#so that’s something to ponder with his separation anxiety

[dogtiber]

the boy is back in town!!!

[kingkat12]

pornography (eric draven x reader)

WARNINGS: 18+, foul language, groping/fondling, dry-humping lol, mentions of substance abuse

summary: when you finally talk to Eric Draven in rehab, it doesn't take long before you get drawn together by a force stronger than anything you have ever encountered. it doesn’t help the situation that you eventually find out Eric has been drawing pictures of you… nude

word count: 2,337 PART 1, PART 2, PART 3

a/n: this is for all the girlies like me that just came home from watching The Crow and got their mind blown by how hot Bill was in it... holy fuck. had to write this blurb because I am so shaken up, I can't feel my face. enjoy!! there will be more parts hihi...

"I fucking hate pink," 

I couldn't believe that was the first thing I said to him-- the dark and broody stranger I had been eyeing through my first few weeks in rehab. He stared back at me, confusion swimming in his big green eyes, probably pondering why I had sat down next to him in the cafeteria. "Pardon?"

"It's a little ridiculous," I tried, watching as he put down his cutlery, pushing his food away as he gave me his full attention. Tugging at my pink sweater, which we were all wearing, I let out a nervous chuckle. "Whose idea was it to put a lot of addicts in pink, anyway?"

My eyes darted down to his hands as I waited for his answer-- they were huge up close, and completely covered in tattoos. I hadn't noticed them from afar; I had only noticed the ones peeking through the top of his shirt when he would pass me by in the hall, or the big eye he had on his chest that I had seen while passing by his room. I knew it wasn't nice to peek into his room while he was changing, but I was quite frankly starved of any male contact-- any girl would go crazy in here. 

He eventually shrugged, giving me the answer I least expected; "I guess pink is supposed to be a calming colour. It's not that bad," I watched as the corners of his mouth tugged upwards, giving away hints of amusement. "Aren't you girls supposed to like pink?"

"Maybe," I mumbled, nudging food around on my plate with my fork. "I just don't like to wear it. It doesn't suit me."

The handsome stranger didn't seem to agree, another shrug following accompanied by a shy laugh. "I can't figure out whether you're being sincere or searching for compliments,"

This was most definitely not how I wanted to come off. I straightened up, resting my elbows against the table as I cleared my throat. "I'm just trying to make conversation,"

"... Why?"

"Because you've been staring at me almost as much as I've been staring at you," I put down my fork, hoping he didn't see how nervous I was. In truth, he had been staring-- it wasn't all purely one-sided. I had caught him staring at me in the courtyard, on my way to the shower, and I had also caught him lingering outside my room several times. He would usually leave when I came out, disappearing down the hall with speed I wouldn't even dream to catch up with. 

He finally gave in to a smirk, nodding to himself as he lowered his head. "Sorry," It was clear that he hadn't thought he'd be called out like this. However, something told me he wasn't too upset about being caught either. 

"Don't be," I said, feeling my anxiety ripping through my veins. Why was I indulging? "I just--"

It was at this moment that a guard appeared behind him, yanking him away from the table with a harshness that made me gasp. I clasped my hand over my mouth, watching as he barely reacted to the brutality. 

"Guys and girls eat separately!" the guard yelled at me, slamming his fist down on the table. 

My eyes widened, looking back at the handsome stranger. "But I-- I was the one who sat down here, he didn't do anything!" I protested, watching as the guard grabbed him and led him away. Groaning, I ran my hands through my hair, frustrated with the rules at this place. Why was it so fucking strict?

I eventually looked up just in time to see that the man had managed to turn around, smirking my way; "I'm Eric!" he said, holding back a laugh as he was shoved along the cafeteria for everyone to see.

Despite the horror washing over me for getting him in trouble, I managed to croak out my name as well. It seemed that he appreciated that I had at least tried to stick up for him-- What was it that I had just started?

My question would be answered a lot quicker than I had expected. 

A few days passed, and more looks and stares were exchanged. I was dying to talk to Eric again. I knew I hadn't been sent to rehab to make friends or get feelings for someone, but something was gnawing at me to talk to him again. I wanted to be around him constantly; what was happening to me? I recognized this feeling-- it was the same feeling I got when I really, really craved something... Fuck, how I missed drugs. Maybe Eric was turning into a substitute?

It wasn't often that the door to Eric's room was open, but today it was. I wouldn't have noticed it if I hadn't taken the extra lap around the institute as usual, hoping to get a glimpse of him through the small window in his door. But today, I didn't have to get on my tippytoes to get a look-- there he was, picking up several drawings that had been scattered around the floor. His room looked like a mess, completely unlike how I was used to seeing it through the tiny window. This looked like the result of one of those raids that the prison guards sometimes did when they suspected there were hidden drugs in a patient's room. 

I felt sorry for him; I knew how horrible it could feel to have someone rip through all your stuff. But as I bent down and picked up a few drawings that were at my feet, my lips parted in surprise.

It seemed I wasn't the only one caught off guard; Eric noticed me standing in his doorway, letting out a relieved sigh as he watched me inspect his drawings. He called out my name, leaning against the wall as he sized me up and scanned me, crossing his arms over his chest. 

I cleared my throat; "Is this... me?" I held up the first drawing of the bunch. It was a sketch of me sitting in the courtyard, and I was sure that it was me-- I suppose it was my shock asking for confirmation. 

Eric snickered, kicking off the wall. "Yeah... Sorry,"

"Stop saying sorry," I shuffled through the drawings, finding he had drawn me in multiple settings, and it was clear that I had been watched the few weeks I'd been here. "These are beautiful, Eric... I guess I'm honoured--" My words trailed off as I finally approached the last drawing. Was that...?

He didn't even try to take it away from me. Eric sighed, looking away as his cheeks flushed a light pink, similar to our uniforms. 

Judging by his reaction, I had a feeling he wasn't so against me seeing this. It was a sketch of me, after all-- nude. 

I had to swallow rather hard for anything to go down. I couldn't pinpoint why I wasn't absolutely horrified at this.  "So... this is what you've been up to in here, huh?" There was no stopping the smirk that spread across my lips, holding back a flustered giggle. "This is next-level pervy, do you know that?"

It didn't take long before Eric's big hands ripped the drawings out of my hands, turning away as he shook his head. "Every artist needs a muse, no?"

"A muse? How can I be your muse if we don't know each other?"

"That's not how it works," he mumbled, throwing away the drawings into a heap on the bed. "Your beauty is all I need to get inspired."

This was enough to shock me into silence. I inhaled a sharp breath, stepping into Eric's room despite knowing it was forbidden. "So now you think I'm beautiful?"

Eric hummed, finally turning to meet my eyes. "It hasn't been the biggest secret, has it?" There was something playful about him, shameless, as though it didn't matter to him that I had just found his handmade porn. "It gets a little lonely in here, I guess. These drawings just... run out of me like water. Can't control it."

There was something so unimaginably tantalizing about Eric. Everything about him made me want to jump him then and there-- was it maybe the result of my withdrawals that were turning my brain into further mush? In a normal setting, this would have creeped me out to infinity and beyond, but knowing this was coming from the man I had been lusting after from afar for several weeks made me excuse it in a heartbeat. 

I had no idea what possessed me to close the door to his room and lock it, knowing the repercussions could be severe if we were caught. But Eric didn't seem to mind; his green eyes widened, watching my every move like a hawk.

"It was really pretty and all... The drawing, I mean," I said, inching closer to where he had sat down on the bed. "But would you maybe want some inspiration for the next one?"

Eric's plush, pink lips parted, eyes rounding out in surprise. Despite his shock, his big hands reached out for me as I came closer, and he pulled me in between his legs. I could feel him caressing my back through my shirt, holding me with the utmost gentle touch. "I'll take all I can get," he murmured, looking up at me through his brows, a knowing smirk spreading across his face. 

I let out a giggle as he pressed his lips against my stomach through my shirt, enjoying the intense feeling of someone against my skin again after all this time. Eric pulled away, glancing at the door before slowly trailing his fingers under my shirt, testing the waters. 

It didn't take long before that wasn't enough for him-- my breath hitched as Eric grabbed my waist, pulling me down with him on the bed. I barely had time to think before the euphoric feeling of being kissed engulfed me. Our lips met in an open, soft kiss, almost as though we were scared to break the other if we were too needy or harsh. As I straddled him, I felt his hands tugging at my shirt, dipping back under the fabric once more. His fingers gently ghosted over my lower back, eventually ending up trailing small circles with his thumbs along the underside of my bra. 

If I hadn't been so starved of any human contact in here, I would've never jumped the opportunity like this. But none of us knew how long we had until the guards would bust us, and it only fueled the adrenaline pumping through our veins. Our kisses became desperate, hungry, and I let out a whimper against his lips as he took the liberty of cupping my chest, feeling me up to his heart's delight. I knew I had been waiting for this moment since the first time I saw him, and I wasn't about to let it slip through my fingers-- I decided to let him do whatever he wanted to me, no matter what. 

I could feel Eric's cock twitch beneath me, clearly aroused. It was also at this moment that he made me sit up, tugging my shirt off of me before laying back down to scan me. Was he memorizing my body for his next sketch? It wasn't every night that I had a handsome stranger beneath me like this, so I allowed him to trail his hands up and down my body, lips parting in delight. "Fuck... Yeah, this will do," he murmured, pupils dilating at the sight before him whether he wanted them to or not.

"You sure?" I asked, giggling to myself. My hands rested against his broad chest, letting out a sigh of delight; God, he was sexy. As I shifted in his lap, Eric's breath hitched as I seemingly sat down in the exact right spot. Almost as though he was possessed by instinct for a moment, he grabbed my hips, rocking me against him through the fabric of our clothes. 

Who would've thought I'd be dry-humping this stranger and enjoy it so much? My hands gripped his shirt, a quiet moan spilling past my lips-- I had forgotten this feeling. This was mostly something I did when I was a teenager, before I figured out how to have proper sex with my high school boyfriend. But it felt so damn fucking good, desperate; it didn't take long before I leaned back down, capturing his plush lips in another kiss. 

I craved him like water. I wanted him against me, in me, for him to take me in every possible position ever-- a deep, dark part of me knew I would be insatiable from now on. 

But our moment of ecstasy was interrupted when a guard started banging his fist against the door, his muffled yells barely registering through my arousal. Despite my dazed state, it didn't take me long to drape my shirt back on, climbing off Eric with wobbly knees. "Shit," I mumbled, turning to him with wide eyes. "I'm screwed. We're screwed."

Everything about him was so damn beautiful. The kiss-swollen lips definitely didn't help how gorgeous I thought he looked right now. Despite the situation, knowing we were in deep shit, Eric let out a soft chuckle; "I don't think you're screwed enough, actually. We'll get to that another time," 

My eyes widened as I gave into a light giggle. There was no way this was happening-- had my naughty rehab dreams come true? The guard banging against the door was drowned out by the incessant ringing in my ears that festered through my mind as Eric leaned down to kiss me one last time; "I hope to see you around, if they don't kill us,"

"Yeah," I breathed, only now realizing how tall he was as I looked up to meet his gaze. This man was towering over me. Holy shit. "Can't wait to see your next masterpiece."

I couldn't wait. I really couldn't.

(a/n: PART 2, PART 3 here!! enjoy<33)

[anonymous-vr]

Self Discipline

Summary:

It's easy to keep your legs closed.

6.3k words

Bakugou x fem/reader

Warnings:

Smut

MDNI!

Author's Word:

My first post on here, enjoy.

-Anonymous-vr

Your suitcase, meticulously packed with essentials for a week, stood as a silent testament to the internship you had tirelessly pursued. As summer draped its warmth over Japan, you felt both drained and invigorated by the experience. The city buzzed with life as you navigated its streets, your tenacious attitude pushing you through every challenge. After finishing your internship, you promised to visit your mother soon after. Her mama-bear nature refuses to let you relish your life without a consistent visit.

In a world where humans are equipped with powers, life-threatening events constantly take place around you. You were thankful nothing happened to you, though you could never be too sure. "Please be safe on the road home." Your mother spoke eagerly on the phone, excited to see her only child. Your reassurance did nothing to calm her nerves though, it never did. "Remember when you told me I needed to get out more? Well, your mama is hosting a get-together. It'll be in the garden. I'm in a club dedicated to mothers with only one child." You couldn't help but chuckle over the phone. Having a mother who refused to get out and meet others was a burden for you, it made leaving so much more difficult. "You can tell me more when I get home Mom.".

The three-hour drive always took a toll on your body as you began to re-enter the city halfway through. Traffic was always hectic this time of year as some traveled away and others went home in the town. You sighed a sigh of relief once you parked in front of your small childhood home. It was small but you loved it. Its eggshell exterior makes a great contrast with the brick guiding visitors inside. The flowers you'd watched your mother plant running up the gate and greeting your fingers as you pushed inside. The slightly rusty gate creaked as you pulled your suitcase behind you. It took two knocks before the front door was yanked open and you were engulfed by your mother's arms.

"You don't know how much I've missed you around here." You followed her inside before making your way to your old bedroom. "I've missed you too Mom, more than you know. Tell me more about this event you're hosting though." You unpacked your suitcase as she detailed the gathering she'd put together. "Wow Mom, you've invited twenty-nine people over? That's insane considering your introverted nature." "I know but I really wanted to listen to you and push myself out there. Now I know twenty-nine other mothers who are also dealing with some sort of separation anxiety. A mother I've grown close to has a son I'm sure you'd get along with." You turned to raise a brow at your mom.

You were successful in almost every aspect of your life, not to her. Your life was too busy for romance, and she pitied you. The story of her and your father constantly brought up to try and ignite something within you, it never worked though. Father passed away when you were still young, romance was never something that you'd seen first-hand growing up. The only depictions of love shown were on TV, and the popular sitcoms portrayed it as fairly difficult to obtain.

"Mom, you know I'm too busy to entertain the thought of having a boyfriend." Having this conversation was like beating a dead horse. "Well, his mother has described him as a very well-known and handsome man. At least be open about this, for me? I don't want you old and alone like me." You let out a soft sigh before pulling your mother in for a warm, and much-needed, hug. "I'll be open but I can't make any promises."

As the setting of the Sun painted the sky with stars, you sunk into your bed and fell asleep. Your rest wasn't fulfilling as you knew you'd need to wake up in enough time to make yourself look appropriate. The nagging thought of this mystery man also kept you pondering throughout the night.

As morning slowly approached, you sadly got out of bed and got dressed. The smell of food filled the little house as your mother prepared snacks for the guests. Pulling on a floral sundress and a pair of kitten heels, you rush out of your room just in time. Looking outside, it seemed as though guests had already arrived. A majority of the mothers had brought their children along with them. They all exuded motherly pride as they finally had the chance to show off the child they'd described over the past few months.

"This is my only child y/n." Your mother gushed as she hugged onto your arm. Chatter started as the other mothers introduced themselves and reached to shake your hand. As everyone began to mingle, you found yourself watching from the sides. As much as you told your mother to get out of her shell, you felt ashamed now as she left to speak to the other mothers. Your phone became enticing, luring you in as you drowned out the world and began checking emails. You weren't sure how much time had passed before you were interrupted by the sound of your mother's voice approaching you again.

"This is my daughter!" Looking up, you were met with an ash-blonde-haired woman. "Well, aren't you a beauty? I'd always wished for a daughter. Instead, I was given that thing over there." She chuckled as her thumb directed you to the scowling man hunched over at a table. He looked identical to his mother, his ash-blonde hair and eyes a piercing crimson color. Turning his gaze toward the three of you, you quickly looked away. "I'm sure he's great." The lie was forced through your teeth, he looks extremely intimidating. "No need to lie, I told him to dress nicely, and he comes out in jeans and a black top. Ignorant just like his father." The two women moved to sit and chat.

Your gaze couldn't help but flicker from the man across the garden. His black shirt curled around his body, displaying his muscles. His big stature exuded confidence as though he owned the place. He looked awfully familiar, like someone you'd seen in the news. Growing up in a small town, you were often isolated from the flashy aspects of city living. You knew of a few celebrities and heroes but never anything up to date. The only new-gen hero you knew about was Deku, you were a big fan. A few of his posters were plastered on your wall from your early college years.

Shaking your gaze from the man, you decided to go inside for a drink of water. The beams of the sun had finally won. As you moved inside, you could feel the eyes of the man on your back as you smiled at a few guests in your path. Once inside, peace washed over you. You were an introvert just like your mom, this newfound inner peace came after you'd graduated from college. At age twenty-two, you were more inclined to spend more time alone than with others. You sipped on a cup of water as you pulled up your phone and scrolled through a few documents you were meant to review.

The sound of the back door opening and closing caught your attention as you placed your phone on the counter. No one was meant to be inside the house, so you assumed it was your mom. "Mom, does your friend's son look familiar? I feel like I've seen him somewhere before." You spoke out loud as your gaze moved outside the window to look at the man again. You were shocked when you couldn't find him though, instead being met with the eyes of your mother as she continued to chat with the others. Face falling in confusion, you swiveled around to be met with the intimidating man. Embarrassed, your eyes widened as you stood awkwardly.

"Y'know where the bathroom is?" He questioned with a stoic look on his face. He held no shame as his demanding eyes bore into yours, expecting an answer. Technically, no one was meant to be inside the house. There was only one bathroom, it was shared by you and your mother. "I uh- It's right down the hall to the left." Your voice was an unusual octave as the older man watched you squirm. He raised an eyebrow at you, his head tilting to an angle. "So, you just let anyone walk through your house alone?" The question had caught you off guard, you'd expected him to leave once given directions. "I'm sorry but um, what do you mean?" He shook his head, obviously annoyed by your ignorance. "You don't know me and you're gonna let me wander your house. Just because you give me directions, doesn't mean I'm gonna follow them. This is why you dumb extras are always in dumb situations."

Your face dropped as you rushed from your spot in the kitchen. His booming voice further intimidates you as you guide him through the house and to the bathroom. His presence was large and strong as he walked behind you. He gave you a lackluster "Thanks" before shutting the door behind him.

Bakugou unzipped his pants and did his business as he looked around your bathroom. The sink was crowded with perfumes, makeup, dental care, and hair items. The soft pink shower curtain was slightly opened, giving him a view into your clean shower. This was definitely a woman's house. It was definitely messier than his bathroom though. He always prioritized having a clean space as it helped him think better. Being the number two hero, he couldn't allow his space to reflect his busy schedule.

Finishing his business, he washed his hands while looking in the mirror. Today was his first day off in two weeks and his mother had forced him to spend it at this get-together. He was upset but understood the importance of keeping a tight-knit relationship with his parents. "There's a girl I want you to meet at this get-together. She's a sweet thing, based on what her mother's said. I spoke positively about you so try your best to uphold what I've said." His mother's words annoyed him, she constantly meddled in his love life as she wanted grandkids sooner than later. Being a busy hero though, he knew he had little to no time for a relationship. He entertained his mother and agreed to attend, promising to be on his best behavior.

As he left the bedroom, he realized you were no longer in front of the door. "Dumb ass, just let strangers wander her house alone." He grumbled before glancing at the bedroom across the hall. He knew it had to be yours. Floral wallpaper, a soft pink rug, and a white bed standing in his vision. His curiosity getting the best of him, he stepped into your room and looked around. A scowl formed on his face at the sight of Deku, his face plastered on a poster you'd neatly taped on your wall. Despite the ridiculous number of knick-knacks, your room was fairly clean.

You'd gone to the kitchen once the bathroom door shut, eagerly grabbing your cup of water to calm yourself. The man seemed even more familiar after speaking to him, his temperamental energy scratching your brain. After texting an old friend and chugging down your water, you walked back down the hallway to find the man. Reaching the bathroom, your brows furrowed at the emptiness. "Um...excuse me?" You called out, hoping for a reply. Maybe he'd found his way back outside. The thought was brushed away though when his voice replied from your bedroom. Heart falling to your ass, you turned around and rushed to your room.

The tall man looked out of place in your childhood room. "This um...this isn't the way back outside." Your reply was stupid, and you mentally cursed yourself for it. "Yeah, I figured. What's with the poster?" His finger pointed to the old poster on your wall. "Oh, it's old, I put that up during my sophomore year of college." You weren't sure why, but you could feel irritation shimmer off his body. "Do you...not like Deku?" A low grumble left his lips as his brows furrowed. "D'you not know who I am or something?" His head turned so his eyes could look at you. You were pathetic, standing timidly in your own room. Your form was much smaller than his, the kitten heels doing little to boost your height.

"I'm sorry." Was all you could get out as the man studied you. His presence made you feel foreign in your own house. Your answer made him turn to fully face you. "You're serious, you don't know who I am?" Words failing, you shook your head no. It pissed him off, Deku's face plastered on your wall, and you didn't know who Bakugou was. It didn't surprise him though considering how small your town was. "You livin' under a fuckin rock or what?" Poison was laced in his words as he stepped closer to you, his cologne slowly sweeping from his body up your nostrils. Your eyes widened as he stalked closer to you, seeming to not care about personal space. "I-should I know who you are?" "Damn right, you should, you're standing in front of the number two hero." With that, everything fell into place. No wonder he seemed so familiar. The hero Dynamight was standing in your room.

"There we go, that little brain finally working huh?" you stumbled over your words as you apologized profusely, something he seemed to enjoy as his signature smirk spread across his face. "So what, Dynamight was never good enough to plaster on your walls?" Your jumbled words began falling again as you tried to explain your reasoning. "This is so embarrassing" You mumbled as your blushing face fell into your hands. You never expected this turn of events, unprepared for his persistent personality. He chuckled as he sat down on your bed. You continued to stand, too nervous to sit next to the towering hero. "So, what's it like being a hero?" you questioned, fiddling with your fingers nervously. He caught onto your nervous habits though, scoffing as you shrunk under his gaze. "Relax, I'm not gonna blow your head off or anything." Your arms immediately fell to your sides as you stood awkwardly. "It's hard work, a lot of hard work. I love my job though." His answer didn't give much detail, but you still appreciated it.

"What exactly... brings you to this part of town? With how busy you must be, I can't help but wonder how you have the time to come to such an underwhelming get-together." "My mom wanted me to come so I came. Something about wanting to introduce me to some woman's daughter." Your face flushed as you began to avoid his eye contact. Picking up on your body language, mentally cursed his mom for putting him in this predicament. "I'm assuming that daughter is you." Your silence was enough of an answer for him. "I promise I wasn't in on this; I was told the same thing you were. Besides, I'm not interested in finding a relationship since I'm too busy with work. I've gone twenty-two years without one so I'm sure I'll survive." Your words sprinted from your mouth as you tried to cut through the awkward tension.

Bakugou scoffed at your jumbled words. "Were you a sheltered little brat or what? You've never been in a relationship before?" He was surprised a girl like you had never been in a relationship before. Your pretty hair was gathered in a low bun, a few pieces framing your innocent face. He watched as you nervously pulled your glossy bottom lip between your teeth. "I never saw the point of it." Your reply was a lame excuse, it was true though. "You ever try having sex?" His question was extremely inappropriate and blunt. The blood rose to your face as your eyes averted away from his. "Of course not if I've never been in a relationship." He let out a deep chuckle, shifting slightly on your bed. You were an innocent little thing. Living in the city, he was used to bold and experienced women who threw themselves at him. You were the complete opposite though, avoiding his gaze and presenting yourself as a modest little thing.

"You never heard of a hook-up?" His question made you look stupid as he stared at you confused. "I-I-I yeah, I mean. I'd never do that." He cut you off with another scoff. "What, you too good for that too?" "That's not what I'm saying I just-" Your fingers began twiddling together again as you spoke, nerves shooting through your body. "I just don't participate in those types of activities." "Come here." His hand patted the bed, signaling the spot next to him. Hesitating, you force your body to move. The bed creaked underneath the weight of you and the pro hero. His eyes glazed over your face and body as you stared straight ahead. His heat radiated off of him and it made you shift. Bakugou was a very handsome man, his blonde locs sitting disheveled on his head. His hair color complimented the intensity of his red eyes. All elements of him accessorizing the Godly build he had beneath his clothes. He was a man to be admired, you refused to give in though.

"So, you just walk around looking all dolled up to reject every man showing interest." Turning to face him, you took in the change of his demeanor. "I mean yeah, nicely of course." His gaze stayed on you, watching as your body squirmed beneath his eyes. "I don't know how you live like that, especially considering how good it feels." "It's honestly not that hard to keep your legs closed." Your reply was snobbish as if you were above the idea of having sex. "Is it easy or have you just not met a man that makes your hands sweat." "No, I've met my handful of handsome men. I just choose not to partake. I personally have great self-discipline."

Bakugou took your words as a challenge. While you thought it made you look like a dignified and "respectable" woman, Bakugou saw you as a snobby, arrogant, cocky prick. The need to show you that you were no better than those who'd partaken in others grew in his chest as he watched you stick your nose in the air. "What a snotty little bitch you are." He spat the words out, emphasizing the title as you whipped your head to look at him. "What did you just call me?" You didn't care if he was a pro hero or not, you didn't tolerate that kind of name-calling. "You heard me, walking around here like you're better than everyone else. You're just as human as your peers, we've all got desires. I'll be damned if I sit here and let you lie to my face like I'm some dunce. Either you're lying or you really haven't found the right extra to pull those panties to the side and fuck you."

His words were nasty beyond your tolerance. You couldn't help the blood that rushed up your chest, no one had spoken to you like that before. Oddly enough, you couldn't help but squeeze your thighs together. The mental battle in your head kept you dazed as you couldn't understand why your body reacted to his words. "Fuckin virgins runnin' around thinking they're better than everyone else until they're dicked down." Your movements didn't go unnoticed by the pro, his eyes easily picked up on the way your thighs rubbed together beneath your sun dress. He let out a low chuckle at this. "See, all it took was a couple of words to get you hot and bothered." Your mouth opened and closed in defense as you looked for words. "I'm not sure what you're talking about."

He was tired of your act, ready to humble you back where you belong. His sharp canines showed, and his big hand reached out and rested on your thigh. Blood pooled in the area where his hand sat, you weren't used to being touched by others. His eyes watched your reaction as you did nothing to push his touch away, instead keeping your shocked eyes on his. "What's wrong? Searching for that self-discipline? I've got you red in the face and I haven't even touched you yet." The 'yet' at the end of his sentence had your mind spinning. "Of course you'd let me touch you though, the dumb men in this town could never meet your expectations, right?" His hand began to move as he shifted his body to face yours. "Answer me." He demanded, hand moving to your waist. "N-No that's not it at all." His hand slightly squeezed your thigh causing a soft yelp to fall from your lips. "Give me the right answer." You sighed as his hand moved up to gently cup one of your breasts. You'd never felt a sensation like it, a new feeling of pleasure sending waves down to your core. Your eyes darted down to his hand as he gently messaged your skin. "They could never meet my standards." The reply came out breathy as your body began to crave his.

"Look at you, melting in my touch." As he watched you, his already inflated ego filled the room. Little Miss Untouchable was writhing under the little pleasure he was giving her. "Look at that, I know it feels good. It feels good, doesn't it?" He wanted to break you down and ruin the image you'd created of yourself in your head. Your hot face turned away as you bit down on your bottom lip. "I know you want me to keep going so you'd better open that mouth and answer me." "Yes." The word was all you'd give him as your back arched further into his touch. His hand left your body before you felt yourself be lifted into his lap. Your heart began to beat vigorously as you straddled his hips with your own. "We can't! The guests and my mom and your mom-" "But you want to." The shit-eating grin on his face let you know he had you right where he wanted you. "I need to hear you say it or I can't go further." You sat quietly for a second, weighing your options. On one hand, you weren't sure you wanted to risk your ego for this. On the other, the feeling of his hips between yours was driving you insane.

