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peggyao3 · 4 months ago

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Relic - Pt. 5 "Prometheus"

PAIRING: Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x Unnamed Ambiguous FMC

SUMMARY: ✧༺༻ Dreams are messages from the deep ༺༻✧ A woman from the unknown comes to Feyd in his dreams and his nights become his days as he flees to the dreamscape to escape the nightmares that haunt his waking hours.

TAGS: 18+, smut, she/her AFAB FMC, vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, oral sex, Porn with Plot, Feyd-Rautha's black cum, Feyd-Rautha's big cock, Praise Kink, Body Worship, angst/hurt and comfort, drama, fluff, Frank Herbert would frown, some politics, implied/referenced (child) abuse ❗, Trauma, mentions of suicidal thoughts ❗, Healing, Strangers to Lovers, falling in love, Vulnerable!Feyd, Emotional!Feyd, Possessive!Feyd, Feyd is a sweet baby who did nothing wrong and I WILL pamper him, nurture not nature, Stockholm Syndrome but in a consensual way, lucid dreaming, implied/referenced cannibalism ❗, implied/referenced murder

WORD COUNT: 3.4k

Reposted from my Ao3 💕| Masterlist under construction ⚠️| Relic Masterlist

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

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Giedi Prime, 2 years later - 10,190 BG

He feels so-

hopeless,

broken.

One should think he has long accepted that there is no one up there in the universe to come and save him.

No one to soothe him at night, in his dreams, after he threw up upon being summoned to quench the Baron's appetite for power, even though Feyd-Rautha's physical appearance no longer meets his tastes.

But Feyd still goes to sleep every night with childish, foolish, laughable hope, only for regular nightmares to taunt him with their sticky embrace.

When he first stopped dreaming, he threw a tantrum, not telling anyone what riddled him. He was given slave warriors to kill and new blades to blunt on human bones. Under the pretense of a training injury, Feyd had ordered the Suk Doctor to examine him, pointing him towards his brain, secretly expecting a hole there, thinking his brain might have devoured itself because he doesn't deserve goodness.

But the Suk declared, there was nothing wrong with him. Nothing aside from the usual, all the invisible things that made him rot from inside.

After a week of lonely nights, he started taking spice before sleeping, knowing that the drug opens the mind, if to prescience then maybe to shared dreams as well. And it worked! Or so he thought the first night when he found a soft hand in his and the kindest voice among all of the stars whispering: "Look, doesn't this remind you of something?"

Every time he tries to speak then, he wakes up screaming, tangled in sweat-soaked sheets that smelled like cinnamon, before he can ask any of the burning questions or say what's been tearing his heart apart. His greatest regret is that he never said I love you back.

Eventually, he comes to a numbing conclusion. That is not his beloved. That is just a memory of her.

He had to stop ingesting when his sclerae became sullied with a tint of blue that bleeds into the irises. That was one year ago.

After the spice came a phase of intense studies in the bowels of Giedi Prime's archives, ignoring the admittedly quite interesting fact that centuries of his own House's history are obliterated and nowhere to be found.

Feyd learned that 23,500 years ago, in the year 13,402 BG, a strike by an asteroid devastated Old Earth, the birthplace of humankind, making it uninhabitable until it was re-seeded with plant and animal life 42 years later and became a natural park, for humans too.

In 200 BG, 10,400 years ago, Earth was once again rendered uninhabitable for centuries by atomics during the Butlerian Jihad which obliterated all thinking machines.

The first Zensunni wanderers, nowadays known as Fremen, are said to have originated from Old Earth and at some point fled in a grand exodus from planet to planet.

How does this information still exist, but not the location of the cradle of mankind among the stars? There are no more recent records. Humankind has spread itself so thin across the universe, the world of their origin has become naught but a fairytale.

Tonight, Feyd smiles at himself in the mirror in his room, trying to curl up the corners of his mouth like he used to, when a bed of white marble with blue pillows occupied by his woman was waiting for him and a fern was rustling in a terracotta pot. But his cheeks won't grow as round as they used to and Feyd despises how he looks and how his eyes stare back at him like frosty marbles, how his face looks like a gaunt skull with no life in it.

The lonely, demonic creature who stares back at him in the bleak mirror is denied access to the dream land and left to rot in his body, in his flesh prison.

Why does he still look at himself in the mirror every night and go to sleep with a tummy ache, only to wake up hollow and like his soul has been carved out of his chest and wonder:

Is she dead?

If she's dead, then what's the point?

Unconsciously he knows what he keeps searching for in the mirror. For any signs that he was ever lovable, or if his worst fears are true, that she abandoned him by choice.

There is no proof that Old Earth is not still out there, still inhabited by humans who may be unaware of how mankind has branched out across the galaxies.

On the other hand, there is also no proof that Feyd's woman has ever been real.

Among the stars

Tell me where you are. Tell me where you are. Tell me where you are.

"I am… here!"

Wallach IX, 10,190 BG

Around a heavy, wooden roundtable are gathered the Reverend Mother Gaius Helen Mohiam, flanked by the Bene Gesserit sisters Miriam and Sylvia, the Princess Irulan in place of the Padishah Emperor Shaddam Corrino IV, a face dancer named Thomin to represent the Bene Tleilax and Gwyn from Ix.

"If you can't stop behaving like animals, this discussion will never find an end!" The Princess Irulan's voice bristles in a way that makes Miriam and Sylvia scoff internally at their fellow Bene Gesserit. Thomin and Gwyn are by Bene Gesserit definition, in fact, animals.

The sun on Wallach IX stands already low above the hills and cascades hazy slants of light into the private conference chamber.

"I simply don't trust gifts from the sisterhood," Thomin smiles coldly, spindly fingers folded on the table.

"She is surprisingly useless," the Reverend Mother replies with equal coldness, gazing through the dark mesh of veil. "Why would we keep her?"

"I must insist on the historical value!" Irulan chides.

"Useless for us, Irulan."

Irulan knows her former teacher doesn't actually intend to hand the woman over to the Bene Tleilax for genetic horrors, so it is really only between her and Gwyn from Ix.

"Well, as a historian, I have undoubtedly the biggest use for her among the honorable attendees."

"I strongly object," says Gwyn. "Her technological knowledge could prove invaluable to us!"

Thomin chimes in. "Her genetic information might give crucial clues as to-"

"You just said you don't trust gifts from the sisterhood, so why don't you let those who wear their real face talk," Gwyn jibes at the Tleilaxu face dancer.

Thomin deflects: "What I would like to know is why the Guild deemed it appropriate to hand over such an exceptional flotsam to the Bene Gesserit."

"Of course, they entrusted us with it," Gaius Helen Mohiam snaps. "Who else would have been capable of dealing with whatever could have been inside the sarcophagus?"

That makes the attendees grow quiet for a moment.

"What did you say her first words were?" Gwyn asks.

"I am here," Sylvia says. "Naturally, we only found what she said later."

"I'm sure she would like a friend," Irulan ponders. They're still talking about a human being after all.

"Or would you like a friend?" Miriam barbs.

"Enough of this shit," Thomin's chosen face twists into an unpleasant grimace. "I didn't come here to argue with children. Who gets the relic?!"

The woman sits in the school's relic chamber by herself, knees folded against her chest, staring up at Vincent van Gogh's Starry Night, or what's left of it, rich blues and swirly stars reduced to faded colors. She wonders if this is what will become of her too in this strange new world. Still, the painting is enough to stir her imagination.

She often thinks of her good friend and beloved Feyd and the many nights they've shared before she entered the long sleep and left him behind. She left him to die in the fires of earth from which only the cowardly could escape as pioneers aboard spaceships, venturing out to colonize the solar system when Earth suffocated beneath the smog of climate change and the rubble of bombs as starving nations tore each other apart.

Expensive suicide is what the people on Earth had mocked the cryogenic pods which would take the pioneers to Mars and Titan as sleepers to reawaken and colonize the solar system. A new home, but only for scientists and engineers.

Some cynics even called their cryo pods sarcophagi.

Often she wonders if Feyd was able to complete his life and escape from his vile uncle, if he found the happiness he so deserved. She can't bear the thought that her poor, hairless Feyd might have eventually died of the cancer she was sure he had. She had never asked him because he had never mentioned it. It had never felt right.

She had abandoned him to live with her family in a new world. Now she is here, 24,000 years late after drifting through space in her lonely sarcophagus, sending a distress signal every few days. And she has no one. Such fundamental loneliness can only be met with apathy and busying the mind.

After the war from which she had fled in the year 2100 as of her own calendar, eventually came what is now called the Butlerian Jihad, many many centuries later. Men had revolted against artificial intelligence and now there are no more computers, only human computers. Her first reaction to that had been: In this new age, no data is anonymous unless you are the mentat. No calculation can be conducted unless you own a mentat.

She pensively traces a spot above her right ear and finds herself mourning after the necklace that was taken from her after she had thawed.

She hasn't come much further with the history books yet. There is so much to catch up on and the language first had to be learned, which had consumed most of her first one and a half years on Wallach IX. Now, two years after her arrival, she feels somewhat solid in Galach, wistfully surprised to find relics from so many Earthen languages in it.

A subtle knock on the door pulls her out of her melancholic trance and her gown rustles around her legs that are used to wearing trousers as she stands. An acolyte has come to pick her up and parade her to the assembly of people who are anonymous strangers to her. In her head, a mean voice calls it an auction.

She has already cried her quiet fury and understood that autonomy is as real as daydreams in this new world. On a chess board full of intricate pieces, she is only a block being pushed here or there, but in truth she doesn't even belong on the board.

Outside, looking to the left, she finds a fern swaying softly in a bronze pot and the memories of loving nights cut through her with such unexpected vehemence, she can hardly breathe. Guilt suffocates her.

However their dreams had passed through space and time, they are no more, and she is all alone and that thought overwhelms her as she pads through the garden with its trimmed hedges and softly gurgling water. The size of the universe overwhelms her. The number of inhabited worlds overwhelms her. The amount of history to catch up on makes her feel like a mote in God's eye and the hostile kind of hospitality from the 'sisterhood' since her jarring awakening fills her chest with a numbing rage.

In a moment like this, this order of manipulative women would pledge to recite the litany against fear, but she refuses to condition her body in such a way. And with that mindset, she hasn't even made it to the rank of acolyte.

"To be completely honest, I don't like the fact that most of the great Houses have been purposely excluded from this," Thomin notes and that makes Irulan wonder too.

"And which Houses are you missing at this roundtable?" The Reverend mother coldly inquires, her patience running thin.

"If the Harkonnens find out that we-"

"Harkonnens?"

Five heads whip around to the new presence in the room, only the Reverend mother moves a bit more slowly and drones: "Good. You are here."

"She looks just like us," Gwyn is baffled.

"Of course, she looks just like us!" Gaius Helen Mohiam snaps. "What did you expect?"

"Something more primitive perhaps, I don't know."

"You're disgracing your own intelligence in front of our guest."

"Did you just say Harkonnens?" The guest in question inquires, her expression so blatantly haunted that it would make even the most untalented acolyte grow hot with shame, because anyone taught by the sisterhood should be able to mask that.

"Yes, child, what do you know about the Harkonnens?" Mohiam probes.

The sisterhood has let her pick her own studies after teaching her the basics of Galach. She had gone for science first, then art. The reverend mother had disapprovingly clicked her tongue, as contemporary politics and religion would have been the right choice. It proves unequivocally that the woman is of lesser intellect.

"Do you know someone named Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen?" Her voice trembles like the strings of an off-tune baliset.

"He is the na-Baron of Giedi Prime?" Gwyn replies as if the inquiry was a test for the attendees.

What no one expects is for the relic to break down crying so hard, she sounds like a wounded animal, primitive like Gwyn had suggested, producing gut-wrenching noise. The Bene Gesserit sisters turn away with disdain, except for Irulan whose face is painted by confused compassion.

The woman's legs give out and she unceremoniously squats down on the floor, covering her grimacing face with her arms. For the longest time, the attendees think she's merely sobbing, but after a while the sound warps into tearful but distinct laughter as she sways herself back and forth.

"He lives now?" She peeks at the blurry roundtable through the haze of tears. How could this be? Across not only space but time they've communicated simultaneously in their sleep. According to Einstein's theory of relativity, time is supposed to stretch and compress depending on relative motion, but never run backwards. Feyd should have never been able to talk to her.

Unless he really is her macroscopic, quantum-entangled twin, a phenomenon which Einstein himself had described as 'spooky action at a distance', though that was referring to microscopic particles.

"Speak plainly! Who is Feyd-Rautha to you?" Mohiam demands.

Too bad, Irulan catches herself thinking. The woman already has a friend.

"I saw him," she yells. "I've talked to him so many times, I dreamed about him every night back home, for months! He's my friend. I love him." It is ridiculously easy to admit that, even in front of a council of semi-hostile strangers.

"Hm. Tell me something about him, child."

She draws a quick and trembling breath. "Feyd is a-about this tall, blue eyes, pale skin, no hair, v-very sweet and kind, oh God, I miss him so much, please just bring me to him~"

"That could be a lot of people, but definitely not Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen." The reverend mother purses her lips under her veil. "Tell us something more distinct."

"He's being abused by his uncle," she snaps with such venom that even the old Bene Gesserit's fingers briefly clench in her lap. The roundtable grows still and only the woman's shoulders heave with hard breaths.

"Then he is Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen."

Upon that, the woman nearly bursts out laughing. How ridiculous, how cruel that this is what defines him in public and makes him recognizable, not all the sweet traits of his. People of power know of his abuse and no one deems it appropriate to take action against it?

The reverend mother continues. "Your dreams were visions of the future. This is what we call prescience. That you are prescient surprises me."

"They were dreams, not visions! We've talked about current events and each night we could remember the previous ones." She struggles to find the right words in Galach. "We had agency!"

But the reverend mother isn't listening to her anymore, coming to a staggering conclusion with her frighteningly sharp wit. If she speaks the truth, everything points towards their relic being a primordial Bene Gesserit, erratically skilled even without any training. Mohiam turns to her sisters and ponders: "If she was capable of prescience, perhaps her nervous system developed other abilities as well."

"You suggest she performed Prana Bindu while contained in the cryo pod?" Irulan concludes.

"It would explain how her cells survived it for 24,000 years," Sylvia muses. "Her cells should have degenerated irrevocably thousands of years ago."

The four Bene Gesserit in the room turn towards the woman and ogle her like a thing from a curiosity cabinet. If she weren't so emotionally frayed, she would feel flayed by the many scheming glances.

"This changes everything," Mohiam decides. "The guests may return to their guest rooms. I wish you a swift and safe departure tomorrow."

"I thought we had a deal," Thomin complains and kicks his chair back.

"We were far from having a deal," Mohiam says coldly.

Gwyn laments: "At least let me have a look at the cryo pod or the necklac-"

"A swift departure." The reverend mother repeats and tilts her head subtly towards Irulan, emphasizing that this includes her too. Irulan's lips quiver briefly before she straightens her back, casting a longing look at the disheveled woman before she leaves with the others.

As soon as it's only the three familiar faces from the sisterhood, the relic yells: "I refuse to stay here. I don't want your training or even your hospitality, I only want him! More than anything in the world."

To her surprise, the two younger ones flinch and glower, as if suspecting her voice might break out with new unforeseen powers.

"You love him?" Sylvia doubts but is swiftly silenced by the reverend mother with an acute sweep of the hand.

"Quiet," Mohiam addresses the relic "There's no need to throw a tantrum. You will be brought to him as soon as the circumstances allow."

"I- Oh." The woman stands helplessly like a lost child, hands clutched in front of her pelvis as fresh tears well and soon stream down her cheeks and quivering lips. She had expected more resistance, more cruelty.

"Go now. We will discuss more soon." Dumbstruck, she does as instructed and pads out of the conference room, mind caught in a limbo of disbelief and rejoicing.

The three Bene Gesserit remain.

"She must be controlled. I don't have to remind you that one of her first inquiries when she understood Galach was about computers and where to find one."

"She will be distracted, if she really loves Feyd-Rautha."

"Isn't that careless?" Miriam is baffled. Obviously, they shouldn't let the woman go to Giedi Prime and slip out of their immediate reach before conditioning her mind and body to a proper training.

"Her DNA is mysteriously rogue but powerful. That's all we need to know."

Miriam and Sylvia understand now. The reverend mother doesn't intend to train the wayward woman from Old Earth who is too obsessed with her old ways to indulge in the Bene Gesserit conditioning. She only means to breed her with Feyd-Rautha, so that the child may be trained. Since Lady Jessica disobeyed the sisterhood's order and denied them a daughter, there is currently no fitting prospect for the Harkonnen heir anyway.

"And if Feyd didn't share her visions?"

"We will soon find out. Even if he didn't, perhaps he can be warmed up to someone who is so... blatantly and bizarrely smitten with him." The reverend mother can't help the tiny twitch of her upper lip, betraying her disdain.

"So, we will contact House Harkonnen?"

"No," Mohiam declares. "The old Baron will deny their union if we are the ones who initiate. Let the rumors spread and let Feyd-Rautha do the work for us."

In Greek mythology, Prometheus (/prəˈmiːθiəs/; Ancient Greek: Προμηθεύς, [promɛːtʰéu̯s], possibly meaning "forethought") is one of the Titans and a god of fire. Prometheus is best known for defying the Olympian gods by taking fire from them and giving it to humanity in the form of technology, knowledge and, more generally, civilization. Prometheus is known for his intelligence and for being a champion of humankind and is also generally seen as the author of the human arts and sciences.

A/N: The time it took me to get my Dune lore sorted and throw around the dates from the confoozing BG/AG calendar was longer than it took me to write the actual chapter 😭 Also, Frank Herbert, please don't slap me, I tried to match the vibe of the secret meeting in the beginning of Dune Messiah, but I have nothing on thee, Frank Herbert 🧎

P.S. No breeding in this fic, but the Bene Gesserit sure do dream of it.

TAG LIST: @nostalgichoya, @forgedfromthestars, @sweetiee-o, @missbingu, @charmingballoon, @sebastianswallows

Do let me know if u want me to tag u 👉👈

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professonalarttheclownfan · 1 year ago

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Hannibal Lecter-

Little Lamb

Hannibal x reader

- mentions of a suicide attempt & mental illness.

You had been a patient of Dr Lecter for about a month now, his first appointment being with you when you were still on the ward after a attempt to take your life. The man who you’d come to know as Dr Lecter was kind to you, his voice soothed your thoughts and you began to look forward to seeing the peculiar man each week. You tried for a little while to not let your mind wander to how attractive you found the older man, but then again it pushed other far more darker thoughts aside for awhile. And you indulged yourself into thoughts of the amber eyed gentleman.

