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angellayercake · 2 days

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Banchetto: Formaggi e Frutta

Papa Emeritus III x Reader | NSFW

AO3 | Insalata | Masterpost

Selecting the pairings for cheese can be deceptively complicated. Anyone can put some cheese on a tray and call it done but for it to be truly good some serious thought needs to be done. Texture, flavour, sweet vs savoury, creamy vs crunchy, all build up to a well rounded dish. The first bite of a juicy grape paired with tang of a strong cheddar, or the sweet bitterness of cranberry with the mellow creaminess of a brie. Every element has to work together to create a bigger experience. If you make these choices with care then you will have a show stopping course and all you had to do was some slicing.

• • • • • • • • ✦ • �� • • • • • • • •

You had been lingering in his office. He was perched on the edge of his desk with his arms locked around you, preventing you from leaving and ending your time together for the day. The two of you had been in this position for at least half an hour, every time you tried to extricate yourself he would pull you in for one last kiss which became two, then three, then he would remember another important matter you just had to discuss right now. So far you had covered Cabaret the musical, why linen was the superior summer material, his favourite type of pen to do signings and the lies he used to tell people about ghoul mating habits. And now you were discussing your favourite cheeses.

‘I honestly have to say I don’t think I have tried a cheese I didn't like,’ you admit after listening to him explain why Italian cheeses were by far the best in the world. He wrinkles his nose at you, shaking his head in disgust. As inconsequential as these topics were, you enjoyed hearing his typically outlandish opinions and his passionate defence of them. You may have even been guilty of disagreeing with him deliberately from time to time just to enjoy his attempts to convince you of his point of view.

‘Even the stinky ones?’ He looks like even just thinking of them is a displeasure he can’t abide, the charmingly emphasised wrinkles above the bridge of his nose almost distracting you from his argument. ‘The French, thinking they can get away with crimes against dairy just because of a few good ones,’ he grumbles, pulling a laugh from you.

‘I think the English are guilty of that too, I am afraid,’ you remind him. ‘Have you ever tried Stinking Bishop?’

‘Ugh!! Never and I never will,’ he shakes his head again refusing to even entertain the thought. ‘But, cara mia, that is why everything Italian is far superior,’ he says, lifting his eyebrows suggestively and you suspect he isn’t just talking about cheese any more.

‘With what I have learned in the last few months I can’t say I disagree,’ you reply against his lips as he is already reeling you in for another kiss. You don’t let him distract you for too much longer though this time. ‘I don’t think you should judge a cheese until you try it with accompaniments though. The right flavours paired with the right cheese can make all the difference.’

‘I suppose there is some truth to what you say, mia cuocoina,’ he trails off for a moment looking like he is waging a battle internally before he takes a deep breath and continues. ‘Speaking of cheese, did you know there is a farmers market in town this weekend? I have heard they have very many types of cheese on sale there.’

‘I had heard, yes. It happens every month.’ You think back fondly to those trips out of the Abbey with Mona. ‘We used to take it in turns to go and pick up some obscure ingredients as a challenge for the others. I haven’t had a chance to go for a while.’

‘Would you like to go to this one? With me?’ His hesitancy makes your heart melt. How this man could ever think you wouldn’t want to go with him you have no idea? As if you don’t willingly spend almost every moment of your free time with him.

‘Are you asking me on a date, Terzo?’ You tease, hoping to ease his worry a little. The two of you may have done everything backwards but you can’t help the little thrill you get from the idea of him taking you on a proper date. He had been watching you nervously as he waited for your response but at your gentle teasing the corner of his lips pulled up in a smile even as a light blush crawled across his cheeks.

‘Si, I am,’ he says simply, lifting his head and looking you directly in the eyes, hypnotising you for a moment in his gaze.

‘I would love to go with you,’ you reply as soon as you snap out of it, not wanting to leave him hanging any longer. His wide smile always takes your breath away and you stand there for far too long, just grinning at each other before you realise you do really need to leave. You give him one last kiss before making your way back to your room, mind full of your upcoming date.

The morning arrives and you are up early having explained to Terzo that the earlier you get there the better. It would be less busy, you got the best pick of the produce and all the tasters won’t have sat out for so long. Taking your advice he had agreed to leave the Abbey around nine, and also on your advice you both were skipping breakfast, not wanting to fill yourselves up before you get there. But his morning coffee is non-negotiable…

After getting ready you let yourself into his rooms and start the coffee machine. You can hear him moving about already so you don’t worry about getting him up, but instead have time to fuss about… well, everything. You smooth your hands over your outfit as you wait letting your nerves get the better of you for a second. It’s not to say you didn’t usually make an effort with your appearance, you did, but your clothes and hair had to be practical when cooking even if just for him. This was the first time you had had the opportunity to dress up and for some reason it had your stomach in knots.

You wore your hair down today, letting the dark waves cascade down your back where they were usually secured in a bun and your make up was light as you had considered the time of day - just a subtle base and some eyeliner, mascara and lipstick to add a little emphasis to your features. The dress you picked was one you had never worn before. It was black, as was the majority of your wardrobe, but the light cotton fell softly over your figure, the hem ending at your mid-calf. It was buttoned up from your chest to your knees, giving a glimpse of leg and decolletage you hoped would capture his attention without flaunting too much. The puff sleeves and broderie anglaise finish the look and make it, in your opinion, the perfect dress for a date at the farmers market.

Just as you finish the coffee you hear him come to the door. You turn around a cup in each hand to catch him frozen in the doorway. With one hand he is clinging to the door frame and then other is laid dramatically over his heart. He is looking at you as if he has never seen you before. He looks incredible himself, his hair slicked back as you had not seen it for a long time and his face surprisingly clear of his paints, given you were leaving the Abbey. He is wearing an off-white revere collar shirt, habitually unbuttoned half way down his chest over tailored linen trousers in a soft dove grey with black woven loafers. He has a matching linen blazer over his arm, and he looks like he has just stepped out of the pages of a Milanese fashion magazine.

‘Good morning, Terzo,’ you greet as you go to hand him his coffee but he ignores it in favour of pulling you in for a kiss, letting go of the door frame and instead wrapping his arm around your waist and letting his hand glide down your body over the smooth fabric. You hum into his mouth enjoying his attentions but slightly worried about spilling coffee on you both as you hold them over his shoulders. ‘I could get used to this sort of greeting,’ you say when he lets you pull away, still seemingly at a loss for words.

‘Grazie,’ he whispers, finally taking his coffee and savouring the first sip before continuing, letting his eyes roam all over you. ‘You are, well… beautiful doesn’t even cover it, I think. Sei una visione di bellezza, come non ne ho mai viste.’ He does this every now and then, slipping into his native tongue when he can’t seem to find the words to express himself in English. You don’t understand what he is saying but the sentiment is clear, so you let the melodic words wash over you and let your smile widen in response.

‘You are looking very handsome today too.’ You cup his cheek with your now free hand and let him nuzzle into your palm. ‘I have been looking forward to this all week.’

‘Me too, cara mia.’ He places his hand over yours before taking it in his. ‘Are you ready to go?’

‘I’ve got my coffee, I've got you, I don't think I need anything else. And if we leave now everyone will still be at breakfast so we shouldn’t be bothered.’ With a nod and a smile he leads you from the kitchen through his rooms and out to the corridor, pausing only to lock the door behind you. You realise then that this is probably going to be the first time he has left the Abbey since returning from the last tour and what a big step this must be for him, as well as the two of you. You walk through the corridors quickly, leaving a plausible distance between you in case you were seen by anyone but before you reach the main entrance he leads you down an old corridor that, as far as you knew, only led to an older unused wing of the Abbey.

‘Where are we going?’ You ask him as you follow him along the twists and turns of the dusty corridor but he just shushes you and continues as though he is looking for something. To your surprise he ignores the few doors you pass coming to a stop at an old painting covered in dust, which depicts what you can only assume is a life-sized satanic knight posing in his armour in the landscape of hell. Without any further explanation he feels around the edge of the frame until you hear a click and the painting swings forward revealing a secret set of stairs leading down to a door where you can see slivers of daylight seeping in where it has warped in its frame. Taking your hand he helps you down the steps before having to give the door a shove once, then twice before it opens and you find yourselves at the side of the main Abbey just outside the tall garden wall.

‘This is the way we used to go when we didn’t want anyone to see us leaving,’ he says, shooting you a mischievous grin. ‘When we were boys especially and the older sisters wouldn’t give us the time of day we would sneak into town…’ He trails off realising the story he was about to tell you and his expression turns a little sheepish. ‘Well, you know how teenage boys can be.’ You shake your head at him good naturedly but take his offered hand so he can lead you down what is clearly a well trodden path through the public gardens to a side gate that opens on the main road into town.

• • • • • • • • ✦ • • • • • • • • • •

The first and arguably most important consideration when preparing a dish like this is making everything bitesize. Slice things too small and the flavours will not balance well, slice things too big and you will end up with all sorts of mess, but getting it just right? A slice of cheese, a piece of fruit, a spoonful of chutney, a sliver of meat could all fit on a cracker and be eaten in one perfect bite.

• • • • • • • • ✦ • • • • • • • • • •

It is a short pleasant walk especially on a morning like this. The Abbey is about half a mile from the town and despite the occasional comment or funny look, the residents seem to have accepted sharing the area with a satanic church a long time ago. The residents of the Abbey brought a lot of business to the local shops and trades people, doing their best to contribute to the community they were fringe members of which served to strengthen the tolerance of their presence. You yourself had good relationships with the local food stores, avoiding spending your budget at the supermarket as much as you could, so you had never experienced anything but a sideways glance from some of the more conservative members of the community.

After about fifteen minutes you reach the town square which is already bustling with life even at this early hour of the weekend. Rows and rows of stalls fill the usually open space and there are already plenty of shoppers drifting from stall to stall. Having finished your coffees, you take his and put them in the nearest bin before pausing so you can come up with a plan of action.

‘When I come with Mona we try to be strategic,’ you explain as you try and suss out what the closest stalls are selling.

‘Oh, and why is this? To get the best produce? The best deals?’ He asks inquisitively, tilting his head as he thinks. You wish you could say those were the reasons but it was much less professional.

‘Nope. It is so we don’t get too full before we have eaten everything we want.’ He laughs loudly, clearly surprised at your reasoning but you try your best to keep your face straight. ‘It is important you know!’ you insist as his laughter calms.

‘You have been training me up for this moment, no?’ he says, patting his belly and winking at you knowingly.

‘Bigger appetites than yours have been defeated by the farmer’s market tasters, I will have you know,’ you respond, doing your best not to get distracted by his insinuation.

‘Psh, I could eat one of everything and still have room for whatever delicious dish you have planned for tonight.’ He winds his arm around your waist pulling you against his side as you walk together to the first stall. You can’t keep up your serious façade, his confidence and manhandling bringing a flush to your cheeks, at least until you realise what he said.

‘Need I remind you it is Saturday and my day off.’ You prod him in the side in retaliation and he jumps slightly when you catch his ticklish spot. He grabs your finger before you can poke him again, a little tug of war ensuing before he lets you free with a stern look.

‘Well I can cook for you then,’ he says, snapping his fingers as the idea comes to him. You dip your head for a moment, your chest feeling full at his insistence you spend even more of today together. Until the reality of him cooking anything for you sinks in. You had long suspected that he lacked even the most basic cooking skills, which was confirmed the only time you ever let him try to help you.

‘And what exactly are you going to cook for me?’ You ask as you reach the first stall filled with assorted jars of conserves and jams.

‘I will cook…’ He pauses, looking around at the closet stalls. ‘Cheese!’ he exclaims loudly, drawing some looks and a chuckle from the cheesemonger a couple of stalls over. He clears his throat, quieting his voice. ‘Cheese, cara mia, like we talked about the other night. Cheese and crackers and fruit and chutney. Like this!’ He picks up a jar of spiced cranberry chutney from the stall.

‘That will be 55 krona please, sir,’ the lady behind the stall tells him. He hands the jar to you and fishes his wallet out of his pocket, handing her cash and insisting she keep the change.

‘That’s not exactly cooking is it,’ you scoff, putting the jar in one of the many tote bags you had thought to bring along. ‘But that being said, I would be happy to join you this evening.’

‘Maybe not but I can assure you I will put a lot more effort into dessert,’ he replies with a smirk as he pulls you towards the cheesemonger. ‘Now, Signior, I need a selection of your best cheese for mia cuocoina, and a little advice.’

He leads the way around the market, insisting on tasting this and that and asking questions of the vendors about flavour pairings and serving suggestions until your tote bags are beginning to weigh you both down. You find a bench at the edge of the square and flop down onto it taking the weight off your aching shoulders. He follows after you, sliding the bags to one side so he can sit right beside you.

‘Try this, cara mia,’ he holds a small pastry to your lips, one he has already tried if the tell tale crumbs around his lips were anything to go buy. You almost refuse, your tactical plan having flown out the window long ago at his insistence you taste test almost everything. He looks at you beseechingly though and you cave, opening your mouth and allowing him to feed it to you. Before he can pull away though you close your lips around his fingers, getting your own back the only way you can right now. He freezes, his pupils blown wide as he watches you suck the tips of his fingers.

‘Fancy seeing you here.’ A voice you recognise breaks through your lustful haze. You almost choke between the pastry and Terzo whipping his fingers from your mouth as if they were burning. You swallow your mouthful without even registering if it was nice or not as you turn to see Lilly and Rich stood before you. You jump up quickly, offering them each a hug, then trying to stand between them and Terzo, wracking your brain to explain why you were out in public with Papa's fingers in your mouth.

‘Hi guys, what a lovely surprise. You should really try the pastries from over there, they are very good…’ You can feel your face burning completely at a loss on how to explain away what they must have seen.

‘Will Papa hand feed them to us as well?’ Rich asks sardonically, looking at you with your eyebrows raised as if waiting for an answer. At least until Lilly elbows him sharply in the ribs.

‘It’s so nice to see you and to see you too, Papa. Hello!’ She says leaning around you to offer Terzo a wave. He stands dusting crumbs from his face and his shirt and carefully keeping some space between you as he shifts to see them both.

‘Hello, Sister…’ He glances at you and you realise he has never met them before and some introductions are in order.

‘Lilly, Ter… Papa, this is Lilly and Rich. We work together in the kitchens.’ Lilly smiles at him offering another wave which he returns but Rich still doesn’t look impressed, clearly wanting to confront you both on what he saw.

‘Ah, si. Hello, Sister Lilly and Brother Rich. And I can assure you those pastries are delicious whether fed from my own hands or not.’ He switches his Papa persona on, and it’s a little jarring after all this time. ‘Sorella here, I have tired her out having her carry all these bags of things I wanted. I thought I better not tire her arms any further.’

