#directive from command (ooc)

[transformiing]

Ladies and gentlemen... THEM

[bugbear55]

“mercy saga” au

name is a work in progress but its what im tagging all of this au under. anyways, AU is basically;

Odysseus’ arc goes in reverse. He starts off as a monster and learns mercy. also au is sorta ooc, also referenced from the odyssey

Anyways,

TROY SAGA

the musical starts with The Horse and the Infant, followed by Just a Man.

No changes to THatI. Just a man is less of a ballad and more of a villain song. With Odysseus dropping the infant, he establishes how he will do anything to get home. He has minimal hesitation, unlike the original song. Odysseus is already a monster.

then, we have Full Speed Ahead, and Warrior of the Mind

In Full Speed Ahead, we meet two major characters. Eurylochus, Odysseus’ second in command, and Polites, his best friend. They’re running out of food. Eurylochus suggests they dock on the island ahead and raid for food. Odysseus agrees.

There, they find the Lotus Eaters, a large group of men and women who are more than willing to share their fruit after some back and forth with Polites.

Unfortunately, Odysseus does not recognize the fruit.

In Warrior of The Mind, Athena appears and forces Odysseus to reject the fruit from his body. She sobers him up by reminding him of his role as a warrior of the mind and his goal to get home.

Unfortunately, Odysseus’s men have also consumed the fruit. Some are harder to sober up than others.

The final song of the Troy Saga is Cope With That.

In this song, Elpenor, a crew member, reveals his friend Perimedes is depressed. He asks that they leave him on the island, because he is happier under the lotus’ effects.

Unfortunately, Athena urges Odysseus to refuse. And he does.

Odysseus forces all of the men to return to the ship, including those still under the effects of the lotus, like Perimedes.

He threatens the lotus eaters, asking where they can get other food, and is directed to a nearby cave.

next up..

cyclops saga

[open arms is NOT removed, just moved to a later time]

[generalsmemories]

How do I tell my husband he got scammed into buying a lion?

✧ jing yuan x gn!reader

✧ summary: during one autumn afternoon you're suddenly faced with another one of your husband's impulsive purchases. only that this time it's a living being.

✧ content: established relationship, fluff, humor, might be a bit ooc

✧ a/n: hello there hsr fandom! i have unfortunately lost the battle against myself on making another sideblog for jing yuan, the man who has singlehandedly occupied my mind since his first appearance in the beta. i do hope that this will actually appear in the tags, but every infomation you would need if you want to request something is all up on the blog if you so wish! i hope we can have a pleasant time together !!

also this is not beta-read, we die like how fast my resolve to not create a jing yuan blog died.

Being the spouse of the Arbiter-General of the Xianzhou Luofu comes with it's share of benefits and disadvantages. For one you're regarded at a higher position than most of it's citizens, often being stopped on the side of the road when taking a walk to exchange numerous pleasantries with merchants from outside of Xianzhou, various store owners or cloud knights on duty.

Another factor is shouldering the burden your husband has on his shoulder, an oath you had taken yourself the day you accepted Jing Yuan's nth proposal. You considered that a fair trade with his vast knowledge and insight into a possible future and doing everything behind the scene to avoid colliding headfirst into said problem. A feat that attracted you towards the general in the first place, minus his dashing looks of course.

The biggest disadvantage of publicly announcing that you were indeed the Arbiter-General's significant other was doing everything within your power to not throw your husband's famous title away for a newer, more terrible one. (more utc!)

Because as you see him walking up the steps of the Seat of Divine Foresight, your gaze is not locked with your husband's smiling face, rather it's fixated on the small being he has cradled in his arms. The soft smile you had quickly spreading into a more nervous and confused smile as you glance over at Qingzu, the counselor looking at you with just as much confusion.

How in the world did you manage to leave him alone out in the market area for an hour and he comes back with a lion cub?

"[Name], darling! Look at this grimalkin that a merchant had!"

A what now?

"... A grimalkin, you say?" Every book that has recorded history had specified that the grimalkin species had gone extinct, and you were well aware that your husband knew this fact. And yet here you were, faced with his smile directed down towards what you can clearly tell is a lion cub, his thumb pressing down at its paws affectionately.

You're starting to think that Yanqing's impulsive purchases with his sword collection aligns with your own husband's impulsiveness.

Coughing loudly into your hand, you take a deep breath before descending down the stairs to be on the same level as Jing Yuan, peering down onto the cub's face. It was indeed cute, and judging by how enamored Jing Yuan is, you can clearly tell that it's small stature is what attracted him to it in the first place.

Oh he's going to be crushed when it grows up, "It's adorable, Jing Yuan," you settle on saying, waving a finger over the lion's grimalkin face, the animal lifting its paws to try to grab it. You shoot a look towards Qingzu, a silent command for her to look into which outer merchant was now scamming people into buying literal lions. The counselor quickly excusing herself to look into the matter immediately, Jing Yuan only giving her a smile and a wave of his hand as she scurries down the stairs.

"Right? I decided to name it Mimi," he muses, and your heart breaks a tiny bit for him, but there are more pressing matters at hand than the fact that your husband once again got scammed because he was most likely bored out of his mind.

You would rather that the Xianzhou citizens know him as "The Dozing General" instead of the general that gets scammed a few times too many. How does one even go on about trying to tell their husband that the grimalkin in his arms is actually a lion?

"A fitting name indeed," you mutter, raising a hand to caress Jing Yuan's cheek, a simple gesture to make the general direct his attention to you. However, you could still see that his guard was slightly up with you. You only chuckle at that, leaning in to slide your lips over his own, Jing Yuan wasting no time to press back.

Another well hidden secret reserved for the walls of the Divine Foresight is the fact your husband is incredibly weak for his own spouse.

"... Want to tell me how much you paid for Mimi, dear?" you ask in a whisper when your lips part, thumb caressing over the mole under his eye.

Jing Yuan merely smiles, twisting his head to press his lips against your hand instead, "It was from my personal wallet, dear. Please don't fret over the small details."

"Darling, I hope you're aware that the small details would be the necessary funding for accomodation, toys and food, right?" you say with a chuckle, your husband freezing with his ministrations upon remembering that fact.

Oh well, you want to see how long it takes before your husband comes to realization that it's a lion. You just have to be extra vigilant towards the numerous fundings in the meantime.

While scrolling through your schedule for the next morning, your phone dings with a message from Qingzu. You quickly look down at Mimi whose resting on your belly and then at Jing Yuan whose sleeping self is still snoring away by your shoulder before letting out a small sigh in relief that the loud noise didn't awake any of them.

Qingzu:

Do I even have a say in this?

Was the message sent by Qingzu, attatched to it is a picture taken of what you can only presume is one of Jing Yuan's "diaries". The contents of it making you let out a low laugh, the shaking making said man beside you grumble before pressing his face into your neck.

Attatched image:

"Eventually, I paid hefty sum for the grimalkin, named it "Mimi", and took it home. Only that I'm too busy with official business and have little time to take care of Mimi. After thinking it over, chores like feeding it and changing its water should also be entrusted to Qingzu. I do wonder why [Name] looked so distraught when they first saw Mimi though. Maybe they didn't think I would favor the petite and small animals instead of the usual large and strong ones?"

[Name]:

So Qingzu, do you have an idea what the easiest way to tell someone they got scammed is?

Qingzu:

That is the role of the spouse, not the counselor.

[justa-fanfic-writer]

– Obedient little boy

Obedient Law, Law acts like a Lovesick dog, OOC Law, I had a make-out session with canon and threw them out the window, and Male Reader is on their makima phase.

Trafalagar Law x Male Reader

Summary: The straw hats never knew that Trafalgar Law could be so... obedient? While the other heart pirates were already used to it but they all were still uncomfortable with it, but You and Law don't give two fucks–

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

The Thousand Sunny sailed smoothly under the bright blue sky, the waves gently lapping against the ships as the Straw Hat Pirates and Heart Pirates were gathered for a meeting. The two crews had teamed up again for a joint mission while Law was thinking of making a strategy. The rest were mingling and shared stories or just doing their own business.

But there was one thing that no one would have anticipated, and it was about to leave the Straw Hats in complete utter shock.

Trafalgar Law, the stoic and usually serious captain of the Heart Pirates, stood at the side of the deck, his gaze fixed on you-his boyfriend, and the one person who had him wrapped around your finger. You, with your sweet yet almost sickening smile, approached him with a look that made Law's heart race. The Heart Pirates exchanged uneasy glances, knowing exactly what was coming, while the Straw Hats remained blissfully unaware.

You stopped in front of Law, your smile widening as you spoke in a voice that dripped with honey.

"Law, why don't you sit down and be a good boy for me?"

The command was soft, but it had an immediate effect. Without hesitation, Law obediently sat down on a nearby crate, his usual serious expression melting away into one of quiet submission. The Heart Pirates, already used to this strange dynamic, shifted uncomfortably but remained silent. However, the Straw Hats were utterly stunned.

"W-What the...?"

Sanji stammered, his cigarette nearly falling from his lips.

"Is this real?"

Usopp whispered, his eyes wide with disbelief,

Even Zoro, who rarely showed surprise, raised an eyebrow, clearly taken aback by the sight of Law being so compliant.

You didn't seem to notice–or care– about the shock you were causing. Instead, you flashed that same sweet smile and, without missing a beat, settled yourself on Law's lap. The move was so casual, so natural, that it almost seemed as if you had done it a thousand times before which, in truth, you probably had.

Law's arms instinctively wrapped around your waist, and he looked up at you with an expression that could only be described as adoring. The tough, battle-hardened captain of the Heart Pirates was nowhere to be seen; in his place was a man completely and utterly devoted to you.

You reached up and gently patted his head, your fingers threading through his dark hair.

"Such a good boy, Law"

You cooed, your voice soft and affectionate.

"You're my very good boy, aren't you?"

Law's cheeks flushed slightly, but he didn't try to hide his reaction. Instead, he leaned into your touch, practically melting beneath your gentle praise. The sight was enough to send shivers down the spines of anyone watching but for entirely different reasons.

The Straw Hats were in various states of disbelief and discomfort. Luffy's mouth hung open, completely stunned by what he was seeing. Nami and Robin exchanged glances, unsure whether to laugh or be concerned, while Chopper hid his face behind his hooves, clearly embarrassed.

Jinbei and Brook, tho? Well, let's just say Brook had his jaw wide open while Jinbei was looking at the other direction, hoping to be distracted by the view.

Meanwhile, the rest of the Heart Pirates, though maybe accustomed to this odd display of affection, still couldn't help but feel a little weirded out by it. They had seen their captain in countless dangerous situations, facing down enemies without fear, but seeing him like this– completely submissive to you–was something they would never fully get used to.

You leaned down, your lips brushing against Law's as you whispered.

"My perfect little puppy"

And then You kissed him, long and slow, your fingers still gently stroking his hair.

Law had responded immediately, his arms tightening around you as he returned the kiss with a passion that belied his usually reserved nature. It was as if the rest of the world had ceased to exist for him–there was only You, and he was completely lost in your touch.

The Straw Hats could only watch in stunned silence as the kiss continued, the air around them thick with an uncomfortable tension. When You finally pulled away, a satisfied smile on your lips, Law was left breathless, his eyes half-lidded and filled with adoration that you might as well could also see the hearts on his eyes.

You chuckled softly, giving him one last affectionate pat on the head.

"Such a good puppy"

You murmured, and Law practically purred in response, his contentment radiating from him like warmth from the sun.

The silence is LOUD

By this point, the Straw Hats were actually on the verge of gagging. Specifically, Sanji as he had turned away, muttering something about how quote on quote on that. "Love should be beautiful, not this... this weird show!" As Sanji felt like gagging as he stuck his tongue out.

Usopp looked like he was about to actually pass out, and even Luffy was scratching his head, trying to make sense of what he had just witnessed.

The Heart Pirates, though trying to maintain their composure, were clearly struggling to keep their cool. Some of them were muttering under their breath, while others just looked away, pretending to be interested in anything other than the sight of their captain being so utterly... domesticated and love sickened...

As for You, you simply smiled, completely unfazed by the reactions around you. You knew exactly how much you affected Law, and you relished in it. Leaning back slightly, you allowed Law to wrap his arms more securely around you, his head resting against your shoulder as he basked in your presence

It was clear to everyone now– no matter how strong or serious Trafalgar Law might appear to the world, when it came to you, he was nothing more than an obedient, lovesick puppy

And this nightmare of an event was something none of them would never ever forget ever.

And while Male Reader and Law are still in the background still making out–

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

Made this because I had a dream with law being an obedient boy, AND I LOVE ME HOT MEN WHOS OBEDIANT FOR YOU, AND YOU ONLY SO BARK BARK WOOF WOOF BITCHES.

[bella-goths-wife]

Kiss the barrel of my gun softly: chapter two

Chapter warnings: sexual tension, manipulation, threatening, angst, drinking, smoking, mentions of age gap relationship, reader is a brothel owner, probably ooc Sevika, reader being uncomfortable with unwanted sexual attention (not from Sevika)

Sevika sits back on Silco’s plush couch with a cigarette between her lips and a grim, expectant look on her face. Her robotic arm cradles a crystal glass filled to the brim with bourbon, the good kind that Silco had to have extracted from Piltover and only offers her when he wants to soften the blow of an oncoming conversation. 

“I heard about your run in with the Madame yesterday” Silco speaks slowly and with narrowed eyes as he lights his cigar, analysing her every move and reaction with the intent of finding out the cause of her actions

Sevika wills herself not to bristle at the mention of you, bringing the glass to her lips and taking a deep swig of the bourbon, using the burning sensation of the liquid to excuse her long silence.

“Nothing I couldn't handle” Sevika answers nonchalantly, hoping that Silco would drop the subject so she could leave and beat whoever ratted on her to a fucking pulp.

“Heard that you stopped young Peter from attacking the Madame while she was vulnerable” Silco states calmly with a arched brow as he blows out the smoke from his cigar 

“I did” Sevika admits as her mind quickly comes up with a satisfactory excuse to appease him “I assumed you wouldn’t want us to lose the chance for a partnership over something unimportant”

“A sign of disrespect to you is a direct disrespect to me when you're out representing my business” Silco shoots back with an unimpressed expression, not particularly happy about his second in commands excuses “seems pretty important to me, considering you’ve never tolerated it before”

Sevika stays silent as her hand grips her drink before she takes another large gulp, knowing she’d been caught out. Her eyes flick up to Silcos as his gaze bores into the side of her skull.

Silco lets out a sigh as he massages his temple with two fingers, leaning back in his chair with a clear look of annoyance at the situation. 

“I understand you and the Madame had a….. Friendship before she took over Emeralds brothel” Silco speaks slowly, choosing his words carefully

“Friendship” Sevika thinks to herself as she internally scoffs “if that's what he wants to call it”

“But i didn't make you my number two because of your affection for others” Silco continues with a sarcastic tone “i did it because of your ruthlessness and loyalty to Zaun, your loyalty to me as your boss and your friend”

Sevika stubs her cigarette out in the Jinx personalised ashtray on Silco’s coffee table, choosing to stay silent and accept her scolding.

“She’s denied our men entry and use of her brothel, refused my congratulations for her new title as Madame, refused my various invitations to meetings to discuss business partnerships and now disrespecting my people in people” Silco lists off with an irritated expression “She can’t keep disrespecting the chain of command without consequence, she needs to be leashed”

“I know, sir” Sevika breathed out through a defeated sigh, she knew he was right. She had been excusing your actions for a long time now, protecting you subtly from the shadows because of the guilt that weighed heavily on her heart and prevented her from sleeping at night. 

Silco lets out a deep sigh as he leans back and smokes his cigar with a concentrated face before blowing out the smoke and tilting his head in an almost curious manner.

“Maybe it's best if I handle this one and pay the new madame a visit” Silco suggests almost experimentally “if its too much-”

“I’ll handle it” Sevika speaks up quickly and firmly, eager to ensure that Silco stays separate from you “I’ll talk to her, warn her against doing anything else”

“It won’t be too much?” Silco asks almost condescendingly, testing to see how far he could push her until she snaps

“No, sir” Sevika speaks through gritted teeth as she downs her drink and stands, wanting to escape the conversation desperately “I’ll visit her at her brothel and give her a warning”

Silco looks at her with observant eyes and an arched brow before sighing and waving his hand to dismiss her from his scolding. Sevika doesn't waste her time in taking up his offer as she quickly makes her way to the door.

“Very well” Silco agrees in an almost bored tone as he watches her leave “see that it's handled”

Sevika only lets out a breath as the door closes behind her, leaving her standing alone outside Silco’s office. An exhausted look takes place on her face as her eyes wander to the small couch beside the office door, intended for people to wait on until Silco could see them. 

Her eyes move onto the empty other side of the door, the image forcing memories to worm their way to the front of her mind. She scoffs and sighs before shaking her head and beginning her journey to your brothel, trying to tamper the slight excitement in her bones at the prospect of talking to you.

——————————-past———————————

Sevika’s mind had been stuck on you and your oddly charming self since that night at the bar. She’d even gone as far as frequenting it more often in an attempt to spot you again. Unfortunately you’d managed to slip through her fingers as it seemed she couldn't find you anywhere.

Which is why she felt so confused at finding you waiting outside her boss’s office, leaning against the wall facing the door casually. You looked much more polished this time, cleaner without the muck covering your face and your hair tied back in an updo manner instead of being frazzled around your head. You were dressed differently too, your clothing much less casual and slightly more revealing but quite youthful compared to the dirty rags you were wearthat night at the bar. 

“What are you doing here all dressed up?” she asks as she leans on the wall next to you, attempting to spook you slightly but you simply turn your head and look up at her.

“Thought I’d see you somewhere around here” you state calmly as you look up at her and lock your eyes with hers

“Astute observation” Sevika scoffs out with a sarcastic tone “why are you here?”

“Madame Emerald has a meeting with Silco today and asked me to come with her” you answer as you nod your head in the direction of the office to show that the two were already in there.

“You're working for Emerald today?” Sevika asks and you nod “that why you're dressed like that?”

“Madame likes to make sure I look presentable” you say with a shrug, a hint of a fond smile on your lips.

“Presentable huh?” Sevika asks as her eyes travel up and down your body “she got you working the floor like that?”

“I don’t do brothel work” you point out, the smile dropping from your face “i told you that”

“Kid, you don’t think I actually believe that do you?” Sevika asks with a smug tone and a disbelieving expression

You don’t reply to her prodding and teasing, simply rolling your eyes and scoffing. This only spurs Sevika on as she leans closer to your face so that you can feel her hot breath on your cheek.

“What, no reply?” She continues to tease with a raised brow and a mocking tone “and i thought you were all clever and confident?”

“Your men are coming” you state challengingly as you pick up the sounds of clumsy footsteps “do you really want them to see you like this with me?”

Sevika rolls her eyes with a scoff as she takes a step back from you, creating some distance between the two of you.

Sure enough, two of Silco’s men come stumbling around the corner seconds later and passing the two of you. They slow down slightly at the sight of you, smirks and crude whispers exchanged between the two of them as they approach you.

You look away with a slightly uncomfortable look on your face, crossing your arms around yourself almost in an attempt to self soothe and make yourself disappear. This seemingly pleases the two men who let out cruel laughs at your reaction.

They quickly shut up though, when sevika is spotted next to you with an absolutely deadly glare. She steps slightly in front of you as they get closer, her poncho dangling just in front of your hand as you feel tempted to grab the soft fabric.

The two men trip over themselves as they scurry away as quickly as possible. Sevika scoffs and rolls her as she returns to her previous position next to you against the wall.

“Fucking idiots” she mumbles her breath with a sigh

“They’re yours and Silco’s men” you point out, slightly surprised at her harsh words.

“So?” Sevika scoffs out with an obvious tone “Stupid’s stupid no matter what side they’re on”

You let out a chuckle at her blunt words,covering your smiling mouth with your palm to quieten down your giggles. Sevika can’t help her lips quirking up at the sound of your almost heavenly laugh, letting out her own huff of amusement before it dies down to a comfortable silence.

“How long until they finish up?” Sevika asks with a nod in the office's direction.

“Probably another ten minutes?” you guess before tilting your head curiously “shouldn’t you be in there, for protection and stuff?”

“Silco doesn’t need a babysitter, sweetheart” Sevika replies with a scoff “i'm sure he can handle himself against emerald just fine on his own”

“____” you correct her with your name “your people could get the wrong impression if they hear you calling me sweetheart”

Sevika steps in front of you, her robotic arm resting on the wall next to your head and effectively caging you in. Her face leans in closely as she smirks.

“Why would I care what impression they get?” Sevika asks obviously in a low tone

“Because flirting with me hardly makes you look loyal to Silco” you point out with a scoff “i’m one of his rivals assistants after all”

“What does it matter to Silco what I do in my free time?” Sevika asks suggestively

“Doing me is off limits” you state firmly, your hand going to her shoulder with the intention of pushing her away

“Says who?” Sevika asks with a low chuckle 

“Many, many people” you reply as your hand slides up from her shoulder to cup her cheek almost teasingly, unable to deny yourself from wanting to touch her.

“And who’s got the balls to tell me your off limits?” She asks with an amused scoff.

“Madame Emerald and Silco for one” you point out with an amused smile at her determination “unless they miraculously stop hating each other and make a business deal out of nowhere”

“Your infuriating” Sevika sighs out, smirk dropping at the reminder

“Yep” you answer back with a small laugh

“You're a brat, y’know that?” she asks with a huff as she leans in closer.

You're unable to resist as your eyes flutter closed in anticipation before snapping open suddenly and pulling your head back at the sound of talking and footsteps from the other side of the office door.

“They’re coming” you warn quickly with slight panic on your face

“Just my luck” Sevika grumbles out with a sigh before pulling away and creating distance between the two of you by standing next to you.

Madame Emerald exits the office with a foul look, clearly unhappy with the meeting's conclusion. She’s dressed in her usual elaborate emerald green outfit and makeup covering her ageing face, an outfit befitting someone with the title of madame.

She quickly makes her way towards you, a fond smile taking place on her lips at the sight of you as she notices some stray hairs and almost childishly tucks them behind your ears before patting your head affectionately

At the sight of Sevika, a frown takes over her expression as she shoots her an extremely unfriendly glare. She doesn’t even bother to acknowledge her more than that as she takes off down the hallway and calls for you to follow.

You gift Sevika one last smile when Silco isn't looking before following Madame Emerald obediently. Sevika watches your figure disappear down the hallway with an irritated expression, she can’t help but feel like you’ve slipped through her fingers once again.

There's always next time, she supposes.

—————————-present—————————-

You can't help but let out a sigh at the unwanted memories worm their way back into the front of your mind, wanting nothing more than to focus on the paperwork sitting in front of you.

“Everything okay Madame?” you hear from beside you

You let out another sigh before nodding and reminding yourself to keep stone faced, you could let everything out later but right now you were Madame Obsidian and not ‘____’

“Everythings fine, Ginger” you say calmly with a nod to the muscular, red haired woman “just…. Thinking”

Ginger simply gives you a nod and an understanding look before the older woman's face turns slightly awkward.

“More of Silco’s men came to the brothel earlier, offered a bag of coins each if we let them in” she speaks carefully, tiptoeing around the uncomfortable subject “I really think we should start letting them back in-”

“No” you cut her with a firm rejection “none of Silco’s people are allowed on the premises, thats final”

“But without their profit then we could go into debt-” she attempts to reason with you, but you cut her off once again

“No” you repeat firmly, a slight bit of vulnerability cracking into your voice “I won't allow it, i won't have anyone who works for that man near my girls”

Ginger's face softens with understanding at your words, how protective you are of your workers despite most of them being older than you yourself. The older woman just sighs and nods.

“Understood madame, i’ll leave you to your work” she says as she heads to the door, stopping herself before leaving fully and speaking in a quiet tone “she’d be proud of you, madame”

You can't stop the tears that flow down your cheeks and wet the paperwork underneath you as soon as the door swings shut. Small sobs barely muffled by your palm and your hand threading through the hair on your scalp and pulling harsh enough to burn, finally letting out the emotions you’d been hiding all day.

[writeroutoftime]

pawns in your game

pairing: cassian x fem!reader

summary: when you get injured working a job with rhys, your mate - worried for your safety - loses it and finally lets go of his pent up anger

warnings: angst, injury towards reader, cass getting angry at rhys and also rhys kinda being a dick (look I have a lot of thoughts of conversations that never happened in acosf lol - I just hope this isn't horribly ooc)

words: 1.3k

a/n: first cassian fic! honestly, I know I said I'm in love with rhys, but it's the same for cass and az - so this one is for my fellow cassian people! wasn't sure how to wrap this up, so I left it open for a part 2. let me know if anyone is interested and/or has any ideas? but either way, please enjoy!! (also, if you could let me know what you think because I'm so nervous about posting this!)

tagging @captainsophiestark as requested! (hope you're having a lovely day!)

oOoOo

"Cassian, I need you to visit Windhaven and deal with Devlon. I'm getting reports of unrest, and I want this handled before it becomes a problem." Rhys commanded, not looking up from the papers on his desk.

Standing at attention, Cass nodded his head once, sharply. "Of course. I will go and pack, so that y/n and I may leave before the sun sets." He moved to exit the room, holding his hand out for you, but was quickly stopped before either of you got too far.

"Actually, y/n, I need you to accompany me." Rhys interrupted, directing his attention to you.

Your jaw dropped, caught off guard, and you hurried to school your features. It was not that you had to be paired with Cassian for all missions, but it had been that way for at least a century now since your mating ceremony. It served as peace of mind to you and Cass, and usually meant your missions were more successful compared to when you were separated. Surely, Rhys understood that.

"We will be leaving for the Spring Court in the morning, and I need my most trusted courtier with me."

Shock ran through your body, but you nodded your head regardless. It must be a serious matter, for you had not visited the Spring Court in many months. However, you instantly felt a sharp tug of your mating bond followed by waves of anger that poured off of Cassian.

"Spring Court?" he ground out, fists clenched at his side. "Why must you travel to the Spring Court? I thought we put that behind us?"

"Because I have official business to conduct with Tamlin that supersedes our personal desires. And I need the Night Court's courtier present for." Rhys snapped back.

You sent a soothing message down the bond, trying to calm Cass' anger you felt growing with each second that passed. "Cass, it's alright. Both of us will be fine."

"No. Rhys, you know what happened the last time any of us stepped foot there. You really want to risk it? Can't you send anyone else to go? Lucien, Mor, Feyre?"

Now it was Rhys' turn to growl. "Watch it, Cassian. I've told y/n she will accompany to Spring and that's enough."

"But can't you just-"

"I said that's enough!" Rhys shouted, his eyes darkened dangerously as the thread of his patience snapped. "I am your High Lord, and you will not push back against what I command."

A tension so thick that it threatened to choke you immediately filled the room. You kept your eyes locked on the ground, but you didn't have to look to know Cass wore a mask of despair on his face. It had been decades since Rhys had lost his temper like that.

Cassian merely bowed his head in mock respect before dragging you from the room. He did not speak for the next hour, only doing so to whisper his love and goodbye to you, before flying to Windhaven, not saying another word to Rhys.

oOoOo

The next day found yourself in the ruins of the Spring Court. What once was a beautiful court that thrived for all its citizens now lay dilapidated and lonely, a reflection of the court's high lord's own feelings. It had rattled your nerves to set foot on Tamlin's territory considering the rocky history between the Spring and Night courts, but you would not leave Rhys' side.

Now, you were utterly exhausted from mediating with two, stubborn males all day; only for no new development to transpire, meaning you simply wasted a day away from your own court and your mate. Your only relief came from the swift exit Rhys insisted on, making sure you would arrive home before the sun set.

Yet, the tension from the previous day lingered as you and Rhys traveled to the border to be able to winnow out. But as you both walked in silence, you couldn't help but feel uneasy. Like someone, or something was watching you. Before you could communicate any of this to Rhys, you caught a solider out of the corner of your eye with an arrow notched and aimed at your high lord.

"Look out!" you shouted. With such little warning, you knew Rhys wouldn't be able to deflect the arrow on his own. And with a rush of adrenaline, you pushed your body to reach Rhys.

Mere seconds before the arrow could lodge itself in its initial target, your body collided with Rhys', knocking him out of the way and safely to the ground. Instead, the arrow lodged itself deep in your shoulder, burning like a thousand fires. You let out a guttural scream, immediately dropping to the ground. 

