#*I will never give up the happiness I have (ic)*

[whorelaud]

꒦꒷ 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 untouchable ¡

pairing experienced¡roommate¡rafe cameron x innocent¡reader

sunmary rafe guides you through your first masturbation after you told him you've never touched yourself before, his offer tempting you in ways you've never experienced before. your curiosity grows as well as your desire, leading to an intimate moment that changed things between you two.

contains smut! first time masturbating, guided orgasm, fingering, lots and lots of kissing, dirty talk, nipple play, needy reader, player rafe, hes a tease!! he also interrupts reader, uhh thats ab it (i think). wc; 4.2k

a/n hi !! this took two days to write and at least 1-2 months to get out of my notes blaahhh hope you enjoy!!!!

“Have you ever had someone go down on you?” 

You choked out a snort of disblief, taken aback by the question. Rafe, who was seated inches away from you, chuckled, turning his head in your direction, causing the smile on your face to instantly vanish. 

He wasn’t joking. 

You cleared your throat, feeling heat crawl past your neck, until it eventually settled on your face. You’ve had your fair share of embrassing moments with your roommate, but this? You wanted the ground to split and swallow you whole, too ashamed to respond. 

Truth be told, you’ve never involved yourself in any sexual activities, let alone had someone go down on you. Hell, you’ve barely ever touched yourself before, brushing off your random bursts of arousal whenever you were sexually frustrated

So, the question here was, how were you supposed to tell him that? Reveal that you were a virgin at heart, and that you’ve never had someone touch you intimatly; not that you’ve done it. 

You were painfully aware of how experienced Rafe was, with the latter informing you all about his hookups; and that was besides the amount of girls he brought over. The walls were thin enough to give everything out, their loud moans and whimpers echoing through your ears. In conclusion, you didn’t need him to break down what he was up to. 

“Not that I remember.” You muttered, brushing off the question. 

“What?” He cocked his head to the side, snatching the spoonful of ice cream from your hold. “Who doesn’t remember getting eaten out?” 

“People are busy, Rafe.” You scoffed, licking the drop of ice cream off your thumb. “Not everyone has the time to fuck around.”

“You’re not busy,” he muffled out, tossing the spoon back in the tube of ice cream on your lap. “You don’t go out, all you do is lay around the whole day, then proceed to complain over the fact that you did nothing all day.”

You rolled your eyes, faking an annoyed expression at his words. Rafe adjusted his position, manspreading on the sofa, until his knee was hovering over yours, the contact ceasing the distance between you. 

“I mean, come one…” he trailed off, tone slightly teasing. “I’ve never seen you bring anyone over, are you really not interested in any of that stuff?” 

“How about you mind your business?” You huffed, feeling your ears burn with heat. “Why do you wanna know so bad?” 

“What?!” He defensively shot back, “I’m jus’ curious, besides, you never tell me anything, it’s always me talking.” 

“It’s ‘cause there’s nothing to tell you,” you mumbled under your breath, avoiding Rafe’s gaze. “There, you happy?”

Silence seeped through the air, atmosphere heavy with tension. Rafe‘s lips parted with disbelief, speechles by your blunt response. That was… new, you never brought up your sexual life to the latter before, so to think you were admitting to being a virgin over a silly argument struck Rafe to his core. 

"You're not like, serious or anything, right?” He attempted to laugh it off, smile fading when your expression remained the same. “Shit, you’re being serious.”

Your gaze settled on your hands in your lap, too embarrassed to glance over at Rafe, whose eyes burned holes through your flesh. You could envision the look of disbelief on his face, not having to look to know that he was shocked. 

“Why are you surprised?” You giggled, brushing off the heavy tension seeping through. “You said it yourself, i’ve never really brought anyone over.” 

“I was messing,” he swiftly replied, “I didn’t think you were you know… a virgin.”

“Okay, if you word it like that…” You tilted your head to the side, a tight-lipped smile spreading across your lips. 

“Have you never like, engaged in anything?” Rafe muttered, trying to play off the question as something casual, though you knew it wasn’t. “You know, never gave a guy a blowjob before?” 

Nothing about your roommate asking if you’ve given a guy a blowjob was casual. 

“No.” You shook your head, a snort escaping your throat. 

“You’ve kissed someone before though, right?” He asked, voice lowering with hesitation. 

“I’ve kissed someone before.” You exclaimed, leaning your head back on the sofa. “You already knew about that.” 

“You did tell me,” he nodded his head, “Have you never like…”

“What is it now, Rafe?” You question, teasing hinted through your tone. “Why are you investigating me?”

“‘M not; jus’ curious.” He muffled out, voice barely above a whisper. “Have you never pleased yourself?”

“What?” You ask, coming to a halt. 

The question filled with temptation, something you both chose to avoid for the sake of your friendship. Rafe always playfully flirts with you, using every chance he could to tease you. Those usually end in you brushing it off, not thinking too much of it. 

However, this was personal. He was asking questions that shall be private, not for him to hear, nor know about.  

“Have you never touched yourself before?” He elaborated, gaze flickering to your lap. “You’ve touched yourself, right?” 

You remained silent, blinking far too many times for your liking. You fidgeted with the rings hugging your fingers, busying yourself with the movie displayed on the tv, now long forgotten with the ongoing conversation. 

“Fuck.” Rafe muttered under his breath, throat going dry. “That’s so…” 

“Embrassing,” you cut him off, playing off your embarrassment. “I know.” 

“It’s hot; somehow turns me on,” he corrected, continuing his statement. “Knowing you’ve never touched yourself before.” 

Your head shifted in his direction, a flustered expression spreading across your face as you felt heat settle on your cheeks. You swallowed around your throat, mouth gaping to speak, met with utter silence in return. 

Shivers ran down your spine, the sensation like feathers on your skin. Rafe’s blank expression made things worse, displaying how serious he was being. He wasn’t fucking around, even with how swift the conversation took a turn. 

“Shut up,” you mumbled, clearing your throat. “Quit messin’ around.” 

“Did that get you?” Rafe choked out a giggle, easing the tension between you. 

“That wasn’t funny!” You huffed, lightly shoving his shoulder. “Don’t joke around like that.”

“I mean,” he said, teasingly fidgeting with his tongue. “It wasn’t a joke, but–”

“Rafe!” Your face heat up, flustered expression spreading across your face. 

“Sorry!” He chuckled, drifting off for a moment. His gaze trailed down your body, a sly smirk finding his lips once again. “You need help? I’ll guide you through it.” 

You paused, considering his suggestion for a moment, even if he meant it as a joke. Your lips quivered into a thin line, feeling your throat dry up when his hand found your bare thigh, action teasing, tempting you in ways that were forbidden. 

And before you got time to process the gesture, he grabbed the ice cream tube from your lap, instantly scooping a bite with the spoon inside. It took you a moment to catch on with what he did, attempting (and failing) to snatch it back from his hold. 

“Hey, that’s mine.” You muttered, gaze shifting up to Rafe when he stood to his feet. 

“What’s mind is yours, remember?” He winked, walking backwards to maintain eye contact with you. “We both pay the bills around here.” 

“I paid for that, though.” You argued, mimicking the latter’s action as you followed in his steps. 

“From whose wallet?” He reasoned, causing you to go quiet. 

Right, you did steal ten bucks to buy that from him; though the boy didn’t mind. 

Your shoulder relaxed, defeated by the boy’s response as you watched him enter his room, letting the door shut behind him. 

That was that.

Later that night, you found yourself slipping under your convers, tempted by Rafe’s words from earlier. Your hands traced down your body, halting around the sliver of skin in between your shirt and shorts. 

Your fingers toyed with the waistband of your shorts, teeth digging through your bottom lip as your hand tumbled beneath the thin cloth, the sensation of your cold fingers brushing over your heat sending shivers throughout your body. 

Your digits lightly traced over your heat, sliding down your folds, inaudible gasp escaping your throat when you noticed how wet you’ve gotten from earlier. Rafe’s words echoed through your ears as your eyes fell shut, imagining him guiding you through your masturbation with his words, the thought spiraling pleasure through your body.

You collected your juices with your fingers, gasping as you traced them back to your clit, the sensation overwhelming you whole. You started off with slow rubs to your cunt, letting your pleasure build up within every touch you committed to. 

You imagined Rafe’s hand instead of yours, rubbing your clit while he whispered praises to your ears. The thought washed guilt over you, aware you were going to regret your pathetic thoughts once the pleasure wears off. 

Imagining your roommate going down on you was your last predicament tonight, yet, here you were, touching yourself while pretending it was Rafe, his words never leaving your mind. You would’ve been down for whatever, the least he could’ve done was push through with his teasing, and you would’ve gladly accepted it. 

But he didn’t, and that made you want him even more. The idea of not being able to have him, not even for a moment, because it was forbidden. You were well aware of that, barely holding back before, whether Rafe stood too close, or said something tempting. 

“Hey, uh, have you seen my green–” Rafe burst through the door, freezing in his tracks once he noticed the state you were in. “Sweatshirt?” 

The covers weren’t much of help, as Rafe instantly realized what you were doing. He gulped, feeling himself twitch in his pants, as his fingers clutched around the doorknob. You immediately jumped out of your position once you spotted him, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. 

Your eyes trailed down to his torso, feeling heat crawl to your face when you noticed his bare chest, out on display. Right, that was a norm, you should’ve been used to it by now.

“What the fuck, dude?” You shot back, heavy breaths escaping your throat. “Can’t you knock?”

“Hmm?” He hummed, too hazed up to process what you were saying. “Right, sorry, I– I should’ve knocked.”

You felt so exposed under his gaze, tugging your bottom lip with guilt as you caught sight of his face. Maybe that was meant to happen, a sign that you shouldn’t have crossed the invisble line you created, pleasing yourself over the thought of your best friend. 

“What do you need?” You muffled out, gulping when his eyes flickered down to your lips. 

“Well, I was jus’ asking if you’ve seen my sweatshirt, but…” He trailed off, a slight smirk tugging at his lips. “You seem busy.” 

“I was sleeping.” You replied, though the excuse was not much help. “You– you interrupted.”

“Clearly,” He cocked his head to the side, seeking your gaze with his own, a desperate exhale escaping his parted lips when your eyes wouldn’t meet his. “I’ll leave you to it, then…”

He trailed off, hinting something with his tone. He hesitated to leave, still clutching into the door handle while he stared at you, waiting for you to at least say something, stop him before he does anything stupid and ruin your friendship in the process. 

However, you didn’t, leading the latter to shut the door, the gesture causing you to wince. You gulped, observing as Rafe came to a halt, his back to the door, with his hand yet wrapped around the doorknob. His lips parted with an exhale, fingers finding his jaw as he busied himself with his chin. 

And if you didn’t know him any better, you would’ve thought he was nervous. But he wasn't. You knew Rafe, he was your roommate, after all. 

“What are you doing?” You questioned, voice low enough he could barely hear you. 

Rafe remained silent, leisurely approaching you with haste. Your gaze followed his every move as he came to a halt around the edge of the bed, now towering over you. You fluttered your eyes up at the latter, breath hitching when you noticed the look of despair on his face. 

His fingers hovered beneath your chin, thumb slightly tracing your bottom lip, the fraction causing your mouth to part. He tilted your head with the fingers around your jaw, cursing under his breath once he caught sight of your hazed state, too far gone to comprehend your surroundings. 

“You need help with that?” He questioned, gaze flickering to the shorts that hung low on your waist, able to see them now that he was in your presence. 

“Huh?” You questioned, vision going blurry when his thumb grazed over your teeth. “What do you mean?”

He groaned when your tongue darted out, licking a stripe of his finger, the gesture bold, encouraging him to continue. And he did, inserting his thumb inside your mouth, the sensation of your hot spit coating his finger earning a shuddered exhale out of the boy. 

You swirled your tongue around the digit, driving Rafe over the edge. He imagined your lips wrapped around his cock instead of his finger, the dirty thought causing him to twitch in his pants, fully hard hard by now. 

“You’re so fucking hot,” he whispered, withdrawing his finger from in between your lips, and replaced it with his own as he captured your lips in an open-mouthed kiss. “Can’t believe you’ve never let anyone touch you before.” 

“Is it that hard to believe?” You hushed, lowering your tone to match his. “Are you gonna tease me over it?”

“While that does sound tempting right now,” he smiled over your mouth, littering wet kisses in between his sentence. “I’ll pass, ‘rather focus on you, doll.”

Your face heat up at the pet name, too flustered to respond. You were still in disbelief over this, whatever it was, not expecting anything like this to happen between you two. Fuck, Rafe was kissing you, and you were totally in for it, in fact, your body was speaking faster than your mind, following your needs before you could process it. 

“I’ll guide you through your first time, baby.” He muttered under his breath, knee finding the space in between your legs. He captured the corner of your lips in an open-mouthed kiss, one of his hands toying with the strap of your bra. “Let me make you feel good.” 

“You know,” you trailed off, enjoying the sensation of his fingers tracing the bare skin around your shoulders, the contact like feathers to your flesh. “We shouldn’t be doing this.” 

“Why not?” He asked, hands shifting down to your waist, barely above the hem of your top. “It’s not like we’re doing anything wrong, ‘m only helpin’ you.”

“Jus’ shut up n’ kiss me.” You slurred, wrapping both arms around his neck as you ceased the distance between you. 

A content hum left Rafe’s throat, pressing you down to the bed with the hands around your waist. The latter hovered over you, angling his head to the side to deepen the kiss. A gasp escaped your throat as he nibbled on your bottom lip, the unexpected gesture causing you to part your mouth. 

Rafe saw a chance, and took it, tongue invading the inside of your mouth with the access you granted him, your fingers toyed with the bozzed hair at the back of his head, almost yelping when his cold fingers made contact with the sliver of skin around your stomach. 

You’ve never been touched by a man like this before, Rafe was exploring parts in your body that were meant to be hidden, not for his gaze to admire. Multiple times he had to hold back, watching you innocently walk around the house with a set of pajamas that barely covered anything, revealing all your curves. 

You drove him crazy, with everytime you moved, slightly teased him, told him things no one should know, he wasn’t able to handle it, not with how oblivious you were to the hints he kept dropping. And if he rubbed one out to the thought of you, he wasn’t mentioning it; not to you, that’s for sure.

His fingers toyed with the waistband of your shorts, withdrawing from the kiss to glance down, making you feel shy under his gaze. He tugged the elastic down your side, hissing when his fingers made contact with the warm skin hidden underneath. 

“Fuck, baby.” He groaned, “Get these off, need to see you s’ bad.” 

You moaned at the remark, letting your eyes fall shut as he tugged your shorts down, levelling them with your knees, until he could get a good view of your dripping cunt. A shuddered sigh escaped his lips, fingers instantly finding your folds. 

You gasped at the sensation, arching into the touch, chasing after your pleasure when he moved his hand up your sides, pressing your hips down to the bed. 

“Stay,” He whispered, lips ghosting over yours. “I’m supposed to be helpin’ you, ‘member?”

Right, that skipped over your head. 

“Well then, hurry up and do it.” You whined, almost yelping when his hand hovered over your heat. “Fuck, Rafe, please.”

“Please what?” He question, a teasing grin forming on his lips. “Use your words, baby.” 

“Touch me.” You demanded, words slurring out of your mouth. 

“You know I can’t do that.” He chuckled, retrieving one of your hands from around his neck. “S’ supposed to be your job.”

