#i wish i had some time to take care of this. to approach my brain like a skittish horse and go hey babe what spooked you so bad

[varjopeura]

.

[sosa2imagines]

My doll...

Disclaimer- Something my pervert brain thought about, I hope you all enjoy. Warning- Soft dark Bucky, smut, possessiveness, jealousy, 5.3k words.

Bucky Barnes had always been a man of few words. A soldier by nature, a soldier by habit. But it was something about you that had always made him feel like he was at a crossroads with himself, like his life could go one way or another depending on whether or not he could ever find the courage to speak up.

The first time he realized he was in love with you, it wasn’t a dramatic moment. There were no bells, no grand gestures. It wasn’t like he had a clear, defining thought of this is it. It was quieter than that. He was sitting next to you in the Avengers’ compound, watching you work on some new project you had thrown yourself into, fingers deftly moving over wires and circuits. Your brow furrowed in concentration, lips parted in that way that made him want to reach out and touch you.

He never had before, of course he was too afraid of ruining the friendship, too afraid of making things weird.

And that was how it had always been. Quiet. Unspoken.

But even with those feelings slowly building, Bucky stayed quiet. He watched you from the edges, from the safety of his distance, telling himself that if you ever really loved him, you’d say it first. He couldn’t risk the possibility of losing you altogether. So, he waited. And waited. And waited.

Tonight, was supposed to be like any other. A rare night off from their duties. No mission on the horizon, no danger lurking around every corner. The team wasn’t together, except for you. You suggested going to a bar nearby for a drink and a break from the constant grind of life in the compound. Bucky had decided, almost reluctantly, to say yes.

Bucky had, of course, known you cared. In all the small moments, like how you would always check in on him, ask him about his dreams or how he was really feeling. And the way your eyes lingered on him when you thought he wasn’t looking.

I know you love me, he thought. I know it.

But Bucky never had the nerve to say it out loud. And now, here he was, sitting across from you at the bar, staring into his glass of whiskey, wishing he could just reach out and touch your hand without the world falling apart around him.

He was far too aware of how close you were, and yet how far away you still seemed.

You were laughing, your voice light and full of life. You always seemed to shine brighter when you were in this mood, the weight of the world lifted, even if only for a moment. But Bucky could see the flickers of doubt in your eyes. Could see the way you kept looking over at him, waiting for something.

Maybe tonight was the night you’d say it. Maybe tonight you’d do what Bucky couldn’t bring himself to do.

But as he watched you, a strange feeling began to take hold. A spark of jealousy. It was a ridiculous thing, he knew. But it wasn’t about you. It wasn’t about the way you looked at other people—it was about the way you looked at him and didn’t say anything. Didn’t do anything.

It was then that a woman approached him.

Bucky didn’t want to be rude. He’d never been the type to just turn someone down, but when the woman slid onto the seat next to him, her eyes lighting up at the sight of him, he didn’t feel the usual discomfort. Instead, he felt an odd sense of power and control, maybe.

She was bold, confident. The way she laughed, the way she touched his arm, the way she spoke to him, it all felt like a challenge. A test. And before he could stop himself, he realized something. He wasn’t afraid of this woman. He wasn’t uncomfortable.

But you were.

He saw the way you stiffened in your seat, the way your smile faltered. You hadn’t said a word, but Bucky could tell, he knew. You were jealous.

And for some reason, that made his heart pound. A dark thought crept into his mind, ‘Maybe this is how it’ll happen. Maybe I can make you admit it. Maybe I can get you to finally say what we both know is true.’

The woman leaned in closer, her fingers brushing his. Her breath was warm against his ear as she whispered, “So, what do you say? Care to dance?”

Bucky glanced at you once more. You were still staring at him, but now, there was a mix of frustration and hurt in your eyes. His breath caught in his throat. He should stop this. He should turn away. But a dangerous impulse surged through him.

“Sure.” he said, standing up without another word, letting the woman take his hand and pull him toward the dance floor.

He could hear your breath hitch from across the room. He could feel your gaze burning and intense. But he didn’t break. Not yet.

They moved in close as the music shifted, her body pressed against his. It was all a game now, a game Bucky wasn’t sure he wanted to play but couldn’t help himself from continuing. Every move he made, every gesture, was designed to make you feel something. To make you feel what he had felt for so long ‘the ache.’ The longing. The desperate desire for something more.

But as they danced, his thoughts were on you. Only you. And all the ways he had hurt you without ever realizing it.

You were standing now, getting your things, heading for the door. And Bucky’s chest clenched as he realized something. He couldn’t let you go. Not like this. Not anymore.

“We are done!” he said to the woman, his voice sharp as he brushed past her, heading toward you.

The cool night air hit him as he caught up to you just outside the bar.

“Doll, wait,” he said, his voice catching in his throat. “Where are you going?”

You didn’t turn around, didn’t even slow down. “I’m going back to the compound, Bucky. I’m done.” Your voice was quiet, but it was laced with finality. “I’m done pretending. Done watching you with her.”

“I’m going back to the compound,” you repeated, your voice a little too calm, too controlled. “I need to clear my head. I think I’ll go check in with Steve.”

The moment the words left your mouth, you felt the shift in the air. Bucky froze.

You hadn’t expected it, Bucky was always so controlled, so guarded. But there was something in his eyes now. Something darker. The breath you’d taken in to steady yourself suddenly caught in your throat.

“Steve?” Bucky’s voice was low, tight with barely contained emotion. His grip on your wrist tightened, and you could see his jaw clench, the muscles beneath his skin rippling with barely restrained anger. “You’re going back to Steve?”

You nodded slowly, avoiding his gaze. You had no idea why, but you couldn’t meet his eyes right now. Maybe it was because you could feel his anger building, and it made you uneasy.

“Yeah,” you said, trying to sound indifferent, but even to your own ears, the words felt hollow. “I’ll be fine, Bucky. I just need some space.”

You tried to pull away, but his grip on your wrist tightened, pulling you back toward him. His eyes locked onto yours, and there was something in the depths of his gaze something primal that made your breath catch.

“Don’t lie to me,” he growled, his voice rough, his tone clipped. “You’re not going back to Steve. Never ever!”

His hand moved to your other wrist, and before you could protest, he spun you around, backing you up against the cold brick wall of the alley. You gasped at the suddenness of it, the sharp heat of his body pressing against you. The force of it left you breathless, but it wasn’t just the physical contact that left you feeling winded, it was the storm swirling in Bucky’s eyes.

“I don’t care about your games, doll,” Bucky continued, his voice now a dangerous whisper. “I don’t care if you’re trying to protect yourself or play it safe. You don’t get to walk away from this. Not after all these months. Not after I’ll final say what I should’ve said the first goddamn time I saw you.”

Your heart hammered in your chest as Bucky’s breath came faster now, his face inches from yours. You could feel the heat radiating off him, the anger and frustration practically crackling in the air between you. His hand was on the wall next to your head, caging you in, his body pressing into yours like he was trying to hold you there, to make you listen.

“Don’t you dare go back to Steve!” he snarled. “I know what you’re trying to do. I know what you’re hiding from. But don’t you dare tell me you’re choosing him. Not when we both know what’s between us.”

Your stomach twisted at his words, a jolt of panic rising up in your chest. You had to get away from him, from this. But somehow, the words felt wrong. He was right. Something had shifted tonight, everything had shifted tonight. And the more you tried to run from it, the more you realized that you were just as tangled up in it as he was.

You shook your head, trying to pull away from his grip. “Bucky, stop. Just stop.”

But he didn’t. His hand moved from the wall to your face, cupping your jaw with surprising gentleness. His thumb stroked over your skin, the touch almost tender despite the fury that was still burning in his eyes. It was like he was trying to hold on to you, trying to keep you from slipping away.

“I’ve spent months pretending I didn’t want you,” Bucky muttered, his voice low and raw. “I’ve spent months watching you with him, keeping my distance, telling myself it was enough just being close to you, just being around you. But it’s never been enough, Doll. It’s never been enough, and I can’t do it anymore.”

“I love you, Y/N. I’ve always loved you.”

Your breath caught in your throat. For a moment, neither of you moved. The world stood still.

You swallowed hard, fighting the surge of emotions that were building inside you, fighting the tears threatening to break free. You had never seen Bucky like this so raw, so vulnerable, so… angry. It terrified you, but in a way, it also made you realize just how deeply he cared for you. How much he had always cared for you.

His grip on your face tightened, but there was no anger in his eyes now, only something softer, something that made your heart beat even faster. “I don’t want to claim you, Doll. I want to have you. I want you to choose me.”

Before you could respond, Bucky’s lips crashed into yours again, desperate and urgent. It was no longer a question, no longer a plea. It was an answer. His hands slid to your back, pulling you into him with such force that you could feel his heart racing against yours.

The kiss was everything every unspoken word, every hidden desire, every emotion they had both kept buried for so long. Bucky was done hiding, done pretending, and as you kissed him back with equal fervor, you knew there was no going back from this.

“Don’t go back to him,” Bucky whispered against your lips, his voice thick with need. “I’m not letting you go.”

You didn’t know what to say. The words felt like they were stuck in your throat. You had always thought you’d have time to figure this out, but now that the truth was out there between you, out there between him, you knew that there was no more time for pretending. No more time for games.

You pressed closer to him, your hands threading through his hair as you kissed him again, and in that moment, you realized there was only one thing that truly mattered.

Bucky dragged you in the room at the backside of the bar.

Without warning, he pins you against the wall, his body pressing against yours. His hands cup your face, holding your gaze captive.

He presses himself closer, one thigh between your legs. His hands move from your face to your hips, gripping them firmly. His lips graze your ear as he speaks, his voice a low grumble. “I'm going to show you exactly how much I want you, right here, right now.”

His mouth closes on your neck, kissing and nipping at the sensitive skin. You feel his fingers slipping under the hem of your tee, tracing a path of fire along your waist. “I've wanted you for so long, you have no idea. Watching you, smelling your scent, feeling your touch... it's been driving me crazy.”

His lips move down the column of your throat, leaving a trail of hot kisses along the way. One of his hands moves up to cup your breast, his thumb gently circling your nipple through the thin fabric of your bra.

You let out a gasp, arching into his touch. Your body is responding to his every move, awakening a need you've kept buried for far too long. Bucky smiles against your skin, enjoying the way he's unraveling you piece by piece.

“You like that, don't you? Feeling my hands on you, my mouth on your skin.” He whispers in your ear before capturing your earlobe between his teeth, biting down just hard enough to send a shiver down your spine.

His other hand slides under your skirt, trailing up your thigh, his touch leaving a trail of fire in its wake.

Your breath hitches, your legs growing weak as Bucky's touch becomes more and more brazen.

He chuckles lowly, satisfied to see you coming undone under his hands. “You're so responsive... so sensitive. I love seeing you like this, completely at my mercy.”

He spins you around, pressing your front against the wall. You feel his weight press into your back, his hands roaming everywhere, claiming you as his own.

“I'm going to make you mine, here and now. There's no stopping this, no denying what's been boiling between us for so damn long.”

His lips find the nape of your neck, kissing and sucking on the soft skin. His free hand slides down your stomach, resting just at the waistband of your panties. The contact is almost too much, your mind reeling from the barrage of sensations.

“I want you so badly... Can I have you? Right here, right now?” He asks, his voice a deep, raspy whisper. He's poised on the edge, waiting for your answer, his body tense with anticipation.

You can't find the words to speak, too overwhelmed by the storm of emotions and sensations he's stirring within you. Instead, you respond by arching your back, pressing yourself against him, wordlessly signaling your consent.

Bucky lets out a guttural growl, the sound filling the air. He doesn't need anything more than that. His hands move with newfound urgency, peeling away the layers of fabric separating you from him.

He turns you around, his expression darkened with desire. He looks at you hungrily, taking in every inch of your exposed skin. His hands run up your sides, tracing the curves of your body, committing every detail to memory.

“You're so beautiful... So goddamn perfect.” His words are punctuated by small, lingering kisses along your collarbone, across your chest, down along your stomach. You're lost in the sensation, your body on fire under his touch.

He sinks to his knees in front of you, his lips continuing their exploration of your body. He kisses and nips at the tender skin of your inner thighs, teasing and tantalizing you with every touch.

“I want to taste you... I need to taste you...” He husks, his hands wrapping around your hips, pulling you closer. You can feel his breath on your core, hot and eager, making you shiver in anticipation.

His tongue darts out, tasting you lightly, just enough to send a rush of pleasure through you. You gasp, your fingers threading into his hair, holding him close. Bucky smiles against your flesh, enjoying how responsive you are to his ministrations.

He alternates between soft, almost chaste kisses and more firm, calculated licks. He's enjoying the taste of you, the sounds of your moans and gasps. His hands grip your thighs, holding you firm while his mouth works magic, making you moan obscenely.

“You taste so good... Better than I ever imagined.” He lifts his gaze, meeting your eyes. The raw hunger in his expression takes your breath away.

You want to speak, but your mind is a jumbles mess, unable to form a coherent word.

“You're driving me crazy, doll. I want to devour you, to make you mine in every way possible.”

And then he does. He dives in, his mouth devouring you in a frenzy of passion determined to bring you closer to the edge.

Your gasps turn into cries of pleasure, your body writhing under his skilful mouth.  Bucky's hands grip your hips, holding you steady as he brings you closer to your climax.

The world seems to spin around you, your senses overwhelmed by the pleasure Bucky is giving you. He's relentless, pushing you higher and higher, determined to give you more than you ever dreamed of.

His tongue works relentlessly, applying just the right amount of pressure to drive you wild. Your fingers dig into his shoulders, nails biting into his flesh, anchoring you on the ground.

Just as your were about to come, Bucky suddenly pulls away, his breath ragged, his eyes dark with desire. He climbs to his feet, pinning you against the wall once again

“I need to be inside you... Now.”

He's barely able to get the words out, his voice thick with need. He captures your mouth in a fierce kiss, his hands already pushing your skirt up around your waist.

His body presses against yours, the hard length of him rubbing against your core. You can feel the heat and strength of him, the evidence of his desire poking you.

“I need you, need this... I need you now..” He repeats the words like a mantra, his lips trailing along your jaw, your neck, your ear.

He pulls you around, turning you to face the wall once again. You feel the cool surface against your skin, a stark contrast to the heat of his body behind you.

“I'm not going to be gentle.” He warns, his hands gripping your hips, pulling them back against him.

You feel him against you, hard and eager, his breath coming in ragged gasps. His hips move against yours, and you can feel just how much he wants you, how badly he needs you.

“Can you take it? Can you handle me like this?” He asks, one hand traveling up your spine, his fingers tracing the line of your vertebrae. His touch is demanding, possessive, but somehow still tender, as if he's afraid he'll hurt you.

You manage to nod, too far gone with pleasure to form words. Bucky lets out a low, satisfied sound, his mouth nipping at your shoulder as his hand slides around to your front.

He cups your breast, his thumb grazing over your nipple, teasing and provoking.

“I'm going to take you, right here, just like this.” He growls, his hips pressing against yours.

You can feel him against you, his body poised and ready, the tip of his cock, teasing your entrance. “Are you ready for me?” He asks, his lips against your ear, his breath hot and urgent.

You can only manage a small, breathless moan in response, your body yearning for him to take you, to make you his own.

“I need to hear you say it. Tell me you want me... That you need me...” His words are a needy, almost desperate plea, his self-control hanging by a thread.

You find your voice, forcing the words out despite the overwhelming pleasure coursing through you. “I want you... I need you... Please...”

“That's all I needed to hear.” The words are a rough, guttural grunt, the last vestiges of his restraint snapping. He positions himself behind you, the head of him rubbing against your entrance.

His hands grip your hips again, holding you in place. He's so close, so very close... But still, he waits, wanting to make sure you're ready for the next step.

“Just tell me if it's too much, okay? If I go too far, I want to know.” He whispers the words, his voice betraying a hint of vulnerability, a hint of doubt, despite the powerful, animalistic way he's holding you.

You nod, your body thrumming with anticipation. You trust him, trust him not to hurt you, and that trust makes all the difference. You push back against him, signaling your readiness in the most primal way possible.

He lets out a low, gravelly moan, his body trembling with the effort of holding back. He needs this as much as you do, maybe even more. “God, I can't wait any longer...”

He pushes forward, slowly, carefully. He's being as gentle as he can be, wanting to give you time to adjust to the intrusion. But it's torture for him, the heat, the tightness, the way you're clenching and squeezing him, enveloping him in a way he's never felt before.

“You're so damn tight... So perfect...” He groans the words, his body moving involuntarily, the pleasure too much to resist. His hands grip your hips tighter, his mouth trailing kisses along your back, your shoulders, your neck. He can't get enough of you, his body moving in a rhythm that's old as time itself.

“You feel so good. I never knew it could be like this.” He mutters the words against your skin, his voice thick with ecstasy.

He picks up the pace, his body moving more urgently now, following the pull of pleasure that's driving him onward. His hands are everywhere, caressing and touching, worshiping every inch of you like a man possessed.

“I could stay inside you forever. I never want to let you go.” He murmurs the words into your ear, his voice ragged and broken. He's lost in the moment, in the pleasure, in you.

You reach a hand back, tangling your fingers into his hair, holding onto him like an anchor in the storm. All the rights and wrongs, thrown out of the window.

“Don't let go... Don't ever let go.” He whispers, his lips finding your neck, the skin there already tender from his earlier attentions. His movements become rougher, more frenzied, as if he's desperate to get even closer to you, to merge himself with you in every way possible.

“I need you... I need you so damn much...” The words are a broken chant, gasped into your ear, his breath hot and ragged against your skin.

He's moving even faster now, the sounds of skin slapping against skin filling the air, the only break in the silence apart from your moans and gasps. The pleasure is building, growing stronger and stronger with every thrust, threatening to consume you both. You can feel yourself close to the edge, teetering on the very precipice of ecstasy. Bucky knows it too, he can sense it, sense the mounting tension in your body.

“You're close... I can feel it. I'm so close...” He growls the words, his voice tight with the effort to hold back, to keep control for just a little while longer.

“I want to hear you say it... I want you to let go... Tell me you're mine.” His voice is harsh and ragged, his body trembling with the effort of holding back his release.

You struggle to find the words, to form a coherent thought amidst the haze of pleasure. “Y-yours.. I'm... Yours...”

The words send a wave of pleasure through Bucky, his hips twitching involuntarily at the sound of your surrender. “Say it again... I need to hear it again…”

“Yours... I'm yours, Bucky... All yours...” You gasp the words, your voice quivering with the force of your ecstasy.

That's all it takes. Your surrender, your declaration of ownership, it breaks the dam that's been holding him back. “Mine... You're mine... All mine...” He repeats the words like a mantra, his body moving with a new fervor, a new intensity.

“Steve won’t take care of you like I can.” He thrust, “All I have to do is…” he hits you with another powerful thrust, messing up with your senses. “Make a sad face and remind him of my past!” He hits another powerful thrust, and the voice you make is between a cry and a moan. “He will happily give you to me!”

He buries his face in your neck, his lips finding that sensitive spot just below your ear. When he speaks again, his voice is a possessive, guttural growl, thick with desire. “And don't you ever forget it.”

His lips find yours again, claiming your mouth in a kiss that's hard and demanding. He's drowning in you, in this moment, the world around you reduced to nothing but the heat and the friction and the pleasure.

He's close, so close, but he won't give in, won't let go until he's brought you to your release, until he's given you everything he can give.

“Come for me, doll... Let go... Give yourself to me... I want to feel it, feel you...” His words are a rough, ragged plea, a demand made out of pure need. He's holding back, waiting for you to reach your peak, his body taut and trembling with the effort to hold back his own pleasure.

You can feel yourself teetering on the edge, balanced between light and dark, pleasure and pain, sanity and madness.

“Let go... Just let go... I've got you...” The words, the promise, they're enough to push you over the edge. You shatter, your body arching against his, a cry of ecstasy tears from your lungs. The world spins around you, your release crashing through you like a tsunami, leaving you breathless and trembling.

Bucky's there, holding you against him, his arms wrapping around, holding you up, keeping you from collapse. He's still hard inside you, so close to his own climax.

“God, you're so perfect... I've never experienced anything like this before...” His voice is gruff and broken, his breath hot against your neck as he pulls you flush against him. He lets out a low, guttural moan, his body trembling with need and restraint. “I need you.... I need to let go... you will let me come in you, won’t you? You will be a good girl for me, right doll?”

You nod, your body still thrumming with pleasure as you push back against him, signaling your absent-minded consent.

“You're going to be the death of me, woman...” His words are a rough whisper, a promise and a threat all at once. His grip tightens around you, his body tense and coiled like a spring. “Just a little more... just a little longer... I need to give you everything...”

He buries his face in your hair, his breath coming in jagged pants now, his body taut and trembling with the effort to hold back just a little longer.

“Almost there.... almost... I'm so close...” The words are a ragged gasp.

He let out a low, guttural groan, his body tensing against yours, his arms pulling you tight against him. “God, I... I can't... I'm...” he doesn't finish the sentence. Instead, he buries his face in your hair, muffling his moan against your shoulder as his body tightens and spasms, his release washing over him like a tide, powerful and consuming.

He holds you close as he comes down, his body trembling with the aftershocks, his breath warm against your skin. “God... that was... incredible...” The words are a rough whisper, his voice thick with emotion. He presses a tender kiss to your shoulder, his lips lingering against your skin, as if he can't bear to let you go for even a moment.

He tightens his arms around you, pulling you flush against him, as if he can't bear to have you any further than an inch away from him. “You're amazing, you know that?”

He nuzzles your neck, his lips leaving tender kisses along the sensitive skin there. He's so gentle, so different from the rough, desperate man who'd been consumed by need a few moments ago. As he sees his release dripping from between your legs, his eyes darken, making him feel more possessive about you.

“Mine...” He mutters the word against your skin, his voice thick with possessiveness. He knows it's probably a bit irrational, but he can't help it. He needs to express his claim over you, his desire to protect and own you in every way imaginable.

