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artsy-trash-panda · 1 year ago

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Laces for a Lady - 18th century, poly, shifters x human romance - Chapter Seven (sfw)

Disclaimer which I’m including in all my works after plagiarism and theft has taken place: I do not give my consent for my works to be used, copied, published, or posted anywhere. They are copyrighted and belong to me.

Contents: some passing comments comparing two different female body types in a negative way, and some measurement taking and a dress fitting that leaves Nel a little breathless. Who knew Mr. Nancarrow had it in him to be so smooth. Mr. Darcy hand-flex fans, be warned...

Wordcount: 3931

Catch up here: Part One (sfw), Part Two (sfw), Part Three (sfw), Part Four (sfw), Part Five (sfw), Part Six (sfw)

Edmund flushed at Nel’s boldly obvious compliment, but was saved any further embarrassment by Mr. Fordyce announcing that it was Nel’s turn, and that he would have to take Nel’s measurements since he didn’t have them in his records as he did Winnie’s.

This time it was Nel whose face turned hot, but she met Edmund’s gaze again as he stepped forwards, rested his cane against the nearby table gently enough not to cause the arrangement of dried flowers in the centre even to quiver, and then he carefully passed the ribbon of paper around her waist. He kept his eyes down, but his long, delicate fingers moved with nimble grace as he held the paper and snipped the tailor’s marks in it which would correspond to the various locations of the measurements.

“And now inhale,” he murmured, and she obliged, letting her ribs inflate naturally. She could feel his knuckles pressing ever so slightly against her body through the fabric of the thinner, less structured dress she’d chosen for that day, and she tried not to shiver.

They had begun at her waist, but a moment later she found herself scowling at Mr. Fordyce when he made Edmund kneel down on the hard wooden floorboards to measure the length of her leg.

Edmund got down alright, if stiffly, but he gasped and sucked in a sharp breath as he pushed himself upright with his cane, and he went rigid with another sudden inhale, eyes screwed shut and head bowed forwards as he breathed through a stab of pain. For a lurching moment when he raised his head again she thought he was going to pass out as all the colour drained from his face.

Clearly mortified, he looked like he was going to struggle through it despite the fact that he seemed to have been robbed of his faculties for a moment, but Nel abruptly turned to Mr. Fordyce and made a calculated assumption about the egotistical, self-important little man. "It must be such work for you to keep up with constantly changing fashions when you’re so far from Town here in Polgarrack," Nel said, and Mr. Fordyce immediately puffed up like a show pigeon under scrutiny, and graced her with a condescending smile.

"Oh, indeed, Miss Bywater, it is certainly not without its challenges. But!” he went on, brandishing his forefinger in the air as if lecturing a small and rather resentful child, “A successful tailor must be a true artist, and he must find something new and extraordinary at every turn for his patrons. So, I do make frequent journeys to Town to make my observations. That way, you see, the nobility situated further from Town are still provided with the very latest in taste and elegance without the inconvenience of a journey so long and arduous."

He pursed his wet lips and then went on while Edmund's face was a blank, porcelain mask of pain beside her, his shoulders turned slightly to hide his face from Mr. Fordyce who was currently standing perched on a small footstool near the window for a vantage point to ‘better view the proportions of the lady for whom he would have to work a miracle’. Or so he claimed. Nel just thought he felt short and didn't like pontificating at someone who was taller than him, even if only by an inch or two.

She tried not to let her face show her distaste at the master tailor’s outrageously overblown opinion of himself, but in this case, it was buying Edmund time to recover. “What a sacrifice you make for your art,” she said flatly, and he missed the sarcasm entirely.

"Indeed. A tailor ought to have a quick eye; to steal the very cut of a sleeve in passing at the merest of glances, Miss Bywater,” he intoned in an almost sing-song voice, conspiratorially leaning a little closer from his little footstool. She hoped he toppled off it. “Any common bungler may cut out a shape when he has the pattern on the table before him, but a good workman will take it by his eye in the merest passing of a carriage…" He flourished his hand as if he’d magicked something spectacular into existence at that very moment. All she saw was spittle and hot air.

"Extraordinary indeed," she said blandly, studiously keeping her eyes off Mr. Nancarrow while trying to gauge whether it was necessary to indulge Mr. Fordyce's nauseating pomposity any further. He still looked like he might appreciate a few minutes more, so she pulled out a rather higher card from her metaphorical hand. "You must truly be a master of your craft then, Mr. Fordyce, if the rose-petal gown you made for Lady Penrose's birthday in August is anything to judge. Truly, I had never seen its like before, not even when I attended the Russells’ Christmas Ball with Lord and Lady Mercer and their son last year in London." She wondered if she’d taken her flattery a step too far with that last, but he drank it up like sweet summer wine.

His watery eyes lit up at the mention of Lord and Lady Russell’s exclusive gathering, and, as she had suspected, Nel rose just a fraction in his estimation by mentioning such connections. Not that she gave a single one of Old Flint’s trumpeting farts what this man thought of her and her station in Society, but it was buying Edmund time, and he seemed to be breathing a little easier now.

"Oh," Fordyce said in a different voice, simpering just a little. “The… The Russells’ Christmas Ball? And… Lord and Lady Mercer you say?” His eyes practically glinted. “Their young son is a most eligible bachelor, I believe,” he said, apparently unaware of the impudence of such a comment. “And you were with them in Town?”

She nodded. “They’re close family friends.” Never mind that said eligible bachelor had spent the majority of that particular night scandalously secreted away in an upstairs bedroom with an Admiral’s nephew when he’d promised to dance with Nel instead. The cad, she thought with a fond and barely-disguised smile. She knew William would get a good laugh out of hearing all about the ridiculous Mr. Fordyce, and she made a note to herself to include an account of this exchange in the letter she’d intended to pen to him that afternoon.

"Yes, well, the gown I made for Lady Penrose’s birthday is one of my finer pieces, I’ll admit,” Mr. Fordyce blustered, returning to her original compliment. “Perhaps a little too fine for someone of your particular… stature," he added with a vague gesture at her figure, and she bit back a sudden, wild urge to laugh indecorously. "The young Lady Penrose does have such exceptionally delicate wrists, after all," he said, and consulted his notes rather ostentatiously and unnecessarily in order to add, "And such a minuscule waist. Still, a tailor such as I must be able to cut out not only for the handsome and well shaped, but to bestow a good shape where nature has not designed it quite so to suit the fashions of the day."

If Nel hadn't been keeping half an eye on Edmund, who now looked far more horrified by his master's words than by his own physical discomfort, she might have taken offence, but what a conceited little man like Fordyce thought of the proportions of her waist was of relatively little importance to her in the grander scheme of things. If Will had been in the room, she’d have met his eye and the two would have dissolved into uncontrollable hysterics.

All that mattered now though was that her plan to distract the master tailor for a time had worked. Stoking the already puffed-up man’s ego had kept him occupied long enough that whatever pain had been exacerbated by being forced to bend Edmund’s bad knee to the hard floorboards had dissipated back to something more manageable, and a minute later, he very lightly touched Nel at her elbow as he moved around her on the pretence of taking another measurement.

‘Thank you’, he mouthed, blinking rapidly and barely meeting her gaze. He was still the colour of fresh parchment, but he was no longer clenching his teeth like he thought he might be sick. She hoped she hadn’t embarrassed him by acting so presumptuously.

“Forgive me, Mr. Fordyce,” she smiled sweetly to the older man. “I do believe I interrupted the proceedings with my questions.”

“Oh, yes,” the man chirped, blinking like an owl surprised by the arrival of daylight. He’d clearly not noticed at all. “Yes. Well, if you could hold out your arms while Mr. Nancarrow passes the tape around your chest.”

Her heart skipped a beat at that, and while Edmund was methodical and nothing but proper, he did let his dark eyes flick briefly to her face as he closed the tape snugly around her breasts. Her breath caught. Beneath the fabric of her dress, she felt her nipples tighten and she licked her lower lip just a little, sinking her teeth in before resuming a perfectly blank expression. Never in her life had she been touched like that by a man. Her previous mantua maker in Sussex had been a woman after all, as would have been the case here, had Winnie’s not recently relocated.

If Edmund’s gaze had dropped to her mouth for the briefest of moments, she pretended not to have noticed, nor to wonder what it might mean, if anything.

“Inhale again,” Edmund said in a low, sweet voice, his eyes flicking fleetingly back up to her eyes.

Slowly, she obliged and felt the paper tape stretch taut against her bodice as her breasts lifted with her breath. She felt the tension go out of the line as he let the paper slide between his fingertips to measure the slack. All the while, his hands remained steady as a surgeon’s, and she tried not to stare at the elegance of his long fingers where they held the paper securely against her chest in order to snip more little cuts in the paper to mark the dimensions.

“Exhale,” he whispered, and she did, shakily. “Thank you, Miss Bywater.”

“Nel,” she whispered back, but he only inclined his head in a way that said he could, regrettably, never call her something so familiar in such a charged setting. She didn’t know whether to be flattered or frustrated, and found herself oscillating between the two.

Then the moment ended and she almost swayed.

Edmund stepped back, dropped his eyes, and crossed the room to hand Mr. Fordyce the tape. Its coded marks at various lengths indicated that the full set of measurements had been taken, and that the appointment was drawing to a close.

Mr. Fordyce let his eyes flick along the length of it — no doubt noting all the places where her circumference was less elegant than Winnie’s — and folded it carefully up into an envelope. “My thanks, Miss Bywater. I think we can make something with that. Come, Mr. Nancarrow. We must leave these elegant ladies in peace to begin our work.”

Winnie, who had been sitting quietly in the corner of the room the whole time and pretending to work on her embroidery, rose gracefully and thanked Mr. Fordyce with just a little hint of frost in her usually sweet tone, and said that she looked forward to seeing their creations soon.

“I shall work on your dress personally,” Mr. Fordyce said as he bowed over Winnie’s hand. Nel thought that, given half the chance, he might just slobber all over it for the honour of sampling her ‘delicate wrists’ again, and shuddered. Winnie withdrew her hand almost immediately.

The way he had worded his comment though made Nel wonder if that meant that Edmund was going to make her dress, and her eyes darted questioningly to him.

He was watching her, and one corner of his lips lifted.

That was all, but in that moment, she knew it would be the case. His hands would have touched every inch of the dress she would wear to the ball in Plymouth, and her heart skipped and soared as if she would feel the ghost of his touch when she wore the dress itself. In a way, he would be closer to her that night than any man would even if she danced with them, because the fabric would rest against her very skin. Well, against her chemise and stays, but still, it was closer than any other man would get. Her core heated at the thought and she hoped her face didn’t betray her as the gentlemen bowed and left.

In the silence of their departure, Winnie arched an eyebrow at Nel. “Well, that was an interesting morning,” she said.

“Indeed,” Nel replied carefully.

“Since the ball is only a couple of months away, you must learn to dance properly,” Winnie added as she crossed to the window and watched their small carriage draw away from the front of the house. The shapes were made a dark blur by the rain. “I’ll teach you myself.”

“And what if I have no intention of dancing?”

Her chest still felt tight and her lungs seemed full of sea foam after Edmund had touched her, and imagined she could feel the warmth of his hands lingering through the fabric of her dress. It was most distracting.

“And I do know how to dance,” she added petulantly as she flopped into the other chair by the fire and picked up her own embroidery hoop, scowling at the wonky patterns on it. Had that been a strawberry or a carrot she’d been working on? “It was the local dances at the harvest celebrations that left me stumped. I can dance a passable minuet or quadrille as well as the next country gentleman’s daughter. I just choose not to.”

“You cannot sit the whole ball out and refuse to dance,” Winnie groaned, turning back to face her. “You’ll draw attention to yourself.” And, by extension, she might embarrass the Lady Winnifred Penrose.

“I’ll draw more attention to myself by dancing,” Nel said with a sullen expression as she began to pick rather savagely at her lumpy embroidery with a tiny pair of scissors. Lord, what if Edmund had happened to see it? He’d have thought it was the work of a small child with a knitting needle and ball of garden twine. “It’ll be like watching a bear in a skirt,” she muttered glumly.

Winnie snorted an extremely undignified laugh into her hand, and the two women promptly dissolved into giggles. “I’ll remind you of that when we’re at the ball,” Winnie snickered.

“Oh you’d better not,” Nel groaned. “If I get the giggles in public, it’s uncontrollable, and it’s even worse when it’s a formal setting.”

“You managed fairly well at the Lammas Dance when Old Flint did his best to reduce everyone to hysterics.”

That just brought back memories of meeting Edmund’s dark eyes again, and the feel of Locryn’s huge, rough palms against hers, and clamping around her waist, lifting her high and laughing in his rich, gruff bass as he turned her, and then of her crushing idiocy in almost letting herself kiss the man in public and in front of his lover. No matter that Edmund had said all was forgiven and forgotten; she would never erase that night from her mind.

When the gowns had been made, Mr. Fordyce returned with Edmund for a final fitting in late November, and Nel tried to ignore the odd fluttering in her stomach at the thought of Mr. Nancarrow seeing her in something that was not only a lot finer than her usual redingote dresses, but in something which he himself had made to fit her body.

As Winnie’s maid helped her into it upstairs, while Winnie was downstairs having any final alterations noted, Nel silently scolded herself. ‘Edmund Nancarrow is not going to look at you with even the faintest whiff of interest beyond that of a professional tailor doing his job. Mr. Nancarrow, like Will, is only interested in men’. The memory of the heat in his eyes made her assertions fracture and crumble like fragile cliffs into the insistent sea below. Mr. Nancarrow was probably not only interested in men, but she could tell herself that for the time being all the same.

With her expression set in a rather sour grimace, she thanked Liddy and walked towards the staircase which would lead her down to the drawing room.

