in case you needed anything. He would eventually introduce himself to your boss as your secret boyfriend, as quietly as possible. 
Nico gives you a bright grin as his driver opens the car door, offering you a hand to slide out of the car. You return a tight smile back, repeating the words Nico has whispered in your ears as the car pulled up to the venue. 
“I will be there the whole time, if you want to leave just squeeze my hand twice.” 
Your entrance to the party was easy, you said brief hello’s and gave holiday greeting to the employees that you knew, keeping an eye out for your supervisor amongst the already tipsy guests. You manage to spot Janet from HR in the crowd the woman giving you a wink and a cheeky smile from across the room. 
“I feel like you’re going to need this.” Jack whispers in your ear, handing you the glass of champagne. He was aware of the plan with Nico, it felt wrong to leave him out of it. Jack stands a few steps away as he takes in your appearance. “You look amazing by the way.” He mumbles. 
The four hundred and fifty dollar gown was swaying around your ankles. It was aline, tight along your bodice, the square neckline resembling a corset of sorts, the skirt of the dress a little more dramatic as it dropped off your hips. Your favourite part was how the dress tied with straps against your bare back, just grazing the base of your spine with  the skirt fabric. 
The room falls quiet as a presence walks through the door.
 Nico somehow managed to look larger in his suit. The three piece pin stripe attire fitting him with perfection, accentuation his broad shoulders and defined waist. The man exuding calmness as he walked in, welcoming everyone with a beaming ‘Merry Christmas’, the party resuming as the first chairman greeted the young captain.
Jack held his glass up in a cheers as the two of you continued your night by the bar, gossiping about the mothers who decided tonight was their night. You had managed to make it two hours into the party before even catching a glimpse of the man you hoped would be too drunk to notice you were even here. 
You could feel him finally catch you in the crowd, his eyes darkened as he spots you alone beside Jack. “I’m just going to run to the bathroom.” You say, handing your friend the empty glass of champagne, scuffling through the crowd hoping to escape to the restroom before your supervisor could catch up to you. 
“Now where do you think you’re going?” The voice calls from behind you, the hand gripping your forearms and wrenching you away from the bathroom door only a metre away. You let out a surprised yelp as your boss grips your arm pulling you towards him. 
“Let go of me.” You hiss as you try to tug your arm free of his grip. You could tell his was drunk, the way his steps stumbled, his eyes were blurred, not to mention the wafting smell of overpriced liquor. The man just laughed at your attempts to free your arm, reaching out with his other hand to secure you other arm as well. 
“I must say you look delicious as always.” He croons, his eyes grazing over your body as he takes in the tight bodice of your dress. “I was surprise to see you show up alone, couldn’t convince your boyfriend to tag along?” He teases, a shiver running up your spine as he pulls your closed to him, his breath running along the skin of your neck. 
“Please, let me go.” You say again, your voice not wavering as you look around for other passerby’s. “I won’t ask again, this is assault.” 
“You know, I’ve always wondered if maybe you just made up your boyfriend, pretended to play hard. You’ve always known how much I’ve wanted you, maybe you’re doing all this to tease me.” His words are slurred as he presses a wet kiss to your neck, your body tensing up. 
“Please don’t do this.” You plead, “Just let me go.” You ask one more time. You knew a drunk man was more likely to do things he shouldn’t, and with how brash your boss was sober your doubted he’d show you much professionalism while intoxicated. You tug your arms one more time, hoping to free at least one of them, when a hand reaches out to grip your assailants wrist. 
“She asked you three times.” Nico’s voice is dangerously low, he squeezes against the wrist hard, your boss letting out a pained groan as he releases your left arm. You watch in silence as Nico takes a step in front of you, reaching out to take your boss’s other wrist, repeating the action until both your arms are free, Nico having a tight hold of the drunk man’s arms. 
“Listen closely, because I will only say it once.” Nico starts, his eyebrows drawn tight as he leans in, “You will be escorted to your office, you will collect your belongings and vacate the building immediately, any resistance and you can sober up at the local police station.” You watch as your boss’s face pales, his eyes darting between you and his boss. 
“Don’t look at her.” Nico snaps. “You will be issues with a two week notice on Monday but you are not to return to the building on any circumstances, are we clear?” He says, 
“You can’t do this to me.” Your boss screams tugging at his arms still securely in Nico’s grip
“I can and I did — now were my instructions clear enough for you?” Nico continues, his body stepping closer to your boss, his voice barely above a whisper, your ex-supervisor nods furiously as Nico releases his arms, you recognise the large figure that steps up behind up and the security guard in the lobby. 
“Take good care of him.” Nico says with a tight nod, the security guard just grins back in response. 
You let out a shaky sigh as Nico turns towards you, his hand reaching out for you. 
“Did he hurt you?” He questions as he touches your arms gently. So gently you barely feel his fingers smooth the red bruising on your skin. 
“I’m okay.” You whisper, watching him look at the redness on your wrists with a frown. “Really, Nico, I’m okay.” You reiterate, his gaze finally snapping up to your face, his warm hands wrapping around your burning wrists, the one gesture soothing the ache. 
“I should’ve stayed with you.” He grumbles, his frown still sitting on his face. You smile and shake your head. 
You tug on your arms lightly, a clear difference between the man standing before you and the one that had been escorted away. Nico releases you easily, his frown growing as he fears you’ll step away from him. You hands reach out pushing some of his neatly swept hair back into place, the locks having fallen in front of his eyes in his rush to get to you. 
“I am okay.” You say one more time, your hands sitting on Nico’s cheeks as you force his to keep eye contact, to ensure he understand that you’re telling the truth. His expression relaxes slightly as he looks down at you, his eyes scanning you for any signs of untruth. 
You shake your head with a light laugh as you step forward, stepping up onto your tippy toes as you press a soft kiss to his cheek. “My hero.” You coo, as you fall back to the base of your heels, smiling up at him. 
Nico stands stunned for a few minutes before breaking out in a grin. He takes his turn, leaning down slowly, catching your lips with his. The kiss is soft, sweet, his hands gentle against the bare skin of your back as you pulls you to him. You fingers scratch at the base of his skull, fiddling with the hair. 
“I don’t know if this is appropriate after what happened.” He whispers against your lips but you just shrug, kissing him again. 
“Fuck appropriate.” You huff, pulling your face away from his, “I think you should take me home.”
Nico doesn’t waste time, he steps away from you, grabbing your hand with his, lacing your fingers together as he looks for the quickest escape route. The party is in full swing, as he guides you through the crowd, managing to somehow avoid every drunk colleague that tries to grab him for a conversation. You chuckle, as he side steps one of the sponsors, tugging you after him as he smack the button for the elevator. 
