#so despite wanting to eat more i refuse to go any closer to the apple core

[starlyte-writes]

Desperately eating an apple in an attempt to avoid puking rn

[abyssalwyrm0]

Lucifer and Cain have a talk.

Lucifer: "Did Adam ever abuse you?" He sks his son, trying to put an end to this silence.

Lilith left them alone to have a talk, meanwhile she was talking care of the royal duties for the two of them. She knows Lucifer need to have a talk with his long-lost son so she can wait to have her turn with her stepchild that in another life she could have called son and she would be saw by him as his mother as Eve. Too bad that the world was cruel for everyone.

Cain: "No, but he never pretended to be my father. Adam raised me but let clear from early on that I wasn't his son, even when I was too young to understand. For him I was a constant reminder that his second wife cheated on him with his ex and the angel she ran away with." The First Murderer says, still looking up at heaven in the red sky of hell. "After I killed Abel, he said to me my face in front to mom and the angels that he regret don't having crushed me on a rock when I was a newborn before I could harm any of his sons." He clenches his fists and Lucifer looks horrified for a moment, rage sparking in his heart.

Lucifer: "You didn't deserve it, Cain. You deserved to have a father, I wanted to be a father but I didn't even know you were my child until you appeared here....and your stepmother is having troubles in giving birth....no one of your siblings survived until now." The Devil looks to the floor as he thinks about how he wasn't present on Cain's life and Lilith's curse given by his own family.

Cain: "I thought it too for a long time as I saw how much Adam loved Abel and his other children on his own way. I was so envious, nothing I did made him accept me as his own. My mother also tried to make us get closer, but this only got him angrier with her and then they fought more." He remembers their fights.

Lucifer: "How Eve was....after me and Lilith were banished? We lost contact with our Evening Star after giving her the Apple. You know, planned to make official our relationship and live in our own corner of Eden, if not somewhere else, but everything quickly went to hell after we unleashed Evil."

Cain: "Bad but it could be worse. Adam wasn't abusive with her either if you're thinking about it, but he held a grudge for having lost everything and being stuck with mother and me on Earth. She tried to make things work between them; so he did too begrudgingly out of a sense of duty, pragmatism.....and also because he was afraid to be alone. I hate Adam, but also pity him." He remembers how miserably he was with Eve.

The Mother of Humanity actually tried to make things easier between them. It was out of some feeling of love she still felt for him despite everything or just pity? Who knows, Cain didn't really understand even now what his mother and stepfather felt for each other and honestly? Regardless of what Eve really feel for him, Adam doubt and refuse to consider the possibility she trully love him because he knows that like him if she could chose she would have left.

Lucifer: "Did your mother ever talked about me and Lilith?"

Cain: "No more than Adam who was cursing your names constantly. After I was old enough to understand things better, my mother had a talk with me in which she told about her story with you and Lilith."

Lucifer: "Did she regret us? "

Cain: "She feel regreat but not remorse. My mother told me that despite everything if she could go back in time she would still eat the Apple, I don't know if she changed her mind after I killed Abel..... I never saw so much rage in her eyes before. I think she hates me now." It hurts him the mere thought.

The way how Eve looked at him, Adam and the angels as she cried, hugging tightly Abel's body, haunted Cain up to this day.

Lucifer: "I see." He reflects for a moment. "Heh, she and Lilith are more similar than people give them credit. " He says with a little of humor, wondering like Cain if Eve hates him and Lilith now.

[threejadesoflan]

xu xinyi was a reserved man, he rarely shared details about himself - mainly because he saw no need. there was nothing notable about him, not from his perspective. he only revealed information if he was questioned. he rarely offered it freely. 

but this time, he wanted to. 

« i was a boy, then, before the sunshot campaign. » despite the weight of the conversation he had started, he was still calm. sitting across from wei xuanyu, his expression sometimes shifted from the discomfort of his vulnerability, but he continued steadfastly. 

« zǔfù and i were witnesses to the slaughter of a minor sect who refused to bow. i was beaten as punishment for trying to protect a family. »

his hands stuttered, interrupting his explanation as he swallowed thickly. something was swimming in his eyes, but he continued.

« one of the cultivators crushed my neck beneath his boot. i barely survived my injuries. from then on, i couldn’t speak. zǔfù helped me develop this language, and i had to learn how to eat and breathe. i learned the hard way that my anger would only serve to hurt myself, so i learned to forgive. »

When Xu Xinyi's hands come up and start signing, Wei Xuanyu looks up from where he's cleaning and polishing his dizi (a daily activity that Laozu-Jun has drilled into both him and Yuan). Their quiet time together is precious to him, but it's rare that Xinyi starts talking out of nowhere. It must be something serious.

It is. The silence that surrounds them as Xinyi tells his story is neither disquietening nor oppressive, but it holds something uncomfortable as Xuanyu watches his hands and face intently so he can catch every minute inflection and meaning. The story is short, but horrifying. This is why Xinyi can't speak, why everything involving his throat is painful and tense for him, why people look at him with pity and disdain when they realise he either signs or writes to communicate.

(Even though Xinyi communicates so much more in so many ways. The way he looks at people or things, his little gestures, the little twitches his mouth or his eyes do, his posture and the way he holds his sword, the strings he plucks on his guqin. Xinyi communicates in so many ways that don't require his voice, it just takes someone to care and look to realise it.)

Normally, Xuanyu would respond with signs if Xinyi starts with signs. It keeps the vocabulary fresh for him, and it just feels more right. Yuan once said something about it meaning neither of them has to switch registers from signs to spoken words, but it's too complex for Xuanyu to really understand that. Regardless, this time he speaks as he reaches out and takes both Xinyi's hands in his own- effectively silencing him.

"I'm so sorry," he says. "That's horrible. They hurt you so badly for doing the right thing for innocent people... You didn't deserve that, none of it! Such monsters! They had no right!" He squeezes Xinyi's hands during his outburst, but quickly calms down and rubs his thumbs over the backs... before lifting his hands and placing them gently, oh so lightly, around Xinyi's neck as he leans closer to the scar they now frame.

"You're a good person. Better than I. I would have lost my mind if something like that happened to me. I could never let go of that pain..." he leans in even closer, his fingers resting on Xinyi's skin so lightly that the other could pull away with barely any effort if he wanted to, and presses a gentle kiss to his Adam's apple. "Thank you for telling me. You're so strong. So kind." He knows he's devolving into babbling, but he doesn't care. He thinks Xinyi should hear it, after baring a part of his soul like that, so he doesn't bother to filter. "I love you. I'm so proud you're in my life."

[redhoodieone]

His Girl Part 2

Warnings: Language, SMUT, heartbreak, and fluffiness.

“Jay…” Y/N breathes against Jason’s lips. Her eyes shift from his emerald eyes to his adorable pout. “You don’t want this with me. You shouldn’t want this with me.”

Jason pulls back from her and his face falls. The look of heartbreak pains Y/N, but she can’t help but feel the way she feels, because why would someone so attractive and perfect like Jason want with a short, chubby, and plain looking girl like her?

Jason lifts Y/N’s chin so they can see eye to eye. “I’ve wanted you since the day I met you. Sweetheart, when you first looked at me, I was done for. You know, I never believed in God. You know damn well I’m not the religious type, despite the jokes from the league who say I could have been a priest in another life,” he says with a small smile. He holds his hand up as if he’s taking an oath. “But I swear to God when I first saw you, I thought you were an angel. You stood there, you were lovely and gentle, and at that moment I knew something good had to exist in this fucked up world because you were brought into my life, and you made me want to be a better man...for you.”

“Dick’s right. He’s right about me. You don’t want me, Jay. I’m nothing special. I’m not beautiful. I’m not skinny. I’m not smart, funny, or even interesting,” Y/N admits.

“How can you even say that to me? Did you forget our talk last summer?” Jason says carefully, his gaze never breaking hers.

“I didn’t forget, Jay. I just don’t think we should start anything up between us. It’ll just-”

“So, what am I not good for you?” he snaps, his tone is harsh as he accuses her.

“What? No! I didn’t say that. Why are you so mad at me, Jay?” Y/N asks quietly.

“I’m not mad. I’m hurt,” Jason admits, before he decides he can’t stand the distance between them anymore. With both hands, he roughly grabs Y/N’s hips and pulls her body closer to his. He moves one hand up her back until he’s holding the back of her head; forcing her to keep her eyes on him. “Do you have any idea how hard it is for me to see you talk to other guys? Do you know how difficult it is for me to stand by and see these other assholes get to touch you, kiss you, and fuck you? Do you realize how close I’ve gotten to ‘accidentally’ shooting Dickie-bird in his balls just because you were flirting with him? I couldn’t stand it sweetheart, and I still can’t.”

Y/N’s eyes widen in surprise at Jason’s confession. The pull is too strong for both of them to ignore. Jason takes a chance and lowers his head to kiss Y/N. His lips are initially warm and rough, but they fit perfectly against her gentle and soft lips. The second Y/N kisses Jason back with as much fervor, he realizes his feelings couldn’t be one-sided.

The kiss wasn’t deep yet. They barely pull back enough to breathe before Jason takes the reins and rests his forehead against hers. He teases her by leaning in to kiss her but then pulling back when her lips chase after his. She inhales sharply when his scent fills her nostrils; his exotic, smoky woods, sandalwood, and spices make her weak in her knees that she has to hold both his forearms to keep herself steady. Luckily, Jason manages to hold her up, and he brings her close enough to grind his evident bulge against her core. “Please...please let me show you how much I want you. Let me show you how beautiful you are to me and how much I want all of you,” Jason whispers against Y/N’s lips.

Jason’s green eyes burn into Y/N’s eyes. She licks her lips. “Okay,” she breathes out.

Jason surges forward and slams his mouth against Y/N’s. He wastes no time licking her bottom lip, seeking entrance to taste her and have her in ways he’s always imagined. When she opens her mouth wider, he falls deeper when he realizes her taste is addictive, and he knows this can’t be the last time he’ll kiss her. Their tongues rub and stroke each other’s, and he bites her bottom lip.

He pulls back only to see if she wants more. The look of lust in her eyes is enough. He carefully pushes her backwards until the back of her knees tough the bed. She crawls up to her pillow so she can lie down, her hair fans out around her, creating an illusion of an angelic halo.

Jason looks down at Y/N with adoration. He knows for a fact he’s never looked at a woman like this. He knows she’s the first and will be the last woman he’ll look at like this.

He can tell she’s nervous to make the next move. He smiles softly and begins to undress himself. Kicking off his boots and socks, he shrugs off his jacket and his Kevlar armor. He notices she’s watching intently, biting her bottom lip.

Jason can’t help but smirk. Once he shoves down his pants, he’s left in just his boxer briefs, which nearly exposes how hard his cock is for her.

He crawls on the bed until he’s hovering above her. His hands move to her pajama pants, but he doesn’t pull them down just yet.

“Are you sure you want this?” Jason whispers to her. His voice is deeper and rougher.

Y/N nods her head. “Yes, I want you, Jay,” she whispers back.

Jason kisses her softly to help her relax. He tugs her pajama pants down to her knees. He pulls back from her lips and sits up when he realizes she’s not wearing any panties. He raises an eyebrow and smirks. “No panties?” he teases.

“I...I don’t like to sleep with underwear on,” she confessions shyly. He thinks it’s cute when she blushes.

“That’s perfectly okay, doll. Now that I know, maybe I can join you in bed sometime?”

Y/N giggles at that as she watches Jason move down until his face is in front of her pussy. She quickly sits up and tries to cover her modesty.

“Wait, you-you don’t have to do that. It’s okay. You don’t have to,” Y/N stammers.

Jason smiles softly at her. He quickly sits up to kiss her, to get her to relax. “I know I don’t have to, but I want to sweetheart,” he says, as he helps Y/N remove her top so she’s completely naked in front of him. His hands rub her arms, chest, and stomach, which seems to help her lie back down. “I want to eat you. I want to eat this delicious, wet pussy so much that you’ll be cumming all over my face.”

Y/N blushes more as Jason grins smugly and winks at her before he lowers himself back down to lick her folds. She gasps out in surprise and reaches down to grab his dark hair to tug.

“Oh God,” she whines out.

“Fuck baby girl, you taste so fucking good. You’re sweeter than apple pie,” Jason moans out.

He sucks her clit on the borderline of pain and pleasure, and when he releases it, he can see her pupils dilate with lust.  

Jason smiles against her pussy and uses his fingers to part her folds so he can circle her clit with his tongue. He knows he has experience going down on women, but he also realizes that every woman is different. Deciding to show her a few different ways to cum, he switches up his methods. As he continues to rotate between licking and sucking Y/N’s clit, he pushes a finger inside to warm her up. And with all the noise she’s making, he knows he’s on the right path.

“Oh fuck...Jay. Finger me harder,” Y/N pleads.

He keeps his eyes on her. When she tries to close her eyes, he slaps her thigh. “Keep your eyes on me, sweetheart. I wanna see you cum,” he demands.

Y/N opens her eyes, and it makes everything better for him. Just feeling how tight and wet she is drives his cock to twitch hard in his underwear. He adds a second finger and strokes up against her walls. He can feel she’s close to cumming just by her clenching his fingers. He licks and sucks her clit faster and harder, as he drives a third finger inside her and rubs against her g-spot. He has her now. She’s going to cum for him and he’s excited as fuck.

“Oh, fuck! Oh, my God! Jay! I’m cumming!” Y/N cries out. She sits up and pulls his hair harder.

Jason keeps his eyes on her and hums for her to go ahead and cum. He refuses to take his eyes and mouth off her. He needs her to cum.

With his fingers fucking her pussy loud enough to create that wet, sopping sound, Jason wraps his mouth against Y/N’s pussy to catch her cum. He moans in delight at her taste, and he can feel his cock leaking more precum in his underwear. Once she calms down from her hard orgasm, he quickly stands up and pulls down his underwear.

Y/N is stunned to see Jason’s cock. She knew he was big, partly because of his pants and boxer briefs displaying his rather big bulge. But seeing it in person and up close is different. She knows he’s above average, but his cock is thicker than she imagined. She swallows hard when the red, swollen tip leaks precum.  

Once Jason’s completely naked, he climbs on top of her. Y/N reaches to stroke his cock, but he gently moves her hand away. “As much as I’d like you to touch my cock and maybe suck on it, I don’t want to cum that way. I want to cum in you,” Jason says softly.

When his cock brushes against her pussy, Y/N knew she needs inside her. “I want you to cum inside me. Please...please fuck me,” she pleads.

Hearing her beg does something to him. Jason kisses Y/N hard and moves his hand between them to push his cock inside her. She gasps breathlessly as he groans at how well she’s taking him. She’s tight, warm, and wet, and he knows he’s not going to last long. He looks down at her and his heart swells at the fact that she’s looking up at him as if he is her world. His hands move all over her body, tracing scars and stretch marks, as her own nails scratch down his arms and back.

Y/N takes Jason by surprise when she bites his jaw and giggles when he nips her neck. The intimacy between them is what makes them happier in the moment. But when the tip of his cock brushes against her g-spot, she clenches around his cock, causing his thrusts from going slow to fast and hard now.

“Jay...fuck me harder. Faster, please,” Y/N begs breathlessly.

Jason’s hips slam into hers, his pelvic bone rubs deliciously against her clit. She squeezes around him again, and he knows he won’t be able to last longer. “Okay, sweetheart, okay,” Jason chokes out. He angles his thrusts to be deeper and to hit her sweet spot every time.

She wraps her arms around him and brings his face down to kiss him. He moans against her mouth, and not being able to breathe properly is doing something to him. He quickens his thrusts and moves a hand in between them to rub her clit hard and fast to match his thrusts.

Y/N and Jason break apart to breathe and she throws her head back. He watches in awe at her falling apart because of him, her orgasm takes him by surprise. She cries out his name. She cums hard around his cock and soaks him in her sweet juices that forces his own orgasm out of him.

“Fuck...Y/N, fucking Christ,” Jason moans loudly. He grunts hard and moans when he slams deeper inside her, coating her insides with his seed. He squeezes her hips and thrusts a few more times until he’s sure she’s gotten all his cream.

When he pulls his cock out, he can feel himself get hard again from just seeing his cum seep out of her pussy.

Jason inhales hard and collapses next to her. His arms instantly wrap around her, and she willingly cuddles against him. Fear runs through him, though. “Please be mine...” he dares to whisper. He wonders if she even heard him. The fear of rejection scares him more than anything right now.

“Yes, I’ll be yours,” Y/N whispers back. She kisses his chest and lies her head back down on him. She falls asleep to his even breathing and his hand rubbing her back.

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

The next morning was a rude awakening for Dick Grayson. He couldn’t believe his own eyes. Out of him and his family, Jason was supposed to be the shallow, man whore who slept around with girl after girl every night. Jason was supposed to be less likely one to find a girl, actually fall in love with her and be serious. Because anyone who knows the Batboys knows each of them are viewed a certain way.

 Bruce is the playboy billionaire.

Dick is charming and sweet.

Jason is rough bad boy.

Tim is intelligent and kind.

Damian is a cute demon spawn.

And even Alfred is a badass savage.

 When Jason and Y/N announced their relationship, Dick smirked to himself. He knew there was no way Jason was ‘serious relationship material’ and he knew their relationship would end before it even started.

 He’ll fuck up. He always screws up because he inevitably fucks up everything he does, Dick thinks to himself. And once he does, I’ll be there for her, and she’ll be mine.

 But Jason never fucks up, not with Y/N. To everyone, Jason and Y/N are beautifully perfect together. Dick does manage to fix his friendship with Y/N, and the two are closer than they’ve ever been. It isn’t until after Jason and Y/N’s one year anniversary that Dick finally accepts their relationship.

 Because it wasn’t long until Jason got Bruce and Alfred’s blessing to propose to Y/N. The engagement ring is a beautiful black solitaire diamond, and the reason doesn’t confuse Dick at all, because Y/N isn’t like other diamonds.

 Their wedding is something out of a fairy tale storybook. Dick had to admit that seeing Y/N in a wedding dress made him cry, because he knew she would have the time of her life with Jason on the honeymoon.

 Three years later, Jason and Y/N announce they’re having their first child together, a boy, the news actually made Bruce tear up because Jason and Y/N were giving him his first grandson.

 Call it fucking karma, but Dick finally saw just how beautiful Y/N was, as a wife and a mother.

 But Dick was just a little too late.

 And now she was Jason’s.

 His girl.

[rind0uu]

# 🔗𝐉𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐔𝐒

— Various: Ran, Nahoya, and Hakkai. GN!Reader.

— Genre: Fluff

— Prompt: They don't want you curling their lashes so their sibling happily complied resulting for them to accept rather grumpily.

you want more? go to masterlist.

𓄸 . . Haitani Ran

As much as Ran loves having a cheerful partner by his side, he can’t help but feel drained of matching your energy from time to time.

But for his brother? Oh there’s not a time that he’s not amazed by you whether they just came home from a tiring fight or not, he’s always up and above there with your burst of energy.

Today, having a time to leisure in his only free time, Ran leans back on his comfortable leather chair that he swears his butt is practically imprinted on the marvelous material.

You barge in the once peaceful and tranquil room, carrying an eyelash curler and mascara in hand. “Babe can I curl your lashes?!” you yell at his face out of excitement, it’s the first time you’re gonna be this close to his face without kissing or making out with him.

“Baby, I’m tired. Can’t we do it some other time?” Ran whines while dragging you on top of him.

“How about you curl my lashes instead, hmm y/n-chan?” Rindou, his ever annoying younger brother pipes in.

Ran’s eyes immediately shut open, a glare thrown his brother’s way, “No we have change of plans. You’re curling my lashes, yay for you, love!” He says in one breath while settling you on his lap for you to get to work.

Rindou teasingly pouts at his brother, feigning disappointment, “What about sharing is caring, brother?” Adding, “and as I quote from you, ‘What’s yours is mine and what’s mine is yours’ huh?” to edge the older more.