The dress was really lovely, and although it wasn’t nearly as complicated and showy as Winnifred's, it had its own elegance and richness that Nel loved more than Winnie’s. The fabric was a warm, green silk damask that shone in the light like a cut and polished emerald, with peonies and curled leaves and fruits shimmering subtly like frost on a windowpane. The sleeves ended just below her elbow in a soft spray of intricate white lace, and there was a small trim of lace around the low, square neckline that was so delicate and fine, it reminded her of the patterns of sparkling sea foam on the sand. The bodice snugged in around the waist, and fastened almost invisibly up the front in a series of minuscule, gold hooks and eyes, while the skirts fell away in a fountain of heavy, forest green fabric to the floor. It would be finished with a delicate, muslin scarf around her shoulders, secured with a silk peony. There were even matching shoes, which were surprisingly easy on the feet, even if the heel was a little higher than those she was used to.

Nel actually felt comfortable in herself as she moved about in it, which she rarely did when dressing up for dances, and she tried to draw on that confidence as she descended the stairs carefully, one hand on the bannister in case she stumbled.

She met Winnie just coming out from her fitting, wearing her own, cream and peach confection which she somehow managed to make look spectacular. Nel was sure that she would have looked like an upturned peach cobbler if she’d put that on.

Her friend paused in the doorway when she saw her and gasped. “Nel!” she cried out. “Oh you look beautiful. The fit is perfect! And that colour! Why, I declare that the all gentry of Wessex will be prostrating themselves at your feet!”

Nel shook her head with a little blush, a dark curl escaping from the tight arrangement pinned at the back of her head above the collar and out of the way of the tailors’ fingers, and she continued down the stairs.

“Lady Winnifred,” came Mr. Nancarrow’s warm tenor from the other side of the doorway into the drawing room. “Forgive me, but you dropped —”

He stepped across the threshold and into sight, holding a muslin kerchief between the slender fingers of his right hand, but he looked over to his left and caught sight of Nel on the staircase.

The kerchief fluttered forgotten to the floorboards.

His lips parted and she watched him inhale slowly.

No, Mr. Nancarrow was most definitely not only interested in men.

There was no way Nel could still try to believe it after seeing that expression on his face, and she tried to hide a smile.

Winnie turned to glance at him and artfully hid her own little smile before dropping easily to retrieve the abandoned kerchief. She rose and leaned fleetingly in to whisper something in Mr. Nancarrow’s ear before flitting back towards the foot of the stairs just as Nel reached the last step.

Edmund immediately turned red from his collar to his ears, and swallowed visibly. He shot Nel one last glance and ducked back into the drawing room without a word.

Nel raised an eyebrow. “What did you say to him?”

Winnie just squeezed her shoulder. “Prostrating,” she whispered with feeling, and flitted away upstairs like one of the Fair Folk.

When Nel entered the drawing room, Edmund was standing beside Mr. Fordyce with his eyes on the floor and a lingering warmth to his face, but as she crossed to them and Mr. Fordyce declared that the creation was truly a triumph, Mr. Nancarrow raised his dark eyes at last and offered her a very small smile and a single, slow nod.

That one, gentle expression from him was more affirmation than any amount of twittering drivel from Mr. Fordyce as he paced around her and appraised her like an expensive piece of Wedgewood pottery on a plinth.

She watched Edmund take a step away from Mr. Fordyce as the man trotted around behind her and then went back towards the window to leave Edmund to make any adjustments, since he had been the one to make the dress and not Fordyce himself.

Edmund’s dark cane made a now-familiar clunk on the floorboards, and it sounded unusually loud to her while all the other sounds in the room seemed to fade.

“If I may?” he said to her in a soft undertone while the master tailor paced about near the window, utterly absorbed in the sound of his own voice. Nel had no idea what he was saying or if it was even addressed to her.

Edmund’s dark gaze had snagged momentarily at a piece of lace trim around the neck of her gown and he gestured towards it.

She glanced down and saw the problem, and then nodded.

“Of course,” she whispered, tilting her head a little in the opposite direction. It exposed her throat and collarbones, and gave him all the access he would need to free the lace from where it was folded over on itself. Her heart was beating like a trapped bird in her throat and she was sure that Edmund would see it thudding frantically against her skin.

And while Fordyce blathered on to his own reflection in the window about the fact that the cut of the dress and the padding were more important than the underlying body, and how his assistant had clearly understood this when making the patterns for the dress from Nel’s measurements, Edmund slid his fingertips carefully against the exposed skin of her chest.

Goosebumps prickled to life in their trailing wake.

Her breath hitched and she tried not to gasp.

Gently, he withdrew the tiny fold of lace that had been tucked under between the neckline of her bodice and her skin, and smoothed it flat again with his fingertips.

Nel exhaled shakily, angled a little away from him. If she’d had to look at him in that moment, she wasn’t sure she could have weathered the heat in his dark brown eyes. Her whole body thrummed like the rigging of a ship in a gale, and if he kept it up much longer, she would founder on the shore.

Wearing the dress he had made — had touched in every stitch and hem and seam — Nel did feel as though his hands were on her already, around her waist, on her hips, her shoulders, the small of her spine. There wasn’t a part of her that wasn’t prickling.

His knuckles brushed her collarbones as he withdrew his touch. Nel ached all over for him to linger, but he didn’t, and when he was done, he took half a step back and smiled.

“Perfect,” he breathed, meeting her gaze directly.

___

Nel's dress, for those interested. It's a little early for the period, but shhh. It's gorgeous.

I hope you’re still enjoying it, and I hope you’ll consider reblogging as well as leaving a like if you enjoyed it. Take care of yourselves, and I hope you have a lovely day/night wherever you are, and whenever you read this.

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#oh my gosh #the fleeting touches #the tension #ARRRRRGHH #please someone do something #anything really one of them needs to make a move #the slow burn is absolutely killing me #and I love it #heheheeey #the dress is magnificent #I love that there's always some reference to the sea in every chapter #even if there're not on the shore #GREAT writing right here!#❤❤❤❤❤❤#🔥🔥🔥🔥#can't wait to read the next parts

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betti2024 · 8 months ago

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For chapter 10 of Ruination of Lucifer 😌❤️Alastor, buddy, you playin with 🔥🔥, you will burn yourself…

Fanfic by @syaunei you can read it here:

Ruination of Lucifer

#hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #appleradio #radioapple #hazbin lucifer #hazbin hotel fanart

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astrologylunadream · 3 months ago

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Are They Attracted To You?💋🌺🌹 (Pick a card/Tarot love reading)

Hi it's Lunadream❤️ This is an honest reading for whether or not that person on your mind has romantic attraction towards you! hope you find your message💌✨️

Notice: Only take what resonates because the most important thing is your own judgement!♡ If anything doesn't resonate, don't worry! It's not your message right now <3 (Entertainment purpose only. All rights reserved)

Now, shall we begin~? ^w^ Think of the your person, and pick whichever pile that fits the energy you're feeling~❤️‍🔥

Pile 1🩷

Pile 2💋

Pile 3🌺

Pile 4🌹

Take your time and choose carefully with the heart~♡

On to the readings —> ❤️

Pile 1🩷

Sign energy: Facial expression, Body, Art, Right, Demand, 5th house, Taurus, Aries, 2nd house, 9th house,📞🤪🏜🙅‍♂️

🎀Your person's energy: Okay hi so this person is quite smart, they might often be right about things or they always want to be right. They could have sort of a dominant way about them, like they want to be heard.🗣☝️ There is prominent aries or 1st house placements here, also Taurus. Sagittarius, Leo, actually all fire signs wow so this person has a straightforward or directness to them. One of the first things that came up is their body is a work of art lol😂😭 Seriously they might have the build of a greek statue for some, they could be phsyically fit or in shape I'm hearing "sculpted"🦵💪👀 That could mean someone who is creative or into making things too take what resonates.🪄 I feel like this person could make some really funny faces, like they could have very animated facial expressions.😜 Your person may trive on having attention on them, or they just get it without trying. Their voice is attractive, also they can be interested in many exotic genres of music.🎧🎼 For some of you this person is from a hot climate, or they are just hot themselves😉 They are sensual and headstrong, this could be someone from a long distance but I only see that for a few of you. They are exciting and want to enjoy many hobbies, there is a thirst for adventure in them.🪂🌋 They could love food especially from different cultures, they are expressive in their body langauge aswell😅🔥 This person might appear wild or reckless. Possibly a bit demanding sometimes or even selfish it depends on the person, but I think they are a youthful spirit.

🌺Are They Attracted To You: Dating, Warrior, Reconnect, Passion, Finger, Leo, Pisces, Moon, Neptune, Chiron,🔊🥺💁‍♂️🪃

Okay there is a lot of passion here, for some of you this person wants to date you!🫵❤️‍🔥 Like they are energetically pointing at you like "pile 1 date me now😤" lmao. They have a desire to reconnect with you emotionally and heal you with this passion and devotion I'm hearing, but I think your judgement is needed here because the situation is iffy.🤨🔍 Although there is a lot of attraction from this person, it could be more like infatuation for them. This person feels restless and easily bored, I do see that this person would get an ego boost from dating you.🔝🏆 They are very vocal about their attraction to you my pile 1's, but they're wearing rose colored lenses a bit when it comes to you. This person fantasizes about you, and they want to win your heart.🫢❤️‍🔥 It's like they are in a gauntlet of war competing with your potential suitors in the spiritual realm lol😂⚔️ Be careful though as this person's attraction may be unstable or flighty, the spark they feel may ignite but also burn out fast. They could lose interest easily in relationships I'm hearing, it's hard for them to keep focus. I think they have a soft spot for you though, they want to prove themselves to you.🎁✨️ This attraction to you feels more loyal and devoted than they usually are. They want to reach out to you, for some of you this person wants to apologize for something or heal any emotional wounds you have.🫂💞 This person's attraction to you is more on a spiritual and emotional level than phsyical but I'm seeing that too, they feel attached to you most energetically.🔗💭 They are attracted to you because of the psychic bond you two share, your soul is so precious to them and they don't want to see you suffer. Wow I think this person is very emotional over you, there is a mixture of passion and love for this pile.🌹🩷 For some of you this person is having dreams of you, their subconcious is very attracted towards you. I think this person is healing, maybe that is why their energy was so chaotic at first. You may be keeping them in tune with their more caring or nurturing self.

💌Messages from your person: I still love you, It's the start of something new, You're pretty, Nothing else matters, I can't believe you would choose me, You read my mind, I stay asleep dreaming of you, It feels so good. 🐇🛑🍪🕯(Wow yes they dream of you pile 1 and they fantastize of you, definitely a psychic connection here!❤️🥹)

Thank you my pile 1's! If you feel this resonated, you may tap the heart to claim this message!🌺💋

I hope you enjoyed your reading! ʚ(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )ɞ If you did be sure to let me know pile 1 with the pink heart emoji~🩷 Thanks for scrolling through, Hugs hugs hugs!! See you in the next reading🥰

Pile 2💋

Sign energy: Back off, Lesson, Glow up, Top, Force, Air, Neptune, Jupiter, 6th house, Pisces,♂️💦🍒🍭

🎀Your person's energy: Wow this person does not like us channeling their energy right now lol😅 Their vibe seems confused and very resistant, they could be very busy or unavailable right now.✋️😠 I feel like this person has a defensive energy towards my pile 2's, they try to be realistic I'm hearing. For some of you this person is masculine or dominant, they could even be phsyically bigger for some of my pile 2's🫢 Air sign energy, Pisces, Sagittarius, Virgo, those could be in their chart. Maybe Neptune in pisces or in the air signs for some, jupiter in 6th house is possible, also pisces mars or neptune-mars aspects. these are all mutable signs actually. This is someone you can learn a lot from, or you will learn valuable lessons from your connection with them.💡 This person is so resistant you guys like they are in this energy of pushing you away?? It feels like they are being way too hard on themselves as well as you.💔 This person is very cautious and intelligent, they may not believe in fairytales or misleading fantasies. Honestly for some in this pile it seems as if they think you are getting your hopes up with them, that could definitely be the case for many of you. They might feel like they are more mature or responsible in some way, they seem to be very strict or judgemental towards you.🤨 I mean, this person is very forceful in their intentions and I think they don't want you to get hurt or have your dreams crushed.💭🚫 There is an absence from this person, they could be distancing themselves from you or there is some lack of engagement physically. I mean this person is very attractive and their chest is very noticeable, some of my pile 2's may be unrealistic about this person.😓 Their energy is currently very tense, they have a lot of discipline I'm hearing. They are forceful and driven. Behind their functional facade they are quite emotionally challenged, but they try to hide their feelings or control them.❤️‍🩹

🌺Are They Attracted To You: Libra, Force, Society, Honey, Frozen, 11th house, Pluto, Moon, Leo, Pisces,📚🧲🎠🧐

Ah so this is interesting pile 2! Force came out twice in this reading and with pluto I think there is a magnetic pull towards you here actually.😳😍 I'm surprised by their initial energy but it seems like they are stuck fighting their emotions, their attraction towards you may go against their own societal expectations or they are worried about their image😱👤✨️ They have a lot of pressure on them, so I think their energy is quite intense towards you. You make them emotional and this confuses them, they feel unable to take any action I'm hearing. It's like this person is frozen with indecision about my pile 2's🧊❄️ They could be weighing their options right now, for some of you this person is also faking their confidence in front of you. They are hiding their feelings, but they feel a a psychic pull towards you pile 2!!💭✨️ They might be searching for information especially online in order to identify these emotions omg.😨 They may have an strange thirst for knowledge about you that they can't explain, they are deeply curious about you without even realizing it. For some this could even mean possible obsession, they can't seem to figure you out so I think that morphs into a type of attraction for them.🧠🖤 This is quite the plot twist. They may not be aware of their interest in you, but there is a strange attachment to you. For some of you they may even be silently learning more about you through social media or any way they can. It is possible this person is definitely not aware of their attraction to you and they may not even feel it at first, but it is subconcious.😳💭 Either they are putting on an act about how they feel or for others in this pile they haven't realized they feel an attraction to you, but this secret is yet to be revealed for them my pile 2's❤️‍🔥

