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chleem · 16 days ago

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Flashing Lights #6

Series; actor Drew x actress reader

Summary: Drew gets involved in the worst scandal of his career. One way to solve it? Proving to the whole world that he’s the sweetest lover to exist. Who better to help than the one person he can’t stand? You, an A class actress with an alcohol addiction. So, will Drew clear up his reputation, or leave with a bigger mess to clean up?

Genre: fake dating, enemies to lovers(?, slow burn, angst, smut,

Warning: mentions of alcohol, swearing, mentions of k!lling oneself, mentions of rape & sa, mentions of drug usage, smoking & vaping,

⋆.˚ please dont copy my work, if inspired please tag me

⋆.˚ this is entirely fictional, if uncomfortable then don't read

♡⸝⸝ chapter5 | index | chapter7 soon!

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Mid-May 2024

It’s just you and Drew now.

Laura left after getting the two of you settled in this hotel room, explaining how your stylists would be here in less than an hour, Vogue coming over to film a getting-ready vlog.

You anxiously stand by the window, looking down to the city. It was beautiful; but your anxiety didn’t let you appreciate it. You wanted a smoke. A drink too.

The no-smoking sign on the table catches your eye, and you look at the ceiling. Smoking detectors were on it. Fuck. So, you reach for the alternative.

You pick the room cell up, typing the number to the lobby.

But Drew hangs it up, then grabs the cell from you. You look at him, pissed. “What? That was important,” you lie, but it was partially true, you needed alcohol to settle yourself.

“Really?,” he says, putting the cell back. He glares down at you, as if you stole his money or something. “I’m not letting you.”

You let his words hang in the air, sharp and defiant.

Instead, you reach for the room cell again.

Drew harshly grabs your wrist, which you immediately shake yourself out of. “Hey. What’s your fucking problem?” You ask impatiently.

“That’s what I should be asking,” he replies. After a few seconds, he talks again. “Why would you go out with him?”

Oh. So he’s asking about what happened last week.

It was nothing. You met Theo at the grand prix, who was surprisingly friendly. The two of you weren’t alone on the yacht; there was a small party before it. Theo and you just stayed longer, and the media made it seem like it was like that the whole night.

Of course, you were too drunk to remember the details of what happened when it was just the two of you, but from the pictures; yeah, it was really bad. Your PR team gave you a hard scolding for that, and even fines for breaking one of the terms on the contract.

You cross your arms, holding your head high. You didn’t do anything wrong; Drew’s intimidating stare won’t break you; nothing will. “I didn’t go out with him.”

“Does he know that?” His voice unable to hid the mockery behind them.

“Of course.” Lie. Maybe a lie.

“Y/n.”

“What? I can’t answer for him. But I know it wasn’t a date.”

“Right, two people of the opposite sex alone, on a yacht-“

“Not a date-“

“With wine, table candles, food-“

“Not a fucking date-“

“Touching each other? Smiling like he’s the funniest shit ever-“

“Fucking shut up, Drew,” you say, slightly louder than him. What he’s going on about, is just stupid. You already got scolded by the PR team, you didn’t need another person telling you you fucked up.

Drew does shut up, but only for a few seconds. “Fine, then what really happened, y/n? Tell me, tell me and I’ll believe it.”

You look at him.

“Why should I fucking tell you?”

The anger in your voice isn't just directed at him; it's a mix of frustration and confusion, the feeling that you shouldn't owe anyone an explanation, least of all him.

Drew’s eyebrows furrow even harder, his tongue poking against his cheek. You go on; ignoring how you’re filling up his anger meter. “All you need to fucking know is that it wasn’t a date. Fuck, why are you even talking to me about this? It’s not part of the contract, it’s not part of-“

“Contract?” He interrupts, looking at you in confusion and disbelief, as if your point of view was absolutely shit. “What does this have to do with-“

“That’s the whole reason you’re here-“

“What the fuck does the contract have to do-“

“Every fucking thing, Drew. The contract has everything to do with you being here. You don’t even care-“

“I do care,” he answers quickly, but you scoff. “Otherwise, I wouldn’t be talking to you-“

“Really? You do care? What do you care about?”

“You,” he exclaims, his features softening.

Bullshit. “Your fucking reputation, you mean?”

He shakes his head, a smile on his lips. You furrow your eyebrows, feeling pissed that he’s laughing. “What-“

“You’re unbelievable, y/n,” he starts, and suddenly, his aura feels cold, different from earlier when it was just pure anger. “Why can’t you just explain the situation to me? Huh?”

“I don’t want to,” you tell him, lowering your voice. No. You won’t- can’t tell him.

“Okay, because I might not care?” He asks, ignoring what you want to add on. “If I really didn’t, why would I ask?”

Drew’s blue eyes make you want to yield everything to him. There’s a bit of comfort in his eyes, behind all the anger, “because…because you’re just another co-star I meet. You don’t really care.”

You continue to stare into his eyes, challenging him to disagree.

“But I do.”

He says it so faintly, that it felt like the words were your hallucinations. But he did say it. Well, too bad you weren’t one to be swayed easily by words. “Stop lying, Drew. It just makes you look stupid.”

You brush past him and reach for the room cell. You needed like, five bottles of wine to move past this. To even survive the film festival later.

But Drew stops you yet again. “Let go of me,” you threaten, shrugging his hands off your wrist.

He doesn’t budge, even after saying it a second time.

“Why can’t you can’t understand basic shit?” You snap, finally shaking him off and putting the cellphone back.

If you knew your next insult towards him would end badly for you, you wouldn’t have said it. “You’re so insufferable to be around, you know that?”

Drew stares at you, furrowed eyebrows back in place.

What was he thinking of now? Thinking about a better insult? Thinking about all your flaws? It’s evident that he wants to say something mean about you.

“What? What were you going to say?” You ask, getting impatient. “Say it. I’m sure whatever you’re thinking, they have it worse for me.”

His lips form a small frown, but his eyes stay mean, staring down at you.

Okay. Now this was annoying. Suddenly, he doesn’t feel like talking?

“Do you need help forming it?” You tease, stepping closer to him. His eyes flicker fast to your lips, before back into your eyes. “Let me give you a few ideas. Druggie, coke-head, slut, oh, wait, BBC said something about me once. It was-“

“I don’t think of you that way.”

“Your face says otherwise.”

“You think of yourself that way.”

“What?” You scoff yet again.

“You could be so much better, y/n. But instead, you let yourself rot,” Woah, what is he talking about? “Always getting drunk, smoking your lungs out, and putting on this- this sloppy attitude. You give up on yourself when other people haven’t. Why- why the fuck would you do that? Y/n, why are you treating yourself this way?”

His words throw you off track. It’s the first time someone has said this type of stuff to you.

You swallow hard, your throat running dry. For the first time in a while, you feel exposed. His words hit you like a punch to the gut, unexpected and hard. You freeze, unsure of how to react, how to process what he’s saying.

“Why do you make yourself so insufferable?”

You want to hate him for making you feel this way, for making you feel like you're doing something wrong by existing this way. But you can’t. He’s right, isn’t he?

Even with the constant buzz stinging your mind, you still refuse to show weakness. You refuse to show that his words have impact on you. “No; you make me insufferable in your eyes. You hate me, you hate how I bring more trouble to you-“

“I don’t hate you-“

“You hate how you’re stuck in this situation with me, but you know that only I can help you out-“

“Maybe, but I realized-“

“You stick around and then act like you care-“

“How many times do I have to tell you I do care about you-“

“You’re just like the rest, Drew!” You yell over him. He shuts up, looking at you with furrowed brows. “The fame, the money, the people I can bring you, that’s what you care! You’re just waiting for your payoff. ”

The contract again. That fucking contract mentioned again.

You see his Adam’s apple move, his features softening.

The doorbell rings, probably the stylists. You look away from Drew, hugging yourself tight, to keep yourself together.

He brushes past you, going to open the door.

The crew starts filing in, talking and setting up like nothing’s wrong. The noise feels like a wall around you, a barrier between what just happened and the performance you have to put on.

You glance around. Drew’s gone.

He must've left.

——

You tried your best to make Drew’s words leave your mind.

You drank a bottle and smoked half a vape in a the last few hours while getting ready, and still, his words left a scar on you. You couldn’t believe yourself either, affected by Drew’s fake concern for you.

“Give it to me, y/n, we’re arriving.”

Laura’s talking about the vape in your hand. You take on last breath, before handing it over to her. “This dress is uncomfortable,” you comment while puffing out the smoke. This dress was very tight.

“You look beautiful,” Laura says, and a part of you wonders if she actually means it. “Now, the cast is already moving along the carpet, you’re the last one.”

“Where’s Drew?” You couldn’t help but ask, knowing that you only attended the Cannes’ film festival to be seen with him.

“Right… there,” she points out the window. You see Drew, in a black suit that matches your dress, signing and happily taking photos with fans. He looked… fine.

“Ready?” Laura asks, once the car stops.

It was your first time at the Cannes film festival. You’ve always declined because of your ‘schedule’, but really, it was because of your anxiety. The flashing lights, the disrespectful questions, and audience that have high expectations. These reasons are mainly why you’ve always declined award shows, festivals, or any kind of event that required you to interact with people. “Yeah,” you force out.

Laura opens the door, and steps out first. You take her hand when getting out, and while adjusting your dress, multiple cameras flash. The industry never changed, has it?

Once you’re done adjusting your dress, you smile at the cameras, waving at them nicely. The lights are blinding, but you’ve trained yourself to not flinch to them.

You walk down the red carpet, until you reach where Drew was. Of course he noticed you, all the photographers were shouting, hoping that you would stare at their cameras.

He says bye to fans, before walking over to you.

He doesn’t say anything to you, and you don’t either.

Drew simply takes your hand and puts it on his inner forearm. You purposely grip tight, hoping to cause physical pain to him.

The two of walk side by side until you reach the middle, stopping for photos to be taken.

Drew wraps his arm around your waist, standing closely to you. You pretend something is wrong with his collar, smiling while adjusting it. You meet his eyes, and you just smile even more; acting. He smiles at you too; acting.

Acting. Act. Act. Act.

He whispers in your ear, making sure to get close enough so photographers don’t catch his lips. “You smell like grapes.” Oh. His breath hits your neck, and you feel your goosebumps rise.

He moves away, looking at you lovingly; acting.

You pat his chest and smile at him lovingly; acting.

The photographers’ camera’s flash doesn’t stop, not even for a brief moment. All eager to capture every movement of this couple. Little did they know, while the both of you posed lovingly next to each other, hours ago a catastrophic fight happened.

After a few more seconds which felt like minutes, one of the staff informs you to move up the stairs, where your other cast members were waiting for you.

As you make your way toward the stairs, Drew’s hand hovers close to your lower waist, almost like a protective gesture. The warmth of his palm against your skin is an odd comfort, and for a moment, you forget everything else—the argument, the tension, the walls you’ve built up between you.

When you turn your back to the cameras, the weight of the moment hits you. The flashing lights and fake smiles are just a blur now. You face him, your words soft but certain. “You’re right.”

He blinks, taken aback, and lifts his hand, waiting for you to take it. “What?”

You meet his eyes, swallowing down the mess of emotions swirling inside. For a brief second, you think about pulling away, about keeping the distance. But instead, you take his hand, letting it slip into his.

You raise the hem of your dress slightly, your steps becoming more deliberate as you climb the stairs. “You’re right,” you repeat, your voice steady, almost as if saying it out loud makes it real. “About everything.”

"Y/n, why are you treating yourself this way?"

“But, the industry shaped me to be this way. I don’t know any other way,” you confess, looking at the stairs while saying this.

The two of you reach where your co-stars were, and you let go of his hand.

The director of this movie, which is about the working class in the 1800s, makes space for you in the middle, urging you to stand next to him.

It was the director’s first work, so he was very eager to have his main leads stand next to him. Not only that, but because of your performance in this film, today, it was nominated for numerous categories.

You do, and smile at the camera with the director’s arm around you.

“I thought you wouldn’t come,” the male lead, whispers to you, a smile on for the photos. “You never come.”

“This one’s special,” you reply, referring to Drew.

He must’ve thought you were talking about the movie, “good thing I persuaded you to take the role.”

The flashing continues, but the staff informs that it was time to head inside. You turn around expecting Drew to wait at the top for you, but he wasn’t.

You hide your disappointment, seeing your co-star offer his hand. “I believe we’re sitting together?”

“Yes,” you smile, taking his hand.

The two of you walked up the stairs with the rest of the crew, and into the main venue.

——

The standing ovation lasted around ten minutes. Yet, felt like eternity.

The sound of clapping fills the room, surrounding you, and for once, it’s not just noise. It’s recognition. It’s validation.

It felt…extraordinary. Like something out of a dream. You couldn’t believe how many you’ve missed out on. You want to soak it all in, to savor the moment, but a part of you can’t help but wish you weren’t alone in it.

Your co-stars would stare or blow kisses at their loved ones, whispering thank you to them. But you? No one. Not even your ‘boyfriend’, who was gone from the start of the night.

Even when going up to receive awards, you wished you had someone special to dedicate your speeches or awards to. Or someone you could lock eyes with in the crowd.

You had no one.

Drew was still gone, and you soon realized, he was gone the entire night.

——

You push through the door, finally getting it open after multiple tries.

You immediately fall to the ground, your legs and arms giving up. You laugh, still a bit drunk even after sleeping in the car.

“Where were you?”

Your blurry eyes squint at the source, and you see Drew. He’s sitting on the couch, half naked and hair still wet. “I should be asking you that,” you smile, the alcohol in your veins making it hard to control your features. “I missed you.”

It wasn’t you talking; obviously the alcohol talking. Drew knew that, because he walks over and stands in front of you. “Where’ve you been?”

You look down at his toes. They’re funny. “Hey, your toes are-“

“Where the fuck did you go?” He asks more firmly this time.

You look up at him. His jaw is tight, brows furrowed in something between concern and irritation. But all you can feel is the burn in your chest, the strange weight of his question. “Why do you care?”

It comes out cold, defensive, but his eyes soften, just a little, as if he’s already heard the answer, as if he knows the real reason why he does care.

He bends down to grab your arm. He helps you up, placing your arm over his shoulder. You’re too tired to protest; letting him place you on the couch. He walks away, but he comes back with a bottle of water, a trash can, and some pills.

“Hey, drink some water,” he says, his hand going behind your neck, as he helps you sit up.

His hand is always so warm. Why?

His thumb rubs the back of your neck while you drink the water, surprisingly, you find it comforting. You finish half of it, before handing it back to him. “Wanna tell me where you went?” He asks you much more gentler this time.

“The afterparty,” you reply, as Drew removes his hand from the back of your neck. The warmth disappears, and you actually feel sad. “Your turn.”

“I stayed in here,” he confesses. His voice turns quieter now, almost hesitant. “I didn’t want to see you.”

Just because of that, he leaves? What a selfish dick. “I didn't want to see you either, but did you see me leave? No.”

“And I’m sorry,” Drew apologies. You look into his eyes, and see the sincerity in them that can’t be faked.

“I felt so stupid,” you continue, “The only person I knew was you.”

Drunk you could talk about whatever you wanted, and no one could stop you. “I know you hate me, but couldn’t you have stuck around? You only had to watch me, you didn’t need to do anything else.”

A tear falls down your cheek. It feels almost foreign, as if your body is betraying you, allowing a moment of vulnerability you didn’t expect, one that you didn't know you were capable of outside of a scene, outside the cameras.

You quickly wipe it away. “I would’ve never done that to you.”

And you meant it.

“I’m sorry,” he apologizes again, the only right thing to say right now.

