#nothing she could do to stop it and if she did stop it she would destroy everything but she still feels like she let him down i think | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

inazuman · 19 hours ago

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FORSAKEN BY ALL THE GODS.

info: prince!kaiser x f!reader, enemies to lovers, fantasy au, arranged marriage, eventual smut. afab reader w she/her pronouns. reader has an established backstory and is not weak, reader’s appearance is nondescript. reader calls him “mihya” as they get closer. oliver and karasu are bffs in this lol. maybe some angst if you squint. happy ending!! plot is balanced with comedic moments.

synopsis: You will be killed by the one you love most. That line from his prophecy has haunted Kaiser his whole life. Against it all, you stand before him. Will you be the one to rewrite fate itself?

word count: 14k (please don’t let this scare you, i promise my writing is efficient)

a/n: this might be my magnum opus, i promise i poured my best dialogue and writing into this and it shows. if you consider reading like so seriously i will love you forever. also the smut is huge just like his cock <3 or my heart

Kaiser has been forsaken thrice fold. First, by his parents. His mother is said to be a beautiful woman that captured the hearts of all. His father could not bear her ultimate betrayal: leaving, causing him to wither away to nothing.

Kaiser guesses that this aspect of her runs in his blood after all.

The second and third time he is forsaken happen at once.

On the night that Kaiser is, by royal decree, anointed successor to the throne, he does as tradition dictates. He approaches the golden temple at the top of a mountain and mirrors the prophet within, sitting cross-legged in front of them.

The prophet gazes into the distance. And then, like a man possessed, they speak.

Lone Emperor who covets the throne, You will be killed by the one you love most.

Kaiser swears he feels even his heart stop at that. Cold rushes through him, the chill of it colder than anything he had felt at the front lines of war.

Forsaken by all the Gods —

The prophet stops, staring into the distance with a frown.

The silence is deafening. Noa, despite tradition, interrupts the ceremony and approaches the prophet, clicking his fingers in front of their face.

“The prophecy?”

The prophet’s eyes widen with fear. “I- I cannot.”

“What, are you afraid?” Kaiser scoffs. “The prophecy is bad as it is, it can’t get much worse than that.”

“No, I mean I cannot. The — the Fates! They’ve stopped speaking to me!”

“Excuse me?” Kaiser’s scowl is evident, and Noa swears that in any other situation, Kaiser would’ve moved for his sword and set his blade ablaze.

It speaks volumes that all he does is stare right at the prophet, fear barely contained in his eyes.

The prophet grips at Noa’s hand, forcing his gaze. “My lord, please believe me. This — in the history... it has never happened before. I swear it.”

Noa whistles, and the guards outside come rushing in. “Seize them,” he commands, and they stare at each other for a moment.

To seize and capture that which is considered holy? Is that not blasphemy?

Noa cares little, almost removing his sword from his sheath to do it himself. “What are you all waiting for?”

“My lord! I swear to you!” The prophet grapples towards Noa in spite of their hands being held behind their back, the guards barely catching them from falling to their knees. “The fact that I would admit this at all shows my loyalty to you!” The prophet gasps, breath coming fast.” I could have pretended, could have given a false prophecy. I did not. That’s the choice I made. That is all the proof you need.”

It’s convincing enough that Noa hesitates, taking a deep breath in. But he sees in the corner of his eye Kaiser’s state, sitting in the kind of stillness that you see before a battle, bent over at the bottom of the altar.

At that sight, Noa makes a single motion with his hand for the prophet to be taken away.

The room clears.

“Kaiser, I —”

Whatever comforting remark Noa might have made dies in his throat, because Kaiser laughs, a bitter and broken sound, that he would in the future rarely have his walls down to ever reveal again. He hides his eyes behind his hand and he laughs.

“Of course, my prophecy would come to something like this.” He drags his hand down across his face. “Forsaken by all the Gods.”

“It doesn’t matter.” Noa says it with conviction, and it’s enough for Kaiser to face him.

“Master?”

“You will still be the successor to the throne. As is your destiny.”

“My destiny?” Kaiser jabs a thumb to the now-empty seating. “We just heard my destiny.”

“What the gods have declared has nothing to do with me. I declare you the next to rule. That is all.”

Noa presses a hand to the crown of Kaiser’s head. “No one will know what transpired here. A tragic prophecy is a given. It is meant to be a trial of sorts, after all. Mine, too, was unpleasant. Though not nearly as dire.”

“What was yours?”

Noa breathes in deeply. “A twisted rivalry with a twisted man. One that was to be all-consuming to me.”

Kaiser scoffs. “A rivalry. Just train and win.”

Noa lets the comment pass, staring out of the temple and past the mountains. “The rivalry came and went. At the time, I felt it was the worst. I could not eat, sleep, or breathe without the thought of what he would do next on my mind. But I was lucky, that it passed.”

He motions for Kaiser to take his arm, bringing him back up to standing. “Yours will pass too, I’m sure of it.”

Kaiser waves his hand, gesturing at Noa to let go of him. It’s easy to say, easy to have faith when it is not your life that balances on the precipice.

Forsaken thrice: once, by his parents. Another, by the Gods. And third, by his own future lover. Kaiser curses the Gods and the Weaver for such a fate, for something possibly worse than death is looming over him.

You will be killed by the one you love most. That line has haunted his very being to this day.

The people do not know what causes their successor to turn so cold, as biting and harsh as winter itself. His quicksilver smile rattles bones, his sword is cutting like blood in snow.

The prophecy is on a need-to-know basis, and Kaiser has never been crueler. He trains, harder than ever. Enough that when an unmovable sword is found at the rocks of the ocean, he trains until he is able to pull it from the bank, wield it with one hand. Rumor has said it might take three men to carry, or that the night sky that shimmers across it is strong enough to kill even a god. His sole retrieval of it is proof to the people of his strength and stature, but compassion and love are rarely a topic of conversation with his name.

He focuses on his work. He does not take lovers. He barely sees others as friends. And he most certainly does not take a bride.

You appear before the throne and you do not bow. The scowl on Kaiser’s face at this says enough.

“You dare-”

“You have the sword.” You ignore Kaiser entirely, setting your sights completely on Noa.

The silence that follows is as large and wide as the ocean, but your gaze is sharp and keen, never faltering once until Noa speaks.

“Water sorceress,” Noa addresses you coldly, “or that’s what you told our people.”

“Yes.”

“You are not the only sorceress of water. Yet your power is second to none.” Noa stands, stepping down the stairs with heavy, thumping footfalls until he’s standing right in front of you. “They call you the water’s mistress, in the neighboring lands.”

“They do.”

He begins to circle you, like a hunter might before striking a deer. Standing next to you, his deep voice clear right next to your ear, he eyes you curiously. “They’re all wrong, aren’t they?”

You don’t answer. Noa takes that as answer enough.

“A power like that. Do you think me stupid?” He observes you, checks you visually for weapons, watches your hands to ensure you don’t call magic forth.

“Demigod.” He about spits the word from behind you, and yet all you do is tilt your head to catch him in your eye’s view.

“You are as well-informed as they say.”

“I am as logical as they come.”

“We are the same in that regard, then. So let’s get straight to the point.”

Noa returns back to the throne, seemingly satisfied with his observing, gesturing at you to continue.

“You have something belonging to me. A sword, heavier than most. Ancient, yet sharp. It is said to look like it contains a night sky.”

“The blade you’re speaking of was found by us, it is ours to keep.”

In the short silence that follows, Kaiser swears there must be irritation on your end, but you don’t show it. Instead, you take a deep breath in.

“The blade was thrown out of the heavens and spat out into this realm during a war between Gods.”

“Is that so? And how can you prove it’s yours?”

“I can wield it, unlike your people, who do not have the means to wield a sword as such.” You state simply.

Like rose grown blue, the impossible becomes possible. You can feel the divinity and the power that comes off the sword in waves the minute it’s unsheathed, your eyes widening. The ring of it is as familiar to you as your own skin, how could you not have felt its presence sooner? But Kaiser is fast, much faster than you expected, faster than he should be with a sword of that weight, that magnitude. Before you can turn your head, cold silver kisses your neck.

“This blade, sorceress?” He comes around from behind you, stalks around you just like his Master had, sword pointed like it may just draw blood from you at any moment. When you finally see his face, his sneer is wicked.

He takes pride in your wide-eyed gaze, your sharpened attention, but the lack of fear on your part grates at him. God-killing, they had called the blade. Yet you don’t shy away at all.

“Say we return the sword to its rightful owner,” Noa calls back your attention, “what would you offer us in return?”

“Offer in return? This sword does not belong to you. It is returned, as it should be.”

“This sword, with its divinity, could harm even a god.” Kaiser presses the blade closer to your neck, gleaming metal against your skin. “It protects this nation. What if the gods forsake us? If we return it to you, what would protect us against them then?”

“For what reason would they do such a thing?”

Kaiser barks a laugh. “Of course, there would be no criticisms from one of them. Water sorceress, demigod. Tell us, who are you, truly? What do your people call you, up there? No matter.” He lowers the sword, but leaves it unsheathed, its heavy weight balanced in his palm. A threat that at any moment, he may change his mind. “Those titles mean nothing to me. I have been forsaken, demigod. So know, I trust not even the gods.”

You sigh. Foreseeing a troublesome future has its cons, you suppose. Your queen would smile if you told her such.

“You ask for something with power in equal to or more than the blade. You asked me for my titles. I shall give you both.” The sleeves of your dress shimmer as you move them, and it’s in this moment that Kaiser notices they are not sleeves but water itself, cradled around your wrists like armor. “The Gods had bestowed on me the title Sword Maiden, and I offer myself and my services to you until the end of your line.”

That shocks the room like a bucket of cold water.

You turn to Kaiser, who stands beside the throne. You step forward once, and water rushes underneath that step, descending in waves over the floor as if it goes through it, a magic they have never witnessed prior. “You say the Gods have forsaken you? Let my presence be proof to you that they still watch over you.”

Kaiser scowls, “What sort of cheap trick is this?”

“My domain is truth. I cannot lie.”

“Oh, please.”

Your eyes narrow at him. “Would it help for you to press your sword against my neck once more?”

A goddess who cannot lie. Noa’s faith lies in logic, but he’s not one to look a gift horse in the mouth. His gaze flits between Kaiser and you before he seems to settle a decision in his mind.

“Until the end of Kaiser’s line.” Noa negotiates.

Kaiser’s gaze snaps to Noa. “You’re taking her up on this?”

You almost frown. “Fine.”

Noa quirks an eyebrow at you. “That simple?”

“Human lives move quickly.”

Kaiser eyes you curiously. “What happens when you lie?”

You blink at him. Once. Twice. Is that… almost a flustered look you have on?

He readjusts his grip on the blade. “Speak, sorceress.”

“Wh-What do you want me to say?!” You grip at your dress nervously, and that has him even more curious.

“I’m waiting here,” he sing-songs playfully.

“Before the lie can leave my voice, my neck swells up like a balloon, and chokes me.”

He smiles wickedly. “Demonstrate.”

Gods, if it wasn’t immoral, you could wring his neck right now.

You think, for even a moment, a simple lie. And in seconds, you’re almost suffocating on nothing, and Kaiser laughs. Laughs. A full laugh, bending at his knees.

“Oh gods, you’re like a pufferfish!”

You let go of the lie, taking heaving breaths. “Just because I have water capabilities does not mean I am a fish.”

In the midst of the conversation, Isagi leans against Noa’s side, a soft conversation full of worry.

“You’ll have to explain her presence to the council,” Isagi tells him, blue eyes wide with hesitation.

“Right, and your suggestion?”

“I have thought about it, considerably. If you say you hired her, with a force as powerful as her, the other nations may think you are to wage war. So… Given the heir’s… reputation,” Isagi’s gaze flits nervously between you and Kaiser. “If he is willing, she may be a good fit.”

Noa sighs. This, this exact theory, has been a conversation with the other members of his team for months. That a wife by his side would make him seem less chilling, make the transition to a new heir easier on the public, prevent outroar. It is one thing to feel that Kaiser keeps a nation safe, and another to love him as a ruler.

It’s an easy decision, but a hard conversation.

“Kaiser.”

He whips around, ceasing his antics quickly. “Master.”

Noa looks like he is about to say something to him, but hesitates, turning to you instead. Isagi nervously steps away from the dais, returning to his position.

“Goddess,” this time, there is no malice behind Noa’s words. “I accept your offer. However, your presence in this nation and in this castle must be explained appropriately. Should I bear you the title of my successor’s betrothed, would that be a title you’re willing to bear?”

Kaiser’s back straightens. “Excuse me?” he utters low.

“You do not have to bear children,” he specifies. “And you do not have to truly be wed.”

A goddess, to be betrothed to a mortal, as princely as he is, is a serious affair. Kaiser slides his gaze to Isagi, with the audacity to even suggest such. And yet, you seem to ponder it like a simple question.

“I see. As long as the sword is in my presence and protection, how you communicate with your nation is none of my concern.”

“So be it, then,” Noa agrees quickly. “I’ll have our people show you to a room.”

You nod, and are whisked away. The throne room, as if knowingly, empties quickly, guards rushing out to leave Kaiser alone with Noa.

“You made this decision for me,” Kaiser spins to face Noa, spits his words through gritted teeth. “I have been clear. I will take no brides.”

“You believe the prophecy made a choice for you.”

“The prophecy bears no mercy. Or do you wish for my death so eagerly? If so, take your sword out and do it your damn self.”

Noa lets him speak, heave his words out until there’s silence once more.

“She cannot lie,” Noa says softly. “She cannot lie to you, Kaiser. And she is a goddess, a divine being.”

“Demigod,” Kaiser corrects.

“She is divine, and she cannot lie. She is correct, to this end – that as long as she is here, the prophecy cannot come to be. For she has not forsaken us.” Forsaken you, goes unspoken. “She could be good for you, if you allowed her to be.”

Kaiser lets out a canned laugh. “Ha. How can the divine ever understand us?”

Noa stands. “You’ll have plenty of time to find out.”

Kaiser taps his hand against his sword hilt. “You really will not move on this?”

Noa shakes his head. “She is too valuable to lose, and you have a reputation for cruelty. The solution is nothing short of perfect.”

The logical comes above his feelings. Kaiser knows this, even if he hates to come face to face with it.

Noa walks out of the throne room, leaving Kaiser to his bitterness.

“Shitty master,” he mumbles under his breath to no one.

It’s jarring to all the guards, the way you don’t even stand let alone bow when Noa knocks to enter your room. But Noa cares little for things like that, if you’re truly offering what you’ve said.

“Perhaps I was too hasty, in presenting the solution before giving you the facts.” He hesitates before you in the reflection of your vanity. You don’t respond, barely even look at him as you unclasp your jewelry, laying it on the table.

“He will not love you.” Noa tells you after a breath, his surefire eyes finally meeting yours.

You give him a curious gaze. “That is likely for the best. I would outlive him, after all.”

“It is, truly, on a need-to-know basis. To tell you this-”

“The prophecy, I presume you’re referring to,” you interrupt, turning to face him.

The shock rolls quickly off him. Divinity does have its mysteries, he supposes. “You already know.”

“I asked the water, why he is so quick to believe he is forsaken. They told me that he lives under the burden of a prophetic trial. That is all I know.” You stand, moving to unzip your dress only for Noa to hastily pull a partition screen across the room and turn around.

“The water, it speaks to you?”

“It does. Though it’s worth noting that it does not make me all-seeing.” Your voice carries over the partition with the ruffle of clothing. “The queen of the Gods, who sees all fates – she is the only one who is truly all-seeing.”

You come out in a nightgown, folding the partition back. He chucks you a robe that you catch easily.

“You should learn the ways of this world if you want to pass as a simple water sorceress, especially before the banquet.”

You frown. “The prince is my betrothed, is he not? Will he not handle it all?”

The idea you present sparks in Noa’s mind. “Brilliant. I’ll have Kaiser and some of the other members of our team show you the ropes. Good night, sorceress.”

You nod to him, and the door clicks shut.

“She’s a what?”

Oliver slams his metal cup of beer down, rolling the dice once more.

“A demigod, Oliver. Gods, are you that drunk already? Keep up.” Karasu grabs at the dice as Oliver moves his pieces.

“Can you all shut the fuck up? What happened to need-to-know basis?” Chigiri slinks himself over to their table.

“We’re need-to-know.” Karasu jabs a thumb at himself and Oliver.

“They are, actually, need-to-know.” Isagi puts a gentle hand on Chigiri’s shoulder, settling down next to him. “Because she’s never been human in her life.”

“And now we’re supposed to, what, teach her to be human? Is that a thing we can do?” Chigiri twirls a strand of hair between his fingers, tapping the end against Isagi’s cheek.

Oliver snorts. “What, like a class? Some of us have never sat in one of those, you prissy little shits.”

“She can’t dance, for one.”

“Get Kaiser to teach her. Isn’t he her betrothed?”

That has Oliver almost spitting out his drink, choking on it in coughs. “He's her what?”

Chigiri scowls in his direction. “Dude, are you listening at all?”

“If she’s really his betrothed, none of us should be teaching her.” Oliver warns genuinely. “He’ll cut down everyone here, before he lets us touch her.”

“It’s just an excuse,” Isagi waves his hand, pulling out a leather-bound bind of notes. “They’re not actually together.”

“Oh, you actually got that motion to pass. Shit.” Karasu remarks admirably.

“It must be so tiring,” Bachira sighs happily, falling into place next to Isagi, “to have to actually care about what other people think.”

“The optics, Bachira,” Isagi smacks the end of his pen across Bachira’s nose, and he makes an oh! sound in response.

When Kaiser walks in, the room almost goes silent. He’s used to it, of course. Hearing only the way his footfalls come heavy, boots thumping into the stone floor as a drink is placed right in front of him immediately.

The room slowly fills back with noise as he shoulders off his coat, wrapping it around the chair before sitting. But only his table is still strangely silent.

He flits his gaze over the group. Usually, they’re the first to kill the silence in the room, yelling about the game or a duel. He looks at Isagi, specifically, who seems the most nervous. “Something you wanna say to me?”

“Uh…”

Chigiri sighs, killing the tension. “We’re deciding who gets to teach her how to dance.”

Kaiser quirks an eyebrow. “The demigod?”

Chigiri nods, and Kaiser takes a long gulp of his drink, popping it back down and twirling the top of it with his fingers. “I’ll do it.”

“What?” It’s Isagi’s turn to be shocked, sitting up straight.

Kaiser exhales audibly. “None of you could handle her. She could cut you with water the moment you accidentally step on her.”

It’s not an insult, really. They know this too. That this is Kaiser’s brand of protection, to add insult to injury just to keep others out of harm’s way. But they play his game.

“Think we can’t dodge fast enough? A bit demeaning, don’t you think?” Oliver’s grin is wicked, making straight eye contact with Kaiser, who only draws his eyebrows in at his direction.

“You think that god-killing sword is gonna save you?” Karasu asks.

“I don’t have the sword anymore.”

“What?”

It stings more than it should, he thinks. The sword that he thought chose only him, so quickly released from his grasp. But his strength is his own, he holds fast to that.

Kaiser glances at Karasu. “Those are the terms. She marries me, she gets the sword.”

Ness rests his cheek on his hand. “Man, that sounds like she wins twice.”

Chigiri scoffs at that. “She’s a demigod. Being down here is probably like being in the sewers to her.”

Kaiser stands abruptly, pushing his drink aside, his coat billowing as he wraps it over himself once more.

“Where are you going?” Isagi yells, but he doesn’t answer.

“He gone for real?” Oliver elbows Karasu. “I’m too drunk to tell.”

“Yeah, man. He’s gone”

“Great.” Oliver slaps a piece down. “I’ll bet 50 bucks right now they get married for real.”

“What the fuck?” Chigiri tilts his head back against the wall, staring at the ceiling like it might give him some reprieve.

Karasu laughs, “Okay, I’ll play. I’ll bet 20 that they try to kill each other.”

“You’re just a hater.”

“Nah, I agree,” Reo leans back in the booth. “Kaiser’s a lot of things, but a loving husband is a bit much.”

“She’s a goddess. He’s literally already betrothed to her.” Oliver takes another swig. “Y’all ain’t gonna marry a goddess if she was given to you? Damn, put me in his place, I’ll do it right now.”

Kaiser trains, every morning, from sunrise to noon.

You only know because most of the rooms in the palace outlook to a self-contained field. You see him, often, because of this, even if he doesn’t speak to you. As you walk down the corridor, in your classes with Isagi about the current climate of the nations.

“It is useless for me to learn this,” you tell him. “In a few short millennia, the border of the nations will undoubtedly change. And we will have to relearn it all again. What is the use? Why war at all over something so insignificant? Just have a conversation about it.”

Isagi makes a pointed, bored expression at you for this, and then pretends like you didn’t say anything at all.

At the end of class today, you press your elbows to the open windowsill.

Kaiser is there, sparring with Ness. Ness is quick, agile, fleet-footed and runs circles around Kaiser so much so that it almost makes it difficult to keep up.

Kaiser approaches him at bone-breaking momentum, launches strike after hardened strike. He’s shirtless, bandages wrapped around the bottom of his torso, and his body is streaked with sweat. He’s strong, clearly. Broad shoulders clear now from when they were hidden under layers of clothing the first time you met him, the muscles in his arms flexing and relaxing with each step of the friendly duel, hair dipped in saltwater blue.

You know what he looks like, now. You get a sense why Fate brings you here.

He looks like a hero.

The kind that Gods covet, watch from their merry clouds. It’s no wonder that he’s burdened by a prophetic trial, with a face as cutting as his sword, his hair framing his face and flowing.

He takes one look to the side of him and his eyes find yours immediately. It must be some sort of fighter’s sense, you think. For him to have done it so easily.

You give him the space you think he might be asking for. You turn away.

He approaches you one night, just before sunset. Karasu had just finished an etiquette lesson with you, setting away forks and knives. Whatever he sees on Kaiser’s face makes him move quicker. He nods once to Kaiser, and then hastily leaves.

“You’ve been making yourself quite at home here, demigod.” Kaiser traces the lace outline of the tablemat, every ridge under his calloused finger.

“I vowed myself to your kingdom to the end of your life. I’m simply doing what is asked of me.”

“And you’re all ready for the banquet, I’m guessing?” The sentence is almost mocking as he approaches you.

“It’s just a ball, is it not? I’ve been told I’m just to stand there and make pleasantries.”

Kaiser chuckles, more bared teeth than sweet. “It is, arguably, the worst part of being so-called royalty.”

“You’re taking this much better than I thought you would.”

"To say no to a goddess' proposal would be the greatest blasphemy, no?"

"From what I've seen, you have not minded sacrilege much at all."

“Marriage means little to me. Disillusioned, perhaps, with the prophecy.” He waves his hand like he speaks of something meaningless. But you see it clearly. Before he had even allowed himself the thought of love, it was taken from him. “Your power is great, your presence ensures the continuation of myself as an heir and successor. Even I can reason with that.”

He's right in front of you now, so close you can feel his body warmth.

“Does it bother me?” He shrugs. “Sure. As far as I’m aware, you are no wife of mine. But a protector of this nation? For that, you are an indispensable ally.”

He looks out the window, towards a coming sunset. Something indescribable on his face, like grief and guilt all in one. He takes a deep breath in and out, inhaling the peace and exhaling the heaviness of his heart, before facing you again. “A war is coming. No one believes me, but I can feel it, as steady as a river’s current. Until then, I’ll make my peace with you.”

You nod. “So be it, your highness.”

That has him stepping back, more incredulous than you’ve ever seen him, body tensed and frowning. Maybe he should’ve expected it, given the way he’s just dismissed you. “Your highness? You hadn’t questioned my lineage before, but now you dare to do so?”

You stare at him blankly. “You are a prince, are you not? Isagi says that’s what princes are called.”

One side of his mouth upturns in relief, and he bursts out a bright laugh. “Is that what they teach you in those lessons Isagi gives? Oh,” a hand runs through the front of his hair, “I thought my own wife-to-be would dare insult me.”

You scoff. “I have no need for that.”

“The title ‘your highness’ doesn’t apply to this nation because strength is valued most. I am heir to the throne not because of the blood running through my veins, but because Noa deemed I the strongest — not just in body but in mind, not just in physical strength but in adaptability.” He says it proudly, like fact, like a knowing so deep within him that it turns pride into faith. “A title like that is something used by the Itoshi brothers, let’s say,” he comments airily. “Their throne is carried by a bloodline.”

He turns on his heel, only looking back when he realizes you don’t follow.

“You don’t know how to dance yet, do you?”

You lean your hip against the table. “I can dance.”

“Come, then. If you’re to be my wife, it’ll be an embarrassment if you don’t at least act like it.”

You follow him to a ballroom – a stunning, wide area with a looping chandelier, curtains that weigh down in arches over each floor-to-ceiling window.

He swoops you from your distraction with a hand around your waist, and the physical contact shocks you so greatly that orbs of water swirl in your hands.

Kaiser only raises an eyebrow at you. “This is a dance, not a duel. Or do the gods do it differently?”

For a man who was so passive to you, he holds you so close that your chest to chest, you can feel each breath he takes against you. When he steps with you, his movements are slow and deliberate, never inefficient. He moves not with fluidity, but with each sure step. Pulls you forward, then pushes you back. Circles you, spins you around.

It’s exactly like when you see him train. Like steps to a kata.

“I thought you said this was not a duel.”

“These are steps to a classic waltz, demigod.”

“You have no fluidity to you.”

Kaiser scoffs. “Should I apologize? With the prophetic curse hanging above me, I haven’t taken a dancing class.”

“It doesn’t have to be.”

“Hm?”

“The prophecy. It doesn’t have to be a curse.”

He stops, separating himself from you, scowling.

“This session is over.”

“Kaiser-,”

“What?” He snaps. “You, of divine nature. You want to tell me how to view my prophecy?”

“I do not say this out of pity, or out of some sort of higher knowing.” You say it with conviction. “As heir to the throne, a throne that is currently being held by Fate itself, maybe I shouldn’t be saying this at all.”

“And yet?”

“To know your fate is to be able to defy it.” And maybe it’s just an effect of your divinity, but it rings like a bell, like truth itself. “Your prophecy may have made a wound, but you are the one who cuts it open. You are a man who wields a sword that cannot, should not be able to be wielded by anyone but the divine. Does that not say something? About you, about your capabilities?”

“And yet you took it from me.”

The silence that follows is thick with indecision. Kaiser lets the uncomfortableness sit, rejects every heartwarmed statement you make with a roll of his shoulders, like water off a smoothened rock, replaced with only his anger. “I trained for weeks before I could lift that sword out of the riverbank. Yet it is yours, now, simply because you are supposedly its rightful owner.”

Conflict runs through your face so clearly, he wonders that even if you could lie, whether it would mean anything at all. He watches as your hand reaches into a conjured puddle of water that floats in the air, and out comes the divine sword.