He then moves his fingers on your thigh, collecting some of his release on his fingers, bringing them closer to your mouth, a silent order.

You know what he wants, what he's demanding, even if he doesn't say the words aloud. Your eyes meet his, holding his gaze, as you slowly bring your hand up to wrap around his wrist, drawing his fingers into your mouth.

“Good girl…” He murmurs the words as he watches you, his eyes darkened by a possessive, primal need. He loves how submissive you are in this moment, how willing and eager you are to please him.

He holds your chin, his fingers tracing the outline of your lips, feeling the glide of his own release against them. “You have no idea what you do to me, doll. You make me lose all control. And I love it…”

He leans in, capturing your lips in a kiss that's equal parts tender and possessive. He can taste himself on your lips, and the thought just makes him want you more, more fiercely than before.

He pulls back enough to rest his forehead against yours, his breath coming faster now, his body stirring once more. “I swear, doll, you're going to be the death of me...”

He captures your lips again, kissing you deeply, his tongue delving into your mouth, tasting you, claiming you, marking you as his in every way he can think of.

Little do you know, about the real possessiveness he feels about you. Bucky is already planning to take you far away from everyone. To keep you all to himself. While you are already lost in the kiss and afterglow of the sex, Bucky is already planning about the future.

He kisses you again, with a fierce intensity, his hands roaming over your body, as if he's trying to memorize every inch of you. He's thinking of all the ways he wants to have you, all the ways he wants to make you his. He's already made up his mind. You're not just a passing fancy, or a distraction. You're his now, and he's not going to let you go. Not ever.

He then sits on the couch with you, while you rest in his arms, he picks out his phone preparing to take you away. He types out a quick message, his hands still caressing your skin, his eyes never leaving your face.

He's arranging for a secure location, somewhere remote, somewhere he can keep you safe and, more importantly, all to himself.

“My doll.”

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[gor3-hound]

over again

ft. leon kennedy x fem!reader

cw: 18+ content, dark content, heavy dub-con, forced ddlg, kidnapping, stockholm syndrome, fingering, p in v, creampie, mentions of past drugging, daddy kink, lots of pet names

a/n: took me forever n ever to write this ahhh sorry :/ hope you all enjoy it !! feedback always appreciated !! hopefully the writers block will finally perish.

word count: 1.6k words

14 weeks. 98 days. 2352 hours.

Leon leaves the house at 7.30 am every morning, except for Sundays. From Monday to Thursday, he's home around 6 pm. On Fridays, he isn't home until around 9 pm. Saturdays are the worst because he's home just after lunch.

Usually, when he comes home, he goes to the bedroom and unlocks the door to let you out. He threads his hand in your leash to take you upstairs, giving you a kiss on your forehead as he takes you to the kitchen to eat a meal. He gives you your food on a pink, plastic princess plate with plastic cutlery, and cuts the food into bite size pieces. More often than not, he hand feeds you.

You don't fight it. You'd learned your lesson. You refused food from him once. For 2 out of your 14 weeks locked up in his home, he'd underfed you to the point of starvation until you were begging him to feed you. He sat you in his lap, cooing all sweet as you chewed and swallowed every mouthful he'd given you. That day was the first day he slept with you.

It wasn't all bad. He was sweet. Gentle. If you closed your eyes, you could pretend he was a loving boyfriend. Someone who cared for you, not the creep who'd snatched you from the street after you had a few too many drinks at your friend's party, promising you a better life, safe from the world.

But he isn't sweet, or nice, or kind. He didn't do this for you, despite what his twisted brain tells him. You can pretend all you want that he's something other than what he is, but it doesn't change what he is. A monster.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

“Where's my little princess?” Leon's asking as soon as he walks into the house, kicking his shoes off and hanging his jacket up at the door. You recently got free reign of the home for being on your best behaviour. Didn't even have to keep the leash attached to your collar anymore. Lucky you.

“Here, daddy.” You say meekly, poking your head out of the living room to approach him, fiddling awkwardly with the edge of your shirt. Head down, so he doesn't have to see the defeated expression on your face as you force out the words, swallowing thickly to hold back your tears.

“You have a good day, sweetheart? You do any coloring in those cute little books I got you?” Leon's hands come up to your cheeks, gently stroking his thumbs back and forth across your cheekbones. You shake your head, gritting your teeth to stop yourself from saying something.

“No? Why not, baby? You don't like them? I got the one with lots of kitties. Pretty girls like you like cute things, don't they?” He coos, squishing your cheeks in his hands to make your lips all pouty so he can lean down and give them a little kiss, letting out a loud ‘mwah’ as soon as his lips make contact.

“You eat at least? I left some food in a lunchbox for you.” You shake your head again, and this time it seems to elicit a worse reaction. His brows furrow, and his hand grips your face even tighter. “No? Silly baby… can't do anything without daddy, can you? Come on. Daddy'll feed you, cutie.”

He heats up some food for you and puts it on a plate. The pink, plastic princess plate. He sits you on his lap and feeds it to you from a fork. Pink, plastic fork. The routine is the same, no matter how much you wish for it to change. When you finish eating, he presses a tender kiss to your head and rocks you in his arms.

“Such a good girl. Good girls get rewarded, princess.” He murmurs, pressing soft kisses against the skin of your neck, trailing them up until he's nosing at the hair behind your ear. His hand slides up your thigh and under your skirt, his thumb swiping your swollen bud through the already damp fabric. It didn't matter if you didn't want it. Your body didn't seem to understand what was happening - all it knew was Leon made you feel good. You hated how compliant you got when he touched you, how any thoughts of defiance melted away.

You go limp when he touches you. Docile. You let him do what he wants to you, just like a good girl should. Back-talking daddy is a big no-no. He wrote that in big writing on the rule list that's pinned to the fridge. Escape didn't use to seem impossible, yet now the thought never even crossed your mind. You'd tried, but he kept a tight lock on you. You wouldn't be surprised to find out one of the many injections he gave you when you were unruly had a tracker in. He always seemed to know exactly where you were.

You whimper as he dips his hand under the waistband of your panties. He parts your puffy lips with practiced ease as he continues on with the next part of his routine. 98 days later and he's mapped every inch of your body perfectly - found out everything that has you keening under his touch. Your hips buck as he runs his fingertip between your folds, gathering slick before rubbing small circles into your clit.

“Poor, dumb baby. She's soaking me already. You couldn't make yourself feel good when daddy was gone, huh, sweetheart?” His words are followed up by a finger burying itself in your tight heat, curling to find that gummy spot that has you clenching around him and bucking your hips. “Pretty princess cunt's been drooling for me all day.”

A choked sob leaves you when he pulls his cock out and sits you on top of it. He pulls you down until he's buried to the hilt, groaning as you tighten around his length. He buries his face into the crook of your neck, peppering it with tiny little kisses. You can't help but cry whenever Leon fucks you. 98 days later and you still sob whenever he bullies your cervix with his dick. No matter how many times he makes you cum or makes you go dumb on his cock, it doesn't change anything. He took everything from you - your family, your friends, your job.

You hated yourself more than Leon. For letting him break your walls down. For clinging to him as he tightens his grip on your waist, manhandling you on his cock, lifting you up and down. For finding yourself missing him when he's at work.

“Love…love you, daddy…” Your words come out more like a cry, nose all runny and cheeks wet with tears as he fucks up into you, his head shifting to hang back in pleasure. His fingers dig into your waist as he hears the words, a breathy laugh leaving him as he smiles - all toothy and bright like it always is when you say that.

“Love you even more, princess.” He grunts out, leaning back on the seat to force himself deeper into your pussy, guiding your hips back and forth so you're grinding his cock inside of you, rubbing your pretty clit against his happy trail. You gasp at the sensation, your hands gripping into his shoulders as your brows furrow in pleasure.

“Daddy… daddy…” You gasp out as your orgasm hits, your lips parting as you gush all over him. The look on your face as you cum is enough to have his balls tighten, his teeth gritting as he starts to shallowly thrust into you once more, chasing his own release. You always cry when you cum, and Leon always kisses the tears away when you do, his lips pressing against the wetness on your cheeks repeatedly. Another part of the ritual, another moment repeating day after day.

“Want daddy to fill you up, sweet girl?” He grunts, nipping at your neck as he wraps his arms tight around your waist in a bear hug, holding you steady as he fucks up into your drippy cunt. “Gonna warm you up right in that cute lil’ tummy.”

His hips stutter as his orgasm hits him, his jaw going slack as he presses the tip of his cock right up against your cervix, filling you to the brim with his sticky cum. He slides a hand under your shirt, his thumb rubbing gentle circles into the skin of your tummy.

“That's it. Keep it all in, okay? Daddy doesn't want to see his little angel spill a single drop.” He says softly, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. He holds you there for a couple of minutes, cradling you against his chest until it's time to go to sleep.

Before bed that night, Leon ushers you into the bathroom. Like every night before this one, he gently grips your jaw with one hand as he stands behind you, his other hand gripping your pink princess toothbrush as he brushes your teeth, his eyes locked onto you through the mirror. At bedtime, he tucks you in and curls up behind you, spooning you with one hand on one of your tits, and the other wrapped tightly around your waist.

Tomorrow is a Friday. He wakes you up at 6.30 am with a kiss to your head as always, a warm cup of milk in one hand and your breakfast in the other. He feeds you off of a pink, plastic princess plate and presses a kiss to your lips before leaving at 7.30 am on the dot.

[dearest-nell]

here comes your man

s. harrington x f!reader, 2.1k

summary: you go to pick up your very drunk boyfriend from the bar after a well deserved night out warnings: alcohol consumption, swearing, reader uses she/her pronouns

a/n: i was half asleep when i wrote this so all i can say is my bad, and i hope my three am deleirum brings you some joy

Hey… you might wanna come pick up your Stevie-Boy. He’s a bit wrecked...

It was a phone call you had half expected, though you didn’t mind admitting that you wished it had not come at 3am on your Saturday night. Steve had been so excited for a night out with the boys – work seemed to be piling onto him more than usual, and more often than not you’d find him half asleep on the couch by 8pm, arm propped uncomfortably beneath his head and back twisting awkwardly. This night came along with the extra TLC you prescribed him this week, taking on a little extra responsibility around the house so he might relax even just for a moment. Steve was a caretaker by trade, and doing things for himself seemed to hark back to a time where he only did things for himself. It took a lot for him to rewire that belief in his brain – self care did not mean selfish, he was a good person. 

You thought that the time out with his friends would remind him of that; how wonderful he was, how loved he was. He could be without responsibility for a night and simply enjoy himself. And enjoy himself he was… you hadn’t heard such an amused lilt to Eddie’s tone for a long time. You spent the drive over pondering just what kind of state your boyfriend might be in, your eyes heavy, body cooling with the iced air that blew through windows opened in an attempt to keep yourself awake. Eddie at least had sounded coherent, so you figured you would not be alone in the battle to try and haul your boyfriend into your beat up car. 

Dressed for the comfort of your own home, it took one disgruntled look towards a stubborn bouncer to let you past without paying an entry fee. You wondered how often this happened – half asleep partners turning up moments before closing to take their inebriated darling home. The thought made you chuckle softly to yourself, body weaving through the stragglers of the night still dancing to a wrapping up DJ. 

Eddie had told you they’d meet you by the lounges when you arrived, though Steve was nowhere to be seen as you approached your tired looking friend, his face pleased, if not a little weary. 

“Where is he?” You questioned, letting Eddie lean down to wrap his arms around you tightly, his weight pressing heavier on you that you had expected under the influence of what you assumed had been many, many shots. 

“At the bar. I thought he’d crashed half an hour ago, but he’s had a second wave.” 

You felt the short burst of laughter bubble up, an unsurprised uh-huh leaving your lips at the notion, eyes drifting towards the thinning crowd collected for the last call. Eddie let you go with a shrug, stepping back to let you go. 

“Alright, I’ll go get him. I’ll wave if I need you, ‘kay?” The nod you received was answer enough, and you set off leisurely towards your unsuspecting boyfriend. 

Steve was half hunched over the bar, palm rolling an empty shot glass flatly across the sticky surface as he waited for an already busy bartender. You couldn’t see his face, but you could picture the expression with such clarity – eyes heavy, blinking slowly as they tracked blearily across the back of the bar, that sweet, contented smile plastered on his lips for no reason at all. 

Following suit, you leaned yourself up against the bar beside him, elbows propping you up to rest your head in your palms. 

“You getting another drink, handsome?” 

Steve made a soft sort of mumbling sound, his head lulling to the side as he leaned away ever so slightly. “Mm, yeah… think so.” 

You nodded, smiling at the way he swayed on his feet. “Oh, I see. You wanna have some water with me?” 

Steve rubbed harshly at his face, eyes screwing shut tightly before blinking hazily at you. “No, thanks.” 

His gaze turned away, his grip on the shot glass faltering for a moment, reflexes only just catching it before rolling over the edge. You reached slowly to pluck it from his hand, though he recoiled sluggishly at the contact, forcing your brow up into a curious arch. 

“How about I take you home, then? Seems like they’re wrapping up.” 

Steve sighed, hands running through his hair in that same familiar flustered motion you were so acquainted with. Ordinarily, Steve would have been bouncing out of his skin to see you, but right now, he seemed like he wanted to be anywhere else. 

“Look, it’s nice of you to ask, but ’m taken. My girlfriend’s comin’ to get me.” 

Oh, how sweet. You’d never seen Steve so far gone that he hadn’t recognised you, but now that you focused your own tired eyes, you could see that his own were barely open to begin with. Your smile widened, amusement settling over you at the sweetness of him. 

“Really? You’re not even gonna look at me? Maybe I’m worth breaking the rules for.” 

He scoffed at that, body straightening up as much as his addled state could allow, his feet stumbling beneath him to put another feet of distance between the two of you. 

“I’m sure you are f’someone else, but ‘m not interested.” His tone was more clipped now, friendliness falling away in the hopes of deterring you. “Not another girl in the world for me but her.” 

God, he was sweet, and more in love with you than you could have ever hoped for a person to be. Your heart ached, entirely overwhelmed with adoration for this man who was waiting for you. 

“Well that’s very lovely.” You cooed, turning sideways to look at him, one arm dropping to your side while the other hand continued to prop your chin up, helping to hide that rosy blush that seemed to stain your cheeks. “I really think you should look at me, though, Stevie.”

You watched as the thought crossed his mind, a slow understanding that something about this interaction seemed out of place. It seemed to take another moment for reality to set in, his body turning and eyes widening comically as they came into focus. 

“Honey!” 

It had you in hysterics, the way his arm gave out from under him, narrowly avoiding his torso from smacking down against the bar top as he lurched towards you. Your arms extended out to catch him, meeting him halfway until his body was pressed tenderly against yours, eager hands creeping up to cup your cheeks, holding your face towards his so he might really look at you. 

“You’re here!” 

Your laughter rang out happily, eyes crinkled at the delight mirrored in his own. 

“Yeah, baby, of course I am. Wanted to make sure you got home safe.” 

If an iris could change shape, then you were certain you saw Steve’s melt into delicate hearts just at the thought of you coming out to take care of him. His thumbs ran adoring lines across your cheekbones, trembling slightly with restraint. 

“S’good to me.” He mumbled, words drowning out within the still deafening music that surrounded you. “Missed you.” 

You felt him slump against you ever so slightly, still conscious of weighing too heavily against you even in his inebriated state, though how he was holding himself up anymore was anyone’s guess. It was your sign to wave Eddie over, though, who without fuss looped a supporting arm around Steve’s back. 

“You gonna let your girl take us home, then? I’m gonna pass out, man, I’m so wrecked.” 

Steve’s brow furrowed, alarmed to have been so suddenly pulled back from you to lean on Eddie, and he reached out a hand in a needy sort of motion towards you. “I wanna dance with her before we go.” 

Too sweet for his own wellbeing, you offered him a sympathetic look, slipping yourself under his other arm to help prop him up. 

“We can dance at home just you and me, okay? In our pjs too — won’t that be nice. We just don’t wanna keep Eddie waiting too long; he’s all danced out.” 

You watched the contemplative look cross his features, leaving him distracted enough for Eddie to start guiding the three of you towards the door without much fuss from Steve. 

“Did you have fun though Ed? Really?” Steve asked, genuine concern threading through his tone as he addressed his friend who managed an affirming nod in response. 

“Loads. We’ll all go out again soon, but I’ve gotta give you back to your sweetheart before she gets too jealous.” 

Steve’s nod was so serious as he processed the words, entirely missing the small look of amusement shared between you and Eddie as you pulled yourselves from the establishment. 

“Yeah.” He agreed, his head lulling sideways to rest on the crown of your own. “She needs me.” 

It had sounded like a joke when he said it, but even you could sense the small severity behind the words, almost reassuring himself of the truth behind them. Of course you needed him. 

“Yeah, she does.” You confirmed, kissing at his shoulder clumsily as you tried to focus on your steps, narrowly avoiding toppling the three of you right over uneven pavements underfoot. “I always need you, honey.” 

You did not need to look at Steve to know that he was smiling — you felt it as you held him, felt it in his touch and the heat of his body carefully wrapped around yours. At least this night felt like a success in your eyes. Steve was happy, and you had done your part to make him so. He’d be awfully hungover tomorrow morning, but he’d be happy, and that was all that seemed to matter to you in the moment. 

Eddie managed to hold Steve upright while you fiddled with the lock of your car door, the boy now contently distracted with regaling tales of the night to the man who had witnessed them first hand. Getting him into the car was easy enough, tucking him cautiously into the front seat, your body leaning over him to click his seatbelt into place, his hand lifting to rub at your lower back in thanks. 

“You’re the best, y’know, baby? The real best. The best best.” 

You paused to smile at him, head shaking in amusement before brushing your lips against his cheek, relishing in the way his hand gripped excitedly at you for the briefest of moments. “I could say the same about you, y’know.” 

“Nuh uh.” 

A groan sounded from outside the car, drawn out and exasperated beyond compare. “Jesus H Christ, I’m begging for someone to take me home. It’s so fucking late, guys.” 

You pulled back with a laugh to witness Eddie’s petulance, your hand coming out to gesture to the back seat. “Then get in the car, dingus, and I’ll take you home.”

“Yeah, what she said!” Steve slurred from the front seat, the battle against his weariness now long lost, eyes closed and head resting heavily against its back, unable to hold itself up any longer. 

Eddie clambered into the back with a half assed eye roll, splaying out across the work back seat until he, too, was one with the upholstery. “You guys aren’t gonna be gross and sayin’ i love you’s all the way home, are you?” 

Steve’s eyes widened in horror. “Oh shit, I haven’t said I love you yet!” 

The charming little frown that spread across his face was enough to melt you in your entirety, your hand reaching out to brush his check with affection, his nose nuzzling sweetly into the cup of your palm. “I’m not worried about it; I know you do.” 

“Yeah, but I do love you. I was thinkin’ it the whole time, thinkin’ you’re so pretty n’ all. So pretty that I couldn't remember to say it.” 

Eddie just huffed again in the back seat, his complaints overtly ignored despite the growing expletives.

“I love you too, Stevie. How about we get Eds home and get you some water, then we can be as sweet as we wanna be.” 

Steve’s lips pressed into your palm, his kiss unhurried and uncoordinated as the alcohol hindered his usual grace, a mumbled m’kay tickling your skin as he spoke. 

You looked up into the rearview mirror, dropping your hand to Steve’s knee for the boy to hold, keeping his neediness satiated for the time being as he grasped it between his own eagerly. “You hear that, Eds? You’re in the clear. Let’s get you boys home.” 

A grumbled thank god and the creaks of the backseat window being clumsily wound down was enough incentive to start your travels, a pleased smile gracing your lips to know that Steve had been given exactly the night he deserved after all. 

[lowkeyerror]

The Family Business Ch. 15

WandaNat x Reader

Word Count: 2.8k

Ch. Notes: Angst, vomit, mentions of phsyical abuse, mentions of childhood trauma, mentions of death

Summary: After effectively taking care of the Fisk problem, you struggle with the moral reprocussions of that action, while also trying to deal with the truth behind your mother’s death.

An: A little quicker update than last time. Again idk when the next update will be, but just know it's coming. Hope you guys enjoy this chapter it's a soft one.

Series Masterlist | Masterlist

Your mind can’t seem to latch on to any singular thought. Instead they all run together in a way that makes you wish you couldn’t think at all. You’re to aware of what you’ve done. You can feel the blood, his blood, all over you. His words are bouncing off the walls in your mind. Your legs are unstable and everything feels like its too much.

You don’t get much of a say as your unsteady legs buckle under you, forcing you to your knees. You shake your head left to right as you feel the bile rise in your throat. Puking is the last thing you want to do, and the fear of vomiting makes tears flow down your face.

It's more than that fear. It’s everything that Wilson said before you blew his brains out. He was right, you weren’t ever a Maximoff. Just some fragile kid from a broken home, that wanted to prove themselves no matter what the cost. You couldn’t even be upset at the family, they hadn’t forced you into this lifestyle. This is simply the path you chose to feel like one of them.

You hear footsteps rapidly approaching behind you, you try to find the energy to get to your feet, but fail.

“ Y/n,” her voice makes you feel sick.

You can’t fight it anymore as the contents of your stomach begin to spill out. Wanda is by your side instantly. On of her hands moves your hair out of the way, while the other rubs soothing circles on your back.

Once it was over your breathing is heavy. Your chest heaves up and down, while your hands rest on your thighs.

“Was it true?” is the first thing you say to her.

“Y/n-" you can tell she was trying to reason with you with, to have you drop this for now.

You put distance between the two of you, turning to see her face, “Did you have my mother killed?”

Wanda takes in a large breath, “She was abusing you, every moment she had you. Emotionally torturing you with the death of your brother and physically putting her hands on you. That day when you came over and I patched you up, Pietro told us everything that he knew she did to you. We all agreed, that we wouldn’t let her near you again.”

You don’t know why you felt so bitter about it, but you did, “Killing her was your only option?”

