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strawb4kdior · 3 days ago

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little death | c.k

part one

fledgling vampire!caitlyn kiramman & old vampire!reader

wc: 4k

blurb: her longing spirit was the very thing to draw you to her—come to me, come to me. after many years alone, you’d found a companion worthy enough to be yours. but creating a vampire of your own is not easy. even if you are consistently stricken by her delicate beauty and form. the prettiest of birds could still be a thorn in your side.

warnings: MDNI, descriptions of blood, vampirism, lestat coded reader, louis coded cait, cannibalistic themes (ish), eroticism (surrounding vampirism), eventual s m u t, a little toxic, slight manipulation, use of pet names, anne rice vampires.

note: i was watching interview with the vampire (the movie, but i have seen the show) and i immediately got inspired, especially since halloween is so close. please, enjoy the expression of my love for vampires. (btw this will be a two part series).

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The sweetness of her scent has lured you onto the damp cobblestones of England. Her racing thoughts breadcrumbed you to follow her path down dark streets that were haunted by whores and pickpockets.

It wasn’t like her to be in the slums of the city—that wasn’t where she was from. No, she was from the higher points of society. Where the sun cascaded through her large windows every morning. Maids infiltrated her sleeping quarters with different gown options at the break of dawn; handmaidens offering to primp and prime her for the day.

Yet, there she was, slipping through the worst parts of London. And what for? You wondered, lingering in the dark amongst the worldly sin that acted as a decoy for your damned persona.

The fair-skinned woman, hiding under a top-hat, ducked into a structure that resembled any other tenement on the street. But when the heavy mahogany door wailed from its hinges, you caught a whiff of perspiring human bodies—in other words, sex. It was pungent, hard to miss.

You frowned from the shadows, listening to the repeating voices in her mind. One last time— this is my last time. Before my hand belongs to someone else… Her thoughts began to drown out by silence, frustrating you.

It wasn’t often that you found yourself obsessed with struggling mortals. Perhaps, her beauty commanded you to watch over her, like the angel of darkness that you are. Looming over her, predatorily, profusely, passionately.

The apparition of your figure appeared on the balcony of the room she rented for the night. Forcefully, you swung the french double doors open, short heels clicking against the floor as you entered. A woman caked in makeup laid atop of your object of desire; with her hands shoved into her expensive trousers of pretend.

The whorish woman flinched at your entrance, meeting your haunting gaze. Her breasts heaving through the binds of her satiny corset. Fright radiating from her olive-toned skin. From the crevice of her shoulder, the woman who entranced your immortal being, peered. The coolness of her blue eyes pierced through you. Come to me. Or was that your obsession talking?

“You…” She muttered under her breath, nearly forgetting about the woman atop of her, straddling her.

Your steps were menacingly slow, approaching the bed bound by four wooden poles. The bedroom was grand for a whorehouse. The pace of your steps quickened fast enough to be missed by a mortal's eyes. The whore appeared in your arms, rather than on the lap of the high-born woman.

Her back was firm against the front of your body, unblemished fingers running along the plushness of her rouged lips, down her jaw; then, down the cleavage of her breasts. Drawing a small droplet of blood from the puncture of your sharp fingernail.

“This is what interests you, my love?” You pull her head to the side, revealing the artery that you’ve adored for centuries. The paleness of your irises latching onto hers, hungrily.

The woman in your arms whimpered, but you were a gentle feeder. Your touch is what calmed your prey—it was a gift. Every vampire was born with one. “Shh, little dove…” You hummed in her ear, licking the skin of cartilage. “Your time has come.” The sharpness of your teeth scraped at her skin.

Your obsession leaped from the bed, with her hands in front of her. “Stop it— don’t hurt her!” She exclaimed, wearily. She shared the same fear as the woman in your arm had. “It’s me that you want… Right? You can have me… I’m all yours, just�� just let her go.”

She knew of you. The memories that sequestered in the depths of her mind began to paint a picture in yours. The imagery of your figure was shown to you at a ball. Waltzing with the many men that wrote their names on your calling card. You remember that night, vividly. Because that’s when you first saw her—Caitlyn.

Dressed in a shimmering frock that wasn’t modest in the slightest, but had enough coverage to not be mistaken for a woman of the night. Her parents were debuting her, announcing to the ton that she was ready to be married.

Oh, she was beautiful that night. And every night after. Once you caught her nectarine scent, she was all yours indeed.

“I have quite the appetite…” You feigned thought, looking between her and the woman in your arms. “I’ll have you both.” The sharpness of your teeth penetrated her soft skin. Her hand tried to claw at you, but she was no match for your strength. You were sucking the life out of her, quite literally.

Her life source wasn’t as sweet as you had wished—nothing could imitate your truest craving. It had a tartness to its flavor. There must’ve been too much alcohol or drugs in her system. Either way, it’s been days since you had your last meal—your flesh called for fresh, warm blood. So, you drowned in her.

Lowering her body to the ground as you inhaled the last bits of her. Pulled by the confines of your species, you didn’t notice that Caitlyn procured herself a bow and arrow. Tip sharp with authentic silver—where did she find that?

Your eyes glowered at her from over the whores’ fallen body. Lips stained, dribbling with the remnants of her blood. Sharp teeth tainted like they have been many times before. “I’ve heard the stories about you, night witch.” You licked your lips, slowly standing to your feet.

Caitlyn had pulled the string taut, ready to send that arrow flying toward your heart. “You have been following me— stalking me for a fortnight! I want nothing to do with your… Darkness.”

You furrowed your eyebrows, pouting your stained lips. “My… Darkness?” The woman’s blood had slipped down your chin, down the valley of your deep crimson gown. “I only come to those who call to me.”

Defeating the laws of humanity, you appear behind her, flinging the bow and arrow from her grips. Your other pressed her body against yours with unencumbered strength. “Your thoughts called out to me— needed, wanted me. Here I am and you’re trying to entrap me…?” Caitlyn fought against you, but to no avail. The side of your face pressed into hers, inhaling her sweetness. Releasing a sigh of pleasure from its potency.

“I ought to punish you…” She whimpered, feeling the sharpness of your teeth on her skin. Your tongue licks the side of her neck, sensually. Hovering your lips over her ear, you whisper. “However, the plans that I have for you don’t include punishment.” You spin her body around to face you completely. Her body is frozen in paralysis—letting you move her as you pleased. As if she were compelled under your strong gaze. “Only gifts. Many, many gifts.”

Her bright eyes were wide, taking in your features, with arms loosely draped at her sides—limp. “Your beauty will not be taken for granted…” You mutter, gently caressing the skin of her cheeks.

“Are you going to kill me…?”

“Oh, sweet, sweet love…” You pushed pieces of her hair from her face. “Not in the way that you think.” Leaning your face into the crevice of her neck, you nick her skin. A droplet of her blood blossoms over your tongue.

With that, you disappear from her body. Leaving the whispers of a pleasured moan behind. Caitlyn wavered like a lonely, thorned rose. She wanted to scream for help, but drawing attention to her whereabouts was not what she could afford. So, she crawled down the vines that grew up the walls of the brothel, leaping into a prickly bush. She left nothing of hers behind, but a kiss on the woman’s cheek who was fallen on the floor.

It was true that she had called out to you. The stories of dark angels burdening mortals with eternal life—or eternal suffering—was in the storybooks she read as a child. Now, easing into her adulthood. Responsibilities were beginning to strike her. Caitlyn was due to become a wife of a Lord, despite her insignificant wishes.

She complained in her mind for weeks before you showed your face to her, at the ball. When she saw you twirling hand-in-hand with dapperly dressed men, she knew you’d come to pull her from her misery. But her fear remained encompassed in her muscles. Which is why under her long coat, she armed herself with a bow.

Even though she couldn’t bring herself to thrum the string.

The next time your eyes fell on the beautiful Lady, it was the celebration of her wedding. Her family had thrown a ball, and unbeknownst to your immortal being, you received an invitation. In the eyes of most society, you were only an esteemed woman. If people knew about your bloody habits, it’s because you let them. In turn, meaning that they were not going to be alive for much longer. Humans could barely hold water, let alone a secret as important as vampirism.

Your beloved Caitlyn had said her vows to a man riddled with money. She was to be set for life—and her children.

When her solemn sapphire irises found you by the lemonade table, without a drink in your hand, speaking to one of the overbearing mamas of the ton, she froze. Her slender fingers were intertwined with her father’s, trying to waltz away from her fate. Inadvertently, she called out to you, again. Unsure of what that really meant for her.

The last time you seen each other, you admitted that you were planning to kill her. In truth, that left her frightened for days. She hadn’t slept soundly since that night. However, the thought that plagued her mind was if death would be better than marriage. Caitlyn never took kindly to the men of the ton, or any man for that matter. Yet, here she was, married to one.

The last step was consummation—and that was something she absolutely refused!

Patiently, you waited for the perfect time to sequester her. To narrow in on your beautiful prey; to cage her in your arms, and pull the life from her eyes just enough to give her a brand new opportunity.

It was in her final moments alone. In her chambers, dressed in a translucent cream sleeping gown. Her long indigo strands fell down her back in waves, front pieces pushed behind her ears. She was due to her husband soon, but her fingers trembled above her vanity.

When she felt your aged presence infiltrate her bedroom, her posture stiffened. But there was a sense of relief. “You have finally come to take me…” Caitlyn muttered, hopelessly. Her eyes caught the reflection of you wandering around her room. Fingers trailing over her trinkets and paintings on the wall. “What took you so long?”

Your eyes shot to hers through the mirror, as she didn’t risk facing you just yet. “Are you admitting to wanting my kiss of death, beloved?” Scaling her mind, you sifted through her anxious thoughts. The tall woman turned toward you, achingly.

“You promised to kill me… But not in the way that I would think. What does that mean?”

Instead of directly answering her question, you slightly divert. “How does a woman from a large, well-known family become so small?” You pace around her chamber, with sickeningly slow steps. The trail of your mahogany gown dragging along the wooden panels of the floor. “For weeks, your thoughts had been calling out to me for some resolution. That is what I’m offering to you… Resolution. Absolution.”

Caitlyn stood to her feet, clad in thin slippers. She couldn’t explain it, but she felt drawn to you. The softness of your speech was alluring—comforting in the face of death. You held out a delicate hand toward her. Fingers cold, remnant of what you were, beckoning her forward. She slid her hand into yours, reaching for you while her body still took the time to catch up. “Let me release you, Caitlyn, from the shackles of propriety and fabrication… And everything you don’t desire carnally.”

Slowly, she blinks, under the spell of your ancient beauty. Your hand creeps up from her hand, up her arm, finding solace in the crevice of her neck. Pulling her close, her sapphires bore into yours.

Time stops with her in your arms. Your beloved Caitlyn, finally succumbing to you just like you knew that she would. “You’ll never have to see him again… Unless you want to. By then he’d be eons beneath you.” She leaned into your hand, looking at you with doe eyes. You hover your lips over hers, breathing in the last moments of her humanity. “This is only a little death.”

She pushes forward, subtly, with wanting for your lips to touch. They only brush each other because you pull back. “I’ve only heard your thoughts— tell me you want absolution. Tell me you want me.”

Her hand trailed up your forearm, holding your wrist for support. The thumb of her hand caressing your skin. “I want you.” Her voice barely skipped over a whisper, pulling her body closer to yours. “I want absolution. I want you.” Caitlyn chanted, breathily.

Pressing your lips against hers, she fell victim to you. Whining against your lips as if this was something she had always wanted. The taste of sweetened lemons and cinnamon danced over your tongue. Bracing your arm against her back, your feet lift from the floor. Lips trailing down her jaw, leaving wet kisses against the skin you were preparing to puncture with your teeth. Her arms wrapped around your neck, unaware of the hovering of your bodies. Still, chanting the words you wanted to hear.

A whimper left her rouge-stained lips when you bit into her jugular. Clenching the roots of your hair. Vermilion liquid slipped from the corners of your mouth as you fed on her bodily energy. You had to drain her to the near brink of death, but her flavor was so intoxicating. You were beginning to wonder if you could willingly stop.

After all, you weren’t the most controlled vampire.

Groaning against her skin, you tightened your grip. Her hands began to loosen in your hair, arms falling limb to her sides. Taking everything in you, whipping your head up, you stopped yourself. Caitlyn’s eyes had rolled to the back of her head, but she was still there. Head nodding in a state that she wouldn’t survive in for long.

Gently, you lay her down on her bed, pushing her hair from her face. “Only a little death.” You repeat, biting into your wrist to share your gift. Living her head, you press your wrist to her drying lips. “Drink, my love. Drink.”

And she does. With every drawl, her strength grows. Arms reaching up to push your wrist deeper into her face—as if it could go any further. You winced but accepted the pain of your fledgling. Her thirst light eyes looked up at you from her awkward position on the bed. They enticed you more than anything ever had, allowing her to put you through pain, weakening you. “Enough…” You mumble, stammering. “That’s enough!” Snatching your arm from her grasp, you stumble backwards.

Leaning on the bedpost near her legs, you heave, wishing to regain your strength. A mischievous curl appeared on Caitlyn’s lips, but before she could revel, she crunched up like a piece of shrimp. Her hand clawed at her stomach, gagging like she wanted to throw up. “It… Hurts… Ahh!”

You run closer to her, placing a hand over her bloody lips. “That’s your body dying… You need to stay quiet before someone hears.”

Her eyes clamped shut as she groaned into your hand. Sighing, you shut your eyes. Perhaps, you forgot to think this part through. With your remaining amounts of strength—which wasn’t much—you picked her up. Placing one arm under her legs and the other supporting her back. Then, you leaped off her balcony and ascended toward your luxurious manor.

It was like you had appeared in another location, rather than flown there. Caitlyn was stuck in a haze of pain, wallowing on the bed you placed her on—yours. “Please, help me! Take away my pain!”

“I cannot do that. It’s something every one of us endures, sweet thing.” Your fingers caressed her paling face, running along her dark eyebrows. Sooner than later, she goes unconscious; and you watch as the beauty of her features embellish.

Caitlyn Kiramman didn’t need to be immortal to inhabit the nature of beauty. Her stoic features were burned into your mind the very moment you saw her and her silhouette. From this moment forth, she belonged to no one but you—she was your companion for all eternity.

When she opened her eyes to reap the benefits of the reborn, you weren’t anywhere to be seen. Her sight was clearer than ever—she could see the accumulation of dust on the crevices of your floral wallpaper. The spider weaving a sticky web in the wooden shutters on your long windows.

Caitlyn wandered the dim halls of your manor in search for you. Clenching and releasing her fists, as her slippered feet shuffled against the floor. She passed portraits of you hooked onto the walls. Where the gowns you wore exposed the time of the painting's creation. Then, she passed a dark corridor. Her curiosity getting the best of her, she wandered. Peeking into the room with a creaked door.

Her pale fingers pushed it, lightly. It’s hinges cracking under the subtle pressure. Two coffins remained, there was no bed frame or mattress. Just elegantly carved coffins—side by side.

She eventually found you sat at a long dining table only covered in expensive décor. Bronze five-headed candle holders, each wax stick blazed with a flame. There were only two chairs at the table: one for you, and assumably, one for her. A glass of a red, thick substance sat before you. The sides stained with its color—you’ve been drinking it.

“You’re awake…” You mused, shutting the small book in your hands. “Please, sit.”

A maid steps forward from out of nowhere, pulling the chair back for Caitlyn to take a seat at the table. Hesitantly, she does. Her eyes leveling on the female maid, chewing the soft skin of her bottom lip. “How do you feel?”

Her eyes were still taking in the interior of your home. It was inspired by the Strasbourg cathedral—gothic in all its glory. It wasn’t the same French style that the majority of England was interested in.

“I feel… I feel different.” Her voice was much smoother than before. More elegant—if that was even possible. She sighed, placing her hand against her stomach. “Very hungry, as well. Do you have any food here? Sandwiches?”

A boisterous laugh falls from your lips, but you cover your mouth with a white handkerchief. “Sandwiches? No, there are no sandwiches here.” You take the glass filled with blood between your fingers. “But, if lunch is what you desire. She’s right behind you.”

Her eyebrows furrow, peering back at the maid who had just pulled out her chair. Her head was down, hands folded in front of her body, politely. “What…?”

“Your body will no longer digest human food.” You explained, concisely. “She is now your diet.” There was still hesitation coming from your fledgling. Frowning, you narrowed your eyes, tightening your jaw. “If you don’t feed, you will die. And that death would be far from little.”

Her now paled irises looked back at the maid. “Go ahead, Miss Luther.” You wave your hand in the direction of Caitlyn. The woman was young with flushed cheeks and freckles that spread from the middle of her face. Her blond hair was pushed back by a pleaded coiffe.

The maid sits on her lap, without being asked. Causing Caitlyn to peer a crossing the table at you, with a slight glare. Miss Luther tilted her head to the side, exposing healing puncture wounds that were made by you. Caitlyn spoke your name like a warning. “I’m overwhelmed…” She squeaked, drifting her hands up the maids body.

“Well, you need to eat.”

“I don’t want to hurt her.”

The maid turned toward the Lady, smiling sweetly. “It’ll only be a pinch. I’m used to it.” She paused, looking down at the fledgling. “I offer myself to you, my Lady.”