He guided your hand down to your heat, pressing your fingers to your clit. You moaned, leaning your head back as Rafe moved your digits over your cunt, using his hand to lead you through the rhythm, slow and steady, not too much, in case you grew sensitive to it. 

You desperately shuddered under the touch, gasping when Rafe pressed his hand over yours, the gesture spiraling pleasure throughout your body. His face nuzzled into your neck, littering wet kisses to your throat as he continued pleasing you with his guided hand, leisurenly picking up his (your) pace. 

“Fuck,” you whined, nails digging into the blade of his shoulder, well aware he was waking up with bruises with how much pressure you were applying. “Feels s’ good.” 

“Yeah?” He muffled against your neck, teeth grazing over flesh, before he nibbled right under your jaw. “Am I making you feel good, baby?”

You hummed, too accompanied with your pleasure to respond. You arched into the touch, muffled whines the only thing leaving your throat as Rafe’s fingers traced over your folds, until they found your entrance. 

“Fucking hell,” he grunted, withdrawing from the crook of your neck. “You’re so wet for me, doll.”

Your face heat up at the words, turning your head to the side to avoid looking at the latter. One of his hands slid underneath your shirt, kneading your boob with his fingers. Everything felt overwhelming, whether it was the hand guiding your fingers on your clit, or the one squeezing your breasts, it was too much for you to comprehend with a hazy mind and a blurry vision. 

He managed to get your shirt off with a bit of shuffling, and a bit of help from you; of course, leaving you in only your bra. His mouth salivated at the sight of your breasts, now half on display, only for him to see. 

He swallowed around his throat, fingers toying with the thin material of your bra, using the digits to tug it down, until it exposed your nipple to the chilly air, causing goosebumps to break out across your chest. He rolled it with his thumb, fascinated with how perfectly your boobs sat. 

You jolted under his touch, becoming sensitive to the finger flicking your nipple, growing even more surprised when he leaned down, taking your tit in his mouth. His tongue swirled over your now hardened nipple, letting his spit coat a stripe of your chest. 

Your back arched into Rafe’smouth, eyes forcing shut as his hand found your back, unclipping your bra with a swift gesture. He let the cloth hang loose around your chest, finger dipping beneath the straps around your shoulders, letting them fall down your sides. 

“God,” he grunted, his hot breath fanning over your boob, while his hand toyed with the other, squeezing and kneading the plump flesh. “You’re a fucking mess for me.”

You whined in protest to his words, feeling your pleasure build up, sensing your climax in the process. Rafe’s mouth found your lips once again, capturing them in a lustful kiss. He licked into your mouth, tongue gliding over yours as it met his half way through. 

“I think I’m…” you spoke in between kisses, “Rafe– fuck!”

An audible gasp escaped your throat when Rafe circled your entrance, lining his finger up with your hole. And without a warning, he slipped a finger inside, the new found pleasure mixed with pain alluring you into his trap. 

This was exactly what he wanted, to have you a flustered mess under his touch, show you how good he could make you feel, even if it was wrong, forbidden; in your words.

“You’re so fucking tight,” he groaned, parted lips ghosting over yours. “Wanna fuck you so bad, doll.” 

You whined over the statement, picturing the idea of Rafe fucking you stupid, until you no longer were able to remember your name. His finger moved inside you, letting you get used to the digit moving in and out of you. Your hand was back to your side by now, letting Rafe lead you through your built orgasm. 

The latter lined another finger with your hole, slowly letting it insert inside you, using his thumb to rub your clit, merely to distract your mind off the pain, and focus on pleasing you. His pace was slow, steady enough it drove you crazy. 

His fingers continued pumping in and out of you, with you relaxing into the touch once you slightly got used to the digits stretching you out. Rafe picked up his speed when he noticed that, hand growing sloppy inside your dripping hole. 

“Rafe–” you whined, wrapping your arms around his neck. “I’m so fuckin’ close.”

He hummed, littering open-mouthed kissed to your lips as you gasped into his mouth when his fingers hit your g stop. And you were so closer, with his fingers inserting in and out of you, while his thumb rubbed your clit, chasing after your pleasure. 

Your legs trembled as you came undone, shuddering in Rafe’s arms as he walked you through your orgasm. He slowed down his pace, chuckling as a content hum escaped your throat, pulling him down for a quick kiss.

It was sweet, lingering for only a moment before Rafe pulled away, smug smile ghosting over your lips. He withdrew his fingers from your entrance, with you already missing the warmth of his fingers inside. 

He traced his hand over your figure, coming to a halt when he reached your mouth. He parted your lips with his fingers, a silent demand that you shall not deny. You took the digits in your mouth, gliding your tongue over each one, tasting yourself on them. 

Rafe smirked, watching you with despair, a look of want you only got to experience whenever he was hitting on other girls. Yet, here he was, fucking you with his fingers until you came undone. 

He withdrew his fingers, replacing it with his own mouth as he pulled you in for another kiss, this time to taste you on his lips. He smiled against you, satisfied now that he’s able to savor you whole, having explored every inch of your body; though he knew that wasn’t enough. 

“That felt good,” he started, rubbing his thumb over the corner of your face. “Yeah?”

“Mhm, I must say…” you trailed off, slightly growing flustered by his gaze as it burned holes through your skin. “It wasn’t that bad.”

“You think?” He snickered, thumb brushing over your lips. “Should we give it another go, now that you lost your jerk-off virginity?”

“That’s lame,” You chuckled, a knowing smile suppressing its way across your lips. “Hmm, who knows, maybe that’s not the only virginity I’ll be losing tonight.”

“Okay, that’s a lame way of telling me you want me to take your virginity.” He grinned, amused by the embarrassed shove you gave to his shoulder. 

“My god, shut up!” You blushed, hiding your face with your hands. “That’s not what I was sayin’.”

“No yeah, definitely.” He nodded, attempting to get your hands off your face. “Don’t be a brat, baby, look at me.” 

Your hold fell loose around your face, letting Rafe move your hands off, revealing the smile tugging at your lips. He mimicked your action, expression switching into something serious, all while maintaining a teasing grin still. 

“You know, that wasn’t such a bad idea.” He pecked the corner of your lips, leisurely trailing down to your throat, until he nuzzled in the crook of your neck. “Maybe we should test it out.” 

“Test what out, idiot?” You grinned, tilting your head to give Rafe more access to the side of your neck. 

“Lots of stuff,” he muffled, “I don’t think I’ll be able to hold myself back, now that I got a taste of you.” 

“So, don’t.” You shot back, mouth moving faster than your brain as you responded. “Don’t hold yourself back, ‘m all yours.”

And that was the only sign Rafe needed, ceasing the distance between you before capturing your lips in a kiss, one you don’t think you’ll be able to forget.

[uraveragelonelysapphic]

welcome to my masterlist! here, you'll find everything i've ever written! enjoy!

Marvel

Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Another Love- You meet Wanda at a grief group, as she’s struggling to heal after Vision’s death. Will you help her heal? Will your friendship grow into something more?

Under the Weather- You’re not feeling the greatest, but your girlfriend is there to nurse you back to health.

A Happy Ending- Wanda has to choose between you and Vision. But will she make the right choice?

Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Keep You Warm- You are stuck in a freezing cold safe-house in Alaska, but luckily Nat is there to provide you with some warmth.

Not a Monster- After coming home from Wakanda, you meet a certain red head recovering from rejection and show her she’s capable of being loved.

Rocky Road- After Bruce disappears, abandoning Nat, you help put the pieces of her broken heart back together. When Bruce comes back from Ragnarok and professes his love for Nat, will she reject him? Or will she break your heart and run back into his arms?

No More Hiding- You’re a super soldier fresh out of the ice, so it’s your first pride month. And you get to spend it with your girlfriend.

Enough- After Wanda cheats on you, you’re heartbroken. Luckily Nat is there to pick up the pieces.

All I Ever Asked- Promises are hard to keep as an avenger.

Yelena Belova x Reader

Always- You have a nightmare about your days in the Red Room, but Yelena is there to comfort you.

Natasha Romanoff x Wanda Maximoff x reader

Proud- After a not so pleasant dinner with your homophobic mother, your girlfriends are there to give you the support you need.

When They Remembered- Wanda and Nat forget your birthday. But will they remember before it’s too late?

Part 2

Take Care of You- You’re sick, but luckily your girlfriends are there to help.

Deserve- Sometimes your doubts and insecurities become too much to handle. But your girlfriends will always be there to remind you how much you mean to them.

Invisible- You feel invisible, and your powers don’t help with that fact. Can two redheads and a team of superheroes change that feeling?

Wanda Maximoff x Yelena Belova x reader

Starting Anew- You lost your mom. Yelena and Wanda lost a mentor figure. But can something good come from all this loss?

Kate Bishop x Yelena Belova x Reader

Festivities- Yelena has never had a normal Christmas before. Time for her girlfriends to give her the best one yet!

Soteria- You struggle with being kept a secret by the team and the insecurities of not being good enough. After a hostage situation, your girlfriends reassure you of your worth.

Rio Vidal x Reader

Gentle Love- She may be Lady Death, but to you, she is your sweet love.

Agatha Harkness x Reader

Agatha Harkness x Rio Vidal x Reader

Lavender- Nature had always been your life. How fitting that it could now cause your death.

Miscellaneous

Colt Seavers x Reader

Danger- you have an issue with your boyfriend’s addiction to danger. he doesn’t see the problem. but will he see it when the shoe is on the other foot?

Colt Seavers x Jody Moreno x Reader

Sane- You’re going crazy on a miserable set with a miserable director. Thank goodness you have two wonderful things that keep you sane.

Shelby Goodkind x Toni Shalifoe x Reader

Calm in the Storm- You are not okay. But you are also not alone.

Calliope Burns x Reader

Only You- you and Calliope had something going on that had yet to be labeled. so when your friend Juliette starts to take a liking to the girl, should you be concerned?

[kryptznnn]

Can't get this off my headdd!! Katsuki having a partner with a snow leapard quirk that gives them the appearance of ofc a snow leapard and also have like an ice quirk?? How would he react to that? You can write it on how you like I just want to be fed😋😋

♡- Different

⋆༺𓆩⚔𓆪༻⋆⋆༺𓆩⚔𓆪༻⋆

⋆༺𓆩⚔𓆪༻⋆⋆༺𓆩⚔𓆪༻⋆

➸ INTERESTS; -mha! katsuki bakugo x f! quirk using reader

➸ BACKGROUND; - (requested submission) Fascinating was probably the best word to use for you when describing what you were. For Katsuki it was perfect, you were perfect, it's as if there were so many great qualities your quirk had given you his curiosity had grown into affection. He hadn't mind watching and studying you from afar, but when he felt a distance come between you two, he took action.

➸ WARNINGS; - wc. 1.5k, fluff, romantic tension, observing lover, indecisiveness, romantic confusion, kissing, friends to lovers' kind of trope.

➸a.i; - I know this is short and im so sorry ugh, i really enjoyed writing this though, I hope you enjoy it!!

⋆༺𓆩⚔𓆪༻⋆⋆༺𓆩⚔𓆪༻⋆⋆༺𓆩⚔𓆪༻⋆

Maybe his peers were right about you prior to getting close with you. He had heard about you, your features and your quirk being the reason why you seemed that way. He knew your features and personality sounded familiar as someone from his past, but when you walked into his class, he knew exactly who you were.

Y/n L/n, he had known you prior as a child, before you had moved away after being bullied for your quirk and appearance. He never hated it though, he always found it appealing. He had always been drawn to you out of curiosity by it, looking like an exotic animal.

The way your eyes flashed with different colors, popping out as the black lining around your eyes was sharp, your inner corners and waterline dark. He could tell you had applied some makeup to hide majority of the spots and patterns that decorated your face, but he didn’t like it.

He liked being able to see your entire face, and for the most part as he knew your quirk had been in effect for as long as you wanted. As the patterns took effect onto your skin it hadn’t changed the fact that the word snow within snow leopard was literal, also able to control it.

Overtime the two of you went from exchanging small glances in class to actually speaking to one another, as your friend groups clashed. He was happy to say the least, and his friends could tell from how he acted around you. Katsuki was quiet and focused on what you would do, treading carefully and even doing as much to not curse around you, making you laugh every time.

He never really liked looking into your feline-like eyes, it felt as if he was falling into a trap or unknown territory. Even if it was something simple as you waving or smiling at him with your eyes he would look away, his head resting on his hand before smiling softly. His favorite thing about when you would laugh, or smile because your canines would poke out and your ears would flap around.

He took into deep account everything about your physical appearance, studying the way you talked, walked, and even fought in battle. He couldn’t deny you were very flexible and strong, let alone when you used your ice type powers within practice.

What he wasn’t fond of was the fact that it seemed your relationship with him was becoming distant as you began studying with Todoroki. He understood why the two of you were close and had no other reason to study with one another as you shared similar quirks, but the feeling didn’t sit right with him.

He felt as if he was running out of time with you before things had even properly begun. He cherished the small times you two spent together alone, hoping you felt the same way. The times everyone would go out as a group and the two of you trailed behind as you spoke of everyone else, good and bad. He would say or do anything to make you laugh, seeing your canines or how your patterns crinkled slightly up to your eyes, you looked pretty-

No, you looked beautiful to him. The same type of way he watches his parents interact with one another and his father showers and serenades his mother with compliments such as ‘beautiful’ or ‘gorgeous’, maybe even ethereal. He was never sure on how to show you or tell you the way he felt, or the way he wanted you to see yourself how he did.

He had always thought that repeating the same things his father did was cringey, and how you spoke of cringey stuff all of the time there was no way he could set himself up. It seemed as if it was suicide if he even thought of doing so, so when he mustered up the courage to tell you it had apparently been too late.

You cancelled on him last minute as you were supposed to train with Todoroki, again. As you always had nearly twice a week every day for the past 2 months. It drove him insane truly, he hadn’t liked Todoroki any better beforehand and now it seemed to have gotten worse. Even when you all hung out as a group you were quick to speak about what you had practiced or learned from him.

It had kept everything within Katsuki to not cause a fuss and blow up in everyone’s faces, literally. He would just leave without explanation every time, going out and taking a breather before going straight to his room and going to bed. The best part of him was that everyone knew he wasn’t going to just give up or forget about you, one thing he loved more than being stubborn was a fight, and it wasn’t hard fighting for you if he knew he was set to win.

So, when you made it known to him you were free for the day and had nothing to do, he nearly jumped out of bed. Quickly getting ready and damn near sprinting out of his room, making his way to yours. Clearing his throat and taking a deep breath before knocking on your door.

He was nervous, for some odd reason, he never had been before, not for anything. So then why was he so nervous when it came to you? You were his friend, as he was yours, and he just wanted to tell you how appealing you are to him and that you were very nice. Friends don’t do or say the things he wishes to do or say to you though, silly him or not knowing that already.

You were quick to welcome him inside, opening the door fully as you stood at its side from inside as he made his way inside. You ushered him to the small decor you had in the center of your room past the bathroom, a large fuzzy carpet for the two of you to sit on. You were quick to speak first engaging in conversation between the two of you. He had barely answered, only taking in your figure and body features as you spoke.

When you were speaking about something you were passionate about you spoke quickly, your tail moving rather rapidly behind you as your ears never perked lower. You would speak with your hands too, as if reliving the moment as you wanted him to understand it better.

He thought to himself he must’ve looked crazy just staring at you while nodding, not even smiling or laughing at your remarks. He was focused on your words and actions yes, but he was also thinking about what he was going to say to you. Thinking to be gentle and sincere with you when he began until you began to speak of your training with Todoroki.

