#what if they had someone to pay attention to them?

[proneterror204]

Vampire Cass!

Stupid Fruitloop and his stupid schemes! Right on Danny's class trip to Wayne Enterprises in Gotham, Vlad tested his Plasmius Maximus 2.0. Effectively taking away all of his Ghost powers for the whole day. In Gotham! He looks enough like a Wayne kid! He swears he already feels watched from the shadows.

Cass was restless. There was something in Gotham that was driving her instincts crazy. She already had her special smoothie from Alfred to curve her cravings, but there was something in town she needed to sink her teeth into. She needs to find it.

He's lost. Of course he's lost. just his luck he gets separated from his class and lost. Stupid Dash pushed him right into a dark alley! This is Gotham! He was literally almost mugged! Sam and Tucker weren't gonna answering his texts. Mr.Lancer had taken their phones because of Tuckers tech addiction being a distraction. "Not paying attention in Gotham could lead to disaster." How about being in trouble and needing to call for help? Great! now he's lost in an alley and... Someone was right behind him weren't they?

Cass was on the boy in an instant. He had good fighting instincts, but not good enough. She ducked under the punch he threw and grabbed his wrist. He used the other arm to block, she grabbed that wrist to and pinned both arms over his head and held them there with one arm. He then rammed his knee into her gut, but wasn't nearly strong enough to stop her. She grabbed the leg by the outer thigh and lifted it up moving closer into the boy. Putting her leg in-between his and leaning forward into his neck to drink.

Danny had no idea what was going on! He was standing on one leg, pinned against a wall, arms held above his head, and a woman was biting his neck. A sharp sting on his neck made him whine. He couldn't think straight and was starting to feel dizzy. The woman on him let out a sensual moan and he felt himself drift into unconsciousness. "whelp, second times the charm" Danny thought as he drifted away.

This boy tasted so good! He was like nothing she had ever tasted before! There was something foreign and exotic in his blood. When she had bitten him he gave out this little whine that was SO attractive, She had involuntarily moaned into him. She was enjoying every moment of this. The way he felt, tasted, smelled, the way he... He was unconscious! OH No! Too much! She needed to pull out now!

Danny woke up in his hotel room for the school trip. He still had his clothes on- Nope never mind! This was not his shirt! His favorite white shirt with the red oval was gone and now he was wearing a black shirt with one of the bat symbols on it. And his neck hurt!

"Cass where did you get that shirt?" Tim was sneaking into the kitchen, trying to get another cup of coffee. Where he found his sister in a obviously well-worn white and red shirt that he had never seen before. It clearly wasn't Cass's, though he knew she was a clothes thieve. She only gave him a smug look and said "mine".

Danny has no idea what happened in Gotham or how he got this mark on his neck. But he knows Vlad won't stop staring at it and won't come within 10 feet of him. He literally used it to case Vlad out of his house and down the street. It was hilarious! Maybe he should go back to Gotham and try to find out what happened.

[ellecdc]

oh my god. I love your slytherin reader x marauders!!!! your writing is amazing!!!! could you do like a part three I guess? but like of later in their relationship and the reader has this little first year friend (who she is forced to tutor but she actually likes him but won't admit it) and he reminds her of the boys and the boy just like brings her flowers and chocolates and stuff and the boys see it and James gets all jealous and Sirius is just like "nah just watch mate" and expect the reader to get all annoyed but she doesn't she just doesn't say anything (because she secretly finds the boy sweet and doesn't wanna be mean to the tiny marauder like man) so then they are all in disbelief and pouty

sorry that was very long

hehe...hehehe.....this request is from March 14th 🫢 thank youuuuu for the prompt and sorry for the huge wait..... [also, let this perhaps let people know that I do have old requests saved!]

poly!marauders x fiesty!reader who has an admirer [1.2k words]

p1 // p2 // p3

CW: fem!reader, reader is feisty, Sirius is upset she's not feistier

“I’m not sure if you boys were aware,” Marlene drawled as she plopped herself onto an empty wingback chair in the Gryffindor common room, “but there’s some ickle little first year making moves on your girl.”

Her comment was met by a snort from James, a bark of laughter from Sirius, and an eye roll from Remus. 

“Thoughts and prayers to the first year, then.” James commented, never looking up from the rubik’s cube he was fiddling with as his back rested against Sirius’ folded legs. 

“I don’t know.” Marlene sing-songed. “He seems pretty sweet on her.” 

“Please.” Sirius scoffed. “Our darling girl is the least approachable person in Hogwarts, I hardly believe there’s a wix bold enough to solicit her, let alone a puny little first year.”

“He didn’t have to solicit her, she’s tutoring him.” 

“Honestly, Marls, I’ve never been less concerned about anything in my entire life.” James admitted.

“Could be interesting to watch, yeah?” Sirius offered with a mischievous wink, nudging James with his knee. 

Remus rolled his eyes at his boyfriend, though he did close his book with a mischievous smirk. “Someone should be there to save him from our little viper.” 

“Don’t say I didn’t warn ya!” Marlene laughed as she waved them off, not bothering to hide her devious grin. 

It didn’t take long for the boys to find you, seeing as you were haunting what you had early on in your schooling dubbed the ‘most superior table’ in the library. You’d told them what made it so, but James had been paying more attention to the way your lips were moving and less on the actual words that were leaving them. 

“Oh Merlin, the poor sod has no clue.” Sirius all but giggled as they crouched behind one of the aisles of books surrounding your table. 

“Not terrible.” They heard you say as you looked over his work, and based on the boy's beaming smile one would assume you’d given him high praise.  “But you’re getting ahead of yourself and not showing your work.”

“Does showing my work matter if the answers are right?” The kid asked, and James couldn’t blame the kid - he’d had many-a-conversations along the same lines over the years. 

You simply lifted his parchment and walloped him over the head for it. “Yes, showing your work matters; you will lose marks if you don’t.”

“Well, I wouldn’t want to let you down.” The kid said solemnly, and James’ heart momentarily melted before he realised that was his darling angel that he was putting the moves on. 

He waited for you to groan and call him a rotten toerag, but you simply shook your head and instructed him to do the next question, making sure to show his work this time. 

“Get a load of this kid; she’s gotta be just about ready to hex him.” Sirius murmured. 

“I’m surprised she hasn’t, honestly.” James replied, causing Remus to snicker.

“The two of you have been hexed for less.”

The three were interrupted when the kid let out a theatrical gasp and dropped his quill. “I can’t believe I almost forgot!” He screeched before ripping open his book bag.

After far too long spent searching the inside of his bookbag, the kid withdrew a slightly crumpled rose, letting out a disappointed groan when he saw the state of it. “My astronomy textbook must’ve crushed it.”

“Why do you have a rose in your bag?” You deadpanned, and the kid was right back to beaming again.

“I brought it for you, of course. I picked the prettiest one for the prettiest girl.”

This was it, this was the moment they were here for; Sirius watched eagerly as Remus grimaced, each equally anxious for your no doubt cantankerous response. 

But it never came.

You simply let out a sound bordering a breath, a sigh, and a laugh as you gingerly took the wilted rose between two fingers. 

“Very thoughtful. Please get back to your homework.” Was all you offered him, but the kid seemed no less pleased as he picked up his quill and dutifully returned to his work. 

“What in the buggering fuck?” Sirius hissed, earning him an elbow in the ribs from Remus, but it was too late.

“Can I help you boys?” You drawled, though you never actually looked behind you where your three boyfriends were still hiding. 

“Yes, you can help me.” Sirius barked, storming out from behind the stacks followed closely by James and less closely by Remus who had the grace to look a little shamefaced for his spying. “You can help me understand what the hells all this is!”

“This is called tutoring and studying, Sirius, if you spent any time in a library, it might be more familiar to you.” You offered simply, turning a glare in Remus’ direction when he snorted. 

“Okay, swot, what I mean is why are you hear letting this little dugbog-”

“Sirius!” You chided quickly.

“Oh my gods! And you’re defending him!” Sirius continued shrilly, earning him various shushings from surrounding students. 

James couldn’t help but notice you roll your eyes in exasperation, but he also noticed the faintest hints of a smile dancing on your lips. 

“You’ve done well, Cameron; keep practising, and for the love of Merlin make sure you show your work next time or so help me gods…”

“Yes ma’am!” Cameron replied as he packed up his bag. “See you next week?”

“Just as we always have.” You drawled in a bored tone, though you offered him a smirk as he hustled out of the library. 

“I can’t believe you!” Sirius huffed as he took Cameron’s now vacated seat. 

“Angel…what is the meaning of all this?” James asked earnestly, causing Remus to snort as he had the decency to press a kiss to your hair in greeting. 

“If we’d have known you were meeting with new suitors, dove, we would have insisted on accompanying you to your tutoring sessions.”

“Oh please.” You dismissed. “He’s just a kid.”

“Uhm, and?” Sirius pouted.

“Sweetheart, we’ve seen you jinx a kid for sneezing too closely to you.” Remus reminded you, and your face darkened.

“Germ infested little freaks.”

“There’s our girl.” Sirius exclaimed. “I can’t believe you let him get away with any of that!” 

“He’s harmless.”

“He’s a flirt.” Sirius corrected.

“He’s you.” You shot back, and the three boys all looked at you with various levels of bemusement. 

“I beg your pardon?” James finally asked, and you shook your head as you began packing up your own bag. 

“He’s like a miniature version of the three of you; following me around and being abhorrently affectionate.”

“Well, hey, I think we’re, like, an appropriate amount of affectionate.” James tried. 

“No, it's sort of abhorrent sometimes.” Remus quickly agreed. 

“Babe…” Sirius cooed, causing Remus and James to grimace. “Are you going soft on us!?” 

Your eyes immediately darkened as you glowered at him, and if Sirius’ sudden flinch and the following yelp proved anything, you aimed a tame stinging jinx at him. 

“On the kid? Maybe.” You responded primly. “On the three of you? Jury’s still out.”

[srslyblvck]

a dare too far, james potter

pairing: james potter x fem!reader

synopsis: james was dared to make you fall in love with him. unknown to him, he was falling for you too. But soon the truth comes out, and you are left heartbroken.

genre: angst

warnings: mentions of y/n, heartbreak

word count: 1k

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ JAMES POTTER AND HIS friends, the infamous Marauders, were no strangers to trouble. Challenges, dares, and pranks fueled their Hogwarts days. This particular afternoon was no different as the four of them lounged on the couch in the Gryffindor common room.

"I dare you, Sirius, to go two whole weeks without getting detention," Remus said, a sly smile on his face.

Sirius scoffed, dramatically putting a hand over his heart. "Two weeks? You’re a sadist, Moony. But fine, I’ll take that bet."

Peter snickered. “It’ll be a miracle if you last even a day.”

With a smirk, Sirius turned toward James, mischief sparking in his eyes. “Alright, James. My turn. I dare you to… make her fall for you.”

James raised an eyebrow, confused. “Who?”

Sirius grinned wickedly and pointed in your direction, where you sat quietly in the corner of the common room, engrossed in a book. “Her. Y/N. The one who barely talks to anyone except her friends. The shy, sweet one. I dare you to make her fall for you.”

James followed Sirius’s gaze, frowning slightly. You were the girl who had always intrigued him—pretty, kind, and gentle, but mysterious in your quietness. You had rejected plenty of suitors over the years, always softly turning them down without ever coming off as harsh or rude. You weren’t one to make waves, yet people admired you for your kind heart.

Remus immediately sat up, his brow furrowed. “Hold on, Sirius. That’s not funny.”

“Yeah, Moony’s right,” Peter chimed in. “You can’t mess with her like that. It’s just… wrong.”

Sirius waved them off. “Oh, come on. It’s just a bit of fun.”

But Remus wasn’t laughing. “It’s playing with someone’s feelings.”

“James can handle it, can’t you, Prongs?” Sirius grinned, looking over at James.

James hesitated, glancing at you once more. The truth was, his heart still ached for Lily Evans, but she seemed as unreachable as ever. Maybe, just maybe, if he made you fall for him, it would make Lily jealous. Maybe she’d finally notice him.

With a shrug, James smirked. “Challenge accepted.”

Remus and Peter exchanged a look of disapproval, but Sirius clapped James on the back. “Atta boy.”

Over the next few weeks, James started finding ways to enter your life. It began with simple things—sitting near you in class, offering to carry your books, sharing small jokes, and asking you questions about yourself.

At first, you were surprised. James Potter, one of the most popular boys in school, was paying attention to you? You’d seen his confidence, his charm, and his easy smile, but you’d never been interested in boys like James. You preferred your quiet life, far away from the chaos that seemed to follow him and his friends.

But James… was persistent. And he wasn’t the show-off you thought he was. He was funny, thoughtful even, and when you talked to him, he made you feel like the only person in the room. Slowly, you found yourself opening up, and soon, you began looking forward to your time with him.

Your friends noticed the change. They teased you about the time you were spending with James, but they could see you were happy. You were falling for him, even though you had tried to keep your heart guarded.

What you didn’t realize was that James was falling too. Somewhere along the way, the dare had stopped being about a challenge, and it had become about you. The warmth of your smile, the way you listened to him, the gentle kindness you always showed—James found himself craving more time with you. Even Sirius, Remus, and Peter had come to adore you. You were, after all, impossible not to love.

One late afternoon, you decided to surprise James at the library, where you knew he often went to meet Remus. As you approached the table where they were sitting, you overheard their conversation.

“Mate, how long are you going to keep this up?” Remus asked, his voice tense. “It’s not fair to her. You’re playing with her feelings.”

Your heart froze. Her?

James shifted uncomfortably. “I—It wasn’t supposed to go this far.”

Sirius chuckled lightly. “Come on, Prongs. You’re doing her a favor. She’s having the time of her life.”

You took a step closer, straining to hear, feeling a knot form in your chest.

“But I didn’t mean for it to—” James started, but Sirius interrupted.

“You’ve done your job, mate. If it gets Lily jealous, then it’s all worth it, right?”

Your blood ran cold. The realization hit you like a wave crashing over rocks. The time spent with James, the laughter, the shared moments—it was all a lie. A dare.

You couldn’t breathe. Everything between you and James had been fake. He had never cared. He had only been using you to make someone else jealous.

Tears pricked the corners of your eyes as you stood there, frozen. You didn’t even realize James had spotted you until his voice cracked through the air.

“Y/N…”

You shook your head, your vision blurring with tears. The betrayal cut deeper than you could have imagined. You took a step back as James stood up, his hand outstretched.

“Please, Y/N, let me explain—”

But you couldn’t bear to hear it. You turned on your heel and fled, leaving James calling your name behind you.

James stood in the library, watching you leave, a sinking feeling in his chest. He wanted to chase after you, to explain, but how could he? The truth was out now, and he knew it. He had hurt you in the worst possible way.

For the first time in a long while, James Potter didn’t have the right words. He had lost you, and it was his own fault.

Sirius, Remus, and Peter sat in silence, the gravity of what had just happened settling heavily around them.

Remus sighed, his voice soft but firm. “I told you. You were playing with her heart.”

James slumped back into his chair, guilt gnawing at him. He didn’t care about the dare anymore. He didn’t care about making Lily jealous. All he cared about was the girl who had just walked out of his life—the girl he had fallen for without realizing it.

[metranart]

Obsessed with Nanami being all flustered and horny while in a mission with you, his ex-girlfriend's younger sister.

Ft. Nanami Kento x reader. He is thirsty for your unshared attention. He wants to be a good but you won't let him...

Driving towards the next mission, Nanami’s gaze drifts from time to time to the person sitting in the passenger seat. It is a subtly almost stoic and imperceptible move yet highly effective. 

The experienced sorcerer has found unavoidable to keep his gaze away from you for too long.

Fate was cruel, the blonde already knew that. The life of a jujutsu sorcerer is full of ups and downs, likewise… but this time, life is being excruciatingly unfair to him, making it almost like a personal affront. 

Because-…why?!... why?!!!...why did fate dare to conceive an exact replica of the only woman he has ever loved. 

Since his days of youth in Tokyo Jujutsu High, where he teamed up with two persons who would become his most important friends and unintentionally, got madly in love with one of them. Life tasted sour and sweet, all in the same plate.

One of his teammates was like a breath of clear and beautifully scented air filling his grateful lungs with so much joy, it was ridiculous. 

The blonde sorcerer remembers how much attention his lovely teammate drew by just parading around in the school uniform or merely smiling at one of his unexpected moments of sarcasm. 

The way her smile lit the rooms was something cathartical. Kidnapping the eyes of those who Nanami called classmates, to be more precise…upper classmates… annoying little bastards always lurking around the lovely third of his team. Their intentions clear, as the clear eyes of one of them.

Satoru Gojo and Suguru Getou were like a plague that more than not, invaded the younger trio space. The jujutsu sorcerers were older than them yet that did not stop them to somehow always find a way to crash their meeting points and places to hang out, a coincidence, he doubted it. 

Those two were like leeches who wanted to feed from the sweet and addictive nectar of his precious classmate, so eager to probe themselves better than each other and as consequence better than him…by sporting feats of strength and power so huge that it was impossible for others to even catch up with them. 

Gojo and his ever present, knowing smile adorning those soft lips as innocently leaned towards her and pretended was going to teach her a new combat stance, only to let his body stick closer than necessary while his treacherous hands lightly traced the supple skin it could grasp… sneaky, hormonally driven, young Satoru was someone to be careful of…and that fact made certain blonde crinkle his nose in disgust and narrow his eyes in anger, at his off-limits tactics.

The older sorcerer was to say the least infuriating.  

Even the approaches, from his not so flashy companion became threatening to the blonde. Getou and his tight-lipped smile which to certain person made him resemble a cunning fox.

He seemed to gracefully float around like a dandelion in the wind, careless attitude backed up by his hands tucked inside his pockets. 

The dark-haired sorcerer had an imperceptible and gentle way of showing up, making sure to leave a pleasant impression after every interaction. If his intentions were to incline the balance in his favor, those well-thought acts of attentive kindness were definitely smart.

The older students saw it all as a fair contest between companions, but Nanami more than sometimes felt the fantastic duo, cheats by teaming up against him… reason why he mostly ignored them.  

However, so caught up in their little mischief as the older duo was, eventually they stopped paying attention to certain unresponsive blonde who never gave them and their quarrel the time of day. What was their surprise when the supposedly inoffensive blonde ended up winning the lady, without breaking a sweat. 

As Getou sarcastically put it while patiently waiting for Gojo’s impending tantrum… looks like lady’s luck is on Nanami’s side on this one, Satoru. 

And soon the attention everyone coveted so much turned to him when his teammate and all her affections favored his stoic self.

Getou could almost swear could clearly hear how certain white-haired, blue-eyed prodigy’s heart broke like glass been smashed against the cold, unforgiving floor when she chose Nanami above everyone. 

Nevertheless, subtly glancing at his friend, could not glimpse a trace of hurt or jealousy. Only noted with resign…he was not smiling, anymore. And for the first time, Nanami was. 

After all, that cute, unexpectedly lovable girl choose him above the magnificent Gojo Satoru…Nanami, a nobody, just another regular sorcerer could call himself the rightful owner of her heart. Having the girl of his dreams fawning over his touch and craving for his sole attention, was indeed good. 

Ugh! Nanami secretly loved it. 

It was unexpected satisfactory fact that stroke his ego, almost hand in hand with how have her to his own, stroked his libido.

Soon their relationship bloomed, and she became one of those persons only appeared one in a million…apparently, this time there was a glitch and somehow, now Nanami is trapped in a dejavu. 

All thanks to the fateful day, he lost her. One day they were holding hands, the next she was gone… disappeared.  

The blonde looked for her like a lost dog looks for his home and many others joined as well… Gojo and Getou being just a few who devotedly shared this particular mission… but they were too late. His darling had left this world and shattered, Nanami abandoned the sorcerer world to become an ordinary salary man. 

One objective, money… enough money to make him forget that he failed to protect her, tired and boring days in an office were better than trashing in his bed unable to rest. 

It was a decent job, with decent intervals of action when he deigns to help a stranger or a girl in a coffee shop to remove a weak but maiming, curse. 

And what was his surprise when after several years of self-punishment, finally took the decision to come back to the sorcerer’s world and be useful again…he was struck with the vision of the beauty he once devoted himself to, but not a vision at all, but her in bone and flesh. 

Shock, stupefaction, resent, hurt… yes! those are some accurate words to describe how betrayed the blonde feels seeing her again sporting the same uniform of their youth while happily smiling at a new set of teammates and blatantly ignoring his presence as if didn’t know him, as if he hadn’t been her first kiss, her first dance, her shoulder to cry or the one thoughtfully fucking her against the nearest surface in countless occasions. 

Reaching his breaking point, Nanami’s fists clenches and his jaw acquires a sharper angle as he firmly strides to confront her and demand an explanation, when is hastily stopped by an old friend who corrects his deceiving trail of thoughts by announcing his mistake.

“It's her little sister, my friend.” Gojo explained, bluntly. “She’s a carbon paper copy, don’t you agree?” he draws his lower lip between his teeth and Nanami feels his blindfolded stare on him.

“You ought to know better than some of us.” The comment floats in the air, and the plausible tad of jealousy tinted in resentment it may have held is left forgotten due to how unbelievable much you looked like her.

Younger sister…? Wait, what!?...Why she never spoke to him about you?...she must have a good reason… yet why not share it with him… 

His face must have mirrored his doubts for the snow-haired teacher by his side was prone to inform.

“This little one appeared in front of the school at the tender age of eleven…” he nodded his head to emphasize his statement. “Days after you left, actually—” Gojo rested his hand against his chin, remembering. “Carrying a handwritten letter from her recently deceased sister, your darling…seems like she had a well-hidden secret whose name is (y/n).”

Nanami was at a loose for words. How did he not realize before? Of course, it couldn't be her! Yet, you looked exactly like when they were teenagers and even when those golden years had vanished, the memory still fueled his heart with a furious torrent of emotion that hammered through his veins. 

Momentarily stunned by the astonishing similarity, stood silent and Gojo continues explaining how you are the only trace she left behind…the youngest of a devastated, well-hidden clan of sorcerers and now, quite the lovely teen. 

Your cute face is exactly like the one he dreams of when has a strike of luck instead of the usual nightmares, the way the uniform hugs your curves is sending familiar shivers through every muscle of his body, the flow of your hair cascading down your back has him nibbling at his lip with a hunger doesn’t recognize and that incredibly, gentle spark lingering in your gaze has his heart hammering an old and painful ballad of love… you are re-branding his brain with a new, yet, known tune.

You are most certainly, her little sister and he is infuriatingly hooked, could have fallen on his knees and burst into pathetic tears of the most sublime pain and relief, but instead stands expressionless and almost indifferent to your presence, knowing certain cerulean eyes drink his every reaction, and if he knows Gojo as he thinks he does… the prodigy is pondering a second chance, so bluntly, can almost savor you.

