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[rachelfc-art]

Link Click Season 1 Recap (accurate)

[pandora-writes-one-piece]

Mine to Protect Part III

@thetrueghostqueen Thank you so much for your wonderful request for the birthday prompts! I truly hope you enjoyed the story! Even though it turned out pretty big 😅

Source for Pic

Mine to Protect

Word Count: 4408

Tags for the whole story: Highlander!Kid; Fem!Reader; Alternate Universe - Scotland 13th century; Gore; Blood; Violence; Death; Mild Angst; Fluff; Nudity; Cursing; Sexual Tension; Explicit Sexual Content; Protective!Kid; Possessive!Kid; Soft!Kid; Feral!Kid; Jealous!Kid; Happy Ending; Sort of Enemies to Lovers; Teasing; Banter; NSFW; MDNI; Mature Audiences;

Special Warning: English is not my first language, I apologise for any possible spelling or grammar mistakes.

Summary: Your father and his allied clans are at war, and you're a liability. When you're assigned a guard to protect you - against your will - you do everything in your power to infuriate him. The problem is that he can be more infuriating than you, as you're about to find out.

Notes: Final part everyone. I hope you enjoyed this! It really wasn't supposed to be so big... but then there were so many little moments I wanted to include... Thank you for reading!

Part 3 of 3

|Part 1| | |Part 2| | |Masterlist|

You avoid the wedding conversation with your father like the plague, but you chase Kid’s company like a hunter tracking deer through the glens. More than once, he tumbles into your sheets –sometimes you don’t even make it that far. He has you against doors, walls, on the ground, under the shade of trees, anywhere –everywhere!

You now know the shape and contour of all his scars and muscles. The way they ripple as he uses them to handle your body effortlessly, the way they tense when he’s lost at the edge, spilling his release into you, or the way they soften as you search for the warmth of his embrace afterwards. 

He’s told you about many of the scars. He’s even told you how his left arm was rendered almost useless during battle. He has opened up to you, and you to him, sharing all your worries over your people, sharing how you’ve lost your brother to brigands when you were young and vowed not to be a helpless noble girl –he assures you, you’re not.

Things happen easily between you and Kid, even though you still disagree on many things and keep fighting like cats and dogs. Most of those fights end the same, with both of you lost in a mess of tangled limbs. 

You’ve fallen.

So hard it hurts. And it’s scary as hell in more ways than one. Not only do you not know if Kid feels the same for you, but you also don’t want your heart and emotions to be so tied to a single person. Because, at this moment, it feels like you might die if something happens to Kid. 

You can’t hold back that conversation anymore, so it takes a particularly cold night –a bit warmer now that you and Kid have exercised– when you’re lost in his embrace, to peel the words from your lips.

Kid’s arm grips you, his hand securing you tightly by the waist, and you absentmindedly realise that he never holds you differently. It’s always with strength, a fierce claim, or a desperate need to protect. Your fingers trace the scar on his chest, as you usually do, and that always brings a soft smile to his lips as he relaxes his breathing.

After a while, he speaks. “Yer awfully quiet today. Ye must tell me what I did tae get ye tae shut up.” He chuckles. “I might need that information for other nights.”

But you don’t reply. Not with a chuckle, nor with a witty response as he was expecting you to. 

“Lass?” He opens his eyes and lifts your chin with his fingers to inspect your face, and you sigh. 

“What are we, Kid?” The fear of his answer grips your heart in its clutches holding it ransom. 

“What do ye mean?”

Sitting up and crossing your legs on the bed, you lock your gaze with his. “This, us. What are we?” You gesture between your bodies, impatience oozing from your pores. 

Kid sits up as well, running a hand through his fiery, slightly damp hair. “Lass… we… we’re us.” He shrugs, and you sigh again. Talking about feelings with Kid is like pulling a sword from solid rock. Clearly, he senses that you’re upset, because he tries again. “I care for ye.”

“I know that.”

“Good. So, that’s it.” He reaches for you, but you swat his hand away. 

“Is that all? You care?”

“We have fun, aye, lass?” He smirks at you, trying to lighten the mood, but he’s not even inching closer to where you want him to be. 

“Aye. Fun. You care, and we have fun. That’s all there is, right?”

Kid tenses, and the ticking in his jaw alerts you that he’s finally taking this seriously. “There cannae be anythin’ else, can there? Yer a noble lady, I’m a hired sword.”

You nod. In your head, you know that, technically there can’t be anything more, but in your heart, there are infinite possibilities. What you wanted to hear from him is that he more than cares, that he is willing to fight for both of you. You want to hear him say that he’s fallen for you too. You don’t expect him to be romantic, he was right all those nights ago, you don’t need to be sweet-talked. But you want something real. 

“Is that what ye wanted to hear? That we’re nae good tae each other? That we cannae work?” He slams a fist on the bed, and you know he’s not angry at you, really, it’s at the situation. 

“No, Kid. What I wanted to hear was a bit of fight in you.” You get up, pull your dress over your head, and your feet through your boots. “Because you fight so hard to protect me from outside threats, when the biggest threat to my heart is right here in my room.”

The hurt in his expression is a mirror of your own as you make your way to the door. But it’s not over yet. There’s something else you need to tell him and this was why you asked him what you were. To see if you and he were worth fighting for. 

Your hand hovers the doorknob and you don’t look back at him as you deliver the news. “My father has chosen a suitor to marry me. I have no say in the matter. We are to be married within a month.”

As tears fill your eyes, you leave the room without looking back, not knowing what Kid feels about the news or if he’s as devastated as you are.

-*-

You will never know how he felt about the news you delivered, because by morning, he’s gone. Just gone, without a trace, without a goodbye, without a word. Why does your chest ache so much when he took your heart with him?

Your father merely assigns another guard to you, but since you’ll be married within a month –securing a formidable war alliance that comes with soldiers and money– and leaving his house, he simply assigns one of his personal guards to shadow you.

This guard is quiet, slow, and an idiot. You lose him on the first try. 

Though you don’t wander too far alone. The streets are growing more dangerous, and this guard isn’t Kid. You don’t trust him to find you anywhere and everywhere, as if you were connected by more than duty. 

You refuse to cry.

You know you have many, many tears to shed, but you gave yourself one night to do it. The night he left you, and that was it. No more tears, no more broken heart. And though it all seems easier said than done, you manage slightly. 

You set up a food delivery system with some of the citizens on the keep’s grounds, so you can be safer and still help them, and this has kept your mind and hands occupied. But the end of the month approaches, and so does your wedding. 

You can’t stop thinking about Kid and how he makes you feel and it’s nearly impossible to think of giving yourself to another man. Be it body or soul. You’re Kid’s. And that’s it.

Days without him seem colder and drag on slower than before. Training doesn't feel the same, and every time you lie in bed you still feel the ghost of his arms wrapped around you. You've found yourself glancing over your shoulder more than once, hoping he's there, just around the corner, with his scowl in place, a witty remark at hand, or a biting word. 

But he's not. 

And so, you tread on, day by day, night by night, forcing your heart to harden, to stop caring, to just let him go. 

Until you feel him. It's that prickling sensation at the nape of your neck, the tingling that bristles your hairs and almost stops your heart. This time, when you glance over your shoulder, he's really there, and it takes every ounce of willpower not to run to him and jump into his arms. 

Gods, you've missed him. 

He looks… haggard. His hair is duller, matted and dirty, there's dried blood on his skin and clothes –you're too scared to ask him if it's his, so you don’t– and there's darkness in his eyes, so much darkness. 

“Kid…” You barely utter, your heart too shattered to let your mouth part with any more words, lest he take them as ransom and use them against you. 

“Forgive me, lass. I've been gone longer than I meant, aye?” His voice seems drained. He looks exhausted, and you want nothing more than to scream at him for leaving you without a single word, for making you suffer beyond human understanding. But none of what you feel matters when he looks ready to drop dead from exhaustion at any second. So you drag him into your quarters and draw him a warm bath without uttering another word. 

He sits in the tub as you pour warm water over him, loosening the grime and blood so he can scrub it off. You don't speak. You're too afraid that the first words out of your mouth will be angry and accusing, and now’s not the time to fight. For what it's worth, he doesn't speak either. Whether he's respecting your silence or simply too tired, is anyone's guess. 

When the water rises enough for a comfortable bath, you wet the cloth and hand it to Kid, but he doesn't make a move to take it. His eyes are droopy, and his head lolls back and forth until he finally leans it against the rim of the tub with a groan and a grunt. 

You sigh as your heart clenches, and you kneel beside him, running the wet cloth over his arms first, scrubbing off the caked mud, blood, and whatever else he dragged on him from wherever he was. When you reach his hand, his fingers curl slightly, seeking your touch, trying to hold you and you give everything to stop your tears from falling. 

Gods, how you love this man. 

He slumbers for a bit as you clean most of the grime off, but when you reach his chest and your hands find the familiar scars, his eyes slowly open, watching you. You're frowning pretending not to notice him observing you, but you grumble something unintelligible when you find three new scars –badly healed– on his torso. 

“Where did you go…?” The question slips from your lips against your will in a quiet whisper. You're not even sure if he heard you or if he'll answer. 

“Behind enemy lines, tae the north.”

The cloth slips from your hand, and you fumble to secure it again, your mouth open as wide as your eyes. “Beyond the borders? Into enemy territory? Kid! You could’ve died!”

His smirk barely curves his lips, but it's there. “Would've been worth it.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” You growl, scrubbing harder and making him wince. 

“Ah, I've missed that filthy tongue, lass.” How can your heart warm at such words when you want nothing more than to yell at him for having left you? “I got what I went in for.” He dips his head back into the water, using his hands to try and comb through his matted hair. When he rises out of the water, his exhausted gaze falls on you, waiting for your questions. 

“What did you go in for?”

“Information. War information that’ll make the clans turn tae yer da’s side without ye havin’ tae marry.” A chill runs through you as you stare at him. Is he serious? Has he risked his life just to get you out of an arranged marriage? Does that mean… does he love you back? Are you more than just ‘fun’? 

You swallow the lump in your throat and try to make your tongue work past the dry, sand-like feeling in your mouth. “You still left me behind, without a word or a goodbye. Without a warning. I was alone!” The sigh that parts your lips is filled with sorrow and resignation. “We'll speak about this after you rest, you're in no condition to argue.”

He chuckles as you force him to lean forward –with a harder shove than you should– so you can clean his back. “Oh, but I've missed arguin’ with ye.” You purse your lips, drawing back an angry snarl that only makes him chuckle again. “Think about it. Would ye’ve let me leave if I told ya my plan?” He shrugs nonchalantly. “I mean, I would've left just the same, but ye would've tried tae stop me. Or worse, ye would've wanted tae go with me. It was better this way.”

“Better for whom? Because I was left thinking you'd abandoned me, right after I poured my heart out to you!”

Kid's face falls again. “Better than tae worry about me. If I died, at least ye could've forgotten me if ye hated me. It would've been a lot harder tae forget me if ye still cared.”

I still care. 

You think the words, but you don't say them. Instead, you hand him the cloth. “Finish up, Kid. I'll go grab you some clothes from your old room. It hasn't been touched.”

-*-

When you return he's clean and dry, a  towel wrapped around his waist, and you lower your gaze before you get lost in the body you know so well. Handing him the shirt and breeches, you return to your room, waiting for him with a tray of food and ale, so he eats and rests, because he looks like shit. 

He follows you wordlessly after getting dressed and eats the food ravenously, which makes you wonder how long it’s been since he last ate. By the time he finishes, he looks ready to fall down again. You lead him to your bed, setting him down in the place he's slept more times than you can count, and securing the blankets around him. As Kid closes his eyes, you sigh, turning to leave, but his arm loops around your waist, and he drags you to bed, your back firmly against his chest, as he pulls you closer and drapes the covers over you too. 

“Kid…” You start to protest. He needs rest and you don't trust your heart enough to be this close to him and not break. He still hasn't told you how he truly feels. He said he missed your remarks and arguing with you, but he didn't say he missed you. 

“Stay.” His voice sounds hoarse and pained as he pulls you impossibly closer, burying his head in your hair, inhaling your scent in deep breaths. 

You relax in his hold. It's not like you want to leave anyway. You've never felt safer than in Kid's arms, you're just not sure if you feel loved. 

“I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, lass.” The whisper of his words kisses the back of your neck in warm breaths, and your heart clenches. “I'm shite with words and feelings, ye know that… but… dinnae think for a minute that I left because I dinnae care. I left because I do care.”

He's still not saying it. 

“I know you care, Kid.” You sound weary and resigned. Perhaps you're asking too much. It's obvious he cares deeply, or he would've never gone to the lengths he did for you. 

“It's more than that.” You can almost hear the strain in his voice as he forces the words out. “I knew I could never fall for ye. I'm a guard, yer a noble lady. How could I… love ye if I'm no’ worthy? Yer da would hang me for ever touchin’ ye…” His chuckle is just a rumble against your back. “If he knew how much I've touched ye, my head would roll.”

You hold back a smirk. All your life you've defied your father and his rules. Kid would never be the exception. 

“But I've come tae realise that I cannae live without ye, nor do I want tae.” He sighs and rolls you, motioning for you to turn to him, so you do. Your cheeks are hot and flushed and your heart is hammering violently against your chest. His fiery eyes are droopy and tired, filled with so much exhaustion that is physically noticeable. But he needs to get his words out. His fingers tilt your chin so he can stare right into your eyes. “I've realised that if lovin’ ye is a risk, then I'm ready tae bet everythin’. And that's why I had tae go. Because I love ye.”

A ragged sob breaks through your defences and tears down the dam you've built to hold your tears in since Kid’s return. Tears spill from your eyes in fat droplets as Kid pulls you to his chest, his hand resting on the back of your head, comforting you, cradling you. He doesn't say anything else, but he doesn't need to. 

He's said it all. 

You spill all the tears you vowed not to cry when he left, all the pent-up emotions that you’d stored safely away in a dark corner of your heart come crashing down with the force of a tidal wave, destroying everything in their path. And Kid holds you through it all. Your lifeline, your anchor, your everything. 

He doesn't utter any more words, and he's right, you know he's shit with feelings. But his actions have always spoken much louder than words. He holds you tightly, clearly fending off all the exhaustion in his weary bones just to comfort you. His lips press softly against the crown of your head, again and again, in an endless torrent of kisses, like he can't get enough of you. His hand rubs your back up and down in soothing motions as your heart explodes from all this love. It's overwhelming, overpowering and somehow, still not enough. 

Eventually, you pull back from him, tilting your head upwards and watching him through wet lashes. “Gods, Kid. I love you too. So much. So, so much.” The warmth in his gaze overpowers the tiredness as he lowers his face, mouth hovering just above yours. “Yer mine.” His words are a claim and he delivers them softly, like a man who is sure of what he's saying. 

“I'm yours.” 

With the softest of grunts you've ever heard him release, Kid takes your lips in his. You melt into him, this kiss insurmountably different from all the others you've shared. It's soft, steady, and tender. It's not filled with brimming, raging fire or fueled by desire. It's intimate and filled with promises. It's perfect. 

When you both pull back, he cups your cheek and rests his forehead against yours, eyes hooded as exhaustion finally overtakes him. “Stay with me.”

“Aye, Kid.” You don't really know if he asked you to stay the night or to stay forever, but it doesn't really matter when the answer to the question is the same, right? 

-*-

As dawn approaches, you leave Kid to rest in your bed as you get changed and ready. Then you gather the papers Kid brought with him, the valuable information about the war front and you grimace. The papers are bloodied and dirty, a testament to what he's been through, but they are readable. In fact, it serves the purpose best like this, so your father can understand what he's endured. 

You march into your father's quarters, and his guards have the gall to try to stop you from entering. “Either of you touch me, and you'll meet my wrath.” Your fiery reputation is well known in the keep and after exchanging glances, the guards step aside. With a deep breath, you burst into the war room where your father and his advisors are already gathered, though they seem to be discussing how juicy a piece of boar meat is, instead of actual war business. They startle at the noise of the door banging, and you stride towards your father with pursed lips and purposeful steps, daring anyone to stop you. 

Nobody does. 

“Here.” You shove the plate of meat aside –almost dropping it on the floor– and slam the papers in front of your father with a loud bang. “You'll be interested in these, Father.” You watch as he cleans his greasy fingers on his cloak and picks up the parchment, curiosity lighting his eyes. 

You have to suppress a grin when his eyes widen and his mouth opens in surprise. “This… how? This information can change the war… it can bring us the support we need. This is vital.”

The advisors look at your father, then at you, also filled with curiosity. “Aye, Father. That information can sway the clans to your side and bring you the numbers you need to finish this. All without me having to marry.”

A triumphant smirk curls the corner of your lips as all the men gathered around the table begin talking with one another, discussing outcomes and probabilities, finally forgetting the food and actually delving into war business. Your father passes the bundle of papers to the advisor on his right and pins you with his stare.

“How did you get these?”

“Remember Eustass Kid?” You can’t help the way your voice softens at the mere mention of him.

“Aye, the sword I hired to protect you. The guard at the entrance reported that he returned yesterday. Was it him?” He seems incredulous. 

“Aye. He risked his neck for that.”

Your father scratches his chin, the weight of what Kid did hanging heavily on his shoulders. You’re pretty sure he’s already considering how much gold he can be parted with to compensate him. But you’re about to help him solve that problem.

“I will not marry the laird.” You state. You don’t ask, you simply inform your father of your decision because you know he cannot deny you that, not when he doesn’t need a marriage alliance anymore. 

“Fine. I barely know how I convinced you the first time. You’re free, lass, to do whatever you want.”

Your heart hammers against your chest, but you don’t let your nerves show. Not now, when you’re so close. “But I want to marry, Father. Just not him.”

A heavy sigh escapes his lips as he returns his gaze to a paper that wandered back into his hand, looking as though he has more important matters to discuss than your marriage. And he does, and this reminds you of all the headaches you’ve brought upon him, all the troubles you’ve stirred up while growing up. You know you were not an easy daughter, but you know your father loves you, in his own way. 

“Who, then?” 

“Kid.”

He lifts his eyes from the parchment in front of him to stare you down again. “The hired sword? Not a laird?”

You nod. Your throat suddenly feels too tight to squeeze any words through. 

“Impossible. You’re noble, and he’s… not. I was willing to grant you a marriage of your choosing, but I thought you wanted someone of your standing.”

You knew this was coming, so you take a deep, calming breath. “What I want, Father, is someone who fights for me, someone who is willing to go behind enemy lines and risk his neck for me. Someone who loves me so much, that he’d burn down the world for me, if only I asked. He has proven his dedication to me –and to you– a hundred times over.”

“He’s just a mercenary” Your father’s voice rises, and the room stills. “You need a leader by your side! Someone who knows the people and how to lead, not just fight!”

You place your hands on your hips to hide the trembling in them. “I know the people well enough for the both of us. I love the people more than anyone in this room.” Your voice starts to rise with each word. “Gods, I’ve done more for the people and the land than any of you combined! For once, just for once, Father, let someone love me! I deserve to be happy, too!”

Your father stays silent for a moment, his throat bobbing up and down as his thick brows furrow in deep thought. His eyes scan the information laid before him again, as if weighing everything he has and what he’s willing to lose. 

“Very well. You can marry him, if that’s what you truly want.”

-*-

You barely make it past the hallway outside the war room before you feel a familiar prickling sensation on the back of your neck. Kid’s waiting for you. He looks better, more like himself, but there’s still weariness in his eyes and a sort of darkness in them that can only come from claiming someone else’s life –and gods know he’s done enough of that for a lifetime.

“Lass, I knew ye’d be with yer da.” His gaze softens, however, when you meet. “Did he call the weddin’ off?” The hope in his voice mirrors the one that fills your heart.

“I’m still marrying.” 

“The fuck ye are! He lays one finger in yer direction, and he’s dead. I’ll fuckin’ kill him and his entire clan if I have tae! Fuck! I’ll just grab ye and we’ll run. I dinnae care where–”

“Kid!” You take one step towards him, tears threatening to spill from your eyes at the intensity of his feelings. Placing your palms on his heaving chest, you look into his eyes with nothing but love. “You would really burn down the whole world for me, wouldn’t you?”

His hand brushes your cheek gently, a contrast to the beast of a man he is. “Just say the words, lass. I’ll do it.”

“I’m marrying you, you insufferable man. There’s only you.”

He lets out a string of curses in his thick brogue, and you barely understand a word, though you know they’re all directed at you. “Ye wanna kill me. I already knew ye wanted me dead, lass!” Then he weaves his fingers through your hair and pulls you closer, lowering his face until his lips hover over yours. “Damn brat.”

“I love you, Kid.”

“Aye. Me too. Ye’re mine, always.”

“And you’re mine.”

The smile on his lips mirrors your own as they touch again in that soft, gentle dance you’ve come to know as love. 

THE END

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[jamdoughnutmagician]

Summer Lovin'

Steve Harrington x Reader (smut)

Word Count: 2,429

The blazing heat of the Hawkins' summer sun becomes too much for Steve to bear, especially when he's got you in his pool looking like every inch of his filthiest fantasies come to life.

Warnings:Smut, Steve fantasising about the reader, masturbation, hand-jobs, confessions of love, little bit of cutesy romantic fluff (I couldn't help it sorry!!) Don't hesitate to let me know if I've missed something that you want tagged!

Steve Harrington Masterlist // Masterlist

It wasn’t unusual for everyone to be gathered at the Harrington’s sprawling house, to take advantage of the sizable pool in their back garden when the midday sun of an Indiana summer became too much to bear. You and Robin wasted no time in jumping straight in, whilst Eddie laid back with his dark shades covering his eyes as he lazily floated on inflatable sun-lounger, completely unbothered by yours and Robin’s antics. The younger kids all took it in turns to dive into the pool to see who could make the biggest splash. Yes, with George and Bridget Harrington away, no-one was here to stop their only son inviting whoever he wanted to his house. Without the disapproving glare and sneer of his judgy parents, looking down at him for the company he chose to keep, Steve was free.

But what he forgot to factor in was that in inviting you over for a pool party, he would be forced to look at you in your swim-suit, and suddenly the little crush on his childhood best friend that he had been nursing for the better part of his pre-teen years and beyond, was a lot harder to ignore than it ever had been before. 

It was wrong of him to want you as badly as he did. Wrong of him to think of you in his most solitary moments of pleasure, you were his best friend for crying out loud! The person who had been there for him through everything, thick and thin. And yet he couldn’t help himself as he secretly watched you from behind his dark sunglasses from the comfort of his stretched out sun-lounger. Watching as you innocently splashed around in his pool with Robin. From the way the water droplets rolled over your sun-warmed skin, to how your matching floral two-piece bikini hugged your curves so perfectly, even down to the ever so enticing way that ties of your bikini’s strings were practically calling out to him, daring him to be the one to untangle the knot, to reveal every inch of soft skin. 

His ears are treated to the high-pitched squeals of laughter that if he thought about it enough could almost imagine that they were squeals of pleasure, keening whines that would tumble from your kiss-bitten lips, and there isn’t one part of him that doesn’t wish that it was him that could be the one to pull those sounds from you.