Wanda shakes her head, “No, it wasn’t. We were going to just keep you away from her, but Pietro said the next few days she came to the school looking for you. She threatened him, and followed him to our house, that’s when Papa decided to put an end to it.”

“And my father?”

The woman sighs, “Once we told him who we were, he thought it was best for him to not be involved. He cared for you and loved you tremendously, but he was scared of our family.”

At the end of the day your mother was the cause of an abundance of your trauma and you couldn’t blame your father for not wanting to be involved in a crime syndicate. However, your anger was pointed at the Maximoff’s for keeping this from you for so long.

“Why didn’t anyone ever tell me?”

Wanda’s eyes meet yours desperately, “When you were younger, we thought it was inappropriate to share that with you. You were different back then and we didn’t know how you would react. When I left, I figured that eventually they would tell you. When I got back and they hadn’t I was upset. I wanted to tell you, but there’s been so much going on, Y/n believe me. When you asked in car, and I told you to trust me, I was trying to think of the right time. I just- I’m sorry."

As much as you want to be mad at her you can’t. She’s right, Wanda had been gone for over 5 years, how could she have known that they hadn’t told you. As soon as she came back there was basically a turf war going on.

“ I wasn’t supposed to shoot him,” your eyes are blank as they look into hers.

Wanda’s eyes soften, “I know little krolik.”

You shake your head, “But he brought up Lucas and I- he dared me to, so I did. It wasn’t my fault. I didn’t mean to. It wasn’t my fault.”

You were spiraling quickly. Though you were covered in blood and had just thrown up, Wanda wasted no time wrapping her arms around you.

“I know baby,” she squeezes you tight.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I didn’t want to kill him,” you sob into the woman.

She scoops you up into her arms, “We’re going home.”

“But, what about-”

Wanda silences you, “Don’t worry about it. They will handle everything else ok, just be here with me.”

You calm for a moment before you remember that Natasha got shot because of your recklessness. You start apologizing again, “I’m sorry, Natasha got hurt because I wasn’t thinking enough. I was being stupid, I should have done better. I should’ve-”

“She’s going to be fine, malyshka. She's been through worse,” Wanda gets you into the car and begins driving home.

By the time you get home, you’ve fallen asleep. Before Wanda gets out of the car she gets a phone call from her wife.

“How is she ?” Are the first words out of Natasha’s mouth.

Wanda has to stop herself from crying as she looks at your current state, “She’s not well, I’m doing my best, but I’m scared.”

“You took her home?”

Wanda nods though the woman can’t see her, “ We just pulled up. She fell asleep on the way, but she might wake up when I try to clean her off. She was throwing up when I found her. She’s worried about you, I’m worried about you.”

Natasha’s voice takes a softer tone, “I’m ok detka. The bullet is out, my arm is patched.”

“Papa and Pietro?”

“We called in Bucky, we’re trying to get a room set up at your parents house that will be suited for your father to do the rest of his recovery there. Pietro, he’s shaken up, worried about you and Y/n.”

Wanda takes in the information, “Natalia, I know I brought you out here to be apart of this with me, but I don’t know if I want this lifestyle anymore.”

As Wanda looks at you, she can see the cons of this life outweighing the pros. You’d already had a rough life before the Maximoff’s took you in, and now they’ve put you in this position where things seem to be just as bad if not worse.

Natasha takes a pause, “We’ll talk about this more when I get home and when Y/n is feeling better ok? I don’t want to make any decisions without her involvement.”

Wanda agrees, “You’re right, hurry back to me moya lyubov.”

“I’ll be back as soon as I can, I love you.”

“I love you."

Wanda sighs as she glances at you in the passenger seat. For a moment, her head falls into her hands. She wants to breakdown, but she holds it all in. With another deep breath she gets out of the car and carries you up to the room.

Wanda goes to lay you on her bed, but you cling to her.

“Y/n, baby it’s ok,” Wanda attempts to coo you.

“The sheets,” you mumble tiredly against her.

Wanda has tears in her eyes as she smiles softly, “ I don’t care about the sheets.”

You cling to the woman tighter in protest, and she doesn’t want to fight with you. Instead she carries you to the bathroom and sits you on the counter. You lean your back against the wall eyes barely open, but still able to see the woman running water for a shower.

Wanda turns back to you her hands tremble a bit as the grip the end of your blood and vomit covered shirt.

“Sorry, it’s gross,” you mumble.

She shakes her head,” I don’t care. Is it ok if I take this off of you?”

Your eyes open wider to meet hers properly, nodding slowly.

When she removes the shirt, her eyes linger on the scar on your abdomen from the day you left home. Her finger couldn’t help but to glide over the rigged skin.

“It needed a stitch back then, but I didn't want to see you in anymore pain. It probably wouldn't have scarred if I did,” Wanda reveals absent-mindedly.

“It’s my favorite scar, I’m glad I have it,” you find her eyes as you speak.

“Why?”

You look away from her, feeling shy for a moment, “ I remember you letting me rest my head on your shoulder and promising that the family would protect me."

Wanda frowns, “I’m sorry, we didn’t protect you enough.”

You take her hand, “I’m sorry I’m so hard to protect.”

“No, don't do that Y/n. We lied to you, I lied to you for years. Telling you truth wasn’t some Olympic sized task. It’s the least we could've done and it's what you deserved. Our- my carelessness lead you down this unnecessary path of pain, and I’m sorry. I should've done better,” you listen as Wanda berates herself unable to look you in the eyes.

“You weren't here, Wanda.”

“I should’ve been.”

You want to do something to give her comfort but you feel disgusting in your current state. Your eyes dart over to the shower and it's as if to remember why you were in this position to begin with. Wanda sees your movements and takes a small step back from you.

“Do you still need help?”

You think for a long moment, hesitation heavy in the air. Part of you wants to push her away now that you have your bearings a bit more. However a larger part of you wants the woman to help you in the shower

“Yes,” it’s breathy as it leaves your mouth.

Your hands guide hers to the button on your pants. She pulls them down gently. Wanda hesitates at the sight of your underwear. You attempt to hop off of the counter, Wanda’s hands find your hips to better guide you.

It's two swift motions as you remove your underwear. You stand before the redhead bare for the first time in this way. You stare at her waiting for something to happen. She sense the expectancy in your gaze and begins undressing.

Once the last of her clothing hits the floor she takes your hand and leads you to the shower. You enter first and she goes in after. The water against your skin feels good. It cascades from your face down your body washing away the gunk in the process.

Wanda doesn’t make a sound as she begins to wash your body. Her hands light and delicate against your skin. The only objective being getting you clean. Once you’re clean she spins you around and places a kiss on your forehead.

“I don't know how I feel,” you tell her honestly.

She takes a step back from you. You’re quick to grab her wrist and pull her back into you, “I just know that I want you close.”

She reached behind you to turn off the shower. “As long as you want me close, I won’t ever leave you again.”

You rest your head on her chest, her arms enclose around you once again. The sound of her heart beating calms you deeply. You could fall asleep right there.

“Let’s finish getting ready and then we can get in bed,” Wanda rambles against your head.

You nod against her and after a deep breath you both exit the shower. Once you’re dry and dressed for bed, you finally brush your teeth. You climb into the bed, but you’re wide awake.

Peace nowhere to be found as a million questions race through your head.

“I didn’t mean-"

“He deserved it, Y/n. He tried to kill papa, he had you beaten, he shot Natasha, he wasn’t a good man,” Wanda reassures you.

You shake your head, knees pulling closer to your chest, “Lucas is dead because of me.”

“That’s not true lisichka.”

Your eyes are quick to dart over to Natasha but you don’t move. Your gaze falls to her injured arm, and it’s yet another injury due to your carelessness.

“ I sent you in there and-”

“And I’m fine because you saved me. In fact you saved everyone in that room tonight,” Natasha doesn’t hesitate to crouch down beside the bed.

You frown, “No matter how many people I save, I can never go back and save Lucas.”

Natasha looks at Wanda for some kind of insight into who Lucas is to you, what he means to you.

“Lucas was my older brother, he would still be here if I hadn’t been so careless.”

Wanda disputes this, “You were a child, Y/n. Your parents should’ve been watching you.”

“I have this scar on the back of my head from where skull hit the concrete. A constant reminder that he’s not here and I am.”

Natasha takes one of your hands in hers, “ To me, it sounds like you went through something really traumatic as a child. Not just losing your brother, but also almost dying in the process. Going through that without the support of your parents makes it even harder to come to terms with.”

“Natasha’s right, Y/n. You’re a victim in all of this, and going through this alone was never fair to you. You didn't kill your brother, neglect did,” Wanda takes your free hand.

“My mom never stopped blaming me.”

“She should’ve never started. To abuse one child after the loss of another is a cruelty that only a monster is capable of Y/n,” Natasha’s words are a statement.

“But did she deserve to die?” You turn your attention to Wanda.

“How many times did she hit you? How many times did she starve you? How many times did she verbally abuse you? How many scars do you have because of her?” Natasha draws your attention back to her.

“Maybe she didn’t deserve to die, but she didn’t deserve to have that power of you. She didn’t deserve to torment you for the rest of your life. You couldn’t go out without looking over your shoulder, you flinched at every touch, and she had you thinking you were a mistake or a burden. You were just a child,” Wanda’s voice trembles as she speaks.

Natasha takes over again, “A mother doesn’t treat a child in the way that she treated you. That woman barely viewed you as her child, she doesn’t deserve your sympathy even in death.”

Your body begins to shake as the tears cascade down your face. You feel two sets of arms enclose you as you cry. They were right about your mother, she was an awful person. The more you thought about it the harder it was to think about anything good about her. After your brother died, you had no kind memories of your mother left. She was cruel, ruthless, and unforgiving.

After all these years, you never missed her. You hardly thought about her and when you did it was against your will. Her memory has haunted and tortured you since she has been out of your life.

“We have you, Y/n. For as long as you want us to, “ Natasha is gentle as she wipes away your fallen tears.

“We’re going to have to talk about this, with everyone,” you attempt regain your composure .

“We will be by your side, no matter what,” Wanda insists.

“Not just about my mom, but about Kingpin.”

Natasha nods, “Yes, but only when you’re ready. There’s no rush for these talks or conversations. With Dragos awake now, this problem isn’t falling straight onto your shoulders anymore.”

“Our main priority is you. Y/n, for once in our lives I think it’s time that the family business takes a backseat” Wanda adds on.

The idea plays in your mind briefly. A life where the most important thing wasn’t this job. No more missions, no more hacking, and no more danger. The thought would’ve bored you before, but now with Natasha and Wanda by your side, it seemed more desirable.

You nod, “Ok.”

“We love you lisichka,” Natasha gently kisses your forehead.

Wanda follows suit, “More than anything.”

The small smile plays on your lips, “I love you too, the both of you.”

It’s a brief moment as you swiftly place your lips on Wanda’s followed by Natasha’s, before quick passing out from the exhaustion of the day.

“I know that look detka. Everything is going to be alright, I promise,” Natasha says, looking at her wife’s worried expression.

“She deserves better Natasha, I have to do better,” Wanda keeps her own tears at bay.

“You aren't in this alone Wanda. I’m here, lean on me, together we can build something that Y/n truly deserves.”

Natasha interlocks her fingers with Wanda’s, “I love you.”

Wanda kisses the back of her wife’s hand, “I love you too.”

Taglist: @natashaswife4125 @autorasexy @alexawynters @blkmxrvel @toouncreativeforausername @likemick @sgm616 @bstvst @dorabledewdroop @sapphic-simp4015 @natty-taffy @justarandomreaderxoxo @mmmmokdok @tarathia @bgwlsmahf25 @lezzylover @og-kxsh-420 @vanessashands @untoldreader @sxlfishbrokenheart @marvelgirlx @elle161989 @falloutboy-lover

[basketonthedoorstepofthefbi]

Spencer Reid x Read fic. Reid and Reader are friends, like best friends. Reader is always offering Reid donuts and listening to his fun facts and info dumps. It's one of those, they both like each other, but also are convinced the other doesn't like them.

Spencer is taking care of a slightly drunk reader whose grandmother called and asked why they're not engaged when they're younger sibling is married and expecting a child. At some point Spencer makes his ever classic comment about how it's safer to kiss and drunk reader, before being able to think, kisses Spencer. I hope that made sense.

OOPS I DID EXACTLY THAT

Safer to Kiss (Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader)

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader

Word Count: 2899

Warnings: Mentions of food, drinking alcohol, mild cursing, outdated expectations of women, and lots of pining

A/N: Hi I wrote this in 2 hours and was extremely entertained, please enjoy and if you send me a fic request I'll probably do it bc this is my hyperfixation hobby right now and very much keeping the demons at bay xD @bxm-1012 thank you for dropping by my inbox! I am VERY tempted to make a part 2 of this, I hope you enjoy! c:

-----

The whole expiration date thing that women faced was, in your humble opinion, complete and utter bullshit. Here you were, slowly approaching thirty (definitely still told people you were twenty-five, when, in fact, you were actually twenty-eight), and the biological clock was ticking. No, you didn’t want kids. Not right now, anyway. Not when you were only two years into your career as a profiler for the FBI’s prestigious Behavioral Analysis Unit. Not when you still had tons of things to check off your bucket list - go to Europe, visit an independent bookstore in every state, pilot a helicopter. 

And you didn’t buy into that whole ‘once a woman hits thirty, her stock plummets’ crap. Not usually, anyway. 

But Nan’s phone calls always left you questioning your existence. 

Back home in Ohio, your little sister, Kendra, had just announced her pregnancy. Three years younger than you (ironically, the age you told everyone you were), and married to a power plant manager, Kendra was living the dream of a woman from the 1950s. You tried your best not to look down on it, to wish for more for her - but Kendra was happy. She’d always wanted to be a mother, and you couldn’t imagine anyone better suited for the role. There was nothing wrong with wanting to be a wife and a mother, to devoting one’s life to it. You reminded yourself of that every time you spoke to Kendra. You especially reminded yourself of it every time you spoke to Nan. 

That sympathetic tone your grandmother used when she said, “Oh, Button, you’ll find someone eventually, and you’ll be just as happy as Kenny” was like nails on a chalkboard. You resisted the urge to gag into your speakerphone and simultaneously rip your grandmother a new one. You wanted so badly to explain to her that you were perfectly fulfilled with your life. 

You helped lock up bad guys on a weekly basis, you wanted to remind Nan. Your brain was one of few that had been chosen for a task force that caught criminals based on their behavior. It was amazing, working for the BAU, bouncing ideas off of your colleagues, finding a family within this small group of people that spent more than forty hours a week together. 

Nan didn’t see it that way. She wanted you to be just like Kendra. She wanted you to have that white picket fence in the suburbs, with a broad-shouldered husband and two little tykes running at your feet. Domestic bliss just wasn’t in the cards for you, you’d decided. And that was okay.

You were still reeling from your conversation with Nan the night before when you walked in to work on Monday morning. It was Derek who caught the raging RBF first. “Woah, pretty girl. Pump. Your. Brakes.” He said, halting you just as you entered the BAU’s bullpen, holding a hand up to stop you. 

“Good morning to you, too, Derek,” You flashed him a phony grin, and he rolled his eyes. 

“And you’re grumpy this morning… why, exactly?” Derek asked, turning to walk beside you, essentially escorting you to your desk. 

“Because I’m allowed to be?” You proffered, shrugging your shoulders, not really wanting to talk about it with him. You loved Derek - hell, you loved all your coworkers - but he was not the person you wanted to go to with these thoughts. You didn’t really want to talk to anyone about it, actually. You just wanted to ride the cranky train until it came to a complete stop. 

Emily was returning from the kitchenette with a fresh mug of coffee and decided that the conversation concerned her as well. “What’s going on?” she asked. 

“Y/L/N’s wearing her cranky pants this morning,” Derek filled her in. 

“Oh, those so don’t match your blouse, Y/N,” Emily teased, winking at you with a smirk before looking at Derek. “Cut her some slack. No one likes Mondays.” Derek held up his palms defensively. “Alright, alright. Forgive me for being a concerned citizen.” 

“It’s appreciated,” You told Derek genuinely before setting your bag down at your desk. “But unnecessary.” 

It wasn’t until later in the morning, around ten, that anyone bothered you about your obvious bad mood again. This time it was Spencer, the one person you couldn’t possibly be annoyed with. He rolled on his desk chair around the partition that separated your workspaces, holding his hand out expectantly, like he usually did this time of day. 

Without speaking, you opened the bottom drawer of your desk and pulled out the white bag of mini powdered donuts that you always kept in stock. They were your guilty pleasure snack, and one of the first things you and Spencer bonded over when you started at the BAU two years ago. That, and the fact that you were the closest agents in age, was how you got along so well so quickly. Over several cases, varying in degrees of intensity, you and Spencer became really great friends. Best friends, actually. 

There wasn’t anyone else in your life that you trusted more than Spencer Reid. 

You opened the bag of powdered donuts and shook one haphazardly into Spencer’s palm, then grabbed one for yourself. Silently, you cheers-ed your donuts together, and ate them simultaneously, making weird-but-comfortable eye contact as you did. 

“Derek says you’re in a bad mood today,” Spencer pointed out with a teasing smirk on his face. A smirk, and white sugar blanketing his upper lip.

“Derek’s full of shit,” you grinned after swallowing your snack, the smile on your face totally facetious. “I’m extremely happy.” 

“I can tell,” Spencer snickered as you set the powdered donuts back in your snack drawer, closing it with a clank. You watched as he brought both of his legs up into his desk chair, crossing them like a kindergartner. 

The action made your stomach flutter. You’d felt strongly about Spencer for a really long time, probably a year and half, if you had to try and pinpoint it. But there was no use in going down that road with him. For one thing, he was your best friend, and you didn’t want to risk flushing the best relationship in your life down the toilet. For another thing, you knew it was one hundred percent impossible that he could feel the same way. 

“What’d you do this weekend?” Spencer asked, and you could tell by the question that he was trying to discover the source of your poor attitude. 

“Stayed home, caught up on chores,” You said, crossing your knees and leaning back in your seat, your expression telling him that you knew exactly what he was doing. As much fun as playing mind games with Spencer was, you decided to throw him a bone. “Spoke to my grandmother on the phone last night.” 

Spencer nodded understandingly. “Say no more,” he said with a chuckle. “She gave you the whole ‘when are you going to get married’ spiel again?” 

You nodded. “Unfortunately. I usually don’t let it bother me, but for some reason it’s just, like, lurking in the back of my mind today.” You shrugged your shoulders and exhaled through your nose. “What about you?” You asked. 

“What about me?” Spencer arched a brow, and you rolled your eyes playfully. 

“What’d you do this weekend?” 

“Oh,” Spencer began, pursing his lips for a moment, like he was hesitant to tell you. “I actually went on a date.” 

Your stomach flipped. “Oh yeah?” You choked out, forcing a smile. “Who with?” 

“That girl, Lisa, from the coffee shop, the one you told me wouldn’t stop ‘ogling my boy band hair’,” Spencer held up air quotes when he repeated your words from memory.

You recalled the cute barista from the coffee shop just down the highway from Quantico, a popular morning stop for agents on their way to work. You tried to stop the jealousy from turning your blood into fire. “How was it?” You asked, trying to resist the urge to sit on the edge of your seat, trying not to hang on his every word. 

Spencer shrugged his shoulders. “It was okay. She was very nice, but there just wasn’t…” he trailed off, gesticulating as the words failed to come to that supercomputer brain of his. 

“It was like a donut without powdered sugar on it?” You suggested with a small chuckle.

“Yeah,” Spencer agreed, nodding, meeting your eyes and smiling, mildly amused. “Exactly.” 

Spencer went back to his desk a few minutes later, and the rest of the day went on. It was quiet, especially for a day at the BAU. There were, weirdly enough, no open cases right now, so you spent the day catching up on paperwork, which there was always plenty of. 

You caught the elevator about ten minutes after five with Spencer in tow, and you held the door open for him. It was just the two of you as you made the descent from the sixth floor, and Spencer leaned against the back wall. “Plans tonight?” He asked. 

“Not really, no,” You said, shaking your head. “Why, you want to do something?” You asked. 

Spencer nodded. “There’s this landscape and nature photography exhibit at one of the galleries downtown,” he said. “Might be fun. There’s this artist, Milton Harvell, who takes photos of renowned locations around the world but zooms in on an obscure detail and gives the framed photograph to the person who correctly guesses the location.” 

You smiled slowly at that. You loved it when Spencer went off on one of his tangents. You found it completely adorable. “It’s actually quite fascinating,” Spencer went on, an amused tone lining his voice, making it sound lighter. “Kind of like a Where’s Waldo, but in reverse. There was this one photograph he took of the Louvre in Paris, but he zoomed in really tightly on a young boy enjoying an ice cream cone. He even went so far as to edit the photograph to make it look like it was a different time of day. The four thousand and eighth person to view the photograph was the person who guessed the correct location.” Spencer’s head bobbed and he was smiling like an idiot. 

God, you were down bad. 

“Was the four thousand and eighth person… you?” You asked, narrowing your eyes at him scrupulously and allowing a teasing grin to cross your face. 

“The photo’s hanging in my living room,” he confirmed. 

You laughed softly. “Will there be alcohol at this function?” You asked him, and he nodded. 

That was all you needed to hear. 

— — —

You and Spencer went straight to the art gallery from work, sharing a cab rather than bothering with your cars. You immediately bought a glass of red wine, and began to follow him around the gallery. You weren’t an art aficionado, not by any means, but you enjoyed looking at beautiful things, and you especially enjoyed spending time with Spencer that wasn’t hunched over a dead body or trying to map out a killer’s comfort zone. It was a rare occurrence, so you tried to soak it all up as much as possible. 

Plus, your Nan’s words were still lingering in the back of your head. It’ll happen for you someday, Button. Men just don’t find you strong, career types attractive. Maybe you should soften up your look a little. 