You hold it in your hand with an ease that he has spent months capturing. It strikes envy in him like a branded sear.

“My role here is technically to secure the sword. I have no need to wield it.” You hold it at the bottom of its handle, directing the top of it to him. “If you swear you won’t lose her, I can set a compromise of sorts.”

“You think I’d agree to a compromise?”

You open up your palm, and a bracelet appears. “This will help you keep the sword in a pocket dimension we can both access. If you’re willing to place it there to secure it when you’re not using it, I’ll return her to you until the end of your line.”

Huh. A safe-keeping place is a more neutral proposition than he had thought you’d come up with. To have her back kills the fight in him, and he accepts begrudgingly, testing the magic in his hands until it becomes natural.

“For the record, Kaiser, I have not always been worthy of it.”

Something about the way his name slips off your lips has him keening. “Worthy?”

“I stayed true to my course. I was given a title. And then I could wield the sword, presented to me by my queen.”

“Your queen. Heir to the throne.” He laughs bitterly, knowingly. “You’re a princess.”

“Despite your mocking tone, I’ll have you know that title of mine is of the highest regard. I don’t take it nearly as lightly as you do with yours.”

“That’s why you didn’t bow or kneel. You take what’s meant to be yours without a second thought. Not because you’re unknowing, or because of some godly pride, but because you have never been lesser.” He flicks a finger between your eyebrows. “What a spoiled thing you are. Can you even fight?”

Something in Kaiser takes pride in the way you frown more deeply, it’s almost like a pout. It’s almost…

“Well, I definitely wasn’t sitting idly in the war between Gods.”

“I’ve never seen you train.”

“That’s because you’re always on the training grounds.”

“Oh? You won’t show me?”

“I’m giving you space. I’m no wife of yours, no?” There’s a sting to it when you say it, having his words thrown back at him.

“Duel with me. Tomorrow.” He spins you, lets you out of his hold before bringing you back in.

He begins to meet you, day after day. A duel first, and then a dance. The dichotomy would be distasteful to any other, but you of divine blood do not even flinch at his request.

He may be displeased to have you, but his mouth cracked as wide and wicked as a cat’s at the prospect of a fight.

“Go on, then.” He takes a blunt, wooden sword, throwing it in your direction. “Or do you only fight with magic?” He teases.

You swing the sword, rotating your wrist with ease. “Do you forget yourself, prince? I am half divine, you will surely lose. Are you sure you want to go through with this anyways?”

His mouth widens, more teeth than smile. “Bring it.”

You know, the moment you defend against his first strike, that a singular hit from him on the battlefield must be deadly. He is surefooted, his whole weight bears down in every move. He doesn’t let you breathe once, much faster than you would’ve thought with someone of his size and height.

Kaiser was almost right about one thing, that the divine adds to your magic more than your physical strength. With enough training, in just simple hand-to-hand combat… He might have the potential to beat you.

But not today. Today, you have him pinned to the ground, makeshift blade to his throat.

“You’re awfully close,” he gasps out slyly. And it’s in this moment that you notice, too, how right he is about that, how you can feel his heartbeat underneath yours, his chest against yours with each exhale.

“What?” He grins wide, “afraid you’ll miss?”

By all the Gods, you want to knock the living daylights out of him. He notices your anger in that hesitation, your conflict between doing what is right and what you want, and flips you over, swapping your positions until his hips are pressed against yours.

Something about your shell-shocked face makes him stir.

“First rule of fighting, sweetheart,” he runs a hand through his hair before planting it next to your head, leaning into you close. “Never get distracted by your opponent.”

He’s closer than he was before, admiring the way you look under him, your hair splayed along the ground and the sweet fire of irritation in your eyes. Is the heaving of your chest from your anger towards him, or from something else entirely?

“When Gods fight, there is not nearly as much prattling.” You grit at him. He smells like the grass of the field and the winter air and the heavy musk of sweat, and when you shove him off, it feels like your hand meets the hard rock of an unruly ocean.

It is during dances that he speaks to you. Not at first, but slowly, like a river that streams into the ocean. You tell him tales about the Gods, about your friends, about wars and petty arguments. And he starts to answer you, more often than not, with every question you might have.

“I have wondered about something.”

“Hm?”

“The sheathing. It prevents even me from detecting the sword’s divinity.”

“Huh, so Nagi really wasn’t lying.”

“Nagi, who is always with Reo?”

Kaiser nods. “They say Nagi was once sought upon by a god for his talents, a god who was constantly sending him dreams. But he grew tired of it, so he found a material that prevents even the gods from finding him so he can sleep in peace.”

The conversation often leads to the prophecy, a bitterness like licorice on his tongue. Even if he skates around the topic, you don’t let him hide from it, cutting straight to the heart of the truth.

“You can live in the cold bitterness you’ve put yourself in, Kaiser,” you tell him, one of these nights. “Or you can live, and maybe even possibly die, warmed by a life you truly felt was worth living. Your own choices. Not because of a prophecy, or because of Noa, or even in spite of me.”

But despite it, he doesn’t move away. Because it is the only time he has you to himself. He sees you, always, with Isagi and Oliver and Karasu and Chigiri. How you have molded into their lives with simplicity, sit with them at meals and have easy conversation despite knowing nothing, in a way that he has never once allowed himself to enjoy. What does it say about Kaiser? That he can't stand your presence but he can't stand your absence even more? That he would rather have a biting argument with you than leave you to your own devices?

It's during duel and dance that he comes as close as he can to touching you. If he did anymore, it would become something he doesn't have the heart to name without unease settling in his gut.

On the day of the banquet, Chigiri sits you down in your vanity, braiding your hair back in his hands.

“The queen of the Gods, her lover, a friend of mine… He used to do this for me too.”

Chigiri silently appreciates that you don’t ask him why it is him that helps you with this. That divinity doesn’t hold the same notions this world does.

“He would-,” you laugh softly to yourself. You’re stunning like this, Chigiri can’t help but notice. A goddess, most casual as can be. “He would say that I was useless at it, actually. You two might’ve been good friends.”

“Me? Friends with a god?” Chigiri finishes the braid, tilting your head in his hands to admire the way the braid crowns around each side.

“Of the Fae, actually. A beautiful man he is. You would fit right in.”

That stops Chigiri, has him taking a sharp intake of breath, smiling at you through the vanity’s reflection. “Thank you, princess. Though you would do good to be more careful during this banquet to compliment anyone.”

You smile softly back. “Ah, yes, my betrothed who will not love me might get jealous. Gods are not so different than people, in this regard.”

“Is that so…”

It’s when you meet the Itoshi brothers at the banquet that you begin to understand why Isagi gave you all these lessons.

Where Kaiser is muscle and sword first, more fighter than prince, Sae and Rin are the opposite. They have a grace befitting of royalty. Instead of heavy footfalls that you can hear even in the blanket of snow, they are light-footed, conscious of it in the echoed ballroom.

Though you suspect, from the way Sae grips Kaiser’s forearm as they shake hands, from the way Kaiser regards Sae, that he is somehow just as strong of a fighter. That royalty is an illusion Sae and Rin put on, for peace’s sake.

Something indescribable flits over Sae’s face as you curtsy in front of him, but it’s gone in a moment, replaced with his nonchalance.

“The betrothed of the banquet. We are most pleased to make your acquaintance.” Sae bows his head to you, and Rin follows in his stead.

You smile, something beaming and sweet. “The pleasure is all mine.”

“Would you mind, Kaiser?” Sae’s eyes only leave yours for a glance, to check in at Kaiser’s now furrowed look. “I’d like to take your wife-to-be for a dance.”

Kaiser’s back straightens, a hardened gaze with gritted teeth. But he says nothing. You swear Sae almost grins.

“I’ll return her back to you.” He says it like a favor, and Kaiser is only held back by Karasu’s hand on his shoulder.

“It’s just one dance, Kai,” Kaiser looks at Karasu, then to you, and then back to Sae. He barely nods once.

“Are you sure?” You ask him.

He scowls. “What do I have to be worried about?”

Well, it’s not like you want to anger him further. You let Sae take your hand, leading you to the floor.

“I almost didn't think you were who you said you were, when I saw you,” Sae tells you, breaking the quiet of the dance.

You lean back so you can see his whole face, your confusion clear. “Your highness?”

“When I had heard of you, they told me that waves flowed off your dress like water itself holds you sacred. Yet here you are, as regular as can be.”

Sae twirls you away from him, then brings you back into his arms. “They say you shook the earth with a single step. Where is all that power you were said to hold?” He holds you close, watching your every reaction with his crystal gaze. “This place. They’ve placated you, tamed you.”

He brings his mouth to your ear, the body warmth of his entire chest seeping into yours. “If you were mine, I would never force you into a box you didn’t belong. I’m not afraid of you. I’m not afraid of Kaiser, even with his god-killing sword.” He spins you again, capturing your waist. “If you were mine, I wouldn’t be afraid to demonstrate your power to the world.”

“Sae.” He looks at you in a way that feels meaningful. You don’t know the pleasantries of this nation or his in-depth, but you know, somehow, that this feels like this is something you should shield from.

“Oh? No honorifics already? We’re that intimate, are we?”

To fight is one thing, but this is something entirely different. Being able to hurt others with a play instead of a sword, you’re not sure if you can shield others from something like that.

As the song ends, Sae takes your hand, brings it to his mouth to kiss the back of it. “Consider my proposition, princess. Before your marriage solidifies, and becomes something you can’t escape from.”

With his hand on the small of your waist, he brings you back to Kaiser dutifully. Kaiser links his arm with yours immediately, before any of you can spare a goodbye.

“What did he say to you?”

You hum. You get the sense that maybe…

“Nothing of importance,” you tell him instead.

“Hm?” He tilts your chin up to meet you eye to eye. “Is my own betrothed keeping secrets from me?”

“He said I don’t seem all that powerful.”

That makes Kaiser smile, not something sweet but with teeth bared, like a wolf. “He hasn’t seen you in action.” He pulls you in, hand wrapping to the back of your neck, a slow and deep whisper. “Do you want to show them?”

“Weren’t we both told that’s inappropriate? Isagi said the optics could make your allies scared.”

Kaiser rolls his eyes. “Isagi this, optics that. Our country has always been about the brawl and brave. Let the nations fear us, then. I, with my cruelty and a god-killing sword. You, a sorceress second to none. It’s a pretty picture, is it not?”

He straps his sword to his back and brings you to the middle of the room, and as the guests of honor, the crowd gives you both a wide berth. He circles you, just like you practiced. Makes you center stage.

“Go on then, princess.” He lets go of your hand and bows, sweeping his arm out. “Show us who you really are.”

“Kaiser,” you whisper. “We have very clear orders-”

“I make the orders, not follow them. So make your choice, princess. Wasn’t it you who said that it is worth living a life warmed by your own choices? Tell me, then. Do you want to show them? Or do you want to play nice?”

This play, to have ego and pride dive head-first into a situation, is so very human. And yet-

You let water overcast your body from your waist, let it roll off in layers like waves into the floor. Anyone who has had experience with magic can see your ultimate control over it, how the floor isn’t wet at all, how the water was conjured from nothing. Your hair is silken with dampness, framing your face like gloss. Gasps and awes from the audience makes Kaiser grin even wider.

“There we go.” Kaiser reaches behind him to unsheath his blade, and the galaxy within swirls. He spins it in his hand, and it’s almost like he’s never been happier.

In seconds, he strikes at you. Your hands move up instinctively, blocking the blade with a stream of water. The sound it makes, divinity against divinity, is like a low bell. The floor beneath you shakes with the strength of the strike, water dispersing around your feet in cascades to cushion the impact. You hear screams of shock, a glass breaking.

“Kaiser,” you grit, but all he does is widen that wicked, quicksilver grin.

And then he laughs, stepping away and sheathing the blade back. He holds one hand out to you instead.

“Next time, I want a duel in front of everyone. But this time, I guess a dance will suffice.”

You exhale gratefully, taking his hand in yours and retracting your water. “Let us dance, then.”

And with none of a prince’s grace, with movements that feel more fight than dance, he drifts along the floor with you.

Isagi collapses into the booth, a palm pressed to his eyebrows. “Our allies thought they were about to fight each other.”

“Can I cash in on my bet now?” Karasu rolls a skewer stick between his fingers. “Because they might’ve almost killed each other.”

“Nah,” Oliver leans back. “I think that’s just foreplay.”

Isagi opens his eyes to find Chigiri and Bachira standing before the booth. Chigiri’s not meeting his eyes, his mouth perching to one side in a way that squishes one of his cheeks.

“What happened?”

“They’re gone.”

“Ha?”

“We had one drink. One.”

Oliver has the audacity to laugh, hand over his mouth. “Don’t worry, Isagi,” he pats him on the back. “I’m sure they’re just fucking around.”

In another corner of the hall, royals speak in low tones.

“We can just take her if you like her,” Shidou tells Sae with the sweetest smile a man like that can muster. “No need to ask poor little Kai-Kai.”

Sae says nothing, eyeing you quietly as you step out of the hall.

You are sitting at the edge of the ocean, letting the slate-crested waves wash over you, when he finds you.

“You can dry me in a moment’s notice if I am to sit with you, right?” He says it almost reluctantly, even though he’s here anyways. He’s dropped his off coat somewhere along the way, and there’s something so naked about seeing him in just a shirt. He almost seems softer, without the harsh lines of battle-ready clothing or the fur that drapes around him, relaxed in a way he wasn’t in the banquet hall.

You smile. “I can keep you dry whilst you're sitting.”

He relents, then. Allowing the strangeness of sitting on wet sand without getting wet.

“Was the banquet up to your expectations, then, Kaiser?”

Expectations. He’s had none of a party like this. Being allowed to dream is a privilege, and privileges were not granted to him.

“You are officially my wife-to-be,” he says instead. “Shouldn’t you call me something a little more intimate?”

You gaze out into the horizon for a moment, and something in your eyes unfocuses, like you’ve gone somewhere else and then returned. “Very well. I shall call you Mihya.”

It strikes a chord in him, like a teaspoon hitting a glass. “Mihya? Where did that come from?”

“The water.”

“She speaks to you?”

“She says in another life, you are given a nickname like that.”

“Another life…” He lies down in the sand, watches the streaks of sunset in the blueing sky.

“Ask then, Mihya,” you lean over him slightly, until all he can see is the sky and the way your features soften. “The question we both know is on your mind.”

He almost wants to reach out, hold your cheek in his hand. It’s a foreign feeling to him, so foreign it almost feels like unease – to want to extend a gentleness like that to another person. “Won’t you just tell me?”

You breathe in the sea-salt air, and breathe out a heart-warmed truth. “The prophecy does not hold you captive in another life.”

Kaiser, for once, lets himself dream. Of a different life, where he is unburdened by a prophecy, and burns brightly.

“It would seem strange if you weren’t together, with all the other guests in the palace.” That’s what Oliver tells you as he gestures for you to take his arm, leading you to Kaiser’s room.

It’s both plainer and more furnished than you thought, like someone who isn’t him had chosen the furniture and the color of the walls. But the items in the bookshelves seem well-loved, items taken out and put back haphazardly, scrolls and books placed back half-way. The bathroom door opens with a flood of light.

“You’re here.” It’s rare to shock Kaiser in a way that doesn’t make him immediately reach for his sword.

You turn to look at him, taking in his half-dressed state. “Were you expecting some other woman?”

“Oh, so you’re the jealous type?”

He almost wants to laugh at the clear discomfort on your face. Gods don’t tease, he’s guessing?

The bed gives way to you as you take your place. “I hear it’s common for princes to take many lovers.”

The moonlight spills over the bedsheets as the room darkens, and you summon the sword to float right above you, looking into it. He joins you, wanting to see exactly what you’re seeing.

“It’s not a night sky.” Your voice is so soft in the blanket of night between you both.

“Hm?”

“Inside the sword. Your people say it looks like the night sky. It’s not. It’s a galaxy.”

He reaches his hand out, tracing over the glass along the middle of the weapon, a silent remark for you to continue.

“At the beginning of all worlds, the first-ever contract was made between the first-ever forces, and with it, this sword was said to be conjured out of the galaxy. And so, a part of the galaxy at the beginning of all worlds was contained in this sword.”

The stars in the sword move within like they’re responding to your words, borne witness to all the events. But instead of watching them, you turn to him.

“You have held and wielded a primordial piece of this world. It has allowed you to hold it, granted you its blessing.”

Blessed. That is not a phrase Kaiser would have ever used to describe himself. But coming from you, he can almost believe it. Almost hope to have a little more than he’s ever had.

The sword disappears with a movement of his hand, and he rolls to lean over you. Silence drops like a curtain. The only sound he knows is your breath and his.

During a fight, his feelings can almost be mistaken for adrenaline. But even under the shadow of the moon, with the cushioned silence between you both, the way you cut straight to the truth rings like a silver bell.

He can’t hide from you. Or maybe. Maybe he’s tired of hiding at all.

He is a man who has only known war and battle, was born and bred into it. War-forged, is what they call men like him. His hands know weapons, know how to kill.

He does not know if they know how to love. And yet-

He cups your face, and drinks you in.

He kisses you with caution, like you might melt from his grasp if he held too tightly. Presses his lips against yours slowly. He runs his hand gently over your hairline as he parts from you.

Is this okay? He wants to ask. But instead, he says: “Tell me what you want.”

You wrap your arms around his neck, your lips brushing against yours when you answer: “You.”

And then he kisses you like a man starved, never known by this feeling that gets caught up in his throat with every noise of yours he swallows.

“Is this… is this what you want?” You try to ask as you part from him for air, but he presses his mouth to the space behind your ear instead, laying kisses down your neck. “Is this a decision that you are making for yourself, by your own hands? That is entirely for you?”

That makes him stop. But when he looks at you with a surefire gaze…

He knows it, undoubtedly. That this, for once, is his.

“There are no lovers,” he tells you between kisses, to your shoulder, down your collarbone, to your breastbone.

“What?”

“I take no lovers.” He unclasps your bra, lets the material fall from his hands to cup your supple flesh. “I’ve never been princely, after all.”

“You- Kai-”

He runs his thumbs across both your nipples, admires how they perk up at his administrations, flitting his gaze between them and your face as he brings his mouth down over one of them.

He presses kisses down your body, cups your heat in his hand like he’s begging you to respond, like he’s saying let me have this. The inside of your thighs is soft as cream under his calloused hands. His thumb moves along the outside of your underwear, from your slit up to your clit with his fingers pressing tentatively against the fabric until you’re grabbing at his wrist.

“You’re so tense,” he teases, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “Want me to take care of that for you?” He runs the knuckles of his hand over your clothed slit, bumping into your clit with his thumb until your breathing gets heavy, your hands gripping his shoulders.

“Kaiser,” you breathe, and he clicks his tongue.

“That’s not what you call me, baby. Not anymore.”

“Mihya.”

“Mm,” he slides his fingers into your panties from the side, a huff of breath leaves him at the wetness he finds. “Good girls get rewarded, you know?”

Heat coils hot deep in your stomach. He can’t take the restriction, pulling your panties down and revealing your core to the cold air. He lets his slickness pool on his fingers, collects it before bringing it to your clit. It’s like a drug, watching the way your face gives way to pleasure, how your body arches into him.

“Mihya,” you gasp again, like a chant, a prayer. Is this what the gods feel like, to be asked of?

“Let me watch,” he says it like a demand but it aches with desperation, a thing he won’t admit outside these four walls. He presses with more confidence now, slides one finger into you, then two. There’s little resistance with the way he’s riled you up, long fingers pressing into you until he reaches something that has you making a broken moan so pretty he can’t help but tilt into it again.

“I want to see it,” he tells you. This is something he makes happen to you, with his own hands, his own words, his own body that shares its heat with yours. That notion alone runs arousal straight through him. Your panting breath, the way your body shakes with each swipe against your clit.

“I want to see you fall apart in my arms.” He whispers, and you respond in kind. You always do to him, don’t you? He’s been seen too surely by you, now it’s his turn. Your body tenses entirely, tightly, gripping him as he grants you reprieve. A soft whine leaves your mouth along with something like his name, and the rough pad of his thumb circles over your clit until you crash, coming around his fingers.

He swipes a thumb over your cheek, allows himself the gentleness that he’s held back for so long with you.

“One more, okay?”

Your eyes widen. “Mihya,” this time it’s like a warning, but the way you say his name is so breathy it has him pressing a hand over his pants.

“Yeah, say my name just like that.” He shuffles down until his mouth is pressing to your stomach, just above your mound. Then again to the inside of your knee, trailing up until the inside of your thigh, his breath ghosting over the sensitive skin there.

“You’re-, wait, we just- I just”

“Mm, and you’re gonna give me one more.” He kisses your clit first, like a promise, and then he laps at your core generously, from the bottom of your slit all the way to your clit, his flat tongue against the whole of you. Every drop of slick from your previous orgasm is taken in by him with each moan he makes against your core. If he had known this feeling was going to enter his life, that it would’ve felt like this, maybe he would’ve readied himself better for it. Instead, he finds himself starving at the table where it’s served. The taste of you on his tongue wraps him in a heady pleasure, but it’s every sound he takes out of you that has him pressing a little more insistently, tongue laving over you.

“Pl-please,” your words break between gasps, and it has him lapping into your clit with more pressure.

“I can never say no to you, can I?” he mumbles between your legs. And then he’s flipping you over, hoisting you onto your knees and skimming his hands over your rear and thighs before diving in again. Your face is pressed into the pillow, hands grabbing the sheets. Kaiser almost seems dazed as he moans into your cunt, swollen and wet like a siren’s call, hands wrapped so tightly around your plush thighs that it feels like it might bruise.

“Let me taste,” he mutters, mouth still lodged into your cunt, like that isn’t what he’s already doing. “Come on baby, give it to me. Let me taste it on my tongue.”

Your hole clenches and flutters around nothing as another orgasm rocks through you, your breath coming short as you break apart on his tongue with a whine.

He flips you over again, and the look on his face takes your breath away. Your slick shimmers on his mouth as he trails his tongue over his lips, like he’s addicted, like he can’t get enough. He tilts his head with a grin so cocky that if you weren’t so blissed out you might just punch him.

“There something you want, pretty?” He leans over you, hand to the bedpost, and how broad and tall he is becomes that much more obvious. You let yourself look, at the way his tattoo drapes over his arm, run your hands over the muscle of his torso down to his v-line. You hear a sharp intake of breath as your hand moves lower, running under his loose sleep pants to the base of his cock.

He grabs your hand in his, bringing it over your head and circling both your wrists. “Ask.”

“You-,” your eyes narrow and you huff at him, but it only makes him smile. “Won’t you just-”

“Nuh-uh.”

“I could cut you down here.”

He drops his pants, pumping his cock once and then sliding it along your slit. “You could. And then who’ll give you what you want?”

You want to roll your eyes, but then he has one hand tapping against your clit, the other gripping either side of your cheeks.

“You begged so pretty for me earlier when I had my mouth on you,” he rasps. “What happened to that?”

The harsh look you give him under those fluttering lashes of yours makes something stir in his gut, arousal shot through his veins, pupils wide. He plays with you, warm hands against your skin and between your legs, the soft skin of his cock sliding between your thighs until you’re gasping in his hold again, grinning like a battle won.

“Please, Mihya,” you sigh.

“Mhmm. Please what?”

“Please- please fuck me.”

He gets off on it, watching you yield to him, spreading your legs, dripping your hot slick onto his cock. He presses the head against you, petaled folds opening up to receive him as he slides into you slowly. Just the first few inches is so thick inside of you that your hands wrap around the muscles of his arms, nails digging in.

“Shh, baby, you can take it,” he hushes your little whines, tracing your hairline with such gentleness it contradicts the way he pulls out of you just slightly only to push in again.

“You’re- oh,” your body gives into him, even more so when he brings his hand down to tap on your clit, his mouth over your neck, to the side of your mouth, until he’s kissing you and taking in every noise you make. It’s almost a distraction, helps your body to relax so he can press into you deeper. You think you feel every inch as it enters you, all the way until the hilt, until the head is pressing deep inside of you and his hips meet yours.

He lets out a rough, deep moan against the expanse of your neck, breath coming short as your walls tighten around him.

“Fuck, baby. You gotta let me move.” Your arms wrap around him tighter, a whimper falling from your lips as he tilts his hips up to plunge into you again. It’s hard and slow and deep and if it wasn’t for his grip on you, you might’ve hit the headboard. But he’s careful about it – more than you might’ve thought he’d be. Pressing your body into the bed as his hips meet yours again and again.

“It feels so good,” you tell him, and it has him pressing a kiss to your cheek in return. Makes every moan you make that much sweeter, to know it’s out of your pleasure, to know it’s because of him.

“Good girl. Tell me again.”

“Feels- you’re so big, so- please, I need-” Your walls can barely clench down onto him with how he feels inside of you. Chest to chest with him, the contact of skin on skin-

“You drive me insane,” he grumbles it into your skin; a confession, exacerbated with each thrust of his hips as he picks up the speed, until he’s slamming into you with a kind of strength that has you seeing constellations behind your eyes. He wants you- needs you to feel the way he feels. Needs to have you lying in his bed, thinking only of him and how he makes you feel. Heat pools in your core until you’re arching your back, and he knows it now – knows it like the back of his hand.

“Give it to me.” It’s a command, a need, if you listen closely enough. “Come around my cock. Show me.”

“Mihya, it’s so much, it’s so so much.” It’s treacherous, the way it works through your body, being on the brink.

His thumb is slick over your clit, pressing just a little more, until your thighs are tightening under his unrelenting body. “Come for me.”

You chant his name until the words start to become nothing in your mouth, until you’re breathless, until your whole body tenses under him and his hold against you gets that much rougher and your walls clamp down and then your body shakes as you come. You almost scream, only silenced by his lips on yours. He comes quickly after that, his eyes never leaving yours, taking in how you look underneath him as his cock gets more sensitive and paints the inside of your walls. He doesn’t stop, doesn’t slow until he feels your body start to relax under his.

You can barely process coming down as he’s kissing you again, deeply and with force, like he’s etching the memory of you into his mind and onto your lips.

For once, he lets himself recognize – how tiring the emptiness has been, to be devoid of this feeling and instead be filled with the fear that it’ll be turned against him. For once, he lets himself feel – to have something that is wholly his. to know and be known. To give and know you will receive. Not an offering at an altar but a hand in his, not a prayer but a soft word spoken in return. Kaiser does not want something as untouching as approval or attention from the divine. But he does want your waist in his arms, your forehead against his.

“Just like this,” he whispers it, a kiss placed to your forehead. You don’t know what he means, too tired to ask.

This is exactly what he’s always wanted. Just like this.

Not unlike a parent, Noa notices the closeness of your relationship. In touch, in stolen glances, in longing. A private conversation with him over afternoon tea is not unique, but the heaviness that weighs on him is.