Silence lingers in the air, the two of you staring down at the floor.

“It was my first time experiencing a standing ovation,” you start, giving him a soft smile. He sends you one back, a faint, quick smile. “No wonder why people like going to award shows.”

“You’ve never been to one?” He couldn’t help but ask.

“During the first few years. But after that… overdose incident, I wasn’t in the right state to attend public events,” you feel your voice shake; the memories of that night coming back to you. “Not only was I afraid, but so were the executives.”

You’ve never told any in showbiz about your drug overdose incident. Why are you telling him? Maybe, there was just something about Drew that made you want to.

And sure, everyone knew, from the media, where things are often exaggerated and vilified. But, did anyone bother hearing it from you?

This incident changed your entire life. To others, it was just hot gossip.

“Have you ever had a standing ovation for you?” You change the topic, his lack of response worrying you.

“No; but it sounds amazing,” Drew says. “I’ll…I’ll look for you when I do.”

There's something in his voice, though, something that almost feels like a promise.

“Will that time even come?” You decide to tease him instead, uncomfortable with how cheesy this is going.

“Sooner than you think,” he winks at you, before glancing down at the pill. “Take one after you shower; you’ll feel better in the morning.”

“Yeah,” you murmur, before looking towards the bathroom. “I stink, don’t I?”

“Not the worst you’ve stunk,” he comments, and you roll your eyes.

“Whatever,” you get up, but way too fast, making you almost stumble. Drew holds onto your arm, steadying you.

“Need help?”

“I can manage,” you breathe out, shaking his hand off and walking over to the bedroom. You spot your suitcase, opening it and taking a shirt and underwear. You see the bed, realizing that it’s yet another one-bed situation. You peek out the bedroom door, and Drew immediately turns his face over to you. “Um, you can have the bed if you want.”

Shyly, you close the door, ending the conversation.

——

Drew slept on the couch that night, without any protests.

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word count: 3.5k

ִ ࣪𖤐 a/n: a lot to take in for this chapter...phew

i have a one shot idea coming up, so look forward to it! same as usual, thx for reading, and sry for the long update (ignore my mistakes). i try writing as much as i can, but schedule doesnt allow it T_T

ps, is this a safe space? um, i was kinda losing motivation for this series a couple of days ago. but, i saw the taglist, and the ending i planned for this series. so, safe to say i got to writing!

#drew starkey #drew starkey imagine #drew starkey x reader #fiction #angst #drew starkey x you #actor #actress #series #fake dating #enemies to lovers #flashing lights #chapter 6

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gothgril69 · 1 year ago

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Levi Ackerman/Fem!Reader Royalty!AU

Summary: You dream of another life, a simpler one under the rays of the warm sun, where you find love and your brothers live happily.

But you're destined to serve, to be the black sheep of the family and married off to whoever your father pleases because your parents can't seem to harbor any love for you. Your brothers will serve in the war, side by side with their Chevaliers, and you'll be left to pick up the pieces or die trying.

And the one you thought always hated you, will be right by your side to catch you when you fall.

Overall Warnings: themes of sexism, minor character death, angst, depression, minor character death, smut (please check ao3 for all tags)

Chapter warnings: none

Chapter Length: 9.5k

Next Chapter

ao3 link

Notes:

Thank you so much for starting a fic of mine <3 There's a few things I wanted to say before you get started.

-Reader has a default name of Aeron Reader. It plays into the story and that is why this is tagged appropriately as Levi/OC, but it is written in second person and all details relating to the female mc/reader are very vague. I do try to account for different hair types/skin tones and therefore leave it vague on purpose. -This is loosely based on 18th century conflict between France, England, and Scotland. Mirlenas represents France, Kaslogon represents England, and Navarre Scotland. There are historical accuracies but also inaccuracies for creative freedom regarding certain things. -I have been sitting on this fic since October 2022, and am just now posting it because I am way too hard on myself

I hope you enjoy <3 gothgril

Your parents always wanted another boy.

Your older brothers, Auguste and Theo, were the kingdom’s prized heirs to the throne, certain to fill your ancestors shoes to the fullest. You were supposed to be like them; supposed to be another boy that would marry and extend the family tree of royalty for the kingdom of Mirlenas.

Your mother carried you the same as your brothers; tummy hanging low, heartburn, unbelievable back pain. How could you not have been a boy? Your name was picked out for you and everything. All the midwives were prepared to have another boy and decorated your nursery with calming blues and greys to match the kingdom’s colours.

But out came you. A healthy baby girl, bright eyes and a full head of hair. It wasn’t that your parents were unhappy – no, they loved you regardless at the time – they just weren’t prepared. Your name was Aeron, the name picked out for you when they thought you’d be a boy, and you were the new child of the Reader family.

Aeron Reader has an ominous feel to it, the name of the same Goddess of War that comes from stories in your mother’s forgotten origin. Your parents never realized until one day one of the maids was overheard gossiping about it. Overheard hushed whispers about you circulated around the castle.

You were seven years old at the time and not happy about it. You’ve done all the research now about her origin and reputation – you quite like her.

Your mother simply chose to ignore her own heritage of Druvaria ever since she married your father. A deal had been struck between kingdoms and your mother fell victim to becoming the new Queen of Mirlenas, her own father giving her away to make peace between nations. The war had been ongoing for five years and needed to come to an end and finally, someone had come to their senses to offer up the princess of Druvaria in trade for peace. She didn’t know any better, simply believing it was the right thing to do for her nation and had no other choice.

Things did work out in her favor in the end. Your parents fell in love with each other before they even married and mated, telling you the story at least once a year over dinner about it. A bite to the nape of the neck only sealed their fate and ensured they would be mated for life. You’re happy for them, truly, but you know you weren’t a part of their plans.

It was supposed to be three healthy boys, and you felt the seclusion.

Ever since a young age you wanted to be like your brothers, refusing to wear the dresses your handmaidens sewed for you and playing in the grass instead. You distinctly remember being seven years old, covered in grass stains while your mother yelled at you from the courtyard in front of the castle. You had just finished wrestling with Theo, face shoved into the dirt and hair completely disheveled. You could never beat him even though he was only two years older than you – you just didn’t have the strength yet.

You remember your mother’s voice ringing out into the air, “I didn’t have a girl just for you to act like a boy!”

Seems like you can’t do anything right.

You pushed Theo off, angry that he had beaten you again and upset about your mother’s words. Defiance pulsed through you and you only wanted to be less ladylike in spite of her. You had stuck your tongue out at Theo as he did the same to you, Auguste coming over to break the two of you apart before you were tempted to lunge for his throat again. Auguste always seemed to be the voice of reason, calming Theo down with just a look before he’d look down at you with soft brown eyes, his curly brown locks falling slightly in front of them.

Perhaps you shouldn’t choose favorites, but Auguste always had this way about him. He was kind and charming even in his younger years before diplomacy truly got to him. Everyone loved him and he seemed to always know what to say, even sitting in on adult conversations despite his young age. He always knew what to say to make even you feel better.

He had sent Theo away to your mother and grabbed your hand, kneeling down to you so he was eye level. “Theo is just a brat sometimes. Don’t let him get to you, kid,” he had told you with a quick ruffle to your hair. He stood up, making sure he was still holding your hand to walk you inside to clean up. He was already thirteen at the time and strong enough to pick you up, so he’d lift you on top of the private bathroom counter that was located in his room. A soft wet rag would be wiped along your cheeks and nose to clean off the dirt that Theo graced upon your features – a gentle tap of your nose would indicate when he was done and you could jump down.

When you were eight Auguste promised he’d teach you all the things he knew: fencing, archery, horse riding, knife throwing, swordsmanship and even some of the studies Auguste was learning in school. You would do your duties as a princess during the day, pleasing your mother by learning your manners and all things women should know (sewing, cleaning, cooking, botany) and during the evening after dinner you would train with your brother. Occasionally, Theo would join and actually be quite tolerable – that’s where your relationship with him truly started to grow. He’d be serious and want to know everything Auguste did, trying his best to be patient with you as you learned and he would train with Auguste during your own breaks.

When your mother first caught you with them she was livid, claiming that your behavior was “boyish and unflattering” and something along the lines of you being “a disgraceful princess.” You’re almost positive there was more, but your brain has blocked out most of the memory of being talked down to so harshly by one of your parental figures. It’s not like you and your father talked much – he only really entertained Auguste to make sure he was prepared to take the throne one day. You envied Auguste in a way, but you could never hate him for being the golden child. He didn’t choose that life and quite frankly, it must be hard on him as well to carry that burden.

Your life truly changed when an extravagant ceremony was held for a new Chevalier that would be in the castle. The large hall designated for events had Mirlenas’ banners strung high above the grand windows, shrouding most of the light that would enter. Expensive chandeliers were lit, light fixtures along the walls providing warm light to envelop the area. Rows upon rows of people sat and waited for the entrance of the new Chevalier while you sat at the very front of the room. Your mother and father sat in their large wing-back chairs while you and Theo sat on your mother’s left side. Of course, you were given the smallest chair out of everyone. Auguste waited patiently for the entrance of the Chevalier, waiting to make his own appearance to complete the ceremony.

Your brother Auguste was of age to join the kingdom’s military at seventeen and should be accompanied by someone of a higher skill level than him. The one thing you didn’t expect was it to be a fifteen year old boy who looked like he would rather be anywhere else than bowing in front of your parents. You didn’t blame him, you hated all the formal bullshit too.

You had begun daydreaming when his name was announced, only coming to your senses when Theo bumped you so you wouldn’t get chastised later by your mother. The boy was wearing Mirlenas’ colours, navy blue and silver, and was being awarded a broche with the family crest to grace his uniform over his heart. A symbol of his dedication to the kingdom; a set of wings over a shield. The Chevalier formal uniform was tailored to him specifically: a navy blue tailcoat over a grey collared shirt with a white cravat hanging around his neck. You remember when he stood up from bowing to your parents and his piercing grey eyes landed on yours as you sat next to them, a slight furrow of his brows happening in an instant before his sharp features were stoic once again.

You kept your eyes on him when he looked away, analyzing him with a tilted head. You told yourself it was to make sure Auguste would have a proper Chevalier accompanying him, but there was something intriguing about him. His raven black hair was well kept, straight hair layered so most of it fell out of the small tie at the nape of his neck

“Dedicate your heart to not only my kingdom, but my son as well,” your father’s voice had droned on. You refrained from rolling your eyes at the formality of it all, knowing Auguste would never treat his Chevalier as less than him despite your father training him to do so. You had instead fidgeted with your thumbs, messing with the lace on the dress you were forced to wear for the event until your mother gave you one of her looks. The look that told you you’d be getting in trouble later for simply being a young girl with energy that prevented you from staying still at such a boring festivity.

You realized the boy was quite short when Auguste stood next to him, maybe a couple inches taller than you at your age at the time. You hadn’t quite hit puberty yet afterall, your courses hadn’t come yet and your mother seemed adamant about ignoring the inevitable anyway.

You didn’t figure out the boy’s name until days later when Auguste introduced you to him. “Name’s Levi,” he had told you in a bored tone. Your eleven year old self was eager to meet him until he had scoffed at your name. “What is that? A boy’s name?”

You’ve disliked him ever since.

Levi remembers seeing you that day, having no idea the royal family even consisted of a princess along with the other two princes. You were only eleven at the time, but it seemed as if your family was ashamed to have you on display. You were given the smallest chair at the end of the line of royalty, a dress that didn’t look as well sewn as your brother’s uniforms fell on your shoulders. You looked curious, which had intrigued Levi at the time, but incredibly sad in your eyes. He said the first thing that came to mind when Auguste introduced him to you. It was odd for a lady of royal standing to have such a gender neutral name, bordering on masculine, and he didn’t think you would be so offended. He noticed right away you weren’t like other princesses he had met when he noticed you were wearing trousers, stains all over you and hair sticking in every direction.

He had looked at you with such disdain when he saw the grass stains on your trousers or the dirt that was under your nails from wrestling with Theo just moments before. You never acted like a princess and Levi clearly hated that, always on your ass about not acting like a lady and getting so dirty he could “clean the stables and feel better than being next to you.” He’d plug his nose and mock gag at you to emphasize his point when Auguste wasn’t around.

You didn’t truly start to hate him until a boy named Furlan came around as Theo’s Chevalier. He was the same age as Theo, seventeen at the time, while you were fifteen. Your new handmaiden, Isabel, had arrived at the same time as him and quickly became your best friend, but you grew jealous when she became a part of your brother’s friend group consisting of Levi and Furlan as well. You were once again the outcast no matter how hard Isabel tried to get you to join. And you did try at some point, only to be made fun of by Theo and Levi while Isabel and Furlan shyly watched on.

You didn’t blame them. Levi was hard to argue with and Theo was royalty, even if he was just your stupid brother. Auguste was busy training to be the next heir, constantly under your father’s watch and unable to mediate childish arguments between you and your brother anymore.

Luckily, Levi wasn’t around as often as the other three were since he was Auguste’s Chevalier. He would accompany him on any personal affairs or duties he needed to fulfill off of the castle grounds.

Those were your moments of somewhat peace; when your mother would busy Theo with a task and you’d have a chance to spend time with Furlan and Isabel alone. Isabel was only twelve and being taught the proper ways of being a handmaiden, but during her free time she’d make sure you weren’t alone. Furlan ended up just following suit, keeping a watchful eye on Isabel, even though he had always been closer to Levi.

She tended to get herself into trouble, always wanting to bring animals into the home before your mother caught her one day. You had taken the fall for Isabel bringing in an injured dove, enduring the lecture about how “vile” these “creatures” could be. You helped Isabel tend to it’s wing and nursed it back to health before releasing it from your balcony without your mother’s knowledge.

When you were seventeen you started to stay in your room more, only coming out to train your skills in combat. Your mother had given up at this point on trying to make you a lady. You were always wearing trousers paired with at least a corset over your blouse to keep your “womanly figure” as your mother called it. You didn’t give a shit about it, but if you could at least wear trousers then you would do it to spare you from the pain of ridiculous skirts and dresses while you were on castle grounds.

Painting and reading became your new hobbies and you soon only really started to see Isabel when she visited your bedroom.

You were tired of being berated just for existing.

At the time, Levi had secretly missed your presence. He enjoyed picking on you and getting a reaction, sometimes doing it to push your buttons so far that you would yell at him. Isabel would always scold him as if she were his senior, telling him he’s being too harsh on you. You were just such a brat, always picking a fight with him if he didn’t do it first. When you were gone and holed away in your room he felt like there was a presence missing, but he blamed it on being bored while Auguste was busy with your father.

Your large room was lined with bookcases, shelves full with books you’ve read countless times. A few easels were scattered about, a painting resting on each so you could alternate what you were working on while the oils dried on the other two. You had taken down the large navy blue curtains, ripping them down one day to get all of the natural light possible inside of your room and shoving them into a confused handmaiden’s arms in the hallway. You’re positive your mother didn’t know what you did and still doesn’t, probably unaware of the curtain rods that no longer perch above your windows since she never visits your bedroom.

She doesn’t talk to you much. Only Auguste and Isabel know you paint.

Your navy blue blanket and grey sheets hardly ever got any use despite the comfortability of the silk. You wanted to rip down the harrateen that surrounded the four poster bed, but it was too much of a hassle if you weren’t even going to use it. You were never tired, only needing a few hours of sleep to function in your teen years. You’d tend to the fireplace while your mind would always be full of creative ideas, needing to spill them onto a canvas before they would be forgotten.