He prayed to whatever gods that were listening that the bulge of the semi he was beginning to sport was not as painfully obvious as what he felt it was. Strategically placing the long-ignored book he had been reading over the crotch of his swimming trunks, better to be safe than sorry right?

For lack of a better word Steve Harrington was well and truly fucked. 

“Hey Dingus! What are you doing all the way over there? It’s your pool, why don’t you get in?” Robin shouts.

“I'm alright Rob,” he shouts back before speaking up once more. “Actually I'm going to head in, I think we're running low on drinks, don’t wait up for me okay?” He says, nodding his head towards the cooler box of beers sitting on the garden table.

They weren't running low on drinks, far from it actually, if the fully stacked cooler was anything to judge by, but Steve had to get away. Perhaps he could slip inside, race to his bedroom, get himself off quickly and be back before anyone would be any the wiser.

All he knew was that his growing erection was about to be a much larger problem if he didn't act soon.

“Did Steve seem off to you, or is it just me?” you ask, turning to Robin.

“No, he was definitely acting weird. Who knows what goes on in that boy’s mind.” She chuckles with a dismissive shake of her head.

“I think I’m just going to go check up on him, see if he’s okay.” you say to Robin, pushing up on the pool’s edge before grabbing your towel and wrapping it around yourself off and heading inside in search of your best friend.

Steve hot-foots it up to his room where he slams the door behind himself with a hurried huff of breath.

Reaching down, Steve pulls the waistband of his swim trunks down just enough to free his straining erection from its confines. He brings his open palm up to his lips before spitting crudely in his hand, and reaching down to glide his spit-slick fist over himself in a costing stroke over the length of him. A shuddering moan falls from his lips as his hair falls down over his eyes, squeezing himself with a light pressure when he reaches the sensitive head of his cock.

With his cock in his hand, Steve’s thoughts, as they often did in these moments, turned to you. He thought about you and how pretty you looked in your bikini, the way the wet fabric clung to every soft curve, the way your tits were pushed together so enticingly, and how the golden glow of the hot august sun shone down on your skin. He couldn’t help but think about how you and how perfect you would look on your knees for him, eagerly awaiting the feel of his pre-cum glazed tip tracing your lips. 

You wander around the Harrington’s spacious kitchen, only to find it empty. Weird Steve said he was getting drinks, he should be here. Your feet carry you further into the house, quickly poking your head into the living room door, only to find it empty. 

Steve must have gone upstairs, so you follow suit, but as you reach the last few steps you can’t help but hear a strange noise coming from Steve’s room. You make it outside his room, knuckles poised over the door ready to knock when you realise all too quickly that’s the deep groaning noises of pleasure coming from the other side of the door. You weren’t stupid, you knew what went on in the privacy of a boy’s bedroom, and you were about to pull away, to allow Steve the privacy he so clearly needed, but that’s when you heard it. A growled moan of your name. 

Maybe you were hearing things, maybe it was a figment of your imagination, maybe some hopelessly horny part of you was hoping to hear your name falling from Steve’s lips, but then you hear it again. 

“Yeah, you'd take me so good wouldn't you, Honey. Always teasing me, you'd be so good for me, just wish you were my girl” his voice stutters out with another moan of your name.

You push on the door, finding it unlocked as it slowly swings open and your eyes are treated to the most spectacular view of Steve sitting on the edge of his bed, his thighs spread wide and tensing whilst his fist strokes over his thick cock.

The creaking squeak of the door gives you away, causing Steve’s head to whip up and he hastily tries to pull his shorts back up, hoping to god that if he closed his eyes that this would all just be a surreal dream.

And yet when he peeks his eyes open from underneath the shaggy mess of his hair, there you are, a towel wrapped around your body, your boobs pushed up by the tightly pulled starchy fabric.

“I-uh…fuck…I can explain..I think?” Steve stumbled, as flustered words fell from his lips in an attempt to save face.

And with an equally embarrassed expression on your face, your words bubble from you as you try to explain yourself.

“You ran off and I wanted to make sure you were okay and I couldn’t find you, but then I heard you calling my name and I’m sorry I barged in on you, I really shouldn’t have invaded your privacy like this” you nervously babble.

“I just needed to clear my head…amongst other things, obviously. You just looked so pretty and I couldn’t help it.” Steve begins “I tried to think of other things, I swear, but you were all I could think about, you’re what I always think about.” and before he even realises it, Steve feels his closest guarded secret unburden from his heart. 

“Y-you…you think about me?” you stutter.

Well, if secrets are being spilled, it’s better to come out with the full truth, no holes barred.

Bridging the space between you and Steve, you sit down next to him on the edge of the bed.

“I mean I guess there’s no use in hiding it anymore, but yeah, I’ve had a crush on you for the longest time. I’m sorry if that makes things weird between us.” His voice is suddenly small and dejected, as if he’d already shook hands and made peace with the imminent rejection he was sure to come his way.

“Well I guess I feel a little less guilty about my secret now.” you utter, leaning your head on his shoulder. “Because I feel the same way about you. Have done for a while, considering we're being honest.”

and oh suddenly like a switch has flipped in his mind Steve looks at you, really looks at you in all your easy and effortless beauty and he can't help the smile the spreads across his rosy cheeks. 

“Would I be a total dork if I asked you to kiss you right now?” He flushes.

“Lucky for you, I happen to like dorks.” You smile inching your way closer to him, closing the gap between your bodies, pressing your lips against his. 

This kiss starts out innocent enough, with gentle explorative pecks, but it soon becomes apparent that it's not enough for either of you, as his tongue slips between your lips and you're moaning into his mouth. The towel wrapped around your body slipping to reveal yourself to him as his hands roam every soft curve available to him. The lingering sweet scent of your coconut sun lotion filling his senses.

It's only when you're pressed up against him so closely that you're reminded of how you came to be in your current situation. His still half-hard cock pokes into your thigh as you're making out with him. An instant press of his arousal.

 You reluctantly pull away from his lips, smiling to yourself when Steve chases your lips for one final taste, before his lust-hazed eyes peek open.

“You want me to help you out with that, Stevie?” You offer seductively.

Steve feels his stomach flutter with butterflies. Stevie. It was a nickname you had called him for many years, but suddenly now it all felt different. It carried a different weight now. It was suddenly much more affectionate than it had ever been before.

“Help me out with…oh…oh..” Steve flushes even more when catches on to what you were saying. “You don't have to, I don't want to make you uncomfortable.”

“I wouldn’t have offered if I didn't want to.” you say with a cheeky smile playing at your lips.

Steve shyly nods his head and mutters a soft ‘please’ and that is all the confirmation you need before you’re hooking your fingers into the waistband of his shorts and dragging them down his sturdy thighs.

With his cock free from his confines, you crudely let a string of saliva drool from your lips into your palm to slick your hand up before you reach down to tug your fist over his length.

“Is this okay?” you ask him, continuing to softly stroke up and down.

Steve is a picture of debauched pleasure, with his flushed face, and chest rising and falling with shuddering breaths. His hair sticks to his sweat-beaded forehead as you continue to work him over.

“Y-yeah..this is good..m-more than good” he stumbles over his words. “Feels fucking amazing.”

“Good…” you coo “I want you to feel good, Stevie.” you smile sweetly, the crude, wet sound of your slick fist gliding up his cock, and his whimpering moans echo out in the otherwise quiet bedroom.

“I’m not gonna…fuck...not gonna last long…” Steve groans, the sound nothing more than a low rumble. His breaths are quicker, as he fights against wanting to buck his hips to meet your touch. 

You smile deviously as twist your fist on the upstroke, lightly squeezing his glistening pink head before coasting back down his cock, grazing your thumb along the pulsing vein that runs the length of him.

“Honey, Please…” Steve wasn’t even sure what he was pleading for at this point, all he knew was that the way that you were teasing him had him just about to explode, teetering on the edge of pleasure, ready to fall over and give in to you.

“It’s okay Stevie…” you whisper, as you press your body close to his, leaving a soft kiss on his lips. “..Want you to come for me.”

And that is Steve’s undoing, your sweet whispered words of encouragement are enough to have him spilling rope after rope of cum over your knuckles. 

As he comes back down from his high, Steve fusses over the mess he’d made. Suddenly embarrassed about how badly he needed this.

But you kiss away his worries with a smile, before looking into his eyes and licking up the pearlescent drops glazing your skin.

“Fuck..you can’t just do that..” he huffs with a tired smile. “You’re going to get me going again.”

You shake your head at him with a soft laugh. 

“Come on, let’s head back down before things start to look suspicious.” you say standing up and making your way towards his door.

“Wait, what about you?” his honeyed hazel eyes sparkle with desire as he looks at you. “Let me make you feel good.” 

You make your way back across the room where Steve is still sitting on the edge of the bed, leaning down to him to place a sweet kiss on the tip of his nose.

“I’ll let you make it up to me and then some later, I promise, right now I just wanna go enjoy the rest of my summer.” you tug him by the hand with a giggle.

Whatever had just happened between you and Steve was a new and exciting development in your relationship, and although neither of you quite knew what you were to each other yet, it didn’t matter. You had all summer to figure it out, and for now you were quite content to just have fun.  

@paybacksawitch @penguinsandpotterheads @mrsjellymunson @aphrogeneias @onegirlmanytales @wroteclassicaly @rebelfell

[sixosix]

IT WAS ALL BY DESIGN | KAVEH (2)

tags second chance, angst and fluff, time-skips, lovers to exes to lovers again, profanity, happy ending

a/n wc 6K (omfg) kaveh lore spoilers and not rlly canon compliant

previous part

when kaveh is jostled awake, he dreads the pitiful expression of the forest ranger who called for him.

kaveh now stands over people hunched and bent to their knees, picking up what they can clean and batting away the aggravated fungi.

the withering, they said.

there’s nothing left. or, well, what should be his masterpiece is just dust and debris. it was so close to being like what he imagined when he could still dream. it was so close to finishing, why—why did it have to…?

he’s the only one standing over kneeling people, yet he’s never felt so small at the moment. as if he’s back to being a little kid, unsure of what to do with himself as everyone scrambled about in front of him. he hasn’t felt this need to cry since the building blocks he had spent hours stacking meticulously on top of each other all came tumbling down with one wrong swipe.

the withering struck at the same moment kaveh thought that things were going perfectly. he should’ve known—it could never be that easy.

he only snaps out of it when you come to his side, reaching for him. he doesn’t even realize he is quivering until you run your hands through his hair, and he feels like breaking inside because he doesn’t deserve it.

he should’ve known. he should’ve known.

he should’ve listened to dori.

dori is furious with him, which is somehow even worse than seeing his own creation in ruin when it was perfectly fine the day before. dori’s face is twisted in rage, screaming at him to leave this goddamn project. large, extravagant, do whatever you want, dori had said, repeating her words, and this is what happens?

“fuck,” he groans, burying his face in his trembling palms. it’s no different from a child throwing a tantrum.

“kaveh,” you murmur, and he tenses for all the wrong reasons.

you shouldn’t see him like this, so weak and pathetic. he’s humiliated, distraught, and you’re seeing all of it. his face burns in shame, his eyes growing hotter along with it.

“kaveh,” you repeat. kaveh, stubbornly, childishly, doesn’t look up. “i’m feeling tired, can we stay here?”

“...okay.”

neither of you comment on his quaver, and kaveh knows he’s the one trembling in the knees, not you. small mercies like these give kaveh the courage to blindly reach in front of him to feel your hand. you take him, and kaveh’s never felt safer despite everything.

“remember, kaveh, when i told you that mourning flowers reminded me of your eyes?”

confused, kaveh replies slowly, “yes. you gave one to me. i still have it.”

you beam at his response, encouraged to continue. “i learned about another flower, a specialty in mondstadt. windwheel asters. i want to pick one straight from the grass, tuck it behind your ear, and watch it spin around before i get distracted by your eyes again because they have the same shade.”

“we can have someone deliver it,” kaveh mumbles, his shoulders slumping. “so you don’t have to travel all the way there.”

“yeah.” you breathe in deeply, resting your forehead against his. “yeah, i should’ve.”

kaveh hasn’t realized that the rangers and construction crew started filtering out until it was dead silent, enough for kaveh to feel like he could hear the stars speaking to him. enough where your heartbeat is the loudest sound at the moment.

“it’s okay. we can stay here for as long as you need,” you assure him with the kindest smile that he knows shouldn’t be directed at him. “i’m too tired to walk back anyway.”

“i love you,” he whispers, the first time either of you called it what it was. he feels that this is the truest phrase he had ever said, even though he’s not sure you even heard it.

kaveh held you closer to him that night, afraid that the withering would creep in and take you away from him, too.

do the right thing, no matter what it costs you.

kaveh has heard this saying before, over and over again. he first heard it from his father, and kaveh fully believed that he’d do so without hesitation if ever the time came. then from old, wise scholars who told tales of how much they sacrificed to have this much success today. but dreaming about his father brings him back to himself, curled up on a dusty couch, having returned from fontaine to attend his mother’s wedding.

if the cost is his own happiness, is it still worth it? is it still the right thing to do?

he hadn’t seen his mother smile so wide since she wrapped her arms around her new husband. kaveh wonders how she was able to let go so fast, but he finds that he doesn’t blame her because this is what she deems is the right thing to do.

no matter what it costs you.

kaveh awakes with a start in the middle of the night, when crickets are still loud in his ears, and the streets are dead silent as most of everyone has gone to bed. his head is spinning, heart racing, but there’s a fire in his eyes that he thought had been snuffed out since the incident.

“kaveh…?” you rub your eyes tiredly from where you’re resting on his chest.

kaveh smiles at the tender sight of nuzzling up to him like this, soft with sleep and smelling like him. “you should go home and clean up.”

you’re slurring your words together, heavily lethargic. “but what ‘bout you?”

“i’ll be fine,” kaveh murmurs fondly, unable to resist kissing your forehead. “i’ll be fine.” because he knows now that even if he were to do the right or wrong thing, he still has you to come back to, and that’s more than enough for him to do it no matter the cost.

kaveh sells his house.

it was almost underwhelming. he was expecting a heart-wrenching realization stopping him halfway through even making that decision, yet all he felt as he talked to the buyers was this empty feeling—the same one he feels every time he comes back to it as if it’s still his home.

all that runs through his mind is that he has a new one now. and this one, he will not even think about selling off. more than a building, more than just a house.

this revelation keeps him chin-up and strong as he faces dori and tells her about his decision. he’s sure that dori’s cunning smile will haunt him for a few days.

“you’ve been so busy, kaveh.” you narrow your eyes, studying his face from all angles with your hand on his chin. “what’s up? have you been feeling unwell? someone pushing you to your limits?”

kaveh is trying so, so hard not to smile and spoil the surprise, but you’re poking his cheek and pouting again like before, and he’s weak to anything you give him. “no,” he laughs, letting you move his face around so long as you keep your hands on him.

“you’re happy,” you conclude. “something good happened. another commission?” you frown when kaveh shakes his head. kaveh kisses the point where your brows furrow, unable to help himself. “don’t give me that. even cyno isn’t telling me.”

“cyno knows that you’ll like this surprise this time.”

“the last time you hid something from me, it ended terribly,” you warn.

kaveh huffs. “not anymore, i swear on it. because it’s finished, and i’m going to show the surprise right now.”

“what?”

it’s not quite finished, the palace of alcazarzaray. there are people on the sidelines painting the walls, some digging their hands in the dirt and watering the carefully selected flowers. he watches as your eyes draw to it first, gaze softening impossibly—and this is where kaveh knew that he did something right.

“oh,” you murmur.

kaveh doesn’t take your silence as an insult—quite the opposite. he lets you soak it all in, just like he did when the building looks more like what he envisioned, even when he’s drawn this over and over in his head and on paper.

it’s not his place. he doesn’t own it, but deep down, he proudly calls it his.

“this looks like the draft you made that day,” you say after a long moment of silence. “the one you said you did on ‘autopilot.’”

“that’s because it is.” kaveh lays his eyes on it. “i sacrificed so much for this.”

you grin, turning to him. “you know what i’ll say already, don’t you?”

“that i’ve wonderfully lost my mind?”

“that there’s nothing i wish more than to see what the world looks like in your eyes.”

kaveh blushes madly. “you shouldn’t. you’d just see yourself.”

he wanted to give you a tour, but there’s not much to be done when your lips slot against his under the stars, and you’re right in front of his magnum opus as if you’re part of it.

whispers come quickly and float long enough for kaveh to pick up on it the moment he stepped foot on the hallways.

there he is, they say. kaveh built the palace of alcazarzaray, didn’t you hear? yes, yes that one. light of kshahrewar.

he wants to smile politely when they all look at him as if he’s hung the stars, but he knows it’d only come off as bitter. they aren’t wrong: he did something right and good with that project, and everything turned out safe and finished in the end—

but it doesn’t just end there. he sits in a pile not of mora but dust and a heavy heart upon the reminder that he sold off what used to be his home for this. it cost him; does that mean this is the right thing?

kaveh takes a deep breath in and knocks on tighnari’s door.

immediately, he’s greeted by the sight of his friends: al-haitham and cyno tucked in some corner playing TCG (cyno winning), tighnari pointing in his direction, and you brightening as the door closes behind kaveh.

“kaaaveehh!” you garble happily, crashing into his chest and snuggling. “kaveh, you’re here.”

kaveh doesn’t need to sniff the air to piece two and two together. “you’re drunk already?” kaveh smiles, helping you regain balance.

tighnari sighs as he trots over, ears drooping in shame. “that’s my fault. i didn’t realize y/n took my glass until i took a sip and tasted water.”

“kaveeeh,” you wail, holding onto his sleeves desperately like someone is going to take him away. “kaveh, look at you! you’re so—so nice. so pretty. i love youuu…”

“i love you, too,” he says warmly, turning his head away so you wouldn’t see the stupid grin on his face.

in this angle, he can see the judgemental stares of cyno and al-haitham, which prompts a “shut up!” from him despite them having not said anything.

you hiccup. “kaveh, i need to sit down. kaveh, can we sit down?”

he leads you to the nearest loveseat, never once separating from you—not that he can when you aren’t giving him a chance to, anyway. “can i get a glass, too?” he asks tighnari, who was holding back laughter while watching the entire scene.

when tighnari comes back with enough glasses to have kaveh know right away that he won’t be leaving this house with steady steps, they all their glasses for a toast. to kaveh, to the palace of alcazarzaray, to everyone.

“hey.” kaveh rests a hand on the small of your back, which you bat away clumsily.

“i have a boyfriend,” you grumble, “don’t… don’t…”

“what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him,” kaveh teases.

“ugh, don’t talk to me. go away. i feel like i’m about to hurl yesterday’s lunch. i’ll do it on you,” you threaten, head lolling as you try to sit up. kaveh helps you through it, chuckling quietly when you push him off and repeating that you have a boyfriend.

and then you start crying.

said boyfriend, of course, panics, hands flying uselessly as tears fall and keep falling from your eyes. “why are—are you crying? what happened? do we need to take you outside?”

“my boyfriend… i want to be with him forever…” you sob through sniffles, awkwardly wiping tears away with a wobbly arm.

kaveh frowns. “well, why can’t you?”

“because i can’t stay here forever. but he stays here forever. i want to stay with him forever, but i can’t. i need to go everywhere, not—not stay here. my head hurts. please, i need water.”

overwhelmed, kaveh goes to fetch a glass of water, numb. “here, water. drink it slowly,” he says.

“thank you,” you say. “don’t tell him i said any of those.”

“i won’t, i promise,” kaveh says, his voice small.

without warning, you climb over and settle on his lap, resting your cheek against his chest. kaveh doesn’t know if it’s the first sip of alcohol or if it’s just you making his heart race and placate all at once—but he already knows the answer.

“i thought you have a boyfriend?” kaveh asks, carding his fingers through your hair.

“i do, but…” you exhale slowly, your weight getting a little heavier as you relax, and kaveh smiles because how could he not? “you smell like home.”

he’ll bring it up some other time.

unfortunately, he doesn’t get the courage to bring it up. he faces his consequence when it’s too late, and you’re the one to speak to him about it.

you’re braiding his hair, slow and steady, the way he likes it. you’ve bought him various hairpins that you said match his eyes. he doesn’t think he’s met someone who’s loved his eyes as much as you before. to show his appreciation, he insists on wearing all of them, even if he doesn’t need them.

“do you remember the exchange program i mentioned briefly a while back?”

kaveh ransacks through his head for the memory. he only remembers you warning him that you won’t be staying in sumeru forever when you first got together, and some drunken conversations. “i think so, yes. you said you’ll finish there. why? what brought this up?”

“i got accepted.” the last hairpin clicks into place. there are about six on his head. “i’ll be leaving soon.”

kaveh’s eyes brighten as he turns to you, expecting you to be thrilled, but you look nervous. you aren’t meeting his eyes.

“y/n,” kaveh says softly, holding your cheeks in his palms, “what’s wrong?”

“it’s in inazuma,” you say carefully. “and if i finish there and continue with my dream, i won’t really have… all the time to go back here.”

that’s too far, is what kaveh wants to say. he doesn’t, because he vividly remembers you saying you want to go everywhere someday, and who is he to bind you to him because he is selfish and needy? in the grand scheme of things, he is no one in your life.

“will you be alone?”

“no. i’ll be with anis, and i’ll have soraya come with me to liyue when the time comes. i won’t be alone.”

kaveh nods, easing a bit. “that’s good.”

kaveh must be wearing a pitiful expression if you scramble to speak again. “we can write each other letters,” you say weakly. “or i can send gifts…”

he thinks of his mother, leaving to fontaine, writing to him on occasion. he thinks of seeing his mother again after so long, seeing how happy she is, and he thinks about how he hadn’t seen her like that when kaveh was still living with her after his father’s death.

“and tie you down to me?” kaveh shakes his head. “don’t worry about me while you’re taking on the world. too many sights to see to think about me.”

your expression looks pained. “you’re not tying me down. i love you more than that.”

kaveh’s reply is instant. “enough to not leave?”

you wince, and kaveh curses himself, flinching away from holding your face to ball his fingers into fists beside him. “no, i’m sorry. i didn’t mean that, please ignore i said that. i’m sorry.”

“kaveh,” you say, and kaveh understands, more than anyone, what you’re thinking right now.

“i know.”

“kaveh, i—i’m sorry, i can’t… i don’t…”

“that’s okay,” kaveh says, “i’m glad you told me, really. no, look at me. i’m happy for you; you can be happy for yourself, too.” it feels like we had only gotten together yesterday, and it’s already falling apart.

this was divine intervention, telling him—no, reprimanding him, don’t think about it. don’t say anything else, you might as well ruin it more; toss it in quicksand, will you? this was them telling him that if things were to work out in his favor two times in a row, he’d regret it later.

kaveh takes a deep, shuddering breath. “i was planning on leaving, too. we’ve just graduated, we deserve a vacation.” he was hoping to take you with him, but only here he realizes how selfish it was. you warned him, too, so he can’t say you didn’t.

you seem relieved that he’s keeping a conversation. “really?”