💌Messages from your person: My future is with you, You have so much to say, I have no boundaries with you, You're so delicate, You are, It's all fake, Can I hold you? I'm trying to find myself.🎎🤩🚨🙃 (Okay pile 2 so this person admits to it they have been putting on an act, they have been hiding their true energy towards you relentlessly but they just can't hold back from you. They are lost and trying to figure things out, my pile 2's this person wants to hold you.😫❤️)

Thank you my pile 2's! If you feel this resonated, you may tap the heart to claim this message!🌺💋

I hope you enjoyed your reading! ʚ(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )ɞ If you did be sure to let me know pile 2 with the kiss emoji~💋 Thanks for scrolling through, Hugs hugs hugs!! See you in the next reading🥰

Pile 3🌺

Sign energy: Vision, Star, Try, Control freak, Meaning, Gemini, Virgo, 3rd house, Vertex, Earth,😇🕷🍪🤙

🎀Your person's energy: Exciting! This person feels witty and analytical, they may be a fast thinker or use their head a lot.🧠💭 They can be focused and may be good at communicating, also a very angelic personality🥰✨️ They try to be helpful and have meaningful conversations with others, but they can also be very controlling for some. They are skilled with their hands, and they may be very good at many things including speaking.🗣👑 They could be Earth sign, Gemini, Virgo, or Mercury dominant. 3rd house placements, also virgo in 3rd house for some. This person may talk or think excessively.🤯 For some this person is very social and may have many friends or converse with lots of people often. They do well at may at school or work, they have a professional/well put together vibe about them. They want to be a fast and efficient person.🔨✨️ They are talented and there is a star quality about them in their expertise. May be very thorough and detailed. They could have a good reputation or people see them as bright example.⭐️ They may be a rolemodel of some sort or you look up to them. This person possibly struggles with overthinking or anxiety, they often have their mind on many different things.👀 They are mindful and think things through. Try to appear cool in most conversations😎 Very clever and sweet I'm hearing, they might freak out about some stuff sometimes. Like for some of you this person could be afraid of spiders or like not completing an assignment lol things like that😂

🌺Are They Attracted To You: At last, Responsibility, Ladder, Masculine, Accessory, Aries, 7th house, Sagittarius, South node, Eros,🐓♈️🌫🪂

Okay so there is a lot of passion in this pile, they see you as something hot and untamable! There is heavy aries influence here, some of you may be aries🤭 This person is normally level headed and responsible but you bring out this wild side to them😳🔥 There is a lot of attraction to you my pile 3's, honestly you really turn them on😭 This person may feel tempted by you, or you challenge them in some way. You make them want to act tougher or more dominant with you, you bring out a reckless version of this person, it's like a hidden monster that has been waiting to be unleashed.👿⛓️ Mhm this person is wild about you honestly, their feelings are loud and clear here. They are attracted to your free spirit, they want to take risks with you.🪂🔥🚀 Something about you is foreign to them, almost forbidden. If you're in the room with them, the air feels thicker. They have such a passionate fiery energy towards you, but this attraction is also an interest in a commitment with you. They may desire a long term relationship instead of a fleeting romance. This person feels like you complete them, and they may be very attracted to you as their romantic counterpart take what resonates of course.💍💖 They feel an obligation towards you, like they have to be strong or reliable for you. You excite this person, there is a spark they see in you.🔥😫 They might feel like you are dangerous for them though, and there could be lots of physical tension between you two. They try to keep composed, like they are fighting their demons.🥊 You make them feel empowered and full of passion and drive. They may especially view you as phsyically attractive or their ideal type. I'm hearing you cloud their judgement and you could even make them lose their inhibitions.❤️‍🔥 So much attraction!

💌Messages from your person: I know it's hard, I love the shape of your lips, The pain will go away, You're a genius, Don't just stand there, So what? You're too kind, Of course you won't. ��️✍️😡🤐 (Ohh pile 3 this person is hot and bothered, they think you're really sweet and smart and they know you won't just let it go to waste🥰 This is a mix of tension and appreciation from this person, wow I think they want to compete for you🥺)

Thank you my pile 3's! If you feel this resonated, you may tap the heart to claim this message!💋

I hope you enjoyed your reading! ʚ(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )ɞ If you did be sure to let me know pile 3 with the hibiscus emoji~🌺 Thanks for scrolling through, Hugs hugs hugs!! See you in the next reading🥰

Pile 4🌹

Sign energy: Beloved, Model, Leo, Blush, Make out, 12th house, Air, Pluto, 11th house, Mercury,⛓️🥀💆‍♀️⛪️

🎀Your person's energy: So.. some of you wanna make out with this person right now😂 lmao just kidding but yes there is a lot of attraction to this person haha. Some of my pile 4's really love this person, they make your day. They could be a model or they have that kind of allure to them, they just earn effortless attention and obsession lol.💫 You may dream of them, even fantasize of them. You feel spiritually connected to them, and of course it is very apparent in the energy that you are interested in them through tarot/astrology. Some of you met this person online or they don't know your identity, only some. This person could be famous or people's heads just turn to them.👤✨️ Could be actor or creator for some, they are talented in something. Some of you are not with this person right now, there could be phsyical distance and lack of communication for you two.📵 They could be an Air sign, Leo, Pisces, Scorpio, Aquarius, Gemini, Mercury in 12th house, Pluto in Leo or Pluto in 11th house, Mercury in 11th house for some. I'm hearing this person is a religion lol what, they could have a lot of secret admirers like for some in this pile take what resonates lol. They could be religious, also for some they have a following on social media or an influencer.🤳 Hey they are pretty attractive I could see why, this person might make you blush.🤭💗 You may be too shy to talk to them or you just can't for some reason, they are quite captivating and glamorous.💋✨️ May attract lots of jealousy because of their radiant energy and confidence. You admire their unique qualities, they are super special. Their presence is intense and magnetic, maybe even serious for some in this pile. Strange things about them make you giggle and smile, I'm hearing they have a hold on you. You might feel like they're your soulmate, but there is an air of mystery to them. This person is so hot, some of you may fantastize being touched by them and you may not even know them that well, it feels like your heart is captured by them, maybe even a little addicted for some.🫢🩷

🌺Are They Attracted To You: Baby, Wedding, Performance, Spring, Ex lover, Taurus, 2nd house, Vertex, Aries, Leo,🕊❤️‍🔥🔑⛲️

Hm interesting, so this is giving a lot more info actually. Wedding came out my pile 4's😏💕 This person finds you naturally attractive and full of charm!😍💋 They have a playful interest in you, also very passionate and sweet. They think you're pretty, aesthetically pleasing to them in many different senses.✨️ For some in this pile this is an ex that wants you back, like the classic "come back to me baby" stereotype lmao I can hear that for some of you😅💌 they are still burning with passion for you. This could be a flame that just started for others in this pile, your connection with this person is meaningful and possibly a key aspect of your life. That is especially true because this person may want to marry you and that could actually work for them!💍💗 They have a lot of charm and attraction to you, also with the dove emoji they might definitely plan to confess or get the message across to you. They want your attention fast, they might even put on a show for it.😂 They are dramatic about you. Like for some of you this person is trying to be flashy to get your interest, they might be dressing nicer or flirting a lot. You make this person feel very flirty omg, with this mix of energy it feels like sweet talking.🗣🍬🩷 Like they feel so attracted to your warm kindness, they find you to be irresistible. They love your personal feminine qualities you whether it's like making things nicer or shopping, even your voice🥰 Some of you may be born in spring, also there are definitely some Taurus in this pile! This person is attracted to your earthly beauty, even if you don't feel pretty they see you as a goddess.🪞 This energy is very persuasive I think this person is so captivated by your aura and presence.💖 Their attraction to you is a grand, passionate and devoted kind, you are like wood they need to ignite their flames.🔥 They feel like they can trust and rely on you, they're attracted to how stable and beautiful you are pile 4! There is a lot of desire here, they want to be seen by you. Also they want to give you their attention, they're such a charmer😩❤️‍🔥

💌Messages from your person: I need you in this lifetime, Pretend you don't know me, I love the shape of your lips, Why not? Let's break up, They're jealous of me, I believe you, Focus on yourself.🧤🔮🤴🫰 (Wow of course they are quite dramatic lol. They are very attracted to you, this person may be unable to be with you right now. Some of you are dating this person or they want a relationship with you but others are jealous😳 People may want their hands on you/them, or for others it could be timing or situation that is coming between you both. This person believes in you though, I mean they believe in the divine connection you have but they want you to focus on yourself right now. There is so much love for you and they don't want you to get dragged into all the drama, they wanna be with you now but they want you to prioritize your self care and wellbeing most importantly.😩💗)

Thank you my pile 4's! If you feel this resonated, you may tap the heart to claim this message!🌺💋

I hope you enjoyed your reading! ʚ(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )ɞ If you did be sure to let me know pile 4 with the red rose emoji~🌹 Thanks for scrolling through, Hugs hugs hugs!! See you in the next reading🥰

Wanna see more readings like this? Check out my tumblr for accurate readings for you!💗🌊🌸

Thanks for reading! \(*^w^)/💌 -Lunadream <3

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yandere-wishes · 20 days ago

Text

༻⋆Little Red Riding Hood You Know More Than You Should⋆༺

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ Capitano recognizes your ancient name before he recognizes you. Ororon thinks it's about time to confess his feelings to his childhood friend. You just wanted to protect your homeland.

⁀➷ Warnings: Yandere Behavior, Stalking, Possessiveness, Reader has a pyro vision.

⁺₊𝄞₊⁺ Tejano Blue By CAS

⋆ ˚｡⋆ Bless your heart, make you part of my life forever ~ CAS

.✦── °❀⋆ .🔥.⋆❀°── .✦

It had started with Ororon.

With the Chrysanthemum he delicately weaved into your hair.

Red red red like the vision that burns at your hip.

Red like the boy-heart you wished to carve out.

It had ended with the Capitano.

With verglas weaving across your arms from his most intimate touch.

Blue, blue, blue like the creature that claimed to know you.

Blue like the veins that harbor such a melancholy legacy.

The chipped wood of the basket pierces your palm, tiny splinters pricking at soft flesh. You don't fully register the twinge; the pain is too silken, too delicate. Instead, you tighten your fist around the wooden handle daring the splinters to puncture, to draw blood. At least then you'd have a reason to visit Ororon, a reason to pry open his door and interrupt his precious isolation.

You'd like to forget about him.

The ignorant boy with the mismatched eyes.

Leave him to rot in his secluded cabin.

But it's all so hard to shake the saccharine memories of the all too lanky boy who used to hold your hand as you played hide and seek with Iktomisaurs in the forest.

Granny Itztli had requested ingredients for a ritual sermon taking place two moons from now. Nightshades and Quenepa Berrys and sand from the cost. "Have you talked to Ororon recently?" Granny asks, her brows furrowed in annoyance or worry or some other emotion too masked to fully read. You shake your head, gingerly plucking the ingredients from your basket and sprawling them across the table. "He hasn't been returning any of my letters, or even answering the tribesman's requests for his vegetables. I swear if that boy-"

You can feel her anger slipping out, the tendrils of her powers lashing at the air, slithering across the walls. You gulp, grasp tightening once more against your basket's handle. The wood scraps at your skin grounding you as you let out a shaky breath. "I'll check on him for you granny," you blurt out trying to plaster a desperate smile across your face. Citlali's eyes soften as she looks at you taking in your taut stance. "I'd always wished for him to pick you as his bride." She mused hand waving the air as if to dispel her anger like smoke. "you'd have been the perfect wife for my foolish grandson, someone to keep an eye on him and his whimsy wills of inanity." She sighs ushering you to the door. "Still I suppose it's not too late."

You turn on your heels defiance ripe on your tongue. Ororon had once been a dear friend, a brother. And while the memories are wrapped in golden velvet and honey. You'd much rather pluck the nails from your fingers than marry that weirdo. But before the protest could be launched the door is solemnly slammed in your face.

You fasten the cloak along your neck, pull the hood over your head

before making your way to the lone cabin in the woods. Skipping along the broken road swinging your empty basket.

The cabin itself is petit and serene, a pretty little heap of wood and spray paint with its renowned vegetable garden stretching the whole diameter. "Ororon," you call out, surprised at how bitter his name tastes. Rotton, almost forgotten. "Ororon," you knock at the door.

Four knocks.

Four pounds.

All accompanied by the bitter name spilling from behind your teeth.

But there is no answer, nothing outside the peaceful lull of the breeze and the distant shrikes of Yumkasaurs.

Nothing.

Well, maybe it's for the best.

You'd have shown him your blistered palm should he have answered. Shown him the blood and silently prayed he'd hold your hand and bandage your wound with all the tenderness of an eight-year-old boy bandaging his best friend's bleeding knee.

It's only when you've started back on the road, heading towards the grand stadium, that you hear something—an icy omen whispering along the horizon. You look around, greeted by nothing but Natlan's nature. Slowly, you start to leave the path, trudging through grass and marching up the little hills, following the distant chill in the air.

What was it Granny always said about straying off the path?

Something about tragedy and trouble waiting beyond the trees.