“And it was so funny because he fell and-“

“You talk about him a lot.” He deadpanned, now cutting off your statement as he really didn’t want to hear any further of him. You stopped and looked him in the eyes now, raising an eyebrow.

“He’s my friend, and we train all of the time with one another.” You said, now looking away at Katsuki’s intense eye contact. You weren’t used to it in all honesty, usually he was quick to pull away or look away from you, now things had changed.

“I’m your friend too, right? Do you talk about me a lot too?” He asked, his hands planted behind him as he sat with his legs crossed, his eyes never leaving your as he moved in closer. You backed your head away slightly, taking in his subtle flirty tone and looked away, your ears flattening slowly as your lip perked to the side.

“Yes” you said in a hushed tone, now looking down into your lap as your tail had remained still, the patterned prints and thin fur on your face now being tainted with a shade of pink. He took in your expression with a surprised look, as he had never seen this expression before.

It must have been embarrassment, or maybe you liked him. Whatever it was he wasn’t going to let the opportunity pass, as now seemed like the perfect time to do what he wanted too. More like what he needed too, it was like a nagging feeling in his stomach and chest telling him too.

Without a second thought as you picked up your head he leaned in and kissed you. After a couple of seconds, he pulled back, looking at your shocked expression. He was going to apologize, but as he opened his mouth a split second later you had already jumped back onto him, kissing him back.

His hand was quick to make its way to the center of your back, giving you support as he nearly toppled over. You soon broke the kiss after he had kissed you back, looking at him with a large smile, your canines showing.

"I think you're a lot more to me than just a friend."

⋆༺𓆩⚔𓆪༻⋆⋆༺𓆩⚔𓆪༻⋆⋆༺𓆩⚔𓆪༻⋆

✴🕷 please do not copy, plagiarize, edit, or translate any works submitted by me. all works are originated and all other pictures used within those works are online images. thank you!! @kryptznnn

[peach-top]

❝𝙑𝙄𝙎𝙄𝙊𝙉❞

➤ ACT O. | CHAPTER VI.

➤ ICE CREAM COFFEE.

The next day, the raven-haired ruler woke up to find himself lying on a comfortable pillow or...so he thought it was a pillow. He let out a soft gasp, realizing that he was lying his head on someone's lap. And that someone is looking straight at him.

"Good morning." [Y] greeted Dark Cacao.

Without a second thought, the ruler bolted up, only for his forehead to collide with the wanderer's chin, making them both wince in pain.

They both received a bandage on the forehead and chin then were scolded by the elderly pharmacist for their recklessness.

"My apologies. I seem to have forgotten that you allow me to rest on your lap." Dark Cacao apologized. [Y] brushes it off, "No need...How's your fever?"

The ruler nodded, "I think I feel better now. Thank you."

"...Are you sure you're ok? Whenever I touch your shoulder, you tense up and slap my hand away, yelling." the taller male frowned. The raven-haired ruler sighed, "Sorry. Because of the voice in my head, I felt...tense. But I'm fine now. I can no longer hear that voice."

"Ah. If there's any problems, you can tell me." [Y] said with gentleness in his voice. Dark Cacao looks away to hide his soft blush, "...I'll see what I can do..."

"...Never had I ever felt this way before..." the raven-haired ruler thought, placing his hand over heart. He was snapped out of his thoughts when he heard a knock on the door. "Ahem. Come in."

The door slid open to reveal Affogato, Caramel Arrow, and Crunchy Chip. The first watcher beam, "Your majesty! Thank goodness, you're awake! A-are you feeling better??"

"What are you saying?! Of course he'll feel better!" Crunchy Chip chirped, happy to see that Dark Cacao is well. Affogato huffed, "You and your cream wolves won't stop howling. You were mistaken that he might've died..."

"Shut it!" Crunchy Chip howled in anger and embarrassment.

"I am well. I must thank the wanderer for helping me rest." Dark Cacao pointed to the taller male. "It helps me rest peacefully after all of that headache."

"I don't trust him..." Crunchy Chip narrows his eyes at the taller male. "I've heard he tamed some beasts that were attacking the kingdom and even the dragon! But that won't convince me to trust him!"

Crunchy Chip stares menacingly at [Y], not completely trusting him. What if he betrayed Dark Cacao? What if he's only pretending to be an ally? What if-

"That's fine. You don't need to trust me, but I'm happy that the kingdom is now safe from danger." [Y] said.

The second watcher rushed in with a panic look on his face, "Y-your highness. The...Snow Licorice dragon had returned..."

"It has returned to attack, hasn't it?!" the tamer exclaimed. [Y] corrected the male, "She. The dragon is a female. Please be respectful."

"Is she preparing to attack?" Dark Cacao asked.

"No...She's just standing there. I think she's waiting for someone..." The second watcher mumbled before taking a glance at the taller male.

"What if she attacks?!" Crunchy Chip pointed. Caramel Arrow gives the short male a light bonk in the head, "She won't."

"She could possibly be waiting for the traveler since he did remove the poison from her body..." Affogato suggested.

"I think you're correct. We will not need our weapons." The ruler of the kingdom announced. "We must trust the wanderer to handle the dragon on his own."

"Understood." The Watchers nodded with understanding.

"I mustn't question your command, so I'll do as you say." Crunchy Chip sighed.

"Good." Dark Cacao said then turned to the taller male, "You must do what you want to do. We'll wait for you."

"Thank you."

· · ─ ·𖥸· ─ · ·

Under Dark Cacao's commands, the watchers watched as the taller male stepped outside of the gate. They didn't have their weapons, but they'll stay on guard. Dark Cacao watched with the others as [Y] stood before the dragon.

"Good to see you again." [Y] smiled softly. The Snow Licorice dragon leaned her head down for the taller male to stroke her head. "Are you feeling any better? No trouble?"

The dragon purred as a response. The former guardian heard a small roar from beneath the dragon's wing, "Oh? Is there someone with you?"

The Snow Licorice Dragon lifted her wing to reveal five baby dragons, much to the people in the Black Citadel surprise. So, the dragon returned to show her babies to [Y].

"Ah. So you have babies." [Y] chuckled. The baby dragons rush over to the taller male and snuggle with his legs.

"Aww..." Caramel Arrow and the second watcher cooed at the sight.

"Hmph. That's cute, but my cream wolves are cuter!" Crunchy Chip pouted.

"You came all this way to show me your babies. How cute. I hope these Snow Licorice dragons grow up to be healthy and strong." [Y] grinned, lifting a baby dragon in his arms. The Snow Licorice Dragon bumps her muzzle against the male's arm. The taller male's eyes widened, "Oh? You name this one after me?"

The taller male then let out a chuckle, "Hahahaha. How sweet of you. Glad your babies were born healthy despite the poison."

"He can understand them...? No way..." the tamer mumbled with amusement in his voice. "So that's why he's the Tamer of All Beasts..."

"He mentioned this before, he's the former guardian of the Millennial Tree Forest who protected the forest. He has animal friends." Caramel Arrow smiled.

"W-what?! T...that's amazing! I wonder if he can teach me how to tame a dragon! ✨" Crunchy Chip awed.

"Didn't you say you don't trust him?" Affogato deadpanned. "You're far too easy to convince."

"Shut it!"

Dark Cacao noticed [Y] made a "come over" movement with his hand. Confused, the raven-haired ruler approached the dragon and the taller male, receiving a soft growl from the dragon, but [Y] calmed her down.

"Alright. You just had to do one thing. You'll need to apologize for attacking her." [Y] told the ruler. "She only attacks because you attacked her first and the poison has taken the better of hers."

"...I see." Dark Cacao mumbled before turning focus on the dragon then bowed in an apologetic manner, "I, Dark Cacao, apologized for the action we caused you. We do not know what the dragon is thinking, nor did we hear the pain coming from the mother. Once again, we apologize for our actions. From now on, us warriors will leave you in peace."

"..." The Snow Licorice Dragon stares aggressively at the raven-haired ruler before huffing at him, sending small smoke his way.

"She...scoffed at me..." Dark Cacao sweatdropped.

"It'll take a while for her to trust you. Don't worry..." [Y] chuckled softly. Dark Cacao blushed when he heard the taller male's genuine chuckle before looking away. He cleared his throat, "I see what I could do to gain her trust. Glad we were able to have a truce."

"His little chuckle...is amusing..." the ruler thought, feeling his heart flutter inside him. "It makes it harder for my heart to slow down..."

· · ─ ·𖥸· ─ · ·

It has already been weeks since [Y] stayed at the Black Citadel. Fortunately, he made friends at the Dark Cacao Kingdom. It must've been nice to make friends and explore the outside world. The former guardian was glad he decided to leave the forest.

[Y] summoned a bird to send the letter to Millennial Tree and Wind Archer about his adventure in the Dark Cacao Kingdom.

"Hello, dearest traveler, are you writing a letter?" Affogato asked the taller male while holding two cups of affogato coffee. [Y] nodded, "I'm sending it to the forest like I promise."

"Oh? Interesting..." the priest mumbled before sitting next to the wanderer. "Ice Cream Coffee?"

[Y] tilted his head. He has never heard of ice cream nor coffee before, "Ice Cream Coffee?"

Affogato chuckled at the male's curiosity, "It's a mixture of ice cream and coffee. Bittersweet. Give it a taste and you'll see."

Just as say, [Y] took a sip of the ice cream coffee. It took a while until the taste kicked in and it was bittersweet. A mixture of bitterness and sweetness. It doesn't taste so bad.

"Ah..." [Y] awed. He then sipped more of the ice cream coffee. "So, this is what it feels like to taste ice cream coffee."

"I'm glad you like it. I made them myself. I am Affogato after all. I am bitter and sweet." Affogato beamed, clasping his hands together. "It's my specialty~"

Affogato does smell like ice cream and coffee, but does he taste like one. Curiosity took the better of [Y], so he leaned over and bit on Affogato's cheek, catching him by surprise. [Y] continue to bite on his squishy cheek, but it's odd that he doesn't taste like ice cream coffee, however he can taste something weird that isn't food.

"T-traveler!" Affogato squeaked. [Y] pulled away, "You don't taste like one, but smell like one."

The priest pressed his hand on his cheek where the taller male bit him, "Humans aren't people to taste or bite even if they smell like food."

"Really? My animal friends like to bite me, so I thought my kind does something similar." [Y] stated. He just had no idea. It's impossible for Affogato to even get mad at the male because of his innocence and cluelessness. He's such a pure being.

Affogato covered his face, "Why? I enjoy manipulating others who are easy targets or perhaps his majesty. How is it difficult to manipulate something so pure...?"

"Affogato...?" [Y] tilted his head.

· · ─ ·𖥸· ─ · ·

"Wind Archer. It appears that [Y] sent us a letter." Millennial Tree called for the archer. Wind Archer leaped off the tree and landed before the Spirit of the Forest. Millennial Tree opened the stroll and read the letter. He chuckled after reading the full letter, "My~ It seems he's making friends and having fun."

"I see..." Wind Archer sighs with relief.

Millennial Tree smiled, "You seem relieved. You must've missed him a lot."

The archer blushed, "I...I...I'm just- N-nevermind...."

· · ─ ·𖥸· ─ · ·

Back at the Black Citadel, Dark Cacao was writing letters to his friends aka soon-to-be partners about [Y]. It could possibly be just in case he entered into their kingdom without suspicion. Surely, they'll love [Y] like he did. He knows for sure.

Sadly, tomorrow [Y] will be leaving to continue his journey, which is sad to see him go, but they'll meet again, right? The ruler sent off letters to his lovers about the wanderer. Luckily, he described how the taller male looks just so they can recognize the description that he sent to them.

"...It's only been weeks. My feelings for him are getting stronger. As they say: Action speaks louder than words." Dark Cacao mumbled. "Then I shall use action to show my feelings."

╭ ⁞ ❏. facts

┊ ⁞ ❏. the heroes are not in a poly relationship yet

┊ ⁞ ❏. wind archer can be possessive of [y]

┊ ⁞ ❏. author-chan used the wheel to decide on who [y] can meet

➤ chapter v.

➤ final.

[nekohime19]

Bimawen # 10 : Old feud

Wukong finally realizing what he's feeling !! He also casually drops a bomb on Mengai, 🤭.

Wukong eyed the mixture swirling in his green-glazed cup, it curled around the cup's wide mouth, dancing in its shallow ends. The tea was hot. Curls of smoke danced above it, washed away in the early breeze. The smell was strong, filled with earthy tones, it was like smelling a handful of sun-drenched dirt. Wukong liked it. He took the delicate cup, his fingers sliding over the luxurious ceramic, and brought it to his lips. The tea was bitter, it nipped at his lips, unyielding. His favorite flavor.

“I knew you'd like my new flavor, bimawen.” Wukong looked up, he gulped down the rest of his tea and put down the cup, utterly satisfied. The one who spoke was bathed in auspicious light, his eyes gleaming with warmth, the kind found in the dead of winter. Yuanshin always inspired a special kind of peacefulness. Serene yet inexplicably powerful. Like the surface of a glassy sea. Serene, yet who knew what laid in its deep ends?

“You always know best when it comes to tea, your reverence.” Hummed Wukong. Despite the respectful address, Wukong acted with no false pretense, his tone lacked the expected submission one should show in front of such revered figures. Yet the Three Pure Ones didn't mind. Perhaps because they were aware of his character, they satisfied themselves with the meager term of address. “You may call me Sun Tao, if you wish to.”

“Sun Tao?” Repeated Lingbao, his face was cut off of ice itself, unmoving no matter the vicissitudes of life. Wukong never saw this man as anything other than proper. No dirt on his golden robe, no curls on his dark-ink hair, he was always the epitome of perfection.

“My courtesy name.” Clarified Wukong.

“Since when do you have one?” Asked Laozi, his eyes curved not unlike those of a cat. His white hair cascaded on his shoulders like ferocious rivers, untamed yet oddly ordered. This man held secrets in his eyes and mysteries on his lips. He was as incomprehensible as the far-away stars yet as familiar as the morning dew. Wukong knew the old-man hid his mischievous smile behind the tip of his fan, he didn't pay it any mind.

“My assistant gave it to me.” Wukong couldn't help the hint of pride bleeding in his tone. He never truly wished for a courtesy name before, but the mere fact that Mengai was the one to give it to him was enough for it to become special. He wanted to use it. It was a gift from his assistant. Wouldn't he be the worst boss if dared to not use it?

“Well then, Sun Tao it is.” Yuanshin smiled, he lifted his cup in acknowledgement of Wukong's new term of address and took one gulp of the earthy drink. The other two deities followed his lead. Wukong chirped in satisfaction, it felt good to be acknowledged.

“You're awfully close to your new assistant, aren't you Sun Tao.” His courtesy name sounded somewhat teasing on Laozi's lips. The old sage reclined on his chair, his white fan tapping against his chin. His eyes, like always, were calculative, as if trying to see beyond what was shown. Wukong didn't know what Laozi seeked within him and he didn't care. He wasn't one to be played with. Perhaps, any other would be like mouses in this man's clutches, but Wukong wasn't like any other, he was no prey.

“Of course, he's my assistant.” Huffed Wukong, as if it was enough to explain his care for Mengai. Yes. Wukong had some confusing thoughts about his assistant, he was still pondering what the lips smack truly meant. But he wasn't one to overthink everything he felt. He knew he cared about Mengai, now what was the nature of that care didn't truly interest him… It would be great to know but he wouldn't die of misery if he didn't know.