“As the goddess who cannot lie, I have to ask you.” The hardened look on his face makes you straighten your back, putting down your teacup. “You know, that I have to ask.”

Silence sits between you both like a shoe about to drop.

Noa yields. “Has he truly been forsaken by all the gods?”

You are strangely silent as you look at him, then away, then back.

“Answer me, demigod.”

“I don’t know.”

“What?”

“I. Don’t. Know. I have told you before, that I am not a seer, or an oracle. Water holds memory. I can see the past, I can even see other lives parallel to ours, but I cannot see the future. This is the limit of my power.”

“You are of divine nature.”

“I had said what I said at our first meeting, and that has not changed. As long as I am here, the Gods have not forsaken him. For I have not forsaken him. Is that not enough? How many Gods would travel to your realm, vow themselves to a human kingdom? Even if it is I alone that stands before you, is that not enough?”

Noa sighs, more exasperated than you’ve ever seen a serious man like him. “He deserves more, that boy. For what he has been put through.”

“All greatness comes with a price. All heroes face tragedy. He, no matter how much you may care for him, is not the exception to that.” You tilt your head, like a cat with curiosity. But unlike that sweetness, your words are cutting. “You made him a ruler. You made him a hero. So, stand by that. Or does it make you uncomfortable? To consider the role you, too, have played in his life?”

Noa, of course, has thought about this too. Had he not chosen Kaiser to rule, would he have had the prophecy weighing on him like a second shadow?

“If the prophecy holds true, you will inevitably leave him.” Noa swallows, hand flat against the table. “He will inevitably be forsaken, even by you.”

“Then why,” you ask, genuinely, “did you ask me to stay?”

In the weeks that follow, you learn exactly why. Like Kaiser had predicted, talk of battle comes.

“We suspect a neighboring nation wishes to wage war with us.” Noa looks out to the slate-blue ocean from the window of the war room.

“A man who wants control of this whole world,” Karasu huffs. “There’s never a lack of them, is there?”

“He thinks himself a god. Or that’s what Sae has told us.”

“You’re sure Sae’s information checks out?”

“Shidou and Otoya like to visit neighboring nations for uh… fun, let’s say,” Chigiri rolls his eyes, then plants his face in his hands. “He said something along the lines of “you don’t wanna know how they found out” and “Shidou sleeps with both men and women, so it’s been cross-checked too.””

“And then we asked him about war,” Isagi throws his notes down on the table. “He said, and I quote, ‘I already have more land than I know what to do with. What could another few acres give me? What a hassle.’”

“The enemy are bold to come for us first.” Kaiser frowns considerably. They are possibly the one nation blasphemous enough that would not blink at the thought of fighting a god. “There’s something we’re not seeing.”

Isagi nods in agreement. “We still don’t know the reason they’re coming here first. It could be the sword, or the goddess.” Isagi frowns. “I told you not to make a scene at the banquet.”

Kaiser gives him a curious look with a smile he fails to hide. “The point of a banquet is to wow the people. The people were wowed, were they not?”

“It could be, it could not be,” Noa kills the conflict there. “That information would have been made public regardless of the spectacle. It could even simply be the throne itself they seek. An army like ours could parade into the neighboring nations and lay waste, our people are used to much harsher weathers.”

“Or maybe he means to make a statement,” Karasu shrugs. “If he wants to be a god, maybe he means to punish the disrespect we’ve shown.”

“What do we actually know?” Chigiri taps the map of this nation splayed across the table.

“We know he wants to take control of this world, and we know his plan includes something from us.”

“He knows once he controls the world, he has to take care of it, right?” Oliver rests his jaw in his hand. “As in, it’s not just about buying the house, it’s about cleaning it too. The plan – it has to be bigger than this, no?”

“Won’t happen once we kill him here. So as far as we know, there are three things we have that he could want: the sword, the goddess, the army.” Chigiri holds up his fingers as he counts.

“So we’ll meet him with all three at the front lines. Fear does not wield us, after all. Only strength.” Kaiser says it like a mantra. You suspect it might be exactly that.

“What a pleasant surprise to see you again so soon, princess.”

As an ally, Sae arrived on the day of battle without question. He is much different from the first time you saw him, chainmail armor wraps tight and sleek around his body, clearly of a weight underneath his clothing. He stands straighter, shoulders broader, badges clipped to his outer jacket. It’s clear to anyone who looks at him, that it’s almost like he was born into them – meant for them.

“You’re both on the front lines then?”

“Idle hands,” Kaiser starts.

“Devil’s workshop.” You finish. You hear a horse galloping, then a voice.

“There’s something wrong.” The people give a wide berth as Oliver arrives, with a sleek black mare that’s obedient as can be. “The majority of the enemies’ troops are not in front of us.”

All of you turn to look, but it’s on the front lines that makes it most difficult to tell where the crowd begins and ends.

“I did a rough head count from the tower. This isn’t the count we had observed just the other day. They’ll die easily, like this, against us. And I don’t mean that from an egotistical standpoint. I think these men are here to die, meant to die. It serves to mean –”

“This is a distraction.”

Karasu appears at your side, with an utmost silence only he is capable of. “They’re headed for the main castle, from around the edge of the border.”

You and Kaiser look to each other with a whole silent conversation, and Sae sighs.

“Go on, then.”

You turn to Sae immediately, with a seriousness he doesn’t expect. “You’ll be unprotected.”

“We chopped liver to you, girl?” Shidou sneers.

Oliver drops down from his horse. “I’ll take over here.”

“Your care for me is truly touching, princess,” Sae’s voice lilts touchingly, almost revealing how much he likes it. “But you swore a vow to this kingdom, so go fulfill it.”

Even in the middle of a war, it gets Kaiser all worked up, his chin jutting as you both run back to the palace. But Sae understands duty, stands by it. It’s what makes him worthy of his own title in his own kingdom.

Oliver waits until you’re both out of sight before turning to Sae. “Did you really plan to steal her?”

“Well,” Sae shrugs. “Did you plan on letting her go so easily?”

Your water runs in cascading waves through the whole of the palace, like the ocean itself comes rushing through the walls. It knocks all the soldiers down as you and Kaiser run through, and he picks up any stragglers with ease.

“The throne room?” Kaiser slams the hilt of his sword into the guy behind him, and he collapses instantly.

“It is the safest room.”

“That makes no sense. If you knew anything about our people, you’d know we never hide ourselves there in a battle.”

“Go anyways,” you tell him, as another man gets thrown off his feet. “Go, Kaiser!”

He takes one final look at you, at the strength that you hold in your hands, and then he runs.

The man he finds sitting on the throne has black hair cut blunt to his chin, a white mask over one side of his face. Kaiser unsheathes his sword, pointed straight and true.

“That throne doesn’t belong to you.”

“It will. Along with that sword you’re holding.”

Kaiser chuckles, the kind that has madness interlaced in it. “If you wanted the sword so bad, you could’ve asked for a one-on-one combat duel. I haven’t had a satisfying fight in a long time, I’d be happy to lay the sword as a winning prize.”

What must be the man’s most elite fighters drop down from the ceiling, crowding in on all sides.

“Ah, I see,” Kaiser stands straighter, reaching behind him to unsheath his second sword. “It is your capabilities that do not match mine.”

When they come for him, it’s clear to even the heavens that he is exactly as he is fated – a force to be reckoned with. He moves like a spider-spun silken web, capturing each of them blow by blow. His swords cut like butter through them with impressive speed and strength. His breath comes fast and hard when he finishes, sweat dripping down his back.

“I see now, prince,” the man approaches him, and it’s closer up that he realizes he’s simply in a suit, no armor. “Why they praise you, despite your blasphemy. You, a prince famous for cursing divinity at a whim’s notice, are a powerful ally. Kneel before me, then, and I’ll cease this all – let you join our cause in a war against the gods, in stealing their divinity from them. I’ll even forgive this transgression of bedding one.”

“Me? Kneel?” The canned laugh that Kaiser lets out echoes. “I kneel to no god, let alone a man who wants to become one.”

“So be it, then.”

Kaiser hears something above him. By the gods, what’s with this guy and ceilings? Is that why he wants to fight here? A dust of something shimmers down, he pulls his cloak over himself-

From the doorway, you throw your water across the room, shielding Kaiser from whatever it may have been. And in the same moment, a poof of shimmer bursts over your own head and tumbles down around you.

“That’s the problem with you gods, isn’t it? You always think you’re infallible.”

You cough, falling to one of your knees. Dread fills inside of you, like a faucet you can’t turn off. You can’t move. How is that possible?

The man taps two fingers to the top of your head, and your world goes dark.

When you blink your eyes open, the first thing you’re aware of is the way your vision swims. Your mind feels clouded, stuffed with cotton. You press your palm to your head, and even that feels muted.

“I’ve made her mine now. She’ll do exactly what I say. Does that make you upset?” Is what you think you hear, through the ringing of your ears. “Let’s see you put that god-killing sword to good use then, shall we?”

“It’s. Magic.” You spit out the words as your hands press into the ground. Your legs cramp from the way you’re forcing them to stay down. “Mihya. Run, please.”

“Awh, worried about me?” Kaiser teases as he logs the odds. There is no water that swirls around you, so it begs to reason – you can’t call it. The only weapon you have is a dagger.

Kaiser tilts his head until his neck cracks. “Have some faith in me, princess. I’m not afraid, even against you.”

He breathes, in and out, until the calmness of battle seeps into him, raises his sword pointed right at you. “I’ll win, even against you.”

And then he reveals that cocky, surefire smirk. “You should worry more about not dying yourself.”

When you launch at him, it is without mercy, makes him realize how your kindness seeps into the way you fight. His weapon is bigger, larger, and he uses it to keep you at arm’s length, to wrap around towards the enemy. But he sees his problem almost immediately. Like a puppet on strings, you’re protecting the enemy.

He knows it, the moment the prophecy solidifies into place in his mind. That feeling of being lost on a path, gone with the reigning down a light. The final puzzle piece in the picture.

You will die by the hands of the one you love most. So, it truly was this feeling, after all. Love. An aching thing, something so undoing. An open wound that can only be tendered by you.

For once, the prophecy is not a curse but a guiding starlight. He corners you with strike after strike, until you’re as close as can be to the enemy. And then he approaches you with no defense, lets you strike at him. In the same breath, his sword lands behind you and takes off the enemy’s head.

None of the fight felt as clear as this moment, when your blade presses into his heart.

He collapses, right in front of the throne with you on top of him. The throne that should be undoubtedly his, belonging to him as heir. Tears fall from your face before your mind can clear. Like you know, soul to soul, as his lifeform slips through your fingers. He brings his hand to cup your cheek, as he had wanted to do when you laid like this above him in the sand.

“I did not expect a death so gentle for myself.”

His smile is so bittersweet that it aches all the way to the bottom of your heart. His hand slips down from your face as you finally come to.

“You will not die on me.” You gasp out, a statement said with so much conviction that the silver bell of truth rings in return. You call to your water immediately, a stream so fast it cuts into your skin but you don’t care.

A magic that can only be done once. You take the divine sword from the ground, aim the blade carefully at yourself – your own soul. Only this sword can make a cut like this, with the hand of the divine. You slice your wrist, and instead of blood, pure golden lifeforce pours out.

You separate your divinity from yourself, and you feed it to him. It will not turn him divine. You are only half-divine yourself, after all. What you can give is not nearly enough to turn a man into a God. But it will hold his soul in this world, let you do an unspeakable magic: an exchange of divine power for life, a process long enough for the water to heal his heart back together again. The hand you lay against his mouth shakes more and more with each second that your golden blood pours into him, but your other hand lays steady as ever over his heart, until you feel it beat once, twice. Hear him spurt out a breath.

You collapse on top of him before you can see him open his eyes.

“I see the prophecy has been completed.”

When Kaiser wakes, there’s a split second where he thinks he might’ve just ended up wherever souls go at the end of their line. There’s what must be a full-fledged goddess standing right over him. It’s only your warm body splayed across his chest that tells him otherwise. His hands are lightning quick, sitting up and moving to your neck to check your pulse, only exhaling and relaxing once he feels it.

Golden threads extend down the sleeves of the goddess’ arms. He’s seen the paintings. Fate itself stands before him.

“How could you do this?” He makes his disdain clear, lacking any respect one might give to the queen of the gods herself.

“I am sorry.” She answers immediately, and that makes Kaiser’s eyes widen just slightly. “Your grievances, you may relay them to me, if you wish. There is a bigger picture at play here, bigger than you or the water sorceress or even myself. The threads of fate are not woven selfishly.”

“You gods up in your clouds play with the lives of mortals. That has always been written in history. But to her? To one of your own?”

“She is more one of mine than most. The heir to the throne of the Gods, I would’ve entrusted her with my life. It’s why she complies with Fate in every life, without complaint.”

“So she lends you her loyalty, and you take advantage of her. And you dare put yourselves above us?”

“Heavy is the head that wears the crown. Heavy too, are my hands, that weave the golden threads. You and her are one of many that have suffered by my hand. For that, there is no apology I can give. What I can give, well… Would you like to hear your full prophecy, prince?”

Lone Emperor who covets the throne, You will die by the hands of the one you love most. Forsaken by all the Gods but one, Re-emerge, awaken, as the ruler you are meant to become.

In any other circumstance, he would be eager as ever to finally hear the full prophecy. But his eyes are only on you, your slumbering state as he holds you in his arms.

“What will become of her?” He asks quietly.

“She will be a water sorceress, as she had initially been.”

“She will die, then? Like a human does?”

“All things die, hero.” Hero. That’s what he is now, having been trial-passed. The title burns like bourbon down his throat. “Even the divine dies. But yes, she will die as a human, and be reborn again as the cycle permits.”

“A life of such simplicity is not befitting of a woman like her.”

“Who says it would be simple? Besides, she has gone through the trial of the divine once before. Don’t you have faith she could do it again?”

The trial of the divine. He had not known such a thing prior to you. But if anyone could pass it, it would be you.

“I will make her my wife. I care little for the words or respect of the gods, even a queen like yourself. But it is my duty to inform you. If she will have me, I will wed her as has been planned.”

“The prophecy is complete. What happens now is too inconsequential for me to put effort into. However…” she watches you, teartracks streaked down your cheeks. “I’m quite fond of her. I hope for her an easy life.”

In a blink, her form disappears.

“Kaiser!” Oliver’s voice echoes through the halls, taking big leaps with Noa to his side, skidding to a halt when he finally finds you both.

“The goddess-”

“She lives,” Kaiser cups your head into his chest. “Though she is goddess no more. A trade. Not a fair one by any means.” His thumb traces across your cheek, a state of his so vulnerable it renders Oliver speechless.

Noa approaches the threshold where Oliver does not dare. He rests his hand on the crown of Kaiser’s head. “Another chance at life is the greatest gift, and she has granted you as such. That is a debt you’ll never be able to repay her for..”

“I’ll spend the rest of my life trying, then.”

It’s only in the aftermath, that you find out how deep in you truly were.

Kaiser takes a big inhale of the winter air. It’s fresh and cold. And with him, the nation breathed a breath anew, and the trial laid in ashes under his feet.

You’re facing the horizon of the sea when he finds you.

In the catch of the light, sometimes he swears he sees the divinity that had shimmered off of you before. It’s almost hard to believe, with the ring of water that floats around you, that it had ever left you at all.

“What are you doing?” His voice is soft, as it always is with you now.

“Relearning the water.”

“What does it say?”

“That I am still its mistress. Still a sorceress,” the water around you drops into the wet sand. “That its loyalty with me is not dependent on divinity.”

He places a hand to the back of your neck, easing out the tensions there. “But?”

You smile weakly. “I have to strain to hear her now.”

“Guess we can’t do that spectacle again for our wedding.” He cracks a smile, something to ease the ache. “Water holds memory, right?”

“That, it does.”

He grabs your hand, pulling you up and towards the waves. You yell for him, but the ocean crashes loudly around you both, and he drags you into the water anyways. Once you’re deep in enough that the waves drape over your knees, he pulls you in close.

“Let her bear witness, then.” He whispers it against your lips, brushing your hair away from your face. He kisses you, deep and with so much heart you might burst from it.

A prophecy unfolded, a fate changed, a life saved.

There’s a part of you that can feel an oncoming future. A sheathing that can block even the eyes of Gods. God-killing weapons that have descended from the heavens themselves. A potion that can cause madness in the minds of the divine. A war between mortals and Gods is coming, you’re sure of it.

But not in this life. In this life, you are a water sorceress, and he is a trial-passed hero. And like in every life, you find your way back to each other, every time.

author's note: ohmygod THANK YOU FOR READING PLEASE tell me what you think!!! this is my longest fic ever so i really hope you enjoyed

319 notes · View notes

4milly · 3 days ago

Text

childish - jey u.

parings: manipulative!jey uso x black!reader

warnings: angst, use of n word, cursing, smut, unprotected sex, rough sex, jey being an asshole is my fav sorry, cream pie, shower sex, manipulative jey, impregnation, dacryphilia, dumbification (if you squint),

word count: 3.9k (I BEEN GONE I WANTED TO GIVE YALL SOME)

you make me so mad, but i just come right back. it’s like i can’t get over you…

the music blasting through the speakers was enough to tune out the sound of your phone ringing...for nearly the 100th time. sexy redd and a bottle of casamigos mixed together was good enough to take your mind off things, not erase them.

jey called. than he called again. and again. and againnnn. he was doing all he could to reach you. he could play stupid all he fucking wanted too, he knew what the fuck he did. minus the arguing all day—for the last year—, jacob going live on instagram with them in the club last night was the straw that broke the camels back.

"imma head to bed though, ma. my damn head is pounding against my skull and shit" he muttered through the phone on facetime last night.

the call ended with the two of you kissing the screen on some clingy teenager bullshit. you were all googly eyed at him, just completely enamored. your man, your man, your man...all to get a live sent to you 45 minutes later of him in the club with some groupie ass bitch grinding on his lap and his hands on her hips.

all day you were going back and forth, him wanting to know what the problem is and you dodging it, making shady subliminal posts on the gram instead.

"bitch, get out your fucking head! fuck that nigga! he gone feel you this time!" you snapped out of your thoughts hearing lana, your best friend. she was kind enough to round up all the girls, give you her most see through and shortest outfit, do your hair, and makeup. honestly? you felt horrible. you wanted to do nothing more but lay in bed and cry you eyes out. but that nagging anger bubbling inside you was stronger.

she was right. he was gone feel it this time. no matter how much you missed him, it was fuck him right now.

a smile broke out on your glossed lips as, get it sexy began to play, "aw shit nah. get it bitch! cmon y'all!" you all headed to the dance floor ready to leave your problems there.

you lowered to your knees, bouncing your ass to the music. the liquor was starting to flow through your veins rapidly. you even raised your dress up a little just below your ass. one wrong move and you'd be flashing everyone in this damn place.

your back collided with a strong chest, "you showing out over here, baby." the man groaned in your ear, snaking his hands over your waist to pull your ass towards his growing crotch.

the man started kissing and sucking on your neck whilst his hands snaked downwards to your exposed thighs. you leaned your head back against his shoulder, grinding your ass in a circle on his crotch.

for a moment, your mind went to jey. you felt guilty. what he did was considered inappropriate, and it embarrassed the fuck out you. it was like every month for the last year, it was another random ass bitch he wanted to show his 32's too.

you knew jey would never cheat on you, but that didn't stop the insistent feeling that he didn't at least come close to. coming home smelling like perfume, taking pictures with random ho's from the club, the mall, or at wrestling events. liking their pictures on the gram. it's like you aren't enough for him anymore.

yet, just letting this man touch all on you made you sick. you had a man...even if it felt like you were in the relationship all alone.

"oh shit..." lana mumbled, her eyes nearly falling on the floor

the mans hands raised to squeeze one of your breast, just as he was yanked off you, "aye yo! what the fuck is this shit? this the shit yo ass fuckin doin? you got me so fucked up!"

speak of the devil they shall appear, i guess. anger radiated off jey's body. his nose flared, snarl on his face, and his dickriding ass cousins in tow right behind him. just perfect.

"boy fuck you! you can't take shit you dish out," you yelled back, frustration from the last 24 hours finally spilling out. "get the fuck out my face."

"how do you barge in here like that shit, after having some random—"

"mind yo hoe ass business, lana. you don't know shit about what the fuck you talkin' bout!"

you pushed jey backwards by his chest, "don't talk to her like that! chill—"

"fuck is yo ass even doin' in here! i'm callin' all day to see where my girl at and you letting some random ass motherfucka touch all on you?" jey's eyes narrowed with hatred as his voice continued to raise

"excuse me," a man clearing his throat caught everyone's attention, "i'm going to have to ask all of you to leave the property. this drama has no place here."

jey slowly nodded his head before kissing his teeth. his eyes held so much hate, you barely could recognize him. for a split second, you regretted this whole night. had you just stayed your ass home all this could've been avoided. but he had no right to be a hypocrite. especially, rolling in here with all that bass in his voice like he was a saint.

he mugged you up and down, "you know what? i'm out. have fun with yo hoe ass friends, mama. where that motherfuka at? i got a few condoms for ole boy"

jey's face snapped to the side. his cheek began to sting from the force of your hand, "you got some fucking nerve! you had a fucking headache last night, right? lemme guess, random ass bitches make you feel better? I was on that damn live. but im the hoe? hopefully yo chest hurt just as fuckin bad as my feelings do!"

the next morning felt like war. the house once filled with love between two lovers felt like a cage holding a lion and a tiger...one just waiting for the other to pounce. jey's face adorned with bags, his bottom lip tucked between his teeth as he stared at you in the kitchen. when the club owner forced everyone to get the fuck out of his establishment before he called the police, jey snatched you by your arm, pushing you into the car.

the whole ride home the both of you shouted at each other. name calling, you hitting the dashboard, him hitting the stirring wheel. the car felt like it was suffocating under the weight of all the things you both wanted to say but couldn’t find the right words for. instead? you choose to just say 'fuck you' over and over. his knuckles turned white as he gripped the wheel tighter, while your voice cracked from the strain of yelling. the tension was so thick, even the air outside the car seemed to press in through the windows. by the time you pulled into the driveway, the silence that followed was deafening, a sharp contrast to the chaos that had just unfolded. neither of you moved, both staring straight ahead, unwilling to be the first to speak or step out.

jey choose to sleep on the couch, giving you the option to sleep in the bedroom. this morning was no different than last night. neither one of you wanted to speak first. you were tired of arguing with him—tired of him especially. you were sick of the random ass insta tags from women, the dm's, getting sent live videos...it was too much. what was supposed to be growing together felt like growing apart.

you looked up over the counter to see jey still mean muggin' you, "stop fuckin' looking at me!" you finally snapped. call you childish, for starting a fight again, but he was the one doing this. not you.

"watch yo fuckin' voice hollerin' and shit at my ass. you was the one shakin' yo ass and shit in the club. all on instagram throwing shade at me, taking pictures of yo ass out. but im the damn problem. mane, get the fuck outta here with that," jey groaned rubbing his head in his hands

"so what? you can have bitches on your lap, but i dance on a nigga, and thats your problem? you're a fucking hypocrite! i hate your ass!" you instantly regretted that, not even just saying it. but thinking of it.

"i was pushing her off me! had yo ass looked you would've seen that shit! yo ass wasn't pushing ole boy off you. was you? yo ass wanted to get back at me so bad, you damn near was finna fuck him." the thought of you and the man was vivid in jey's mind. his eyes darkening all over.

"you're a fucking liar! you were letting her grind all in your lap! I seen it! what about a few weeks ago? the bitch from your job? asking you to autograph her panties?" you scoffed before looking away. the whole conversation was a dead end. it was getting no where. he was being a hypocrite and you only wanted your point to get across. but that was jey: never wanting to take accountability or listen to shit anybody else has to say.

"thats my fuckin' job! you know that shit!"

you threw your hands in the air, before walking into the bedroom. as you slammed the door behind you, your chest heaved with a mix of anger and frustration. you couldn’t wrap your head around how jey always managed to twist things, how he never took accountability for anything.

it felt like every fight ended the same—with you drained and him unfazed. you sat on the edge of the bed, gripping the sheets as if they could anchor you to something solid. what stung more was the realization that he probably didn’t even care. it was like he lived in a world where he could do no wrong, and you were just a storm he had to wait out.

jey leaned back on the couch with a smug smirk creeping onto his face. he rubbed his jaw, shaking his head like the whole argument was nothing more than a joke, "always trippin’ over nothing," he muttered to himself, grabbing his phone and scrolling aimlessly on instagram. in his mind, he wasn’t the problem—you were.

all he’d done was go out, and you couldn’t handle it. he did have a headache, but when he felt better, his cousin invited him to the club.

after a few drinks started making their rounds, so did the women. he did let the woman dance on him, and he did grab her hips to grind against her. but as soon as he remembered you—how you were waiting at home in nothing but a shirt and a pair of panties, probably fresh out of the shower smelling like vanilla—he pushed her off him. it was just dancing.

nothing more.

He chuckled low under his breath, his ego shielding him from any self-reflection. "man, she really be actin’ like I’m out here wildin’ for real," he said to no one in particular, tossing his phone onto the coffee table.

to him, the whole fight was just another example of you being “dramatic.”

you’d come out of the room eventually, probably still mad, but Jey figured he’d smooth things over like he always did. after all, you weren’t going anywhere. at least, that’s what he told himself as he stretched out on the couch, arms behind his head, convinced he was untouchable.

the sound of the shower turning on caught his attention, the thought of you undressing, body soaked with water, instantly got him worked up. he immediately stood up, his body moving almost on its own accord. the temptation was too strong to resist. jey made his way to the bathroom door, listening intently to the sound of water hitting tile. he hesitated for a moment, his hand hovering over the doorknob.

Was this crossing a line? you were still upset with him, after all. But the image of your wet skin, droplets and soap cascading down your curves, consumed his thoughts. he swallowed hard, desire overriding his better judgment. he wanted to make up to you the only way he knew how.

slowly, he turned the knob and pushed the door open. steam billowed out, enveloping him in its warm embrace. through the foggy glass of the shower door, he could make out your silhouette. his breath caught in his throat as he watched you run your hands through your hair, completely unaware of his presence. he began to undress himself, leaving his clothes in a small pile near yours. his hand grabbing his rock hard dick, beginning to stroke it to the sight of your body.

jey's heart raced as he silently slid open the shower door, stepping into the warm spray behind you. you tensed, startled by his sudden presence, but didn't turn around. he placed his hands gently on your hips, pressing his body against your back.