“yes. just here in sumeru, though,” he says, sheepish. “you’ve set on something bigger, and i was already nervous about my choice.”

“you’ll be fine, kaveh.” you sound so sure. kaveh doesn’t know how you make it sound like you know him better than himself. “the world is so beautiful, and it can’t wait to see what part of it inspires you.”

at least, this time, he gets to say goodbye, and he gets to see you while he says it.

“so, that’s it?”

“don’t hold back because of me, kaveh,” you tell him. “if love finds its way back to you again, catch it and don’t feel sorry for me.”

kaveh wants to say it in return, but the best he can do is be selfish in silence. he doesn’t want you with anyone else that isn’t him—just thinking about it hurts him.

“i’ll come home someday,” you say. kaveh nods because he wants this promise to be real this time. “and maybe we can still be friends, if you’ll have me.”

this, kaveh realizes, is really what his father meant when he said to do the right thing, no matter what it costs you.

later, he invites tighnari, cyno, and al-haitham out for dinner.

and when they arrive at the table, the first thing kaveh says is, “i’ll be leaving next week.” his friends weren’t able to pry much from him, but they could figure it out on their own if they saw the list of the students going abroad.

things go on: too slow for kaveh’s liking, and a little unsteady from time to time, but when he pictures you living your life somewhere, he thinks he can’t let you beat him to it, so he tries his best.

it’s been a while since you last visited sumeru.

everything looks the same since you’ve last been here, but something feels different. it takes you a while to realize it’s the people walking about happily, and to you, it seems like something is missing from their ears.

you had already removed the akasha the moment you moved out, but it was still a little jarring to step into your homeland without it, and seeing people do the same. the two guards who were usually in charge of handing them out to tourists are gone from their place, too.

anis breathes in deeply, then exhales shakily. she had stayed in liyue for far longer than you had, habituated herself to it, but still, sumeru is where she looks right at home, with trees and shades of green surrounding her. “oh, how i missed this! no other region can beat the fresh and dewy air of sumeru, no matter how beautiful their architecture is.”

you nudge her. “you were the one complaining about having to leave mondstadt yesterday.”

anis scowls, huffing petulantly. “i was tired. and the goth grand hotel had funny guests. you spent all day picking windwheel asters—make a whole flower shop with them already, will you?”

“shh, don’t be so loud.” anis flails around until you free her mouth from your palm. she stares at you, scandalized. “no one is supposed to know i’m back yet.”

“you shouldn’t have come with me if that was the case, then,” anis says, and you two continue walking up the bridge of the palace of alcazarzaray.

“you were the one who begged me to.”

it’s been forever since you’ve last seen it—the pictures you took don’t compare to the real thing—and yet it feels like the first time all over again, with warmth pressed on your side and the back of your palm tingling from the feeling of someone’s lips kissing it a few seconds before.

your heart aches faintly.

anis takes note of your face with a contemplative hum. “then again, you probably missed the man behind this the most. you should be grateful that i even managed to commission him! everyone flocks to kaveh the moment they get the chance.”

“it’s because you’re also from his darshan,” you argue, embarrassed. just hearing his name makes your face heat up.

“and i’m the best friend of his ex—right, right.” anis yelps when you pinch her elbow, but it fades off into laughter soon enough. you smile, but only because her glee is as contagious as wild fungi.

passing by the palace of alcazarzaray and into a secluded hut right across it, you and anis continue catching up, recalling akademiya memories that both of you agreed never to bring up again. it was mostly groupmates you hope are still failing their darshan with their incompetence. you hear some people chiming in, telling you about how a traveler and your friends saved the entirety of sumeru. weird, but not entirely outlandish.

“al-haitham as the acting grand scribe?” anis gawks. you are probably wearing a similar expression. “what happened while we were gone?”

you sigh. “i wish i knew, too. i wish i knew.”

“oh, look!” anis gestures ahead, under a large tree that curves forward and casts enough shade for a whole garden. “that’s the place kaveh asked to meet me in. and if i’m not mistaken, that blond guy over there with the red cape…”

“oh,” you breathe.

you didn’t think kaveh could be prettier than he already was, and he was already turning heads back then. stripped off the akademiya’s uniform and into something he looks more like himself in: drop-dead elegant. you appreciate the slit on the back of his blouse. (he’s still wearing six red clips.)

anis elbows you. “you can back out. i’d rather you don’t because i know how much you missed him, but—”

“i won’t,” you say. not that you can bring yourself to turn back when kaveh is right there anyway.

“kaveh!” anis calls out; you purposefully slow your steps so you’re in her shadow, yet kaveh’s eyes still snap to yours right away.

“anis.” kaveh stands from the table clumsily, his eyes round in surprise. “...y/n. both of you are back?”

“hi, kaveh,” you greet with a wave. “you look good.” he does. too good for someone who’s currently standing a few feet away from his ex. it almost feels like revenge.

“you, too,” kaveh smiles, reluctant, “it’s been so long.”

“i like your new style, kaveh!” anis whistles appreciatively, and you want nothing more than to nod and pray kaveh doesn’t see the way you’re eyeing him. “suits you. a natural artist, even outside construction.”

“speaking of,” kaveh starts. you can’t help but notice that even when his client is right there, his eyes stray to you too often, and you’re starting to feel like some flustered teenager over it, “you’re a talented artist yourself, anis. it was a surprise to hear from you about this project.”

“i know i am, but who am i to waste the opportunity of taking advantage of my connections? i’m fortunate enough that you accepted right away.”

“of course. congratulations on the engagement, anis,” kaveh says sincerely, from one old friend to another.

“thank you.” anis smiles in return. “people in liyue were too charming. now here i am, with a ring on my finger.” she wiggles the fingers of her left hand for emphasis.

kaveh quirks a brow. “were they?”

anis grins slyly. “don’t worry, y/n wasn’t looking at all.”

you gape, incensed. “anis!”

kaveh hides a laugh behind his hand, and he’s only looking at you. “thanks for telling me.”

embarrassed, you duck your head and remind yourself that anis owes you a trip back to liyue for that. you can still feel kaveh’s stare on you, burning on your head.

mercifully, he does drop it, straightening his posture and looking more like sumeru’s most famous architect anis commissioned. you’re seeing what years and years have done to kaveh—it’s done him good. “before we get straight into it, would you tell me more about what you had in mind? along with your partner’s opinions, of course.”

and because anis is cruel and evil, she drags you along with it the entire time.

anis excuses herself to order water, saying her mouth is dry from all that talking and debating with kaveh over designs. you wonder how they even got along as group mates.

“the padisarah is clever,” you say, gaining more confidence when kaveh beams as you start the conversation. “i’m glad you learned to appreciate flora in your works. it’s perfect.”

“i’m grateful to the one who taught me all about its beauty,” he replies, eyes twinkling.

you laugh, trailing off stiffly, unsure what to say. so you don’t reply.

you want to ask him so many questions. how are you? i missed you. did you tailor this outfit yourself? you look good. do you hate me for leaving? because i do. yet looking at him, you find yourself speechless.

“where are you headed next after this?” kaveh asks, shifting his weight from one foot to another. it reminds you too much of what he used to do back in the akademiya.

“i’m not sure. i heard cyno’s in the desert right now, so i might head to gandharva ville first. say hi to al-haitham for me?”

kaveh’s expression falls. “yeah… yeah, of course. i’ll see you around.”

tighnari opens the door, his face melting in surprise. “y/n?”

“tighnari!” you greet with a bright smile, opening your arms for him. “surprise…?”

because tighnari was never really the most affectionate, he shuffles forward and lets you hug him with great difficulty. he mumbles, “since when have you returned to sumeru? you didn’t even tell me.”

“you need to be reminded of the definition of surprise, tighnari,” you laugh, stepping inside his house when he moves aside. a lot has changed in this one, brimming with more books and looking worn down than you last remember. there’s a bed on the corner, the blanket kept clean and tidy.

“have you met up with kaveh yet?”

“...of course i have.”

tighnari’s ear flicks, and he smiles knowingly. “he still loves you as much, you know.”

you grimace. is that really the first thing he’s going to talk about? tighnari was also never one to mince his words and spoonfeed it gently. “it’s been so long. you can’t assume something so absurd.”

“y/n,” tighnari says, returning to his table where he seems to be working on a concoction, “you weren’t there for when kaveh decided to leave for the desert. i’ve never seen him want to get so drunk that badly. he was just talking about you.”

you grimace. “oh.” you remember every word you’ve said clearly and his expressions that keep you up on lonely nights. “that just proves my point.”

“no. he was moping, sure. but the alcohol in his system made him all the more honest. he was just talking about you.” tighnari crushes leaves in his bowl, eyes flicking up to meet your nervous ones. “reverently, almost. like you never broke up.”

“years ago, tighnari,” you remind, face hot.

“he’s always been the most romantic one out of the four of us.”

you let the silence settle for a few moments as your thoughts wander, back to kaveh and back to the windwheel asters you kept on a pot and carried as is to sumeru. it’s never been that easy.

“well, i didn’t come here for a pep talk,” you say, clearing your throat. “is that the waterproofing oil you’ve been working on since back then? it looks much smoother than before.”

tighnari grins. “i’ve learned a lot, and i know so have you. from one amurta graduate to another, surely you know what i mean?”

he talks you through what he’s been doing for the past years. it feels like you’ve gone through a lifetime without them, but that’s coming from you, who was convinced that you wouldn’t be returning at all. if tighnari notices that your mind is far off elsewhere, he generously doesn’t comment on it.

you aren’t needed at all, yet anis still takes you to the next meeting, where kaveh will reveal his first proposal. you remind anis of this, but she only replies with:

“don’t give me that. kaveh was the one who asked to bring you along.”

you rolled your eyes at that because not even you would believe her.

but still, you come along because these quick meetings give you a chance to see kaveh without having to come up with a half-baked excuse. you’ll treasure these few days before you eventually have to see him again when tighnari—or cyno, or maybe even al-haitham—gets tired of this unbearable push and pull and forces a date. and things go south because kaveh will say he’s been happier without you, and you travel back to another region, heartbroken.

…at least that’s what you were expecting. kaveh usually hasn’t gone on for this long when dealing with clients, and both he and anis know what they’re doing. what’s more surprising than that is anis takes it all in stride, which doesn’t appease your confusion.

it’s the fifth day. usually, kaveh would be working on the building itself by now. (times change, you remind yourself, you don’t know him anymore.)

anis looks over kaveh’s nth proposal, huffing in what could almost be discerned as amusement. “oh, dear.”

you don’t see anything wrong with it. “it looks good to me…”

anis pinches your cheek, making you frown. “please, y/n. do me a favor and just ask him out already. all this hopeless pining is wearing down on his creativity.”

your face burns. “he’s my ex, anis! isn’t there an unspoken rule not to get back together with your ex?”

anis scoffs. “that rule doesn’t apply when both of you don’t act like exes in the first place.”

“i told him that if i got back, we can still be friends, that’s why…” you argue weakly.

“friends? you’re not fooling anyone, especially yourself.”

you sit under the stars and wonder if you ever went wrong, or if you’re slowly going back to the right path. you don’t regret leaving sumeru and exploring the world, but you regret ending things with kaveh like that. taking on the world had been so lonely thinking about him being happy with someone else. others from the regions you’ve visited tried their hand at pursuing you, but you’re too desperate to see blond hair and red eyes in them to let them in.

is this the right thing? being friends is better than being nothing, right?

kaveh appears from the entrance, looking around briefly before eventually—like it always does—his eyes land on you. “y/n? anis said you called for me.”

you smile at him. “yeah, i did.”

he steps forward and stops there, looking like a wary shroomboar against an armed ranger. you sigh, setting the pot aside and patting the empty space next to you. kaveh follows, sitting on the edge.

“are you scared of me, kaveh?”

“i don’t know what i can do,” he admits, and your expression eases.

you pick the pot up and place it carefully on his lap. kaveh’s hands fly out to catch it when it loses balance, brushing his hands against yours. maybe you shouldn’t be doing this sober

“a windwheel aster, for you.” you hold a finger in front of his face, feeling around in your bag to reveal another one, more crumpled and less alive than the one on kaveh’s lap, but it still spins when you blow on it. “and, uh—here, let me.”

kaveh closes his eyes when you lean in. (you’re not sure if it’s instinct.) you tuck it behind his ear, unable to help your grin when you pull away, and the breeze that catches on it makes the petals turn.

“i was right,” you say. “they look good with your eyes.”

“that’s cruel, y/n.”

your stomach drops, flinching away. you wring your hands on your lap, too ashamed to gaze at him directly. “i’m sorry, you probably didn’t—i shouldn’t have—”

kaveh reaches for your wrist, looking heartbroken. he kisses your palm, your wrist, and it’s then you realize that he’s not upset at you, but at himself. “y/n. i thought you wanted me to go easy on me and leave forever.”

“would it have been easier for you?”

“not unless you still want me to confess to you like we’re back in the akademiya, and i’m distressingly in debt.”

“aren’t you still distressingly in debt?”

kaveh breathes in the air shared between the two of you, face twisted in a way that looks like he’s barely holding back from smothering your face with kisses. “y/n, please.”

he still loves you as much, you know.

breathing hitching, you ask, “do you know what you’re saying…?”

“fate brought us together again. surely you don’t think i’ll be blind to another chance gifted to me?”

ah. tighnari is never wrong.

well, you should’ve known. you never could’ve been just friends with kaveh, not when he’s looking at you like you were never gone, and you still thought about him every night when you were.

“we can try, again,” you say. “you and i.”

“again,” kaveh agrees. “i won’t let you go this time.”

( you see kaveh there with dark bags under his eyes and his grip trembling slightly as it cuts across the page in something beyond a confident stroke—more so angry, barely held in, brimming and ready to spill.

students who pass by whisper to themselves and stare at him longer than they should’ve, but he doesn’t seem to care—or rather, doesn’t even notice that he’s in a public space. his eyes are trained on the stack of papers in front of him, eyes aflame.

anis notices your fond gaze and smirks.

she says aloud, “having this kshahrewar genius seek you out so constantly… i can’t even imagine—i’ve heard enough from my peers talking about how they regret not getting a chance to speak with him.”

“i don’t see how it’s my fault that kaveh didn’t want to entertain them.”

anis chortles. “oh, no wonder why he likes you so much.”

the collar of your uniform feels stiflingly hot all of a sudden. you hide what must be a pinched expression with a glare. “it’s not like that. it’s not.”

“you won’t be able to fight against it if it’s your fate.” anis throws an arm over your shoulder. “you should be thankful i followed your plan and made him notice you. now you’re inseparable! ah, love.” )

a/n i have never written this much before so art i hope u like it (and u owe me a xiao fic for this) <33333 but also this was actually rlly fun to write (if not for the fact that i hated writing it halfway the same reason i avoid writing long fics) rbs and comments fuel me!! ty for reading!!

[queengiuliettafirstlady]

The gentle stag Spell of Love

The gentle stag Spell of Love

Fandom: Ikemen Prince

Pairing: Keith x MC Part of : My Ikemen Valentine Gift Exchange hosted by @ikemenlibrary

Gift for @keithsandwich, I really hope you may like it 🤗

Tag: First Date Folk Festival Dancing Realization of feelings Confession of feelings Double personality First Kiss Fluff

Word Count : 3.696

Author’s Note: A festival in the countryside gives Keith a wonderful occasion to discover more about her Kingdom and about her, the one and only girl that captured his hearts.

His shyness and doubts left him prey to his anxiety as a more wicked determined side of him switched in to find a fitting epilogue to their sweet story.

All the while the romantic atmosphere of the festival and a slow dance pave the way for a romantic confession he didn't shy away from, obtaining a reward for daring so much with an unforgettable first kiss, prelude to many more, led by the powerful spell of love. 🥰

Side Note : All the images were found on Pinterest-Google and I was unable to find the source, please if any of you know the owner tell me and I will provide to give the artist the credit for the image.

I really hope you will like it and even though I worked it with MC I couldn't help but picture Maeve and Keith while writing that. 🤗

Tag list

@kissmetwicekissmedeadly @aquagirl1978 

@william-rex @candied-boys @writingwhimsey

@fang-and-feather @moonstruckmelancholic @lichtluv

@wistfulwanderingone @rjthirsty @ike-garden2024

@jollibeeshappiness @starzyquee             

@maeko-kun @rkmaru

You can find me on AO3 as QueenJuliet 😊

Thank you for everyone who will like, reblog, or comment please be gentle with me english is not my first language so please do not leave rude comments I apologise for eventual errors I hope you will like it 😊

“It's not a date.”

-Yeah, continue to tell yourself that maybe it will come true.

“Please.” I wail with no avail as he continues, relentless to speak his mind

-Come on, have you seen the way she looks at us?

“No I haven’t.” I told him, straightening my shirt a bit more forcefully than necessary, sighing heavily as I tried to brush out the wrinkles my fingers caused, hoping she wouldn't see them.

-You are even more dense than I thought you were then, failure.

“Please … stop calling me that.” 

I struggle to breathe properly. Urgently, I clutch one hand over my heart to tame its painful beating, stumbling in my hurry to turn away from the mirror I fell onto the bed.

Its softness welcomed my ungraceful tumble without complaints as I hid my face in my hands, no desire to see my pathetic self, eyes wet with tears, as usual.

After a minute of quiet I fret over going to the wardrobe to finish readying myself, with meticulous attention, I check every possible choice of clothing once again.

After all, I don't want to make her feel embarrassed.

I sigh softly, smiling at my reflection in the mirror, feeling confident in my choice of clothing.

‘What does she even see in me?” I wonder, my mood dropping slightly at the though but I quickly shook my head, trying to get rid of the depressing thoughts; I had to be in a good mood, I would hate to ruin our date.

Damn now that I called it that I can’t ignore it anymore. Even now, I have to acknowledge that it’s a date.                                                              I pace through my room trying to find an appropriate gift to bring her, even though I know she will tell me I don’t need to. I want to make her happy.

-You know she will like everything coming from you right?

“I do but I want it to be special.”

-Because it’s a date?

“Yes… No… I don’t know. You’re teasing me...” 

-There is no need to hide your love for her. After all, I am quite smitten with her too.

“Please don’t cause trouble. She is so kind and sweet I would hate it if she ended up hating us.”

-I know but I can’t help it’s too entertaining to see her flustered. 

“You should help me.”

-And why is that?

“Because … you said it yourself, you love her too.”

-The way we show love can’t be more different.  Moreover it's not like either of us have her complaining.

“No but… Please. I need your help.” I whine hoping for once he will listen to me because I couldn’t do this without him.

-Don't worry, I won't do anything that will scare her away. I would hate to see her scared of us.

Those last few words were murmured so softly I didn't think I heard it right but knowing him I let them fall instead of trying to convince him to repeat them, and explain more of what he meant.

“Thank you.”

-I’m doing it for her, not you. Just remember that.

“I know, but still, thank you.”

-Yeah that's all beautiful and all but now, focus on finding a gift for her, maybe something you could confess our feelings with.

“Great idea.”

The sound of a soft knock at the door sent me spiraling into panic in my haste to go to open the door for her. 

I trip over the sofa and as I lift myself back to my feet, I notice the clock signing the sun has already set.

She was probably checking on me to pick me up to go to the festival.

I hope she won’t think bad of me for making her wait.

OH. GOSH.

I hope she didn’t come to tell me she changed her mind chosing me as her companion for the party, what if …

My gaze ran to the door as I heard it crack open.

I let out a sigh of relief at the familiar weary expression of Liam, looking back at me.

“She said she is ready and is waiting for you in the foyer.”

“Ah. Thank you.”

He must have noticed the state of misshapen I was in. It isn’t the first time he had to see such a pathetic side of me.

Luckily for me he never told anyone about it, limiting himself to reassure me with words I needed to hear, like now.

“She is pretty excited to go out with you tonight. I hope you will have fun too.”

“Thank you, Liam. I am happy to hear that. I will do my best.”

Right when I am about to ask him to escort me to greet her, my eyes fall on a vase of flowers on my desk, with confident strides I pick a bouquet of red roses and some daisies before wrapping a red ribbon around it, hoping from the bottom of my heart she will like it and also will understand the meaning of the flowers that I picked thinking only of her.

My heart raced faster in my chest at each step that brought me closer to her.

I was lost in my mind when I caught a glimpse of her stopping me on my track, as the air got stolen from my lungs at her sight.

She always looked beautiful to me … but now dressed in a jade long velvet gown hugging her curves to perfection she was utterly breathtaking.

Hesitancy taunts me as I follow my butler, feeling once more undeserving to be next to her let alone be the object of her attention.

“You are really beautiful tonight.” 

My words tumbled out of my tongue before I could stop them, gifting me a spectacle unlike any other, a light blush spread on her cheek, she did her best to hide behind her fan but in vain, while a bashful smile curl her soft red lips as she looked up at me.

“Thank you Keith. You are gorgeous too.” 

She really had a way with words, and even though I still don’t believe to be so handsome myself when she compliments me I start to believe I am, at least to her, and this to me is more than enough.

I scratch the back of my neck, before mustering enough courage to offer her the flower I hastily had hidden behind my back.

I do my best to not stutter but my voice remains but a feeble murmur as I hand her my gift, fidgeting with my fingers waiting with bated breath for her answer.

“These are for you. I heard here in  Rhodolite usually men bring flowers on their dates. They are not much but I really do hope you like them.”

“Oh Keith They are gorgeous.”

Her eyes lit up like a child as she bring them carefully to her chest raising them up to inhale their sweet scent, her smile  so pure and warm to outshone the sun, engulfing me in a cozy hug like the ones I rarely receive, her happiness the biggest reward I could ever receive shining bright piercing through the darkness of self doubt and insecurity in me.

After a while she spoke once more while a sparkle of excitement swam in her gaze.

“I really do hope today’s date will succeed your expectations. The countryside is such a spectacle in summer and I wished to show it to you, since you said you would have liked to know more about it. Aboe all I hope you will have fun … with me.”

I don’t miss the way the words tumble from her lips, almost as she is scared I will be dissatisfied with the visit, nor the way her pearl like teeth sank in her bottom lip, as she fidgete nervously with the hem of her sleeves.

I really am grateful for her thoughtfulness but there is no way I wouldn't like it if she was with me. Even if she were to bring me to the borest party in the world, I would still treasure that moment we spent together.

“I am more than sure I will like it. I trust your judgment about beauty far more than mine and this makes me even more eager to see it for myself.”

The sun returned to her features as she hooks her hand on the arms I offered her, chatting all the way in the long carriage ride that will bring us far from the city landscapes and into the wild, for a spectacle I am more than sure it will be worth the wait.

Once we reach our destination I am the first to descend from the carriage offering her my hand, she takes with a graceful bow of her head, thanking me in her sweet voice.

The scenery was like spots of paint in the vivid tableau.

Luscious green hills and trees extended before my eyes, reflecting in the light waves of the lake as a fresh breeze blew over it scattering petals in the wind along their sweet scent.

Everything was so beautiful and yet nothing was even remotely comparable to her.

As we walked side by side I stole a glance her way.