————-

“I hope that you’ve been doing as we discussed in the last appointment”

His eyes flicked to yours and stayed there, he had an intimidating undertone to him, an intensity to his presence, which made you crave him more. Your skin prickled as if it was cold, shuffling in the seat to try and distract from the feeling of him staring at you.

“Yes, I’ve been trying to. The thoughts are as intrusive as ever. Although I’ve found a new vice that’s sort of helping. When I think about them the thoughts calm for a while. But they soon come back. And they come back with vengeance”

Your voice was quiet, as it had been all your life. Slightly above a whisper but not by much. Being softly spoken would often mean people would ignore your existence. But not Dr Lecter, he gave his full attention to you when you spoke. Although it’s his job, you’d like to think maybe, just maybe he enjoyed hearing your voice too.

“The intrusive thoughts are getting more and more graphic, it’s like my brain is willing me to become so disturbed I’m past being helped. A punishment for not being dead. I still wish it had worked.”

Your eyes never dared to meet his unwavering gaze, you knew he was looking at you, it made your skin burn in the best possible way but caused you feel even more insecure then you’d ever been. What he must think of you sat there covered in scars of your own making

———————

His eyes never left you as you sat in a rather large chair in his rather large office, the room oozed class & money. When ever you were in his presence his eyes found you and he couldn’t bring himself to rip them away. And anyways, he enjoyed watching you squirm under his gaze he could quickly tell the affect he had on you. Your appointments with him were something he looked forward to. He was drawn in by you he learned a lot about you during your appointments even making a conscious effort to ask about you outside of what the appointments were supposed to be about. Being under intensive treatment meant he got you for an hour 3 times a week to his delight. He couldn’t quite understand why a beauty like you wanted to be 6 foot under. He always thought people with such beauty also held a disgusting amount of vanity and self importance. But not you, he enjoyed your beauty, and he found himself not wanting to slice you open and eat your body piece by piece. And that scared him. He didn’t want to stay professional with you, he wanted to patch that dark little mind of yours and claim you as his.

“your thoughts are getting worse? what sort of things are these thoughts about? Don’t be afraid to tell me” He asked. Jotting down what ever notes he needed.

—————

“About hurting people, about hurting myself. Images, awful images. They’d flash into my head, just like before. But instead of them just being about me hurting myself they’re ones of me hurting others, before I’d never had that I’m scared I’ll give in” the welling of tears made room ripple and blur.

“I just want to get better. But that’s never going to happen. My only relief is thinking about someone I know I can never have. Someone who wouldn’t even look at me. They just see me as a sick patient and even then my brain punishes me for it. It hurts me but they make me feel safe, they’re the only person that listens to me”

Your tears ran, wet and warm down your face. Hannibal had never felt an ache in his heart when seeing someone cry. Usually someone’s cries meant nothing to him. Especially the ones of those he killed. But with you, he wanted to push you up against a wall and make you feel anything but sadness.

“Whom is it that you think about?” He asked with out thinking, he cursed at himself for being so abrupt when you were upset.

You dropped your head allowing your hair to fan infront of your face, you wanted to tell him, tell him about how you wanted him to make your skin blaze, how you wanted to feel his lips on every single part of your body, how you wanted him to take every waking and sleeping moment of your life and fill it with him.

“I’m afraid to say Dr Lecter I fear he may never want to see sight of me again”

Hannibal watched as you raised your head, tears streaked your face, your cheeks turned pink and your lips plump, and yet he still thought you looked beautiful. Broken yet beautiful.

He wanted to kiss you, so deeply as if he would engulf you whole and allow you to be safe.

“Why would you think that? you may be in a bad place, but you are person that holds a lot more then what you’re going through. I’ve learned a lot about you y/n your beauty is merely only the surface of you, you are intense yet so gentle. Your brain holds great torment, yet you have never laid a hand on another despite what your mind makes you think. The mere fact you acknowledge that hurt, the fact you wanted to take yourself away in fear of hurting others shows me more about you then you think. I apologise if you think this is inappropriate of me. Only a fool would never want to see sight of you again”

His face never changed, his eyes held the same undivided intense gaze. But he meant every word of what he said. Y/ns brain couldn’t comprehend a man who had everything was speaking so highly of someone who had nothing.

“Dr lec-��

“my little lamb call me Hannibal, I insist”

You body shook lightly,

“Hannibal, it’s you. It’s you that I think about. You fog my mind daily. And you make my thoughts go even if its for a little while, it’s worth it.”

Hannibal got up slowly, placing his glass on the small table beside him. You nerves through the roof as he hadn’t said anything. Had you misunderstood him? Was he simply being kind out of pity?

His hand reached for yours, large yet soft and well manicured. You accepted his hand and allowed him to pull you up.

“You fog my mind too little lamb”

He gently caressed your cheek, taking in the feeling of you finally being pressed against his body. He pressed his lips to yours, savouring how sweet you tasted, mint mixed with an undertone of the expensive wine he’d poured for you earlier. Your mind finally at ease, for the first time in a long time.

“Now, don’t ever take yourself away from me.”

#hannibal #hannibal imagine #hannibal lecter #hannibal x reader #hannibal lecter x reader #imagine

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toomanyideasandfandoms · 7 months ago

Note

Hello!

I bring brain rot to you once more! Imagine Clorinde being the one to find the notebook from the death seeking creator and just how many of them are her name.

Being the "vanguard" of Fontaine's military of sorts, it's her primary duty to deal with stuff like executions and stuff, so she tends to be the one sent out whenever there is Impostor sightings!

Also, imagine she was also the creator's favorite (she is mine for sureeee... aside from the buttons doing Celestia's work, ofc-), so maybe she finds that in the notes at first! Here is a little concept of what it could look like.

"I met Clorinde today. She was prettier than she looks in game! The graphics didn't do her enough justice at all... but she killed me, too. She did it without hesitation, and I... I thought she would trust me. I put hours into her build and player her for days, I spent thousands just to make sure she was perfect... and she hates me. Just like everyone else

Maybe there is something wrong with me..."

And finally, imagine that the creator didn't know of the whole Impostor deal until a couple hundred deaths later, so they thought there was something actually wrong with them instead of the whole impostor au stuff.

For some fluff, maybe she tries to be the one to bring food and like comfort towards the creator as they heal, and try to build the trust they had on her, and like she's wholesome about taking care of her and like she slowly falls in love with them as time goes on and stuff :3 (maybe becomes yandere too, you never know~)

Anyways that's it for me for now! Have a good day, fwen!

🍌anon

Ohhhh that is GOOD!!!!

So for the Cloride stuff I don't got much too add, I genuinely love it! I'm not too familiar with her character (I know them better once they become playable) but I can see this happening 100%! And honestly she probably would be asked to be the creator's bodyguard since she was/is Furina's.

Also yes yandere, Death Seeking au very much will always end in yandere even with the wholesome mental healing because the fact that these guys would be obsessed to the point of killing those who looked like the creator (very much something I would see as something The Primordial One and Celestia put as a rule in order to make sure creator can't come back at full power) means they were never gonna be normal lovers.

But oh oh that bit about creator not knowing. You my friend brought up such a nice idea honestly. That would severally fuck up creator's mentally GOD. The confusion, the hurt, it would be so much more intense due to them having no clue as to why. They probably wouldn't be able to comprehend it at all once the truth got out and the characters tried to reason with them.

Like wdym you only were killing me to worship me?? Wdym there's a creator? Yeah that's the Primordial One. Hold up what are you stopping? No don't stop! It was getting fun! Don't take the only purpose I have away from me!

That is so deliciously fucked, full course meal of mental anguish and trauma.

#sagau #genshin sagau #death seeking creator #others ideas #cw death #🍌anon #idk why i sounded like a angst vampire at the end #lmao

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three--rings · 6 months ago

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So it's time for my "alt-right dudebro gamer" Dragon Age opinions.

(Note: I'm a 45 year old womanesque queer person who mostly plays indie and Japanese games.)

(To further my cred I was super excited to meet and hear Karen and Patrick Weekes talk about this game in development at Havencon a couple years ago...it's a small queer con in Austin.)

Dragon Age is my all-time favorite game series. I adored Inquisition, though DA2 has my favorite characters overall.

My opinions about the gameplay reveal are:

The environments and background graphics and effects look awesome.

The character design still bugs me quite a bit. The faces, ESPECIALLY the female faces look Disney/anime/Overwatchy in structure. The textures looks a lot better in game than in that trailer. I miss my Not Particularly Pretty Female Characters. They have sameface now.

There's something off in the lip syncing. Mouth animations looks weird. I can't define it more than that but I noticed it with multiple characters and it through me out.

Varric's hair annoys me SO MUCH. Someone pointed out he looks like Blackwall and now I CANNOT UNSEE.

The structure of the game/quests/whatever looks fine, this reminds me of all the moments running around Haven at the beginning of Inquisition. Some of my least favorite moments, but yanno.

The combat. I'm very worried about the combat.

I am 45 years old and I have arthritis in my hands from gaming and knitting. I gave up knitting to keep gaming. I cannot play some action games. Like Hades, I tried but simply couldn't continue more than an hour because of the pain. And that's with my hands in good shape these days.

Some action games I can play, but only on easy, and sometimes only if I limit my playtime. This is simply a reality I've had to get used to, but it does kill me sometimes.

Do you know how enjoyable it was to pick up Baldur's Gate 3 and be able to put it on a higher difficulty, to be able to actually struggle through combats and have to use tricks and my brain and try and fail and do it again, all without worrying about my hands? Makes me think I need to replay Origins again.

So I'm concerned. The combat in this game is focused on attack type, dodging, parrying, countering (according to bioware)....all stuff that requires quick and frequent button mashing, which is what I can't do. So I'm looking at a game that I can probably only play on easy and maybe even not then? In my favorite game series.

The question we don't really know is how different it will be from Inquisition, and I find it hard to tell from the footage since we can't see what buttons are being pressed. But I'll say that while I love it, Inquisition was the game that first hurt my hands. It made me aware of the problem and made me have to start limiting my activity.

IDK . I just hate the idea that devs have that turn based games can't do well and are inherently not exciting.

Fucking Solas motherfucking killed Bianca! That was the first time in these reveals I've been 100% reacting as a fan. NOT BIANCA!!!! HE MUST DIE!

Oh I did like the Rook in the gameplay and his face looked good. Again I feel like it's the character design and not the engine that is the problem.

As for the plot, it's interesting that Solas has gone from Main Antagonist to Opening Antagonist and I wonder if he's actually going to transition to an ally later in the game to undo whatever the fuck has gone wrong in this clip.

I do still have some worries about the writing. "She's greatest detective ever and she has a lead on Solas." So do you think that lead is the giant glowing thing in the middle of the city spitting out demons? Did you need a great detective?

And basically nothing I've seen so far has super MOVED me, as someone with serious connections to this world and the characters, other than the fucking Bianca moment. I'm hesitantly curious about some of the new companions. And if the griffon thing had come at a moment other than me going WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH THIS? in the trailer I may have been a lot more excited.

So yeah, call me a hater or whatever. But that trailer reveal CRUSHED me emotionally. I was so depressed the rest of the day Sunday. These are my true reactions to the gameplay footage today. I don't have an agenda, other than I want the game to be good and I want it to do well and my confidence in EA and Bioware is at a very low point.

I've tried to keep a realistic mindset this whole time, but keeping in mind HOW MANY PEOPLE have left Bioware, how few OGs are left, the constant turnover in leads, the game being scrapped and redone like twice from scratch. And the game industry as a whole at this time, I have to be somewhat skeptical in general.

I'm not a skeptic overall, I was both a Cyperpunk 2077 enjoyer (but not apologist) and a Starfield defender and frankly there was a lot less reason to be skeptical of those games before release. So am I going to say "well I've been a Bioware fan since KOTOR 1 released, so I'm gonna hype it up and not point out flaws I see?" No. I'm going to be honest.

I'm not a casual Dragon Age enjoyer. I can't react casually to this stuff.

Will I play the game? Almost definitely, but am I going to wait till the release reviews? Probably.

#dragon age #dragon age: the veilguard #da4

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sunwarmed-ash · 4 months ago

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🔥Sinful Sunday🔥

Chapter 3: I want to scream I love you from the top of my lungs, but I’m afraid that someone else will hear me

Ship: Past Harringrove-> healing Harringrove, maybe harringroveson too, tbd Rating/TW: Graphic depictions of violence, child abuse, domestic abuse, homophobic language/violence Tags: Angst, neil hargrove sucks, billy hargrove needs a hug, and two hot boyfriends if I'm being honest, post season 3 & 4-Billy lives, Billy and Steve are ex's, Eddie is a worried friend(for now), hurt/minor comfort, dissociative/Major Depressive Disorder Billy, Preview:

Since knocking his father unconscious and tying him up over an hour ago, Billy’s smoked through an entire pack of cigarettes. His brain is struggling to keep up with the latest turn of events so he’s spent most of the hour dissociating. He hates that this is his life. Hadn’t he suffered enough already? How did it just keep getting worse?

By the time he finishes the last cigarette in the pack, there’s a knock at the door. Optimistically, it's the cop, here to take his shitbag father away.

Instead, it’s fucking Steve Harrington. Who is the absolute worst person to be here right now, seeing as Billy just sent Max and Susan over there to keep them safe!

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Billy spits furiously.

“Hopper’s at my house,” Steve explains, hands already up in surrender.

When Billy’s face doesn't change, Steve’s own temper flairs. “I wouldn’t have just left them Billy!”

“Why not?” Billy scoffs cruelly, “You’re good at that.”

It’s harsh, but Steve deserves it. Steve’s abandonment ruined him.

His comment works. Steve’s previous heat extinguishes and he folds in on himself. He stuffs his hands into his pockets and tries to make himself look as unthreatening as possible.

Billy hates that it's working on him.

“I’m sorry Billy.”

#sinful sunday #whump billy hargrove #billy hargrove #harringrove #steve harrington #eddie munson #billy x steve #steve x billy #stranger things #stranger things fic #find me on ao3 #sunwarmed ash #buy me a coffee?#links in pinned #reblogs are free ways to support me!#i post new stuff every sunday #neverender

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chaoticdelinqueerwithglitter · 11 months ago

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Let me tell you now, you're the lucky one

(Enemies to Enemies Who Fuck)

(HaruKaku in Bonten timeline)

(some past-MuSan and past-KakuIza with a subtle RanOmi bc why not, it's my fic and I don't have self-restrain when it comes to multishipping)

(link to ao3 in case some one preferes to read it there)

Warnings: Dead Dove: Do Not Eat!

All of them. Bonten is their own warning. Substance abuse. Really unhealthy coping mechanisms. Depression. Mental health problems. Suicide. Major character death. (it's Bonten, they all want to kill themselves and some of them succeed, okay?) Mentions of unsafe sex, but there is no smut or graphic depiction of it.

I tried to not be too graphic with any of this topics, the focus is mostly on what the characters are thinking/feeling. But it's hard anyway, tbh the last scene was actually difficult and painful for me to write. So please, don't take the CW lightly and prioritize your mental health!

Angst and Hurt/No Comfort.

MANGA SPOILERS!!!!

Notes: HaruKaku came as an hilarious idea. Because they are hilarious, let's be real. Soulmates archnemesis, doomed to hate each other in every timeline. But then Bonten happened and of course, I ended up writing some angsty shit instead of focusing in all the other moments when they are hilarious. Kudos for me, yey! 🥲

This is canon complicit (again, is Bonten, beware!)

It alternates from Kakucho's POV to Sanzu's POV. I did that thing again of using "Haruchiyo" when he's in his most vulnerable state because for some reason I like playing with his name like this.

(English is not my first language, be nice please 🙈)

(the art is from @just-sp-in-inginthevoid who is in part responsible for the archnemesis brain riot, but mostly the hilarious part, tbh)

Is not that Kakucho enjoys Sanzu's company. Or that the pinkette gradually started to grow on him. Quite the opposite, to be honest. He hates him a little bit more every day, every shared mission, every time they had to spent hours together.

But with Sanzu, he feels. He feels intensely, he feels with passion. Even if it's twisted, at least he's not empty anymore. The void that threatens to devour him seems to disappear when he's around the other man. Sometimes, Kakucho wants to murder him, but he knows he can't. Others, he wonders what would happen to him if he also loses the only person that it's still able to provoke an intense emotion on him.

Hate is better than apathy, isn't it?

They hate each other passionately. Sanzu finds his reactions too funny for stopping it, always willing to go a little further, to push Kakucho to the edge. It's too easy to pick on him, making him forget about his allegedly righteous patience.

It's disgusting, how Kakucho thinks of himself like he was better than the rest of them. So Sanzu enjoys to proves him wrong, to show him that they are the same (even if he can't stand that fact either, seeing that burning rage in those heterochromatic eyes makes it worth it).

Now that he thinks about it, it was probably a matter of time, considering that his king denied them the right to kill each other, they needed to find a way of releasing all that build up anger. That's probably why isn't that surprising when it finally happens.

It looked like a regular night. Sanzu was high as a kite, trying to forget every one of his lives. Kakucho just seemed to be there, he can't recall exactly why, some type of report, but he didn't pay any attention to it at the moment, too intoxicated for actually caring for something that could wait until tomorrow.

“Why are you still here? You like me that much or what?”

The pinkette man says, slurring his words.

“Are you that high? You know I hate you.”

Is the harsh answer that he earns. It's brutal, but real. Kakucho's honesty has something that grounds him to the present. It's sickening. It's exactly what he wants right now.

“I hate you too, don't worry.” He laughs, finding his own words amusing. “Think about it, me and you. Just us, hating each other all night long.”

“You're crazy.”

“And you didn't say no.”

(If he was more honest with himself, he would admit that he was trying to find another way of punishing his broken mind and his body. But he's not.)

And oh, it actually feels good. Kakucho fucks him with the same brutality that talks to him. He couldn't bear any type of gentle touch (specially not from someone that it's so linked to Mucho, but he isn't thinking in that, he promised himself to forget his old captain a long time ago).

There isn't any type of care between them, only spite. Both men are too broken for having the ability to love someone again. Indeed, this was precisely what he needed. This is perfect.

The next day, Kakucho feels nauseated. How couldn't he? Sanzu was high as fuck, too intoxicated to give proper consent to do anything. So even if he was also a little drunk, even if it wasn't his idea, Kakucho feels guilty for what happened.

Until Sanzu just laughs at his poorly attempt of apologizing, mocking his morals once more. He was about to punch him in the face, but the lingering guilt doesn't allow him to do it. Not that one more bruise would make a difference, actually.

Both are covered in so many marks that more than sex, it looks like they tried to kill each other. Yeah, maybe he should stop feeling sorry for Sanzu, considering this. Maybe that was the best way to get rid of that not-so-pent-up hate.

And it works. At least for a while, it works. Until it happens again. And again.

