#return to rosewood

[lottiepumpkinofficial]

day 6

chap’s 15,16,17

i haven’t taken a break since the last post but i thought id separate them for readability

binah it’s okay to let a cumulonimbus cloud formation affect your cognitive abilities

side note: i got a point on a pub quiz bc i knew cumulonimbus clouds were rain clouds, thanks connie

why does lottie assume the new student is a girl?

nooo this scene is so hard to read

okay jamie she didn’t know you were leaning over so it’s both your faults

lottie nooo don’t do it you’re gonna embarrass yourself (maybe it’ll be different this time i read it)

“pompous brat” ouch he’s anything but

ew ew ew “‘I’m the Maravish princess… but you can call me Lottie.’” WHY WOULD YOU SAY THAt

first jamie briktah of the series

i understand why ellie didn’t consult lottie but dude if you’re planning on taking someone to a different country to hire them in a literally life changing, world altering job, it might be good to get their opinion on the mattter

[terrifyingstories]

it was not long ago emily herself was admitting she was not so overjoyed with alison's return into their lives - but what does joy have to do with it? what relevance could something as frivolous as joy have when emily has guilt? she does not have alison's teeth, nor her claws, and yet the steely look she gives @serendpitous is enough to sink anyone's heart like a stone. "what were you thinking?" she accuses, "how could you help alison leave?"

[marasmadness]

Would you be interested in doing a one shot with jealous/possessive Elle Greenaway and Jennifer Jareau fighting over f!reader? They compete over her and eventually f!reader just gets fed up and is like, both is good :)

PUSH AND PULL

Jennifer Jareau x fem!reader x Elle Greenaway

CW: Jealousy, smut, threesome, gay confusion (from about everyone except Elle), face sitting, strap-ons, slight praise & a little bit of fluff.

WC: 3315

~

“Tilt your head up,” JJ instructed, cupping your chin. You closed your eyes as she painted a black stripe of eyeliner across your eyelid. You were sitting on the floor of her living room with makeup sprawled across the entirety of her coffee table after she requested that you let her do your makeup before going out tonight.

The rest of the team would be coming as well, but all of them knew that you and JJ had been more closely connected than the rest of them. Shortly after you transferred to the BAU, JJ became your best friend. The two of you were inseparable. She had invited you over early to hang out at her place before you met everyone else at the restaurant. Tonight held more anticipation than most team gatherings: There would be another guest joining you for dinner, a returning agent.

According to JJ, Elle had been an agent quite a few years ago. She was talented, but cases happened and got to her, ultimately ending in her resignation. JJ had seemed somewhat close to her, even with the short amount of time they had spent together. She thought Elle might’ve gone on to be a lawyer, but she wasn’t positive. They hadn’t spoken in a while. From the team's stories, the woman sounded incredibly fascinating, and you were eager to meet her.

The two of you arrived just on time to find Hotch with Rossi already at a table and Penelope and Emily right behind you. Morgan had offered to pick Elle up from the hotel she was staying at while in town. A waitress appeared with waters just as they walked in. Cheers and greetings rose around the table. Morgan raised his ends dramatically, as if the excitement were directed at him and not the stunning woman to his left.

She was still in a red button-down and blazer. The click of her heeled boots turned the heads of their table in her direction as she entered. Her hair was a rosewood brown, resting in waves on her shoulders. Her deep brown eyes and sharp cheekbones that sloped down to her pursed lips produced an air of intimidation. Her face broke out into a smile, and she circled the table with hugs and greetings. You, Rossi, and Emily were the three unfamiliar to her, but she greeted you warmly. She brushed her hand along her shoulder before choosing the seat directly across from you, sending Morgan to the opposite end.

Crossing her arms, JJ leaned on the table in Elle’s direction. "So, what have you been up to? I told y/n I vaguely remember plans for law school, but we haven’t heard from you in forever.”

Elle nodded, swirling the ice in her drink. "I did! I graduated five years ago and then joined a firm started by another ex-FBI agent. It's been rewarding. I miss you guys, but this is a better fit for me.” Her demeanor was admirably confident as she elaborated on a few of her most memorable cases, including the case that returned her to near Quantico

JJ kept asking the questions, but Elle’s eyes kept darting over to land on you. Eventually, once JJ had finished the typical catch-up small talk, Elle turned her attention to you. "Sorry, I came in a bit of a flurry, and you never got to introduce yourself. I know Emily took my place, so how’d you end up at the BAU?"Her questions were simple, but the way her attention was directly and entirely on you made your face flush for some unknown reason. Her chin was in her palm, leaning her elbow on the table as she hung on to your every word.

"Well, JJ was on a case overseas. I took her place. Eventually she returned when Emily returned, but I ended up sticking around anyway. I guess I made a good enough impression.” You shrugged your shoulders, sharing a brief smile with JJ.

"Nobody wanted to get rid of her,” she teased, leaning in toward the table as she whispered.

Elle laughed softly with the two of you. "I can see why,’ she said smoothly. Your lips parted in soft surprise from the sudden and effortless compliment. Elle’s lips just curled into a quick smirk before she began twisting the silver rings decorating her hands.

JJ noticed your frozen stare and brought her hand down on top of your knee, rubbing it lightly. Morgan and Emily became rowdy as usual, attracting the attention of everyone at the table. Laughter filled the booth in the corner as compliments and jabs were thrown out of mouths all in one statement. Things settled down, only slightly, when the food arrived. A few nonchalant conversations continued, but it was mostly the scrape of forks against plates. Everybody was starving. The drinks kept coming throughout the night, and everybody’s inhibitions fell to the floor. Penelope had dragged an extra chair around to sit by Morgan and Emily. Rossi and Hotch had completely left the table, engaged in a conversation with the band, who were currently taking a break. With empty space in the booth, Elle took the opportunity to slide in next to you.

Both Elle and JJ were leaning forward slightly. "So, Elle, is there anyone new, a boyfriend or girlfriend?”

Elle’s eyes darted to you for the briefest moment. Clasping her hands in her lap, she answered the question pointedly before twisting the conversation back to JJ. "No, nothing at the moment, but if I’m interested in someone, I let them know. I think it’s silly to waste your chance with someone out of fear. And what about you? Did anything ever come from that thing with-” she froze, trying to retrieve his name. "Oh, Will!”

JJ’s cheek hollowed in with distaste from old memories, and having to admit that things hadn’t worked out. "No, that ended a while ago; it just wasn’t a good match."

The fuse of a growing tension had been lit, but you had yet to notice the tight lips and slight eyerolls exchanged between them. You hadn’t been looking for tension from them in the first place; JJ had mentioned she loved Elle when she was at the BAU and had missed her.

Elle frequently sought you out through the night, constantly starting conversations. "Oh, hang on, your necklace is twisted.” She leaned toward you, her hands brushed against your neck as you adjusted the thin gold chains hanging from your neck. You froze as her hand lingered lightly against your skin, and you could smell hints of her deep cherry perfume from your close proximity.

She only pulled away when JJ’s hand clamped down on your shoulder. "Hey, run to the restroom with me?” You were up and out of your seat with the tug of her hand before you nodded. Leaning on the sink, you frowned, watching JJ become obsessive over every inch of her appearance, something she only did when she was nervous.

"Are you okay? You seem a little on edge tonight."

Her face cracked into a small smile. "Yeah, I’m okay, just feeling a bit off. You notice everything.” Her smile turned into a real one, and she wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you in for a quick kiss on the cheek. "Thank you for checking in on me.”

Elle slid back against the seat so you could slide back into the booth when you returned to the table. As you squeeze by with your hands braced on the table, you feel Elle’s hands drift up to your lower back, sending a flurry of butterflies up in your stomach. Her hands fell back into her lap as you sat down, but you caught a small smirk on her face.

Eventually the waiter started to linger around the table. You got the hint and started passing around the bills. The team walked out in a huddle, shielded from the cold, dropping everyone off at the cars. Once you reached Emily’s car, you were left alone with JJ and Elle. Morgan and Penelope had gotten distracted, lingering in the entryway. "Here, we can take you home,” you suggested without hesitation. Pulling open the door, you stepped back, allowing Elle to climb into the back seat.

"Thanks, love,” she said, squeezing your arm that she was still clinging to.

JJ became excessively touchy for the rest of the car ride. Her hand rested on your thigh permanently, and you slowly rubbed her hand up and down your leg at every stoplight. Elle seemed perfectly content in the back, focused on her text messages, while JJ started talking about what the two of you might do this weekend or breezily joining a conversation when she found a smooth opening. The fact that she wasn’t as quick to fall into JJ’s jealous state was irritating your best friend. She knew you could be quickly defensive at times, even when it was silly, but her head just wouldn't let it go when it came to you. She had always held your dating partners to higher standards than her other friends, even though very few of them ever became serious. Contrary to when she first joined the BAU as the teams communications liaison, she enjoyed time spent with you individually much more than team gatherings.

As you approached the hotel, Elle leaned forward by your shoulder, guiding you toward the parking lot of the building she was staying in. While gathering up her stuff, she stopped with her hand on the handle. "Do you guys want to come in for a moment? The best I can offer you is coffee and vending machine snacks, but I’d like to get to know you more in a quiet setting.”

“Sure!”

“ Actual-” JJ stopped when she heard the excitement in your voice and decided to remain quiet with difficulty. She took a deep breath, got out, and jogged to catch up to you and Elle, who was waiting with the door held open.

The elevator ride up was awkward to say the least. Nobody talked or barely breathed, which actually made it twice as unbearable. You were stuck between wanting to spend time with your best friend and comforting newcomers and also feeling stuck between the tension that had followed the three of you around all night but not being able to figure out its cause.

"The coffee station is down the hall if anybody wants some." Elle trailed off as she dug through her purse for the hotel’s key card.

"I can go grab three,”you offered.

"Thank you so much; it’s three rooms down on the right."

You shuffled down the mall to pour up cups for the three of you while Elle let JJ inside. Quickly pressing on three lids, you cautiously headed back down the hall. Elle’s door was still cracked open a bit, and you could hear their voices from inside.

You were ready to walk right in, but something about their tone stopped you. The jealousy and tight-lipped questions from the rest of the night seemed to have disappeared, and they were talking softly like old friends again.

"How long have you known?"

You recognized Elle’s voice as the slightly lower one and felt bad for eavesdropping, but your curiosity got the better of you. Known what? JJ told you everything, or at least that’s what you assumed.

You heard JJ sigh, and she took a moment to reply. You imagined her resting her head against her hand, like she did whenever she anxiously planned out her answer. "I honestly didn’t know until tonight. I thought I just liked her as a friend, but when the possibility of her being with someone else came up, I realized that I wanted her.”

You heard Elle release a heavy breath. Her voice became quieter, as if she had moved farther away from the door. "You have to tell her, Jay. You’ve been the closest of friends for, like, 8 years now?”

“I hate those kinds of conversations. They’re also so awkward, and I’m not good at expressing my feelings. And how would I even know if we have the attraction and chemistry aspect, not just a romantic connection?

Elle chuckled. "Sex, JJ, that would be the answer.

"Ugh, but sex with someone who I called a friend all of ten minutes before has always been awkward. It always seems restrained or calculated. I would just want to see if we could... Have fun, you know? I can’t believe I’m telling you all of this. You still have that effect on people.

"What, the one that makes people want to confess to a crush on their best friend and sex life? I think that’s just you babes.” High-pitched laughter from both of them blended together.

"If you want something new and exciting, then initiate something new and exciting. I think it would be a terrible mistake to pass up the possibility of something working out between you. I mean, have you seen her?

There was a long silence and then an exchange of gasps between them that made you think they might be having a conversation with their eyes.

“No, are you serious?”

You began to only be able to hear clips of the conversation. The rest was only in barely audible whispers that you were unable to discern.

"I mean, only if you’re interested. No strings, of course; I’ll be leaving. I do happen to be great at loosening people up, and I’m not saying I wouldn’t enjoy it. I also completely understand if your answer is no, jealousy is complicated."

Someone began approaching you from the other end of the hotel hallway, and you didn’t want to be caught seemingly eavesdropping on a hotel guest's conversation. Slipping inside, you shut the door behind you loud enough to announce your return.

"Hey darling, you can just set them on the counter over there.” Elle called out from her spot, sprawled out on the corner of her couch. JJ sat on the other end. Neither of their faces hid the effects of their conversation well, but while Elle’s was a deepening sense of confidence, JJ’s was a spreading blush and eyes darting back and forth. "Was the machine slow again? You took a minute."

You shifted your weight back and forth on the heels of your feet as you debated telling them you had overheard. Your eyes darted to the hotel door that had been propped open, possibly purposefully. Maybe you were reading into it, but you had seen the caution and paranoia that takes over FBI agents even in their personal lives. Elle should be no exception, and wouldn’t live hotel doors in the center of the city propped open. “ I um overheard snippets of your conversation and it sounded serious, so I decided I’d wait outside until you were finished.

Elle smiled softly, glancing at JJ to watch her expression just as you were. She went through every emotion in about twenty seconds. Her face grew pale with the natural instinct of being overheard, but then she almost looked more relieved. Possibly one less awkward conversation out of the way, she didn’t have to hide it like a secret from you any longer, and the ball was now in your court.

"We've been friends for years JJ. I think you already know what my response will be. I’m open to it, all of it.” The words rolled off your tongue as you tilted your head, and both women straightened up with attention.

"God,” Elle chuckled under her breath, sipping at the drink you handed her.

You smirked, tilting your head toward the bedroom a few steps away, and reveled at the way JJ’s eyes darkened with desire. Both women were silently up and behind you with soft footsteps as you climbed on the bed. They stood on the edge while you kneeled into the mattress.

Elle pulled off JJ's jacket, letting it fall to the floor. Goosebumps rose along the back of the blonde’s neck. You reached forward and tugged her closer to you by her belt, causing her breath to hiccup. You undid her belt painfully slowly while she tangled her hands in your hair. Elle was slightly turned away, undressing in front of the nightstand. Your heartbeat fluttered at the sight of a harness hanging from her hips. JJ tugged on your hair, sending sparks through your scalp. "Let me eat you out baby,” you begged, dragging your nails down her thighs with a cheshire grin.

“Sit on her face,” Elle challenged as she orchestrated your positions all while climbing up in between your legs.

JJ seemed hesitant to have her weight balanced above your mouth and gripped the headboard harshly. With gentle reassurance, you guide her downwards until she gasped at the contact of your lips brushing against her cunt. Elle spurred you on, dragging her red faux cock along your slick folds. Your hands grabbed at JJ’s ass, enjoying the soft pants that fell from her lips as your tongue explored her. Flicking her clit sent quivers through her thighs, and she moved her hands down to your chest, kneading your breasts.

It didn’t take you long to realize Elle was reacting along with you. Every time your lips closed around JJ’s clit, stimulating the sensitive bundle of nerves, Elle thrust into you with a bruising grip on your hips. Each of your movements drew JJ and consequently, yourself closer to an orgasm.

Elle’s pace suddenly quickened, causing you to moan. JJ cried out from the vibrations, digging red crescents into your skin. "Fuck,” she panted. "You're doing so good baby,” she praised, wiping the mix of juices from the corner of your mouth. Bringing her fingers to her mouth, she hollowed out her cheeks as she sucked them clean. Returning your mouth to her cunt with fresh motivation, you ran your tongue along her slit, and her thighs clenched over your ears. All sound became muted by the sound of blood rushing in your head and JJ’s murmuring off soft praises as she ran her fingers over all of your body that she could reach.

You felt your legs stretch as Elle rested your heels on her shoulders. The new angle allowed her to pound in with you at a breathtaking new angle. Just as the rough movement of her hips rocking against yours was about to transform into pain, a smooth, ecstatic feeling left your lungs traveling through your limbs with a hazy sensation.

JJ elicited a combination of moans and satisfied whimpers as her body tensed and her cum coated your lips with a trembling orgasm. Her toned thighs relaxed from alongside your head and she ran her thumbs down your flushed cheeks. When she leaned backwards, Elle supported her easily, rubbing her hands up and down JJ’s legs from behind her.

Untangling yourselves, the three of you collapsed into the sheets with heartbeats pounding out of your chests and the quick rise and fall of your lungs. After a moment, JJ rolled over, tucking her arm around your waist. Lifting her head, she peered over your head to Elle, who was smiling at JJ’s soft act of affection from across the bed.

Your eyes were fluttering in and out, not focused enough to read their lips as they mouthed back and forth to each other. Elle, on the other hand, smirked at JJ’s exaggerated mouth shapes to convey an "Oh my god.”

Elle tipped her head with her everlasting confidence, responding with a silent, "You're welcome, that was…” She was unable to string her words together for the first time all night. JJ grinned adoringly as she rested her head on the pillow beside yours, curling her chin into your neck. Your eyelids finally sank completely closed upon the touch of her warm embrace.

[readychilledwine]

Happy Birthday, High Lord!

Summary - You and Lucien pulled all the stops for Tamlin's birthday this year. Now you just have to hope your mate appreciates it.

Warnings - sexual jokes and innuendos, implied possible smut at the end

Prompt - Day 6 - Celebration

A/n - Happy @polyacotarweek day 6! I'm not super happy with this one. I probably would have been had I added the smut at the end, but I wanted my trouple to be wholesome instead.

💕Poly+ACOTAR Week Masterlist💕

“Meticulous.” Whenever someone asked Tamlin and Lucien to describe you, that was the first word that came to mind.

“Blabbermouth” would be the next thing. It wasn't that you couldn't keep secrets in general. It was that you struggled to keep secrets from them from Lucien and Tamlin.

Lucien kept a straight face, the string connected to you pulled tight as Tamlin stared you down, green eyes sparkling with joy. “Tell me, petal.”

They both burst into laughter as you shoved a muffin into your mouth, then pointed and shook your head. “Just take her for a ride, Tamlin.”

“I will let her ride whenever she wants. I just want to know why we are going out for the day while you stay here.”

Lucien sighed. “Just take her out.” You continued chewing, blinking at the two of them every so often. “Or else I will just ride you, and we can go out.”

You glared at him as he smirked before shaking your head and pouting at Tamlin. You and Lucien knew Tamlin like the backs of your hands, and when he opened his mouth, you knew the two of you had played him like a fiddle. “Just for pouting, Lucien and I will head to town. You can stay here.”

Lucien tugged the bond twice as you continued the act, sending his love your way as the two of them stood. Lucien was the first to kiss you. He always would be. The kiss was gentle and warm before he then kissed your forehead with a quickly returned “I love you.” 

Tamlin always kissed you last. You were their's, yes, but you had been his first, and he had risked everything to protect you from Amarantha and Hybern. It had taken so long for you two to find each other again that he had almost lost hope.

His hands rested on your cheeks as he pulled you in, soft lips fitting to yours like a puzzle. “Be good.”

“I will. I promise.” 

“I love you, little rose.” 

“I love you,” you refused to add the “too”. You always did with both of them. You didn't love them just because they loved you. You loved them because you genuinely did. You waited for Lucien to give the signal, the bond tugging one last time before getting to work.

The Manor was eerily silent when Lucien and Tamlin returned hours later. The faelights had been turned off, and the servant's area was even silent. Tamlin was immediately on edge, and Lucien led them in. You were nowhere to be found. “Maybe the ballroom?”

“She wanted to redecorate it. Maybe she is planning.” Lucien led Tamlin that way, hiding his smile the best he could. He mentally counted the years to himself, 55 years. They had not celebrated Tam's birthday in 55 years.

Lucien pushed open the large rosewood door, allowing Tamlin in and watching as his face fell and you dropped the sound ward. Inside, a lively party was beginning. 

Tarquin was standing next to you and waved. Helion was laughing with Thesan in the corner. Fae were dancing and laughing in all directions. Every high lord and their respective circle had come, all excited to finally be welcomed into the newly repaired Spring.

“Happy birthday, Tam,” Lucien looked at him. “Aren't you happy I demanded you dress nicely for our date now? Oh look, there's Feyre, you could go tell her that her hair looks clean.” The mentioned female waves from where she was spinning Nyx, smile bright as Rhysand watched and laughed. The Lord of Night nodded to Tamlin. While their relationship had not been 100% fixed, it had at least become civil.

Tamlin was shocked. Standing there with his eyes wide. “How?”

Lucien shrugged and inclined his head to you. “She's magic.”

You and Lucien had ensured everything was perfect. His closest friends and repaired relationships were all there. His favorite cake sat on a table waiting for him. The two of them took their places at your side, smiling and greeting their guests and friends as they watched you receive constant praise at the party. Lucien held your hand as Tamlin kept an arm around your waist, keeping you both close to him. 

He had not expected this. Tamlin had expected a small dinner with the three of you, possibly a gift from you, and a verbal sparring match from Lucien, but this was above all expectations. He couldn't help but smile all night, hand staying in its place on your hip while his other would go from being free to touching Lucien. 

You leaned in and kissed his cheek as the night started to close down and guests turned to their respective rooms. “Did you have a happy birthday?” 

You both looked to where Lucien and Eris were having an animated discussion regarding foxes versus the newly crowded Autumn Lord's precious hounds. “I did. The weather was beautiful. Lucien and I got to enjoy the market. We laid out in the flower field. Had a lovely dinner. And then I come home to all of this. It must have taken you hours to plan this.”

“A few days.” 

“I don't deserve it.”

“I have two beautiful and loving mates ensuring I do that.”

“You deserve the world. You are not that male anymore. You have healed, and you have found closure. Think of this birthday as a new beginning. Permission to move on."

Your lip twitched up, “The red-haired male is definitely the prettiest.”

“Easily.”

“We should do something about it.”

Tamlin smirked. “I have a few things in mind. They are not appropriate for the present company, though.”

“Ah, so we're going to fuck him.”

“Another night, maybe. Some pretty female offered to ride me earlier. I'd like to take her up on that.” You felt Tamlin tug both sides of the bond, excusing you both to retire for the night and informing Lucien of where to find you both. “If she'd still like to that is.”

Your eyes had already gone slightly hazed, fingers intertwining more with his. “Yes please.”

“Then I've had the perfect birthday. A date with my husband. Sex with my wife. A party. What more could a simple high lord ask for.”

“A threesome!” A familiar voice appeared next to you, smile bright and voice breathless. “A birthday threesome.”

General Taglist:

@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanagers @bloodicka @starsinyourseyes @the-sweet-psycho @mariahoedt @rinalouu @sarawritestories @starryhiraeth @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @cumuluscranium @loneliestluvr @eternallyelvish @azrielsmate3 @daughterofthemoons-stuff @meritxellao @aria-chikage @hungryforbatboys @lilah-asteria

Poly+ACOTAR Week Taglist

@amara-moonlight @toporecall @littlestw01f @prettylittlewrites @anuttellaa @nayaniasworld @123345566

[scuttlingcrab]

What if Raphael sent Tav an embarrassing gift? Something he'd definitely find pleasure in, but Tav would be mortified to receive? xD

LOL. Thank you for sending me this one. I died writing this, had me grinning from beginning to end. x

Summary: Raphael gives Tav, his very favourite client, a generous gift after she signs his contract.

Notes: Some suggestive imagery from the devil we know and love.

Link to my other work in the Devil's Archive.

The Devil's Muse

(Image via keylana-dragon)

“I beg your indulgence. A brief word, before you depart.” 

Raphael spoke in a low rumble, intending his voice for Tav but unperturbed whether or not the other companions overheard him. 

Tav hesitated, her ears perking up as his voice shattered the silence. She hovered near the door of his suite in Sharess’ Caress, halfway through the threshold as she attempted to make her leave. Shadowheart, Astarion, and Karlach waited on the landing outside, the companions lingering like flies on a rotten corpse. 

Raphael casually leaned against the desk, resting his hands on the smooth, rich rosewood. He lightly tapped his fingers on the surface, warming up his digits before the second performance began. 

The little mouse was always the last to leave his company, lagging behind her companions. It was only for a moment, but that was long enough for Raphael to take note, keeping a detailed record after each encounter.

She tried to play coy, never giving Raphael the satisfaction of losing himself in those dark delectable eyes. He could often feel Tav’s gaze on him as soon as he turned his back to her, those eyes burning through his very body and spirit. 

Despite her attempts of acting aloof, with her crossed arms and narrowed lips, she remained at the forefront of their conversations. Raphael would catch her leaning towards him, edging closer as he spoke his rhymes of wisdom and warning. Tav in turn spoke softly when she addressed Raphael, her words blunt yet voice cracking with emotion. 

That confounded mortal fanned the flames of his desires the more detached she presented herself. She was becoming a nuisance; occupying every waking thought and following him freely into every dream. Raphael had an insatiable longing for carnality, his chest overflowing with passion. He had been reduced to his primal instincts, letting his lust for that woman lead his motivations instead of his ambitions for the Crown. He would need to be more cautious. 

“There is one thing I wish to show you… now that the contract has been signed.”

Tav raised an eyebrow, biting her bottom lip as she watched Raphael, waiting for him to continue.

“What in the flaming Hells does he want now?” Karlach shouted, shoving her obnoxious face through the doorway. “C’mon soldier, we need to leave.” 

Karlach placed a hand on Tav’s arm, trying to lure her outside. Tav remained cemented, grabbing Karlach’s hand in return. 

“Hold on a minute.” Tav responded, “let’s hear what he has to say.”

“It would be in your best interest, little mouse, if it was just the two of us.” An edge of warning in Raphael’s tone.

“Oh, go on then, devil.” Karlach sneered.

“Come now, Karlach, no need to be unpleasant. Can we not speak with civility?” 

Tav regarded the situation with curiosity, her intense stare shifting around the room. Raphael could just about hear the rusted cogs turning inside of that tadpoled infested brain of hers.

Tav nodded, walking to the centre of the suite. 

“Alright, Raphael. I’m not interested in any more secrets. Whatever you have to say or show can be done in front of everyone.”

Karlach stomped her way into the room, standing close behind Tav. The Tiefling's infernal engine roared, the flames in her chest growing more chaotic as she shot Raphael a scathing glance. Shadowheart and Astarion shared a few hushed words as they followed Karlach, shuffling reluctantly back inside the Devil’s Den. 

“So be it, if you insist.” 

Raphael snapped his fingers and a large painting sizzled into view, suspended above them. The entire party gasped in unison. 

“A gift for my new treasured client.”

The painting showcased Tav reclining on a leather chaise lounge against a dark grey backdrop, her body bending with pleasure. She was draped in a red robe, the sleeves falling loosely off her slender shoulders, stopping just above the hill of her breasts. Her eyes were closed and her lips wore a savoury smile, as if she was on the cusp of release. Her dark wavy hair poured off the edge of the furniture like a waterfall. 

Raphael beamed, his lips curling into a satisfied smirk as he respected the painting in the very presence of his muse. He had painted Tav’s likeness from memory, hoping he would be able to do her justice by capturing her unique beauty on the canvas. 

Whether Tav signed Raphael’s contract that afternoon was debatable, he would’ve delivered his gift to the little mouse regardless of the outcome.

He had worked diligently behind the scenes since their last rendezvous in the Shadow-Cursed Lands; sketching mockups, painting, re-painting, one failed canvas after another, until he successfully recreated the image that plagued his mind for what felt like an eternity.

Raphael knew it would never be perfect, he still found flaws as he stared at the painting; minor errors in the brushstrokes, a few shadows that could’ve perhaps been blended better. He only hoped it added to the charm and the little mouse would not notice. 

Raphael returned his attention to his guests, immediately observing Tav. She was frozen in place, her eyes wide and fixed on the painting, as if she was hypnotised by it. There was something different to her face now, something Raphael always yearned to see from the mortal. A faint gleam in those eyes, a playful smile slowly crawling up her delicate lips the more she stared at the artwork. Had he stirred something in the little mouse? At long last? 

“Perhaps, at a later time, we can admire it together, once the Crown is in my possession, yes? Until then, it will remain in my House of Hope. For safekeeping, naturally.”

“This has got to be a fucking joke, right?” Karlach shouted, getting in between Tav and Raphael. “I told you he was a creep!”

“I don’t know, it does capture her essence... in a drab, lifeless kind of way.” Shadowheart murmured, her cheeks blushing as she continued to gape at the painting.  

“And here I was thinking only his poetry was questionable.” Astarion whispered, giggling like an ill-behaved schoolboy. 

“I often forget how ignorant you mortals are. A pity.” 

Raphael straightened his posture and kept his chin held high. He tightly clasped his hands behind his back, imagining what it would feel like to have his fingers around the companions' brittle necks, ridding them of their pitiful lives. Those foolish twits would feel his wrath in due time. Perhaps one, or two, would perish when they fought the Elder Brain. Yes, that would be most preferable.

Raphael instead approached Tav, ignoring the companions and their onslaught of criticisms. He turned to face the painting, standing beside her. Raphael could see Tav out of the corner of his eye, feeling the warmth radiating off her body as she continued to stare at the artwork. 

“I never took you for a painter, Raphael.”  

“I occasionally dabble in mortal amusements from time to time, when I’m feeling inclined.”

“And do you always give your clients such risqué gifts? These types of things are open to suggestions.” 

“It’s an innocent gift, I assure you. But now I am most curious, what does this painting tell you?”

Raphael crossed his arms, his fingers trembling as he raised a hand to his chin, anticipating her answer. 

“A promise of what could be? Maybe what more could be offered?”

“Very astute. I have been known to provide exceptional entertainment when certain deals have been met.”

Raphael tilted his head, taking an opportunity to lean towards Tav. It was a subtle gesture, but their bodies were now touching, linked together. With his arms still crossed, he removed an index finger from his lower extremity, lightly caressing Tav’s exposed forearm. The little mouse did not flinch at his touch but he saw her smile grow. 

“One note though.” Tav whispered. 

“Go on?” 

“I think my jawline is a bit off, don’t you think?”

Raphael bit his tongue, unsure whether he wanted to incinerate the little mouse or take her by the neck and violently kiss her.

Raphael had Tav's signature but he’d only praise the occasion when that little mouse bestowed the Crown to him. Her contract didn’t amount to a hill of beans when compared to his grander schemes. Raphael would not rest until he had succeeded in his plight to unite the Nine Hells, until he faced Mephistopheles, and claimed his birthright. 

Raphael had once made a promise to himself not to allow any distractions. It was too perilous, opening him up to failure and eternal punishment. But that damned little mouse found a way through his defences, crept through the cracks of what he thought was a sturdy foundation. The woman had caught Raphael in her snare. Until he held her in his arms, until she was his, she would continue to plague his dreams. Perhaps along the road to ascension, he would add Tav’s heart to his list of conquests. 

“I will make sure to keep that in mind for my next piece.” Raphael noted, turning to face the rest of the party. 