With that, her eyes widened, shooting up from her seat. She flung her back so hard into the wall behind her that it cracked under her weight. Miss Luther fell to the ground, harshly. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” She waved her hand at the girl, before looking toward you. “I can’t do this.” Caitlyn stretched her neck from the woman—trying to pull the scent from her nostrils. She could smell the ripeness inside of her. “What have you done to me…?” She muttered, slapping her hands against her face, running it through her long hair.

“Only what you told me to.” Slowly, you stood tall from your seat, eyeing the situation at hand. You had never run into a newborn vampire who ran away from the enticement of blood. Downing the glass that was filled with the very essence of debate, you slammed it back on the table. The crystalline glass shattering under your fingers.

Appearing beside the maid, you pull her to her feet, gently. “Put your humanity to rest, my love, and drink from her.” You caress her freckled cheek before taking her jaw between the pinch of your fingers. “That is what she is here for— that is what she wants. Its more savory than sweet when they’re fearless.” Caitlyn remains stuck to the wall, chewing on her bottom lip. “I don’t want to have to tempt you…” Taking the maids wrist, you cut a thin slice with the blade of your fingernail.

Caitlyn hissed, baring her teeth. You chuckled, dabbing your finger along the laceration. Dipping your finger into your mouth, and popping it from your lips. “Savory, indeed.” You raised an eyebrow, holding her wrist out to her. Still, she hesitated, frustrating you more.

Your hands move quicker than your thoughts. Before you know it, you’ve pulled her from the dent in the wallpaper, nudging her to the maid. “You don’t have to kill her…” You offer, pushing her forth. “Just taste her.”

To be honest, you were fooling her. There wasn’t a such thing as a fledgling vampire getting a taste and not killing their victim. You were trying to save her from a painful death. She didn’t get this far to die because she didn’t want to feed. And what would that make you look like as her sire—the one who bore her?

With furrowed eyebrows, she leaned into her wrist, going teeth first. Her tiered white canines delved into the laceration, moaning at the flavor. A grin grew on your lips as she pressed her face deeper into her forearm. Miss Luther whimpered, watering eyes peering up at you. The thumb of your finger wiped a tear from her cheek, as the fledgling made a hungry move to her neck.

Caitlyn clawed at her with vigor, gripping the grey frock causing it to rip at the seams. Gutturally groaning into her jugular—getting every last drop of that vermillion goodness.

“Just like that…” You mutter, running your fingers through Caitlyn’s hair.

The maid went limp in her arms, her eyes fluttered shut. Caitlyn pulled back, dropping her body; overcome by a high. Her teeth were tainted with blood—its dribbling caught by the translucent cream nightgown that exposed her feminine silhouette. It stained a valley down her sternum trailing all the way to the frills at the hem near her ankles.

She bled Miss Luther dry—just like you expected her to.

Her hazed eyes looked to you, tongue licking her lips. The pupils in her pale irises dilated. “I ache for more…”

“Of course, my love. More you shall have.”

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strawb4kdior · 3 days ago

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HELLO, NEIGHBOR II.

modern!violet x fem!reader

previous part: part one

next part: part three

warnings: language, chaotic!reader, the fall of mc syndrome, apologies, grumpy!violet, angst, enemies to lovers?

blurb: with the intention of apologizing to your neighbor, you decide to make a peace offering. who knew that those could actually end up doing the exact opposite.

author’s note: ... if violet was a complete asshole to me... tbh i’d still [redacted] her [redacted]

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“Look, just go to the shop, get her some cookies that you think she’ll like — then, give it to her as a peace offering. Boom! Problem solved!”

Those were the last words you heard from Caitlyn as she fled your unorganized apartment. And the dismissing your meddling accusations about her. Dressed in her fashion forward work attire, walking with a feminine sway in her hips. She blew you a kiss, and slipped through your front door. Left to deal with the annoyed force next door.

You absolutely hated making bad first impressions, but that was the card you were dealt. And you had every intention on making it better. Caitlyn might have been onto something with the cookie idea. Who would turn down a box of fresh baked cookies.

There was no way you were just going to buy a box from the store. To ensure she takes your apology as genuine, you were going to serve them hot and ready. And, this may have been a talent of yours — baking. You just had to battle her unknown schedule. According to Violet, she had something important going on in the morning. So, instead of sitting around, you’ve decided to head out for your ingredients.

You were content with making basic chocolate chip cookies — because who could resist chocolate chip cookies?

Since you were going to the grocery store, you decided to restock on a few things — as well as the baking ingredients. Maybe, you could unpack the kitchen completely so you won’t have to order take out.

And that’s exactly what you did. You placed a pair bluetooth headphones in your ears, and began making your house a home. Which led into you nearly unpacking the whole house. Time slipped between your fingers, and next thing you know, it was 8:45 PM. You hadn’t even started making the cookies yet, and you Violet had to be home by now...

Or, she could actually have an exciting life, and is prepping to go out and probably bring someone home later. Wow, that was a far fetched thought. But it could definitely be true. She was hot, and you knew, that she knew, that she was hot — it was obvious. Violet had not only an incredibly toned physique, but... She was also really pretty.

Like, really pretty.

Even with her being evidently annoyed by you, you couldn’t help but internally swoon.

After making the batter, then tasting the batter — you rolled them into little balls, placing them on the parchment paper lining the flat pan. After sliding the pan into the oven, you immediately put a timer on your phone.

To the pass the time, you grabbed your mailbox keys to give it a check. It was only your full second day in the house, and you were positive that your main hadn’t reached the new address yet. But, it was worth a check.

Pushing your feet into your banana themed slippers, you slipped out the door. Not forgetting to lock it behind you. With your phone in hand, you scrolled absentmindedly on social media. Seeing a high quality picture of your best friend and — what your assuming to be — her client.

Caitlyn’s arms is draped over the young woman’s shoulder, while the other is holding up a flute of champagne. It seemed that she had sold a luxury home — which, now makes her, a luxury realtor. That was definitely something worth celebrating — both for the client and the seller.

You’d stepped into the elevator, pushing the first floor button. Liking the picture, then commenting supportive words. Dainty music playing through the speakers of the shaft.

BIG MOVES ARE BEING MADE! Congrats to the both of you!

The elevator dinged, letting you know that you made it to the first floor. Pushing your phone into your pocket, you stepped out into the hall. Walking towards the wall of black metal mailboxes. Your apartment building was on the cheaper end of luxury apartments. While you weren’t paying over a million in rent, or even hundred thousands — you were paying a good grip.

So the location of the mail was off in a distant corner. The area was well decorated with spectacular lighting, and wooden fixtures. There was even a four by four wooden cabinet for trash and paper supplies.

Fiddling with your keys, loudly. You approached box 333, with wishful thinking that your mail would be there. Sticking your key in the lock, giving it a short turn to the right, you pulled open the rectangular mailbox. A rolled magazine was pushed to the side, along with the usual business envelopes stacked beside it.

With your lip between your teeth, you pulled out the magazine placing it under your arm. Then, taking the white envelopes, hoping to see your name and address.

Your eyes fell, seeing the name of a stranger on the mail — not your mail. Except for the magazine, that was issued to you. Probably, because your worked for the magazine. The Progress Report. Your fantastic writing skills is what earned you this apartment — which adds more context into why your life was so bland.

Stuffing the mail back into the box, you sigh. You walk over to the four by four counter, just to read through the paper. It was the new issue that you’ve only skimmed. You hop your butt onto the cabinet, unrolling it to scan the pages.

A dark-skinned woman was on the cover, adorning a slim fitting dress with gold accents. Long fingers perched under her shin, looking straight into the lens with persuasive forest eyes.

Licking your thumb, you flicked through the pages. The company decided to do a few changes to the aesthetic of the magazine this month, and you were interested in comparing the differences. As well as finding your contributions to the infamous magazine.

Absorbed into the shiny pages between your fingertips, you didn’t notice the fatigued figure walking towards you. “Hey, new neighbor.” She sighed, sliding her slippered feet to her mailbox. Keys jiggling between her bruised fingers.

You popped your head up, immediately shutting the magazine. “Oh, hey, Violet.”

She smirked, looking over her shoulder at your sporadic movement. Seeing you hop off the cabinet, rolling the magazine continuously. “No need to stop what your doing just for me...” Violet opened her mailbox, taking them out one by one to look at it.

“Oh, no — I just have something upstairs that I’m keeping an eye on.” You nod, pulling out your phone to check the pending timer — 6:13. You still had a few minutes left... Why not stay for some conversation.

She hums, examining the envelopes issued to her. “You baking or somethin’? I thought smelt somethin’ sweet on my way down here.”

You nod quickly, stilling the rolling your hands against the waxy covers of the magazine. “Uh, yeah. They’re cookies — chocolate chip and homemade.” You gestured your hands wildly, smacking your hand and the rolled magazine against your thighs. The magenta haired young woman, sifts through her mail spending you a short glance.

“They’re, actually, for you. As an apology for last night.” You added, with much hesitance. Now that you knew she was home — you weren’t sure if you wanted to surprise her or just fess up.

So, you fessed up. Why not? A good deed is still a good deed with her knowledge of it.

Her cool blue eyes looked up through her tilted head, before slowly lifting, leveling her irises on you. “Oh, really?” Violet wonders, slowly. A smirk curling on her crooked scarred lips. She begins towards you, taking up the very edge of your personal space bubble. She leans her sculpted arm on the top of the marble surrounded column of mailboxes. Her keys dangling from her fingers.

Stuffing the rolled magazine under your arm, you leaned your hip along the edge of the short cabinet. “Y-Yeah. Baking is one of my hobbies. So, I can guarantee they won’t disappoint.” A generous smile painted onto your lips. Surprisingly, your nerves didn’t get too much of the best of you. Even though, her dilated irises were practically looking through you. While a faint smile lingered on her soft lips — they just looked so soft.

Violet hums, nodding her head. She drops her arm to her side, averting her eyes from yours. “Well, that’s just too bad then, huh?” She mutters, brushing past you. The smile on your face slowly falls, a slight wrinkle forming between your eyebrows. “I’m on a cut, right now.”

You weren’t really familiar with her terminology, and you weren’t sure what that had to do with your cooking. She swiveled on her feet, eyeing your face of confusion. “It’s a thing athletes do to cut down on some weight for competitions.” Violet explains plainly.

Uncertain, you squint your eyes in her direction, upturning your chin. “So... Thanks for the offer, but... No thanks.” She shrugged, shamelessly. Exiting the mail corner with a bit more coolness than she walked in with.

She’s such a fucking liar. You thought, shaking your head as you watched her get into the elevator a few feet from you. Violet doesn’t even send you a glance as she steps in, immediately pulling out her phone. So, what? She wasn’t even gonna offer you a ride up? You may have annoyed her the previous night, but now she was annoying the shit out of you.

Where you come from — when someone makes food for you, you eat it. Who gives a shit about her... Cut. One cookie shouldn’t mess that up.

And you know your cookies are bakery worthy. So, even if it does — it’ll be worth it.

Violet is getting those cookies. You’re going to girl-scout your peace offering by knocking on her door with a large bright smile. And, she’s not going to be able to resist it. Hopefully.

The frown on your lips was wiped at the delicate sound of your alarm. Cursing under your breath, you stomped towards the elevator. Clutching the magazine roughly in your hands, as you pressed the up arrow. As you waited for the doors to pull open, her name was flashing through your mind in big red letters.

In your mind, you’re criticizing how she practically denied your apology — she definitely denied it. You simply cannot believe that she’s on a cut. She only said that to get under your skin, and it’s working. This could’ve been you overreacting — becoming heated for no reason. However, when she stood at the threshold of your personal space, mischief gleamed in her eyes.

You may have initially confused them for a flirtatious gaze, but they, in fact, weren’t. Which was irritating enough.

The doors opened, you pressing the third level button. Pouting with your arms crossed, you kept scoffing to yourself. Thinking about all the things you should’ve said to her before she walked off — or while she walk off.

When you got to your floor, you sped down the hall to get to your home. Fiddling with the key, you looked to your left at the very end of the hall. Glaring at Violet’s front door as if it was actually her. With a groan, you pushed into your much cleaner apartment. Closing the door behind you with your foot.

“You’re getting these damn cookies.” You mumble manically, stalking towards the oven. Grabbing a pair of oven mitts, you pull out the flat pan. You’ve decided to place the hot cookies in one of your tupperware bowls, just so she couldn’t really escape you. Not only was she taking your cookies... She’s taking your tupperware — and that’s money! She’s going to have to give that back.

Ugh, that simple encounter has you reeling... In the worst way possible.

You weren’t the type to constantly be jabbed and do nothing about it. If you get jabbed, so do they — much harder, too.

Which was inherently wrong, according to Caitlyn. But this was just cookies and tupperware.

You unload the rows of the flattened and cooked to perfection sweet treats. Stacking some of them in the plastic container. You place the lid on top, pushing down the latched to keep it in place. Huffing with a smile on your face, you trot to your front door.

Collecting yourself and curating the perfect sly resting bitch face, you found yourself standing at her front door. Both hands holding onto the sides of the foggy plastic container filled with goods. Bracing your hands at the bottom of the box, you raised the other to knock sternly. Sending a firm three knock combo.

Adjusting your stance, you brushed a piece of lingering hair from your face — weirdly, priming yourself before she answered the door. You hear her muffled voice, scolding someone else with an irritated tone. She yanked open the door, a bored look on her face. Her steel irises drift from your face to the plastic container in between your hands.

“And you brought them anyways.”

“I sure did.” You sassed, pressing your lips into a tight smile. “I spent hours making these for you as an apology — just to prove that I’m not some annoying ass, noisy neighbor. And instead of ‘Oh, my Gods! y/n, you’re so thoughtful. Thank you so much’, I get some stupid athlete-bullshit excuse!” You exclaim, dramatically.

And you were being absolutely dramatic. By choice — at least, that’s how you’d defend it.

Violet leaned against her door, with a very minimal curl to the edge of her lips. In your fit of frustration, you weren’t really paying attention. It was best for you to dissociate from her innate beauty if you wanted to be taken seriously.

The irony.

“I’m sorry for the overwhelming amount of Katy Perry, okay? Didn’t mean to alarm the tenets with my gayness.” You rolls your eyes, gesturing with one hand. “I’m just stressed — and with that stress I made you chocolate chip cookies from scratch... From scratch. Not everyone can do that.”

“True. Everyone can’t do that.” She nodded, seeing that as the only opportunity for contribution. Violet was more than impressed with your scattered outburst. Initially, she took you for a bit of doormat. Not technically a complete doormat, but maybe a corner of one. But, you were proving otherwise.

You looked absolutely insane. Like, even in her being impressed — she was a little nervous that you going to throw the cookies at her.

“Exactly. I don’t give a shit if you eat the cookies or not — even though, I definitely want you to—“

A blue-haired, light blue-haired, girl pops from around her shoulder. Her deep blue eyes were wide, a child-like grin spread across her freckled face. She had similar features to the pink-haired, but they were exact. “For someone who wants to prove that they’re not annoying and noisy... You sure are annoying and noisy.”

Stopping you mid-sentence, your lips stuck on the shape of the last syllable. You blinked, awkwardly being taken out of your rampage of frustration. Violet sent a glare to the girl, beside her. “Powder.” She gritted her teeth, glancing back at your unreadable expression. Her eyes dropped to the box in your hands.

“Ooh, you’re the cookie girl. Wow, those look amazing — and smell amazing.” She mused, leaning closer towards the door frame. The girl, Powder, was shorter than Violet. When she fully walked around her firm body, she leaned her head on the doorframe with intertwined hands in front of her body.

Her small voice cutting you off, cut you right out of your little moment. Instant embarrassment flooded your entire body — coating every inch of you like molasses slowly drenching you. “If you want them, they’re all yours.” You speak, barely. A weak smile pulling onto your lips, only to fall.

“Really? Sweet!” Powder giggled, snatching the box from your hands. She disappeared like she never was there to begin with — causing you to feel like your were having an out of body experience.

You were too embarrassed to freeze in spot, but you wanted to. Possibly, just fade away, too. A slight look of shock readied on the magenta haired woman’s face, swiveling her head from the appearance of Powder.

Shutting your eyes, sighing. “Goodnight, Violet.”

“y/n—“

“Goodnight!” You sung, waving your hand dismissively. Entering your apartment, you set all the locks — in pure silence. Then, onto straightening out the kitchen, making it look it did earlier in the day. Without all the lingering flour and dirty dishes.

After the responsibilities, you finally made it to your room. You pushed the door closed with your body, huffing and puffing all the way to your blow up mattress. Which only added to the overwhelming feeling of embarrassment.

Sometimes you were too much for your own good.

You collapsed onto the blow up mattress, only for it to — pop!

“You’ve got to be kidding me!”

And the mattress agrees with that statement. You’re just... Too much.

343 notes · View notes

strawb4kdior · 3 days ago

Text

HELLO, NEIGHBOR.

modern!violet x fem!reader

next part: part two

warnings: language, bestie!caitlyn, awkwardness, grumpy!violet, enemies to lovers?

blurb: you could thank your friendly realtor for finding the best apartment in the city. you could also thank her for your foul tasting encounter with your neighbor. thanks cait.

author’s note: i’m in desperate need for vi like rn. y’all know a love a cute mini-series. this ain’t a one stop shop over here. i just don’t know how many at this given moment :)) i might not even be mini... it could be legit.... we’ll see.