Laozi snorted, he waved his fan around like the tail of a serpent. As if he heard something hilarious. The two other deities paid no mind to Laozi's odd mood. Lingbao nodded, happy that his fellow heavenly official was getting along with his assistant, while Yuanshin smiled softly at the news.

“It is good to get along with your colleagues.” Chuckled Yuanshin, he had a twinkle similar to Laozi's in his eyes, as if they shared some sort of hilarious secret, yet Yuanshin's gaze was infinitely gentler. He took another gulp of his cup, the sight made Wukong thirsty all over again, he waved around, immediately a servant served him another cup. “I heard Chiyou brought back some oddities from his expedition, again.”

“When does he not?” Snorted Wukong, he brought the cup to his lips and downed it in one go. He lacked manners compared to the other three but none minded. They were used to it. Besides, they wouldn't spend time with him if his behavior irked them.

“It is reckless of him. He shouldn't bring mortal objects to Heaven.” Huffed Lingbao, there was the shadow of a frown on his frosty face, a rare occurrence. Like always, Lingbao was always the one to respect rules.

“Didn't he come to your stables to give you his horse? Did you see what he brought back?” Laozi leaned forward, eyes fixed on the bimawen. Wukong chuckled. He also leaned forward, as if sharing an important secret. The Three Pure Ones all lended an ear. They all loved gossip but they didn't show it with the same enthusiast. Lingbao's curiosity was quiet, a ripple on his frosty face. Laozi was the very opposite, he pounced on secrets like a starved beast.

“I saw him with a bag. Something sharp was moving inside.” Whispered Wukong, he put a hand above his mouth as if he had to hide his words from outside ears. The Three Pure Ones ooed with various levels of amusement.

“He brought back a weapon.” Hummed Lingbao.

“Evidently, Chiyou is obsessed with weapons.” Huffed Laozi.

“It is most likely cursed.” They all nodded at Yuanshin's input. It wasn't the first time Chiyou brought back cursed weapons from his expeditions. As long as Chiyou managed to control those cursed objects, all was well, but it happened that one or three escaped, causing mayhem in their wake.

“Let's just hope whatever he brought back doesn't disrupt our peace.” Chuckled Yuanshin.

“I don't know…a bit of chaos could do us some good.” Huffed Laozi, he waved his fan excitedly, as if the mere thought of it thrilled him. Wukong was on his side. A bit of chaos could be fun. Heaven felt too static at times.

“As long as he doesn't cross paths with Huangdi.” Sighed Lingbao. They all nodded at this. It was well known that the God of War and the Yellow Emperor couldn't stand each other. Blood flowed each time they crossed eyes. It was an old feud. As old as the birth of kingdoms.

Wukong reclined on his chair, the sun was pouring on their table. The weather was clear. Not a cloud in sight. Yet Wukong knew the cold season was soon to be. The Three Pure Ones’ garden was an odd place. Everything was precisely ordered, each rock, each pond was perfectly placed, yet everything seemed so natural that one wouldn't even think a hand arranged it all. The bimawen's gaze strayed on the carps swimming in the crystal-water pond. He licked his lips… He felt a bit hungry suddenly.

“Sun Tao?” Wukong flinched, he turned towards Lingbao and acted like he never thought wrong in his life. He'll bother his assistant for a fish when he'll get back home.

They kept gossiping until the sun was approaching its zenith. They talked about every little thing that happened recently. Ranging from one wind spirit accidentally letting squalls escape to the Region Below to Constellations losing at a play of lianghu. Wukong never played this game of dice before. He made the Three Pure Ones promise him to try on their next tea gathering.

“You should go see Yuelao, Sun Tao.” Hummed Laozi before the bimawen could leave the garden. Wukong turned towards the old sage and raised one eyebrow. Laozi's eyes were twinkling with mischief. Wukong didn't know if he was trying to pull him into one of his schemes or if this was genuine advice. He never truly talked to Yuelao, from what he knew this deity was overseeing matters of the heart. Some even said he tied red strings on people ankles, bonding them in fate itself.

“Why should I?” Huffed Wukong, he put his hand on his hips and looked up at the old sage with defiance. Laozi snorted, he lightly hit him with the tip of his fan.

“Because I said so.” Laozi left with those words, leaving Wukong alone. The old sage robes flowed in his wake, fluttering like the wings of a butterfly.

Wukong rubbed his forehead, he grimaced. Laozi didn't hit him too hard but still he didn't like to be teased in this manner.

Hmph.

Why should he go see the God of Love and Marriage?

Still monkeys were curious by nature and Wukong couldn't help himself, without truly thinking about it, he walked towards old Yuelao's palace.

***

The Moon Palace was cladded in fog, its pale pristine walls surrounded by swirls of ethereal smoke. It stood in the center of the Region yet it felt like it was cut off from everything surrounding it. The warm shine of swaying lanterns illuminated the serene place. Wukong leisurely walked on the bridge leading to the palace. The sunlight was dampened by the swirling fog, whitened it until it resembled the cold luster of the moon.

Once he was at the foot of the palace, Wukong looked around. The place was strangely empty. Ghostly in a way. He felt something brush against his ankle and looked down. A rabbit was at his feet, two snow-white paws on his left foot.

“What are you doing here lil guy?” Hummed Wukong, he crouched down and poked the fuzzy creature with the tip of his finger. The rabbit's nose twitched. It squeaked, indigned, before pawing harder at Wukong's foot. The bimawen pinched the creature's ear. How dare it pawe at him like this? The rabbit squeaked and pawed harder. Wukong chuckled. “Alright, don't be mad.” He took the fussy creature in his arms and patted its head. The rabbit settled comfortably. “Now, let's find this God of Love.”

Wukong had no qualms about barging in other people's places, especially when no servants were around to guide him. Yuelao's palace was quite serene. The interior was minimalistic yet warm. The bimawen wandered in carpet-cladded corridors for a few minutes before finally seeing someone. A servant clothed in red was wandering in the corridors. The servant flinched at his sight.

“I'm here for the God of Love.” Huffed Wukong, the rabbit was still in his arms, unbothered. The servant looked at him for a few seconds, before letting their gaze fall on the rabbit. For some reason, the cloud obscuring their face faded away when they caught sight of the rabbit, as if its mere presence was explanatory.

“Yes, yes of course.” They squeaked. Wukong followed after them. The servant left him at the foot of an imposing golden-clad door, the bimawen kicked it open with one swift gesture. He stumbled in a light-dimmed office, an old-man was sitting at his desk, leaning over an old scroll.

The old-man had an imposing bear cascading on his chest not unlike untamed vines. His face was as pale as an opal, wrinkled like an agitated sea. His eyes were soft, curved downward like tears. He had a bright red spot on his forehead, burning his skin, a sign of wisdom. Yuelao looked up from his scroll, he didn't seem surprised to see Wukong, in fact, he seemed somewhat relieved.

“I knew you would come, bimawen.” Hummed the deity, his voice as soft as cotton. He gestured to a nearby chair with a flick of hand. Wukong settled comfortably, the rabbit still in his arms. Yuelao looked at the fuzzy creature for a split second, a smirk dancing on his pale lips.

“I just came here to satisfy my curiosity. And you can call me Sun Tao.” Huffed Wukong, he played with the rabbit’s ears, they weren't as soft as Mengai's (nor as cute) but they were fun to play with nonetheless. The rabbit squeaked, outraged, but it couldn't do anything against the bimawen's mighty pets.

Yuelao looked at him with something akin to amusement, he put away his scroll and fully turned towards the bimawen. “Well perhaps I can help you figure some things out, Sun Tao.”

Wukong wasn't one to seek advice on what to do. Usually, if he wanted something, he simply had to take it. However, he did have to admit that what he was feeling towards his assistant was confusing, it wasn't something he was used to. The warmth blooming inside of him was new, unfamiliar. “I like my assistant.” Stated Wukong, sure of himself, because that at least he was sure of. He messed with the rabbit's ears to calm himself. Somehow, talking about Mengai always made him feel quite excited.

“That's good. There are many types of like though.” Pointed out Yuelao. “How do you like your assistant?”

Wukong frowned, he never truly thought about this. He just… enjoyed Mengai's company, he never stopped to think of the intricacies of his fondness. “I just… really like him. I just want to be with him.” Wukong played with the rabbit's ears, the fuzzy creature reluctantly let him do as he pleased. “And I want to nip at his ears. Sometimes, he makes me so giddy… It’s like I can't reign it in and I just have to wrestle him.”

Yuelao raised one eyebrow in intrigue. “That is very specific... Would you say that you're in love with your assistant?”

Wukong's face wrinkled, as if he swallowed something particularly sour. “Love? No. I'm no husband.” Huffed Wukong. He didn't have many experiences with the concept of love. In fact, his knowledge was limited to the brief escapades he saw between mortals. For him, love was akin to a tryst in an alley’s shadows or a kiss on a wedding night. It wasn't something he understood very well. He didn't have those kinds of desires. “I don't want to kiss Mengai. My fangs are too large, they'd hurt him.”

“As I said, love comes in different ways.” Snorted Yuelao. “Your way of loving is perhaps very different from others.”

Wukong thought about it. Mengai was… he wasn't like the others. What Wukong felt wasn't the usual fondness he reserved for his numerous friends. With Mengai…he felt warm. But it wasn't the kind of heat that poured in one's belly nor the one igniting one's chest. It was somewhat softer, tender. Wukong didn't want to kiss, he didn't want to ravish… No. He wanted to hug, to cherish, to smack his lips until his overwhelming fondness was known to all. His fondness for Mengai scared him at times, it was so encompassing, so unfamiliar, it left him at a loss. He expected it to burn, to hurt, yet it didn't… It remained soft, like the sun's kiss in the morning. He couldn't stay away. He was drawn. Like the tides pulled by the moon.

Perhaps, he was in love…in his own odd way.

“So… Can I love him differently? Not like a husband, not like a friend, not like family?”

“You can love him as freely as you wish to.” Nodded Yuelao. Wukong felt reassured. Who needed labels anyway? He was the great bimawen, perhaps it was expected for his love to be different from any others.

Wukong felt better. He didn't like owing something to Laozi but he had to admit that speaking with Yuelao truly helped him. The bimawen nodded at the old-man, grateful for his wisdom. As expected, each profession has its own dedicated expertise. When it came to the heart, Yuelao was one of the absolute authorities, Wukong decided to come see him again if he had other inquiries.

“Thank you, I'll come back with a bottle of wine for you next time.” Nodded Wukong, he put down the rabbit and dusted himself off. He needed to find Mengai and share his discovery! He loved him. How cool was that? He wasn't really worrying about Mengai's own feelings in the matter. As long as Wukong could stay with his assistant, he didn't ask for much more. And even though Mengai didn't like to show it, Wukong knew he cared, in his own grumpy way.

Wukong hurried out of the palace, he felt excited about his new discovery. However, his frenzy was interrupted by a deafening sound. It came from afar. As loud as rumbling thunder.

“What's going on?” Muttered Wukong. Heaven wasn’t usually this loud. In fact, Heaven was often than not silent. The bimawen grabbed a nearby servant and demanded answers.

“The Yellow Emperor and Chiyou saw each other!” Yelped the servant. “Chiyou brought back a cursed sword… It escaped and Huangdi found it…”

Wukong huffed. Really those two couldn't keep it together. But Wukong wasn't one to miss a fight. Especially between two mighty deities. It wasn't often that the Region Above was shaken up by something. “Where are they?” Hummed the bimawen.

“They ran to the outskirts to avoid destruction.” Answered the servant.

Wukong froze. The outskirts ? His domain was in the outskirts. The blonde-furred monkey felt a cold chill run up his spine.

Mengai was in the outskirts!

Wukong was above his domain in seconds. His cloud pierced the air itself, as fast as thunder. The two gods were fighting near the stables, colliding with each other like two starved beasts. The aftershock of their weapons reverbeted in the earth itself. Mengai was with the clones, pushing the horses inside. He was too close to the battle. Wukong didn't like that. He hopped off his cloud and rushed to his assistant.

“Wukong, there is-” The bimawen didn't let him finish, he grabbed his face, eyes zeroing on the blood ticking down his assistant’s ears. Mengai noticed his gaze, his ears flattened on his head. “It's nothing, the sound just surprised me…”

“You go inside the stables with the clones.” Muttered Wukong, his thumb brushed against the macaque's hairy face, cupping the swell of his cheek. Then he turned towards the two fighting gods and growled. “I just need to remind them on whose territory they dare to fight.”

Wukong walked towards the makeshift battlefield. He took the staff hidden in the nook of his ear. It's been years since he took that weapon out. It grew in his hand, until it was as large as his palm and as long as himself. The staff's weight was familiar, his hardened skin fit perfectly against the cold metal. He could feel the power of 13,500 jin vibrating in his hands, one swung was enough to crush the air itself, enough to take hundreds of lives in a demi-second. The blonde-furred monkey leaped forward, he landed in-between the two growling gods, his staff cracking the meadows themselves.

“This doesn't concern you, bimawen.” Huffed Huangdi. He was as straight as an arrow. His yellowed robes floated gracefully around his lean form, not unlike wings. His beard was thin yet long, perfectly groomed, cascading on his chest like a tamed river.

“In fact, it does. This is my domain.” Wukong's lips stretched unnaturally, his eyes twinkled with fury, his fangs, razor-sharp, pressed against his mouth. He was hissing. “Either you leave now and we handle this in court or you persist and we handle this in blood.”

Both gods flinched, no matter their standings, it was impossible to not be aware of the bimawen's might. There was a time where none would have taken Wukong seriously. After all, a monkey couldn't even hope to equal a god, could he ? But the entirety of Heaven learned soon enough to not anger their good-natured bimawen. There was a story. Passed along in hushed whispers. Slithering from ears to ears. Once, the Jade Emperor took all of the bimawen’s previous assistants, believing Wukong could manage the stables on his own. When the bimawen reclaimed his manpower back, the Emperor refused… This day, the bimawen beat Heaven's most competent warrior to the ground, scarring the Region itself with the shape of his fist. Since then, none would be foolish enough to dare anger him.

Huangdi lowered his sword, Chiyou turned his head away. Both gods left the outskirts under the bimawen’s careful watch. Wukong shrinked his staff only when he was sure they left. He promised himself to make them regret trespassing on his domain and wreaking havoc on his lands. He wasn't one to be vengeful. In fact, his anger was as quick to fade as it was to rise. But they made his assistant bleed. And that he couldn't forgive. He'll bring this to court. Make them pay with some good bottles of wine and, perhaps, something more shameful for gods of their stature.

After all, his assistant will need some good vacations after being hurt and someone needed to do his job.

***

Wukong was sitting near his stone tub, the swirls of smoke danced close to him, brushing against his face. They enticed him to come. Like an invisible hand scratching under his chin. Truly. Wukong loved hot baths. His ear flickered when he heard his assistant approach. Mengai put down a heavy bamboo basket filled with peaches and oranges, he huffed, tired by the effort, and leaned over the fruits.

“I thought you didn't like hot baths.” Hummed Wukong as he creeped closer to the basket. He hovered over it, eyes curved in glee, before choosing the ripest peach for himself.