She really is the most gorgeous sight of them all.

Her soft curls cascading over her shoulder ever so softly while her bright trusting eyes looked at everything with so much wonder I  am left speechless almost as she was seeing it for the first time.

Even though I know it is not having discovered her identity, luckily, without retorting to anything I would have felt guilty of.

“I hope you will enjoy yourself tonight.”

As ever her sweet voice was like a wind chime ringing in the wind, soft and yet thrilling a light amidst darkness, taking me out of my overthinking habit. 

“I don’t doubt I will, everything is fun when we are together.”

She stopped right in her tracks looking up at me. 

OH.

The realisation of what I said sank in shamefully so.

I clamp my hand over my lips, paying no mind to my trembling fingers as I press them further into my cheek. 

Gosh I must have sounded like a creep, of course I have, now she will hate me… 

“Ahahah.” Her laugh interrupted my anxious thoughts spiraling out of control before they could lead me to switch. Feigning nonchalance, I slide my hand over my chest, hoping to tame the wild beating of my heart admiring the gorgeous smile shining bright on her lips, reaching that gorgeous gem her eyes were.

“I am so glad to know you think that because, you see… I feel the same.”

There is a hint of shyness in her words as she looks up at me taking my hand in hers. I’ve never been more aware of how delicate and yet strong she is all at once. 

Not like me, big and dumb …

My thoughts are once more scattered to the winds as I feel her plush lips melt on my cheek.

Wonderful. Now I am the one who is flustered, like it’s anything new to me, yet this time I find myself unable to tame the racing of my heart as that soft kiss still lingers on my skin and her perfume surrounds me. 

Sweet intoxication… I wouldn’t skip an occasion to lose myself in this moment,and so I do.

I close my eyes letting her sweet scent invade my nostrils reaching to cup her face with trembling fingers taking in the softness of her locks as I lay ever so softly my lips on her hair, revelling in the soft laugh escaping her.

Slowly I pulled back, a sudden rush of bravery surged in me. I took her hand in mine, smiling shyly as I felt her soft fingers entwine with mine paying little to no mind to everything else.

The village we found ourselves in was nothing short of a sight to behold, straight out from a fairytale.

Flowers of all colors cascaded from balconies, magical ornaments of golden and silver shined at each corner while lanterns hanged around the streets bathing it in a warm suffused light, a cacophony of chats and laugh reached my ears mixed with a suffused music I strain my ear to get where it comes from, smiling as the pleasant scent of cotton candy invaded my nostrils.

In no time at all we were both laughing like children, trying to eat a very soft and big cloud of it without mess … almost.

“I always loved cotton candy.” She sigh in satisfaction taking a bite out of it

“Me too, I rarely had the occasion to go to festivals but I remember always looking out for it too.”

A shadow of nostalgia clouded over the bright sun over my eyes, as I remember with fondness such an easy time when I didn’t feel like I was a failure… Not so completely as I did thereafter.

Startled by something warm pressing against my chest I look down, smiling fondly as I see her hugging me.

Mindlessly I took her cotton candy stick in one hand before wrapping one arm around her.

“Thank you.” I brush a soft kiss on her hair, reassuring her with a smile, missing her warmth the moment she stepped away.

To dispel the awkwardness she must have felt, noticing it in the bashful look she sent my way, I offered the candy cloud back to her, smiling at her soft murmur.

“Thank you.”

“My favourite flavour was caramel, but everything was fine to me as long as it was sweet. Yours?

“Strawberry.” Sun returned in her eyes as she gave a bite out of her pink fluffy cloud, smiling at me as to prove her point.

She really was so adorable I couldn’t help but reach to touch her cheeks, brushing off a dust of sugar staining the corner of her lips.

I would have been too startled from my own actions per usual but the sight of her blushing smiling bashfully at me and her gorgeous gaze filled with affection as she looked up at me occupied all my thoughts, making my heart race wildly in my chest.

As we wander a bit more around the stalls I raise my eyes to the sky, admiring the twinkling stars embroidered in the blue velvet blanket of the night, but looking carefully at them I see that the most glimmering stars of them all is the one at my side.

Her eyes reflected the whole galaxy in it as she looked up for her own, her smile so bright to outshone the sun as she beamed at me pointing out to me a constellation I taught her to.

The thought she took a liking to it because of me warmed my heart, the idea that someone could find happiness with me behind my wildest dreams and wildest odds, genty I squeezed her hand in mine, lifting it to place an ever gentle kiss on her knuckles.

“That is your reward for being such a diligent student.”

Even in the dimly lit alleway I could clearly see how bashful she smiled at me, hiding her rosy cheeks with her hand curled in front of her lips.

In that moment sweet notes swirl in the air, pushing me to follow her everywhere she went as she wandered in every direction to find the way where it came from.

Strange melody times carried away, memories of my first visit to Rhodolite came back in my mind along those sweet notes that spoke of a country life so different from my own and yet that I always secretly yearned for, finding little comfort in the spotlight and much more at home surrounded by animals.

Once we arrived at the town’s square we saw a rainbow of gown swaying in the breeze in time with the music, shily I glanced at her, pondering her thoughts and desire.

Yearning written all over her gorgeous feature as she sigh softly admiring the dancers waltzing on the ballroom floor.

I was almost too shy to approach her, compelled to admire but not to touch. But in that moment she turned to look at me, her bright eyes moving me to the core, like a siren enchanting me to give in to temptation, to cross the line of the forbidden and take her as mine.

A rush of courage pumped in my vein as I noticed a flicker of doubt in her gaze. 

I wouldn't have let her be the subject of that kind of insecurity, especially since I am far from not interested in her.

Dare I say I adored her with all my heart.

But even though she knows and gets along with me and him that didn’t write off the fact she may have been not interested in a romantic relationship with me.

After all, who could have loved a weirdo like me ? I brush off my doubts, smiling back at her, desiring to make her understand the depth of my feelings.

So I dare to take her hand in mine and let her guide me in the dance following steps unknown to me and yet so familiar, mirroring her own movements, laughing at each mistake on my part, taking delight in being taught something so fun by her.

The sweet melody accompanied our dance but I didn’t see anyone else except her. 

The whole crowd was looking at us and I was determined to give them a good show.

Alter Keith 

I really am guilty of switching in so suddenly.

Who am I kidding ? I love being in the spotlight.

I had to or else he would have kept beating around the bush with her and I can’t stand it, not when she reciprocated our feelings.

I had to do what he did not dare to, for our sake.

As ever I will grant your wish, but in my own way.

The moment was right it would have been a sin to let it slip by, and I certainly was not the type to quietly wait doing nothing.

The warm light of the lanterns and the sweet melody of the violins and the flute created a romantic atmosphere around us.

We were the only ones still standing on the dance floor, while the other flew away to the four winds.

It looked like we were the only ones in the world and to me we were, lost in our own world.

Her lips ever so soft curled in a gentle smile her eyelids fluttering as she gazed at me with so much affection in her eyes I don't know what to do but kept spinning around her, drawn like a moth to a flame 

Slowly I leaned over her, she didn’t pull back, ever so softly I melted my lips on hers.

I expected her to do anything, shove me away, even slap me anything but what she did.

The sweet sensation of her lips kissing me back.

I imagined it countless times and yet nothing could have prepared me for what it would have felt like.

The confines of my being blurred and for once I did not mind if I had melted into a kiss, feeling like I really did have felt a place of my own where to belong, in her arms.

Her body trembled against mine and I wrap my arm around her form, keeping her still, losing myself in that sweet kiss claiming my every sensation,

It tasted like a fresh herbal tea on a hot day, a ray of sunshine on the skin, a warm hug, a sweet treat.

And I wondered for the first time if it's what love felt like.

Because if it really was so sweet, I really didn’t mind growing a sweet tooth like him.

I pulled back, leaning my forehead to hers. er lips, oh so kissable, the thing I yearn to conquer again and again curled in a bright shy smile.

“I love you with all myself, my little bunny.”

“I love you too Keith, all of you.”

What a wonderful girl she was, loving us both.

I ignore his astoundment as he began to pace in my mind until he finally stops to mull it over in a corner

-Ya aren’t happy ? I moved things forward for us.

Of course I am but … You could have told me of your plan.

-So you could have stopped me ? Nahh. It was more fun this way I assure you.

She really is too patient with us, we don’t deserve her.

-Maybe we don’t but I won’t let anyone take her away from me, not even you so stay down and follow me if you don’t want me to ditch you.

Of course I don’t want that. I saw him sigh softly Alright, but only because she is on board with it too.

In the meanwhile I took her hand in mine as we made our way back to an inn, since it would be too late to go back to the palace.

I think to myself a smirk making its way to my lips, even though this is not the whole truth, the rumors of us being lovers will spread all over the Kingdom and beyond after we spend a night together, and I really look forward to make them real.

Gently I squeeze her hand in mine, meeting her gorgeous gaze filled to the brim with affection.

We have so many things to talk about, my personalities and my role, what would be expected of her, but for now all I want is to spend a pleasurable night with her, doing everything she feels like, testing the water before diving head down with an official engagement.

A promise we will do to her because nothing, and no one will ever dare stand in our way, we will protect her at any cost and prove everyone that indeed there is something stronger than everything in this world and this the unbreakable spell of Love.

[countrymusiclover]

13 - The Mikaelson Ball

Part 14

Gemini Runaway

Tag list ask to be added @dragonixfrye @secretdreamlandmentality

(Raelyn's Dress)

Caroline and I with our arms linked together with one another, walked up to the Mikaelson’s mansion. She was wearing some heels but I kept my boots on since you could see them with the front of the dress being see through it part of the front. There was music blaring when we came through the door and from the looks of it the whole town was invited. “I’m going to find Matt. I’ll see you later.” She squeezes my arm leaving me on my own.

Scanning my eyes across the crowd I couldn’t find anyone I really recognized but I paused feeling someone staring daggers into the back of my head making me slightly turn around finally seeing it was Klaus. “Klaus…..woah. You clean up rather well.” He was in a black tux but he had a white bow tie that went well with the white shirt underneath his jacket.

“Raelyn, you look stunning in that dress. I must say your designer must have good taste.” He shook his head almost frozen in place by the girl in front of him. I had actually curled the ends of my hair and tied two strands of my hair back in a clip. Paired with my brother's necklace as always.

Leaning up on my toes I smiled up at the hybrid who was taller than me. “Oh I'll be sure to let him know…excuse me sir are you perhaps Nik Mikaelson I must tell him what a splendid job he did on this dress." I mocked pretending to search around for Klaus even though he was standing right in front of me.

"You're so silly sometimes, Rae. I don't think I've ever laughed this much with anyone else." He chuckled, bending his head down to me smiling.

Placing my hands together in front of me, sending him the same expression back. "I can say the same about you, Nik. After what happened to my brother I - I didn't think I could have fun anymore."

"I'd do anything to keep you happy, Ms. Lane." He responded simply lifting his gaze up towards the long winding staircase where his gaze locked with his mother who was watching us and wearing a black cocktail dress from the looks of it. "If you're still worried about her, why don't you just go talk with her?"

"Oh hell no. I can't possibly do that." I made a noise in disgust at his proposal.

He responded. "She might like you."

"Or she might want me dead like the Bennett witches did. A witch without their own magic is basically against nature." I cut him off quickly.

He stepped closer where I could feel his hot breath mixing with mine. "A vampire is also against nature, Raelyn."

"Yeah but that doesn't mean…" I didn't really know what to say back.

Klaus whispered, sending me a cheeky smile. "Aren't we the perfect pair then? Uh Raelyn I have to join my mother. I'll find you shortly." He maneuvered through the crowd of people now standing on the staircase with his mother and siblings.

Elijah declared to everyone in the room. "Welcome. Thank you for joining us. You know, whenever my mother brings our family together like this, it's tradition for us to commence the evening with a dance. Tonight's pick is a centuries-old waltz, so if all of you could please find yourselves a partner, please join us in the ballroom."

I moved through the crowd of people accidentally stumbling over someone's dress where we both tumbled to the wooden floor. "Oops sorry I'm sorry." I immediately apologize for getting to my feet and helping the girl up.

"It's fine, it was an accident. I'm Elena…and you're the new siphon witch in town the Salvatore's are afraid of." She knitted her brows together for me to notice she had dark brown hair and brown eyes. "But they won't really tell me why."

Knitting my brows at the girl I asked softly. "If they are so protective of you then why are you here exactly?"

"The original witch invited me. Apparently she wants to speak with me alone about something." The brunette responds.

Glancing over my shoulder back at the staircase I could see that she was indeed watching us from above. "I wish I could tell you what she wanted to tell you but I don't know anything about it. What I can tell you though is the Salvatore Brothers have nothing to fear from me. Klaus has no intention of using me as a weapon against you and your friends. He's simply offered me a home and protection from my own monstrous family."

"What do you mean monstrous family?" She asked.

Sternly looking at her I decided to tell her what she really wanted to know. "My Coven tricked me into killing my twin brother. Have a nice dance, Elena." Turning on my heels I could faintly hear Damon ask her.

"Why were you talking with the enemy witch?"

Clutching my hands into fists I was getting really annoyed with him anymore. I might just consider throwing his ass around since I revealed the other night that I have enough power to take the Originals to their knees. Some people pushed me around where I nearly tripped until someone put a hand on my waist. I grabbed their forearm making them wince siphoning some magic until they spoke up. "Ah! Raelyn, it's me, love."

"Oh sorry, Klaus." I apologize quietly removing my hand from his arm.

He cleared his throat, removing his hand from my waist and offering up his right hand instead with a slight bow like I was a queen. "May I have this dance, M'Lady?"

"Yes." I snorted a laugh at him placing my hand in his letting him lead me into the crowd with everyone else getting in line for the dance. Placing one hand on his shoulder he put his other on my waist keeping our other hands intertwined together.

"You seem nervous. Your heart's beating faster." He pointed out making me roll my eyes at his vampire hearing.

"Is this going to be like the dances we practiced?"

He said. "Yes, except we will have to switch partners occasionally."

"Switch partners!"

He leans forward nuzzling his nose against mine chuckling. "Don't worry, little siphon. If any of my siblings becomes your partner they all know the moves quite well."

The music began playing where everyone started spinning around the room in step with the tunes that were being played. Klaus squeezed my hand twirling me out and back into his chest a few times making me smile. “Let me try to twirl you now.”

“Alright let’s see you try, Rae.” He smiled when he removed his hand from my waist. I let go of his shoulder. I raised my arm as high as I could where our hands were still intertwined and he spun out. Yet when I spun him back in I did it faster than I thought where we tumbled to the ground causing some of the people dancing beside us to break away and send us glaring looks. “We might have to work on that one, love.”

I chuckled, hugging my knees to my chest even though I had a dress on watching him get to his feet offering me his hand. “Yeah you’re probably right, Nik. Thanks.” He tugged me up to stand with our chests pressed up against one another beginning to get back into the dance routine.

“Don’t panic darling but we have to switch now.” He told me where I gulped nervously letting him twirl me out of his arms with my blonde hair throwing around in the air.

A new set of hands caught me where my gaze lifted up meeting the brown eyes of Kol. “Hello darling, fiery witch.”

“Hi Kol. I hope you know this dance like your brother said. I’ve only had a few lessons.” I responded by placing my hands where they needed to be and we began the dance once more.

Kol smiled down at me closely, focusing on my necklace around my neck. “So what type of witch are you. I have never seen one who was strong enough to bring all Originals to their feet.”

“I apologize for that I was just afraid that he would die, he’s the only person I honestly trust at this moment in my life.” I explained meeting his gaze for only a brief second.

He tilted his head cursively. “Hmm. So what type of witch are you?”

“I wasn’t born with my own magic. My mother referred to what I am as a siphon. I draw magic from anything that has supernatural powers. Vampire, werewolf or witches. I can also take it from objects such as I took magic from the wall. But I always have to take from something else regardless.”

Kol smirked, moving one of his hands to brush over the blue diamond necklace. “Have you ever considered turning this into a source to place your powers.”

“I don't know what you mean, Kol.”

“Turn this jewelry into a talisman for your magic. That way you can just siphon magic from it unless you need a stronger source then you can siphon from someone else.” He explains spinning me out and back into his chest where we broke away bowing to one since everyone else was doing so.

I smiled actually, never thinking that was possible. “I never thought of that. How do you know about it. Could you teach it to me?”

“Before I was turned into a vampire I was a very powerful witch like you clearly are. But yes I can help you do such a thing someday but it seems my brother wishes for your attention.” He nodded his head making me look over my shoulder seeing Klaus coming over to us.

He smiled, holding his hand out for me. “Brother may I steal Ms. Lane froze you. I wish to show her something in private.”

“Of course, Nik.” Kol took my hand kissing the palm of it before going to find another dance partner. “It’s been a pleasure, Raelyn.”

Klaus led me up the staircase and down some hallways before we entered a large room filled with paintings and drawings. The supplies were scattered all across the room putting me at awe until he shut the door letting the music die down. “In the time I have lived in this house, how have I never come across this room before now?”

“It’s one of my passions.” He replied with his hands behind his back. “Do you like it?”

I smiled in his direction seeing that he was worried that I wouldn’t. He probably wouldn’t dare to let his guard down with anyone else. My eyes landed on a large painting on the wall in front of us. “This is amazing. You weren’t kidding when you said you were an artist…I take the curators at the louvre aren't on vervain.”

Klaus sighed with a smile. “Yeah, well, that's their mistake. So how was your day with Caroline?”

“It was good.”

“Oh come on there has to be more than that.” He presses on wanting to know more.

Shaking my head at him he was trying to be noisey. “Sorry Niklaus but if I told you that would break the girl code.”

“Not even a peak.” He tried again nudging me with his arm, making me nudge him back.

“Not a chance.” Moving my eyes across the table in front of us I could see piles of sketch drawings. Picking up one of a girl looking off in the distance I asked him finally to look at him. “Wait a second. Did... Did you do these?”

Klaus nodded at me watching my espression. “Yeah. What do you think of them?”

“They’re incredible. My brother would be more impressed than I am. He wanted - um would have been an artist.” I sucked in a breath fighting back some tears.

“Actually one of my landscapes is hanging at the hermitage, not that anyone would notice.” He replied, biting his lip.

Pushing some of them away I paused recognizing a familiar face on one of the drawings he had done. Lifting the page up I scanned over the image carefully hoping that I wasn’t missing something. But the image was so clear: the matching eye shape, the slight curly hair and the genuine smile that he last gave me before he died in my arms. “You….you drew my brother, Jacob. But how…I…I don’t see how you could have.”

“Yes I did, Rae. It…it was the night you showed me into your memories. I did my best to remember what he looked like. I am not completely finished with it but it was supposed to be a surprise.” Klaus turned to fully face me not expecting that I would have found it underneath all the others. “What uh - what do you think? I can have it finished by tomorrow if there’s something I missed.”

I cut him off sitting the picture down grinning through happy tears that I now would be able to see my brother happy and not go to sleep seeing him die at my hand. “No don’t do anything it’s perfect. That’s how I want to remember him - that’s how he should be remembered. I can’t believe you did this for me…no one ever has…I - thank you.” Flinging my arms around his neck I buried my face in the crook of his neck.

“You’re welcome, little Siphon.” He wrapped his arms around my waist, hugging me back until I broke the hug still keeping my hands on his chest. “What do you say about getting out of here huh?”

“And where would we go?” I decided to play along with his game. “London, Italy or New Orleans.”

His grin grew wider across his face. At my words the blue of his eyes lightened up. “Rome, Paris, Tokyo. Wherever you want. All you have to do is ask, love.” He slowly began to lean forward and I did the same moving my hands around his neck feeling him move his arms around my waist tugging me until I was pressed up against his chest.

I moved my head upward so close to kissing him until we heard someone banging on the door causing us to pull apart. “Nik. Rae. Mother is ready to make the toast!” That could be identified as Rebekah.

“I’ll put a dagger in the next person who interrupts us!” Klaus growled showing me his golden werewolf eyes.

Running my hands down his chest I broke the embrace we shared. “Hey, be nice. She’s your sister.”

“I’m still annoyed with Caroline too.” He grumbled watching me open the door waiting for him to follow me.

Smirking at him playfully I flipped my hair over my shoulder leaving the room. “We could always run away for the weekend with the world at our fingertips, Nik.” He grinned at the idea following me outside to see that there were waiters bringing around glass filled with red liquid and his mother was standing at the top of the staircase holding her own drink.

She makes a speech while Klaus handed me one of the glasses clinking it with mine. “Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. Waiters are coming round with champagne. I invite you all to join me in raising a glass. It provides me with no greater joy than to see my family back together as one. I'd like to thank you all for being part of this spectacular evening. Cheers. “ He takes a drink first and I followed but I felt a bitter taste in my which was weird but I sent him a smile back.

Comments really appreciated ❤️

[wolf-among-mechs]

Inspired by the ongoings ongoings in the battletech tag as of late I've decided to throw my own lot into the tumbled HPG network.

So hello to each and everyone this broadcast may reach.

I am Major Asuka Hoshi of the Warsong Corp. I have been part of almost my entire career of this mercenary company which has close ties with Wolf's Dragoons. Which is where I started. The journey has been a little bit complicated to put it mildly. My position is that of a mech warrior. I have been worked as a lance leader and a mech tech, mostly for my own mech. I've fought outside of a mech numerous of times. I've fought on Solaris and under almost every banner of the inner sphere... Except house Kurita they do not like me very much. But all of them have shown me a face of betrayal at least once.

Naturally my view of the inner sphere and beyond has been through the mech cockpit. But I would lie if I said I didn't find a certain joy in seeing everything from artillery, logistics, aerospace combat, infantry and vehicles all coming together in concert. There is an art to it. One of far more complexity than painting mechs in my spare time.

I would love to talk about different mechs, vehicles of all manners as well as the small details around the business of war. At least from the mercenary side of things. I do not know how the houses affairs differ from what I see in this regard. Presumably, not very much when things get down to it. In the meanwhile I will peruse the contents of the network and speak my mind on matters.

Until then friends, remember. My guns may be for sale but my honour sure is not.

[featherlouise]

Radi Fcking dies Speedrun Edition has become less of a joke and more of a legit idea in my mind

I don’t know how they killed Radi so quickly (to be fair it was like a week or two) but I’m thinking a combination of Stabbing and Void, but they just full blown attacked until it was done? Like they used the wounds she caused to poison her as they fought to put their nail/claws through her heart

There were consequences for this, it’ll take them a While to recover fully (I don’t know how dream-void loss and dream injuries would affect a real void body?)

I’m unsure of what exactly would happen but maybe they (semi) spontaneously revive, are up for like maybe 30 minutes, then down again and basically comatose (but alive) for anywhere from a week to a 6 months.

And as for how things went after they woke up during the funeral, well…

They tried to sit up and immediately bonked their head on the glass (cracking it? 👀) so that got all of the attention on them instead of the speaking PK, and I don’t know enough about how crowds of people react to a supposed corpse suddenly sitting up and looking for it’s father to say how it goes from there.