“Babe, can I?” Ran tilts his head towards Rindou’s direction.

You halt from unscrewing the mascara from its tube contemplating whether to let him go, with a sigh you gesture at Rindou while detangling yourself from him, “Off you go.”

Rindou gasps dramatically and gets a head start, “I’ll remember this betrayal, y/n-chan!”

𓄸 . . Kawata ❛ Smiley ❜ Nahoya

Like any other day, Nahoya’s bright smile greets you. His eyes immediately scan what you have in hand, two things he oh-so-despise, “Love, can I—” Your words are cut off with his firm answer, “No.”

Not expecting you to quickly move on, you merely shrug your shoulders at him, “Figures,” You mumble while walking past him. Nahoya simply follows you with his eyes, “Souya, baby, would you do the honors on letting me curl your lashes?”

The poor victim hesitantly looks up at you and back at his twin, “But..” he mutters, a finger pointing at Nahoya who’s still smiling despite the prominent irk mark on his forehead.

“Who?” You ask while faking confusion.

Nahoya has always been spoiled rotten by you to the point he gets petty over little things even as far as refusing to eat his veggies.

“C’mon now, you can’t forget about me that quickly,” He plays along making his way towards you. “I don’t know any brat like you, though” You say while gesturing at him with the end of the mascara.

“You gonna curl my lashes or not?” Nahoya’s smile drops, eyes challenging you.

Your lips turn up to a smile, a giggle slipping past your lips, “Oh~ Who am I to refuse~?”

𓄸 . . Shiba Hakkai

You enter the room holding what seems to be a pouch full of makeup, lips stretched to a smile, your cheeks must have been hurting from how wide you're smiling.

“What’s up?” Hakkai inquires in curiosity, putting his phone away to give you his undivided attention.

Your eyes trails to where he sits comfortably, “Oh, babe!” You perk up, striding closer towards him to peck him on the lips.

A prominent blush appeared on the apple of his cheeks as if the gesture doesn’t happen often, “What’s with the stuff?”

You look down at the pouch and unzip it for your boyfriend to see, “Makeup~” He hums and scans the objects, “Wanna try them on?” You ask out of curiosity, “I’ll pass.”

“Y/n what’s taking long?” Yuzuha shouts from the other room, head popping out of the doorframe. “Let go of y/n, it’s our time. You're too selfish, Hakkai!” She protests, playfully glaring at his younger brother.

Hakkai chuckles at her, “I guess that’s my cue to leave,” You mumble while nodding Yuzuha's way. “Can I come with you?” Hakkai asks partnered with his best teary doe-like eyes.

Let’s just say you’re too soft for the other. So here you are seated in front of Yuzuha with Hakkai innocently watching you two like a child.

Well at least that’s what it seems like on the outside but Hakkai can pretty much feel the bubbling jealousy inside him. Don’t get him wrong, as much as he trusts you and his sister, he just can’t shake the feeling away especially with him not being involved in such a fun activity.

“Now do me,” He gently pushes away Yuzuha to settle in front of you. Hakkai’s eyes automatically flutter shut, mimicking his sister’s earlier actions.

Yuzuha shakes her head at his sudden burst, meanwhile you fondly smile as you’re presented a peaceful face of your significant other, “pretty,” You mumble while rummaging through your makeup bag.

© rind0uu, 2022. rb is appreciated. allowing translation and repost on other platform as long as you send an ask first.

[existential-angstt]

Take Me To Church // Shane “Dio” Morrissey x Reader

Warnings: SMUT SMUT SMUTTTTT, church kink, public sex, fingering, oral (f receiving)

Dio certainly had a reputation for telling those he met that he was alluring to people, but that was definitely the case when it came to the two of you. You’d seen him around campus before-- he was hard to miss, after all, in his totally black ensembles, multiple piercings and silver chains that jangled and clanked against each other. It seemed like his getup would be hard to get around in, but he was always angrily power walking whenever you saw him so you never stopped to say hi or compliment his sense of style. Eventually you heard rumors about the satanic cult that liked to meet in the basement of Miller Hall and do “rituals” (or whatever the rumor mill was churning out nowadays) and you decided to let your curiosity get the better of you. Whenever anyone talked about said cult, his name was always mentioned so you felt sure you would find him there. You weren’t planning on letting them see you-- you just wanted to know what they were getting up to down there…

You knew Miller Hall as well as the next freshman, but you’d never seen the basement-- you didn’t even know that students had access to that part of the building. The story went that Miller Hall used to be the old swim building, and that the remnants of the pools were in the basement, that you could still smell the chlorine. You crept down the stairs, wide eyed and ears perked for any sounds. The further you got downstairs, the more you could hear little noises-- a laugh here, some chatter there. The low rumble of music played over a speaker. When you got to the bottom of the steps, there was a set of double doors and before you could make up your mind to turn back, they both exploded outwards, slamming into the walls. 

Standing there was Dio, his palms flat against the doors. You could tell he certainly wasn’t expecting you to be standing there, that he was just on his way out, but he froze at the sight of you,your eyes wide and body tensed to run off. 

“Need something?” he said smoothly as though your appearance hadn’t ruffled him in the slightest. 

“I- uh,” you stuttered, trying to come up with something, anything to say. “I’m here for the cult stuff?” you tried. 

He cocked his head at you in confusion and then chuckled lowly. “All right, little one. Party’s in here,” he said, stepping back and gesturing into the large room behind him. You stepped in past him, wary of him beside you. You two had never spoken before now and as far as you knew he hadn’t known you existed before this, so you had no reason to expect the same kindness you felt towards him. 

You jumped as he wrapped an arm around you, pulling you close as you looked around the huge room that consisted mostly of an empty tiled pool. “How’d you hear about us?” he said, his breath hitting your face. He smelled like cigarettes and musky cologne and your heart was jumping every other beat. 

“J-J-Just rumors,” you stammered, looking around. There were about five or six other people, decked almost exclusively in black, swanning around the pool or smoking or doing whatever culty emo college students do in a basement. 

“Mmm. And what’s your name, little dove?” 

You gulped and looked up at him. He was broad as hell and he was completely in your personal space despite never having met you. That wasn’t to say you didn’t like that. 

“Y-Y/N,” you said uncertainly. 

“You sure about that?” he said, catching your tone. 

You nodded, looking into his dark eyes. There was something mischievous in them, something you couldn’t read. He paused a minute, staring at you and you staring at him.

“This shit is pretty lame. How about you and I grab lunch?”

“Lunch?” you said, glancing back at the other five goth kids. You looked back at him and the hand wrapped around your shoulder, previously draped around your frame casually, slid downwards a little so he could trace circles in your skin.

“Uh- Uh huh,” you said, agreeing. Still with an arm around you, he spun the two of you around back towards the double doors and started guiding you out, refusing to give up his hold on you until he was forced to by the narrowing of the staircase. When he did let go of you he followed close behind, hardly letting you get a step ahead before he was on your heels. 

The two of you slipped away to one of the dining halls, making small talk all the way. It was less small talk and more him interrogating you and you answering as steadily as you could. You picked up something light, hoping that eating (at least a little bit) would steady your stomach and Dio picked up just an apple. You wanted to say something, encourage him to get more for his meal punch, but since you didn’t know him, you felt like you couldn’t. 

You ate quickly and he just took his apple with him as you wandered across campus. You weren’t really sure what his goal was but he kept walking and you kept following. You were shocked, to say the least, when he took a sudden turn at the edge of the campus chapel, darting around the side of the building to slip through the heavy wooden door. You thought it was possible he was looking for someplace to shelter from the rain, which was really starting to come down, but somehow you didn’t see Dio as the kind of person to hide from the rain.

You followed him without question but you were certainly wary of what he was plotting. You weren’t surprised when you found the chapel completely empty, desolate of any other souls. You’d never been in here, although it had always been on your list-- a big old gray brick building with stained glass to die for. 

Dio walked up the aisle, black coat swirling around the backs of his knees. You stopped at the last row of pews, just watching him. He stepped up onto the short stage and stood behind the  pulpit like he was going to start preaching the gospels to sunday mass. You chuckled a little, clutching your hands in front of you. You started walking down the aisle towards him. He came down off the stage and stood at the first row of pews, staring you down as you continued towards him.

“You ever been to confession?” he said, nodding towards the confessional in the corner. Your eyes widened a little bit and you shook your head. “I have,” he said, turning to face it. “Looooong time ago. You wanna try?” he said, looking back over his shoulder at you. 

“All right,” you said, heart thumping away again. He walked over and opened one side before slinking around the corners of the box to go sit in the other side. You stepped into the box and closed the door behind you, sitting down on the wooden bench. You heard the door on his side shut and your breath hitched. A second, then-

“Do you have anything you’d like to confess to?”

Your breathing sounded so loud inside this small wooden box and it didn’t help that he was on the other side of it. He had to be able to hear it, how loud you were breathing, how you were twitching with claustrophobia and anxiety. He didn’t give any indication though, so you said, “Not particularly.” 

“No? Are you sure, little dove?” 

You froze, staring at the dark wall of the confessional. His tone had changed, become more dangerous. What was he playing at? 

“P-pretty sure,” you said. A shiver ran through you. You were a little damp from the rain, and churches were cold-- not to mention the tension you were feeling because of this man. You shook a little, your teeth chattering softly. 

You heard his breath hit the barrier on the other side of the confessional; he was leaning in as he said, “You sure you don’t wanna tell me about that little crush of yours?” 

You froze, your shivering suddenly stilled. 

“You think I haven’t seen you, lurking around campus? I’m never in one place long, but…” the pause was bittersweet and you realized you were holding your breath. You tried to exhale without drawing too much attention. “I always see you. Watching me. You think I don’t?” 

You realized now this entire thing had been a trap, a game. But what was his endgame? Where was he going with this? 

“Truth is…” he sighed, leaning back from the barrier, his voice getting slightly more muffled. “I watch you too, little dove.” Your skin was tingling now and you were trying to process everything he was saying but it was a lot for you at once. You suddenly felt very claustrophobic inside the confessional, like a bird trapped in a cage. “You thought I didn’t see you… but you’re the only one I see among those drones. You’re… different. Aware. You don’t follow that path they’ve laid out for you, you kind of… carve your own.” 

Your breath hitched again. “What are you saying?” 

“Forgive me,” he said, seeming to ignore your question, “for I have sinned.” 

You sat up on the bench, leaning forward and closer to the barrier as though to be closer to him. “I’ve had… so many thoughts about you. I… see you around campus and-- sometimes I don’t even have class, I just… follow you,” he continued unhindered. You wondered vaguely how this man followed you, sticking out like a sore thumb among the students, but you quickly banished the concern in lieu of listening to his spiel. 

“I watch you and… I think about all the things I’d like to do to you.” The last few words were breathy, close-- he was leaning towards you again. You were practically right up against each other, pressing in on each other from opposite sides of the confessional. You gasped a little, half from cold and half from-- what was it exactly? You knew this guy was bad news-- no one had anything good to say about him. You shouldn’t be into this guy, right? That didn’t seem to stop the butterflies in your stomach that were quickly turning into something else entirely.

“Like what?” you said softly and he inhaled sharply as though he had forgotten you were there. 

“I-” he trailed off; he seemed to be at a loss for words for once. From what you knew about Dio, it was practically impossible to catch this man off guard; he seemed to have a comeback for anything anyone threw at him, even if it was a lousy defense. For him to not know what to say-

“You have beautiful skin-- I want to see every inch of it, touch every inch of it,” he said finally, his voice lower and more serious. You gripped the gridded barrier between you, making the wood creak. “I want to get on my knees in front of you and find out what you taste like. I want to make you feel so good I’m the only thing you can think about for days at a time. I want you to scream my name in those moments you’re feeling the most pleasure,” he said very quickly, like if he didn’t get it out in time it would kill him.

You brought a hand up to your mouth and shivered again, both with cold and anticipation at what he was saying to you. “Can I come over there, little dove?” he hissed through the confessional’s wall. You nodded rapidly, eyes widening, before realizing he couldn’t see you. “Yes,” you croaked out and you heard the door to his side bang open only to wait a few seconds in agony before the door to your side was nearly ripped off its hinges. 

Dio was standing there, as imposing as ever, taking up the whole doorway with his form. He was 6’3” and broad as hell so it wasn’t hard for him to do. Since you’d last seen him a few minutes ago, he looked fairly more ruffled and there was some color in his pale cheeks, a pretty blush creeping across his cheekbones. 

You both leaped at each other in sync, you only making it halfway off the bench before he was swooping down to meet you, your lips clashing. He kissed you hard, as you’d expected; he was aggressive, pressing down on you and licking or biting anything he could get to. And yet… it wasn’t all taking as you’d expected. This was a man you’d halfway believed would take whatever he wanted and be done with it, but-- he was responding to your subtle movements, to the way you were kissing him, giving you what you needed as well. 

He halfway pushed you back into the confessional, pulling the door shut behind him and throwing the pair of you into darkness. It was cramped to say the least, but he lowered himself down and fitted himself against you, climbing into your lap and straddling you on the bench, kneeling over you. His hands came up to cradle your face, the cold metal of his rings biting your skin and making you hiss and gasp. He caught your bottom lip in his teeth and pulled, biting down softly. 

You groaned, the noise echoing around in the confessional and feeling so much louder. There was a deep rumble as he chuckled. “I watched you,” he pulled away to say, “and wanted you and hoped- but- I couldn’t have predicted you would taste this sweet or fall apart this beautifully for me.” 

You gasped and moaned a little at his words, running your hands down the sides of his slick leather jacket and finding purchase underneath, where he was nothing but warmth. You slithered your hands underneath the hem of his shirt and found nothing but miles of hot flesh over taut muscle. He growled a little at your invasion and shoved his tongue into your mouth unforgivingly, moving one hand down to rest it against the hollow of your throat. 

You leaned into him, pressing your throat higher against his hand and forcing his face back a little, your tongue tangling with his. He squeezed the hand on your neck in response and you let out a little whimper against your will. He moaned against your mouth, moving downwards and trailing kisses across your jaw for only a second before he was moving to your neck. You shoved your hands upwards under his shirt, reveling in the contact. You ran your right hand across his chest and stopped when you felt something metallic. He was wearing a lot of chains, could you have touched one of those? No, no, this was smaller, what-

He chuckled again and you decided you liked when he did that. You realized with a start his nipples were pierced but you barely had time to comprehend the implications of that before the hand still holding your face was moving downwards at an alarming rate. One hand stayed on your throat while the other ventured down the center of your chest and across your belly before finding the edge of your shirt and shoving upwards. Your shirt bunched up around your neck like a scarf and your whole chest was exposed to him in the darkness.

You were still a little chilled from the rain and despite recent activities you shivered. “Are you cold, baby?” he whispered against your cheek as he peppered kisses across your face. “Let me try an’ warm you up.” His hand plunged downwards again and suddenly he was shoving it into your skirt, rubbing at you through your underwear. He only did that for a few seconds before he withdrew again so he could cup your boobs through your bra before pushing your bra up and setting his hands on the real things. 

You moaned against him and he sank down on you, putting your left nipple into his hot mouth and sucking on it mercilessly. The hands you had under his shirt turned to claws and you raked them against his skin, pulling him closer, but he only growled like a feral animal and continued, making little noises as he sucked on your tit. He pulled away with a wet popping sound, saliva dribbling down your boob, and put his mouth on your other breast, treating that one the same way-- relentlessly. 

While he was still focused on that, he shoved his hand back into your skirt, this time dipping underneath your underwear and running along your slick folds. With one last cruel nibble on your right breast, he pulled away to say, “Is all this for me, sweetness? Are you this wet for me? You’re even more desperate for me than I could have anticipated.” Your hands slid down to his hips as he sat back a little, his hand still exploring you blindly, and you could feel the sharp cut of his Adonis belt as his thumb brushed your clit. You cried out a little as he applied pressure but swiftly went back to circling your bundle of nerves. 

“Why don’t we take this somewhere a bit more roomy?” he said, his breath hitting your face and then suddenly there was light and it was blinding; Dio had kicked open the door of the confessional and was pulling you out of it like a cop at a riot as your shirt slid back down. 

“Wha- Where?” you managed to gasp out. Dio led you over to the short stage at the front of the church with an iron grip on your wrist and all you could do was obey. Once you had both climbed up, he turned back to you and said, “Lay down, little dove.”

You looked back at him with reproach. “Dio, this- this is a church. Shouldn’t we at least lock the door or something?”

He turned back to you fully and pulled you close, towering over you slightly menacingly. “Now where’s the fun in that?” he rumbled, his hands finding your hips. You gasped and found yourself doing as he said, laying down on your back on the floor of the daius. You gave the interior of the church another once over, making sure no one had walked in during your confessional time, but you hardly had time to evaluate present dangers before he was on you again. This time he didn’t straddle you, but leaned down and, with a knee, kicked apart your legs before putting his own weight in between them. 

“Dio-” 

“Shush.” 

He put his mouth back on yours and you breathed him in, cigarettes and musk. You groaned again as his hand snaked back down to where it had been between your legs. He kept kissing you as his hands reached down to tear away your skirt, ripping it halfway down your legs. You reached up to grip his leather jacket by the collar when he did that but he only grinned at you cheekily.

The goth boy pulled away from you until he was positioned by your legs, which he lifted so your knees were bent and then pushed apart again. You heard a click and looked up-- Dio had taken out a black switchblade and opened it. Your mouth fell open as you stared, unable to do anything. He eyed you darkly before grabbing hold of your underwear and slicing through it. You breathed a small sigh of relief when he pulled your underwear off of you, but went back to a mix of anxiety and lust when he returned to you, resting his palms on your knees with the knife in one hand. 

He was looking up at you and then back at your lady bits as he ran his tongue across his bottom lip. Dio took the knife and lowered it down somewhere you couldn’t see but could feel all to well. You hissed and tried to sit up to see what he was doing, but he applied a little bit of pressure and you laid back immediately. “Good girl,” he said, using the handle of the knife to trace your entrance. You stayed on your back, staring up at the ceiling, but he said, “Hey” so you sat up the slightest bit to meet his eyes. “Look at me.” 

He was still tracing that knife a place you couldn’t see, a place a knife shouldn’t be, his eyes burning into yours. The cold of the metal was almost soothing to your overheated skin but you were more than a little nervous at his implications. You were too afraid to look away again, unsure of what it would make him do. Suddenly he slipped the handle of it into you, just a few inches, but you screamed out and arched your back a bit before remembering why that would be a bad idea. You looked back at him as soon as you could make your eyes function again and he was wearing a shit eating grin from watching you struggle. 

“Dio-” you moaned. 

“What is it, little one?” he said, completely unaffected by this. 

“Please-” 

“Please what?” he said. You looked back up at him and he was staring at you sharply. He needed you to say it. 

“P-Please, I need you to-”

“What, little dove? You need me to what?” 

“Fuck me!” you cried out desperately. 

He chuckled and pressed the hard edged knife further into you, the chilly metal and the sharpness of the dimensions biting into you. “Like this?” he said nastilly. 

“No,” you moaned out, reaching aimlessly for his hand, which was pressing the knife deeper into you. “Please-” 

“What’s my name, little dove?” he said, that nickname he’d give you sliding off this tongue so easily. You groaned and let your head drop, staring at the ceiling while your body was halfway between pain and pleasure. “Hey- look at me,” he snapped and your head shot up, your eyes meeting his blearily. “What’s my name?” 

“Dio!” you cried out, desperate for him to take the knife out. It was satisfying some desire buried deeply within you but mostly it was just uncomfortable. And the thought that someone could walk in at any minute- 

“Good girl. You’re so good for me; you’re behaving so well,” he said as he slowly pulled the handle of the knife out of you and you felt like you could breathe again. “I didn’t think-- when I followed you around, when I thought about you-” he said, climbing on top of you, his full weight pressing into you, “I didn’t think you’d let me do all these things. Not willingly.” 