You downed your first glass of wine within ten minutes, and caught one of the catering staff passing out champagne almost instantaneously after. The champagne fizzled down your throat as you strolled with Spencer through the art gallery, listening intently as he went on about each piece, rattling off whatever contextual knowledge he had. But you were a little bit biased; you could listen to him list different types of soil and find it interesting. 

After the glass of champagne came another glass of champagne, and by the time you made it to the main exhibit Spencer wanted to see, your cheeks were flushed. It wasn’t that you couldn’t hold your alcohol; rather, it just made you a little bit silly. Your inhibitions were lowered, just like it would affect anyone. But with your arm looped through Spencer’s and your Nan’s nagging message still in the back of your mind, you were perhaps a little more loose than usual. 

As Spencer examined the exhibit, you tapped your foot, unable to keep still, and scanned the open space. Your eyes landed on another patron of the gallery, a conventionally handsome man about your age, and you found yourself unlooping your arm from Spencer’s, subconsciously not wanting to appear taken. 

“Are you gonna go talk to that guy?” Spencer asked, and you snapped your eyes back to his. “Because you can, if you want to. Don’t let me stop you.” 

It was almost like he was daring you to. Spencer’s jaw seemed tense as you examined his expression, the way his gorgeous brown eyes darted from the man and back to you. “You don’t mind?” You asked, arching a brow, almost like a challenge.

Spencer shook his head, his lips pursed. “Not at all. I’ll wait here for you?” 

You nodded, and turned towards the man. There wasn’t any harm in getting a guy’s number, right? Your feelings for Spencer were a lost cause, anyway. Plus, as Nan liked to point out, you weren’t getting any younger. 

The man’s eyes locked on yours and he seemed to understand that you were about to speak with him. He met you halfway, and you shook his hand. “Malcolm Greene,” he introduced himself, and you spouted off your own name in return. “You’re not here with that guy?” He asked, jerking his chin over to Spencer. Your eyes followed Malcolm’s, and you saw Spencer with his body turned towards the photography exhibit, but his head turned to the side, as if he were keeping an eye on you with his peripheral vision. 

“Yeah, I am,” you said, and Malcolm’s head inclined to the side. “I am. I’m here with that guy,” you panicked, suddenly realizing in that moment that you weren’t interested in speaking with Malcolm. No, you had absolutely no interest in spending your time with any other man but Spencer Reid. “I just, uh…” Your cheeks flushed, and you stifled an awkward laugh, anxiously trying to come up with some excuse. “I came over here to tell you that your shoe was united.” 

Your eyes followed Malcolm’s down to his shoes, which were loafers. Laceless loafers. Malcolm’s mouth opened as if to point this out to you, but you managed to stammer words out first. “Ok, well, have a great night, goodbye!” You turned on your heel and marched back over to Spencer, your cheeks red as you reached out for his arm. 

Spencer furrowed his brows down at you as your arm gripped his. “I need another glass of wine,” you confessed. 

Twenty minutes later, after two more glasses of wine and a very watchful eye out for Malcolm, you and Spencer left the art gallery. You were awfully giggly on the cab ride back to your place, cracking puns and humming along to the radio intermittently. Spencer seemed to be amused, but more so concerned with getting you home in one piece. 

As he walked you up the stairs to the door of your apartment building, he was teasing you about your conversation with Malcolm, which you still hadn’t told him completely about. “I still can’t believe you didn’t get his number. You were talking with him for exactly two minutes and twelve seconds. What, in that short of an amount of time, could have turned you off to him so quickly?” He pondered aloud, a playfully mocking tone lining his voice. 

“Listen, I shook his hand! I had my fun!” You exclaimed, bursting into laughter as you leaned against the handrail of the stairs that led up to the door. “Good, clean fun!” 

“You know, the number of pathogens that are passed during a handshake is staggering. It’s actually safer to kiss someone,” Spencer rattled off, and your eyes snapped to meet his. 

You don’t know what took you over. Maybe it was the wine. Maybe it was the way the street lamps reflected in the irises of his eyes, or how you stood just a few inches away from him. Maybe it was his stupid tweed blazer, how he looked like a tenured art history professor despite barely being thirty years old. Maybe it was the way he smelled like pine and printer ink, a combination you wouldn’t have ever thought was attractive. 

But when Spencer said that, you stood up on your toes and kissed him. It was slow and innocent at first, until it passed the border into lingering, and Spencer’s hands found your hips, pulling your body closer to his. There was a cool night breeze that filtered through the space between your bodies, and by the time you pulled your lips away from Spencer’s, and slowly opened your eyes, you were completely red in the face and breathless. 

No, that certainly wasn’t the safest choice you could have made.

——

read part 2 here

[silverflqmes]

Do you have any hcs for yandere Sephiroth? 👀

໒⦂ ‘𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄’ 𝐇𝐂𝐒.

notes. hi hi so uh i don’t do yandere stuff, it’s not a topic i’m super comfortable with writing ( as mentioned in my rules ) but i will provide a more subtle, toned down version if that’s okay instead :’)

genre. angst + suggestive

tw. possessive behavior, implied manipulation, jealousy

disclaimer. there is a visible flip in the headcanons from pre nibleheim sephiroth to post — which takes on a darker approach. if it’s not something you are comfortable with reading, then don’t.

sephiroth x gn!reader.

⌗ as a person who dealt with the loss of those he allowed into his life, having brought his walls down for them.. i do think sephiroth might have developed a bit of overprotective behavior — which honestly, is expected..

⌗ he doesn’t want to lose you or for any harm to come your way. whether losing you refers to death.. or to someone else — he doesn’t want any of that to come to fruition.

⌗ everything in life he cherished has been taken from him and you are not about to be one of them..

⌗ normally he’s as cool as a pickle if you’re talking to someone else, but there’s this aura emitting from him.. one look at sephiroth and the innocent bystander is practically shaking in their boots.

⌗ you of course — would be confused as hell on this.. i mean when sephiroth pulls you closer, you just assume he wants proximity..

⌗ until you go home, that is, and he’s just holding you without any means of letting go.. it’s silly, watching that subtle, yet visible pout of his and the furrow to his brows and all is understood

⌗ piece of you by shawn mendes tbh that is where my brain is rn

⌗ sometimes it’s a little more than an inescapable hug and turns into a storm of kisses — perhaps even a mark or few would be left in his wake.. but nothing that makes you uncomfortable cuz he doesn’t want to hurt or force you into anything. consent!!

⌗ while he has selfish desires and would prefer to have you all to himself, he values boundaries and freedom — it’s something he wasn’t given and he isn’t about to take that away from you, too.

⌗ but if you were trying to get a reaction out of him by PURPOSELY trying to make him jealous.. good LUCK walking in the morning are the only words i have for you LMAO

⌗ there is after care tho trust and it’s all part of the plan because he gets to have you stay over and spend time with him<3 which — despite your grumbles — you are more than happy to do<3

⌗ now uh, post nibelheim sephiroth.. he is a different case cuz he’s under the influence of jenova cells — which are obviously making him do some wild stuff..

⌗ following the concept that you would have said cells opens up the opportunity to mess with you a bit, as a means of getting you to execute his whims. kinda like he does with cloud..

⌗ he’s aware you’re trying to take him back and save him from what he’s become, and uses that to his advantage. you would do anything for him, wouldn’t you?

⌗ slowly, he would isolate you from your companions — they want him gone, anyway, but you don’t. you couldn’t sit with the idea of your lover being gone, even in spite of all he had done.

⌗ you told yourself it wasn’t him, and it was true, it wasn’t. for that.. you wished to continue your attempts at saving him, even if it was a descent into madness..

⌗ gradually, you are succumbing to his words, allowing them to reshape the view you had made for yourself.

⌗ he was right, anyway. the humans who blindly believed in shinra- were the ones that gave the company the power and means of further destroying the planet for their glory. sephiroth was right in almost every way to execute the goals he made for himself.

⌗ he only ever appeared briefly to you, his caresses leaving enough of a linger to leave you touch starved — yearning for contact.

⌗ the one winged angel only whispered soon in that velvety tone of his, a reassurance of the reunion that would be upon you both in time.

⌗ but at times, you pressed, pleading for just another second — minute or few of his time.. and with that desperation in your voice, the expression that crosses your features, how could he refuse you?

⌗ he would spare his precious time and entertain you a moment longer, indulging just a bit in you, and himself, of course. but once more leaving you lingering, longing for more.

notes. not one for writing yandere oriented content, so i hope this was okay and fulfilling enough since i watered it down quite a bit :’) just not super comfy associating him with the qualities of a yandere..

↳ return to main masterlist . request rules . send an ask

[zuyoo]

linger, one-shot. ﹙ nagi & gn!reader ﹚ 비애

CONTENT WARNING — clueless nagi, (open-ended) angst, misleading actions, images used are not face claims but rather used as a reference to visualize a scenario. enjoy reading !!!! :D

SYNOPSIS — you’re in love with your best friend, nagi seishiro, who is oblivious of your feelings but treats you well more than just a friend

ZUYOO’S NOTES — noOOoO 10 images limit on tumblr mobile app ( ꒦ິ ཀ ꒦ິ ) word count is probably a little over 1000 if not more than that.. ok ily enjoy reading MWAAA

p.s. i love u, everyone who leaves feedback and/or reactions with all my life :DD it just makes me feel so motivated in writing, thank you all sm!!

it started with one message, which lead to another… then another… then more. you two instantly clicked right after being attending the same club in your university. you’ve seen him before, and thought that he looked hard to approach—since he’s always on his phone, barely talks, and is always either practicing, in class, or out of reach (in his dorm)

you two grew close after talking about similar interests, and it didn’t take too long for you to develop feelings for him. i mean… how could you not when he has treated you way better than any other man who’s walked out of you life?

he messages you on a daily basis, doesn’t hesitate to come over and take care of you when you tell him that you aren’t feeling well, treats you to meals, drives you home, tries new hobbies because you told him you like those.

nagi has the looks, the talent, the brain, the skill, the body that a girl could ask for. you’re simply lucky enough to be near his presence—and oh boy how all the girls that see you two together makes you feel it.

their glares and side glances sharp as a knife, it gave you goosebumps all over. but you eventually paid no mind to their stares, the only thing that mattered at the moment is how you’d spend your day with nagi!

it’s been three years since your first interaction with him, and you two haven’t changed a thing. take it with a grain of salt. yes, you two still treat each other the same way, and no, he is not your anything—just a friend.

he’s such a fish to catch that you’re surprised why he’s still not seeing anyone at this point. maybe there was some point that you’ve thought about how there could be possibility that he could like you the way you like him, which is stopping him from seeing anyone else.

or maybe his actions has raised your hopes up and made you delusional. how could you know? you’ve been friends for three whole years now, yet you still can’t read him.

he left you on delivered? that’s new. well- it was bound to happen. it’s not like he’s obligated to reply or at least leave a reaction… right? right. you’re his best friend. nothing more, nothing less.

but what could he be doing? it’s a sunday. he doesn’t have practice, and the term just started. he couldn’t have had any assessments he needed to finish.

your questions were quickly answered once you’ve opened up your twitter app and found someone unfamiliar in your timeline.

“pfft—this happens all the time.” you say. “and they’re always fake.”

and how you wished you were right.

“oh.” was everything you could let out, as if that one tweet didn’t break your heart into pieces. you were glad he’s finally seeing someone—but at the same time, you had hoped that it was just a misunderstanding, that he’s actually maggy’s cousin… or something! just not her suitor. even though the signs are as clear as day.

it was petty, and this- this will hurt you, and it’ll hurt bad. so you had no other choice but to try and distance yourself away from him as much as possible, to save yourself and to respect who he’s been seeing. it was for the better… but—he was making it hard.

nagi’s completely clueless!

you didn’t know whether to laugh it out because of how oblivious he is. does he not realize what he’s doing to you?

at this point, you start to realize how none of it was your fault in the first place. you couldn’t control you feelings, and it certainly didn’t help that nagi treats you way too well.

even so, you could never blame him. it could just be in his nature, to be kind, lovable, and to be the pinnacle of a girl’s dream. and you were the one at fault because you’re taking advantage of his kindness to satisfy your curiosity regarding what it felt like being handled with genuine care, only for it to backfire—seeing that you actually fell for him big time.

still, that wasn’t your first train of thought when you met him. you genuinely wanted to be friends because he seemed like a cool guy. it just so happens that your heart begun to agitate more and more everyday when you’re with him.

or maybe it was maggy’s fau—oh my god, make up your mind, yn!!

“let’s not put the blame on everyone. whatever happened, happened. none of it matters now. i just have to get myself out of this mess… then i’ll be back to same, old me. right.” you thought to yourself.

you have been ignoring nagi for the past three days, leaving him on delivered, and practically scrambling away when you see him in the hallways—or everywhere, actually.

did you tell him why you’re doing this? no, why would you?

does he care? a lot, as a friend, most likely.

he’s been trying to reach you for the past 3 days, while you were off running everywhere but to the places you and nagi went to together, which is hard because you’ve both been to every cafe, every movie theater, every arcade, every mall your city could offer.

there was this one place you two haven’t been in yet. it was perfect for admiring the view below, or simply a place to just clear your mind.

you planned on going there after classes were over, and it made you quite excited. you were supposed to go here with nagi but… you know, things happened. nonetheless, you wanted to enjoy this, even if it meant not being able to bring nagi with you.

after class ended, you bid your farewell to your friends before getting into a cab and going to the rooftop lounge that recently just opened.

you opened the door that leads to the lounge and was surprised by what greeted you at the door.

it was nagi, with maggy. their hands intertwined as they admire the city.

ouch. seeing them like that felt like ten thousand trains running me over.

you were about to leave when you heard her call for your name. you froze on the spot, a course of thoughts ran through your brain on whether to run for it, or play a good face and not ignore her calls.

“y/n! come join us.”

you made the decision to turn around and approach them instead… she waved and smiled at you. god—how can you make such a lovely woman?!

it was too late to run anyways, you felt their eyes on you when you froze by the door, it would be far too embarrassing to just leave with them knowing that you heard maggy call for you.

“hey, i couldn’t reach you.”

nagi greeted. you briefly glanced into his eyes and gave him a smile before breaking eye contact. you could barely look into his eyes—you might burst out crying if you stare any longer.

“i was busy.”

you replied, dryly. you really were busy; busy with assessments, busy distracting yourself from your feelings, busy doing whatever it takes to forget about nagi… but if you two keep meeting like this—and if he keeps trying to talk to you, it will pose a challenge for you to fully move on.

why do you have to let it linger? you ask him in your mind as if he could read it. his constant concern for your wellbeing, his actions towards you, his daily messages checking up on whether you’ve eaten your meals yet—why does he have to let your feelings for him linger?

unknowingly, sure. but has he have not a single clue on why you’ve been distancing yourself? on why you haven’t been hanging around much?

you missed him, really. but this was the perfect distance for you both. he can keep reaching out until the day he gets sick of it; but as much as you want to respond to him, you can’t—you shouldn’t.

the following months were practically the hell. you’ve completely cut off contact with him (you ghosted him, basically) and was buried in a never-ending cycle of homework and projects, leaving no time for anything else.

when the semester ended, your friend, bachira, invited you to his party. he noticed that you were completely restless and said that you needed to loosen up a little.

it was 12 in the evening but the party has just begun—you could consider yourself a fan of staying at home in my comfy pajamas and old indie movies, rather than a party ‘til sunrise & drink ‘til you drop type of person… which lead you to excusing yourself out of the room with flashing lights and booming music to find somewhere else more peaceful to drink.

you found yourself on a huge balcony with a red cup on your hand. thank the gods that the doors muffles out the noise coming from the inside.

this was just right. and honestly what you needed. all that workload from the past few weeks has been killing you.

what you didn’t expect was for someone to break the silence you gave yourself.

“it was about time i saw you again. and out of all the places i thought i would see you in, a party was not one of them.”

nagi spoke nonchalantly. his sudden interjection jolted you out of your own thoughts. it’s been about six months since you’ve broke off contact with him. hell, you could barely remember his voice.

“oh fuc-… ah. i’m sorry- i should find another place.”

“no. stay. you owe me an explanation.”

maybe it was just you, but given where this conversation is headed… he sounded intimidating. his voice didn’t change much, perhaps it didn’t change at all, but you heard the sharpness of his words and felt the need to comply to whatever he says.

“sorry.”

“sorry doesn’t cut it, y’know?”

he lightly chuckled before mixing his drink around his own red cup that he brought.

“right… sorry. but, how are you? how’s maggy?”

“ah. it didn’t work out. she’s nice but it really isn’t working out for us.”

“oh. sorry.”

that was a surprise. you thought they’d still be all lovey-dovey with each other. maggy is a lovely girl, what could’ve gotten wrong?

“another apology and i’ll keep bothering you. you wouldn’t like that won’t you? considering how you’ve completely ghosted me for 6 months without an explanation or even a subtle hint of why you did it? right?”

“hey-!”

okay… maybe he hasn’t changed that much. he still holds his grudges. nagi broke eye contact and looked up to the moon with this… yearning look on his face—he looked so pretty, it was pathetic!!

a sigh left your lips before nervously starting to explain you side, since you felt like he really needed to know why. plus, it was a good chance to let go of that burden.

maybe a confession was nagi’s needed closure, and your way of letting go of the guilt of knowing you’ve randomly disappeared in his life without him even knowing anything.

“i like… liked. you, nagi. more than a friend should’ve.”

“what?”

his actions came to a halt. oh, he was THAT clueless

“aha—yeah… but then there came maggy. she was such a lovely person, and i know you deserved to be loved like that. i should’ve been happy for you, but i really couldn’t bring myself to. it hurts seeing my best friend whom i’ve liked for the longest time smile because of a person they’re romantically involved with, y’know?”

you weren’t able to find the strength to look at him as you explained, but it felt like a weight was lifted off of your shoulders after.

“i-”

“no, don’t say anything. i just really needed to let that out… for your sake, and mine. i also wanted to thank you. y’know—for everything. you’ve been a great best friend, nagi.”

“okay but-”

he didn’t get to say whatever he wanted to say because the door that leads to the party suddenly opened, revealing a tipsy bachira.

“y/n!! here you are~ and nagi too!!”

bachira gleefully said before dragging y/n back inside, leaving nagi alone in the balcony.

he watched your figure get lost in the crowd of people partying without end, saying:

“ah-… i liked you…too?”

© zuyoo — do not copy, plagiarize, or translate my work without my permission. i only upload my work in tumblr.

[wave2tyun]

eyes locked, hands locked | ☆

pairing: prince!soobin x reader

genre: royal!au, fluff<3

prompts: - “was that your first kiss?”

- “stop looking at me like that”

warnings: none!

word count: 1.3k

a/n: i apologise for the long wait my lovely anon!!😔😔💞 have fun reading hehe!! :DD<3💞💓💖💘💞 honestly, going through this one again really makes me want to have another go at royal aus, perhaps something longer?? but at the same time i have too many wips going on and AHHHHHHHH i wish the fics would write themselves as fast as my thoughts go through my brain<//3

☆ = repost from my old blog!!

there was nothing more besides the cheery, tiny crickets in the grass that kept you company in the coldness of the night.

while everybody else was busy running around the castle, setting food down on the tables or balancing the champagne-filled glasses on silver trays, your one and only job was to watch over the garden’s flower section, careful so as not to let any curious kids wander off around the perimeter and trample all over them in the darkness.

that was how you were supposed to spend your evening: pacing around the cobblestone pathway, watching the moon and stars, feeling your heart ache as the grand classical music pierced the silence at midnight, wondering if soobin had found himself a partner to dance with, to hold close, to court.

you could tell that the chore had been specially tailored for you by the queen: it kept you away from the ballroom, the guests, and most importantly, from her son. she wasn’t exactly fond of the way the relationship between the two of you had been evolving- your presence left a bitter taste in her mouth, she couldn’t risk having you, a maid, impede the royal family from continuing their pure, blue blood heritage.

you were way too absorbed by the dancing silhouettes you could see from the windows -wishing that you, too, could slip inside- that you didn’t hear the sound of footsteps approaching.

soobin was right behind your back, out of breath, hands slightly sweating while he looked at your figure. he wrapped his arms around your torso, pulling you in tightly as he tenderly embraced you “i missed you” you heard him whisper, his breath tickling the back of your neck.

you couldn’t fight back the smile taking over your face, feeling relief that he was alongside you, and not with some stranger, holding them close to his chest, swaying them across the dance floor “how did you sneak out?”

“beomgyu helped me- he made a mess at the dining table while attempting to pull a magic trick” soobin chuckled, remembering the way all the plates and glasses flew in the air as his friend pulled at the table cloth “needless to say, my parents were too astounded to keep their eyes on me”

you laughed at his explanation, knowing beomgyu, the incident must have been much more ridiculous than anything you could ever imagine. he sacrificed himself just so that the two of you could meet. however, the royal family adored him too much to ever throw him out, not matter how chaotic his endeavours were.

“i missed this” soobin placed a kiss on your right shoulder “-and this” he sweetly pecked your cheek, then spun your body around so that you could fully face him. the dim light shining from the lamp poles illuminated your features, giving them a gentle, mellow glow, and, perhaps without even realising it, soobin was leaning closer towards your lips. your breath hitched in your throat as you noticed how short the distance between you was getting, and yet, you allowed him to do it- to close the remaining gap.

you were stiff, anxious, forgetting to close your eyes or at least kiss him back, your mind could only focus on the softness of his lips and how his hand began to trail further down your waist. soobin separated himself from you hesitantly, not too much, only to the point where you could still feel his breath fanning on your face “i apologise, did i go too far-“

“no- that’s not the case” you cut him off. there was a tremble in your voice and it was impossible for him to tell whether it was from anger, sadness, or perhaps nervousness. you tapped your lips with your fingers, struggling the words that wouldn’t make this more embarrassing for you than it already was.

soobin’s head tilted to the side, expecting you to go on further. he couldn’t quite understand why you just stood there when he kissed you, like a statue devoid of emotion. you had always been cold on the surface, mostly unaccepting of any external forces. that didn’t stop soobin from delving deeper inside your heart, he knew that, in reality, behind all your pretending, you were warm, a certain kind of warmth that he’d crave more and more as time went on.

which is why, despite all the distance you had desperately tried to place between the two of you over the years, he still found himself calling out for you. it was inevitable- you were pulling him in like a magnet.

the flowers seemed to pick at his interest only when he walked around the garden with you. maybe because he was all too immersed by your gaze, wanting to find out which plant had your wholehearted attention. maybe it was because he wanted you to look at him that way too- or, maybe he just dreamed of gifting you a bouquet of all your favorite flowers, all handpicked by him from the garden.

the pastries tasted better whenever you were the one who made them, not mr. hughes, the main chef, or any of the other maids. so, each time he spotted a fresh batch made by you in the castle’s kitchen, he’d place one in his mouth stuffing his pockets with at least four more pieces. the butter from the sweets turned the fabric into a dirty, buttery mess, which the maids on cleaning duty loved to complain about. they couldn’t get how, at some point during the week, the pants in his laundry basket managed to reach this state.

he couldn’t deny it, he was completely, thoroughly infatuated by you.