“I don't, but you do.” The bimawen froze at this. He looked up at his assistant and gulped. Again. The warmth poured in his chest, embracing his heart in the softest of ways. Wukong felt giddy. The mere thought of his assistant making an effort to please him was thrilling. He bit in the peach to calm his excitement. The fresh juices flooded his mouth and sweetness poured in his throat.

Macaque removed his clothes and crouched down, slowly he put one toe in the tub. He gradually lowered himself in the water tight embrace. “You're coming?” Hummed Macaque as he dived deeper in the large tub. Wukong finished his peach and shimmied out of his clothes, he jumped after Mengai, uncaring of the splashes. The black-furred monkey scowled, not liking being splashed. Wukong found his expression funny.

“Do you feel better?” Asked Mengai. He leaned on one of the tub's walls, water clung to his shoulders, lovely embracing him. Wukong let his eyes remain on his assistant for a bit longer than necessary, he liked watching him, he couldn't help it. His eyes always followed him. Wukong turned away after a few minutes, he lowered himself until the water tapped his chin.

“I wasn't feeling bad…” Huffed the bimawen.

“Liar.” Snorted Mengai. Wukong scowled, was he that easy to read? “You were all tense after the fight. You couldn't even concentrate on the horses.”

“I wasn't that tense.” Weakly argued Wukong. He didn't like admitting his own shortcomings.

“Will you take this to court? It's not like they did any damage, you intervened before things could get messy.” Asked Mengai, his face was reddened by the steam, his tone a bit slurred. Wukong snorted. He truly couldn't handle hot baths yet he stayed to please him. What a Mengmeng. Wukong was unaware his own tail was twitching happily.

“They hurt you.” Huffed Wukong, as if it was enough to justify the upcoming trial. In truth, it would be enough to even start a war. As much as Wukong liked Chiyou, there were lines that shouldn't be crossed. He could pardon their disrespect with a harsh slap on the back, but he couldn't let them go unpunished after making his assistant bleed. He wouldn't take it to extremes. But they owed at least a good month of free labor. Wukong looked over Mengai and frowned, he did not like the worry clouding his assistant's face. Wukong approached the black-furred monkey and flicked his forehead. “Don't worry about it, you silly Mengmeng. I'm the one who'll handle the court.”

Mengai scowled and rubbed his forehead, eyebrow twitching in annoyance. That was more like it. Wukong's gaze fell on his assistant's ears, his hand twitched, he wanted to cradle them. But he stopped himself. “Are your ears okay?” Whispered the bimawen.

“They're ringing a bit.” Sighed the black-furred monkey. “But it's okay.”

Wukong hummed. Eyes still fixed on Mengai's ears. His assistant noticed his insistent look and sighed, he turned and presented his neck, an invitation at grooming. Wukong huddled closer, he raised one hand and tentatively put it on Mengai's shoulder. Slowly, he began to smooth out his assistant's fur. There was something electric about touching Mengai. Wukong wasn't one to be nervous. In truth, he never truly felt nervous until now. Everytime he touched the other, his skin tingled, his stomach churned and an eruption of giddiness burst out inside of him. It was unnerving yet comforting. In truth, even if he glued the word love on each of these feelings, it didn't truly describe them all. It was more of a blend of so many different emotions, of so many sensations. Fondness. Tenderness. Comfortability. Nervosity. Trust. Softness. Slowness. Haven. Electrical. Tingling. Eruptive. Giddiness. Excitement. Care. Warmth. So many feelings all colliding under the name of love.

“I'll teach you self-defense.” Hummed Wukong as he untied a particularly tight knot on Mengai's shoulder. His assistant perked up, curious.

“Why suddenly?”

“Because I want to and it'll serve you.” Replied the bimawen. This was a fierce world. He was lucky to be born with might flowing in his veins. Mengai needed to be able to protect himself. He was crafty. Intelligent. Good at imitating. But this was the world of gods. Strength was all that was left under the glare of a divine enemy. “If you want to…” Added Wukong after he realized how… forceful his earlier statement could sound like.

“Well, I'm not going to say no when you offer like that.” Snorted Mengai. “Besides, who could refuse a lesson from the great bimawen?”

Wukong frowned at the tease, he had the sudden urge to pinch Mengai's ears, but he stopped himself, those pretty ears suffered enough today. He truly was a magnanimous boss.

“You should get out of the bath.” Muttered Wukong, his assistant's voice was getting more and more slurred, even the tips of his ears were beginning to redden.

“Nonsense.” Huffed Mengai, unwilling to admit he was getting drowsy.

Wukong rolled his eyes, he waited a few more hours until Mengai truly couldn't stand anymore. Then he picked up his assistant and sat him outside of the tub. He tenderly cladded him in towels. Mengai's face was all red, his eyes glazed over by the steam. He looked silly.

“You Mengmeng.” Chuckled Wukong as he carefully dried his assistant.

***

The Treasure Hall of Divine Mists was filled to the brim with numerous Constellations and Star Spirits. It wasn't everyday that the bimawen, known for his volatile character, demanded an audience. The news traveled far and wide in every corner of the Region. Soon, the Hall was flooded with all sorts of faces. From measle spirits to mighty gods. The Jade Emperor sat on his throne of gold, face as unbothered as an oiled sea, yet who knew what storms laid in his heart? His prized advisor, the Gold Star of Venus, stood at his side, his sharp eyebrows pinched in worry.

If there was one thing Heaven couldn't control, it was their good-natured bimawen.

Under the throne’s thick shadow sit two deities. The ones to be judged. On one side stood the revered Yellow Emperor. His long legs were crossed gracefully, his golden robes glistening under the Hall's lanterns. His face was sharp yet inexplicably tender. His hands were as pale as marble, put elegantly on his peeking knee. He looked almost perfect, if one ignored the way his eyes reddened when they crossed with his enemy. On the other side stood the feared God of War. He was reclining on his chair, his numerous heads displaying various levels of boredom. His hands were sharpened like a lion's claws, they had the luster of the blade.

Silence prevailed in the Hall. None dared to speak. But all wondered where their bimawen was? Where was the one who caused this? The doors creaked. They slammed open, letting light flood in. Wukong strolled in, unbothered. He frowned when he noticed the lack of presence at his side, he looked behind him and patiently waited for Mengai to catch up. His assistant hesitated. Not knowing if he had the right to stand beside his superior. Wukong waited, not wanting to move one inch further without Mengai at his side.

The black-furred monkey sighed, reluctantly, he walked by Wukong instead of following his shadow. The bimawen huffed, satisfied. They both stood in the throne’s shadows, each and every pair of eyes was on them. Piercing their very beings. The silence was veiling all in its tight, suffocating embrace. The Jade Emperor straightened. His eyes were serene, like the unbothered surface of a lake, yet his lips were ever so slightly pursued, betraying his inner feelings. He raised one hand, holding every breath on the tips of his fingers, and let if fall on his throne’s armrest.

“For what reasons did you seeked an audience, bimawen.” His voice echoed all around the Hall, thundering between all bodies. Wukong was unaffected. He callously greeted the Emperor with a nod, not bothering with the necessary pageantries, before cutting right at the heart of the matter.

“I seek retributions.” Huffed the blonde-furred monkey. He allowed his assistant to cower behind his back. He knew how… intimidating the situation could be and as much as he wanted his assistant to be at his side, it wasn't at the price of his comfort. If he had to be Mengai's shield then so be it. As long as the black-furred monkey was at ease he didn't mind.

The Gold Star of Venus's mouth twitched in annoyance, it's not as if Wukong was wrong to seek justice, but they all knew (considering their bimawen's character) that his demands would most likely be incredibly hard to meet. Truly. The Star Spirit couldn't help but glare at the two responsible for this mess. If they simply kept their sword's sheathed, none of this would have happened. He could only hope for the bimawen's mercy. If this affair was aggravated, it'll be one more headache to solve.

“For what, precisely ?” Asked the Jade Emperor. It was expected in any trials to go back on the events. This case was no different.

“They barged in my domain, disrupted the stables and wounded my assistant.” Wukong crossed his arms, chin lifted as high as possible.

“With all due respect, bimawen, we never pointed our swords towards your assistant.” Replied Huangdi, his voice as cold as ice itself. Chiyou nodded in agreement. For once they were both on the same wavelength.

“You made his precious ears bleed.” Huffed Wukong. Mengai buried himself in his hands, embarrassed by the sudden praise.

“Were any substantial damages caused?” Inquired the Jade Emperor.

“I already told you what happened.” Replied Wukong. He wasn't about to let it slide. And they should know better than to expect him to stay silent.“This is my assistant we're talking about. His tears are like my own. His orders are like my own. His wounds are like my own. When he bleeds, I bleed.” His voice echoed all around the Hall. Various spirits blushed at his confession while others giggled at his audacity. Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw Laozi leisurely fanning himself, looking as if he heard something particularly amusing. Wukong paid the crowd no mind.

“So what do you propose, bimawen?” Sighed the Jade Emperor. Wukong smiled. Ah. Now they were talking!

“They owe me one month of free labor. They'll be under my assistant's orders.” Proudly huffed Wukong. Both Chiyou and Huangdi sprang on their feet, indigned. Mengai blinked in surprise, not expecting that.

“I'm sorry for barging in your territory like that, bimawen, but what we've done don't really warrant this.” Pleaded Chiyou. Being under another order, especially an assistant's, was a great wound on a God's pride. Both the Yellow Emperor and the God of War were unwilling to lower themselves so much. Especially since they'll have to work together. Under the same roof.

“I am being lenient, here. If you don't accept my mercy I am more than willing to punish you both in other, less merciful, ways.” Wukong smiled. His fangs glistening dangerously under the Hall's luster. No matter how comfortable he was in his position of bimawen, he was still ruthless by nature. Blood didn't frighten him.

“Will you let this matter go if we agree to let both the Yellow Emperor and the God of War serve your assistant for one month?” Asked the Jade Emperor. Wukong nodded. The Emperor put a finger on his chin, gaze lost in thoughts. He leaned over his advisor and exchanged a few words. “Then it is settled. In one week. Both the Yellow Emperor and the God of War are to be placed under the bimawen's assistant order, and as such for one month.”

“Your majesty!” Refuted the Yellow Emperor.

“Surely you are joking.” Roared the God of War.

“The matter is close. It is not the first time your incessant fights disrupt our peace, let this serve as a lesson for the both of you.” Dismissed the Jade Emperor. None dared to speak against him. His words were always final.

Wukong left the Hall with a joyous sway of hips. This went well. His assistant hurried to catch up to him.

“Are you sure this was a good idea?” Whispered Mengai as they left the palace.

“They got what they deserved.” Huffed Wukong.

“But they're gods and I'm just an-” Wukong cut him before he could end his sentence. Ah. This self-depreciating idiot. Luckily, he had this mighty bimawen to remind him of his worth.

“And you're my assistant. As long as I'm here, they're not allowed to look down on you.” Stated Wukong. Mengai flinched, surprised by the confession, but soon enough his lips stretched in a soft smile. Wukong was satisfied with the sight. He then remembered he never got the chance to tell Mengai about his recent discovery at Yuelao's. “Also, I love you. Now come, hurry, we have to celebrate this successful trial with fresh wine and fruits!” Wukong hurried down the palace’s stairs, already salivating at the thought of their newly made wine.

“Wine sounds good, I wonder how it'll taste–wait what? You love me!?” Squeaked the black-furred monkey.

“Hurry you Mengmeng!” Complained the bimawen. His assistant had no choice but to hurry after him, leaving aside his shocking confession, for now.

+ some vocabulary

Huangdi also known as the Yellow Emperor is a legendary figure from ancient Chinese history, revered as one of the Five Emperors and considered one of the founders of Chinese civilization. He is both a cultural hero and a semi-historical ruler. In fact, he is considered to be the ancestor of the Han.

The battle of Chiyou (God of War) and Huangdi (Yellow Emperor) is a founder myth of Chinese mythology, in short it symbolizes the triumph of civilization over chaos and war, in fact Huangdi victory can be seen as the birth of civilization.

Lianghu : popular dice game in the Tang era

In Chinese mythology, Yuelao is the god of marriage and love, but Tu’er Shen (also known as the rabbit god) is the one overseeing same-sex relationships, in particular between men. I'll let you all think why Wukong picked up a rabbit, 👀

Jin : traditional Chinese measurement, 1 jin in the past was roughly equivalent to 0.5 kilograms (or about 1.1 pounds). 13,500 jin×0.5 kg per jin=6,750 kg. So, 6,750 kilograms or about 14,880 pounds.

Ch1 / Previous / Next

[strawberryshortcake0413]

Last Hope chapter 4

Hello everyone :D i have finally decided to upload a chapter i postponed for weeks. Hope yall enjoy it, lmk your thoughts and reactions

Characters:yandere Leon S Kennedy (older version) x reader

Disclaimer: This fanfic contains dark-themed topics, such as kidnapping, depression, suicidal thoughts, non-consent, unwanted pregnancy,etc

Warning: yandere Leon Kennedy, kidnapping, non-consent, depressed reader, manipulation, Stockholm syndrome, unwanted pregnancy, emotional & mental abuse

Chapter1 Chapter2 Chapter3

God. 

You were crazy. You were confused and blind. You didn't know whether it was love or hate. 

Hating your kidnapper seems to be the logical explanation most people would come up with. But again, most of those people had not been kidnapped, nor was Leon S Kennedy the one who did it. 

A few days ago, you had played with his nerves more than ever.

You took a small knife from the kitchen when he allowed you to watch him cook. Trying to be sneaky was harder than it sounds. 

You have been his good girl for a whole month, yet trying to steal a knife to kill him. 

Little did you know, Leon had already noticed your little trick, sneakily putting it in your sleeve while you kissed him.

He was happy that you were showing affection without any fuss at first. But when he saw your true intentions, he was furious. 

That same night you tried to stab him when he was sleeping. Or pretending to be asleep, waiting for the right moment to give you what you were itching for.

To say the least, you got your punishment.

Even though you got him mad a couple times during the months you lived in the isolated house, it was never this bad. It never went as far as Leon refusing to acknowledge you or tamper you like his usual self. 

Humans are social creatures. Communication was the key to survival starting from the ice age to the modern world. People need love, someone to laugh and talk to. Without these, life was darker than the pitch of hell. This what you felt like was happening to you. Leon was the only being you talked, communicated, snuggled in for a long time. 

Now he was trying his hardest ignoring and giving you silent treatment. Thinking more about this situation, it was half funny, half painful. 

If you start from the funny part, he was childish. The one who made sure to comment about how stable and mature for a family was now acting like a spoiled, mad 5 year old. 

At the same time, you realized you were truly alone. Here, in this prison of a house, you at least had someone to give a shit about you at least a bit, even if it was toxic. But thinking about your past life, you had nobody for you.

Hell, if you made a bet with a stranger your mom would stab you from the back if she wanted to have your boyfriend in her bed, it was not a lie you would lose a few bucks. 

You are alone in this miserable life with no one except a mentally ill old man. You were sure he had an addiction problem before by the looks of his face. It's easy to tell when you grew up with one. And worked to help those people, sacrificing everything that had the curse to be yours. 

Guilt was filling the room, almost drowning you till you can’t breathe. Even if he was shit, he still cared for you. Were you this pathetic to try to crawl back in the arms of someone you attempted to murder? Yes, you were. But who cares? Who cares as long as he forgives you? You are just going to pretend everything is fine till everything is not and the cycle starts all over.

You felt even shittier when the memory of you holding the knife and sitting on his lap when he was asleep, ready to slice his throat. If your childhood self saw you like that, she would think you’re a monster. 