Only this time, trouble -or rather tragedy- lays behind a set of rocks, half a mile from the cabin. That's when you finally see them. The chill in the air has grown harsher here, biting at your bare arms. You pull your hood further over your head, wrapping the rest of the cape around yourself in a bid for warmth. From the rock you've concealed yourself behind, you can hear two men speak.

Ororon stands before a man, no not a man. Such a human word could not describe the terrifying thing that loomed outside the sun's reach.

Your ears perk at the low timbre of his growl. The monster spews blasphemy, sacrilege, against your dear archon. Calling her a coward for not using the gnosis, calling her inept.

You feel his words cutting through you, lacrations running deep. Your body is on fire your vision boling by your side. What's worst is that Ororon listens, humming along in acknowledgment. You can taste the molten anger stinging the roof of your mouth, feel the embers burning your tongue. Your hand covers your mouth, nails sinking into your cheek to avoid permitting the frustration to break free and blowing your cover.

You turn swiftly, using the cover of rocks and trees to shadow your escape.

Desperately dashing for the path that'll lead you back to your village. Granny Itztli and the tribe leader must hear of this. They must know that Ororon has joined the Fatui and is planning to steal the Archon's gnosis.

The problem, however, may have been the red cape you'd draped yourself in, its bright color catching the wrong sun rays at the wrong time. Luminous enough to catch the captain's attention.

You feel the world slipping, sunlight giving way to a ghoulish purple glow. Your feet hit the battered pavement of the path, right before the world turns to black.

You scream just as something pulls you away...

You've been here before, several times in fact. This is the night kingdom or at least an astral realm within the night kingdom. Your body -your real body- is probably laying limp in the grass being licked by some saurian.

"(y/n), what are you doing here?" Ororon's voice is muffled, distant. A cloud scraping across the rougher edges of the sky. His ghastly apprehension hovers behind you, you can feel his chilled breath on your neck.

You try to speak, to answer. But the words never leave your mouth. You must remember that the shadow world has rules. That you can not move with your legs or speak with your tongue. You form the words like bubbles floating in the air. Waiting for them to pop, to unleash your voice amongst the gloom.

"I was looking for you, granny's worried. Apparently, you've disappeared."

His nails scrape at your neck. Fitting the delicate bones between the cusp of his palm. "But I'm right here" he whispers in your ear, resting his chin on your shoulder. "Sorry, I wasn't there to greet you. I've been...busy".

"Ororon" The voice echoes across the cavern, loud and disturbing. You feel frost leak from every syllable. Your eyes widen as the black-clad monster marches forward body rigid embodying authority and discipline in every move.

Is this how everyone from Snezhnaya looks?

Taut and stiff and malicious?

Draped in furs and armor.

Ominous and cruel.

"This is my friend (y/n) we grew up together. Isn't she cute Capitano?" Ororon ends the statement with a mock peck to your neck. Despite its fleeting nature you still wince at the invasion.

You don't recall Ororon being so bold, so satirizing. Has the folly of the fatui bled into him? Rotted his essence and painted it anew?

"Get rid of her, we haven't the time to waste on such..." The man, no the nightmare. Stops in front of you. His bulky clothes remind you of the Tatankasaurs that roam the sandy southwest.

The captain's mask is sheer black. Murkey candance that hides his mysterious visage. But you notice the jerky way his head tilts down the way you can't escape the strange pierce of his unseable eyes.

"Do I know you" it's phrased as an order, a demnad.

Tell me what you are, what you're supposed to mean to me.

But there is no answer to greet it. Nothing apart from an unsteady silence. You can not know this ice-cold man. From behind you Ororon stiffens, "Do you know the captain." he asks, a silver of betrayal lacing his words. You only shake your head, narrowing your eyes to try and pry beyond the abyss of his mask.

Capitano's hand grips at your fingers pulling them up to his mask. Your heart stops as you see him bow his head, the cold of his helmet biting into your flesh. You hear the kiss like an arrow piercing the ever-looming eeriness of the night kingdom.

Capitano utters your name.

Rolls it around his mouth trying to savor the nostalgia.

Trying to crack open every syllabus and taste its familiarity.

"(y/n)..."

Your body lays limb amongst the grass, from atop the green hill Capitano observes your sleeping form. His eyes trace every curve and crevasse of your body jotting each detail to memory.

You look like so ethereal like this. Blood red amid the green and gold of the prairie. The humor of it all isn't lost on him after all he's partaken in more than his fair share of carnage. And that's exactly what you look like, a beautiful corpse laying in her puddle of blood. A macabre laceration layed upon Natlan's corse.

The sun beats down. Its rays too warm and treasonous.

It's only then that Capitano realizes where he's seen you before.

This exact scene, the blood pooling from beneath, the body lying amidst the grass, the sun blessing the slayed warrior in its light.

He knows you...

You don't remember waking up. Don't recall commanding your stiff muscles to move. Nor do you recall the first sight your wry eyes landed upon.

All you remember is running.

Blurred greens and reds of the scenery rushing by.

Granny must know of this.

The tribe must know of this.

Ororon is a traitor. A conspirator in a plot against Mavurika.

You're not quite sure why your heart stings when you think of this.

Your mouth is dry, ash coating your lips as Citlali glares down at you. Ororon's face flashes behind your eyes. You see him everywhere. Hear his gentle voice shushing you. Your ears are ringing, his voice whispering how much he's missed you, how much he wants you by his side once more.

Citlali says something, you think she's scolding you for traversing the pathway. She's gone in the next blink, essence lingering in a spinning room. Ororon kneels in front of you. No, not Ororon just some spectre wearing his face.

Or maybe it's his astral projection. Maybe he can't let you utter a word of what you saw.

"Just keep quiet darling. I promise this will all make sense soon." His fingers spark when they grace your cheek. Solid and spirit all at once. You try to touch his hand, to sink the sparks inside you, to feel Ororon once more. Instead, your finger collides with your own soft flesh.

The colors are chipping away.

Someone is calling your name.

Ororon or Citlali?

Maybe they've always been the same.

Why is the room spinning?

Why is it so dark...

You shouldn't be out. The sun is too harsh, merciless. You ring your palm across your basket's handle letting the friction rub the flesh raw.

Granny had warned you to stay inside. To avoid Ororon and whatever else you'd seen. But you can't let this go, the words may die upon your tongue but there must be evidence hidden somewhere. Evidence that you can present to the pyro archon, evidence that could save everything.

"Did you really miss me that much?" His voice is sharper than any arrow from his bow. Ororon stands blocking your path the captain hovering beside him.

Weren't you always told the path would be safe?

Capitano reaches out, metal fingers wrapping around your fragile wrist he pulls you to him, dark mask peering beyond you. Trying to piece you together. From behind you feel Ororon's lips sneaking up your neck. You scream, a shriveled sound. "Didn't you come all this way just to see us?" Ororon asks between open-mouthed kisses, you writher between their bodies desperate to escape. Tears flowed from your shiny eyes.

You're so pretty when you cry Ororon feels bad for admitting that. But he can't help but admire how innocent and helpless you look, trapped between two monsters.

It's only now that he notices your red hood is adorned with embroidered Chrysanthemum, for a moment Ororon thinks it has something to do with flowers he used to braid into your hair. Back when he'd been too young to fully understand destiny and you'd been too young to understand legacy.

"I came to find evidence of your betrayal." You spit, free hand reaching into your basket to try to find your ancient name. Tears trickle from your eyes as the captain leans closer. Your fingers finally graze the forged feather and you pry it out, holding it to your chest, feeling its power coursing through you.

Your elbow collides harshly with Ororon's rib, as he tumbles backward you gain enough space to sidekick the captain. Only for it to be blocked by his iron-clad hand. The metal makes your bones ring a sharp pain that leaves your leg numb.

"You bear an ancient name?" Capitano asks, skeptical. You roll your eyes despite your better judgment. Capitano releases your wrist, instead reaching out to try and grab your ancient name. In the millisecond of freedom, you stalk backward before sprinting back to the tribe. Your basket forgotten at the captain's feet.

"she bears the ancient name Ayizu," Ororon says, still clutching his side.

Capitano swallows the information. Letting the sharp edges nick at his throat. He'd had been uncertain before despite all the parallels.

But now the shock was rolling through him like lightning bolts. That's why you looked so familiar. Not only did you bare Ayizu's name but there was no doubt in Capitano's mind that you were one of his descendants.

The captain chuckles a mirthless noise. The irony feels like a blistering burn blooming upon his rotting flesh. "She's quite loyal." he begins, blacked gaze traveling to Ororon. "She'd make a valuable asset in our quest to save Natlan. Fetch her for me will you Ororon?" It's nothing less than an order one that Ororon may be a bit too keen on fulfilling.

"Oh and Ororon, we need to start you on a training agenda. I fear you are the most pathetic warrior Natlan has ever seen."

Ororon's eyes sunken before traversing up the captain's imposing form.

"Yes sir" he mumbles, biting his lips to avoid moaning at the deliciously sharp pain you've gifted him.

It's dark again,

You let the sharp wood of your basket cut into your palm. Relishing in the familiar feeling as blood mars the wooden handle. When did your basket return? You could have sworn you'd abandoned it with your attackers,

The path beneath your feet is cracked and broken. Smeared in ice and ectoplasm. Still, you walk forward into the abyss. There's nowhere else to go.

You expected them to be there. To see their towering forms amidst the darkness. Instead, you see them lounging between the blacked boulders.

Soldiers fresh from the fight. You don't enquire about their endeavors about the horrors you're sure they've inflected upon your land. But before you can fully walk past Capitano grabs your wrist and pulls you into his lap. "Stop" You struggle to break free, only for him to grab your chin and force your eyes onto his faceless visage. "So you're the descendent of my old friend? The inheritor of his noble name." You feel bile creeping up your throat. "Don't insult my ancestor, he'd never associate with the likes of you." you spite.

Capitano chuckles and signs, pulling his mask up a smidge to reveal decayed flesh. You gasp, an opportunity he ceases to pull you into a deep kiss, teeth biting and tearing at your soft lips, his holed tongue running over your teeth. You try to scream to cry, suffocating from the floral-scented rot. When the captain finally pulls back you run your fingers over pained lips smearing the blood across your cheek and chin.

"You should smile more" Ororon teases nipping at your ear until you wince, his hands move up and down your hips squeezing every so often. He's never been this bold before. You blame the Fatuis staring down at you. Blame the Outlander and his weird ways, somehow the irony is utterly lost on you.

"Please just let me go" you beg, your body is on fire your vision pulsing once more. "You're a captain surely you must understand why I'm so eager to protect my people from you?" Ororon laughs, littering your cheek with tiny kisses. "I understand," Capitano responds, his fingers dabbing your blood-covered lips. "I'm desperate to save Natlan too." He brings the red-coated digit to his mouth, sucking softly.

"We all want to protect Natlan" Ororon chips in. "That's why you should join us, honor your ancient name." You shake your head, almost as if you're shaking the nightmare away. "There is no honor in what you're doing."

You feel something around your neck. Metalic fingers wrapping tightly around your throat. Clutching tighter and tighter. With his other hand, the Captain removes his mask.

You scream...

The room is cold, freezing.

Your calloused palm squeezes trying to feel the handle of your wooden basket. When your nails only dig into your own skin, you awaken, head darting trying to find your precious basket.

It's on the table...

You don't have a table by your bed.

Beside you, someone tightens their hold on your waist pulling you into an icy stiff chest. Captiano's breath is cold, his voice gruff with sleep as he whispers little adorations into your ear. You're only now realizing Ororon lying in front of you, his lithe fingers playing with your neck.

No not your neck. There's something wrapped around your throat, no one the cold was unbearable, this "necklace" must be made of pure cyro. "You look so pretty like this." Ororon mumbles, daring to connect his lips to yours in a sheepish, sloppy attempt at a kiss. You wrangle your head to the side breaking the pathetic kiss. Behind you, you feel Capitano's chest rumble in laughter.

"Really Ororon must I teach you everything?" Capitano pushes Ororon's head roughly until his lips are on yours, "Open your mouth" he commands. To which both of you obey not knowing who he's referring to. Slowly Ororon permits his tongue to wander past your lips and into your mouth. Satisfied Capitano begins to suckle and kiss your neck, his sharp teeth effortlessly breaching skin.

"I know you don't believe me when I say, I'm here to save Natlan." Capitano whispers. "But I helped your Ancestor defend this land once, and I shall do it again." Capitano sits up stiffly, his hand on your shoulder using ice to keep you in place. "The war with the Abyss is starting soon. You'll be safe here while Ororon and I make the final preparations." He sighs fully turning to you.

For the first time, you see the rot and decay that has marred his once gorgeous face. You gulp, swallowing your screams, letting his words sink in like the ice chaining you. Capitano pulls himself from the bed, making his way to the door. Ororon gives you a final kiss before also retreating from the bed and going to stand by the captain.

"If we survive this, I don't intend to take you to Snezhnaya. Frankly, I don't think either of you could survive the cold." He jokes, and you notice it's the first time his serious icy facade has cracked. "You will be safe here with Ororon and I'll visit you as much as my duties permit." strange how his words almost, almost sounded like 'I love you' muttered in a foreign tongue enclosed in ice. Something impossible to thaw out.

"I'm sorry about this darling," Ororon mutters as he follows the captain out. "But we'll be back soon." He offers you a soft smile before closing the door. One that makes your heart melt. Instead of a kidnapper, you see the little boy who used to own your heart.

The door closes leaving you to bask in all the glory of your doom.

.✦── °❀⋆ .🔥.⋆❀°── .✦

Apologies this is definitely not my best work but I just wanted to get something out for these two. May end up writing something better later on.