After weighing your options for a few seconds, you let out a shaky breath. "Just...be quick." "I don't rush shit." Before you could process his words, his lips were on your neck. The sensation was new, nothing like what you'd felt before. His lips were plush and warm as he tickled up your neck. The feeling of his hair brushing your jaw kept you grounded as you instantly melted in his touch. You were fully aware of his hands that rested at your thighs, slowly pushing your bunched dress up your legs. The sound of his lips moving against your skin made you feel dirty like you were committing the greatest act against yourself. Though you felt dirtier because it felt so good.

"Take this dress off." His voice was demanding as he moved back, waiting for you to follow orders. Your fingers reached down and hesitantly tugged the dress from your body. The sight of your pretty pink panty and bra set had Bakugou drooling. "Sure you're a virgin? Or you walk around with these pretty panties on for nothing?" The question was rhetorical, his lips falling against your collarbone. As he riled you up, you could feel an uncomfortable sensation growing between your legs. You could smell yourself through your panties. Embarrassed, you tried to close your thighs around him to no avail. His hands smoothed up your sides and played with your bra clasp before easily unclipping it. A gasp left your lips as you hugged your bra to your chest. His teeth pinched down on the soft skin of your neck as a warning. Loosening your grip, you allowed him to roughly tear the bra from your skin.

You were completely flustered, never have had anyone see you this bare before. "Look at that, high and mighty twenty minutes ago, and bare for me to see now." Before you could get a word out, he had you flipped beneath him on your childhood bed. Your legs lay beside his thighs as he stared down at you hungrily. "Oh gosh," The words flew out your mouth before you could stop them. Bakugou took this as his cue to continue as his lips quickly flew down to suck on your nipple. His other hand worked at the neglected boob as you watched with lustful eyes. The feeling was nothing short of euphoric, sensations traveling down to your drooling virgin pussy. Your head eventually rested on your pillow, allowing you to indulge in the pleasure.

"You like gettin' your titties sucked pretty girl?" His tone was condescending, dripping with arrogance as he teased you. You were too dazed from the simple touch to argue though, letting out an approving hum. His teeth bit down on your nipple enough to make you squeak. "Speak" "Y-yes, I like getting my titties sucked Dynamight." He chuckled at your submission. "Good bitch." You mewled at the name. Him pairing the derogatory name with praise making your back arch your chest into his face. "Dirty virgin, you like getting called a bitch huh?" His hand slowly began traveling down to the waistband of your panties. "Come on y/n, no way you're that worn out already?" His thick fingers moved to your inner thigh, thumb rubbing circles over your skin. He was teasing you, trying to get you to the point of desperation. Oh, what he'd give to hear you beg for his dick. You stayed quiet, concentrating on the way his fingers slowly moved to the damp area on your panties. You bit your lip from embarrassment. "You're sopping, this the self-discipline you were talking about?" You couldn't get an answer out as his fingers finally rubbed softly over your slit. Your pussy fluttered at the feeling, begging for more as your mouth dropped slightly open. He took this as an opportunity to connect lips, tongue pushing inside your mouth as his fingers began rubbing firmly. It was like electricity was sent through your body and straight to your core. You'd never felt anything like it. His fingers worked expertly, riling you up as his mouth worked against yours. The corners of his lips pulled up into a smirk as soft sounds began to escape your lips. He knew he had you.

"How much do you like these panties?" His question barely registered in your head. You let out a confused hum before the sound of a slight explosion and ripped fabric filled your ears. The cold air from your room finally hit your wet and weepy pussy. His fingers immediately found solitude within your folds, brushing up and down before toying around your clit. "Oh my-Dynamight that-" "It's Katsuki." He grunted out as his eyes explored your face. You were so sensitive, trying to grasp the feelings in your body. His sweet but musky scent helped overstimulate you as you relished in his touch. "Cocky little brat thought she was too good for this." His words were mumbled into your lips as his fingers toyed with your excited core.

Soft breaths hummed from your throat as your legs continuously parted for him. Without warning, he plunged his fingers into your sopping sex. "Kats-oh my gosh." The words came out with a gasp as your hands gripped the sheets. "Just preppin you for what's to come." His eyes watched as you swallowed his finger easily. "Fuck, you're so tight. Not sure how I'll fit in here." His words flew over your head as you easily began to see stars. A feeling rose in the pit of your stomach, and you weren't sure how to react. "Wait wait stop something's coming out." The words rushed out your mouth in panic, but your body remained slack as he added a second finger. "Just relax." Was all he muttered as he watched you fall apart from his two fingers. Your face scrunched as your back arched off your bed. Everything felt lighter as you dipped in and out of consciousness. Bakugou's dick got even harder than it already was, watching as you twitched beneath him.

Once your sex stopped gripping him so tightly, he removed his fingers from your core. Eyes lazily hanging open, your heart skipped a beat as he brought his fingers to his mouth. "Mmm, you taste good." Popping his fingers out of his mouth, he pushed them in front of you. You sat confused at first but shyly took his fingers into your mouth. The taste of your arousal mixed with his spit was so dirty, but you couldn't help the soft moan that vibrated your chest. "Don't you?" He asked matter-of-factly as you sucked the remainder of his fingers clean. Ripping his fingers from your mouth, he wasted no time in ripping his top off. Your desperation for him grew as you took in his sculpted figure. His ego rose through the roof as he felt your needy eyes on him. He ignored you though as he continued to take off his pants and boxers. Your mouth fell open at what was previously hidden.

Beneath his six-pack sat a pretty dick. Blonde hair decorated the top area, emphasizing his sharp v-line. "I promise you'll never see a dick like this again. You'll never feel a dick like this again either pretty girl." Grabbing your legs, he yanked you to the bottom of the bed before positioning both of them on his shoulders. "So desperate to suck me in?" He watched your hole clench around nothing, eager to be filled. Your face was hot as you watched the hero position himself between your legs. You were fully bare for him and, shockingly, it turned you on. "Fuck you're so wet." His words were mainly directed at himself as his leaking head began to smear against your folds. The soft hums leaving your lips stirred him further as your hands fidgeted to find something worth gripping. Your mouth stretched wide as your seeping hole did the same, his hot dick began to push slowly inside of you. "Ow I- Gosh Katsuki you're big." The moans began to fill your room as you tried your best to swallow him hole. "You can take it." The sharp pain was slowly overcome by the feeling of intense pleasure. Your tits bounced softly as his balls finally reached your ass. "Squeezin' me so hard, relax." His demanding words did nothing to loosen your grip, his fingers did though. You almost reached your peak instantly when his hand came down to play with your clit again. Once that little hole of yours finally lost a bit of grip, he began slowly but deeply fucking into you. The sensation was even greater than when you were sucking in his fingers. His hands gripped your hips as he bent down and captured your lips in his. The lewd sound of skin on skin filled the room as you allowed yourself to be swallowed up by his presence. When his lips finally left yours, your hand drifted down to your stomach. "I can feel you." His self-restraint snapped at that moment as his hips pulled fully back before snapping into yours. A loud cry left your lips before being muffled by his hand. "You forgot to close your door Miss Self Discipline." He grunted through gritted teeth. The feeling of his pounding into you was driving you off the edge, and quickly. Bakugou could tell you were reaching your high as your muffled cries began falling from your lips consistently. "Let's test that self-discipline." He mumbled before pulling out fully.

You were on the brig of finishing when he pulled out, a loud whine leaving your lips. "Not so hard to keep your legs closed? I guess it shouldn't be too hard to keep yourself from cumming on my dick." He waited a couple seconds for you to come down before shoving back into you. Your mouth dropped open beneath his hand, tongue absentmindedly darting out to wet his palm. His hips snapped to yours with vigor as you lay there and take it. Removing his hand from your mouth, it swiftly gripped your neck, His arm was situated between your breasts as you lazily looked up at him. "Shit y/n." Your name leaving his in a praise of pleasure had your back arching. "Look at you, needy just like the rest of us. It feels good, doesn't it?" His condescending tone made it obvious that he just wanted his ego stroked. You'd happily do that though with him balls deep in your cunt. "Feels so good Katsuki, so good." You sighed, listening to the nasty sounds filling up the room. "I know it does, needy bitch" His hips began rocking into yours faster and harder, and the feeling of him hitting a certain spot inside of you had tears pooling in your eyes.

"You're a snobby little slut, acting like you're better than the rest of us. Aren't you?" He fucked the ego right out of you as you lazily opened your mouth to reply. "Yes." A slap was placed on your thigh. "Give me the right answer." "F-F-Fuck Katsuki. Yes, I'm a snobby little slut." A sinister grin fell on his lips as he began rocking harder into you. Mewls left your mouth before they were swallowed by his lips. You were teetering on edge, and he knew this. His hand fell between your legs again and began toying with your clit. Your bed shook from the weight. Hands moving all over you, his breathing became ragged as soft moans fell from his lips to harmonize with your own. Before you knew it, he had you seeing stars for a second time. You let out a loud moan into his mouth as your body vibrated and twitched under his touch. He didn't let up though, continuing his fast and hard thrusts as he chased his own high. Soon enough, the feeling of something warm spilling inside of you caught your attention. Too fucked out to care though, you swallowed his own moans of ecstasy before feeling him pull out.

Your body was shocked and still, as your eyes opened only slightly. Between your lashes, you could see him get dressed as he read a message from his phone. "Hero duty calls." He spoke to you as he leaned down and placed a hungry kiss on your lips. "You're fucked out, might wanna pull yourself together though. Looks like your mom's event is ending soon." Before leaving, he pulled his phone out and took a photo of your sprawled-out and exhausted body. You could hear him chuckle as he walked to the door and left.

The week went by fast, too fast, you found yourself kissing your mother bye before driving back to your apartment. The memories from your mom's event constantly invaded your mind whenever you were left alone. He'd triggered something inside of you, ruining your self-image. Late at night, you found yourself touching your cunt, trying to mimic the way he fingered you previously. It was never enough though. You started out with the best and now anything less wasn't good enough.

Pulling your suitcase into your apartment, your phone let out a ding. Standing in the doorway, you quickly opened the message from the unknown number and jumped inside. You'd hoped your neighbors didn't see anything on your phone as an image of your fucked out body splayed across your screen. Your cunt glistened from the light as your hands gripped your tits. Your face was flushed as hairs stuck to your cheeks and forehead. Below the image left a text that had you blushing.

Little Miss "It's easy to keep your legs closed"

Little Miss Self Discipline.

[amitiel-truth]

River Maiden Pt. 9

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 10, Part 11,

(A/N: is Telephone technically a Monsterfucker in this story? I mean, Penelope's Half Nymph so he got it from Odysseus. : ))

"I don't know what to do..." (Y/N) mutters, her head on Penelope's lap as they're in the Queen's Quarters, they're meant to start another lesson, but they've postpone it for now.

"It's a difficult situation, isn't it?" Penelope replied, gently stroking her hair. "You want to be honest with Telemachus, but you fear how he would react to the truth."

"Don't you hate me, Mother? How Poseidon was the reason why it took your husband to get home 10 more years after the war?." (Y/N) asked in worry, tearing up at her.

"Oh, my dear child," Penelope's tone was tender as she gently wiped away (Y/N)'s tears. "I could never hate you. You are not responsible for the actions of your father. You deserve love and acceptance just like anyone else."

"But...I'm scared to tell Telemachus." (Y/N) professes, leaning onto the comforting woman's hand.

"I'm scared of how he'll react, will he look at me with disdain, blame me for Poseidon's action, or be disgusted for bedding a monster." (Y/N) ponders, tears streaming from her eyes.

"Shhh," Penelope hushes her, gently stroking her hair again. "You cannot control what Telemachus will think or feel when he learns the truth. But if he truly loves you, he will see past your heritage and understand that you are your own person, separate from the actions of your father."

She gave (Y/N) a reassuring smile. "I have faith in Telemachus. He is a good man, and he has already shown how much he cares for you."

"But...what about your husband?." (Y/N) frowns once more, looking onto the ground.

"He might end our engagement..."

Penelope chuckles, a fond smile tugging at her lips. "(Y/N), did you truly think Telemachus would allow anything to come between him and you? He is practically obsessed with you. He would fight off an army of Cyclopes if it meant keeping you safe and by his side."

"But...He practically idolized his Father, he just had the chance to get to know him, I don't want to get in the way of it." (Y/N) added with a worried look.

Penelope shook her head, placing a gentle hand on Egeria's shoulder.

"You're not going to get in the way of anything. Telemachus loves you, and that won't change once he learns about your heritage. Yes, he idolized his father, and he still does to an extent, but he is his own person now.

"He's grown up, had his own experiences and formed his own opinions and values. He's not going to simply abandon you because of something you have no control over."

(Y/N) looks at her, speechless, before she could say something to Penelope, someone knocked at the door.

Penelope looked at (Y/N) fondly before turning toward the door. "Come in." she called out gently.

(Y/N) wiped away her tears, trying to look halfway decent.

A servant entered the room.

"Queen Penelope, King Odysseus is requesting Lady (Y/N)'s presence." The servant relays, shocking (Y/N).

"Very well. (Y/N), it seems the King wants to speak with you." Penelope gently nudged her.

(Y/N) could only look at Penelope in worry, before following the servant.

As (Y/N) followed the servant through the palace halls, her mind raced with anxiety and questions. What could Odysseus possibly want to talk to her about? Was it about Telemachus?

Finally, they reached Odysseus's study, and the servant opened the door, gesturing for her to enter

As (Y/N) entered the room, she noticed how very different it was to the Queen's Quarters, weapons, maps, and armour, she could almost hear their stories.

Odysseus was sitting at his desk, shuffling through some maps and documents. He looked up as (Y/N) entered, his gaze sharp.

"Close the door." He commanded the servant.

The heavy oak door shut with a resounding thud, leaving (Y/N) alone with Odysseus.

(Y/N) stood in the middle of his study, holding her hands in front of her.

"You wished to see me, Sir?" (Y/N) asked, a bit nervous

Odysseus leaned back in his chair, studying (Y/N) intently. "Yes, I did. Have a seat."

He gestured to the chair across from his desk, his expression unreadable.

As (Y/N) sat in front of Odysseus, on his desk is a Latrunculi board with it's pieces in place, making (Y/N) curious.

As she looked down at the Latrunculi board on the desk, she couldn't help but wonder why it was there. The game was a strategic one that required foresight and planning.

Odysseus noticed her gaze and a half smile played across his lips.

"Do you play Latrunculi?" He asked, his tone almost casual.

"My Aunt taught me, as well as I had a few games with my...Cousins" (Y/N) answers, a bit reluctantly

Odysseus nodded, noticing (Y/N)'s hesitation.

"Ah, so you have some experience with strategy and tactics, then." he said, leaning back in his chair. "You see, this game is not just about making random moves. It's about understanding your opponent, anticipating their moves, and making calculated decisions."

He gestured towards the board. "The pieces may appear small, but their positions and moves have a significant impact on the outcome of the game. Each choice you make can either bring you closer to victory or lead you to defeat."

Odysseus leaned forward, a gleam of challenge in his eyes. "I have a proposal. Would you like to play a game of Latrunculi with me?"

"Of course sir, do excuse me for I'm a bit rusty." (Y/N) admits with a nervous smile.

Odysseus chuckled, gesturing to the board. "Oh, don't worry about it. I'm in the mood for a game myself."

He moved a piece on the board, making what seemed to be a bold but well-placed opening move. "Your move."

(Y/N) moves a man as her starting move

Odysseus watched as (Y/N) made her move, his eyes narrowing in thought. He studied the board for a moment, considering his options.

"Not a bad opening move," he commented with a hint of surprise in his tone. "Looks like you remember a thing or two about the game."

"It's only a start, Sir." (Y/N) points out with a smile, before moving another man.

Odysseus nodded, his expression focused as he considered his next move.

"Indeed, the game is only beginning." He studied the board, his mind working to anticipate (Y/N)'s strategy. After a moment, he moved one of his men, initiating a counterattack.

(Y/N) noticed his moves, before doing the unexpected, moving her Dux (General), early in the game, trapping and capturing two of his men at once.

Odysseus's eyes widened in surprise at her unexpected move. He had not anticipated her making such a bold and strategic play so early in the game.

"Well, look at you," he said with a hint of admiration, "that was quite a risky move. And it looks like it paid off. You just captured two of my men in one turn."

"It was only a quick strategy, Sir." (Y/N) smiled sheepishly.

Odysseus chuckled, shaking his head.

"You're being too modest. That was more than just a 'quick strategy.' It was a well-calculated move, and it left me two pieces down."

He studied the board, taking stock of his remaining pieces and formulating a plan.

"You're quite the competitor, aren't you?" Odysseus said with a hint of respect in his tone as he continued to study the board. "We're only a few moves in, and you're already putting me at a disadvantage."

Odysseus's expression turned serious as he focused on the board, his eyes scanning the pieces. He made his next move, a strategic one that not only defended his remaining men but also threatened (Y/N)'s.

Odysseus continued his assault, carefully maneuvering his men around (Y/N)'s, boxing her in and limiting her options. He was a skilled player, and he was determined to turn the tables on her.

"You see, in the game of Latrunculi, as in life, it's not just about making the moves that feel good or seem easy. It's about being able to adapt, to think several steps ahead, and to make sacrifices when necessary.

"You can't be afraid to take risks, even if it means losing a few pieces along the way. Sometimes, the most strategic move is to sacrifice a man to capture the Dux."

(Y/N) tries to navigate her troupe, backing her Dux and spreading out her men, but before she knew it, she's already in a corner, with Odysseus's own men and Dux cornering her.

"I knew I was rusty." (Y/N) sighs in defeat.

Odysseus chuckled, pleased with his victory.

"You played well, considering how 'rusty' you claim to be," he said with a smirk. "But you made a crucial mistake. You let yourself get cornered, and once you're corned in this game, it's difficult to escape."

(Y/N) looks at him in a bit of suspicion.

"This isn't about the game, isn't it, Sir?" She asked, ready for his interrogation.

Odysseus leaned back in his chair, studying (Y/N)'s expression. He could tell she suspected his true intent behind inviting her to play.

"Very perceptive of you," he said with a wry smile. "No, this wasn't just about the game. There's something else I wanted to discuss with you, something of a more...personal nature."

(Y/N)'s heart skipped a beat, her curiosity piqued. She had a feeling she knew what he wanted to talk about, but she remained silent, waiting for him to continue.

"I won't beat around the bush," Odysseus said bluntly, his gaze fixed on (Y/N). "I've noticed the way my son looks at you, the way he hangs on your every word. He's enamored with you, that much is clear. And as his father, I feel it's my responsibility to look out for him, to make sure he's not making any mistakes."

"I understand, As his bethrode I'll answer every question you ask to the best of my abilities." (Y/N) answers, her hands on her lap.

Odysseus's expression softened slightly, appreciating her sincerity. He leans forward, placing his hands on the desk.

"Good," he said, nodding. "That's what I wanted to hear. But before we get into that, I need to know for certain. Are you truly fond of Telemachus? Is your affection for him genuine?"

"Honestly sir, I didn't know how I lived before him, but he's everything I could ever ask for, his sweet, sensitive, thoughtful, and caring, a rarity among men, I'd lose my mind if I lost him." (Y/N) answers honestly with a blush (🙃)

Odysseus studied (Y/N)'s face, searching for any hint of insincerity. But all he saw was honesty and a genuine affection in her eyes. He could tell that she cared deeply for Telemachus, and it brought a small measure of reassurance to him as a father.

A wave of nostalgia washed over him. Her words reminded him of the younger version of himself, hopelessly in love with Penelope and willing to do anything for her. He couldn't help but see the similarities and feel a strange sense of familiarity.

"Your affection for my son, it's..." Odysseus trailed off for a moment before continuing, his gaze softening. "It's almost a mirror image of how I felt about his Mother, years ago. It's hard to deny that you genuinely care for him."

"Oh..." (Y/N) blushes, looking onto the ground shyly.

Odysseus chuckled softly, noticing her bashfulness.

"No need to be embarrassed," he said with a small smile. "It's a good thing, you know. Caring for someone deeply is a powerful feeling, and it can make all the difference in life."

His expression turned more serious.

"But, love and affection aside, there's another aspect I need to discuss with you."

(Y/N) looked up, her curiosity piqued once more. She had an idea of what he was going to ask next, but she waited for him to continue, mentally bracing herself.

"Your past," Odysseus began, his eyes fixed on her. "I know you haven't always been forthcoming about it, and there are things you've kept from Telemachus."

He leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms.

"I need to know the truth. Who are you really, (Y/N)? And what are you hiding?"

(Y/N)'s smile tightens, her eye twitching before coughing, dismissing her nervousness "W-well, Sir, as I've said before on our first meeting, I was born in Gibraltar under my Mother's care before her health declined, so my Aunt took me in and brought me to Athens, she's also a Teacher so she taught me everything I know, along with the different specialties of my Cousin, but my Aunt still has her own plights, as much as I want to stay with her, my Uncle, her husband, let's just say he isn't very...loyal, she already has too many on her plate so I decided I wanted to live on my own, in solitude.

Ithaca was the first choice with the lush greens and surrounded by water, but I later realized it wasn't that isolated..." (Y/N) tells her story, albeit vaguely.

Odysseus listened intently to (Y/N)'s story, his gaze sharp and observant. There were certain details and holes in her story that he picked up on, but he decided to focus on one particular thing she mentioned.

"You didn't mention your Father," he said quietly, his tone almost accusatory. "Why is that?"

"The Bastard can go screw himself." (Y/N) mutters harshly, surprising Odysseus.

"I-i mean, he isn't that much in the picture so I don't know him much." She tries to backtrack with a sheepish smile.

Odysseus raised an eyebrow, intrigued by (Y/N)'s sudden change in tone and the venom in her voice when talking about her Father. It was obvious there was animosity there, but he couldn't quite understand why.

"You seem to have quite a strong opinion of him," he observed, his gaze still fixed on her. "Yet you say you don't know him much. That's a rather conflicting statement, don't you think?"

(Y/N) looks at him in shock, before looking at her lap,her hand tightly clenched.

"He forced himself onto my mother..." (Y/N) admits with a frown.

Odysseus's expression darkened as (Y/N) revealed the truth about her Father. His hands clenched into fists, his knuckles turning white. He didn't like the sound of what she was insinuating.

"You mean..." he began, his voice a low rumble, "He...assaulted your mother?"

"I was the product of her defilement, as a child, I watched her degrade, crying herself to sleep, and the bastard didn't even bother checking on her or taking responsibility, he continued his life as usual, while I had to watch that beautiful woman self destruct." (Y/N) mutters, glaring onto her own hands.

Odysseus's heart ached for (Y/N) as she recounted her traumatic past. The disdain in her voice was palpable, and he could see the pain and hurt behind her words. He couldn't imagine how difficult it must have been for her to grow up under such circumstances.

"Your Father is a vile man," Odysseus spat out, his voice filled with disgust. "He didn't deserve to be called a Father, let alone sire a child."

"I'm so sorry that I didn't tell you, Sir. I was afraid you'd think I'm not the perfect match to your son with the circumstances of my birth." (Y/N) mutters with guilt.

Odysseus sighed, his initial anger cooling down into sympathy. He could see the shame and guilt in (Y/N) eyes, and he knew that she had carried a heavy burden with her for a long time.

"You don't need to apologize, (Y/N)" he said gently, his tone kinder now. "I can understand why you would keep such a thing to yourself, especially given the stigma surrounding your circumstances. But let me make one thing clear."

"The circumstances of your birth do not define you," Odysseus continued firmly. "You are more than just a victim of your Father's cruelty. You're a strong, intelligent, and kind-hearted young woman. Telemachus is lucky to have you as his betrothed, and nothing will change that."

"I must admit," he said thoughtfully, "I'm quite surprised at how you've taken to Telemachus so quickly. Considering the circumstances of your past, I would have expected you to be more guarded when it comes to matters of the heart."

"It's also one of the reasons why I wanted to live in isolation, but your son...is so different, he's not brash, not proud, not cocky, his caring, kind hearted, sensitive...everything that bastard could never be." (Y/N) mutters, not even realizing she's already swooning in the thought of Telemachus, snapping out of her daze.

"I-I'm sorry! I didn't mean to babble!"

Odysseus chuckled softly, amused by (Y/N)'s unabashed gushing about Telemachus. It was clear that she was completely smitten with his son.

"No need to apologize," he said, waving a hand gently. "You're in love, and Telemachus is a remarkable young man. I'm not surprised you can't help but gush about him."

He leaned back in his chair, a small smile on his lips.

"It's quite endearing, actually."

"But I have to ask," Odysseus continued, his tone becoming more serious again. "How do you think Telemachus would feel if he knew the truth about your past? About your Father?"

"I...I don't know..." (Y/N) admits, looking down onto her lap.

Odysseus was quiet for a moment, studying her expression. He could see the fear in her eyes, the worry at how Telemachus would react to the truth.

"You're afraid he'll reject you," he said bluntly, hitting the nail on the head. "You're afraid he won't be able to look at you the same way once he knows."

Egeria grew quite, biting her lip.

Odysseus's expression softened, his tone growing gentler.

"I understand your fear, (Y/N)," he said quietly. "But you can't keep something like this hidden forever. The truth has a way of coming out, and when it does, it's better that Telemachus hears it from you, rather than someone else."

He leaned forward, his gaze steady on her.

"You need to tell him."

"I don't know how, Sir." Odysseus's heart ached at the sight of (Y/N), the once confident and fiery young woman, now reduced to a trembling girl. He knew how much she cared for Telemachus, and he could see the fear in her eyes at the thought of losing him.

"(Y/N)," he said softly, his tone soothing. "I understand that it's difficult, but you can't keep something this important hidden forever. You need to be honest with Telemachus. You owe him that much."

"He loves you," Odysseus continued, his voice firm but kind. "And if he truly cares for you, he'll understand. But you have to give him the chance to understand. You can't let your fears hold you back."

He leaned back in his chair, his gaze still fixed on her.

"You're strong, (Y/N). You can do this."

She looks at him in shock, before sighing, smiling at Odysseus "Thank you for your advice, Sir." (Y/N) thanked him.

Odysseus nodded, a small smile on his face.

"Of course, (Y/N). But remember, this is something you need to do soon. The longer you wait, the harder it will be for the both of you."

He paused for a moment before speaking again.

"And (Y/N)?"

"Yes, Sir?" She asked, her attention fully on him.

"He loves you," Odysseus continued, his voice firm but kind. "And if he truly cares for you, he'll understand. But you have to give him the chance to understand. You can't let your fears hold you back."

He leaned back in his chair, his gaze still fixed on her.

"You're strong, (Y/N). You can do this."

Egeria looks at him, before smiling brightly at him "Thank you, Sir." (Y/N) thanked him one last time, before leaving his study, looking for Telemachus in the courtyard, training once more.

As Egeria made her way to the courtyard, she spotted Telemachus in the midst of a training session. He was drenched in sweat, his muscles straining as he wielded his sword with precision and power.

(Y/N) stood at the edge of the courtyard, watching him for a few moments, admiring the grace and strength with which he moved. It stirs something..sinful inside her, watching his sweat roll down body, every grunt as he swung his sword, but her fantasies have to wait at a later time.