Being part of the Inner Circle - the Court of Dreams - meant you were no stranger to pain, but this was unlike anything you ever thought existed. Very briefly, you recognized that Rhys had neutralized the threat and now hovered over your body. 

His face was contorted in pain and tears clouded his eyes. He moved to pull the arrow from your body, but halted the moment he touched it. Your scream reverberated in the stone courtyard. 

"y/n, I'm sorry, I'm sorry." he cried, never seeing you like this. Quickly, Rhys gathered you in his arms and winnowed back to Velaris and directly into the med wing. He prayed Madja could mend the wounds, and he blanched at the thought of Cassian discovering the events that had played out. 

oOoOo

Meanwhile, in the Windhaven camp, Cassian was meeting with a handful of males, attempting to negotiate peace. His focus wavered, however, as a blinding wave of agony struck his heart through his bond. He froze on the spot, his heart stopped pumping blood. While on a mission, the two of you had agreed to keep the bond closed - for safety reasons. The fact that he could feel this immense pain, meant something very wrong had occurred. 

"I-I have to go." Cassian mumbled, not bothering to offer any more explanation to the Illyrians - consequences be damned.

Immediately, he took to the skies and started the flight back to Velaris. The already long flight felt like it took an eternity. The wind strung at Cassian's cheeks as he soared, but the pain didn't register like the way the bond sung in pain.

Finally, Cass could see River House in his site, and when he finally entered the house, he was met with the site of his family huddled together in the sitting room. All eyes turned his way, a mixture of pity and concern as they looked at him. 

"What happened? Where is y/n?" he demanded, fully stepping into his role as Lord of Bloodshed, eyes darkened and wings drawn out menacingly.

Before anyone could answer, another scream could be heard from the halls. Cassian's knees buckled, and he would have fallen to the floor if Azriel hadn't been standing by. Rhys blocked his path, unable to meet his brother's eye.

"She was attacked, brother. We were ambushed while visiting the Spring Court." Rhys whispered.

"And they attacked her?" Cass questioned, though he knew deep down that wasn't the case. When Rhys, or anyone else for that matter, refused to speak, Cassian growled. "What happened?"

Unable to speak, Rhysand gently scraped against Cassian's mental shields and projected to him the whole truth of what had happened at the Spring Court; the ambush, you pushing yourself into harm's way for the sake of Rhys, and the pain you felt from the moment the arrow struck your body.

As Rhys withdrew himself from his brother's mind, Cass drew, deep rugged breaths. The silence in the room was so thick it felt suffocating, but no one dared to move or speak first. However, instead of speaking, Cass pushed past everyone and demanded his way into your room to be by your side.

One look at your crumpled form, sent Cassian to his knees by your bedside. He reached out, hesitantly, to grasp your hand in his and allowed the tears to fall. "I'm so sorry, sweetheart." he mumbled.

Madja made herself known from the corner, approaching Cass the way one would a frightened animal. "The arrow she was shot with was laced with a terrible poison - much worse than faebane. I've done my best, but some of the poison already made it to her system."

"When will she wake up?" Cass asked, not allowing the possibility of you never waking to cross his lips.

The healer sighed deeply, looking over the famed general, now brought to his knees at the sight of his mate fighting for her life. "Only the Cauldron and Mother know. It will be up to y/n to bring herself back from the brink." Madja spoke slowly.

With a final, soothing touch to Cass's shoulder, Madja made her exit. Now off to deliver the same news to the rest of your waiting family.

"Please don't leave me. Y-you can't leave me." Cass whispered, clutching your hand. "I'm here with you every step of the way." he vowed.

oOoOo

And that was how it continued for the next four days as your body continued to try and heal itself from the inside out. Cass refused to move from the chair he had dragged to sit by your bed. Unwilling to leave your side for even a moment.

The rest of his family took turns sitting with you and Cass, bringing him meals, forcing him to at least take a bite. He knew that everyone else was suffering as well from your situation, but it felt like his heart was being torn apart, bit by bit, with each hour that passed and you still remained asleep.

He wasn't stupid. He knew the longer you went without improvement, the less likely it became you would heal. Cass heard the hushed conversations Mor and Azriel held outside your door, discussing what to do should the worst happen, Cauldron forbid.

It was on that fourth day that Cassian reached a tipping point. He heard the door creak open behind him, imagining it was Amren who would be sitting with him, based on the previous days' schedule.

What Cass had not anticipated was to see his High Lord approach the bed and pull a chair up on the opposite side of your bed. It was obvious to see the prominent dark circles that overtook Rhys's normally bright face, and the way his body and seemingly sunk into itself. But Cass could not bring himself to care for his brother's guilt or be the first to utter a word.

With a wave of his hand, Rhys summoned a tray of food for Cassian, and only sighed when he rejected the peace offering. Finally, Rhys found a sliver of courage and was the first to break the silence.

"Madja has yet to make headway on identifying the poison y/n was hit with, but she is not giving up. None of us are." he offered, unsure of how to breach the subject.

Rhysand could only imagine what Cassian was experiencing. The pain of losing Feyre had been so immense, but in a twisted sense, at least it had been quick. A blink of an eye and she was gone. Rhys didn't think he would have been strong enough to sit vigil, feeling her fade through the bond with each passing minute.

"Stop looking at me like she's already gone." Cass growled, eyes darkening towards Rhys.

"Brother, I only want to help her, and to support you."

"I think you've done quite enough. It's your fault she's even in this position to begin with." he spat, enjoying the way that Rhys flinched at his words.

"Now that's not fair, Cassian." Rhys tried to counter. "I never asked her to that for me."

Cass could only scoff at the High Lord's response. "Of course, you didn't have to ask. You're the fucking High Lord, of course she was going to risk her life for you. Isn't that we all do here?"

"All of you, y/n including, knew what you were getting into, what the dangers were, when you swore allegiance to my court. You don't get to throw that back on me. You think this doesn't hurt me just as it hurts you?"

"No, it fucking doesn't!" Cassian screamed, his blood boiling at this point. "Because you use us like your puppets to protect you and your mate-"

"Careful how you continue, Cassian." Rhysand warned, not caring for slander against his mate, even in Cass's state of grief.

"Ever since this "death bargain" you and Feyre struck, it's like the rest of us don't matter. All we do is making sure your asses aren't killed because Cauldron forbid the saviors of Prythian are stolen from us." Cassian blazed on. "Yes, you've lost your mate before, Rhys, but she came back to you, and you to her.

"Who will remake y/n if she can't fight this? You and your High Lady are so far up on your pedestal that you don't know what it's like for the rest of us. Yes, we understood what our duties would entail, but that doesn't mean we have to continue to stand for this." Cassian spat, finally allowing years of pent-up fear and anger to spill over.

With one last, murderous, glare, Cassian turned his back on Rhysand, letting his words ring out for all in the House to hear. His wings stretched out behind him, hiding both you and he from Rhys, the Night Court, and the rest of the world. If it was to only be the two of you against everyone else from that point on, so be it.

part 2

oOoOo

a/n: part 2?

[hanasnx]

" A SIMPLE LOVE WITH A COMPLEX TOUCH " — symbiote!peter parker x reader.

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ NOTES: first picture source; second picture source is pinterest; third picture source is pinterest, edited by me; draft from november. WARNINGS: fem reader ノ sable!reader ノ established relationship ノ gun mention ノ cocky ooc spider-man bcos hes wearing the symbiote and its affecting his behavior ノ mild toxicity.

"— and I want guys on every level of that building, do you understand?" you command, prodding the schematics with your finger to direct your subordinate's attention. Obediently, he nods, gathering up the plans to disperse them accordingly as you straighten from your hunch. As papers crackle and crease from his ministrations, you continue, "We can't afford another mistake."

Commotion alerts you, and you seek it out as your hand securely rests on one of your pistols. "I'm here! I'm here. I was late but I'm here now." That voice. Your lips press into a thin line as you release your weapon, approaching your officers who surround the newcomer.

SYMBIOTE!SPIDER-MAN glances around uneasily. "Guess I don't get Employee-of-the-Month this time 'round, huh?" His un-welcoming party closes in and he raises his hands in surrender. "Yeesh. You guys take punctuality very seriously."

"Spider-Man." At the sound of your voice, your employees part, and his gaze lands on you. It's subtle, but his visor narrows. "This is a restricted area. My associates will escort you out." The order is heeded, and they reach for him. Uncooperative as ever, the hero takes a step back.

He tilts his head, giving his surroundings a scan as if to search for his response. "Are you serious?"

Your brows raise indignantly. You are not fond of being questioned. "Spider-Man—"

"—So formal."

"Because of your inexcusable misconduct and your inability to follow my orders, you were fired. You no longer work as my consultant, and you cannot access this facility. Exit now, or we will use force." It's not that it hurts you to treat him so coldly, you're still angry at him. Right now you treat him as you would treat any trespasser.

There's a shift in his behavior. The way he pivots his head to eye you from the side, familiar body language betraying your unprofessional relationship. It exploits your feelings for him. The old Spider-Man would've respected your boundary. You don't know who stands before you now. "C'mon," A scoff emits from him. "Don't do this." You don't appreciate being bargained with, and you turn your back on him.

It's your subordinates' signal to move in, but they don't get close enough. He vaults over, landing in front of you to cut off your path. There's a fierceness in your eyes at his utter lack of respect, boring into him as he towers over you. His abrupt presence had caught you off-guard, having expected him to accept it's time to leave, and your hand reflexively tucks under your trench coat to fix on your pistol. There's a new level of danger to Peter Parker, he's unpredictable, and you don't trust him. Part of you knows it's the right move to have your weapon handy when facing him, and it's the part that wins.

"What are you gonna do?" he questions, regarding the position of your hand. "Make me?" In the uncharacteristic tone of his voice, you can make out his hurt hidden behind his challenge.

As he advances, you take a cautious step back. The din of guns cocking and aiming onto the new threat sounds behind you, but you and Peter are locked onto each other. You know you can't make him do anything, not with the strength he possesses... he knows that, too.

It's not like him to make a show of his power, how he bullies other into submission. He's always the bigger man—always. Now that size is used against you, looking up at him, and praying he doesn't try something. He inclines into your direction, testing you as he waits for you to put him in his place; his shoulders slack arrogantly, hanging his loose arms as you arch away from his face in yours. His slow descent into your space is a tactic.

"Walk- away." you warn.

A second passes—a second that feels like forever. He straightens, receding from you. "I'll walk." he concedes, and you hold your sigh of relief. "If you're the one that escorts me."

You consider it, pulling your lips to one side as you blow hot air through your flared nostrils. Reluctantly, you disarm, and snatch his bicep. You yank him over, towing him to the exit.

Once out of earshot, Peter seizes the opportunity to ask you the stupidest question he possibly could. "Are you mad at me?" He's used to your professional attitude, how standoffish you can be, all things that he's faced when you two had met.

You can't even speak. Thoughts run at a million miles an hour through your head, reconsidering every aspect of this interaction. Your jaw clenches. The entrance to the fence is close, and you can't wait to be rid of him so you can get back to work.

"Baby, talk to me." he lowers his voice, a surprising croon to it as if he seeks to appeal to your emotional side. You wouldn't put manipulation past him right now, considering his erratic disposition as of late. "I haven't seen you since—"

"Since you screwed up my investigation?" An anger flares in your chest at the petname, you don't feel anything like his baby right now.

At the accusation, his tone hardens. "I was hoping to talk."

"I don't want to talk." Your sharp pronunciation is a dead giveaway to your adverse opinion of him currently. "There's a reason you were fired then, and your re-introduction today does not look good for your future employment. You'll understand if we're less friendly the next time you trespass on a restricted area." With the warning, you toss him forward, and he stumbles through the gate.

He rounds. As expressionless as a suit can be, you've learned his body language like the back of your hand. He's frustrated. The way his shoulders square, and his fists form at his sides, you can tell he's getting fed up.

"That's how it's gonna be?"

"That's how it's gonna be." you confirm.

[ryuzakistoe]

Empty Crown (Michael Kaiser x Fem!reader)

Angst, angst with no happy ending (sadly), mentioning of Kaisers past, fem!reader, Michael Kaiser, language, sports journalist {reader}, intimate kissing, smuttt, finger fucking, breast fucking, bedroom sex, body pleasure/worship, manipulation kink, vaginal sex and the usual smut stuff, arguing

a/n: I've seen a bunch of Kaiser edits on my fyp recently so…

I think this is longer than my Sae one i believe. Also its kind of hard trying to keep Kaiser from being ooc..

_______

(no song either)

She had always been captivated by the idea of uncovering a player's true feelings—their raw, unfiltered intentions. It wasn’t just the game that intrigued her but the psychology behind it: how they felt under pressure, how they prepared for battle, how they devised strategies to secure victory. It was a puzzle she never tired of solving. 

Her career had already brought her face-to-face with some of the biggest names in sports, particularly soccer. But today, she was in Germany, seated across from a man whose reputation transcended the field—a man known as "God's Chosen Emperor." To say she found him fascinating would be a gross understatement. 

But her curiosity wasn’t limited to the shiny veneer of titles or the glory his name commanded. No, what truly intrigued her was the truth lurking behind the gilded facade. Who was he beneath the crown? What did his victories cost him? What emotions stirred beneath that composed exterior?

He smirked, his confidence radiating like an aura, as his piercing eyes studied her from across the table. His gaze flickered briefly to the pen in her hand, moving in sharp, deliberate strokes as she jotted down notes in the folder resting on her lap. The room crackled with an unspoken tension—one born of his arrogance and her relentless pursuit of the truth.

"So, Kaiser—or should I say Michael Kaiser—how does the excitement, the thrill of making those goals with that inhuman kick of yours, make you feel on the field?" she asked, her tone even but her eyes sharp. She lifted her head, her gaze locking onto him with purpose as her pen hovered just above the paper, poised to catch every word. 

Kaiser leaned back in his chair, his grin widening, as though the question was a cue for him to bask in his own legend. Of course, it felt good—no, better than good. For the self-proclaimed "king" of the pitch, every goal was another piece moved in his personal game of chess. Every calculated strike, every triumphant roar of the crowd was proof of his dominion. Confidence, skill, and a charm that bordered on arrogance made him untouchable, both on and off the field. 

He thrived on the adoration of fans, the envy of rivals, and the weight of the crown he so proudly wore. Each goal was a reminder of his superiority, a validation of his reign. So naturally, they brought him pleasure.

"Y/n L/n, wasn’t it?" he said, his voice smooth, laced with the kind of pride that made his name synonymous with greatness. His smile, sharp and practiced, creased his eyes as he leaned forward slightly. "To answer your question, those goals feel... exhilarating," he said, drawing out the word like it was a secret only he truly understood. 

Her brow arched, curiosity gleaming in her eyes. "Exhilarating, you say? And how, exactly, does that feel for someone like you?" she pressed, her tone deceptively casual. 

Kaiser chuckled, his grin deepening. This was a game he was all too familiar with—a battle of wits as much as words. And just like on the field, he had no intention of losing.

Kaiser leaned back into the chair with an air of effortless confidence. "Exhilarating in a way that makes me feel exemplary, of course," he said, his voice smooth, almost lazy, as if the answer was obvious. "Like I'm the only one on the field, and all the lights are directed at me." His words carried the weight of someone who thrived on being the center of the universe.

Y/n nodded, her pen gliding swiftly across the paper as she recorded his response. "Do you believe you’re the only one capable of such outstanding goals?" she asked, her tone neutral but her eyes sharp, gauging his reaction.

Kaiser’s grin widened, his signature arrogance gleaming like a polished trophy. "Well, of course," he replied, as if the question itself was redundant.

She hummed thoughtfully, acknowledging his answer while continuing to write. Then, after a calculated pause, she glanced up. "Say... people have been wondering. Why did you start playing soccer? Was it just a childhood hobby that turned into a career, or was there something deeper behind it?"

For the briefest moment, his smirk faltered. It was subtle—almost imperceptible—but not to her. She caught it instantly, her keen eye trained to spot the cracks beneath even the most carefully constructed facades. This was why she thrived in her line of work: not for the surface-level answers, but for the truths that slipped through the gaps, the ones people didn’t mean to reveal.

She lived for the unraveling. For the moments when masks slipped and raw humanity peeked through, unguarded. Truths that couldn’t be packaged for headlines or social media clout. Truths that even the interviewee might not fully recognize until they heard themselves say it.

She waited, her pen hovering, her silence a subtle push. Would Kaiser retreat behind his armor of arrogance, or would he crack under the weight of her question?

She was relentless. Every question, every glance, was calculated. She didn’t just want answers—she wanted the truth. The person beneath the accolades and bravado. To her, interviews were more than conversations; they were excavations. And if breaking someone’s polished exterior was what it took to uncover their real identity, she was willing to do it.

That fleeting crack in Kaiser’s smirk had barely formed before it repaired itself, his composure snapping back into place. "I guess it was just a childhood game I grew to enjoy," he said smoothly. "Well, it was the only thing I did enjoy back in my childhood years."

She tilted her head slightly, her eyes narrowing in subtle curiosity. "The only thing you enjoyed back then? How so?" she asked, her voice light, but her intent razor-sharp.

Kaiser’s grin didn’t waver, but there was something guarded in the way he adjusted his posture. He was a master of deception, a pathological liar wrapped in layers of charm and self-assuredness. Few could see through the dense fog of lies he spun. At first glance, he appeared invincible—strong, untouchable. But beneath the sheen of arrogance lay a man who feared vulnerability more than failure. A man who had built walls so high, even he seemed unsure what lay behind them.

Crossing one leg over the other, he leaned back, his elbow propped on the armrest, his hand resting against his cheek as though the question was of little consequence. "It was just something I found fun," he replied, his tone casual, practiced. "The cool tricks I saw—and later mastered—with the soccer ball never failed to impress me. It kept me inspired, in a way."

Her pen paused mid-stroke, her gaze never leaving him. His answer was polished, the kind of response that would satisfy most interviewers. But she wasn’t most interviewers. The careful detachment in his tone, the calculated ease of his posture—it was all too perfect. Too rehearsed.  

She leaned forward slightly, her pen hovering over the page. "Inspired?" she echoed softly, her voice carrying the kind of weight that dared him to elaborate. She didn’t need to push hard; the cracks in his mask were already there. All she had to do was wait.

Y/N’s pen moved steadily across the page, her practiced precision unbroken. Yet something about his tone, his carefully curated demeanor, set off a quiet alarm in her mind. The answer he gave wasn’t wrong, exactly, but it felt... off. She couldn’t pinpoint what it was, but it didn’t sit right.  

She prided herself on her ability to read people, to sift through the layers of their words and find the truths buried underneath. So why was the man in front of her so hard to decipher?  

Her hand froze mid-sentence as her brows knit together in thought, her sharp eyes narrowing as she studied him, trying to unravel the threads of his performance. But after a brief moment, she resumed writing, forcing herself to focus, even as her instincts whispered that something was being deliberately concealed.  

Unbeknownst to her, Kaiser’s gaze remained fixed on her, his grin widening ever so slightly with each passing second. Amusement flickered in his eyes like a spark threatening to ignite. He could tell she was struggling, and he loved it. Watching someone so perceptive, someone with a reputation for cracking even the toughest facades, falter in his presence? It was thrilling.  

Kaiser thrived on this—on games, on control, on keeping everyone around him unbalanced. He’d done his homework on her, of course. Well, technically, his "buddy" had. He knew all about the headlines she’d made, exposing the untold truths of players far less guarded than he was. She was clever, skilled, and dangerously persistent.  

But Kaiser was no ordinary interview subject. He had perfected the art of manipulation, and one thing he relished above all else was the sport of toying with people. Watching them scramble, watching them doubt themselves, only to realize too late that he’d been pulling the strings all along.  

And right now? The woman in front of him was another game he intended to win.  

He relished the feeling of holding people in the palm of his hand, their pride crumbling beneath his calculated words. There was a unique satisfaction in breaking egos, in bending others to his will. Control wasn’t just a tool to him—it was an art form. And soon, he decided, Y/N would be another masterpiece in his growing collection.  

But she wasn’t so easily swayed. A faint shake of her head seemed to clear whatever troubled thoughts had momentarily clouded her focus. Her pen stilled, and her eyes locked onto his, sharp and unyielding. "So, Kaiser," she began, her tone precise, cutting through the air like a blade. "It’s impossible not to notice how you’ve surpassed and crushed your rivals. But tell me, do you ever get tired of playing the villain?"  

Her question struck like a well-placed shot, catching him off guard. For a moment, the silence between them stretched taut. He didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he studied her, his eyes narrowing as if she were a puzzle he hadn’t yet solved. Then, as the tension reached its peak, a grin broke across his previously expressionless face, slow and deliberate.  

"No," he said finally, his voice low but firm. "Never."  

He took pride in being the villain in other people’s stories. To him, the title was a badge of honor, a mark of his ability to dominate and destroy. Being the villain gave him permission—no, purpose—to crush people without restraint. To watch their downfall unfold, step by step, especially when he was the architect of their demise.  

His grin deepened, his eyes gleaming with a dangerous amusement. "The villain," he continued, leaning forward slightly, "always wins in the end, don’t you think?"  

༻♕༺

Kaiser tilted his head back, the cool water cascading down his throat as he chugged the bottle Ness had handed him. His Adam’s apple bobbed with each swallow, and when he was done, he let out a satisfied sigh, setting the bottle down with a soft clink.  

"That girl... she’s annoyingly perceptive," he muttered, almost to himself.  

Ness, seated beside him on the bench overlooking the empty football field, turned his head sharply at the comment. His brows furrowed. "Girl? You mean that journalist from earlier?" he asked, his tone tinged with curiosity.  

Kaiser hummed in response, his gaze fixed on the field as if the game were still unfolding in his mind. "Yeah, her."  

For a moment, Ness hesitated, his teeth worrying at the inside of his cheek. He debated whether to ask the question lingering on his mind. Finally, he caved, his voice quieter than before. "What... what do you mean by ‘annoyingly perceptive’?"  

Kaiser didn’t answer right away. His eyes flicked toward Ness, studying him briefly before turning back to the horizon. A small smirk tugged at the corners of his lips, a flicker of amusement and unease mingling in his expression.  

"She might just figure me out," he said, his voice carrying a rare hint of vulnerability beneath the usual confidence. His smirk deepened as he added, almost as an afterthought, "My past, I mean."  

Ness blinked, caught off guard by the admission. Kaiser never talked about his past—it was a subject shrouded in mystery, just like the man himself. He opened his mouth to press further but hesitated, the weight of Kaiser’s words lingering between them like an unspoken challenge.  

Ness’s eyes widened at Kaiser’s response, panic flickering across his face. "B-but Kaiser, wouldn’t that be bad? She could expose you! What if she digs up all your personal information and reveals it to the public—"

"You don’t think I know that, Ness?" Kaiser interrupted smoothly, his smirk remaining intact. If anything, it only widened.  

A soft chuckle escaped his lips as he turned to face Ness, amusement dancing in his eyes. "Don’t you get it, Ness? It’ll be fun."  

Ness blinked, his growing unease evident in the way his shoulders stiffened. "Kaiser…"  

But Kaiser wasn’t finished. His voice carried an almost playful edge, one that made Ness’s skin crawl. "It’ll be entertaining to watch someone so desperate try to figure me out. And even more fun to lead her astray—with nothing but lies."  

Ness remained silent, his lips pressed into a thin line. He knew better than to interrupt when Kaiser was on a roll.  

"I’ll manipulate her," Kaiser continued, his tone almost gleeful. "Toy with her, twist her perception until she doesn’t know what’s real anymore. I’ll use her like a puppet, feeding her one lie after another, watching as she clings to every word."  

He laughed, the sound low and rich, as though the thought alone was enough to entertain him. The image of Y/N caught in his web, entirely at his mercy, sent a thrill through him.  

"Wouldn’t that be exhilarating, Ness?" he asked, his voice carrying a dangerous undercurrent.  

Ness swallowed hard, unsure how to respond. The gleam in Kaiser’s eyes was unsettling, and though he knew better than to challenge him, a quiet unease settled in the pit of his stomach.

Ness swallowed hard, the lump in his throat refusing to go down. The way Kaiser looked at him—eyes alight with excitement, yet darkened by something almost sinister—sent a chill crawling up his spine. The sheer thrill Kaiser seemed to derive from his schemes was unnerving, but Ness knew better than to voice his discomfort.  

All he could do was nod. Agreeing with Kaiser’s antics, no matter how twisted, was easier than opposing him. He’d long since learned that resistance only amused Kaiser further.  

It had been a while since Ness had seen his idol take such a keen interest in something—or, more accurately, someone. Kaiser rarely fixated on individuals; people were disposable to him, fleeting sources of entertainment at best. But now, it seemed, he’d found a new toy.  

Ness’s stomach churned at the thought. He’d seen it before: the way Kaiser broke people down, piece by piece, until they were little more than playthings to him. And yet, this time felt different. There was a dangerous spark in Kaiser’s eyes, an almost childlike glee at the prospect of unraveling someone so clever, so perceptive.  

It wouldn’t be long now. Kaiser’s newest "interest" would soon find themselves caught in his web, and Ness could already foresee the chaos that would follow.

༻♕༺

He always knew where she’d be. Her schedule, the events she’d attend—it was all too easy to track. With that knowledge in his back pocket, he’d find her in the crowd, scanning for her familiar figure among the sea of faces, certain she was either there or just a few steps away.  

It was strange, he thought. Putting in this much effort for someone—it wasn’t his usual style. But something about her, something about the way she moved through the world, made it impossible not to seek her out.  

And today, she was at a press conference. Of course, he’d be there too.

Kaiser approached her quietly, his footsteps soft as the press conference wrapped up, the chatter of departing attendees filling the air. She was engaged in conversation with someone—an individual who radiated importance. The man wore a sharp suit and tie, paired with glasses from an expensive brand, and a watch that spoke of wealth and status. He practically screamed high-profile.  

Kaiser tapped her shoulder lightly, interrupting their exchange, and she immediately turned to face him.  

Their eyes met, and what struck him was the lack of surprise in her gaze. There was no shock, no flurry of confusion—just calm recognition, as though she’d been expecting him all along.  

She wasn’t blind. She had seen him at every event she attended, at first dismissing it as coincidence. But now, after so many encounters, she could no longer deny the truth.  

Kaiser had been following her.  

Y/N knew what that meant. She knew that no one in their right mind stalked someone without a reason. And she was certain Kaiser didn’t do anything without a purpose. Whatever game he was playing, she knew she was a part of it.

Y/N’s curiosity burned brighter than ever. She was determined to uncover Kaiser’s intentions, to see what game he was playing this time.  

"Kaiser, it's great to see you," she said with a calm smile, her attention fully on him now.  

Kaiser’s smirk only deepened at her greeting. "I can say the same thing, Ms. Journalist," he teased, his voice smooth and laced with a playful challenge.  

He studied her, his eyes raking over her with deliberate intent. She was attractive, no doubt about it. But Kaiser’s mind was on something else entirely. Her appearance didn’t matter to him in this moment; his goal was simpler—to get under her skin, to make her unravel, to watch her crumble before him.  

"Would you look at you?" He took a step closer, his tone shifting to something more dangerous. "You look irresistible, Ms. Y/N."  

The words hung in the air as he leaned in, inching ever closer, his presence all-consuming. "Are you trying to seduce the men here? If so, it’s working," he murmured, his breath grazing her ear.  

Y/N’s eyebrow arched, but she didn’t flinch. Instead, she took a step back, putting some distance between them. She wasn’t intimidated. She knew Kaiser all too well—his charm, his power over people. He could have anyone kneel before him in seconds, and it was the one thing he loved to brag about.  

But she was perceptive of him. She’d seen through his games before. She wasn’t about to let him win that easily.

A small laugh escaped her lips, and she shook her head, amusement dancing in her eyes. "Sorry, Kaiser. That’s not going to work on me."  

For the briefest moment, his teasing smirk faltered, replaced by a pout that almost seemed forced. "That’s a shame. I really thought you’d fall for my compliments," he said, his grin returning in full force. "How could I help myself? You look very... tasty," he added, emphasizing the last word with a playful gleam in his eyes.  

She laughed again, shaking her head at his antics. "That’s all you know how to do, huh? Flirt. You’re so used to having people fall at your feet that you don’t know how to have a real conversation, do you?"  

Kaiser’s smirk returned, wider this time, his gaze sharpening with a flicker of admiration for the way she held her ground. "Oh, you wound me, Y/N," he said dramatically, placing a hand over his heart as if her words had struck him deeply.  