Nanami must admit trusts Gojo with his life… even if doesn’t respect him that much, the prodigy holds a special place to him… that said, makes him a little uncomfortable the knowledge you may be occupying this powerful sorcerer every thought while triggering in him, a long qualm, thirst. 

Even when glancing at him looks cool and compose, the blonde senses how consumed by you he already is… how eager, patiently waits for a chance to steal the last print of an old flame that never was able to fully blow away.

A print that now lies in the next seat of Nanami’s car, scrolling through her cellphone utterly unaware of how her presence not only spikes her sensei’s interest, but has an equally, if not higher effect on Nanami’s blood pressure, fogging his rational thoughts and making him more dangerous than any curse they were to face that day.

“Take a picture, it lasts longer.” He hears you teasingly say, without taking your eyes from the screen of your cell phone.

Well, maybe he is not as subtle as he thought. A playful smile lingers in your lips and his rigid shoulders lose a little at your obvious teasing. 

Nanami merely hums, secretly amused. His face doesn’t show what really thinks but if it did, you wouldn’t be so calm.

“I have a picture of you.” You share out of the sudden, ignoring his lack of acknowledgement to your previous comment and from the corner of your eye almost dare to claim, he is smirking. “It's an old snapshot and has a date written below...” the blonde slightly tilts his head towards you, and you know you have his full attention. 

“My sister is giving you a kiss on the cheek, and you look outstandingly cold and indifferent, yet—” you make a long pause while rapidly typing something in your phone and starting to lose focus, you hear him stoically repeat.

“Yet…”

Glancing at him your gazes bump, his eyes are set on you instead of the road and the intensity shining behind his amber glasses spark goosebumps all over your forearms. 

You make a pitiful and unintelligible questioning sound, and your previous idea returns. “Uh-hh..yes!-…you were adorably blushing, Nanami.” You claim, confident of your keen eye. 

“It took me some study and analyzing, but I can confidently say that I may be the only person who can tell when you are blushing like a cornered nun.”

A cute giggle supports your claim, and the aloof blonde slowly returns his gaze to the road, in utter silence. A shit eating grin blooms in your face and pointing a finger at his face, you declare, shamelessly.

“Like right now! You are blushing!” 

The sorcerer barely tilts his head your way and carefully bats your pointing finger away. An imperceptible grin sparking his solemn stupor.

“No, I’m not.”

-

The two of you finish the mission fairly slow and leave almost intact the premises, the curse was extra troublesome and annoying more than powerful and you feel like if your body weighted twice as much due to fatigue. 

Your body has replenished with cursed energy and is back to normal, but this was supposed to be a simple enough mission, which actually wasn’t.

Entering the co-pilot seat, you sprawl all over the seat, heavily groaning.

“I’m too old for this.” You nag, stretching your arms over your head until your back cracks, loudly.

“If you are too old, I must be catastrophically ancient…” Nanami replies in a calm voice, absentmindedly, adjusting his seatbelt. “More like catastrophically-y, aged…like a good wineeee.” You interrupt him in slurred words and half-lidded eyes. 

Not giving a second thought to your misplaced praise, he finishes and glances at you to check your seatbelt, to find it irresponsibly absent. “Put your seatbelt on, please.”

Unwittingly ignoring him due to your quick shift between awake and sleep. He repeats the request and waits. 

“(Y/N), please, put your seatbelt on.” 

A pained sigh leaves his lips before his mouth sets in a firm line, and he leans over your already sleeping form.

This girl is going to be the end of me… 

His hand grabs for the seatbelt and pulls it over your torso, adjusting it correctly until can hear the click and checking his work, finds the belt tangled awkwardly right in the middle of your heaving chest. 

“Damn it.”

The blonde sorcerer whispers under his breath and smoothly hovering over you again, lightly grabs the wronged strap in between his fingers and pulls very weakly as to not disturb you, but the stretchy material doesn’t give and has to use both hands to untangle the seatbelt.

“Don’t wake up. Don’t wake up…” he repeats, lowly as a mantra, while his palms smooth against your breast, groping and lightly touching his way as he finally untangles the material and sets it straight. 

His eyes widen at the way the strap presses between your breast making it look rounder and plumper and his mouth waters, skin over his hands tingling at the delicious grazes he was able to steal while innocently arranging you.

Straightening back, Nanami places his seatbelt back on and starts the engine. There’s a long way back to the college and his mind is about to make it even longer.

You are firmly rooted in his brain. 

Throughout all the mission, you were constantly asking him about your sister and that set him on the edge. How was onee-san when she was young? Was she strong? Was she awesome? Where you a couple?

Nanami adored your lovely sister but talk about her still made him sore and sometimes a little guilty…a lot guilty, especially when you where the one asking. Due to a nagging voice in the back of his head always reminding him how blatantly lusted after the love of his life's, little sister.

He must admit felt thankful for the curse to be a higher rank that he had planned, due to that distracted you enough for him to change the subject.

But now, there is no curse to distract him, and his more dangerous thoughts are up to make him feel awfully driven.

He shouldn't have touched you, but he didn't want you to be uncomfortable.

How naive of me. The ex-salary man thinks, annoyed. 

The darkness surrounds the road while the car passes through the deserted lane and Nanami can feel how his pants are getting tighter while his mind plays thousands of scenarios where you are the protagonist. 

A long sigh abandons his tight lips and slowing the car, finds a curve to stop. 

He feels odd. 

Nanami is not only exhausted but also embarrassingly aroused. 

Leaning back against his seat, shuts his eyelids and takes a couple of deep gulps of air until his heart stops drumming so hard. Able to hear his thoughts again, relaxes and places a warm palm on top of his stranding erection and forces his mind into a calm state of relaxation.

In and out, in and out, he heaves.

Opening his eyes, finds the light of the city in front of him…when did I park here?...and realizes is parked in an abandoned parking lot which lies lighten up only by the bright lights of the throbbing city near a steep cliff.

The ex-salary man remembers that place from fond memories but doesn’t remember making the turn to get there. 

Odd. 

Cocking his head to the side, glances back at you and finding you deep asleep. He dares to palm his throbbing erect member though the suit pants. Light nibbles at his lower lip aids him to repress a moan and he ponders.

Maybe just some strokes to calm me down…she’s deep sleep…Its irresponsible for me to drive this… distracted.

He’s not even going to take himself out, stroking himself under the fabric would serve him right. Unzipping his pants, his hand merely slips under the fabric to wrap around his engorged length. 

Slowly strokes up and down, from the base to the tip in fluid and regular motions.

Looking at you the entire time through his amber lenses, he lets his mind wander about the thousands of possibilities that laid between your warm thighs, and it takes just a minute for him to close his eyes to enjoy his little fantasy and for a loud moan to freely depart his sealed lips.

Nanami keeps stroking, a little faster, a little firmer… when suddenly feels faint air fan his face.

Instantly, opens his eyes to find your beautiful (e/c) orbs, gazing down at his erect cock. Fully at display, at some point, had pull himself out and now he was fucked.

Embarrassingly mortified is about to cover himself and mutter a fast apology when your words stop him cold.

“Your balls are so full…” You express, matter-of-factly, stare firmly set on his exposed flesh. “May I help you relieve the stress, Nanami? After all it is my fault–”

Your cotton-candy, mellow mewl informs and he realizes your words don’t make sense, why would it be your fault?Perhaps, you knew of his sick infatuation with you? Maybe you were aware of how frequently his mind fluttered around you… or, maybe he has been painfully obvious, and you just like to see him, troubled and strained. Having his permanent stare on your every move. 

But before your words sink completely to find a proper meaning, your body is in motion. Undoing your seatbelt, you climb out of your seat and straddle him for a moment too short for his delight, to then carefully slip in between his open thighs and comfortably, occupy the space under the steering wheel.

“Are you comfortable?” 

You ask and the experienced sorcerer is too stunned to answer. Mouth agape, he witnesses as your tiny hand shyly grazes his sack to then cup it and begin to do a generous massage.

Nanami can’t stop the pleasurable tremble that kidnaps his entire frame, and he blasts. 

“Stop-” his firm request dies in his parted lips when your wet lips join sucking the smooth skin covering his heavy balls and a long, raspy groan fills the car.

You dedicate all your mind in the task and closing your eyes in concentration, ignore how his throbbing member rests over your face, delivering soft, faint slaps each time you suck too eagerly. 

Nanami is getting there way too quickly, your inexpert massage combined with the fervent licks and sucks are unfairly disarming him, his thick thighs are sprawled on either side of you and remembering how to breath, sets on a personal quest to prevent from cumming. 

Not that he doesn’t want to see your cute little face dripping in his murky essence, is more that he doesn’t want to face you after.

Finally getting his shit together, comes back from ecstasy and is able to think straight again. 

What he plans to be a firm demand is highly questionable.

“Stop right now-… (y/n) …you don’t know-” gasps, “what you a-are doing…to me-” squinting his eyes, his mouth opens slightly to gulp more air. 

“Am I doing it wrong, Nanami?” Your pouty lips abandon his scrotum, and you glance up at him looking like a scolded puppy.

Nanami’s heart clenches watching you pout like that. You look so eager to please him and he feels so eager to let you.

This is wrong, this is wrong, this is wrong… 

Loudly sighing, cools his mind and letting all his good senses be melt by you, asks the only question that is able to formulate. “…Are you sure?”

There’s a pregnant silence and he, anxiously, waits.

He wants you so bad, shamefully remembers how tempted felt to touch you more in your sleep. To slide his hand between your open legs under the fabric of your skirt, to grope under your uniform shirt and feel the softness of your skin. But he isn’t that kind of man. He only takes when given.

Finally, you nod, and he gently denies his head. 

“I need verbal–” 

“I’m sure, Nanami.” You reply, rapidly but shyly. “Please-e let me help you.” You stammer, weakly and a cute blush spread over your cheeks.

It’s enough for Nanami.

Opening his pants, a little wider, he strokes his shaft, invitingly and you lean up on your bended knees to let your tongue run from the roundness of his scrotum and up his thick length, leaving a wet line of delirious tingles along your way up. Your pink tongue flattens a visible vein at the side and your lips wrap, slowly, around the tip.

Nanami wasn’t expecting this level of compromise at suck him off and his mind goes uncontrollably, wild and foggy.

Your pink lips are devoutly hugging the tip, delivering slow and wet cat licks until you feel your head be pushed from the back and you are forced to engulf almost six inches of raw meat, slipping down your delicate throat, roughly. 

The bulbous head of his cock faintly hits the back of your throat, and he gasps, loudly.

“Please…” the sorcerer mewls, “open wider-” bucks into your mouth, eyes tightly closed. “WIDER...” the blonde commands, in a tight voice and his palm presses harder against the back of your nape. His hips start to move, humping your narrow mouth, taking your head in his hands to dip his cock as his thrusts ignite a rhythm. 

You whine and his eyes open to look at your glossy eyes looking up at him, lips stretched around his shaft, mouth full of him, nose hitting his pubic bone with each lunge as his plump balls coat in spit falling from your drooling lips. 

You are too much to take in. You are too fucking much. Nanami is losing it. Your fingers are digging at his thighs and your cheeks resolutely hollow to try to suck him deeper. 

Desperately, trying to achieve his needy command.

It's so wrong, so despicable of him to be filling you so utterly good. It's like your mouth was carved around his erect cock.  

Tears run down your cheeks and Nanami doesn’t even try to slow his pace or alternate from hitting the back of your throat to let you breathe. 

He’s far gone to gift you with those courtesies, he gave several warnings and even more chances to leave him be. 

But your stubborn self-refused to listen, now the only thing can do is take his glasses off to place them over your eyes and slip them up the bridge of your nose, to lower the pang of enthusiasm that your wet eyelashes mixed with how much you are struggling, arouses him.

Needs to keep a little control over himself, you are so inexpert he might break you, if let's go completely. 

You look so good; it is taking all in him to not thrust faster. You are as breathtaking as your sister once was.

And it hits him, his eyes narrowing at the realization, you are way better. 

“Never thought I would say this…but i think you look even prettier than your sister used to look when she sucked me off after classes-” he praises, drawing a large hand down your cheek to tilt your drooling chin up and guide your mouth to swallow more of his length until feels your agitated breath fan against his pubic skin and he holds, lightly. 

“Breathe through your nose.” Indicates, in a calm voice. “You wanted to know more about her…” You blush at the mention of your beloved onee-san and your current state, but Nanami’s seems fairly relaxed, “…haven’t you been pestering me about that all day?”

Gagging tears run down behind amber glasses at the same time you nod, weakly and whipping them gently with his thumbs, he continues.

“The first time I fucked her dumb was after we defeat a special class curse…she had your exact age, we both were so young-” his voice was thick with something you couldn’t decipher but the way he looks down at you, tells miles about how serious he’s been. “I pressed her against the hard concrete and ram her from behind without letting her adjust to the girth of my cock…” you sharply inhale trying to pull your head back and he pulls you back in and holds you still between his strong hands. “I said, breathe through your nose.”

The stoic blonde waits for you to stop gagging, softly petting your hair and once your pulse is steady again, he continues sharing. “It was not gentle or romantic, in the least, pure and raw passion-…” his orbs roll to the side as if remembering and faintly grinning, he admits. “She even let me strip her bare in that filthy place, to mount her against everything we could put her on…” his right palm slides down your throat in a measured motion, palming with the pad of his fingers at your delicate neck to figure how deep inside you, he is.

Lightly nudging finds the head of his cock at the top of your delicate neck and he hums, approvingly at how deep your swallowed him being your first time. You were certainly struggling to keep him nestled inside, yet he isn’t ready to leave your warmth.

“At first, she couldn’t swallow me whole but after hard training I loosen her throat enough to hug my cock at its fullest… just like you are struggling to do right now…” his fingers tap playfully against your swollen neck, and you groan.

Whirling your tongue around his tip, as your last attempt to unbalance him enough to pull back, finally succeed and he moans huskily, to then pull you off from the hair, lips making a loud pop sound when your mouth leaves. 

You pant, heavily. Tears run wild down your strained cheeks as you swallow some spit to moisten your sullen throat. 

Trying to catch your breath, you feel the rim of his coat sleeve gently cleaning the drool from your mouth, soft and precise wipes as if polishing fragile china and his large hand cups your jaw delivering a mindful massage while his other hand threads his long fingers inside the strands of your hair and both palms dutifully lower the pain cause by his previous roughness.

“I apologize, just wanted to make a point.” He simply states as if that explained everything. You look at him, confusion swimming in your round puffy eyes and he sighs, innocently cocking his head at you. “Your sister and I had a very special relationship, based in raw trust and the most pure and unprejudiced understanding.” 

You weren’t dumb and his secret innuendo didn’t pass unnoticed. It was more than obvious that they knew each other fairly well to share their kinks and deepest secrets and trusted each other enough to not feel judged when they did. 

You want that, you want Nanami to claim you as he once claimed your sister. You want Nanami to trust you as he trusted her.

“I want to be like her!” you proclaim, heatedly. “I can take it.”    

You say, staring directly into his eyes, determination shinning in your orbs. Nanami shakes his head, pleasantly surprise and in a lazy motion takes back his glasses, bumping the tip of your nose with his index finger before putting the amber glass back on the bridge of his nose.

The experienced sorcerer leans, surrounding the steering wheel with both his arms and whispers in a husky, joyful voice. 

“Want me to train you like I train your onee-san?” A mischievous smirk stretches his mouth, and you marvel at how handsome he looks when he’s relaxed.

You nod, eagerly. 

“Fine.” He speaks. “I’ll train you.”

Your eyes round with excitement and he grins at your sparkling attitude. 

“Lesson one.” You lean closer, attentive for his next words. “Breathe through your nose.” 

A wide smile stretches your face, beautiful and full of joy and he feels butterflies flying inside his stomach when you say his name.

“Nanami.” 

“Nanami…”

“Nanami Kento!”

The blonde opens his eyes, startled and confusion raids his usually stoic features. 

“Nanami-” You call once again, this time softer. “You fell sleep.” You swiftly explain and glancing around finds the car where he left it, at the side of the lane and not in the parking lot near the cliff. 

Damn it! Dammit! I dreamed all…? What a magnificent asshole I am…that was the lividest dream I’ve ever had…Damn it…Damn it…

“I know.” His voice is thick and clearing his throat, his face goes back to plain and indifferent. “Just resting my eyes…to continue safely.”

You accept his answer, easily.

“Classic Nanami,” you beam. “So trustworthy.” Smiling adds. “I feel so safe around you.”

His mouth sets in a straight line and he starts the car again, feeling a whole lot more guilty.

The trip is fast and silent, and you attribute it to him being tired. But you couldn’t be more wrong. 

The experienced sorcerer is deep in thought, more like deep in regret. Analyzing every aspect of his wet dream, can only come to the conclusion that he is in desperate need of placing you in your sister’s shoes. 

Probably is being unfair to that prerogative, what he really wants is for you to want to be in your sister’s shoes. 

For you to want and need him as much as he does with you. Is that too much to ask? He thinks not. 

Reaching the school, he stops at the entrance, and you hop down the car, bouncing skirt claims his entire attention and snapping out of it, Nanami quickly says his goodbyes with a fast motion of his hand.

The motor roars and before he leaves, you turn around and point at his face through the open window. 

“Hey Nanami!” he turns to look at you, holding a stare that’ll worry you, if it weren’t being hidden behind his glasses, and ignoring his throbbing need, you cleverly proclaim. 

“You are blushing!” 

Damn it. 

➡️ JJK NSFW ART

[ariesmoontarot]

The Honest Truth

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Hey everyone I hope you’re having a good day! So this reading is going to be different from my usual readings. I’m going to channel what the collective needs to hear without a specific topic being in mind. Take it how it resonates and leave what doesn’t. Enjoy!

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choose a number from 1-3 to pick your pile.

The Piles:

💙Pile One:

I feel like things are happening around you that are changing you as a person. Your whole life could be changing in every aspect and I just feel like there is something you’re questioning. You feel confused and doubting how you feel in this situation. I’m seeing a heavy heart. You feel overwhelmed, exhausted, & burdened by a situation you feel betrayed in. I feel like something happened that made you feel like you were left for the wolves and it’s pushing you to pull yourself together as best as you can. I see you trying to create a feeling of stability and independence but it’s been a hard and long journey to get to where you are right now and you’re doing it! Slowly but surely. All things come around in full circle. What you give is what you get and maybe you gave time, effort, and energy to a situation that didn’t happen the way you wanted, but it’s happening in the right time in the way that it’s supposed to. I feel like you’ve blocked someone or something from being able to reach you. You’re protecting yourself and standing on business. I feel like you aren’t letting anything or anyone affect the ambition and goals you have in mind no matter how much it hurts. You’re learning to have healthier boundaries and I feel like for a lot of you there’s a person you felt connected to emotionally and they could have lied or moved a certain way that inevitably made you feel the way you do. You’re questioning on whether or not this person or connection is really for you. I feel like things didn’t seem to work out for you guys because of the way they approached you. I feel like they let their fears and pride get in the way of things and they self sabotaged. They know going about things the way they do isn’t going to work with you and I feel like you’re upset with them. You’re a little mad to be honest. I feel like you’re giving them the silent treatment and completely closed off now. I see they do have feelings for you and you make them really happy. They feel emotionally invested with you and they want to try and come together to make things work, but it’s taking time and I feel like they’re procrastinating not taking any responsibility or steps to come towards you at all. They’re just sitting on how they feel and not expressing it. I see them trying to approach you with this opportunity to try again for something long term and it took a lot for this person to come towards you. They had to let go of alot of things and I feel like they are trying to feel confident with their approach. Something blew up in this persons face and I feel like it was the fact that you went ghost on them. You simply withdrew yourself and went your own way. I see them looking at the situation with anxiety and fear because they know they’ll be losing a good person if they don’t get their act together. I feel like right now you’re just focused on loving yourself and life. You have this lighthearted energy where you aren’t letting things really get to you. You acknowledge the uncomfortable feelings and keep it moving. I feel like you’re disappointed and hurt but you just keep it moving with this “naive” attitude. It’s not like you’re giving them the benefit of the doubt, but you’re definitely just acting ignorant like you don’t know the gameplay. You know things aren’t fair right now and I feel like you’re aware of everything that’s going on. You’re just observing and paying close attention to all the details. You’re watching them too, maybe on social media or something but however you see them you’re definitely gathering up all the facts and evidence needed to back up how you feel without it actually being said to you. It’s like you’re listening to your own truth and accepting how you feel for what it really is. It’s up to you what you want to do with the information you find, but I see a lot of you are about to or already went hermit. I feel guided to tell you to pick another pile after this one if you feel like you should.

💙Pile Two:

Hi pile 2! I feel like right now you’re a bit disappointed and sad over some spilled milk. You’re feeling some guilt for doing what is best for you. I feel like you have all that you need to change your circumstances within yourself. You just need to be determined, patient, and willing. Good things really do take time. Trials and tribulations will happen and that’s just life. You don’t learn to appreciate the good if there is no bad. I see someone keeping a close eye on you. Paying attention and maybe talking about you. It doesn’t have to be bad talk though. I just feel like they’re seeing you do you and talking about it with people they’re around or close to. I see you feeling inspired by this disappointment though. The hurt is inspiring you to change and take control over what you can and that is yourself. You’re putting an end to this feeling of sadness and guilt and turning it into something positive. I feel like you’re not stopping your life for nobody. You keep it pushing even when it’s hard to. You’ve grown so much as a person and I feel like this situation is only pushing you to do even better than you are! You aren’t waiting for anyone to come and save you or be the person that you need. You’re definitely giving someone the cold shoulder and letting them watch you. You don’t necessarily need anyone, but when a person is getting your time, care, and efforts I feel like you aren’t going to just let them walk all over you and not hold up their end of the line. You have standards, morals, & integrity. I feel like you don’t like the unnecessary drama or chaos and if someone is disrupting your peace you will gladly cut off all communication with them. I see you confidently enjoying yourself and resting assured all things will happen the way they should. You’re letting your actions and effort lead you and having faith that you accepting things and letting them just happen will align what and who is really meant for you. I just keep getting this energy of “wait for me”. I’m not sure who is wanting this but someone definitely is. Someone who loves and cares about you, but can’t give you what you need right now in whatever way that applies to you. They’re trying their best to hold onto you and not let you go. Even if it’s just watching you, not saying too much or anything but putting on this front like as if they’re fine. They’re being lighthearted and cold at the same time. It’s like they’re being really quiet not saying much, but definitely feeling a lot of emotion without letting you see too deeply. They know if they get too close they will fall in love with you. For some of you this could be a friend or someone you have history with. This person is up in their head not trying to say anything because they’re afraid or they feel like they just can’t do much because of where they are right now. They want to take the lead and you follow, but I feel like they need to come up with a plan or take the extra mile in order to even get to you because I don’t see you settling. You feel like the situation itself is too much drama and conflict. It’s a bit triggering for you because I feel like you’ve grown past all that type of energy. You’re completely blocked off to this person and I feel like they feel it. They know you shut them out of your life and it took a lot for you to do that as well.