“it’s all new to me” you attempted to reveal the truth, unaware of how vague your statement must have sounded.

soobin continued to look at you with a purely clueless look “what is?” the tone of his voice was a mixture of confusion and concern.

“this” your thumb reached out to graze his lower lip, eyes following the motion. soobin took your hand, holding it against his cheek while smiling.

“was that your first kiss?” his voice quivered as he asked, hiding a laugh. the situation, albeit embarrassing for you, was foolishly endearing for him.

“stop looking at me like that” you dodged his question, returning to your usual, rash behaviour, but soobin knew that you were only doing it out of nervousness.

“why? am i making your heart thump faster?” he whispered, placing a kiss on the inside of your palm “or-“ he leaned down, continuing to speak in a low tone as he reached your ear “perhaps you already want more?”

you gave his shoulder a slight push. where was the flustered boy from a few seconds ago, the one whose eyes widened at the thought of having stolen your first kiss?

“i think you’re getting way too ahead of yourself-”

“i’m not, you’re just afraid” he provoked you, now that it was clear in his mind that you did want the kiss, you just didn’t know how to return it. knowing your ego and short temper, how else could he ensure himself another taste, if not by teasing you?

“afraid of what?” you scoffed.

“of being a bad kisser”

“i’m not-“ your tone sharpened as you looked at him.

“well, how would you know?” he snickered “wasn’t this your first kiss, or am i mistaken?”

by the way he spoke, you could tell that he was enjoying this more and more by the second. catching on to the trap he was leading you to, you grabbed a fistful of his shirt, a tangled mixture of his collar and necklace in your hand as you pulled him closer, pressing your lips to his. you didn’t know exactly what to do, you only puckered your lips, hoping that it was enough to make a difference from your earlier kiss. soobin pulled away with a chuckle, tilting your chin up with one finger “i believe you need more practice, sweetheart”

taglist: @huekalover3000

[thenatallie]

Description: This fanfiction has a few short parts. You are bethroted and believe you're going to love your future husband, but instead of getting married, you were captured to end up as Feyd's first concubine ever. No smut in this chapter, but expect a heavy smut at some point, so 18+ only. English is not my first language, but I hope you enjoy the story.

A decent lady

Part I

A decent lady should not have such thoughts of a future marriage, you scolded yourself. You were mentallly absent while walking through your fiancés' gardens with him. He was a true gentlemen, and a nice looking man, too, but something there was missing... You had just one secret boyfriend before being bethroted. Two years ago, when you and your ex were both 20, that thing happened. It hurt a lot at the beginning. And lately, during some nights, you had dreams about a misterious man and those were very intense, shameful dreams. But you couldn't feel anything similar for your husband to be. However, as he was going to take a good care of you, you consoled yourself that everything was just right. The marriage with him, from a higher class family than yours, was going to be more than favorable for your family, too. You shall give birth to his children. Love, maybe even passion, would come in time. You were raised to believe so.

***

And just like that, overnight, your fiancés' home planet was invaded by fearsome, infamous Harkonnens. There were blood and screams everywhere. You fainted... Awakened by bitter smell of some medicine, you first notice concerned look of a thin bald and frightened girl. "Wh... where am I?" "On the ship", the bald girl quietly replied. You've realized it has already landed... So, you must be on Giedi Prime. Planet where captured people end up being slaves...

***

Your brain was still fuzzy from fainting and such a shock. The Harkonnens divided prisoners in two groups - men and women. Your group was surrounded by repulsive bald savages, examining each of you. Then, you were separated from the group with a dozen of other girls and women. A most disgusting looking Harkonnen, biggest of them all, approached to you, and was looking at you with a satisfied smile. It must be the Baron... You started to tremble, pinning your eyes to the ground. "Here, come take a look of these women and choose as many as you wish. It is your birthday gift", he said to another man. The man approached your group and slowly paced in front of you all. As he passed two times near you, his pace had slowed both times. You instantly knew, without daring to look at him, that he was going to choose you... He stopped to take a better look at you, just as you feared. You could feel his eyes wandering from your head to toes. Your heart was pounding hard and fast. The man finally spoke in a raspy voice. "Look at me." With a hesitation, you looked up, meeting his icy blue, cold eyes. His face expression couldn't be red at all. He looked arrogant. A small corner of your mind noticed that this one was very young and surprisingly pleasent to look at. But the thought quickly dissapeard, as fear overwhelmed you. There was something murderous in his eyes. He approached you a bit more and his pupils suddenly dilated. That particilar predatory gaze gave you chills down your spine, as you started to tremble from fear even more. "I'm taking just this one", the man in front od you said and nonchalantly walked away. Suddenly, everyone became quiet. The Baron, too, couldn't hide his surprise, but explained to the crowd: "I suppose he chose only one girl to tame this time, for this is his first gift of this kind. Or he simply likes just this one."

***

[cherryblossombankai]

Summary: Hawks feels lonely and decides to go to a bar to look for some company. 

Word Count: 560

Warnings: drinking, flying, pretty tame overall tbh, language

Author’s Note: This was written for a little writing challenge! It was fun stretching my brain muscles and it’s been a while since I wrote something based on a song. 

Tag List: @pixelcafe-network, @actuallysaiyan, @helloiamadrawer

The bar is dark and quiet, but still, Keigo can’t hide anywhere. His strong wings draw attention wherever he goes. Usually, he plays it up, flashing a bright smile and telling jokes like he doesn’t have a care in the world. He wishes he really felt that way. Sometimes it would sneak over him. When he’d be soaring through the sky, high above the city, sometimes he’d feel free. Then, the feelings would quickly fade. He’d be reminded once more how he’s just a cog in the machine. At least nobody in this place approached him. They watched, of course, with flickers of recognition in their eyes. 

“Look it’s chicken wing!” one particularly drunk man yelled across the bar room. Keigo frowns, but when he turns to retort the man’s friend is holding him up and offering Keigo apologies. 

“It’s fine. Just take care of him,” he sighs before turning away. He finds a lone seat at the end of the bar. He did want company, but he wanted to stretch his wings out even more. 

You didn’t light up the bar when you walked in. There was no dazzling smile that drew his attention. You were lost in thought, maybe even a little sad. That’s what drew his attention to you, trying to decide whether you would cry. He fancied himself a bit of charmer and thought if he saw you crying, he could slide in there to make you smile. 

“Are you watching me, hero boy?” you ask from across the bar, speaking over the glass that you’re raising to your lips. 

“Maybe. Is that okay?” he smirks. 

You shrug in response, “You can watch whatever you want.” 

He could sense the sardonic resignation in your voice. The acceptance of your situation. He realizes maybe you were never sad at all, but instead frustrated. Maybe you feel like him. 

“Hey, you wanna do something cool?” he asks as he gets up from his seat and walks over to you. 

A soft laugh falls from your lips, “Define cool?” 

“It’s a surprise,” he assures you. “Just come with me. I’m a hero, right? You can trust me.” 

You roll your eyes playfully and stand up. “Fine, but if you try to like pull out your dick or something once we’re outside I’m gonna kick you.” 

“No promises,” he winks. There was something about him that you trusted. Then again, you figured maybe he was right. You’d always been told to trust the heroes, and even if his attitude was not typical at times, he’s the number 2 hero now. 

That’s how you ended up flying above the city in his arms. Your screams of delight fill the air around you when he swoops and spins to show off. Your arms are wrapped tightly around his neck. It had taken him a bit to talk you into it, but now that you’re in the sky you never want to come down. 

Keigo didn’t know how different it would feel not to fly alone. He tightens his arms around your waist and enjoys how it feels when you nuzzle into his neck. 

You’re still holding on tight when he finally lands in front of the bar again. You take a moment to regain your footing. 

Your smile is bright as you look up at him, “When can we go again?” 

[apomaro-mellow]

King and Prince 25

Part 24

Steve read and re-read the letter over and over. He’d been awake for a couple of hours and had yet to leave his room. Sometimes he paced about the floor, letter in hand, eyes glued to the page. Other times he fell against the bed, Eddie’s words pressed to his chest as if that could calm the pounding that threatened to overwhelm him. Steve rubbed his cheeks, starting to get sore from his smile. 

Eddie seemed genuine. The letter was full of his intent to court him officially. The idea warmed his entire body. It was nice to be kissed and told sweet things in fleeting moments leading to a coupling. But to have this - someone saying with no uncertainty that they had their sights set on you. And the implication of the end of the road leading to an altar. Royalty didn’t play games of love like this.

If all Eddie wanted was his physical affection, he wouldn’t be going to all this trouble. For a moment, Steve wondered if he would have allowed that. If Eddie had made a few simple, yet flirtatious remarks, a few suggestive gestures before leading him to a private alcove…

Steve let out a breath and tugged at his collar. The idea was alluring and Steve couldn’t say for sure that it wouldn’t happen. But he was glad he had this, this letter in his hand. It told him that Eddie wanted more and saw him as more.

He searched for writing materials. It was only proper to reply with a letter of his own. Usually one had more time to answer an invitation to courtship but there was no reason to wait in this instance. 

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

Eddie watched on as El lifted a mound of clay. It floated in the air right before her, just a shapeless lump. 

“Good, now imagine your hands shaping it. Any form that you want, just picture your own fingers doing it”, Eddie said.

Something poked the clay from one spot, and then another. El’s brow furrowed as she tried to mold it. Eddie observed, expression neutral. Suddenly, El dropped the clay onto the table with a splat and frowned at him.

“I can’t do it.”

“What were you trying to make?”, he asked.

“...Something?”

“Well, there you go. You need to have a solid image in your mind.”

“Am I interrupting?”, Steve asked, poking his head into the art room.

“No”, Eddie smiled. “We were just about to take a break. El, go and rest your brain.”

She scurried off, already looking lighter than air as she walked out, leaving them alone. Eddie took in Steve. He was wearing yellow today, with accents of orange. His hands were behind his back as he stepped into the art room. Eddie swallowed a little when he realized Steve must be here to give his reply. Suddenly his hands got sweaty and he put them behind his own back to hide the fact.

“Did you-”, he paused to clear his throat but ended up coughing, bending over a little in effort and then tried to brush it off by leaning against the table. “Did you receive my letter?”

“I did”, Steve said, a coy smile on his face. “You do know that for a real, true, legitimate courtship you are required to approach my father for permission?”

Eddie couldn’t help the sneer that came upon his face. “The day I ask that man for permission for anything is the day the world breaks in two.” His arms had crossed but he uncrossed them and stopped leaning on the table, standing up straight as he looked Steve in the eye. “I care only for what you say.”

“...What if I were to refuse you?”, Steve asked, curious.

Eddie looked torn for a moment. “Then I…I would…if my feelings are not reciprocated, I would respect your decision.”

“Even if that decision was to marry Jason Carver?” When Steve asked that, he didn’t miss the way Eddie’s fist clenched before hiding it behind his back.

“Even then.”

“Even if I wished to be given a horse, some coin, and to be let loose on my way to forge my own path?”

Eddie’s eyebrow raised. “As a commoner?”

“As a commoner”, Steve nodded.

“Then you’d have a horse. And any amount of money that you would find respectable.”

“You would let me go that easily?”

“Who said it would be easy?”, Eddie breathed out. “I would let you go but I would think of you everyday after. You may leave this place but you have taken up permanent residence in my mind.”

“You’d still think of me?” Steve found that hard to believe. As a ruler, Eddie surely had more important things to keep him occupied. He might think of Steve for a time, but not for long.

“You would be in the face of every flower I see. I’d hear you in Dustin’s laughter, see you in the way Robin smirks. You’d be everywhere, even if you’re nowhere.”

Steve revealed his hand and held out a sealed envelope. Eddie took it, hands trembling only a little. He looked into Steve’s eyes, his own full of hope and asking for the allowance to open it right away. Steve nodded.

To the King who has opened up his home to me, 

Please do not misunderstand the shortness of the letter as a lackadaisical approach to romance. And I beg you to excuse the theft of your own words. I am not adept when putting a pen to paper. But I too, feel as if I could speak on you for pages and pages. That is to say, I humbly accept your offer. And I look forward to seeing what sort of romance you believe I am suited for.

Sincerely and with great hope,

Prince Steven

Steve waited with bated breath for Eddie to finish. It took longer than he had expected but that was simply because Eddie kept going over different parts of the letter in disbelief. Finally, he looked away from Steve’s writing.

“You realize what this means?”

That Steve was putting his heart in his hands, that he might face obstacles as an enemy courting the attentions of a king, that one day he may need to answer to his parents for his decisions, that-

“You and I will be needing a chaperone from now on”, Eddie said, interrupting Steve’s thoughts. “It’s no longer proper for us to be on our own.”

Steve blinked, realizing he was right and that they were alone right now. Most indecent for two people who were starting a romantic exchange, not yet married. Nothing to witness except for the easels, paints, and other art materials in the room. Steve grinned, pushing some hair behind his ear.

“And just what are you expecting we’d get up to all alone?”

“I-”

A trio of footsteps saved Eddie from answering as he was sure to stutter through a reply. El returned, Will and Max in tow. Will, ever the sensitive one, felt that they had interrupted something and gave them both quick glances. Max, also sensitive but less considerate about it, just brushed past them, going right to her own station where a mound of clay was waiting.

“Are you ready to start back up again?”, El asked, looking between Eddie and Steve.

“Uhhhh…”

“He’s ready for you”, Steve answered in his stead. “He and I will be seeing each other later.”

Steve walked out, brain working overtime to take in everything that had just happened. Eddie’s body language and the way his voice sounded. He had looked, nervous, for lack of a better word. It was the perfect word for it but still Steve was hesitant to use it towards himself. It surprised Steve at first. Why should Eddie feel nervous? But then when he understood it, he found it endearing. When a king set his sights on someone, it was considered a done deal. Who would deny a king? But Eddie was treating the situation like there was a chance Steve might say ‘no’. Like he really cared and would put forth the effort for him.

Better than floating on clouds, or being swept away by a current, for the first time in a long while, Steve felt like he had two feet on solid ground.

Part 26

Taglist

@thesuninyaface @only-evanescent  @snakeorsquid  @ignoremyworld  @theclichefortunecookie 

@goodolefashionedloverboi  @just-a-tiny-void  @0body0disphoria0  @cinnamon-mushroomabomination  @samsoble 

@jamieweasley13  @y4r3luv  @xtkxkrzrizir  @un-knownperson  @greekgeek24 

@justdrugsformethanks  @potato-of-the-lord  @notaqueenakhaleesi  @swimmingbirdrunningrock  @queenie-ofthe-void 

@nebulainajar  @lil-gremlin-things  @nicememerino  @robininblue  @hornedqueenofhell 

@anne-bennett-cosplayer  @moomkin77  @here4thetrama  @bookworm0690  @autumncrocusandladybug

@lil-gremlin-things @littlebluejane @puppy-steve

[idontknowreallywhy]

Push

A little Flying Fish one-shot thrown down on my commute. Less plot, more vibes, but inspired the fact my tiny Scott keeps enduring this Situation:

And not at all that a certain someone not too far away may have tried to approach a certain thing in a certain way. Nope…

Featuring One Idiot Flyboy and One Wise Fish

💙💛💙💛💙💛💙💛💙💛💙💛💙💛💙💛

“Better not let the Virg see you limping about like that old man.”

Damn observant squid. Scott immediately corrected his gait and strode purposefully into the kitchen.

Ow. Ow. Ow. Damn it.

Gordon followed, because GORDON.

“What? I just had a wrinkle in my sock.”

“Uh huh.”

“Yeah ‘uh huh’. Now it is gone.”

“Course it is.”

Scott set the coffee machine running and for a few blissful seconds conversation was made impossible by the sound of grinding beans.

It also handily covered the noise of him cursing the entire physical therapeutic profession under his breath.

Sadly, between them Brains and Virgil had upgraded this to be the most efficient coffee-production mechanism on the planet, and the excuse was gone before Gordon got bored and left him alone.

Who was he kidding? Once the limpet latched on… a different tack was needed to scrape him off. And after all, attack is often the best form of defence…

“So, how’s your back after the super-sub rescue, Fish?”

“Getting there. I know the drill now. Slow and steady, just gotta be careful not to rush or over-extend it. The physio helps…”

Gordon had an eerie way of making an ellipsis audible.

“Good good, keep it up.”

“Thank you, Mr Motivator.” Gordon perused the range of noxious-coloured energy drinks in the fridge and in a clearly fake-casual voice threw the return grenade over his shoulder:

“How’s your physio going?”

“Fine. Good. Smashing it actually.”

“You don’t smash physio, bro.”

“I do.”

“Oh. Well, you’ll have to give me some pointers. For example, how to smash it so hard you appear decidedly more uncomfortable you did yesterday… I can tell by your posture - that ain’t no sock wrinkle, Scoots.”

Scott immediately stood up straighter and took a long gulp of scalding coffee to disguise the wince.

Gordon raised an infuriating eyebrow.

Scott eyeballed him impassively and took another swallow, just to make sure his throat lining was entirely obliterated. No point doing things by halves.

The raised eyebrow was replaced by an even more irritating expression of concern.

“Hip dislocations take a while bro… and your leg very nearly parted company with the rest of you… there was a lot of swelling in that joint. Give it time.”

Scott shrugged.

“Is all good, I’m nearly there. As soon as I get full rotation, I’m back in the air.”

“I knew it!”

“There’s nothing to know.”

“You’re trying to fast track it! It’s meant to be a GRADUAL extension of range! Faster isn’t always better, you great lanky donut!”

Scott didn’t have to listen to this. So he spun on his heel and made for the desk. He absolutely did not wobble and tip the rest of his coffee down his sleeve as his treacherous pelvis made a ridiculous fuss over nothing.

An even more treacherous part of his brain wondered if his little brother didn’t have a point. Scott threatened it with hyper-specific lobotomisation.

Little Mr Got-Straight-As-In-Physio slid under his shoulder and took a good proportion of his weight just as he stubbornly stepped forward again. Blinking frustrated moisture out of his eyes, Scott heartily wished it hadn’t helped as much as it did.

“Pretty sure you’re meant to use the crutches for a little longer yet too, huh?”

The groan escaped before he could stop it.

Gordon manoeuvred Scott to the couch. Scott’s right hip point blank refused to resist and the rest of his body meekly followed.

He dropped on to the couch, yelped, muttered a few words Grandma would have disapproved of and then stared mutinously at the ceiling.

He was so very Done with it all.

Little brother cocked his head to one side and then handed him a fluffy cushion. A hot pink fluffy cushion.

THE hot pink fluffy cushion.

He looked up at the one person who really and truly Got This. Gordon smiled and inclined his head towards the much loathed eyesore he must have brought up its home from the infirmary. Prescient little guppy that he was.

Scott glared at the cushion. Then pressed his face into it and screamed and shouted for what could have been thirty seconds or thirty hours.

Eventually he was spent. Taking a couple of shaky breaths he sat up and threw it with all his strength across the room. It hit the wall of the stairwell and dropped out of sight.

“Better?”

“Mmhmm.”

Gordon gently lowered himself on to the couch and looked down at his hands, slowly flexing his fingers, one by one.

“Sometimes I was so crushingly bored with all the teeny tiny increments… it felt like I was going backwards… so I’d push until it hurt. Like, really hurt. Because at least then I had something to fight. Then at least it would be interesting, you know?”

Scott nodded, quietly. Then rested his head on Gordon’s shoulder.

“Think I’ve made it worse.”

“Yeah. You’re an idiot. Runs in the family, I guess.”

Gordon ruffled his hair and Scott growled.

“You’ll get back on track, bro. Just might have made it a bit of a longer one.”

Scott couldn’t summon up anything more profound than a sigh.

“Y’know… I could always keep you company. When you’re doing the exercises, I mean. Could make a game of it or… or something. If you wanted, I mean… you don’t have to if it wouldn’t…”

“It would. I’d like that.”

“Cool. Team Hip Flexion is Go!”

Scott made a valiant attempt at the audible ellipsis thing.

“The Upright Knee Raise Crew? The Abduction Gang? Aaah I’ll work on it…”

For the first time in what felt like weeks Scott’s mouth twitched into a grin.

“I’m going to regret this aren’t I?”

“You can bet on it.”

[wakahoeshi]

Hii! Could I get a scenario where Toji is taking care of reader when she’s on her period? Thank you!

(Hello Hello! Oh my I love that hell yes hehe! I'm in love with roommate bf/gf scenario so imma insert this idea into that if that's okay!)

You were laying face down on the couch in a plank position after you had taken some pain relief medication and put on a new pad. Your cramps were sending shocks of pain through your body. You groaned into the couch cushion and tried to focus on something else.

The bedroom door could then be heard opening and a familiar sleepy grunt coming from the hallway. Part of you wanted to look up to see who it is, even though you know it's your boyfriend, Toji.

"Y/N? There a reason you're layin' down like that?"

You heard him speak in a gruff and sleepy voice, having woken up from one of his common naps. You then just groan and turn your head to speak properly, looking to the blank TV screen.