"i'm sorry," he murmured against your neck, his lips grazing your wet skin. "let me make it up to you, mama."

you remained still, conflicted. part of you wanted to push him away, to hold onto your anger. but his touch sent shivers down your spine, awakening a familiar hunger.

jey's hands roamed up your sides, cupping your breasts as he kissed along your shoulder. a small gasp escaped your lips, betraying yourself. he smiled against your skin, knowing he was breaking through your defenses.

slowly, you turned to face him, water cascading down your front. your eyes stained red as tears flowed freely from them, "i love you, baby." he sighed before wrapping his arm under your thigh to push it against your chest, "you love me?"

you knew his question was a ploy to get you to break down. you feel for it every time. you nodded weakly, your resolve crumbling. "i love you too," you whispered, your voice barely audible over the rush of water.

his signature smirk appeared on his face—he won. you weren't going anywhere. he kissed you deeply, passionately, as if trying to convey all his emotions through that single act. your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer, your body betraying your lingering anger.

you knew you should resist, should hold onto your anger, but your body responded to his touch instinct. jey's lips crashed into yours, passionate and hungry. you melted into his embrace, your body responding to his touch despite your lingering hurt. his fingers dug into your thigh as he pressed you against the cool tile wall.

"show me," he growled, nipping at your earlobe. "show me how much you love me, mama."

he positioned himself at your entrance, sliding his dick between your folds. your arousal leaking all over him, "its yo dick, mama. you all mines. y'hear me? ion want nobody else..." you whimpered as Jey teased you, your body trembling with need.

"fuck," you breathed, your fingers digging into his shoulders, "i need you so bad."

jey smirked, clearly pleased with your surrender. in one swift motion, he thrust into you with a grunt at the feelings of your pussy hugging him tightly, filling you completely. you cried out, overwhelmed by the sensation, "that's right, mama. no one else can make you feel this good. yea?"

"look at you, taking my dick so well," he purred, his voice dripping with arrogance. "you can't stay mad at me when I'm fucking you like this, can you?"

you shook your head weakly, overwhelmed by the pleasure coursing through your body. your anger melted away, replaced by a desperate need for more.

"tell me I'm the best you ever had," jey demanded, his ego swelling with every word, his voice low and dripping with arrogance as he leaned closer, his eyes locked on yours like a challenge he knew he’d already won

as he began to move, setting a punishing rhythm, you lost yourself in the sensations. the steam, the heat of his body, the fullness of him inside you, was all so familiar. all of jey's apologies ended this way. you lowered your head into the crook of his neck as your mewls bounced off the glass walls. jey felt the sensation of tears on his shoulder, warm and damp against his skin. at first, he rolled his eyes, a slight smirk tugging at his lips again.

the more he moved, the less pain you felt—and soon you were taking him so well. his dick was coated in your slick, a ring of white started form around his base as he plunged in and out of your pussy.

you felt pathetic. here you were; screaming and yelling at jey for being so inconsiderate about your relationship, inappropriate with other women, swearing you were done with him...and now you're crying about letting him fuck you in the shower. his dick thrusting in and out of your pussy, and bouncing you on it.

right where you belonged.

"this all you needed right, mama? stop crying. tell me whatchu needed. you just wanted to get fucked, hm?" jey laughed breathlessly, pressing you deeper against the wall as his hips pounded into you, "gotta remind my girl she ain't leavin' me. only place she belongs is right here. fuck me back, baby."

jey placed small kisses on your cheeks, where your tears rolled down. you hated him for making you like this—complete putty in his hands. you knew he was ruining you for all others. but what could you say? no matter how many fights, you still loved him. everything with him just felt right. you couldn't picture it with anybody else.

he chuckled darkly, increasing his pace. "that's right, mama. you all mine. no matter how mad you get."

your pussy clenched around him. the only sound in the room was you pussy making obscene noises every time he stroked, "j-jey.." you sobbed out against his shoulder as jey hit that perfect spot deep inside you.

he was like an animal in your ear: grunting and growling as he pounded you with little regard.

"i-i hate you," you whimpered unconvincingly, your walls clenching around him.

jey laughed, the sound rich and condescending. "no you don't, mama. you close? focus on cummin' baby. i love that shit."

each thrust puts stars in your vision. he’s splitting you open from behind with a steady, strong pace. your pussy clenches down on his cock and he curses under his breath at the feeling. he loved how you squeezed his length as quiet, pained mewls escaped your throat. your stomach dropped and your hips shuddered as he went deeper and deeper inside of you. your mouth opened on a loud string of sobs as you push your hips towards his. you felt your belly start to tighten as his strokes sped up.

"m-m-m gonna c-cummm," you let out a strangled cry as your orgasm flooded the both of you.

"shit! fuck, baby. you can take it. it's your dick" he growled as your pussy tightened from overstimulation. it made his eyes roll and stomach clench so hard that it hurts.

"you ha-have to pull, aw fuck! you have to pull out." you and jey always used some sort of protection. jey remembered, you mentioning how you forgot to renew your birth control pills. he finally found his way out of another one of your dramatic ass arguments. he was gonna make you a mommy, "w-we can't bring a baby into th—"

"shh, shh," he hushed your protest as his hips continued to rock into your pussy, his dick coated in a sheer layer of white slicking him up, "don't worry bout that, right now. just focus on cummin' again, baby. you so pretty when you do." his voice almost hypnotic

jey's thrusts grew even more forceful, your body bouncing against the slick tile with each powerful movement. He gripped your thighs tighter, fingers digging into your soft flesh as he held you in place.

you sniffled as you finally calmed down. your body still betraying you by leaking onto jey's dick. he pressed his lips to yours and groaned spilling rope after rope inside you with choking gasps. your over-sensitive, aching pussy twitches at the feeling of his hot cum inside of you, sending another mini orgasm out of you. he kept his dick plugged inside of you, feeding you soft thrust, making sure all his cum was drained into you.

"you know I love you, right?" he let out a small chuckle, his tone dripping with amusement as he pressed soft kisses on your face—your eyes welling with tears again, "i told you it wasn't that deep. stop being so childish, ight? y'know you my baby. no other motherfucka but you."

you blinked, confused, a mix of frustration and guilt clouding your thoughts. he could see it in your eyes, how the doubt started to creep in. you opened your mouth to argue but found yourself hesitating. the way he framed it, the way he made you feel like the one in the wrong, made you question everything, "you're right...i'm sorry, jey. i really am."

"that's what i thought," jey murmured, his smile widening as he pulled you closer, wrapping his arms around you like nothing had ever happened. his touch felt possessive, almost reassuring, but you couldn’t shake the knot in your stomach.

you’d said it—apologized when it wasn’t even your fault—but his manipulation left you feeling small, but once again, it didn't bother you.

he kissed the top of your head, acting like everything was fine, like the argument had never happened. "you’re good, baby," he whispered, his voice smooth, convincing. "stop letting these lil things mess wit us. we gone start our own lil family soon. my baby's gonna have my baby."

his words made your pussy soak his dick again absentmindedly and tighten all over. your body betrayed you once again, your pussy clenching and fluttering around jey's softening cock still buried inside you. a rush of warmth flooded your core as you felt his seed seeping deeper, seeking out your womb with primal purpose. your inner walls rippled with aftershocks, milking every last drop from him as if desperate to be filled.

jey set this up...he flooded his cum into you and right now it was rushing towards your womb. you couldn’t shake the feeling that this wasn’t the right time, and maybe, just maybe, jey wasn’t the right person. yet, it all still felt so perfect.

his voice was honey-sweet, dripping with false tenderness that you desperately wanted to believe. "yo body knows what it needs, even when that pretty lil head of yours get all mixed up with drama and being childish."

you nodded, your chest tight as you fought the overwhelming urge to pull away, to tell him the truth—that this wasn’t okay, that it shouldn’t be this way. but you didn’t. because the way he looked at you, so certain and calm, made you second guess yourself again.

yet, imagine the look on your face when you see two pink lines on a pregnancy test 3 weeks later and a DM of a video with another woman's lips on your mans in the back of the club. but of course, he was pushing her off...right?

right?

❦

don’t forget to follow and reblog! drop me a comment too, i love reading those. <3

tags:

@caramelcleopatraa @harmshake @msbigredmachine @angiedawn02 @amandairene88 @cyberdejos2 @queeny23 @empressdede @trentybenty @heauxvibez @whatdoeseverybodywant @shes2real @romansthrone @southerngirl41 @jaza23 @prettyfilmz @uceyliyahh @strxwberry-milku

merry christmas! 💘

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celestiamour · 17 hours ago

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pls pls plsss write smth where fem reader and se-mi meet at the games and fall for one another? w the reader having a sort of bubbly and cute personality! tysm 🫶🫶

ft. se-mi x f! reader — squid game

╰₊✧ falling for your cute and bubbly personality┊0.7k words

contains: fluff! reader is a sweetheart, asking you out

➤ author's note: i was so in love with her this entire season like i couldn’t stop giggling every time she showed up on screen

you seem to be able to create friends even in this impossible situation, she notes as she watches you with amused eyes while you flutter around the room from group to group like a pretty butterfly flying from flower to flower. there’s at least one person in the dozens of teams who you know by name and not number, and even if you didn’t, you thought all of them were deserving of a drop of sunshine that was your personality. you made even the most difficult people crack a smile with how infectious your energy was and how sweet you were even in these murder games, and it made her indifferent heartbeat a little faster whenever it was her turn to have your attention. who wouldn’t feel that way when there was such a cute girl who reminded her of the princesses from those cartoons she watched when she was little?

“se-mi unnie!! how are you holding up?”

she hadn’t seen the real light of the sun in days, yet your smile shone even brighter than the morning star and she briefly wondered if she would be blinded if she looked directly at it. you were like a doll in the sense that it seemed to be permanent, but after seeing the look on your face after the first game where dozens died like they meant nothing, she now knows you were simply spreading some much-needed love to others as a way to cope with the traumatic experience like the sweetheart you were.

“i’m doing okay, i just wish the food tasted better— come sit next to me,” she commanded, patting her free hand against the open spot on the mattress because she wanted as much of your time as possible.

“well, it’s kimbap, so you can’t really go wrong with it!” you obediently climbed onto the bed with her, sitting so close that she could smell the artificial flower-scented soap of the shower you took a couple of hours ago. “when we get out of here, you should come over to my place and i’ll cook you some food! i’m not as good as my grandma, but it’s a lot better than the cold stale stuff they serve here.”

“that would be great.” she liked the idea of coming over to your place, already able to imagine your room full of stuffed animal collections and lace curtains, although she would much prefer it if she came as something more than a friend— but now that she thinks about it, did you even like girls in that way like she does? you didn’t really express romantic interest in girls, but you exactly didn’t show any for guys either, being more of a little sister figure for them all rather than a potential love interest like she saw you as.

there was only one way to tell, so se-mi did what she did best, and that was flirting with girls.

“god, i wish this could be over already,” she sighed as she leaned over to your side to rest her head on your shoulder. “i would love to come over to your place, we could have a spa night and watch romance movies until morning.”

as soon as the words left her mouth, she felt heat start to radiate off your face. “l-like a date?”

“well, only if you want it to be a date…”

“w-well… um… i would… really, really like that… um, mrs kang is calling for me! i’ll talk to you later!” you stuttered as you rushed off in the direction of the old lady and her son, covering your face with your hands and running away like an embarrassed anime girl. she watched carefully as you told them something in a clearly excited tone before smacking the man with the glasses when his head snapped in se-mi’s direction, but they both seemed very happy for you which made her smile knowing you were on board

“goddamn it, why is everyone pulling cute girls except for me?!” an annoyingly familiar voice from a certain purple-haired rapper started. “what am i doing wrong? i’m thanos for crying out loud, i should be getting swarmed!”

“you might want to work on your technique.”

#📜. her works #se mi #se mi x reader #squid game #squid game x reader

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m1dn1ght-r0t · 2 days ago

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Eyes Wrapped in Wool

Yandere! (ex) husband x amnesiac! fem reader

TW: manipulation, toxic/abusive behavior, mentions of (potential) forced imprisonment, coercion A/N: pretty sure amnesia doesn't work this way (i'm no medical professional) but pls suspend disbelief for the sake of the plot ahahah

Your husband never expected things to turn out this way. But by some stroke of luck—or perhaps divine intervention—you ended up bed-ridden in the ICU, suffering from multiple bone fractures and a terrible, oh-so-terrible, traumatic brain injury. Just last week you were talking his ear off about how you've had enough. How you were done with him controlling what you could wear or who you could see, his suffocating clinginess that devolved into explosive rages when you spent time focusing on work or with friends instead of with him, the negging, the snooping, the smashed plates... Jesus Christ. You just never knew when to shut the fuck up, did you? At some point he had stopped listening. Chalked off your dramatic tirade as nothing more than you acting up because of your period—merely white noise. How many times have you guys had this same broken record conversation? Yeah, he knew this marriage wasn't smooth-sailing. If it were, you'd be less opinionated, less bitchy, more pliant, more dutiful. But what relationship was ever perfect? So, he waited for you to run out of steam, as you inevitably do, before adding salt to the wound:

“You know baby, if you weren’t parading around in those slutty clothes of yours and acted your grown age for once, I wouldn’t be behaving that way.”

The scrunch of disbelief mixed with disgust on your face only spurred him to double down. “And maybe if you actually committed to this marriage like a devoted wife would, rather than prioritize your career and practically everyone over me—your husband, need I remind you—then we wouldn’t be having these issues. Ever considered that, hm?” He purposely dragged out his words, a patronizing lilt to his tone, in hopes of reminding that thick, dumb skull of yours that he always knew best.

It wasn't until you had thrusted the divorce papers in his face that he grew silent, the severity of the situation beginning to creep in. ...What? You couldn't actually be serious... right? This was just some lover's spat. A temporary blip that'd be smoothed over with a few intentionally placed saccharine words and hot make-up sex. Like always. So why the fucking theatrics? Are you really gonna be a bitch about this and d— When you slammed the front door shut with your packed bags in tow, leaving him to stew in your parting words—that you deserved better, so much better than him, and that if he didn't sign the papers, he'd be hearing from your lawyer—did the gravity of it all finally sink in. By the end of the week, your voicemail was battered by his countless furious messages. Are you done being a flighty little piece of shit, huh? What the fuck do you think you're doing? I swear to god, baby, I'm gonna drag your ass back here. And if I have to lock you in some basement and chain your hands and legs so you'd never think to leave me again, then so fucking be it. Divorce? Yeah right. Over my dead fucking body. Then came an unknown call. It was like whiplash, really, to first hear that you had been involved in a major car crash, and then, upon rushing to the hospital at neck-breaking speed— "I'm afraid she has retrograde amnesia", the doctor solemnly informed him. He could cry. Oh, he could fucking cry.

On the outside, anyone could see how distraught he was, his hands trembling as he processed the diagnosis, eyes glistening with unshed tears. Poor husband that he was, having almost lost his beloved wife in a freak accident, he now had to deal with the news that she didn't remember who he was. Inside, however, raged a war he couldn't reconcile: what was harder? Holding back the tears, or pretending those very tears were out of sadness rather than pure, unbridled joy? Because what this neatly packaged situation had presented him with was a do-over, a chance to mend the broken marriage teetering on the cusp of divorce. And like hell he's about to let you throw away a three-year connection like some ungrateful cunt when he loves you so, so much.

"Hey sweetheart, how are you feeling?"

As he walks up beside your hospital bed, he can't help but revel at how vulnerable you look. The slight furrow in your brows hinting at your confusion, the way you curl in on yourself as if to protect yourself from who is no doubt a complete stranger in your eyes, and your meek "Who are you?"—a far cry from the usual feisty, snarky attitude you used to dish out.

But perhaps most rewarding of all is the tentative gaze you offer him, eyes filled with a sort of curious glimmer, free from the hostility, disappointment, and hurt you'd flashed his way. You didn't look at him with hate. You simply want to know who he is.

Oh, aren't you precious? He'll gladly feed you his carefully spun narrative until you're full of nothing but adoring love for him—the embers of your thoughts about divorce and leaving him snuffed out for good.

"I know how confusing all of this must be for you. Take all the time you need. I'll be right here with you, as your husband, helping you fill the gaps, okay baby?" He delivers this with as much patience as he can muster, softening the edges of his words to avoid spooking you. But you're not soothed. If anything, you're more overwhelmed than ever. "M-my husband?" You echo, tasting the foreign word, sticky like warm toffee on your tongue.

"And...and my family? Where are they?" Your disorientation is a sight for sore eyes; how badly he wants to devour you right now. "Dead," he intones, a script he'd been desperate to act out ever since you said your vows. Catching himself on his rather deadpan delivery, he quickly rectifies it by injecting a note of consolation into his tone. "They died when you were very young, you see."

"What? How could that be? So my p-parents...they're both—" Your breath hitches, tears welling at the corner of your eyes.

At that, he gently grabs your bandaged arm, wanting to comfort you. But when you flinch slightly, he has to resist the urge to snap at you—Oh, cry me a river. Who the fuck cares?? I'm right here, aren't I? I'm right here, damnnit, so look at me!

Instead, he tempers the resentment that's still fresh in his heart after the divorce stunt you'd pulled by reminding himself that he's supposed to be your kind and gentle partner.

So he settles for cradling your hand in both of his like it's fine china, grazing his lips over your fingertips. "But you have me, sweetheart. And I'm not going anywhere."

He half expects you to question his story—it wasn’t very convincing, even to his own ears—prepared to be barraged by your endless streams of “No, you’re wrong!”, “I don’t believe you!” or some other similar outburst.

But when all you do is gaze up at him with cinched brows, seeking reassurance, blinking at him so sweetly with your hand still snugly warmed in his, he pauses. That’s it? No suspicion, no skepticism, no outburst? Hah! He has to physically restrain himself from snorting because how fucking easy can this get?

Maybe the collision had completely scrambled your brains, rewired you to be more stupid, a little slower—exactly how he likes you.

"You trust me, right?"

And when he feels that subtle twitch of your fingers—what he gathers is your attempt at squeezing his hand back for confirmation—accompanied by the sight of your small, almost shy nod, he breaks out into a giddy smile at how utterly adorable you’re being.

Fuck, it’s hard not to already feel high off these micro-doses of innocence and receptiveness from you. Emboldened by your intoxicatingly sweet naivety, he dares to be a little greedier, creeping to perch on the edge of your bed, his hand now moving to cup your cheek.

“You have no idea how worried sick I was when I got the call. I thought you had…” He trails off, his implication clear. His face is mere inches from yours now, breaths as featherlight as his fingertips mapping every divot on your face.

“I love you,” his thumb swiping across your bottom lip. “So, so, so much.” His whisper has grown heavier, fueled by the longing of missing the feel of your touch, your skin—a week too long without the softness of your lips pressed against his.

“My wife. My good little wife. You love me too, right?” Without warning he’s leaning in, ready to close the gap. And it’s all too fast and soon so in the last second you hesitate, pulled from your stupor as you turn your head away.

But he’s not having it. Not when you’re already in the palm of his hand and he’s so fucking close. When he can already taste the opportunity to finally take out the trash and parasites leeching off you, to call up that godforsaken shithole you call a stable, steady-paying job and quit on your behalf, to have you all to himself—a blank slate to knock up with several kids and mold into the perfect little housewife he's always wanted you to be. God, he's already hard at the thought.

Grabbing your jaw firmly, he jerks your face back towards him, thumb roughly wedging between your lips and prying your mouth open.

“Baby.” The endearment spills out, sharp and cold, stripped of any warmth it might've once held. “Gimme a small kiss, hmm?”

His gentle veneer cracks ever so slightly, and for the briefest moment, you see something else. A flicker beneath the mask—raw, ugly, messy. It claws at the edges of your mind, dredging up something you can’t quite grasp. A memory?

All of a sudden you feel like you can’t breathe, weighed down by the unsettling intensity of his stare. The man in front of you—the one claiming he's your husband and calling you “baby,” the one touching you—feels wrong. He’s a stranger, you remind yourself. An almost involuntary shiver runs down your spine, like your body remembers something your mind refuses to.

At this point, your husband has caught on to your rather obvious spiralling. He’s not an idiot—he can see your doubt giving way to panic. He contemplates smoothing things over by playing nice, but the selfish part of him ultimately wins.

He squeezes your jaw. “Kiss me.” It isn’t a request this time.

#male yandere x reader #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere scenarios #yandere writing #yandere oc #yandere male #male yandere #yandere oc x reader #yandere oc x you #yancore #yanderecore #tw yandere #yandere imagine #yandere ex

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starrrcane · 2 days ago

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Spilled coffee

sevika x reader angst chapter two

summary: you realize if sevika is to truly become a leader of zaun she cannot handle any distractions

warnings: profanity, sad sevika :(

The words Sevika said in Silco’s office wouldn’t leave your mind. “He became weak for her. Just like Vander did”

It had been days, but they echoed in your head like a broken record. You turned them over, again and again, trying to figure out if there was something deeper in what she said. Silco and Vander both—leaders who had lost their edge, distracted by the people they loved.

And Sevika? Now she was the leader of it all. Zaun rested on her shoulders. And you...

You started to wonder if you were becoming her distraction.

She was barely home anymore. Most nights, she slept at the office. Even when she was with you, her mind seemed miles away, drowning in the weight of leading a revolution. The two of you hadn’t shared a proper conversation in days. Could she really afford to split her focus between Zaun and you? Could anyone?

The thought ate at you until you couldn’t ignore it anymore. Sevika would never walk away from you—she was too loyal, too stubborn. But you could take matters into your own hands. She didn’t need another person to weigh her down. You loved her too much to let that happen.

And so, one night, you started packing. It wasn’t an impulsive decision. You’d been thinking about it for days, even looked into finding a small apartment on the far side of Zaun. Just something to give Sevika the space she needed.

It wasn’t like she’d notice much of a difference. She wasn’t around enough for it to matter.

You were halfway through clearing out your side of the closet when you heard the front door open and close. Your heart sank. Of all the nights, she had to come home now.

“Why didn’t you come to the door to greet me?” Sevika’s voice called out, slightly playful but tinged with her usual irritation. She appeared in the doorway, her expression softening when she saw you.

But then she stopped in her tracks. Her eyes darted to the suitcase lying open on the bed, then to the ransacked closet, your empty drawers, and finally, to you.

“What are you doing?” she asked, her tone sharp with confusion.

You turned around slowly, forcing yourself to stay calm. “I’m just packing up,” you said, keeping your voice as steady as possible.

Sevika’s brow furrowed. “What the hell?” She stepped further into the room, her voice rising. “To go where?”

“Just… somewhere to stay,” you replied, avoiding her gaze as you folded another shirt into the suitcase.

“What do you mean, ‘somewhere to stay?’” she asked, her tone softening now, a thread of concern weaving through it. “What’s going on?”

You sighed, gripping the edge of the suitcase. “I just think it’s better for me to go. For now.”

Her face twisted with confusion, her sharp features softening into something almost vulnerable. “Did I do something wrong?” she asked, her gray eyes wide and searching.

“No, love,” you said quickly. “I just—” You swallowed hard, forcing the words out. “I just need to leave for a bit.”

Sevika’s lips parted slightly as though she was about to say something, but nothing came. For a moment, she just stood there, watching you like she was trying to piece together a puzzle she didn’t even know was missing pieces from the start.

“You don’t mean that,” she finally said, her voice quieter now. “Don’t go. Stay. I want you here. I need you here.”

Your hands shook slightly as you zipped up the suitcase. “I can’t stay here.”

Her voice cracked. “Why not? What did I do wrong?”

“You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Then why are you leaving?”

You hesitated, unable to meet her gaze. “I just… need to get away from you a while.”

“Away from me?” she asked, her voice breaking entirely.

“Yes,” you said before you could stop yourself.

The silence that followed was unbearable. You finally turned to look at her and saw the raw hurt in her eyes.

“Oh,” she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. Her shoulders sagged, and she took a small step back, as if the distance between you might shield her from the pain. You could see her mind racing, spiraling, trying to figure out what she had done to drive you away.

You snapped the suitcase shut, avoiding the way her hands twitched as if she wanted to reach out to stop you. When you started toward the door, she finally spoke again, her voice trembling.

“Wait.”

You paused, but you didn’t turn around.

“Please,” she said, the desperation clear now. “Just tell me why.”

You tightened your grip on the suitcase handle, your chest aching. “I can’t.”

And with that, you walked out, leaving Sevika standing alone in the doorway, her unspoken questions hanging heavy in the air.

#sevika #sevika x reader #sevika arcane x reader #arcane #lesbian #arcane x reader #i’m so tired #no happy ending #no happiness

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arc-misadventures · 3 days ago

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I Don't Want To Take That Class...

Today was now, Jaune's second day at, Beacon Academy for, Beast Masters. And, Jaune's school experience was so far: Not that great.

Well, at least today he could learn what his classes would be. Beacon had a system where on the first day of school students would orient themselves with the school, get settled into their room, but most importantly they would show off their, Spiritual Beasts so the teachers knew what monster they had, and how to best teach them to master their, Spiritual Beasts powers.

Jaune wasn't sure what he would be learn, considering, Salem's powers were so fast, and how certain members of the teaching staff were giving him, and more importantly, they were giving, Salem some very questionable looks. Particularly, Headmaster Ozpin.

Salem had told, Jaune about her rather interesting past with the man. Only the brief rundown of things, but he figured it would be for the best if she explain everything in detail. Less he walked into something he didn't want to be in.

~~~

Jaune: Okay... Where am I...?

: Oh, hi, Jaune!

Jaune: Hmm? Oh hey, Ruby.

Ruby: Here to find out what classes you're in?

Jaune: Yeah. Have you found out what classes you're in?

Ruby: Yep!

Jaune: Can you tell me what classes you have? Maybe we have one in common.

Ruby: Sure! I have classes for, Shadow, and Wind magic. But, since you are omni-elemental we'll probably have the same classes. You're probably have the same classes as everyone.

Jaune: Probably. I'll also be in the flight class since I can... well: Fly. Regeneration though... yeah...

Ruby: C-Can you actually regenerate...?

Jaune: Yes.

Ruby: Are you going to elaborate?

Jaune: Do you really want to know how that works?

Ruby: ...

Ruby: No...

Jaune: Smart lass.

Ruby: Okay, but can you tell me about.. Ooph?!

: There you are, Rubes! I've been looking all over for you!

Jaune was taken aback as an older, far more well endowed blonde woman put, Ruby in a headlock, and started giving her a little noogie.

Ruby: Yang?! Stop it!

Yang: Alright, alright I'll stop. I'll... Oh? Well hello~! You must be, Jaune Arc, the guy with the, Spiritual Deity!

Jaune: Yep, that's me. And, you are...?

Yang: Yang Xiao Long! This little twerps big sister! It's a pleasure to meet you!

Jaune: Pleasure.

Yang held out her hand for a hand shack, and Jaune moved his hand to shake it. But, it stopped when her hand was slapped away from his. Yang, and Ruby turned to look at her hand utterly perplexed. All the while, Jaune turned to left as he scowled at the air.

Jaune: Why did you do that? It was just a handshake!

Yang: Uhhh...?

Jaune: We just met her, what's so untrustworthy about her?

Yang: Who is he talking to?

Ruby: Oh! He's talking to his, Spiritual Beast!

Yang: They can talk to each other?

Ruby: Yeah, they do it all the time!

Yang: That's true? I thought that was just a joke?!

Ruby: It's true! Although, Jaune does look a little crazy since he's talking to 'nothing.'

Yang: Yeah, that does look a little...!?

Jaune: What?! Just because she's wearing a midriff, and showing off her belly does not mean she's a harlot?!

Yang: The fuck did you just call me?!

Jaune: Nothing! I did not call you anything at all! Salem called you a harlot though...

Yang: You wanna go missy?!

Yang pointed in the air, as she challenged a god to a fist fight.

Jaune: She's behind you.

Yang: Eh? OWW?!

Yang turned around, and then reeled back as she felt someone's finger flicked her forehead.

Yang: D-Did she just flick my forehead...?

Jaune: Yeah, sorry about that. Salem is... possessive to say the least. She doesn't like it when other girls get too close to me.

Yang: Sounds like a possessive wife.

Jaune: If you knew why she's so possessive of me... you... you wouldn't blame her... that much.

Yang: Are you going to tell me?

Jaune: Best you don't know. Now if you'll excuse me, I need to learn what my classes will be.

Jaune quickly left to go see what classes he was placed into, leaving the sisters alone.

RY: ...

Yang: Well... He seems like a pretty nice guy... It's a bit weird to have an invisible girlfriend batting everyone away from him though.

Ruby: She's actually his wife!

Yang: Really?

Yang: It's still weird that she does that.

Ruby: Yeah it is weird...