But in the end, you were one. That’s why you have no one good enough that is willingly to stay with you. 

You had willingly pushed away someone that actually cared for you without even thinking. How stupid are you to try to do that? You cared and craved the attention that came with him. You were just not used to love that you immediately persuaded it as poison.

He locked you in the same room with no food and water for 3 days. No matter how much you pleaded, he wouldn't budge in. 

“Leon… Daddy… Please…” you begged again. You had already lost count of your whining and were begging for him to let you out. 

“I'm sorry. I won't do it again. Please?” 

Leon signed hearing your whining repeatedly in the morning before he even had his first cup of coffee. Work was already harder these past few days, your whining made it even more irritating. 

Hell. He should even add a little bit of vodka in his coffee since destiny decided to play with him again. 

Leon had already decided the love of his life bumped into him at the hospital, but he was starting to realize it was an illusion his heart made to bear with the pain of real life struggles.

Leon was starting to see the truth that you will never be someone he wanted. All he ever dreamed of was the perfect american dream where he had a beautiful wife and a few kids running around his house. If the Raccoon city event never happened, he wouldn’t even have looked your way. 

You were rude, wild, inconsiderate, and lacked motherly instincts. Leon was not even sure if you thought like a normal person. He was not blind to your personality. When he was carefully selecting you as his future wife and the mother of his kids, he noticed quite a lot of details. 

The way you responded to children crying, someone immature, or confused people asking for help or getting unlucky in life, he took notes of how you stare at them and how you respond with your body language.

He knew you were not a good person. He knew you wouldn’t be a good, caring mother. 

Despite the fact he refused to acknowledge your real self, he had hoped someday you will grow to love him and want to have children of your own. Little did he know, he felt angry at himself for giving you too much hope. 

In his own delusion, Leon thought you completely had given up the thought to escape and run away. Never in a million years, he would have imagined you holding a knife and almost killing him. 

Now, he didn’t even know if you were the right choice to go with for the rest of his life. 

But listening to your pleas, apologizing, and regrets pulled a string in his heart he hadn’t acknowledged since he was twenty something. 

Maybe you realized you were nothing without him. You didn’t have the basic needs of a human if he didn’t bother to notice you. You should be grateful. You should be grateful he takes care of you better than he takes care of himself. You should be grateful he chose to save you from your miserable little life before him.

But hearing your cries changed his already made up mind. It was something he would only do for you. Something he hoped that would change your mind about starting a family. 

Leon stared down at you with a cold glare as you whined pathetically before crawling and hugging his legs as you sobbed like you’re at your father's funeral. 

As much as he loves his parents, only one memory is engraved on his mind from his childhood. He remembers that day, clearer than water. Holding a bare white rose while people stared at the big hole in the ground as his parents were put to peaceful sleep forever without anyone interrupting them again. 

Standing there alone and confused why his parents would never come back. What did his parents do to be killed like that? Still to this day, Leon doesn’t have any idea why his parents were targeted out of all the people in the world.

His main goal is to never let any of his children go through that pain. Not in a single day he had a moment of lasting peace. Why would he not deserve a little dose of happiness others knew the taste more than once? 

You were his last hope. Last hope for a new beginning. To something he can’t have again.

“I’m sorry. Please. Daddy. I love you. Please, forgive me” you cried, sniffing your runny nose while kissing his legs. As much as you would have loved to make comments about his hairy long legs, you were not in the right position to be sarcastic.

“If you try to pull that shit again, your “daddy, i love you” is not going to work again.” he muttered before grabbing your wrists, pulling you up.

“See what happens when you disobey me?” Leon eyed your tired figure from the lack of food, shower and him.  

“I won’t do it again. I promise.” you muttered, hugging him hesitantly. It was a strange feeling for you. Even before you were forced to show affection, you never felt genuine enough to hug a person before. Sometimes rare visitors would hug you, it only gave you ick.

Something about it made me want to cry, while something else was making you angry at Leon. Where did his promise of taking care of you no matter what went when he was mad? Were you just a little toy for him to abandon when life gives him something sour? Is he someone that would abandon you at your lowest just like everyone else?

Walking into the kitchen you were greeted with a vegetable soup with a slice of bread, poured in the plastic bowl he bought for you specifically. 

“Eat well.” Leon muttered as he sat next, watching you devour the food. 

“Slower. It's not good for the body”

After a few minutes of eating, he brought you into the bedroom, showering you carefully before helping you put on a fresh set of pajamas.

“Sleep” Leon muttered as he laid beside, kissing your temple. 

Warm, soft blanket made you feel like a newborn being swaddled in its mothers tight embrace. After spending 3 nights on the cold flooring of the house, the bed felt like heaven.

Not to mention the fact, after a while Leon would occasionally rub your clit through your pants or give your nipple a hard pinch enough to awaken something in your belly.

As much as he missed you, Leon quickly learned you were even worse than him somehow. The way you begged for another round at 2 am at night proved everything he needed to know. 

“My baby missed me so much. Huh?” the older man smirked, feeling you clench as his pace increased. Your hands went back to the bed sheets while you babbled nonsense.  

“You see how much I love you?” Leon muttered as he stared at your dilated eyes.

As you nodded, he felt a satisfaction he hadn’t experienced in a while. Soon he felt himself finish inside you. 

“Promise me. Promise me that you would love me forever” 

You took a long shaky breath, brain foggy from the your body was being warmed by his warm cum. 

“I will… I will as long as you do” you said as Leon captured your lips in a passionate long kiss. Spit connecting you two still as he pulled away. “Sweet dreams baby”

Next chapter start: Leon grinned to himself as he started connecting all the clues God left for him. Your moody, bratty behavior, sweet cravings, morning sickness. He was trying to tell Leon his dreams are coming soon. 

Now that he knew you were with a healthy child, he was never going to let you go. If he had to fight for the sake of his child, he wouldn’t hesitate even if it’s you. After all, a child was more important than your temporary stupidity. 

[shmowder]

The depressed teen to enthusiastic adult pipeline is far too real

[dandyshucks]

brain is so silly bc I'm thinking "i wish Guz had cold hands so when I'm stressed he could cup my face and it'd soothe the itchiness I get when I start scratching at myself from the stress" and then I realized wait he's a fictional character. I could just say he has cold hands if I wanted. but he DOESN'T, i just KNOW that man is a heater !!! he will get me overheated so easily and that is simply something i am happy to put up with because i love him !!!!

[girlthativealwaysbeen]

bestie is coming home on 1st im having thoughts

[tiredsadpeach]

I think we’re at a stalemate after that text which tbh is better than I tweet and then he tweets about being annoyed

[aloftmelevar]

this day has been absolute ass

[acourtofquestions]

Kingdom of Ash Chapter 57

Chapter Highlights (most of the chapter is the highlight lol)

An hour before dawn, the keep and two armies beyond it were stirring.

Rowan had barely slept, and instead lain awake beside Aelin, listening to her breathing.

That the rest of them slumbered soundly was testament to their exhaustion, though Lorcan had not found them again. Rowan was willing to bet it was by choice.

It was not fear or anticipation of battle that had kept Rowan up—no, he'd slept well enough during other wars. But rather the fact that his mind would not stop looping him from thought to thought to thought.

He'd seen the numbers camped outside.

Valg, human men loyal to Erawan, some fell beasts, yet nothing like the ilken or the

Wyrdhounds, or even the witches.

Aelin could wipe them away before the sun had fully risen. A few blasts of her power, and that army would be gone.

Yet she had not presented it as an option in their planning last night.

He'd seen the hope shining in the eyes of the people in the keep, the awe of the children as she'd passed. The Fire-Bringer, they'd whispered. Aelin of the Wildfire.

How soon would that awe and hope crumble today when not a spark of that fire was unleashed? How soon would the men's fear turn rank when the Queen of Terrasen did not wipe away Morath's legions?

He hadn't been able to ask her. Had told himself to, had roared at himself to ask these past few weeks, when even their training hadn't summoned an ember.

But he couldn't bring himself to demand why she wouldn't or couldn't use her power, why they had seen or felt nothing of it after those initial few days of freedom. Couldn't ask what Maeve and Cairn had done to possibly make her fear or hate her magic enough that she didn't touch it.

Worry and dread gnawing at him, Rowan slipped from the room, the din of preparations greeting him the moment he entered the hall. A heartbeat later, the door opened behind him, and steps fell into sync with his own, along with a familiar, wicked scent.

"They burned her."

Rowan glanced sidelong at Fenrys. "What?" But Fenrys nodded to a passing healer.

"Cairn—and Maeve, through her orders."

"Why are you telling me this?" Fenrys, blood oath or no, what he'd done for Aelin or no, was not privy to these matters. No, it was between him and his mate, and no one else.

Fenrys threw him a grin that didn't meet his eyes. "You were staring at her half the night. I could see it on your face. You're all thinking it—why doesn't she just burn the enemy to hell?" Rowan aimed for the washing station down the hall. A few soldiers and healers stood along the metal trough, scrubbing their faces to shake the sleep or nerves.

Fenrys said, "He put her in those metal gauntlets. And one time, he heated them over an open brazier. There…" He stumbled for words, and Rowan could barely breathe. "It took the healers two weeks to fix what he did to her hands and wrists. And when she woke up, there was nothing but healed skin. She couldn't tell what had been done and what was a nightmare." Rowan reached for one of the ewers that some of the children refilled every few moments and dumped it over his head. Icy water bit into his skin, drowning out the roaring in his ears.

"Cairn did many things like that." Fenrys took up a ewer himself, and splashed some into his hands before rubbing them over his face.

Rowan's hands shook as he watched the water funnel toward the basin set beneath the trough.

"Your claiming marks, though." Fenrys wiped his face again. "No matter what they did to her, they remained. Longer than any other scar, they stayed."

Yet her neck had been smooth when he'd found her.

Reading that thought, Fenrys said, "The last time they healed her, right before she escaped. That's when they vanished. When Maeve told her that you had gone to Terrasen."

The words hit like a blow. When she had lost hope that he was coming for her. Even the greatest healers in the world hadn't been able to take that from her until then.

Rowan wiped his face on the arm of his jacket. "Why are you telling me this?" he repeated.

Fenrys rose from the trough, drying his face with the same lack of ceremony. "So you can stop wondering what happened. Focus on something else today." The warrior kept pace beside him as they headed for where they'd been told a meager breakfast would be laid out.

"And let her come to you when she's ready."

"She's my mate," Rowan growled. "You think I don't know that?" Fenrys could shove his snout into someone else's business.

Fenrys held up his hands. "You can be brutal, when you want something."

"I'd never force her to tell me anything she wasn't ready to say." It had been their bargain from the start. Part of why he'd fallen in love with her.

He should have known then, during those days in Mistward, when he found himself sharing parts of himself, his history, that he'd never told anyone. When he found himself needing to tell her, in fragments and pieces, yes, but he'd wanted her to know. And Aelin had wanted to hear it. All of it.

They discovered Aelin and Elide already at the buffet table, grim-faced as they plucked up pieces of bread and cheese and dried fruit. No sign of Gavriel or Lorcan.

Rowan came up behind his mate and pressed a kiss to her neck. Right to where his new claiming marks lay.

She hummed, and offered him a bite of the bread she'd already dug into while gathering the rest of her food. He obliged, the bread thick and hearty, then said, "You were asleep when I left a few minutes ago, yet you somehow beat me to the breakfast table." Another kiss to her neck. "Why am I not surprised?"

Elide laughed beside Aelin, piling food onto her own plate. Aelin only elbowed him as he fell into line beside her.

The four of them ate quickly, refilled their waterskins at the fountain in an interior courtyard, and set about finding armor. There was little on the upper levels that was fit for wearing, so they descended into the keep, deeper and deeper, until they came across a locked room.

"Should we, or is it rude?" Aelin mused, peering at the wooden door.

Rowan sent a spear of his wind aiming for the lock and splintered it apart. "Looks like it was already open when we got here," he said mildly.

Aelin gave him a wicked grin, and Fenrys pulled a torch off its bracket in the narrow stone hallway to illuminate the room beyond.

"Well, now we know why the rest of the keep is a piece of shit," Aelin said, surveying the trove. "He's kept all the gold and fun things down here."

Indeed, his mate's idea of fun things was the same as Rowan's: armor and swords, spears and ancient maces.

"He couldn't have distributed this?" Elide frowned at the racks of swords and daggers.

"It's all heirlooms," said Fenrys, approaching one such rack and studying the hilt of a sword. "Ancient, but still good. Really good," he added, pulling a blade from its sheath.

He glanced at Rowan. "This was forged by an Asterion blacksmith."

"From a different age," Rowan mused, marveling at the flawless blade, its impeccable condition. "When Fae were not so feared."

"Are we just going to take it? Without even Chaol's permission?" Elide chewed on her lip.

Aelin snickered. "Let's consider ourselves swords-for-hire. And as such, we have fees that need to be paid." She hefted a round, golden shield, its edges beautifully engraved with a motif of waves. Also Asterion-made, judging by the craftsmanship. Likely for the Lord of Anielle— the Lord of the Silver Lake. "So, we'll take what we're owed for today's battle, and spare His Lordship the task of having to come down here himself."

Gods, he loved her.

Fenrys winked at Elide. "I won't tell if you don't, Lady."

Elide blushed, then waved them onward. "Collect your earnings, then."

Rowan did. He and Fenrys found armor that could fit them—in certain areas. They had to forgo the entire suit, but took pieces to enforce their shoulders, forearms, and shins. Rowan had just finished strapping greaves on his legs when Fenrys said, "We should bring some of this up for Lorcan and Gavriel."

Indeed they should. Rowan eyed other pieces, and began collecting extra daggers and blades, then sections from another suit that might fit Lorcan, Fenrys doing the same for Gavriel.

"You must charge a great deal for your services," Elide muttered. Even while the Lady of Perranth tied a few daggers to her own belt.

"I need some way to pay for my expensive tastes, don't I?" Aelin drawled, weighing a dagger in her hands.

But she hadn't donned any armor yet, and when Rowan gave her an inquiring glance, Aelin jerked her chin toward him. "Head upstairs-track down Lorcan and Gavriel. I'll find you soon."

Her face was unreadable for once. Perhaps she wanted a moment alone before battle. And when Rowan tried to find any words in her eyes, Aelin turned toward the shield she'd claimed. As if contemplating it.

So Rowan and Fenrys headed upstairs, Elide helping to haul their stolen gear. No one stopped them. Not with the sky turning to gray, and soldiers rushing to their positions on the battlements.

Rowan and Fenrys didn't have far to go.

They'd be stationed by the gates at the lower level, where the battering rams might come flying through if Morath got desperate enough.

On the level above them, Chaol sat astride his magnificent black horse, the mare's breath curling from her nostrils. Rowan lifted a hand in greeting, and Chaol saluted back before gazing toward the enemy army.

The khaganate would make the first maneuver, the initial push to get Morath moving.

"I always forget how much I hate this part," Fenrys muttered. "The waiting before it begins."

Rowan grunted his agreement.

Gavriel prowled up to them, Lorcan a dark storm behind him. Rowan wordlessly handed the latter the armor he'd gathered. "Courtesy of the Lord of Anielle." Lorcan gave him a look that said he knew Rowan was full of shit, but began efficiently donning the armor, Gavriel doing the same.

Whether the soldiers around them marked that armor, whether Chaol recognized it, no one said a word.