Is not that they are lovers (Kakucho wants to puke with that idea). They just fuck from time to time. That's all. They hate each other, they wish they could kill the other. But they can't. So, sometimes, they fuck.

Their relationship is not pretty. At all. Or better. If Kakucho had to use only one word for describing it, he would say “real”. They don't lie to each other, what would be the point? Both are too able of seeing between the lies, they are too similar in so many ways. But that raw honesty only makes it worse.

Kakucho knows it's a mistake, that he shouldn't care about Sanzu's fate (he brought it on himself and he doesn't seem to have any complains). But Mikey is worse every day, the king is falling and his loyal dog is falling with him. Kakucho needs to do something, because the uneasiness he feels every time he sees them is now living rent-free in his mind.

That's why, one day, Kakucho tries. He's trying to find his clothes, dressing quickly, wanting to get out of this room that only makes him feel sick. Then, he looks at Sanzu, his pink hair scattered on the pillows, a lazy and satisfied smile than only appears after sex (and never lasts). There is some twisted vulnerability in how content the other man is while lighting up a joint, as if seeing these new swelling (all this pain) on his skin was something he wanted.

(Kakucho can't shake the feeling that Sanzu is using him as another way of hurting himself and that infuriates him so fucking much... Maybe that's the real reason why he decides against his best judgment and opens his big mouth.)

“Is not worth it.”

“Uh?”

Sanzu looks at the other, not sure if he actually heard something. He just wants to smoke and relax, to feel the post-orgasmic satisfaction while it lasts, to enjoy the pain in his body (one more of his little punishments).

“I said is not worth it. Dying with Mikey.”

If it had been anyone else, Sanzu would shoot him in the face just for saying this. Thinking like that, talking like that about his king is treason. It should be. But it's difficult to pretend Kakucho's isn't right about this when, unfortunately, it's the only one Sanzu trusts with Mikey's well-being (It's the one he calls every time Mikey is being suicidal again).

“You wish you could be me, you wish you had died with Izana.”

Sanzu spits his words, burning with all the rage he feels every time he has to acknowledge the reality of how is Mikey.

“That's not what this is about-”

Kakucho is unable to finish his sentence, turning pale in anger when Sanzu cuts him. 'Good'.

“You're a selfish bastard, aren't you? You want me to be like you, stuck here with no purpose, jerking yourself with the memory of a ghost. Pretend it's because of your high morals, that you're worried about me or some other bullshit. But you're just another selfish bastard. And you envy me.”

If it had been anyone else, Sanzu would shoot him in the face. But he can't (he wants to, oh, he wants it so much, but he can't disobey Mikey's orders). So, instead of bullets, he uses his words.

“At least Izana cared about me.”

Is the last thing he hears before Kakucho slams the door. Sanzu laughs maniacally, throwing the first shit he can find to the place the other man was a few seconds a go. He's momentary satisfaction long forgotten, replaced only by hate (and pain, but one that he refuses to see).

The worst part is that in a sickening way, he trusts Kakucho. They don't lie to each other, that makes it so much worse, because both of them know that what the other said is true. He hates him, he hates him with every fiber of his body. He doesn't want this words to be true, he can't accept that. He needs to keep living in this denial, to pretend Mikey is fine (to pretend he doesn't keep mixing this Mikey with that in his nightmares, to pretend they don't look so alike).

It's been three days. Three whole days since Mikey's death was splattered on the news (no one seems to care about Takemichi's death, even with all that footage of how the hero tried to save the most dangerous man in Japan). Kakucho cares, but he knows damn well that he wouldn't be welcomed within the hero's friends, so he would have to say goodbye in his own way (again).

During this days, Kakucho learned some things, like the fact that apparently everyone had some kind of contingency plan in case this happened (no, for when this happened, all of them could see that Mikey was more on the edge every day). But nobody spoke to him about it, keeping him in the darkness, the only idiot that didn't prepare himself for the end. Well, not the only, he knows that, of course he knows that.

(Sanzu would have killed them in the blink of an eye. Anyone who dared to imply that Bonten needed to be prepared to function without a king.)

Kakucho understands the need for secrets, of course he does. The idea of Mikey falling would be considered treason a few days ago, it was taboo to think like that. At the same time, none of them wanted to acknowledge it, like saying it out loud would make it more real. He can't even be mad when the Haitanis (obviously) thought about him on their own schemes, making sure Kakucho was also safe. Or as safe as any of them could be now that Bonten was crumbleling.

It's been three days. Bonten is crumbleling. Mikey is dead. And Sanzu disappeared the same day. Everyone knows he's dead, but they don't say it. Not in front of Takeomi, who's still desperately looking, going out in the rain for hours. Trying to find something, some clue that leads him to his little brother. Clinging to the hope that he's still alive somewhere. That he's going to find him, high as fuck, but alive (Kakucho thinks being able to find Sanzu's body at all would already be a miracle).

Only Ran is able to convince Takeomi to rest a little bit, promising that he and Rindou will help with the search as long as the older man gets a few hours of sleep. Takeomi just nods, mumbling “Today is his birthday, Ran. Is his fucking birthday and he's out there alone.” while Ran drags him softly, a concerned look plastered in those violet eyes.

Kakucho hates it, hates having to see all this sorrow around him (again). He doesn't lament the loss of Mikey and Sanzu, he's incapable of doing it. Grief took his heart for hostage a long time ago, there is nothing more for him to mourn.

More than anything, Kakucho hates himself, because he's jealous of Sanzu. He knows he shouldn't, but he hates that the pinkette man was right about him. He envies Sanzu, who had the privilege of dying with Mikey, of dying with his king.

Kakucho hates the Mad Dog even more right now. But he's aware that once this hate fades away, he would feel empty again. So he clings onto this feeling, he needs this rage as a motor to keep moving.

It doesn't matter if this energy is fulled with rage, he needs it. He can't fail his friends, what's left of his family. Kakucho has to keep living even if he can't remember how being alive felt anymore. Even if he's more dead inside every day.

So, over and over... Kakucho would keep living.

The rain keeps pouring down without truce, Haruchiyo shrinks inside the leather jacket that was always too big for him. Now the only thing that makes him feel protected from that annoying rain (from the world). To be honest, he isn't completely aware how he managed to recover it from his penthouse, but it seemed important in that moment.

The jacket and the old picture that he's still clutching in his pocket, the only two things he cared enough to take. He doesn't even need to look at it to see the four happy smiles stained with watermelon juice. Two pink haired kids that could be confused by twins, one with a shy smile, the other with a cheerful one, happy to be included with his brother friends. Next, a fierce smile showing two small fangs, already a force of nature at his young age. In the middle, a blond kid with the most radiant smile Haruchiyo ever saw, capable of making everything shine just with his presence. Full of life, of dreams. Full of potential. Brighter than the sun, a true leader.

But that was a long time ago and, once again, Sanzu is the only one who remembers. The man staggering in the rain is now the only survivor from that photo. Only him, alone in this fuck up world where nothing and no one matters anymore. Not without Mikey. Even Bonten can burn from what he cares.

He keeps walking (it feels more like floating for him, floating in a cloud of pain and numbness at the same time). Until he finally reaches his destination, an abandoned bowling alley. Sanzu enters in some kind of trance, not sure if he's dissociating or too intoxicated. He doesn't care.

He sits down exactly in the same place his king sat down. How many days had passed since that moment? One? Two? Ages. It certainly feels like ages for him. Haruchiyo hugs himself, trying to make space for his legs inside the big comforting jacket. Completely curled up. And he cries, he cries like he hasn't allowed himself to do so in the last ten years.

He's starting to sober up, he can feel it. Because the flashbacks are coming back. Shinichiro jumping from that bridge. Mikey jumping from this exact building. Mikey falling from the stairs, that awful “clonk”. Mikey jumping again from this building.

Haruchiyo screams, holding his head with both hands, begging the images to stop, unable to continue reliving those memories. He needs everything to stop, to be quiet, his shattered mind can't take it anymore.

He takes out a small box from his pocket, looking at the content. Everything he needs is here, he knows how to do it, how to make sure he's not going to wake up from this trip. His stupid hands are shaking while he gets the syringe ready.

For some reason, he suddenly remembers Kakucho's words a few months ago. He hates it, he hates thinking in that fucker when he's about to die. But the other man was right, wasn't he? Mikey never cared about Sanzu, he spent years of his life trying to keep his king alive and it was all for nothing. Everything blew up in one night.

A manic laugh escapes between his whimpers. Of course is that, he's fucking jealous. Sanzu is fucking jealous because at least Kakucho got to held Izana's hand when he died, he got to comfort his king in his last moments. Sanzu didn't had that, Hanagaki was the one holding Mikey's hand. Always that cockroach, never him.

What did he expect anyway? Haruchiyo is just a failure. He never deserved to be the one making his king last moments less painful. Of course, he should had known. He failed everyone. He failed Shinichiro, unable to protect Mikey, to be the friend he promised he would be. He failed Mikey, watching him falling into the darkness, becoming the same empty shell he already saw in a past that never happened, and doing nothing about it.

Sanzu doesn't have anything left. He also killed his own chance of happiness a long time ago (he also failed his captain, didn't he?). The only thing left for him is to disappear, to follow his king. He's going with him, because he's being following Mikey for so long, that he doesn't see any other choice. He's going with him, because he doesn't deserve to keep living when he couldn't save Mikey.

But it's fine, the drug is already kicking in, his body feels more relaxed. Even his mind seems to be quiet, almost in peace. He looks at the old photo one last time, before drifting out of consciousness, looking for safety in the inner part of the leather, pretending it smells like cheesecake.

It's fine, because at the end of the day... Haruchiyo was just a failure.

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prismatica-the-strange · 7 months ago

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If It Hurts You Bad, Put It On My Tab, I Can Pay It Back Ten Fold | Death By Anyone's Hand but His Would Never Taste as Sweet

Warnings: 18+, fluff, angst, jealousy, hurt/comfort, no smut but hints of a sexual relationship, slightly inappropriate use of the force

Another one that took on a life of its own. I reference lore I haven't talked about yet ie. Jeintians have purple blood because I said so

Word count: 4.4k

Only Place I Call Home by Every Avenue | Dividers by @saradika-graphics

Freida groans when Anakin rolls on top of her, away from the sun beaming in through the skylights.

"I should get going soon," He mumbles, burying his nose in her hair, "They'll be expecting me back soon."

"No," She argues, her arms wrapping around him.

"Precious," He chuckles when she nuzzles closer, her claws sinking into his back just enough to sting, "Freida, I..."

He pulls back just enough, or he tries to anyway, to look down at her, but she surges up to press her lips to his throat.

"I love you too," He sighs, "But sweetheart-... Frei..."

The whine she gives him when he pulls her arms away breaks his heart, "Don't want you to go..."

He swallows hard and pulls her close again, muttering against her hair, "I know."

He doesn't want to leave either, he'd gladly spend the rest of his life wrapped in her arms.

It's an hour later that he finds himself pulling on his cloak and she stops him by gripping his arm.

"Freida-"

"I know," She rises to her toes to kiss him. Her fingers running through his curls as she pulls away, "Come back safe to me."

"I always do," He assures her with a small smile.

She nods but the quiver of her lip gives her away, "I love you, Ani."

"I love you more, Precious," He says teasingly, trying to keep her from crying, "Sweetheart, it's okay, please don't- How... How can I make it better?"

She just shakes her head as he wipes away her tears.

"I'll be back as soon as I can, I promise," He insists, cupping her face, "Come now... I knew you had a crush on me, but I didn't know you were obsessed. "

She laughs through her tears and pulls him into another kiss.

Cria seems flustered when he comes strutting in like he owns the place four months later.

He greets her with as warm a smile as he can muster, "Is Freida around?"

The recent sieges have been taxing on him both physically and emotionally and he wants nothing more than to fall asleep in her arms.

"N-no. Her eminence has been off-planet for nearly a month and just extended her trip for another week," She explains, thinking her last-minute detour to Coruscant was to see the Jedi here now.

The whole situation sours his mood. He'd carefully planned his visit to Jein'ta to see her without drawing unwanted attention from the council, and she didn't even have the common courtesy of being there.

By the time he gets back to Coruscant, he just wants to collapse in his quarters, but something inexplicably pulls him to the Senate building. The whole place is swarming with politicians as a soiree goes on around him.

He doesn't know what he's doing here but just as he resigns himself to leave a familiar laugh pulls the very breath from his lungs. He whirls around, his eyes following the sound to the balcony on the far side of the hall. There she stands, beside Padme, giggling shyly at another senator.

His feet move before his brain can even register what he's doing.

As he crests the top of the steps she glances in his direction, her body freezing when their eyes lock.

Normally, he'd be delighted by the easy, loving smile that lights up her face, but he's too distracted by man across from her blatantly vying for her affection.

The displeased scowl doesn't leave him as he approaches. He holds his hands behind his back, his fingers flexing as he keeps himself from using the force to pull her to his side.

"Senators, your eminence," He greets coldly with a small bow.

She tries to hide her disappointment at his lack of enthusiasm, reminding herself they can't let anyone know about them.

"Ani," Padme grins at him, "I haven't seen you is ages, please, join us."

He agrees and Freida immediately feels as though she's drowning with him in reach but unable to hold him.

He suddenly inhales when he feels the force wrap around him like a warm, weighted blanket, tendrils of her love twisting between his ribs and around his heart. For a moment he forgets his annoyance, his weariness taking it's place until-

"Any man would be beyond lucky to have someone as sweet and beautiful as you by his side. How has no one snatched you up yet?"

Anakin's jaw clenches at the question as the senator takes her hand in his.

Her discomfort is palpable when she pulls away from him with a nervous chuckle, "I have more important things to worry about for now."

The soothing pressure around him dissipates as her anxiety rises and he decides to step in.

"If you'll excuse us for a moment," He interjects, taking Freida's elbow in his hand as gently as he can muster, "The Priestess and I have important matters to discuss."

He doesn't wait for an answer, trying to be gentle when he drags her away.

"You're hurting me," She says once they've wandered into an empty office, far away from the party and he instantly lets go with a muttered apology before leaning down to capture her lips with his.

"I went to see you," He murmurs into the kiss, "Why weren't you there?"

She snorts at the question, thinking it was a joke, but he pulls away with a serious expression.

"Anakin," She sighs, her fingers brushing through is curls, "Ever since I was voted to represtent Jein'ta in the senate, I've been pulled in a million directions at once. I was meeting with Senator Amidala on Naboo, she's been helping me understand some of the political goings ons and she asked me to accompany her here tonight. You don't honestly expect me to wait around every day for you to hopefully show up."

"I expect you to stay where I know you're safe," He argues. His rational mind knows she's right, it's completely outrageous to think she'd spend every moment waiting for him, but he's too tired to listen to reason, "The last thing I want is to have to worry about your safety while I fight on the front lines."

"I was with Senator Amidala, I was perfectly safe. I thought you two were friends?"

"We are! I just... Do you have any idea how much trouble she gets into?" He snaps, his worlds are colliding in ways he can't control, "It's just nice to have a warm bed to fall into after fighting for so long."

She knows he doesn't mean it as it sounds, but the implication stings.

"Is that all I am to you?" She frowns, "Something to warm your bed while you're away? Something to fuck when you're pent up?"

Of course not. She's his everything. That's what he wants to say, but his exhaustion and anger permeate the air as he leans down in her face and spits out, "And you're doing a pretty shit job at it by being here."

He regrets his words as soon as they leave his mouth, the hurt in her eyes overwhelming him.

"I-" The words catch in his throat when her glassy eyes fall and she steps back.

"If that's how you feel about it..." Her voice is barely audible, but then her face hardens and her gaze snaps back to him.

"I only accepted Padme's invitation tonight in hopes of seeing you," She seethes, "But if that's all this relationship was to you, then I'm done."

"Wait," He catches her arm as she turns to leave and she wheels back around at him.

"I'm not some distressed princess that can waste her life away pining for a man that clearly doesn't care about her the way she does he, to come and rescue her!" She berates him, "I'm just sorry I lost the time I did waiting on you."

Clearly doesn't care for her? After all he's risked for her? All he's been willing to lose for her.

"You're just a self important brat who thinks she's better than everyone else!" He accuses, "And it's been my absolute displeasure to serve you, Your Eminence."

He bows sarcastically before storming out of the office, brushing off Padme's concern as he exits the building, leaving Freida by herself.

Now alone, Freida covers her mouth with her hand to muffle the sob clawing its way from her throat as she sinks to the floor.

It's been nearly two months and both Obi-wan and Ahsoka have noticed a change in him. He's more reckless, more aggressive, and less like the man they both care about.

It didn't take long for his regret to turn to rage and he takes it out on bounty hunters and battle droids.

The worst part is that it isn't helping. Even as he disbatches the last droid of this battalion with his lightsaber all he wants to do is break down in his love's arms.

He's felt as though he couldn't breathe from the moment they parted ways and he doesn't know how to remedy it.

He deflects another blaster shot before turning toward the next battalion, fire burning in his eyes that scares even the droids attacking him.

He's torn through a large swath of droids when a wave of despair crashes over him, emotions stronger than his own flood his veins, and panic freezes him in place. Freida.

"Skyguy!"

He snaps back to the moment when shot grazes his arm and Ahsoka deflects three more from filling him with holes. They work together to quickly finish off the last of their attackers, but as soon as he beheads the last droid he disengages his lightsaber and starts for his ship.

"Where are you going?" Obi-wan asks as the younger padawan hurries to catch up.

"Something's wrong," He answers shortly, "I need to go to Jein'ta, I'll be back soon."

"Jein'ta?" The Jedi master puzzles, "But- Anakin! That's on the other side of the galaxy!"

They've barely touched down when he jumps out of the cockpit and starts for her townhouse, calling over his shoulder for R2 to wait with the ship.

He barges inside, double doors slamming open in front of him, startling her as she fixes a flower arrangement in the main foyer.

"Anakin?"

He takes hold of her elbows, pulling her in as he looks her over for wounds.

"What happened? Are you hurt?" He asks, worry prominent in his voice, "I felt you from the other end of the galaxy."

She stares up at him with wide eyes and he cups her cheek, "You've been crying, what's wrong?"

"I-..." She flounders for a moment, her lips trembling before she collapses against his chest, her body shuddering against his grit-covered armor.

He doesn't hesitate to wrap his arms around her and pull her close, "I'm here now, it's okay."

She's spent every moment since they parted trying to act as though she didn't miss him or that every second they were apart wasn't killing her. She was exhausted, she needed him more than she could admit.

"I'm sorry," She sobs and the pain in his chest grows.

"Don't apologize," He begs, "You have nothing to be sorry for, Precious. I was the one at fault."

His rough hand buries itself in her hair as he kisses the top of her head and continues, "I was upset and I took it out on you. I hurt you..."

"Freida-"/"Anakin-"

She pulls away just enough to look up at him, her eyes still wet with tears.