‘Right,’ Rich replies slightly at a loss for words. You don’t think his story has helped the situation at all but though he looks a little awkward and uncomfortable, it doesn’t seem like Terzo really minds the two of you getting caught, so you take a deep breath and relax.

‘All this shopping and eating… I could do with another coffee, I think. Si…’ He nods to himself, already heading towards the coffee stall. ‘Anyone else?’ He asks almost as an afterthought and you all nod. ‘Four coffees then, ok.’ The three of you watch him go but as soon as he is out of earshot, they both turn to you.

‘What the hell was that?’ Rich asks in an angry whisper. ‘I thought you were just doing your job and he was far too stressed about getting fired to try it on? Not that it looked like he had to try that hard…’ He had always been protective of the three of you, but you couldn’t help feeling defensive when he had no idea what had been growing between you.

‘Oh leave her be, they both looked happy while they were doing it. What does it matter?’ You smile at Lilly appreciatively, thankful for her understanding.

‘Guys, please just listen.’ You knew you had to explain something. ‘We, well, look, we just-’ You can’t even find the words to start. It’s not like with Mona where you can tell her everything and she just understands, not that you have time for that anyway. You glance over to the stall and see him standing in line, carefully studying the menu and certainly not looking back over every few seconds. ‘I… I can’t really explain what we are; not at the moment,’ you sigh. ‘But Lilly is right, we are happy, everything is fine.’

‘You do look happy, and he looks better too.’ Lilly says reassuringly and you breathe a sigh of relief.

‘Yeah, no one can accuse you of slacking on feeding him.’ Both you and Lilly turn to glare at him.

‘Don’t be a dick, Rich!’ she admonishes him, treating him to another elbow to the ribs.

‘What?’ He says defensively rubbing his side. ‘He is looking a lot more well-fed than he ever did before.’ It isn’t an apology but it is probably as close as you will get from Rich.

‘Could you guys just keep this between us, please?’ You feel like you are begging, but the last thing you want is people finding out about the two of you through gossip. You hadn’t really thought about it or discussed it but you were sure that Terzo would like to tell his brothers himself when the time was right.

‘Keep what? There’s nothing to tell anyway, right Rich?’ She threatens him with her elbow one last time but relents when he agrees with a flinch.

‘Right, nothing to tell.’ The three of you look at him just as he looks away sharply and he gets handed the tray of coffees. You feel a little relief but the silence is awkward as you wait for him to make his way back over.

‘Caffè for everyone!’ He announces on his return and you each take a cup.

‘Thank you Papa, that was very kind,’ Lilly thanked him genuinely. ‘But we better get going. We have a list. Mona has really taken to bossing us around since you've been gone.’ You know she is joking, but it still sends a pang through you. As happy as you are in your current position, you do miss them. ‘Anyway, it was lovely to see you! Bye!’ She grabs Rich by the elbow and drags him away with only one last glare over his shoulder.

‘Terzo, I’m sorry,’ You say slumping back onto the bench.

‘They didn’t know about us?’ He asks cautiously. He sits beside you but leaves enough space to be considered decent and keeps his hands to himself. You can’t decide if you are disappointed or not.

‘No, they didn’t.’ You shoot him a sideways glance and he is looking down at his coffee, his expression unreadable.

‘So, you haven’t spoken to anyone about…?’ He trails off, neither of you at a point of being able to define what is going on between you. ‘Even before, you didn’t seek out your friends?’

‘Well I did… Mona, but I trust her. She would never say anything.’ He holds up a hand to halt you and you feel a bubble of panic starting to grow in your chest.

‘That’s not what I meant, cara mia.’ He finally looks at you now and the bubble dissolves. His eyes are warm, full of care. ‘I am glad you spoke to your friend about this, just as I am glad of her discretion. I would hate to think about you being so upset and also alone.’

‘You were dealing with it all alone.’ His hand rests on the bench between you and you place yours over the top. It feels wrong not to be touching at all during such a conversation.

‘Ah, I am used to it,’ he says, brushing you off. ‘I am used to it.’ He turns his hand under yours loosely lacing your fingers together. ‘And anyway, I am not alone anymore am I?’ It’s a slow smile that grows across his face, like he is only just realising it now.

‘No you aren’t,’ you confirm, squeezing his hand and returning his smile. If you had your way he would never be alone again.

‘May I ask,’ he pauses like he isn’t sure he wants to ask what he is about to say. ‘Why you didn’t tell your other friends?’ But this is something you can easily offer him an answer to.

‘Well it’s just… Lilly is young, she is only twenty. It feels a little odd talking to her about relationships when she feels like a little sister, and Rich? Well, he is the biggest gossip in the whole kitchen. It’s not that I don’t trust him, but he just gets a little carried away sometimes.’ You can’t help your fond smile. ‘And he is pretty protective of us, even if he can be a little bit of a dick about it.’

‘I see, I see.’ He seems happy enough accepting your reasons. ‘Are you ok?’ He inches a little closer now, already over keeping a sensible distance.

‘Yeah, I am.’ You decide even as you are saying it. The confrontation with your friends could have gone better, but it could have gone a lot worse. And it’s better you get caught by your friends then any other random inhabitant of the Abbey. In fact, you should have foreseen this happening, going out together so close to home. You wonder if he feels the same though. ‘Are you?’

‘Si, I think it is time to go home though,’ he says and you nod in agreement. You think you have both had enough excitement for today. ‘I called for a car while I was waiting for the coffee,’ he admits a little sheepishly.

‘Oh, thank Satan.’ Your relief is palpable, both your full stomach and your sore shoulders thankful. ‘I thought we were going to have to carry all of this back.’

• • • • • • • • ✦ • • • • • • • • • •

Presentation is the second most important consideration and for that you need a suitable foundation. Depending on the number of people you are catering for you need a vessel large enough to hold enough food. The material is less important, dictated by aesthetic preference, whether you prefer wood, glass, slate or porcelain. Consider whether you need vessels for particular ingredients, additional cutlery to serve. By planning for all eventualities you make sure the meal is a success.

• • • • • • • • ✦ • • • • • • • • • •

With a plea from you and an order from Terzo a ghoul assists in carrying the bags back to his rooms, leaving them on the kitchen table before departing to wherever it is ghouls go when off duty. You begin to unpack, starting to sort out the haul to put in the appropriate storage but he comes behind you taking your wrists in his hands and steers you back out of the kitchen.

‘Mia cuocoina please,’ he murmurs against the back of my head. ‘I need peace for the art I am about to create.’ You try to suppress your laugh but it comes out an inelegant snort.

‘I can help,’ you reply, twisting in his arms to look at him. ‘Just tell me what you want me to do.’

‘No,’ he says, shaking his head. ‘It is my turn to make food for you!’ He continues shepherding you backwards towards his office. ‘Go have a nap, visit friends, whatever.’ he drops a kiss on your lips before spinning you back around.

‘You may come back in two hours,’ he swats at your ass as he opens the door and lets you out into the hallway.

You pause for a moment wondering where you even wanted to go. Going back to your rooms wasn’t very appealing, there were no distractions there and you knew the time would crawl by. The kitchens were out of the question right now if you didn't want to be subjected to the interrogation you were spared in town, something you were keen to avoid as long as possible. The gardens were an option except you could still feel the ache in your arms from carrying the bags around the market and you know for certain if Primo catches you in the garden there was no chance you would be leaving unencumbered by whatever vegetables he could give you.

Your wandering takes you past the upper clergy offices, mostly dark and unused of a Saturday afternoon but you spot movement behind one of the doors and you are not surprised when you realise whose it is. There is only one person you know that would willingly work on a Saturday and fortunately that was a person you had been meaning to speak to. Since you and Terzo had joined his brothers for lunch in fact. You had no sweet treats prepared for him today but you were sure he could do with a break. He could always do with a break.

Approaching the closed door you knock softly and wait for him to answer and the slightly frantic scuffling you can hear lets you know you won’t have to wait long. But a few moments pass before he answers the door. His exhaustion is plain on his face, sadly not much different than any of the other times you have seen him lately.

‘Sorella,’ he says with a tired smile when he registers it is you at his door. ‘How can I help you today?’

‘I found myself at a loose end and saw you were working!’ You explain as he holds the door open for you and gestures to the seat before his desk. ‘And why are you working on a Saturday?’

‘There is so much to do and so little time,’ he says, flopping back into his chair with a heavy sigh. ‘I was not busy today anyway so I thought why waste time when there is so much to catch up on.’ The clergy’s decision to remove Terzo from his position has caused more problems than you had first thought. You can’t help thinking how odd it is that no new Papa had been appointed after all these months when there was clearly a need but you set that aside for now.

‘Even you need a break Cardinal.’ You struggle to keep the worry from your voice.

‘Well you are here, let's have a break now.’ His smiles grows more genuine as he speaks. ‘I wished to speak with you anyway.’

‘Yes me too,’ you agree. It makes it easier now that he has brought it up himself. ‘I have been meaning to come and see you since the lunch but well, you know Papa, he was keeping me busy. Even on my day off he had me going into town with him to the farmers market.’ You are starting to worry your blush is becoming permanent and you hope your smile isn’t as sappy as it feels. If you plan to continue keeping your relationship quiet you really need to get better at schooling your reactions.

‘Si, I imagine Papa has lots to keep you busy.’ he agrees laughing but his face turns serious. ‘He is.. Well he is treating you well Sorella?’ He pauses, seeming to choose his words carefully, his fingers coming up to play with his moustache nervously. ‘Like a gentleman? When things are hard I think sometimes he can forget he is a good man.’ You sense that Copia may be talking from personal experience and having seen that side of Terzo yourself you are keen to reassure him.

‘I think I understand what you mean, Cardinal, he …’ You pause thinking over your wording just as carefully. ‘When I first began working for him he was different, while everything was fresh but he, we, found a compromise. He has apologised for some of his more thoughtless actions.’ Copia raises his eyebrows and you panic momentarily. ‘Oh nothing so bad and really, I had a lot of sympathy for his situation. I wasn’t expecting him to be at his best.’

‘It was regrettable what happened.’ He takes off his beretta and runs his hands through his hair. ‘It .. well it was unexpected for all of us, I think but it is good to see him doing better.’ He does look genuinely relieved even though the situation has clearly impacted him. ‘All this food seems to be doing the trick eh?’

‘The food probably has helped, yes,’ you laugh, and the rest you thought, keeping that to yourself. ‘But I think it is really just time, Cardinal.’ He would have improved with or without you over time but you do like to think you have helped him move on a little faster then he may have done otherwise.

‘Now, can we discuss those notes you brought me to translate?’ His direct questions bring you straight back down from your romantic imaginings.

‘I was waiting for you to bring them up.’ You know you owe him something of an explanation but you are not above waiting to see what he has worked out for himself.

‘They, well I suppose I don’t know enough to say really,’ he begins confidently before tailing off. ‘But they didn’t read like professional recipes.’

‘That's because they weren’t but Cardinal, it’s not my place to say more, not that I even really know anymore.’ In this at least you can be honest. You could probably make a good guess as to who wrote out the recipes but you aren’t willing to voice that now. ‘He gave me some recipes and he never said where they came from or why that was all he wanted and I didn’t feel it was my place to ask. There were things said at lunch that might have given me some clues but even so.’

‘Si, before. I noticed that too.’ He takes a deep breath before continuing. ‘It has not been long since I was considered an outsider to them and outsiders really know very little by design. If it hadn’t been announced that I was also Nihils son then that would still be the case. But even though I never grew up the way that they did, well Secondo and Terzo anyway, I was here in the Ministry already and I saw what happened.’

You say nothing, waiting for him to continue sensing his need to unburden himself.

‘I was brought up as an orphan you see and while most children in the church are brought up communally, orphan or otherwise, the Emeritus brothers were always separate.’ He switches into lecture mode but you still hang on his every word. There were very few people you mixed with who had been a member of the church for so long. ‘Primo has always been here, his mother was a Sister of great reputation chosen especially to birth an heir but Terzo and Secondo, their mothers must have met Nihil on his travels because they weren’t brought to the church until the were ten, Secondo only a few months before Terzo.’

‘What happened to their mothers?’ A part of you feels bad even asking but your curiosity wins out. You would not feel comfortable asking Terzo himself this but it feels like the last piece in a puzzle you had been building since you had accepted this position.

‘They just carried on with their lives I suppose. I know Primo fought with Nihil about it, that their mother’s should have been invited to join them or at least to visit but it was decided. No distractions, they had had ten years of normal life and now they were to prepare for their future as men of the Emeritus line.’ His expression turns wry as he continues. ‘It makes me almost glad that he didn’t acknowledge me until recently. I might have liked having brothers growing up though.’ You pat his arm where it rests on the desk offering what little comfort you can.

‘Anyway I know Terzo’s mother tried for a while, sending packages of food and presents for him but I don’t know what happened after that. One day they just stopped coming.’ Your heart clenches, for Terzo, for Copia, for all of them. They may be in some of the most powerful positions in the Clergy but it was clear they had all been forced to sacrifice a lot for the privilege.

‘It sounds like it wasn’t easy for any of you.’ Like any organisation there were machinations going on far above the notice of normal members like yourself, you weren’t naïve enough to think otherwise but you found it jarring learning that somewhere that had felt immediately like home and safety to you had treated these men so poorly.

‘No I suppose not.’ He rubs his hands over his face, the conversation having turned heavier than either of you expected. After a moment he offers you a tired smile. ‘Now tell me more about this farmers market.’ You while away the rest of the time describing in detail the stalls and the tasters and when you eventually leave you hope you both are feeling a little lighter.

• • • • • • • • ✦ • • • • • • • • • •

Once you have your vessel and your ingredients prepared then all that is left is the arrangement. There are endless ways to arrange the food enticingly. If you want your dish to be eye-catching and mouth watering you must consider the balance of colour and texture. You can create contrast with light and dark meats or cheeses. You may introduce pops of colours with fresh fruits and berries and mix textures with a soft cheese, a juicy fruit and a crisp cracker. Complimentary flavours could be grouped, the arrangement of your board encouraging certain combinations both traditional and daring. Your final result will be a visually appealing and delicious dish to present.

• • • • • • • • ✦ • • • • • • • • • •

It’s been a long time since you have had to knock before entering his quarters but it feels appropriate now, giving him a chance to finish the final touches to his creation before you enter. You almost reach the point of knocking again, wondering if he hadn’t heard you when he pulls the door open. He was still wearing his shirt and trousers but he had borrowed your apron.

‘This looks good on you,’ you tease, pulling at the strap around his neck, but he only takes your hand and leads you inside.