As for how PK reacts? I have no idea

-💚

Oooooh this idea fucks actually ngl

There is actually a happy variant of hfd where they immediately defeat radi and then are comatose for a little while, and then everything is basically just hurt/comfort (see: early infection au tag)

So!! I imagine it'd go kind of similarly??

With the immediate aftermath, they're probably VERY out of it, but manage to tumble out of their coffin and onto the floor, which prompts Hornet to finally manage to break free from her mother's hold to run and hug them. They manage to hug back briefly before just passing tf out.

Uhh with the crowd, I imagine they'd probably immediately break out into murmurs, and start to crowd round Hollow bc mob mentality is a bitch, so Herrah has to literally shoo everyone away. She prompts Hornet to hop onto her back and she picks Hollow up and starts making her way towards the palace, intending to put them somewhere comfortable bc they're clearly not as dead as everyone assumed.

Meanwhile PK is up on a balcony or something just watching it all go down, bc he's just in complete shock.

Herrah pauses as soon as she's near PK's balcony and idk how to describe the expression she makes but whatever it is, it prompts PK to literally fly down to where she is and start leading her to the palace, as the crowd parts around them.

For the next 6 months, the only word of what's going on in the palace comes in the form of a notice that announces the Prince's awakening, and it takes a further 6 months for them to be introduced to the public

That's all I've got off the top of my head :))

[xxrainbow-princessxx]

Does Distance Make The Heart Grow Fonder? - Oneshot Isabella x Mafia!Leo (Rules of Engagement/The Royal Romance AU) - Part 2

Read Part 1: Here

Summary: Isabella and Leo’s Kingdoms both were overthrown by the Via Imperii. The Crown Princess along with her family were exiled whilst the Cordonian Royal Family went underground, fighting to reclaim their throne and hold over the Cordonian People through other means.

TW: Cursing, Implied Violence, Violence, Implied 🍋

Tagging: @lorirwritesfanfic @drakewalkerfantasy @rainbowsinthestorm @lorircreates @beyondsimsreality @kimmiedoo5 @mom2000aggie @kingliam2019 @secretaryunpaid @rafasgirl23415 @twinkleallnight

“What the fuck are we doin’ here Li?” Drake looked around as they stood in the Royal Gardens in the capital shoving his hands into his leather jacket pockets, “All this place is candy canes and cotton candy, it’s nauseating…” Liam’s brow raised as he scanned the crowd, searching, hoping he wasn’t too late. “Come with me…”

The back of Liam’s hand tapped Drake’s arm as they made their way through the entrance, his ocean blue eyes locked onto a figure sitting across on the other side of the skating rink in a black cashmere pashmina, black skinny jeans and a pair of tan suede boots with her caramel curls tumbled over her right shoulder. “Do you know who’s sitting across from you right now?” the former Prince grinned as it finally sank in to Drake why they were here, “…I need to find out some information before anyone else does…” Drake looked confused as Liam charged forward but Drake pulled him back quickly, “Li?! What the hell is going on?” Liam’s brow began to furrow, “Listen Drake…” he sighed before pinching the bridge of his nose, “Isabella is over there and apparently she has two kids. Leo’s acting funny about it and depending on how old they are, there’s only two people I know who might potentially be their father… Leo or you… so for everyone’s sake, I need to find out before the big guy does for all of our sakes…” Drake began to chuckle much to Liam’s distain, “Seriously?! You think it ever got that far?!” His chuckle became louder at the insinuation, “Everything else, sure… but unlike your brother Li… I don’t always think with my dick…”

Isabella sat calmly on the bench watching her two daughters skate, effortlessly gliding across the thin sheet of ice, spinning and twirling as if they were weightless. Their happiness brought a content smile to her face until she heard a familiar voice speak to her, “Good evening Crown Princess…” Isabella kept her gaze forward; sat beside her Liam, who one could be forgiven to think he was her bodyguard or a statesmen due to his impeccable posture. Unlike his brother, Liam never truly could shake his former Royal etiquette training. “Buenos noches Señor Rys… what can I do for you? It seems I am having a reunion of sorts today…” Liam chuckled under his breath as his gaze met the floor momentarily whilst he removed his leather gloves, “Seems so your Royal Highness… these two yours?” He gestured towards the two figures in their eye line. The petite brunette nodded in acknowledgement “Cute kids, are they identical?… Sorry to pry…” Liam began to grin, “Leo told me…” Isabella slowly sucked in her cheeks before taking in a deep breath, “Yes… yes they are…” Liam slowly turned on the seat to face her, Drake standing guard behind them both, “Isabella…” the sandy haired Cordonian begged her, “…please tell me the truth, for everyone’s sake, who is their father?” Isabella searched his ocean blue eyes for a hint of hope, “Do what you want with me Liam… just promise that no harm will come to them…” her dark chocolate eyes began to well up, biting down onto her lip, she finally nodded as tears rolled down her face, hiding her emotion from her children only a few meters away “Leo is their father… They’re your family…”

Liam slowly put his arm around her in comfort, “Isabella… I promise nothing will happen, but you need to tell him and tell him soon…” The Laurentian beauty began to shake her head, “That’s not possible… he can’t know… all the things he’s done, all of the cruelty, the first thing anyone will do is go after them as retribution, you can’t…” the younger Rys brother looked up towards the darkening sky with a heavy sigh, “My brother is many things but not one strand of hair on their heads will be harmed, I can promise you that without any doubt but honestly…” Liam’s face softened as he calmly spoke, Isabella knew exactly what he was going to say, “…it’s safer if you tell him… he owns half the city, the other half owe him rent… I can imagine the University only pays so much…” The petite brunette began to shake her head, “That’s not why I am here! I don’t need your money Liam… I have my own outside of my academic work… we are fine…” Isabella turned towards the former Prince with a sullen expression, her long dark eyelashes fluttering, “They ask of him… They’re old enough now to be questioning his presence…” folding her arms, Isabella sighed heavily, her shoulders dropping as she exhaled , “I fell pregnant just before the agreed engagement and our exile. With the uprising and the Via Imperii’s influence, it was easier to just disappear without having another scandal to tear everyone apart… no one could have predicted what would come of us all…”

“Mama…” Isabella’s two little munchkins skated across to her pouting, “You weren’t watching!” But before Isabella could speak, Liam smiled warmly, “Sorry little one…” he placed his hand against his heart in earnest, “…it was all my fault your mother was distracted, please accept my warmest apologies…” The twins were wary as the man who sat beside their mother looked familiar, much like the man they met before after school. Both were dressed in matching navy pea coats, their french braided pigtails hidden by a set of pale pink earmuffs and matching mittens keeping them warm. “Don’t be rude…” Isabella quietly and softly spoke, “Please introduce yourself to Liam and Drake… they’re friends of mine…” In unison, the twins cooed, “Hi Liam, Hi Drake…” they shuffled back and forth on their skates but introduced themselves separately, “I’m Natalia and I’m Alessandra…” Liam bowed slightly to them with a polite grin as he sat, “It’s a pleasure to meet you both…” but the twins focused on the dark, tall, brooding man standing behind Liam and their mother, “Hey…” the Texan grunted back before the girls happily went off to skate again. “Sánchez …” Drake cleared his throat, the first time he acknowledged her. The Laurentian beauty’s spine tingled at the sound of his voice, “Liam’s right… it’ll destroy him if he never knew. Give him the chance to do the goddamn right thing for once…”

“Fine…” Isabella sighed as she closed her eyes slowly in contemplation, “Have him come here tomorrow morning around 10:30am, the girls will be at school by then…” discreetly passing Liam a small business card with her address and number on it. The Laurentian beauty slowly began to smile as she clapped her daughters skating performance, “Now please fuck off…” she spoke softly, only loud enough to allow Liam and Drake to hear her, “…You’ve both overstayed your welcome…” Drake tried not to laugh as Liam placed the card in his pocket, sarcastically acknowledging her short but sweet outburst, “Good to have you back in Cordonia Crown Princess, your manners were always impeccable…” Drake nudged Liam with a lowly chuckle as they walked towards the waiting Porsche, “Sánchez hasn’t changed…” before shoving his hand into his jean pocket to remove the car key, “You think she would give the big guy another chance?” With a heavy sigh, Liam pursed his lips as he opened the car passenger door, “I don’t honestly know Drake… he’s changed, she’s changed… they’ve changed to survive…”

“Here…” Liam flicked a piece of card onto the bar that his brother found himself slumped over like many evenings, trying to get the day’s actions out of his head. There was one rule under Leo’s roof; what happened outside of those four walls was not discussed inside them; business was business. “Need a top up?” Liam gestured with the decanter in his hand pouring himself a stiff brandy but Leo sat quietly, stirring the drink he had already with a flick of the wrist, his eyes drawn to the bright white piece of embossed paper. “Drake and I bumped into an old friend…” he began to smile as he poured the drink, “She wants you to meet her there at 10:30am tomorrow morning to talk…” the former Crown Prince’s brow furrowed as he looked at the address, “Why the fuck is she in that dump? She should be in the penthouse suite, not a fucking apartment…” Liam quietly shook his head, “Leo… she’s making the best of her situation; I’m sure if Isabella wanted a penthouse suite, she would have one…” A grunt and a glare came across the room from one brother to the other, Liam knowing not to poke the bear any more than he was willing to. Leo rolled his eyes “I asked her to go to fucking dinner, not drink coffee at an ikea breakfast bar…” the sandy haired Cordonian huffed under his breath before downing his drink and slamming it on the counter. “Better than nothing I suppose…” Liam pondered over this brother’s behaviour for the rest of the evening. Why was Leo reacting in the way he was? He knew she was exiled, knew she lost almost everything - so why would he have higher expectations of her lifestyle? Was this Isabella’s plan all along so Leo would give her the luxury she was already accustomed to? As Liam retired for the night, he had some uncertainty and hesitation about Isabella and Leo meeting the following day. With his expectation and her situation; it could easily end up in tears.

The next morning, Leo dressed to impress. Crisp white fitted shirt with the collar left open emphasised his strong broad shoulders and muscular build paired with blue tailored suit trousers and tan leather dress shoes. The sleeves of his shirt were rolled up to his biceps, clearly showing his tattoo collection that he had accumulated over the years and the hours he had put into keeping himself fit. He left his compound early, he didn’t need another pep talk from his brother to remind him of how important this morning would be but it was a good reminder to be cautious. The former Crown Prince didn’t know whether it was nerves or simply butterflies in his stomach whilst he drove towards the Capital. No music from the radio played on the journey; allowing the tall, sandy haired Cordonian alone with this thoughts. Hell, she was the love of his life; once - how much change could there be? Parking his Aston Martin at the club he owned, Leo thought it best to walk to Isabella’s building rather than drawing even more attention to himself. He needed to clear his head, after six years, what would they talk about? His wrap sheet? Why she disappeared? Who knows, but Leo was willing to find out.

Leo knocked on the door, he waited and no answer. He knocked again, he waited - his patience wore thin as most people don’t get passed the second knock without the door coming in around them. He raised his hand once more, only to have Isabella open the door with a smile, pulling on a knitted jumper over her sports bra that matched her yoga pants and fluffy socks, “Sorry…” she quickly apologised before stepping aside to let Leo enter. First thing he could think of when his sea green eyes observed the apartment was small. They had shared suites that had a cleaning closet bigger than the living room but it was modest and it was home. “I needed somewhere quickly to rent near the University, so this was the quickest space I could find…” Isabella pursed her lips, stopping herself before she sounded desperate. “Cosy…” was all that the former Crown Prince could muster. Leo could put this whole apartment into his garage with space left over. What the hell was she thinking? Cordonia was a changed Kingdom; once prosperous and peaceful, now dark and criminal. There wasn’t even enough locks on her door to satisfy him. She needed at least another five. The petite brunette sighed, her gaze finding his before she giggled, “I forgot how tall you are…”

Leo’s stony expression was starting to warm up before he clenched down on his jaw, dragging himself back into the nothingness that he always felt, “I don’t think it’s a trip down memory lane that you wanted me to come here…” Isabella bit down on her lip as she began to shake her head, “No…” she softly spoke, “…I am ashamed of what I’ve done, but you need to know something…” Leo rolled his eyes, “Guilty conscience? You should have…” his nostrils flared with anger but his speech was cold and calculating, “You left Bella… you fucking left, disappeared off of the face of the earth. You left me! You left us!” The Laurentian beauty bit down onto her lower lip as a tear rolled down her cheek, “I deserve that… but I have my reasons…” Leo snorted, “What reasons? I can’t see any reason that would make it ok to just leave regardless of what happened, we could have dealt with it together!” Isabella slowly sucked in her cheeks with a sigh. She handed him a deck of date stamped Polaroids, “You have two reasons that’s why…” Leo’s sea green eyes narrowed and glared wildly towards her, “What is this?” He snapped, throwing the pictures back at her, watching as they tumbled to the ground “What game are you trying to play Bella? The last guy you had sex with not want to play daddy so you come back thinking I would believe you, don’t be so pathetic!” Every muscle in his body tightened, burning with vexation. If this was someone else who crossed him, they would no longer be talking; but it was her.

The Laurentian beauty rolled her dark chocolate brown eyes in distain of Leo’s ignorance, “Seriously Leo?! Do I have to spell it out for you?” She angrily gestured to the photos that lay at her feet, “They are your daughters you fucking idiot!” Leo’s gaze dropped to the floor staring at the photos in disbelief, “They just turned five during the summer, they’ve been asking where their father is… and what a fucking disappointment he’s become! Just like your father, you pay off or kill off a problem!” With a deep breath, Isabella screamed as loud as she could, “and I’m sorry that I became one of those fucking problems to your family, so don’t you dare lecture me in having a guilty conscience! Can’t have the pregnant Princess out of wedlock ruining your precious Coronation can we?!” Leo stood there, stunned as Isabella screamed at him with all of her might, falling apart in front of his eyes. Leo stepped forward, the anger he felt turned to an ache. The same ache he felt for the past six years since she left. Taking the petite brunette into his arms, Isabella forcibly hit his chest with clenched fists trying to make him let her go. “Get away from me!” she cried harder with each pound her small fists gave to his chest, trying to push herself away but Leo couldn’t let her go, “Shush kitten…” he croaked, finding it hard to swallow as one of his hands found themselves tangling through her long dark curls as she wailed against his chest.

As she settled, Leo’s hands softly cupped Isabella’s cheeks as he tilted her head up towards him, “Bella…” speaking softly, his sea green eyes searching hers to find the truth, “Tell me what happened?”

[awkward-fink]

Hi, Fink! :D You know, I like your answers a lot! The one about the recipe book was really sweet, actually! :> I'm wishing you a very nice wedding! 13 years is a very long time, so I'm sure you and your partner will last :> Best of everything, though!!! And yeah, I never reblogged any of those games, actually, because I knew no one really cared about me as a person and that everyone was just here for my writing and nothing else ^^; I wanna make others feel appreciated, though! Especially other writers! I hope I can convey this through my nonsensical tags! If not, then I shall send you asks telling you how great your writing is :>

I hope you won't get overwhelmed, though! Because I used to get 2-3 requests per day and towards the end, I gotta admit, I hated most requests that I got ^^; So I hope you'll have more fun than I did :>

Anyway! How about 🖇 ⭐️ 📝 🌞?

I think that's most of the questions, actually! Some of those are rather personal, and I'm not sure if I should ask those, but I think the ones I asked should be okay! Anyway, have a nice day :>

Hello Seeks! (sorry I abreviated your name, hope it is alright to you?!) Yeah, 13 years sure are a long time. But it feels like so much longer and only a few years at the same time. I trust my other half completely and we are quite alright together. I would spam you if you ever posted something like this and I would be able to see it XD I can be a right menace about this! You make me feel very appreciated and I love your tags and your messages, i smile wide when I get something from you! Nonsensical tags are a love language on their own and I am here for this! You rule with those!

And really you can ask anything, if I dont want to answer something, I am going to speak up, for sure!

Wish you a wonderful evening!!

⭐️ what is one of your biggest accomplishments? Why is it so important to you?

Uff…. I don’t think I have one? I mean, I don’t count my relationship that’s going for 13 years now, I don’t count my university graduation. I think it would probably be me, holding out all alone 500km away from my family and my other half for the Covid time. The restrictions in the area I was in, were very strict. I couldn’t have visitors, I was not allowed out, I was not allowed to meet anyone at work. And so on. It was very lonely. But I held on for 2 years. Until I decided for myself, enough is enough. Quit work, looked for a new job more at my old home and my other half. Thankfully found something.

What did I take away from that? “Always remember you are braver than you believe, stronger than you seem, smarter than you think, and loved more than you know.” (Winnie the Pooh.) 

📝 last thing you wrote

…. Porn.  Something I don’t think I will post on tumble. Maybe on Archive later on, but… we will see. Not many seemed to like my last work of that art here on Tumblr XD

🖇 what are your favorite asks to answer

….. O.O ehm.. Don’t know? I have fun writing so I try everything. I might prefer something slightly silly or slice-of-life, or Horror, but really, I like trying to write other things. And answering asks? Just gimme some and I will throw something out^^ And if I don’t like something, I am going to say so.

🌞 A show you would recommend to anyone

The Great British Bake Off or TopGear (the older ones) or MythBusters! Every one of those is fun and you learn something^^ Most of my science knowledge came from there, every one of those 3 shows holds precious knowledge.

[girlkisser13]

francesca

"do you think i'd give up" "that this might've shook the love from me" "that i was on the brink?" "how could you think, darling, i'd scare so easily?"

a/n: i just finished bingewatching season 3 and i am OBSESSED with francesca.

pairings: francesca bridgerton x fem!reader

warnings/tags: period era homophobia. mostly fluff.

summary: you confront francesca after she kissed you at the danbury ball.

francesca had always been the more enigmatic member of the bridgerton family. her quiet demeanor often set her apart from the whirl of social activities that defined the bridgertons. but today, as she sat alone at the pianoforte, her fingers gliding over the keys with practiced ease, her mind was anything but serene.

it had been a week since the danbury ball, a week since the moment that now consumed her every thought. a week since she had impulsively kissed the one person she knew she shouldn't have. her heart pounded as she replayed the scene over and over in her mind, wondering what had possessed her.

the sudden sound of the door opening startled francesca, her fingers faltering on the keys. she turned to see you, standing in the doorway, your face a mask of determination. you were the object of her restless thoughts, the woman she had kissed in a moment of reckless abandon.

"y/n," she breathed, rising from the pianoforte. she felt a rush of emotions—fear, regret, longing—all colliding within her. "what brings you to bridgerton house?"

you stepped into the room, closing the door behind you. "we need to talk, francesca," you said, your voice steady, though your eyes betrayed a flicker of uncertainty.

francesca felt her heart sink. she had known this confrontation was inevitable, yet she had dreaded it all the same. "y/n, i must apologize," she blurted out, her words tumbling over each other in her haste. "i was entirely out of line at the ball. i should never have—what i did was unforgivable. i acted without thinking, and i deeply regret any distress i may have caused you."

"francesca," you interrupted, raising a hand to stop her.

"please, let me finish," francesca implored, her voice breaking. "i have spent every moment since in agony, fearing that i have ruined our friendship. you must know that i never intended to cause you any harm or discomfort. i beg of you to forgive me for my rashness and-"

"francesca," you interrupted, your tone more insistent this time. "are you quite finished?"

she fell silent, her wide eyes filled with fear and remorse as she met your steady gaze.

you stepped closer, your gaze never wavering. "you haven't given me a chance to speak," you said gently, taking francesca's trembling hands in your own. "you are mistaken if you think that kiss was entirely unwelcome."

francesca's breath caught in her throat. "what do you mean?" she whispered, scarcely daring to hope.

your eyes softened, and you gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. "i have thought of little else since that night," you confessed. "and i have come to realize that my feelings mirror your own.

before francesca could fully process your words, you leaned in and pressed your lips to hers in a kiss that was both tender and resolute. francesca's eyes fluttered shut as she returned the kiss, the weight of her fears momentarily lifted.

when you finally parted, francesca's eyes were filled with unshed tears. "y/n, i am terrified of what this might mean," she admitted, her voice shaking. what will everyone think? our families, the ton... what if they find out?"

you cupped francesca's face in your hands, your touch gentle but firm. "we shall face it together," you reassured her. "i knew full well the consequences when i came here today. i have no intention of allowing fear or the opinions of others to dictate our hearts. i care about you, francesca. and i believe we can find a way to be together, even if it is not easy."

francesca's tears began to fall, but she smiled through them, overwhelmed by the depth of your love and affection for her. "i am afraid," she admitted.

"but i am more afraid of losing you."

"you will not," you vowed. "you will not be able to scare me away so easily. i am here, and i am yours."

she smiled, her eyes shining with affection. "then let us face our fears together," she said. "whatever comes, we will face it together."

she wrapped her arms around you, clinging to you as though you were a lifeline. "together," you echoed.

as the two of you stood there, wrapped in each other's arms, francesca knew that whatever challenges lay ahead, you would face them together. and for the first time in a long time, her heart was truly and utterly at peace.

[oh-katsuki]

Golden Boy (Izuku x Reader)

Masterlist 

Pairing: Izuku x Reader

Summary: Izuku was a nice boy, except when it came to you. Yup, UA’s golden boy really knew how to treat a slut like you. 

Content Warnings: Dubcon, slight noncon, dacryphilia, size kink, face fucking, overstimulation, creampie, degradation, humiliation, spit kink, choking, finger choking, pet names, ooc izuku

Word Count: 5.6k 

A/N: I got SCARY h-word over this man and decided that I literally wanted him to hurt me and spit in my mouth. He’s too nice to not be a fucking freak, goodbye. 

Anyway, thank you to @eremiie , @mikaberries , and @veroyktv for beta-reading this!! I appreciate y’all !

Izuku tormented you all through high school. It was almost shameful to admit the way that his gentle teases melted into something far more sinister as the weeks bled into months and years. What started as subtle comments turned into  outright taunts and then the contactless threats no longer remained empty. 

No one believed you. And who would? 

Izuku was a model student and a good friend, someone with a kind disposition who wanted nothing more than to become the greatest hero. What reason could he possibly have to bully you? You’d never done anything to him. 

But he did. For three years he mercilessly taunted you and it only got worse your final year. 

Izuku would pinch at your thighs, sneering at you in the hallways when no one was looking. He’d snake his hand up your skirt and squeeze the supple flesh hard enough to leave bruises that eventually littered the entire inside of your thigh. They looked incredibly vulgar and Izuku would torment you about it endlessly, despite knowing that he’s the one who left them. 

He’d crowd you against the lockers after most people had gone home, knowing you’d be there late after your tutoring sessions. 

“Tsk. Quite some marks you’ve got there.” He’d say, stepping up to you, his broad shoulders squared, a half smile creeping onto his face as his eyes studied the inside of your thighs. The marks littered the otherwise smooth skin, visible when looking at you from the front. 

“You get them from slutting yourself out?” Izuku would ask, stepping toward you again. “Y’look like a bit of a whore, don’t you?” 

He’d lean in close to your ear, venom seeping into each of his words as he cornered you. His hand crept up your skirt, eyes trained on yours which widened with fear as he pinched down, relishing in the yelp of pain that escaped you.

