#warmed by the little murmurs of the crowds

[rottenfyre]

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ 𓇼 ࣪ SOFT LIPS 𓈒ㅤׂㅤ⭒⠀

☆⁠ PAIRING : Robins x Fem Reader

☆⁠ SYNOPSIS : When They Kiss You For The First Time.

☆⁠ CHARACTERS : Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, 90s Tim Drake, Damian Wayne.

☆⁠ NOTES : Teenagers in love. English is not my first language. Hope you enjoy!

⎯ DICK GRAYSON

The carnival lights reflected in his bright blue eyes as he held your hand, weaving through the crowd. His grip was steady, comforting, like he’d never let go. You couldn’t help but laugh when he insisted on winning the biggest stuffed animal at the ring toss—something he accomplished on his second throw, much to the vendor’s surprise. “Ta-da!” Dick grinned, presenting the oversized bear with a dramatic bow. “For the lady.” “Wow, my knight in shining armor,” you teased, hugging the plushie close. “How lucky am I?” “Pretty lucky,” he said with a playful smirk. But then his expression softened, his free hand brushing a strand of hair out of your face. “But not as lucky as me.” You opened your mouth to retort, but before you could, Dick leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in a sweet, tender kiss. The world seemed to fade away, the carnival noise replaced by the rapid thumping of your heart. When he pulled back, his cheeks were slightly flushed, and he was grinning like an idiot. “So…do you like it?” he asked nervously. “Yeah,” you breathed, still dazed. “I like it.”

⎯ JASON TODD

Jason wasn’t one for grand romantic gestures—at least, that’s what he’d always claimed. But here you were, sitting with him on his motorcycle under a clear night sky, the city far behind you. The stars above seemed brighter out here, but nothing compared to the way Jason was looking at you. “You cold?” he asked, tugging his jacket off before you could even answer. He draped it over your shoulders, his hands lingering just a little longer than necessary. “Thanks,” you murmured, your voice barely audible over the sound of your own racing heartbeat. Jason sat back, running a hand through his hair, looking almost… nervous? It was rare to see him like this—unguarded, almost vulnerable. He opened his mouth, then closed it, clearly searching for the right words. Finally, he let out a frustrated huff and turned to you. “Screw it,” he muttered, leaning in quickly before you could react. His lips were warm and surprisingly soft against yours, and though the kiss was a little rough around the edges—just like him—it was perfect. When he pulled back, his cheeks were slightly flushed, and he avoided your gaze. “You… uh… okay with that?” he asked, his voice gruff but quieter than usual. You smiled, leaning in to kiss him again in response, and this time, he didn’t hesitate to kiss you back, his hands settling on your waist as if he’d been waiting for this forever.

⎯ 90s TIM DRAKE

Tim was pacing. Again. You watched him from your spot on the couch, biting back a laugh as he ran a hand through his messy black hair for the fifth time in as many minutes. His cheeks were pink, and he looked like he was trying to psych himself up for something monumental. “Tim, are you okay?” you finally asked, unable to contain your amusement any longer. “Yeah! Yeah, I’m fine,” he said quickly, stopping mid-pace to face you. He hesitated, his lips pressing together before he let out a deep breath. “Actually, no, I’m not fine. There’s something I’ve been meaning to do, and I’m kind of freaking out about it.” You tilted your head, curiosity piqued. “What is it?” Instead of answering, Tim crossed the room in three quick steps. Before you could even process what was happening, his hands were on your shoulders, and he kissed you. It was sweet, hesitant, like he was testing the waters, but it sent your heart soaring. When he pulled back, his face was redder than ever, and he wouldn’t meet your eyes. “I—uh—sorry if that was too sudden,” he stammered, scratching the back of his neck. “Tim,” you interrupted, grabbing his hand. When he finally looked at you, you leaned in and kissed him again, this time with a confidence that made him melt.

⎯ DAMIAN WAYNE

Damian didn’t do things halfway. When he decided he wanted to kiss you, he spent an embarrassing amount of time researching “perfect first kisses” to make sure it went exactly right. But now that the moment was here, all his carefully laid plans had flown out the window. The two of you were walking through the Wayne estate gardens, the moonlight casting a soft glow over the flowers. Damian had been quieter than usual, his hand brushing against yours every so often but never quite holding it. “Damian?” you said softly, stopping to look at him. “Is something wrong?” He turned to face you, his green eyes intense. “No, I just…” He hesitated, clenching and unclenching his fists. “I have something I wish to do, but I…lack experience in such matters.” You blinked, confused. “What do you mean?” Damian took a deep breath, stepping closer. “I wish to kiss you.” Your eyes widened, your heart racing. “Oh.” “May I?” he asked, his voice quieter now, almost vulnerable. You nodded, unable to form words. Slowly, Damian cupped your face in his hands, his movements surprisingly gentle. When his lips finally met yours, it was soft and careful, like he was afraid of hurting you. Despite his nervousness, the kiss was perfect, leaving you both slightly breathless. When he pulled back, he cleared his throat, his cheeks tinged pink. “That…was satisfactory, I hope?” You couldn’t help but laugh, leaning into him. “More than satisfactory, Damian.”

ʀᴏᴛᴛᴇɴꜰʏʀᴇ: ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ, ᴛʀᴀɴꜱʟᴀᴛᴇ ᴏʀ ᴜꜱᴇ ᴀɴʏ ᴏꜰ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋꜱ ʜᴇʀᴇ ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ᴡᴇʙꜱɪᴛᴇꜱ.

[my-castles-crumbling]

ball - Jegulus Microfic - @into-the-jeggyverse - word count: 311

'This is stupid,' a little voice in the back of Regulus's head mutters, trying to stop him as he walks nervously toward the looming grandstands of the Pitch. 'This is cheesy and stupid and he's going to think-'

"Hi." A warm, low voice interrupts his self-loathing and he looks up into stunning hazel eyes.

"Hey," he murmurs, breathless. Fuck James Potter for having this effect on him. "I saw you in the crowd." It's a bit of an understatement. He'd been severely distracted, looking for the glint of James's glasses in the stands over and over, his stomach doing advanced gymnastics every time he'd flown past the older boy and heard him yelling his name.

"Good. You did fantastic, baby," James grins, pulling him into his arms.

There it is. Baby. Like Regulus belongs to him, in the best way.

"Thanks," is all he can muster. And it's strange, because he can fly in front of a crowd of hundreds, brave murderous balls pelting at him as he zips through the air two hundred feet in the air, but this... this is terrifying. But he tries to allow the feeling of the arms surrounding him to keep him steady. "I caught this for you," he nearly-whispers, holding out the small, glittering, gold ball, offering it to a beaming James Potter.

James's answering smile could have lit up the entire country. "For me?" he asks, thrilled, like he's been gifted something a lot more precious than a measly Snitch. He pulls back, gently taking the ball and looks at it like it's the best gift in the whole world. "Thank you."

And Regulus can't handle the softness of the moment, so he gives a soft chuckle. "Well, it means we're beating you in the Cup standings, so...you're welcome for that."

But James just pulls him into a kiss that leaves him breathless.

[bewaryofpity]

thinking of best friend luke 😵‍💫

oh yes please he’s always on my mind 

bsf!luke who is the biggest little shit and tries to constantly get his hands on you. arm resting on your shoulder, holding your hand for no reason at all, his hand covering almost the entire small of your back to lead you through the crowds. he’s been heavy on physical touch since the start of your friendship and you never really minded. you love it actually, because he’s so much taller and bigger than you it makes you giddy.

and how could it bother you when on nights like this you’re at the lake house with the guys and there isn’t a single chair available so you get to sit in his lap.

it’s the middle of summer and it’s hot and humid so the only thing covering your body is one of his baseball jerseys that he so adamantly wanted you to wear from day one. certainly not because trevor has been flirting with you since you arrived, just to piss luke off. he knew that, of course. everytime trevor compliments your outfit or stares at your ass when you’re sunbathing, he looks at luke and of course luke is seething.

just like right now, his thigh tensing underneath you after trevor purposefully tilted the beer bottle at your mouth so some of the liquid could dribble down your chin and onto your boobs. and you feel it, your own legs clenching as heat pools in your core. luke’s hand comes from behind to dry your skin, the tips of his long fingers brushing at your now hardened nipples through your bathing suit and you think he knows exactly what he’s doing. 

he didn’t miss the way your legs close around his thigh as his hand reached for your chest and he definitely doesn’t miss the shiver running down your spine when his hands come to wrap around your hips.

“are you cold, angel?” his lips gaze at the skin of your neck as he speaks, voice audible only to you. you turn your face in his direction just slightly to murmur a small no, not really trusting your voice. and trevor is snickering next to you because he has the perfect view of luke’s hands gripping your hips tightly after he tried to so kindly help you dry up too with his own hand, unsuccessful as luke swatted at it way before he could raise it. 

and that fucker can tell his teasing is working. you’re starting to get sensitive and his hands drop to your thighs, moving back and forth to warm you up, his thumbs brushing almost at your core. the heat rises in your core and you’re almost certain your body is betraying you when you feel your bikini getting damp.

“let’s go upstairs and warm you up. you’re shivering, angel.” oh, you’re certain now that he’s doing all this on purpose.

[magical-reid]

Only if You Hold My Hand

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Gn!Reader

Word Count: 1.1K

Prompt: 7: “Go with me?” “Only if you hold my hand.”

Summary: Nervously, you ask Spencer to join you at a pop-up art exhibit, only to have him unexpectedly request that you hold his hand to help him navigate the crowds. As the evening unfolds, the simple gesture sparks the beginning of something more between the two of you.

The BAU’s bullpen was unusually quiet for a Thursday evening, the soft hum of computers and the occasional rustling of papers the only sounds breaking the stillness. A low murmur of voices drifted from the break room, but it did little to disrupt the otherwise tranquil atmosphere. You were seated at your desk, nervously twirling a pen between your fingers, your mind circling around the task you’d set for yourself. Spencer sat a few desks away, his brow furrowed in concentration as he worked through a stack of case files, his posture so focused it was almost as if the world had shrunk down to the papers in front of him.

You had been staring at him for the better part of ten minutes, your thoughts racing but never quite finding the words you needed. The sensation of nerves bubbled in your stomach, leaving you restless. Your heart thudded unevenly in your chest, a constant reminder of the request you were about to make. Your palms, damp with anxiety, clung to the cool surface of your desk. It was a simple request, really—asking Spencer to go somewhere with you. Yet the mere thought of asking him, someone who had quietly captured your heart over the last year, left you on edge.

You didn’t want to admit it, but you’d been planning for this moment all day. The art exhibit was an easy excuse—something you’d found out about earlier in the week. But it was never really about the exhibit. You just wanted to spend time with him, in a way that felt normal and unforced. Still, as you watched him read the case files, you couldn’t shake the fear of being rejected.

You took a deep breath, forcing yourself to stand, your legs feeling a little unsteady as you walked toward him. The clack of your shoes against the hard floor seemed loud in the otherwise quiet bullpen, but you forced yourself to keep going.

“Spencer,” you said, your voice a little too high, betraying the nervousness you were trying so hard to keep in check. You swallowed, your throat tight as you tried again, this time forcing a casual tone. “I was wondering if you’d come with me to something.”

He looked up from his case files, his honey-brown eyes soft behind his glasses, taking in the sudden shift in your demeanor. He blinked, setting the file down carefully as he adjusted his position in his chair. “Oh, hey,” he said, his voice warm and inviting. “Did you need help with something?”

“No,” you said quickly, shaking your head. “I mean, yes, but not with a case.” You paused, taking a steadying breath as you clasped your hands together, trying to keep them from fidgeting. “I just… There’s this thing happening downtown tonight. A pop-up art exhibit. I thought it might be fun, but I didn’t want to go alone.”

His brows furrowed slightly, his expression shifting from curiosity to a mix of surprise and thoughtfulness. He tilted his head in that familiar way that made your heart skip a beat, and for a moment, you wondered if you’d overstepped. Spencer, after all, was rarely the first to say yes to an invitation that took him outside his comfort zone.

“Go with you?” he repeated, his voice thoughtful, but not dismissive.

You nodded quickly, biting your lip, and your words rushed out, almost a breathless confession. “Yeah. It’s no big deal, just something I thought would be fun. But, you know, I didn’t want to go alone. I thought maybe you’d want to join me?”

Spencer’s gaze flickered over your face, lingering there in a way that made your cheeks flush with heat. His lips parted slightly, as if he were about to say something, but then he hesitated, brow furrowing in that way that made you wonder if you’d misjudged the situation. A few long seconds stretched on between you, your stomach tightening with each passing moment. But then, to your surprise, he gave you a small, shy smile—one you had come to cherish over the last few months, even if he didn’t always realize how much it meant.

“I’d love to go,” he said, his voice tentative but warm. “But… I have to admit, I’m not great with crowds.” He rubbed the back of his neck nervously, a gesture that mirrored the anxious energy you were feeling. “I think I’d feel better if, uh… if we held hands while we were there.”

Your breath caught in your throat, the unexpected sweetness of his request throwing you off balance. It was almost too much for a moment—Spencer, the man who was brilliant and awkward in equal measure, asking for something so simple, yet so intimate.

“What?” you managed to say, your voice barely above a whisper, unable to fully grasp what he had just said.

He ducked his head slightly, a pink hue blooming across his cheeks as he stammered. “I mean… I just—I think I’d feel a lot better if you, you know… held my hand. Would that be okay?”

Your heart fluttered at the vulnerability in his voice. The quiet, tentative way he asked was so very Spencer, and it softened you in ways you hadn’t expected.

“I’d be happy to,” you said softly, your lips curving into a smile that felt more genuine than you’d expected.

A visible wave of relief washed over him, his shoulders relaxing as he seemed to find solid ground again. You caught him fidgeting with the edge of the file he had been holding, his fingers nervously drumming the paper as if he wasn’t sure what to do next.

“Okay,” he said, his voice lighter now. “Let me just grab my coat.”

You smiled as he stood and moved to his desk, gathering his things. The tension in the air between you had shifted, replaced by something warmer, more comfortable. The nerves that had gripped you both seemed to fade as Spencer slipped on his jacket, and the two of you stepped out of the bullpen together.

As you made your way toward the elevator, the crisp evening air welcoming you outside, your hand brushed against his. The contact, so brief yet electric, sent a jolt through you, and you hesitated for only a second. Then, with a little more confidence than you felt, you slipped your fingers between his, intertwining them in a way that felt so natural, so right, that it made your heart beat faster.

Spencer glanced down at your joined hands, a small but genuine smile tugging at the corner of his lips. He didn’t say anything, but the way his eyes softened told you everything you needed to know.

“Thanks for asking me,” he said quietly, his voice so tender that it made your chest feel full.

You squeezed his hand gently, your heart racing but in a different way now. “Thanks for saying yes.”

In that simple moment, walking side by side toward the evening ahead, you knew that tonight wouldn’t just be the start of something new—it would be the beginning of a journey neither of you had fully anticipated, but both were more than ready to embrace.

[moonselune]

companions and drunk reader crying and cuddling with scratch + owlbear :33

I did this set at the reunion party because for some reason I thought that was part of the prompt but hey ho, some fluff to warm our souls and brighten us up during this darkside of the year <3

Karlach:

The reunion party was in full swing, the lively hum of conversation and laughter filling the air. Music played from a makeshift ensemble, and the scent of roasted meat and ale mingled with the crisp night breeze. You and Karlach had been inseparable for most of the evening, both of you reveling in the joy of being free from the hellish grasp of Avernus - even if it was a brief respite. Friends surrounded you, their faces lit with genuine smiles—a rare luxury in the trials you’d all endured together.

But as the night wore on and the drinks flowed freely, Karlach found herself chatting animatedly with Wyll and Gale about some shared escapades. It wasn’t until a lull in the conversation that she noticed your absence.

Her brow furrowed as she scanned the crowd. Where had you gone? You’d been right beside her just moments ago. Her heart sank slightly as her mind played through the possibilities, but then she noticed a faint commotion near the far side of the camp, where the light of the bonfire barely reached.

Curiosity and concern prompted her to investigate.

As she approached, Karlach was met with a sight that was both hilarious and heartwarming. There you were, sprawled on the ground, your cheeks flushed from too much drink, nestled comfortably between Scratch, who was contentedly licking your face, and the owlbear cub—no longer a cub but still unmistakably affectionate. The owlbear had draped itself partially over your lap, its massive body radiating warmth, while you murmured incoherent endearments and occasionally giggled.

“You are such a good boy, Scratch,” you slurred, scratching behind the dog’s ears with one hand while your other patted the owlbear’s soft feathers. “And you—big ol’ fluff monster—you’re my second-best friend in the whole wide world. Don’t tell Scratch, though.”

The owlbear let out a low, rumbling coo, and Scratch wagged his tail enthusiastically.

Karlach leaned against a nearby tree, arms crossed, and just watched you for a moment, her expression softening. The firelight caught in her amber eyes, reflecting the warmth she felt in her chest. After everything you’d been through—fighting, surviving, struggling—it was moments like these that made it all worthwhile. Seeing you so carefree, surrounded by creatures who adored you, filled her with a quiet contentment.

“Well, well,” she drawled, stepping closer, her voice laced with affection. “I leave you alone for five minutes, and you’ve already gone and replaced me with fur and feathers.”

You looked up at her, blinking owlishly, and broke into a wide, dopey grin. “Karlach! Join us! There’s so much love here, it’s like… like a cuddle explosion!”

She chuckled, her heart melting a little more. “A cuddle explosion, huh? Sounds dangerous.”

“It’s the best kind of dangerous,” you declared, patting the ground beside you.

Karlach didn’t need much convincing. With a theatrical sigh, she dropped to the ground beside you, her warm body pressing against yours. Scratch immediately climbed into her lap, while the owlbear shuffled closer to include her in its feathery embrace.

“You know,” she said, her voice low and tender, “I think this might be the happiest I’ve ever seen you.”

“‘Cause I’m with you,” you mumbled, resting your head on her shoulder. “And Scratch. And Big Fluffy. It’s perfect.”

Karlach wrapped an arm around you, her fingers tracing lazy circles on your back.

“You’re perfect, babe” she murmured, pressing a kiss to your temple.

Minthara:

The reunion party was a raucous affair, the camp alive with laughter, clinking mugs, and the occasional outburst of song. Minthara had joined reluctantly at your insistence, her usual composed demeanor barely hiding the faint amusement she felt as she observed the chaos.

The Drow paladin rarely indulged in such frivolity, the two of you had an Underdark to conquor afterall, but tonight she allowed herself to linger, even engaging in a deep conversation with Astarion, who had recently returned to the Underdark to settle down.

As the two shared dry wit and sharp banter, Minthara’s keen eyes darted across the camp, instinctively searching for you. When she realized you were nowhere in sight, she narrowed her eyes.

"Where has that fool wandered off to now?" she muttered under her breath, much to Astarion’s amusement.

“Ah, love,” Astarion quipped, a sly smirk on his lips. “It makes us chase after them even when we’d rather not.”

Minthara rolled her eyes but didn’t deny it. She excused herself, muttering something about responsibility, and began to search for you. It didn’t take long—muffled giggles and low, rumbling noises led her toward the outskirts of the gathering. There, illuminated by the faint glow of the moonlight, she found you sprawled on the ground.

You were nestled between Scratch and the owlbear cub—though it had long since outgrown the 'cub' moniker—and were clearly the drunkest she had ever seen you. Your face was flushed, your hair mussed, and your arms were wrapped tightly around the two creatures as if they were your most precious treasures.

“Listen,” you whispered conspiratorially to the owlbear, though your volume defeated the purpose. “We’re gonna take over the Underdark. Me, you, Scratch, and Minthara. She’s so scary and smart. We’ll rule everything. But don’t tell her—it’s a secret plan.”

Minthara crossed her arms, raising an eyebrow as she approached.

"A secret plan, is it?" she asked, her voice dripping with mock disdain. “Taking over the Underdark with a dog and an owlbear? Truly, you’re a visionary.”

You looked up at her with wide, bleary eyes, your face breaking into a sloppy grin.

“Minthara! You found me!” you exclaimed, holding out a hand. “Join us! It’s a cuddle coup.”

She sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose, though there was a flicker of amusement in her crimson eyes.

“You’re insufferable,” she muttered, turning to walk away.

But before she could take a step, you staggered to your feet with surprising agility for someone so far gone. With a triumphant shout, you lunged at her, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her down to the ground.

Minthara yelped in surprise, glaring daggers at you as she landed unceremoniously on the grass.

“Have you lost your mind?” she snapped, but her anger quickly gave way to resignation as Scratch and the owlbear cub immediately joined in, nuzzling against her.

She froze, her normally stern expression softening as Scratch licked her cheek and the owlbear rumbled contentedly. She didn’t push them away, though she grumbled, “You’ve turned me into a damned pillow.”

You beamed at her, your face close to hers as you slurred, “You’re the best pillow ever. And the best everything else. I adore you, Minthara. You, Scratch, Owlie—you're all my favorite.”

Her cheeks darkened with a faint blush, though she refused to acknowledge it.

“You’re drunk,” she said curtly, her voice lacking its usual sharpness.

“And in love,” you replied with drunken sincerity, leaning in to press a kiss to her lips. It was sloppy and uncoordinated, but Minthara didn’t pull away. She sighed, her hand coming to rest on your cheek for just a moment before she let it fall.

“I'm going to kill you,” she muttered, though her tone was more affectionate than irritated.

You grinned, nuzzling against her like a contented cat. “I can't wait.”

Minthara rolled her eyes, though a small, almost imperceptible smile played at the corners of her mouth. As Scratch and the owlbear settled around you both, she resigned herself to her fate, lying back against the grass and letting the warmth of the moment wash over her.

Perhaps you were impossible. But you were hers.

Lae'zel:

The reunion party was in full swing, the air buzzing with laughter, music, and the clinking of mugs. You’d coaxed Lae’zel into attending, promising her that Xan, your precious hatchling, would be fine under the watchful eyes of Voss and the rebels - who were surprisingly more than happy to look after him. Though she had reluctantly agreed, you noticed her gaze drifting toward the camp’s perimeter now and then, her brows furrowed with that familiar Githyanki intensity.

“Relax, Lae’zel,” you teased, nudging her gently. “Xan is fine. Tonight is about us.”

Lae’zel gave you a skeptical glance but said nothing, her hand brushing against yours briefly—a rare public display of affection from her that made your heart swell. For a while, the two of you enjoyed the festivities, sharing drinks and banter with your companions. But as the evening wore on and the wine flowed more freely, you became… well, significantly more inebriated.

At some point, Lae’zel turned to speak with Wyll, who was recounting one of his latest exploits. When she turned back, you were gone.

Her jaw clenched as she scanned the crowd, her warrior instincts kicking in despite the harmless nature of the gathering. She stomped through the camp, muttering curses under her breath as she searched for you.

“You couldn’t stay in one place, could you?” she growled.

It wasn’t long before she heard familiar, albeit slurred, murmuring. Following the sound, she found you sprawled on the ground near the campfire, flanked by Scratch and the now nearly full-grown owlbear cub. Tears streamed down your face as you hugged the animals close, stroking their fur and feathers.

“I love her so much,” you sobbed into Scratch’s neck. “And Xan. Xan is perfect. Perfect little hatchling.”

Lae’zel froze, her expression caught between exasperation and disbelief. She crossed her arms and glared down at you. “What are you doing, fool?”

You looked up at her, your face lighting up with drunken joy.

“Lae’zel!” you cried, holding out your arms. “You’re here! You’re so amazing, and strong, and—hic—beautiful. I love you.”

Lae’zel pinched the bridge of her nose, her shoulders heaving with a deep sigh.

“You are worse than Xan when he is hungry,” she muttered. Turning her attention to the animals, she pointed toward the river. “Drag this mess into the water. Perhaps it will sober them up.”

Scratch tilted his head, his tail wagging, while the owlbear let out a soft, rumbling croon. They looked at her, clearly uninterested in complying.

You giggled, stroking the owlbear’s feathers. “They like you, Lae’zel. They know you’re the best. Everyone knows you’re the best.”

Lae’zel’s irritation flickered, her lips pressing into a tight line as she fought to suppress the small smile threatening to emerge.

“You’re insufferable,” she declared, but there was no venom in her tone.

At her words, you burst into fresh tears. “Xan is so lucky to have you as a mom. I’m so lucky! How did I get so lucky?”

Lae’zel knelt beside you, her movements stiff but deliberate as she pulled you upright and into her arms.

“You’re drunk and ridiculous,” she said, her voice low but steady.

You wrapped your arms around her, clinging tightly. “But I love you,” you mumbled into her shoulder.

Lae’zel let out a small, exasperated sigh, but she didn’t push you away. Instead, she adjusted her grip, holding you firmly against her.

Her fingers brushed against your hair as she murmured, “You are fortunate I have patience tonight.”

You snuggled into her embrace, your tears finally subsiding as warmth and exhaustion took over. Though her expression remained stoic, a faint, hidden smile tugged at the corners of her lips. She did love you, she loved Xan, and the feathered and furred beasts weren't too bad either.

Shadowheart:

The reunion party was a vibrant celebration, a gathering of friends, companions, and allies, each reveling in the hard-won peace after so many battles. You and Shadowheart stood together, hand in hand, sharing a quiet joy amid the merriment. The news that the owlbear cub—now a formidable but still affectionate creature—would be coming back to your farm had filled you both with delight. The prospect of a peaceful life on your little slice of the countryside, surrounded by Scratch, the owlbear, your other small army of animals and each other, was everything you’d dreamed of.

You’d both mingled, laughed, and shared drinks, but at some point, Shadowheart turned to grab another bottle of wine, only to find you had disappeared. Her brow furrowed, though she didn’t panic. You weren’t exactly subtle when you were drunk, and it wasn’t hard to follow the sound of your voice, rising in animated, tearful elation.

When she finally found you, Shadowheart couldn’t help but pause, her arms crossing as she observed the scene before her. You were seated on the grass near the campfire, Scratch pressed against your side, his tail wagging lazily, while the owlbear nestled on the other side, its feathers ruffled as you gently stroked its beak.

“And you’re gonna love the farm,” you slurred, gesturing wildly with the bottle in your hand. “There’s fields to run in, and soft places to sleep, and you two—” you sniffed, your voice breaking slightly as you turned to the animals— “are gonna be so happy. So loved.”

The owlbear let out a deep, contented rumble, and Scratch licked your cheek, which only made your drunken tears flow harder. Shadowheart raised an eyebrow, her lips quirking into a small smile.

��You’re really laying it on thick, aren’t you?” she said, stepping into the firelight.

Your head snapped up, your face lighting up as if you’d seen the sun itself.

“Shadowheart!” you cried, scrambling to your feet only to stumble and flop back onto the grass. “You’re here! Come here, come here—cuddle pile!”

Shadowheart sighed but couldn’t suppress her amused grin as you reached out for her.

“You’re hopeless,” she muttered, though there was no real bite to her words. She approached and allowed herself to be pulled down into the pile of fur and feathers, the owlbear shifting to make room for her as Scratch barked happily.

“This is the best night ever,” you declared, wrapping your arms around her and pressing a kiss to her temple. “I’m so happy, Shadowheart. We’re gonna have the best life. You, me, Scratch, and this big feathery baby.”

She shook her head, laughing softly as she snatched the bottle from your hand.

“You’ve had enough,” she said, taking a swig herself. The wine burned pleasantly as it went down, and she let out a contented sigh. “Though I suppose I can’t argue with your enthusiasm.”

As the night wore on, Shadowheart found herself caught up in your infectious joy. She joined in on your rambling talks of the future—of gardens you’d plant, adventures you’d take, and all the little moments of happiness waiting for you both.

“You know,” she said, her voice soft as she leaned her head against your shoulder, “I think you’re right. This is going to be a good life.”

Your only response was a drunken hum of agreement, your arms tightening around her as the warmth of the fire, the animals, and each other enveloped you both. In that moment, everything felt perfect. Everything was perfect. Everything was going to be perfect.

Jaheira:

The reunion party was in full swing, laughter and music filling the air as friends and allies celebrated the peace you had all fought so hard to achieve. You and Jaheira stood together for much of the evening, your hand occasionally brushing against hers in a quiet intimacy. She was radiant in her element, speaking with old friends, trading stories of past battles, and offering wisdom to those who sought it.

At some point, she became engrossed in a conversation with Halsin, the two of them naturally drawn together by their shared love for nature and nurturing. Their talk turned to the orphans Halsin had come to care for, and Jaheira, with her ever-compassionate heart, shared tales of her own tendency to adopt and guide wayward children.

“I suppose I can’t help myself,” she admitted with a soft chuckle. “Perhaps it’s the druid in me, or perhaps just the mother.”

Halsin nodded with a knowing smile. “It’s a noble trait, Jaheira. The world is better for it.”

But as Jaheira began to share another story, she realized something: you were no longer at her side. She scanned the crowd, her brow furrowing in mild irritation.

“Speaking of wayward children,” she muttered under her breath, excusing herself from Halsin with a polite nod. “Now where have you wandered off to?”

It wasn’t hard to track you down; she simply followed the faint sound of sniffling and tearful rambling. What she found made her stop in her tracks, crossing her arms with an exasperated sigh.

There you were, sprawled on the grass near the fire, clutching Scratch and the owlbear cub—though it was hardly a cub anymore. The owlbear sat with a dignified sort of calm, its feathers ruffled from your clumsy affection, while Scratch lay happily across your lap, his tail wagging lazily.

“And you guys,” you sniffled, gesturing to the animals with the bottle still clutched in one hand, “you’re the best. I love you so much. You’re good boys. The best boys.”

Jaheira approached, shaking her head as she took in the sight of you, your face red from tears and wine.

“What on earth are you doing?” she asked, though her voice held a note of amusement. You looked up, your tear-streaked face lighting up at the sight of her.

“Jaheira!” you cried, holding your arms out dramatically. “You’re here! Come cuddle with us!”

“Cuddle?” she repeated, raising an eyebrow. “Darling, you’re drunk.”

“I’m emotional,” you corrected, your voice wobbling as fresh tears welled in your eyes. “And you have to cuddle with us, or—or I’ll never forgive you! Ever!”

Jaheira sighed, pressing a hand to her forehead as though trying to muster the patience of a saint.

“You are worse than Halsin's orphans,” she teased, but there was no mistaking the warmth in her tone. “And that’s saying something.”

Your lip wobbled, and you clutched Scratch tighter.

“Please,” you whimpered, the plea so earnest and pitiful that Jaheira couldn’t help but laugh.

“All right, all right,” she said, holding her hands up in mock surrender. “If it means that much to you.”

She knelt beside you, allowing you to pull her into the chaotic cuddle pile. The owlbear gave a soft hoot, adjusting its position to include her, while Scratch wagged his tail even harder at her presence.

“See?” you murmured, wrapping your arms around her as you leaned heavily against her shoulder. “This is nice. Isn’t it nice?”

Jaheira let out a long-suffering sigh, though a smile tugged at her lips as she rested her head against yours.

“You’re ridiculously impossible,” she said softly. “But yes, this is… nice.”

For a while, the two of you sat there, surrounded by warmth and fur and feathers. Jaheira found herself relaxing despite the absurdity of the situation, her arm slipping around your waist as she pressed a soft kiss to your temple.

“You’re lucky I love you,” she murmured. You hummed happily, nuzzling into her shoulder.

“I know,” you slurred, the wine making your voice thick. “And I love you, too. So, so much.”