Auguste tried to get you to come out of your shell more, always asking you at dinner if you would join him for a walk around the castle grounds. Those were your favorite moments. The moments where you could talk to Auguste about anything you needed to, whether that was simply an idea for a painting you had or something more heavy like the way your mom was. He always tried to make you feel better, saying things like “you know mother loves you in her own way” or “father is just busy being king.”

When you told him about how your father had told you to never cry and show weakness when he caught you crying on the rare occasion that he sees you in the halls, Auguste comforted you without making excuses for him. “Father is incapable of human emotion. Everyone cries. Cry if you feel you must,” he had told you, grasping your shoulders to ensure you absorbed every word he said as you stared into those big brown eyes you love so much. Those were the only words that had ever truly made you feel better about your parents.

Things in your life didn’t take another turn until you were twenty. You were a grown woman and done with being kept to your room in fear of being talked down to by family members. You began taking your training more seriously, practically begging Auguste to train you again after dinner instead of going on your walks. He obliged and soon you were exceeding at everything, being especially good at archery. A bow just felt so natural in your hands – you could practically shoot with your eyes closed.

At age twenty-six he still wasn’t married – quite a taboo concept considering your father’s growing age. Auguste didn’t want to marry for duty, he always wanted to marry for love. You had a suspicion he didn’t admire women in the same way as other men – not that you would ever tell a soul. You simply enjoyed that he had more free time than he was supposed to and that he chose to spend it with you.

When you won against him in a fencing match is when you knew you had surpassed his expectations. The look on his face when he took off his mask told you everything you needed to know: he was proud of you. You remember being so happy, tears formed in your eyes before you could stop them, and you ran at your brother, colliding with him in a giant bear hug with full force. Auguste had taken you into your arms and swung you around like you were his whole world – he made you feel like you truly were.

Theo joined in after cheering, causing both him and Auguste to practically absorb you. Levi had been on the sidelines judging the match and you heard his scoff when you won. You were too excited to care at the time.

You were forced to spend more time with Levi when Auguste grew inevitably more busy. Theo had fallen behind in his training and would have private lessons with Furlan. Isabel was kept busy by the older handmaidens, tending to laundry and kitchen duties, leaving you with Levi. You refused to stay locked up in your room unless you were willingly painting or reading, but even now you preferred reading in the gardens so you could get some sunlight on your skin, even if only for a little while.

Auguste had tasked Levi with looking after you while he wasn’t around despite your – and Levi’s – protests. You insisted you were a grown woman and didn’t need someone to watch over you like a lost puppy – Levi just didn’t want to deal with the inevitable attitude that was thrown his way just for being there.

But he wasn’t simply just there. He would make fun of you for your book choices; if something got in your hair and you weren’t aware of it. He had at least given up on getting on your ass about acting like a lady – if anything he seemed to prefer it rather than you fretting about dresses and “frilly things” as he calls them.

“I just can’t pretend to care when they talk to me about how expensive their dresses are or how they bought the best perfume being made right now,” he had droned on to you one evening. Somehow, you had gotten on the topic of the ball that was held a few weeks prior. He was forced to attend with Auguste and “forced” to entertain women even younger than you that were fawning over him and your brother.

You had actually laughed and sympathized with him, sharing your own stories about disgusting older men trying to win your affections. He had cringed when you exaggerated the ugliness of a stout older gentleman with a gut that hung over his belt – the buttons of his shirt were hanging on for dear life.

The man had flirted with you incessantly, hardly ever straying from your side the whole night even as you attempted to excuse yourself – he always found a way to be next to you. You laughed it off, telling Levi it was just the usual for a woman of high status whether you liked it or not. He didn’t say anything that time, only a look of what you think was anger flashed in his eyes before he looked away with a quiet “tch.”

Levi had seen the wretched old man the whole night, ogling you and grimy hands inches away from touching you. He wanted to rip his fingers off for attempting to touch a member of the royal family like that and gouge his eyes out with the nearest fork for staring at you like a piece of meat. He told himself he would only be doing his job protecting a member of the royal family.

Levi had kept a watchful eye on you the whole night, watching you fake laugh at people’s jokes with a smile that never reached your eyes. He had never heard your real laugh before, and he could imagine it wouldn’t sound anything close to the small, half-hearted chuckles you gave out. The only time he ever saw you smile was when you were reading one of your stupid novels or daydreaming without realizing it before something snapped you back to reality.

You had actually felt pretty that night in a dress that was tailored just for you. You had convinced Isabel to go with your wishes of it being simple and less extravagant than your mother’s requests, so when you put it on it felt more appropriate for you. She had been in your bedroom for a whole day taking measurements to alter a gown you already liked a decent amount, asking what you wanted changed about it.

The day of she stood behind you, tugging on the laces of your corset to practically squeeze the life out of you, claiming she needed you to look perfect so your mother wouldn’t have her head. You even had your other handmaidens run you a hot bath with a sachet of lavender from the southern coast of your country.

You’ve made it a habit to bathe with lavender and have lavender oil around to calm your senses, leaving your skin smelling like the flower.

You were now twenty-three. Living the life of royalty that many would dream of.

You weren’t ungrateful for it – you knew how bad the lower class people of the kingdom had it – but you never asked for it. You never asked to be unloved by your parents, watching as your two older brothers received all of the attention. You never asked to be showered in fine silks and paraded around in dresses like you were some animal being put on display for purchase.

You wanted to run away, to live a simple life somewhere in the countryside. You’d make your living using the trades your mother had taught you at a young age. You could protect yourself with the combat skills Auguste had fine-tuned until he could no longer be your teacher. You knew botany and how to grow your own food; live off the land.

You were tired of feeling unwanted by everyone around you. You hardly felt okay anymore, eating only because Isabel forced you to and wouldn’t leave until your plate was empty. You would maybe complete a painting or two once a year now and tea was the only thing you could stomach for breakfast. The only thing that kept you here was your cowardice and getting lost in the stories you read. It could be romances or history, even war stories caught your eye sometimes, but it was something to escape to. Your mind would be occupied by something other than your heavy thoughts that weighed you down, allowing at least some respite.

You wonder if living a simple life would have allowed for you to flourish the way you were supposed to, or maybe if you lived in one of your novels and found love then you could be happy.

But things could never be that simple.

Levi watches you now as you stare off into the distance with that usual faraway look on your features. You’re sitting on a blanket you had sloppily thrown on the ground, one of your knees brushing against the grass and defeating the purpose of the piece of fabric below you. It bothered Levi more than he would care to admit when you did things like this, only committing to them half-heartedly. The forming grass stain glares at him.

He hated being out here with you. It was boring and typically hot in the summer months like it is now, but at least you had chosen the biggest oak tree to find reprieve from the sun’s rays. He simply leaned against the trunk of the tree, observing you when you were busy daydreaming. When you would snap out of it the air would be full of bickering again and he found peace in the silence.

You were wearing your usual black trousers and corset over a blouse, but sat as if you were wearing a skirt. Your hair was pulled back with a ribbon, but some rogue strands fought themselves free and blew in the wind and he fought the urge to either chastise you for it or just fix it himself since you couldn’t do it right.

You perplexed him still, even when the two of you had matured and Levi was now twenty-seven. It was less childish insults and more clever banter between the two of you now. You actually seemed to enjoy wearing dresses on occasion now that your figure suited them and he was even able to smell a hint of lavender oil on your skin whenever the two of you were forced to be too close. You had become a woman, but sometimes Levi still felt like he was looking at the neglected little girl he had first seen at his introductory ceremony.

Your eyes were the same sad ones he had seen that day and you still tended to fidget with the hem of your clothing whenever you were anxious. A genuine smile rarely makes it’s way to your features and he swears he’s only heard you genuinely laugh once with Auguste when he had trailed behind one of your evening walks. He almost pities you until he remembers how easy you truly have it.

You had no idea what it was like to grow up in poverty, never knowing when your next meal was or taking any article of clothing you could because it was the only option. No, you were picky about the clothes you wore and the things you ate and always took them for granted.

You were selfish, making Auguste worry about you all the time and borderline obsessively commanding Levi to make sure you were okay. He would do as he was told, of course, but you never realized how much turmoil you caused in your brother’s mind. Even Theo worries about you now that he’s matured and no longer finds amusement in ruffling your feathers.

The only thing he can understand about you is how big of assholes your parents are and how most of the time he feels the same way you do in their presence: neglected and frowned upon.

Your father commands Levi as if he were a dog while your mother chooses to ignore his presence altogether. He could admit that maybe you weren’t as bad as your parents – he’s watched them throw away untouched food because it had gotten cold (their own fault of course). The first time he had seen it happen he had to bite his tongue, holding back the onslaught of curses and insults he had ready to throw at them. As much as Levi hated them, he never wanted to go back to the slums he grew up in, knowing your father would never do anything to solve the problem. The amount of people in poverty would continue to grow and he could only hope your brother Auguste would do something to change the state of the kingdom once he becomes king.

Levi pulls himself out of his own thoughts when a harsh gust of wind strikes him to remind you about the evening’s events.

“Oi,” Levi snaps his fingers in front of your face. You look up at him, clearly dazed from being pulled out of your daydream and into the real world where you sit on the grass.

The day is bright and sunny as you sit under the cooling shade of the ancient oak tree that sits in the front lawn of the castle, a giant stretch of grass as far as you can see separating you from the rest of Mirlenas. The castle sits on 800 hectares and you enjoy being able to escape the bustling interior of the castle in favor of sitting on the lawn. Your book is open on your lap, but abandoned long ago in favor of daydreaming. You hardly remember what you got lost in thought about.

“Your mother has summoned you,” Levi reminds you. Of course. Your mother and her tendencies to summon you whenever she is in a particularly bad mood, annoys you – going back to your bedroom and painting until the moon is high in the sky sounds significantly more appealing.

You sigh and ignore his outstretched hand, knowing he’s only offering it because of his Chevalier status. He would never willingly touch you – he’s told you as much. Levi scoffs, muttering something along the lines of, “fine, I didn’t want to touch your hand anyway.” You don’t bite back with a response, done with the day already and not looking forward to entertaining your mother’s ridiculous ideas.

“What could she possibly want tonight?” you mostly muse to yourself as you fold up your blanket.

Levi, who follows closely behind, responds, “who knows. Swear she’s growing senile with her old age.”

You stifle a laugh, unwilling to give him the satisfaction, but pleased with his words about your mother. He says things about your father too, but only ever around you. Levi seems to be the only one that recognizes their behavior towards you – or lack thereof – and often criticizes them. You, of course, allow it and he knows it amuses you. However, you and Levi are still not remotely friends, still arguing and often ridiculing each other. The only bonding you have ever done with the man is regarding your positions in the royal family, finding everything to be unnecessary and cretinous. Everything else between the two of you is short and angry, much like the Chevalier that follows you now.

Auguste has been occupied with politics and diplomacy for the past year, giving Levi the order to keep watch on you as he becomes even more busy. It’s something the two of you were already quite accustomed to since he had given the order three years ago when you were twenty. It still isn’t any easier to have him around so often. Bickering is more common than not and he beats you at anything you ask him to do. Except for archery – you’re almost certain no one can beat you at that and you relish in the face Levi makes when you split your arrow on the target almost every time.

But Auguste had insisted Levi stuck by your side now that he couldn’t spend as much time with you. Especially now that a war had broken out between your kingdom and a neighboring nation: Kaslogon. The war had started a year ago, but it barely made a dent in Mirlenas’ forces – not enough for Levi to be sent away to serve as part of the royal guard. Your allies, the country Navarre, were taking most of the heat for it since they resided on the same landmass as Kaslogon – Mirlenas at least had an ocean separating the two countries.

This meant that your father needed to pull Auguste everywhere he went, showing him the ropes of how to wage a war – a seemingly favorite pastime for egotistical men. You missed your evening walks and training sessions, having to force Levi to accompany you outside after dinner.

You hoped this meeting was to simply discuss the current standings of the war. Your mother seemed to over exaggerate with her statements or letters, once summoning you to discuss “dire circumstances” – the castle had just run out of her favorite persimmons and she wouldn’t be able to get anymore until the next winter harvest. It was moments like these when you remembered how absurd it felt to be a part of a royal family that didn’t know anything different. Levi always referred to the lot of you as “spoiled brats.”

He wasn’t wrong, but you would never admit that to him.

“You have a grass stain on your trousers,” Levi informs you with a blank tone.

“Lovely,” you sigh, “I’m sure mother will enjoy it.”

“It’s sloppy.”

“It’s fine.”

You already know your mother will be waiting for you in the dining room after the table has been cleared post-supper. You never bothered to join anymore, finding the comfort of being outside until late evening more enticing instead and having Isabel bring you dinner to your bedroom so you can enjoy her company. She may force you to eat when you don’t want to, but you appreciate her all the same.

Levi always gives you shit for it, telling you it’s disgusting to eat in a place meant for sleeping, but you usually ignore those statements from him. You’re not going to waste your breath to tell him you have a small table on your balcony that you eat your meals at – he wouldn’t understand.

You walk across the grass, your blanket under your arm and Levi following two steps behind you like he’s been taught. “You know it feels like you’re going to murder me when you walk behind me,” you scoff.

“You’re not worth getting hanged for murder,” he mutters. “If I walk next to you and your father sees I’ll only be reprimanded. Plus, you smell.”

You roll your eyes even though he can’t see. “Please, I smell worlds better than you ever do.”

“Now you’re a liar?”

“Honest as ever,” you reply smoothly, lifting your chin ever so slightly.

Your boots touch the dirt road that runs parallel with the front of the castle, crossing it to reach the gravel pathway that leads to the entrance. It’s all very grand compared to it’s surroundings on the outside of it’s gates, an elaborate garden with perfectly trimmed hedges greeting you once the guards open the gate for you.

You always make sure to give them a sweet smile, greeting them by name – Jean and Marco. Jean’s mother is a handmaiden while you believe Marco’s family lives somewhere in a nearby village. They’re sweet boys, at least five years younger than you, but as soon as they see Levi they seem to stand taller than before and look straight ahead. You hate when it happens and always turn your head to see him glaring daggers at the two boys. He gives you a small “tch” today when he sees your glare being directed at him again.

The gates close behind you and you grow impatient. “Please, just walk next to me. You’re making me uncomfortable.”

“I expect you to take the fall for it then if your father sees,” Levi scoffs as he joins you at your side.

“As if I don’t with everything else,” you mutter. He doesn’t respond.

You observe that he’s acting more cordial with you today for some reason and it’s throwing you off balance. You’d rather him bicker with you, not the silence that seems to drape over the two of you more often today.

You step towards the grand, bifurcated staircase in front of you with far too many steps – eighty-six, to be exact, and it feels like it takes a lifetime to walk up them. You’ve counted the pale stones too many times, having nothing better to do on some of your outings.

“twenty-seven…” you mutter under your breath as you walk.

“Are you fucking counting them?” Levi asks incredulously, not minding his language – not that he ever does – since the two of you are practically alone.

“Does it matter?” you snap, looking over at him with a glare. You lost count.

“There’s eighty-six,” he mumbles, seemingly realizing what he said only after it’s come out. You don’t bother to tease him about it, simply enjoying the pink tint to his ears with a small laugh as he looks down at the steps.

The front doors of the castle are opened by another set of guards, Connie and Sasha, and you give the young kids a smile as well. They were definitely bickering before you arrived, seemingly nervous about getting caught by Levi next to you when they stand up straighter. Connie’s eyes are wide and Sasha’s brown locks are slightly disheveled in her updo. You roll your eyes at the sight, but at least he doesn’t say anything to them today about being “more aware of their surroundings” like he usually would. Perhaps he got the hint earlier with Jean and Marco.