"I never meant to," He says quietly, "It's been destroying me inside knowing I did. I love you."

"I love you," he takes her face in his hands and kisses her forehead, "I love you," Her cheek, "I love you," Her other cheek, "I love you."

Finally, his lips land on hers, kissing her desperately. Her hands grasp his wrists, trying to hold him there when he moves to pull away.

"I missed you," She whispers meekly.

He pulls her back against his dirty chest plate, forgetting that he's even wearing it as he holds her tightly, "I missed you too."

"You smell like oil and sweat," She comments after a bit, once she's calmed down.

"I came straight from the front lines," He admits, "I thought you were hurt."

His body starts to ache as though saying it out loud reminded his bones just how tired he was.

"But you're safe... Right?"

Her arms tighten around his waist and she mumbles against his chest, "I am now."

With a heavy sigh she pulls away from him, taking his hand in hers.

"You look exhausted," He melts into her touch when her fingers graze his forehead to sweep his hair from his face, "Come with me, we'll get you something hot to eat."

He's about to trail after her like a dog when Obi-wan, Ahsoka, and a squadron of clone troupers come running in looking about as worried as he had been.

"Anakin, what happened? Where's the danger?" Obi-wan asks, lightsaber brandished.

The younger Jedi pulls his hands away, his face tinting pink, "There wasn't any."

He still doesn't know what triggered her sudden despair, as much as he would like to think it was her yearning for him, he knows something else must have happened.

"This is my fault," Freida steps in, "More of a... misunderstanding, actually."

The group relaxes and looks at her to continue. She swallows hard, her eyes flickering to Anakin nervously.

"It's been three years since my mother died," She starts, squeezing her fingers anxiously, "But this is the first year I've been home since it happened and I-..."

Anakin takes an instinctive step closer when her voice breaks.

"I didn't take being at her memorial well," Her admission breaks his heart, "I must have let my grief overtake my connection to the force and..."

"We're friends," He adds, tilting his head to look at her face, "After our time together we must have a strong connection through the force. I misread the situation."

"Well then," Obi-wan nods after a moment, not entirely buying their story, "I apologize for our intrusion, your eminence."

"No, please," She stops him when he motions for the group to leave, freezing slightly when he turns back to her, "I... You've come such a long way, I would be remiss if I didn't offer you a hot meal and place to stay for the night."

"Sir, the dreadnought does need repairs after that last attack, it might not make it back to Coruscant now," One of the clones mutters to Kenobi.

"In that case, I suppose it's best we take you up on that offer."

Cria on the otherhand isn't especially pleased by the soldiers tracking dirt, mud, and motor oil all over the clean floors.

Dinner is... tense, to say the least.

Anakin and Freida are desperately trying not to act odd in any way that may alert to the rest of the group that they have a long-standing relationship.

But that doesn't stop him from hooking his ankle with hers under the table, an action that makes her cheeks turn a faint purple.

Every touch between them sparks like lightning and this one is no different.

She tries to play it cool and continue any small talk, but she has a hard time seeing them all in Jeintian garb like this.

Cria had insisted they not wear their armor in the house because they were making such a mess, so now the lot of them, save for Ahsoka who wore one of Frei's old dresses, were wearing simple green and blue tunics and pants, which really was a sight. It was strange to see them in something so different.

Anakin especially. She's not sure what Cria was thinking when she handed him those clothes because they were nicer than the rest.

Something her father left behind from his younger days, she's sure. A deep green, well-fitted shirt with a high collar secured around his neck and diamond-shaped cutout along his chest and upper stomach. It's sleeveless and the hems are decorated with silver embroidery.

"Maybe the housekeeper likes me more," he'd scoffed when the the others remarked at the fancier clothes.

He's caught Freida staring at him across the table more than once and it does little other than stroke his ego.

"... isn't that right, Anakin?" Obi-wan's voice pulls his attention back to the conversation. He's so distracted by her hungry gaze and low-cut gown he doesn't know what he's being asked.

"Master Obi-Wan?"

"I was just telling our host about our latest skirmish on Felucia, were you not paying attention?" The teasing lilt to his voice makes the younger man grimace.

The rest of the evening is spent this way, with his companions poking light-hearted fun at him whenever he gets distracted.

He sighs in relief when the meal ends and they can retire to their assigned rooms, knowing it won't be hard for him to sneak out to see her.

They're spread across three rooms, the jedi in one and the clones split between two others.

"I forgot Jeintians forwent more classic beds," Obi-wan sighs at the large arrangements of cushions, one of which Anakin ungracefully collapses into.

He seems far more at home here than the rest of their party. Obi-wan knows he's been here a few more times than himself, but the ease at which he walks around, as though it were his own house, concerns him.

His body is screaming for sleep, but once the sun goes down and the others seem to be asleep, Anakin quietly makes his way back into the hallway.

He effortlessly makes his way to her door, knocking softly and waiting for her to open it.

When she does, she looks up at him half-asleep, and he melts at how adorable she looks.

"I didn't mean to wake you," He whispers, his fingers brushing through her hair.

"You didn't," She mumbles, "'m wide awake."

"I can see that," He chuckles when she yawns, "C'mon, let's get you to bed."

He gently ushers her back inside before anyone can see them, shushing her little protesting whines.

"Don't fight me here, Precious," He warns lightly, "I wanna hold you for a while."

That gets her attention and she pulls him down with her into her nest of pillows.

He hums contentedly into her mouth, moving to kneel above her, "Missed these lips."

He hisses when she grabs at his shoulders and slides her hands down his arms, grazing the burn from his earlier fight.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing," He insists, kissing down her jaw.

"Anakin," She huffs, sitting up beneath him.

"It's just a scrape, princess," He assures her, "I'm alright."

"Show me."

He does, sighing she she pouts and gets to her feet.

"Seriously Frei, I'm fine."

She ignores him as she sits in front of him with a small kit. She lets him pull her against his chest and leave a trail of kisses down her neck as she digs through it.

He whines when she pulls away again, but let's her take his injured arm.

His blue eyes stare intensely at her face while she patches him up.

Her fingers are soft as she wraps a bandage around his bicep, tying it off before pressing a soft kiss to it, making him shudder.

"All better," She smiles, and he doesn't know how, but he falls even more in love with her.

His hands tangle in her hair and he pulls her back against his lips, "How did I ever get so lucky?"

He tries not to laugh when he feels a familiar rumble pick up in her chest. Even now, he hasn't quite gotten used to the purring.

He moves her first-aid kit to the side with the force so he can lay them both down as she nuzzles against his neck.

Despite the warmth of her embrace, his mind wanders the look of her tears and pained expression back in the Senate building and he holds her tighter, "Are you sure you're okay?"

"We both said things we didn't mean," She says, "At least... I know I didn't-"

"Of course I didn't," He frowns, "I was just... I was tired and in a bad mood. I should've known better than to take it out on you like that, you're my everything."

He feels her smile against his throat before pulling away slightly.

"This suits you," She grins, fingers toying with the window on the chest of his tunic.

"Do I look as devastatingly handsome as I usually do?" He teases.

"Even more so," She hums, leaning down to kiss him again.

Warm sunlight shines through the windows and her heart sinks when she finds herself alone.

He must have left not long after she fell asleep, knowing they couldn't be caught together like that.

She stretches out in the midmorning sun, her claws digging into a cushion as she does.

She takes her time waking up before strolling out to the kitchen in one of her more casual outfits, thinking their guests would have left hours ago.

"Well, that just isn't fair," The sudden voice makes her jump and knock her mug off the counter, "Careful!"

He catches it with the force, setting it back on the countertop as he steps closer.

"I thought you'd left," She gasps.

"Is that all I get?" He chuckles, "No 'how did you sleep?' No good morning kiss?"

"Oh, how rude of me," She grins, leaning up with her hand on his chest to press a soft kiss to his lips, "How did you sleep, Ani?"

"Terribly," He mumbles into another kiss, "Kept reaching out to hold you but you weren't there."

She hums, nuzzling against his chest.

"My pretty girl isn't awake yet, is she?" He coos.

"Haven't had my tea," She mutters.

"We can't have that now, can we?" He tuts, stepping away.

She watches with soft eyes as he starts her morning ritual for her, "You don't have to-"

"I don't mind."

She pushes herself up on the counter and crosses her legs, "What did you mean when you said this wasn't fair?"

"What was that, princess?" He asks, glancing over at her.

"When you walked in."

"Oh, that... I mean, just look at you," He shrugs, "We're supposed to keep this thing a secret, but when I see you look like that, how am I supposed to keep my hands off you?"

"Cause you're so easy to stay away from in that shiny uniform?"

He chuckles and parts her legs with the force, stepping between them as he hands her back her cup. His fingers graze her exposed midriff and pride ride swells in his chest when her cheeks darken, "Lovely little thing."

"Stop," She whines, trying to hide her blush from him, but he's not having it.

He hooks two fingers under her chin and turns her face back toward him, "Please don't hide from me."

They're just inches apart, his breath fanning over her face, intoxicating her as he presses his forehead to hers.

She sets aside her hot drink and grabs the back of his neck, tugging him into a hard kiss.

"Do you even know what you do to me?" He groans against her lips when she doesn't let up, "Fuck."

"Sweetheart... gotta be careful," He huffs breathlessly, pulling back as far as she'll let him, "You're gonna get us caught."

"Says the one pinning me to the counter."

"I can do more than just pin you to it," He challenges, about to nip at her lower lip when the sound of footsteps comes close to the kitchen. He quickly pulls away, leaving her sat there flustered as Ahsoka walks in.

"Am I... interrupting something?" She asks, freezing awkwardly in the doorway at the sight of Freida's deep purple cheeks.

"Nope," She squeaks, quickly lifting her mug to her face to hide her blush.

Well that wasn't convincing, the padawan thinks before glancing at her master, and neither is that.

He's glaring at their host like a predator staring down its next kill, his chest and shoulders heaving with heavy breaths, like he wants to devour her whole.

"Okay... Well, I'm just gonna take this and... go..." She says, grabbing a fruit from a basket on the island and backing out again.

"I think we may need to work on being less suspicious around other people," Frei mutters into her drink.

"Hey, it's hard to act though I'm not desperately in love with you when you're so close," He admits with a playful smirk. He closes the distance again, their noses bumping, "You've bewitched me, body and soul. Everything I am is yours and I don't care if people know it."

"But I do," She argues and his eyebrows furrow in confusion, "Anakin, you love being a Jedi... I would never ask you to give that up for me."

His face softens at her explanation and he surges forward to kiss her again, careful not to spill her still-steaming tea.

"I promise, someday I'll come back for you and never leave again," He vows, "And we won't have to sneak around like this love we have is wrong."

Anakin wakes with a start when the woman beside him bolts upright, crying his name. Her hand hit his chest, scratching his skin as she feels it's really him.

"I'm here," He says, sitting up next to her and wrapping his arms around her waist, "You're okay, I'm here."

His voice is soft and reassuring as he holds her.

It's been less than a year since he'd been expelled from the Jedi after falling under Darth Sidious' thrall, and only a few months since the Sith lord's trial had ended.

This was still new to both of them, him being within reach every moment of the day, and openly being them.

"I'm right here, Precious," He mutters into her hair. His flesh hand rubs soothing circles on the small of her back while his mechno arm holds her tight to his chest. They both get force-terrors of that night at the Jedi Temple, of the things he did and can never take back.

Freida clings to him as she tries to catch her breath. He's real. He's safe. He's yours.

That thought alone is enough to calm her. He's yours. She holds him tighter and he lets her, kissing the crown of her head.

The force wraps around them like a comforting hug, both isolating them from the world and connecting them to everything in existence.

"It's over," The ghost of a promise whispered in the night, "We made it."

#death by anyone's hand but his would never taste as sweet #prisma self ships #prisma writes #self ship writting #self ship community #self ship story #anakin skywalker #fluff #hurt/comfort

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nimnomdimsum · 1 year ago

Text

Group project

It was a mistake

You knew you shouldn’t have tried something new. Shouldn’t have gotten out of your comfort zone, it never leads to anything good.

You were practically running down the stairs, trying to escape whatever the fuck that club was. Why’d you have to be curious about VAMPIRES out of all things? Why not butterflies, or flowers? No. It had to be blood sucking vampires and u had to join a club with a bunch of fanatics who won’t stfu and are too graphic about how to kill a vampire. Especially that blondey monoma , Fucking creep. He made u so uncomfortable that u just ran out the minute he started talking. The details made queasy and light headed. You felt as if you lungs were gonna pop you were breathing so hard, when you got out of the club and onto campus, you realise your frantic breathing wouldn’t stop, tears were running down your face, everything was spinning and you were scared.

What was happening? Why does it hurt so much? Why can’t you breathe??Are you having a panic attack right now?

These questions didn’t help you calm down and you felt as if you were gonna pass out so you found a nearby bench to sit on and closed your eyes, trying to get your breathing to settle. Not a minute later u hear a very tired but worried voice say, “Hey…are you ok?”

You look up to see droopy half lidded purple eyes with eye bags that can rival a science major. His indigo hair was unruly and you recognised it somwhere…

“Hey! Can you hear me, are you ok?” Repeated the purple haired boy. You finally focused on him and shook your head. He came closer and put a hand on your shoulder, crouched down and looked into your eyes, “ Answer me with your words this time. Are you ok?”

Struggling to even move you push the word no out in a desperate and clumsy manner.

“Calm down and breathe slowly “

Suddenly, it all stopped, your breathing slowed and the tears stopped, you were fine but it felt strange, like someone pressed the off button and you were kinda sleepy. “You feeling better?”

The boy was staring at u the whole time, he looked slightly relieved.

“Yeah I’m ok thanks, how’d you do that?”

His eyes widened and a slight smirk broke his neutral expression “I didn’t think you’d notice. It’s my quirk, brainwash” he said offering you a hand. You took it, tucking That new information somewhere in ur brain. When you got up u nearly hit the floor again your legs were so wobbly

“Hey be careful! My quirk doesn’t deal with the aftermath”, the purple crayon said(I got tired) while grabbing your elbow and hip to steady you.You guys were standing fairly close in this position and it gave you time to figure out where U know him from. U also took this time to take in all the features u missed. He had dimple when he smiled and unusually sharp canines, his hair was indigo yes but there was a few different shades of purple In his hair aswell, small segments of lavender and violet making beautiful patterns of highlights. His eyes were quite unique as well, while purple wasn’t an unusual colour these days due to quirks, his had a thin sheen of red and his pupils were thinned out, like an angry cat. By the time he started getting uncomfortable with u staring it clicked.

“Allcock”, U blurted out.

His whole face went through 4 different emotions but he soon had a neutral expression with an eyebrow raised.

“What did u just say?” He asked with an amused glimmer in his eyes.

Blushing, realising what u just said, you give him a sheepish smile, “professor allcock, we take the same philosophy class.”

“Oh”

“Yeah I recognised u by ur hair, I actually didn’t know u had a Face”

His eyes widened and he tipped his head back in laughter.

“Really?I didn’t realise. I normally just record what the prof is saying on my computer. Speaking of class, what are you doing here? Class is in”-he checks his watch-“4 hours.”

You stand there in silence, mulling over whether U should tell him or not you should tell him the truth. You close your eyes and decide to come clean, “I’ve recently been interested in vampires and there’s a club on campus that specialises in vampires so I wanted to check it out but they were way too graphic and made me very uncomfortable so I ran out and then I-“

“Hey, hey, breath ok? We don’t want another panic attack on our hands do we?” He says with a reassuring yet playful smile.

You nod embarrassed, trying to catch your breathe.

After your breathing is normal you realise it’s gotten a silent. Awkward silent. While u were looking for ways to fix it, he beat u too it, breaking the silence with, “Tell you what, If u be my partner for the next philosophy project, I’ll tell u what you need to know about vampires.”

You look at him suspiciously, “what do you know about vampires?”

He looks around him to see if there was anyone around before smirking and coming closer to your face.

He bends down a little and opens his mouth, u stare in confusion then amazement as he makes his canines sharper and hollow. You look at his eyes and that red sheen starts glowing brighter and brighter until his irises are no longer seen. Your eyes go wide and u gasp, “You’re a-a-!”He quickly puts his hand over your mouth before bringing a finger to his grinning one with a wink.

“So how about it huh? Do we have a deal?”

Still in shock you nod your head yes. He smiles wider before asking you for your phone, you absentmindedly take it out and unlock it for him. As he taps away you can’t but feel like your dreaming.

He’s a vampire, I love vampires! They’re so cool. Oh my god, I’m gonna do my project with a real life vamp-

A notification from his phone interrupts your thoughts and he hands your phone back to you

“There. See u in class!” He says with a wave and turns around, walking away.

You wave back before looking down at your phone and rolling your eyes at what he saves himself as:

‘Cool vampire dude’

You assumed the notification from his phone was a text he sent himself so you checked, you were right but this time the message made you smile fondly;

‘💜💜💜’

Im taking so long to write pt 4 of the Megumi ff so have this shitty shinso ff I wrote in April😋

#shinsou x reader #college au #vampire shinso #panic attack #group project #cliche?#quirks #mha #my hero academy fanfiction #bha #boku no hero acedamia #shinso #he’s always sleeping #shitpost #quick read

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munstysmind · 2 years ago

Text

OCTOBER 9th - Maddison - An Original Series

WARNING/S: Nightmare, anxiety, bad mental health, Travis

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION FOR MY WORK TO BE USED IN ANY CAPACITY

Divider by @firefly-graphics

MAIN MASTERLIST

MADDISON MASTERLIST

please let me know if you would like to be added to a tag list

Letting out a groan, Chris reaches for his phone to check the time. 3:38am. Way too early to be awake and yet he’s just woken with a start.

He has no idea why.

He doesn’t need the toilet, there weren’t any loud noises, he didn’t have a shitty dream. Absolutely nothing to explain his sudden return to consciousness.

He lets out a yawn and rubs his face just as he feels Maddie grasp his top in her hand.

She’s still fast asleep, snuggled into his side.

It feels weird to him to sleep with clothes on, he normally doesn’t wear anything to bed, but he isn’t about to make her uncomfortable just so he doesn’t have to wear fabric while he sleeps.

He lets out a frustrated sigh, rubbing the top of her hand and arm as he closes his eyes, willing his sleep to return when he hears a soft whimper, making him look down at her.

He can see her scrunched forehead in the dim light from his phone and quickly realises why he woke up so abruptly. Subconsciously he must have known something was wrong.

She lets out another whimper as her breathing starts getting faster, so fast she’s almost hyperventilating, and he knows she’s panicking in her sleep.

“Shhhhhh, you’re ok” he whispers, pulling her closer to him as he starts rubbing her back, trying to settle her and hopefully prevent her panic from turning into a nightmare.

