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mostlycompetentwriter · 7 months ago

Text

Thunderous

Pairing: Fem!Reader x Bang Chan

Word Count: 11K

Genre: Werewolf AU! Royalty AU!

Warnings: There are some elements of non-con in this fanfic. Please don’t read if you don’t like those elements. Mentions of knotting and rough sex. There’s also a lot of explicit smut and language throughout.

Summary: The Wolf King’s name seared your heart. You had been chosen as the youngest and most expendable daughter to be his mate. But you were terrified of the legends surrounding his bloody campaigns. How were you going to survive?

Tag List: @armystay89 @captainchrisstan @starseekersworld @melsunshine @kibs-and-bits

The Wolf King’s name whispered through the trees and hummed between the villages like the ancient stories of the gods.

Some of the villagers claimed that he could transform—bones cracking and teeth elongating until there was no man left. They said his claws could cut through trees and that his howl silenced the instincts of the mountain lions who cowered in their dens. In place of human skin, fur sprouted thick and rough, darkening until it matched the color of the shadows.

The myth and lore had been passed down for years, and you found yourself on the receiving end of all those stories. As the Wolf King’s future mate, you had also become something of an enigma around the kingdom. People looked at you with a glint of respect, bowing their heads and moving out of your way whenever you made your rounds.

The attention that you hated. Especially when the marriage had been arranged without your willing compliance. Young girl fantasies of handsome princes and distant lands vanquished in an instant. But even if you couldn’t indulge in happiness anymore, there had been a time when you allowed yourself to dream about your wedding.

Bubbling colors of red and green—like your kingdom’s annual yuletide celebrations—and a long, flowing white gown extending across the floor like an elegant brush of paint. Pure as you had always been. There was beautiful music in your dream, and a gorgeous prince to take you into his arms and glide you across the floor like the clouds moving in the sky.

Fantasies, indeed.

Instead, of merriment and goodwill, you found yourself trembling from head to toe, holding tight to the sleeve of your handmaiden’s gown as she escorted you through the recital hall, down the aisle to where you recognized the Wolf King waiting.

You had only met him twice before. Once, when you had just turned twelve, on the day your families agreed to meet over the prospect of securing peace between your rival kingdoms.

When you were both little children, the Wolf King had no reputation. He was just a boy, and you greeted him with a smile—ignorant of the true purpose of your first meeting. While your parents talked about the future, you showed the Wolf King your favorite flowers, handing him individual stems while your mother bargained your life away:

“A union is our commitment to peace,” your mother had once proclaimed, reaching out to softly pat your curls. “We think they’ll do well together.”

“Yes.” But Chan’s mother didn’t seem convinced. She was an elegant and beautiful woman with long black hair and bright red eyes to match his defining features. “Chan will decide who he wants to marry,” his mother said.

“Y/N will make a good wife when she comes of age,” your mother insisted. “We’ll hire the best teachers to ensure that she is prepared for her duties.”

“That matters little to us,” Chan’s father spoke, and he regarded you like one might grimace at an annoying ant to step on.

You shied away from his intimidating stare, looking instead at Chan as he designed a flower crown for you, placing it on top of your head with a proud smile.

It was the last time he would ever show such kindness.

Over the years proceding your first meeting, Chan became a man, and his reputation for ruthlessness and fury ignited a storm of gossip.

“The Wolf King stands taller than the gods!”

“The Wolf King slaughtered a village because they refused to bow down to him!”

“He’s a monster! Have mercy on us all!”

You became terrified at any mention of the Wolf King, wondering if your parents were still serious about a union. You found out the hard way when your mother invited the Wolf King and his generals to your kingdom. But you didn’t stick around for very long.

The next time you met, you were sixteen, and you ran away to the gardens in a rare show of rebellion against your parents who had expected you to dress pretty and show off for Chan.

But that wasn’t in your nature, and your instincts screamed at you to avoid the Wolf King. And you thought that you were alone in the forest. Surrounded by the quiet of the thick foliage. But then you heard the bushes move, and you noticed a large black head peering at you with piercing red eyes.

You relaxed when you realized that it was just a common wolf—probably one from the mountain packs, and you weren’t frightened. Animals had always held a special place in your heart, and you approached the wolf with palms upturned to show your peaceful intentions. The wolf never moved, and you stroked your fingers through the coarse fur on his head.

You returned home that evening thinking your father would scold you for running off like that. But you were instead warmly greeted by your parents who were both ecstatic. “He agreed to marry you, Y/N!” your mother exclaimed. “Isn’t that wonderful?”

It wasn’t.

Not at all.

And you had never experienced real fear in your entire life. But walking down the aisle in the chapel to where the fearless Wolf King waited for you, there was a bone-chilling tremble aching down your spine.

“So beautiful,” you heard faint whispers join together, urging you closer and closer to the Wolf King who gazed at you with the most intense stare you had ever received.

When you were within earshot, the Wolf King snatched your hand from the poor handmaiden who had been helping you walk down the aisle.

The girl quickly jumped to the side, bowing her head as the Wolf King forced you to stand in front of him, reaching down for your other hand. You reluctantly gave it to him, still looking at everything except for the Wolf King’s eyes, even if the little growl he gave showed that he disapproved.

You could hear your mother’s chastising voice in your head, scolding you for not pleasing the King. But you didn’t care anymore. Wasn’t it enough that you were standing there, giving your life away to a monster?

In the distant background, you could hear the priest delivering his lines, and when it was your turn, you gave your vow of allegiance, even if the words fell hot like acid from your unwilling tongue.

Thankfully, the ceremony did not require you to kiss him, dodging his wayward lips when they fell too close to yours.

There was a rush when the proceedings concluded, the firm ushering of hands leading you out of the chapel. You stumbled in your heels, bringing yourself inadvertently closer to the Wolf King who held tighter to your waist. You did not enjoy the closeness, swallowing down your nerves as you tried not to think about what came next.

The crowd eventually parted, giving you enough space to walk down the steps in the open air, briefly acknowledging the cheering crowd spread through the streets. There was a distinct awe in the noise from the people around you, clambering over one another to get a good like at yourself and the predator who would soon claim you for his own. Wanting to acquaint themselves with your kingdom’s bargaining chip—a small sacrifice to ensure an alliance between your people and the ones who fought under Chan’s domain.

On paper, it seemed like a worthy solution to helping your kingdom protect its borders and fight off invaders. The problem was that you felt the weight of pleasing a man you had no interest in—someone who frightened you to your core. A sick knot tightened in your guts and your stomach clenched tighter as Chan led you to Castle Miroh—the notorious landmark of his territory symbolizing the power of the ruling family.

As the main doors parted, you winced at the sensation of the cold and harsh air inside, and a shiver passed down your spine as you forced yourself to keep up with Chan’s incessant pace, footsteps clacking against marble. It was dark in the corridors, and the only lighting came from the flames ensconced along the walls, casting everything in shadows. Ahead in the distance, you could see the outline of a grand staircase, and your eyes worked tirelessly to mark each step on your darkened path.

It turned out that Chan kept his quarters on the highest floor, latching your fingers together the entire time, even as you forced down the bile permanently hitched at the back of your throat at the thought of all the blood that had stained those hands.

At the top of the staircase, you were pulled to the left, marching down an impressive corridor with a soft, velvet carpet beneath your soles. Eventually, you found yourself in front of a large, wooden door, and Chan ushered you through the frame, a hand to your lower back as your eyes paused on the King-sized bed waiting beneath an unholy painting of a bloody battle scene.

You will present yourself to the Wolf King, you recalled the words of your tutor. He will expect obedience from his mate.

You blinked away tears, knowing what you were expected to do next, and deciding to push through your nerves before you lost the contents of your stomach on the floor. Every fiber of your being screamed at you to run, but you ignored your instincts, loosening the straps of your dress to allow it to pool into a mess on the floor at your feet, and kicking it aside as you eliminated the remaining distance to the bed.

You didn’t want to show him that you were weak. That he had any sort of influence that might condemn you a coward. You could not be seen as pathetic in the eyes of a monster, crawling on hands and knees to the center of the bed, head ducked down between your trembling arms and waiting.

Your breath caught when the bed dipped beneath his weight, and you gritted your teeth, feeling his hands take your hips with a powerful grip, nails digging into the soft skin.

The Wolf King will fuck you, your tutor had said, Then he will bite you to complete the mating ritual.

You had seen the Wolf King’s teeth. Sharp like razors and pointed at the ends. You would be a bloody mess at the end of this, but no one could ever accuse you of shirking your responsibilities. You had done everything expected of you, holding on to this thought of solace as you waited for him to take his fill.

“Don’t,” he abruptly whispered, startling you as he laid down on the mattress at your side, closing his eyes and letting out a grumble, completely unbothered with his own nakedness.

It must’ve happened while you were turned away, but it was still jarring to see so much pale skin on display, marred with jagged scars and scarlet bruises. Eyes trailing over the swell of his chest, over the ridges of his abs, and down to this impressive cock.

You swallowed hard. “Aren’t you going to fuck me?”

“No,” Chan said, chest deflating. “You do not want that.”

His response surprised you, and you wanted nothing more than to hurriedly tuck the sheet around your body to hide you from him. “I thought you were meant to-”

“We are equals,” Chan interrupted with a much firmer tone. “And you are afraid.”

Equals? The word didn’t seem right coming from him, but you weren’t about to question what was seemingly amounting to an act of mercy. Quick as a flash, you had the sheet bundled against your chest, eyes wide as you looked him over. “The mating-”

“We can do the bite,” Chan continued as if he didn’t care that he wasn’t fulfilling the only purpose you had been given. “But in the morning. The celebrations earlier exhausted me. Such frivolous trivialities.”

“Won’t they notice-”

“Who are they?” Chan barked with a hint of a growl that had you flinching. “There is no one who orders the King around.”

His dark pupils met yours in the dark, searching for something. You swallowed hard, unsure what he was looking for, but focusing on the calming sensation of relief flooding your system at his unexpected mercy. “Thank you.”

He gave a curt nod, dipping his head to the space next to him. “Sleep.”

You obeyed, wondering if you could sleep next to him, even if he had shown you some degree of kindness. It still didn’t erase his bloody reputation, and it worried you to no end that you would be sleeping next to a killer. Born to fight his way to power and rule over his kind.

You took a deep breath, holding tight to the sheet, and closing your eyes. Perhaps it was the roller coaster of emotions weighing down on you from the day’s events, but you did manage to find sleep, even if it was troubled. Nightmares of wolves following you through the woods, red irises piercing you from the shelter of the trees, and claws slicing through flesh.

You gasped when your eyes sprung open against an onslaught of bright, morning light, heart palpitating in your chest when you met those same eyes looking down at you from above. Chan was a step ahead of you as if he could predict your movements, grabbing your hands in one of his own to hold them above your head. One of his powerful thighs slung across your lower body, holding you in place with a strength that ignited a fire of burning adrenaline.

“Hold still,” he said, giving you no other warning before teeth sank into the side of your neck, and your body panicked, fighting against him. Like he might take a chunk out of your neck and leave you on the bed to bleed out. Crimson against the cream-colored sheets.

Immediately, a pulsating shock erupted from the site of the wound, forcing a scream from between your lips at the overwhelming pain. “I know,” he said, and it was barely discernible over the sounds of your cries, unashamed to lose all inhibitions at the sensation of a pain you had never experienced before.

The Wolf King moved over top of you, and you flinched when you felt his tongue start to lap at the painful bite mark on your shoulder. “The pain will stop soon,” he said. “I’m sorry you have to suffer.”

You held back a whine, digging your nails into the soft flesh of your palms. You supposed he had helped the sting, but it still felt like a piece of glass was being sliced across your skin. Even if the guilt and remorse in his gaze were almost enough to distract you.

“Relax,” he soothed, releasing your hands which instinctively went to wipe at your eyes, drying the salty wetness that had accumulated.

“I- I can’t...”

“You can because you are mine now,” he declared in a tone that had a different flame sparking in your chest.

You nodded against the pain, focusing on taking deep breaths, and letting darkness take you under once more.

When you woke again, the King was ready for you. He explained that you were needed in the Throne Room to meet some important people. It turned out that the King had three brothers. They were all younger than him. Or so you had been told.

Their names were Felix, Seungmin, and Jeongin. Feared and revered for their triumphs in battle.

Your Wolf King seemed proud to show them off, standing before you in an organized line: from oldest to youngest.

Felix reminded you of your own cousins, with his lithe figure, so much different from the King’s own bulk, and a head of flaming orange-red hair.

Next to him, in the middle, stood Seungmin. Dressed in dark clothes that only made his already dark hair even more onyx-black. Bright green eyes appraising you slowly.

Finally, there was Jeongin. The tallest of the three. And sporting the same dark-colored hair as his middle brother. He seemed to be the most innocent, eyes wide with wonder.

“They are here to support you,” Chan went on after introductions had passed. “Call on them if you need any help.”

Unlikely, but you forced a nod nonetheless.

“You are dismissed,” Chan informed them after you gave your acquiescence, and you watched them retreat in the same formation down the hall.

In their stead approached a shorter man, dressed in full battle attire. Well-muscled to stretch the fabric of his shirt and pants, with serious dark eyes. “My King,” the man said, bowing once. “You are needed on the training fields.”

You flinched when the man’s eyes found your neck, likely noting the swollen mess that Chan had left behind. “I’ll be there shortly, Changbin,” Chan said, and he waited until the man was gone before looking at you. “The Castle is yours, my Queen. Feel free to look around and acquaint yourself with your new home.”

“I will,” you whispered, forcing yourself to stay still when he leaned in to press a chaste kiss to your forehead.

“Tonight, we can eat together,” came his parting words, and you grimaced at the idea of sharing a meal with him.

But the concept of sharing a meal with him was nowhere near as horrible as the idea that this place could ever be considered your home. What a nasty thought! This place was nothing more than a prison forced upon you because your parents were desperate for Chan’s allegiance.

“Why did he agree?” you huffed to yourself, spinning on your heel to start the trek back to your room—as much as you could remember. “Leaving me here as if I know where anything is!”

For months leading up to your shared nuptials, you had pondered the reason why the powerful Wolf King had even agreed to marry you in the first place. Neither of your meetings had been particularly impactful, and your Kingdom had nothing to benefit his own; in fact, your alliance was more of a detriment to Chan and his people—a burden that he willingly took on.

You turned the corner to the last corridor, grateful that you had managed to retrace your steps, faltering when you noticed something on the floor outside of your door. You kneeled to retrieve it, glancing at the writing and noting with a happy hum that it was addressed from the Northern Highlands!

“Grace!” you exclaimed, clutching the envelope to your chest as you quickly rushed inside your room, glancing back to ensure the door was locked before hopping onto the bed to rip the contents open.

Dear Y/N,

Congratulations on your marriage to Bang Chan - it will be a strong alliance for our parents and their Kingdom.

I apologize for my absence - Hyunjin was unable to make the accommodations.

As you know, snowfall comes to the Highlands in the upcoming months. It will soon be impossible for me to journey to you, or for you to make the journey here. I’d love to see you and your new husband before it is difficult to do so.

Please write to me when you can to arrange a visit.

Lovingly,

Grace

You read over the letter twice before releasing a deep sigh. Would your Wolf King even indulge in such a trip? Perhaps it wasn’t even necessary for him to go. You could make the trip on your own.

You held fast to that thought, of getting away from your prison even if only for a few days, as you lounged around in your room for the remainder of the day. There was little to entertain yourself with, re-reading Grace’s letter over and over again, and sitting outside on the little veranda attached to your room to watch the clouds moving in the sky.

It would be another mercy to escape Chan’s presence if you were to head North alone, but you were afraid that you were pushing your luck, wincing when you heard the door to your chambers opening again, returning inside from your observation of the grounds to greet Chan as you were expected to do.

“My queen,” he rumbled, reaching out to hold your shoulders between both hands, a grip that was impossible to mistake. “Were you able to see more of the Castle?”

“Yes,” you lied through clenched teeth, only breathing a little easier when he released you, eyes dropping to the letter in your hands.

“What is that?”

“It is from my sister,” you explained.

“I see.”

“She wasn’t able to attend the wedding,” you went on, saving yourself a bit of time as you scrambled for the best way to drop the news to him. Maybe it would just be best to try a blunt approach, giving him your demands since he insisted on calling you an equal. “I wish to see my sister,” you said, refusing to meet his gaze. “Before it is too dangerous to make the trip to the Northern Highlands.”

Chan grunted at your request, and you weren’t well-versed in his language to know what that meant. “She invited you?”

“I can go alone,” you said. “If it is too much for you.”

“I would love to come with you,” he said, disregarding the determination in your tone. “It will give us more time to spend together on our own.”

“Oh.” Your gaze remained trained on the floor, hopes dashed that you could leave him behind.

“It will be nice to visit there,” he said. “I will make the arrangements. You may write her back to expect us very soon.”

“As you wish,” you sighed, trying to keep the disappointment from your tone, flinching when he grabbed one of your wrists. He didn’t seem perturbed by your reaction, and you watched as he pulled a delicate piece of jewelry from his pocket.

“Well?” he smiled, something that made you shiver. “What do you think?”

“What is it?” you asked in return, resisting the urge to pull back the wrist clasped between his scarred fingers. Even if you did manage to finally meet his gaze.

“It is a gift for you,” Chan said with a smile you were not expecting—blinding and warm. “I made it myself.”

“You made this?”

“As our traditions dictate,” he agreed, keeping a firm hold on your wrist to clasp the little bracelet around your delicate flesh. “It is meant to show our bond to the world.”

You studied it curiously, noting the simple design and the small wolf-shaped carvings engraved in the metal. It was cold against your skin, even as the heat from his body balanced it out.

“Shall we eat?”

He dropped your wrist, and you were able to gather your bearings. “Of course.” You managed a nod, watching as he opened the door wide, allowing a small servant girl to enter the room.

The girl offered you both a respectful bow before she started to set the table, laying out silverware and fine china plates. Behind her, another girl rolled in a cart, wheels squealing on the floor, with prepared food steaming from beneath metal lids.

“Here, sit with me,” Chan said, patting the space on the bed next to him. “Until they are ready.”

You obeyed, sitting down next to him. Your gaze remained trained on the servant girls, moving about in a well-rehearsed manner as if they had done this too many times to count.

He reached for your hand, and you did your best not to flinch. “Look,” he whispered, urging you to follow his gaze. “This line on your hand, do you see the way it moves?”

You shivered as he traced the mark he referred to, following it up and down the length of your palm. “Yes,” you whispered, struck by the unexpected intimacy of the gesture.

Goosebumps followed the trail he left on your wrist, and you held your breath when he brought it to his lips. “The same as mine,” he said, almost reverently. Your eyes widened, breath hitching as he aligned your hands together. “A perfect match.”

You could hardly believe it, eyes searching back and forth, but seeing the same line digging into both of your skin. Like it belonged there.

“There are reasons for everything,” he said, and you felt a small flicker of shame when you read his knowing gaze as if he could sense those dark thoughts that you sheltered about him—wondering why you out of everyone in the world had been chosen to stand at his side. “I wouldn’t question so much,” he continued. “The things that fall into place so perfectly.”

He offered you a wink, surprisingly playful for a man of his reputation. “Let’s eat.”

You nodded, the most you could, and followed him to the table. He was polite as always, allowing you to pick first, waiting until your first bite before claiming his own. You were content, at that moment, to answer the questions he threw your way, increasingly aware of the way the place he had touched warming and the mark on your neck drummed in a gentle pulse.

The rest of the evening passed uneventfully, and there was less trepidation in your soul when you lay with Chan to sleep.

You journeyed to the Highlands the next morning, riding behind Chan on horseback, leaving the Wolves’ imposing Castle behind. There was a lightness about you as distance added more miles to your ride, growing brighter and brighter the further you traveled. Even with light conversation petering between you and Chan, you had never been freer in your entire life, the wind blowing back your hair as you soared across the plains.

Despite his repeated requests for you to take a break, you were determined to make it to your sister’s palace before nightfall. You wanted to see her outside, in the meadows that spread invitingly across the Highlands, and walk together just the two of you as you did as children.

There was excitement spiking hot adrenaline in your veins when the hills opened up in the distance, revealing a gorgeous mountain Castle with imposing towers and the familiar flags of your sister’s powerful family. She belonged to Hyunjin, taking his name and crest, and it made you sad to realize that there was a greater distance between you both. You loosened your grip on Chan’s waist, not realizing your grip on him.

You had grown tired of being around him, constantly blinded by the weight of his shadow. At least out here, with the sun beaming down from above, you could feel great relief from the pressure lightening. Perhaps there should be shame associated with your actions, but as soon as you could identify a familiar shape up ahead, you were already leaping from the horse despite Chan’s protests.

Thankfully, your sister was there to greet you, surrounded by two guards. Immediately, you jumped from your steed, falling into her arms and inhaling the familiar scent of her perfume. “Grace,” you squealed, keeping her held tight to you as if it would be the last time you could ever do so.

“Y/N,” she sing-songed back, and you smiled at her playful attitude, only growing a little despondent when you detected Chan’s approach from behind.

“Hello,” she greeted Chan with a polite bow. “It is an honor to welcome you to the Northern Highlands.”

“Your palace is beautiful,” Chan complimented, and you shivered when he drew fingers down the length of your spine—a show of affection that you would never get used to experiencing.

“Thank you,” she said, turning around to gaze back at it as if she were seeing it for the first time. “It has centuries of history.”

“I have heard the tales,” Chan remarked. “From when I was a boy.”

You tried not to snort, not wanting to relive any memories of Chan from his boyhood. Grace’s careful eyes, however, seemed to detect something, and she looked at you with a curious gaze. “Well, I can show you to your quarters.”

“No need, I’m sure one of your guards will know the way. I think Y/N has been waiting for some time with you. I’ll leave you both alone,” he said, even without your prompting, and your sister gave you a familiar smile.

“As you wish,” she said with a little curtsy, beckoning a guard forward with stern orders to help the Wolf King settle in while you and Grace took a stroll of the grounds.

You held your breath, not wanting your impatience to show as the arrangements were made. Only once Chan had started in the direction of the Castle, guards following him closely, did you exhale. Reaching for Grace’s hand, and tugging her forward.

“No need to drag me!” Grace chuckled at your actions, and she linked your arms together, steering you toward the familiar meadows.

You both settled into easy conversation as it always seemed to happen, topics flowing from one to another. There was a lot to catch up on, things left unsaid from your sad exchange of letters. Rumors swirling around the highlands, and stories from your own homeland that you consumed greedily, excited for any mention of your little Kingdom.

Even if you didn’t really belong to it anymore.

You wanted to walk forever, to keep going beyond the highlands. Escaping to a distant land with just you and Grace. A place where you could both live in peace and go about your days just chatting and reading together by the fireplace as you did when you were children.

She laughed at your complaints, forcing you to return to the Castle when the sun had started to set. Thankfully, you didn’t go all the way inside just yet, and the two of you sat down at one of the picnic tables in the gardens. As you settled next to Grace, bowing politely to the maids who brought you both a cup of tea, you frowned as you recognized Chan between the hedges, strolling along with Hyunjin, Grace’s King, down the trodden paths between the mazes.

You did your best to ignore him, focusing instead on the moment you had with your sister. The setting sun was warm as you reclined your head, eyes closed as you accepted the gracious touch—burning just as hot as your sister’s intense stare.

“Do you have something to say?” you huffed. “I can feel you looking at me.”

Her smile was clear in her tone. “You just seem...different.”

“How so?”

“Like you’ve been tamed.”

Your eyes flew open at the comment, glaring at her. “Stuck in an arranged marriage, you mean?”

“Mine was arranged as well, but you can rest assured that I don’t take the same comfort from my particular suitor.”

“I hardly take comfort from the Wolf King,” you argued, but Grace simply shrugged.

“You’ve never seen things as I do.”

“What’s so bad about Hyunjin anyway?” you asked instead, to direct the conversation away from Chan,

Her smile curdled. “He keeps busy with his whores,” she said, shocking you with such an accusation.

“Grace-”

“Don’t.” Your sister sighed. “There’s nothing you can do.”

She attempted to restore her previous smile, looking back over your shoulder with a sigh. “I like your Wolf King,” she eventually said. “He cares about you a lot. I haven’t seen him take his eyes away from you once.”