The silence was heavy, the awkwardness weighing on the companions. Raphael stared at each of them until they looked away, unable to handle the intense heat of his gaze without melting. 

“You may take your leave. The room is getting far too crowded for my tastes.” Raphael waved the party off, walking back to his desk. He left the painting floating above him. 

“Gods, I thought he’d never ask. Fucking prick.” Karlach whispered, practically sprinting out the room. 

“Tav, you owe me a damned drink.” Astarion groaned.

Shadowheart had no words, but she curiously eyed the painting a final time before trailing after Astarion. 

“Don’t disappoint me, little mouse. The fate of the world, our very futures, hang over your shoulders.”

Tav remained in the room, staring amorously into Raphael’s eyes. He held his breath, relishing the seconds he was allowed to devour her magnificence.

“Thank you." Tav mouthed, and quickly made her exit.

Raphael released a sigh, resting a hand on his desk to keep himself from combusting. That damned woman.

The curtain had fallen on this act, but it was not yet the finale. Change was brewing, mists of uncertainty clouding Raphael’s judgement, and for once, he was not fearful of what was to come.

[writerofsorts]

Moment of Suspicion

(image creds: to the owner)

pairing: jason dilaurentis x female reader.

summary: 2x03 "my name is trouble" episode imagine/rewrite.

warnings: none.

*read previous part here!

—————

A week later, [Y/N] came to an empty home from school. After grabbing a snack, she decided to do some reading before starting her homework.

Just as she finished up a chapter, her phone rang from next to her on her bed. When she saw the caller was Spencer, she frowned in worry. Placing the bookmark on the recent page, she closed the book before answering her phone.

"Hey, Spence," she greeted, placing her book on the nightstand before sitting up on the bed again. "Everything okay?"

"Hey, [y/n/n]. Yeah, everything's fine!" Spencer answered rather enthusiastically, which made [Y/N]'s brows furrow.

"Alright, Spence, spill," she said in a playful stern voice and heard Spencer sigh on the other end.

"I may have called you to ask a favor," the brunette answered slowly.

"Sure, what is it?" asked [Y/N].

"Toby's working for Jason and I'm really worried," Spencer explained. "Can you check on him for me, please?"

"Wait, since when did Toby start working for Jason?" [Y/N] questioned, surprised.

"Since this afternoon," Spencer replied.

"You don't sound too happy about it," [Y/N] said.

"How can I be?" Spencer sighed. "For all we know, Jason could be hiding Ian, protecting him, in that creepy house."

"Spence," [Y/N] sighed this time. "I still don't think Jason would want to help his sister's murderer."

"Then, how do you explain the shadow I saw in his house yesterday?" Spencer challenged. "[y/n/n], I was right outside talking to him when I saw someone move upstairs. And, he told me he lived alone. He was clearly lying."

[Y/N] remained silent, processing Spencer's words. She still didn't believe Jason could be helping Ian hide.

However, she did find Jason's sudden return to Rosewood pretty strange. It was true that he didn't owe anyone explanation; yet, his cold demeanor towards her friends confused her because she had thought he had changed after working on Ali's memorial with them.

"Hello? Earth to [y/n/n]?" Spencer interrupted her from her thoughts.

"Sorry, I'm here," [Y/N] replied, shaking her head, hoping to remove her suspicious thoughts regarding Jason. "But, yeah, I'll go check on him."

"Thanks so much, [y/n/n], I owe you one," Spencer breathed out.

"No problem," smiled [Y/N]. "But, I have to ask you something."

"Sure," Spencer replied.

"You literally live right next door to Jason," [Y/N] spoke. "Why not just peak and make sure Toby's okay?"

"I tried," Spencer sighed out. "But, I couldn't see anything."

"It's okay," [Y/N] chuckled. "Alright, I'll check on your defenseless boyfriend and update you soon."

"You're very funny, you know that?" Spencer deadpanned.

"Sorry, I just had to," [Y/N] giggled. "Don't worry too much, alright? I'm sure Toby's okay."

"I'll try," Spencer replied. "Thanks again, [y/n/n]."

"Of course, talk to you later," [Y/N] answered and the two said their goodbyes before hanging up.

…

Once [Y/N] got near the DiLaurentis house, she noticed a shirtless and sweaty Toby first, who seemed to be hard at work with a shovel in his hands. With another few steps, she noticed Jason who was dressed in a tight blue t-shirt and faded denim jeans as he placed some heavy bags in a wheelbarrow.

She took a deep breath in to calm her racing heart as she walked closer to the two men. Her steps must've been quiet because neither Toby nor Jason took notice of her, lost in their work.

"Hello," she greeted, causing the two men to look up at her in surprise.

"Hello, [Y/N]," Jason greeted her back with a smile, standing straight as Toby did the same.

"Hey, [y/n/n], what are you doing here?" Toby asked, resting his hands on top of the shovel.

"A little birdie told me that you got a job so I figured I'd stop by and say congratulations," she replied, hoping her breathy voice didn't give away how nervous she was -- especially with Jason's gaze on her.

"Is that little birdie's name Spencer?" Toby asked, smiling mischievously.

"Of course, not," [Y/N] said, a little too fast for her liking. "Haven't you heard? My friends and I are spending some time apart. Doctor's orders."

"I just saw you guys together recently," Jason replied before Toby could and [Y/N] looked at him. She knew he was talking about the time he caught the girls sneaking out at night a couple of days ago.

[Y/N] looked back at Toby, who had a Cheshire cat grin on his face.

"I wonder if that was before or after the doctor's orders," he commented.

"It- it was before," [Y/N] replied slowly and shifted to look at Jason when she noticed Toby didn't believe her words.

"It's alright, I won't tell anyone," Jason chuckled, holding up his hands. A few moments later, he cleared his throat before asking, "I'm gonna grab a drink. Do you guys want something?"

"I'm okay," Toby replied just as [Y/N] said, "No, thank you."

Jason gave her a smile in return before turning to walk inside the house.

"Alright, [y/n/n], what are you really doing here?" Toby asked quietly once Jason had disappeared inside the house.

[Y/N] sighed and walked closer to Toby, glancing at the closed door of the DiLaurentis house once.

"Spencer sent me," she admitted, making sure to keep her voice as quiet as Toby.

"I had a feeling," Toby sighed.

"She's really worried," [Y/N] said.

"Why is she so scared about me working for Jason?" Toby asked in genuine confusion. "I mean, he's been nothing but nice to me so far."

"She thinks he's hiding Ian," [Y/N] whispered, taking another glance at the shut door.

"That's insane!" Toby said a little loudly when [Y/N] shushed him.

"I don't know what goes through your girlfriend's brain," [Y/N] shrugged playfully.

"What do you think?" Toby asked her suddenly.

"Sorry?" [Y/N] frowned.

"Do you think Jason's suspicious too?" Toby questioned her and [Y/N] dropped her gaze from his for a moment.

"He hasn't really given me a reason to be suspicious about him so far," she finally said, looking up at Toby, who nodded at her in understanding.

Before Toby could reply to her, Jason walked out of the house, carrying out a trash bag with him.

"I would invite you guys in but the place is kind of crazy," he said once he was closer to Toby and [Y/N].

He threw the bag to the side when it opened and several bloodied gauze fell out of it.

[Y/N] stiffened in her spot and her eyes widened at the sight. She looked at Toby, who looked at her, concerned. She had a feeling Toby might've been reconsidering their conversation and to be honest, so was she.

"Uh, I cut myself," Jason explained with an awkward chuckle, rubbing his palms in his jeans.

"Hope you're okay now," [Y/N] said meekly once she was able to get some words out.

"Yeah, it was just a small cut," Jason replied and [Y/N] nodded.

"Well, I should get going now," she said, slowly backing out of the DiLaurentis yard. "It was nice seeing you two. Good night."

"Good night, [Y/N]," Jason answered.

"Thanks for stopping by, [y/n/n]," Toby told her with a smile. "Text me when you get home, okay?"

"Will do," [Y/N] smiled back at him and gave one last wave to Jason before turning around and making her way towards her home.

While walking, she sent a quick text to Spencer, letting the latter know that Toby was okay. She decided to keep the suspicious-bloodied-gauze from Jason's trash to herself as she knew sharing this with Spencer would make her friend go on a dangerous hunt to know what was up with Jason.

—————

[silverflqmes]

sephiroth x reader where he meets this amazing girl (note: you) and she cooks him a homemade meal but he freaks out because he doesnt understand how to take it properly? but he starts crying of joy because he's happy to take it since he read about how moms treat their kids and he just kinna finds solace in this girl and wants find her again but obviously shinra keeps having other plans until finally one DAY she comes back again and you can decide what happens next :)

໒⦂ 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔.

notes. i may have indulged a little ( a lot ) here, anon.. but i hope it’s somewhat okay.. brb i might have to ugly cry after this.. he makes me so😿 IM NOT NORMAL ANYMORE SOBS

genre. hurt + comfort

tw. discussion of bad eating habits.

sephiroth x gn!reader

the water came to a boil as you threw in your spaghetti, twisting the knob on low for the sauce you’d prepared.

sephiroth would be home any minute and as a reward for working as hard as he did everyday, you had taken it upon you to prepare his most favorite meal for him. it wasn’t too hard to cook, luckily, but hopefully it tasted good.

you allowed the pasta to come to a boil, taking the time to set the table nicely. while sephiroth wasn’t one for the fancy shit or grandeur, you wanted to provide him with a good ambience. he deserved it, anyway.

on a trip to sector five, you’d managed to score a dozen of flowers from a sweet girl zack was interested — aerith, as you recalled. somehow he had started her on a business with her rare blooms, it was creative and cute that he’d made the time to do that with her.

while passing by him, he had urged you to buy some to help her start out — which you were happy to do. certainly when they made the perfect centerpiece and smelled pleasantly.

the bubbles began to surface in your absence, a jingling sound entering your ears once you’d returned to turn off the heat. sephiroth was home!

a smile lifted the corners of your mouth as you wiped a bead of sweat from your forehead before walking up to the door when he emerged. “welcome home, sephiroth!”

his face that was colored with exhaustion instantly contorted into one of ease, lips curling at the sight of you, his precious partner. were you waiting for him? how adorable.

the first class SOLDIER leaned in closely to your face and bestowed you with a chaste kiss, chuckling softly. “thank you, y/n. it’s a lovely sight to find you here,” he continued, holding your cheek in his gloved hand before looking behind you. “i see you’ve been busy.”

your cheeks burned at his words, a fuzzy feeling finding its way to your chest as you let out a sheepish laugh. “a-ah, i may have helped myself to your kitchen.. i hope you don’t mind.” he wouldn’t mind, he never did — but you still felt the need to say so.

his thumb rolled over your soft skin, a sound of amusement tumbling past his lips. “not at all, might i ask what you prepared yourself?”

blinking, you then proceeded to quirk a brow before snorting. “i composed a gourmet meal for the both of us, featuring candlelight and flowers. up to your standards, mr. first class?” you joked, to which he rolled his eyes, playfully.

“you treat me as if i were royalty.” sephiroth turned his head away, failing to suppress the small lift to his rosewood appendages.

you took ahold of his leather clad hand, snickering softly. “the best way to treat you, according to your dearest lover!” came your cheery response as you tugged him forward. “now come on, i doubt a battlefield has a scheduled lunch or dinner time!”

the silver haired male couldn’t argue with that reasoning. some missions went without food for long periods of time — just another thing he’d learnt to bear over the years. the human body could go weeks without alimentation, and he was no stranger to being denied or prevented from having a meal.

however, upon meeting you and having explained that reasoning to you early into your relationship.. he was met with quite a different perspective. while the SOLDIER found eating to be secondary — something that he would indulge in if the time and situation was right, you.. stressed it.

it had come as a great shock when he would announce he’d only had breakfast for the entirety of the day — which was basically just a bar or shake.. the bare minimum, in other words. frustrated, you’d scolded him that very evening before falling into a routine of meal preparation.

you didn’t care if he had to show up with this cutesy lunch box in a den of SOLDIERs, but it better have been emptied or so help you.

sephiroth had been greatly confused by your concern, and quite frankly — still was, however he understood where you were coming from ( despite lacking the same care for himself that you showed him ), and ate every last bite.

“i suppose i have to agree with that.” the long haired swordsman finally answered, bringing his steps to a halt before your work.

it wasn’t like you hadn’t made him food before, but this time felt different. you always put your all into everything, though this felt extra, extra special, somehow. perhaps, being cooked dinner was more.. intimate?

you patted his armored shoulder, grinning. “good! now get comfy while i get your plate ready, i used up the wine for the sauce.. so um, just water for tonight — but you need it!!”

with that, you had dashed back over to the kitchen, leaving behind a chuckling sephiroth. he’d never seen someone be so serious over dinner, it was silly. and yet, endearing all at the same time that you cared so deeply for his health when everyone had taught or treated him otherwise.

“are you certain you don’t require my assistance?” he inquired, leaning back in his seat to see if you were managing.

a laugh echoed from kitchen at his expression of concern. “nope! you just sit tight, on my way over now!” you assured, picking up your bowls and a basket of freshly sliced bread before making your way to the table.

despite your dismissal, the cat eyed hero made his way over to help with the placement, not wanting you to struggle any longer. you’d gone through great lengths for him today after all, it was the least he could do.

as sephiroth sat across from you, he was finally given the chance to take a look at what you’d put together, blinking in surprise.

“seafood pasta..?” he couldn’t remember the last time he had it. “how.. did you know?”

picking a piece of bread, you found yourself winking, suppressing a giggle. “i may or may not have asked cissnei.. given her network of information.” you smiled sheepishly, grabbing your silverware. “i hope that’s okay with you- i just wanted to make something you really, really liked!”

the first class SOLDIER was quiet for a moment, a strange warmth bubbling in his chest.

subconsciously, his hand lifted to touch where his heart had been, if only to find out what that strange feeling had been. “you.. you did that, for me?” his voice had almost come out in a weak whisper. the mako hued male was soft spoken to begin with, but this held more vulnerability than the other times.

an eager nod was the response he’d received, and despite his desire to question why, he took it as his cue to pick up his silverware, twirling the spaghetti with his fork. it.. had been a long time since he’d had his favorite dish, and homemade.. was a first.

as he tasted your work, he almost melted at the flavors — the nostalgia of it all. and yet.. it somehow was even better than any other occasion he had ordered or cooked it himself.

was it.. because you had made it specially for him? how odd, that the cooking from a specific person could affect the outcome so drastically.

“how is it?” you finally spoke up, curious to hear of his thoughts. “the seafood was a lucky find, i’m hoping it’s good and that i didn’t get scammed ahahaha..”

given midgar’s inland location, fish.. wasn’t something commonly sold, and if it was — it certainly would have costed a pretty gil. had you really gone through all this effort, just for him?

sephiroth swallowed the next bite he took, inclining his head. “it’s wonderful- nobody, i realize.. has ever done something like this for me before — or gone through as much trouble as you had to do this for me..” he spoke up in acknowledgment, feeling his eyes soften.. and blur?

why was his vision — was he.. crying?

the silver haired SOLDIER raised his gloved hands to brush the corners of his eyes. fresh tears, yes. he’d almost forgotten the feeling.

“seph-?” you blurted, getting up from your chair before rushing over to him. “oh no- is it bad?? are you having allergies — i didn’t put anything spicy in it.. a-ahh, i don’t have an allergy pen..” you panicked, dashing over to your purse before feeling a hand grasp your own.

your lashes fluttered in surprise when you were suddenly pulled into firm chest, silver draping over you as a pair of strong arms encircled your body.

“s-sephiroth?” you called out softly, worry in your voice as you rested your hands on his back, reciprocating the embrace. “everything okay? you’re crying..” you added quietly, frowning. did something happen?

he sucked in a breath, shaking his head. “i apologize- i didn’t mean to bring you anxiety with my sudden reaction.. the food was lovely, truly, and i.. could not be more grateful for it.” shinra’s hero began, relenting his grip a little. he didn’t want to hurt or bruise you after all with his strength. “i guess i was just.. taken by surprise, is all — being treated in this way is still.. rather foreign to me.” he admitted, attempting to even his voice out.

but you were patient, and listened to the best of your extent, at last understanding what he meant.

your boyfriend spoke little of his past, but the few things that he’d felt comfortable enough to elaborate on.. had been horrible to hear- it made your heart ache terribly in your chest.

“oh sephiroth..” you whispered gently, sliding your fingers into his hair comfortingly. “you’re okay, don’t apologize.. i was just worried since shellfish allergies are common..” you exhaled, panic dissipating. “i’m just glad you’re not sick.. but hey, you deserve this- alright? you work really hard everyday, you have been all your life.. this is the least i could do.”

he felt himself calm down gradually with your words, breaths slowly coming out more even. the male hadn’t planned on breaking down so suddenly, and while he felt bad.. you assured him that it was okay to react and feel as he did.

what.. made him so special to you? to go to all these extents for him and yet disregard all your efforts all at the same time..

“the ‘least’ you speak of hardly covers all that you do for me, y/n.. despite finding myself undeserving of your kindness.. i am forever grateful to be wanted and cared for by you — to be looked at in the way your eyes view me.. rather than the usual contempt and obsessive fascination scrutiny that i am met with.” he spoke after a brief silence, wanting to translate his feelings into words as best as possible.

they nearly had you melting, and out of pure adoration, you brought your lips at last to his. a reassurance that you had understood every bit of his feelings and that you had returned them all in full.

“you are every bit as deserving, sephiroth, as am i of you.. and i’ll always, always care for you. to me — you are everything, and worthy of all the love in the world.”

notes. screaming crying this is a little rushed towards the end but i hope it’s decent enough anon! my illiterate ass did not read the last bit of the request.. so i didn’t include the shinra bit😭 hope it’s okay!

↳ return to main masterlist . request rules . send an ask

[lucienarcheron]

Spirit Meets the Bones XXXI

Genre: Angst/Romance/Drama Warnings: Mentions of physical abuse. Author’s Note: dare I say...the end of my blue balling era has come.

shoutout to @divinerivals for being on this journey with me <3

Tagging: @climb-the-mountian / @rosewood-cafe / @vanserrass / @readthelastpaage / @teddyhoneybear / @zenkindoflove / @animezinglife / @positivewitch / @clockwork-ashes / @carnythian / @secret-third-thing / @runningwiththeoceans / @that-golden-lyre / @thedarkinmansfield / @readychilledwine / @goldenmagnolias / @mali22 / @maidr-00 / @electromagnetic-waves / @eastofatlanta / @moobell55 / @bibliophiliaxvignette / @devilsfoodcake22 / @weesablackbeak / @ladywhilemia / @alohaangels / @feysandfeels / @corcracrow / @dawneternal / @gracie-rosee / @mage-neve / @illyrianvalkyrie / @rainbowsnowflake /@queenoftheworld1998 /@wolvesnravens

Find it all here.

Pieces of her heart were being chipped away at what he was suggesting. As if Iris would be able to simply…continue with her life should he be taken from her. 

She had no doubt – none that Eris didn’t cherish having a mating bond as deeply as she did. For him to sit here and plan for her to move on…

As if she would have a life with her mate dead. 

“Are these the kind of thoughts you’ve been sitting on the last few days?” she finally asked. “This is what’s been going on in that head of yours?”

When Eris said nothing, Iris couldn’t help her scoff of indignation and she shook her head, rubbing a hand to her forehead in true exasperation, anguish clogging her throat. She was still struggling with the idea of leaving him on that cursed day and here he was, trying to find ways for her to cut her losses and continue life without him. 

“And you have the nerve to say that so casually,” she muttered and felt her chest tighten painfully. “Like the loss of my mate is something I’m supposed to accept. Like it’s so simple to…adjust.” 

He scowled, working his jaw. “It’s not simple. None of this is simple but if I can do anything to protect you, I will.”

“Are you serious?”

“Yes,” he said through clenched teeth. “If everything goes well and he’s dead by the end of it, I will ravish you to our heart’s content.” 

She stared at him incredulously. “If I slapped you right now, you’d deserve it.”

“I know.”

“What happened to ‘have faith it’ll end in our favor’?” she snapped. “I know you’re worried but for you to think that I’d be able to — to just move on should something happen to you…What is the matter with you?”

“I’m trying to take all the precautions I can, Iris.” he hissed. “The mating bond is a living thing – it’s real and people can sense it if we are together. They can scent it and while I can hide it as best as I can, there is always a fucken risk. Had we gone farther this morning – had our scents mingled – the mating bond would be strong, Iris. Far stronger than what it is now and the risk will be infinitely higher. Should anything happen to me, I don’t want it to be so catastrophic for you. If we can avoid it even a little bit –”

“There is a risk for everything, Eris!” she snarled and tried not to stutter as she continued, “Whether something happened to you or not – being mates won’t go away.”

“That is exactly why I don’t want anyone to know. In the event something happens to me, you’re not hunted down like an animal.” he snapped and avoided looking at her again. “If I can’t give you peace while I’m here, at least let me give you some peace if I’m gone.”

Iris could only stare at him, her hands slacked at her sides, her chest so tight. That ache she had felt this morning while watching him sleep returned in full force and she wanted to double over at the pain. The idea – the mere thought of anything happening to him – that he would cease to exist — a panic like no other unfurled through her whole body. 

Did he truly think he mattered that little to her? That she was somehow only sticking around at the convenience of being his wife and mate? 

“You’re being mean, Eris.” she said so miserably, that it made him finally meet her gaze.

“Iris.” he said softly, grimacing and she shook her head, distress coursing through every inch of her being.

“Are you truly so unaware of how much you mean to me, that you think the idea of you dying wouldn’t devastate me?” she whispered. “That I would want to have an out if you’re not with me?” 

Eris felt his insides shrivel, his body running both hot and cold, feeling wrecked by her words. He couldn’t help but look away, down at his hands – hands that had so much blood on them and would need to be soaked in more blood to get to the light at the end of the road. And here she was, saying things that would make it even harder for him to let her go.

As she watched him process, the way she always did, she thought back to her hesitation to confess her feelings to him for fear of him not saying it back. But knowing Eris and the way he was…she knew he needed words from her. He stayed in his head so often, Iris didn’t think he’d realize just how much she felt for him unless she said the words.

“Eris,” she called to him and he couldn’t stop himself from lifting his head and sharing a glance with her. “In case it wasn’t abundantly clear, I do not want to have a life without you.”

She said it so calmly – like the words wouldn’t crush him, to hear her say that. Even if he knew – he knew how she felt – for her emotions were usually a mirror to his own, but he was hit all over again with how badly he needed to hear it and it always seemed like she knew exactly what he needed. His wife – mate, who watched him the way he watched her, memorizing things about him and his wants, his needs.

He could hear the rapid beating of her heart, the flush on her cheeks giving away how nervous she was to say those words, like Eris hadn’t been drowning in his feelings for her since their first night together. 

Like he wasn’t so very overwhelmed by the sheer force of her existence. 

As if he wasn’t fighting just how obsessed he was with having her in his life.

“I’m not going to deny how I feel when everything is on the line like this.” Iris continued and took a step towards him. “I have been having all these feelings and it scared the shit out of me. Then we find out we’re mates and suddenly, everything about us makes sense.” She paused for a moment, swallowing as they watched each other, another type of declaration sitting on the tip of her tongue but Iris wasn’t ready yet; she’d save that for another day. “I’m not going to sit here and let you make plans that separate us because of what your father could do,” she said, waving a hand helplessly. “I’m not going to let him win.”

“I don’t want him to win.” he could only bring himself to say, his voice hoarse. 

“That’s exactly what you’re doing when you sit here and say those things to me,” she said. “When you belittle what we have and how – how significant it is. I’m your wife and mate and that’ll never not be a risk. We were complete strangers yet somehow, the stars aligned and here we are. On the cusp of something that’ll change the trajectory of our lives and everything we know…” Her mouth was set in a firm line as she continued quietly, “I’ll be damned if I let you think that you can hold me at a distance because of what may or may not happen. When you try and act like it wouldn’t ruin me should something happen to you. ”

Eris felt any resistance he had start to crumble. 

“The Mother decided you and I were mates for a reason,” Iris said and gently lifted his chin with her hand. “This thing between us… this is the first thing that has ever been mine and whether you like it or not, I will go down swinging for it. For you.” Iris licked her lips before adding so quietly, “Don’t deny me of you because of him. He doesn’t get to take anything more from us.”  

“I don’t want anything to happen to you.” he whispered and hated that his voice cracked. 

Iris’s expression softened, her thumb caressing his cheek. “If something is meant to happen, then it will. All we can do is accept it and be as ready for it as we can.”

A muscle flexed in his jaw and Eris had to glance down at his clenched hands. “I have waited so fucken long for this,” he said and met her gaze. “For you.” He stood once more, his hands latching on to hers. “I have wished and pleaded and fucken –” Eris stopped himself but knew the desperation on his face must’ve shown exactly how he felt. The sheer yearning he’d had over the years. Since she married him, Iris had been by his side and yet he still craved her more and more deeply each day. He wanted to inject her very essence into his veins. He wanted a life with her. To make her laugh. To give her every single thing she ever desired. But how did he describe this to her? How did he verbalize exactly how much she meant to him? Was telling her he lo – how he felt as she did enough? 

He hadn’t used that word in years – decades. Eris hadn’t even let himself think of the word all these years because of how his father would tarnish it. He had spent his life half in agony with his hope buried so deeply beneath it that he wasn’t sure he could feel that emotion. 

But his mate was a gift. An honor. One he still didn’t believe he deserved but would hold on to for as long as he had time. She was his hope. 

Eris Vanserra had always been a broken dreamer but with Iris? His sky finally had stars. 

And Iris watched him struggle with his mind, holding onto all the things she knew he wanted to say and squeezed his hands tightly. “I may have promised you that I’d leave on the night of the ball so that you don’t have to worry about me but I am not leaving you. I am not going where I cannot return.” 

Eris swallowed hard and forced himself to take a breath. “I have wanted for so long,” he whispered. “I am terrified this will be taken from me. I am terrified of what will happen to you should something happen to me and I want you far away from here in case it does.”

“That means you have to make sure nothing happens to you.” Iris whispered to him and cupped his face. “So that nothing happens to me and then you and I can actually get to live.” 

Whatever was left of that wretched heart of his broke into a thousand pieces and Eris felt his hands start to shake, his chest caving in. Why was she so patient with him? Why was she tied to someone as inadequate as him when she could’ve had someone – anyone better? Cleaner. Less troublesome. 

But her hands were on his face and no hands – none – had ever felt so right. 

It was as if any place Iris touched, she wiped clean and Eris was stained with misery all over. The more she touched him, the more of it she seemed to clear.  

He wanted to live with her. He wanted to look forward to tomorrow. He wanted to give her a life where she had everything she wanted and more. 

Eris wasn’t embarrassed as he stumbled over his words, “You – don’t want a life without me then.”

Roses bloomed on her cheeks as she blushed so beautifully, her hands dropping to her side and nodded. “No, I don’t.” 

And it was like a puzzle piece sliding into place inside his body and mind. 

Eris stared at her as she stood before him, her heart sitting there for the taking – his taking. She let him see all her vulnerabilities and Eris’s shoulders slumped. He felt the same way, didn’t he? He had never felt this way with anyone. He – he was in love, right? This was that feeling – the one everyone whispered about.

He was in love with his wife. A slight terror coursed its way through his chest as he forced himself to swallow hard and run a hand over his mouth again, the words on the tip of his tongue. The longer he looked at her, the harder it was to choke them down. He had always promised her words and yet, he wanted to savor these specific words for a better time. When it didn’t feel like an ominous declaration. Instead, Eris found himself confessing so quietly, it was barely above a whisper, “I think…I think that I lived half a life before you and am far more attached to you than I care to admit. My world was black and white…” He swallowed and took a breath before adding, “Now it’s screaming in colors I couldn’t see with anyone else. I find that your shade of life is my favorite.” 

He felt her joy at his words through their bond, that small, shy smile she reserved for him and him alone graced her lovely face. That joy found its way to his chest and Eris could’ve sworn everything in him settled. His very spirit seemed to wrap around hers, settling deep into his weary bones, where the Prince of Autumn knew, nothing would compare to this feeling again.

Like his whole being had taken a breath of fresh air.    

Iris’s heart was thumping wildly, his confession only confirming what she already knew, knowing the way his words meant something deeper, something he was still terrified to share. But it didn’t matter.

Eris was hers and Iris was his, in every way that it mattered. 

She shifted on her feet, a hand tightening in the folds of her robe as she said, “It’s a really good thing we’re married –” 

“And mates.”

“ –Otherwise this obsession with each other would've been really awkward.” she finished, giving him a pointed look that had them sharing a chuckle. 

He stared at her for a moment too long and Iris had just opened her mouth when he finally said, “How is it you can do that?”

“Do what?” she asked, tilting her head curiously.

“Make me laugh when I – I feel like I can’t breathe.” 

“Because I see you, Eris.” she said simply and shrugged almost helplessly. “And…and I’m giving you my heart to take care of. The least I can do is take care of yours too.” 

Eris felt himself about to crumble. He would shatter into pieces all over this floor and Iris would be left with a pile of rubble for a husband. He wanted to be embarrassed. He felt his cheeks heat as she watched him process her words, a hint of amusement in her gaze. But gods, he didn’t even care. He just wanted her. 

“So it wasn’t just the puppies you were sticking around for, hm?” he finally said.  

Iris’s eyes lit up, her smile playful as she teased, “You called them puppies.”

Eris couldn’t help his own shrug, giving her a half smile. “You’re wearing me down, wife.” 

She chuckled even as she shifted on her feet and glanced at him beneath her lashes. “I haven’t even started wearing you down yet, husband.”

Immediately, the energy in the room shifted, the bond between them going taut the way it always did when they shared a heated glance.

“Is that so?” he asked carefully and Iris nodded. She placed a hand on his chest, slowly pushing him backward until the back of his knees met the bed and Eris sat, their eyes never leaving each other. “How else do you plan to wear me down?”

Iris bit her lip, a hand toying with the sash of her robe. With everything to come and all that had been shared the last few days, she knew without a single doubt, she wanted him. “That depends,” she said and straightened, her expression turning serious. “Are we going to let him ruin this for us?”

Eris’s eyes hardened. “He doesn’t get to win.” he said and his tone left no room for argument. “He doesn’t get to take anything else from me.” 

“Then I want you to forget about everyone and everything else. Stop thinking. Stop worrying.” she said softly. “Let’s just focus on you and me. Do you think we can do that?”

“Iris…”

“Because I don’t want an out, Eris. I only want you.” she said. “ Do you want me?”

“That is a ridiculous question.”