Jaheira chuckled, shaking her head as she tightened her hold on you.

“You’ll be the death of me,” she said fondly. “But I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Gale:

The reunion party buzzed with energy, laughter and conversation flowing freely among friends old and new - thanks to Minsc's addition. You and Gale were nestled in a quieter corner of the celebration, a glass of wine in your hand and Gale gesturing animatedly with his own as he launched into an impassioned tale about his latest trials as a professor at Blackstaff Academy.

“…and would you believe it? One of the students thought it prudent to attempt wild magic on their first evocation test! I spent half the afternoon dispelling chaos and putting out fires—literal fires—and the other half explaining why summoning imps in a classroom was hardly conducive to learning.”

You nodded along, smiling as you watched the way his eyes lit up when he spoke of his work. His passion was endearing, and yet… a mischievous thought crept into your mind as you caught sight of Scratch wagging his tail nearby, the owlbear cub—no longer quite a cub—lounging lazily beside him.

When Gale paused to take a sip of his wine, you saw your chance.

“Fascinating,” you said quickly, standing and pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Be right back, love.”

He blinked, caught off guard but easily reassured by the peck. “Oh, certainly. Don’t wander too far.”

You didn’t answer, instead making a beeline for the animals. A few moments later, you were leading Scratch and the owlbear cub away from the main gathering, giggling to yourself as you went. An hour later, Gale finally noticed your absence and set off to find you.

He tracked you down by the sound of your voice, soft and teasing as you lounged in a quiet grove just beyond the party. There you were, sprawled on the grass with Scratch snuggled into one side and the owlbear cub resting its heavy head on your lap. Your cheeks were flushed with drink, your eyes glassy with a mix of affection and mischief.

“And Gale,” you slurred, stroking the owlbear’s feathers as if imparting some great wisdom, “wanted to be a god. A god! Can you believe it? Silly Gale. He doesn’t need to be a god. He’s already… already my god. My love, my life…” Your voice dropped conspiratorially, and you hiccupped. “But he would’ve been a prick as a god. Don’t you think?”

“Do you think so?” Gale’s amused voice cut in, and you turned your head to see him standing there, arms crossed but a fond smile tugging at his lips. You gasped dramatically.

“Gale!” You grinned at him, patting the grass beside you. “Come here! Join us! Cuddle!”

“I think not,” he said, though the smile on his face betrayed him. “Someone has to ensure you don’t declare my divine candidacy to the owlbear.”

Your grin wavered, and you pouted, your bottom lip trembling as your eyes filled with exaggerated tears.

“You won’t cuddle with me?” you sniffled, your voice wobbling. “You don’t love me anymore?”

Gale’s resolve crumbled instantly. He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You know I can’t say no to that face.”

With a dramatic flourish, you opened your arms wide. “Then get over here, Professor Dekarios!”

He rolled his eyes but couldn’t hide the laughter bubbling in his chest as he lowered himself to the grass beside you. Scratch immediately wriggled over to press against his side, while the owlbear gave a satisfied huff and shifted to accommodate him. You threw your arms around him, nuzzling into his chest as if he were the most comfortable pillow in the world.

“See?” you murmured, your voice soft and content. “This is perfect. My god. My Gale.”

He chuckled, pressing a kiss to your hair. “I suppose there are worse fates than being your god. Though next time, perhaps less wine and more water.”

You hummed in agreement, already half-asleep against him. Gale shook his head, his heart full as he tightened his arms around you and let the peaceful moment wash over him.

Astarion:

The reunion party was in full swing, with the warm glow of laughter and clinking glasses filling the air. You and Astarion had arrived arm-in-arm, though the two of you quickly found yourselves mingling with different groups. Astarion had gravitated toward Minthara, the two of them caught in an animated conversation about how you and he had adjusted to life in the Underdark—a topic Astarion spoke of with a surprising fondness.

You, however, had been immediately distracted by Scratch, whose wagging tail and joyful demeanor were too much to resist. You’d spent some time tossing a stick for him before finding the owlbear cub—now fully grown—lounging nearby. One thing led to another, and soon enough, you’d wandered off, leaving Astarion none the wiser.

When he finally noticed your absence, it was only because Minthara raised an eyebrow mid-conversation. “It seems your partner has… disappeared.”

Astarion sighed, his eyes scanning the crowd. “They do tend to wander, don’t they? One moment they’re here, the next, they’ve likely befriended every stray within a ten-mile radius.”

It didn’t take him long to find you. The sound of your drunken sniffles and delighted murmurs led him to a quiet corner of the grove, where you were sprawled on the grass, your arms wrapped around Scratch and the owlbear cub. Your cheeks were flushed, your eyes glassy, and you were mid-sentence in what appeared to be an earnest declaration.

“You’re just… so cute,” you hiccupped, scratching the owlbear behind its feathered ears. “Both of you. The cutest. I don’t deserve you. Nobody does.”

Astarion stepped closer, his lips curling into a smirk as he crossed his arms.

“Well, well, what have we here?” he drawled, his voice dripping with amusement. “The drunkest I’ve ever seen you, cuddling animals and crying over their cuteness. Truly, a sight to behold.”

You looked up at him, your expression a mix of delight and indignation.

“It’s not my fault!” you exclaimed, sitting up—though the effort made you wobble. “Scratch… Scratch has been fetching me wine!”

Astarion raised a skeptical brow, his smirk widening. “Scratch has been fetching you wine? Darling, I taught you to lie better than that.”

You gasped, clutching Scratch protectively. “Are you calling me a liar? Scratch would never let me lie. He’s too good, too pure!”

The dog wagged his tail innocently, clearly pleased with the attention. He rolled his eyes but couldn’t help the smile tugging at his lips as he moved to sit beside you.

“Yes, yes, Scratch is the pinnacle of virtue. Now, move over before you collapse completely.” He pulled you against his side, his arm wrapping around your waist. You immediately snuggled into him, still hiccuping slightly as you continued to pet the animals.

Just as Astarion was starting to feel truly settled, Scratch suddenly trotted off.

“And where are you going, you furry little enabler?” he called after the dog. Moments later, Scratch returned, tail wagging proudly as he carried a bottle of blood in his jaws. Astarion’s mouth fell open slightly in surprise, and then he laughed, the sound rich and genuine. “Well, I’ll be damned. He really is a very good boy.”

He took the bottle from Scratch, patting the dog’s head affectionately.

“My apologies, my love. It seems you weren’t lying. Who would have thought Shadowheart’s greatest contribution to our journey all those months ago was teaching this beast to fetch drinks?”

You giggled, leaning up to press a sloppy kiss to his cheek. “Told you so. Scratch is a genius. The cutest genius in the whole wide world.”

"And what about me, am I not cute?" Astarion asked in mock offence as he brushed a rogue strand of hair out of your face.

"Not as cute as Scratch and Owlbear but you try -hey give me back my wine!" You whined as Astarion took your bottle from you, brows raised, suggesting you try again. You huffed and rested your head on his shoulder looking up at him with big wet doe eyes. "You are not as cute, because you are twice as beautiful."

"I don't know if that makes sense, but I'll take it." He said, giving you back your wine with a small smile. He would have taken it off you, you really were the drunkest he had ever seen but your so-called 'wine' was actually water, Scratch really was a genius.

Wyll:

The reunion party was in full swing, a mix of old friends, laughter, and the clinking of glasses raised high in celebration. The air buzzed with the joy of shared victories and the promise of futures finally free of hardship. You and Wyll had spent much of the evening together, arm in arm, swapping stories and indulging in the abundant wine. It was a rare, beautiful moment to simply be—no battles to fight, no worlds to save.

For Wyll, the sight of you laughing and glowing with life was a reward all its own. But as the hours ticked by and the wine loosened tongues and inhibitions alike, you had somehow slipped away.

It wasn’t unusual. You had a penchant for wandering when the drink took hold of you, curiosity leading you to wherever your heart fancied. Wyll, ever patient and knowing, only chuckled to himself when he realized you were gone. After excusing himself from a lively conversation with Halsin and Minsc, who were subtley trying to out-brag the other (nothing had changed there) he set out to find you, his long strides carrying him through the grove as he kept an ear out for your familiar voice.

It didn’t take long. He followed the soft sound of sniffling to a secluded patch of grass where the moonlight spilled down like a spotlight. There, nestled between Scratch and the owlbear—no longer a cub but still affectionately devoted—you sat, tears streaming down your flushed cheeks as you buried your face in the owlbear’s feathers.

“They’re just… so cute,” you murmured, your voice thick with drunken emotion. Scratch’s tail thumped happily against the ground, clearly basking in your attention, while the owlbear tilted its head in quiet curiosity.

Wyll stopped, the sight making him blink in surprise. His hand rose to cover the grin tugging at his lips.

“Oh, my love,” he said softly, his voice tinged with both amusement and affection. “What have you gotten yourself into now?”

Your head shot up at the sound of his voice, and the moment your eyes met his, a fresh wave of tears spilled over.

“Wyll!” you exclaimed, your voice breaking as though his very presence was a miracle. “You’re here! And you’re so… so cute!”

Wyll blinked, momentarily startled, before laughter rumbled low in his chest.

“I’m cute, am I?” he asked, kneeling beside you. His grin widened as he took in the wine bottle lying haphazardly nearby and the glassy, adoring look in your eyes.

“Yes!” you wailed, throwing your arms out dramatically. “Your smile is cute, and your horns are cute, and your eyes are cute, and your hair is cute!” You punctuated each word with a hiccupping sob, your hand waving wildly as if to emphasize your point.

Wyll’s brows lifted in amusement, though his gaze softened with love.

“I see the wine has been particularly generous with you tonight,” he teased, brushing a stray tear from your cheek. “I’m sorry for being so… unbearably adorable. Shall I tone it down?”

“No!” you exclaimed, clutching his hand as though the idea was unthinkable. “Don’t stop being cute! It’s the best thing about you—no, wait.” You gasped as though struck by a revelation. “Everything about you is the best thing!”

Wyll let out a bark of laughter, shaking his head. “You are truly something else,” he said, his voice warm as he reached out to steady you. “Even when drunk, you’re determined to flatter me into blushing.”

Your lip wobbled, and you suddenly looked utterly distraught.

“Even your boots are cute,” you whispered, as though it was the most profound truth you had ever spoken.

That was enough to undo Wyll completely. He laughed, full and unguarded, before leaning forward to press a kiss to your temple.

“Alright, alright,” he said gently. “I’ll take responsibility for being impossibly charming.”

You sniffled, your tears slowing as the exhaustion of the evening began to creep up on you. With a soft hiccup, you slumped forward, burying your face in his chest. Wyll’s arms instinctively wrapped around you, holding you close as he stroked your back.

“You’re a handful, you know that?” he murmured, though his tone held no irritation—only affection. “But I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

The owlbear gave a low croon and leaned in, its head nuzzling against Wyll’s shoulder as though to share in the moment. Scratch let out a soft bark of agreement, his tail thumping against the ground. Wyll chuckled, his voice rumbling in his chest.

“You’ve managed to rally quite the crowd,” he said softly, glancing down at your peaceful face. But when you didn’t respond, he realized you had fallen asleep, your breath even and steady against his chest.

“Oh, my heart,” he said, shaking his head with a fond smile. “What am I to do with you?”

Carefully, he adjusted his hold and scooped you into his arms. The owlbear and Scratch followed as he carried you back toward the firelight of the party. Wyll’s steps were steady, his gaze warm as he looked down at you. Even in your drunken, tearful mess, you were his mess.

And he wouldn’t trade you for the world.

Halsin:

The reunion party was nothing short of spectacular. Lanterns hung from the ancient trees, casting soft, golden light over the gathering. Music and laughter mingled with the sounds of the old faithful camp at night, a serene backdrop to the revelry. You had started the evening with Halsin, both of you basking in the joy of seeing friends and allies together again. It was a rare chance to relax, to celebrate the life you had built after the chaos.

Halsin was soon drawn into a conversation about the orphans you and he had taken in. A circle of the more compassionate companions had gathered around him, captivated as he spoke about the children’s growth, their joy, and the home you were creating. His deep voice carried over the crowd, filled with pride and hope. You stood beside him for a time, sipping wine and listening, but your attention was eventually caught by a familiar sight—Scratch wagging his tail and the owlbear, now fully grown, ambling nearby.

"Look at them," you murmured, already swaying slightly as the wine took hold. "Two perfect, fluffy creatures, and they need my attention."

With a mischievous smile, you slipped away, weaving your way through the crowd, wineglass in hand. By the time Halsin realized you were gone, you had already disappeared into a quieter part of the grove. He smiled to himself, fondly amused, and excused himself from the conversation.

“She’s probably plotting something,” he said with a chuckle, following the faint sound of your voice.

It didn’t take long to find you. Beneath a sprawling oak, you were sprawled on the grass, cuddling Scratch and the owlbear. You had an almost-empty bottle of wine in one hand, your other arm draped dramatically over the owlbear’s shoulders. Your cheeks were flushed, your hair a bit disheveled, and your voice carried through the night as you spoke with exaggerated fervor.

"Listen here, Scratch," you said, poking his nose gently with your finger. "And you, too," you added, pointing to the owlbear, who blinked at you with wide, curious eyes. "You’re coming home with me. No arguments. It’s decided. We’re a family now."

Scratch barked happily, his tail thumping against the ground. The owlbear hooted softly, tilting its head as if contemplating your declaration.

You nodded solemnly, taking another swig of wine.

"Halsin might say no, but don’t you worry." You leaned in close, your voice dropping into a conspiratorial whisper that was anything but quiet. "I have my ways of convincing him. Very persuasive ways." You wiggled your eyebrows in an exaggerated manner, giggling at your own implication.

Then, as if struck by the sheer emotional gravity of the moment, your voice wavered, and tears welled up in your eyes.

"But if that doesn’t work," you said, your words thick with feeling, "I’ll just cry! Like this!" You dramatically buried your face into Scratch’s fur, letting out a loud, theatrical sob.

From the shadows, Halsin watched, arms crossed, a bemused smile playing on his lips. Finally, he stepped forward, his voice warm and steady. “Tears, my heart, will not be necessary.”

You froze, your head snapping up to look at him with wide, tear-filled eyes.

"Halsin!" you exclaimed, scrambling to sit up and almost tipping over in the process. "When did you get here?"

"Not long ago," he replied, crouching down beside you. "Long enough to hear your… strategy."

You waved the bottle in his direction, sloshing a bit of wine onto the grass.

"It’s a good strategy," you insisted, pointing at him with exaggerated authority. "Very effective."

Halsin chuckled, his large hand brushing a strand of hair from your face.

"I’m sure it is," he said indulgently. "But I assure you, no convincing is necessary."

“What about the other thing?” you asked, your voice dropping into a clumsy attempt at sultriness that only made Halsin laugh more.

“When you’re sober,” he said, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

You turned back to Scratch and the owlbear, lowering your voice to a loud whisper. “See? I told you it would work. He may be Daddy Halsin, but we all know who the real daddy is.”

Halsin’s brows shot up, a deep laugh rumbling from his chest. “Do we now?” he asked, scooping you into his arms with practiced ease.

You clung to him, your head resting against his broad chest as you continued to mumble incoherently about your master plan.

"Fluffy family forever," you declared, nuzzling into his tunic.

Scratch barked again, wagging his tail enthusiastically, while the owlbear lumbered after you both. Halsin shook his head fondly, his smile softening as he looked down at you.

“You are a marvel,” he said, pressing a kiss to your temple.

As he carried you back toward the heart of the party, you sighed contentedly, your arms tightening around his neck.

“You’re the best, Halsin,” you murmured, your words slurring but full of affection. “The absolute best.”

“And you,” he replied, his voice low and full of warmth, “are an utter wonder.”

I hope you guys enjoyed this, I worked quite hard on it and it was quite a good distraction. Love you all - Seluney xox

If you want to support me in other ways | Help keep this moonmaiden caffeinated x

[darlinluxx]

𝐍𝐄𝐖 𝐘𝐄𝐀𝐑’𝐒 | 𝐊𝐀𝐍𝐆 𝐒𝐀𝐄 𝐁𝐘𝐄𝐎𝐊 ౨ৎ

pairing : saebyeok x fem!reader

fluff

warnings : mentions of alcohol

summary : you and your girlfriend celebrate new years

a/n : let’s ignore how this is days late 😭 i had this fic wrote and then tumblr didn’t save it so i had to rewrite it but i think this version is better

if you have any requests, feel free to message me <3

𝐓he biting Seoul wind whips around you, tugging at the scarf you’ve wrapped tightly around your neck. but you barely notice the chill. your heart is a warm ember in your chest, fueled by the bright neon lights of the city and the hand clasped securely in yours. it’s New Year’s Eve, and you’re walking hand in hand with Saebyeok, the woman whose quiet strength and unwavering gaze have completely captivated you.

as you navigate the bustling crowds, snippets of conversations and laughter float around you, but your focus is solely on Saebyeok. you feel the rough pad of her thumb rubbing circles on the back of your hand, a small, comforting gesture that speaks volumes. you glance at her profile, the soft glow of a nearby streetlamp catching the sharp angles of her cheekbones, the determined set of her jaw softening just a fraction as she looks down at you.

“cold?” she murmurs, her voice a low rumble that seems to vibrate through you.

“a little,” you admit with a soft smile, “but not with you here.”

she doesn’t respond verbally, but her fingers tighten around yours, and the corners of her mouth quirk upwards in a subtle, rare smile that always leaves you breathless.

you push through the crowds towards the river, the air becoming crisp and clean as you leave the more congested streets behind. the river stretches out before you, a dark mirror reflecting the dazzling fireworks that have already begun to paint the night sky with bursts of vibrant color.

you find a relatively secluded spot by the river, a little hidden alcove away from the main throng of people. Saebyeok pulls you closer, her body a comforting warmth against yours. she leans against a tree, and you nestle yourself beside her, grateful for the solidness of her presence.

the first fireworks explode overhead — a shower of gold and crimson light that illuminates her face, making her eyes gleam like polished obsidian. you watch her, almost mesmerized, as she calmly takes it all in. there’s a quiet intensity about her, a stoic grace that makes her seem somehow untouched by the chaos around you.

“they’re pretty,” you say, your voice barely a whisper, the words meant for her alone.

Saebyeok turns her head, her gaze locking with yours. there’s a depth in her eyes that always make you want to lose yourself, a hint of vulnerability that she rarely shows the world.

“yeah,” she replies, a soft smile tugging at her lips. “they are.”

silence falls between you, comfortable and easy. you stand side by side, watching the fireworks erupt in a breathtaking display of light and sound. the air is thick with the smell of gunpowder and alcohol, and the cheers of the crowd in the distance create a vibrant backdrop to this private moment you share.

you lean your head against her shoulder, feeling the solid muscle beneath her jacket. it’s a simple gesture, but it brings you a sense of peace and belonging that you never thought possible. you close your eyes for a moment, inhaling the familiar scent of her — a mix of leather and something indefinably her — and a profound sense of happiness that washes over you.

as the clock ticks closer to midnight, the fireworks reach a crescendo, a chaotic symphony of color and light. you feel Saebyeok shift, her fingers tracing lazy patterns on your hand. it’s a small, unconscious gesture, but it sends a jolt of warmth through your entire being.

“happy New Year,” she murmurs, her voice husky.

you open your eyes and turn to face her, the light from the final burst of fireworks reflecting in her dark eyes. a smile stretches across your face, a genuine smile full of happiness and gratitude.

“happy New Year, Sae,” you reply, your voice a little breathless.

and as the final firework fades away, leaving behind the soft glow of the city lights, Saebyeok leans down and presses a soft kiss to your lips. it’s a gentle kiss, full of tenderness and unspoken promises, a moment that seals the start of a new year, a new chapter, a new beginning with the woman you love. the cold fades away completely, replaced by the warmth of her touch, the promise of a future held in her gaze. the city may be celebrating, but in that quiet alcove beneath the fireworks, your heart is already overflowing. this year, you know, everything will be alright. as long as you’re near Saebyeok.

[st44rkeys]

Mr & Mrs Starkey

pairings: assassin rafe cameron x assassin fem reader

warnings: strong language, mention of organ/drug/human trafficking, explicit content

wc: 19,558

a/n: enjoyy<3

part 1, part 2, part 3

taglist: @highladyofhogwarts @marcibv @rafeskai @psychocitylights @niaizzy1623 @fuckeduppotato @drewwhor

“Bienvenidos a Cayo Santa María, Cuba. Disfrute su estancia" the guard at the cruise terminal greets with a warm smile. The sun is high casting a golden light over the vibrant port, and the air smells faintly of saltwater and tropical fruit. You return his smile with a polite nod as the crowd moves around you.

Rafe’s hand rests lightly on your shoulder, his posture relaxed as he gently guides you through the bustling scene. The rhythmic clink of jewelry and the murmur of travelers blend with the occasional burst of laughter from nearby tourists. He pulls you a little closer, his shoulder brushing against yours as you step together toward the pier, the sound of footsteps quickening with every step.

“Gracias" Rafe says 

 You roll your eyes “Is that the only Spanish word you know?” you ask amusement creeping into your voice.

Rafe scrunches his nose, a half smile tugging at the corner of his lips as he glances down at you. “Is it that obvious?”

You can’t help but snort, the sound cutting through the background noise of laughter and chatter. “Well yeah. You’ve said ‘gracias’ a thousand times and nothing else.”

You and Rafe stand side by side, both staring around in disbelief. The pictures hadn’t prepared you for how beautiful the place really was. The beach was close, just a short walk away, and it was packed with people kids running around, laughing, and shouting as the waves crashed on the shore. The scent of saltwater mixed with the faint smell of sunscreen and tropical fruit. On the other side, a green market stretched along the street, filled with colorful stalls selling fresh fruit, spices, and handmade goods makimg your mouth water.

The air was thick with the sounds of bargaining and chatter, the atmosphere warm and inviting. Down the road, at the end of it all, a neighborhood of stunning villas lined the coast. The white walls of the homes stood out against the lush green landscape, with large windows offering perfect views of the beach and ocean.

You felt a wave of longing, wishing this wasn’t a mission. It almost felt like you could just forget everything and enjoy the moment.

“It’s so pretty" you turn your head to take it all in. Rafe who’d been silently watching the scene, finally looks over at you his gaze softening just a little. “Yeah" 

Rafe unlocks his phone, scanning the address he was sent. His fingers move quickly over the screen as he pulls up Google Maps and studies the directions. He looks up his eyes moving across the neighborhood perfectly manicured lawns, palm trees swaying in the breeze and says “At least we’ll be living good.”

You follow his gaze, taking in the amazing scene yourself, and a small cheer rises silently in your chest. You grab the suitcases without a second thought and head up the path. Rafe of course, ends up carrying most of the bags, the weight not bothering him in the least.

As you walk ahead the sound of your steps on the pavement fills the air, but Rafe’s attention drifts back to you. His eyes flicker over the way your shorts hug your figure, something in him tightening at the sight. He knows he shouldn’t be looking he knows better but it’s hard not to.

Clearing his throat, he quickly forces his gaze to the path ahead his jaw clenching slightly as he tries to ignore the uneasy feeling creeping up on him.

As you enter the neighborhood the beauty of the houses becomes even more striking clean lines, lush landscaping. The people here seem to be constantly aware of their surroundings and as you walk through, most stop what they’re doing to watch you. The looks range from sharp, envious stares to bored glances, as if they’re trying to figure out who you are or why you’re here.

As you approach the front door you stop noticing a security guard coming toward you, eyes trained on you both.

You exchange a quick knowing look with Rafe. He sighs clearly irritated. “Of course these rich idiots have guards" he mutters under his breath, rolling his eyes.

As the guard gets closer, Rafe takes off his sunglasses, sliding them into his pocket with ease. His expression shifts, and he straightens up slightly adopting a more neutral respectful posture. “Hello"  

“You must be Mr. and Mrs. Starkey?”

You give a subtle nod flashing your most practiced smile. The guard mirrors the smile, his expression relaxing, before reaching into his pocket and pulling out a set of keys.

“Here are your keys" he says smoothly handing them over. “If you need anything during your stay we’re available 24/7”

Rafe glances at him, raising an eyebrow. “24/7 huh? That’s nice” he says, a dry tone in his voice. “You’re working hard.”

The guard chuckles lightly. “It’s my job sir” he replies his smile never fading.

As the keys dangle from your hand you unlock the door and step inside, the soft rolling of the suitcases following immediately behind you.

You smile despite yourself as you take in the space. It’s small but there’s a certain charm to it. The bedroom, bathroom, and kitchen are all that occupy the space but it’s more than enough. The walls made of polished wood lend a vintage feel to the room, and the soft scent of cedarwood fills the air.

Your eyes fall on the bed in the center of the room massive and inviting. The sight of it makes you pause. Scattered across the bed are delicate petals, forming the faint outline of initials yours and Rafe’s, well Jane and Drew.

Rafe snorts

You step further into the room, your eyes wandering over the surroundings. The balcony catches your attention the sliding door leading to it wide open. Stepping toward it you find two chairs with a small table between them. The view outside isn’t much, but it’s peaceful.

You glance back toward Rafe, who’s standing just inside the door his posture as rigid as ever. He hasn’t said much since you arrived, his eyes scanning the room with the same detachment he always wears.

“Not bad" you say, breaking the silence

His gaze flickers toward you, then quickly back to the room, his lips curling into a slight smirk. “It’ll do" he mutters 

With a single knowing glance exchanged between the two of you, the atmosphere shifts. There’s an unspoken agreement and in an instant your instincts take over. You start scanning the corners of the room for any hidden cameras, eyes narrowing as you quickly assess the space. It only takes a moment but you see no immediate signs of surveillance.

Rafe’s gaze sharpens and with a subtle nod he points toward the bathroom, then toward you. You don’t need any more cues. Without hesitation, you reach into your bag, pulling out the bug scanner. Your fingers move with practiced precision as you head for the bathroom.

You click the scanner into place, letting it sweep the room for any hidden devices. Every second counts, and you methodically check every corner of the small space, eyes scanning the tiles and mirrors for any anomalies.

Meanwhile in the other room Rafe works just as fast. He places the scanner on the bed, allowing it to sweep for signals. He closes the curtains with quick, the soft fabric falling into place and then moves on to check under the bed. Every drawer is opened, every nook inspected. 

As he opens the last one, pulling it out just far enough to spot a small, inconspicuous container. His eyes scan the contents and with a smirk he pulls out a box of condoms. The corner of his mouth twitches as he chuckles quietly, shutting the drawer with a soft click. “We won’t be needing that" 

As you step out of the bathroom, your eyes lock with Rafe’s. The briefest of nods passes between you

“Clear" 

“We should put the guns somewhere secure" you suggest voice low betraying no sign of urgency. Dropping to your knees you unzip one of the suitcases. Your fingers brush against the cool metal of the guns the weight of them familiar. You lift the bed with practiced ease, sliding the weapons beneath it making sure they’re hidden in the shadows. 

Rafe moves beside you his gaze flickering over every inch of the room before he turns to gather smoke bombs and other explosives. He moves quickly, he’s done this a hundred times before. The weapons are hidden carefully in a compartment at the back of the closet tucked just beneath a pile of clothing. 

With everything stashed away, you turn to the knives. Placing them inside a decorative vase on the table, you make sure to position them just right.

The room falls into a heavy silence as you take a step back assessing your work. You can hear Rafe moving around too putting the finishing touches on his side of things. Your pulse quickens slightly not from panic but from the subtle tension that always lingers in moments like this. You both know how easy it would be for someone to walk in and undo all of this. The whole operation would be huge fail

Not to mention, your heads would be gone too

Thirty minutes pass though it feels like an eternity. You slowly organize your clothes, neatly folding each item. There’s no trace left behind, no sign of anything out of place. Just a married couple, preparing for their vacation 

Rafe lets out a low whistle as he walks up to the window, pulling the curtain aside just enough to look out. His eyes scan the street, taking in the small, quiet houses around them.

Curious you step up next to him nudging him slightly so you can get a look too. The neighborhood is quiet almost too quiet, like the kind of place where everyone pretends their lives are perfect. Some houses are small some bigger, but neat with tidy gardens and perfectly trimmed hedges. It’s the kind of setting that’s supposed to feel peaceful but just ends up feeling fake.

Your eyes drift to the house across the street. Andrea and Diego are just stepping inside their movements sharp and tense. Even from here, you can tell they’re arguing. Andrea’s arms are crossed tightly while Diego’s pacing ahead of her, throwing his hands up.

“Trouble in paradise" you mumble under your breath and Rafe snorts quietly in response.

Then his focus shifts and yours follows, both of you zeroing in on the house or rather, the mansion at the end of the street. It stands out like it’s begging for attention towering over the smaller homes around it.

'House' doesn’t even feel like the right word. It’s massive, with palm trees lining the driveway and a huge pool glittering out front. The kind of place that looks like it belongs to a celebrity or some tech billionaire. Floor to ceiling windows stretch across the front showing just enough of the inside to make you wonder what ridiculous stuff might be hidden away in there.

“Guess we know where that pig has been spending his blood money" 

You can’t help but agree. The mansion is obnoxious in every way, from its size to the overly polished exterior. Everything about it screams excess like it was designed to flaunt power. But it doesn’t impress you. It just makes you think about the people who suffered to make it possible.

“The guards are gonna be a huge problem for us" you say, crossing your arms as you watch the street through the window.

Rafe lets out a sigh, his gaze lingering outside for a moment longer. “We’ll deal with them later" he says his voice calm but firm. Then his eyes meet yours. “First we just need to get that invite to the gala. And our new friends are gonna help us with that.”

You raise a brow at his confidence but don’t argue. He lets the curtain fall back into place, shutting out the view of the neighborhood as he turns toward the bed. For a moment he just stands there, his hands resting on his hips like he’s working through some silent thought.

Then a mischievous look flashes across his face. “Hold on" he moves toward the bed.

You watch as he grabs a handful of the rose petals someone had oh-so-romantically arranged earlier. Before you can ask what he’s doing he sits on the edge of the bed brushing the fake initials aside with an almost dismissive flick of his wrist.

“What are you-" you start but he cuts you off.

“Fixing this mess" he says simply. His hands work quickly, rearranging the petals into something new. Your eyes narrow as you step closer and then you realize what he’s doing.

It’s not the fake initials anymore. Now it’s your real ones, yours and his.

For a second, you’re too stunned to say anything. He looks up at you, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“There" he says leaning back a little to admire his work.

You cross your arms tilting your head as you stare at him waiting for an explanation. He doesn’t give you one. Instead he just shrugs that infuriatingly smug smile tugging at the corners of his lips like he knows exactly how to push your buttons.

Your eyes narrow. “What?” he says still grinning. “Don’t like a little romance?”

Rolling your eyes you grab your bag and without hesitation, toss it right onto the bed landing it square in the middle of his carefully arranged petals. The soft scattered mess feels oddly satisfying.

“Hey!” he calls out half offended half laughing. “I worked hard on that!”

You roll your eyes a habit you’ve developed far too quickly since being stuck with him and unzip your bag pulling out your laptop. Without a word you walk over to the desk and sit down flipping open the screen.

The familiar glow lights up your face as you quickly type in your password your fingers moving instinctively over the keys. Your focus sharpens on the task ahead even as you feel Rafe’s presence behind you.

It doesn’t take long before he joins you, casually dropping into the chair next to yours. He leans back stretching his legs out like he has all the time in the world. You glance at him briefly, catching his usual smirk

You ignore him, instead glancing at the scanner you’d placed discreetly by the door earlier. Its tiny green light blinks steadily a quiet reassurance that you’d know the second someone got too close. It’s a simple precaution, but necessary given the circumstances.