Just as she was about to approach him, it suddenly...rained.

"What?" (Y/N) held out her hand, catching a few rain drops, before she felt something familiar in this brewing storm.

"No...it can't be..."

Meanwhile

Odysseus is in his study, cleaning up the Lactruculi pieces, before he noticed it started raining outside, this rain seems familiar, he looks outside the palace where it has the view of the beach...his heart dropped.

There stood...Poseidon.

Odysseus's heart pounding in his chest. Poseidon's presence sent a wave of unease through him, but he knew he had to face the god once again.

He steeled himself, taking a deep breath before stepping out of the palace and onto the beach where he found himself face to face face with the lord of the sea.

"Poseidon," Odysseus said coolly, his voice steady despite the churning emotions he felt inside. "What brings you here?"

Poseidon regarded him with a steely glare, his eyes narrowing in anger.

"You know why I'm here, Odysseus," he replied, his voice booming with authority. "Your arrogance and defiance has not gone unnoticed."

"But don't worry, I'm not here for you." Poseidon looks around, scanning the palace.

"Where is she?"

Odysseus's heart skipped a beat as he heard Poseidon's question.

"Who?" he asked, trying to hide the worry in his voice. He had a feeling he already knew who he was talking about, but he needed to be sure.

"A brat of mine who snuck into your kingdom, I usually don't care about any of them but this one's...a special case." Poseidon vaguely answers with a crude smile

Odysseus's gut twisted at Poseidon's words. He knew who he spoke of.

"(Y/N)," he muttered, but loud enough for Poseidon to hear.

"So that's her name, (Y/N)." Poseidon mutters in thought, pacing around on the sand.

"Good enough of a name, I guess, and I could only guess she didn't even bother telling you her story." Poseidon smirked, taunting Odysseus in his foolishness.

Odysseus tensed up, but he tried to keep his composure. He knew what Poseidon was doing, but he couldn't let his anger get the better of him.

"She's under my protection now," Odysseus said firmly. "Whatever grievances you have with her, you'll have to get through me first."

"Oh, I don't have any grievances with her, she's mine after all." Poseidon stated, before telling a chilling statement.

"I'm taking her now"

Odysseus's blood ran cold at Poseidon's statement. He couldn't let him take (Y/N), not after everything she had been through.

"No," he said firmly, his grip on his sword tightening. "You're not taking her anywhere."

Poseidon chuckled darkly, amused by Odysseus's defiance.

"You really think you can stop me, little king?" he taunted. "I am a god, and she is mine to do with as I please."

Odysseus gritted his teeth, his resolve steeling. He knew what he was up against, but he couldn't let (Y/N) bear the consequences of Poseidon's cruel desires.

"You may be a god, but I'm not going to let you hurt her," he retorted, his voice filled with determination. "You'll have to go through me first."

Poseidon smirked, his eyes gleaming cruelly.

"And so it shall be," he snarled, his hand reaching towards the sea, the waters rising and beginning to churn viciously. "You may think you stand a chance, but you're just a mortal, and I am a god of the sea. Do you truly think you can defeat me?"

The sea roared in fury as Poseidon drew power from the depths, unleashing a brutal barrage of attacks on Odysseus.

Before Odysseus could draw his blade, the gushing waters paused in place, stopping in front of him, before it burst into nothing.

"Enough" a cold voice orders behind Odysseus, as (Y/N) walked past him, the waters churning around her, glaring at Poseidon.

Odysseus was stunned, the waters obeying her command. He had never seen such power emanate from her before.

Poseidon's gaze hardened as he shifted his attention to (Y/N).

"(Y/N)," he said, his voice a mixture of irritation and...pride. "You've grown stronger."

"Spare me your adulation, it's disgusting hearing it from you." (Y/N) stops him in his tracks, glaring at him.

"What do you want?"

Poseidon's expression darkened at (Y/N)'s sharp tone.

"I've come to take you back, of course," he replied matter-of-factly. "You're my brat, and you belong to the sea."

"Why now? You didn't even spare me as much of a glance when I was under Hera's care, you looked at me with disgust, why should I believe I belong with you?." (Y/N) snapped back at him, the waters around her rising.

Poseidon sneered, his irritation growing at her defiance.

"You're still a mouthy little thing, I see," he grumbled. "I may have looked at you with disgust, that was because I wasn't ready to acknowledge you then, but now...I see potential in you."

"No, no you don't, I don't believe you, I think you're only using me as an excuse, because you can't get over the fact that Odysseus had bested you at your own game." (Y/N) insulted, continuing her glare of him

Poseidon's expression darkened even further, anger now blazing in his eyes. He was not used to being insulted, especially not by his own child.

"Do you have any idea who you're speaking to, girl?" he growled, his voice booming with authority, sending waves after her. "I am the lord of the sea! You should show me some respect!"

"All I see is a bastard who can't get over his lost, the same bastard who destroyed my mother." (Y/N) insulted once more, before stopping Poseidon's waves

Poseidon's anger turned to full-blown rage at Egeria's words, his face contorting in fury.

"How dare you speak to me like that, you insolent little brat!" he roared, his voice thundering across the beach. "You have no right to judge me or my actions! I am a god, and you are just a mortal, never forget your place!"

As (Y/N) and Poseidon clashed, their battle shaking the very earth. The water and the earth collided fiercely and neither backed down to the other. Poseidon was filled with rage while (Y/N) held a calm gaze.

Odysseus watched them from the sidelines, torn between worry and awe.

The sea raged around them, responding to (Y/N)'s control as she fought against her father's relentless assault. Poseidon was filled with a mix of anger and grudging respect for his daughter's power, while (Y/N) fought with a cool determination, never faltering.

But someone can falter it.

Telemachus sprinted towards the beach, panic etched on his face as he saw the intense battle unfolding before him. Without hesitation, he ran towards (Y/N) and Poseidon.

Odysseus's eyes widened in alarm as he saw Telemachus rushing towards the fighting and he called out to him, "Telemachus! Wait! Don't-"

Poseidon looks at the running Prince, before smirking at (Y/N), his water arm grew in size, reaching for the Prince.

"TELEMACHUS!" Telemachus's heart seized in terror as he saw the water hand reach for him, but before it could grab him, (Y/N) pushed him away, taking the hand's grasp herself.

"No!" Telemachus shouted. "(Y/N)!"

"Get out of here! Please, I'll be fine!" (Y/N) begs, struggling in Poseidon's hold.

Telemachus hesitated, torn between the desire to run away and the need to help (Y/N). He looked at her, struggling in Poseidon's grasp, and his heart ached at her plea.

"I can't just leave you!" he protested, his voice filled with desperation.

Poseidon smirked at Telemachus's plea, the sound of his despair music to his ears.

"Oh, how sweet, the prince is for his princess," he mocked, his grip on (Y/N) tightening. "But you can't help her, boy. She's mine, and there's nothing you can do to stop me."

"Why are you taking her!? She has nothing to do with you!" Telemachus screamed, watching her squirm in Poseidon hold, struggling.

"Nothing to do with her? My, She didn't tell you as well?" Poseidon taunted with a smirk.

Telemachus's confusion deepened at Poseidon's words.

"What do you mean? Tell me what?" Telemachus demanded, his gaze filled with a mixture of anger and desperation.

She watched him with a helpless expression, her struggles growing weaker as Poseidon's grip tightened.

"This one is my kin, my daughter." Poseidon shook her in front of Telemachus like a doll, as she could only look at him in shame.

Telemachus's eyes widened in utter shock, his mind struggling to process Poseidon's words.

"Your...daughter? But... but that means..." Telemachus's voice trailed off as he looked at (Y/N), a mix of realization and disbelief on his face.

"Is it true?" he asked her softly, his expression torn between confusion and concern.

(Y/N) looks at him in shame, tears in her eyes.

"I'm sorry, my Love." She apologizes, before being pulled away from him.

"Yeah, yeah, enough with the sappy sentiments." Poseidon rolls his eyes as she continues to struggle in his hold.

Telemachus watched she being pulled away from him, his heart sinking. He couldn't believe he had fallen so madly in love with the daughter of the king of the seas.

"No, wait! You can't take her!" Telemachus protested, trying to move closer to them.

"Why? You actually love this halfbreed of mine?" Poseidon waves her around in front of him like a toy, as she continued to struggle

Telemachus's face contorted with anger and helplessness.

"Yes, I do! She may be your daughter, but that doesn't change the fact that I love her!" Telemachus retorted, his voice filled with passion.

(Y/N) felt a jolt of surprise at Telemachus's declaration of love before looking at him with a mixture of guilt and longing, while Poseidon simply chuckled at the prince's words.

"Love? Ha! You think you love her? You don't even know her, you fool! You don't know what she really is!" Poseidon taunted, his grip on her tightening as he spoke, making her grunt.

Telemachus's face grew even more determined at Poseidon's taunts. He knew he didn't fully understand who (Y/N) was, but he also knew deeply that he loved her.

"It doesn't matter! I love her, and I refuse to let you take her away from me!" Telemachus retorted, his voice firm despite the fear he felt.

Poseidon chuckled at Telemachus's defiance, his expression growing sly.

"You love her, huh? Well, what if I proposed a little challenge then?" he suggested, his grip on (Y/N) loosening slightly.

"No! Telemachus! I'll be fine-" Before (Y/N) could protest, her head was shoved into the water hand.

"Relax, this one can breathe under water...I think." Poseidon mutters the last part to himself, as (Y/N) pounded at the surface of it.

Telemachus's heart raced at the sight of (Y/N) head being shoved underwater. But before he could panic further, he heard Poseidon's reassurance that she could breathe underwater. Nonetheless, Telemachus's mind raced with worry.

"What kind of challenge?" Telemachus asked, his voice shaky but resolute.

"Go to my own home turf, the Aegean Sea, come give your in law a visit and it'll be a leveled playing field, for me of course, if you win, She's all yours, and if you lose, I'll turn this halfbreed into seafoam." Poseidon challenges with a smirk.

"And don't even think about not coming at all, because I'll simply turn her into seafoam as well."

Telemachus's heart felt like it was going to explode. He was being challenged to a battle he had no chance of winning. But if he didn't accept, (Y/N) would be turned into seafoam...

"Fine," Telemachus agreed through gritted teeth. "I'll go to the Aegean Sea. But if I win, you let (Y/N) go."

(Y/N) banged on the surface of the hand, shaking her head, begging for him not to accept the challenge

"Excellent, that, if you win of course." Poseidon taunted with a smile, before slowly walking back to the sea, make his point.

Telemachus watched Poseidon walk towards the sea, his mind racing. He knew he had no chance of winning the upcoming battle, but he had no choice. He couldn't let (Y/N) be turned into seafoam.

Suddenly, with a dagger lent to her by Ioannis, she broke the water surface, screaming at him.

"Telemachus! I'm sorry I didn't tell you! Don't come for me! Please! Stay ali-" before (Y/N) could finish what she's saying, she already pulled into the ocean with Poseidon, disappearing into the seas.

"(Y/N)!" Telemachus shouted, his voice filled with desperation. The sight of (Y/N) being pulled into the sea, disappearing from his sight, was unbearable. He ran towards the edge of the shore, his heart racing with panic and helplessness.

"No! No! Bring her back!" Telemachus screamed, unable to contain his anguish. He was torn between anger at Poseidon and guilt for accepting the challenge.

Odysseus, who had watched the scene unfold in horror, pulled Telemachus into his arms. He held him tightly, trying to offer some comfort in the midst of the chaos.

Telemachus, still reeling from the shock of what just happened, pushed Odysseus away.

"Let go of me! I have to go after her!" Telemachus protested, his voice choked with emotion.

"You know you can't do that, my boy," Odysseus replied, his voice firm but filled with empathy. "Poseidon has her now, and there's no way you can fight him in his own domain."

"But I can't just sit here and do nothing!" Telemachus protested, his eyes filled with desperation. "I love her, Father. I can't let her be taken away from me."

Odysseus sighed, his heart breaking for his son. He knew how much Telemachus loved (Y/N), and the pain of being separated from her must be unbearable.

Odysseus took a deep breath and began to speak, his voice tinged with a mix of empathy and skepticism.

"Telemachus," he began, his grip on his son's shoulders tight but gentle. "I know you love (Y/N), but you have to consider the possibility that she may have been tricking you this entire time."

Telemachus looked at his father in shock, his heart clenching at the implication. "What do you mean?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

"(Y/N) is Poseidon's daughter," Odysseus explained. "It's possible that she's been playing a role all along, manipulating your feelings for her to serve her father's purposes."

"No," Telemachus protested, his mind unwilling to accept the idea. "She couldn't have been faking her feelings for me. I know she loves me, Father. I can feel it in my heart."

Odysseus sighed, his heart heavy with the burden of uncertainty. "The heart can be deceived, my son. You have to consider the possibility that her love for you may have been part of a ruse to manipulate and control you."

Telemachus shook his head, his expression pained but resolute. "I can't believe you're saying this, Father. (Y/N) loves me, I know it. I saw it in her eyes, I felt it in her touch. How can you doubt that?"

Odysseus placed a hand on Telemachus's shoulder, his gaze filled with compassion. "I'm not doubting your feelings for her, my boy. I'm just asking you to consider the possibility that she may have had ulterior motives all along. After all, she's the daughter of Poseidon, and who knows what schemes the gods have in store for mortals like us."

"What's going on here?" Penelope asked in worry, walking into the beach towards her husband and son.

"There was a storm and it suddenly disappeared, what happened?" Penelope asked once more, looking at Odysseus for answers.

Odysseus took a deep breath before turning to his wife. He knew he had to tell her what had happened, but he also knew it would not be easy.

"It's... complicated, my love," he started, his voice heavy with a mix of guilt and worry. "There was a storm, yes, but it wasn't a natural one. Poseidon was here, and he..." Odysseus trailed off, unsure of how to continue.

Penelope's face paled as she listened to her husband, her heart sinking with dread. She knew deep down what he was going to say before he even spoke the words.

"He took (Y/N), didn't he?" she asked softly, her voice barely more than a whisper.

Odysseus looked at his wife in surprise. He had been expecting shock, disbelief, even anger, but not this.

"How did you know, my love?" Odysseus asked, his voice filled with curiosity and a hint of suspicion.

"If so...then you must have known of her secret?" Penelope asked with a frown, her eyebrows furrowed

"...She already told me once." Penelope admits, looking at the ground

Odysseus's eyes widened in surprise. He hadn't expected his wife to know about (Y/N)'s true identity, but here she was, confessing that she already knew.

"You knew this entire time?" he asked, his voice tinged with a mix of confusion and frustration.

Telemachus couldn't believe his ears. His mother had known about (Y/N)'s true identity and kept it a secret from him, even as he had fallen in love with her. He felt a mixture of anger and betrayal.

"You knew, Mother?" Telemachus asked, his voice filled with disbelief. "You knew that (Y/N) was the daughter of Poseidon?"

"Let me finish" Penelope raised a hand, trying to calm both her son and husband.

"Her Father is Poseidon...and her Mother's Medusa." Penelope revealed with a tight frown.

The news hit Odysseus like a thunderbolt. (Y/N)'s mother was Medusa, the woman who had been violated by Poseidon himself. Suddenly, everything made sense.

His expression turned somber as he realized the weight of (Y/N)'s situation. "So, the story she told me about her Mother… it's true," he mumbled to himself, the reality sinking in.

Telemachus's mind raced as he tried to process the revelations. He was still grappling with the fact that (Y/N) was the daughter of Poseidon and Medusa, and now he was hearing about her mother's tragic past.

He turned to his mother, his expression a mix of confusion and anger. "Why didn't you tell me?" he asked, his voice tinged with frustration. "Why keep all this a secret?"

"I wanted her to tell you herself, but she was too scared, too afraid of what you'd think of her." Penelope answers at the best of her abilities.

Telemachus felt a pang of guilt and empathy. He understood that (Y/N) must have been afraid to reveal her true identity, given the circumstances of her birth and the reputation of her family.

"But why would she think I'd react badly? I love her regardless of who her parents are," he protested, his voice growing in volume.

Penelope gave him a sad smile, placing a hand on his arm. "Sometimes, people's fears are not always based in logic, my son," she said softly. "Even though you may love her and accept her as she is, she may have grown up with a lifetime of prejudice and judgement because of her bloodline. That kind of fear can be difficult to overcome."

"And you were the only one who had loved her wholeheartedly, it would have crushed her if you thought so differently of her, fearing for the worse." Penelope explains with a frown.

Telemachus's heart ached at his mother's words. He could only imagine the loneliness and self-doubt (Y/N) must have felt, believing that everyone would judge her for her parentage.

"Is that why she was so hesitant to tell me?" he asked, his voice tinged with sadness.

"She loves you too much to loose you, Telemachus." Penelope explains.

Telemachus nodded, understanding the weight of her words. (Y/N)'s love for him must have been so powerful that she was willing to keep her true identity a secret, fearing that it would drive him away.

"I don't care about her lineage, her past, or her family," he said firmly, meeting his mother's gaze. "I love her for who she is, and nothing can change that, that's why I'm going after her."

Odysseus shook his head, his expression hardening. "No, Telemachus. You can't go after (Y/N)," he said firmly. "It's too dangerous. Poseidon is a vengeful god, and he won't hesitate to hurt you if you get in his way."

"Believe me, I know that." Odysseus added, reminding Telemachus of his stories about Poseidon.

Telemachus sighed, frustrated by his father's protectiveness. He knew all too well the stories of Poseidon's wrath, but none of that mattered to him now.

"I don't care about the dangers, Father," Telemachus argued, his voice growing in volume. "I have to save (Y/N). I love her, and I won't let Poseidon have her."

"Your old man's right, Lover boy~" a teasing voice suddenly joins in, startling the family, it was Hermes.

Telemachus's eyes widened in surprise as Hermes, the god of messengers, appeared before them.

"Hermes?" he asked, taken aback by the god's sudden appearance.

Odysseus scowled at the god, not pleased by his sudden appearance. "What are you doing here, Trickster?" he asked gruffly.

"Just here to lend a helping hand, just like the old times, old friend" Hermes zips around Odysseus, pinching his cheek

Odysseus swats at Hermes, trying to shoo him away. "Stop that! I'm too old for your games, Hermes."

Hermes chuckles, hovering just out of Odysseus's reach. "Oh come on, don't be such a sourpuss. Where's the old Odysseus I knew and annoyed?"

"I'm right here, you annoying god," Odysseus grumbled, glaring at Hermes. "Now, can you get to the point and tell us why you're here? We don't have all day."

"Well, Young lad, It's your lucky day, because someone up above with high power has given me strick orders to help, and I mean it very seriously, she hates my guts and doesn't usual intrude in human affairs so consider yourself lucky." Hermes explains, a large grin on his lips

Telemachus's heart leapt at Hermes's words. Could it be true? Was he really here to help?

Odysseus's expression remained neutral, not yet convinced. "Help with what, exactly? And who gave you these instructions?" he asked, his voice full of skepticism.

"that's besides the point" Hermes presented him a bag.

"inside this bag are Brutus Flowers, its pollen and necter has the ability to render a god into a mortal, though with Poseidon being the God of the Seas, his system will flush out these out in lets say 3 to 5 minutes tops, but that'll give you enough time to defeat him, wouldn't it?" Hermes held out the bag, covering his nose with his chiton for good measure.

Telemachus's eyes widened, hope rekindling in his heart. A way to defeat Poseidon, even if just for a few minutes. It was a chance, a glimmer of hope.

Odysseus's initial skepticism began to fade, giving way to cautious optimism. He knew better than to trust the Trickster god at face value, but this was their only chance.

"Brutus Flowers," he mused, his voice tinged with a hint of excitement. "I've heard tales of their power, but I never thought I'd actually get to use them."

"Well you do need the help, correct? and I don't want to be gutted, so what do you say? Are you going to rescue your Princess?" Hermes asked Odysseus, before turning to Telemachus.

Telemachus was practically vibrating with anticipation.

"I'm going after her," he stated firmly, his voice filled with determination.

Odysseus looked at his son, his expression a mixture of pride and worry. He could see the fire in Telemachus's eyes, the strength and courage that would one day make him a great leader.

"Alright," Odysseus finally relented, his voice weary, but firm. "We'll do it. We'll use the Brutus Flowers to take down Poseidon."

Odysseus's decision to join Telemachus surprised even himself. He hadn't intended on accompanying him on this dangerous mission.

"I can't let you go alone, boy," Odysseus said, his voice heavy with resignation. "I may be a bit slower and older, but I still have some fight left in me."

Telemachus felt a wave of gratitude towards his father. He knew that Odysseus was taking a risk by joining him, and it meant a lot to him that his father believed in him enough to do so.

"Thank you, Father," Telemachus said quietly, his voice filled with a mix of relief and determination. "We'll get (Y/N) back, together."

"Yes, yes, family and all, anyways, you might want to say something to the missus before embarking on this fight." Hermes points out to Penelope, who looks at them with a frown

Odysseus and Telemachus both turn to look at Penelope, her expression a mix of worry and resignation. They knew they were asking a lot of her, to let them go on this dangerous quest.

Odysseus approached his wife, taking her hand in his. "Penelope, my love," he said softly, his voice tinged with regret. "I need to go with Telemachus. I can't let him face Poseidon alone."

"But...you just got here." Penelope teared up, looking at Odysseus.

"But I know...we can't let our son go on his own..."

Odysseus wrapped his arms around Penelope, holding her close. "I know, my love. I just got back, and I never wanted to leave you again."

Telemachus watched his parents, his heart heavy with guilt for putting them both in this position. He hated seeing his mother in tears, but he knew he had to go. Egeria needed him.

"We'll be alright," Odysseus reassured Penelope, his voice steady and calm. "I promise we'll come back, both of us."

Odysseus looked at Telemachus, meeting his gaze with a nod. They were in this together, come what may.

Penelope nodded, wiping away her tears. She knew there was no point in trying to change their minds. These were two stubborn men, both strong-willed and determined.

"Just...come back to me," she said softly, her voice filled with quiet desperation.

Odysseus placed a gentle kiss on her forehead. "We will, my love. I promise."

Telemachus stepped forward, embracing his mother tightly. "We'll be back before you know it, Mother."

Penelope held him close, her grip tight. "I'll be counting the days, my son."

"We have to go now," Odysseus said softly, his voice tinged with remorse.

Telemachus nodded, understanding the weight of their words.

"Goodbye, Mother," he said softly, his voice filled with love and determination.

Odysseus took a step back, taking one last look at Penelope, before turning his gaze to Hermes.

"Alright, Trickster, lead the way." Odysseus said gruffly, gripping the bag of Brutus Flowers tightly in his hand.

(A/N: Are you catching these references I'm throwing?)

[incognit0slut]

Right Kind of Wrong (5)

She never thought she would be involved in a murder investigation and encounter her one-night-stand again, the awkward guy who isn’t exactly that good in bed—Or is he? Offended by the sentiment, Spencer is determined to prove her wrong… But as he gets tangled with the beautiful stranger, he realizes there is more to her than what meets the eye

Part summary: Spencer’s lack of experience on the female anatomy is educated by her. wc: 4,7k

Warnings: 18+ explicit content, graphic details of murder

a/n: sorry it took me longer to update, kind of went through a writer’s block but finally got back the vibe

Other parts: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14

SPENCER WAS A MAN ON A MISSION. His steps echoed on the marble floor the next morning as he entered the mundane space of the bureau, hand gripping the strap of his bag. The glass door separating the familiarity of his disorganized desk greeted him, but before he could enter the room, his heels turned towards a certain part of the office he was accustomed to.

He pushed the door at the end of the hallway to find Garcia typing away on her keyboard, her eyes fixated on the screen in front of her. The sudden sound of his arrival startled her before she swiveled in her chair, because the man standing by the door hardly visited her this early, especially when he still had his bag thrown over his shoulder.

"Well, well, well. If it isn't the good doctor." She leaned back in her chair and gave him a grin. "What do I owe the pleasure of your presence in the safety of my lair?"

Spencer took a cautious step into the room as he closed the door behind him. "I need you to find me an address."

"That is my specialty." She turned back to her monitors. "Hit me."

"Y/n L/n."

There was a heavy pause as her fingers hovered above the keyboard. The familiarity of the name had her eying him as he stepped into her line of vision. "Isn't she one of the witnesses you talked to last night?"

He awkwardly cleared his throat. "Yes, she is."

"And you need her address because...?"

"I..." A sense of dread and anxiety hit him as he felt the intensity of her scrutinizing gaze. "I—I have further questions to ask."

Garcia wasn't an expert in profiling, unlike most of her teammates, but she wasn't blind when it came to picking out other people's sudden change of composure. Spencer's usually calm demeanor was suddenly replaced with discomfort, something that rarely occurred unless the topic of conversation extremely flustered him.

"You know," she started, slightly twisting her body. "Morgan told me something interesting happened last night, and I'm usually not one to gossip—" She rolled her eyes at the look he gave her. "Alright, fine, maybe I am. But it's not gossip if it's true."

His face twisted into a frown. "What did he tell you?"

"That the pretty witness lady may or may not know you personally." When he didn't respond, she urged on, "So? Is it true?"

Spencer quickly dropped his gaze to the floor. He considered himself to be a very private person, one that didn't share much about their personal life. The introverted trait in him preferred the comfort of spending his time engrossed with his own thoughts than engaging in unnecessary, awkward conversations with others. So whenever he received attention regarding his private matters, he couldn't help but feel uncomfortable under the spotlight.

"I cannot confirm nor deny that."

She scoffed. "You do realize you're not making it any less suspicious, right?"

She then proceeded in typing the name of the woman he had met the previous night but immediately stopped, her eyes piercing back at him. "What?"

"I will give you the address if you tell me whether you need it for work or personal reasons."

This was why he disliked human interaction. Couldn't one go on with their own lifestyle without questioning another person's way of life?

He let out an irritated sigh. "Garcia."

"Reid."

He pondered whether he could get away without explaining the intention of his request. But this was Penelope Garcia, known to be relentless with an interest in exchanging information about the personal lives of the team members. There was no other choice than to cave in if he wanted to avoid her persistent persuasion, so he answered—although reluctantly—in a very low voice, "Personal reasons.”

"I knew it!" She gleefully laughed. She focused her attention back onto her monitor, her fingers working their wonders before a passport picture of a woman stared back at them through the screen. "Ooh, she's pretty."

She really was. The person staring back at him was smiling, something he hadn't seen the last time he saw her. Her smile was an incredibly beautiful thing to behold. It was also incredibly contagious as he found his lips curling into a smile of his own, his eyes scanning across every feature on her radiant face. He was completely enthralled, it was as if her beauty had a grip on him, putting him in some sort of trance.

She was absolutely beautiful.

"Do you want me to save her picture? Send it to your phone?"

He felt the warmth spreading along his cheeks. "No." He turned his gaze towards the address printed on the left side of the screen, memorizing the exact street and the number of her residential.

"When I said you were a Casanova, I didn't think it would come to this extent." He threw her a frown as she explained, "A few days ago you had a lady friend at your place, and now this."

Spencer pursed his lips together. His palms immediately began to sweat as she sent him a wicked grin. His silence was all that it took for her to bounce in her chair, hands clapping at the irony of the situation. "No way. Are you telling me this is the same woman you met at the bar? The same stranger you spent the night with is the exact witness you talked to last night?"

He turned on his heels. "Goodbye, Garcia."