Grace must be imagining things. “He’s tolerable at best,” you decided, earning yourself a sigh from your sister.

“My how your perspective has changed,” she remarked, finally turning her attention to the lukewarm tea in front of her. “You were kicking and screaming when you first learned of the marriage.”

“It is something that was forced on me!”

“But you’re not the only one, Y/N,” Grace said with a tone filled with sadness.

Suddenly, you felt chastened and guilty for even protesting her. “For us both, it has created nothing but discomfort.”

“I think there is potential in your match,” Grace argued. “You resist because you are stubborn in nature, but I think there could be good things for you if you just tried to make it work. Wouldn’t it be better, sister, to live with him as lovers than as cold strangers?”

“He is too wild for marriage,” you weakly protested. But your argument held no merit, and you hated the logic in her words, turning away to glare into the distance.

Night passed before your eyes, like the dimmest flicker, and you had never been more unhappy to greet the rising sun.

It seemed that all good things inevitably came to an end, and you were holding back tears when you parted from Grace the next morning, holding the embrace for far too long. Even as you allowed Chan to help you back onto the horse, positioned directly behind him on the saddle, you kept your gaze trained behind you, watching Grace grow smaller and smaller.

Until she was gone.

Your heart was heavy when you returned to Chan’s castle that same afternoon, but your foul mood didn’t last for long. Distracted as you were, surprised by the bustling activities throughout the grounds, everyone scrambling for something you couldn’t identify. “Our moon festival,” Chan explained. “We will be shifting tonight.”

Oh, right. You had forgotten about that part, too distraught reminiscing on your brief moment of freedom with Grace. “I almost forgot.”

“There will be a feast tonight,” he explained. “We will both join as King and Queen.”

You scowled at the idea. “As you wish.”

Chan frowned at the comment. “You must be tired from the journey,” he continued, choosing not to react to your passive comment. “Feel free to rest in our quarters. I will come get you later.”

You agreed with a half-hearted grunt of acknowledgment. Sleep did sound like a much-needed relief from the exhaustion threatening each unsteady step you took up the stairs. It was what you blamed your disorientation on, barely noticing when Chan leaned in to give you a chaste kiss on your cheek.

That same spot burned under the barely-there attention. But you chose to ignore it, instead focusing on how your feet were throbbing when you landed on top of your bed with a huff, allowing tears to escape as you gave yourself a moment to purge the nasty emotions that had built after leaving the Highlands. Unable to do so as you rode behind Chan.

There were too many different emotions piled on throughout the day, mixing with a heady combination of your exhaustion from traveling. Countless thoughts also swirled through your head, and it was inevitable that you would fall under, losing yourself to the easy promise of sleep. An easier task than grappling with your conflicted feelings.

Darkness greeted you like an old friend, and your dreams were wild. One moment you were back with Grace, strolling through the meadows. The next, you found yourself in an empty forest, shadows chasing each breath evaporating on cold air, ensnared by a pair of red eyes in the thick foliage.

You stumbled on the undergrowth, falling backward ungracefully. You only had the wherewithal to put a hand over your face, trying to block everything out, as those eyes descended on you. Fear caught in your throat, and it was the lasting image that haunted you as you jerked upright in bed, barely withholding a scream when those same eyes met you in the real world.

“Y/N.”

Chan’s voice was deep, guttural in its intensity, and filled with concern. You flinched when fingers came out to gently remove sweaty bangs from your eyes, heart thunderous inside your chest. His hand paused in its motions, and for a fleeting second, you thought you might drown in his stare.

“Sorry,” you whispered. “Bad dreams.”

“I see.”

There was a question in his tone, but you didn’t know how to provide an answer, choosing instead to gently push his hand away. “It’s nothing to worry about.”

He nodded, lower lip caught between his teeth. “If you’re certain...”

You studied him for a moment, wishing that you could confide in him. But there was still a great distance between you, perhaps put there by your own accord, but heavy in its existence. “I shall get ready.”

Chan allowed you the space, agreeing to meet you in the hallway as you rose to get dressed, finding the dress that had been laid out for you by the maids. You slipped the fabric over your body, shivering as the silkiness slid across your skin like a lover’s caress.

True to his word, Chan was waiting patiently on the other side of the door, and you hesitated before taking the outstretched hand offered to you. Unprepared for when it pulled you in closer, under the scrutiny of his affectionate gaze. “Beautiful,” he declared, nostrils flaring as if taking in the scent of the perfume you sprayed.

“Thank you,” you offered in return, choosing to keep silent as he led the way, helping you down the stairs in your heels.

For once, you willingly stayed close to Chan, especially as you approached the Great Hall where the festivities would take place. Chan led you into the dining room, perhaps a bit too hastily, uneasy with the weight of his people’s stares boring down upon your figure. Dressed simply in that white gown—pure, as you had always remained—and looking entirely out of place amongst battle-hardened soldiers.

You caught Changbin’s stare from across the room as you sat at the head of the table next to the King. There was lust in his gaze. And it deeply unsettled you, to the point that even Chan caught your shiver.

He followed your gaze to Changbin who looked away at once. “Tradition says that the King can share his mate,” Chan whispered. “But I will not share you with him. So he can only look.”

You weren’t sure what to say to that. So you didn’t say anything in return. “I didn’t know.”

There was a brief moment of silence, and then Chan stood, addressing the room. “Let’s feast together, comrades! We run together at the moon’s highest cycle!”

A chorus of cheers and howls greeted his words, and everyone started to fill their plates, easy conversation flowing between the wolves like the smell of the delicious-looking platters laid out before you. Still, your stomach revolted, swimming in circles as you picked at the helping Chan had served you. You wrinkled your nose when his grease-stained fingers brought a piece of chicken to your lips, and you forced yourself to take it from him.

Chan sighed as you chewed, forcing the morsel down your throat as it stung. “I won’t be with you tonight, of course. We will likely stay out in the moonlight until dawn. But I will return in the morning.”

“Okay.” You shrugged, seemingly indifferent. Some time to yourself seemed nice. And you weren’t keen on being outside when they were no longer human.

“You don’t have to be miserable here, my Queen,” Chan suddenly said, tone taking on a hardened edge. Perhaps the first time he had ever sounded stern with you. “Wolves mate for life, and they choose their partners seriously”

You contemplated his words, chosen ever so carefully. “I - I will try,” you managed, recalling Grace’s advice from the previous day.

To live as lovers rather than strangers.

He hummed at your agreement, eyes glued to your form as he appraised you with something akin to curiosity. “Don’t roam so far from the castle tonight. It isn’t dangerous, but it is your first time. Of course, there’s usually nothing to fear in the gardens.”

There was a layered hint in his words, but you chose not to think about it too much, simply nodding your head as you resumed your task of picking at your food. There was nothing wrong with the offering in front of you, but your newfound uneasiness mixed with your emotional charge from earlier—it had not yet completely dispelled itself from your system—left an unpleasant ache in your chest.

As if something was missing…

Later that night, long after the wolves left the castle, you realized you couldn’t sleep even if you tried, listening to the chorus of howls from outside the castle walls. They rang through the night, loud and clear, and harmonized with one another as if perfectly in sync. Perhaps they were since Chan and his wolves shared a tight bond, and you wondered what it must be like to be so perfectly in tune with one another.

It was these thoughts that plagued you, and even as midnight came and went, you grew more restless. You resolved to walk through the castle, to quell your thoughts and ease your mind. Even as your footsteps echoed through the halls, you found yourself becoming more awake instead of the opposite effect.

Fresh air would be nice, you thought until you remembered the wolves outside. But then again, Chan did promise you that the gardens would be safe. You could trust him, right? Or was that the problem? Your lack of trust in someone meant to be your partner.

You resolved yourself in that moment to try. And if that meant venturing out into the gardens, then no one could accuse you of being silent and passive. This was your attempt at trying, and if it ended badly, then you would have all the more leverage to ignore him.

However, despite your attempts to steel your resolve, you found your heart beating impossibly fast when you greeted the moonlight outside. Each lungful of air that you forced down your lungs felt like sharp knives attacking your flesh. Gaze swimming in front of you, footsteps unsteady as you entered the hedge maze surrounding the gardens.

You inhaled deeply, trying to find comfort in the familiar smell of the foliage. There was a strange air of peace surrounding you, and that was all the solace you needed to keep going, admiring the way the colors of the blooming flowers bled in a different light. It was easy to grow distracted by the sight, as beautiful as it was, and perhaps you could blame your wandering eye for failing to adequately identify the rustling of something large in the undergrowth of the forest.

You hummed to yourself, leaning down to run your fingers over the soft petals of a rose. Its usual red was subdued somehow, under the moon’s glow, and you smiled at the effect, completely ignorant of a different red seeping through the hedges near your right.

It wasn’t until a gentle whimper sounded that you jerked to a stop, hand fluttering to cover your chest as you whipped around to locate the source of the sound. And what stood before you, as powerful as the looming mountains above the castle, nearly had you falling to your knees.

Except, you realized upon a second cursory glance, that there was something uncannily familiar about the beast in front of you, and it only took you another moment to make the connection. A gasp fell from your lips when you realized that it was the wolf from your childhood—the one you had found that day Chan visited your home for the second time. The one you played with in the gardens. The one you spent time with just talking and believing it was nothing more than a common wolf.

You stumbled then, recognizing the now familiar crimson eyes looking back at you—the same ones that belonged to your husband. The wolf, your Wolf King, butted his giant head against your outstretched hand, giving an affectionate lick to your fingertips.

“I understand,” you whispered, unable to decipher the emotion in your voice, but one thing that you knew for certain—there was a clear absence of fear. Because you had never feared this wolf, always approaching it with happiness, completely ignorant of its true state.

The wolf gave you a meaningful look, and you were struck by the humanness of the gesture. Understanding dawned on you—Chan had always known. He had always known it was you—the one his wolf had chosen. The girl who had never shown fear to a beast that others considered a monster.

You had known Chan for your entire life without even realizing it, and your eyes welled with tears, watching him toss back his head and release a spine-curdling howl. One that was joined by a chorus of beautiful melodic cries, merging and joining together, and reaching down to your very bones.

You dropped to your knees then—a mere speck before the Wolf. You cried without fear, and this time, the tension between you and your King vanished like the stars in the night sky when dawn cracked across the horizon.

Three Months Later

On most mornings, Chan was gone before you woke up, and that left you with a disconcerting feeling of disappointment. You supposed there was much to do for the King of the Castle, but lately, it made you ache for something you couldn’t quite discern.

For the past several months, you found yourself opening up to the Wolf King in ways you would’ve never imagined. The truth of who he was, the Wolf from your childhood, along with Grace’s well-intentioned advice, had managed to crack through the stoic guard you had raised from the moment you bound yourself to him.

He taught you about the bond—how, even if you weren’t a Wolf and couldn’t experience the same emotions, he could feel each flicker of happiness or stroke of sadness as it moved through you.

You had not known of this connection before—because of your stubborn nature—and you would always regret resisting it. But things were better, and you could see the beauty in the bond and how truly spectacular it was to feel and understand another person so intimately. It made you wonder—for longer and longer periods of time—just how deep you could make that bond.

Curiosity weighed heavy on you, and your eyes cracked open at a gentle knocking on the door—an opportunity presenting itself when you recognized a familiar servant girl entering your room. “Good morning, Y/N,” she said, and you nodded in return.

At first, you had kept yourself closed off to the other maids, but this one in particular, Ivy, had been insistent. It was hard to deny her, especially when she became your best teacher, indulging you in learning everything related to the wolves and their way of life.

She was also quite willing and open to help you with anything, even if it involved the more intimate parts of your relationship with the Wolf King. You brought it up again that morning, growing more and more confident, especially since Ivy was completely shameless when it came to that sort of thing.

“I thought about your words from the other night,” you opened the conversation, watching as she put your breakfast down onto the table.

“You’ll have to remind me.” There was a teasing note in her tone, and you glowered at the playful look she shot in your direction.

“We spoke about the King,” you said. “You told me things…what I can do to please him.”

“I remember.” She took a step closer, and you were wary of the look in her eyes. “Does he not fuck you well?” Ivy asked, and her tone was absent of the same filter that would stop your tongue.

Still, you were embarrassed, looking down at your feet, wondering how to disguise the truth. “It doesn’t feel good when it seems like he just uses me to get himself off.”

That much was true as you had heard Chan masturbating next to you on countless nights, and your name often fell free from his lips.

“I see.” Ivy nodded. “He doesn’t know better. He was taught that a good alpha fucks his mate and makes sure that she is pregnant for him.”

You winced at her blunt explanation. “Is that all...wolves need?”

“Not necessarily,” Ivy said with a bright smile. “I can teach you...if you want.”

“Teach me?” you asked, gasping when Ivy placed a hand on your chest, forcing you to fall back on the bed.

She was all smiles when she crawled into your lap, grabbing your hands and securing them to her waist. You gasped when she started rocking her hips into your own, feeling the pleasant ache resonate up and down your spine. “The most important lesson of them all,” Ivy said with a twinkle of mischief in her eye. “The art of seduction.”

“I - Ivy...”

“Tell me, Y/N,” Ivy interrupted your ramblings, leaning down so that the tips of your noses brushed together. “Would you like that? Seducing your wolf? Driving him to the point where he can’t resist taking you?”

You moaned around your response. “Yes! Please show me.”

Her hips rocked harder into yours, and you could see white forming at the edges of your vision. “Leave it to me.”

And you did, surrendering to her touches, and the wicked way she showed you all the ways to drive a King mad.

The following night, you bravely waited for your Wolf King to return from patrol, wearing nothing but a sheer robe that left little to the imagination. Sitting on the edge of your shared bed, you caught each breath as it rattled between your lungs. Nervousness eating away at your resolve and leaving the poor skin around your cuticles abused by your touch.

Ivy’s advice rang clear in your mind as if she were there with you, holding your hands between her own as she taught you how to please the King. You blushed at the memory, hands covering the bare skin beneath your robe, caressing the delicate flesh as she had done the night before. Demonstrating to you the best ways to please a man, and to make him beg for you.

That kind of power held its curious appeal, and you thought about it constantly. Wondering what it would be like to make Chan lose his mind to the sin of your smell and touch. You could hardly wait, bouncing your leg and jostling the flimsy material of your coverings.

Thankfully, your Wolf King didn’t make you wait for very long, punctual as always in these recent times of peace in joining you during the evenings. The easy smile he always offered you vanished as soon as he closed the door behind him, eyes locked on your figure clad in so very little.

“Be assertive.” You recalled Ivy’s words, and you stood on shaky legs to take a few tentative steps towards him. The implication was not lost in translation. You could barely get out a greeting before Chan was on you in seconds, gently pushing you back against the wall. He pressed his forehead against yours and you closed your eyes. “You look beautiful,” he whispered, initiating the first indulgent kiss that lit a fire that you felt down to the tips of your toes.

“Then have me,” you said against the purse of his mouth, tongue tracing that full bottom lip. His gaze widened perceptibly, holding you at arm's length.

“What do you mean?”

“Take me the way you want,” you replied. “I’m ready. You love me, don’t you?”

The intensity in that gaze you had started to yearn for burned even brighter. “You know that I love you Y/N, and I understand why it would be hard for you to believe. I’m more than willing to take this chance to show you.”

He pulled away despite the tight grip you kept on his powerful bicep. Even so, you kept your eyes open as wide as possible to enjoy the scene playing out in front of you when he kissed you again. You curled your fingers into his thick black hair, remembering Ivy’s advice, and pulled his mouth against yours, crushing your lips to his. Chan’s chest rumbled as he kissed you fiercely in return, grabbing onto your arms as his tongue plundered the hot cavern of your mouth.

Your lungs screamed in protest, and you pulled away suddenly, shivering at his resounding whimper. You opened your eyes, keeping your hands in his hair to hold it back from his crimson orbs. You found the lust there, making his eyes appear darker. “It’s so hard for me to do this,” you said softly. “I- I want to please you…”

“You don’t have to do anything,” Chan replied. He pressed his hips into yours and you felt something hard against your stomach. “Y/N,” Chan murmured, leaning into your neck to inhale deeply. “I want you more than anything else.”

You shivered as you felt his other hand come to the sleeve of your gown, slowly sliding it down your shoulder. His fingertips slid across your skin, weakening your resolve. His lips followed his touch, peppering soft kisses along the exposed skin. He tugged on the fabric more and you felt the fabric at your right breast start to fall, slowly exposing the flesh to him. His blazing eyes looked down at what he had uncovered, as his hand moved up to hold your breast in his palm. You moaned when his thumb started to rub against your nipple, growing alarmed at the sudden ache between your legs. Like before, his lips soon replaced his fingers and you cried out when he gently nipped the sensitive skin.

He suddenly tugged the fabric back up, releasing your wrists so that he could have both hands when he grabbed the sides of your robe and tugged it aside to reveal your bare skin to him. Your hands fell to your sides as your chest heaved up and down to match each of your panting breaths. Clad in the lingerie Ivy had helped you pick out the previous night.

Chan’s eyes were glued to your bare torso. With a moan of his own, he pressed a soft kiss to your lips before he trailed his mouth down, over the soft skin of your throat, down your chest, and between the valley of your breasts, over your smooth stomach down to the top of your lace panties. Looking up at you with hungry, lust-filled eyes, Chan started to tug the fabric down your legs.

Clenching your fists against the wall, you couldn’t begin to describe what you felt when he pressed a kiss against the front of your panties, holding your thighs in his strong hands. Standing back up to his full height, he pulled his shirt off next, tossing it onto the floor. You breathed out deeply as your eyes greedily took in the sight of his muscled torso. Timidly, you reached out a hand, aware of his eyes watching your movements as you hovered your palm over his firm abdomen. “Touch him with your fingertips,” Ivy’s words whispered against your ear. He groaned, bracing his arms on either side of you, moving his head against the wall next to your ear. You heard Chan’s husky voice whisper: “Baby, please touch me.”

Your eyes fluttered at his request, and you placed both palms on his hard stomach, moving them up and feeling the muscles tense beneath your touch. Your hands danced across his pectorals, rising along with the muscles. You moved your palms over his shoulders and then back down, pausing when you hit the top of his pants. Before you could muster up the courage to move any lower, Chan’s lips were back on yours, kissing you senseless. You wrapped your arms around his neck, working your mouth against his, feeling your lips become swollen from his kisses. As your tongues touched, you felt Chan’s hands return to your thighs, lifting them so that you had no choice but to wrap your legs around his trim waist. Holding you against him, he carried you into over to the bed to deposit you on top. You missed his warmth as soon as he was gone and opened your eyes to meet his black gaze.

This was your chance. You remembered Ivy’s words and scrambled to get in position. Present. The command burned its way through your whole being as if you had no control over it. Instead, you turned on your hands and knees, arching your back and keeping your ass held high in the air.

You had never done this before, and you felt so exposed, but at the same time so good, so right, and you restrained yourself from trying to cover up against the shameless crimson stare watching you.

Suddenly, all went quiet, prompting you to glance over your shoulder. The Wolf King was staring at your ass, his mouth slightly agape. “Good girl,” was all you heard before Chan dove down abruptly to taste your dripping cunt, dragging his tongue all the way up to the source of the wetness leaking from you with a single, hot swipe, before latching on and sucking eagerly at the sensitive skin around your opening.

You keened at the sensation and shivered at his satisfied grunts and moans as he took his fill of your taste. It made you want to please him. To do whatever it took to make him completely lose his mind.

“Chan!” You moaned out, reaching beneath him to flick at your neglected clit. “More!”

Your demand did not go unanswered. With a grunt, Chan yanked your ass up higher for a better angle, digging his hands into the plush flesh of your hips. His touch was rough, and strong, undoubtedly leaving marks behind, but you absolutely loved it. And when the wiggling muscle of his tongue finally pushed inside, you cried out in absolute bliss and pleasure. Time itself seemed to slow down as that tongue relentlessly moved inside you, searching for that spot that could make you see stars and, once found, pressing down hard. Again and again, Chan dipped inside with his tongue, and each time you moaned for him. It didn’t take you long until your body tensed and shuddered, squeezing around the intrusion as you rode out your orgasm.

With a satisfied groan, Chan released your hips, and you collapsed on your stomach, still aching for him.

You attempted to look back at Chan, groaning when you realized he was pushing down his pants and underwear, freeing his stiffening cock before crawling back over you. You were met with a flurry of kisses, on your lips, your cheeks, and your neck, before his tongue trailed lazily over your chest and down to the delicate curls damp from your release.

You squirmed under him as he held himself up on his arms, dragging his eyes unbearably slow from your face and down to your toes. He moved one finger down over your stomach, and you watched it enter the forest of blonde curls around your center. Panting, and nearing combustion, you found yourself instinctively thrusting your hips up, begging him for more than just touches. Growling, he practically shoved your hips back to the bed, reaching down and jerking his thick cock with rough strokes. He abruptly flipped you over onto your back, craning his neck to look down into your eyes. “Let me make love to you, Y/N.”

His words sent a flurry of heat straight to your core. You had never had sex before, but you wanted it desperately. You told him as much and could see him visibly shaking. “I’ll go slow,” he promised, kissing your lips tenderly, before reaching down to line himself up at your entrance. You closed your eyes and winced as he pushed into you. Pliant and soft from his earlier ministrations, the bulbous head found little resistance as it breached your cunt.

You could feel his face bury itself into your shoulder, his knuckles turning white as they gripped the bedding, as if it was taking everything he had to go this slow. Once he was buried inside of you completely, you groaned, adjusting to the sudden intrusion. You could feel him still above you, and his teeth teased the skin at your shoulder. “Son of a bitch,” he growled. “It’s taking every ounce of control I have not to flip you over and fuck you senseless.”

His words, as crude as they were, only served to heighten your arousal. “Move,” you said, grabbing his black hair and pulling his face to yours. You kissed him quickly. “I’m fine.”

He needed no further encouragement, as he slowly pulled out before pushing back in. You could see the sweat breaking out across his forehead from the exertion, causing strands of his hair to stick to his forehead. His right hand moved behind you to grip the headboard as his hips slowly rocked against your own. As good as it felt, you could see he was about to lose it. “Faster,” you told him, and he complied, speeding up his thrusts and allowing some of the tension to escape his body. It was a little painful, especially when he let out a low growl and really started grinding his hips.

You could feel it building inside, the pleasure of his rough movements far outweighing the discomfort. You let out another moan as he moved in and out, feeling the smooth friction all the way to the tips of your toes. The Wolf King chose this moment to draw his hips back, dragging his length out to the tip, before slamming it back inside with a powerful thrust, rocking your body to the point that you felt your vision turn white for a moment. Without giving you time to recover, Chan repeated the motion over and over again, speeding up and adjusting the angle to relentlessly hit deep inside, hips bumping your clit with every smooth grind.

He grunted from his efforts, one hand on the headboard while the other came to grab your breast, his lips sucking at your neck. For your part, you arched your back against him, allowing your hips to come up a little to meet his movements as he hit even deeper inside of you, just barely kissing your cervix. Your fingernails scraped down the smooth skin of his back at this new angle. He moaned when your nails dug into his flesh, bringing his lips up to yours and you kissed him feverishly, tasting him like your life depended on it. One of your hands curled into his smooth black hair while the other gripped his bicep tightly, sighing happily as you felt the muscles move.

You wrapped your legs around his waist, trying to not feel overwhelmed by all of the things he was making you feel. Buried deep inside of you, you could feel him hit all the right spots, sending waves of pleasure to your tight center. Meanwhile, his lips were working magic against yours, leaving you breathless.

You could feel an intimate warmth building inside of you the longer he snapped his hips against yours. Groaning, you let out a cry as you felt something inside of you break open, releasing wave after wave of heat through your core, leaving your body drowning in pleasure.

There was a haze of lightheadedness clogging your senses, and you almost didn’t even realize the swell pushing against your ass, until it breached your core. “Chan!” you hissed at the combination of pain and overwhelming pressure, retreating and then swelling again as he ground that hot mass against you.

“My knot,” he groaned, and you could feel the heat from his chest against your breasts as he pressed even closer.