“I wanted you to, Dio. That’s why I came looking for you,” you said, reaching up to card your fingers through his black hair and tug. He moaned into your chest, pushing your shirt back up again so he could rest his face in your breasts. After a few seconds of you tugging on his hair and running your hands through it, he started moving again, kissing your chest until he moved back up to your mouth, nipping your bottom lip again.

Now that he was pressed up against you, you could feel how hard he was through those leather pants of his. And from what you could tell, he was big. You let out a little gasp and started fumbling with his pants shakily, trying to slide them down. He jumped a little, his hand grabbing your wrist on instinct. But then he was chuckling against you, smiling as he said, “Are you needy for me, you little whore?” 

You flexed your hand uncomfortably in his tight grasp and after a few seconds of heavy eye contact, establishing a silent “no touching” rule, he released you and you withdrew your hand back greedily.

Luckily he got the message to speed things along and reached down himself to pull at the fastenings on his pants, shimmying out of them with a little difficulty. He had just gotten adjusted when you both jumped at the sound of the heavy front doors opening. Before you knew what was happening, Dio was pulling you up by the waist and scooting the both of you over to behind the pulpit, which had a covered table right beside it. You were still on the stage, but at least now you were out of view.

There was some faint chatter, two voices-- a couple who’d stopped in the church to admire the stained glass. You looked up at him fearfully but he merely smiled down at you before he was slithering back off of you and lowering his head-

It was all you could do not to cry out. He licked a couple stripes up your entrance, tasting you, before moving up to suck on your clit harshly. You clapped a hand to your mouth and gripped the edge of the pulpit with the other. He was being intentionally slow, overstimulating your clit and only edging you with his tongue. The voices were getting a little louder-- you could hear them walking down the aisle, even make out what they were saying now. 

“-so pretty in here, I don’t know why I don’t come here more often.”

“Maybe cause you’re Jewish?” 

“Shut up, I don’t have to be Catholic to admire beauty.” 

You almost let yourself get lost in their conversation, trying to forget about what this man was doing to you with his mouth when he dipped one of his fingers into you. The edge of the pulpit creaked slightly at the pressure you were exerting on it and you bit down on the back of the hand you had covering your mouth to keep from moaning. 

He laughed into you hoarsely and the vibration of his mouth on your clit sent you up the wall. 

“What was that? Did you hear that?” the female voice was saying. You had tears in your eyes from the effort of holding yourself together and you were about to be found out. Dio was still flicking his tongue lazily over your clit and moving that finger in and out of you at an alarmingly fast rate, you didn’t know how they couldn’t hear it-

“No, I didn’t hear anything. What did you hear?” 

You could feel tightness coiling in your belly- you were close. But you couldn’t- not here, not now; not when they were so close to-

You reached down and gave Dio’s hair a sharp tug. He looked up with hooded eyes like he was at an all you can eat buffet but the haziness quickly faded when he noticed your expression. He looked back down at your trembling body and pointed, mouthing, “Are you- about to-” you nodded feverishly, hitting your head on the edge of the pulpit and seeing stars. 

“That! Did you hear that?” “I really don’t know what you’re talking about-” “Maybe this place really is haunted.” 

Dio pulled his finger out of you and you let out a whimper in surprise. Just one whimper. That was all it took.

“HEY-” “Yeah, I definitely heard it that time. Let’s-- let’s get outta here.”

“What, are you scared?”

“Of ghosts? No. Of horny college students fucking in some dark corner? Yes.” 

“Ugh, fine. Let’s go.”

There were shuffling footsteps, a lofty breeze and the sound of rain, and then the heavy wooden door slammed shut. You let out a long groan, both from pleasure and everything you’d pent up the last five minutes and Dio reached up and squeezed your tit. “You’re good at keeping quiet. I’ll have to explore that later.” You twitched and gasped  a little. 

“So, you’re close, little one?” he hissed, straddling you again and sinking his teeth down on your neck, running his tongue over every spot he bit. Your head was spinning and you could hardly see straight. 

“Uy-yeah-” you moaned. 

“Well, then. Let’s see if we can make you cum before someone else decides to walk in on us, eh?” he said, pulling at his pants again. You reached up to grab at his bare hips as you felt his hard dick rub against your pussy. You groaned as your clit throbbed, overstimulated, while you hadn’t had anything inside you since his finger and that hadn’t been nearly enough. 

Without much other ceremony, Dio lined himself up and rammed into you. He was definitely big, and almost more than you’d been prepared for, even with all his teasing. You tightened your calves around him, wrapping your legs around his waist and pulling him deeper on instinct. He let out a deliciously low moan, dipping in to drop kisses across your cheeks and nose. “Mmm, you feel so good, little dove,” he groaned, his kisses turning to love bites and then to full nibbles the further down he went. 

“You’re not so bad yourself,” you groaned, enjoying the fullness of him. He pulled back and rammed into you again with a grunt, hitting your cervix. You cried out, the sound ringing out against the stone walls of the church. You really hoped there weren’t any staff members working somewhere inside the building, though this was the worst possible time to be worrying about that. You reached up and grabbed a fistful of Dio’s hair and yanked. His eyes flashed at you and he growled, slamming into you again, looking down at your chest. You sucked in a breath and your hand slid down to his jaw, where you tilted back his head so he would meet your eyes. He grinned devilishly and kissed you, moving his hips in a steady rhythm and making you groan. He kept slamming into you, bringing up a ringed hand to clutch at your throat, squeezing it and making your eyes roll back in your skull. 

“Ah- ah, r-r-right there, Dio, that’s the spot, ri-”

He kept ramming into you, his pace quickening and your pleasure with it. Your right hand tangled itself in the hair at the back of his head, pulling with every thrust, and your left clutched at his shoulder, trying to hold yourself together. In this position you were imminently more conscious of the sounds echoing around the church-- the slapping of wet skin, ragged breathing, and moaning. You were letting out a litany of both curses and praises when he gasped and said, “D-dove, I- I’m close.”

You looked up in surprise-- your head had fallen back against the floor as your back was arching but now you were paying him your full attention. His cheeks were flushed so beautifully and you could see the tension he was holding. “W-where-” he groaned. 

“My tits, cum on my tits, Dio,” you moaned, pushing your chest up towards him. He let out a whimper and pulled out of you, sitting up so he was straddling you on his knees. When you finally saw his cock, you let out a low groan. That had been inside you? It was-

You watched and grinned with satisfaction as he started jerking himself off, staring at you, half naked and splayed out underneath him. And then with a shout, he came, thick ropes of cum landing on your chest and belly. You dipped your fingers down into the cum on your chest and tasted it, moaning obscenely as you did it. In all the times you’d seen Dio, you’d never been able to picture him looking anything like this-- completely disheveled, halfway fallen apart, and staring at you with his mouth hanging open and his eyes hazy with release. 

He ducked back down to lick up the mess from your chest, not wasting a single drop. After he’d given you a thorough tongue bath, he came back up to meet your lips, kissing you gently and sweetly like a high school boy would. “All right, angel,” he sighed against your cheek. “Let me take care of you now.” 

Before you could ask what he meant, he was pulling back again, lifting your knees back up and sinking his face right into your heat. You let out a cry of surprise, which turned into a moan as he was back to stimulating you. He wasted no time, he tongue circling your clit and dipping into you before he shoved his finger back where it had been earlier. You moaned and he gripped your thigh as he pulled your legs onto his shoulders, the metal of his rings and bracelet digging into your sensitive flesh. 

It wasn’t long at all before you were whimpering out that you were close, and his movements got more intense, his fingers moving faster as he sucked on your clit. You didn’t hold back any noises as everything came to a roaring finale you were cumming into his mouth. He drank you up like you were an oasis in the desert, licking you clean until everything was throbbing from overstimulation. 

He softly dropped your legs back to the floor and climbed back on top of you, kissing you sweetly and tasting like you. You wrapped your legs back around his waist shakily, clinging onto him to steady you. “You gonna make it, little dove?” he hissed, pressing the softest of kisses to your cheeks and nose and forehead. You mumbled incoherently and simply clung to him, holding him close, and he let you. 

You didn’t lay there more than two minutes, trying to regain your bearings, when you heard the heavy door of the church swing open again. 

“All right, kids, this is the University Chapel-”

You and Dio snapped to attention and looked at each other in pure fear. The giggling and chatter of the school children filled the church as the door finally slammed shut behind them.

[local-ground-apple]

May I request for headcanons with the dorm leader and a f!reader who’s scared of people and always have her guards up? How would they win her over? (I’m so sorry if this is way too much and if this is the wrong place to ask for requests)

It’s not too much and it’s a good place to ask for requests. Hope you will like it~!

I swear I don’t know why Vil and Azul are so long..

♥️ probably scared you with his tantrums and quick temper

♥️ and probably scared you even more with strict rules imposed on students,

♥️ at first Riddle had absolutely no clue how to approach you, you always seemed rather anxious and cautious around him and he didn’t like it at all. Eventually, he asks Trey for some advices on how to get closer to you,

♥️ now he’s making sure you’re not near before he ruthlessly scolds and punishes students or has an outburst of anger,

♥️ Riddle tries to control his emotions around you and talk in rather pleasant voice, sometimes may turn a blind eye if you break one, seemingly insignificant rule, even though he’s screaming internally,

♥️ asks you, how was your day and oftne starts small talks with you. Riddle even offers to help you with subjects you don’t excel at, which slowly makes you warm up to him and gradually builds your trust,

♥️ when you feel more comfortable in his company, he invites you for tea parties where just the two of you eat strawberry tarts and talk in pleasant ambiance (Riddle shamelessly denies it being a date and refers to it as friendly meeting, keep telling that to yourself)

♥️ Riddle is the listener and he tries hard not to push your barriers, he’s always there to listen to your problems and is more than willing to offer you a solution,

💛 he certainly enjoys a good chase and is up for the challenge, he’s not the type to easily give up. Leona is a predator after all and you happened to be considered a prey,

💛 since you always have your guard up around others, he finds your mysterious and unapproachable aura completely endearing, Leona wants to be the only one to whom you will open up

💛 he acts more than he talks, so at first expect that lazy lion to actually put some effort – he will intimidate people you’re scared of, will carry your bag if you happen to walk in the same direction as him without even asking for your permission or he would invite you to his table in canteen,

💛 when he realises his approach doesn’t work that well and you’re still slightly intimidated by him, Leona will change his strategy,

💛 since you don’t want to be open, then he won’t be forcing you. Leona decides to show you an example. He opens up to you, tells you his honest thoughts without beating around the bush – which actually works and makes you gradually trust him more and more, 

💛 Leona is not rushing you or putting any pressure on you, after all hunts are not supposed to be easy and end so rapidly,

💙 his tentacle senses began tingling when he spotted you. His greedy and calculating self was looking for a perfect moment to get you to sign a contract. You had heard rumours about his fishy deals and after Floyd personally and brutally invaded your comfort zone, you swore to yourself your feet would never step in Mostro Lounge again. It led to you having absolutely no trust in him and basically running away at a mere sight of the twins,

💙 if you were scared of people before, now you were terrified and your guards were even higher than always. You promised yourself to be extra cautious around Azul,

💙 Azul can partially understand you, he doesn’t like feeling vulnerable either and usually has hard time opening to others and prefers to keep things to himself, yet it doesn’t mean he will go easy on you,

💙 after your brief meeting when you politely refused a contract, Azul actually gives you time, he doesn’t seem pushy or overbearing. You don’t see him or Leech twins for extended period of time. After a while you began to feel less anxious and your body isn’t in constant “fight or flight” mode, that’s when Azul steps in.

💙 gets paired with you in poison class, completely accidentally, much to your discontent. Azul leaves you surprised by how respectful he is, not putting any pressure on you and helping you with task. He gently asks about your opinion and listens to you, which leaves you stunned,

💙 you don’t warm that easily to him, having at the back of your mind all the horrible rumours about him. Azul is a great manipulator. While he was seemingly giving you time, Leech twins were busy collecting any information about you, which could be helpful in the future. Soon, Azul adapts his responses to your reactions, slowly making you lower your guard in his company,

💙 offers you a small favour, without any contract and wants nothing in return. You were suspicious, he keeps his promise, which makes you slightly warm up to him, Azul views that as investment in the future and he is more than willing to make another favour,

💙 just one day Azul will return to collect your outstanding debt,

💙 if he doesn’t manage to woo you with his manners, clever tricks, then surely, he can do it through a contract, right?

🧡he is open and friendly with everyone and his bright and energetic personality scared you a bit at first. His presence was a bit overbearing to you and you couldn’t believe you would find such a kind soul in this school,

🧡 Jamil had to explain to him, why you may not want to open up to new people and have trust issues, after that he would change his approach,

🧡 Kalim wants to gain your trust and become your friend, before he would try to woo you, he doesn’t want to blow his chances with you, so he takes things slow,

🧡 soon you learn that he’s genuinely friendly and cheerful and he’s not trying to be someone he isn’t,

🧡 Kalim talks openly with you, doesn’t hide anything about himself and is more than happy to share some histories about his past with you

🧡 often tells you that he appreciates time you spend with him and how this relationship is important to him,

🧡 gradually, your conversations began to flow more easily and naturally and you find yourself opening a little,

🧡 eventually, his bright personality wins you over

💜 Vil thinks highly of himself and is sure that making you fall for him would be easy-peasy. After all, who wouldn’t want to date him? Isn’t he such a perfect lover? He knows, it’s just a matter of time before you let your guard down and fall head over heels for him,

💜 sends Rook to discreetly gather some crucial information about you, he wants to understand why are you cautious and don’t you want to trust others. After finding a cause, Vil is more than happy to impose the best (in his opinion) solution and solve your issues. You won’t even notice his attempts,

💜 Vil is an excellent actor. After learning more about you and analysing your personality with Rook, he will adjust his words, gestures to your reactions. He always creates a perfect ambiance for your talks and seems to be empathizing with you. But you will never know which sugar-coated word was his true self.

💜 makes you believe that he leads the conversations with you, while having the intention of fully listening to you. Soon, you’re convinced that he’s a reliable person in whose company you can speak without feeling judged or embarrassed. After all, doesn’t he seek to understand you?

💜 Vil judges you internally, although in your eyes, he’s a very encouraging and supportive person. He helps you adjust in this completely new word and initially he isn’t harsh to you, as he is with Epel. He showers you in compliments, builds your self-esteem and makes you feel appreciated in his company. After all, Vil is going to fix your any imperfection after you eventually becomes his.

💜 if you reject him despite his relentless efforts, special addition to your apple or an old-fashioned love potion should make you fall for him,

🖤 oh boy, he is rather scared of people, often avoiding them at all cost and now he wants to overcome your barriers you had set around you and win you over?

🖤 it’s going to be a tough challenge, Idia himself is not sure whether he can overcome it,

🖤 feels very awkward whenever he tries to get out of his comfort zone and approach you, so he practically doesn’t leave it. You’re not sure how many times you had seen him leaving his dorm, yet alone his room,

🖤 you both share a lot in common, so he perfectly understands why you may have trust issues and don’t want to open up so easily,

🖤 Idia gives you (and mostly himself) quite a lot of time and if he finally gathers lasting remains of his practically non-existing courage, he will message you,

🖤 most of your conversations would be online. Surprisingly to you, they don’t feel awkward or forced, you both enjoy them, slowly warming up to each other,

🖤 eventually you would take your relationship from Internet to real life,

💚 he is a patient fae, so he gives you as much time as you need to warm up to him. Your mistrust and fear of people, as well as having your guards up all the time is understandable to him. 

💚 Malleus is not exactly an open person with a vast circle of friends. Besides, most of Diasomnia students are also cautious and discreet, so he is rather accustomed to it and doesn’t find you weird,

 💚 He doesn’t mind walking in the forest with you in complete silence and doesn’t even find it awkward,

💚 Malleus is elated when you gradually become more comfortable in his company, he always makes sure you’re feeling alright and is a great listener. You could spend hours rabbiting on how your day was awful and he would be there to hear it. You have his full and undivided attention,

💚 always tells you how much he appreciates time spent with you and how much this relationship means to him, 

💚 appreciates every piece of information you share about yourself and in return does the same. Generally sooner or later, you both help subconsciously help each other open up and before you even realise, you start to develop feelings for your kind Tsunotarou,

[all-hail-the-witcher]

leaves

this started as a hc but turned into a long thing about geralt being a huge softie.  enjoy.

___

jaskier collects leaves that he thinks are pretty during the fall and presses them in his song writing notebook so he can look at them during the winter when all the leaves are gone. and, he'd never admit this to anyone, but he knows exactly where each leaf came from, and what he and geralt were doing when he found them, so they help him stay close to geralt in the cold months when he's away at kaer morhen.

geralt doesnt understand the fascination cause “they're just leaves jaskier” and gets kinda grumpy when jaskier walks extra slow during the fall to admire and inspect the leaves. but he secretly enjoys the way that jaskiers face lights up in front of their camp fire at night as he shows geralt each leaf he collected that day and tucks them safely into the pages of his notebook. 

jaskier used to show them to roach to inspect but after she ate a particularly beautiful one on accident he does not allow her anywhere near his precious leaves.

one year jaskier and geralt part ways a little earlier than normal, geralt deciding to begin the trek to kaer morhen sooner than he normally would due to a lack of contracts so jaskier goes to oxenfurt earlier as well. the leaves are just beginning to change color as they part ways. 

a few nights into the journey geralt is making camp for himself and roach when he sees a bright red leaf sitting on the forest floor, exactly the kind of leaf that jaskier would pick up and admire and wax poetry about before tucking it into his notebook. but jaskier isn't there, and geralt feels a little pang. he glares at the leaf the entire time he's setting up camp. 

the camp fire has burned down to the embers by the time geralt is ready to lay out his bed roll, but he can still see the leaf at the corner of his vision. he sighs and gets up, knowing that it will continue to bother him unless he does something about it. he picks up the leaf, brushes off the dirt far more lightly than he would ever care to admit, and goes to tuck it in to his saddle bag in the roll of parchment he keeps on the off chance he has to write a letter. 

roach snorts at him. “shut up,” he mutters back. “its just a leaf.” roach nuzzles his arm. “no, i don't miss him. im just...bringing him a souvenir. we had to part early this year.” another snort. “yes, i know you know. but he didn't get to see the leaves this year. i don't want him to be disappointed.” roach headbuts him as if to say, you dumb witcher. geralt ignores this, but gives her some nice pats before retiring to his bedroll. 

in the next town geralt buys a random book. he doesnt know what it is, he bought the cheapest one he could find. but he's not going to read it, he just needs something to keep jaskiers leaf in so it doesnt crumble to bits before the spring. he swears roach laughs at him for that. 

throughout his trip up to kaer morhen, geralt finds himself progressively walking slower, taking time to admire the leaves as the bard had once done. 

he picks up the second leaf a week later after a battle with some drowners. he’s heading back into the town, having come across his first contract in weeks, holding the head and covered in river muck and guts when he sees a perfectly yellow leaf on the ground in front of him. he picks it up gingerly, trying his very best not to get guts on it (and he nearly succeeds). if the alderman thinks its weird, a witcher coming back with a drowner head in one hand and a yellow maple leaf in the other, he doesnt say anything. roach does tho, whinnying the second she sees it in geralts hand. he ignores her, and presses the maple leaf into the book a few pages after the brilliant red one. 

after that he adds to the collection more frequently. an reddish oak leaf he finds on the ground outside of a tavern, a brilliant orange leaf he finds at his campsite, a yellowish orange leaf the size of his face that he finds along the road and so on. roach makes fun of him every time he reaches for the book, but geralt ignores her. they're merely souvenirs for jaskier, nothing more. 

collecting leaves slows him down considerably, but he cant bring himself to care. he's even disappointed when the last of the leaves disappear and the first snow sets in. 

but that doesnt stop him from collecting things to add to his book. he gathers different small pine branches, holly leaves and other things that he knows jasper has never seen before because they grow too far north. he becomes so caught up in his hunt for interesting plants that the snow is already falling thickly by the time he reaches kaer morhe, despite him leaving for the keep so early. eskel and lambert chide him for being late, but he ignores them, happy that he managed to fill most of the book with leaves for jaskier.

that whole winter the book remains in the bottom of geralts pack, wrapped carefully in his spare shirt. he thinks about it often, but doesnt dare bring it out for fear that one of his brothers will catch him and make fun of him for being a sap. he's not a sap, he just found some leaves for his friend. 

winter drags on far too long in geralts opinion and leaves as soon as the passes are clear, antsy to get back to his friend and give him the book. but on his way down he discovers yet another beautiful thing that jaskier would love: wildflowers. roach is slightly more appreciative of this because wildflowers are things that she is allowed to eat. geralt often feeds her them to see if she approves. if she spits it out or refuses to eat it, then it doesnt make it into the book.

in the space he has left in the book he fills it with wildflowers, sometimes going out of his way to collect them. there are buttercups, dandelions, little blue ones the color of jaskiers eyes, poppies, apple blossoms, daffodils, and even a few rose petals that he buys from a stall in a market. the book is brimming with nature now. he has to be careful not to lose any of his treasures. 

finally, he arrives at his and jaskiers meeting spot. he stables roach who gives him a headbut of encouragement and he grabs the book carefully wrapped in his shirt before he makes his way to the tavern, suddenly very nervous. 

jaskiers voice is already wafting out of the tavern as he draws closer, having beat geralt to the meeting spot for once, and geralt hesitantly steps inside, knowing jaskiers eyes will be on him the second he goes in. he’s overcome with thoughts, what if jaskier hates it? what if he thinks it's dumb? what if he laughs at him? 

he enters anyway, because he's a witcher for fucks sake and he can handle his friends scrutiny. immediately he sees jaskier, sitting in the corner, working a crowd. as always, jaskiers eyes snap to him the second he steps foot in the tavern and he winks. geralt gives him the smallest nod and heads to his table in the corner after ordering an ale. he tucks the book out of sight on the bench next to him. 

minutes later jaskier barrels over, eyes bright with the life of the crowd he had been entertaining. 