He continues to rub circles on her back, whispering calmly to her until her whole body slowly relaxes and she stops whimpering, her grip on his shirt loosening as her breathing returns to a steady, even pace.

She shifts slightly, her body leaning into him even more as she tries to bury her face further into his chest, her brain instinctively trying to seek him out for comfort.

He can’t help but hum quietly and smile to himself as he threads his fingers through her hair. He finds as much comfort in her being curled into his side as she does. It’s something he looks forward to every night, holding her close as they drift off to sleep. He’s never slept as well as he does next to her and has no idea how he’s going to go back to sleeping on his own again when he leaves.

He kisses the top of her head a few times before yawning again as his eyes become heavy and he drifts off back to sleep.

A scream rips Chris from his sleep for the second time in as many hours, making him shoot up in a panic, his heart pounding in his chest as he reaches over and hits the surface of the bedside table several times, searching for the switch on the base of the lamp.

When he finally flips it on the room is illuminated by dim light, more than enough for him to see the state Maddie’s in.

Her chest rising and falling, her eyes moving rapidly under her eyelids, her whole body covered in a light layer of sweat as it shifts and twitches under the assault of her brain.

“Maddie… Mads, wake up” he says, running his hand through her hair, trying to wake her as gently as possible.

A scared whimper leaves her throat as she moves away from his touch, her head jerking to the side.

“Maddie” he says, much louder this time as he gives her shoulder a firm shake, making her eyes fly open as she wakes with a gasp.

“Hey, it’s OK” he tells her, gently rubbing her stomach in an attempt to ground her which backfires spectacularly.

She lets out a panicked cry and scrambles away from him to the corner of the bed, almost falling off in the process.

“It’s Chris, Maddie it’s Chris… it’s OK, you’re OK” he says, realising she’s scared of him in her post nightmare brain fog. He prays he’ll be able to snap her out of her confusion sooner rather than later.

“It’s OK… I’m not gonna hurt you” he tells her as he holds his hands up in front of his chest, not wanting to scare her any more than she already is.

He sees her face shift, her eyes growing wide as her brain finally registers who he is, before she starts to panic again.

“Are you OK?” she gasps, reaching forward and grabbing at his shirt, her hands running over his chest like she’s looking for something

“I’m fine” he tells her, frowning slightly as he looks down at his chest, confused by what she’s doing and why she’s so worried about him.

“He hurt you” she says, still searching his chest.

He closes his eyes, letting out a quick breath as he realises she’s talking about her nightmare. About Travis. He doesn’t even want to think about the images her brain was creating in her sleep.

“Maddie, look at me” he says, gently taking her face and making her focus on him through her tear filled eyes.

“I’m OK. He didn’t hurt me. It was a nightmare. It wasn’t real” he tells her softly, gently wiping away the tear that’s just escaped her eye and rolled down her cheek with his thumb.

“You’re OK?” she whispers shakily, her hands gripping his shirt so tightly her knuckles are white.

“Look” he says, gently prying her hands from his shirt and lifting it so she can see.

She runs her hands over his bare chest, making sure he really is OK before letting out a breath neither of them realised she was holding.

Before he has a chance to pull her in for a hug, she throws her arms around him and buries her face in his neck as she starts to break down.

“Shhhhhh. It’s ok… it’s ok. It was a dream, a really bad dream. It’s over… it’s over” he soothes as he wraps his arms around her and holds her tight, one hand cradling back of her head while the other rubs her back.

“He didn’t hurt you” she gasps between sobs, trying to reassure herself as she clings to him, terrified he’s going to disappear if she lets go.

“No beautiful, he didn’t hurt me, I’m OK” he says, resting his cheek against her head while he gently rocks her.

After a few minutes, when her initial shock has subsided, he starts carefully moving them, making her panic all over again.

“No no no” she whimpers, her grip on him tightening because she thinks he’s trying to pull away from her.

“It’s OK, you’re OK” he tells her quietly, kissing her temple a few times as he continues to move them into a more comfortable position.

It doesn’t take long for him to get them situated in the middle of the bed, her laying directly on top of him, her body weight helping to calm his own anxiety from everything that’s just happened.

“Chris…” she whispers, so quietly he almost doesn’t hear her as he adjusts the pillows under his head.

“I’m here, I’ve got you” he tells her, wrapping his arms around her and moving his head to the side to give her more space as she nuzzles her face even further into his neck before inhaling deeply in an attempt to self soothe.

Her entire body relaxes, basically melting into his as he threads his finger through her hair and starts gently massaging her scalp.

“That’s it Beautiful… you’re OK, it’s over” he whispers, pressing light kisses to her temple while he continues to gently massage her scalp and starts rubbing circles on her back with his other hand.

Inhaling deeply, Chris rubs his eyes before letting out a long groan as his sleep edges further and further away. He really doesn’t want to be awake right now, he’s so tired. It took him over an hour to get back to sleep after Maddie had because he was so worried she would wake up screaming again.

It’s the first nightmare he’s seen her have and knowing he was in it, that him being hurt is something she fears, has made him realise she’s not only scared Travis is going to come back and hurt her again, she’s also scared he’s going to hurt the people in her life too, the people she cares about.

He suspects a huge part of the reason she’s so desperate to keep their relationship private is to protect him from Travis. If Travis doesn’t know about him, he doesn’t pose a threat, he can’t hurt him. It’s her way of keeping him safe.

Looking over at her, he’s relieved to see she’s still asleep, curled up in a ball under the covers, hugging her pillow tightly to her chest.

He gently brushes the hair that's covering her face out of the way before leaning forward and pressing a soft kiss to her temple, freezing when she lets out a soft groan.

“Shhhhhh” he soothes, running his hand through her hair, praying that he hasn’t just woken her when he hears a noise outside the room and is suddenly wide awake.

He looks out her open door, carefully listening while he tries to figure out if he was just hearing things or not. It doesn’t take him long to realise it’s Sebastian, singing quietly somewhere in the apartment and remembers Maddie said he was due home today making him let out a quiet sigh of relief.

He carefully gets out of bed, pulling on his sweats before tip toeing out of her room and quietly closing the door behind him.

He finds Sebastian in the kitchen, pouring a bowl of whisked eggs with ham and cheese into a large pan on the stove.

“Morning” Chris says, leaning against the bench and rubbing his face as he lets out a yawn, completely missing Sebastian’s double take.

“Morning… I thought you were flying back last night” Sebastian says before turning his attention back to the pan on the stove and adding some mixed herbs and seasoning to the eggs before giving everything a thorough stir through.

“Yeah… that changed” Chris tells him, running his hands through his hair as he lets out a large sigh while he debates whether or not to crawl back into bed and wrap his arms around Maddie.

“Everything OK?” Sebastian asks, keeping and eye on the pan in front of him to make sure nothing burns.

“No, pretty far from it… she saw Travis yesterday” Chris says, causing Sebastian to drop the spatula he’s holding in shock.

“Please tell me you’re joking?!” Sebastian says, turning off the burner and looking at Chris, his eyes wide. Now he knows why Chris stayed longer than originally planned.

“We were at Central Park. She wanted to get out, enjoy the day Ma called me and I stepped away for a few minutes. Came back and he was there. She hid behind me as soon as I was close enough” Chris says, his fists balling up without him even realising.

“I’m gonna fucking kill him. Is she OK?” Sebastian asks furiously, his blood boiling at the thought of the bastard laying his hands on her again.

“No… she’s scared Seb, really scared. He grabbed her, threatened her. She basically collapsed when we walked through the door, woke up screaming during the night” Chris tells him sadly, trying not to think of how his stomach was in his throat when Maddie’s legs gave out.

“Fuck… I’m gonna call John. Get another protection order filed” Sebastian says as Maddie comes out of her room, rubbing her eyes and yawning while she pulls on one of Sebastian’s favourite hoodies.

“That’s where that one went” Sebastian chuckles. He should have known she’d taken it, she always does.

She gives him a small smile as she walks over to Chris and buries her face in the middle of his chest before wrapping her arms around him.

“Morning beautiful” he says quietly, rubbing circles on her back.

She just groans into his chest and squeezes him tightly. It makes his heart ache. She shouldn’t have to be going through this, not again.

He threads his hand through her hair and starts to gently massage the back of her scalp the way she loves, a small smile spreading across his face when she lets out a quiet satisfied hum.

“It’s gonna be OK beautiful, I promise” he whispers, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

“You want some eggs Mads?” Sebastian asks, trying to shift her focus away from what he knows she’s thinking about.

“Yes please” she mumbles from Chris’ chest before turning her head and resting her ear against it, listening to his heartbeat. It’s strong, steady. There’s something about it that calms her, makes her feel safe. Everything about Chris makes her feel safe. Safe in a way she’s never felt before, even with Sebastian.

She lets out breath as she closes her eyes and all but melts into Chris, wishing she could say wrapped in his arms forever.

“Mads” Chris says quietly after a few minutes, giving her a gentle squeeze.

She groans quietly as she’s pulled out of her little bubble before looking up at him and resting her chin on his chest.

Out of the corner of her eye she sees Sebastian setting down two plates of eggs with buttered bagels and lets out the excited hum Chris loves.

“Thank you” she tells Sebastian as she untangles herself from Chris and sits down at the table, pulling out her phone and starting to check notifications as she starts to eat.

“You’re welcome” he says, pressing a quick kiss to the top of her head as he passes her on his way back to the kitchen.

“Good?” Chris asks as he sits next to her, already knowing her answer.

She looks at him and grins before turning her attention back to her phone. It’s part of her morning routine, checking her notifications while she eats.

He can’t help but lean over and press a few soft kisses to her temple, smiling when she lets out a hum and tilts her head towards him.

“This looks really good Seb” Chris says when Sebastian sits across from him.

They start talking about Sebastian’s latest project while everyone eats, not that Maddie hears a word of it, she’s too focused on reading an email from her manager about an upcoming children’s charity event she’s been invited to.

She pulls up her already busy calendar to check her availability when she sees today’s date.

There’s something about it that makes her feel uneasy.

She can’t quite put her finger on it…

She lets out a quiet gasp and drops her fork as she’s filled with anxiety when she finally realises the significance

“Seb…” she says, looking up at him wearing a look he knows all too well.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, making Chris look at her with a concerned frown on his face.

“A year ago I woke up on your couch” she whispers quietly as tears start filling her eyes.

“Fuck, that’s today?” Sebastian asks, angry at himself for forgetting.

“What’s today?” Chris asks as Maddie lets out a shaky breath before getting up and going to her room, closing the door behind her.

“It’s October 9th” Sebastian tells him as images of that night flood his mind. What he would give to go back and stop Travis.

“And...” Chris says, still extremely confused by what’s just happened. He’s worried. One minute Maddie was eating happily while she played on her phone and the next she was wiping tears away and disappearing into her room.

“October 9th, 2012” Sebastian says, looking at Chris. He sees his eyes widen as he realises.

“It’s been a year” Chris says, letting out a sad sigh. He knew it was coming, he just didn’t know exactly when. All Maddie told him was it happened in October.

He gets up and goes to her room, knocking on the door a few times before opening in and going it.

“Mads, it’s just me” he says quietly, looking around for her as he closes the door. He sees the very top of her head sticking up above the bed and he knows she’s trying to hide. A part of him considers leaving her, giving her privacy but he can’t bring himself to do it, he needs to comfort her.

She quickly wipes her eyes as she hears him walking around the bed, trying to hide her tears before hugging her knees to her chest.

She didn’t realise how hard this milestone was going to hit her.

She’d actually forgotten all about it because she was so focused on Chris, enjoying the time they had together, that it wasn’t even a distant thought.

A year ago today her life changed in a way she wouldn’t wish on anyone, not even the man who changed it.

Chris lets out a sad sigh as he sits in front of her, hating that she’s trying to hide and fight off her emotions.

She tries to look away but he stops her, gently taking her chin and turning her head to look at him, his heart breaking as he wipes the tears from her cheeks.

“You don’t have to hide from me Maddie, it’s OK” he says softly, his hand moving to the side of her face. She closes her eyes and leans into his touch while his fingers start rubbing small circles on the side of her neck.

“It’s OK to let me in” he reassures her, knowing she’s having a hard time opening up, especially about this.

She’s scared of his reaction, her brain thinking it’s going to be negative because it’s all she knows.

“I’m trying” she whispers. She is. She really is… but it’s hard. What Travis did, it makes her second guess everything.

She wants to trust Chris, more than anything, and even though he’s given her no reason not to trust him, she feels like she has to protect herself from a hurt that may never happen.

She lets out a quiet sob and grasps the front of his shirt, quickly pulling him towards her before burying her face in his chest and wrapping her arms around him, holding him as tightly.

“I’m scared” she whispers, her voice breaking as she starts crying again.

“It’s OK… it’s OK to be scared beautiful” he tells her, feeling his own tears welling while he gently rocks her.

He’s never seen her this upset and he hates it, hates that Travis is still hurting her, even indirectly.

He makes a mental note to make some calls during the week, there’s something he wants to do before he heads back to LA.

TAGLIST

@aussieez, @rookiemartin, @babeyyemor, @secretaryunpaid, @pixie88, @chickensarentcheap, @dhoruwolfie, @themaradaniels

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michelleleewise · 2 years ago

Text

Frozen Hearts

Pairing: Loki x reader

Warnings: swearing, sexual innuendos, mentions of past trauma, anxiety, hints of smut, nothing graphic, self esteem issues.

Summary: you take things one day at a time, working through your past, as you and Matt hit a snag.

Part 2-

====================================

You jolted upright in bed, breathing heavy covered in sweat. The nightmares weren't as bad as they used to be, but occasionally still tormented you. You sighed, swinging your legs off the bed going to shower. Coming out getting dressed you looked at the time, seeing it was still early. You made your way to the kitchen thankful everyone would probably still be asleep.

You sat on a stool at the island sipping your coffee rubbing your forehead. Closing your eyes seeing the memories flash behind your eyelids, wishing they would go away. You felt a tear form at the corner of your eye as you heard someone come in, quickly clearing your throat wiping your face, you looked up to see him.

"Morning darling, what brings you here so early? Couldn't stop thinking about me?" He asked with a smirk. You sighed looking up at him "first don't call me that, and second, I would willingly have my brain removed if I thought about you." You said sipping your coffee. "Wouldn't make much of a difference would it?" He asked shrugging. Before you could say anything you heard someone else come in. You watched as she walked up to Loki, hugging him from behind "you didn't tell me you left baby." She said kissing his cheek. "Whose this?" She said looking at you "y/n, this is Melissa, Melissa y/n." Loki said not looking up. "My name is Megan." She said looking at him, as he shrugged and continued making his coffee.

"So are you friends with the girl that was here the other night?" You asked her bringing your cup to your lips. You saw Loki glare at you. "What other girl? What is she talking about Loki?" She asked turning to him. "Oh, this tall blonde girl, she was really pretty, she was a model wasn't she Loki?" You said looking at him. You tried not to laugh as she slapped him "don't call me again!" She yelled before stomping out. He sighed and leaned on the counter glaring at you. "You did that on purpose." He said through clenched teeth. "Whatever do you mean?" You asked innocently as you got up and put your cup in the sink beginning to leave. "Don't take your frustrations out on me because no one wants to sleep with you." You heard him say.

You stopped, wanting to say something, to not let him get the last word. "You probably couldn't even satisfy a man." You heard him scoff. You opened your mouth, wanting to say something but nothing came out. Thankful your back was to him so he didn't see the tear that ran down your cheek, that wasn't the first time you'd been told that. You sighed and hurried out of the room. You made your way to the lab, seeing Matt you headed over to him hugging him. "Hey y/n, everything ok?" He asked hugging you back. "Yes, just needed a hug." You said looking up at him. He smiled leaning down kissing you. "When will you be done today?" You asked pulling away. "I have a few things I'm working on for Bruce, maybe a few hours." He said smiling at you. "Do you want to go to a movie when your done?" You asked him. "I'd love to, I'll try to hurry." He said kissing you as he went back to to work.

You went back upstairs to get ready, thankful Loki wasn't in the kitchen, there was no way you were going to show him he hurt you. you made your way to your room and got dressed. You text Matt asking when he would be done and said to meet you in the common room. He replied he would be up in five minutes so you made your way out. You sat your purse in the counter, smoothing out the black dress you had on. It hugged your curves, falling to just above your knees. Straightening your hair you turned to see a man and woman on the couch you had never seen before. "Who are you? How did you get in here?" You asked looking at them. The girl smiled at you "Loki invited us, he should be back in a second." She said looking at you. "Of course he did." You looked at them.

You saw Loki appear in the doorway motioning for the two to come with him. You glanced at him, trying to avoid eye contact when he smiled and winked at you before following the two to his room. You rolled your eyes as Matt came in. "Hello love, are you ready to go?" He asked kissing you "Yes please, let's get out of here." You said practically dragging him to the elevator. You finished your date and Matt walked you back to your room. "I had fun tonight y/n." He said holding your hands. "Me too." You leaned up kissing him. You felt his hand lace into your hair, pulling you closer deepening the kiss. You put your hands on his chest,

You felt the wall behind you as he started kissing down your neck "Matt, what are you doing?" You asked as you felt his hand moved down your side to your hip. "I want you y/n." He sighed, continuing his path down your neck. "You know I'm not ready Matt." You sighed gently pushing him away. "It's been a year y/n, how long do you want me to wait?' He asked removing his hands. "I thought it wasn't an issue?" You asked. "It's not, I just wonder if I'm going to be celibate forever." He said crossing his arms. "I told you I would tell you when I was ready, you agreed to that." You said raising your voice. "Yes, I did but I didn't know I was dating a nun." He raised his voice back. "I think you should go." You said looking down. "Yeah me too, night y/n." He said. You watched him get on the elevator before you turned seeing Loki in the hallway.

Shit how long has he been there? What did he hear? "What the hell do you want?" You asked as you tried you unlock the door, trying to get inside before your tears fell. "Are you ok?" You heard him ask, he almost sounded sincere. "What do you care?" You asked looking at him. "I'm just a pathetic mortal who can satisfy a man, isn't that what you said?" You asked working on unlocking your door again. "Y/n." He started when you put your hand up "go away Loki, I don't need your pity." You said going inside slamming your door. You slipped your shoes and dress off, getting into your sleep shorts and tank top, your fingers tracing the scar on your abdomen as you pulled your shirt down.

You climbed in bed checking your phone hoping to see a message from Matt but nothing. You wanted to be intimate with him, but what would he think after seeing the scars, the damage underneath. Would he still want you after knowing. No one else did, he wouldn't be any different. You rolled to your side, burying your face in your blanket as you quietly let the tears fall. He'll leave too.