You vaguely recalled Ivy warning you about this, telling you that it would be hard to prepare for the massive instrution. You felt a spike of fear as it stretched you even further, and you worried that your virgin body would suffer. All you could do was grit your teeth and bury your head into the blankets beneath you, feeling the swell of his knot pressed against the cleft of your ass. You fisted the sheets between your hands. He would split you in half, and then you would be nothing.

“Y/N!” he growled, slowing his hips to a timid roll as his knot locked between you both, and your eyes rolled into the back of your head as you felt his release flood your insides, filling you to the point that your lower stomach had started to swell from his cum.

He groaned as you both came down from your highs, and you gently petted your finger through his unruly curls. He experimentally rolled his hips to test how firmly the knot was locking him inside and it wouldn’t budge. Your cunt squeezed the knot, eliciting another grunt from Chan, another twitch, and another spurt of hot cum inside of you.

The pop didn’t swell until Chan was fully seated, his thick cock barely able to seat itself fully between your pulsating walls. It was a painful stretch, of course, but you were hardly focused on it.

Chan continued to hump against you, long after his release and teetering on the cusp of oversensitivity, but those seductive hips had lost their rhythm. It was only moments later, as Chan pulled away from your lips and buried his face into your chest, that he growled when something warm filled your center. You let your hand wander down his spine, stroking along the individuals knots. You could feel him breathing hard above you, and you tried to soothe him back to normal.

You were locked together for a long time, and you were almost asleep when Chan was finally able to pull out, collapsing onto the mattress next to you, looking up at the ceiling. You watched as his chest rose and fell quickly until you could barely see it move at all, signifying his return from his high. Your own breaths came out much shorter, and you were aware of the sweat that coated your skin.

You watched as Chan ran his hand through his dark hair, moving it out of his face. Looking over at you, he turned on his side and used one hand to bring you closer to him, wrapping an arm around your waist. You hummed in delight as your chests pressed together, moving in sync with each other. Chan’s eyes scanned over your face as he leaned in and kissed your forehead. “I love you Y/N,” he said. voice rumbling. “I’ll do whatever it takes to prove it to you.”

You were barely coherent, collapsed against the sheets with a line of drool pooling out from your mouth. Closing your eyes, you let your head fall against his chest, savoring his warmth. “I trust you,” you said softly, and you could feel him sigh in relief. Simply holding you against him, surrounded by his warmth, you suddenly felt very much like you belonged.

“You and I have always been destined,” Chan whispered, and for the first time since you had taken your place as his Wolf Queen, you weren’t afraid.

Instead, you were irrevocably alive.

#stray kids smut #stray kids fanfic #stray kids x you #bang chan #bang chan smut #chan smut #chan x reader #bang chan x reader #chan x female reader #chan oneshot #bang chan oneshot #chan imagines

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abbeym28 · 10 months ago

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Clarisse x Reader - This is a Life

Clarisse x gn! reader

Reader is from the Aphrodite cabin, but only for the plot!

An- Around 3.3k words, sorry it took so long to get out! Hope you guys enjoy this! Let me know if I should write something that kind of does more of a deep dive into this, because I feel like something is missing or something

Warnings- Weapons, fake dating, blood at one point, affection, petnames, guy named Andrew (apologies to any one named Andrew), Aphrodite is a pretty okay mom in this. Pls tell me if I missed anything!

Everybody in camp recognized you as the favored child of Aphrodite. People looked twice when you walked by, flowers bloomed in your direction, and mirrors wished they could reflect you.

Clarisse is the favored daughter of her dad, Ares. People feared her, flowers looked away as she passed, and only a select few could stand to be close to her.

But even those who were close kept a great distance.

That was what was similar between the favorite Aphrodite kid and the favorite Ares daughter.

But even that was comparable, for she was a daughter, and a daughter could never compare to a son in her fathers eyes, whilst your mother seems to love you unconditionally.

You and Clarisse weren't close by any means, but you had always caught each other's attention on some level.

For you, it was how she sparred. Muscles flexing, covered in sweat, and a wild and free grin spread across across. You could find beauty in her that was no wheres else in the camp.

For her, it was the way you held yourself and how you were with young campers. Your slight confidence, the care you have for each camper, and the way you treat others. It was admirable, considering the way that Clarisse was probably the opposite of you.

“-risse, Clarisse, Clarisse!” Clarisse brook out of the slight stupor she was in and looked across the table where her sibling was calling her name and waving his hand around. “Oh, thank the gods. I about almost called over an Apollo kid to check on you.” She rolled her eyes as he laughed a bit.

They were in the dining hall, for it was lunch. Her plate was still quit full as she looked down at it. She was hungry, but she felt as if there was something preventing her from eating.

“Hey, would you look at that.” Her brother was looking past, his eyes holding questions. She turned her head to look over her shoulder and scoffed. There you were, holding your tray and standing talking to Percy Jackson, who was sitting alone at his Poseidon camp table.

That Capture the flag game happened a while ago now, but it was still upsetting how many people still like that kid, even after what he did, although it makes sense with all of the things he has done.

Her grip on her fork tightened, and she glared hard in your direction. Her brother snorted. “You really like them, huh?” She whipped her head back to look at him.

“What? Who?” She softened just slightly after he said your name. “Where did you get that idea?”

“The way you two look at each other. There's a rumor going around that you two are secretly dating each other, but we all know that you would never.”

“Never what?”

“Date anyone. Especially them.” She scoffed again.

“What do you mean?”

“You're not… an emotional person. Everyone knows you couldn't even make a relationship actually work.” She narrowed her eyes at him.

“Fine then.” She slammed her hands against the table and got up, making her way over to you. Percy noticed her first and scrambled to sit up straighter and to not smile. You raised your eyebrow at him, but he nodded his head in Clarisse’s direction and you laughed a little.

“Hey Claris-” you lifted one of your hands up to wave, but once she was close enough she took that hand in hers and then wrapped her other arm around your waist, pulling you towards her in a kiss.

The whole camp seemed to go quiet, and while it wasn't the most emotional kiss, Clarisse was very passionate in how she was kissing you, it was overwhelming to say the least. Your tray dropped, spilling food all over the ground and making a loud crash. Your hand found its way to the back of her neck and you gently tugged on her curls and twirled some of the baby hairs at her nape around your fingers. She broke off the kiss, looking you right in your eyes as you were flustered and tried to reclaim your breath.

“Um, what the-'' Percy began, but before anything else was said Clarisse tugged on your hand and ran towards the forest with you.

“Clarisse, what was that a-”

“Date me.” She blurted out the words before her mind could tell her to not to.

“What- this is super out of the blue, even for you Clarisse!” Clarisse rolled her eyes.

“We can fake dates then. Just for a few months or so.”

“How is that even relevant?!?!”

“If we fake date, then none of it will be real. And then, I get to prove something, and you…well, I can make sure people dont bother you.” You narrowed your eyes at her.

“But why?” Clarrise sighed deeply and your eyebrows furrowed more.

“Look, people already think we are dating, my sibling thinks I could never be in a relationship, and I don't hate you. Much.” She then looked you up and down in a way that almost made you wish that you were invisible.

“Now, how well can you act?”

The shock of the century happened at camp Half Blood the next morning at breakfast when Clarrise showed up with you attached to her arm. Jaws were on the floor and every table was turned towards your direction.

Clarisse had a proud smirk on her face as she survived the dining hall. Some part of you also felt weirdly proud as well, as if having your arm intertwined with hers was the reason you were at this camp anyway.

She moved you in the direction of the Ares table, an arrangement the two of you had settled on while setting up rules and guidelines. You would sit with her at her table, at least come to most of her training sessions and sit next to her at the bonfires. She would visit the strawberry fields and lake with you, join the craft classes you have with young campers, and on occasions, she would allow you to place a kiss on her while wearing lipstick or lip gloss, making sure to leave a mark.

You both also agreed on minimal kissing, which was a shame since she was a good kisser. Any other types of touches were pretty much guaranteed if the two of you were near each other.

“Goodmorning.” Clarisse greeted the rest of the table, untangling her arm from yours before setting her tray on the table and then sitting down. You did the same, and in an instant, Clarrise wrapped her arm around your waist, situating her hand on your stomach comfortably. You scratched a bit closer to her so your thighs were touching.

A chorus of morning greetings left various peoples mouths and Clarisse hummed a bit. She reached for a bag of apple slices and ripped open the small bag with the help of her teeth. You giggled a bit and nudged her side.

“Honey, that was kind of weird. You know you could've just let go of me, right?” She stared into your eyes mischtifully.

“You lost me at let go.”

It took everything in you to not burst out laughing as a few people around you literally gagged. She winked at you and you grinned at her before the two of you each turned back to your breakfast.

Your chin sat on both of your palms as you sat in the stands right outside of the training grounds, watching as Clarisse took on another camper in a dual. Capture the flag was coming up in about a week, but despite that, many people have come up to you asking if the news that had spread around camp was true.

“Hey, babe, did you see that?” Clarisse was jogging over to you, a smile on her lips. You smiled back at her and once she was close enough moved to stand between your legs, her hands trailed up your thighs lightly before they landed on your waist. You tried your best to ignore the shiver that went through your body.

“I missed it. I’m sorry hun.” You put one of your hands on her shoulder while you fiddled with one of her strands of curls with the other. She let out a breathe, and you could almost swear she was pouting.

She leaned in closer, her lips almost touching your ear. “You're doing good, yeah?” she whispered.

“Yeah.” you whispered back. She moved a little bit back and smirked.

“Good. You keep doin’ that, 'kay sweetheart?” she patted your thigh twice before turning and running back to her training. Your heart skipped one to many times during that interaction.

Please Mother, let me survive this.

The next week and a half went pretty much like that, with you and Clarisse glued to each other's sides for the entirety of the day. She was even somehow able to convince Chiron to put the Aphrodite cabin on the red team.

You were with Clarisse now, getting ready for the capture the flag game. Your armor sat heavily on your shoulders as you did your best to fix all of the straps while following your “girlfriend” and listening to her bark out orders and plans.

Some of your siblings were grouped together all complaining about how much stuff they had to do compared to when they were on the blue team, but you knew that some of them were grateful that Clarisse knew that they were capable to do things that the other cabins could do.

Clarisse looked behind her where you were still struggling with your armor. She sighed and moved closer to you. She carefully took your hand in hers and then tighten your straps so that way it was secure. You watch her face the whole time, finding the way she furrowed her eyebrows in concentration to be quite cute.

“There. You ready to do this?” She looked up, pausing when her eyes met your. The two of you stared at each other for a moment before your eyes flickered to the ground, or at least any wear that wasn't her face.

“Yeah, I am. What did you want me to do again?” She huffed out a laugh and then moved past you.

“All you need to do sweetheart is to follow me.”

Even though you were out of breath, you continued to follow your fake girlfriends footsteps.

Well, it wasn't like you had much of a choice with how tightly she was holding your hand and tugging you along paths.

Out of nowhere, a group of people from the blue team jumped out of the trees and began to attack. Clarisse let go of your hand and brought out her spear, running forward and taking on two people at once.

You took out your provided sword and prayed that your trainings with Clarisse would pay off. Your sword clashed with the sword of a boy from the Hermes cabin, and you recognized him as a guy named Andrew, someone who used to follow you around and flirt with you before you and Clarisse became a temporary item.

“I’ve been wondering if I could even get you alone.” Andrew backed you away from the rest of the group and more into the trees.

“I have a girlfriend, Andrew.” You made sure your voice was stable and hard. You hoped you could get your point across to him, but this is the guy who couldn't take a hint from you before, so it was evident that he wasn't going to start now.

“Come on, everyone knows that you like me. We can tell that Clarisse pressured you into the relationship. The two of you weren't meant to be.” You tripped over a root, sending you falling, hitting the ground hard and hurting your back in the process.

“Me and you were meant to be together. Couldn't you see that I was flirting with you? ‘Cause I could see that you returned the feelings with how you flirted with me.” Your eyes flickered for any type of escape from his anger and jealousy, but there was no safe way out with how he was practically sitting on your stomach. It made you sick with how close his face was to yours.

“Well,” you carefully moved your hand to twirl a longer strand of his hair between your fingers. It was straight, especially compared to Clarisse’s. You tried to ignore how wrong this felt, and you tried to push away the urge to gag. If using the charm you had gotten from your mother would get you out of this, then so be it. “I had no idea you felt like that, sweety. What can I do to make it up to you?”

Charmspeak wasn't against the rules. After all, this was the gift that was given to you from your godly parents.

You watched as his eyes followed your hand as you began to softly caress his face.

This has to be one of the most disgusting things you have ever done.

“So you do like me! I knew th-” Andrew stopped his sentence as his eyes rolled to the back of his head and he flopped off of you to the side. You jumped up, finding yourself in front of your savior.

“Clarisse! You knocked him out! Is that even aloud?!” Clarisse laughed and poked Andrew with the none sharp end of her spear.

“He deserved it. Easiest decision of my li…” you stopped trying to wipe off all of the dirt that had resided on your clothes to raise your eyebrow at her Clarisse.

She was staring at you, her mouth slightly open and an almost entranced look in her eyes.

Was there dirt on your face? Did you somehow use your charmspeak on her?

“Um, Clarisse, maybe we should-'' Before you could finish your sentence, Clarisse had brought her left hand up and gently slid her thumb over your cheek bone.

You guessed that you had gotten a small cut there, and from the small flash of red that appeared and her thumb, you guessed that you were right. She moved it away a bit, and then she pushed back a strand of hair that had begun to obstruct your vision. She kept her hand there then, and you brought up your hand to touch her wrist, a grounding move for you were starting to feel light headed. You stared into eachothers eyes, and what broke you apart was the flinching sound of the games ending conch shell horn.

The blue team had won, another year in a row.

Clarisse sighed and ended the contact, moving away and bending down to pick up your discarded sword. She put it in your hands.

“You weren’t too bad out there. And, you, huh, you looked, um pretty good too.” She nodded, cleared her throat and turned away from you, heading back down the trail, but not before using her foot to push Andrew out of the way more.

For some reason, that was the moment you finally realized how in love you were with your fake girlfriend.

That night, your mother appeared in your dreams for the first time. Sitting on the wood pierre that was feet above the water, with moon light reflected off the liquid, Aphrodite appeared in front of you. With curly brown hair and brown eyes, and that tanned skin that you could swear you had begun to memorize, your mom looked different from what you expected.

“I appear as what you are attracted to,” Aphrodite nudged your shoulder from where she sat beside you. She seemed to respond to what you were thinking. “For you, that's that girlfriend of yours.”

“Fake girlfriend. We aren't really dating.” Aphrodite laughed in a way that made your heart beat a bit faster. That laugh belonged to someone who now had your heart.

“Could… could you switch to look like someone else? This is kind of unnerving to me.” She laughed again and shook her head.

“I can't be here for long, my child.” She change the subject.

“Then why are you here?”

“You're in love somehow. I know that you probably wouldn't tell her without some sort of push.”

You stared at her. She was practically glowing, the sear fabric that was draped on her body floating.

“Hearts aren't meant to hurt, hunny. If you distance yourself, or try to break away from her and move on, then two hearts will get hurt.”

Silence fell over the two of you, just for a moment.

“Mom?”

“Yes?”

“Am I… am I really your favorite? I mean, other people say that, but you've never given me a gift, and I haven't been on a quest, and this is the first time I've even met you. I just-”

“There are many of you, and I have love for each of you and your siblings. But yes, it could be said that I am very proud of you, and what you have accomplished.” Tears started to fill your eyes, though you weren't sure exactly why you were crying.

“Goodbye, my dear.” She softly pressed a kiss to your cheek.

And with that, your mother was gone once again.

Tears were running down your face once you woke up.

You moved off your blankets and got up moving towards the cabin's front doors. It was almost pitch black, and it was easy to tell that it was still night. Maybe just sitting out on the porch and thinking would do you some good.

But right when you were a few steps away, the door started to crack open.

Your mind jumped to many conclusions, like there was a ghost or one of your siblings had stayed out late with their partner. Then you caught sight of the hand that was pushing on the wood.

It was the same hand that has intertwined with yours, the same hand that had held onto your body all week. The same hand that you had seen wielding a sword for years.

“Clarisse?” The door stopped opening, and then Clarisse poked her head through the opening.

She whispered your name back, and you took note about how this was the most sheepish you had ever witnessed her to be. She backed up, and you went out of your cabin to join her.

“Hey.” she whispered.

“Hi.” you whispered back. “What's wrong?” You could swear that her hand twitched in the slightest, like she was about to reach out and hold yours but thought better.

“I, um, had a nightmare. You were the only place I could think to go to. It’s fine now though, so you should go back inside and get your beauty sleep.” She turned away from you, starting to go down the steps back to her cabin.

“Do you like me?” She stood still on the second step down. You walked towards her slowly, and you started to wish you had brought a blanket out with you. The night chill was starting to get to you, and you were starting to wish that you had that type of safe feeling.

“My, um, my mother visited my dreams tonight. And we talked, and I know that we havent really been dating, but i kike you Clarisse, and I kind of hoped, only if you want, if we could kind of be offic-”

A pair of lips crashed into yours before anything else happened. The passion from the first kiss that the two of you had shared was there still, but this time something felt so much more real.

You felt so many emotions, and so did Clarisse, and you knew that she was trying to convey them all to you like this.

Both of her hands were on your face, each one gently holding your cheeks so you could stay in place. Your hands were on her wrists, but you moved them to the back of her neck where you gently tugged on her curls. You smiled into the kiss.

Her hair would always be your favorite.

Clarisse pulled away from the kiss, and laughed when she saw your eyes were still closed. You glared at her a little, but your smile was still present on your face.

“I do.” Clarisse said. You hummed and tilted your head in confusion. Clarisse laughed again a bit.

“I do like you.” Somehow your smile got even bigger.

“So we can kiss anytime now?”

“Anytime, sweetheart.”

#clarisse la rue #pjo #pjo x reader #clarisse la rue x reader #clarisse pjo #clarisse x reader

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fancyfeathers · 1 month ago

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Hope this gives your muscles a bit of a working.

Yandere! Capilano who clings to a songbird that has come and gone in his existence. A witch, an elf who met Capitano at a festival before Khaneri'ah fell. A storyteller who was there to see the event.

She who popped up every few decades in his travels, a familiarity untainted by the event. A light.

This just gives me Alice and Andersdotter vibes, Klee’s mom and one of the creators of Simulanka, so Hexenzirkel darling anyone?

She was probably friends with Rhinedottir when Khaneri’ah fell, the two of them perhaps being the oldest out of the entire the entire Hexenzirkel, being alive long before it was even formed. Which is how they met, when she was visiting her dearest alchemist friend when a celebration arose in Khaneri’ah. Then certainly at that time the Captain would have been a sight to behold, a knight in shining armor, a rather odd pairing since the knight normally falls for the princess and not the witch, but she felt far from a witch in how she acted. She was not from or lived in Khaneri’ah but still managed to get everyone to warm up to her in a matter of moments, dancing with the children, making flowers out of thin air for a young man to give to a young lady he was in love with, helping a baby fall asleep while chatting with the baby’s parents.

He just manages to catch her in conversation and the contrast between them is clear, the lover and the fighter, the witch and the knight. There is just a joy in her that he cannot understand where it comes from, just like a constantly burning fire. Sadly their meeting does not last long, cut off by catastrophe…

The years go by and he does not see her until nearly a century later, after he left Natlan for the first time, after the Fatui had formed, and after the rot had begun to set in. He was on a mission in the Nation of Freedom and it was there he was her again, sitting under a tree, having tea with a few of her friends. A few of them are familiar to him, well only her and Rhinedottir, but she looked as if she had not aged a day, well she certainly had a change in style with her clothing and perhaps her hair but that was it. Honestly he did not expect her to recognize him especially at the distance he was walking past, after all their first meeting was brief and his helmet hid his nearly unrecognizable face, but still somehow she knew it was him. She ran up and hugged him like he was an old friend and as if she never had a care in the world, his subordinates were certainly not pleased by this. He only gets to visit with her for a short time before having to leave once again to continue his mission but when he does there is just undeniable yearning building up in his chest.

Then years go by again and he finds out the group she was with was the coven known as the Hexenzirkel, a group of witches who had strength who could rival that of the gods. He finds this odd as he could never see her as strong in that sense, she seemed like she would never even hurt a fly. This fact bothers him out of his mind, he cannot comprehend it nor can he accept it as it feels it only pulls what he wants further and further out of his grasp so that he may never obtain it.

It is not until he encounters her in Natlan and she just watches as the bloodshed from the abyss happens once again and she does not even help and just watches. He feels betrayed, someone who was to kind and held so much power in their hands would just let this sort of thing happen.

He will bring her to her knees after it all, let her lay bleeding on the ground like those people she refused to help. Though unlike those people she will not allowed to die, her punishment will be having to live with the thought that she could have done something to save herself know as the Captain drags her along with him, trapped in his hold forever more.

#yandere capitano x reader #yandere capitano #yandere genshin #yandere genshin impact x reader #yandere genshin imagines #yandere genshin x reader #yandere genshin impact #yandere genshin x you #yancore #yandere #capitano x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact imagines

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mollywog · 2 years ago

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Thinking about Katniss’s friendship with Madge (and also Gale)

I think Madge is important for several reasons, but one being: She shows us that Katniss doesn't 100% 'buy' the whole merchant vs seam thing.

The mayor’s daughter, Madge, opens the door. She’s in my year at school. Being the mayor’s daughter, you’d expect her to be a snob, but she’s all right. She just keeps to herself. Like me. Since neither of us really has a group of friends, we seem to end up together a lot at school. Eating lunch, sitting next to each other at assemblies, partnering for sports activities. We rarely talk, which suits us both just fine.

Katniss (and Gale) are actually progress thinkers in this way. They hold biases/resentment about the merchants, but also can recognize it as a Capital driven division.

Even though Gale snaps at Madge at the start of the book, Katniss credits him with knowing ‘his anger at Madge is misdirected.’ In fact he is the one verbalizing the idea to her.

You can see why someone like Madge, who has never been at risk of needing a tessera, can set him off. The chance of her name being drawn is very slim compared to those of us who live in the Seam. Not impossible, but slim. And even though the rules were set up by the Capitol, not the districts, certainly not Madge's family, it's hard not to resent those who don't have to sign up for tesserae.

Gale knows his anger at Madge is misdirected. On other days, deep in the woods, I've listened to him rant about how the tesserae are just another tool to cause misery in our district. A way to plant hatred between the starving workers of the Seam and those who can generally count on supper and thereby ensure we will never trust one another. "It's to the Capitol's advantage to have us divided among ourselves," he might say if there were no ears to hear but mine. If it wasn't reaping day. If a girl with a gold pin and no tesserae had not made what I'm sure she thought was a harmless comment.

Madge and Gale inspire Katniss’s rebellious actions just as much Peeta

Madge’s pin is what makes Rue trust Katniss.

I unclasp the pin and hold it out to her. “Here, you take it. It has more meaning for you than me.”

“Oh, no,” says Rue, closing my fingers back over the pin. “I like to see it on you. That’s how I decided I could trust you. Besides, I have this.” She pulls a necklace woven out of some kind of grass from her shirt. On it, hangs a roughly carved wooden star. Or maybe it’s a flower. “It’s a good luck charm.”

And Katniss is reminded of both Gale’s rants and Peeta’s piece in their games speech in the aftermath of Rue’s death

Gale’s voice is in my head. His ravings against the Capitol no longer pointless, no longer to be ignored. Rue’s death has forced me to confront my own fury against the cruelty, the injustice they inflict upon us. But here, even more strongly than at home, I feel my impotence. There’s no way to take revenge on the Capitol. Is there?

Then I remember Peeta’s words on the roof. “Only I keep wishing I could think of a way to . . . to show the Capitol they don’t own me. That I’m more than just a piece in their Games.” And for the first time, I understand what he means.

Please also check out this beautiful analysis of Madge by @wistfulweaverwoman!

#thg #the hunger games #Katniss Everdeen #gale hawthorne #madge undersee #peeta mellark #rue #74th hunger games

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avocad1s · 1 year ago

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Trial By Combat - 3

Requested By: No One. Original Work.

CW: Post-Impostor SAGAU,

Summary: Focalors apologizes

Note: This is so late and I apologize for that!