💙Pile Three:

I feel like you’re working on multiple things in your life right now and one of those things is a connection you have with someone. I feel like you were offering your love and care to this person and they broke your trust. You feel like you lost your energy to even try anymore and the situation has gone draining and more of a setback than it is benefiting you. I feel like you just want things to be balanced and reciprocated, but instead it feels like you’re the only one trying and you’re tired. I feel like you don’t want to fight for this anymore. This person unexpectedly felt something for you and I feel like they didn’t feel prepared at all for that. They feel this calling to just hold onto you and not let you go. They keep trying to put in bits of effort to hold on to the connection but I feel like because of the way they’re showing up it seems like they don’t feel for you at all. They seem distracted or a bit closed off emotionally and it’s because they’re afraid of opening up. For some of you they’re afraid of their feelings for you. You might be wondering why this person keeps in contact with you at all but it’s because they feel like they need to take their time with things and be patient with the way things are going. You don’t want to go with the flow when you don’t know where that river leads to. I’m hearing “this is getting old” and “reaching for the stars”. I feel like you’re tired of the same old story and excuses. It just feels like this will never be good. You can feel that way or this person does. I just feel like the energy is giving pessimistic hopeless romantic. Feeling like there’s no hope of this ever working out and I feel like you’re ready to just move on and keep it pushing. You’re not dealing with inconsistent and immature behavior. This person isn’t on the same level as you emotionally and besides all the surface level and physical stuff, deep down they’re struggling. They don’t know how to handle their feelings and I feel like they may run from them. I’m getting a lot of messages about the ocean and water so emotions are definitely a big factor here. It feels like you were building on an unsteady foundation and it was almost as if you stepped into a building that was inevitably going to fall apart and the minute you stepped in it crumbled. That’s how this person heart feels. It’s like the minute they got too close things just started coming undone. I do see you speaking your mind to this person and being completely honest about how you feel and I feel like you told them what you needed and wanted out and it made them realize they want the same things their mind is just at war with their heart. They aren’t saying much to you and I feel like they could just be ignoring you and not saying anything at all because they know you just want nothing but clear and direct communication. You want everything straight forward and I feel like your standards are high so you aren’t accepting less than. You’re very intelligent and I feel like you see through any situation that seems unclear. You know the minute you’re being gaslighted or manipulated and I feel like whenever you start to second guess yourself and what you feel, you know something is up. You know this person isn’t quite sure on how they feel and I feel like you accepted what they gave you and ran with it. In the sense that you let them do what they want to do and you just observe and move accordingly. Either way you’re gonna do what’s best for you. This person is separated from you by fate. I feel like there is distance between you and it could be a lack of communication, physical or emotional distance, or all of the above. This is happening so they can understand things by themselves. They know deep down how they feel and it’s up to them whether or not they want to accept it. I don’t see you waiting around though. You’re doing what makes you happy and I feel like being stuck and confused is something you’re definitely not about to do and they know this because of what you said and did. You said what you said and you stand on that.

You meant everything you ever said to them and I feel like when you walked away they realized how serious you were. I seen something that said “If a woman likes you enough you don’t even have to lie to her, she will lie to herself.” Some of you could have been lying to yourself giving this person the benefit of the doubt, but then you decided you couldn’t do it anymore and just started being honest with yourself. Of course you don’t have to be a woman but generally speaking. This person could’ve been in another situation before you, that didn’t work out and maybe they seen a good opportunity with you just to have a person like you around. They could’ve attempted to fill the void that they feel with you. However, they underestimated you. But I just hear “I’m not dealing with this” from you and you walked away. Completely cut off contact and went about your life as you should. I just feel like this person feels stuck and that’s something they’re gonna have to figure out.

[owuwi]

NATALIE SCATORCCIO

summary: she can't be into you, so why not distance herself?

pairings: natalie scatorccio x fem!r

warnings: angst, a tiny bit suggestive, detailed description of throwing up, internalized homophobia from natalie

2.0k words

Natalie wasn't into girls. She wasn't opposed to fucking them but she wasn't romantically attracted to them. Or at least that's what she thought until she started seeing you in a different way.

You were the whole package; not only were you easy on the eyes but you actually cared about Natalie. That's why she immediately started to distance herself from you the moment she realized that she was starting to get too attached.

A bit of context here; you were Nat's person. You were the only one who she trusted enough to talk about every single shit that happened to her. You were always there for her no matter what and she even tried to 'return the favor' and be there for you — though it didn't always work but at least she tried —.

You protected her, you defended her and she — grumpily — allowed you to. She'd be lying if she said that it didn't make her feel good, that it didn't make her feel safe, but she simply wasn't ready to admit it. She wasn't someone easy to be around, let alone date, so she thought that avoiding you was her way of protecting you back.

Your friends and even Natalie's didn't understand why you were so persistent about her, why you tried so hard to show people that she wasn't a bitch or any of those terrible things they called her, but you weren't doing it for them, you were doing it for Nat. You needed her to stop being so harsh on herself. Your efforts didn't go unnoticed by the dirtyblonde-haired girl, in fact, it only made her like you even more.

She skipped school today which was something you were already used to, but you were worried about her thanks to the fact that she hasn't been calling you back nor meeting you at your spot — yeah, you and Natalie had a secret place where you would meet each other before school —. That's why you built every ounce of courage and decided to pay her a visit after your classes.

Natalie's house — trailer — wasn't unknown to you but you never actually walked there without her permission. She was always telling you when to show up or not, and it was always at times when she was completely alone. You were obviously aware of the issues she had with her family which is why you never visited her unless she told you to, and you prayed that this visit wouldn't get her in trouble.

You knew she was home alone by the sight of her sitting on the stairs of her trailer, a bunch of light-out cigarets and a pair of empty bottles — most likely of booze — scattered around the pavement. Seeing Natalie like this pained you more than she understood but you knew you needed to be strong for her, that's why you walked closer to her, ready to help her in any way possible.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Natalie, though, didn't seem happy by your presence at all. The slim girl immediately stood up after letting out those slurred words, her voice as rough and deep as always.

You knew she was just drunk and payed no attention to her sharp tone of voice, instead, you took a deep breath and approached her even more. There was an odd tension between the two of you; the air suddenly thickening around you, the sounds of the trailer park muffling as your feet moved towards the girl.

"I asked you a question." She spoke again, looking at you with a mix of confusion and discomfort in her gaze. The way she was staring at you was enough to send shivers down your spine, a look you've never received from Natalie before.

Making her mad was definitely not going to be a good thing, especially not when you were trying to get answers for her startled behavior. "I was worried.." Is all that managed to come out of your mouth, your voice sounding shaky and stuttered. It was obvious that Nat was drunk — you could now smell the alcohol on her breath due to how close she was —, hence is why you understood that she wasn't in her right mind.

The girl in front of you simply scoffed, a cold, raspy noise coming from the back of her throat and slipping past her cut-clad lips. You'd be lying if you said you've never thought about kissing them, about feeling them pressing against every inch of your body. Though right now wasn't the moment to be thinking about that stuff, it was almost as if Natalie could read your mind; her eyebrows furrowing slightly as she stares at you.

"Leave me alone, don't you understand that i don't want you close to me? Or are you so fucking stupid that you can't realize something as simple like that?" She quickly asked again, but you could see the way her bottom lip was slightly trembling while she looks at you.

"What's going on, Nat? Why are you acting like this?" You couldn't help but to ask your friend, shifting even closer to her, your words dripping with serious concern and affection — which was definitely not helping her with her mixed feelings —.

Natalie wanted nothing more but to yell at you, to punch you until you were a bloody mess on the pavement, but she couldn't. There was never a violent — hell, not even a negative — thought about you in her mind. For her, you were perfect; an angel sent from heaven to keep her safe. Despite how fuzzy her head was due to all the alcohol and cigarets she had, you were all she could think about.

That's why she grabbed the collar of your shirt and crashed her lips against yours, so roughly that you swore your lips were going to bruise. It was a quick kiss, though messy and filled with anger, it wasn't enjoyable. You couldn't even kiss her back, your hands hovering over her sides but not fully resting against them. What were you supposed to do? Natalie kissed you like some sort of rabid animal — grunts slipping past her lips — and you could taste the cigarets and licor she previously had.

She pulled away some moments later, allowing her forehead to rest against your own, and everything was quiet for some moments. "Because of you... why can't you fucking see that?" She rasped out, her eyes slowly fluttering open to look at you.

There was an evident hint of lust in the girl's gaze but there was something else; a hint of fear glimmering in her eyes. You knew she wasn't doing well yet you couldn't bring yourself to say anything, you were paralyzed — her taste still lingering in your tongue —.

"I can't do this shit... you know that.." She continued talking before closing her eyes and pushing you away — which caused you to stumble back a bit —, acting as if you were the one who kissed her. She then ran her fingers through her ruffled hair, clearly trying to hold back her emotions.

Despite still being quite in shock, you knew that you needed to say something before she dugs herself further into this messy hole. That's why, after taking a deep breath and really thinking about your words, you speak up; "Y-You're... too drunk. Let me help you, please.." You weakly muttered out, offering her a small, almost shy smile before gently reaching out to grab her hand.

Now, Natalie was definitely not a touchy person. She actually hated to be touched — always flinching whenever someone got too close — but you were different. You were you, and she would always allow you to do whatever you wanted with her — though she wouldn't say it out loud —. So seeing the way she roughly slaps your hand away and then takes a step backwards hurt you more than you thought it could.

"Don't—...." She trailed off, looking at you with parted lips for a moment before lightly shaking her head side-to-side and then turning around. She sat down on the edge of the stairs once again, resting the back of her head against the door of the trailer. "Don't touch me.." She managed to continue her sentence, looking up at you like a kicked puppy.

Her eyes were red and filled with un-shed tears, her body visibly shaking, and you knew that was going on in her head. She needed her person right now — she needed you — and you could tell. Even though she was going to complain, you simply sat down next to her and then let out a sigh. You couldn't look at her, you were confused. Did Nat liked you? Did she wanted to be something more than just friends? Or was it the booze in her system? Millions of thoughts were racing through your mind until the sound of her voice snapped you back into reality.

"My uh... m-my dad's gonna be here any time soon... you should leave.." She warned you, looking over at you through hooded eyes, a hint of concern hidden in her words. Despite everything, she still cared about you.

"I'm not leaving you... especially not when you're like this." You quickly protested before bitting down on your bottom lip. An idea crossed your mind, an idea drunken-Natalie wouldn't enjoy, and you knew it was the right thing to do. Before the dirtyblonde-haired girl could say anything, you spoke again.

"You should come with me, you're in no state to see your—... dad." You then added, your voice cracking with nervous and even hesitation. There was a glimpse of anger noticeable in the girl's eyes for a moment before she looked away from you, her face turning into a wince before she threw up on the pavement.

You immediately grabbed her hair and hold it up for her, using your free hand to slowly rub soothing circles on her back — the fabric of her t-shirt soaked in cold sweat —. Natalie Scatorccio was probably the most stubborn person you've ever met, yet you hoped that she would allow you to help her in this moment.

"Please, just—... make it stop.." She weakly stuttered out, not being able to stop the warm liquid slipping past her lips. Natalie liked the effect of being drunk but she absolutely despised the consequences; puking and then being hangover the next day. The way she was acting like a little kid was only breaking your heart even more.

"C'mon..." You simply indicated before helping her get up, ignoring the putrefying smell of her vomit. You've helped Natalie during moments like this plenty of times yet you never truly realized how messed up it was; how fucked up it was.

The drunk girl was literally shaking, her body seeming much smaller than it ever did, and she was weak. She would never admit it but she was weak; she was so weak that she could barely walk on her own. If it wasn't for you, she'd probably be passed out on the cold floor, waiting for the inevitable to happen.

The next hours were a blur for the two of you; you managed to get her into your car and drove her to your house. Your family were — thankfully — out of town so you had your house to yourself. Natalie was mumbling nonsense under her breath the whole time you helped her into your place, you assisted her with brushing her teeth and even bathed her. In another time, another moment, the pair of you would've joked about this; you probably would've crack a joke or two, but this was different. Nat was barely conscious and she wasn't herself.

After giving her some fresh clothes, you lied her on your bed and she immediately passed out.

It was until midnight where she roused and she couldn't help but to break, tears rolling down the pale skin of her cheeks like a cascade. You obviously woke up yet you didn't say anything, you simply wrapped your arms around her figure and she allowed you to — she was so weak for you —.

With her head on your chest, she eventually calmed down, her lips parting to mumble out some simple words. "I'm so—... so sorry.."

[nogenderbee]

♡˗ˏ✎*ೃ˚ 𝕃𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥𝕤 𝕝𝕠𝕧𝕖𝕣 ₊˚ˑ༄

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ anon request: Hi, friend! Could I request Solomon, Lucifer, Mammon, and Simeon with a reader who likes lights? Reader would collect lights (like lamps, nightlights, etc) and decorate their room with them.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ Hi love!! Of course you can! Also so sorry for this being so short but yeah- I didn't wanted to force anything -w- Hope you like it anyway!!!

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ fluff

✧ Lucifer honestly sees it as passion like any other

✧ he thinks it's nice that you got something you like and isn't too... troublesome with it... untill bill for electricity comes in lol

✧ he knows how much you like it and won't stop you from putting it around house if you'd really want to... but he'll warn you that Asmo will definitely pay attention to that and may complain about it if you "choose wrong design or place"

✧ he also tries convincing you to keep the lights off at least at night... or not I'm broad daylight if there's even one in hell

✧ if you fall asleep with lights on and wake up with them off, you can immideitly be sure it was Lucifer. But he meant nothing bad by doing it!

✧ he does his best to support you so if you ever decide to go for some light shopping, he'll sometimes come with you and share his opinion if you ask about it

"Sure, take it. Hm? What do I think about it? It's... a bit too complex for my taste... but I can see it fitting into your room perfectly."

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

@wabatle - come get your scary brother!

✧ once Mammon discovered your unique liking, he first called you a weird human

✧ and then the next day he bought you some lights as a gift

✧ he just has to be a tsundere about it... If you ask him why he got you that gift, he'll just say it's so you won't be whining to him later

"It's just for your weird human obsession! I was simply done with you whining about how much you want it! ... Do you like it tho?"

✧ all you have to do is to mention him what lights you're obsessing on in the moment and first thing he'll do once you part is go buy you them

✧ and if he can't he'll just go to casino to win some money so that he could afford it... which... has 50/50 chance of succeeding...

✧ though if you keep your lights on while sleeping, even some, he'll be grumpy about it and be stubborn to turn them off for the time of sleeping

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

✧ Solomon probably had something similar but only as a phase...

✧ he's human as well so he totally gets from where you're coming from!

✧ honestly, he's actually quite fond of how much lights you stole and finds your room really cozy

✧ at some point, he most likely asked you to help him pick some lights for his room too and didn't had the heart to decline any ideas you seemed so passionate about so he ended up buying whole store

✧ he doesn't really care if you keep lights on or off during the night... as long as he has a way of facing the opposite way than the light, he doesn't mind letting it stay if it helps you sleep

✧ definitely tried making some flying light orb or so, thinking you may like it!

"Hey, I made something for you. What do you think? Is there anything you want added to it?"

✧ overally, he's very supportive and will protect your hobby as best as he can if anyone tries insulting it

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

✧ Simeon is honestly very supportive of any hobby you may have that isn't dangerous to you or anyone for that matter

✧ he's just happy you have a passion, even if it's something simple as collecting lights!

✧ he'll most likely go to all or most of your shopping's just because he loves to see what's the lights you like or want

"Oh? This one? I would've never guessed it's in your taste... But it's good to know! It certainly has its own beauty~"

✧ he'll also try buying or even making a light for you! It doesn't have to be any ocassion... but if it is, he'll probably try extra hard to make it a good one

✧ though if he's making the gift... he'll probably as someone for help since he's afraid of messing something up and would rather have someone who knows more about it than him to watch over what he's doing

✧ he also doesn't really care if you keep the lights on or off at night! His realm is rather bright so he'll fall asleep anyway~

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

@vodka-glrl - come get your soft angel~

[goodlucktai]

Would you maybe do 8 with Leo talking to Usagi? :D

dialogue prompts

8. “Okay. Okay, here’s what we’re gonna do—fuck.”

x

The subway tunnels are dark, half-collapsed, and the purest pitch black. Leonardo’s eyes are hooded white when Usagi sweeps the beam of his penlight towards him. Usagi’s never gotten a straight answer from any of the turtles about what, exactly, they had been genetically modified for in the first place, but he watches Leonardo pass his own light to one of the frightened humans behind him and figures he could add ‘built-in night vision’ to the column of weird abilities he’s seen firsthand proof of. 

The woman takes the light from Leo and passes it to her young daughter, who clutches it like a lifeline. No one from their group makes a sound, hyper-aware that the Krang hounds they barely managed to outrun could make a reappearance at any second. 

“Okay,” Leo says, in that steadfast, fearless tone of voice that made heads swivel from every corner of the room to pay attention when he talked. “Okay, here’s what we’re gonna do—fuck.”

“What?” Usagi blurts, jolting forward. “Leonardo, what?”

He tries to keep the panic out of his voice, for the sake of the humans they had not quite managed to fully save just yet, but he can’t help the way his heart starts to race. Leo doesn’t swear. He never swears. Every time he used to, he would look around guiltily, waiting for his big brother to swoop in out of thin air and scold him— “I don’t care if you’re a hotshot resistance leader,” Raph would say, “you’re still my brat of a baby brother, and I’m still bigger than you.”

But Raph died two years ago, and is no longer around to scold him for it. It didn’t stop Leo’s knee-jerk reaction of looking over his shoulder for him, as if he still might appear. And Usagi knows that hurt him every time. So Leo doesn’t swear. 

For him to break out the big guns, something must really be wrong. Usagi sweeps the light over him, his pulse pounding in his ears, and freezes when he finds what definitely looks like a piece of metal sticking out of Leonardo’s arm. 

Leo tilts away from him, putting the injury in the dark, and says, “Hush, Cottontail. We can’t let the hounds know we’re here.” 

But what was already a tricky situation has become a ticking time bomb. The hounds are nearby, their warbling, high-pitched croons reverberating down the dark tunnels, making it nearly impossible to pinpoint their location by sound. They’ll follow the scent of blood from a quarter of a mile away, like sharks. And Leo’s losing it fast—alarmingly fast. 

He unties his mask from around his eyes and uses his teeth to knot it around his arm instead, tight above the wound. He’s perfunctory and businesslike about it, and when he looks up Usagi knows he’s going to say something horrible.

Sure enough, “I’ll draw them away,” Leonardo says. “Once I do, you get these people to safety. We’re not that far from the safe zone, you’ll make it.”

Only that’s not how it’s going to go. Because Leo’s siblings are waiting for him. Because Mikey still hugs Leo like an octopus any time one of them leaves without the other, every single time, almost thirty years old and made ancient by grief and fear but still very much someone’s baby brother. Because if Usagi goes through with this, he’ll have to look April and Mikey both in the eye when he returns, and he doesn’t have the stomach for that. 

A crooning howl creeps toward them, alarmingly close. The hounds are getting excited, as if they’ve picked up the trail. Usagi shifts one step back, then another. 

Leonardo says, “Don’t. Don’t you dare.” It’s his leader voice, but it doesn’t work on anyone who grew up with him. And they were kids together before the end of the world. 

“Sorry,” he whispers, because he is. If he had a choice, he wouldn’t go. But this—him or Leo—this isn’t a decision that needs to be made. This just is what it is. 

He runs as far as the end of the track, sticks his fingers in his mouth and whistles piercingly, and Leonardo’s stricken face, fuzzy and indistinct just within the range of Usagi’s flashlight, is the last thing he sees before he turns and runs for his life. 

They’ve used these tunnels for training exercises more than once, and that’s the only reason he makes it as far as he does, counting on muscle memory as he sprints and ducks and climbs. He crawls into a pipe just barely big enough for a rabbit yokai, much too small for a Krang hound—but not before he feels the drag of claws in the meat of his calf, not before a cry of pain is wrenched out of him, the immediate sting of the alien toxin setting in like a chemical burn. 

There are four of them screeching and digging at the mouth of the pipe with their horrible hands, and Usagi presses as far back as he can and hopes the metal holds. Hopes Leo got away. Hopes he won’t look over his shoulder for Usagi the way he does for Raph, because that would be—that would be so—

The sun comes out, flooding the tunnel with gold. The hounds shriek and peel away. A familiar, powerful force thrums in the air, like the charge before a lightning strike but consistent. 

Usagi thinks it’s strange to see a sunrise underground, and stranger still to see the sun at all when the sky has been overcast with dust and smoke for years, but it’s nice. It’s warm. 

And then he wakes up, which is super disorienting because he doesn’t remember going to sleep. He’s in the infirmary, the one room in the base guaranteed to have working lights and clean linens. The soft pillow beneath his head feels like a luxury he didn’t do anything special enough to deserve.

There’s a pressure on his hand, and when he looks he discovers Leonardo is holding it while he sleeps on the edge of the bed, slumped forward in his chair. Michelangelo is conked out beside him, his hair doing the funny curly thing it does after he uses too much ninpo, the whole of him blanketed in leftover static electricity. 

On the other side of the bed, April is watching Usagi with brown eyes that see everything. 

“That was close,” she says. “I don’t need to tell you that.”

No, she doesn’t. The memories limp and crawl back, and Usagi rips his eyes away from Leo’s face. He looks stressed even when he’s sleeping. Usagi contributed to those lines under his eyes, the chasm between his brows. It doesn’t feel good to know that. 

“I won’t ask you for a miracle,” April murmurs, “because that isn’t fair. But—it feels like I’m holding onto him by a thread sometimes. And I know Angie isn’t gonna let him out of his sight again for at least a week. Usagi, he can’t lose anybody else, okay? He can’t.”

The distress in her voice triggers something in Usagi that just bleeds, all through his ribcage, all through his heart. 

“I know,” Usagi whispers. He really does know. Donatello’s funeral was three months ago, and it still feels like they’re walking through a minefield. They’re balancing on a tightrope. Leonardo hasn’t laughed once since he buried his other half. 

“So just,” April says, “come home, okay? No matter what, make sure you come home.”

“I promise,” Usagi says, and holds his free hand out to her. She clasps it, and her fingers are human, the shape of them entirely different, but they have had a decade to make the gesture familiar and second nature. She’s his sister, as much as she’s Leo’s and Mikey’s, and Usagi would do anything she asked of him. 

So he keeps that promise for a long time. But he doesn’t keep it forever. 