‘Now cara mia you are in for a treat if I do say so myself.’ When you reach the dining room he stops you, placing his hands over your eyes as he guides you the final distance. ‘No peaking now,’ He says as he positions you at the end of the table.

‘Ta daaa,’ He uncovers your eyes and as you blink you can’t help but be impressed. The centre of the table is covered in what may be every plate in the kitchen; each one has a different cheese and its suggested accompaniments arranged around it. You had fought valiantly for any cheeses other than Italian but he had refused to budge keen for you to taste all of his favourites. He pours you a glass of wine, a deep red and hands you a glass.

‘This is Barolo, aged in oak caskets it is the most decadent of Italian wines. The King of wines they call it.’ You take a sip and examine the flavours. It is rich, fruity and floral but with an earthiness that should pair well with your meal this evening. You were by no means a wine expert but your palette was well developed over your career and you can tell an expensive wine when you taste one.

‘Terzo this is very extravagant,’ you stop when he raises his hand.

‘You deserve the best, cara mia, as does this cheese!.’ He gestures across the table and you survey all the options before you, savouring another sip of the wine. In the middle he has laid out a selection of crackers, water, butter and grain in a variety of different shapes. There was crumbling gorgonzola drizzled with honey to calm the bite of the blue veins and topped with quartered grapes and shelled pistachios. Slices of nutty pecorino sit between folded slices of ham generously filled with halved figs and walnuts. Cubes of provolone mixed with slices of olive oil, cured sopressata and green olives and taleggio and apple slices wrapped in salty prosciutto. Finally a bowl of whipped mascarpone, dark red cherry and balsamic dressing pooling between the peaks and whole cherries and pecans sinking into the soft cheese.

He pulls out your chair for you, getting you comfortably seated then he goes to take off the apron before joining you at the table waiting as you take in the whole spread. It is strange being on the receiving end of such a gesture. You can’t remember the last time someone had prepared an extravagant meal for you like this, even if he had only sliced and arranged the food, it was clear how much effort he has put in to impress you.

He lets you start helping yourself to the plate closest to you when you struggle to decide where to begin with so many enticing options. The two of you are quiet for a time only pausing to express your pleasure with the flavours to each other. After trying at least two helpings of each cheese you sit back with your wine before your stomach begins protesting after your second round of overindulging for the day.

‘Thank you for doing this Terzo,’ you say as you watch him assemble another mouthful. ‘I’m not sure I remember the last time someone did this for me.’ He pauses before taking a bite, looking at you in surprise.

‘Is that so?’ He looks thoughtful as he finishes off his mouthful, getting every trace from his fingers. ‘You are very welcome, cara mia. In fact I enjoyed doing this more than I thought.’

‘Am I out of a job now?’ You joke just to watch his eyes widen in panic.

‘Hold on no no!’ He shakes his head emphatically. ‘I did not mean that at all. I will always prefer your incredible cooking.’

‘I suppose I will stick around then,’ you reassure him.

‘Thank Satan as much as this was fun. I could not imagine doing it everyday, multiple times.’ He looks exhausted just thinking about it. ‘You are a superwoman, mia cuocoina.’

‘I’m not, I just enjoy it,’ you explain. You always had since you were young and had followed your mother around the kitchen.

‘Why do you think you were so drawn to cooking?’ He asks. It wasn’t something you had thought much about before. It had just been a fact of your life.

‘Well I like food obviously,’ you say with a laugh but you pause as you think of what it is you enjoy most about it. ‘I think it's just such a big part of our lives, we have to eat to survive so why not make that as enjoyable as we can?’ Of course it is your job and has been for the longest time but there is a more personal element to it, especially when it comes to people you care about. ‘And you know if you can cook you can make your friend a delicious soup when they are ill, you can make their favourite pasta dish after they just got dumped or you can bewitch a man by making his stomach fall for you first,’ you finish with a wink.

‘Mmmm I see,’ he says sipping his wine, his eyes going heavy lidded as he regards you. ‘So this was your plan was it?’ His voice goes deep and teasing and you shift in your seat.

‘No, just a happy accident.’ You lean towards him without even noticing, so easily drawn into his orbit. ‘I think my food was just too good for you to resist.’ He nods in agreement, conceding to your point but this conversation is far from its end.

‘And what about you?’ He holds your gaze, keeping you attentive to his every word.

‘What about me?’ You ask, tilting your head not quite understanding his question.

‘What made you unable to resist your Papa?’ You swallow thickly. There are so many reasons you wouldn’t even know where to start.

‘You don’t need me to tell you how irresistible you are.’ you say instead. You aren’t against stroking his ego usually but you know he is well aware of his affect on people and you in particular.

‘I have my own charms. I am in no doubt about that.’ He says confidently and you know it is true. ‘You though? I think it is a little different than any I have seduced before.’

‘Oh?’ You have an inkling where he is going with this. You had your suspicions that there were a lot more feelings involved then either of you were used to in your past relationships but this didn’t feel like the build up to a heartfelt confession. He was looking at you as if he had been leading you to a trap and you had just fallen in.

‘You like feeding me.’ he states, matter of fact, placing his wine glass down on the table.

‘Yes we have discussed that.’ You are sure the two of you had discussed how you enjoyed taking care of him even as early as your first dinner together.

‘No we haven’t. Feed me.’ His voice is hard but not cold as he orders you but you hesitate.

‘What?’ You think back trying to clear your confusion and you remember the lunch or more specifically just before when you had been reassuring him in his bedroom. You had known then that he wouldn’t drop that forever but it still didn’t make you any more prepared.

‘I am not yet satisfied. Feed me.’ You swallow again, unable to control your body's reaction to his strict demands. You want to obey him, to feed him but again you hesitate.

‘Terzo …’ He gives you a stern look cutting you off before you can continue. ‘Papa?’ It comes out as a question but it seems obvious what he wants. He rewards you with a smirk.

‘I want some more gorgonzola, si,’ He encourages as you take a water cracker and begin to load it with cheese. ‘Plenty of honey too per favore then be a brava cuocoina and feed it to me. Then I will explain.’ You offer him the cracker and he tuts at you shaking his head.

‘Uh uh,’ he sighs. ‘Do it properly.’ He pushes the plates to the side and pats the table in front of him. You stand uncertainly but he pats the table again until you sit before him and offer him the cracker a second time. He scoots his chair forward forcing you to spread your legs to accommodate him but now he is in the perfect position for you to place the food in his waiting mouth. He chews slowly, moaning low as the flavours combine and harmonise on his tongue.

‘Mia cuocoina, I think the taleggio now, no?’ You take his suggestion, the rolls of prosciutto and apple are much easier to feed him. He watches you for a moment before continuing. ‘There were clues you see but I did not notice at first. Now though, now your Papa understands.’ You offer him the next bite but his warm hand closes around your wrist holding you in place.

��You kiss me differently, did you know this? After we have eaten, you like me tasting of food you made me I think.’ You feel like you can’t breathe as he begins listing all the things he has noticed. ‘And my clothes, you look at me differently too, when things get a little tighter, tighter than they used to be. You like seeing how I have changed with every meal you have fed me I think.’ You can’t deny it because what he says is true. A part of you had hoped he might not have noticed everything but with every word that hope gets smaller and smaller.

‘And now here. Your heart is racing and yet all I have done is eat a little from your own hands.’ He pauses to take a bite, his teeth sinking into the soft cheese and crisp apple and just grazing the tip of your fingers. ‘You enjoy feeding me, more than you realise I think.’

‘Papa I …’ You don’t know what to say. He doesn’t look angry or upset but you feel the urge to apologise even as words fail you. He swallows the last bite freeing your wrist.

‘Shhh it is ok mia cuocoina.’ His hands trail down to your ankles tracing miscellaneous shapes into your skin. ‘Cherries now per favore. The balsamic cherries with the mascarpone. His fingers creep up your calves ghosting the shape of you before hooking behind your knees. He pulls you forward until you are sitting at the edge of the table. You lean across him, choosing a butter cracker, the thicker texture better to support the soft cheese.

‘I am craving something sweeter,’ he explains. You bring it to his lips, the cherry juice starting to drip down your fingers and he catches it with his tongue leaving a sticky trail behind it before closing his lips over the mouthful. Your breath catches in your throat and his eyelids droop seductively as he sucks the last traces of juice and cheese from your fingers.

‘That didn’t quite hit the spot,’ he says, hands already sliding your skirt up your thighs until he can clearly see your underwear and the wet patch there is little point trying to hide. ‘Ah so I was right. You do enjoy hand feeding your Papa.’ He spreads your legs even further so he can lean close enough that you feel his steady breathing against you. ‘After all that fuss.’ He grazes his teeth over your clit, the material of your underwear protecting you but the threat still makes your thighs shake. When he does bite down it’s only on the hem of your underwear as he pulls them to the side leaving you bare to him for the first time.

He just looks at first holding you in suspense but in a split second his tongue is all over you yet somehow still not hitting any places you wanted him, needed him. Around and around he swirls his tongue over your folds, then the most gentle suction. Little sounds of enjoyment he seems unaware of that vibrate through you as he tastes you thoroughly. But his teasing as you fed him, his sucking and nipping at your fingers had already got you ready for so much more. Giving in you lace your fingers through his hair to guide him to exactly where you want his attention most but he resists all your attempts, making the frustration inside you build and build. You try another tactic grinding your hips against his face but he pulls away pressing your hips down onto the table and stopping any further movement and forcing a whine from deep in your chest.

‘Cuocoina, please. I am just trying to properly enjoy my meal.’ He pauses to lick a long stripe, tongue flat and broad to give you as much friction as possible. You can’t breathe, not for a moment, the sudden rush of pleasure the only thing your mind can comprehend but almost as soon as it starts it ends the only thing you can feel are the puffs of his warm breath.

‘But perhaps you would prefer to feed me this too?’ He positions himself that he is a hair's breadth away from you before his vice-like grip on your hips loosens. ‘Feed me’ he growls and you have to obey.

You grind your hips against him over and over, his tongue finding your entrance making your thighs shake as you fight to get him even deeper. Your foot loses purchase where it had settled on the arm of his chair and you scream as your clit catches the tip of his nose. One of his hands finds its way to your thigh helping to steady you but the other creeps up your body underneath your dress. He cups your breast over bra, his maddening fingers finding your already hard nipple through the light material pinching and twisting until you can't decide if you want to arch into his teasing hand or push back against his face.

‘Papa! Terzooo,’ you moan his name in frustration, struggling as your pleasure builds to take what you need from him but he finally takes pity on you, hooking both your legs over his shoulders and lifting your hips clean off the table.

‘Fuck mia cuocoina,’ he growls against your core. He sucks your clit long and hard until you scream your toes curling against his back. ‘Sei la cosa migliore che abbia mai assaggiato, cazzo.’ You barely register his switch to Italian, too busy chanting his name in your pleasure fuelled delirium.

You are so close to the edge when his lips close over you sucking and sucking while his tongue swipes over your clit over and over again. You can feel it building, a charge shooting through your nerves from the soles of your feet to the palms of your hand and you continue babbling his name, repeating until it is almost meaningless. He pinches your nipple, hard, and you arch up from the table with a gasp just as he slides a finger inside you curling it perfectly to press against your g spot.

Every bit of air is forced from your lungs as your orgasm overtakes you. Your ears begin to ring as the force of it pulses through your body and what feels like every muscle contracting and releasing as you gasp for air. Your hands are still gripping at his hair keeping him in place not that it is needed as he laps at you greedily, catching every last drop of your orgasm.

‘Making sure you are well fed?’ You giggle deliriously, still feeling somewhat detached from reality. You release your death grip on his hair and he sets your hips back down on the table helping you ease the vice-like grip of your thighs around him. His face is wet with your slick but it only emphasises his flushed cheeks. He grins at you in satisfaction, his eyes sparkling as he takes in the state he has made of you.

He pulls you back upright by your hands after straightening your underwear and your dress but this time no one could mistake the treatment you had just received. Your balance has not yet returned and so helps you into his lap where you can lean against his warm body. As you get settled you can feel his hardness trapped beneath you but as you reach for him cupping him through his trousers, he catches your wrist gently and instead wraps your arms around his neck. He distracts you by stealing kisses and you discover you almost enjoy the taste of you on his lips as much as you enjoy the taste of the food you make him.

He slows your frantic kisses down, only offering you slow pecks to help you actually catch your breath. He rubs your back soothingly over your dress and encourages you to rest against him but you still end up clinging to his shoulders to help keep you upright as the haze of your pleasure recedes leaving you exhausted. He tucks your hair behind your ear, his hand settling at the back of your neck.

‘Mmm, now I am satisfied,’ he whispers against your lips before distracting you again with his captivating kisses.

#papa emeritus iii x reader #terzo x reader #the band ghost fic #terzo #papa iii #papa emeritus iii #it's baaaaaaaaack #there is zero point even apologising now haha but anyway #i hope it was worth the wait #banchetto #my writing

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writeriguess · 2 days

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Part 2 for katsuki x reader where katsuki defends reader from bullies fic???? Pleeeeeeaaasseeeeeeeeeeee

The next few days after Katsuki’s unexpected intervention were strange for you. You’d always kept to yourself, maintaining a low profile to avoid unnecessary attention, and you liked it that way. But ever since the hallway incident, the atmosphere had shifted. Whispers followed you in the halls, not from the bullies, but from others curious about your connection to Bakugo. You couldn’t help but feel exposed, like a spotlight had been shined on you against your will.

What confused you more, though, was Katsuki’s behavior. He hadn’t said anything to you since that day. No follow-up, no acknowledgment, not even a passing glance in class. It was like it never happened. But you felt his eyes on you sometimes, sharp and fleeting, as if he was checking up on you in his own way.

Today was no different.

You sat quietly in your seat as Aizawa began his lecture, your focus drifting between the lesson and your own thoughts. Katsuki sat a few rows ahead, as usual, arms crossed and scowling like always. But you caught him turning his head slightly, just enough to glance in your direction. When he saw you looking, he immediately faced forward, his jaw tightening.

What was going on with him?

After class ended, you packed up your things quickly, eager to escape the building before you became the subject of more stares. As you made your way to the exit, you suddenly felt a strong hand on your wrist, halting you in your tracks.

You spun around to see Katsuki standing there, eyes burning with something you couldn’t quite place.

“Katsuki—” you began, but he cut you off.

“Walk with me,” he ordered, not waiting for an answer before pulling you along.

You followed him, too startled to protest. The two of you walked in silence through the emptying corridors of UA, the tension palpable. He led you to the rooftop, away from prying eyes and ears, before finally letting go of your wrist.