This was a new record for Kaiser. Out of all the people he’d spoken to, she was the only one who didn’t get swept up in his charm. The only one who didn’t fawn over him. And it intrigued him. Never before had he felt this kind of genuine interest in a conversation.  

What was even more surprising was that he hadn’t once grown bored. Their interactions, especially the ones where he accidentally bumped into her, were becoming more engaging with every exchange. This one, in particular, was the most stimulating yet. And that only fueled his curiosity even more.

_______

Bit by bit, Kaiser began to lower his guard around her, the cracks in his facade growing wider with every interaction. Unknowingly, he allowed Y/N to catch glimpses of the man beneath the crown—fragments of a person that few ever saw.  

And despite every instinct telling her to walk away, Y/N found herself inexplicably drawn to him. She knew who he was, what he represented. She understood the chaos that swirled around his world, the power he wielded, and the danger that came with being entangled in it. Yet, despite that, she couldn’t tear herself away.  

She had her reasons, of course. The first, and most obvious, was the truth—the truth that lay just beneath his carefully constructed mask. The truth that had eluded her for so long, no matter how many times she tried to unravel it.  

But there was something else, something she couldn’t quite pinpoint. A pull, a magnetic force that seemed to draw her in. It wasn’t just his looks, nor his sharp, confident personality. She’d encountered countless famous men, men just as attractive, just as bold. And yet, none had ever affected her this way.  

Y/N wasn’t sure if it was the sensation he gave her—the way he made her feel like she was the only one in the room, like she was a part of something dangerous and exhilarating. It was a feeling that both thrilled and unnerved her. But there it was, undeniable. She was tethered to him in a way that made no sense, and that fact alone was enough to keep her coming back.

So, she was left with only one conclusion: the sensation he left her with. A strange, undeniable craving for more. It was an odd feeling, something that gnawed at her insides with an intensity she couldn’t quite understand.  

But deep down, she knew it wasn’t just that. There was something else—something beneath the surface that kept her tethered to him, something that made her unable to look away. What was it about him that had this hold on her? What was it that made her so drawn to him, despite knowing all the risks?  

The answers she sought would come, sooner than she anticipated. After the press conference, everything changed.

From that night onward, they grew closer. Closer than she had ever expected. Their interactions shifted from professional to personal, the banter, the snarky retorts, becoming a comfortable rhythm between them.  

The facades they’d both so carefully built began to crack, slowly, piece by piece, until there was little left to hide behind. And as the walls came down, the truth—about him, about her—started to reveal itself in ways neither of them had anticipated.

༻♕༺

The cold seeped into her bones, a biting winter chill that seemed to freeze everything around her. But it wasn’t just the weather. No, the real cold came from something far deeper.  

Y/N stood behind him, her eyes reflecting a mixture of pity and disbelief. She had never seen him like this—vulnerable, shaken, a far cry from the confident, unshakable man she was used to.  

It was a rare loss, one that had taken more from him than anyone could have anticipated. A loss that had clearly left its mark, its weight pressing down on him in ways he couldn’t hide. The toll it had taken on him was evident in every tense line of his posture, every stiff breath he took.  

This wasn’t just a defeat—it was something far more personal. And for the first time, Y/N wondered if he would ever be the same again.

The cold bit at her skin, sharp and unforgiving, the air heavy with the weight of winter. But it wasn’t just the chill of the season that made everything feel frozen. It was the coldness of something deeper, a loss that had struck like an icy gust of wind, leaving everything in its wake distant and hollow.  

This wasn’t just any loss—it was rare. And it had taken more than just the game from him. It had cost him something personal, something she could feel even without knowing the full extent of it.  

The match had ended hours ago, but Kaiser remained. Alone. Silent. His figure barely visible in the fading light of the pitch, his usual confidence stripped away.  

With every step she took toward him, the cold seemed to grow sharper, more furious, as if it was fighting her approach. But she didn’t stop. Even as it felt like she was wading through a blizzard, Y/N pressed on.  

Finally, she stood closer to him, close enough to see his face—or what little of it she could. His head hung low, his hair casting shadows that obscured his expression.  

When she finally caught a glimpse, her breath caught in her throat. It was a look she was unfamiliar with, one that didn’t belong to the Kaiser she knew. It was raw, unguarded—something close to defeat, but deeper, more complicated than just that. And for the first time, Y/N wondered if the man she had been chasing after was even the person he pretended to be.

He looked like a shell of himself. Empty.  

For the first time, Kaiser appeared as though he had lost everything—not just the match, but something far more profound. To him, this wasn’t just a game lost; this was personal. His team had lost. He had lost. And that shattered the very foundation of his pride.  

Losing wasn’t a part of his world. It wasn’t even something that registered in his vocabulary.  

So when the final whistle blew and his team was declared defeated, it wasn’t just a score—it was a rupture in everything he believed. He shattered. The loss was far more than the scoreboard. It meant he was a failure, and that idea cut deeper than any defeat ever could.  

Y/N could see the pain in his eyes, the kind of raw agony that an emperor, someone so used to control and dominance, rarely allowed anyone to witness. It was a vulnerability she wasn’t prepared for.  

That’s when it hit her—Kaiser was no longer the man who ruled the field, untouchable and arrogant. He was just a person, fragile and broken.  

Her heart clenched in her chest. She hadn’t expected to feel sympathy for him, but there it was, overwhelming.  

Without thinking, she stepped closer. "Kaiser..." Her voice was soft, almost hesitant, a note of concern breaking through her usual sharpness.

The words barely registered in Kaiser’s mind, but the tone did. It was different from the usual sharpness he was accustomed to. When he spared a glance at Y/N, it wasn’t the smirk or the arrogance he often wore in her presence—it was something far more guarded. But at least she knew he acknowledged her.  

"Kaiser, talk to me." Her voice was quieter this time, more insistent.  

Y/N had never expected to care for him this way. For so long, her focus had been solely on uncovering the truth, on peeling back the layers of the man who intrigued and frustrated her. But with every moment spent near him, the answers she sought only seemed to deepen the mystery. And now, in this strange moment, she found herself questioning something else entirely: Did he care about her, too?  

But Kaiser didn’t respond. He remained as still as stone, his silence speaking volumes. His mind was a battlefield—on one side, the urge to push her away, to demand she leave him in peace. On the other, an inexplicable resistance to that very thought.  

The inner conflict tore at him. His jaw clenched so tightly that the muscles in his face twitched. The only outward sign of his internal struggle.  

He was furious—furious at the loss, at the feeling of vulnerability she seemed to evoke, at the strange mix of emotions swirling in his chest. Confusion clouded his eyes, and for once, Kaiser found himself at a loss.  

He didn’t know what to do. He didn’t know what she wanted from him. And he certainly didn’t know what he wanted from her.

"I hate this."

Y/N’s heart skipped a beat at the words, the vulnerability in his voice catching her off guard. Finally, after all the silence, he spoke.  

"Hate what, Kaiser?" she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. She wasn’t even sure what she was asking—she just needed him to respond, to break the suffocating silence between them.  

"I hate what I'm feeling right now." His voice was softer now, almost as if he didn’t want anyone to hear it. His head drooped even further, his posture slumped under the weight of something far heavier than just the game.  

Y/N’s eyes softened as she watched him, her heart tugging painfully. She felt an overwhelming sense of sympathy for him, but at the same time, she felt helpless. What could she do? Every time she tried to reach out, he shut her down, pushing her away with his walls.  

She had seen it all—the game, the way the light in his eyes dimmed with each passing moment, the defeat that seemed to crush him. It was a rare sight, this version of Kaiser. The one who wasn’t so certain, so untouchable.  

"It’ll get better, Kaiser. I swear," she said quietly, almost pleading with him to hear her, to believe in her words.  

But a small scoff escaped his lips, laced with annoyance and something darker—frustration, confusion. "How? How can it get better, Y/N?" he snapped, his voice sharp.

A frown tugged at Y/N's lips as she watched him. "The feelings are temporary, Kaiser. I know it feels like shit right now, but it won't last. You did great, regardless—and for that, I’m proud. Others are, too, I think—"

But before she could finish, Kaiser interrupted her, his words cutting through the air with an edge that startled her. "Did you know I hate losing?"  

Y/N blinked, her breath catching slightly at his tone. But he didn’t stop.  

"I hate losing, not because it hurts my pride," he continued, his voice steady but laced with something deeper, darker. "But because it reminds me that everything—this, my career, my reputation—can disappear in an instant."  

He paused for a moment, as if gathering his thoughts, and then, more quietly, he added, "It brings back the memories of the old me. It’s like reliving the past all over again. All the way back to my old household… back to how useless I was. I was pathetic. I was nothing."  

His words hung in the air, heavy and raw. Y/N’s eyes widened just for a fraction, the weight of his confession settling over her. She quickly masked her surprise, but something inside her stirred.  

This was new. Kaiser had never spoken like this before. He had never let her—or anyone—see beneath the mask he wore so carefully.  

And for the first time, she felt the barrier he had placed between himself and the world—the one that had kept his true feelings locked away—begin to crack. She could see it. She could feel it.  

Her heart swelled with something she couldn’t quite name. It wasn’t pity. It wasn’t sympathy. It was something deeper—something that made her want to keep listening, keep understanding.  

This was the truth she had searched for. The truth she had wanted to uncover all along. The one that had eluded her, hiding behind all the layers Kaiser had carefully constructed. And now, for the first time, she was seeing it for what it truly was.

But now wasn’t the time to dwell on the emotions swirling inside her.

“I despise losing in a way too, Kaiser,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.

Kaiser’s gaze shifted to hers, catching her off guard. She wasn’t sure what to expect from him, but she wasn’t expecting this—this quiet attentiveness. This was the first time she had seen him focus on her with such intent.

“I hate that losing against people who are far more superior than me takes such a huge toll on me,” she continued, her words flowing slowly, as if each one carried more weight than the last. “It’s like I’ll never measure up in a world dominated by people who are better.”

His entire attention was on her now. She could feel it. And for some strange reason, it eased the tension that had been building in her chest. It felt… calming to know that, for once, someone else understood. Even if it was just in this small moment.

"I’ve always feared the people who were better—who were born with gifts I could never surpass," she said, her voice softening with each word. “But I always fucking hated that about myself,” she whispered, the words carrying an undertone of self-loathing she hadn’t shared with anyone before.

Y/n gritted her teeth slightly, her eyes narrowing in a mix of regret and frustration. The vulnerability was almost suffocating, but it was real. It was raw. And in this moment, she wasn’t afraid to show it.

Kaiser noticed the shift in her expression—the self-hate she had felt earlier now seemed to dissipate, replaced by something more complex, something that caught him off guard. It was the same surprise that stirred within him.

"It bothered me so much, the fact that I always managed to push myself down at any given moment when I saw someone even just the slightest bit better than me," she continued, her voice steady, though it carried a weight. "It made me feel even more worthless than I really was. All I did was force myself into believing I was lower than everyone else when, in reality, I was so much more than that."

She finally lifted her gaze to meet his. It wasn’t the confusion he was used to seeing. No, this time she held his stare with something softer—something almost vulnerable. He found himself looking at her with a kind of admiration, something unfamiliar to him, mixed with a flicker of surprise.

"Y/n," he mumbled, his voice no longer tinged with irritation, but instead with a curiosity that mirrored his feelings. "I don’t want to see the same thing in you, Kaiser," she added, her words a quiet confession that hit him harder than he expected. "It bothers me so much when I see someone making themselves feel like shit."

Her admission stilled him, and his chest tightened at the rawness of her words. "I didn’t want to see what I went through in your eyes."

Her words hung in the air, and for a moment, he felt a shift—a shift in the way his heart pounded. Did she care for him? The thought was almost foreign, but the possibility of it lodged itself deep within him. Someone who cared. For him.

The realization made his chest ache in a way he couldn’t explain. It was an emotion he hadn’t quite known how to process, but it was there, undeniable and consuming.

Kaiser’s heart raced as he asked the question, though he already knew the answer—or so he thought. "Y/n, do you... care?"

It was blunt, direct. He needed an answer, even if it hurt him further. The silence that followed stretched, thick with unspoken thoughts.

Y/n froze, her eyes searching for an answer within herself, and that’s when it hit her—she cared. All the confusion, the uncertainty, the strange pull toward him… it all made sense now. Those feelings she had tried to unravel earlier, they were tied to this simple, yet profound word.

Care.

The realization crashed over her. That was it. That was why her heart felt heavy. Why she couldn’t tear herself away from him. Yes, it was hard to believe, hard to admit, but in that moment, it was undeniable.

She cared. 

For Michael Kaiser. 

The word fit perfectly. It was the missing piece that made everything click. It felt right. Perfect, even.

She didn’t hesitate this time, her voice softer than before. "I do, Kaiser, I really do."

It was enough. That simple truth was all Kaiser needed to hear. For the first time in what felt like forever, someone—anyone—cared for him. The weight of her words settled into his chest, filling a space he didn’t know had been empty for so long.

And in that moment, it felt like a dream come true. Like he could finally exhale, like he was at peace. At rest.

Someone cared for him. The thought alone made his heart ache in a way he wasn’t used to, the tenderness stirring deep within. His eyes softened, losing the usual sharpness that defined him. 

There was no smirk now. Instead, a smile—a real, unguarded smile—replaced it. It was subtle, but it was there. 

He took a step toward her, then another, until the space between them dwindled to nearly nothing. She could feel his presence, so close now that her heart began to race with uncertainty and anticipation. It was like the world had quieted around them, and everything he was—everything he had hidden—was on the brink of being laid bare. 

Just for today, he told himself. Just for today, his guard would be lowered. Just for today, he would let the mask fall.

His chest tightened with something more than nervousness—something that felt raw and unspoken. A pull, a need, an undeniable feeling that screamed at him to take action.

And surprisingly, he didn’t hesitate. He didn’t force his body to stop. For once, he didn’t fight against it. 

Now, in this moment, he realized the truth—he cared for her too. And he wanted her to care for him forever. 

He took that final step. The one that closed the distance between them, the step that meant everything. The step that brought them together, on the edge of something neither of them had expected, but both knew would change everything.

He reached up, his hand gently cupping her chin, guiding her face toward his. His eyes locked onto hers, searching for something, anything—confirmation of what they both already knew. 

Her eyes, wide and vulnerable, spoke the truth without words. They were everything she had just confessed. And then, his gaze dropped lower. Her lips—soft, full, and so inviting—pulled him in, a magnetic force he couldn’t resist even if he wanted to. They were perfect. Delicious. Everything he never thought he'd want, yet now couldn't imagine living without.

He studied her entire face, her entire being, drinking in every detail. And in that moment, he realized he was lost. Completely. And it was all Y/n’s fault.

He didn’t think, didn’t hesitate. He was caught in a trance, a deep desire bubbling up, leaving him no choice but to close the distance between them. His lips crashed against hers, a sudden, urgent kiss that left no room for words.

The shock was mutual, taking them both by surprise. Kaiser, usually so in control, found himself caught in the rush of emotions he had never expected. And Y/n—she couldn’t process it at first. But that hesitation lasted mere seconds.

Without missing a beat, she responded, mirroring the intensity he had brought to her. Their lips moved together, desperate and passionate, as if they had been waiting for this moment all along.

Kaiser's lips claimed Y/n's with a fervor that was both tender and dominating, their mouths aligning in a rhythm as natural and inevitable as the tides. Each passing second saw their kiss deepen, growing more intimate, more passionate, more consuming. It was as if their lips had been sculpted by the gods themselves, destined to fit only against each other.

Kaiser's strong hand gripped Y/n's chin, holding her fast as he plundered her mouth with increasing aggression. She gasped, a shocked murmur escaping her, and he seized the opportunity to delve inside, his tongue invading and conquering. It twined around hers, dominating, possessing, staking his claim.

A breathy, needful groan spilled from Y/n's lips, a sound of surrender and submission. Kaiser felt a surge of male pride, a dark satisfaction at reducing this proud woman to such a state with naught but a kiss. She was his, utterly his, and he reveled in his power over her.

His grip tightened, fingers sinking into the soft flesh of her jaw as he angled her head to deepen the kiss yet further. He would have her, all of her. He would lay siege to her every defense until she yielded completely. And he would enjoy every moment of conquering her, body and soul

Kaiser's earlier anger had dissipated like the morning mist under the scorching sun, leaving no trace behind. All that remained was a burning desire, a hunger to unravel the woman in his arms, to make her unravel for him. His hands gripped her waist, pulling her flush against him, trapping her soft, pliant body against the hard planes of his own. She was a delicate doll, a plaything for him to manipulate and enjoy as he saw fit. His doll, his prize, his possession. And he would guard his treasure jealously.

He broke the kiss, only to catch his breath for the briefest of moments before his mouth was back on hers, claiming, conquering, consuming. She was a woman possessed, lost in the haze of sensation, unable to break away from the addictive pull of his lips. Her hum of acquiescence, trapped between their joined mouths, only spurred him on further.

"Your enjoying this aren't you?" Kaiser murmured, his voice a low, teasing rumble. He didn't wait for a response, his lips latching onto hers once more as if to swallow any protest. She was addicted, he could feel it, could taste it on the sweetness of her breath. And like any addict, she would crave more, would need more. He would make certain of it.

Kaiser's palm skimmed over the curve of Y/n's hip, squeezing and caressing, igniting sparks beneath her skin. Each pass of his hand stoked the flames of his desire, the kiss growing ever more fervent, ever more consuming. He reveled in her surrender, in the way she melted so sweetly against him, a puppet dancing on his strings.

But it was more than her submission that ignited the beast within him. It was the raw, primal satisfaction of seeing his actions, his touch, his very presence eliciting such a response. She was a canvas, and he was the artist, painting her reactions with every brushstroke of his desire.

Her need to continue the kiss, to lose herself in his embrace, only fueled his own burning hunger. He could feel it, the pull, the ache, the desperation. She craved him, yearned for him, and he would feed that hunger, that yearning, that desperation. He would be her addiction, her poison, her reason for breath.

Kaiser broke the kiss abruptly, leaving her lips hovering, searching, aching for his touch. Her eyes, hazy with desire, sought his own, a plea swirling in their depths. She tried to close the scant distance between them, to recapture his lips, but he pulled back, a wicked gleam in his eye.

Confusion clouded her gaze, warring with the need, the want, the undeniable desire. He had her on the cusp, teetering on the edge of something terrifying and thrilling. She was his puppet, and he held the strings, ready to dance her to his tune

Y/n stared at Kaiser, his name falling from her lips in a breathless question. As her gaze met his, she felt the weight of his desire, hot and heavy, pressing down upon her like a physical touch. She felt laid bare, stripped of all defenses, as exposed as if she stood naked before him. His eyes blazed with a madness, a hunger that made her heart stutter in her chest.

"Kaiser," she breathed, a flicker of uncertainty in her tone. But before she could voice any protest, he was already moving, his large hand engulfing her own, pulling her towards his waiting vehicle.

She stumbled slightly, caught off guard by his urgency, his insistence. But he didn't give her time to compose herself, to steel her nerves. No, he was already ushering her into the passenger seat, the cool leather of the car interior a shock against her flushed skin.

The door slammed shut with a resounding finality, sealing them both inside the confines of the luxurious vehicle. Kaiser slid into the driver's seat, his presence commanding, dominating the space. She could feel the tension radiating off him, the coiled energy, the barely restrained desire.

He didn't say a word, didn't bother with pleasantries or explanations. He simply engaged the ignition, the engine roaring to life with a throaty purr. And then they were moving, the car surging forward with a burst of speed that pressed Y/n back against her seat.

She had no idea where he was taking her, no concept of their destination. But it mattered not. All that consumed her thoughts, all that mattered, was the promise of what was to come. The completion of what they had begun.

The car pulled to a halt, and before she could blink, Kaiser was there, opening her door, his hand outstretched to assist her exit. She stepped out into the cool night air, her heels clicking against the pavement as she gazed up at the imposing structure before them.

It was a house, a grand and opulent affair that spoke of wealth and privilege. Of course, it made sense. Kaiser was a man of means, a famous athlete who had amassed a fortune through his talents and dedication. And now, he was inviting her into his inner sanctum, his private domain.

He led her towards the imposing front door, his hand a brand at the small of her back

Y/n found herself powerless to resist as Kaiser's iron grip tightened around her waist, propelling her forward into the cavernous entrance of his estate. The door slammed shut behind them with a resounding bang, sealing them off from the world outside, leaving them alone in the charged atmosphere that crackled between them.

Before she could catch her breath, Kaiser had her pinned against the door, his hard, muscular body caging her in, his lips claiming hers in a searing, urgent kiss. A startled gasp escaped her, only to be swallowed by Kaiser's hungry mouth as it moved demandingly against her own.

Her fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt, clinging to him, anchoring herself against the onslaught of sensation. Her lips, as if possessed of a will of their own, softened and yielded to his, falling into a rhythm that matched his own. She met him kiss for kiss, desire for desire, her body melting bonelessly against the hard planes of his own.

Kaiser's calloused hands, rough and textured from years of gripping balls and battling opponents, skimmed over the soft, sensitive skin of her waist. They fit her curves as if she had been sculpted to his touch, his hands a perfect mold for her body. His fingers tightened, squeezing the soft flesh, marking her as his own.

"Kaiser..." His name left her lips in a breathless whisper, a sound of surrender and need. The way it echoed in the grand foyer, a testament to her submission, sent a shiver down Kaiser's spine. This woman, this exquisite creature, was undone by his touch, his kiss, his very presence. And he reveled in the power of it, the heady rush of knowing he could bring such a strong woman to her knees with a mere touch.

He plunged his tongue past the seam of her lips, delving deep, conquering, claiming, possessing. She tasted of honey and sin, and he couldn't get enough. He wanted to drown in her, to lose himself in the sweet oblivion of her mouth, of her body.

The need that surged through him at the sound of her breathless whisper, the way it made his skin prickle and his blood burn, was as terrifying as it was exhilarating. She was doing this to him, unraveling him, just as he was unraveling her.

Kaiser felt the weight of her whispered plea, the way it settled heavily in his chest, igniting a primal urge within him. The sound of his name on her lips, the desperation in her tone, stirred something dark and possessive deep inside him. In that moment, his sole desire was to see her bow down before him, to make her submit completely to his will. He wanted her to remember only one name, only one identity: Michael Kaiser. He wanted to be her god, her master, her everything.

A smirk tugged at his lips, felt rather than seen, as a low, sensual chuckle slipped between their joined mouths. "Let's take it further," he murmured, his voice a rumble of promise and dark intent. "Yeah?" It was a command more than a question, a decree that brooked no argument.

His hands slid from her waist to the backs of her thighs, squeezing the firm, toned flesh. In a fluid, effortless motion, he lifted her, silently demanding her cooperation, her obedience. And to his satisfaction, she complied without hesitation, without a moment's doubt.

Her legs wrapped around his waist. Kaiser groaned into the kiss, the feeling of her body pressed so intimately against his own stoking the flames of his desire to new heights. He could feel her heartbeat pulsing against his chest, could feel the heat of her core pressing insistently against his abdomen.

Blindly, his eyes still locked with hers, Kaiser carried her through the darkened halls of his estate. He didn't need to see where he was going, trusting his memory, his instincts, to guide them to their destination. The bedroom loomed before them, a spacious and opulent affair, the grand four-poster bed dominating the center of the room.

He carried her to the edge of the bed, his lips never breaking the heated kiss, his tongue still plundering the sweet recesses of her mouth. Only when the backs of her knees hit the mattress did he reluctantly withdraw, his breath harsh and ragged as he gazed down at her with a look of pure, unadulterated hunger.

"You're mine," he growled, his voice a low, possessive rumble.

Kaiser loomed over Y/n, his powerful frame pinning her delicate one to the luxurious bed. His hands roamed her curves with a boldness born of desire and possession, mapping out the terrain of her body as if he were a conqueror claiming new land. She was utterly at his mercy, trapped beneath him, a willing captive to his touch.

Soft, breathy moans spilled from her lips, a symphony of pleasure that sang to his ego, stroking his pride. Each touch, each caress, sent her spiraling further into a world of sensation, craving more, needing more. He could feel it, the way her body responded to his, the way it yearned for his touch like a flower turning towards the sun. She was his, utterly and completely, and he reveled in the knowledge.

A growl of pure male satisfaction rumbled in his chest as he hooked his fingers under the hem of her shirt. Slowly, deliberately, he began to lift it, revealing inch after tantalizing inch of the smooth, silky skin beneath. She didn't protest, didn't try to stop him. No, she wanted this as much as he did, her body singing with the same desperate need that consumed him.

He didn't bother asking permission, knowing it was unnecessary. He could see it in her eyes, feel it in the way she arched into his touch. She was his, and he would take what was his.

With a swift, decisive motion, he whipped her shirt over her head, tossing it carelessly to the floor. His breath caught in his throat as he drank in the sight of her, his gaze raking over her half-naked form with a hunger that bordered on reverent.

There she lay, a vision of feminine perfection, her ample breasts encased in the delicate lace of her bra. A bra that, like everything else about her, seemed to have been made just for him. He could not look away, could not tear his gaze from the exquisite beauty before him.

She was a woman he had grown accustomed to, a woman who understood him like no other. A woman who had become his everything, his reason, his obsession. She was his dog, his plaything, his treasure. And he would enjoy every single moment of possessing her, of owning her, of claiming her as his own

Kaiser's hands found their destined home as he deftly unfastened the hook of Y/n's bra, the last flimsy barrier between them falling away. With a sense of purpose, he peeled the delicate lace away, revealing the glorious expanse of her breasts to his hungry gaze.

He stood there, admiring her, drinking in the breathtaking sight of her upper body laid bare before him. Her breasts were perfect, full and ripe, begging to be touched, to be worshipped. And touch them he did, his large hands finding their way to cup the soft, pliant flesh, his fingers sinking into the giving softness.

"Y/n..." he murmured, his voice rough with desire and awe, "you're fucking beautiful." His eyes raked over her body, taking in every dip and curve, committing every inch to memory. She was a work of art, a goddess, a vision of pure feminine perfection.

Unable to resist, he brushed his thumb over the peak of her nipple, watching as it puckered and tightened at his touch. A breathy, needful grunt spilled from Y/n's lips, a sound that went straight to his groin, stoking the flames of his desire.

Kaiser grinned, a fierce, possessive grin of pure male satisfaction. He had power over her, absolute control, and he reveled in it. He could make her feel, make her react, make her crave. And he loved every single second of it.

His lips crashed against hers once more, his kiss aggressive, demanding, conquering. His tongue delved into her mouth, sliding against hers, stroking, tasting, claiming. He drank down her moans, her whimpers, her cries of pleasure, each one fueling the inferno that raged within him.

As he plundered her mouth, his thumb continued its assault on her sensitive nipple, rolling and pinching, tugging and teasing. Her body bowed off the bed, arching into his touch, silently begging for more. And more he would give her, more he would take from her. He would have her begging, pleading, screaming his name until it was the only word she knew, the only prayer on her lips.

Kaiser's hand blazed a trail of fire down Y/n's torso, his calloused fingers leaving goosebumps in their wake. The heat of his touch contrasted deliciously with the cool air of the room, sending shivers of pleasure racing down her spine. She arched into his caress, a breathy moan escaping her lips at the exquisite sensation.

His hand found the waistband of her pants, and with a decisive tug, he gripped the fabric, his intent clear. But before he could act on it, his mouth tore away from hers, leaving her lips feeling suddenly bereft and cold. A needful whimper escaped her at the loss, her body aching for his touch, his warmth.

But that whimper quickly turned into a loud, wanton moan as Kaiser's lips found the sensitive skin of her neck. He nipped and sucked at the delicate flesh, leaving a trail of marks, of bruises, of brands. He was claiming her, marking her, making her his in the most primal way possible.

His mouth trailed lower, over the swell of her collarbone, down the valley between her breasts. And then, without warning or hesitation, he took her nipple into his mouth, his tongue swirling around the sensitive peak before he began to suck.

A sharp cry tore from Y/n's throat, her back bowing off the bed as pleasure exploded through her. Instinctively, she clapped a hand over her mouth, trying to muffle the shameless sounds of her desire. But that action only served to anger Kaiser, to spark a fierce surge of irritation within him.

His mouth released her nipple with a lewd pop, the sound echoing obscenely in the charged air of the room. His eyes flashed with a dangerous light as he glared down at her, his tone shifting from seductive to harsh in an instant.