~~~

Jaune: Do you see my name on any of these lists, Salem?

Salem was floating over head the crowd of students, searching for her beloveds name among the. She was phasing through the ones who were to close to the board overhead for those she couldn't see.

Salem: Afraid not my love. I've scoped all of these lists, and I haven't found your name on any of them.

Jaune: That's not good...

Salem: Oh, and why is that?

Jaune: Because of you, Salem, it means that they've no doubt come up with a special class of some sorts exclusively for me... And, since i am one of the rare few to have a, Spiritual Deity as my, Spiritual Beast they'll want to run some tests on us.

Salem: Are you sure of that?

Jaune: It's been over four thousand years since the first person became a, Spiritual Beast Master. And, since there have only been just over two dozen, Spiritual Masters who have formed a bound with a, Spiritual Deity. And, to make matters worse, I am the first person you've ever formed a bound with. They are going to run some tests on us.

Salem: These tests... I will have to show myself before them then... This feels like a trap...

Jaune: But, is it for me, or is it for you?

Salem: That doesn't matter! You are my husband! If they come after one of us, then are coming after the both of us, and if they dare harm so much a single golden lock of hair from your head, I will introduce them all, I will remind, Ozma of what is a, Spiritual Deity's FURY!

Jaune watched as a whirlwind of elemental powers swirled around, Salem. Fire, ice, lighting, earth, shadows, and light rage in a kaleidoscope of raw power hang in the air about her. It was a beautiful sight to behold, his beloved showing off the full range of her powers.

To him that is.

Jaune: Salem, you look beautiful, honey. But, everyone is looking at me like I'm crazy since they can't see the, Oni Queen making a storm of elemental powers in the air, they just see the elemental storm ball.

Salem: Eh...?

Salem looked to her side seeing a crowd of students looking on, some in awe, others in fear.

Salem: Whoops...

The storm slowly faded away as, Salem nervously floated down in front of, Jaune. She bashfully looked away from him as a fierce blush was spreading across her face.

Salem: Sorry...

Jaune: It's okay, Salem. It was a good way to flex on everyone.

Jaune rubbed his hand along, Salem's cheek as she swooned into his hand. This loving moment between couples was swiftly brought to the end, when the were interrupted when someone unexpected appeared.

: That you are, Mr. Arc. Lady, Salem...?

Standing before them was the deputy headmistresses of, Beacon Academy. Who looked rather cross...

Jaune: Hi, Professor Goodwitch! C-Can we help you with anything?

Glynda: Can you.. two come with me. Headmaster Ozpin wishes to have a word with you.

Jaune: About our classes?

Glynda: Yes, since you have made a contract with a, Spiritual Deity we've had to come up a unique set of classes for you to do.

Jaune: I expected as much...

Glynda: Will you come with me so we may discuss it?

Jaune: Alright then... We'll come...

Salem: Are you sure this is a wise idea, Jaune?

Jaune: Nope, but what else can we do?

Salem: Improvise?

Jaune: That'll work...

~~~

"Ding~!"

The elevator doors slowly opened, and Jaune, and Salem were greeted to the sight of a trio of teachers, Jaune didn't want to see.

Before him was, Professor Peach, Dr. Oobaleck, and lastly, Headmaster Ozpin.

Out of the three, Professor Peach was the one, Jaune was the least suspicious about. She was a medical doctor, so she was probably here to see about his regeneration abilities. He could understand her curiosity about that, everyone was curious when it came to his regenerative abilities. However, based upon how she wanted to test these abilities, that's where he started to grow cautious of her.

Dr. Oobaleck put, Salem's nerves on end, and in turn, Jaune's as well. He was a scientist, so of course he was curious about the capabilities of, Salem's powers. But, Jaune had read enough science fiction books, and shows to know that the most dangerous scientist there is, is the one who was trying to test the bounds of science, and no one was there to tell them this one simple thing: "No."

So many terrible events that happened because science gone crazy could have been solved if someone just said, "No, bad scientist, no!"

And, lastly he had, Headmaster Ozpin. Out of the three, Jaune was most cautious of this man. Salem had told him plenty of things about, Ozpin, and the results of his, Spirit Curse. So, unless everyone didn't behave. Things were going to become very bad, very, very quickly.

~~~

Ozpin: Ahh... Hello, Mr. Arc. Do you know why we brought you here today?

Jaune: Considering that I didn't see my name on the list of classes, I assume you asked me here to tell me what my classes are?

Ozpin: You are correct, Mr. Arc. Because of your unique circumstances, being partnered with a, Spiritual Deity, and all. Along with your wide variety of spiritual powers, we had to come up with some unique classes to teach you, Mr. Arc.

Jaune: I expected as much... what classes will you be teaching me?

Ozpin: Well, start with, Professor Peach. Professor?

Peach: Thank you... Hello, Mr. Arc, I am Professor Padma Peach. We won't be having too many classes together. Mostly we'll be having tests.

Jaune: Trying to determine the capabilities of my, Regeneration abilities?

Peach: Why, yes! I am most looking forward to learn how that ability of yours works!

Jaune: That's one of us...

Ozpin: Bart.

Oobaleck: Hello, Mr. Arc! My name is, Doctor Bartholomew Oobaleck! I will be teaching you how to control your basic elemental powers! Earth, fire, water, and air! I have never taught an omni elemental before! My fellow teacher, Peter Port will also be assisting me during your teaching! He was busy monitoring the students so he couldn't be here! But, I can assure you, he is most excited to teach you as well!

Jaune: O-Okay...?

Ozpin: And, lastly, Mr. Arc, I will be teaching you how to use your light, and dark magical powers. We will be dividing these class for three to be spent learning ight, and dark magic, and the rest will be spend on your other elemental powers. Professor Peach will only be available during your other elemental powers. But, that should offer her enough time to study your regeneration capabilities.

Ozpin: We will be sending you a timetable of these, and your various other classes you will be taking. We look forward to teaching you, Mr. Arc!

Jaune took in his words with a grain, no, a heap of salt. Professor's Port, and Peach, and Doctor Oobaleck all teaching him in tandem made sense, he was omni elemental after all. But, having a class all alone with, Ozpin.

Jaune mulled over this news, but as he looked to the side, and came to a simple conclusion.

Jaune: I don't want to take that class, Headmaster... No, I won't be taking that class...

Ozpin: Excuse me?

Jaune: Deputy Headmistress, Glynda Goodwitch already teaches classes on dark, and light magic, I want her to teach me those classes, not you.

Ozpin: What are you talking about, I am the most skilled teacher of those elements the world over. I can assure you, I can help you master those powers.

Jaune: And, I can assure you, Headmaster... We will not be taking any classes with you...

Ozpin raised his mug to his face to take a drink, but paused as he took in his wrods.

Ozpin: 'We?'

(Smash.)

Ozpin: What was...?

Ozpin dipped his drink to far, and his drink spilled out of his mug. But, instead of a splatter of how bean water, a solid chunk of coffee ice fell out, and shattered on top of his desk.

Ozpin: What the?!

Ice. Ice emanated from the floor around, Jaune. The temperature in the room fell rapidly, one could see their air as they breathed. For all, but one that is. Jaune stood before, Ozpin, his body was at ease, calm. He didn't seem to be bothered by the coldness building in the room, or it didn't appear that the cold was affecting him at all.

Jaune: Now you've done it, Headmaster...

Ozpin: Done... Done what?

: Not taking my 'hint!'

Within a fraction of a second, The Oni Queen, Salem appeared before Ozpin. She was floating in the air before him, a calm smile played across her lips as the tempest of the storm loomed over the, Headmaster.

Ozpin: Hint... What hint...?

Salem: You think I flicked your forehead as some sort of 'playful teasing?' Hmm...?

Salem cocked her head to the side, her voice was loud for all to hear. Jaune could tell she without seeing her face that she was giving him a cold, an emotionless toothy smile. And while, Jaune knew she had a beautiful smile, it was a predators smile. She bore fangs that could rip through metal with ease, and when she showed off her fangs, the likely hood she was threatening you was very, very high.

Salem: No, that was a warning... a warning to tell you to keep your hands to yourself...

Ozpin: Keep my hands to myself...?

Salem: Yes. For it has come to my attention that you do not seem to remember why you were cursed with immortality. And, we are all too willing to remind you of why that all happened. But, if you dare touch a single hair on my lovers head. I will show you why my daughter held me back the last time you received divine punishment! Understood, Ozma.

Ozpin's body has slowly begun to freeze to his chair as, Salem lowered the temperature more, and more to the point his, Aura's protective barrier was failing to withstand the extreme cold. With a shaky, and cold breath, he answered her.

Ozpin: O-O-Okay...! I-l-l-leave you two alone!

Salem: Good~! Now then...

Salem soon floated over, and appeared before, Glynda, the pair locked eyes before, Salem gave, Glynda a toothy half smile, before she returned to address, Ozpin.

Salem: Glynda here will be teaching, Jaune how to master his light, and dark magic works. Understood?

Ozpin: Y-Y-Yes...

Salem: Good~! Now, let go, Jaune. I'm done with this worm.

Jaune: Alright then. Goodbye, Ms. Goodwitch, Professor, Peach, Doctor Oobaleck. I look forward to seeing you in class.

With that the pair walked into the elevator, and left. Leaving behind the three freezing, and frozen teachers behind.

Glynda: Ozpin... I do not care for whatever schemes you are planning, but I will take you down before she gets a chance to if you push things too far! Understood?

Ozpin: P-Perfectlly... Miss Goodwitch.

Glynda: Good!

Ozpin: Now then... B-Bart?

Oobalek: Yes?

Ozpin: Can you call, Port up here at once... I-I-I'm frozen, and can't move...?!

Oobaleck: On it!

Well, Jaune now would have his class schedule, and Salem had given, Ozpin's final warning. The school year was finally about to begin for real!

Hopefully things didn't go to hell too quickly...

#rwby #jaune arc #yang xiao long #ruby rose #rwby salem #rwby ozpin #glynda goodwitch #bartholomew oobleck #peter port #professor peach #jaune x salem #salem x jaune #rwby grimmknight

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thedemoninme141 · 2 days ago

Text

The Maiden Of Death Part 2

Summary: You finally needed Wednesday for something and she learns some interesting things about you in exchange and yet she wants to know more.

Part 1

Pairings: Wednesday x Female reader. Wordcount: 5.8K-ish Warnings: Nothing Really? I guess roles reversed by Wednesday getting her feelings hurt just a tiny bit so a little angst?

The walk back from the bus station was a quiet one. Even Enid, who could usually fill any void with her endless chatter, seemed reluctant to speak. She kept glancing at you nervously, as though unsure whether to say something or not. Eugene walked close to her, shielding himself behind her as if you were radiating gamma rays.

You didn’t so much as glance back at the others, walking as if you were alone in the world.

Wednesday lagged behind slightly, her dark eyes fixed on you. Questions churned in her mind, but she knew that asking them outright would show her curiosity. And she would never, under any circumstances, let you know how deeply you intrigued her.

Still, the scene from earlier refused to leave her mind. The way you had dismantled those boys, it wasn’t just violence. It was precision, efficiency, calculated as if you had done this hundreds of times before.

But what stuck out the most was what she didn’t see. You hadn’t conjured any weapons. You hadn’t used whatever strange ability had allowed you to summon a parrying knife in the library.

Why?

The question burned at the edges of her thoughts. She tried to dismiss it at first, reasoning that it was none of her concern. But the more she tried to push it away, the more it consumed her. If you could summon a weapon in an instant, why bother with a bat and a chain? Why risk getting your hands dirty when you didn’t have to?

Without realizing it, she had quickened her pace and was now walking beside you. Your focus was still straight ahead as if you knew Wednesday is going to ask something.

The quiet stretched between you two, until Wednesday broke it.

“Why didn’t you just conjure a weapon?”

The question was direct, delivered with her usual bluntness.

You didn’t respond. You didn’t even glance her way.

Wednesday’s irritation flared. “It would have been faster. Cleaner. More effective.”

Still, you said nothing.

Enid and Eugene exchanged worried glances behind you. They really don't want to be caught between crossfire.

“Are you going to ignore me?” Wednesday pressed.

You finally stopped walking. Turning slightly, you met her gaze with a calmness that bordered on unsettling. For a moment, Wednesday thought you might ignore her again. But then, in a voice devoid of emotion, you said, “I can conjure weapons that I’ve… earned. Weapons that have accepted me. All of them are lethal.”

You didn’t elaborate. You didn’t explain. You simply turned and continued walking, leaving her standing there with more questions than answers.

Wednesday followed in silence, her mind racing. What did you mean by “earned”? And what exactly did a weapon have to do to “accept” someone?

She wanted to push further, to demand an explanation, but she stopped herself. It wasn’t hesitation, she told herself. It was strategy. She would learn the truth eventually, there was no need to rush.

But as she watched you walking ahead, your shoulders relaxed, your posture indifferent, Wednesday couldn’t shake the feeling that you were hiding something. Something deeper. Darker.

You were a puzzle, and Wednesday Addams would solve you.

No one exchanged a word until the four of you reached the main building. You walked away from the group without so much as a glance back. No goodbye, no acknowledgment of the people who had trailed after you all day.

Enid watched you go, a small frown tugging at her lips. “She could’ve at least said bye,” Enid sighed and nudged Wednesday. “C’mon, let’s go. I’m exhausted, and you’ve probably got some brooding to do or whatever.”

They walked in silence back to their shared dorm room. Enid occasionally glanced at Wednesday, her lips twitching as if she wanted to say something but thought better of it.

When they finally reached their room, Enid flopped onto her bed with a dramatic groan.

“I don’t even know where to start,” she said, stretching her arms above her head. “Y/N is just… wow. She’s like… you but not you. Does that make sense?”

Wednesday didn’t respond. She was already at her desk, pulling out a book and flipping it open. But despite her best efforts, the words on the page blurred together, her focus slipping.

“She’s so quiet,” Enid continued, propping herself up on her elbows. “Like, quieter than you, and I didn’t think that was possible."

Wednesday’s fingers tightened around the edge of her book.

“Did you see how she looked at those guys? Like they were… I don’t know, bugs or something. And then wham! Down they went. I mean, I get it, they deserved it, but still.”

“She handled it,” Wednesday said finally, her voice flat.

Enid rolled her eyes. “Yeah, she handled it, but it was… intense. And you don’t think I didn’t notice you staring the whole time."

“I wasn’t staring,” Wednesday snapped, her tone defensive.

Enid smirked, sitting up fully now. “Oh, you were staring. I don’t blame you, though. She’s… interesting. In a creepy, mysterious way. I mean, you two could totally be related or something. Have you asked your parents if you lost a twin or something?"

Wednesday ignored her, her eyes fixed on the pages of her book, though she hadn’t absorbed a single word.

The truth was, Enid wasn’t entirely wrong. You were interesting, irritatingly so. You were like a distorted mirror image of her, similar in some ways but fundamentally different in others. The quiet, the detachment, the sharpness, it all felt too familiar and yet so different.

As the night wore on, Enid sat cross-legged on her bed with her laptop, scrolling through social media and occasionally humming under her breath. Wednesday remained at her desk, engrossed in her book, though her thoughts strayed far from the text.

“Huh,” Enid said suddenly, breaking the silence.

“What?” Wednesday asked without looking up.

“Of course Y/N doesn’t have anything social. Can’t find her anywhere.” Enid frowned at her screen, scrolling furiously. “No Instagram, no Snapchat. It’s like she doesn’t exist. Does she even have a phone?”

“Maybe she doesn't want to be a slave to modern technology either,” Wednesday said coolly, though the revelation piqued her interest. "And why are you so concerned with finding her online?”

“Why are you so concerned with finding her online?” “Because I wanted to write a blog post about her!!!” Enid said, her eyes wide with excitement. “And, don’t you want to know more about her? Where she’s from? Why she’s here? What her deal is?”

Of course Wednesday wanted to know. She just wasn’t about to admit that to Enid.

Instead, she closed her book with a deliberate snap and said, “If she wanted us to know, she would have told us.”

“Or maybe she’s waiting for someone to ask her,” Enid countered.

Wednesday didn’t reply. For a moment, she let herself imagine what it would be like to ask you. How she would ask you. The thought annoyed her. She wasn’t supposed to care about such things. And yet, here she was, her mind tangled up in questions about you, questions she didn’t know how to ask, questions she wasn’t even sure you’d answer.

The calculated knocks startled neither of them, it was gentle but deliberate, three slow raps against the wood. Enid glanced up first. “Uh, I'll go get it.”

She hopped up and padded to the door, opening it cautiously. Her eyes widened when she saw you standing there, hands tucked into the pockets of your black hoodie.

“Is Wednesday here?” you asked.

Enid blinked, clearly surprised, before nodding and stepping aside, opening the door wider. Wednesday finally turned in her seat, and there you stood… you didn’t step in.

Wednesday’s dark eyes narrowed, reading your body language in an instant. You wanted to speak to her, but not here, not with Enid present. She closed her book before standing and as she passed Enid, she motioned with a small, firm gesture for her roommate to stay inside and close the door.

She stepped out into the hall, brushing past you with just enough space to show her own sense of control. You didn’t flinch. You didn’t even seem fazed as Enid let out a defeated sigh and shut the door behind them.

The hall was empty, silent. You didn’t waste time. “There’s another library in Nevermore.” It wasn’t a question. “Where is it?”

The Nightshade Library. Hidden deep within Nevermore, its entrance disguised behind one of the worst puzzles she has ever solved, "Snap twice", Couldn't they make it a bit more challenging?

“Why do you think I would know where it is?” she asked, her tone carefully neutral.

You tilted your head slightly, as if evaluating her. “Because if anyone knows, it’s you.”

The faintest flicker of satisfaction crossed Wednesday’s face. She liked being recognized for her intellect, especially by you.... wait what?

“And if I did know?” she countered. “Why would I share that information with you?”

You didn’t answer immediately. Instead, you leaned against the wall, your dark eyes meeting hers with an intensity that made her feel, for the first time in a long while, as if someone were looking through her rather than at her.

“What do you want?” you asked finally, your voice low and measured.

Wednesday hesitated. She could deny her curiosity, feign disinterest, but she knew you would see through it. So she decided on honesty, or at least a version of it.

“I’ve solved enough mysteries to recognize one when I see it,” she said, her tone steady. “And you, Y/n, are a mystery. You’re here for something. At first, I suspected it was something sinister, but…” Her lips twitched ever so slightly, not quite a smile. “Your actions at the shop earlier today disproved that theory. Not that I’m impressed or anything.”

For a moment, there was silence. Then, to Wednesday’s surprise, your lips curved into a faint smirk.

“One good deed doesn’t fix a thousand sins, Wednesday,” you said.

It was the first time she had seen you smirk, and something about it unsettled her. It wasn’t the smirk itself, it was the fact that it felt… earned. As if it was meant for her and her alone.

And it lingered only for a sceond before fading.

“I’ll make you a deal,” you said. “I’ll tell you about me. Not everything, but enough to satisfy your curiosity. How much depends on how much you help me get what I need.”

Wednesday’s brows knitted together, her mind working rapidly to process your words. This was a gamble, a game of secrets and trust or lack thereof. And yet, she found herself intrigued.

“Very well,” she said finally. “But don’t think for a moment that I’ll be satisfied with scraps. If I’m helping you, I’ll expect substance, not crumbs.”

You didn’t respond, but something in your gaze shifted, a silent acknowledgment of her terms. Without another word, you turned and began walking down the hall.

Wednesday followed, her steps light and deliberate, her mind churning with questions. What were you looking for in the Nightshade Library? Why were you so guarded? And why... why did she feel something seeing your smirk?

The statue of Edgar Allan Poe was just ahead as the two of you stopped.

Wednesday stepped forward, she glanced at you, her dark eyes daring you to comment. You remained expressionless, giving her nothing, as always.

She snapped her fingers twice.

The faint clicking of mechanisms echoed, and the statue shifted. Its heavy base slid back, revealing a dark staircase spiraling downward.

Neither of you spoke as you made your way down the stairs.

Once at the center of the library, Wednesday turned to face you. “What are you looking for?”

“That’s not part of the deal.” You said as your eyes were scanning the shelves, skipping over rows of books as though you instinctively knew what you sought. She internally sighed for even offering to help.

It didn’t take long. Your gaze landed on a dusty, leather-bound tome nestled deep in the recesses of a high shelf. The book was thick and worn, and it was tightly bound by some sort of green metallic wires. It was dusty, untouched for ages like most of the books here.

As you reached for it, Wednesday approached, her curiosity clearly piqued. She peered over your shoulder as you pulled the book free, revealing its cracked and worn leather cover etched with strange, arcane symbols. You carried it to a nearby table and set it down carefully, your fingers brushing away the layers of dust.

“What is it?” she asked, her voice quieter now.

Before you could answer or more likely refuse to answer, a faint sound from behind you drew your attention.

Without hesitation, you conjured a katana in one fluid motion. You spun on your heel, the blade slicing through the air, and lunged.

The blade sang through the air as you moved with precision, grabbing the intruder and shoving him against the bookshelves. Xavier’s mask clattered to the ground as he struggled against your grip, your blade pressed firmly against his throat.

“Wait, wait, wait! Stop! Whoa! Whoa!” Xavier stammered, his wide eyes darting between the blade and your impassive face.

Wednesday smirked, crossing her arms as she observed the scene. “You shouldn’t have stopped,” she mocked dryly. “Xavier could use an upgrade. He might finally get the touch he needs so much! Getting rid of his face.”

Xavier shot her a panicked glance. “Not helping, Wednesday!”

One by one, they all came out, the members of nightshade society—Bianca, Ajax, Yoko, Kent and Divina.

“You can’t just bring whoever you want down here,” Bianca snapped. “This place is supposed to be a secret.”

Wednesday rolled her eyes, her smirk deepening. “Clearly, it’s not much of a secret if you’re the ones guarding it.”

Bianca shot her a warning look before turning her gaze to you. “You don’t belong here,” Bianca said, her voice cold. “And in case you didn’t know, Ajax can stone you, and Yoko is faster than you’ll ever be. So I’d think twice before trying anything.”

You didn’t even flinch. Instead, you tilted your head slightly and replied in an even, calm tone, “Do you want to try?”

The group exchanged uncertain glances. Wednesday noted the faint flicker of fear in their eyes, a reaction she found... satisfying.

Yoko stepped forward, chuckling softly. “I’m not faster than you. Don’t mind Bianca; she’s still feisty from getting beaten by you in fencing.” She shot a playful look at Bianca, who scowled in response. Yoko’s grin awkwardly widened as she pulled Bianca back, making way for you.

“By the way,” Yoko added, glancing at Xavier, who was still pinned to the bookshelf, “can I make a tiny request? Not really important, but maybe let go of him before he has a heart attack?”

Your gaze shifted to Xavier, the look in your eyes promising, If you try that again, I won’t stop my sword next time. Slowly, you pulled the blade back as it vanished into the air as you unconjured it.

Without sparing another glance at the group, you reached for the book, tucking it under your arm as you turned to leave.

Wednesday followed, pausing only to glance over her shoulder at the stunned group. “I’d say it was nice catching up, but I’d be lying.”

You didn’t speak as Wednesday walked behind you. She didn’t expect you to. But the weight of unanswered questions was pressing on her. Finally, she broke it.

“What’s in the book?” she asked,

“Information,” you replied simply.

She frowned slightly, pressing further. “Information about what?”

“Not me.”

The two words were curt, but their meaning was clear. Wednesday’s mind immediately clicked back to the terms of your deal. She had taken you to the Nightshade Library, and in return, you had promised to answer her questions about yourself. But this book wasn’t part of that exchange. It was something else entirely.

“Fine,” Wednesday said “Now it’s my part of the deal. I ask you questions about yourself, and you answer truthfully. Do not attempt to lie. I can tell the difference.”

Finally, you stopped and turned. There was something unreadable in your expression—calm, detached, as always, but then it shifted. Slowly, deliberately, your lips curled into the faintest smirk. It was subtle, almost imperceptible, but Wednesday caught it.

That smirk.

She hadn’t seen any emotion on your face Enid had tried to engage you, when the Nightshade Society had surrounded you with suspicion and hostility. She had only seen it when it was only you and her, it was there, just for her.

It was... unsettling.

Before Wednesday could dwell on it, your voice pulled her from her thoughts. “Ask your questions and be done with it.”

Wednesday’s fingers twitched behind her back as her mind raced through the countless questions she wanted to ask. But she knew she had to start somewhere.

“Why are you really here?”

You raised an eyebrow.

"What did you do at your last school to get transferred here, or did you come willingly?” she elaborated.

“I came willingly,” you said without hesitation, your voice calm, as if the answer was obvious.

“Why?” she pressed.

“I had work.”

“Work?”

“Demon hunting.”

It was so matter-of-fact, so devoid of emotion, that Wednesday was momentarily speechless. She blinked, half-expecting that smirk to return, telling her it was sarcasm. But you didn’t. Your face remained neutral, your posture relaxed yet guarded, as if you had just told her something as mundane as the weather forecast.

“What… what does that mean?” she asked, her voice quieter but no less intense.

“It means exactly what it sounds like,” you said evenly. “I get hired to hunt demons. My father trained me.”

The words landed with an almost tangible weight. Wednesday prided herself on her composure, but even she found it difficult to mask the intrigue and unease bubbling inside her.