💚💚💙💙💚💚💙💙💚💚💙💙💚💚💙💙💚💚💙

@vbecker10 @lokisprettygirl22 @sinsandguilt @usagishira @cabingrlandrandomcrap @daggers-and-mischief @stupidthoughtsinwriting @catalina712 @kat-nee @mcufan72 @lokiprompts @123forgottherest @asgardianprincess1050 @midnights-ramblings @el-zef @froggiecky @sweetberry47

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glazesunflower · 2 years ago

Text

"There it is, there’s that smile!"

Character: Misturi Kanroji x GN!Reader.

Warnings: Hurt/comfort, mentions of a battle with demons. Nothing graphic tho.

Notes: My first KNY request <3 I hope I did the love pillar justice!

The moon is high in the sky when you finally make it to the Love state. You can feel the tiredness of the day creeping up your body as you make it through the hallway, trying your best to not make any noise.

You know Mitsuri is a heavy sleeper, but you still would hate to wake her up, given that she’s a hashira and she’s very often busy until late hours. Even still, she always manages to go back to the Love state and make herself comfortable in your shared bed.

She tries to wait for you to come back, your missions usually take you further than you’d like and it takes more hours for you to be back at night, but you always come back to her, and so she likes waiting for you awake. Unfortunately, more often than not, the tiredness of the day wins over the hashira and you find her asleep by the time you make it home.

Not that you mind, you’re quite fond of the sight you’re greeted with when you come home. Mitsuri, wearing one of your haoris, soundly asleep on your side of the bed, her pink hair messy and her limbs sprawled all over the bed. She’s adorable when she sleeps, you treasure every night you come home to her.

Today, however, you hear a faint sound as you make it through the door of your shared room.

“Mitsuri?” You tentatively ask. The room is fairly dark, the only light that’s on is the lamp by the bedside table, casting long shadows across the room.

You narrow your eyes and you find her, sitting on the floor next to the bed, legs tightly pressed against her chest and her face buried in her arms. You’re quick to kneel in front of her, your heart picking up the pace.

“Mitsuri, my love.” You softly call her, placing your hand on her shoulder slowly to avoid startling her. “Is everything alright? Are you hurt?”

Mitsuri raises her head from her knees, her green eyes big and glassy. She quickly wraps her arms around your neck, so fast that you barely have time to balance the two of you before you fall to the ground, holding her waist at the motion.

“I’m a terrible hashira and a terrible person and I ruin everything.” Her voice comes out muffled by your chest, her forehead tightly pressed against your collarbone. You feel her trembling in your arms.

“Mitsuri, you’re not terrible. You’re wonderful, I…” You scatter your brain for the situation to make sense. She was okay when you left your home this morning, wasn’t she? “Where is this even coming from?”

“I had a mission today, and I— Sniff. There was a demon but then there were five of them, and— Sniff.” Thick tears keep spilling out of her green eyes, dampening her cheeks and your haori that she’s wearing. Her heart beats unsteadily, her voice small and trembling when she opens her mouth again to try to offer some explanation to you. “I couldn’t fight them all at once, and this girl-- She jumped in to save her siblings and— Sniff. I was too late, and I couldn’t—”

“Okay. That’s okay, Mitsuri. Breathe for me now, alright?” You say, caressing her arm, from her shoulder slowly sliding down to her elbow, soothing. Mitsuri mimics your breathing for a solid minute, managing to slowly calm her raging heart. “Just like that. That’s better, isn’t it?”

Mitsuri whimpers, curling into herself at the sound of your voice overwhelmingly caring.

“Yes.” She breathes in, now calmer. You watch her pink hair carelessly cascade down her shoulders as she nods her head, her green eyes full of shame and regret as she looks down. “That girl… She got hurt because I wasn’t fast enough. Or strong enough, I guess. It’s my fault she got wounded. I’m supposed to be better than that, aren’t I?”

She looks at you with questioning eyes, hoping for you to give her something to hold on to. You raise your hand, caressing her cheek softly.

“But you saved her in the end, didn’t you? You saved all of them from the demons.” You raise your hand and brush off some locks of pretty pink hair off her neck, and you place a soft kiss on the skin that meets you there, on the spot between her jaw and clavicle. Mitsuri shivers in your arms, but you feel her body noticeably relaxing with your touch.

“I did.” She shakes her head. “But if I had been faster, then that girl—”

“You did all you could, my love. You’re not a God, you’re just a human trying her best.” You whisper, your voice low and overwhelmingly soothing, Mitsuri wants nothing more than to melt in your arms. “You saved them in the end, and that’s what counts. You did well, my heart.”

She feels your hand drawing circles on her hand, over her waist. Patient, loving, accepting. You’re every little thing that’s good in her world, and she feels in her heart she can’t keep pushing you away when all you want to do is soothe and heal.

So she lets you hold her face in your hands again, not looking up at your eyes yet.

It’s a silly thought, but her cheeks are probably stained and wet, her nose must be red and her eyes feel puffy. Something in Mitsuri’s chest twinges at the thought of you seeing her like this, a mess outside as she feels on the inside, but the part of her that trusts you and your love blindly is what keeps her steady in your grasp, not turning away again.

“Come on, no more being sad.” Mitsuri can practically hear the smile in your voice. “I brought something for you, actually. Can you guess what it is?”

“Is it sakura mochis?” Her green eyes find you again, and this time you see a glimpse of brightness sitting behind her eyes, the edge of her lips blooming into a quick smile.

“There it is.” You say, repositioning yourself to be more comfortable. One arm around her waist, and the other arm climbs up to palm Mitsuri’s face. She closes her eyes briefly when you place a soft kiss on the tip of her nose. “There’s that smile!”

You tease, and Mitsuri lets out a wet chuckle.

She’s such an idiot, really. Worrying over how her face looks like when she knows by heart that you’re nothing but tender and loving when it comes to complimenting her, appearance and all.

“But is it sakura mochis?” She insists, her eyes big and sparkly on yours.

“Maybe.” You chuckle, standing up and prompting her to follow you. “Why don’t we have some dessert in the living room?”

If you enjoyed this, please consider liking or reblogging it <3!

You can check more of my writing on (this link!). Thank you!

#kny #kny x reader #kny x you #kny x y/n #kimetsu no yaiba #kimetsu mitsuri #mitsuri kanjori #mitsuri x y/n #mitsuri x reader #mitsuri x you #demon slayer mitsuri #kanroji #kanroji x you #kimetsu no yaiba kanroji

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muffindaddystyles · 3 years ago

Text

Someone hurts Y/N at work; and Harry’s owner of the company.

Angry young man CEO!H very protective of his lovie :)))))))))))))

It was Tuesday. Tiring Tuesday is what Y/N calls them to be because they lurk in the middle of week and drags you after a Monday. Today, it’s the worst fucking Tuesday since the day she started working at this company.

Harry offered her. More to say tried to convince her with his sweet puppy tactics, tried to lure her in with his seductive begging and would mumble the same thing in her sweaty neck while balls deep in her, “Please sweet toots ... promise I wouldn’t be there to take ye' interview, please work in my company.” He squished her sides in desperation. Y/N whined, mind too occupied in the way he’s leaking into her, the head of his cock angled to rub at her spongy wall making her hug herself into him.

“I could be a very hard boss in my office, ‘s all ‘m saying.” He wiggled his brows at her playfully, hissing when his double joke earned him a tight fit around his prick and he was soon forgetting all of it when she canted her hips to let him slick deeper inside her.

It’s not that; Y/N doesn’t wants to work at his company. When her boyfriend asked her so sweetly and stout-heartedly. Call him a sap but he actually wants to be closer to her in every possible chance he gets – she gives him an unyielding amount of comfort and happiness when she’s with him.

There’s this silver of pride he wants to take (since he’s the biggest narcissists) in being a power couple, because in the end everything will be theirs.

But she doesn’t want to seem like she took advantage of him. She didn’t study and worked hard many years to be called dependent on her boyfriend. She wanted to find her first proper job herself – feel all the odds and jitters of her firsts after UNI.

Harry called the battles off knowing his little stubborn baby’s too much a wiggler and he believes in her and he’s very proud of her previous achievements, he just wants to see her happy working with him or not.

She indeed got it. She was finally a design editor at a grand magazine company, excited to meet her boss who’s one of her absolute favourite graphic designers in the industry.

Harry and her celebrated her baby step towards her success by going out at this cafe which had cats you can pet and love on.

He was blissed to see her this happy, considering it a win win situation. But she doesn’t need to know? Does she? And Harry didn’t do anything suspicious? Did he? Nobody even know who she's! And if Y/N wants that, he’ll have it that way.

Soon her enthusiasm deflated like a sorrowful balloon whirling in the air for seconds before falling on the ground and getting it’s existence neglected, because, her boss was the meanest bitch alive.

At the moment, Y/N forced the pertinacious lump of pathetic tears down her throat, not blinking to dry out the moisture threatening to fall from her waterline feeling humiliation creep up her skin and making her want to shrink into herself and never show her face.

She listens patiently and optimistically as her boss practically screams at her for not liking the designs Y/N worked to modify for damn 62 hours and the Karen still had an audacity to degrade, Y/N.

Y/N gasped, stumbling back in fright shock when the file that had her precious designs composed in it flew and hit Y/N, the ragged corner of it scratching Y/N’s delicate skin and her boss was spinning away from her to stare coldly at the bustling city outside through the window drowning into fumes and anger.

Y/N opened her mouth, guppy like. Wanting to say something back and call her out on her act but she felt like her voice got strangled into her chest.

ShitShitShitShit.

Hammering in her brain when she felt something warm oozing from her skin and she’s panicking, wiping a vicious streak of blood from her jaw with her trembly fingers and scuttled straight to the washroom before anyone was able to see her in such vulnerable condition.

She had enough of it and left out of there without a word to anyone, not even to her cubby mate. She bottled all the emotions that were rattling against her bones to flood out of her each pore, until she could reach her home and once she did she was having a humongous and ominously scary breakdown, glad that Harry was stuck in meetings and the house was all of hers to cry ugly.

Once she was all blue lips, puffy and swelled up cheeks and eyes, nest of a hairstyle and all burned up lungs she was calming herself down with deep breaths just Harry taught her.

Scrubbing and cleaning herself off then going to bed without waiting for Harry, something very rare and the right hit in the nail for him to know she isn’t feeling well.

He was welcomed by silence. No dinner, just leftovers in fridge and his insides became all crummy and not very pleasant when he tailed to the living room and wasn’t met by his lovebug; either cramming her head to sketch down designs with an ipad in her lap while a buzz of random Netflix show accompanies her, dossing off cutely with hundreds of her study journals and magazines messed around her on the floor, or her in sleeping pyjamas with food already set up on the coffee table and brightening the whole room with her squeals when Harry announces his presence.

None of that instead he finds her in their bedroom, drowned under layers of blankies and her stuffies with room lit dark.

He coos softly, mattress dipping down from his weight and his heart expands and melts all around his other organs at how adorable she looks sleeping in his hoodie. He chuckles shaking his head at the way she has the strings of the hoodie squeezed around her head, not sure how she’s able to breath at how tight it seems around her neck.

Doing his own routine he was slipping into the bed, sighing from the warmth and how toasty she has made the bed already.

He bunched her against his chest and kissed her head then spooned her up in his arms, lips fluttering into a smile when she hummed and sniffed basking into his scent.

“Oi sleepy.” He whispers down at her cupping her neck and giggles softly when she whines mushing her cheek against his chest only to grunt sleepily and muffle her yelps into his sweatshirt.

Harry’s brows shoots up into slight bafflement then dips down into a frown when he slipped his calloused palm under her hoodie to cradle her jaw and felt something graze against his thumb that was about to press into her soft skin to bring her for a night kiss.

“Hey...” He perches himself on elbows, switching on the lamps and ignores her groans grasping the blanket she was about to pull over herself, huffing at him to let her sleep but Harry’s more stubborn than her if it involves assuring himself she’s okay and right now she’s not and Harry was already feeling it in his bones.

“Lemme see.” He persists gently, peeling the blankets and the hoodie off her head while she’s still stirring into sleep not able to open her eyes how much she tries because of the exhaustion dumped on her from whole day.

He stares at the wound she did a shit effort to cover with a gauze messily over her jaw and tiny bit area of her neck, a long bandage reaching to her ear and Harry tries to think rationally and not freak out as he touches it with cautious fingertips.

“What ... the –- fuck, Y/N what is...is this?” His mouth falls slack. His ears buzzing for a moment and he wraps his arm around her shoulder to bring her up as he leans them against the bedhead.

He feels bad when she knuckles at her eyes warily and mumbles something that’s barely audible.

“What happened, baby? Talk t’me? How did y'hurt yourself so bad?” Worried and fearful. He bombs her with questions not waiting for her to be fully awake and his heart breaks miserly upon focusing his gaze on her face, her angelic face that’s now soaked with sadness –- she’s been crying.

His loves been crying and he wasn’t there for her.

“Who did this to you?” Y/N's eyes widens abruptly. The alertness in them vivid for Harry to see under the lamp glow and she gasps, nose twitching and lip wobbling as Harry grabbed her chin and ducked to her eyelevel to ask her tenderly with a layer of strictness under his tone, “’M asking, Who did this to you, Y/N?” Her fragile heart could already take so much and she strangled out a sob lowering her head down in embarrassment.

“’M.. I’m —-.. no –..not telli –-..telling you,” She hiccups breathlessly, shaky fingers fisting onto the blanket thrown over Harry’s lap and he holds her hands kissing them gently, “I’ll know it one way or another baby. Don’t force me to get outta my way to find —–“ His soul stabbing glare was enough for Y/N to ramble and at first he thought he didn’t heard her right, that she was mumbling too much but when the reality seeped in gradually Harry almost froze in his spot.

“I know it’s very shameful —..” Y/N stammers barely able to get in a breather and Harry’s head snapped at her words, removing his nails away from making little graves in his palms and his jaw which almost felt like breaking from the hinges from how painfully furious he had it set relaxes as he tries to calm himself down and not to grab his keys and drive to that bitch's house to trash her place.

Because how fucking dare she treat anyone like that in his own fucking company.

“Hey, hey. Now none of that toots. Look at me darling, oh my sweet moppet ... shh.” It slices his heart in pain to see Y/N like this -- so small and disheartened. How dare she hurt his such delicate, sweet, loving girl like that? How!?

“You shouldn’t be ashamed of yourself moppet. She should be, fo’ being such a heartless prick.” He spat, his guts full of bitter and hatred. His skin hot, his grip on her tightening protectively and his chin quivers trying to lock all his anger inside and not to burst out like a pressure cooker.

“I’ll deal with her tomorrow.” He nods curtly to himself, poking his tongue to wet his grimacing lips and Y/N was too woolly to get what’s he’s saying.

His gaze flitters back on her. His demeanour turned incredibly soft and gentle for her smooching a big generous kiss to her salty lips and then to both of her cheeks cared in both of his palms, “Are y'okay? D'you want me to take you to hospital?” She shakes her head mewling and melting and caressing herself into his wrist.

“Why didn’t you call me baby?” He asks her doing anything in his power to mask the hurt in his tone and sighs touching his forehead to her's when Y/N sniffled, “Didn’t wan’ you to worry.” He slid his forearm under her bum and scooched her atop of him, patching tiny careful pecks to her jaw.

“But, that’s love moppet. Worryin’ bout you, takin’ care of ye' and beating anyone raw who even dares to have evil intentions towards you,”

“Remember the time y'snubbed that one guy’s oh so expensive shoes who was very rude to me at one of your graduations party?” His simper turning into a proper ironic grin when she giggled hoarsely nodding along and the tension in his muscles released watching her getting better.

“Proper broke his big toe with your heel darling.” He giggles with her and then Y/N realised how sad and awful Harry’s feeling, how it’s hurting him the same way it hurt her an year ago.

“How about we have a glass of milk .... it’ll help us sleep less grumpy y'know.” He murmurs in the crook of her neck, elbow cocooned safely around her shoulder blade as he kisses the side of her head again and again nose buried in her hair to smell her treacly smell.

In the morning he was tragic to hear Y/N sound so heartbroken and dejected as she told him, “I’m going to resign and accept your offer.” Her smile small and sad, hugging him looping her limbs around his torso lazily.

“’kay baby, but first eat your brekkie.” He kissed her hair and squished her pout when he moved away to make some calls to his assistant.

Y/N had no-idea what he was upto. Glad that he was driving her to the company and that he was immensely supportive of her decision, her insides pooled with warmth and giddiness when he tried to cheer her up with his silly jokes and singing along the radio murmuring rubbish whenever he forgot the lyrics.

She was utterly confused when upon reaching he was giving the keys to valet boy to park his car and interviewing their fingers in a strong grip before leading her inside, even though she should be the one to do so.

She sputters a, “Huh?” when instead of telling her he’d wait for her in the lobby he’s rounding the corner towards the elevators and turns his wrist to push her infront of him to keep her closer to himself all the time.

When the doors are sliding apart the people scurrying outside halts for a moment, not looking Harry in eyes and keeping their heads low.

Phones were already rung in the building that Mr. Styles will be coming un-announced and everyone should be prepared to face the consequences if they stumble upon him – because well he isn’t in such a nice mood to start with.

“Harry.” She pokes him in ribs feebly, stepping away from him feeling timid due to few pair of eyes in elevator watching her awkwardly and maybe judgingly.

The tension in space could be cut through knife, as if everyone’s holding their breaths and she pouts taking a good look at Harry who’s smirking smugly confident in his element.

Do they all think her boyfriend’s way too intimidating and out of reach for them? They should know he’s such a sweetie!

Y/N huffs. Folding her arms over chest when Harry paws at her hips and pulls her back against his chest resting his chin atop of her head with a shit eating grin.

In all seriousness. Showing them that’s she’s his's and belongs under his wings, which will keep her safe and protected till his death.

“How did you know my boss's office’s on tenth floor?” She squints up at him suspiciously.

“Hmm. Dunno, moppet. Magical powers or summat?” He teases her, putting a hand at the small of her back to nudge her forward making her blush pink and ducks down to whisper in her ear, “You got this toots.” Biting her earlobe playfully to stroke down her anxiety upon sensing her hesitancy to step in the hallway that has cubicles lined up.

He already got this. He ordered his assistant to get the resign letter ready and showing her who’s the boss here’s not much of hurdle for him.

It’s weird. Bloody weird. Y/N wants to turn back and run away because the moment they step inside the whole damn hallway falls eerily pin drop silent and everyone’s peeking up from the short walls of their cubicles and then diverting their eyes immediately in embarrassment and apology seeing Harry behind her.

The ones who’re standing bows their heads lightly in respect for him and scurrying away to give him a way and that’s insanely surprising and weird.

Harry on the other hand was no stranger to those bogey looks. Of curiosity, uneasiness and dread when he passes through the crowd of his employs. Y/N is.