"Wait—no!" She grabbed him by the arm, forcing him to face her again. "Oh my god, I am so invested. This is way more entertaining than the show I'm currently watching!"

He heaved out a sigh. "I'm glad you can find amusement in my misery."

"Misery? This isn't misery, sweetheart, this is amazing. When was the last time you were involved with someone?" Far too long, he thought to himself, but his answer must've shown across his face. "Exactly. Now, aren't you glad I didn't show up that night?"

He shook his head, deciding not to answer her question, and crossed his arms instead. "This stays between us, okay?"

She nodded eagerly. "Of course."

"And you can't even mention this to Morgan."

"What?" She groaned as he proceeded to scowl at her. "Alright, alright. He will not hear any of this."

He assessed her one last time, cautiously weighing any possibility of her bluff. But when she returned his gaze with a suddenly concerned stare, he had to double-check whether he was seeing right. The mischievous glint in her eyes was replaced by a deep sense of worry, her face melting into the familiar solemn look she flashed whenever she had something important to say.

"Hey, Reid." She leaned back in her chair, tilting her head to the side. "You'll be careful, right?"

The sudden grimness of her tone caught him by surprise. "What do you mean?"

She paused for a moment, trying to sort out her words without wanting to offend him. "I just want to remind you that we're currently in the middle of investigating a case that involves her."

"She's only a witness," he pointed out.

"Doesn't make her any less important. Reid, when you're emotionally involved with anyone who is linked to a case we're working on, there's a high chance it can get messy. You know that."

Oh, how he knew that all too well. He knew how very unhealthy it could be, and how getting emotionally attached to someone involved in a case could lead to irrational or compromised decision-making. It could be a potential source of bias and it could make anyone put their personal feelings above what was best for the investigation. It could cloud people’s judgment. This was something that he would never recommend, something that he would urge anyone on the team to avoid doing.

So was he being rational now? Was running a background check on someone for personal reasons deemed appropriate?

Probably not. It was a very risky thing to consider, but Spencer was smart enough to understand how important it was to keep his emotions intact. The possibility of things getting out of hand would only happen if he couldn't keep it under control, which he was certain that he could, and he would never let anything stop him from doing his job.

"I'll be careful," he finally responded. "Thanks, Garcia."

"You are most definitely welcome, lover boy." She gave him a genuine smile before turning back toward her devices. "Now go and get your girl so I can go back to my work."

His body tensed. "She's not my girl."

She threw him a look that told him she didn't believe a word he said, something he was starting to question himself. He quickly shook his head and strode out of the room, completely denying Garcia's admission, because in his mind, Y/n was merely the stranger he met on one random night. She was simply the woman who ended up in his bed. She was the mysterious enigma who slipped into the night with nothing but a nod. She was the one who looked at him in disbelief at their unexpected encounter.

She was all of the things above, but she was definitely not his girl.

"You need to install a security camera."

Tapping her fingers lightly against the mug in her hands, eyes fixed on the black liquid of the freshly brewed coffee, Y/n blew out a rough breath. "Please worry about yourself."

"Or better yet, get a dog," the man across from her suggested. "Those big hound dogs that would scare people off. They can easily sense danger when they see one."

"Why would I need a dog when I have you?"

He frowned at her. "I'm being serious."

"And you think I'm not?"

He went completely still, his eyes trailing across her face. "Is that a trick question?"

She took a sip of the warm coffee, letting it calm her frustration as she pondered whether kicking him out of her own house was a better option than dragging him out through the door.

"Oliver," she muttered, her voice laced with annoyance while she carefully put down her mug on the countertop. "You have practically stationed yourself in my house, barking at anyone you think might be a potential danger."

"Y/n," he followed her gesture, leaning closer into the small space of her kitchen. "It's for your safety."

"You shouted at my mailman!"

"He took an awful lot of time talking to you."

She pinched the bridge of her nose, trying not to cause a scene in the sanctuary of her own home. She had woken up this morning, limbs tangled in her sheet and body aching from all the emotions she went through the previous night, and decided she would spend the day relaxing the tension in her nerves. Do some grocery shopping, head to the beauty salon to get a manicure and a nice haircut that was long overdue, and ravish herself with a delicious meal at the new restaurant she had been wanting to visit.

But all her plans went down the drain when she heard a loud knock the moment she opened her eyes. She found Oliver standing on her front porch, holding his trademark smile and amiable posture, before lunging at her with concern while asking a bunch of questions related to what had happened.

At first, she accepted his worry, what was she to do when a friend came to her house to make sure she was doing alright? But the longer he stayed the more she wondered whether letting him inside her home was the smartest thing to do. She knew Oliver was a very persistent person, but she wasn't aware of him being this insufferable.

"You know what would make me feel safe?" She walked out of the kitchen, expecting him to follow her, something he had been doing throughout the day. "For you to stop breathing down my neck and let me enjoy my weekend in peace."

Her plan worked, he was already hot on her heels as he watched her stalk toward the front area of her house. "I came by to check in on you."

"Since the morning, it's almost 5 PM." She tugged the door open before stepping to the side. "I'm sure I can manage on my own now—"

"Who’s that?"

Shd followed his line of sight and frowned when a black vehicle stopped right at her curb, its engine cutting off a moment later. She watched as the door wrenched open and felt her heart drop as a familiar face stared directly back. The shock of seeing someone unexpected took her by surprise, it was an incredibly powerful feeling that left her pretty shaken up and even a little bit stunned, because right on her driveway was none other than Spencer-fucking-Reid.

Seeing him in action for his job last night was enough to captivate her. But watching him in a tight FBI vest over a button-down with his sleeves rolled up, showing off firm arms and veins running along the back of his hands, mesmerized her in a way that had her weak in the knees.

Suits had become the sexiest thing she'd ever seen on a man after she saw him last night—firmly replacing uniforms, she had always been a sucker for military men... until now. The authority he held wearing that vest easily became her favorite clothing on a man. On him precisely, including the gun strapped to the side of his hip. How the sight of a dangerous weapon on him could be so attractive was beyond her.

She felt Oliver inching closer, his voice extremely low, "Do you want me to bark?"

She heard his words perfectly, but her attention was too focused on the other man as he stepped onto her porch. She wasn't questioning how he got her address—because authorities could easily search any citizen's information, right?—but she was curious why he bothered coming to her house. "What are you doing here?"

Sensing the recognition in her voice, Oliver addressed the unknown man with a hard stare. "Who are you again?"

"Special Agent Dr. Spencer Reid," he introduced himself, flashing his badge. "I have further questions for Ms. L/n regarding a certain case."

"You mean Jamison's murder?"

Spencer nodded, leveling his gaze with the man who stood too close to her for his liking. "I need to talk to her personally."

It was another way for him to urge Oliver out of her house, Y/n noted, which was something she didn't oppose. Oliver tensed beside her, throwing her a doubtful look. "Will you be fine?"

Would she be fine being left alone with someone she wanted nothing to do after everything that happened? Maybe not. But it was better than to have Oliver gluing himself in her home. "I’ll be fine. You can go, Oliver."

The two men addressed one another, and the mood suddenly turned intense. Spencer was very cautious and deliberate with each of his movements, trying to be intuitive and on alert for any possible threat or danger. But then Oliver nodded his head and smiled at him, shrugging away any tension that lingered in the air.

He turned towards her. "Call me if you need anything."

She stepped aside and let him pass, breathing out a grateful sigh as she finally watched him walk down the street.

"Boyfriend?"

"No," she quickly replied, frowning at the idea of Oliver being her partner. Then she shot Spencer a look. "Not that it's any of your business."

He probably deserved that. He nodded behind her as his eyes scanned the entrance of her house. "Can I come in?"

There was something about letting the man into her home. It was a very special and sacred place that brought peace and joy after a long day of work. Letting him into the comfort of her house meant letting him into a personal part of herself.

She opened the door further before he stepped inside, his eyes scanning every nook and corner. She cleared her throat and closed the door behind her. "So, you wanted to ask me more questions?"

There was a moment of silence as he turned around. "I actually came here to apologize." When she didn't respond, he added, "About last night."

She narrowed her eyes. "What exactly are you apologizing for?"

"It seemed we got off the wrong foot yesterday and I want to apologize if I offended you in any way."

The memory of last night's encounter flashed before her eyes; their unexpected encounter, the way he acted as if he had never held her naked, and how he wanted no one else to know their tryst, keeping it as a mere rendezvous between two strangers. There was some truth in that, but there was also another truth in her disappointment, and suddenly she was extremely tired of all these emotions.

"Last night was... it was awkward for both of us,” she decided to say. "Why don't we forget it ever happened?"

"Forget what?"

"Everything?" She crossed her arms, shifting her weight from one foot to another. "About last night, about—" She mentally winced. "About what happened the first night we met.”

She noticed the way his shoulders tensed. His eyes had narrowed almost imperceptibly as he studied her quietly in return. "Why?"

"What do you mean why?”

"Why do you want to forget that night?"

There was something unnerving about the way he looked at her. One of her hands nervously tucked a strand of hair behind her ear as she eyed him. She felt her heart rate pick up slightly—there could only be one reason he was asking this, right?

"Do you not want to forget it?"

She could see the way his cheeks were twitching, the muscles working as if he was weighing his next words. He took a step forward, cautiously scanning his eyes across her face. Staring wasn't quite the word for what he was doing. His eyes rested on her, not unblinking but slowed; yet the effect was soft and inviting instead of harsh or demanding. Perhaps it was his lips that give away his intention, like a ghost of a smile peeking through his features in the stillness of the room.

"What if I want a repeat of it?"

She is nhaled a sharp breath, her heart rate drastically climbing in her chest she could feel her pulse vibrating through her entire body. His unvoiced suggestion hung heavily in the air. She felt that first warm flood of arousal struck her, the blood in her body abruptly shifting south.

A shiver ran down her spine, goosebumps abruptly rising along her forearms. "What are you trying to say?"

His mouth pulled back into a slow smile before she watched him inch forward, carefully closing the distance between them. A moment later he was leaning towards her, reaching his hands out deliberately slow. Her eyes followed their movements, her breathing increasing as his hands found her own. Carefully, he started to pull her, moving extremely slow, as if giving her plenty of time to register what was happening and a chance for her to pull away.

But she didn't, instead, her body followed his direction, letting him tug her across the small gap separating them.

"I grew up in Las Vegas," he suddenly said, hands moving up her arms. "I was a child prodigy in a public school, and believe it or not, I've suffered worse things growing up than in my line of work now."

Her brows furrowed in confusion. "What?"

"Last night you didn't know the city I grew up in." A smile stretched across his lip. "And now you do."

The hands on her arms gripped a bit tighter, carefully urging her to move closer. The warmth radiating from his body was already driving her wild. How was it possible for one person to make her feel like she was completely losing her mind?

He was playing with fire, and she was practically a moth to a flame.

Her hands cautiously slid along his shoulders and up the length of his neck. She felt a faint rumble in his throat as her fingertips slid over the skin of it. Her eyes focused on the way he was watching her, eyes fluttering in a haze, mouth slightly parted. Biting her lip, she slipped her hand into his disheveled hair, carefully raking her fingers through the softness of it. He instantly leaned into the touch as she felt the growing need in her rising.

"Is this even allowed?" She breathed out, shuddering at the way the firmness of his vest pressed against her chest. "Fornicating with the witness?"

"It's probably not the wisest thing to do," was his honest reply.

She pulled him closer as she felt his arms settling around her waist. "Yet you still want to break the rules?"

Eyes dropping down to her mouth, his gaze lingered on her luscious lips. Gradually he leaned down towards her, his own lips parting as their breaths mingled in the small space between them. He shifted his forehead against hers, his nose lightly bumping into her own.

"Wouldn't be here if I didn't want to."

And then he closed the gap, caressing his lips just barely against hers, before thrusting himself into her open mouth, an obvious level of hungry desperation in the way he devoured her whole. He'd wanted this—wanted to taste her again ever since she stood unexpectedly in front of him. Sucking the entirety of her bottom lip into his mouth, she let out a moan. That glorious, soft, perfect, bit of flesh fit entirely into his mouth. His tongue danced along the length of it, a deep grunt coming from his throat as she melted further in his arms.

Spencer’s hands grabbed her hard by the hips as he tugged her into his body so tight she could feel his arousal pressing into her. She gasped in surprise, and he took the moment to lunge deeper into her mouth, feverishly in a flurry of tongue and teeth, his mouth only riling her further. The feeling of his tongue colliding against hers sent her into a nose dive of indescribable sensation. The longer the kiss lasted, the hotter she felt, and the warmer her skin got. 

She breathed out another moan, fingers carding through the lengthier parts of his hair. The more his mouth moved against hers, the harder it was becoming to hold back. She was pouncing on him, kissing him back with as much fervor, and slightly let out a whimper when he pulled back. His mouth broke from hers, slipping down to place kisses along her jawline. She bit her lip, head tilting back just as he muttered, "Tell me how you want to be touched."

The request had her pulling back, staring at him in disbelief. "What?"

"What you said last night..." He explained, a sudden insecurity weighing in his eyes. "It got to my head."

Mouth opening and closing, she stared at him in stunned silence. Then the realization hit her on what he was implying. "I said that out of the heat of the moment," she assured him. "I was simply mad at you."

Although the way she was trying to avoid his gaze told him otherwise. "I'm a profiler. I can tell if you're lying."

She couldn't stop the amused laugh slipping through her lips. "Look," she started, slightly tugging his hair. "It wasn't that you were bad. But you could've been, I don't know—better, perhaps?"

"You do know how to bruise a man's ego," he muttered, more to himself than to her. He let out a sigh as she stared at him in amusement. "Let me be honest with you, I don't have that much experience with women, but..." he trailed off, pressing a soft kiss at the corner of her lips. "I do want to know how you want to be touched."

She could feel her amusement slipping away as she struggled to wrap her mind around what was happening, breath coming in short, her body filled with a warmth that wasn't just from her growing arousal. "You're being serious, aren't you?"

"Very." His nose intentionally bumped against hers this time, the hand on her lower back somehow holding her tighter to him. “I have three bachelor's degrees and completed three doctorate programs, learning and excelling in new subjects is engraved deep in my blood."

She playfully shoved him. "Show off."

He simply smiled, slightly pulling away. His head turned just a fraction towards her, hands sliding along her hips. “Tell me how I can be better for you.”

She stared at him, completely enthralled with the way his eyes lingered across her face—her eyes, her nose, her mouth. This was dangerous, letting herself fall deeper into this lust, but somehow it felt right. It felt incredibly right to feel his arms around her. It felt perfectly right as she snaked her arms behind her, grabbed onto his hand, and pulled him deeper into her home.

Her mind was too clouded with a desire to think clearly, and even when a little voice at the back of her head reminded her how wrong getting tangled with an authority in this situation was, she simply decided not to listen. Instead, she guided him toward her living room and walked him over to the single-seated sofa before placing her hands on his chest.

Spencer’s brows drew together, a small crease forming between them. She gently pushed him back, the back of his legs hitting the furniture as he settled himself between the soft cushions. He sat there, staring expectantly at her standing before him. Ignoring any self-conscious thoughts, she gripped the bottom of her blouse and swiftly pulled it over her head.

His eyes went wide. “What are you doing?"

A coy smile stretched across her mouth as she undid her pants, noticing the way he is eyes were focused on every little move she made. His question was left unanswered as she slipped off her jeans, kicking them off as they finally slid down her legs. Then she unclasped her bra and his mouth opened, eyes narrowing as his head tilted back, his tongue slowly sweeping along his bottom lip. He instinctively reached out, his calloused pads brushed her bare skin and a shudder ran down her spine before she slipped away from his touch.

He groaned a moment later. “Where are you going?”

She shook her head, still not answering him. She then turned around with her back facing him, and because she found pleasure in the way his eyes glazed every time she teased him, her fingers grabbed the band of her underwear, slowly sliding it down her legs. He let out a strained whimper as the evidence of her slick arousal clung onto the fabric, and it took a lot of self-control for him to stay still.

And when she finally turned around, he took in the sight of her naked form standing before him. She was as beautiful as he remembered, so perfectly made—full breasts, hips, thighs—the body of a woman as a woman was meant to be. But before he could devour her naked flesh with his eyes, she took a step back before sinking herself onto the longer couch, a wicked smile playing on her lips.

There was something compelling being the one in charge, even when she seemed to be the only one naked, wearing nothing but a taunting smile while he sat there still in the confinement of his vest. Good lord—that vest. It was doing things to her. The vest. The hair. That look. The way he was watching her wrecked her and now she was wondering how much longer she could put on a show until he came undone.

"I'm not going to tell you how I want to be touched.” Her sultry voice rang in his ears as she leaned back, her knees falling apart. And when he thought she couldn’t drive him more insane than he already was, her fingers slipped between her legs painfully slow. Goosebumps rose along his skin, a shudder of anticipation running down his body.

“I think I might have to show you."

He let out a strangled sigh.

She was going to be the death of him.

>> NEXT PART

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taglist

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PLEASE READ: If any of you asked me to be added and you’re not on the list OR you want to be added in the future, please comment on this post so I could see it. But make sure your blog can be searched by anyone or I can’t tag you. Thank you :)

[celestialtarot11]

Song Lyric Messages 🤍🌹💌

Hi friends! 💘🌹 I thought I’d switch it up a little and channel you some song lyrics! This can be any message you need to hear 💗🌟 enjoy, feel free to like, comment and reblog! I’m loving this red theme.

Pile 1:

• 🥀💌 “Feelings, so deep in my feelings. No, this ain’t really like me. Can’t control my anxiety. When I’m with you I can’t breathe. Boy, you do something to me. Ooh, I’ll never get over you until I find something new.” -Boo’d up by Ella Mai.

If you’ve been going through a breakup, separation or no contact situation, it’s been bothering you deeply. You may try to repress how you feel, but it keeps coming up, and your resistance could bring more harm than good. Your message is it’s okay to feel what you need to feel through the experience, anxiety will pass too. It’s okay to miss someone whether that was a friend too, it doesn’t necessarily need to be romantic here. Prioritize yourself, your experience, and journal about how it affected you. Give yourself a voice and watch yourself bloom 🌹🤍

💌 Some journal prompts 💌

• How did this experience affect me?

• How did I react to the experience?

• What is changing in my life and how do I feel about it?

Pile 2:

• 🥀💌 “You make me dance, bring me up, bring me down, play it sweet. Make me move like a freak, Mr. Saxobeat.” -Mr. Saxobeat By Alexandra Stan.

It’s a wonderful time for manifesting! Now, if you don’t know this song…😤 we’re gonna have some problems. But back to the main point, now is a wonderful time to manifest and celebrate! Either something new is coming into your life, or you’ve reached a point of self actualization that is setting you free. You feel so free, happy and excited. Maybe someone new is coming in, or has. Or you are manifesting someone. Here’s a wonderful sign whatever it is, is coming! Allow yourself to receive. If you’ve been pondering on what to manifest, here are some journal prompts:

💌 Some journal prompts 💌

• “Where does my heart want me to go next?”

• “If I could truly have everything I desired what would it be?”

• “What would happen if I manifested it? What would my life look like then?”

Pile 3:

• 🥀💌 “Just let my love, just let my love adorn you. Please baby, yeah. You gotta know, you gotta know. Know that I adore you. Yeah baby.” -Adorn by Miguel

This could be a message from a person directly! They want to tell you how much they adore you, and love you for who you are. They want to tell you how much they’ve been desiring to talk to you, and tell you how they feel deep down. I saw the knight of cups in my vision, so this person feels for you and wants to make a sweet advancement 🌟🥂 that is a card or courtship! If not a person, your inner child wants to let you know they adore you for all you do, and they admire your resilience, strength and ability to love. That’s all they ever wanted, and you giving them that is something they truly appreciate.

💌 Some extra messages 💌

• December may be important.

• They are ready to listen.

• Progress is being made.

Pile 2:

• 🥀💌 “Baby while we’re young. I think we should do something crazy. Like say fuck everyone, and just run away from the daily routine. Yeah, you know what I mean.” -While We’re Young by Jhené Aiko.

It’s important to spend your time focusing on the present moment. Your inner child wants to feel free, happy, and passionate about where they are going next. Take a leap of faith, let life play out as it’s meant to. You are meant to be here now. What would happen if you let it happen to you? Instead of forcing, pushing and moving, sit back and breathe. You may be missing out the more you take control. And maybe it’s time to observe, and let it be 🌟💖

💌 Some journal prompts 💌

• Where can I let go a little more today?

• What do I think will happen if I went with the flow?

• What message does my favorite self have for me?

Pile 5:

• 🥀💌 “That’s the way everyday goes. Every time we’ve no control. If the sky is pink and white, if the ground is black and yellow, it’s the same way you showed me. Nod my head, don’t close my eyes.” -Pink + White by Frank Ocean.

Foster more security and stability in yourself. All is well, all is okay. The moment that exists now is for you. If you’ve been bored of your routine do something sporadic, different and spontaneous. You are seeing clearly, maybe there was a lot of truths you couldn’t face in the past, and now it’s helping you understand more. There are many layers to what we don’t see at first, when we peel it back, then we understand. It’s like you’ve reached a major point of understanding a situation, person or yourself. Or life in general. Its happening to realign you with where you’re meant to be 💗🧘‍♀️

💌 Some journal prompts 💌

• What am I seeing clearly that I didn’t before?

• Where can this perspective take me?

• Which perspective empowers me?

Pile 6:

• 🥀💌 “Baby you’re the baddest, baby you’re the baddest girl. Nobody else matters, nobody else matters girl.“ -Les by Childish Gambino.

Confidence and empowerment is your theme for December. It’s time to step up and realize your worth. If you’ve been working on yourself it’s to help you build your self esteem, and confidence in taking the next step. Create your own intentions, plant your own seed, let you have your own experience. There is enough space for you to begin now, move forward self assured and confident 💗🥂

💌 Some journal prompts 💌

• What area of my life do I want to focus on next?

• What is this area of life requiring of me?

• Where do I need to mature and develop better skills?

Paid Readings 🌹💖

Distance Energy Healing Services 🌙🌃

[enhaheeseung]

Come back to me - L.HS

Pairing: heeseung X fem reader!

Warnings: angst, crying, divorce, heartbreak.

WC: 1,571k

Part four

“Okay,” heeseung sighed as he straightened his tie, looking at himself in the mirror one last time before heading out for work.

Today was the day he was going to give you the divorce papers and finally come to terms with everything for real this time, no talking to himself, no more holding onto pictures, no pretending that you were still there.

Nothing.

He packed up his briefcase and put the papers in a separate file. He was gonna drop them off to you after work. Hopefully, you were home cause he just wanted to see you one last time while he was still officially your husband and you were his wife.

He went in early so he could keep his mind occupied with something other than you.

For the first four hours of his work shift, it worked, but as the clock struck closer to 5, his whole entire body was filled with nervousness and anxiety.

The meeting he had would have definitely gone better if he wasn’t sweating and stuttering the whole way through it, but he hopes he was able to make a good enough impression so he could do future business with them.

After that meeting, though he knew he wouldn’t be able to carry himself as confidently as he once used to, the divorce was getting to him in the worst way possible, just normal daily tasks he found difficult to complete the passion he had for work no longer there and don’t even get him started on his home life.

He prays that you are taking things better than he is.

He was all packed up and ready to go an hour before his shift ended cause as soon as it was go time, he wanted to bolt out of that building as soon as possible so he could see you after all this time.

The messed up part about this all was that he convinced himself that he was just going to give you the papers so you could finalize the divorce, but somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew he was just using it as an opportunity to see you.

Although he didn’t dwell on it, he just concluded he was killing two birds with one stone and went ahead with his original plan.

“Me, you jay bar?” Jake waltzed into Heeseung’s office, inviting him out for a drink cause it was the weekend.

“Can’t I have some business to tend to?” he politely declined.

Jake knew this could be taken as rude, but he was curious, so he went along and asked it anyway. “So are you really, you know… getting a divorce?”

Heeseung merely nods his head, the faint outline of a smile on his lips as he gathers his belongings.

Jake stands there stunned, mouth opening and closing to try and say something comforting, but nothing comes out. He really thought you guys might have worked things out, given Heeseung’s seemingly good mood lately, but apparently not. “I’m sorry. I thought things were better 'cause you seemed happy,” he trails off.

“I understand,” he sighs, throwing his suit jacket over his shoulder. “But I have a job, I have a life, and it’d be very unprofessional for me to show up depressed and sad all the time so this,” he points to his face, pretending to smile. “Is what you get?” the fake smile quickly drops from his face, returning to a frown as he turns off the office lights and walks past his friend. “Forget the bar. It’ll always be there. She won’t.” he pats Jake on his arm before leaving the office and heading straight for your new home.

-

Heeseung hadn’t felt this nervous since your guy's wedding. He was sitting out in his car for at least five minutes, pondering on what he should do.

Ultimately, he unbuckled his belt, grabbing the folder from his suitcase, and walked up to the steps, knocking softly on the door. The hopeful part of him wishes that you’d answer, but the guilty part wishes that Sunghoon would answer instead.

He took a deep breath, tittering back and forth on his feet anxiously. Not even a minute later, there you were, standing in front of him, leaving him completely speechless, just like you did when he saw you walking down the aisle on your wedding day.

You stare back at him just as speechless after seeing your husband for the first time in weeks.

He was undeniably handsome, his work shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows, his black slacks framing his lean build perfectly, and his hair always styled to perfection like always when he went to work.

But past it all, he was still the man who broke you down over the time span of 8 months, and no matter how handsome he looked, it still wasn’t enough to ignore all the horrible things he did to you. “What do you want?”

He’s finally knocked out of his daze when he hears your voice for the first time in so long. “H-hi y-y-y/n I Uhh I just wanted t-to.” he took a deep breath, closing his eyes and trying to calm himself down just a little bit. “These.” he reached for the folder he was holding under his arm and handed it to you. “They’re all signed and ready to go, so yeah,” he says quietly, not an ounce of confidence coming from him. His whole demeanor looked completely different from the heeseung you’ve known for the last couple of months.

You just took the folder from his hands without saying a word.

“Sorry it took so long to sign. I was just busy at work and all,” he told a little white lie as you nodded, really not caring about why it took him so long. All that mattered was that they were signed, and you could finally detach yourself from him. “I know you gave it back, but it’s yours, so you keep it, sell it, get rid of it.” he lists out a bunch of options as he gives you back your wedding ring. “Personally, I’d sell it,” he jokes, but it’s not funny, and he knows that, but he’s just saying whatever at this point, trying to stall and stay with you just a little longer cause after all this was the final goodbye after this there was a high chance he wouldn’t even ever see you again.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” you reply.

When he sees you’re not even interested in giving him the time of day, he just gives up and tucks his hands in his pockets. “I don’t know what to say,” he whispers shakily. “I never prepared for a day like this. Never thought I’d ever be saying goodbye to you.”

You really wish he’d just stop talking and go. This was already hard enough, and to hear him saying things like this just made it harder.