Her mind raced. Demon hunting? It sounded absurdly dangerous, but the calmness with which you spoke of it suggested otherwise. Still, she found herself grappling with the idea of someone her age taking on such a task.

“How old are you?” she blurted before she could stop herself. She instantly hated how curious she sounded, but the question lingered nonetheless.

You rolled your eyes, the closest thing to irritation she’d seen from you. “I age normally. I’m your age.”

It was such a simple answer, but it left her with more questions than before. Why would someone your age be hunting demons? Why would your father send you to Nevermore now? And more importantly, why did you move through the world with such deadly precision, like you were always preparing for the next fight?

“Why do you hunt demons?” she asked, her voice softer now, almost hesitant.

You didn’t answer immediately. For a moment, you simply looked at her, your expression unreadable. Then, finally, you said, “I think the questions you’ve asked are enough payment for your assistance.”

It wasn’t a refusal, but it was a wall, just like the one's she has built around herself. You weren’t going to answer. Not now. And yet, the way you avoided the question only made her more determined to uncover the truth. Wednesday wasn’t used to being denied, and she found the challenge you presented both infuriating and... intriguing.

She followed you silently as you began walking again, her gaze flicking to the book in your hands.

“Demons,” she finally said, her voice slicing through the quiet. “What are they exactly? Giant monsters? Beasts with claws and fangs? Creatures of folktales?”

You didn’t answer as if her words had evaporated into the night air.

The lack of response was infuriating and Wednesday wasn’t even surprised. She had expected resistance. Still, she persisted. “You claim to hunt them. Surely you can describe what it is you face. Or do you find it amusing to leave me in ignorance?”

Again, you didn’t respond, and Wednesday’s jaw tightened. Her dark eyes flicked to the book you held, its worn cover and metallic bindings catching the faint light. Now the book intrigued her just as much as you did.

Her mind raced with possibilities. She couldn’t simply take the book from you; you would sense her intent before she could act.

Dispatching Thing to steal it was out of the question as well. She could already envision the outcome: you sensing Thing’s presence, catching him mid-act, and possibly doing something drastic. The way you had nearly sliced Xavier’s throat in the blink of an eye without any hesitation just for sneaking up on you... No, she couldn’t risk Thing. She would need another way to learn more.

Her voice cut through the silence again. “Your swordsmanship, was that something your father taught you?”

This time, you slowed your steps, just enough for her to notice. For a fleeting moment, something flickered in your eyes, an emotion she couldn’t quite place.

“No,” you said simply. “I figured that out.”

Wednesday’s brows knitted together in disbelief. “You figured that out?” she repeated, her tone laced with skepticism. “No one simply ‘figures out’ swordsmanship. It takes years of training, discipline—”

You interrupted her “I figured it out,” you repeated, leaving no room for argument.

Frustration simmered beneath Wednesday’s composed exterior. Your cryptic responses were as infuriating as they were intriguing. She couldn’t fathom how someone could master a skill like that without instruction. But then, nothing about you followed conventional logic.

The two of you reached the steps to Ophelia Hall, for a moment, it seemed the conversation was over, but Wednesday’s curiosity refused to let her remain silent.

When the hallway to her dorm came into view, her frustration boiled into something she rarely allowed herself to feel: desperation. You had what you wanted now. There was no more reason for you to seek her out, no leverage she could use to force you into another exchange.

This was it.

For the first time, Wednesday Addams felt the sting of helplessness. And she hated it.

As you turned to leave, something in her snapped. “Wait.”

You paused, glancing over your shoulder. “What?”

Her mind scrambled for something, anything to keep the conversation from ending. The words tumbled out before she could stop them. “Show me.”

“Show you what?”

“The way you beat me,” she clarified, her tone sharpening as if to mask the vulnerability behind her request. “During our last fencing match.”

You turned fully now, facing her.

She continued, her voice cool and measured. “I know how to handle a rapier. I’ve studied various forms of swordsmanship. But the technique you used—it's unlike anything I’ve seen. It could prove… useful.”

“Useful?” you repeated, your tone neutral but tinged with curiosity

Wednesday hesitated for a fraction of a second, but she quickly masked it coming up with something. “Yes. I’ve been meaning to put Bianca in her place again. Your technique might be just the thing to humiliate her properly.”

“And what makes you think I’d teach you?”

She rolled her eyes as her tone sharpened. “It’s not a matter of ‘teaching.’ You wouldn’t need to explain. I can observe. All I need is for you to demonstrate. You seem to enjoy a challenge. Consider this one.”

You tilted your head slightly, studying her. The faintest smirk tugged at the corner of your lips, and Wednesday felt her irritation flare. That expression again. She hated how it made her feel—off-balance, as though you were the one dissecting her.

“I’ll think about it,” you said at last.

Wednesday’s eyes narrowed. “That wasn’t an answer.”

“It’s the only one you’re getting right now,” you replied.

You turned without another word, continuing down the hall toward your dorm. Wednesday remained rooted to the spot. Her thoughts spiraled, replaying every word, every glance, every flicker of emotion you had allowed her... only her to see.

She had what she wanted, another thread to pull, another opportunity to uncover more about you. But even as she told herself it was all for the sake of satisfying her curiosity, a nagging voice in the back of her mind whispered otherwise.

She ignored it. Or at least, she tried to.

When Wednesday stepped into her room, Enid bolted upright in her bed,

“Wednesday! Oh my god, you’re finally back!” Enid whisper-yelled, her voice a mix of relief and exasperation. She clutched her phone like it was her emotional support animal.

“I was so scared you were out there doing something... you know... Wednesday-ish. And with Y/N? Are you kidding me? I thought for sure I was gonna get a text saying you’d been arrested. What were you thinking?”

“I was thinking,” Wednesday finally replied, “that I do not require your approval or your concern.”

Enid huffed, crossing her arms over her pink top, “Well, someone has to worry about you because you clearly don’t!” She paused, “Anyway... how was the date?”

Wednesday froze mid-step as she turned to face Enid. “Excuse me?”

“The date,” Enid said, emphasizing the word with a mischievous grin. “You know, you and Y/N, sneaking off together into the night, exchanging cryptic looks and intense vibes. Classic romance. Sooo... how did it go?”

Wednesday glared at her, the look sharp enough to cut glass. “It wasn’t a date, Enid. It was an interrogation. One that, I might add, yielded frustratingly little information.”

Enid flopped back onto her bed dramatically, groaning. “Ugh, you’re no fun. How can it not be a date? I mean, the two of you are so...” She gestured vaguely, her hands mimicking some kind of explosion. “...tension-y.”

“Tension-y is not a word,” Wednesday deadpanned, moving toward her wardrobe to retrieve her nightclothes. She disappeared behind the changing screen, her voice carrying through. “And whatever you imagine my interactions with Y/N to be, I assure you, they are nothing of the sort. It was just an exchange of information, nothing more.”

“You’re no fun. Fine, it wasn’t a date. But you can’t deny there’s something going on between you two. Totally intense. And you-”

“Enough, Enid,” Wednesday cut her off, climbing into bed. “If you insist on fantasizing about my personal life, at least do so silently. I require rest.”

Enid rolled her eyes but smiled. “Fine, fine. Goodnight, Wens. Sweet dreams of a certain someone.”

Wednesday groaned internally as she closed her eyes, letting the darkness of sleep swallow her. But even as her mind began to drift, she couldn’t help but replay your last words to her: “I’ll think about it.”

Wednesday’s gaze flicked over the students passing by. You should be here, she thought, where are you?

“You’re weirdly quiet this morning,” Enid noted, glancing at Wednesday as they approached their table with breakfast “Not that you’re usually a chatterbox, but still.”

“I was reflecting on the peaceful silence I enjoyed before you began speaking,” Wednesday replied dryly.

Enid rolled her eyes but let it slide. The two of them sat down, Enid immediately reaching for the stack of waffles in front of her.

“So,” Enid began between bites " I was thinking-"

"Truly a groundbreaking moment in history." Wednesday muttered.

“Ha ha,” Enid said sarcastically. “As I was saying, the Poe Cup is coming up, and we need to form a team.”

Wednesday sipped her coffee, unimpressed. “You mean, you need to form a team. I’m not interested.”

“Oh, come on!” Enid said, pouting. “Last year was so much fun, and we actually won! Don’t you want to keep the streak alive?”

“No.”

“Please? Pretty please?” Enid got out her puppy eyes.

Wednesday sighed, setting her cup down with more force than necessary. “Why don’t you find someone else? I have better things to do.”

“Well,” Enid said, fidgeting with her fork, “that’s the thing. One of the girls on our team transferred out after all the drama last year. So... we’re already down a person even if you join.”

“Tragic,” Wednesday said dryly.

"And everyone seems too afraid to participate, no one seems to come up... So I was actually thinking about asking Y/N to join too.”

Wednesday froze. Slowly, she turned to face Enid, her eyes narrowing. “You were planning to ask her?”

“Yeah,” Enid said brightly, oblivious to Wednesday’s sudden tension. “I mean, if she says yes, you and her in the same team? We will have the most unstoppable team in Nevermore history. And if she says no... well, I’ll just have to work extra hard to convince her.”

Wednesday didn’t respond, her mind preoccupied with conflicting thoughts. On the one hand, she had no desire to participate in another Poe Cup. On the other, the idea of you aligning with Enid’s cheerful chaos—and possibly bonding with her—left an unpleasant taste in her mouth.

Finally, Enid broke the silence. “So? Are you in?”

She let out a tired sigh. “Fine. I’ll join your team. But only because your incessant whining is insufferable.”

Enid beamed, clapping her hands together. “Yes! You won’t regret it, Wens. We’re going to crush everyone. And when Y/N joins, it’ll be game over for the competition.”

Wednesday didn’t share Enid’s enthusiasm, but she couldn’t deny a flicker of curiosity. If you agreed to join the team, it would be yet another opportunity to observe you up close, to understand what makes you- you.

“Ready to lose, Addams?” Bianca asked, adjusting her grip.

“I don’t lose. I simply assess flaws in my opponents’ technique until they defeat themselves.” Wednesday replied, stepping into position.

Strike, parry, lunge—her movements were precise, calculated, and relentless. But even as she focused on the match, her thoughts were elsewhere.

Where are you?

You weren't at breakfast, You hadn’t appeared for fencing class. She told herself it was curiosity, maybe her need for a rematch, nothing more. But the faint pang of disappointment at not seeing you was a feeling she couldn’t entirely suppress.

Bianca’s blade grazed Wednesday’s shoulder, snapping her attention back to the match.

“Distracted today, Addams?” Bianca taunted, taking the advantage to press forward.

Wednesday’s eyes narrowed. She wouldn’t allow anyone, least of all Bianca, to expose a moment of weakness. With a swift disengage and a perfectly timed riposte, she scored a touch on Bianca’s chest, earning a point.

“Hardly,” Wednesday replied, her voice icy.

The match ended in her victory, as expected, but it felt hollow. Even as she returned her rapier to its rack and packed away her gear, her mind kept circling back to you.

Alchemy class had started precisely ten minutes ago. Wednesday sat at her station, her notebook open and pen poised, ready to absorb whatever instruction was given. Despite her usual attentiveness, her gaze kept flicking to the door.

It wasn’t until the teacher began explaining the chemical interactions of reagents in transmutation circles then you finally entered.

You walked in as if you owned the room. No apology, no explanation. Your footsteps were measured, calm, as though arriving late was entirely intentional. The other students turned to look, whispering to one another, but you ignored them all. And took the empty seat beside Wednesday.

She waited for you to offer some explanation, but none came.

Finally, she leaned slightly toward you, her voice low enough not to attract attention. “Where were you?”

Without even looking at her, you replied, “I don’t think that’s any of your concern.”

The curt dismissal sent a flicker of irritation through her. She narrowed her eyes, studying your profile.

“Interesting,” Wednesday said, her tone flat but with a razor’s edge. “Your penchant for evasion is almost as impressive as your talent for making enemies.”

“I didn’t realize I was supposed to inform you of my every move. Should I start providing hourly updates?”

“I wouldn’t have asked if it weren’t relevant,” Wednesday countered.

"I fail to see how my schedule has any bearing on your life.” you replied, turning your attention to the potion ingredients laid out in front of you.

Wednesday’s fingers tightened around her pen.

After last night, she had thought they had... progressed, in some way. Not to friendship, she didn’t entertain such trivialities, but to something more than this cold indifference.

Evidently, she was wrong.

She turned her attention back to the professor, though her thoughts remained stubbornly fixed on you.

When class ended, Wednesday packed her things with more force than necessary. You, as usual, seemed unbothered, moving at your own unhurried pace.

She considered leaving without a word, but the thought of you dismissing her again was unbearable.

As the two of you exited the classroom, she matched your stride.

She didn’t speak immediately, her mind grappling with the questions swirling in her head.

Finally, she broke the silence. “About last night.”

“What about it?” you asked, not looking at her.

“I thought we had reached some… understanding,” she said, her tone carefully neutral.

You finally turned to look at her, your eyes sharp and unyielding. “I told you what I’d tell you. Nothing more, nothing less.”

Her jaw tightened. “And the demonstration you promised?”

“I didn’t promise anything,” you said evenly. “I said I’d think about it.”

“And?” she pressed.

“I haven’t had time to think about it,” you replied, your tone dismissive.

“You seemed to have plenty of time last night.” she said.

Your lips quirked slightly, not quite a smirk but close. “You think too highly of yourself if you believe I’ve spent the entire night pondering your request. And now that I do think about it, I don’t see why it matters. You’re not worth wasting my time.”

The words struck Wednesday harder than she expected. She kept her face impassive, but inside, a strange, unfamiliar ache bloomed. Her jaw tightened, her fists clenching at her sides. She hated the way her chest ached, hated the vulnerability that threatened to surface.

But she would never let you see it.

“I see,” Wednesday said finally, her voice icy. “Then perhaps I shouldn’t waste any more of your valuable time.” Without waiting for a response, she quickened her pace, leaving you behind. Behind her, your steps slowed, and she resisted the urge to look back.

Botany class passed in a blur for Wednesday. The usually calming task of handling deadly poisonous plants gave no solace. Her mind churned with your words, replaying them over and over. She hated how much they stung, hated the power you seemed to wield over her thoughts.

And yet, when class ended, you approached her.

“Meet me behind the greenhouse,” you said, your voice low and deliberate. “After the sun falls.”

Before she could respond, you turned and walked away. She hated how you left her with more questions than answers. But despite herself, she knew she would meet you.

[A/n: Tried another new route, in most fics I see that it is the reader character who earns Wednesday's smile, so I thought I should reverse the roles a bit, how did you guys like this one?]

Taglist: @rqizzu @sevyscoven @kingoftheracoons @masterofpuppets-10 @alexkolax

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lqveharrington · 14 hours ago

Note

steve harrington - you are in love <3

congrats on 2k!

You Are In Love | S.H.

summary: you and steve have been best friends forever, but overtime, you both realize that there's something more to your friendship than you both thought there was.

pairing: steve harrington x hopper!reader

includes: fluff, minimal usage of Y/N, oblivious idiots, kissing, el and reader are siblings, robin and max play match maker

a/n: cutie patootie stevie! (rules for celebration here!)

Steve Harrington was the type of man girls would go crazy over. From the way he behaved to the way he dressed, they would do anything to get his attention. Luckily for you, he deemed you to be his best friend since childhood. When Tommy and Carol whined about you always hanging around them in high school, Steve would swiftly change the subject. He really only liked hanging out with you anyway.

When you both graduated, something shifted between the two of you. Without the hindrance of Tommy and Carol, you and Steve were free to do whatever you wanted. Whenever you would hang around him, it felt like time would stop. He kept you on your toes despite knowing him for so long.

Weekly dinners around Hawkins during the year would soon become a tradition between the two of you. In your eyes they were friendly dates, but to the kids, you were practically dating. From the whispers as you hung back with him when taking the kids around the mall to the silver necklace he bought you during the summer — they saw something you and Steve couldn't.

They had to do something about it. Fortunately for them, you both made it quite easy.

"Harrington, are you taking me to dinner today or should we reschedule?" You hop onto the counter of Family Video, crossing your legs and smiling brightly at him. "Henderson told me you might have to drive him home after his DND thing or whatever."

"First of all," He started and pulled your legs to the side, sending you a bored look. "I'm at work and you can't bother me." You jokingly pout and follow his movements, watching him restock the bowl of candies at the front. "Secondly, we're still on for dinner. Dustin can get a ride from Munson."

You throw your head back and laugh, "Ah yes, the shared custody of your child."

He rolled his eyes and looked past your head, narrowing his eyes at Max and Eleven. "Why did the girls want to come here again?"

"Uhm, they said they were checking out a new movie that came out." You shrug and slide off the counter. You look in their direction to find them giggling and whispering about something you almost wanted to know about. Almost. "Anyway, don't miss me too much. I'll see you in a few hours, Harrington."

Steve pressed a kiss to the side of your head and pushed a stray piece of hair away from your face. "I'll see you in a bit, Hopper."

You grinned at him and sent him one last wave before rounding up the girls, dragging them back to your car. Before you could even ask them to buckle up, they began hounding you with questions you never expected them to ask. One of the more odd questions sticking out the most.

"Have you ever slept with Steve?" Eleven asked, making you whip around with wide eyes and mouth agape. Her own eyes widened in fear and looked at you with concern. "What?"

Your face flushed a dark red and you began to stutter over your words, unsure of where the question even originated from. "Well, I— No, I haven't but I'm— I'm sorry? What's happening? Do you even know what that means?"

"That you sleep in the same bed as him." She tilted her head and giggled at your red face. "Is that not what that means?"

Max shook her head but found it all amusing, crossing her arms and raising her eyebrows at you. "You seem a little flustered, Hopper. What's up with that?"

"Nothing." You glare at her from your rear view as you pull out of the parking and begin the drive to her house. When Eleven still stared in confusion, you sighed and ran your fingers through your hair. "Yes, I have slept in the same bed as Steve before. And not like that, Mayfield."

"What?"

You shake your head and follow the road down, eyes occasionally flickering up to look at the girls who were still giggling. You didn't understand what they were trying to get at. You've always been able to sleep in the same bed as Steve since an incident years ago, but that was the extent of it all. Sure, you would occasionally sleep in one of his shirts and he would make you breakfast in the mornings, but that was it.

"Have you ever been on a date, Y/N?" Eleven asked again and fiddled with the ends of her sweater, eyes meeting yours in the mirror. "Like the ones me and Mike go on?"

"Uh," You signal and stop at a red light, fingers tapping the steering wheel in an effort to keep your cool. "I have, but it's been a while since I've been on a date."

As you turn, Eleven makes another comment that nearly makes you swerve right off the road. "I thought you and Steve were dating."

You choke on your spit and grip the wheel harder, face redder than Max's hair. Although you knew your sister's words were somewhat innocent, you knew the other girl was behind all the questioning. Steve was nothing but a friend to you. Your best friend. It would be weird to think of him as anything other than that, right?

Since childhood, he was nothing but your best friend. Sometimes you couldn’t help but think what would happen if anything else came out of it, but only in your dreams. When you realized how quiet you were, you silently cursed yourself for staying silent for too long as the girls came to their own conclusion.

"He kisses you a lot." Max drawled and bit back a smirk when your face reddens again, the sight nearly making her laugh once more. "Like more than you study for your exams in college—"

"What will it take for you two to be quiet for the rest of the ride?" You continue to glare at the red-head in the backseat and squint when she opened her mouth. "And your answer will not be money."

Max sighed and looked at Eleven, their eyes meeting and silently communicating with each other. They grinned wickedly and looked over at you, tone overly sweet when they answered your question.

"Admit you're in love with Steve Harrington."

"Oh, Stevie!" Robin grinned widely as she sauntered back in from the break room, leaning back against the counter. She met his confused eyes and tilted her head, still wearing a mischievous grin. "I have a tiny, little question for you."

Steve dug through the boxes underneath the table and waved his hand, barely listening to the girl. "Which is?"

"Could I just — I dunno — take a peek at your wallet?” She asked and pursed her lips to stop from laughing when she saw his incredulous expression peek from underneath the counter. “I just want to make sure my assumptions are right.”

"About what?" Steve sighed in exasperation and ran his fingers through his hair, praying that his hair still looked perfect after how many times he had done it.

"Just give me your stupid wallet." Robin huffed and snatched the leather from his hands. She scrunched her nose at him before opening the wallet, gasping when she found what she was looking for. "Oh my gosh."

Steve creased his brows and looked at the contents of his wallet. There was nothing but cash, his license, cards, and picture he’s had since high school. If Robin was planning on stealing, she picked the wrong day.

"What?"

"You do have a picture of Y/N in your wallet!" Robin all but squealed like a child, causing the customers in the store to look over at the commotion.

Steve sent them a strained smile before grabbing his wallet back from Robin and tucking it away, muttering quiet obscenities to the girl. Robin rolled her eyes, but the smirk that curled her lips overtook her emotions. He knew that some kind of electricity between the two oblivious idiots.

"You like her!" She spoke in a sing-song voice, lightly punching his shoulder. Robin laughed in excitement and shook her head before pausing, turning to look at Steve like a behavioral analyst. "Unless it's something more."

He looked to his left and to his right before raising a brow at her. He would never admit it out loud, but somewhere along the line he fell for you. Hard. From summer car drives to coffee at midnight — you were the one for him. Yet he didn’t want to ruin what the two of you had.

When Steve stayed silent for too long, she started to punch his shoulder in excitement again. It was the silence between asking about love that seemed to trigger everyone today.

"Oh, you're in love! Steve 'the hair' Harrington finally falls in love with his one true love!" She dramatically put a hand to her forehead and leaned back on the counter again. "I thought I would never live to see the day that happens."

He huffed and lightly shoved her, rubbing his hand over his face. "She's my best friend."

"And?" Robin pushed him back and continued to smile, clearly finding his reaction amusing. It wasn’t rare for her to tease him about his dates, but knowing that he was deeply in love with you made it so much more fun. "She clearly likes you too."

"She does?" Steve perked up and rolled his eyes when she winked at him. He flipped her off and pretended to be busy again. “You’re so annoying.”

"Stevie is in love!" She laughed again and sighed softly, tapping her fingers against the counter. "You're going to dinner with her tonight, right?"

He sent her an odd look and nodded, brows furrowing in confusion. "Yeah, what does that—?"

"Confess tonight! I'm sure she loves you too, Harrington." She slammed her palms down onto the counter, once again attracting the customers in the store. Steve sent them another apologetic look before turning his head to glare at the girl. By the end of the day, he swore that they would get a complaint about Robin.

Robin put a hand up to his face when she saw he was going to speak. “And before you back out, the girls and I already made a plan so nothing becomes awkward between the two of you if it fails."

Steve’s eyes widened and pushed her hand out of the way, mind reeling at all the knew information. "Wait what?"

"Nothing!"

After dinner, you both decided to take a walk around the neighborhood. The temperature was perfect and you and Steve had plenty of calories to kill before heading to bed. Besides, you both had unspoken words to say to one another.

"Are you okay? You've been acting strange since you picked me up." You nudged your shoulder with his and tilted your head, eyes worried with concern.

As you walked through the neighborhood, the orange lights from the posts began to flicker on as the sun set in front of you. On instinct, you moved closer to Steve, accommodating to the warmth you were losing. He hid a small smile and pulled you close by the shoulders.

Steve shrugged and kissed the side of your head again. The gears in his head were loudly turning and he wasn’t sure how to make them stop. He met your eyes and smiled softly when you smiled up at him.

"On a scale of one to ten, how would you rate the new diner?" He nudged his head back toward the diner.

You hummed and tapped your chin in thought, snapping your fingers when you figured out how to put it. "A solid six and a half. They threw us a dirty glare for being too loud, but their milkshakes were perfect."

He raised his brows and chuckled softly when you rolled your eyes at him. You were always such a sucker for strawberry milkshakes. "Yeah?"

"Yes, Harrington.” You send him a teasing smile before extending your arm and flashing him your left hand adorned with the wrapping from the straw wrapper. “I even got to make us our paper rings."

You turned to face him properly and grabbed his left hand, lacing them together to show the matching rings. You went to say something else when you found him already staring at you, making your mind instantly blank.

Steve swallowed and squeezed your hand, taking a step closer to you. "Y/N?"

"Yeah?" You murmur and take your own step closer until you were chest to chest.

His gaze dropped to your lips before looking back into your eyes, eyes filled with so much emotion. You gave him a curt nod and let him cup your cheek, shutting your eyes when he leaned in.

Your lips met and for the first time, you really believed time truly stopped. It was just you and him on the sidewalk of Hawkins, Indiana. Your own hands came up to grab the lapels of his denim jacket, deepening the kiss when he pulled you impossibly closer.

When you finally pulled away, your mind was still blanking and the first thing you could say was —

"Oh, my strawberry milkshake." You whisper out before groaning, hiding your face in his shoulder. "Now the thing I say after we first kiss will always be strawberry milkshake!"

Steve kisses the top of your head and gently squeezed your waist. "You're cute."

You scoff before looking up, playing with the buttons on his jacket. "Did Robin put you up to this?"

"Yep." He chuckled and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, narrowing his eyes at you when he realized what Robin meant. "Did the girls?"

"Yep." You sigh and push up on your toes to give him a quick peck. You tilt your head when he smiles, "We're not going to tell them about this and make them feel bad, right?"

"Of course not.” He laced his hands with yours and began the trek back to his car. "We're only best friends after all."

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mama-qwerty · 2 days ago

Text

Sonic 3 - Shadow

My hopes for Shadow’s portrayal in Sonic 3 were that they’d show him not as the ill-tempered edgelord, but as the grieving, hurt child he truly was. And I was not disappointed.

Sonic 3 spoilers ahead

The movie opens with Shadow in containment, suspended in a holding vat of fluid to keep him under control. He’d been in this suspended status for 50 years, and now he was waking up. As he awoke, his memories flashed of his time at the facility, where he met Maria and developed a close friendship with her.

He woke up and chose violence. All he remembered was losing Maria, and before him stood the same organization that took her from him. The same uniforms, the same aggressive stance. To him, that raid at the facility was still fresh. It happened very, very recently. We’re not privy to the timeline between when the raid happened and when he was put into stasis, but I don’t think it was longer than maybe an hour. If that.

So from his perspective, these could very well be the same people who had raided the facility and murdered his friend. Maybe he thought the raid was still going on. So he was thrust into a fight or flight situation, and did both—take down the enemy, and then retreat to regroup.

Except he found himself in a very different environment than he’d ever experienced. He’d only known the inside of a government facility. Tokyo was bright, and loud, and big, and there were so many people. But GUN wouldn’t leave him be, and he found himself fighting yet again.