"Who told you to cover your fucking mouth, huh?" he growled, his voice a low, threatening rumble. "You think you're being loud? I'll make you even fucking louder." His smirk returned, wider and more wicked than before, a promise of pleasure bordering on pain. He meant every word, and she would feel the weight of his intent in every kiss, every touch, every breathless cry that tore from her throat.

Kaiser's hand shifted, his fingers finding the button of Y/n's pants with unerring accuracy. With a deft flick of his wrist, he unbuttoned the fabric, the sound of the release echoing in the charged air. Without hesitation, without giving her a moment to catch her breath, he tore the pants down her legs, tossing them carelessly to the floor.

And there she lay, a debauched vision in the dim light of the room, clad in only her soaked panties. The damp stain was unmistakable, a testament to her arousal, her desire, her desperate need. Kaiser felt a fierce surge of pride, of possessiveness, knowing that he was the sole reason for her current state. He had done this to her, had brought her to this point of desperation, and he would revel in every moment of it.

His eyes raked over her body, taking in every inch of exposed skin, lingering on the damp patch that darkened her panties. They were wild, crazed with a lust that bordered on madness. In the dimness of the room, Y/n could see the aura of desire swirling in their depths, could feel the weight of his gaze boring into her very soul.

"Already wet, huh?" he growled, his voice a low, rough rumble that sent shivers down her spine. "And you weren't even fully naked." His finger hooked into the band of her panties, the flimsy fabric stretching taut against her skin.

Slowly, torturously, he began to pull them down, the action agonizing in its deliberate slowness. He was teasing her, keeping her waiting, denying her the pleasure she so desperately craved. His eyes never left hers, watching as her body squirmed beneath his touch, watching as she fought the urge to beg, to plead, to demand.

The sheets crumpled beneath Y/n's gripping fingers, the fabric twisting and bunching as she clung to them in desperation. Her hips lifted off the bed, seeking more of his touch, craving the relief only he could give her.

"Kaiser..." she whined, her voice high and breathless, a sound of pure, unadulterated need. "Don't tease me like that. Just...fuck, hurry up." It was a plea, a desperate, wanton plea for him to take her.

Kaiser's lips curled into a wicked smirk at Y/n's desperate plea, a sound of pure, unadulterated need. He chuckled, a low, dark sound that rumbled through his chest, as he continued his tortuous descent, his fingers toying with the delicate fabric of her panties.

"Teasing?" he murmured, his breath hot against her skin, "I'm just getting you ready for what's to come." With a final, sharp tug, he peeled the soaked fabric down her thighs, the cool air kissing her overheated skin as he exposed her fully to his hungry gaze.

Y/n shivered, her body instinctively trying to close, to hide, to protect her most intimate place. But Kaiser was having none of it. His hand clamped around her knee, his fingers digging into the soft flesh as he forced her legs apart, baring her glistening sex to his appreciative eyes.

"Don't you dare," he growled, his voice a low, commanding rumble. "You're not allowed to hide from me, Y/n. Not now, not ever." His gaze raked over her dripping folds, taking in the sight of her arousal, the proof of her desire. He could barely contain himself, barely restrain the primal urge to bury himself inside her heat and claim her, ruin her, make her his.

Unable to resist any longer, he traced a teasing finger over her clit, circling the sensitive nub, feeling it throb and pulse beneath his touch. Y/n squirmed beneath him, her hips lifting, seeking more, craving more. She was at his mercy, completely under his control, a puppet dancing on the strings of his desire.

A throaty grunt escaped Kaiser's lips as he felt her wetness coat his finger, her body welcoming him, inviting him inside. Without warning, he plunged his finger deep into her tight, clutching heat, a loud, wanton moan tearing from Y/n's throat as she arched beneath him.

"Fuck, Y/n," he groaned, his voice strained with the effort of holding back, of not taking her right then and there. "You're so fucking tight. So fucking perfect." He pumped his finger in and out of her, feeling her walls flutter and clench around the invading digit, her body instinctively trying to draw him deeper, to keep him inside her.

Kaiser's fingers continued their relentless assault on Y/n's dripping core, plunging in and out of her tight, clasping heat. The obscene sound of his digits pumping through her slick arousal filled the room, a lewd symphony of their coupling. He could feel her velvety walls gripping him, fluttering, clenching, as if trying to keep him inside her.

"So fucking tight," he breathed out, his voice rough with desire and appreciation. Unable to resist the urge to feel more of her, he forced a second finger into her tight channel, stretching her, filling her, claiming her. His long, skilled fingers reached that sweet spot deep inside her, the one that made her see stars, that made her cry out in ecstasy.

Y/n's moans filled the air, a beautiful, erotic melody that sang to Kaiser's soul. Each pleasured sound she made, each whimper and mewl, only spurred him on, making him want to wring more from her, to make her scream his name until it was the only word she knew.

"Fuck-Kaiser you're still clothed —" Y/n managed to gasp out between the waves of pleasure crashing over her. Her voice was high, breathless, a sound of frustration and longing.

Kaiser paused, his fingers still buried deep inside her, as his gaze flicked over his own body. She was right, of course. While she lay bare and exposed beneath him, he was still clothed, still covered in the layers of fabric that separated his skin from hers.

A small, mocking laugh left his lips as he met her gaze, his eyes glinting with amusement and dark promise. "You want to see me naked too, hmm?" he murmured, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Consider it a reward for being so good."

Kaiser's hands gripped the hem of his undershirt and jersey, the fabric stretching taut against his broad shoulders. With a swift, decisive movement, he peeled them both off in one go, tossing them carelessly to the floor. His chest was a work of art, each muscle sculpted and defined, the hard planes and ridges a testament to years of discipline and training. In the dim light of the room, Y/n could see every contour, every line, the way his skin seemed to glow as if illuminated by an otherworldly source.

Next, he hooked his thumbs into the waistband of his shorts and socks, shimmying them down his powerful legs with an ease that spoke of long practice. His cleats were already discarded, left forgotten by the door, and now the rest of his lower half was bared to Y/n's hungry gaze.

Y/n's eyes raked over his body, taking in every inch of exposed skin, every toned muscle that rippled beneath the surface. He looked ethereal, a god made flesh, a king sitting upon his throne. She could hardly believe that such a perfect specimen of manhood existed outside of myth and legend.

Her gaze traveled down, over the defined lines of his abdomen, the V-lines that disappeared teasingly into the waistband of his boxers. The only fabric left, the last barrier between her and his complete nudity. She could see the bulge of his arousal straining against the confines of his underwear, could feel the heat of his desire radiating off him in waves.

Y/n’s eyes widened, her mouth hanging at the sight of him, at the promise of what was to come. She ached to touch him, to run her hands over his skin, to feel the power coiled in his muscles. She wanted to worship him, to make him feel as good as he made her feel.

But more than that, she needed him. Needed to feel his skin against hers, needed to be filled, claimed, owned by him completely. She was already naked, already bared to him in every way possible. It wasn't fair that he still had one last scrap of clothing separating them.

Kaiser chuckled, a low, rich sound that rumbled through his chest and vibrated against Y/n's skin. He reveled in the effect he had on her, the way her eyes widened and darkened with desire as they roamed over his naked form. It was a heady feeling, knowing that he could reduce her to this state, could make her crave him with such desperate intensity.

"C'mon, don't tell me you're nervous now?" he teased, his body crawling over hers, his hands coming to rest on her thighs. He held himself up, his muscular arms flexing with the effort, as he gazed down at her with a wicked, mocking grin.

His palms began to rub up and down her thighs, the rough skin of his hands a delicious contrast to the smoothness of her own. Y/n bit back a whimper as he intentional brushed over her sensitive clit, the fleeting touch sending sparks of pleasure shooting up her spine.

"Nervous? You're funny," she scoffed, trying to maintain some semblance of control even as her body betrayed her true feelings. Kaiser raised an eyebrow at her bravado, a smirk playing about his lips.

"In a situation like this, it's not very smart to talk back," he murmured, his voice a low, warning rumble. But Y/n could see the glint of amusement in his eyes, could tell that he enjoyed the back-and-forth, the challenge.

She glared up at him, her chin set at a defiant angle even as her heart raced in her chest. As much as she tried to deny it, Y/n couldn't help but feel a thrill of excitement at being at the mercy of this powerful, dominant man. The power dynamic between them thrilled her in a way she had never experienced before.

"Let's continue, yeah?" Kaiser murmured, his lips brushing against hers in a teasing promise of a kiss. Y/n's breath hitched in her throat, her body arching up towards him, seeking more of his touch, more of his heat.

She knew she should be nervous, should be intimidated by the raw power and hunger she saw in his eyes. But instead, she felt a corresponding surge of desire, a need to meet his passion with her own. She wanted to see how far they could push each other, wanted to explore the depths of pleasure and ecstasy.

Y/n let out a small grunt, her body trembling with anticipation and need as Kaiser's hands continued their sensual exploration of her curves. The kiss deepened, adding fuel to the fire that raged within her, stoking the flames of her desire until she felt they might consume her entirely.

She could feel the knot forming in her lower belly, the ache of emptiness that could only be filled by one thing. By him. By Kaiser. She needed him inside her, needed to feel his hard length stretching her, claiming her, completing her.

"Kaiser..." she breathed out, the name falling from her lips like a prayer, a plea. She was drowning in sensation, in the heat and hardness of his body pressing against her own, and she needed an anchor, needed something to tether her to reality.

Kaiser broke the kiss, his eyes dark and hungry as he leaned back. His hands fiddled with the waistband of his boxers, and Y/n eagerly sat up, wanting to see, needing to witness the final reveal. She had to know, had to see all of him, had to drink in the sight of Kaiser in all his naked glory.

"Eager are we?" he lowly chuckled, a smirk playing about his lips as he slowly, teasingly, began to tug down his underwear. Inch by torturous inch, he revealed the base of his cock, and Y/n's breath caught in her throat, her heart pounding wildly against her ribs.

She gulped as more of his impressive length was revealed, the thick veins and ridges clearly visible, the hard flesh throbbing with his arousal. He was so big, so much bigger than she had imagined, and the sight of him made her mouth water and her core clench with need.

Kaiser kicked his boxers away, tossing them carelessly to the floor. And then he was climbing over her, his naked body covering her own, his hard length pressing against her lower belly. She could feel the heat of him, the weight and power of him, and it made her feel small and feminine and desperately, achingly empty.

"You want this just as bad as I do, right?" Kaiser asked, his voice a low, rough murmur. His hand rested on the dip of her hip, his fingers sinking into the soft flesh possessively.

"Yes... I want it just as bad," Y/n confirmed, her voice breathless and high with need.

Y/n let out a guttural moan as Kaiser's thick, hard length speared into her, filling her in one powerful thrust. Her back arched off the bed, her nails digging into his shoulders as she was stretched and filled and claimed completely. The suddenness of it stole her breath, left her gasping and panting, her lungs burning for air.

"Oh god, Kaiser!" she cried out, her voice a mix of surprise, pleasure and need. She could feel every ridge, every vein, every throbbing inch of him pulsing inside her, stretching her walls to their limit. It was almost too much, almost painfully intense, but she never wanted it to end.

Kaiser groaned, a deep, low sound that rumbled through his chest and vibrated against Y/n's skin. He threw his head back, a look of pure, unadulterated bliss on his face as he savored the feel of Y/n's tight, wet heat enveloping his aching cock. Her walls gripped him like a vice, fluttering and clenching around his shaft, as if trying to draw him even deeper.

He gripped her hips, his fingers sinking into the soft flesh hard enough to leave bruises. It grounded him, anchored him, kept him from losing himself completely in the overwhelming pleasure of finally being inside her.

"Ready, Y/n?" Kaiser asked, his voice a low, rough rasp. He tilted his head down to meet her gaze, a wicked smirk playing about his lips as he took in the sight of her flushed cheeks, the sweat drops dotting her forehead, the red hue spreading across her skin.

Y/n could only nod, too lost in sensation to form words. But Kaiser wanted more, wanted to hear her say it, to give voice to her desire.

"I told you I needed words, didn't I?" he huffed, his tone a mix of teasing and demand. His lips moved to the side of Y/n's neck, his warm breath ghosting over her skin, making her shiver and tremble beneath him.

"Yes Kaiser," Y/n breathed out, her voice a needful whimper. "Yes, I'm ready. Please, please..." She didn't even know what she was begging for, only that she needed more. More of him, more of this, more of everything.

Kaiser grinned down at Y/n, his eyes glinting with a mix of triumph and dark promise. "That wasn't so hard, was it?" he murmured, his voice a low, teasing rasp. "I'll have you bowing down to me soon enough, like the needy little peasant you are, Y/n."

He rocked his hips back, his hard length sliding out of her dripping sex until only the tip remained nestled inside. Y/n whimpered at the sudden emptiness, her walls clenching around the head of his cock, trying to keep him inside. But Kaiser was having none of that. With a sharp grin, he slammed back into her, burying himself to the hilt in one brutal thrust.

Y/n cried out loud moans, the sound tearing from her throat as pleasure bordered on pain. Tears sprang to her eyes, the intensity of the sensation overwhelming her. Kaiser groaned, a low, guttural sound that spoke of his own pleasure and need. Her walls were so tight, gripping him like a velvet vise, the wet heat of her sex coating his shaft, making the glide easier even as it clenched and fluttered around him.

He set a brutal pace, pounding into her with deep, powerful strokes. The room filled with the obscene sound of skin slapping against skin, with Y/n's needful cries and Kaiser's harsh grunts and groans. He was taking her hard, claiming her, marking her, staking his ownership of her body and soul.

"Fuck, Y/n," Kaiser growled, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of her hips, no doubt leaving bruises in their wake. "You feel fucking incredible. So fucking tight and wet and perfect."

He leaned down, his lips brushing against the shell of her ear, his voice a low, dark murmur. "I'm going to ruin you for anyone else. No one else will ever make you feel this good, will ever fuck you like I can. You're mine now, Y/n. My perfect little toy to use as I please."

Kaiser punctuated his words with a sharp thrust, grinding his hips against hers, his pelvis pressing against her sensitive clit. Y/n keened, a high, breathless sound of pure pleasure, her body arching up to meet his.

Kaiser growled in feral satisfaction as Y/n wrapped her legs around him, giving him an even deeper, clearer angle to plunge into her. His hips snapped forward with renewed vigor, each powerful thrust striking that perfect spot deep inside her that made stars explode behind her eyelids.

"Fuck, Y/n!" Kaiser groaned, his voice a low, guttural rumble. "Scream for me, let me hear how good it feels. Fucking scream my name!"

His movements grew more intense, more demanding, the force of his thrusts shaking the bed beneath them. The obscene sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, mingling with their escalating moans and cries. Kaiser was relentless, pounding into Y/n with a single-minded focus on her pleasure and his own.

"Fuck, you're squeezing me so tight," Kaiser grunted, his fingers digging into the flesh of her hips, no doubt leaving vivid bruises in their wake. "Your cunt is gripping my cock like it never wants to let me go. Fuck, I can feel you throbbing around me, begging for more."

He leaned down, his lips finding the sensitive spot just below her ear, his teeth sinking into the tender skin. "That's it, take it all like a good little slut. Take every fucking inch of my cock. This is what you were made for, Y/n. To be a warm, wet hole for me to use as I please."

Kaiser punctuated his filthy words with a sharp, brutal thrust, grinding his pelvis against Y/n's clit, the rough friction sending bolts of electricity zinging up her spine. Y/n could only scream, could only let the pleasure consume her as Kaiser fucked her with wild abandon, chasing their mutual release with single-minded intensity.

Y/n's nails raked down Kaiser's back, leaving red lines of pleasure-pain in their wake. She couldn't help but claw at him, needed an anchor, something to ground her as the intense sensations threatened to sweep her away. It felt too good, too overwhelming, too much like drowning in a sea of ecstasy.

Tears streamed down her face, pouring from her eyes as her body trembled and quaked beneath Kaiser's relentless assault. She could feel the coil of tension in her belly winding tighter and tighter, the knot of pleasure growing bigger, more insistent with each passing second.

"Kaiser... I'm close," Y/n managed to whimper out between ragged breaths and broken moans. Her voice was high, thready, a needful keen that spoke of her impending release.

Kaiser could only nod, his jaw clenched tight, his eyes dark and wild as he gazed down at Y/n. He was close too, teetering on the edge of his own climax, the pleasure gripping him like a vice. But he pushed through it, determined to bring Y/n to the heights of bliss before seeking his own.

"Almost there," Kaiser grunted, his thrusts growing sloppy, his rhythm faltering as he chased their shared release. He was enjoying this, reveling in the way Y/n's body squeezed and fluttered around him, the way her cries of pleasure filled the air.

A few more deep, powerful thrusts, and then Y/n was coming undone. Her head tipped back, her eyes rolling up in sheer bliss, her body convulsing beneath Kaiser as her orgasm crashed over her. Her fluids gushed out around his pistoning cock, coating him, dripping down onto the sheets.

Kaiser couldn't hold back any longer. With a hoarse cry of Y/n's name, he pulled out just as his own climax hit him like a freight train. His seed erupted from his cock, painting Y/n's lower abdomen with thick, hot ropes of his release. He shuddered and groaned, his body jerking with the force of his intense orgasm.

Heavy breaths lingered in the still air, the only sound that filled the space between them. Both of them were still catching their breath, their bodies spent from the intensity of what had just transpired. The silence was almost deafening, yet neither of them seemed to want to break it.

Kaiser finally collapsed onto the side of the bed, his body sinking into the soft sheets with a low exhale. "Fuck..." he muttered, his voice strained, and his eyes staring up at the ceiling as he tried to calm the rapid beating of his heart.

Y/n remained still, her own chest rising and falling with each shaky breath, her thoughts swirling as she tried to make sense of the whirlwind that had just unfolded. It had happened so quickly, so intensely, that she felt as though she couldn’t fully grasp the reality of it. She hadn’t expected to feel this... overwhelmed.

Her gaze drifted to him. Kaiser’s bare chest heaved up and down, glistening slightly in the dim light of the room, his usual arrogance softened for the moment. There was something about the vulnerability in his expression now, the way his sharp features seemed more relaxed, that struck her in a way she hadn’t anticipated. She hadn’t expected to see this side of him, especially not after everything they had shared.

Slowly, she turned her head, her eyes locking with his. His blue gaze met hers, intense and burning with a quiet intensity that made her heart flutter unexpectedly. There was a flicker of something deeper in those eyes—something she hadn’t seen before. He smirked then, though it wasn’t his usual cocky grin. It was different, softer. “Didn’t know you had it in you, Y/n,” he teased, his voice low and husky.

Her heart skipped a beat, and she couldn’t look away from him. The way the light caught his face, the way his features softened in the aftermath of their connection—it made her breath catch in her throat. Kaiser, with all his arrogance and power, looked... beautiful in that moment. Vulnerable, almost raw. She hadn’t expected to see him this way, and yet it pulled something in her that she couldn’t deny.

There was something about the way he lay there, his body still warm and flushed, his chest rising and falling in time with hers. The silence between them was heavy, charged, and it made her feel like she was caught between two worlds—one where she was just the journalist trying to uncover the truth, and the other where the truth had just shifted in ways she didn’t fully understand.

Kaiser, too, felt it. His heart thudded in his chest, though it wasn’t out of anger or frustration this time. No, this felt... different. Her presence, her eyes on him, it was like nothing he’d ever experienced. A quiet ache settled in his chest, but it wasn’t a painful one. It was almost as if his heart was beating in rhythm with hers, and he couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt something so... real.

Kaiser couldn’t afford to lose focus now. His goal was clear, his mind set. He was going to make Y/n break before him, piece by piece. Like shards of glass, he would walk over her, feeling the satisfying crunch of her resolve shattering under his weight. She had become a challenge, a puzzle he had every intention of solving in his own twisted way.

He needed to see her bow to him, to crumble under the weight of his control. She had become nothing more than a pawn in his game—an object he could manipulate at will, a doll to be twisted and molded. But all dolls, no matter how beautiful, eventually lost their shine. They aged, wore down, and lost the spark that made them desirable. And like any owner of such a toy, he would discard her when she no longer served a purpose. He would use her—hold her close, make her his submissive, obedient lover. He would keep her under his thumb until there was nothing left of her but a hollow shell of the woman she once was.

That was his goal. And it was all that mattered right now. But as he watched her, there was something nagging at him—a strange pull he couldn’t ignore. Something flickered in the depths of his chest, unsettling him for a brief moment. But he pushed it down quickly. No distractions.

What about Y/n? What was *her* goal? 

Y/n’s goal was far different. She hadn’t forgotten what had brought her here—what had driven her to this point. The truth. The elusive truth that seemed buried beneath his walls. She would get it. No matter what it took, she would uncover the man behind the mask. Even if it meant breaking him. Even if it meant pushing him to the very edge of himself. 

She couldn’t let herself falter. She had promised herself she would get the truth, no matter the cost. She knew it wouldn’t be easy, but it was worth it. 

However, deep down, she understood that it might be more complicated than she had first imagined. Kaiser was unpredictable, dangerous, and far more manipulative than she had given him credit for. But she had to try. She had to push forward. Even if she was playing with fire, even if it burned her in the process. It was the only way she would ever get to the heart of who Kaiser really was.

And as their paths collided, both of them were on the edge of something neither was fully prepared for.

Who knows, she might just get lucky.

She had already gathered enough intel—enough pieces of Kaiser's carefully constructed persona to build a story. More than enough to expose him, to rip the mask off and unveil the ruthless, complicated man he really was. A paper revealing his true nature would make waves—she was certain of that. Every word, every detail she had gathered felt like a potential key to unlock the final truths he was so desperate to hide. 

But that night, that moment of intimacy, what did it really mean? Did the sex they shared mean nothing in the grand scheme of things? Were they just swept away in the heat of the moment? Maybe it was just an impulse for both of them. Or maybe, it was something more—but right now, neither of them cared enough to dwell on it.

It wasn’t on the top of their priorities. Not now. 

For Kaiser, the goal was simple: to mold her into another loyal, subservient piece in his world. A filthy dog, obedient and at his beck and call. He wanted to control her, twist her into something he could possess—just like he had done with so many before her. He was used to having people bow to him, obey him, and now, Y/n was no different. The power struggle had only just begun.

But for Y/n, her focus was fixed elsewhere. She wasn’t concerned with the intricacies of his twisted games or his domineering desires. She cared only about one thing—getting the truth. The real man beneath the arrogance, the lies, the carefully constructed walls. The truth that had always been just out of reach. She wasn’t afraid to push him, to break through those defenses. She would squeeze the truth out of him, no matter how much she had to endure. That was the prize she sought, the only thing that mattered in this dangerous dance they were caught in.

Both of them had their objectives. And neither of them would stop until they achieved them.

༻♔༺

The grip around his phone tightened as a searing sense of disbelief coursed through him. How? How had this happened? How had she—*she*—managed to slip from his grasp, just when he thought he had her fully under control? 

That night... it should have been the turning point, the moment he solidified his hold over her. Didn't she already prove her loyalty to him? Didn’t she beg for more, didn’t she give in to him in a way that made her his, body and soul? Hadn't he already made her submit, wrapping her around his finger like it was nothing?

So what had changed? What had shifted in that brief moment, in the aftermath of all that power he had over her? 

Kaiser’s heart dropped in his chest. His eyes burned as they scanned the article before him. Reading those words felt like a punch to the gut, a reminder of everything he had fought so hard to bury. The words weren’t just an attack—they were a mirror, showing him the parts of himself he’d rather stay hidden. The article, no doubt penned by her, exposed everything: his drive for perfection, the way he had always lived in the shadow of his father’s expectations, the years of feeling like second-best in his own home. 

His teeth clenched so tightly it hurt. He wasn’t just angry—he was furious. But it wasn’t only anger that churned in his stomach. There was a gnawing anxiety, a sickening feeling that perhaps he hadn’t been as in control as he thought. The walls he had so carefully constructed were beginning to crumble, and there was no one to blame but himself.

He glanced back down at his phone, his eyes scanning the title again, as though hoping he had misread it. But no. The words were still there, mocking him. *"THE TRUTH ABOUT THE FAMOUS MICHAEL KAISER HAS BEEN REVEALED!?"*

The question mark seemed to echo in his mind. How could she have done this? How had she pulled it off? 

His world, carefully crafted and meticulously managed, was unraveling. And Y/n was the one holding the thread.

How had she gotten her hands on this? The question drilled into Kaiser’s mind as he racked his brain, trying to piece together the only possible answers. The only time he had opened up, the only time he had let his guard down—was that night on the football pitch. 

That night, when everything had slipped from his grasp.

He had confided in her, exposed pieces of himself that he kept hidden from the world. His anger, his frustration, the deep-rooted pain that had been festering for years—he had told her everything. 

And now, this? This betrayal? It was too much. His body tensed, muscles straining with fury as his veins popped, bulging out of his forearms and neck, as his grip tightened around his phone.

"Ill fucking kill her," he muttered under his breath, the words dripping with venom.

Ness, who had been nearby, instinctively stepped closer, sensing the shift in Kaiser’s mood. His voice came out in a shaky whisper, filled with concern. "Kaiser? There’s no need... just try to relax. We’ll figure out another solution—"

"Relax?" A dark chuckle rumbled from Kaiser’s throat, a sound that sent a chill down Ness's spine. Kaiser’s head tilted to meet his gaze, the look in his eyes sharp and cold. "Are you out of your mind, Ness?" His voice was thick with menace.

Ness swallowed hard, his throat dry. He knew better than most what happened when Kaiser was pushed too far—he’d seen the chaos, the destruction. Kaiser was a force, and when his anger was unleashed, there was no telling where it would go.

Kaiser scoffed, the sound sharp and bitter. Without sparing Ness another glance, he tore his gaze away and stared down at the phone once more, fury burning in his chest. "I’m going to find her," he muttered, his tone deadly quiet.

Ness’s eyes widened, panic rising in his throat. "Kaiser, I don’t think that’s a good idea..." His voice faltered, and he took a half-step back, fear flooding his veins.

"Who are you to tell me, Ness?" Kaiser snapped, his voice rising with barely contained rage. The words shot out of his throat, thick with anger as he glared at the other man. 

Ness stood still, his jaw clenched. He knew better than to argue with Kaiser when he was in this state—knew that continuing to push would only escalate the situation. So, he remained silent, his eyes dropping to the floor as he chose not to provoke the storm any further.

Kaiser’s footsteps were the only sound filling the room as he turned and stormed off. The sound of the door slamming behind him made Ness flinch, the sharp noise echoing through the still air.

Kaiser was gone. 

And Ness knew, without a doubt, that he wouldn’t be coming back until he got the answers he was looking for.

_______

It took less than thirty minutes for him to find her. 

For once, he didn’t have to track her down, didn’t need to follow her every move. She just happened to appear right there, walking down the same pavement he was on. It almost felt like fate had thrown him a bone. 

His eyes burned with fury as he locked onto her figure ahead. Every step he took toward her was driven by rage, and as soon as he spotted her, he didn’t hesitate. No pause. No second thoughts. He moved toward her with a single-minded purpose.

“You.” Kaiser’s voice sliced through the tense air, thick with irritation, as his glare locked onto her. 

Y/n could feel it—the suffocating heat of his anger, seeping through the space between them like a storm ready to burst. His eyes were hard, his body tense, every fiber of him radiating fury. Yet, she stood her ground, her posture unyielding. This confrontation had been inevitable. 

“What the fuck is your problem?” he snapped, his teeth gritting with each word, voice tight with barely contained rage.

“My problem?” Y/n’s lips twitched into an almost dismissive smile. “I’m just doing my job,” she said coolly, as if it wasn’t painfully obvious. 

“Your stupid job? You exposed me for what, a paycheck? To get some cheap satisfaction?” Kaiser’s words were now laced with venom, his anger flaring hotter with each second.

Y/n’s expression didn’t flicker. She was already too familiar with his temper, too accustomed to his threats. “Look, Kaiser,” she replied, her voice low but unwavering, “I know all about your little games. I know what kind of man you really are. Hell, I know who you are beneath that shiny mask you wear.”

A flash of something dark flickered in Kaiser’s eyes. His jaw clenched, and he took a step forward, his presence looming. “You don’t know shit about me, Y/n,” he growled, his voice thick with barely-contained rage.

Y/n tilted her head, studying him with an almost clinical detachment. “You’re right. I don’t. And that’s exactly why I only took what you revealed to me.” She met his gaze head-on, the weight of her words hanging in the air like a challenge. “Everything in that article? It came from you.” 