“You’ve been ridiculous all day.” Iris said with a shrug. “I’m trying to stay on theme.” 

And he realized how truly stupid he was being when he almost chuckled at her words. For someone as calculated as he was, trying to be ten steps ahead of the curve, it dawned on Eris this was something he never had control over since the beginning. She wrecked all his plans, even when he was being pig-headed trying to protect her. 

If the end was coming, the least he could do was let himself enjoy it. Enjoy her. 

He licked his lips, his heart nearly bursting out of his chest as he confessed quietly, “I have never wanted anyone the way I want you.”

A flush crept across her cheeks and Eris loved watching the way his words impacted her. He sure as fuck was not good with words but he had promised himself he’d try for her and by the gods, he would say anything to watch the way she bloomed with encouragement. 

And he watched her, like a lovelorn fool, wondering exactly how he had managed to think he knew what happiness meant before her. 

“I’ve…thought a lot about what our first time together would be like.” Iris said, gently pulling to untie her robe. “I thought about what I’d wear and have been experimenting with different gowns to get a feel for what you’d like.” 

“I like everything you wear. You looked beautiful in them all.” he said and Iris preened at his compliment but gave him a coy smile.

“But I know you’d prefer me wearing nothing.” 

Eris couldn’t help but shrug, a smirk forming on his lips. “Nothing would look fantastic on you.” 

And Iris felt her body heat. He had said those words to her before and she had recoiled, not even imagining she’d ever want him to touch her. Now, she wanted to show him exactly how fantastic she looked in nothing. 

She bit her lip, her fingers holding the robe loosely. “We didn’t quite get a normal wedding day, much less a typical wedding night.” she started, her voice low and she watched as Eris’s gaze narrowed in on the way her fingers slid against the white silk. “But it’s better late than never so…I decided to keep it traditional and go with white today.” 

Eris made a sound deep in his throat and Iris felt it vibrate through her body, heat pooling low in her stomach. The gleam in his eyes was predatory and Iris was a very willing prey as she slid the robe just so down her shoulders.

“White for my pretty, pretty bride.” he murmured.

“Oh yes.” she said and bit her lip before continuing in a teasing tone that wasn’t at all a little breathless, “Do you think you can handle it?” 

“No.” he answered much too honestly. “But if this is the way I must go, who am I to fight destiny?”

Iris’s cheeks were crimson, a quiet giggle slipping from her lips. “Ah, spoken like a valiant soldier.” she added and slid the robe a little more, the white straps of her lingerie making an appearance.

Eris straightened where he sat, the scent of their arousal surrounding them. In the distant past, he’d played with lovers. He’d teased and taunted and had them begging for mercy. His wife’s skin wasn’t even on full display and she was toying with him in a way he was enjoying a little too much.  

“Let the robe fall, Iris.” he ordered, his voice a soft caress and Iris couldn’t help but shudder as his command slid over and skated down her spine. 

She was powerless to refuse and the silk slid off her, pooling at her feet. 

The Prince of Autumn couldn’t stop the choked noise that escaped him. He had gone wholly still, his eyes raking over her very beautiful and very exposed body. 

She stood before him in a white set, the lace stretching tightly against her waist, cupping her breasts in a way that threatened to ruin his sanity. She had worn gowns before, offering him some sort of reprieve from losing his mind completely but today…today, her set displayed so much of her lovely skin and the beautiful curves of her body. Her white lace left little to the imagination and Eris…Eris was going to die. 

“You are so fucken beautiful,” was his helpless response, uttered so softly and Iris’s flush deepened. 

She glanced down with a small smile before meeting his gaze again, a finger sliding across the waistband of her lingerie. “You’re a very lucky male.”

Eris couldn’t help the tight laugh that escaped him. “Indeed, I am.” he said, his eyes sliding down her body and then back up, cataloging every inch of her. Just this morning he was telling her exactly how often he pictured feeling her body on his. How often he thought of how he’d make her shudder beneath him. How he’d savor her taste on his tongue.

He was not ashamed to admit his thoughts had gotten aggressively dirtier the longer she stood there. 

“Come here.” he commanded and the words seemed to skate across her skin again, sending a pleasant jolt right down her spine at the way his voice dropped an octave. They shared a heated glance and Iris saw the way his eyes darkened the longer he watched her, her pulse thumping wildly beneath her skin.

Iris walked over to him and slowly, without her eyes leaving his, she carefully straddled him and brought his hands that had slacked beside him on the bed, guiding them to her waist. She let her eyes roam across his face and shoulders, scattered with freckles and it reinforced her mission to kiss every single freckle she found on his skin. 

Eris couldn’t bring himself to say a word and the room was silent as she shuddered slightly, gooseflesh erupting on her skin as so much of her body touched so much of his. Her chest brushed against his and he let himself lean forward just a little, inhaling her scent and marveling at how right she felt pressed against him. 

His hands had slid down to her bare thighs and his gaze dropped to his thumb caressing her lovely skin there. He glanced back up to meet her eyes, dilated in desire that matched his own. 

They drank in the sight of each other, so close, touching so softly. 

“Look at you and your excellent listening skills.” he finally said hoarsely and the corner of Iris’s mouth curled up.

“I’m masquerading as a good wife that listens to her husband.” she replied and let her hands slide to the nape of his neck, her fingers curling into the strands of his hair. “Is it working?”

It was his turn to shudder and Eris felt his cock stir, already hard beneath her touch, especially with the way her body was perfectly lined against his. She was seated in his lap, only scrapes of fabric separating their skin and Eris had to breathe quietly through his nose to control himself. 

“You’ll be the death of me.” he whispered. “I feel like a starving man seated in front of a feast. How do I begin? Where do I even start?”

Iris couldn’t help her smile and she leaned to press a delicate kiss to the corner of his mouth. “How about you kiss me?” she asked softly, her grip tightening in his hair. “Then we can go from there.”

Eris’s mouth curled into a soft smirk, his eyes blazing as his hands slid from her thighs to her waist then up her spine. “Oh, I’m going to kiss you,” he began and Iris shifted, arching into his touch as his voice dropped. “I’m going to kiss you everywhere. I’m going to taste what’s mine. And every inch of you is mine, isn’t that right, mate?”

Iris licked her lips, the very breath between them tense in the most pleasant of ways at his claiming, different from any other time he said it. This time, heart and mind were on the same page. This time, neither of them had any intentions of stopping. 

“Every part of me is yours. Just like every part of you is mine.” 

And no other words needed to be said as they fell into each other with urgency, like a dam flooding, and everything in Iris wanted to be wrapped in Eris. His kiss was a hot branding against her lips and she moaned into his mouth as his hands slid down her body and up, touching all the skin she’d kept hidden from him before, her grip tightening in his hair. A breath stuttered out of her when Eris’s fingers weaved into her hair and gently pulled back, exposing her neck. 

“Do you understand what I mean when I say mine, little gazelle?” he said against her skin and Iris couldn’t help the shudder that went through her body when his other hand kneaded then squeezed her ass. “I have been on my best behavior with you and even if I’ve explained, I don’t think you understand what I’ve been craving to do to you.”

“Do you?” she asked, attempting a cheeky smile that immediately dropped and was replaced by another shaky exhale when his hands squeezed her ass again. “Y-you seem to be all talk.”

Eris forced himself to pull back and meet her gaze, his nostrils flaring at her taunting but he could hear how wildly her heart was beating — could feel the thump of her pulse. She was aroused and excited but he sensed the nerves beneath the lust. 

And Eris couldn’t have that. 

“Don’t underestimate how obscene my mind becomes when it thinks about you.” he warned with a pointed look and Iris felt slickness begin to build between her legs. His thumb brushed against her lower lip as he watched her swallow, the scent of their arousal almost overwhelming. “I may have given you some idea,” he murmured. “But it’s impossible for you to know just how desperately I’ve wanted to touch you and feel your wetness coating my fingers. How desperately I want to taste you on my tongue.”

A small noise slipped from her lips and Iris closed her eyes against his words, arching into him again as his mouth returned to kiss and suck on the column of her neck.

“And how do you think I’ll taste?” she whispered, pressing her chest against his, earning an appreciative rumble from him. She wanted to push him down and feel exactly how he would be beneath her. She wanted to feel every inch of him against every inch of hers, all skin with nothing else between them. She wanted — 

“Exquisite.” he purred and Iris flushed. “Like the first taste of water after being parched for ages. Like honey melting on my tongue.” He grasped her hips, guiding her body to grind against his, earning him another shuddered breath from his wife. “You’ll taste exactly what I know my favorite dessert will taste like.” 

She couldn’t help the sound that slipped from her lips, her fingers tightening in his hair. Iris wanted to tell him that she too, had thought about the taste of him in her mouth. She craved to feel exactly what it would be like to have him inside her and cursed that she had somehow waited this long. “What else have you thought about?” she asked and gingerly rolled her hips against him again.

“This morning wasn’t enough of a description?” he continued, his voice low against her burning skin and Iris’s legs tightened around him. “I know you’ll fit perfectly. I know you coming on my cock will be heaven.” 

“I’ve thought about all the things I’ve never done and how I want you to teach me.” she admitted breathlessly and rolled her hips into his once more, her core aching against his cock. 

“I already told you I’d teach you anything you want, little gazelle.” he whispered against her skin, meeting the roll of her hips with his own. “I’ll make all your dirty fantasies come true.”

“Will you?” she asked with a coy smile and pulled back on his hair gently to nip at his lips. “Or will you keep running that pretty mouth of yours?”

Eris barked a tight laugh and stood swiftly, lifting her in his arms with him and Iris could feel how his hardened length settled against her center deliciously. “You think my mouth is pretty, do you?” he teased and she sucked in a breath as he pressed her firmly against him.

“This is not the time to fish for compliments.”

“Ah, but I am nothing without my inflated ego, wife.” he said, his voice a sensual whisper and he nipped at her ear. “Indulge your husband who immensely enjoys compliments and tell me what I want to hear.”

“Your mouth is not pretty, it’s wicked. You have a wicked mouth.” she said tightly and he quirked a brow. “It’s not doing what I really want it to.”

“And what do you want my wicked mouth to do, wife?” he asked.

“Kiss me.” she demanded. “Taste me.”

The Prince of Autumn’s grin was roguish. “I’d be delighted.” 

Eris crashed his lips against hers and the feeling of urgency between them returned in full force. The need to claim had their hands roaming and Eris finally turned and laid Iris down, immediately covering her body with his and grinding.

He couldn’t touch her quickly enough. She couldn’t kiss him hard enough. 

His lips released hers and made their way to her neck once more, leaving quick kisses as he pressed himself into her more firmly, his cock so hard it was almost painful — he knew he’d be leaking as soon as he slipped out of his pants. 

She moaned and Eris had to force himself to move away from her lovely neck to meet her gaze as he rocked into her once more. Her eyes were clouded with desire and the sight of her mouth falling open as he rocked into her again had him almost combust.

“Just a little preview.” he said tightly and kissed her again roughly, his tongue clashing with hers for another taste before pulling himself off her completely to drink in the sight of her disheveled on their bed. Her hair was fanned around her head in a way that made him long to have it wrapped in his fist, the strap of her lingerie falling off one shoulder, and her legs spread to accommodate him —  she was a sight to behold and if Eris could spend the evening just memorizing her in this view, he would. But her pretty mouth was begging for more kisses and he needed to hear more of those lovely noises she kept making. 

He dropped to his knees immediately, pulling her to the edge of the bed and her head shot up. 

“Eris —” Iris started but his lips had found their way to her thighs and the feeling of his mouth on skin he hadn’t kissed before silenced her for a moment.

“I need to taste you, wife.” he whispered against her skin, as his lips kissed the inside of her knee and kept moving up, spreading her legs further until he reached the wetness coating the lacy scrap she wore. He brushed his nose against the fabric, inhaling, and Eris nearly came at the scent alone. “If I don’t, I might, quite literally, die.”

She choked back a laugh, her legs shifting as he moved between them. “So dramatic even between my legs.” she said and though he was right where she wanted him, Iris needed just another moment — just one, and reached for him. “Eris, come here please.”

Instantly, Eris moved up to meet her hands as she cupped his face and kissed him hungrily once more. He groaned into her and his fingers slid against her legs, squeezing her thighs until she pulled back. 

“Yes, wife?” 

“I want you to touch me everywhere.”

“Absolutely.”

“And I want you to taste me wherever you want.” 

“That was indeed my plan.”

“But I do need you to remember,” she said and her voice lowered as color bloomed on her cheeks once more. “That I have never done this with anyone before and I need you to be a little gentle with me.” 

Eris froze as she held his face in her hands. “Gentle.” he repeated and Iris nodded slowly.

“I may have done some…self-discovery before you,” she said with a flush. “But this is different.”

The roaring fire he had felt in his veins calmed momentarily as he looked at her. So that was what she seemed nervous about. 

He didn’t know gentle — he was not used to that approach.

Eris scanned his wife’s face beneath him. He took in the sight of her gazing up at him and saw the desire mixed in with the trust in her eyes. She wanted him but more importantly, she trusted him to take care of her. Eris Vanserra didn’t do gentle but he sure as fuck would try. 

He would be damned if he didn’t make this the most pleasurable first time a person could dream of.

Eris released a hand from her thigh and brought it to her hand on his left cheek, pulling it down to kiss her palm.

“You’re telling me this lovely hand here knows how to play with what’s mine already? It’s played with what I already know will be the prettiest cunt I’ll ever lay eyes on?” he said, his voice full of sinful promise as he smirked at her, and Iris’s body felt aflame. 

“M-Maybe.” she stuttered as he kissed each fingertip of her hand.

“Do you want to play a little for me? Do some…self-discovery to help you relax?” he asked, kissing her palm once more.

“I’d rather you played with me instead.” she breathed and his eyes darkened.

“I am physically restraining myself from devouring you,” he said. “And you say things like this.”

Iris fought a smile. “Why?” she said quietly. “You won’t hurt me.”

Eris squeezed his eyes shut, the wind momentarily knocked out of him again at the amount of trust she now placed in him. It still hit him with the force of a boulder and he opened his eyes to find her watching him with that same small smile. “You are going to kill me.” he mumbled and let a hand gently run through her loose hair. “You deserve something soft. Something sweet. Not the kind of rabid animal you make me.”

Iris laughed softly and pulled him closer, their lips only a breath away. “Then show me soft. Show me something sweet.” she said. “I know you have it in you.”

Eris faltered, a hand stilling in her hair. She really was going to be the death of him if she kept speaking to him like this. “You truly believe that?” his question barely above a whisper. 

Iris softened. “Yes.” she whispered and leaned in to brush her lips against his, causing him to shudder. “Especially because I think...I think you need that softness as much as I do.” 

Eris swallowed. “Even if my softness is wrapped in barbed wire?”

Iris bit her lip and rocked her hips against his, both of them groaning at the contact. “It’s a good thing that I love carrying a sharp knife then, isn’t it?” she whispered with a chuckle and Eris felt himself unravel. “So you can show me a little soft or a little rabid, husband, but whatever it is, it’s time you properly made me your wife.” 

Any resemblance of self-restraint that Eris had possessed until this moment, snapped and he was an inferno unleashed. He kissed her like the starved man he knew he was and Iris matched his eagerness with her own, her body pressing into his until once more, he pulled away and Iris let out a whine of disapproval.

Eris’s hands moved to the straps of her bra and he gave her a smirk. “This is lovely but I need it gone. Sit up.” he demanded and he leaned in to kiss her again as she followed his request, his hands skimming the back of her bra, undoing it quicker than she could blink. 

He tossed it to the side and Iris flushed at the way he watched her, forcing her to lay back down slowly, his eyes scanning her exposed skin. 

“Oh. I’ve dreamed about these.” he said reverently and allowed himself a moment to admire the sight of her exposed breasts and the gooseflesh scattered across her skin. 

Iris’s hands twitched by her sides as he watched her and Eris narrowed his eyes at the movement. “If you even think about covering any part of yourself, I will tie your hands up very quickly,” he said. “I want to look at what is mine.” 

“I think we should ease into bondage.” she said, her flush deepening, and the corner of his mouth curled up.

But he forced himself to relax. He had waited like a saint for this moment. To appreciate her and become well acquainted with every inch of her body. Eris couldn’t rush it or it would end quicker than he wanted it to. 

“We wouldn’t even need rope or silk.” he said, slowly settling himself between her legs once more. He kept his eyes on her face as he finally allowed himself to touch her, letting a finger circle around one breast while his free hand engulfed the other with a squeeze. “I’ll let my fire wrap around you. It’ll keep you warm and hold you in place as I feasted on you.” He leaned closer and pressed a kiss between the valley of her breasts. “What do you think of that idea?”

“Eris, if you don’t do something in the next second I’m going to — oh.”

His mouth had descended on a breast while his hand squeezed the other and Iris couldn’t help the arch of her body and the broken whine that slipped from her lips. 

The way his mouth felt on her skin was sinful. The movement of his tongue obscene as he teased her nipple and bit gently, his hand kneading and twisting the other in the same motion as his tongue, and Iris’s hand latched onto his forearm as another soft moan slipped from her lips.

“I like that.” she breathed and Eris lifted his head, his mouth making an indecent pop of noise.

“Good. I want to know all the things you like.” he said against her skin and switched, his mouth resuming its tasting and only stopped when Iris’s panting increased and was mixed with another little whine that delighted Eris to no end. 

Without taking his eyes off her, Eris kissed his way down to where he desperately wanted to be and kissed right over the slickness coating her panties. Iris couldn’t help but shiver at his predatory gaze, his hands skimming over her lacy cover and he raised a brow, hooking his fingers into the waistline. 

She wanted his tongue on her too much to form words and with a breath, nodded once.

He wasted no time. Eris kissed her inner thighs once more then shifted, finally and agonizingly slowly, he slid the lacy scrap down her legs and tossed it. 

Instinctively, Iris’s legs attempted to close but with a tsk of disapproval, Eris forced them open, his hands holding them apart with gentle firmness. 

A heartbeat of silence and Eris had to count to ten in his head to avoid coming.

“As pretty as I thought.” he mused and it was by sheer will alone that Eris hadn’t ruined his pants yet.

“Eris — I —” she began with a flush, quickly shooting up on her elbows and her husband finally ripped his gaze from the sight of her spread beneath him to look at her.

“Who is this wetness all for, little gazelle?” he asked, his voice as soft as silk, his thumbs caressing the skin of her inner thighs, his breath hot against her core, and Iris’s toes curled. “Is it all for me? You want me to know how ready you are for me, wife?”

“Y-yes.” she whispered and though a part of her felt embarrassed at how blatantly aroused she was and how Eris was staring at her bare before him, it didn’t stop her from feeding into the way she felt and how he was making her feel. Iris didn’t want to think. She wanted to feel and let herself be worshiped. She couldn’t stop the roll of her hips if she wanted to. “It’s all for you.”

Eris’s grin was a wicked promise. “I’m going to devour you.”

The first lick of his tongue set her on fire.

Iris’s head fell back with a breathy groan as Eris feasted on her. He gave an appreciative noise as his tongue delved into her, traveling in and out then sliding to her clit and back. Iris couldn’t help the way she rolled her hips into his mouth — couldn’t stop the whimper and the breathless moan that followed his actions. His mouth closed around her clit and Eris had to pin her waist down with an arm to stop her hips from lifting as he lapped at her arousal. He sucked and licked on her bundle of nerves with deadly focus, switching between fast harsh flicks to long, flat strokes before releasing it noisily. 

“Fucken divine.” he rasped and brought a thumb back down on her clit, rubbing as his tongue slid in for another taste. “You taste exactly as I imagined. Everything I wanted.”

“D-don’t stop yet.” she whispered, circling her hips with his hand movement. “I like that.”

Eris chuckled, his hot breath making her shudder, and without another word, his tongue dived deep into her once more. He groaned into her, the taste of her sweetness undoing him bit by bit as Iris’s hands fisted into the sheets and she rolled her hips to meet his licks. 

He was indeed a man starved and the only thing that would satisfy him was for his wife to come on his tongue. 

Eris lifted his head as his thumb worked her clit to watch his wife’s chest rise and fall at his movements and he wished he had more hands to keep touching every fucken inch of her. “Ready for a little something else?”

“Yes.” she nearly begged and Eris grinned. His eyes didn’t leave her beautiful face that was etched in ecstasy as he slowly slid a finger inside her. 

Iris’s head immediately lifted and Eris swore as she tightened around his finger, her pussy pulsing. He planted a kiss on her inner thigh, watching her as he pumped his finger and let his thumb continue its movement.

“Keep rolling your hips for me, wife.” he said against her skin. “I’m going to add more. And you’re going to love it.”

Iris bit her lip, her skin flushed as she watched the movement of his finger and rolled her hips to match his pumping. Just as she started to relax into the movement, he added a second finger and Iris couldn’t help the shameless noise that slipped from her lips as her head fell back on the mattress.

Never in all her self-discovery had it felt even remotely close to this. 

“You like that, don’t you, little gazelle?” he said lowly and placed a kiss a breath away from her clit, his breath hot on her skin. “Because I like seeing you like this, spread for me. I’ve dreamed about this.”

“Y-you have such perverted dreams.” she stuttered and then moaned softly as his fingers picked up the pace. 

“I do.” he confirmed and curled his two fingers at an angle that had her back arching. “I am a very big pervert when it comes to you.”

“Oh gods.” she groaned and the pace of Eris’s pumping increased, his eyes watching her like a hawk, for he would memorize every inch of her, every movement, every reaction. He would know exactly how her body would react before she came and Eris would be there to lick up every inch.

“You’re so pretty when you’re coming undone.” he continued and couldn’t stop his mouth from replacing his thumb, sucking at her clit once more before releasing it with a groan. “You’re soaking my fingers and I can’t wait until you’re dripping all over my cock.” 

Iris’s mouth fell open as a breathless noise slipped out. The things he kept saying would be what sent her over the edge. She knew her orgasm was building with the way he kept curling his fingers and working his wicked mouth. She wanted to know what that mouth would feel like everywhere. She wanted his tongue inside her again. 

“Please.” she begged. “Your mouth.” 

Eris’s face erupted in feral delight and he let his fingers work in a frantic rhythm for another moment just to listen to the quickening of her breath and to watch as Iris rolled her hips with the movement of his hand, trying to match his pace. He knew she was getting close, her walls clamping on his fingers as she neared her release. 

But he would be damned if the first orgasm he gave her was anywhere but on his tongue.

He pulled his hand away suddenly and before Iris could protest, Eris had buried his face into her pussy and his tongue moved in ways that had her brain short-circuiting. Her breathing became heavier and Iris let her hands find their way back to his hair, firmly pressing his face into her, chasing the sweet release she knew was coming.

His fingers still coated with her slickness were now pressing and rubbing into her clit as his mouth worked on her and soon, Iris’s grip tightened as she finally reached the moment of bliss.

With a small gasp followed by a soft, “Oh.” Iris’s orgasm crashed over her. Her fingers tightened on Eris’s head and she kept rolling her hips as he carried her through her release. 

Grasping her hips firmly, he lifted her slightly, burying himself further into her, drinking in her release and his tongue didn’t stop moving as he lapped every drop of her sweetness, nearly coming himself. With one final lick, Eris slowly settled her back into the bed and watched her chest rise and fall, basking in the bliss of her climax. 

He knew without a doubt that she would be his favorite feast. He would have her come all over his face for eternity. 

His thumb continued to caress her clit as Iris shuddered through the last waves of her orgasm and Eris couldn’t help the satisfaction coursing through him as he watched her. His hand spread to cover her cunt and he rubbed into her wetness, watching as she squirmed beneath the possessive touch until she met his gaze. 

Eris kept his eyes locked on hers as he slowly licked each finger clean and then licked his lips. He glanced down at her cunt still glistening with her slickness then back at her again. 

“This. Every day. Do you understand?” he said and delighted in watching the flush spread across her skin even as she nodded.

“First thing in the morning.” she demanded and Eris couldn’t help his smirk, bringing his hand down once more to play with her wetness.

“Breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Then right before bed again. Don’t bother with your lace scraps anymore.” he said and tested what he’d been craving to do since he had gotten her naked; he slapped her cunt suddenly and Iris’s sharp inhale filled the room. He grinned. “Do you like that, little gazelle?”

Iris rolled her hips into his touch as the light sting of the smack faded. “Do it again.” she breathed and Eris was delighted as he slapped her cunt once more with a firm hand and Iris’s skin seemed to tighten at the sensation. “I — I like that.” 

“Good. I’ll be doing it every chance I get.”  he promised then finally pulled away to stand, even as her nipples tightened at his words. “I’ve always thought you needed some spanking.”

Iris tried not to groan at the image of him spanking her and forced herself to take a deep breath before sitting up gingerly to watch as Eris finally peeled off his trousers and though she could hear how fast his heart was beating, his movements were unhurried. 

He had just sent her over a blissful edge and his movements were unhurried. She watched his face almost hungrily then her eyes dropped down to his hands and — 

“Oh.” 

The world slipped out of her before she could stop it at the sight of him in his naked glory, his cock erect and glistening with pre-cum. He was sculpted beautifully, with muscles in places she hadn’t expected – a lean, athletic build. Iris bit her lip. She was used to staring at him dressed in well-fitted attire and shirtless but she realized very quickly that looking at him naked was a much better view. 

And he looked like he needed to be licked everywhere. 

“If you keep staring at me like that, I’m not going to get to come inside you the way I want to.” he said and his grin was of pure male satisfaction as he fisted his cock. 

“Well, that’s not fair.” she said, watching his hand movement then met his gaze with a raised brow. “You stared your fill. What if I want to look…and lick too?”

Iris bit back her own grin as she watched Eris close his eyes and take a deep breath, his hardened cock twitching as he squeezed it. “Can I touch you?” she asked quietly and her husband let out a pained growl.

“You never have to ask.” he said, meeting her gaze again, the fire in it spreading gooseflesh across her skin. “I’d crumble if you didn’t.”

He was standing before her, his jaw clenched, trying indeed, not to crumble and Iris bit back a smile. She moved closer to him and bit her lip as she carefully replaced his hand, wrapping her own around his erected cock and Eris swore, twitching beneath her touch. She had no idea what she was doing but she’d read enough books, and heard enough whispered scandals that she had a general idea. She could be an apt student. She would be the best student.

“Will you show me how you like it?” she whispered as she glanced at him from beneath her lashes and squeezed his shaft then stroked it firmly. “I want to make you feel good.”

His nostrils flared and his eyes darkened at the sight of her before him. “I will show you everything,” he said tightly and Iris preened in delight as he rocked into her hand. “Everything we’ve ever done in my perverted dreams of you, I will show you.”

She couldn’t help her arousal spiking at the feeling of him in her hand, at his dirty promises. Her breasts felt heavy and she could sense wetness gathering between her legs once more as she squeezed him harder. “Do you want my mouth on you?” she asked and feeling brave from his low groan, she leaned in to kiss the tip of his cock. “Or do you want me to keep going with my hand?”

Eris swore again then grabbed her jaw in his hand firmly, pulling her up to kiss her fiercely. Iris returned his kiss with fervor, her hand still gripping his cock, pumping him slowly and she let her thumb brush his pre-cum over the tip.

“I’m going to come by your hand and then come in that pretty, pretty mouth of yours soon enough.” he said hungrily against her lips. “I’m going to cover you in come, little gazelle, but first, I need to be buried inside you. I want that cunt of yours clamped around my cock milking me for all I’m worth, yes?”

“Yes.” she breathed and gave his cock another firm squeeze. “I want you to give me everything. Come undone inside me.”

He growled as he kissed her fiercely again, thrusting into her hand once more. “How do you want me?” he asked. 

Iris licked her lips, his question unleashing image after image of all the ways she could have him. All the ways she wanted him to have her. “We have three weeks to make the most of everything until we know what comes after.” she began and Eris swore as she stroked his cock more firmly. “And in these three weeks, I will want you in every way you can think of.” she continued and his low groan had more wetness gathering between Iris’s legs until she finally released him, slowly backing onto the bed. “But for tonight… I want you as you promised me. All over me, as my husband. As my mate. As what’s mine.” Without breaking eye contact, she leaned back on her elbows and slowly spread her knees for him. “So come here and make me yours.”

Eris didn’t need to be told twice. He had his body covering hers in an instant, kissing every inch of exposed skin on his way until he reached her mouth and again, kissed her hungrily, claiming so thoroughly as always. Iris arched into his touch and moaned softly against his mouth, a small needy sound that had her husband smiling against her lips. 

He broke their kiss as he carefully laid her back and settled himself between her legs. 

“I like hearing these kinds of noises from you.” he said and brushed a strand of hair from her face.

“I like that you get these noises out of me.” she replied and Eris nipped at her lips again with a small smile, a hand sliding to her core once again and he began stroking his fingers into her arousal. Another breathy moan slipped from her lips and Iris let her own hand slide between them to his cock, gripping it tightly.

The two locked eyes and matched the pace of each other’s strokes, the scent of their desire had taken over the room. It was a moment suspended in time. 

“Have I told you lately,” he began quietly, bucking into her hand as Iris rolled her hips against his fingers. “That you’ve become very tolerable, wife?”

Iris choked out a laugh and squeezed him tightly in her hand, earning her a deep groan. “And have I told you lately,” she began softly. “That you’ve become very tolerable too, husband?”

He chuckled and finally moved his hand from her arousal, wrapping a hand over the one fisting him, and didn’t remove his eyes from hers as he slowly stroked the tip of his cock up and down her slit, teasing her clit as they went.

Eris raised a brow, asking his question without saying a word, his gaze filled with emotions Iris couldn’t help but flush deeply at. 

But she nodded all the same, shifting her free hand to lay her palm open for him. His eyes flickered to her hand then back to her eyes and for someone who had considered sex a transaction, a mindless release — a clash of bodies and nothing more, the small act of her open palm was enough to unravel him completely. 

Eris slid his hand into hers and Iris intertwined their fingers. 

And without waiting another moment, Eris removed his hand to let Iris stroke him once more before guiding him to her entrance. 

A mutual groan of pleasure echoed through the room as Eris carefully eased into her and the world stilled once more around them. Their every breath and their every thought seemed to sync up to this moment. 

Inch by inch, Eris moved slowly, watching her every expression and pausing whenever she tensed, leaning in to kiss the corner of her mouth and her jaw, especially as her breaths began to turn shallow. 

Iris only gripped his hand tightly as he eased out to the tip then gave one final thrust, sliding into her to the hilt and Iris gasped, her body tensing beneath his. “Oh.”

Eris sucked in a breath, holding himself as still as possible as overwhelming pleasure washed over him. This was it — this moment where everything else no longer mattered except taking care of her, where they were finally one. 