“The driver is on his break.” Nico says softly, as the elevator doors open, pulling the SUV’s keys from his jacket pocket. He hadn’t expected to leave for another hours or two and had told his driver to go down the street to get dinner. 
The elevator doors close, and you leans up pressing a breezy kiss on the underside of his ears, nipping at the skin lightly with your teeth. 
“The car will have to do.” You speak against his flushed skin, the man letting out a shudder as he holds your hand tighter. 
The sound of Nico wrenching open the car door brings you back to the moment, the man clambering inside the car, tugging you in after him. The door slams closed as Nico pulls you into his lap, his mouth finding the scented skin of your neck, letting out a long groan as the fresh smell of mango hits his senses. 
“This is so fucking wrong.” He swears, as you tug the dress up around your hips, straddling his thick things as he glances over your body. You just smile, your hands reaching for his belt. Nico puts up no resistance as you loosen the faux leather, tugging his button open and pulling down the zipper just as quickly. 
“We can do things right later.” You say, “Right now I need your dick inside me.” Nico hisses as your hand reaches into his tight breaches, pulling his hard cock from the restraints of his underwear. 
“Are you sure this isn’t some kind of hero complex?” He asks, as you pump his cock a few times, sliding the oozing pre cum down his length. “I heard girls tend to feel like they owe favours when someone helps them.” Nico groans out as your adjust your panties under your dress, shuffling further into his lap as his cock grazes your folds. 
“I don’t owe you anything.” You say softly, looking down at him as his cock sinks inside of you. “This is you doing me a favour.” You add, letting out a sigh of relief as Nico’s hand grip your hips, helping you slide down him slowly. 
“Can’t argue with that.” He responds, his voice light as you close your eyes the feeling of his thick cock bottoming out inside of you. He leans forwards pressing soft kiss against your shoulders as you rock your hips forwards and back. 
“I’m so glad you’re rich.” You whine as Nico sucks harshly against your skin, his gaze shooting to you confused for a moment before his lips reattach to your jaw. “You windows are tinted and no one can see their captain fucking an employee and his teammates best friend.” You coo, the man beneath you bucking his hips up at your words. 
“Does that turn you on?” You question with surprise, Nico just nods. 
“God, you’re so pretty.” He mumbles as he pushes hair of your shoulder, glancing down at your heaving chest, pressing kisses on any skin that available to him. Your thighs work hard in rising you up slightly, before dropping you back down, your hips bucking forwards every time his pelvis rubs against your clit. 
“Say it again.” You mumble, your lip catching between your teeth as he trails soft touches over your skin. 
“You are the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen.” He says. 
“I would give anything to have you like this, on top of me, every night.” He continues, his own hips bucking up to meet you as he feels your thrusts begin to slow. 
“I want you to be mine, I want us to be something.” He whispers, tucking hair behind your ear, his hand resting against your cheek. You nuzzle into his hand, pressing a gentle peck against his wrist as he smiles up at you. 
“That’s the sex talking.” You hiss at a particularly aggressive thrust. 
“No it’s cause you’re perfect.” He says in awe as your thighs clench, your body stopping as you let out a small whimper falling against his chest. His hips thrust up a few times before he’s joining you in a high, heavy gasps the only thing filling the car. 
The windows were fogged up, the both of you with a light layer of sweat on your skin. 
“Do you think you’re driver will be mad?” You question, tugging a laugh from the tired man under you. 
“Probably.” Nico answers, pressing a kiss to your cheek before helping you off of him, adjusting your dress to the best of his abilities. “Guess we’ll both just have to be on the naughty list this year.” 
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moonlitwitchdaisy · 3 days ago
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Boyfriend!Sukuna was definitely not a shy man.
As someone who had tried every possible way to embarrass him, neither your actions nor your words ever worked. Every time, he’d look at you with the same seriousness—or even mild annoyance. Did you truly believe you could make him blush? It was ridiculous. There was no way someone as towering and unshakable as him would ever feel embarrassed to the point of turning red. It was simply impossible.
But for you, “impossible” was just a word.
You were leaning against his broad chest, sitting in his lap, as the two of you watched the snow falling onto the garden from your terrace. Sukuna wasn’t exactly the touchy type, but when you insisted, there wasn’t much he wouldn’t do for you.
“So, you’ve never been embarrassed?” you asked, your gaze fixed on the snow as it blanketed the greenery outside. Your question earned a low grunt from him.
“I was wondering how long it’d take for you to ruin the moment,” he replied, pausing briefly before adding, “Three minutes and forty-one seconds. Congrats, brat, you broke your previous record.”
His words made you laugh so hard your body shook, though Sukuna couldn’t understand what was so funny about his dead-serious comment. You were a peculiar one, that was for sure.
Suddenly, you shifted in his lap, moving to straddle him. His large hands instinctively settled on your waist, steadying you.
Who would’ve thought being held by four hands could feel this good?
As your fingers trailed through his pink, messy hair, Sukuna’s eyes fluttered shut—something he couldn’t help but do whenever you touched his hair. It always brought him an unexplainable calm, a sense of peace he found nowhere else.
“I’m good at breaking records,” you teased, a bright smile lighting up your face. Sukuna didn’t open his eyes, but you caught the faintest upward twitch of his lips—a rare, fleeting moment of softness.
“I can see that. You surprise me more and more every day, you cheeky brat.” The crimson eyes that most people found cursed and terrifying locked onto yours, though you found them utterly irresistible. While he’d never admit it, seeing you smile made everything in his world feel a little brighter.
Slowly, he leaned in, nuzzling his head against the soft curve of your neck. His lips found the sensitive spot behind your ear, and he planted a gentle kiss there, letting his teeth graze your skin ever so slightly.
“Just one touch…” His warm breath sent shivers down your spine. “One single touch is enough to turn your neck red. I’d bet your cheeks are even redder than your neck right now.”
He was right. Your cheeks were undoubtedly burning like wildfire. You knew your face had turned a shade rivaling a clown’s red nose.
“Kuna—”
“I want you right here.” His deep voice resonated through you. “Watching the snow while I bury myself inside your warm, tight little pussy.”
If you stayed like this any longer, everything he said would probably happen. You were already sore from last night. Besides, it was Christmas Day, and you wanted to do something other than just have sex with your boyfriend.
With great difficulty, you pulled his massive head away from you. If he wanted to stop you, he could have, but if he did, he’d probably have to endure you complaining to him for two hours.
Still holding his head, you scolded him, “Nuh-uh. Last night you nearly broke my back.” Furrowing your brows, you let go of his head and stood up. “I’m going to make us some hot chocolate, and don’t even try that ‘I don’t like sweet things’ excuse. I know who ate the Oreo Milka I bought two days ago.”