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Moving as an adult was no fun — it was actually completely boring.

The fun part was the apartment hunting. Not so much the comparing of prices, but the imaginative part. Where you visualized yourself living your life inside of that apartment — all while you took the tour. However, you have now reached the moving in process. Unpacking all of your boxes, and actually moving into your new place.

Which, by far, was the worst part.

Cardboard boxes nearly covered the entire floor plan of the apartment. Your furniture wasn’t going to be delivered until next week — so it was just going to be you and those goddamn boxes, and a blow up mattress.

Thankfully, your friend had scheduled to help your for the next few days. Oh, and she was your realtor — Caitlyn Kiramman. Probably, one the best real-estate agents in the city.

“Let’s just crack open a bottle, and start unpacking — make this more enjoyable.”

“Crack open a bottle of what?”

Caitlyn grins, sporting her charming smile as she waltzes over to the kitchen in her comfortable house slippers — the ones she carries in her purse. The portables. The kitchen was damn near empty, just filled with a ton of boxes. However, when she’d arrived she came bearing gifts.

Pulling out two deep olive green bottles from her purse, she jumped on her toes excitedly. Two bottles of merlot. “Crack open these babies. One for you, one for me.”

You hum, trotting towards her. “What exactly did you mean by... Enjoyable? Wine drunk on a Tuesday, when I should be unpacking my things?” You raised your eyebrows, digging into a box. Sounds of crumbling echoed off the walls as you tossed out the protective paper. Reaching inside, you plucked two crispy clean wine glasses.

The blue-haute designed, taking the portable cork remover from her bag. She popped out both the corks, starting to pour your glass. “I’m just trying to help you relieve some stress, y/n. Moving in is rough — I would know.” She spoke, while pouring the bitter substance into the bowls.

Taking your moderately filled glass, you held it properly by the stem. “Why don’t we just drink a bit, slowly unpack — just relish in sealing the deal on this amazing flat!”

She always did have a celebratory mind — her profession was right up her league. Apprehensive, you take a few seconds to loosen your shoulders. Clinking the bowl of your glass, you completely give in. “Let’s do this your way.” You sip the substance, allowing it’s bittersweet flavor to dance along your tongue. The aged grape juice quenched your thirst, while sending slight buzz to your brain.

And that’s what the rest of the night was going to look like. Buzzing grape juice slipping down your throat. Glass after glass. Not so much unpacking, though. Because once music was added to the pair of you, all the priorities were out the window. You swung each other around, not forgetting to take sips of the deep cherry wine.

Next thing you know, both bottles were empty and the two of you were laying in starfish position on the wooden floor. Old Katy Perry songs blasting through Caitlyn’s portable speaker. I kissed a girl — to be exact. Which was really on brand for the two you, you guys just happened to enjoy it way more than Katy.

“How the hell am I gonna put all these things awayyyy?” You drawled, whining with a pouty face. The wine didn’t help your want for a quick fix. If you had the power to snap your fingers and all of your belongings be put in place — you’d snap in a hurry. “The merlot wasn’t a good idea, Caitlyn.”

Her mouth fell open, swiveling her head towards you. Her blue strands spread along the floor. “My bad for caring about my best friends livelihood.”

“Livelihood? I’m just exhausted, Cait, that’s normal.”

“Not to mention the fact that you’ve been oh, so, lonely for the past year and a half.”

You sit up abruptly, deepening your eyebrows. “There’s nothing wrong with being lonely.” Shrugging defensively, you stand up, crossing your arms over your chest. Caitlyn mirrored you, standing up. Katy Perry was still playing in the background, causing the two of you to yell over her lyrics. “There’s nothing wrong with being alone, but there is something wrong with being lonely.”

There’s something wrong?

Sure, you’ve been alone for... Awhile. Alone as in, without a significant other, or even trying to look for one. You’ve had hookup’s in the past, but it’s been a very dry season lately. With working yourself to the bone, just to be comfortable enough for this apartment — busyness has conquered you. There was no chance for free time to... Not be lonely.

“Oh, so... You’re not lonely?” You deepen your eyes, delivering an accusatory glare.

She straightened her posture, crossing her arms over her chest. “No... I’m freely dating. And I suggest you do the same — it’s fun.”

“Or more stressful.”

“Trust me, y/n, it’s not. As long as you go at it the right way.” She grinned, exposing her little gapped tooth. Caitlyn approached you, placing her hands on your shoulders. “You’re not worth all this stagnancy. You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever encountered — inside and out. And it would be selfish of me to keep that all to myself.”

You furrowed your eyebrows, accepting her complimenting words. The blue-haired was just coming from a concerned place. She’s been noticing how hard you’ve been working, yet giving barely any time for play. No pain, no gain — right? “Thanks, Cait.” You looked up at her tall figure, as she pulled your into a tight hug. Her long arms wrapping around yours shoulders, firmly. Laying her head atop of yours, placing a short kiss on your forehead.

She hummed against your hair. “I love you, y/n, alright? I just want the best for you.”

“I love you, too — and, I know, I know.” You snicker, linking your wrists together along her defined spine. “It’s just... Nobody likes to be called lonely, and that it’s wrong. Even if it is.” You pouted, scrunching up your eyebrows to maintain that firm demeanor.

She pulled away, keeping her hands on the shoulders. “Yes, I know... The truth hurts.” Caitlyn shrugged, a playful grin pulling onto her lips. Squinting your eyes, the corner of your lips curling in preparation to make a petty comment. A knock at your door sounds above the music. It was tired, as if the knocking had been already going on — even though, this was the first you’ve heard of it.

“Hm. Who could that be?” You muttered, mostly to yourself. But, of course, Caitlyn heard. She grinned, raising her eyebrows. Gesticulating for you to run and answer the door promptly. This was your very first knock on your recently purchase apartment.

You scurry to the door, after hearing the knock once more. “Coming! Gimmie one second!” You pushed through the big boxes — some that were open, some that were still taped shut. The blue-haired lowered her speak immediately.

Finally, getting to the door, with a anxious breath leaving your lips. You released the chain lock, then flicking the deadbolt to the left to pull it open. As if it was all in slow motion, the door had opened revealing a persons back.

They had short magenta hair, nearly red — you weren’t sure. Sporting a fitted wifebeater that was slightly see through — so you could see the faint details of the dark ink etched in their fair skin, alongside the dusted freckles on the backs of their shoulders — not mention the obvious strength in them. They also wore a pair of grey sweatpants, leading to a light pink pair of bunny slippers.

Too busy sizing the stranger up, they’d pivoted catching you eyeballing their muscular frame. With raised eyebrows and bits of confusion in your eyes, beside the obvious attraction. The stranger deepened their dark eyebrows, piercing their powdery blue eyes at you — no. Through you. “Runeterra to new neighbor...” They waved their hand in front of your face, cutting you out of your state of awe.

Their voice was slightly raspy and even — practically music to your ears. They happened to be a few inches taller than you, so their head tilted slightly downward — enforcing their natural intimidation.

Popping back into the real world, you immediately apologize. “Oh, yeah... Hi, sorry.” You nervously giggled, leaning onto your unstable door. Connecting your hip to the the thin edge, you rocked with the door. Until it metaphorically shoved you off, causing your trip on your own feet. You sniffed, pushing the stray pieces of hair from your face — if there was any — clearing your throat.

Raising their eyebrows, they pushed a faux grin on to their lips. “Hi.” Ugh, it was so forced. “You’re music is too loud. Turn it down — the whole apartment complex doesn’t have to know that your gay.”

You couldn’t help but drop your jaw, furrowing you’re eyebrows. Blinking at the stranger slowly, trying to gauge the situation. “Unless you want everybody to know — then, props to ‘ya.”

“Or... I just like Katy Perry.” You denied, because... You’re a denier. Of course, you’re gay and are fully attracted to women — you also happened to like Katy Perry. Specifically, I kissed A Girl. And that’s no coincidence at all.

“‘California Girls’ and ‘I kissed A Girl’ playing back to back... Hm. Seems pretty gay to me.”

“Do you just come knocking on random people’s doors questioning their sexuality? That’s not very friendly.”

They chuckled to themselves, running a hand through their thick magenta strands. “Why would I want to be friendly when the same songs have been playing on repeat for the past four hours.” Her voice began getting sterner and sterner. “And, this might come as a shocker to you, but people need sleep. People have important things to do, and I happen to be one of those people.”

“So, I would prefer that you cut the slumber party shit, and start again tomorrow — when everyone is awake.”

Your face was stuck in a confused and appalled expression. How could someone be so bold and apathetic to someone who just moved in. What happened to common courtesy? Even if the music was too loud — you just moved in. A simple complaint would’ve been appreciated.

Feeling a presence over your shoulder, you peer over to the blue-haired stallion positioning against your doorframe. “No need to be so snappy, Violet. That’s no way to treat your new neighbor.”

“Oh, Caitlyn, of course you’d be behind this.”

“Whatever that means.” She retorted, rolling her royal eyes. “y/n, Violet — Violet, y/n.” The blue-haired quickly introduced, glancing between the two of you. “She’s a lot nicer when she’s not sleep deprived.” Caitlyn looked to you, trying assure you with her soft blue irises. You were far past intimidation — you were just annoyed at her short-circuited annoyance.

Violet rolled her eyes, stuffing her hands into the pockets of her sweats. The muscles in her eyes slightly flexing at the stretch and pull. “Yeah, I’ve just got a big day tomorrow — so, music off... Please.” Her steel eyes glanced between the two of you, before beginning her short journey to the apartment beside yours. “If I hear anything short of cherry chapstick... I’m gonna give Caitlyn a bad review.”

She gasped, poking her head through the door. “You wouldn’t!”

“I would.” Violet squints her eyes, a slight smirk spreading her scarred lips. Then, her cool eyes flickered to you. Who was barely standing in the hallway, with your arms crossed under your chest. “Nice meeting you, new neighbor.” Sending you another fake smile.

Then, she slipped into her apartment, slamming the door shut behind her. Hearing the lock and chain of her front door.

Your eyes trail back up to your friend, who had her lips tucked between her teeth. Pivoting in her slippers, to avoid your piercing eye contact. “Having a grumpy neighbor wasn’t in the advertisement, Cait.” You shut the door, locking all the necessary locks.

“My job is to embellish, y/n. What type of embellishing would I be doing if I admitted to grumpy neighbors — that’s just for you to find out, love.” Caitlyn fanned her hand, threatening to burst into a boisterous laugh. “And, she’s not even that grumpy. It’s just late.” She paused, leaning on the counter of your kitchen. “Also... She’s kind of fit... Dontcha’ think?”

Now, that was something you could mutually agree on. She was absolutely stunning, good lord.

Wait.

You squint your eyes, picking apart her hiding smile. The constant pushing of her hair behind her ears — Caitlyn is up to something. “Dontcha’ think — what are you up to?” You mock, stalking quickly to the kitchen, standing across from her on the other side for he counter.

Caitlyn shrugs, blinking plainly. “Me? Up to something? Never!” She pulls out a few snacks from her bag, placing them on the counter. “Want to watch The L Word on my laptop and audio record our commentary?”

Her quick change of the subject was too much of a good one to pass up — this conversation will be coming back around. Caitlyn Kiramman wasn’t as slick as she thought that she was.

But, how could you resist Shane McCutcheon?

“Absolutely. Anything to distract me from these awful boxes.”

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strawb4kdior · 3 days ago

Text

RAWRRRRR ENEMIES TO LOVERS WITH CAIT?! MORE PLS

Pretending

Caitlyn x fem reader

enemies to lovers AND one bed? For @gwscloq I hope u enjoy!

summary: your family and the Kirammans have been rivals for decades, but when the tension boils over between the heirs of their families names (you two), the conflict is resolved rather unusually.

C/w: smut both reader and Cait are switches, but reader is bratty when she subs. Fingering, pussy eating, clit stimulation, heavy petting.

w/c: 3.5k

You were sprinting as fast as you could. The feeling of the wind on your face and in your hair was elating. Just then, you saw your final target.

Got her!

You confidently took aim, and fired. Finally, you had bested her. You turned to your left to gloat, but she wasn’t even there. “Kiramman?” You looked around for her, but that’s when you noticed her target was already shot. She was past you.

How!?

You were floored. How had she managed to get so far ahead? You thought you left her in the dust! Swallowing your pride, and the sting of hot tears, you continued on. Of course, she won in the end. You made your way to where the after party would be hosted, bested again. When you got there, sure enough, Caitlyn Kiramman had just arrived. She was being handed the trophy as you walked through the door.

How had this happened again? You worked so hard. Year after year after year, you could never beat her in a shooting match. Snatching a glass of champagne, you went out on the balcony to get some fresh air. You could feel the tears wanting to spill over, but just as you might give in, someone joined you. “Oh, there you are. I was worried you got lost.” Caitlyn’s voice. You didn’t even turn around. “I don’t feel like talking to you.” You spat.

“Don’t be a sore loser. It doesn’t suit you.” Caitlyn moves to stand next to you. In a desperate attempt to say something, you rushed out “I’ll be a better sharpshooter than you someday. Then we’ll see who gets lost.” Caitlyn only snickered. “Perhaps, but you’ll never be a Kiramman.”

That was you and Caitlyn at twenty one. Your sworn enemy. No matter how hard you tried, it was always her who emerged victorious. Always boasting her Kiramman name too. She never did that to anyone but you, like she wanted you alone to hear it. Your parents were obsessed rivalry too. They hated the Kirammans. There was some decades long scandal about who that seat in the council really belonged to, but for now in was in the hands of the Kirammans. Every time you lost to Caitlyn, everyone was disappointed. It practically cost you your family’s good graces for the next few days.

“Losers have no place in this family. If you can’t stand against Kiramman, what do you plan to do in the future?” Your mother would say, sipping on her piping hot tea. “I’m sorry…” you replied every time.

The years past, and the rivalry only seemed to get worse. You never beat her at the shooting range, no matter how hard you tried. When you realized she also became an enforcer, you wanted to pull your hair out. You thought you’d finally get some space, but no. She’s in your unit too.

“Why are you here?” You said, when she blatantly sat beside you at some assembly. “I could ask you the same thing. Are you stalking me now or something?” She said coolly. “Please, you’re not all that, Kiramman.” You shifted to the far side of your chair, trying to avoid her.

“Oh don’t be like that…” Caitlyn rolled her eyes. “Pouts don’t suit pretty faces.”

“Are you making fun of me?”

“No, not at all.” She swapped her attention to the assembly. At least you’ll be finished with her once it’s over. You’re going on patrol after this.

After the assembly, you made your way to your post, and saw your partner from a distance. “Hi! Looks like we’re partners for patrol toda-” Caitlyn turned around. She was your partner? Your eyes rolled automatically, and Caitlyn seemed to feel the same way. She was glaring at you almost the entire time. “Well, we better get going. I don’t want this to last for too long.”

“You seem perfectly fine with teasing me, but when we actually need to work together you’re all annoyed? You’re such a child, Kiramman.” You said once the two of you began walking. Caitlyn scoffed.

“Oh please, you’re the only child here. You can’t even shoot straight.”

“I’m a good shot!”

“I’m an excellent shot.” Caitlyn retorted. You stopped walking, trying to calm yourself. “Hurry up or I’ll leave you behind.” Caitlyn called over her shoulder. You didn’t speak to her for the rest of the patrol, but you did notice how often she would glance at you. Sometimes your face, but mostly, your body in that enforcer uniform.

Pervert. You thought to yourself. Caitlyn was popular, and definitely got around. Not a lot of people knew about the more salacious side of her, but you were keeping tabs on her. Not because you wanted to see that side of her, but just to keep yourself aware of her. Being some kind of player was exactly the thing she’d do.

Around a week later, a grand ball was being held in Piltover for all the most important families. Your parents were dead set on outdoing the Kirammans, and also proving their daughter was the prettiest and most eligible. Sometimes, it felt like they cared more about them than they did you. You were an adult, and they still fussed over your clothing for someone else’s sake.

“Maybe this one? No, I’m sure that Kiramman girl will show up in blue…” Your mother pressed each dress close against your chest to envision them on you. “Mother, I can’t ever win against her…maybe it’s time to quit this silly rivalry.” When you said that, your mother froze. “Are you insane? They took everything from us! We were the most noble family around before they stole our council seat!”

“Did that even happen?” You asked. The exhaustion in your voice made your mother gasp. “I can’t believe you. No daughter of mine reasons with a Kiramman.” She said it like a slur.

You arrived at the ball, and for once it felt like all eyes were on you. Despite this being what you thought you always wanted, you didn’t really like it. The gossip that surrounded you still found a way to be about Caitlyn.

“She’s not that Kiramman girl, but I’ll introduce my son anyways if she doesn’t work out.”

“Eligible enough I suppose. Although my first choice is most certainly Caitlyn Kiramman. Imagine the connections!”

It pissed you off. These people always thinking that you were at their disposal as some second choice bride.

Never.