And then these three other creatures showed up. Ones who were more like him than any he’d seen before. Especially the blue one, which was strange and confusing. He was the only alien on Earth, wasn’t he? He was different than anything else the scientists had ever seen. But there was another who looked like him? With two other equally strange creatures trying to stop him?

No matter. They were working with GUN, so they were the enemy.

And again, he took them down, and retreated.

Because ultimately, Shadow was dealing with anger, grief, confusion, and pain. He didn't know what to do with all that, because the person who helped him understand himself better was gone. Everything he knew was gone. The people he and Maria had trusted had turned on them, killed Maria, locked him away, and taken Gerald from him. He's lashing out because he doesn't know what else to do. All he's been faced with his entire life was pain and mistreatment, except for Maria, and they killed her.

Shadow has no idea who or what he is. He came from space, but he doesn’t remember anything before that. He’s on this planet with creatures who look nothing like him, being poked and prodded for who knows how long. Being studied and experimented on because he’s different, and has powers no one’s seen before. No one looked upon him with kindness, or reached for him with gentle hands.

Until Maria.

She looked at him and didn’t see an alien. A monster. A creature with unimaginable power.

She saw a lonely little boy. And she reached out to him.

Who knows how long it took him to trust her. When she first found him in his tube, he didn’t seem very interested. He’d likely had scientists of all kinds coming through to gawk at him, to stare at him and pluck his quills and shave some fur and take some blood, all the while never speaking to him. He was just a thing to be studied. An oddity to figure out.

But this girl was different. She would come and talk to him as he floated in his watery prison. Draw on the glass. Maybe she even taught him to speak, and read. And over time, maybe he looked forward to her visits. And she became more bold to sneak him out of the lab when the scientists ran their experiments.

We don’t know Gerald’s relationship with Shadow. The most we see is after Gerald had gone mad from his own grief from losing Maria. Maybe he thought Maria would tame this creature, and allow him to be more successfully controlled for whatever Gerald wanted. Maybe he actually did care about Shadow, at least somewhat, and the raid on the facility—he claimed they were actually after Shadow as he dragged them behind him in an attempt to escape—made him blame Shadow for Maria’s death.

We don’t know.

But when Shadow saw Gerald again at the abandoned facility, he was relieved. Finally a familiar face. Someone he could trust, and ask questions about what was going on, and what their next step should be. And when Gerald corralled Shadow into this quest for vengeance, Shadow went along with it because he trusted Gerald. And it felt right to want to hurt those who’d hurt Maria. It felt productive to turn that anger outward onto the people who deserved it.

Except . . . it didn’t.

Gerald said this was what Maria would have wanted. Shadow wasn’t so sure that was right. But he was still running on pain, and he looked to Gerald for guidance, just as he had looked to Maria for it.

So he did as he was told. Capturing the others when they’d found the facility. Initiating the black hole that swallowed the facility and destroyed all evidence of the torture, the pain, the love and acceptance he’d endured in his time on Earth. Taking every shred of evidence of Maria, and erasing it.

Did it feel good to him in that moment? Having all those reminders of her wiped away?

Or did it just make that ache in his heart worse? Because it was like losing her again. And now it was as if she’d never existed. No roller skates. No guitar. No little tent with the stars and lights casting a warm glow inside.

Just . . . gone.

Just like her.

Focus. He had to focus. Gerald had a plan. And if he said this is what people deserved, then Shadow would believe him.

So he stayed behind as Gerald and the other Robotnik infiltrated GUN. Tried to focus on the bigger picture.

But that nagging little thought remained.

When things went south at GUN, he stepped in, took the key from Walters. It had felt satisfying to deliver a blow to one of the men who’d been there that day, all those years ago.

Only it wasn’t Walters. It was . . . someone else. Someone that blue hedgehog cared about very much. And oh, that brought back painful memories. And that pain he’d felt that day—so long ago but so fresh to him—flared anew, and he’d felt so, so guilty for causing that pain to someone else.

No. That didn’t matter. Whoever this was had been in Shadow’s way. He had a mission to complete. He’d only done what he’d had to.

Aboard the ARK, he continued to question the validity of this plan. But Gerald assured him this was what Maria would have wanted. So he went along with it. Things were moving the way Gerald wanted.

But that ache in his chest refused to go away.

And then a golden something hit him, smashing him out of the ARK, and drawing him into a fight. It was the blue hedgehog, and whatever power flowed through him bled out and merged with the power inside Shadow himself, changing him as well.

And it had felt so good to fight. To unleash his strength upon someone who was hurting as much as he was. Someone who understood his pain, someone who wanted revenge as badly as he did. It was normal to want to hurt the person who’d hurt someone you loved.

Because Shadow was tired of living with the pain. He didn’t understand how he could want to hurt others, to get revenge, but at the same time felt wrong for doing so. But he’d hurt someone the blue hedgehog cared for, and if Shadow could have his revenge, then so could the other hedgehog.

But the blue hedgehog wasn’t fighting as fiercely as he should have been. So Shadow had taunted. He’d poked. He’d pushed and eventually gotten the other hedgehog so angry, Shadow had been taken by surprise.

But that was okay. That’s what he wanted. An eye for an eye. A pain for a pain.

He was tired. He was confused. He was hurt, and guilty, and just wanted to stop seeing her face every time he closed his eyes. Didn’t want to hear her voice in the quiet moments. Feel her hands as they gave a gentle tug on his quills, or massaged his ears after a bad batch of testing.

She had been his safe haven on this planet that seemed to want nothing more than to hurt him.

And now she was gone.

And he didn’t know who he was without her. Didn’t know what he was or where he belonged, if not with her.

So he ordered the other hedgehog to end him. Practically begged him.

But he hadn’t. He’d stopped, a look of almost horror on his face as he’d released Shadow.

And they’d talked. And Shadow had found someone else who understood his pain. Felt it, but didn’t let it consume him. Didn’t let it change him.

And this other hedgehog gave Shadow a chance to decide for himself what he would do. Decide what kind of person he wanted to be.

Because that’s what Maria wanted for Shadow. To discover who he was, and who he wanted to be. To find his own place in the world, to be happy.

And so Shadow chose.

He helped the blue hedgehog save the planet, and used the last of his strength to make sure the ARK was far enough away so the final explosion wouldn’t hurt anyone else.

And in those final moments, he thought of Maria, and kept her love for him in his heart.

He acted not out of pain, or out of revenge or anger.