“You know what I did prepare for, though, having you in my life until the day I die, having a family watching our children grow together, you know, just everything we always talked about.” he sighs and looks down at his feet feeling so small and pathetic in your presence. “But that’s all gone now 'cause I fucked it up” he lifts his head up, showing you the tears in his eyes, and you use all your strength to hold in your emotions. It took everything in you not to let your tears fall cause he didn’t deserve your tears, let alone your sympathy. “I’m sorry,” his voice cracked even though he tried so hard to fight it. “And I know that’s not enough.” he swallows the lump in his throat, nodding to himself. “I’m not asking you to take me back even though I want nothing more in the world than to call you mine again. All I’m asking is for you to please forgive me, y/n. I’m so so sorry for everything I put you through. I’m sorry for breaking my promises, I’m sorry for hurting you, and I’m sorry for letting you down.” he buried his face in his hands, unable to look at you any longer. He wipes away his tears, his shoulders rising and falling with every deep breath he takes, attempting to calm his thumping heart.

You don’t even know how you managed to keep it together seeing him so weak and hurt, but somehow you did. And deep down, you really wanted to accept his apology, but you just couldn’t. The things he said and did were far too hurtful for you to reconcile.

So you stayed silent, watching all the life and hope leave his eyes the longer you went without giving him an answer. “Wow,” he chuckles to himself, wiping away more tears. “I even found a way to fuck this up, too,” he bites on his lip, another shaky breath escaping his dry lips. “I’m sorry for disturbing you.” he cleared his throat, gathering himself for a moment before saying those dreaded words that he knew he’d have to say sooner than later. “Goodbye, y/n.” he turned around, heading back to his car in the rain as you shut the door.

You opened the folder, looking at his signature, tracing over it with your thumb, and telling yourself you were happy with your decision not to go back to him.

Thanks for reading likes comments and reblogs are always appreciated sorry for any typos or errors I hope you all have a good day/night♥️

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[sluttysanemi]

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ — Love's First Embrace

Kimetsu Gakuen!Genya Shinazugawa x AFAB!Reader

c/w: fluff .. ? , kissy kissy smoochy smoochy, genya being bad w girls LOL

a/n: i often ponder at night abt a lot of things. when i'm alone in my room, w barely any light source, most of my ideas spring to mind (bar bliss, upcoming cowboy sanemi fic, etc). i was thinking abt genya's character as a whole n i wonder if he became overly abrasive to his peers because of his childhood emotional neglect whilst sanemi had spent his days out. maybe he's attempting to mirror his brother? also i got tested 4 drugs yesterday LOL

It was intended to be quick. He'd stop by your house for a quick browse, then return home. As it has always been.

You asked him to stay. Go over a few of the equations on the provided homework together. You both had been struggling... It would help.

Your bodies are pressed meticulously, his face flushed and embarrassed. There’s a distant sensation of tension within the air, almost unsettling. Your leg against his only amplifies it. His gaze is constantly shifting between you to the text, repeating.

You gaze at the numerous diagrams, scrutinizing each equation… Yet he can’t focus. He is looking at you. Studying your hair and the scent of your fragrance. He’s in thought. As he clenches to the material of his uniform, he can feel sweat trickling across his palm.

Nevertheless, he attempts to refocus on his work. Swallowing his build up of nerves swelled within his throat, he reaches the corner tab and moves to flip to the subsequent page. If only you hadn't followed. Your fingers graze… and you're so soft.

He stiffens. His cheeks flush brightly, and he swiftly focuses on his surroundings. Distracting. Studying the flooring patterns.

You understand how he behaves. You thought it endearing. You rub your thumb over the back of his hand and you smile warmly. You’re always so gentle. Yet he only worsens. He feels his heart pulsing violently against his chest. Has he always been so excessively shy with you?

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝

It is growing late, as shown by a full moon adorned ominously over the window. Genya had no sense of time. His sole sense of eternity was the heavy twang of his heart, which hung above his ears. 

He offers to go home. To behave politely and not extend his stay. Then you lay your hand over his and tell him it's dark. Not safe. 

You insist that your father could drive him home, once he returns, so he can instead stay with you for the while. He smiles sheepishly and nods. You're phenomenal…

The remainder is more of a blur. Homework sheets are set aside as you propose a movie. You're seated near again, nevertheless laid a painful separation. Only your fingers subtly grace, a delicate contact.

There is a graphic movie playing on the screen. He doesn't seem to be paying attention. His mind is instead rotating laps, attempting to discern his situation. He can feel his bodily heat rushing to his cheeks. 

He attempts to not flinch at any movement as he feels the tremendous nerves coursing through his veins. 

He is experiencing difficulty adjusting with reality. This environment is truly... new to him. He can not grasp his strong sentiments for you.

The room is dim. The only sources of light were the faintly lit sky and the television, which flashed ceaselessly.

Genya's mind is racing, as he ponders on what you could be thinking about. 

“You… like this movie don’t you?”, you ask abruptly, peering towards him. 

His eyes flicker to you. “Yeah… I do.”, Genya answers blankly. His concentration shifted. He senses the immense tension, which is almost palpable. Are we awaiting for something? 

You glance at him so sweetly and gently. He feels every movement in his body.

Your fingers grace over his purposefully. “Maybe I should’ve picked something else?”, you offer again. 

He swallows his anxiety once more, your words pour into his impulses. “No… no, this is fine.” His heart is strumming so vigorously it hurts. Your fingers slowly trail together, interlinking. Everything feels still. 

You glance at him, almost expectantly. Your cheeks flame faintly. “Y’know… my mum n’ dad… they really like you.”, you would mention briefly. 

Your remarks prompted his heart to skip an additional beat. Your combined cheeks are growing warm with every moment. He blinks, gathering his thoughts.

“Y-yeah… I kind of noticed.”, his breathing is becoming heavier. He can feel his palm become increasingly damp.

You beam kindly. “You’re really cool, Genya.”, you whisper. 

Your tone is tearing at him. His breathing grows further shallower as our attached fingers tighten. In a moment of bravery, and against his better judgment, he slips a retort. 

“You’re pretty cool too…”

You subtly lean closer, watching him. “Yeah?”, she spoke. 

His eyes are riveted to yours, and his pulse contracts violently. Your words cause thrills along his spine. The strong atmosphere has him feel as if he's to implode.

He's following; shifting himself closer. You eventually meet in the middle, your foreheads brushing to each other and your noses lightly grazing. He can feel your breaths overlapping.

“Pretty cool… is an understatement.” 

You cup his cheek and snicker softly. “Dumbass…”, You'd teased before bridging the distance. As you close your eyes, your lips gently meet to his.

Your lips had interlocked, and he felt the oxygen drain from his very lungs. Your lips are so soft, almost silk-like. This is what he had been wishing for so long.

Your hands are clasped and slide smoothly in time with your breathing.

His mind is entirely blank, the world around him could collapse, and he'd still be kissing this girl, this stunning girl...

Nothing mattered to him at that moment. Nor the screen or school. Every inch of his heart longed for more of you. He wanted you to last forever.

You were his every wish.

[atinycafe]

hello can i request "feeling so lonely that they have to call their lover/friend, just to get a sense and reminder that they're still there" and the one underneath it for poly!ateez? thank you, i love the way you write <3

pairing: poly!ceo!ateez x hybrid!reader (focus on mingi, san and joong) prompt: "feeling so lonely that they have to call their lover/friend, just to get a sense and reminder that they're still there" + "trying and failing to hold back their tears as they do so" includes: established relationship, implicit mention of reader having slight separation anxiety, use of "daddy" once but it's not used sexually. word count: 1.4k author's note: thank you so much omg ilysm, that makes me so happy!! hope you have a nice day/night (ꈍᴗꈍ)ε｀*) how + what to request? + masterlist

it's been tough. like, seriously tough. your cat ears perk up as your hand reaches for the phone resting on the kitchen counter.

you've been attempting to be a really good kitty, but it's just not working out. your tail sways back and forth behind you. owners!ateez have left you all alone at home for the first time. normally, when they stepped out, at least one of them would stay with you, cradling you in their arms. but this time, luck wasn't on your side. yeosang rained apologies upon your hair, muttering about a super crucial meeting regarding some important business at their company.

you totally get it. your humans are busy men. but you can't shake off the uneasiness that settles in your chest, making it tighten beneath jongho's shirt.

you make up your mind to give them a call. it's alright, you reassure yourself, confident that they won't be bothered. you're simply going to ring them up to find out when they'll be back. you can handle it.

you grab the phone and launch the calling app, pondering over whom to dial. your gaze lingers on the mere eight saved numbers, and you allow your index finger to hover over each one thoughtfully, contemplating their potential responses. who among them would be the least peeved at being disturbed during a meeting?

all of them are nice, but you're aware that a few of them tend to get super absorbed in their work. you nibble on your lower lip, feeling your fangs gently puncture tiny holes into it, recalling seonghwa's gentle admonishment about this habit. his thumb would always come to rescue, freeing your lip from between your teeth, as you taste the metallic tang on your tongue. releasing your lip, you muster the courage and press the number of your choice.

you lift the phone to your ear and patiently await the sound of the ringing tone.

the person on the other end answers promptly, causing your breath to catch in your throat.

"sorry, i have to take this call, i'll be right back you can go on without me, yunho, fill me in on what i missed once the meeting's done," you hear mingi's gravelly voice, and your heart tightens at the realization that he didn't even wait to find a private moment to answer the phone.

"hey baby, everything alright?" you hear a door close, muffling mingi's words slightly, but it doesn't hinder the tears welling up in your eyes.

you part your lips, intending to ask the question you've been mustering the courage to pose for the past hour, but instead, a choked-up sob escapes from your throat.

"baby?" this time, mingi's voice takes on a breathy tone, and you can hear him swallow hard. "what's going on, kitty? what's wrong?"

you attempt to respond, but it feels like something is lodged in your throat, causing only coughs to escape, while more tears stream down your face.

"shh, it's okay, kitten. just take a breather," his deep voice resonates through the phone. "in and out, inhale, exhale. yeah, just like that. good girl." you can hear the smile in his voice as you attempt to follow his instructions, albeit shakily.

"are you okay now, kitty? can you tell me what's wrong?" he finally asks, as he senses your breath evening out.

"miss you," you simply answer, while rubbing at your eyes. it's a simple phrase, just two words, but they manage to convey your feelings as you hear mingi hum in response.

"i'll tell the boys to wrap up the meeting. we'll be there in 20. is that okay with you, baby?" mingi assures, offering a solution to your longing.

no, it's not. twenty minutes feels far too long, and before you can concoct a convincing enough lie to spare him any annoyance, mingi interrupts your train of thought.

"actually, baby, we'll be there in 10 minutes. we'll ditch the chauffeur and have wooyoung drive. in the meantime, go to the closets and grab whatever clothes you want," he croons, waiting for a genuine response this time.

"no, hongjoong's gonna be mad," you shake your head, even though mingi can't see you. clutching the phone tighter in your hand, you recall hongjoong's expression when you had raided his closet, piling up all his expensive clothes on your bed, yearning for his scent. he had been kind, explaining gently that you couldn't do that, but you couldn't ignore the visible veins that had surfaced on his forehead upon discovering his favorite balmain suit buried beneath the covers.

"no, he won't, and even if he is, i'll tell him i gave you permission, okay?" mingi reassures, determined to ease your worries about hongjoong's potential reaction.

"okay," you reply softly, your voice carrying a mix of relief and trust in his words.

"i'll hang up then. we'll be there soon enough," mingi confirms, the anticipation evident in his voice.

"okay," you respond once more.

"love you?" mingi asks in a peculiar manner, and you understand that he's subtly requesting to hear you say "i love you." it strikes you as odd, since you never fail to reciprocate those three words.

"love you," you respond, and before hanging up, you hear a playful "mwah" followed by the disconnection of the call.

you swiftly release the phone without a second thought and make your way through each room, collecting a piece of clothing from each of the boys. as you enter hongjoong's room, you pause in front of his wide-open closet. your gaze fixates on the velvety texture of his renowned black and white balmain suit, but you opt against taking it after catching a faint trace of his scent, faded from the length of time it had remained unworn. instead, you choose to retrieve one of his cozy hoodies, adding it to the growing pile in your hands.

you make your way back to your room, tossing all the clothes onto your bed. following suit, you bounce onto the soft surface, sliding yourself under the covers. taking the gathered clothes, you form them into a ball and press it against your face, inhaling deeply. the intertwined scents of your beloved humans instantly envelop you, bringing a profound sense of tranquility.

without even realizing it, you drift off to sleep, your ears being the only things peeking out from beneath the cozy pink covers.

you gradually awaken to the sensation of gentle kisses being planted on your nose. you open your eyes slightly, only to be greeted by san's blond bangs. before you can even process his presence in your bed, you feel the comforting touch of another pair of cold hands softly scratching the base of your ears. a purr instinctively emanates from your chest, and san smiles against your pulse, relishing the soothing vibrations against his own skin, a sensation he always adores.

you manage to turn, your eyes half-closed as the light filters in, and they settle on hongjoong's gentle smile. he's still dressed in a suit, and you blush at the sight. you adore him in sweatpants and oversized shirts, but your heart can't help but flutter faster in his presence.

you hear san chuckle, his head still nestled in your neck.

"kitty, your heart's beating so fast. happy to see daddy?" he mumbles, strong hands intertwining around your waist, his palm coming to rest on your chest, feeling the gentle thud of your heart.

hongjoong's smile widens as you glance away, unable to meet his gaze due to the embarrassment. he bends down slightly, his hand reaching to gently hold your cheeks. you revel in the coolness of his touch, appreciating how his hands always seem to be refreshingly cold.

"i'm happy to see you too, kitten. i missed you so much, couldn't stop thinking about you during that boring meeting," he whispers in the quiet room. you feel san nod against you, his arms tightening around you, and he murmurs a "me too."

"where are the others?" you inquire, noticing the absence of their hands on your body, causing a slight twitch in your eyebrows.

"in the shower, they're coming soon" hongjoong answers, his smile never leaving his face as he looks down at you. you nod in response, managing to free one hand from san's grasp, reaching out for hongjoong, and the eldest boy takes your hand. he sits down next to you, his eyes never wavering from your gaze as he drops a soft kiss to your forehead.

and soon enough you feel the thumping sounds of footsteps in the hallways, approaching your door. the boys enter to find you sandwiched between san and a shirtless hongjoong, his vest and dress shirt long forgotten on the heated floor of your room.

[branches-of-time]

The House That Built Me

“Figured you’d either still be at the tavern, or were already home wondering where I was.”

He smiles at you, soft, before looking away. “I was at the tavern most of the day, like I planned this morning. But… something didn’t feel right. I wasn’t really… giving it my all, and I think the patrons could tell.”

You frown. “What didn’t feel right? Are you okay?”

“Oh, I’m fine, Windblume. I’m just fine.”

You aren’t convinced. “Then, uh… do you feel like sharing what isn’t fine?”

His gaze drops to the dark sea below. “I think you know what it is, actually.”