He turned to face you, and for the first time, you saw the internal battle playing out behind his fierce eyes. He opened his mouth to speak, then closed it again, visibly frustrated.

“What’s going on?” you asked, trying to steady your voice. “Why did you bring me up here?”

Katsuki inhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. “I’ve been trying to ignore this,” he muttered, more to himself than to you. “But it’s pissing me off.”

You blinked in confusion. “What is?”

He locked eyes with you then, and the intensity of his gaze made your heart skip a beat. “You,” he said bluntly. “You’re what’s been driving me crazy.”

You took a step back, startled by the sudden admission. “What do you mean?”

He clenched his fists at his sides, as if fighting against every instinct to shut down and storm away. But he didn’t. Instead, he took a step closer to you, his voice lowering.

“I don’t get why I care so much,” he confessed, the words sounding almost foreign coming from him. “About what happens to you. About what people say to you. But I do, and it’s been eating at me.”

Your breath caught in your throat as his words sank in. You never thought Katsuki Bakugo, of all people, would ever say something like that to you. He was always so closed off, so fiercely independent. But here he was, standing in front of you, raw and vulnerable in a way you had never seen before.

“Katsuki…” you whispered, unsure of what to say.

“I’m not good at this,” he admitted, his voice rough around the edges. “But I need you to understand something.” He stepped even closer, close enough that you could feel the heat radiating off him. “I don’t want to see you hurt. Not by anyone. And if that means I’ve gotta step in, then I will. Every damn time.”

You stared up at him, your heart pounding in your chest. His words were harsh, but you could feel the sincerity behind them. He wasn’t just protecting you out of some sense of duty. There was something more there, something deeper.

Before you could stop yourself, you reached out and gently placed a hand on his arm. “Thank you,” you said softly. “For everything.”

He stiffened at the touch but didn’t pull away. His gaze softened, just for a moment, and you thought you saw a flicker of something almost… tender.

“Tch,” he scoffed, turning his head to the side, though you noticed the faint blush dusting his cheeks. “Don’t get all sappy on me.”

You couldn’t help but smile at his reaction. “I won’t,” you promised.

But as you stood there, the two of you alone on the rooftop, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something had shifted between you. Something unspoken but undeniably real.

And maybe, just maybe, Katsuki Bakugo was beginning to let you in.

Requests are open. Send as many as you like.

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hxney-lemcn · 2 days

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Distance Makes the Heart Grow Confused — Twilight Princess! Link x gn! reader

summery: you find your life turning monotonous without your childhood friend around, but when he comes back you find yourself conflicted. thankfully, he has his ways of making you feel better.

tw: mentions of getting hurt (not described tho), hurt/comfort, linked universe.

a/n: ALWEHFDLKGJ I LOVE LINK!!!! Finally wrote for him!!! Words kept getting put down I couldn't stop myself. Also, heavily inspired by @maple-the-awesome's The Chain Meets You, His Partner but also vastly different lol (so go read that too if you haven't).

wc: 3.6k

Master List

Trying to ignore the sweat that dripped down your brow, you continued to watch Talon hack and swing at the dummy that was set just outside of Link’s treehouse. He had left, again, on a dangerous mission that you had little to no information about. Once again left in the dark. So you didn’t think he’d mind if you used his equipment for training. You're being filled with sorrow for multiple reasons, but the main one at the moment was for Talon, who felt the need to learn how to fight to protect the village. A task that you had failed at. Something that ate at not only you, but Rusl, Colin’s own father. It ate at you for a different reason than Rusl, as not only had you failed at protecting the other children, but you had failed Link, who had set out and brought them back. A task that shouldn’t have fallen onto his shoulders solely, but became his burden to bear as both you and Rusl were too hurt to travel, let alone fight.

You had cried when he came back (much to your embarrassment). Cried happily that he returned. Then cried solemnly when he had told you about how he not only saved the children of Ordon, but had saved all of Hyrule. Cried for just how quickly he had to grow in the few months of his travels, how he found solace with someone that wasn’t you (you knew that was selfish, but you just couldn’t help it). If the villagers had thought you and Link were close before, they were surprised that you had managed to become closer. You never left his side, always trying to do chores before he had the chance. Link needed time to rest, but you knew he would refuse to…so you had to force him somehow.

That felt like forever ago as he once again found himself placed with an even heavier burden than before. Traveling through different dimensions to kill some sort of shadow beast. You weren’t one hundred percent on the details as Link as rushidly explained that he was leaving and he wasn’t sure for how long. That had been months ago, and you found yourself taking over his role in the village. You were the ranch hand now, as well as the defender since Rusl was needed at home to help take care of his newborn. Which led you to this moment, teaching Talon how to defend himself. He was still young, so he had time to learn of the best stances, strikes, defenses, and more. And even if you weren’t as great as Link when it came to a fight, but you were still pretty darn good, which is why Talon asked you.

You were brought out of your reverie when Talon let out an excited cheer, jumping up and down as he pointed out the broken pumpkin that once acted as the dummy’s head. With a small smile, you congratulated the young boy, telling him to go take a break and play with the other kids. To your satisfaction he did just that, running off into the village as you let out a sigh. You didn’t mind the kids, in fact, half the village were kids. No, you just weren’t as close to them as Link or Ilia were, but they didn’t seem to mind your awkwardness. Just as you were about to make your own way into the village for your much needed break, you were caught off guard as you were brought into an embrace. Panicking, you went to elbow whoever decided it would be a smart idea to catch you off guard, only to be swung around in a circle. You grasped onto the strong arms that held you by your waist, turning your head only to see your greatest cause of stress for the past few months.

A mix of emotions washed over you as Link set you down, letting you turn to face him fully. Happy once more to see the man you loved, relieved to see that he was not only alive, but no visible injuries, and a bit annoyed. Annoyed that he just pops back in and acts like nothing had happened, like he hadn’t just left you alone again, like he hadn’t just left for a mission that could’ve left him dead in a world he was unfamiliar with. Where you would’ve never known of his status, if he was alive or dead, left to forever ponder the fate of your childhood friend. In the end, your relief won, staring into his azure eyes that shone with pure adoration and happiness.

“You’re back already?” You whispered, like if you spoke any louder he’d shatter before you and you’d wake from a dream. He nodded, always one who expressed himself with his actions instead of words. “To stay?” You clarified, and that was when your heart dropped. His smile fell, and his gaze drifted away from you.

Yet he still refused to let you go, if anything he pulled you in closer as he spoke in a similar hushed whisper, “Came here to restock our supplies.” Before you could ask what he meant by ‘our’, you heard multiple footsteps approach, causing you to pull away from Link much to his dismay. Each time he was pulled away from you he felt like he was missing a part of himself. He almost downright refused to leave you when he came back from saving the forest temple and saw you laying battered and bruised in your bed. Your despondent attitude had caused him great heartache, unable to stay and lift your spirits as he had to clear the twilight from the rest of Hyrule. Instead, he kissed your battered and bruised skin that day hoping that his love and adoration for you would seep through your skin and reach your bruised soul. Instead, it seemed his affection had done the opposite, and as you littered his own face with kisses of your own, he could feel the regret, self hatred, and sadness drenched in each and every peck. You had given him the most soul crushing look as he exited your room to continue his journey. He knew at that moment you blame yourself for the children being taken, for not being able to come and help him on his journey.

And just when everything seemed to go back to as normal as life could get, it got uprooted once more. That sorrow filled your eyes once more when he brought up leaving soon. Once more, he longed to stay by your side as your hand cupped his cheek, stating that he shouldn’t have the world rest upon his shoulders again, how it wasn’t fair he couldn’t just live his life like any other hylian. Deep down Link knew you were right, and as he met the Links from the other dimensions, he knew it was unfair that they also had to bear similar burdens. Yet at the same time it was a solace that he met others who were dealt similar hands as him. So when it was time to go back to his dimension, where you would be there to greet him, Link had been overcome with eagerness, wanting to see you once more, talk of his adventures, and give you a few items he deemed you’d enjoy. He completely forgot it wasn’t to stay, and when your loving expression turned sour he felt his heart drop.

Before he could try to cheer you, the rest of his group had finally caught up, causing you to stare at the multiple blond men who wore green tunics. You blinked rapidly, wondering if you had hit your head to cause such a sight, because it almost seemed like many Links of different variations stood before you.

“So this was why you were running so fast,” One of them huffed, the only major difference was the scarf he wore around his neck. An awkward air settled around you all, and you found yourself itching for a reason to excuse yourself. You’re sure anyone Link would travel with was nice, but you always had a harder time getting to know new people.

“Everyone, meet my friend,” Link gestured to you, a warm smile lining his lips once more. Then he introduced you to each individual. Apparently they were all Link, just from their own times/dimensions. It was honestly hard to wrap your head around the whole situation, but they all went by unusual names to clarify who was who. Your Link being called Twilight (or Twi) due to the darkness your land had fallen to years ago.

“It’s nice to meet you all,” You smiled politely, hoping to not come off as awkward as you felt. “Unfortunately I have to go help Fado with the ranch now.”

“I can–” Before your Link could offer to help, you sent him a sharp glare that quickly shut him up.

“You need to rest,” You scolded, and as your gaze fell onto the others you clarified. “You all need some rest. You should stay for the night at least, Link—Twi has room in his house to fit you all.”

“But–”

“No buts,” You shook your head, already starting to walk towards the village, the argument ending before it could even begin. You could hear some chuckles from the group, but you paid no regard.

To clear your mind from everything that just happened moments prior, you found yourself cleaning the goats stalls at Fado’s ranch. Clearing and refilling their food and water troughs, shoveling out their poop, stacking hay bales that will be used the next day, then preparing to herd all the goats back into the barn. A routine you had grown accustomed to in Link's absence. This was his job…had been his job, but it was yours in the meantime. It unsettled you how well the village could do in the absence of Link, how no one dared to utter his name. Or perhaps they thought the topic would upset you…they wouldn’t be wrong in that regard.

Just as the sun started to set, you closed the doors to the barn, ready to head back to your home and prepare a warm bath to rid yourself of the grim accumulated from a day of hard work. Of course things could never be so easy. Link stood by the gate, watching you close up. As you approached the blond hero, those tumultuous feelings from earlier rose once more, unsure if you could handle any more emotional encounters.

“Come,” Link waved at you, nodding towards the village. “Wild made dinner.” You planted your feet, ceasing your movements as you felt your eyebrows furrow. On one hand, you felt like you were being unfair to Link's companions, but on the other, you felt completely exhausted both mentally and physically. Waking up before the sun rises and falling asleep long after it sets does one to someone's body. Not to mention the constant work that was piled onto you, from working on the ranch to training Talon, you hadn’t had much time to yourself, and you weren’t sure if that was a good or bad thing. And when Link sensed that you stopped, turning around to face you, you're sure the bags under your eyes, slouched posture, and how you could barely keep your eyes open screamed everything you felt. The bone deep ache that just wouldn’t go away.

Still, he grabbed your hand. His calloused palm slotted in perfectly with your own. As he pulled you past everyone’s house, stopping in front of his own you almost gave in, too tired to fight back. Instead he quickly went in and came out with two bowls of what you assume is stew. You quickly grabbed the bowls before he could spill them on his climb down. Once more, he grabbed his bowl, then your hand, and pulled you towards the spring.

The crystal water lapped at your feet after you pulled your boots and socks off, curling your toes in the pristine sand. Both you and Link sat in silence as you ate, the starry sky peaking through the trees that swayed with the small breeze. Slowly, you found your body unwinding, each tense muscle coming loose with each small wave of the spring. The stew was good as well, filling your stomach with something other than the basics you had been forcing yourself to eat. You scowled into your bowl when you realized you were feeling better than you had in a long time, and that always seemed to be when Link was by your side.

Like he could sense your thoughts, he scooted closer to you, arm to arm, nearly thigh to thigh. Lifting your gaze, you were met with his worried one. His eyes searched your face like he was deciphering a language only he could…and in a sense maybe that was true. With a full belly and an exhausted body and mind, your eyes started to droop and you leaned against the blonde next to you. No matter what, he was still Link, still your childhood friend that you grew up with, and you’d always cherish him.

“I missed you,” He muttered, gently brushing away any hair that managed to fall onto your face.

“I missed you too,” You mumbled back, the warmth of his body inviting you into a peaceful sleep. A comforting silence had fallen over you both, making it harder for your struggle to stay awake.

“I love you,” Was all your mind could barely comprehend before you fell unconscious.

When you awoke the next morning, you half expected to be by the spring with a sleeping Link by your side. But to your disappointment you were in your room. Of course, being the gentleman he is, he carried you home and even tucked you in. You’d have half the mind to be embarrassed, but this was Link we’re talking about. You both had done and said more embarrassing things around each other than you’d like to admit. And when you opened the curtains you nearly had a heart attack realizing you were late as the sun had already risen a good amount. You shuffled around the room and put on your clothes, trying to ignore the thought that Link had undressed you for your comfort the previous night. Stumbling into your last boot, you ran as fast as you could, ignoring your rumbling stomach in favor of not getting scolded. (Not that Fado would actually scold you, if anything he’d be thanking Ordona for letting you rest a bit).

Arriving at the ranch, apologies lining your tongue, you felt your mouth drop at the sight of all the Links already at work. The smallest Link, Wind, if you remember correctly, dropped his crate at the sight of you and ran over. You winced, hoping that the crate didn’t contain eggs or glass, but got sidetrack as the young boy smiled brightly at you, asking a ton of questions right out of the gate.

“Good morning! Did Twi go out with you last night? What did y’all do? He seemed pretty happy when he came back. How did you both meet? Are you both–” Wind was quickly cut off as an older Link approached with a stern look.

“Wind, you know better than to toss crates around,” Time scolded. “And don’t overwhelm the young one with too many questions. Now go and finish stacking those crates.” With a pout, the kid gave you one last look before dashing back to his previous task, leaving you and the older male alone. Helplessly, you watched all the chores you typically get done ten times faster than you’ve ever seen, feeling unsure what to do without work. Seeming to sense your cluelessness, Time spoke up once more, mentioning that Twilight had stayed behind at his house. And so, you found yourself wandering over, only to pout this time. Link was watching Talon’s new skills with the sword, all the village kids watching them both.