Kaiser’s fist clenched at his side, his breath coming in sharp bursts, but she didn’t flinch. She wasn’t afraid of him—at least, not in the way he thought.

His hands clenched into fists at his sides, knuckles turning white as the surge of anger built within him. "That was only a moment of weakness you found me in," Kaiser muttered, his tone sharp.

"A moment of weakness that revealed things about you," Y/n replied, her voice softer now, almost contemplative. 

Her words hit him harder than he cared to admit. She was right, and he hated it. In his moment of vulnerability, he had let down his guard, exposing himself in ways he never should have. How could he have been so stupid, so careless? He cursed himself inwardly. He had been weak, and now she had a foothold. She knew something about him—something raw, something real. And it unsettled him in a way nothing else had before. 

But what bothered him even more was how she acted like she had him all figured out. Her calm demeanor, the way she looked at him, like she saw right through him—it drove him mad. She wasn’t close to understanding him, not even remotely. She didn’t know the real him, not the one hidden under the mask. 

A small, bitter laugh escaped his lips. It was laced with annoyance, and it made Y/n raise an eyebrow, her gaze scrutinizing him.

"You use my vulnerability for some story, huh?" he scoffed, his voice dripping with contempt. "Just how pathetic are you?"

There was a flash of something deeper in his chest—a feeling of betrayal, but he couldn’t fully grasp it. It wasn’t just about the article, not really. No, there was more to it. It was the way she had used him, or so he thought. She had caught him at a weak moment and now she was going to expose it, turning his own pain into her narrative. 

Kaiser had always been in control, and now, in this moment, he felt the balance shift. He thought he had her right where he wanted her—on the verge of submission, ready to fall into his trap. But instead, she had found something he didn’t want her to see, something he wasn’t prepared to face.

For the first time, it felt like he was the one on the edge of losing control.

Kaiser stood there, his mind a storm of confusion and anger. His voice, though low, was laced with a tinge of vulnerability as he asked, "Did that night mean something to you?"

Y/n’s eyes widened at the unexpected question. She hadn’t anticipated him bringing this up—now of all times, in the middle of this confrontation. She could feel the tension thickening around them, and yet, she couldn’t avoid the truth. Her heart hammered in her chest as she struggled to find the words.

Did it mean something to her? As much as she hated to admit it... yes, it did. The more she replayed the night in her mind, the clearer it became. It wasn’t just the rivalry, nor was it the way he always seemed to have her figured out. It was everything. 

She wasn’t sure when it started. Maybe it had grown out of the rivalry that once burned between them, or perhaps it was the way he would always read her so easily, effortlessly. But what mattered now was that she had become attached to him, in a way she hadn’t expected.

That night—when they were in the same bed, the space between them so much more intimate than she had ever imagined—she realized just how much she had been paying attention to him. His every movement, every shift, every detail. She noticed things about him, things she hadn’t before. Small things, subtle things that made her chest tighten with an unfamiliar ache.

And then there was his tattoo. 

The tattoo that stood out against his skin like a piece of art carved into his very identity. A blue rose, delicate yet fierce, wrapped in thorns that traced down his arm, curving around to the back of his hand where a crown rested. The crown, like a symbol of his reign over everything around him, contrasted sharply with the softness of the rose. 

The sight of it, the way it seemed to represent both his vulnerability and his strength, lingered in her mind. That tattoo—so personal, so telling—was a glimpse into the layers of Kaiser she hadn’t even begun to fully understand. Yet it was there, in plain sight, a quiet reminder of the complexities he hid beneath his cold exterior. 

She looked at him now, knowing she couldn’t lie to herself anymore. Yes, that night meant something—more than she was willing to admit, even to herself.

Y/n took a deep breath, her eyes locked on his, her words carefully chosen as they left her lips. "Yes, it did," she answered earnestly, her voice steady yet carrying a weight of sincerity. Her gaze never faltered from his, willing him to see the truth in her eyes.

Kaiser's heart skipped a beat, and for a moment, his breath caught in his throat. It did? He couldn’t fathom it. If she truly felt that way, then why—why—had she exposed him like that? Why had she published that article, revealing everything he’d worked so hard to keep hidden? The confusion in his chest twisted into something darker. 

He was about to speak, to demand answers, but Y/n continued, her voice cutting through the tension that had built up between them.

"But it’s not in the way you think, Kaiser." 

Her words pierced the air, leaving him on edge. Kaiser stiffened, his body language tense, every fiber of his being urging him to press for more. What did she mean by that?

He couldn’t understand. All this time, he had been convinced that the only reason she was with him, or even had any interest in him, was for the story. He had thought she saw him as nothing more than a subject to uncover, a mystery to be exploited. And yet, here she was, admitting that night had meant something—but not the way he had assumed.

Y/n’s eyes narrowed slightly, but instead of answering, she turned the question back on him. "What about you, Kaiser? Did that night mean anything to you?"

He narrowed his eyes slightly, his earlier fury simmering beneath the surface, but something about her tone made him hesitate. What was she trying to say?

Kaiser didn't speak; instead, he waited, his expression a mask of impatience mixed with genuine curiosity.

Kaiser’s mind raced, the question hitting him harder than he expected. Did that night mean anything to him? He furrowed his brows, his gaze shifting as if trying to find the words that had evaded him. 

He had always prided himself on controlling his emotions, on keeping everything locked down tight. Yet, in that moment, with Y/n's eyes locked onto his, he felt something stirring inside of him—something unfamiliar, something foreign.

The dream, the one where Y/n was just another piece in his game, where she would bow to him, would surrender, was still there. But beneath that, there was something else. A fleeting warmth that he couldn’t quite grasp. Something about that night had been different. 

He felt it in the way her gaze softened when she spoke to him, in the way her touch lingered, in the way her presence seemed to affect him more than he cared to admit. 

He glanced away briefly, his mind racing, trying to piece together what it was that bothered him. The control, the power he always sought—it was still there, but it was almost overshadowed by... something else. Something he couldn’t quite define. 

And that, above all else, frustrated him. Because he didn’t like feeling unsure. He didn't like being caught off guard, especially not by someone like Y/n.

Her question hung in the air, and for a moment, he didn't speak. Instead, he watched her, trying to decipher her expression. What did she want him to say? Did she want him to admit that he felt something more than just the fantasy? 

But he couldn’t admit that—not yet, not to her.

Finally, he spoke, his voice low, almost guarded. "It meant something... but not the way you think." His words mirrored hers, but there was a tension in his tone that didn’t match the certainty in hers. 

It was her turn now to see through him, to decide if she believed him—or if he was lying to himself.

Kaiser’s gaze never left her, his eyes scanning her face as if trying to find some answer in her expression. He couldn’t help but notice the way her eyes caught the dim light, how they seemed to shimmer in the shadows. He noticed the way her hair fell loosely around her shoulders, slightly tousled, as if she hadn’t been paying attention to how she looked at all. Her breath matched his, slow and steady, but there was an underlying tension, a shift between them that was too subtle to ignore.

It frustrated him to no end that he couldn’t put a name to what he felt. It wasn’t like him. He was used to knowing exactly what he wanted, used to controlling every aspect of his life. But her—Y/n—she was the only thing that made him feel off balance, like a puzzle he couldn’t solve. 

He had always dismissed her as just another person in his orbit, someone who was part of the game. But now, it was different. He could no longer ignore the small details, the things he had overlooked before—the softness of her gaze, the way she stood, the way she carried herself. 

He shook his head, trying to push those thoughts away. This wasn’t about that. Not yet, anyway. 

To answer her question, he still wasn’t sure what he felt, and maybe he didn’t want to admit it. He couldn’t afford to—he needed control, always. So, he deflected. "I don't know. Probably not," he muttered, his voice quieter now, the anger from before beginning to dissipate.

Y/n’s eyes flickered, and for a moment, he saw a glimmer of something—disappointment, maybe. But it was gone before he could fully register it. She nodded, her hands resting at her sides, and let out a soft breath. "That’s expected," she replied, her voice calm, almost detached.

That simple acknowledgment—her acceptance of the situation—stirred something inside him, a flicker of irritation that seemed to rise again. She knew how to push his buttons, how to make him feel small even when she was being neutral. 

His frustration came rushing back, the old anger bubbling up inside him. "But that still doesn’t answer why you published that story about me," he snapped, his tone sharp now, his eyes narrowing in challenge. 

Her gaze didn’t waver, and he hated that. She wasn’t giving him the satisfaction of seeing her falter. She was too composed, too in control. But that only made him want answers more.

Kaiser’s eyes locked onto hers, his gaze intense, almost burning with frustration. She wasn’t backing down. She hadn’t given him a single shred of an answer that would satisfy him, and it infuriated him even more. She wasn’t budging, wasn’t cracking under the pressure. She just stood there, unwavering, as if his anger meant nothing.

He let out a frustrated huff, his jaw clenched. She was still sticking to the same tired excuse, and he hated it. “That’s bullshit,” he growled, his fists clenching at his sides.

Y/n sighed, her gaze shifting slightly as if she were trying to stay calm in the midst of his rising fury. She was tired of this back and forth too, but she wouldn’t give in. Not to him.

“Look, Kaiser, if you’re looking for someone to blame, it’s you,” she shot back, her voice steady, but tinged with something sharper now. “You let me in. Whether you meant to or not, you did. The truth isn’t a betrayal—it’s the one thing you’re too scared to face.”

Her words stung, and Kaiser could feel his anger flaring up again, more intense this time. “Like hell it is,” he snapped, his body moving towards her as if he couldn’t contain the boiling fury inside him anymore. His bangs fell over his eyes as he took another step forward, his proximity almost suffocating. 

She was calm, too calm, and it grated on him. He wasn’t about to let this slide, not without getting something more out of her. He was done with the charade, the bullshit. “Do you not have decency? I know there’s another reason, so stop bullshitting and just get out with it,” he demanded, his voice low and threatening.

Her expression didn’t falter, but something flickered behind her eyes—a flicker of defiance, a spark of something more. But it was fleeting.

The fire inside him flared higher, threatening to consume him whole. He wanted to break her composure, make her reveal something, anything that would give him control again. 

But Y/n didn’t let him have that. She wasn’t going to bend to his will.

“I’m not bullshitting anything, Kaiser,” she replied, her voice cold, almost emotionless. The fire she felt inside only made her more resolute. This was the truth, and he would have to accept it. She wasn’t going to let him manipulate her into something else.

Kaiser’s chest rose and fell with each breath, his frustration building, yet something in his gut twisted. He knew she wasn’t going to give him the answer he wanted, but that didn’t stop him from wanting it. The dynamic between them had shifted, and it made him uneasy. He hated that.

But Y/n? She was standing firm, and that made him even angrier.

A sharp, frustrated 'Tch' escaped from Kaiser's lips as he stared at her. He didn't want to admit it, but maybe she was right. Maybe she was just that devoted to her job. It didn’t sit well with him, though. The thought of her treating his vulnerability as nothing more than fuel for a story made him feel a knot twist tighter in his gut.

But he couldn’t allow himself to acknowledge it fully—not yet. Not when his emotions were swirling in a hurricane of rage, regret, and irritation. Betrayal. That was what it felt like. The whole damn thing felt like a betrayal. 

He had let her in, he had allowed her to see his cracks. He had been in a state where his mind was raw, open, desperate for some kind of connection, and she had been there. He thought she understood—he thought, for once, that she could see him beyond the walls he’d built. But now, he hated himself for it.

His thoughts raced back to that night. He’d felt weak, vulnerable, and yet there was a strange comfort in her presence. She had been the only one there, the only one who had seen him in his lowest, most unguarded state. But now? Now, all that felt like a mistake. A massive, unforgivable mistake.

His chest tightened as frustration clawed at him, and he clenched his fists at his sides. His anger flared with every beat of his heart. Regret gnawed at him relentlessly. He hadn’t realized how much he had truly relied on her in that moment—how much trust he had placed in her, even for just a fleeting second. It was laughable now. He couldn’t even look at her without feeling the rush of bitterness in his throat.

He scowled, eyes narrowing as he processed everything. The anger in him boiled over, yet there was still something—some nagging feeling—that wouldn’t go away. It was like a foreign sensation, one that felt… different from what he was used to.

"Those fucking annoying feelings," he muttered under his breath. That’s all he could label them for now. Annoying. Uncomfortable. Unwanted.

Kaiser couldn’t admit it yet, not to himself, and certainly not to her. He wasn’t ready to confront whatever the hell this was. He just couldn’t. It was easier to shove it aside, to focus on the anger, on the betrayal, on the hurt.

But deep down, Kaiser knew that feeling wasn’t going away. And that realization, despite the rage clouding his thoughts, only made him more unsettled. 

The argument continued, a relentless back-and-forth, neither side willing to bend. Kaiser’s denial clung to him like a shield, a fragile barrier against the truth he wasn’t ready to face. His anger flared, a smoldering fire that refused to die. Y/n, on the other hand, stood firm, unwavering in her stance, her answer never changing, no matter how many times he tried to push her. 

They were locked in a battle of wills—Kaiser, consumed by his emotions, and Y/n, resolute in her position, each too proud to give the other the satisfaction of yielding. The silence that followed the last words they exchanged felt heavier than the heated argument itself. 

Both of them were left to stand in the aftermath, unsure of what came next. The walls they had built between each other felt thicker, harder to penetrate. What had started as a connection, a mutual understanding—even an unspoken bond—now seemed like a distant memory, drowned by the weight of their words and the tension between them.

Could this broken, fractured relationship survive the collision of their worlds? Was there a way for them to move past the hurt, the betrayal, and the raw emotions that had been exposed? Or had they reached a point where this was the inevitable end?

Kaiser, his mind still buzzing with questions, couldn't help but wonder if anything could ever bridge the gap between them again. Y/n, equally torn, questioned whether it was even worth it to keep fighting for something that seemed to slip further from her grasp with every passing moment.

The future felt uncertain, a blur of unanswered questions and lingering doubt. One thing was clear though—they were both changed by this. Whatever came next, their relationship, whatever form it might take, would never be the same again.

༻♕༺

A rush of exhilaration surged through Kaiser as the ball hit the back of the net, the goal sending a wave of adrenaline flooding his veins. The stadium erupted in cheers, but for him, the applause was distant—almost insignificant compared to the fire burning inside him. This match wasn’t just another game. It had become personal.

Kaiser’s movements were sharp, reckless even. His anger, his frustration, it all came spilling out in the form of brutal tackles, calculated risks, and explosive speed. He was consumed by the thought of her, the way she had exposed him, the way she had dared to challenge him. His focus had shifted from winning to something far more dangerous—domination.

Every strike of the ball was a release, a cathartic outburst. His kick had more power, more intensity than ever before, as if he was channeling all of his unresolved emotions into each play. The world around him blurred. His mind wasn’t on the game—it was on her. 

Kaiser had a new goal now, a fresh obsession that had wormed its way into his thoughts. It wasn’t just about proving himself anymore. No, now he wanted more. He wanted her to bow to him—not just in respect, but in submission. He wanted her to plead for forgiveness, to feel the weight of her betrayal in the pit of her stomach. 

With every goal, with every play, his frustration intensified. It was as if each victory on the field brought him one step closer to breaking her down, to seeing her on her knees. It was a dangerous game he was playing—both with the ball and with his own emotions. But he couldn’t stop now. Not when he was this close to making her feel what he felt. 

The match raged on, but Kaiser’s mind was already several steps ahead, imagining the scene he would create. The ball at his feet felt almost like an extension of his will—a tool to help him gain control, not just of the game, but of everything.

A small sigh of relief escaped Kaiser's lips as the final whistle blew, signaling the end of the match. Their team had claimed victory. The tension that had gripped him throughout the game seemed to loosen, though not entirely. His mind still buzzed with restless energy, the anger he’d channeled into his performance lingering beneath the surface. But now, the chaos on the field had settled. 

As he made his way off the pitch, he saw her. There she stood, waiting, her presence like a magnet pulling his focus. For a moment, he stopped, his feet frozen, eyes narrowing as they locked onto hers. Despite the boiling frustration and resentment he felt, something else tugged at him—something that gnawed at him, unexpected and unwanted. 

A strange mix of longing curled in his chest, subtle but undeniable. It was the same feeling he’d experienced before, the one he hadn’t allowed himself to fully acknowledge. The one he hadn’t been able to label. And now, standing there, it threatened to overpower him. He wanted to look away, to push it down, but he couldn’t. The ache was growing. 

Y/n met his gaze, her expression softening, a shadow of sadness clouding her features. There was something in her eyes that spoke volumes—regret, yes, but also a deep, unspoken longing. It mirrored his own. She knew she had crossed a line, and though she tried to justify it with her job, she knew it wasn’t enough. The excuse was weak, even to her. 

Kaiser swallowed hard, trying to ignore the pull, the twisting in his gut. He shifted his gaze away, unwilling to meet it any longer. He couldn’t afford to get caught up in this mess again, not now. So instead of walking toward her, he turned, the sound of his footsteps loud in his ears as he made his way to the locker room. 

But as he walked, the ache in his chest only deepened. It was a sensation he couldn’t ignore, no matter how hard he tried. The more he distanced himself from her, the more the weight of it settled in.

༻♔༺

Months had passed, and Y/n found herself once again attending one of Kaiser's matches—this time to cover his triumphant return to form. It had been so long since they'd had a real conversation. The exchanges between them had been reduced to nothing more than fleeting glances, heavy with words unsaid. There had been no resolution, no attempt at understanding. Just silence, stretching between them like an unspoken agreement to keep their distance.

As usual, she didn’t expect him to approach her after the game. She had learned not to expect anything from him. So, she improvised. She couldn't keep avoiding him, and she couldn't let it go on like this. There had to be a proper conversation, one where words were exchanged, where truths came out. She just had to talk to him, even if it meant breaking the stillness.

It happened that after the match, he was slated to sign shirts for the fans. Kaiser had initially resisted, unwilling to participate in the post-match rituals, but his managers had insisted, practically forcing him to stay and sign memorabilia. Y/n saw her chance.

She walked up to him, her heart hammering in her chest, trying to steady her breath. His expression was unreadable, his eyes distant. From the outside, he seemed calm, almost detached, as he handed her a signed jersey. But she could see it—the subtle tension in his shoulders, the way his jaw clenched as if he were holding something back. Inside, he was struggling, as if something inside him was unraveling.

A flicker of regret flashed across Y/n’s face as she began to speak, but before she could gather her thoughts, it seemed as if Kaiser was the one breaking the silence. He spoke first, his voice quieter than she had expected, devoid of anger but filled with an unfamiliar vulnerability.

“To be honest,” he started, his gaze dropping to the floor for a moment before lifting to meet hers, “you were right about the whole thing… about me not being able to see the truth instead of the betrayal.” His voice softened, the harshness gone. “I thought winning was all I needed. But I realized something... you can't be king of an empty castle.”

His words hit her like a wave, a mix of sorrow and disbelief washing over her. She had spent months trying to ignore the ache of their unresolved tension, but in that moment, everything seemed to shift. Her chest tightened as his admission sunk in, and she found herself unable to look away from him.

Her voice cracked when she finally spoke, softer than she intended. “And I can’t love someone who only knows how to keep people at arm’s length.”

The words felt like a confession, a truth she hadn’t even fully admitted to herself until that moment. It wasn’t just about him anymore—it was about them, the space between them that had grown too wide, too unbridgeable.

Kaiser’s eyes widened, his breath catching as he heard her words. That was it. That was the word he had been searching for, the word that had been dancing around his thoughts for months. Love. 

The feelings that had plagued him, the ones he had been dismissing as mere annoyance, suddenly clicked into place. It all made sense now. He was falling in love, something he had spent his life pushing away yet finding, something he had told himself he didn’t need but craved. But now, standing here, with the truth staring him in the face, he realized it was everything he had wanted—and everything he had been too afraid to embrace.

But even in that realization, something else weighed heavily on him. It was too late. The feelings, the words, the truth—none of it could change what had already been lost. Y/n had already made her choice, and there was nothing he could do to take it back.

For a moment, Kaiser stood there, frozen, as the reality of his own heart hit him. It was a bitter, almost hollow feeling. He had spent years building walls around himself, pushing everyone away, thinking that the power, the success, the titles were enough. He thought they could fill the void. But now, looking at Y/n, he realized they never had. 

The king, the one who had always sworn to make others bow before him, now found himself bowing his head in defeat. It was a strange, painful irony. He had craved power, respect, adoration—but what he had never expected was that the one thing he truly wanted, the one thing that had eluded him all these years, was the one thing he had pushed away the hardest.

Kaiser felt the weight of his loss, the emptiness that followed the admission he had just made. In that moment, nothing else mattered. The trophies, the fame, the victories—it all seemed insignificant in the face of the one thing he couldn’t have. 

He had lost her. And no amount of titles, no number of wins, could ever bring her back.

Y/n, for her part, stood in stunned silence, her heart aching as she saw the pain in his eyes. There was nothing else to say. No words could fix this, not now, not after everything that had happened. They were both standing in the ruins of what could have been, and neither of them knew how to rebuild it. 

She took a step back, her own heart heavy with the realization that what they had could never be. Not like this. Not after all that had passed between them.

With one last look, she turned away. Kaiser stood there, watching her go, feeling the emptiness inside him grow. The silence between them was louder than any words could ever be. And in that silence, Kaiser finally understood.

༻♕༺

He watched her from a distance, his gaze following her every move as she conducted another interview with one of the players. The scene was familiar, yet it felt distant, like a memory from a past life. Despite the days that had slipped away since their last encounter, Kaiser remained a king in the eyes of the world. His crown still gleamed, his fame intact, and yet his heart carried a weight he couldn't shake. His eyes, once fierce with ambition, now lingered on Y/n with an aching mixture of regret and longing. The feelings he'd buried deep inside him seemed to claw their way to the surface every time she was near, and he couldn't escape the pull.

On the outside, no one could tell what had happened to him. The public continued to see the indomitable athlete, the ruthless champion whose titles and success overshadowed everything else. But beneath the polished exterior, a man was unraveling. The armor he wore so effortlessly could not shield him from the ache in his chest, nor could it conceal the truth he had tried to ignore. 

Y/n, on the other hand, moved through her days with a quiet determination, her heart guarded, but forever tethered to what had been. She kept the signed jersey he had given her, folded neatly in her closet, a relic of a time that felt both distant and close. It was a memory she couldn’t part with, no matter how much it pained her. She had always kept mementos—small reminders of things she wanted to hold onto—and this, despite everything, was one of them. A symbol of what had been, and what could have been. She would never throw it away. Not ever.

Though their paths had diverged, the space between them growing wider with each passing day, neither of them could escape the thoughts of the other. They remained in each other’s minds like an unspoken promise, a lingering memory of something beautiful yet broken. The past they shared hung between them, invisible yet palpable, a constant reminder of what they had and what they lost.

Kaiser remained on his throne in the stadium, ruling the field as he always had. But when it came to matters of the heart, he learned too late that even kings must face the consequences of their actions. His victories, his triumphs, came at a cost—a price he had never imagined paying. In the end, no title, no championship, could fill the emptiness left by what he had let slip through his fingers.

And Y/n? She moved forward, just as determined, just as focused—but her heart carried the weight of a loss that could never truly be healed. She had once believed in the possibility of something more, but now she knew better. Some victories come with too much sacrifice, and some battles are never meant to be won.

Both of them would carry the memory of what could have been, each in their own way, as they moved through the world. But deep down, they both knew—no matter how far apart they were, a part of them would always remain with the other.

a/n: AYGHHH HIS SEXY ASS FINALLY GOT ANIMATED FOR LIKE 10 SECONDS BUT THATS OKAY

This also took me longer than I expected. It was supposed to be published on the 25th (Kaisers bday‼️😫)

[kirishima-eijirock]

@katsuslover asked: Making katsuki jealous by talking w deku or something and he's all sulky and a baby and u show him why he's better

a/n: omg hell yessss I made it a little angsty but I hope he’s not too OOC

You narrow your eyes at the blonde sitting right in front of you. His eyes narrowed and his lips pulled into a deep frown that you’ve never seen before. Clenched fists that are slightly shaking, he glares down at the floor with such an intensity that almost frightens you. Almost.

He’s been that way for the past half an hour, with no warnings at all. It’s weird, how this morning he wasn’t giving two fucks about anyone or anything at all, and now he’s just… furious isn’t even the word to describe it. Neither is rage. This is something else, and you knew it.

“Kats, just spit it out already.”

You’ve been trying to coax an explanation out of him for the past twenty-seven minutes, and yes, you’ve been counting. He’s never hid his anger from you. Or anyone, actually. But definitely not you.

“Kats, I swear to god, if you don’t start saying anything then I’ll go back to my conversation with Midoriya—”

“Get that bastard’s name out of your mouth.”

It was a quick mumble. A short demand. A command, if you will. He’s never said shit about Midoriya with such pure hatred that it did confuse you, and you started to question if you really understood Katsuki in the first place. 

His brow furrowed and his teeth gritted, his glare shifts from the floor to your shoulder, avoiding your direct gaze. He couldn’t bring himself to glare at you, no. The last thing that he wanted to do was to direct his anger at you. You were one of the most precious people in his life, and he wasn’t gonna risk anything, much less even glaring, to fuck it up. But looking down and glaring at the floor looked utterly pathetic, too. So his eyes dart from the wall behind you, to your shoulder and neck, but never your face. You didn’t deserve that. It wasn’t your fault, either.

He knew it’s not your fault, so why did it sting so much to hear you laughing with that bastard? He didn’t get it.

“Never mind. ‘M fine. It’s nothing.”

“Kats, you can’t be mad like that and not explain yourself.”

It’s true. He knew that he owed you an explanation, and a good one. Shame crept up on him as he realised that he snapped at you. That you were on the receiving end of his anger. The promise he made to himself— to never, ever make you upset, or to ever let you feel like the reason that he’s mad— was now broken in his eyes.

“I’m… sorry. For snapping at you. It’s not your fault,” he mumbled under his breath. 

It wasn’t snapping, but he hated the fact that he still could have upset you. 

“Kats, it’s okay. I’m fine, I promise. What’s wrong? You know you can tell me anything that’s on your mind, right?”

“No, it’s nothing,” he mumbled, though it’s clear that his snapping only made him more irritated with himself.

“It’s not nothing if you’re…” you trail off, not wanting to point out the current tears in his eyes. 

“Huh? I’m what?” Still oblivious to the tears, he looked around and found nothing.

“Kats, seriously. Tell me, now.”

The firm gaze directed at him from your eyes made him freeze, and the gentle tone in your voice made him hesitate. He was surprised, to say the least, that you were still here, trying to help him while he stood there in front of you like an idiot. If you left now, he wouldn’t have been surprised. In fact, he understood why you would do that, and he couldn’t blame you. This emotional, vulnerable part of him finally showed for the first time in your relationship. 

It surprised you, just a little. You knew he hated showing emotions besides happiness and the occasional happiness, but never tears. He never cried solely in front of you, at least.

He felt weak, so… pathetic. 

And on the other hand, you were there, trying to help him and coax some coherent words out of him, before finally giving up with a sigh

“Kats, if you don’t wanna talk, then we can save that for another time. I won’t push you any further if you’re getting uncomfortable.”

He’s never felt comfort like this. Not warmth, or such gentleness either. It’s so new to him, but in the best ways that he couldn’t describe. 

What was this feeling? His heart was bittersweet now. His loathing towards Midoriya was worsening, but the sweetness in your voice was making it fade away slowly.

“I promise I’m fine,” he rasped out. 

“Okay, Kats. As long as you’re alright,” you murmured, not really pushing him to speak unless he really wanted to.

He took a deep breath, not sure how to address the issue.

“Look, I don’t know what to feel when you’re talking to that damn Deku,” he stated plainly.

“You don’t know what to feel? What are you talking about?”

“I’m not stopping you from having friends, okay? I just don’t like how giggly and shit you were with him,” he huffed.

“Well… why not?”

“It just bugs me, that’s all. Just feel like I should be the reason you’re laughing. Not him.” 

Oh. It finally clicked in your mind. He was jealous. You wanted to point it out, but it could sour his mood further, so you decided against it for the time being.

“Well, if that was the case, you could have just told me. I wouldn’t have a problem with that.”

You were too sweet, too understanding. It was hard for him to believe that he deserved it. That he deserved you. 

“Really?”

“Yes, really, Kats. You don’t need to worry that I’ll be upset, okay?” 

He nodded slowly, still not used to this amount of sincerity and care from someone.