He leaned in to kiss his wife and pressed his body further into hers, letting her adjust to him. “Are you alright?”

It took Iris a moment before she could answer, letting out a breath at the sensation of being filled by him. It overpowered every other thought as Eris stretched her, his cock twitching inside her. She hadn’t felt any pain, only slight discomfort, pressure that was slowly easing, and as it eased, she felt the pleasure start to build. 

“Yes.” she finally whispered against his lips, carefully rolling her hips. “I — I feel good.”

Gingerly, he rocked into her, and the sensation of his cock deep inside her and how tightly her walls clamped around him threatened to kill him. He couldn’t help but thrust a little harder and Iris’s whimper of pleasure spurred his movements.

“And you feel so fucken good, wife.” he murmured and slowly pulled out again to the tip before thrusting hard once more and Iris’s eyes rolled back with a stuttered breath. “I told you — you would be a perfect fit.” 

Iris couldn’t do much more but whimper softly as Eris did it again, rolling his hips with each careful thrust, and soon, she had started to roll her hips up more confidently to match his movement. 

“That’s right.” he praised, and the pace of his thrusts slowly began to quicken. “You know exactly what you want, baby. Keep moving those beautiful hips for me.” “Oh, fuck.” She breathed and leaned up to kiss him deeply, her tongue teasing his before pulling back. “I want you. Make me feel good.”

Eris chased her lips once more, growling as he kissed her. “I need to keep moving, Iris.” he said tightly and slipped his hand from hers to spread her thighs further for him as her body started to relax, adjusting to his size. He rolled his hips into her, the movement slow and deep as he added. “I need to go harder. Tell me if it’s too much.” 

Iris didn’t take her eyes off his face, watching and feeling how he took his time with her. She squeezed her walls around his cock and grinned when his head fell forward with a groan. 

Iris kissed his shoulder gently then his cheek. “Go a little harder, mate. I can handle it.” she whispered and Eris’s eyes snapped to hers, his heart leaping at the words before he kissed her fiercely, diving into bliss.

No more words were said as Eris’s pace quickened, his thrusts in line with the sounds of Iris’s breathy moans. His eyes stayed glued to her beautiful face as it lit up in ecstasy and he would allow his pace to quicken, his thrusts to indeed go harder until her brows furrowed and he’d ease up, rolling his hips at a more leisurely pace until the sigh of pleasure would slip from her lips again before quickening once more.

An avalanche was building inside him as Eris Vanserra made love to his wife, claiming her as his. Iris fell into the bliss of the motions, her body taking the pleasure he gave her, trying to match his pace and giving him pleasure of her own. She felt her orgasm building and she couldn’t help tightening around his cock again, loving the way he filled her up, his grunts of satisfaction only making it more erotic for her. The way his hands possessively held her, tracing her body before sinking into her thighs again had her on fire; his touch igniting her body, an incandescent glow to their joining. They were a perfect fit, their bodies made for each other. 

“Eris —” she whined, her grip tightening on his arm as his hips quickened. “I need —”

“I know what you need, wife.” he murmured, his fingers digging into her inner thighs as he was rutting into her, his thrusts quickening then slowing down before quickening again, his hips rolling with the movement. His eyes were on her beautiful breasts bouncing before him and he couldn’t help leaning in to take one in his mouth for a soft bite as he thrust hard, grinning at the way Iris cried out. “I know exactly what you need. I’ve got you, little gazelle.” 

His mouth switched to the other breast for a quick taste before he adjusted himself to rest over her, lifting her thighs to give himself a better angle, and Iris’s breathless whimper only encouraged the movement. 

“Almost — I’m almost —” she begged, melting into his movements. “Oh, fuck.”

“Touch yourself, wife.” he demanded knowing he would not last much longer. He needed her to come. He needed them to come close together. “Play with that pretty cunt while I fuck you and come for me.”

Iris immediately obeyed, her fingers sliding to her swollen clit, her hand moving in pace with his quick thrusts, to the roll of his hips snapping against hers. 

“Good girl. You’re doing so well for me.” he praised again and Iris flushed deeply at the words, her breaths quickening. “You’re going to come for me and then I’m going to spill myself inside you because you’re mine.” His voice was guttural and his mouth descended on her exposed neck, biting. Iris bit her lip through the pleasure mixed with a hint of pain at his harshened thrusts, his pace turning frantic. “Mine.”

“And you’re mine.” she breathed and with the next thrust timed to the exact movement of her hand rubbing her clit, Iris’s body arched as she fell over the edge.

At the sound of her breathless moan of pleasure, Eris finally came with a deep groan, burying his head into the crook of her neck. He came so hard and with such force, that his vision momentarily blurred. He’d been holding on for this moment for so long that Eris couldn’t stop the rolling of his hips as he panted heavily, his come still spilling out of him as his thrusts began to slow, emptying himself inside her. Iris lay beneath him, breathing heavily, her fingers tangling in his hair and she couldn’t stop the rolling of her hips either, her silken walls still clenching around him.

It took him a moment to finally come to a stop and Eris pulled out of her slowly, the wet sound obscene as it filled the room. He nearly came again at the sight of her sex covered in him, at the way she pulsed beneath his gaze. His heart raced as he took in her flushed face, the marking of his hands on her body — his bite mark on her throat. 

This would be a sight he could never see himself getting tired of. 

They sat in silence for a few moments, letting their breathing fall into its natural rhythm and just watching each other. For all their worries and feelings, and for all their words said, everything about this moment was exactly how it was supposed to be.

Eris and Iris, as one; the mating bond seemed to pulse between them, the gold thread taut.

He watched his wife for a moment, a finger brushing her cheek as she closed her eyes against his touch and Eris had to use every ounce of will he had to force himself move. 

He had to take care of her. She trusted him and he would always take care of her. 

He returned with a damp washcloth kept warm from his magic and as gently as Eris Vanserra could be, began cleaning her up. Iris shifted at his touch and the slight wince on her face had his expression fall. “Did I hurt you?” he asked quietly.

Iris could already feel the sense of panic bubbling inside him, so she shook her head with a small smile and requested, “Come here.”

Without hesitation, Eris gingerly lay his body over hers, the washcloth slipping from his hand and she cupped his face, kissing him softly. Eris buried his hands in her hair, groaning against her lips and that sense of delight flared in him again as she wrapped her legs around him.

He didn’t think about his release still mostly all over her even as he unintentionally bucked his hips into hers; his cock already half erect just by pressing against her.

“You did not hurt me.” she said calmly. “I liked it.” 

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“Good.” he said and nearly purred when she ran her fingers through his hair. “My husbandly duties have been performed well.”

Iris snorted and rolled her eyes. “Cauldron forbid you to go a few minutes without complimenting yourself.” 

“You have to give credit where it’s due, wife.” he asked with a smirk. “I will gladly show you again if necessary.”

Iris let out a soft laugh that had Eris’s heart skip a beat and he couldn’t help leaning in and placing a hot kiss on her mouth. 

“You have always been so eager.” she teased against his lips and Eris made a noise of agreement as he pulled back to watch her, his fingers sliding into the loose strands of her hair. 

It fell silent between them once more, both basking in the closeness and soft touching, happy to just be.

To be at peace. To be present at this moment. Where that invisible string wrapped itself around them. 

“You know…” Iris began after a moment, and color bloomed on her cheeks as she trailed a hand down his arm and then met his gaze. “This means we’ve finally consummated our marriage.”

“About time, I daresay.”

“I am now truly your wife.” 

Eris’s brow quirked. “You were truly my wife the moment we said those vows in front of everyone at our wedding.” He said dryly. “There was never a single moment where I thought otherwise.”

Iris hummed, her lips twitching at his expression. “Well, can’t say the same now, can I?” she teased then laughed as his expression flattened. 

“If you don’t take that back right this instance —”

“What are you going to do?” she challenged and Eris’s mouth slowly curled into a smirk. 

“I’m going to fuck you and that pretty mouth of yours until you’re so incoherent, the only words you can say are husband,” He said and leaned in to kiss one corner of her mouth. “Mate.” He continued, kissing the other corner of her lips. “And my name.” he finally whispered against her lips.

Iris’s pulse quickened and she squeezed her legs around him, his promise igniting her arousal once more. “Oh, then I’m most certainly not taking it back.” she said. “How else will I find out if the rumors are true?”

Eris lifted a brow and brushed a strand of hair from her face. “And what rumors might that be?”

Iris’s lips twitched as she answered, “That Autumn Court males have fire in their blood—,” she said then added in a low voice. “And they fuck like it too.”

Her husband blinked then a wicked grin slowly spread across his face. “Oh?”

“And now that we’ve consummated our marriage once…” she continued, carefully rolling her hips against his and smiling when he sucked in a breath. She whispered, “I think you should show me.”

[withclawsandsympathy]

ROSEWOOD

Art: @witchy-worm

Writing: @withclawsandsympathy (AO3: callsigntango)

Rating: Teen

Warnings: Graphic Depictions of Violence

Other Tags: Angst, Animal Death, Case Fic, Claustrophobia, Mentions of Torture, Mild Body Horror, We Talk About Purgatory

Word Count: 5.5k

Summary: Months after Mrs. Butters leaves the bunker, intent on finding a home of her own, a peaceful section of pines set deep into the American heartland becomes anything but. Haunted by Purgatory at every turn, and forced to confront the consequences of decades of torture and abandonment at the hands of his predecessors, Dean and Cas set off to solve a string of disappearances in the forest where they stumble across a familiar face -- and an all-too-familiar feeling.

Excerpt:

Dean believes a lot of things. He believes the manner of his death was decided by his father the very night that yellow-eyed demon ripped his mom away from him. He believes he’ll die, broken and bloody and alone on a hunt, and anything Cas does only delays the inevitable. He believes he doesn’t deserve to be saved. Dean knows Cas will do it anyway. He realizes a moment too late that he and Cas have been staring at each other silently for several beats. Dean clears his throat, pushing off from the tree he was leaning against. His jacket, half-stuck to the bark and sap of the pine, makes a ripping sound as it peels away from the trunk. The tree emits an eerie groan with the sudden absence of Dean’s weight against it. Scowling, Dean scrubs a palm against the canvas sleeve to wipe away the sap. His hand comes back dark red. The smell hasn’t quite hit his nose before Cas speaks the word forming in Dean’s thoughts. “Blood.” The tree groans again, the sound cutting through the silence as several more pines join the rising chorus around them. The hairs on the back of Dean’s neck rise in return. The sound Dean had once mistook as trees creaking and swaying in the wind now formed the painful wails of something wounded. Then the trees began to scream.

Coming this October to @deancashorrorfest!!

[mizusnose]

The Devil You Know

“The salt on your lips, the hands that god gave you”

Reader who has been with Mizu through it all—now she helps when she’s struggling in the dead of night. Warnings for panic attack, anxiety, and general distress.

——-

It starts in the evening. It’s Mizu, in the dead of night, the darkness slathered against her edges: the sharp of it jagged and twisted against the corners of the bed. You’re in an inn tonight. A warm fire crackling downstairs, it’s heat a distant thing—one only quieted with Mizu next to you.

Yet, she shakes against you, a thrashing quiet kind of thing. An animal injured: the wet of its blood on your hands, your forearms, the dig of your elbows. She sobs and you search her eyes. Someone so strong and sure of herself becoming a mess next to you, unraveled and thin, like a child returned from war—one you don’t know if she’s truly yet won.

“t’s okay, it’s okay. I’m here, it’s okay.”

You soothe her at best as you can, but the planes of her back shudder, her shoulders work, and you can see her jaw move: a silent scream, a prayer perhaps. To whom, you wouldn’t know.

Maybe it’s the travel that made her this way, but you’d be kidding yourself if you believed that so easily. Mizu was traveling with wet feet, raggedy clothes and only a kasa to her name for kilometers before you both met. Now, years later, you’d scold Mizu for going outside without a proper outfit on.

It’s not the travel.

“Mizu..”

She gasps and moves away from your touch, the edge of the bed dips off into a void. You watch as she falls into it, the slip of her hair hiding the pale of her face, her moon-blue eyes in the night.

You knew. Knew that she’d heard it when you both walked into the room. A snide remark, a nastier reply, the silence on Mizu’s end.

You had let her handle it, but before she could leave to confront them she returned instead and didn’t say a word for the rest of the evening until bedtime. And now—

You’re on the ground next to her. You don’t hold her, know from her attacks before this that she’d only hate it more. So you set yourself down against her, a soft push against the ground and her leg.

She’s naked, partly. A loose cover against her chest, her breasts wrapped, but the bend of her neck is an open maw against her dark spill of hair. She’s crying, and you can’t see it, but you can feel it against her knuckles and yours when you reach out to let her know: i’m here, i’m here, i’m sorry, i’m here.

Mizu never tells you what she’s thinking about whenever this happens. But somehow, you can feel it, the way she’s not looking at you, not speaking, pulling away when you hum a lullaby you remember as a child, one you’d sing to Mizu whenever her nightmares would wake her in the middle of the night screaming and thrashing.

“It doesn’t matter. I love you. It doesn’t matter.”

A flash of anger, a beat of fear, and you wonder as you sit against the rosewood floor tucked against Mizu who is terrified and angry and scared, this is the devil they are so afraid of, this is who they hate.

She shakes her head no, a jerky sudden thing. Her hair hides her face and the red of her nose. You want to kiss it away, smooth her hair back and press your forehead to hers: an apology, a prayer, a beg.

You know the taste of her tongue and the salt on her lips, the hands that gods have given her, and the blood that has spilled over, and still—

“Mizu, I love you.”

You never understood why they all hated her when she is only this: a hollowed out thing, an injury dug into her flesh, a puckered cut that won’t heal.

The shape of her has fallen like night, a dark spill of hair and the quiet quick huffs of her breath. She’s only a child now, one that can love as large as she can manage—it isn’t her fault that they don’t know, don’t understand. A devil, that’s what they call her and yet—

You gather her in your arms when she’s calmed. Hold her like water, scared she’ll slip away. The panic you only feel when she’s like this: volatile and weary, soft and damp.

She has scrapes on her knees from the fall, and the blood that spills over glints in the moonlight. You brush back her hair and you kiss her hairline, the faint widow’s peak, the freckle in between her brows, just above her nose.

And you wonder how anyone could call her these awful things when she’s only this: only yours.

———

try not to write more than 800 words challenge failed

[kmblckbk]

Bloodweave X reader

Astarion x f!Reader x Gale

Word count: 3k

18+

Warning: contains smut and minor mention of SA

Summary: After a big battle you return to camp with you companions, and you can’t wait to rest. But 2 of your companions have other ideas.

*english is not my first language so i'm sorry if there are any spelling mistakes.*

------------------------------------------------------------------------

you can’t wait to go to sleep. The last fight was hard and on top of that a certain wizard and vampire kept asking for your attention. You knew Gale wouldn’t like sharing, he was a focus on one person kind of guy.  and Astarion, well, he opened up to you about what he went through with Cazadore a little and you’d understand he’s not ready for a physical relationship just yet. He’s been more open about the idea ever since he’s killed Cazadore, but you  knew trauma took a long time to heal. But you would do anything to help him, in whatever way you could.

The 2 man have been battling over your attention. You liked it, but some times it became exhausting. Especially because you liked them both. It hurt you to think about one day having to choose between them. You’ve been nice to both, you’ve been implying that you’d see a future with both of them, of course they don’t know about your feelings for the other. But you just couldn’t choose, not yet at least.

you walk into your tent, exhausted from the day, and are met with the 2 men that’s been on your mind. None other than Gale and Astarion are waiting for you.  “Hello darling” Astarion says. “oh uh hi” you say awkwardly, did they find out? “Gale and I had an very interesting conversation” he says walking up to you, so close you can smell him, he smells like rosemary and brandy, you didn’t know you would like that combination as much as you do. “yeah, and you were the main topic” Gale says coming up to you too, standing close to Astarion. Gale smells of old books, like he’d spent days in the library and something sweet to like rosewood. “oh” you say, dreading where this was going, you were not ready to choose yet. “you see Gale here told me you were seeing him, but I thought we had something special darling?” Astarion says, his tone is not sweet, it’s dark and something else. “and here I was thinking I was the only one who had your heart” Gale tells you, he sounds more disappointing, yet not to the extend you thought he would.

“i-I” you try to explain, but what was there to explain. You are caught red handed and now it was time to tell them the truth. “I’m sorry, I just. I like you, both of you. please don’t make me choose, I’m not ready” you tell them. “hmm what to do, what to do” Astarion says. “what do you think Gale?”. “well if she can’t choose….” They seem to communicate without using words, and your getting a little nervous. “oh look Gale we’re making our girl nervous”. Your cheeks heat up, their girl? “hm, maybe we need to show her” Gale says. “show me what?” you ask nervously. “you’ll see” Astarion says darkly, more dark than you ever hear him before. “hands out darling” he says and you do. you don’t know where he got it from but he binds your wrist together with rope. “what?” you ask shocked. You hear Gale chuckle as he comes up behind you. “don’t worry, we’ll take care of you” you heard Astarion’s voice when it got dark, but you never knew Gale could do the same and you feel yourself already getting wet at the sound of his dark voice. “you sure you can handle us both” he whispers into your ear while Astarion binds your hands above you. “what” you whisper. “do you think you can handle us both?” Gale asks again before kissing your neck. “hmmhmm” you murmur. A hands replaces his soft lips as Astarion holds you tightly by your throat. “he asked you something darling” he says, his pupils blown wide. “yes” you gasp. “you sure?” “yes” you breath out again. “good” Astarion says as he let’s go of you. they switch places, Astarion now standing behind you and Gale in front of you. Gale kisses you deeply before he drops to his knees before you.

“may i?” he asks looking up at you. you nod your head. “use your words love” he demands. “yes, please” you tell him. he lowers your pants and underwear before he places a soft kiss on your wet heat. You gasp. “gods I wanted to taste you for so long”. He says before he kisses and licks you where you need him most. “fuck yes” you moan, letting you head fall back on Astarion’s shoulder. “look at how he’s eating you darling, he looks like a starved man, all for you” Astarion says while he holds you so you can see exactly what Gale is doing to you “fuck” you breath out at the sight. “it get’s me hungry too” Astarion says brushing your hair back from your neck. You feel a sting before pleasure washes over you as he sinks his teeth into you and drinks. You never knew it heightened your feelings this much. You moan as the feeling overwhelm you. “shhhh be quite darling, otherwise the whole camp will know what we’re doing to you” Astarion tells you, before he goes back to sucking your neck.

You gasp out loud as you feel Gale’s finger enter you while his tongue still strokes your clit. “what did I tell you” Astarion says as his hand covers your mouth. “stay silent, or we have to punish you darling”. You try your hardest but the pleasure is to great and you feel your orgasm rise. Gale was not lying when he told you he had a skilled tongue, gods. “oh she’s about to come” Gale says against you clit making a moan slip, but it’s being muffled by Astarion’s hand. “that fast” Astarion says mockingly. He grabs your throat and places a bruising kiss on your lips as your orgasm washes over you. “good girl” he whispers against your lips as you pant. “you taste absolutely define dear” Gale says staring up at you. “fuck Gale that was amazing” you tell him stroking his cheek lovingly. “oh we aren’t done yet darling” Astarion says, a grin on his face that means trouble. you look over at him. “are you sure, I, I don’t want you to do anything you aren’t ready for yet” you tell him, while still trying to catch your breath. “don’t worry about me darling, I’m right where I want to be” he says before you feel a finger against your back entrance. “oh fuck Astarion” you moan. “you sure you can take us both?” he asks, pushing against my back entrance harder. “I didn’t think…” you breath out. “you didn’t think what? that we meant at the same time? Darling you know better than that”. With that he pushes the tip of his finger inside you, slowly. “fuck” you breath out, it unlike anything you ever felt before. “hmmm I like virgin ass, think you can take me while Gale fills your other hole” he whispers. As on que gale starts removing his clothes. “someone is eager, I think he likes the idea” Astarion says darkly. “I, I don’t-” you breath out and moan as Astarion pushes his finger deeper inside you. “look at your eager ass sucking my finger in, you are a whole less innocent then I thought you were” he says “are you ready for Gale to fuck you darling?” he asks. “y-yes” you breath out, you need more. “eyes on me then” Gale says, grabbing your chin roughly and making you look at him. “you sure you can take me?” he asks. You nod franticly. He looks so good standing there in just his underwear, you wanna touch him, kiss him but your bound in place by the rope. “give our girl what she wants” Astarion says before he plunges another finger inside your ass.

Gale removes his underwear, and you suddenly don’t feel so sure you can actually take him. “don’t look so surprised love” Gale says his voice darker than you ever heard it before. “i-I” you can’t get the words out as a moan slips from your lips, when he enters you in one thrust. Your head falls back and your eyes close at the feeling of his thick length inside you. you never had someone this big before. “fuck your tight” Gale groans. “oh fuck” you breath feeling to full and overwhelmed already, and he hasn’t even moved yet. “How does she feel?” Astarion asks Gale. “so. Fucking. Tight” he groan as he slowly starts moving. “oh fuuuck” you moan, unable to stay silent. Your hands search for something to hold on to, but the rope is keeping you from it. “does it feel good darling” Astarion whispers in your ear as he stretches your ass with his fingers. “f-fuck y-yes” you breath out as Gale picks up speed. “hmm you like gale fucking you while I stretch your ass?”. “yes” you moan again. “good girl, look how well you’re taking us” Gale groans as he picks up speed, hitting that one spot inside you that makes you scream. Astarion’s hand clamps over your mouth again “what did I say about keeping silent darling?” he says mockingly. I moan into his hand as Gale thrust in harder and deeper. “fuck your ready to come again aren’t you, I feel you fucking clamping on my fingers” he groans. “please” you beg them, but the sound is muffles by Astarion’s hand. “what was that darling….you want it harder and…deeper?” Astarion says mockingly. “I think she said she wants it harder Gale” he says. you try to shake your head, it’s already to much but Gale picks up speed even faster and Astarion pushes a third finger in your ass. You come so hard you see stars. But both men don’t stop. No, they continue their ungodly rhythm.

“I think she’s ready for a little more” Astarion says as he pulls his finger out your ass. “no” you breathe. “I can’t” you say trying desperately to catch your breath after the best orgasm you’ve had in your life. “you can darling” Astarion says as he swiftly removes his clothing. Gale’s ruthless tempo slows and he just shallowly thrusts in and out you as a softer pace now. “hold her open for me” Astarion asks him. Gales hands come down on your ass and he pulls you ass cheeks apart. “fuck your beautiful” you hear Astarion say, before you feel something push against your back entrance. “fuck” you groan as you feel him push against you. “relax darling, let me in” he says in a more caring voice now. He pushes against you “fuck I need some lube” he says. not even a second later Gale magically conjures a bottle of lube. “and that’s why I like wizards” Astarion says before you feel something cold touch your ass. You feel Gale pull out of you just when Astarion enters you. at first it feels unpleasant, but then it feels full, so fucking full. “gods” you breathe. “you’re doing so well love” gale says his hand leaving your ass as he circles your clit, slowly, but firmly. Until Astarion is seated fully inside. “you feel so good darling” Astarion half groans “are you okay?” he asks you. “yes” you breathe “are you?” you ask him, you hate that you can’t see him right now. “I’m more than okay darling” he says before he slowly starts moving. “oh shit” you moan, why does it feel good. It also hurt a little but in some way that made you even more wet. “fuck yes darling” you hear Astarion groan. You take it as a good sign, and that he’s enjoying himself so your mind stops worrying about him.

You close your eyes enjoying the feeling. Your eyes shoot open when you feel Gale’s cock move through your folds. “Gale” you gasps as he puts himself against your entrance. “you wanted us both, so you get us both” he says darkly before he slowly thrusts inside you. your vision blurs at the overwhelming fullness you feel. “fuck I can fucking feel you” Astarion mutters to Gale. “fuck” Gale groans in response. I’m already feeling another orgasm rise. “please…please” you have no idea what you’re begging for, the stimulation overwhelming you. “come for us” Gale orders as he starts moving in and out of you again. You’re so close, you’re almost there…….. Astarion’s lips crash on Gale’s and the sight of there tongue’s clashing is enough to make you burst.

Your visions blackens for a second. Both Astarion and Gale have stopped moving. “there she is, good girl” Gale murmurs as he places a loving kiss on your forehead. “fuck I can’t anymore” you breathe. “you can do one more” Astarion says as you feel him pull out your ass. “I want to look at you as I come” he says, as he and Gale switch places.

Astarion lifts you up and you wrap your legs around him, kissing him deeply. You moan into the kiss as he enters you. the feeling is so overwhelming you don’t know if you can handle one more orgasm. “no, I can’t. please” you beg. “you can do one more darling” Astarion says as he kisses you again. you feel Gale’s presents at your back before he trust inside your back entrance in one thrust. “hmmhhmmm f-ffuuuckk” you have no idea where the sounds are coming from that leave you, and who might hear. But you’re too far gone to care. You only feel them. Gale and Astarion as they thrust in and out of your holes in a brutal paste. “fuck I’m gonna come” Gale groans. “fuck, me to” Astarion says back. “you gonna come with us love” Gale says kissing your neck. “oh fuck…FUCK!” you scream out as yet another orgasm breaks you. you feel Gale and Astarion come inside you almost at the same time. You have no idea if your still coming or if it’s another orgasm. Astarion cut’s the rope holding your hands bound to the tent. Your hand are still bound as you put them around Astarion’s neck. “I love you guys” your words come out as if your drunk or something, but you mean what you say. or at least you think you do. thinking is a little hard right now. “darling” you hear Astarion whisper. “darling come back to us”. It’s then that you realize you have closed your eyes and your face is burried in Astarion’s neck. “hm?” you open your eyes and looking at him. “there she is again” he says.

Gale walks into the tent, you didn’t even realize he left, or noticed when he pulled out of you. “let’s clean you up” he says as Astarion puts you down and unties your hands. After Gale has cleaned you up you lay down in your tent. Your cuddled up between the 2 men. Your head lays on Gales chest while Astarion’s hand is slung over you. “so you’re really okay with this?” I ask Gale. “yes, I’d do anything for your love. Besides, he isn’t so bad” he says nodding to Astarion before kissing you softly.

 Astarion has been suspiciously silent, and it worries you. you roll around to look at him. he seems lost in his mind. “Astarion?” you ask softly. You should have know he was not ready for this. “Astarion?” you ask again when he doesn’t react. “yes darling?” he says looking over at you, as his normal charming self, like nothing is wrong. “are you okay?” you ask him softly. “I am” he says smiling at you. you look at him, really look, and you know there is more to it than that. Tears spring into your eyes as you really look at him. because he doesn’t look fine. And you hate yourself for being so caught up in your lust and desires you didn’t think how this would be for him. “hey, what are the tears for darling?” he asks as he brushes them away. “I’m sorry, I just, I didn’t want you to do anything you clearly wasn’t ready for. I’m so so sorry Astarion” you tell him. “hey come here” he says holding you tightly to his chest. “I was ready, I am ready…with you I’m ready. You have nothing to apologize for. I enjoyed what we just did. It’s just” he says taking a deep breath. “it’s just what?” you ask him, looking up at him with teary eyes. “it’s just that I realize now what I missed all those years. It never felt like it does with you” he says softly. “what?” I ask him. “please don’t make me repeat that, it’s hard enough to tell you this, but yes. With you it feels right, I enjoy it and I can’t get enough of you. I’ve forgotten what that felt like” he says. “I love you” you tell him. “I love you too” he says his eyes shining like you’ve never seen them before. You place a soft kiss on his lips before you turn to Gale “and I love you” you tell him. “I love you too” he says smiling as he cuddles you from behind, as you fall asleep on Astarion’s chest.

The next morning you’re the first one awake, and you decide to make your men some breakfast. You slowly get out of their grip, careful not to wake them and leave your tent. You’re a bit sore, okay more than a bit, your ass feel raw, but it only makes you remember last night which makes you smile. “so had fun last night he?” Karlach says grinning. “I would appreciate it not waking me up in the future” Shadowheart says looking at you judging. “leave the girl be, everyone needs a little fun once in a while. And she deserves it for all she’s done for us” Wyll says, as always the gentleman. “so who was it?” Karlach asks. “oh well uhm”. “no way” Shadowheart gasps as both Gale and Astarion walk out of your tent at the same time. “go get em girl” Karlach grins, fist bumping your shoulder before everyone returns to their daily tasks. “you okay there love, your cheeks are a little flushed” Gale says. “I told you to keep silent darling” Astarion grins at you before they both kiss one of your cheeks. “now let’s get breakfast, you need to eat before round 2 tonight”.

[adonis-koo]

wicked • 16

↳ Summary: In a desperate hope to stop war from breaking you are a serviced to wed the most vile man alive, the one who has committed atrocities and war crimes beyond comprehension, he who is responsible for the fall of many nations, the wicked prince who’s heart is made of stone. You are to marry a man who challenges every belief and moral you stand for, all while being faced in a foreign land with nobody but yourself too trust…But are you both truly that different? Or is hate not too far from love?

↳ Pairing: Jungkook/reader

↳ Genre: arranged marriage AU, enemies to lovers, it’s kind of a period AU??? Historical but also technically not? prince!AU, eventual smut

Word Count: 10.8k

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Note: the queen has returned everybody! good luck

Wood echoed off of wood, clapping together in a viscous motion as Jungkook’s brows pinched together, frantic to stave off the aggressive blows. He was already exhausted though, training before sunrise until sunset, only to sneak out like this. 

It could get him in a lot of trouble- both of them for that matter.

He fumbled against a blow he deflected, stepping back only for his foot to hit a dip in the ground. 

The next blow came but his reflexives weren’t sharp enough to block it, resulting in the wooden sword slamming hard into his shoulder as he yelped out.

The breath felt as though it had been knocked out of him as he gasped for air, his back planted into the ground as his name was called- or perhaps the closest he usually heard to it.

“Your Highness!” Big brown eyes peered over him in concern, “I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to hurt you.” 

Jungkook sputtered, long black hair accidentally getting in his mouth as he waved her away, “You didn’t hurt me Wheein, and stop calling me that!” He hurriedly sat upright before slumping a little.

Though Jungkook said it, it didn’t take away from the fact that it did hurt, Wheein hit hard, perhaps harder than she intended too. But Jungkook wouldn’t shy away from it, he needed to be pushed hard if he wanted to one day be a good swordsman. 

Wheein quickly backed away from him, kneeling down as she peered at him, still in mild concern, “But you’re the Crowned Prince.” 