“geralt!” he exclaims. “finally. i thought you stood me up, you big oaf. i never make it here before you do, i thought you may have been eaten! although im not sure by what exactly, i don't know what species has a taste for witches, dragons maybe? well never mind, youre here now and you better have a good excuse for being so late, even im starting to get bored of this town and you know how i love towns...”

geralt smiles into his ale, he missed this, but he'd never admit it. his eyes flick over to the book sitting on the seat beside him, unsure whether or not he should give it to him. 

jaskier, being the observant fucker he is, notices. “geralt what do you have on the seat there? is it a monster head? you know what happened last time you tried to hide a monster head in a tavern, i thought the town would chase us out with pitchforks they were so angry! surely you wouldn't-”

“here.” geralt mutters, cutting him off, unwilling to listen to that horrible story. 

jaskier stares at the lump of black fabric on the table. “geralt, why are you giving me your shirt? its not really my style, i’m not one for black really, makes my skin look too pale.”

“open it.” he says into his ale. 

jaskier does, and stares at the book dumbfounded. “a history book? geralt you know that i am a master of the seven liberal arts, im a professor at oxenfurt! i have all these boring books in the library, i didn't need you to get me one, although it is very thoughtful of you to- oh”

geralt, tired of hearing jaskiers babbling, flips open the book, revealing the bits of nature he had spent their time apart collecting. jasper is silent, which geralt takes as a bad sign. maybe roach was right, maybe he didn't like it, maybe he'd wasted his time for nothing. 

“cause you....you didn't get to see...the leaves this year,” he mutters, looking into the tavern, unable to see the inevitable disappointment on jaskiers face. 

“oh, geralt,” jaskier whispers. “you collected all of these for me?”

geralt doesnt say anything, but his silence is enough. 

“this is why you were late. you were collecting these, for me.”

“its okay if you don't..like them” geralt bites out. 

“oh no no no no, geralt, they're wonderful.” 

geralt looks at jaskier and sees him touching the pine branch he took form the trees outside kaer morhen, tears brimming in his eyes. “you don't hate it?”

“no, love.” jaskier smiles softly. “i adore it. and i adore you. and id love it if you tell me about all of them, please.”

for the first time in years geralt feels something like a smile tugging at his lips and he picks up the pine branch from jaskiers hand, telling him how it came from the tree outside his window, the one that he looked at everyday as a kid growing up. the same tree that lambert once dared him to climb and he nearly did before being spotted by vesemir and scolded at. jasper laughs and sniffs the pine carefully before placing the branch back in the book. 

they pour over the book for hours at their table in the tavern. geralt cant remember the last time he's talked this much, much less about himself of all things, but jaskier is more than happy to listen. 

__

if you want to be tagged in future works of mine shoot me an ask !!

[potterandpreferences]

The Way To A Man's Heart

Pairing: Ron Weasley x Reader

Setting: Half-Blood Prince; For the purposes of this one-shot, Ron dated Lavender in OotP

When you and Ron had started dating, a lot of people were convinced it would not last. Apparently, the school cohort was under the impression that he and Hermione were going to be the Hogwarts power couple. You could kind of see where they were coming from; there had been a lot of petty jealousy on both sides and there had been a sense that it was playground pigtail pulling. And yet, you couldn't help but think that those people were also selectively blind to how toxic that sort of relationship could be. Honestly if it wasn't for Harry, you didn't believe Ron and Hermione would still be friends six years down the line.

As it was, you had come to be somewhat of a secret friend to Ron Weasley. When he was at odds with his two best mates, he could find some solace in your company. Whether it was playing exploding snap, hanging out on the quidditch pitch (even if your feet stayed firmly on the ground some of the time), or - despite what others would believe - doing homework together in the library.

As a consequence of spending so much time with him one to one, it didn't take long to learn some of Ron's tells. When he was really, truly upset, he went off his food. When he was irritated, he preferred something like a pumpkin pasty or a sandwich, something he could tear into. When he was happy, he'd try some of everything, content with a little of lots until he went in for seconds. When he was feeling a bit down or worried, his preference of choice was a hearty stew followed by a warm apple pie with ice cream, something that reminded him of home.

This particular day it was sunny and one of the warmest thus far. Spring was slowly transitioning into summer, and with it exam season was upon the students of Hogwarts. Sixth year didn't count in the same way that seventh year would, but your continued presence in all your chosen subjects depended on passing all of their exams. And so, along with the sunshine, fifth years and up were also being subjected to the heat fueled by their ever increasing panic, which made sitting outside with a nice cool breeze all the more tempting.

You had been attempting to study in the library, but the librarian had all the windows firmly shut and it got a bit too stuffy for your liking. You checked out the books you required for your first exam, and ambled down the corridors in search of an empty courtyard. It was as you were descending the stairs to the first floor that you noticed a certain redhead stomping towards the doors that led outside, with the proverbial storm cloud raging above his head.

Concerned, you followed. He didn't slow his pace or give any indication that he knew he was being followed, something which raised even more alarm bells. Ron, as a by-product of living with the twins, was usually very aware of someone being on his tail. Ron's long legs carried him to the shore of the Black Lake. He followed the edge around to a little outcrop coated in pebbles and stones. These he grabbed at roughly, before launching them out towards the water with a growl.

"Ron? Are you okay? What's happened?" You approached cautiously, making plenty of noise as you walked closer so that your voice didn't startle Ron into accidentally throwing any remaining stones at you.

"Hermione bloody Granger is what happened!" He yelled.

You made a soft sound of understanding at his near shout. "Want to tell me what she did this time?"

Ron sighed, tossing the last stone into the water as he stared at the horizon for a long moment. Then, he sat down on the roots of a nearby tree and started to explain.

"I was revising for transfiguration. Had one of my old essays out for vanishing vertebrates, you know? Figured looking at where I went wrong on something that's bound to come up on the exam would be a good idea."

"I take it Hermione had different views on the matter?" It really had become something of a thing that your entire year and to an extent the years below knew. Never, ever do anything to get Granger started on how you should be studying, and Ron's mirthless chuckle did nothing to change your previous notion.

"She freaked the hell out. Started having a go at me for having got a P on an essay in the first place, told me it was useless trying to learn from rubbish like that, and then told me if I'd followed her revision schedule I'd have already covered the topic and at this point should be onto the practical wand work," Ron spat venemously.

"You know she's wrong, don't you?" It wasn't uncommon for Hermione to tell Ron that he was doing something wrong, and you knew that being told something repeatedly would make the thought that much harder to shake. How many more times would Ron be able to take unproductive, callous criticism from a snobby know-it-all before the thoughts became a fundamental part of his psyche?

"I know but... she just makes me feel like an idiot! I don't get the theory behind magic at a drop of a hat like she does! Hell, most of us don't. But you make one little mistake in your homework and she gets so bloody condescending," Ron sighed. Many thought he was lazy when he tried to get Hermione to do his homework. In truth, it was so he knew what she was expecting in the essay to avoid a rant - her, not the teacher!

"It sounds like it's gotten worse than normal. Actually it sounds like how she behaved when you dated Lavender last year," you commented. To be fair, dating was a very loose term for what Ron and Lavender got up to. It was too public to be just friends with benefits, but there weren't really any romantic feelings. The PDA was a bit much at times, but it was rarely ever Ron that initiated those instances.

"Ugh, don't remind me. I still have the scars from them birds! Mental, she is," he exclaimed. And yet, as you looked closely, you can't help but notice the tips of his ears were getting very red.

"Wait a minute - you're not dating Lavender again are you?!" His eyes widen in shock and he shakes his head, waving his hands in adamant protest.

"Merlin, no! I don't even - " He pulled a face of disgust. "I mean, I dunno, can't believe I dated her in the first place I suppose. Seems like a lifetime ago."

He was lying (you could tell from the way he fumbled for an explanation), but that was okay. You knew the sentiment was true even if he was sidestepping what he was honestly thinking about. You were curious, but you weren't going to push it. This wasn't the time for an interrogation by any means. Thus, you decided to change the topic entirely.

"Do you still feel up to studying some transfiguration? I have some books from the library and all my notes. I even have some cauldron cakes." When he refused both the studying and the food, you smiled sadly at him. "Okay. Well how about we go down to the quidditch pitch?"

And that was exactly what the pair of you did. You didn't feel like flying, so you sat in the stands and watched as Ron flew for a couple hours. He zoomed around the pitch in patterns you recognised from quidditch practice drills, before enchanting the practice quaffle so that he could work on his keeper skills. You called Dobby when you were sure Ron wasn't looking, and when Ron eventually joined you in stands, it was to find a delicious bowl filled with a generous helping or rhubarb and apple crumble waiting for him.

"I thought you might have worked up a bit of an appetite. Some of those drills looked tough," you admitted when he stared silently in surprise, mouth gaping.

"It's like you read my mind!" was all Ron managed to say before he was practically inhaling the food, shovel sized spoonfuls disappearing with complete gratitude no matter how swift.

"I just know you, Ron," you laughed. It should gross you out how much he ate so quickly, but his only fault at foodtime was talking with his mouth full. None ever spilled on his clothes, and his chin was remarkably clean.

When the pudding was half gone, Ron slowed down enough to process what you had said. "How d'you mean, you know me?"

"Well, when you're really upset, you don't want to eat, but flying makes you happy. When you've had a fight with Hermione, you usually tend to prefer something filling and pies and crumbles are your go to when you're feeling a bit down still."

He stared at you like he'd never seen you before. No one else had ever noticed - or at least mentioned - knowing what he liked to eat and when. Oh sure, lots of people had commented on his appetite and knew him not having much of one was a sign something was wrong, but the nuances? What food went with what situation? That was all you.

And, he realised as he ate in companionable silence next to you, this wasn't the first time you knew what he wanted to eat after having a falling out with his friends or stressed out about exams. The cauldron cakes you had in your bag, he liked to eat them when he was feeling nervous about school work. He rarely saw you eat them though so... did you keep some in your bag just for him? And there were all those other times too, when you just seemed to know when he was actually hungry and when he was just bored.

There was a plethora of things unique about his relationship with you that he adored, and he had sort of had thoughts that weren't strictly platonic about you, but this little insight into how much you knew about the things that went unsaid was what made what he was about to do next feel so incredibly right.

"Er, Y/N, I was wondering... would you like to go on a date some time?"

[xbellaxcarolinax]

Naranja

Pairing: Ivar x reader

Word Count: 1365

Warnings: None, just FLUFF.

Summary: The discovery of a certain fruit leads to another discovery that Ivar wasn’t prepared for.

Beautiful mood board made by the amazing @flowers-in-your-hayr​ 

This was written for the equally amazing @youbloodymadgenius​‘s 1k challenge! Thank you for allowing me to participate and congrats again! I haven’t been in the writing spirit due to lack of inspiration and confidence, but writing this helped with my writers block, so thank you!! 

Shout out to my beta reader @shannygoatgruff​ 

Prompt is in bold. As always, I tagged those who might be interested. Hope ya’ll like it!

...

King Ivar usually slept on his stomach. The position made it far simpler to reach for the weapon he slept upon should the occasion call for its use.  

  His eyes shot open when the bed shifts, his hand immediately burrowing under his pillow to retrieve his trusty dagger. But, there was no danger afoot. No, just his wife giggling to herself in the early hours of dawn, eating from a clay bowl in her lap. 

  “My love,” Ivar groggily whispers over to her, lazily shaking his messy hair from his eyes. “Is there a particular reason for...whatever it is you’re doing? It is barely dawn.” He observed her curiously, releasing his hold from the hilt of his dagger and draping his arm over her abdomen instead.  

  “Naranja.” She brings her sparkling gaze to meet his tired one, uttering the foreign word that, to Ivar, had no meaning. 

  “Hmm?” 

  “Naranja!” She repeats the word again, producing from the clay bowl a sweetly fragrant...something. 

  “Well,” Ivar eyes it wearily, “What is it?”  

  “Can you not see that it is a fruit?” She brings the object closer to his line of vision, and he found himself closing his eyes as soon as the scent of it dominated his senses. It smelled wonderful. “The merchant trades it from Al-Andalus. The Saxons call it orange.” Ivar always did have a softness for her childlike enthusiasm, and over a fruit no less. And so, he indulges her. He lifts himself to his elbows to inspect the object further despite his overwhelming desire to fall into slumber again.

  “Is it eaten like an apple?” He brings his finger to scratch a nail over the fruit's surface, surprised at the strange texture and momentarily horrified at the thought of having to take a bite of something so rough to the touch. 

  “Let me show you.” Putting the bowl between them, she began to peel at the thick skin, revealing the soft guts that she claimed were good to eat. Her fingers worked to split the pieces apart, gently placing one on his bottom lip.  

  “Here.” She offers. Ivar spread his lips obediently, his teeth tearing at the foreign fruit. The juices burst in his mouth and his eyes grow round at the citrus flavor coating his tongue. He stopped chewing for a moment, his drowsiness disappearing as he gazed at his wife in pure delight. The taste was something he had never encountered before. It was bitter, yet somehow sweet.  

  Ivar reached over to snatch another piece of the delicious fruit from her palm, licking his lips free of the sweet juice, but she quickly moved her hand back and away from his eagerness. 

  “I am hungry, and they are mine.” 

  “How is it that suddenly, you are always hungry?” Ivar mutters, maneuvering himself to sit upright, “And at odd hours of the day. I fear the kitchens will be empty come winter.” That earned him a weak blow to the nape considering he married a shieldmaiden and a strong one at that. How could he have known she was saving her strength for more strenuous activities that would happen in nine months’ time? 

  “Well, with that kind of talk, I suppose I have no reason to disclose any news to you.” That familiar stubborn tone of hers was rearing its head, just as it did when they were children, and Ivar refused with all his might to play games with her. That refusal had not lasted long now that they played other games. 

  “What? What news?” He demanded, wrestling for another piece of fruit only for her to shove the rest of the pieces into her mouth in retaliation. 

  “Mm–news that perhaps should wait—Hey!” Ivar successfully snatches another naranja from the bowl she failed to hide, giving his back to her like a little mouse feeding off cheese as he clumsily began peeling the tough skin.  

  “Ivar!” She throws her arms over his shoulders in a fit of giggles, unsuccessful in her endeavor to snatch the fruit away from him. 

  “I will only eat half!” He promises. 

  “But that is the last one! 

  “Then I will buy you more, woman!” 

  “The merchant only has a limited supply, and I am sure that Hvitserk has purchased the last of them, the hungry fool!”  

  “Then I suppose you shall have to wait for the merchant to come back next year.” 

  “But I am eating for two!” They both pause simultaneously as soon as she said those words. Ivar turns to face her again, a barely peeled naranja in his weak grip. His eyes were bigger than the moon, just as they were the first time he had seen her nakedness in their adolescence.  

  “What?” He asked stupidly, placing the fruit down to slowly move closer to her. She plops back down on the bed, biting her lip with eyes turned away. “What did you say?” His tone drops to something sickly sweet, so unlike him in the face of the rest of the world, but very much in character with how he treats his beloved wife and queen.  

  “Nothing.” She says quickly, the half-peeled fruit they were both fighting over now forgotten. 

  “I must admit, you had my curiosity,” Ivar points at the fruit laying between the sheets as if speaking to it directly before turning to address his wife, “But now you have my attention. Go on, please.”  

  “I... wanted to be certain.” She breaks into a shy smile, playing with the ends of her braided hair as she always did when nervous, “And I did not want to disappoint you if it were untrue.”  

  “So, you mean to say…” Ivar trails off, the blue of his irises shifting into brilliant tones as their chambers slowly lit up with the rising sun. The corners of his mouth twitch as if fighting away a smile. She nods, her lips stretching into an infectious grin that Ivar found himself reciprocating. 

  “In a few months, there will be three of us fighting in bed over fruit.” She confesses, squealing in glee as Ivar moved the naranja aside and tackled her down onto the warm furs, peppering sweet, sticky kisses over her face in his joy. 

 “Are you happy?” She asks over his plush lips, already knowing the answer. 

  “How can I not be?” With one final kiss, Ivar falls on his back, bringing her to his side in one quick swoop of his toned arm. His other hand reaches for the fruit that he was somehow still conscious of. He takes it and gives it one last look of longing before relinquishing it to his wife. “Here. You deserve it more than I do.” Without missing a beat, she snatches it from him with quick fingers, removing the rest of the protective skin and ripping off the slices one by one before popping them in her mouth as if she had not eaten in days. Once she licked her fingers clean, she shifted enough to gaze at Ivar, finding that he was already watching her with clear amusement.  

  “My love?” And then there was that other tone, the sweet one she uses when whispering in his ear as they make love right before a battle. 

  “Hmm?”  

  “I lied.” His brow wrinkled and his eyes narrowed just a bit, his mind already racing at the thought of her lying about a child. 

  “Wh–” 

  “The naranjas. There are many more in the kitchens,” She smiles, a giggle bubbling up in her chest as soon as Ivar’s signature pout blooms, “The temptation to see you in such a state over a fruit! Not in the years that I have known you have you reacted so passionately!” 

  “Has my growing child caused you to forget how passionate I am for you? I should hope not.” He grumbles, bringing her flush to his bare chest and closing his eyes for another hour of well-deserved sleep before his demanding day as king would begin.  

  When dusk had spread its wings over Kattegat, and their meal was being laid out, the king's wife stifles a laugh behind decorated fingers when she hears her husband in the kitchens demanding naranjas for supper. 

...