Cryptic as ever, you take a moment to ponder what he might mean. He takes the silence as an opportunity to elaborate. “I never really wonder where you are, you know?"

~~~~~~~

Inazuma, all raging storms and war-torn, is calling your name. Shamefully, you find yourself running north instead, searching for something, anything to fill this home-shaped void in your heart.

Maybe, just maybe, you’ll come to find that home is a person, more than a place.

Pairing: Venti x Reader - Established Relationship, GN!Reader

Word Count: 11,033

Contains: [angst (with a happy ending)] [crying] [cuddling] [emotional hurt/comfort] [lack of communication] [loneliness] [memories] [not canon compliant] [pet death] [Reader & Venti are both adults] [Reader is not Traveler but they essentially take their place in the game's plot] [self-deprecating reader] [separation anxiety] [set prior to Version 2.0] [songfic]

A/Ns: This is a songfic! Title and verses written throughout the fic are from the song- "The House That Built Me" by Miranda Lambert.

Lastly, some context- Reader is a Riftwolf-Human hybrid, can manipulate all seven elements but has an affinity for Geo.

I know they say you can't go home again.

Sand, warmed by the afternoon sun, swells between your spread fingers as you press your hands down into the ground at your sides. Summoning a modicum of Geo elemental energy, your hands meet no resistance as they sink into the compacted grains like a hot knife through butter. You drop your raised shoulders and let your hands bury several inches into the beach until the sand surrounding them is cool, untouched by the heat of the day.

Dismissing the energy you’d been using to repel it, you allow the ground to resist you again. You note the weight of the sand as it presses down on the backs of your hands, and the firm bed of grains packed beneath your palms. You shut your eyes and flex your fingers slightly, focusing on the soft grit of Falcon Coast as it surrounds your hands in its weighted embrace.

Breathing a heavy sigh, you reopen your eyes, dropping your head and cursing the earth beneath you. This attempt at grounding yourself is doing little to ease the knot in your stomach, nor the tightness in your chest. Looking up and out across the expanse of ocean before you, the sight of Musk Reef looming in the distance doesn’t help either. You refuse to allow your gaze to drift any further south.

You begin to ask yourself what you’re even doing here, and why you thought this was a good idea. You’re no stranger to fleeing to Mondstadt whenever the world overwhelms you, but this specific beach perhaps wasn’t the wisest choice. Certainly not when the very thing you’re running from is the sea.

You hadn’t put much thought into where to go, you just knew you wanted to go home. Materializing at the waypoint east of Windrise was simply instinctual. Though, when you arrived, you didn’t turn and head north like you had so many times before. No, you took a running jump off the cliff below, gliding south and landing on the coast.

Sitting here now though, hands buried in the same sand you first washed up on after clawing your way out of the abyss… it’s not as comforting of a spot as you thought it might be. You don’t feel grounded at all, caught up between memories of the past and fears of the future.

Tugging your hands out of the sand with a frustrated huff, you turn your head to glance behind you at the cliff to the north.

…Maybe you should’ve gone that way instead. Maybe you should go home.

 I just had to come back one last time.

Materializing at the earlier waypoint once again, you pause to collect yourself for a moment. Making frequent use of the waypoints, especially in your current state, isn’t very wise. Then again, you aren’t in a very wise state. Taking a deep breath to dispel the dizziness, you let the warm breeze caress your cheeks. Looking around from your current vantage point, you find yourself grateful for the lack of people in the area. Even Chloris is currently nowhere to be found.

Well, at least you can think in peace. Jumping down from the crumbling ruin, you steady yourself against an archway, narrowly avoiding crushing a small patch of lamp grass. …Perhaps you should’ve taken another moment to collect yourself. Perhaps you shouldn’t be wandering through the wilds all on your own, in such a state.

You scoff at the latter thought. This is Mondstadt, and you’re… you. What’s the worst that could happen?

Pushing aside the thought that more alone time may not be what you need right now, you think yourself through your predicament once again as you set off on a walk.

-

You’d been reluctant to leave Mondstadt and set out for Liyue, despite knowing that you’d get no further answers to your myriad of questions here. Not to mention the nagging, relentless tug of fate, pulling you away from the nation you’d come to call home. You knew full and well that you’d have to leave. You’d find no peace in an attempt to ignore the call, and settle here indefinitely.

Still, that didn’t stop you from milking your time here as much as possible. You’d gotten to a first name basis with nearly every soul in the city by the time you ran out of tasks to busy yourself with. Gained quite the notable reputation for yourself in the process too, although that hadn’t been your goal. You truly just didn’t want to leave.

You’d trekked over every hill, passed through every valley, climbed to every peak and turned over every stone and leaf along your way. You explored the nation’s ruins, deciphered inscriptions half faded into their stone, and felled every field till- …ruin guard that stood in your way. You’d braved the frozen peaks of Dragonspine, and gained a newfound appreciation for the Pyro element in the process.

You stood atop the celestial nail, looking out through the blizzard and over the expanse of land to the southwest.

The vast, foreign land that laid before you scared you more than the journey to the top of the nail had.

After all, you didn’t fear falling. The wind at your back would surely catch you, you had no doubt.

Flecks of Cryo stung, colliding with the flushed, exposed skin of your face. You closed your eyes, balance wavering slightly as a result. A small arm was quick to wrap itself around your waist.

No, you didn’t fear falling. You feared leaving.

You leaned into the safety of your Archon’s hold, their concerned voice perfectly audible in spite of the blizzard winds surrounding you. “Are you alright? Do you need to get down?”

You feared leaving him.

-

Leaves from the end of a tree branch brush against your perked ears, pulling you back into the present. Shaking your head and drawing your ears down on instinct, you look around and realize your muscle memory has carried you the rest of the way home. Tucked away against a small cliff south of the Thousand Winds Temple, stands an even smaller cottage, forgotten to time. An Anemo Samachurl paces in circles in the yard, and its Geo counterpart sits on the old stone stairs leading into the home.

Ma'am, I know you don't know me from Adam.

The Geo Samachurl turns to look at you, and you give it a small wave in acknowledgement. Its attention lingers on you for only a moment longer, before turning back to continue watching its Anemo companion instead. A smile plays on your lips, tight and bittersweet.

You make no move to continue approaching, instead opting to back up a few paces and lean against a nearby tree, observing.

They can sense enough of your shared origins, or- maybe it’s the lingering abyssal energy on you… regardless, they can sense something on you that they recognize. Nothing specific, but something familiar enough that they feel no need to take up arms upon the mere sight of you. In all honesty, you feel the same. Their presence here doesn’t pose any genuine threat, so you’re content to leave them be.

In the many months that have passed since Venti and you moved out of this place, it’s become a haven for others. Whether it be traveling adventurers seeking shelter for a night, wildlife seeking refuge from a passing storm beneath the awning, or even your old Khaenri’ahn kin seeking a place to camp, the cottage has served many.

The both of you have kept a distant eye on the place since your departure. Though, Venti has found himself remaining more distant than you since these Samachurls have set up camp. While your presence doesn’t ring any alarm bells for them, the same cannot be said for Venti. While he holds no ill intent toward them either, something about the aura he emits sets them instinctively on edge.

You can hardly blame them. You’d raised your hackles and bared your teeth at the bard, defensive upon your first encounter as well. Looking back, he was hardly posing any threat then either, but at the time, you viewed everyone and everything as a potential enemy. After all, you’d just escaped the abyss and been tossed to the shore of Falcon Coast by the waves, your weaker control over Cryo failing you halfway across your attempt at an ice bridge. Waking up on hot sand to find a humanoid being with an unsettling gaze emanating a suspiciously divine aura above you was more than enough to kick your fight or flight into gear.

You attempted both, in that order. You immediately dug your hands into the sand and threw fistfuls of it at the stranger, successfully disorienting them and giving you an opening to flee. With nothing but ocean to the east, you bolted west, and then north, headed for higher ground intent on gaining an advantage.

Looking back now, you know nothing could’ve stopped Venti if he’d truly wanted to catch you. At the time, though, you felt pretty confident in having outrun him. By the time you felt like you’d lost him, you found yourself also lost amidst trees, the uneven terrain obscuring your sense of direction. So- tired, thirsty, hungry, scared, and confused- you dropped from a run to a walk. Pressing forward in the direction you’d run in, you kept your ears at attention to catch any threat before it could catch you.

-

The Anemo Samachurl breaks from its quiet chanting and pacing, its sudden cry pulling your focus from the past. From the way it points and takes off in a run, and the way its Geo counterpart rises to follow behind, you assume it must have seen something in the woods that caught its attention. You see nor sense nothing of note, and dismiss the likely false alarm. Probably just wildlife, or perhaps a Dendro slime looking to play. As the two little shamans run off into the trees, you take advantage of the vacancy they leave behind.

But these handprints on the front steps are mine.

You figure you’ve got enough time for a quick visit before they return. Besides, the worst that’ll happen if they do catch you in their “camp” will be a few disgruntled spells cast toward you as you hightail it out of there. It’ll be fine.

Approaching the trio of old stone steps that lead to the front door, your gaze catches on two handprints engraved into the highest stair. Memories begin to surface.

-

Sitting on the stairs with your back pressed to the door, you found yourself growing frustrated with the green-clad individual in your yard. Well, perched in one of the trees in your yard, to be precise.

You’d taken up residence in this old run-down cottage once it seemed that no one else had been occupying it. The first few days had been blessedly peaceful, it seemed the area was rather devoid of other life. Well, threatening life, at least. There were plenty of plants and animals, plus a little pond close by, providing far more sustenance than you’d grown used to surviving on. You figured it was as good of a place as any to try and sort out your next move. You hadn’t put much thought into what you’d do once you escaped, after all. You found yourself feeling… lost. After charging ahead with your focus locked on a single goal for so damn long… you didn’t know what to do with yourself now that you’d achieved it.

You weren’t lost for long though. The nosy stranger that found you on the beach proved to be the next target of your focus. Your peaceful existence in this cottage overlooking the sea didn’t last long before you found yourself in their unwanted company once again. They might’ve thought they were subtle, hiding amongst the treetops and watching you quietly.

They weren't. You could sense them. Hell, even if it weren’t for the strange aura they emanated, you could smell them. They carried a strong scent of fermentation with them, and you could easily pick up on the pungent smell in the wind.

On the third day of your silent standoff, you grew fed up with this stranger’s odd behavior. You only knew one way of settling things, and that was face-to-face, not through some weird game of observation. You cleared your throat, preparing your underused voice and searching for your words. Tilting your head back to look at the trespasser, you snarl at their relaxed stance, laid back across a branch like they’re asleep.

“Come down.” You bark the command up into the trees.

The stranger doesn’t comply, but they do acknowledge you, opening their eyes and turning their head to look down at you. “So you can speak!”

You’re in no mood to entertain their conversation, certainly not before making sense of their intentions. “Come. Down.” You repeat, voice flat and serious.

“Are you gonna throw sand in my eyes again?” Light and playful, they question you.

You huff. “No.” Not without good reason, at least, you think to yourself but fail to vocalize.

They hum in thought for a moment before going quiet again. You let the seconds pass, growing more irritable with each one. Just as you’re about to call them down once again, they roll to the side, willingly falling from the branch they’d been laying on. Your muscles twitch and lock for a moment as you stop yourself from… from… from what? What were you going to do, run and try to catch them? Why would you do that? They’ve done nothing for you.

Your lack of action proves itself inconsequential as the stranger falls at a remarkably slow speed. It’s less of a fall and more of a… decent, you suppose, seeming to effortlessly defy gravity. Righting themself midair to land on their feet, they pull their cape forward on their shoulders, beginning to approach you.

You plant your hands firmly on the stone at your sides, readying yourself for anything.

“While that wasn’t the most convincing answer, I suppose I can extend a bit of trust to you. I sure hope you don’t make me regret it though!” They come far closer to you than anyone with a sense of self-preservation ought to. They hold a hand out between you, and you stare at it, waiting for something to happen. “I’m Venti, a bard from the city.”

Finally getting your first proper look at them up close, you’re struck with the strangest sense of recognition. You couldn’t pinpoint it to save your life, but… something about this person feels… familiar. Distant, hazy, and inexplicable, but it’s there nonetheless.

You don’t like it.

When you make no move to do… whatever they seem to want you to do with their hand, they drop it, and you flinch at the sudden motion. Frowning, they question you. “Might I ask for your name in exchange, my dear trespasser? We can hardly get to know one another without exchanging some basic information.”

Your brows pinch in frustration at the stranger's many words. They say a lot, and they say it fast. It’s been… you can’t recall how long it’s been since you last held such conversation. One word stands out to you, though. “Trespasser? Me?”

He nods. “Well, technically, yes! I don’t know much about you yet but I do know that this isn’t your house.”

“How?” You question, eyes narrowing, watching as they stupidly step even closer.

“How do I know that this isn’t yours?” They question you in return.

You nod, claws sharpening, palms itching with pent-up Geo energy crackling beneath your skin.

“Because it’s mine, silly!” They laugh, reaching out toward you.

Your instincts take over as the stranger moves to grab you, and you force your hands into the stone beneath you. Releasing the Geo energy you’d been holding onto, you use the repelling force to launch yourself up off the stairs and at the fool standing before you.

You don’t make contact with them though, stumbling forward into what suddenly becomes thin air and tripping over nothing, sending yourself straight to the ground. Righting yourself before you can even register the impact, your claws tear through the dirt and grass as you turn back to face your opponent on all fours.

You freeze at the sight of them, casually propped against the railing of the stairs, clearly not poised to fight. With no weapon in their hands, and refusing to take on any sort of combative stance, you find yourself locked in a one-sided stand-off.

Not taking their eyes off you, the stranger pats the banister they’re leaning against. “I wasn’t reaching out for you, friend.” As you process their words and the seconds turn into a minute, they make no move to attack you, so you slowly let your guard down. Just slightly. Bending at the knees, you settle in a deep squat on the ground.

When the stranger seems confident enough that you aren’t about to throw yourself at them again, they allow their attention to leave you and fall to the step where you’d just sat. Following their gaze, you notice two handprints now carved into the stone, the very edge of the stair chipped away in places where your claws had caught on it.

You ready yourself for an attack, as this stranger surely won’t take kindly to destruction of, apparently, their property. But they make no move to do any such thing. They simply look back up at you with a knowing smile.

“You take after Morax, I see.”

Up those stairs in that little back bedroom, is where I did my homework and I learned to play guitar.

Smiling and shaking your head at the memory, you make your way into the small home. It’s rather bare, even more so than it had been when you first found the place. The two of you had taken all of your personal possessions with you into the teapot, leaving nothing but the basic furniture behind. After all, you had far better options awaiting you through Tubby’s sub-space creation.

Seeing the cottage in its original state, it once again becomes clear to you just how little Venti had customized the place prior to you moving in. He didn’t, and still doesn’t have much to his name, truly living the life of the wandering bard he identifies as. Most of what he does have he keeps on his person, whether that be in the physical sense, or dematerialized and stored away.

The cottage turned into a bit less of a shelter and more of a home over the many months you spent there with him. You stocked the little kitchen with far more than just his assortment of fruits, and an array of objects you collected from your outings lined the shelves. Looking back now, with a bit more insight on your own mental and emotional states, you venture a guess as to your behavior. You were likely hoarding whatever you found as a means of making up for how long you spent having nothing.

Venti never shamed you for it, even though he likely understood the behavior from the beginning. He was incredibly empathetic, and kinder than you felt you deserved, even once parts of your past became known to him. It took some time, given your struggle to keep up with his words, and the bigger struggle of finding your own. You managed to get it across to him eventually though, and he’d been benevolent enough to take you in.

-

You come to a stop in the bedroom doorway, surveying the place through the lens of the past.

You remember countless hours spent at the small desk in the corner, hunched over paper with text on it that you couldn’t decipher. Venti stood beside you, one hand on your shoulder, patiently teaching you how to make sense of the symbols you saw.

You remember less stressful hours spent sitting on the floor, curiously plucking at the strings of the bard’s various instruments with your claws. He’d sit on the bed watching you, naming the notes and teaching you how to turn your discordant noise into beautiful music. You were never as good as he was though, and you really didn’t mind. You preferred to listen to him playing, anyway. The bard possessed a beautiful voice, and the soft songs he’d sing to you in the dark of night never failed to put your tormented mind at ease.

Staring at your designated spot on the floor, you laugh at the memory of countless nights spent refusing his invitations. He’d offered his bed to you from the beginning, insisting that you deserved it more than he did. Besides, he said, he was used to sleeping in trees and fields, on barstools and street corners. He claimed he wouldn’t miss the bed at all.

You wouldn’t hear of it. Vehemently denying any offers, you stubbornly slept- atop as many blankets and pillows as you’d allow him to give you- on the floor by his bed like the dog you were. He wasn’t the only one used to sleeping in uncomfortable places, and you weren’t about to lose your edge by getting too comfortable too soon.

You think of the way you woke up this morning, wrapped in soft, warm blankets on a wide, plush mattress, face nuzzled into his neck, arms around his waist.

You’ve both come a long way.

You hear the familiar sound of distant hilichurlian chanting, and make your move to leave, bidding your old bedroom a quiet farewell once again.

Slipping out of the cottage and rounding the side of the building in a few long strides, you narrowly manage to evade their notice. Peeking around the corner, you watch them return to their prior posts. The Anemo Samachurl diligently paces between the trees, its Geo companion keeping watch from the stairs.

You smile, and turn to make your silent departure.

-

Checking in on your old home had been a successful distraction from the thoughts you’re trying to avoid, but you couldn’t linger there forever. Still, feeling unprepared to return to the teapot and try to put on a brave face for Venti, you find yourself wandering. With no particular destination in mind, you let your feet take you where they may.

You try to think of nothing at all for a while, failing over and over again as your mind searches for something to latch onto. Apparently counting your steps wasn’t entertaining enough for it.

After a while of failing to meditate on your walk, you find yourself leaving grass and stepping onto a dirt path. Looking up and around, you realize you’ve made your way to the road leading to the Thousand Winds Temple.

Turning and looking south, you can see the massive tree at Windrise, off in the distance. Far, far, beyond that, bringing your eyes to the horizon, you can see the snowy peaks of Dragonspine beyond the tall cliff of Galesong Hill. You sigh.

And I bet you didn't know, under that live oak, my favorite dog is buried in the yard.

A few months after arriving in Mondstadt and settling in with Venti, you found yourself exploring the icy riverbank that borders Dragonspine. The stubborn bard, wrapped in the thickest cloak he owned, trudged along behind you.

You’d told him he didn’t have to join you that day, but the thought of you exploring unfamiliar territory without him apparently just didn’t sit right. So, in spite of his occasional grumbles over the increasing cold, he never left your side.

The area was predictably desolate, save for a few Cryo Hilichurl archers lounging on the icy banks like they were on summer vacation. You weren’t looking for a fight that day though, just to explore, so you avoided drawing their attention given the divine company you were in.

Later on, as you were focusing hard on what Pyro energy you could summon in an attempt to melt the ice encasing a chest, you found something far more valuable. Venti saw it first, having been eyeing the surroundings while you were focused on the task at hand. Calling your name, he summoned your attention with ease.

Turning to look at him, your gaze followed his pointed finger and landed on a dog, slowly making its way toward you.

The animal was fairly large, but certainly far from threatening given the state it was in. As it drew closer, Venti lowered himself to his knees in the cold wet grass, suddenly forgoing his prior reluctance to endure the elements. You smiled. It seemed like he’d learned a thing or two from you about dealing with fearful dogs.

You followed suit, crouching down beside him and getting on the dog's level. The shivering animal hesitated, coming to a stop about fifteen feet away. Materializing some fresh meat you’d caught on the journey there, you quietly held it out toward the dog.

It sniffed the air, but refused to move.

Tearing a chunk off, you gently tossed it in the dog’s direction, and it landed a few feet in front of it. Sniffing harder, the animal carefully approached the offering, sticking its head out as far as it could to reach the food and avoid coming closer.

The two of you spent the better part of an hour luring the dog toward you, slowly but surely winning it over with continued offerings of fresh meat.

Upon closer inspection, you were honestly shocked that it was still standing. Skin stretched tight across its ribcage, hip bones two sharp peaks, spine a long mountain range down its back… the thing was clearly starving. You weren’t sure if it was the stress of a difficult life, a sign of old age, or both, but what you assumed had once been black fur was almost white from graying, particularly in its face. It trembled incessantly, and as soon as it came close enough and didn’t seem apt to bolt, Venti untied his cape and wrapped it around the dog, who shockingly didn’t fight it.

Maybe Venti had been serious when he claimed he could talk to animals.

You fed it more bites of meat as the two of you quietly discussed the best way to get it home. Blessedly, once the dog realized that neither of you held malicious intentions, it switched gears surprisingly fast. More than just tolerating your presence, the dog actually began to cling to you, frantically whining when you both stood up, fearful that you’d be leaving it behind.

Abandoning your half-melted treasure, you knew it was time to leave. You were quite a ways from home and you weren’t about to try teleporting the dog in its current state. So instead, you carefully picked her up, frowning at how little she weighed. Venti took the remaining meat and distracted the nervous dog with more offerings of food as you began your long, slow journey home.

“Don’t- don’t feed her too fast. I know she’s hungry but I don’t want to make her sick.”

Venti nodded, tearing off smaller bites. “I remember.” He cryptically confirmed.

You adjusted the dog in your hold, pulling Venti’s cape up around her neck. “…Remember what?”

He suppressed a shiver, but you still noticed. “You ate yourself sick on fruit and raw meat the first night you spent here.”

Your head turned quickly, staring down at him. “You were watching? Even then?”

He nodded, expression solemn. “I followed you home, you know? It just took a few days for you to notice that I was there.”

You walked in thoughtful silence for a while after that, wondering if your scattered senses had failed you, or if he was actually better at hiding his aura than you thought.

-

The dog lived with the both of you in your little cottage for a few good months. She gradually put on weight, and some life returned to her alongside it. She still moved slowly, though, and you feared she was in pain.

By that point, you’d befriended a timid alchemist with mint-green hair, and sought her assistance. She’d kindly offered you a medicine of her own creation, advising that the dog seemed rather old, and likely suffered from joint pain. You offered her payment in Mora, which she politely refused. You eventually got her to accept a small assortment of bones you’d gathered in exchange, correctly surmising that the offer would be too tempting for her to refuse.

Sucrose’s medicine seemed to help, because the dog moved with noticeably more ease once you began giving it to her. She was far from spry, but she seemed comfortable, so you were content. She was also content, in the precious, innocent way that only a dog can be. Just happy to be alive, happy to be fed, happy to be safe. Happy to be near someone that loves them, and happy to be near someone they love.

“Adagio.” Venti had once said, gently raking his nails through her fur on a warm, sleepy afternoon.

“What’s that?’ It was far from the first time he’d said a word you didn’t know.

“In musical terms, it means played slowly… I think it would be a nice name for her.”

You considered it for a moment, and found it rather fitting, nodding in agreement with a smile. “I like that.”

Adagio spent her days laying in the shade near the cliff’s edge, watching the waves lap at the small shore below. Looking back, you can thank her for teaching Venti that you can survive a half a day on your own. She could hardly chase you all over Mondstadt, or weave her way after Venti through the busy city streets, so when one of you needed to go out for something, the other would stay home with her. One of the two of you were always there, and she never knew the pain of being alone again.

She spent her nights curled between the two of you. She couldn’t make the jump up onto the bed, and you were still stubbornly sleeping on the floor, so Venti made the executive decision to heave the mattress onto the floor as well. As silly of a sight as it may have been to an outsider, the three of you were comfortable, curled together amidst blankets and pillows on the too-small mattress, bed frame abandoned on the other side of the room.

Nothing lasts forever though, and it seemed to you that the best of things were always the quickest to go.

As months passed, her movements went from slow to slower, and she started struggling with more things. She could no longer steady herself to make it up and down the three stairs to your home, so one of you carried her every time. She slept more and moved less, and her love of food began to wane.

This wasn’t your first experience with something like this. Though it had been an awfully long time since you lived through it last, you still knew what was coming.

That didn’t make it hurt any less, though. Not at all.

Both of you sat awake with her through the final night, keeping her comfortable and telling her how much you loved her. You’d never hoped harder that Venti’s communicative abilities held true.

You kept it together until she released her final breath, and when you knew she was gone, you allowed yourself to fall apart.

Up until then, your walls had been an impenetrable fortress. No emotion escaped unless you allowed it. Venti had never seen you cry.

So when your pain escaped you this time, falling in heavy golden tears and landing in her gray fur, he could only stare. He knew this wasn’t his moment to intrude on, so he didn’t. He didn’t rush to wrap you in an embrace, nor did he try to offer any hollow words of comfort. This was pain. This was loss. He was intimately familiar with it, and he knew it had to be felt.

There isn’t a single detail of that night that you don’t recall, and the teal tears that fell next to your golden ones are no exception.

That was the first time you saw him cry, too.

-

The evening breeze cools the hot golden tracks running down your cheeks. You watch tears fall onto the dirt path beneath you, and then you close your eyes.

-

You both sat there with what remained of her until the morning sun slipped in through the window. You were surprised when Venti broke the silence, offering to bury Adagio beneath the Windrise tree.

You spoke through a voice thick and strained from your cries. “That’s… that’s a really special place.”

He nodded. “She was a really special dog.”

You wiped the fresh tears from your eyes before they could fall, turning to face him.

“Are you sure?”

“Absolutely.” He put his hand out, laying it next to Adagio on the mattress. “Unless you’d prefer elsewhere?”

You knew what to do this time. Reaching out and laying your hand in his, you shook your head slowly. “No. I think Windrise would be perfect.”

-

Opening your eyes, you raise your head to glance once more at the massive tree across the sprawling field. Bidding Adagio another quiet goodbye, you pull in a shaky breath, and turn, heading north.

Walking in silence for a while, you try to let your emotions settle. The tears you just shed seemed to help a little, but the knot in your stomach won’t leave you.

You follow the road a little while longer, but when you find yourself nearing the temple, you take a detour and head west, off the beaten path. You aren’t keen on running into whatever random explorers might be camping there this evening. Besides, the scent of cecilias is on the breeze, and you’d rather follow that instead.

Making your way up the uneven terrain that comprises the base of Starsnatch Cliff, your mind returns to its ruminations over what brought you here today in the first place.

You leave home, you move on, and you do the best you can.

The reason for your reluctance to leave Mondstadt became abundantly clear on the day you finally set out for the neighboring nation. As you left Dawn Winery behind and crossed the border, headed for Stone Gate, it sank in quickly.

Venti wasn’t beside you.

Up until that point, he’d been the literal wind at your back every step of the way. Every commission you completed, every request you fulfilled, every inch of land you explored, he was right behind you. Or beside you, or above you, or in front of you…

Regardless, he was there. Answering your questions, telling you stories, helping you make sense of the unfamiliar. Whether it be words you couldn’t yet read, customs you didn’t yet understand, or emotions you couldn’t yet identify, he was your guide through it all. The Stormterror crisis came and went, as did the… incident with Signora, and the two of you grew ever closer as a result of it all. You could fill a book with the stories of what you two went through in the mere year you spent in this nation. But, as you sat together beneath the Windrise tree one evening discussing it all, it slowly grew clear that it was coming time to move on. As if the notion alone wasn’t stressful enough already, there seemed to be an unspoken understanding that it was a journey you must undertake alone.

So, you did. You’d packed your things, said your temporary goodbyes, and set off on your own without so much as once giving in to the urge to ask him to come along. The goodbyes were, after all, only temporary. You hoped. If you made it through whatever awaited you in Liyue alive, you always planned on returning home.

And you did. Many times.

You, scared as you’d been, made it through the lively adventure that was your initial trip to Liyue, and you’d come out much stronger for it. You found a confidence that you’d forgotten you possessed, forced to show itself once there was no travel companion for you to rely on.

Quite early in your journey, you gathered that you weren’t completely alone anyhow. Sure, in your day-to-day there was no talkative bard trailing behind you, and the nights proved themselves awfully lonely indeed. But Venti’s parting words, “may the wind protect you”, proved themselves surprisingly literal as you took note of one particular Yaksha. After a few nights at Wangshu Inn, and a few bowls of almond tofu shared in relative silence, the man had made himself into your shadow shockingly fast. He never seemed to be around when your gaze searched for him in a crowd, but was always conveniently there the moment you ran into trouble.

Still, in spite of his protection, not to mention your growing, innate connection with the God of your favored element, you longed for home. You longed for your home. You longed for your God.

I got lost in this whole world, and forgot who I am.

So, once the dust, or, well, waves had settled and Rex Lapis had been “officially” laid to rest, you found yourself headed northeast.

In spite of how proud you’d been for making it on your own, all of that crumbled the evening you first crossed back into Mondstadt. You could've used any of the waypoints you’d resonated with, could’ve gone right back home to the cliff overlooking Falcon Coast. But something about that just didn’t feel right. Not for your first return.

Walking the path back toward Dawn Winery, you tried to keep your composure. You tried to not get irrationally emotional over the familiar sight of Anemo crystalflies fluttering over the grape vines. You ignored the warmth in your chest at the sight of soft yellow candlelight illuminating the cottage windows along your path.

Your weakening grip on your emotions completely failed though when you caught sight of a small, green-clad bard, legs dangling from the edge of a rooftop, plucking at his lyre.

You burst into tears on the spot, folding in on yourself and crumpling to the dirt beneath you.

He dropped the nonchalant act instantly, dematerializing from his perch on the rooftop and reappearing beside you in a small, warm burst of Anemo energy that you didn’t see through your tears, but definitely felt. He’d questioned you frantically, worried you were hurt, not understanding what was wrong. Eventually, largely thanks to his embrace, the sobs wracking your form eased enough to assure him that you were fine.

You’d just missed him, was all.

The array of conflicting emotions that flashed in his eyes at the admission would've intrigued you, had you not been so absorbed in your own at the time.

In spite of how badly you craved his company, you’d already proved to yourself that you could travel on your own. So, you continued to. After an extended stay in Mondstadt to recover from your first eventful excursion, you began traveling between the two nations more regularly. Having resonated with most of the waypoints and Statues of the Seven in Liyue as well, it was easy to hop over for the day and still come home to Venti at night.