This made Jungkook cross his arms with a huff, he knew he was the Crowned Prince, but for once he just wanted someone to treat him as a friend. He hated his title, he didn’t ask to be the next King of Penumbra, and he certainly didn’t ask to be drafted into this stupid war.

Just the thought had fear plunging into his veins like poison, he only had two weeks of training left before his official draft would begin. 

When his father told him, Jungkook knew better than to cry, though he wanted to. He kept it in, but still his father was repulsed at the sight of the boy groveling, begging his father to not send him.

‘This isn’t fair, father!’ He remembered crying out, his eyes filled with hurt and glassy, on the verge of tears he told himself he wouldn’t cry. 

And then his father’s response was even more vivid than his own.‘Life isn’t fair nor is it kind Jungkook, and you best be learning that as soon as you can.’

Just the memory made him clench his fists, and just as his father suggested, he decided to put all of his anger and frustration into training. But no matter how hard he trained, how hard he tried, how much he exhausted himself. 

It still hurt.His uncle, Jeong Dae didn’t seem to understand either, he had gone to him in some effort to lick his wounds and receive a bit of comfort, but his uncle only replied by telling him he should be honored to serve his country.

That this was his chance to prove himself to his people, to the Rosewood’s, to the world that he would be worthy of being King. 

The only problem was that Jungkook didn’t want to be King. He didn’t want to rule, he didn’t want to go to war and he certainly didn’t want to die. And no matter how much everyone tried to pet him, he could see past their empty eyes, they were sending him to his grave, he was certain of it. 

“Are you okay?” Wheein frowned, mirroring his own as she set down her sword, “You’re crying…”

Jungkook’s bottom lip quivered, both in anger and pent up sadness as he roughly shoved his tears away. How they had managed to slip out was beyond him, but he wouldn’t let it happen again. For his father, his family, and his country, he would do what was expected of him. 

His feelings didn’t matter, evidently enough. 

“It doesn’t hurt that bad.” He shook his head, ignoring her words, “You should get back to Skol before Di Jin catches you out here.”

Wheein’s frown deepened as she folded her hands together, taking one long look at him before she took a breath, “Alright, you should rest as well, I know the War Matron has been pushing all of the underling’s after dark now that there’s only a two weeks left until graduation.” 

Jungkook set his hands on his lap, “If they’d let you serve the war would be over in a day.” 

Wheein offered a small smile, “Maybe, but I’m not a boy and I’m not royalty either. Rest well Prince.” 

And with that Wheein grabbed her cloak that had been discarded, pulling it over her head to conceal her figure before she disappeared into the dark. Jungkook might have been concerned had it been anyone else, but he saw her take her wooden sword. 

He winced as he rubbed his shoulder, she could easily bludgeon someone to death if they made her angry enough, she’d be fine. 

Jungkook had sulked for only a little longer before getting up, rubbing his shoulder as he grabbed his wooden sword before sneaking his way back to the boys barracks. 

“You are an idiot, truly.” 

Jungkook hadn’t said anything for a long while, his gaze looking out over their great kingdom, the very same one his great grandfather built stone by stone, all for it to turn into this? And even despite the shitshow of a display earlier the only person missing from the parlor was his father. 

Perhaps unwilling to bother with such trifles at the late hour despite it being the Crowned Princess who had been missing. Jungkook had felt his whole stomach lurch when he had woken up, you missing from his embrace and he attempted to be rational at first, assuming you had gone on a late walk and taken Yoongi with you. 

But upon seeing Yoongi still on watch outside the doors had him immediately reeling, flashes of anxiousness and worry wrought in his entire being which came in lashes of anger to everyone around him. It didn’t matter what Jeong Dae and Areum told him in an attempt to calm him down, he wouldn’t be until you were found and safe. 

And the relief he felt when you came in, when he was finally able to hold you once more and see with his own two eyes that you were safe, it was in that moment that he knew there was no going back with how he felt. 

You had somehow entangled yourself in his entire being, somehow wiggling your way into the forefront of his mind every time you were apart and making him constantly have the desire to keep you wrapped against him. 

And yet he didn’t understand. Your words still coldly rang in his ears. Things could not be over between you both, they had hardly even begun, so surely, out of a fit of rage, much like you had in the past, said something damning in the moment.

Still, it troubled him deeply, Jungkook shook his head, “I don’t understand what I said wrong,” He frowned, deeply troubled by what had transpired, “It was the truth nobody else would tell her…”

He was honest when he said he took no pleasure in telling you the truth, but everything he said was the truth you so desperately wanted.

Your anger was justified, but why couldn’t you see from his side…? He was stretched beyond thin and Jeong Dae had only goaded him further into investigating you, he was the one who had planted a seed of doubt. 

But deep in the crevices of Jungkook’s mind laid bare his true feelings, ones he wanted viciously to deny, but still they lingered in the dark, perhaps the seed had already been there, Jeong Dae only watered it.

“You don’t…!?” Areum raised her brows, groaning as she ran a hand through her hair, “Good god you don’t understand why she was upset with you!? Jeon Jungkook! You don’t tell the women you love that you were justified in what you did!” 

“Then what would you have me do?” Jungkook snarled, his gaze finally snapping to hers. 

He already had one woman scold him tonight, he didn’t need another one to further it.

Areum puffed a breath, crossing her arms, “You could first start by swallowing your pride and admitting your’re wrong, and then you could move along to groveling for her forgiveness. But something tells me she won’t care until you genuinely mean it.” 

Jungkook’s lip twitched as he angrily shook his head, “She’ll be fine after she’s done throwing her tantrum. She’s prone to saying cruel things when she’s angry, she didn’t earn that title for nothing.” 

His words may be cruel, but they were a truth no one could dispute, Jungkook was the first to witness your wrath the very moment the door to your wedding chambers had closed. Though in time he grew to know you as you were truly seen by those closest to you. 

Tender to the core, there was such a profound air of softness about you that was constantly coiled tight like a venomous snake, hissing and ready to strike at anybody who dared get close to it. 

And yet again, Jungkook was struck by your venom this night. When you loved, you were like the gentlest, warmth of days, the embodiment of the sun in his eyes, incandescent and enchanting, but when you raged? 

You were nothing short of a thunderstorm, not the rain but the lightning that followed, striking yet again in a chaotic manner that no one, let alone he could predict. Your voice was like a war drum that would not be silenced. Areum only raised her brows at this, “Right…well, let me know how that goes for you little nephew. Betrayal is easily the deepest wound one can inflict, lest we all know that here. Goodnight.” 

She spoke with finality before she exited the room, leaving Jungkook alone with his uncle. 

Silence lingered in the room, the fireplace roaring with flames and wickedly dancing as Jungkook glowered in the coals.

He only wanted your safety tonight, perhaps if he had stayed asleep, this all could have been prevented.

“Are you satisfied?” Jungkook finally asked, “She hadn’t even sent a single letter out until she began writing to her mother to inquire about Yule.” It left an empty feeling in his chest as he crossed his arms, “She’d never be a spy, it isn’t who she is.”

You were many things, a dichotomy to the court. You were soft but sharp, merciful but unforgiving, hot and cold. But of all the things you were, Jungkook knew the one thing you were not, was indefinitely, a spy.

He was consumed by paranoia when he sent for your letters to be searched, in hindsight he wondered if he had calmed his mind down, he would’ve made a different decision.

Jeong Dae walked over to him, putting a hand on his shoulder, “You did what you must to yet again secure your seat to the throne, we would never be certain until you had it done. True as Areum’s words may be, the girl will come to one day understand your reasoning.” 

Jungkook said nothing in return, his eyes still cast out over the dark kingdom, “I hope you’re right.” 

“Get some rest Jungkook,” Jeong Dae replied, “You’ll need it in the days to come.” 

Jungkook was then left alone with his thoughts before he reluctantly returned to his chambers where it laid empty just as he had woken up earlier, the bed felt entirely too big and as he laid awake in bed, staring up at the canopy a feeling began to creep into his chest that felt entirely too much like regret. 

“Princess…I’m not typically someone who pries but…is there a reason we’ve been here all morning?” Yoongi had finally spoken up after taking you to the stables at the first light of day where you had been keeping Fenrir company. 

At first you had went on a walk with him before playing with him and now you had been resting in the stables for the last hour, tenderly stroking through his fur as he rested his chin on his paws, perhaps sensing your downcast mood as he licked at your hands occasionally in comfort. 

The pup had definitely grown, he was bigger now, to some guards uncomfortably so, his head was perched at the top of your stomach when he stood tall now.

“No reason in particular…” You mumbled, not wanting to talk about it at the moment. You had so many things and feelings to sort through, and admittedly you were not used to working through it completely by yourself. 

Not only were you having to deal with Wheein being unrightfully accused of being the assassin but now with the betrayal of Jungkook having investigated you as a spy behind your back along with the news of Eunoia.

It made your head dully ache in all truthfulness, it would have been one thing if Di Jin pounced on you with a dated piece of information, something you wouldn’t have put past Jungkook to do just after your wedding. 

But two weeks ago?

Two weeks?

You felt incredibly naive and stupid to believe, geniunely that you both were closer then this. You didn’t know how to feel, about anything anymore, and more than anything you were wrought with homesickness. 

You didn’t want the gray chilled days anymore, you wanted to go home. 

Yoongi sighed in exasperation as he nodded, “Very well, then let’s discuss why you thought it was a good decision to go outside the castle after hours, by yourself, telling no one of your status and meeting up with the sworn enemy of the crown!”

Your lip jutted a little, not appreciating the scolding, but it was a foolish decision you made and the least you deserved was this for that. One thing however caused your head to shoot up right, “How did you…?” 

It was one thing for you to admit to going to the Undeside, but how could Yoongi know that you met up with Claudin? He fled the moment he got you outside the courtyard. 

“I’m Areum’s right hand and before that an assassin, I have more eyes then just my own after hours.” Yoongi’s glare furrowed, “And to let that rat take you to the Underside, did you want a death sentence Princess?”

You glumly leaned back against the wooden wall, your hand mindlessly stroking Fenrir’s side as he sprawled out at the attention, his feet digging into your side but you paid it no mind. Had you not gone to the Underside you would’ve assumed he meant all of the looming assassination threats.

But after having gone, it was only now that you realized being assassinated was a lot lower on the list of ways you could potentially die in Penumbra then you had originally thought. It was undeniable that your eyes were opened to the truth. Just about everyone in this damn kingdom wanted your head on a pike. It was a bitter pill to swallow. 

“Well it’s certainly come to my attention that a death sentence for me is far more imminent then the court ever let on. If visiting the Underside was anything to go by.” You mumbled the comment that occupied your mind. 

Yoongi ignored your question, “Send me outside if it upsets you Princess but I’m going to ask anyway, why did you go with him?” You shook your head, lip twitching with anger just as he anticipated, “I had no other choice,” You finally spoke, eyes raw with rage, “Not a single person in this castle dared to tell me anything, it’s as if, I was living in a bubble this whole time, blind to what’s been going on in the outside world. I took no pleasure in going with Claudin, but he was the only one willing to show me the truth.” 

Yoongi frowned deeply as he crossed his arms, “And how is that cold truth treating you Princess? Being ignorant is a blessing few come by these days.”

Your eyes stung with tears of rage but you refused to let them fall, “That is a luxury I was never allowed to have as a child. I tended to the disembodied civilians of children, men and women alike, all left from the wars your country waged. I stoked the fires with their bodies and choked on the ash of their bones. Ignorance was never an option.”

Yoongi huffed shaking his head, as though he didn’t particularly enjoy hearing about the mess they caused without thinking twice, “How long will you weaponize the past against Penumbra?” 

You shook your head, “It’s not a matter of weaponizing, it goes beyond Penumbra, beyond myself, it goes back to the Age of Celestia, the moment the Dryads left this earth, the moment we were stripped from our grace. That’s when our eyes were opened to the world around us, it is our curse to bear. To be savage, tooth and fang and yet wholly crave the peace of the earth.”

“Call it whatever you may, but I would always rather the unpleasant truth than the sweetness of lies.”

Yoongi said no more, leaning against the side of the wall as he shook his head. 

It was silent for a long moment before you spoke up, not wanting to bid ill with him, after all he was your personal knight, or you supposed assassin was a better interpretation. He had every right to be upset with you, but you didn’t want any more bad blood to fester. 

“Last night,” You frowned, “When Di Jin came in, it was he who announced I went to the Underside.” 

Yoonig snorted, “A pot-stirrer that one, I’m not surprised.” 

“Neither am I,” You admitted, the little time you’ve spent with Di Jin would point to such, “But it was what Jungkook said to him in return. Something that insinuated Di Jin played a hand in the Underside…?” 

‘My wife would never step foot in that pit you caused.’

Jungkook’s words rang in your ears as you glanced at Yoongi, perhaps with him being Areum’s right hand, he would have more insight into this. Yoongi however only sighed as he ran a hand through his hair before he finally took a seat upon a bale of hay that was against the wall beside him.

“While I am still indefinitely angry at you,” Yoongi glared a little before it softened, “I also want to impart some knowledge on you, seeing how serious you take this whole truthful business. While what you saw in the Underside is very real, it is only a fragment of Penumbra as a whole. It is the depths of criminal activity and the most low or dangerous of people roam.” 

“Di Jin was the captain of the Guard during the five year war, but during this time, we had serviced many into the war to help, many volunteered as well, food had to be rationed and many mourned for their men and boys that would not return. But many men also resisted to help in the war, they flooded the streets with crime of all sorts as a way to rebel against the draft,”

Yoongi frowned as he recalled those days, “While the King was busy buried in the war room, Di Jin took it upon himself to create a prison of sorts in the lowest district in the city, him and his guard raided the whole Capitol at night and threw them all in there as some means of justice and restoring order.” 

You tilted your heads in curiosity at his words. 

“And I understand the idea he had in mind,” Yoongi admitted before scoffing, “But imagine it Princess, throwing all of the lowly thieves and murders together in one place? It’d be hell on earth, well instead of murdering one another like Di Jin assumed they would, they ended up couping the whole place. Tearing it down in troves and claiming it as their own little Kingdom, it is now shrouded from the Capitol in fear of who still roams there. It is without a doubt the most dangerous part of Penumbra.” 

“So what happened to Di Jin when they all took hold of the district?” You asked, almost eager as you sat upright from your previously slumped position. 

“Well he got decommissioned,” Yoongi grinned, as if it amused him, “Conducting something on that scale without the King’s permission was a one way ticket to it, not only that but thoroughly botching it too? Because Di Jin served in the war alongside the King, he allowed him to walk free. Otherwise he’d surely be rotting in the dungeon right now.” 

You grabbed your chin in thought, “There must be a reason Di Jin is trying to say Wheein is the assassin, I just can’t make sense of it…” 

“I wouldn’t think much of it truthfully Princess,” Yoongi said with a soft lament, “I feel as though, in some cases, it purely has to do with being at the wrong place, in the wrong time.”

Somehow this horrified you even more than if it was some clever plot, “Wheein does not deserve to die- let alone at the fate of being at the wrong place and the wrong time!” 

“But think Princess,” Yoongi urged you, “If Di Jin caught the ‘assassin’ he would be back in favor with the court and more importantly, the King.”

“Why would he want the King’s favor now though?” You wondered aloud, frowning at the idea, surely Dae Seong wasn’t blind to the idea that letting Di Jin into his court was a poor idea, let alone letting the man be an advisor to him.

‘Well…You said Di Jin was the one who announced you went to the Underside, did he say anything else…?” 

You thought on it for a long moment, “No he didn’t but…” you trailed off at remembering what Yoongi previously said, how he had more than his own eyes at night, “It’s more, what he didn’t say.” 

You felt a sense of dread fill in your stomach as Yoongi urged you on, “And what would that be?” 

“You said you knew I went with Claudin,” You replied, “But Di Jin…He didn’t mention Claudin at all, just that I had been seen there…Yoongi.” 

You turned to him, something akin to the realization in your face, “After Di Jin was decommissioned from the Captain of the Guard…he became a bounty hunter. The Wolf of the West.” Yoongi's expression twisted from confusion to shock and then to pure anger as he crossed his arms, “Perfect, now we have two rats to deal with. Best we set one trap for both Princess…” 

You nodded, “Yes...you are certainly right about that.” 

The idea of facing your husband once again at the table of Namjoon’s study was less than desired, but if your judgment was right, then you would simply have to put your hurt aside, for the safety of not only Wheein but for yourself and potentially the whole of the kingdom. 

“Are you ready Princess?” Yoongi asked, grabbing the handle of the door. Taking one deep breath to calm yourself you nodded before he opened the door for you stepped inside. 

The others were in hushed voices before pausing at the sight of you, all giving you a bow except for you at the end of the table. 

Jungkook. 

His eyes were unreadable as yours at the moment, but the coldness between you both was difficult to not notice. It was hard to imagine once upon a time, this was a normal interaction to you both, now you felt oceans apart. 

“Princess,” Namjoon spoke first, his eyes filled with both concern and curiosity, “We all received word about you urgently needing to speak with us, has something new developed.”

“It has not completely revealed itself but Yoongi and I were speaking this morning and happened upon an odd but…damning clue that’s been staring us in the face this whole time…” You frowned as you walked to the table, “Please sit.” 

Everyone did so as Yoongi pushed your chair, sitting at the opposite end of the table you chose to ignore his intense stare as you began to recall the events of the evening, leaving out most details of the Underside as you were simply too embarrassed to actually speak of what you had discovered. 

After explaining your thoughts and concerns to them Jungkook was immediately the first to speak, “I’m going to slaughter that man,” There was a deep rage in his eyes, “To have the audacity to parade around in my castle, pretend to be someone he isn’t at my court. Try to murder my wife.” It was hissed out, his fingers twitching as if wanting to pick up a blade and slit the man's throat this very moment. 

“Jungkook,” Namjoon ushered in a soft chastising voice, as if scolding a younger brother that was being too hasty with his decisions, “As the Princess said, we don’t know if this is the full truth. However it is the best lead we have and most likely right. But we need to play our cards right, Dae Seong favors him, it would be best to not go in accusing him of anything without any evidence.”

“So where does that leave us then?” Hoseok frowned looking in thought, “We’ve double downed on our efforts but whatever Di Jin is hiding, it’s locked tight.” 

“It would make sense though,” Jimin frowned, leaning back in his seat, his cheek resting on his palm, “Whenever I’ve spoken to him all he’s said is cryptic things like, ‘if you side with me you’re boon will be great’ or ‘just wait watch as the chaos unfolds’.”

“Chaos unfold?” Namjoon asked with piqued curiosity. 

Jimin lifted his hands in exasperation, “Don’t ask me, I never knew what the hell my old man was on about. What I do know is that he has always put himself first. So even if he is aligned with the Rosewoods, it’s only temporary.” 

“So what?” Yoongi asked, “You think if the Rosewood’s take the crown Di Jin would simply murder them and take it for himself.” 

“That's what I would do,” Jimin shrugged, “Take’s a bastard to know a bastard.” 

“If his information is locked tight then we need to dig harder.” Jungkook replied, he looked brooding and still very much angry, “I want eyes on him at all time.” He looked to Yoongi who nodded, “And Claudin as well, as much as they can without compromising their position.” 

Everyone nodded at this before the meeting was dismissed, everyone departing until it was three who remained. 

“Yoongi, leave us.” Jungkook still sat at the opposite end of you, not even sparing the assassin a glance. 

Yoongi however did not leave as he glanced at you, as if asking for your permission if you were okay with this. 

Did you want to talk to him? Not particularly, but he was your husband and this court was only so big, you would eventually have to talk to him about it, the idea of forgiving him made you seethe in rage though. 

You were tired of compromising, tired of learning, tired of having to be understanding. 

“You may wait outside.” You finally glanced at Yoongi with a nod, he then bowed before he exited, closing the door behind him. It was silent for a long minute as you glanced around the study, it was well decorated, maps lining the walls and bookshelves filled to the brim.

It was a quaint thing, not at all organized like the great library, but absolutely Namjoon, books of all shapes and sizes crammed together, some standing up right, others laid on their side to fit inside. 

You stood up to wander around a little in curiosity, ignoring the blatant stares of your husband before you finally settled at the window out looking over the woodland of the meadow. 

“It doesn’t have to be like Y/n…” Jungkook sighed, staring at your back, a sense of yearning in his chest, as if you were so close and yet so far from his reach once again. 

“No it didn’t.” You agreed coldly, folding your arms. He acted as if you’re the one being unreasonable here when he was the one who betrayed you. 

“All you have to do-”

“Yes I know!” You snarled, turning around as fury whiplashed into your veins once more, “All I have to do! Tell me Jungkook had I not been the one to apologize first to you, would you have ever given me a chance? Had I not been the one to swallow my pride, take the lashings from you even so. All I have ever done is give. I am done giving.” Your lips trembled despite the glares you both mirrored, “I have nothing left to give. I meant every word I said to you last night. I may be many things but I am not a fool.” 

“What I did was necessary to secure the crown,” Jungkook hissed back, angry and upset with your words, as if flat out refusing to believe they were nothing but the truth you spoke, “The world is engulfed in politics, all of that of Eunoia is only rumors, rumors you were better off not festering among the thousand other things we’re dealing with. But most of all, I am not your enemy Y/n.” 

You shook your head angrily, “That may be how you feel but that isn’t how I see it Jungkook, I had every right to know about Eunoia, even if nothing more then rumors. You may not be my enemy but you are certainly not my lover.” 

Jungkook’s lip visibly twitched, as if what you had said struck a nerve before he leaned in, eyes cold as before his lips curled in an icy smile, “That’s not what you said when you were moaning like a bitch in heat stuffed full with my fingers.” 

You ignored how hot the tips of your ears burned as your hands curled into fists, you had thought Claudin would be the only person who ever provoked you enough to consider violence and yet here you stand, silenting seething in rage as you glared up at your haughty so-called husband. 

You were above slapping him, but it certainly seemed tempting. So instead you say the next best thing. 

A cruel smile on your own dancing on your lips, “Perhaps because I was imagining it being my actual lover instead of you.” 

You were suddenly jostled around, pressing against the window with his chest against your back, a hand slithering possessively around your throat, “Funny because you were moaning my name the whole time.”

It would be a lie to say you weren’t shamelessly turned on right now, the sexual tension in the room was bursting from the seams, especially so with the visitation of your last intimacy together. 

But unfortunately for Jungkook, your pride would always outwin your sex drive. “You’re doing no favors for yourself right now.” You glared over your shoulder at him. 

You were unable to, however, as his mouth was already pressing a sloppy open mouthed kiss against your skin, his voice deep and breathy against the shell of your ear, “Then let me do a favor for you.” 

When you don’t reply he turned you back to face him, his lips pressing from your neck down your chest as his hands dragged from your waist to your hips, kneeling down in front of him. 

In the moment you couldn’t help but scoff a little, suddenly grabbing a fist full of his hair, yanking hard on it to make his eyes meet yours, what surprised you however was the moan that escaped his lips.

His expression may have remained neutral but you had gotten to know him too well, the slight part of his lips, his pupils blown out from lust. 

The gesture only made you more angry, “The fact that you think head is going to fix this is a joke better left unsaid. You had your chance and now it is gone. I have things to do, do not bother me again.” 

You shoved his head away from you before you stepped away from him, walking out the door without looking back. 

‘Are you ready to go Princess?” 

“More than ready.” 

“Would you like to visit Wheein meanwhile?” 

Your gaze shot up, “I can do that?” It felt like a stupid question, you were the Crowned Princess, it felt as if you shouldn’t even need to ask but given this was Penumbra, you didn’t know how things work. 

Of course you had heard of dungeons before but you had never been in one, nor did one even exist in Eunoia, the closest equivalent were called Repentance Rooms, and they were nothing like a dungeon, they were clean and well lit with barred windows captives could look out of. 

Comfortable even, they were for the liminal time between a captive being captured and trialed and if their punishment was severe they would be sent to the housing district next. 

You wouldn’t even know where to begin looking for a dungeon. 

Yoongi frowned at your words, “Well, you certainly can but last thing you want is for Di Jin to catch you snooping about.” 

“Can you make sure I’m not seen?” You stood up, folding your hands together as you stared at Yoongi pensively. 

His lips curled into a small smile as he kneeled down in front of you, grabbing your hand, “Of course, my lady. But just know there will be guards that are siding with Di Jin, if they see you they’ll alert him immediately.” 

Your face was covered with a hood and Yoongi had skillfully guided you along the narrow halls as you entered the lower levels of the castle where everything was dark and dimly lit, the smell of must becoming overpowering as guards patrolled each hall. 

Just the dim lights and dank smell made you increasingly worried, you had heard about dungeons before what it meant for captives in other kingdoms, but never thought you’d live to see one yourself. 

A naive thought once upon a time. But here you were, visiting your dearest maid who was being wrongfully accused of something you knew in your heart she’d never do. 

Yoongi had you hide in one last nook before he guided you to the very last dungeon, “Okay,” He spoke softly, “You’ll have only a few minutes with her, be brief.” 

You nodded as you crouched down, making your way to the gate, the sight broke your heart, you could hear a soft sob but Wheein was laid down on the ground, nothing but a pile of straw hay serving as a bed in a windowless cell. 

“Oh Wheein,” Your eyes immediately welled with tears, “I’m so sorry.” 

She jolted, scrambling to get up before she gapped at the sight of you, tearings streaming down her face before she crawled to the bars, “Princess.” She wept softly, before reaching throught the bars to you. 

Your arms curled around her as best as possible as she whimpered quietly, “I don’t want to die! Please! They’ll burn me! That’s what Di Jin will do, please!” 

“Princess,” Yoongi ushered out, “One more minute.”

“Shh!” You ushered, trying to keep your voice down as you pulled away from her, grabbing her soft cheeks in your hands, “We aren’t going to let that happen! Okay?” You nodded, “We’ll find a way to prove your innocence I swear by it Wheein.” 

Wheein only continued to cry, shaking her head, “He’s going to kill me Princess, I’ve dreamt of it for so long, I just know it.” 

You grabbed her hands into yours squeezing them tight as your heart ached seeing her in so many tears, “Not as long as I’m alive he won’t,” New determination rushed into your body, anger that hell had not rage against burning in your veins, “I swear on Galadria that I will serve justice where it is due.” 

“Princess! We need to go.” Yoongi whispered out, ushering you quickly. 

Wheein closed her eyes as tears trickled down her face but said no more, quickly you ushered her into one last hug before you whispered, “I’ll return soon! We better news than I have now.” 

“Please Princess, be safe.”

Those were her last whispered words before Yoongi quickly guided you back to a crook to hide as the guards made their rotation. Unfortunately for Wheein, you had no intentions of being safe, you were going to prove her innocence at whatever cost was needed. 

When you had first been told by the King, Dae Seong that you would be expected to dine with the family once a week, it had filled you with nothing but dread. Being among three men at the time was daunting.

Two which didn’t take you seriously at all, and of course the third, your husband who would either pretend you didn’t exist, or give you an icy stare and then proceed to pretend you didn’t exist.

But after the incident in the market place, Jungkook and you had somehow grown closer, fonder of one another, came to an understanding of one another and where you both had come from. 

Two weeks ago…

Your heart squeezed as you stared in the mirror, several maids floated in and out of your room and while you always tried to be kind, today you felt exhausted, only giving simple answers to whatever they asked.

What did you do two weeks ago that finally made him decide to have you spied on? You had gotten into an argument that week- at the time you thought it stupid but only now did you reflect back and realize Jungkook was venomously jealous of any inkling of an idea of Seokjin ever being your lover. 

Not only this but an odd inferiority complex he has that he would rather die than ever admit too. But…why? It made your eyes sting with tears that you refused to shed. You had said hurtful things during that argument but surely it wasn’t enough to make him do that? You’ve had worse arguments with him before that moment.

You just didn’t understand. 

“Finished Your Highness.”

The maid placed the crown on your head as you stared at yourself in the mirror, taking it in, it was heavier then it looked, but then again it was made of Noxtria metal, elaborately weaving with sharp, angles stones of onyx and metal winging out of it's sides and one large center piece in the middle.

The maids all courtesy to you, you offered a weak smile and thanks before they were dismissed. 

You took a deep shaky breath, wiping your eyes before any real tears had fallen. You just had to get through tonight, somehow, despite all of the time that had passed, it felt as if you were in some liminal space between how you first felt going to a family dinner and what it had slowly turned in too. 

Family dinner was expected tonight, however an additional note had been added on, Di Jin and close friends of the family would be attending tonight. Knowing your friends, and though you were upset with Jungkook- that they would be there brought you comfort. 

But having to deal with Di Jin all evening was not something you wanted to deal with. 

However, you were not about to cower away from him, your eyes had gone from mournful to near vengeful as you glared in the mirror, your hair elaborately done for the night by your request and a specific dress for the occasion. 

It had been hanging for a long while and you had truthfully shied away from it, feeling it was a bit too Penumbrian even for you. 

But not tonight.

It was a raven black gown, cold metal weaved into leaves intricately, an armored sweetheart neckline that wrapped all the way up to your throat, your upperarm dawned with cufflets that flowed with even more black fabric and a solid band of metal cinching your waist. 

Black had become a color of mourning in Eunoia, it was something you wore daily during the Five Year war while working in the tents as a healer. But something dawned on you as you looked through your gowns earlier in the evening. 

Before that, during the Age of Celestia, it was said that black was the color of power. Queen Celestia wore it for her ascension after devouring her husband, becoming the sole ruler of Eunoia. 

You didn’t like to think you took after the gruesome woman. But something that wasn’t often talked about was Celestia and Galadria were sisters. You shared just as much blood from one as the other. 

And right now, you wanted to wield power, not grief. 

Standing upright you were escorted down the hall, heads turned in your direction from various aristocrats to maids and servants alike as you kept your head held high and an unwelcoming expression on your face. 

The double doors were shut as per usual and though you had walked through them many times, tonight you felt just as anxious as you had the very first time as they opened. Every set of eyes at the table had turned to you, seeing as you had clearly interrupted the conversation that went on. 

Many at the table had quickly stood up, bowing to you, some more begrudging than others as your eyes locked onto Di Jin’s, his lip twitching a little as he bowed, your expression stayed as unwelcoming as before. 

You may not have been a Jeon by blood but you would certainly pretend you had their trademark cold glare tonight.

Taehyun who had been standing behind Jungkook’s chair had stepped back to pulled the empty chair out beside his, your cold look softened only a little for him, offering a brief tiny smile of thanks as he pushed you in. 

Jungkook had previously looked bored, crown of his own on his head, though from how he slumped in his chair it was just a hair crooked, dark hair dusting in front of his eyes as they met yours. 