Just then, the room went quiet. They were here. You turned around to be met with Caitlyn and her family, who instantly stole the show. Caitlyn was dressed differently than usual. She was dressed a little more masculine today, adorning a fancy looking suit, but she looked good. The lace cuffs and sapphire collar made her look like a prince. Your eyes met almost instantly, and Caitlyn shot you a wink before seizing the attention for herself.

You almost didn't mind. You were done with this silly feud. She’d always be better then you, and you accepted that. You went out to the balcony and sipped some wine, watching the sun disappear behind the Piltover horizon. “You’re not giving me trouble today. Why?” Caitlyn suddenly appeared at your side. “What do you want?” You snapped. “I’m just checking on you…harsh.” Caitlyn laughed softly. “I’m doing great.” You spat. “Don’t be ridiculous” Caitlyn said with sass in her tone. “You’re obviously upset. I’ve seen you like this enough times to tell.”

You stood up straight, and walked back into the ball. She wasn’t trying to comfort you. It would probably turn into another jab. When you re-entered the ball room, your mother was scowling at you. She made her way to you and said. “There has to be something more we can do. Everyone here sees you as a number two pick…of course that Kiramman girl is first. She’s not even that special… still More special then you are anyways.” You were so close to tears. Just as they were about to fall, a voice spoke. “Excuse me, ma’am?” It was Caitlyn. You looked over your shoulder in surprise. “I happen to think your daughter makes a lovely bachelorette. In fact, I’ve been considering her for myself.”

What?

Both you and your mother looked incredibly confused, and so did the many eavesdroppers your conversation attracted. “What are you saying?” Your mother pressed, not quite understanding what Caitlyn was implying. “They always say to find someone who can match your energy, yes? I think your daughter does that very nicely.” You felt the heat in your face rising. What was she thinking? “Excuse me?” Was all your mother said, grasping at straws to come up with a competent answer.

Caitlyn took your hand and kissed the back of it with a small bow. “I’ll be here if no man catches your eye.” With that, she walked away. The room was close to silent. Nobody had even considered that she was interested in women, much less you. The young men and their families plans for whom to talk to were ruined. No Kiramman, and apparently no you either, since she made her claim quite obvious.

“Well I never…” Your mother mumbled, the surprise evident on her face. You were still frozen. Did that really happen? As far as you knew, Caitlyn and you hated each other. She always teased you, and made fun of you at every opportunity she had. What changed?

You took another glass of wine, and went back to the balcony to speak to Caitlyn. “Uhm, Kiramman?” She turned around, and smiled when she saw you. “Yes? Can I help you?”

“Why did you do that?…” She laughed softly, sipping on her own drink. “Your mother was treating you quite rudely. I felt bad for you.”

Was that really it? She just felt bad for you?

“I don’t need your sympathy. I also don’t need you pretending to be in love with me.” Caitlyn walked straight to you, getting in your personal space. “I’m not pretending.” And she left again. Your heart was racing. Was this just another game for her? Messing with your emotions to weaken your resolve? Well it wasn’t going to work… Right?

“I need you on this mission.” Sheriff Grayson said to you. She had summoned you to her office a couple minutes earlier. “Yes sheriff!” Your first mission! So exciting. “Of course I’ll be sending another enforcer with you, because you’re still a rookie. This is just a minor check in on the undercity, so I’m not too worried.” She strolled around her office. “Oh? Who else is coming with me?”

“Sheriff?” Caitlyn entered the office. “Officer Kiramman will be accompanying you.”

“What?” You both said, looking to each other. Grayson raised her eyebrow. “You two aren’t children. Get on with it.” You wanted to respond, but couldn’t. Begrudgingly, you left the office with Caitlyn behind you. “Alright…. So I suppose we should get going. Caitlyn shut the door and began to head for the bridge. “Let’s get this over with… I don’t want to be walking around with you all evening.”

The sun was already setting when you and Caitlyn made it to the undercity. The mission wasn’t even that much of a mission. Just a check up on night life regulations such as drug use and prostitution regulations. You were upset. Your first mission side by side with Kiramman, wasted on interrogating suspicious dealers and brothel managers. All you wanted to do now was go home.

“Damn it…” Caitlyn muttered, checking her watch. “What’s your issue?” You came up behind her. “It’s one o’clock in the morning… the station is closed till six.” Your stomach sank. “We could just walk right?”

“At this time of night, I’m not sure that’s a good idea.” She looked around as if trying to sort out what to do. “Then what are you suggesting we do?” You broke the silence. Caitlyn hummed before pointing to a small hotel with neon colored lights. “There. We’ll just have to stay the night.” Before you could protest, Caitlyn was walking.

“One room for two please.” She asked the staff, who nodded and grumbled something about enforcers. “There ya go.” They handed Caitlyn a key, and she turned around to urge you to follow her. The deeper you walked into the hotel, the shadier it started to look. The whole thing was lit with neon pink lights, and some less than appropriate sounds were coming from the other rooms. When Caitlyn unlocked the room she had requested, you were greeted with a neon red lit room, and one bed in the center. “I said for two.” Caitlyn muttered, entering the room anyways. “You’re not going to ask for it to be fixed? I don’t want to share with you.” You stood outside the doorway. Caitlyn merely raised one eyebrow. “It’s late. Come in or leave.” You hesitantly stepped inside. When Caitlyn closed the door, you felt small. The taller woman walked around you to mess with the lights, finding that they only shone pink or red. Caitlyn chose the pink.

“I can’t believe you booked us a room at a love hotel.” You crossed your arms, trying not to look at her as she loosened her collar. “It was the closest place. I wasn’t about to walk any longer to find a shadier hotel.” She slipped off her shirt. “Why are you undressing!” You averted your gaze quickly. “Calm down! I just want to sleep comfortably.” She rolled her eyes. “I didn’t take you for a prude.”

“I’m not a prude!” You retorted. “You’re acting like one.” Caitlyn unbuttoned her pants, leaving her in her undergarments. You wanted to respond with something snarky, but you had nothing. So instead, you responded by removing your own uniform. Caitlyn’s eyes were on you instantly. When you looked back, she looked away. You folded your uniform neatly and got in the bed. Caitlyn followed. It wasn’t large, and you could feel her feet brush against yours whenever either of you moved. “Move over.” You grumbled when her back was in your face.

Instead of moving, she turned around to face you. “You’re such a pain.” She said in that stupid accent. The same accent you couldn’t help but appreciate the sound of suddenly. You scoffed, and closed your eyes, not liking how sharp her eyes were on you. Neither of you spoke for another ten minutes. “Do you hate me?” She whispered suddenly. You opened your eyes. Caitlyn was looking at you strangely, she looked conflicted. “I…” you weren’t sure what to say. Did you hate her?

“No. We’re just…from rival families.” You decided on. Caitlyn sighed. “That sounds so childish.” You pulled the duvet to cover your chest. “Maybe, but still.” More silence. “I was serious back there.” Caitlyn murmured. “What?”

“I wasn’t pretending.” She slid closer to you. “Caitlyn?…” You weren’t sure what to do. One moment she’s rolling her eyes and calling you a prude, and the next, she’s brushing her hand over your arm.

“What are you doing?” You took her hand to move it from your arm, but she wouldn’t let you let her go. “I don’t want to compete with you. I’m tired of pretending I’m not obsessed with you” Caitlyn came closer you could feel her breath on your face. “What are you talking about?” You searched her face for any kind of answer. “To tell you the truth, I took us here on purpose.” Her voice quieted. “I’ve always…always…” She took your face in her hands. “You’re really lucky I love you, or this whole rivals thing would’ve pissed me off.” She slammed her lips into yours, kissing you like she’s wanted to for years. Her arms were wrapped tightly around your back, and you couldn’t help but give in to her. She was a good kisser. Once again, better than you.

When she stopped, you could hardly believe that happened. Caitlyn smirked. “Oh I’ve fantasized about doing that for years.” She pressed her forehead against yours, and slipped her hand into your panties. “Kiramman…” You said, suddenly wanting her to follow through. She brushed her fingers against your clit before rubbing it in firm circles. “Fuck… Kiramman..” Caitlyn was smiling. She kissed your neck, and sighed in your ear. Your hips quaked as your orgasm hit you.

“Fuck you’re so pretty…” Caitlyn moved to that you were underneath her. “Kiramman…” You didn’t even know what to say when she lifted your bra to palm at one breast. “What are you doing…”

“You don’t want me to stop do you?” You shook your head no. Caitlyn smirked and moved to be between your legs. She moved your panties to the side and began to hungrily eat your pussy. Your hands tangled in her hair as you gasped, and Caitlyn’s hands squeezed your thighs. Her tongue traced your entrance before moving inside. “Fuck- Kiramman!” You couldn’t help but grind your hips against her face. Were you hate fucking? You genuinely didn’t know anymore. Her lips were wrapped around your clit and you were so close. Just as you were about to come, she pulled away. “Asshole.” You muttered.

Caitlyn rolled her eyes, and returned to your swollen mound. “You’re soaked… Stop pretending.” Caitlyn pushed two fingers inside of you, curling them together. You were close already. You knew she had experience, but now you knew why she was so popular. “For someone so feisty, you’re so sensitive…” She teased. “Shut up!” You were loosing control. Caitlyn giggled and pumped her fingers faster. “Hm? You were saying something?” You came again, moaning loudly. “Good girl. You’re doing so well.” Caitlyn cooed. She leaned in to kiss you, tongue exploring your mouth with practiced ease.

You pushed her back. Caitlyn looked surprised, but let you crawl on top of her. “Oh? What’s this?” She was looking up at you with lust in her eyes. Caitlyn let you take off her underwear, and her eyes looked straight into yours. It was like she was still topping even when she was on the bottom.

“Hah…. You’re good..” Caitlyn gasped, tightening around your fingers. She was good at keeping her composure. You moved your fingers faster, relishing in wiping the stupid smirk from her face. “Please..” Caitlyn begged, moving her hips against your palm. “Begging, Kiramman? What would your family say?” You mocked. “Oh please… I think you’ve done far more than me.” You sped up to shut her up. Caitlyn came then, gasping and calling your name.

The two of you made out into the night, forgetting about any rivalry or family.

When you woke up in the morning, Caitlyn was already awake. She’s was in the bathroom splashing her face with water. She made eye contact with you through the mirror, and smiled. “Good morning sleeping beauty. I thought you’d never wake up.” You sat up and rolled your eyes, trying to appear cold. “You’re really going to give me attitude? Even after last night?” She walked out of the small bathroom section and ruffled your hair. “You were so cute too. When I woke up, you were cuddled so close to me. One would be surprised to know you still try and act like you hate me after the hand I lent you...” She joined you on the bed, twirling one strand of your hair. “Kiramman… You can’t just suddenly be all flirty with me after hating my guts.”

“Flirty? That’s what you call it? I kissed you. You let me touch you. You fingered me right here on this bed. We had sex. Many would die to be in your position.” You thought back to the night before, and way she held you so tight, like she’d wanted to kiss you since forever. “I’ve admired you for quite some time now. I was to stubborn to admit it.” She looked away from you. “I let this silly feud get in the way. I’m not going to do that any longer. From now on, I swear to stop bickering with you.”

You sat there, completely amused. “Uhm…” Caitlyn moved closer. “What’s your answer? Surely, you have something to say to me?” Her eyes were slightly pleading. “Kiramman- I-” She pushed you back against the bed abruptly. “Stop with that! Seriously! Just- just call me Caitlyn…” She seemed very serious. She backed off of you and you sat up, trying to settle your pounding heart. “Sorry…” Caitlyn looked embarrassed.

You sighed, and scooted closer to her, taking her hand. “If you really want, we can try to start over, Caitlyn.” She looked at you instantly. “Yes. Let’s.”

“What a day…” Caitlyn said, flopping onto bed next to you. You laid there in the satin robe, admiring the ring on your finger. “Hey, Cait?” She looked over at you. “Yes my lovely wife?” She was being corny on purpose. You rolled your eyes. “I’ll never get tired of you doing that.”She came closer. “What did you want to tell me?” You snickered. “Once upon a time, a certain someone told me, ‘you’ll never be a Kiramman’ that aged poorly didn’t it?” You shot her a teasing stare. Caitlyn scoffed. “I’m still a better shot.” You nestled further into her arms. “Are you? I’d say I’m at least on your level by now. If not, maybe even better.” She chuckled, and kissed your forehead. “Shut up, Kiramman.”

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strawb4kdior · 5 days ago

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handsome cait nom nom

rimari

@rimri4mm

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strawb4kdior · 5 days ago

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ahhh sobbing - andrea ¿por qué nos haces esto?!!!!!! 😭😭😭😭😭😭

Heyyy I’ve been craving some Billie angst😔😔😔 what do you think about Billie and reader having a common child but are separated and like one time one of them gives a jealous scene or something.

I just need divorced bils and reader angst, and why not with a little baby in the middle

hey baby! Here’s a little something xx hope you like it ❤️‍🩹

—————————————————————————

She’s here.

Your little girl squeals, her ocean blue eyes shimmering with delight. The kind of joy that makes her whole face light up. She drops her stuffed rabbit on the floor without a second thought and runs for the door, sneakers squeaking on the hardwood.

It’s late afternoon when she knocks. Three short raps— like she’s always done. The late-day sunlight is warm against your back as you pull it open, revealing her standing on your porch in a faded hoodie, hair tucked messily beneath a cap. She’s got her hands in her pockets, posture loose but eyes sharp, and you’re suddenly aware of every heartbeat in your chest.

“Hey,” she says, soft enough to make you forget, for one fragile second, that you aren’t hers anymore.

Your daughter pushes past you, pigtails bouncing, smiling ear to ear. “Mommy!” she squeals — to you — before turning to Billie. “Mama!” She throws herself into Billie’s arms without hesitation. Billie catches her easily, lifting her until the little girl’s sneakers dangle and her giggles fill the air.

You watch them — the way Billie presses her face into your daughter’s hair, the way her shoulders loosen when she holds her — and there’s an ache in your chest that’s half love, half grief.

They talk in their own little shorthand as Billie sets her down and kneels to zip up her jacket. You move to lean against the doorframe, arms crossed, keeping your face unreadable even as you drink in every line of her. Then your daughter’s voice breaks the moment.

 “I’m so excited, Mama. You said I could meet your friend today. The one who’s super nice and has a puppy? Is she coming with us?”

Wait… what?

It’s like someone opens a window in the middle of winter — the air in the room changes instantly. Your smile stays fixed, your tone doesn’t waver, but inside something twists hard and deep. Your eyes flick to Billie, and hers flick to you, just for a beat. She knows.

There’s a flash of guilt in her gaze before she looks away, fastening the zipper all the way up. “Yeah, baby. She’s excited to meet you, too,” she says gently.

You keep your voice light. “That sounds… fun.” And it’s convincing — at least for your daughter. Not for Billie. Never for Billie.

She stands, smoothing your daughter’s hair back, then glances at you again. There’s something there — a thousand unsaid things, like smoke between you. A whole conversation packed into silence: I didn’t want you to find out like this. And, from you: Of course you didn’t.

Your daughter tugs at Billie’s hand, eager to leave. Billie hesitates, looking at you like maybe she wants to explain, maybe she wants to stay — but instead she just says, “We’ll be back by eight, okay?” Her voice is careful, warm around the edges in a way that almost undoes you.

You nod, your throat too tight to answer without giving something away. She gives you a tiny, almost imperceptible smile — not quite an apology, not quite reassurance — and then she’s gone, walking down the steps with your daughter’s small hand in hers.

Through the doorway, you watch them until they disappear past the hedges, the sound of your daughter’s chatter fading into the distance. The house is quiet now, but the echo of them lingers, filling the space between the life you had and the one you’re trying to live without her.

You close the door slowly, leaning your forehead against it for just a second. You’re not sure if the ache in your chest is from the jealousy or from the fact that even now — even with someone else in her life — Billie still knows exactly how you feel without you having to say a word.

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strawb4kdior · 6 days ago

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Teahouse Jealousy

"He was honest about his desires. That is a swordsman who knows the shape of his soul."

Things have been building for a while. Mizu is happy to avoid the topic, in favor of focusing on her mission. Finding yourself exasperated, you accept some help from an unexpected source.

A/N: ITS DONE, FINALLY. Fucking 7600 WORDS of slow-burn mutual pining, bad communication, and jealousy. But hey, I did manage to fit in some spice at the end, hey?

Anyway, this is my first actual fic on here, so lmk what you guys think? Should I stick to lists? :,)

WARNING: this is REALLY LONG. I'm very sorry.

TW: jealousy, mentions of murder, mentions of sex work, SPICE

For this outing, Mizu insists on the boy disguise, your least favorite. You greatly prefer it when you can pretend to be her wife (of course), or even possible meat for the flesh market–because then she plays it up, a hand on your lower back, her voice dropped to an extra raspy register. But that last one is rare; you know the cost that playing that role seems to take on her, and you don't encourage it, despite the tingles it sends up your spine.

And you certainly don't complain about the freedom the boy disguise gives you for movement. But it does limit your ability to speak, as well as blocking your ability to get close to her side…you would never admit the reason you don't like it, but your reproachful expression says enough. She huffs out a sigh.

“Nobody brings a maiden to a brothel. You'll make us look odd,” she tells you, in the tone of voice that brooks no argument.