You greet the handmaiden standing by the doorway, giving her your blanket to be washed free of any lingering grass and returned on top of your bed before turning down a hall. Levi is still walking next to you, practically escorting you to the dining hall despite being inside the castle walls. “You don’t need to walk me there,” you tell him, eager to free him of his post and rid of his presence. You don’t need another walking headache with you when you visit your mother – one is enough.

“Auguste is joining you and your mother. I’ll be accompanying him afterwards.”

You pause your footsteps, boots slightly squeaking against the polished parquet floors. “What does Auguste have to do with this?”

Levi stops a step ahead of you, turning so he’s at least facing you. “They have news for you,” his voice trails off, laced with hesitancy as he turns his head to the side and avoids your look of confusion. “It’s not my place to tell you, madame.”

You scoff at his formality as a servant walks by. “Don’t call me that,” you grumble as you resume your walk to the dining hall. He knows you hate the use of your titles.

Your heart is racing at the prospect of bad news. Levi didn’t hide his feelings about the topic very well. The slight wrinkle between his brows, or the subtle downturn of his lips when he thinks he isn’t letting his frown show give you all the signs you needed. When you were younger you used to think the man had no emotions besides annoying little shit and anger, but the more time you spent with him the more you had to learn how to read him. If you didn’t, how else were you going to survive the arrangement Auguste had so kindly forced upon you.

“I have to, brat,” Levi whispers when no one is around.

You reach the grand white doors, their edges trimmed in silver to show off the kingdom’s wealth, and look over at him with a glare. He simply opens one of the large doors for you, bowing as you enter to please the woman sitting at the head of the dining table before closing it behind you and taking his post at the entrance. You almost rather wish you were outside with Levi’s company instead of enduring whatever this was about to be.

You spot Auguste sitting in the chair closest to your mother, patiently waiting for you to sit next to him. Your feet feel frozen in place, unable to move in fear of the discussion that was waiting for you. Your mother never had Auguste accompany her in the lectures she gave you, always knowing he would take your side and defend you. The discussion had to be serious for his presence to be pertinent.

“Please, Aeron, take a seat,” Auguste requests. Only then, when you hear his soothing voice, do you move towards the long banquet table that hosts far too many chairs to be actually useful. Your boots echo throughout the entire room as the two sit in silence, your corset shifting slightly as you walk. Everything feels incredibly uncomfortable now, the fabric sticking to your skin in all of the wrong ways, the layer of dirt that seems to have settled on your skin after being outside now unbearable. Even the grass stain on your knee is bothering you more than it normally would under their watchful eyes.

Auguste stands to pull your chair out from the table as you make your way over, pushing it in gently as you sit down so you’re close enough to the stained oak wood in front of you. You feel like you can’t breathe this close, but it’s proper, and Auguste did it for you, so you would simply have to endure.

“Your pants are stained,” your mother chastises.

“Mother, please. This is not what we are here to discuss,” Auguste interrupts before the arguing and onslaught of insults can begin from you.

“Fine,” your mother yields. She crosses her arms and waves a flimsy arm at your brother. “Why don’t you inform her of what’s to come then.”

The room’s silence is deafening in the moments before your brother resumes his speaking. You’re fidgeting with the top of your trousers on your thighs, pulling the fabric between your thumb and index finger in attempts to calm your nerves, but nothing is working. It feels like ages before Auguste’s voice fills the room, delivering news you never wanted to hear, but knew your whole life was a possibility. You don’t hear the words that come after, only focusing on a small phrase.

“I’ll be joining the frontlines.”

Your heart feels like it’s in your throat as your mother attempts at speaking nonsense to you. You’re not listening – you can’t. The first thing you do is peel your eyes away from the wood in front of you and look over at Levi. He’s looking at the ground, eyebrows furrowed and an evident frown on his face. You know that look – he’s upset, angry even. You can’t quite pin an underlying emotion that lies on his features as well. Sadness, you think.

“Aeron,” Auguste’s voice tears your eyes away from Levi and onto him.

You know how you must look right now; glistening eyes wide, lips parted in shock. The world around you slowly pieces itself back together as you stare into those soft brown eyes. You focus on a lock of hair that’s fallen over his forehead, a small curl that seems too stubborn to stay in place.

“I won’t be alone,” he provides, as if that would make you feel any better, “Levi will be accompanying me and you know he’s the best Chevalier in our kingdom.” You scoff, knowing Levi is needing to use all of his restraint to not roll his eyes. “I’ll be accompanied by father, Theo, and Furlan as well. Do not fret while I am gone.”

For the first time since joining this conversation, clarity strikes your mind. “Theo? You’re having Theo go with you?!” You’re practically yelling now, standing up from your chair and taking a step back. Auguste is quick to follow, a frightened look on his face from the quick escalation in conversation.

“I told you she couldn’t handle this,” your mother supplies unhelpfully from behind him.

Auguste doesn’t spare her a glance, eyes purely focused on you. Levi has stepped away from the door, almost as if he’s afraid that you’ll hurt your brother and ready to spring into action. It just makes you more angry. “Theo can’t go.” Your palms rest against your temples, trying to press some sort of sense into this whole mess.

“It’s his duty, Aeron. You would be going too if you were…” His voice trails off.

“If I was a man, I know,” you snap at him. “I would be more useful than even Theo on the battlefield and you’re well aware of it.”

“He’s gotten more training since you’ve last had a match with him,” Auguste tries. “Furlan will be with him. Levi is more than capable of guarding the two of us. He’ll be protected.”

“This is fucking absurd!”

“Watch your tone young lady!” your mother shouts, now rising out of her own seat. You wish you could slap some sense into her, you wish she wasn’t here in this room while tears threaten to spill over.

You’re terrified. You trust Auguste to make it back to you, he’s trained and capable, but Theo has never been skilled in any combat. You think he takes after the creativity that seems to flow through your bloodline. Auguste was always miserable at the arts, but Theo knew how to play almost any instrument.

He was the best at piano, sometimes playing in his bedroom when he thought no one was awake into the late hours of the night. You always heard him, the sounds echoing through the halls and making their way through the cracks in your doorway or if both of you had your balcony doors open.

He was never meant for war.

You watch as the tears finally overflow and fall down onto the floor below you, almost landing onto the leather of your boots. Auguste lets go of all restraints holding him back, allowing himself to rush forwards and allow you to collapse into his arms. You never wanted any of this. You would do anything to not see them leave you behind with just your mother.

You bury your face into his chest, gripping at the hem of his coat that lays on his shoulders unbuttoned. Tears stain the fabric, but you know he couldn’t care less right now, only rubbing soothing circles in between your shoulder blades. Whispers of “it’ll be okay” and promises he knows he shouldn’t be making float down into your ears. He kisses the top of your head when you pull back enough to look up at him and into his brown eyes.

“You better make it back to me,” you choke out with your index finger poking into his sternum. “Y-you have to.”

“I will, I promise.” Auguste pushes a stray hair from your forehead and wipes his calloused thumbs on your cheeks to rid the tears that have trailed down your skin. He’s a little rough with his touch, but you would never have it any other way. You love your brothers dearly.

The loud slam of the doors to the dining hall pull your gaze away from Auguste as your mother takes her leave without a single word. You watch as Levi turns back around after releasing the handle, leaving just the three of you in the room.

You bid your goodbyes to Auguste, but not before he tells you to visit Theo in his room and asking Levi to escort you to your own. You tell him you’ll visit Theo tomorrow right after dinner, that way you don’t interrupt his evening activities that you assume involve some sort of instrument.

Two sets of boots echo in the halls, the sun long forgotten in the sky and the torches on the walls illuminating your steps. Your gaze is focused down at your feet, absorbing all of the information that was just given to you in such a short amount of time. You almost wish Levi had warned you about it, but he was right – it wasn’t his place – and you probably would’ve lost your mind without someone to comfort you. Auguste was the perfect person to do it.

“Oi,” Levi whispers, “you passed your room.”

You stop, turning around to see Levi standing by your door with a hand on the handle, ready to open it for you. You realize why he has been uncharacteristically nice to you today, treating you like he actually cares about the way you feel and knowing how you would probably react to the news. You walk towards him, footsteps slightly shuffling as you do.

“Levi,” you whisper when you get in front of him, gaze coming up just to look him in the eyes. You see him noticeably stiffen at the sound of his name leaving your lips – a rare occurrence if it’s not followed, or prefaced, by an insult in a snarky tone.

No, your voice is soft. You sound scared and as Levi looks at you now he feels a hint of remorse, like he’s the one at fault for the situation at hand. He wants to promise that he won’t let anything happen to your brothers, or to Furlan for that matter, but he knows better than to make promises he might not be able to keep unlike Auguste. His duty has always been to protect the members of the royal family and he has always taken that job seriously. He wants to tell you he will do all that he can on the battlefield to ensure their safety – hell, he would risk his own life if he has to if it meant everyone else would come back alive.

Instead, he whispers a quiet, “what,” his voice sounding softer than usual.

You notice his eyes are grey, something you’ve never seen or cared to look at. You tend to avoid being this close to him or even looking at him really, always too focused on something else to give his features any attention. “You have to promise me something,” you say quietly once you have your thoughts gathered.

“You know I can’t do that, brat.”

“All of you need to make it back here,” you tell him, pointing that same index finger at him that had touched Auguste’s chest before. “I’ll never forgive you if something happens to my brothers.”

Levi’s breath hitches, unsure of what to say to such a heavy demand. Of course, he would do anything for them. “I can’t promise you anything,” he whispers back, “but I’ll try.”

“Good,” is all you say before heading into your chambers and closing the door in Levi’s face.

Levi stands there, staring at the painted grey wood in front of him. He tries not to think about how you said the word “all”, as if you cared about whether or not he made it back alive too.

—

Theo is in the courtyard by the time you get ready, casually strolling with the company of Furlan. You hate to interrupt, but it’s the one moment you have before he’s busy for the rest of the evening and you still haven’t seen him since Auguste told you they’re leaving.

Levi is trailing behind you like usual since Auguste is busy in meetings with your father – they’re never ending it seems. You fight the urge to tell him to just walk next to you again, but the man is stubborn and will maintain his respectful position in front of your brothers. It’s only when you’re alone that he breaks the ridiculously strict set of rules your father imposes on him.

“Sister,” Theo greets you with surprise when he sees you strolling up to him.

You give him a small smile. You told yourself you’d remain strong throughout this interaction, but your emotions are slowly starting to peek through before you’ve even begun.

“Hello. Furlan, Levi, would you two mind sparing us some privacy?” you kindly ask them, mostly directing your eyes and voice towards Furlan.

He gives you a smile and small bow, excusing himself as Levi does the same – without the smile of course. “We’ll be close by,” Furlan reassures you.

You give him a small smile and nod, gesturing for Theo to join you on a walk through the front gardens. He offers his arm to you like a gentleman and you accept, intertwining your arm with his so your hand rests on his forearm as the two of you begin your stroll.

“Remember when we wrestled here instead of this,” you give a small laugh, awkwardly skirting around the real topic of conversation.

“When you ate dirt and grass? I’m quite familiar with the memory, yes,” he teases you, offering a small smirk of amusement.

You playfully slap his shoulder with your other hand. “I knew you were waiting for a moment to rub that in my face.”

“How could I not?” Theo muses, “you were quite the brat when you were little.”

“Well this brat kicked your ass eventually.”

Theo let’s out a genuine laugh. “Don’t let mother hear you speaking that way.”

“She’s heard much worse from me,” you grimace.

“I suppose she has.”

There’s a long moment of silence when you’re not sure what to say. You know he knows why you’re here; to express your reluctance to let him join your eldest brother on the battlefield.

“Theo–”

“Aeron–”

The two of you speak at the same time, coming to an abrupt stop in front of the chrysanthemums in the garden. You release your hold on his arm as you both face each other and the look of sorrow on his face tells you everything you need to know.

You hold back your tears, managing to get a few words out without breaking quite yet. “Please.” You gesture towards him gently.

He grabs both of your hands, a habit of both his and Auguste’s that they seem to think helps soothe you. “I know I never say it, but I do love you Aeron.” He lets out a heavy sigh, carrying on with a guilty look on his face. “I have to do my duty. It would be unfair for me to be the only one to stay no matter how much I wish I could be here with you.”

“You’re not ready for this, Theo.” You gently shake his hands. “Your training isn’t at that level yet. If I can surpass you, you’re not ready.”

Theo scoffs at this, his eyebrows furrowing. “You’ve surpassed even Auguste. Only Levi is your competition and even then the man could never come close to your archery skills. You’re a born fighter. I’ll never be ready with those expectations.”

“Then I’ll go in your stead. I’ll convince mother and father–”

“That’s nonsense, Aeron!” Theo’s voice raises as he releases his hold on your hands. “I could never live with myself if you went and something happened to you, but you’re a woman anyway. You can’t.”

“That’s ridiculous and you know it!”

“I don’t make the rules,” Theo sighs, running a hand over his features in distress. His voice softens, regarding you with such sympathy in his green eyes. “I’ll be there for Auguste and I truly hope I make it back to you. I’ll do everything within my power to do so. Please, trust us.”

“I do trust you Theo,” you choke out, tears already beginning to spill over and trail down your cheeks. “It’s not about trust. I just need you to make it back to me. You can’t leave me.”

“When I come back I’ll play you a song on the piano,” he reassures before pausing, seemingly thinking something through. “It was going to be a surprise for you, but you’re a stubborn woman,” he teases affectionately.

This gets a laugh out of you as you swipe the tears off your cheeks with your fingers. You break your composure further, pulling Theo into an embrace as you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him close with your face hidden in his shoulder. His arms embrace you, hands holding you close between your shoulder blades.

“I can’t wait.” Your voice sounds muffled in the fabric of his coat.

#levi ackerman #aot fanfiction #aot levi #levi attack on titan #levi x reader #levi x you #fanfic #levi ackerman x female reader #levi ackerman x reader #royalty au #angst #fluff #historical au #im scared

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koco-coko · 11 months ago

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Mea Culpa - Vincent x Jean - Ikemen Vampire

-> The entire mansion was invited to a summer gala! Jean and Vincent sneak off for some alone time… Except- Oh no! They didn’t hear the footsteps behind them!!

Tags/Warnings <--> Slight crack, Humorous, Slightly fluffy, Supportive Family, Being Outed, Slight spice (is making out considered spice?), More kissing than I originally planned, Theo loses his mind, "Comte loves all his sons equally" (the mansion knows Jean the favorite- Jean does not), Arthur bullies indiscriminately

Word Count: 3203 (about 6 pages)

A/N <--> I had too much fun writing this. I genuinely don't know how I wrote this so fast. Also I recommend reading https://www.tumblr.com/koco-coko/737240114777948160/when-the-world-exploded-vincent-x-jean?source=share this if you want more context if not that'a fine

i think they might like this: @azulashengrottospiano @natimiles @weirdwriter69 (if anyone wants to be removed or added lemme know)

A summer night’s gala… What a romantic scene. The heat and humidity of evening air, the faint glow of candlelight, the soft melodies of a piano and violin…

It was a beautiful event, really. A friend of Le Comte’s invited him and the residents of his mansion to celebrate the summer solstice. It was the first summer after Jean and Vincent started their relationship. It wasn’t public, considering the era, but nobody in the mansion knew either. Maybe one day, but Jean was not ready for the amount of teasing comments he’d receive after this. Besides, only Sebastian and Mitsuki came from an ‘accepting’ era… How would the rest feel about something like this?