As you glance back at your screen, Rafe leans forward slightly his arm brushing yours. You stiffen just for a second, before focusing harder on the work in front of you.

“You know" he starts "we make a pretty good team. When you’re not ruining my hard work that is.”

You sigh, still typing, but can’t help firing back. “Good to know your definition of teamwork involves sitting there doing absolutely nothing.”

“Hey I’m the one who snagged his phone data" he defends nudging you with his elbow

Before you can fire back Rafe interrupts, nodding toward your laptop. “Click here" he says leaning closer and pointing at the screen.

You follow his direction, your fingers brushing the trackpad as you open the file. A list pops up almost immediately, lines of text neatly organized.

“It’s a list of his properties. Pope and Kelce sent this to me" you murmur scrolling through the entries. Your eyes skim over the names and locations. “Look at this a market, a meat processing plant… even a bunch of rental properties.”

Rafe peers over your shoulder, his brows furrowing slightly. “He could be hiding his stuff in one of the places"

You hum in agreement your mind already racing with possibilities. “We should dig deeper into this see which ones are actually worth checking out.”

“In the meantime" Rafe says, standing up and stretching with a slight grunt "we can go out, take a closer look around and grab something to eat. I’m starving.”

You glance at him your stomach agreeing more than your mind, and give a silent nod. You reach for your sunglasses and slide them on tucking your bag over your shoulder. As you move to walk past him your eyes meet his, an unspoken pause hanging in the air.

And that’s when it hits you.

You both are dressed exactly the same.

Black shorts, white pants. A black t-shirt, and a white crop top. Same sunglasses, perfectly matching.

You freeze for a moment, staring at him with disbelief. “You’ve got to be kidding me.” How did you not notice this before?

Rafe’s lips curl into a mischievous smirk as he leans casually against the wall arms crossed in an almost teasing posture. He looks you up and down his gaze lingering for just a beat longer than usual. “You’re looking good angel.”

It’s clear he’s been enjoying the matching outfits all along. After all he noticed right away, but what fun would it be to tell you?

You roll your eyes trying to mask the amusement creeping onto your face. “You couldn’t have told me sooner?”

Rafe shrugs nonchalantly clearly amused by your reaction. “Where’s the fun in that?”

You push open the door, stepping out into the quiet street with Rafe right behind you. The sound of the lock clicking into place echoes softly as he secures it. You start walking toward the gate your steps steady, Rafe falling into step behind you just close enough.

“Ahh, new neighbors?” a voice suddenly chimes from behind you cutting through the stillness of the air.

You turn to find a woman approaching with a large, almost too eager smile. She’s probably in her mid-30s, her steps quick and confident as she gets closer.

 “Ah hi.”

Rafe moves silently beside you, his posture relaxed, his shoulder brushing yours as he shifts his weight. You feel the subtle tension in the air as he silently observes the woman.

The woman stops directly in front of you, her bright green eyes gleaming with what seems like unfiltered curiosity. Her red hair, shiny and perfectly styled, frames her face in loose waves, and her outfit is impossibly expensive, pristine and too flawless to be casual.

“My name is Katherine, but you can call me Katie" she says with a bright laugh, grabbing your hand and shaking it firmly.

You offer her a confident smile, not missing a beat. “Oh nice to meet you, I’m Jane.” With a slight tilt of your head, you motion to Rafe. “And this is Drew" 

Katherine immediately takes Rafe’s hand, her grip tight, almost calculating. He meets her eyes with a level gaze, his handshake firm but controlled 

"Hello"

You glance at their clasped fingers for a second, then shift your focus back to Katherine with a knowing smile. You slide your hand onto Rafe’s bicep, your touch easy and natural. 

“My husband”

Katherine’s eyes widen for a fraction of a second, but she quickly recovers, her smile returning smoothly as she releases Rafe’s hand. “Welcome" she says, her tone almost too friendly. “I saw you earlier and thought I’d come over to say hi.”

Rafe's mind is already elsewhere could she leave already? he wonders silently. “Yeah we’re just here for a little vacation" he says his voice casual but with a hint of impatience.

Katherine nods, seemingly satisfied with the response. “Ah how long are you staying?”

“A week" you reply smoothly, but inside, your mind is ticking through the minutes. Every second she spends here is one you can’t get back. Her incessantly high-pitched voice is grating on your nerves, each word feeling like it’s triggering a warning signal in your brain.

You fight to keep your expression neutral, but your patience is wearing thin.

But Rafe being Rave, he can't wait. With a polite yet firm smile he steps forward, cutting the conversation short. “It was really nice meeting you but we have to go, we’re starving" he says, his tone friendly. He grabs your hand and starts to pull you away not even waiting for a response.

As you both move, you glance over your shoulder at Katherine, who looks momentarily taken aback. “Yeah I’ll see you two again…?” she says her voice trailing off in confusion.

You offer her a smile that’s more rehearsed than apologetic. “See you Katie"

If only you knew the kind of problems Katherine would cause later on. Had you realized it then you would’ve wasted no time getting rid of her.

You move through the crowded streets the hum of voices and the scent of street food filling the air. Rafe walks beside you. You feel the heat of the sun on your skin, the sweat starting to gather on your forehead as the midday heat presses in from all sides.

You swipe a hand across your forehead, trying to shake off the discomfort. You’re used to dealing with more dangerous things than the weather but still this heat makes everything feel heavier.

Rafe’s eyes dart from one vendor to the next, scanning the streets like he’s trying to read a map in a language he doesn’t understand. You’ve been walking for what feels like forever fifteen minutes maybe more and you still haven’t found any sign of the markets you’re supposed to be tracking down.

“Nothing"  His jaw tightens as he glances over at you, clearly feeling the same unease.

You glance around the sheer number of people making everything feel like one giant blur of movement. You’re getting nowhere.

The chatter of the crowd seems to get louder in your head every voice blending into a dull hum. You can’t shake the feeling that you’re wasting time, time you don’t have to spare.

You look at Rafe noticing the slight furrow in his brow. He’s still scanning, still working, but his frustration is palpable now. It’s hard to miss the way his shoulders are tense, his hand slightly brushing the handle of the gun hidden beneath his jacket.

“That bitch is good” he scoffs

But then you spot Diego leaving a store with another man. You gently tap Rafe’s arm, tilting your head towards them.

He follows your gaze, slowly lowering his sunglasses, his eyes narrowing as he takes in the scene. After a moment, his voice is low

“Diego” he mutters “kinda looks like Shoupe.”

You look at him. “Shoupe…?”

“Yeah" Rafe says, as though it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Don’t tell me you don’t see it?”

Slowly the two of you make your way closer stepping off the main street and into a narrow alley where a small butcher shop stands. It looks oddly pristine for this part of island, almost too perfect. The walls are a fresh, bright white, and the counters gleam with that polished shine only something expensive can have. The glass display is full of various cuts of meat, neatly arranged in perfect rows, almost artfully laid out. It’s the kind of shop that looks more like an upscale restaurant than a local butcher.

You reach for the door but just as you do, something catches your eye. A small “Closed” sign dangles from the handle.

Rafe lets out a frustrated chuckle shaking his head. “These fuckers.”

“Do you think they’re hiding drugs?”

Rafe glances around quickly, his eyes narrowing as he steps up to the door. He peers through the crack, trying to get a glimpse of the inside, but it’s no use. He steps back and gives a resigned shrug his voice quieter now. “Or something worse.”

“Can I help you two?” A gravelly voice cuts through the air making both you and Rafe turn around.

A tall, bulky man stands behind you now, not quite as tall as Rafe, but still imposing. He’s dressed head to toe in black, his eyes hard as he glares at both of you. Rafe notices the gun tucked into his waistband, the silhouette of it just visible beneath his shirt, and the earpiece dangling from his ear.

He doesn’t miss a beat his smile easy and casual as he steps forward. “We were just passing by, thought we’d grab some meat.”

You follow his lead, glancing at the gun as you speak trying to seem disinterested.

“It’s closed, as you can see.” The man’s voice is icy, his tone sharper than before.

Rafe nods, his expression unfazed, and gestures toward the sign with a shrug. “Yeah I saw that. But can I ask why? I mean it’s the middle of the day.”

The guard’s lips twitch just slightly, as if the question bothers him more than he lets on. You decide to press your luck, adding in your own comment with a smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes. “Yeah it’s strange. The meat looks so fresh too.”

The guard sneers, his eyes narrowing as he steps closer. “It’s closed and it’s none of your business” he snaps.

“Woah man, we were just asking.” Rafe’s tone shift dropping slightly as he raises his hands in mock surrender. He gestures toward you. “She’s pregnant and craving some lamb.”

You instinctively place a hand on your stomach, and the guard’s eyes flick down to it. His gaze lingers for a heartbeat longer than comfortable.

“Not my problem.” The guard’s voice is cold, clipped. “The restaurants are open. Go there and order food.”

Rafe’s hand twitches, a near subtle movement toward the gun tucked under his jacket. You catch it, a warning pulse of tension in the air. 

You act immediately, reaching for his hand to stop him. “Let’s just go baby" you say softly, keeping your voice calm. You give him a reassuring squeeze, guiding him away from the guard.

You can feel the weight of the man’s stare on your backs, but you keep your eyes straight ahead refusing to look behind. As you both walk away the faint click of his earpiece sounds behind you.

“Nosy tourists" he mutters under his breath, “nothing suspicious… yet.”

“That fucking asshole" Rafe mutters, his voice laced with irritation as he strides ahead of you. He stops and turns back, his eyes narrowing. “We have to get in there.”

“Calm down James Bond. We will" you reply, removing your sunglasses with a casual flick of your wrist.

Just as you’re about to take a step forward a body suddenly crashes into yours knocking you off balance and sending you straight into Rafe’s arms. You’re barely able to steady yourself as his hands grip your waist to keep you from falling.

“Lo siento señora" the stranger mumbles, his words thick with an accent, his hands still awkwardly placed on you as if apologizing for the collision.

Rafe’s grip tightens on you, and you feel the heat of his chest against your back. “Watch where you’re going, asshole" he snaps. 

You feel the moment shift your breath catching in your throat as your gaze involuntarily meets Rafe’s. You make the mistake of looking up, and suddenly, his eyes lock with yours. His face is inches from yours, his gaze intense and unwavering. His breath hitches just a fraction of a second, and you can almost hear the pounding of your heart.

For a moment, neither of you move, both of you suspended in that quiet space, the world around you forgotten. His eyes seem to reach deeper, reading you, searching you… and you feel something stir beneath your skin that you can’t quite explain.

His gaze traces the curve of your nose, then drifts down to your eyes watching the way they seem to sparkle in the sunlight, a brightness that makes him pause for a split second. Pretty, he thinks to himself though he doesn’t let it show.

“Lo siento mucho" the man apologizes again his voice softer now as he steps back.

You quickly pull yourself from Rafe’s arms, turning to face the stranger. “No te preocupes está bien" you reply smoothly offering him a reassuring smile. The man nods and grins, then turns to leave still apologizing under his breath.

Rafe watches you walk away, his eyes widening in realization. “Wait-wait, you knew Spanish the whole time? And you let me suffer trying to figure out what the staff were saying?”

You smirk walking past him with a casual air. Just as you pass a table with a vendor selling sweets, you slip your hand out and grab a lollipop, unwrapping and popping it into your mouth with a teasing look.

“I can’t say I didn’t enjoy seeing you suffer" you say with a sly smile, the candy crunching between your teeth.

Rafe chuckles softly, shaking his head as he reaches for more candy, slipping it into his pocket as he falls into step behind you.

You and Rafe wake early sunlight already brightening the room. After a quick breakfast and planning session, you both get dressed polished and expensive, as always and head out. The goal is clear: Bojan’s market. Thankfully you manage to leave the house without running into Katherine which already feels like a small victory.

As you approach the market, its polished exterior stands out against the surrounding buildings. The spotless windows and well-maintained signage scream wealth

You take a quick glance at the cashier through the glass door a boy who can’t be older than twenty five. He’s slouched behind the counter, headphones in, scrolling on his phone without a care in the world.

“It’s a boy" you mutter under your breath to Rafe.

“Yours to deal with" Rafe replies casually, giving you a pointed look.

You let out a small sigh before loosening your hair, letting it fall naturally around your shoulders. A quick glance down at your shirt, and you unbutton just enough to show a tasteful hint of cleavage.

When you look up, Rafe is staring an amused smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“What?” you ask defensively, smoothing out your shirt.

“Nothing" he says but there’s a teasing tone in his tone.

“Just focus on your part okay?”

“I always do” he says with a shrug, already scanning the market layout for potential weak points.

Rafe pulls out his phone, dialing Kelce. The line barely rings before Kelce’s voice comes through smug and overly chipper.

“Mr. Starkey always a pleasure to hear from you,” Kelce greets his tone practically dripping with sarcasm.

Rafe closes his eyes briefly, already regretting the call. “Don’t start Kelce. Did you loop the camera feed?”

There’s a pause the sound of rapid typing in the background before Kelce responds. “Yeah the video’s looping. You’re good to go. Store’s blind for the next twenty minutes.”

“Good.” he nods glancing toward the store as he ends the call. He tilts his head slightly in your direction. “We’re clear.”

Hanging up, he slides his phone back into his pocket and turns to you. “I’ll go in first. Give me thirty seconds, then follow.”

 “Got it.”

Rafe smirks faintly before stepping toward the door, slipping into character as if it’s second nature.

The cashier barely looks up as Rafe walks past him his attention still glued to his phone. With a roll of his eyes, Rafe makes his way toward the fridges, casually humming to himself.

Then he hears the door open behind him.

You step inside your heels clicking on the smooth floor, the sound sharp against the otherwise quiet market. You don’t look at the cashier, but you can feel his eyes on you. It’s almost too easy.

As you make your way through the aisles you glance back over your shoulder. The moment you catch his gaze his face flushes red. You smile, letting him stew in the moment. This is going exactly as planned.

You pick up a couple of chocolates from a shelf and make your way to the counter. The moment you step up, the boy stands up so fast his chair nearly topples over.

“Hi" you say sweetly, keeping your tone light and friendly your smile sharp. His eyes immediately dart down to your cleavage before snapping back up to your face. You notice the way his throat works as he gulps.

“I’m having a hard time deciding. Maybe you could be a good boy and tell me which one is better?” You give him a soft smile, watching as his eyes flicker between you and the chocolates.

From the earpiece in your ear, you hear Rafe’s amused chuckle. “Don’t let him wet his pants" he teases.

You smile, barely holding back a laugh.

As Rafe watches the guy’s attention stay fixed on you, he moves swiftly toward the staff room. Quietly, he tests the door handle. Locked.

A curse slips from his lips as he pulls out the pin lock from his pocket. His fingers work quickly, the lock clicking open within seconds.

He glances over his shoulder at you, still engaged in conversation with the boy his smile wide and distracted.

With a quiet push Rafe slips into the staff room. The moment the door swings open, a sharp unpleasant smell hits him. He wrinkles his nose but pushes forward, his eyes scanning the room. The space is cramped, filled with boxes of various sizes, all stacked haphazardly on shelves and the floor. 

Rafe pulls out his phone, snapping quick photos of the scene. His gaze drifts over the cluttered shelves as he moves toward the closest box. He pulls out his knife, expertly slicing the tape on the top and peering inside. Chips. Just chips.

A frown crosses his face as he cuts open the other end. Same thing. Chips.

Rafe checks another box, the third one, but it’s the same. Frustration edges his thoughts. Just when he’s about to move on, something catches his attention. A package of chips, but the label is odd half of it is covered with a red square.

Curiosity piqued he opens the box and pulls one of the bags out. As he holds it, a small chuckle escapes him. There’s no crunch, no weight of chips. He rips the bag open, it is packed with powder-cocaine, LSD, and a few other drugs.

“Of course" Rafe mutters under his breath. He takes a handful of the chips, concealing them in his jacket and carefully tapes the bag back shut. Moving to the next box which is slightly bigger

he opens it to find a different kind of surprise. This one is filled with guns, neatly stacked their cold steel gleaming in the dim light.

He scoffs muttering another curse. He moves quickly to the set of fridges at the back. As he opens one the door creaks loudly the noise echoing through the small storage room.

The boy’s head jerks toward the staff room as he hears the sound. “Uh did you hear that?” he asks his voice tinged with suspicion.

You smile sweetly running your fingers through your hair, leaning slightly toward him. “Hear what?”

He glances back at you, looking flustered. “Sorry just wait here. I need to check something-"

You cut him off with a playful tilt of your head, quickly sliding your hand over his. “But I thought you’d be more interested in my number"

your fingers barely grazing his skin, making him freeze, caught off guard.

“Y-your number?” 

“Good job angel. Keep him occupied" Rafe murmurs. He moves toward the fridge, his fingers brushing against the bottles. Three of them. All covered. He picks one up, its label unreadable, then pops it open. The smell hits him instantly, and he recoils, nearly gagging. This definitely wasn’t cherry.

With a grimace he slams the fridge door shut, his eyes scanning the room as he works. He places trackers in the boxes, carefully hiding them among the stacks of goods, ensuring they won’t be noticed.

Once done, he exits the back room his eyes flicking toward the counter where you’re still talking to the boy. He mutters under his breath “I’m done.”

You, now fully in character flash him a quick smile. “Oh I have to go now I’m late for something.” You grab the chocolates and wave your hand dismissively at the boy your lips curling into a playful grin.

“But you didn’t give me your num-”

You cut him off with a nonchalant shrug not even turning around. “Yeah call me.” Your voice carries over your shoulder as you start walking away.

He watches, dumbfounded muttering to himself “And you didn’t pay…”

As you stride forward Rafe effortlessly falls into step beside you.

“Did you find anything?” you ask keeping your tone casual

He nods his jaw tight, his expression darkening. “Yeah something unexpected. But let’s head home first.”

The moment you step through the door though, your eyes flicker to the corner. And there she is. Katie coming closer

 Without a second thought you close the door swiftly blocking her out.

You don’t have the time or energy for her nonsense right now.

Rafe flings the chips onto the table, one bag already open. As they scatter, you watch in silence as the contents fall out. Little packets of white powder mixed with the debris of the chips. Right next to them, several bottles of juice tumble onto the table. Your eyes flicker back and forth between the items

You pick up one of the drug packets and inspect it carefully “He isn’t as sly as he thinks" you mutter your fingers brushing over the contents.

Rafe still standing, lets out a low huff before grabbing one of the juice bottles from the pile tosses it in your direction. “Open this" 

You glance at him slightly confused before looking back down at the bottle. You open it with a quick twist, and as you bring it to your nose to sniff a wave of foul stench assaults your senses. The liquid smells rotten, sharp and sour, making your stomach turn. You quickly pull it away from your face the smell still lingering in your nostrils.

"What the fuck"

You hold it up in front of you, staring at the thick dark liquid swirling inside. “Is this… fucking blood?” you ask your voice barely above a whisper as you try to make sense of it. The red liquid inside is too familiar, like the blood you’ve seen spilled during your missions.

"Call Wes and Shoupe"

“Blood you say?” Wes repeats his voice tinged with disbelief as his face and Shoupe’s appear on your laptop screen.

Rafe nods his expression grim. “Yeah guns, drugs, I planted trackers so you can track the shipment. But there’s also the blood.”

He holds up the glass, the dark red liquid sloshing ominously inside. Wes and Shoupe exchange a look clearly unsettled.

“We’re not sure if it’s animal or human but…” You pause. Your fingers tap lightly against the edge of the desk, the uncertainty hanging in the air. 

“You need to get into that butcher shop tonight,” Shoupe says, his voice firm, as he leans in closer to the screen. “We need confirmation on whether it’s human or animal blood. Both have different implications, but we need to know for sure.”

Rafe leans back in his chair, his expression hardening. “Do you think the blood’s tied to some ritualistic bullshit, or is it being mixed with drugs?” He drags out the words, his tone hinting at the frustration building inside him.

Wes removes his glasses, rubbing the bridge of his nose as he sighs. “Honestly it could be for any number of things. Drugs, organ trafficking, ritualistic cults, black market dealings, even twisted experiments. The possibilities are endless.” His eyes narrow slightly as he glances at the image on the screen. “And all of them are bad news.”

“Get into the butcher shop and find everything" Shoupe instructs his voice sharp and direct. “Take pictures, plant a small camera whatever you can.”

Wes’s voice follows equally urgent. “We didn’t find much on Diego Gomez’s phone but keep an eye on him. He’s been seen with Bojan practically everywhere.”

You and Rafe both nod in agreement, but as the call ends, you find yourself staring at your own reflection in the dark screen of the laptop. 

The laptop screen flickers before a photo of JJ’s ridiculous grinning face fills the frame, making you groan audibly. Rafe pinches the bridge of his nose.

“Do we have to answer this again?” he mutters.

You sigh. “Im gonna regret this.”

“HI LOVE BIRDS!” JJ yells his voice way too loud, as Topper shoves him aside to get in the frame.

“Hi babies!” Topper chimes in waving enthusiastically.

“Move I wanna see—”

“Why is Rafe’s big ass head taking up the whole screen?

“Guys stop" 

“I’m hanging up-" Rafe starts reaching for the laptop.

“Wait wait just ignore them" Pope cuts him off, stepping into view as he waves the others out of the frame. “We called for a reason. Something’s come up.”

Rafe leans back, crossing his arms, his scowl deepening. “This better be good.”

"I just sent this to Shoupe and Wes" Pope clears his throat and adjusts the mic. “While I was digging into Bojan's finances, I found a few connections I wasn’t expecting. He’s been funding a… specialized facility just outside the city. It’s not publicized, but it’s labeled as dealing with ‘biological preservation.’”

You furrow your brows. “What does that even mean?”

“That’s the thing. It’s vague. No published research, no university partnerships, nothing you’d usually associate with a legitimate facility. And the shipments they’re processing? They’re marked as ‘biological materials.’ High-value. Temperature-controlled. Fragile. Weirdly secretive.”

Rafe’s jaw tightens. “So what, you think it’s some underground science experiment?”

Pope hesitates before responding, his tone more serious. “I don’t know yet. But there’s something shady about the setup. The permits for the shipments are incomplete, and there are inconsistencies in the manifests like they’re deliberately hiding what’s being moved.”

“What’s actually in the shipments?” you ask leaning forward slightly.

“I don’t have solid proof yet" Pope admits, glancing off-screen as if checking his notes. “But from what I’ve pieced together they’re moving something valuable enough to require extreme secrecy and heavy security.”

Rafe narrows his eyes at the screen. “And Diego’s involved?”

“Definitely" Pope confirms. “His phone’s been tracked near the facility multiple times. He’s clearly tied to whatever operation Bojan’s running there. Look I’m still piecing it together, but all the roads keep leading back to this ‘preservation facility."

“Got it" you say finally, your voice steadier than you feel.

“Just… be careful" Pope adds. 

 Sarah’s face suddenly fills the frame. “HEY YOU GUYS!” she screams practically bouncing with excitement when she spots you both.

You can’t help but smile at her energy. “Hi Sarah" you say warmly.

Behind her, John B appears his hand resting casually on her waist. Rafe’s eyes narrow immediately, his head tilting slightly as if to get a better look.

“Wait a damn second- why is he touching you like that?” Rafe blurts his tone sharp.

Sarah freezes, her eyes going wide as she glances nervously at John B. Before anyone can respond JJ’s voice booms from somewhere off screen loud and obnoxious "BECAUSE THEY’RE FUCKING!”

And just like that the call cuts out, leaving you staring at the blank, black reflection of the laptop screen.

"I'm going to kill that boy" Rafe growls, 

You arch an eyebrow, crossing your arms.

"Pretty sure you've done enough damage already" 

You tighten the small bag around your wrist, double-checking everything.

Knife.

Pills.

Injections.

Camera.

Everything’s in place. You pull your ponytail tighter, the strands pulling against your scalp as you turn toward Rafe. He’s focused, loading the guns with a calm precision. You extend your hand and without a word he hands you a weapon.

You glance down at the gun, then back at him, raising a brow. “Why do I get the woman’s gun?”

Rafe looks at you, a mix of confusion and irritation in his eyes. “Just take it" he mutters, clearly not in the mood for a back and forth.

You shake your head smirking as you hand the gun back to him. Swiftly you reach for his, tucking it behind you in one fluid motion. You straighten up and look him dead in the eyes

“I’m ready.”

Rafe shakes his head muttering under his breath as he tosses your gun into the closet with a soft clink then grabs another one from the rack.

It’s midnight, dead quiet. Not a single light flickers in any of the houses around you. The streets are empty, not even a car passing by. Just the stillness of the night.

You and Rafe slip out of the house, moving like slowly, careful not to make a sound. Every step is calculated every movement deliberate. No one can know you’re here.

The shop is close now, just a few blocks away. You pause, holding up your hand to signal Rafe to stop. You’re waiting on Kelce’s confirmation that the cameras are down. The seconds stretch, every movement feeling like it’s happening in slow motion. Then, a soft beep in your earpiece.

“Cameras are off. You’re clear" Kelce’s voice crackles through.

You notice a guard standing in front of the door his attention fixed elsewhere. He's alone. You turn to Rafe giving him a quick subtle hand signal- left for him, right for you. Without a word, he nodded and the two of you silently split up.

You pull out the injection from your bag, feeling the weight of it in your hand as you moved toward the guard, making sure your footsteps were quiet on the ground. You stay low, the shadows providing some cover as you closed the distance.

Once you were close enough you glance at Rafe who had positioned himself just out of sight. His eyes meet yours and with a brief silent nod, you both move in unison. You approache the guard from behind, your steps calculated, and with a quick motion, you press the needle into his neck. The sharp jab went unnoticed, and in moments, the sedative took effect.

You cover his mouth to stifle any noise as his body went slack and with Rafe’s help, you lowered him to the ground, ensuring he didn’t make a sound. You'll place him inside later 

Rafe let out a quiet sigh, scanning the area around him. His eyes settled on a small device on top of the door. With a quick practiced motion, he placed another device on top securing it in place.

A few tense seconds passed the air thick with anticipation. Then a faint static buzz came through the earpiece followed by Pope’s voice. “Alarm’s off" he says

You didn’t need to hear anything more. Without a word, you reach into your pocket and pulled out the pin locket. You didn’t hesitate your fingers working quickly and efficiently as you set to unlocking the door, the soft clicks of the mechanism the only sound as you focused, determined to get inside.

You step into the shop, the door creaking softly.  as you ease it open. Everything seems fine nothing suspicious. The dim light of the hallway does little to reveal any immediate threat.

You then go grab the guard, and put him in the chair behind the counter. This will do. Rafe glances at you, his eyes flicking to the door on the left. Without a word, he motions toward it. “I’ll check this one. You take the other.”

You nod moving toward the opposite door. As soon as you open it, a cold draft hits you, and the darkness swallows you whole. You fumble for your flashlight, clicking it on, but the second the beam cuts through the shadows, the stench hits you a disgusting one, choking odor that makes your stomach turn.

You wince and pull your shirt up over your nose, but it’s no use. The smell is overpowering. The light moves forward, pigs, lambs, cows all hanging from the ceiling, their bodies skinned clean, heads severed. 

Your stomach churns violently, but you force yourself to look away from the grotesque sight. The air is thick with the metallic scent of blood, and it clings to your skin. The smell is unbearable, stinging your nose, and you fight to keep from gagging. 

Rafe’s voice crackles through your earpiece. “Can’t find shit just files.”

You hum in response. “Keep looking for what Pope told us. Maybe you’ll find their payment records.”

“On it" Rafe replies, the determination in his voice unmistakable despite the irritation.

You reach for your gun gripping it tightly. Slowly, you move to your left, scanning the dim room. The quiet is almost suffocating, the only sound being the soft shuffle of your footsteps on the floor. You pause, then turn your head to the right the beam of the flashlight cutting through the darkness.

As your light glides across the room, you catch sight of a row of knives, their blades gleaming coldly in the faint light. Then, at the far end of the room something catches your attention. A wall, almost blending into the surroundings, but covered with a heavy set of plastic curtains. A soft, eerie blue light spills from behind it flickering like a warning.

You step closer, the foul stench growing stronger with every step. Holding your gun in one hand, you pull aside the plastic curtains, wincing as the harsh blue light floods your vision, making your eyes ache.

Inside the space, the scene unfolds

knives, industrial fridges, and the bottles Rafe had found earlier, all arranged methodically. The cold inside hits you like a wall, much colder than the room you’d just left, making your body shiver involuntarily.

“Win, I found some payments" Rafe’s voice comes through, but you barely hear him. Your focus is consumed by what’s in front of you.

You set your gun down on the table, fingers itching as you approach one of the fridges. You tug at the door, but it’s sealed tight. Locked. Motherfucker.

You pull a pin lock from your pocket, with swift, practiced movements you set to work. Ten seconds. The lock clicks open. You don’t hesitate yanking the door open, but the moment it swings wide, the smell hits you like a punch to the gut. The contents inside make your stomach churn violently, and you almost throw up right there.

It’s worse than you imagined.

But that’s nothing compared to what you see inside.

You almost scream.

You’ve killed more than you care to count, as an assassin, you’ve seen the darkest sides of humanity but this? This is a whole different level. Your breath catches in your throat as you stare at the stacked lungs, at least fifty of them neatly arranged, each one a grim reminder of lives stolen. Your knees weaken beneath you and for a moment the room spins.

You force yourself to look closer, your gaze falling to the label on top of the lungs: 48 hours.

“Angel?”

You shake yourself out of the haze, turning toward the other fridges. You unlock the other one. Livers. The next? Kidneys. They’re all here lined up, cold, and lifeless.

“Angel what happened?” Rafe asks again his voice urgent now and you can hear the sound of something shifting in the background.

“Rafe… they’re fucking organ trafficking" you say the words bitter in your mouth your voice shaky as you fight the bile rising in your throat. “Their fridges are stacked with kidneys, livers… everything.”

Rafe doesn’t waste a second. He grabs the files and bolts out of the office, moving quickly toward the next room. As he enters, he instinctively covers his nose, the stench from the fridges unbearable.

“Where are you?” 

You answer, and without hesitation, he follows the faint blue glow of the light, his steps quickening as he approaches the source.

When he finally steps inside, he freezes. His eyes dart to the open fridges the sight before him enough to stun him into silence. The shock is palpable as he takes in the rows of organs the reality of what you’d uncovered hitting him all at once.

“This man is sick" you mutter disgust clear in your voice as you pull out your phone, snapping photos of the gruesome scene. The weight of the horror still presses on your chest, but you force yourself to focus, capturing every detail.

Rafe swallows hard doing his best to block out the stench that clings to the air, his expression grim as he works. He places a tracker and a bug just outside one of the fridges, hiding them with precision, making sure they’re undetectable.

Once you’ve taken the last of the photos, you step back closing the fridge doors and locking them again.

“Are you okay?” Rafe asks his voice softer now. You glance at him, the dim blue light casting sharp shadows across his face. The concern in his eyes cuts through the tension, but you hold yourself together.

You nod, your voice steady, though the disgust lingers in your gut. “Yeah… just disgusted.”

“Shit" Rafe mutters, his voice barely above a whisper as his eyes zero in on the bulky man from yesterday striding toward the store.