You wondered how someone like Izuku could make you feel so small and so insignificant.You couldn’t even bat his hand away as he made a fool of you, pinching at the inside of your leg with thick, calloused, and scarred fingers. It didn’t matter how tall or strong you were because it always seemed that Izuku was bigger, domineering in attitude and words. He really did know how to reduce you to a helpless thing. 

It seemed Izuku was growing more desperate by the day as graduation gradually crept closer. It was like he made less of an effort to hide it, blowing into your ear and whispering vile shit to you while in class, things that would make anyone squirm in their seat. He’d start bumping into you, singling you out, making an effort to get you noticed by his friends so he could have you as a little plaything whenever they hung out. 

And you let him. You let him make a toy out of you, tagging along with Iida, Uraraka, and Asui on Saturday outings, letting Izuku pinch and prod at you from across a restaurant table.

The truth was, Izuku Midoriya fucking terrified you. 

So you couldn’t say no to him. To everyone else you looked like nothing more or less than one of his many admirable friends. Promising quirk and a promising future, what a match for UA’s golden boy. 

You were at your wits end and by the time graduation rolled around. No one listened to you. Hell, people often brushed off Izuku’s very genuine threats as classic childhood teasing. “You’re such a good sport!” they’d say as Izuku patted your back, laughing an all too cheery “just kidding!”

How were you supposed to focus on graduation day, all dolled up in your cap and gown, unwilling to admit to yourself that maybe it was for him? Still, you found yourself automatically flinching whenever Izuku came around, eyes following him across the lawn as he ignored you in favor of photos. Izuku had a promising job offer waiting for him, and his many awards won during the ceremony earned him several congratulatory handshakes as well as pictures for the school’s newsletter. 

Still, he’d catch your eye when smiling for the camera, an all to familiar glint in them. His smile made you sick to your stomach, made it churn in the worst of ways. It was doing back flips as he stalked across the lawn towards you until his sturdy frame was against yours. He leaned down, lips brushing beside your ear to whisper one final taunt. 

“It’s a shame you’re not wearing that little skirt of yours,” Izuku breathed, eyes flitting over the cap and gown. “Would have liked to pinch those skank thighs of yours one last time. S’what you deserve.”  

And then he stood there, watching the way tears began to crowd your waterline, threatening to spill over as three years of tormentation came to what felt like an underwhelming head. Izuku tilted his head, watching the way water stained your made-up cheeks, before taking his thumb and wiping the tears from your eyes. 

“Don’t cry, doll.” He taunted, voice far too sweet for the words that fell from his lips. “I’m not near done with you yet.” 

Why was his tone so comforting? So confusing that you weren’t sure if it was dread or relief that filled your senses, ears suddenly feeling clogged with water. Your eyes darted from his to anyone on the lawn who could see you, who might be watching as Izuku pushed you to tears with only a few words, until you caught Bakugou’s gaze. 

Ah, Bakugou Katsuki, someone who’s done to Izuku what he does to you. It’s a bit of a fucked up little triangle because while Izuku was bullied by him and you are bullied by Izuku, you couldn’t help but hope that Bakugou would be the one taunting you, the one pinching your thighs. At least that’s what you told yourself. Maybe he’d help you, after all, he was probably the only person who’d believe you in the first place. 

So once Izuku had wiped your tears with a condescending thumb and left to go partake of other party activities, you pulled Katsuki aside by the shoulder, fingers digging into the meat of his bicep. 

“What in th- you?! The fuck are you doing?” Bakugou asked, eyebrows furrowed in the permanent scowl that he wore so frequently. 

“Sh, look please just, hear me out.” You spoke, voice hushed as your eyes shifted around. You had the feeling that if Izu saw you with him, you’d be in for it. “I just- I really need help.” 

Bakugou was about to scoff, was about to roll his eyes and walk away until he saw the redness under your eyes that the makeup couldn’t hide. The way you sniffled slightly as you asked and the way you looked to the floor. He’d never seen you like this, almost broken. It was something he’d seen often in Izuku, but something about seeing you like this made him ache. 

“What?” He responded, trying not to seem too invested. 

“It’s Midoriya.” Your voice grew quiet, almost in shame as you spoke the formal version of his name. 

“And?” Bakugou was impatient. He cared about you but not enough to sit here for five minutes while you stuttered. “Spit it out.” 

“He- he won’t leave me alone.” The words tumble from your lips so fast and before you know it, your hands are balled into fists on his chest, the material of his gown scrunched inside them in a plea. “He’s a nightmare, he pinches me and says the most awful shit to me. I- I mean, the inside of my legs and thighs are littered with bruises and n-no one believes me.” 

“Midoriya? As in, ‘shitty deku’ Midoriya?” Bakugou takes a step back in slight shock. 

“Yes!” You shout, far louder than you intended, pulling him closer slightly as you hush your tone in a whisper. “What the fuck am I supposed to do?” 

He nudged you off of him, brushing off his gown. Bakugou would be lying if he said it didn’t make his blood boil. Sure, him and Midoriya had buried the hatchet a long time ago but he still wanted dirt on the guy, plus he thought it was a coward move for him to bully someone as pretty as you. Though after seeing the way your eyes get wide in fear, he can’t say that it wasn’t incredibly tempting. There was something enticing about how you looked when you begged, no doubt Izuku saw it too. 

“You’re too sensitive.” He scoffed, meeting you gaze and watching the way your expression fell. “What you do is graduate and forget about that shitty extra. There’s really nothing else to it.”

You reached for him again out of habit this time, like if he turned around now you’d really be thrown to the wolves. 

“N-no, Bakugou, please.” You plead again, tears once again gathering in the corners of your eyes. “I-I can’t. I just need help.” 

Oh, he gets it now. 

He sees what makes you so appealing, what makes it so easy to walk all over you. You looked pretty when you cried. So he leaned in, his scowl turning into a smirk before speaking again. 

“No.” Bakugou’s smirk turned into an outright grin, eyes crinkling at the corners before he stood back up. “I graduated. Shitty Deku is your problem, not mine. Deal with it yourself. Just stop talking to him or whatever.” 

And with a wave of his hand he was off, walking towards his group of friends. Well, there goes your life line, the one person who actually believed that Izuku was tormenting you wouldn’t even lend you a helping hand. You supposed it was too much to hope though, and he was right, you could forget… stop talking to him. Why did the idea of that suck almost as much as staying under this thumb? 

“____!” Bunette locks bounced as your friend came towards you, hand outstretched in a wave before she pulled you into a hug. “We’re all going to Midoriya’s place to celebrate graduating, come with?” 

You liked Uraraka. Well, you actually liked all of Izuku’s friends. They were sweet and honestly none-the-wiser to Izuku’s torments and taunts. She wore the kindest smile, eyes bright with the excitement of finally starting her adult life. 

You glanced at the rest of them, eyes flitting around friendly faces until your gaze met Izuku’s. He looked upset, eyebrows furrowed slightly and eyes cold as he stood there. They all agreed, urging you to go before Izuku spoke up, smiling gently at you over the top of Uraraka’s head. 

“You should come. We’ll miss you if you don’t.” The rest of the group nods their agreement, but it wasn’t them that pulled the small okay from your lips. It was Izuku, the way his eyes had a threatening glint to them as he spoke, a smile creeping into them in the most unsettling of ways. Your stomach was turning again, twisting over and over because something about the way Izuku looked at you made you squirm. 

“Yay! Okay, we’re all gonna meet there after!” She smiled, taking your hands in hers and giving a small squeal. “It’s gonna be so fun!” 

And with that she was bouncing off with Asui in the direction of Kaminari and Kirishima. 

Izuku stayed behind, walking slower than his friends so he could bend down to speak to you. You could feel his breath against your neck as he spoke, words sending shivers down your spine. Despite the way your heart hammered against your rib cage, you tilted your head to hear him better. 

“You better be there, doll.” He muttered. “It’ll be worse for you if you’re not. Be a good girl for once, yeah?” 

He sounded more upset than usual, hand coming up to squeeze your shoulder hard enough to make you flinch, and when you looked up to meet his eyes, he didn’t wear his standard grin. Izuku looked angry, furious even. It made your skin crawl, made heat creep up your neck and onto your cheeks so furiously that you found it hard to see through. 

All you could do was nod, fighting the pout that tried so hard to paint your face. You squeezed your thighs together instinctively at the phrase. He never praised you, not even once. Hearing the words “good girl” drip from his lips so angrily made them fly shamefully south. He gave a small laugh before walking off. It was almost like he knew, leaving you to rub at your sore shoulder. 

---

Why were you here? You could have just not come and then you never would have had to see Izuku again, never would have had to deal with him until one day in the future when you’re too successful a hero to pinch. Still, you wouldn’t admit it to yourself or anyone else, but you might miss him. The teasing was a nightmare but it was attention, something that reminded you that at least Izuku still saw you. 

He couldn’t be ignoring you if he was calling you a slut. 

You arrived after everyone and Izuku opened the door for you with a jeering grin before stepping aside to let you in, pinching at your thigh again. He noticed immediately that you wore a skirt and he didn’t have to wonder why. It was an invitation for him, of course. 

You’d actually never been to Izuku’s house, so sitting in his living room eating snacks and drinking was unusual to say the least. It was surprising because beyond pinching you in the doorway, Izuku was being oddly kind. 

He sat next to you, his thigh pressed against yours, but he didn’t try anything. Didn’t whisper in your ear or grab at the fat on your side. You couldn’t help but ask yourself why. Even as the latter half of the day droned on, you were on edge despite being treated, finally, like one of the group. What did you do wrong? Was he no longer interested in you? Most importantly though, why were you upset that he wasn’t pushing your buttons? 

The end of the day came quickly, dark settling over the house while everyone gathered their things to leave. You’d all walk home together, leaving Izuku alone in his house. He smiled as everyone waved goodbye, bittersweet tears in his eyes as his final high school hang out came to a close. He cried at the ceremony while delivering his speech and then again at his house while Uraraka babbled on about her appreciation of UA. You can’t say you felt the same. 

“Not ____.” He said as you slipped on your shoes, placing a hand on your shoulder. “I’ll walk her home since she lives in the opposite direction. Plus, I gotta give her something.” 

Izuku smiles at his friends, who all nod their understanding. They wouldn’t suspect that he’d do anything wrong, that he’d be keeping you behind to maybe, finally, torment you. What a fucked up way of thinking. The door to his house clicked shut and your blood ran far colder than you thought it would as he approached you. 

“What’s wrong, doll?” He taunted, a fake pout adorning his features. “Thought I’d let you off easy? After today?” 

Izuku raised an eyebrow before rolling his eyes at the realization that you don’t know what he’s talking about. 

“Wow, you really are a slut aren’t you? Clinging to Bakugou so shamelessly today?” He scowled looked over you. 

Your eyes widened, lips parting as you remembered grabbing at Bakugou’s shirt, pulling him towards you earlier that day in a plea for help. 

“Did you think he would help you?” He sneered. “Bakugou’s just like me. He doesn’t care about a whore like you. Did you think that if you pushed against him like that he’d cave? Fold because your perfect body was flush on him?”

Izuku took your face between his pointer and thumb, spitting venom at you, waiting for you to respond. His compliment flew over your head. 

“N-no.” Yes. “I swear Izuku… I- I didn’t-” 

“You- you- you didn’t what?” Izuku responded, mocking your miserable stutter. “You’re my toy. Pisses me off when you let other people play with you.” 

And then he’s dragging you towards his room, pulling you into the cramped space and closing the door behind him. He’s muttering like he usually does, pushing you onto his bed so you’re sitting on the edge. 

Why were you so relieved right now? Why was your cunt already sticky with arousal? Why did every single word he was saying to you go straight south? You take your bottom lip between your teeth trying to find a way to shake your head in protest— to get up and leave— but the movement just wouldn’t come. Instead, you hang your head, eyebrows pulled up and cheeks flushed with heat as he stares you down. 

“Why are you doing this?” Your voice is barely a whisper, hardly audible over the sound of his frustrated breathing and your own rampant heart beat. “I’ve never done anything to you.” 

Izuku scoffed this time, stepping forward and taking your face in his hands again. 

“Haven’t done anything?” His words are venomous and his face is inches from yours, hot breath fanning across your cheeks. Were his hands always this big? “Dressing like that and saying you ‘haven’t done anything’?” 

His eyes flit down to the fat of your thighs, free hand groping the flesh hungrily, hard enough that it had you sucking in a sharp breath. Izuku couldn’t take it anymore, squeezing your cheeks and pressing his lips to yours in an aggressive kiss. 

Truth was, you drove Izuku batshit crazy. Right from the moment he saw you he could hardly contain himself, prancing around in that tiny fucking skirt with an ass like that. Daring to act so innocent when he was gripping the edge of his desk to keep from pouncing on you as you introduced yourself to him, as you hung all over his middle school bully, or as you flashed your hot pink panties while in class. 

To him, you were asking for it and the way you played dumb only made his blood boil further. Izuku was a nice boy, always had been, but the day that he made you cry, telling you that you kind of looked like a slut in your skirt, was the day he knew that he’d have way too much fun with you. 

Your eyes got so big, welled up so quickly with tears that he knew were caused by him. It made him proud, made his chest swell at how quickly he could completely ruin your day. This must be how Bakugou felt, to some degree, except chances are that he wasn’t thinking about what your puffy, swollen lips might look like when you’re choking on his cock. 

He’d been thinking about it since he met you. Pushing you further and further because you were just so fucking cute when you cried and if he couldn’t consume your thoughts because you like him, then he’d have to settle for consuming them because you’re afraid of him. 

You grunted against him, eyes going wide as his lips crashed into yours. You were spinning, heart pounding as his tongue dipped into your mouth hungrily. He pulled away from you quickly. 

“Drive me fuckin’ crazy, looking like that.” Izuku seethed. “If you’re gonna play clueless, y’might as well make use of yourself. S’what you deserve.” 

And without asking he pushed you from the bed and onto your knees in front of him. You knew where it was going, knew that Izuku wasn’t going to let up because this boundary was being crossed. Still, you shamefully rubbed your thighs together, blinking up at him in confusion and arousal. 

“Such a whore.” He said, freeing his cock from his pants and letting it slap against his stomach. Izuku relished in the way your eyes widened, in the way you unconsciously licked your lips. And then he’s tapping the side of your mouth with his cock, head tilted back in a taunt as he watches the way your eyes brim with premature tears. He’d show you real crying. 

“Suck it.” A simple command, but one that had you shivering. He kept his hand on your shoulder while his fingers dug into it with a force that was all too familiar. is cock throbbed in his hands as you sniffled and parted those pretty, glossed lips. 

Izuku didn’t wait, no, he couldn’t wait, pushing his full length to the back of your throat and beyond, groaning when it entered the tight, wet space beyond your mouth. His head fell back and his mouth fell open at the way you choked on him. Tears forced their way out of your eyes and down your cheeks as he began fucking your mouth. 

“Y-you’re a real crybaby, huh?” He cooed, a lazy half-smirk gracing his face. “You did this to yourself. Such– a fucking– tease.” 

He accentuated his words with harsh thrusts into your throat, drool pooling in your mouth and dribbling down his cock to his balls. It ran down your chin, mingling with tears as he continued to fuck your throat. 

Izuku was big, far bigger than you expected him to be. He completely filled your throat, stretching your unprepared mouth open. You could feel the sides of your mouth pulling at his size, lips cracking as you struggled to take all of him with each of his thrusts. Still, when you looked up at him through big teary eyes, knees growing sore from the way his fist held you to the floor, other hand pulling you against his cock, your cunt grew wet with arousal. 

He pulled you off him by your hair, watching the way you gasped and sputtered and sobbed. He loved the scratch in your throat as you coughed and he picked you up by the arm and crawled between your legs. 

“Wearing such a tiny skirt to my house.” He spit. “You knew what you were doing, lookin’ like that with your ass out and shit.” 

Izuku’s eyes scanned over you hungrily, like he’s been waiting to get you here for so long. Fuck, he still looked big, hovering over you and supporting his entire weight on one of his arms as his other hand wandered down. He flipped up the fabric of your skirt, admiring the way you flinched as his hand ran up your inner thigh. 

His hands ran over your figure, squeezing at the fat of your stomach, thighs, and chest. Izuku has been dying to get a piece of you since you met, since he first laid eyes on that frustratingly sexy figure of yours that led him to spiral to this moment. His hands dipped back to your inner thigh, ensuring that your skirt was out of the way, though it was so small already that it proved no obstacle at all. 

His breathing grew heavy, hand gently gliding along the supple flesh that he’s pinched so many times, marks from your final day of classes still fading. Izuku’s eyebrows were furrowed together as his hands found your panties, touching you over the fabric that was now soaked through. His eyes snapped to you so fast as he pulled the fabric aside with calloused fingers, wasting no time dipping his fingers into your soaking folds. 

“You fucking pervert.” He sneered, glancing down to show you just how wet you’d gotten, all for him. “You like it when I’m mean to you? So fucking dirty.” 

Izuku rubbed a swift circle around your clit and you brought your arm up to hide your face, biting into your forearm to muffle the sounds. You shook your head, squeaking out a no as his fingers curled up into you. 

“You sure about that? You’re dripping.” Izuku grunted, curling his fingers with his entire forearm and hearing a moan from you. “See? Fucking slut, giving me those eyes, like a lost puppy.” 

It was undeniable how you clenched around him and he let out a curt laugh of disbelief. 

“Oh… you like that name, don’t you, puppy?” He dipped down to bite at your neck, humming into the skin. 

You squirm beneath him but he has you caged in under, your legs unable to move around. Your stomach still turned in fear of him, but that fear was mixing with the intense pleasure building in your core. Even his fingers were a stretch and you could feel his thick cock hitting your abdomen with each aggressive curl, your mind consumed with just how good it would feel for him to break you open. After all, he’s chipped away at almost every ounce of self respect you had. In fact, he practically already owned you mentally, now he was just claiming what he should rightfully own physically. 

“I hate girls like you.” He spat, fingers picking up their pace as you were sent barrelling towards your high. “Acting like you don’t know what you’re doing to me. So fucking stupid. But look at you now— Your cunt is practically drooling on me— pathetic.” 

You were close, hot with arousal as he lifted your arm from your face. 

“Getting close huh? I can feel your whore cunt clenching. Y’wanna cum?” He grinned widely through furrowed brows. 

Your eyes were glossed over, tears spilling onto your cheeks and for a moment Izuku almost felt bad for you. Still though, you were just too fun to fuck with, too fun to absolutely ruin. You looked prettier than he could have imagined right now; face sticky with tears of arousal, embarrassment, and fear. Izuku was a nice boy, he really was, except when it came to you because now he just couldn’t stop himself from ruining your cunt. 

You were close, impossibly close as you bit your lip in an attempt to muffle the whiney yes that breached your lips. It was involuntarily, almost a survival response as his fingers continued making that delicious squelching sound. Those years of torment were beginning to twist. You were beginning to convince yourself that no, it wasn’t so bad, it’s okay to want to cream on his fingers and be his good girl. 

So you nodded, dew-filled eyes stricken with fear meeting his predatory ones in a confirmation. He was building you up so well, your stomach turning over and over, the knot tightening and set to break. And then he pulled his fingers from you as you clenched around nothing, a blinding orgasm ripped from you all by his fingers. Your back arched up off the bed and pathetic whines left your lips. 

“You’ll have to beg for it.” He smirked, sitting back on his knees, discarding your panties with a hard tug and running the head of his cock through your slick while you whimper. “Tell me you like it. C’mon. I’ll let you cum on my cock if you do.” 

Right now you were certain you’d do anything if it meant you were allowed to cream over him, so you parted your lips, hiccuping through broken sobs. 

“P-please Izu, need to cum.” Your voice was low and quiet. 

Izuku pushed the head of his cock against your entrance, glowering down at you as he pushed the fabric of your shirt up over those perfect tits that he couldn’t get enough of. He sucked in a sharp breath, facade falling for a moment until he brought his eyes back to yours. 

“You like it when I’m mean, huh? Lemme hear you say it.” Izuku gave a cruel smile, eyes darkened with lust. 

“Yes! Yes, I like it.” You shout, hand coming up to grab his arm, speaking through desperate tears. “Please fuck me, please Izu.” 

Izuku bottomed out in one fell swoop, hearing all he needed as he throws his head back, a groan of fucking pathetic falling lazily from his lips. He rolled his head across his shoulders, starting to move in and out of you, stretching your cunt open with each push and pull. 

“So fucking tight. You a virgin?” His tongue swiped at his teeth as he relished in the stretch and the way pain wet your cheeks. 

God, he fucking hated you. Hated every part of you. He hated the way your lips looked so good around him, the way your thighs squeezed so nicely around his waist, the way your tears only egged him on. It all made him want to hurt you. You brought out the worst in him. You were too fucking tempting, too easy. 

You weren’t a virgin but the stretch of his cock made you feel like one. God, you could feel him in your throat as you gripped pathetically at his biceps, a plea to get him to slow down. Izuku wouldn’t listen though, pounding into your gummy walls mercilessly. 

“Not gonna answer?” He laughed, low and threatening before folding your knees to your chest. “Tells me all I need to know. How many men have fucked this cunt of yours, huh? Bet it’s more than I can count on one hand.” 

Izuku brought his hand up to your face once more, squeezing your plump cheeks together. 

“Don’t worry, puppy. Gonna make it so you can’t take anyone else.” He spits in your mouth, forcing it closed. “Fuckin’ mine now, yeah? My little whore, always have been, right?”

You screw your eyes shut, swallowing sloppily as spit drips down your chin and tears streak from your eyes. Where did he learn to speak like this? 

“Say it.” 

You’re close again, so full of him, so desperate for him to give you what you want. You can’t resist him, so you might as well submit. Maybe it will make everything easier because you were finding it harder to pretend that you didn’t like it now. 

“Yours, m’yours.” You choke out, hand flying to his large one to move it over your throat. “Belong only to you.” 

Izuku squeezed the sides of your neck with startling force. It’s almost hateful in how strong it was but it made you whine out against him, voice raking against vocal chords that he forced closed. 

“Slut. S-such a slut.” He stuttered as you clenched around him, hitting your high with a roll of your hips and a pathetic whimper. “C’mon, gimme it, puppy.” 

Oh god, the pay off was unbelievable. The way you whined his name was better than any sob he pulled from you to date.You were so helpless,your body wracking with waves of pleasure and your pussy clamping down around him. This is what he saw in you the first time he made you cry— this expression. He knew you could make it, eyes big and wide, filled with tears and your mouth open in a deep moan. Fuck, he loved it. 

“God, so tight. Good puppy, good fucking puppy.” He fucked into you faster, chasing his own high now as he assaulted your overstimulated cunt. 

Your head spun, no longer preoccupied with the taunting or the tormenting. You were stupid on his cock, his good little puppy, like you were meant to be. You should have given in earlier, should have let him shove his dick down your throat sooner because even though you were struggling to get off his fat cock, you couldn’t, and you loved every single second of it. Izuku was only mean to you, only mean to his puppy. 