If vou haven't finished the Fontaine Archon quest, please exit stage left.

Part One Part Two Part Four

The rain drops pelted the windows. It seemed never-ending. The sky still looked tormented by the thick overcast of gray clouds that blocked the morning sun. Fontaine hadn’t seen a day of sunshine in days and the Chief Justice couldn’t bring himself to work another day in a row.

No many how many hours he wasted staring at the file created for your case, it did nothing to relieve the amount of sadness he had in his heart. Neuvillette is the most trusted and respected person in the entire nation but even he couldn’t see past the empty accusations the Hydro Archon made.

Once the trial began and he saw your face he had his doubts, your physical appearance was beyond comparison. He didn’t want to believe that you were an imposter, that you had ill intentions but he couldn’t let his personal feelings get in the way of justice.

He wasn’t the only one with these thoughts, people who sat in the audience began to whisper amongst themselves wondering if you really were a fake.

However a few words from Furina were enough to get many people on board.

‘Do not let yourselves be fooled by their appearance my dear people, they want us to let our guard down! I will personally reveal the truth behind their deceit.’

Yet you do not stand trial, you ask to duel for your innocence and he accepts.

That was his biggest mistake.

He knew that you were no match for Clorinde and he knew that he could’ve intervened at any time, but he didn’t.

You laid on the dueling grounds blood quickly poured from your body. Medical staff and Clorinde were quick to carry you away from the public but Neuvillette will never forgive his inaction.

Suddenly he blinks as a raindrop slides down his cheek.

Just like she promised, Furina returned to your room at daybreak. Once you were in her line of sight she bows slightly speaking in a soft tone.

“Your Grace, thank you for allowing me to return.”

You say nothing, watching the people down below navigate through the weather with their parasols in hand.

She takes a step forward. Would you allow her to get close to you again? The last thing she wants is for you to yell even if she deserves it. She takes small steps forward, paying close attention to your face taking note of any displeasure you may feel from her presence.

Eventually she was close enough to touch you, she readjusts her hat slightly before kneeling down resting her hand on top of yours. The Archon smiles slightly feeling a sense of relief wash over her.

“I am a fool,” Furina breathes out, “I should’ve been the first to recognize you but I didn’t and now I will pay the price…”

She feels her lips tremble. Was she going to shed tears in front of her God again?

“I know that there’s no way I can fix this but-“

“You’re right Furina,” you interject, “there’s no way you can fix this.”

She looks up at you with watery eyes.

“But I was doing some thinking last night and I want to move on from this.” You finally look down at her examining her expression. “that doesn’t mean I forgive you and I definitely won’t forget what you did.”

Furina let’s out a breath, you truly were a benevolent being. She was ready to do anything for you to give her another chance, even if she had to pull her gnosis out of her chest.

“Thank you for this opportunity Your Grace,” she gives you a smile, “I will do everything in my power to prove my loyalty to you again.”

You decide not to respond to her statement instead turning your gaze to the bundle of flowers on your bedside table. The stems were going limp and the color of the petals were fading. Whoever brought them must’ve forgotten to water them, they’re almost dead now.

Furina stands up wiping her wet cheeks as she gives you a small smile. “Your Grace, would it be alright if I show you around Fontaine? I know everyone would be very happy to see that you’re doing okay.”

You look out the window once more, she was right. There was a large crowd of people who stood outside the building you were in. Many of them holding gifts that they hope to give to you.

You open your mouth to respond but another voice cuts you off.

“Lady Furina that’s not a good idea…”

Clorinde leaned against the threshold of the door, she had dark circles under her eyes as she stared at the two of you. “Their Grace’s wounds are still healing. Walking for extended periods of time could be dangerous.”

Furina pouts slightly at her words but she knew Clorinde was right. If you were to tear your stitches you might not survive another operation, and the mere thought of you dying sends shivers down the Archon’s spine.

“You should let them get plenty of rest for now.” Clorinde suggests, “The medical staff will return tomorrow to change their bandages and give an update on their condition.“

You can see Furina visibly deflate at her words, “I know, I know…”

With a bit more pushing, Furina soon left with Clorinde leaving you alone in the room once again. Suddenly you feel a wave a fatigue wash over you, maybe not getting any sleep throughout the night was a bad idea. You stand from the windowsill and walk slowly over to the bed sinking into the soft material. A sigh leaves your mouth as you close your eyes listening to the sounds of rain against the glass until you eventually fell asleep.

You wake up to the sound of small footsteps, their voices are hushed as they walk around the room. You decide to keep your eyes closed, curious what their intentions of coming here were.

��Let’s change the flowers before they wake up. We don’t want to get caught.”

Hmm. So they’re the ones bringing the flowers.

You open your eyes sitting up in bed and your meet with…

…a Melusine?

“Oh no! We’ve been caught!”

The two hang their heads down sadly, as if they were were just caught by their parent.

“So you two were the ones who brought flowers to my bed?”

The Melusine look at each other then at you.

“Monsieur Neuvillette asked us to bring these to you.” One of them confessed.

You blink, “Neuvillette? He asked you to bring these?”

She nods holding the flowers out to you, “will you take them? It would make him really happy if you did.”

You hesitate for a moment, staring at the bouquet in the Melusine’s hands. Even if you couldn’t forgive any of them now for what happened. What good would holding a grudge do?

You take the flowers bringing them to your face to smell the sweet scent. “Thank you for bringing these to me, tell Neuvillette I said thank you.”

The Melusine give you a closed eye smile nodding as they walk towards the door. However before they were fully out of earshot, you hear one of them say:

“Maybe we’ll have some better weather now.”

You look down at the flowers, they truly were beautiful. They were Romaritime flowers, ones they could only be picked with the hydro element. You feel a small smile spread on your face as you replace the other bouquet with the new one. With a busy schedule like his, Neuvillette must’ve went out of his way to get these for you.

Underneath the cover a darkness, a large ship docks right outside the court of Fontaine.

It was unusual for a ship to come at this time but there was no mistaking that symbol that steered any citizen away as quickly as possible.

“Lady Harbinger, we’ve arrived.”

The Knave stands from her seat, she wasn’t here for diplomatic reasons or for her comrade that rotted in Fontaine’s prison. Her reasons for returning home were purely selfish.

She steps off the boat her heel landing in a puddle the was slowly drying from the warm breeze Sumeru’s desert nearby. The Knave looks up expecting to see rain clouds but is met with thousands of stars spread across the night sky. It was a clear night.

“All of you head to the Northland Bank and do not reveal our true reason for coming here to anyone. I will retrieve Their Grace myself.”

Tagging: @bittersweetorpheus @esthelily @tempestlart @angelofdarkness2 @mmeatt @dxprived4-starboys

If your @ is bolded, for some reason I cannot tag you! :(

If you wish to be removed from the tag list you can comment or inbox me and I’ll take you off :)

#genshin cult au #sagau #genshin impact sagau #genshin sagau #genshin cult #sagau x reader #imposter sagau #sagau impostor au #self aware genshin

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kenzie-floops · 1 month ago

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Visions of You: A Lilia Calderu x femaledivination!reader

Heyyyy this is my return to fanfic, but it's been a while so I'm a bit rusty. Constructive criticism not insults please! If you don't like it.. don't read it, it's that's simple.

This will be the first part of a new series I'm working on called Visions of You. Reader is a female divinations witch, around the same age as Lilia, but physical appearance is up to you. More will be revealed later, but a happy ending is in store!

If you'd like to be added to the tag list, or taken off, let me know!

Warnings: cussing

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KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK!

I roll over and peep open my eyes to look at my alarm clock. 12:42. What the hell is someone banging on my door this time of day for?

I push myself up out of bed, and wrap my robe around myself as I make my way to the door.

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK!

“I’m coming, i’m coming!” I shouted. Could they bang any harder on my door?!?

I quickly grab the front door and thrust it open, blinking quickly at the sunlight.

“Yes? What do you need so urgently you almost banged my door down?” I grumpily ask the two strangers standing at my door as I attempt to wipe away some of the groggy sleep from my eyes.

“Oh!” A shrill voice pipes up. “Sorry about that, we’re just in a bit of a rush. Didn’t mean to give you such a harsh wake-up. Although it is past noon on a weekday…” The voice trails off and I snap my head up.

I had to pick up an extra shift last night at the club because one of the other bottle girls had gotten sick. That meant working on my feet for longer than usual, and I was definitely tired from the extra hours.

“Listen kiddo, i work the night shift down at the club and i’ve only been asleep for a couple hours, so excuse me if i’m a little grumpy at the fact some kid was banging on my door while i'm trying to rest” i huff out with impatience. “Now will you kindly get off my doorstep? I don’t want your cookies, or t-shirts or whatever the hell it is you’re selling”.

I turned to close the door when the woman I hadn't noticed standing next to the teenager spoke.

“Seriously, Y/N? Working at the local club? I didn’t think you had the guts for stripping” she says while snickering.

I bristle at the insult. “Now just wait a minute here. I’m not a stripper, I'm a bottle girl! And who are you to throw around judgment, showing up on my front door when I don't even know…” I trail off as i get a good look at her face and recognize just who’s come to bother me. No way…

“Well holy shit!” I exclaim, throwing my hands up in the air. I lean against the door frame and look her up and down slowly. “Now that’s a face I haven't seen in a few centuries. Agatha fucking Harkness! Can’t say I've missed your presence. What brings you to my doorstep?”

“I’ve got a proposition for you. Mind if we come in?” she questions as she gestures inside.

I throw my head back in laughter before turning around to go inside, leaving the door ajar.

“Sure!” I yell over my shoulder. “Come on in. I’m gonna make some tea.”

Both Agatha and the boy trail after me into the kitchen. Out of the corner of my eye, I see the boy following my movements as he takes in my kitchen. It’s full of dried herbs and flowers hanging from faded yellow walls. I fling open my aged brown cabinets and rifle around for a mason jar of tea leaves.

As I prepare my water to boil and place the tea leaves in a sachet I ask “So, what brings you by Agatha? Looking for me to join you on one of your latest murder sprees in the search for some powerful totem?”

I turn from the counter to face them, seeing that Agatha has already made herself comfortable at my small dining table. The boy was standing awkwardly behind her.

I look the boy up and down and raise my eyebrows at Agatha. “What’s with the boy?” i question, “Finally taken on an apprentice to teach your dark and evil ways to? He seems quite young to be following in your trail of corrupted darkness.”

The boy goes to respond, but Agatha cuts him off. “No, no, no, this is Teen and he’s…” She trails off a bit and I go to finish pouring my tea. Teen? That’s a strange name. Whatever. He got himself involved with Harkness, not my problem to deal with.

“ A pet. Yes!” she exclaims, clapping her hands. “He’s my pet. Now listen Y/N i have a proposition for you.”

I roll my eyes at her. “Agatha, I really don’t know what’s got you at my house stirring shit up, but I can assure you I'm not interested. If your undoubtedly dangerous proposal was all you came for, you best be going now.”

I move to usher her out the door before ‘Teen’ shouts out. “We’re going on the Witches Road and we want you to join us!”

He looks down a bit sheepishly as I give a bug eyed stare.

“Please?” he hesitantly asks. “We need a divination witch and the road will give you what you want most if you join us.” He’s gotta be kidding. The Road is a death wish.

I swiftly turn to Agatha, who shakes her head in exasperation at Teen.

“Really, Agatha?!” I exclaim, throwing my hand up in the air and moving wildly around the room. “The Road is a death wish. No one makes it through. What have you deluded this poor boy into thinking?”

“She hasn’t deluded me!”, Teen replies. “It was my idea actually.”

I bury my head in my hands. No way am I joining Agatha Harknesse’s coven to journey down the Witches Road. I am not that crazy, despite what some may think and say.

“Oh hell no. Thank you but no thank you for the offer. I plan on staying alive for the foreseeable future. Harkness, take the boy and leave,” I whip around to face her, “ and please don’t come back. I don’t need whatever's got you spooked enough to go on the witches road coming after me”.

“Oh come on!” she exasperatedly yells. “We both know you’ve been searching for something you’re never gonna find Y/N.” How the hell does she know about that? I’ve never told her of my visions of her. But then again, I asked around for decades. Maybe she caught wind of it through the grapevine of the witch community.

“Travel the Witches Road with me” she offers. “The Road will give you what you want most when we reach the end”.

“If we reach the end” I interject. “If.”

She’s right though. If i join them, and can successfully make it to the end of the road it will tell me how to find her. All those visions of her for all those years… Her beautiful brown eyes, her soft curly hair. What I wouldn't give to see her smile for real, and not just in a vision.

I sigh heavily as I bring my eyes to Agatha’s. I’m seriously considering it, and for a moment I almost say yes… but I know Agatha’s reputation. Even though at one point I would have liked us to be friends, I know I can't trust her. Going on the Road with her would be certain death, and then i’d never find her.

“Agatha…” I start. “I can’t. I just can’t. Now if that's all, get out of my house. I’m tired.”

“Ok, ok” she says, lifting her hands in mock surrender as she turns to leave.

Unexpectedly, Teen makes his way towards me. “Here” he says as he places a card in my hand. “This is Agatha’s address. Be here tonight at 6:30 if you change your mind, and I hope you will” he says as smiles.

“Teen!” Agatha barks from the doorway. “Come on! We don’t have all day”

Teen runs after her, and as suddenly as they had woken me, they left, and I was there to sit with my own thoughts.

At least my tea has cooled off enough to drink.

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

@end0r4

#agatha all along #lilia calderu #agatha harkness #lilia calderu x reader

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kneelingshadowsalome · 9 months ago

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Hi!! I'm sososo obsessed with Satyr König oml you're a genius (also I've binge read your whole yandere könig tag it's so perfect). Okay so sorry in advance for my English, but:

I can't stop thinking about a shy (and kinda pervert lmao) nymph reader who sees him, sees how big and strong he is and how well he secretly protects all her sisters (and how irresistible his big, thick cock is) and really falls in love and is wildly attracted to him, BUT she's very shy and the idea of telling him her feelings is too mortifying, so when he's out in the woods she sneaks in his den, tidies the place up, brings him some flowers as gifts (yeah im inverting the usual roles lol), snuggles in his bed of furs (maybe touches herself fantasizing about him-) and König, well, notices the changes in his house and is VERY perplexed, so one day he returns earlier than usual and sees this cute, soft and unaware nymph moaning and whimpering in his den, her face against his furs, all wet and willing and ready to mate while she quietly moans his name, eyes closed and face red- he'd go FERAL

The idea of desperately horny satyr König with a more than willing needy nymph makes my brain melt oml

(And btw, do you think you'll ever write Satyr König again, in general?)

Satyr!König goes absolutely feral, yes.

He noticed the lingering sweet scent at the mouth of his den already, a sugary, floral scent that he knows so very well. He knows it to his core, because his nose wants to follow that scent whenever he catches it.

Only nymphs smell this sweet, like flower meadows and moonlight, like spring water and honeycombs. The distinct scent of a kore is eerie, and only gets stronger when he walks further into his lair, but what’s more is that he recognizes who this particular scent belongs to… He has memorized her in his loneliness, and every time he catches a whiff of her in the air outside, he can’t help but grow hard.

He barely even notices the absence of his usual mess, that someone has washed all his cups and put his wine pots in order. His den has seen a lot of brooming, and there are fresh flowers placed on his oaken table, thoughtful bouquets hanged from the roots of his oak. But before he gets to inspect those odd little things further – he’s used to trampling flowers out in the wild, he never even thought of using them as decoration, but they do look kind of nice, don’t they? – he hears a soft whimper from the back of the den.

From where he sleeps, and isn’t it peculiar how he can now smell something else, now, too… Something irresistibly heady, something that demands action at once, making his cock stir and swell to the point where it’s almost painful. There’s another soft moan, calling to him like an enchanted flute: his whole den has changed from a dark dungeon into a soft, scented temple, echoing with the sounds of a maiden in heat.

He finds her spread over his thick, musky furs, furs that have seen countless lonely nights, and have to be changed every turn of the moon because they’re so grimy. She doesn’t seem to have any trouble with laying down in his filth, the rough furs that smell of seed and satyr sweat, of old musk and maybe a few tears. Satyrs cannot cry, they say, but that’s only because no one ever sees them do so. He’s spilled more than his fill of salt on that makeshift bed, and not all of it was ropes of hot seed…

“P–please…”

She sees him, sees how surprised he is catching her here, in the place all nymphs always try to evade. She sees how hard he is while watching her bare and panting there, all over his furs, lips swollen from lust. Both up and down, her lips are wet and quivering; she’s completely ready to be taken, and only the tiniest sliver of respect prevents him from fucking her senseless right here and right now.

“Please, I beg of you…”

But when she begs for it like that…?

He doesn’t hesitate a moment longer. He simply cannot.

And why waste time on thinking how she got here (or more importantly, why she got here?) Why mull on the hot question of why isn’t the loveliest creature on earth trying to get away from him?

“No need to beg,” he grunts as he lays himself upon her, cock hot and already leaking as it finds her entrance.

The smell of ambrosia envelops him as he glides inside, the whimper from his nymph a song of paradise. She smiles softly at such immediate lust, or is it the sun that comes out of the clouds, somehow reaching under the branches of this oak?

She welcomes him with open arms, a tear falling down her temple and into her hair as he tries to be gentle with her. But it’s not really his size or his lust that makes her cry. Her hands trail up and down his sides, they try to desperately wrap around his wide torso. She looks into his eyes while he starts to rut her, amazed to have been granted such a blessing at all.

“I’m in love with you,” she sighs into the air between them, her eyes glimmering with worship in the dim, earthy dusk of his den.

He messes up with his thrusts, breathing out his shock while hovering over her. She’s so delicate and frail, and so desperate for a nymph who’s supposed to be frolicking in the open fields… She should be climbing in the tall trees and giggling at centaurs from there, she should be admiring the full moon and the stars, she should be playing in the freshwater with her sisters.

He always thought this one feared him the most, slinking into the shadows beneath the trees whenever she saw him. Casting her eyes down as if she didn’t want him to notice her at all, never mocking or teasing him like the others did. That’s why he left her alone: because he didn’t want to break her. She was far too pure for someone like him.

But now she’s here, with flowers and a hot, wet body, trying to grab him so hopelessly in her fragile embrace…

“You can’t say things like that, little one,” he warns, feeling something akin to fear for the first time in his life.

“Why not…? It’s true,” she chimes there beneath him, a few more tears of joy rolling down her cheeks.

His chest is burning, but the only sound that comes out of him is a low growl. A warning and a plea.

“You shouldn’t tease an old faun.”

“And you shouldn’t stop what you only just started...”

He blinks at her answer, at her soft smile.

Then, he shoots down to kiss her neck.

She moans from love when he opens his mouth, careful not to puncture her delicate flesh with his teeth: he only devours his nymph with soft hunger, licking and sucking her soft skin. Her giggles and sighs drive him to the sweetest madness as he starts to make love to her under the earth.

His home has never heard such cries of joy, felt or seen such displays of devotion… He returns her confessions thousandfold, in every way he can. These silly little creatures always fear a satyr’s love is only about lust, and therefore escape such hollow adoration, but he’s not here to just ease the pain in his sacks.

He’s now forever bound to her, whether she knows it or not…

#satyr!könig #nymph!reader #tw: lovemaking #könig x reader #purple prose

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bellaveux · 1 year ago

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hi! could you please do one about reader x wanda on college where reader cheats on her boyfriend with wanda but wanda genuinely loves reader so much that she can’t help but want more?

DREAMING OF YOU | wanda maximoff x reader

pairing: wanda maximoff x fem!reader

genre: angst w/ happy ending, fluff, smut

summary: while being constantly ignored by your boyfriend, wanda decides to keep you company for the night and eventually, for the rest of the weeks that follow, wanting more than just sex with you and vows to show you the kind of love you truly deserve.

content warnings: minors dni! angst with happy ending, some fluff, college au!wanda maximoff x reader, artist!reader, wanda is in love, cheating, mentions of drinking, toxic boyfriend named tyler bc i didn’t know what else to name him, one smut scene; top!wanda, bottom!reader, oral and fingering (r receiving), praise kink

word count: 12.9k

note: i’m so sorry for the long wait, it was not supposed to take a whole month for me to write :( i also did not mean for this to be so long, i kind of got carried away, but i hope you like it!!

There used to be a time when your boyfriend would always tell you that he loved you, no matter what the conversation or situation was. You would always ask him why he did certain things for you; give you flowers, take you out to dinner, wanting to do everything with you, or even things like fight with you, annoy you. He would always say ‘Because, I love you,’ no matter what. And, you missed those times. You missed when he felt like he was a part of you when you were his top priority as he was yours. Now, somewhere down the road, you lost all of that with him. He only has the time to take you to parties, as a sort of accessory to keep by his side, then refuses to talk to you, and ignores you half of the time.

You never liked the parties your boyfriend always dragged you to. They were loud, too crowded for your taste and your boyfriend always ended up finding some kind of excuse to leave you alone all by yourself as he mingled around. You feel lost and disconnected in places like this while your boyfriend revels in the chaos of social interactions, all while seemingly drowning himself in beer and alcohol.

Your likeness for him had slowly dwindled down over time, and you wondered what had happened between the two of you for him to change so much from the man you used to be so fond of.

And, no, Tyler didn’t always use to be such a jerk to you. In the beginning, he was kind, and gentle and seemed to be interested in whatever you were interested in. He was the kind to buy you flowers when he would think of you, take you on romantic dates in the city, and tell you he loved you every day. You liked him in the beginning, maybe even fell in love with him at some point—well, you couldn’t remember what that felt like with him anymore.

Now, he barely even replies to your texts, answers your calls, ignores you when you try to talk to him, and leaves you alone at a party full of people you don’t recognize, just for him to go and play beer pong and chug an unhealthy amount of beer with the other guys on the football team. He even lets these random girls feel up on him and openly flirt with him from time to time now, forgetting all about the girl he dragged along with him, who was now glaring at him from across the room. He doesn’t even do anything to stop them, which only fuels your anger even more.

It wasn’t like you weren’t used to him being this way. This behavior had gotten quite frequent as time went on, and you’ve always thought about breaking up with him. But, each time, he’d fool you with those sweet words and apologies, and tell you he’d be good for you, do better for you, tell you he loved you, and tell you that he wouldn’t know what to do without you.

And, for some reason, you always fell for it.

You don’t know if it’s because you so desperately want to cling to the past — the past that you remember being so good and lovely. The times when he treated you right was like a dream and you always wanted to believe it could be that way again. Somehow. Because, you liked him. At least, you did then. It was hard to know because everything felt awkward, everything felt insincere. You knew that when the next morning comes, he’ll buy you flowers once again, tell you how sorry he was for accidentally leaving you, and give you that lame excuse that he couldn’t find you in that crowd of people.

“I wanna leave, Tyler,” you told him, after tapping his shoulder to get his attention.

He turned to you and glared, stepping away from the circle of people that wrapped around the beer pong table, “Are you fucking kidding me? We just got here. Fuck. Go find something to do. I’ll take you home later.”

Truthfully, you were over it. You didn’t even bother talking back about it anyway, having done so plenty of times already and it always had the same outcome.

After a while, you found yourself in the kitchen of the sorority house, holding your third cup of some cheap alcohol you found and poured for yourself, not really sure of what else you could do but drink. The living room had that lingering smell of weed and warm bodies, and it was beginning to hurt your head the longer you stood in there, making you retreat to the back of the house where the kitchen was. The fresh smell of some brownies in the oven filled the air, and it was much better for your head than everything else outside of this room. They were probably weed brownies, but they smelled better than what was out there.

The thought of leaving by yourself had crossed your mind several times already, wondering if your boyfriend would even notice if you’d be gone. Who are you kidding? He wouldn’t. You liked to think he would sometimes—that he’d rush right after you when you stepped out the door, grab you by the wrist, and ask where you were going without him as if he cared. But, that would’ve been too good to be true.

And, you were too caught up in your thoughts to have noticed the figure that walked up next to you.

Wanda leaned over against the counter, standing quite close to you, nudging your shoulder lightly. You could smell that faint scent of alcohol from her lips even though she hadn’t spoken yet. She wore a big suit jacket over a plain shirt that fit loosely on her and held a red solo cup of her own, shaking it slightly as if she was checking if there was anything still in there like she couldn’t remember if she had drank what was in her cup yet.