Slowly perhaps. It starts to sink in— jumbled and disoriented when she looks back at Harry. He’s keeping his head held high and shoulders tilted back with poise and conceitedness, hands stuffed into the pockets of his pants and because though it makes him look like a proper snob— he is their boss and the owner of this company, he should act like one.

“Mr. Styles.” Y/N’s boss assistant Marina who’s usually very chirpy (and undeserving of all the yelling she gets from her boss) turns pale at Harry’s presence. She’s the only person Y/N's very keen of, now she’s fretting towards them with her head lowered and tries to stammer something but Harry’s walking past her with his lips pursued as he goes inside without knocking.

“Harry...” Y/N tattles behind him, lunging to clutch onto the hem of his suits coat, to scold him to stop babying her and let her handle it herself, too late since she’s already meeting with the sight of her overly stressed and upset boss.

Her knees almost gives in when Harry snaps his fingers for the employees that were inside to give them privacy and takes in the most relaxing breath of oxygen, feeling a gag of bitterness in his mouth from even looking at her.

Y/N gasped. Her boss (which she’s not sure is her boss anymore) gasped. The sweet assistant Marina gasped. When Harry told her in the most composing way– though his blood’s boiling absolutely sheathing through his veins.

“You’re fired.” His demeanour cold and voice monotone not giving a fuck how much she shakes and cries for his forgiveness.

“Mr. Styles. I..I can explain–-" She stammers rushing from the back of her desk and stops obediently when Harry gestures her to not to take another step forward.

“There’s no excuse for abuse. I don’t want your lame explanations, I can’t have an abusive asshole running my company for me ... we might be strict on our employees but we aren’t monsters.” He grits, his eyes flaring piercingly with rage and showing no empathy towards her as she pleads him to forgive her mistake– those bricks of money makes you work baby.

“You hurt someone so dearly to me ‘n think I’ll forgive ye'?” The assistance eye’s blows away at newfound information, Harry Styles love of life’s none other than Y/N. The girl she used to have smoked sandwiches and milkshakes with in their lunch breaks.

“I didn’t know ...” He chuckles ironically at her hypocrisy and that’s the last straw for him before he’s threatening her to call the security and she’s getting out of there cursing him under her breath but Harry grabs her from elbow roughly, conceding his brow at her dauntingly.

"Apologise to her right fuckin' now."

"Sorry, Mrs Styles. I'm very ashamed of what I did." She says nervously and Y/N nods not able to speak from the butterflies that are flapping around her stomach, which sure didn't go unnoticed at Harry's side and he smirks at Y/N.

When they’re left alone. Jovial cackles are bouncing against the walls and he’s pressing his hip to the desk, securing his hands around his triceps as he folds his arms infront of his chest entertaining himself to the cute and fuzzy reactions of his girl at what just happened.

“See. Told ya, nobody could defy my bossiness at work.” He grins at her, jerking his hand towards his chest to usher her closer to him and boops her nose smacking an obnoxiously loud kiss to her mouth when she toddles in his arms.

“The offers still there,” He looks down at her cheekily and she shakes her head, a small smile kicking up her lips at his determination and devotion.

“Couldn’t say no to you, could I? What will you be owning secretly next time?” She nips at him, planting her palms firmly against his midriff feeling the crispiness of his shirt underneath his jacket.

“A bakery shop ....?” He muses in the most pondering voice and she scoffs at him through pattering of giggles, “Suck it up Mr. Styles.”

“Hey! I know my prick’s huge but not tha’ much for me to suck it myself.”

Y/N chokes onto her own spit. Shaking her head at him.

“Your innocent employees knows how vulgar you’re?”

“Uhmm. Infact, She gets very hot hearin’ me like tha'.” He bobs his head grinning at her wickedly and she smacks his shoulder, “Harry!”

“Yeahhh! Tell everyone how good I make you feel babbbyy—....” Y/N clamps her hand around his mouth to muffle his lewd fake moaning.

“You’re so embarrassing.” She grumbles wiping his spit sticking to her palm down her skirt and spins around to head for the door expecting him to follow her.

“You don’t talk to boss like that!” He trails behind her, “Boss my ass!” She quips out a squeal looking around to make sure that nobody saw it when Harry slapped her bum.

“Boss someone’s ‘bout to get a pink ass.”

#ceo!harry #ceo!h x y/n #ceo!h x reader #ceo!h x fem!reader #harry stylss angsty drabble #harry styles one shot #harry styles blurb #harry styles smut #harry styles #cute harry #harry smut #harry styles fanfiction #fluff #harry angst #hsh #dom harry

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fandomwriterstuff · 3 years ago

Text

A Seat at the Round Table (7)

Mob!Stucky x Female Reader

Rated T

~1.5k words

TW: violence (not graphic)

You must have drifted off despite the cold, because the next thing you noticed was the creaking of a door and a bright light invading your dark space. You squinted, looking over at the door while you wiggled your fingers and toes to try and get some feeling back into them.

“Who’s there?” You called, but your voice came out soft and scratchy.

“We’re here to pick you up, kiddo,” and you watched in surprise as John and Lemar walked through the bright entrance, only to watch as they both skidded to a halt. You watched dazedly as a variety of emotions skittered across their faces. “The boss is not going to be happy about this,” John muttered and Lemar nodded, coming over to you and tilting your chin from side to side with his fingers.

“Your father said he would pay big money for anyone who found you and delivered you here,” Lemar muttered as he examined you, but your neck was stiff and your head was throbbing so it hurt like hell. “They weren’t supposed to hurt you. And it’s freezing in here.”

“They took my coat,” you whispered. You were still frightened but your eyes were dry as you tried to process what was happening.

“They also got a good knock on your head, there,” he commented and brushed his fingers softly against the throbbing part of your head.

“Why would he have them bring me here? Why am I tied up?” You asked, your brain finally kicking into gear. You wondered where Sharon was, whether she got Arthur and Merlin involved. Your first idea was to stall until they could find you, but you were supposed to trust John and Lemar… You were confused and your head hurt.

“We were told you struggled,” John commented in a dry tone from across the room.

“Well yeah! Someone dragged me off the street and chloroformed me! Of course I struggled!” You countered and Lemar raised his eyebrows.

“If this ever happens again, I’ll make sure your father specifies that you are to be approached visibly and not attacked. And also not tied up in a freezing room. Sound good?” Lemar offered a little smile but you frowned.

“If he didn’t want me being kidnapped and held in a fucking room alone for hours freezing half to death, he shouldn’t have gotten me into this situation,” you spat, your anger coming back in full force as Lemar untied your hands. “How does that sound? Maybe next time he shouldn’t get involved in shady shit.”

Once you were untied, you stood on shaky legs and rubbed your hands up and down your arms, trying to lessen the chill.

“You wouldn’t be complaining if you knew about all the things your father does for you,” John spoke and you snapped your head towards him (instantly regretting it as a wave of dizziness came over you, but you tried to ignore it).

“You don’t get to speak to me like that, John Walker,” you growled, and noted in the back of your head that another door in the building opened and closed in the distance. You were starting to trust Arthur, Merlin, and their trusty knights more than your own guards and father. You hoped it was them. “It’s your job to make sure I don’t get hurt. And I’ve been dragged around in the snow, tied up, and left to-”

You were cut off as the door creaked open yet again. This time you had a better vantage point to analyze the room. John stood nearest the door, and Lemar stood equidistant between the two of you. You stood and watched as Merlin tapped on John’s shoulder, much to his clear surprise. You rolled your eyes as your trained guard was shocked by someone you heard come in.

“Who are you?” John asked suspiciously, reaching for a weapon, but in a split second Merlin disarmed him and had the bullets out of his gun, clattering onto the floor.

Arthur ducked through the doorway after him, looking around until he spotted you. You tried to look strong, but you were freezing, trying not to cry, and seeing their strong figures coming to your rescue made you weak in the knees.

“Hey,” you waved brokenly at the two newcomers.

“You know these guys?” Lemar asked, standing between you and the rest of them.

You could tell this would be a turning point for you, and time seemed to pause as you took in the situation. You could go with John and Lemar, leave the other two men behind and go back to your father. At the risk of him stealing more money and information and getting the both of you killed. Or you could tell John and Lemar to screw themselves, and go with Merlin and Arthur. Leave your father’s men and tell them to stop looking for you. You would gain safety with your knights in shining armor, but would be rejecting the only family you’d ever known.

“I do,” you spoke firmly, brushing past Lemar and approaching the now unarmed John alongside Merlin and Arthur. “These men have been keeping me safe and protected while your boss, my father, put my life in danger. They’ve been nothing but generous and helpful, while all my father has done is lie and get me kidnapped. So if you excuse me,” you shot John a glare. “I’ll be leaving now. Give my father my regards,” you spat. You didn’t expect John and Lemar to stay silent while you left, and you were right. John snatched your wrist with an iron grip and you winced. The place where your hands were tied was raw and bruised and he was only making it worse. He went to speak, but Merlin was quicker.

“If you let her go now, I’ll let you keep your hand,” he growled and John was smart enough to let you go, but not without sending a sneer in your direction.

“Didn’t take you for a whore, little girl,” and those were the last words John uttered before Arthur stepped in and decked him, knocking him out in one hit. Lemar ran over to his buddy to check on him, and it was enough of a distraction for Merlin and Arthur to whisk you out of there. You were ushered through several dark hallways before you emerged back into the windy New York day. You squinted at the sun, and soon found yourself squeezed between Merlin and Arthur in the backseat of an SUV with Sam driving and Sharon sitting in the passenger seat.

“Where’s your coat, little dove?” Arthur asked you, voice quiet and comforting. You were enjoying the warmth that came from sitting between two human space heaters, and dug your face further into the navy scarf still miraculously wrapped around your neck.

“Gone,” you muttered. In response, he extended his hand to hold yours, that little extra bit of warmth giving you comfort. You were sagging, slowly melting into a puddle as stress and the throbbing headache took over again. You zoned out until you arrived back at the estate you were staying at, the place Sharon had called “the compound.”

“We’ll take it from here, pull the car around please,” Arthur was speaking to Sam, and you let Merlin hold your hand and lead you into their home and up into what must have been their bedroom. It was different from where you were staying but you couldn’t find it in yourself to soak it in.

“Let’s clean you up.”

You were sitting on a bench at the foot of the bed and soon Merlin was wrapping a plush blanket around your shoulders while Arthur came back with a warm, wet washcloth and began to clean up our face. You weren’t exactly shocked when you saw dried blood come away on the fabric. That would explain the throbbing.

“My head hurts,” you muttered, the events of the day finally catching up to you. Your hands were shaking and you couldn’t parse out what the two of them were saying, too tired and stressed to focus on the words they were speaking. As your body warmed and your wound was cleaned, your mind recognized this as a safe place. Merlin’s flesh arm was wrapped around your shoulders and Arthur was kneeling in front of you holding your hands when you finally began to cry. You cried, and you sniffled, and you shook as the emotions you’d been holding back all ran through your system.

One thought came to the surface though that wasn’t overshadowed by your shock, pain, or fear. That was that you wouldn’t forgive your father for this ridiculous act of violence towards you. He may not have tied you up and hit you himself, but he was responsible.

Part 6 Part 8

Hello readers! Sorry for the slow update, I usually post a chapter once I have the next one written, but the home life has gotten a little stressful as of late, so I am behind in writing. Update should be soon though. Please comment if you liked it! Likes and reblogs are also welcomed <3

#stucky #stucky x reader #steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #steve rogers x bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x steve rogers x reader #mob!stucky #mob!steve rogers #mob!bucky barnes #female reader #avengers fanfiction #marvel fanfiction #fanfiction #marvel #avengers #au #alternate universe

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happys-crazy-queen22 · 3 years ago

Text

Some Like It Rough

Gif credit @bodybebangin

18+ fic. SMUT SMUT AND MORE SMUT.

Taglist @ackles-nhl. @cbouvier23.

Hope everyone enjoys it.

Happy reading dollies

"I needed you. Where were you tonight"? Kayce sat on the edge of the bed holding his ribs.

"I was out with Beth". You leaned over and grabbed the medical bag.

"For six hours"!? Kayce hissed when you pressed on his side.

"We talked, she drank...a lot. Then we played some pool at the bar". You tell him wrapping his ribs up.

"Meet any guys"? Kayce nibbled on his lip, looking up at you.

"Not this again. I didn't talk to anyone except Beth and the bartender".

"Was he a guy"!? Kayce grunted as he tried to lay down on the bed. You huffed and put the medical bag back in the bathroom.

"Yes, he was. We hooked up in the bathroom while Beth table danced. He also has a wife and a kid on the way". You lied about two things but Kayce didnt care even if you joked. He was jealous.

"I think you should go stay with your parents. We need some time". Kayce sighed, getting comfortable in the bed.

"Why? So you can go fuck every girl you see? Thats what you want? Go for it". You aggressively grabbed your duffel bag and started stuffing your clothes inside. "You wanna know something, the whole time we talked we talked about you and I. Like I couldn't shut up about you. Beth was there ask her. Because I know she wont lie for me". You scoffed and grabbed your keys.

"Y/N, I'm sorry".

"I'm tired of your sorrys. You start a fight and then apologize. We never solve anything. I'm sick of it. That's all we do, since you got back. You need to grow up and figure out what you want whether it has me in it or not. Figure out your shit". You slammed the door behind you. Kayce had a lot to think about. First he hated being alone when he was hurt. He needed comfort. So he went to his big sister.

"So what was this fight about this time"? Beth lit up a cigarette.

"What happened at the bar"? Kayce relaxed in his rocking chair with a groan holding his side.

"We talked and I got a drink. What's all this about? I thought you two were good"?

"We were but I guess my jealousy took over. She came home looking good. Guys must have talked to her. Drooling over her and shit".

"The only guy we talked to was the bartender. He was nice. But married".

"So you didn't table dance"? Kayce chuckled when he figured out he was an asshole.

"Hell no. I'm not that drunk". Beth laughed.

"I think you owe her more than just a shit I'm sorry. You need to fuck her brains out". Beth looked at Kayce seriously.

"I'm not talking about this with you". Kayce gasped getting up from the rocking chair.

"I'm a girl. I know what we want. We want a hard rough fuck and a man that knows what the hell he wants. Not some chicken shit. So grow up and tell that girl you love her. And fuck her brains out". Beth sat back in her chair proudly. She knew her shit.

"Well, it'll have to be a slow fuck cause I'm banged up". Kayce laughed with a hiss.

"Just give her that dick good and she'll know you love her".

"Oh my god. I'm leaving. My sister just said good dick in the same sentence. Have a good night. Thanks". Kayce struggled as he tried leaning over to kiss Beth's head.

"That was the pg version. I could've gone graphic. You know me". She laughed as Kayce shook his head and limped down to his car.

Kayce knew what he wanted. He wanted you. He needed you. Kayce called your cell and nothing. He called your parents, nothing. He was starting to get worried. But he knew you wouldn't go stay with friends cause they would tell so he searched at the hotels around. Only two near the house. One was a nice place and the other was a hole in the wall.

"Is there a Y/N Dutton registered here"? Kayce asked the night clerk at the front desk of the nice place.

The lady typed on the computer. "Sorry no ones named that here".

"Can you try Y/N Y/L/N"? Kayce knew if you didnt use the Dutton last name then you would use your last name.

"She's here. Room 204. But am I allowed to give you her number? You a serial killer or something"? She was hesitant on giving Kayce the key.

This made Kayce chuckle. "No ma'am, I'm her boyfriend. We're in a long distance relationship right now but she's thinking about moving here". Kayce made up something so she would give him the key.

"Alright but if I find her in the morning dead, I saw your face and I will identify you. I'm not scared of you". The clerk pulled out a shotgun.

"Yes, ma'am. That's not going to happen though. You may hear some screaming and moaning but that's not from what you're thinking of". Kayce blushed a little but was honest, he didnt want her busting in and pointing that shotgun at him.

"You do you, boo. Go get your girl". She smiled and patted his hand as she passed him the key. Kayce snickered and started up the what felt like a hundred stairs. He groaned and grunted as he walked up holding his side. In his mind he was just hoping he was able to make you moan and not pass out at your feet.

Kayce knocked on the door. "Who is it"? Kayce heard your voice and smirked.

"Room service". Kayce disguised his voice.

The door opened and his eyes went wide, you cracked the door open in a towel. You had just got out of the shower.

"Kayce, what are you doing here"?

"Um, I, god you're beautiful". Kayce stepped in, licking his lips. He grabbed you by the waist and captured your lips with his. He closed the door behind him with his boot and your towel fell to the floor.

"Kayce"? You gasped when Kayce lifted you up, your legs immediately went around his waist. His calloused hands dug into your back as he kissed you.

Kayces knees hit the bed and he slowly laid you down. He released your lips and stood back.

You closed your legs and covered your chest. "Don't hide from me". Kayces husky voice made you tremble. Your inner thighs became wet. The heat from your center was radiating off of you.

Kayce smirked as he brought his shirt over his head and threw it across the room. He kicked off his boots and unbuckled his pants, letting them fall to the floor. When he first came he was hurting but as soon as he saw you. What pain?

He was already so hard. He could have hammered a nail with his hard on.

"Open your legs, baby. Let daddy see". Only a few times has Kayce went daddy and every time the night was amazing so you hardly ever done it so it could be special.

You let out a squeak, your legs falling open. Kayce smirked to himself when he saw how wet you were already. He took his middle finger and touched your clit. You thought you could have came right there. You bit your lip to quiet your moans.

Kayce chuckled, his slipped his fingers through your slit with ease, massaging your with his palm. "You like when daddy does this, dont you"? Kayce evil chuckled. You nodded.

Kayce bent down and got on his knees, he grabbed you by the hips and pulled you to the edge of the bed. He started kissing your inner thighs. His beard tickled, but you loved it.

"Mmm". You started to buck your hips but Kayce held you down with his strong hands.

"Someone's eager". Kayce was inches away from your clit, you felt his hot break on your pussy lips. You felt yourself get wetter.

Kayce took the tip of his tongue and flicked your clit. Making you whimper to be touched.

He flattened out his tongue and pressed hard against your clit and started wiggling his tongue.

"Fuck". You gasped, your hand went to his hair.

He sucked on your clit, his middle and index finger teasing your entrance then slowly pushing in. It was driving you crazy for him not to be rough on you.

"Daddy". You moaned his name and he went faster. It encouraged him to go rougher. His fingers went in deep and rough. His middle finger pushing against your g-spot. "Oh fuck". One hand tangled in his hair and the other one holding on to the sheets.

"I'm gonna cum". Kayce sucked you clit as he looked up at you, his fingers never losing their pace. "I'm cumming. I'm cumming". You screamed over and over as you felt your first orgasm take over your body. It trembled and shaked as he kept fingering. He let go of your clit with a pop. Your hand reached down and stopped his. You couldnt take it.