[blindvogel]

Now that we know the backstory of a Mourn Watch Rook I had to get this written out. The microwave is still rotating.

~~~

Her first memory of him is an old one. It’s a memory of running down marbled hallways, sliding past dignified robed figures who pay her no mind, already used to the precocious child in their midst. To her he stands out because he is new, very tall, and awkward according to her nine-year-old self. She slides to a halt and cranes her neck so she can look up at the gangly newcomer. He has to lean down to hold out his hand so she can take it. They shake, solemnly. “Emmrich Volkarin at your service, young lady.”

She is a teenager with a little too much time on her hands and very little oversight, wandering the Grand Necropolis. Growing up between the bones of the dead and the living tending to them, there is very little that disturbs her. Even less so a Mourn Watcher returning to the surface from a trip below, covered in dust and ectoplasm. He runs his hands over his coat in a futile attempt at being presentable, then inclines his head with a smile. “Miss Ingellvar, what a pleasure.”

She has finally been officially admitted into the ranks of the Mourn Watchers. It means less time on her hands and almost always someone watching over her, in their eyes still the precocious child sliding down marbled hallways. Just not when she is attending one of his lectures, one of the youngest Watchers to be offered the position of a professor. In his lecture hall, she is just another studious Watcher. And he has her full attention.

She is perched in a chair in the library, her knees pulled up to her chin, and her nose in a book but not seeing the letters in front of her. A small pile for further reading balancing precariously on the armrest. Her thoughts are miles away, underneath the city. Which is why he startles her. “Are you quite finished with these?” She uncoils from the chair like a spring, sweeping the books with her and holding them out for him to take. She isn’t going to get anywhere, anyway. “Of course. Here, Professor.” He makes a face, discomfited and a little embarrassed. Still.  “Please, Kamari, I told you there is no need for formality. Call me Emmrich.” She smiles, shakes her head. “Just one more time, Professor.” Then she scurries out of the room. There isn’t another time, not for a long while.

She is making a new memory. Kamari watches him as he sleeps, his silver hair mussed from the previous night, his chest slowly rising and falling. The furrow in his brow has smoothed out for now. Emmrich looks younger in his sleep, untroubled.  After a moment she loses the fight with herself, slowly runs her fingers through his hair. It’s so soft against her skin. The corner of his lips twitches into a crooked smile and then he opens his eyes. They are still a little clouded with sleep but also full of warmth, and she feels her heart stutter in her chest. 

“Good morning, my dear.”

[daddiel-ish]

Boa at the start of the pregnancy: feeling jealous of law, wishing she had luffy child

Boa a bit later seeing law deal with morning sickness, hormones, bacj pain etc: feeling significantly less jealous

Oh well-yes.

Boa romanticized the pregnancy like "Oh, having Luffy's child, this is the truly symbol of love!", not really thinking about what comes with it. Not because she didn’t know it, but it wasn't her first thought either.

Boa remembers hearing, and then seeing, Law crying in Luffy's arms cause "My favorite pants don’t fit me", so weird, Boa thought, seeing Law like that. She remembered when, before Luffy's checkup, she got a glimpse of Law and looked like a ship run over her. "Morning sickness," she said, morning sickness that kept her awake all night, tho.

All of that for what? For a crying baby that would keep her awake every night for the next, idk, 10 years? Now Boa wasn't so sure anymore about all the baby thing. But the way Luffy was always there for Law, always trying to make her laugh when she was crying, helping her with mundane things like helping her with her doctor's tools. Boa had to admit that behavior was strangly adult for Luffy, but it was so romantic, caring for someone like this...she never really experienced that, and maybe was this the thing Boa really envied between them.

They were truly in love. Even tho none of them really took the first step. They were having a baby, and they were nothing still, but this didn't stop them from showing each other what love was for them.

So, more than the kid, Boa wanted what they had, Love, the true one, the one where you don't have to say anything to know that the other person was there to catch you if you'd fall. She envied this... she wanted someone who looked at her the same way Luffy looked at Law when he thought she wasn't paying attention to him.

Boa wanted someone who loved her for the person she really was.

Got carried away. Hope you guys don't mind when I answer like this to your asks (unluckily, i don't always have the time to draw something, and some of your asks inspire me this tiny sketches of fics--)

[slaymitchabernathy]

All in the Timing

Coriolanus Snow is many things.

He’s rich.

He’s successful.

He’s important.

He’s being stared down by a small child right now.

The last one concerns him.

It’s not that he despises children, but he’s never been drawn to them. Perhaps he worries about coming off as creepy, nothing screams ‘child predator’ like handing out candy to children at the zoo. It doesn’t help that he’s a rather large man, well, large in his stature with his broad shoulders and long legs.

But this child, this small little girl is staring him down while he waits for his friend Festus to close their tab at the bar. They’re at one of their favorite restaurants, the Grand Oak and he’s standing near the host stand, doing his best to ignore the little girl.

But she’s hard to ignore.

She has these blue eyes, but they’re not just blue, they have hints of gray in them as well, making her quite the startling child. Whoever her mother is certainly passed down her genetics because this little girl has been blessed with long blonde hair and an adorable face.

She's standing near a group of adults all getting their coats from the coat check so he can only assume she belongs to one of them. She must be very well-behaved if she was brought into an establishment such as this one, known for its fine dining experience.

Someone claps his shoulder and pulls him back into reality, “All closed up Snow.” He rolls his eyes at the nickname that Festus gave him all those years ago as if calling him by his first name is so difficult.

“Let’s hope you paid the correct amount this time,” Coriolanus mumbles, giving Festus a knowing glare. The last time he trusted Festus with a responsibility such as closing their tab, he only paid half and Coriolanus had to come back the next day to pay the rest of it.

But Coriolanus can’t help but look back over at the little girl who’s still watching him, Festus now on her radar. Festus who has an infant son waiting for him at home grins and gives her a wave, “Oh, she’s so cute. You know, it’s never too late to settle down and start a family Snow.”

Coriolanus shakes his head, it sounds nice but starting a family means finding someone to love him unconditionally and that seems impossible.

He offers the girl a small smile, hoping he doesn’t frighten the child but she visibly perks up and smiles back.

“Ceraphina darling, let’s put on your coat.”

A gentle, feminine voice from the group of adults draws the little girl's attention away from Coriolanus and Festus and she turns around to face one of the most beautiful women Coriolanus has ever seen.

This woman is undoubtedly her mother. With her long blonde hair that falls down to her waist, her tan complexion, and her rosy pink lips. She’s gorgeous.

And she’s holding a miniature version of the pink coat she’s wearing, so she and her daughter can match.

The little girl's face lights up as her mother crouches down to help her into the coat and she leans in, tapping her mother's shoulder and whispering something that causes her mother to tilt her head to hear her better.

Coriolanus can only imagine what the child says but a moment later, he’s got two pairs of blue-gray eyes looking up at him.

The woman offers him a small, polite smile before rising to her full height once again, wrapping her coat around her frame and taking her daughter’s hand, “Let’s go, darling.”

She offers him a small nod, out of sheer politeness no doubt and her daughter gives him a wave, which makes him chuckle, she is a rather sweet child.

Their entire group slowly makes their way out into the cold winter night and the last man in the group looks somewhat familiar to him. He’s got brown hair and glasses hanging onto the bridge of his nose for dear life as he wraps a winter scarf around his neck.

He says a word of goodbye to the hostess behind Coriolanus and Festus and their eyes meet for a moment, leading Coriolanus to wonder even more where he’s seen this man before.

“He looked familiar,” he says to Festus once the lobby is empty, “have we met him before?”

Festus shrugs, pulling out a cigar, “We’ve met lots of people,” he tells Coriolanus, helping with nothing,” maybe he was in one of our quarterly meetings.”

Coriolanus nods but doesn’t quite believe him, “Maybe.”

꧁ ꧂

“I’m afraid we don’t have this in your size in this department Mr. Snow.”

Coriolanus can’t stop the frown from growing across his face when given that disappointing news. He’s shopping for a new pair of leather shoes and apparently, it’s hard to find a size ten these days.

He sighs, shaking his head, “It’s fine. Don’t worry abo—“

“But we do have one pair of shoes in the women’s department according to our system. I guess someone left them down there by mistake,” the associate interjects, giving him that customer service smile that he truly despises.

Coriolanus clears his throat, he hasn’t ever gone up to the women’s section but there’s a first time for everything. “Alright. I’ll head up there.”

It’s a short ride on the escalator and Coriolanus is blown away at how much more there is on this floor compared to the men’s. Racks and racks of clothes, a whole makeup department.

A complete step up from the men’s department.

But he’s not here to linger. He’s here to get his shoes.

He makes his way toward the shoe section of the store, passing by several beautifully wrapped gift boxes since the holiday season is upon them once again.

He’s surprised at how empty it is up here, only a few women can be seen milling around the clothing racks but the shoe section is wide open. Right next to the children’s section.

He approaches the associate who immediately perks up once she lays eyes on him, “Mr. Snow?”

“That’s me,” he nods, “I was told there were some shoes in my size up here.”

“Yes sir. Let me go get them for you.”

Coriolanus thanks the woman before she disappears into the back room and he’s left alone once again, this time feeling a bit out of place right next to all the baby clothes. They’re all so tiny, adorned with ruffles and bows.

He reaches out to touch a small dress made for an infant when a voice startles him, “Hi!”

He looks all around him, unable to find where the voice came from until he hears a giggle. “I’m down here.”

Coriolanus can’t hide his disbelief when he looks down to find the same little girl he saw at the Grand Oak looking up at him, a bright smile on her face, swinging her arms back and forth.

“Hello,” he gets out, taking a cautious step back. Her mother must be around here somewhere, probably shopping. “I remember you,” the little girl continues, taking a step toward him, “you have blue eyes like me.”

Coriolanus wants to point out that she has more gray in her eyes than blue but she’s already talking about something else, “Why are you on this floor? My Mommy says this floor is for girls and you’re not a girl.” She looks him up and down suspiciously as if she’s making sure he’s not a freakishly tall woman in disguise.

Coriolanus scratches the back of his neck, he’s never met such an outgoing child before, “I came up here to get some shoes that should’ve been in the men’s department,” he explains, “I wasn’t aware that I’d be in a ladies presence.”

The little girl lights up at his comment, considering her a lady, “I’m five years old,” she tells him proudly, “and I’m gonna be five and a half in January.”

Coriolanus raises his eyebrows, seemingly impressed, “Well that’s a very smart age to be.”

“Mhm. It is. I get to see my friends tomorrow at scho—“

“Ceraphina!”

Both Coriolanus and Ceraphina jump when her mother appears, flushed in the face, “What did I tell you about talking to strangers?”

Ceraphina clasps her hands behind her back and looks down at the floor, doing her best to look guilty, “You said not to Mommy.”

Her mother nods, placing a hand on top of her head, “That’s right. You can’t run off and go talking to people you don’t know.”

Ceraphina scrunches her face and looks up at her mother, her eyes wide and pleading, “But I do know him, Mommy. He was at the restaurant, remember?” She points right at Coriolanus which means he’s not getting out of this unscathed.

Her mother’s eyes travel up his body, and he must say, she looks even prettier during the daytime. He can see that she has freckles all over her face, making her eyes pop even more.

“I do remember,” she murmurs, brushing her hair behind her ears, “but that doesn’t mean you can just run off without telling me, darling.”

Coriolanus doesn’t want her to get in trouble, even though she did run off. She seems like a sweet child. “I do apologize,” he says, “I remembered both of you from the other night. I assumed you’d be within a safe distance from her but I shouldn’t have engaged in any conversation.”

Ceraphina’s mother looks him up and down, she’s on guard, protecting her baby from this strange man. “No need to apologize,” she finally says, pulling Ceraphina towards her, “I remember you as well. I’m sorry if she was bothering you.”

Coriolanus shakes his head, offering her a kind smile, “She’s not a bother at all.”

Ceraphina looks at her mother triumphantly, “See Mommy? I’m not a bother at all.”

Her mother sighs and shakes her head, “We should get going, we have to stop by your grandfather's office before we go home.”

Coriolanus wants to ask for her name, ask who her father is, and if it’s the gentlemen he saw the other night with her group but they’re all interrupted by the sales associate who chose the worst time to show back up.

“Here are your shoes, Mr. Snow!”

A wave of recognition washes over Ceraphina’s mother’s face but she doesn’t say anything further before they both walk off, Ceraphina looking over her shoulder to wave goodbye.

He waves back because who doesn’t wave back at a five-year-old? But he can’t help but watch them as they go, watch how her mother holds Ceraphina’s hand as they walk onto the escalator, reassuring her that it’s safe.

They’re both wrapped up in their winter coats again, this time both of them are light blue, bringing out their eyes. They’re practically twins which makes him wonder who her husband is. He must know the man from somewhere. He should’ve asked. That would be less creepy than asking who her father is.

“Mr. Snow?”

“Hmm? Oh, yes the shoes. I’ll take them.”

It seems as if fate led him to run into those two again, so he can only hope that the third times the charm.

꧁ ꧂

꧁ Two Weeks Later ꧂

This meeting is taking forever.

Coriolanus drums his fingers against the long mahogany table, somewhat listening to Urban Canville while he drones on and on about meeting quotas and whatnot.

Coriolanus looks over at Festus whose head is tilted back, mouth wide open while he sleeps. Coriolanus wishes he could sleep right now, but with his luck, he'll get caught out. Festus has a knack for getting out of trouble.

"And that," Urban says, slapping the table with his hand, waking up Festus in the process, "is how we're going to be the most successful firm next year." Festus blinks several times, pulling at his necktie, "Yes, yes, good spirits and whatnot for the new year," he mumbles, getting a few nodding heads from their other colleagues.

Ubran smiles, pleased that this meeting has gone so well for him since he was promoted, "Exactly Festus. Now, don't forget about the holiday party, plus ones are allowed but keep the drinking to a limit," he eyes Festus who holds his hands up in surrender, "Someone has to be the life of the party," Festus counters.

Coriolanus rolls his eyes, Festus just loves being the center of attention, let alone the party.

Urban doesn't look too convinced, but he dismisses them and Coriolanus is the first one out the door. He's got to finish his yearly report before he can mentally clock out for the rest of the holiday season. He knows Festus will procrastinate and do it at the last second, but Coriolanus prides himself on being timely and dependable.

"Well that took forever," Festus grumbles, meeting him at the end of the hallway, "someone should introduce him to bullet points because that meeting was the entire essay." Coriolanus grins as they round a corner, leading them to the lobby of the fifth floor where the elevators and receptionist desk are located.

The lobby has been decorated for the holidays with garlands and fake pine trees, making the atmosphere more lively. Coriolanus spots the receptionist talking to someone on the phone animatedly, all while glancing over her desk. He frowns, wondering what's gotten her so worked up.

Maybe someone delivered a package to the wrong floor, that's happened before and it's always a mess trying to get it to the right place. But as Coriolanus and Festus round the desk, they come face to face with Ceraphina. Again.

This must be fate.

She brightens up when she sees two familiar faces, Coriolanus more specifically.

"Hello!"

This girl has clearly never met a stranger before.

Coriolanus grins down at her, "Hello, fancy seeing you here."

Ceraphina nods, glancing back at the receptionist who's still rattling off information on the phone, "My grandfather works here," she tells him proudly, putting her hands on her hips. She's wearing a pink dress with long sleeves and little white boots with a pink bow in her hair.

Coriolanus raises his eyebrows and glances at Festus who seems interested as well as to who her grandfather is. "And who might that be?" Festus asks, leaning forward to hear her better. The receptionist sets the phone down loudly, causing all three of them to jump, "She's Glen Nightingale's granddaughter," the woman says with a sigh, "I don't know how she got down here but he's been looking for her everywhere."

Glen Nightingale.

He should've known her grandfather was one of the head owners of the firm. He's practically in the presence of greatness, even if the greatness is only five years old, riding on five and a half.

"How did you get down here?" Coriolanus asks her, knowing that the most important people work on the very top floor. He would know since he works on the floor below them, so close to being at the top.

Ceraphina giggles and bounces on her toes, "I took the elevenator."

Festus chuckles, "You mean the elevator?"

She scrunches her face, shaking her head, "That's what I just said."

"Well, Miss Ceraphina, it seems that I have to take you up to your grandfather's office," the receptionist says with a sigh, acting as if she's so burdened by this responsibility suddenly. Coriolanus chews on his bottom lip a moment before finally making up his mind, "I can take her."

Ceraphina quickly nods and reaches up for his hand, taking it without hesitation, "Yes! He works on the tippy-top floor, it's very high up in the clouds."

Coriolanus nods along while they walk towards the elevator, ignoring the smirk he's getting from Festus. Ceraphina waves goodbye to the receptionist before the doors close, "I can press the button!" She says, swatting away at his hand when he goes to press it.

"You wouldn't happen to be taking her so that you can run into her mother again would you?" Festus whispers, nudging Coriolanus with his elbow, earning him a sharp look from Coriolanus. He made the mistake of telling Festus about his encounter with Glen Nightingale's daughter and granddaughter in the department store the other week and now Festus is convinced that it's a sign.

It would be if Ceraphina's mother wasn't married with a child.

"I'm simply being a good-hearted samaritan, looking to spread some holiday cheer," he replies, looking straight ahead to ignore any teasing looks he might get from Festus.

Festus only scoffs before the doors slide open, letting them out on the top floor. "Can we go again?" Ceraphina asks, tugging on his hand. Coriolanus shakes his head although it's hard to tell her no to anything when she gives him those pleading eyes, batting her eyelashes up at him. How do people ever say no to their children?

"We better find your grandfather's office," he tells her, leading them through the lobby and down the hall. He looks over at the large painting hanging on the left wall, every founder of the company is pictured with a stern-looking face. Glen Nightingale's face looks down on them as they pass by, making Coriolanus feel a little bit nervous about this plan of his now that they're nearing the end.

He hopes that Glen is nice, that he's not some asshole who thinks of himself as being better than everyone else. He at least must love his grandaughter if he brought her with him to work today.

"Ooo, danish delights," Festus says, beelining for the breakroom, "I'll catch up with you later."

Coriolanus needn't be told twice.

Nothing sounds worse than Festus trying to crack a joke with Glen Nightingale, the man who writes their paychecks every two weeks so Coriolanus doesn't fight him on it.

"Do you know my grandfather?" Ceraphina asks him, taking three steps for every step he takes. Coriolanus nods, doing his best to remain calm, cool, and collected, "I do. Well, I know of him," he corrects himself, not needing her to repeat false information, "I work for him."

Ceraphina hums, starting to skip instead of walking down the hall of the most important offices in the entire building, "Lots of people now my grandfather. Mommy says it's because of his job."

Coriolanus wonders if he might run into her mother again, probably not. "Yes, he's a well-known face in the Capitol," he agrees.

They finally reach the end of the hall, coming to a stop in front of the ominous doors that lead to Glen Nightingale's office. Coriolanus braces himself to know, raising up his other hand but Ceraphina beats him to it, shoving the doors open like she owns the place.

"I'm back!"

Coriolanus stays planted in the hallway while Ceraphina prances into the office, her grandfather watching her from behind his large desk. A wall of windows is behind him, giving Coriolanus a gorgeous view of the Capitol skyline. "Where'd you run off to this time sweetheart?" Glen asks, peering over the rim of his glasses at his granddaughter who happily runs around his desk to give him a hug.

It's a sweet sight to witness the important and powerful Glen Nightingale picking his granddaughter up and swooping her into his lap, tickling her and making her laugh. "I went downstairs," she giggles, pushing his glasses further up his nose, "they have a Christmas tree in the lobby downstairs, why don't you have one on your floor?"

Glen smiles, brushing some of her hair out from her face, "I'll have them set a tree up tonight. It'll be here the next time you come and visit, how does that sound?"

"Perfect!"

Glen's attention is finally drawn to Coriolanus who feels so fucking awkward watching this interaction that is a very private one. Many things can be said about Glen Nightingale from a business perspective, but no one really knows anything about his private life.

"And who might you be? Not another grandchild I hope, you're far too old to be running around my building."

Coriolanus grins and Ceraphina gasps, shaking her head and tugging on Glen's shoulder, "He's not your grandchild! I'm your grandchild! He works here," she points at Coriolanus, "we saw him at the restaurant remember?"

Glen seems to remember that short-lived interaction and he nods, "Yes, I do recall seeing your face that night. Snow isn't it?"

Coriolanus can't believe this man knows who he is, even if it's only by his last name. That's a step up in his book. "Yes sir. Coriolanus Snow."

Ceraphina wiggles out of Glen's lap, running over to a small seating area where there are all sorts of dolls and stuffed animals laid out over the rug and furniture, "The receptionist on the fifth floor was going to bring her here but I offered to do it instead. I hope you don't mind."

Glen waves him in, an offer Coriolanus gladly accepts once he closes the doors behind him, "Nonesne," Glen says, shaking his head, "you're a man who takes initiative, a man who remembers faces and looks out for those who are in trouble. Although my little Ceraphina is rarely ever in trouble."

Ceraphina looks over her shoulder at him, her eyes lit up with excitement, "Mhm, I'm very well behaved." Both men chuckle and Glen rises from his chair, "And very modest too."

Coriolanus watches her play with her dolls, in her own little world really. "She's very well-mannered," he tells Glen, "I've never met such a confident child, especially a young lady." Most little girls he's come across have hidden behind their parent's legs, not wanting to talk to him at all and he can't really blame them, he's not the most approachable-looking man with his stern face.

But Ceraphina doesn't seem to think so.

Glen stops next to him, both of them watching his granddaughter play," Yes," he agrees, "she's very extroverted. It's my daughter who's the shy one, makes me wonder where Ceraphina got all her spunk."

Before Coriolanus can ask where exactly Glen's daughter is, the doors fly open, this time it's a taller blonde with blue-gray eyes opening them, "You found her?"

It's Ceraphina's mother, panting which means she probably ran to get here. She looks flustered, and she clearly didn't expect to see Coriolanus standing in her father's office, "Coriolanus here found her," Glen says, patting Coriolanus on the shoulder while he tries to look like he's not kissing up to her father.

"Oh thank goodness," she says, rushing past both of them to get to Ceraphina who smiles up at her, oblivious to how many people have probably been looking for her. "Mommy, can we go get lunch now?"

Her mother nods, looking back over at Coriolanus for a moment before crouching down to be at eye level with her daughter, "You can't run off like that darling," she says softly, holding Ceraphina's face in her hands, "someone else could've found you and taken you. That's why I tell you not to talk to strangers, you're all I have."

Coriolanus frowns, all she has?

"She's perfectly safe here Soarynn," Glen says to his daughter.

Soarynn, what a beautiful name.

Soarynn sighs, shaking her head, "You don't know that," she tells her father, standing back up and walking over to them, "he's not going to be there every time she runs off," she gestures towards Coriolanus, "and your secretary isn't being paid to watch after her either."

Well, this is awkward.

Coriolanus takes this as an opportunity to admire how Soarynn looks today, with her hair pulled back in a ponytail, her outfit today is a gray dress, fitting her perfectly at the waist and stopping above the ankle.