Beth had spotted you first, shouting your name and waving at you with a giant smile, “Look! Link’s back and he’s gonna spar with Talon!” “Spar?” You repeated as you blinked. Talon was in no way shape or form ready to spar yet, but Link had a sparkle in his eye that only spelled mischief when your gazes met. Talon was jumping up and down, excited to not only see Link again, but to do something you had been holding off on. With a resigned sigh, you only shook your head, letting out a short ‘okay.’ The two got into a fighting stance, and you had to fight the itch to correct Talon’s incorrect posture. Instead, you continued to watch from the sidelines as Link let Talon start with the first strike. The skill difference was obvious, and it was clear that Link was going easy, but in the end, Talon ended up knocked to the ground. And as you expected, Talon complained, waving off his own mistakes and pinning it onto someone or something else. To your surprise, instead of asking for a rematch, Talon ran off with his friends following shortly after.

Bumping your shoulder slightly, Link drew your attention back to him, a boyish smile resting on his lips. After all this time, all the hardships he went through, he still managed to have a young air around him. You weren’t sure how he did it. You reciprocated the gesture, bumping into his shoulder slightly harder.

“I don’t know what to do,” You couldn’t help but confess. “All the work is getting done and I feel like I should be doing something.” Link looked up with a hum, tapping his chin in thought for a few seconds. That cunning grin once again settled on his face before he grabbed your hand and sprinted towards the springs.

“The springs, again?” You asked with a short laugh. “Didn’t we do this last night?” You felt your skin prickle as he sent you a devious look, picking you up like you were nothing and tossing you into the water. Thankfully, he threw you into the deeper part, or else that fall would’ve surely hurt. Wiping the water from your eyes, you sent the man your best glare you could muster, grabbing the front of his tunic and pulling him in further. In retaliation, he sent a wave of water at your face with a chuckle. With a huff, you tried to do the same, but the wave wasn’t as big as you’d like it to have been and you both laughed. You felt the darkness that had enveloped your heart slowly melt away as both you and Link played like you used to when merely children. Something you had missed dearly in the past few years.

As your playful fight slowed, you couldn’t stop yourself from watching Link, or how the water fell from his hair and dripped back into the spring. The last three words he muttered last night rung back through your head. All the love and adoration you held for him gathered into a pool, ready to spill past your lips, and who were you to fight that? Not you, you thought as you eyed his lovely smile, one you would die for.

“I love you,” You stated, heart beating wildly as Link turned to face you. At first he looked at you with shock, but that melted into pure warmth and affection as he waded closer. So close that you felt your body warm at the mere thought of his touch, felt your heart quiver in anticipation for his next move, and stomach flutter with all the love you held.

It was silly. When you were younger, you recalled that you’d pretend to be his spouse and play house. How you stated you’d both get married someday, and how he would always go along with your nonsense. You said all those things with your full chest before, but now saying your true feelings felt like a battle. It made everything more real, and as you grew older you assumed he had never taken your childish ramblings seriously. Yet you seemed to be proven wrong as he gently cupped your face with one hand, the touch sending heat blazing throughout your entire being. As he leaned in closer, you closed your eyes, expecting a kiss…only for him to nuzzle your nose with his own. Yet the disappointment was drowned with the fuzzy butterflies that flew in your stomach at such an intimate act. One so loving and pure.

Link’s actions screamed volumes louder than any words could as he littered both your cheeks, forehead, nose, chin, or anywhere he could reach with kisses. A bittersweet reminder of the day he came back after twilight had taken over. And just like that day, you reciprocated, this time with a heart full of light and happiness. Instead of ending it there, you pulled him in for a proper kiss, one you had wanted for as long as you could remember. He wasn’t as surprised by your actions as you wished he’d be as he reciprocated without hesitation. You didn’t mind his chapped lips, or the way you both kissed clumsily, because this was Link. Your Link. And you wouldn’t have him any other way.

And once you both pulled away breathless, ignoring how you both still stood in the spring with sopping wet clothes sticking to your skin, you took in the other's presence. The warmth you both offered each other, the happiness, the love, the need and the want. You were like two pieces to a puzzle, a part of you missing with the other gone. And in that moment, everything felt like it clicked into place. He may still need to continue his journey, but you knew that he’d always find his way back to you, just like he’d always know where to find you.

#loz x reader #link x reader #twilight princess x reader #legend of zelda #legend of zelda x reader #twilight x reader #lu x reader #lu twilight x reader #lu #linked universe x reader #linked universe #twilight princess link x reader #link twilight princess x readr #twilight princess #loz #legend of zelda link x reader #loz link x reader #x reader #linked universe twilight x reader

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rekino2114 · 2 days

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Yello! Fem Gojo X male reader forbidden love. What I mean is like Fem Gojo is a clan heiress of the gojo clan and male reader is a normal person, and they have been friends since childhood. But her status of the strongest and reader status as a normal human is keeping them from each other.

Forbidden love with fem.gojo

A/n:in this au the rest of the gojo clan is still around (do we even know what happened to them?)

You and satori gojo had always been best friends ever since you were small children, playing together in the courtyard of the gojo mansion. even when her parents told her not to, she still hung out with you. Around you, she didn't feel the pressure of being the heir of one of the big three clans, she was just a normal girl, not the strongest.

As she grew up and went to jujutsu High, you two could see each other less and less, which was a shame since you both realized you actually wanted to be more than friends but both of you were too scared to ruin your friendship so you didn't act on your feelings.

That was until after a conversation with geto and shoko she decided to confess, the strongest sorcerer shouldn't be afraid of a simple confession after all(she really really was actually) she teleported to your house with a bouquet of flowers and said she wanted to talk to you.

Before confessing, she decided she should reveal to you the existence of curses and sorcerery. She brought you cursed energy infused glasses so you could see the curses outside and killed them easily to demonstrate her powers and revealing to you that she's the strongest.

After you took all of that in, satori dropped another bombshell telling you that she loved you, and to her surprise, you confessed that you loved her too so you started your relationship.

Unfortunately, this wasn't easy as gojo's family still didn't want her interacting with you, so you had to keep your relationship a secret, only hanging out when gojo wasn't at school or didn't have to train which really wasn't that much time.

You comforted her when geto left her, and when she became an adult you were practically the only person she could truly rely on, and even then, her family considered you lesser than her. She wanted to yell at them every time they said something like this and even considered killing them, especially after the incident with geto, but she stopped herself from doing so to not reveal your relationship.

Gojo couldn't care less that you're not a sorcerer. You're her boyfriend, the only person she can truly be herself around. She loves you, and the rest of the gojo clan can die for all she cares. She only wants to have you forever.

"Satori, don't you have to go teach now?"

"It's fiiiiiine I wanted to make out with you a bit more, I can literally teleport anyway"

"*sighs* alright, just make sure no one sees us"

#jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #x reader #satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo #female satoru gojo #female satoru gojo x reader #fem gojo x reader #fem gojo #genderbent gojo #genderbent gojo x reader #x male reader #male reader

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howlsofbloodhounds · 2 days

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Howl I'm thinking about Nightmare's gang being a cult again.

Just how fucked up is it that Killer had to go through that twice? First with the Something New Player rewiring how his brain works entirely, while Chara meticulously breaks down his boundaries and reworking his identity until only they could decide who he is. Only for Nightmare to do exactly the same once Killer finally killed them.

And not only that, but now he has to watch as the same exact thing happens to others. And Stage 2 can push for apathy as much as they want to try and protect them from that crushing realization, but eventually it's gonna hit. Eventually Killer's brain is gonna let its thoughts wander in that direction because boredom is always gonna be the greatest threat for it. And then Killer will wish he'd never done that, because this whole time he's kinda been complicit in their indoctrination.

But, then again, by then he doesn't really know another way to live. He knows that once he broke free of Chara's very similar conditioning, but he doesn't have a concrete idea of what could come next. He doesn't know what life outside a cultish structure looks like and that makes the prospect of ever leaving terrifying.

I think Color coming in and showing him that there is a possible future out there for him is the saving grace he needed all along. And also the push he'll need to get the others out too. Because he's definitely not gonna let them leave for as long as he doesn't see an exit. Whether they hate him or not for it.

It is extremely fucked up. And that’s why I’ll keep saying that Something New is a psychological horror until someone eventually starts writing a fic about it. /lh

And the realization that hits is still very likely going to be tinged with that deep seated apathy that chara reinforced. I can’t see killer breaking out of his belief that he’s emotionless, that emotions are signs of being weak and that attachments are threats to his autonomy and independence, for many many years, with a lot of set backs, and I can’t see it happening when he’s under nightmare.

I don’t really think killer has broken free from chara’s conditioning—despite how much he’d like to claim he is free now that they’re dead. Because they cant be dead when their voice still rings in his mind, and their eyes still watch him everywhere he goes. A constant lurking shadow.

Chara never died, killer never escaped. they just became more elusive.

I think there’s still a lot going on in killer mind he doesn’t realize is conditioning, such as his belief in his emotionlessness. His kill or be killed, controlled or be controlled mentality. Even the reason why he turned on chara was still within the confines of what they taught him—the most determined decides fate, the strongest controls the weakest, and he had no need for them anymore. and so he will make them suffer.

with nightmare, i do think he wont even realize or care what’s happening to the others—because its just how things work. not until color comes along, showing him that things don’t have to be like that. before that, i can see killer helping only in ways that would benefit or amuse him, or whenever nightmare tells him to help someone—because he doesn’t think theyd ever willingly help him if it came down to it.

but if he realized somehow before color comes along—because he definitely wouldn’t take into consideration anything horror, murder, or cross have to say about it because they are apart of the weak/the controlled and they’re just struggling to realize that. it is inevitable, and it’s pointless to try and change it. or at least that’s his justification for avoiding any responsibility.

but i can see any attempts to “help” them being tainted by his worldview and what he’s been taught; such as teaching them how and when to avoid upsetting nightmare, teaching them the rules of the place, trying to teach them when to go to limp and stop resisting, how to learn how to enjoy the pain of themselves or of others. best ways to torture others, and how to “go away inside” if they truly can’t handle it.

and he definitely wouldn’t let them leave unless nightmare says so, which is unlikely. In his mind this place in castle can be learned and then eventually become predictable, they’d struggle outside of the castle because of who they are and what they do. that’s really the only kindness he knows how to give.

..i can definitely see spiting the Chara in his head for being a huge motivation for certain more “merciful” or “kinder” things. just to prove to himself they don’t have control over him anymore, and to spite them even beyond the grave.

{ @stellocchia }

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clockwork-ashes · 2 days

Text

All You Have Is Your Fire - Part XXVI

Find all previous parts on Ao3 :)

Summary: 'I can hear your heart beating through the stone.' For the briefest of moments, Lucien wondered if his mate would know exactly when his heart’s steady rhythm came to a sudden stop.

Note: A huge thank you to the lovely @sad-scarred-sassy who deserves all the credit for the post that inspired me to start writing this :) Another huge thank you to everyone reading! ALSO please look at this post, I gasped it's so lovely. All of @teddyhoneybear's moodboards are stunning <3

Tag List: @anishake / @nocasdatsgay / @mybestfriendmademe / @talibunny30 / @halfbutneverwhole / @wishfulimaginings / @goldenmagnolias / @emmers-bens123 / @cauldronblssd / @xirose / @rarephloxes / @thehighlordishere / @the-darkestminds /

Lucien could barely hold back his smile.

Elain was close to his side, pressed against him so that only her skirts were between them. Her one hand was holding onto his own, their fingers linked together and inseparable, while the other was clutching his arm comfortably. She was telling him about Nesta and Feyre, how the two always argued because they were so similar. There was a sparkle in her brown eyes, a brightness that only came when she spoke about those who she loved.

Beautiful.

Lucien found his mate particularly stunning when she was unworried and at ease. Loose curls escaped the confines of her braid, and he had to fight the urge to hook the strands of hair behind her pointed ears.

“Do you think that’s why you and Eris don’t get along?” She asked innocently, genuine curiosity clear as she tilted her chin to look up at him. “You’re too much alike?”

Lucien cringed, knowing he had wrinkled his nose in displeasure. He could scarcely remember the last time anyone had compared him with any of his brothers. “Don’t offend me,” he mumbled.

Elain laughed, the sound as lovely as daybreak. It echoed prettily in the empty corridors of the Forest House, ringing around them just as surely as it did in Lucien’s mind for moments after she had stopped.

Lucien shook his head with a frown as he remembered that they were walking to the study Eris had claimed as his own decades before he had even been born. He could still recall hiding among the neatly organised bookshelves, escaping to the cosy space even when Beron’s eldest son was not home. “I still can’t believe you told him.”

Eris had suggested that Elain try and release some of the pent up magic, claiming it was dangerous to do so with no training. While Lucien actually agreed, he was still not sure how he felt about his brother’s steadily increasing involvement in their lives. In two days, they would be back in Velaris, the business with the wedding finally over. He secretly hoped Eris would drop the subject after their departure. Lucien, in any case, could not imagine the Autumn Court male going to the Hewn City despite the promise he had made to work on Elain’s abilities until she became more confident.

She shrugged, hardly concerned. “I foresee he’ll be a great help to us.” There was a restrained amusement to her words, the feeling trickling down the bond so Lucien could easily sense that she was merely teasing.

“The number of jokes at your disposal is unmatched,” he said, knocking his shoulder playfully into her side.

Elain grinned up at him, her dark eyebrow raised in challenge. She opened her full lips to respond, but her expression quickly transformed into one of concern. She pulled him to a stop, her head turning in the opposite direction.

Lucien was immediately alert, trusting her instincts just as well as his own. His muscles tensed as his ears caught the low sound of shouts coming from the hallway leading to the throne room.

“What’s happening?” She asked, just above a whisper. He could practically see her analysing the situation, weighing what she knew about Autumn and those that lived within the confines of the Forest House.

Assassination attempt.

The thought crashed around in Lucien’s skull for a moment, the familiarity of the feeling returning, a reminder of his past. It had happened before, enough so that Eris had taught him to sleep with his bed pushed to a wall, to ensure that his back was never exposed. He had to get Elain away, wanted to winnow her somewhere she would be safe but had no idea if there was a place secure enough within the court.

The torches flared around them, bright as the sun, and stayed that way. Lucien balanced Elain as she stumbled with a sudden yelp in her effort to move further from the walls. Embers fell to the stone floors like shooting stars, disappearing almost as soon as they had flickered to life.

The raw burst of power was one Lucien would have known anywhere. He had, after all, learned how to wield his own abilities at Eris’s side.

Realisation dawned on him, slower than dripping honey. The shouts continued to travel down the empty hall, and he easily identified the distinct voice of each of his brothers. “If I ask you to stay here, will you?” He addressed his mate, trying to keep the concern from his tone, but failing miserably.

Elain pressed her lips together, shaking her head slightly, a charming dimple appearing on her pale cheek. “Not a chance.”

Lucien sighed. He had expected her answer, but was still worried about her well-being. “Just promise you’ll keep your distance.” If Elain was anything like her sisters, he figured she would despise being kept far from the commotion.