💜Tags: @definitely-asexual-volcano @fujisworld @kudoaii @savsxz @fantasyhopperhea @misscoolisback123 @army-of-inspirited-onces @lorkai @lavandulawrites @kazudare @s1mppp @onceapirateprincess @lovelive-animequeen1029 @trashpandaperson @rhain-things @milktea-coffeelady

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porcelainseashore · 8 months ago

Text

Heavenly Creatures

Pairing: Altar Boy! Leon Kennedy x Catholic School Girl! Reader

Summary: Growing up in a conservative, Catholic community, you and Leon were kept apart as kids for your own good. However, a fateful encounter at church many years later causes you to question those boundaries.

Content & Warnings: 18+ Smut, porn with plot, unprotected p in v, oral (m & f receiving), rimming (f receiving), semi-public sex (church), Catholicism, religious imagery & symbolism, temptation, guilt, shaming, name-calling, growing up, smoking, swearing, romance, fluff, secret relationship.

Author's Note: Leon and Reader are in senior high and 18 when smut happens. No guarantee that you won’t burn in hell after reading this 🔥😂

Special thanks to AliBelleRosetta for being my sounding board + shadesoflsk & Cameron for your helpful feedback.

Title from Heavenly Creatures by Wolf Alice.

AO3 Link

Snake. Devil. Satan’s spawn.

Those were the names you had grown accustomed to as a child. You didn’t know why you were called them, instead of the one your parents had given you. You were too little to understand. All you knew was that you were made to feel different. Maybe you were really an anomaly from the rest after all.

Instead of being quiet and shy, you were loud and boisterous. It was natural for you, seeing as you were going through your tomboy phase, which was the exact reason your parents had stuck to when they received complaints about your behavior. They laughed it off, while others reined their daughters in, forcing them into perfect Sunday dresses, braided hair adorned with pastel ribbons and clean, black Mary Jane shoes. Good enough to fit into a pretty gift box with wrapping paper. But you would tear it all down, before anyone could lay a finger on you.

Growing up in a place where other children were told to shun you was difficult at first. But then, you learnt to play by yourself and relish in the power of make believe. You climbed trees, rolled in the mud and ran through the forest fending off imaginary monsters. Sometimes, when you bumped into other groups of boys who threw stones and made fun of you, you fought back, further earning the title of crazy witch! Who needed these idiots anyway? You were your own best company.

One day, you sat in your disheveled, cream cotton dress, swinging your legs from a tree in your front lawn as usual. It overlooked the suburban neighborhood street, giving you a bird’s eye view of your surroundings. You noticed a family of three strolling along the sidewalk, though the couple gave you a disapproving look as they walked past, and whispered to their little, adolescent boy. They thought they were being so discreet, but you could hear every single word they were saying.

“Don’t pay attention to her. She’s bad news.”

Regardless of this remark, the boy gave in to his curiosity and as he peered up, you held his wide-eyed gaze. His irises were azure in color, glowing as it caught the early dusk light from different angles, shifting across a stunning spectrum of bluish, iridescent hues. You were captivated by them, and as you continued staring, his cheeks turned rosy red, though it seemed like he could not break away from you either. That moment was abruptly cut short, as his father smacked the back of his head, chiding his son for disobeying him.

“Come along now, Leon.” The older man wrapped an arm around the boy’s shoulders, turning him away from your direction.

Leon. So, that was his name. As you watched them turn the corner at the end of the street and head off, you wondered if and when you’d see him again.

━━━━━━━━━━━

Leon had heard the stories passed around about you. His parents had often commented about your family as being one of those ‘weird, hippy types’. Frankly, this didn’t scare him, but rather, it fascinated him. They made you appear like something he had read in a book about myths and legends, and he wanted to see if it was real.

The next time he went out to play in the field, he walked by your place again on purpose, even though it would have been the longer route. As he had predicted, you were up in the tree again, lounging across its branches with your eyes closed, like a slithery snake basking in the sun. Your dress was stained with grass and dirt, and your feet were soiled and filthy. Twigs poked out haphazardly from your knotted, messy hair.

You looked like a creature of sorts, alright, he thought.

He inched towards the base of the tree trunk gingerly, trying not to stir the sleeping beast. But as he got closer, he accidentally stepped into a pile of dead leaves, which crunched underfoot.

You roused from your slumber then, rubbing your eyes as you stretched your arms out with a lazy yawn. He flinched when you looked downwards at him, as if you might strike out, but you just smiled and said, “Hi.”

He was confused then. From the descriptions of you, he had expected you to breathe fire and gnash your teeth at him fiercely, but you were just a normal girl. He gave you a puzzled look, nodding as he greeted you with a stutter, “Hi… I-I’m, uh, Leon.”

“I know.” You grinned.

“You do?” He looked astounded, as if you’d conducted some dark ritual to find out.

You picked up on this and teased him, wiggling your fingers as you mouthed, “Magic…”

He laughed, relaxing his stiff shoulders and asking you for your name. He’d only known you until now as that girl, or one of those nicknames people gave you out of spite.

You introduced yourself and offered him a half-eaten apple you had munched on before napping on the tree. He hesitated at first, regarding it as if it were a forbidden fruit, but eventually he reached out for it. Gratefully, he bit in, savoring the flavorful burst of its juicy flesh.

“Do you go to church?” He asked suddenly, out of the blue.

Shielding your eyes from the afternoon sun with your hand, you squinted at him. “Yeah, why?”

“Oh.” He paused, considering his next words, though he blurted out with unfiltered honesty, “Well, my dad said that demons can’t enter hallowed ground.”

“I’m not a demon,” you huffed indignantly.

“No, you aren’t,” he agreed, waving his hands in the air apologetically, trying to salvage the situation. “I think you’re nice, actually.” His face was warm and pink again.

“I think you’re nice too.”

And it continued on like this. Some days, he’d pop over to visit and speak with you from below the tree, when he was sure no one was watching. Until a day came where he wasn’t as careful, and was spotted by a concerned neighbor, who ratted him out to his parents.

You were sad that he wasn’t allowed to see you again, but you’d grown used to being alone for most of your childhood, so you tried to put it behind you and move on, unaware that he’d often look out for you at each week’s Sunday Mass.

━━━━━━━━━━━

A number of years passed, and you filled out into your own body. You were in your senior year of an all-girls Catholic high school, and had recently turned 18. Reaching womanhood also meant that you became acutely aware of the changes in the way society treated you now, as compared to the opposite sex. Heads turned as you stalked around with one of the more unruly cliques in your school. Instead of being name-called after otherworldly creatures, you were reduced to bitch, slut, or whore.

People hated what they couldn’t understand or control. You’d been giving the nuns a hard time by asking controversial questions about the biblical text you were meant to study and recite blindly. Detention was nothing new to you and your friends, whom you’d been caught smoking cigarettes together with on school grounds. You were a rebel at heart, and the rest of the law-abiding community wanted to crush that and make you conform.

Leon, on the other hand, had been going to the all-boys school next door, which shared a brother school relationship with yours. He was in the same year and age as you, though being a man meant he had the privilege of getting away with certain things you couldn’t. Even there, your name wasn’t safe from being circulated around the rumor mill. You were the subject of boys’ locker room talk. They associated you with the ‘bad girl’ crowd, highlighting your love for reading banned books and boasting about supposed sexual escapades with you.

“She’ll do favors,” they said, making vulgar gestures by moving their fist back and forth in front of their mouth, while poking their tongue against their cheek.

Leon slammed his locker door shut and stormed off. It made him uncomfortable that they gossiped about you that way, but he was even more ashamed of the fact that he made no effort to stand up for you. He hardly knew you, but it didn’t take a genius to figure out that what they were doing was finding a scapegoat to blame. That, unfortunately, time and time again, happened to be you.

Most of the students there were sexually active anyway, but no one had complained about them. As long as one kept things on the down-low and upheld a certain moralistic façade, they were considered as ‘innocent’, ‘pure’, or ‘normal’ even. For one, he was pretty sure that his father was having an affair with the church choir mistress, but that seemed to go overlooked.

Everyone’s such hypocrites, he pondered, frowning in distaste. Including himself. Although he liked to think that he was brave and courageous, in actuality, he was afraid of rocking the boat. Fitting in was more important, just as his parents had taught him from a young age. It was the side of him that he hated the most, but could not get rid of.

Gathering his belongings, he left school and hurried off. He’d been requested last-minute to serve at Mass that evening, as one of the other altar boys had fallen ill. At church, he exchanged his school uniform for the standard black cassock and white surplice, before starting with the Introductory Rites.

You, on the other hand, had been singled out along with a bunch of other troublesome girls to attend Evening Mass with the Mother Superior that day. It was just your luck that you had to devote an hour of your time to a set of outdated rituals and prayers, with the aim of reflecting upon your sins. The most frustrating part of this exercise was that all of you were placed in the front row pews, so there was no chance of daydreaming or dozing off in front of the priest. You’d never been much of a believer, but sometimes you did speculate if God was watching your every move from above.

As you stood up for the entrance procession, which signaled the start of Mass, a familiar mop of dirty blonde hair and dazzling blue eyes passed by. You’d recognize that anywhere, but it was a wonder how you hadn’t realized that he was serving as an altar boy all this while. Maybe your Mass timings hadn’t aligned? Or maybe you just never paid much attention in church. You’d only seen him here and there when he attended Mass with his family as part of the congregation, but you ignored him back then, because you didn’t want to remember the feeling of losing the closest thing you had to a friend in your pre-teen days.

When Leon turned around to face the congregation for the greeting, he gulped as he saw you, standing almost directly in front of him as both of you made the Sign of the Cross. Speak of the devil, he muttered internally, before chastising himself for unintentionally insulting you and shook that thought away.

You gave him a coy smile as he scampered off to where he was meant to be stationed. For the first time in a while, you took the chance to admire his chiseled features and how much he had grown. He had always been attractive, but he was no longer the little boy you used to know, and instead now a fine, young man, in an even finer religious attire. Puberty did him good, you mused.

All at once, a mischievous plan flashed across your mind as you plotted how to win his attention. It would be an entertaining way to pass the time in this mundane institution. Viewing the school uniform as yet another means for the authorities to curb people’s freedom and creative expression, you had a habit of violating the dress code by making minor adjustments to it. Whether it was shortening the hem of your skirt or wearing below the ankle socks, you went for it. And today was no exception.

You waited until it was time to be seated before attempting to catch his gaze. Within a few minutes, he sneaked a peek your way and you stifled a laugh. Bingo. As you continued looking straight at him, you stretched your legs out cautiously, so as not to alert the Mother Superior, who sat beside you, to your antics. His eyes widened and flickered, as you showed off their length, rotating your ankles in small circles languidly. The other altar boys started to take note and whispered in hushed tones amongst themselves. But you only had eyes for Leon, scrutinizing him like a hawk, as you bared your teeth with a sly grin plastered across your face.

It was only a matter of time before the Mother Superior rapped you on the legs with a thin, wooden cane she carried around for doling out such punishments. The other girls in your row giggled as you returned your legs to a respectable position, disregarding the smarting pain that had accompanied the blow.

It was worth it, you reasoned, spotting Leon’s lopsided smile, as he turned away to hide his blush.

This soon carried on like an unspoken game between you and Leon. You’d attend Mass whenever he was serving as an altar boy, and he’d look out for you, exchanging glances like a secret code shared between the two of you. A sense of thrill arose within him each time, as to what you’d try next. If only he knew what you were capable of.

At some point, you grew bolder. During the Holy Communion, where Leon had been helping the priest to hold the patina under the chins of those who received the Sacred host, you made sure once again to make eye contact with him the whole way through. Your mouth was slightly agape, as you extended your tongue, clasping your hands together in a pious prayer position. When the priest placed the host in your mouth, you swallowed it suggestively, licking your upper lip for a finishing touch. Leon nearly stumbled over backwards as his face turned bright red like a tomato. The last thing he heard was your silvery laughter, and you returned to your seat as if nothing had happened. You had ensnared him now.

When Mass ended, you slipped him a note, asking him to meet you at the confessional when everyone else had been ushered out. You knelt in the penitent compartment, waiting for him to arrive, confident that he would show up. A few minutes later, you heard someone enter the booth where the priest usually sat.

“Bless me, Father, for I have sinned,” you began. Through the latticed screen, you could just about make out Leon’s face as he chuckled.

“What are you playing at?”

“You tell me,” you challenged, testing the waters. “I haven’t received any complaints.”

“Well, I have a question,” he mentioned quietly. “Do you still remember when we hung out back then? At the tree.”

There was pang in your heart, as you recalled your childhood memories. “Of course, you were the only one who bothered to speak to me.”

You pursed your lips before taking the plunge. “I really appreciated that.”

There was a momentary pause, as he took your words in. “I wish they didn’t separate us.”

“It isn’t too late to start over.” It was humiliating how eager you sounded. No matter how much you tried to repress it, you yearned to rekindle that connection you had with him once.

“Listen, I like you,” he admitted, sighing heavily. “But, I can’t go public with this. My parents-”

“Who says it has to be public?” You retorted defensively.

His heartfelt confession emboldened you, yet a part of you felt dejected that this was the best option he could offer. However, you didn’t want to concede without giving it a shot.

He made a noise which sounded like he was in disbelief. “You mean-”

“Shall I come over and show you?” You interrupted, already getting up before he could answer.

“Y-yeah,” he stammered. “I-I’d like that, I guess.”

Exiting your compartment, you stepped out and swiftly went over to where he was, closing the door behind you. It was crammed and stuffy in this tiny box with two people, but beggars couldn’t be choosers. Giving him a once-over, it struck you that he was still in his altar boy attire and perhaps what you were about to do was wrong on so many levels, but you brushed those thoughts aside.