"Bleeding..."

You answer with a single word, getting straight to the point. You heard footsteps approach the back of the couch and a large hand rest on your lower back.

"Sit your ass up and I'll take care of you, got it?"

It was a breath of fresh air to have a man understand how to take perfect care of you. This was also one of the times where Toji was his most gentle. He had extremely rough edges and a harsh personality, but he was good to you.

You groan once more and lift your head, turning your body so that you're laying on your back. You really didn't want to sit up straight, but you'd followed his directions.

Your eyes were squinted as you sat up,hearing a few noises coming from the kitchen. You wanted to turn around to take a look, but you'd rather not even move.

Time felt like it passed a bit slowly as you waited in place for a few minutes, hearing a familiar beeping noise from the microwave, making you smile. Footsteps approaches once again, rounding the couch.

Toji stood in front of you, his green eyes tiredly looking down at you. He held something in each hand, a heating pad and some simple lemon tea.

"I'm guessing you already popped some pills, right?"

He referred the the meds in his own way. You nodded and gave him a weak smile, first taking the heating pad and setting it in in your lap- up against your navel. Then taking the cup of tea, the perfect temperature to be able to hold.

"Hungry?"

You hear him speak again and you sigh, thinking for a moment. You were so foggy brained from the exhaustion and pain that your thoughts were a bit slow.

"Mm...Grilled cheese?

"\You look up and meet his gaze, it was soft, but he wasn't smiling. You gave him a pleading look, and expression he liked to see on your face. He let out a chuckle.

"Your wish is my command, princess."

He walked away, rubbing the extra sleep from his eyes. You follow him with your gaze with a smile on your face, settling into the couch and sipping at your tea.

After about 10 minutes or so and you just resting your eyes, you smelled something familiar and the sounds of cabinets.

Toji returned with a plate, a grilled cheese resting on it. You hummed happily and moved to set your tea on the coffee table, grunting at the sudden pain in your navel. You pulled back with a small whimper.

"C'mon, don't move so much."

You feel Toji's fee hand on your shoulder, pulling you back to rest onto the couch. He motions for you to take the plate and you so with a pained look on your face.

"C'mon, eat up so I can kiss you better." Toji spoke sweet but insistent tone as you feel him wrap the couch's blanket around your shoulders. You blush and take a small bite of my grilled cheese, shutting my eyes and sighing. It was good, as always.

You feel the cushion beside you being sat on by Toji and you immediately lean against him, his arm instinctively wraps around you.

"Thanks, love..."

You say before peeking up at Toji. He looked down into your eyes, free hand reaching up to smooth your hair back.

"Yeah, yeah, now you owe me~"

(I have never written Toji before fujvnevr if I made him to nice, I'm aware. My headcanons might be different than most idek, but it seems like you might feel the same as I do. I hope you like griilled cheese and lemon tea!)

(And I apologize if you wanted more physical touch! I can totally do that if you wanna send another ask lol)

[ryuttaeng]

pairing: shin ryujin x fem!reader, hwang yeji x fem!reader

summary: alcohol helps you to relieve your break up with your ex. you were sitting in the bar when some mysterious woman approached you, grabbing your drink from your hands.

cw: angst, toxic relationship, mentioning of alcohol, open ending

a/n: giving a try to writing again…

it’s been 6 months since you broke up with shin ryujin but you never fully recovered from that. you could only wish it was only a nightmare, a nightmare where you chased the feeling of being loved for long 6 months.

“ryujin-ah! i’m home!” you say, taking off your jacket and going to your shared bedroom, but the smile on your face immediately drops. “y/n!” ryujin loudly gasps, as she quickly covers herself and the guy with blanket. you look at her, tears are about to burst out, as you were about to have a panic attack. “y/n, don’t cry, please… i can’t see you like this.” ryujin says, you barely remember how she and her lover swiftly put their clothes on, as the guy rushed to leave the apartment. ryujin placed her hands on your shoulder, tears cascading on your face, “i knew it. we could have never worked out. we were never meant to be.” you whisper, looking at ryujin with furious and broken expression.

“i thought you were the one.”

“well, i’m not.”

you fix your hair, shakily breathing out. turned out that she used you as a coverage, while she had dozens of affairs behind your back, telling her lovers that you two had open relationship.

you take a sip of scotch, trying to get away from your own thoughts, but it not going to last long until your brain going to start bringing up them again. “you should stop drinking so much, y/n.” you hear stern voice behind you, making you turn around to look at the person talking to you.

your eyes land on woman, maybe older than you, looking fiercely, as like she’s going to… “like you seem to care anyway.” you shrug, closing your eyes. you feel her taking away your glass, making you a bit irritated, “listen, lady, i’m sober enough to process surroundings and capable enough to take care of myself. what do you need from me and who are you?” you say, looking at her, she looks kind of lost? probably, your response was not something she expected from you.

“uhm… let’s just say i’m interested in you. and i don’t want to get you in trouble.” she replies, now making you interested. you squint your eyes, doubting herself, “you’re worried about some stranger in a bar, all of a sudden? stop fooling around.” you say, standing up.

“okay, maybe i’m not just suddenly interested in you,” you pay with your credit card, wanting to go away from stranger, but you feel your head spin. “but you’ve had enough of alcohol for today. let me at least take you home.” she says quickly catching you, preventing from falling.

you open your eyes, blinking a few times as the sun rays are bright enough to make you wake up. you groan, wondering if you still have pain killers in your medicines… but the mysterious woman from yesterday appeared right in front of you. “are you gonna tell me your name or at least why do you care about me so much?” you say, looking at her from up and down. with makeup or not, she looks drop dead gorgeous. her feline eyes, her nose and orange dyed hair that looked like they got kissed by the sun. she was about to say something, but familiar voice interrupted her. “yeji unnie! where did you put my phone?” you hear some woman yell, your eyes are wide open, as you take a few steps away from, as you know now, yeji.

the other woman enters the room, revealing that it was shin ryujin’s voice. “y/n…” she says, and you only shake your head. you want to escape this whole thing, be excluded from this narrative, anything to stay away from ryujin, while she continues to speak. “i’m sorry, i-“ she starts, but you cut her off, “isn’t it a little late for an apology?” you snap at her, surprised expression is on ryujin’s face.

yeji need to think quick. she places glass with water and pain killers on the table, quickly rushing to you, covering from ryujin, which makes you surprised. “ryujin, leave this room right now.” yeji spoke in stern voice, but ryujin was too stubborn to easily understand her. “y/n, can we.. be more than this? i’m so sorry for leaving you, but i want to make this… make us right. i tried to contact you after you left, i was too harsh with you.” she tries to make it up to you, but isn’t it too late? “it’s not fair, ryujin. you’re not fair. you can’t just come back to my life and expect me to get all lovey dovey with you after what you’ve done. that’s not how it works.” you say and you feel yeji’s hand on your face, removing single tear on your face.

“shin ryujin, how many times i told you to leave y/n alone? even if i’m your friend, it doesn’t mean i’m gonna help you get y/n back. so you know, you’re a shitty person who doesn’t know anything about love. now get out of my room and leave us alone!” yeji’s grab onto you tightens, as she was about to sacrifice her own life to protect you from your ex girlfriend. younger woman stood there, even after all she had heard from yeji, looking… heartbroken? “trynna steal my girl from me? you know-“

“you know what? you dare to say she’s ’your girl’ after all you’ve done to her? she was never meant to be with you. you’re a moron who can’t even care about others feelings. i still wonder why im friends with you, because you even fucked up in friendship! get out of my apartment and never come back.” yeji yells, as she feels how you hid your head in the crook of her neck, instinctively patting your head to call you down.

as ryujin left, you finally fully exhaled, “thanks, yeji… i’ve never thought that someone would defend me like that, thank you, really.” you almost whisper.

it’s been 1,5 years since you’ve met yeji. she’s the most precious and sweet person, gorgeous inside and out. her cute smile and how her eyes turn into crescent shape when she smiles always melts your heart, making it flutter. if you could, you’d just stare at her for hours and…

“y/n! hurry up or else!” chaeryeong yelled, taking you out from your thoughts. you quickly put on your clothes, and you gladly make it on time.

chaeryeong and you greeted yeji, when she excused herself to go to the bathroom. chaeryeong sighed, turning to you with tired look, “you have such heart eyes when you look at yeji, makes me sick.” you look at her, furrowing your brows. “no, i don’t.” you witness older girl roll her eyes, “really? and you don’t miss her when you don’t hang out with her? which is like once in a while.” are you really in love with yeji?

“well, i miss her so much when we don’t see each other, i don’t know why. but i did.”

“is that so, y/n?” you hear a voice behind you, as you turn to look back, you reveal smiling yeji.

[streets-in-paradise]

Loving in the Shadows

Troy (2004) Reader insert fanfiction / Achilles x Mycenaean Princess! Reader - Part 24

Word Count 14 K

Warnings: Stalk(ish) behavior, unwanted posessive thoughts driven by anger. Possibly bad geography (I needed it for plot reasons).

Summary: During the absense of men, the women waiting in Ithaca find themselves fearing the presence of a mysterious shape that had apparently managed to abduct the visitant princess.

Playing with the two halfs of himself to keep the locals unsuspectfull, Achilles has secretly returned for his loved one in an improvised visit of uncertain motives driven by longing and a partial awareness of the difficult context she faces as he deals with his feelings regarding it.

Tags: @yerevasunclair @mysticaldeanvoidhorse @spideyanakin @spideyanakin-interacts @awakenedevildays @alaysha-of-middle-earth @zoegarfield @helie-brain

Awakening late in a palace temporally led by women, the young girl discussed with her handmaid the events of the previous night. The tale ended with the details of her talk with the seer. Despite she couldn't be as honest and precise as she would have liked to be, Polydamas was still convinced that her dream had been divine Intervention.

 The maternal aura mixed with marriage related symbology made him suspect it was the work of Hera, but the princess wasn't convinced of that. The approach of the divinity was too humble for the queen of the gods, who would have never accepted to take the form of a deceased mortal that once was a cheater queen. On top of that, it would be expected from Hera to simply deliver strict commands meant to be obeyed instead of testing the suitability for marriage of some mortal girl. 

It didn't make sense, but it wasn't his fault. She wasn't honest with him, or otherwise she would have seen herself forced to tell the great friend of Hector about her feelings for Achilles. He was a seer, but also a rival of her interests who wished to watch her rule Troy. 

Ereny was her best friend and longest term confident, together they could create their own conclusions. 

" isn't it obvious? ... You have survived your first encounter with your mother in law!" Was the girl's conclusion. " Cheer yourself, my friend.  Maybe you won her blessing. " 

The princess stopped searching on her things to decide the dress she wanted to wear that day in order to turn back and face her. 

" The Nereid Thetis ... Do you think it could be her? I suspected it, but I thought it was giving myself too much importance. She is his mother, she wouldn't visit me unless ... " 

The dress she had picked fell on the floor, a sudden surprise made her drop it. 

" ... Unless her son is thinking of making it official" Her friend finished the sentence for her. " Maybe Achilles is one of those men who secretly consult their mothers for everything. Wouldn't that be sweet? He is the most feared greek warrior, but he just has to know what she thinks before taking any big steps ... And maybe he has been telling her all wonderful things about you! He wants her to love you like a daughter because he is so in love with you ... " 

" Or maybe she has heard me talk about him, I have prayed near the sea quite a few times. " The lady corrected. " I don't want to have high hopes yet. " 

Ereny picked the clothes and handed those to her.

" I bet he misses you as much as you miss him. " She sweetly comforted her. " The borrowed clothes you sleep on need washing. " 

The lady chuckled and threw the garment on the bed. 

" I'm very careful ... Of all the times I had it on, only once I was naked underneath. "

The servant girl wheezed and it took her an instant to recover. 

" Behave like a wife washing his clothes. Why wait until being back when it's safer to do it here? " 

She had a great point, in the domains of her relatives she couldn't be seen washing men's clothing that didn't belong to her father and they had a perfect excuse to do the task without delayments.

" Alright, I'm going to offer Polydamas fresh clothes as payment for his services before he could suggest making me go on a date with Hector ... That should be enough to disguise it, trojans wear a lot of blue. "

It was a beautiful day, ideal to spend time outside. With the sun shining so tenderly clothes would dry perfectly and they would have plenty of time for relaxing activities. Penelope had the kindness of offering her a group of her own maids to accompany them and the princess allowed Ereny to select them by herself among her freshly made friendships in the palace. 

Lucky for her, Polydamas was among the trojans that remained in Ithaca while the princes were gone. His insistence regarding her must have upsetted Hector or perhaps he chose to stay because of not being well rested after she woke him up in the middle of the night. The offer for payment surprised him, but he didn't refuse and handed the handmaid the clothes he preferred to get washed. With their baskets full and in a great mood, the girls left the palace searching for the rivershore.

Only then the princess realized that she missed the chance to make connections with noble girls of the area. Meeting the trojans had completely distracted her from that goal and she have been spending more time dealing with problems that didn't concern her than actively helping herself. Perceiving the practical effects of her rank in her interactions with the servants made her realize her mistake. While Ereny moved with complete naturality around them, the maids of Penelope would distance themselves from her. Although understandable, their attitude was making her feel out of place. She was almost like a mere observant of the work they were doing for her.

She missed the disruptiveness of Melantho, that little girl wouldn't doubt in coming to her as a friend careless for sounding improper. Favorite of the queen, she was a slave girl with the mindset of princess somewhat stuck in between the two worlds through her privileged position. Her absolute lack of humility was concerning and could reach annoying límits, but at least she was fun to be around.

The silent humility of the eldests was a boring extreme, guessing that it wouldn't be like that for all the royals they served but the specifical weight of her crown was the cause of the awkwardness. Mycenaeans were guests to handle with caution, even if she had proven to be nicer than the king. Her personal choice of doing the walk to the river instead of requesting for a charriot that the slaves would have to follow on foot already showed she was a grounded woman. However, the bits of her personality they knew weren't enough to make her fully approachable in that particular context.

Waiting for the clothes to dry was going to take forever, not because of the weather but due to the odd interpersonal climate. Despite she insisted on washing the men's clothing by herself, leaving them space to work on some of her dresses, the girls hanged everything all by themselves on the rope they had securely tied from its extremes to two threes. Doing so, they noticed some oddities worthy of being questioned that Ereny couldn't explain.

" Do you happen to know by chance why has Polydamas handed us the clothes of two different men, if your debt is exclusively with him ? " She shamelessly asked her, taking the initative for the group hoping the princess will know how to cover her tracks better than what she could cover for her. " The girls may be a bit shy, but notice details."

Noticing that she wasn't angry when presented with such singular question relaxed them out of their initial fright and at least one of them dared to speak up.

" The seer is not broad shouldered. " Cora pointed out. " Well, he is, but not enough for that. "

The connotations in the comment expressed more than the simple meaning of the words.

" Not at least to nicely fit in that. " Lena added, testing waters with more mischievousness. " I don't doubt the trojans must be formidable warriors, but only Prince Hector has a matching physique."

It was the worst possible guess, but unfortunately a very sensical claim despite being far from the truth.

" Don't slander our new friends, trojans are fascinating." Ereny corrected, trying to deviate the speculation. " They have this weird accent, i think Hesione must have lost a bit of it with the years. It's very thick in some of them and they minspronounce my name but it sounds so fancy. "

The princess chuckled at the observation and followed her.

" Sounds more like Eirini . "

" It's fabulous! " She agreed. " I love it, wish i could keep it."

" I have been told by the man himself that I mispronounce his a little bit sometimes. " The lady confessed. " Specially when I'm angry or just want to piss him off, the continental greek accent makes it a bit stronger. More like Hek-tor, Hektor .... but he said i have a musical tone, so i think he likes it. "

Some of the ithacan maids giggled, slowly loosing the shyness.

" Is that what you want to believe? Fine, I don't mind. " The princess simply replicated. " I have nothing to prove, rumours only increase my fame. Penelope says that if people choose to assume the prince wants me, that will attract good prospects in the country even if it's just to assure the mycenaean throne stays greek."

" You won't find someone better, such man doesn't exist at least in this country. " Lena teased her." I know every greek prince, they all come here sooner or later, and they are all rubbish compared to Hector. If you don't want to marry him … Who are you waiting for, princess? A god to come down and impregnate you? "

It was such a well crafted joke that she couldn't get angry.

" It's hard to tell, I just don't think he is the one. "

An autentical disbelief reigned among them, so great that it compensated for their initial shyness.

" What's left for you to consider?" Clio asked, with surprising honesty. " Your highness, he is the perfect husband! Hector is handsome, brave and strong, but soft tempered when he has to … "

" … Incredibly rich, of a good family and you have already dominated his only brother. " Someone else followed. " He is also the miracle of a man that, having a recognizable advantage as a warrior, still chooses to behave like a polítician when the chance is given to him."

They had made an interesting point. It wouldn't work as intended, but she wanted to admit it was a good one.

" He has the power to get whatever he wants, but chooses not to. " The mycenaean recalled, with certain wonder. " If you put it in that perspective … I have never meet a man like him, that's for sure."

The girls got a bit excited for the wrong reasons and their approbal began to flow inmediately.

" Just for that?" Alaia interrupted, curious judging in her wondering tone. "If you grant us the pleasure, Hector would be one mycenaean king I would gladly kneel for. "

" … The most beautifull brown eyes I have ever seen. " Lena admitted, deep admiration slipping away in her slightly inconected words. " Imagine waking up every morning to find him staring back at you. "

The comment became a startpoint for a full conversation collectively constructing ideas for hours. Sitting in a round where the princess remained as center, the servants were doing their best to tempt her through their own romantic ideals. Unattachable for them, but a believed posibility for her.

Excited girls that didn't turst in her negatory, they believed to be helping her case.

" Horseback ridding through the trojan landscape! " Clio imagined out loud for her. " I bet that would be fantastic. "

" Or watching sunsets on the beach. " Cora corrected her. "That would be so romantic! I have heard their shores are magnificent. "

" Forget the shores! … Princess, think of the wedding night! " Lena shamelessly remarked, making many of the rest giggle. " I can't imagine a better way to spend it than giving yourself to him. Prince Hector respects slave girls, in all his time here he hasn't seeked to sleep with any of us. He must be of the rare kind of man that reserves all his passion for the wife. I bet he would love you like no mycenaean queen has ever been loved. "

A choir of complicit chuckling followed, but she remained unaffected.

" Regarding Hector I have only one curiosity and it is that I want to see his loose hair. "

The strange claim caused a bit of dissapointment, but all the questioning glances were begging her to explain it further.

" He is always wearing that wonderfullly crafted hairstyle, you never see him looking casual. It shows that he can't relax, he can't breathe. The ties are allways there, even if battle gets those a bit loose. "

Her eyes deviated from the group, staring in direction to the river before she would deliver her self reinforced conclussion.

" I don't want to marry him, I don't want to bed him. I just want to untie his hair. Metaphorically, I want to see how a carefree Hector would be like and nothing would change from that. Just two good friends sharing understandment of the represive nature within their roles in a world that constantly pushes them against themselves. "

Teasing stares followed her, proving the audience remained skeptical.

" Don't worry, my friend. I believe you. " Ereny rescued her while standing up to go check the drying of the clothes. " I know how you act when you have a crush, nothing like this. The mycenaean lioness turns into a kitten for the one she fancies. "

The accuracy of her words made her chuckle, since her servant was the only one there who had a precise idea of how to spot her feelings for a man.

" Take it from me, girls. If she still has the energy and focus for clever comebacks, he hasn't impressed her enough. "

And with that being said, Ereny patted her on the shoulder as she passed by. Little did she know that the cheerfull spirits were soon to fade.

An horrifying discovering surprised her as she intended to fullfill the task, the two companions she had on that had ran for the fear of it.

Behind the extended clothes, lurking between some trees, they believed to have seen a misterious masculine figure stalking all of them.

Panick took over and only the lady had remained calm.

" Maybe it's the god who came down to impregnate me. " She sarcastically teased the servants. " Any wanderer coming down from the hills can cross our path, we can't control it. "

" But it could be a satyr attracted by the sound of girls laughing carelessly. " Ereny theorized out loud. "… maybe hoping to get one away from the group. A dark cloak kept the face hidden and i didn't look down, but i don't want to risk it. "

Normally, the princess would have remained skeptical. However, the amount of strange events pilling up made her reconsider it.

" Fine, let me see by myself if the clothes have already dried, or you will have to carry the extra weight if there are still wet. "

Things got considerably worse once she raised up to finish the checking and ended up discovering an actual proof of their tale.

The garments of Achilles were gone and whoever scared the servant girls was the only possible thief.

" Man, satyr or olimpian god, he will have to get back what he stole. " The lady concluded, her fury beating the chances for developing panick. " I'm not leaving without it and, ríght now, I don't care what any of you have to say against that."

Silence reigned among the scared ithacans, warning her that she wouldn't count with any help from them.

" Fair enough, I'll get it back by myself. "

Her loyal servant intended to follow her, not only out of brave will to share the danger but because she knew what she meant. Those clothes were the reminder of her distant lover and the promise of seeing him again to return the borrowed item. Recklessness was an unusual attitude on her lady, allways measuring the costs before venturing into anything, but in that moment she was willing to risk herself for that simbolical meaning.

The princess was already running in the described direction and her friend felt powerless to make her stop.

" PLEASE, GET BACK!"

" I have to do this. " The lady explained herself. " Stay with the girls, Eny. If something happens to me, I want you to tell Achilles and Agamemnon to join forces in vengeance on my name. "

The joke wasn't nearly as funny as she thought she was making it sound in order to tranquilize her.

" I'm SERIOUS! " Ereny insisted. " Don't do this, he will understand. "

" We are on Ithaca, nothing ever happens here! " The lady replicated. " Why do you think Odysseus goes to create chaos in other kingdoms? He rules a happy, quiet island were he gets bored. "

A cracking sound got her wary, suspecting it could be the footsteps of the nameless shape she was chasing. She followed it on a rush, smirking with triumphal satisfaction.