"I don't think we've formally met," he says, reaching out his hand to her, "I'm Coriolanus Snow."

Soarynn looks at his hand, not immediately taking it which makes him feel so stupid but she finally takes it and he can't help but notice how small her hand is, how soft and dainty it feels in his large hand.

"I'm sorry we have to keep meeting like this," she says, pulling her hand from his, and Coriolanus is quick to shake his head, "Don't be. There's worse people to constantly be running into."

Stupid, stupid, he chides himself, why did he have to word it like that?

But it seems that Glen Nightingale is on his own agenda because he places his hand on Soarynn's shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze, "Perhaps you two could arrange a meeting, like over dinner, lit by candlelight."

Soarynn scoffs, giving her father a nasty glare, "I don't think Coriolanus is inter-"

"Well you never know until you ask honey," Glen cuts her off, "and I don't see a ring on his finger. You're not married are you Coriolanus?"

He feels...caught for some reason but Coriolanus quickly shakes his head, flashing the father-daughter-duo a smile, "No sir. I'm free as a bird."

Glen hums, "See? It's as easy as that."

Soarynn looks desperate to get out of this conversation, slapping her father's hand away, "It's not as easy at that," she tells him, "and I think we're going to go to lunch. We'll see you at home."

Glen doesn't fight her on it, simply watching Soarynn help Ceraphina gather all her toys into a bag before putting on their coats, "Goodbye!" Ceraphina says, running over to give her grandfather a hug. Glen kneels down, groaning when she throws her arms around her neck, "Goodbye my girl, enjoy lunch and be good for your mother."

Ceraphina smiles, placing a kiss on his cheek, "I will!"

She looks up at Coriolanus a bit unsure of how to say goodbye to him, "Thanks for rescuing me." Coriolanus chuckles, he'd hardly consider that rescuing but he's glad she sees it that way, "It was my pleasure," he tells her.

Ceraphina is out the door before anyone can say another word, that girl is a little busybody if he's ever seen one. Soarynn sighs, offering him a polite smile, "Thank you for bringing her back."

"Of course."

He hoped she might say a little bit more but Soarynn Nightingale is a woman of few words apparently because she turns to her father, giving him a kiss on the cheek before promising to see him at home, and just like that, she's gone.

The office seems much more empty now that it's just the two of them.

"You have a beautiful family," Coriolanus tells Glen, and he means it too. If his family ever ends up being half as lovely as Glens, he'll consider himself a successful man. Glen grins, pushing his glasses back up his nose once again, "Thank you. I'm very lucky to have both girls in my life. I do apologize for trying to set you up on a date with my daughter, she's just so shy and you seem like a good man Coriolanus Snow."

Those words mean more than Glen could ever know, but Coriolanus doesn't let it show, simply nodding, "Thank you, sir, I try to be."

He really does, and he's going to make it his new mission to find out more about Soarynn Nightingale.

꧁ ꧂

"It says here that Glen Nightingale's wife died twenty-four years ago."

Coriolanus frowns when he hears what Festus has found during their "research session." If he can even call it that. They're both sitting in his study at home, nursing glasses of whiskey. Festus needed to get out of the house and away from his crying son, and Coriolanus needed an assistant to help him find out more about the Nightingales.

It worked out for both of them.

"Soarynn looked to be around twenty-four," he mumbles, flipping through old newspapers, "so that could mean that..."

He doesn't want to finish his sentence, doesn't want to suggest that it could mean that Mrs. Nightingale died during childbirth, much like his own mother when trying to give birth to his little sister.

"It says she died giving birth to their only daughter, Soarynn Nightingale. Wow you were right, she is very pretty. Anyways, it says he has one grandchild, Ceraphina Nightingale, but I can't find anything else about Soarynn."

He already knows that. What he wants to know is where is Ceraphina's father? He's clearly not in the picture if Glen is trying to set Soarynn up with dates, but Soarynn seemed so withdrawn from the idea. Repulsed even, and he took that personally.

"It doesn't say anything about a father?"

"Nope. But maybe she never got married since she still has her maiden name."

Or she's divorced, Coriolanus thinks, flipping through more articles.

Festus sighs, stretching in his armchair, "I mean, think about it, if Ceraphina is five, and Soarynn is twenty-four, then that means she had her when she was nineteen. And no one from a prominent family like hers is just having kids on purpose at nineteen. I think it was wedlock."

Coriolanus frowns, that actually might make sense, which is terrible.

"But then she would be married," he counters, "if she did get pregnant by accident, the families would have them get married before announcing the pregnancy to cover it up and there's no way they'd allow for a divorce."

When you're in a prominent family such as the Snows, the Nightingales, or the Creeds, divorce is a recipe for disaster. No one gets divorced unless there's a case of abuse.

If Soarynn did get married out of wedlock, she'd have a ring on her finger.

"She still lives with her father," Festus points out, "so maybe she did get divorced but they just covered it up really well."

Maybe, but that still seems unlikely.

Coriolanus groans and grabs another stack of newspapers, "No, it has to be something else. Glen wouldn't be that...passive and encouraging if that was the case. He was trying to set us up on a date, what type of father does that if his daughter had a baby out of wedlock and then turned around to get divorced?"

Festus shrugs, "A terrible one," he jokes, not getting a single laugh out of Coriolanus who merely rolls his eyes in response. Coriolanus keeps going through newspapers, searching for something, anything.

Then he lands on a tragic page. A page mentioning a terrible car accident, with no survivors.

"What're you looking at? Oh, I remember that, poor Felix," Festus says, shaking his head, "can't believe it's been five years since he passed."

Coriolanus slams his hand on the desk, "THAT'S IT!"

Festus topples out of his chair, hitting the floor with a loud thud.

"Felix Ravenstill was seeing a girl before the accident, remember? And she had just graduated from the Academy, he said she was very pretty but very shy. He also said her dad was as rich as his dad, but that doesn't matter. But right before the accident, he started getting really nervous, remember? He was always on edge, always leaving lectures to go talk to someone on the phone."

Festus groans from his spot on the floor, rubbing his head, "So what? You think he was courting Soarynn and got her pregnant?"

Coriolanus nods, pacing back and forth now that he's putting the pieces back together, "Yes, I remember seeing the Glen at the funeral, but Soarynn wasn't there. I would've remembered seeing her there. Oh it makes perfect sense, he got her pregnant, and before they could do anything about it he cr-"

"He died," Festus says, cutting him off, "leaving her pregnant and alone to raise their baby. At least Ceraphina looks like her mother because Felix wasn't very good-looking if you can remember."

Coriolanus scoffs, barely thinking about Felix any more. He can't believe he put the pieces together. Well, he thinks he put the pieces together, but he's not entirely sure. The Nightingales and the Ravenstills must have agreed to keep it a secret due to how tragic of a loss it already was.

How sad, he can’t imagine being so young and having to raise a child alone. At least she’s rich. And her father seems very supportive, not holding it against her at all.

Festus finally peels himself off the floor, dusting off his pants for good measures, “I say we quit our day jobs and invest in a mystery-solving business,” he proposes, “except we don’t solve any real crimes because people who go poking their noses into things like that always wind up dead. But rich housewife drama? It’s perfect! I can see it now: ‘Creed & Snow Investigations’!”

Coriolanus rolls his eyes, “My last name would come first, and we’re not quitting our day jobs.”

He can’t quit for many reasons but the most important reason right now is to learn more about the woman he can't seem to get out of his head. He's just got to play his cards right.

꧁ ꧂

"Have you seen the guest list for the holiday party yet?"

"No, do you have it?"

"Yes! Some of these men aren't even bringing their wives!"

Coriolanus pretends to be very interested in his cup of coffee while eavesdropping on the conversation between two secretaries from two separate floors. If he can sneak a look at the guest list, he can find out if Soarynn is coming to the holiday party.

He just has to get his hands on the list.

Which is why he's planned a distraction. And it should be going off any minute now...

"I'M HURT! OH, I'M HURT! CALL A MEDIC! CALL AN AMBULANCE! OH DON'T TAKE ME YET! I HAVE A WIFE AND CHILD AND GOODNESS KNOWS MY WIFE CAN'T WORK MORE THAN TWO HOURS WITHOUT COMPLAINING ABOUT IT! OH, SOMEONE HELP! SOMEONE LIKE A SECRETARY!"

Coriolanus should've asked someone else to be the distraction.

But both secretaries are running out of the breakroom in seconds to find out who's causing all this racket, and they're going to be pissed when they see that it's Festus.

But Coriolanus doesn't have a moment to waste, he crosses the breakroom in seconds, grabbing the papers that have every guest written down in neat, printed letters. He scans through the papers, his hopes slowly dwindling when he doesn't see Soarynn's name.

He flips to the last page and has to hold in a dramatic gasp. Because there it is.

'Soarynn Nightingale.'

He figured Glen would bring her but one can never be too sure. But now he knows and he's got to show up looking irresistible.

He sets the papers back down where he found them and not a moment too soon because the secretaries are walking back in a second later, grumbling and shaking their heads.

Coriolanus feigns a look of concern, "Is everything alright? Who was injured?"

The secretary who works on his floor, Constance rolls her eyes and grabs the papers, "It was Mr. Creed who was screaming like a small child."

"What happened? Is he alright?"

Constance scoffs and shakes her head, "He had a paper cut. I don't get paid enough to put up with this."

Coriolanus does his best to conceal his smirk, he didn't know what lie Festus would come up with, but a papercut sounds about right. "Oh, I forgot to ask but will you be bringing anyone to the holiday party Mr. Snow?"

Coriolanus shakes his head, acting nonchalant, "Nope. Just me, myself and I."

But he's hoping to change that.

| Part 1. |

| tumblr oneshot/drabble |

[somedaylazysomeday]

Good Intentions Part Twenty-Five

Ongoing Silco x fem!reader fic (no reader description, no use of 'Y/N')

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 4,800

Warnings: Fear, insecurity, break-in, threats to personal safety, mob mentality, time skips, guns, bludgeoning weapons, veiled threats, references to sex as a form of payment, drug references, mentions of previous bribery

Previous | Next | Masterlist

---

You were woken by the sound of bells ringing. 

There was no bell system at the Haven for patients to alert that they needed attention - though in the part of your mind that wasn’t focused on getting dressed, it wasn’t a bad idea - so that wasn’t what had launched you out of bed before you had fully woken up. 

No, the bells were the temporary, low-cost security system you had put into place when Silco had pulled his guards away from the Haven. 

Since Silco had decided to use the knowledge of your connection to destroy your life, you had never been sure what the security guards were there to do. Were they a parting gift, meant to console you as you adjusted to a less-protected life in the Undercity? Were they meant to keep an eye on you and report back to Silco? Were they just waiting until the most devastating possible moment to leave? 

It was your best guess that the last possibility was closest to the truth. HexTech had taken over financial support of the Haven after most of the other donors had withdrawn their contributions, but they were a young company. They didn’t have the money to support themselves and pay for external expenses like security guards. You had just been thrilled to be funded, so you had agreed to those terms. 

A little over a week later, Silco had pulled his security guards from the Haven. 

One of the two in-house doctors had resigned the next day. His safety could not be guaranteed without guards. The other doctor had stayed, but he was running himself ragged trying to help all the patients through withdrawal alone.

The original Haven staff would have been able to help - most of them had seen enough to function as makeshift medics when absolutely necessary - but they had long since left. The scandal of you accepting donations from Silco had been too much for most of them, and the others hadn’t been able to handle the increased stress of the new workload. 

In short, the Haven was still afloat, but you were left trying to cover large gaps in staffing, services, and security. Hence the bells. 

You had installed bells over every external door to the Haven, plus a few trip wires and pressure plates that would ring a bell in your room if they were set off. Residents and the new staff knew where the wires and plates were so they could avoid activating them. It wasn’t a particularly elegant system, but it was enough for you to know when someone was in the Haven who didn’t belong there. 

As was currently the case. 

A baseball bat was your only protection as you moved down the stairs as quietly as possible. There was a dim light coming from under the door in the front room, the door slightly ajar. That was what had set off the bells in your room, then. 

With the baseball bat up and over your shoulder, you gently toed the door open and stepped inside. 

You halted almost immediately, startled by the way you had been greeted by name. “Yi? Fletcher?” 

Fletcher had rushed toward you, handsome face happy, but he paused before he got within touching distance of you. “Are you okay? What’s with the bat?” 

“We don’t have security anymore,” you explained shortly. “Never knew when someone is going to break in.” 

“That’s why we’re here,” Yi explained. “The lack of security, not to break in.” 

Your tired brain was struggling to make sense of that. “What-? What does that mean?” 

“Can we sit down?” a vaguely familiar young man requested. You hadn’t spotted him behind Yi and Fletcher, but he seemed to be the last member of the group.

Wordlessly, you motioned them through the door into the kitchen, then followed them inside as they sat at the small table at one side of the room. 

“We heard the Haven doesn’t have security anymore,” Yi explained. “We all wanted to come back and help out.” 

“Why?” you asked, helpless to disguise the suspicion in your voice. 

The familiar man glanced at Yi and Fletcher, then spoke. “I don’t know if you remember me, ma’am. I was part of the security detail that Silco assigned to the Haven.” 

You secrets had been laid bare, exposed before the entirety of Piltover, but you still cringed at the casual way he announced your connection to Silco. “Yes, I remember you. You were fairly new. I don’t know if I ever met you officially.” 

“Okkan,” he volunteered, offering his hand for you to shake. “Nice to officially meet you, then.” 

“Likewise, as long as Silco didn’t send you so he could have someone inside of the Haven,” you countered, voice a little too sharp to be considered polite.

Okkan’s face grew grave. “It’s too late for that. He’s had people here all along. If you haven’t seen him here yet, it’s because he hasn’t wanted you to.” 

Fletcher touched gentle fingertips to Okkan’s arm. “That’s probably not as helpful as you meant it to be.” 

With a sheepish grimace, Okkan nodded. “I’m sorry, that was supposed to prove that you can trust me. My point is, Silco has no reason to send me here as a plant since he already has people doing that. I don’t work for him anymore.”

“Then why are you here?” 

Okkan shrugged. “This is the right thing to do.” 

You hummed suspiciously, glancing at Fletcher and Yi. “And you two?” 

“I need to make sure my boyfriend doesn’t die fighting off anyone who might attack the Haven,” Fletcher told you. Yi and Okkan both snorted - Fletcher’s skills with combat were as limited as everyone else’s, but augmented with a rich vein of jumpiness and a hatred of blood and dirt. 

Yi answered your question with ease, offering it as soon as your eyes rested on her. “I like an underdog.” 

You sighed, trying to bury the surge of relief coursing through you. It wasn’t fair to take advantage of them. At least, unless they specifically knew what they were agreeing to. 

“If you’re looking for a fight, there are good odds you’ll find it here,” you warned. “Silco has made it clear that he considers the Haven a detriment to his plans for the Undercity. I haven’t seen any signs of an attack yet, but the fact that he pulled the security guards away from here is hardly a good sign. I need to know that you’re aware of the dangers of being here. More importantly, that you know the dangers of being on my side. 

“We all know,” Yi assured you. “Okkan was very blunt about the things he saw as part of Silco’s crew.” 

“More importantly, we know you,” Fletcher insisted. “You were always good to everyone, even those who didn’t deserve it. That’s worth something, even if everyone in the city seems to have forgotten it.” 

You nodded. It seemed like the safest choice. You didn’t trust your voice not to crack if you tried to speak. 

By the time you had stood from your chair and crossed to the door, you had recovered enough to say, “You’re welcome to stay, then. Pick any rooms in the employee quarters. Most of it is empty, so you have options. Goodnight. Thank you.” 

—

Unfortunately, the new arrivals didn’t have to wait long for the fight you had promised. 

The break-in happened at night. You had always suspected that it would - after all, that was the time of day when the Undercity residents were the most active. 

The chiming of the bells was desperate and chaotic, nearly masked by the scuffing feet you could hear throughout the first floor of the building. You had been awake late, sacrificing hours of sleep in favor of writing grant requests and reports for the few grants you had left. The Haven’s progress had slowed significantly since your association with Silco had been made public, and you were struggling to frame the work you had done in the most positive light possible. 

You had drilled every resident of the Haven with what the sound of the bells meant. All the doors on the lower floors were locked when you ran down the stairs, clenching the grip of your bat in your fist. If even one of the residents managed to remember what you had taught them to do, they were trying to contact the Enforcers.

There were more intruders than you could hope to take on alone. Getting an accurate count was impossible in the gloom, but you counted at least eight. They saw you immediately, watching as you came to a stop a few stairs above the ground floor. 

You cleared your throat, letting the bat dangle at your side. “What do you want?” 

“Shimmer.” 

The answer - called from somewhere in the crowd - made you snort rudely. “You seem to have missed the fact that this is an anti-Shimmer establishment.” 

“Addictions are treated with microdoses of the drug,” one of them pointed out. “We’re here for any Shimmer you have.” 

“Well-informed,” you noted. “Except that Shimmer addictions can’t be treated with the drug. It takes over the central nervous system, even in small amounts. There is no Shimmer here, microdoses or otherwise.” 

“Then maybe we’ll tear this place down,” another threatened. “That’ll send a message to Silco.” 

Your heart was in your throat, but you did your best to keep it from being too obvious. “And why would you do that? In case you hadn’t heard, Silco doesn’t have anything to do with this place. Not anymore.” 

“No, but he did.” One woman stepped forward, eyeing you suspiciously. “The Shimmer left this place all at once. It was right around when Silco gave you that money. I think that’s important. It means something.” 

You stared at her. “You are too smart to waste your mind on Shimmer. But no, it doesn’t mean anything. Silco bribed me with money. He didn’t need to get rid of Shimmer to bribe me a second time.” 

“Silco is part of this place,” a large man told you. “Either he hates you and wants it destroyed or he still cares and losing it would make him weak.” 

“You should probably figure out whether you’re trying to give the drug lord a gift or a threat before you do it,” you warned, tightening your grip on the bat. “He’s erratic at the best of times, and you might not like the reaction you get.” 

From the dissatisfied murmur of the crowd, that was a valid point, but one they didn’t want to acknowledge. You weren’t sure how to proceed. Letting them tear down the Haven wasn’t an option, but telling them to leave might be the thing that pushed them into violence. 

The decision was taken away from you when someone grabbed the baseball bat, using it to tow you forward. You stumbled down the stairs, catching yourself only to be pulled into the depths of the crowd. The baseball bat was ripped away from you almost immediately, thrown to clatter across the room. 

Immediately, there were shouts of encouragement to kill you. Your pulse was roaring in your ears and you struggled to hear past it. The crowd seemed to agree that Silco may or may not care about the Haven, but he certainly didn’t seem to like you. 

You tried to free yourself - it would be stupid not to, when they were audibly planning your death. But there were so many hands. Hands on your hips, hands on your waist, hands on your arms. All of them gripped you tightly, leaving bruises in your skin. You could only hope you would live long enough for them to heal. 

“Kill her,” the large man ordered. He was the loudest, which you assumed made him some kind of authority in a crowd like this. “Everyone else, strip this place for anything you can find. Burn the rest.” 

“Should she die fast?” the woman who had spoken earlier asked. The way her eyes studied you sent a chill up your spine. “Or slow?” 

“Slow.” 

The hands squeezed tighter, trying to lead you deeper into the Haven. You fought them, squirming and kicking as you shouted for them to leave you alone. 

“Let her go!” 

Yi’s voice was the sweetest thing you had ever heard. A close second was when she swung your confiscated bat into the knee of the group’s leader.

He screamed in pain, dropping to the floor. One of the people holding you glared up at Yi. “You can’t fight all of us. Not and win.” 

“We aren’t looking for a fight,” Okkan countered. You searched around the room for a moment before you found him standing in front of the door that led to the residents’ rooms. “Between the three of us, we can stop any hope of whatever you all planned to do.” 

For a wild moment, you thought he was counting you as one of the three people who would stop the fight, but you were still held firmly in place. Okkan nodded toward the stairs and you saw Fletcher there, holding another gun. 

Yi brandished her bat, holding it over her shoulder as if ready to take her next swing. Fletcher was aiming his small handgun at the crowd, hands steady. Okkan was holding a gun that looked almost as big as he was. It looked dangerous, and not purely because of its size. 

Okkan cocked the gun loudly, aiming at the crowd. “Time for you to leave.” 

“Fine, we’ll go,” the leader said, standing. It was clear that putting weight on his leg was painful, but he was still an imposing figure. “But we’re taking her with us.” 

To your surprise, a gunshot came from the top of the stairs, putting a neat hole in the doorframe beside one of your would-be kidnappers. 

Yi twirled the bat in her hand. “No.” 

“That was your only warning,” Okkan explained, a menacing smile shining bright in the gloomy room. 

The attackers were gone in a moment, leaving you sprawled on the floor. Ridiculously, the first thing that came to mind was, “Fletcher, I didn’t know you could shoot that well.” 

Fletcher grinned. “I’m not very threatening and I can’t fight. How else did you think I survived in the Undercity so long?” 

You were spared the need to respond when Okkan helped you to your feet. “We need to prepare for another attack.” 

You frowned, running your thumb over the fresh bullet hole in your doorframe. “Are you sure? It seems like you all scared them pretty badly.” 

Okkan shook his head. “Those people broke in. They’re not part of Silco’s group. If random people on the street feel safe breaking into the Haven, that means that word about Silco’s lack of protection has spread. The attacks are just going to happen more often from here. And they’re more likely to get more violent, as well.”

“I don’t have the money for security,” you reminded him. Much as you tried to keep the state of the Haven’s finances from Okkan, Fletcher, and Yi, they had picked it up over the previous weeks. 

“But there are other things we can do,” Yi argued. “Move more people into the upper floors, gather together the ones who can’t climb stairs. We’ll put a sturdier door between their rooms and the main areas. One person on guard would be able to lock the door when there’s a break-in.” 

“And a few more guns wouldn’t be a bad idea,” Fletcher told you, locking the safety on his own handgun. 

You nodded. “Let’s get it done.” 

—

The changes you were making to the Haven weren’t exactly secret, especially since Yi, Okkan, and Fletcher told anyone and everyone that there were even more security advancements to come. 

You knew what it was - posturing. By talking openly about the defenses in place and positioning themselves as guardians of the Haven, they were discouraging people from attacking without doing so in a way that would seem too close to a dare. 

It was clever, though you all knew that moving patients, adding a door, and buying additional weapons were the extent of your security planning. Still, it seemed to be working. Two weeks had passed since the break-in and you hadn’t had a scare in that time. Maybe any would-be attackers were waiting for you to get comfortable and lax, but you were hopeful that the Haven simply seemed like more trouble than it was worth. 

All of your optimism disappeared in an instant as you stepped into your office late one night. You couldn’t keep up the pace you had been, but you were fairly certain you could manage one more night of grant-writing before you collapsed into an exhausted heap. 

The figure sitting at your desk made you jump, though the lit lamp on your desk should have been the first clue that you had a visitor. 

“Close the door, pet,” Silco commanded. “We need to talk.”

You dropped your hand from where it had reflexively pressed over your heart. It was difficult to glare at someone when they could see how badly they had just frightened you. “I’ve already said everything I needed to say, Silco. And you’ve already said everything I was willing to listen to.” 

He smirked. “I have missed your backbone, darling.” 