@heavenly1927​ @didiintheblog​ @a-mess-of-fandoms​ @leilabeaux​ @shannygoatgruff​ @inforapound​ @walkxthexmoon​ @hecohansen31​ @flowers-in-your-hayr​ @youbloodymadgenius​ @peachyboneless​ @fuchsiagrasshopper​ @pomegranates-and-blood​ @pieces-by-me​

[dizzydancingdreamer]

What Am I? | Kol Mikaelson

Hello my lovelies! Am I back doing my thing where I write for three days straight and then go missing for three weeks? Probably! But I’m not one to complain so I’m going to ride out this streak of inspiration for as long as I can! I’m not sure if any of you had the joy to read any of the chaos between @activist-af and I but if you did than you know exactly how I feel about Kol. Perhaps this can be my ode to him. Until next time, all my love <3

Description: Kol finally breaks from all the years of feeling like the bad guy

Pairing: Female!Reader x Kol Mikaelson

Warnings: It’s angsty at the beginning but it’s fine

Word count: 2.6k

Tags: Angst, Fluff

P.S. I strongly recommend listening to Paralyzed by NF while you read this because I had it on a loop the whole time and it really sets the mood

(Pics not mine but mood board is :) )

“Kol, stop!” your lungs are burning, your legs numb from trying to keep up with him.

He storms across the compound, not quite at full speed but fast enough to ensure you have to run to keep up with him. His shoulders are tense, his eyes locked in front of him. You can feel the anger rolling off of him in thick, hot waves. You’re not a vampire by any means but you don’t need super senses to understand how dangerous he is at this moment. Whatever, you don’t care. He’s not going to ignore you, you won’t let him.

“Fuck, Kol!” you grab his arm, tugging with all your strength, “god damnit, stop walking! Talk to me!”

He yanks his arm forward but you don’t let go. Instead your body swings forward with his movements, bringing you closer to him than you’ve been able to get all day. You shake your head. All week would be more accurate. Your best friend has been avoiding you all damn week and you have no idea why. You’re done waiting for him to tell you. If you have to rip away every layer of him to get to the bottom of this, you will.

“Let go of me, y/n,” he continues to stare forward, his jaw tight, “I don’t have time for this.”

You scoff, trying to ignore the way your chest stings, “no time for what, Kol? Me? What on earth is going on?”

He just clenches his jaw tighter, looking to the side. This time your chest feels like it’s being cracked open. You let go of his hand, taking a few steps away from him. You don’t know what the fuck has gotten into him but you don’t like it, not one bit. This isn’t your Kol. Your Kol is sweet. This is a monster. You haven’t ever dared to think of him as such but today, you suppose, his true colors are showing. 

“Who the fuck are you?” 

The silence after your words is deafening but it doesn’t last long, seconds at the most. It’s like a dam breaks in Kol. No, that’s not strong enough. It’s like the tectonic plates inside him shift and it sends a tsunami storming to the surface. He whirls around, a myriad of emotions swirling through his eyes. He takes a step towards you, a darkness you’ve never seen hanging over his features. You take a step back, you're not completely stupid. You have no misconceptions about what’s happening. You’re the beach in this situation, and you’re about to get destroyed. 

“You really want to know who I am?” He takes another step towards you, a tiger on the prowl. 

You raise your chin but still step further away from him. He’s never hurt you before. Hell, he’s never even yelled at you. But today there’s something in his eyes, something dangerous, and you’re only a human. You grit your teeth, feeling much weaker than the front you’re putting on. 

“I know who you are and this isn’t it!” you spit the words at him, hoping they’ll break through the storm that’s clouding his features.

He laughs but it’s dry; humorless. Your heart zaps again. He’s still moving towards you and you’re still moving away from him.  This game of cat and mouse is slowly becoming lethal.

“No, darling, you don’t,” despite the circumstances you can’t stop the way your body sings at his term of endearment, “you don’t know a damn thing about me.”

You take another step back and freeze, your back colliding with the wall. Crap. You hold your arms out towards him but he doesn’t stop, closing the space between you and him even when your hands land on his chest. You can feel the heat rolling off of him through the shirt he’s wearing. He’s like a furnace, lulling you despite the clear threat he poses. You dig your nails into his chest, pushing back with as much fire as you can muster.

“Kol, please, you know that’s not true,” you back your head against the wall, biting your lip at the slight pain, “just talk to me. Please. You’re scaring me.”

You’ve never had to say those words before and you hate them but not as much as you hate the way Kol flinches, like he’s taken a bullet, and backs away from you. He drags a shaky hand through his hair, his eyes squeezed shut. Your breath hitches, your blood running cold. When he opens his eyes they’re glassy. If your chest felt like it was being ripped open before, now it feels like someone reached inside the crack and tore out your heart. 

“I-,” Kol stares into your eyes for a moment before turning away from you, “you need to go. Now. Don’t come back.”

You can’t breathe, you're just stuck, glued to the wall while all the oxygen is sucked from the room. You’re helpless, watching him walk away. Your heart is in his hands but you can’t get it back. You can’t move. You don’t want it back anyway. It means nothing without him. You slide down the wall, your eyes glued to his retreating figure. 

No. You furrow your eyebrows. No, he doesn’t get to walk away from you, not after this long. Who does he think he is? You push yourself up, a wave of red hot something flooding your entire being. It laces your blood with fire, one you’re pretty sure can only be quelled by the man walking away from you. You don’t think, you just go. 

You clear the space between the two of you in seconds, your hands once more wrapping around his arm, “No, you don’t get to walk away like that. You don’t get to leave me, Kol Mikaelson! I won’t let you!” 

He freezes, his body going tense. He doesn’t try and yank his arm out of your grasp again. You stare at him, refusing to look away, afraid that if you do he’ll disappear. He sucks in a breath, swallowing harshly. You watch his adam's apple bob and fight the agonoy eating at your core. Come on Kol, turn around. 

As if hearing your thoughts he spins around, his arm breaking from your grasp. You don’t have time to feel anything from it, though, before he grabs your jaw, forcing your eyes to meet his. When you do you gasp, a chill running down your spine. His eyes are pitch black, nothing near their usual honey shade, and the skin around them is a sickly purple, dark blue veins running towards his cheeks. 

He sucks in another harsh breath, his nostrils flaring and his chest brushing yours, “do you honestly think that I could ever leave you?” he laughs bitterly, his eyes flitting over your face, “I couldn’t leave you if I tried. But I need to. Don’t you fucking get it? I’m a monster!”

This time it’s you who flinches. You wrap your hands around his arm, clinging to him as his words pour over you. You can’t breathe again but this time it’s a little different. It’s less agony and more breathlessness. You tighten your fingers, trying with everything you have to anchor yourself to him. 

“No you’re not,” you grit your teeth, meeting his harsh stare head on, “you’re not a monster, Kol! You’re so many things but you’re not a monster. You can’t be.”

His grip on your jaw lessens, his shoulders sagging. The black in his eyes begins fading, the veins receding and leaving nothing but his usual dark circles. Your heart clenches at the sight. He clearly hasn’t been sleeping. 

“Yes I am,” he mutters, his voice rough, “all I do is hurt people. Fuck, I’m hurting you right now!” 

You shake your head, trying to push back the flood of tears that suddenly blurs your vision, “No, Kol, you’re not,” your voice is thick, the lump in your throat a mountain, “you could never hurt me. Not in the way you’re thinking. You only hurt me by leaving me. Please, don’t leave me.” 

His hand fully loosens as he slumps to the floor, your words the final push to his crumbling will. He buries his head in his hands, his shoulders shaking. He’s crying. You are too, your heart in pieces at the sight of your best friend. The man you love. The best thing you’ve ever had now reduced to his knees. Pain explodes in your chest and your palms sting, an icy burn running up your arms and hitting your heart dead on. 

He lifts his head, revealing bloodshot eyes laced through with hell itself, “I don’t even know who I am anymore. I can’t separate anything in my head. The anger and the hurt, all of it! I can’t remember where I stop and everyone else starts. Who the fuck am I?” His voice cracks and, with it, your heart, “I’m just this fuck up to everyone but I haven’t even had the chance fuck up!” 

Your chest aches desperately for the man at your feet. You know what he’s talking about. A thousand years of life and yet only awake for a fraction of it. That would make any reasonable being crumble and it would take significantly less than a thousand years for most. You don’t know how the hell he does it. You haven’t died once. You’re only supposed to die once. He’s died a hundred times. Oh, Kol. You drop to your knees and pull him against you, crushing him to your chest to the best of your abilities.

“You don’t have to know who you are. I know who you are, Kol, and I’ve always known. You’re the strongest person I know. You’re my best friend. You’ve fought off death, and hunger, and your family. You don’t have to fight me off too!” you run your hands through his hair, pulling his face to meet yours, “you can rest now. You’re mine, Kol Mikaelson, that’s all you need to know.”

It’s surreal, to say the least, telling a vampire who he is. He should know better than anyone. After all, he’s supposed to have had a thousand years to figure out. Your chest squeezes painfully when you think of the years that were stolen from him. You run your fingers over his cheek, your thumb swiping some stray tears. 

He leans his face into your hand and you sag against him, cool relief fighting the fire in your veins. It’s the sweetest feeling you’ve ever experienced. Kol wraps his arms around you, pulling you into him. Even when kneeling he towers over you, curling around you. You can’t stop the sobs from coming and you don’t want to, gripping his shirt painfully. A week's worth of fear and worry pours out of you and he takes it like the rock he is. Maybe you’re the tsunami and he’s the beach after all.

He slips a hand into your hair, tugging gently to make you look at him, “I’m yours?”

His eyes are red rimmed and full of something that makes you ache. His lips swollen and red. His hair, mussed from your hands and his, sticks up at all angles. It doesn’t make him look bad, though. No, it makes him look like a fallen angel. His skin catches the light, a golden hue painting his features, pooling in the circles under his eyes. Your hands tighten on his button down, if that’s possible, and you swallow hard. He’s yours and you aren’t letting him go, not for the next thousand years. 

“Yes,” you nod your head hard, trying to drill into him how , “yes, you are. All mine. Just like me to you. I’m all yours Kol. Every part of me.”

His eyes darken again and the ache intensifies, curling around each nerve in your body and setting everything on fire. He’s no longer an angel. Who are you kidding, he was never one in the first place. He’s always been your demon, the one who crawled straight from hell to be with you. Looking into his eyes, you bite your lip, power surging through your veins. He survived a thousand years only to end up in your arms. His chest rumbles against yours, his hands finding your hips and hauling you into his lap. 

He takes your face in his hand again, a little rougher than before but you don’t care, “all mine. Always mine, do you hear me? I’m not just some short term fling. You’re mine until the end.”

Your heart hammers in your chest, your stomach a ball of white hot need. It’s final, there’s no allusions now, not that there ever was any. You love him. With every fibre of your being you love Kol Mikaelson.

You move your hands to his face, bringing his face down to yours, “Until the end, Kol.”

You smash your lips against his as soon as the words pass your lips, your fingers dragging through his hair. It’s like silk under your fingers and you can’t resist pulling at it. He moans into your mouth, the sexiest sound you’ve ever had the pleasure of hearing, and squeezes your hip with his hand, bolts of lightning zapping straight to your core. You pull his bottom lip between your teeth, biting down hard. He meets each nip with one of his own, running his tongue over your bottom lip. His mouth is like magic, spreading a warmth through each of your bones, one that melds with the inferno raging through your being.

“Darling,” he moans into your mouth again, his arms wrapping around your waist, “fuck, I need you.”

You tie your arms around his neck and cross your ankles around his hips, pressing yourself as close to him as you can get. You can feel the hard plains of his stomach against yours, the heat from his chest seeping against your blazing skin. You crash your lips against his harder, his fingers digging into your hips and pulling incoherent muses from your mouth. You can’t get enough of him, he’s like water. Like oxygen. Without him you would most certainly die. 

 “Then take me, Kol, I’m yours. Please.” 

His answer is a growl, one that sends more of the endless heat pooling in your core. There’s no way he can’t smell you right now. You can smell you. He must be fucking bathing in how much your want him. How much you need him. You run your fingers down his back, clawing at his shirt. He stands suddenly, jostling you against him deliciously. Before you can blink you’re in his bedroom, bouncing against his deep blue comforter. His room smells like him, like nutmeg and cloves, and it hits you hard, intoxicating you with everything Kol. 

He pulls his shirt over his head, tossing it quickly to the side before settling over you. You run your fingers up his back, admiring the way his muscles tense under your fingers before pulling him against you. You wrap your legs around his hips, rolling against him hungrily. He wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you flush against his heaving chest. His nose brushes your cheek and you sigh, his lips finding your ear. 

When he speaks his words whisper against your skin, sending toe curling shivers down your spine, “I love you. You hear me? I love you, darling. It’s you and me.”

You arch your chest against him, digging your fingers into his hair and pulling his lips to graze yours, “I love you, Kol Mikaelson. If you ever need to know who you are just remember this. No matter what else, you’re mine,” you press your mouth against his, using your tongue to punctuate the most important words you’ve ever said, “that’s all that matters. Mine.” 

“All fucking yours.”

[chickwiththepurpleguitar]

Sending you more prompts as promised because I want alllll the words from you. :)

Luke/Bobby, eating super spicy food, idiots in love (as always lol)

this is pure sappy chaos but i hope you like it!! Tagging @where-you-go too cause you said you liked my sappy stuff :) and @julies-butterflies cause i stole some Reggie characterization of hers that will appear in chapter three of our collab (so look out for that tomorrow *wiggles eyebrows*)

read on ao3 here!

--

It starts, as all stupid things do, with a dare.

Because here’s the thing, and sometimes he’s able to forget because of all the crazy musical talent going on—Bobby’s friends are idiots .

Even Alex, arguably the most competent of the four of them, gets caught up in Luke and Reggie’s schemes and forgets where he put his common sense sometimes. Bobby can’t count the number of times he’s had to bail one or more of them out of some troubled spot or another—and in just the six months he’s known them!

And not to say Bobby’s any kind of genius himself. He had to redo the first grade cause he’s shit at math and worse at reading. He used to take the fall for all kinds of stupid stuff his brother did growing up, just because he didn’t realize it’d get him in trouble until it was too late. He’s gotten caught up in his own number of Luke and Reggie schemes, though admittedly that’s mostly because he is a slave to the puppy dog eyes.

But Bobby’s from New York. He’s eaten foods from every country in the world a thousand times over. Not even he is stupid enough to indulge in his friends’ spice-eating contest.

“Come on, Bobby!” Reggie calls from his place across from Luke, on the floor in front of the coffee table. “It’s no fun if it’s just the two of us, and Alex already said no.”

“Because I have a single inch of self-preservation,” Alex pipes up from the loft, where he’s sitting with his legs stuck through the railing, a can of 7-Up in his hand.

“This was your idea,” Bobby points out.

Alex shrugs, smirking, and takes a sip of his soda. “Better them than me, man.”

Bobby rolls his eyes—

“ Bobbyyyyyyy… ”

—and then freezes, eyes purposefully locked on Alex’s dangling feet. Because the whine is one thing—the whine cuts straight to his heart and makes his knees go weak, but at least he can strike up a conversation, or plug his ears and shout la la la until he manages to ignore it—but the eyes are quite another.

Bobby’s whipped, okay? If he looks Luke Patterson in the eye right now, he’s going to cave, he just knows it.

“ Bobby ,” Luke whines some more. “Alex dared all of us, you can’t just leave Reg and me hanging!”

“You guys are idiots,” Bobby says, still refusing to look over at him. “Alex dared us, but you said yes because you’re idiots.”

“Yeah, but you love me,” Luke says, all smooth and casual, like it doesn’t cost him anything, like it’s easy.

Bobby snaps his gaze over, face flushing hot. Sure enough, Luke’s grinning at him, wide-eyed and innocent, like an eager puppy waiting for his treat. A stupid, dumb, beautiful, brilliant puppy with incredible biceps and an intoxicating kiss to match. Bobby does love him, that’s the dumbest thing about it. He could never say it, though, not out loud, not in front of people, not with the totally unashamed ease that Luke does.

But he does love him, which is why—or so he tells himself, and not because he’s lost complete and total custody of his own brain cells—five minutes later, he ends up cross-legged on the floor between Luke and Reggie, a buffet spread out across the coffee table in front of them.

They’ve got everything, from green curry and fiery pad thai to straight hot sauce in tiny glass bottles. The idea is for them each to take turns trying one dish at a time and then move down the line until one of them cracks. Alex is mostly there to watch, laugh, and call for medical support if any of them ends up burning their tongues off.

Reggie bows out first, because—despite his uncanny ability to shotgun just about anything without so much as making a face—he’s got totally skewed taste buds, so his idea of “spicy” is carbonated water and mint toothpaste. Therefore, three ounces of mild hot sauce send him running for the house for milk and bread (because Alex read somewhere that those work better than water in these situations), his tongue hanging out of his mouth, while Bobby rolls his eyes and Luke and Alex laugh at him.

But then that just leaves Luke and Bobby, who are both competitive as all hell .

Bobby has a strong feeling he’s going to regret this. He’s going to regret this so much.

No one actually wins the spice contest. Bobby almost does when the kimchi turns Luke the color of a ripe tomato, but he just sets his jaw and pants, “M’fine. One more.”

The wasabi gets them both. They have to wrestle each other for the half-gallon of milk Reggie brings out. Alex almost has to call 9-1-1.

Finally, the boys head home, leaving Luke and Bobby alone, lying on their backs on the studio floor with milk mustaches and sweat stains on their shirts.

“You’re an idiot ,” Bobby gasps, squeezing his eyes shut.

“Yeah, I’ll give you that.” Luke scoots closer, his arm just pressing against Bobby’s. He’s way too hot for that, but Bobby doesn’t have it in him to pull away. “But you love me, so what does that make you?”

Bobby sighs and opens his eyes, turning his head to look at Luke, close and flushed and beautiful. “Guess that makes me an idiot, too.”