He was never this soft, or vulnerable to anyone. You, however, were an exception. He wasn’t afraid to show it to you, and even though he wasn’t used to it, he sure as hell wasn’t complaining. 

“Thanks…” a soft mumble of thanks left his lips, happy how this confrontation went.

@angelshimaa angst for you :)))

[transformiing]

would anyone like to explain to me why they made him so pretty

[kiddiewrites]

First Post

Sooooo this is the first fanfic I write, the current obsession is Call of Duty. Have I ever played the game?? No. Am I gonna play the game? Yes, I've downloaded the mobile version :D. Do the characters match their game personality? Probably not, the only source I have of them are other fanfics and edits I saw on tiktok JAJAJAJA.

Angst, T.F.141 x reader, Platonic!T.F.141 x reader, HURT, bit of OOC T.F. 141, pining!reader, bit of a sad ending, drunk confessions, overheard conversations, PAAAAAAAIIIIN (maybe I’m just projecting Enlgish is my second language so please be kind xd

PART 2

∞ Command me to be well ∞

“There is no sweeter innocence, than our gentle sin”

In all honesty, you weren’t supposed to be there. You should’ve been in the med bay, you should’ve been filing reports on the last mission and updating medical records.

You’ve been assigned to Task Force 141 as their base doctor, having no experience in the field you remained back in HQ until they came back from deployment. You quickly realized they didn’t fully trust you as a doctor, whether it was due to your civilian background or a misjudgement of your abilities, you never knew and frankly you didn’t want to. You tried not to be a bother, you knew their job was hard as it was, so you tried a friendlier approach, making sure to try and interact with them if even at a minimum. 

Instead, you were faced with a hard cold truth, one that you hoped had vanished with a few friendlier words in your direction… you weren’t wanted.

Time seemed to move slower as the last few minutes replayed in your mind. 

The guys were sharing a much needed drink after a rather difficult mission. Letting the façade fall down for a bit, the whiskey loosening tongues and bringing to the surface feelings that could no longer be held down.

You were walking down the hallway that led to Price’s office, a bit of a pep to your walk and a container of baked goods in one hand and the files that needed his signature on the other. You knew they’d be a bit peckish after their mission so you thought ahead and brought some pastries that you knew they liked, even though Simon always said that those were more sugar than bread. In an instant the door to the Captain's office was at reach so you balanced the files over the container. 

-She’s jus so fecking annoying, y’know ?-

You stopped right when you were about to knock on the door, hand midair. 

-I ge’ tha’ we’re suppose to get along seein tha shes the fecking doctor- 

What?  Your breathing stopped and your body shivered

-Bu’ I jus can’t seem to tolerate’ er- the voices seemed a bit muffled by the closed door but still the volume was loud enough for you to hear… Listening as you stood there frozen, wishing that you couldn’t. 

-C’mon Johnny, she can be a bi’ annoying, sure.- Ouch 

-Bu’ she does ‘er job properly and at the end o’ the day, tha’s why she’s ‘ere fo’. - 

Kyle seemed to try and reason with him but even his own voice sounded strained. 

The beating of your heart going wild with every second that passed, your eyes stinging with unshed tears. They couldn’t refer to you right? Maybe, maybe it was someone else on their mission…

-Y/N does a good job, lads.- That’s the captain’s voice… Fuck…

-I get tha’, is jus… she keeps sticking t’ us like feckin glue everywhere we go- Oh no…

The tears were freely flowing now, not wanting to believe what you were hearing, sure you weren’t the most serious person but you never thought that would be a problem, specially after everything you’ve done with and for them. 

-Maybe you’ should stop inviting ‘er everywhere with us then- 

-Is no’ like I want to, Lt.  Bu’ she jus… pops ‘ere everytime I try and talk to all o’ you .- 

“Maybe I should go… But… my legs are not moving” 

-S’ your fault for flirting wi’ er when she came roun’ the firs time- Kyle was annoyed, months of interaction helping you to recognize the tone in their voices.

-Y’kno tha’ he does tha’ to everyone.- Simon sounded so sincere that you couldn’t help to feel stupid, as if you were just a joke. Another one of the bunch… 

-Lads, c’mon… She’s jus’ doin her job- Price was tired and he could already feel a headache starting to form in the back of his head.

-She’s a nice girl, ‘sides you kno’ tha’ i couldn’ stop Laswell for saddling ‘er with us- 

That was it, you never thought that they didn’t want you. They were a bit standoff-ish in the first few weeks or so but that was because they didn't know you… right? They were a tight-knit group, it was perfectly natural to not trust an outsider with their health, right? 

They became friendlier in the last weeks, actually letting you patch them up rather than doing it themselves when you weren’t in the med bay. The first one that apparently seemed friendly to you was Johnny, making you blush with his flirtatious ways but at least making you glad that he was starting to open up a bit, Kyle and Price being a bit on the quiet side but at least no longer just completely silent while you fixed them up and Simon… well he was still not talking to you or acknowledging you.

Knowing that all of your efforts were for nothing made you feel useless, it had nothing to do with your job, you knew you were good otherwise you wouldn’t have been assigned to the 141. 

So with a deep breath and a new goal in mind,  you turned away and left files in one hand and a slightly crushed box of pastries.

“In the madness and soil, of that sad earthly scene”

You didn’t sleep a wink since that moment, pouring yourself over the medical files that needed your approval for final submission.

You were so deep in thought, that you didn’t hear the knocks at your door, only looking up when you heard a cough to get your attention. 

There stood your captain, looking very tired and you already could see the headache seeping into his usual calm demeanor. 

The urge to offer him a tea cup or a mild remedy for his head crossed your mind, he looked really tired but after what you heard last night you just couldn’t bring yourself to do so. 

- Is there something you needed, captain?- your voice came out a little bit tired and sharper than usual, something that didn’t went unnoticed by the captain

-Yeah, kid. The reports from the last mission, do you have’ em?- He narrowed his eyes a bit at you, as if trying to figure out what happened. 

-Sure, let me get them for you- you stood up and moved to the cabinet next to your desk, there you took them off next to where the box of pastries remained intact and went ahead to give the to  the captain. 

- Here, all of the medical procedures and recent injuries are already stated. All they need is your approval so your medical history can be updated in due course- 

You handed him the files and turned to look at him, his face was a mix of confusion and slight annoyance. This side of you was new to him and he didn’t quite like it, where once you were all smiles and cheerful disposition now stood a sad look and a blank face, as if the very sunshine was taken from you. 

-Is everything all righ’, kid?- he found himself asking, you sighed loudly and headed back to your desk.

-Don’t worry about me, captain. Is just a rough patch, that’s all- You sat down and started to go over the files laid out before you.

-Alrigh’, if you need anything…- he watched you for a few seconds and then turned away and left.

A sour mood was felt across the base and from the interaction each of them had with you over the course of the week … there was definitely something wrong. 

Johnny tried flirting with you, but instead of being all giggles and blushing mess you just looked at him with a tight lip smile and continued as if he never talked to you, even when Kyle came in to your office for a quick fix up of his most recent stitches you remained completely silent, only talking to give him instructions on how to take care of his injuries and when to take his pain meds. Price’s office was a bit quieter than usual, without your usual self trying to warm up to him with an equally warm cup of tea or coffee in hand to help him through his headaches, even Simon felt the shift in your behavior, when crossing in the hallways or the break room being greeted with nothing more than a call of his rank and quickly leaving. 

The boys went into the cafeteria that same week and were surprised to see that while to the other soldiers you were still friendly and smiley, to them you were nonchalant and seemed almost way too professional. And that was upsetting everyone, so when you finished your lunch and went back to your office, files and coffee in hand they all decided that enough was enough.

You hadn't even finished entering your office when the four men burst in right behind you. You turned around with a scared look and a squeak of surprise at the sudden intrusion, the coffee almost falling from your grip and the files clutched to your chest. The boys all looked at you with a mix of annoyance and betrayal and you felt small, very very small. 

-What the hell is wrong with you?- your voice was a bit raised from the fright you were still recovering from, as you walked to your desk to leave the files and the coffee, Johnny spoke up. 

-Us? Wha’ e’ ‘ell is wrong wit you?- You turned around with a very deep frown etched into your face. 

-What are you talking about? You’re the ones that burst into my office like a pack of wild animals.- A very annoyed Johnny stepped right up until he was face to face with you. 

-Johnny calm down, mate.- Gaz’s voice was heard over Johnny’s loud breathing. 

-No, no’ until she’s told us jus’ wha’ in the living fuck is wrong- His voice was dangerously low, and it was fucking terrifying. 

-First of, back the fuck off, sargeant. I may be just a bloody fucking nuisance but i’m a doctor and I will break every bone in your body while naming them- A surprised look flashed through everyone’s faces, you’ve never talked to them like that before, and when Johnny didn’t seem to back off, you pushed with all your might and managed to make him to stumble back a bit. 

At that moment Ghost approached him and held him before he could fall, but the look he gave you, was right down murderous. A chill ran down your spine and your instincts screamed at you to run but your legs didn’t seem to work. Price at seeing the angry look on both of your faces quickly stood in front of everyone and yelled at both of you to cut it out. 

-Y/LN, you’ll apologize this instant or you’ll be subject to a reprimand for assaulting a ranking officer.- Price knew at the moment those words left his lips… he’d fucked up. 

-Excuse me?- You turned to look at him, furious. The nerve of these men…

-You think that you can burst into my office, to then demand an answer for which I do not know the fucking question to and THEN reprimand me for protecting myself against a man that got way into my personal space?- 

Your voice was raised, you were very very pissed off and the boys knew it, they knew they weren’t the best when it came to you, almost neglecting your care due to years and years of trust issues. They knew it wasn’t fair to you, but still when the only ones taking care of them were themselves, they just couldn’t trust you completely.

- I have tried SO hard to have you guys to trust me, GOD KNOWS I’VE TRIED and you won’t let me.- You felt the tears well up in the corners of your eyes and the faces of shock in the squad just made you feel worse. 

You hated yourself for crying, but the anger in you, the betrayal and the sadness were all out there now, so might as well just tell them everything. 

-I know I’m pathetic to you, I know that you think I’m… how you put it, Sergeant MacTavish?- At the mention of his name he looked up at you - “so fucking annoying”, I think was the term used.- His eyes widened, he knew exactly what you were talking about and the others seemed to remember the conversation they had a few days prior. 

-You’ eard o’r conversation?- Gaz seemed a bit angry and confused, how the hell could you have heard them if you weren’t supposed to be in the building. 

-Yes… I know it was wrong… I needed the captain’s signature on all of your files so your medical records could be updated..- The realization dawned on the captain, that’s why you were so down the next day… You heard everything. 

- But… I guess it was ultimately for the best- Your voice a whisper as you looked at them. 

-If you’re that unsatisfied with my care, I’ll ask the brass for a transfer.- The determined look on your face was like a slap in their faces, you were really going to leave them. They needed to fix this but neither of them said anything, you took a deep breath and left the office, leaving the four men standing dumbfounded in your office.

“What in the actual fuck just happened?” a thought, accompanied with the memory of utter anger and sadness in your face that will hunt the squad for the rest of their lives. 

They needed to fix it… soon. 

“Only then I am human, only then I am clean”

SOOOOOOO this was my first piece, i'm really sorry if it’s not the best so please forgive me jajaja.

If you liked it please like and reblog, I would like to keep writing and knowing you like it will make me very happy.

Jejejeje feedback is appreciated <3

[jeannyjaykaydeh]

SMUT!!! (Blood kink)

Alastor x fem!Reader

You stood up to Alastor - in front of other hotel guests, which he found very disrespectful.

You made him angry, so you have to be prepared for your punishment.

Warnings: NSFW, smut, blood kink (reader is on her period), slight humiliation, submissive reader, dominating Alastor, OOC Alastor, oral sex (reader receiving) and maybe bad English

MDNI!

And I hope you don’t expect a good plot, because you won’t find it there.

————————————————————————-

„Hello, darling“, Alastor greets you in a sarcastic voice while looking at you from his chair, where he sorts with his legs crossed and building a cage with his hands in front of his mouth.

Intimidated, how you are feeling right now, you close the door to his room behind you.

He has ordered you here for a talk, after you had the audacity to speak against him in front of other hotel guests. Usually, you’re not this brave, but today things were different. You are on your period. The cramps in your uterus are hardly bearable and your hormones are on a peak level which means that if anyone dares to annoy you has to handle the consequences.

And today Alastor annoyed you a lot. With his jokes he always makes about you because of your height for example. He annoyed you with his stupid laughter he makes after he feels himself in a high position.

Normally, you don’t care about his behaviour. You are strong enough to ignore it. But not today. Today you truly aren’t in the mood to take this bullshit from him.

So after the third joke he made about you you exploted metaphorically. You responded with a joke which humiliated him in a way he never thought you where able to say such things out loud.

But now it’s your turn to handle the consequences for this big mistake you have made. After all, he’s your boss. He owns your soul. And he wants to remind you who has the powerful position here.

„Well, well, my dear“, the Radio Demon begins to speak while he grins at you. Your lips shake slightly. You try to hide your trembling body, but it feels like it’s not possible at all, because your fear his too big.

Alastor continues speaking in a dark voice which makes you shiver: „I guess, you know why I have ordered you here?!“

You nod.

„And you may also know what kind of consequence you can expect for your disrespectful behaviour?!“

You nod again.

Alastor's grin widens while he bites is lower lip. „Hm, I have to admit that I am quite unsure what to do to you now. I want you to experience the same humiliation I have felt during your pathetic words you directed at me.“

He seems like to think about it for a while but then he snaps his fingers and one of his shadow tentacles reaches up towards you running it’s sharp edge through your skirt from bottom to top. The delicate fabric falls apart and onto the floor exposing your lower body which makes you immediately blush. You let out a small whimper, feeling ashamed.

Now you’re standing there. In front of Alastor. In his room.

He smiles at the look of your bare and beautiful legs. His eyes wander up the rest of your body - from your pants to your long shirt which covers parts of your lower body.

And then he commands in a calm voice: „Take off your underwear!“

With a shocked sight on your face you look at him. „But -“, you try to explain that you need your pants because of the situation you are in at this moment but he immediately interrupts you. This time, his voice sounds a little sharper: „Darling, please don’t repeat your mistake again. Don’t forget that I own your soul, so you better do what I want without any contradiction!“

You hesitate at first, but then you realize that you have no other choice and you obey his command.

You slowly slide your panties down your legs and then push them to the side with one foot over the floor.

And now you can see the triumphant look in his eyes, that disgusting look of smugness on his face.

You’re standing there with nothing on your body but a shirt which you pull down a bit to hide your cunt from is voyeuristic eyes which are fixed on you.

„Now, now, darling. How does that feel? Tell me!“

You look down on the floor, while tears are running up into your eyes and with a low, trembling voice you answer: „It… feels hu… humiliating.“

„Fine. And will you ever dare to do such disrespectful things to me again?“, he asks you.

„No!“, you answer.

He begins to chuckle: „I beg your pardon, my little doe. I couldn’t hear you. And also I want you to look at me!“

You look up to him and raise your voice a little bit: „No, Alastor. I am so sorry and I will never do that again.“

He smiles contentedly: „Good girl.“

Then his eyes wander down your body as he recognises the strains of blood beginning to run down your legs.

He raises an eyebrow and lower his lids as he says: „Ah. I didn’t know it’s that time of the month again. That would be explaining your pathetic behaviour.“

He can’t help but be dominated by his cannibalistic mind. The saliva of greed drips from his teeth and he looks at you with desire.

„This seems to be thwarting my plans“, with a gesture of his index finger, he lures you towards him and he commands, „come here to me!“

You walk over to him and stop right in front of him.

He places his hands on the round cheeks of your butt and he kneads the flesh of your ass with excitement. He lets out a slight groan with a static noise as he enjoys the feeling of your naked body under his hands.

Then he pulls you closer to him to take a sniff from the blood that drains out of your cunt.

„Mmmh, my sweetheart, you smell quite delicious!“, he hums at your pussy hungrily.

Suddenly, the radio demon rises quickly from his armchair and pushes you in the direction of his bed to shove you roughly onto the mattress. He then bends over you, holds your thighs up and then disappears with his face between your legs, running his tongue through your blood-soaked cleft to take in every last drop.

You can’t help but letting out a moan as you feel his long, wet tongue circling your clit and then penetrating deep into your hole.

He groans like a rutting deer while he licks the blood from the swollen soft flesh of your cunt. His claws dig into the skin of your hips, heating you up more and more.

He pauses to hum in a horny tone against your vulva: „Fuck, darling, you’re insanely tasty!“

And then he continues to eat you out.

You spread your legs a bit more and your hands run through his hair while you moan louder and louder in rising heat.

As his antlers begin to grow you grab them to hold on to them and then you reach your climax.

Alastor can tell the stage you’re in by your trembling body and by the tone of your beautiful moaning voice so he fastens the movements of his tongue and focuses on your clit to help you get the orgasm you deserve.

And then it happens: You tense your body, arch your back, your head is stretched back and your eyes widen as a wonderful orgasm rolls over you through your sensitive pussy. You clutch his antlers tighter and scream his name as you let yourself fall completely and surrender to the climax caused by the radio demon.

„YES! YES! ALASTOR! HAAHHH!“, you scream.

He lets out a happy moan with a static noise in response to your satisfaction.

Then he lets go of you to look at you with a gentle smile. Your pretty face after an orgasm really turns him on.

Alastor gets up from the bed, takes a handkerchief from the breast pocket of his vest to dab your blood from his lips.

"Well, this one didn't quite go the way it should have, but I'd be lying if I didn't say I liked this one too“, he says with a mischievous smile on his face.

[holylulusworld]

Omega by nature

Summary: You're an omega by nature.

Pairing: Alpha!Dean Winchester x Omega!Reader

Warnings: angst, language, a/b/o, chasing, a hint of fear, OOC Dean, character's death

Sequel to: Beta in heart

A/N: Part 2/3

A few minutes before Dean came back to the bunker, …

Your eyes snap open and you’re gasping for air. The first thing you do when you jolt up on your mattress is touch your mating gland. Another nightmare woke you from your dreams.

“Only a dream,” you whimper as your mating gland is still untouched. The monster didn’t get the chance to destroy it. “How…why?” Just now you hear someone growl outside your room. “What?”

“Dean, you need to stop!” You can hear Sam outside your room, and then something hits your door. “DEAN!”

“She’s mine!” That’s Dean, fighting with his brother to get inside your room. “I got the get her! Sammy, get out of my way!”

You hear a loud thud and something sounding like a heavy body dropping to the ground. 

“OPEN THE DOOR!”

Now, …

“OMEGA!” Dean steps inside your room. He sniffs in all directions, almost like a predator scenting his prey. “Omega?” A throaty purr leaves his lips catching your scent. “Y/N?”

You clasp one hand over your mouth. If Dean finds you in your hideout, he’ll not be able to control his instinct. He made it very clear, that you are not the woman he wants. Omega or not.

“Y/N, come out,” he crouches down to look under your bed. “There you are.” He lies flat on the floor, hand reaching out to touch your ankle. “Omega, you need to come here.”

“Go away,” you shrug his hand off your leg. “You can’t be here, Dean. Please leave my room. Your scent will ruin it. Please…”

“I can’t go,” he grabs your ankle again, tugging at it. You try to crawl away, but Dean won’t let go of your leg. “Get out from under your bed. We need to talk. Stop acting like a child.” Dean growls. You can hear him growl low in his throat.

Dean fights from control. If not, he’ll drag you out from under the bed and mate you. “Let me go.” You kick and scream as Dean crawls under the bed to wrap his arms around your body. “I’m warning you!”

“You need to calm down, or you’ll go feral,” he snarls in your ear. “I can smell you. Why did you reveal you’re an omega now?”

You wiggle in his grip and refuse to answer his question. “Let me go!”

“OMEGA!” You stiffen at his alpha command. While your instinct tells you to give in to Dean’s demands, you are too stubborn to obey. “Give in.” He sniffs your neck, purring low in his throat when you tilt your head. “Answer me.”

“I told you that I didn’t want you and Sam to believe I’m a liability,” you bite back. “And after you told me my presentation doesn’t change how you feel about me, I thought I could stop using suppressants and scent blockers. That shit is expensive!”

“What if Sammy would’ve lost control, huh? With an omega smelling like you around, he could’ve easily lost control,” Dean growls. 

“Sammy doesn’t see me that way, Dean. He would never…”

“Nature gives a shit about feelings, Y/N,” he tightens his hold on you when you start wiggling again. “An alpha scenting an omega like you will lose control. You’re lucky I knocked him out.”

A cold shiver runs down your spine at Dean’s words. “You did what? Dean, you can’t just knock your brother out. What has gotten into you?”

”Do you know how hard I try to keep my alpha in control?” He nuzzles your neck. “If I let go, I’ll claim, mate, and knot you until you can’t walk straight for a week.”

“I won’t let you,” you ram your elbow into his stomach, making him growl. “You fucked Cassie not days ago. Do you honestly believe I’ll let you stick your dick into me?”

“Bad move, sweetheart,” Dean bites your neck. His teeth don’t leave a mark, but you stiffen and hold your breath. He grazes your mating gland with his teeth, making sure you know he’s not joking. “We won’t leave this room before we talk things out.”

“I need to get away from you, Dean! You smell like rut,” you’re out of breath from wiggling in his hold. “Please, you don’t want me.

“I smell like rut, but Castiel helped me suppress it,” he whispers in your ear. “Still, I’m struggling to hold back and not mate you.” 

“You’re mine. Always were meant to be mine,” His voice dangerously low Dean snarls in your ear. “You had no right to hide your presentation from me. I tried so hard to stay away from you to not hurt you. I could’ve had my omega all this time!”

“Fuck you,” you snap at Dean before you ram your elbow into his solar plexus. He winces in pain and finally releases his hold on you. 

You take the chance and crawl away, getting on your feet as fast as you can to go for a sprint. Dean is fast and strong. You must be faster to escape him.

“Y/N! Don’t!” He warns, but you are halfway out of the room. You slam the door shut behind you, holding your breath as you find Sam on the ground. 

“Fuck. Sammy! He didn’t lie,” you crouch down to check on Sam’s pulse. He’s out cold, but he’s breathing. “I’m so sorry, Sam. He’s out of his mind…”

“OMEGA!”

“Shit,” you curse, and get back up to run along the hallways. If you can reach Sam or Castiel’s room, their scent will cover your scent. “Stay away from me!”

“Get back here!”

Dean chases after you. He curses under his breath as you speed up to dash toward his brother’s room. “I can see where you are going! There is no need to hide. I only want to talk to you.”

You stop in your tracks to look over your shoulder. Dean flashes you a toothy smirk, showing off his teeth. The last time he looked at you like that was when he was a demon – and that wasn’t a pleasant experience.

Dean dips his head, waiting for your next step. “Chasing me around the bunker won’t make me forgive you, Dean. You know this will end badly if you don’t stop right now. I’ll castrate you before I let you mate me.”

He chuckles darkly. His eyes glow, and his teeth look a little sharper when he smirks at you. “Sweet little omega, I’m going to chase you down.”

“Okay. That is enough,” you don’t know what has gotten into Dean, but this is not your friend. Something is more than wrong with him, and you fear he’ll go feral if you don’t stop him right now. “How about we talk this out?”

You tilt your head in submission to please the alpha. “How about we leave talking to bookworms and losers? I have something better in mind.”

“How about you fuck off you sonofabitch!” Your eyes widen when another Dean steps next to you to shove you behind his back. “That’s my omega!”

“Dean?” You look from the man holding a gun in his hand to the other Dean, the one chasing you around the bunker. 

“I see you liked my face so much you had to copy it,” Dean jokes as he watches the shapeshifter smirk back at him. “Tell me, when did you touch me?”

“It was so easy. A crowded bar, with many people. I brushed past you and, voila, I knew everything about you and that sweet omega waiting to get bred,” the monster replies. “It was so easy to get inside the bunker and knock your brother out.”

“Well, newsflash asshole, this omega is mine,” Dean fires a round at the monster, throwing another one-liner at the shapeshifter as it drops dead to the ground.

“He’ll be alright,” Dean says as you worriedly look at Sam. “I should’ve come home sooner.”

“I should’ve known that you would never—” you sniff. “I ran and left Sam behind. Why did I not realize that this wasn’t you? You would never want me and…”

“Sweetheart, we will talk about this tomorrow,” Dean places his hand on your shoulder. “For tonight, I want you to stay with Sammy while I get rid of the shapeshifter.”

“I…” you nod, even though, you wish you could confront Dean for all the things he said and did.

For tonight, you will stay with Sam and ignore the aching in your chest.

You can’t help but feel sad. At least the monster wanted you. 

>> Love by heart

Tags in reblog.

[moonstrider9904]

Lose It

Grand Admiral Thrawn x Female Reader

Summary: As Governor Pryce's assistant, you've had to put up with a lot of things and meet a lot of stuck up imperials with flying colors, but when Grand Admiral Thrawn lands on Lothal, you find yourself stuttering upon your words, flustered, and invited to a gala dinner that'll define your career.

Tags/warnings: SMUT. 18+ adults only. Corporate struggles, Pryce being mean, first meetings, alcohol consumption, making out, PiV sex unprotected, fingering. This is my first time in a long while writing Thrawn, so sorry if any of this is ooc.

Word count: 8042

Playlist: Lose it by Oh Wonder - and its Jerry Folk Remix for the smut 👀

Read on AO3 | One-shot masterlist | Main masterlist |

With your eyes glued to the datapad, you felt as if caf would be the only thing to get you through that morning.

Sunrises on Lothal were beautiful, and yet, you were never able to enjoy them. Your desk on the seventh floor, a place relatively close to the much more humane office destined for your boss, was in a tiny reception room that had no windows; you'd have to walk a good kilometer inside the facility for you to get a glimpse of the outside world. You didn't mind the walking - it was always good for your mind whenever you felt saturated - but lately it seemed as if your boss had the uncanny ability to always demand something new from you whenever you resolved to walk out that door to do anything remotely human. Never being one to be superstitious, when it came to Governor Pryce, you wouldn't give her any more leverage.

You scoffed lightly at yourself. With the boss you had, it was a miracle the cup of caf you were drinking was actually for yourself and not for her. You had a little wager going on in your head to see what else that woman could take from you - so far, she'd already claimed your motivation and a good chunk of your faith in the Empire.

You regretted having Pryce on your thoughts when a notification pushed itself to the corner of your datapad. I'm not available, you thought to yourself, as if that had ever kept you from doing anything that was beneath you before, or worse, getting locked in a task that would absorb all your time and sucked the energy out of you like a leech. There never seemed to be an in between. You scanned the subject and, though you didn't hear alarms being set off in your mind, you did find your interest piqued.

URGENT: Imperial High Command Visit, Subject Classified. All imperial personnel directly reporting to levels SC6 and above must report to direct management for instructions.

And sure enough, you'd have no more peace for the remainder of the morning when you read that. You downed the rest of your caf and mentally braced yourself for what was to come. It wasn't uncommon for you to receive messages like that, but something big usually happened when you did, and you were used to finding out who or what it was about until the very last moments. It looked like it would simply be one of those days, so you grabbed your datapad and left your desk, making your way across the little reception room and into Pryce's office.

One thing you figured you could appreciate about Pryce was that there was never any beating around the bush, and it always made things a lot quicker, even in situations when it felt like you were having a band aid ripped from you. More like a piece of duct tape, but it was quick either way. And when you walked into her office, your back straight and gaze placed directly on your boss, donning what she would deem the desirable posture of an Imperial public servant, Pryce was already standing up from behind her desk with her blue eyes piercing into you.

Only she could make such a beautiful eye color look so menacing.

"You're here not two minutes after my comm was sent," Pryce commented. "I want that efficiency from you every day."

You were that efficient every day, but you weren't about to argue with Pryce about her short-sightedness.

"Put everything you were working with on hold for now," Pryce told you.

You didn't question the importance of the current events, but you never liked it when she told you to cast things aside to make room for her new wishes.

"I need you to send this out as a comm to all staff levels SC5 and below," Pryce handed you a drive, "and then I need you to make sure Congregation Room 2 is set to receive a minimum of seven people, but leave three extra chairs and make sure it's well stocked in refreshments. Put all my comms outside of lines 1 and 2 on standby, redirect comms from lines 4 and 6 towards you, I'm sure those are all things you can handle."

Pryce began walking past you outside of her office, leaving you to follow as you made a mental list of what she was asking.