You glance over and immediately stiffen, a wave of annoyance and adrenaline crashing through you. “Why the hell is he here?” you bite out

Rafe’s response is immediate. He reaches for his gun the metallic click echoing softly in the tense silence. “I’ll disconnect the device. You cover our tracks, we’re out through the office window.”

There’s no room for argument. Both of you move like a well-oiled machine. Rafe's hands are steady as he works on dismantling the device. Meanwhile you scour the room grabbing a crumpled newspaper from a drawer. It’s a weak cover, but it’ll do. You slip it into the sleeping guard’s hands, carefully arranging it to look like he’s been dozing off during his shift.

“Done" Rafe murmurs, straightening as he pockets the device.

Without a word, he turns and grips your shoulders his touch firm but steering you towards the office.

You shrug him off with a glare. “I know where the fucking office is.”

“Then stop wasting time" he shoots back his voice clipped. His focus is razor sharp, but you don’t miss the flicker of amusement in his eyes. Even now he can’t resist pushing your buttons.

“Let’s wait until he shuts off the alarm" Rafe whispers in your ear his breath warm and deliberate against your skin. You nod silently, keeping your eyes trained on the man approaching the store.

The bulky figure slows as he reaches the storefront, his expression twisting into disdain when he spots the guard slumped over fast asleep.

With an irritated scoff the man punches in the code on the keypad, the faint beep of the alarm deactivating breaking the tense silence. The door creaks open, and he strides inside his irritation radiating like a stormcloud.

“What the fuck is your problem?” he barks, kicking the chair out from under the groggy guard. The sudden jolt sends the man jerking awake disoriented and blinking in confusion.

“Wha- where am I?” the guard mumbles his voice thick with sleep.

“Where are you? This is the second time I’ve caught you sleeping on the job. Are you trying to get yourself killed or are you just that useless?”

“Now" Rafe whispers, his hand gripping the window handle.

You grab his wrist before he can move, your eyes snapping toward the door as a shadow shifts just outside. Without a word, you yank him behind a nearby closet, pressing yourself against the wall as the space barely fits the two of you.

Rafe raises an eyebrow, clearly about to make some snide remark, but you silence him with a finger pressed firmly to his lips. His brow furrows slightly, then lifts in quiet amusement, his smirk teasing at the corners of his mouth.

The door creaks open. The man steps inside scanning the room with sharp eyes. His heavy boots echo softly against the floor. Your heart pounds in your ears as you hold your breath. Rafe’s arm slipping around your waist, tugging you closer.

The silence is heavy, every sound threatening to give you away. Finally the man seems satisfied and steps back out, the door clicking shut behind him.

You release the breath you didn’t realize you were holding and try to step away but Rafe doesn’t let you go. His arm remains firmly around your waist, keeping you pressed against him.

“Rafe" you whisper glaring up at him.

He tilts his head his smirk infuriatingly smug. “Admit it. You liked that a little too much.”

Your jaw tightens heat rising to your cheeks. “Let go of me" you hiss trying to push at his chest but he doesn’t budge.

“Not until you admit it" he says, leaning closer, his dark eyes glinting with mischief.

“Rafe" you growl under your breath, but his smirk only widens "We have to leave"

“You’re not denying it" 

“Because it’s ridiculous" you snap, finally managing to shove him off. He releases you with a quiet chuckle 

As you straighten and move toward the window, his voice follows you, soft but maddeningly smug. “For the record" he drawls "I wouldn’t mind hiding with you like that, again"

You whip around to glare at him, but he’s already moving toward the window, acting as if nothing had happened leaving you silently fuming, and a little flustered.

Rafe climbs out first landing smoothly before turning back to hold the window open. His hand extends toward you palm up, a confident smirk playing on his lips.

You narrow your eyes your glare sharp enough to cut. Ignoring his outstretched hand entirely you swing yourself through the window, landing gracefully beside him without so much as glancing his way.

Rafe looks at you then down at his outstretched hand his expression shifting to one of mild amusement. He scratches the back of his head, a slow chuckle escaping his lips.

“Okay"

You walked ahead of Rafe, as always, his steady footsteps following you. The silence between you two was oddly comforting, and for a brief moment you actually found yourself enjoying it.

That is, until your eyes landed on your damn redheaded neighbor.

You muttered under your breath "Deal with your fan" as you pushed open the gate and started toward the door your steps quickening with annoyance.

Rafe let out a long exasperated sigh, his eyes squeezing shut as he caught sight of Kathleen. She gasped dramatically when she saw you pass by without so much as a glance, but her face instantly lit up the moment her gaze shifted to Rafe.

“Drew hi!” she called out her voice high pitched and cheerful.

Rafe’s mind immediately raced as he watched her, his thoughts a mix of confusion and disbelief. It’s 1 AM, for god’s sake what is she doing wandering around at this hour?

“Hey Kathleen" Rafe says with a tired grin, not even bothering to hide his annoyance.

“Katherine"

“Right Katherine" Rafe mutters, rolling his eyes. “Nice catching up with you-"

Before he can finish, her eyes widen, and she interrupts. “So what were you two doing? Just walking around at this hour?”

Rafe halts mid-step turning slowly to look at her an eyebrow quirked. “I could ask you the same thing" 

She waves her hand dismissively, laughing lightly. “Oh I was just at my friend’s place, borrowing a springform pan. I’m making a cheesecake lemon cheesecake to be exact.”

She keeps going hardly pausing for breath. “Andrea invited us over for dinner tomorrow thought I’d bring something sweet. Mr. Banovic will be there too, don’t know if you’ve met him.”

Rafe who was about to open the gate, stops. He turns to her with a raised eyebrow. “Mr. Banovic huh? Yeah I know him.”

Katherine doesn’t seem to notice his sudden shift rambling on. “Yeah so she invited us, half of the neighborhood actually. Do you like cheesecake, Drew?”

Rafe smiles. “I actually love it.”

Your eyes narrow as you watch Rafe smile at her- smile. That warm, effortless, pretty smile. It makes your stomach twist but you don’t want to admit it. You’re regretting stepping inside now.

“The conversation can’t be that interesting" you mutter to yourself trying to push down the discomfort gnawing at you. “Whatever.”

As much we you want to shut the curtain and block it all out. But you can’t look away. Not when she places her hand on his shoulder so casually, so familiar. And when he doesn’t immediately move it your chest tightens.

You scoff, trying to mask the feeling creeping up on you. “I mean she’s literally flirting with a married man. What’s wrong with her?”

It’s not jealousy. You refuse to admit that. You’re just… uncomfortable with how she’s trying to wedge herself between a marriage.

A fake marriage. But she doesn’t know that.

The moment Rafe turns, you quickly slam the curtain shut hoping he didn’t catch you staring. But you know him too well. Nothing gets past him.

Without a second thought, you throw yourself onto the bed yanking the blanket over you. You don’t want to deal with him right now. 

Rafe opens the door a small smirk tugging at his lips. For once that damn redhead proved to be useful.

His gaze shifts to you lying on the bed. You’re already in your cute silk blue pajamas, your back turned to him looking peaceful beneath the blanket. A soft smile curves his lips as he watches you.

He’d seen you just thirty seconds ago at the window.

He quietly removes his gun tucking it away, and then removes his t-shirt, slipping into a pair of shorts. Rafe moves to the bed, the mattress sinking slightly under his weight as he settles beside you.

The room is draped in darkness, the only light coming from the faint glow of the kitchen window. It’s not much, but it’s enough for him to make out the silhouette of your body, the soft rise and fall of your breath beneath the blanket.

A minute passes. Then another. The silence stretches between you both, heavy and unanswered. Why aren’t you asking him about what she said? If you think he’s going to be the one to break the silence, you’re dead wrong-

“She invited us to Andrea’s dinner. Bojan’s going to be there" Finally Rafe lets out a soft sigh, staring up at the ceiling.

You don’t respond.

He blinks, about to repeat himself, when he feels you turn over to face him.

“Why would she invite us to someone else’s dinner?” you ask your voice thick with confusion.

Rafe forces himself to look away, a smile threatening at the corner of his lips. Don’t look at her… don’t look at her.

"We at least got the invite. Who cares if she’s a little weird?” His gaze flicks to you, the soft light from the window casting a glow on one side of your face.

Your eyes meet his, and for a moment, everything else fades. “No like in general, she’s weird" you say, the words coming out almost reluctantly. “She’s passive aggressive with me…”

"Really?

You raise an eyebrow, meeting his gaze with a quiet intensity. “And she’s obsessed with you and she definitely doesn’t like me. She called my outfit scandalous earlier today.”

He sighs unable to hide the slight grin that tugs at the corners of his mouth now. “She has a funny way of showing it.”

You pout, shifting to lie on your back, staring up at the ceiling. “It wasn’t scandalous. I looked pretty today.”

 “You definitely did.” 

A small smile tugs at your lips, and you murmur, “Thank you.”

“I thought you fell asleep" Rafe says, settling back and slipping his arms under his head with a relaxed sigh.

You roll your eyes, your voice soft. “…I was dozing off until you showed up.”

He chuckles liar. “You were at the window.”

Caught. You try to shrug it off, a half laugh escaping you. “Well for like two seconds then I left. She’s crazy. I wanted to see what she's doing"

He pushes himself up, propping himself up on his elbow as he turns to look at you with a teasing glint in his eyes. “You sure you’re not jealous?”

You let out a dry chuckle, rolling your eyes. “Why would I be jealous?”

He tilts his head, as if pondering. “Hmm… it’s a long list but the first reason would be because she likes me.”

Your brows furrow, a hint of frustration creeping in. “What are you hinting at?”

Mimicking his pose, you lean on your elbow, facing him. He grins the kind of grin that makes your blood boil in all the wrong ways. “You’re smart. Figure it out yourself.”

Oh how you wanted to punch his pretty face.

“I don’t think you realize just how angry you make me" 

Rafe’s grin only widens, his eyes gleaming with amusement. “Aw I have that effect on you?”

“You don’t even deserve a good night" you mutter, turning your back to him as you settle into the bed. “I hope you die in your sleep.”

Rafe bursts out laughing, the sound annoyingly warm and amused. “Sweet dreams to you too, angel"

You press your lips together, smoothing out the dark red lipstick you’d just applied. Perfect. The rich color added a striking touch to your look, bold without overdoing it.

It was nearing 6 p.m., which meant it was almost time to head to Andrea’s house. You were just waiting on Rafe, who had gone to pick up a bottle of wine.

You had opted for a simple yet elegant black dress, a sleek sleeveless design, the neckline cut but connected with a trio of bows along, hugging your figure in all the right places. Your hair was pulled back into a slick ponytail. To complete the look, you chose silver bracelets that caught the light just enough and small, understated earrings that added a hint of luxury without being too much.

You take the pie out of the refrigerator, setting it on the counter. You like to pretend you made it yourself, even though the bakery box gave it away.

Rafe walks in just as you’re wrapping the pie. He’s dressed simply in black pants and a tight black t-shirt.

Yeah, tight.

“What took you so long?” you ask trying to ignore how well the shirt fits him.

“Had to pick out an expensive wine-" He pauses mid sentence when his eyes land on you, his gaze lingering just a second too long before he recovers. “-and the line was insane.”

You hum in acknowledgment focusing on the pie, but the heat of his stare doesn’t go unnoticed.

“Uh" he stammers, rubbing the back of his neck, suddenly looking out of place. “You look pretty.”

Your cheeks warm, and you avoid meeting his eyes. “Thank you. You look good too.”

He grins, that infuriatingly cocky grin. “Yeah, well that’s not hard.”

You roll your eyes fighting the urge to smile. Of course he had to ruin the moment.

Rafe glances at the pie in your hands raising an eyebrow. “When did you make that?”

“This morning" you say smoothly, then shrug with a small grin. “Well the bakery made it but we’re leaving that part out.”

He chuckles, shaking his head as he opens the door for you. “You’re unbelievable.”

With a smirk you step outside the cool evening air brushing against your skin as Rafe follows his hand on your back.

“Tonight’s the night" Rafe murmurs, his gaze fixed on the big house as you both draw closer.

You sigh frustration lacing your voice. “We have to dickride him until we get the invite" you mutter, stopping just before the gate.

Rafe winces, his lips tugging into a rueful smile. “By the end of this, I’ll be lucky if I have any pride left at all.”

The door swings open, and Andrea steps outside with a warm smile. “Jane, Drew welcome!” she says wrapping her arms around both of you in a friendly embrace.

“Hi Andrea" you reply with a grin. “Thank you again for the invite.”

Andrea waves off your gratitude. “Oh it’s nothing. Come inside dear.”

As you both step over the threshold, you’re momentarily taken aback by the sheer size and luxury of the house. It’s so grand that you almost gasp in awe.

“Starkey" Diego calls out his eyes landing on Rafe. Without missing a beat, he strides forward and pulls Rafe into a tight hug.

“Hey man” Rafe says, giving Diego a friendly pat on the shoulder.

You smile, but your gaze shifts to Katherine, and the smile fades as a surge of irritation washes over you.

That bitch lied. Andrea had wanted to invite you both from the start, but she couldn’t find you at home. So she’d already told Katherine, but Katherine made it seem like she was the one who extended the invite just to get closer to Rafe.

And suddenly, the urge to hurt her just a little, was overwhelming.

You take Rafe’s hand gently pulling him closer. He meets your gaze for a moment before resting his hand on your waist, his touch warm as he hands Andrea the glass of wine. 

“I also made this for you" you say offering Andrea the pie you’d 'prepared' 

The blonde's face lights up with delight. “You didn’t have to, but thank you so much. Please head to the dining room. Katie, can you show them the way?”

Katie’s smile is tight as she gestures for you to follow her. You walk with Rafe at your side, his presence grounding, though your eyes wander as you take in the sheer size of the house. The dining room is massive, far bigger than you expected. The long table stretches across the room, easily seating over fifteen people. 

You spot him immediatel Bojan. Seated at the head of the table, laughing with someone beside him. He looks exactly like the photos you’ve studied but in person, there’s an edge to him that the pictures didn’t capture. His presence fills the room like everyone is drawn to him without question without doubt. It’s not just power it’s control. You squeeze Rafe’s hand. There’s no hesitation, no hint of nervousness. 

You take your seat, positioning yourself somewhat in the middle. Every eye in the room seems drawn to him and the weight of the moment hits you all at once. Andrea steps in, Diego at her side, and with a sharp clap of her hands, she commands the room’s attention. “Thank you all for coming tonight" she says. “A special thank you to Mr. Banović who graciously took the time to join us.”

The sound of applause fills the room, and without thinking, your hands start to clap, the sound hollow in your ears as you force yourself to join in.

Rafe’s gaze doesn’t waver from Bojan, and in that exact moment their eyes meet. Bojan’s smile stretches wider a slow, deliberate thing, and he raises his glass in a silent toast. Rafe responds with a subtle nod his own glass lifting in return.

If only Bojan knew that in the end, Rafe was the one who was about to ruin his life.

As the maids begin placing the plates down, the room fills with the sound of silverware clinking and murmurs of conversation. The guests dive into their dinner, plates being passed around as everyone chats with each other. Rafe sitting across the table turns to Diego who’s seated near Bojan.

“I hope you’re feeling better" Rafe says acting concerned 

Diego chuckles shaking his head. “Ah yeah thank God. No more trouble, at least for now" he replies with a grin

Bojan simply stares ahead continuing to eat with his mouth open, chewing loudly and without care. The sight of it almost makes you want to throw your knife at him in frustration.

Patience.

As he chews he nonchalantly gestures with his knife toward Rafe and Diego, his eyes flicking between them. “Who’s the new face?” 

This was it.

“Drew Starkey and that’s his wife Jane" Diego pipes in, Rafe doesn't miss the way Diego’s eyes linger on you. He’ll deal with that later.

“Starkey? That last name sounds familiar" a man next to you says, turning to Rafe.

“Probably because he has his own firm. He’s a luxury estate developer" Diego explains, his smile almost too eager. You both know exactly why he’s so invested in the conversation, because he’s brought a wealthy successful family to the table.

Rafe nods, taking a sip of his drink. “Yeah I have my own firm in North Carolina.”

The man beside you perks up, now understanding. “Oh right! I came to your firm when I wanted to design my penthouse in New York.”

You blink, caught off guard. Wait what?

Rafe glances at him just as confused as you are, though neither of you shows it.

“Ali Hassani" the man introduces himself. Rafe quickly acts like he recognizes the name nodding politely.

The truth? This man probably has Rafe confused with someone else entirely, but right now, it’s only working in Rafe’s favor.

“Ah I remember now" Rafe says smoothly, leaning back slightly. “How’s it working out for you? Is it meeting your expectations?”

The couple nods enthusiastically, their faces lighting up. “We absolutely love it" Ali replies. “It’s been perfect for us and for the kids too" his wife adds. “We might even reach out to you again in the future.”

Okay…

“Anytime" 

“What kind of properties do you specialize in?” Bojan asks his tone casual, but his sharp gaze reveals he’s testing Rafe.

Rafe smirks to himself leaning back slightly, exuding calm confidence. Right where I want you.

“High-end residential properties, luxury estates, penthouses, you name it" he says smoothly, tilting his head as if considering his next words. “Lately I’ve been expanding into private islands. Actually just last month, I wrapped up a $5.1 million mansion for-" He pauses turning to you with a raised eyebrow. “Angel remind me- who was it again?”

You don’t miss a beat your lips curling into a sly smile as you meet Bojan’s gaze briefly. “William Harris" you say your tone casual but carrying just enough weight to land the blow. “A London businessman. I’m not sure if you’ve heard of him.”

The table falls silent

Oh Bojan has. The faintest flicker of recognition passes through Bojan’s eyes gone almost as quickly as it appeared, but it’s enough to confirm you’ve hit the mark. He sets his fork down slowly, his expression neutral, though the tension in his jaw is unmistakable. During your research, you uncovered the bitter rivalry between him and Harris—a competition over business, wealth, properties, and influence that runs deep.

This was it. The perfect jab. The nail in the coffin.

Rafe doesn’t so much as blink, he leans forward slightly placing his elbows on the table as if to close the distance. His gaze stays steady, unwavering, as a faint smirk tugs at the corner of his lips. “It was a pretty low-profile project" he says smoothly. “You didn't hear it from me but pparently Harris is gearing up for something new. He was relentless about every detail, determined. From the way he talked, it’s clear he’s planning something big.”

“Is that so?” he says his eyes narrowing as they lock onto you and Rafe.

Come on, Bojan, you think, watching him carefully. Take the bait. Let it eat at you.

Diego lets out a nervous chuckle, the sound awkward and slightly strained. “Well our man Bojan here has been making new businesses left and right—all successful too.”

But he doesn’t acknowledge him. Instead, he picks up his glass, raising it slightly to signal the maid for more wine. The room falls quiet as the maid hurries over to pour, and you both watch him carefully, noting the controlled movements, the deliberate way he avoids meeting anyone’s gaze.

He takes a sip, his eyes fixed on the glass as he hums thoughtfully, the sound breaking the silence like a subtle warning. “Harris always had expensive taste” he says finally. Then, his gaze lifts, pinning Rafe with precision. “Tell me, Starkey, do you know anything about this… plan of his?”

Before Rafe can respond, you step in smoothly, your voice measured but disinterested, as if the question is barely worth your time. “Art of course. What's the best thing people buy these days?” you say, reaching for some salad without even looking at Bojan. “When he found out I collect pieces, he became very interested. Offered me a generous check but…” You pause letting your words hang in the air as you stab your fork into a cherry tomato. “I’m not too sure. I just don’t trust him. No offense.”

The statement lands like a stone in the quiet room, and you take the opportunity to glance around at the table. The flicker of surprise, curiosity, and unease in their expressions is exactly what you wanted. You chuckle lightly, leaning back in your seat. “But anyway" you say breezily, as if brushing it all aside. “Enough work talk. Let’s dig in.”

Bojan’s lips curl into a smirk, his eyes lingering on you. “You heard the lady" he says his tone laced with amusement as he raises his glass. “Let’s dig in everyone.”

Rafe’s hand slides over yours his fingers curling around yours in a gentle, reassuring squeeze. At this point, the intimacy feels natural like the way you breathe without thinking. You’ve grown used to the affection.

But then you feel the weight of someone’s gaze on you. You look up, and there she is Katherine. Her eyes are fixed on you both cold, her lips pulled into a tight, judgmental line. Bitch.

Without thinking twice you shift closer to Rafe, your side brushing against his as you lean in just a little more, making sure she knows exactly where you stand. You may be pretending, but that doesn’t mean you have to let her think she has a chance with Rafe.

She immediately looks away

After a relaxing dinner filled with light conversation, the group moves to the garden patio. It’s expansive, luxurious no surprise there.

You find yourself standing near the pool, the cool evening air mixing with the soft hum of chatter around you. Andrea stands beside you, her presence calming as always.

“So, how are you enjoying the vacation so far?” 

You smile, looking out over the water. “Good. We really needed this break from work.”

Andrea chuckles softly, nodding in agreement. “Yeah everyone does. Although we don’t exactly live here… this place feels like home to me.” She closes her eyes, taking a deep breath, as if absorbing the serenity of the moment.

You tilt your head, curiosity piqued. “How long have you two been married?”

A soft smile tugs at Andrea’s lips as she reflects, her eyes distant for a moment. “Forty years.”

The weight of her words settles in. “I was married when I was 19" she adds quietly, almost as an afterthought, her voice tinged with nostalgia.

“Marriage is hard" Andrea says with a sigh “I mean, you’ve only been married this year, so you wouldn’t know that much yet. You learn how to be quiet, turn a blind eye, forgive things you never thought you could.” She vents the weight of her words hanging in the air, before she softens her expression. “I really hope marriage is kind to you Jane. You’re a good woman.”

If you only knew.

She doesn’t seem to notice the flicker of something, uncertainty. “But I don’t doubt it. Drew’s amazing too. He really loves you.”

Your heart skips a beat, and you freeze for a moment. Have we been that convincing?

Andrea watches you carefully, her eyes softening with understanding. “It’s the way you two look at each other. You can be all annoyed with each other-”

You can say that again.

“-but in the end, it’s the little things that give it away. The smiles after each argument. The little gestures of affection. That’s what shows the love, even when it’s unspoken.”

You swallow unsure of how to respond, you'd be lying if you said her words didnt make your heart flutter 

Andrea laughs touching your ring "And of course this"

You glance at the ring, fake ring. Fake marriage, of course

All of this is fake

“Yeah I really got lucky with this one" you manage to say, though the words feel heavier than they should.

Andrea glances down at her empty glass with a slight groan. “Ugh let me go top this up" she mutters, then pauses, eyeing the room. “And figure out why Katie’s wandering around like that”

You laugh nodding in agreement. “Good luck with that"

As you turn to gaze at the pool, the cool ripples reflecting the dim lights, her words start to sink in.

What looks was she talking about? The way we look at each other hasn’t changed… has it?

Hatred. Annoyance.

That’s all it’s ever been. That’s all it should be.

Right?

But the longer you stare at your reflection, the less certain you feel.

Rafe doesn’t miss the way Bojan and Diego exchange glances towards him, their hushed conversation carrying just enough tension to confirm that everything is going according to plan.

As his gaze drifts back to the drinks he notices the maid reaching for an olive to drop into your martini.

“No without the olive please" he stops her just in time.

The memory flashes through his mind, you casually mentioning how much you hate olives. He isn’t sure why it stuck with him but it did. For some reason, he remembered.

Rafe picks up your martini and his whiskey, his gaze sweeping across the patio until it locks on you. He notices the way your fingers fidget with your bracelet- your tell when nervous.

Without hesitation he starts walking toward you, ignoring the faint call of his name from

Katherine. He doesn’t even glance back. Whatever she wants, it’s irrelevant.

When he reaches you, his arm slides around your shoulder in a smooth motion. He pulls you in close the heat of his touch grounding you as he holds your martini just within reach the movement casual but deliberate.

 “Gracias" you murmur with a faint smirk, grabbing the glass

Rafe rolls his eyes, a quiet scoff escaping him. “Will you ever let that go?” 

“Never" you reply a teasing edge to your voice as you take a sip of your martini.

The conversation fades leaving a comfortable silence between you. The cool night breeze brushes against your skin, carrying the distant hum of conversation from the others.

It feels good. The quiet. The closeness.

This feels good. Too good.

Rafe leans in, his lips brushing just close enough to your ear to send a shiver down your spine. “We did good" he whispers

Your breath hitches and for a second, you swear your knees might give out. “What?” you manage to say, your voice barely above a whisper.

“I’m saying we did good" he repeats, giving you goosebumps. “Bojan and Diego they’re talking about us.”

As you glance over, you spot Bojan heading in your direction. But Rafe doesn't care about him

now. He’s looking at you. His gaze lingers on the way your hair brushes against his face, the faint scent of your perfume catching his attention. You smell good.

“He’s coming" you whisper your breath warm against his jaw, the closeness making your voice barely audible. “We’ll talk to him for a bit, then I’ll slip away to Diego’s room see if I can find anything. Can you keep Bojan occupied long enough?”

“Easy angel” 

“My favorite people" Bojan exclaims with a boisterous laugh as he steps up beside you both

“Please don’t stop the compliments now" you joke waving your hand dramatically, a playful smirk tugging at your lips.

To your mild surprise Bojan chuckles, the sound deep and unrestrained. “She’s funny" he says, his eyes briefly scanning you with amusement. “I like her.”

Rafe nods "That makes two of us"

Bojan clears his throat, glancing around. “So I have a proposition for you" 

 “We’re listening"

Bojan flashes a smile his gold tooth gleaming in the soft light. “What if we make a deal?” He leans forward exuding confidence. “I’ve always been a fan of art…”

Got you.

“…and I feel it isn’t appreciated enough these days. I’m sure you, Jane, agree" He gestures toward you and you nod, playing your part perfectly. “I want to buy the pieces you offered Harris. I’ll pay double for them. And if Drew can find me a luxurious condo or an art gallery that would be a perfect fit…”

You pinch Rafe’s hand lightly, sending a subtle signal- we’ve got him now.

Bojan continues his tone taking on an almost syrupy sweetness. “I’ve always loved helping people, especially kids.”

Rafe’s jaw tightens at the words his impulse to punch Bojan rising, but he swallows it down, knowing the game they’re playing.

Bojan leans back his expression taking on a hint of sincerity, though it’s all fake. “So when I buy your pieces- and I’ll sell them of course seventy percent of the proceeds will go to charity. A charity for kids in need" He says it with such heartfelt conviction, it’s clear he’s trying to sell you on the idea that his intentions are pure.

Bojan leans forward, his voice full of excitement. “Think about it"

You turn to Rafe your expression softening. “Hm, what do you think baby?” you ask 

Rafe pauses for a moment pretending to weigh the offer, then looks back at you his voice dripping with uncertainty. “I mean it is a pretty good deal, right?” he asks, raising an eyebrow.

You nod slowly, playing along. “I’d say so" you reply your voice carrying just the right amount of thoughtfulness. “I mean, the money goes to charity, for kids.”

Bojan beams clearly pleased that he’s got you both where he wants you. “Yes yes" he nods eagerly, feeding into the idea.

You add with a touch of sympathy "So why not? We’re helping kids after all.” You let the words linger as though the sheer goodness of the idea is enough to seal the deal.

“So that’s a yes then" Rafe laughs. He claps Bojan’s hand firmly the sound of their palms connecting sharp in the quiet of the room. Bojan’s pleased expression widens, clearly thinking he’s won you over.

You’d love to celebrate, but you have workd to do. As you pretend to be caught off guard, you purposefully spill your drink onto your dress letting out an exaggerated gasp.

“Oh my god" you exclaim, quickly pulling away from Rafe as if mortified. “Got a little too excited there.”

The croatian laughs clearly enjoying the scene while Rafe lets out a low chuckle. “I mean, we are making a pretty great deal" Bojan says with a grin shrugging as if it’s only natural. “Excitement should be through the roof right?”

You let out a dramatic pout, already stepping away from the group. “I’ll let you men continue celebrating and talking more" you say with a light chuckle, “I need to go dry this off somehow.”

As you start to move you catch sight of Andrea and quickly make your way over to her. Grabbing her arm you feign frustration. “Where’s the bathroom? I accidentally spilled some drink on myself, and I don’t want this dress to smell or get ruined.”

Andrea gives you a sympathetic look. “Oh of course, Missy.” She turns to call for a maid who immediately appears by her side. “Sweetie can you take her to my bathroom? We’re renovating the guest bathroom, sorry you have to use mine.”

You don't have to be sorry for that Andrea

You smile graciously shaking your head. “Oh

don’t worry at all Andrea. I won’t be long.” You gesture for the maid to lead the way. “Lead the way Missy.”

Rafe smiles as you walk away his gaze lingering on you for a moment before he turns back to Bojan. “You really did a number on this island" he says his tone light but laced with a hint of sarcasm. “I’ve never been here before, so I can’t compare it to how it was, but if I had to guess… it must’ve been a complete dump.”

Bojan laughs slapping Rafe on the shoulder with a hearty chuckle. “It was all dirt" he admits, the amusement evident in his voice.

Rafe grins as he gives a playful shrug. “I can imagine.”

“So the contract" Rafe says. “I’m leaving soon, got meetings back home. When should we sign it? Tomorrow?”

Bojan groans rubbing his temple. “Tomorrow’s packed with meetings. You know what? The day after tomorrow, I’m hosting a gala for another charity. Why don’t you and Jane come? It’ll be the perfect time to discuss everything.”

Rafe’s expression remains cool, but inside his heart races. This was it, the moment you two had been waiting for. Bojan had finally extended the invite. You both played your parts flawlessly, pretending to be just another successful rich couple, all while getting closer to him. The mission was moving forward exactly as planned.

He leaned forward slightly his eyes narrowing as he made sure his response sounded just the right amount of enthusiastic. “Oh really?” his tone masking the thrill that pulsed through him. “That sounds great. Yeah we’ll be there.”

Internally, Rafe grinned. You just made the biggest mistake of your life, Bojan

Bojan chuckles, a deep, contented laugh, patting his belly with pride. “Good. It’ll be a night to remember” 

Bojan’s thick accent cut through the air, his voice sharp with irritation. “Where is that idiot- Karlo?” He called out, a hint of impatience in his tone. “Karlo come here.”

Rafe didn’t expect the bulky man to march right next to them, looming over the group like an unwelcome shadow. The same man they’d crossed paths with before, someone who already was suspicious of them. The moment his eyes locked onto Rafe his expression darkened. 

He didn't fucking need this too

“Yes… sir" 

Bojan waved a dismissive hand toward Rafe, oblivious to the tension radiating from his bodyguard. “Give Mr. Starkey here our invite. He and his wife will be joining us.”

Rafe met Karlo’s eyes, briefly acknowledging the unspoken challenge in the man’s stare. He didn’t flinch. It’s just a matter of time, Rafe thought, Before he figures out more than he should.

“Of course… sir" Karlo muttered his eyes still fixed on Rafe as he pulled the invite from his pocket, handing it over with a deliberate slowness.

The paper was thick, smart considering digital invites could easily be intercepted or hacked. Rafe nodded, appreciating their cautiousness.

“Thank you" Rafe said tucking the invite into his pocket but he didn’t expect Karlo to walk away just yet. The silence between them stretched longer than he expected and then Karlo spoke, as if he couldn’t help himself.

“Could you find the meat you wanted?”

Fuck you

“Yeah we went to a restaurant. Happy wife, happy life" he replied with a chuckle trying to play it off.

Bojan raised an eyebrow, clearly confused. “What meat? You two have met?”