--

Taglist: @whenweremarried @sunsethimb0s @pink-flame @penguin0613 @fighttoshine @sunsetcurvecuddles @apples-bees @reggiescrookedteeth @brightattheorpheum @queenmolina @jandthephantoms @lexilucacia @sapphossidechick @acnhaddict @shrimp-colours @sunset-bobby @lenacarstairspotterstewart @conversationaltreestump @burntchromas @pattersonsflannel @julieandthequeers @joyandthephantoms @it-tastes-like-lizard @jatpfs

[yan-twst]

headcanons about how would yandere first year boys react to seeing their beloved darling receive her first kiss from someone else, please?

warnings: general yandere themes

ace trappola

he sees red. what the hell?!

he wanted to take all his darling’s first- their first kiss, first date! so how DARE someone else take that from him?!

ace is an impusilve, violent person when provoked; and this certainly provokes him

he’ll hunt down whoever took his darling’s first kiss and beat them up with his fists and magic. sure, he isn’t as used to fist-fights as some others, but his constant mocking and angry snarling make him terrifying

he’s angry about not being able to be his darling’s first kiss- but he’ll quickly tell himself that it’s ok. soon enough, he’ll be able to kiss them whenever he wants...

he doesn’t care if he gets in trouble for beating up the other student; in fact, he welcomes the rumours. after all, if his darling knows he’s able to wreck someone like that, it’d be better to keep him happy

deuce spade

for someone who tries so hard to become a model student and leave behind his delinquent attitude, deuce still gets fired up easily

so when he witnesses his darling have their first kiss with someone else... deuce is mad as all hell

whoever dared take his beloved’s first kiss is getting a vicious beating- bad enough to genuinely wound him seriously. deuce knows how to intimidate people into not speaking: he’ll torment this poor soul and force them not to ever dare tell a teacher about it

after all, even if he’s furious, he can’t risk being expelled- but he needs to take his rage out

he might lament that his darling’s first kiss wasn’t from him, but he’ll tell himself that it’ll be ok... a person’s worth isn’t measured by how many kisses they’ve had...! 

he isn’t angry about the fact his darling had their first kiss- he’s mad someone else kisses his beloved. he’s quite possessive, but he’ll try his best to act “normally”, hiding his darker feelings to get closer to his darling

jack howl

being possessive and protective of his crush is in his instinct, even if he hasn’t confessed yet

so when he accidentally spots his darling having their first kiss with someone else, he feels his heart shatter

jack’s moral compass may be stronger than most other nrc students, but... when it comes to romance, he may justify his own actions

to the poor soul who dared take his darling’s first kiss- good luck. jack may not directly beat them up, but he’ll challenge them to certain sports or activities where he can go wild on them: if they try to snitch, well, why would they accept a challenge from such a strong savanaclaw student?

he won’t blame his darling for this, he’ll put all the blame on the person who took his darling’s first kiss. in his eyes, they’re the ones to blame...

he’ll feel quite down about this: a first kiss is a romantic thing, and he really wanted to be his darling’s first...! the anger from this will drive him to grow closer and into his darling’s life

epel felmier

it’s amazing how such a small body can fit so much anger

a first kiss- that’s something important to him! he wanted his darling to be his first kiss, and he’d be their first kiss too, damnit! they were supposed to have that magical moment together!

he’s fuming, cursing his small body. he knows that he can’t go and challenge whoever kissed his darling- he’s more likely to get beat up if he did that...

but he cannot let this go. he won’t

when his family sends him apples, he works hard to poison one of them. he doesn’t have the skills to make a deadly poison apple that looks natural yet- but he can slip some milder poison on it... 

while he can’t kill the bastard who took his beloved’s first kiss, he’ll make them horribly sick; perhaps pomefiore’s focus on poisons did have a benefit, huh?

he’ll feel very inadequate; did his darling not want their first kiss with him because of how he looks?! well, he’ll show them how strong he can be...

sebek zigvolt

high-strung, strict sebek would never admit that sharing his first kiss with his darling was a fantasy to him; but it is

his heart shatters when he accidentally spots his beloved having their first kiss with someone else. no... 

he immediately screams at them to stop, making some feeble excuse, saying that “lord malleus is nearby, don’t do such i-inappropriate things in his presence” despite the fact malleus isn’t even closeby, but it’s enough to spook his darling and whoever kissed them away

he’s internally distraught and it shows with how odd he acts; it’s clear he’s bothered by something, but he vehemently refuses to say what it is

lilia and malleus probably try to get it out from him, and he can’t keep it from his master and his elder; he vaguely says his crush’s first kiss was taken, but refuses to say any specifics- especially the part where his obsession is eating him alive

lilia will tell him not to worry and keep going; a first kiss is not a big deal, now! he’ll surely have many chances to kiss his beloved, won’t he

he steels himself: yes, he will! he’ll make sure that he’ll have more chances...

[spacebunnywrites]

My Religion is You

Here is my piece for the Citrus Dome server collab. The server ran by the LOVELY @lemonlordleah-shinzawa-kitten​ Let me tell ya, this piece was a wild ride. Will it have a part two? Who knows. Pairing: Kaminari Denki x Male Reader Rating: E for Explicit. (Sorry, no C for Crackhead this time. Maybe some D for Dumbass though) Kinks: Mild Courting, Religious, Oral, Frottage, Clothed Sex, Chastity Cages, Virgin Reader, super low-key attempt at confinement, forced Virginity, crying while cumming, oral Word Count: 2700ish

Worship has always been a part of your daily routine. Each season you place the different fruits of the temple's labour at the altar at the top floor of the shrine. Every day you pray, lighting incense and muttering soft songs. It’s human nature, seeking answers from the Gods.

But you never expected one to answer. Especially not for you. The weather was brutal, you figured the messenger god wouldn't be able to appreciate the offerings left for him. That he would let these offerings expire and go to the wolves that surrounded the forest temple. But, when you turned around to leave the altar where offerings were housed a large crack of lightning startled you. Lightning that hit a nearby tree, knocking down a large branch. The limb falling from the top and crashing its way down. Taking other branches with it on the path downward. A cloud of ravens taking flight in the heavy rain, seeking shelter in a new tree. But that wasn't the part that caught your eye. It was the bright light coming from within the shrine.

In a flash of yellow light stood a slim man. Clad only in a long, nearly see through loincloth. It brushed the ground between his legs, and the two scraps of material were held by a thin golden chain. Small interlocking circles, woven tight enough to look closer to a rope. You could tell that his outfit wasn't complete, his chest and a single shoulder were a lighter colour than his thighs and arms. His shirt was missing. Exposing the light tone of his abs to you, eyes raking over the slender frame for a moment while your brain spun in circles.

"Where is your shirt!?" Not caring for why he had appeared. Or even how he had appeared. You assumed he was a follower that you just hadn't met yet. To be fair, you were new to the temple. A transfer from the temple in the mountains. The God of Endeavours had grown angry towards the shrines of lesser Gods. Demanding all the attention be on him as a clearly superior God. But you preferred the God of Gossip. Well… technically he was the God of Messengers. But in recent years he only carried gossip, and as such his title had changed. Most offerings were tea related, people prayed to him for their secrets to remain safe. Your old temple had prayed to the God of Gossip asking for great fortune to come their way, in the form of news from the God of Foresight. Though, the only fortune that came was bad, in the form of a rock slide that destroyed the structure. Since only young lithe men were permitted to run the temples, there was no one to rebuild the temple. Leaving all the priests without home, which is how you had ended up here. The Forest temple welcomed you with open arms. The God of Fortunes had foretold them of a misplaced virginal Shrine Maid-Man that would bring the God of Gossip to their shrine one day. 

The man before you chuckled and rubbed the back of his neck. Bouncing on the balls of his feet before shrugging softly. "Don't ask me such hard questions… I have no idea what happened to it." His free hand reaching out to grab an apple from the offering table. You slapped his hand away, scowling harshly.

"Don't touch those. They are for our God! You should know better. I ought to bring you to the High Priest for exile!" Your voice in a hushed whisper. You didn't want either of you getting caught after all. Only a few members of the temple had free access to the offering rooms. Each member hand selected. As of this moment, it was only you allowed to be in the offering rooms. Your previous partner in the duty had been moved to offering tours of the lower floors. Only you were allowed in the highest tower. Well… you, and now this near naked man apparently.

Somehow the man looked more sweet when he was ashamed. A soft flush covering his cheeks, spreading downward to tint his chest and neck as well. Blond hair in a messy style, parts of it standing on end as if he had arrived with the lighting itself. "Right. Offerings. So… everything in this room is an offering to the god?" Slowly closing the distance between you. If he wasn't so adorable, the look his face took on would seem almost predatory. Yet, you didn't have it in you to be afraid of him. Something seemed to scream that he was safe. 

"Y/N!" A voice called from the bottom of the stairs. It was the High Priest. You had taken too long leaving the offerings for the god. You turned around to announce you would be leaving in a moment, an excuse about the oil in the lanterns needing to be filled falling from your lips easily. Only slightly cut off by a loud rumble of thunder and another flash of lightning. And when you returned your attention to the man that had been with you, he was gone. The only trace that he had been there at all was a golden bracelet replacing the apple that had been left out for your god. Along with a note telling you to wear the bracelet. It was a simple cuff, shaped like a lightning bolt.

☆☆☆☆☆

Weeks passed since you last saw the strange blond. No one had any idea who you were talking about when asked. It was like he came and went with the lightning! But that was impossible. Only the Messenger God himself could travel through lightning. And there was no fucking way you communed with the god you prayed to. Sure, an offering had been exchanged for a token. But you figured that one of your fellow Followers had played a cruel trick on you. Which is why you had yet to put the bracelet on, despite how badly you wanted to wear it. The golden bracelet called to you, without meaning to you often found yourself playing with where it sat in your tunic. 

"Y/N! Why do you keep playing with your pockets, boy!? Get up to the offering rooms. Lately the offers are ignored, how did you anger the God? You won't leave the room until he shows and accepts the offerings." The tone cold as he grasped your wrist and pulled you towards the stairs leading up to the offering rooms. “There will be a guard stationed here day and night. You will go no further than the bottom of the stairs, and only to retrieve the day's offerings. Hope he shows soon, or you will starve waiting for him.” You didn’t understand how he could be so angry with you. Nothing had changed in the way you did the offerings. Yet every offering was rejected. The roosters refused to eat, all of the tortoise shells perished. It seemed everything that showed your God still cared for the temple was fading. No other temple reported these findings, it was only yours. The High Council concluding the problem was you, since you were the only Shrine Maid-Man that was allowed in the offering rooms. No one listened about the blond you met in the room those weeks ago. Everyone assumed you had defiled the offering altar and lowered yourself to one of the Sacred Prostitutes. That you had allowed such sacrilege happenings to occur in the room designed just for offerings to the God. No one listened to you insisting that you were still pure. Only the Sacred Prostitutes were permitted to have any form of intercourse, the rest of the Shrine was to remain chaste. A practice you didn’t understand. It wasn’t like the Messenger God was known for his virginity. Quite the opposite, really. It seemed that every week new stories of his conquests filled the shrine. Not to mention the Shrine Prostitutes seemed to only exist for this one shrine. You knew your old shrine certainly didn’t have them. Not with how often an orgy was often walked in on. Maybe this Shrine wasn’t all it was chalked up to be. Maybe the God of Messengers no longer wanted the Forest Temple. Had they strayed too far from him that he ignored them? You fiddled again with the bracelet in your pocket, frowning at how it called to you. You shouldn’t be attracted to the piece of metal that likely caused this discourse. You swallowed back your anger towards the High Priest and settled into your routine. Filling the oil lamps that had gotten too low, lighting any incense that had extinguished itself, opening the curtains to the windows, and polishing the wood that the altar was made of. The light of high noon filtering in and warming your flesh. Taking your mind off the way the bracelet in your pocket screamed for attention. The simple, habitual tasks easy for you to get lost in. It was comforting in a way to have only a few things to focus on. Until your stomach growled. The only food belonged on the offering table, and your devotion was strong enough to not even think about taking the offerings. ☆☆☆☆☆ You found yourself thinking of the bracelet more and more. Especially when the pangs of your hunger began to actually settle down on you. Reminding you more frequently of the last time you ate. It took every ounce of your being to not slip on the golden cuff. The cuff was what put you in the trouble that you were in. You had let some random man take one of the offerings left out, and now your God had abandoned the temple. Abandoned you. All you had left was the soft voice in your dead telling you to put the bracelet on. That everything will be okay once you wear the bracelet. But you knew that to be the voice of demons. They were trying to tempt you away from your God. Yet less than a full day of being locked into the room, you sighed and slipped the bracelet on. Succumbing to the voice calling to you. Slightly freaked out by the way static seemed to run through your body as it did. Yet nothing else changed. The sky was still a bright blue, the light breeze still fluttered the curtains, and you were still stuck in the room. Why had you expected anything different? “You finally put it on. I was wondering how long being ignored would take to work.” The soft voice whispered into your ear. Jumping at the suddenness only had you knocking your shoulder into his jaw. Watching as he pouted and stuck his tongue out to make you inspect it. “Di’I ite eye ung?” Clearly a failed attempt at did I bite my tongue. How could a demon be so adorable? How had a demon even gotten on to holy ground? It was only then that you noticed the lightning bolt in his hair. This was no demon. You had summoned Chargebolt, the Messenger God by putting on the bracelet. “Holy fuck.” Whispered as you fell back onto your ass. The simple tunic you wore parting to expose yourself, the golden chastity cage you wore glistening in the lowering sunlight. You didn’t even realize that it had happened, more focused on putting distance between you and the actual fucking God that stood before you. This time he wasn’t half dressed. His sheer loincloths connected to the upper half of his robes. Everything was so see through he might not have been wearing anything at all. Your eyes tried not to linger on his sex, but it was basically at eye level. Every scoot you took back, he took two steps forward. “Well, you did say everything in this room was an offering. So I suppose a holy fuck as you put it could be provided.” Shrugging as he began to remove his clothing. The sheer material falling around his feet with ease as he shrugged his shoulder out of the strap holding his top up and unhooked one of the thin golden chains on his hips. He didn’t seem to notice your eyes going wide as he approached. He was entirely naked before you, and seemed to actually want you. He wanted a lowly Shrine Maid-Man such as yourself. “We have to remain virgins! I…. I can’t. I’m sorry Chargebolt, God of Messengers, Teller of Gossip, Traveller of Lightning, Spiller of Tea… Um…” You couldn’t remember the rest of his monkiers at this moment. But he had stopped advancing. Brow furrowed and his head tilted as if he were a puppy and not a whole ass god. As if he had never heard of this rule before. Which was likely true. You knew your old Temple certainly didn’t have the rule. That or your Temple only had Shrine Prostitutes. Which also could be the case. At this point you didn’t know anything anymore. “Virgins? That has never been a requirement in my temples… And you wear a strange device on your loins. Is the device to keep you pure?” His hand reaching out to grab at the caged cock between your legs. Sinking down to his knees while he inspected it. The metal eventually falling off into his hands. You felt scared and excited to have a divine being between your legs. He seemed so intent on inspecting you- Oh!

A wet heat swallowed your length down. Chargebolt was using his mouth on you! Your god was defiling you in the room designed for his offerings. Had he mistaken you for an offering? You didn't mind it… no. You loved being used by your God. Chargebolt taking your virginity certainly couldn't be a strike against you. The Messenger God had a mouth clearly designed for this kind of debauchery. His tongue pressed firmly on the thick vein that ran along your underside, it swirled around the tip when he came up for air. When he sank down to bury his nose against your stomach his throat pulsed around you. Everything he did had you falling apart in an embarrassing amount of time. But you found yourself too lost in the mindless delight of the act to even warn him.

Instead you spilled down his throat with a quiet sob. Whimpering slightly as you curled around your head. It had been so long since you last got off, and now Chargebolt was getting you off. Using only his mouth as well. The God smiled and wiped at the corner of his mouth with his thumb. Pulling the digit into his mouth and sucking off the last remnants of your essence. 

"There's my pretty Angel. You look so good like that. I was right to select you as my favoured." Cooed softly into your ear before he crawled over you. Pressing quick kisses against your clothed chest. Licking the sweat away from your neck. Humming softly while he was doing so. Despite just finishing down his skilled throat, you wanted to go again. He had opened the door to your repressed sexual appetite, and now he needed to fix it. Your hips rolled up to grind your erections together. You swore you heard needy whimpers, but Chargebolt didn't seem to be making any noise. Oh- it was coming from you.

You were making those soft whimpers. Just from a little bit of friction on your newly freed cock. "Oh, Angel. You sound so sweet for me." His words whispered straight into your ear. Followed by a wet tongue licking the shell of your ear. Holy fucking hell. Was any of this supposed to feel that good? Faintly you heard yourself whispering soft pleas. Begging him for more. 

"Nothing more than this, Angel. Not on our second meeting. Allow me to relieve you once more, and then I need to leave. Keep the bracelet on. Take it off, and I can't come see you again until Incinerate, the God of Pride has a mood and it causes a storm. I felt so bad ignoring your offerings. But how else was I supposed to get you to put on my bracelet?" Soft kisses pressed against your neck as he continued to roll his hips against yours. Providing you the friction you needed to ruin your robes. By the time you opened your eyes again, he was gone. The only trace he had been there, your broken chastity cage and the cum drying on your clothing.

[keanureevesisbae]

The alluring charm of Henry Cavill - Chapter 5

Summary: After a short two day break, Adelaide finally comes back to the cottage. During their next challenge however, things don’t go to plan. 

Henry Cavill x Adelaide Park (ofc)

Wordcount: 7.9k (I know, this is a lot, but I don’t know what happened to me

Warnings: Descriptions of a haunted house and what can be found in them.

Masterlist // Previous chapter // Next chapter

I’ve been here in Italy for a week and a half now, but I have to take a small break, because the I had to travel to Switzerland. It was only for two days, to sign some papers and meet up with the director. The filming process isn’t starting for three more months, but it’s nice to know a bit more about it and to finally see the director in real life.

Plus it felt like I finally had time to breath, when I’m not being surrounded by camera’s. Henry and I prerecorded our challenges, so the schedule isn’t messed up.

Two days ago, the second episode aired and I actually liked the way people write about us and me. For once I’m not the ditz, but I’m the daredevil and actually quite smart.

I’m in the back of a taxi, as the driver soars over the roads. Thankfully he can’t hear me because of the plastic that separates us and from the looks of it, he doesn’t want to talk to me. That’s a good thing, because I see my dad wants to FaceTime me. ‘Hi,’ I say when I pick up.

Ever since I have been making a lot of money, he started to look even better and better. Not because I’m paying for his botox, but because he finally can relax. Years of overworking himself, stressing over me and my mom, it took a toll on him. Though he still works hard to make sure my mom is happy, it’s nothing compared to what he had to do.

The smile on my father’s face when he sees me is priceless. Even when I was younger, his entire face would light up when he saw me. I’m happy to know that I still have that effect on my dad, even when there is an ocean in between us and we’re on FaceTime. ‘You look so pretty,’ is the first thing he tells me.

He is an absolute sweetheart. ‘Thank you.’

‘Where are you?’

‘I’m in a taxi, appa. I went to Switzerland for my new movie. Now I’m on my way back to Italy, to the cottage I’m staying at.’

‘Right,’ he says. He tilts his head. ‘You okay?’

‘I’m totally fine,’ I tell him. ‘Why? Don’t you like the show?’

He smiles, holding his phone very close to his face, as if he is closer to me then. ‘I do, but you look tired.’

I simply shrug. ‘I’m okay. How is eomma? She likes the show?’

Dad nods. ‘She is resting now, but she loves the show. Tell me, you like this Henry guy?’

Why am I blushing? What a way to give yourself away, Adelaide Park. ‘I like being around him, yes.’

‘Don’t lie,’ he says. ‘I taught you better than to lie to your appa. You like like him, right? I can tell, you know. Your smile when you’re with him tells me enough and you do that thing.’

My brows furrow together. ‘What thing?’

‘You touchy.’

‘That sounds perverted,’ I say. ‘And by the way, I’m not touchy.’

‘You are,’ dad tells me and this man is dead serious. ‘You touch his arm in your sleep. You always do that when you sleep, touch the other person. I remember when you were little girl, maybe five, and it was summer. It was very hot. Normally at that age, you always lay next to me, very close, because you were scared. But it was too hot, so you only placed your hand on my arm, because you couldn’t sleep without psychically knowing that I was there.’

I’m so grateful that there are no camera’s around, because this is one way to get exposed.

‘Also, you are happy around him. I haven’t seen you like that in a long time,’ he says with a smile.

I lean my head against the head rest. ‘I’m always happy,’ I tell him. ‘Not just because of him.’

He simply nods. ‘I see you don’t want to talk about it. That’s okay, I understand. You don’t want to talk about your love life with your appa.’

‘This is barely a love life,’ I chuckle.

‘It’s more than you have now.’

I purse my lips together, to not burst out into laughter. ‘Thanks for putting it into perspective.’

‘You take good care of yourself?’

‘Yes, dad.’

He nods. ‘I’m very proud of you,’ he says in all seriousness. ‘Only a daughter of mine eats fried spider like it’s nothing.’

I keep thinking about that challenge. It was disgusting, sure, but it’s true what I said: I can eat anything. One time, we didn’t have anything to eat and my dad was desperate. After spending an entire day at school, with only half an apple, I was starving and crying. It was pretty rough weather outside, so he couldn’t go on his usual round of finding food behind the restaurants, something he did when it was a situation like this. He went to the garden and found us some earthworms. My mom refused to eat it, after dad sort of made a meal out of it. She told him she wasn’t going to accept that we were that poor that we needed to eat earthworms.

What was next? He was going to snatch the snails out of the yard? He was going to catch a pigeon? Go fishing in the lake a few kilometers from our house?

They started fighting. My mom was mad at my dad, my dad thought she was being ungrateful. Just to stop them from fighting, I ate the fried earthworm and despite it being disgusting, I was too hungry and needed something in my stomach. It instantly stopped them from fighting and my dad was proud of me eating it. My mom even ate one, because she didn’t want me to think any less of her, she told me years later.