The atmosphere got thetric enough as she advanced, increasing the sensation of being watched in a game of cat and mouse where she wasn't sure of really being the chaser. Thinking the shadow couldn't be far, but was yet nowhere to be seen made her feel uneased.

" Show yourself!" The princess demmanded in a slowly shaky tone. " It's me who you want, I feel it. You stole something I care about, you knew I would follow you for it."

She swallowed hard, then concluded.

" That belongs to the man I love. If you hurt me, you will have to face him. He fears no one, men or gods equally … and I trust no one to avenge me like I trust in his rage."

Inmediately afterwards she was looking arround in search for any sort of reaction to her threat. Nothing happened, and just when she was starting to accept the posibility of being alone, the misterious stranger emerged from behind with an overpowering grip.

The young mycenaean tried to scream, but a hand pressed against her mouth had silenced her.

Her eyes went wide when she recognized the metalic wristband of the kidnapper.

" Got you. " He taunted her, whispering close to her ear. " Miss me, princess? I couldn't wait any longer to be with you."

That husky voice, she would recognize anywhere. Part of her wondered if it was trully happening or a supernatural being had assumed the shape of Achilles for her. Both posibilities seemed equally unrealistic, but she had no way to explain it.

His hand stopped the pressure to keep her mouth shut, tracing her lips with his fingertips instead. Within the same action she felt him sniffing the scent of her hair and as he captured it, his exploring touch began travelling down to caress her neck.

" My love … " She purred, ecstatic like in a trance. " Is this some sort of illusion? Last night i dreamed of being in your arms. "

Her confession didn't seen to surprise him as much as it should.

" Was it a good dream? "

Telling him about it would have pushed the topic of comitement too soon, since in her dream she was about to get betrothed to him. Despite she remembered very well her conversation with Penelope and intended to follow her advice, she simply couldn't admit to him ríght there that she dreamed of being his wife.

Even less she could question him regarding the divine inspiration she suspected it had. If it was trully a visit of his mother, he may not know it or wouldn't admit it.

" A very good one. " She vaguely told him, with sweet excitement. " My mom was there, I remembered of her face! And she was approving our relationship! It was like if you were plotting to convince father of something ... "

Achilles turned her over so she could watch the dark hood of his cloak fall back, revealing his face.

" That sounds wonderfull. "

They remained in silence for an instant, just gazing into each other's eyes. He dedicated her his most charming smile and she returned the gesture.

Her beauty grew with each reunion, his imagínation was never enough to capture it completely. Time and separation had increased his desire, but that wasn't affecting his perception. He did find her even more breathtaking than the last time he saw her.

Achilles would never understand the country's obsession with Helen, when her lovely niece was ríght beside her. She was an underrated gem, and if other men would ever discover it, they were too late already because she was his.

The sweet confussion in her eyes made him melt. His lovely princess was looking at him as if she still wondered if he was real. He would have gladly provided a proof she wouldn't easily forgot, but she searched for it herself.

The mycenaean pushed him against a tree, taking her turn of trapping him with her body as she crashed her lips against his. The passionate kiss released all her longing, her hunger almost knocked him over. Such intensity was surprising coming from her, even for him.

Her ferocity was protective, as if she feared she could loose him at any moment. He sensed it, but tried to limit himself on just enjoying of it.

Blessed he would be of being kissed like that on every welcome back from war, he couldn't wait to have that.

She took his breath away, metaphorically and literally.

" It's me, i'm here. " He calmed her once he recovered. " I'm feeling we have learned a lot from each other. Your strategic mindset to twist rules brought me here, listening has taught me of your tricks … Did I teach you to kiss like that? "

She gave him a few more pecks on the lips as inmediate response.

" I must have learned with you, there is no one else who had ever given me mind blowing kisses like yours … among other things I never did with anyone else. "

He smirked to her subtle provocation.

" Do you think I haven't thought of loving you? Context is very tempting, here we don't have to worry about your father discovering us. "

Her glance adquired a glimpse of pretended innocence, acting as she didn't mean to hint that.

Achilles grabbed her hips to emphasize his point and keep her still, struggling to not ruin the moment.

" You said I couldn't follow you to Ithaca because he would suspect of us, but nobody knows I have arrived. "

Proud of himself as always, he revealed his clever twist on their problem thinking it would impress her.

" Who would believe it? Mighty Achilles, harvester of death, doing a secret appearance just for me? " She teased him, evidently flatered. " Some say you can't go anywhere without causing a scandall because you can't stand being unnoticed. Staying hidden, keeping a lower profile, is almost like torture to you. "

" Not a worst one than being without you for so long. " He simply confessed, making her heart race. " And in this way my presence will not outshine you … I heard men had started fighting over you. "

The specifical tease didn't sound like a jealous reproach, but she was worried for the transgiversed information he may had get from the people.

" Has your own fame never taught you that you must not believe everything you hear? A lot has happened, but new suitors aren't part of that despite how badly Odysseus wants it. He tricked me and i'm dealing with the consecuencies, but good things are coming out from that."

" I'll deal with that treacherous bastard later. " Achilles promised to himself out loud. " Can't say I'm not proud of you for cultivating your fame, I love that. I want the world to see how wonderfull you are, to overhear fools believing they have a chance with you … but they are saying the princes of Troy have came to dispute who will marry you. "

" I'm attending a diplomatical meeting, Ithaca is representing the greek islands regarding some commercial tensions with Troy. " She attempted to explain him what he already knew. " Odysseus has deceived my father and me, he kept hidden his real political and personal reasons. "

She removed his hands from her body to hold both with hers.

"I have nothing to do with that, I won't allow it. "

" Neither will I … and you are coming with me. "

Tables turned once more as he picked her up and started walking in an unknown direction.

" Are you insane? We can't just leave like this!!" She sensically protested. " This counts as an act of kidnap, even if i'm not resisting it. "

His childhish side emerged, refusing to admit jealousy but acting under its influence.

" Then those maids can go cry for Hector to save you." He mocked her in return, proving to have heard at least part of the conversation she had earlier with the servants of Penelope. " I'm glad to know Ereny is still loyal to me, scaring her wasn't my intention. I was aiming for the others."

" Turn back and apologise yourself. " She intentionally suggested. " You will make her suffer if i dissapear. "

" Don't worry, we won't leave without her. " Achilles tranquilized her. " … She is my gift for Eudorus. "

Being in his arms again in such unexpected way was like a dream come true, but that didn't make the situation less frustrating.

" STOP!!! YOU CAN'T DO THIS!! WHO DO YOU THINK FATHER IS GOING TO BLAME IF I GO MISSING? "

" Your dear friends the trojans will be alright, they have a plausible excuse to get away. "

" Agamemnon will call it a complot under the complicity of Odysseus. He would seek to destroy Ithaca and Troy alike! … He has once attacked Phtia for way less."

Achilles stopped in his tracks, but still refused to release her.

" I didn't tell you about that for you to use it against me. "

" I had to find out through Hector that you were born a prince, your father was friends with his." She quickly replicated. " You clearly haven't told me everything. "

" So you have been talking about me. " He teased her, deviating the topic. " That's sweet, you take our deal very seriously. "

" Why didn't you tell me that, Achilles?? " She insisted. " Were you afraid it would have given me vain hopes? "

The snarky reproach hitted him, but not as the callout she intended it to be.

" I feared you would have rejected me." Achilles confessed, not with ease to talk about such intimate fear. " … I don't care about that damn throne, I want you, but you could have believed otherwise. Experience has made you cautious, you have been hearing for so long about the traitor that seduced the queen. I didn't want you to see me as that man, to push me away thinking I'm with you because I want to get back the crown that Agamemnon stole from my father. He can keep it, I rather steal you from him to make amends."

Concious as she was of how things had once trully played out, the mere comparison felt disgustingly wrong to her.

" You are nothing like Aegisthus, i'm perfectly aware of that. " She conforted him. " You would have killed that despicable man if you would have meet him because that's how you are. Protective, ferocious … And i'm proud of you, proud of loving you."

" Yet we are loving in the shadows … and i'm growing sick of it." He admitted, then concluded. " I want the world to know you are mine. "

She caressed his cheek, then softly lifted his chin and gave him a peck on the lips.

" And you know how I wish to be forever yours! But trojans don't deserve to be blamed, neither ithacans pay for the trickery of their king going wrong. "

The warning didn't matter to him, used as he was to shred blood to get what he wanted, but he understood it was a limit she wanted to avoid. Still, that wasn't enough to stop him from resuming the march in the direction he had previously settled.

" People will keep dying anyways, you know it." He corrected her. " Where did this sudden strike of righteousness came from? Perhaps an active concience is what you get for spending too much time with Hector."

She didn't fall for the provocation, but teased its intentionality instead.

" He has the habit of accidentally inspiring people into doing the right thing. That's exactly why your friend has picked him for me behind my back."

Temporarily careless for the protests and attempts of persuation, Achilles kept advancing with his precious load in arms. Unlike she kept stating, kidnapping her ríght then wasn't his inmediate intention. Still, that didn't mean he wasn't going to steal her away for a while and he had yet to decide what was he going to do with her.

Impulsiveness brought him to the shores of Odysseus' kingdom. He needed to see her and they were not going to have a better chance for safe encounters any soon. The father wasn't there to get in his way, and his soldiers were easy to fool. His mother had brought him the news of the trojan presence, but he didn't mind about that untill circunstancies changed his mind.

He was taking her deep into the wild. There he had improvised a temporal hideout in the deepness of a cavern that looked like a tent of war camp in peacefull times. Once they arrived, he placed her on top of some extended furs on the ground while briefly admiring her understandable cluelessness. Vulnerability was bringing back some of the innocence that he stole and she looked lovely.

So dreamy that it was simply impossible not to kiss her before any glimpse of explanation would start to flow.

" Odysseus showed me this place, we stayed here when bad weather ruined our hunting. " He said ríght afterwards. " Not good enough for a princess, but is the best I found to secure some privacy."

She was looking at him attentively, reflecting great curiosity.

" How did you find me? You couldn't possibly know I was going to be outside washing clothes. "

Achilles took off his upper garments as if he considered to change back into the freshly dried ones she provided.

" Thanks for cleaning it, … but I do wonder why you had to. "

Some more sweetly delightfull shame got painted on her face.

" I wore those to sleep many times, hoping to dream of you. " She simply stated. " Don't try to distract me, you know what I mean. Eny thinks I have been visited by your mother last night. "

" She wants me to settle down, but she never says it. " Was his vague reply. " Seeing me get commited to a stable relationship has made her very happy. "

She attempted to hide her excitement with her typical jokes.

" I think my father would die on the spot after hearing about us."

He sat close to her while following the joke.

" One more reason to do it as fast as we can. "

She gave him a reprobatory look while also stiffling some chuckles and he exposed his back to her in a playfull way.

" Mind giving my sore muscles some attention? Besides from carrying you all the way here so you won't escape me, I had a few adventures on my way to you. "

The sample of her post battle cares he received in Mycenae had clearly stiked with him.

" If we would have stayed like i told you, the girls would have reached me scented oils to work on your skin. " She commented, tracing patterns on his shoulder with her fingertips. " Here i have nothing i could use to give you a proper massage. "

" Don't be so sure of that, I have something you will like. " He purred in response, pointing in the contrary direction . " Over there, in that vessel. "

The princess followed his instructions and found a small amphora containing perfumed oil of a foreign fragance.

" Where did you get this? "

" During my adventure. " He innocently recalled. " I had to take a bath afterwards so you wouldn't see me all messed up. "

He felt her pressing soft pecks on the back of his neck as fast as she returned to his side.

" Not like I haven't noticed how you enjoy of your warrior freshly arrived from the fight, but I thought my special girl deserves more of my effort in looking good for her. "

He almost had her exactly where he wanted her and she seemed so happy about that.

" You are effortlessly handsome, but I appreciate. " His princess thanked, before starting whispering close to his ear. " Now lay on your stomach and start telling me all about that while I fix you up. "

The occurence surprised him even more.

" Is that how you want to do it? "

Achilles smirked as he obbeyed her command, very satisfied with the outcome of his mischief that was about to get even better.

In order to perform the task, she got on top of him and straddled him with her legs.

The hero groaned at the sensation and she started rubbing his shoulders, slowly working all the way down to his back.

" I think I dreamed of this before. " He seductively confessed. " Only your hands were on my chest … and you were completely naked. "

She chuckled and pressed a bit harsher.

" Is that all you think about? How dissapointing. "

Achilles grunted in response to the touch and words and she kept laughing.

" You know that's not true. " He sweetly corrected her. " … But you also must be aware that being without that for so long has its hardships. "

She caressed the sides of his abdomen before keeping the focus on his back.

" I don't know, I have been without it my whole life. "

The innocent sounding comment was a total tease.

" Don't taunt me. You are barely a maiden and I'm unused to abstinences of any kind. "

She reclined enough to place a few kisses.

" I know, the sacrifice you are making Is more than what any woman could ask from you. No other man would have done such promise to me. "

She dared to take her confession a bit further.

" It does make me feel special when I think about it, you know ? « Achilles refuses to have any other woman on his bed because of me » Who am I to get such honor? "

" The one I love. " He sweetly answered. " … I bet you wish you could brag. "

The hero closed his eyes, allowing her to relax him with her so longed touch.

" So, aren't you going to brag about your feats? " The girl reminded him. " How was the journey? "

" I took a secretive route, so I expected dangers stumbling with bandits. " Her beloved began his tale. " My intention was not to leave trails, but things got complicated. "

She reapplied on him more of the absorbed oil to make the caressing more effective.

" How much? Did those fools hoped they could capture you and sell you as a slave because they didn't know who you were? "

His princess sounded like an excited little girl awaiting for the details of some epic story and he feared the reality would dissapoint her.

" They enraged me and i lost patience. " The myrmidon admitted. " Contrabandists, very eager to get rid of the evidence of their lootings in asian shores because the trojans were too close. I gave them a chance thinking I could get something nice for you, but part of their sale strategy was telling me that the princes were not going to interfere because they were too bussy with the pretty princess brought from the continent for them. "

She stopped the massage out of sudden, spontaneous reaction to realizing of the terrible coincidence.

" … You didn't kill them, ríght? "

Achilles noticed the change in her attitude with subtle concern.

" I let them talk, they were worried that the outcome would let them out of business. " He continued, forcing himself to adopt a cassual tone. " Those men were completely sure that the heir Prince of Troy would want to take that girl for himself, because only a few of them had seen her and they kindly described her to me with lascivious adjectives. That, I didn't mind. I had a few I could think about, but what I couldn't tolerate were their metaphores for the fear of commercial and political penetration of trojans in greek land. "

Time to fool arround was over, so she released him to clean her hands and lay down beside him.

" My love, you already know I don't have interest in that route. "

He refused to look at her for a instant, keeping himself still in the previous position.

" I didn't care, hearing them suggesting it made me loose judgement … My mother warned me about insulting the goddess of marriage and in their mocks I felt the threat of punishment. "

The princess touched his arm to get his attention back at her.

" Do you really think Hera could make Hector want to marry me just to curse you?" She stopped his trail of thinking. "Only unless she would want me in an unhappy marriage with a man nice enough to not be cheated on free of guilt. My bloodline is stained, two generations of cheater queens preceed me and everyone wonders who is going to be the next one. "

Achilles rolled over to face her and embraced her by the waist.

" No one will take you away from me. "

She smiled and snuggled against him.

" Trust me, he won't. I got him on our side. " She reasured him, then sniffed the scent of his skin. " You smell nice. We are going to need more of that. "

His criptic answer came on the form of a dubious mock.

" Sorry, love. I believe they will be unavailable for a while. "

She looked up in shock.

" Are you telling me you did kill them over those stupid comments? "

The ask left him feeling helpless, and very surprised of her reaction.

" I wanted to fight only two, but all the rest would have joined in aid of them. " The warrior defended himself. " They were despicable anyways, not a big loose you should take sorrow in. "

Her initial excitement transformed into frustration, but he could not find the reason for her to be upset.

" I didn't think you would care … Is there something I missed? "

" They were the lead Hector has been chazing since he got here and I intended to help him track, now we have nothing. " She confessed, with resignation. " We were close to discovering a thread of the network that has been threatening the Route of Copper, what could have been greater for the bilateral relationships than a stupid marriage."

He started to play with her hair before she could began to loose her temper.

" Don't worry, I bet some must have escaped. " He sweetly tried to comfort her. " I couldn't have killed everyone, could I? If the prince is smart enough without you, he would find them. And if he isn't, we will get rid of him. "

His calm tone only upsetted her more.

" I have goals of my own too, Achilles. I'm working hard settling political bridges. "

He would never display any sort of open jealousy, but what he had to point out was a logical concern from his perspective.

" I can't believe you are being so naive. What do you think is going to happen afterwards? They will demmand a wedding to close the deal, they allways do. "

" The would love to, but it won't work because in Hector's eyes i'm no different from a diplomat. " She insisted. " He doesn't have the slightest regard for my womanhood! I won his respects in the way a prince does in the council, not a princess in the feast, and that's hard to understand for many. "

For a brief moment he had a half smile of approval.

" I admire you as a strategist and as a woman … I love all of you. "

Her temper got slightly softened, but she had found a practical use for the advice she had received earlier and she was going to try it.

Behaving like a wife could sometimes mean to call him out.

" Could you then respect my work even when it doesn't serve you? I have enough of that in home and I know that's not what we want for us. "

She caressed his cheek to soften the blow.

" I won't blame you for what happened, there was no way for you to tell those men were of any importance … but I will, if from now on you try something on purpose. "

Achilles gave her his most innocent smile.

" I won't bother him, I promise. "

She tried to cheer him up pointing out her findings in his field.

" … Aren't you curious for other sorts of information I got for you? When I tell him about what you can do, he believes i'm exagerating, and he is the best warrior among the trojans. My father will never be able to replace you with him, no matter how badly he may want it. Hector thinks that your feats are impossible, the fantastical descriptions of a girl who doesn't understand how fighting works. "

She gave him a peck on the lips ríght before the conclussion.

" You are the best fíghter in the world, no man alive compares to you and your legend will outshine his. "

Achilles seemed lethargic to the good news.

" That won't matter if I end up under his command, and wanting his wife as if I needed her like the air I breathe. "

Even after all the lovefull words and sweet moments they shared, he still had the hability to surprise her like the first time.

" I know how important it is to you, but if peace with the trojans comes on the price of letting you go, then I don't want it. " The blond demigod concluded. " I will fight as many combats as it would be enough to keep you by my side. "

She leaned her head against his shoulder while giving him her sweetest look.

" You won't need that: Hector wants to go back home to his princess and this time I feel no amount of political pressure would be enough for him to accept sacrificing himself. "

" He clearly doesn't know of how persistent Agamemnon can be. " The myrmidon pointed out, speaking from his experience. " When I was a lad I despised the idea of fighting for him, yet here I am. "

It made her chuckle, probably remembering similar examples in her own past.

" For once, we will have a victory of mine to celebrate. Think about that" She recalled, changing the angle of the topic. " If i help Ithaca to get a good deal with the trojans, that would prove my father I'm not useless and Hesione will see i'm not failing her cause. For me, that's the equivalent to when you make entire armies surrender showing off your talent in the art of giving death. "

The description got his attention and he didn't let it pass.

" The muses would have a lot to say in your definition of art."

" Giving a good death takes skill, precision, and even kindness. " She cutted him off. " You are not a fighter known for leaving your enemies agonizing, or their corpses disfigured in grotesque scenes. In war, you kill to win, and that makes you the most lethal. While others paint messages on the bodies of the defeated like begginers, you mastered the most effective fíghting tecniques to reach the highest numbers in the shortests spans. Being killed by you is an honor, this balance between brutality and care is an art you have perfected like no one. "

She was once more about to trap him in his own words.

" I too love all of you: the fighter and the man. "

" Arguing with you is very frustrating, so I think I will grant you the win again. " Achilles concluded while caressing the side of her hip. " I will not try to force an encounter that could possibly ruin your mission just to brag, even tho I would love to present myself in front of that trojan prince and prove I'm the best. "

The sincere claims could not be not followed by some teasing.

" I shall let him enjoy of what he will never have " The warrior said, in a lower tone that sounded almost like whispers. " Although I have to admit I'm dissapointed of him. Part of me hoped you would have to break Hector's heart with your love for me. "

She followed his game, trying to figure out if the jokes trully masqueraded some jealousy.

" Seriously? It didn't sound like that to me a while ago, when you confessed you killed some men for doing vulgar metaphores about Troy dominating Greece that had me on the bed of Hector. "

" That's wasn't jealousy, I was sending a message to every mortal and inmortal considering standing in my way. " He defended himself. " I always knew Odysseus wouldn't support me inmediately, but now he acts as if he is trying to shield you from me. That means I'm running out of political allies, but I hope my old friend will get the message and change his mind. "

It sounded insane, but it made perfect sense to her and she was amazed. As a warrior, the only source of political pressure Achilles had was the sword, so in that improvised massacre he was subtly telling Odysseus to stop his scheme because he wanted her for wife.

" Don't play with me! I'm a silly girl in love that would hold on to the slightest hope, and you couldn't have figured out what you want so clearly this fast. "

Achilles had only to answer her with the simple discovery he had arrived to in his homeland.

" I can't stand returning from war and not find you there … Something is missing, for the first time ever I came back home and didn't feel fulfilled. "

The short moment of autentical vulnerability led to a sweet request. He couldn't keep talking, not at least without exposing himself too far, so he encouraged her to share instead.

" Tell me about your victories. I want to know everything."

While she understood the need to temporally close the topic, his demeanour reminded her of an encouraging detail. He valued his capacity to keep himself unpredictable knowing her as a perceptive behavioral reader. If he would ever seek to propose, he would want to do it in the most surprising cricunstancies. Signals showing he wasn't against the idea were given to her, but Achilles would only confess clearly a desire of making her his wife at the precise moment he would pick to make it real.

Not too soon to keep her in a frustrating waiting, neither too late when some suitor could get the upper hand.