You wilt further the second she mentions a brothel, zoning out Ringo’s anxious questions; it was bad enough clenching your fists and staying silent while those two women ran their hands over her in Kyoto; now she's actually seeking such a place out? Your stomach squirms. Kyoto, and every moment of that visit, are burned into your brain. You share a trepidatious look with Ringo. You vow not to leave her side for even a second.

Your explicit instructions were to “just look flustered and don't say anything”. That's not hard. You avoid eye contact with the working girls, and stare down at the table while you all wait for Kaji. The atmosphere of sexuality is stifling; it mingles strangely in your stomach with your feelings for Mizu, leaving you feeling on-edge, paranoid about being caught out. You could almost believe that these women, of anyone, will be able to smell the desire on you at a single glance. You've got Mizu’s fingerprints denting the very clay of your soul.

Madam Kaji, when she appears, does nothing to set those fears at rest. Her voice may be melodic, but you can feel her eyes scrape over you like a razor, as if they could peel back your skin and see underneath. You do your best to mimic Mizu's flat stare; after this long traveling together, you usually manage rather well. You've even managed to shoo off a few bothersome pests of your own in the past. This time, though, there's a hard edge to her smile that makes you wonder how much slipped through.

For all Ringo says about an apprentice should stay with his master, you somehow seem to lose sight of him in the walk from the corner where you were sitting to the hallway Madam Kaji pauses in. You remain by Mizu’s side. You don't feel any scorn towards Ringo for this. Nobody could say he isn't as loyal as they come, but desire is a powerful force.

Desire. Need. It's why Ringo disappears, and why you don't. He has his own desires to attend to, and you can respect that. But there's nothing in this brothel that you desire more than what you're already standing next to.

Madam Kaji motions to a small pocket of light at the base of one of the hallway panels. There’s a pause. When Mizu doesn't move to look through the peephole, Madam Kaji motions in your direction. “Perhaps the gentleman's apprentice would like to show him that desire is nothing to shy away from?”

You freeze like a cornered deer, meeting her taunting gaze with wide eyes. Her expression says it all; there's a test in this somewhere, a challenge.

Where the hell is Ringo. Trust him to be gone when there's something he would actually want to do. Nevermind on that whole no-scorn thing! You're going to kick him next time you see him.

Your pleading glance at Mizu produces no reaction; she doesn't even look your way. She's simply glaring at Madam Kaji. Challenges have never bothered her; if she doesn't want to do something, she just doesn't. Ugh. Someone needs to do something.

You look through the hole.

…Hm.

Honestly…it's not that bad.

Strange, certainly. The men in ropes, the writing, but you find yourself privately siding with Madam Kaji; it's nothing shameful. Just more of what you had observed while waiting in the main teahouse room. They're not bothering anybody. You consider that there have been worse atrocities you've seen in your travels with Mizu, all the way back to your first meeting.

You shrug up at Mizu. It’s nothing she'll be interested in, nor that she needs to see. She just looks even more impatient at the delay, fingers tapping on her crossed arms. The expression she shoots at Kaji is her classic get on with it glare.

Smirking, Madam Kaji motions to the final peephole. By now, you've lost your hesitation. If you feel anything, you're relieved that this is the last one. This shuffling around on your knees is not only making them sore, it's embarrassing to do with two people standing silently over you, eyeing each other warily.

You peer in.

At first glance, it seems to be just a man and a woman–nothing so strange as the other ones. The man is dressed in dark blue, his hair tied up in a knot like Mizu’s. But then the girl turns to the man, pushing his yukata off his shoulders; it's not a man, but another girl, bared to the touch of the first woman. They kiss, bodies molding together with no hesitation.

You tumble back abruptly, eyes wide, feeling your face flush so fast that the skin on your neck is prickling.

“What? What?” Momentarily distracted from glaring, Mizu looks startled by your reaction. When you shake your head in silence, worried that explaining would give your secret away, she glares suspiciously at Madam Kaji. She's clearly bristling at your apparent distress, assuming you've had a trick played on you. She reaches down to haul you to your feet with a rough tug to your arm, shoving herself half in front of you. “What did you show-...him?”

Kaji’s eyes narrow a fraction at Mizu’s brief stumble on your pronouns, and she smiles, sharp as a knife. With a little click, she slides the peephole shut. “Desire. A complicated thing,” she murmurs in that teasing, seductive tone. “We are not always ready to face it when it first finds us.”

She slides open another full panel, revealing a pleasantly decorated little room. A couple of the girls are in there, already, setting up a table with ink and paper. They look up and giggle when they see you both, their eyes lingering on your flushed cheeks. You can feel them darken again under the scrutiny, and drop your eyes to the mat until the girls leave. When you hear the panel slide shut, you look up to see Madam Kaji’s eyes on you. As soon as you make eye contact, her gaze slide away, to Mizu.

She doesn't look at you again until the moment of Mizu’s proposal.

You both can see the moment that the refusal in Kaji’s eyes wavers, but something else flickers in their depths when she glances between you, and you know what's coming. She wants to talk to Mizu alone.

With Mizu's husky name your desire still bouncing around in your head, obliterating your every other thought but how much you want her, Kaji's desire to exclude you makes you want to bite the woman like a territorial dog. You take a half-step closer to Mizu as Kaji suggests that she take a walk with the gentleman “one-on-one”.

“Perhaps the gentleman’s apprentice would like to enjoy some of the pleasures of my teahouse while…he waits?” She asks sweetly, her smile warm and her eyes hard as gemstones.

Mizu looks at you expectantly, seemingly unbothered by this; she'd probably agree to making you wait on the roof if it got her the information she wanted. You shake your head instead, giving her a look of incredulity in return. Obviously no. When is she going to start trusting you to stay at her side? What do you have to do to prove yourself?

“I haven't got any money,” you reply cleverly, keeping your voice as hushed as you can to disguise it, your eyes flicking up to meet blue orbs like a challenge. You can't really refuse, given that you're playing at master-and-apprentice, but you can make it hard. She can't keep shutting you out. Not this time; now you have an excuse. What prostitute will keep you busy for no money?

A brief light of pure, gremlin devilment comes into her eyes–it doesn't happen often that her rare sense of play is roused, but from what you've seen, that never means good things for the recipient. You should have known better; Mizu never tolerates being maneuvered into allowing something she doesn't want.

She holds the money bag out to you with a little shake to jangle it, and you deflate visibly.

For a moment, there's an unspoken moment of confusion and communication both ways; at first, Mizu holds the money bag out with an almost teasing smirk, clearly indicating let’s see how you manage this one. She doesn't see any danger in it. You can always just sit in the room alone. She's only interested in making a point; this is about negating your excuse.

But when you slump with such an obvious air of rejection, the playfulness drops from her gaze, replaced with a bemused concern. She'll be back in a handful of minutes, why is it such a big deal? This isn’t your fight, you don't need to be here to begin with, much less be stuck with her every moment of the day. So… why does she feel such a pang at your hurt face? You in turn see the momentary flash of confused guilt in her eyes, before she drops the money bag in your hands.

It startles you. You didn't expect that she would care.

Madam Kaji, watching all this and not missing a single beat, says nothing. She claps sharply. Two girls pop out of what seems to be nowhere, taking your hand with an air of false promise in their eyes.

“Ooh. you’re a pretty one,” one purrs, tilting her head with carefully practiced flirtation.

“We almost never see any young and pretty boys,” the other concurs. It’s like being slowly engulfed by the coils of a very nicely perfumed snake. At Madam Kaji’s nod, you’re tugged away, looking over your shoulder at Mizu with a distinct air of betrayal. You fully expect her to turn away, but she keeps staring as the girls lead you back into the room, her expression unreadable.

Even after the door slides shut, she doesn’t move, listening to the giggling emanating from inside, her hand clenching unconsciously on the hilt of her sword. It takes a prompt from Madam Kaji to get her moving again. Face snapping into its usual scowl, she turns and stalks away, leaving Kaji to try and match Mizu’s longer stride in the confines of her kimono.

“So, pretty apprentice, what can we do?” Asks the one in green, her dark eyes sparkling as they flick to the money bag still clutched in your hand. “How can we serve your pleasure?”

As attached to Mizu as you are, you’ve never been flirted with by a woman before, and you can’t help the blush. But even that isn’t enough to distract you from the melancholy of being left behind like a pet yet again. Waiting in the cold for hours on the bridge to Shindo Dojo, left in town with Ringo in Mihonoseki, watching her leave with Taigen down that narrow chasm… You shake your head, mouth twisting in tandem with your guts. What if Mizu never comes back? You know the trick she played on Ringo; you giggled about it at the time, you recall guiltily. But you can’t track like he can, even if you’re faster than him. And if she leaves you alone for something like this, what is she planning for the actual attack on Fowler? Maybe you really are just a burden she can't figure out how to shake…

“Why so sad?” The one in gold asks, her sympathy syrupy-sweet. She puts a hand on your arm, but you shift away.

“I'm sorry,” You say, distractedly. You aren't watching your tone as well as you should be. “I would rather be alone. Thank you.”

Silence. They don't move to leave, nor do they try to further convince you. You look up from your despair after a moment, becoming aware of their lack of response.

They're both staring. Studying you. Then they look at each other.

Before you can parse why, the gold-clad girl suddenly lunges forward, catching you by the chin and jerking your chin up, staring at your neck. Your smooth, Adam's-apple-less throat.

“Hey!” You yelp, knocking her hand away; she lets you go readily, already smiling with a distinctly cat-got-the-cream air.

“So that's it,” she says, smugly. “I suspected as much.”

“Is it…?” The other asks fascinatedly. Your eyes dart between them, confused, forboding building in your gut.

“Definitely,” says the first. They both turn to you, looking amused and intrigued.

“Playing dress-up, girl?” Asks Green, smiling archly.

Oh….oh no.

You go cold. “I…I don't know what you…”

“Re-lax. You think you're the first to put on men’s clothing in here? Didn't you see the little show we put on for you?” Gold waves a hand dismissively, talking out over top of you.

“It happens all the time. So, what does your man want? To pretend you're a boy? A new flavor to try? Or some training for you?” Green cuts in, raking her eyes over you. “Is he selling you?”

“He’s–…not–...my man,” you stumble. How to even explain that tangle? Clearly they believe Mizu's disguise, if not yours. You're not about to spill any of those beans, more than you need to. “And I would never stay here.” You pause, suddenly hearing yourself, and bow apologetically. An aching heart is no reason to be rude. “Not that I mean to degrade your work. I'm sorry.”

Both women look at each other, then start to laugh. Clearly they've heard worse.

“Then why do you look so sad?” Asks Gold once her laughter has passed, and this time she sounds almost genuinely interested. She pets your hair, gentle, like an older sibling. “Come on, girl, you can tell us.”

You should just tell them to go. But the room is quiet, and warm, and clean, after months of shacks and forest camping and inns full of leering men. And gods… you're so tired. To unburden yourself to someone would be such a relief. You haven't ever been able to talk about these confusing feelings; the only confidant that you have is Ringo, and you do not trust him with that kind of conversational grenade.

Discretion is the whole point of this place right? There are far worse secrets that they must keep.

Green leans against your shoulder, and this time it feels less sensual, and more like a friendly touch. You're surprised by how it loosens a knot in your chest that you hadn't recognized until now. When was the last time you were hugged?

You sigh. “It’s a long story…”

As it turns out, it's a long enough story to require two pots of tea–and then a relocation, as the girls drag you back to the dressing room to re-tell all the juicy details to the rest of the girls.

It's…therapeutic, to bare your heart to a group of open-minded, half-drunk women. They’re clearly connoisseurs of gossip, and they make extremely good listeners; gasping in all the right parts. You can't help but enjoy it a little, finally just venting it all out, lounging with the ever-shifting number of girls as sake replaces the tea. Girls come and go from the room as they head to various clients, but except for one they call “new girl”, who keeps her face turned away from you, they all come over to listen for a while.

(As you're surrounded by girls, slowly explaining the tangled story of your time with Mizu, Mizu returns from her walk with Kaji to find the room empty of you.

She pauses, surprised by her own disappointment. She can't admit it to herself, but she had expected you to have shaken off the girls and be waiting for her. You're always there when she comes back. Something burns in the pit of her stomach to find you gone; after the heavy deal she just made, she has need of the comfort you bring her–not that she'd admit that to herself, either. The images of you, somewhere in the brothel at this moment, half-dressed and flustered, makes her stomach flip. But then she imagines you under some faceless nude woman and her throat tightens. She sits down with a thump in front of the mirror and removes her glasses, studying her own face critically. It must be nice for you to be seeing pretty women for once, instead of her…)

“But why him?” One finally asks, wrinkling her nose, as you pause for breath. She's in a pink kimono–you think the others might have called her Ise. “You're a pretty girl, even in disguise. You could do better. He's hardly a looker.”

Your head snaps up, frowning in offense. The girls giggle at your suddenly icy glare, all warning Ise to duck, and Ise dramatically throws her hands up in front of her defensively. “Alright, alright, don't get your sword in a knot. I'm just saying…”

A couple girls nod in agreement. “Those eyes…” one murmurs. The white-haired girl in the corner turns to glare at her as a few others titter.

“Like a demon,” another says with a shudder.

Your fingers clench against your thighs, brow darkening. “I think they're beautiful.” Your voice is quiet, but hard as stone; the girls all fall silent, looking at each other uncertainly. There's a world of emotion in your heavy tone; a sincerity that they know, better than most, is rare and precious.

It’s Ise that smiles, slowly, with a dark, wicked gleam in her eye. “Do you want an answer?” She asks you bluntly, making you forget your anger in confusion.

“To whether he wants you,” she clarifies with a sigh.

You hesitate. Do you? If the answer is no… gods, that will hurt. And you know in your heart that you won't stop holding out hope, even then. You'll stay. You'll keep loving her. So does it matter?

But what if the answer is yes?

Slowly, wordlessly, you nod, stomach clenching. Ise smiles wider, and reaches for your topknot. “I know a method that never fails.”

Mizu looks up when you slide the panel open a crack, brow plunged in a deep scowl.

“I said I didn't–...Oh.”

You duck your head, wordlessly apologizing, even though you’re not even sure why. She only looks marginally less annoyed, watching you come in and sit down against the wall. Ringo is there, too, and he greets you brightly, looking rather pleased with himself. His kimono is slightly askew.

“Where have you been?” Her tone is sharp, her eyes sharper, as she takes in the tousled hair and haphazardly tied clothing on you. The girls had agonized over exactly how much to tousle you. That had honestly taken up the most time.

You shrug a little sulkily, keeping your eyes down. Part of you wants to abandon the idea, now that you've gotten snapped at–is it worth the risk of antagonizing her?--while part of you is still upset at getting left behind again. But the thought of Mizu picturing you doing… that…is making you blush yet again. Ise had explained what they were going to imply you did, which gave you a mind full of images that you know will probably haunt you worse than they haunt their intended target. What if Ise was messing with you? This is never going to work, you're already botching it by getting flustered.

In your mind, your avoidance is a dead giveaway that you're being shady…but to Mizu, the tousled appearance and shamefaced blush give exactly the impression Ise planned, and her fingers clench again, until the knuckles crack. Her lips tighten and thin, but she says nothing further, turning back to the mirror with a faint huff. Silence descends, but there’s a strange tension to the air that even Ringo notices. He glances between you two, gaining the worried expression that always makes you want to immediately reassure him.

“So, how much of my money did you spend?” Mizu abruptly spits at you, as though she's finally thought of an excuse to be angry. There's an unusual amount of venom behind her tone, harsh enough that Ringo’s eyes widen and he sits up a bit straighter, while you shrink in on yourself a bit. Wordlessly, still avoiding eye contact, you reach into your haori and pull out of the money pouch, tossing it to her.

She can tell as soon as she catches it that you haven't spent a single coin. “...Hm,” she says again, heat immediately bleeding out of her voice as her expression lightens. She surveys your disheveled appearance again, quirking an eyebrow.

“So why are you–” she starts, before there's another knock at the door. The panel slides open a crack as Mizu heaves a loud sigh of exasperation, her eyes rolling.

But before she can reiterate yet again to leave her alone, two girls’ heads poke in, and they aren't looking in her direction. They're whispering and giggling, completely unprofessionally, nudging each other, and staring at you.

“That's him,” one points.

“No! Is it really…?” The other gasps.

Both Mizu and Ringo turn to look at you, mirrored looks of confusion on their faces. Your expression is that of a dog facing down a speeding horse cart, unable to move, wide eyed. You regret agreeing to this; you want to sink into the tatami.

Their next whispers turn all three of you into statues.

“Ise says she finished three times…”

“Didn't even charge him…”

“He never even undressed–”

Ringo’s eyes and mouth all drop wide open, looking avidly between you and the door. Mizu is… frozen. Her face has taken on that blank expression that you've learned has all the safety of a rumbling mountainside. You don't dare shift an inch, but you can't help but stare at her. Your eyes slide from her stricken face to her hands; they're slowly curling into fists. Is it… working?

More giggling from the hallway, and something thumps the panel. It sounds like there are more girls gathering in the hallway. Another head pokes in, gets pushed back, and more sounds of muffled tussling leaks into the room. It sounds like most of the girls in the teahouse are having a little too much fun with this; they're probably thrilled to get to act out a little.