"Ready now," Chaol called out to the men of his keep.

This would be it—today. Whether that hope remained or fractured.

Already, the awakening sky revealed two siege towers being hauled toward them. Right to the wall. Far closer than Rowan had last noted when flying overhead last night. Morath, it seemed, had not been sleeping, either.

The ruks would remain back with their own army, driving Morath to the keep. To be picked off here, one by one.

"We have minutes until that first tower makes contact with the wall," Gavriel observed. A scan of the battlements, the soldiers atop them, revealed no sign of Aelin. Lorcan indeed muttered, "Someone better tell her to stop primping and get here." Rowan snarled in warning.

"Archers!" Chaol's bellow rang out. Behind them, down the battlements, bows groaned. Fenrys unslung the bow across his back and nocked an arrow into place.

Rowan kept his own bow strapped across his back, the quiver untouched, Gavriel and Lorcan doing the same. No need to waste them on a few soldiers when their aim might be needed with far worse targets later in the day.

But one of them had to be noted felling soldiers. For whatever it would do to rally their spirits. And Fenrys, as fine an archer as Rowan, he'd admit, would do just fine.

Rowan followed the line of Fenrys's arrowhead to where he'd marked one of the bearers of a siege ladder. "Make it impressive," he muttered.

"Mind your own business," Fenrys muttered back, tracking his target with the tip of his arrow as he awaited Chaol's order.

If Aelin didn't arrive within another moment, he'd have to leave the battlements to find her. What in hell had held her up?

Lorcan drew his ancient blade, which Rowan had witnessed felling soldiers in kingdoms far from here, in wars far longer than this one. "They'll head for the gates when that siege tower docks," Lorcan said, glancing from the battlements to the gate a level below, the small bastion of men in front of it. Trees had been felled to prop up the metal doors, but should a solid enough group of enemy soldiers swarm it, they might get those supports and the heavy locks down within minutes. And open the gates to the hordes beyond

"We don't let them get that far," Rowan said, eyeing up the massive tower lumbering closer. Soldiers teemed behind it, waiting to scale its interior. "Chaol brought the tower down the other day without our help. It can happen again."

"Volley!" Chaol's roar echoed off the stones, and arrows sang.

Like a swarm of locusts, they swept upon the soldiers marching below. Fenrys's arrow found its mark with lethal precision.

Within a heartbeat, another was on its tail. A second soldier at the siege ladder fell.

Where the hell was Aelin—

Morath didn't halt. Marched right over the soldiers who fell on their front lines.

The pulse of human fear down the battlements rippled against his skin. The cadre would have to strike fast, and strike well, to shake it away.

The siege tower lumbered closer. One glance from Rowan had him and his friends moving toward the spot it would now undeniably strike upon the battlements. Close enough to the stairs down to the gate. Morath had chosen the location well.

Some of the soldiers they passed were praying, a shuddering push of words into the frigid morning air.

Lorcan said to one of them, "Save your breath for the battle, not the gods."

Rowan shot him a look, but the man, gaping at Lorcan, quieted.

Chaol ordered another volley, and arrows flew, Fenrys firing as he walked. As if he were barely bothered.

Still, the whispered prayers continued down the line, swords shaking along with them.

Up by Chaol, the soldiers held firm, faces solid.

But here, on this level of the battlements ... those faces were pale. Wide-eyed.

"Someone better say something inspiring," Fenrys said through gritted teeth, firing another arrow. "Or these men are going to piss themselves in a minute."

For a minute was all they had left, as the first siege tower inched closer.

"You've got the pretty face," Lorcan retorted. "You'd do a better job of it."

"It's too late for speeches," Rowan cut in before Fenrys could reply. "Better to show them what we can do."

Rowan steadied his breathing, readying his magic to rip through Valg lungs. He'd fell a few with his blades first. To show how easily it could be done, that Morath was desperate and victory would be near. The magic would come later.

The siege tower groaned as it slowed to a stop.

Just as the wall under them shuddered at its impact, Fenrys whispered, "Holy gods."

Not at the bridge that snapped down, soldiers teeming in the dark depths inside.

But at who emerged from the keep archway behind them. What emerged.

Rowan didn't know where to look. At the soldiers pouring out of the siege tower, leaping onto the battlements, or at Aelin.

At the Queen of Terrasen.

She'd found armor below the keep. Beautiful, pale gold armor that gleamed like a summer dawn. Holding back her braided hair, a diadem lay flush against her head. Not a diadem, but a piece of armor. Part of some ancient set for a lady long since buried.

A crown for war, a crown to wear into battle. A crown to lead armies.

There was no fear on her face, no doubt, as Aelin hefted her shield, flipping Goldryn in her hand once before the first of Morath's soldiers was upon her.

A swift, upward strike cleaved the Morath grunt from navel to chin. His black blood sprayed, but she was already moving, flowing like a stream around a rock.

Rowan launched into movement, his blades finding their marks, but still he watched her.

Aelin slammed her shield against an oncoming warrior, Goldryn slicing through another before she plunged the blade into the soldier she'd deflected.

She did it again, and again.

All while heading toward that siege tower. Unhindered. Unleashed.

A call went down the line. The queen has come.

Soldiers waiting their turn whirled toward them. Aelin took on three Valg soldiers and left them dying on the stones.

She planted her line before the gaping maw of that siege tower, right in the path of those teeming hordes. Every moment of the training she'd done on the ship here, on the road, every new blister and callus—all to rebuild herself for this.

The queen has come.

Goldryn unfaltering, her shield an extension of her arm, Aelin glowed like the sun that now broke over the khagan's army as she engaged each soldier that hurtled her way.

Five, ten—she moved and moved and moved, ducking and swiping, shoving and flipping, black blood spraying, her face the portrait of grim, unbreaking will.

"The queen!" the men shouted. "To the queen!"

And as Rowan fought his way closer, as that cry went down the battlements and Anielle men ran to aid her, he realized that Aelin did not need an ounce of flame to inspire men to follow.

That she had been waiting, yanking at the bit, to show them what she, without magic, without any godly power, might do.

He'd never seen such a glorious sight. In every land, every battle, he had never seen anything as glorious as Aelin before the throat of the siege tower, holding the line.

Dawn breaking around them, Rowan loosed a battle cry and tore into Morath.

This first battle would set the tone.

It would set the tone, and send a message.

Not to Morath.

Impress us, Hasar had said.

So she would. So she'd picked the golden armor and her battle-crown. And waited until dawn, until that siege tower slammed into the battlements, before unleashing herself.

To keep the men here from breaking, to wipe away the fear festering in their eyes.

To convince the khaganate royals of what she might do, what she could do. Not a threat, but a reminder.

She was no helpless princess. She had never been.

Goldryn sang with each swipe, her mind as cool and sharp as the blade while she assessed each enemy soldier, their weapons, and took them down accordingly. She dimly knew that Rowan fought at her side, Gavriel and Fenrys battling near her left flank.

But she was keenly aware of the mortal men who leaped into the fray with cries of defiance.

They'd made it this far. They would survive today, too. And the khaganate royals would know it.

Galloping hooves drowned out the battle, and then Chaol was there, sword flashing, driving into the unending tide that rushed from the tower's entrance.

"To Lord Chaol! To the queen!"

How far they both were from Rifthold.

From the assassin and the captain.

Arrows rose from the army beyond the wall, but a wave of icy wind snapped them into splinters before they could find any marks. A dark blur plunged past, and then Lorcan was at the siege tower's mouth, his sword swinging so fast Aelin could barely follow it. He battled his way across the metal bridge of the tower, into the stairwell beyond. Like he'd fight his way down the ramps and onto the battlefield itself. Below, a boom began. Morath had brought in their battering ram.

Aelin smiled grimly. She'd bring them all down. Then Erawan. And then she'd unleash herself upon Maeve.

At the opposite end of the field, the khagan's army pushed, gaining the field step by step.

Not helpless. Not contained. Never again.

Death became a melody in her blood, every movement a dance as the tide of soldiers pouring from the tower slowed. As if Lorcan was indeed forcing his way down the interior.

Those who got past him met her blade, or Rowan's. A flash of gold, and Gavriel had slaughtered his way into the siege tower as well, twin blades a whirlwind.

What Lorcan and the Lion would do upon reaching the bottom, how they'd dislodge the tower, she didn't know. Didn't think about it.

Not from this place of killing and movement, of breath and blood. Of freedom.

Death had been her curse and her gift and her friend for these long, long years. She was happy to greet it again under the golden morning sun.

[dreamsighted]

@taiicho

"Oh, Kiyoka! Good Morning!" Her head turns as her fiance joins her on the outside deck. Miyo had finished breakfast preparations a bit earlier than usual, and decided to just enjoy the sounds of nature as she waited for him. Truth be told, she was a bit too excited and just couldn't help herself.

The two had planned a town outing this afternoon since he had the day off, as it turns out. Outings had become some of her favorite ways to spend time with the man so dear to her. So, it was only natural for her to anticipate the exciting day that was to come.

"I hope you rested well. Breakfast is already prepared and is being kept warm for us. Yurie-san is here as well."

[novelbear]

scenarios for that grump x sunshine dynamic

a prompt list by @novelbear ᵔᴥᵔ

letting their chatty partner ramble about their day, listening with a small smile

sunshine toppling over them with the biggest hug they could muster and grump just giving them tiny little pats to reciprocate

grumpy going out of their comfort zone to cheer up their sunshine who's having a bad day

^ "look, i made pancakes! i even made a smiley face out of the whipped cream, see?" "oh, that's what it's supposed to be? you're so cute.."

grumpy calling sunshine names (dummy, idiot, chatterbox) knowing they take no offense to them, but the moment someone else does, they snap

"are you always this happy?" "i try to be, but especially when i'm with you."

sunshine knowing when it's okay to push but never crosses a line when it comes to grumpy's boundaries

sunshine comforting the grump when they're a little more quiet and snappy than usual, leaving grump a flustered mess because they're used to people actually listening when they tell them to leave them alone

"i'm not leaving you like this, i care about you."

sunshine taking grumpy on more active dates than they're used to (like ice skating for example)

[while cloudgazing] "i see a duckling!" "literally how."

sunshine making lunch for grumpy in the cutest way possible (little notes, heart-shaped sandwiches, always adding their fave snack)

getting into arguments about how nice sunshine can be and where it gets out of hand

^ "i was just trying to be nice!" "they were clearly taking advantage of that!" "since when do you care so much?" "i'm trying to look out for you!"

grumpy letting sunshine play with/do their hair

when laundry piles up and grumpy has no choice but to borrow one of sunshine's colorful little sweaters

^ and of course, sunshine coos and smothers them all day over it

"i love you." "i know." "say it back!"

[writersdrug]

I NEED waitress!reader accidentally letting it slip that she’s got a date after her shift and so when bartender!simon overhears, he suddenly has a list of things she needs to do after work, causing her get to stay late ))): missing her date ))):

ANGST TIME

He's been watching you like a hawk for the past two hours - and rightfully so. You've been rushing through your tasks, rolling more than enough silverware, keeping your tables happy and stocked - you somehow managed to convince Soap to mop front of house for you. He doesn't like it. Why are you trying to get away?

"Got a date tonight." You tell him, skimming through your receipts as you sit at the bar and calculate your tips. You're not off the clock yet - you still have thirty minutes left. But the restaurant's empty, and all your tasks are done. Your makeup is a little nicer today, softer and less "morning after a deftones concert".

Simon's thankful for the mask, or else his frown would be impossible to miss. Is he dumb? Haven't you been flirting with him all week? Was this another one of your games, pretending to act innocent and coy, messing with him, then announcing you're going out with someone else?!

He feels his shoulders tensing as he watches you tap away at your phone's calculator. He shouldn't be so bothered by this - some things just need to be let go. But he can't. He wants to keep you in his back pocket, or in an empty whiskey bottle on his liquor shelf - not the one behind the bar, but the personal collection in his room on the third floor.

"That's nice," he grumbles, slicing through a lime. "Jus' make sure you finish your chores 'fore you head out."

"Already did!" You chirp at him with a smile. "Just need to do my tips, and I'll be done."

"Did ya clean the ice bins?" He asks.

You furrow your brow. "Huh?"

He jerks his head to the whiteboard on the wine fridge - sure enough, your name is scribbled in, right next to "drain and wash/sanitize ice bins + buckets", along with today's date.

You look back at Simon, your expression now crestfallen. Your date is in an hour, and you still have twenty minutes on your shift. "Don't you usually do it?"

Truthfully, he does. He could do it today, in fact. But his brain is acting on thoughts before he has the chance to consider the consequences. "Can't today, luv. Preppin' for a bigger crowd tomorrow."

Your shoulders slump. "How long does it take?"

"Well, you got to turn 'em off - one by one, I can't have two empty ice bins durin' a shift - then ya dump the ice, wait for 'em to warm up, then ya go in there with soap n' a rag, rinse 'em out, then-"

"God, can this please wait until tomorrow? I'll come in early and do it, I promise."

He looks at you sternly, and you suddenly feel ashamed for asking. "Wot, so I can pay you overtime?"

"Simon, please - if you do them, I'll give you half my tips for today."

"Now y' dumpin' your work on me?"

"I've got a date!"

"I've got my own shit too!"

You snap your mouth shut. He's never been this stern with you, but you know it's well deserved. It's your chore, after all. You'd been wrong to assume he would do it himself, despite that being the usual. You quickly hop out of the barstool and make your way behind the bar, unplugging the first icebin.

Simon watches as you scurry around, running to and from the ice bin into the kitchen, filling up bucket after bucket of ice and dumping it into the sink in the back. You pace as the machine warms up, glancing at your phone every few minutes, then touching the inside of the ice maker to check the temperature. After a few minutes, you're scrubbing the machine as fast as you can with a soapy rag and a bucket of sanitizer eater next to you.

Twenty minutes have gone by. You're supposed to be on your way to your date, but you're biting your lip, staring angrily at the ice machine as it cools down again. You need to wait for it to be cold before you refill it with ice, and only then can you start on the other machine.

You make another attempt towards Simon. "If I just do one tonight and do the other in the morning-"

"No." Simon snaps, his eyes angry as he drops a container of sliced fruit onto the bar. "This is part of havin' a job."

You look away from him, tears stinging your eyes now. You're so frustrated you want to snap back at him - but he's right, isn't he? Maybe you could ask him if you could just call Max and let him know you'll be running late - but the thought of asking Simon for anything right now (other than more chores) makes you queasy.

Simon doesn't know where the anger came from, but it's still simmering. He watches as you continue to run back and forth, filling up the old ice bin, unplugging the second one, dumping the ice in the back... he's refilling the bloody Mary mix and restocking the bitters. Simple things. He's got nothing to do after this besides go up to his flat and sit in front of the telly, or maybe chat with Soap before he heads home. Why didn't he just do it? Because you had a date, and that was a problem for him. Why? Now you're upset, and it's that knowledge that makes him finally feel the shame that he'd been swallowing down.

You finish dumping the last bucket of ice into the second machine. It's forty minutes after your shift ended. You still have to get to the restaurant you and Max were meeting at, which is a twenty minute walk. You were supposed to be there ten minutes early - now you're going to be an hour late. Frustration mingles with anxiety and burns in the forefront of your mind. But you can't be mad. You should've done your job.

Simon doesn't say anything when you run to the back, your phone pressed to your ear and tears in your eyes. You barely manage a wave to Soap as you grab your bag and jacket and flounder back into the restaraunt. You don't look at Simon.