You’re so overstimulated, barreling towards another orgasm and now all you can think about is how bad you want him to fill you up. 

“C-cum inside.” You managed to choke out between pathetic sobs and whimpers. You’re crying for it, begging. “Please cum inside of me.” 

Izuku let out a low chuckle before bottoming out one final time, shoving his thick fingers down your throat and filling you up. When Izuku came, he came a lot. It flooded your cunt before leaking out the sides where he had you split open. Izuku couldn’t hide his true nature for long, his thighs beginning to quiver and a low groan becoming a high pitched whine as he emptied his balls inside of you like he’d been wanting to for so long. 

He stayed there for a moment before pulling out of you and crouching down to watch the way he spilled out of you, admiring your ruined pussy and body. You’re stretched out from him, tears staining your cheeks and cunt gaping from his cock.

And then he’s biting at your thighs, marking up the inside of your leg as you can barely manage to push out a squeal. He’s leaving the marks he’s always wanted to. Those pinches on the inside of your leg were a stand in for the ones he’d create with his teeth. He nipped at the sensitive skin before dipping his tongue into your folds to collect the mixture of him and you in his mouth. 

Izuku watched the way you twitched as he cleaned you up, admiring the way your legs flinched whenever he ran his tongue over your sensitive clit. He’s much gentler now but his eyes still frightened you when he came up from between your legs to spit the mixture of cum and arousal back into your slightly parted mouth, ordering you to swallow puppy. 

When you finally do— too tired and fucked out to think about protesting, he smiles— standing up off the bed and buttoning his pants with a heaving sigh.

Izuku turned back to your form on the bed, watching the way your chest heaved and the way your pleated skirt crowded at your hips, ruined cunt on display and shirt pushed up over your bitten up breasts. He made a mental note to remember to take your clothes off next time.

tags: @namrekcaivel , @mikaberries , @cleardamage , @veroyktv , @honeyzawa , @erenstellar , @female-titan , @kiyoobi , @pancakesv , @jean-prettyboy-kirschtein , @lazyezstudy , @jeanbabygirl , @peachysimp , @kirsteiiins , @babybottlepop96 , @ayannamika , @fiaficsxo , @chittaphon96​ 

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[starsthatlinethesky]

Magic Au for the boys (yes this is due to me the school for good and evil movie watching today):

. Finney’s a witch and mainly takes jobs that involve healing/ He can also fly on a broomstick

. Griffin’s a shapeshifter who uses this skill to collect information

. Bruce is a prince/ the boys all work in Bruce’s castle

. Vance is Bruce’s bodyguard

. Robin is a knight but along the way sort of becomes Finney’s bodyguard

. Billy is an assistant around the castle and often actually collects information within the castle because he works with everyone

. The kingdom is pretty much perfect, everyone works together and all the citizens can come to the castle and speak with the royals over things in the kingdom. The people are kind to each other as there is almost no reason for conflict

. The plot would be a dark sorcerer (guess who) places a curse over the kingdom something along the lines that all the people of the kingdom will grow to have ‘hardened hearts’ people will grow to be mean and cruel no matter what the situation is

. The boys go on a quest to undo the curse all while trying to deal with the effects of the curse

. Some places are accepting of witches and others aren’t / Finney owns a cursed necklace that prevents a person from doing magic if they wear it, his father forced his mother to wear it and the rules are you can’t remove the necklace yourself it has to be the person who put it on you

. Finney although he specialises in healing, also knows attack and defence spells, he’s also the kingdoms best chance at undoing the curse. However Finney is hesitant to mess with undoing a curse because that’s what drove his mother to madness and to her death

. Gwen is a psychic

. Each of the boys would have a moment where the curse takes over and the others have to pull them back from it.

. Vance’s moment would be when they were taking a break and he and Robin decide to have sparing practice, it’s going fine till Robin gets a good hit in, witch usually wouldn’t cause problems but with the curse Vance loses it. He starts chasing Robin through the woods and Bruce is the one who snaps him out of it by actually landing a hit against Vance which surprises Vance so much he snaps out of it “what the fuck Bruce, your form is all wrong I know I taught you better then this.”

. Bruce’s moment comes after an argument everyone has, they’re all cold and lost and have no idea what to do and you know arguments happen, but unlike Vance, Bruce doesn’t get physical he gets verbal with his cruelty. It takes a moment for them to all put it together, but once they do Vance makes a snowball while Bruce is still talking and throws it in his face. It snaps Bruce out of it and they all end up having a snowball fight which brings an end to the argument

. Billy’s moment comes after an encounter with the sorcerer who whispered things about how he was just a tag along. He and Griffin get into a fight and Billy is about to make it physical, but then Griffin grabs his hands and starts spinning him around and dancing. It pulls Billy out of it and Griffin’s poorly attempting to sing Billy’s favourite song

. Griffin’s moment comes after they’re attacked by bandits, one of the bandits ends up strangling Billy and Griffin loses it he starts shape shifting into scarier and scarier things , but the things that pulls him back is Billy hugging him and saying “I’m safe.”

. Robin’s moment, actually happens with Finney. He and Finney go off from the group to collect some herbs or something for a spell, and their just having their usual banter when Finney makes a joke about Robin not being able to fight. They make these jokes all the time but it gets under Robin’s skin for some reason today. So when Finney is distracted picking up herbs he attacks him, the two tumble around and Finney doesn’t want to hurt Robin so instead of attacking him he lies down and Robins pinning him down with his sword raised and just as he’s about to bring it down Finney goes “Robin, it’s me’” Robin drops the sword right after that.

. Finney has the scariest moment out of everyone, he’s attempting to cast a spell that would find the sorcerers exact location, which in a way requires him to get in the sorcerer’s head. You can imagine that it is a two way street though which means the sorcerer is also in Finney’s head and he keeps seeing how his mom went and he gets flashes of the others dying or dead. Finney just losses all control of his magic, lighting is flying everywhere, his eyes are glowing way to bright and he keeps floating higher and higher. While dodging spells Robin gets a hold of the necklace and Finney’s broom and very clunky makes his way up to Finney, but instead of Robin forcing the necklace on Finney, Robin hold it out to him. It’s Finney’s choice wether or not he puts it on. “Finn, you don’t have to put it on. I’m not going to make you put it on, but can you please come back to me.” Finney with shaking hands takes the necklace, but he doesn’t put it on instead his magic just comes to a stop. He loses consciousness and thankfully Robins there to catch him.

[2af-afterdark]

Memories Beyond Our Grasp

Rating: Mature

Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply

Category: GN/M

Fandom: Tears of Themis

Relationships: Artem Wing/MC

Characters: Artem Wing, GN!MC

Additional Tags: GN!MC (you/your), vampires, dubious consent, blood drinking, vampiric control

Summary: There’s a client that shows up all the time, taking others away. When they come back, they look to be completely in bliss. You’ve had enough.

A/N: There is no explanation for this one. I just wanted to.

Word Count: 1739

You're a bartender, always making drinks and dealing with the endless slew of drunks. Most of them are polite enough since this is a classy bar, but there is one patron in particular that always catches your eye. Brown hair, jewel-blue eyes, well-cut jawline, always in a suit. He always orders the good vodka and rum, but you swear the level in his glass never changes and something about looking at him makes the back of your head hurt.

He looks well put together, like a gentleman, but he's a cad the same as any other. Every day he comes in, you know he's going to end up walking away with someone on his arm; usually in the direction of the restrooms. When they come back, he's just as well put together as ever, but they look like a disheveled mess. It drives you crazy but also makes you insanely jealous. They come back looking so satisfied and barely walking straight and you wonder how well he must be fucking them to leave everyone looking like that. But that is nothing compared to your annoyance at knowing you're going to have to clean up any mess he makes later.

One day, you see him taking someone toward the bathrooms while on your break and you've decided that you've had enough. You let him go into the bathroom with his latest conquest on his arm and wait a few minutes until you're sure they are in a compromising position. Then you barge into the bathroom, practically kicking in the door.

"Get a hotel room if you're going to-"

You can't finish the sentence. The sight that greets you is definitely not what you were expecting. His mouth is sucking at their neck as they lean against the wall, blood coating his lips as they moan beneath him and desperately bury their hands in his hair.

His blue eyes flash at you once he realizes that he's been interrupted. He pulls his fangs away from their neck, letting them go limp and slip into the floor while their eyes glaze over and he stands up straight to draw closer to you.

"Hello there." His voice is like melted chocolate as he speaks, "You're early."

You take a single step back, swallowing hard in your throat, "Sorry. I didn't think- I'll give you some privacy."

You try to turn to leave, but his hands are on you quickly, jerking your head back in his direction by your chin. He forces you to look up at him, "No no. You can stay. I insist."

His eyes flash red and you can feel your legs go weak beneath you. Your pulse quickens and everything suddenly feels warm.

He snaps his fingers and the other person suddenly seems alert, but overlooks the sight of you and him, "You can go back. You don't feel nauseous anymore."

They don't protest, only standing and quickly walking toward the door as if his word was law. It was like watching a zombie go about its businesses.

His hand, still holding onto your chin for control, pulls your face closer to his until you are barely a hair apart once the person is long gone, "It's a bit early, but I could use something sweet for dessert."

The way he presses his lips against yours is so gentle, like he's making sure the fangs that were just buried in that other person's neck don't cut you. Your moan is completely involuntary, along with the way you lean into the kiss almost instinctively.

"Artem..." His name tumbles out as he pulls away to let you breathe and you wonder how you knew it so readily. It must have been from how often you ran his card through the system when he paid for his drinks.

The breathy way you call out his name has his mouth on yours again almost instantly. Meanwhile, his arms are wrapping around you, pulling you close until you are flush against him and able to feel the bulge forming in his pants pressing against your own sex longingly.

"I know," he mutters against your lips before pulling away again, leaving you whimpering for his return. The sides of his mouth curl up into a smile as his red eyes blink again, "Do what comes naturally. I'm yours."

Something inside of you snapped, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt and slamming him against the bathroom wall. You knew he was stronger than you, but he let you do it anyway; like he wanted you to. You couldn't explain exactly why, but your body was crying out for you to do this.

You stand in such a way that his thigh rests between your legs and you begin to grind down onto him, letting all the heat in your body gather to one spot. It feels strange but also right to be rubbing yourself against him. Even more so right as he starts to unbutton the top of your shirt so he can leave your neck exposed.

His hand reaches onto your pants, brushing against your hot sex just so he can hear you moan for him again. It was like he knew your body already, his fingers attacking every spot that made you want to hold onto him and never let go.

As he worked, something deep inside of you felt like you should remember this. It was like being touched by a lover for the millionth time. Images danced in your mind of places far away, his hot mouth against yours, and hands exploring every inch of your body; screaming his name for all the world to hear as he wrapped your legs around his waist and buried himself deep inside of you; your name on his lips as he held you down and made love to you with desperation.

There were a thousand first meetings playing over and over again in your head, like a movie script that was constantly being rewritten; each time acted out by you and him. There were enough awkward first dates to make any rational person blush and enough quiet nights to fill a novel with zero rising tension or drama. Sometimes that peace lasted months, sometimes only days.

But there were also memories of finding out things you shouldn't have. Memories of each time you'd walked in on him feeding or he'd gotten too frisky and tried to take a bite out of you; of you either screaming in terror at finding out what he was or holding onto him and telling him you'd accept him no matter what. The entire story was a contradiction.

More than anything, however, was the repeating memory of him staring you in the eyes and telling you that he loved you before waking up not even being able to recall his name or face. It always made your heart hurt after the fact and you had to walk around wondering why.

"How do you like it?" he asks.

"So good," you mutter between breaths, leaning into him as you seek out more. Your instincts should have been telling you to run, but instead you bore your neck to him, trembling as he brought you to your peak.

His fangs sink into your neck, pushing you over the edge and forcing you to cum against the fingers still working against you. Your mind fills with fog and haze, the world spinning around you in that blissful way that tells you that you couldn't cum again if you wanted. Even with just his hand, he had ruined you. There was no pleasure in this world that could supersede what he gave you.

Artem kept you from falling as your orgasm turned your legs into jelly, making sure you never left his arms for a single moment.

"You remember, don't you?" He asks, his eyes peering down at you as they swirled with power.

You nod as you face toward the ground, afraid of what you know will come next should you look up at him.

He wasn't giving you a choice in the matter, however. He grabs your chin and gently guides your gaze toward him, finally seeing the infinite sadness of endless goodbyes that shimmered in your eyes.

"Artem, I don't want to forget." There were tears in your eyes as he held you in place, hesitation swirling as his gaze shifted from red to blue and back again.

"I'm sorry." There were some things humans just couldn't know, no matter how much either of you wanted to.

He could change you. He could make you like him and keep you by his side for the rest of eternity, but you deserved a human life. You deserved to see the sun and walk among your friends; you deserved not to live in fear of being discovered and running for your life; you deserved all the happiness in the world, and he knew he couldn't offer more than just a fleeting moment you would come to regret.

"I love you." He never wants you to forget that one fact, even though he knows you will.

Artem kisses your forehead as he finishes fixing your shirt and putting you back together until you are immaculate, "You were dealing with a guest that got sick in the bathroom. Artem Wing is just another face in the crowd who you don't know."

He wished you would settle back into your normal life and never approach him again, but he also longed for the next first meeting you would both have. He wanted to see how long your relationship would last before you discovered what he was and he had to send you back without even the memory of him. Sometimes he thought about avoiding the places he knew you would visit, but he couldn't live without at least seeing you; even though seeing you meant you would inevitably approach him and start the cycle again.

----

You're a bartender, always making drinks and dealing with the endless slew of drunks. Most of them are polite enough since this is a classy bar, but there is one patron in particular that always catches your eye. Brown hair, well-cut jawline, always in a suit. He always orders the good vodka and rum, but you swear the level in his glass never changes and something about looking at him makes your heart hurt but you can't understand why.

[cl-01-kestis]

Held Hostage

Dismay - Grand Admiral Thrawn x Female Rebel!Reader | Part 13

Summary: After making a swift recovery from the ship wreckage, you find yourself taken off world and registered for interrogation. Until then, Omani works her magic to tell her father everything in hopes of saving you.

Warnings: injury description, angst, reader and Kallus end their friendship

Guess who? Yesss finally an update!! I want to apologise for the long wait between part 12 and 13, I haven’t had time to come back to this story mostly because of writers block and planning plot. I hope you enjoy!! Some parts of this are messy, and I didn’t pay too much attention to detail so I also apologise in advance

(I’m creating a tag list for this series to please let me know if you want to be included for future instalments!!)

The events that took place a few weeks ago had destabilised you momentarily. You made a short recovery, only lasting a week, but you still had a lot of healing to do with your lungs. You were prescript to use an inhaler as well as a wireless cannula which sat under your nose 24/7, thanks to the advanced technology on Yavin. But apart from that, any scratches or bruises had healed.

It took you a bit of time to regain your footing, you tumbled a bit the first time you tried to walk again but thankfully Omani was there to support you. As well as Kallus, who was relieved to see you were alright. Things seemed to be rigid between you though, especially after that whole kiss fiasco. But either way, he was glad you were alive.

There were rumours spreading around the base; rumours of you and the Grand Admiral. As you expected, there was images floating around; clear evidence of you attending the Imperial Gala around the holo-web. A lot of people were asking who you were and why a New Republic Politician was attending an Imperial party. You excused every question thrown at you from visitors in your ward, you didn’t want to deal with anything just yet. Not when you were just out of recovery.

Omani was by your side during your coma, as well as all the surgeries and check ups. She helped you settle into your old home back inside the base, she even made a cake which read ‘Glad you’re back, Tiscen’i’ in bright blue letters, followed by a messily drawn heart. She said that Ezra Bridger assisted her, which did draw a bit of curiosity out of you as a bit of purple illuminated her cheeks.

As for Thrawn, you thought of him but didn’t speak a word to Omani. You were worried about how he was feeling, about the whole ship wreck and the fact you literally died. You can’t remember ever saying goodbye to him, which is the one thing that made you feel most guilty. You poured your heart out to him, and he poured his heart out to you, but neither of you really said farewell before the attack finished. Did he escape? Was he alright? Was he angry? All your questions were about to be answered. But not in the way you wanted them to be.

You were escorted to a facility on a planet called Takodana. You knew why you were being sent away, you were now seen as a threat by the New Republic for what you did and who you were in contact with. Everyone seemed to be angry with you because you didn’t put a bullet through your lovers skull; the man that was causing them so much chaos.

You sat inside a prison chamber, hands bound and back pressed up against the wall which faced the bars. You felt like you were inside the imperial prison again, with Pryce screaming in your face before Thrawn showed up and whisked you away to a safe haven. How you wished that would happen now, if only it were him and not your own best friend who faced you through the bars. Kallus.

“You need to understand, we’re doing this to protect you,” He insisted with a frown, hands crossed firmly over his chest as he glared at you. You weren’t convinced.

“If you want to protect me, why am I in a prison cell with my wrists tied?” You hissed, shifting a foot and aiming it at the bars before giving it a harsh kick, causing Kallus to flinch back.

“You came into contact with an enemy, the enemy, and didn’t bother consulting the Senate before your actions, this makes you a threat in their eyes,” he replied.

“So you’re not protecting me, you’re just protecting your reputation,” You sigh, resting your head on your shoulder and coughing slightly as you swallowed the lump in your throat.

“Am I even going to get the inhaler and treatment I need? If you’re going to interrogate me you might as well keep me alive,” You chuckled to yourself bitterly, hands scratching your knees out of boredom. You weren’t sure what to physically do with yourself.

“You’ll be supplied with an inhaler soon, but you will be sedated to prevent any escaping,” Kallus answered your question sharply.

“Fantastic, and what about my daughter?” Your question rose another sigh out of the man standing opposite you.

“She’s under interrogation, everyone now thinks she has something to do with Thrawn, your secret is no longer safe,” Kallus looked pitiful towards you, but the last thing you wanted was his sympathy. He was supposed to be your friend, someone you thought you confided in before and after you left the Empire. He was the only person you knew for so long who you considered a friend. Now he was just a rebel.

“If they so much as touch her… I’ll kill them,” Your tone turned deadly, holding no sense of humour or casualness. Kallus stared at you with wide eyes for a brief second, looking almost astounded by your comment.

“You sound like your old self, the woman who was so cold and numb to death and killing people to get the job done… don’t let hate blind your senses, you’re better than that,” Kallus raised his voice more and more but he didn’t yell, not when others were near and possibly listening. You didn’t look at him, all you saw was red. You had reasoning for your daughters protection, for years you were the one to provide her with that, and now she has none of it. Not even Thrawn can help.

“If it means protecting my daughter, you’re damn right I’ll become that woman again,” You didn’t blink as your eyes met his, you didn’t even try and made it seem more awkward for him.

“Don’t try and relate to me Kallus, you may have known me during our time in the Empire but you’ll never understand my devotion to my family. Yes I killed, tortured and maimed many people, but that’s nothing compared to what I’ll do if I find out she’s hurt, don’t think I’m incapable” Your words were filled with poison, and your glare almost burned two holes into Kallus’ head. He stood in shock, unable to recognise the woman he knew from a few weeks ago. He didn’t respond, he only looked upon you with a saddened expression before turning on his heel and making his exit.

You were relieved he left, you weren’t sure how much longer you would talk until you’d start threatening him. It was instinctive, especially when it came to Omani. She was the only person supporting you right now. Thrawn believed you to be dead, and you could only imagine the damage he’s inflicted on the New Republic out of rage and revenge. They were the ones who caused the wreckage in the first place, they were the ones who took you away from him once more. So of course you had a reason to be angry towards them; your own people.

You knew becoming their enemy was bad, because you wouldn’t stand a chance on your own outside of the Rebel Alliance, you would wind up dead in a cantina somewhere due to a disagreement with strangers, or even worse, bounty hunters. You could only imagine what the Rebellion’s plan was for you, they’d keep you locked up and probably assassinate you for becoming an ally to the enemy. Or maybe they would let you go, or even hand you over to the Empire. You wonder if they would do the same to your daughter, you knew for a fact Thrawn would cause much more damage than you if he found out how they were treating her, especially now that everyone knew she was related to him in some kind of way. You knew the secret would come out at some point, but you didn’t expect it to be so sudden.

Omani was barely an adult and she had her own platoon of rebels, now that was all taken away from her, all because of her heritage. All because you fell in love with one of the Empire’s most feared.

You were dreading this interrogation, you were fearing for your life. You knew how these interrogations worked, they would poke and prod around you until they would eventually start electrocuting you if you wouldn’t talk. And if you still wouldn’t talk, it was either death due to exhaustion or going completely numb and forced to stay longer inside a cell. Or maybe they would simply ask you questions without any malicious torture device, maybe the rebels were still trying to strive towards a cleaner and more happier galaxy. You hoped.

-

Omani sat alone in the interrogation room, eyes fully focused ahead of her as she felt her hands twitch uncomfortably in the handcuffs that bound them together. She was relieved to see there were no robots or interrogation devices in the room, she had been lectured by you about the kind of things to prepare herself for if she were ever to get captured by the Empire. But in this case, it was her own people.

She looked with a blank stare, no emotion past her bright scarlet eyes as she turned her attention to Kallus sitting in the chair opposite her.

“We’re going to start this off with some simple questions, it would be most preferred if you could cooperate,” He nodded to the mirror, an obvious sign that someone started recording the upcoming conversation that was yet to happen.

“Get on with it,” Omani scoffed, fiddling with the handcuffs and figuring out mentally if there was any way she could break out of them.

“Omani, you’re well aware of the position you and your mother are currently in, and talking would help us get a better understanding of the full situation,” Kallus began, clearing his throat to clear the tension as the Chiss female stared him down. She certainly had her fathers thunderous glare.

“Are you, or are you not, related to Grand Admiral Thrawn?”

“I thought you said we were starting out simple with the questions?” She clenched her hands into fists, face hardening as Kallus narrowed his gaze and inwardly sighed. He said nothing, and Omani knew it would be her to speak first. She rolled her eyes and fidgeted with her hands.

“My full name is Mitth’ormani’zorva, I’m a direct descendant from that family” She murmured.

“That doesn’t answer the question,” Kallus frowned.

“He’s my father,” Omani said with a stern voice, irritation starting to rise within her more and more as time went on. “There, are you happy?”

Kallus swept by her sharp tongue and looked down at the papers in front of him. He cleared his throat once again.

“And can you explain your mother’s relationship with your father?”

“I’m afraid I don’t know the answer to that one, she never really told me,” Omani told nothing but the truth and Kallus couldn’t help but believe her. He heard you tell him before that Omani never really knew your stance with her father, she only assumed you were together because you produced her.

“Then I’ll move that question to her interrogation,” Kallus scribbled a line over the question on the paper.

“Do you know your fathers whereabouts?” The blonde man looked back up at Omani and was met with a distrusted glare. She sneered, eyebrows furrowed and mouth twisted into a displeased frown.

“Even if I knew, I wouldn’t tell you,” She took her hands off from the desk separating them both and placed them safely on her lap, in an attempt to distance herself.