We talk for a bit and then he has to hang up, since he needs to do some groceries. I stare at the picture he send me yesterday. We don’t have many pictures of us from when I was younger, but he actually found the only one we have of the three of us. It was during Christmas. Both him and my mom were home when I was seven and the neighbor came over with her polaroid camera. She made a picture of us and during a clean up session, my dad found it again.

I remember what he texted with the picture: I loved you when you were born, I loved you when you were my little princess and I still love you now you are my hardworking princess. I’m so proud of you.

I’m pulled out of my thoughts, when I see that Henry wants to FaceTime. I answer the call and see his handsome face appear on my screen. ‘There you are,’ he says, a grin spread across his face. ‘Are you almost home?’

Home. I never had a place that I called home. It was always the people that made a place home. My parents were my home and since I moved out for my career in the acting industry, I have an apartment where I stay, but it’s never a home. I can’t seem to turn it into a home.

But staying in this cottage with Henry, felt homey, but I didn’t dare to call it a home, not wanting to come across weird or desperate.

However Henry does it now and it makes my heart skip a beat.

I look at the navigation screen and say: ‘Forty minutes.’

‘I miss you,’ he admits.

This shouldn’t make me blush like it does right now. I can’t stop my smile. ‘You miss me?’ I teasingly ask.

‘A whole lot, Addy. The place is so quiet without you here.’ He flashes me a dashing smile and sits outside on the doorstep, in the nice evening sun. ‘How was Switzerland?’

‘It was okay,’ I tell him. ‘The place where we are going to shoot is beautiful.’

‘Did the director have someone in mind for the love interest?’

I nod. ‘Yes, he is thinking about asking David Castañeda again. We also starred in another movie together and he liked our chemistry.’

When I told Henry about what the movie was about, he simply raised his eyebrows. It’s about a woman who goes to Switzerland, she is a journalist and needs to write a story about a mysterious man who owns way too many dogs and no one seems to understand him.

I don’t really need to explain how the rest of the movie will go, since it’s still a romantic comedy, thus pretty self explanatory what is going to happen.

‘But if David says no…?’

‘We’re back at square one,’ I say. ‘You sure I can’t pursue you?’

‘You, Addy, can pursue me any day.’ He winks at me, but I don’t understand the joke. ‘I think you wanted to persuade me, not pursue me.’

Oh shit, this is embarrassing. I’m tempted to open the car door while we’re going this fast, simply to throw myself out. ‘Yeah, I meant persuade. Sorry, English is hard.’

Henry smiles, but it disappears when he looks at me on his screen and he tilts his head in the process. ‘Are you okay?’

‘I’m fine.’

‘You have watery eyes.’

I clear my throat, before I blink away the tears in my eyes, because I indeed have watery eyes. ‘Really, it’s fine.’

‘Sure?’

Though I want to tell him a bit more about my private life, the words never roll out of my mouth. Like something is physically stopping me. However, now I say: ‘My dad called me. Just wanted to know how I was.’

Henry nods. ‘When was the last time you saw him?’

‘Think eight months ago. I just miss him a lot, just like I miss my mom.’

‘Understandably so.’ He leans against the doorframe, while he simply stares at his screen. ‘What did they think of the show?’

‘They liked it, but they like every single thing I’m in. They rewatch interviews, movies and episodes of Remembering High School when they miss me.’ I smile, thinking about the millions of videos that my dad send me of them rewatching episodes. He would film himself and say sweet things about how his daughter is the most talented one on the screen, or that his daughter is the prettiest. I know that he sends those videos to me, but he also sends them to friends. ‘I think I just realized now how much I miss them.’

‘That’s totally understandable,’ Henry says. ‘Are you going to visit them once this is over?’

‘I think so.’

Henry smiles. ‘Well, they can be proud of you and they should be. I am proud of you too,’ he says. ‘I mean, you totally put me to shame with that food challenge. I even got a message from Angela Bassett, saying how you are by far the coolest and that I’m a wimp.’

I chuckle. ‘That’s sweet and she is right.’

We talk for a while and those forty minutes fly by. The taxi stops in front of the cottage and Henry stands up with a bright smile. He always looks so happy to see me. The chauffeur hands me my bag and after I thanked him, he gets in again and drives off. Henry walks over to me and snakes his arms around my waist, lifting me up after he pulled me close to his body. ‘I’m happy to know that you aren’t going to leave me here again in this cottage,’ he says. ‘It felt like every second went by at least seven times.’

Sure, what he said was sweet, but I can’t seem to focus on those words, since this is the tightest hug someone has given me, apart from my parents of course. This is actually the first time he is hugging me. I press my nose in his shoulder, taking in his familiar scent and I close my eyes.

I’m really home now.

He lets go of me way too quickly. ‘I made you dinner.’

‘Really?’ I ask. ‘What did you make me?’

‘Pasta bolognese. When in Rome, right?’ He points a daring finger at me and says: ‘Don’t you dare say we aren’t in Rome.’

‘I wouldn’t dare,’ I chuckle. He holds out his hand and I give him my bag, before we walk into the cottage. During dinner, I tell him more about the movie and how beautiful the little town was where we’re going to film.

‘Isn’t it tiring, though?’ Henry asks. ‘To constantly play in romantic comedies?’

He asked me this before, but I didn’t know him that well to answer truthfully. Now I do know him well enough, to at least be sort of honest, without sounding like an ungrateful bitch. I simply shrug. ‘Sometimes I wished I would get other offers, but I guess I just have the face for romantic comedies.’

‘What kind of genre would you like to play in?’

‘Like a thriller or an action movie,’ I say. ‘More serious, you know? Maybe even Lara Croft one day. That would be amazing.’

‘You would nail Lara Croft,’ he says. ‘I feel like you have a lot of potential to play in tons of different movies. You would do great in a drama too, but a thriller is something I would like you to star in. Really different from what you do now.’

‘Don’t you ever want to play in a romantic comedy or something really serious?’ I ask him. ‘A drama for example?’

‘I would like to try it out one day,’ he says.

‘I think you would be great in a romantic comedy. You have that charm that women fall for.’

Henry cocks an eyebrow. ‘A charm you say?’

‘Yeah, exactly.’ I smile at him, stirring through my pasta. ‘What is a role you really want to portray one day? I mean, you already played Superman, that was pretty awesome.’

He nods. ‘Maybe James Bond one day.’

‘Why would you want to do that?’

‘I mean… It’s James Bond. That’s almost every men’s dream.’ Henry takes a sip of his water, as he clearly is studying my face. ‘Why? Don’t you like James Bond?’

I shake my head. ‘My mom hated the movies with a passion when I was growing up. It’s kind of sexist, really. I feel like, if you should ever play a movie with something like that, you should look into a movie where they create a whole new legendary character. Just like Keanu Reeves is the start of a John Wick legacy, you could be the start of something else.’ I smile at him, before adding: ‘You deserve better than to portray James Bond, Henry.’

He plays with his food for a second, before he looks at me again. ‘You think so?’

I nod. ‘Of course. I wouldn’t lie to you.’

Henry smiles. ‘Well, I’ll consider it.’

After we finish our dinner, I take a shower and get dressed in my pajamas. Despite the fact that I only drove back to the cottage today from Switzerland, I am really tired. Before I would go to bed early, simply to avoid falling in sleep in front of him, but now we usually get in bed together. We talk about tons of stuff before we actually fall asleep, still with the wall of pillows between us.

My mind is nearly in Dreamland already. I turn on my side and wrap my leg and arm around the pillows, my fingertips accidentally caressing his soft skin. ‘You don’t mind me doing this?’ I groggily whisper, still remembering my dad’s words that I’m apparently doing that thing.

‘I don’t,’ Henry says. ‘I think it’s sweet.’

I open my eyes for a brief second and I see him already looking at me, a smile toying on his face.

‘Go to sleep, Addy. Tomorrow you and I go swimming in the morning, remember?’

‘Oh right,’ I yawn, closing my eyes again. Somehow my hand finds his and I hesitate for a second. Should I pull my hand back or just leave it here? Thankfully I don’t have to think about that, because Henry wraps his fingers through mine and whispers: ‘Good night, Adelaide.’

‘Good night,’ I mumble, slowly drifting off to sleep.

◎ ◎ ◎

The next morning, I’m back in the insanely cold pool again with Henry. We’ve done this two times before now, but I still don’t trust myself enough to do something alone in the water. Even if it’s just holding the edge, as I’m sort of swimming by myself, Henry close by. I know that even if I do that, he wouldn’t let anything happen to me.

‘No, no, no,’ I quickly say, when he suggests that same idea, for the second time this morning. ‘Don’t let go of me, please.’

‘Addy, have I ever let go of you, when you didn’t want me to?’ he asks me. He decides to answer his own question. ‘No, I have never done that, so I’m not going to do that now. I’m just going to remove one hand from your waist to hold your hand, okay?’

‘No,’ I whine.

Henry starts to chuckle. ‘What’s up with you today?’ he asks. ‘You’re shaking. Is the water that cold or are you scared?’

‘I’m scared,’ I admit. ‘I know that I have to do it myself one day and at least try a bit alone, but not today. Please.’

‘Okay, not today,’ he assures me. ‘You seem a bit tense. Is everything okay?’

I sigh. ‘I just got a text from my dad this morning,’ I whisper, but loud enough for him to hear it, maybe not loud enough for the “hidden” camera’s that are stationed in the garden to pick up. ‘It’s just that my mom has a cold and that always worries me.’

‘Why?’ he asks, as he stops walking in the water.

I don’t want to tell him, but I know that I eventually will. My arms are wrapped around his shoulders, while his fingers are circling on my skin. It’s such a small, yet caring gesture from his side. ‘My mom is paralyzed from the waist down,’ I tell him. ‘But… She… After she got paralyzed, she never got back to her old health, if that makes sense. She is very prone to colds and a simply cold can turn into a nasty flu and that can result into her needing to go to the hospital. She ended up in the emergency room a few times and each time I wasn’t home. My dad always tells me not to worry about her, just like my mom tells me not to worry, but it’s hard. I worry a lot about them all the time, especially when she’s sick.’

Henry doesn’t say anything, he simply studies my face. ‘I had no idea,’ he tells me. ‘Come here.’ He pulls me towards his body and I nuzzle my face in his neck. ‘I’m so sorry, Addy. I understand you worry a lot about them, but… I just have to ask: why don’t you tone it down with the movies, so you can be with them?’

I pull back and say: ‘Because… I want to provide for them.’

‘Why?’ His blue eyes almost look innocent. I have to hold myself in, not to brush the wet curls out of his face, not to press my nose against his cheek, to kiss his jaw, feeling the short hairs puncture my lips. I can’t stop myself falling in love with him. He is everything that I was apparently looking for in a man. He is kind, he is patient and he is caring. He knows how to cook, he can read me like the back of his hand and yesterday, the way he held my hand when I went to sleep, is making me feel all sorts of things.

But there is one thing that I know: if he ever becomes a bigger part of my life, he should know more about me. I have been dodging it for too long now, but I should tell him. And even if we don’t become an item, I know that we will end up as friends. I know that after the Celebrity Project ends, I don’t ever want him out of my life again.

‘When I grew up, we were very poor,’ I say. ‘Like, my dad had to work long hours in a factory, my mom became a live in nanny and I had to raise myself. My dad barely ate after a long day of work, so mom and I could have most of it, when my mom would be home to eat it. I went to one of the only schools that was close by and was free. It wasn’t a great school, I don’t even think my teachers remember me at all. We couldn’t afford testing for me, something that my parents didn’t even know about, because they couldn’t miss a day at their jobs and I did my own parent teacher meetings.’

‘Geez, Adelaide,’ he says. ‘I’m so sorry.’

I clear my throat, because I don’t want to cry. ‘When I was nineteen, I was working at a diner, to help meet ends back at home, since I couldn’t go to college, my mom was hit by a car and left paralyzed. The medical bills were out of the roof and she needed physical therapy, but we couldn’t afford it. And that’s the whole reason I started acting in ‘Remembering High School’. I had zero acting experience, but I needed the money. After I made that money and my year on the show was up, I got offered two different movies. A romantic comedy or a thriller, but from the looks of it, the romantic comedy would definitely make more. Thankfully I chose that movie, because the thriller was a big flop. Every penny I earned from that movie and a few after that, went to my parents, for their bills.’

Henry nods and removes his hand from my waist, so he can wipe the tears of my cheeks.  Not that it helps, since his hand is still wet from the water. ‘You are amazing,’ he says. ‘I think you are by far the most amazing woman on this earth. Do you still do that? Give your money to your parents?’

I nod. ‘I don’t really know what I should do with it and my parents worked so hard for me. This is my way of thanking them.’

Henry pulls me closer to him, his arms around my body and I let out a tiny sob that I was holding in, when I bury my face in his strong shoulder. ‘It’s okay,’ he whispers. ‘If you want to go home, you just go home, okay? I totally understand. Your family is more important than this show.’

‘I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before.’

‘No, no, no, don’t say something like that. I understand. It’s very personal and this isn’t something that you just tell people. You are amazing, Addy, please remember that, okay?’

I nod, before slowly pulling back, so I can look at him again. Henry is smiling. ‘What?’ I ask.

‘You just keep on surprising,’ he says. ‘And in these days that I’m spending time with you, I’ve gotten to know you in a way that I never thought would be possible. Angela spoke so highly of you, though she barely knew you. Now I know you quite well and I can’t speak anything but highly of you.’

I let out a nervous chuckle. ‘You don’t have to.’

‘But I will anyways,’ he smiles. ‘Let’s get out of the pool now, you are freezing.’ We go to the edge and when I climbed out, I grab my towel and wrap it around me. Henry’s perfectly shaped body, with the right hip-shoulder ratio… I can’t help but look.

‘Henry,’ I say, causing him to look up. ‘Thank you.’

He chuckles. ‘Not a single problem, Adelaide.’

◎ ◎ ◎

Dad: No need to worry. Eomma will make it, it’s a tiny flu.

Adelaide: Sure?

Dad: More than sure. Enjoy your time.

Dad: I love you 😘

Adelaide: I love you too 😘

I keep thinking about my dad’s texts. I mean, he tells me that it will be alright and I should believe him. Back in the day, he was always right and that shouldn’t change now.

After our little swimming adventure, Henry and I got ready for the day and now we’re standing in front of a haunted house, waiting for the host of today to get ready. What exactly the challenge is for today, I don’t know, but I’m not looking forward to it at all.

The rest on the other hand seem to be totally fine. Henry places both of his hands on my shoulders and I look back, placing the top of my head against his chest. Even upside down, he is beautiful looking. I bet I look like a moron. ‘Are you okay?’ he quietly asks.

‘I’m fine.’ Thankfully over the course of the years, I have become a better liar, which I think is a skill thanks to my acting career. I have always been a master at hiding my emotions, but when people get closer to me (just my parents, but nowadays Henry too), it’s harder, because they see right through me.

And right now, I’m not fine. My mom is sick and I don’t know how she is doing as we speak. We have to go through the haunted house and I’m afraid that they are going to make us go individually. I really want to go with Henry, because then I can just hop on his back, bury my face in his neck and not look.

However, this show is the stupidest thing I’ve ever participated in, because we have to go through the haunted house all by ourselves, while even doing some challenges while we’re inside.

My heart is racing and I can’t even look at the big screen outside of the house, without jumping. Henry is still standing behind me, with his hands still on my shoulders, his thumbs pressing into the tight muscles to make them less tense. ‘Relax,’ he whispers, when someone else is going inside. ‘You’re going to be fine.’

But I can’t believe him. I’m not going to be fine. Justin screams his lungs out when someone pops up in front of him, as he is trying to solve a Rubik’s cube. Jennifer is hiding in a corner, while she is singing one of her own songs. And when it’s Henry’s turn, he has to solve a sudoku, but he jumps at every little sound and that is really not easing my mind. If a man like him, who nearly tripped over his own feet because I moved the fried tarantula in his face, screams like this when he hears water drip on the floor, how the hell am I supposed to do this?

After watching everyone else go, it’s time for me. I feel like my petite frame reminds them of a kindergartner, because they all wish me extra good luck. Jennifer even pulls me into a motherly hug and whispers that I’ve got this.

But do I have it in me to finish this?

I push open the door and I step into the house of horrors. I could eat the most disgusting looking snacks and people called me a daredevil. I can manage this. This isn’t that terrifying. It’s just fake, it’s like acting.

Only this set looks scary as hell and there is no one out here to say cut.

The lights start to flicker, something they didn’t do before. How am I supposed to read and answer eventual questions if I have to do that? I take a step forward, but my heart is pounding so loud, that my eardrums hurt.

The steps are minuscule, but at least I’m taking steps forward. Every door, every corner, every closed window… It makes me hesitant, but so far, nothing has happened. Maybe the actors that work here feel sorry for me.

I could crawl over the floor, I think to myself. Maybe that would be—

Something falls down from the ceiling and bounces on the floor. I jump backwards, letting out a scream that is more a high whistle note. When I finally can open my eyes again, I notice it’s a head and just a head. ‘It’s fake,’ I tell myself out loud. ‘It’s fake.

But then the head starts to scream, causing me to scream and a tiny sob escapes my lips. No, no, no, this can’t be happening.

I quickly jump over it and hurry myself through the rest of the hall.

Because I’m simply just walking and not paying attention, I bump into a wall and I go left, but someone with a fucking knife comes out of the door and I stumble backwards. Thankfully this person keeps standing in the doorframe and I crawl past them, but he or she keeps standing in the doorway, not attacking me. ‘Thank you,’ I squeak, my throat tightening, almost like someone is physically choking me.

Okay, I managed this and I see a clipboard with some questions on a table. I press my back against the wall, so I can see everyone.

What is the capital of Russia? Easy peasy, lemon squeezy, I think to myself. If these are the questions, I’m out of here within a minute.

I hear footsteps and the light that was flickering two seconds ago, is completely out. It’s dark. Oh no, oh no, oh no.

I can’t see anything, but I hear screams and dark voices. I try to catch my breath, when the light come back on and I’m surrounded by a bloody nurse, a creepy clown and oh my, is that not one, but three zombies? They are really close to me and I can’t help up but scream bloody murder, as I hide my face behind the clipboard. ‘No, go away, go away!’

Is that a fucking chainsaw?

I open my eyes for a second, only to see that someone who looks like Chucky is really close now with a chainsaw. This doesn’t seem fake anymore. This seems way too real and my brain is going crazy. What is happening? Am I dying?

I start to cough, as the tears run over my cheeks. ‘No, stop, please!’

I hear something, but the pounding of my heart is too hard for me to hear what is happening. All I can do is cry, shake and cough as the tears nearly make me choke.

‘Addy, I’m here,’ I hear a voice say, but I keep hiding my face in my face, kicking my feet and I hit something. ‘Ouch, no, no, it’s me, Henry. Don’t worry, it’s all over.’

I peek through my fingers, to see the lights are on and all the scary people that cornered me, are gone. The only one I see now, is Henry. My cheeks are flushed and my eyes hurt from crying. I try to say something, but my breathing is all over the place.

Henry holds my hands and places one on my own chest and the other on his. ‘Try to breath with me, Adelaide,’ he says to me. ‘Now breath in deeply.’ He takes a deep breath, holds it for a second, before slowly breathing out. I try to copy him, but my breathing is too erratic. It takes at least ten times before I’m finally sort of managing. ‘Very good,’ he says in a soft tone. ‘Very good.’

‘Is it over?’ I whimper.

Henry nods, holding my hand tightly in his. ‘It’s all over. I’m so sorry that this happened to you and I’m sorry I didn’t come in here way sooner. I should’ve noticed that this was too much.’

‘Did we lose?’

‘Doesn’t matter,’ he says sternly. ‘You shouldn’t worry about that.’ Henry stands up and pulls me with him, but my legs feel like jello and simply give out, because of all the adrenaline that is breaking down. I cling onto his shirt, as he holds me up by my waist.

‘I can’t anymore,’ I cry, as I bury my face into his shirt, not caring about wiping my tears on the fabric. ‘I’m so scared.’