As you walked off the terrace toward the kitchen, you called out loudly, “Be a good boy, Sukuna, and maybe I’ll let you have me on the terrace later.”
Magic words didn’t always have to be “please.” After all, the word “please” didn’t even exist in Sukuna’s vocabulary. But if he had to pick one magical phrase, it would undoubtedly be “good boy.”
Those two words were enough to make your supposedly unshakable boyfriend blush furiously and feel his heart race in his chest.
It wasn’t the first time you’d called him “good boy,” but every time you did, he somehow managed to hide his face, avoiding your gaze.
Boyfriend!Sukuna who made others kneel at his feet, who inspired fear with his towering figure and unmatched strength, could turn into a shy mess with just two simple words from you: “good boy.”
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a little note: can i get a little commotion for my red ribbon divider 😌
all rights belong to the @moonlitwitchdaisy do not copy, reproduce, or translate my work.
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classyhoeeee · 2 days ago
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BEST MAN :: Rafe Cameron
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WARNING! :: kissing, oral, unprotected sex, teasing, forbidden love, Dom!Rafe, romance, Rafe Cameron x Reader, soft!rafe, cheating, Topper Thorton x Reader (mentioned), public sex, aftercare, slow dancing.
SUMMARY! :: The reader is marrying Topper Thorton, but Rafe doesn’t care in the slightest. As far as he’s concerned, you were his long before the vows, the dress, and the ring. On your wedding day, he’s determined to make you see it—even if it means crossing every line. Including hurting his best friend, Topper.
A/N:: I know I always say this, but this one is my favorite. It’s the perfect combination of filth and fluff. Please read it.
…………………………………………………………………………………
The air in the bridal suite felt heavy, like even the sunlight streaming through the windows couldn’t cut through the weight pressing down on you. The music outside swelled faintly, the distant laughter of guests drifting in through the open window. It should’ve felt like a fairytale, standing there in your white gown, the lace veil framing your face perfectly, but it didn’t.
You smoothed your hands down the front of your dress, trying to steady your breathing. This was the right thing. Topper was a good man…to some—loyal, patient, safe. He’d been everything you’d needed him to be. But as much as you wanted to believe in the words “happily ever after,” something gnawed at you deep inside, something you didn’t want to name.
A loud knock shattered your thoughts, making you jump.
“Hey, open up.”
You froze, your heart dropping. That voice—low, rough, and unmistakable. Rafe.
“Rafe, go home,” you called out, forcing your voice to stay steady. “You don’t need to be here.”
The door creaked open anyway, and when you turned, he was already inside, closing the door behind him.
“Do you even know how to listen?” you snapped, but it came out more exasperated than anything else.
Rafe just leaned against the door, his arms crossed, looking at you with that familiar mix of cocky and dangerous. His dress shirt was half-buttoned, his sleeves rolled up, his jaw clenched like he was barely holding himself together. His eyes swept over you, slow and deliberate, and the way they lingered made your soft brown skin prickle.
“You’re really doing this?” he asked, his voice low and sharp.
You turned back to the mirror, refusing to meet his gaze. “Yes, Rafe. I’m really doing this. So if you’re here to cause a scene, please get the fuck out.”
He laughed, but it was humorless. “Yeah, no. Not happening.”
You sighed, closing your eyes for a moment. “Why are you in here? Why today, Rafe? Why now?”
“Because someone’s gotta stop you from fucking up your life,” he said, his voice harsh and unapologetic.
You spun around to face him, your anger bubbling to the surface. “What the hell is wrong with you? This is not your decision to make! You don’t get to just barge in here and act like—”
“Like what?” he interrupted, his voice rising. “Like I give a fuck about you? Like I’ve been sitting around watching you play house with Top, knowing damn well he’ll never give you what you really need?”
You flinched, his words hitting too close to home. “Don’t do this shit, Rafe. Don’t make this about you.”
“It’s not just about me, and you know it,” he said, stepping closer. His eyes bore into yours, unrelenting. “This? You and him? It’s bullshit, and we both know it. You’re just too scared to admit it.”
“Scared of what?” you shot back, your voice shaking.
“Of me,” he said, his voice dropping. “Of us. Of what you really want.”
You shook your head, backing away until you hit the edge of the vanity. “Stop doing that. Stop acting like you know me. You don’t know what I want, Rafe.”
He closed the distance between you in two strides, his hands bracing on either side of you, trapping you in. “The fuck I don’t,” he said, his voice low and dangerous. “You think I don’t see it? The way you look at me when you think no one’s watching? The way you can’t even say his name without hesitating? You don’t love him. Not the way you’re supposed to.”
Your chest tightened, and you swallowed hard, your throat thick with emotion. “You don’t understand,” you whispered. “Topper—he’s good to me. He’s… safe. I can’t hurt him like this. I’m not that girl.”
Rafe’s laugh was sharp and bitter. “Safe?” he spat. “That’s what you want? Someone who’s ‘safe’? I think you’re full of shit, and you know it.”
“Why are you doing this?” you asked, your voice cracking. “Why on my wedding day, Rafe? You’re supposed to be his best friend!”
His jaw clenched, and he leaned in closer, his breath warm against your face. “Because I don’t give a fuck about being his best friend. I don’t give a fuck about anyone when it comes to you. You’re mine.”
Your breath caught, and tears welled in your brown eyes. “You can’t just… You can’t keep saying shit like that and expect me to—”
“To what?” he cut you off, his voice rising again. “To ignore it? To go play house with Topper and pretend like this—us—doesn’t exist?”
You shook your head, the tears spilling over. “You’re gonna ruin everything,” you whispered.
“Good,” he said, his voice harsh. “I’ll ruin it all if it means you don’t marry him.”
“Rafe—”
He didn’t let you finish. His lips crashed into yours, cutting off whatever protest you were about to make. The kiss was rough, desperate, and overwhelming. His hands gripped your waist, pulling you against him like he was afraid you’d slip away.
For a moment, you froze, your mind screaming at you to stop, to push him away, to think of Topper. But then his lips moved against yours, and something in you broke. Slowly, almost hesitantly, you kissed him back, your hands gripping the front of his shirt as you melted into him.
It was like the rest of the world fell away—no wedding, no guests, no consequences. Just you and Rafe, tangled in something you couldn’t deny any longer.
When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, both of you breathing hard. His hands stayed on your waist, holding you in place, and his blue eyes burned into your soft brown ones, searching, waiting.
You stared back at him, your mind racing, your heart pounding.
Neither of you spoke. Neither of you moved.