Karlo turned slowly. “Yeah they came around the butcher shop. They wanted lamb meat. For his pregnant wife.”

“Pregnant? You didn’t tell us Starkey" Bojan says with a smile clearly amused.

Rafe chuckles giving a small shrug as if he's shy about the announcement. “It’s still early didn’t want to spread the word just yet… but yeah, she’s pregnant.”

Bojan clinks his glass against Rafe’s with a grin. “Congratulations.” His eyes narrow slightly, curious. “But wait- wasn’t she drinking alcohol?”

Rafe’s stomach tightens for a split second, but he keeps his composure, laughing it off. He gestures toward the lemonade on the table. “No, no. It was lemonade. Careful Bojan, I don’t want my child to turn out an alcoholic.”

“Isn’t he funny- oh come on Karlo laugh a little" Bojan urges with a grin though his smile quickly fades when Karlo remains stone-faced. “Always so grumpy… I keep telling him he needs to get laid.”

Rafe smirks a mischievous glint in his eye. “Suggestion? Katherine might be a good match for him.”

Bojan’s expression shifts instantly from amusement to disbelief. “Who’s- god not her.” He chuckles shaking his head. “I wouldn’t wish her on my worst enemy.”

Rafe forces a smile. At least he’d accomplished what he’d set out to do. Now all he could do was hope you had what you needed. You’d been gone far too long, and it is eating him out alive

“Goddamn stupid safe,” you mutter, frustration creeping into your voice as you fumble with the lock. Fifteen minutes had passed, and still nothing. Normally, you were skilled with these things, but this safe? This was a whole new level.

When you first entered Diego’s room, you’d started your search immediately, but nothing. It was like he’d cleaned up in anticipation. But then, you noticed the door leading to his office, and by some stroke of luck, it was left ajar.

You went through his drawers, but found nothing of interest. No laptop, no files, nothing that could help. But then your eyes landed on it: the safe.

You had to get in. And fast.

“Come on" you whisper under your breath, fingers trembling slightly as you dial in the third digit. “Just one more… fuck yes.”

The soft cling of the lock is music to your ears, the best sound you’ve heard all week. A rush of triumph surges through you, but it’s fleeting. As soon as you open the safe your smile falters.

It’s packed to the brim with cash.

“Idiot" you mutter your irritation bubbling up. Why the hell is he wasting my time on this? You notice the safe’s interior is far smaller than it appears from the outside. So no time to waste, your hands move swiftly pulling out stacks of bills and discarding them one by one.

Then your eyes catch something, a small handle hidden beneath the money. A smirk curls on your lips. You’re not that smart Mr. Gomez.

You grab the handle and open the surface with a quiet click the small compartment revealing its contents: files and a phone.

Sitting down you grab the phone first and connect it to yours sending a quick message to Pope. You don’t even wait for his confirmation. It’s a waste of time. You set the phone aside, turning your attention to the files stacked in front of you.

The first one is a contract. You recognize the terms instantly, women for sale bought and paid for like property. It doesn’t shock you anymore, but the cold truth still tightens your chest. It’s just another transaction, another group of lives lost to men like Bojan. You put the file down with a tight breath, your hands steady but your mind racing.

You move to the next file flipping it open. It’s a list of names, and underneath the grim labels of organs being harvested. You take it in, your stomach a little tight, but you don’t flinch. 

The photographs are worse though. The women in them are barely recognizable, their faces obscured, their bodies marked with numbers. Your jaw tightens the anger you’ve learned to hide simmering just below the surface. You don’t let it control you not here not now. 

You pause for a moment taking a breath. You don’t need to process it all, this is the reality of the job. You’ve seen worse. You will see worse. But that doesn’t mean it doesn’t get under your skin. It just doesn’t stop you. You’ve come too far for that.

Without a second thought, you stand up and make your way to the printer. You power it on, your fingers moving swiftly as you place the contract in position and hit PRINT.

“Come on" you mutter under your breath, tapping your foot impatiently as the machine begins its work. Once the first page begins to feed through, you grab the next file and then another, sending them through one by one.

As the printer hums in the background, you reach into your bag and pull out a small bug. You slip it discreetly under the desk then move to the lamp carefully placing the second one behind it. This will do.

You grab your phone from the ground, remove the cable from his phone. Rafes message caught your eye 

“Where are you?”

You exhale sharply. Not now Rafe.

The last sheet of paper comes through the printer, and you waste no time. You snatch the original files, Diego’s phone and stuff them back into the compartment shutting it quickly. Without hesitation you grab the cash shoving it back in as well.

Then you hear footsteps.

You freeze muscles tensing as the sound grows closer, nearing the office. Your heart starts to race, but you push it down. Slowly you reach for your gun feeling its weight in your hand as you silently click the safety off. The door creaks open and you’re on your feet in an instant, gun aimed directly at the person.

“Put the gun down" it was Rafe. You roll your eyes, frustration bubbling to the surface, but you do as he says sliding the gun back into your bag with a dismissive huff.

“What are you doing here?” you snap

“You were taking too damn long" Rafe snaps back he steps closer his eyes flicking down to the money scattered on the floor.

 “Be a good boy and put the money back in the safe" you smirk. “I’ll grab the files.”

Rafe exhales sharply, irritated but compliant, and crouches down to handle the cash as you reach for the printed files. With a quick motion,  you slip them under your short dress, tucking them discreetly into your bra, making sure they’re hidden securely.

“The bulky man from the butcher shop" Rafe says, his voice low as he closes the case. You hum in response.

“He’s Bojan’s guard" Rafe adds his tone a bit more serious.

You groan, frustration creeping up your spine. “Why is that guy everywhere?”

Rafe’s expression darkens. “And he fucking told Bojan that you’re 'pregnant'. He mentioned the butcher shop, everything.” His words hit you like a punch to the gut, and your eyes widen in disbelief.

“What- did he get suspicious?”

Rafe shakes his head his jaw tight. “At first, yeah. But I threw him off.” He pauses, eyes scanning the room, still on edge. “For now at least.”

“But" the blonde man grins, pulling a card from his pocket "we got this.”

You blink realizing it’s not just any card, it’s an invitation.

You gasp, disbelief clear in your voice. “You’re joking right?”

Rafe shakes his head, a smirk tugging at his lips. “No angel. We really got invited.”

You really should stop and think before acting, but in that moment, all you can do is run into his arms, jumping into him with pure excitement.

“Fuck yes!” you exclaim

Rafe’s deep laugh vibrates through his chest as he wraps his arms around you, pulling you close. The warmth of his body presses against you, and your heart races as the reality of the situation sets in.

“Alright we can celebrate later" he says, his voice low and steady. “But right now, we need to move.” Gently he sets you down, his hands lingering just a moment longer than necessary.

He grabs your hand without hesitation, pulling you toward the door. The urgency in his grip sets your heart racing as you step out of Diego’s bedroom and into the hallway.

The air feels tense heavy, like it’s waiting to explode. You turn left but the sharp echo of footsteps freezes you in place heavy, deliberate, and closing in fast.

Rafe exhales sharply his jaw clenching. There’s no mistaking that sound. The steady animalistic rhythm belongs to Karlo. Even earlier when Rafe left to find you, Karlo’s hawk-like gaze had never wavered from him.

Without warning Rafe stops in his tracks, turning to face you. His expression is unreadable, calm but laced with something raw something desperate. “Sorry- not really sorry"

“What?” you whisper your pulse hammering in your ears.

“Kiss me back"

“Kiss you—”

You don’t get the chance to finish. His hand cups the side of your face, and then his lips crash onto yours. The kiss isn’t rough, though—there’s a surprising softness to it, a deliberate slowness that steals your breath.

His lips are warm, impossibly soft, and they move against yours with a confidence that makes you forget, for one maddening second, where you are or why this is happening.

Heat blooms in your chest spreading through you in a way that makes your knees weak. And then the realization hits you like a punch, you like this. Too much.

You curse yourself silently, caught between the intensity of the moment and the sheer absurdity of it. Why didn’t you do this sooner? Why does it feel so damn right when everything else is so wrong?

But you give in, the tension in your body melting as your hands find their way to his neck. Slowly, deliberately, you pull him closer, your fingers tangling in the soft hair at the nape of his neck. Your lips respond to his meeting him with an intensity that surprises even you.

And Rafe? He loses himself completely.

The kiss is slow. Exactly how he likes it unhurried, yet charged with emotion. It’s everything he didn’t realize he needed, and more than he ever dared to hope for. 

He could've walked off with some excuse about needing to use the bathroom, even if it might have raised suspicion. He could’ve handled it, found another way.

But none of that mattered. Not when his mind had been screaming at him to do this to kiss you.

Because from the moment you stepped onto the cruise with him, he’d wanted nothing else. Now, with the taste of your lips, sweet with a hint of something intoxicating- he knows there’s no going back. You’ve wrecked him with one kiss, and as much as he likes being in control, he realizes he’s never been more undone.

Then it stops. The moment shatters as someone clears their throat once, then again louder this time.

Your eyes flutter open and Rafe pulls back slowly, the spell between you broken. His lips are smudged with red the evidence of your kiss impossible to ignore.

Rafe’s gaze flickers toward the croatian man, he has a scowl etched across his face. You, still catching your breath, find yourself staring at Rafe’s side profile for a moment before shifting your attention to the man again.

“Sorry man- 

The man’s sneer deepens. “What are you two doing here?”

Your lips press into a thin line fighting the urge to laugh “Sorry" you say, feeling embarrassed. “Things… got out of control. I went to the bathroom, and he came looking for me, and then, well this happened.” You gesture vaguely between you and Rafe.

Rafe nods, his expression sheepish as he scratches the back of his neck. “Yeah sorry about that" he adds offering a small, apologetic smile

The man’s eyes narrow but he doesn’t press further, his expression suggesting he’s more annoyed than suspicious. You can only hope he buys it.

“The guests are leaving" Karlo says slowly,

“Got it. We’ll be heading out too" Rafe replies

You don’t waste a second. Sliding your hand into Rafe’s, you squeeze it firmly as if to ground both of you then flash Karlo a polite smile. “Thanks for letting us know" you say lightly 

Karlo’s gaze hardens his eyes narrowing slightly, but he doesn’t stop you as you lead Rafe away. You wave over your shoulder a quick dismissive gesture. “Goodnight"

Once you’re out of his sight, the tension in your chest unravels in a sharp exhale. Your steps falter but you don't release Rafe’s hand. “That was way too close" you mutter

Rafe doesn’t reply only giving a brief nod, his jaw tight as he follows your lead. His mind, however is far from the present moment. It’s still tangled up in the kiss the way your lips moved against his, the way you felt pressed so close.

He steals a glance at you, his throat tightening. He can still taste the faint sweetness of your lips and it’s doing nothing to help the situation brewing below. Shifting uncomfortably, he shoves his hands into his pockets silently praying you don’t notice the very real problem he’s trying to manage.

You usually had no problem handling awkward situations. Most of the time, you couldn’t care less.

But not this time.

You sat across from Rafe at the small table, watching him sift through the files with a stony expression. The silence between you was heavier than usual, stretched taut like a rubber band about to snap.

He hadn’t said a word, not when you left Andreas house, not during the tense walk back to the house, not even when you handed him the files. His focus was razor-sharp, his brow furrowed as he scanned each page.

It wasn’t hard to see the shift in his demeanor as he read. The more he took in, the angrier he became. His jaw clenched, his grip on the papers tightening as if he might tear them in half.

You couldn’t blame him. You’d seen the same things he was seeing now, and the vile details were enough to churn anyone’s stomach. Still the tension in the air made your chest tighten. You weren’t sure if his silence was directed at the files or at you. Or at both

The kiss… Did he hate it? Did he regret it?

The thought wormed its way into your mind, and the more you dwelled on it, the hotter your frustration burned. You hated feeling this way uncertain, second guessing yourself. And worst of all, you hated the idea that he might be silently judging you for something he initiated.

Fine, if he hated it that was his problem. You sure as hell weren’t going to lose sleep over it, or at least that’s what you told yourself.

Then Rafe stood up abruptly the movement snapping you out of your spiraling thoughts. Your jaw tightened as you watched him.

Without a word he yanked off his T-shirt and tossed it onto the couch.  He couldn’t be near you right now, not with the memory of the kiss still burning in his mind, not with the way he wanted to close the gap again. If he stayed, he knew he’d lose control. And as much as he wanted to kiss you again, he couldn’t let that happen.

So in a show of restraint he could barely muster, he walked to the bathroom instead. Grabbing his toothbrush, he squeezed a generous amount of toothpaste onto it and started brushing his teeth. The repetitive motion was grounding, a distraction from the chaotic thoughts clawing at him.

But, of course, you being you, you walked right into the bathroom without hesitation.

Rafe didn’t even glance your way at first, though he could feel your presence like a spark in the air. He knew exactly what you were doing—pushing him testing his limits. You weren’t the type to brush your teeth without first taking off your makeup, doing your skincare routine, and changing into your pajamas.

He bit back a smirk the corners of his mouth twitching despite himself. You sly little vixen. 

The bathroom was steeped in silence, save for the rhythmic sound of brushes scraping against teeth and the steady flow of water from the faucet.

Rafe bent forward spitting into the sink. He straightened sparing you a glance as you stepped closer mirroring his movements. Leaning down you spit into the sink as well.

You rinse your toothbrush slowly, the silence between you two thickening almost unbearable. Then just to test him, you stretch your arm  making sure to brush your hand lightly against his chest as you place your brush on the other side. 

But instead of leaning in or teasing you like he usually would, he steps back. His movement is subtle but it’s enough to create a noticeable distance between you.

You freeze for a second irritation flickering through you. He never backed off, never. Usually he’d stay close, just enough to push your buttons, to get under your skin but this? This felt different, and it pissed you off more than you cared to admit.

You turn to him, your voice cuts through the stillness, a mix of confusion and annoyance. “Okay what’s your problem?”

Rafe looks at you, his eyes unreadable for the first time tonight. His lips press together for a moment before he finally responds. “What?”

“What do you mean ‘what’? You’ve been ignoring me-"

Rafe cuts you off with a frustrated huff. “I have not.”

“Yes have. Don’t lie.” You can feel your irritation rising with every word. “Ever since we left the house, you’ve been shutting me out. You didn’t even look at me. I told you about the files, nothing. I handed you the files and asked you something, silence. And now, you’re backing away from me like you can’t even be near me?”

Rafe sighs his gaze shifting to meet yours. He sees the anger in your eyes, and for a moment, he understands.

“I’m just tired, angel” he groans, turning to leave, but you step in front of the door, blocking his way.

“Lying again" you snap in disbelief “You’re not tired Rafe. Lie to whoever you want, but don’t think I’ll buy it.”

Before he can say anything, you press on, your words coming faster, more forceful.

“If you didn’t want to kiss me, why’d you do it in the first place? Or if you regret it, just be a man and say it. Don’t keep acting like a damn child—”

He cuts you off then, his hands gripping your face with surprising force, pulling you toward him. Before you can react, his lips crash against yours, silencing everything.

This kiss isn’t slow or soft like the last one it’s hungry, urgent. The kind of kiss that tells you there’s more beneath the surface. His hands slide down to your waist, pulling you closer his fingers digging into the fabric of your clothes like he’s trying to fuse you into him.

You pull away just slightly, enough to catch your breath, your pulse racing in your ears. He meets your gaze, his lips curling into a low quiet chuckle. “If I regretted the kiss angel” he says, his voice husky, a hint of amusement threading through "I wouldn’t be doing this.”

The words settle in your chest and without another thought, you wrap your arms around his neck pulling him back to you. The tension you’d felt moments before evaporates in an instant, replaced by an overwhelming need to feel him, to erase the distance.

His hands respond without thought, one hand sliding up your back, the other tightening around your waist pulling you closer, impossibly closer. You can feel his heart racing just like yours the heat of his body pressing into you, and the intensity of the kiss deepens. His lips move against yours with need

Without breaking the rhythm, he moves, guiding you toward the bedroom, his grip never wavering. Every step he takes is deliberate, every movement a promise of more.

He pats your leg a subtle signal, and without a word you understand. In a heartbeat you’re in his arms, your legs wrapping around his waist as he holds you effortlessly, the kiss still searing between you.

Without breaking it, he moves toward the bedroom, his grip never wavering. He slowly lowers you onto the bed, his lips never leaving yours. His mouth trails along your jaw, down your neck, his kisses soft yet intense leaving a trail of fire in their wake. A soft moan escapes your lips, as you arch into him, your fingers curling into his buzzcut, nails grazing his scalp in response to the pleasure.

Every touch, every kiss heightening the tension between you, making it impossible to think about anything other than the heat building with each passing second.

In the next few minutes, everything becomes a blur. One moment you’re kissing him, and the next you find yourself straddling Rafe, your dress forgotten on the floor.

You’re perched on his lap, his body leaning back against the headboard his breath ragged. His hands are everywhere, one gripping your ass pulling you closer, while the other moves higher, trailing along your side before resting at the clasp of your bra.

The soft beep cuts through the airalmost unnoticed at first, lost in the haze of the moment. But just as Rafe’s hand moves to unclasp your bra, a sudden, sharp realization hits you.

Someone’s coming.

You pull away from the kiss, your head snapping toward the table where the files are scattered open. 

Rafe groans in frustration, his hands gripping your face as he tries to pull you back, but you slap his hand away, urgency replacing any trace of desire. “Someone is coming"

The bell rings

 You exchange a glance, both of you instantly on high alert. You scramble to your feet, your heart pounding as you rush to the table, grabbing the files in a frantic motion. Rafe stands up quickly, his body tense, moving toward the door

Rafe’s hand instinctively moves to his gun his fingers brushing the cold metal as he opens the door, ready for anything. But when he sees the redhead standing there with that infuriating smile, his annoyance spikes. She’s holding a plate in her hands, and for a moment he almost shoots her on pure reflex.

She notices him standing shirtless, and her smile falters just slightly, her gaze lingering on him a bit too long before she swallows and straightens up.

Rafe’s patience snaps. “Can I help you?” he asks, If he had known she’d be standing on the other side of the door, he wouldn’t have even bothered to open it.

He’d pulled away from you, because of her

Katherine’s eyes flicker to his lips, and her smile falters when she notices the faint trace of red lipstick smeared across them. Her expression shifts but she quickly recovers, forcing a smile as she steps forward with the plate in hand.

“Hi Drew" she says her voice faltering slightly as she holds the dessert out to him. “I… I brought you some cheesecake. You said you liked it.”

The moment you hear her voice a wave of frustration hits you so hard, you’re tempted to march out there and slam her head against the nearest wall. She’s crazy

Quickly you hide the files, your mind racing. Grabbing Drew’s shirt, you pull it on over your head, taking a steadying breath before moving toward the door.

"I'm fine" Rafe tries to close the door, you hear her voice again, persistent and annoyingly chipper.

“It’s no problem really. Take it" she insists.

You step up beside Rafe, nudging closer to him, and without missing a beat, he wraps his arm around your shoulder. You can feel the tension in his muscles, but you lean into him, offering her a smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes.

“Katherine hi" you say, your voice dripping with sweetness. “We didn’t expect you.”

She looks at you, her expression twitching as she tries to mask the scowl forming on her face. “Jane… hi" 

You tilt your head slightly raising an eyebrow as if silently daring her to say something more. Try me bitch.

“I just wanted to give Drew-uh, you guys cheesecake"

You smile sweetly, stepping a little closer to Rafe as you speak. “That’s really sweet but we’ve got some leftover pie. We wouldn’t want to overdo it with all the sweetness" you say casually watching her smile falter and fall completely her composure cracking in an instant.

Rafe smiles at your words, a quiet chuckle escaping him as he tugs you gently, trying to pull you along with him.

But you remain still, not budging an inch. Your eyes lingering on him as you bite your lip. Once he’s gone you turn toward Katherine, your expression hardening as you close the door a little 

“I know what you’re doing" you say your voice cold and unwavering. “Drop it. It won’t work.”

You hold her gaze for a moment longer, watching the frustration flash across her face. Without another word, you slam the door shut, leaving Katherine standing there, fuming on the other side.

You both return to what you had left behind, picking up where you were so abruptly interrupted.

Rafe had been wrong, he did in fact end up using the condoms

[yyawnjun]

SOUP AND TEARS

a.n.: hii hello guys im slowly coming back!! and the crowd ???; always a bit stressed and busy, soo here's for y'all smting comforting (who am i kidding, all of this is pure sweet) ; fluff !! ; now let's all say THANK YOU TOO MY GIRL @sobun1est for proofreading all of this, ilysm <3; @k-labels @kflixnet @en-diaries ; 1.2k wc

your head was feeling heavier and your eyes were slowly closing. it was now after 9 pm, and you were at your house, with your computer open and many sheets all around your desk; it was exams season and you were stressing.

everything around you could have felt your anxiety, your leg was shaking to keep you awake and you kept writing and writing at your computer.

it was one of the biggest exams and you still had one week to prepare for it. but on that evening the more you tried to focus, the more you lost it.

“Yn! it’s ready, come to eat something.” the most comforting voice brought you back to life

“pretty please?” you heard your boyfriend’s voice, as a head peeked out from your bedroom door.

“five more minutes,” you said, almost whispering.

“pretty please, you worked enough for today”

“i can go on for another five minutes,” you replied, turning to him. and in that moment you realized that maybe you couldn’t.

you felt your head hurting a lot, and spinning intermittently, your eyes were burning from the dim light from the lamp and your words were stuck in your throat.

so you just nodded and tried to get up

“i recognize that look, you worked too much today” 

“finals..” you murmured.

he quickly moved to open the door for you

as soon as you stepped out of your room a pleasant smell hit you; you didn't recognize it right away, you just felt warmed by it as if your whole body felt like it was wrapped in a nice hot blanket.

“Please take this, okay?” heeseung said while taking off his sweatshirt and passing it to you.

you weren’t cold?

oh no wait, you were shivering. but at the same time, you were too exhausted to notice it.

“thank you” you replied while putting it on.

without even noticing you were now holding his hand, and for the whole passage to the kitchen gripped to it as if it was only thank to that you were able to stand up.

you were still trying to not move too fast nor to take your eyes too open otherwise you felt you could have fallen at any moment.

“i fear i have reached my limit for today” 

“you did a lot, maybe too much”

“but exams…”

and without adding anything heeseung just squeezed your hand a little and turned towards you.

his gaze softened, his smile appeared and his hands slowly cupped your face. first, he moved it closer to his, your eyes were still half closed and your noses were now rubbing against each other's.

it was not just that house that smelled of something so familiar and comforting, it was him.

heeseung then moved his lips against your forehead, and gently kissed it. your eyes were still closed as if you were trying your best to feel him closer to you.

now your head was leaning on his chest, your face fitting right perfectly in the crock of his neck. your arms were around him, and his head leaning gently on your head.

what if human bodies were just meant to hold each other?

and now you were thinking about nothing, but your eyes felt watery.

“you can cry now baby” and as you were waiting for permission to do it.

you cried, you cried a lot.

from that moment you just remembered blacking out and slowly falling on the floor. and heeseung with you, always holding you. holding you like something inestimable, letting your bodies melt together.

you felt inebriated by his sweet comfort, so lost in it, feeling like a sailor lost in the fog, blindly following the voice of a mermaid.

“darling hi, beautiful now look at me” 

you followed that voice and slowly opened your eyes.

you were now seeing everything so foggy, and you felt his hands moving to your face and his fingers caressing your temples.

he moved them to dry your tears, and all of a sudden your eyesight came back.

“darling, can I see your beautiful eyes, mh?”

but you weren't moving, you were just there sitting on the floor and lying on his chest.

he kept caressing you while whispering sweet words.

“Let me carry you on the sofa, and I will bring you some of the soup I've cooked for you. what do you think beautiful?”

all of these compliments and sweet words were helping to warm your heart and clevering your vision.

“thank you”

as soon as he heard your voice, his eyes lighted up and he quickly wrapped you close to him and moved you on the sofa.

while passing next to the kitchen you peeked in quickly And noticed how he decorated the whole room.

a candle not lighted up yet was surrounded by two red plates and matched glasses. Many snacks that you loved were. everything was so still, that few seconds you had to notice it was now Imprinted forever in your mind.

“here's a blanket for you, I will be right back darling, okay?” he asked in the sweetest tone possible.

suddenly you felt his presence moving away, the warmth of his body becoming lighter.

“baby, it's your favorite soup and I've cooked it all by myself” he said so proudly as a smile appeared on your face.

“ you're smiling “ he whispered, while leaning closer to you and moving a scoop full of soup To you. 

“Oh, it's delicious. thank you hee” you were able to say before feeling your tears forming again.

“You can eat it all” he said while slowly feeding you.

You were now gaining your natural color, your cheeks were pinkish and your eyes lighted up.

As you kept eating, your tears kept falling.

Your soup tastes a little bit like them now, no  matter how many times your boyfriend was drying them.

“I'm sorry” you were trying to keep repeating between the taste of tears and soup; while he just scoffed his head.

before you could even realize you had finished it, and now you were just staring at each other. 

“Don't ever be sorry for this: okay? instead, let me just help you. allow me to hold you for a bit more mh?”

“it will get better” he kept repeating while caressing your shoulder, 

“say it with me because you need to believe it, my Love”

And now your sorrows were more similar to comforting words.

“look, there's the moon watching over you tonight,” he said, after calming you a bit and pointing outside the window.

“ beautiful “

“Yeah, the moon is beautiful “

“Heeseung you are beautiful “ you said while looking at him. His eyes moved towards you again and his ears became reddish.

He smiled at you and suddenly your head was spinning again, but this time it was slower, more calming, and almost comforting.

“it will get better” was the last thing you heard before finally letting yourself fall asleep in his arms.

Oh, humans were really made to hold each other like this, he whispered before closing his eyes and falling asleep next to you.

[societyfolklore]

The Vet Visit

Title: The Vet Visit Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary:  A chance encounter at the vet’s office with their vastly different cats leads to an unlikely connection between Bucky and you. What starts as a shared experience becomes a tentative friendship and possibly more. Word Count: 4.4k

Warnings: Blood/Injury (mention) Fluff, Humor, Light Angst, Not Beta Read

A/N: My poor boy (Bean, yes that's him in the left photo) had his desexing appointment in Dec and this idea has been bouncing around since.

Bucky Barnes hated the vet. Not for himself-he could handle his own injuries-but for Alpine. His precious white cat was his soft spot, and the thought of her being poked or prodded made his stomach churn. Still, she needed her annual checkup, and he wasn’t about to let her health slide.

“Come on, sweetheart,” Bucky murmured as he tucked Alpine snugly inside his jacket. Her little head poked out, and she let out a soft meow, seemingly unimpressed by their destination. Her bright eyes darted around as if she knew exactly where they were headed, and her tiny paws kneaded against his chest in a silent protest. “Yeah, I know, but it’ll be quick.” He kissed the top of her head before stepping through the glass doors of the clinic.

The vet’s waiting room was already crowded when he arrived. Parents wrangled overexcited dogs, an elderly man wrestled with a squirming parrot, and at the far corner sat a woman struggling with a black-and-white cat who seemed intent on terrorizing the receptionist.

The cat hissed, swatted at the air, and yowled loudly as the woman apologized profusely, clearly exasperated. She adjusted her grip on the carrier as the cat tried swat at anything coming past the front of the carrier. Green and golden eyes glinting with displeasure. The feline was a striking black with a white chest, jaw, and paws. Its haughty demeanour was only amplified by the disdainful glare it cast at anyone who dared get too close.

“Chess,” she scolded, her voice a mix of sternness and affection. “Behave, you grumpy guts. We talked about this.” She crouched slightly moving his carrier to the floor, peering into the carrier as though reasoning with him might work. It didn’t. He let out another irritated yowl.

Bucky couldn’t help but smirk as he watched the interaction. Alpine, safely tucked away, poked her head further out of his jacket, observing the chaos with her usual calm demeanour. She let out a soft meow, almost as though she were chastising the other cat for its outburst.

The woman glanced over at the sound, her eyes landing on Bucky and Alpine. Her exasperation softened into amusement, and she raised an eyebrow. “Your cat’s… remarkably chill for a vet visit.”

Bucky shrugged, his lips twitching into a small smile. “Alpine’s always like this. Doesn’t mean she’s happy about it, though.” He gently scratched under Alpine’s chin, earning a contented purr that seemed to fill the room. “She which battles are worth fighting, this isn’t one.”

“Wish Chess was half as calm,” the woman muttered, casting an exasperated glance at her cat, who was now attempting to claw his way out of the carrier entirely. The sound of his nails scraping against the plastic, drawing the attention of a few others in the room. “He’s more of a… grumpy old man type, even though he’s only just hit one...” She sighed and shook her head as though used to this behaviour.

Bucky chuckled, his voice low and warm. “Looks like he’s got some fight in him. Spirited.”

“Oh, he does,” she said with a wry smile. “He was born outside to a feral cat. Though I got him inside a few weeks, he’s still..well. Even now, he’s… selective about who he likes.” She emphasized the word ‘selective’ with a slight roll of her eyes, though the affection in her voice was evident.

Bucky nodded, his expression softening as he listened. “I get that. I don’t really ‘people’ much myself.” His words were quiet, almost an afterthought, but they hung in the air like an unspoken truth.

The admission lingered between them, and the woman smiled, her curiosity piqued. “Well, maybe that’s why you two get along so well.” She glanced at Alpine again, noting how the cat’s demeanour matched Bucky’s quiet, composed nature. There was something endearing about the parallel.

For a moment, the waiting room and its chaos seemed to fade into the background. It was just the two of them, exchanging soft smiles over their vastly different but equally loved cats.

The receptionist called Bucky’s name, and he reluctantly got up, Alpine still snug in his jacket. Her tiny head shifted slightly to glance at the woman and Chess, as if unimpressed by their chaos. Bucky couldn’t help but glance back too, noticing how the woman struggled to keep Chess calm. The cat’s carrier rattled as he clawed at the door, his growls low and insistent.

“Good luck,” Bucky said, offering a rare, genuine smile that softened his usually stoic features.

“Thanks,” she replied with a laugh, brushing stray hair from her face. “I’ll need it. He’s about ready to overthrow the vet staff.”

Inside the exam room, Alpine was her usual cooperative self, a perfect contrast to the chaos outside. The vet cooed over her, praising her for being such a ‘model patient,’ and Bucky felt a flicker of pride. She purred quietly as the vet worked, her soft, rhythmic hum a soothing backdrop to the doctor’s instructions. Bucky listened intently, filing away every detail about her diet, her weight, and her follow-up care. He made a mental note to pick up the new treats the vet recommended on his way home. Alpine tilted her head at him as if approving of his attentiveness.

When the exam ended, Bucky gently scooped her back into his jacket, whispering a soft “Good girl” as she nestled in. Stepping back into the waiting room, he scanned for the woman. She was now seated with Chess perched on her lap, the cat’s tail flicking back and forth like a pendulum of barely-contained annoyance.

“Survived?” Bucky asked, nodding toward the now-quiet cat as he approached.

“Barely,” she replied, shaking her head with a mixture of relief and amusement. “He was all hiss and claw then he played dead for half the exam. It’s his go-to drama move when he’s offended.”

Bucky chuckled, sitting down beside her. Alpine stretched lazily in his arms, her bright blue eyes fixated on Chess. The black-and-white cat blinked at her slowly, his tail twitching slightly but without the hostile energy he’d displayed earlier.

“Guess they’re not mortal enemies,” she observed, smiling as Chess finally let out a long sigh and settled down. “That’s something, at least.”