I thought if I could touch this place or feel it, this brokenness inside me might start healing.

Such was your routine until Madam Ping had introduced you to her Teapots. Adeptal magic was quite the wonder, capable of impressive feats, and the new home offered to you was no exception. When you learned that not only could you live in it, but you could invite others in as well, you were over the moon. You were, of course, reluctant to bid a more permanent farewell to the little house overlooking the sea that you’d grown so familiar with. But when faced with something as convenient and extravagant as the teapot, you could hardly turn it down.

Venti had been more than interested in your offer when you brought the thing home and showed it to him. After bestowing a permanent invitation upon him, he took a liking to the space quite quickly, happy to help make yourselves a new home. Having already been informed of your penchant for Mondstadt, Tubby had crafted a world for you that resembled the land of freedom’s sprawling hills, cliffs, and beaches to an impressive degree. Your new home was far grander than your old one, but with a little time and personalization with what you both brought from the cottage, it really did start to feel like home.

It was… nice, having a safe place to return to every night, regardless of where you were or what you may be caught up in. It was even nicer that Venti seemed to quite enjoy spending time there as well. There’d scarcely been an evening where both of you hadn’t wound up in the teapot together, sharing stories of your respective days over dinner.

Things carried on like that for the remainder of your time in Liyue. You spent more and more time in the land of contracts, and less and less in Mondstadt as a result. Sometimes you’d have reason to return, and somehow you’d almost always run into Venti while you were there. Time spent with him in the teapot was no less real, but it always felt… special, when the two of you were together in Mondstadt again.

Out here, it's like I'm someone else, I thought that maybe I could find myself.

Still, just as it had been with Mondstadt, you couldn’t linger in Liyue forever. You’d built a reputation for yourself there to match your standing in Mondstadt, making a slew of new connections, exploring, finding answers and more questions alike. It was time to move on. Inazuma loomed far, far off on the southern horizon, and it was up to you to make the first step to reach it.

You didn’t want to.

You stood on the docks, looking out at Guyun Stone Forest, and at Beidou’s ship anchored nearby.

You found yourself feeling something you hadn’t felt in a long while. You felt the same as you had when standing atop the celestial nail, only this time it was somehow worse. It scared you. Yes, the prospect of setting off effectively alone to yet another unfamiliar nation, but more than that. It scared you because you thought you’d grown past this. You thought you could handle this. You thought… you thought you’d outgrown this immature sense of homesickness.

You were wrong.

If I could walk around, I swear I'll leave.

That’s how you found yourself here, ambling through the wilds of Mondstadt. You really, really don’t want to leave. But you know that you have to.

You think of the stories you’ve heard in Liyue, of the terrible war raging in the island nation to the south.

You release a shaky breath into the cooling air.

You pray that you’ll make it back alive.

Won't take nothin' but a memory, from the house that built me.

Following the cecilias as their trail grows thicker, you weave your way up to the peak of the massive cliff.

You’re only slightly surprised to see a small figure, dressed in a very familiar shade of green, sitting with their back to you at the very edge.

Tension you didn’t notice you were holding melts from your shoulders at the sight of him.

You do your best to push aside the emotional storm you’ve been caught up in, and you call out to him, playful. “Fancy seeing you here!”

He twists at the waist to face you, following your movement as you approach. “I could say the same, love. What brings you here?”

You laugh softly as you come to a halt beside him. “Well, I could ask the same of you.” You carefully lower yourself to the ground, letting your legs dangle off the cliff beside his. “Figured you’d either still be at the tavern, or were already home wondering where I was.”

He smiles at you, soft, before looking away. “I was at the tavern most of the day, like I planned this morning. But… something didn’t feel right. I wasn’t really… giving it my all, and I think the patrons could tell.”

You frown. “What didn’t feel right? Are you okay?”

“Oh, I’m fine, Windblume. I’m just fine.”

You aren’t convinced. “Then, uh… do you feel like sharing what isn’t fine?”

His gaze drops to the dark sea below. “I think you know what it is, actually.”

Cryptic as ever, you take a moment to ponder what he might mean. He takes the silence as an opportunity to elaborate. “I never really wonder where you are, you know?”

You glance at him, bemused for a moment before growing serious. “Oh, what, were you- like- watching me today? How… Wait, how long have you been up here, actually?”

He doesn’t look at you, but he shakes his head. “I don’t have to be watching you to know where you are, dear.” The wind tousles your hair. “I’m already everywhere. All the time. If the wind can reach you, I’m there.”

“...Oh. Right.” You let your own gaze fall to the sea. “Maybe I let myself forget sometimes, just how… literal that is.”

You remember the warm sea breeze from this afternoon, the brief gust that cooled your tear-stained cheeks early this evening, and the wind that brought the scent of cecilias down toward you.

“...So you could tell that I was here today.”

“Yeah.” He confirms quietly. “There was something… discordant, blowing in from Falcon Coast this afternoon. It didn’t take long for me to identify you.”

Guilt blooms within you. “Is that when you left the tavern?”

“No, I didn’t head out immediately. I mean- I can hardly turn off my omniscience, but I do still try to give you privacy in spite of it. I figured if you needed me, or… wanted me, you would call out.”

The way he says “wanted” makes your frown deepen.

“But, when the tone of the air only continued to sour as time passed, I did eventually give in to my concern.”

You pluck at the grass beneath you to busy your hands. “I’m sorry for distracting you. I really didn’t mean to, I just…”

He turns to you, cutting you off. “Please don’t say that. I couldn’t care less about losing out on a few mora at the tavern. I care about the fact that you’re out here, crying to yourself, all alone.”

A familiar tension makes itself at home again in your throat. “I…”

You trail off, lost for words. Venti makes up for it though, seeming to suddenly have quite a bit to get off of his own chest. “I can sense the difference between someone who wants to cry on their own, and someone who’s crying because they’re on their own.” His pained voice nearly cracks. “I never thought I’d feel the latter coming from you. But I’ve felt it more than once now, and… I don’t know what to do.”

At his confession, honesty slips out of you, and you can’t hold back the tears that come with it. “I miss you.” You turn to face him, and then look past, gesturing weakly out to the sprawling land of freedom behind you. “I miss this! I miss home! I miss you!” Voice breaking, you choke on your tears and lean into him, crumpling pathetically down onto his lap and curling yourself around him like the needy animal that you are.

His hands settle on you, one on your back and another reaching for your legs, pulling you against him so you don’t slip off the edge. His winds would cradle you if you fell, but he’d rather prevent the problem before it can happen. His own voice is tight with emotion when he speaks. “You have me, love. You- you hold me every night, I bid you goodbye every morning, you can visit Mondstadt whenever you please!”

You shake your head vehemently in his lap, crying harder.

“I’m sorry, love- I- I really don’t understand. In what way do you not have me?”

You practically shout your answer into the fabric of your sleeves, turning your head just enough to pointlessly attempt to wipe your face. “When I leave! I have to leave! I have to leave, and leave you behind, and you aren’t with me, and I’m alone again every time I go!”

One of his hands comes up to carefully comb the damp hair from your face, the black tips now wet with shimmering gold. “When you leave Mondstadt? Like… like when you go to Liyue?”

You nod, almost hyperventilating as your fears spill from you. “I should've never gone there alone! I wanted to ask you, I wanted you to come with me so badly but something told me that I shouldn't ask, that I should go alone, and so I went and I was so fucking scared but- but- but I was fine- I was fine- I made it back alive and so what if I cried every night because I missed you? I had a fucking nation to save it’s not like I could come home crying to you about it! And- and I mean Xiao was there but I- I- I can fight I can hold my own I don’t need protection I need a friend! I need company! I need you! I- I knew I’d be fine but fuck I felt so alone and I missed you, I missed you, I missed Venti, I missed Barbatos, I missed you SO MUCH-” You suddenly heave for air in the middle of your spiel, breathing in too hard and choking on your own spit. Feeling about as vulnerable and pathetic as you’ve ever been, you give in to the misery, grasping for purchase at any part of him you can reach. Your claws dig into the thin fabric of his tights in a way you know you’ll be frantically apologizing for later, but in this moment you can’t bring yourself to stop. You can't bring yourself to do anything but cry, and cry, and cry.

He doesn’t say anything for a few minutes, the only sound he makes instead being a quiet, gentle hush, over and over, focused on calming you down. The cool hand that finds its way beneath your hair and settles on the back of your hot neck feels like heaven, and for a moment you cry harder at the relief. His other hand pets across the broad expanse of your back in slow, rhythmic, sweeping motions.

When your cries have quieted enough for you to focus on his words, he says something that surprises you.

“I’d have gone, if you’d have asked me.”

You hiccup a question. “Wh-what?”

“To Liyue. I would have been more than happy to go with you, if you’d have only asked.” His lithe fingers gently massage at the tension in your neck.

You twist in his hold just enough to look up at him. “Seriously?”

He gives you a weak smile, but it’s more sad than anything. “Of course. The only reason I didn’t invite myself along was because I wanted you to have the freedom to choose. I figured… if I offered to go with you, you might feel obligated to bring me with you.”

You laugh, but there's no humor in it. “This whole time… this whole time I really thought that you didn’t want to go.”

He’s visibly pained by the thought. “Why in the world wouldn’t I?”

You shake your head. “I don’t know… I just figured you had your reasons. It is another nation after all, and I’m still… not too sure how Archons feel about crossing into one another’s territory.” You clear your throat and scrub at your eyes and cheeks with a fist. “Figured maybe you didn’t want to run into Morax or something…”

He laughs, and there’s a bit of life in it this time. “Even the prospect of running into that old block-head wouldn’t be enough to stop me from accompanying you.” He takes your hand in his, stopping your aggressive assault on your messy face. “And while certain Archons might be… less than enthralled to see me again, just because I’m with you doesn’t mean I have to be recognized.”

Your brow furrows. “Venti and Barbatos don’t look all that different…”

He smiles down at you good-naturedly. “True. But I could take another form if it came down to it. Something unrecognizable to even them. If there’s anything I know how to do, it’s how to hide in plain sight and not be found.”

In spite of the tears still staining your cheeks, you give a small smile to your absentee God. “You’d really go to such lengths? For me?”

He gives you a confident nod. “For you and you only, love.”

His hand continues its gentle ministrations across your back, and your muscles gradually relax. You run a hand along the fabric of his tights, waiting for your breaths to come steady. As your senses slowly return to you, your fingertips brush across a few small tears in the material, and you cringe. Venti notices as much, and reassures you. “Hey- It’s alright. Don’t worry about that.”

His words are too late to stop you from raising your head enough to observe the damage, your hand gently cupping his thigh. “I didn’t scratch you… did I?”

“Nope! Just caught the fabric is all.” You aren’t inclined to believe him, given that with his abilities he could’ve healed any minor wounds before you even knew they were there.

You huff, dropping your head to his lap once more. “I’m still very sorry. I’ll buy you-”

“That won’t be necessary-” He tries to cut you off, but your insistence overpowers his own.

“I am buying you a new pair.”

He sighs in reluctant acceptance, knowing better than to challenge you. “Alright, alright. If you insist.”

You lay there for a moment, idly kneading at his thigh and letting the soft sounds of the evening wildlife fill the silence. Still, you struggle to wrap your head around the recent revelation. “You’d really be willing to leave this place?”

He laughs beneath his breath at your disbelief. “I mean, not permanently. If you’ve hatched some plan to move to Snezhnaya that I don’t know about, then I might have to disappoint you…”

You relax further at the familiar, playful edge that returns to his voice. “Nah, nah, nothing like that… just- on my journey away and back. Not- not even every time! Just… sometimes. It… really would’ve been nice to have you by my side the first time, actually, but I know it’s too late for that now. I just… wouldn't have felt so lost.”

His smile fades a bit at the confirmation of a long-held suspicion. You had been missing him as badly as he’d missed you.

You catch the shift in his demeanor, no matter how slight. “...I’m making you sad…”

One of his hands finds yours. “Only at the realization of how oblivious I’ve been.” He laughs, humorless. “All those nights I couldn’t sense you in the wind, all the time I spent wondering if you were okay… you weren’t. You were holed up somewhere, crying, alone, afraid…”

His eyes pinch closed and you squeeze his hand. “It’s not on you. I should’ve been more honest with you before I left.”

He huffs, and then he’s quiet for a moment, thinking. It’s times like these in which you wish you could read him as well as he can read you. “...I could say the same.”

You stare up at him for a moment in confusion. “What do you mean?”

He holds your gaze for a moment and opens his mouth to speak, but seems to think better of whatever he had to say. His focus shifts from you and out to the sea. “...Like I said, I would’ve been happy to follow you. I never should’ve let you grow to believe otherwise.”

You pout just slightly at the less-than-complete sounding answer, but another question overrides your focus. “Is Liyue… the limit?”

The hesitation in your voice gives him pause. “What do you mean?”

“Is Liyue, like, as far as you’re willing to go.”

His eyes brighten in understanding, and you’d collapse from relief at the shake of his head if you weren’t already on the ground.

“Oh! No, not at all. I really meant it when I said I’d risk running into the other Archons for you.”

You release his hand and reach up to pinch the fat of your cheeks between your claws. He pouts, reaching down to stop you. “What’s that for?”

“I’m afraid I’m dreaming or something…”

He laughs properly, a beautiful sound. You crane your neck up to glance southward. The wall of storms barricading Inazuma are still there, an awful sight. You drop your head back to his lap with a heavy sigh.

He pats you gently on the cheek. “You’re wide awake, I assure you.”

Reaching up, you gently bat at the braids that hang at the sides of his face, chewing on your lower lip. He reads you like a book. “I think we’ve learned something this evening, dear.”

“What’s that?”

He catches your hand mid-air, splaying his fingers out and lacing them between yours. “It’s that when we have something to ask of one another, we should do it.”

The corner of your mouth turns up, and you meet his gaze. “Is that your fancy way of telling me to spit it out?”

He giggles. “Maybe.”

You sigh, letting your gaze drift away from him and up to the stars far, far above. “Would you be so kind… as to accompany this scared old dog all the way to Inazuma?”

You close your eyes, waiting for a “no.”

It never comes. Instead, he squeezes your hand in his, and you’re shocked to hear relief in his tone when he answers you. “I thought you’d never ask.”

Your eyes flicker open, unsure. “Is… is that a yes?”

He nods vehemently. “It is.”

The tears that spring to your eyes catch you by surprise. He wipes them away with his thumb as they fall. Sniffling, you question him again. “There’s- There’s a whole war going on over there right now, you know?”

The blue in his braids brightens, and in the dark of the early night, you notice the same turquoise light begin to shine from his chest, beneath the thin fabric of his white shirt. “I’m no stranger to war.”

You reach up, tracing a gentle finger across where you know one of his Archon marks to be. “...That you aren’t.”

His thumb swipes across the black star at the base of your neck, half hidden by your collar. “...Guess that makes two of us, huh.”

It’s a rhetorical question, but you hum in confirmation nonetheless. Rising from your spot on his lap, you wiggle your way around until you’re seated beside him properly again. Reaching an arm out, you wrap it around his shoulders, and he leans into you. Both of you stare out across the sea, watching the lightning flash in the storm to the south.

“I don’t even know what I’m gonna be able to do to help.” You sigh. “But I know I have to go.”

One of his hands finds yours again. “Whatever may come, I consider it an honor to fight alongside you.”

You bark a laugh, shaking your head at the notion. “Hey now, I just asked you to come with me, I never said anything about putting you in the line of fire.”

He smiles. “I know, I know, but still… if it comes down to it-”

“If it comes down to that, I’m hauling you over my shoulder and taking us both home.” You cut him off in a no-nonsense tone.

Your seriousness doesn’t cause his mirth to falter. “I fear I’m gonna be the one dragging you home if we run into Signora while we’re there.”

A low growl reverberates from your chest at the mere mention of her. “We’ve still got a score to settle.”

He pats you on the thigh placatingly, humor in his words. “Darling, how many times must I reassure you? I let her take it from me.”

“Still, she didn’t have to be so fucking rough about it. I’m not after the gnosis. She made this personal.” You snarl.

His soft laughter subsides as he shakes his head, but he doesn’t argue.

The two of you watch the lightning show for a short while, before you grow tired of the dreadful sight and opt to focus on something better. Unwrapping your arm from the God at your side, you stifle a laugh as he voices his sudden startled displeasure. You apologize as you reposition yourselves, moving away from the edge a bit and turning the both of you around. “Sorry about that, didn’t realize you’d almost fallen asleep on me.”

He pouts. “Can you blame me? You’re warm, and it’s been a stressful day… and speaking of-”

You nod. “I know. We should be getting home soon. But- look.” You point at the beautiful sight of Mondstadt City, lit up for the night, a beacon of hope and freedom standing strong in the distance. “Isn’t that a sight worth sticking around a little longer for?”

He sighs in content as you pull him against you once more. You can’t feel the swell of pride in his chest at the sight, but you can hear it in his voice. “It sure is.”

Lifting his hat from his head and placing it in his lap, you comb your fingers through his hair, finding your own satisfaction in the way he melts against you. The two of you admire the city for a long few minutes, and a thought occurs. “As much as I want you beside me… I feel bad taking you from your people.”

He shakes his head and the motion tickles as his hair brushes against your chin. “They don’t need me, love. At least, not in the day-to-day sense.” He huffs. “Honestly, I think the most prominent place that my presence will be missed is the tavern, and that’s of little consequence in the grand scheme.”

You know he’s right, but the guilt still nags at you. “I guess…”

He leans away just enough to turn and look you in the eye. “You are one of my people too, you know?”

You hold his gaze, considering it. Have you really been here long enough, or made a big enough impact on the region to be bestowed with such an honorary title? “...I suppose I do.”

He reaches up and cups your cheek, eyes pleading. “Then let me be there for you.”

You breathe a sigh of acceptance. “...Okay.” You turn your head and plant a quick kiss against his palm before he can pull away.

He lets his hand drop, but doesn’t turn away. “I’m really sorry that you’ve been carrying all of this pain with you for so long. I should have questioned you on it sooner.”

You pick his hand up from his lap, taking it in yours. “It’s not your fault. At least, certainly not anymore than it is mine. I should've just asked you to come, the worst thing you could’ve said was no.”

“I still hate that you even thought I might’ve said no. I… should have made my willingness clearer.”

“Nah, I mean, after a year of following me around Mondstadt I think you were quite clear. I’m just… dense.” You summon a few tiny Geo shards in your palm before allowing them to crumble into a shimmering pile of dust. “Comes with the territory, I suppose.”

Venti scoffs. “Well if you’re dense, then I’m diffuse.” A tiny gust of Anemo swoops in and lifts the dust from your outstretched palm, scattering it to the wind.

You watch your two energies mix and dissolve into the night air. “I guess they do say that opposites attract.”

He hums. “That they do, love.”

You expect him to turn back toward the city, and he almost does, but then he hesitates, and calls you by name. “I want you to remember something.”

Your interest piques, brows raising above tired, lidded eyes. “And what’s that?”

His tone is serious. “You are not alone. Ever. Not if you don’t want to be. I don’t want you hesitating to call on me ever again. If you need me, if you want me, I’m there. No exceptions.” Maybe it’s the day’s exhaustion catching up with you, but the light in his eyes feels like a beacon, guiding you home. “You don’t ever have to be alone again. Remember this, please.”

Something warm blooms in your chest, and it’s in this moment that you realize the knot in your stomach has loosened. It isn’t gone, but it’s hardly noticeable anymore, and you finally breathe easy. You hold his gaze for a moment before nodding, serious. “I will.”

He brings his hand up, holding his pinky out toward you. “Promise?”

You smile, reaching out and wrapping yours around his. “Promise.”

He exhales, satisfied. “You wanna stay out here a bit longer?”

You open your arms in invitation. “I’d love to.”

Shuffling around once more, you help situate him between your legs, pulling him back against your chest.

“Alright, but don’t hold it against me if I fall asleep out here. You make for quite the comfortable bed, you know.”

You smile, nuzzling into his hair and breathing him in. The heavy scent of fermentation he once carried is now nothing but a faint whisper. “I won’t mind.” Lifting your gaze from the distant city lights, you quietly admire the stars above. “Not at all.”

A/N: Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed! You can find my commentary on this fic in the notes right here on Ao3. For more info on my OC Saoirse (aka this fic's "Reader"), along with links to various relevant playlists and moodboards, you can find it all here, in the notes of my fic series "This Is Unconditional." This is fic 4 of 16 that I'm doing based on combining prompts from this list! [Day 6 (Singing) & Day 21 (Memory)] Header Image Source: Me, for once! It's an in-game screenshot that I took myself.

[sinfulsalutations]

Alright you beautiful writer you. Could I request, with no pressure or hurry or expectation, Howzer x Fem!Reader being reunited after he is broken out of prison? Like they were together for a while before he got arrested… NSFW if you’re feeling it. 💕 Much appreciation for you and your fantastic writing!!

𝕙𝕠𝕞𝕖 ⋆*･ﾟ𝕔𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕒𝕚𝕟 𝕙𝕠𝕨𝕫𝕖𝕣

➼ ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ ☆ ᴄᴀᴘᴛᴀɪɴ ʜᴏᴡᴢᴇʀ x ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

➼ ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ ☆ ɪᴛ ᴛᴀᴋᴇꜱ ᴀ ᴍᴏᴍᴇɴᴛ ꜰᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴏᴛʜ ᴏꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ᴛᴏ ꜰɪɴᴅ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴍᴏᴍᴇɴᴛᴜᴍ ᴡʜᴇɴ ʜᴏᴡᴢᴇʀ ʙʀᴇᴀᴋꜱ ᴏᴜᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴘʀɪꜱᴏɴ ᴀɴᴅ ʀᴇᴛᴜʀɴꜱ ᴛᴏ ʏᴏᴜ, ʙᴜᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ɪɴꜱᴛᴀɴᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏ, ʜᴇ ᴄᴏᴍᴇꜱ ʙᴀᴄᴋ ᴛᴏ ʟɪꜰᴇ.

➼ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ☆ ᴇᴍᴏᴛɪᴏɴᴀʟ ʜᴜʀᴛ/ᴄᴏᴍꜰᴏʀᴛ, ꜰʟᴜꜰꜰ, ᴍɪʟᴅ ꜱᴍᴜᴛ, ʀᴇᴜɴɪᴏɴ (ꜱᴇx), ᴘ ɪɴ ᴠ ꜱᴇx

➼ ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ ☆ 1.2ᴋ

➼ ᴘᴏᴠ ☆ ꜱᴇᴄᴏɴᴅ ᴘᴇʀꜱᴏɴ

⋆ ★ ꜰʀᴇᴇ ᴍʏ ʟᴏᴠᴇ, ɪ'ᴍ ꜱᴏʀʀʏ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴛᴏᴏᴋ ꜰᴏʀᴇᴠᴇʀ. ɪ ᴀᴍ ɢᴇᴛᴛɪɴɢ ᴍʏ ᴀꜱꜱ ʙᴇᴀᴛ ʙʏ ʟɪꜰᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴍᴏᴛɪᴠᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ᴀɴᴅ ᴡʀɪᴛᴇʀꜱ ʙʟᴏᴄᴋ, ᴀɴᴅ ɪ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ'ᴠᴇ ɢᴏᴛᴛᴇɴ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴏᴜᴛ ᴍᴜᴄʜ ꜱᴏᴏɴᴇʀ ɪꜰ ɪ ʜᴀᴅɴ'ᴛ. ɪ ʜᴏᴘᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴜɴᴅᴇʀꜱᴛᴀɴᴅ. ʙᴜᴛ ɪ ʀᴇᴀʟʟʏ ʜᴀᴅ ꜰᴜɴ ᴡʀɪᴛɪɴɢ ꜰᴏʀ ʜᴏᴡᴢᴇʀ, ʜᴇ ʀᴇᴀʟʟʏ ꜱᴛᴏʟᴇ ᴏᴜʀ ʜᴇᴀʀᴛꜱ ɪɴ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ᴀ ꜰᴇᴡ ᴇᴘɪꜱᴏᴅᴇꜱ, ɪ ʜᴏᴘᴇ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴍᴇᴇᴛꜱ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴇxᴘᴇᴄᴛᴀᴛɪᴏɴꜱ. ᴀʟꜱᴏ ɢᴏɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴘᴜᴛ ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪɴ ꜰᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄʟᴏɴᴇ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ʙɪɴɢᴏ. ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴄʀᴏꜱꜱᴇꜱ ᴏᴜᴛ 'ʜᴏᴡᴢᴇʀ' ᴀɴᴅ 'ɢɪꜰᴛ' ᴏɴ ᴇᴀᴄʜ ᴏꜰ ᴍʏ ᴄʜᴀʟʟᴇɴɢᴇ ᴄᴀʀᴅꜱ. (ɪ ᴘᴜᴛ ɢɪꜰᴛ Qᴜɪᴛᴇ ꜰɪɢᴜʀᴀᴛɪᴠᴇʟʏ, ʟᴍᴀᴏ).

➼ ᴛʜɪꜱ ꜰɪᴄ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴀɪɴꜱ ɴꜱꜰᴡ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ. ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ ɴᴏᴛ 18+ ᴅɴɪ

⋆ ★ ʀᴇᴀᴅ ᴏɴ ᴀᴏ3 ⋆*･ﾟ ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ ꜰᴏʀᴍ

His immediate reaction, after months of separation and constant anxiety about each other's wellbeing, spending hours pondering and hoping to see you, touch you again, then finally getting that chance in this instant, is just to hold you.

Not to mash your lips together messily without order or dignity; not to say something profoundly romantic or amorous; Howzer instantly has the gut, instinctual urge to wrap you in his arms, wrap himself in your arms, and for the first time in months, feel safe.

You move first; with amble steps you creep closer, allowing him time to process the site in front of him, and offer a gentle smile. Though your muscles fight back against it, so accustomed to endless frowns and worry creases, it’s still a pass of kindness he’s been deprived of for months that you so desperately want him to feel; Howzer flashes a look, seeing it as well, but doesn’t say a word. He’s rather thankful to get the reassurance, to know that your love is still here, waiting for him, after so long.

Soft, gingerly hands reach to cup his face, heedful fingers curling around his jaw and tilting his head down to meet your eyes. Your thumb absentmindedly trails over the scar on his cheek, look into his eyes, that gorgeous face and well-kept hair that you so desperately missed and wished to feel against your skin again, to see and hold again, and let out a shaky exhale. He smiles softly, but it’s still so washed down he’s barely recognizable. Frustration boils deep inside of you, but doesn’t dare surface; you know he’s going to need a moment before he’s back to his full self.

Before you can say anything, Howzer nuzzles his face into your neck and wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you tight to his warm body. You can feel how he takes a deep, deep inhale, nose pressed to your skin and slowly moving to press against your hair, taking in your scent, taking in you, holding you there for a long moment. Your hands reach up and grip his shoulders to keep him steady as he trembles where he stands.

Howzer brushes a strand of hair behind your ear and tilts his head up, softly asking, delicate and quiet in your ear,

“Were you safe?”

You nod softly, screwing your lips tight. He sounds so worried, all the anxieties and hardships from months of Imperial imprisonment and separation flowing from Howzer’s veins to yours. You’d gone through so many paths of thought and paranoia yourself; to imagine what he might’ve felt and dealt with makes your heartache.

“Was everything okay?” Howzer then asks. You feel his eyelashes brush against you, fluttering softly as he scrunches them tight in concentration. Without hesitation, you move your hands and hold his face again, handling him to press your foreheads together. Howzer relaxes ever so slightly in your grasp.

“It was,” You tell him. He doesn’t open his eyes, but you don’t mind. In your way, you understand completely. As you continue talking, his hands leave your waist and are placed over yours, gripping them softly and messily interlocking your fingers. “But I worried.”

He only nods, muttering ‘I know, I know,’ and allowing you to repeat it for him, to emphasize.

“I worried so much .”

Another nod.

“I know, I know.”

Another stifled hiccup.

“And–you’re okay.”

Howzer’s hand moves, guiding yours to his mouth and he carefully kisses your palm, eyebrows knitted, before he brings it back to his cheek and opens his eyes. The tight strings holding his face together come undone the instant your eyes meet, and he offers you a bigger smile than before. One of relief, of love. 

“I am,” He says.

You can’t stop yourself. With an anguished heave, you pull Howzer down to your lips, seizing him in the way you’ve dreamt of, wished for every night when he’d been taken from you.

He squeezes your hands tight while his mouth presses to yours with equal fire, before his dexterous hands dislodge themselves from you and descend to trail over your body, finding his favorite places in your dips and crescents again, relearning how you feel against him. It’s a slow, gentle exploration. One of two lovers recapitulating each other, even after pelts of obstacles and separation, and fit together like two puzzle pieces.

Howzer lets out a dark sigh against your lips before letting his lips part, swiping his tongue over your lips and pushing past. He doesn’t need your permission; he never does. To still give him such trust in both directions has your heart beating faster, practically jumping out of your chest. Howzer can feel it; he separates for a moment to smile, brighter and wider than before. You blink back a lone tear that threatens to ruin such a perfect moment.

“Howzer,” You mutter absentmindedly.

”Yes?” He answers.

Silence, contentment and peaceful stillness take over the whole atmosphere. You want him, need him so bad, desperately crave breaking down the last barrier, and finally prove to your brain that the man you love is right here, with you, rightfully returned.

You want to speak, but all that comes out of you is a whine.

Howzer hums thoughtfully as if he knows exactly what you mean to say.

”I’m here, mesh’la,” He tells you, closing in again and caressing your lips with his. “I know, it doesn’t feel real. It’s the same for me.”

Your eyes flutter close and you nod with a strained sigh, dislodged and sore in your throat. His lips trail away and place a kiss on your temple. Howzer’s hands trail further down until they reach the backs of your thighs.

He finalizes the sentiment with sweet, low words whispered in your ear.

”But we’re back home. I’m back home. Where I belong. I’ll do anything to make sure we both remember that.”

He has you held against him. You don’t even realize that he’s slowly guided you to your room until your back has met the mattress. You squeal softly and he shushes you affectionately with a slow peck. But you can feel the sly grin he barely contains.

It's such a gift, to hold him like this. Like the Maker has finally decided to bestow on you what he'd so rudely taken from you. You strip each other down, slowly and methodically with no rush, placing kisses on newly exposed skin and mouthing mumbles and mutters of longing and adoration into each other's bodies, then meeting the other's eyes to offer a bittersweet smile. 

Howzer holds his cock halfway inside of you, grunting softly when you sigh sugary soft and kiss his hairline.

“You’re okay," You whisper, half to him, half to yourself as reassurance.

He nods, lips strung tight together and just heaving. Holding back, savoring every single crevice of you he'll receive.

“I am,” Howzer says.

You sigh softly as he trails his thumb over your clit, the other hand holding your waist steady against the mattress.

“We’re–We’re okay,” You stammer out, eyes flitting up and away from his intense gaze. Howzer reaches in, his hum rumbling from his chest and vibrating against your skin, and he places a wet, hot kiss on your jaw.

“Yeah, we are. We are–just like this. Kriff .” He lets a curse leave his mouth as he feels you clench around him, as if beckoning him to give you more, make sure you damn well know that he is here, with you, finger-fucking you while you hold back tears of pent-up pain and relief.

And when he finally buries himself to the end of you, hands and eyes interlocked, Howzer knows he’s returned home.

dividers by @saradika ~ tags: @clonexreaderbingo @starstofillmydream @pb-jellybeans @corrieguards @badbatchbabe @ladytano420 @jediknightjana @sleepycreativewriter @shinyshayminflower @secondaryrealm @nobody-expects-the-inquisitorius @anotherschuylersister @wolffegirlsunite @starrylothcat

[searchingsomewhere]

All Too Well, Part 4

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 5

CW: Mention of suicide. Ya'll know her technique.

The Tokyo Jujutsu High library was a large building nestled in the center of campus. The building itself was as old as the school, having been one of the first constructed on the school grounds. Hundreds of books and scrolls were displayed on rows and rows of shelving, with even more material stored away. Students could find information on any type of curse or technique as long as they had clearance. The more secretive and banned scrolls, including the seals Miho used, were kept in a separate area.

Miho usually cleaned and reorganized the shelves. She did this at least two times a day. The library had never been so clean before she started working there. The acting librarian, a short elderly woman named Miyoko, was shuffling paperwork about on her desk.

Twelve PM came and went. Miho checked the time on her phone. Everyday for about two weeks, Satoru had come to pick her up for lunch with his gaggle of friends. It was like clockwork. Miyoko always had to hush them with a shaky finger to her lips.

I didn't even know we had a library, Satoru admitted the first day they came.

That's because you have to be able to read to use it, Nanami had muttered.

She had recognized Kento Nanami the first time they had come to have lunch with her. He was quiet and shy, like her, and often came to study on his own. They hadn't spoke much, but she appreciated his company while she completed her own studies. Having both Shoko and Nanami there helped ease her anxiety about hanging around Satoru, Suguru, and their other friend, a boy named Yu Haibara. Even though she was too afraid to speak the first few days, eventually Miho found herself looking forward to the noon lunch hour.

This time, however, Satoru came alone.

It was fifteen after when he walked in, hands in his pockets. A toothy grin broke out across his face when he saw her poke her head out from behind the bookshelf. How he was able to see with his sunglasses on in the dim room was beyond her.

"Ready to go?" he asked. Miho nodded, grabbing her tote bag from the front desk.

"I'll be back, Miss!" she said, bowing her head before joining him near the door.

"See you after lunch, Grandma!" Satoru said, waving to the librarian. She chuckled and waved back.

"Where is everyone?" Miho asked, glancing around. It felt strange walking next to him without the others. She realized just how much taller he was, almost a head taller than her.

"Missions," he groaned, "I got left out. How is that even fair?"

It was weird that he didn't text her first. If she had learned one thing about Satoru in the two weeks of hanging out with him, it was that he texted everything. Every thought he had throughout the day, anytime plans changed, about the weather. He had even called her a few times for things he could have texted.