"I'm leaving now, I'm so sorry- I had to finish up at work and it too longer than I-" you slowed to a walk, then a stop, standing in the middle of the floor. Simon was frozen, watching your shoulders shake.

"I'm sorry, I didn't realize I had-... it's not an excuse, I promise I'm-... listen, we can go for a walk or something, right? Or go get fast food, someplace still open, just you and me, and we can try again another-"

His eyes burn in his skull as he watches you stand there for a few more seconds, staring at your phone as the call disappears from the screen. He wants to say something - but what can he say? He's already fucked you over. And he doesn't feel any better than when he first discovered your little date. He feels worse.

You stuff your phone in your back pocket, unable to hide the single, choked sob that escapes your throat. You shoulder your bag and stomp your way out of the restaurant, door clanging behind you. Your bike is still in the alley out back, and your unfinished tips are still on the bartop. He wouldn't be surprised if you never come back to collect them.

Soap emerges from the kitchen breaking Simon from his thoughts and wiping his hands on a rag. "Real feckin' kind of ye, Ghost. Never seen such a right cunt." He glares at Simon, before slapping the rag on the table and heading back into the kitchen. His shift was over, too.

Simon has three more hours left to deal with himself before the bar closes.

[sapphire-writes]

the winner takes it all

Art x Reader x Tashi

summary: winners deserve rewards, and Tashi is more than happy to spoil her star athlete with the help of her ever-dutiful husband.

word count: 2.7k

rating: mature/explicit/18+

warnings: porn no plot (deep breath) m/f/f dynamic, threesome, dom!Tashi, switch!Art, sub!Reader, p in v, creampie, overstim, hair pulling, titty play, use of toys, praise, teasing, spanking, orgasm denial, oral (fem receiving), oral (reader giving fem), face sitting

note: hope you enjoy! my first non-HOTD related fic!

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Your match had taken place several hours ago. You’d been anxious the entire time, but ended up winning, much to you and your coach’s pleasure. The ride back to the hotel was torturous, as well as the following mandatory ice bath, sauna, shower, and footage review. It was the routine you’d followed ever since Tashi began coaching you.

She was nothing if not thorough.

After tying up several loose ends, including Tashi grilling you for every point you missed, every fault she could see when she paused the footage, you now found yourself in a more pleasurable position. 

Art held your legs open as he continued his even thrusts, cock sliding against the walls of your pussy at a torturous pace. Tashi sat beside you, clad only in a silk robe and lace panties, brushing some hair from your face that was sticking to your forehead with perspiration.

You had the suite to yourself for the night. Tashi and Art’s little girl was safely tucked away with her grandmother in another elegant suite on the other side of the hotel. Another part of the routine. 

“Tash….”

“You did well out there today,” she interrupts, reaching beside her to the end table drawer and pulling out her Hitachi wand. It buzzes to life as she turns it on and a strangled whine leaves your throat as she presses it to your clit,  “See what happens when you put in the extra time? That backhand of yours is a lethal weapon now.”

“Fuck!” is the only response you’re able to give as Art moans at the vibrations as he continues to pound into you. 

She likes you best like this, fucked dumb on Art’s cock, mindlessly agreeing to her plans for future matches, eyes rolling back in your head. Different moves she’ll have you practice. How hard she plans to work you on the court the following morning. 

“Come on, come for me,” Tashi insists, hand trailing over your breasts, “What’s my girl need to come, hm? Need these pretty tits attended to?” She pinches your nipple for emphasis and your jaw slacks, a pleasurable current in your gut winding tighter and tighter with the continuous stimulation.

Art slings your left leg over his shoulder, pressing a tender kiss to your calf as he does so. 

The new angle sends him deeper inside of you and you clench, mouth falling open with an uncontrollable moan.

“That’s it,” Tashi murmurs, eyes never leaving your face, “Feels so good doesn’t it? Art knows how to treat his girl, huh? Don’t you baby?”

“Yes,” he hissed between clenched teeth, beads of sweat forming on his brow, “Fucking perfect pussy, god—”

Tashi removes her hand from your breast, taking hold of your chin.

“Look at me.”

Your eyes water with pleasurable tears but you do as she asks, always keen to follow her instructions. The tennis court, the bedroom, it was all the same playing field in the end.

“Come on baby,” she murmurs, leaning down and pressing a kiss against your lips, “Come for me, you’ve been such a good girl, you deserve it.”

“Fuck!” Art courses as your pussy tightens around him, “Oh uhhh—”

“I’m cumming,” you helplessly whimper, the words nearly a sob, “Tashi…..fuck….Art fuck feels so—-“ your abdominal muscles tense as your reach your peak, white-hot ecstasy flooding your body as a shudder rolls through you. 

Tashi smiles as you come, fingers dancing down your neck. Art fucks you through it, leaning forward to pound into you at a harder rhythm, chasing his imminent release. It’s only then Tashi glances at him, her smile dropping slightly.

“Don’t cum.”

Art’s hips stutter as your walls continue to flutter around his thick length, his jaw slacks, eyes watering as he looks at his wife.

“Tash—”

“I said no,” she insists, shutting off the vibrator and throwing it to the side. Leaning forward, she captures your lips in a kiss. She sits up, a smile on her face as she kisses Art as well. He whimpers against her lips, hard and pulsating inside you still. But Tashi never changes her mind.

“You want to come, you should try winning.” 

“Tash please,” Art’s voice was strained, Adam’s apple bobbing, his expression pained, “please let me come.”

“Yeah?” She taunts moving up to kiss him. She brings her lips close to his, his eyes fluttering shut as she barely brushes the soft pout of her mouth against his. His lips part, head tilting to chase her. 

You watch from below them, still trying to slow your breathing. You like watching them dance, this push and pull they have. It’s hypnotizing, the effect she has on him. On you. Tashi pushes his chest and his eyes flutter open.

“Sit.” 

Tashi nods to the chair in the corner of the room. Art hesitates and she raises a brow when he doesn’t move quickly enough. Teeth clenched, Art unsheathes his aching cock from your warmth, hissing as he pulls completely out. Your breath hitches at the loss of him, and you gaze up at Tashi waiting for her next instruction. 

Fully naked, Art walks to the chair, cock hard and swinging between his legs as though he’s nothing more than a scolded pup. 

Tashi stands walking over to him, and Art tilts his chin to meet her eyes. Slowly, she lets the silk robe fall from her shoulders, and she takes her time removing it and placing it on his lap. You can see his erection through the soft purple fabric. 

“Hold that for me, would you?” she asks, turning back to face you.

You can’t help it as your gaze falls to her breasts; supple and mouth-watering, dark nipples taunting you. The dip of flesh between her abdominal muscles, a spot you’ve run your tongue along countless times now. Tashi rejoins you on the bed, lying next to you, looping her thumbs in the waistband of her lace panties. 

“You want a taste, baby?” she asks, smiling slightly at you.

You nod eagerly as she beckons you with a tilt of her chin. Scrambling into a kneeling position you slot yourself between Tashi’s toned legs, replacing her fingers and gently pulling off her lace panties, tossing them to the side and revealing her glistening sex.

Two things turn Tashi on. Telling you and Art what to do, and tennis.

Tashi brings her hand down her front tracing down her toned stomach until she reaches the soft curls that frame her pussy. She takes two fingers and spreads herself before you. 

“Come on, baby,” she murmurs, her voice low and seductive, “Eat up.”

She’s an enchantress, you swear, using some sort of siren song to pull you in. Even here between her legs, she’s in charge; it’s you who’s helpless. You lower your face toward her pussy, already drunk on the scent of her even before your tongue reaches her warm slit. 

You couldn’t hold in your moan of pleasured relief even if you tried as your tongue dipped lower, parting her lips and dipping inside her right entrance. There’s something about her, how she feels, how she tastes. You’ll never get enough of it. You nuzzle closer to her, nose bumping against her clit and she rewards you with a breathy sigh. 

“Art,” she calls as you eagerly continue lavishing her pussy with attention, “How’s the view?”

“Fucking breathtaking,” he answered, his voice strangled, “Tashi please….”

“She’s so good,” Tashi praises, nails taking against your scalp sending pleasurable tingles down your spine, “Put that pretty mouth of yours where it counts. Show me how badly you want it.” 

Your tummy flutters with excitement and you suction your lips around Tashi’s clit, sucking the sensitive button as you hear Art stand up. 

“Put that ass up,” Tashi instructs you, her voice airy, nearly breathless. You arch your back, leaning forward into her as Art’s hands cup the front of your thighs. 

You wiggle as he kneels behind you, his breath on your pussy before his lips meet your pussy. You moan against Tashi’s cunt as Art trails his hands up your thighs, spreading your cheeks wider as he feasts on you, tongue dipping inside of you and then up to circle your clit. 

“I’ll make you a deal baby,” Tashi purrs, back arching off the bed slightly as your tongue circles her pearl, “If you make her finish before I do, I’ll let you come.”

Art groans against you, finishing with a frustrated whine as Tashi chuckles. You glance up at her, drinking in the blissed-out expression on her face, that sly smirk that reaches her eyes. 

“Deal?”

Art doesn’t hesitate, he simply redoubles his efforts, tongue entering you with desperate precision. Your lips falter, the pleasure messing with your coordination as Art ups the ante. You feel him pull away from you, and hear the wet pop of his fingers entering his mouth and leaving just as quickly. Then he’s breaching you, fingers slipping inside you with ease from the continued attention following your first orgasm.

“Oh fuck,” you whimper, squeezing your eyes shut as Art fingers you. He sets a rough pace, placing his opposite hand on your asscheek and squeezing the soft flesh. 

The two fingers he has plunged inside you to the knuckle curl perfectly against your spongy walls, hitting that sweet spot inside you every time he curls his fingers. 

“Come on,” Art murmurs, slapping your ass, “I know you want to come again.”

“Yes she does,” Tashi agrees, unable to help herself. 

“Greedy girl, never satisfied with just one, huh?” Art teases and Tashi chuckles at his efforts. Art never speaks to her like that, only you. Tashi prefers the more dominant role over both you and her husband.

Still eager to please her you sloppily continue eating her out, lost in the sensation of Art's fingers in your pussy, Tashi’s fingers in your hair—

“Come on baby,” Art encourages, though there’s a hint of desperation in his tone. He wants to come just as badly as you do.

“Such a messy girl,” Tashi coos, propping herself on her elbows, “Oh but so so good. I’m getting close…”

Art slaps your ass again, curling his fingers against your g-spot, and it’s no use. Your jaw slacks and your head lolls against the softness of Tashi’s inner thigh as your walls clench around Art’s fingers, your release barreling through you like a freight train. It knocks the air from your lungs, a desperate cry leaving you as Art makes a noise of triumph. 

“So you are capable of winning,” Tashi snaps, a little too cold to be simply a bedroom taunt. Art stares at her, before she sits up, “I haven’t come yet.”

“Let me,” you murmur, looking up at her, still lying on her thigh. She smiles down at you, stroking your cheek.

“You’re a sweet girl,” she praises, “But Art won. I think he deserves to finish in that sweet little pussy of yours. Would you like that?”

“Tash…I can’t,” you whimper, still sensitive and tingly from your previous orgasms, “I can’t come again.”

Her smile fades back to that familiar smirk. She glances at Art, nodding at the bed. Cock still standing at attention Art joins you both, lying on his back. Tashi’s hand winds its way in your hair, tugging you not so gently from your resting place. You follow her lead like a puppet on a string. 

“Don’t be ungrateful,” she accuses, pushing you towards Art’s lap, “This is a reward. You deserve this.”

Art’s cock pokes at the soft plush of your inner thighs as you straddle him. His hands move automatically towards your hips, rough thumbs brushing against you leaving goosebumps in their wake. 

He looks at you with wide, watery eyes, blonde hair a tousled mess.

“One more?” he asks, and you know at that moment if you tapped out, he’d respect it. Art was never one to make you feel uncomfortable in any way, shape, or form. 

He rubs your hips again, a soothing motion, and you lean into his touch. Something deep inside you tightens with want. You need him. You need her. You inhale a shaky breath and lift your hips, lining the swollen head of his cock with your entrance. Sinking onto him slowly like this is something else. The way he stretches your insides as you come to rest against him is a feeling you’ll never get used to. 

“Good girl.”

Art’s head falls back against the pillows and then Tashi pulls them from underneath him. Her husband knows immediately what she’s after and tilts his head back as she climbs onto his face. 

Tashi sits on her husband’s face as though it’s her throne. As though he was made for her and no one else. 

She pulls you closer as you lazily begin to ride Art. Lips crashing against yours she kisses you passionately, rolling her hips at the pace you began. Soon you find your rhythm, moving in sync together as Art moans beneath you, happy to pleasure both his girls at once. Tashi’s hand finds your hair again and she tugs your head back, latching her lips against your neck.

She’s fond of leaving marks. Art is hers through their marriage, but she likes to remind you that you belong to her as well. 

Art bucks his hips up into you, the head of his cock nudging perfectly against your sweet spot, just as his fingers had moments before. A whine leaves your lips and Tashi laughs against your neck. 

“He’s good at that, yeah?” she murmurs, placing soft kisses up your neck and returning to your lips, “Good with his cock, good with his…his tongue.” Her eyes squeeze shut in ecstasy as Art does something you can only imagine.

He moans again, fingers digging into your hips hard enough to bruise as he decides the pace you’ve set simply isn’t enough. Art’s hands dip below the curve of your ass right where it meets your thighs, lifting you with ease up and down on his cock. He meets you halfway, thrusting up into you as he slams you up and down. 

Your whines increase in volume, turning into elongated moans swallowed by Tashi’s kiss. You can feel her nipples pressing against your own and you reach out to caress them. Tashi gyrates her hips on Art’s face and his pace becomes more frantic as he plants both feet on the mattress fucking up into you harder, faster, deeper.

“I—” 

Words are lost to you as your mind goes fuzzy; that familiar pressure in your gut builds, a wave of pleasure cresting deep within you. Tashi’s mouth captures yours once more as she snakes a hand down your front, nimble fingers circling your clit giving you just what you need to reach your end. Again.

With that the rubber band in your belly snaps and you come with a startled cry, pleasured tears leaking from the corner of your eyes as you clench around Art’s thick cock. His hips falter only for a moment as he chases his own release, and soon you feel his cock twitch within your warm walls, his spend blooming inside of you.

Tashi smiles proudly as you and Art ride out your highs, the pair of you moaning, limbs jerking from the exertion. Everything’s a game to her. And she always wins. 

“Just like that,” she murmurs, hips still swirling around Art’s face, “Oh god I’m—” 

You watch as her thighs tense, her head dips and her eyes squeeze shut as her orgasm crashes over her at last. 

Carefully you ease Art’s softening cock from within you and lay between the both of them. Tashi on your left, Art on your right. You’re facing Tashi, watching as she comes down from her high, feeling Art’s chest press against your back.

It’s quiet for a moment, the soft sound of a kiss being pressed to your shoulder the only noise in the room. Art snakes a hand around your waist, fingers brushing the soft skin of your tummy. You giggle slightly at the ticklish sensation which causes him to bite down gently on your shoulder. Tashi simply watches, wetting her lips. 

“On the courts at five tomorrow,” she says, before standing, “I’ll run us a bath.”

Art sighs and you can’t help but agree with his subtle frustration. Back to business.

“Whatever you say, coach.”

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