“Don’t shove–”

“Let me see! I want a turn–”

“... haven't had an orgasm like that in forever–”

“I can't wait to have a good scream–”

Oh gods above. Your face is crimson. You should have expected that they would go straight to vulgarity. Ringo chuckles with surprised and impressed delight, thumping you on the shoulder with one wrist like a comrade. This is so embarrassing.

One of the girls, braver than the rest, managing to wrestle the others back, calls out, “Mr. Samurai, can we borrow your apprentice?” This produces an absolute cascade of giggles and more heads poke into the door again.

“Yeah, me next!”

“Only after me!”

“You don't need him tonight, right, Mr. Samurai?”

“We promise not to break him–”

Mizu finally moves, moving towards the door with a speed that actually makes your heart clench with fear for the prostitutes. They all fall back, a chorus of shrieks and yelps echoing in the hallway as she almost seems to abruptly materialize in front of them.

“We're busy.”

Oh.

Her voice is so frozen with fury that it's a miracle she doesn't breathe out icy smoke. It’s a tone you've only heard a handful of times, always followed by blood spattering across snow. You can feel that familiar twisting ache of mingled fear and arousal in your core that you've grown to associate with Mizu at her most deadly. But this time it's complicated by a second layer of blending; uncertainty–is she just irritated by these twittering women?--and hope, delicate, frail, slowly blossoming.

Is she…jealous?

She slams the panel closed hard enough that there's an ominous wood crunching noise.

Silence falls. You watch Mizu, warily, as she stands at the door, her fingers still white-knuckling the edge of the panel.

“Wow, what did you do?” Ringo demands. You turn to look at him, startled. You were so focused on Mizu's reactions that you almost forgot he was a second witness. “How does that even work?”

“U-uh…I…” Oh gods, what do you say? You didn't actually do anything! Your idea of arousing is Mizu standing over you after a spar, the tip of her sheathed sword digging into your throat, an icy, smug satisfaction in her eyes. What do normal women find titillating?

“Come on, you gotta tell me. I wanna get with prostitutes for free, too!” Ringo gives you puppy eyes. “How'd you do it without them finding out… you know.” He gestures at your clothing. “Was it your hands? Is that the secret?” He asks, holding up his wrists and looking at them worriedly, as though hoping that that isn't the answer. “Wait–” he squints at you. “Where did you even learn to do anything like that anyway–”

“No more questions.” Comes the snarl from the door.

You glance away from Ringo to Mizu.

She's still got her back to the room. Her shoulders are drawing up in a hard hunch, free hand clenching tight again. The rumbling from the mountain is getting louder. You're not sure whether you should be exulting that she actually seems bothered, or be worried about the upcoming danger if she pops. She's not usually the type to explode, but when she does…

You both fall silent, watching as her shoulders heave in one deep, steadying sigh, before she finally turns around. Her face is composed, back to its usual resting glare, and you feel a bit let down. Maybe she just found it all annoying. All that, for no real answers…

Ringo stays quiet long enough for Mizu to return to her seated position by the mirror, but you can see him fidgeting. Before long, he leans over closer to you. His voice is hushed, trying to be discreet. For Ringo.

“So was it a tongue thing, or–”

THUNK. Mizu’s fist strikes the lap table hard, hard enough to upset the elegant centerpiece. You both jump and turn to look at her, freezing in place.

“If you want to know so badly, go ask them yourself.” Every syllable burns, blue eyes blazing.

Ringo, undeterred as ever, leaps to his feet. “I will!” He chirps, padding quickly over to the door. There, he pauses, bowing to Mizu. “Thank you for the permission, Master.”

Mizu watches him leave, her glare never wavering. After the door shuts, she snaps her gaze back to you. Your heart beats a little faster, as ever, feeling that little tingle that comes with getting her focused attention.

“You.” She jabs a finger at you; you flinch. “You. Don't. Leave this room again tonight. And nobody but Ringo comes in. Got it?”

Oh gods, she's jealous, she has to be, she's actually–

Now probably isn't the time to be cheeky and point out that she didn't put herself on that list. You nod. You've never been so happy to be glared at before. She wants me here. With her.

“Of course,” you say. “That's fine.”

Her glare softens at your voice.

You can see the way her eyes flick to your mouth as you form the words, and your heart flutters again. It's real, it must be, oh gods above– no way that this is happening, no way– You open your mouth again, unsure what else to say, but wanting to reassure her, to tell her that here is the only place you want to be. But before you can do that, there's a knock at the door again.

Mizu’s eyes blaze. She actually growls this time, turning towards the door with the feral speed of the truly enraged.

“I said we're busy,” she snarls, whipping the door panel open hard enough that it rattles the entire wall.

You see her freeze, as a soft, delicate voice rings through the room. “May I serve you?”

A pit suddenly opens in your stomach at the absolute stillness in Mizu’s posture. Even from behind you can tell she's staring at the girl’s face. The voice is so pure, so sweetly feminine that you can picture the kind of face it must belong to; a perfect doll, sparkling eyes, symmetrical features, neat teeth behind full, petal-soft lips. No blemishes, no scars, no days of sweat and greasy hair after too long on the road. Your heart twists; finally, finally Kaji has found someone perfect enough to take even Mizu’s breath away, and your chance with her is gone.

Is this how your little trick made her feel? This pain in your chest must be karma come knocking. The second you're away from this brothel, you’re coming clean; you can always say they just wanted to prank her. But you won't leave her believing it truly happened. No more of this back-and-forth of jealousy–if it ever was that on her end.

But then maybe she won't care by then. And I would deserve that. This pain is wrong, it was wrong to bait her because you were too cowardly to be honest about your feelings. She may have given you moments of jealousy before but they were never intentional. And now–

Mizu takes a step away, turning away from the girl towards you as she walks back to her previous seat. Her expression makes you pause on your internal journey of self-pity. It isn't lovestruck, or lustful. Not a flicker of a blush; she's all business. Her eyes seek yours out, a split-second look that you know all too well. The look that comes with a new, unexpected layer of trouble.

Your eyes flick towards the girl, now revealed as she steps into the room. She's as lovely as her voice would have suggested, tiny, exquisitely made up. But it's not your accurate prediction of her perfection that makes you freeze just as Mizu had. It's that you know her, from that bridge in Kyoto. As before, your every memory of that trip is seared in.

You don't dare try to catch Mizu’s eye again; this might be a problem, but for the moment, the girl clearly doesn't realize her hand has been revealed.

Just like that, the jealousy and pining take a backseat, as they so often have on this shared journey. Once again, you and Mizu are a united front, dealing with a new threat.

And through the chaos that quickly devolves around you, clarity comes to you. You didn't need to play this charade. All this time, all the worrying about who feels what, when that look Mizu shot you a moment ago says it all. In the moment where things got serious, upset with you or not, she trusted you to understand immediately. In the moment of trouble, she looked towards you.

–

When she comes back from her mysterious task, you're waiting in the hallway, too restless to stand Ringo’s chatter and Akemi’s sniping. Akemi had heard it all, of course, in the women’s dressing room, and she wasn't going to pass up an opportunity to needle you, since she couldn't seem to needle Mizu effectively. You don't doubt she'll blurt the whole sorry tale out to Mizu at her first opportunity, and standing in the dark in the hall leaves you with little to do but fret about that.

It hasn't been as long as you would have expected, when she comes back.

You look up at the quiet footfall, and pause, heart clenching at the sight of her face in the shadowy hall. Mizu pauses, too, stopping a little distance away from you, as if afraid to get too close. She's carrying her hat under her arm, and her face looks…gods. You've seen her furious, cold, exhausted, conflicted, even amused.

This is something else, something worse than anything you've ever seen. She looks bereft, hollowed out, her eyes staring ahead as though looking at some horror no one else can see.

In that moment, you move without thought of rejection. Something in her face just calls to you, more deeply than words, drawing you together like magnets.

You push off the wall and step up to meet her.

“Mizu…?” You keep your voice as soft as you can. She doesn't raise her eyes. Instead, you can see the lids lower until they fall shut.

Slowly, you reach up to cup her face; you expect her to push your hand away, but you would have tried anyway. It’s your heart reaching out to touch hers in the only way you can, and it cannot be suppressed. In this moment, even though it's the closest you've ever been, you're not thinking about wanting her, only wanting to soothe her. Strange that your first moment of deeper intimacy should come from this clear pain, surrounded by the trappings of lust itself.

She doesn't fight you. When you bring your hands to the sides of her head, slowly pulling the glasses away, she lets you guide her face down to you, until her head is resting heavily against your shoulder. Her arms remain at her sides, hanging limp. When your hands cradle her head, her hair, she shudders violently for a second with a little choke, remembering the way she cradled another head, and then subsides.

You stand that way for a long time, in utter silence, utter stillness. The only movement is a very faint shivering that suffuses her frame. She's breathing slowly, with an exaggerated evenness as though deliberately forcing herself to do so. Your mind is racing; what on earth could have produced such a response?

Mizu… what did you do.

You already know you aren't going to ask, and make her relive it. Maybe someday, if she wants to unburden herself… but it doesn't matter now. It doesn't really matter at all; you know there's very little you wouldn't forgive her for. And you could see the regret in her eyes, that no matter what heinousness produced this, she feels no peace in the aftermath.

“It was a girl.” You can barely hear her.

“What?”

“I killed a girl tonight.”

Your heart constricts at her quiet voice. She says it tonelessly, unemotional, but you can feel her shoulders tensing under your hands. To her, this is the moment; you, seeing the monster that she is, pulling away, refusing further comfort.

“A girl?”

A faint shift of her head against your shoulder that might be a nod. A chill runs through you; she feels your shudder and braces for the shove, the exclamation of horror.

“Was it…necessary?” You ask slowly, instead, trying to understand. You've never known Mizu to kill an innocent before. There must have been a reason.

You can feel the way the question strikes her, unexpected. When was the last time anyone asked her about why she does what she does?

“...I don't know,” she says bleakly, her voice cracking.

Another long silence; the shoulders grow even more tense. She almost seems to stop breathing. You turn your face to her hair, silently, and feel her body go loose again. There's nothing you can say to fix this; only offer your steady presence.

“... Thank you.” This time the voice has a hoarse, shaky edge. You make a questioning noise, your fingers stilling. You hadn’t realized you'd been stroking her hair.

“For not…pulling away.” Her voice is growing quieter and quieter with each word; she turns her face harder into your shoulder, as though she can hide her vulnerability along with her face. “For not… thinking ill of me.”

“Never.” Your whisper is vehement, your fingers tightening against the back of her head.

“You should.”

You pause; the contrast of her gratitude and disapproval flummoxes you for a moment. You have no recourse but to be honest.

“I knew what this path would be when I chose to follow. I will not reject you for following your ember.”

You're shocked to hear a faint sniffle before she straightens, and even more shocked to feel wetness cooling on your shoulder. She hadn’t made a single sound of weeping; not a sob, not a hitch of breath. You saw no tear slide down her face.

Her expression is a different story; as stoic as ever but for those red-rimmed, haunted eyes. She’s still staring into the middle distance, unfocused. At the sight of her, your resolve snaps; you blurt it out. You can't fix this pain killing her inside now; you can only right the wrong you had done earlier.

“It didn't happen.”

“Mm…?” she looks at you, finally, but it's as if she is seeing someone else.

“The… the girls,” you stumble on your words for a moment. You want to be honest about what happened, but now doesn’t feel like the time to confess love, not when she's so wreathed in this empty sadness. You settle on, “I didn't do anything with them.”

She blinks, starts to focus a tiny bit. “Then they-…and you never…”

You shake your head.

She blinks, then blinks again. She doesn't look immediately relieved, at least not straightforwardly, but she looks strangely more alert. It's as if the weight on her shoulders was heavier, but it was a weight she was more willing to tolerate. Her brow pinches as she seems to think of something.

“I'm…sorry you had to look through those holes,” she says finally, staring down at your feet. Her voice is soft, barely above a breath. “You're… not meant to see all of this.”

“It wasn't so bad,” you reassure her. “I can handle it.”

She shakes her head impatiently.

“This isn't how you should be seeing…I'm…supposed to–…” She stops, looking confused by her own words. You stare at her in surprise. Supposed to what? Protect me? That would be a departure indeed from her constant insistence that you are here of your own free will, that she isn't responsible for you, that she isn't your protector… and so on.

You laugh a little, warmly. It's not funny, any of this, but there's a tiny bubble of something warm glowing in your chest, something that feels as though it's solidified between you, and the icy wall of uncertainty that plagues your every step has begun to trickle away.

“I can protect myself now, thanks to you,” you murmur, ducking your head a little to try to meet her gaze as she hangs her head. The next words are hard to say, but you want her to hear them. “And, truly…I don't think there's a better place in all of Japan than next to you.”

She looks up at you, eyebrows quirking up in surprise; it's the last sentiment she would expect to hear from anyone right now. The eye contact in this moment is lightning-sharp; a myriad of emotions run through her gaze, her face twitching through what looks like guilt, shame… and then a deeper, aching longing. The potency is as intense as every other emotion in her, and it arrests your very breathing.

You know. In that moment, you know; the trickle becomes a meltwater flood, soaking warmth through your ribcage. You’re pulled into the undertow of ocean eyes that glow in the cocooning darkness.

Her lips press together tightly as her eyes flick to your mouth as they did once, hours so. She looks suddenly lost; too emotionally overwhelmed by the events of the night to keep her walls up any longer. Distraction, validation, reassurance… human weaknesses she normally scoffs at. Tonight, her last rest before Fowler, before possible death, she'll let herself be human. She will seek comfort from someone that will touch her like she isn't a monster, confirm to herself that she can be capable of love, softness. That after her revenge, a happy life could be possible for her.

“I'm glad–...” her voice hitches as she leans closer to you, then sways back again, uncertainly. In the dark, her blush doesn't show, but the flustered expression is enough to make your heart suddenly race. “I'm glad that… you didn't. With them.”

You can't breathe. Your heart is in your throat; its rabbiting beat is making you shake so strongly with adrenaline that you have to force your teeth not to chatter. You've been waiting for so long, with never the slightest inkling of hope…

“...I am, too.” In the intimate darkness surrounding you, your whisper feels loud. Her gaze focuses in like a beam of burning light; your own expression says everything.

This time she steps closer again without flinching, and you feel like you might pass out. The hesitant look flickers across her again for a moment, before her brow suddenly furrows. You have a half second to recognize the familiar look of determination that precedes every risky move before there's a long fingered hand curling around your nape, and a pair of thin, sculpted lips on yours.

Oh.

It's as though every muscle in your body melts away in an instant. The second you lean into it with enthusiasm, you’re enveloped; her arms are like iron, clutching you tight. It's every bit as mind-numbing as you had fantasized; the taste of her lips is tea and copper, blood-hot as her tongue slips against yours. Mizu does nothing halfway. She kisses like she fights; overpowering, ruthless, clever and swift. Every twitch of reaction is caught and dragged free of you again and again as that famous adaptability is turned on you and achieving your pleasure. Her hands roam restlessly, mapping over the lines of your body, prompting a squeak when they suddenly squeeze tight, nails dimpling your flesh, before sliding on. You hope that every time her fingers sink in, there's a mark you'll see tomorrow, until she's littered every inch of your skin.

Your mingled breaths are loud in the silence of the hall. Your own hands are in her hair, slipping down her neck, reveling in the shift of the muscles in her shoulders; you can touch her now, you can touch her, she's kissing you, she wants you, gods above–

“Mizu…” You can't stop the soft whine, muffled by her lips; it thrills you to feel her shudder in response to it, her arms tightening around you with a hushed groan. The hand at the back of your neck grasps a hank of your hair like a handle, tugging your head to the side with accidental roughness. The pain sparks like flint against the heat building between your thighs, flaring it to a roar. Your little hiss is choked off by a gasp as she buries her face in your neck and inhales you, deep and greedy, indulging herself, before biting down hard on the soft skin below your ear.

Your grip on her shoulders tightens with a bitten-back cry, lust shooting through you like a grassfire. It runs molten between your thighs, softening your legs until your knees buckle–swift as an arrow, your world spins.

Your spine thumps into the support beam, her front molded to yours as she pins you against it; you can feel her heartbeat pattering against her bindings, the sharpness of her hipbones against your belly. Everything in your body pulses with one hard beat of desire; it thuds from your throat to your fingertips every time you hear that harsh inhale of her panting through her nose between kisses, the soft grunts of response to each slide of tongue and teeth. You don't notice your haori part until cool fingers slip along your ribcage. You flinch with a gasp, your back arching wanton and shameless into the touch. The husky chuckle at your ear makes your core throb so hard it hurts.

Your thighs tangle together without a care to your surroundings. “Ngh–” Another desperate, muffled groan vibrates against the side of your throat when you press your leg up between hers. Her hips spasm and buck, her groan fracturing into something soft and needy–“ah-...ahh”--breath puffing faster over your skin; there's a searing softness pressing against your thigh, already damp through the thick fabric of her pants. In response, the lean muscle of her own leg presses up between yours, hiking you higher against the wall until you’re spread across it, your own weight bearing you down against it with a cruel pressure to the very source of your ache. As you’re yanking her hair free with a high-pitched moan of her name–

The soft sssh-thnk of a door panel makes you both freeze.