"Do not answer any questions you're asked by anyone," Pryce continued. "At the most, tell anyone who wants to know to refer to the comm I'm asking you to send out. Now, in that hard drive you'll find the comm, two diagrams, a statement, and a final comm different to the first one which must be sent out only to levels SC6 and above - they are all in the order they're meant to be sent out and the time and date is encrypted in their properties. Stick to them like clockwork, and program anything you need ahead of time. We cannot afford mistakes, I hope I'm clear about that. Once you're done with these duties, find me. I'll need you at my side the whole day."

"Yes, Governor Pryce," you answered with your most professional tone.

Pryce stopped in front of your desk in the reception. "One more thing. Tomorrow night there will be a welcoming gala on the higher levels of the facility. I assume you have something to wear?"

"Ma'am?" You questioned, inevitably puzzled. You were open to many requests from Pryce, and while nearly nothing surprised you anymore, it really sounded like Pryce was inviting you to a fancy event.

"You won't be dancing and fine dining," Pryce sneered. "You'll be assisting me as well as the logistics staff for the event. And, I cannot repeat this with enough emphasis, we cannot afford mistakes. Understand?"

"Yes, ma'am," you answered again.

Pryce was about to leave the reception and finally give you room to work, but she stopped and looked at you again.

"Ah, and refill the caf pots for the entire floor, we're all going to need it," Pryce spat before finally leaving without so much as a thank you or goodbye.

Would you like me to refill the fat cats' caf pots before or after I send out a highly important, classified comm to the entire facility? It was all you could do not to roll your eyes. You didn't want any cameras catching you in the act.

Luckily, you'd gotten very good at prioritizing. The high commands could wait for their caf, and if they couldn't, they could very well brew it themselves. The first thing on the list was checking the drive Pryce had given you so that you could write out any comms and either send them or program them, so you plugged the drive into your computer. You found that one of the diagrams Pryce had told you about wasn't meant to be sent out, but rather, it was full of instructions for you. And according to those instructions, you'd have time to be a professional performing tasks worthy of her level before fulfilling a caf quest that was very much beneath you.

But the other diagram caught your eye - it was a command structure you'd never seen before. You knew many of the names on it, and when you read the one at the top, began to grasp the magnitude of what was happening at Lothal. It seemed Pryce wouldn't be the top authority on the planet anymore, she'd now be answering to someone who carried a title far more imposing than hers.

The diagram was meant to be sent out with the first comm, so you read the draft, and you didn't know whether you should panic, be excited, or hide from anyone who already recognized you as assistant to the Governor who would want privileged answers. Words like Command Structure Reformation, High Level Staff Transition, and Low-level Cost Reduction caught your eye. You'd heard whispers of new projects and seen the factories that were being built on Lothal from afar, and it seemed you were the one being tasked with telling the facility about that. But you had the hunch something like this would only leave everyone with more questions than answers. No wonder Pryce had warned you about people asking you things, but you doubted it was out of any effort to protect you. She'd essentially just asked you to keep from saying anything that might spill any secrets.

You sent out the first comm immediately and scheduled anything else for the day, including the comm about the gala—that one got you wondering if you'd at least be paid extra, but you had little faith in that. When you were done with that, you locked the computer and removed the drive, and you took your datapad with you as well for whatever came up. You were now headed towards Congregation Room 2 to oversee its preparations, hoping to swiftly fulfill the second part of your instructions for that morning, but as you were leaving the reception room and entering the main hallway, you were abruptly almost bumped into by Pryce herself, who rushed down the hall followed by three Imperial men in high-ranking uniforms. Despite her urgency, she stopped to glare at you.

"Do not tell me you're only just finishing the comms," Pryce snarled. "Hurry up and fill the pots! Are you trying to make the staff furious?"

Without any other acknowledgement towards you, Pryce and the other imperials continued on their way. You felt heat rushing to your cheeks with the words you couldn't say to her, such as how perhaps she forgot what it was like to do routine comm writing or basically any other task the commoner would have to do any day and how long some of those could take ever since she got a high horse and an assistant. But you also knew if you stood there pondering, you'd get yelled at again—the fact that Pryce had chosen to do that in front of others made your blood boil, but as much as you didn't appreciate being humiliated as "that aloof assistant" in front of anyone, you had things to do, lowly as they were.

Another push notification presented itself on your datapad, which you stopped in your tracks to look at.

From: Governor Pryce

On your desk I left a stack of binders for Congregation Room 2. Do not forget them.

You added that little detail to the list of things to keep track of.

With each pot of caf you filled, a tiny part in your brain wondered if anyone would notice if you spat in it. The thought amused you, but you also feared Pryce far too much to try any stunts like that. Something told you she'd notice you sabotaging a pot of caf even if she was on a different planet. You let your fantasies of getting away with mischief get you through that particularly unpleasant part of the morning and finally headed back to your desk for the binders from Pryce and then towards the congregation room, walking so fast you would run if you went any quicker. It was a miracle you didn't drop the binders in the middle of the hallway, and you were happy fate was apparently smiling at you that day to prevent any more embarrassment in front of Imperial high command.

When you arrived, you were pleased to see that the room wasn't a mess. The large table in the center was perfectly clean, with no traces of dust, and the chairs had already been pushed in and straightened out neatly. The room had that corporate smell to it that you both loved and hated, and it was so quiet that it was oddly peaceful. You liked the way the blueish-gray walls were embellished by the large paintings on the walls, one on each of the longer sides of the room. You wished you had more time to admire them both, one of the landscapes of Lotha, and the other one far more abstract with bright shades of orange, magenta, some yellow, and hints of gold on a cream-colored canvas.

You set a binder down on each spot of the table, and then you tested the light dimmers in the room. You then placed a bottle of water next to each binder, and finally, you brewed a pot of caf for the Congregation Room that you hoped would be your last, at least for that day. Still, you admitted you could use another cup of fully loaded black caf yourself.

For a while, the sound of the caf brewing was the only thing to fill your ears. You watched the rich, dark droplets falling into the pot and filling it, letting your mind get some sort of rest. You had the strange feeling that you'd been worked to the bone and yet you hadn't accomplished anything that day... that was a feeling you got very often in your job.

"Strange to see two very opposing art pieces put together in one room," a deep, male voice inundated your senses, rich and luxurious like the caf filling the pot in front of you.

Despite the voice's velvet qualities, you jumped up on the spot, startled, and you turned to face its source.

"I apologize, I did not mean to startle you," he said. He was a tall Chiss man in a white uniform, his profile frame facing you as he faced the painting of the landscape of Lothal's countryside. His posture was regal, with his hands placed behind his back, resting in lightly formed fists. "It would seem a more traditional choice to have paintings that are similar to one another, enough for them to complement but not cause any redundancy."

When he finished speaking, the man looked at you, his deep crimson gaze both gentle and penetrating on you.

"Would you agree?" He asked you.

You didn't have an idea of what to answer, and even if you did, you were stunned. You'd never crossed paths with someone like him before - his aura was intoxicating, and the fact that he had deemed you worthy of addressing spiraled in your mind. Any other imperial would have looked at you over the nose and deemed their time too important to waste on a mere assistant.

"I-I-" You paused to clear your throat, cursing your sudden inability to speak. "I have indeed seen that tendency in other places, just not here. Personally, I like the other painting a lot more."

Your mind began to race as you worried whether you were supposed to salute him or do anything, but it would depend on his rank. You figured standing up straight and not making a further fool out of yourself would suffice, but you looked over at the plaque over his chest just to be sure.

It wasn't a pattern or a rank you recognized. Had that man smitten you that hard?

He gave you the hint of a smile before turning around and looking at the other painting, the abstract piece, and he took his time to admire it. You wondered if perhaps you should offer him a cup of caf, ask him if he was there for the staff meeting, comment more on the painting... you had no clue.

But the silence was suffocating you, and you knew you wanted to hear more of his luscious voice. You looked at the plaque on his chest and took your best guess at his rank judging by the sequence of colors - you didn't get to be assistant to the Governor without memorizing imperial structure level well before.

"Admiral," you stammered minimally, "is there something I can help you with?"

Slowly, his frame turned towards you, his lips again curved ever so slightly. "It is Grand Admiral, actually."

You felt heat rushing to your cheeks - even your best guess based on your experience didn't save you from messing up in front of the greatest force of nature that facility had seen in a while.

"O-oh, I apogolize--er, apologize," you stuttered.

You wanted to scream, so you resorted to just doing it internally. It then dawned on you who this man really was based on his rank alone. The reason your morning had been so hectic was standing right there in front of you, watching you squirm. This was the man Governor Pryce would answer to from now on. Grand Admiral Thrawn. You straightened your back at the realization and bowed your head shortly before looking him in the eyes again, and much to your surprise, he seemed amused with you. Not in the high-and-mighty way, but rather, it was almost as if something about you was endearing.

"You may be at ease," Thrawn said. "I would like to hear your thoughts on this abstract piece. You said you prefer this over the other one."

You breathed in before speaking and hoped your language skills didn't fail you again, and you took just a couple of paces closer to him, allowing yourself to view the painting better.

"Well, I'm no expert," you warned.

"You do not have to be," Thrawn mused. "Appreciation of the arts can be enhanced by knowledge, but the true purpose of art is to produce sensations in the viewer. Any insight you may have to share is valuable."

You looked at the painting again and found it in yourself to relax. "I like the warmth of the colors. And their livelihood, too. It makes me think of freedom, and the gold flecks seem to speak about the beauty of that freedom, as well as the luxury of having it."

"This desire of freedom speaks to you?" He asked you.

You then realized you were talking about lacking freedom to an Imperial Grand Admiral, and you felt your already racing heart quicken.

"I'm grateful for my work and I have no complaints," you corrected despite your many complaints about your boss that morning, easing yourself back into what the painting produced within you. "It's just that... the bright pinks and oranges are hard not to notice in the middle of these gray walls... they can become confining after too many hours in them."

"Hm," Thrawn hummed. "I always prefer having a view myself. I share your sentiment."

You figured having a Grand Admiral's agreement on an art matter was the biggest compliment you'd get that day.

"Might I ask," you began, "what do you think of it?"

Thrawn side-eyed you, but the attitude with which he did it seemed pleased, as well as intrigued with you. He then looked at the painting again. "This color palette reminds me of a current I've been witnessing in none other but rebellious efforts. There is a certain diversity to it, as well as the clear nature of abstract art mirroring the rebellion itself. Your observations of the contrast of the color with the gray of our facilities and the need for freedom only confirm to me that I was not far off with my own initial interpretation."

You were dazed, and the need to speak more plunged into you like thorns.

"How interesting," you said with an airy voice. "For these sorts of emotions to be manifested to multiple people in a similar way."

"Yes," Thrawn said. "Though current context may have some influence on this... collective perception."

Before the conversation could advance, you heard the sound of Governor Pryce's voice approaching from down the hall, her words quick and frantic, clashing with your and Thrawn's aura like nails scratching smooth stone. Soon enough, Pryce appeared at the door of the room with a large number of Imperials behind her, and though she was relieved to find Thrawn there, you could tell she was displeased at the sight of you standing with him.

"Grand Admiral, please excuse the lack of hospitality," Pryce said as she glared at you.

"Not at all, Governor Pryce, I have been well-received," Thrawn said; you could have sworn you noticed him glance at you as he did.

Regardless of Thrawn trying to ease some of the weight off you, the last thing you wanted was to have Pryce suspect anything less than decent coming from you. But fortunately, you noticed Pryce scanning the room, hopefully noticing everything was set up exactly according to her instruction. And now that she had come to you, it wasn't necessary for you to go out and look for her like she'd told you earlier.

Pryce suppressed a scoff. "Yes, well, it appears this room has been prepared properly for your arrival." She then faced the rest of the Imperials behind her. "Please come in. My assistant will help accommodate you."

You understood the instruction and acknowledged Thrawn one last time before walking over to the doorway and directing multiple people towards their chairs around the table. Before Pryce took her own seat, she approached you and leaned in close to your shoulder - your mind raced with the question of whether she would congratulate or choke you.

"You are not to be left alone with the Grand Admiral again, do you understand?" She whispered, but the aggression of her tone was anything but inconspicuous.

"Yes ma'am," you acknowledged without trying to offer any explanation in return.

"Stay here at the back of the room," Pryce ordered. "Oblige to any request these officers may have. I don't want slip-ups."

"Yes, ma'am," you repeated.

"And this goes without saying, but none of what you are about to hear us discuss leaves this room," Pryce added. "This is of the highest confidentiality."

You nodded. "I understand, ma'am."

You knew Pryce was mad at finding you alone with Thrawn, but if she still kept you at that meeting, you had no reason to fear you'd be unemployed tomorrow. The meeting took hours, all through which you kindly obliged to whatever was needed from you.

And you felt crimson eyes on you all the while.

*

The morning after, bright and early, you arrived at your office and noticed a surprise on your desk. Pryce was nowhere to be seen, but on top of the stack of folders and datapads waiting for you to check on them, there was a bag over your desk with a delicate parchment on it that had your name written in ink. It looked large enough to hold a gown, and you remembered Pryce had mentioned something about you having an outfit for the welcoming gala you'd attend that night.

Pryce got me a dress? Employer review season must be coming up.

You pushed the jokes aside in your brain and decided to be more appreciative. Besides, it was far more likely Pryce would rather give you what she wanted you to wear before risking letting you make a poor fashion choice, thus surely rendering the welcoming gala a complete, unsaveable failure.

You took the parchment from the bag and noticed the other side of it had more writing on it.

Art deserves to be appreciated.

You felt your heart skip a beat and the oxygen leaving your head. That dress wasn't from Pryce, it was from Thrawn. It made you all the more motivated to unzip the dress bag and look at what was inside, and you felt your breath leaving your body when you saw the exquisite black fabric of the long gown. The outer layer of the dress was primarily lace, with sequins and beads very discreetly forming delicate flower forms every few inches. You knew it was high couture when your fingertips brushed the fabric, the quality evident under your touch—you tried not to think how much it cost.

Were you even supposed to accept a gift like that? You weren’t sure. It might not even fit, and even if it did, maybe you were expected to return it after the gala.

But who were you to refuse a request from a Grand Admiral? It’s not as if Pryce hadn’t told you to oblige to anything those Imperials the day before, and to your knowledge, that included Thrawn.

That day at work didn’t have you running up and down the facility like the day before, constantly required at Pryce’s side, beck, and call, but the workload didn’t stop. Between comms regarding structure changes, further details being given to the public, overseeing preparations for the gala and familiarizing yourself with the guestlist of the event, and the routine work you always did day to day for Pryce, you were hardly able to leave your desk.

But all that made the end of the day much sweeter, and when you were off your shift, you hurried home with the gown in hand. Quickly, you showered, dried your hair and styled it for the night, dolled yourself up with makeup and perfume, and at last, it was time for the dress. You were suddenly nervous about the dress not fitting, but when you tried it on, it slipped on you with ease and hugged your silhouette beautifully. The crop of the dress was perfect for your body type, and it accentuated your curves in all the right places.

Either Thrawn had someone investigate all your measurements to find the perfect fit, or he was able to eye you up and down and determine that for himself. Either way, your heart began to race. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t like the attention you were getting.

You grabbed a pair of shoes that went well with the dress and added some finishing touches to yourself, and you still had about an hour to spare before the time Pryce had asked you to be at the facility pre-event. You were out your door regardless. You figured, for an event like that, arriving sooner couldn’t hurt if only it meant having a bit more control over it.

As Pryce’s assistant, you’d been to the higher levels of the capitol a few times before for events of the sort, but you’d never seen the place decorated like it was now. The burgundy walls looked even more opulent with the warm golden lighting, and there were several tables laid out around a dance floor, each one decorated with similar burgundy, wine, and gold motifs with extravagant floral centerpieces and delicate glassware for each member that would occupy a spot in them. At the head of the dance floor there was an elongated table whose decoration matched that of the others, with exactly seven seats on it. Your chest fluttered when you glanced at the middle seat. Your day of overseeing preparations for the event had made you all too familiar with who would be occupying that spot.

You still had a job to do. You made sure the logistics team was spot on with last-minute arrangements, verifying there was enough food and wine for everyone who would be there. You went to confirm that every sound, music, and holo-projection worked properly and no one would be embarrassed on behalf of technical difficulties. Because of you, everything was spot-on well before any guests started arriving.

Timely as always, the first one to do so was Pryce. She donned an elegant gown, but as elegant as she looked, she still had that authoritarian air to her, rather than the aura of someone who went to enjoy herself. And she looked around the room not turning up her nose at anything; it seemed she was satisfied with your work for the time being. She walked up to you, and although you’d done a good job, you knew not to expect congratulations from her.

“Perform routine checks every fifteen minutes,” she instructed. “Light, sound, refreshments, staff—we need full stock at all times.”

“Yes, ma’am,” you replied.

It was only then that Pryce stopped and looked at you up and down.

“Where did you get a gown like that?” She questioned. “You look like a guest.” “It just happened to be lying around,” you answered. No way were you about to tell her it was a gift from Thrawn.

“Yes, well, good on you for matching the event’s elegance,” Pryce said. “I shall leave you to your duties. I need to receive the guests at the door, but you’ll need to take them to their places.”

If you didn’t know any better, you’d swear Pryce had just complimented you in some way. Regardless, you obliged to her orders and powered up your datapad to view the seating charts, and soon enough, everyone began to arrive. You were grateful you’d chosen a comfortable pair of shoes for the night, otherwise your feet would have already been killing you from walking up and down the room taking everyone to their places. You were unaware of how much time had gone past, but it seemed like you’d successfully gotten almost everyone to their chairs. The next time you were at the entrance to receive your next guest, you glanced down at your datapad to get a clearer vision of how many seats were still empty.

You then looked up to find crimson eyes staring at you, and you were unable to control the smile that curved your lips. In turn, Thrawn’s gaze traced your entire silhouette, and the intoxicating scent of your perfume didn’t escape him. His faint smile held triumph; he was always pleased when his plans worked out according to his machination.

“May I lead you towards your seat?” You asked him.

He nodded and, to your surprise, Thrawn held out his arm bent at a right angle and offered it to you. You raised your eyebrows and looked at him, puzzled.

“A lady must never cross a ballroom such as this unescorted,” he said to you.

If you hadn’t been working that night, you already would have given out.

You obliged to Thrawn’s offer and linked your arm in his as you led him towards the long table at the top of the dance floor. It was hard to ignore the looks you were getting, and you were privy to the confusion in the eyes of many of the people who were looking your way, no doubt questioning themselves why such a lovely lady at the arm of the Grand Admiral was also clearly an employee. You were certain that if they hadn’t already seen you leading them to their spots with a datapad in your hands, you would have been mistaken for Thrawn’s plus one.

You reached the table and gestured at the middle seat, where Thrawn sat in all his regality. With a final nod of acknowledgement, you smiled at him and made your way back towards the entrance, aware of the fact that you swayed your hips slightly more than usual as you walked away.

Hours wore on. Your management of the event was spotless, and everything was on schedule. The food during dinner was warm, and no one was left waiting obscenely long for a refill of their drink. Speeches were made by the staff, including Pryce and Thrawn himself, talking not only about the supremacy of the Empire but also the great plans they had in mind for Lothal—but you’d already heard enough of that during the meeting the day before.

After dinner and all the formalities, the gathering turned more festive and people took to the dance floor to sway to the elegant string music. From that point on, the night also relaxed for you and the rest of the staff, as everyone was mostly just minding their own business. You stood at the corner of the room watching as everyone danced, and you couldn’t help but search for Thrawn with your gaze. A part of you hoped not to find him dancing with another lucky woman, but you shook the thought away. He wasn’t on the dance floor anyway.

In fact, you couldn’t spot him anywhere.

Your thoughts were interrupted when Pryce rushed to you, seemingly concerned.

“You need to get General Perkins some water, now,” she said.

You nodded and pulled your datapad out. “Getting a waiter on it now—”

“No,” Pryce interrupted. “No, the man is drunk out of his mind. I fear what he’ll do if he’s confronted by a waiter. You at least look the part of a partygoer.”

“O-okay,” you obliged.

“Hurry,” Pryce growled before walking off.

You partly understood the urgency; you didn’t want a drunk imperial on your hands either. You hurried over to the bar and filled two glasses with water and carried both on a tray with your data pad on the other hand. You tried to make your way around the dance floor, but everyone was gathered around the tables at the edges, and from afar, you noticed General Perkins already beginning to swoon in his seat, his eyes threatening to close as he laughed absently.

Yeah, no wonder Pryce had told you to hurry. The dance floor wasn’t as crowded anyway—you figured you had better chances going through it.

You came to regret your decision when, halfway across the dancefloor, another less than graceful Imperial general crashed into you. You managed to keep your balance and not fall, but your datapad was knocked out of your hand and slammed to the floor loudly. The water from both of the glasses splashed all over you, and the glasses shattered on the floor scandalously followed by the clanking of the silver tray after them.

Everyone around you took several steps back, leaving you exposed. The general who’d crashed into you disappeared without acknowledging you, and you were the sole center of embarrassment, feeling as the blood rushed to your face. You wanted to hide, but multiple pairs of eyes pierced into you, judging you, whispering amongst themselves words you didn’t even want to speculate.

Pryce rushed towards you and glanced at the scene before glaring straight into your soul.

“You’re fired,” she spat, and as she left, she gestured at two nearby waiters to clean up the mess.

Your chest heaved up and down as you processed what had just happened, and just as you were about to run away from the scene, you felt your hand being taken and an arm gripping swiftly at your waist. You gasped when Thrawn came into your view in front of you, holding you up despite what had just happened, and you could almost feel everyone’s soul leaving their body. Before Thrawn met your gaze, he looked over at the band and with a single nod instructed them to begin playing. When the music resumed, Thrawn’s gaze finally met yours, and he led you across the dance floor, spinning you and waltzing with you, becoming one with the music.

Your jaw dropped, and your eyes on him were dreamy. “Why are you doing this?”

He smiled at you, purposefully spinning the two of you more elaborately. “Dance, my darling. Dance.”

Exhaling all the tension in your chest, you smiled up at Thrawn and let him dance you away.

Around you, couples began to swarm to the dance floor once more minding the waiters cleaning up the shattered glass. In the second plane, you could hear the drunken general already making a mess, but that wasn’t your problem anymore now that Pryce had fired you. You simply let Thrawn lead the way, and when you weren’t dancing with him, you were at his side with your arm in his, holding a glass of champagne in your free hand that you never would have gotten as an assistant, and you actually found it in yourself to enjoy the evening.

When it was late, Thrawn led you outside to the courtyard. You both stopped and looked each other in the eyes—he towered over you, and you loved that. You smiled softly at him, eyes seemingly sparkling in the dark.

“Thank you for what you did back there,” you said.

Thrawn’s faint smile widened almost imperceptibly. “My pleasure.”

You looked down, blushing. “Thank you for the gown, too.”

Thrawn gave a low chuckle. “You look exquisite in it.”

A thought formed in the back of your mind at what he’d just said, and suddenly you found blood rushing between your legs at the idea of you being outside of the beautiful gown.

“Shall I take you home?” He asked you.

Your heart sank, but just as you were about to accept, you noticed Thrawn moving himself closer to you, his hand moving up to your cheek to gently brush your skin.

“Or perhaps… you would like to accompany me?” Thrawn suggested.

You knew you could say no, but every fiber of your body wanted to follow him wherever he could take you. Slowly, you nodded, desire already flooding your gaze, and the transition from the courtyard to his private quarters went by in a blur. You felt slightly out of touch when you stood in the opulent living room, unsure of what to do—you’d never done anything of the sort before. The place was absolutely beautiful, though, with a regal blue and silver color palette and a large window overlooking the entire Lothal skyline. The furniture inside was of the highest grade, and there were multiple paintings, crafts, and sculptures decorating the place. Not even in your wildest dreams did you picture yourself standing in a place like that, but regardless, there you were.

Thrawn gestured at the couch in front of an automatic fireplace that ignited when you sat, and he disappeared for a few moments only to return with two glasses of wine. He sat next to you, handing you your glass, setting his cup on the caf table as you took a sip from your cup. That was the best wine you’d ever tasted.

After a few moments in silence, Thrawn took your cup and placed it on the table next to his. His hands went up to cup your face where his fingertips could gently brush the hair growing out of the nape of your neck, and he leaned in to kiss your lips. You sighed into his touch and let him in. your hands brushed up his arms and past his shoulders, and your arms wrapped around his upper back. Part of you expected him to push forward and take you there on that couch, but you felt Thrawn standing and pulling you along with him, pausing his kiss to lead you across the room towards his chamber. The bedroom’s opulent aesthetic matched that of the living room, and when you both entered, you noticed Thrawn pressing a control on the walls that lowered a solid gray curtain over the large window and dimmed the lights.

It was then that your gaze fell on the large bed at the center of the room, causing you to whimper softly in anticipation. You heard Thrawn chuckle softly behind you as he approached you with his fingertips softly tracing up the sides of your arms, landing at your shoulders. He swept your hair away from your neck and you felt his breath fanning over your skin, flooding you with shivers in the best way possible.

“You are gorgeous,” Thrawn whispered before kissing you just below your ear. He trailed his kisses down towards your collarbone, stopping where the fabric of your gown began only to make his way back up. You sighed in pleasure as you relished in every tingling sensation left by his lips, and before long, you felt Thrawn’s fingers beginning to undo the zipper at the side of your gown.

You felt the fabric of your dress becoming loose on your body, and as Thrawn continued to lavish your skin, he carefully slipped the dress down your curves. Your body was now exposed, with the only item of fabric left on you being a delicate pair of panties. You turned around on the spot and faced him, watching as his eyes brushed through every inch of your body with hunger. His hands were now on your waist pulling you closer to him again, and he kissed your lips with a brighter fire than before. Your hands snaked up his chest and landed behind his neck, your fingertips playing with his skin just above the rim of his neckline. Thrawn looked handsome in his white uniform, but you wanted him to be naked too.

You wondered if he could read your mind, because as you continued to kiss, Thrawn undid the buttons of his blazer and he cast it aside, proceeding to remove the shirt that covered his skin. With a light moan, you let your hands roam free towards his trousers and undid the belt, button, and zipper, and soon enough, he’d lost all the clothing on his body. You felt his fingertips curling around your panties, spreading the fabric enough to pull it down and let it fall at your feet. His hands explored your curves before he led you towards the bed, letting you lie on your back and taking his place beside you, his broad frame hovering over you.

He kissed your lips again, and you sank into the mattress below as you felt your body shiver with his touch. Thrawn’s fingertips had found your inner thighs, tracing ever so softly and igniting your senses, prompting you to spread your legs nice and slow as he continued to tease the sensitive skin leading up between your legs. You felt your pulse come alive in your clit, aching for his touch, hoping he wouldn’t keep you waiting for so long. Thrawn had been such a gentleman ever since you’d met… surely he wouldn’t let you down when he’d already been doing so well.

Thrawn’s lips curved into a seductive smile, and finally, he traced a sole fingertip from your entrance and up your cunt, dragging the wetness over your sensitive flesh. You couldn’t help the ecstatic moan that left you, and Thrawn wasted no more time. With precision, he began to rub circles around your clit slowly, letting you feel everything. As your breath deepened, your body started squirming under him, a sight he welcomed with lust. His lips were on yours again, and you kissed him hungrily. Your pants became shorter with every moment that passed, already nearing your release.

But as much as Thrawn wanted you, he wouldn’t be impatient. He would take his time, do it right, the way he approached everything else. His fingers gave your clit a rest, making you whimper in the absence of his touch. Thrawn emerged from your lips and looked into your eyes as he took his fingers down and placed them at your entrance, sliding one slender, long finger inside you and curling it, pressing your sweetest spot. Pleasure instantly flooded your senses, and you felt as if you’d just had a secret revealed to you of the magnitude of the universe itself.

No one had ever made you feel that way.

You grind your hips against his hand, aching for more friction, and Thrawn obliged. The pace with which he fingered you increased just slightly, applying more pressure to set your mind ablaze, and the rest of his hand pressed slightly on your clit, giving you some very welcome sensations on the pearl of nerves. Your tiny whimpers escalated in pitch and in frequency the closer you got, with your hands gripping his hair behind his head, until soon you felt yourself tightening around his finger and your body quivering. Your whimpers became uncontrollable moans, each filled with burning ecstasy. Your head pressed back onto the pillow, and as your body shook, you felt your wetness dripping out between your legs as you rode out your orgasm, never wanting it to stop.