She squeezed his hand to reassure him. “I promise.” It would have been too much to ask for his brothers to be on their best behaviour for a fortnight, Lucien thought coldly. They began to walk once again, this time in the direction of the continued shouts.

Stay close.

Lucien hoped the message came across clearly on the bridge between their souls. He would never forgive himself if something happened to Elain, but he knew the trust built between them would have crumbled had he forbidden her from coming with him. As they approached, the muffled shouts became easier to understand, and when they finally turned the corner, they could do nothing but pause and watch.

Eris was loud, his words an angry snarl. “Consider for a moment how easy it would be for me to kill you both and simply be done with this.” He was standing in the middle of Ronan and Felix, using his body to separate them. Taller than both, the span of his arms ensured they stayed away from one another.

Despite being a courtier and much smaller in size than Ronan, Felix lunged. Lucien sensed Elain’s confusion down the bond, her feelings mirroring his own. He had assumed the two were on good terms, had even witnessed as much during their short time in Autumn. While he knew nothing ever stayed the same in the Forest House, he was surprised by the swift moving game everyone played.

Eris shoved Felix away roughly, stopping the younger male in his tracks, ensuring that a physical altercation did not begin.

“Stay out of it,” Felix spat, expression murderous. He whirled on their eldest brother, directing his anger at him instead. Lucien could tell that Eris preferred it, could practically see the way he adjusted his stance in anticipation for things to quickly turn into a more violent direction.

“Can’t you see he’s itching for a fight, brother.” Ronan called, a slur to his words. It took Lucien a moment to realise that he must have been drunk. “Perhaps he needs to learn a lesson.”

Felix smiled, looking every bit a snake with fangs. He ran a hand over the sleeve of his opposite arm, a flash of silver appearing at the cuff, a silent message.

Eris seemed to have spotted it just as Lucien had, his entire body pulled taut. He looked like a warrior as he straightened his shoulders. “Enough,” he snapped, flames in his amber eyes, embers falling from the tips of his fingers. On most occasions, the tone would have frightened the rest of his brothers into yielding, but whatever had begun the argument was not so easily settled.

“Fuck off,” Felix clipped, stepping around Eris and right into Ronan’s line of sight.

Callum suddenly appeared next to Lucien, winnowing into the space effortlessly. Elain turned to look at him, but he did not even spare her a glance. He sighed loudly, rubbing a hand over his face, the action tired. “What could it be this time?”

Lucien shook his head, watching the scene continue to unfold in front of him. No weapons had yet been drawn, but the threat was there.

“Should we do something?” Elain wondered quietly, more to herself than to him and Callum.

Lucien bit his lip, considering. “We might just make it worse,” he said, knowing from experience how volatile fights between his siblings could become.

No sooner had the words left his mouth, Ronan threw a wicked stream of fire at Felix, the power strong enough to make the younger male shift on his feet. There were no burns, no fabric singed. It was clearly a warning, one that had Callum inching closer.

Callum approached the small group just in time for Felix’s answering magic to fly by him, hitting a decorative vase. It fell to the floor and shattered, tiny pieces dusting the stone like snowflakes. Almost like the toll of a bell ringing before a blood duel, the sound had each of his brothers springing into action.

Lucien watched as Eris was caught in the middle of both Felix and Ronan. The way they hit each other was brutal, and no amount of Callum pulling on any of them was enough to end the fight.

There was more yelling as Eris tried to convince them to stop, but their voices rose over the sound, arguing about something Lucien had no context for. He tried to catch onto any key words, but was unable to piece a clear picture together.

“Stay here,” Lucien mumbled, stepping away from Elain. She held onto his shirtsleeve, and he added a quick, “please.”

“I don’t think—”

Lucien did not wait for her to finish, winnowing into the fray. She would have asked him not to intervene, and he would not have been able to refuse her. The wind was quickly knocked out of him as Callum was shoved backwards right into his chest, an elbow catching him in the ribs. There was no time for apologies as they all attempted to find purchase on the nearest clothing item, pulling and trying to create distance between Felix and Ronan.

Lucien heard Elain call out his name, glad that she still remained far, that she had not attempted to move closer for a better look. His relief was short-lived as Felix twisted, throwing all of his body weight at him.

“You shouldn’t have come back,” Felix hissed as they fell to the ground in a tangled heap. It was low enough that no one else would have heard, the words making Lucien uneasy.

Exile.

Felix had been a vicious child, cunning and manipulative and always eager to impress their father. While he and Lucien had been close in age, a few short years separating them, they had never gotten along. The constant comparison had forged competition between them, ensuring that they were never allies.

Lucien moved roughly, his shoulder hitting Felix so hard he drew blood. The copper scent lingered in the air as he scrambled to his feet, breathing ragged.

Felix stayed on the ground, a scarlet trail falling from his nose and running over his lips. It gave him a wild impression, fire flickering in his gaze. “You bastard,” he snarled, the insult venomous falling from his mouth. Lucien flinched, his eye whirring.

“Enough.”

The word fell over Lucien, echoing in the space. It was the direct order of a High Lord and there was no other choice but to listen.

Lucien watched as Felix paled, noticing how the sound of Ronan fighting with Eris stopped immediately. He turned to see their father standing next to Elain, a crown made of oak leaves resting on his chestnut coloured hair. His mate looked small, her hands curled into fists at her sides. She was obviously worried, but she stayed frozen in place, hardly recoiling at the power leaking from the ancient creature near her.

When it was obvious that he held each of his sons’ attention, he turned a sharp gaze on Felix. “Is that any way to speak when a lady is present?”

His brother’s lip curled up in anger, as though he were ready to argue. There was blood on his teeth, giving him the appearance of a predator. Beron raised a hand, stopping him before he even started. “Is it, Felix?”

Everyone held their breath, an unnatural silence in the corridor. Lucien’s eyes flicked between the two males and his mate, wondering what he might do if the situation became explosive. “No,” his brother uttered, the word strained, like it was being pulled out of him against his will.

Eris moved, the shift small, but Beron saw it from the corner of his eye. Their father shot him a withering glare, warning evident in the tight pull of his mouth. “Where are your manners, child?”

Felix bristled at the insult. Lucien could see him weighing the idea of his punishment, considering how angry Beron was to determine his choice. “You have my apologies, lady,” he said, a restrained anger in his tone. He dipped his chin mechanically, a mockery of a bow.

Elain stayed still, looking like the statues of Day, regal and unbothered. Her silence added to the tense atmosphere as they all waited to see what Beron would say next.

Their father simply nodded. “Leave the fighting until our guests are gone,” he ordered. There was collective relief amongst Lucien and his brothers as they realised there would be no further punishment. The humiliation seemed to be enough for Beron, a testament perhaps to him being in a good mood.

The High Lord winnowed without a word, snuffing all of the torches in the hall. Plunged into a few short moments of darkness left Lucien disoriented, he barely realised that Eris was standing behind him. The fires were lit easily, and he could not decide which one of his brothers had done so. He barely gave it any thought, not when Elain ran to him, skirts in hand, her eyes wide with worry.

Lucien half saw as Felix swatted Callum’s outstretched hand, refusing any help and getting up inelegantly. Blood had stained the collar of his brother’s shirt, and for a moment guilt flooded his senses.

Felix spat onto the floor, scarlet smattering the pale stone, before he marched away. There were dancing embers flowing behind him, Callum following at a safe distance.

You shouldn’t have come back.

Lucien pushed Felix’s words to the back of his mind, focusing on the comforting hand Eris placed on his shoulder. The gesture was more kindness than he had received from his eldest brother in centuries, but the warmth from his palm was gone quickly as Eris moved towards Ronan.

Elain grabbed onto Lucien’s wrist, the contact enough to settle his rapidly beating heart. She tucked herself into his chest, letting him wrap an arm around her waist. He glanced at his remaining brothers, keeping his mate close.

“You should have stayed in Night,” Ronan said gruffly, straightening his jacket.

It was unclear to Lucien whether the comment was directed at him or Elain.

#acotar #a court of thorns and roses #elucien #lucien vanserra #elain archeron #elain archeron x lucien vanserra #eris vanserra #beron vanserra #vanserra brothers #autumn court #all you have is your fire #ashes writes sometimes #thank you for reading <3 #i had to include a fight between brothers in this fic LOL #next chapter elain and lucien get closer ;)

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tragedy-of-commons · 3 days

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Good morning, Gwen. Avery reblogged your event and it appeared on my dashboard, so I came running.

"You're not good enough for him. Just break up with him already." + Jean + platonic

"You're not good enough for him. Just break up with him already."

Jean feels her heart plummet in the suffocating confines of her chest, your words stoking a different kind of fear. Had she overshared too much, causing you to finally snap? Are you going to stop being friends with her for good? Will you start to ignore her when she waves to you in the street? Will you tell everyone about what a sorry person she really is?

She knew she couldn't hold a genuine friendship down for long. It was only a matter of time before you became sick of her busy schedule and secretly dysfunctional livelihood--

She's sobered from her panic by the sound of your fingers snapping a scant inch from her face. "Teyvat to Jean! Hello?"

Like you always do, you're the one to ground her when things get particularly rough. Right - she needs to actually respond; being this inarticulate isn't doing her any favors.

"My apologies," Jean breathes, fidgeting with her gloves. She actually needs to be present so she can heed your counsel. "Please continue."

"Archons, I didn't mean it like that. I'm just saying that if he constantly expects you to meet impossibly high standards, you'll never be good enough for him," you jut your thumb out from your clenched fist and swipe it across the expanse of your neck. "You need to kick his ass to the curb, and you need to do it yesterday."

Your (literal) cutthroat gesture makes Jean shift in her seat. You don't mince your words at all - but that's precisely what she needs, precisely why she came to you for advice. Lisa has a terrible habit of sugarcoating things, even when she's at her most proactive... and Kaeya is, well, Kaeya.

She rises and places a hand on the backrest of her chair, rounding it so she can gaze out of the generously sized window that brings her whole office together. The view of Mond Proper, her home, never fails to calm her down.

"...I'm not even courting him, truly," Jean explains, watching the breeze ruffle a patrolling Knight's hair before being lost in the rustling leaves of trees beyond. "My obligations leave no room for that. We're keeping our relationship casual, informal."

She can almost hear the grimace in your voice. "Casual or not, him expecting you to ditch your hobbies or dress a certain way crosses the line. You know that as well as I do. If you're looking for permission or validation, I'm giving it to you right now."

Those words immediately soothe a large chunk of her anxiety. Jean's ramrod straight posture relaxes into something much more tailored for this atmosphere - sharing a cup of (now cold) tea with you, her dear friend.

"You're right," because of course you are, "but I have no idea how to end things. Etiquette classes didn't prepare me for any of this."

You snort as she turns back around to face your judgment. "To hell with etiquette. My suggestion? Kill him," you propose with the seriousness of a soldier about to go to war.

Jean's cheeks burn hotly as she flounders, attempting to deal with your type of humor in a timely fashion. You mercifully wait for her to do so, teacup and saucer perched daintily in your free hand. In all honesty, she wishes she were more like you; brave, uncaring of what others think, the main character of your own story.

She finds it in herself to chuckle. "I value diplomacy."

"Yeah, yeah," you roll your eyes good-naturedly, "but this isn't one of your romance novels, Jean, nor is it a negotiation. You deserve to be treated with respect, full stop."

She really wishes you'd stop bringing up her guilty pleasure so nonchalantly, but then she'd be deluding herself. She also wishes that she could be as confident and point-blank as you are, even if you both share the same sentiments - hers are just hidden under many layers of propriety.

"I believe you're very wise," Jean tells you sincerely. "The people of Mondstadt should elect you as their new Acting Grandmaster."

"You know, they should. I'd have that dickhead fling of yours executed immediately. Do they do that here? If not, they should look into it."

She sighs. "I take it back."

You grin, slamming your empty cup back onto her desk with a clatter. "Really? You don't want me to flay him alive? Or exile him to Dragonspine with nothing but the clothes on his back? Oh, oh, I know! What about electrocution--"

As the sun sinks down even lower in the sky, casting the Knights of Favonius Headquarters in a truly poetic glow, Jean realizes she feels much better. She'll have to get back to work soon, but for now she'll indulge you as long as she's able.

(Electrocution doesn't sound like too bad of an idea.)

🏷️: @akutasoda, @aviiarie, @lowkeyren

a/n: hi! good morning to you too & i'm glad you chose to take part! thank you for the prompt huehuehue. i decided to go in a little bit of a different direction because i just couldn't bring myself to be too mean to reader or the lovely jean... hope you don't mind!

event post here

#[200] everybody talks!#—stellaronhvnters.#jean x reader #jean gunnhildr x reader #platonic genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #platonic genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact jean x reader #jean genshin impact x reader #genshin jean x reader #jean genshin x reader #jean gunnhildr #sailorstar9 #✧ my musings #platonic jean x reader #jean gunnhildr & reader

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bimbo-baggins17 · 1 day

Note

KINKTOBER REQUEST!

hear me out:

incest, boot worship, and rape (I forget the numbers oops) with Kurt Matheson.

the idea in my head was that you're his sister or daughter. because of his untreated issues and very sensitive mental state, you visit him often to check on him. you end up staying over one night, nd during that night, it became unsafe to go outside, so you're stuck with him until further notice.

he confides in you about how long it's been since he's had a woman around him, and you get weirded out and ask him to stop, which bums him out.

in the middle of the night, he comes onto you, babbling about how desperate he is and how pretty you are and how much he needs you. ofc, he's a vet and works out, so he's much stronger and can easily overpower you. you wake up out of your sleep screaming and crying, and he ends up raping you.

finally feeling some sort of control, he tells you to worship him - his body, his voice, his very being - and he starts with shoving you down onto your hands and knees, one booted foot heavy on your spine while you're forced to lick at his other boot, cleaning away the dirt and grime.

I KNOW I JUST WROTE THE WHOLE DAMN THING OUT, BUT IF ANYONE CAN WRITE THIS, IT'S YOU!

I’M POSTING THIS ONE EARLY BECAUSE I CANT KEEP IT TO MYSELF ANYMORE

I know I already told you in our messages how much I loved this but OH MY GOD I LOVE THIS SO MUCH. YOUR BRAIN IS BEAUTIFUL BNUUY. Hands down my favorite request like EVER. I went with it being his daughter. Definitely more of a fic than a drabble. Oopsies.

TW: DDDNE!!! Rape and incest!!! Don’t like, don’t read.

One of the only times Kurt would make an exception to answering the door is when he knew you were expected. Every other week, like clockwork, you’d come with some groceries and necessities for your mentally unstable father.