“And why’s that? You do realise your father is in charge of most of our destruction and loss,” Kallus raised a brow, holding the pen idly in his hand as he watched the young Chiss female.

“I don’t care, Kallus, he’s still my father and he protected me and my mother when we were in trouble, it’s only fair that I do the same” She made an attempt to slip her hands through the restraints but it was no use. If anything, it felt as though they had tightened.

“What makes you think that defending him, a war criminal, is better than defending your own people?” Kallus interjected with a loud voice, his frown deepening as he peered judgementally at the Chiss woman.

“Family is everything for Chiss, we value our blood more than we value anything else in the galaxy, what makes you think I’d throw that away? Over a war? I’m not choosing sides and I certainly don’t support the Empire, but I support him,” Omani answered, her voice growing louder the more she spoke.

“You used to work for the Empire, Kallus. You used to torture and maim people and think it was the right thing to do, what makes you any different from my father?” She inquired.

“Because your father cannot see the truth and continues to cause havoc everywhere he goes, if anything, he refuses to see that what he’s doing is wrong,” He slammed his hand onto the table and startled Omani abruptly. Her glare burned into Kallus’ skull and for a second he thought it was Thrawn looking at him. Their appearances were near identical, he had flashbacks of the days Thrawn would scold him for failing missions, and facing Omani was no different.

This was going to take longer than expected.

-

Omani was escorted to a different room with steam coming off her, she was so angry. She never wanted to punch someone so badly, never mind insult or yell at them. Throughout the entire interrogation, she kept her composure and didn’t lash out or make a scene. That was beneath her.

The room she was placed in seemed to be a communication room. Her comm device was on one of the shelves near the door, but one of her hands was cuffed to the leg of a table with all kinds of computers atop of it, making it near impossible for her to move. She groaned quietly, wondering if there was any way she could move the table without making much noise.

Omani needed to get that comm device, and she needed a way to contact Thrawn. Fast. She felt that her dad was the only person who could really help in this situation, considering she didn’t trust anyone else. The ghost crew weren’t available, and Kallus was no longer a friend. Ezra Bridger gave her his number, but not exactly for this scenario. She had no other choice.

The young Chiss woman tried to slip down the seat, stretching her leg as far as it could go and trying to reach the device with her heel. But with no avail, she cursed in her native tongue and gave it another few tries. She barely scuffed the edge of the shelf, and her muscles eventually began to ache.

Omani stood up from her seat, turning to the table she was attached to and very gently picking up equipment from the pile on the surface. She had to get moving somehow, and she only needed to remove a few things so she could move the table along, just enough to reach the device. The equipment was heavy, and she could only pick it up with one hand because the other was restricted by the cuffs.

Eventually, she could move the table and make little noise. She had to make sure the legs didn’t scrape loudly against the floor, or else someone would come in to check on her. She had to be cautious.

Omani very carefully shuffled along the ground, gently dragging the table with her. She winced every time it got a little loud, but proceeded with her plan regardless.

She strained as she reached for the shelf, successfully grabbed her comm device and immediately turning it on. It started up and the screen illuminated blue, before the letters popped up out of the device and hovered above her wrist.

From that point onward, she wasn’t sure what to do. How could she contact Thrawn if she didn’t know how contact details? Maybe she could find an official number on the holoweb and go on from there. Every official imperial had a professional number, right?

After she searched her fathers name into the holoweb, multiple news articles popped up about his recent behaviour on the war. She didn’t read them, she couldn’t have her opinion knocked down now. Omani just needed his help, she didn’t have time to think about his actions or opinions.

She looked at his details, hacking into a private server, with some training she received as a child, and spotted an imperial number which seemed to direct her to an ominous phone line after she clicked on it. She held her breath sharply, heart beating rapidly in her chest as she sat quietly on one side of the phone line. Omani patiently waited for some kind of greeting, eagerly chewing on her nails impatiently.

“You have dialled the personal number of Admiral Thrawn, state your business and the reason for your call” A robotic voice spoke on the end of the phone, Omani believed it to be a service droid of some kind.

“My name is Omani, can you please tell Thrawn I asked for him? Please, I’m a close relative” She didn’t say anything else, nothing more to give away personal details. The droid was silent for a few moments, but she could hear the machinery in its legs move. She wondered if it was going to Thrawn.

“He will be with you shortly” Jackpot.

Omani sat in anticipation, barely able to stay still with nerves as she continued chewing her nails and damaging the skin, too occupied to care. The line was quiet for too long, and she found herself feeling rather claustrophobic. The walls felt as though they were caving in, and it didn’t help that she was in such a small dull room. Her mouth went dry, and she couldn’t move her tongue since it was stuck to the roof of her mouth.

But eventually, the line picked up at last.

“Omani?” His tone was so full of concern and confusion, but she sighed in relief as she heard her fathers voice.

“Tisci, thank the maker, I didn’t think you’d pick up” She felt a sob bubble up in her throat, but she swallowed it down and focused on getting the message across to Thrawn.

“What’s happening? Is everything alright?” Thrawn couldn’t have sounded more stern, barely having spoke to her but already so protective. Thrawn never had a full conversation or even a greeting with his daughter, so he was happy, but terribly worried for the reason of her calling him.

“You need to help us, Tiscen’i and I are in trouble” Omani done her best not to yell, worried in case any rebels were nearby.

“Your mother? I thought she-“

“No, she was in a coma for a while and has almost had a full recovery, but the rebellion have us imprisoned” The Chiss woman knew her father wasn’t aware of her mothers survival, she expected a long pause from his side of the line, and that’s exactly what she got.

It took Thrawn a good minute to process that you were, in fact, very much alive and healthy, and it took all his strength not to burst into tears. His chest hurt and his vision went blurry, thank the maker, you were alive.

“The rebellion have you imprisoned? What do you mean?” He took a while to answer back, voice cracked a little as he spoke, but neither of them cared to mention it.

“They found out about Tiscen’i attending that imperial ball, they believe she’s been conspiring with the Empire, and specifically you” Omani kept her voice quiet when she heard footsteps in the distance, although they weren’t approaching her destination.

“I’m scared for her safety, Tisci, I need your help,” The young woman’s breath caught in her throat and she swallowed down a cry, controlling her breathing before a panic attack occurred. “We’re on Takodana, I’ll send you my coordinates” She tapped into her holo device on her wrist and sent the exact coordinates of her position to whatever device he was using. Thrawn received them a few seconds later, barely able to register anything his daughter was desperately telling him.

He was overwhelmed.

“Takodana? I can’t say I’ve heard of that planet before” Thrawn inquired seemingly to himself after he wrote down Omani’s coordinates.

“There’s a rebel base camp, it would be best if you didn’t bring an entire imperial fleet with you” Omani allowed herself to chuckle, and it made her father smile just for a split second.

“I’ll try my best, but I can’t guarantee anything Omani, I don’t want the Empire knowing about this” His tone was stern, he needed to keep his personal life split from the Empire because he didn’t want his family involved in any way.

“Please just do something, Kallus and everyone else is against Tiscen’i, she’s got no one” Despair laced itself in Omani’s voice and she struggled holding back her emotions.

“Okay, I’ll see what I can do” Thrawn sighed.

“I have to go,” Omani whispered after she heard footsteps approaching the communication room. “Talk soon” And with that, she hung up at the speed of light, the door opening a few seconds after. It was an average rebel coming in to check on her, oblivious to the device around her wrist as she hid it unsuspectingly by folding her arms across her chest. She glared up at the rebel, and watched as he turned around and left the room, comming Kallus or some other higher up on the base to tell them her status.

Little did they know, trouble was on the way.

[chiwhorei]

𝐀𝐯𝐢𝐥𝐚

✞𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐁𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐞𝐬: 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐂𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐜 𝐈𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧✞

Pairing: Shouta Aizawa x Fem!Reader

Genre: Smut, Dark Content, 18+ MDNI

Word Count: 3,175 [Link to Ao3]

Tags: Darkfic, sacrelige, coercion, corruption, dubcon and noncon elements, intonations and parallels to incest, but not actual incest (ie. ‘Father’ Shouta), choking, age-gap, oral, Priest!Aizawa, Virgin!Reader

From Chiwhorei: Aizawa is where this all started, so it’s fitting he is the subject of my anniversary fic. To everyone who’s followed me along this journey despite the long bouts of radio silence, to everyone that’s participated and supported this collab, to all of my lovely, devious friends— truly, completely, thank you for this past year. Xoxo.

The pain was so sharp that it made me utter several moans; and so excessive was the sweetness caused me by this intense pain that one can never wish to lose it, nor will one’s soul be content with anything less than God.

** ** **

There’s not a soul awake this late.

The rosary wrapped between twitching fingers feels like a hot lashing against the skin. The glass and metal itch in your hold, the devotional was a gift for your confirmation-- it holds a decade of sins.

Your family has been asleep for hours now. Slipping through the back door as soon as you’re sure. Nineteen. A legal adult. Yet the only way to leave in the middle of the night is in secret. The cool, summer air hits your cheeks, it’s still for a moment. It’s so quiet, you feel like you’ve mistaken the real world for a snow globe. Static— in the moments after all of the glitter settles, all of the quiet, iridescent tears laying at your feet. It waits, patiently, until someone comes by to shake it again.

Moving into a cramped dorm room a few hours away, your childhood home feels bigger every visit. It’s bigger because nothing fills the space inside. There’s nothing but tense words and the clatter of silverware against dinner plates. Your father reminds you of an old briefcase— stern, rigid leather, unmistakably empty; your mother’s rose garden smells like poisoned wine.

Roses and leather, the combination suffocating enough to repel you in the hours you should be unconscious.

The walk from your parent’s house to the church is the most familiar thing in the world. Down to the cracks on the sidewalk and mossy steps leading up to a set of large, cherry doors. So routine it almost feels good for you.

There’s not a soul awake this late, you decide, that must be why you’re here.

That must be why he’s up too.

Pushing open one ornate door just enough to peek inside, you’re met with that distinct waft of incense and dusty missals. It smells like every Sunday morning and Easter Vigil, it smells like home.

Only votive candles light the space around you, flickering with intentions from fellow parishioners. You wonder if there’s one burning for you.

You know where to find Father Shouta, and suspect he’s waiting. He can trace every step from your parents home to the front gate. You open the confessional booth and crawl inside, the wooden space around you is cramped. It smells like incense masking cigarettes. Kneeling into the leather cushion, you face the screen partition.

“Forgive me Father, for I have sinned. My last confession was,” the memory has you falter, “three months ago.”

You remember the last hollow confession like it was yesterday. You were back in town for spring break. After mass that Sunday, your dad told Father Shouta how deplorable it was that your friends had tried, in vain, to drag you to the beach a few hours away from campus. “A week of drinking and sex, not for my daughter.”

Shouta met with you that evening and you cried your sins to him. How you had been dared to kiss boys at a party during midterms week, how you drank who-knows-what mixed with cheap beer at a frat house. He consoled you then, he told you that God will forgive all transgressions. “Even the sins of a whore.”

The memory makes you want to cry all over again. Yet, here you are— knees pressed to the very same leather, face against the same dusty screen.

He’s so still, so quiet, you jump out of your skin at the sound of his voice, “What is it that you’d like to confess, my child?”

Your body aches, stiff and tense to the bone. You breathe in, shallow and suffocated, before you speak again.

“Father, forgive me I—” you can tell his posture is just as rigid, he’s only a shadowed outline and the slightest glimmer of color from his eyes. They warn you, but you ignore the familiar feeling on the back of your neck.

“I have been having impure thoughts. I’ve been thinking about a man,” one more deep breath in an attempt to keep your voice neutral, “a much older man.”

If you could hear a smile, Father’s creaks like floorboards.

His silence prompts you to continue, you knot your fingers together and hold them against your stomach, the Rosary tangled in between threatening to cut off circulation.

“The boys in my youth group, the ones in my classes— they’re all nice but,” you leave the second half of the sentence to rattle around in your mind, “but they aren’t you.”

“Impure thoughts are one thing, sinful, but,” his voice is indifferent, cold, “the true sins are ones of the flesh.”

“I- I haven’t,” you start to stutter, trying to defend yourself, “I haven’t done anything, Father.”

Despite himself, he laughs.

“It’s true Father,” you wonder why you hadn’t just stayed at home, “I’ve only ever kissed a boy— it wasn’t even a real kiss. I’m still a virgin.”

From the screen, you can only see him in fragments. Little cutouts of a dark figure and sickeningly bright red eyes. The color peaks through like pieces of a puzzle, chasing through the patterned wood before you can catch that he’s stepping out of his side of the confessional booth.

“It wasn’t a ‘real’ kiss,” each word is mimicked, emphasized by the tap of his shoes against the tiles below, “no, of course it wasn’t. Not with some boy.” Your legs are unsteady as you stand from the kneeler. There’s nowhere to hide, Father has you trapped in a toy box. Just for him to play with.

“Of course that wouldn’t have satisfied you.”

The door to your side of the booth creeks open just as your back hits the wall. You can see his face for the first time in months, you trace the features illuminated with candlelight. Father Shouta’s face is strong, even more sharp with his long, black hair tied back. His presence looms over where you’re sunken into the booth. Even standing and puffing out your chest, he’ll still be able to look down at you.

He bares his teeth. You know this by now, stupid little girl, you know he likes to play with his food.

Long fingers grip the small door frame and curl around the wood like an omen, his body slithers into your personal space until he’s only an inch away.

“Lust, greed, what is it that you want?” Each vowel cradles a hearty dose of poison, the consonants bite away and spit you out. Your skin feels raw under his attention, “You can’t atone for sins you’re not really sorry for.”

Those same fingers slide up either curve of your neck, he crawls from shoulder to jaw, slowly. So slowly it seems like he’s trying not to get caught. He holds steady against your skin, thumb rubbing lightly at your bottom lip. You must have just fallen asleep after your parents went to bed, that stale, poisoned house even lulling the restless. You must be dreaming right now.

“Don’t make me ask again.” His timber hits the three walls and brings you back to the present. There’s no rest for you, only a weak answer to his question. What is it that you want?

“I want to be a humble servant of our Lord.” Your voice shakes, battered against your throat on its way to meet the stiff air.

Father’s lips are on you, he traces the words of Luke over your trembling mouth, there’s only a breath of space between you,

“No one can serve two masters. For you will hate one and love the other; you will be devoted to one and despise the other,”

The hands holding your cheeks move down to circle your neck, each long finger lays a trap. He tightens around the skin, just enough to make you forget how it feels to breathe freely. He could do anything to you right now, and your cries for help would be swallowed by stained glass.

No one can serve two masters.

The scream caught in your throat meets his wicked smile, it fizzles into little more than a whimper. The small booth you’ve been trapped in is burning hot, you feel sweat beading on your forehead. The last ounce of courage, of restraint, tumbles out before you can catch it.

“Who do you serve, Father Shouta? God or the Devil?”

He answers you with a thick tongue finally pushing into your mouth. He smells like perfumed oils and votive candles, he tastes like sugar free gum and Seven Stars.

His grip around your neck is the only thing keeping you on your feet, you’re sure if he were to let go you’d melt into the floor below. Father’s lips against yours are a siren, dulling all other senses, rendering you malleable to his will. Whatever his will may be, whatever it is that he wants from you— you’d let him have it anyway.

He breaks away, the kiss that’s felt like hours disappears far too soon. Your body jolts forward of its own volition, trying to connect yourself to him again. You’re sure you look desperate, but you’re too intoxicated to care.

“I serve only myself.”

Father lets go of your neck and you’re allowed the first deep intake of breath you’ve had since walking into the church. You swallow hard, looking back up to him. He scares you, he always has, but that fear draws you towards him.

Does a moth know what the flame will do to it? Does the moth know their fate?

You feel like crying, really crying, but all that comes out are a few frustrated tears. Father leans over you once more, eyes trailing the tear waxing over your cheek, “You’re a wretched little girl.”

Is that why they fly towards fire, because they like the burn?

** ** **

You step forward in line, it’s almost your turn. Mother first, she’s always thought of Father Aizawa as such a “charming young man''. The notion always made you scoff, in reality he’s only a few years younger than your parents.

Your dad is behind you, he’ll give him a friendly handshake after the service and remark how beautiful the homily was. Today, he spoke of the devil tempting Jesus. You hung on every word.

Mother steps aside and makes the sign of the cross, you’re next. A sheep guided by the dutiful shepherd, a lamb onto his slaughter.

Your chin tilts upwards, eyes locked onto your part-time captor. He only has you for a few seconds this time, but his attention is a hallway— every door is a pitfall. Aizawa’s gaze turns red when he looks upon you again— a bright, bloody, captivating red. You’ve convinced yourself it’s a trick of the light. But you see them in the dark too.

“The Body of Christ,” his voice is a welcome mat in front of an asylum, holding out the wafer and obscuring one painfully beautiful eye.

“Amen.” You know you’re part, but you can’t hear your own voice.

Father watches as your eyes close and your mouth opens, a quiet obedience, nothing at all out of the ordinary. Your fingers tingle with how tight you’re holding them together.

He places the Body to your awaiting tongue. It tastes like a harsh nothing that will stick to the back of your throat for the rest of mass. You take Christ in pieces, letting it start to melt into the roof of your mouth.

Shouta brushes your bottom lip before retracting. It’s subtle, an accident— the smallest touch of chilling skin. No one notices, the earth doesn’t stop on its axis for anyone else. You step aside and follow your Mother back to the wooden pews like nothing out of the ordinary stirs in your heart.

You feel Father’s eyes on the back of your skirt. They feel red.

“Your sweet girl here has offered a helping hand getting prepared for a youth retreat the church is hosting next week.” After mass, the stop to shake Father’s hand is inevitable, a pleasantry every parishioner makes time for before shuffling out for Sunday brunch.

He speaks over your quiet, “Good morning, Father Shouta,” right as your family turns to leave, almost as if he had been mulling over whether or not it was worth a mention. He regards them with a veiled casualty, never once looking at you.

Father’s face is kind when he wants it to be, laying a hand in the middle of your shoulder blades, it's a feeling of comfort you can’t help but lean into, “We’re discussing how to remain chaste in a sinful world.”

The word ‘chaste’ is pinched into your spine and despite yourself, you smile. A heavy heart has found home at the bottom of your stomach, but you can’t let on to the sick churning in your gut. Your parents gleam with pride for their daughter. A perfect example of a good Catholic girl.

“I’ll have her meet at my office this evening, is six okay?” His question sounds like your dowry, talking past you and asking for your parents permission.

Your dad shakes Father Shout’s hand once more, delighted at how his diligent parenting must be the reason you’ve found yourself in holy favor. Said ‘parenting’ is definitely to blame, but not in the way your dad assumes.

*** *** ***

The walk through church and into the sacristy is like a meditation in fear, every step begging you to turn back, to run home like a scared child. You tread steady, feet searing on hot coals until you’re met with the sound of Father Shouta just beyond the threshold.

“You’re late.” Something sinister fills Father’s quarters as soon as you open the door. It’s scary how offhandedly he can lie. You’re at least ten minutes early, the evening toll of church bells will signal the hour. He wants to see if you’ll stutter, if you’ll argue. You stay quiet, busying your hands with the hem of your skirt, fingers lifting it slightly before you remember who owns the eyes sitting across the room. They look golden from here, a honey you could drown in. You cough at the feeling of sugar in your lungs before collecting yourself and awaiting instruction.

Seemingly pleased with your docility, he smiles wide and crooked. It’s bound into a book he will whisper into you page by page. It’s written in a language only he knows.

Shouta motions you farther inside, leaning back in his seat. He corrects you when you move to sit in the chair on the other side of his desk, waiting with little patience as you settle against his side instead. Your posture is stiff being this close, being this alone.

His facial hair is trimmed neatly, small scars litter his face, the most pronounced a jagged trail under his right eye. From the dim evening light, you see a shadow of loose hairs make a pointed crown around his head.

“St. Teresa of Avila,” Father starts, tapping his fingers against a small stack of papers, “what do you know of her?”

You’re disarmed, the question seems so innocent-- not a note of ulterior motive detectible. Even so, your guard remains high. His intentions need no subtext.

“St. Teresa of Avila, the patron saint of headache sufferers,” you’re struggling to see the point, but Father prompts you to continue, “she was a Spanish nun, she wrote about a prayerful life,”

After another moment of measured silence, you grow even more tense, “Father Shouta, forgive me, I don’t understand,”

You’re hushed with a laugh, the small collection of papers placed in your hands. The first leaf is titled with large letters, “The Life of Teresa of Jesus.”

“I’d like you to read the section I’ve highlighted.”

You shake, thumbing through until you find a block of text traced in bright yellow. You scan its contents, but are quickly interrupted by Shouta’s next request.

“Out loud.”

There’s no escaping the toy box.

His stare is unwavering, giving you no room for objection. They’re not soft like honey anymore, Father Shouta’s eye’s are harsh, bloody gemstones.

You know better than to keep him waiting, adjusting in your half sat position on the side of his desk, you begin reading with hoarse inflection, “In his hands I saw a long golden spear, and at the end of the iron tip I seemed to see a point of fire. With this he seemed to pierce my heart several times so that it penetrated to my entrails.”

Wincing, the words sound like a stranger in your ears. After every sentence, Shouta’s fingertips inch closer to the end of your skirt, right above the knee. You’d be stoned for this kind of hemline at home, but with Father it seems to be exactly the sacred skin he wanted to see.

His hands move, unwavering, as you continue with the annotated paragraph, “When he drew it out, I thought he was drawing them out with it and he left me completely afire with a great love of God.” Fingers stop their gentle assault before adding pressure to your inner thigh, he peels apart your legs with a wordless prompting to keep going.

“The pain was so sharp that it made me utter several moans; and so excessive was the sweetness caused me by this intense pain that one can never wish to lose it, nor will one’s soul be content with anything less than God.”

By the last several words, Father Shouta’s lips are centered in between your open thighs, you feel tears frozen in the duct. You want to pull away, to escape, but his lips hold something you’ve never been this close to.

“Piety is a virtue,” you can feel the hot breath against your most intimate planes of flesh, “but our God is one of pleasure too.”

His kiss feels like branding. An aimless, confused lamb seared with the mark of its owner.

You cry out, loud and broken, when his mouth meets the cotton covering your pussy. Shouta uses his pointer and middle finger to move the fabric away.

No one has ever seen these parts of you, kept locked away for your future husband until now, sitting in the heart of your family's church, writhing from even the slightest touch.Hips buck of their own accord, and you’re granted one last open-mouthed lave against your twitching cunt. His tongue peaks out slightly to catch your clit before pulling away.

You move as if possessed, falling to your knees in front of your Father. Your mouth opens, that same quiet obedience, and his finger brushes your lower lip again. “No one” you think, eyes fluttering shut at the feeling of fingers wrapped into the back of your hair, “no one can serve two masters.”

“Body and soul, you’re mine.”

But there’s not a soul left in sight.

✞ 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐞: All writing is chiwhorei’s original content, please do not repost or modify. Do no read my content as asmr. Do not recommend me on TikTok.©️