“Um-”

Before he could speak any further, you ran your hands up along his chest and planted your lips onto his, soft and pillowy in texture. He let out a low moan, easing into your embrace as he kissed back, holding onto the back of your head for better leverage. His tongue grazed across your lips and you parted them in response, allowing it to slip inside as you tasted each other. Grabbing the collar of his cassock, you pressed your bodies together heatedly. You sucked on his tongue, eliciting another moan from his throat, as you shuffled him around, pushing his back against the wooden wall with a loud thud. Both of you had lost yourselves in a whirlwind of kisses, oblivious to the outside world and the ruckus you were making.

However, it was hard to ignore the hymn that was being sung when the next Mass started. Leon froze, before pulling away hastily. His mouth was red and swollen, and a pearly string of saliva connected it with yours.

“Shit, we lost track of time,” he panted.

If you didn’t want to be seen, you’d need to remain where you were until the Mass ended. In other words, both of you were trapped here for at least another hour.

Not being one to let such matters ruin the vibe, you responded, “That’s not a problem for me.” Trailing a lone finger down Leon’s body seductively, you let it come to rest above the growing bulge in his cassock.

“Are you serious?” He breathed, as you cupped your hand around it, palming him through his clothes.

“You got a better idea?” You murmured in his ear, squeezing his erection a little as you continued rubbing against it.

“Don’t get me wrong, it feels amazing.” His voice was strained as he spoke. “But, it’s just…”

“Catholic guilt?” You teased.

“Yeah, probably.” He nodded sheepishly.

“Well, maybe if we get you out of this thing.” You gestured to his attire. “You might relax into it more.”

“Makes sense,” he agreed, tugging the surplice over his head and discarding it to the ground. “Though it never really goes away, does it?”

You shrugged, shaking your head. “I still get it, but it’s less of an issue now.” It made you follow up with a question of your own. “Does that mean I’m a bad person?”

His eyes crinkled as he grinned. “You're doing it again.”

“Hm?”

“Guilt,” he indicated. “But to answer your question, no, I don’t think you’re a bad person.”

“Doesn’t matter anyway.” You tried to deflect the topic, knowing the rumors that people spread about you. Leon had probably heard it all. “At least there’s still hope for you.”

“Thanks?”

“Don’t thank me yet.” You winked, removing the sash from his cassock as he unbuttoned the rest of it, revealing a plain white shirt and a pair of shorts underneath.

He snickered as you clucked your tongue at the sight. “What did you expect me to do? Go Commando?”

“Would’ve been hot,” you pointed out.

Leon had always been perceptive. From your interactions, he began to suspect that sometimes you relied on lighthearted banter as a way to mask your nervousness and other underlying emotions.

Nestling his fingers under your chin, he turned you towards him. “You sure about this?”

“Mm hm.” It was sweet of him to check in. Most guys never offered you the same courtesy. “Been thinking about it since Communion,” you added brazenly.

He snorted as you gave him a quick peck on the lips. Working your way down, you kissed his clothed body, pulling the waistband of his underwear and shorts to his ankles. Kneeling before him, you reached for his cock, smearing beads of his precum carelessly along his velvety skin, while you pumped his hot shaft slowly.

He inhaled sharply, snapping his eyes shut, as he tilted his head back in pleasure. In the background, you could hear the priest’s sermon droning on.

With a smug smile, you warned, “Do me a favor and try to keep it down, will you?”

Before he had a chance to react, you filled your mouth with his cock, sliding all the way down its hardened length.

“Jesus,” he groaned.

Instantly, you released it with a pop and tutted in mock disappointment, “Taking the Lord’s name in vain?”

“We’re so going to hell for this,” he laughed faintly, tangling his hands in your hair.

“Ah-” He gasped again, as you held onto the base of his cock, lifting it to flatten your tongue on its underside. Slathering it with saliva, you took his balls into your wet mouth, one at a time, sucking on them delectably. “Fuck!”

“Don’t you ever shut up?” You joked.

“Not if you keep doing what you’re doing, angel.”

Angel. That was a new one. You’d never been called that before, but you liked the sound of it.

Wrapping your lips around his cock, you started a steady rhythm, bobbing your head up and down his shaft. Each time you came up, you flicked your tongue at the tip, licking it as you stared up at him. His eyes flew open, gazing at you with lust and arousal while you sucked him off more vigorously.

Sliding his cock in deeper, you allowed it to hit the back of your throat, causing you to make a guttural noise. Clenching his fist, he bit down hard on his knuckles to stop himself from crying out. If this was hell, he’d stay right here with you. He couldn’t think straight anymore, as he bucked his hips forward in response.

Grabbing his ass, your fingernails left crescent shaped indents on his skin, as you let him fuck your mouth to chase his high. Tears lined your eyelashes and sweat poured down your brow. It had gotten incredibly hot and humid in this enclosed space. But his muted moans only served to turn you on even more. You wondered how perverse and trashy you looked in this position, though Leon could only mumble the opposite in his feverish state.

Soon, he tensed and quivered while hissing through gritted teeth, “God, I’m gonna cum.”

Lady Luck appeared to be on your side, as the congregation were in the middle of singing another hymn, which inadvertently muffled whatever sounds were coming from the confessional. He struggled to hold in his groans as you felt a thick, salty load of his cum wash up against your throat. You choked a bit before swallowing it whole.

Collapsing backwards, you leaned against the cool surface of the seat behind you, wiping the edges of your mouth. Tucking his spent dick back under his clothes, he sank down beside you, kissing you gently and tasting himself on your lips.

“You ok?” He brushed his thumb along your cheek.

You nodded silently and smiled, contemplating if there would be a future to what you had with him now.

“I ruined you,” he jested, showering you with kisses along your jawline.

“As if.” You rolled your eyes, but deep down, you knew it was the truth.

And, just like he had read your mind, he uttered the magic words, “So, when will I see you again?”

━━━━━━━━━━━

Since the encounter at the confessional, you continued your clandestine meetings with Leon, just like back in the old days, except both of you were now wiser in covering your tracks. In public, you pretended not to know each other, yet shared furtive, longing glances when you were in the same vicinity. Sometimes, he would make an excuse to brush past you, his touch ghosting across the curve of your spine, your shoulders, the back of your hand to the tip of your pinkie finger. Away from prying eyes, you hooked up passionately, damning each other further to hell. How many levels were there again? You’d lost count.

You enjoyed the moments spent with him. The aftercare and cuddling. The long talks into the night. You understood each other somehow, it wasn’t like this with other people. So, if the Day of Judgment arrived, why would God not sympathize with you both?

Despite that, neither of you had put a label on where you stood with each other. How did this secret relationship work? If you were found out, would he ditch you like before? Would you be thrown under the bus, so that he could be purified again? It wasn’t long until insecurity reared its ugly head, gnawing at you from within.

Leon sensed something was off as you lay in his arms, naked while he spooned you in the back seat of his car, parked along a desolate dirt path near the forest. You had that pensive look on your face, like you were in a world of your own, one where he couldn’t enter.

Pulling you close to him, he kissed the top of your shoulder, coaxing you out of your reverie. “Wanna talk about it?”

You hummed noncommittally. After a long pause, you asked, “Are you embarrassed by me?”

He was caught off-guard by the question and his breathing stilled. “No,” he argued. “Why would you think that?”

“I’m just tired of hiding,” you sighed. “It’s like I’m making you do something bad.”

There was a brief ache in his chest, as guilt swelled up like a wave. Coward, an inner voice spat.

Carding his fingers through your hair, he pressed his lips against the temple of your head. “You make me feel like the best version of myself.”

“Hm.” You pinched your lips together, wanting to believe him, but you weren’t convinced.

He observed this, but decided not to press the issue any further, knowing that you needed action, not words.

She’ll be your downfall. A surly voice piped up within him, like fire and brimstone. He shook it off, ignoring the moral tug-of-war that had occurred once he made that statement, as he vowed to prove himself to you in the coming days.

━━━━━━━━━━━

The next time you’d agreed to meet was in church, after the very last Mass of the day. He was serving as an altar boy again, and you were intrigued as to whether he had planned to reenact the entire confessional scene or switch it up with something new, like making you go through the Stations of the Cross while fucking you. You giggled at the idea, only to be shushed by a fellow parishioner, whom you had disturbed in meditative prayer.

When Mass ended and everyone except yourself had left the nave, you waited patiently for him in the pews. After a while, you felt a tap on your shoulder and turned around to face Leon, who had changed into his casual clothes. As you got to your feet, he cupped the sides of your face in his hands, closing the distance, and bringing your lips to meet his in a fervent kiss. You were slightly taken aback by his initiation, since he was usually the shyer one out of the two of you.

Claiming your hand in his, he led you to the front, where the altar stood before the austere crucifix that hung from the wall. He smirked, noticing the look of shock and incredulity on your face, as it gradually began to dawn on you what he had in mind. However, he was anxious too, you could tell from the way his hand was trembling. He was sealing his fate, and you were both going down together. Nothing could bring you back after this ultimate act of blasphemy.

At the foot of the altar, he caressed his lips against yours. “I guess God is our witness now.”

Leaning in, you found yourselves consumed in a lip lock, which deepened with each passing second as you helped each other out of your clothes, kicking them off unceremoniously to the side. He spun you around, bending you forward against the smooth, marble top of the altar. The cold surface caused your nipples to harden and goosebumps to form on your skin. You shivered as he spread your legs wider apart and knelt down, holding your thighs as he licked a firm stripe along your silken folds.

As he continued to lap at the sensitive flesh, he brought a hand towards your clit, stroking it softly with his middle finger. You jerked from the sensation, whimpering as he alternated between thrusting his tongue into your heat and suckling it with his lips. There was a slight pressure as you felt one of his fingers sliding into your pussy, already soaked with arousal. At the same time, his tongue trailed up towards your rim, teasing it with long, flat licks.

“Oh my god!” You gasped, gripping the edge of the altar, as an electrifying tingle coursed through your veins.

There was a playful smack on your ass. “Forgotten the Third Commandment already?” Leon scolded.

“Huh?”

“Taking the Lord’s name in vain,” he mimicked your tone from when you had teased him at the confessional.

“Ugh,” you whined. “I’m sure this is the least of our concerns.”

You felt his hot breath against your asshole before he dipped his tongue in lightly. Simultaneously, he pumped your pussy, pushing in another finger and stretching you out, before his tongue went back to circling around your rim, inciting a string of moans from your mouth.

“Feeling good?”

“Mm, yes,” you replied hoarsely. “But when are you going to fuck me?”

He coughed out a laugh at your bluntness, before imparting a piece of unsolicited advice. “Patience is a virtue.”

You groaned at his quip. “Really, Leon? Are you-”

He interrupted rudely, pressing his hand on your back as he entered you, burying his cock deep into your cunt. You nearly screamed in ecstasy as he pounded his hips against your ass repeatedly, already setting a brutal pace from the beginning. Maybe you should’ve been careful of what you wished for.

“What was that again?” He taunted.

You growled, clenching your jaw as you felt his dick dragging against your sensitive walls. The lewd sound of skin slapping against skin echoed across the space. Your mind fogged up in an insatiable haze as you pushed back rhythmically against his thrusting, allowing him to penetrate you further, and taking pleasure in how his head brushed against your cervix with each stroke.

“So close,” you rasped, your core tightening as if it was about to burst.

At this, he pulled away briefly, flipping you over as he lifted you onto the altar top. He had a bruising grip around your thighs, which you wrapped around his waist instinctively, interlocking your ankles behind his back to draw him closer. Bewitched, he took a moment to drink in the divine sight of your flushed, moist body, supple and wanting in his arms, before kissing you sloppily on the mouth. Pressing his forehead against yours, he asserted, “You don’t know what you do to me, angel.”

With that, he rutted into you relentlessly, your breasts bouncing as you clung to the back of his neck, crying out in rapture. When you finally snapped, a glimmer from the gold cross necklace he wore daily flashed before your eyes. You looped your index finger around it, tugging at it as you peered up at the bleeding face of Christ looking down at you ominously from the crucifix. The last remains of the day’s light filtered through the stained glass behind him, casting a kaleidoscope of mottled colors across your bodies, the altar and the stone floor, like a disease.

You realized you had tempted Leon beyond salvation. But in spite of it, he had followed you willingly. This was the proof he had wanted to show you. You were the angel he would desecrate everything for. He’d cut your wings off so you’d be his and stay.

His cock throbbed with desire as he rode you through your orgasm. As he neared the edge, he pulled out, finishing himself off. Nuzzling his face into your neck, he murmured a mixture of curses and professions against your skin, while spurting hot white cum over the mound of your pussy. Holding onto the marbled structure for support, he bent over you, placing tender kisses on your eyes and your lips.

It seemed as if he had turned his back on God and worshiped you now. But instead of a guilty conscience, you felt nothing but love. Silently, both of you cleaned up and got dressed. He delicately reattached the butterfly clip that had come loose in your hair, while you wiped away the lipstick that had smudged onto his face. There would be no signs of what had transpired, except he had another surprise lined up for you.

Upon exiting the church doors, Leon took your hand, lacing his fingers through yours, as you walked out onto the street together. You were his - he’d show you off to the whole damn world without shame.

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy fluff #religious au #church au #resident evil #fic: heavenly creatures #porcelainscribbles

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lqfiles · 1 year ago

Text

SCORE THAT GOAL! — smau

after your college had announced that all the students were required to join a club and attend it twice a week, you were planning on either a) dropping out, or b) join the art club and pretend to be sick most of the times. that was before you discovered that park jisung is a long time member of the football team. change in plans: you LOVE football.

or in which you mindlessly join the football club in hopes of catching your crush’s attention (and to maybe secretly check him out too) who cares if you can’t even kick a ball up in the air?

football-player!jisung x fem!reader

genre ; rlly just humour, football / sports au, fluff, some angst, pining and eventually mutual pining, probably slow-burn, college au, strangers to lovers.

extras ; teasing and profanity | sexual and death jokes | reader is down bad | jisung kinda dislikes reader and closed off at the start | my knowledge on football isn’t the BEST but i know above basics and enough for this fic | idrc if some of these subject clubs don’t exist this is for entertainment 😸

notes ; 😭 mostly posting this for myself cos i’ve wanted to try a smau for a while now but i hope anyone else enjoys too.