“Master? Are you out here? I heard–...oh.”

Mizu slowly raises her head from your neck as you turn your head. Is this how you die? Of embarrassment?

Ringo’s eyes are like saucers; behind him, the faint sound of Akemi protesting spills out into the hallway as the three of you stare at each other in silence. “What? What is it? Ringo? Hey! Untie me! Let me see!”

Ringo opens his mouth, then closes it again. A wide, delighted grin slowly spreads over his face. Without another word, he slowly leans back into the room, shutting the panel behind him.

You both stare at the door for a minute. Akemi's complaints can still be heard from inside. Then you look at each other.

You giggle first, trying to stifle it, horrified at yourself as it bubbles free. “Sorry, s-sorry–” you hiss, more giggles escaping you, edged almost hysterical. It's not funny, at all, but you can't seem to stop.

Mizu watches you, perplexed at first, her mouth twitching as though she's not sure whether she should be laughing with you, or not. Finally she just sighs, too exhausted to give a damn, leaning her head on your shoulder again. This time you don't hesitate to wrap your arms around her, nuzzling into her hair as her own arms curl around you tightly.

It's not okay, nothing is okay, but, this… this is good.

Into the silence, a woman screams.

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strawb4kdior · 6 days ago

Text

𝘗𝘳𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘺 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴,

summary: You save her life and from there, it went all down hill.

pairings: Mizu x reader

warnings: angst, fluff, no nsfw

a/n: hellooo, this is long. i hope you enjoy!

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***

Red splatters upwards from your lips as you laid on your back on the snow. You can feel your back drench and cold. It’s not comfortable but who cares when you have a sword sticking out of your stomach.

“What did you do?!” It’s Mizu, she hovers above you, her hands shaking slightly at the sight of blood everywhere. You take notice, as you gaze up at her weakly, her orange lenses are no longer sitting on the bridge of her nose and you think, how beautiful her eyes are even as she’s crying.

Wait, why is she crying?

A pair of hands grab at your barley conscious face, forcing your body upwards into her arms and you feel yourself become limp. You hum softly in content knowing you will die in someone’s arms but Mizu isn’t just someone — you love her.

It’s a secret you kept from the samurai and you vowed to yourself to never reveal it once you realized. It was when you first spotted her walking the streets of your village and thinking to yourself, how odd. You remember watching her closely, her tall figure mysteriously hidden and guarded. What caught your eye was the sword hanging by her hip.

Taking the risk, you decided that it would be a great idea to approach her. Even if it meant putting yourself in danger. When you did, you can’t forget how her face looked baffled and confused.

She disliked you at first, it sucked because Mizu didn’t give you a chance of day. She kept her distance and made no sign of interest getting to know you. But you on the other hand did wonder about who she was. Who is Mizu? Where did she come from? Did she still have a father? Mother? Question after question, you almost got your hopes up. Then that completely changed when you first looked into those blue eyes and saw her naked body at the waterfall that one time.

You begin to see Mizu slowly lowering her guard around you, the woman even engaged in conversations between you and Ringo. Mizu could be mean, could be sarcastic, and a complete jerk but that sacred smile of hers always made up for it. But your favorite thing about her is when her blue eyes shine when she laughs at your stupid jokes.

Oh, how pretty she is.

Your tired eyes gaze up at her face again, you see those sad teary blue eyes staring right back at you, your fingers itch to smooth away the line between her brows.

You want to tell her not to be sad, to tell her this isn’t over and that all will be fine.

“…please, don’t you dare die on me…” Her voice sounds far away now.

Is this the end?

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***

The smell of tea wakes you up.

Eyes shoot open, quick to take in your surroundings and you see a dark sky. The crackling and popping comes from somewhere near you. You go to sit up but a loud groan escapes your lips instead, intense pain striking from your stomach.

“Don’t move,” the voice demanded coldly and you turn your head to look, finding Mizu cross legged on the ground beside you, her back facing towards you. “You’ll end up messing up your stitches.”

The fire in front of her dances quietly with the occasional popping.

You open your mouth to speak but your throat is dry and the taste of metal is on your tongue. Distracted by the pain from your stomach and a dry throat, a cup of hot steaming tea is presented in front of you. You don’t look Mizu’s way as it nears your lips helping you take small sips.

When you’ve had enough, feeling satisfied, you ask, “What happened?” Mizu scoffs, your confuse eyes move over to her when she does. You see that her back is facing towards you again. “Mizu?” Your tone is scratchy.

Mizu doesn’t answer. You huff in annoyance at her behavior and lay there silently. If she wants to play the quiet game then you’ll play the quiet game. Mizu did this anytime she was not in the mood but you spotted a difference. It was way too quiet and Mizu wasn’t moving an inch.

“Mizu.” You try again, concern lingering in your tone now. “What is it?” You should’ve known that was a stupid question to ask when Mizu stood up abruptly and turn around to face you.

“Are you stupid?” You flinch when she asks you. Her tone is harsh and she’s glaring daggers at you. You haven’t been in this position since you almost injured yourself by approaching a wild horse when you tried to impress Mizu. Not one of your proudest moments.

“Master.” Another voice cuts in, catching Mizu attention. Ringo appears from the right holding a bag of sorts and you watch as he sends his master a look that you can’t seem to understand. They stare at each other, almost like a staring contest. Eventually, Mizu huffs in defeat and excuses herself leaving off into the trees without another word.

“She’s upset with me.” You stated after a couple of minutes, staring at where Mizu has disappeared off to.

“Yes.” Ringo answered simply. He sets his bag down by his legs, his big hands fishing inside his bag. “You almost died.” Your breath hitch, what did he say?

That’s when everything came back. From jumping in front of Mizu to getting stabbed and ending it with you drifting off into the darkness. Your eyes stay on him, watching him move around the fire, prepping and humming softly to himself.

You still don’t understand. Still confused, you inform him, “Ringo, I saved her life. I really don’t understand-”

“You almost died.” Ringo repeats again like it means something. Like it’s supposed to mean something. Like its the most obvious thing in the world but when he looks up at you and catches you staring at him like an idiot, his lips curl up and he goes back to humming.

You groan at his antics and lay your head back down, staring up at the dark sky with a pout. You decide to shut your eyes and collect your thoughts. Even as the pain in your stomach is already distracting enough, you see a pair of sad blue eyes full of tears flash in your mind and you feel a different type of pain that didn’t come from your stomach injury.

It takes an hour for Mizu to come back.

“Master! Welcome back. The food is ready.”

Reopening your eyes, you pick up your head and see Mizu approaching Ringo who is already handing a bowl of noodles over to her. She accepts it and completely ignores you as she retakes her seat by the fire.

You feel hurt but you are distracted when Ringo approaches you with two bowls of noodles. He sets them aside and helps you sit up carefully so you are leaning back against a wall. You grunt quietly in pain and he then offers you a bowl with a pity smile.

You accept it with a quiet, ‘thank you.’

In silence, did you all eat.

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***

It takes one to two months for you to completely heal. That’s what Ringo tells you anyway. You try not to be too bothered by it and act like everything is fine, even if the pain can be unbearable sometimes. You don’t want anyone to assume you can’t continue on. But did it really matter when Mizu still continues to ignore you?

Yeah, she still upset. Two whole weeks of no words exchanged. Two whole weeks of Mizu being the biggest asshole. Two whole weeks of Mizu pretending you don’t exist. Two whole weeks and you feel yourself doubting that you ever had a chance to be with her to begin with.

You feel like you are waiting for something that’s not there. Everything you worked hard for to get a glimpse of Mizu has been thrown down a drain. You miss gazing into those blue eyes, it brought comfort in ways that you couldn’t explain. You miss the small touches and lingering looks, it felt like you lost her. There’s no hand offering you a chance anymore, it’s non existent.

Then Taigen comes back.

You don’t like him. You don’t like his personality or his attitude, or his appearance. There is nothing to like about him. Unfortunately, Mizu thinks otherwise. When he comes back you catch how Mizu lips form into a small smile, standing to her feet and greeting him in a soft tone. You have to force yourself to look away whenever his hand lingers in hers.

You and Taigen exchange a few greetings but nothing more. You figure Taigen knows about your feelings towards him whenever he tries to spike up a conversation and you leave him hanging. You won’t waste any time getting to know someone like him. Mizu might be okay with him being around but you aren’t.

“Are you hungry?” Ringo is offering you a rice ball as you both walk side by side while Taigen and Mizu walk ahead. You hear him yet your eyes are train on their hands, watching how they almost brush against each other’s and every time they might bump into one another, it leaves you grumbling underneath your breath.

“What are you saying?” You feel Ringo lean closer to you, his hand cupping his ear.

“Nothing.” You murmur, your lips formed in a frown. Ringo shrugs his shoulders and starts humming again, his feet waddling off ahead. You are left behind and you don’t mind.

You take the time to scan your surroundings, snow covered the ground like a blanket, animals hidden in hibernation and tall trees standing with a little sparkle of snow sprinkled on top. You think back when you were a little kid and how your uncle took you outside just to sit to admire what’s around you.

Speaking of your uncle, you thought back to how those summer nights ended with him drinking his sorrows away. You were young to see pass his harsh words and violent acts, you laid in bed at night wondering what could possibly turn him into that. What was it? Then you found out later as you grew, your uncle was in love but betrayed.

Would you end up drinking away your sorrows too? Get harsh and get violent because the one person you want is avoiding you like the plague? No, of course not. Your uncle took his last breath not knowing that true love came with a price.

“How’s that stab wound looking?” Taigen snaps you out of your day dreaming and you narrow your brows at him, irritated by him. “Mizu told me what happened,” He thinks to include which makes it worse because she can talk about you but won’t talk to you.

“It’s fine.” You give him little.

“Hm, you don’t look fine.” He points out.

You sigh again, turning your head away from him hoping he would leave you alone.

“Look, I know you don’t like me,” He starts making you groan. “I get if it’s because you care about Mizu feelings but she can handle herself.” You want to punch him. “Besides, she doesn’t need anyone by her side trying to defend her all the time. Like how you jump in front of-”

You don’t give him a chance to finish his sentence because you’re already excusing yourself to use the bathroom somewhere deep within the trees.

The snow beneath you crunches every step you take, you think angrily how he could so easily bring up something that meant everything to you. Even if Mizu did not see the incident as nothing, it still mattered to you. You risked your life for her. You would gladly do it again.

As you stop your feet, you glance around the forest and the color white is all that anyone could see standing here. Your hand comes down to the hem of your shirt, raising it and studying the healing wound. Your shaking fingers trace the outline, feeling its tender skin.

You don’t regret it. You remind yourself that you don’t care what anyone has to say about it. Yes, you were nearly killed but you’re alive, still breathing. Although, the pain in your stomach hurts terribly and the sight of it leaving you insecure, you can’t stop the tears from falling.

Are you crying about the injury or are you crying because you can’t stop seeing that flash of sad blue eyes peering down at you that day? You aren’t sure anymore.

You thought back to your uncle, is this how he felt? Did his mind flood with his lover? Did they fill up his mind until he couldn’t breathe anymore? It still hurts. Everything about this whole situation hurts and you aren’t sure if you can accept what’s happen, happened.

Then the sound of a branch snapping somewhere near by makes you jump and look around. You search around for the cause of the noise but find no one around. You take another long moment to collect yourself and made sure you aren’t red in the face when you arrive back with the others.

Unaware, a blue figure in the distant hides behind a tree, having watched everything unfold.

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***

A familiar grunt behind you makes you look over your shoulder away from the horses behind the gate and see Mizu standing there. She isn’t wearing her wide hat, her orange lenses or her cloak. Her sword however is still in its hilt wrapped around her hips.

“You should be resting.” Is the first thing that comes from her mouth. Internally, you are screaming because how dare she approach you after three and half weeks of not speaking to you.

You turn your body around, leaning your back comfortably against the gate and giving Mizu a dry look. You want to be the one to avoid her now and treat her how she’s been treating you but you aren’t childish. You won’t allow Mizu to make you fear from expressing how you feel. At least not about your love for her. Not yet.

“Now you talk to me.” Mizu makes a face, her eyes dangerously narrowing at you. You ignore it. “I mean, you really had me in a choke hold,” You laugh and it’s not a happy one. “You had me spinning around in circles trying to figure out why you were avoiding me and up onto now, I still have no fucking idea.” You sound harsh now. Your emotions are on sky rocket and you feel deep within yourself that you should probably keep quiet before your other feelings accidentally come out.

“What did I do?” Your voice broke when you ask and you didn’t intent to sound like that but you are tired and done. You need to know. You need to fix this. You need to keep Mizu by your side even if she doesn’t return your feelings. Having her as a friend is better than not having her at all. “Please, what did I do?”

The sounds of horses huffing and stomping behind the gate is all you can hear from behind you. Mizu seems to be choosing her words carefully, her eyes drawn to the ground and her fists at her sides, clenching and unclenching. You want to reach over and take her hand, squeeze it to reassure her that whatever it is, she can tell you. You can take it.

“You should go back home.” Her cold demeanor comes back and you are lost for words. “I don’t need you anymore. In fact, I don’t need you at all.” Mizu tells you, her eyes never meeting yours and looking right past you. “Go home, Y/N.” It’s the last thing Mizu says as she takes a step back, never once meeting your hurt expression.

Can you take it after all?

No. No, you can’t.

“You’re a fucking coward!” You spit out, hot tears streaming down your cheeks.

Mizu freezes in her steps.

“If you’re upset about what happened to me and you think it’s your fault, you’re even dumber than you look.” You continue on, your hands are shaking and your stomach hurts from trying to breathe through your tears. “I knew what I was getting into when I first met you. I knew,” You sniff, wiping at your eyes. “What I didn’t know was how you would treat me after saving your life-”

“I didn’t need you to do that!” Mizu cuts you off, spinning around and angrily walking up to you. You lean further back into the gate when Mizu is close enough that you can spot the tears forming in the corner of her eyes. “You nearly died in my arms! Can’t you get that?” You stare wide eyed, no thoughts in your head, only the feeling of shock. “I almost lost you and I can’t live with that. I can’t live in a world where there’s no you in it.”

It’s a confession without saying so much.

Your heart races fast inside your rib cage at her choice of words. Mizu was scared. Of course, you thought. How stupid can you be? She was only upset because you couldn’t see that. You were too preoccupied by your own feelings, you never thought that once Mizu could feel the same way. You think you might cry some more because you can feel it building in your throat.

“So, go home. I’ll feel better knowing you are safe home.” Mizu says dryly, turning around and going to leave you again. Except, this time, you aren’t going to let her. You had to do something and fast. So, your hand reaches out grabbing Mizu by her wrist, stopping her.

Mizu breath hitches, you can see how her shoulders tense up at your touch. When she looks down at your hand wrapped around her wrist, Mizu takes a second and at that instant, her blue eyes look up to meet yours. No words are needed exchanged between the two of you as you tug on her wrist towards you.

Mizu lets herself be brought closer, her body brushing against your own. Swallowing roughly at how close she is, your hand on her wrist slides up her arm, to her shoulder and to the back of her neck. Not once does Mizu shrug you off or look the other way — her blue eyes are watching your every move carefully. And when you risk taking a step closer, your chest fully pressing against her own, you struggle to maintain eye contact.

What should you do next?

“Y/N?” Mizu questions you, her eyes flickering between your eyes and down at your mouth, her tone below a whisper.

“Please don’t make me go.” It’s a plead.

Mizu wordlessly leans down, her nose pressing against yours. You freeze completely, the outside world around you becoming still. Mizu eyes flutter closed as she pushes against your nose some more, almost like she’s silently asking permission to kiss you.

Wait, what?

Her hands are tightly at your hips, squeezing and tugging gently. You think you may faint. You know she’s even more impatient when she moves her hands from your hips and up to cradle your face. Your face flushes deeply feeling her rough skin holding your face, gently guiding your lips near her desperate ones.

“Please.” Mizu finally breaks the tension.

You run your tongue over your dry lips and leaned forward connecting your lips with Mizu’s. Soft at first, two mouths slowly moving together, hesitant but sort of needy. You can’t help the small noises you make when her mouth opens a little wider, her tongue meeting yours. The kiss intensifies when Mizu starts moaning and drops her hands to your hips, pulling you tightly against her.

Unfortunately, you pull back with a hiss breaking the kiss. You don’t see Mizu chasing after your lips until she realizes why you pulled away, her eyes growing worry. “I’m sorry. I forgot that you’re still hurt.” Mizu apologizes, going to take a step back from you but you don’t let her.

“It’s okay, really.” You reassure Mizu, your arms tightening around her neck, not wanting to ever let her go. The dark haired girl huffs, mumbling something under her breath and you chuckle at her.

“What?” She says sounding half annoyed. Her pupils are blown and her hooded blue eyes are no longer light but dark.

“Nothing,” You smile brightly, leaning close to kiss the corner of her mouth.

Mizu blinks, her cheeks turning pink.

“Whoa.” Another voice cuts in.

Both heads snap to their right and see Ringo beside Taigen, standing only a few feet away. The two men stand there with their mouths hung open in disbelief.

Mizu, annoyed by their interruption, scolds at them with a sneer. She takes a step back from you, her hands lingering at your waist, when the two turn around and run off.

“Fools.”