The muffled sound of the wedding music drifted in through the window, a stark reminder of the life waiting for you outside that door. But in that moment, with Rafe’s hands on you and his lips still tingling on yours, you weren’t sure if you could walk away.
You weren’t sure if you wanted to.
——
Topper tugged at the collar of his perfectly tailored suit, sweat pooling at the base of his neck despite the ocean breeze rolling in over the estate. The music playing softly in the background only added to his growing unease.
"Where the hell are they?" he muttered under his breath, running a hand through his neatly combed hair.
"Relax," Kelce said beside him, nudging him in the ribs. "She's probably just, you know, fixing her hair or some shit. Girls take forever to get ready. It's her wedding day, man. She's gotta look perfect."
"She's already perfect," Topper said with a nervous smile, though his voice betrayed the doubt creeping in. "But where's Rafe? He was supposed to be here by now."
Kelce shrugged. "Probably running late like always. Dude's not exactly known for his punctuality."
Topper nodded, forcing himself to believe it.
He told himself there was no reason to worry.
You'd been so calm this morning, so sure about everything. Rafe was probably off doing... well, whatever Rafe did.
In the front row, Sarah fidgeted with the hem of her light blue dress. She leaned over to Kiara, who sat beside her with her arms crossed tightly over her chest.
"You don't think something happened, do you?" Sarah whispered.
Kiara shot her a look. "I think this whole thing's a disaster waiting to happen," she muttered. "But what do I know?"
Sarah sighed, ignoring Kiara's usual bluntness. She glanced back toward the house, a flicker of worry crossing her face.
If only they knew.
——
Inside the bridal suite, you weren't fixing your veil.
You were on the edge of the vanity, your dress pushed up to your hips, your thighs trembling as Rafe Cameron brought you to the brink of insanity.
"Fuck," Rafe groaned, pulling back just enough to look at you. His lips were slick, his chin wet from his work. His buzzed head pressed between your thighs, and the rough contrast of his stubble against your soft brown skin only added to the fire coursing through your veins. "You taste so fucking good."
Your head fell back against the mirror, your breath ragged as you tried-and failed -to suppress the sounds spilling from your lips.
"Rafe," you gasped, your voice barely above a whisper.
He smirked, that signature, cocky grin that made you weak even when you wanted to hate him. "What, baby? You want me to stop?"
"Hell no. Keep going," you shot back, surprising even yourself with the urgency in your voice.
His laugh was low and dangerous, vibrating against your skin. "That's what I thought," he murmured before diving back in, his tongue flicking against you in a way that had you arching off the vanity.
"Oh my God," you whimpered, your hands gripping the edge so tightly your knuckles turned white.
Rafe glanced up at you, his blue eyes dark and hungry. "What do you want, huh?" he taunted, his voice thick with desire. "Tell me, baby. I'll give it to you."
You bit down on your lip, every ounce of shame and guilt battling against the heat flooding your body. You shouldn't want this. Shouldn't want him. But when his tongue circled you again, the words spilled out before you could stop them.
"Spit on it."
Rafe froze for half a second, his smirk deepening as a dangerous gleam flickered in his eyes. "Say it again," he demanded, his voice rough and commanding.
You looked down at him, your chest heaving. “Spit on my pussy,” you repeated more vulgarly, your voice trembling.
He let out a low, satisfied chuckle, gripping your thighs tighter as he leaned back. "Atta girl," he muttered before spitting on your clit, his tongue immediately following, his movements slow and deliberate as he worked you over like it was his favorite thing to do.
"Fuck, Rafe," you whimpered, your hands flying to his head. The sensation of his buzzed hair against your palms only heightened the intensity, and when his lips wrapped around your clit, sucking in just the right way, your vision blurred.
"Yeah, that's it," he muttered against you, his voice vibrating through your core. "I told you, baby. No one knows this pussy like I do. Not Topper. Not anyone. Just me."
The mention of Topper's name jolted something in you, but it was fleeting, gone the second Rafe slid two fingers inside you, curling them just right. "Oh my god," you choked out, your thighs clenching around his head.
You couldn't reply. Couldn't speak. All you could do was grip his shirt, your nails digging into his shoulders as his thumb pressed harder, sending you hurtling toward the edge.
"Say it," he demanded, his tone commanding as he slowed his pace just enough to drive you insane. "Say it’s mine."
You shook your head weakly, your lips trembling.
"Say it," he repeated, his voice a growl as his fingers pumped into you harder, his free hand gripping your jaw and forcing you to meet his gaze. "Fucking say it."
Your body betrayed you before your mouth did, your climax ripping through you with a force that left you trembling, broken, and utterly at his mercy around his dick.
Rafe didn't let up, his movements slowing only slightly as he worked you through the high. His eyes never left yours, his smirk widening as he watched you fall apart beneath him.
“It’s yours, Rafe.” You finally say it and he groans with a deep chuckle, the sound muffled as he pressed his tongue against you again, his pace quickening until your body was trembling uncontrollably.
"Fuck y/n," he gritted, his voice low and filthy. "Your pussy tastes so fucking good. I’d kill for it."
Your hand flew to your mouth, muffling the scream that tore from your throat as the pleasure ripped through you, wave after wave until you were nothing but a trembling, incoherent mess.
Rafe pulled back slowly, his lips glistening, his eyes filled with nothing but satisfaction.
"Good girl," he murmured, his voice thick with pride as he rose to his feet.
You couldn't move, couldn't speak, your chest rising and falling as you tried to catch your breath.
He leaned in, his hands braced on either side of you, his lips brushing against your ear.
"You're not walking down that fucking aisle," he murmured, his voice low and deadly. "Not after this. Hell no."
Before you could catch your breath, before you could even think to argue, Rafe's fingers slid inside you again, slow and deliberate, curling just enough to make you gasp. "You hear me?" he continued, his voice thick and dripping with venom. "You think I'm just gonna stand there, watching you let him have what's mine, huh?"
Your lips parted, but nothing came out, your body too overwhelmed to form words.
Rafe smirked at your silence, his other hand gripping your thigh possessively. "That's what I thought. You can't even defend him, can you? Because deep down, you know he's not man enough for you. Not like I am."
"Rafe," you whispered, but it came out shaky, weak, barely audible over the pounding of your heart.
"Shut up," he growled, his tone sharp as his fingers pumped into you faster, hitting a spot that had your eyes rolling back. "You don't get to talk. You don't get to tell me I'm wrong—not when you're dripping all over my fingers like this. Not when you're fucking clenching around me like your pussy knows who it belongs to."
A broken moan escaped your lips, your hands gripping the vanity as your thighs tried to close around him. Rafe just pushed them wider, his strength overpowering you easily.