Wanda saw you the moment you stepped into the sorority house, always cautiously watching the door for whoever walked in. After all, she lived here. She practically had her eyes on you all night, first noticing that bored look on your face when you walked in with that jerk you called your boyfriend. Then, she saw the rising anger fuming in your eyes when he walked away and left you alone to go hang out with his friends and other girls that he didn’t seem to mind.

She never really understood what you saw in him. From all of the stories she’s heard from mutual friends to what she has seen now, he was a complete asshole. Sure, when she met you for the first time, you were a happy couple, and he was good to you that time ago. But tonight, it was different. He was different to you and it only seemed to further her opinion of him.

It was maddening—the way he treated you. Wanda always found herself caught in a bittersweet daydream, one where she yearned to trade places with him, to be the one who could treat you with the love and care you truly deserved.

She had always loved you. From the moment you two met in your first year of college, Wanda had always loved you. With every interaction, every shared laugh, and every stolen glance, her feelings for you only deepened, growing into an unshakeable love that blossomed silently within her. You were perfect in her eyes; you were beautiful, kind-hearted, and talented, but you failed to recognize the fact that you deserved way better than what that stupid boyfriend of yours does for you. The love Wanda held for you became a quiet force that fueled her determination to be there for you, to support you, even if it meant remaining in the shadows.

And, deep down, you’ve feel as if you had always felt it. That love she had for you. You felt it when she would look at you, when she talked to you, and at first, you couldn’t tell what it was. She was a private woman, always so reserved, and never really dated properly within her time in college, other than a few flings and hookups here and there.

But you saw it firsthand each time she smiled at you.

Undeterred, Wanda angled her body towards you, the corners of her mouth turning upward in a determined smile. She positioned herself delicately, her face mere inches away from yours, so that you could hear her easily under the booming music, “What are you doing here alone?”

“Nothing,” you shrugged, taking a sip from your cup, not even bothering to look up at her. “Just felt too crowded in there.”

Wanda nodded and glanced out of the doorway, the first floor of the house practically flooding with people left and right. She noticed that solemn look on your face when you answered your question.

“Isn’t that Tyler outside?” She asked, even though she already knew the answer to that question. She watched you nod, your eyes staring down into the liquid in your cup.“Shouldn’t you be out there with him?”

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you sighed and shook your head, “No, he’s… He’s playing. I wouldn’t be much help… It’s whatever.”

“It’s not whatever,” Wanda countered, the levels of her own annoyance rising. “He’s being a shitty boyfriend.”

You didn’t say anything else and instead chewed on your bottom lip as you let her words sink in. He was, indeed, a shitty boyfriend, but hearing it out of someone else’s mouth felt bitter. Like you had to defend him in some way even though he treats you like shit. You knew that Wanda's assessment held a grain of truth, maybe a lot more than a grain, but your heart stubbornly clung to the remnants of love and loyalty you still felt for him.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—“

“No, it’s fine,” you tell her, immediately shaking your head as you glance out of the kitchen window, seeing your boyfriend down his drink in the backyard. “He’s just… busy.”

Wanda glanced out the window once more, eyes landing on your boyfriend. He was cheering, having won the same stupid game he was playing since he got here for the third time already, and he was probably drunk out of his mind right now, clearly not caring about the woman he had brought along with him. That woman being you.

And she could never understand it.

Wanda turned away and looked over at you. You stared down at your shoes out of boredom, seemingly waiting for something to happen at least. You wondered when your boyfriend would notice the fact that you’re even still here, waiting for the past hour and a half for him. But, every time you looked at him, he looked like he didn’t have a care in the world.

“Do you want to go somewhere quiet?” Wanda leaned over and asked, scratching the back of her neck. “There’s less people upstairs… And it’s quiet in my room.”

Wanda didn’t know if it was the tiny bit of alcohol she had talking for her, but she couldn’t help but ask—not when someone as beautiful as you stood alone in her kitchen.

“Your room?”

You took a moment to look past her shoulder again and over to the man you called your boyfriend, only to see him cheering on in front of the beer pong table with some other woman leaning close to him on his side. A sigh fell past your lips before turning back to look at Wanda.

As your gaze shifted from the window to meet Wanda's eyes, a sudden hush fell upon you. Your heart skipped a beat as you found yourself caught in the vortex of an unwavering stare, one filled with undeniable affection. She was looking at you the entire time. She looked at you like you were the only one there—as if every person, every object, every sound had faded into the background, leaving only the two of you inside this house. An unexpected wave of shyness washed over you, a blush creeping up your cheeks, wondering about what you should say next.

The gravity of Wanda's invitation to her room weighed heavily upon your conscience, knowing that accepting would lead you down an unfaithful path. A sense of moral obligation tugged at your heart, reminding her of the commitment you made to your boyfriend, who had now abandoned you once again. The knowledge weighed heavily on your heart, like an anchor that tugged at your sense of loyalty. You knew the dangerous allure that waited for you in her room. You very well understood the consequences, and how your heart might sway towards infidelity if you surrendered yourself completely to Wanda.

With each passing second, your internal struggle intensified. But, why were you so worried about loyalty when the man you once loved seemed to have none for you? You recognized the injustice of your situation, feeling a bitter taste of resentment rise within you as you thought of your boyfriend's indiscretions, allowing himself to be swayed by the company of random women at a party. It was a betrayal in its own right—a crack in the foundation of your relationship.

You decided you didn’t want to see him anymore tonight. And Wanda had the power to do that for you.

“Lead the way,” you said.

The woman’s eyes before you lit up at the sound of your words and with a tender smile, Wanda reached out, her hand extending towards you, a silent invitation for her to take you away from everything that worried you. You slipped your hand into hers, and with a gentle yet steady grip, her fingers interlaced with yours, beginning to pull you away and up the stairs.

Wanda maneuvered through the crowd, sidestepping intoxicated individuals who seemed oblivious to the world beyond their own indulgence. Laughter and music washed over you as you reached the second floor and down the hall toward Wanda’s room.

Your senses heightened as Wanda let you step into her private space, and you found herself instinctively pausing to take in your surroundings. Wanda made sure to not let your hand go, her thumb soothing over the back of your hand as you looked around. She stepped up behind you, gently resting her other hand on your hip as she pressed her front to your back softly. Your eyes swept across the room, drinking in the carefully curated collection of treasures that adorned each shelf and corner. The gentle hum of the music playing downstairs was muffled by the thick walls of Wanda’s room.

“Do you play?” You ask, eyes settling up the guitar by the side of her nightstand.

“Hmm, a bit,” she smiled as you raised your eyebrows, impressed at the fact. “I can show you any time you want. I can teach you.”

Her fingers brushed along the side of your waist, dancing along the fabric of your dress slightly as if she were forming guitar chords. Eventually, you let Wanda’s hands turn you around to face her, the soft scent of lavender filling the air as she leaned into you.

“You look so pretty tonight, (Y/n),” she whispered, shamelessly staring at your lips.

Her gaze shifted from your mouth and into your eyes, and there you saw the gentle look she held solely for you. Wanda gently lifted the hand she held, guiding your fingertips to her lips, pressing light kisses against your knuckles.

“Can I kiss you?”

“You already are,” you told her, the corners of your lips threatening to curve upwards.

Wanda smiled in return and brought her other hand up from your hip to your face, cupping your cheek and letting her thumb ghost over your bottom lip, “I mean… here.”

Her fingers trailed down to your jaw, “And right here.” To your neck, “And here.” Then, to your collarbone, “And… here.”

You sighed at the feeling of her feathery touches, closing your eyes as you relaxed in her hands.

“Can I?” She repeated.

And for a moment, you took a second to look at the moment before you, your cheeks getting warm from Wanda’s actions. The warmth of her breath mingled with the sweet touch of her lips against your fingertips as she waited patiently for your answer for the second time tonight. As the words hung in the air, Wanda's gaze remained fixed on you, captivated by the emotions flickering across your face. In that moment, you appeared more enchanting to her than ever, having you so close to her for the first time, wanting to kiss those lips she’d been dreaming about for so long.

“Yes, please,” you said.

Wanda leaned in, closing the distance between the two of you, and softly pressed her lips against yours as she moaned. Every brush and hum of your lips sent shivers down Wanda's spine. Time became a distant concept as you lost yourself in her kisses.

She slowly led you towards her bed, lips still pressed to yours. She had waited, with hope and uncertainty, for this moment to come. And finally, it was here. She’d show you. She’d show you how well she’d take care of you—how much better she could be than that boyfriend of yours. She’d give you everything you deserve. She’d prove it to you—change your mind, if possible, and have her be the only one to have and love you from now on.

Wanda pulled back after laying you down on her bed, staring down at you. She settled herself in between your legs and sighed at the feeling of your soft thighs under her hands. The sight of lips parting to catch your breath, your chest rising up and down, and your hair all over her pillows drove her crazy. Fuck.

“Are you sure about this?” Wanda asked.

“Please.” You nodded, reaching out to intertwine your fingers with hers and squeezing them, “I want you, Wanda.”

Once she was positive that you were positive, Wanda pulled her shirt over off, shuffled closer to you, and gently brought your hands up above your head. She leaned down and placed a chaste kiss against your lips once more before traveling down to litter soft kisses against your jaw and your neck. Her body hovered over yours as you squirmed underneath her touches, whining slightly as she sucked on your skin.

“Wait, Wanda,” you called out and she immediately stopped to look at you, patiently waiting for whatever you had to say. “Don’t leave any marks.”

Wanda blinked, feeling a sense of disappointment wash over her chest. She was excited to mark you, litter hickeys all over your skin as a reminder that you were hers for the night.

But she only bit her lip and nodded in return, “I won’t.”

After a beat, Wanda started kissing you once again. This time, her hands traveled downwards, running them along your thighs and up to where they met the hem of your velvety dress. She pushed the fabric upwards, your skin meeting the cold air inch by inch. Wanda was quick to provide warmth, squeezing the softness of your push thighs.

Her kisses eventually made their way down to the valley of your breasts, letting one of her hands grope your tits. Wanda groaned into your body as you let your hands run through her red hair, tugging at them slightly when she squeezed your tit with her palms.

“You’re so beautiful,” she whispered against you.

Getting to worship you like this, manifesting your true desires to her, and her alone, felt like a constant dream. She had always imagined what it would be like to see you like this; a hot mess underneath her, moaning for her to touch you. And now that it was here, she never wanted to let it go.

She’d imagine all the ways, all the positions she’d take you in, and make sure to take good care of you both always. She couldn’t wait to make you feel good. God, it was driving her insane. She couldn’t wait to have you. She wanted to make you see how much better she would be for you. And if there was one thing she wanted more than this; it was time. She wanted this to last forever. She wanted to eliminate all of the chances that could make you slip away from her grasp.

But you were here now, and she vowed to make it the best you’ve had with the time she was dealt with.

Her hands squeezed your thighs slightly as she stared down, “Spread those legs for me, sweetheart?”

Wanda kneeled and leaned down the moment your knees parted, the sight of your drenched laced panties coming into view from underneath your dress. Without a second thought, Wanda pressed the pads of her index and middle finger against the soaked fabric. With half-lidded eyes, she couldn’t help but lean down, pressing her nose against your clothed pussy.

“How are you this perfect?” Wanda sighed against your cunt, her fingers moving the fabric to the side to look at your wetness.

“Wanda…”

She looked up from in between your legs and licked her lips eagerly, “Yes, baby?”

“Hurry, please,” you whined. You couldn’t wait anymore. “I need you.”

Wanda felt her knees go weak when she heard those words. The sound of your voice, her name coming from your mouth, your hands in her hair… It was all too, perfect—you were so perfect.

After moments of admiring the sight of you in her bed, Wanda finally hooked her thumbs under your panties and dragged them slowly down your legs, making sure you were watching as she did so. The moment they came off, Wanda dove head first in between your legs, dragging the flat of her tongue through your folds. Firm and long licks switched into quick, fast kitten licks against your clit that had your thighs shaking around her head in a matter of seconds. You threaded your hands into her hair, moaning at the suddenness of her attack against your cunt. You dripped your sweet juices onto her tongue, causing her to moan softly against your clit, sending vibrations through your body.

“Tastes so fucking good, baby.”

Fuck, fuck, fuck. Wanda rolled her eyes to the back of her head, the taste of heaven filling her mouth. She moaned, lips and chin covered in her spit and your slick as she continued to eat you out.

“Wanda!” You whined as she wrapped her mouth around your clit and sucked.

The sight of your jaw dropping and your eyes rolling to the back of your head when she introduced her fingers into the mix was something she wanted to see over and over and over again. She carefully prodded your entrance with her middle finger, sucking onto your clit gently, teasing you by slipping barely an inch into you then pulling back out to rub you softly. As she did so, she could feel your hips buck and your legs tense up around her head as she hummed against your clit with a smile on her face.

You were soaking wet, dripping your juices all over the covers of her bed. Carefully, she slipped a single finger into you all the way down to her knuckle. She then curled it, emitting the loudest whine you let out for her tonight. She continued to curl her finger over and over, occasionally giving your clit some attention, sucking slightly and licking it gently as your orgasm started to build.

“Mmmph, fuck, Wanda, I—"

Her green eyes watched as you withered against her bed, because of her mouth, to taste you like this, and hear your delicious moans fall past your lips. She slipped a second finger into you, your velvety walls wrapping around her digits, coating them with your slick as you moaned into her pillow and pulled at the sheets.

“That’s it, (Y/n),” she stared up in awe as she watched your head fall back into the pillow, moaning at the feeling of her digits moving inside of your pussy. “Keep on making those noises for me, beautiful.”

Her two fingers that were swallowed inside your warmth began to speed up the moment she wrapped her lips around your clit once more, and sucked as hard as she could. You screamed into her pillow, trying to close your legs shut, engulfing her head with your plush thighs. Wanda decided that this was the best way to go; suffocating between your legs with the taste of your juices on her tongue.

Soon, your voice faded out and your moans became more like gasps and hiccups for air. Wanda closed her eyes, her mouth pulling away to move up your body, resting her lips against your neck as her breath fans across your skin. You whined and clawed at her back deliciously as Wanda pumped and pumped her fingers in and out of you at a faster pace. She could hear all of your juices squelching down there because of her fingers and she couldn’t help but roll her eyes back and moan at the sounds filling her room. She felt as if she was in heaven.

Wanda’s eyes, her pupils blown out from lust and darkened in desire didn’t help either, as the wetness between your legs only seemed to pool more and more as she fucked into you.

“I’m gonna cum, Wanda—“

“Yeah? Gonna cum all over my fingers, baby?” She whispered in your ear, grunting against the side of your face as she pumped into you harder with her thumb pressing harshly in circles against your clit.

Your orgasm hit hard, a sharp cry coming from your throat as you came, arching your back as Wanda slowed her movements. The sound of your cry sent shock waves straight down to her own core, and her eagerness to move inside of you, pressing against that spot in your pussy caused you to gasp and cry out again, shaking violently as you came around her fingers.

“Oh, fuck,” Wanda groaned against your neck, breathing heavily against you as you trembled in her bed. God, she wished she could make love to you forever.

And knowing that she couldn’t, Wanda made use of the time she had left for the rest of the night and fucked you for as time would allow her until the two of you grew tired and passed out on her bed.

Wanda held you close, pulling her blankets over you, naked bodies pressed together as you slept for the rest of the night. She savored the precious moments the two of you shared, knowing that her time with you was fleeting and she might not get a chance as good as this. She took some time to watch as you slept for a bit, her heart swelling with the feeling of you against her. It felt perfect, like you were made to fit right into her arms.

But a bittersweet reality loomed over Wanda's thoughts, a reminder that you belonged to another, your heart already spoken for by a distant boyfriend. The one person she envied, deeming him unworthy of your love. She wondered what it would be like to claim the entirety of your heart, to be the one who could provide solace and security for you in every waking moment, and not just for tonight.

Wanda's eyes traced the delicate curve of your cheek, her fingertips brushing against the soft strands of your hair. With a tender touch, she brushed her lips against your forehead, pressing a small kiss on your skin before falling asleep herself, while listening to the soft sound of your breathing.

She wished that this was forever. And she wished you wanted her the same way she wanted you.

A soft rustling sound reached Wanda’s ears, like the delicate whisper of fabric against fabric. Fluttering her eyes open slowly, Wanda could feel the subtle shift of the mattress, the gentle weight redistribution that accompanied your movement. Through half-closed eyes, Wanda's gaze settled upon your silhouette as you leaned down to pick your clothes up. You were in nothing but your underwear and you sat there for a second to look down at your phone, the glow of the screen casting gently upon your face.

“Hey,” Wanda whispered softly, propping herself up on one of her elbows, eyes still struggling to keep open.

You looked up in surprise, turning to see her rubbing her eyes as she looked at you, “Hey…”

“What’re you…” Wanda yawned and ran a hand through her hair. “What’re you doing? Are you leaving?”

There was a slight pout on her lips that you didn’t fail to notice. You watched her eyes lazily dart to the digital clock on her nightstand, furrowing her eyebrows slightly before turning her drowsy gaze away to look at you again.

“It’s six in the morning… on a Saturday,” she said as if it was obvious.

“I know,” you nodded and looked down at your phone, the screen completely filled with texts and missed calls from that boyfriend of yours. “I just… I think I should really get going, Wanda.”

There was a moment of silence.

“Oh.”

Wanda sighed and sat up properly, grabbing her shirt from the floor to put on. A very big part of her wanted to ask you to stay, over and over again, so that she could wrap her arms around you, underneath the covers, have you lay your head on her chest, and sleep peacefully with you for as long as she could.

But there was a slim chance you’d take that offer.

“I’ll drive you.”

“It’s fine,” you said, fixing your dress as you stood up from her bed. “I really don’t live that far.”

Truthfully, you did live quite a few ways away, but you wanted to sort out everything that was running through your head, and the time it would take to walk to your apartment might just let you do that.

Wanda bit her lip, wondering if she had done something wrong. She thought that maybe you were regretting the night before, thinking that one of the best nights she’s ever lived through was possibly a mistake in your eyes.

She hoped you didn’t think that.

“Are you sure?” Wanda grabbed her keys from her desk, just in case you change your mind. “I’m not tired.”

“I’m positive, Wanda,” you smiled lightly, knowing very well she wanted to back to sleep. “It’s okay.”

As you gathered your belongings, your movements deliberate yet tinged with a touch of haste, Wanda's gaze lingered upon you, committing every detail to memory. The way your fingers deftly secured a strand of hair behind your ear, the determined set of your jaw as you walked towards the door, the fleeting glances you stole in Wanda's direction—each moment etched itself in Wanda’s mind.

Time seemed to stretch as Wanda observed your preparations, each passing second amplifying the ache within her. She longed to reach out, to intertwine her fingers with yours and convince you to stay for a little while longer.

But the choice, ultimately, rested with you, and Wanda knew that she had to honor that.

“Wait,” she called out suddenly, her tone infused with a soft concern that you couldn't ignore, just as you had placed a hand on the doorknob. “One second.”

You watched her step away, rushing over to her closet near the corner of her room, then pulling out some brown jacket. With a tender smile, Wanda approached you, her hands enveloped in the folds of her own jacket.

"Here," Wanda murmured, her voice barely above a whisper as she offered the jacket to you. "It's probably cold out there."

There was a vulnerability in her eyes, a hidden message that spoke of the lengths she would go to protect and care for you, even in the smallest ways. Your eyes widened slightly, surprised yet touched by Wanda's gesture. A myriad of emotions flickered across your face—gratitude, a touch of longing, and a hint of reluctance. You hesitated for a moment, torn between accepting Wanda's offering and the weight of your own conflicted feelings.

“If you’re not going to let me drive you… at least take this,” Wanda said, sensing your inner struggle. “You can return it whenever. Or don’t. Whichever is fine.”

Your hand trembled ever so slightly as you reached out and accepted the jacket. The fabric felt warm and comforting against your skin, as though it held a piece of Wanda's essence within its fibers.

“Thank you,” you whispered, your voice filled with a mix of gratitude and unspoken emotions.

Wanda watched as you slipped into her jacket carefully, letting it fall gracefully upon your shoulders. It was a tad bit loose on you, and Wanda only found it adorable, nonetheless. It was her first time seeing you in one of her clothes and she had to bite back that smile that was threatening to show on her face. With a gentle touch, Wanda adjusted the collar of the jacket, ensuring it provided the utmost comfort and warmth for you.

You left soon after, leaving Wanda alone in the silence of her room.

The crisp air brushed against your cheeks, its touch a gentle reminder of the outside world. After walking out of the neighborhood, the city streets unfolded before you as you ventured forth, enveloped in Wanda's jacket. It was warm, you thought, like her. Wanda was warm. You felt her warmth the night before as she held you delicately like she was afraid of breaking you.

The weight of your actions pressed upon you, the guilt of infidelity intertwining with the intoxicating sensations that Wanda had awakened within you. Thoughts of your boyfriend, once a source of comfort and affection, mingled with memories of last night.

As you walked, the city whispered its secrets. The laughter of strangers, the busy morning road full of people heading into work in the early morning, the flickering lights of cafes and bars, and the intertwining streets became a chorus of reflections, mirroring the complexity of your emotions.

You wondered what your boyfriend was up to now, probably sleeping, and if he even thought of the possibility of you cheating on him. Would he even care at this point? You had always been a loyal girlfriend before your relationship had started crumbling, always being there for him as much as you could, trying to make him happy, just as he did for you. But, now, everything seemed to be thrown away, and it was like you didn’t even know him anymore.

Instead, you let your thoughts shift to Wanda—sweet and gentle Wanda. You couldn’t help but compare your boyfriend to her. In the course of a single night, Wanda had unraveled layers within you that had remained untouched for so long.

As you finally reached your apartment, you stood before the threshold, your heart heavy with the weight of your choices. With a deep breath, you stepped inside, the door closing behind you. The echoes of the city receded, leaving you alone with your thoughts and the echoes of conflicting emotions. You can’t help but think of the night before when Wanda showered you with that love and affection you’ve been craving. It was all you could think about.

And in this moment, you felt that you missed Wanda more than you did your boyfriend.

The entire month came around quickly, and the world around you sprang back to life, bustling with the rhythms of college life. The campus hummed with the energy of students making their way to their classes. As you made your way to the art building, you found yourself clutching a bouquet of vibrant flowers, another peace offering from your boyfriend, a gesture meant to make amends for doing something that hurt your feelings. Again. It was typical.

Yet, you didn’t feel anything as you looked at the flowers. The colors of the flowers seemed muted, the petals lacking the vibrancy that you craved. You couldn't help but feel a tinge of disappointment, a sense of disconnection that overshadowed any gratitude you should have felt. You couldn't shake the nagging sensation that something essential was missing.

And Wanda felt the same thing, if not, more. God, she missed you the moment you slipped out of her arms that morning. Just the thought of you in her bed, moaning her name just like you did that night sent her into orbit. She wanted you all over again. She needed you. And she just couldn’t help herself. Not when she got the taste of what it would be like to have you in that way. You were addicting. She wanted more. So much more.

So, then, it happened again. And again. And again.

For the past month, you’ve betrayed your boyfriend, seeking solace and love in the arms of Wanda. Every stolen moment, every secret rendezvous, ignited a passionate flame within you that you had never experienced before. She made love to you every week that passed. You’ve been having frequent late nights in Wanda's room, hidden within the walls of the sorority house. She made love to you every week that passed, stole you away from your classes to make out with you in secret, wanting to have her hands all over you as much as she could. A lot of the time, it would happen on nights when your boyfriend would drag you to another party and he was too caught up to notice that you’d disappear, stolen away by Wanda so that she could keep you all to herself.

On one hand, you felt guilty. But on the other hand, your heart yearned for Wanda and her touches, her gentle words, and the way she looked at you. With Wanda, you felt seen, heard, and cherished in a way you had never experienced before.

As your mind wandered through the labyrinth of your thoughts, everything around you seemed to fade into a blur of colors and shapes. But just as you were lost in the depths of your reverie, a soft but distinct knock echoed through your ears, jolting your senses.