Before you were overstimulated, Thrawn retrieved his hand and pulled you towards him. Now he was lying on his back and you were sitting on the bed, panting to catch your breath. He pulled you closer, prompting you to get on top of him, and you stopped only momentarily to gasp at his erection, long and hard and ready for you. You placed your hands firmly on his muscular chest, steadying yourself, and you opened your legs and shimmied down until you felt his tip at your entrance.

A short moan escaped Thrawn when you slid yourself down on him. You were slow, taking in every moment you could as he stretched you out inside, painful and beautiful all at once. His length was fully inside you, and with a firm grip on your hips, Thrawn thrust up and down, beginning at a slow, luxurious pace. You threw your head back, moaning, then looked down to bask in the sight of his muscular build clenching and relaxing with his movements. You bent over and let your lips kiss whatever spot of Thrawn’s skin was in reach, and the new position gave you a mind-blowing angle for his length to lavish your inner walls, brushing past the spots he’d already left so sensitive from your previous orgasm. Thrawn’s pace quickened, nuzzling your face so that your lips could find his, and locked in a kiss, you continued basking in the bliss.

His hands then firmly grasped your ass and he turned you over on the bed, now on top of you. While Thrawn’s pace had initially been that of a gentleman, slow and at your service, you could tell he’d decided to let go of any bars holding him. His hips hammered into you faster, his teeth baring in a hungry grimace as a single low growl escaped him, and in return, you whimpered delicately as you let him have his way with you. Thrawn was moving faster than you ever could have thought possible for any man, but even that thought would be erased from your mind when you saw white. Your long, ecstatic moans filled the entirety of his quarters when your walls clenched around his girth and your body quaked underneath him, with his name and his rank escaping you loosely before those words became nothing but helpless little whines.

As Thrawn felt himself approaching his release, he lowered himself down on you to kiss your lips. You whimpered into him just as your second orgasm had died down, escalating obscenely quickly into a third one, the sensations peaking when your orgasm blended with his and you felt him release inside you before he relaxed his body on top of you.

After such an endeavor, you had no headspace left for anything but lying there beside him. You heard Thrawn whisper a few words to you, but you couldn’t make sense of any of what he said. The last thing you could register as you curled up on your side was the feeling of a blanket being draped over you and a pair of lips softly pressing a kiss to your forehead, and after that, you were done for the night.

Your sleep was dreamless, and when you woke up the morning after, you didn’t see Thrawn beside you. As you sat up, you felt a beautiful lingering soreness between your legs, and you couldn’t help but giggle to yourself as you remembered the events of the previous night, not just your time alone with Thrawn, but everything that led up to it. The curtain had been lifted from the window, and you saw outside that the sun was well up in the sky, and yet, you didn’t have a worry in the world.

You got out of the bed with the blanket wrapped around your body, and on the nightstand, you noticed a tray with a piece of bread, a glass of juice, and a tiny vase with a single red rose on it. You grinned brightly and felt your cheeks getting hot, and you reached for the little parchment that rested beside the plate of bread, smiling as you read the fine calligraphy.

Have a beautiful day. See you tonight.

You lay on the bed again, smiling with a dreamy sigh and holding the parchment in your hand as you let your mind wonder what you’d do with your newfound time and freedom until the night came and you could see your lover again.

Thank you so much for reading! If you liked this, please consider reblogging to support me ❤️

Back to my masterlist

[gingeralecranberry]

CHAPTER 3

𝟐-𝟑 ; 𝐚 𝐟𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐫

I FEEL NOTHING

☺︎ cw:

gojo satoru is still a menace, maybe ooc?, this chapter is pretty tame it's kind of just following the motions for once strangely enough, gojo satoru is a lovesick fool, megumi fushiguro remains an edgy teen, itadori yuji is like the only normal one here, yaga as adoptive family teehee, canon typical violence, yuji gets his ass handed to him momentarily, yuji is quickly proving to be the favorite child???

‘That old dude’s making cute things!’ 

Perhaps it might have brought someone else comfort but the strange, grumpy, tall, and undoubtedly stronger-looking man hunched over a personal felting project didn’t help with the anxious pounding in Itadori’s chest.  Especially not with the creepy, candlelit ambience. 

Much like the rest of the campus, the principal’s office was extremely traditional looking. From the same dark wood framing the same off-white walls, human-sized calligraphy talisman, tatami mats, and sliding shoji doors, the interior office matched the exterior building. 

Despite wearing a uniform nearly identical to Gojo’s, the two sorcerers couldn’t give off energies any more different.  With his lanky build and messy hair, not to mention his childish attitude, it was difficult to take Satoru seriously.  Yaga, on the other hand, nonverbally demanded respect from everyone in the room.   His eyes were obscured by the orange tint of his sunglasses, but Yuji could still feel the intense glare shifting between the three men entering the room.  His jaw was set in a stern frown, goatee only adding to his commanding aura.  His booming voice radiated authority, snapping the teen out of his momentary trance. 

“Satoru,” he called, abruptly setting aside his tools, “I thought the day may never come.” 

A tense moment of silence passed before the corner of his mouth twitched up in a smile that seemed a little unnatural on his tense features. 

“...you’re here a minute early.” 

The younger man frowned, upturning his nose indignantly, “Haha, laugh it up while you can, old man.  Be glad I didn’t have anything more important to do.” 

Having mentored him for so long, it was naturally (name)’s instinct to correct him.  “Respect your elders, you big baby.”  Two calloused fingers pinched on the white haired sorcerer’s earlobe, tugging downward, “I might be the one who dragged you here on time, but he’s still your boss.” 

Gojo swatted his hand away with an even deeper frown, making a noise not all that different from a wounded animal while he sulked. 

Biting back an unprofessional smile, the principal cleared his throat. The hair on the back of Yuji’s neck stood up as the man’s orange lenses locked with his eyes, “That’s the boy?”

“Yeah,” (surname) hummed, crossing his arms against his chest,  “Do me a favor and go easy on him.” 

Taking a momentary break from his brooding, Satoru perked up, pausing to take a look at the back of (name)’s head. 

Instead of acknowledging how out of character it was for the man to request anything, attention was directed back at Yuji.  In turn, however, it felt like the boy’s fight or flight activated…but in a strange non-confrontational way?  Much like he did everything else, his instincts told him to run into things head first. 

He gave a respectful ninety-degree bow, raising his voice, “Itadori Yuji! I’m into girls like Jennifer Lawrence! Pleasure to meet you!” 

“...”

“Ahem-”

Quietly, trying to stifle a surprised laugh, (name) tried to cough discreetly into his hand.  Gojo, on the other hand, made no attempt to hide his amusement, a devilish grin rising onto his previously pouty expression.  Thankfully, our poor student remained completely oblivious.  

Unwilling to let two immature special grades interrupt his interview, Yaga’s voice sliced through the tense silence without difficulty, “What did you come here for?” 

With the innocence of a child, Itadori lifted his head.  Clearly confused, he gave an equally confused answer, “...an interview…?” 

Taking this as his queue, the older of the two “immature special grades” made his way off to the side of the room to take a backseat to the principal’s teaching shenanigans.  He made a motion with his neck to his former student, trying to get him to follow suit. 

Masamichi Yaga, the towering presence he was, stood tall as he asked his next question.  “But why Jujutsu Tech?” 

Still unsure of the deeper meaning behind any of his questions, Yuji sheepishly gave an answer that was equally as straightforward as his first, “To learn jujutsu…?”

(name) turned back to look at Satoru, only to find the idiot still standing in the middle of the room.  

“I mean beyond that,” Yaga continued, “What do you hope to find once you’ve studied curses and learned how to exorcise them?” 

Hastily, the special grade backtracked, flicking the younger one on the forehead, prompting a quiet, ‘ow!’ 

“Well, I mean…” the teenager scratched his head, standing up fully from his previous bow, “I’m going to collect the fingers of Sukuna.  It’s dangerous to leave them as is.” 

(surname)’s hands made a reappearance, tugging on his stubborn coworker’s bony wrist as he dragged a reluctant Satoru off to the side of the room.  Of course, this didn’t go without some auditory protest.

Yaga crossed his burly arms over his chest, frowning, “Why?” 

Yuji blinked. 

“People you’ll never know die everyday due to crimes, accidents, and diseases in the natural course of life.”  He tilted his head to the side in an effort to provoke, “But you’re telling me you can’t overlook it when that death is caused by a curse?” 

Itadori opened his mouth, wrangling for an answer in his surprise.  “It was someone’s dying wish,” he countered, “I don’t care about the details.  I just want to save people!” 

Yaga’s frown curled into a grimace, “A dying wish?”  His nose crinkled with disdain as he lowered his chin, “You’re saying you’ll fight curses because someone else told you to?”

“...”

With the lack of a clear response, the principal raised his hand, pointing a finger at the student in question, “You fail!” 

The low thrum of cursed energy pulsed through the air only for a few seconds before trickling into the body of one of Yaga’s older cursed corpses.  It’s mint green body twitched, beady eyes gradually gaining a glimmering sheen of life.  

Cathy arose, teeth gnashing against one another, antsy little mitts poised and ready to strike. 

“Those weren’t dolls?!” 

The stuffed animal bounced back and forth, alternating feet with a wicked giggle. 

“Cursed corpses,” Yaga’s arm fell back to his side, his own smile gracing his normally stoic features, “They’re dolls infused with my curse.” 

(surname) squeezed his eyes shut to avoid looking at the impending strike. 

Cathy lunged, fists first, at the stunned Itadori aiming straight for the gut.  Even in his shock, the vessel managed to whip his backpack off his shoulder and use it as an impromptu brace for his stomach.   Still, despite the stuffed fist’s cushioned landing, he was sent sprawling backwards into one of the room’s many drywall pillars. 

“Ugh-”

The older of the two bystanders sucked in sharply through his teeth, finally peeling his eyes open to peer at the damage.  The pillar cracked with the brunt weight of the blow, bent into a subtle v shape.  On the other hand, Gojo shook his head, his usual carefree smile back across his cheeks again. “Ooh, that couldn’t have felt good.” 

Itadori inhaled through his chest, breathing a little labored after having the wind knocked out of him, “Is that… really just a doll?”

Completely ignoring his question, Yaga clenched his hand into a fist, “A person’s true nature reveals itself during a crisis,” he brought it in front of his chest in a swift motion, “I’ll keep attacking you until I get an acceptable answer!”

He was completely unaware of when he’d gotten so swept up in the encounter, but Gojo placed a hand on his mentor’s shoulder, “Hey… hey!” 

(name) blinked a few times, casting over a glance, “What?”

Yuji grit his teeth, hands balling up as tightly as humanly possible, “Look man, it wasn’t just ‘someone else’,” He burst forth from his previous nook in the pillar, “It was a family member’s dying wish!” 

He landed a brutal punch straight to Cathy’s gut, sending the mint green terror bouncing off the walls.  The shockwave rippled throughout the room, only making the presence of a second person’s cursed energy more apparent. 

“Your binding vow thingy, you’re starting to siphon some of my infinity,” Satoru noted matter-of-factly.  He tacked on an amused chortle, “Don’t tell me you’re actually getting this worked up about a student interview.” 

“A family member is still, ‘someone else’,” Yaga quipped, crossing his arms once again. 

The pink-haired vessel watched with calculated interest as the round sack of fluff flew around the room, clenching his jaw as he noted, ‘Right, it’s a doll… It doesn’t get hurt or frightened.’ 

“A jujutsu sorcerer is constantly facing death, and not just their own,” Yaga added, trying to drive his point home. “Sometimes, you must ignore those murdered by a curse to rend the flesh from it.  It’s an unpleasant job, you have to be a little crazy and highly motivated to handle it.  You’d do that because someone else told you to?” A dry huff resounded from the principal’s throat, “Don’t make me laugh! It’d be more believable if you told me you were doing this to postpone your execution!” 

“Screw you!” the teen cursed, “I-”

(name) gritted his teeth, “Shut up, this is different.”  As quickly as the balloon of cursed energy expanded, it shrunk. “He doesn’t know anything about sorcery. “ 

Gojo leaned in impossibly close to the other bystander, “So you are? Don’t tell me you’re going all soft on me, Sensei.” 

Callously, the older man taunted, “Are you going to blame your grandfather when you’re killed by a curse, too?!” 

Itadori completely stopped in his tracks, eyes widening as he stared at Yaga in disbelief.  His jaw hung open, momentarily left to catch flies.   The room felt too still and far too quiet for a moment. 

“Don’t act like you don’t hate conscripting child soldiers as much as I do, Satoru,” (surname) murmured, staring ahead, “They’ve got enough on their plates, kid’s already worrying about dying in a few years.” 

Satoru didn’t answer.

Finally, Yuji swallowed a hunk of spit down his dry throat, “You say some pretty damn harsh things, old man.” 

The principal didn’t bend.  He willingly engaged in a staredown with his prospective student, giving a flippant, “Education is making people realize things.” 

Ever ready to engage, Itadori opened his mouth again to voice a rebuttal, “I’m not really-” 

‘WHAM!’ 

Having been all but forgotten in the heat of the conversation, Cathy had managed to plant a devastating sucker punch straight to the interviewee’s face. 

“...Whatever, sorry to bring it to such a dark place,” the former teacher huffed, brushing any stray hairs from his face, “I’ll keep things in check.” 

“Nah, you don’t need to apologize,” Gojo corrected, a smaller smile on his lips, “The system needs some reworking; why else do you think I would’ve picked up a teaching job?” 

“...”

“It’s not easy to imagine how you’ll feel on the verge of death.  However, I can say one thing for certain,” Yaga’s voice boomed, “At the rate you’re going, you could end up cursing your beloved grandfather.  Jujutsu sorcerers never die without regret.” 

“...”

“I’ll ask you once more, why have you come here to Jujutsu Tech?” 

The thoughts in Itadori’s mind raged like a typhoon, whipping and colliding with one another each and every second. 

‘Why had he come to jujutsu tech?’

‘What reason did he have to sacrifice everything to fight curses?’ 

‘Why him?’

Yet, in a split second, his thoughts converged into an answer. 

Cathy, having been on standby, readied its fists for yet another easy mark.  

‘I was always better than most in sports and in fights… but never once did I think “This is something only I can do.”’

With the same evil little cackle, the cursed corpse launched itself from its standing point next to its master, hands outstretched and ready to connect. 

But they never did. 

With a new determination and courage shining in his sickeningly sweet, honey-toned amber eyes, Itadori faced yaga once again.  His arms ready, but instead of attempting to land another punch, he waited for the monstrosity to come to him. 

It landed against his chest with a resounding ‘THUD!’.  Before it could reel back for another hit, however, his open arms snapped shut like a bear trap, tightening like a vice around what would’ve been the curse’s neck.  

“Consuming Sukuna is something only I can do.”

Behind his spectacles, Yaga’s eyes seemed to soften. 

Kneeled, close to the ground, Cathy wrenched its body around in an attempt to escape the prison it found itself in.  Yuji, on the other hand, remained steadfast.  “If I managed to escape my death sentence and ran away from this responsibility, I’d be there, eating food, taking a bath, reading manga… But the moment I stopped to think, I’d go, ‘Oh, I bet someone’s dying because of Sukuna right now’, and I’d become depressed.” 

The principal looked at him, impassive. 

“‘That doesn’t involve me.  It’s not my fault…’” The same brown eyes hardened with an inexplicable anger, “You expect me to just tell myself that?  I refuse to do that!” 

His hands trembled as his forearms pressed impossibly further into the stuffed animal’s nonexistent stuffed throat, “I don’t know how I’ll feel when I’m dying, but I don’t want to regret the way I lived!” 

“...”

The boy’s words reverberated around the room as all three adults stood in silence.  

“...”

“Satoru.” 

The teacher perked up.

 “Show him to the dorm, explain the security and everything else to him too.”

With a smile, the principal offers the crouched teen a hand, “You pass, welcome to Jujutsu Tech.” 

Yuji’s face lights up, arms going lax as a brilliant smile begins to cross his cheeks. 

Cathy, of course, doesn’t seem to share the same sentiments.  

“Gather.” 

With a flick of the sorcerer’s wrist, the squirming corpse falls silent again, a few strandlike pieces of cursed energy seemingly pulled from the strange bald spot on its head.

“Ah,” 

“Yeah, you forgot to release your technique again, geezer.” 

“Wow, this place is huge!” 

The overeager boy zipped around the large, empty room.  Unlike the rest of the campus, it wasn’t… as traditional looking?  That wasn’t to say that it wasn’t traditional looking.  It had the same basic structure as the rest of the buildings on campus, but the full-length glass window gave it a touch of modernity.  

The room itself was basic, bare bones.  There wasn’t much to look at in terms of furniture and even less to look at in terms of decor.  There was a bed frame, a desk, a rolling desk chair, and a wardrobe.  Of course, there was a functioning AC and a hanging light, but those didn’t exactly count as furniture.  

“All the second and third-years are out at the moment, but you’ll meet them soon enough.  There aren’t many of them.” 

Leaning on a tall stack of boxes containing all of Itadori’s worldly belongings, Gojo watched the boy bounce around the room.  There was a strange sense of glee and life the boy carried with him everywhere.  Happiness, joy, and excitement were things the Jujutsu world lacked.  So, in short, it was nice to see it up close every now and then. 

Comedically, the boy opened his own wardrobe to shout “Anybody hooomeee?!” 

Almost imperceptibly, the white-haired sorcerer’s smile grew just a little bit.  “You know, there’s really no reason for you to fight, is there?” 

The teen, who had been taping up his favorite Jennifer Lawrence poster, paused to turn back to the other man supervising him. 

He raised a finger, as he characteristically did when he was speaking, “Fushiguro and I could retrieve Sukuna’s fingers… You could just wait here.” 

“It’s fine!” Itadori vehemently shook his head, smoothing out any potential wrinkles in the bathing suit-clad woman on the paper, “I said I’d do it, and I’m doing it!” 

However as another moment passed, it seemed he was rethinking his statement, “Though, lazing around…” his thoughts drifted, eyes narrowing as he pictured less than battle-worthy version of his classmate sticking his head through the door, “...while Fushiguro came in all beat up to bring me a finger would be a funny sight…”

Gojo hummed, knowingly, “That’s true.” As quickly as he indulged the boy though, he swiftly shifted gear, “Well, I know there’s no way in hell you’re not gonna fight.” 

“Wh- Hey!” The student protested, springing up from the bed to point an accusatory finger, “You were testing me?!” 

Before he could launch into any further arguments, his teacher seemingly materialized a few inches away from his face out of thin air.  The finger he was previously waving around was held up in front of Itadori’s face. 

“Ah…” 

An awkward amount of time went by before Gojo said anything else, “If they were that easy to find, we would’ve found them already.”  

Yuji stared back at him, just as confused as he was previously. 

Satoru pivoted on his foot, “Some have a presence that’s overwhelming, some keep very quiet… others have already been absorbed by a cursed spirit.”  He slammed his fist into his other open palm, “There’s nothing more troublesome when it comes to searching for them.” 

Itadori cocked his head to the side. 

“But now we have you!” 

The teacher clapped his hands together excitedly, whirling to look back at the other person in the room.  “You see, the Sukuna within you will tell us where the fingers are to try and regain his power.”  Very happily, he clasped his hands together, “You’re both a vessel and locator, our very own radar!”  

“...?”

Gesturing to the door, Satoru continued, “That’s how I know we won’t get anywhere without you in the field.” 

Walking through the door his teacher had so kindly opened for him, Itadori scratched his chin.  “You think he’s going to be that nice?” 

Closing the door behind him, Gojo dismissed him with a wave of the hand, “I think we can come to a win-win agreement here.” 

As the two traversed down the hallway of student dorms, another door creaked open one room over.   

“...You’re next door?” 

Fushiguro, despite still not being in the best shape, looked to be doing significantly better.  Instead of virtually covering every square inch of his body,  the bandages and remaining wounds were a lot fewer and further inbetween courtesy Shoko’s technique.  With his tousled hair, deep eyebags, and messy pajamas, it was obvious he’d just crawled out of his bed. 

“Oh, Fushiguro!” Itadori smiled, raising yet another energetic thumbs up, “You look like you’re doing well now!” 

Despite being more than cordial and friendly in his opening, Megumi completely ignored his new classmate to talk one on one with Gojo, “There were plenty of other rooms, weren’t there?” 

“But isn’t livelier better?” Satoru shrugged, gesturing to Itadori’s room, “I thought it’d be good for–” 

Fushiguro cut him off with a scowl, “Classes and missions are enough, this was an unwelcome favor.” 

While being ignored, Yuji took the opportunity to peek past the other teen’s shoulder and into his own dorm.  His eyes widened, announcing, “Wow, it’s so organized!” 

Suddenly deciding to acknowledge his presence, Fushiguro slammed the door shut on Itadori’s head, “I just said you’re unwelcome!” 

“Erk!” 

“Maybe try to be a little bit more delicate around the head.” 

The three bickering men turned their heads back to the familiar voice coming from the end of the hall.  

(name) approached with his hands in his pockets, brushing shoulders with Satoru before closing in on the dorm door.  Gently pressing his hands to the side of Yuji’s skull, he pulled it away from the slam zone.  “He just got a rude awakening to sorcery in Yaga’s office, I’d give him some grace.” 

Paying no mind to the hands on his head, Itadori pondered, “Ah, speaking of Principal Yaga, how did your meeting with him go, (surname)-sensei?”

The older man paused, scrunching up his face, “Eh…” 

“Why don’t you ever visit home anymore?” 

“Your eyebags are getting worse, are you sleeping properly?”

“Are you even eating?! You’ve lost so much weight!”

“You need to be a better influence for your younger brother, he looks up to you!” 

“You’re going to send me into an early retirement, I can feel my hair turning gray already…” 

The special grade shrugged, “Like they usually do.   He’s caring when he tries to be.” 

“If you missed me at the school so much, you could’ve just called me or asked me to come home over text.” 

“Ah, but then I worry I might be interrupting you in the middle of something important.” 

“...Even if he’s annoying about the way he does it.” 

Satoru sighed fondly off to the side, “If that isn’t Yaga-sensei.” 

(surname) kicked him in the shin, “I’d agree with anyone else who said that but you.” 

Gojo let out a yelp as he stepped back to cradle his wounded leg, “Do I seriously need to keep my infinity up to the max around you?!” 

While Fushiguro gave an amused huff, Yuji looked back at the white-haired sorcerer jumping on a single leg while nursing his new bruise incredulously. 

“Ignore him,” the older sorcerer stated, patting Yuji’s shoulders a couple times.  “There was really only one interesting thing about my meeting with Yaga, but boiled down, he asked me a favor and I’m not really all that inclined to deny my old man any requests.” 

He started off back down the hall, “Jujutsu High’s going to be stuck with me for a couple years, so make sure I don’t catch you slacking off.  Oh, and,” he turned over his shoulder, “Make sure the two of you are well-rested tomorrow morning, we’ve got a busy day ahead of us.” 

JAZMIN BEAN : FAVORITE TOY

☺︎ taglist:

@angelkazusstuff @ahoeindeedinneed @wutap @mysouleaten @ilovebattinson @satansdaughter123 @http-l-o-k-i @rinaizha

masterlist: ☓

[lost-in-fiction-like-ur-mom]

You're Different

Crosshair x Reader

Summary- Ever since Crosshair made a snide comment about leaving a team member to die, you've had a lingering thought. Even though you knew he loved you, doubts rose.

A/N- Crosshair is my favorite clone, but also hard to write. Apologies if he's OOC! Feel free to LMK how I can improve XoXo

Word Count- 995

"Well I think you're letting your personal feelings get involved. You're just guilty because you left Echo at the Citatdel. Oh, I don't blame you. I'd have left him for dead too..."

The words sent chills down your spine. You couldn't pinpoint why. Crosshair says rash things all the time. He's always cold and negative, secretly you love it about him. But, leaving a team member- a brother for dead? Just because?

Well... he'd never do that to you, right? Crosshair loves you, you know that. But what was he capable of doing when he put his 'personal feelings' aside?

You came back to reality when Hunter instructed everyone to scout the area, look for a better way up the mountain into the tower.

You hurried in your step to walk next to Crosshair, something he preferred to keep you safer. His hands tightly gripped his rifle, a subtle way, you noticed, to release his anger.

He kept a keen eye for any kind of disturbance, more on edge than usual. You noticed, but was at a loss for how to bring it up. Your doubts clouded you.

'I'd have left him for dead too...' You brought a hand up to tug at your glove nervously. You couldn't even focus on the mission, 'Well I think you're letting your personal feelings get involved.' You had to clear your head, he wasn't talking about you. He would never.

Your head shot up at the yell of your name, followed by- 'Crosshair, scout the East terrain, we will go West." Hunter commanded.

"Yes, sir." You responded instinctively, Crosshair nodding and turning.

You didn't even notice that Crosshair stopped and waited for you to catch up. You squinted your eyes behind your helmet and pushed back any thoughts.

Everything went smooth for a minute, silence consuming the air. Just the gentle sound of rocks crunching under your feet. It helped you shift your focus back to your surroundings, eyes searching for any intruders or a possible entrance to the tower.

While it was usually a calm and comfortable silence between you two, this was not. The air was thick, and needed cutting. You wondered if he noticed it as well.

"What's wrong with you?" His gravel voice started. He did notice it...

You snapped in his direction, you could practically see his scowl through his helmet.

"Nothing. I'm fine." You continued to walk.

"Stop that, we don't do the whole 'lie' thing." He was right, he always seemed to be. You could hear him fiddling with his rifle, but you didn't turn to look at him.

"Lets just focus on the mission, I wouldn't want my 'personal feelings' to get in the way." You said, picking up your step. You hated the way you jumped to conclusions. Sarcasm drips from your words. Passive aggressiveness was something you and Crosshair shared with many people, but rarely each other.

"Cut the shit." He said, grabbing your forearm. This took you by surprise, but it shouldn't have. He made sure to glance around the area, then took off his helmet.

"What Cross?" You were sour, having been lost in your thoughts.

You took off your helmet as well, then crossed your arms. You challenged him with a look in the eyes.

"It doesn't take my defect to know something is bothering you. We can't let it affect the mission. What is it?" He says fiercely. While he did seem pretty rude and demanding, it was more care then he'd show anyone else.

"So it's just about this mission?" Damn it, why would you say that. Especially after Crosshair was actually trying to find out what was wrong.

He scoffs and leans against a large rock. "Fine, screw up the mission for all I care." He puts a pick in between his teeth, then cocks his rifle. You don't flinch a bit when he shoots a small surveillance droid behind your left shoulder. You keep your eyes trained on his.

"I wouldn't leave you." He says, chewing on the pick, and lowering the rifle.

"Wha-"

"I know when something is bothering you."

"Yeah but, how-" He cuts you off again, stepping close to you. inches away.

"I'm always watching." He says, a smirk present.

You give him a playful smack on the arm, he just laughs. With a sigh the situation becomes serious again.

"Really?" You looked up at him,

"I was just trying to get under Rex skin. You know we don't leave brothers behind." You smiled, bigger than you had all day.

"What if I was a reg?" You say, now pulling at his arm so he was closer.

"But you're not, you're different." He points out, flicking his pick to the ground.

He deeply inhaled through his nose, pressing his forehead down onto yours. You were silent and still after closing your eyes to enjoy the moment.

Suddenly you heard a third parties movement. You dropped into a squat, Crosshair bringing his rifle to balance on your shoulder plate. The two of you worked in perfect unison.

It was just Wrecker.

"What are you two doing?" He asks, dumbfounded on what he walked upon.

"Uhm, nothing. This side's clear." You said, slowly turning around.

Crosshairs rifle was still cocked and ready with his finger on the trigger. Even in the heat of the moment, he was able to defend.

You swallowed, thinking about how attractive he was in that second.

"Hunter needs us back at the cliff. They found a way in." Wrecker says before heading off.

"We're coming." Crosshair says, annoyed.

You turn and smile at him before putting your helmet back on.

He does the same and follows closely behind you.

"Hey," He starts, grabbing your attention. "You can pull that with anyone you want, but next time just tell me. It goes a lot faster that way." Crosshair was sweet and gentle in his own way. He was saying 'I love you.'

"I love you too, Cross."

A/N- Thank you so much for reading! I'm not super proud of this one, I think I rushed it. I love Crosshair sm, but I have no idea how to write him.

Tags- (lmk if you want to be tagged as well!) @thethreeeyed-raven @knight-of-flowerss