“That’s nice.” You pointedly held the door open, waiting for him to leave. 

Instead, Silco sat forward, leaning his elbows on the surface of your deks so he could study you more intently. “You can imagine how relieved I was to hear that you survived the first attack on the Haven.” 

You didn’t remember closing the door, but the sound of it slamming beside you was unmistakable. “First.” 

Silco nodded at the word you had repeated. “I am certain you are clever enough to know that more attacks will come.” 

“And I’m sure your memory is good enough to remember that this is the second time the Haven has been attacked,” you countered. “However, we handled this one far more effectively than the last.” 

Silco inclined his head in a silent concession of your point. “You defended yourselves admirably. But will you manage the same next time? And the time after?” 

“I’m sure there’s a purpose to this conversation.” You glanced outside of the window, using the brightness of the neon signs against the darkening sky to gauge the time. “The Last Drop must be open by now. You have a business to run and I need to get back to mine. Make your point.”

“I am here to offer my assistance, of course,” Silco said smoothly. “It would be simple enough to reassign a security detail to the Haven.”

Your laugh was unintentional, but you didn’t mind it. It was a sharp, ugly sound, leaving no doubt about the sincerity of your amusement. “Considering all of this started because of you, I can’t say I’m inclined to accept your help.” 

Silco tilted his head, a dangerous flash of irritation crossing his face. “I am not the one who tried to defect to Piltover.”

“Defect?” you repeated. “Much as you want to believe in it, Zaun isn’t a real, recognized city. Right now, this place is just the lower half of Piltover - looked down on by the Upper City, if they think of it at all. And you ensured that they have no representation in the government.” 

“We do not need the scraps that Piltover deigns to give us,” Silco decreed. “We will demand the respect and status we are owed, as full equals.”

“And when will that happen?” You shook your head. “I think, if it were possible, you would have done it by now. Piltover is unaffected by the horrors of life in the Undercity, as strong as it ever was. More so, actually, if HexTech’s plans work out. Meanwhile, the people of the Undercity are eroded by pollution, mine accidents, and Shimmer. If there was ever a time when the Undercity could demand anything, it passed a long time ago.” 

Silco snarled. “The people of Zaun were cowed by their failures when they should have used them to spur renewed efforts. The next generation-” 

“The one who survives on the scraps that Piltover deigns to give the Undercity?” The sigh that escaped you was less irritated than you hoped, sounding almost mournful. “They are fighting too hard to survive to worry about a revolution.” 

“Zaun-” Silco paused, visibly collecting himself. He smoothed his hair back as he stepped around the corner of your desk. “I have diverted from my original point. Regardless of the myriad reasons we find ourselves here, I believe we can come to a mutually beneficial agreement.” 

You snorted. “Have you forgotten how our last ‘mutually beneficial agreement’ went?” 

The back of Silco’s fingers brushed lightly down the length of your arm. You tracked their progress before looking up at Silco, who was watching you with heavy-lidded eyes. “Darling, I have thought of little else these past weeks.” 

Suddenly, there didn’t seem to be enough air in the room. The instant your lips parted around a shaky breath, Silco closed the gap between you.

The touch of his lips against yours was achingly familiar and your body relaxed into the kiss without asking permission from your mind. And considering that he avoided kissing you as long as he had, Silco was shockingly good at it. He knew when to push, when to let you lead, and when to encourage you to deepen the kiss. 

And, to your dismay, you did exactly that. 

Somewhere along the line, the kiss had turned into something deep and desperate. Your hands roamed across his body as his did the same to yours. He felt wonderfully solid beneath your searching fingers, and you finally admitted to yourself that you had missed him. 

Perhaps it was because you had trained your body to expect to be fully satiated at least once a month for longer than you had ever expected. Perhaps it was because such a long time had passed since you had been touched by anyone else. Perhaps - unlikely and abhorrent as it was - you had started to grow fond of Silco. 

In any case, you gasped when his trailing fingers skated over the curve of one breast, rubbing unerringly against your nipple before he continued on a steady path downward. You pulled away from him when you heard the desperation of your moan, the fresh air of the room hitting you like a dash of cold water. 

“No,” you murmured, repeating it louder  when Silco started to tow you back to him. When had you entangled your fingers with his? “No, this isn’t- We have to stop.” 

“Why would we ever do something so foolish?” Silco asked, reluctantly letting your fingers slip out from between his. “I have missed you, pet. Have you not missed me?” 

“You-” You cleared your throat. “You came here for a reason, Silco. You were going to make me an offer of some kind. What was it?” 

“I have already made my offer,” he reminded you, dual gaze piercing. “I will reassign security to the Haven.”

You nodded slowly. “And what are you asking in return?” 

Silco spread his hands out to either side of himself. “Renewed access to your delectable body, of course.” 

Of course. As if it were clear without explanation, undeniable and irresistible. And it nearly was, damn him. You could keep the Haven safe, protect your people. In return, you only had to give him something you wanted him to have, anyway. 

You swayed. 

It was an ugly trait for a philanthropist, someone determined to minimize the amount of evil that existed in the world. Your ideals were so high, but you were only human. You wanted nothing more than to let Silco slake the terrible thirst that had overtaken your body. You wanted to fall back into the routine you had become so accustomed to. It would be so easy, so safe, so familiar. You ached for it. 

But at the same time, the thought of it made you recoil. For all that your relationship with Silco had gone better than expected - mostly because you had expected to die at the end - you’d had plenty of time to analyze it since your life had started to spiral. Your time together had gone as smoothly as it had because there was a profound power imbalance between you. When issues came up, they were resolved because you were paying him to keep Shimmer out of the Haven’s neighborhood. 

Yes, you could go back to the way things had been, but you would never find a better reason to leave. And this time, things could very well end with your death. Was this how you wanted to spend the rest of your life? Fearful and subservient because you missed sleeping with a chem baron?

Your shoulders eased as you realized that your subconscious had already made the decision for you. Silco misinterpreted it entirely, reaching to snag your hand again. 

“I’ve missed you,” he murmured, drawing you closer. 

“No, Silco. I can’t.” Pulling away seemed like the most difficult thing in the world just then, but you managed it. “I can’t go back to the way things were. Not after the way everything has changed.” 

“Nothing has changed,” Silco pressed. “Nothing needs to. We can pick up precisely where we left off. The Undercity has already started to forget the news about the Haven’s donations and, under my protection once more, you can continue to impact this place the way you always wanted. Everything you want - everything we want - is waiting. The only thing you need do is agree.” 

If he had said something like that when the indecisive thoughts were swirling through your mind, you would probably be kissing again and well on your way to more. But your swaying had left you stumbling back from the edge, suddenly capable of seeing the chasm yawning just in front of your feet. 

“Thank you for the offer,” you said, taking another step back and pulling your hand away from his. “But I must decline. If you don’t mind, I have other responsibilities to which I must attend.” 

You had turned to open the door when you felt Silco’s presence behind you. The skin at the back of your neck prickled at both the knowledge that he was behind you and the sudden tension in the air of your office. 

“Dismissing me is a mistake, pet,” Silco told you. The words and tone were genial enough, but there was a sharpness in it that made your nerves thrum. “My offer is the only way to avoid the misfortunes that will fall on the Haven. There are those who will tear this place down if they are not stopped. And I’m certain you remember the last time you chose to ignore my advice about an impending attack.” 

“Security is a smart idea,” you admitted, turning as Silco’s eyes searched your face. “But I can’t pay you for it. I have no money for extraneous expenses and my body is no longer available as a form of payment. I’m not saying you’re wrong about what could happen to the Haven, but the only thing I can do is stand strong against whatever may come.” 

“This is the only time I will give you the opportunity to continue our deal,” Silco warned, Shimmer-infused eye piercing as he stared at you. “The moment I leave the Haven, we are finished. Do not be foolish.” 

You bowed your head, hoping a show of subservience would be enough to push him out of the Haven. Silco was always a little more rational when he thought that he had succeeded in making his point. “I understand that the offer is only good for right now, but unfortunately, I cannot accept. Thank you for giving me the chance to make a choice.” 

“You will regret this,” he warned, anger flashing across his scarred face as he stalked through your door and toward the front door of the Haven. 

You closed the door a moment before you collapsed against it, a fine trembling in every limb and digit. Silco always took it personally when a deal fell through. And an offended Silco liked to soothe his indignation with a little murder. You were getting better about defending yourself against attacks, but you wouldn’t bet on yourself against Silco. It was all for the best that he had left in some semblance of peace. 

As you settled to work on the piles of paperwork lying across your desk, you had to push away another twinge of regretful lust. You had done the right thing, but that didn’t make it any easier.

---

Author's Note - This was not my most elegant chapter, but I needed to show how things are progressing in the Haven and the Undercity as a whole. If it helps, every remaining chapter is one I'm very proud of. This is just my awkward little baby who had to leave home before I felt it was ready.

Anyway, thanks for reading! I'll see you next month!

[smallraindrops-blog]

Sacred Ingredients

Zagreus/Male!reader 

Fandom: Hades (2019 game)

Word count: 3.3k

Summary: There was a new cook in the house

warnings: Implied reader death, no beta.

Notes:

The fic that is the reason yall have been seeing so many food posts lately.

This is the first response for the wholesome Zagreus x male reader request. I took my time with this since I wasn’t sure if I was following the prompt.

To the anon, thanks for the wait. If this isn’t what you wanted, please lmk and I will be happy to redo it. I do hope you enjoy this one.

Important: often people would use other names for the gods to avoid bringing unnecessary attention to themselves. Our reader is one of those people.

Enjoy!

~

One of your first memories was of your Mom holding a small bit of cake between her fingers. 

It was made of thin layers of dough, heavy with sheep cheese, crushed nuts and honey, so heavy with it that the dipping honey caught the sunlight just before you bit in.

Sweet. Creamy. Nutty. All combining together in your mouth as you chew.

You groaned in pure delight as she laughed, getting you a plate with a much bigger piece. See? I told you that you would like it. Mama is never wrong. Not with food.

Just like that, food had became your life. To you, there was no better way to say ‘I love you’ than by cooking someone a good meal.

You learned how to perfectly roast fishes, how to stuffed chicken, the right moment to add herbs or how to use olive oils or butter to add rich flavors to the dish. You learned how to knead the bread, how to time the rise just right and the best spots in the stone ovens to place the loaf. 

Food was everything. It was the bittersweet memory of your mama’s hand on your cheek after a sickness took her far too soon, it was a way to feed your family while working hard as a fisherman, it was a way to earn your place among warriors and kings. 

You loved all of it, even as the other men had scoffed at you for enjoying women’ work. However they never turned away a meal you cooked, at home or in the war tents.

The very last thing you cooked, a recipe your mama taught you, was a simple bread, meant for dipping in wine. 

Barley flour. Dry yeast from the grapes. Then you added the simple spice mix you came up with and always added in. The one that had people waiting outside for your bakery before the markets opened.

Parsley. Rosemary. Oregano. Garlic cloves smashed up and added into the bread, and just a little dash of salt.

You had set one aside for yourself for later.

You never got to eat it. 

~

When the news came that the terrifying god of the underworld was looking for a new cook, you didn’t hesitate.

To get a spot in the house of the gods was prime time. It meant respect, a place to live and most importantly it meant regular income. That was money you can send to your mama and sisters so they can get into a better area of Asphodel.

You had spent hours over the cake. 

You made sure that each layer of the dough was perfect, thin and flakey with a satisfying bite, that the cheese was the perfect amount of tangy creaminess, that nuts were crushed to the right size, that the honey was placed in the perfect spot to complement the cheese and nuts.

This had to work because your family worked hard to get the coin to order such things from the expensive shop of the boatman.

Even the neighbors had pitched in, with the promise that you will pay them back.

You took a nervous breath as you shifted on your feet, winced as the terrifying King of Below tossed aside the meal someone brought him, promptly dismissing them. 

“And another one bites the dust.” The sleep god muttered as he crossed something off a list.

He looked up, blinking heavy downturned eyes at them. You and the other commoners were careful to keep their gazes low, not willing to show any disrespect to any of the gods.

The gentle one huffed and gestured for the one before you to go ahead. You were up after this, assuming that the person before you didn’t have something amazing. 

The underworld King made a loud gagging sound and wordlessly dismissed the shade. Gentle one only clicked his tongue as he crossed out another line and shook his head, white curls flopping around. 

“Good luck, buddy.” He told you with a cheerful grin, using his quill to point to the desk.

Did the gods normally call people buddy?

With a deep breath, you went to the looming desk, feeling like you were meeting the fates themselves. 

“And what is this?” The King of those below growled, his haunting eyes locked onto you like a predatory bird. His hellhound shifted next to him, their three noses twitching at the food.

“This is a plakous, my lord.” You said, proud that your voice was stronger than you expected. “Made with wheat dough, rich honey-“

The King held up a large hand and you stopped speaking, fearing you had already lost your chance. A shade took the plate from you and brought it to their master. 

You held your breath as he took the first bite, your heart no longer beat but you swore you felt it in that moment, slamming against your chest. He chewed slowly and his bloody red eyes slowly went wide.

A hush fell over the grand hall.

Then the King did something he didn’t do with any other meal, he went back for a second bite.

After that bite, he peered down at you for a long, long time.

“Is this all you can cook?” His voice broke over you like thunder. You shook your head, your hands curled up nervously 

“No, my lord. I have created meals for kings and I can cook many things. Meat of all kinds. And bread, vegetables and so on.” You wished you were a more eloquent man, but that had never been needed before.

Not to mention such an education was beyond your reach.

And your food alway did the talking for you. 

The king took a third bite then tossed the rest to the hellhound, the animal eating in a single swipe of its tongue. The tail wagged once, thumping on the floor. 

The Wealthy One nodded slowly.  “You may start today.”

~

The kitchen size alone would have made your mama weep with joy. The amount of fresh produce, herbs and clean grains along with plenty of meat made your jaw drop. 

You clapped your hand together in thought then…You hit the ground running. 

There was an endless list of tasks to be done before the kitchen would be ready to open and you went through all the tasks with horse blinders on, determination fueling you.

The first meal you officially served Master was a few of salted and peppered trout with a garlic lemon sauce with butter and herbs along with a hearty lentils soup, warm sourdough bread for the soup and sauce.

You added a fresh cucumber salad along with a large plate filled with cheeses and fruits that would compliment the fish.

When the plates came back, clean of even a drop of sauce, you felt something loosen in your chest. 

~

Eventually you began to learn the house's routine and the many shades. You learned to always have some type of bread readied with olive oil. 

You learned what went fast and what you had to jazz up to get rid of. 

The most important lesson you had learned in life and one that remained unchanged even now was that most souls just wanted something that tasted like home. 

It was toward the end of the kitchen hours when you heard someone take a seat.

Even at this late hour and working alone, you weren’t one to turn away a hungry soul so after wiping your hands on your apron, you turned with a smile.

“Welcome! What can I…” your words trailed off, your eyes going wide as you realized who was sitting in one of the barstools.

The Prince of the underworld gave you an exhausted, crooked grin. There was a curious gleam in those mismatched eyes, the strong lines of his cheeks softened by the dim lights of the lounge.

He was inhumanly beautiful in the ways all divine beings were.

But there was something different to his handsomeness.

Unlike the soft loveliness of Sleep, the sleek grace of the Fury or the dark shocking beauty of Night herself, this god before looked almost moral like. It was his eyes that revealed his godhood. It was the power in his broad shoulders.

You were surprised by how much you liked it.

“So you are the new cook everyone is raving about.” The Prince said, leaning on his forearms to peer at you. You saw the strength in his arms, his quick grace as he moved. Strong and muscular with thick tendons upward from the knuckles. 

It was clear this god was a warrior of a sort.

Your eyes flickered down in embarrassment when you realized you were being disrespectful in your staring. 

“I believe so, your highness.” You said, bowing your head in a show of respect for his position. “How may I serve you?” 

“Honestly?” The Prince leaned, scanning the area behind you. “Whatever you have will work. The last cook we had working here would just give us sliced onions if we came in this late. Once he gave Hypnos a single apple peel for daring to ask for something else.”

He sounded amused, chuckling to himself at the memory. It was a nice laugh, deep and rich.

You couldn’t imagine being so rude to the gods. Your mom was a pious woman and even a quiet sigh during prayers would get you a disapproving look.

With a nod, you went to get the Prince his meal and drink.

Thankfully you had a leftover trout and tossed one onto the grill to cook as you prepared a bowl of cabbage for him, added in spices along with honey vinegar and silphium.

You had some bread and garlic cheese so you plated those as well with olives and grapes.

You decided to give him a rich red that most enjoyed, filling it up to the brim.

“Oh wow.” The prince muttered as you set everything in front of him and with a bow, you rushed back to the fish, flipping it over. Once it was ready with some garlic butter sauce, you brought it to him. 

“Please let me know if you would like for me to serve you more or cook something else for you.” You told him and the prince blinked at you, his mouth filled with bread and cheese. 

The prince waved a hand before you left him for his meal. He drank the wine deeply before placing it back down. You immediately refilled it. “This is plenty, my good shade. Thank you.”

With a respectful nod, you resumed cleaning up the kitchen. Counters got wiped down, supplies restocked but it wasn’t the usual relaxing routine it normally was.

You felt the weight of those divine eyes on you. The Prince was quiet as he ate but you caught quick glimpses of his curious gaze on the shine of the plates, or reflection in your knives.

It was only when the Prince left that you let yourself breathe.

~

Master liked large meals but only if they could be eaten quickly. The only thing you had been warned never to add was pomegranates. No one would tell you why.

The Gorgon, the creature was surprisingly sweet for all the horrible tales you heard of her kind, ate in a rush as well.

If you were smarter, maybe you could have made a clever joke about how the lowest server and the King of the Underworld ate the same way.

But one look into her smiling face held your tongue. She was always kind so you would be so in return.

The Fury was a regular companion of hers, requesting simple meals of fish and some types of roasted vegetables. Mostly she would drink deeply, often you would have a pitcher of wine put aside for her. 

Sometimes Dreaded Death would join her, unwelcoming to all and cool. He rarely ordered any food, his fingers drumming on the table sounded like funeral marches to your ears. 

His twin was the complete opposite, Gentle Sleep had a sweet tooth unlike anything else you have seen. Often he would ignore the dinner option altogether and eat slices of cake, candied figs or honeycombs. 

If you weren’t careful around the god, plates of cookies that were meant for the whole house would go missing around him. 

You still haven’t found the last two plates he stole from you.

And...

There was The Prince himself. 

He was a regular now, always sitting close to wherever your work station was that day. He also was the only one who ate anything you put on a plate for him, and would shove the meal into his mouth like a starving creature. You always made sure to give him larger servings.

“Tell me your name.”  He ordered you one day. His tone was deep, firm. Making it clear he wouldn’t take no for an answer.  “You keep feeding me delicious food, no matter the hour. And I don't know what to call you.”

Then he added with raised eyebrows, sounding more like a playful suitor than a Chthonic god. “Please?”

You considered it, your hands still on the bowl of the hardy stew just placed before the god. You stared at the stew for a moment, then at him.

Or just past him, not willing to meet the god’s eyes, life and death danced in those unusual eyes of his.

You were a moral, a simple one at that. 

You never picked up a sword, never learned all the fancy learnings that a prince might, never learned much beyond what you needed to but you knew names had powers, could decide whole destinies before a babe even wailed out their first cry. 

Names could summon the gods themselves.

Quietly, you told him.

The prince grinned at you, his smile fierce and beautiful like a victorious lion. Your breath hitched, forgetting that one was to never look the gods in the eye.

Then the next words he spoke early jumped started your heart into beating once more. 

“It suits you, my good cook. Call me Zagreus.” 

~

Later, alone in the kitchen, recipes laid in front of you, you tried to will yourself to focus.

Schooling was too costly for your family especially after your Mother’s death. Your reading went far as basic words and numbers, just enough to get by in the markets.

You never needed much. 

Right now, however, the recipes might as well be another language. 

You were too lost in thought, several times you had already caught yourself even daring to think The Prince’s name in your mind.

What would happen if you dare to…

Zagreus.

A soft noise came behind you and You whirled around, glancing everywhere as if expecting him to appear right behind you. 

He didn’t. 

You realized you heard the sounds of the Wretched Broker restocking his shelves. Thankfully, he was too busy to realize that the House’s cook had gone mad simply by learning a God’s name. 

Maybe you should start wearing a pot on your head.

“Zagreus.” You whispered, fingernails digging your palm nervously. “Zagreus.”

When the god didn’t appear, you didn’t know if you were disappointed or relieved.

~

Slowly, you learned more. 

There were the loud fights between Father and Son that would cause the house to rattle. Many shades would escape into the lounge, hands over their ears.

”Tell me, do you get along with your father?” Zagreus grumbled, his plate cleared of any crumbs. His legs were bouncing, filled with an endless energy you knew you would never be able to match. 

“No.” You said, not wanting to think of that man. You knew he was somewhere in the underworld but the less you knew, the better. “I suspect few do.”

Once, over a glass of white wine and a simple meal of sourdough bread and warm vegetable soup, He told you was looking for his mother.  

“You will find her. I know you will.” You told him quietly, holding his stare. “Have faith, Zagreus.”

Another time, over a cake from a new recipe you came up with, Zagreus asked about you. Maybe it was the exhaustion after a successful dinner rush but you told him everything. 

His smile was warm, his eyes watchful of your every move as you told him of your family and their new place you brought for them. 

Your cheeks flushed when you realized he was staring at you.

“I will have to stop by then.” He teased, his hand almost brushing against yours. 

“Yes.” You agreed in a whisper, your mouth suddenly dry.

~

“Cook me your favorite meal.” Zagreus ordered one day, not even bothering to sit down. You lifted a cool eyebrow, well used to his impulsiveness by now.  

“Hello, Zagreus.” You greeted dryly, wiping your hands on your apron, not actually that upset.

Not too long ago, you would have wilted from the thought of being so playful with a divine creature but things changed.

Zagreus brought it out of you somehow simply by being himself. 

“I am doing well, thank you.” You continued to teased despite his oddly serious expression.

Zagreus blinked, then chuckled with a bright grin. “I am a horrible influence on you, I fear.”

You laughed, cheeks flushing at his smile. “I am afraid so, your Highness. Now what is this about a favorite meal?”

“Yours. I want to know what your favorite food is.” 