“Progress,” Bucky agreed. He rubbed Alpine’s ears absentmindedly, earning a contented purr. “Looks like she’s won him over.”

The woman laughed, her smile lighting up her tired face. “She’s a charmer, that’s for sure. He usually hisses at everything that moves.” She glanced down at Chess, her hand smoothing over his sleek fur. “I think he’s just too tired to put up much of a fight now. Vet visits take it out of him.”

Bucky’s gaze softened as he watched her fuss over the grumpy cat. “He’s lucky to have you. Not everyone would put up with a … selective companion like him.”

She smiled warmly at that. “Selective is a kind way to put it. But yeah, I guess we’re stuck with each other. He’s picky, but I can’t really blame him. Trust doesn’t come easy when you’ve had a rough start.”

Bucky nodded, his expression unreadable but contemplative. “I get that. Trust takes time. For people… and cats.”

Her brow arched slightly at his candid tone, curiosity flickering in her eyes. “Well, looks like you found your match though. She seems pretty chill for a vet patient, though.”

Bucky shrugged lightly. “She’s used to it by now. She’s just good at hiding how she feels. Unlike Chess here.” He smirked, nodding toward the still-sulking cat.

“He’s dramatic, but he gets away with it,” she admitted with a chuckle. “Guess it’s part of his charm.”

“If you say so,” Bucky teased, the corner of his mouth twitching into a rare smile. The two sat quietly for a moment, their respective cats resting peacefully, and for a brief time, the chaos of the waiting room seemed far away.

As they prepared to leave, the woman struggled to juggle Chess’s carrier, a bag of supplies, and her purse. The cat, as if sensing her difficulty, began swaying in his carrier, further throwing off her balance. Bucky stepped in without hesitation, his movements decisive. “Here, let me help,” he said, already reaching for the bag of supplies.

“Oh, you don’t have to…” she started, but her voice trailed off as he effortlessly lifted the bag from her shoulder and steadied the carrier with one hand. The ease with which he handled the load, as if it weighed nothing, made her pause for a moment. There was something comforting in his quiet competence.

“It’s fine,” he said gruffly, adjusting the bag on his arm. “I’m used to carrying stuff.”

Outside, she stopped to set Chess’s carrier down next to her car, letting out a sigh of relief. “Seriously, you’re a lifesaver,” she said, brushing a strand of hair from her face. Chess glared up at her through the carrier’s door, tail swishing with irritation. “And not just for me-I think Chess is plotting my demise.”

Bucky smirked, glancing down at the sulking cat. “Well, if Alpine ever needs a friend, maybe they can plot together.” His voice carried a subtle warmth that softened his usual deadpan tone.

She laughed, the sound light and infectious. “Sure, a playdate between the grump and the angel. What could go wrong? Though, knowing Chess, he’d probably just glare at her the whole time.”

Bucky chuckled, the corners of his mouth twitching into a small but genuine smile. “Alpine wouldn’t mind. She’s used to giving people their space.”

As she adjusted the strap of her purse, their eyes met briefly, and she hesitated. There was something in his expression-guarded but kind-that made her feel unexpectedly at ease. Bucky shifted slightly, his hand lingering on the strap of the bag he still held. He hesitated for a moment before speaking again, his voice quieter this time. “You know, if you ever need help with Chess… or just want to compare notes, here’s my number.”

He pulled a small note book out of his jacket pocket and scribbled down his number, his handwriting surprisingly neat before he tore out the page. Handing it to her, he avoided her gaze briefly, as if unsure of her reaction.

Her eyes widened slightly, surprised but pleased. She took the offered paper with a soft smile. “Thanks. I might just take you up on that.” She folded the paper carefully and tucked it into her pocket, her fingers lingering there for a moment as if to make sure it was secure.

Chess let out a loud, dramatic meow from his carrier, drawing their attention. She glanced down at him, shaking her head with a laugh. “Guess that’s my cue to go. He’s got a lot to complain about on the ride home.” She started to unlock her car.

Bucky nodded, the faint trace of a smirk still on his lips. “Good luck with him.” He stepped back slightly, giving her space but still holding her gaze for a moment longer than necessary. “And let me know if you need anything. With Chess… or otherwise.”

“I will,” she said, her voice soft but genuine. As she turned putting Chess carrier into the car, she glanced back over her shoulder, her smile lingering in a way that made Bucky feel something he hadn’t felt in a long time-hope. “And tell Alpine she’s officially my role model for good behaviour. Maybe Chess can learn a thing or two from her.”

Bucky watched her go, his blue eyes following her car until it disappeared. The faintest hint of a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, a smile that lingered longer than he expected. Alpine, still tucked snugly in his jacket, let out a soft meow as if in approval. “Yeah, I know,” he murmured to her, scratching her chin gently. Her purr vibrated softly against his chest, a soothing rhythm that mirrored the unusual calm he felt. “She’s not bad, huh?”

Alpine blinked up at him, her gaze filled with a wisdom that only a cat could possess, as if to say, What took you so long to notice? Bucky chuckled, the sound low and almost foreign to his ears. “Alright, Alpine,” he said, adjusting her snugly against him, “guess we both made a new friend today.”

As he stepped out into the crisp air, Bucky’s mind lingered on the woman-her easy laugh, the way her eyes softened when she talked about her grumpy cat, and the warmth in her smile. He hadn’t expected much from the vet visit today, least of all meeting someone who made the world feel a little lighter. For once, he allowed himself to hold onto that feeling as he made his way home, Alpine purring contentedly the whole way.

The first text came later that evening.

Hey, just wanted to say thanks again for your help today at the vets. Hope Alpine’s doing okay.

Bucky stared at his phone longer than he’d admit, rereading the message more times than necessary. He felt a strange warmth bloom in his chest as he typed his response, carefully crafting each word before finally hitting send.

She’s good. Chess didn’t stage a coup, I hope?

Her reply came almost instantly.

Not yet, but he’s giving me the stink eye. Pretty sure he’s plotting something.

Bucky stared at his phone longer than he’d admit, rereading the message more times than necessary. The simple words seemed to carry more weight than he expected, sparking something he wasn’t entirely sure how to name. He hesitated, his thumb hovering over the keyboard, rephrasing his response in his mind before finally settling on something that felt right.

He felt a strange warmth bloom in his chest as he carefully crafted each word, considering how his tone might come across. Was it too casual? Too formal? Shaking his head at his own overthinking, he let out a soft huff and finally hit send, the faintest trace of a smile tugging at his lips as he watched the message disappear into the ether.

She’s good. Chess didn’t stage a coup, I hope?

Her reply came almost instantly.

Not yet, but he’s giving me the stink eye. Pretty sure he’s plotting something.

The corners of Bucky’s mouth twitched into a small smile. He wasn’t used to this- the casual back-and-forth, the ease of sharing small moments. Over the next few weeks, their conversations became a routine. Texts turned into late-night exchanges about everything from their pets’ quirks to the best spots for coffee in Brooklyn. He found himself looking forward to hearing from her in a way that surprised him. It wasn’t just her sense of humour or her empathy-though those certainly stood out-but the way she made the mundane feel lighter, easier, something he could hold onto.

One evening, after a particularly amusing exchange about Chess’s newest antics, Bucky stared at his phone for a moment, his thumb hovering over the keyboard before typing out a message.

Ever considered a coffee break for the humans while the cats plan their next schemes?

He sent it before he could overthink it, then immediately felt the ripple of nerves that always accompanied putting himself out there.

Her reply came quicker than expected.

Sounds like a plan. Though I’ll warn you… Chess is terrible at sharing secrets. When were you thinking?

Bucky felt a small smile tug at his lips as he typed back.

Your schedule. You’re the one dealing with the evil mastermind.

Thursday afternoon? I’ll need caffeine to recover from whatever chaos he’s cooked up by then.

Bucky chuckled softly, the sound startling him with how easy it felt. Thursday it is. I know a place near the park. It’s quiet, good coffee, and they won’t judge us if we start comparing vet horror stories.

Her next message was a laughing emoji followed by. Perfect. Can’t wait.

He leaned back, rereading their exchange with a sense of quiet anticipation. For someone who had spent years distancing himself from others, keeping connections at arm’s length, he was surprised by how much he looked forward to seeing her. It felt strange but also undeniably good, like the first warmth of spring after a long, brutal winter. Her messages, filled with humour and easy conversation, had become something of a highlight in his otherwise quiet days. It wasn’t just the words themselves but the way she made him feel-seen, in a way he hadn’t been in years.

For once, stepping closer didn’t feel like a risk he wasn’t willing to take. He even found himself imagining the coffee shop they’d meet at, how Alpine might judge him for spending so much time thinking about what to say or do. Would she bring up another of Chess’s antics? Would she laugh that warm, infectious laugh he could almost hear when he read her texts?

But before they could meet, duty called. He’d barely managed a rushed call to her, apologizing as he explained he had to leave town for 'work.' The disappointment in her voice was subtle but unmistakable, and it made something tighten in his chest.

"Oh," she said softly. "That’s a shame. I was really looking forward to catching up."

Bucky hesitated, the weight of her words settling over him. He wasn’t used to people being disappointed about not spending time with him.

"I’m sorry," he said quietly. "This came up last minute."

"No, I get it," she replied quickly, her tone brightening slightly as if to brush off her earlier reaction. "Work is work. We’ll have to raincheck that coffee, though. You still owe me stories about Alpine’s kitten days."

A faint smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "That I do."

Her quick recovery eased some of the guilt knotting in his stomach. “Um, I hate to ask,” he said, his voice hesitant, “but could you check on Alpine while I’m gone? Just for a few days. I’d leave food and everything she needs.”

“Of course,” she replied immediately, her tone warm and reassuring. “I’ll make sure she’s spoiled while you’re gone. Don’t worry about a thing.”

Her quick agreement caught him off guard, silencing the instinctive urge to apologize further. The ease with which she said it, as though caring for Alpine was second nature, warmed him more than he expected. She even added, “And I’ll text you updates… maybe even a picture or two, if Alpine’s okay with that.”

He chuckled softly, the tension in his shoulders easing. “She’ll tolerate it. Thank you. Really.” He ended the call with a quiet “Thank you,” but the gratitude lingered long after, a subtle reminder that letting someone in didn’t always have to be so terrifying.

True to her word, the updates came steadily over the next few days, it was a comfort to have something ‘normal’ while he was doing off in the trenches.

Update 1: Alpine has officially claimed me as her servant. She’s glaring because I’m taking too long to refill her bowl. The picture she sent alongside the text showed Alpine sitting regally by her food dish, her blue eyes fixed with faint disdain at the camera.

Bucky laughed softly and texted back. She’s testing you. Give her a treat and she’ll forgive you.

Her reply came within minutes.

Already ahead of you. She’s currently devouring it like the queen she is.

The next day, she sent a video. Alpine was curled up on the couch beside her, purring loudly as she absently scratched behind her ears. Update 2: She’s making me think I’m worthy of her presence. I think we’re bonding.

Bucky’s chest tightened as he replayed the video, his cat looking utterly content. He replied, You’re officially in her good graces. Not everyone gets that privilege.

It’s an honour, she texted back. How’s your trip?

The shift in the conversation-from Alpine to him-caught him off guard but warmed him in a way he wasn’t used to. He hesitated before replying. Rough, but it’ll be fine. Your updates help.

Alpine and I will keep holding down the fort.

When he returned days later, sore and visibly battered, she was there. His shoulders slumped under the weight of exhaustion, his jacket streaked with grime and his knuckles bruised from whatever mission had pulled him away. Bandages peeked out from under his shirt sleeves, and he moved stiffly, as if every step sent a dull ache rippling through his body. He hadn’t expected her to stay after feeding Alpine, but she’d lingered, tidying up his apartment and ensuring everything was in order. She turned at the sound of the door opening, her gaze landing on him with immediate concern.

"What happened?" she asked, her brows knitting together as she took in his dishevelled state. Her voice was soft but firm, carrying a note of gentle reprimand that made him feel seen in a way he wasn’t used to.

Bucky waved it off with a muttered, "Just part of the job," but his deflection didn’t faze her. Before he could retreat further into his walls, she was guiding him to the couch, her hands light yet insistent on his arm.

"Sit," she ordered, her tone leaving no room for argument. He obeyed, sinking into the cushions with a heavy sigh as she disappeared briefly, returning with warm damp cloth she have found in his bathroom.

She knelt beside him, her movements careful and deliberate as she cleaned the muck off his face before reaching for his jacket. "Let’s get this off," she murmured, her voice steady but soft as if she were trying not to spook him. He hesitated for a moment, his jaw tightening, but the exhaustion in his limbs won out, and he let her help. She slid the jacket off his shoulders, her hands pausing as the metal of his arm came fully into view. Her breath caught slightly, her fingers hovering mid-air, but she didn’t pull away. Instead, she pressed her lips together and nodded to herself as if making a silent decision.

"Okay," she said quietly, her tone calm but deliberate. "Let’s clean this too."

Bucky watched her warily, his gaze searching hers for any hint of unease. But all he saw was determination and something else-something warmer. She reached for a clean cloth, dampened it, and began wiping the grime from the Vibranium. Her touch was as gentle as it had been on his skin, the cloth gliding over the sleek, dark metal.

"It’s… impressive," she said after a moment, her voice careful but genuine. "You don’t see craftsmanship like this every day."

He huffed a soft, humourless laugh. "I'll let its maker know, they'll be thrilled to hear that."

She glanced up at him briefly, her lips curving into a small, reassuring smile. "I meant it as a compliment. It’s a part of you, Bucky. Nothing to be ashamed of."

Her words hit him harder than he expected, and he felt his throat tighten. She continued cleaning, her focus unwavering, and Bucky couldn’t help but marvel at the tenderness she showed-not just to him but to every part of him. She didn’t pepper him with questions he couldn’t answer; instead, she worked quietly, her presence steady and grounding. Every so often, her eyes flicked to his, silently checking if he was in pain or pushing himself too far. "You need to rest," she said softly when she finished, her fingers brushing his wrist for a moment before she pulled back. "Whatever it is you’re doing-it can wait."

The next morning, she returned with breakfast. “For you and Alpine,” she said with a warm smile, holding up a bag of fresh pastries and a small container of cat treats. Her easy attitude brought an unexpected calm to Bucky, and for a moment, he could only nod in gratitude before gesturing for her to sit beside him.

“You didn’t have to do this,” he murmured, his voice quiet but genuine.

“I wanted to,” she replied, settling in next to him. “And besides, I think Alpine’s already expecting her morning treats from me. You’ve got some competition.” She winked, teasing, as Alpine let out a soft, approving meow.

They ate together in comfortable silence, the sounds of breakfast and Alpine’s contented purring filling the room.  Alpine weaving around their legs under the table. Bucky couldn’t help but chuckle, his eyes softening as he watched their interaction.

“She’s definitely warmed up to you,” he said, reaching out to scratch Alpine’s head. “Not an easy thing to do.”

“I’ll take it as a compliment,” she replied with a grin, her fingers brushing lightly against his as they both reached for Alpine at the same time. The brief touch sent a faint jolt through him, and he pulled back slightly, his gaze flicking to hers. She didn’t seem fazed, only smiled softly, and turned her attention back to Alpine.

For the first time in years, Bucky felt a sense of peace he hadn’t realized he was missing. Her presence filled the quiet spaces in a way that didn’t feel intrusive but comforting. There was a lightness to her-in the way she carried herself, in her laughter, and even in the way she interacted with Alpine-that seemed to chase away the shadows that usually loomed over him.

As they finished eating, she leaned back, laughing at something on her phone and sharing bits of her pastry with Alpine. Her laughter was warm, infectious, and it lingered in the room long after she stopped. Bucky’s chest tightened again-not with fear this time, but with something that felt a lot like hope. He’d spent so long convincing himself that letting people in was a risk he couldn’t afford, but with her, it didn’t feel like a risk. It felt like a promise.

“Thanks for breakfast,” he said after a while, his voice quieter, almost shy. “And for... everything else.”

She looked over at him, her eyes softening. “Anytime, Bucky. Really.”

And for the first time in a long while, Bucky found himself wondering what it might mean to let himself hope for more. She had this way of making his world feel less heavy, less bleak. Letting someone in was something he’d sworn he wouldn’t do again, but with her, it didn’t feel so daunting. In fact, it felt like the most natural thing in the world. And for the first time in a long while, Bucky found himself wondering what it might mean to let himself hope for more.

[jjkfanfic]

NANAMI KENTO X YOU

The bookstore

You found yourself wandering the bustling streets of Tokyo, the vibrant city lights reflecting the excitement humming through the air, it was dusk, so bit to dark but definitely getting there.

People moved past you, chatting and laughing, their faces lit up by the neon signs. Tonight felt different. You had decided to explore a new part of town, and the electric energy surrounding you made your heart race, was there a curse around here?

Or something else?

As you turned a corner, you noticed a familiar figure standing by a small bookstore, he was sitting at a little cafe style table, and there was a cup of tea in front of him, he was lost in the pages of a novel. Kento Nanami. His sharp features were softened by the warm glow of the streetlight, and a small smile played at the corners of his lips, deepening as he read.

You hesitated, not wanting to interrupt his moment of peace, but something about the gentle curve of his smile drew you closer. You took a deep breath, gathering your courage, and approached him. Your heart pounded in your chest like a drum with each step.

“Nanami-san?” you ventured softly, trying to keep your voice steady.

He glanced up, surprise flashing across his face. “Ah, hello,” he greeted, marking his page before closing the book gently. His gaze lingered on you for a moment, a hint of curiosity in his eyes.

“I didn’t take you for the type to enjoy wandering bookstores,” you teased lightly, attempting to mask your nervousness with a smile.

His lips curled into a small, amused smile. “Well, even sorcerers need their moments of escape.” His voice was smooth, and his relaxed demeanor put you slightly at ease.

You talked about your favorite books and shared stories about recent missions. He had a knack for storytelling that drew you in, and each laugh you shared felt like a step closer. As the night deepened, the crowd around you thinned, leaving just the two of you in the comforting silence of the city. The world felt intimate, almost like a bubble.

“I’ve always admired you, ya know. You work so hard and then you just switch it off when you get off, I cant turn work off that easy,” you confessed, feeling slightly shy.

He studied you for a moment, and you could see a flicker of intensity in his gaze, making your heart skip a beat. “Dedication to work is important, but so is dedication to your personal life” he replied, his tone serious yet soft. “It helps you appreciate things more”

You felt the air charge with something deeper. Eventually, when the evening had to end, you turned to leave, the bitter realization hitting that this moment was slipping away, you wanted to talk to him more, Just then, you heard him call your name.

“Wait,” he said, stepping closer. Your heart raced as his eyes locked onto yours with a fierce determination.

“Forgive me,” he murmured, his voice low and husky, carrying a weight that made your breath hitch.

"For wha-" Before you could even finish, he pulled you against him, capturing your lips with his in a fiery kiss. It was everything you hadn’t expected—deep and urgent. The warmth of his body pressed as he gripped your hip and pulled you against him sent a thrill through you, and your heart raced even faster. His other hand tangled in your hair, tilting your head to meet him more passionately.

You melted against him, the kiss igniting something wild within you. You wrapped your arms around his neck, kissing him back with equal fervor as the world faded around you. It felt electric, as though every touch and movement sparked a fire that rushed through your veins.

“Wow…” you breathed as he pulled back, his forehead resting against yours, both of you gasping for air. A mixture of surprise and exhilaration flooded your senses. “I didn’t see that coming.”

He chuckled softly, his breath fanning against your skin. “Neither did I, but I couldn’t help myself,” he admitted, a crooked smile appearing on his lips as if he was sharing a secret.

The moment felt suspended in time, and the warmth between you was undeniable. “So, is this how you normally say goodbye?” you teased, trying to lighten the sudden weight of emotion.

Nanami chuckled, shaking his head slightly. “Only when the moment feels right. And this felt very right.” he smiled and ran his thumb over your bottom lip.

“let me walk you home” he murmured, his eyes still holding that spark as he stepped back, giving you a chance to catch your breath.

You nodded, your heart racing wildly as you tried to regain your composure. The thrill of that kiss lingered, a promise of what was yet to come. As you both turned to leave, the night felt heated, and so did you.

[natasaa13]

"You’re trouble" ft. Choso Kamo

Part 4

18+ minors do not interact!!!

Previous

"You’re trouble, you know that?” Choso murmured, his voice filled with a mixture of amusement and affection.

Musa laughed softly, her hands still resting on his chest. “You’re not exactly innocent yourself.”

“Fair enough,” he said, his smirk widening.

The air had taken on the distinct crispness of late October, carrying the faint smell of fallen leaves and wood smoke. The park, one of Musa and Choso’s usual meeting spots, was alive with the vibrant hues of autumn—fiery reds, burnt oranges, and golden yellows. They walked side by side, their footsteps crunching against the leaf-strewn path, the faint sound of distant laughter from children playing nearby filling the air.

It had been a month now since Musa and Choso’s relationship began, their moments together tucked into the cracks of their carefully constructed lives. Whenever Suguru was with Shoko, Musa would slip out with the excuse of catching up on schoolwork at the library. Other times, Shoko would cover for her, giving her the freedom to meet Choso at random cafés or quiet corners of the city where no one would think to look.

She had learned a lot about Choso during their secret meetups. He wasn’t just the quiet and mysterious guy Suguru called a friend—he was far more complex. Through their conversations, she discovered he had two brothers: Yuuji and Sukuna.

Choso lived with Sukuna, though he admitted his older brother was rarely home. Sukuna split his time between school and boxing, leaving the apartment eerily quiet most days. Yuuji, on the other hand, lived with his friends Nobara and Megumi but visited Choso whenever he could. The way Choso spoke about his brothers made Musa’s heart soften—there was an unspoken protectiveness in his tone, even when he joked about Sukuna’s endless energy or Yuuji’s goofy antics.

And then, there were the little details she hadn’t expected to learn, like the fact that Choso had a tongue piercing. The first time she noticed it, a brief flicker of silver as he spoke, she’d been caught completely off guard. How much more attractive could one man get? It was almost unfair.

“Hey,” Choso said, breaking the silence. He glanced at Musa, his dark eyes warm against the cool backdrop of the season. “You’ve been quiet. Everything okay?”

Musa nodded, pulling her cardigan tighter around her body. “Yeah, just... thinking about how fast this month has gone by.”

Choso’s lips curved into a small smile. “Good fast or bad fast?”

“Good fast,” Musa replied, her voice soft. She turned her head to look at him, the faintest smile tugging at her lips. “Definitely good fast.”

Choso chuckled, his breath visible in the cool air. “I’ll take it.”

They walked a little further, the world around them peaceful in its autumn stillness. Choso broke the quiet again. “So… Halloween’s coming up. Big plans?”

Musa shrugged. “Not really. Suguru and Shoko might do something, but I haven’t heard anything solid yet. Why?”

“Satoru’s throwing a party,” Choso said, kicking at a stray leaf. “You know him—loud music, questionable decisions, and probably some over-the-top costume. Should be fun.”

Musa laughed. “That sounds like Satoru.”

Choso grinned. “You should come.”

Musa blinked, her laughter fading into surprise. “Me? At one of Satoru’s parties? That’s... not exactly low-profile. Remember what happened last time?”

“Think about it,” Choso said, his tone light but persuasive. “Big crowd, plenty of distractions. Shoko can keep Suguru busy, and we can just… blend in. Get lost in the chaos for a bit.”

Musa hesitated, her gaze dropping to the ground as she considered it. “I don’t know, Choso. What if someone sees us? Or worse—what if Suguru sees us?”

“ He won't, won't worry too much okay?" his tone is soft and reassuring

“I’m serious, though,” Choso said, his voice softening. “You deserve a night to just… have fun. No sneaking around, no excuses. Just us.”

Musa looked up at him, her heart swelling at the sincerity in his gaze. “Okay,” she said quietly, her voice barely above a whisper.

Choso smiled, his expression lighting up. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Musa said, returning his smile. “But if this backfires, it’s all on you.”

“Deal,” Choso said with a laugh. “Now, any ideas for costumes?”

“Something subtle,” Musa said firmly. “We’re supposed to blend in, remember?”

“Subtle,” Choso repeated, his tone teasing. “Got it.”

As they rounded a bend in the park, the distant hum of the city blended with the rustling of leaves. Musa’s thoughts were already racing ahead, the idea of sneaking off to Satoru’s party equal parts thrilling and nerve-wracking.

“Got any ideas?” Choso asked, glancing at her curiously.

She paused, tapping a finger against her chin as she thought. “How about… Pucca and Garu?”

Choso raised an eyebrow. “Pucca and Garu? Like, the cartoon characters?”

Musa grinned, her excitement bubbling over. “Yeah! It’s perfect. Pucca’s always chasing after Garu, and Garu’s… well, he’s quiet and kind of mysterious. It fits.”

Choso laughed, the sound warm and genuine. “So, you’re saying you’re Pucca?”

“Obviously,” Musa said with a mock-serious tone, crossing her arms. “And you’re Garu. It’s not even a question.”

Choso shook his head, still smiling. “Alright, Pucca. I’ll bite. What do I need for this costume?”

Musa’s eyes sparkled with excitement as she clapped her hands together. “Okay, so here’s the plan. You’ll need black pants, a black shirt, red gloves, and—oh, a red heart on your shirt.”

Choso raised an eyebrow. “A red heart? Is Garu secretly a romantic?”

“Of course,” Musa teased, grinning. “He’s just subtle about it. And your signature pigtails are already perfect. You don’t even have to try.”

Choso ran a hand through his hair, chuckling. “Guess I’m a natural ninja, huh?”

“Something like that,” Musa said with a laugh. “And for me, I’ll wear a red dress and put my hair in buns. Simple and cute.”

Choso tilted his head, his eyes softening as they lingered on her. “You’ll look perfect.”

Musa’s cheeks flushed, but she quickly waved him off. “Focus, Garu. We’re talking strategy here.”

He laughed, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “Alright, alright. Black shirt, red heart, gloves, and my hair. Got it.”

Choso leaned closer, his smirk softening. “You really thought this through, huh?”

Musa felt her cheeks heat up, but she held his gaze. “Maybe I’ve been wanting to dress up as Pucca for a while. You’re just my perfect excuse.”

“Glad I could be of service,” Choso teased, his tone light. “Alright, Pucca and Garu it is."

------------------‐---------

Musa stepped into the house after her “study session,” the cool autumn air still clinging to her jacket. The soft hum of the TV filled the space, and she spotted Suguru lounging on the couch, his long hair tied back as he flipped through channels.

“You’re back,” he said, glancing up with a small smile. “How was the library?”

“It was good,” Musa replied, setting her bag down by the door. “Caught up on a lot.”

Suguru nodded, stretching slightly. “You hungry? I was just about to make something.”

Musa’s stomach rumbled at the suggestion, and she laughed. “Yeah, sure. I’ll help.”

The two moved to the kitchen, working side by side as they prepared dinner—a simple stir-fry with rice. It wasn’t long before they were seated at the dining table, the warm aroma of their meal filling the room.

As they ate, Musa hesitated for a moment before bringing up her idea. “So, um, I heard from Shoko that Satoru’s throwing a Halloween party.”

Suguru raised an eyebrow, his chopsticks pausing mid-air. “Yeah, I know. Not even surprised.”

“Well,” Musa continued, her voice carefully casual, “would it be okay if I tagged along? Shoko mentioned you guys are going. Well obviously since Satoru is you best friend.”

Suguru frowned slightly, his protective instincts flaring up. For a moment, he considered saying no, but then a thought stopped him: Maybe I’ve been too overbearing. Maybe that’s why she’s been acting distant.

He sighed, setting his chopsticks down. “Yeah, okay. You can come with us. Just… be careful, alright? And stick with Shoko.”

Musa’s face lit up, her excitement unmistakable. “Really? Thanks, Suguru! I promise I’ll behave.”

Musa twirled her chopsticks in her hand, the warmth of the meal and Suguru’s rare relaxed demeanor easing her nerves. She leaned back in her chair, her smile lingering. “Honestly, I’m surprised you’re letting me go. I thought you’d say no right away.”

Suguru raised an eyebrow, giving her a mock-offended look. “What, you think I’m some overbearing tyrant?”

“Well...” Musa teased, dragging the word out. “You do have your moments Suguru.”

He smirked, shaking his head. “Can you blame me? You’re my little sister. It’s literally my job to keep you out of trouble.”

“I’m three minutes younger!” Musa protested, playfully glaring at him.

“Still younger,” Suguru countered with a smug grin, taking another bite of his food.

Musa huffed, crossing her arms, but the amusement in her eyes betrayed her. “You act like I’m some reckless kid. I can handle myself, you know.”

“I’m sure you can,” Suguru said, his tone softening. “But I’ve barely seen you this past month. You’ve been running off to the library or Shoko’s all the time. It feels like you’re avoiding me.”

Musa froze for a moment, her heart skipping a beat. She quickly recovered, forcing a casual tone. “It’s just schoolwork, Suguru. Midterms are no joke.”

He nodded slowly, but his dark eyes studied her carefully, as if trying to read between the lines. “Maybe. Or maybe I’ve been so caught up with Shoko that I haven’t noticed what’s been going on with you.”

Musa’s guilt tugged at her, but she pushed it down, smiling brightly. “You don’t need to worry about me. I’m fine, really. Besides, it’s nice to see you happy with Shoko. She’s good for you.”

Suguru’s expression softened, a rare vulnerability flickering in his eyes. “Yeah, she is. She keeps me grounded.”

Musa chuckled, leaning forward. “And by ‘grounded,’ you mean she puts up with your nonsense and calls you out on it.”

“Exactly,” Suguru said with a grin, not even trying to deny it.

They both laughed, the sound filling the kitchen with an ease that hadn’t been there for a while.

“What are you planning to dress up as?”

“Pucca,” Musa declared, grinning. “It used to be our favorite cartoon, remember?”

Suguru laughed, the sound warm and nostalgic. “Yeah, I remember. You used to run around the house chasing me, yelling, ‘Garu!’”

Musa laughed along with him. “Well, I’m bringing her back for Halloween.”

“That suits you,” Suguru said with a smirk. “Shoko and I are going as a priest and a nun.”

"Seriously, a priest and a nun? That’s... a choice.”

Suguru chuckled “Shoko’s idea. She thought it’d be ironic and hilarious. Who am I to say no?”

Musa shook her head, laughing. “You two are something else. It’s so dark, but I kind of love it.”

“You should’ve seen her convincing me,” Suguru said, leaning back in his chair. “She said it’d be the talk of the party. ‘Suguru Geto, the rebellious priest.’”

Musa laughed harder, almost choking on her rice. “She’s got a point. You do have the vibe for it.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Suguru said, rolling his eyes but smiling.

After a pause, Musa tilted her head, curiosity gleaming in her eyes. “So, what’s Satoru’s costume? Do I even want to know?”

Suguru groaned, running a hand through his hair. “Honestly? I don’t know. He says it’s a surprise, which scares me more than it should. You know how he is—he’ll probably go all out just to make a scene.”

Musa grinned. “Now I’m intrigued. I mean, it’s Satoru—how bad can it be?”

Suguru gave her a deadpan look. “You remember last year’s toga party?”

Musa winced. “Oh, right. The golden laurel crown. The glitter. The... extremely short toga.”

“Exactly,” Suguru said, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I wouldn’t be surprised if he showed up as, like, a vampire with a 12-foot cape or something equally ridiculous.”