So, for the gala, Vincent and Jean stayed trapped in their own bubbles. Vincent hung around the food with his brother while Jean was a wallflower by Mozart’s piano. Jean would’ve approached Vincent by now, but unfortunately, the light of an angel attracted many people. Mostly women. All in their nice summer dresses with their fans, all swooning over the innocence and purity of the man before them. Theo seemed to fight them off fairly well by just… being Theo… but Jean felt something rising in him as he watched the crowd, tipsy and carefree, flirting with Vincent so openly. A green-eyed monster in Jean’s heart made his jaw tighten, only made worse by Vincent’s cluelessness and occasional discomfort when a lady in red mentioned the idea of courting him.

Jean tried to stay next to Mozart as long as possible. Except… the people really did love Wolfram, flocking around his piano to listen to his songs more intently. Jean’s discomfort then brought him to linger around Napoleon, but then Napoleon chatted with Isaac, who was being stalked by Dazai, and no way was he going anywhere close to Comte and that bundle of nerve and nobility…

Jean found himself at a loss in the corner. Why did he even agree to come to this place? He really wasn’t the type for fancy events. Even his suit felt stifling, though maybe that was the humidity getting to him. Jean pulled at his collar and wiped his forehead with his arm, scanning the area for any type of escape. The balcony already had lovers on it, enjoying the idyllic starry night. A single glimpse to the upper levels gave him the sight of an older man and woman clinking their glasses together. A young pair behind them was making their way to the balcony, whispering and blushing as they did.

His eyes traveled to a sandy-blonde without any command. The thought of passionate and amorous nights made his thoughts turn to Vincent in mere seconds.

Vincent was rubbing Theo’s shoulder while Arthur laughed about something, when suddenly he caught a glimpse of Jean staring at him. He waved, but his grin faded as he saw the anxious look on his partner’s face. Theodorus was starting to chide Arthur for something, not even realizing his older brother’s hand had left him. Vincent pointed to the open door, the only thing that caught the venue from being too stuffy to handle.

When Jean nodded shyly, Vincent made a beeline outside. Of course, the garden was filled with groups of people as well. The fairy lights and lanterns were just too nice to miss. Wine and lovey-dovey nobles littered the area. When Jean joined his side, that’s when he caught sight of a small place beyond the bushes. None of the fine ladies in their bouncy dresses would want to go through thorny bushes to somewhere so dark and secluded to flirt with their lovers (Well, there were a few unseemly sounds coming from behind the banquet hall… B-But they weren’t going in that direction! Vincent was actively trying to avoid places with sound, anyways…).

There weren’t many lights in the clearing beyond trimmed bushes, leaving Jean and Vincent alone in the dark. Still, by how close they were put together, there was no need for it. Jean grabbed Vincent’s hands and held them to his face, peppering both of his knuckles in kisses before he could even get a word in..

Vincent hadn’t even gotten a word in! He chuckled lightly. “What spurred this on?” Vincent asked, naive to the expression on Jean’s face. He looked desperate and helpless, as if being away from Vincent that long was torture for him.

Jean glanced to the side. “I do not know… I believe envy has claimed me tonight.” How embarrassing it was to admit such a deadly sin to his lover… He’d likely never live it down. “Seeing you with those women, I believe it has stirred something in me. Forgive me, monsieur.” Jean hid his pink face behind Vincent’s hand. They vaguely smelled of oil and lead. From here, Jean could even observe the dried paint behind his lover’s fingernails. It was cute, sort of.

When Jean looked back at Vincent, he had the most romantic expression, his smile almost reaching his ears. “Aw, Jeanie…” Vincent whispered. His hands moved from Jean’s grasp and onto his cheeks, causing the soldier to straighten himself into the proper standing position. “I’m sorry I didn’t realize they were trying to court me,” he said. Unconsciously, his finger rubbed Jean’s eyepatch as he spoke. It had become so natural at this point. “I’m not the best when it comes to that kind of stuff. But next time–”

“I will be there next time. To protect you,” Jean cut him off, although unintentionally. Neither had great social cues, it seemed.

The possessive tone in Jean’s voice made Vincent’s heart flutter quite a bit. He couldn’t tell if he was heated from the summer’s humidity or something else anymore. In all truth, Vincent had a possessive streak in him as well, but he had always pushed his jealous thoughts to the back of his mind. Despite everything, his habit of trying not to feel still had quite the hold on him.

Jean cleared his throat once he realized how long he’d been staring at Vincen’t face. “Apologies,” he mumbled, “That is only if you wish.”

A moment of silence dragged on between them, but the painter’s palms on Jean’s cheeks made him all too aware of the time that elapsed. Seconds felt like hours when he couldn’t hear his lover's sweet and soothing voice.

“I don’t mind,” he started softly, his hands slowly lowering. A distant sadness was behind his sky blue eyes, one Jean had come to learn all too well. His arms wrapped around his lover’s waist on instinct. “It’s just…” Vincent sighed and grimaced as the words struggled to leave his lips. “It’s times like these I wish they’d see us as real lovers.”

Jean’s heart had struck a chord. Vincent could tell from the tightening of his grip.

“It’s not that we aren’t,” Vincent explained, laying his head on Jean’s shoulder comfortably. “I know this–” he placed his hand on Jean’s heart and almost laughed when he felt it suddenly speed up, “–is real. But others are going to say it’s not, and I think that hurts a bit.”

Jean, despite a bit of stiffness, began to rub Vincent’s back as best he could. It wasn’t very soothing, but the gesture was appreciated. “I didn’t believe it either, at first,” Jean responded slowly, picking his words with care and precision, “But I do now. Maybe others just need time like I did.”

“And a lot of persistence,” Vincent teased. He couldn’t help it– not when Jean’s flustered pout was so cute!

Jean and Vincent always had a struggle with words and pinning down their true emotions into tangible sentences. It’s why Vincent had his art to escape to. Jean’s coping mechanisms were a little (a lot) less healthy (fencing his feelings out until he forgot about them), but both were actively trying to get better at this whole thing. A relationship meant communication and communication meant a lot of scary things.

Communication didn’t have to be just words, though. Vincent’s paintings revealed much broader ideas than even he realized, and Jean’s actions were much better at showing his true intent as well. So, with a short smile and one last scan for safety, Jean tightened his grip on Vincent and pushed their lips together.

Vincent loved kissing Jean, and vice-versa. It was much more personal and loving than they could ever voice. Jean, in all his shyness, was surprisingly passionate with every kiss and put his entire heart and soul into every minute of it. It was only exaggerated by his jealousy tonight. He pulled Vincent closer and closer, until their bodies were up against each other completely. He was also a die-hard fan of French kisses (I wonder why). Almost every session like this devolved into those. Not that Vincent was complaining.

Vincent smiled when their lips touched, nothing but accepting the moment. There were so few times they could display their love, and they both barely had any idea how to do that either. But here? For just a minute or so, they could pretend that they were your average, head-over-heels couple, unable to keep down their passions any longer. They could pretend that they didn’t have to hide and completely soak into the other with no pesky inhibitions to get in the way. Vincent wrapped his arms around Jean’s shoulders just as their tongues started to meet, his hand running up his neck and into the lower strands of his slate blue hair.

Oh, it was utter bliss. They could stay like this forever, if time let them.

“I KNEW IT!” A voice yelled beyond the bushes. They ignored it at first. Then, the stomping got closer–

“I TOLD YOU, I KNEW IT!!” Wait, was that Theo’s–!?

The bushes parted with a big swoosh just before the lovers could retreat their faces from the other, revealing Theodorus’s red face and gritted teeth. “YOU ARE STEALING MY BROTHER FROM–”

His eyes opened wide when he saw the scene before him. It was as if his whole world shattered right then and there. “... me.” Theo’s angry stance fell to one of complete disbelief.

Jean and Vincent… like two peas in a pod… Jean’s arms around his waist…. Vincent’s on his shoulders… their faces, red and flushed… inches apart…

“Um… Hallo, Broer!” Vincent laughed awkwardly, trying his best to put on a welcoming smile. No point in trying to move away from each other now. It was bound to happen eventually, right? Oh, why’d it have to be Theo? Even Arthur would’ve been better…

Jean, unlike his partner, was as still as stone, staring dumbstruck at Theo with wide eyes rivaling the little brother’s look of shock. He couldn’t even move. It was as if Jean had been completely frozen in time.

“Pal, what in the brother complex are you going on about?” Arthur was quick to join the scene. The partners in crime never seemed far apart, so it was only a natural development. He just had to glimpse at Jean’s tomato-red face once to burst out into laughter, holding onto Theodorus’s shoulder for support. Thankfully, Arthur was pointing at Theo and not the two currently in a tense embrace.

Suddenly, Jean shoved Vincent off of him. Vincent didn’t seem all too upset at that, quickly patting down his suit. Actually, he was thankful he did. With Arthur’s bellowing laughter, the real chaos soon began.

Mozart, then Sebastian, then Comte, then William, then Leonardo, then Napoleon– in that order. There were more, but the bushes were too dense for Vincent to see the others through.

“Is there something I should worry about happening here?” Comte asked gently, clearly confused by the combination of residents.

The playboy was doubled-over, clutching his stomach and wiping his face of tears. He could barely look at Theo’s traumatized face without wheezing. “Oh, nothing wrong, dear old dad! Just Theo walking in on his older brother’s love session!” Arthur barely had the breath to force those words out as he fell onto the grass. “Dear Gods, I’m about to piss myself!!” he snorted.

Mozart’s face was utterly disgusted as he tried to avoid the foliage, only to gaze at Jean and Vincent with mild disinterest. “That’s it? Here you had me thinking it was somewhat important. But…” Mozart’s expression softened when he saw Jean’s red face. The soldier still wasn’t completely in reality. Mozart snapped his fingers in front of his face, but it did nothing. “Vincent, huh?” he leaned over to observe the painter currently biting his lip and rubbing the back of his neck. “I did not expect blondes to be your type.”

“He’s not the worst choice in the mansion,” Napoleon added on, smirking broadly. This was currently… amusing. “Though, I thought Jean would be more into you, if anything.”

“I was going to tell you Theo– we were going to tell you all, really!” Vincent desperately tried to control the situation, stepping in front of the flustered Jean. “Just… Not now. But eventually! We didn’t know how everyone would react, and we’re just trying to take it slow and–”

William laughed heartily, approaching his friend with glee written all over him. “Th're is nothing to beest dainty about! i has't did kiss many a sir in mine own lifetimes!”

Vincent blinked and his expression dropped. “What?”

Shakespeare smiled lightly. “Actresses didst not exist in mine time. Juliet wast just a knave in a dress. Or I, if 't be true nobody else could fill in at rehearsals that day.”

“Oh… I see,” Vincent replied. Will pat his shoulder reassuringly, joined by a slap on the back from Leonardo. Jean and Vincent both recieved one as Leonardo came from behind them. Jean let out a soft ‘oof’ as he caught himself, finally waking from his humiliated trance.

“Welcome to the club, you two,” he said, grinning. “Man, I remember the day… I was almost arrested for something just like this when I was younger!” Leonardo gripped Jean’s shoulder and shook it. “Ah, memories.”

Jean glanced at Vincent, then at Will and Leonardo. “How many residents of the mansion are… like us?”

“More than you think!” Sebastian chimed in, grinning madly as his pen went all over the pages of his notebook. He slammed it closed quickly and hid it behind his back. “But that’s just a hunch. Take Napoleon, for example! He’s likely kissed almost every resident here!”

To that, Napoleon smirked and shrugged. He couldn’t really deny it…

“I can’t believe it,” Comte sighed, a hand over his chest as he gazed fondly at Jean. Jean’s face instantly scrunched up and he turned out. “I never thought I’d see the day Jean found happiness in another!” Comte’s face lit up as he made his way to Jean’s side and wrapped his arms around him for a quick, tight squeeze. “I’m incredibly proud. Maybe one day you’ll even open up to the rest of us.”

Jean looked as if he wanted to crawl out of his own skin. Mozart, Leonardo, and Napoleon all gave each other an exasperated, knowing glance. Comte wasn’t even trying to hide his favoritism anymore.

Vincent sighed, half-relieved and half-worried for the future ahead of them. He caught sight of Theo, still standing there with complete shock. At least, unlike Jean, he was blinking and looking around.

The brothers stared at each other for a bit. It was tense, at least on Vincent’s end. “Broer, I’m sorry–” Before Vincent could finish, Theo had closed the gap between them and embraced his older brother tightly.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he whispered shyly, just as Vincent’s arms made their way around his younger brother. “I wouldn’t judge you for something as simple as this! I could’ve helped you! You didn’t have to hide all by yourself. How long have you had to bear this alone!? A month? A year??”

“Oh, Broer…” Vincent held his brother just as tightly, only moving back so he could pinch his cheek. Theo, although embarrassed, let it happen. “You really are a sweetheart sometimes. And I wasn’t alone, Theo. Jean was there with me!” Vincent looked over at Jean, only recently free from Comte’s smothering. By the look on his face, he was going to wash himself the moment they got home. Theo squinted at Jean. “He’s good to me, Broer. With Jean… I’m really happy with him. I promise.”

Theo’s glare didn’t stop just because of that. Jean met eyes with the little brother. It only added to the soldier’s nerves about such a sudden outing. If looks could kill, Jean was already a goner. Stabbed 29 times, shot 46, and probably a few broken bones.

Theo left Vincent’s arms and examined Jean in excruciating detail, head-to-toe. Once he had been thoroughly checked at all angles, despite Jean’s squirming, Theo leaned in close. Too close for comfort. Jean tried to lean back, only for Theo’s deadly glare and infuriated expression to come closer.

Theo pointed at Vincent. “You even think about breaking his heart, and I will hunt you down until the end of time and cut your dick off. You got that?”

“Broer!” Vincent exclaimed, “Language!”

Jean heeded Theo's warning, nodding his head quickly.

“Oh, old pal,” Arthur said, finally able to stand and dust himself off. He quickly went to his long-time friend and leaned on him. “That look on your face… Whoo, I’m never letting you live that down!”

The night continued on fairly normally, with only a few residents who weren’t present at the scene asking for clarification (Mostly Isaac, considering his era). The residents were surprisingly welcome to the idea, though maybe the whole vampire thing put the small stuff like this into perspective.

Things were a lot different back home, though.

For one, Theo was always giving the death-glare to Jean when he was around. He was checking in on Vincent a lot more often, always making sure his Broer was always happy and satisfied. It was only after a few talks with Arthur and Comte that he started to lay off (Comte and Arthur? Teamed up? It had to be serious).

Arthur and Dazai would often have teasing remarks, to Jean’s displeasure, but it was really only in the first few weeks that they were bad. Isaac nodded to them anytime they said a word, considering they were now fodder for jokes.

Comte was… more than proud, to say the least. If Jean ever mentioned that he wanted to take Vincent to a show, tickets would magically appear on his bedside the next day. Sebastian joined Comte, hiding around the corners near them a lot more often to take notes. This need for information (Comte was more on the: making sure his sons’ were always content side of things) led to a truce about the notebooks between the master and butler.

Despite all the changes, or lack thereof, there was one change that the lovers were the most fond of.

Finally, finally… Vincent could leave a peck on Jean’s cheek anywhere he’d like. Right in front of the dining table, after a sparring match with Napoleon… and nobody would bat an eye.

It was the simple things that meant the world to those two.

#ikevamp #ikemen vampire #ikevamp jean #ikevamp jeanne #ikevamp vincent #koco talks ikevamp #ikevamp fanfic #I wrote this in the span of 5 hours #6 pages....#vincent x jean #vincent x jean ikevamp #jean x vincent ikevamp #jean x vincent

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wolfboy88 · 2 years ago

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Year In Review

tagged by @thiamsxbitch and @theoceanismyinkwell

RULES:

post the top 5 works you’re most proud of that you released in 2022 (not necessarily your most popular)

The One That I Want: Stiles decides to make it the packs new mission to find Liam a girlfriend so Liam will stop hanging out with Theo but their unaware that Liam and Theo are in a relationship.