“Oh.” You grabbed an apple, rolling it in your hands for something to do. Butterflies dancing in your stomach as Zagreus leaned in, his hands on the counter. This close, you caught the scent of copper.

unwillingly, your gaze tangled with his, caught like a fly in a complex web. A stray thought reached you, could a mere fly understand the geometric structure, beauty of such things?

You swallowed nervously. “It’s nothing special, Zagreus. Just something my mom cooked up for me.”

Zagreus narrowed his eyes, his jaw firm in his resolve. “Excellent, then. I trust you have all the ingredients you need?”

You nodded but opened your mouth to dissuade the prince from his idea, however he was already walking away, “I expect a meal to be waiting for me when I get back!”

~

One day, staring at a wooden spoon in your hand, cake batter dipping from the tip, you realized that Zagreus had became someone very, very dear to you. 

Morals and gods didn't mix together well. At least, not for the morals. Cracked eggs and spilled milk and all left would be a big mess with no one to clean it. 

What did it mean when a shade, a mere ghost of who you were, was in love with a god that shone like the sun, whose very presence made you felt like you were alive once more?

~

When Zagreus returned, his hair was still damp from the Styx river and you had to look away from his beauty.

Quietly, you put the final touches on your favorite meal. You swallowed nervously as you picked up the plate and went over to him. 

Thin layers of dough. Creamy cheese. Crushed nuts. Honey.

A long ago memory of your mom's smiling face as she watched you take a bite. Sunlight made her golden and immortal in that singular moment in your very heart.

You offered it up like the cake was a sacrifice, like you were offering yourself up to the god to make the final decision of the worth of your mortal soul.

“This is the first thing I can remember my mom making for me.” You whispered, your work rough fingers curled nervously against the counter. “This meal is what got me a job here. I got to know you because of this cake.”

Zagreus took a small bite, then closed his eyes in bliss. He said your name with a weight that you never heard before. 

When he looked at you, his expression gentle and hopelessly fond, there was no need for more words. 

~

When he kissed you for the first time, he tasted like home. 

[cheynovak]

Lose Control - pt 3

Characters: Azriel x F/Reader Y/N     

Summary:  Azriel, struggling with the emotional aftermath of his fight with Rhysand over Elain and the fact that Gwen found out his gift for her was a returned gift for Elain made him seek out some company at the pleasure hall. Y/N an old... 'friend'

Warnings: 18+ - Pure SMUT - Sexual content, Dominance, Spice, jealousy

English is not my first language 

*This story is my own fanfiction, please do not copy my work, reblog/comments/likes are appreciated* 

* Published September 21th 2024 *

It's a long story... brace yourself.

As I slowly gathered my things, trying to be as quiet as possible, Elain’s name echoed in my mind. Elain. The name carried an elegance to it, something sweet, soft, and undeniably sophisticated. She had to be beautiful, probably as stunning as Mor, with a grace and serenity that I couldn’t help but imagine.

I couldn’t stop wondering what she looked like as I pulled my clothes back on, stealing a final glance at Azriel as he lay asleep in his bed. My heart ached as I looked at him, remembering how he’d unknowingly stolen my heart the night we first met—decades ago. The connection we shared had always been undeniable to me, even when I hadn’t fully realized what he meant to me. But now, everything felt painfully clear.

I opened the door, not paying much attention as I stepped out, lost in my thoughts. Suddenly, I bumped into someone, startling us both. A young woman with soft, delicate features stood before me, her expression gentle but surprised.

“Oh, I’m so sorry!” I blurted, trying to hide my embarrassment.

“No, it’s my fault,” she replied, her voice as soft as a summer breeze. “I didn’t expect someone to walk out.”

Her voice was so light, almost musical. It took me a second to process her presence, and before I could respond, she asked, “Who are you?”

Caught off guard, I quickly extended my hand, trying to appear composed. “I’m… Y/N.”

She smiled politely, shaking my hand. “I’m—”

“Elain?”

Azriel’s voice cut through the moment like a blade, making the air between us suddenly feel too thick, too heavy. I turned, seeing him standing in the doorway, his face betraying the mixture of surprise and tension that hung between all of us.

Elain. The woman in front of me, the one I had been wondering about—this was her. The realization hit me like a punch to the gut, and my world shrunk around me, the walls pressing in. I couldn’t breathe. My chest tightened as the weight of her presence and what she represented crushed me.

Elain glanced between us, her own confusion clear as her soft gaze flickered to Azriel, and then back to me. I felt like I was standing at the edge of a cliff, with no way to pull myself back.

This is her. The girl who had broken his heart. Or the girl who still held it. And here I was, standing between them.

“I—” I tried to speak, but the words caught in my throat. The look on Azriel’s face, the weight of everything unspoken, left me feeling like I didn’t belong in this moment, in this place, in his life.

I swallowed the lump in my throat as I turned to leave, catching a glimpse of Azriel still standing there, shirtless, his wings relaxed but imposing. I tried not to stare, not to let my heart ache at the sight of him, but it was impossible. My whispered “Bye” barely made it past my lips as I moved to slip past Elain, desperate to escape the suffocating weight of the situation.

I had just made it to the door when Azriel’s voice stopped me. “Y/N, wait!”

I froze, my back still to him. My heart thudded painfully in my chest as I heard him take a step toward me. “What… why are you leaving without saying goodbye?”

I clenched my jaw, my hands trembling slightly as I tried to keep it together. I could feel his presence, looming, concerned, and I knew that if I looked at him, the fragile composure I had would break.

“I just…” My voice wavered, betraying me. I kept my gaze firmly fixed on the floor. “I remembered I had to be somewhere. I’m sorry.”

Before he could say anything else, I brushed past him, my body tense and on the verge of fleeing. But just as I moved toward the exit, I walked straight into a room that was anything but empty.

Rhysand and Feyre were there, standing at the far end, their expressions poised but curious. Nesta stood beside them, her icy gaze sharp and calculating. Amren sat nearby, observing everything with her usual detached interest, while Mor stood with her arms crossed, glancing between me and Azriel. And then there was Cassian, his broad grin lighting up the room.

“Y/N!” he boomed, moving toward me like an excited puppy. “Long time no see!” Before I could even react, he swept me into a bone-crushing hug, lifting me off the ground and kissing my cheek in his usual affectionate way.

I forced a smile, trying to ignore the heat rising in my cheeks as I caught a glimpse of Azriel and Elain walking up behind me, clearly still part of whatever gathering was happening. The weight of it all—their stares, their presence, the sudden awkwardness—settled over me like a heavy cloak.

“I’m sorry,” Rhysand said, his tone smooth but amused as he looked from me to Azriel, a grin tugging at his lips. “If I’d known Azriel had a guest over, I would’ve set the meeting at the River House.”

The playful lilt in his voice made my stomach twist. He knew. They all knew. I could see it in the way Mor’s lips twitched, in the way Nesta’s eyes narrowed slightly in recognition.

Azriel stood behind me, his presence an anchor I wasn’t sure I wanted to lean on. The room felt impossibly full, the tension thick enough to cut through, and I suddenly felt like I was drowning.

Cassian, oblivious to the undercurrent, set me down but kept his arm around my shoulders. “Come on, you’re not leaving yet, right? We’ve barely said hello!”

I forced another smile, but my eyes darted to Azriel, who was watching me closely. I could see the concern, the confusion in his gaze. He hadn’t expected this. Neither had I.

But all I wanted was to escape. To get away from the mess I had just walked into.

“No, no, I should really leave,” I stammered, trying to back out, but Cassian waved me off with an exaggerated roll of his eyes.

“Bullshit,” he said, his voice booming. “You’re staying for breakfast.”

I opened my mouth to protest again, but the words died on my tongue. Cassian’s energy was infectious, and as much as I wanted to bolt, something in me gave in. “Well… at least let me make it,” I offered, mostly as an excuse to stay out of the way and avoid the tension swirling in the room. If I kept myself busy, maybe I wouldn’t have to think about the mess I had just stumbled into.

Cassian shrugged, all too happy to accept. “Works for me!”

I moved to the kitchen, grateful for the distraction. I could hear the others talking softly, but I wasn’t paying attention—wasn’t trying to pay attention. The meeting, whatever it was, didn’t involve me. And frankly, I didn’t want to get involved in anything more than I already was. I had enough to deal with, given the awkwardness of Azriel and Elain standing just feet away.

As I was preparing the food, I felt someone walk up behind me. I didn’t have to turn to know who it was—her soft, delicate presence was unmistakable.

“So you and…?” Elain’s voice was quiet, but the question hung heavily between us. Her finger moved over the kitchen counter, clearly afraid or shy to look at me.

I fumbled with the food, my heart racing. “Oh, uh, we’ve known each other for a while,” I said, my words tumbling out clumsily. “It was, um…” I trailed off, not sure how to explain what Azriel and I were. How could I, when even I didn’t fully understand it?

Elain gave me a polite nod, an awkward smile playing at the corners of her lips. “I get it,” she said softly, her eyes not quite meeting mine.

We exchanged uneasy smiles before I quickly turned back to the food, setting it on the table in hopes of avoiding any more awkward questions. The tension in the room was suffocating, but before it could settle too deeply, Cassian’s loud voice cut through again.

“Oh my gods, Y/N!” he exclaimed, his mouth full as he dug into the food. “You should open a restaurant! This is even better than the last time you made food.”

I couldn’t help but blush at his enthusiasm. Cassian’s praise was always so genuine, even if his timing could be a bit off.

Azriel, who had been conspicuously silent the entire time, finally spoke, his voice sharp. “You’ve had her food before?” The irritation in his tone wasn’t lost on anyone except Cass.

Cassian, oblivious to the tension that thickened the air, nodded enthusiastically, still chewing. “Yeah! A few times. Honestly, Y/N, you chose the wrong profession. You should try her pies" he said to Nesta.

I felt my face heat up even more, the attention making me uncomfortable. I could feel Azriel’s gaze on me, something unreadable in his expression as Cassian continued eating, completely unfazed by the awkwardness swirling around us.

I tried to smile, tried to act normal, but the weight of it all was too much. Elain’s lingering presence, Azriel’s sudden shift in mood—it was all pressing down on me. "So, eh... What do you do?" Elain asked with innocence in her voice.

The room was suddenly charged with a new wave of tension as Elain’s question hung in the air. Amren and Mor almost spilled their drinks, their reactions betraying their surprise. I glanced at them, feeling a sharp sting of embarrassment as Cassian answered for me.

“Y/N works in the flower shop in Velaris,” Cassian said, his tone matter-of-fact but somehow completely missing the undercurrent of discomfort in the room. His eyes met mine, knowing, telling he has my back.

Azriel’s face twisted in confusion. “You do?”

I nodded, trying to keep my voice steady. “Yes, I’ve been working there for a while now.” Azriel’s brows furrowed, and his eyes darted between Cassian and me. “I didn’t know. How do you even know?”

He turned to Cassian, his irritation palpable. “How do you even know her?”

Cassian, who had been in good spirits, suddenly felt the shift in the room’s atmosphere. His face fell as he realized the tension. “Dude, relax. I helped her move and find a job. She made food as a thank you.”

Azriel’s anger flared, his voice sharper than before. “Was that all she did to thank you?”

Mor’s voice cut through, firm and authoritative. “Azriel!”

The room fell into a tense silence as Azriel’s eyes softened when he turned back to me. I could feel the tears threatening to spill, the weight of the situation pressing down on me. I couldn’t handle the scrutiny, the judgment. I just wanted to escape.

“If you will excuse me,” I said, my voice trembling as I gave a respectful bow to Rhysand and Feyre. “I would like to go home now.”

Without waiting for a response, I turned on my heel and made my way toward the door. The weight of their stares was almost too much to bear.

Cassian, still visibly annoyed with Azriel, got up from his seat with determination. “I’ll take you home,” he said, his voice firm.

As I moved toward the door, Cassian followed closely behind, his presence a comforting contrast to the heavy atmosphere I left behind. I could hear the muffled conversation behind me, but I didn’t turn back.

All I wanted was to get out of there, away from the confusion and hurt, away from Azriel.

The flight home was quiet, the weight of the day hanging heavily between us. I was grateful for the silence, though it gave me too much time to think about everything that had happened.

Cassian dropped me off at my apartment and before he left, he placed a hand on my shoulder, his voice soft but firm. “Don’t hate Azriel. He’s clearly protective of you.”

I huffed, unable to keep the bitterness from my voice. “Or he just felt guilty about being caught with a whore in his bed.”

Cassian’s laughter was a rare, genuine sound in the tense air. “A florist, to be precise,” he teased gently, though the humor didn’t quite reach my eyes.

I rubbed my temples, feeling the weight of my own foolishness. “It was stupid to go home with him. I should have just left.”

Cassian’s hand stayed on my shoulder, his touch surprisingly comforting. “You care for him,” he said, his tone warm. “That’s beautiful. Azriel just has a twisted idea of not being worthy of someone’s love. He doesn’t see how much you care. You need to tell him.”

I looked away, shaking my head. “After seeing the look on his face when he saw Elain? I’m not telling him anything, Cass. I’m not Mor, I’m not Elain. I’m not the woman he wants a life with. I have to accept that.” I will not be loved

Cassian’s eyes softened with understanding, though a shadow of sadness lingered. “At least you two have one thing in common,” he said as he prepared to leave.

I looked at him, puzzled. He offered a small, knowing smile. “You both struggle with feeling unworthy.”

With that being said he kissed my cheek and took off into the night sky, leaving me alone at my door. The cool night air was a sharp contrast to the warmth and tension of the evening.

I entered my apartment, I tried to shake off the lingering feelings of hurt and confusion. Cassian’s words echoed in my mind, a bittersweet reminder of the complexities of love and self-worth.

--

The next day dragged on at a slow, almost torturous pace. I took a long, steamy shower, read a book, and made dinner for myself, trying to keep my mind off the chaos from the night before. My hair was pulled up in a messy bun, and I was dressed in just some comfy panties and an old shirt that had seen better days.

As I was tidying up the kitchen, there was a knock at the door. I was expecting it to be Cassian, perhaps checking in on me. But when I opened the door, my heart skipped a beat. It was Azriel.

I looked at him, confused. “How did you find me?”

“Cassian,” he replied simply, stepping inside without waiting for an invitation. His eyes scanned the modest space, and he seemed to be taking in every detail.

“It’s not much,” I said quietly, trying to avoid his gaze. “But it’s more than I had before.”

Azriel’s eyes remained fixed on the room as he walked further inside. “Cassian helped you?”

“Yes,” I replied, my voice soft as I moved towards the kitchen. I attempted to shift the focus away from the uncomfortable situation. “I made some pie. Would you like a slice?”

I turned to face him, holding out a piece of pie. “I have one slice left, you’re lucky.”

Before I could fully register what was happening, Azriel had me cornered against the counter. His eyes locked onto mine for a split second before he took a piece of the pie from my hand. He took a bite, and as he did, a low, appreciative moan escaped his lips. His eyes closed, savoring the taste.

“Cassian was right,” he murmured, his voice a deep rumble that sent a shiver down my spine.

My cheeks flushed with a deep blush at his reaction. “I’m glad you like it,” I managed to say, trying to steady my breath as his proximity and the intensity of the moment overwhelmed me.

Azriel opened his eyes, and the heat in his gaze made me catch my breath. For a moment, the room felt charged, heavy with unspoken words and lingering tension. I could feel the warmth of his body so close to mine, and the closeness was both thrilling and terrifying.

He finally spoke, his tone softer, almost vulnerable. “I’m sorry for everything. For how things went last night. I didn’t handle it well.”

I swallowed, my heart racing. “I don’t know what to say.”

Azriel’s gaze softened as he stepped back slightly, giving me space. “I’ve been struggling with how to make things right. I just… I needed to see you.”

I looked at him, the confusion and hurt from the previous day still fresh but mingled with the undeniable relief of seeing him again. “You didn’t have to come here. I'm not mad, I’m just trying to move on.”

He nodded, his expression one of regret and understanding. “I know. I just wanted to tell you that… despite everything, I appreciate you and I'm sorry for what I said. I care about you more than I’ve allowed myself to admit. I know I shouldn't be jealous, but the idea of you and other males... Stupid I know.”

The words hung in the air between us, and I wasn’t sure how to respond. The mix of emotions, the remnants of our past interactions, and the reality of our current situation left me feeling torn.

Azriel seemed to sense my inner conflict. “I’ll leave you alone if that’s what you want. I just needed to make sure you knew how I felt.”

I panicked, the thought of him leaving so abruptly hitting me hard. “No! No, I don’t want you to leave. Please.” I grabbed his hand, my fingers trembling slightly as they wrapped around his. Azriel looked down at our intertwined hands, his gaze catching on the small burn mark on my finger.

His eyes moved back to mine, a mixture of concern and tenderness in his gaze. “You burned yourself?” he asked softly. I nodded, a lump forming in my throat. “Yes, this morning. It’s nothing major, just...” Before I could finish, Azriel’s lips moved to the burn, pressing a gentle kiss to the sting. The softness of his touch, the warmth of his lips, sent a shiver through me.

My breath caught, and my lips parted slightly at the unexpected intimacy of the gesture. Azriel looked up at me, his eyes filled with an intense, vulnerable emotion.

“I’m sorry for how things have been,” he said softly. “I just wanted to make things right.” I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself. The tenderness of his kiss and his words broke through the walls I had built around my heart.

Azriel’s lips traveled up my arm, moving slowly and deliberately, their warmth and softness sending shivers across my skin. He traced a path to my shoulder, then up my neck, his breath warm against my ear. I leaned into his touch, the sensation both soothing and electrifying. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, his voice low and husky. The words were a caress in themselves, and I felt a rush of emotions flood through me.

He nipped gently at the sensitive skin beneath my ear, his lips then moving to lick and soothe the spot. My breath came in heavy, uneven gasps. “Az… what are you doing?” He pulled back slightly, his eyes meeting mine with an intensity that made my heart race. “I’m making it up to you,” he said softly, his hands cupping my cheeks.

His gaze was full of earnestness, as if he were pleading for a chance to right the wrongs. Before I could fully process his words, he leaned in, capturing my lips in a heated, passionate kiss. The kiss was deep and fervent, his lips melding with mine in a way that conveyed everything he was trying to say without words.

The world seemed to narrow down to just the sensation of his touch and the warmth of his embrace. His hands were gentle but firm as they held my face, and his kiss was a blend of regret and desire, a promise of something more if only I could let go of my fears. I responded to him, my arms instinctively wrapping around his neck, pulling him closer as I gave in to the intensity of the moment.

As the kiss deepened, the boundaries of our previous hurt seemed to dissolve, replaced by the raw, undeniable connection that had always existed between us.

Azriel’s touch was both tender and electrifying as he gently turned me around, his hands slipping up under my shirt, his hands made their way up to cup my breasts. His lips continued their trail of kisses along my neck, sending waves of warmth through me.

A deep, approving hum rumbled from his throat when his fingers made contact with my bare skin beneath the shirt. His touch was careful, almost reverent, as if he were savoring the moment, trying to make up for everything that had come between us.

His fingers played delicately over the exposed skin, tracing patterns that made my breath hitch and my body respond eagerly. His kisses on my neck became more insistent, his breath hot against my skin as he explored my body further.

The sensation of his fingers moving slowly and deliberately made my pulse quicken, my body arching slightly into his touch. I let out a soft moan, my head falling back as I lost myself in the intensity of his caress.

“Az,” I breathed, my voice trembling with the mix of emotions swirling inside me. The intensity of his touch was overwhelming, both comforting and intoxicating.

He paused for a moment, his lips brushing softly against my ear as he whispered, “I want to show you how much you mean to me. How sorry I am for everything.” His words were a soothing balm.

Azriel’s hand moved to my hip with deliberate, measured movements, his touch sending a shiver down my spine. His fingers slipped beneath the waistband of my panties, making contact with the sensitive skin there. The sensation of his touch was both intimate and intense, a mixture of warmth and anticipation.

He explored gently, his fingers finding the wetness that had accumulated in response to his touches and kisses. His breath hitched slightly at the contact, a soft, approving growl rumbling in his chest. His touch was careful and purposeful, seeking to both reassure and arouse.

The warmth of his fingers against me made my body tense and then melt into his touch, my breath coming in uneven gasps. I arched into his hand, unable to suppress the soft moans that escaped my lips. His touch was electric, sending waves of pleasure through me as he explored with a tenderness that contrasted with the raw need we both felt.

Azriel’s eyes were focused on me, his expression a blend of concentration and desire. His fingers moved with a deliberate, rhythmic motion, adding to the mounting intensity between us. Each movement was measured, designed to build anticipation and pleasure, to make the moment as intense and meaningful as possible.

“Tell me what you need,” he whispered against my ear, his voice low and urgent. His fingers continued their slow, deliberate exploration, the pressure and rhythm building in a way that made it hard to think clearly.

I struggled to find words, my thoughts muddled by the overwhelming sensation and the raw vulnerability of the moment. “Azriel… just… don’t stop,” I managed to gasp, my voice barely audible over the sounds of our breathing and the quiet rustling of the room.

He responded with a soft, appreciative hum, his fingers continuing their exploration as he leaned in to press a tender kiss to my neck. The dual sensations of his touch and his kisses created a potent mix of pleasure and intimacy, making it hard to focus on anything but the way he made me feel.

Azriel’s hands moved with a mix of urgency and tenderness, pulling my panties down and letting them fall to the floor. As he guided me over the counter, his touch was both firm and gentle, guiding me into position. I felt a rush of anticipation and vulnerability as he helped me settle against the cool surface.

His lips brushed against my behind, the kiss a teasing promise of what was to come. The sensation of his warm breath and the light touch of his lips against my skin made me shiver, heightening the anticipation and making me acutely aware of every nerve in my body.

As he widened my stance, I heard the sound of his zipper, the soft rustling of fabric as he freed himself from his pants. The sound was both exciting and daunting, a tangible reminder of the passion and desire that we were about to indulge in. His hands moved to hold my hips, positioning me just right, and I felt the heat of his body close behind me. The tension in the air was palpable, a blend of desire and intimacy that made my heart race.

Azriel’s touch was both commanding and reassuring as he guided himself to my entrance, his breath warm against my skin. He paused for a moment, his fingers brushing along my hips as he prepared to enter me. The anticipation was almost overwhelming, a mix of pleasure and nervousness as we both braced for the intensity of the moment.

His entry was slow and deliberate, allowing me to adjust and savor the sensation as he filled me. Each movement was measured, his hands gripping my hips firmly as he began to move, his rhythm steady and purposeful. The connection between us was electric, the combination of his touch, his kisses, and the deep, rhythmic thrusts creating a potent mix of pleasure and intimacy.

As he continued, the counter beneath me felt solid and grounding, a stark contrast to the intensity of the feelings coursing through me. The sounds of our combined breaths and the rhythmic movement filled the space, a symphony of desire and connection.

Azriel’s hands moved to hold me closer, his grip on my hips firm and steady. His movements were both powerful and tender, each thrust a testament to his need and desire, as well as his care and consideration for me.

Azriel’s movements were deliberate and filled with a raw intensity as he gently turned me around to face him. I was now sitting on the counter, my legs spread apart, and his gaze was unwavering as he positioned himself between my thighs once more.

When he entered me again, it was with a deep, controlled motion that made me gasp. The sensation was both thrilling and intimate, the warmth of his body pressing against mine as he filled me completely. His eyes locked onto mine, a fiery intensity in his gaze that spoke of his longing and need.