And for the briefest moment you felt just a bit stronger having him by your side before anger quelled in you once more at the memory, two weeks, for some reason two weeks ago he chose to no longer trust you. 

Your expression remained as you looked away from him as the voice of Di Jin spoke, “It’s good to see the Princess can finally grace us with her presence.” 

“Yes, just in time for the meal, seeing as the conversation wasn’t much to look forward to.” A mocking smile curled on your lips, never before did you usually take pleasure in having power over someone, but you were experiencing many firsts in Penumbra. 

No matter how much Di Jin disliked you, he knew better than to openly disrespect you, no matter how hard he tried to undermine you in his discreet way. 

“What matters is the Princess is here now,” Jeong Dae’s gaze narrowed on Di Jin before nodding, “let us all dine now. Tell me, the progress on the market is coming along, yes?” 

You stared into your glass of wine as you swirled in, “Yes, they’re starting to lay the foundation down. Though I must confess, my servant being thrown in the dungeon has caused quite a bit of a mess in my schedule.” 

An uncomfortable energy had taken over the table as you shrugged, taking a long drink from your cup, you were not going to sit here and pretend along with everyone else that Di Jin had not done what he had.

“It’s a necessary precaution, once this assassin business has been taken care of you’ll have your servant back,” Dae Seong answered gruffly, not appreciating your lack of tack, “But should more incriminating evidence come out, a servant is expandable and just as easily replaceable.”

Your gaze slowly pulled to his as the silence at the table ensued once more, when had human life become so expandable as he said? 

You understood less and less as to why they felt this way, why they chose to believe this.

After a long moment your lips twisted into a grin that looked more like a grimace, “I thought you might say that your Majesty.” You however said nothing else as you took another drink from your cup.

The table was quiet for a long moment and nobody spoke, despite the silence it was almost comforting to you, to know that your words held some sort of weight to them even if it felt in the moment they were nothing more than an illusion to how you truly felt. 

“Not to interrupt this moment, but perhaps we should discuss the east, it's come to our attention that Kyoto has movement in the east, if they continue our progress will be delayed“ Jimin spoke up, a frown on his face with evident worry, “We've been tracking them down, and it seems they're making a sort of pattern, if I didn't know any better I'd say they were mapping out the best way to invade us.”

“That would be hasty on their part,” Jeong Dae spoke up, “We just passed The Rite of Peace this year, they wouldn’t be foolish to invade us just after the prince and princess wed.”

“Fools aren't so different from the brave,” Jungkook spoke up, swirling his goblet of wine in his hand looking rather bored, though his gaze occasionally went to you, as if hoping you would be looking at him, “ Would it be that outlandish to assume, that they do not care about the Rite of Peace?” 

“This is true,” Di Jin, surprisingly spoke up with agreement, “After all, why would the world let a nation as glorious as us live for one simple girl.”

There was a certain amount of venom in his tone that did not surpass you, though you didn't let it disturb you as it once may have. you suppose somewhere along the line, that you had gotten used to an unsurpassable amount of hatred that for some reason people in Penumbra felt entitled to take out on you.

it was a ugly truth, but it was the truth nonetheless, and Di Jin had a point, no matter how unpleasant it was, why would the world let a nation that had killed countless people, destroyed homes, decimated nations live on, if there is one thing you had learned in Eunoia, it was that you were indeed replaceable.

Dare you say you felt almost as if you were a sacrificial lamb, sent to slaughter, and whether you died by an assassin or by an invasion, did it ever truly matter in the end? You weren't sure. 

Jungkook did not speak, but he didn't need words to convey his feelings, his glare was enough to display his displeasure in Di Jin’s words.

Hoseok cut in, “Perhaps, but if they were to invade, there's no telling what kind of uproar it would cause with other nations. Especially if they kill the princess in the process, even if it is only one person, nobody can deny the influence Eunoian Princess has.” 

“Regardless, it would be wise to have a plan.”  Namjoon said diplomacy and his voice as he attempted to steer the conversation into a less hostile direction, “The people are restless, and with word having gotten out about Eunoia training soldiers along with Kimhae, and now Kyoto, they'll need guidance especially as winter approaches.” 

You sharply inhaled, trying to not let anger seep through your veins again, though tempting, just the idea of Eunoia training soldiers was outlandish, ever since the Age of Celestia soldiers have been out of the question, if the rumors were true why would they start now?

Nothing made sense, you tried to ignore the stares, but it was evident that people in the room did not trust you, after all even your own husband felt he could not trust you at one time. 

Two weeks ago, no matter how hard you tried your mind kept going back to two weeks ago, what had you done two weeks ago to warrant his distrust, what could you have changed to have changed his mind.

Just the thought made your heart ache and for a brief moment your anger had subsided.

“It would only be right to assume that Eunoia and Kimhae have their own plans to invade us. it would be within our best interest to strike first if that is the case.” Di Jin lifted his goblet before taking a long drink.

I'm just like that your anger had returned.

But before you could speak, your husband had beat you to it, anger evident in his voice as he spoke, “When we wrote the Rite of Peace, we promised Eunoia protection should someone ever threaten Invasion on them, they are honorable, if they desire to have their own protection let them have it, but do not sit at my table and claim loyalty to my family, and then proceed to disrespect my wife and her country in front of me.” 

Di Jin laughed, “You've got a lot to learn boy, love rarely saves anyone and the few bastards it does, life has a certain way of shortening their lives.”

“And men who disrespect women, tend to live even shorter lives.” Jungkook said, his voice having grown a little darker and expressionless, his fingers now drumming against the table as if aching to reach across it and wrap his knuckles around Di Jin’s neck.

“Regardless of Kimhae and Kyoto, I can only speak for my own nation, and I can swear this we are pacifists by nature, we do not desire for nor want bloodshed, but do not mistake our heritage, we do bite back should we be provoked, after all, history proves that.” You spoke, your voice calm, “Should we be treated fairly, you will only expect kindness in return, for that is who my people are, while I understand your caution, we created the Rite of Peace for its very name, to bring peace to the world and put these past grudges to rest. And I intend to keep it that way to the best of my ability.” 

“It seems you've all mistaken this dinner, we are here to gather and make merry not discuss politics,” Dae Seong looked much like his son, bored by the conversation, “We will not strike first, nor will we feed into their antics, after all this was the very reason I recalled the march to the East, there is no reason to wage war when our enemies have been defeated.”

You glanced around, noting the expressions on some of your friends' faces, it was evident just about nobody agreed with Dae Seong in one way or another, But nobody dared express how they felt, after all he was the king. 

The dinner had went on for the rest of the evening without much of a hiccup, granted it gave you a headache and you had found yourself sunk back into your chair the whole time, more than anything you wanted to get out of your seat and away from your husband, who had been staring at you with puppy eyes most of the evening.

Occasionally you'd watch his fingers twitch as if aching to reach out to you, to pull your chair closer, to brush your hair from your face, or to fix a piece of your dress that I've been wrinkled, but he knew better rather he kept his hand in his lap or against his cup, his sixth glass might you add.

In some ways you understood that this was perhaps unfair on your part, the more you thought about it the more you realized that you could have confided him and you had chosen not to, this was in some ways your fault as well but it did not take away the hurt you felt, that you felt you were closer than this.

But it seemed you both were wrong in many ways and you weren't certain of how to fix this, if you even wanted to fix this anymore, what you did know was that you were at a breaking point, you were uncertain of how much more you could take before you would break.

And every time you thought it couldn't get worse it without a doubt somehow got worse, but surely you would hit a plateau, your husband had lied to you, your servant was on trial for your attempted assassination, and you found out your home country was enlisting soldiers into a military, to say your life had fallen apart was an understatement.

Or at least that was how you felt.

You had been sat in bed, a book in hand though you hadn't read it all evening, and once again no matter how hard you tried to focus a book was just a book, and words were just words, you could read but the sentence just kept going over your head each time you read it, no matter how hard you tried, you just couldn't focus.

A knock at your door however had drew you from your thoughts causing you to stand up reluctantly before trudging over and opening the door

The person who stood before you was unshocking to you, after all it seemed since the unsavory reveal of his deeds your husband could hardly stay away from you, no matter how many times you would ask him to give you space, in fact he seem to be doing the opposite these days.

“I know you don’t wish to see me-”

You abruptly tried to shut the door but his arm caught against the door. 

“Y/n just listen to me,” Jungkook’s voice was weak, hair brushing over his eyes but the desperation in them was pathetic, “Let me talk, please.” 

“You’re drunk Jungkook,” Your teeth gritted but you didn’t try to force the door anymore, your hand still curled tight against the knob as you glared at him. He reeked of liquor and it was evident as his white shirt had a large inky red spill down the front that had been dried out, this was his sleep shirt which meant he hadn’t stopped drinking even after everyone had retired. 

Jungkook had one hand still flat against the door keeping it ajar and the other on the frame as he peered down at you, “I just wanted to see you, to tell you in my own words, I was complacent about your feelings, about my own. I have no excuses left, I have no words to defend myself, only my desire to be with you.”

You shook your head, trying to not let your heart twist further in pain, you wanted to look past this, to let it go, but how could you? Spying through letters was the first step, how could you know this wasn’t some elaborate plan all along to use you?

“It’s not that easy Jungkook,” You tried to contain the grief in your voice, guilt eating you up the more you thought of your own actions, “I should’ve trusted you more, confided in you about what I heard from Claudin, but I didn’t. I think it’s best if whatever this, does not continue.”

It was Jungkook’s turn to shake his head, his knuckles curling against the door, “We’ve both made mistakes. Forgive yourself Y/n and forgive me. Let me prove myself to you, let me earn your love.”

You roughly brushed the tears from your cheeks, “We were never meant to be together Jungkook, you know that just as well a I do-” 

You were cut off abruptly by his hand suddenly snaking through the small gap of the door,  wrapping around your waist and his lips immediately pressing into yours in a devouring hold, a surprised whimper escaped you at his iron hold increasingly becoming tighter on your waist. 

Your head was telling you one thing, but your heart was so desperately wanting another.

His other hand immediately snaked around your throat in a firm grip, not tight but not loose as you tried your best to not give into the temptation to melt into his hold but it was becoming more difficult when his tongue had pushed between your lips in determination. 

You broke, unable to resist the soft moan that escaped you as you felt your back push against the wall, arms wrapping around his neck before curling into his soft locks, giving them a soft yank as he moaned into your mouth,

You could taste the sweet wine still lingering on his lips, the unmistakable feeling curling into your stomach as you let yourself surrender to him for the briefest moment, and for the brief moment, everything felt better.

Two weeks ago…

The realization quickly followed after you and anger kindled in your veins once more, your hands had quickly slid to his shoulders to push back against him, “Jeon Jungkook!” You broke the kiss by turning your head with a hiss. 

Jungkook didn’t relent though his forehead pressing against yours as he heaved a breath, “What have you done to me? Some ancient dryad magick?” He gave a mirthless smile, “You are all I can ever think about from the moment I wake up to the moment I go to bed, seeing you cry makes me want to kill whatever is causing them, I’m drowning in you my sweet doe. I’m intoxicated and desperate so indulge me,”

“Tell me what I need to do to earn your forgiveness.” Jungkook ushered out, wet kissing being placed on your neck as the internal battle waged war in your head, one part of you wanting to immediately crumble but the other was indignant, this relationship surely would not end well.

At one time when you were younger, you would have laughed, after all you were married. But your eyes had been opened, things were never that simple, not when one was a Princess, marriage was contract, love was a luxury.

He broke away from you only a little, almost nose to nose with you and hair hanging over his eyes like a cloud, “I thought I knew love, I thought I knew many things before I met you,” His hands trembled as if the emotions were too powerful, “But it turns out I know nothing. Without you, I know nothing.”

“Jungkook…” You ushered out quietly, shaking your head as you tried to swallow down the hurt that began to bubble once more. 

“I feel like I’m being consumed by you,” Jungkook confessed, his hand squeezing your neck ever so slightly, his thumb rubbing softly along your windpipe, “It feels like you’re very being is sucking the soul from my body. And now that I’ve had you,” His voice broke only a little, his eyes like steel as he whispered a growl, “I would die without you.” 

“Jungkook!” You whispered out frantically at the sight of him letting you go only to kneel down on both knees. 

“Let me repeat my question; what do I have to do to earn your forgiveness?” Jungkook’s eyes burned with a bright intensity that nearly frightened you, his hand stroking up your thigh, “Is it Wheein? I’ll get her back for you. I’ll burn this entire fucking kingdom and rebuild it if I have too.” 

Was he hearing himself right now!?

You were panicked at his words and his actions, he had pushed his way into your room but the door was wide open, anybody could walk down this corridor and overhear him! “You can start by getting off the ground and going to bed!” You hissed out panickedly, flailing your hands to gesture him to stand, “And give me some time to think about it! Jungkook I…so much has happened I just need time! There’s no reason for you to say something so damning!” 

“I mean every word I’m saying.” Jungkook’s voice was serious, his eyes burning into you as he gazed up at you. 

It was silent for a long moment and Jungkook’s gaze did not lighten, hesitantly you lowered a hand down to his head, running your nails through his hair, it caused his lids to lower until they closed, his forehead resting against your thigh, hands still delicately trembling against your thighs.

“If you want my love so desperately, then give me time and space,” You whispered out, “You’re right, we’ve both made mistakes, and they can be forgiven, but forgiveness takes time that cannot be rushed.” 

“I can’t lose you.” Jungkook mumbled out, his weight slowly sinking into you. 

“You won’t.” Your words however went unheard as he slumped down, before collapsing to the ground, passed out. 

You stared down at him for a long moment before you sighed, “I’m sorry but you’re not spending the night here.” You stepped over him as you walked to the door, glancing around, the guard at your door must have been dismissed by him. 

You were in luck however as a pair of guards were at the end of the hall, walking quietly as they spoke, you flagged them down, requesting they find Taehyun and then have your guard returned to your door. 

Shortly Taehyun had arrived, the poor boy looking half asleep himself as he took in his Prince’s slumped figure on the ground, “He didn’t cause too many problems did he, Princess?” 

You shook your head, “No more than he usually does, I apologize for interrupting your night Taehyun, thank you for taking him back to his room.”

Taehyun offered a tired smile, “Of course your Highness, have a restful night.” He hauled Jungkook up with a groan, and briefly you wondered if Taehyun could even carry him, but he did manage to get him out the door and you supposed that was good enough.

Taking a shaky breath you sat back down in your bed, deciding you would be reading deep into the night, as you surely wouldn't be getting any rest regardless.

It was late morning and you had been eating out on the second floor terrace, the day was slightly warmer but still gray and cloudy, it made you depressed and you briefly wondered just how Penumbrian’s coped with it. 

But then again, they knew no different, for them, this was normal. 

You envied that.

“You mind if I join, Princess?” 

You twisted in your seat at the sight behind you, “Areum, of course, please have a seat.” You gestured to the empty table. 

You had been sitting out here alone, Yoongi on the inside as you wanted a moment to yourself but deep down you felt alone and you deeply missed Wheein’s company, each passing day made you more anxious, and the gap in your heart widen even more. 

Many questions filled your head, how would you set one trap to catch both Di Jin and Claudin in? You were not in a favorable position either way, Di Jin had a personal connection to the king and Dae Seong would need a damn good reason to believe you.

And you would have to be extra careful navigating Claudin as the Rosewood ties with the Jeon’s was already strained, one weak accusation and it could cause a civil war. 

“You seem so sullied these days Princess,” Areum commented as she sat next to you, promptly grabbing a plate and stacking it with rice cakes.

“I miss when I first arrived here,” You admitted, “Things weren’t complicated the way they are now.” 

“Perhaps,” Areum agreed, “But my, my, look how far you’ve come. I heard from your husband this morning. He looked dreadful.”

Your lips curled into a brief grimace at the memory, he looked rough last night, you couldn’t possibly imagine what he looked like when he woke up, no doubt hungover and upset. 

“What of it?” You felt slightly nervous, had someone overheard Jungkook’s over dramatic declaration last night?

“He asked me to take you to the Jeon Estate,” Areum smiled at your surprised and confused expression, “The estate was created for the royal family during the early days of Penumbra when the castle had yet to be built. It’s no longer used regularly, but occasionally we still hold family celebrations there for privacy. It’s deep in the woodland forest, past the Seer’s refuge.” 

“...May I ask why?” You frowned, uncertain of how to feel about this, there was so much at stake, how could Jungkook just expect you to leave…?

Areum smiled, “Something about wanting to allow you to have space and piece of mind. I understand your feelings Princess, I can’t imagine the weight you must be feeling right now, and I certainly wouldn’t blame you if you want to stay here at the castle.” 

Areum tapped her chin, “However I will say this much, the Estate has something primal to it, some may even call it magick. If you are seeking answers, there is no better place to meditate than there.” 

“I’ll think about it.” You nodded as you gazed out over the meadow in thought. 

Perhaps time away from the castle and Jungkook would serve you well.

[seikkoi]

ꜱᴜɢᴀʀ | dom!tony stark x sugarbaby!reader ( ᴄʀɪᴍᴇ!ᴀᴜ )

ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴛᴡᴏ [1, 3] | ʀᴇᴀᴅ ᴏɴ ᴀᴏ3

There was nothing that could keep Tony from having exactly what he wanted—and he deserved a little sweetness in his life. All he had to do was keep from ruining you in the process.

content/warnings: 18+ minors do not interact. non-canon, non-superhero au, sub/dom undertones, slight emotional/verbal manipulation, obsessive + possessive behavior, age gap (reader described as mid-twenties, t.s as mid-forties), mildly dubious consensual situations, explicit mentions of alcohol and drug use, generally not for the light of heart, rough sexual content, reader described as petite word count: 13k for parts 1+2 a/n: two weeks of brainrot later

L.A ended up as sun-kissed and vibrant as rumored, teeming with that felt like three times the people as New York. The plane ride went over smoothly, despite your nerves, although you can’t help criticizing Tony for his carbon footprint. You’re fortunate that the planning aspect is entirely in his hands, from the flight to the hotel. You knew what time to get ready and your destination, and that kept miles of stress away. 

Upon reaching the hotel, a grand stone structure adorned with decorative pillars, the potential arrangements for sleeping arrangements loomed over you. The forgotten vulnerability returned, and you walked beside Tony with uneasy legs, hoping your worry was unnecessary. 

To your relief, your accommodations are separate. You’re given peace of mind, chastising yourself for thinking the worst as you make the ascent in the elevator. Tony passes you cursory looks, reassuring you and assuming your nerves were travel-related.

In the hallway, Tony excuses himself to attend to some last-minute problems, apologizing and disappearing into his room. You followed suit, groaning against your wooden door as it creaked shut.

No matter how happy you were with Tony, the same thoughts resurfaced time and time again. The whispers in your head that told you the facade would melt away- warning of impending implosion. The memories of the look on his face weeks ago that brought you nearly to tears. To spare yourself the rabbit hole thinking about it would send you in, you decided to sleep it away. The event wasn’t until tomorrow anyway, and your body ached for rest.

You don’t wake till the sun’s long gone, hearing Tony’s knock at your door. A sleepy greeting slips from lips, clad in pajama shorts and tank top. Time and exhaustion fast-tracked your comfort around him, to the point that you don’t think to change when you answer. 

Even though you know he’s spent the night running computations and phone calls or whatever it is he does, he looks as refreshed as ever. His three piece suit diminished to just one in that time, leaving him in just a dark button-up and pants—the most unpolished version of Tony you've witnessed you’ve seen, an amusing sight that you commit to memory.

“Hey, sleeping beauty. What do you say to dinner?” His gaze seems to fall anywhere on your petite form but your face for a moment, leaning against the door frame.

“I think everything’s closed by now.” You yawn, already thinking about crawling back into bed. The rumble in your stomach could wait, right? 

Behind Tony’s back emerges a shiny bottle of whiskey accompanied by a plastic take-out bag.

“Good thing Cafe Stark is open 24 hours.” 

Eventually, you’ll have to build your resolve against his infectious smile, but when combined with the mouth-watering aroma wafting from the bag, the game feels rigged from the start.

You and Tony share a relatively silent meal for once, the small rosewood table in the corner of your room serving as a makeshift dining spot. Mostly because a thousand-year nap still sounded beneficial, speaking through heavy-lidded eyes. Tony, abnormally preoccupied, seldom sets his phone down for more than five minutes at a time. As usual, you don’t truly mind it. Without fail, though, that incessant voice comes back, telling you all sorts of theories. 

At some point as you're gathering the empty boxes to toss in the trash, Tony hums in approval before abandoning his phone on the dresser. Before you can ask, the whiskey is brandished by Tony. 

You can see past the sunny smile for a moment, catching a glint of worry on his face. 

“Everything okay?” The short glasses you bring over make a sharp clink on the aged wood.

Dark amber liquid fills his glass, sliding down his throat in one go. He chuckles at your question, finding it your concern sweet. 

“Don’t start worrying about me.” He halts the protest forming on your lips with a kiss, leaning across the table and taking your hands in his. 

It’s a potent amnestic, and you forget about all the alarm bells ringing in your ears. 

Drunken stories and laughter fill the room for the rest of the night. You both remark here and there that sleep would be wise, yet the hours tick on. 

A lull of silence falls between you after Tony finishes roaring at a joke you make about your roommate’s parents. In the hotel’s dim glow, Tony’s eyes look golden. You get lost in them for a time, lying beside him on the cotton sheets. 

A few strands of perfectly coiffed hair have fallen out of place, matching his recently wrinkled button-up. There’s never a time you aren’t totally smitten with him, but the whiskey twists into want easily. 

“Mind if I ask you something?” Tony looks down at you, leaning back against the headboard with warm and amused eyes. 

“Sure, shoot.” 

Anything to keep him looking at you like that. 

“Your parents, you never talk about them, why?” 

Anything but that. 

Truthfully, Tony already knew the answer. The first night after he ended up in the bar, he might have done a bit of a background check on you, mostly for his own safety. But also to see what leads a girl like you to a job like that. He wanted to hear it from you, though, and knew by now that nudging you in the right direction worked well enough.

“Not much to talk about really.” The bedsheet drags against your skin when you shift awkwardly. You’re used to this question, and the hate for it only grows with each recurrence.

“Is that so?” He mutters absently, reaching down to twist a strand of your hair between his fingers.

“They died when I was young. Car accident, not much of a story.” You break away from his heated gaze, choosing instead to lay your head against the pillows. At this point, you expect the usual pitiful platitudes people say, something along the lines of I’m so sorry or that’s awful . 

“I get it. Mine too. Not that young, though.” Tony adds sympathetically, sliding down onto his side next to you. He’s close enough that you smell the whiskey on his breath, tickling your nose.

“How old were you?” You can’t stop yourself from asking, as Tony seldom shared details about his family. You knew the business he ran was his father’s, and his mother’s name, and that was pretty much it. Most things he seemed to keep private, but you hoped the whiskey would help get you somewhere.

“Twenty-one, while I was in college.” There doesn’t seem to be any hesitancy in his answer, so you feel confident enough to push your luck.

“What were they like?”

“Eh, my father was kind-of an ass, wasn’t much of a loss to the world.” He says it too nonchalantly, throwing you off. You attribute it to the empty bottle.

“I don’t know if I should say sorry or congrats.” 

”Either works for me.” Tony laughs, resting an arm on your side. His thumb finds the small patch of exposed skin from your shirt riding up, grazing absentmindedly. It’s distracting as ever, pulling you away from the conversation to focus on his touch. 

“At least I had other people, sounds like you’ve just been alone.” He breaks you out of the daydreams you're lost in.

“Wasn’t terrible.” you respond gently, fiddling with a button on his shirt. 

“Still, you deserve better.” He watches your eyes drift to the small button, searching for his own resolve. It drove him nearly mad to see you in the exorbitant dresses he buys, but lately something about you dressed down, relaxed, nearly killed him. You look angelic next to him, staring through heavy eyes, clearly in your own little world.

“‘Think I’m doing just fine.” you laugh. 

“Hm, maybe.” 

He doesn’t disagree completely, but knew you were built for bigger things. A good chunk of his attraction came from knowing how hard you’d worked, a quality he recognized and respected.

Contrary to what news articles say, his intellect and success didn’t come naturally. It was deliberate, hard work to do what he did. Countless hours of studying, research, testing— all to try to mimic a fraction of what his father could do. Since he was a child, Tony was dead set on proving to his father that he could run Stark Industries. 

Yet, Howard was never persuaded, and planned on leaving the corporation to one of his lead engineers.

In the end, it didn’t matter anyways. He died before he could sign the paperwork.

Tony saw that same drive and ambition in you, you just needed a little help. And he would make sure it was his.

“Maybe?” you feign offense. The warm hand gracing your side loops to the small of your back.

“Think you just need someone to take care of you.” 

“I might be a little too old for that.”

“Not what I meant.” 

That pulls you away from his shirt for a moment, meeting his eyes with raised eyebrows. 

“What do you mean then?”

The meaning takes too long to dawn on you, and Tony’s resolve feels weaker than ever. Instead of answering you, he goes to kiss you, pulling you close with the hand on your back.

There’s no doubt in his mind that he shouldn’t do this, fearing an inability to be satisfied with just that. That voice is too quiet to pay any attention to, turning the kiss long and passionate. His teeth scrape against your lip, sighing into you when he feels your body relax. 

For the first time, he doesn’t wait for your reaction, pushing you onto your back. You feel his hand tighten around your thigh, wrapping your leg to his waist. You’re a worked up mess beneath him soon enough, grabbing at his side to pull him closer. His large biceps rests on either side of your head, fingers entangled in your hair. 

Shaky hands reach for the belt on his waist, only to cause Tony to pull away from you completely. He holds both your hands in his, equally dazed and panting. He appears lost in thought for a moment, and you start to worry you made the wrong move. 

You don’t have to worry for long, as Tony moves to the end of the bed, pulling you with him and kneeling before you quickly. Hungry lips on your bare thighs leave your head light, fingers already hooked around your shorts. 

“Tony, what are you-”

“Taking care of you.” he murmurs as they slip past your ankles. 

The hungry gaze washes over your center, catching your breath in your throat. You don’t get the chance to respond—a heavy tongue gracing your folds. Tony moans at the taste of you, reverberating up your spine. He hates that he made himself wait for this—every sound from your mouth worsening the strain in his pants. 

Your tensing legs are tossed haphazardly over his shoulders. You expected the same tenderness he always granted to you, but this is entirely different. He grips your hips rigidly, wrapping his lips around your clit and pulling you as close as he could. 

His ears focus on each moan, how the pitch in your whines heightened when he sucks hard on the aching bundle of nerves. A large, flat hand across your stomach gets you to lie back,  hands flying to the dark locks tickling your thighs. 

He’s obviously making up for a perceived loss of time, increasing intensity with every swipe of his tongue, your arousal coating his mouth. It sends your body into overdrive, hands reaching for him, searching for any kind of reprieve. 

Tony knows he’ll never get enough when your breath turns low and stuttery, fingers digging into the back of his nape and the hand bruising your hip. You lose sense of what sounds are coming from Tony and which are coming from the mess between your thighs, mixing into a symphony of ecstasy in your ears.

He unlocks a new melody, the addictive sound of your broken, pleading cries calling out his name. He wants to tell you how fucking incredible you sound, but that would require stopping and there’s no chance he was doing that. 

You try to tell him to slow down, the arousal in your stomach building faster than you have time to process. It’s a wasted effort, having any attempts at forming full sentences ruined by the tongue lapping at your entrance.

You feel an approving moan shake through your core, thighs growing stickier. He could feel how close you were, hips shuddering in his grasp. He only grips harder in response, holding you still as you jerk against his tongue. Without warning, the tight bundle in your gut reaches its crest, and Tony gets lost in the river of filth that leaves your mouth. 

You’re foolish for thinking he’d stop there, but instead his lips return to suck gently on your clit, moaning into you. Just when you think you might pass out from the overstimulation, he pulls away to grace your inner thigh with light kisses. 

Tony reclines, captivated by the dazed look on your face and the soft panting of your lips. 

You sit up to face him on unsteady arms, your hazy eyes revealing that there's only one thought on your mind— him , just how he needed it.

The earlier worries become ironically useless, as you sleep beside Tony that night. 

The next evening’s celebration unfolds on a quiet street, a hidden gem thankfully only hosting around twenty or thirty people. The ambient lights of the quaint club aren’t dim enough for you to ignore how underdressed you are. Envisioning a more formal dinner, you dressed simply in flowy olive dress, while other attendees exuded glamor in fancy suits. Tony of course being no exception, donning a dark gray suit and black shirt. Tony seemed unphased by the music and dancing, walking in and greeting people without pause. 

On this particular night, Tony has a singular mission — to keep you in his sight at all times. More accurately, to prevent you from engaging conversation with a select few individuals without his presence. It's not just about showcasing you; it's mostly protective, an attempt to mitigate the risks involved in intertwining you with this side of his life. 

Nearly anything seemed worth having you by his side. It’s a good weakness to have, he thinks. He swears it’s because you make him a better person, and though you always laugh it off and tell him he was already great, it’s another thing that gnaws at the back of your mind.

You're introduced to several of the guests, some names vaguely familiar, others entirely new. Natasha Romanoff stands out, her presence seeming to be the most grounded in reality. It becomes apparent that she is another member in this new endeavor of Tony’s. When you ask what she does for a living, she responds with business, and nothing more. Worse, when you ask about the other members, Natasha shoots a cautionary glance at Tony and smoothly redirects the conversation, leaving a sour taste in your mouth. 

For the most part afterwards, Tony’s mission is a success. He does his best to stay tethered to you, dodging boring conversation after boring conversation. Despite his vigilance, the forces of nature are ineffable, leading you to the bathroom after a few champagne shoots. 

He’d only looked away for one second , he swears, but all it took was a moment to lose track of you.

Upon your exit from the restroom, you decide to get ahead of your hangover. You catch the bartender’s attention at the bar instead of finding Tony. As you wait for the glass of water, your eyes scan the room to find him. Instead, a tall rugged blonde man takes over your view, sliding into the seat next to you. You pay him little mind, still scanning for Tony. Piercing blue eyes won’t leave you though, even as you thank the bartender and continue to search for the billionaire. 

“What’s a pretty young thing like you doing with an old bastard like Stark?” 

His words stop you in place, turning on your heel. 

“I’m sorry?”

The smirk on his face is cold, unnerving. You don’t recall meeting him earlier in the night, and you're certain you wouldn’t have forgotten. He shifts in the barstool, facing you as he sips from his glass before laughing dryly.

“Forgive me, you just don’t like the kind of girl Tony normally parades around. Unless merchants of death are your kind of thing. And you’re definitely not the escort type.” 

“Excuse me?” 