The second fic that I ever wrote, the first one for 2022 and one that kinda got me started in wanting to continue writing fan fics. I remember I had the general idea for this fic while I was at work and ended up writing the majority of it while on break over numerous docket sheets then pretty much typed the first draft when I got home that day. It was one of those ones where the story is so vivid in your head and you know if you don’t get it out now you know it’s not gonna be there later. It’s also the reason why I pack a notebook in my backpack now!

Heart of Stone, my Warrior Guardian: Liam inherits an old bungalow from his grandfather that has a life-sized stone statue of a gargoyle perched above the fireplace. But why does the gargoyle keep appearing in his dreams? Are they even dreams or is he losing his mind? And what does the gardener know about it?

My gargoyle au and one of my Halloween/Writober challenge pieces. I was intrigued by the gargoyle prompt and didn’t know if I was actually gonna be able to fill the prompt. I fell the down the rabbit hole of researching gargoyle mythology/architecture and fell in love with legends. I’m really proud of what I accomplished here and of the end result.

Coming Home: It's been almost two weeks since everything went down at the hospital and an injured Theo turns up at Liam's house.

This was basically my first time writing from Theo’s POV as I always tend to favour Liam. I am proud of the balance of restraint I had in this (as sometimes I get to wordy or descriptive) and the blend of emotion and fluff.

The Alpha’s Authority: Scott's wolf is upset with his beta mating Theo and breaking primeval traditions. After seeking advice from Derek and under the influence of his wolf, returns to Beacon Hills to satiate his rampant alpha urges that only his beta can please on the full moon.

The fourth entry in the Dominance & Submission series. This was just basically a little bit of plot and a hell of a lot of smut but it was thanks to a lovely guy commenting and mentioning Dom Scott and it rolled around in my brain until a plot formed and then I spat out 20k’s of smut which is literally the longest thing I’ve ever written.

The Way You Shake & Shiver: Theo is helpless to a pleading beta wolf and ends up at Lydia's Halloween pack party wearing Liam's jersey.

This piece was part of my Halloween challenge I set myself and this was one of those that was just fun to write. Snarky Theo is just a treat, and I don’t know why I haven’t written more from his POV.

your top 4 current WIPs that you’re excited to release in the new year:

A Little Less Lonely: my piece for the Liam Dunbar Appreciation Week 2023. I am finding this one a little bit trickier/challenging to finish as it dives into Liam’s IED/mental health. I had wanted to do more pieces for the Liam event but I don’t think I’ll get there and I’m just gonna focus on finishing this one.

The Wolf & His Chimera (working title): dark thiam retelling of S6B although it will basically pick up from the defeat of the Ghost Riders. Currently it’s plotted to be a 6-chapter fic and I have most of it plotted out.

Gargoyle Prequel: to Heart of Stone, my Warrior Guardian, focusing on how Jordan broke the curse on Derek.

After Practice II: another instalment in the Thiam’s Smutty Adventures series and Nolan joins the fun.

your top 3 biggest improvements in your writing (or art) over the past year:

1. Planning – I always like to try an outline or a rough idea of where the story is going although sometimes the story goes in a totally different direction anyway, but I find it helps with getting me started at least.

2. Knowing when I need to delete/cut something because it’s not working or is not relevant to the overall story anymore.

3. Being able to know when I’m being too descriptive and I need to par it back

your top 2 resolutions (ways you wish to improve your writing/blog) for the new year:

1. I tend to overuse descriptive words when someone is speaking and I’d like to be able to just you ‘says/said’ more or infuse the speaking into the action maybe.

2. I’d like to branch out and write other ships which is why i’m looking forward to working on the gargoyle prequal but I’d also like to maybe write Mason/Corey or Scott/Isaac

and your number 1 favorite line you’ve written this year!

Um, I just gonna go with this one from Coming Home because I feel it sums up Thiam perfectly:

And for the second time tonight, the beta’s managed to throw him off centre and knock the wind from his lungs. Theo shakily places the beta’s hands onto his hips, and they gaze at each other knowingly. They don’t need to speak or use words, just communicate with their eyes. It works for them and it’s just easier that way, emotions and feelings are overrated anyway.

Tagging @blue-runt @maplefire18 @sterekshipper-writer

and anyone else who wants to participate.

But no pressure only if you wanna!

#tag games #year in review #fanfiction #my writing #thiam

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benevolentgodloki · 1 year ago

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WHAT TYPE OF LOVER ARE YOU

// So Loki is super changeable depending on how he's feeling. First time around he got broken because I was focusing on how he felt about Theo from Where Mischief Lies. The second time was sort of a mix of feelings between Sylvie (post series 1) and how he once felt about Amora, which turned out angry (as it was quite focused on rejection I think). Then I did a sort of frostiron/strangefrost feels and he got peaceful.

the broken lover

you are a mess, but a beautiful one. you feel like you destroy every relationship you touch, and people hate you for it. but they don’t really, honest; i don’t know why i said that. still, no matter how hard you try, if you can’t mend the cracks in yourself there’s no way you’re able to heal someone else. there’s always a part of you that likes how broken you are when it comes to love—it feels more poetic this way. and it is, of course it is. but this isn’t a fucking poem (though perhaps one day it will be); it’s real life. so just be careful, okay?

the angry lover

you’re so full of bitterness… it’s like a poison that eats away at you and every relationship you’ve ever been in. it’s a slow simmer in your belly, love, and you can’t get enough of it. you drive your lover crazy and it never ends well. maybe it’s because they’re a fool. they weren’t the right one, they didn’t understand you. they didn’t love you they way you loved them. it couldn’t be you, right? did you ever even love them?

the peaceful lover

you view love as a single moment, a tiny candle flame that somehow burns hotter and brighter that a wildfire. your hands are calloused from holding someone else’s hand for so long it’s hard to imagine them ever once being soft flesh. your heart is light, and your days full of warmth in the arms of another. i wish i were you. maybe one day we all will be.

tagged by: @stxrksarc (thanks!)

tagging: Anyone who'd like to do it

#squeezed in one last quiz to do for Loki hehe #what type of lover meme #loki aesthetic

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theodorically · 11 months ago

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THANK YOU FOR THE TAG <3!!

Name: Legal one? Micaela, I hate it. The one I prefer to use is Theo or Theodore, either is fine.

Pronouns: He/they.

Star sign: Taurus.

# Siblings: 1 little demon <3.

# Pets: 1 little cat in the body of a dog, his name is Toby.

Fandoms: Too many, we have: MCR, Good Omens, Sander Sides, OFMD, Fall out boy, Merlin BBC, Sonic the Hedgehog (specially sonic prime), The Amazing Digital Circus, both Spiderverse movies, pre-Disney MCU, some of DC's things, The Umbrella Academy, How to train your dragon, and probably more but I listed too many already <3.

Favourite color: Teal 🪒(I could only find a teal razor lmao)

Favorite song: Currently either Save Yourself, I'll Hold Them Back by MCR or Maya The Psychic by Gerard Way. It tends to change.

Favorite author: I love Neil Gaiman, Stephen King and Terry Pratchett.

Hobbies: Sleeping, staying up late and not sleeping, eating, skipping meals, listening to music, writing random shit, reading, miserable attempts at drawing/painting.

Favorite fic type: enemies to lovers (Like, healthy relationship enemies to lovers-) and emotional hurt/comfort are really cute <3

Favorite holiday: December 19, the emo day 🖤🐈‍⬛ (I know it's not a holiday, I do what I want).

Partners: none <3.

...

Fun facts :D

I'm from Argentina, I can confirm the country is falling apart (someone get me out of here please)

I'm transmasc, hence why I don't like my name 😭

I decided on the name Theo/Theodore by stealing it from a webtoon character I liked, and because it's close enough to my second name.

I was first going to choose Michael or Mitchell, variants of my first name.

I'm the embodiment of top dysphoria :D.

Soph (prev↑) is my online best friend and I love her lots/p.

I presented my irl girl best friend and boy best friend on my last birthday. They started dating lmao.

I call my irl boy best friend insults more than I call him his actual name.

My birthday is may 20th if anyone wants to gift me a ticket out of this fucked up country (help)

I know exactly 260 digits of pi by memory.

I usually write said digits on the backside of school tests to mess with my professors <3 (one of them though I had cheated once, had to prove them I actually knew them by memory, his face was priceless 😭)

I LOVE MATHS, my friends often kidnap me as their teacher when they don't understand.

I initially only memorized 69 digits of pi as a (very bad) joke, a friend bet me a chocolate I couldn't memorize 200 by the end of the month. He has good taste in chocolate.

GET ME OUT OF ARGENTINA, PLEASE.

Tags <3

@alteredstratus @hasturswig @hallo-spaceb0y @chaotic-french-fries @rebelrobinrules1984 @gay4way @buryme--inblack

And anyone else who wants to join.

I got bored so here's a little get-to-know-you tag game I think could be fun :3

Name(s)

Pronouns

Star sign

# of siblings & fun facts about them (if you have any)

# of pets & their names

Fandoms

Favorite color

Favorite song

Favorite author (of anything readable-- books, fanfics, zines, webtoons, whatever!)

Hobbies

Favorite fic type

Favorite holiday

Do you have any partner(s)? (romantic, qpp, anything!)

Fun facts about you / anything extra you wanna share!

────────

Name(s): Loki (highly preferred), Elye

Pronouns : they/them mostly, he/she okay too

Star sign: Pisces

# of siblings: I've got 2! An older sister and a younger sibling. The fun fact about them is that they're also both queer; in fact, my mom is too. The only non-queer person in my immediate family is my dad.

# of pets: 4 cats! Phoebe & Frankie are our girls, Lenny and Murray are our boys :3

Fandoms: MCU (kind of), BSD, OFMD, Ranboo (does his fanbase count as a fandom?)

Fav. color: Don't have one

Fav. song: Aurora Borealis by Lemon Demon

Fav. author: Alice Oseman

Hobbies: singing, acting, drawing, writing, procrastinating

Fav. fic type: Fluff, definitely. I am a sucker for well written coffee-shop and flower-shop aus, too. Smut's fine, but only if it's romantic. I can't do angst if there's no comfort.

Fav. Holiday: Hanukkah or Halloween! I love autumn and winter

Partners?: Yes! I have a girlfriend (queerplatonic) who I love very much, and a boyfriend (romantic) who I love very much :]

Fun facts:

- Even though I'm a cat person, I really, really want a dog.

- I actually used to play sports. Because I don't do gendered leagues anymore, I don't play, but I've been looking for mixed/gender-neutral/queer sports teams. Baseball and basketball specifically!

- I started questioning my identity in 2019; I'm no closer to finding a label now than I was then. The difference is, now I don't want a label. I just am. :]

tags: @neonganymede @cha0ticlesbian @x-chiara @exceleo @brinnybee @autistic-katara @gandalfthemorallygrey @ohboyanotherlokiblog @roachandrenfri @ourflagmeanslokius @exceleo @edettethegreat @swiftlyspidey

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ikehoe · 3 years ago

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Sharing [Ikemen Vampire][Leonardo Da Vinci x GN Reader x Comte de Saint-Germain][SMUT]

A/N: Requested by the lil’ bb angel @kleeps, hope you enjoy this ;). Good choice of Ikevamp men. I’m sorry if they’re slightly OOC; all I know about these two is Leonardo is MYSTERIOUS AND HOT, and Comte is a RICH ZADDY.

Description: Leonardo and Comte both have their sights set on you. It starts with little competitions, Leonardo gives you a gift, Comte then gives you two, and so on. However, it all comes to a head one night when you make Comte dinner to repay him for his generosity, and Leo invites himself on your date.

Word Count: 3.4k

Tags: SMUT (Minors, DNI), Threesome, Jealousy, BJ, just... explicit overall

“Leo, I’m just trying to repay him for his hospitality! I’ll cook dinner for you next week. Stop pouting!” Arms crossed over your chest, you rolled your eyes at the man in front of you and prayed he would be understanding. Although Leonardo Da Vinci wasn’t exactly one you would peg as the jealous type, especially compared to some of Comte’s other residents, he seemed to be precisely that right now. The beautiful, wolfish man’s pale pink lips were turned slightly downward, and his eyes gazed at you in a reprimanding manner.

‘Cara Mia, you don’t understand. I have the utmost respect for Comte, but this is not just dinner!” Leonardo responded, mirroring the exasperated look on your face with one of his own. “Men do not just think about having innocent dinners with women. You should know this – how many innocent dinners have I invited you on?”

“Well, even if he does want something more, so what? It’s not like I’m in a relationship or anything. I’m only here for a month anyway,” you snapped, immediately regretting it once you saw the expression on Leo’s face.

A look of pure dejection flashed across Leonardo’s beautiful features for a split second, pulling on your heartstrings and causing you to regret everything that spilled out from your lips half a second ago.

“W—wait, Leo, I mean….” You stammered out, wishing that you could turn back time and continue reassuring the man.

“No, you’re right, cara mia. You are not in a relationship….” Leo begins, letting out a sigh that seemed to reflect the pain he felt throughout his entire soul. “But, I will not give up. I hope you have a great dinner with Comte.” Though his words were kind enough, the tone in which he said them seemed eerily suspicious. However, you didn’t have time to ponder his true meaning as the pasta was beginning to boil over. If there was one thing you knew Comte de Saint-Germain liked, it was perfection.

***

“Ah, my dear, you cooked all of this for me?” Comte de Saint-Germain asked, amber eyes twinkling with excitement as he scanned the dining table laden with handmade dishes and desserts. It was one thing for him to receive an invitation to dine with you, the lady that had stolen his heart in a matter of a couple weeks. Still, it was another thing seeing just how much effort you’d poured into this.

“Of course! I honestly can’t repay you enough for everything you’ve done for me this past month,” you replied, feeling that familiar fluttery sensation in your stomach at Comte’s child-like joy. “Well, why are we just standing around? I had to beg all of the other residents to have an early dinner so we could have some time to ourselves!”

The amount of effort that you put into arranging this special dinner for Comte de Saint-Germain was truly an Everest of a feat. It was easy convincing Napoleon, Vincent, Isaac, and Jean. However, the remaining residents proved to be more of a challenge. First, you had to bribe Theo with the promise of a quadruple-stack of fluffy buttermilk pancakes doused in maple syrup, to which the brunette immediately agreed despite not having heard your request yet. Then, you were led on a wild goose chase with Arthur to help inspire him to complete his latest installment of the Holmes series, which ended in him waving over a carriage for you in town at 9PM after having spotted a pretty skirt walking by. After that, you whipped up an entire batch of delicious, dark-roast coffee for Mozart and Dazai. The only resident that you weren’t able to convince was Leonardo. Still, you were hoping that your earlier conversation would tide him over until after your dinner with Comte, at least.

“Oh, my word, this Pavlova is absolutely delicious!” Comte exclaims, the delicious sugary treat melting in his mouth in a whirl of delectable flavours. “How is it possible that you are such a talented chef?”

You felt your face heat up at the handsome blonde man’s words. It was clear that whatever life Comte had lived before this, he had been a charmer. That was one of the things that drew you to him so closely. No matter how stressful your day was, Comte was always there for you with a gentle smile, reassuring words, and a comforting hug. With that being said, it had definitely been a stressful couple of weeks for you, having to get used to living in a house of vampires – even coming to terms with the existence of vampires was an ugly truth you hadn’t stomached very well. No matter how apprehensive you were about the situation, Comte had always treated you as an equal and respected your every decision. In fact, he had been so kind that in the past couple of weeks, you felt yourself looking forward to the brief moments of the day when you would see him.