PLAYLIST ; Rising , TripleS — Hype Boy , newjeans — Awkward , SZA — Gasoline , ROSY (FT. LILMONEY) — Attracted To You , Pinkpantheress — Cognac Queen , Megan Thee Stallion — Goodie Bag , Still Woozy — Eyedress , Something About You .

STATUS ; completed! (24.02.24)

profiles (1) | profiles (2)

1 ) donghyuck’s fault

2 ) 20% more insane

3 ) it’s the voices again

4 ) yes captain!

5 ) invest in a priv account

6 ) peach lipton ice tea

7 ) no suicide EVER

8 ) always believe women

9 ) grape & lemon drink

10 ) favourite teammate

11 ) wingman

12 ) jeno’s food provider

13 ) no lunch

14 ) awkward tension

15 ) a simple conversation

16 ) an even more normal conversation

17 ) under my umbrella

18 ) a canon event (ft. Renjun's Black Friday offer)

19 ) feeling submissive and fragile

20 ) woman hobbies & failed courseworks

21 ) man up and break it

22 ) make-up brush vs subway sandwich

23 ) OFFICIAL FRIENDSHIP!!!

24 ) a nice gesture

25 ) NOT my boyfriend

26 ) business exchange

27 ) what about mark?

28 ) winter wonders with you

29 ) JISUNG vs MARK

30 ) my princess (very lame)

31 ) riddle me this

32 ) do you like her? (probably)

33 ) wtf does QUORA know?

34 ) JISUNGxY/N: plan A

35 ) evil out the way, GOOD RIDDANCE

36 ) basketball incidents.

37 ) JISUNGxY/N: plan B (the jisung quiz)

38 ) E-DATING 🔛🔝🔥

39 ) wise words from renjun

40 ) that one sign

41 ) guess it’s a date

42 ) (unofficial) couple goals

43 ) the y/nle argument

44 ) professional over-thinker

45 ) executing major girlboss energy

46 ) the confession prep

47 ) knock some sense into them

48 ) war is over

49 ) knock some sense into JISUNG

50 ) an overdue confession

51 ) be your boyfriend?

52 ) scored that goal!

BONUS:

jisung the blonde

JISUNG vs MARK pt.2

jaemin’s hit tweets

the jeno quiz

one huge polyamory relationship

rating my boyfriend’s hair colours

thank you for reading!

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deadghosy · 9 months ago

Note

Ive just been reading your Lucifer big sister headcanons, and thier so so so so good, i love how you wrote it🥰. What about Lucifer with a little sister? Any thoughts? How different would he treat her? Maybe she fell at the same time as him and Lucifer blames himself for leading his sister down the same path as him. I can seen him being a protective older brother because come on their in hell surrounded by sinners its got to be stressful even tho she isnt weak what so ever but Lucifer can help but baby his sweet little sister.

(Obviously no pressure to write this)

Have a nice day 😁👋

As a younger sibling, I was gonna make this as I made the elder sister! So I’m glad you asked this as I can’t help but love to make this version. 🦆 sorry if it’s long, I just had fun making this🔥

YOUNGER SISTER! READER X PLATONIC HAZBIN HOTEL

Prompt: you are the younger sister of Lucifer Morningstar who fell along her older brother.

Dead ass you fell on top of Lucifer when you both fell from heaven.

“Groannsss….GET OFF!” Lucifer yells pushing you off him. You huffed getting off him as you dust yourself.

I headcannon reader to have a slight rebellious attitude sometimes like Adam but she’s not as terrible.

Like reader has a shirt that says “kiss my ass” with a kiss mark on the shirt as she puts up a rock gesture 🤟

Lucifer found your shirt and burned it, he can’t have his baby sister have such an inappropriate shirt!

“LU-LU! NOOO MY SHIRTTT” “THIS SHIRT IS NASTY LITTLE SIS!-”

He put his hand to your face to keep you away as he burned it. It was a funny sight as you huffed kicking him in his nuts as he groaned falling face first to the ground.

I also headcannon that reader is the reason why Charlie had a emo phase as reader kinda has a different aesthetic than Lucifer.

But on a serious note, Lucifer was kinda scared when you fell with him as he puts his hand through his hair watching you sleep. He couldn’t believe he brought his baby sister with him on his down fall. He knew he influenced you as you looked up to him more than the other angels. It was like if you were his child, his baby.

But he tucks you in bed as you were sprawled out in your bed snoring loudly. He chuckles kissing your head and leaving your room as he closes your door with a slight sad look.

Back to the funny sibling things, you are definitely the one who sneaks in the kitchen to take his leftovers for payback. After Lucifer walks out of his workshop tired and hungry.

You basically told him to take care of himself more. He walked in the kitchen to find his leftovers gone. So you could tell what happened next.

“Y/NNNNN!” You heard a fierce yell as you had shoved the food down your mouth and ran as you heard a loud flapping of wings behind you. “WHEN I CATCH YOU, YOU BETTER PRAY!”

It’s was so cartoony at how Lucifer chases you while you ran for you life. You have wings but he flys better than you so it’s no use.

He caught you, making you cook dinner for a month as you groan while he smirks patting a duck like a mafia man. “And you better wash the dishes too-” “NOW YOU ASKIN' TOOO MUCHHH!”

But soon the sinners came and made the freedom Lucifer gave them, turn into pure hell as you watch worried at the stress your older brother had. Lucifer tries to smile to show you it’s not affecting him, but it is.

He soon makes you stay all time in the palace, scared for your safety as you stay in your room worried at how isolated he soon becomes. Charlie would walk around babbling about you as she kept your company. You smile at your cute niece giving her boops to her nose.

I also headcannon you and Lucifer are like secret twins as you both hyper fixate about a lot of things like [favorite thing] as he hyper fixates on ducks and gives you his ducks to show off how cool he is as your older brother.

But also I can see reader being shorter than Lucifer, like to his shoulder as Lucifer blinks like a frog as you smile with an evil gremlin ready to stab someone.

But now for some overprotective brother headcannons.

You know how Lucifer when to see Charlie at her hotel, you joined wearing basically a female version of Lucifer’s outfit. But you wore shades to off your ✨coolness✨

Alastor was irritated at your louder personality but you also had a charming aura around you like how Lucifer has his prideful smile. Alastor smirks down at you as you are shorter than Lucifer, he kisses your hand with made you just stand there with a dotted blank expression.

Immediately Lucifer picks you up like a doll as he growls at Alastor like a dog ready to chump his hand off. He knew the radio demon just wanted to piss him off, so the whole time you were in the hotel with him. He always has you close and behind him from the radio demon.

Now if it was a sinner trying to court you, they better hope you don’t snitch like the young sibling you are. Cause ohhhh boy! Lucifer is teleporting to their house to give them nightmares. Maybe even killing them if they made you uncomfortable.

Heaven and hell agrees you are a cutie, demon or angel. Cause in heaven there were angels trying to court you but your brother was always behind you looking stern as he puff his chest trying to see if they suit you best.

Like literally he scares people off as you stand there minding your business.

“I feel a disturbance in the air…” Lucifer says as he was reading a book but pulls the curtains to see an angel trying to court you with their wings.

Immediately you’re being teleported to your room confused as a duck poofs in your hand.

“What the fuckkkk….” You say confused

#lucifer morningstar #lucifer magne #lucifer #hazbin hotel lucifer x reader #lucifer morningstar x reader #fluff #hazbin hotel fluff #platonic Lucifer Morningstar #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x female reader #younger sister #young sibling activities #sister reader #young readers #hazbin lucifer #hazbin hotel x platonic!reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel headcanons #hazbin hotel x you

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corpsebasil · 2 years ago

Text

Sleepy -> pure Ethan fluff here

Ethan’s best friend likes him more than she’ll admit, and he has a habit of sleeping on her.

Tara caught you the first time it happened.

You were at Ethan and Chad’s dorm, studying for your Econ exam with Tara, when you’d found yourself curled up against Ethan, head in his lap, dozing away from boredom.

“Look how cute.” Tara whispered to Chad, pointing her pen at the two of you. Ethan’s head had fallen back to rest against the wall, his eyes closed as the two of you slept.

The next time was at the Halloween party. This time it was Ethan, exhausted from the alcohol and the noise, that had sat next to you on the couch beside Anika and Mindy. And when his head had moved to lay against your shoulder, his breaths slowing as he found comfort in your presence, you’d had to shush Mindy so she wouldn’t wake him up with her loud gossiping.

Most recently, you’d been found by Chad, curled up together under the covers in Ethan’s bed, his arm slung over your waist as your head burrowed in the space between his neck and shoulder.

No one in your friend group understood why the two of you weren’t together. It made no sense—you were always attached at the hip and, whenever you hung out, you always inevitably seemed to be napping with one another. For Ethan, it was because he was constantly stressed, and with you he could relax, breathing in the scent of your perfume and running tentative hands over your soft skin. For you, it was…

Well, you weren’t entirely sure.

So when you began receiving messages from your friend’s shared group-chat you gave a wary glance to Ethan where he laid curled up in a ball beside you, his head in your lap.

Core Four

Chad: Alright Y/N, spill the tea. What’s going on w you and E?

Chad: That rhymed

Chad: lol

Y/N: nothings going on why?

Tara: surrrre

Tara: *image*

Tara: looks like a whole lot of ‘nothing’

Y/N: stopppp when did you take that??

Chad: what the HELLL 🔥🔥🔥

Y/N: Tara delete that pls

Tara: no I’m making it my lock screen 😏

Chad: I thought I was your lock screen

Mindy: As long as his Ghostface ass stays away from me I don’t care who he naps with. Next subject.

Chad: don’t be boring

Y/N: *left groupchat*

Tara: noooo

You sighed, turning off your phone and chucking it to the end of the bed before running your nails absentmindedly through Ethan’s curls. Truth was, you did like your friend. You just didn’t know how to tell him.

“Y/N.” Ethan grumbled, lifting his head a fraction as he blinked sleepily. “What’s going…on?”

“Hey, Sleepy.” You smiled down at him, then squeaked when he wrapped his arms around your waist and tugged you under the covers next to him, his head moving to rest on your stomach. “E, what the—”

“Just go to sleep, please.” He grumbled, voice drowsy. “Need your…” he trailed off and your face flushed, but you made yourself comfortable, resting a hand against his head as you relaxed, your eyes slowly closing.

“Come on.” Tara was urging, watching as you did your makeup and ignored her. “Just get together all ready I’m sick of this.”

“He’s my friend, Tare.” You argued, raising a brow at her in the vanity mirror. “It’s not like that.”

“Really?” She asked, flouncing over. “Because I heard that Chad says he likes you.”

“Chad likes me?” You asked, confused, and Tara rolled her eyes.

“No dumbass. Ethan likes you.”

You blinked at her for a moment before shaking your head.

“I call bullshit.”

“What kind of friends nap together all the time?” She pushed, approaching to crouch on the floor beside you, crossing her arms and resting them on your legs. “I mean—come on. Come on. The boy can’t keep his hands off you.”

“That’s bull—” your phone rang and you both jumped. You reached out but Tara grabbed it first and you yelped, diving for the brunette as she giggled and ran, answering the call.

“Hey Sleepy.” She cooed, reading off Ethan’s contact name. She shot you a wink as your face burned. “What’s—” she paused. Then she looked at you, a curious expression on her face. “Yeah, yeah. She’s here, hold on.” Tara passed you the phone and you snatched it away, heartbeat quickening as you answered.

“Hello?”

“Y/N.” Ethan’s voice met your ear and you tensed. He sounded…sad? Distressed? “Can you come over? Please?”

“Why what happened?” You asked, already standing up. Screw it, you’d take your makeup wipes with you and remove your half-finished look. Tara was watching you, looking a bit worried, as she handed you your purse.

“I don’t know I just…can you just come?”

“Yeah. Yeah, E.” You said, listening to the phone click as you looked to Tara. “What did he say to you?”

“Nothing he—he kind of sounded like…like he was crying or something. All he said was ‘Tara, give me Y/N please.’” She paused. “Is he okay, or—?”

“I don’t know. I’m sorry for leaving. Dunkin in the morning?”

“Yeah. Yeah.”

So you left, going to Ethan’s dorm as fast as you could. You knew Chad was out with Mindy and Anika, and assumed that that’s why Ethan had called. But why did he sound so…upset?

You used your spare key that Ethan had made you to enter, knocking first, then pushed inside. When you got to Ethan’s room you saw him sitting with his head in his hands, but he soon looked up at you. His expression was pained and you felt a stab of anxiety run through you.

“What’s wrong?” You asked, setting your stuff down as you moved to him, sitting down beside your friend.

“I um..” he trailed off, looking at you then away. “this is embarrassing. I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s fine.” You said, reaching out to rub his back. “Tell me what happened.” Baby. You’d almost called him baby at the end of that sentence. You were insanely glad that you hadn’t.

“I have night terrors.” He said after a weighted pause, his eyes shifting to yours. “I cant sleep sometimes. When I’m alone I—I just…I just toss and turn. Everything freaks me out I don’t like to be alone.”

Your eyebrows furrowed as you looked at him.

“Night terrors? About what?”