“Hurry. Come in, come in.” His voice is gruff as he quickly ushers you in out of the storm before locking the door once you’re barely past the threshold.

You take a moment to look around his dimly lit space, discarded food cans litter the floor. You sigh as you set the bags of groceries down before stooping to try tidy clean some of it up. Kurt turns to come over to you, his eyes drifting to your ass as you do.

“You know, if you kept your space clean, it would probably help you a bit mentally.” You say with your back still to him. Honestly it probably wouldn’t do much to his fragile mental state but you still tried.

“You worry too much.” He says dismissively coming up beside you.

With a sigh, you straighten up and look at him, “Maybe you don’t worry enough.”

He huffs out a laugh, “You sound just like your mother. Trust me. I worry plenty.”

You shake your head but drop it instead, not wanting to argue. It was draining with him and you were always walking on egg shells. You opt for putting away the items you brought. “I’ll get these put away and then I’ll head out. I can’t stay long this time, sorry dad.”

He exhales and rubs a hand over his stubble. “Can’t give your old man a couple more minutes?”

“Sorry, not tonight. But I’ll be back next week with your med refills.”

He waves a hand at that, “Don’t. Theyre useless anyways.”

You stop and look up at him. “Are you implying you aren’t taking them anymore?”

Kurt looks away, shaking his head. “They don’t work anyways.”

“They can’t work if you don’t take them consistently. We’ve been over this.”

“Yeah you really sound like your mother now.”

You give him a look, unamused by him. “I only say that because I care.”

The lights flicker and both of you look over to the window seeing the storm has gotten significantly worse in the short amount time you’ve been here.

Your dad looks back to you again, “I don’t think I’m comfortable with you out in the weather like this.”

And that’s how you get roped into staying the night at your dad’s. You knew he worried. God he worried about everything. What led to your parents’ divorce was that exact reason. His PTSD got worse and worse until he was unable to leave the house for fear of the end of the world.

Both of you sit on the floor with a lantern between the two of you, barely giving off enough light. The sound of the storm outside drowns out the scraping of utensils in the cans you were eating from.

“How’s school been? I feel so out of the loop anymore.” Kurt speaks up, trying to make conversation.

You shrug lazily, “Alright I guess. You’d be in the loop more if you had a cellphone like a normal person.”

He scoffs and rolls his eyes. “I’ll ignore that comment,” He mumbles. His eyes move slowly over you again. He’d be lying if he didn’t think you were beautiful, the way your curves filled out more over time, the way your breasts seemed to nearly double in size over the last year. His chewing halts for a second as he feels a familiar twitch in his pants, one he hadn’t felt in so long. “You got a boyfriend?” He questions after a moment.

You stop and look up at him, shaking your head, “No.”

Slowly he nods his head. “You should. You’re beautiful.”

You shift a little where you sit, uncomfortable with the compliment. Sure it was normal for a dad to compliment his daughter but not your dad. “Um. Thanks.”

“I mean it. You’re looking more and more like your mom did in her prime.”

You look up at him again, “Uh..yeah I guess so.”

“Filling out like her too. Getting her curves.” He continues on. He probably should stop but it’s been so long and yeah it’s probably wrong but he’s so starved for pussy, he’ll take whatever he can. It’d be a waste of a perfect opportunity if he didn’t try.

“Dad?” You question with your eyebrows furrow together tightly.

He sighs and hangs his head. “Sorry. It’s just,” Kurt sighs once more and shifts a little closer to you placing a calloused hand on your leg. “It’s been so long since I’ve been with a woman and I-“

“Oh my god, dad. Gross! Stop it!” You shove his hand off of you and quickly put some distance back between you too.

Kurt’s hand clenches into a fist as he brings it back to his lap. “Right. Yeah. Sorry.” He tries to suppress the disappointment in his voice.

“I’m going to bed, I just..ugh.” You were unnerved to say the least. You get up off the floor, leaving the half eaten can of food on the ground.

“You-uh..you can take my cot.” He calls after you before he’s mentally beating himself up again. This was going to be a long night.

Kurt tosses and turns for what feels like hours on the floor, his cock so painfully hard. He sits up a little to look at you on his cot. You looked so peaceful while sleeping, watching the steady rise and fall of your chest with each breath. It was pure torture to have a woman so close but not being able to do anything about it. Any rational part of his brain was gone years ago so his conscience wasn’t telling him to stop as he got up off the floor, slowly making his way over to your sleeping form.

He reaches down and brushes some hair off your face, “So beautiful,” He murmurs, letting his hand move off your face, slowly tracing down your neck over the pulse point, then your collarbone before he’s allowing himself to squeeze your supple breast. He bites down on his lip to keep from making any noise noticing you weren’t wearing a bra to sleep. His cock throbs.

Kurt palms himself to try and cause any kind of relief this way as he continues to knead your breast, feeling the pebbled nipple poking his palm. He lets out a shuddered exhale. His eyes trail down further seeing the hem of your shirt bunched up a little. A peek wouldn’t hurt right? Not like you’d know. Slowly he inches the shirt up until he’s able to see at least one of your breasts. Leaning down slowly, he presses an open mouthed kiss to it.

You stir a little in your sleep but don’t wake up. He freezes for a second to make sure you stay asleep before he envelopes your nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it.

“Fuck,” He murmurs, releasing it. Making a bolder choice, he lets his hand continue its decent to the waistband of your pants before he’s slipping it in, finding your cunt with his fingers. He draws in a shaky breath feeling how you were wet. “What’re you dreaming about babygirl?” He whispers into the dark.

Against anyone else’s better judgment, he eases your pants and panties down, revealing your core to him. He hesitates for a second looking at it, imagining how tight it would feel wrapped around his shaft.

“I’m so sorry baby. Just been so long..and..and it hurts. You know I love you. You’re my beautiful little girl. I know you’d forgive your dear old dad for this.” He rambles quietly before he’s easing onto the bed between your legs as he bends them. Quickly he fishes his leaking cock out, running it through your folds.

Time isn’t a luxury he has right now. As much as he’d love to savor this, he can’t so he pushes into you, keeping his eyes on your face to make sure you aren’t waking up. Slowly he starts to rock into you, biting back moans that threaten to spill out.

“Oh sweet girl..so good to me.” He pants out, rocking his hips into you faster as he chases his much needed release. The caution he had at first is quickly abandoned as his thrusts grow harsher.

You’re stirred from your slumber feeling something that you most definitely shouldn’t be. Hazily you try to make sense of what’s going on as you come to your senses. Quickly you put together that your father is on top of you fucking into you. “Wha-? S-stop! Stop!”

Kurt’s eyes fly open and land on your face seeing you’re now awake. “Shh..it’s okay baby. I know. I know. Just couldn’t help myself-“

You claw at him to try and get him off, shoving at him but he doesn’t budge. “Dad! Please stop!!” You cry.

“No. No. Just-..nghh..be good for your dad.” He grits out.

You continue to squirm and try to fight which only serves to irritate him. He can’t have that. The years of working out and military training served well and he’s able to easily over power you, pinning you down tightly against the cot. “I said, be good.” He continue to pound into your poor pussy, taking what he wants and not caring about your protests.

“Stop! Please!” You keep repeating the words through far tears that roll down your cheeks.

“Don’t cry baby. You’re helping out your dad.” It’s his attempt to console you. As if reminding you it was your father who was fucking you would somehow make it better.

Your protests soon die off, continuing to cry and sniffle under him.

“Good girl. Such a good girl.” He coos before he’s cumming into you. He leans down to press a wet kiss to your chest. “Now tell daddy thank you.”

Quickly you shake your head. The worst was over, so you assumed. You’d leave after he got off of you. “What? No. You’re sick. Sicker than I thought.” You sniffle.

Kurt leans back, a scowl on his face. “Ungrateful brat.” He spits the words out.

Your eyes widen. You’d upset him, that much was clear. You shake your head again, taking back what you said for the sake of not having him rape you again. “No. No wait. I’m sorry..I’m sorry I didn’t mean it.”

“Oh yeah? You’re sorry, hm?”

You nod your head. “Yeah. Yes, yes I’m sorry dad.” It made you sick to call him that now.

“Show me then. Worship me.”

You look up at him with wide eyes. “W-what?”

“I said, worship me. Make your dad happy.”

You don’t even know where to begin, how to lie that well. Kurt is unhappy with how long you take. Slipping out of you, he quickly yanks you up and shoves you onto your stomach on the floor before you can process what’s happening, his one booted foot shoved directly into the center of your back while the other one rested by your head on the floor.

“Lick it.” He instructs.

“What? Lick what?”

He huffs in frustration, “My boot. Lick it. Show your dad how much you love him.”

You start to protest despite your compromised position, but Kurt presses his boot more firmly into your back. “Lick. It.”

You shakily raise your head and stick your tongue out, giving a little kitten lick to the toe of it.

“More.” He encourages, adding more pressure. “Clean it with your damn tongue.”

You sniffle but oblige him, knowing you weren’t getting out of this without doing so. You run your tongue along the toe of his boot, moving to the front of it, dipping down to the sole of it.

“There we go. Much better.” He praises, “Now tell me you love me.”

You suck in a shaky breath, “I-love you dad.”

He hums happily, “Good. Now my voice.”

“I..love your voice.” You sniffle.

He releases a little of the pressure on your back, “My body.”

You fight the urge to recoil at the words he wants you to speak, “I-…I love your body.” You want to puke.

“Mm. There we go. You made your dad so happy, little girl.” He praises softly, “That wasn’t so bad, yeah?”

You shake your head for the sake of appeasing him, “N-no..it wasn’t.”

“Good,” He takes his boot off of your back but then places it down infront of your face. “Now lick this one.”

#tw!rape #tw!incest #dddne #rain works ˚₊‧꒰ა 🌧️ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚#kinktober #kurt matheson #kurt matheson imagine #kurt matheson smut #kurt matheson x reader #kurt Matheson the last man #the last man #hayden christensen characters #hayden christensen

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lambilegs · 18 hours

Text

night in (lee harker x reader)

(contains: calling lee "daddy," her spitting in your mouth, degradation, reader is referred to as having a "clit," "pussy" and "folds," reader receiving fingering)

idea came from this anon!! thank you so much for it hehe 💗💗

⊹₊｡ꕤ˚₊⊹₊˚⊹ ♡ ʚ🎀ɞ ♡ ⊹˚༘⋆🌷🫧💭₊˚ෆ

"c'mon," you whine, wiggling your fingers at lee, cocking your head to the side, "just do it. please, for me?"

she rolls her eyes. "I'm not gonna arm wrestle with you in a public place."

you two are seated at a table in your favourite fast food place, awaiting your order number, 526, to get called out. after spending far too many seconds having stared at your girlfriend's hands, and the way the veins became more defined when she flexed and moved them, you inquired after an arm wrestling challenge.

lee isn't so up for it, tentatively watching the crowd of students surrounding you two. you pout at her, gripping her wrist and shaking it. "baby, please, we'll never see these people again."

she gives you a wry half-smile. "in a town this small, we absolutely will."

she has a point -- one that you choose to discard, tugging on her arm some more. "do it, do it. don't you want an opportunity to flex to me how strong you are?"

her smile widens, just by a twitch, voice lowering. "and here I thought you got enough of that when you watch me work out."

you smack her arm, bristling and leaning back. it's true, and you hated her for having that on you. whenever she worked out from home, you practically ogled her, mouth watering at how her muscles gently rolled as she lifted weights, the way her shoulders tensed and flexed when she did push-ups. there had been all too many workouts of hers that, due to your endless coaxing and flirting, ended with you on your back, her fingers shoved deep inside you.

you feel yourself clench down at the memory, trying to kick the mental image to the back of your mind, far away from the forefront. "well, regardless, there can never be too much showing off." you grab her hand, trying to will her arm into the position of an arm wrestle. "stop being so stubborn and just do it to pass the time."

finally, she heaves a sigh, releasing your hand and shrugging off her jacket. the sight has you holding your breath, eyes nearly shutting when she begins to roll up the sleeves of her turtleneck. she props her elbow on the table, palm open and ready for you.

you giggle at your success, patting yourself on the back.

a small scoff slips past her soft lips. when your hand slides into hers, palms rubbing together, you almost feel like you're back to months ago, when you had held her hand for very the first time. the way her long fingers wrap around yours, how cool her skin feels, the firmness of her grip -- all of which you're now intimately familiar with, but nonetheless, the slow, intentional interlocking of hands just reminds you of how good it feels to have her be yours.

"okay," you mutter, shifting in your seat, a tense flow of anticipation washing through you. "three, two, one."

immediately, you force as much strength as you can into your arm, gritting your teeth and furrowing your brows in concentration. you glance at lee, nearly crying out at how composed she looks. her jaw is tense, and her mouth is tightly pressed together, yes, but she just watches your hands intently, blinking slowly at it, her breathing barely altered. meanwhile, you're gasping at her strength.

it takes approximately ten seconds before the back of your hand smacks down on the table. you wince, bottom lip jutting out as you lift and twist your sensitive wrist around. meanwhile, lee settles back into her seat, a small, satisfied curl to her lips.

"oh, shut up," you grumble.

she tenderly grabs the hand you're rubbing, her thumb's tip beginning to gently circle it, the ghost of her touch nearly turning you into putty. "I didn't say anything."

you grunt. "your stupid face says it all."

"I thought you liked my face?" her voice is lightened with an edge of teasing.

"no, no, we have an amicable relationship only."

her mouth twitches, the near-smirk immediately fading away when you make eye contact. you sigh. "what? what were you gonna say?"

she shrugs, mouth twisting in evident amusement. "nothing."

"just tell me, lee."

"I was just..." she glances nervously to the people surrounding you two, pulling your hand gently so you two can be closer. your breath trembles at the proximity. her voice trickles to a whisper. "I was going to ask if you sit on everything you have an amicable relationship with?"

"order 526!"

you groan, pushing her away, stomping towards the counter. she remains in her seat, fondly staring at you as you grab the paper bag and head out the doors, which does nothing to help in quelling the blush in your cheeks.

as you head out into the parking lot, you immediately shiver at the cold, bitter air hitting your face. almost as though she senses your discomfort, lee appears a moment later, sliding her arm into her jacket, hissing as soon as she feels the weather. she turns to you, wordlessly bending down to hook in your zipper and pull it up. flustered and in awe, you nearly shove your face into the takeout and scream in that moment, the urge only intensifying when she wraps an arm around your waist, leading you back to her car, which of course, she somehow memorized the exact parking spot of.

when seated in the car, her eyes flicker to you, mouth opening and closing.

you don't miss it. "what is it?"

her lips press together, and she avoids your gaze. "was that joke, um, okay? the one I just made?"

at once, your shoulders sag, melting into your seat. you lay a soft hand to her cheek. "baby, of course. I was just messing around when I left the table."