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strawb4kdior · 7 days ago

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strawb4kdior · 8 days ago

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strawb4kdior · 8 days ago

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imagine finding these polaroids in a flea market

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strawb4kdior · 9 days ago

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hello!! Thank you so much for your works, I adore your fics!! I’m absolutely in love with ghost! and vampire!Caitlyn <3 the story in vamp!Cait is actually so intriguing and interesting to read, I binged all three parts in a row when I stumbled upon your blog!!

Since your requests are opened, what about something with werewolf!Vi? Anything is good, but I REALLY crave some angst for some reason. What about reader helping Vi prepare for/helping her during transformation? Finding damaged Vi after a full moon and helping her heal? Headcanons? Literally ANYTHING I love both Vi and the way you write monster!characters🙏🙏

ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴄᴀɴɪɴᴇꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ᴄʟᴀᴡꜱ

some short stories featuring werewolf!Vi x fem!reader

a/n: my first request done! This is sort of testing my angst skills because I’m not sure if it’s something I’m good at writing. The angst story is Growing Pains. Hopefully you enjoy it! Thank you anon🤍

C/w: violence? Not really. Blood, scratching biting, stuff like that. Smut at the end I couldn’t help it.

w/c- 3.4k

moon divider by @sisterlucifergraphics

First Meeting

Walking home alone was always scary. You worked late hours, and got out at eleven pm. If you didn’t need the job so badly, you would have quit by now. You sped past a group of creepy looking men and veered into an alleyway. It was a shortcut to your apartment. Not the best option, but the streets were almost empty anyways. You could hear the sound of liquid splashing as you stepped in puddles of water, oil, or whatever other mysterious liquids it could be.

Your steps slowed when you saw a stray dog sleeping in the alley. The poor thing is shivering. Feeling kind, you lifted the dog, which was a pretty rust color, and bought it home. By the time you get home, the dog has woken up. It stays in your arms though. Setting it down, you think about what to do. “Uhm…I don’t have any dog food…Let’s see…” you opened your refrigerator and looked around. “Hey!” The dog jumped up and snatched your last few strips of uncooked bacon, wolfing them down before you could do anything about it. “You little- whatever…you’re lucky you’re cute.”

You set up a makeshift bed next to yours for your new furry friend. You use some towels, an old couch pillow, and a t-shirt as a blanket. “Goodnight…oh. A name. You don’t have a name… hm..” you think on it some while staring at the dog. “Uhm…Ah! What about Rosie? Matches your color perfectly.” You then had a sudden burst of clarity. “You know, I’ve never seen a red dog before…oh well.” Too tired to think that hard, you cover yourself with a blanket and go to sleep.

You can feel the sun warming your cheek, and the light streaming in from the window. Thankfully, you don’t have anything important to do today. You can afford to sleep in a little. Being hugged and held close in bed felt nice. A strong arm against your waist, and the rising and falling of someone else’s chest was really quite soothing.

But you were single. You lived alone.

Screaming in horror, you flew out of the strangers grasp, backing up to the far side of your bed. A completely naked woman was in your bed. Her eyes opened slowly, and two tall ears on the top of her head twitched. “Why’d you move? I was comfortable.” She spoke. You could spot something large moving under your blankets too.

“Who the hell are you!? What are you doing in my bed!?” You tried to sound threatening, and like you weren’t afraid, but even as this stranger was laying down, you could see how strong she was. Her arms were huge. “You don’t remember?” She gets up, cornering you against the backboard. She leans in close, smirking at you like she’s gotten away with something. “I’m Rosie.” What?…

“Rosie? Wait but that’s my dog…” You didn’t understand at all, but who could blame you. You were face to face with a ripped, naked woman who appeared in your bed overnight. Not to mention her tall, dog-like ears, and fluffy tail-

oh.

“There’s no way…I…You can’t be.”

“Oh but I am. And I’m not your dog either.” She has fangs. They’re sharp, and one protrudes from her mouth. “But you were so tiny…Rosie was.”

“I’m not Rosie! Please never call me that again.” She finally pulls away from you. “My names Vi. Thanks for uh…picking me up I guess.” You were still extremely thrown off. “Uhm…you’re welcome.” Vi slips out of bed, exposing herself to you entirely. Her tail rests just above the ground, and her ears stand tall. “What are you?” You ask from sheer bewilderment. “I’m a werewolf. You know, we transform on full moons and go all crazy?”

“A werewolf? You were barely the size of a puppy!”

“That’s because I didn’t eat anything! We all get smaller if we don’t eat. I’m pretty big normally.” She sounds defensive over that. “Okay.”

“Where’s your bathroom?” She sounds more like she’s demanding than asking. “Hey this is my apartment, and you need to leave!”

“Hey I’m not going anywhere.” She replies firmly. “You adopted me right? this is my place now too.” You were about to protest, but when would you get the opportunity to live with someone like this again? Yet again see a woman as attractive in your whole lifetime. “Fine… Just don’t mess anything up.” Vi turns around, and looks rather surprised by your answer. “Actually? Thanks cutie.” You feel yourself short circuit. Her tail is wags a little. “No problem.”

Growing Pains

Vi was spiraling. Tonight wasn’t even a full moon, yet she could still feel the beast inside of her trying to claw its way out. She muffled her groans with her pillow, while her tail thrashed violently. She couldn’t wake you. Especially not for something as stupid as this. Her ears were pressed flat against the back of her head in shame. Vi could feel the seams of the pillow snap as she held it tighter against her face. She felt her fangs bare as she let out a guttural growl into the darkness. The tremors wrecked her body, and her mind. They told her to destroy. They told her to just let go of her inhibitions, and tear everything apart like the monster she was. Werewolves don’t lie in bed snuggling with humans like needy puppies, werewolves ate those humans whole.

As hard as she tried to be quiet, you rose anyway with a sleepy yawn. “Vi? Are you okay?” You shifted closer to her. You knew something was wrong as soon as you laid eyes on her. “No…fuck…” you could barely hear her voice. “Do you need some water? Or maybe I could uhm, fry some bacon if you want meat.” You were new to dating a werewolf. All you knew is that she went through a rutting period and that she transformed under full moons. Maybe eating meat helps her to not get so worked up. You didn’t know for sure, but you had to try something, so you crawled out of bed. “Don’t leave.” Vi huffed, looking at you like you were going to war.

“Aw, it’s okay… I’m just going to try and get something to help you.” You went to her side and leaned down to kiss her forehead. Vi whined when you left the bedroom. The apartment was silent and still. After getting her some pain pills and a glass of water, you were about to go back to the bedroom when you felt hot breath on the back of your neck. When you turned around, you were met with Vi’s crazed stare. She’s not fully turned, but her eyes tell you that your Violet is not in there right now.

“Vi?… hey, I got you some medicine…” She’s breathing hard on your face. “Do you want to go lay down?… Oh Vi.” You feel so helpless. Her pain is foreign to you, and you don’t know how to help her. One of her hairy hands crawls up your cheek. You can only stay still and hope she won’t snap. You’ve been through this before. You have scars from her claws to prove it. Vi always feels guilty after going through spells. When she sees your scars, she breaks down in tears. The Vi in front of you right now is barely keeping herself together. Her claws brush against your face as she leans in closer. You’re frozen in fear. You know what she’s trying to do. The laser focus on your neck tells you. Her position has you caged against the wall, and she’s using her body weight to keep you still. She’s trying to kill you.

She growls softly, and your feel her teeth on your neck. If she bites you too hard even once, you’re dead. The pressure on your neck starts to gradually increase. Vi’s saliva is dripping onto your skin. She’s hungry, and you’re the only human in sight. Like a frightened rabbit, you can’t move. “Vi please..” you plea. Her hands move to your waist, and she holds you still tightly. Her claws start to leave indents in your skin, and one even draws blood. “Vi stop! That hurts!” You beg pathetically. She’s completely dissociated. No one can save you now. When you start to cry, Vi freezes. Before a sob leaves herself. “I’m sorry…” She whimpers. Her arms stop holding you, and instead pull you into a hug. She starts to cry. “I almost killed you… I’m a monster!” This is the most vulnerable you’ve ever seen her. She’s fully broken down. “I don’t deserve you, I don’t deserve anyone! I keep hurting you!” Her tail is drooping and so are her ears. “When I’m not in my right mind I just want to devour you.” Her hands move frantically as she tries to explain herself. “You’re just so kind to me. You’re too good for me… I don’t know why, but when I switch forms my love is always replaced by the urge to just…hurt you.” You’re still crying from the shock of what just happened to you. “You’d taste so sweet. Killing you would be so easy. You’re so delicate…I’m sure of that. You’re tender.” She hugs you tighter. “Fuck… That part of me wants to so badly…”

“Violet…” You call her name. “You should leave me. Before I lose control. If I ever did that to you, I could never forgive myself.”

“I couldn’t leave you! Vi please don’t say that!” She pushes you back against the wall, knocking your breath out of your chest. “Don’t you see what I am!? What I’m doing to you!?” Her teeth are bared, and her ears are flared. When she realizes how hard she pushed you, she falls to her knees. “I’m sorry! Don’t look at me, just go.” You take a moment to gather yourself before you join her on the ground, and hug her. “I know you don’t want to hurt anyone. It’s okay, Vi. I’ll always be here for you.” Despite Vi’s tears, her tail is thumping on the ground. “One day, I might just haul off and do something I’ll regret. I have no control. I’m a monster. You deserve better than a beast like me.”

She’s refusing to be consoled. All you can do is hold her there on the floor. “Take these.” You give her the medicine and water. After she takes it, you kiss her head, which earns her tail a few thumps. “Can you maybe learn to control your urges?” You suggested. “I honestly have no clue. I’ve never encountered someone like me before. Ever. And every quack I’ve been to before didn’t help.”

“Well, I was going to wait to surprise you, but I think we both should talk about it now.” You took her furry hand in yours. “I’ve been saving money, and-”

“No…” Vi groans. “You shouldn’t spend anything on me. Not when you still need that money.”

“It’s fine. I’m doing fine.” You said, ignoring the practically crumbling apartment around you. “ I uhm… found this doctor on the topside. It’s a little expensive, but I’ve only heard good things about him. I already got you an appointment soon…surprise!” You said that last part a little deflated. Vi just looks at you with her lips parted. She hugs you tight and takes in the scent of you. “Why would you do that?..” she sniffles. “Thanks babe…”

Her Very Own Nurse

Morning was peaceful. It was a full moon last night, so Vi decided to leave your apartment for the night. “I might hurt you. Again.” Was her reason. You were sitting at your counter, eating a small breakfast when someone pounded on the door, making you jump out of your seat. When you looked through your peephole, you opened the door immediately. “Vi!” Your girlfriend practically fell into your arms. She looked awful. Her makeup is running down her face, and she’s littered in cuts and bruises. “Oh my god-what- Vi, what happened!?” You manage to get her on your couch, and prop her head up with some pillows. “Vi?” She’s barely conscious. “Ugh…I got into a fight…some drunks tryna hunt me…” She drags one blood stained hand down her face. “It’s okay. Uhm, wait here…” you go back to the kitchen and look around for your first aid kit. You get back to Vi and look her over. There’s a spreading blood stain under the thigh area of her pants. That needs to be tended to. “Excuse me…” You unbuckle her belt, and pull down her pants. She grunts in pain. “Miss me that badly?” She jokes. Her voice is only a weak croak, but at least she’s acting like herself. “Yeah, I guess I did.” Sure enough, she’s injured badly on her thigh. “Sorry…” you murmur as you dip a cotton ball in some alcohol, and dab it on her thigh.

Vi moans loudly in pain. You wince. “Sorry! I have to disinfect it. You can hold my hand if you want.” Vi looked at you like you said something incredibly stupid, but she grabs your hand anyways. You go back to clean her thigh, and she squeezes your hand tightly. Another pained sound comes from her lips. You feel a little flustered just listening to her. You shouldn’t be thinking that way because she’s currently in pain, but it just sounded so lewd. Vi notices your expression and shakes her head. “Seriously?” You press the cotton ball down again, earning a “shit!” From your girlfriend.

“Okay, all done.” You reassured her. As you bandage her thigh, Vi lulls her head to the side and smiles at you. “I really don’t deserve you.” You laugh gently and shake your head. “No, don’t say that…” you lean in and kiss her lips softly. “Would you like some pain meds?” She nods. Her tail sways softly. You get two pills and some water, and bring them to her. Vi’s ears stand at attention as she watches you.

“I’ve been thinking…” Vi starts. That’s never a good way to start a sentence. “About what?” You set the glass down and give Vi the pills, then the water. “I hate being a burden to you. Making you do all this stuff for me. I don’t even want to think about how many time’s I’ve scratched or bit you.” She looks sad. “So, do you really want to stay with me? Don’t just say what I want to hear, be honest.”

“Violet…” you reach out and rub her head. Her ears lower to make space. “Of course I want to stay! I’d never leave you just because it can get hard sometimes… you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” Her tail is wagging faster. She looks a little embarrassed by it. You notice regardless, and giggle at her expense. “You’re just a big puppy. What’s not to love about that?”

In a Rut (smut)

You knew Vi was in her rut when she woke up that morning. You were making a quick breakfast when she wrapped her arms around your waist from behind, and buried her face in the crook off your neck. “Vi?”

“Hm?” You can feel her tongue gently prodding your neck. She likes to lick you during times like this. That usually tells you all you need to know. “I’m sorry, you know I can’t help you. I have work today.” she groans, and her ears flop against her head. “You could afford to be a little late…” she murmurs against the skin of your neck. “I really can’t…today’s important.” Vi held you tighter. She was feverishly warm. “I’m sorry, I really am. I promise I’ll help when I get home.” You assure her as you leave for work.

Vi gets flat out needy if you leave her waiting for too long. When she’s rutting, she’s the most vulnerable person you’ve ever seen. You got home at around five in the evening, after insisting a friend swap shifts with you. You told them it was an “urgent matter with your girlfriend.” Which wasn’t a total lie. Vi is on the couch, ears flat and tail wagging violently. “Vi? I’m home. Are you okay?” She groans, and buries her face into a pillow. “If it’s that bad, I could help now. I don’t have work tomorrow.” Vi perks up at that. “Really? You’re free all day tomorrow?” Her tail gives her excitement away. You nod. “Yes, so go easy on me. We have the entire day.”

Vi carried you to the bedroom without missing a beat. She put you down on the bed and crawled on top of you. “Vi!” You chided as she hastily lifted you shirt, not even bothering to take it off. She tore your bra off to hungrily suck on one breast. She was desperate. You could hear her tail thumping against the mattress, and felt her tall furry ears occasionally brush over your face. Vi’s always extra mouthy during her rut. She’s always licking you or sucking on somewhere. You’ve boiled it down to a possessive thing.

She struggles to take her time with you. You’ve always wondered what it’s like to be so unbearably horny. Vi is making quiet sounds of desperation as she rushes to strip your bottom half. Seeing her like this is enough to turn you on. She doesn’t even take off your panties. She just pushes them aside and starts to lick you feverishly. Your thighs try and shut from just how sudden it is, but Vi doesn’t allow that. Her furry hands hold your legs down, and she continues to lap at you eagerly. It’s messy. She’s not trying to be neat at all. Two fingers enter you hastily, and Vi relishes in the view. “Oh shit… You’re taking it so well Arent’cha?”. You freak out at first, squirming and writhing, but it looks like Vi has trimmed her claws.

Once she thinks she’s done enough, she sits up and removes her fingers. “Sorry about being so aggressive…can’t help it..” she mumbles as she undresses herself. Once her shirt is off, you can’t help but drool at the sight of her. The thin fur on her arms and chest was something you oddly enjoyed. Especially the thicker trail of fur that led to her pussy. She catches you staring and removes her boy shorts with a grin. “Like what you see?” She settles herself on top of you, leaning closer to your face. “You know I do.” You rubbed her head. Vi steals your lips in a kiss, and starts to grind herself on your saliva coated mound. Every moan and whimper you make slips into Vi’s mouth. Her tongue explores every crevice of your mouth, which she already knows so well. Your hands wander up her neck to her head. Once you brush her ears, she starts to move her hips faster. You know they’re sensitive, and you like to take advantage of that. You tease them a little more, rubbing up and down before pinching the tips between your fingers. Vi releases you from the kiss and nestles her head into your neck, whimpering and moaning. You know she’s close when she starts to bite you. It’s a good thing she cut her claws because her fingers are digging into your hips. Her teeth graze your neck in a possessive nibble as she chases both of your releases.

Vi’s whole body shudders when she comes. You can only squirm beneath her as you ride your own high. You can feel her body relax on top of you. Her breathing slows, and her ears twitch slightly. “I love you…thanks for sticking with me. I know I can get difficult.” She says breathily. “Don’t worry about that. I love you too.” Her tail wags sloppily. “It’s so cute when you do that.” Vi looks embarrassed. “I can’t help it.” She rolls you both over so you’re lying on your side, with her in view. “Do you feel better?” Vi nods. “I’ll probably need it again tomorrow… it’s my rut after all…”

“I don’t mind.” You say with a grin. Vi rolls her eyes and feigns annoyance. “You little minx. Of course you don’t mind.” Vi pulls you closer and presses a kiss to your forehead. “I really fucking love you.”

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