“What are you painting?”

You snapped out of your trance and took in your surroundings. Unbeknownst to you, your art class, your final class of the day, had ended, and the studio was empty. Startled, your gaze shifted abruptly towards the door frame behind you, where a familiar figure stood, their presence bringing an instant surge of warmth to your heart. It was Wanda, the one who had occupied your thoughts so incessantly. She was leaning against the doorframe with her arms folded.

“What are you doing here?” You stood quickly, eyes flickering with a sense of surprise and worry.

“I missed you.”

You rushed out of your seat, quickly making your way over to where she stood. Wanda shifted under your gaze the moment you reached behind her to close the studio door before grabbing her arm and pulling her further into the room in case anyone saw her. Caught off guard by the sudden pull, Wanda stumbled slightly, her attention instantly captured by the sight of you.

You stood before her, clad in an artist's apron, tiny smudges of paint adorning your cheeks and hands. Your shirt, with its sleeves carefully folded, revealed glimpses of the same colors that lived on your canvas. And Wanda couldn’t help but smile at you.

“What are you smiling about?” You rolled your eyes, shyly tucking your hair behind your ear as you turned around to avoid her stare.

Wanda shook her head but kept the smile on her face, following closely behind you as you sat back down on the stool in front of your easel, “Nothing.”

“Seriously,” you say, rolling your eyes before picking the paintbrush up from your table. “What are you doing here?”

“Um,” Wanda struggled to find an excuse, “I was walking by and thought I’d come see you… just to see what you were up to.”

It wasn’t a total lie. But she missed you so much that she practically ran across the whole campus just to get to this building. And to be honest, she couldn't stop missing you if she tried. A month has passed since you left her bedroom that night, and the following weeks spent sneaking around with you almost felt both unsettling and heavenly to her—she had you, but at the same time, she didn’t. And, she hated it.

In truth, Wanda's last class was located on the other side of the campus, far from the art studio. But the distance mattered little to her. She had to see you, and now that she did, fighting the urge to touch you was practically unbearable.

“I’m working on my final piece,” you told her, staring down at the palette box on the wooden table, using a palette knife to mix your oils. “It’s just some finishing touches. It won’t dry soon enough if I do a thicker layer… even though I should, but it has to be done by next Wednesday…”

You went on rambling quietly about what else you needed to do as if you were not only talking to her but also reminding yourself, which was cute, Wanda thought. She listened intently, slowly making her way closer behind you, peeking over your shoulder with a curious smile as her hand slowly rested against your hip.

“What’s on Wednesday?” She asked, her front now pressed against your back as you continued to paint.

Your breath hitched at the contact, but you made no move to back away. She was warm—and you learned that you loved that about her. You could feel her face next to yours, closely observing each stroke of your brush, watching how your fingers danced over the canvas.

“Well, it’s due Wednesday and there’s, uh,” you cleared your throat, suddenly feeling nervous and fuzzy in your chest knowing she was so close to you. “An exhibit. It’s on Friday, actually, but they need to finish preparing for it by Thursday. The art professors are choosing some students to showcase their portfolios at the museum down the road. It’s funded by the university.”

Wanda’s eyebrows raised in surprise, “And you got chosen as one of the artists? Out the whole art department?”

You laughed and shook your head, “Don’t make it a big deal—“

“But it is a big deal!” Wanda turned her head to look at you, her eyes watching your features closely. “It’s amazing. Really.”

Your heart skipped a beat and your breath hitched in your throat as you turned to face Wanda, the tips of your noses brushing against each other, causing you to pull your head back slightly. Your eyes widened, taking in the breathtaking proximity of your faces, your breaths mingling in the shared space in between. And you began to notice things you’ve never really taken the time to admire.

Wanda's bright green eyes, like emerald gems, sparkled with a mixture of affection and curiosity. The strands of her tousled red hair tumbled slightly, probably from wind from outside, framing her features with an effortless charm. You drank in the sight of Wanda, committing every line and curve to your memory.

“I think you’re amazing,” Wanda whispered, her eyes darting from your eyes down to your lips.

You watched her eyes as she did so, your cheeks flushing slightly—usually because of the fact that she always wanted to kiss you.

Your voice trembled with a mix of uncertainty and longing as she began, “Wanda, wait… I don’t think we should—“

But before you could complete your sentence, Wanda tilted her head and closed the gap, her lips meeting yours in a gentle, yet fervent, kiss. Your initial protest was lost in the softness of Wanda's lips against your own as your eyes fluttered closed. Wanda's lips, warm and tender, spoke volumes of the love and adoration she held for you, and you couldn’t help but kiss her back.

The kiss deepened, Wanda running her tongue along your bottom lip, wrapping her arms, and running her hands around your waist from behind you as you welcomed her into your mouth with a soft moan. She had been wanting to kiss you again since the last time she saw you, and now that it was finally here, it felt like a dream come true.

You made out with Wanda until you felt like you were about to faint. You pulled away to catch your breath, keeping Wanda still by holding her shoulders in place as she continued to chase for your lips.

“Wanda,” you breathed, your mind filling itself with conflicting thoughts.

“No one’s going to see,” she tried to reassure you, her lips brushing against yours.

“T-That’s not what I’m worried about,” A sigh falls from your mouth, turning your head away from her before she could lean back in.

Wanda's eyes tried to search yours, filled with a mixture of determination and longing, wanting nothing more than to press her lips against your mouth over and over again. Her voice trembled with a blend of frustration and vulnerability as she asked, “Then, what are you worried about?”

“I-I’ve been wanting to talk to you. This whole month with you… It’s been amazing. You’ve been perfect. Truly. But, I… I don’t know if this is a good idea… anymore… and I’m still with Tyler,” you finally let out, struggling to find the right words to say.

She paused, suddenly feeling tense after listening to you.

“Then, break up with him,” she said softly, eyes gazing into yours, concentrating on what you had to say.

“Wanda…”

“You said it’s been amazing. I don’t…” She shook her head, furrowing her eyebrows for a split second. “I don’t understand why this isn’t a good idea anymore. I don’t understand why you won’t break up with him. Do you even still like him? Do you not like me?”

You stood from your seat and walked a couple of paces away from her. “Of course, I like you.”

Wanda clenched her jaw, watching you carefully as you ran your hand through your hair, “You know what I mean.”

And for a moment, you don’t answer. It wasn’t because you weren’t sure of what the answer was, it was because of how sure you were. Wanda had given you so much love in one month and within this hour than Tyler could’ve given you in the past year. You couldn’t love Wanda even if you were tired.

You closed your eyes, and sighed, “I do, Wanda.”

“Then, why are you still with him?”

“I don’t—I don’t know…” You stammered, frustration washing over your entire face. “I-I’ve been with him for so long and I’ve seen all of the good and the bad and I just can’t stop thinking about things like… what if he changes? I want to believe that he can, and lying to him constantly is starting to take a toll on me.”

“How long are you going to hold on to that ‘what if’? Hm? It’s been a month and he still hasn’t done anything to make you happy! He’s not just going to change overnight and besides, you’ve been constantly trying to talk to him about what’s wrong or what’s bothering but he doesn’t even seem to care!” She yelled, shaking her head slightly, “And what if he never changes? What if he keeps treating you like this? What then?”

Your eyes glistened with unshed tears as you listened to Wanda’s voice, tinged with a mixture of heartbreak and determination. Love, fear, loyalty, and doubt waged a fierce internal war within you. You knew deep down that Wanda was right, that your relationship with him was eroding your own happiness.

“Well, what are you asking me to do?” Wanda asked, furrowing her eyebrows.

“I-I don’t know—“

“If you’re going to ask me to just be friends with you, I’m not doing it,” she said, shaking her head, the thought of it waking her heart. “I can’t… I can’t just be friends with you.”

Your eyes softened at her words, “Wanda…”

“And, I know it’s scary. I know… It’s not going to be easy. I know you really liked him at some point back then, and that it’s hurting you that he’s like this,” Wanda said with a heavy heart as she watched the first of your tears run down your face. It tore her apart to be the one to make you cry, but she knew that you needed to hear it. “But, I really like you, too. And, I want to do things right with you. I want to take you out on dates and share the things I have with you. I want to kiss you. So many times. I want to worship you. I want to give you all the things you deserve. But, I don’t want to do any of that while you’re suffocating yourself in this relationship... You’re not happy with him, (Y/n). Not like you are with me.”

Your gaze faltered, torn between the love you felt for Wanda and the lingering ties that bound you to a toxic relationship. Fear and uncertainty swirled within you, clouding your judgment and eclipsing the clarity of your own desires.

Wanda furrowed her eyebrows again, her gaze landing on the flowers on the table, “Are these from him?”

The fact that you don’t say anything else answers Wanda’s question. She nodded, pain filling her chest as she stared at your back. Feeling like you ripped her heart right out of her, jealousy filled her veins and she grabbed her bag and made her way to the door.

“He’s a dick, (Y/n),” she started, halting in her tracks before she could walk out. “Love isn’t about hiding behind a bouquet of flowers to avoid talking to you. It’s not about waiting to see if things get better when all he does is give you a five-dollar bouquet as his way to apologize. He should be on his knees begging for your forgiveness. Because, if I were him, I’d do everything and anything to make sure you’re happy. I hope you know that.”

Then, she left.

You don’t see her for the next several days, not after that argument. She doesn’t text or call you and she doesn’t visit the art building anymore.

Days turned into nights, and you found yourself anxiously waiting for a message, a call, or any form of contact from Wanda. But the silence remained unbroken, leaving you to question the depth of the chasm that had grown between you. Your heart longed for Wanda's presence, for the sound of her voice, and the comfort of her embrace.

You replayed the argument over and over in your mind, dissecting every word exchanged and every emotion unleashed. You understood Wanda's frustration, her desire to be together with you, free from the toxicity that clung to your current relationship. And yet, fear had clouded your judgment, chaining you to a life that no longer brought you happiness.

The nights turned into weeks, and your heart grew heavier with each passing moment. You yearned for the sound of Wanda's laughter, the warmth of her smile, and the unwavering support she had always offered for you. The absence of her presence was a constant reminder of the choice you had made and the potential consequences of that choice. Two weeks had passed since the argument, and the silence that lingered between the two of you weighed heavily on your spirit.

And soon, Friday came: the night of the exhibit. A mixture of excitement and nervousness coursed through your veins. The gallery buzzed with activity, the air thick with the scent of anticipation. Your artwork adorned the walls along with several other students, each stroke of your brush conveying emotions you had kept hidden for so long.

As the guests began to trickle in, your eyes scanned the crowd, searching for a familiar face amidst the sea of strangers. Each passing moment filled you with a sense of anticipation. You wondered if Wanda would come, and if she remembered it. The murmurs and laughter of the attendees swirled around you, blending into an indistinct background noise.

As the minutes ticked away, each second seemed to stretch into eternity. Your heart raced, your palms clammy with nervous anticipation. And then, in the midst of your restless thoughts, about an hour into the exhibit, a figure appeared at the entrance of the gallery. Wanda's presence filled the room, her vibrant aura commanding attention.

You approached her, but you couldn't help but notice the subtle signs of conflict etched upon her face. Wanda's eyes, usually filled with a gentle glow, held a mixture of hope and trepidation. It was clear that she had taken a risk by attending the exhibit, despite the wounds of your recent disagreement.

The room seemed to quiet around the two of you as you inched your way closer, as if the universe recognized the significance of this moment. Your heart swelled with a mix of gratitude and remorse, realizing the depth of Wanda's love and her willingness to be there for you, even when it felt like she hadn’t spoken to you in ages.

Wordlessly, you stood beside Wanda, your shoulders almost touching, as you both gazed at the art that surrounded them. As the colors of your artwork danced across the gallery walls, you allowed yourself to hope, to believe that perhaps forgiveness and second chances were possible. And standing beside her, Wanda silently promised to be there, ready to support and love you, no matter the outcome.

“You came,” you breathed out, once you were close enough for her to hear. “You… you didn’t have to.”

Wanda turned at the sound of your voice, taking a moment to admire the way you looked tonight. The sight of you only made her curse under her breath, questioning why you had to look so damn good all the time.

“Of course, I came,” she said, subtle eyes skimming over the dress that wrapped around your curves. “I wouldn’t miss it. But, I am a little bit late… I didn’t know when it was starting.”

Your eyebrows twitched upwards as you listened to her words, pursing your lips as a way to hide the pain you were feeling in your chest, “No, it’s okay. I–I’m glad you’re here. I’m really happy you’re here.”

You hadn't expected Wanda to come, not after the fight and the painful silence that had ensued for the past two weeks. But she came anyway, to one of the most important nights you had been preparing for throughout the year and you were beyond grateful. You could kiss her right now.

But the pain you felt in your chest mostly stemmed from the fact that seeing Wanda here tonight made you recall what had happened between you two in the art studio. For the whole week, you thought you wouldn’t see her again, and it hurt to think that when that was all you wanted.

And not only that, but you were also disappointed in the fact that you couldn’t see Tyler anywhere. You wondered if he was going to come tonight, or if he even remembered. But, that doesn’t even matter to you anymore. It hurt, of course, but it was a typical feeling you grew tired of. She was right. And deep down, even though you chose to do the opposite of what she said, you knew she was, too. You felt guilty for hurting Wanda, and for trying to believe in your boyfriend when she had been telling you from the start that he wasn’t going to change.

“Um,” you started, trying to find the words to say. “How do you like it so far? The exhibit? Did you get to walk around a bit?”

Wanda smiled lightly, noticing that this was your way to have a conversation with her, “Yeah, yeah, I did. It’s amazing. Everyone did a great job. You’re all really talented.”

“Thank you,” you cleared your throat, turning away to hide the blush on your cheeks.

“Your paintings are breathtaking, (Y/n),” she said, her eyes tracing the strokes of your artwork with admiration. “Almost just as stunning as their maker.”

“Shut up,” you rolled your eyes playfully, nudging her shoulder a bit. You knew it was a way for her to lighten up the mood on a night that was so important to you.

“I’m serious,” Wanda smiled gently. “You look beautiful. Really. That dress… You’re stunning.”

A blush tinted your cheeks as she glanced down at your attire, a mixture of gratitude and unease evident in your expression. "Thank you, Wanda."

You were grateful. You really were. Tears of appreciation welled up in your eyes, reflecting the flickering lights of the gallery, as you thought about Wanda. You felt as if you didn't deserve Wanda's unwavering support, but you also couldn't deny the overwhelming gratitude you felt.

While your eyes occasionally darted to your phone, a sense of resignation had settled within you. You had sent countless messages to your boyfriend, seeking his whereabouts and wondering about his presence, but with each unanswered text, the realization began to crystallize in your heart. He would never change for you. He would never prioritize your happiness or love you the way you deserved.

As your eyes swept over the crowd, you struggled to find your boyfriend anywhere. His absence spoke volumes, a stark reminder of the shortcomings of your relationship and the love that had dwindled over time. But, Wanda's presence radiated with unwavering support and affection, reminding you of the love she had found in the midst of chaos.

“(Y/n)!” Another student called out for you. “Professor is looking for you. Some other teachers are asking about one of your paintings.”

“Oh, right. Yeah, I’ll be there in a sec,” you told her, biting your lip as you turned back around to face Wanda. “I… I have to go. But, if it’s okay, do you think you could… I’m allowed to leave in about thirty minutes—The students just need to be here for the opening since that’s when all of the critics and important art people and professors come in… And the gallery stays open for the rest of the night anyway, but after that, I’m free to go… So I was wondering if you could… I mean, if you even want to—”

“Yeah, I-I’ll wait for you,” she said with a smile, nodding her head eagerly without a second thought, interrupting your adorable ramble before you could even ask your question.

You had to fight a smile that was slowly making its way onto your face, “Okay, I-I’ll find you.”

Reluctantly, you stepped away to find your professor, who gestured toward a group of important art figures gathered nearby. You made your way towards them, your mind divided between the conversation that awaited you and Wanda. With each stolen glance, you couldn't help but notice the softness in Wanda's features, the way her eyes shimmered with a mix of emotions that mirrored her own.

Engaging in polite conversation with the art professionals, your attention wavered, your thoughts constantly drifting back to Wanda. You wanted to go back to her. As you listened intently to the conversation before you, your eyes would inevitably wander back to Wanda, who moved quietly, her every gesture captivating and graceful as she looked around

Yet, you knew that this conversation with your professor held importance for your artistic future. So, you remained present, exchanging pleasantries and discussing your work, all the while feeling the pull of your emotions toward Wanda, who appeared lost in your own thoughts as she explored the gallery.

When the conversation drew to a close, your professor commended you on your talent and potential, expressing a desire to further support your artistic journey. Grateful for the recognition, you excused yourself, your steps immediately directing themselves toward Wanda, who stood near a captivating sculpture. Your heart quickened as you made your way through the bustling gallery, your mind consumed with conflicting emotions.

But before you could reach her, your eyes caught the sight of a familiar man standing passed the glass doors of the gallery. He stood out by the entrance, a bouquet in his palm as he was about to step into the building.

Without wasting another second, you rushed over to where he stood, to try and keep him out because you felt that he didn’t belong here anymore.

“What are you doing here?” you said quietly, your voice tinged with a mix of exhaustion and frustration.

“(Y/n)! I’m so sorry for being late. I-I got caught up with work. You know how it is, and—and I couldn’t find the building and there was so much traffic when I was driving here,” Tyler said, muttering excuses after excuses. He held out the bouquet, his expression filled with contrived sincerity, “These are for you. I know how much you like them—”

“Tyler, I don’t want the flowers,” You shook your head, not even batting an eyelash at the way his arms dropped to the side after you said that sentence, gripping the plastic of the bouquet tightly in his hand. “I don’t want you here. I want you to leave.”

Confusion flickered across Tyler's face, quickly replaced by defensiveness. “What? I just fucking got here. I-I came to support you—”

“I am not going to do this with you again,” You rolled your eyes and glanced to the side, too furious to even look at him.

"Do what?"

“This, Tyler. I’m done. I’m done embarrassing myself. I’m tired you of treating me like shit. I can’t believe I spent so long trying to believe you’d change for me, but I’m not going to do that anymore. I’m done,” you said, swallowing the lump in your throat as tears welled up in your eyes.

Anger flashed across his face, his frustration bubbling to the surface. "What the fuck are you talking about? We've been together for years. We can work through this. It’s just a rough patch."

“No, Tyler. It isn’t. I’ve already tried talking to you about this! So many times! But you just ignore me, you don’t talk to me, you don’t pay any attention to me, you flirt with everyone else and all you do for me is buy me so many goddamn flowers like they mean something for you!”

“You’re fucking unbelievable,” he muttered under his breath, rolling his eyes as he turned to look away.

“I’m unbelievable? Are you kidding me?”

“Yes, you are! You’re always so fucking boring! Always sitting alone at parties, always wanting to leave early, and you never want to go out—“

“How is this my fault?” You cried out in frustration. “You… You don’t even love me anymore.”

“What, and you do?”

The argument spilled onto the streets, voices raised and emotions running high. Your heart ached as the realization hit you with crushing force—this was the end. The end of a relationship that had long been tainted by neglect, disrespect, and a lack of true connection.

“I’m not doing this again, Tyler. We’re done. You can go find some other girl to give those stupid flowers to. Because, it’s not going to be me.”

Without saying more, you stepped back into the gallery and rushed through the gallery, heading straight into the office room where you kept your things. You closed the door behind you, tears streaming down your face. You leaned against the table, your body trembling with both relief and sadness. The echoes of the breakup reverberated in your mind, reminding you of the pain you had endured and the weight that had been lifted from your shoulders.

As you allowed yourself to surrender to your emotions, you were unaware that Wanda had been watching when you ran into the room, seeing the tears that threatened to roll down your cheeks as you walked. But she waited. Wanda understood the need for you to process your feelings in private, respecting your space while patiently waiting for you.

Minutes passed and you wiped away your tears, taking deep breaths to steady your trembling form. You decided that you felt like the building was suffocating you and that you needed to leave, but you remembered Wanda. With each passing moment, your heart began to steady and you slowly grabbed your things before heading out again. You knew that your decision to break away from Tyler was the right one, even if it meant venturing into unknown territory with Wanda.

As you finally gathered the strength to leave the room, you slowly opened the door, your eyes adjusting to the dim lighting of the gallery once again. And there, standing just a few steps away, was Wanda. She gave you a small smile as you slowly made your way towards her.

“Hey, is everything okay?” Wanda watched as you tried to avoid her eyes as a way to hide the fact that you were crying. But she saw right through you.

You finally spoke, your voice trembled slightly, "I, um, think I need to get out of here, away from all this... everything. I know I asked you to wait—."

“No, it’s okay,” Wanda nodded immediately, her expression filled with empathy. "I’ll drive you home."

And normally, you’d protest and say you can go alone instead, but Wanda made no room for you to argue when she already started making her way towards the doors. Your eyes flickered with gratitude as you leaned into Wanda's presence, following closely behind her.

You stepped outside, the cool night air embracing the both of you as Wanda led you to her car. She opened the door for you, gesturing for you to slide into the passenger seat. You settled into the seat, glancing at Wanda as she made her way into her own, your eyes shimmering with vulnerability. Starting the engine, Wanda guided the car onto the open road of the city, leaving the gallery and its lingering shadows in the rearview mirror. The world outside the windows slowly became a blur of city lights and passing landscapes as time passed.

The drive was quiet. The soft hum of the car engine filled the air as she drove you home in a comforting silence. You sat quietly in the passenger seat, your gaze fixed on the passing streetlights, getting lost in your own thoughts. But Wanda stole glances at you whenever she could, her eyes tracing the delicate curve of your profile, sitting so pretty in the passenger seat of her car. You wore a jacket over that gorgeous dress you wore, and every fiber of Wanda's being yearned to reach out, to hold your hand, or put hers over your thigh.

But she restrained herself.

The car eventually glided to a stop in front of your apartment, the engine purring into silence. Wanda turned off the ignition and her gaze lingered on you for a moment longer before she spoke softly.

“We’re here,” she said, rubbing her hands against her jeans nervously.

You pulled yourself out of your trance the moment her words reached your ears, glancing out the window for a moment before looking back at her. She was waiting. You met Wanda's gaze, a flicker of a smile gracing your lips. She was waiting. You nodded once again, but you didn’t move to get out or anything.

Instead, you asked, “Do you want to come in?”

Wanda's eyes widened, eyebrows twitching in surprise, her initial shock giving way to a glimmer of hope that danced in the depths of her gaze. A gentle smile curved Wanda's lips, the subtlest of nods conveying her agreement, even fighting the urge to say ‘please.’

“Yeah.”

It was quiet when she entered your apartment, following behind in soft footsteps as you led her through your front door. She’s never really been inside before—all the secret nights you spent with her were in the comfort of her own room in the sorority house. She liked having you in her bed. Then again, she would love to be in yours, if you’d let her.

The air felt heavy with unspoken words, tension lingering from the events that had unfolded at the gallery. She followed closely behind you, her footsteps light and cautious as you led her down the hall to your kitchen. The atmosphere in the apartment seemed hushed, almost as if it was holding its breath, mirroring the uncertainty that lingered in Wanda's mind. Her mind raced with thoughts of what she could say, how she could comfort you, or how to even begin talking to you.

Leaning against the kitchen table, Wanda's gaze fixed upon your back, watching your every move as you prepared tea for her. Nervous anticipation coursed through her veins, a gentle thrum of excitement filling her chest as she stared at you. She found herself entranced by the sight of you before her. The dress hugged you in all of the right spots, every line and curve fitting you perfectly. And Wanda couldn't help but marvel at how effortlessly the fabric draped over your frame, molding itself to you, as if it had been designed with you in mind. Wanda didn’t know how long she was staring. Her eyes traced the gentle sway of your hips as you reached for a teacup, and she wanted nothing more than to pull you close to her.

“I broke up with him,” you blurted out suddenly.

Lost in her admiration, Wanda's breath hitched ever so slightly at the sound of your voice, pulling her out of her trance.

“I-I feel more relieved than sad actually… It’s like… I don’t know,” you sighed. “Should I be feeling guilty for being happy that we broke up? I feel like should be crying right now, but I feel… thankful.”