The look he gave me was filled with a mix of desire and tenderness, his eyes dark with passion as he took me in. “Gods, I love that look on your face,” he murmured, his voice low and filled with emotion. His hands rested on my hips, his touch firm yet gentle, guiding me as we found our rhythm.

“I love how much you care,” he continued, his voice a rough whisper against my skin. “I love… I love… all of you.”

His words were a potent mix of adoration and desire, each declaration a testament to the depth of his feelings. As he spoke, he moved inside me with a steady, rhythmic thrust, each motion accentuated by the heat and urgency of the moment. His gaze never wavered, his eyes locked onto mine with a fierce intensity that made my heart race and my breath come in shallow gasps.

The connection between us was palpable, a powerful blend of passion and emotion that made every touch and movement feel significant. His hands caressed my hips, his fingers digging in slightly as he continued to thrust, his breath coming in uneven pants as he chased his release.

As the intensity built, I felt every part of him—the way he moved, the way he looked at me, the way his words and touches made me feel. Each thrust was a testament to his desire, each word a declaration of his love and longing.

The world outside seemed to disappear, leaving only the electric connection between us. The counter beneath us was a solid, grounding presence, a stark contrast to the intense emotions and sensations that enveloped us. In that moment, everything else faded away, leaving only the powerful, intimate connection we shared.

As we reached the peak of our desire, the culmination of our passion was a profound mix of pleasure and vulnerability, a reminder of the depth of our feelings and the complexity of our relationship.

Our breaths came in ragged, sharp, and heavy, the intensity of everything between us settling into the stillness. His forehead pressed gently against mine, and his eyes—soft, vulnerable, and full of regret—held mine like they were searching for answers. "I mean it," Azriel whispered, his voice hoarse with emotion. "Every word. I was a fool. It wasn’t until I thought about you and Cassian… that it hit me. Will you forgive me?"

I didn't respond right away, still reeling from his words. “Me and Cassian?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper, confusion spreading across my face. His gaze faltered for a moment, shame flickering in those eyes that were usually so steady.

“I—” Azriel hesitated, a pained expression overtaking him. “I never knew he was a… a client.”

The words struck me like a blow, and I instinctively pulled back, my heart sinking. "Az, no." I shook my head, my voice gaining strength. "He never was. Cassian and I… we met, we clicked as friends. He saw other girls, but that was years ago, when he was much younger. Never me. We’ve never slept together.”

Relief washed over his face, the tension in his body visibly loosening. “I didn’t know,” he murmured. “I let my jealousy and insecurity get the better of me, and I… I should have never.”

I could see the sincerity in his eyes, the weight of his words hanging in the space between us. Guilt, regret, and love all swirled together in his expression. He closed the gap between us again, his lips pressing softly against mine in a kiss that felt like both an apology and a plea for forgiveness.

When we pulled back, he cupped my face in his hands, his thumbs brushing gently across my skin. "I should have never dragged you through the mud like I did yesterday," he said, his voice thick with regret. "I'm so sorry, Y/N. You deserve better than that… better than me treating you like I did."

There was something raw in his confession, something that tugged at the tender places in my heart. For a moment, I didn’t know what to say, but seeing him like this—vulnerable and remorseful—reminded me of why I had fallen for him in the first place.

--

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Taglist:@lilah-asteria @cynthiesjmxazrielslover @mich0731

[stayandcozy]

Reflection of Us

Hyunjin X Reader Oneshot

WORDCOUNT: 3833

Masterlist

MATURE THEME ADVISED (Smut Focused)

These celebrity parties normally never bothered me. I was used to smiling and just nodding my head as big name idols rambled to me about a lifestyle I completely didn't understand. But that was okay. I didn’t mind and often I enjoyed getting to know more about the life Hyunjin lived. 

When we first started seeing each other two years ago, I made it clear that I didn’t want to share that type of lifestyle with him yet. I wanted something quieter, more romantic. But of course that only got to last a while, luckily we both knew it would happen. That Hyunjins relationship with me would get leaked. It was horrible at first, with fans sending death threats and him needing extra security. But now things have settled down and as my punishment I get to go to these parties. 

Worse was that these were not just social events for the boys but also work. Which meant Hyunjin was off playing the politics of his life. And I was forced to listen as Changbin listed off all his reasons for getting the idols to play a baseball tournament. 

“Oh come on, you have to see it right? All of us in those cute little outfits running around? The fans would eat out of our hands! Imagine how cute Hyunjinnie would look.” 

“Bin, your fans would be too focused on how bad you all are to pay attention to the outfits.” I said while taking a sip of champagne. It was expensive and still tasted like shit. 

“Where is your boyfriend, I need someone to team up with,” and with that he started whipping his head around to look for Hyunjin. I was completely unbothered by his antics so I just shook my head and looked down to check the time on my phone. But when I looked back I saw that his eyes had grown three sizes bigger. I followed Changbins gaze to the corner of the room where Hyunjin was sitting on a chair with two girls on each arm rest. They were giggling at something he said, and touching his shoulder flirtatiously. 

Not here. Don't make a scene, anywhere but here. 

As if he could feel the jealousy radiating off me, Changbin turned to me trying to diffuse the situation. “I’m sure he doesn’t even realize what they're doing.” 

I took my glass of champagne and swished it down in one gulp. “No, maybe not, but I’m not sure that makes it any better.” 

I couldn’t stop myself from staring at them. The way both girls would lean into his sides. It was driving me crazy. It made me even more sick when I saw Hyunjin look up and smile at one of them. What kind of game was he playing? Did he want cheating rumors to start, because this is exactly how you get into that kind of scandal. Or maybe he just genuinely enjoyed the attention. The thought he was enjoying himself started a deep burning in my chest and before I knew it my vision was blurring. 

Sometimes it felt like Hyunjin knew something was wrong when he shouldn't. There have been too many days after work where I couldn’t find the energy to make an effort, and before I could even tell him, he’d be calling me. Telling me how much he loves me, and that no matter what he’d be there for me. That sixth sense he had, must have been the reason his brows scrunched and he looked up to meet my glare.

There was no way from that distance he could have seen me on the verge of crying. But I guess from my deep set frown he knew something was wrong. He started to get up but one of the girls started pouting, put a hand on his chest and pulled him back into the chair. I saw him say something to the girl but then the other put her hand on his thigh. Way too high for it to be innocent. And that was enough for me. I wasn’t going to sit here and watch my boyfriend get felt up.

“Hey Bin, can I take your dorm key? I left my car keys there and I’m not feeling too well.” I let the lie slip out even though I knew he was going to call my bluff. 

“It’s pretty cold outside, do you want me to call you a taxi?”

“No really, I’d rather walk. Give me a chance to ease my stomach.” He gave me a sympathetic look before digging into his pockets to retrieve a key. He dropped it in my hand before walking off in the direction of Chan and Felix. 

I didn’t waste any more time, and rushed to grab my coat and head for the doors. The air outside instantly nipped at my nose and cheeks. Changbin wasn’t kidding, it was unbearably cold. But the temperature was helping cool down the fire burning inside of me. Every time I thought of her fingers grazing his thigh it ignited stronger. Why didn’t he stop them? Was he really enjoying it like I thought? I know that he’s surrounded by beautiful idols every day but never once have I ever felt insecure. Not until then at least. That definitely made me insecure, hyper aware of every flaw on my body. 

Three quick beeps from my phone pulled me out of my spiraling thoughts. 

From My Love <3 

9:52 pm

Hey sweetheart, where did you go? I saw you one second and then you were gone.

9:52 pm

Please tell me you aren’t walking home.

9:53 pm

Changbin told me you left and then called me an idiot…? Did I do something????

I didn’t have the energy for it. I just wanted to get back to my apartment and sleep. I clicked my phone off and instantly another text came through 

From My Love <3 

9:54 pm

I know you saw those. You’re making me anxious. Can you please tell me what’s going on baby? I can’t leave for a bit more, will you at least let me know you’re okay? 

A petty thought came to me, one that I knew wasn’t right but I wanted to hurt him like how I felt hurt. If he was fine with having two random girls flirt with him all night, then he would be perfectly fine not knowing if I was okay or not. Imagining him panicking over me made me feel a little better, which also made me feel insanely guilty. Whatever, he could handle one night of worrying about me. 

The rest of the walk didn’t feel real. I couldn’t recall a single thing from my walk, only that my insides were too numb for me to register any of the numbing on the outside. But when I walked into the dorm building, my ears started to hurt from the cold. I really needed a shower, something to warm me up and calm me down. 

It was rare that the dorms were this quiet. It was nice. 

I figured I still had a good few hours before any of them came home, and Hyunjins shower had one of those waterfall heads that dropped soft water. I opened the door and turned on the water as hot as it would go. A smile crept onto my face as I thought about how Hyunjin has screamed and called me his demon in the past whenever I got in first. But that smile soon disappeared as the thought connected me to everything from tonight, and it hit me again like a train. A scream was threatening to spill past my lips but instead only a choked sob came out. I let my legs give out as I sat and nothing could stop the onslaught of tears. 

What was wrong with me? Was I not enough for him? Did he want something more than what I could give? I couldn’t compete with those girls, who am I even kidding. Maybe it would be easier on everyone if he dated someone from the celebrity world. He shouldn’t even be with someone like me. I should take some space from him. 

The waves of thoughts were exhausting me more and more. I needed to get home. Sleep would bring clarity, surely it would. 

When I stepped out of the bathroom, the steam shrouded around me. Looking up from the ground, I was met with the red and puffy eyes of Hyunjin. I nearly screamed, not expecting anyone home, and feeling all too vulnerable in only a towel. 

“He told me you left because of me…” he started but trailed off when he had to wipe away a few stray tears. It took everything in me not to caress his pretty face. 

“Yeah...” 

He just nodded, and sat looking even more devastated. I couldn’t handle it, I needed him to leave or I was going to lose my resolve. “Please, can you get out? I need to get dressed.”

“Since when have you ever been shy about your body with me?”

”Since now Hyunjin.” 

“B-but I’ve literally painted your naked body before. I’ve stared at it for hours. Thirty seconds of changing is nothing compared to that.” 

I’m not sure why it upset me, but it did. “Mmhm, and that was before I felt like I was competing with other women. Now I don't want you to see me naked.”

His eyes softened a bit but there were still more tears threatening to spill, and I absolutely hated how beautiful he looked with the added sparkle. “Baby… Is that what this is about? About Seoyun and Jiwoo?” So he knew them? I didn’t know if that should have made it better or worse but I felt the familiar burn start in my chest. He shouldn’t have left, I didn't want him to follow me. Seoyun and Jiwoo would make better company. 

“Hyun, please leave.”

“No.”

“Why are you being so difficult? Can’t you see you’ve upset me and I want to be alone?” 

A small, exasperated giggle fell from his swollen lips. “I didn’t upset you. You got jealous.”

I rolled my eyes extra hard at that. “I don’t get jealous.”

“Then why did you leave the party so suddenly?” 

“Because I felt sick.”

“Because you thought I was flirting back,” he said more as a statement rather than a question. 

“No because watching you with them made me realize how terrible we look together!” It exploded out of me before I even had the chance to think. I regretted it immediately. 

“Come here.”

“Hyun no I don’t—”

“Sweetheart. I said come here.” 

He said it with such authority I felt like I had no choice but to listen. I let my legs carry me over to stand in front of him. But that wasn’t enough for him, he wanted, needed me closer. His hands came to my back, and pushed me to sit on top of his lap, straddling him. 

My eyes were closed, I knew I couldn’t look at him. I felt his soft hands push a strand of my wet hair behind my ear and his hand lingered a bit longer, swiping at the remains of old tears. 

“There is only you…” He whispered as his lips ghosted under my ears, “there will only ever be you.” I hated how easy it was for him to affect me. The evidence of goosebumps spread across my arms gave him the push he needed to keep going. “Look at me, my love.” 

And I listened again. I opened my eyes and stared into his. He was searching for something, but I didn’t know what. I stayed quiet hoping he would continue so I didn’t have to reply. I knew if I opened my mouth, I wouldn’t be able to control what I said. 

“When I have interactions with other women at parties like that, it means nothing to me. Truthfully it makes me quite annoyed but this is my life. I can’t risk coming across as rude even if I’m uncomfortable. I let them delve into their little fantasy because it’s easier. Seoyun and Jiwoo are the nieces of one of the big donors of JYP. My managers would have killed me if they said anything about bad manners.”

“It's not fair… I don’t want them to fantasize about you.” 

A shit eating grin spread across his face when I said that. “You do realize what our fans fantasize about right?” God, I really hated him sometimes. I lightly slapped his shoulder and tried to push away from him, but his arms wrapped around my waist and wouldn’t let me move. I kept struggling to slip away and it was useless because his hold was concrete. “Hey don’t try to wiggle out of this!” He laughed and started kissing my neck. It instantly sent shockwaves through my body and my groans of displeasure turned into moans of contentment. I was embarrassed of how quickly the anger melted off of me. 

The anger disappeared completely when I felt him harden in response to my moans. 

“Hyunnie…” 

“When I look at you love, I see art. It’s why you're the subject of most of my paintings. No flowers, oceans, or fields of green could compare to you. Those girls are nothing more than a business transaction. You are my muse, not them. There’s no reason to be jealous because you don’t belong in the same world as them.” 

“Ah—No more, no more… I feel like I’m going to explode from too many emotions.”

“Then is it okay with you if I show you how beautiful we look together?”

I couldn’t do anything but nod my head weakly up and down. He moved me off his lap and walked over to his dresser before shoving it roughly in front of the bed. “Baby what are you—” I asked but I was met with a sly smile and a shushing sound, so I did nothing but sit there and watch as he moved his large full body mirror to lean on the dresser. Excited panic started to rush up my spine. Oh my god he wasn’t going to. Was he? 

My question was answered quickly when Hyunjin came behind me and sat on his knees with me in between them. If the fandom knew him from one thing, it would be his cocky confidence. The way he was able to turn anyone into putty in his hands was a divine gift. One that he used often against me. I couldn’t help but blush as I realized what his intention was, so in order to take a chance to breathe I looked down and stared at the floor. But he wasn’t having any of that, and his beautiful fingers clenched my jaw and forced me to look him in the eyes through the mirror. All too soon he removed his fingers carefully as if to gauge if I’d try to look away. When he decided it was safe he pulled away fully and his fingers went to the buttons of his shirt. 

When I thought earlier that Hyunjin shouldn’t be with someone like me, this is exactly what I meant. He was too pretty for his own good. As if he was made to be looked at. And I couldn’t look away. The way his brows scrunched in focus as he finished unbuttoning sent tingles to my thighs and I subconsciously pressed them together trying to ease the ache he was creating. After discarding the shirt on the floor he nimbly removed his pants, throwing them across the room. 

“Now,” he started. “Look at how beautiful you are.” And he hovered over my hand that was desperately holding onto the towel. I gave in immediately and let him pull the towel down. We were both staring at each other through the glass. His eyes darkened and a hungry look took over his features. It was rare for Hyunjin to get this possessive, this dominant. Staring didn’t last long, he was getting impatient I could tell by the way he subtly arched his hips into my back. Suddenly, he pushed me down so my face was pressed against the bed and my ass was up, all of my intimate parts on full display to him. No matter how many times he saw me naked, I couldn’t help the blush that would paint my cheeks. 

“I’m going to make you cum on my fingers, and you’re going to be a good princess and watch how pretty you are when you cum, okay love?” 

“O-okay.” Was all I could stammer out before I saw him take the band around his wrist and throw his hair half up out of his eyes. Fuck, he was doing it on purpose. His eyes met mine again as he twirled a strand out of the pony tail and let it fall. He knew this hairstyle made me flustered. Whenever he did it at practice he would purposely send me a picture to tease me. And that’s what he was doing right now. That cheeky grin was back, and a groan slipped past my lips. 

“Hyunnie, if you’re going to tease me all night, I’m going to go back to being mad at you,” I said. 

“Oh? Is that so…” He trailed off and I felt those godly fingers slip between my folds. “You’re too wet to be mad at me sweetheart. You would dare leave.” 

The feeling of his fingers dancing on me was making me dizzy and if I didn’t get more soon I was going to pass out. I started grinding myself back onto him. Thankfully he finally listened and those sweet fingers pushed inside me. He was slow at first, taking his time as he eased a second finger in. I caught a glimpse of us in the mirror and moaned at the sight. Hyunjin had one hand placed on my ass, and the other pumping in and out of me at a fast pace. The way he stared, captivated by me sent another shock to my brain and I could feel my orgasm bubbling. 

“Fuck… God.. Ugh baby look at you. I’m going to cum just from looking at you. You wanna cum baby? You wanna cum on my fingers?”

“Yes, god please, please, please, yes.” 

“Give it to me then baby. Cum for me.” 

And as if his every word held some supernatural force over me I did. I screamed out his name as I came around those stupid fucking fingers. 

“Did you see how pretty you looked, love?” 

Oh fuck. “I’m sorry, it felt so good baby I closed my eyes.”

He tsked, and I felt him shed his underwear. “I guess I have to do it again then and make sure you’re watching huh?” This side of Hyunjin made me weak in every way. I felt drunk on the dominance he was feeding me. I loved taking the lead with him normally but I couldn’t lie to myself. It felt insane to let him use me however he wanted. 

Before I knew it, I could feel him plunge himself into me in one slick thrust. The remains of the previous orgasm made it too easy for him to slide in. He let out a breathy moan and I snapped my eyes to the mirror to watch him. The image was so lewd. Hyunjin had both hands on my hips as he set a quick pace. I stared in awe as I watched him fuck me. Both of our moans joined together. He was right, we did look beautiful together. I nearly came when I saw him let out a light laugh and swipe his tongue over his teeth as he let out a vulgar moan. 

Watching him was bringing me closer and closer to another orgasm. 

“Mmm feel so good baby, I’m not gonna last much longer if you keep clenching me like that.” He said breathlessly. 

He was fucking me at a ruthless pace now, chasing his own high as he took quick deep thrusts. I couldn’t take it anymore, it felt so good. I let my head rest on the bed and closed my eyes for only a moment. 

“Nuh uh, we’re not doing that again,” he said as he reached forward and pulled my hair back towards him. The pain forced another loud moan out of me and it only encouraged him to go harder. I could tell he was closer from the way his eyebrows knit together and his thrusts become sloppy and greedy. He looked completely fucked out.

“Need you baby, need you to cum in me.” I managed to get out.

“Oh fuck…” and he fucked into me impossibly deeper. He still had a fist full of my hair forcing me to look in the mirror. I came instantly when I felt the warm jets of cum fill me. Clenching around him in flutters. 

He pulled me closer to his body and I felt the sticky sweat cling to my skin. His head was resting on my shoulder and I felt him watching me through the mirror, breathing heavily. I took a breath before I looked to meet his gaze. 

“See? Beautiful. We belong together. You fit me like a puzzle piece.”

I felt a pang of guilt wash over me and quickly slid off of him and turned to sit in his lap. 

“I’m so sorry I was so cold to you. I just got so insecure.” 

“It’s okay sweetheart. I understand completely. But no more being a brat to me over jealousy okay? That’s my thing.” I could help but giggle at him. He was truly the best, and I couldn’t have asked for a more caring boyfriend.

“Yeah I’ll leave the dramatics and brattiness to you. I don’t wanna feel jealous ever again.”

“Really? Not even after I fucked the jealousy out of you?” 

“Hyunjin!” 

“What! It’s true.” He giggled. God I loved him. I never hated him. I pressed my lips to him and felt him melt into my touch. 

“I love you.” I whispered. 

“I love you too.” He replied. 

His eyes looked at me so innocently and I felt that school girl crush creep up on me. What did I do to ever deserve him?

“You deserve me.” 

“How did you even—“

“I told you, you are my muse, love. I know you better than you know yourself. Come on, let's get you cleaned up and go cuddle. I expect two hours of back rubs as an apology for thinking I’d ever choose anyone but you.” 

And with that he stood and took my hand leading me back into the bathroom. A smile crept onto my face and I thought about how beautiful we looked together. I felt all of the worry melt off of me and something warmer, softer spread throughout my body. 

Author Note

You may have seen this before! I posted it on my private account, but decided I should post it here too. No I’m not stealing anyone’s work haha, I’m the original author. Thanks! Hope you enjoyed it you dirty freaks. <3

[random-knowone]

Hi! I'm glad you're posting so much about Harris. Almost no one I follow/am mutuals with has been talking about the election at all even though it's so close, even though they were doing so much back in 2020. Do you have any thoughts on that sort of situation? Maybe it's that they're tired of talking about it, but it's just really concerning. It's like the election doesn't even exist to them, and they stopped talking about it once they couldn't complain about it. (First they complained they didn't like Biden because of his support for Israel. Then he dropped out and Harris took over and they complained about her being a cop and supporting Israel. Then there were a few posts explaining that she was a prosecutor and actually did a lot to help people, and also that she also supports Palestine and wants a ceasefire. After that, it's been absolutely nothing from any of them for weeks. Many of them are Americans living in the US, too. (Though it's more understandable for someone outside the US to not want to bother, even mutuals and people I follow who live in other countries had been extremely vocal about US politics in the recent past, so it still feels strange for them to also be saying nothing about it now.)

Hey there, thanks for reaching out! I think it's a shame that I lot of folks aren't talking much about this election when so much is on the line.

I think a lot of people either don't realize how much is on the line, don't like Kamala for whatever reason they may have, or see it as "obvious" to vote for Kamala and don't bother talking about it because they assume that everyone already will.

My advice would be to talk about it yourself, make and reblog posts about it, be the change you wish to see. And hopefully, your mutuals will see those and reblog them, spreading the word. Especially posts about Kamala's plans for office, and her past record throughout her career, to help the folks who don't know enough about her to make up their minds.

A lot of people seem to have this idea that both parties are the same, or that Democrats never get anything done. I think a lot of this stems from people just not paying close attention to what goes on in politics, which is understandable. The main reason Democrats don't get as much done as they say they will is that they get blocked all the time by Republicans in the House and Senate, which the majority of people seem to forget about.

Many leftists on here don't like Kamala because she worked with Biden, or because of the ongoing issues with the war in Gaza, or because they just don't think she's left-wing enough. The best way to address these types is to remind them that even if they don't like Kamala, she's better than Trump. And one of them is going to be our next president, no matter what. An election isn't about picking the person who matches your values to a T, it's about choosing which of two options you prefer, even if neither are perfect.

In the case of people you're close with, you can talk to them about their views on this election, and answer any questions they might have, or address disinformation they heard.

The most important thing is to be kind and understanding, because at their hearts, everyone wants what's best for our country, and for their loved ones. We just don't always agree on what that looks like. The best way to convince people is to figure out what issues are important to them, and explain how Kamala is the best candidate for them.