“No, no, I had a lot of help from Seb. I don’t deserve all of the credit,” you responded, shyly focusing on the Beef Bourguignon in front of you, so you didn’t have to meet Comte’s gaze. Your hand gently dropped the fork you had previously grasped, lying awkwardly on the table. Typically, the long, wooden dining table was occupied by the rowdy residents in Comte’s mansion. The two of you usually sat on opposite ends of the table, only sharing a secret smile once every couple of moments, but Comte had insisted on sitting right in front of you tonight.

The sensation of Comte’s smooth, large hand resting on top of yours caused you to gasp quietly. Your head whipped up, and you met Comte’s warm gaze. The heat shared in both of your gazes was piercing, and you secretly patted yourself on the back for getting rid of all the other residents so that you could have a private moment with the nobleman.

“You are truly so special to me,” Comte murmured, watching as you broke into a radiant smile. The nobleman began to caress the back of your hand with his thumb, rubbing small circles into your skin.

Right as you were about to respond, the door to the dining room burst open, revealing the only resident in the house that hadn’t agreed to leave you and Comte alone.

“Cara Mia! Scusa, signore, I seem to be late to dinner,” Leonardo stated, eyebrow cocked as he looked at the spread of food before him. His rich golden eyes landed on your hand, enveloped in Comte’s bigger one, and you immediately retract your hand and place it awkwardly in your lap. “Well, it is dinner time, no? Where are all of the other residents?”

“Leo… I told you I was going to have dinner with Comte tonight… everyone already ate,” you said slowly, in complete shock at the scene unfolding before your very eyes.

“If you’ve already been informed of the change, Leo, perhaps you should heed our dearest’s words and return later,” Comte said, his usual smile plastered on his lips but a much more sinister gaze in his eye.

The two men stared each other down from across the room, and just when you thought you were in the clear, Leonardo pulled out the chair beside you and sat down.

“Cara mia, I have been starving all day. You wouldn’t let me starve, would you? Especially not when you’ve done such a fantastic job cooking all of these amazing dishes,” Leo says, knowing exactly how to pull on your heartstrings. The Italian man shoots you a pitiful look, brows furrowing together and lower-lip protruding into the most adorable pout.

“You’re right. Seb and I made all this for us to eat anyways. Unfortunately, I doubt that Comte and I would’ve been able to finish it, so please feel free to dig in, Leo,” you finally say, still feeling guilty about the way the handsome man’s face had fallen earlier at your thoughtless words. “You’re fine with it, right, Comte?”

“Yes, I am sure Leo can grab whatever he wants and give us some time to converse, just the two of us, as soon as possible,” Comte says, his smile not quite reaching his eyes as he continued staring at the other man.

Despite Comte’s thinly veiled threat to get Leonardo to leave as soon as possible, the other man seemed to be intent on staying. So the rest of the dinner went by in a near-catastrophic scene that you didn’t even know how you’d begin explaining to the rest of the residents. Though typically very cordial with one another, the two gentlemen seemed to take it upon themselves to one-up the other at every opportunity.

“Why don’t we go into town again, cara mia? There are a couple new places I’d like to show you – I am sure you will absolutely love them.”

“Leo, unfortunately, we will be busy that day as I will be taking them on a horse ride along the perimeter of the property. That’s something you said you always wanted to do with me, right, my angel?”

“I didn’t even say what day I wanted to take cara mia, Comte.”

“No matter, their time will be preoccupied for the rest of the month. I have a very detailed schedule of activities I’d like for us to do.”

“Signore, you cannot hog all of cara mia’s time.”

“Who would you rather spend the rest of your time here with, my angel? Me, or Leonardo?”

In your stupor, you had stammered out a string of words attempting to appease both men.

“I… I like spending time with both of you! Stop this, Leo, you know you’re incredibly special to me, and Comte, you know I hold you dear in my heart as well! Both of you have made my stay here amazing. If you’re asking me to choose right now, well, then, I just can’t choose!” You exclaim, eyes glossing over at how overwhelming the whole situation was. A tear threatened to spill across the side of your cheek and you clenched your fists, willing your heart to stop racing. This was not how the evening was supposed to go at all. Not only had you angered Comte and ruined the dinner you prepared, but you were sure you’d have to apologize to Leonardo now too.

The two men immediately quieted down, seeing the tear spill down your cheek. Leonardo was the first to act, given that he had opportunistically seated himself down right next to you. He reached his arms out and enveloped you in a soothing hug. His golden eyes stared into your own, concern flashing across his beautiful, roguish features. The sensation of his large, calloused hand provided you an infinite amount of comfort as he gently rubbed your back. “I am so sorry, cara mia. Please forgive us both. We have been stupid to make this about our silly rivalry when you are the one thing that matters to both of us, right, signore?”

Comte quickly approached the two of you, pulling up a chair on the other side of you. His smooth, large hands, so different from Leonardo’s, gently stroked your cheek and wiped away the tears that had spilled from your eyes. “He’s right, my angel. We are so terribly sorry for being such ignorant and brutish men. Will you ever forgive us?”

You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak in that moment. After a couple moments of silence between the three of you, as well as Leonardo and Comte’s continued comforting actions, you felt yourself come down from your emotions. “I forgive the both of you… But I was being serious. I do care about both of you a lot, and if you’re honestly asking me to choose who I want to spend the rest of my time here with, then I simply cannot choose.”

A moment of silence passed, and then another, and another, until you felt your heart begin to race again. The two men exchanged a knowing look, and then a second later, Comte spoke, proposing something that you never thought you’d hear in a thousand lifetimes.

“You know, my angel, perhaps it is time Leonardo and I learned how to share…” Comte began, leaning in closer to your face. The nobleman’s stunning amber eyes darkened with a hunger that you’d never seen before. “Leonardo, would you agree that we need to make our dearest angel feel better to make it up to them?”

“Signore, I think you’re right. But, Cara mia, forget about your worries. Leave everything to Comte and me.”

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion as you looked back and forth from the Comte to Leonardo. “I—I—I don’t know what you mean,” you stammered out, watching in awe as the smirk on Leonardo’s face grew even larger. However, despite your feigned ignorance, even you couldn’t ignore the yearning in Leonardo’s eyes, nor the tent in his slacks.

Suddenly, Leonardo captured you in a lustful kiss, drawing out a soft moan from you as your felt his lips press against yours. The kiss was hungry, devouring, all-consuming, lips pressing against yours so hard that you were sure bruises would be left. His large hand slid down your upper back to grasp you around the small of your waist. He pulled you in closer to him, seeming as though he wanted to erase any of the distance between the two of you. The gentle prod of his tongue against your lips could be felt, and you eagerly opened up, allowing his tongue to swirl against yours in pure need. As the kiss continued getting deeper, you began to feel a familiar heat pool in your lower belly.

Right as you were going to stop the kiss to look to Comte for his reaction, you felt Comte’s hand slowly creep around your back and press against your waist. A pair of lips began needily pressing hot kisses onto your neck, the pleasure becoming nearly overwhelming with the two men’s actions. Comte’s hand began to sensually rub higher and higher until he reached your chest, eliciting a loud gasp from you as his fingers toyed with your sensitive nipples. At the sound of your gasp, you felt both Comte and Leonardo’s lips curve into a sensuous smirk.

Moments later, Leonardo pulled away from the heated kiss and made quick work of removing your shirt and pants. The cold air of the dining room brought a chill that ran straight down your back and gooseflesh rising on your skin.

“Sorry, cara mia, we’ll warm you up again in a second,” Leonardo murmurs, pressing a quick kiss against your forehead. You watch in awe as both men remove their clothes, revealing their chiseled torsos. Leonardo’s body was every bit as manly and suave as his personality. You wondered how it was possible the man’s body looked as though it was carved by the most skilled of sculptors, every muscle on his ab clearly defined. Yet, Comte’s nude form did not lose out to the talented Italian inventor. The nobleman, though slighter in build than Leonardo, was all lean muscles and unmarred skin. In fact, Comte’s skin was so flawless it looked as though it were carved out of porcelain.

“Oh… wow…” You murmured under your breath, drawing out a low chuckle from Comte. “You two are so beautiful.”

“Have you seen yourself, my angel?” Comte responded, switching places with Leo so that he was now the one that captured your lips in a needy kiss. The pace of the kiss was much sweeter and gentler, similar to Comte himself. The man gently pressed kisses against your lips, again and again, until a smile formed on your lips. Then, he threaded his fingers into your hair and pulled back, exposing your neck to him once again.

“You can… you can bite me, I don’t mind,” you say breathlessly as Leonardo begins to work his magic on your lower half.

“Are you sure? I need to know that you want this, my angel.”

“Yes, I want you both to do whatever you want to me.”

At your words, Leonardo lifted your lower half off the chair and slid off your pants. He pressed hot, open-mouthed kisses on your inner thighs, smirking at the lewd sounds coming from your mouth.

“A—ah, Leo!” You moaned, gripping the arms of the chair tightly at the sheer pleasure. Then, Leonardo began to lavish you with his tongue, making sure to hit all of the spots that had you gasping for breath and begging for more.

Not to be outdone by his counterpart, Comte smirked against your neck and gently sank his fangs into your throat. Immediately, you were thrown into white, hot pleasure as your release overcame you. The feeling of suckling coming from Comte and the sensual licks from Leo’s tongue had you reeling from the pleasure. The ministrations of Leonardo’s tongue didn’t stop as you continued riding out your climax. Your body began trembling with the overstimulation, nonsensical babbles coming out of your mouth as you futilely tried to get Leonardo to stop.

“L—Leo, C—Comte, please, it’s t—too much,” you stammered, breathing in a sigh of relief as both men drew back to allow you to come down from your high. Finally, you opened your eyes, finding both men staring at you with unbridled lust and passion evident in their gaze.

“That was amazing, but I think I owe both of you some pleasure now, too,” you said, reaching to free Comte’s manhood from the confines of his briefs. If there was one word to describe Comte’s body now that you had seen it in full glory, it would be beautiful. His length was no exception. Yet, in the midst of the moment, you wondered if there was any part of Comte that wasn’t inhumanly beautiful. Making sure that Leonardo was part of it as well, you turned to the other man. You pulled down his briefs, watching as his impressively girthy manhood sprung out from beneath the fabric. “Leo… I want you in me.”

With a deep breath, you began to place soft licks all along Comte’s manhood, watching in awe as the man came undone before you.

“My angel, that feels absolutely divine,” Comte groaned, his fingers weaved in through your hair.

You opened your mouth as wide as you could and slid it down Comte’s length, stopping only once it hit the back of your throat. Suddenly, you felt a blooming sensation coming from your entrance as Leo began to slowly press his manhood into you. A moan threatened to escape from your lips but was stopped by the impressive size of Comte. The vibrations from your throat caused Comte to stutter his hips into you, eager to chase more of the heavenly pleasures your mouth was bringing him.

“Ah, cara mia, it is almost impossible that you are this tight,” Leonardo groaned, gently rocking his hips into you in an attempt to further stretch out your entrance. With a gasp, pleasure overtook your body once again as Leonardo became fully hilted inside you, his impressive girth causing your walls to stretch deliciously around him. It was only a couple of seconds of reprieve for you until the man behind you began to rhythmically thrust, pressing your mouth deeper against Comte’s length.

“A—ah, angel, I’m going to cum,” Comte gasped out, shooting hot, thick liquid into the back of your throat. While Comte was pulling his spent manhood out of your mouth, Leonardo leaned down and attached his fangs into the other side of your neck. The white, hot sensation once again filled your core, and you quickly reached your release, passage clenching around Leo’s manhood as you rode out the overwhelming pleasure.

“Oh my god, Leo!” You cried out, throwing your head back as the vampire continued to thrust into you. Leonardo reached his climax with a groan, and his manhood throbbed in you, painting your walls with hot, liquid ropes.

The sound of panting and gasping was the only thing that could be heard as the three of you attempted to regain your senses. Finally, Comte’s melodic voice broke through the silence.

“If you agree, angel, Leo and I will be sure to make your remaining time here as special as you are to us.”

“Yes, cara mia, we would love nothing more than for you to spend time with us, both of us.”

With a grin, you nodded and pressed a kiss against both men’s cheeks, eagerly looking forward to whatever they had in mind for you.

#ikevamp smut #ikemen vampire #ikemen vampire smut #ikevamp leonardo smut #ikevamp comte #ikevamp comte smut #ikemen smut #ikevamp fic #ikevamp fanfic #ikemen vampire fanfic #ikemen vampire leonardo da vinci

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lqtraintracks · 2 years ago

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WIP Snip

Thank you for the tag @wolfpants and @teacup-tai! I enjoyed both of yours so much!

I’ve been sharing from my trans Draco/werewolf Harry fic, and this week I finally decided to go ahead and make it a self-prompt for @hp-bodiceripper, so I’m very excited about that! I’ll share a sweet scene here, one of the very few with no sex. ;) Content: werewolf-based fatigue, mild hurt/comfort

And I’ll tag (only if you feel like it) @corvuscrowned @nerdherderette @mintamintathings @maesterchill and @3lvendork

***

Summer began, and then it was my birthday, and Harry insisted we go out to celebrate even though it was during a full moon.

“It’s the first day. It won’t be as bad as the second,” he said. When I gave him my most sceptical frown, he went on. “I’ll take my regular Wolfsbane. Come on, I want to take you to the pub.”

It was a very Gryffindor-type celebration: all our friends at The Leaky, mixing like oil and water if you shook them together really hard. It was very sweet of him to put it all together. Blaise and Pansy came. So did Theo and Greg and Daphne. I was surprised at how many of Harry’s friends came as well: Ginevra, Longbottom, Lovegood, Finnigan and Thomas. I wondered if he had bribed them with an offer of free drinks, but Potter only bought his own and mine.

And though he tried to act like he felt okay, I could see that it was wearing on him as the evening turned to night. He laughed at the story Finnigan told, his friend gesticulating so wildly his pint sloshed and Thomas reached out a calming hand with a murmured, “Alright, love, they get it.” But I saw the pallor, so unnatural looking on him. I saw the strain in him, his eyes tired, haunted even.

After a couple pints, I got him a peppermint tea instead, and he gave me a grateful nod, that hang-dog expression passing over his face. I took his hand, kissed his knuckles. “I’ve had a good birthday. Why don’t we get you home now?”

He’d insisted on staying a bit longer. I finally got him to make his way toward the Floo sometime a little before midnight. But when I stumbled into Grimmauld after him, it was to find him still on the floor.

“Sweetheart,” I gasped, dropping to my knees beside him. “Do you need to go to Mungo’s? Should I ring someone?”

“No,” he said weakly. “No, this is what happens. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry, you dickhead.”

He gave a fatigued laugh. “Can you just side-along me to bed, please?”

“Of course,” I said, my hand soft over his brow.

I got him to his bed, and he let me take off his shoes.

“That’s good,” he said, curling under the covers in the remainder of his clothes.

“What do you need?” I asked, hurting for him, that he overextended for me when I didn’t need him to.

“You,” he said, lips barely clearing his blankets. “Hold me?”

The sweet innocence of the request nearly knocked me off my feet. I ditched my own shoes, crawled into the bed behind him, and I wrapped him as best I could in my arms.

“Happy birthday,” he said miserably, ironically, and I squeezed him gently close.

I waited until I was sure he was asleep to answer. “Oh Harry. You have no idea.”