Wanda watched as you continued to make two cups of tea, your back turned to her, listening to your words carefully.

“I just don’t know if it’s okay for me to…”

You sighed again, and even if you didn’t finish your sentence, Wanda had a feeling she knew what you were going to say. She could sense the guilt and uncertainty that weighed heavily on your mind, knowing all too well the thoughts that plagued her.

Just as you were about to voice out the rest of your thoughts, you felt a pair of arms wrap around your waist, holding you softly as her front pressed against your back, “Is this okay?”

For a moment, you don’t say anything, and Wanda wonders if she should pull away and keep her distance until you decide what you feel is right or wrong. But her thoughts dissipated when she felt you nod. She sighed in relief, letting her eyes flutter closed as she brought her head down to your shoulder, kissing your skin there.

“I heard,” she started, mumbling into your shoulder so quietly that you almost didn’t hear. “When Tyler came. I just… I wanted to make sure he wouldn’t do anything.”

You stayed quiet as she spoke, slowly stirring the tea in the mug in front of you. Gently, she slipped her hand into yours, intertwining her fingers softly with yours before bringing it up to her face to kiss the back of your hand.

“I’m proud of you. Really. I am,” she said, rubbing the pad of her thumb along your skin.

“You were right,” You sighed and smiled gently, using your hands to run them over hers, the ones that rested against your stomach, holding you close against her, “I knew you were right. But, I should’ve listened to you sooner… I’m sorry.”

“No, no, you don’t have to apologize,” she said, shaking her head against your back. “I knew you were nervous about it. And that you were scared… I knew. But I pressured you about it anyway, even though I knew you weren’t ready yet.”

You turned around to look at her, your hands landing on her shoulders, “Wanda—“

“I would have waited either way. I already have been. I would still wait for you if you need me too,” she said, more sincerely than you’d ever heard anyone say anything before. “I would do anything.”

You stood there, your heart momentarily caught off guard by the surge of emotions that flooded your being. Wanda's words lingered in your mind, filled with a depth of sincerity that you had never experienced before. The toxic grip that your ex-boyfriend had held on your heart suddenly seemed insignificant, overshadowed by the overwhelming love you felt from just looking into Wanda’s eyes alone. You smiled sadly, slightly mad at yourself for not dropping everything to be with her sooner.

Bringing your hand up to her face, you smoothed your thumb over her cheek as a way to calm her down, “You don’t have to wait anymore, Wanda.”

Wanda's breath caught in her throat, her eyes widening in surprise and hope. She searched your gaze, her heart pounding with anticipation, trying to find any signs of regret or disapproval.

“Please tell me you’re saying what I think you’re saying,” she breathed, waiting for the response that would shape the path ahead. But as she looked into your eyes, she saw something that sparked joy within her.

You brought a second hand up to cup her face and leaned in to press your lips against her cheek. She closed her eyes at the contact, the soft kiss did well to erupt butterflies in her stomach. Wanda sighed and dropped her head to hide her face against your neck after you kissed her, her breath tickling your skin slightly as her grip around your waist grew tighter. The corners of her own lips curved up into a smile that she

couldn’t fight, a soft chuckle bubbling in her throat as she breathed you in.

“Do you really want this with me?”

“I love you,” you said, more certain than ever, watching as Wanda’s breath hitched at the sounds of your words. You smiled needily, entirely in love and filled with so many emotions you couldn’t contain them all at once. “I want everything with you.”

It was finally here—the moment when she could finally call you hers. Heart pounding, she reached her arms around you again keeping herself in your embrace and wanting to be as close as possible to you.

She hid her face again by tucking it into the side of your neck, nuzzling as close as she could, “I can’t stop smiling.”

Gently scratching the nape of Wanda’s neck to grab her attention, you urged her to bring her head back up. But the moment she did, you felt her lips press against yours. Her patience had worn thin, wanting to taste you after what felt like forever of not being close to you, not being able to touch you, hold you, or kiss you. Wanda sighed into the kiss, her hands sliding to the small of your back to pull you impossibly close to her while you let yours run through her hair. She moaned into your mouth when you tugged on it slightly.

Wanda smiled against your lips, thinking about all the ways she would love you, treasure you, unlike him. Her mind wandered in between the time she kissed you, the addicting taste of you on her tongue was making her feel weak in her knees. She found her hands slowly traveling down to your hips, then lower and lower, up until they rested on the lowest part of your back, her fingers bunching up the fabric of your dress.

“What are you doing?” You pulled back with a giggle, looking at her, acting innocently curious.

“Kissing you,” she said, dragging her lips along the skin under your jaw, kissing you softly there as you tilted your head to the side to give her more space. “Can I help you out of this dress? Please?”

You shuddered at the sound of her low voice, your hands gripping her shoulders like your life depended on it. You nodded, about to say yes, but Wanda was quick to put her mouth on yours the second you opened it, slipping her tongue past your lips.

The entire night she had to see your figure so beautifully displayed in this little black dress and ignore it. But it was damn near impossible now with you so close and moaning into her mouth. Wanda was at a loss for words. She just didn’t know how to say it. Everything was perfect now. You were perfect. The way the straps of your dress fell off your shoulders was perfect. The way you smelled and tasted. The way that Wanda could call you hers now, keep you all to herself.

And finally, her chest heaved only for a moment before she chose what to do and you closed your eyes and welcomed something you had long dreamed of.

— navigation!

#bellaveux writes!#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff fanfiction #wanda x reader #avengers x reader #elizabeth olsen #marvel x reader #marvel #elizabeth olsen x reader

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amphitriteswife · 3 months ago

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💛🧡Rejection🧡💛

Tagging: @praisethesuuun @mizz-sea-nymph @nicasdreamer @swallowtail-lotus

I know i made it male reader but feel free to see your oc sunny!😈

Apollo x male! Reader.

Apollo, god of the Sun, one of the 12 olympians and twin brother of the moon goddess herself, Artemis. That’s what he was most known for. Yet many forgot he was so much more than that. For example being the god of medicine, music, boys, knowledge and so much more. He was well loved among the ancient greeks. Often seen as the male beauty. In many of his famous tales Apollo falls in love with a man or woman, yet it always ends badly for them, causing Apollo to have them turned into flowers. Yet despite all the recognition, the glorious tales of him defeating the monster Python… he wasn’t always a saint.

Clutching your bow in one hand, you looked at the boar you just hunted. The boar was usually a symbol or offer to the lady Artemis herself. Once again, failing to have an offer for the god you worship. It was tiring and disappointing. Now it was a waste if you didn’t do anything with the now dead boar. Until the idea hit you that you might offer it to Artemis without entering her temple as only women or her priestesses are allowed to enter in. Walking in the direction of the temple you met one of the priestesses, giving her the boar and turning on your heel to go back to train with your bow, yet you couldn’t help but feel as if you were being followed. It was an uneasy feeling in your gut that told you to keep watching who was behind you. Ignoring the feeling but not the suspicion, you clutched your bow and narrowed your eyes. The sudden sound of leaves rattling made you alert as you quickly raised your bow, pulling out an arrow and aiming at the source of the sound, your hand pulling on the string before firing the arrow without missing a beat.

Steading your breath, you listing closely, hearing the sound of your arrow hitting something followed by a rather loud and dramatic ‘OW’ which made you a bit stunned before you hesitantly walked into the direction of where you shot your arrow. Moving some of the leaves and bushes you could finally see…a naked man in the lake? The sight was honestly a little baffling since most of the warriors were already back at the training camp, and not to mention the light shade of the pink hair which was a unusual color for human hair, walking closer you could see the little red liquid in the pond water, slowly getting thinner the more it stayed in the water. Following the trail of blood you could recognize seeing your own arrow in the right shoulder of the man. The man seemed confused as to why he suddenly got hit by an arrow. Your arrow. Guilt filled your being as you walked closer to the man, wanting to help him stop the bleeding yet when you were about to call him out he pulled out the arrow himself. His hand hovered over the cut before a yellow light surrounded the area where he ws hurt, the wound slowly closing under the dim light.

Suddenly, the man turned behind him. Staring at you wide eyed. He had hazel pupils, something that was rare, yet not unusual. You too stared back at him shocked. Who the hell was this man? Was it a magician? A witch? Should you tell someone? This can’t be real. This cannot be happening. ‘You look like you saw a ghost…well I’m even better.’ The man spoke to you, his hazel eyes focused on you. He had sharp features and a cocky arrogant smirk playing on his thin yet pink lips. He had a nice, lean yet muscular body and his voice was smooth and almost velvety…it made your head a little light and dizzy. ‘Are you feeling alright mortal? Can’t have you passing out on me?’ He told you in a hearty chuckling tone. He was suspicious. He must’ve done something to you. Your vision was a little clouded and your head felt heavy. ‘What have you done to me?’ You asked him placing one hand on your head. Massaging it a little. Your eyes focused on the suspicious man. The man Hmph-ed and scoffed. Closing his eyes, seemingly hurt and offended that he was accused of something like that.

‘I didn’t do anything, you idiot. Who do you take me for? That’s no way to talk your god!’ he said to you, crossing his arms and keeping his head high. How arrogant! And why is he claiming to be a god? That’s disrespectful! Claiming to be a god is highly disrespectful and insulting to your religion. ‘You can’t just claim you’re a god mister. It’s disrespectful.’ You told him carefully which made him scoff at you. ‘I’m no pretender! Seriously who do you take me for! It’s me! Apollo! Your lord! Your sweet, charming, loving, amazing sun god!’ Apollo told you proud fully, his strawberry pink like hair glistening in the waters. But he couldn’t help but chuckle when he looked at your flabbergasted face. His arms reached out to your body and he pulled you in the water with him. His hands on your broad shoulders while he looked you deep into your eyes, his face held a confident smirk and his hands soon began to make its way to your face, cupping it slightly. ‘Keep your god company, won’t you?’ Apollo asked you softly whispering in your ear. The sudden action once again made your head spin.

There was no denying that Apollo was attractive and charming….and seductive. But it was still highly Inappropriate to have something with the god you worship. Would you be allowed to go into the temple again? What if you end up like most of his lovers who have met unfortunate fates? Dying isn’t something you wanted…even if being with your god seemed like a dream. Would it really be a good choice to accept? Is that really what you want? So many questions yet so little answers. It made you dizzy and uncomfortable which cause you to take a fews steps back which made the god stunned. ‘I don’t know if that’s what i want...’ You told him slowly and carefully. You didn’t want to make quick and reckless decisions.. there was too much at stake. ‘I decline. I’m sorry my lord’ You told him carefully but firmly. Even if you loved your god, it was still platonic and admiration. Not romantic love like he hoped.

To not make the situation worse you walked out of the waters, apologized for the arrow and took your leave. Leaving Apollo, even if it was still hard to process in your state of disbelief that it was really him, alone in the waters who was confused himself. Apollo was never rejected by anyone, causing him to have a stir of mixed emotions. He was hurt that you didn’t feel for him. Yet also angry you had the audacity to reject him. Yet also admiration that you wanted to put yourself first. He himself felt strange, but he was a powerful and confidant being. And rejected won’t a final answer. After all. In Apollo’s myths he never took no for an answer either…

🌻Thank you for reading! 🌻

#apollo #apollo x reader #record of ragnarok #shuumatsu no valkyrie #snv #ror #ror apollo #snv apollo #ror apollo x reader #snv apollo x reader #male reader #record of ragnarok apollo #apollo snv #mxm fanfiction #mxm #male x male #apollon #gay #bi apollo

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sixosix · 11 months ago

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YOU MUST LIKE ME FOR ME | LYNEY

notes wc 3.5k, for readers keeping up with the updates as they come, it’s been a while since the last update! so for the sake of understanding this chapter, please reread the previous one !!

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You were starting to regret ever opening your mouth and letting Aether blackmail you into helping him. Maybe if you had insisted on cooking dinner and Rosalie took over the counter, none of this would’ve happened. But what’s happened has happened—and you have a feeling that you would’ve ended up here regardless because fate hated you.

Lyney emerges from the shadows, sliding into the spotlight as if he was born for it. Meant to be there in the middle of the stage with all eyes on him and nowhere else. He has his arms spread wide open, fully welcoming the elated whispers of the audience.

“Welcome, one and all, to Lyney and Lynette’s magic show!”

His voice echoes throughout the opera house, nearly drowned out by the roaring cheers that follow after. Lyney then grins, bowing with half of his body.

The way he moves across the stage—it’s hard to imagine it’s the same guy who stumbled over his steps to make you notice him. It seems like the roles have reversed. Now, the audience is watching each move with bated breath, on the edge of their seats, watching him.

“Please, let me also welcome my sister and my assistant, Lynette!”

Lynette steps onto the stage, her tail flicking at the noises. You swear you heard a kid whisper wildly to his mother that it was a part-cat human, maman! Why is Mr. Lyney not also one if they are siblings, maman?

Lyney may not have the ears and tail, but you remember the way his eyes followed you around like a cat tracking its prey, seconds away from pouncing. He resembled a cat more than Lynette at times.

“Hello,” Lynette says to the crowd and leaves it at that. The crowd loves it anyway.

Lyney grins. Something about it feels so different. He was cute as a kid, but now, with all teeth and sparkling eyes, he’s like a dream far out of reach.

“Are you okay?” Aether whispers. You almost jump out of your seat, breaking from the trance. “If you keep digging your nails in like that, you might rip the dress.”

“Ah.” You haven’t even realized. “Don’t worry about it. First-show jitters or something.”

“You’re not the one performing?”

“Or something.” you insist. Aether laughs under his breath and, thankfully, leaves it.

Back when you were at the House, Lyney could only do simple tricks. Plucking cards from his sleeves or hiding them in between his fingers. He was clumsy with making cards float, revealing doves from his hat, and producing flowers in a snap.

It seems to come from second nature for him this time. He flicks his hand, and a beautiful Lumidouce Bell materializes on his palm. Lyney throws it to the crowd; it lands by your feet.

“Wow, that was so cool!” Paimon gasps as you move to pick it up.

You remember now. This was the only flower Lyney used for his tricks, as they come in bundles when found. Often after dinner, Lyney would perform to practice for the other orphans, and it ended with a mess of these flowers scattered across the ground or left unattended by their beds after presenting it to them.

“Hold on,” Paimon says, “Is he looking at us? Did we miss something?”

Lyney is definitely looking in your direction. He has fallen silent, frowning. You start wishing that he is staring, not because he recognizes you but because you’re drop-dead gorgeous or something.

“Y/N?” Lyney says, his soft voice loud in the pin-drop silent auditorium.

Well.

“Mr. Lyney?” One of his assistants on stage asks. “What’s wrong?”

The crowd starts to murmur; then their fervent whispers grow in volume until everyone is talking loudly. Another accident? Mr. Lyney looks terrified! Aghast! Meanwhile, Lyney stays frozen in his spot; he doesn’t look like he’s breathing. It was the same look he gave you that night. Maybe his face hasn’t changed that much, after all.

“Lyney?” Lynette asks from the side of the stage, her face poking out. Then she follows his gaze, and her eyes widen as well. That’s when you knew—

“Shit,” you mutter, clutching the flower and springing up from your seat. You can’t have this happen while an audience is watching. That would totally ruin the whole point of laying low.

It was definitely not because you’re drop-dead gorgeous, but the fact that he still recognizes you has to mean something, right? Something that you don’t want to think about at the moment. You hurry to the exit, ignoring the dirty looks you get as you brush past.

“Did that girl do something?”

“Where are the gardes?! She must have done something to make Mr. Lyney chase after her’”

Seriously? You cast a glance, and Lyney’s scrambling down the stage, his assistants yelling after him and demanding for an explanation.

“Wait, no!” Lyney exclaims in response to the audience reluctantly getting up from their seats and reaching out to you. “Ah— Not to worry, everyone! I just have personal matters to attend to. Please, just stay—”

Idiot, you want to scream, it’s not so personal if you’re chasing after me in front of all of them!

The Melusine guarding the entrance seems oblivious to the ruckus inside. She blinks up at your haste and asks, “Is the show over?”

You say, “I have an emergency. Uhm—I, uh.”

Her face turns serious. She nods. “I see.”

“What— what are you thinking? it’s—” Your ears pick up on Lyney’s steps, and you wisely decide that it is not the time to save face. You give the Melusine a wave. “Thank you!”

You take a swift, sharp turn once you’ve reached the end of the stairs, stumbling into a dead end, and you don’t get very far.

You wonder if Aether and Paimon chased after you or if they’d pretend not to know you for the sake of the mission. If you die, you hope they would at least still pay you for compensation, and the money would go to Rosalie. Or maybe she would be enraged when she finds out you’re a Fatuus and doesn’t take it. Maybe your story of deceiving Rosalie would make her customers flourish, buying flowers to disguise the intent of asking about the liar residing in her home for years.

“Caught you,” Lyney whispers, his firm grip around your waist. The rushing water is noisy, but his voice is clear to your ears.

Hearing his voice up close is a problem. “Whoever you think I am, you’re mistaken!”

“Then why did you run?”

“You—” You had that look on your face I didn’t want to see again “—I forgot to lock my door. I don’t want my house to be robbed. Which might be occurring at this moment the longer you have me like this.”

Lyney laughs. It sounds like music that has haunted you for years—and with a new one playing, it’ll torment you for years more. He loosens his grip but keeps you caged in, still. You’re twirled around to face him, and something about his expression has you swallowing thickly.

“You’re even more stunning than I remember, ma chérie.”

Your face burns. “Thanks, but I don’t even know who you… ugh, stop looking at me like that…” Lyney’s smile, looking so fond, doesn’t falter in the slightest as if he expects that you would say that word for word.

“You think I’d mistake someone else for you? You’re the only one who runs from me like this,” he murmurs. His gaze feels heavy.

“Mr. Lyney,” you sigh and turn away. You can’t bring yourself to look him in the eye when he says shit like that. “Please. I didn’t show my face around anymore for a reason. A good reason.”

“I don’t trust your judgment to believe that.”

“Don’t talk as if you know me. We’ve been apart longer than we’ve been together.”

“Still, your words are as hurtful as ever,” Lyney says with a sad smile. You stiffen when he cups your cheek and touches you, his gloves rough on your skin. “You’re alive.”

You scowl. “Have you such little faith in me? How many times have I beaten you again?”

Lyney laughs again. Somehow, this is much worse than him killing you on sight.

Lynette appears in your line of sight from behind Lyney, with Aether and Paimon trailing after her. Her steps are slow. Aether has that expression on his face that says, don’t react!

Luckily, Lyney takes your hitch of breath as embarrassment at having witnesses. He tears away but promptly reaches for your wrist as if a leash for a dog. You tug, but nothing happens. For someone who looks so delicate, he has quite the strength.

“Hello, Traveler, Paimon,” he says pleasantly. “Sorry to interrupt your show.”

Aether shakes his head. “I just wondered if something went wrong.”

Does this not look wrong enough for him? You hurl him a blank stare.

Lyney follows Aether’s gaze and glowers. He jerks you to his side and stares at Aether pointedly. Aether looks at you, confused. You don’t know what the fuck is going on either.

“I didn’t know you were familiar with Y/N,” Lyney observes coldly.

“I don’t,” Aether says easily. “I came out here to see if you were okay.”

Still, Lyney doesn’t loosen his grip.

“Y/N,” Lynette says. She interrupts whatever dick-measuring contest is brewing with a small smile on her face. “You’re here.”

“I am,” you wheeze out, still trapped in Lyney’s arms. It’s a little difficult to be anywhere else with your current predicament.

Lynette clears her throat, giving her brother a look. You recognize that one—it’s the one she uses when Lyney is embarrassing her and would give him a stern word about it later. Lyney grumbles and sets you free.

“Traveler, I have something to say to you,” Lyney says, his chin high and his stare cool.

“Alright,” Aether says, brows furrowed. He casts you a glance that Lyney watches carefully. “Come on, Paimon.”

Lynette fixes your sleeves as the boys leave for somewhere more secluded. You follow them until their silhouettes disappear. “How have you been?” she asks.

“I’ve just been in the low, but I’m doing fine,” you say, feeling a little shy. Lynette has grown up as nicely as her brother. Her hair is tied up now; you remember that Lyney used to beg for Lynette to use the hairclips he’s bought, but Lynette insists she doesn’t like them. You offered her a hair tie that day. “It’s been really stressful and all that. Sorry to ruin your show.”

“Don’t worry about that. Or them. You’re here—that’s the most important thing on Lyney’s mind at the moment,” she says, and at the face you’re making, she adds: “And you can’t tell me I’m wrong. You know I’m not.”

“Haha.” You don’t know what to say to that.

Lynette hums. “Are you carrying out missions?”

You start thinking about the danger of confessing to present-fatuis that you are no longer one. As much as you trust them, you don’t trust they hold you to the same level. They have complete faith and loyalty towards The Knave, which you abandoned long ago. The orphans’ trust ran deep, and no one—not even you—could fuck with it.

You nod. “Yes, which is why I’ve been too busy. I’m— you see, I work for Lord Tartaglia now.”

Lynette looks stunned, speechless. Lyney has words to say, though, coming back at the perfect time. You take a peek at Aether, but it seems that he hasn’t followed Lyney back.

Lyney hurries to your side. “Master Childe? Is that why you’re here? We saw him around yesterday… Was it yesterday?” He turns to his sister, who nods.

Just your luck. Of all the Harbingers you thought of, it’s the one currently in Fontaine.

You’re losing confidence, and you hope it doesn’t show on your face. You used to look at the orphans in the House of the Hearth and think that you can beat them easily, without a sweat—right now, it feels as if they’re miles from your reach.

“Is this where Mr. Lyney went?” you hear from afar. “Perhaps they went back to the city!”

Lyney and Lynette’s faces turn exasperated. Lyney drags you further to the corner of the wall, and Lynette has her eyes peeled, scanning the path that leads here.

“Listen, I have to go. I can’t stay here for long.” They report everything to her; you know that well enough. “The— ‘Father’ already knows I’m here, so there’s no need to talk about me.”

Lyney stares at you for a moment too long. “Why?”

You wrack your head for something the twins wouldn’t be able to push. “I’m ashamed to see Father while I’m like this. After our fight, she had to transfer me. My pride and all that, you know?” You put on a timid expression. “Please don’t push.”

It works seamlessly. Lyney’s face falls. “Are you going to run from us again?”

“She might make me leave if she finds out I was talking to you.”

Lyney looks angry. “I’ll make sure she won't.”

“Don’t push,” you remind him softly. You’re a little stunned that he’s going this far. “I thought you hated me.”

“I could never hate you to the point of letting you slip from my grasp again.”

Hmm. That’s a strange way of phrasing it.

Before you can look into it anymore, Lyney takes your hand. “You said to me my loyalty is my worth. Well, by that logic, I’m nothing but valuable to you.”

“…Right,” you murmur, facing away from him and turning to Lynette for help, but she’s looking off to the side as well, still watching out for any gardes, yet her ears are pointed here. “I know that.”

“Y/N?” Lyney’s smiling when he forces your attention on him once more.

“Hm? What?” You need to look for Aether fast. Maybe tell him of the events that transpired and convince him that this was a terrible idea and Aether can arrest Lyney for all you care.

You do care. That’s the whole reason you’re doing this in the first place.

“I’m happy to see you,” he says.

“...I’ll see you around, Miss Lynette and Mr. Lyney.”

It wasn’t difficult to look for Aether and Paimon. You found them easily because you wanted to go there yourself: Hotel Debord.

Paimon’s wolfing down a plate of cake while Aether idly sips on his drink. Aether notices you first, waving you over. You find it strange that as soon as you pad over, Aether gestures to the stairs. You three climb up and find a place at the furthest table in the far corner.

“Lyney performs here sometimes, I heard,” Aether says as you settle in on a seat.

“Let’s hope he doesn’t strike this place with a surprise one while we’re on the most conspicuous seat,” you grumble. Paimon hands you her drink as comfort.

“I’d say that was a success,” Aether says, grinning. “Heartfelt reunion and rekindled feelings— I’ve never seen Lyney like that.”

“Like what?” Remembering Aether’s fixation on insisting on a blossoming relationship between you and the man you can’t even look in the eye, you immediately say, “Never mind. I don’t care. I ruined the plan.”