They both dissolved into laughter again, the conversation flowing effortlessly. For the first time in weeks, Musa felt a sense of normalcy with her brother—a reminder of the bond they’d always shared.

As dinner wound down, Suguru glanced at her, his tone soft "You know I love you right sis?"

“I love you too Sugu,” her smile softening.

And for a moment, as they cleaned up the dishes together, everything felt almost perfect

------------------‐---------

Halloween night approached, Musa stood in front of the mirror in her room, her red dress laid out neatly on the bed. She ran her fingers through her thick black hair, sighing in frustration as she tried to gather it into buns.

“Suguru!” she called out, her voice carrying through the house.

A moment later, her brother appeared at her door, leaning against the frame with a raised eyebrow. “What’s up?”

Musa turned to him, gesturing at her hair. “I need help.”

Suguru blinked, looking mildly confused. “Help with what?”

“My hair,” Musa said, exasperated. “It’s too thick, and I can’t get the buns right. You’re the only one here, so congratulations—you’re my hairstylist tonight.”

Suguru sighed dramatically but stepped into the room. “Alright, Pucca, let’s see what we can do.”

Musa handed him a brush and some hair ties, sitting down on the stool in front of her vanity. “Half down, and the other half in buns. You think you can handle that?”

“Of course I can,” Suguru said, feigning offense. “I’ve mastered more complicated things than this.”

“Uh-huh,” Musa replied skeptically, watching him in the mirror as he picked up the brush.

Suguru stared at her hair for a moment, muttering under his breath, “You have way too much of this stuff,” before starting to brush it out.

“Hey!” Musa protested, laughing. “It’s not my fault I was blessed with amazing hair. Anyways your acting like yours is shorter than mine”

“Sure, let’s call it a blessing, plus mine isn't as thick nor wavy” Suguru teased, sectioning her hair.

As he worked, carefully parting her hair and securing half of it down, the usual teasing fell into a comfortable silence. The sound of the brush gliding through her waves was soothing, and for a moment, it reminded them both of simpler times—times when they were kids and used to help each other out without hesitation.

“Thanks for doing this,” Musa said softly, breaking the silence.

Suguru glanced at her reflection in the mirror, his expression softening. “Of course. You’re my little sister—it’s my job.”

Musa rolled her eyes but smiled. “Three minutes younger doesn’t make me that much smaller, you know.”

“It’s enough,” he replied, smirking as he twisted the first section into a neat bun.

They fell into silence again as he moved to the other side. Once he was done, Suguru stepped back, admiring his work. “There. Not bad, huh?”

Musa turned her head slightly, her eyes lighting up as she admired the hairstyle in the mirror. The buns were perfectly even, and the loose waves framed her face beautifully. “Wow, Suguru, you’re actually really good at this.”

“Don’t sound so surprised,” he said with a smug grin, crossing his arms.

Musa stood and gave him a quick hug. “Seriously, thank you. I owe you one.”

“You owe me about ten,” Suguru quipped, ruffling her hair slightly just to mess with her.

Musa swatted his hand away, laughing. “You’re the worst. Now I have to fix that!”

“Better hurry up,” Suguru said, heading for the door. “Shoko’s already texting me, saying she’s ready to go.”

“Alright, alright!” Musa called after him, shaking her head as she adjusted her hair.

For a moment, Musa stood there, the warmth of their shared moment lingering. Despite everything, Suguru was still the brother she’d always looked up to.

She quickly finished adjusting her hair, smoothing out any stray strands. As she turned back to her bed, she picked up her long-sleeve red dress, slipping it on carefully. The fabric hugged her chest and waist snugly before flowing out softly, the hem stopping at mid-thigh. She added knee-high black socks and wedge boots, completing the look with a satisfied glance in the mirror.

The outfit perfectly captured Pucca’s playful yet bold style, and Musa couldn’t help but smile.

Suguru’s voice echoed from the hallway. “Musa! If you don’t hurry up, we’re leaving without you!”

Rolling her eyes, Musa grabbed her phone and stepped out of her room. In the hallway, Suguru and Shoko were waiting. Suguru, dressed as a priest, looked his usual composed self despite the irony of his costume, while Shoko, dressed as a sexy nun, was grinning mischievously.

“Hury, we're already late,” Suguru said, crossing his arms.

Musa struck a playful pose. “Worth it, though. I look amazing.”

Shoko nodded in approval. “You do. Pucca never looked so good.”

“Thanks,” Musa said with a grin. “And you two look... disturbingly good. Very morbid. I love it.”

Suguru smirked, adjusting his collar. “We’re stealing the show tonight. No contest.”

“You might have some competition,” Shoko teased, nudging him. “I hear Satoru’s costume is going to be... something.”

Suguru groaned. “Don’t remind me. I’m mentally preparing for whatever nonsense he’s planned.”

The three of them stepped outside, the cool autumn air greeting them as leaves crunched beneath their feet. The faint smell of woodsmoke lingered in the air, adding to the Halloween ambiance.

As they walked toward Suguru’s car, Musa couldn’t help but feel a mix of excitement and nerves. The night promised to be unforgettable—and full of risks.

“Let’s get this over with,” Suguru said, unlocking the car. “The sooner we deal with Satoru’s antics, the sooner we can all just enjoy the night.”

--------------------------------------------

The drive to Satoru’s house was lively, the car filled with the hum of conversation. Shoko sat in the passenger seat, fiddling with her phone, while Musa leaned back in the rear seat, gazing out at the glowing orange streetlights lining the road. The autumn evening was crisp, the occasional breeze stirring the fallen leaves.

Suguru, ever the careful driver, had one hand on the wheel and the other resting casually on the gear shift. “Let’s get one thing straight,” he said, glancing at Shoko. “If Satoru starts anything tonight, you’re on damage control.”

Shoko smirked, her eyes glinting with amusement. “What makes you think I can control him?”

“You’re the only one who even tries,” Suguru retorted, rolling his eyes.

Musa chuckled from the back seat. “Honestly, I think we should just let him run wild. It is Halloween, after all.”

Suguru groaned. “Don’t encourage him, Musa. The last time we ‘let him run wild,’ we ended up explaining to campus security why there were goats in the library.”

Shoko burst into laughter. “That was a good one. Admit it, though—you had fun.”

“I had a headache,” Suguru corrected, though his lips twitched into a small smile.

Musa grinned, enjoying the banter. Despite her nerves about sneaking around with Choso, being with Suguru and Shoko always felt like home.

As they approached Satoru’s house, the faint thump of music became audible even through the closed windows. The sprawling property was lit up with strings of orange and purple lights, fake spider webs covering the hedges, and carved pumpkins lining the walkway.

Suguru parked the car, and the three of them stepped out into the cool night air. Musa adjusted her dress, smoothing the fabric, while Shoko tucked a stray lock of hair back under her nun’s headpiece.

“Looks like we’re early,” Suguru said, scanning the driveway.

“Early?” Musa asked, raising an eyebrow. “There’s already a crowd inside.”

“That’s not a crowd,” Suguru replied dryly. “That’s the warm-up group.”

Shoko looped her arm through his. “Come on, Priest Geto. Let’s see what chaos awaits.”

As they walked toward the house, Musa hung back slightly, her heart pounding in anticipation. She knew Choso would be here—he’d promised. They’d already coordinated how to find each other without drawing Suguru’s attention.

They stepped into the house, greeted by the booming bass of the music and the chatter of partygoers. The air was warm and filled with the smell of cider and faint hints of sugary treats. Satoru, dressed in an over-the-top vampire costume complete with a dramatic cape and fake fangs, immediately appeared at the door.

“Welcome, welcome!” he exclaimed, throwing his arms wide. “My favorite trio has arrived!”

Suguru sighed. “Do you have to announce us like that?”

“Absolutely,” Satoru replied with a grin, his fangs gleaming. His eyes landed on Musa, and he raised an eyebrow. “Well, look at you. Pucca never looked so terrifyingly adorable.”

“Thanks, Dracula,” Musa quipped, her confidence returning.

Satoru laughed, turning his attention to Shoko. “And my favorite nun! Forgive me, Sister Shoko, for I have sinned.”

Shoko smirked. “Don’t worry. Your penance will be delivered later.”

As they moved further into the house, the energy of the party surrounded them. Suguru immediately gravitated toward the quieter corner where some of their mutual friends were lounging, while Shoko slipped away to grab drinks.

Musa scanned the room, her eyes searching for a familiar figure. Her heart skipped a beat when she spotted Choso leaning casually against the far wall, his Garu costume unmistakable with the red gloves, heart-emblazoned black shirt, and his signature pigtails.

Their eyes met briefly, and he gave her a small, knowing smile. Musa felt her cheeks heat up, but she quickly schooled her expression, focusing on maintaining her cover.

They found themselves gravitating toward one of the main living areas, where couches and beanbags were scattered around a large television. People were mingling, drinks in hand, and the buzz of conversation filled the space.

Suguru leaned against the armrest of a couch, his casual stance at odds with his priestly costume. Shoko handed him a drink—a dark, bubbling concoction Satoru had labeled “witch’s brew.” Musa declined when Shoko offered her one, opting to stay sharp and keep an eye on Suguru’s movements.

“Is it just me, or has Satoru outdone himself with the decorations this year?” Shoko asked, gesturing to the fake cobwebs and glow-in-the-dark skeletons that adorned the room.

Suguru snorted. “That’s what happens when he discovers Pinterest. He’s been sending me mood boards for weeks.”

Musa laughed, imagining her brother enduring Satoru’s hyper-enthusiasm. “I mean, it does look good. But did we really need the fog machine in the kitchen?”

“The better question,” Shoko interjected, “is whether we needed two fog machines in the kitchen.”

They all laughed, their voices blending with the surrounding chatter. For a moment, Musa felt a pang of guilt. Here she was, sneaking around behind her brother’s back, and yet these moments of normalcy with him and Shoko felt so comforting.

“You’ve been quiet tonight,” Suguru said, turning to Musa. “What’s on your mind?”

Musa blinked, caught off guard. “Oh, nothing. Just soaking it all in.”

He narrowed his eyes slightly but didn’t press. Instead, he took a sip of his drink and leaned back. “You know, it’s nice having you out like this. Feels like old times.”

Musa smiled softly. “Yeah, it does. I’ve missed it.”

Shoko tilted her head, watching them both. “We should do it more often. Minus the fog machines.”

“Agreed,” Suguru said with a chuckle. “Though I doubt Satoru would tone it down to something simple”

As if on cue, Satoru appeared, his dramatic vampire cape billowing behind him. “Are we talking about me?” he asked with a grin, sliding into the empty seat beside Shoko.

“Unfortunately,” Suguru deadpanned.

“Good,” Satoru said, ignoring the sarcasm. He looked at Musa. “You’ve been mingling, right? It’s not a party unless everyone knows you’re here.”

Musa raised an eyebrow. “I think your party is doing just fine without me making rounds.”

“Nonsense,” Satoru replied. “You’re the Geto Pucca. You’re obligated to make an impression.”

“She’s doing just fine blending in,” Suguru interjected. “Don’t make it weird.”

Satoru threw his hands up in mock surrender. “Fine, fine. But if you change your mind, the karaoke machine is in the den. You’re all welcome to serenade us later.”

“Please tell me it’s broken,” Shoko muttered, earning a laugh from Musa.

“It’s not!” Satoru declared, already heading toward his next victim.

Suguru shook his head, sipping his drink. “This party is going to get out of control.”

“Isn’t that the point?” Shoko teased.

Musa watched them, a sense of warmth settling in her chest. Even with her secret relationship lingering in the background, moments like this reminded her why she cared so much about keeping things peaceful. Suguru deserved his good mood, and Shoko was always the glue that kept their group lighthearted.

Still, her gaze drifted back to the far wall where Choso lingered. He was talking to someone now, but his eyes flicked toward her for the briefest moment. Her heart quickened.

She tore her eyes away, forcing herself to stay engaged in her brother’s conversation. After all, the night had only just begun.

Musa caught Shoko’s eye, it was a brief glance, but the small, knowing nod Shoko gave her was all she needed. Taking a steadying breath, Musa excused herself from the group and slipped through the crowd, weaving between costumed partygoers until she reached the quieter, less crowded side of the house.

Choso was already there, leaning casually against the wall, arms crossed. When he saw her approaching, a small smirk tugged at his lips.

“Was starting to think you wouldn’t show,” he teased, his voice low and smooth.

Musa rolled her eyes, though she couldn’t hide the grin spreading across her face. “Suguru was hovering. I had to wait for the right moment.”

“And let me guess,” Choso said, pushing off the wall to stand upright, “Shoko was the distraction?”

“She’s the best wingman I could ask for,” Musa replied, stepping closer. “You should really thank her.”

“Maybe I will,” Choso said, his smirk softening into something more sincere. His eyes flicked over her, taking in her Pucca-inspired dress. “You look amazing, by the way.”

Musa’s cheeks flushed. “You’ve already said that.”

“And I’ll keep saying it,” he shot back, the teasing edge returning to his voice.

Musa shook her head, laughing softly. “You’re impossible.”

“Impossible, huh?” Choso stepped closer, his tone playful. “Well, in that case, you’ll just have to dance with me to make up for it.”

She raised an eyebrow, pretending to consider. “Hmm, I don’t know. You don’t strike me as the dancing type.”

“Guess you’ll have to find out,” he said, offering his hand.

Musa hesitated for only a moment before slipping her hand into his. Choso led her back toward the main room, where the music was louder and the energy palpable. The dance floor was packed, but he found a spot in the middle of the crowd where they could blend in.

The music shifted to a bass-heavy beat, and Choso turned to face her, his hands settling naturally on her waist. “Ready?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” she replied, placing her hands on his shoulders.

They started to move, swaying to the rhythm of the music. At first, their movements were small, hesitant even, but as the song picked up, so did their confidence. Choso’s hands gripped her waist a little tighter, guiding her closer until there was barely any space between them.

Musa felt her heartbeat quicken—not from the music, but from the way Choso was looking at her. His dark eyes seemed to burn with an intensity that made her stomach flutter. She felt like everyone else in the room had disappeared, leaving just the two of them in their own little world.

“You’re not bad at this,” she said, her voice light despite the nervous flutter in her chest.

Choso chuckled, leaning in so she could hear him over the music. “Neither are you.”

Their movements became more in sync, a natural rhythm forming between them. Musa’s hands slid from his shoulders to his chest, her fingers brushing against the red heart on his shirt. Choso responded by pulling her even closer, his breath warm against her ear as he murmured, “You’re full of surprises tonight.”

Musa smiled, tilting her head up to meet his gaze. “So are you.”

The next song was slower, its sultry rhythm setting a different mood. Musa’s heart pounded as Choso’s hands moved to the small of her back, his touch firm but gentle. She let herself relax into him, her cheek brushing against his shoulder as they swayed to the beat.

For a moment, it was just them—the music, the closeness, the unspoken understanding passing between them.

When the song ended, Choso leaned down, his lips brushing against her ear. “Let’s get out of here.”

She nodded, her pulse quickening as he took her hand once more. Instead of leaving the house, Choso led her through the crowd and up the stairs to the quieter upper floor. The hum of the party below faded as they stepped into the dimly lit hallway, the noise muffled by the thick walls.

--------------------------------------------

Choso leaned against the wall, his smirk returning as he watched her. “You’re really good at sneaking away.”

“Years of practice ” Musa winked, leaning against the opposite wall.

“Lucky for me,” Choso said, stepping closer. His voice dropped lower, softer. “So, what now?”

Musa’s breath hitched as he closed the distance between them, one hand coming to rest against the wall beside her. His other hand brushed a stray strand of hair from her face, his touch lingering against her cheek.

“This,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Choso’s lips curved into a soft smile before he leaned in, capturing her lips in a kiss that was both gentle and electrifying. His hand slid to the back of her neck, pulling her closer as the kiss deepened.

Musa’s fingers tangled in the fabric of his shirt, her knees weak as the world around them seemed to disappear. She could feel the faint chill of his tongue piercing, adding an intoxicating edge to the softness of his lips.

When they finally broke apart, their foreheads rested together, both of them breathing heavily.

“You’re trouble, you know that?” Choso murmured, his voice filled with a mixture of amusement and affection.

Musa laughed softly, her hands still resting on his chest. “You’re not exactly innocent yourself.”

“Fair enough,” he said, his smirk widening.

The kiss between Musa and Choso lingered, the moment between them so sweet, so private, that they both almost forgot where they were. But just as their lips were about to meet again, they heard the unmistakable sound of footsteps echoing down the hallway.

Before either of them could react, the door at the far end of the hall creaked open, and there, standing in the doorway, was Satoru Gojo—his tall figure framed by the dim light of the hallway. His vampire costume, complete with a dark cloak and sharp fangs, made him look both intimidating and oddly regal.

Musa’s heart dropped into her stomach. “Satoru!” she gasped, pulling away from Choso in a panic.

Choso, equally shocked, quickly straightened, glancing nervously from Musa to Satoru, who stood there with his usual smirk, eyes twinkling with mischief.

“Guess I’m not the only one sneaking away from the party,” Satoru said, his voice dripping with amusement.

Musa immediately stepped in front of Choso, trying to block Satoru’s view, her face burning with embarrassment. “Satoru, please… Don’t tell Suguru,” she pleaded, her voice trembling with urgency.

Satoru raised an eyebrow, studying her with an expression that suggested he was weighing his options. “Musa,” he said, his tone turning serious, “you’re taking a pretty big risk sneaking off like this. You know Suguru could show up any time, right?” His gaze flickered to Choso, and a knowing smile curled on his lips. “And you two, well…” He shook his head, a slight chuckle escaping his throat. “You’re lucky I’m feeling generous tonight.”

Musa’s face was flushed with anxiety, her mind racing as she tried to figure out how to handle this. She knew that Satoru wasn’t the type to keep secrets for long, but something in his expression suggested he was giving her a chance.

“Please,” Musa said again, her voice softer now, pleading. “I can’t have Suguru finding out like this. I’ll tell him soon, I promise. Just don’t tell him yet.”

Satoru stared at her for a long moment, his lips still twitching with a mischievous grin. “I can’t exactly lie to my best friend,” he said, his tone softening slightly. “But... I guess I’ll keep my mouth shut for now.”

Musa exhaled in relief, her shoulders relaxing for the first time since Satoru appeared.

Satoru continued, his voice shifting to something more playful. “But you should tell him sooner rather than later, Musa. The longer you keep this a secret, the more awkward it’s gonna get. Trust me.” He gave her a teasing smile. “And don’t make me come up here again, okay? You’re making this whole thing way too fun.”

Musa nodded quickly, her face still flushed but thankful for his understanding. “Thank you, Satoru. I’ll tell him soon.”

Satoru's expression softened just a bit. “Now go back to Shoko and Suguru before they start wondering where you went. I’ll stay here and have a little chat with Choso.”

Musa’s eyes widened, but she nodded again, stepping toward the stairs. “Thanks again,” she muttered, her heart still racing as she made her way back to the party.

Once she was out of sight, Satoru’s smile faded, and he turned his full attention to Choso, who was still standing against the wall, arms crossed, clearly trying to figure out how to handle the situation.

“You and I need to talk,” Satoru said, his voice becoming more serious, his eyes narrowing slightly as he approached Choso. Choso’s eyes flicked to the door where Musa had just disappeared, then back to Satoru. “You’ve always got something to say,” he muttered, clearly uncomfortable under Satoru’s gaze.

“You're playing a dangerous game” Satoru began, his voice low but firm, “She’s Suguru’s sister, if he finds out you're messing with her ..actually he will find out then you'll be dead”

Choso remained silent, his jaw tense as he weighed Satoru’s words. Satoru wasn’t wrong—Suguru was a force to be reckoned with, and if he found out about this... well, it wouldn’t end well for anyone involved.

“I know,” Choso said quietly, running a hand through his hair. “But I’m not trying to make trouble. I really like her.”

Satoru’s eyes softened for a moment, though his smirk never fully left his face. “I can see that but you’ve got to think about the consequences, not just the fun.”

Choso nodded, though he still looked a little conflicted. “I’m not trying to hurt her. I just—it’s different this time, she's different. I don’t want to play with her, it's something I haven’t felt before" He paused, looking down for a moment.

Satoru raised an eyebrow, sensing the weight of Choso’s words. “You guys going to have to tell him soon. Suguru may be angry with you at first but he'll ease up eventually. ”

Choso gave a short, sharp nod. “I know.”

Satoru took a step back, his hands back in his pockets as he flashed a quick grin. “Well, I guess I’ll leave you to figure that out. Just... don’t cause too much chaos, alright?”

Choso watched as Satoru turned and made his way down the hall, back toward the party. He leaned against the wall, running a hand through his hair as he mulled over Satoru’s words.

Suguru will find out soon enough, he thought, the weight of the decision pressing on him. But for now, all he could think about was the way Musa looked at him when she asked him not to tell.

--------------------------------------------

Musa made her way back down to the party, feeling a little light-headed from the conversation with Satoru. As she walked toward the living room, she spotted Suguru and Shoko sitting on the couch, sipping on their drinks and laughing. Their conversation was lively, but when they saw her, their expressions softened.

"Hey, Musa," Shoko called out, a teasing smile on her lips. "You find your way to the bathroom okay?" she asked, her voice laced with a hint of amusement.

Musa smiled awkwardly, trying to shake off the tension from the hallway. "Yeah, all good. Just... needed a bit of air," she said, her voice sounding a little too forced.

Suguru noticed her discomfort and raised an eyebrow, though he didn't press the matter. "Well, you're back just in time," he said, holding up a beer. "We were about to play a round of beer pong. You want in?"

"Yeah, come join us," Shoko added, her grin widening. "It’s going to be girls versus boys, obviously."

Musa’s stomach twisted for a second as she remembered the recent encounter with Satoru.

Before she could answer, a familiar voice interrupted. "Don’t leave me out!" Satoru said, strolling over with his signature playful smirk.

Musa’s heart skipped a beat. She had just spent the last few minutes with him, awkwardly navigating their brief conversation. Now, here he was, joining the game like it was no big deal. She tried to hide her discomfort, but the way Satoru’s eyes briefly flicked toward her gave her away. He knew what had just happened between her and Choso, and that made everything a little more complicated.

"Great," Shoko laughed, rolling her eyes playfully. "The more, the merrier. Boys versus girls it is, then."

Musa managed a smile, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. "Sure, I’m in."

She sat down on one side of the table with Shoko, as Satoru and Suguru took the opposite side. The game quickly kicked off, and the atmosphere lightened as the cups were filled, the ping-pong balls bouncing from one side to the other.

Musa found herself gradually getting into the game, her earlier discomfort slipping away as she focused on the competition. Shoko was always an expert at beer pong, but Satoru and Suguru were no slouches either. There were a few good-natured jabs thrown back and forth between the two teams, with Satoru mocking her aim and Suguru pretending to be shocked every time she scored a point.

"Nice one, Musa!" Shoko cheered, laughing when Musa made a perfect shot, sending one of the balls into one of the cups.

Musa’s competitive side kicked in, and she playfully teased, "I don’t know, I think I’m carrying the team here."

Suguru smirked, leaning over to Satoru. "Don’t let them get ahead, or they’ll never let us hear the end of it."

As the game went on, Musa felt the tension between her and Satoru gradually lessen. His teasing comments weren’t about her being caught earlier, and she appreciated that. Instead, he was focused on the game, making the whole situation feel more normal again. Still, she couldn’t help but occasionally glance at Choso across the room, wondering what he was thinking and hoping their secret would remain safe, at least for tonight.

Eventually, the game ended in a close victory for the girls, with Shoko giving a dramatic cheer as they claimed their prize of a round of shots. Musa’s mood lightened as she laughed with her best friend, the unease from earlier nearly forgotten. She was starting to have fun, despite the chaos in her mind.

After the game, Satoru raised his hands in mock surrender. "Alright, alright, we lost fair and square. But just know, I’ll be getting you back next time, Musa."

Musa grinned, relieved that the tension between them seemed to have dissolved. "We’ll see about that," she teased back, as Shoko winked at her.

Musa felt more at ease now that the night had settled into a familiar rhythm,.

The night was winding down, and the atmosphere at the party was slowly settling into a more relaxed vibe. The sound of chatter and laughter echoed through the house, but at the beer pong table, it had become clear who the true champion was.

Shoko, ever the skilled drinker, had effortlessly outlasted Suguru in the drinking game, and now her best friend was slumped on the couch, looking a little worse for wear. Suguru’s face was flushed, and his movements were slow and sluggish. He'd been drinking a little too much, and it was starting to show.

Satoru, always the responsible one (when he wanted to be), had moved to help him. With a playful smirk, he slung Suguru’s arm over his shoulder and started guiding him toward the stairs.

"Guess I’ll be taking my best friend to my room for the night," Satoru said with a grin, glancing back at the girls. "You guys can crash here, or if you want, I can call an Uber to take you home."

Shoko, looking more than a little tipsy herself, gave Satoru a wave. "We’re good," she said, already making her way to the front door. "Call an Uber. No need to stay here, especially if Suguru’s going to be sleeping it off in your room."

Musa nodded, grateful that she wouldn't have to spend the night in the same house as her brother in his current state. She followed Shoko toward the door, her mind still slightly clouded.

Shoko stopped and turned to Musa with a sly smile. "You should call Choso," she said, her voice a little quieter now that they were alone.

Musa blinked, taken aback by the suggestion. "Are you sure?" she asked, her voice low and cautious, though a hint of excitement bubbled beneath the surface. "I don’t want to make it too obvious, you know?"

Shoko gave her a knowing look, a slight grin tugging at her lips. "Of course I’m sure. You’ve been sneaking around this whole time, and now is as good a time as any for you two to have a little more alone time. Besides, you’re not going to keep him waiting forever, right?"

Musa felt a wave of nerves and excitement wash over her. Shoko was right, of course. It had been a while since she and Choso had been able to spend any real time together, and tonight had been full of so many distractions. She took a deep breath, her heart racing a little.

"I guess you're right," Musa said, nodding with a small smile. "Okay, I’ll call him."

Shoko gave her a playful wink before continuing to walk "Good girl."

Musa pulled out her phone the call Choso letting him know they're leaving and to meet her outside.

As they stepped out of the house, she noticed Choso leaning against his car just across the street, his figure illuminated by the dim streetlight. His eyes lit up when he saw her, and he stood up straight with a casual smile, his hands in his pockets.

"Hey, there you are," Choso greeted her, his voice warm and inviting.

Musa smiled back, feeling a sense of relief wash over her at the sight of him. She was finally getting the time alone with him that she'd been craving, away from all the distractions and pressures of the night.

"Hey," she said softly, walking toward him.

Before she could say anything else, Shoko, who had been waiting by the side walk gave a playful wave to Choso. "You know, Choso," she called out, "you should take Musa home first. I’m good, the Uber’s almost here."

Choso turned to her with a raised eyebrow, offering a polite smile. "I could do that. But it’s no trouble, I can wait and—"

"No, no," Shoko interrupted with a dramatic wave of her hand, a mischievous grin on her face. "I’m fine. Go have fun, you two. I’ll be okay. The Uber will be here in a minute, and I’ll be home in no time."

Musa glanced between them, a little unsure. "Are you sure, Shoko?"

Shoko flashed her a wink and a teasing smile. "Absolutely. You two have a good time. Don’t keep him waiting, now."

Musa let out a small laugh, shaking her head. "Alright," she said, though a part of her was still a little nervous. "Thanks, Shoko."

Choso opened the passenger door. "Shall we, then?" he said in that low, teasing tone that made her heart flutter.

Musa nodded, a smile tugging at her lips as she slipped in the seat of the passenger side. "Let’s go."

Shoko gave them a final wave before climbing into the Uber that just arrived, leaving them with nothing but the cool night air and the promise of some much-needed time alone.

Once they were inside the car, Choso started the engine, the soft rumble of the car filling the space. The drive was quiet, but comfortable—neither of them feeling the need to fill the silence. Musa leaned back in her seat, her mind racing with everything that had happened tonight, from the Halloween party to the kiss they had shared earlier.

Choso glanced over at her, his expression softening. "You okay?" he asked, his voice gentle.

Musa met his gaze, a small smile tugging at her lips. "Yeah," she said, her voice quiet but sincere. "I’m good. Thanks for waiting outside for me."

Choso chuckled, a hint of mischief still in his eyes. "I wouldn’t have left without you. You know that."

Musa’s heart skipped a beat at his words. There was something about how he said it, how serious he sounded, that made her feel both a little lighter and more nervous all at once.

The drive continued with an easy, unspoken understanding between them. Musa wasn’t sure where they were headed exactly, but she was content to simply be in Choso’s presence, away from the chaos of the party and her family. Tonight was theirs, and for the first time in a while, she felt like she could breathe freely.

As the car came to a stop, parking into the driveway. Choso followed Musa to the front door, the quiet night only addig to the anticipation. Once inside, they both paused for a brief moment as the door clicked shut behind them, the stillness of the house amplifying the tension building in the air. Musa's heart was beating so loudly, she was sure Choso could hear it too.

She didn't say anything, with a glance at Choso she stepped closer, hands sliding up to his chest. Choso didn't hesitate - quickly closing the distance between the two, immediately leaned down to capture her lips. The kiss was slow at first but quickly became more urgent and hungry for desire. Musa’s hands roamed too his neck, pulling him impossibly closer as the intensity of the kiss deepened, igniting something in her that she couldn’t quite control. He licked her bottom lip, asking for entrance which was granted without hesitation. Their tongues fought for dominance and the little metal ball making Musa slowly lose her mind.

Choso’s hands moved to her waist, gripping gently but firmly as he slowly began leading her backwards. Neither of them broke the kiss, and soon, they were navigating through the dimly lit hallway toward her bedroom.

The air between them thick with tension, both of them knowing exactly where this is heading, yet neither of them in a hurry to rush it. Choso’s movements were deliberate, guiding her every step without breaking their connection, as if everything in the world outside of them had faded away. The moment their bodies brushed against the doorframe of her room, he leaned her against it briefly, his lips never leaving hers, before he gently nudged the door open with his foot.

--------------------------------------------

Once inside, Choso pulled back slightly, his eyes meeting hers with an intensity that made her stomach flutter. "You sure?" He asked, his voice low, almost a whisper.

Musa’s answer was immediate, her hands tugging at his shirt to pull him closer again "I'm sure" she breathed out.

And with that the kiss resuming, with renewed passion. Choso’s hands found the zipper on the back of her dress, slowly zipping it down and slipping it down her body ever so teasingly. He gently pushed her down on the bed, guiding her down onto the soft sheets as he hovered over her. His hands were carefully caressing her body, never rushing as if savoring every second of this moment with her.

Musa’s heart raced, hands moving to tangled in his hair. Every touch sending jolt of electricity through her, she couldn’t think of anything else but him.

She couldn’t help the small noises that left her lips, the moment getting more intense by the second. Her hand trembling slightly but filled with determination, found the hem of Choso’s shirt. She hesitated for only a moment before tugging gently, signaling for him to take it off. Choso noticed her movement and pulled back from their heated kiss, dark eyes locking with hers. Without a word, he grabbed the bottom of his shirt and pulled it over his head with one swift motion, tossing it to the side.

Her breath hitched as her eyes traveled over his toned chest and arms, the piercing on his tongue now matched by the faint glint of a small barbell on his nipples. Choso’s lips curved into a small, almost shy smile as he caught her staring. But when his gace dropped back to her, his breath catching in his throat.