"You think I'd let you marry him?" he hissed, his mouth so close to your ear that his breath sent chills down your spine. "You think I'd just stand there, watching you let that fucking pussy put a ring on your finger? I'd drag you out of there so fast it'd make his head spin. Hell, maybe l'd do it in front of everyone-make sure they all know who you really belong to."
Your chest heaved, your mind spinning, but you couldn't stop the way your body responded to him. Every word, every movement of his hand, every filthy promise he made—it was wrong, it was insane, but it made your legs tremble and your resolve crumble.
"I could eat your pussy every fucking day," he muttered, his lips brushing against your neck as he fucked you with his fingers, his thumb pressing circles against you that had your hips bucking against his hand. "I bet he's never even made you cum, has he? All that talk, all that money, and he's useless when it counts."
You whimpered, shaking your head slightly, but it wasn't a defense of Topper-it was denial of the truth he was dragging out of you.
Rafe chuckled darkly, his teeth grazing the shell of your ear. "That's what I thought," he said. "He's too soft. Too fucking weak. He doesn't know what to do with you, doesn't know how to make you scream, how to make you fucking crave him."
His hand tightened on your thigh, pulling you closer, his fingers curling inside you in a way that had you gasping for air. "But me?" he continued, his voice low and rough. "I could make you cum every goddamn day for the rest of your life, and it still wouldn't be enough. I'd ruin you for anyone else. Shit, I already have.”
Tears pricked your eyes, not from sadness or fear, but from the overwhelming, unbearable mix of emotions flooding your chest. He was insane. He was cruel. And he was right.
"You know what l'd do to him if you walked down that aisle?" Rafe asked, his tone shifting into something even darker, more dangerous. His fingers didn't stop, didn't falter, as he spoke. "I'd beat his fucking face in, right there in front of everyone. I'd make him bleed for even thinking he could have you. And then l'd take you, just like this, while everyone fucking watched."
A strangled gasp tore from your lips, your hands flying to his shoulders to steady yourself as your body threatened to collapse under the weight of his words and the intensity of his touch.
"You think that's crazy?" he asked, his voice softer now, almost mocking. "You think I care? Baby, l've been crazy for you since the day I laid eyes on you. And you love it. Don't fucking lie to me-you love this shit.”
You couldn’t even deny it. He was right. You loved when he got all crazy. You couldn’t help it.
——
The ceremony was falling apart before it had even begun.
Topper stood at the altar, his jaw tight and his hands fidgeting with his cufflinks as the whispers from the crowd grew louder. The once-perfect day was starting to unravel, and he could feel the weight of every set of eyes on him.
"She's probably just running late," Kelce offered, clapping a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "You know how these things go, man. It's all part of the drama."
But even Kelce didn't sound convinced.
Topper's smile was tight, forced, as he glanced toward the house. The bridal suite was quiet, no sign of movement. Still no sign of her. And still no sign of Rafe.
"Where is he?" Topper muttered under his breath, his frustration bubbling beneath the surface.
Sarah stepped forward, her light blue dress fluttering slightly in the breeze as she gave Topper a comforting smile. "She's okay, Topper," she said softly. "Maybe something came up-an issue with her dress or makeup. You know how important this day is to her. She wouldn't just..." She trailed off, not wanting to finish the thought.
Topper nodded quickly, clinging to her words like a lifeline. "Yeah. Yeah, you're right. She just wants everything to be perfect."
Sarah gave him a soft pat on the arm before stepping back toward Kiara, who stood farther away from the crowd, her arms crossed tightly over her chest.
"Something's up," Kiara muttered as soon as Sarah was close enough to hear.
Sarah frowned. "What do you mean?"
Kiara glanced around to make sure no one was paying attention before leaning in closer.
"Where's Rafe?" she asked quietly.
Sarah's face tightened at the mention of her brother, her brows furrowing. "I don't know. He was supposed to be here with Topper. He disappeared like twenty minutes ago."
Kiara huffed, shaking her head. "You don't think..."
"What?" Sarah asked, confused.
Kiara bit her lip, her eyes narrowing as memories flooded back to her. Back when they were all Kooks-her, Sarah, Rafe, and the reader. Back when their group had been a tangled web of drama and tension.
"Rafe always had a thing for her," Kiara said slowly, her voice barely above a whisper. "You remember that, right?"
Sarah's frown deepened. "Yeah, but... Rafe had a thing for everyone, including you. That doesn't mean anything."
Kiara gave her a pointed look. "No, Sarah. It was different with her. He actually wanted her, and it wasn't just some fling to him. I saw it. Hell, I think we all saw it."
Sarah's eyes widened slightly as realization dawned on her, but she shook her head quickly. "No. No way. He wouldn't-"
Kiara cut her off. "Wouldn't he?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.
The weight of the question hung in the air between them, and Sarah's stomach twisted uncomfortably.
"Where do you think they are, Sarah?" Kiara asked, her voice low and sharp.
——
Out on the balcony, the world seemed to disappear. The ocean stretched endlessly in front of you, the salty breeze cool against your overheated skin. But none of it mattered—not the crashing waves, not the golden glow of the sun setting over Figure 8-because Rafe Cameron had you pinned against the railing, your white dress hiked up around your hips, and his name falling from your lips like a prayer.
His large hands gripped your brown thighs, rough and insistent, the pale contrast against your smooth, glowing skin only making the moment feel more forbidden. His movements were relentless, his hips slamming into yours, the sound of your bodies colliding drowned out by your broken moans.
Your curls that were once perfectly styled in an updo were now cascaded over your shoulders, blowing in the wind as Rafe gave you the most delicious backshots you have ever experienced in your life.
"Harder," you begged, your voice shaky but clear, every ounce of shame long forgotten. "Please, Rafe. Harder."
He groaned at your words, a dark, satisfied sound that sent shivers down your spine.
"Fuck," he muttered, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear. "You love this, don't you? Being out here where anyone could see. My dick so deep inside you, you can't even think about anything else."
You nodded frantically, your hands gripping the railing for support as your legs trembled beneath you. "Don't stop," you whispered, your voice breathless and desperate.
He chuckled darkly, his teeth grazing the back of your neck as he slammed into you harder, deeper. "Stop?" he taunted, his voice low and mocking. "I’m just getting started."
His hands slid down your thighs, squeezing the soft flesh as he leaned back slightly to watch the way your body moved for him.
"Goddamn," he muttered, his blue eyes locked on the way your skin glistened in the golden hour light. "Look at you. So fucking perfect. Top doesn't deserve to even look at you, let alone touch you."
You whimpered, unable to argue, unable to say anything but his name.