Even stranger, he was uncharacteristically quiet. She didn't believe there was a quiet bone in his body. Yet there he was, walking next to her silently.

Satoru had picked a spot on the roof of a building overlooking the training courtyard. The wind up there was stronger than she expected. She was glad she wore her tights that day. She said his name once, handing him a bento from her tote, but he was staring off into the distance.

"Satoru," Miho said.

He blinked, looking at the outstretched box. It was in a blue plastic bento in the shape of a bear. She always packed an extra because he usually forgot to bring one. Satoru grabbed the bento from her with unusually calm energy. He was eerily quiet while they ate. What may have been normal lapses in conversation for some people was agonizing silence for her.

Miho adjusted her skirt, pulling it further down her legs before stuffing her empty bento in her tote bag.

"Is something wrong?" she asked. "Satoru?"

Satoru took off his sunglasses, fiddling with the lenses while he watched the field.

"The Simple Seal," he pondered, "I wonder how strong it really is."

Down below, the first years were walking out to train. Miho watched them silently.

"Do you think it's stronger than Limitless?" he asked.

She snorted. "Of course not. I'd have to seal you with my Domain."

"Would you? Kill yourself to seal me, if administration told you to?"

"Where did this come from?" Miho asked, alarmed.

When she looked at him, he was watching her with glowing eyes. Was he reading her cursed energy? Looking at her technique? She didn't fully understand the extent of the Six Eyes. But the way he watched her so closely made her heart flutter. His eyes darted around her face, flickering from her eyes to her mouth. Finally he looked away.

"They're only using us, you know," he said, his voice unusually sharp, "Like weapons. That's why they hit you when you don't behave."

She knew who 'they' were. She pulled her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms around them.

"...I know," Miho said quietly.

"And they'll keep using us. Even against each other," Satoru said.

The two sat in silence for some time. He was always so bubbly and lively, and yet sitting just inches from him she could feel the tension roll off him in waves. He felt like a rubber band stretched too tightly, ready to snap in half at the slightest pressure.

"One day, I'll die using my domain. That's my destiny," Miho said.

He looked over at her.

"I'm glad we met, Satoru. Because when the time comes, at least now I'll be doing it for my friends."

She smiled at him. Satoru's eyes widened and he stared at her, unable to look away. The tension from his shoulders melted away. He laughed, rubbing the back of his neck to disguise the flush that reddened his cheeks.

"I think you could seal Limitless. But you'd have to catch me first," he said suddenly, his tone much lighter.

"Is that a challenge?" she asked. His smile dispersed the heavy tension in the air.

"You need some actual training, first. Right now you couldn't catch a fly."

"I could seal you if you weren't using your technique!"

"That doesn't count-"

Laughter filled the air as she tried to grab his arm over and over. He disappeared and was behind her instantly, switching to the other side when she tried again. Miho didn't noticed in her fits of laughter because Satoru was just naturally flirtatious, but he was watching her a little more carefully now.

--

When the lunch hour was over, he gently took her by the waist and jumped down from the building. Miho instinctively grabbed his shoulders as they floated down. He slowed their descent just a fraction so he could keep holding her. His hands lingered on her waist longer than they normally would have, but she was already pulling away to walk side by side with him.

Satoru grinned, slipping his sunglasses back on. Sometimes it was easier to hide his face that way.

[kandisheek]

FIC REC WEEK 23 – POST-CA:CW

Over Sea, Under Stars by vorkosigan

Pairing: Steve/Tony Rating: T Words: 36,651 Tags: Depression, Fix-It, Texting

Summary: Tony gets the phone, but he never uses it and he never intends to. Or, he doesn’t until Steve starts texting him, asking strange questions about medication and mental health, which is when Tony gets worried. (A texting fix-it that grew beyond all proportion. Deals with depression and anxiety quite a lot. There is even some plot in there somewhere.)

Reasons why I love it: This fic makes me so goddamn emotional. They hurt each other so much, and the guilt floating around is so thick it feels like it's choking me. But when things get better, it's so rewarding and satisfying, it almost makes me cry. Also, if you read this, pay attention to all the time-stamp descriptions, because they're hilarious. This fic is wonderful and a brilliant fix-it to the whole mess that is Civil War, so if you haven't read it yet, I hope you give it a whirl.

Forms of Love by bear_bell

Pairing: Bucky/Tony Rating: E Words: 33,596 Tags: Civil War Team Ironman, Separate Personalities (Winter & Bucky), PTSD

Summary: Months after the Avengers' dispute in Germany, the team returns to the US and moves back into the tower. As always, everyone pretends that nothing happened. Tony is just fine with this. He's used to pretending, and he'll be damned if he lets any of them see him flinch. Tony's the bad guy, after all. He's used to it. He's fine with it. He's good at it. Only now, there's something far worse loitering around the tower - The Winter Soldier. No one notices the guy at first, but when they do, Tony figures that he should have the soldier's back. Birds of a feather should flock together, and the bad guys should start a book club.

Reasons why I love it: I gotta be honest, I'm not a big fan of CW discourse when a specific side is taken. So it says a lot that I enjoyed this fic regardless. Even though it clearly leans towards one side of the argument, it's handled in a way that feels respectful and understandable. The writing is amazing, and I ADORE the relationship that Tony has with both Winter and Bucky. Plus, the way Bucky slowly learns to stop fighting Winter and starts getting along with him instead is really beautiful. This fic is wonderful, and I highly encourage you to read it!

The Crying Game by fohatic

Pairing: Steve/Tony Rating: E Words: 36,416 Tags: Angry Sex, Dubious Consent, Power Play

Summary: Steve Rogers stared at the dimly glowing digital screen of the little burner phone, rereading the text message as if it might somehow give away something he missed the first dozen times he scrutinized it. His frown only deepened, though, brows drawing together with consternation as the 88 characters only left him with an even more ponderous sense of uncertainty. If you meant what you wrote, I'll be at the Swissotel Sarajevo, 4/18. Presidential Suite. 9pm. Come alone. Nearly a year after Steve and Tony's fallout—and only weeks after hearing press rumors that Tony and Pepper's engagement was inexplicably called off—Steve gets a message on the dedicated burner phone. Despite his instinctive reservations, he's compelled to answer the mysterious call.

Reasons why I love it: Oh, this one hurts SO GOOD!! I just want to take them both and shake them, god, the emotional conflict is so raw and awful, and I LOVE it! It's like that feeling of wanting to peel off a scab, and then you do it and it hurts, but the itching goes away so it's worth it. If that makes any sense at all. Point is, I love this fic to bits, and you should give it a read (if you can stomach some unpleasant emotions, that is).

[foxes-that-run]

Taylor Swift interview: 'A relationship? No one’s going to sign up for this'

“No one’s going to sign up for this and everything that goes with it. Like, “Hi, nice to meet you, want a date? Do you love camera flashes? I hope you do!” I don’t know what’s going to happen if I’m ever content in a relationship – no idea how that’s going to work,’ she continues, still smiling. ‘I don’t even know if that’s possible with the life I have.”

In an exclusive interview, the Shake It Off star talks to The Telegraph about sex, the Swifties and her friendship with Ed Sheeran.

'I had a bit of a reputation for having a lot of boy-bashing songs. Which is a really sexist way of saying heartbreak songs. ' Photo: Paola Kudacki/Trunk Archive

By Mark Sutherland GMT 28 Feb 2015 (x)

Taylor Swift is not only the biggest pop star on the planet, but also the biggest worrier. Right now she is worrying about this interview – her first major sit-down chat of the year. She has just come from a production meeting for her forth­coming world tour, fretting about the set list, sight lines and how to get her piano to the right part of the stage at the right time. Before that, when she woke up, she was immediately gripped with anxiety about something she said last night (even though it was only using the word ‘interjection’ when she meant ‘injection’). ‘I worry about everything all the time,’ she says with a grin. ‘We could do our entire interview me telling you how many things I’ve worried about since breakfast. “The Neuroses of Taylor Swift” is probably going to be the article headline.’

Most pop stars of Swift’s stature pay other people to worry about these things. And while the buzz of activity as we arrive at the well-appointed Beverly Hills house being used by Team Swift for their production meeting indicates that she has no shortage of people looking out for her, she remains hands-on with every aspect of her career.

But then the one thing she doesn’t need to worry about is how that career is going. It is Grammys weekend when we meet, and although Swift is attending rather than performing, she is still going to be the centre of attention.

There are plenty of reasons. She is the only artist ever to sell more than a million first-week US copies of three separate albums – Speak Now in 2010, Red in 2012, and 1989, released in October, which racked up the biggest first-week American sales since 2002 and went to number one around the world, including the UK, where it was the best-selling album by an international artist last year. Its lead single, Shake It Off, was an iTunes number one in 64 countries. She is the first artist since the Beatles to spend six or more weeks at number one in the United States with three consecutive albums (at the time of writing, 1989 is into its 11th week at the top).

Her cultural weight – 52.8 million Twitter followers, 22.1 million on Instagram and 74.4 million likes on Facebook – means that she can break acts with a single tweet, and she regularly shines that spotlight on new artists she enjoys. Her removal of her back catalogue from Spotify resulted in the music-streaming company’s CEO, Daniel Ek, justifying its entire business model. ‘I didn’t think it was going to be international news or affect a public offering,’ she claims. ‘If I have an opinion on something, I act accordingly – and I believe music is valuable.’

She ponders whether she’ll be the last person ever to sell this many records. ‘There were so many doomsday theories about the music industry,’ she says. ‘For the last two albums I’d sold one million copies in a week, and I knew people were waiting to see me not hit that number and then diagnose the music industry as dying or dead. Which is a lot of pressure to put on one artist and one album.’

Does she think future artists will sell records like this again? ‘It’s possible,’ she says. ‘We all have to step up and make albums that are good, top to bottom, if selling albums is still important. It is to me, but a lot of artists have already given up on that. I have friends who just think it’s not attainable, which I feel is a very defeatist way to look at life.’

And defeatism is not the Swift way. Her infectious can-do attitude is evident from the moment she greets me brightly at the door, wearing an elegant dress, with her hair swept back. Despite knowing her height (5ft 10in), I find her taller than I expected and slimmer, too. Swift has ordered in coffee, apologising for the lack of tea (‘You’re British! I should’ve known!’) and peppers conversation with first-name references to her famous friends.

Single after a string of high-profile relationships with men such as Harry Styles, Jake Gyllenhaal and Taylor Lautner, she has recruited a ‘squad’ of high-achieving close girlfriends, and spends what little downtime she gets baking with the supermodel Karlie Kloss, strolling around New York with the Girls actress and writer Lena Dunham or, as her recent Instagram posts indicate, whale-watching in Hawaii with the indie band Haim. ‘The thing about my girlfriends right now is that none of them needs me for anything other than friendship,’ she says. ‘I love the fact that they are all passionate about their jobs, whatever their jobs are. A lot of celebrity-type people have this group of people around them where their friends’ main priority is them, and they feel comfortable with that dynamic. I don’t feel comfortable with that dynamic.’

Taylor Alison Swift was born in West Reading, Pennsylvania, on December 13 1989 (13 is her lucky number). She spent her early years on a Christmas-tree farm run as a side business by her parents. Her father, Scott, is a wealth management adviser with Merrill Lynch; her mother, Andrea, worked at a mutual fund before becoming a full-time mother to Taylor and her younger brother, Austin. While at school in Pennsylvania Taylor often appeared in musical productions, local fairs and talent shows; and her love of country music was sparked by Shania Twain, perhaps the last country superstar to cross over to the pop charts as successfully as Swift.

The Swifts moved to Nashville, the home of country music, when their daughter was 15. Taylor and her mother had four years earlier hawked a demo CD around Nashville’s Music Row, going door-to-door in search of a break. Shortly after the family was uprooted, that break arrived. Swift became the youngest songwriter ever to be signed to Sony/ATV Music Publishing, and a year later a record deal followed with the fledgling label Big Machine, which released her eponymous debut album in 2006. Crucially, she became one of the first country artists to use the internet to market herself, expanding her reach beyond the genre’s traditional heartlands to recruit an army of teenage girl fans.

By the time of her second album, Fearless, in 2008, Swift was already shifting away from country (its lead single, Love Story, became her first hit in the UK, where she was marketed as a pop artist). Fearless made her the youngest ever winner of the album of the year Grammy (in 2010) and the first country star to win an MTV video award (best female video for You Belong with Me in 2009). Her acceptance speech was interrupted by the rapper Kanye West, who stormed the stage incensed that Beyoncé hadn’t won. Swift was devastated, but the incident catapulted her to mainstream attention. Barack Obama was moved to call West a ‘jackass��.

Her subsequent albums Speak Now and Red were progressively a little less country, a little more pop, but she has remained popular in Nashville. In 2013 she became the second ever winner of the Country Music Association’s Pinnacle Award, its highest honour. The previous winner, Garth Brooks, was in his mid-40s when he won – Swift was 23.

Taylor with Jay Z, Kanye West, and KIm Kardashian at the Grammy Awards last month. PHOTO: Getty

The Grammy Museum in Los Angeles has an entire floor dedicated to her story. There, footage of her singing Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star as a toddler, belting out the national anthem at sports events as a child and improvising a song about traffic for a country radio station as a teenager reveal that she has undoubtedly always been talented, if not prodigiously so. ‘I’m really lucky I got 10 years of practice in before we reached this point,’ she says. ‘I’ve climbed a lot of flights of stairs, rather than got a speed elevator. [Nowadays] an artist is just shot out of a cannon into the stratosphere.’

Before the release of 1989 Swift moved to New York. She cut her trademark long, blond hair and embraced feminism, although not, she says, as ‘some strategy – being a feminist is just part of my life’. She started going out drinking more, gradually easing away from the prim image that defined her teenage years, although she stresses, ‘My point is not to be sexy, my point is not to turn masses of people on.’ And she made a determined attempt to cause a ‘change in the narrative’ that had portrayed her as some sort of serial-dating bunny-boiler (an idea her song Blank Space skewers deliciously, by writing from the perspective of that character). ‘There was a bit of a reputation for having a lot of boy-bashing songs,’ she says, referring to the likes of I Knew You Were Trouble and Should’ve Said No. ‘Which is a sexist way of saying heartbreak songs. To trivialise someone who’s heartbroken is really cruel. But people have to simplify things,’ she says. ‘Everybody’s got busy lives, they don’t have time to form a complex opinion of me and my music. I’m in a different place in my life, where love isn’t really a priority. I haven’t dated anyone in years so there’s less chatter about the serial dater thing. I’m just really excited at an awards show when they don’t make some weird joke about my dating life.’

With Harry Styles in New York, December 2012. PHOTO: Getty

The other night she was photographed out with the Irish singer-songwriter Andrew Hozier-Byrne and some other friends, and she became anxious about what the gossip sites would say the next day. ‘I just got so freaked out that people were going to say I was dating him,’ she says. ‘I started thinking, “I can’t let this ruin my friendships with dudes.” I didn’t let it ruin my friendship with Ed [Sheeran] – they always said we were dating and we never were. But sometimes I get really scared.’

There was a time when Swift would refuse to use the internet for fear of what she might see (‘It’s very difficult to know people have the wrong impression of you and you can’t do anything to correct it’), but now she spends a lot of time online, interacting with the Swifties, her hardcore fans. ‘Not in a way that’s like, having sycophantic worshippers,’ she stresses. ‘My fans make fun of me – it’s really cool. They have all these Gifs of me making an idiot of myself or tripping and falling on stage. They bring humour back into it for me. I get too serious sometimes – you can probably tell – and they bring me back to like, “OK, I’m not really doing anything that difficult. I just need to calm down.” ’

 Performing on The Voice, 2014. PHOTO: Getty

Based on what she learns from ‘lurking’ on their social-media profiles, Swift has made fans post-break-up playlists, paid off their student loans and sent gifts for Christmas and Valentine’s Day, accompanied by handwritten notes. You would assume she has people to do this for her, but she insists she does it all herself (‘I don’t take it to FedEx, but I pack the box and tape it – I have so much bubble wrap in my house!’).

‘I love them,’ she says of her fans. ‘They are cool and smart and hilarious and focused on the right things. I want to make the most of this cultural relevance or success or whatever you want to call it, because it’s not going to last. I have to be as good a person [as I can] while my name matters to them. Because it’s not always going to matter to kids who are 15 and really struggling with who they want to be or [because] their friends were brutal to them at school that day. That’s actual turmoil. I have to do everything I can to make their day better while I still can. [Sending presents] is fun for me. If I go a week without sending something, I start to feel sad. I’m getting to know them on a person-by-person basis. When I pick people to send packages to, I go on their social-media sites for the last six months and figure out what they like or what they are going through. Do they like photography? I’ll get them a 1980s Polaroid camera. Do they like vintage stuff? I’ll go to an antiques place and get them 1920s earrings. Do they work out a lot? I’ll get them workout stuff. When you actually get to know them on a person-by-person basis, you realise what you’re doing is special and sacred and it matters.’

 With her mother at the Grammy Awards, 2010. PHOTO: Getty

It is impossible to imagine other pop stars spending time doing all this. Can she really be this nice all the time? ‘No, because that’s annoying, too,’ she says, laughing. ‘And it’s not real if someone appears to never have any issues with anyone. I have my friends, I have enemies. I have bad days when I don’t want to go to a photo shoot, but I’m not going to show up four hours late, I’m going to be there on time. I’m not nice all the time but I try not to be carelessly rude to people who don’t deserve it.

‘When I’m with my friends, we don’t say glowing things about everybody,’ she says, grinning conspiratorially. ‘We’re not sitting around going [adopts Stepford Wives-esque voice and posture], “You know who’s really special and wonderful?” That’s not what we talk about – we’re normal girlfriends.’

But just whom they might be talking about in that way, Swift is not prepared to share. The gossip sites’ one-time fascination with her love life may have been temporarily frustrated, but it threatens to be replaced by interest in her apparent feud with Katy Perry, the rumoured subject of a track on 1989, Bad Blood. ‘I’m not giving them anything to write about,’ she says, smiling steelily. ‘I’m not walking up the street with boys, I’m not stumbling out of clubs drunk. But I’m never going to talk about her in my interview. It’s not going to happen.’

 Taylor with Karlie Kloss at a Victoria Secrets show in London last December. PHOTO: Getty

Instead, Swift is concentrating on trying, in her words, ‘to create a beautiful life’. That life would appear to have no room in it for a significant other right now. She likes to ‘play the tape of her life forward’ when she’s making decisions. But ask her what the tape looks like if you fast-forward five years and she seems less certain. ‘I’ll be 30,’ she gasps. ‘I’ll probably still be single, let’s be honest. No one’s going to sign up for this and everything that goes with it. Like, “Hi, nice to meet you, want a date? Do you love camera flashes? I hope you do!” I don’t know what’s going to happen if I’m ever content in a relationship – no idea how that’s going to work,’ she continues, still smiling. ‘I don’t even know if that’s possible with the life I have.

‘“In five years’ time she’ll be so afraid of everything, she doesn’t leave her house,”’ she says, laughing self-mockingly. ‘“She’s just surrounded by cats. So many cats, they’ve divided themselves up into armies and she wanders around lint-rolling the couch that no one’s going to sit on because she’s afraid to have people over…”’

Singing at a baseball game in 2009. PHOTO: Getty

Swift is not even sure she’ll have made another album by the time 2020 rolls around. ‘I’m not going to put out an album until I’ve made one that’s better than this one and that’s going to be really hard,’ she says. And how might her music evolve if she does find love? ‘If that does happen, I think I could find complexity in happiness,’ she says. ‘I don’t think anything’s ever simple. Just because you’re happy in a relationship doesn’t mean that there aren’t moments of confusion or frustration or loneliness or sadness. Hopefully, if I ever find some sort of meaningful relationship, I’ll be able to still find inspiration, just through the everyday ups and downs.’

For now, though, her life is mapped out indefinitely. As we start to leave she runs through her schedule for the rest of the day: watch the fan reaction videos to her latest batch of gift-giving, work out, go to a dress-fitting, more meetings, then a pre-Grammy party. Tomorrow she will attend the actual Grammys with her best friend from high school, Abigail Anderson, a charity worker. (Despite three nominations – record of the year, song of the year, and best pop solo performance, all for Shake It Off – she won’t add to her four Grammys, but will still look as if she’s having more fun than anyone else.) She has a Brit Awards performance to plan and a new single (Style) to release. The 1989 World Tour kicks off in May, including a date at the British Summer Time Festival in Hyde Park in June.

‘I used to think it was important to find a boyfriend,’ she says before politely taking her leave. ‘But I don’t feel that it is now. I just want to have as much fun and as many adventures as possible.’ And for once, you suspect, she really doesn’t need to worry.

1989 is out now on Big Machine. The 1989 World Tour comes to Britain in June

[wickedgamesoyaoya]

❧ 6. Stray Cat

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❧  A/N: Sooo what are we feeling so far, ya'll!

"The weather keeps on getting worse, huh?"

Concern had the black-haired male's mouth twitching into a partial frown. Above him, strokes of light animated the sky in a battle that had even frightened away the stars. The sounds of the aerial conflict was startling too - to say the least. The rumbling was enough to mimic a minor earthquake, which was why Kuroo was considering abandoning his plans for the night. A single kilometre remained on his journey, but the streets were now flooding and his desire to attend a party in soaked clothes was close to 0.

For a moment, he had to wonder, just who angered the Gods above? As this was perhaps the worst storm he had witnessed in his entire lifetime. Okay, 25 years may not seem much to most - but it's two decades and a half!

After exhaling an elongated breath, he managed to convince himself to continue a bit longer. Kenma seemed to desire his presence, and there was also Koutarou who had almost separation anxiety. The thought had him chuckling lowly to himself. And as for his clothes, someone would lend him something, right?

Eh, that was a problem for when he actually arrived.

The pathway to classroom H9 was mostly deserted, although he did pass by a few stragglers rushing to find shelter. The scowls on their faces and the curses uttered under their breath had Kuroo shaking his head with a faint smile.

The rain appeared to be the primary adversary for the students of Sacred Arms Academy today.

Well, except for one.

A lone occupant could be observed on the bench ahead, sitting with her head against the backrest. What stunned Kuroo was that she was simply accepting the disastrous climate. From his current vantage point, he could not make out whether or not her eyes were open. However, he could see clearly that her face was taking most of the brute force of the rain.

The scene resembled a painting; one that would cause viewers to pause and ponder what exactly happened to the subject of the work. Was she heartbroken? Was she lost? Or was she purely insane? Or was it something beyond the average person's comprehension?

Before Kuroo's mind could catch up to his feet, he was already moving towards you. Whether it was sympathy or the pull of curiosity, he did not know. And as he proceeded closer, a strange thought occurred to him - was she hiding her tears in the rain?

The identity of the person only registered when he was stood right beside you. Mikage Y/N. Reo's older sister. The one the younger male was worried about.

Upon closer examination, it was easy to determine that you were outside for at least 15 minutes. Not an inch of your face or body was spared from the wrath of the harsh weather. Mascara was smudged on the corner of your eyes, and yet you still somehow looked breathtaking. Truly a worthy subject for a piece of art.

"I'm pretty sure you're supposed to use an umbrella when it rains." Kuroo shifted the umbrella within his grasp as he leaned in, it was large enough to cover you both to a degree. But he was content with getting a bit of rain on himself now. Perhaps, you inspired him just a bit.

Your heavy eyelids flutter open when you hear the unfamiliar male's voice. If you were in a different mental state, you probably would have been startled to see a handsome man peer down at you. But after enduring your father's latest lesson, you were defeated and desired nothing more than to drown in the rain devastating the city.

"I didn't ask for your kindness." Your attention lazily flickers to the umbrella now sheltering you before returning to the man ahead. He's staring so intently with curiosity twinkling in his irisies. And all you can do is return his interest with an empty glare.

"There are some things you don't have to ask for." Although he was hesitant for a second, a playful smile tugged at the end of his mouth. "And I'd be a pretty big asshole to ignore a stray cat without an umbrella." He had prayed silently that his teasing remark would at least earn him a smile. Or even a crack in your cold facade.

Oh, he was surely mistaken.

"I'm not an animal that needs saving." To catch the male off guard, you lifted yourself from the bench suddenly, causing him to stumble a step back. Surprise morphed instantly into amusement as he took in your unusual stance. "And let me give you a warning, since you clearly need it. Unnecessary kindness can kill. You're going to school with cutthroat assholes, you might as well learn to behave like one too."

Despite the pellets of liquid colliding with your body, you crossed your arms over your chest protectively. Sure, you probably came across as a lunatic. But it was better that way. Nothing in this life came free. Everything came packaged with expensive price tags, and you were exhausted from continuously paying the price.

"Anyway. Please stop looking at me like that. I also didn't ask for your pity, and I don't deserve it either." Pressing your teeth together, tension formed along your jawline.

Just why was this man so interested in you? Why had he not left yet? Why was he still standing there, watching you with those damn eyes?

"I'm not sure what you're talking about and why you're so angry. But accepting help in a shitty moment isn't a bad thing. It doesn't make you weak." Honestly, Kuroo had no standing to attempt to reason with you. Yet he found himself rooted in his spot and overcome with a desire to comfort you. It probably had to do with the moment earlier, when you secured gazes. He had never come across someone with eyes that displayed true and unadulterated sorrow. And while he knew virtually nothing about you, his chest was overcome with heartache.

No one should have to suffer that much.

"I didn't ask to be taught a lesson. I've had quite enough of those. And I understand the world well enough." Why were needless words spilling from your lips easily to a stranger? Even that question puzzled you. Did you not just spend an entire week avoiding conversation with your colleagues?

The only reasonable possibility was that your father's manipulation had commenced its reign over your mind. His desire - no.

His instructions were for you to become a socialite, one that everyone envied but no one was able to touch. A lethal individual truly, one that every man knew to remain clear of. It had appeared your two-minute conversation with the gamer had reached your father's ears, and he was rather displeased. That was why much of his lecture focused on how a lady is to behave around men.

And the person in front of you was certainly a man, and an incredibly attractive one. Not that it mattered.

Right now, you appeared as a damsel in distress. When in reality, this was a form of suffering you had chosen.

"So, I'd suggest that you go on your way and stop looking for people to save. Because clearly your hero radar is broken." This was the final thought you had selected to vocalize. It was enough to repel any ordinary person. Who would want to waste their time on an ungrateful bitch?

Right?

"Wow, my hero radar." A hand was sent to his chest to feign hurt from the strange insult. However, by this point, your back was turned towards him and you were already starting to walk away from the scene. It was peculiar just how confident your strides were despite the fact you were undoubtedly soaked and shivering.

Internally, the voice of rationality suggested that he leave you alone from now on. But it was the other voice that was much more convincing.

For some bizarre reason, he felt compelled to seek you out again. And based on the whispers in the hallways, he knew exactly how to make your paths cross again.

TAGLIST: @boosyboo9206 @hunnie-lily @valleyofheartz @pearl-blue-musings @moonlit-mizukage @lilith412426 @veecynii @aquariarose

[undiscovered-horizon]

hi! hope you’re doing good :) can I request a morpheus x reader where reader is stressed and busy with uni or work, she's been away from the dreaming for a while and she's not been with morpheus at all, so he's worried but at the same time he misses her attention, so he goes in the waking world, tries to distract her until she gaves up and decides to follow morpheus into the dreaming? thank u!

[MASTERLIST] | [Sandman-inspired playlist]

It was a sudden thought, really. Morpheus was in the midst of tending to his royal duties when a question popped up in his head: when was the last time he saw you? A feeling of dread told him that it's been quite a while - a suspiciously too long while. If he wore a watch, he would have checked the hour like any lover does when their object of desire is late to the silently scheduled intimacy they should be sharing. But he didn't, so he settled for a more hands-on investigation:

Your desk was littered with papers and books. The air in the room was stuffy, drenched with the smooth aroma of strong coffee and spring onion that definitely had something to do with the opened packaging of flavoured matza sitting on the edge of your desk.

"What are you doing?"

The sound of his voice startled you. "Jesus Christ, learn to knock," you said with a groan. Looking at Dream's surprised face, a pang of guilt resounded in your chest. "Sorry, you don't deserve that. I'm studying."

"Studying?" he repeated while giving the mess surrounding you a once-over. The book you were quite literally falling asleep on was thick enough to be considered a weapon.

"Yeah, I pulled an all-nighter and I'm still nowhere near done." Visibly having no strength in your limbs, you turned the page. Mechanically, Morpheus read the title of the chapter. Although he understood the separate words, he had absolutely no idea what they meant when put together. It was insulting, really, to think that this was more important to you than him.

Morpheus pushed the textbook away from you and closed it, keeping his hand on top of it. "You need rest."

"I'll sleep after sitting this exam." Unsuccessfully, you tried to pry the book from him. Even if he was human, in your state you'd be unable to swipe a lollipop from a toddler.

"I can not allow this."

"And I can not fail," be it anxiety, frustration, exhaustion or everything at once, your voice broke as though you were about to cry, "so we're going to have to agree to disagree on this one."

"No, we shan't."

Before you could fully comprehend what he was doing, Morpheus was carrying you to bed. You wiggled awkwardly, hoping to get out of his embrace and continue your fight against the syllabus but, once again, he proved to be stronger.

"Please," you whined in a tired, desperate voice. His thoughts almost slipped away into something quite unsultry. "I really need to read a few pages more before I can rest. I haven't done even half of what I had planned for today," the longer you spoke the more you felt tears stinging your eyes, "this is going really bad, I'm so going to fail an-"

Your rant was cut short when Morpheus dropped you on your bed. Shortly after, he lay there with you only he found himself on top of you, in a devious attempt to stop you from getting up and reaching for that textbook (he never hated a book until now). His generally skinny physique was a curious lie - there was no way you could scramble from underneath his weight but maybe, as your exhausted mind pondered, you were fine with that.

"Sleep," he demanded.

Whether it was the cosiness of your bed or the inexplicable security and comfort his presence provided, you felt your eyelids becoming heavier and soon it was awfully difficult to keep your eyes open. This was the last chance to bargain. "Come on, Morpheus, don't be like this. I want that degree and that means I have to work hard."

"Do not make me force you."

A heavy sigh left your nostrils. Maybe a short nap would do you well, actually? You felt his breath on your cheek. Although you didn't see his face, you were sure Morpheus was intensely watching your profile - your greyish skin, bags under your eyes and dirty hair. Out of all the wonders in this universe, he was desperate to admire just that. His hand was gently caressing the other side of your face and for a moment you wondered whether he knew that it would lull you to sleep.

When you had clearly given up on defying him, Morpheus moved slightly off you, only to wrap his legs and arms around your body. Intentionally or not, his lips rested against your temple. He was like a child, desperately clinging to their favourite plushie after it had been gone for ages (3 hours, washing and tumble drying). It was something both of you needed, even if you required some convincing to realize that. When you wake up, he'll still be clinging on to you but then he might begin considering letting go. Whether it's good or bad, it won't be an easy haggle.