Musa layed before him, her long black hair fanned out over the pillows, her baby blue eyes filled with a mixture of nervousness and desire. She was clad in delicate lingerie that hugged her figure perfectly, her skin glowing in the soft light of her room. The black lace contracted her beautifully against her complexion, and the knee high socks added a touch of innocence that only made her look even more enchanting.

Choso exhaled slowly, his voice low and filled with awe. "You’re perfect" his tone so sincere that it made Musa's cheeks flush even deeper.

Her gaze flickered away, "Don’t say thay" she mumbled, though the small smile tugging at her lips betrayed how much his words affected her.

Choso leaned down, cupping her cheek with one hand, his thumb brushing over her heated skin. " I mean it, you are perfect Musa, every single part of you"

Before she could respond, his lips where on her jaw, placing soft, lingering kisses along the curve. His free hand rested slightly on her waist, grounding her as he continued his tender exploration.

Musa let out a soft gasp when his lips trailed lower brushing against the sensitive skin of her neck. Choso paused for a moment, his warm breath fanning over her collarbone. He placed gentle kisses over it, careful not to leave any marks.

She couldn’t control the little moans escaping her lips, each sound making it harder for Choso to control himself.

He was treating her as if she were the most delicate thing he'd ever held, and yet there was an unspoken promise in the way his lips lingered against her skin - a promise that he wanted to worship her, to show her how much she ment to him.

Choso pulled back slightly, his forehead resting against hers as he looked into her eyes " Tell me if I'm going too fast, okay?" He whispered, voice filled with concern and affection.

Her hands finding his, fingers interlocking together. "Okay" her voice was soft, filled with trust and she leaned up to kiss him again, pulling him back into the moment.

Choso’s lips never left hers as his hands slid down her back, his fingers deftly finding the claps of her bra. With a soft flick , he unhooked it, the tension of the fabric realesing instantly. Musa froze for a moment, her breathing uneven, "Relax Princess" he softly whispered.

He pulled back slightly, his gaze locking with hers, giving her a chance to stop him if she wanted. When Musa didn't protest, he carefully slipped the straps of her bra off her shoulders, discarding the fabric to the side. His eyes roamed her body with a look of awe, his hands moving to gently cup her breasts.

"You’re beautiful," he murmured, his voice husky with admiration. His thumbs brushed over her sensitive peaks, and Musa gasped softly at the sensation.

He leaned down, his warm lips leaving soft kissed along her jaw, trailing lower until his pierced tounge flicked over her nipple. The cool touch of the metal sent a jolt through her, and she arched into him, one hand quickly flying to his hair and the other gripping the sheets below her.

"Choso..." she whispered, her voice barely audible, her body reacting to every flick and swirl of his tounge.

He took his time worshipping her with his hands and mouth, one tongue-twisting sensation after another building the heat between them that she could no longer ignore. Her thighs pressed together instinctively and she could feel the growing ache pooling low in her stomach.

Choso trailed his lips lower, kissing down her sternum and across her stomach, his movements slow. When he reached the waistband of her panties, he paused glancing up at her for permission. Musa nodded, her cheeks flushed and Choso smirked softly below pressing a gentle kiss just above her belly button.

Hooking his fingers into the side of her panties, he began to slowly, ever so teasingly pull them down. He loved how she squirmed under his touch, his eyes fixed on her face, to capture every reaction. Once the fabric slid down her legs, joining the pile of clothes on the side, Choso slightly leaned back to admire the view.

"You're perfect" he said softly

Before Musa couldd respond, Choso grabbed her legs, gently placing them on each side of his shoulders. He pressed a kiss inside her thigh, then another and another, inching closer to her core. Musa’s breath hitched as he finally dipped his head, lips brushing over her folds in the lightest touches.

Small noises of pleasure escaped her lips, and Choso groaned quietly against her skin, the sound vibrating through her.

When his tongue made contact, she gasped, hand flying to his hair. He started slow, his pierced tongue exploring her carefully.

"Choso, you're teasing..." she moaned, her voice high and breathless, hip bucking involuntarily.

"Patience princess, I want to enjoy every second"

His hands gripped her thighs firmly, holding her in place as his tongue delved deeper, alternating between long, languidly strokes and and precise flicks over her most sensitive spot.

Her body grew hotter with every movement of his tongue, her moans getting louder. She couldn’t think nor speak, only feel as Choso worked her over with a skill that left her trembling beneath him.

"God, you taste so good" he murmured against her, voice muffled.

She gripped the sheets tightly, her knuckle turning white while her other hand slightly tugging at his hair.

He shifted, angling his tongue just right while one of his hand slipped between her legs, teasing her entrance with a single finger. The combination of sensations was overwhelming and Musa’s back arched into his touch, her cries becoming more frantic.

Hearing her like this only encouraged him more.

"You're close aren't you?" He smirked

" Let go for me Musa, I want to feel you come on my tongue."

His voice was enough to send her over the edge, body tensing as the pleasure washed over her. Choso didn't let up, his tongue continuing it's ministrations to draw out every last tremor of pleasure until she was left panting and trembling beneath him.

When she finally relaxed, he pressed gentle kisses along her thighs before lifting his head, his lips glistening as he looked up at her. Musa couldn’t form words ,her body still tingling from the aftershock. She watched with hooded eyes as Choso stood and began to undress. Her eyes flowing his movements, glued to his body, down to his happy trail ever so slowly. When he slid his pants and boxers off, leaving him bare Musa’s eyes widened. God he's huge.

He leaned over her again, hand brushing her cheeks as his gaze locked with hers, "Are you sure?" he asked softly.

" I trust you"

"It might hurt a little at first, but if you want to stop at any point, just tell me."

Musa nodded and smiled nervously. His eyes flicked down to her knee high sock, a smirk tugging at his lips.

" I'm leaving these on, way too sexy to take it off of you."

Musa let out a nervous laugh, her face heating up even more.

Choso kissed her softly, his body settling between her legs as he slowly positioned himself. He interlocked his fingers with hers by her hand, as she lightly squizzed it signaling she's ready.

His other hand gripping her waist as he slowly inched himself inside of her warmth, allowing her to adjust to the unfamiliar sensation.

Musa gasped, her body tensing as she felt him strech her. Choso immediately paused, forehead resting against hers.

"You're doing so well," he whispered softly " Just breathe for me princess"

Her breathing slowed, giving a small nod, encouraging him to continue. Choso pushed further, bottoming her, he stilled, his own breath ragged as he fought to control himself.

"You okay?" He asked softly, his dark eyes searching hers for any sign of discomfort.

Musa opened her hooded eyes, small smile playing on her lips despite the painful strech.

"I'm okay"

Choso kissed her forehead tenderly as he pulled back just enough to set a slow rhythm. His thrusts were deep and measured, his focus entirely on her and how she responded. He wanted to know every inch of her.

Musa couldn’t control the soft moans that left her lips as the initial discomfort faded, replaced by a building pressure that had her gripping Choso’s shoulders.

"Cho..." his name leaving her lips like prayers.

"God, I love it when you call me that"

His pace getting faster, sinking deeper inside of her, drawing moans after moans out of her and each getting louder.

The room filled with the sound of their bodies moving together, their shared breath fogging the room.

Her soft cries of pleasure, the way her body arched to meet his every move to meet his thrusts almost drove him to edge, but he held back to savor this moment with her.

"Cho it feels...ah...s-so good,"

He groaned low, lips vibrating against her neck as he pressed kisses against it. Her legs wrapping around his waist to pull him closer, bodies melting into each other as she was getting close. He noticed how her body's reacting, clenching down onto him, her moans getting louder, he new she was close and so was he.

"Let go princess, I got you"

His words encouraged her as she reached her climax, she cried out his name. Her body trembled, her walls tightening around him making him cum in an instant. He held her close, his arms wrapping around her as he rode out his high, breath ragged and uneven. The two of them layed intertwined, their body still trembling from the aftershock. "You’re amazing" pressed a gentle kiss on her cheeks.

Choso gently brushed a strand of Musa’s hair out of her flushed face, his thumb softly tracing her cheek. “Stay here,” he sat up and grabbed his discarded boxers.

Musa watched him with a tired but content smile, her heart fluttering at how thoughtful he was. He slipped on his boxer and disappeared into the bathroom, returning moments later with a warm, damp cloth.

“This might be a little cold,” he said softly, sitting beside her and carefully wiping her down, his movements tender and deliberate. Musa’s cheeks flushed, but she didn’t shy away, appreciating his gentleness.

“Thank you,” she whispered, her voice soft and a little shy.

Choso offered her a small smile. “You don’t have to thank me,” he replied, his tone warm. After ensuring she was comfortable, he discarded the cloth and helped her pull on a loose shirt she’d grabbed from the edge of her bed.

Once she was settled, Choso slid under the covers beside her, pulling her close. Musa nestled against his chest, her head resting over his heart as she listened to its steady rhythm. His arms wrapped securely around her, one hand gently running up and down her back in soothing strokes.

“Comfortable?” he asked, his voice a quiet rumble in the dimly lit room.

“Very,” Musa mumbled sleepily, her fingers absentmindedly tracing patterns on his chest. “You’re really warm.”

Choso chuckled, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “Good,” he murmured. “You deserve to feel safe and cared for.”

Musa tilted her head up to look at him, her baby blue eyes meeting his soft gaze. “I do with you,” she said honestly, her voice barely above a whisper.

Choso’s heart swelled at her words, and he leaned down to press a gentle kiss to her lips before pulling her even closer. “Get some sleep, Musa,” he said softly. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Within minutes, Musa’s breathing evened out, and she drifted off to sleep, her body relaxed in his embrace. Choso watched her for a while, marveling at how peaceful she looked, before closing his eyes and letting himself be lulled into sleep, the warmth of her presence grounding him.

The night passed quietly, the two of them lost in their own little world, safe and content in each other’s arms.

[bi-writes]

just his girl being so attracted to simon and him not understanding it. (18+)

i mean like...he's never had a girlfriend like this. he's never even had a girlfriend, period, not really, not anyone he's seen more than once, not one that he's known long enough to remember her name.

he just doesn't get it. whenever he comes into your vicinity, he can see the sparkle in your eyes. the smile that graces your face, the way your expression lights up, the way your body moves on its own just to get closer to him.

he wonders if he lets you because of the sick satisfaction he feels. to be the center of your attention, it makes him feel so fucking special, so important. another man can look at you the same way, but he knows your cunt will be dry. but when he looks at you that way, he can see the way your legs squeeze together, and he loves knowing that if he flipped up the hem of your skirt, you'd be so sticky and practically drooling there, all for him.

he doesn't think himself very attractive. he's had his fair share of one night stands, but the way you keen for him makes him so hungry. he loves hearing you whine when he grabs your ass, loves feeling you drip onto his fingers when he kisses you after a long day, loves the way that nothing else will ever make you smile the way he can when he touches your face.

"i love you so much," you whisper, and he has to look away or else he'll groan.

"i missed you," you whimper after he's been away for a long time, and he has to bite back the tremble in his lip because fuck, he missed you, too.

"you're so big, baby," you whine, and he can't help the way he chubs up immediately as you feel up his thick biceps, along his pecs, over the warm layer of fat around his solid middle. you can cum so fast just riding his big thigh, hell--you can cum by yourself just looking at him. he's so hot to you, so handsome, even if he doesn't take his mask off or any of his clothes, because you love him so much, and his eyes are sometimes all you need to feel enough. and fuck if that isn't the biggest ego boost, seeing his girl's pussy creaming just by fixating on the flex of his big hand.

his confidence is so puffed whenever he's around you. he gets goosebumps whenever your eyes are on him. even now, it's been years with you, and you still make him feel like the hottest guy in the room with the way your eyes look him up and down.

you're his perfect girl. his best prize. he doesn't understand how he ever got you, how he ever reeled you in, but there isn't a day that goes by that he doesn't understand how undeserving he is of you and how incredibly lucky he is. it makes him selfish. he has you, and he can't lose you, so fuck how he has to keep you, cause he will. and he thinks you like that, too.

he thinks you like the way he fondles you under your skirt in a crowded place. he thinks you like the way he fucks, deep thrusts as he grips your face and murmurs mine, mine, mine between low groans and fingerprint bruises. he thinks you like the way he hovers, glaring at anyone that looks your way and devouring you in a grocery store parking lot because the cashier at the till looked at your legs for just a second too long, and need ta remind ya who ya belong to, pet.

you were wet anyways, he had worn short sleeves that day, and your eyes hadn't left his tattoo sleeve since he came out of the shower. so wet, ruining those panties, his favorite little black pair with the skull print pattern along the band.

dripping, creamy, pulsing little cunt that is all his. hadn't so much as even touched you yet, and here you are, drooling so sweet. he just didn't want to waste the meal.

[littlelamy]

clingy with rafe

rafe would never call himself clingy. clingy was for guys who didn’t have their shit together or needed constant reassurance. but with you, it wasn’t insecurity—it was something else entirely.

he wasn’t sure when it started, but the second you walked into a room, it was like his body moved on its own. at toppers’ parties, his hand found yours before you even said hi to anyone. you were his grounding force in the chaos, and he wasn’t about to let you slip away.

“stick with me,” he muttered, fingers laced tightly with yours. his voice was low, the kind of tone that was more of a command than a suggestion. you weren’t complaining—his hand was warm and steady, making you feel more at ease in the wild, drunken crowd.

“i thought this was supposed to be a chill thing,” you teased, trying to match his long strides as he led you through the sea of bodies. your tone was light, but you couldn’t help smirking at the way he scanned the room like a hawk. he always had that protective edge, though he’d never admit it outright.

“yeah, well, topper’s definition of ‘chill’ is breaking every piece of furniture in the house,” rafe said, rolling his eyes. his thumb brushed over the back of your hand like it was second nature. “where the fuck is topp, anyway?”

you shrugged, barely holding back a laugh as you glanced around the room. “you’re asking me? i thought you were keeping track of him.” his jaw ticked slightly, but his focus never wavered from you for long.

when someone brushed past you a little too closely, rafe’s grip on your hand tightened. his shoulders tensed, and he pulled you into his side without missing a beat. “you good, princess?” he asked, his voice dropping in that way that made your stomach flutter.

“i’m fine, rafe,” you said, rolling your eyes but feeling secretly pleased at how much he cared. it wasn’t like the guy bumped into you on purpose, but rafe wasn’t about to let it slide. “you’ve asked me that, like, five times tonight.”

“yeah, well, just making sure,” he shot back, his lips twitching into a grin that didn’t quite mask his protective streak. he glanced down at you, eyes scanning your face as if checking for any hint of discomfort. “can’t have anyone messing with my girl, right?”

later, when the two of you found an empty spot on the couch, rafe was already pulling you down next to him. “sit,” he ordered, his voice taking on that familiar commanding edge.

you raised an eyebrow but didn’t protest, sinking into his lap with a sigh. before you could even get comfortable, his hands were sliding over your legs, his fingers brushing gently over your skin.

“rafe,” you said, leaning back against him as his hands roamed, moving up to your thighs and rubbing slow circles over the soft fabric of your dress.

“relax, princess,” he murmured in your ear, his voice low and almost playful as he traced his fingertips along your legs. “you’re too tense.”

you shot him a look, feeling the heat of his hands on your skin, but despite your attempt to act nonchalant, you couldn’t stop the warmth flooding your chest. “you’re impossible,” you muttered, but didn’t move away.

“nah,” he whispered with a smirk, fingers continuing their teasing path along your legs. “i just know how to get you to relax.”

later, when you nudged him and told him you needed to use the bathroom, his reaction was immediate. “cool, i’ll come with you,” he said, like it was the most normal thing in the world. you stopped mid-step, looking at him like he’d grown another head.

“rafe, i’m not gonna get lost. it’s the bathroom,” you said, already exasperated. his expression didn’t budge, that familiar mix of confidence and stubbornness plastered across his face. “you don’t need to come with me.”

“it’s not about you getting lost, princess,” he said, smirking in a way that made your pulse quicken. the nickname rolled off his tongue effortlessly, like he’d been calling you that forever. “just making sure no one tries anything while you’re gone.”

“so, what? you’re gonna stand outside the door like a security guard?” you asked, crossing your arms in challenge. his grin widened, the mischievous glint in his eyes telling you he had other plans. “you’re unbelievable, rafe.”

“not standing outside, babe,” he said with a wink, already following you toward the tiny bathroom. you gaped at him, half-annoyed and half-amused, as he casually shut the door behind you. “i’m coming in with you.”

“rafe!” you hissed, your voice barely above a whisper as you gestured around the cramped space. his nonchalant demeanor made it even more infuriating, like this was the most logical thing he could’ve done. “you can’t just—this is weird!”

“what’s weird about it?” he asked, leaning against the door with his arms crossed. his gaze was steady, like he genuinely couldn’t understand your objection. “not like i haven’t seen you before, princess.”

your cheeks flushed at his comment, and you smacked his arm lightly in protest. “rafe cameron, you’re impossible,” you muttered, turning toward the toilet with a defeated sigh. “at least turn around or something.”

“fine, fine,” he said, laughing as he spun to face the door, his shoulders shaking slightly. his smugness was practically radiating off him, and you knew he was enjoying every second of this. “just say the word if you need me, babe.”

when you were done and washing your hands, he turned back around without missing a beat. his eyes softened as they landed on you, his usual teasing replaced with something gentler. “you okay?” he asked, his voice quieter now.

“i’m fine, rafe,” you said, shaking your head with a small smile. his concern, as ridiculous as it was sometimes, always managed to make your heart ache in the best way. “but you’re never living this down.”

“don’t care,” he said, stepping closer and wrapping his arms around your waist. his lips brushed against your temple, his hold on you firm and steady. “you’re stuck with me, princess.”

and honestly? you didn’t mind one bit.

taglist: @namelesslosers @princessslutt @averyoceanblvd @iknowdatsrightbih @starkeysprincess @sixrosberg @anamiad00msday @ivysprophecy @wearemadeofstardust0 @kissrotten @rafesangelita @sstargirln @rafedaddy01 @soldesole @bakugouswaif @skywalker0809 @vanessa-rafesgirl @evermorx89 @aariahnaa @outerhills @ditzyzombiesblog

[izvmimi]

Katsuki handles you extremely gently for the most part, which is why when you find yourself at the tail end of play-wrestling in the midday on Saturday, wrists bound together in a firm, one-handed grasp and a leg locked against him at the hip, you’re a bit surprised. Your lips form into a soft ‘o’ as you let out a pant; conversely, his breathing is still, having not exerted very much effort, but you can practically feel his heart pound in his chest.

Or possibly it’s wishful thinking, given the way your own heart races.

Katsuki pauses for a moment, then dips in close, kissing your forehead.

“Had enough?” he asks.

“What if I said no?” you quip. In reply, his face buries in the crook of your neck and he snorts softly.

“Why don’t we make love, not war?” 

You’d admonish him on the cheesiness of the statement, but you don’t have the energy to. By now, Katsuki has relaxed his hold on your wrists and your leg, but you let your thighs and calves find new positioning wrapped around his waist as he lowers his weight onto you. He’s heavy, but it’s a familiar, comfortable heaviness that keeps you warm.

“Don’t like roughhousing with you,” he murmurs softly, still unmoving. Your bodies breathe in and out together, and you let yourself hold him even closer, hooking your left arm around his neck gently and running your right through his hair. 

Perhaps somewhere this is another form of a wrestling lock, but you’re decidedly loving, letting fingers trace between the blonde spikes to scratch his scalp.

Katsuki appreciates your softness just as much as your feistiness at times, and perhaps the former he needs a little more at this time.

You lay together for a moment, remembering when you sparred for real once years ago while at UA, and how quickly he folded.

Perhaps you cheated, you think as you conjure up the memory.

…

Paired together for sparring despite your friends’ apprehensive looks, you take up the challenge gladly. Light on your feet, the two of you move in concert towards and away from each other quickly as you trade blows - a narrow dodge of a punch with a sidestep. You grab his hand, and Katsuki’s surprise emboldens you as you plant your foot firmly on the ground and use your momentum to throw him over your shoulder.

Collective gasps abound from your watching classmates as Katsuki hits the ground, hard. You smile once he’s quick to jump back to his feet, wider still as he grumbles out loud.

“You’re so goddamn sneaky.”

He resumes a fighting stance. The ring is relatively small, a chalky circle about 8 bodies in diameter, but he still hasn’t fallen out of bounds. Red-faced, he’s lunged at you again (Izuku in the crowd comments that he must be more upset that he can’t use his quirk than the fight itself) and you sidestep him once more before tripping him. He loses his balance just for a moment, but jumps back into a back handstand then rights himself. 

He does look like he’s getting his ass kicked, but your friend heckles him first with the truth.

“He’s blinded by love, go easy on him!”

Aizawa shoots her a disapproving look, and your cheeks warm, but you don’t let yourself get distracted. You won’t know how right she is until later, anyway.

Time elapses - you block another heavy roundhouse kick that causes you to skid but you stay standing as you brace for impact, your heels digging into soft ground.

“I told you I won’t ever go easy on you,” Katsuki hisses. 

He follows this up with a leg sweep that has you tumble over him, and you somersault to regain control, but Katsuki has your leg by the ankle, pulling until you dangle for a moment, but you land a punch straight into his gut despite your upside down position.

Your friend screams again to ‘get his ass!’ amongst your classmates and gets another look from Aizawa. 

But Katsuki has let go with the force of the shock and you shoot backwards and prepare for an axe kick. He blocks, but for a split second he loses his resolve - the look on your face is fierce, and he remembers exactly why he has a crush on you.

The two of you jump back and separate to the opposite sides of the ring.

“If you don’t get serious, you’ll lose,” you tease.

“I’m going easy on you,” he finally claims, gruffly.

“You literally said otherwise 15 seconds ago.”

An ooooooo runs through the crowd that makes him scowl, and he takes off again with another lunge. You block, a move that makes Shoto shake his head at the bad choice, and you skid backwards from the sheer power behind the punch, making it almost closer to the borders of the ring. The subsequent onslaught is hard and you’re about to make it out of bounds.

Until you try a desperate move.

Leaning forward suddenly as if you were to kiss him, red blooms on his face, and he immediately backs off.

Izuku cups his face in his palms.

A leapfrog jump over him and a slight push, and he’s out of the ring, having fallen flat on his ass.

Denki, Sero and Kirishima don’t let him live it down for hours.

…

You definitely did cheat.

And perhaps in a way you are now, because he’s putty in your hands as he melts into you. 

But you’re no longer fighting, whether playful or not - teeth, tongue, lips don’t clash but rather dance and glide together; fingers and palms caress and worship each other in your joint embrace.

No power struggle between you two to be found anywhere - if anything perhaps in a way, you’ve always had the upper hand, being fully adored by him.

Regardless of how much stronger he is than you, whether it is in physical ability or will or resolve, he’d still very easily and consistently succumb to your love.

[delirious-donna]

tw: kento x female reader, breeding, kitchen sex (because when is that not hot?), kento speaking his mind (yeah it’s filthy 🫦)

Kento found you in the kitchen, guided to you by the sweet lilt of the tune you were absently humming. He loosened the knot of his tie and rolled the sleeves of his dress shirt to his elbows, exposing the corded muscles in his forearms.

Everything was right with the world once he had returned to your warm presence. Nothing could sour his mood now that he was home, and he watched from the doorway as you prepared cookies for baking, leaning against the frame with arms crossed and his cock twitching to life.

It was amazing how the tiredness, that only moments ago had pressed against his eyes, lifted as he admired your figure. The summer dress that showed off the plush of your thighs and thin straps that would be far too easy to push down to reveal your beautiful breasts.

You really were perfect for him. Nanami knew you would be a wonderful mother, but that thought startled him as he had not thought himself ready for such responsibility—not yet.

… but maybe?

How could he deny the pleasure thrumming through his body when he thought of you round with his child? His cock strained painfully against his expensive tailored trousers and a sudden tightness forced his balls to draw up, ready and aching.

It only took three strides and he was behind you. You startled with a high-pitched yelp at his unexpectedly sudden presence, jumping in the heat of his body as he crowded you against the counter without uttering a single word. His strong capable hands made hasty work of pressing beneath your dress to find the waist of your underwear, tugging them down until they pooled around your bare feet on the floor.

“Kento!” you giggled, slapping playfully at his hands, but he was not to be dissuaded and you weren’t really putting up any resistance. There was an urgency that surrounded him—thick and consuming. The air seemed to ripple with tiny vibrations that had not been there moments earlier and you eased into the sensations like sinking into a perfectly hot bath.

His strong forearms flexed as he pawed and massaged your breasts through the thin material of your dress, pinching at your budding nipples until you were fervently grinding against his prominent erection.

You barely had time to draw breath as the sound of his belt being unbuckled was followed by the drag of metal teeth being eased apart. Kento’s cologne enveloped your senses, the familiar warm notes tickling your nose and had you reaching back a hand to thread your fingers through his perfectly parted hair. Your toes curl against the tiled floor, expectation bubbling low and hot in your belly.

“I’m a lucky man,” he murmured into the soft curve of your neck. His lips left wet spots in a pattern only known to him, sucking marks that he would later finger and examine with that faint little smile that never failed to make your heart stutter in your chest.

“Then I’m a lucky woman,” you countered, ending on a gasp when the straps of your dress eased off your shoulders and fell to your elbows.

Kento hummed. His brain couldn’t stop conjuring the image of you growing with his seed, of the glow that would accompany such a venture and the flutter of kicks he would feel when laying his palms over your stomach. You stilled; the gears in your head whirring when he touched your belly and his hips rutted forward to saw the thick impression of his cock through the cleft of your backside.

“Spread your legs for me, sweetheart. That’s it… good girl.”

The skirt of your dress lifted to reveal your bare behind, forcing you to brace a hand atop the counter and you twisted your head to watch as he pulled the weight of his cock free from his underwear, purple and leaking fat pearls of precum. Your mouth watered, jaw falling slack when his fingers trailed the length of your slit, thumb rubbing gentle circles atop your throbbing clit. Kento pumped his impressive length, once twice, but he was more than ready to be accepted by your body.

The height difference made it a little awkward but Kento was a man on a mission, widening his stance and bending his knees until he notched at the flexing entrance of your cunt and pushed in on a grunt of exaltation. A shudder rippled down his spine, his teeth set whilst he fought the primal urge to let go immediately. He was wound nearly to breaking point with the need to pump his load into you and keep it there, but the fraying strands of his manners persisted.

Your toes barely touched the floor as he forced you to bend against the counter, your face right next to the sheet of cookies you had been ready to bake. The stretch of his girth made you hiss and writhe like a snake but he held you firm until he could bottom out and soothe the burning need you both felt.

Kento was still, his chest heaved as he fought down the urge to pound you stupid until your cunt was drooling on the floor and saliva pooled from your mouth.

“I think it’s about time I bred this sweet little pussy. Don’t you think, sweetheart?”

“Kento!”

He threw back his head; the rhythmic clench of your velvet walls betraying the shock of your voice. He smiled into your hair, kneading the fat of your breasts with rough hands and pistoned his hips harder and faster.

“Mm, I thought so. Let’s see how many loads you can take tonight. Then we can start all over again in the morning…”

[misswynters]

Headcanons: Sevika as your partner

Sevika as your lovely partner (lesbian wife)

warnings: nsfw themes below the banner, fluff

She will 100% be loyal to only you and take care of you.

Sevika has a soft side that she only shows around you. She’ll deny it if anyone else mentions it, but you catch her looking at you with a gentle, almost protective gaze. She’s not always good with words, but her actions (ex. making sure you’re comfortable) speak louder.

Sevika’s naturally protective and will go out of her way to take care of you in small, endearing ways. She’ll remind you to drink water, make sure you’re eating enough, and will even get a bit grumpy if you neglect yourself.

Behind closed doors, Sevika loves it when you lean into her or snuggle up on her shoulder. She’ll casually drape an arm around you while watching something together, or pull you onto her lap when you’re alone. The moment anyone else is around, though, she’s back to her gruff self.

After a long day, Sevika loves just lying in bed with you, talking about anything and everything. She rarely opens up, but at night, she’s more vulnerable and lets you in on her thoughts and memories of growing up in the Undercity. Those quiet moments are when she’s the softest and most open.

Sevika has learned a few recipes over the years and will occasionally surprise you by cooking a simple but delicious meal. She loves watching your face light up when you taste her food, and even though she’d act nonchalant, it clearly makes her happy to see you appreciate her cooking.

Sevika has a secret stash of pet names just for you, like “sweetheart” or “love.” Her voice goes a little softer when she calls you by them, and she usually tries to keep them reserved for quiet, intimate moments. But you’ve caught her murmuring them under her breath more often than she realizes.

She tries to keep up her tough exterior, but sometimes you catch her doing little things like gently brushing a stray hair from your face or adjusting your clothes to keep you warm. When you point it out, she just grunts and tries to change the subject, but it’s clear she’s letting her guard down with you.

Sevika gives you these soft, almost awed looks when she thinks you’re not paying attention. It’s as if she can’t believe someone as sweet and kind as you has a place in her life, and she’s quietly grateful for it.

Sevika knows how to take charge, and she’s not shy about it. Whether she’s guiding you with a firm hand or whispering orders into your ear, she makes it clear that she’s in control. She loves seeing you respond to her authority and takes pride in knowing you trust her to lead.

She doesn’t flaunt it, but Sevika can be a little possessive. She’ll wrap an arm around you in crowded places, keeping others at bay with a glare. When she’s with you, she makes sure everyone knows you’re hers without saying a word. There’s something reassuring and thrilling about her subtle displays of ownership.

Sevika exudes a quiet confidence that makes you feel safe and wanted. She’s incredibly attentive, learning every little thing that makes you melt and using it to her advantage. She’s slow and thorough, making sure you feel every touch, every kiss, knowing exactly how to leave you breathless.

Sevika loves taking her time. She knows exactly how to make you flustered with lingering touches and meaningful glances, enjoying every little reaction. Whether it’s a hand on your lower back or a low whisper in your ear, she’s a master of the slow burn, watching your anticipation build until you’re practically begging for her attention.

Her voice drops an octave when she’s in a dominant mood, each word wrapped in a tone that sends shivers down your spine. She knows the effect it has on you, and she’ll use it to her advantage, murmuring softly but firmly as she takes her time with you, savoring every moment.

Sevika may be strong and powerful, but she’s also incredibly careful with you. She holds you with a gentle firmness that makes you feel secure, as if she could shield you from the world. Her hands move with precision, every touch deliberate, giving you the perfect balance between strength and tenderness.

Sevika is unafraid to give you all her attention. She watches your reactions as you take her, focusing on what you need, and isn’t satisfied until she’s sure she’s left you thoroughly happy and exhausted. It’s an intense, almost possessive attention that makes you feel cherished and adored in a way that leaves you craving her touch.

Oh! also she has a playful side to her dominance, often teasing you just to see how much you’ll blush or squirm. She loves making you flustered with a smirk, reveling in the way you react to her touch or voice. It’s her way of showing her affection and keeping things light-hearted even when she’s completely in control.

Like in my previous writing, she’s into biting! it don’t matter where you bite her. on her shoulder, hand, etc. SHE WILL ENJOY IT!! (trust me!)

Her favorite positions (with strap) would be the mating press and missionary. If it’s a quickie then i’d say standing up. AND 69. can’t forget about that. She be eating you out more than you would. Absolutely wild

Using a hexcore strap whenever she wants to, though there could be an occasional switch where she would ask you to use it on her. Especially when she’s feeling lazy.

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