“Well,” his face turned a shade of pink and he looked away. “well I was trying to go to bed and then I saw you and—” he paused, breath hitching, and you felt your chest tighten. “It’s fine. You’re here now, right? You’re fine.” He seemed to be trying to convince himself, his eyes darting across your face like he wasn’t sure this was real, and something in you cracked.

“Is that why you’re always so tired with me?” You asked, frowning. “Because you cant sleep alone?”

“No.” He said, and you stared at him in confusion, but he cut you off before you could speak. “I sleep with you because I feel…safe with you.” He seemed embarrassed again and glanced down at his hands. “I don’t feel comfortable with anyone else. Not like—not like you..” he sighed and blinked up at the ceiling, seeming to fight back a wince. “Im totally weirding you out right now, aren’t I.”

You watched him for a moment, contemplative, before you kicked off your shoes. He could only stare as you moved to the opposite side of his bed and shoved your shorts off, left in a huge t-shirt curtesy of Ethan himself.

“It’s not weird.” You said, slipping under the covers, and smacked the mattress next to you. He still stared, and you rolled your eyes. “Come on, E. Get in the bed.”

A hesitant laugh left him as he did so, climbing in beside you. It was muscle memory, at this point: your head on his chest, his arm around your waist, pulling you into him. You felt his soft breaths on your hair as you settled, adjusting into the familiarity of his body as you rested.

“You know I care about you, right?” Ethan asked into the darkness, his thumb brushing soft strokes against your waist. “Like..more than anyone.”

You smiled against him.

“Are you saying you have a crush on me, Sleepy?” You teased, and he startled you by instantly saying, “Yeah”.

You sat up a bit, looking at him, and you could’ve sworn his cheeks had gone red. You brushed his hair away from his forehead and ran your fingers across his cheek, your head tilting.

“Then do something about it.” You whispered, feeling his chest rise and fall beneath you, before he lowered his head and pressed his mouth to yours.

Core Four

Chad: Y/N?

Chad: Y/N I know you’re getting these messages. I added you back to the groupchat a week ago.

Y/N: what do you want

Chad: my BOY over here says he’s going to his GIRLFRIENDS HOUSE TO WATCH A MOVIE

Chad: WHICH?? GIRLFRIEND???

Tara: WHAT

Mindy: Ew.

Y/N: he has a girlfriend?

Chad: …

Chad: it’s not you??? he just left the house like an hour ago

Y/N: why would you think it’s me??

Chad: BECAUSE

Tara: nooo my fave ship

Mindy: Thank God.

Y/N: *image*

Y/N: idk what movie he was planning on watching because this man is out like a fuckin light

Tara: AHHHHHHHHHHHJOANASKNKSN

Chad: WHAT THE HEEEEEELLLLLL🔥🔥🔥🦅🦅🦅🦅🦅

Mindy: I hate you all.

#ethan landry #ethan landry fanfiction #ethan landry oneshot #ethan landry x reader #scream six #tara carpenter #Chad meeks Martin #mindy meeks martin #scream 6

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jobean12-blog · 1 month ago

Text

Burn for You

Pairing: Marcus Acacius x female reader

Word Count: 2.2K

Summary: Even though you know Marcus would protect you with his very last breath you still want to learn to defend yourself but what will your husband say when you ask him to teach you?

Author's Note: Just another little story in our happy world where everyone is on the same side and friends haha. This is a stand alone story that I couldn't resist after seeing the new snippets from the movie- and then Pedro himself posts the sword gif and I died all over again. How dare he? It's so hot🔥🫠Thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics thank you Daisy! 🥰

Warnings: fun and flirty and tense, he's always soft and perfect, semi public sex, smut, they just can't get enough of each other.

Pedro Pascal Character Masterlist

The gold trimmed linen falls over his bare skin, and you smooth your hands down his chest to straighten it.

“When are you going to teach me how to wield a sword General?”

You reach for the fascia, gently placing it over his leg before starting to secure it. When his silence drags on you look up from your kneeling position.

“Are you trying to think of some filthy thing to say right now?” you tease. “I am on my knees.”

The corner of his mouth lifts into a mischievous smirk.

“If I didn’t know how much you loved being in that position, I might have something more to say…”

“But…” you finish for him as you slowly slide up his body and meet his eyes.

“Your question has surprised me.”

You take his cuirass and press it to his chest with more force than is necessary.

“And why is that husband?” you ask through clenched teeth.

As you begin to tug on the leather strings at his sides he grabs both your wrists, grasping them in one hand and pulling you against his chest, while the fingers of his other press under your chin and hold your gaze to his.

“You think I do not believe you capable?” he asks with his brows drawn in.

“Why else would you not teach me?” you huff.

“Like my heart, body and soul, you have my sword until my last breath and forever after,” he whispers against your lips.

Your expression softens and you press your fingertips to his jaw, delicately tracing the scar just above the dark hair that lines his cheek.

“I know Marcus…”

“But…” he says, echoing your earlier sentiment.

“I wish to learn. I am strong. And I want to be able to defend myself.”

He remains quiet still, releasing your wrists and smoothing his calloused fingers along the curve of your shoulder.

“I could ask Lucius instead…” you start to muse.

“You will not,” he growls.

“He may not have the same reservations you have…whatever they may be.”

Your tone is cheeky as you press yourself closer to him, dancing your fingers down his side to give the leather straps of his cuirass a sharp tug.

He grunts lightly before his lips turn up into a smile.

“As you wish my love,” he murmurs. “I will teach you to wield a weapon.”

“Excellent,” you whisper, loosening your grip and reaching for the Manica to adorn his forearms.

He stops you with a firm hand and you raise a brow.

“On one condition…”

“And what is that?” you ask.

“You will train with me and only me. No other will come near you, touch you.”

“Of course,” you say with a lift of your chin. “Only you.”

He dips his head, the tip of his nose brushing yours as he presses you against his body.

“How much time do we have?” he mumbles, kissing you, chaste and soft.

He pulls back, licks his lips, and moves forward again, moaning softly against your mouth.

“Marcus,” you chide but it’s lacking vigor, coming out breathier and desperate.

When his hips rock you feel him, hard and ready and it’s like someone lights a match inside your chest and you curl your fingers into the edges of his cuirass and push him back toward the wall.

The draped fabric at your waist falls open and you gasp as cool air finds your skin where you’re wet and aching.

His roughened palm slides down your stomach and his fingers slip between your legs.

“Want to taste this,” he whispers, dragging the tip of his fingers in and out.

“Ah General Acacius. So good of you to grace us with your presence,” Lucius jokes, his eyes twinkling.

The other men stifle their laughter, clearing throats and shuffling feet when Marcus glares at them menacingly.

You step out from behind Marcus and smile at Lucius, whose surprised expression quickly transforms into one of mischief.

“Do we have a new trainee today General?” Lucius asks with a smirk.

Marcus ignores him and deftly twirls the sword between his fingers as he walks along the row of gladiators.

“My wife…, he begins, “wishes to learn how to fight.”

You can see that the men are trying to restrain their shock, and you meet each of their gazes, holding your head high and your shoulders poised.

“You will not touch her or even come near her,” he continues. “She will train with me and only me.”

Marcus turns his covetous eyes to you, dragging them over every inch of your skin that glistens under the warm sun.

With a hard swallow he gets into position and instructs the men on what to practice, giving Lucius control of the group so he can work with you.

“That will keep them busy for now,” he says quietly as he moves toward you, circling.

He stops behind you, pressing his chest to your back and slowly sliding his hand down from your shoulder to your wrist. Despite the heat, goosebumps crawl along your skin, and you feel his smile at your neck.

“Focus my beloved,” he murmurs. “You will not win any fights if you are distracted.”

The urge to throw your elbow back and into his side is strong but you refrain and strengthen your wrist.

He places the sword in your hand and maneuvers your fingers into the right position, keeping his hand over yours as he shows you the proper grip.

Every word of command is whispered into your ear and every touch of his hand is both soft and firm. Even with his impressive size and strength, he moves lithely, easily disarming you at every turn.

It frustrates you, motivates you but more than anything, and to your utter exasperation, it arouses you.

“Marcus.” You call his name while in a particularly precarious position and he quickly stands and takes you with him, his gaze concerned as it sweeps over your body.

“Are you hurt?” he asks.

“No,” you say with a dismissive wave of your hand.

He waits for you to elaborate and you step closer. “Perhaps you should work with the men now. I think Lucius bores them.”

His lips tilt upward at your teasing, but he continues to study you carefully.

“Do you need a break then?”

“Perhaps I can work on my stance with Lucius,” you suggest.

His eyes narrow. “We made a deal.”

“I know,” you tell him with a quiet sigh.

Then with resignation you throw back your shoulders and get into position. “I’m ready to continue.”

His body heat at your back sends another wave of tension through your body and when his calloused fingertips ghost along your thigh to fix its position you have to fight back a gasp.

“Relax your muscles,” he says as he presses on your shoulders and lower back.

You let out a slow exhale and try to focus on his direction instead of his touch, but the way his voice is low and deep in your ear drags you right back to your lascivious thoughts.

When he’s satisfied with your positioning he moves in front of you, twirling his sword tauntingly and though his forearms are hidden under the armor adorning his wrists you know the muscles flex and shift enticingly.

He beckons to you, and you advance, remembering the foot work well and making good use of your sword.

But before you can make any real progress he has you on your back and beneath him, the sandy dirt rising and floating around your head as you stare up into his face.

“You are doing well,” he assures you, sensing your frustration. “Remember, it is only your first day.”

Sweat coats his brow and you watch a droplet roll down his temple and along the line of his beard. It settles on his upper lip and the desire to lean up and kiss him is overwhelming. His scent surrounds you, sweat and leather, and his touch burns.

“Marcus,” you breathe out.

“My love,” he answers, pushing up and offering you a hand.

You crash into his chest, your eyes dropping to his mouth and your lips parting. “I need you.”

It takes him only a split second to realize the meaning of your words and his head dips to your ear, his growl full of promise.

“Do you need me to fill you my love?”

You barely get your words of affirmation out when he grabs your hand and pulls you away from the training circle.

“Lucius, you can finish off the training for today. I have to see…to my wife.”

Your quarters are too far away, and you tell him so, letting him lead you to an underground alcove in the basilica nearby.

He kisses you until your back hits the cold stone wall and you can feel every inch of armor and cloth that separates your bodies.

His hands grip your face, thumbs pressing urgently into your skin as he kisses you until you’re lightheaded.

Few rays of sunlight pierce the recesses below and you’re bathed in a soft darkness, hidden, but with the sounds of the world going on right above you.

It reminds you that there are other people on this Earth beyond his kisses, his frantic hands, and the way he can’t seem to get you close enough.

Your armor becomes untied, and you reach under his, tugging at whatever you can find to loosen it. Cloth and linen floats to your feet and his fingers skim the curve of your waist, dipping between your legs.

“Fingers Marcus,” you gasp.

He swears, two fingers sliding deep.

Your hips rock into his hand and you hold onto his broad shoulders, on the edge of something that starts in your stomach and slips up along your spine.

You cry out, too loud and breathing so heavy you might pass out.

“I’m so close Marcus,” you whisper. “I want you inside me.”

His eyes lift from between your legs, and you take him in; messy curls, fallen over his damp forehead and sticking to it, his body shining with a light sheen of sweat and dust clinging to his skin.

You almost come at the sight of him. He feels you tighten around his fingers and pulls them free with another curse.

His knee parts your legs and you feel the head of his cock as it slides through you and you’re so wet that with just the smallest push forward he starts to slip inside.

With a grunt, he tucks his head into your neck, takes deep, steadying breaths.

“I need a moment,” he murmurs and holds your hips still.

He straightens, reaching a hand over your shoulder to brace it on the stone wall.

“You feel too good,” he whispers, pulling out and pushing back in slowly. “Too perfect.”

He builds a rhythm, hips rocking against yours, the sound of his armor thudding into yours as he fucks you.

His hand reaches up, holds your face as his thumb traces your lips, the taste of you lingering on his fingers.

“I want to watch you come,” he says, dark eyes moving across your face.

You wrap your arms around his neck, the muscles strained and tight with his restraint, pulling him harder to you.

“Say it,” he growls.

“I want it harder.”

His lips brush yours and he nibbles the lower one, tugging and then soothing with his tongue.

“And…?” he asks, knowing there’s more you want to say. More that you need.

“I want someone to hear us. I want them to know how good you feel.”

He grunts and grips your waist tightly before he starts slamming hard and slick into you.

Voices echo above, the sounds of feet and horse hooves growing louder.

“More Marcus,” you cry out.

You feel so full and stretched and the tight feeling in your stomach grows warmer and hotter until your head falls back against the stone, and you moan out his name as you come.

He follows right after, his movements becoming jagged and frantic before finally stilling with a muffled groan into your skin.

You lean into him, catching your breath and letting your fingers wander over the dips and curves of muscle in his back.

He lifts his head and immediately searches for your mouth, sealing his lips to yours.

When he pulls back his eyes are ablaze, and a smile pulls at his lips.

“What?” you ask, trembling when his fingertips skim along your collarbone, strong but gentle.

They ghost higher, to the hollow of your throat where your pulse beats wildly still, before closing lightly around your neck.

Your breath hitches.

“Was it the fighting that aroused you so?” he asks, pressing his thumb under your chin while he still holds your neck. “Or…?”

You swallow and lick your lips.

“You know what it was General,” you whisper.

“I want to hear you say it.”

He’s still inside you and he starts to thicken, the throb making your eyelashes flutter along your cheeks.

“You, General. It is you. Always you that fills me with an unquenchable need.”

“Then it is a good thing my hunger for you will never be sated,” he whispers as he begins to slowly rock his hips.

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