‘I know,’ he sighs. ‘Fuck, I know.’ He hoists me up in his arms, guiding me into wrapping my legs around his waist. ‘Don’t look,’ he tells me.

I don’t even want to look at this awful, awful place anymore, so I bury my face into his neck, as he walks out of the haunted house. He places me on the soft grass and he runs his fingers through my disheveled hair. ‘Addy, listen to me,’ he says, ‘you’re breathing is good, but you need to make sure that it stays like this okay?’

I simply nod. ‘I’m just so embarrassed.’

‘There is absolutely no need to be embarrassed,’ he tells me. ‘You can stop with this program if you want. I mean, I totally understand that you want to quit.’

‘I think I just want tomorrow off,’ I whisper. ‘And do nothing.’

‘I understand,’ he says. ‘You want to go home?’

Home. ‘As long as you are there.’

Henry smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. ‘I’m not leaving you, Addy. Not after this.’

◎ ◎ ◎

When Henry and I are home, I feel disgusting. I could actually use a shower, but I’m too afraid of standing in the shower cabin by myself and I don’t want to shower with Henry (our friendship is too fragile for that), so a simple washing cloth should do the trick.

The producers of the Celebrity Project gave me the next day off and depending on how I feel after tomorrow, I will decide whether or not I’m staying here. I don’t want to give up and I think I can overcome this.

Henry sits next to me on the couch, as we both stare at the television. We have been watching Mamma Mia, simply because of the ABBA songs and the story line is predictable and predictability is exactly what I need right now. ‘You want something to drink?’ he asks me, when the credits are rolling on the screen.

I shake my head. ‘No, thank you.’

‘How are you feeling?’

‘I don’t know,’ I whisper.

‘Do you want to go to bed?’ he suggests. ‘We could do that. I bet you are tired.’

I am tired and the fact that he said that we could do that, must indicate that he is going to stay with me, right? I simply nod and he says he is going to close off. To be alone is not what I want right now, so I follow him around the cottage like a puppy.

When we’re in bed, I ask him if he wants to leave the light on his nightstand on. I still sit up straight in bed, my arms wrapped around my knees. Henry places a hand on my back.

‘I’m scared,’ I whisper, as I feel my heart pounding painfully in my chest.

He sighs deeply. ‘I know. Is there anything I can do for you?’

I turn my head to the side, so I can look at him. ‘Can… Can you… Can you hold me, please?’ Tears burn in my eyes. ‘I’m so scared, Henry.’

He throws the pillows from the bed, before I crawl into his inviting arms. I place my head on his chest, my arm wrapped around his waist. ‘Breath, Addy,’ he whispers. ‘It’s all okay now, I’m right here with you. Nothing can happen to you now.’

However, the tears come again and they aren’t stopping. His large hand cups my cheek, his thumb caressing the skin right underneath my eye. He lets me cry, even though I have been crying a lot for the past few hours.

I force myself to stop, because I’m out of breath and I’m just too tired to cry anymore. Henry pulls me closer to his broad and heavy frame.

‘There, there,’ he says in a soft tone. ‘You are all okay now.’

‘I’m so sorry,’ I whisper.

‘No need to be sorry, Addy. You just try and go to sleep, because you are really tired and after this day… You should just sleep, okay?’

During the night, I wake up a few times, but every single time I’m closely tugged into Henry’s protective arms. Sometimes he is behind me, his face buried in my neck or my hair, our hands linked. Sometimes I have my head on his shoulder and then my face is nuzzled in his neck. But every time I wake up, he is still awake. ‘Go back to sleep,’ he whispers, his fingers drawing soothing circles on my skin.

And as if his voice is working like hypnosis, I drift off right back to sleep.

◎ ◎ ◎

The next day, Henry has been nothing but a sweetheart to me and halfway through the day, I feel a whole lot better and decide to stay here and finish the competition. I don’t care that we are last and that we are probably going to lose anyways.

The two of us decide to take a walk through a large orchard, with trees filled with apples and oranges. We end up on a lovely field and I plop down in the grass. The sun is burning on my skin, but I chose a spot near a tree, so we can alternate between sitting in the sun and the shadows.

Henry and I lean against the tree when the sun is too hot for us to sit in, as we stare ahead of us. ‘You know,’ he says, ‘I was wondering something.’

‘Tell me.’

‘You kept your personal life very private over the course of the years. Why was that?’

‘I thought it wasn’t anyones business.’ I look to the side and chuckle. ‘That’s the I try to be really tough-answer, but the truth is: I was embarrassed. No one at school knew about my situation at home and I certainly didn’t want the entire world to know.’

‘You didn’t have any friends?’

I shake my head. ‘Yet again: I was too embarrassed to share this with anyone. Besides, I was the weird girl who wore the same clothes for three days on end.’

‘Kids can be cruel,’ he says, referring to his own past.

I wrap my arms around his strong one, pressing my cheek against his bicep. ‘They can.’

‘Can I ask something else?’

‘You can.’

‘Have you ever dated?’

I place my chin on his arm, so I can actually look at him again. ‘No, I have never.’

‘You have played alongside quite a few single guys. Was there not a spark in real life?’

‘Goodness gracious, Henry, you sound like you’re in a retirement home. A spark in real life? Really?’

He chuckles. ‘You get what I’m saying.’

‘I do,’ I say with a smile. ‘But to answer your question, no, there wasn’t. I mean, I remain in contact with some of them and we’re still friendly, but I never let them in. Not like how I’m with you.’ I place my cheek against his bicep again, but one of my hands slides down his arm. He intertwines his fingers with mine and his thumb draws soft figures on my skin.

Henry nods. ‘You know,’ he says, ‘you are really one of a kind.’

‘Why?’

‘Because you do something that no one else does. You haven’t mentioned my appearance once since we are here.’

‘Really?’ I ask frowning. ‘I thought about your appearance quite a few times.’

He smiles. ‘But you never voiced it. You know, it’s flattering that people comment about my appearance, but you don’t do that. You comment about my personality traits and I don’t want to become all sappy, but… It means a lot.’

‘You are sappy,’ I mumble, causing him to laugh. ‘But since we are being sappy with one another, I should tell you that… You are one of a kind too. You give me a chance. I remember one of the first times I was having issues with speaking and you didn’t fill in the rest. You just waited till I could finish my sentence. That means… a lot. Also, Henry, you… You ran into the haunted house for me.’

‘How…’

‘I saw the footage,’ I say with a smile, remembering what I saw this morning.

He was standing outside, his arms crossed in front of his chest, a deep frown between his brows. ‘Can you just leave the lights on?’ he asked. ‘Flickering lights make it harder for Adelaide to concentrate.’

But there was no response. He shook his head, clenched his jaw and eventually he simply walked away. He went in the haunted house, pressed the “Stop” button, before rushing towards me, pulling some of the actors away. ‘It’s over,’ he told them. ‘Get the fuck out of here.’

After seeing the footage, it made my heart swell like crazy. ‘Quite romantic, really,’ I chuckle.

He laughs, but it sounds more nervous this time. ‘Well… It was nothing.’

‘It meant the world to me,’ I retort. And because of that, I think I’m even more in love with you than I already was. However it doesn’t leave my lips. I don’t want to scare him off.

‘This never happened to me before,’ Henry says. ‘Feeling about someone like this.’

‘Like what?’

‘Like how I feel about you.’ He squeezes my hand, before continuing by saying: ‘I care so much about you, Adelaide. Before you told me about your life, after you told me about your life. Even if we don’t win this contest, I did win something else. I won the privilege to get to know you.’

‘You care for me,’ I repeat, letting those words process for a bit. But that’s not falling in love with me.

‘And,’ he continues, ‘I’m slowly falling for you too.’

I resit, so I don’t strain my neck when I look at him. ‘What?’

He holds my hand tightly in his, as if he is afraid that I might slip away. ‘I’m falling in love with you, Adelaide Park.’

I bite my lip. ‘You are?’

‘I am,’ he confirms. ‘Even if we don’t win this show, I want to figure out how we can manage after this. Maybe you can even tone it down with your movies.’

I chuckle, hiding my face in my hand. ‘Maybe I can do that.’ I look at our linked hands and I whisper: ‘I’m falling love with you too, Henry Cavill.’

‘You are?’ he asks with a smile. ‘Lucky me.’

We don’t say anything. I just look into his eyes, trying to figure out what he is thinking. I can see him staring at my lips, before he moistens his own. ‘When I kiss you,’ he says, ‘there is one problem. I fear that I can’t stop then, but I also want us to remain a little secret. For time being of course.’

I nod. ‘Then you don’t kiss me.’

‘But I want to,’ he chuckles.

‘You have to pick one of the options.’

‘What do you want?’

‘I mean…’ I purse my lips together. ‘I wouldn’t mind if we kissed.’

Henry pulls me closer by my hand. I lose a bit of my balance, so I fall against his chest. ‘Careful now, Addy,’ he chuckles. ‘We don’t want any injuries, now do we?’

‘Shut up.’ I finally place my hand on his cheek and as my thumb is slowly caressing his soft skin, I accidentally graze over his velvety lips. He turns his head, to kiss the palm of my hand.

‘Can I kiss you?’ he asks against my skin, as he places his hand on mine, so he can press another, but more firm kiss on the inside of my hand. ‘You can say no.’

‘I want to kiss you,’ I hoarsely whisper. ‘Badly so.’

‘Badly so,’ he repeats with a self fulfilled grin on his face. He leans in closer to me and teasingly kisses my cheek, the tip of my nose and even my forehead. ‘Where?’ he whispers. ‘Where do you want me to kiss you?’

‘Right here,’ I whisper, before pressing my lips on his. They fit perfectly on each other. I cradle his face in my hands, as he pulls me closer to his body, though my legs are in the way. Without even thinking about it, I sit on his lap, causing him to smile underneath the kiss.

‘Badly so it was,’ he mumbles against my lips, his hands slipping underneath my shirt. He opens his mouth and carefully his tongue invades my mouth. I whimper, as his fingers dig into my back, his thumbs softly circling my stomach.

How many on screen kisses have I done?

Billions.

How many felt like this?

None.

I pull back, so I can catch my breath, but he is not giving me a break. He buries his face in the crook of my neck, pressing wet kisses on my delicate skin. ‘Can we stay here forever?’ he asks against my collarbone. ‘I don’t want to go back to the camera’s.’

‘Me neither,’ I whisper. I place my pointer finger underneath his chin, lifting his face. ‘How are we going to do this back at the cottage?’

‘Well,’ he chuckles, ‘we are already behaving like a cute couple, so we don’t have to change a lot about that. Just have to hold back the kisses.’

My fingers run through his curls, messing them up a little, but he doesn’t seem to mind. Henry simply smiles at me. ‘I think we can manage that,’ I say, smiling back at him.

‘Can I have another kiss?’ he asks.

‘You can,’ I whisper, before he captures my lips again. This kiss is even more intense and my fingers toy with the buttons of his shirt, when we hear someone clear their throat. We look up, to see a little boy staring at us, while his grandmother is screaming something in the back. ‘Maybe we should find another place,’ I suggest, stepping off his lap.

‘Yeah,’ Henry says, ‘maybe we should.’

◎ ◎ ◎

Adelaide: You were right.

Adelaide: I like Henry a lot

Dad: I’m always right

Adelaide: And I kissed him.

Dad: You didn’t?

Adelaide: I did, but please keep this a secret.

Dad: I can tell your eomma right?

Adelaide: Yes you can

Adelaide: I love you 😘

Dad: I love you too, future mrs. Cavill

Adelaide: Please, don’t.

◎ ◎ ◎

Taglist: @thelastsock​ // @jolly-polly​ // @henrythickcavill​ // @maan24​ // @diegos-butt​ / @agniavateira​ // @onlyhenrys​ // @turkish276​ //

[startanewdream]

True love’s kiss

My small contribution to Fem!Jily February that I wrote instead of sleeping. 

This week’s theme is Fairy Tales and I went with the prompt ‘Please don’t be in love with someone else’.

Or Lily decides to bite a poisoned apple and Jamie thinks muggle fairy tales are cruel.

________________________

Jamie is looking at her with such an incredulous expression that Lily wants to laugh, despite their current difficult situation.

‘That’s your big idea? Eating the apple?’

Lily sighs, glancing again at the shining red apple sitting quietly in the pillar right in front of the enchanted mirror.

‘Yeah’.

‘This is obviously a trap -’.

‘I know, Jamie’, Lily says, looking back at Jamie’s hazel eyes. Her girlfriend looks so distressed that Lily wants to fill her with kisses until Jamie relaxes into her arms.

But, again, their current situation is not the right moment. They are in the middle of a mission after all.

‘But if I get it right, the only way we will manage to reach that mirror is if we eat the apple’.

‘It can be poisoned’.

‘It is most definitely poisonous’, Lily agrees, and when Jamie looks at the edge of arguing with her, she takes her hand, entwining their fingers and hoping this makes Jamie listen to her. ‘I think it’s based on Snow White’.

‘What? All snow is white’.

Lily raises her eyebrows.

‘I thought you took Muggle Studies. You didn’t study fairy tales?’

‘What tales could be about fairies? They are nasty’.

‘Oh, Jamie. It’s stories muggles tell to their children. Like wizards got that Bibbidi-Boddibi rabbit -’

‘Babbity Rabbit?’, asks Jamie, amused. Lily shrugs. ‘Why would Voldemort care for a muggle tale?’

‘Well, the rumour is he is a half-blood, right? He would have heard of them. It would be a perfect disguise, most wizards don’t know about it. And if they do - well, it is still perfect. You see, in the story, the apple is poisoned’.

Jamie pinches the bridge of her nose under her glasses, looking even more stressed.

‘Lils…’

‘But there is a happy ending’, Lily says hurriedly. ‘It goes like this: once upon a time, there was the most beautiful princess ever and she was called Snow White, but her stepmother was jealous because Snow White was the fairest of them all. So her stepmother sent a hunter to kill her and take her heart -’

‘That’s a children’s story?’

‘Just hear me out. The hunter took pity on her because she was really beautiful and kind, so he let her escape. Then she found a house with seven dwarves -’

‘What’s the problem with dwarves?’

‘None, they are nice. They had a small cottage in the woods and they took care of her because -’

‘She is beautiful, yeah, I get it’.

‘Then the evil stepmother found out Snow White is alive -’

‘She didn’t know when the hunter didn’t deliver the heart?’

Lily bits her lips nervously and, just as it happens every time she does, Jamie raises her free hand to touch her lips, until Lily kisses Jamie’s finger and relaxes.

‘Don’t get too sad, but the hunter took a deer heart instead’.

As Lily expected, that makes Jamie open her eyes, shocked.

‘That’s cruel!’

‘Well, yeah, that’s the point. Evil stepmother, remember? Anyway, the stepmother disguised herself as an old woman and offered Snow White a poison apple’.

‘And she takes it?’

‘Well, Snow White was really kind - a Hufflepuff, I think - and it was a nice old lady. There was no harm apparently’.

'That's so naïve. Who would be that stupid to take an obviously poisoned apple?'

Lily ignores her jab.

'Well, she bit the apple and then Snow White fell into a deep sleep. The dwarves thought she was dead, but they didn't dare to bury her because -'

'Let me guess, she is beautiful'.

'Yeah, that is the point of her story. So she was buried in a glass coffin and a prince came and kissed her'.

'He kissed an apparent dead girl? How is that right?'

'I think they've met before, I don't remember - but, well, in any case, it's a true love's kiss and that is the most powerful magic for muggles'.

That brings a soft smile to Jamie's lips, and as always when her girlfriend grins, Lily finds herself smiling too.

'That's universal, Lils. Love is the most powerful thing'.

'Let's hope you are right', Lily says bravely. 'And please don’t be in love with someone else'.

'Why - don’t give that look, Lily'.

'What look?'

'My look. The one I have when I am about to do something very stupid'.

Lily smiles.

'Just remember to take the mirror', she says, rising on her tiptoes to press a soft kiss in Jamie's lips and before Jamie can react, Lily grabs the apple from the pillar and takes a bite.

For a second, Lily only feels the sweet taste of the apple - then everything is dark.

_________

If Lily isn’t already dead, Jamie will kill her girlfriend.

But since she refuses to believe Lily is dead, Jamie gets to work. She lays Lily on the floor, as comfortable as she can manage. Lily looks like she could be sleeping, but her face is so pale and still, hardly breathing at all, that the image sends shivers through Jamie's body.

She can't lose Lily. She won't.

Jamie takes the mirror, who tries to talk to her for some reason, but she manages to defuse that last protective spell. All reports promised that the mirror is important, and she hopes they are right.

It already seems to be costing too much.

When she finally puts the mirror away safely in her enchanted bag, she returns quickly to Lily's side, kneeling and placing Lily's head on her lap.

She thinks Lily was right. Voldemort would not want to kill the person who found that room - he would want the person alive in an enchanted sleep so he could interrogate them later.

But she is not sure if Voldemort would allow a true love's kiss to break the spell like in the story Lily told - maybe there is an antidote only he has, and Lily is the best potion maker of them.

Merlin, she is so stupid - why didn't she bite the apple before Lily could?

Jamie feels panic rising inside her and looking at Lily doesn't help. Lily looks so not like her vivacious self that it hurts Jamie. She wants to see Lily laughing, giving her some snide answer and looking at her like she is the most precious thing in the world.

She closes her eyes and tries to imagine what Lily would say if she was there helping her.

'Why are you not kissing me, Jamie Potter?'

Oh, yes, she had forgotten.

Jamie looks at Lily again and carefully takes her auburn hair out of her face, caressing her face like she already did a hundred times before. Her skin is soft and her cheeks are still warm and flushed, and that gives Jamie the courage she needs.

'I love you, Lils', she whispers and, hoping with all her heart this will be enough, Jamie touches Lily's lips with her own.

It seems to take forever, but only two seconds later, she feels Lily's breath and then Lily’s lips moving against hers, soft and demanding as always, and her heart skips a beat - but Jamie doesn't know if it's for knowing Lily is well or if because kissing her always makes Jamie like she is in a never-ending free fall.

Probably both reasons.

After a while, she breaks apart and, when she opens her eyes, Lily's green eyes are staring right back at her.

It's her favourite sight in the world.

'Wow', Lily whispers, smiling to Jamie. 'That poisoned apple was totally worth it'.

Jamie laughs nervously.

'Yeah, about that, don't ever do it again. You scared me'.

'Come here, princess charming', Lily asks teasingly, and even though Jamie feels like she is missing a joke there, she doesn't refuse kissing Lily again.

When Jamie thinks about it, Lily tastes like an apple, sweet and exciting and addictive.

'So', Lily says, when Jamie breaks away the kiss once more, looking tenderly at Lily. 'True love, then?'

Jamie feels her face flushing.

'Yeah, but you already knew that'.

'It was nice having proof of it. And… it works both ways, you know?'

'What do you mean?'

'It means that I love you too, Jamie Potter', Lily says easily, grinning, and that makes Jamie's heartbeat even faster. 'Now, shall we go back? You did take the mirror, right?'

Jamie nods and helps Lily to get up.

'So, how was she?', Jamie asks as they are returning through the long corridor that led them to that medieval room.

'Who?'

'Snow White. You said she was beautiful, but you didn't describe her'.

That makes Lily stop in the middle of the corridor. When Jamie turns, she sees Lily's eyes sparkling in her direction, as if she is taking the sight of Jamie Potter to her heart.

'Dark hair', Lily whispers, raising her hand to touch Jamie's dark curls. 'Porcelain skin'. She touches Jamie's face, even though Jamie knows Lily is far paler than her. 'And red lips'.

She slides her finger through Jamie's lips and Jamie closes her eyes at Lily's familiar touch.

'As I said', Lily murmurs, her voice closer. 'The most beautiful princess'.

And when she feels Lily's lips once more, Jamie thinks Snow White doesn't sound so boring anymore.