He acted out of love.

~~~

Check out my other Sonic 3 analysis posts

#sonic 3 #sonic 3 spoilers #shadow the hedgehog #sonic the hedgehog

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sunnysidevans · 3 days ago

Text

Casual - L.Howlett

to you things were more, to logan it was only casual.

warnings: 18+, mentions of sexual themes, that's mostly it.

“So, what’s going on between you and (y/n)”

You stop at the mention of your name. Storm is sipping her coffee as Logan gruffs, pouring his own cup. “Nothing, it’s casual” he shrugs as you watch him turn around to face her.

“It doesn’t seem casual” She notes as he shrugs, sipping his piping hot cup of black coffee. “It is” you can’t help but bite back the tears lingering in your waterline, taking a deep breath.

“I missed you so much” his lips are heavy against your own as he backs you through the bedroom door, his hands on your skin, lighting a fire through you. “Missed you” you breath, fingers tangled in his hair as he hoists you up and your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist.

His scruff was an almost enjoyable burn against your skin, the last few days of the mission preventing him from shaving. Your back arched off the sheets as he grins from between your thighs, growling.

The sheets were tangled around your legs, as you drew soft shapes on his chest as he took another drag of his cigar. “Really did miss ya bub” he mumbles around it, fingers twirling a piece of your hair gently. “How was the mission” you adjust against the sheets, chin resting on his peck as he grinned. “A mission” he shrugs looking down at you with a smirk. “How was the mansion?” he questions as you shrug, rolling over onto your back, “the mansion” you smirk.

He smiles, leaning over you, cigar in one hand as he cups your cheek with the other, smirk on his lip. “But it wasn't the same without me huh?” he questions, leaning down to leave a peck on your lips, you find yourself chasing his lips. “Hmm” you question with a smirk as he leans down to your lips again. You can’t help but giggle against his lips, tugging on his bottom lip with a smirk. “Maybe”.

You are quick to move away from the kitchen, “Sorry professor” you mumble, quick to move past him and up the stairs. Charles goes to question you but turns his attention to Logan and Storm. “What is wrong with (y/n)?” he questions as Storm shrugs and Logan gruffs into his coffee, brows furrowed. “I’m not sure” Storm notes, eyes shooting daggers into Logan as she looks back at Charles.

You shut the door quickly, sliding down the backside of it and pulling your knees to your chest.

Casual.

That's all the last few months have been to Logan yet to you it was much more. How could you be so naive into thinking a man like Logan wanted more than casual?

You sniffle, wiping your cheeks with the sleeve of your sweatshirt.

Dusk had fallen over the mansion by the time Logan knocks gently on the bedroom door and pushes his way though, tucked into your bed with your back to him, eyes puffy you ignore his presence.

“Hey sweet girl, I haven’t seen you all day” he whispers, making his way to the bed, climbing in behind you slowly. “I’m not in the mood tonight lo” you whisper, shrugging his hand off your shoulder gently. “Hey” he notices the change in your voice, “what is it?” he asks, sitting up as you shake your head. “Nothing, training with jean just got the best of me today” you lied through your teeth. You knew he would catch on eventually.

“Wondered if I'd find you out here” Logan grins, walking out to the garden of the Mansion where you sat with your book and a blanket. You look up from the book, adjusting your glasses with a smile, eyes falling to the take out bag in his hand.

“Got some time for me?” he questions holding the bag up with a smirk. You nod, patting the spot beside you and holding the blanket up. “C’mon Lo” you smile as he sits down beside you, adjusting the blanket around you. “Oh! Fries!” you squeal, reaching over to grab a crispy fry, munching on it happily. “You know me so well Lo” he grins, eating his own burger, “course I do bub” he smiles over at you and then looks back out at the garden.

This was all your doing, your mutation was to grow and manipulate plants. He enjoyed the comfortable silence.

Logan makes his way down the steps. He left you there tucked into bed but his heart ached. It was not like you to even not want to be in his presence. He notices Jean make her way to the study. “Jeanie” he jogs to catch up with her as she turns to him, smiling.

“Logan” she nods as he tilts his head, “you went a little hard on (y/n) today?” he questions as she furrows her brows. “I didn’t train with her today, I actually hadn’t seen her all day” she notes as he nods slowly. “Why Logan?” he shakes his head with furrowed brows.

“I don’t know” he mumbles, “she seems off” he looks up at her as she shrugs, “maybe she’s home sick” he nods, biting his lip.

You squeal as Logan tosses the bra off your shoulders with a smirk, giggling as you attempt to go and pick it up. He catches your waist, quick to lay you back on the bed with a bounce. “This is staying right here, with me” he whispers, hovering over you, “What?! That’s my favorite bra!” you laugh as he shakes his head, “to bad” he smirks, lips hovering over yours. “Mine now” he connects your lips with a growl. You moan against his, pulling his body closer with your thighs.

Three days you have brushed Logan off. You barely looked his way and he needed to know why. “Jeanie” he grumbles, making his way into her classroom, sulking. “Logan” Scott looks at him from his position against the desk, arms crossed. “Summers” he grumbles with an eye roll as Jean looks at him. “What is it logan?” she questions as he sighs. “Can you read her mind or something?” he questions as she chuckles. “That would be invading her privacy Logan” he sighs, “she won’t even talk to me” he sighs, shaking his head.

“Try again, don’t give up on her” She encourages as he sighs, running a hand over his face and making his way to your room for the fourth day. He knocks and to his surprise you open the door.

“(y/n)” he can’t help hiding his shock. “Logan” you are shocked as well, thinking he caught on by now. “Can I come in?” he asks as you sigh, opening the door for him to make his way through. “Why have you been avoiding me?” he jumps right to the point after the door closes, you sigh and bite your lip. Turning to face him you cross your arms over your chest. “I haven’t been” you state as he shakes his head, “you lied to me and have been avoiding me” he grumbles.

“You don’t have to know everything Logan” you defend as his eyes narrow. “What does that mean? That's how this works” he motions between the two of you.

“I’m just keeping things casual, Logan”.

a/n: this was meant to be a blurb... uh, got a lil longer than that but uh its been in the ol knoggin for a while so here ya go! thank you chappel roan for the inspo !!!!!!

#logan howlet x reader #logan howlett #logan howlett fluff #logan howlett drabble #x men logan howlett #logan wolverine

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sunfallclan · 2 days ago

Text

✧━──────≪✷≫──────━ ✧

I did one with my usual lighting and a regular one

✶⊶⊷⊶⊷❍⊶⊷⊶⊷✶

Eklutna from @loudclan-clangen

Words cannot express how i love this religious lunatic. I genuinely sad she died so soon. She such a nuisance. One of my favourite cats so far

Whorlstar from @splinterclan

I love whorlstar, she deserves a break. especially after recent storyline. i love splinterclan. Honestly my first ever clanblog i read. It inspired me to focus on clancats too

Sparrowlight from @wyrm-clangen

I added him beautiful lashes as a treat.

Wildfirecry from @| loudclan-clangen

I would be honest here I didn't read loud clan fully yet. So this is Wildfirecry from there i stopped reading. He might look outdated but idk yet. And yes, no spoilers shhh

Eddymist from @| wyrm-clangen

It's sad I can't clearly tell much about Sparrowlight and Eddymist, but wow I love their designs so much

But i must say Wyrmclan is the most lively clan i ever read. There is so much happening here, just wow

Glowdapple from @trailblazer-clangen-comic

Just a cute lil kitty. Totally nothing suspicious going on between him and dark forest

✶⊶⊷⊶⊷❍⊶⊷⊶⊷✶

I might just did this challenge so i could yap about clangen blogs and read some of them >:)

God i LOVE clangen blogs

Okay everypony I embraced messy line art. I just can't help myself

Thank you for whoever gave me suggestions for the challange i worried I wouldn't get enough cats to draw but everything worked out phew

Drawing other clan cats was super fun I probably do similar challenge on a moon 10? yeah

#clangen #warrior cats #warrior cats oc #clan generator #art challenge #6 clangen cats challenge #and omg no idea why my art became so much better #probably because i switched devices and finally rested #yeah...#lmao #clangen challenge #6 clangen #other

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4milly · 2 days ago

Note

girl u are FREKAYYYYY. what's life like with bd!zilla? 🙄🙄🙄🙄

i really do imagine he's the type to be so nonchalant about shit tbh. like when you two decided to co-parent your 3 year old son, from that day forth zilla's always put on this act that he never cared about shit you did. you both were single.

nothing new. he did the in the relationship. act like nothing ever mattered. you'd do things to spite him to atleast see if he cared. like doing your hair a different way when you'd drop your son off, wearing a dress too short and posting it to the gram, even sending him thirst traps on "accident".

only to get a dry ass response. barely even that, sometimes he’d just heart the message and move on.

but nothing ever seemed to phase him. you'd catch glimpses sometimes - a fleeting look in his eyes when he thought you weren't paying attention, the way his jaw would tighten ever so slightly when another man's name came up. but he'd always brush it off, act like it was nothing.

one day, you decided to really push it. you showed up to drop off your son wearing that slinky red dress he always loved, the one that hugged every curve. you made sure your makeup was flawless, your hair perfectly curled. as you handed over your giggling toddler, you casually mentioned the date you had lined up for that night.

little did he know, you didn't even have one. you purposely did all this shit so his blood pressure would raise.

for a split second, you saw it - that flash of jealousy, that hint of possessiveness in his dark eyes. but just as quickly, it was gone, replaced by his usual cool indifference. "have fun, babygirl," he said with a wink before focusing on your son

"mama, look pretty?" your son said gleaming towards you

"she does, buddy. so very pretty." he simply stated giving you a once over, stopping at your cleavage.

you felt a shiver run down your spine at his words, at the way his eyes lingered on your body. for a moment, you forgot to breathe. then you caught yourself, plastering on a coy smile. "thanks," you said breezily, "i'm sure my date will think so too."

as you turned to head back to your car , you could feel zilla's eyes on you, burning into your back. you put an extra sway in your hips, knowing exactly how that dress moved when you walked. you heard your son's laughter fade as the door closed behind you.

later that night, after your mediocre date with some guy whose name you could barely remember, you found yourself scrolling through your phone in the bathroom. your thumb hovered over zilla's contact. before you could stop yourself, you fired off a text: "date was a bust. heading home early."

you stared at your phone, waiting for his reply. the minutes that went by were agonizing. just as you were about to toss your phone in your purse, it buzzed.

u wanna come over, mama?

you knew this was a bad idea. you only wanted to spite him — show him you still had it and what he lost. but...damn, you'd be lying if you said you didn't crave to feel that long, girth, samoan dick working inside you, and those hands using your hips bouncing you like a bitch in heat, just like an addict craves their next fix. nonetheless, you responded anyways: be there in 15.

the ride to his place felt endless. second-guessing your decision with every passing streetlight. but when you knocked on the door and saw him standing in the doorway, all doubts vanished. He looked good - too good. his white tank top clung to his muscular frame, and his sweatpants hung low on his hips.

"hey, mama," he said, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down your spine. "come in."

you stepped inside, the familiar scent of his cologne washing over you. the living room was dimly lit. as you stepped inside, the familiar scent of his cologne washing over you, you felt a surge of electricity in the air. the living room was dimly lit, casting long shadows across the walls. soft music played in the background - was that the playlist you used to make love to? baby making music as they say.

zilla closed the door behind you, his presence looming large. you could feel the heat radiating off his body as he moved closer, his scent suffocating you. "you want sum' to drink?" he asked, his voice husky.

you nodded, not trusting yourself to speak. as he walked to the kitchen, your eyes followed the broad expanse of his back, remembering how it felt to dig your nails into those muscles.

He returned with two glasses of red wine - your favorite. As he handed you yours, his fingers brushed against yours, lingering just a moment too long. you took a sip, the rich flavor exploding on your tongue.

you closed your eyes for a brief moment as you glanced over the room, "so where is our little guy?" desperate to break the silence.

zilla almost didn't hear the question, to occupied in looking at your ass in the dress.

"zilla?" you said more firmly to bring his attention back towards you

"my bad, mama. we watched that paw patrol shit he like and he crashed out not too long ago," he responded before taking a sip of his wine "you look good as fuck, y'know that?"

you felt a flush creep up your neck at his words. "thanks," you murmured, taking another sip of wine to steady your nerves.

zilla moved closer, his eyes roaming over you hungrily. "you r'member first time you wore it?" his voice was low, tinged with desire. "that night at the club, when I couldn't keep my hands off you. had to take yo ass home right then."

you nodded, memories flooding back. the way he'd pressed you against the wall as soon as you got through the door, his hands sliding up your thighs, pushing the dress higher, pushing his hand into your panties.

before you could respond, zilla closed the distance between you, his large hand cupping your face. "lemme r'mind you," he growled, before crashing his lips against yours. the kiss was hungry, desperate, filled with years of pent-up longing.

in one fluid motion, he lifted you up, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist. he carried you to the wall, pressing you against it as his lips trailed hot kisses down your neck. your head fell back, a soft moans escaping your lips.

"god, you so fuckin' pretty," he murmured against your skin, his hands roaming your body, reacquainting themselves with every curve. he hitched your dress up higher, his fingers tracing the edge of your lace panties. "these in the way, mama."

with a swift movement, he pushed your panties to the side exposing your wet core, "shit, i missed this pussy. she missed daddy, baby?"

zilla's fingers were replaced by his hard length, rubbing against you. you didn't remember when he got the time to take his dick out his pants, but thank the stars above. you finally were about to get what you've nearly been wishing for and more, "fuck me, zilla. i missed you so much."

he slid into you, filling you up in one long stroke. your eyes rolled back as your body stretched to accommodate him. it had been too long since you'd felt him this way, inside you, claiming you as his own. the way his dick filled you perfectly made your mind go numb. you wrapped an arm around his neck bringing his lips to your owns. you let out a strangled whine as began to stroke, your pussy still getting used to the filling of being so full again.

he started moving slowly, dragging his hips back until you were nearly empty before filling you back up letting you adjust, and repeating the process until the coarse hair at the base of his cock tickled your clit.

"zilla!" you yelped as a particular thrust made him swipe over that special spot inside of you

"shh, shh don't wake him up, mama." he replied throwing a hand over your mouth to keep you moans at bay — careful not to wake your sleeping boy down the hall. "so fuckin' pretty just taking all this dick. I should nut all up in yo pretty ass.”

your moans and screams were muffled into zilla's hand. your eyes rolling towards the back of your head. you were in complete bliss right now. zilla's hips moved with a primal rhythm, each thrust driving you higher up the wall. your dress bunched around your waist, the silky fabric sliding against your skin with every movement. your panties, pushed hastily to the side, were soaked with your arousal — same as the floor beneath you. zilla's thickness stretched and filled you completely, your walls clenching around him, trying to draw him even deeper.

"that's it, mama," he panted, his hips pounding you against the wall. "take this dick. show me how much you missed it."

you arched your back, pressing your chest against his as you sought more friction. zilla's free hand slid down to grip your ass, kneading the flesh as he lifted you slightly, changing the angle. the new position had him hitting your g-spot with every stroke, and you saw stars behind your closed eyelids. you wrapped your legs tighter around his waist, your heels digging into his lower back, urging him on. your nails raked down his muscular back, leaving small rips in his tank top. zilla dipped his head, trailing hot kisses along your collarbone and down to the swell of your breasts.

your breath hitched as your belly started to tighten around his dick. zilla let out a quiet menacing chuckle into your ear, "wassup baby? you wanna cum? keep wettin' this dick up. make that shit spit fa me."

tears pricked your eyes as you shut them tightly. the pressure built up in your stomach and cum dripped down your legs — unable to store all of it in your pussy with his dick pummeling inside of you. zilla groaned, feeling your walls clench around him. "that's it, baby," he praised, his movements becoming erratic as he chased his own release. "fuck, I'm gonna cum. want me to fill you up, mama?"

your eyes were crossed and your head was spent, only focusing on the feeling of cumming all over him and the pleasure radiating through your body.

he let out a groan as he released every drop of his cum into you without thinking twice. his hips stuttering as he followed you over the edge. he gripped your ass, his hips bucking upwards, emptying ropes of his cum deep inside of you—filling you to the brim with his seed. some of it running down his dick, to his legs, and onto the floor. It felt too good to pull out and he wasn’t going to.

as you both came down from your high, zilla slowly removed his hand from your mouth, replacing it with a tender kiss on your bottom lip as you continued to shake and twitch in his arms. the feeling of his warm cum so deep inside you, triggering another mini orgasm. your body continued to convulse as every nerve ending in your body exploded, "yo ass happy you finally got some dick?"

❦:

@caramelcleopatraa @harmshake @msbigredmachine @luvrsluxe @uceyliyahh @angiedawn02 @amandairene88 @cyberdejos2 @queeny23 @empressdede @trentybenty @heauxvibez @whatdoeseverybodywant @shes2real @romansthrone @acknowledge-reigns @southerngirl41 @prettyfilmz @jaza23

don’t forget to like and reblog! <3 drop a comment also! i love reading those. xoxo, cleo.

(think i might make this a series tbh.)

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madridfangirl · 2 days ago

Text

Star crossed lovers (Jude Bellingham fic)

Chapter 18

(Series Link)

Jude * female reader. Mature Language in parts.

Synopsis: A chance encounter in a tiny Madrid cafe with the newest superstar of her fav club. The two couldn't be more different, yet both feel the pull toward the other. Would this girl be the one he finally falls for? Or would life come in the way of these star-crossed lovers?

..........................................................

Ananya woke up the next morning, with Jude holding her close. Still on their sides, facing each other, his arm on her waist and one of his legs resting in between hers. Only difference being he was on the end of his pillow now, not hers.

She sighed & looked at his peaceful resting face, a picture of perfection. His features soft yet sharp. Manly yet boyish. The dichotomy never failed to amaze her. God must truly be proud of this particular creation of his.

He was here. He was really here. Not a figment of her imagination that she had conjured up in her despair yesterday.

Slowly, she traced his cheek with the back of her index finger. Rest of him was just hard muscle, but his face was soft. The skin feeling warm & squishy under her touch. He stirred a little, but his breathing evened again, and she resumed her exploration.

The trim seemed fresh, suiting him perfectly, but it was a tad too fine on the sides. She made a mental note of telling him that.

Her finger slid to his firm, muscly neck, lingering there. Something about his neck always did things to her. His pronounced Adam’s Apple always catching her attention.

She could do this all day, just admire his beauty & soak in his presence. Especially after yesterday, when she had nearly lost it all. Again.

‘Ummm colddd.’

Her hands were somehow always colder than the rest of her body, even under a blanket. Jude often called it a mystery.

Keeping his eyes still firmly shut, he reached for her palm blindly and then put it inside his sweatshirt, on his chest, warming it with his body heat. The gesture turning her into mush. She was about to hug him dearly but Jude being Jude said something wildly unexpected before that.

‘So you touch me often while I sleep?’

She stilled, gaping at him. He peeped one eye open, while rubbing sleep out of the other one. Even half-asleep he was notorious.

‘W-what?’

He scooted closer on the pillow, noses touching, as his lips curved up into a half-smirk.

‘Where all do you touch me?’

‘JUDE.’

‘Can I do it to you too?’

‘Stop right n..’

‘Imagine waking up with my head between your legs, huh? Or my hand? Bet you’d like it.’

‘YOU LITTLE ASS.’

‘Nothing about me is little, darling. You of all people should know it. And definitely not my ass, you love it.’

‘I hate it.’

‘Lies on Christmas? What would Santa say?’

‘Santa would understand, since I have to deal with a demon like you.’

‘Please, you adore me.’

‘Let me go.’

She struggled to get out of his hold but his grip was tight and his booming laugh quickly eroded the fight in her (plus she never actually wanted to get out of his arms, not really), making her giggle too at the silliness of it. The sound was music to his ears.

Jude buried his head in her hair.

‘Merry Christmas Eve, darling.’

His accent was somehow thicker in such moments, each word ringing distinctly in her head.

‘To you too, Jude!’

She knew he had done this to lighten the mood, and she was secretly thankful. Her emotions were still all over the place after yesterday, and were threatening to bubble over any instant.

Ananya turned in his arms, facing him again, and was met with a charming, dashing grin. The boy should just be illegal, head to toe. She couldn’t help herself from reaching over and kissing his cheek.

‘When did you know?’

‘Know what?’

Jude knew very well what she was asking but he loved to play this game with her.

She rolled her eyes loudly and he quit the teasing.

‘Sometime after the dinner with the three of us. I think Jobe said something which I couldn’t stop thinking about, and then one thing led to another. I knew that night.’

‘So without him you won’t have realised?’

‘Sometimes I need help with these things. But honestly, I think I’ve loved you long before. That night just put things in perspective.’

‘Hmm.’

‘Don’t leave me hanging now. Tell me about you, when did you know?’

Flashes of that night came to her mind, when she had nearly blurted it out unknowingly. She told him she didn’t know the exact moment either but that was when she realised. Jude remembered that night. He knew something was off when she had dashed to the washroom like that but could never imagine the reason to be this. Until now.

‘I guess, somehow without me realising, you just clawed your way into my heart.’

‘I’m quite a clawer for what I really want.’

‘Clearly.’

They fell into a comfortable silence, her head lying on his chest, listening to the soothing rhythmic beating of his heart. While his fingers threaded through her hair.

‘I love dove.’

She looked up then.

‘Dove is love. So lovey dovey. Look it all fits. I’m so creative.’

‘You’re so silly is what you are.’

‘Pls, you’re jealous of my genius.’

‘Sure.’

‘Where’s my Christmas present?’

‘It’s….in the works.’

He looked at her suspiciously. But how was she supposed to know things would materialise in this way? She had assumed she would have more time till she saw him again, before her trip to India.

‘Honestly, I didn’t forget. It’s in the works.’

‘Gimme a hint?’

‘In a way it’s similar to yours. In a way.’

‘You’re writing something? Making something?’

‘Yes.’

‘Oh I CAN NOT wait.’

‘Soon, baby.’

‘You’ll beat me, won’t you? It’s gonna be better than mine?’

‘Gosh it’s not a competition. And for the record, nothing could be better than yours. Not in a million years.’

‘Now that you say it..’

He preened a little under her praise and she found even that endearing. God help her!

But something was nagging her, something that she needed to let out.

‘Jude.’

‘Yeah?’

‘I was too harsh yesterday. Some things I said….I’m sorry.’

‘You were angry & hurt. It’s not your fault. Plus you were mostly right.’

‘But still I…maybe shouldn’t have said a few things….I didn’t mean them.’

Her hand gripped his sweatshirt and she sank further into his chest. Jude cupped her face with one hand, while his other hand ran up & down her back.

‘Shhh. It’s ok. Just tell me this - at any point, did you really believe I’d walk out on you like that?’

She took a deep breath. In her attempt to alleviate the pain, she had tried to convince herself of a lot of things. But the answer to his question was clear.

‘No.’

‘And did you know I’d fight for you? Come back for you?’

‘Yes.’

‘That’s it then. That’s all I need - your love & trust. With that, we can get through anything.’

Overwhelmed, she snuggled into him, trying to crawl under his skin to get a load of his warmth and his scent. He held her tight through it.

‘Maybe we should talk about a few things though. Like what you said about my Insta likes.’

‘Now?’

‘Now’s as good a time as any.’

Reluctantly, she nodded, asking him to go on.

‘I thought about what you said. I’d be more mindful going forward. You won’t have any complaints. But if you do, will you please tell me then & there?’

‘Yes. Ok.’

‘It’s your right Ananya. You need to understand that. Believe that. Truly. You have a right over me, like I have a right over you.’

‘I hear you.’

‘Pls be more vocal with me. I need that. I’d love that. I’m not good at reading between the lines, you would have seen that by now. So pls help me there.’

‘I-I’ll try.’

‘Great. One more thing.’

‘What?’

‘Is the 100 Euro threshold still on?’

Ananya had set that as an upper limit for him to get her anything. This was her way to have a middle-ground to still let him get her stuff but nothing expensive.

‘What made you ask that?’

‘Because now we’ve said we love each other. And I wanna spoil you, like I do for the other people I love.’

She looked at him tentatively, and he knew the answer before she said anything.

‘I’d really appreciate it if we could stick to the threshold. For now.’

If Jude was disappointed, he didn’t let it show on his face.

‘Ok.’

‘Did I upset you?’

‘No, it’s fine.’

She reached out to cup his cheek.

‘It’s not about you. Even with my parents, I haven’t taken a cent since I took up this job. And I don’t wanna take anything from them for my MBA also. Both Stanford and Harvard are expensive, but if I do well at work I’d get a full scholarship from my company. That’s why I applied for this team - more work, higher stakes but better incentives. Just trying to make my own way in this world and I am a bit of a stickler for that. And I get that you’re not trying to interfere with that in any form, that this is just your way to express yourself but pls give me some time to get accustomed to it. Also, it’s the gesture that counts right? Not the price tag.’

He turned his face to gaze his lips against her palm.

‘I respect that, really.’

‘Thank you.’

‘I’m glad you are telling me things like these, makes me feel closer to you.’

He had said that last night also. And she had felt it too. Strangely, this had not been an issue in her previous relationship. But somehow, with Jude, she hadn’t been able to communicate as effectively. For no fault of his.

Maybe because she didn’t feel inadequate with her ex. But with Jude, it was another story. Maybe, she should tell him that.

‘I-I saw her yesterday. Her pics.’

Jude sighed. He could already tell how she would have tortured herself in a thousand different ways and where all her mind would have gone.

‘Ok. And?’

‘And - I can’t be like that.’

‘Who’s asking you to be like that?’

‘Won’t you? At some point?’

‘Have I done anything to make you feel that way?’

‘No, but…’

‘But what?’

‘You’re 20 Jude. You may not know what you want.’

‘You’re 20 too.’

‘Yes. But age & maturity work differently in men & women. You said it yourself.’

Jude took a few deep breaths to calm his head before responding.

‘That maybe true. But I know that I want you just the way you are. And that my days of straying are over.’

‘Your friend had a different opinion.’

Jude looked at her with confusion and she referred to the video of his Dortmund friend Gio saying Jude would be the last person he’d want his sister to date, and that there were various reasons for that which he couldn’t get into.

‘Wow, stalking me much?’

She just shrugged.

‘Ananya, that was before us. And it was a joke answer to a hypothetical question.’

‘A joke answer based on some facts?’

Silence for 2 seconds.

‘Yes. But it’s in the past.’

‘Don’t wanna go back to that life? To just have fun?’

‘No. And I do have my fun with you.’

‘What changed?’

‘You. I met you.’

She looked at him with such a mix of earnestness and residual doubt that he felt like his heart would explode in his chest.

Jude kissed her lips for a good 30 seconds, calming both their nerves.

‘Baby, listen to me yeah? The kind of life & women you are talking about, I had that. In abundance. And I thought that would suffice for the next few years. That it would be ‘fun’ for the next few years. Till it's time to settle down. But somewhere along the way I started to get bored. It became just about some initial flirting then sex. And that was it, nothing after that. No conversation, no companionship, nothing. I didn’t even spend the night in the same bed, didn’t want to. There was no one to come home to. No one to talk to after a good day or a bad day. No one to share my thoughts with. No one to take me away from reality when the day-to-day became too heavy. No partner. No confidante. No one to love. No one to spoil. No one to watch a movie with or share a laugh with. No one to anchor me. No one to understand what this game and this club means to me. And I didn’t really know of this void till I met you. Remember how we talked for hours on our first date? I don’t even recollect the last time I had that or even wanted that with anyone. But you - you changed everything. And I know you’d call it cheesy but I kinda just had this feeling about you, from the moment I saw you in that cafe.’

‘It is cheesy.’

‘Such a hater.’

She shrugged. Jude knew she didn’t believe in fairy tales any more but he also had a feeling there was a time when she did. Then it all changed, maybe after her breakup. Since then she had hardened her heart and strived to become more practical. But in time, she’d believe in destiny again. Because he had started to believe in it now, since he met her. It could only be destiny which made his mother suggest that cafe, for him to stop there that day and look out the window. And everything that transpired after that. He was convinced it was written somewhere. It was ironic, because it felt straight out of a movie. And Jude wasn’t particularly fond of these rom-coms (while she loved them wholeheartedly). But the tables had turned and he’d become a believer now.

‘ANYWAY, like I was saying, it all changed with you. I keep repeating it like a broken record, and will probably do that till you actually believe it, that I’m completely obsessed with you. I love every side of you - smart, opinionated, headstrong, feisty, sweet, kind, thoughtful, shy, football fanatic, Madridista. Just everything. Never met anyone like you. You want me for me, not the other things that come with it. Heck you would have liked me a lot more easily had those things not been there. Do you understand how rare that is? I know the feminist in you would scoff at this but most women I’ve met want me for other things. It’s true, don’t look at me like that. And you know what’s the sexiest thing about you? That you actually have no clue how sexy you are. You’re like a sexy little kitten. When you talk on your work calls in words I don’t even understand, it gets me so hot I can’t explain. Many times I’ve considered just grabbing you then & there. Have pictured taking you on your office desk, or on a conference room table, right after a big presentation. Don’t know what witchcraft it is that you’re looking so alluring even in this baggy night-suit. The definition of temptation from the Garden of Eden. Why do you think guys hit on you? Why do you think that lee….that colleague of yours fell for you? Dove, I can’t wait to show you off to people whenever we decide to go public. You’re perfect for me, just as you are.’

Her eyes were lowered, as she clung to him while hearing him profess how desirable he found her in that disarming baritone of his. The colour starting to seep into her cheeks & neck.

Jude sighed loudly, cupping her cheek.

‘I think of this flush when I touch myself.’

She slapped his chest.

‘Shameless boy.’

‘What? Sharing things with my girlfriend is shameless? I’d call that healthy communication. You should try it sometime.’

‘Yeah right.’

‘No seriously. Tell me something about my ass. I know you check it out all the time.’

The confident smirk was on in full force now.

‘You really are a menace.’

‘Thank you.’

He chuckled, the sound & his pretty face making her smile too.

Jude leaned over to kiss her cheek and they snuggled into a comfy embrace again, his big arms engulfing her, neither wanting this moment to end. After a few seconds, curiosity got the better of him.

‘Dove?’

‘Yeah.’

‘You think I’m too possessive?’

‘Where did that come from?’

‘Just something you said yesterday.’

‘I never said that.’

‘Not directly. But felt like you implied it.’

She rose up slightly, leaning on her elbow, looking down at his waiting eyes. His face so open & transparent. In his closed circle, Jude really walked the talk of sharing everything. With him, what you see is what you get. He would just blurt out the most random of things sometimes but no one could call him secretive, not with the people he truly loved.

It made her want to share too. But words were hard to come by. Mostly because that phase of her life she had locked away somewhere in her heart, never to revisit. Never to mull over.

‘I don’t mind it. In fact, I sorta like it. Shows me you care. It’s different from what I’ve…..experienced before.’

Jude knew where this was going, and he patiently waited for her to continue at her own pace. She looked away & chose to share one particular instance to show what she meant.

‘Once, we were in a club in Goa. After our final term got over. We were in a big group but the two of us had separated mid-way. I was waiting for him to get a drink from the bar. A guy came over, quite drunk, and asked me to dance with him. I said no and he walked away, no fuss there. When my boyfriend….ex boyfriend came back I told him this and he wasn’t bothered at all. In fact he was like you could try it out, it was just a dance, just an experience. I didn’t get it at all. Like I can’t explain, it wasn’t a big thing, not like he did something major but it just made me feel a little less wanted.’

She turned to look at him, he was still listening to her intently.

‘I know you would never do that.’

‘Never.’

He responded without missing a beat. She smiled.

‘I know, and I like that.’

‘Well, I’m glad. Coz I don’t know how to be any different when it comes to you.’

She stroked his cheek softly.

‘You don’t need to be.’

He covered her hand with his, holding it there.

‘If you don’t mind, what happened there? With him?’

Her face dropped, and she buried her face into his neck, fingers playing with the fabric of his sweatshirt.

‘You don’t have to tell me, but tell someone. It feels like it’s weighing on you, and the weight will only grow with time.’

Jude was right. She hadn’t really talked about it in detail even with her close friends back home. Not even her cousin. The official line she had used was that they grew apart, not much beyond that. Locking it away seemed like the best choice at the time, because the separation made her weak and desperate and she hated to be in that state. Hated seeing herself like that. She never revisited it later because what if thinking about that made her weak again? It was much easier to just zone out of it. But that wasn’t particularly healthy. She was surprised though that Jude had caught on to that.

‘Listening to me talk about my ex is not weird for you?’

‘I want you to talk to me about anything you feel. Wanna be your friend too.’

‘Hmm.’

She considered that for a bit, while he gently ran his fingers through her hair. Somewhere along the way she started talking.

‘We always knew we were very different in personalities. And after a point it started bothering him, though in the beginning he always told me we’d find a mid-way. Honestly, I didn’t do enough to find a mid-way too, it was my fault as well, but at least I tried. After a point, when he thought it was too hard, he stopped trying. He loved me a lot, not denying that, but it came down crashing very quickly when he checked out mentally. Which is why he got over it quickly too, he’s very practical that way. Always told me to never get too attached to anyone and never have too many expectations. I was not his first love, he had his heart broken by his high-school crush, which made him practical. But he was my first love, my first in everything, and I fell head over heels. He told me many times to not make my life all about him, and he was right there, it’s not good for either party. But I understood all that a lot later, when he was at a point of no return. He never really looked back, and it was hard for me to handle. So I cut off from him and that set of friends completely. It was easier to not see him at all than to see him completely alright. When I was nowhere close to it. This was in April. I haven’t seen him or spoken to him since then. He’s not on socials so that makes it easier to cut off too. This wedding I’m going for would be the first time I see him in months. ’

It was all starting to make sense to Jude. Why she was the way she was and why she tried so hard to keep her guard up.

That he was going to be at the wedding was not news to Jude, Ananya had told him well in advance. And it didn’t bother him. Well, mostly it didn’t bother him.

‘I’m sorry you had to go through this.’

‘Hmm.’

‘Look at me.’

He tilted her chin to look into her moist eyes.

‘What did I say about tears?’

She wiped her eyes with the back of her arm.

‘Sorry.’

‘Baby - I’m sorry you had to go through this. But without that, you wouldn’t have come to Madrid and would never have met me.’

‘Yeah.’

‘It’s meant to be, I’m telling you.’

‘When did you become so cheesy?’

‘Your fault. You are doing things to me I don’t understand.’

‘Oh Jude.’

She turned to find his lips, kissing him dearly. He kissed back with equal fervour, flipping them to get on top of her.

The kiss became heated in no time and she knew where it would go if she didn’t stop him. So she rolled out from underneath him, leaving him high & dry, scooting away to the edge of the bed.

‘Excuse me?’

‘Excused.’

‘Thought we were having a moment there?’

‘We were. Then it ended.’

‘Thought I was punished enough yesterday. Clearly not.’

‘Told you I need some time.’

‘Fine.’

He sulked, tucking his arm under his head, watching her tidy up the room a bit.

‘Jude, you need to leave now.’

‘So you’re kicking me out also? Boy you’re cruel.’

‘It’s Christmas Eve. You need to be home. Now get up & leave. You promised.’

‘I said afternoon. It’s 11 am right now.’

‘Fine. Then go take a shower in Roma’s room, I’ll take one here & make some breakfast and then you will leave.’

‘Can I take a shower with you?’

She crossed her arms.

‘What do you think?’

He tried a different strategy.

‘Can I draw you a bath?’

She narrowed her eyes at him.

‘I’m good at those. Honest.’

‘Fine.’

He jumped up from the bed like a toddler who had been told he could skip school today, and headed straight to her washroom, banishing her from coming inside till he called her in.

When he did call her in, the place had turned into a mess but the bath-tub sure looked inviting, bubbles foaming well above it.

‘Thank you.’

‘I’ll help you get in.’

‘Didn’t know I needed help with that.’

‘Floor is wet. You need help.’

Amused, she decided to play along.

‘Fine.’

She tied her hair in a bun & took off her clothes. And Jude tried really hard to keep his eyes on her face. Really hard.

He extended his hand to her which she took, and he carefully guided her inside the tub. She hummed while sitting down, the hot bubbly water providing instant soothing.

‘Thank you Jude, this is lovely.’

‘I could help wash you with the loofah.’

She smiled. It was glaringly obvious what he was trying to do but it was cute as well.

‘Fine.’

He smiled wholeheartedly. And for a second she forgot what game he was playing.

Jude fetched the loofah and started with her arms, running it softly over her skin. She moaned a little, which was not helpful for his nether regions. He went to her legs and she moaned harder. Jude wondered if she was doing it on purpose to torment him but her eyes were shut and her face looked so innocent it couldn’t be so.

Somehow, he carried on and moved to her back, but the angle was restrictive.

‘I could do it better if I’m inside.’

‘You wanna join me in the tub?’

‘Just to help wash you.’

‘Sure.’

Jude took off his clothes then, and she had to look away to not break her resolve. It didn’t help though, coz when he sat down he pulled her back to his front, and it was hard, so hard to remain unaffected.

He continued the charade & rubbed the wet object down her front, paying special attention to her chest. She threw her head back & moaned, which made him groan too.

‘A little mercy here?’

‘This is your doing.’

Defeated, he carried on. The object tickled her tummy & she giggled a little. But the giggles died in her throat when he moved to her thighs. His actions slow & deliberate. Measured.

‘Ju-de.’

‘Yeah baby? Want something?’

She whimpered as his hands continued going lower down her thighs, till the very apex of them. There, he stopped.

‘Don’t think this can go here, right?

‘Ermm no.’

‘Gonna have to use something else then?’

‘Y-yes.’

He threw the loofah away. And prodded at her sensitive folds with his long, strong fingers, pushing one inside her.

She shuddered & fell back against him, and his other arm came around her waist to support her.

‘Why deny yourself? Why not take what you want?’

He whispered in her ear. Despite being in hot water, her whole skin tingled with goosebumps.

The way his finger was filling her up made her head swirl. Her own touch wasn’t good enough anymore, since she had met him. It did nothing for her; her body ached for him whenever she had tried to tend to it last week. And now he was here. Offering to please her. How could she resist?

‘Yes? Say yes, baby.’

He punctuated that with perfectly timed thrusts of his finger, adding another one in, making it impossible to say no.

‘I love you.’

He cooed behind her. The words which were her ruin. Her undoing.

‘YES. God yes.’

‘Such a good girl. Gonna take care of you now.’

His fingers moved gloriously inside her. Doing all kind of things to her insides. When he added his thumb to massage her sensitive spot, she shuddered violently and water fell from the sides of the bathtub, making him smile.

She needed more of him. Craved more of him.

‘Ju-de.’

‘Turn around. Hold my arm.’

He guided her carefully to turn and sit in his lap, bending her legs at her knees. She looked like a goddess, a wet naked Greek water goddess.

‘Come here you.’

He grabbed the side of her face and pulled her in for a deep kiss, plunging straight in, pouring all his longing into it. She whimpered & tried to hold his arms or the side of the tub but it was all slippery & she couldn’t find an anchor.

The bubbles were hiding her from him. It was a travesty. Jude picked them up in his palms & started throwing them out of the tub, making more of a mess on the floor than it already was. She wanted to protest but his eagerness was endearing. When he had cleared them enough and her torso was visible, he went for her neck & chest, biting & sucking with abandon. Her soft moans filled the room, he revelled in those sounds.

His large palms cupped her butt, kneading them with force, lifting them to lower her gradually on his length. The angle made her feel him deep inside, and she gasped all the way through.

After going in fully, he gave her time to adjust. She panted a little, trying to find the right slot for her legs to find some balance. The cramped space & his large body not giving her much room. After adjusting to the heavy intrusion, she finally looked at his stunning face. Droplets fell off his sharp jaw sultrily, putting her in a trance. If there was something more erotic than naked Jude, it was naked Jude wet. She leaned over to steal a kiss of her own, going for his cheeks first, then the tip of his nose, then finally his lips.

‘My prince.’

She whispered softly, and he preened under her nickname.

Feeling emboldened, she leaned in again but this time she bit his cheekbones instead, followed by the tip of his nose. He chuckled, and did the same to her, ending with little bites on her bottom lip.

Her hand traced his torso, starting with his muscly neck, moving to his chest hair, then his six-packs and finally his happy trail. The touch sending sparks through both of them.

‘I can’t wait anymore.’

‘Who’s asking you to.’

With another quick kiss, he grabbed her hips and started moving her on top of him. The angle hitting all the right spots deep inside. He quickly found THE spot & made a beeline for it. She shuddered & mewled & thrashed against him but he didn’t relent, making her peak shortly after. The speed & intensity with which her pleasure was wrung out of her left her completely breathless & spent. But he wasn’t done yet. He kept moving her like a rag doll, stimulating her excessively, till he filled her up with shots after shots of his pleasure. Her clenching muscles squeezing him of every last drop.

She fell forward on his chest, and he held her like a precious flower, rubbing her back softly, pressing kisses to the top of her head.

‘That was….it was…’

‘Amazing? Breath-taking? Out of this world?’

He grinned against her forehead. Her hand reached up to caress his cheek.

‘Yes. Because you are all of those things.’

‘Look at you, being mushy in love.’

She met his playful eyes then.

‘You’re doing things to me I don’t understand either.’

‘Why thank you.’

‘You’re also incredibly silly and say the most inappropriate things at the most inappropriate times to completely kill the moment.’

‘But you still love me.’

‘Sadly, I do.’

It was getting late. She had to be the adult here. Grudgingly, she got out of his arms and out of the tub, leaving him behind to clean the mess while she made them some breakfast.

Jude entered the kitchen 10 mins later with water still dripping from his hair. She shooed him out, admonishing him for making a mess of the whole apartment.

Mumbling under his breath as to how she was so mean to him at times, Jude fixed his hair & the floor. Then plopped on the couch, one leg resting on the back of it.

He perked up when she emerged from the kitchen with two plates of French toast, a favourite for both of them. Jude pulled her next to him, and they ate side by side.

It was time. To leave.

‘Call Agnes. You’re going to the airport now.’

‘One more hour.’

‘JUDE.’

‘What? Why are you so eager to see me gone?’

He cried out, almost sounding hurt.

She moved to sit in his lap, and cradled his cheeks in her palms.

‘Baby - it’s Christmas Eve. I know how much you love this time. I know that your family is the most important thing in the world for you. I can’t be the reason to separate you from home right now. I can’t have that on me.’

‘You’re important too.’

He said that matter of factly and she wanted to cry out of love again.

‘I know. But please, you can go now. I’ll be fine. You don’t have to stay back for me. I know that’s what’s holding you back, but really I’m fine now.’

Jude wasn’t sold. He knew she was still raw & overwhelmed from yesterday. He didn’t want her sitting alone & her mind going places. Her flight was day after tomorrow, she still had two more days here.

‘What about your other friends? Work friends? They don’t have any plans around this time?’

‘They do..but..’

‘But what?’

She looked up at him, not wanting to say it. But he understood.

‘But he’s gonna be there.’

‘Yeah.’

Jude covered his face with his hands, sighing audibly. It was a rock & a hard place kinda scenario. But her staying alone was not an option.

‘I’ve said no.’

‘What’s the plan?’

‘What?’

‘What’s their plan?’

‘Umm they leave this evening for a cabin on the countryside, a 2 hour drive. Spend tonight & Christmas Day tomorrow there, then return in the evening.’

‘How many people?’

She looked at him oddly, unsure why he was even asking this.

‘5 of them, including him. 1 couple, one other girl, and 2 guys.’

‘What’s the sleeping situation gonna be?’

She rolled her eyes.

‘3 bedrooms. They offered to have me in with the other girl.’

‘Who called you for this?’

She rolled her eyes loudly again. As if Arjun would call her to invite her, after how awkward things had been between them.

‘Anna - the other girl.’

Jude covered his head with his hands again. Trying to reach a decision, while she sat confused.

‘Go.’

‘What?’

‘You’re going.’

‘No I’m not.’

‘I don’t have a problem with this.’

‘Tell that to your face.’

‘Ok I do have a big problem with this. But I can’t have you here alone. So you’re going. Call them & confirm now.’

‘Jude - I don’t want any drama. It’s not worth it.’

‘I’ll behave myself, promise. Just don’t…don’t tell me anything about it. About him. Unless something major happens, I don’t wanna know anything. I’ll just pretend he’s not there.’

She looked at him incredulously.

‘You? You’re saying you don’t wanna know about him?’

‘Yes I’m making an exception. Look, anyone else I can handle, but that….that creature…I…’

‘You hate him. I know.’

‘Understatement of the century. But yeah.’

‘Jude, I don’t have to go. It’s not worth it.’

‘You’re either coming home with me or going with them. Pick.’

He didn’t leave her with any option. Going home with him she’d never pick, it was too soon, especially after all the drama that had just transpired. She was mortified enough that her parents got to know about them this way.

‘Fine.’

‘Message them now. I wanna see it.’

‘And I’m the Hitler?’

‘Mostly yes.’

She sent the message, received a quick excited confirmation then shoved the screen in his face.

‘Happy?’

‘Yes.’

‘I’m telling you now itself it’s not a good idea.’

‘The alternative is worse.’

‘Gosh you’re stubborn.’

‘Look who’s talking.’

‘Ok. Time to go now. Move.’

‘Wait. I just did this immensely mature thing and I don’t get a reward?’

His fingers started caressing up her sides, from where she was sitting in his lap.

‘You’ll get one when we meet next.’

‘Too far out. How about a quick one now?’

‘There’s nothing quick with you.’

‘We can try.’

His grip tightened on her sides as he leaned in towards her chest. She had to stop this now, else he won’t leave for a long time.

Summoning all her will, she batted his hands away and stepped out of his lap.

‘Seriously?’

‘Yes. LEAVE.’

‘My girlfriend leaves me high & dry, then kicks me out ON CHRISTMAS, after I’ve told her I LOVE HER?’

She cocked her head at him. He’d put a toddler to shame with all his histrionics.

‘Enough with this emotional blackmail. Now pick up your things & leave. I’m calling Agnes.’

She followed through and called Agnes the next second. Muttering under his breath, he stood up, went to the bedroom to get his things, then dragged himself back out, shoulders slumped.

Before he was about to open the door, she held his hand, stood on her tiptoes and pulled him down for a soft kiss.

‘I’ll make it up to you, promise.’

‘I’ll hold you to it.’

‘I know you will.’

She kissed him again, and his spare arm wrapped around her waist.

‘Jude, I love you, so so much.’

‘Love you too, my little dove.’

‘Call me after you reach home.’

‘Will do. And text me all the time you are there.’

‘Will do.’

‘And if anything major happens…’

‘Yes I will call you immediately.’

‘I don’t wanna go.’

‘I know. But you have to. And we’ll meet soon. Bye baby.’

‘Bye, darling.’

…………………………………………………………………….

There you go :)

Am still a bit unwell but didn't want to keep you guys waiting anymore. 6.3k words, phew!

2 more chapters to go till the end of the story.

As always, would love to hear your comments / thoughts / messages. That you for all the love to Jude & Ananya!

#jude bellingham #real madrid #bellingham #jude #jb5 #jb #jude bellingham smut #jude fanfic #bellingham x reader #star crossed lovers #jude bellingham fic #jude bellingham imagine #jude bellingham one shot #jude bellingham blurb #desi girl #jude bellingham angst #jude fic #jobe bellingham

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