"Yeah," he said, his voice filled with smug satisfaction. "That's right. Say my name, baby. Let the whole fucking world know who's making you feel this good."
"Rafe," you gasped, your head falling back as his pace quickened, each thrust hitting your g-spot so deep you could barely breathe.
"That's my girl," he growled, his grip tightening on your hips. "You hear them down there?" he asked, his tone mocking as he gestured with his chin toward the crowd below. "All those people waiting for you to walk down that aisle like the perfect little bride. But they don't know, do they? They don't know you're up here getting fucked so good you can't even think straight."
Your nails dug into the wood of the railing, your body trembling as you struggled to hold yourself together. But he wasn't done.
"I bet Topper thinks you're just late," he sneered, his voice dripping with venom. "Bet he's down there sweating, thinking you're still fixing your makeup or some stupid shit. Meanwhile, you're up here, dripping all over my cock, begging me for more."
Your eyes rolled back as he hit a spot so perfect, so devastatingly good, it ripped a broken cry from your throat.
"Yeah," Rafe muttered, his voice rough and raw. "That's it, baby. Let go. Don't think about him. Don't think about anything but me. Just me."
His pink lips pressed against your shoulder, his teeth scraping your soft skin as his hand moved between your thighs, his fingers working you over until your legs threatened to give out.
"Look at this pretty pussy," he growled, his tone almost reverent. "So wet for me. So fucking tight. You think Topper could ever make you feel like this? You think he even knows how?"
You shook your head frantically, your voice a broken whisper. "No. He can't. He doesn't."
Rafe grinned against your skin, his ego swelling at your admission. "That's right," he murmured, his voice dripping with satisfaction. "Only me. Always me."
The pleasure built to an unbearable high, your body clenching around him as his name tore from your lips in a broken scream.
"Fuck," Rafe groaned, his hips stuttering as he buried himself deep inside you, his grip on your hips bruising. "You're mine," he said, his voice low and deadly as he kissed the curve of your shoulder. "You've always been mine."
As your body trembled in the aftermath, your head fell forward, your chest heaving. The sound of the ocean filled your ears, but all you could feel was Rafe-his hands on your skin, his breath against your neck, his words still echoing in your mind.
He stayed inside you, his arms wrapping around your waist as he pressed a soft kiss to the back of your neck. "You're not walking down that aisle," he murmured, his voice softer now but no less certain. "Not today. Not ever."
And as much as you wanted to argue, to fight, to tell him he was wrong, you couldn't.
Because deep down, you knew he was right.
——
Rafe didn't stop. He didn't even slow down.
The wind whipped around you, carrying the sound of footsteps from below as wedding guests wandered outside, looking for glimpses of the bride they thought was just running late. But you weren't running late— you were pinned against the balcony railing, your dress still hiked up, and Rafe Cameron was fucking you like he'd been waiting his whole life for this moment.
Your body trembled as he thrust into you, each movement deliberate, precise, like he knew exactly how to make you lose yourself.
Your moans spilled out uncontrollably, and you desperately tried to muffle them with your hand.
"Uh-uh," Rafe growled, his voice thick and commanding. He grabbed both of your wrists with one hand, pulling them behind your back and pinning them there easily. "Don't you fucking hide from me."
"Rafe," you gasped, your voice breaking as he held you in place, his grip unrelenting.
"Let them hear you," he said, his teeth gritting as he pounded into your pussy harder, deeper. "Let them fucking know who you belong to."
Tears spilled down your cheeks as the pleasure overwhelmed you, your body shaking violently with each thrust. You could feel him everywhere-his hand gripping your wrists, his chest pressed against your back, his cock hitting that perfect spot that had your legs trembling and your mind unraveling.
"Fuck, baby," he groaned, his voice raw as his eyes locked on the way your body rippled with every movement. "You're so fucking sexy. You feel that? Feel how perfect you are for me?"
You couldn't respond-not with words. All you could do was push back against him, your body moving instinctively, meeting his every thrust with desperation.
"Yeah," Rafe muttered, his free hand sliding down to grab a handful of your ass. "That's it. Fuck me back, baby. Show me how much you want it."
His palm came down hard on your cheek, the sharp sound of the smack echoing in the air, and you cried out, your head falling forward as the sting radiated through your skin.
"That's my girl," he said, his voice dripping with satisfaction as he rubbed the red mark he'd left. "You take it so fucking good. Better than I ever imagined."
Your knees buckled, but Rafe didn't let you collapse. His hand slid around your waist, holding you up effortlessly as he pounded into you with a rhythm that made your vision blur.
"Fuck, you're so tight," he groaned, his teeth gritting as his pace quickened. "Topper could never have you weak like this. That little bitch wouldn't even know what to do with you."
His words sent a fresh wave of heat through you, the forbidden thrill of it all making your body tremble uncontrollably. The tears streamed down your cheeks now, not from sadness but from the overwhelming intensity of it all.
"Rafe," you whimpered, your voice breaking as your body clenched around him.
"You gonna cum for me, baby?" he taunted, his hand tightening on your hip as he angled his thrusts to hit deeper. "Come on. Show me who this pussy belongs to."
Your release hit you like a tidal wave, ripping through you with a force that left you gasping for air. Your legs shook violently, and your cries filled the air, no longer muffled, no longer restrained.
"Fuck, yes," Rafe growled, his hand leaving another stinging smack on your ass as your body convulsed around him. "That's my fucking girl."
He buried himself deep inside you with a final thrust, his body tensing as he came in your pussy, his warmth spilling into you and claiming you in the most primal way possible. His grip on you didn't loosen, even as his movements slowed, his breathing heavy against your neck.
He pulled out slowly, his hand releasing your wrists as he turned you around to face him.
His blue eyes were wild, his lips parted as he stared at you with an intensity that made your knees weak.
"You're so fucking pretty," he said, his voice low and deadly as he cupped your face in his hands.
His lips crashed against yours in a possessive, hungry kiss, his tongue sweeping into your mouth as he pulled you closer.
When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, his breath warm against your skin.
"Run away with me," he said, his voice soft but firm, his eyes searching yours.
You stared at him, your chest heaving as the reality of what he was asking sank in. "Rafe, I can't," you whispered, your voice trembling.
"Yes, you can," he said, his grip on your face tightening slightly. "No one can fuck with you if you're with me. No one. You know that."
"I..." Your voice broke, the weight of it all crashing down on you.
He leaned in, his lips brushing against yours again, softer this time, but no less insistent.
"You're mine," he whispered. "Say yes. Say you'll come with me."
Your heart pounded in your chest, every instinct screaming at you to say no, to run, to do the right thing. But when you looked into his eyes, saw the fire, the conviction, the obsession burning there, you knew there was no going back.