This only humors the man more, and worsens your thoughts.

“What,” he continues once he’s done laughing at the look on your face. “It’s a compliment, really. Tony’s girls normally overdo it with the makeup, it’s a dead giveaway—”

“No, what do you mean ‘merchant of death’?”

“Oh, come on, you—” he responds patronizingly, “Shoot, is this your first night? He might not have told you yet—”

“Told me what ?” You don’t have the energy to explain to this guy that you aren’t getting an hourly pay for this. 

There’s too much fun in it for him to drag this out, even though he knows his time alone with you is both costly and limited. He makes the decision to laugh again and down the rest of his glass before answering you. 

“Don’t tell me he picked a dumb one. At least Pepper had a brain between her ears?”

“Who’s Pepper?” 

The stars are aligning perfectly for him.

“His wife?” he fakes a puzzled expression, making you feel oblivious for not knowing. 

As you stand there shocked and confused, your eyes catch Tony walking steadfast towards the bar. 

“See, they do this thing, ‘fight, cheat, threaten divorce, make up, repeat’ cycle. It’s amusing most of the time, just shocked to see someone like you in it.” 

Across the room, Tony’s blood starts to boil. 

He’d caught the look you gave him, a confusion-ridden disgust that he couldn’t place until he saw who you were with. He left whatever suit was yapping his ear off, pushing through the small, crowded space. He can’t do anything but curse himself for being so careless—unfortunately, he’s not fast enough, watching Steve’s mouth open like a floodgate. 

“You’ve got to be kidding me, Rogers.” He speaks through gritted teeth, fists balled at his sides. He takes over the small space between you two, and over his shoulder you see the blonde man lean back in apparent satisfaction. There’s no point in asking what was said, Tony can guess well enough. 

“ What ?” Steve responds, a dramatic shrug of the shoulders follows.

Steve's cold smirk adds insult to injury, leaving Tony torn between the desire to break Steve's jaw and the fear of you never seeing him the same. 

The carefully, thoughtful plan he had for you is in disarray, thanks to Steve. You weren’t supposed to know about Pepper for another month, maximum. He planned on taking you to the gallery and telling you, but that chance was robbed from him.

It felt entirely unfair to him, having his dirty laundry thrown at you without any context. To prevent creating a bigger hole, though, he turns back to you. You’d spent the last minute wrapping your head around everything said. You felt almost physically sick, but mostly stupid for ignoring everything sooner. All that security you felt last night? Gone in a flash.

“You have to let me explain this—”

“I want to leave.”

Tony sighs, figuring it wasn’t the worst you could have said, but hates hearing the tone in your voice nonetheless. So, stubbornly and more than pissed, he leads you away from Rogers to the exit, and tries not to think about how you recoil away when his hand graces your back. 

He tries speaking to you in the car, to no avail. You're too busy beating yourself up for being so stupid. You had fallen for it, the charm, the gifts, the mystery— it worked brilliantly and earned you nothing but hurt in the end. Just like you feared it would. 

A second attempt in the elevator wins him no prizes either. 

There’s a third attempt brewing when you reach your floor. You had barely looked at him, and each time it felt like being stabbed. You didn’t see a point in talking about anything, making a beeline for your door. You imagined yourself packing, leaving in the morning and never seeing him again. Go back to the life you were supposed to be living, not this fantasy with him.

It’s not a plan of action you accept happily, and either way you don’t get the chance. The expectant sound of your hotel room door shutting behind you never comes, stopped by Tony’s leather shoe in the wooden frame. There wasn’t a chance in hell he was letting you shut him out. He could read your face the entire way back, seeing your full intent to leave without another word. 

“Just go away.” You want to sound angrier, but defeat is the only emotion you muster.

“You’re overreacting.” He declares, voice bouncing in the empty hall. 

“Really? Am I?” 

You’re shocked when the door is pushed open fully. The space you try to take back by stepping away is overtaken. Tony shuts the door behind him, harsh enough to make you jump a bit. 

“You are.” Tony’s hands disappear into his gray suit pockets, looking down at your alarmed frame.

“And you’re married.” Another step back, only for Tony to step forward again.

“Do you see a ring on my finger, hm?”

“That’s not the fucking point.” One more step back, in vain. The feeling of being trapped screams at you, but doesn’t move your body. “What else have you lied about?”

“I have never lied to you.” 

That seemed more believable than anything else. The small breadth of space you gain is taken once more. You don’t move again, knowing the wall wasn’t far behind you. It pissed you off even more to see his jaw clenched, staring at you as if you were having some tantrum and not rightfully upset. 

“Then who’s Pepper? How many other women are you toying with like little playthings? You’re an arrogant, asshole, liar -” you spat, letting your anger surpass his own. 

Tony moves closer, and you end up against the wall regardless of your efforts. You start to tell him off again, a rant cut short by a hand grasping your face, and another pining your wrist to the wall. Your heart quickens, squirming against him. 

“You’re starting to offend me, honey.” he says lowly, the warmth of his breath spreading across your face. His dark eyes don’t leave you, and you have a sense this is worse than throwing a drink in someone’s face. He was growing tired of this recurrent debate from you. Many adjectives could be used to describe him—arrogant, hot-headed, selfish, but disloyal wasn’t one— and he considered it a disrespectful thing to insinuate. 

“You,” he trails off, thumb shifting down to your throat. “—are the only one. Pepper and I have been done for a long time. Steve knows that.”

“Did she leave after she got tired of you sleeping around?”

‘ Did Steve care to mention how Pepper cheated first? How she threatened to sell me out if I left her? Of course not ’, Tony thinks.

More panicked, harsh words of doubt and inquiry leave you, but they’re quickly shushed by Tony. You know you shouldn’t but you feel a familiar guilt for the disapproval clouding his face. You don’t have the foresight to see that you were right for making them.

“You wanna call me a liar? What exactly have I been dishonest about, huh?” The question is clearly extremely rhetorical. 

“If you were just some ‘ plaything ’  to me,” he mocks, the hands on the side of your face tightening, electrifying your skin—not enough to hurt, just enough to keep your eyes on him.  “We wouldn’t be here, you should know that.”

“Then why keep it from me?” 

You don’t even know how to ask what Steve meant by ‘merchant of death’, and honestly, you don’t think it’s worth making things worse.  You hate that it’s this easy for him, hate the conflicting feelings—his touch melting your anger. It’s no help that you didn’t want any of it to be true anyway. 

“If I decide you don’t need to know something, you don’t. Simple as that.” 

In Tony’s mind, this was for your benefit in the long run, and he doesn’t see a need to explain that. You should just trust him, or atleast you did before Rogers’ opened his big fucking mouth. His anger is mostly placed with the blonde man, but he still expects better from you. He couldn’t have you believing others over him. You’d already expressed doubts about his loyalty before, and he spent a lot of time repairing that. 

Leave it to Blondie to ruin it all. 

To his dismay, you remain silent. He pictures the inner-workings of your mind, doubting everything he’s done to win your trust. The hand against your throat and arm keeping you in place might not be helping his case, but still they remain. He can’t fathom letting go, not if there’s even a slightest chance you’ll leave. 

“That’s applied to almost everything in your life so far.” There’s fear in poking the proverbial bear, yet you do it anyway. There’s too many thoughts battling in your mind, causing the words to nearly catch in your throat. 

“What is it you need to believe me—to know that you’re mine?” His voice shifts, remaining stern but turning heavier. He releases your arm, moving to grasp the green fabric at your side. 

There was obvious disdain between Tony and the man at the bar, giving you deniability to add to his claims. You started to think it was more likely he knew which buttons to push, to put you at odds with each other. Maybe you were getting entangled in corporate politics you didn’t understand without Tony. This was your mistake, just like before.

The words overheat in your mind, warming your skin and wreaking havoc on your thoughts.  Some tell you nothing would change it, that you wanted to give up on this. Others, louder, tell you anything would win you over, that you were looking for any reason not to. The mental gymnastics start anew, but end with the same conclusion. 

You want to chastise yourself for how willfully you fell back into his eyes, angry and want-ridden. The confidence you had earlier about leaving becomes a difficult feat to manage, overtaken by every screaming aspect of you that urges you to stay. Tony didn’t know it then, but he got what he wanted regardless of the wrench thrown by Steve— you, right in the palm of his hand. 

He expects a genuine answer, one you don’t have. So, in typical fashion, he decides for you. 

Tony considers it your fault for what he’s about to do, staring back at him with doe-eyes and flushed skin. Plans are built to be changed anyways—and he clearly needed to send a stronger message.

Without warning, you’re pulled by shoulder the short distance from the wall to the nearby chaise, resting in front of a high mirror.  You question Tony, to no reprieve, pushed forward onto your knees. In the reflection, you watch his arm snake around your body, returning a rough hand to your throat, bringing your back flush with his chest- his other hand tight on your hip.

“ Relax ,” he whispers against your ear, and chills run up your spine. 

“Tony-” you start, trying to twist in your position to look back at him. It’s a useless effort, large arms easily keeping you place.

“Eyes up,” he instructs, and your attention is directed forwards, meeting his eyes in the reflection. 

The olive dress is bunched to your waist, witnessing his hand teasingly graze along your thigh before disappearing under the cascading fabric. It stops there a moment, fingers dancing at the hem of your panties. Desire stirs in you with little prompting, Tony’s lips trailing down your neck nipping gently. 

“Don’t you see what I see—how pretty you look, doll?” he stays locked onto you, holding you steady when you jerk against his hand folding behind your underwear. Soft fingers draw slow circles on your clit, pulling a gasp from your mouth. “—why would I need anyone else.”

It’s pure filth, watching your own body react to every movement in the shadowy room, every bite against your heated neck. Tony’s quiet declarations only dampen your mind.

“You’re perfect, ” His voice drops lower, increasing his pace as the hand on your neck grows firm. “—just for me.” 

There’s static in the air, surrounding your limbs. The obscene picture in front of him sets every nerve on fire, watching your hands reach for his arm, watching you try so hard to not fall into the obscenity in your ear. 

Gravity is indiscriminate, so you fall nonetheless. The heavy fingers tease your wet entrance, only to retract and circle your clit before returning for more. It’s all soft and light, barely as much as you need. You turn desperate before you know it, focused on the flex of his bicep in the mirror with every stroke.

Unfortunately for you, this wasn’t really about pleasure. This was about trust. He needed that, for you to know how consumed he was by you. He’s certain you can feel his hard member pressing into the back of your thighs, a heated, heavy reminder that you were all he wanted. You must know— based on the wetness pooling in his hand and your eyes centered on him. 

“All mine .”

You cry out when a finger surpasses your entrance. You watch it be cut off by the hand at your throat, gripping harder to keep your noises at a minimum. There’s no resistance, wet and desperate enough to suck him in completely. The hand bruising your hip rocks you back onto his fingers. 

All those questions you had, about Pepper, his work, Steve—they’re gone. Disintegrated in the same heat that coils your stomach. Moving away from Tony’s sickeningly slow ministrations isn’t an option, trapped between his body and his tight hold. 

“I should put that rude little mouth to better use.” Tony whispers, free of any reason to hold himself back. You felt undervalued, fine. He’d see to it that’d never happen again. He’d let you hear just how badly he wanted you. He needed that same look in your eye from last night. The one that shined for him and only him.

He doesn’t take the stutter of your frame as a reason to slow down, only a reason to push you over the edge. The finger inside you is joined by a second, curving into you. The lace of panties is soaked through, a dark patch spreading to your thighs. You can’t focus on the mirror any longer, shutting your eyes tightly as you reach your peak—softly rushing through you as Tony’s praises flood into your ear. 

He doesn’t let go—large arms wrapping around you until your breath returns to normal. You open your eyes to meet Tony’s lustful eyes reflected back to you.

“Still having doubts?”

Tony’s patience was completely run through, the short fuse sparked to unrepairable levels. Again, he thinks it’s mostly your fault. He had no issue treating you like gold, but he only thought it right that you at least trusted him. 

You give a quick shake of the head, panting and watching the hands around you leave. You turn and sit in the chaise facing him, his jaw still clenched.

“Good.” he responds slowly. Eyes rake over you beneath him, with Tony imagining a hundred more ways to have you moaning his name. He finds the willpower not to act on them, instead turning for the door.

“You should rest.” He says before you can find the right words to say, door shutting behind him. 

Sleeping proves difficult—thoughts overwhelmed with Tony being a room away. There’s also Pepper and Steve floating around your mind, though never for long. Before you can give way to thinking about it, you inevitably end up catching a glimpse of the mirror in the corner—and everything Tony said plays in vivid sound. Then, an unbearable warmth pools in between your thighs, causing your thoughts to be consumed by him again. 

The frustrating cycle repeats for hours.

Finally, you decide you’ve had enough, leaving your suite and winding up in front of Tony’s door. He answers on the third tap of your fingers, clad in tight black briefs. You have enough clarity to keep your eyes from focusing on that, or the exposed sculpted chest. 

“Can I come in?” You feel pathetic for the way you ask, but it’s worth it, because he steps aside for you to enter.

You walk across the large room, sitting on the end of the unmade bed. Tony stays in the middle of the room, arms crossed in front of his body, waiting.

“You said I don’t need to know everything but,” you start, only growing more anxious when Tony raises an impatient eyebrow. “Pepper, what happened there? Why have I never heard of her before? At least tell me that.”

Tony sighs, contemplating if the distrust in your eye is worth possibly pushing you away for good. You’d see through any bullshit he tried to sell, not that he would make something up anyway. But, it’s for that reason that he knows he won’t get away with telling a half truth. He decides to take it as a sign that you’re still here, in his room, and that you still didn’t leave. 

“We were married, she cheated.” He decides to omit his own revenge cheating. He considered their relationship done at that point anyway, just took him too long to realize. 

“So, you’re divorced?”

“Not exactly, it’s complicated.” He sighs again. “But we are not together—in any capacity.”

You want to ask what exactly is complicated about signing a piece of paper, but you leave well enough alone. 

“Then why not tell me?”

“I wasn’t sure you’d stay if you knew. Couldn’t risk it.” It’s mostly true.

It comes out soft and heartfelt enough for you to believe it. Besides, so many parts of you didn’t want to be upset with him, for any reason. You didn’t have the will to end things, and you didn’t want to find it either. You stare at the floor, trying to process this new aspect of him. His shadow moves across the floor, coming before you to caress your face.

“You don’t need to worry, doll. “ Tony murmurs, trying to get that last little drop of doubt out of your mind. “You’ll always be mine, and I’ll always take care of you.”

part three

[soundspeachytome]

our future lives - shohei ohtani soft au

trope: childhood best friends to strangers

word count: 5.9k words

author notes: (this will be a bit long so if you want to jump straight to the fic, go right ahead!)

I wrote this in retrospect to the days i spent with my high school newspaper publication team. Recently,  an old friend and org mate from the school newspaper (who i have not spoken to in years) followed me on instagram and it took me down memory lane.

This was a time when a boy who (coincidentally enough, also played for a sports team) used to read drafts of my silly stories and poems of fictional heartbreak and would compliment my writing all the time. He was my best friend until he wasn’t.

This was when everything was awkward, confusing and unsettling; when I didn’t believe love could blossom beyond friendship. And when it was already right in front of me, I chose to run away.

With Shohei Ohtani as my current muse, I write this to close the what ifs our high school memories have left us. And when love finally visits us once again, instead of running away, maybe, just maybe, we’d be able to look at it straight in the face and say, "welcome, I hope you enjoy your stay."

Songs i listened to while writing: (repeatedly, repulsively, and obsessively)

Right where you left me - taylor swift (evermore)

Shouldn’t be - luke chiang

You are in love - taylor swift (1989)

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously.

==============================

I didn’t feel anything at first but when realization sank, I almost doubled over. A familiar feeling punctured somewhere on the middle of my chest, like a pounding, beating of a drum. While an economics faculty was waiting for me to check out her library card, she chatted animatedly with her colleague and I couldn’t help but eavesdrop. When the words “homecoming”, and “shohei ohtani” were mentioned in one sentence, I almost dropped the books on the professor’s feet.

“I couldn’t help but overhear your conversation… Did you say Shohei Ohtani is coming back…?” I croaked.

“Yes! It’s on the news everywhere. He’s attending his former school’s foundation anniversary as a baseball alum.” She hushed excitedly. She almost looked like she was blushing. 

“Professor, didn’t you graduate from Rosewood High School, too?” 

She and her friend looked at me expectantly, like I’m some sort of Bingo announcer about to shout their magic winning number. I nodded slowly, a small smile formed my lips.

“Wow! You and Shohei Ohtani were schoolmates, then! Were you in the same year?”

“Has he always been so tall?”

“Did he have any girlfriends back then?”

The pair of them launched their questions like an automatic rifle, I swung albeit defensively, and yet I couldn’t duck myself for cover in time.

I shrugged and quietly said, “I didn’t really know him that much, he was always just playing baseball, I guess.” 

Before they could respond, I pushed my thick-rimmed glasses back to the bridge of my nose and went back to my Excel spreadsheets. They said their thank yous and skipped their way out of the library. 

Finally, quiet again. 

Like every typical librarian, one glare from me could snap chatty visitors’ mouths at an instant. I reveled in the silence of my humble workplace, with shelves taller than any average person, filled with books old and new. I could spend hours in the silence, tapping on my computer archives, or shelving books from the returned pile. This is the job of my dreams. Customary, routine, familiar, comfort zone.  

I realized that I have been tapping the letter Y key from the keyboard, lost in thought. I couldn’t believe the words I heard earlier could ever be strung in one sentence, not even in my wildest dreams. I tapped my legs restlessly. It couldn’t be true, could it?

How many popular Shohei Ohtanis could make girls this flustered?

There’s a one-hundred one percent chance that the result is, well, one. 

To preserve my peace of mind, I decided to google him, and when the results showed the rumor to be true, I almost spiraled in my seat. 

Did you know Shohei Ohtani in high school? The words from the two professors rang in my head. 

I knew damn well who Shohei Ohtani is.

Shohei and I have been friends since the day we learned how to talk. We lived on the same block, sat together in class, shared snacks during recess, we’d bicker loudly and fight like the worst of all enemies. According to our mothers, when he pulled my hair after I had claimed his Spiderman lego toy,  I screamed so loud it could be heard two houses down the block. He felt so guilty about it and rushed to peck me on the cheeks so I’d stop bawling. Not sure how accurate our mothers’ anecdotes are, if they had been exaggerated or not, but they said, after that fight, little Shohei had treated the little me sweeter after that. 

On good days, we played swings in the playground. We walked home together and would visit each other’s houses to play board games and Bomberman until it was no longer comfortable to stay in each other’s bedrooms without getting weird ideas.

Upon reaching puberty, I had grown in breast size, started getting my periods and hormonal mood swings while Shohei had grown a foot taller and his shoulders stretched widely. He lost his baby fat and developed muscle definition after playing sports. It was a time in our lives when it was officially awkward to hold hands while crossing the street, or for him to playfully grab me by the neck. If we did, we would get notes from the schoolmaster for indecency.

It wasn’t only the skinship that changed. Shohei grew to be more popular with the girls when he performed well in high school baseball. He was tall, fit, respectful and most importantly, he had a kind smile that would make your heart do a tap dance. And so my heart wore dancing shoes everyday.

While Shohei was busy playing his ball games, I joined the school paper as a news writer. The club meetings took up most of my afternoons then when i used to spend it by waiting for Shohei. By the time he finished practice, I would still be in the school library, either my face buried in a stack of books, or fingers furiously tapping an article on my laptop.

“You can go first. I don’t think I can go home yet, not unless this article writes itself.” I said one afternoon, not looking up. I was preparing an article for the school sports festival, where Shohei was the third-year representative and captain. I heard him walk up to me and braced myself. Tap tap tap.

He set his gym bag and batting equipment on the table and sat on the chair beside me.

“I’ll wait.” He said calmly. He crossed his arms over the table and closed his eyes, as if to sleep. He sat there in silence, baking in the sounds of my keyboard smashing my unnerving thoughts and emotions. 

Suffice to say, I didn’t get anything done after that. The smell of soap and cologne crept up to my nose and his broad shoulders lightly touched mine. Him sitting so innocently with his head on the table was enough of a distraction. It also didn’t help that on my periphery, I knew that he was facing my direction. In the next three minutes or so, I allowed myself to stare at his face: bags under his eyes were slowly showing, his well-defined nose, his mouth slightly agape, with evidence of picking and biting the lower lip skin.

When he startled awake, I scrambled to close the laptop monitor so loudly I thought I had cracked the screen. Embarrassed and face probably beet red, I stood up to leave. He carried all of my bags that day. When I offered to carry his gym bag, he refused.

In the last few weeks of that semester, I had become interim editor-in-chief. Shohei’s games had ended and our deadline for the year-end publication drew nearer. That meant I had made the library my second home like a bridge troll, only allowing brief, important conversations. My entire table was covered with mock newspaper clippings, sample layouts, glue, stacks and stacks of drafts that went through multiple, desperate, bloody revisions. This and the rest of my academic subjects I balanced gingerly on a thin line. Shohei would continue to visit and wait by the other corner of the library, pretending to read mystery thriller books he picked from the shelves. Most of the time, he slept. I never saw him study, even in the library. He didn’t need to as he aces all his subjects while hitting home runs on the field. I always suspected that he astral projects in his sleep and studies inside the realm of dreams. That’s probably why no matter how much he slept, he was still constantly tired. 

In other words, Shohei always seemed like he never had to try. He was good at everything. And I always had to work hard just to be able to stand on the same playing field as he is, at least once or twice. 

One particular day, when afternoon classes were canceled to give way to the club meetings, I was in my usual spot in the library with Zumi, our layout artist and a third-year from class B. We were finalizing the layout design before submitting it to the publishing house. Shohei was in baseball practice and had been MIA from the library all week.

A group of girls suddenly filled the library.

“He’s not here!” I heard one of them say. They noticed Zumi and I chatting quietly in the corner. 

“Hey, you’re Y/N right?” A girl with jet black hair siad. Her skin was white as porcelain. She had retainers on, the ones that looked unfairly pretty on lucky pretty girls.

I nodded.

“Are you Ohtani’s girlfriend?”

“Excuse me?” I blurted out, eyes almost popping out of my eye sockets.

She chuckled. “Right? I couldn’t believe it myself too. I know Ohtani only sees you as his best friend.”

I couldn’t respond right away. It was true but why did it sting so much?

“But they’re always together, I saw her give him a lunchbox during breaks.” A petite girl with a wolf haircut emerged from the sides. She had her arms crossed and an eyebrow raised. 

The rest of the group murmured in unison.

“Our mothers are close friends, so it was natural for us to grow up being friends, too.” I said irritably. Not only was this irrelevant but it was so annoying that a bunch of girls would question her decade-long friendship. 

“I don’t have to spell out the dynamics of our friendship to you.”

“If that bothers you so much, why don’t you personally tell Ohtani’s mother to stop asking me to bring his lunch boxes for him.”

It was quiet for a few seconds. I was afraid that it would escalate into a screaming match or a brawl that could result in us being kicked out–or worse, banned–from the library. The herd of girls glared at me and I glared right back. 

“Um, a-as you can see, he is not here.” Zumi breaks the silence, clearly intimidated but she soldiers on. “And you’re disrupting our meeting.” 

The first girl gives me a pointed look and spins on her heel and the rest follows. 

Zumi sighed in relief. “Oh my god, Y/N, I thought I would experience my first visit to the schoolmaster’s office before graduation.” She rubbed her sweaty palms together. 

I stifled a giggle, anger fading. Zumi’s gentle personality softened me right away. I couldn’t help but smile at her. 

“Don’t worry, Zumi, we don’t start fights but we sure as hell can end them.”

Shohei and I met less and less after that. I had purposely avoided him as much as I could because I still felt upset and he didn’t even have a vague idea about other girls spreading rumors about us. Another reason was I didn’t want to be referred to as “Shohei’s female best friend” anymore. His growing popularity in school made me only slink back down to the pits of the social hierarchy. 

I also wanted to take some time away and contemplate my feelings about our friendship. He’s only a friend I grew up with. We shared meals together and walked home together. He would hug me when I’m upset and I would console him when his anger skyrocketed. These are common best friend behaviors, right? So why else would it suddenly change? Why don’t we ever stay like this forever?

Weeks after my so-called Shohei blackout, I was left alone to clear the table I had claimed in the far corner of the library when Shohei popped in to visit.

The school year had finally come to a close, exams and ball games concluded, and the year-end paper was now distributed to everyone on campus: Shohei’s team pictured on the front page headline, declared as the year’s champions in inter-high school level.

He had a copy of the newspaper in his hand, grinning.

“Nice article, Y/N.” 

“Is it nice because it had your winning face covering the entire spread?” 

“I mean, you finally got an article on the front page!” He was waving the paper to you, pointing at the byline, as if you’ve never seen the layout more than a hundred times already. “Written by– your name! How cool is that!”

“My name is in a tiny font under your 32 font-size on the headline. I promise you, it’s not a big deal.”

“It is for me, though. I read it word for word. I loved it. You’re so good at words, Y/N” his eyes crinkled at the sides and I waved him off, blushing. 

“I’ve seen enough of this newspaper, I think I’m going to be nauseous.” you faked a retching sound.

“I’ve started seeing that damn thing in my dreams, Sho.” You grimaced. “Please hide that from me. Or I will rip it into shreds.”

Shohei giggled boisterously. You immediately swiped your hands over his mouth.

“Sshh! The librarian will hear you!” You looked around nervously, relaxing after realizing the librarian was nowhere in sight. “I don’t want to get kicked out on our last day of school.”

He held your arms away and uncovered his mouth from your hands. “Seriously, though, I’m proud of you. You worked so hard for this all semester.”

“Well, the subject was interesting to write about.” 

“Is that right?” he smiled, mischief glinted in his eyes. 

“”Rosewood’s revival after years of being dormant in high school baseball” was a pretty cool angle to write.” I said. And it truly was. The moment I saw the efforts and hardwork of Shohei and his inspiring leadership setting a momentum into the games, I knew right away that I had to call dibs on the story. 

“Uh-huh.” He was just looking at me, hands still wrapped around my arms, locking me in place. 

“It was a story worthy to tell and I just happened to tell the story. It all just–” I tried to mash my hands together, demonstrating the words synonymous to merging, fusing, blending. 

He pulls me close and rests his hand at the back of my neck. I could feel the snug of his embrace melting me into a puddle. He hesitates but leans in. It was soft, abrupt and merely testing the waters. He pulled back slightly to look at my reaction. I didn’t know what I looked like, but what I did know at that moment, my heart bounced uncontrollably like a basketball. I swear I thought it would burst my chest open. 

When I didn’t react or push him back, he leaned in for another try, this time, with more intent, meaning, and weight on my lips. When we parted, he looked away sheepishly that all I had to do in response to the kiss was to pull him in a tight hug. We stayed like that for a few more minutes because neither of us knew when to let go, or even wanted to. We just stood there relishing our newfound warmth while concealed in between the quiet and that precious corner space that held us. I don’t know how to define this feeling yet… but I could get used to this.  

Nothing further ever happened after that sweet library moment because the next day, we received news that Shohei Ohtani was granted a full scholarship overseas. Thanks to his impressive performance during the last game. Ohtani joked that it was mainly because my frontpage piece was so well-written, it moved the university scouts’ ice-cold hearts to tears.

“You’d be an idiot not to go.”  I was at the kitchen counter of our home, setting the newly baked chocolate chip cookies out of the oven to cool down. It was a Saturday morning and Shohei visited, like any other day. 

“I’d be alone, though.” he was wistfully eyeing the cookies on the wire rack. “I’m scared I might fail and be a disappointment to my dad.”

His arm slowly reached for the cookies but I immediately swatted him away.

“It’s still hot, dumbass.” I gave him the bowl where the cookie dough was originally mixed. He dutifully scooped the remains and popped a finger in his mouth, he grinned, satisfied. 

“You won’t be alone because everybody likes you. And you won’t be a disappointment because you work twice as hard than everyone else. You’re Shohei Ohtani, for god’s sake.”

He doubted but I knew what he was thinking because I was trying not to think about it, too. If this was about the kiss, we can let it go. We can forget about it. It was just a kiss, this was our future and it shined brightly in front of him. It would make me a selfish person to try and block that from him.

“There won’t be a Y/N there, though.” he said, eyes trained to the cookie dough he held. “My best friend won’t be there.”

“I’ll be right here when you come back. Besides, we can always email each other, like we always did in computer class.”

I didn’t tell him this but it also broke my heart to say those words. I will definitely miss him, sure. He’s been a constant presence in my life that once he leaves, it would definitely leave a big hole in my life. 

I wanted to tell him that whatever happened in the library that day will always be etched in my memory as long as I lived, that I wanted it as much as he did, and it hurt to say goodbye to a possibility, to something that had barely even started. If I had told him that, he would’ve turned down the offer right away.

So I didn’t, and so he left. 

Ohtani and I would email constantly during our very first year in uni. He would send me pictures of the new places he visited, food he tasted, with little descriptions every now and then. You knew he was trying to include me in his new life as much as he could. In return, I showed him how I continued my simple, quiet life, how I met new friends at uni, how I ate at new hole-in-the-wall restaurants with the promise that we’d try them out when he returned back home.

Of course that didn’t last very long as life apparently came in between us. Long training hours for Shohei, and newer opportunities showed up in my doorstep as I got a partial scholarship and part-time job as a student assistant.

It went on like that for a very long time as we kept missing each other’s emails. I would already be asleep when he sends his messages and he’d be out in the field by the time I could reply. Sometimes I don’t receive anything at all at weeks’ a time.

One day, after two weeks of radio silence, I heard a girl in the washroom gush about Ohtani’s popularity overseas and how he has gotten a girlfriend. They were pretty serious, she would go on to say. She had long black hair with a pretty slender body, something like his type. 

I stood there, hands dripping wet, listening to something I normally wouldn’t believe unless he confirmed it himself. The thing is, I haven’t heard from him in weeks, so I didn’t have a choice but to believe in the words from the grapevine.

I stopped waiting for his emails to come. If he sent me new ones, I didn’t check. I busied myself in the halls of the library studying, reading and writing, writing and writing my feelings away.

I wrote until my hands got tired, until I spilled everything I needed to forget into paper. Until I welcomed a new love into my life. He was also tall, kind, and cheerful. He respected my time and he loved going to new coffee shops with me. At that point, I was overfilled with joy and contentment that I barely thought about Shohei anymore. In the back of my mind, the chapter of Shohei Ohtani is now closed and my rosy high school life became a beloved, worn out book that I no longer revisited.