"Such a good girl for daddy". Kayce grinned smacking his lips as he climbed up your body. He helped you scoot up the bed. His eyes never leaving yours. You let out a giggle, a blush upon your face.

"I just wanted to say...". You cut Kayce off by a kiss to the lips.

"Shut up and fuck me". You pulled Kayce on top of you. Wrapping your legs around him, a knot tied with your legs so he couldnt go anywhere.

"Yes, ma'am". Kayce gladly did as he was told. He lined himself up and pushed in. God, he stretched you in all the right places.

"Fuck, baby". Kayce mumbled into your skin of your chest. He started kissing along your collarbone, kissing your neck.

Kayce picked up his pace and his thrusts were deep and long. His hands resting on your back.

"I love you. I'm sorry for being jealous". Kayce spoke between kisses and thrusts.

"I forgive you". You kissed his chest and nibbled at his ear lobe. "I love you so much. Fuck". You threw your head back into the bed when Kayce thrusted in the right angle. God, did he know your body or what.

"You gonna cum again"? Kayce chuckled as he felt you start to squeeze his cock. You let out a whimper and a nod.

"Cum for daddy". Those words sent you straight to the stars. Your orgasm exploded around Kayce. His cock still thrusting as your orgasm still fired away. He was close. So close. Your walls were milking him.

"Fuck". Kayce grunted, his head fell to your chest as he came. His hot seed covered your walls. You wrapped your arms around him and held him as both your orgasms exhausted both of you. You laid there until he went soft and he pulled out of you. Getting under the covers, Kayce pulled you into his arms with a kiss to your sweaty forehead.

"I'm truly sorry that I always let my jealousy get in the way of our relationship. I'm going to work on that. Because I know you would never cheat on me". Kayce said as he cuddled you in more.

"I would never cheat on you, ever. Especially after that. Holy fuck that was amazing. You definitely out did yourself there Mr. Dutton". You giggled, moving a piece of hair from his face.

Kayce chuckled. "You'll have my sister to thank for that. She told me what you wanted".

"So you did talk to Beth and found out that I'm a good girl". You teased.

"I know that's a lie. But I know that you want me and I want you. I was just being bullheaded. I'm sorry".

"I forgive you. Now". You cleared your throat. "How bad are your ribs hurting"?

"Not to bad. Why"? Kayce eyed you.

"I want a ride again, cowboy". You pushed him on his back and climbed aboard the Kayce train. You were never getting off no matter how jealous Kayce was or how angry you were about it. You both loved each other and that wasn't going to change.

#kayce dutton fanfiction #kayce dutton x reader #kayce dutton #Kayce Dutton imagine #kayce dutton smut #yellowstone fanfiction #yellowstone smut #yellowstone imagine #yellowstone #Yellowstone tv #beth dutton #happys-crazy-queen22

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ragingbookdragon · 3 years ago

Text

Batsis & Green Lantern, Sittin’ In A Tree. K-I-S-S-I-N–Wait, Is That Our Sister? PT. 2

Kyle Rayner x Batsis One-Shot

Word Count: 3.3K Warnings: NSFW (Slightly), Explicit Language Tags: @starflyer-104

Author's Note: Hi I finished this! Enjoy! -Thorne

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Oddly enough, she didn’t make Kyle do anything other than design the first month he was at Wayne Manor. And she was true to her word. He had an entire room to himself, and the room was as big as his whole apartment, bigger if he was honest; and that wasn’t all—he had every instrument an artist could ever want, even some of the newest drawing tablets and pens that hadn’t even come out yet. Limited edition first pick that only someone like her could get her hands on by merely flashing that pretty smile and her last name of “Wayne”. It was a graphic artists dream come alive, and Kyle was afraid that he was going to wake up from it that he never once tried to pinch himself to see if it was a dream or not.

Surprisingly enough though, (Y/N) was being awfully nice to him too. She’d taken him shopping a bunch of times, a whole new wardrobe and even thrown in a new phone and laptop. Of course, Kyle wasn’t a fool and immediately confronted her about using her purchases to hold it over him. That was the one instance in which she wasn’t awfully nice because she sucker-punched him and told him to never call her a manipulator ever again. That she had never once used a purchase to force someone into something—she was a bitch but she wasn’t that kind of bitch.

He even questioned Jason about it once they got back to the manor and his friend cackled at the nice shiner he’d received. (Y/N) doesn’t buy things for people to make them do what she wants. She buys things for people because that’s how she shows she’s fond of them. Honestly, if she buys you what you want, especially if you ask for it, that’s how you know she thinks you’re a friend of hers. Just let her spoil you for a while, Rayner. You’ll miss it when you have to go back to NYC.

Kyle relented then, instead of fighting her on paying for everything, he watched her. Watched her when he asked for something. Just for a split second she’d get a look of honest surprise in her eyes before that smirk crossed her lips and she’d toss it in the basket before picking up her own needs. He found it almost endearing, the way she acted, like she wasn’t expecting him to ask for anything. And Kyle especially liked that look in her eyes. It made his heart beat a little faster when she gazed at him with those big eyes.

And while he did love that look, it only lasted for one month. Hell had come to the manor, and Kyle was smack in the middle of it.

***

“Good morning family!” she greeted cheerfully, placing her hands on Kyle’s shoulders. She received various replies, some happy, some tired, and Kyle gave his own.

“Morning, (Y/N). You seem happy.” He cut into the buttery waffle and started bringing the fork to his mouth when she grabbed his hand and gently but firmly, took the utensil into her mouth. Kyle couldn’t help but go slack jawed as she chewed and swallowed, offering him a smirk.

“I’m sorry,” she purred. “Did you want that?” His mouth opened and closed, and she pushed the plate forward, replacing it with a tall smoothie shaker that was a bright, sickly green.

“Uh…” he started, looking between the shaker and her. “What’s that?”

(Y/N) nodded at it. “That’s your breakfast for this morning.” She flipped the cap open. “It’s got spinach, kale, bananas, vanilla flavored protein powder, pineapple, mint leaves and spirulina.” She grinned. “It’s got all the protein and greens you need for the start of this wonderful day.”

“I don’t even know what spirulina is.” Kyle remarked.

“Blue-green algae super-food.” (Y/N) nodded at it. “From now on you’re going to drink smoothies every morning and then we’re going to weight train and run every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday.”

Her family started snickering around the table and Kyle swallowed thickly daring to ask, “And Tuesdays and Thursdays?”

She grinned wickedly at him. “Combat, Rayner.” Handing him the shake, she quipped, “Drink up me hearties.”

“Yo ho.” Kyle whimpered when he sniffed it and gagged.

***

“C’mon weakling,” she nagged. “You’ve barely gotten through the second set. Don’t tell me you’re already tired.”

Kyle groaned as he pushed the weighted bar up, holding it for a second before letting it fall. “I told you I can bench press one-hundred. You put one-twenty on this bar,” he griped through gritted teeth.

(Y/N) smirked. “Feel that pain though? It’s weakness leaving your body.” She grabbed the bar with one hand, pulling it up and onto the hold; she grinned as Kyle panted, chest heaving up and down with every sharp intake of breath.

“I—don’t know—how you do this—everyday.” He gasped and she snorted.

“No pain, no gain, Rayner.” She walked around him, and Kyle was too weak to keep his eyes off her as she did. “Oh, I can’t wait for tomorrow,” she cooed, throwing a leg over his hips, lowering onto his thighs.

Kyle’s throat tightened and he gazed at her as she leaned forward, propping her elbows on his chest, staring into his eyes. “Pretty close there,” he panted and (Y/N) smiled.

“Closer the better in my opinion.” Her eyes narrowed bemusedly. “From here I can get a good view of your form.” She pulled away. “You’re using your lower back to push strength into your arms. This time, use your chest and shoulders. Deep breath when you push up, breathe out when you lower, okay?”

He nodded, grabbing the bar again. “What set now?”

“Three. Five reps.” (Y/N) pressed a hand to his abdomen. “Core muscles tight. Glutes tight. Keep the stability and use your upper body muscles alright?”

“Got it.” He said, pulling the bar off and she felt his pelvis start to push upwards and she splayed her fingers.

“Chest, Kyle. Not your hips.” He grunted, trying harder, and she put all her weight onto his hips, keeping them pressed down to the bench. It showed in his form as he improved almost instantaneously. “Nice job,” she murmured. “Keep going.”

He got to the fifth rep, starting to go up, when she purred, “Your arms are very strong, Kyle. I wonder just how strong.”

Something in her voice made his heart stutter and he forgot momentarily what he was doing. The bar shifted downwards, and he gasped as it came down at him; (Y/N) reached out, quick as lightning and grabbed it with both hands, standing from his legs to put the bar back.

She looked down at him, concern in her eyes. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” he breathed. “Sorry…lost my grip.” (Y/N) nodded and shimmied away, holding out a hand to him. “Thanks,” he said, letting her pull him up.

“Take five and go get some water, alright?”

He wanted to shake his head, tell her no, that he could keep going, but he thought against it and started for the water fountain in the corner. As he bent over, he happened to look back at her, seeing her bent over, stretching her legs. Heat pooled low in his gut, and he groaned, turning his eyes away.

“Jesus Christ,” he hissed. “Get a grip.”

“Let’s go, Rayner!” she called out behind him. “We’ve got two miles to run!”

Kyle let his head hand and he groaned again.

***

Compared to the day before, getting his ass kicked wasn’t as bad as it had seemed. That being said, (Y/N) wasn’t pulling her punches with him and he hadn’t managed to lay a single hit on her an hour in.

He gasped as she dropped him onto his back and he laid flat, gazing at the ceiling before him; she leaned over him, a cocky smirk on her face. “Need a break?”

“I’m not a novice in hand to hand. I trained with J’onn J’onnz for a while.” He countered with a glare and surprisingly, she nodded, rather impressed.

“I can tell in your form. You counter like he does.” (Y/N) bent down and gently swept away the sweaty hair from his forehead. “You’re learning pretty quick though, if I do say so myself.”

Kyle’s face lit up. “Really? You think—”

“But I can see that it takes you getting your ass handed to you over and over again before the lesson sinks in.”

His face pinched and he griped, “I should’ve seen that coming.”

(Y/N) snorted and patted his head, mocking, “You’re learning.” She smiled. “Now get up. You’ve rested long enough.”

“UGHHH!” he groaned, climbing to his feet.

***

On the third month and final month of the project, Kyle noticed a major improvement in himself. Not only had he lost a few of those extra pounds from snacking, toning all over his body, he’d also managed to expand his stamina a great deal. (Y/N) had congratulated him when he managed to run the various miles without even breaking a sweat.

The designs had come in well too, and Kyle honestly had more money than he knew what to do with. Well, rent and utilities were his most prominent factor, but even then, the money he’d have left over would last him a long time. He almost felt sad when they got to the final week of the project, no longer needing drawings, he was mostly there to make sure the designs were made correctly and with good materials.

(Y/N)’d even given him one of the first sets they produced and even if he was used to seeing his drawings published, it was another thing to see his name on the tag with it. It made him giddy, and he didn’t know how to rope that in with the continued nagging in the back of his brain. That it was all ending in a week. No more breakfast being made, no more laundry done, no more seeing his friends all the time and patrolling with them…and no more (Y/N) constantly.

When he thought about that, Kyle’s chest started to tighten, heart starting to hurt a lot more than he wanted to admit. And he knew why—somewhere along the lines of (Y/N)’s continual ass-kicking and training, he’d fallen in love with her. With her crude attitude and cocky smirks, her proud demeanor and skill, her beauty and the occasional kindness she showed to people, but most importantly, the love she showed for her family.

Most people saw an arrogant bitch who could school people six ways from Sunday both verbally and physically, but what they didn’t see, was the care she paid to those she loved most. To Dick’s anger issues, to Jason’s frequent regrets, to Tim’s consistent depression, to Cassandra’s ever-evolving education, to Damian’s rapid growth, to her father’s hurting soul—she cared so deeply for them, would give anything for them, even her life if it meant. And that made Kyle want to fall at her feet and worship her.

That this beautiful woman who allowed people to talk about her and never cared to correct, was the greatest woman alive, the most loving, the most caring. And she was hard, she was, but her love was tough and those that received it, her siblings and her closest friends, they knew she loved them completely. Kyle knew she cared for him. He only hoped that she wanted more.

***

The production party had been held in France and Kyle had never seen so many elites in one spot that he wasn’t sure how to even drink from his champagne chute correctly. Luckily, (Y/N) had stayed with him all night, tucking herself in his side and covering when he faltered in front of someone who didn’t speak English. And God, there was something very sexy about the way her lips moved when she spoke fluent French.

The party lasted well into the night and by the time they got back to the penthouse, he was dead on his feet. The siblings had dispersed to their rooms and (Y/N) stayed up a bit to speak with Alfred and Bruce over the phone. Kyle lingered around the kitchen with her and when she hung up, she sighed heavily, pulling out the dangling golden earrings and removing the chunky diamond necklace that probably costed more than Kyle did.

Her eyes met his and she smiled tiredly. “Did you have fun tonight?”

“I did,” he said happily. “It was…interesting to see what your life is like.” He chuckled. “Well, your day life that is.”

(Y/N) huffed a laugh and he wandered around the island, daring enough to reach up and grab her shoulders, digging his thumbs into her muscles. She groaned and hung her head a bit.

“Feel good?” he questioned, and she nodded.

“I don’t typically wear heels unless it’s for a party and I remember why.” Sighing, she pulled away from his arms and he just barely managed to keep the sadness from crossing his face as she turned. “What about you? Are you okay?”

Kyle shrugged. “Feel like I could sleep for a few days straight, but isn’t that how we all work?”

(Y/N) snorted, then sighed wistfully. “I almost don’t want this night to end.”

“How come?” he asked, and she met his gaze.

“I like seeing you flounder like a fish in front of socialites.” He rolled his eyes and she laughed, shoving him lightly. “I’m joking.” She rested her hand on his shoulder. “It’s been fun having around the manor. I know Dick and Jason have enjoyed hanging out with you.” She smiled and pulled away. “You should come back around after tomorrow.”

(Y/N) bypassed him and started towards her room when he spun and called her. “(Y/N).” she stopped and looked at him, waiting, expecting, and Kyle decided to lay his cards to her, letting her decide. “Spend the night with me.”

For a moment, she was surprised, honest to God surprised, then she smiled sweetly, something he wasn’t really used to, and she murmured, “Come with me.”

And Kyle barely managed to keep himself from tripping over his own feet as he hurried after her.

***

“Shut the door behind you,” she said, and he knew that just from the tone of her voice that she was the one who held the power—not that he cared, all he wanted was her. He felt his heart lurch as the door closed and she motioned him to come behind her. “Mind unzipping me?”

Kyle swallowed thickly as he reached up and grasped the gold zipper, gently tugging it down to where it stopped just above her rear. He also happened to notice that she wasn’t wearing any undergarments and he cursed under his breath. “Fuck, (Y/N).”

She grinned and with one hand undid the buttons behind her neck, then reached back, pulling his hands until his palms were pressed to her bare skin. “Be a dear and slip my dress off for me, hmm?” she leaned back into his hands. “Shouldn’t be too hard now.”

Before Kyle knew what he was doing, his hands were moving underneath the fabric of her dress, around her waist and up her chest, gently grabbing at the flesh of her breasts. (Y/N) gasped, a sound so saccharine in his ears, and leaned her head back on his shoulder.

“Kyle,” she whispered and with his pointer fingers, circled her nipples. Another gasp escaped her as she arched into his touch and she turned her head to the underside of his jaw, sucking the skin at his neck.

“(Y/N),” he groaned, rubbing up against her rear. “Baby...”

She was pushing away from him then, much to his dismay and she spun around, grasping at his suit. “Take your clothes off. All of them. Now.”

All that commanding she was doing was shooting straight to his cock and he obeyed immediately, not even caring about the dress shirt as he ripped it open, the buttons scattering across the carpet. He’d just gotten to his belt when he saw (Y/N) pull down her dress and he almost collapsed on his weak knees when her body came into full view.

For three whole months he’d been slowly driven insane by her tight clothes, guiltily imagining what she looked like underneath during the night, more often than not, relieving the urge.

She smirked and walked up to him, digging her fingers into the top of his pants and turned, pulling him along. They reached the beg and she yanked, sending him backwards onto the bed with a grunt, and then she was climbing atop him.

“I thought you wanted—” he gasped when she grabbed him through his pants. “I thought you wanted me to be naked.”

(Y/N) winked and squeezed him. “I changed my mind.” Leaning close, she let her lips hover above his. “I wanna see how needy I can get you.”

Kyle glared at her and surged forward, sealing her lips in a kiss before he wrapped an arm around her waist, tipping them over. She groaned into their kiss and wrapped her legs around waist. He let his free hand roam her body, caressing her side, squeezing her hip, slipping beneath her leg to grab at the flesh of her thigh. Each grasp, each pinch, each touch had her gasping and Kyle rocked against her, moaning under his breath.

Her fingers busied themselves with his belt and when she got it open, she unbuttoned his pants, and pushed them down a bit. Kyle pulled back to help but the second his hands left her body, he knew he made a mistake because she locked her ankles and placed her hands on his shoulders, shoving back. His back hit the bed and she was on top of him again, this time pinning his hands beside his head.

“Bad boy,” she admonished. “You weren’t supposed to move.”

“Sorry,” he retorted, but he wasn’t. Not in the slightest. “Couldn’t help myself.” He accentuated his point with a deep roll of his hips, and she grip briefly weakened as she ground herself down on him.

“You’re going to help yourself.” She warned, eyes devouring him where he lay. “Every movement is fifteen minutes added to how long I’m going to tease you.”

Kyle grinned. “Yes ma’am.”

(Y/N) matched his grin and before he could even see her move, she had a pillow from the top of the bed placed on his chest, long side up, enough to cover her from sight.

“What are you—” The door opened, and he tipped his head back on the mattress, seeing Dick and Jason gaping at them from the doorway.

For a solid moment, they all stared at one another, too shocked to say a word, then Dick and Jason were letting out the girliest screams Kyle had ever heard them make and they slammed the door shut.

(Y/N) sighed heavily and pressed her face into the pillow. “Lovely. Now we’re going to be all over the group chats.”

Kyle blinked, looking up at her. “You think so?”

“I know so.” She looked at him. “I knew I should’ve booked a penthouse across from this one.” (Y/N) started crawling off him when he reached out and grabbed her hips, keeping her in place; she cocked a brow. “Really? Your mood’s not killed?”

A flash of green appeared in her vision, then the door locked, and he smirked at her. “Nothing can kill my mood for you.” He squeezed her tightly. “Is yours?”

“Not in the slightest.” She reached down and traced the smirk on his lips. “Do me a favor though.”

“Anything,” Kyle agreed, and she grinned wickedly.

“Call me ma’am again.”

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