In a matter of instants the dynamic of their encounter changed completely as he prepared to become a listener of her tales. Initially, she intended to emphasize the points of her political labour that were benefitial to both. For so, she started telling of the long whiles trojans would stay after dinner hearing her share his stories presented as harmless entertainment. In the response of the new public there was a profile being shaped that they needed to discuss, given how she was already working on a design that would better respond the objectives he settled. However, the warrior insisted on how he wanted her to speak of herself and the trojan reaction to meeting her.

Getting in details about the pointless pursuiment attempt of Paris happening at their time of meeting was a waste of time, so she only narrated the warning phrank on Odysseus' welcome knowing that would make him laugh. After that, she confidently admitted to have charmed the crew while keeping a friendly and respectfull approach of its leader.

All her anecdotes gave him the impression of hearing she was like fish under water arround the people of Hector. Everything Mycenae kept banned for her, they encouraged. From them she was receiving the kind of admiration she deserved, judged as herself and not as an extention of her father with nothing remarkable to present.

It was her big moment obtaining good fame on her own and even when he was very proud, his heart secretly broke a bit hearing her. Insisting on keeping her for himself sounded like a harmfull whim when Troy was offering her everything she ever wanted before meeting him. The prince didn't love her, but his city wanted her, and among them she had a chance to shine the way she deserved.

Her feelings for him were as strong as allways, but Achilles started fearing their love could be an obstacle in her own road to greatness. How could he, of all men, ask her to leave her ambitions behind to follow him? Him, crownless prince of a wild kingdom fighting his way into history. How could she still pick him over the chance of being the mighty queen she was born to be?

And yet, there was no glimpse of doubt in her choice of the path to pursue. When speaking of her businesses with Troy, it was always implied she was helping to clear the way for negociations others would have develop further. Falling víctim of the process escaped her thoughts, always keeping the hope of creating alliances that would make of those people their friends.

The invincible warrior could tell by the phrasing that his princess kept him in her dreams of all kinds. She was thinking of xenia bonding visits to the city where the two greatest heros in the world could befriend each other. Of meeting Hector's wife as the woman who already belonged to the rumored demigod and strategically befriending the couple meant to become the next royal marriage of Troy.

There was no thought escenario where he wasn't the man of her life, where they wouldn't be together sharing triumphs.

Before sunset would ruin their chances to move anywhere else, he had to accede in taking her back to a populated area and he did under the promise of sneaking to see her later as soon as possible. What he trully craved was to get at least one more night before safely deliver her back to the palace, but such prolongated absense would raise questions that she wouldn't be able to answer. If escaping with her wasn't a viable option, then he had to start serously thinking what was he going to do.

Returning to his homeland alone knowing what had been going on wasn't even considered. He could always show up to receive the hospitality of his friend, pretend his presence was a coincidence and claiming himself the author of the slaughter to frighten the trojans a right amount without ruining the political labour that have been made. It seemed a good idea, untill he considered he wouldn't stand the enviroment of the palace without succumbing to a possesive breakdown.

Having to endure constant irruptions of unaware people claiming she was the perfect match for Hector, teasing from his friends and other forms of harmless insistence while pretending to be an outsider neutral in the matter would make him loose his mind. He would recklessly throw away the secrecy out of pure rage, just to shut their mouths, kissing her roughly or pulling her to his lap. Any resemblance of self control would abandon him and he would end up ruining everything by sneaking into her room to take her like a desperate madman, spilling her virginal blood over foreign sheets with no honor.

Following her like a ghost untill the danger would pass and they could get at least a few quiet days to be together before her inevitable return to Mycenae was the best option. Untill he would get what he needed to make the impossible plead to Agamemnon, that was still better than seeing her so close to his vigilance.

However, that didnt mean he was going to let her go completely clean. Once they finished discussing the serious matters, speeches were replaced by a passionate silence. Achilles took his time to taste her with all his senses untill getting drunk of her to temporally saciate his own longing. The smell of her hair, the softness of her skin, the taste of her kisses and the sight of her beauty all combined to calm the beast inside of him. His extended teasing was followed by some carefully crafted marks he purposedly left on the side of her neck. Her loose hair would be enough to cover the evidence in case of trouble, but it was his peculiar way of self expression.

Achilles was self confident to the point of arrogance, no man was capable of making him feel threatened. Nevertheless, the situation was an increasing source of jealousy. He hated having to hide his love for her while hearing that the prince was receiving her on a silver plate and yet dared to reject her. If at least Hector showed signs of wanting her, he could just come out from the shadows and face him to compete for her like heroes were meant to. It would be a legendary contest that would put to shame the one once developed for Helen's hand. Something bards could sing about, but the trojan had no interest in competing against him.

Not even for the glory or his spot of stardom would the son of Priam react the way greeks expected from him. He simply didn't care despite the comparisons between them must have reached him too. He never intended to get in his way, not even to prove himself the best. For that, he was leaving him without reasons to justify his feelings of unease whenever it was being implied he could wed his princess. Could he be blamed for gossips working in functionality with the political needs? Even if an arrangement would be made later between the kings behind his back, the man did nothing wrong.

Precisely because he couldn't simply blame him and fight his way out of the problem, the righteouness of Hector made the situation very frustrating. Achilles felt jealous of his position as a prince finding such easy public and possibly familiar approval, but not entirely of him. He secretly wished for the gossipers to discover her marks with no possible explanations linking those to the Prince of Troy, even risking the sort of questioning that could raise.

His anger was with the world surrounding them, and his circunstantial powerlessness to let them all know that girl was his in a context where he couldn't just conquer her by the sword.

They pretended to part ways in public, but he still kept watching her movements from afar to make sure she would arrive safe. The citadel was not that far from the place in which he acted as he was leaving her, so her walk should have been an easy one. For most, it was, untill a small escort of magnificently dressed warriors intercepted her.

Trojans, he could tell by the foreign aspect of their armors. One of them, a lad of smaller frame, rushed to hug her enthusiastically. Achilles had no idea of what they were talking about, but the young man seemed very happy to see her.

Out of sudden, her route changed as that stranger guided her somewhere else with all the other men behind them. The myrmidon had no option but following them out of protectiveness, even despite she seemed trustfull of them.

The way in which the warriors obbeyed him implied that man had some sort of power over them, but he didn't look like he could be their leader. Guiding them inside a tavern, he made them look like security escort.

The warrior in disguise entered subtly after them and picked a solitary table with a good spot to watch his encounter with the lady. A closer viewpoint revealed the delicate features of a face never touched by war blatantly contrasting with the military uniform. A wearing for appearances, since he wasn't even carrying any visible weapons.

That had to be Paris, he thought, the useless little brother of Hector. His attention was completely focused on the princess, keeping a body language that invited closeness without being necesarily flirty, yet still touching her more than he was used to see. She didn't seem to mind, chuckling from time to time to his comments. The relaxed scene was of two friends sharing the latest news outside the límitations of the palace, nothing that should annoy him, but he simply disliked him.

Focused as he was, Achilles didn't realize he was staring too intensely at them as he cassually drank the wine brought for him. While the dark cloak offered some coverage, it also gave him a mysterious feeling that fed curiosity on the trojan once becoming aware.

She tried to stop her contextual companion from approaching, but he finally stood up and confidently walked towards the watcher.

In his perspective, the flamboyant attitude of the presumpted prince was hilarious. Achilles had the impression of being in front a peacock showing off his feathers, a man whose self determination was focused on keeping a royal appearance reflecting a nobility that was performative. It was a sad attempt to compensate for his lack of trully noble qualities, a spectacle.

" I must ask … Which one of us have you been looking with such intense interest? The lady, or me? " The trojan whispered with discretion, taking the empty seat in front of him without asking. " … I would understand if it was me. I have the blood of Ganymedes, so that's an expected price to pay for my flawless face. "

The eyes of Achilles were turbulent water burning with anger.

" Don't make me punch you, that girl looks stronger than you. " He warned at the provocation. " … Is she with you? "

The brunet smirked with complicity, quickly overcoming the fright.

" Wish she was, but we are just friends. " He confessed. " Are you not from here? That's not a mere merchant's daughter, she is the princess of Mycenae … "

Achilles simulated a mild surprise and sipped from his drink before replying.

" Mycenae? I pay my taxes to them, so maybe I have the ríght to a little peek. "

" I suppose that's true, but I have been looking for free. " The young man added, feeling at ease. " Courtesy of King Odysseus, since i'm staying in his palace."

The bragging inspired in the hero a way to give back some of the effort his princess was putting into the shaping of his legend.

" Lucky of you. I have never seen beauty like hers, and I have been in Sparta. " He cassually commented. " Trust me, the saids about their queen are a magnified fame. Menelaus exposes his wife everywhere, but Agamemnon doesn't let his daughter leave his palace often … Now I see why. "

His criptic phrasing intrigued the prince, but he reacted quick on trying to dissapoint him.

" Her shine is gelid, like the gold the Atreide hoards. " Paris warned through metaphoric language that Achilles found useless. " Never before I have been rejected so coldly and I doubt you could succeed from the ashes of my failure. "

The prince gave him a path on the shoulder, as if he seeked to comfort him.

" She is far away from your reach, don't expect much from a lady who has remained careless in front of the most beautifull man in Troy. "

Achilles gave him a taunting skeptical glance , then charmingly smiled for her as she arrived among them.

" I'm not sure of what you are doing, but I beg you to end it now. " She kindly scolded Paris, indirectly extending the warning to Achilles as well. " Stop fooling arround, we should be in the palace. "

Paris took the warning too lightly.

" We don't have to, I'm trying to escape from Hector. " He reminded her. " He has lost his mind when we arrived back only to find out that you were missing. Penelope is dealing with him because Odysseus requested us to stay out of the matter, and he has valid reasons. Something out of our understanding has infested this lands, all travellers must beware. "

The grim warning clearly incluided the man of the dark cloack and piercing blue eyes, but he seemed as careless for danger as Paris was of responsability.

" I shall not get intimidated by the colorfull tales of a pretty boy prince. "

" You should, some speak of an angry god claiming lives. " The trojan insisted. " We found an entire pirate crew slaughtered in one of the neighbor islands, no initial sight of survivors untill we did an extended search. "

The princess, still standing i'm front of the middle of table and in between them, managed to notice a strange change on his voice. For the first time since she meet him, the youngest son of Priam was speaking in a dark tone, as if he shared an horror tale.

" A wounded criminal embraced my brother's knees begging for protection of the very same people he was escaping from in the first place. He claimed the massacre was done by just one man, and King Odysseus mysteriously supports this theory … Some of my men, and so do I, believe no mortal could have done it. How could a single warrior attack with the ferocity of an army? "

It took a great effort for Achilles to turn his pridefull smirk into a fake expression of intrigue. His pride was raising to the sky hearing trojans could be mistaking him for a god.

Unstopable cockiness elevated his provocations.

" If I was a god coming down here, I would do it only to put some demigods in her. "

He glanced in her direction bitting his bottom lip, and she skillfully pretended to be disgusted.

" Unforgivable! What kind of man would do such vulgar claims for a woman that could easily get him beheaded? "

The glimpses of masculine complicity in the behavior of the trojan temporally faded as he protectively pulled his friend to his side. That action secretly granted him a bit of respect from the warrior, who expected him to drag her away.

Yet, the prince got a better idea than simply leaving the place to avoid the discomfort.

" In fact, we can properly judge that. "

She realized that he spoke of submitting him to the Judgement, but she couldn't do that to him the way she wouldn't hesitate with any other man. He was the onlyone whose answer she didn't want to know, partially because she was almost sure of knowing it. The riddle weaponized as test to know the priorities of a man between the most common masculine ambitions could reveal that Achilles would choose war over her.

It would prove Odysseus ríght about him, even despite that wouldn't be enough to completely break her heart. She knew him as a warrior, never expecting he would have to change for her. However, not wanting to get in the middle of his dreams with eternal glory wasn't the same as being ignorant of what those implied. If she would get told in the face that there will be something else always above her that would hurt her, even if she wouldn't mean to feel hurt. Aware from childhood that her father would allways pick his thirst for power over her, she didn't want to find herself repeating the cycle with the man she fell for.

" Paris, it's a game to play in feasts. Helen and I conceived it to cheat noblemen into revealing their truest ambitions so other girls of nobility would stay warned. " She recalled, trying to stop her friend while pretending she wasn't invested in the matter. " It looses its purpose being used like a simple game for the tavern, wasting it on vulgar men. I don't need to know the answer of this nameless errant traveller. "

Over time with her, Achilles learned to recognize patterns of her lies. Exagerating her royal demeanour was one.

" Don't need or don't want?" He teased her. " Are you afraid this vulgar man may surprise you? "

She kept the arrogance as an acting, but also as a shield for her fears.

" I already know what you will answer, so it would be a waste of time. "

Catching glimpses of the strange tension going on in front of him, Paris decided for them.

" I'm up to waste time, so let's play! "

Achilles finished the rest of his wine in one long take and raised up in acceptance of the challenge. The three went to the table that the royals shared, but the feeling of surveilance coming from the foreigner didn't allow the greek lovers any secretive exchange.

By indication of Paris, the princess sat in the chair placed at the center and each man took an extreme of the space. Then, the trojan prince assumed the role of narrator, commanding the mycenaean to play the voices of the goddesses describing their gifts. Hera, offering a throne of limitless power; Athena presenting her bliss to triumph in all battles. The myrmidon noticed how the girl changed manners, phrasing and voice tone matching her mental image of each deity.

For an instant, he found it increíbly cute. Even tho he never thought much about it before, he couldn't help imagining her acting like that for her children at storytelling time. Their children, if he would get to be with her.

Distraction out of the sweet thought happened when she represented Aphrodite seductively claiming she would give him the love of the most beautifull woman in the world. Exactly as beautifull as she herself was.

He chuckled to himself, aware of what she meant with that.

" Would I get to choose who that woman is, or would Aphrodite pick her for me? As a judge of beauty, I should be able to extend this faculty on mortals. "

Impressed by the clever move, Paris banged the table with his fist in frustration.

" That's not how it works! It was never said you could choose! "

The princess tried hard not to laugh to stay in character.

" Silence, mortal! The bargain is still on going. "

Eyes settled on the warrior once more, she put on her most charming expression for him while twirling strands of her hair.

" So, who do you think that woman would be? "

He smiled, resisting the impulse of chuckling a bit for her exagerated flirty mannerisms in the impersonation.

" The princess of Mycenae, only her I would take. "

Sticking the the role, she pretended dissapointment.

" Well, it's not of my concern if you would rather go for a lesser prize. " She mocked herself, in fake annoyance. " Fine, she would be yours as long as you choose me. "

Paris was mad with himself because that flirtatious twist didn't occured to him before.

" Who would you choose? " He asked directly. " That's what the riddle is about, and remember that the justification matters as much as the choice itself.

Achilles stared at the side in contemplative silence, carefully calculating his response. Guesing the purpose that the creators had given it, the game was pretty revealing on itself. Clever masterwork from the women of the Atreides, but he had the advantage of knowing them quite well.

" It's alright, you can say Athena and I won't get mad. " The princess interrupted his thinking. " I see it in the bright of your eyes, you appear to me as a man who craves glory above anything and wouldn't give it away for a wife. "

The conclussion confused Paris, who was thinking the opposite based ln the lustfull commentary that the stranger had made about her.

" Would Athena make me the next Achilles? " The cloaked man asked in a provocative tone. " Or Hera turn me into Agamemnon? Do the ones that choose Aphrodite get in the same box as Menelaus, who gave up his ríght to question his brother for the pretty wife he got him? The problem you present is too simplistic. Did it never occured to you that one man could want two gifts exactly as badly? "

The question raised an alarm in her.

" Life forces us to choose, so the rule is taking only one. "

" I want it all. " Achilles cutted her off with passionate arrogance. " Except for the throne, at least. Tell Athena and Aphrodite that I find them both equally beautifull because endless victory in battle leaves you empty if you loose love as a result of it once you already found it. No amount of wine and lust unions with beautifull concubines obtained in war would fill that void. "

The answer broke the rules, but he was staying true to himself and his rule breaker nature. She shouldn't have expected otherwise, but the well thought and heartfelt argumentation remembered her once more of exactly how she fell for him.

On the opposite perspective, Paris started to perceive there was something greater hidding in the strange appearance of that mysterious man who didn't even bothered in telling him his name.

His thoughts were deep, and he didn't speak like the brute he appeared to be moments before. The youngest son of Priam felt a weird fright believing he was coming out to them, and specially to her, as someone or something else.

" Who are you?" He interrupted them before she could comment anything on the given answer, visibly amazed. " I feel as if my eyes have been tricked by a spell all along just of listening to your reasoning. "

Achilles suddenly remembered of his existence.

" Carefull, Prince of Troy. Chasing reflections keeps deceiving you." He mocked him. " Now, if you excuse me, I would like to answer further to the lady with another riddle. "

Inmediately afterwards, his attention was fully back with her.

" Imagine you are commanded in a divine mission to judge who is the strongest of the gods. " Achilles started twisting the format of her game into a new reverse version where the judge would be a woman. " Three gods come down as contestants for the title and, given that you are a mortal, they compete bribing you with gifts. "

She chuckled and rolled her eyes, believing his try was pointless.

" That makes no sense, everyone knows Zeus is the strongest of the gods. "

" That's precisely why he shows up first to defend his title. " The warrior corrected her. " He tells you that if you choose him, you would get the chance to be the mother of a new bloodline, the most magnificent royal house the world has ever seen. Given that your family already has ancestry in him, this doesn't imply he would make you the children. He would find for you a perfect king, and together you would raise blessed princes for a new powerfull kingdom. This would make you a legendary queen, remembered by your glorious descendants shaping the world. "

She smirked, getting a precise idea of where he was going with that option.

Hector, her politically choosen perfect king.

" Next comes Apollo, offering the gift of prophecy. Highest power a woman can have over men. " Achilles continued, not missing her reaction. " Unlike the crown of Queen, this is one you can weild on your own. Kings, warriors and heroes would come to you consulting their fates; asking you what they should do with their lives. You would get to live free from men, but influencing their choices as a virgin oracle. "

His way to make each gift sound tempting was excellent, and she couldn't deny it showed great understandment of certain feminine sensibilities.

" Last, but not least, Ares appears knowing his typical gifts don't appeal to many women. "

Pretending that the hood of the cloak was starting to annoy him, Achilles tossed it behind to expose his face before continuing.

" Because of this, the god of war gives you an instant to admire him in all his glory before announcing he would find for you the mortal who resembles him the most. A blood thirsty beast, irascible and whimsical, but passionate for you as he is for Aphrodite. "

Emotional investment made him break character, explaining himself deeper than what was contextually necesary.

" … A man that would give it all to you, warrior that would make of you his inspiration to fight. When he will be at your side, you will be fill of affections and the treasures of his conquests. Without a throne, you would still be a Queen, because he would make the men he commands see you as one. When he would be away leading them, he would lay alone in his tent on long nights thinking about you. His every victory will be glory that will raise you up among the women of lesser husbands. Yours will be the strongest, most manly out there, yet he would never forget his softness with you. "

It made her blush furiously at the speed of a sweet embarasement impossible to hide.

Achilles saw his mission accomplished, but provoked her even more.

" What do you say now, princess ? Whose offer would you take? "

She appeared to be speechless, but her answer began with a simple critic.

" Well done, but you failed to acknowledge that an essential part of the Judgement implies the options you reject would later become your punishments. " She tecnically corrected him. " There are two levels of reasoning to consider in your answer: what would you wish to obtain from your choice and how would you rather your doom to be seiled."

Her cleverness would never stop amazing him.

" What a wicked sense of fun you have … "

" I come from the House of Atreus. " Was her simple reply. " I have seen how a royal house born under the bliss of Zeus can corrupt itself on human action, so i'm not really invested in that. Despite it's true that oracles are the only women of true power, they have no one to look after. More powerfull and free than Queens, but their lifestyle is even more isolating. Being courted by a warrior, on the other hand, seems the merriest and less determinating out of the three fates."

Her efforts to make the theorization feel autentically rational, as if she would be playing with a stranger that had just challenged her, were flawless.

" Now, at the next level, we have the punishments. If Apollo gives me the prophecy, Zeus could easily take away my capacity for persuasion and my gift would be useless. If I take his gift instead, Ares could feed the flames of war before the perfect kingdom promised to me would get its chance to raise and my perfect king would despise me for that. The offer of the god of war would make me loose my position of royal, and walk into an uncertain fate, but I would be doing it following a man of intense feelings who wants me at his side above any other. "

The lady made a brief pause, merely to tease her hero.

" … I would definitely pick Ares and his short-tempered, hot blooded warrior husband. "

Before the trojan prince could cheer victory and mock her claiming she had picked the equivalent of the same path he took, the course of events took a twist he found unexplainable.

Suddenly, the stranger raised from his seat and headed towards her. Without any explanations beyond the overwhelming force of his glance, he took her hand and pressed one harsh kiss on her knuckles ríght before leaving.

Passionate twist of a respectfull gesture, so intense that it perfectly replaced a full mouth kiss. Her lips parted slightly within the action, as if she would have instinctively responded like that could have been about to happen.

A miracle has been performed in front of his eyes: caught in her own game, the cold minded princess of the mycenaeans was left burning from inside out. For as much as he wanted to mock her about it, Paris was still trying to understand what had just happened.

By the time they were back at the palace, he had enough to present a working theory to his brother.

" Worry no more, Paris has saved the day! Ahhh, i love how that sounds, so comforting. Turns out I got the answer to all riddles! " He arrogantly claimed as he approached him. " She got lost and I found her safe, you can follow me ríght now to see her if you wish. It was definitely an accident, but I believe hers and ours are connected. "

Hector sighed with relief, yet remained cautious of the observation.

" What are you talking about? "

" Ares took down our enemies from one strike to show he is stronger than you because he wants to have her first, and the wedding rumours may have angered him. " His brother informed. " … I think the god of war is flirting with our beautifull friend. "