Later I learned in life that some things, despite making you undoubtedly happy, could still end horribly.

My relationships turned sour, some of my friendships fell out, but the worst part of it all was when my dad had a heart attack. 

He died six months later. 

It was pretty much autopilot after that. I could only ever handle so much, I don’t think I am as brave as Joan D’arc to handle ten, twenty more scars. Not when two of the best people I loved have left my life. Not when the person I want to run the most to is… no longer there to meet me. 

I was a student intern at the archives section when the post for head librarian was vacated. I’ve already applied to multiple companies in the private and public sectors and kept getting waitlisted but the university hired me on the spot. A week after graduation, I had started my full-time job at the library, and it felt like I was somehow glued back together.

XXX

The cans of beer clinked together as I swayed the black plastic on my way home from the convenience store. Nothing beats a cold can of beer after a full meal. Also because “Shohei Ohtani” is a name I never thought I’d hear again in this lifetime. So much so, that a homecoming sounded so ridiculous that if someone ever suggested that idea to me before today, I would have laughed at their faces. It was an appropriate time to wallow in my drunken thoughts.

Four years was a long time for anyone to change. It was long enough to switch jobs, get promoted, to save up money and travel, to save up money and get married and have kids, or none at all, to study for a new degree, to meet new people and develop romantic feelings for them, to lose such romantic feelings, to forgive and move on, to develop new habits, and it is also long enough for character development if you think your personality needed an overhaul. Four years was a long time apart, a long time to forget each other to even be considered taboo. And yet. 

And yet. 

XXX

My phone buzzed against my jeans pocket. It was a text from Zumi. She now works freelance and designs her own stationery and stickers sold at mega discount stores all over the country.

“You wouldn’t believe what I just heard.” Zumi texted. Even before she could conjure a follow-up text, I responded right away.

Y/N: “Someone’s coming back to town?...”

Zumi: “WUT.”

Zumi: “U KNEW? AND DIDN'T TELL ME #betrayal”

Y/N: “I heard about it a couple of days ago and blacked out after 3 cans of beer. Sorry, Joomi-chan.”

Y/N: “I didn’t drink only because of the news, though. I ate almost 2 KGs of wagyu, too. It was the perfect drink to end the day.”

Y/N: “I ate ice cream, too."

Y/N: “I’m rambling. I”ve been restless since I heard about it.”

Y/N: “I’ll be okay, though. I always have been.”

I was about to put my phone down after the text blasts I sent to assure her when text bubbles appeared. Typing. I waited.

Zumi: “It’s alright to admit you’re not okay about this, Y/N”

Zumi: “He was a big part of your life, who ghosted you, asshole move btw, and his head’s probably gotten too big for his own good. I wonder how he walks around with that swollen head without toppling over.

Zumi: “Also, I’m only saying all of this because my role as Y/N’s only best friend is currently being threatened. I forgive you though!”

I had to laugh. Zumi was always fond of Ohtani and I even back in high school. Whenever she had time, she would join us on our katsu curry runs and hated matcha, while Ohtani and I loved it. She always preferred strawberry. She was the perfect balance in our little trio. And now, she is my voice of reason.

I paused to reread the text. Am I really okay about this? It’s a fairly small town, the chances of running into him are slim, but never zero. And what if I do meet him by chance, what should I do?

Zumi: “Text me when you feel like drinking again. I’ll sneak out and join you in solidarity!” 

Before I could send the cutest peach butt sticker to Zumi, a message from an unregistered number popped up on my notifications.

“Hi, Y/N. It’s Shohei Ohtani. I got your number from your mom. I’m sorry for being abrupt like this but I just flew back from the States and will be spending a few days at home.

Do you want to meet up for some curry katsu for old time's sake?”

Holy hell, I stared at the messages in disbelief. Am I being punked right now? Where is the hidden camera? If the universe is listening right now, please, swallow me whole into the earth right now. 

I clenched the phone hard, against my chest. You are better now. Don’t fumble. 

Tap tap tap.

XXX

I don’t know what had gotten into my head that when I responded a few hours later, had agreed to meet up after work for curry and drinks. Future me would like to smack past me of five hours ago for making a decision like this. 

But here I am now, just a few stores away from the curry place I had suggested for dinner. 

Suddenly feeling conscious, I stopped by a convenience store that had a convex mirror on top of the corner shelves. I swiped lipstick on my lips and powdered my nose. I also bought mints just to play for time. I worked up the courage to text Zumi.

Y/N: So, please tell me I’m doing the wrong thing and I will turn back.

Zumi: What happened?

Y/N: After we texted earlier, Shohei texted me out of the blue and that he’s already in the town.

Zumi: He WHAT???

Zumi: Are you telling me he asked to meet up and you said yes?

Y/N: You should switch careers and be a fortune teller instead.

Zumi: You WHAT???

Y/N: Pls, pls, pls tell me I’m wrong for doing this.

She didn’t respond right away. Her text bubbles went up and down infrequently. I stood outside of the restaurant, in the cold of the night waiting for her response.

Zumi: How do YOU feel about it?

Zumi: If I were you, I, who have witnessed all the carnage all these years, I would do it. I know if you turn your back now, you’d spend another four, five years wondering what would’ve happened if you chose differently. 

Zumi: Don’t try to rationalize it, Y/N. You’re panicking now. But I know in your heart, you want answers. You want this. So suck it up and be a big gworl! 

She resonated exactly how I felt about this. So why was I hesitating?

I walked up to the restaurant and scanned the room. It was almost empty after dinner hours, except for a few white collar workers catching up on late night meals.

And then I saw him. He sat at the back of the room, his back facing the front of the shop. I could recognize those wide shoulders anywhere in a heartbeat. I made a beeline towards him.

He wore a blue polo buttoned up to his chest, creasing at the shoulders as he slouched forward. He looked absolutely different from the memory of the boy who used to carry my bags. His hair grew into thick waves and his cheeks and jawline was chiseled and defined to the bone, revealing more of his handsome face.

He stood up, smiling widely and threw his hands around me, a whiff of his sandalwood perfume and the feel of his hair pressed to my cheek brought everything back: spending lazy days in the library, the night strolls on the way home from school, sharing twin popsicle ice creams, the warmth of his hands intertwined with mine, that last first kiss. I pulled away and he gestured to me to sit down. As we both sat down, I thought, You are always finding ways to get my hopes up. 

We stared at each as I settled down on my seat. For a few moments, I felt the room was charged with cold air. His eyes traced my face making me more and more self-conscious, I had to break the ice. 

“The chicken curry katsu is good here, you know.” I said, as a waiter approached and served us water. “But if you prefer pork, it’s heaven too.”

I sipped the cold water nervously and fidgeted the hem of my plaid skirt. 

“It’s been a while.” I started.

“I’ve been busy.” He started to explain. I hate how he thinks this was his decision, how he didn’t even consider the fact that I’ve been busy, too. “How about you? I’ve stopped hearing about you since…”

“Things happened.” I simplified, but really, I wanted to give him a rundown of how things have more or less worked out okay for me–how I am doing well at my job, taking my Masters, thinking about traveling to Southeast Asia with Zumi, spending time with family on weekends, trying to do pilates at least thrice a month, and catching up with some old friends whenever we got to clear our schedules. How I am, despite his absence, was not entirely miserable. But I don’t want him to think that I am just doing this to prove a point, so I coated a response with the standard, “But I’ve been fine, thanks. How are you?”

“Same old, I’m here for business and something else. I finally got the courage to tell you this now.” He said, finishing up the last of his meal and downing his glass of water before speaking again.

I honestly don’t want to know, I want to order another glass of beer and fall asleep drunk. I want to crawl into my bed and waddle in self-pity at how I’ve spiraled back to square one, of how after all these years, I am still hopelessly in love with this unattainable man, who thinks we are still each other’s best friends after years of no contact. Instead I responded cautiously, “What is it?”

He inched forward and leaned his face on his right hand. “There’s this girl.”

I held my breath and braced myself for impact. 

“There’s this girl. We almost always never stood on the same foot. She hated sports and hated standing in the sun to see me play, but watched regardless because she had to write an article about it.

“When we finally started realizing we liked each other, I received my scholarship grant and moved overseas. If she got mad about me going MIA, I could've explained better to her that I had an accident during Spring training and was in a hospital bed for almost a month. Had she checked her emails, she would know. But she never replied. Ever.

“After a few months, I heard from our friends that she finally got a boyfriend and was in a happy, healthy relationship. I thought, ‘Oh. Good for her! I'm happy for her. Someone near to take care of her.’ but was I really, though? I got myself a girlfriend, too and forgot about this girl for a while.

“But I heard about her dad’s passing and I tried to reach her but I couldn’t. Her home phone number was disconnected, my mom said they moved out of the block and she still won’t respond to my emails.

“I couldn’t be there for her but I thought, “she'd be with her boyfriend. She’ll have someone to lean on. But then her friends said they had broken up long before the incident. She carried all those baggage all by herself? Who did she have to lean on? Was she eating okay? Was she sleeping well? Does she still smile when she watches puppies run around bumping into things?

“It seemed like the timing was never on our side. She was available when I wasn’t, I was free on the days that she was occupied. 

“I’ve always wondered if the universe played some practical joke on the two of us. If somehow, they'd ever allow me the chance to meet her again. I’ve been waiting for her for a long time now.

“Y/N, do you think if I ask her now, she’d finally be as ready as I am to meet her?”

I exhaled and felt my heart pounding. There is the thrum in my chest that felt all too familiar. Have we been missing each other’s chances all this time? Have I been getting on and off the wrong platform, just as much as he did, because we didn’t know what we wanted when we were barely twenty?

“I think you should ask her before it’s too late.” I said, catching myself, still staying on that third person narration. I mulled over the times we constantly missed each other like he had pointed out. He had been there for me when I was searching for myself and what I wanted to do, and I had watched him from afar when he was trying to meet his dreams, to the point of pushing him far away. 

“I’m asking you now. I was always late, wasn’t I?”

His brown eyes bored into mine, expectant, hopeful. “Yes. You were...but you’re here now..." I trailed off, thinking how much shock I was to hear Shohei's speech. I wondered if responding to my real feelings was the right thing to do. He had his accident, my dad's funeral, the miscommunication between us. The sudden falling out. I wondered, if after all this time, someone like me would still be worth restarting over with.

"...and I think, you’re just in time, Sho.” 

He smiled widely, showing the crinkles on the sides of his eyes, he exhaled as if he had been holding his breath all this time.

"Thank god. I was almost certain you'd say no and disappear on me again." he laughed.

Freckles that I've never seen before popped over his nose and cheeks. So much has changed in his appearance but it was the same smile of the boy I love since eighteen.

“I’m home,” he whispers.

“Welcome back,” I said, finally smiling at him, too.

Shohei stands up and offers his hand as we exit the restaurant; I take it and interlace our fingers. For the first time in a long time, the tap dancing of my calloused heart has returned ever so exhilarating, like a lost pulse bringing me back to life. We are catching up on lost time, and for whatever fragment of memory that may have escaped through the cracks, we’ll slowly string them together. It doesn’t matter how many possibilities we’ve missed in the last four years of being apart. The important thing is this possibility, the right here and right now.

[scuttlingcrab]

The Great Hunt

In Search of a Hammer

I recently discovered some rare dialogue where Raphael returns the Orphic Hammer to Tav if they “misplaced it.” Hilarious and perfect. Naturally, I had to write about Raphael finding out about Tav’s incompetence and jumping through hoops to return it to them before the last battle.

Summary: Raphael learns from Korrilla that Tav foolishly sold the Orphic Hammer in an attempt to earn some last minute gold. Raphael hunts down the Hammer before his dreams are destroyed forever.

Notes: This will be in 3 parts! Part 2 is now here: An Absolute Waste of Time. Part 3 is coming soon! 🥰

Link to my other work in the Devil's Archive.

(Image via keylana-dragon)

Rat-tat-tat. Rat-tat-tat. 

The gentle rapping on the door of the Devil’s Den was enough to disturb Raphael, to pull him from his current train of thought. He pursed his lips, letting out a stream of hot air from his scrunched nose like a vexed dragon. There was only one who knocked in such an irritating, irregular rhythm; always with a slight air of caution, as if they were already apologising for the sin they’ve yet to commit. Why must these damned creatures insist on such blatant trepidation in his presence? With all the interruptions as of late, he would’ve preferred at least a shred of authority with their actions.

“What is it this time, Korrilla?” Raphael snapped, slowly closing the diary he had been scribbling in. “You are becoming more irksome than a gaggle of babbling children.”

There was a long pause before the door to his suite creaked open, allowing in the sounds of rushed, heavy footsteps. The atmosphere in the room immediately shifted as Korrilla waited behind Raphael, his skin prickling as he sensed the tides turning. 

In all the years of service to Raphael, Korrilla only entered the room in such an undignified manner when there was a problem. The last time she barged into his quarters, disrupting a rendezvous with a client that had been years in the making; she announced that the Crown of Karsus had been stolen from Mephistopheles’ vault. 

Raphael interlaced his fingers atop the rosewood desk, squeezing his hands together as he waited for what felt like aeons for Korrilla to give her explanation. 

“Speak!” He barked, his words violently cutting through the silence. “You of all creatures should know that time is of the essence.” 

Korrilla coughed in surprise at the sudden outburst, nervously clearing her throat as she took a step forward. 

“Right, I uh. Well, see… You’re not going to like this…”

“Do not tell me my dear father has finally decided to pay me a visit?”

“Well… no, it’s not that bad, but…” She hesitated, her voice quivering. 

Raphael straightened his back, twisting like an owl so he could glare at Korrilla. She winced at the action, as if he had struck her.

“I’m afraid that, um… that little mouse, your favourite client? They’ve sold the Orphic Hammer.”

“They did what?!” 

“Needed the coin apparently. I tried to stop them, even went to the s–”

Raphael slowly turned away from Korrilla, loosening his hands. He placed his palms on the desk, digging his nails into the rosewood. The tips of his fingers glowed red as the piece of furniture burst into flames.

––

Mamzell Amira stood behind her counter near the entrance of Sharess’ Caress, leaning against a small bookshelf. She had her arms crossed, squeezing them just enough against her chest to show a healthy amount of cleavage. 

Her prized house of pleasure was bustling, the busiest it had been in years, and all thanks to Lord Gortash’s recent coronation. She could just about hear the sound of gold ringing in the pockets of lustful customers as they crammed into her establishment, wanting a taste of what Sharess’ Caress had to offer. Her accounts would indeed be plentiful after that day alone, helping her relieve a few more debts that had been stacking up as of late. 

Mamzell’s gaze drifted back to the young half-elf in front of her, who could still not meet her eyes without blushing. She had been stuck in a conversation with him for the last hour, trying to coax him out of that shiny shell of his. The boy had a handsome face and dark eyes that told her a different story, one of a raging beast lurking beneath the surface of that sheepish disposition. He had a lot of potential and she knew the perfect pairing for him…

Out of nowhere the entire building shook frantically, as if the walls trembled in fear. The room became silent as everyone waited for the tremors to end, but they only got worse. Another earthquake? And so soon? But no… deep shouts reverberated through the ceiling, getting louder and louder, causing the windows to shatter and the lights to flicker sporadically. She could just about recognise that voice… No matter, whoever that was, they better leave a generous tip. 

“As I was saying, sweetling; my expertly trained courtesans can elicit all sorts of reactions from lucky patrons...” 

—— 

The Devil’s Den was ablaze. The wooden ceiling groaned as it continued to warp from the blistering heat. Thick flames consumed everything as it moved across the suite, making its way towards Korrilla.

Korrilla crawled in the direction of the door, desperately trying to escape the inferno. Raphael stood in the centre of the room, hellfire bursting from his body like an erupting volcano. He shed his mortal skin, sneering viciously at Korrilla. 

“Mamzell Amira isn’t going to like this…” Korrilla shouted over the turbulent flames, concealing her mouth from the smoke with the sleeve of her dress.

“I’ll be damned what that wretched woman thinks, you insipid creature! She is bound to me regardless, so let her clean up this mess after I’m finished with you. In fact, I will burn this entire pathetic city to the ground. The Illithids will have nothing to claim but charred bones and ruins by the time they arrive.”

The ceiling fell behind Raphael, bringing a wine rack down with it. A large blast of embers continued to swirl around the Devil as wine bottles met the flames, exploding like fireworks. 

“Raphael, we need to get o–”

“Where did they sell it? Tell me at once!” 

“B-Beehives' General Goods… in the Lower City.”

Raphael roared, flapping his wings and causing the fire to grow more ferocious, mirroring his temper. Of all the shops Tav could’ve approached, they had stooped so low as to sell it there. To one of the dullest, most idiotic merchants Raphael had encountered in the last century. If that imbecile desperately needed the coin, why didn’t they approach Raphael? Had he not offered them salvation? A way out of their impending fate? He had made it so easy, so effortless for them! All they needed to do was free Orpheus from those damned infernal bindings. He should have made it more of a challenge, maybe then they would’ve stuck to the script. 

The Devil lashed his tail, destroying what was left of the blackened desk and tearing up the remaining floorboards in the process. How could he have allowed himself to be so daft, to leave such an important part of his plan to mere mortals? If he failed now, when he was so close to the Crown, to his destiny, he would be known as the laughing stock of the Hells. The bards would make a mockery of him in song for all eternity. Raphael’s worst nightmare. 

Around him, the Devil’s Den and his dreams crumbled, turning to ash. No. No! He would not let that happen. There was still time to make amends. 

“Gird your loins, Korrilla.” Raphael bellowed.

“Wait, what? You can’t be–”

Raphael snapped his fingers, immediately sending Korrilla away to another plane. Temporarily banished. He didn’t care where he sent her, he just knew that if he had to look at that face for another second, he feared what he might do to her. The dwarf would prove useful in the days ahead and yes, she did meddle in his affairs from time-to-time, but she was a loyal servant. A strong warlock. She could survive anything. 

He’d find her later, for another scolding and a proper debrief, once the Hammer was back in the hands of that trying little mouse.

—— 

Oliver Tefoco prided himself in the Beehive General Goods. Somehow he still managed to keep his little shop afloat, even after the Absolute targeted the city’s main gates, putting the business in jeopardy. Oliver never thought he could run it by himself, not without his beloved wife, Kroyce, at his side. He had sent his wife and children away when the cultists attacked the city. And all for the best, really, who knew if and when they’d strike again. He couldn’t even remember the last time he had been truly alone; without the sounds of his wife’s idle chatter or his children’s laughter as they ran up and down those rickety old stairs. It was all too quiet now. Gods, he sure missed Kroyce, constant nagging and all... 

The merchant stiffened, immediately rising from his chair behind the counter, as if Kroyce might walk in at any moment. Perhaps he should tidy things up, just in case. It was getting a wee bit dusty in there and besides, there had been no other guests since that dishevelled group of adventurers visited him hours ago. Selling him that strange hammer, he had never seen one quite like it in all his years as a merchant.

He might as well keep himself busy. It’s what Kryoce would do.

Oliver ventured into the kitchen, returning a few minutes later with a rag and wooden bucket filled with water.

“Right…” Oliver muttered to himself, dabbing the rag in liquid. “Better get going.”

Oliver started his task by cleaning the shelves behind the counter, removing the contents from each level. Bottles of wine, potions, books and more books; he had practically everything. Perhaps too many things, maybe he should sell some bits and bobs at the next market. 

As he began clearing away the cobwebs, a strong scent of sulphur abruptly filled the room. The air felt heavy against his thin frame, and he found himself struggling to breathe. He paused, dropping the rag in the bucket. Did he leave the stove on? No, can’t be right. He didn’t remember… 

The merchant turned around and was unexpectedly face-to-face with a tall, dark haired man. Oliver let out a high pitched scream, nearly falling over backwards. 

The stranger loomed over Oliver, his eyes a peculiar golden colour, resembling the flickering flames of a candle. As Oliver stared back at the man, he noticed his skin sizzled, hissing like an overflowing kettle. How long had that man been standing there? He would have to check on that blasted door chime, that’s the second time this week it decided to stop working.

Oliver licked his lips, trying to swallow but realised his mouth was uncomfortably dry. His tongue stuck to the top of his hard palate. Sweat cascaded down his forehead, making his beard a soggy, droopy mess.

“H-hello, my good sir! How may I help an esteemed guest such as yo–”

“I am looking for a hammer.” The man’s voice was deep, intoxicating. 

“A h-hammer, you say? Why, I have plenty. Hammers for building, s-smithing –” 

“No, no…” The man slowly raised his finger, shaking it side-to-side. Oliver could’ve sworn he saw a spark fly from those fingertips. “This is no ordinary hammer.” 

“I-I only have ordinary goods, sir. P-please if you are not satisfied, might I also offer you some light nibbles, perhaps? Or maybe some potions to cure any–” Oliver started going through the rest of his usual spiel in an attempt to calm his nerves.

“You will listen to me.” The stranger growled in response, taking a step towards Oliver. “Someone came into your shop today, selling you a hammer, did they not?”

Oliver’s mouth hung open in confusion and he scratched his head, staring at the man in front of him. The stranger's face turned into a terrifying scowl as Oliver continued to gape. There was something familiar in his face, the way he talked, moved, those fancy clothes… Where had he heard that voice before? And those eyes…

“Did they not?” The man said again, his tone rising.

“Uh, yes? Hold on…” 

The stranger perked up slightly, but his eyes remained stern. He edged closer to Oliver.

“A funny dwarf woman came in here earlier,” Oliver continued, “asking the same type of questions. But I will tell you the same thing I told her. I am not giving away any information. No sir. Those are my rules–”

“Where is the hammer?” The man's voice rumbled through his chest. The room was sweltering and Oliver leaned against the wall for support, feeling woozy. He sniffed the air, smelling something new, something burning. Smoke rose from the feet of the stranger. 

“L-listen here, sir.. I mean no trouble, but I don’t do business with thugs. If that woman is going to send her goons after me, well–”

Oliver never considered himself a brave man. He practically avoided conflict his whole life, save for that one time he punched a man in the face, due to a misunderstanding. He often thought about what he’d do if he was ever threatened, he had no idea how to hold a sword and knew just the basic fundamentals of magic. Despite that, he felt pretty confident he could take on that stranger. No matter how weird he smelled, or how the ground caught fire where he stepped. Just an illusion, that’s what Kryoce would say. 

The stranger raised his hand, and Oliver put up his fists, preparing to counter whatever attack came his way. The man pressed his thumb and middle finger together and Oliver gasped. Long black nails protruded from his fingertips, reminding Oliver of... claws.

The man snapped his fingers and Oliver suddenly found the world around him very, very big. 

—— 

It was impossible for Raphael to keep calm as he tore through the Beehive General Goods. He had turned the entire residence upside down as he searched for the Hammer, plundering the top floors and basement like some sort of petty thief. He ripped through the walls and floorboards in the off chance the merchant hid the Hammer there. 

The Devil knew what merchants were capable of. He had dealt with many in his career, and they were always hiding something, withholding important information if it might make them just an extra bit of coin. There was nothing of value in that so-called shop anyways. Rubbish, the lot of it. And still, no Hammer to be found.

Raphael had been reckless, he would never dare show his cambion form outside of the usual safe houses. It was dangerous to do so in Baldur’s Gate, but he had no other choice. Time was running further away from him the more he dawdled, searching for the Hammer. Raphael would be the least of that merchant’s worries, let alone the entirety of Faerûn, if Tav didn’t have the Hammer soon. 

The sound of glass breaking pulled Raphael away from his internal monologue. A large rat darted across the floor, running back and forth in a rapid attempt to find a hole to hide in. Raphael grinned as he knelt down, picking up the creature by its tail. It dangled in his fingers, squirming. 

“My dear, dear merchant. Are you ready to give me an answer? Or do you prefer being a slimy little rat? I would say, this look suits you quite well. Although, it would be bad for business, don’t you think?” 

Raphael squeezed the rat’s tail tighter and it screeched. 

“Good. Now, let’s try this again. Where is the Hammer?”

To be continued…

[writerofsorts]

A Chance Encounter

(image creds: to the owner)

pairing: jason dilaurentis x female reader.

summary: 2x04 "blind dates" episode imagine/rewrite.

warnings: none.

*read previous part here!

—————

Almost a week had passed since [Y/N] checked up on Toby at Spencer's request to make sure he was alright while working for Jason. Spencer had also made rather a dangerous move by pawning her sister's wedding ring in order to buy Toby the truck he wanted so that he didn't have to work for Jason. Although Spencer was successful in keeping Toby away from Jason, now, she, herself, was in trouble as Melissa's ring was gone from the pawn shop and she had to replace it soon.

Overall, life had not gotten better for [Y/N] and friends, thanks to A.

The school day had ended and [Y/N] was at her locker, grabbing her things when she was called by Ella Montgomery.

"You're not in trouble, honey," Ella said with a chuckle when she saw [Y/N]'s wide and confused eyes.

"Uh, okay," [Y/N] tried to smile back and shut her locker door before following Ella into her classroom.

"I wanted to ask you for a favor," Ella spoke, grabbing a set of keys from her desk. "Mike forgot his keys at home today and I didn't get a chance to give it to him. Aria's already left for the day and I didn't know who else to ask. Would you be able to give this to Mike on your way home? He's usually at the basketball court at the park around this time."

"Sure, Mrs. Montgomery," [Y/N] answered, taking the keys from Ella's hand.

Her parents had been friends with Aria's for a long time now as her parents both taught at Hollis along with Byron Montgomery. Although she wasn't close to Mike, she enjoyed being around him at get-togethers as he was like the little brother she wished she had. So, she didn't mind this little task.

"Thank you," Ella smiled appreciatively. "I would do it, myself, but I've got a faculty meeting to run to."

"It's okay," replied [Y/N]. "Have a good rest of your day, Mrs. Montgomery."

"You too, [Y/N]," Ella said back and [Y/N] waved goodbye, walking out of the classroom.

The school hallways were empty as [Y/N] walked out of the building. She reached the parking lot and noticed some students still hanging around by their cars, laughing and chatting. She made her way towards her car and got in the driver's seat, placing her backpack on the empty seat next to her. She put Mike's keys in one of the cupholders before starting the vehicle and pulling out of the school parking lot.

It didn't take too long before she reached the Rosewood park and found a nice spot in the shade to park her car. She grabbed her backpack and Mike's keys before going in search of him towards the basketball court.

It was a bright and sunny day, and the park was a little crowded for her liking. Ignoring the occasional, curious gazes thrown her way, [Y/N] looked around for Mike. She tried calling his cellphone a few times, but it kept going to voicemail.

A few seconds later, she spotted a young boy sitting on a bench with his back facing her. It looked a lot like Aria's brother and she walked towards him, calling out Mike's name.

When the boy turned around, however, [Y/N] paused in her steps as he was definitely not Mike.

"Sorry, I thought you were someone else," she apologized, feeling awkward, and the stranger shrugged before turning to face forward again.

[Y/N] sighed and turned in the opposite direction to go on the hunt for Mike again when she spotted a familiar face. And, this time, there was no mistake.

Not too far from her stood Jason DiLaurentis. He was wearing grey basketball shorts and his upper body was bare, and [Y/N] tried really hard to not let her eyes wander down to his toned chest and abs. He was holding a basketball in his hands and the frown between his brows disappeared when her eyes met his. He gave her a small smile and a wave. She returned the gesture and slowly walked towards him. He met her halfway and the two stopped in front of each other.

"Hey, [Y/N], I thought it was you," Jason spoke first.

"Yeah, it's me," she chuckled, mentally face-palming at how awkward she sounded. "I'm looking for Aria's brother, Mike. Have you seen him here today?"

"No, sorry," he shook his head. "He give Aria the slip?"

"Something like that," [Y/N] replied. "Mrs. Montgomery asked me to give Mike his keys but I can't find him."

"Why did Aria's mom ask you?" Jason asked, confused.

"She meant to ask Aria but she already left," [Y/N] answered, receiving a nod in response.

"I was always lying about where I was when I was his age," Jason commented with a small smile.

"Yeah?" [Y/N] asked with a smile of her own.

"Yeah," he nodded. "I don't remember a lot about that time actually. Most of what I do remember, I wish I could forget, you know?"

Both of their smiles dropped by the end of Jason's sentence and [Y/N] dropped her gaze to the ground. She remembered all too well about the party boy Jason used to be.

"Do you know what I do remember?" Jason asked and [Y/N] looked at him again. "Your smile."

[Y/N] stared at him for what seemed like a full minute before letting out a short, surprised laugh, "My smile?"

"Yes, your smile," he repeated. "Whenever we came across each other in the past and even now, your smile and greetings have always been genuine. That meant- means a lot to me."

"I- I'm glad," she answered, feeling a little flattered by his words and Jason cleared his throat, praying he didn't make her uncomfortable.

"Do you want me to find Mike and give him the keys?" he asked, changing the subject.

"Oh, it's okay," she replied. "I'll just drop it with Aria. But, thanks."

"Yeah. And, uh, I should get back," he stated hesitantly, tilting his head in the direction where his buddies were waiting for him.

"Of course," [Y/N] nodded in understanding. "Enjoy your evening."

"You too," he said and was about to turn around when he remembered something else that concerned [Y/N].

Just as [Y/N] turned to leave, he called her name and she faced him.

"What's wrong?" she asked in concern when she noticed his reluctant posture.

"Uh, it's about the other day when you stopped by," he spoke quietly, fiddling with the basketball in his hand.

"Oh, what about it?" she asked curiously. She had an idea of what he wanted to talk to her about.

"The gauzes that you saw," he said, finally meeting her eyes. "They really were mine; renovating the house comes with little accidents."

"I- I figured," she replied. She felt a bit guilty, because initially her mind did entertain the thought that Jason was helping Ian, thanks to Spencer's suspicions. Then, she had pushed that idea out of her mind, because she didn't believe that Jason would want to help a man, who was accused of murdering his sister. "And, you don't have to explain yourself to me, Jason."

"I- I don't want you to be afraid of me," he said and her eyes softened at his words.

"I'm not afraid of you," she said back and saw relief fill his green eyes.

"You mean it?" he still asked and she said reassuringly, "of course."

"Alright... so, I'll see you around?" she asked, smiling.

"See you around," he confirmed and the two shared smiles one more time that conveyed more than words could at the moment.

Later that night as [Y/N] lay in her bed, staring at the ceiling, a permanent smile was etched on her face. Her mind continued to replay her conversation with Jason and she felt a little overwhelmed with how much she liked him.

Initially, she didn't think Jason looked at her as anything other than his little sister's best friend. But, the more she interacted with him, the more she felt that her feelings were reciprocated.

She hoped that she was not wrong as she slowly succumbed to sleep.

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