"Yes," you whispered, your voice barely audible.
Rafe's lips curved into a dangerous, triumphant smirk, and he kissed you again, harder this time, his hands gripping your waist like he never wanted to let you go.
"Let's go," he said, pulling you toward the door.
The two of you slipped back inside the house, your heart racing as he led you through the empty halls. You didn't look back, didn't think about the ceremony still waiting, the guests still wondering, the man you'd left at the altar.
Because none of it mattered now.
You weren't the bride anymore.
You were running away from your own wedding with your fiancè’s best man.
——
Your hand was in his, his grip firm and unrelenting as he pulled you away from the estate, away from the ceremony, away from the life you'd just left behind. The sound of your heels clicking against the stone path was drowned out by the pounding of your heart as you glanced back at the estate, at the guests you could no longer face.
"I can't believe I just did that," you whispered, your voice trembling with disbelief.
Rafe turned to you, his blue eyes blazing with intensity as he pulled you closer. "You didn't do anything," he said firmly, his hand cupping your cheek. "You made the only choice that matters. You chose me."
Your chest tightened, doubt flickering in your mind despite the heat coursing through your veins. "Rafe, this isn’t right I-"
He cut you off with a kiss, his lips crashing against yours with a hunger that left you breathless. His hands framed your face, his touch grounding you as his mouth claimed yours. The world around you blurred, the sounds of the wedding fading into nothing as his kiss silenced your doubts, your fears, your guilt.
When he finally pulled back, his forehead pressed against yours, his voice was a low whisper. "No one can touch you if you're with me. No one can fucking hurt you. You're okay now."
You stared into his eyes, the truth of his words sinking in as your chest heaved with uneven breaths. And in that moment, the world didn't matter. Nothing mattered except him.
"Let's go," he said, his voice commanding but soft.
You nodded, your fingers tightening around his as he pulled you forward, the two of you breaking into a run. The contrast between you-his pale, tanned skin against your glowing brown complexion-made the moment feel like a painting, a picture of chaos and beauty all at once.
——
Back near the ceremony, Sarah's hand flew to her mouth as she watched you and Rafe disappear down the path. "Oh my God," she whispered. "They're running away."
Kiara stood frozen for a moment before shaking her head and letting out a bitter laugh. "This is insane. What the hell is she thinking?"
Sarah bit her lip, her expression softening. "I mean... it's kind of romantic, don't you think?"
Kiara shot her a sharp look. "Romantic?
Sarah, that's your brother we're talking about. Your psycho brother who ruins everything he touches. And now he's got her."
Sarah's face fell slightly, her eyes flickering back toward the path you'd disappeared down. "You're right," she admitted softly. "I just... I hope he doesn't hurt her."
Kiara sighed, crossing her arms. "Let's just hope she knows what she's doing."
The two of them exchanged a glance before stepping back from the crowd. There was no point in staying anymore-not without you. Without a word, they slipped away from the ceremony, leaving Topper to figure out the truth on his own.
And as they disappeared into the shadows, so did you and Rafe, hand in hand, running toward whatever future waited for you.
——
Your chest rose and fell rapidly as you came to a stop, your heels skidding slightly on the stone path. Rafe’s hand remained tightly clasped around yours, his grip firm and possessive, grounding you as both of you struggled to catch your breath. The distant sounds of the Figure 8 estate were gone now, replaced by a serene stillness broken only by the faint bubbling of water.
“Rafe,” you panted, glancing around, trying to make sense of where he’d brought you. “Where are we?”
He didn’t answer right away, his gaze fixed on you as he stepped closer. The golden glow of the setting sun cast a halo around your curls, and the soft veil still draped over your face gave you an ethereal quality that made his breath hitch. The pale ivory of your wedding dress clung to your glowing brown skin, the delicate lace catching the light in a way that was almost otherworldly.
Rafe, in his rumpled white linen shirt and unbuttoned collar, was the perfect foil to your pristine elegance. His sun-kissed skin and sharp blue eyes were wild, untamed, while you looked like a dream—soft, radiant, and untouchable. Together, you were chaos and beauty incarnate, a contrast so stark it was almost painful to look at.
You turned your gaze forward, and your breath caught again—not from the run this time, but from the scene unfolding in front of you.
A rose garden stretched out before you, its blooms a riot of pinks and whites, climbing over trellises and spilling across the stone paths. The scent of roses filled the air, sweet and intoxicating, mingling with the faint notes of a soft melody drifting through the garden. In the center stood a small fountain, its crystal-clear water sparkling as it trickled gently into the basin below.
“It’s beautiful,” you whispered, your voice barely audible as your eyes swept over the scene.
“I knew you’d like it,” Rafe said softly, his voice lower now, steady despite the lingering adrenaline in his system.
You turned to him, tears brimming in your eyes as your chest tightened. “You planned this,” you said, your voice trembling. “You planned all of this.”
His lips curved into a slow, knowing smirk, and he stepped closer, his hand brushing a stray curl from your face. “Of course I did,” he murmured. “You think I’d let you walk down that aisle? Let you choose him?” His hand slid to your cheek, his thumb grazing your skin, a stark contrast between his roughness and your softness. “I’ve been waiting for this moment, baby. Waiting for you to finally see what you were always meant to have.”
Tears slipped down your cheeks, and you shook your head slightly, your emotions threatening to overwhelm you. “This is crazy, Rafe,” you said, your voice breaking. “I left him. I left everyone. What am I doing?”
His other hand found your waist, pulling you closer until your bodies were flush, his blue eyes burning into yours. “You’re doing exactly what you were always meant to do,” he said, his voice firm, his words cutting through your spiraling thoughts. “You’re choosing yourself. For once in your life, you’re not doing what’s safe or expected. You’re doing what feels right.”
Your lips parted, a fresh wave of tears spilling as the weight of his words sank in. For so long, you’d chased the life everyone thought you should have, choosing stability over passion, security over risk. But now, standing in front of Rafe, his wildness calling to you like a siren’s song, you felt alive in a way you never had before.
The music swelled, wrapping around you like the petals scattered at your feet, and Rafe’s hand slid down to take yours. “Dance with me,” he said softly, his voice low and inviting.
You blinked up at him, startled. “Dance?”
His smirk returned, softer this time, as he pulled you closer. “Yeah. Dance.”
Your protest died in your throat as his arms circled your waist, his grip firm yet gentle, guiding you into a slow sway. The difference between you was striking—his sharp angles and commanding presence against your delicate curves and hesitant grace. His hand rested on the small of your back, steadying you as you let yourself fall into the rhythm of the moment.