Aether laughs. “You didn’t, trust me. I learned something valuable today.”

You sip on the teacup. It’s Fonta, and it’s as unbearably sweet as the look in Lyney’s eyes as he talked to you. You’ve had enough of that for today.

“You can never hide it in your face when you care for someone,” Aether continues.

“You have that look on your face,” you say suspiciously. “Don’t tell me you’re also going to blackmail Lyney?”

“What? Of course not. That’s what I blackmailed you for.”

You snort. “And the Outlander reveals his true colors. You seriously still don’t believe me?”

“I still don’t have the information I want to have,” Aether reminds, stealing a piece of Paimon’s cake. She grumbles but doesn’t say anything else. She’s surprisingly compliant when there’s a plate before her. “That’s what you’re also here for, remember?”

“I don’t know, Aether,” you lament, sinking into your seat. “It feels like I made everything harder for me. “Do you still not trust them?”

“I think I blew it, too,” Aether laughs sheepishly. “I don’t think Lyney trusts me anymore.”

Paimon snorts, then quiets down when Aether shoots her a look.

“What did you and Lyney talk about?”

“It was a bit weird,” Aether confesses, then blushes at his drink. “I think Lyney was threatening me. He told me he saw me with someone by an alley.” At your confused look, Aether clarifies, “Doing something scandalous, I mean.”

You never thought Aether was the type, but that’s none of your business.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Aether sighs. “Of course I wasn’t up to anything of that sort. I’m still figuring out what he meant by that.”

“Maybe it’s a metaphor,” you say.

But Lyney doesn’t go lying about things like that. He may have a roundabout way of talking when he’s feeling playful, but ruining someone’s reputation is far too serious for that. And Aether never told you that Lyney was hostile around him—none of this just makes sense.

“All I remember was…” Aether’s gaze cuts down to your waist, and then he falls silent.

You frown. “Aether?”

Aether sighs. ��I blew it. It’s up to you now.”

“Do you still see them as a threat?” you ask.

“It’s not that I see them as a threat. It’s just that… if they’re an obstacle I have to overcome between me and my sister, then I will do what it takes.”

Of course, you’re still stuck handling a pair of identical siblings. You could never understand the bond between them, but you have to admit, it’s interesting to see two sides of twins. One still together and one apart.

“Oh, right. Hold on,” Aether mutters, swiping a hand in the air. You watch in fascination as a bag materializes on his lap. He draws out a letter. “Lyney wanted me to give this to you, too.”

You read the contents. Aether asks, “What is it? A love letter? Does it have hearts drawn on it?”

“Stop that,” you say. “It has an address, no hearts.”

Aether gasps. Even Paimon pauses from her feast. “An address,” they chorus.

“It says meet me tomorrow.”

Aether hums. “Maybe this isn’t turning out so bad.”

Lyney’s soft expression flashes in your mind—the flower, the arm around your waist, ma chérie— Seriously, who told him it was alright to go around seducing women like that? You groan, your face falling into your palms. You both blew it. Maybe Paimon has a better chance of retrieving information than either of you.

“You must’ve really liked the Fonta,” Aether says, gesturing to your empty cup. “Want another one?”

You don’t hesitate before saying yes.

The flower Lyney threw you has already wilted by the time you return to the flower shop. It’s past midnight, yet there is still a dim light washing over from outside. You spot Rosalie seated by the chair behind the counter, her posture straightening as the bell chimes.

“You’re back!” She grins, though her eyes look heavy and a little red. She must’ve been sleeping deeply.

“Rosalie,” you greet, a little fond, a little exasperated, “did you wait for me?”

“I told that Outlander boy to bring you home before ten,” she huffs, ambling over to you. She pats your dress and sighs dreamily. “Did you enjoy Mr. Lyney’s show?”

There was no show to begin with. “Yes. I did. It was splendid. Cut a bit too short, though.”

“Were you chosen as a participant?” she asks, hopeful.

“No,” you say, laughing a little. Although Mr. Lyney did chase after me. You wonder what kind of face Rosalie would make if you told her that. She wouldn’t be able to sleep if you did; you’re sparing her quite nicely.

Rosalie smiles. You like her smile; it’s all soft and fond, and she’s always smiling, leaving smile lines on her face. If you got caught earlier and she found out about your true past, would she still smile at you like that? “You should get some sleep. You look tired.”

“Yeah.”

“You’re so cute, mon ange. You look like you’re glowing!” Rosalie squeals, pulling you in for a hug that smothered your face on her neck. “You should go out more often!”

“Glowing?” Rosalie’s hug has your words come out all fucked up. “If anything, I’m drained— maman, your hair is getting on my mouth, please. And I still want to work here, okay? Don’t kick me out so suddenly.”

Rosalie’s frozen, her smile wiped off her face. You look up and blink at her curiously. “Rosalie?” you ask.

She stammers, “Oh—ah, it’s nothing. I just thought— Oh, you’re right. I’m tired, too. Don’t stay out so late next time if you don’t want my face having eyebags!”

As much as you hate to admit it, seeing Lyney and Lynette did feel a bit nice.

notes !!! new chapter yay :D lmk what u think !!

akagi back at it again with giving us bangers like its NOTHING. look at this scene of lyney recognizing reader in the audience!! the details... aughhh + THE EXTRA ART IS SO FUNNY

PLUS PLUS LOOK AT AKAGIS ART OF LITTLE LYNEY AND GROWN UP LYNEY AAAHHH

TAGLIST.

@thenyxsky @aeferkssr @1mewo1 @lacrimae-lotos @meigalaxy @hyacinth-daze @miwafei @popochakku @svasilios @heyhazelnut101 @kruinka @waveto-earth @superstar-ethereal @mxplesyrvp @achilleas-dream @episodecete @jellifizz @auranny @motherscrustytoenailclippings @iawaaaaaaa @rionah @cherryig @kzhwaif @mystiquemare @unknownlololol @sanluvssu @blvdmrcnry @kascar-chronicle @idontevenknow129 @tarathecogsci

#606: THAWED #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin x you #genshin impact x you #genshin impact #x reader #lyney x reader #lyney x you #lyney x y/n

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dzhukhe · 4 months ago

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Ranma ½ headcanons, in light of the upcoming new anime:

the thing about Ranma 1/2 as a manga is that each character mistakenly believes they are the protagonist of a different genre than the one they are in.

most of us recognize that Kunō believes he is the romantic protagonist of a jidaigeki or some other samurai drama, where those who oppose him are comic villains and he cuts a dashing figure, his morality defined by being the handsome samurai. In a cowboy movie, his character would have a white hat and teeth to match.

Kodachi, in turn, believes she is the heroine of a shojo manga, and will force this view on the world if she has to scatter the flowers herself.

those who have read far enough in the manga may recognize that Konatsu views herself (arguably justifiably) as the star of a Cinderella story.

perhaps less apparent is Ryōga's perspective on his life as a romantic tragedy. This is a young man who speaks of his own "heart of glass", whose fantasies are full of flowers and wide sparkling eyes. Estrogen would not fix him, but it couldn't hurt.

Mousse and Shampoo live as though they are the stars of more traditional romantic comedies; their uses of martial arts, poisons, magic, and other forms of violence are justified in the view of each one by their perspective that they are the Good Option.

I would argue that Shampoo even seems to see herself as her personal cultural equivalent to the "All-American Girl Next Door" character type; she works for a living but has conventionally beautiful features. If you were to compare them to Archie comics characters, Shampoo sees herself as the Betty; the only opponent she really seems to spend much time worrying about in the manga is Akane, who from Shampoo's perspective perhaps seems like a pampered daughter of wealth (look at the size of the Tendō property) who lacks traditionally feminine skills like cooking and murder.

Genma and Sōun are convinced they're in stories about filial piety, where they will be rewarded by their children being skillful, loyal, successful, and fitting ideals of masculinity and femininity while caring for them in their old age.

we don't see as much of Ukyō's perspective, but it's evident that she sees Ranma as a side character, the man she's going to marry in order to mind the home while she focuses on building her career as a cook.

Akane in the manga is maybe the most grounded in the reality of her world: she recognizes the martial arts anarchy around her, she calls out other characters on their delusions, and her big flaws in her self-image are less about genre and more of a conviction that she should be able to succeed at something just by trying really hard. If she's stuck in an idea, it's the notion that her life is an inspirational story of what you can achieve with raw effort alone...never mind things like following recipes or actually practicing sewing or swimming, Akane's ready to skip to the end of the training montage!

and Ranma?

what is Ranma's delusion about the nature of the story?

it's simple.

Ranma is convinced she's the male lead.

#ranma 1/2 #headcanons

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ljaylmaoo · 3 months ago

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Only Yours

hook x fem!reader

summary: you and hook have a relationship that everyone wishes they could experience and someone tries to break you two apart

genre: very angsty, also extremely fluffy

warnings: hook is really soft in this lol, hickeyss, arguments, there’s a kiss without consent in this, I think that’s it

a/n: hii! this is my FIRST post and one-shot that I wrote out of pure boredom lol. if there’s any typos sorry, I wrote this from 2 am to 7 am in one go lol. please let me know what you think after, AND PLEASE feel free to send requests! as I had a lot of fun writing this and would love to write more! hope you enjoy! thank you :)

word count: 3.6k

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

To say you were nervous was an understatement.

At the moment, you were doing the final touches of your makeup in anticipation of Castlecoming. You weren’t very fond of wearing a dress. Sure you loved fashion, but dresses? Most certainly not. But you promised Bridget that if she got Ella to wear a dress, you would too. You also wanted to surprise your boyfriend James who would never expect you to actually wear a gown such as this one. So there you stood, admiring your figure in the gold, arched, full length mirror that sat in the corner of your dorm after brushing on some highlighter on the highest part of your cheekbones and tip of your nose. You cursed at yourself for liking the way the gown looked on you.

“Wow..”

The sudden low whisper like voice from the left of you made you jump a bit then relaxed when you recognized the comforting voice of your boyfriend which instantly washed away the nerves you previously had. You glanced over your shoulder, a radiant smile that couldn’t be hidden even if you tried crept up as you caught the sight of your breathtakingly beautiful lover carrying a bouquet of your favourite flowers in one hand and a box with a bow that held a corsage that luckily matched your dress perfectly.

He slowly made his way up to you, taking in every detail of the rare sight that lied in front of him. He gently set down the box on your vanity, “Art has no depiction that’s fitting of your description. Even the most ignorant would applaud and long for my loves radiance.”

A soft blush washed over your cheeks, “says you, my pretty boy.” You giggle taking the flowers he presented to you with a bow and placed your arms around his neck with him pulling your waist close to him. James has always been a romantic. Every compliment he gives makes Shakespeare’s poems seem dull. Everyone in the academy ached to have your kind of love. And the girls were envious of how James showed his love for you. Always showing you off every chance he gets. He was proud to call you his. He also could never keep his hands off of you, always had to be touching you someway twenty four seven.

Though you two were infatuated with love for one another, there would be the odd argument that would leave you not talking for a day or two which was usually due to his mean and sometimes cruel words that he really didn’t mean. He was still a VK after all.

“Doesn’t my darling look ravishing today?” Was something he would ask the VKs daily as he watched from afar with googoo eyes while smiling like an idiot as you were laughing and talking with your friends, not taking his eyes off you once. Even if you were in a fight and not talking that day.

“Aren’t you guys in a fight?”

“Doesn’t make her any less breathtaking and heavenly to look at.”

These days were torture for him. He tried to be tough and not show how much he was suffering without you, but it never lasted long. By the time he finally breaks he comes knocking on your door with a teddy and “I’m sorry” flowers with him apologizing profusely almost leaving him in tears begging you to take him back explaining how lonely his bed is and how he missed being tangled up with you in your bed every night having the ability to hold you close to him as you drifted off to sleep, and of course you can never stay mad at him. Especially when he’s making himself look like a fool in front of others as they passed by not caring if they judged him by how pathetic he looked, his mind only being set on getting you back.

He was also very protective and possessive of you. If anyone was mean to you or dared try to lay a hand on you flirtatiously, he wasn’t afraid to handle them himself or he would aggressively yet still carefully grab your waist, sometimes with his hook, and kiss you in front of them before smirking at them and watched with satisfaction as they rolled their eyes and walked off. He’d also sometimes give you a few hickeys, making sure that they were as visible as possible. you both wore a necklace with each other’s initials engraved and a diamond heart.

He had also gifted you a beautiful promise ring for your one year anniversary and you’ve worn it ever since.

His favourite pastime was gazing at you while you did your schoolwork or as you slept in his arms. “My heart is so full of you, I can hardly call it my own.” Is just one of the many examples he would say whenever you got insecure and were in denial. He always made sure you knew his devotion to you was for eternity.

You were soulmates without a doubt. Twin flames.

He kissed you passionately, hungrily placing his soft plump lips on yours. You melted into his touch, smiling at his desperation to get as physically close to you as possible in anyway he could. You tried to pull away to catch your breath but he wouldn’t let you, “James” you laughed with his lips still attached to yours, lightly pushing him away at his chest.

He finally pulled away, “yes, love?” He smiled still staring at your lips, lovingly

“I could barely breathe” you laughed again, “I’m sorry darling, I just can’t ever get enough of you.” He shamelessly admitted. You both stayed close admiring each other’s features, leaving no room in between. His hands still firm on your lower back as you stroked his hair. His hair was probably your favourite feature of his. It was soft and always the perfect length, swept back.

“I love you so much.” you whispered looking into his eyes while fixing his collar and necklaces after messing it up a bit from the kiss

“Not as much as I do you, sweetheart.”

“I don’t think so” you replied knowing you always lose the ‘I love you more’ arguments. He laughed, “oh darling, we both know that’s not possible. My love for you will remain as infinite as the stars.” He said while caressing your cheek. You placed your hand on top of his and smiled shyly. He grabbed the box off of the vanity and took the corsage out, he gently took your hand and slid it onto your wrist then kissed your hand softly. “There you are my love.” He said while looking up at you. You had your hand on your chest, “oh my goodness! Thank you, it’s beautiful.” You said while looking at it in awe. He smiled, “of course darling.” He gave you a quick kiss and lead you to the door and opened it, “after you, gorgeous.”

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

You and James entered the ballroom together with your arm wrapped around his and hands intertwined looking around the huge decorated room. It was everything you’d imagined it would be. Everyone dressed up in breathtakingly beautiful suits and gowns scattered around the room mingling with their friends or dancing with their loved ones as music played in the background. James watched you in adoration, the amazement in your eyes made them sparkle along with the light glistening from the chandeliers above. The two of you got some glances from your peers of course as you were named ‘Best Couple’ in the yearbook and everyone adored your relationship for the most part. Among the people who were jealous, there was one girl in particular that absolutely despised your relationship. That girl goes by the name of Aria. (if your name is Aria I’M SORRY LMAO) She hated how happy you guys were especially of how loving James was towards you and hated how much people adored your relationship.

She was also James’ ex girlfriend.

They were together for eight months and broke up just five months before you both officially started dating. During those eight dreadful months, they were extremely toxic. They would get into pointless heated arguments on a daily basis at school, some even resulting in James earning a slap to the face, but then would be seen back together by the end of the day making out by the lockers or something. You knew of James beforehand because he was part of Uliana’s crew and also because you had to pass his locker almost everyday in order to get to class and that was usually where they would have their fights. He never paid any attention to you at first, but when Uliana began tormenting Bridget, you caught his eye. He’d constantly try to flirt with you and you would often find him to be staring at you whenever you weren’t looking. One thing led to another and after four months of his many attempts to try and get to you, you finally gave in and decided to give him a chance and a month later, it was made official. You don’t know what changed in him for him to treat you the complete opposite of how he treated Aria and she hated you for it though she couldn’t do anything about it because she knew what he and the VK’s would do if she did. So she always judged from afar, only doing as much as giving you a glare everytime you made eye contact. She wanted to try and sabotage your relationship the night of Castlecoming and break the two of you up, so she came with a plan.

Aria was with her friends when one of them spoke up, “woah, they look grossly fabulous tonight..” she turned and her jaw dropped instantly when she saw the two of you on the other side of the room talking to Uliana and the rest of the group, James spinning you around to show off your gown. She boiled with rage and turned back to her friends, “yeah, we are definitely going to break them up tonight.”

As James was talking with Morgie, you spotted your friends Bridget and Ella so you lightly tapped his shoulder and leaned in to whisper making sure Uliana didn’t notice as she was currently talking with Maleficent beside you, “I’m going to go say hi to Bridget and Ella, okay?” He looked down at you and kissed gave you a quick kiss, “okay, love.” You gave one more kiss on the cheek before heading off towards your friends.

Bridget squealed with excitement as she saw you approaching them, “oh my gosh! Y/n?! You look amazing!” She came up and pulled you into a hug, squeezing tightly to express how proud she was. “I know, I know” you jokingly said after she let go while blushing a bit. You smiled and hugged Ella, “wow I didn’t actually think I’d see you in a dress, like ever.” Ella gave a small smile and laughed, “I could say the same to you.” You scoffed, “well of course I did. We wouldn’t wanna disappoint our girl here now, would we?” You said while patting Bridget on the shoulder who was bursting with excitement jumping up and down while clapping her hands, “okay we need! To take pictures, come on!” She insisted before pulling you both over to the Photo Booth.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

It was later into the night and you were dancing with James, Ella had to go home due to her strict curfew her stepmother gave her, and Bridget went back to her dorm to let you and James have some time together. Aria and her friends watched you with rage as you were gazing into each other’s eyes lovingly, waiting for the perfect moment to begin her plan. He spun you around as the song ended and kissed your hand before leading you off the dance floor, “could I get you another drink, my love?” He questioned, “yeah, sure. I’ll be over there I just have to go to the bathroom quick.” He nodded and the two of you went your separate ways.

Aria smirked at her friends as the first part of her plan had come. She slyly walked off to the fruit punch table and stood in front of it waiting for James to walk up. “Hi James.” She said suspiciously sweet, he only rolled his eyes and scoffed, “what do you want? Can you move, please?” Aria gave a fake pout, “what? All I did was say hi.” She said innocently, “oh did you want some punch? I’ll get them for you.” She turned and grabbed two cups, “two right? One for you and one for your little girlfriend?” James had his arms crossed and stood impatiently, looking away from her, “yup.” Aria giggled and poured the first one, “here’s yours” she smiled before turning to pour the other. James took a sip of the drink while he waited.

A few moments later, you finished touching up your make up after washing your hands in the bathroom and walked out towards the punch table but you stopped in your tracks. There, in front of the punch table was Aria who had forcefully pulled James into an unexpected kiss. Your heart shattered at the sight. You made eye contact with James who had a shocked and angry expression that you couldn’t see. Your eyes welled up with tears before you ran out of the ballroom. James pushed Aria off him, “get off of me! What the hell, Aria?” He scolded before shoving the punch into her hands and ran after you. She watched him run after you with a smirk taking a sip in satisfaction.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

You came bursting into your room as you cried, slipping off your heels and taking the accessories out of your hair and throwing them onto the vanity followed by your earrings and necklace. You ripped the corsage off your wrist and threw it into the trash can beside you. You studied yourself in the mirror, hating yourself for deciding to wear a gown only to surprise the one you thought loved you most only for them to humiliate you and look like a fool. You went and sat down on your bed as you cried into your hands. James came into the dorm in a panic causing you to jump, “Love, I can explain!” You furrowed your eyebrows in anger while looking at him in disgust, “no! I don’t want to hear it, James!”

“No, no, no, really darling! It wasn’t what it looked-“ you got up from the bed, “Oh yeah? Cause it looked like my boyfriend was kissing his ex girlfriend by the punch table!”

“Well yes but-“

“Do you still have feelings for her, James?” You yelled as you walked closer, “were you only using me to get back at her? Did you even love me?!” He was stuttering as he tried to answer every question you threw at him, “what? No! Of course I do!” He tried but you continued to yell at him, causing him to get angry and the screaming match began. It never ever got this bad before. If the dance wasn’t still going on, everyone would for sure be able to hear every insulting and harsh words you were throwing at each other. There were hot tears streaming down your faces as you continued. But as bad as it was, and as much as you wanted to, neither of you had the willpower to officially call the relationship off. You loved each other too much to do so and you both knew that.

You took the flowers he gave you earlier off your desk and harshly shoved them into his chest, “Get out! I don’t want you here! Leave!” You pushed him out the door and slammed it in his face. You took a deep breath and turned around, and started towards your bed. You didn’t know what to think or how to feel. You knew what he was saying made sense and knew he loved you far too much to ever do something to hurt you. But you don’t know why you kept going at him.

You sat down and stared down at the floor, your mind so lost in deep thought that you didn’t even realize you had changed out of your dress and into your pyjamas. You looked down at the shirt you’d just finished putting on and sighed, it was his shirt. You shut your lamp off and lied down on your bed and stared up at the ceiling as the thoughts in your head continued to flow. Why was he with Aria in the first place for that to happen? He shouldn’t have let that happen. But after a while you felt really bad for what you had said to him and the names you called him. But was he mad at you now too? You heard something that was slid under the crack of your door, you sat up and looked at the little piece of paper that was on the floor. You turned your lamp back on and slowly walked over and picked it up. You opened the paper, “My Beautiful Darling Y/n, no matter how much we fight, the love I have for you will never fade. You will never be unloved by me for you are far too well tangled in my soul. The only feeling stronger than my love for you is the ache that comes with missing you. I’m so very sorry I let this happen, My Love.” You wiped a tear from your cheek as you finished reading. You set the note down on your nightstand and lied back down on your bed.

You tried to fall asleep but you just couldn’t. You missed the feeling of being secured and safe in his arms while he whispered sweet nothings as you drifted off to sleep. Your bed felt cold. Lonely.

After a few more minutes of attempting to force yourself to sleep, you got up and crept out of your room and down the stairs and proceeded down another long hallway before stopping in front of an all too familiar door. You stared at it, contemplating whether or not it was a good idea. But before you could make a decision, you were already making your way inside the dark room. You quietly walked towards the bed, softly and carefully getting under the covers making sure not to wake him. The warmth and familiarity of his body heat made you feel at ease. You looked over at his sleeping figure who was facing towards you and traced his features with your eyes, admiring everything about him and couldn’t help but smile. You really did love this boy with all your heart.

You turned away from him and sighed before closing your eyes to sleep, but just as you were drifting off, you felt an arm snake around your figure, pulling you close. You smiled and melted into his body as you felt the warmth of him engulf your backside, placing your hand on top of his that was placed above your stomach under your shirt. Well, his shirt. He pulled you closer and you felt him softly stroking your hair. Though it has only been a few hours since you’ve felt his touch, it felt like forever. You turned in his arms to face him and wrapped your arms around him scrunching the fabric of his shirt tightly in your hands while burying your face deep into his chest, he had managed to somehow pull you closer though it was physically impossible already.

“I’m sorry.” He heard your soft voice cry, muffled from being buried in his chest. He shook his head and stroked your head, “shh, no, no, no. Don’t apologize. You did nothing wrong, my love.” You let out a quiet sob which was terribly agonizing for him to hear. He looked down and placed his hand on your cheek, bringing your gaze up to his. You looked into his eyes with a pitiful gaze, he saw how broken you looked. The moonlight that seeped in through the window above his bed glistening off your tearful eyes. “Don’t cry, love..” he tried but you rambled on, spilling everything your heart was feeling at that moment causing the pieces of his already broken heart shatter into a million more pieces. He stared at you not knowing what to say after you were done, only pulling you into a deep kiss, more passionate than ever letting his body do the talking without saying any words, pulling your waist close to his. He left sloppy kisses down to your neck, lightly gracing the sensitive skin with his teeth making you gasp in pleasure and gently pull at his hair before he continued to leave his mark with a smile while telling you how beautiful you were and how much he loved you.

This continued until both your neck and chest were covered with love bites. He trailed kisses back up and kissed you once more. He broke the kiss, breathing heavily while looking into your lustful, heavy lidded eyes that were threatening to shut and noticed as your breathing slowed. He pulled you back in and you cuddled back into his chest, “I love you.” You whispered, trailing off as you began to fall into a deep, well needed slumber.

“I love you too, Darling.” He whispered, leaving a delicate kiss on your forehead and rested his head on yours as you both drifted off to sleep.

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