"no, no, I know," she says as she plugs her keys in, turning the car on. "I just hoped I didn't push it too far or make you feel... uncomfortable. I'm, well... worried I wouldn't be able to tell." her eyes are frozen on the wheel.

"you didn't, baby, I promise. okay?"

her wide eyes blink to you, and when you nod gently, her own head tilts in response. it's barely there, but you can see the way her shoulders relax at your confirmation.

you clear your throat, smiling bashfully to yourself. "plus, you may have somewhat had a point."

as she begins driving, the corner of her lip quirks up. "I know."

you smack her arm again.

upon your guys' arrival at her cottage, you saunter through the door, tossing your head back at her. "though, I think we ought to have a rematch."

she practically glides past you, as though the idea is of no serious consequence to her, heading to the kitchen to set the paper bag down. "is there a point?"

you bounce lightly on the balls of your feet. in truth, there really is no point to engaging in any sort of physically challenging competition with her. she's part of the fucking fbi, for crying out loud, her body's probably numb from all the damn training she's spent years doing. but, you're not bringing this suggestion up for the sake of proving her weak. you know you have no chance in that. the truth is really that you haven't been able to get her casual display of physical strength out of your head since you two left the restaurant. the way it didn't even take her a minute before she sent your arm plummeting to the table. just like how it is when you watch her work out, or when she carries heavy things for you, you're worked up. and play fighting with her -- well, it was just one of many fantasies and wants you haven't confessed to her yet.

as she exits the kitchen, peeling off her jacket, which is damp with snow, her eyes scan you carefully, observing you. "why are you looking at me like that?"

embarrassed to have been so quickly caught in scheming, you grab the fabric of her shirt that's clutching around her stomach, yanking her forward. "come, come, one more match."

"baby, I'm hungry."

"so, use this as motivation."

she searches your face, eyes glinting with an unspoken question, before finally sighing. "fine. another arm wrestle?"

you drag her to her bedroom. "no, play fight."

you feel her pause. "is this some sort of competitiveness?"

a laugh bellows from you. "it's just fun, lee."

when she speaks, her voice is small, as though she pities you for the admission. "I'm probably going to win, though."

as soon as you two enter her bedroom, you grip onto her forearm, using her surprise as an opportunity to push her onto the bed. she flings onto it, a small, monotone, "ah," coming from her, and your face cracks at the noise.

"someone spoke too soon," you muse, something churning in your stomach at the sight of her on her back, looking up at you, her pony tail messy with strands streaming out.

she flattens her palms on the comforter, lifting herself up, eyes widening when you push at her shoulders again, an action which sends her sinking into the mattress again.

"babe," she breathes, eyebrows scrunched together, creasing her forehead in confusion. when she starts shifting up again, her eyes are narrowed on you, hooked onto your every single move.

and so, you let her stand up, not wanting to lose. her shoulders are tense, as though she's poised and prepared for your every move. it causes an eager thrill to whirl within you, your stomach flipping at her focused gaze.

"why do you want to play fight so bad?"

you shrug, trying to level your voice. god, even when done for the sake of pure fun, it was hard to lie to her. "just to see how it feels."

when the corner of her lip tilts up, and she looks away with a little snarky huff, you seize the chance, lunging towards her to shove her down again.

your heart beats in your ears when her eyes dart up right before you can touch her, her hands snapping up to clutch at your wrists, whirling you around and pressing your front to the nearest wall. she holds your interlocked hands to your back in one hand, the other flat against the spot between your shoulder blades, pressing you in.

adrenaline shooting through you, you push all your force back into her, trying to send her flying back. but, she's too strong and too acutely aware of your moves now, and she keeps ahold of your wrists as she yanks you from the wall, practically throwing you on the bed.

you kick your feet out, trying desperately to grab ahold of any win you can. what you receive in response is lee's iron grip to your leg that keeps you in place, her body lithely crawling on top of you so her thighs lock in your other leg. you grunt loudly at the pressure, but inside, you're marvelling at just how strong your girlfriend is.

she straddles your hips, knees pressing against the plush sides of your body. when your hands flinch, readying to try to push her off, she's faster than you could dream, long fingers wrapping around yours as she pins them to the bed.

as the heat of the moment wears off, your breaths evening out, her actions of the last few moments soak into your mind, and with it, comes an ache between your legs. the sensation only seeps further into your abdomen when you come face to face with her burning eyes, which are wide with energy, her soft lips releasing warm puffs of air all over your face.

her head dips down to yours, strays of her brown hair tickling at your cheeks. "satisfied? this is how it feels." her voice, like most of the time, is flat, but it's also heavy, deeper, with the charge of the moment, and you squirm under her.

her eyes flick down to your crotch, mouth twitching in realization. "you're turned on."

"no," you whine, shaking your head. "I'm not, I just--"

"stop trying to lie to me," she cuts you off in a hushed voice, smooth and thick like caramel. it's so authoritative and steady, and you whimper at it.

at the meek sound you produce, she blinks down at you, a small, endeared smile on her face. "was this your plan since the beginning?" she pushes her strong thigh between your legs, pressing down. "since we picked up food?"

"no!" you exclaim, indignant at the suggestion (as though you hadn't been hatching a plan since post-restaurant). "no, that was genuine."

"then?" she whispers, her hand languidly sliding from your entwined wrists to down your body. she playfully squeezes a tit, thumb rubbing slow, light circles around your nipple, then continuing her way down. her palm rubs at your tummy, sneaking under your shirt, and you gasp at her cold skin against you. finally, she tugs at your belt, releasing it from your buckle, her gaze never faltering. "since we got home?"

"I... I..." you hesitate, your previous boldness practically dissipating now that you have to confess to her.

"you..?" she drawls out, hand slipping into your jeans. when her fingertips brush against your sodden underwear, she hisses. "god. you've been wanting for a while." she says it plainly, as an objective, hard fact, and her bluntness only makes you even more turned on. at your lack of answer, she tilts her head, waiting.

your voice is small. "yes, I've been wanting it for a while."

"you still haven't specified how long," she murmurs, lips diving to your neck, pressing soft, wet kisses along your skin, pausing to suck a rough, stinging mark, the lovebite leaving you writhing. "tell me."

you shoulders twist in pleasure from her ministrations. "I... you're right. since we got home."

she hums in response, three fingers pressing into your clit, the wet fabric of your underwear stickily clinging to your pussy. she pushes and rubs slow, firm circles against your longing bud, her teeth gently sinking into your shoulder, licking a long stripe to soothe it after you cry out. "are you just always in the mood or something?"

her tone is absent of bite, the words playfully mocking. and as frustrated as you are to admit it, you still let her words get a rise to you. you shake your head hard, nose wrinkling in disagreement. "no! I'm not easy or something--"

she suddenly pushes her thumb to your clit over your underwear, rubbing it side to side with enough pressure to send you tumbling into a slew of moans.

"what was that?" she nips at your jaw, thumb continuing to roughly toy with you clit, her longer fingers massaging against your wet mound.

"I said I'm not easy." the firm intent of your words is made less believable with your moans and whines, you know so. stupid lee.

"yeah?" her hand pushes past your underwear, and the feeling of her fingers directly against your dripping pussy has you crying out. she rubs your folds between her thumb and index finger, lazily playing with them as though she has all day to be exploring you. her knuckles brush against your swollen lips, and she dips two fingers in, dangerously close to sliding into your hole. "are you sure you want to keep fighting that argument?"

her fingers begin to stroke a bit deeper, slipping in, slipping out, the teasing motions sending your hips bucking. she leans her weight onto you more, keeping your hips stuck under her. "just admit it."

your mouth quivers, clit fucking throbbing for more. you can't help but give in. "fine. I'm, um, I'm easy."

"who are you easy for?"

you turn away, face growing warm. "I hate you, lee."

she ducks down, grazing her teeth along your earlobe. "first, it was amicability, now hating me? it doesn't feel that way." to prove her point, she slips her fingers out, smearing your juices against your budging clit. her fingers become slippery against it, smoothly gliding along the bud, hard enough to send you clenching, but lacking in pressure enough to leave the burning in you unsated.

"well, it's true," you gasp out as she suddenly flicks her fingertips.

"mm, well, I suppose I should stop, then."

you groan in frustration, too needy to continue playing such games with her. "fine..." you eye her neck, which is shiny with sweat. "I'm easy for you, lee. I only want -- ah!"

you cry out loudly, nearly sobbing in pleasure when she finally pushes two fingers deep into you. she's ruthless, her fingers moving swiftly, her entire being completely in tune with the body she's lavished her attention on countless of times. her knees lock in, keeping your body still as her fingers curl in you, roughly pounding in and out.

"keep going," she demands, fingers thrusting in you so sloppily, your juices helping her reach in with ease. the sensation of her long fingers rubbing against your sensitive inner walls make you keen.

"I only belong to you," you moan, neck arching up. you'll do practically anything at this point, if it means she'll keeps going. and the longer she does go, the hazier your mind gets, inhibitions pouring away.

"again."

"I only belong to you, daddy." you pant, tongue hanging out as she continues to plunge her fingers into you, spreading you open. the feeling of her digits deep inside you is so distinct, so exact, and the intimacy of her truly being inside such a hidden spot of yours makes your mind hazy with adoration.

after a few more moments of nothing but gasps and moans, it sinks into you what you just said. you jerk up, hand flying to your mouth. oh my god. yeah... that is one of the things you never have told her about.

her movements slow down, and despite your humiliation, you let out a strangled noise.

she sucks in deep breaths, nostrils flaring. "did you just call me 'daddy'?"

you swallow hard, stomach tickling with the acute humiliation from having been caught saying it rather than introducing the idea in a dignified, or at the very least, fully clothed, conversation. "um, yeah. I'm so, so sorry. it just slipped out, I--"

your words melt into a relieved sigh when she presses her mouth down, pink lips slowly pressing and roving along yours. her tongue gently sinks into your mouth, and when you open wider, she slides it in, massaging your own wet muscle with hers. you gasp against her when her fingers begin to skim feather touches to your pussy lips.

"don't," she rasps out against your mouth. she pauses, before quietly admitting, "I liked it."

she meets you for another brutal kiss, lips hard with pressure, teeth gently clashing as her tongue flicks playfully against yours. at once, her thumb begins to circle your clit and the precipice of pleasure has you arching against her.

arousal courses through you as you register her confirmation. "you do?"

"mhm." she drops one last soft kiss to your mouth before her fingers easily slide into your hole again. you cry out at the sensation, and she sharply bites on your bottom lip, groaning into your mouth. she hesitates before saying, "call me it again."

your cry breaks into pieces at the request, hesitating before obeying her. "I-I... okay, daddy."

she sighs, pressing her forehead to your neck, hot gasps hitting your sweaty skin as her fingers speed up, jerking hard inside you. "there you go, baby. take it for me like a good girl."

you choke out a gasp at her words, hips impossibly unsteady. she pauses momentarily to slide her legs between yours. right hand still impossibly deep in you, she uses her left to bend one of your knees up, spreading you open even further.

she presses her torso flush against yours, fingers beginning to ram in you again. the way she's spread your legs out has her fingers' movements even more pronounced, and she has enough room now to tilt her palm up so that it presses into your clit with each thrust.

she bites her lip. "you hear that?" she goes silent for a few moments, nothing but the soaked squelching of your pussy ringing in the room. you softly whine, shivering at the noise and how exposed you feel. but, she doesn't back down. "your pussy is always so ready for me. sometimes I wonder if there's a moment where you aren't wet."

her chiding words have you trembling under her, your pussy beginning to latch on tighter.

she snickers softly, her laugh lines deepening as she smiles. in the midst of your guys' rushed, messy movements, fondness overtakes your chest at the sight. she's so lovely.

"so responsive," she murmurs against your cheek. "have you always been this good at being a slut?"

her words send you into submissive puddle, and you shake your head, whimpering. "no, daddy, only for you."

her eyes widen at the title, becoming heavy-lidded once she begins to speak, watching you fall apart under her. "that's right. this is my pussy. gonna fill you up every night and ruin anyone else for you."

you giggle, feeling nearly delirious with the mix of sensations. "yeah? you're so confident that you think no one else has a chance?"

a small, breathless laugh flies from her lips, and you feel the air of it hitting your skin. "I know no one else does." her forehead presses to yours and her tongue slips out, slowly stroking along your top lip, which parts from your bottom as soon as the contact hits. "the way you open up is proof enough."

your thighs clench at her honest words, burying your face in the sheets. "it's not my fault." your tone softens. "it feels too good, daddy."

something flashes in her eyes. you love what this little nickname seems to be triggering in her, as though each time you call it out, you're only tugging her deeper into her all-consuming state of dominance.

her jaw clenches and she presses the heel of her palm hard against your clit, which sends you squeezing on her fingers again, your orgasm fast approaching. "baby, I'm close, I--" you cry out as her fingers curl, hitting that deep spot in you. she starts relentlessly, ceaselessly pressing down on it, her palm still bumping against your swollen, stiff clit.

"I know, baby, I know," she breathes into your neck. "why don't you let go for daddy? come all over my fingers." her voice is shaking, but the command is firm.

god, fuck, that was so sexy. hearing her call herself it has your mouth hanging open, gasping, wanting her to completely take control of you. she smirks at the sight, grabbing your chin and roughly spitting into your mouth, the sudden noise resulting from it making you jerk up. as you feel her spit roll down your tongue and into your throat, your body twists in satisfaction, swallowing it down. you love when she gets like this -- so possessive and unhinged in her pursuit of your pleasure. she continues holding you in place, her gentle rubs along your cheek at total contrast to the fingers drilling into your hole, making you feel almost confused as to which sensation was which.

when you come, you spasm all over her fingers, walls fluttering and sucking her in, and she grunts as she struggles to continue fingerfucking you. but, she keeps going as best as she can, pushing and pulling, mindlessly sucking at your neck, until you whine for her to stop.

when she slips her fingers out, you feel suddenly empty, and you nearly beg for her to put them back in. but, the soreness that starts creeping in between your legs is enough to stop you. when you tell lee as much, she kisses your head, running a hot bath for you two.

in the warm water, you feel her chest, which is pressed to your back, suddenly rumble with silent laughter. when you turn to her curiously, her teeth flash as she chuckles gently.

"so, 'daddy,' huh?"

#🧍🏽‍♀️#hahahahaa #s.writing #lee harker x reader #lee harker #lee harker fanfiction #longlegs #longlegs fanfiction #nsft #scheduled #gonna be out when this postssss <33

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