As the melody wrapped around you both, Rafe leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear. “You’re so fucking beautiful,” he murmured, his voice thick with something unspoken. “I don’t deserve you, but I’m never letting you go.”
Your breath hitched, and before you could respond, his lips found yours. The kiss was slow, deliberate, and all-consuming, his hand sliding up your back to cradle your head as he deepened it. His other hand gripped your waist, pulling you closer, as though he could fuse your bodies together if he tried hard enough.
Your hands found his chest, your fingers curling into his shirt as you gave in completely. The heat of him, the weight of his presence, the taste of him—it all melted the doubt from your mind.
When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, his breath warm against your skin. “I’ve got you,” he whispered, his voice low and steady. “No one can touch you now. No one can take you from me. You’re belong with me.”
Your chest tightened, your tears falling freely now as you whispered, “I’m scared.”
“I know,” he said softly, his thumb brushing your cheek. “But you don’t have to be. Not with me.”
The music played on, the roses swayed gently in the breeze, and the fountain bubbled softly as the two of you stood there, lost in each other. For the first time, you weren’t running from the fire. You were standing in the heart of it, and it didn’t scare you anymore.
“Rafe…I love you.” You mumbled softly, hoping it’d get lost in the soft music, but it didn’t. He’d heard you.
“I know…” he replies with a smile, resting his head on top of your delicate curls. “I’d kill for you.” The words sent shivers down your spine, but you understood it was his way of him letting you know he loves you too.
The End.
188 notes · View notes
thatonegreyghost · 2 days ago
Text
"You know the hero is traditionally supposed to marry the princess, right?"
Cecilia looks at the knight, easily twice her age and definitely twice as heavy, and tries not to choke in disgust. Lucan, the prince from Corinth, was supposed to come rescue her from the monster- this one was a werewolf, she thinks? She never saw it- but gods forbid Lucan do anything helpful. He's too busy "sparring" with his personal guard, probably.
"Is that a fact, Princess?" The knight gruffs sharply. "Well, that's not going to happen here. You're hardly much older than my daughter. I don't think anyone should want a wife of you."
"I should hope not." Cecilia mutters. "I have no interest in merely being someone's wife."
"As you shouldn't. You're too young." The knight agrees. "Come on, then. My camp is over this way. You can stay in the tent, and we'll head out in the morning."
"And where will you sleep?" Cecilia questions.
Lucan always sleeps in the tent with her. Not next to her, not usually, but always in the tent with her. He'll always complain that it's too cold outside, and he can't possibly be made to stay in the cold. Of course, that's likely because Lucan is a complete wuss.
"I'll sleep by the fire, Princess. It isn't a hardship."
Speaking of, Cecilia thinks, this camp is wonderful. A small tent, soup bubbling over a small fire, and what looks to be the coziest blanket in the kingdom. The knight begins to take off his armor, placing his sword near Cecilia's feet. An act of trust, and honor.
"Oh, you're a much better knight than Lucan."
The knight laughs, shaking his head.
"Lucan? Lucan of Corinth? No wonder you were stuck in that lair for so long. Lucan couldn't fight his way out of a potato sack- just like his mother."
Cecilia might agree, but on principle, she has to defend Lucan. Even if he is a bit of a wet sock.
"Excuse you, sir, how could you say such things?" Cecilia scoffs.
The knight laughs a hearty laugh, shaking his head. His armor clangs as he sets down his breastplate, then, as he stirs the soup, he laughs again.
"Lucan is my son. My former wife, Queen Castella of Corinth, is his mother. She won't give him any money until he marries, so I work to get him out of that castle. Once I've gotten enough to get him some armor, I'll start taking him on jobs. He's not much good at fighting, but he's got a charming smile and he can navigate royals much better than me."
"You're..." Cecilia takes a small step back. "You're Galyn of Corinth. The knight of Corinth. You saved the queen from a dragon!"
"She saved herself. No one would believe her, so she picked up the scrawniest knight she could get her hands on. I worked hard to be a good knight, but I was no dragon killer. Not back then." Sir Galyn laughs. "Imagine our surprise when she was promised to me. I told her I could leave, if she wanted. She told me to stay."
"So... what happened?" Cecilia asks as she sits by the fire. "Everyone says you disappeared. But Lucan always says that his father is his favorite person, and you don't seem dishonorable."
"Well, it's simple. Castella and I outgrew each other. I wanted to mend things. She... didn't think we could."
"So you left?"
Sir Galyn shakes his head, gruffing and groaning as he dishes out soup for the two of them. He glares at nothing in particular, tossing a blanket towards Cecilia with a quiet "don't catch cold, now." and nothing more.
Cecilia eats her soup, quietly wondering about this man in front of her. Lucan has consistently praised him for being the best man he knows. Lucan is also about as smart as a basket of cottage cheese. And does the great Galyn of Corinth really have to stoop so low as to take lowly rescuing jobs? Those are for young knights who would be better suited to palace life- one grand gesture they can coast on for the rest of their lives. Most princesses are lucky- they get a kind man, an honorable knight. But this...
"I didn't leave, Princess. She kicked me out." Sir Galyn reveals. "I couldn't stop fighting nobles for making lewd comments about young servant girls. I couldn't leave it that children were starving and freezing in the streets. She said I wasn't the man she married. I just never became the prince she wanted."
Cecilia eats her soup, not daring to look at Sir Galyn. She is more curious now, especially now that she knows this is Lucan's father.
"Why take Lucan with you? He is Corinth's only heir." Cecilia asks eventually.
"Well, see, Lucan has some specific preferences that Corinth won't tolerate." Sir Galyn mutters. "Were this my home country, it wouldn't be an issue, but his mother is starting to get nasty about it."
"So... You're paying to take him away?"
"It's as you said, Princess. He is Corinth's only heir. His mother will fight to keep him, even at the cost of his life."
Cecilia remembers, quite viscerally and suddenly, how she saw Lucan playing with a knife at a ball last year. He was drunk- most of them were, as the wine was quite strong and the weather was quite cold- but the ease with which he had settled that knife against his throat terrified her. He had spent two hours talking to her, during which time she confessed that she did not ever wish to marry, and would allow her younger brother to take the throne. She even detailed her plans to move to a convent.
A month later, he had begun courting her. At the time, she saw it as a betrayal of her trust. Now, she's not so sure.
"I hope you succeed." Cecilia blurts out. "Lucan can be a bit of an ass on occasion, but he deserves to be happy. Everyone does, I think."
"Aye, Princess, that we do." Sir Galyn says. "Sleep. I'll take you home in the morning."
The princess has been rescued, hooray! But to her dismay the hero isn't young and handsome, instead he's a middle aged divorcee who took the job to pay alimony and child support.
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