#wip snip #drarry wip snip #trans draco malfoy #werewolf harry potter

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who-ever-said-i-was-nice · 4 years ago

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Hi! Can I ask an ikevamp request where the boys find MC's sketchbook and is filled with drawings and doodles of them? If all of the suitors is to much, then just do for Jean, Will, Theo, Mozart, Leo and Comte. Have a nice day! ^^

Bruh this is a genius idea @jeanstan . First of all thanks so much for this request and second of all of coarse I will do all the suitors. Why? Because I’m awesome. No I’m kidding, I’m literally the most clumsy, airheaded person on this planet. Think brain fried Kaminari energy. Also I’m really sorry this took this long. Anywhooo let’s get into it shall we. Tags: @nad-zeta

Ilevamp suitors finding mc’s sketchbook

Comte

you where just chilling in his armchair and doodling him when sleep over took you and fell asleep

being the gentleman he is he picked you up and set you down on his bed tucking you in nicely

then he noticed your sketchbook on the armchair

not even mr. Perfect-guy can resist tacking a little peek at it

so he just looked at the page that was already open

an there he saw a pretty good drawing of him

Comte to his brain: take a peek you said. it will be fine you said. why are you looking through it. you said.

yup he ended up going through your entire sketchbook

he then wrote a little thank you next to your most recent drawing and set it next to you.

when you saw his little note you blushed, but at least he liked it

Leonardo da sleepy

you where both just sitting in the library

you got a bit hungry so you left to get a snack but you accidentally left your notebook there

you know this guy has a thirst for knowledge and that includes figuring out what’s in your notebook

he will pick it up and flip it open expecting to see notes or random drawings

nope nope he sees a bunch of drawings of him with notes like * damn that smile owns my heart* or * UUUUUUH why is he so annoyingly adorable*

This guy has the biggest smirk plastered on his face. when you come back into the room

“ I didn’t know I was annoyingly adorable Cara mia”

cue you turning tomato red

Napoleon

you where sparring ( or where watching the boys spar whatever fits)

after a few rounds you decided to get a drink and offered to bring drinks for the boys too

Jean excused himself and went to the bathroom and Leon was left alone

now your sketchbook was already just on the ground next to your hoodie

he didn’t touch it ‘cause he’s nice, but now..

he decided to take a peek

and he saw a sketch of him sparring

he flipped through it and found more pictures

him sleeping, him laughing, him teaching the kids the best thing that would describe him in this moment that meme: mha heart mah soul

and you catch him with the notebook in his hands

he just walks up to you and hugs you

Isaac

little bean

he stumbles across it by accident, literally stumbles

you dropped it and he tripped on it

he’s like the f is this?

he picks it up and opens it

oh my Lord

he’s as red as an apple ( pun intended😏)

there are a bunch of doodles of him some where he’s holding Harry, some where it’s only him looking through his telescope or just off into the distance

you: Hey Isaac have you seen my...

Isaac: no I haven’t seen the notebook, idk about a notebook, what is a notebook even

poor boy

you just hug him and reassure him you’re not mad, when he mumbles an apology

Jean

precious bean yes Isaac, Jean and Vincent are all beans. COME @ ME

so you carried that notebook around everywhere you went and while he is not as attentive as Arthur he still noticed

so when you left your notebook in his bedroom after bringing him breakfast he couldn’t resist the urge to take a peek

when he sees a bunch of drawing of him he’s..torn

on one hand he’s moved and is actually happy that you drew him on the other he doesn’t understand why you would want to draw someone as impure as him akgkgakgskgfau LOVE HIM PLS

when you come back into the room you panic a little ‘cause he’s staring at it with a blank expression

but then he apologizes and your panic melt away

he ask you why you drew him and you if play the “because I love you” card he will be shocked and happy and confused and surprised...( the list is so long A decided it would be best to just ad an etc. over here)

you hug him and reassure him he is important and you love him

Arthur

ok so he knew that the sketchbook was important to you right of the bat

being the annoying sweet person he is he decides to pester you more then ever

“ Whatcha got there Luv?” “It’s my notebook” “Can I see what’s inside” *flashes a severely annoyed look* “Arthur this is the 7th time today and i have the same answer. No.” “ Oh come on doll it’s just a peak” “It is closed for a REASON!”

Yeah you might have snapped at him a little but his ho guy ain’t giving up

so of coarse when you leave your notebook in his room he will act like he didn’t notice until you leave and then he will scramble out of his chair and nab the notebook

he opens it expecting a diary or just a bunch of notes only to come face to face with a bunch of pictures of him

he’ll raise an eyebrow and keep looking until he finds a very beautiful and realistic drawing of him sleeping with Vic and he looses his shit

he’ll run to you and pull you back into the room to cuddle and tell you how much he loves you no he’s definitely not crying

you don’t get what’s happening until he tells you he saw your drawing and you will turn slightly pink but honestly you just can’t be mad

Mozart

ok so we all know that when he finds this notebook he’ll be stone-faced

you ain’t getting no type of emotion out of this tsuntsun

that is until he’s in public

once he’s in his room oh boy

at first it’s just a hint of a smile, but it gets bigger and bigger until he’s smiling like a dork as he inspects your drawings

he’ll never admit it but the fact that you drew him really warmed his icy heart

he even finds one where he’s by a Christmas tree smiling and a little note next to it saying “I’ll make him smile like this one day”

he closes the book and puts on his stone face again and leaves his room

in the corridor he runs into you

“ Hey, Wolf?” “What do you want.” “Isn’t that my notebook?” “Yes it is.” “So why do you have it?” “....Inspiration.”

yup now he has that notebook with him on the piano and only let’s you get it back if you want to doddle in it some more

Theo

you where cooking in the kitchen, whipping up some pancakes for the brothers

Theo came in to complain that there wasn’t enough syrup on his pancake and you flashed him a death glare and told him to get some from the cupboard

as he grumbles to himself h notices your sketchbook on the counter

and he proceeds to open it and go through it

he sees a bunch of pretty decent drawings of him and he’s surprised

he’ll act all tough but he’s really happy

“ Oi, Hondjie! What is this?” he shows you your most recent sketch. The one where he’s walking King with a faint smile on his lips.

you instantly go bright red

“ Put that down! You where not supposed to see that! There not good just put it down”

he’ll sigh and pull you into a hug

“ I like it”

Vincent

smol bean

you left it in his room and he just wanted to take a peek

and he opened it up and saw a punch of sketches of him

they even had notes like “uhh stop moving you hand” or “how can someone be this pure”

he’s moved

will go and find you and apologize for looking in your notebook and will tell you how cute your drawings are

all in all he’s a sweet little angel but like who expected anything else

Dazai

funny how he can’t remember your name but can remember exactly were you hide the sketchbook when you can’t take it with you

yup this guy just went and took it

he has no shame

he flicked trough it and smiled to himself

the drawings where adorable and funny and he loved it

you strait up walk in on him with the sketchbook and he just smiled at you

you turn pink trying to explain why you drew them

buuuut he just twirls you around and pules you into his lap smiling and you go over the drawing together recalling happy memories

Sebastian

did somebody say Sebastian appreciation hours

You can’t really hide anything from Sebas can you

you went out to get groceries and he was cleaning up around the mansion

you had left your notebook tucked behind one of the library shelves and as he was dusting he found it

he opened it not knowing it was your notebook

he realized soon enough though

he just starred at the pages full of drawings of him

you waked in and he just calmly put the notebook down

he asks why you drew him and you turn pink

as you try to formulate a coherent response he sighs and makes his way to you

he gently flicks your forehead and smiles

“I never said I didn’t like them”

Will

ok so lets talk about our dear yandere boy Will

you hang out a lot at his villa

usually you are accompanied by Vincent

but today he remembered he had a painting to finish and left

you offered to walk him to the gate and he gladly accepted

however you forgot your sketchbook on the dining table

William instantly noticed this and couldn’t help but take a peek

he’s shooketh

the drawing are so cute he really likes them

you come in and he smiles at you

your kind of embarrassed because 1 you didn’t want him to see that and 2 he asked you if you could draw in front of him

“ The way thou hand moves across this paper mesmerizes me”

you turn bright red but your happy he likes it

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rooolt · 6 months ago

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barely anyone asked BUT, I’m annoying

so this is specifically about teen wolf, which I will clarify with saying my experience with the teen wolf fandom has been entirely after the fact of the show airing so I cannot speak to the fanfiction of the time but generally the ao3 collection from around 2020 onwards. Furthermore, this is specifically about sterek and thiam fanfiction, and I want to clarify that I don’t necessarily ship sterek whilst watching the show, but sterek fanfiction is its own type of fiction in and of itself that you don’t even have to watch teen wolf to understand or enjoy

that leads me to sterek fanfiction. Secondary disclaimer that sterek has over 70k fics on ao3 and this is not necessarily indicative of all sterek fic, HOWEVER, generally sterek fic that I’ve read I’ve noticed a few common themes. 1) there is a large contingent of sterek fic that treats teen wolf as if it is a monster of the week style show (a la Buffy) and thus will use some sort of silly monster or supernatural creature as a framing device. This means that they will use plots like curses, spells, witches, creatures, or werewolf magic/physiology as major plot devices. This, notably, is not how teen wolf works. 2) a large portion of sterek fic is rather preoccupied with the season 2 era Derek pack, including alpha Derek, Erica, Boyd and Isaac, which again is only a thing present in the second season of the show before two of these characters die, one leaves for France, and Derek becomes a beta again, this also, sometimes includes a tag I will always block which is “bad friend/alpha Scott McCall”. 3) large presence of AUs including “werewolves are known” “spark/magic stiles stilinski” among popular ones I’ve seen. The conclusion I’ve come to is that a lot of sterek fic is not concerned with the events of the show itself. It often takes place in nebulous points in the timeline, with a maybe random smattering of characters, and little reference to canon events other than maybe backstory events/canon events are picked and chosen from. This is not a bad thing necessarily, but it often results in a completely new experience and piece of media that uses the characters of teen wolf, and maybe some of the established lore, but uses it as a jumping off point to tell what is often an entirely new story. This is why I believe you can read sterek fanfiction without the context of the show because it is its own new thing entirely.

thiam fic, on the other hand, is HIGHLY concerned with the events of canon. That is not to say that there is never canon divergence or aus, but in my experience there is a large portion of thiam fics that take place almost immediately post 6B using the characters from that time period, with maybe some retconning of Brett and lorie’s deaths. But thiam fic is soooo involved with canon it’s crazy. There is a rather large contingency of introspective angsty fic directly relating to the consequences of the character’s actions in canon, namely theo’s with all the bad shit he’s done and atoned for. Furthermore, when a plot device is needed, instead of a silly monster of the week type thing, often Monroe and the unresolved hunter stuff is used instead.

now obviously the reason for this difference is obvious and it’s because of when the ships were invented. Sterek has been a thing I think from the beginning of the show and thus retains a lot of the bones of teen wolf in its “supernatural teen show” best. Additionally, a lot of people tend to prefer that season two era of characters best and thus don’t want to abandon it. Thiam on the other hand, necessitates that you watch the show until the end because they don’t interact until season six, and by that point, the show is somewhat darker in tone and less concerned with the supernatural (despite the immortal Nazi werewolf) and the people who like it enough to like thiam like that era and those characters of the show so they write it grounded in that. Also, the appeal of thiam is the redemption arc aspect of it, and the show itself deeply fumbles that so horrifically while still leaving so much room for potential that fanfiction can solve, thus lending the fanfiction to a more introspective character redemption focused thing because people want to see that redemption born of their connection. Like its so obvious to me why these fanfictions are so different, and yet fascinating to me that they are

something so fascinating to me about when two ships from the same show produce such vastly different types of fanfiction to the point where it reads as though they are from two different shows

#Teen wolf (especially thiam) inspires essays within me #this is also partly inspired by this tik tok I saw where this woman was like “if you like sterek fanfic you will not like teen wolf”#granted thiam fanfic often cares much more about these characters than teen wolf itself but it’s still quite grounded in the canon of the s #not to mention the trend of tags on thiam fics I’ve seen where they’re like like deeply poetic #average tag on a thiam fic is like “the inherent intimacy of sharing Spider-Man socks” or some shit like that #N e ways I have autism if you couldn’t tell and I deeply love fandom and just the intricacies of it

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pollyna · 2 years ago

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Fanfic Writer Asks

REPOST , DO NOT REBLOG !

Tagged by @oftincturedwords thank for the tag!🥰

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

52 but only ten of them are in english.

2. What’s your total AO3 word count? 77031, apparently? jeez.

3. How many fandoms have you written for and what are they?

So 18, uhuh: Teen Wolf(25); James Bond(5); Top Gun(4); Men's Volleyball RPF (3); One Direction (Band) (2); Supernatural (TV 2005) (2); The Shadowhunter Chronicles - Cassandra Clare (1); Thor (Movies) (1); Peaky Blinders (TV) (1); New Girl (TV 2011) (1); Captain America (Movies) (1);Timeless (TV 2016) (1);Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling (1); The Avengers (Marvel Movies) (1); Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins (1); Da Vinci's Demons (1); Suburra - La Serie | Suburra: Blood on Rome (TV) (1); Limitless (TV) (1)

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

No bad days (229 kudos);

Two slow dancer (184 kudos);

just like heaven (116 kudos);

I'm turning horizons into battlegrounds (88 kudos);

Inverno dei fiori (83 kudos).

5. What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending? From the one I wrote in english there are probably two of them: tell it to my heart, it's a 00Q and it follows the canonical events of No Time To Die but it's with a different backstory; I lit a forest fire, icemav that should have had a sequel but 🌈 sooner or later i will write it 🌈 , basically Ice gets what he wants (a kiss from Maverick) but it's all in the wrong way, time and it let both of them broken hearted and without their wingman.

6. What’s the fic you’ve written with the happiest ending? No bad days for sure, like it's a 5+1 where James asks Q to marry him over and over again until he says yes, how could it not be happy! And Of bets and moustaches too, it was an happy lil thing.

7. Do you write crossovers? If so , what is the craziest one you’ve written? Nope, read them sometimes but not really a fun of the whole concept.

8. Do you write smut? If so , what kind?

HAAHAHAH i wouldn't know where to started even if i wanted to.

9. Do you respond to comments, why or why not?

Mostly of the time, sometimes i say i'm going to do it later and never get around to it. But i read them all, more than once ✨

10. Have you ever received hate on a fic? No, luckly.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Nope, not on ao3 at least.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Once! I still don't believe it, in Chinese of all the laungages, it was such an honor 🥺 (you can find it here)

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Yes and we even published that one: this quiet company, draco/theo and it hurts in all the right ways even if no one really ships them a part from us.

14. What’s your all-time favorite ship?

uh, dude, i would say sterek but mostly because it's the first, lie second, pair on which i read about!

15. What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

do you want to know them in an alphabetical or numeral order? I have a usb that has just wips in it.

16. What are your writing strengths?

the prompt they're based on, mostly.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

dialouge, who the hell do you write dialouges. This laungage as a dictionary that's half of what i speak and still it eludes me how to put all in, in a decent way and without repetitions.

18. What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

Hell. Hell on Earth when i do it. And sometimes i find it cringe because sometimes words come out in a way but they have a total different meaning in day-to-day use. Please always check the meaning of what you're using because i still have nightmares sometimes.

19. What was the first fandom you wrote for?

Harry Potter, it was a Ron Weasley & Rose Weasley 'bout Rose having kid-type-of-questions for her dad, it was a damn sad thing because Hermione had left them when Rose was still a babe? 2011!me was already a very happy person.

20. What’s your favorite fic you’ve written?

just like heaven, me 🤝 hollywood's green lumpy couch 🤝 iceman sleeping on it? just perfect. And Our bones turn to stone. but mostly because it was the first fic i wrote in english and it has waaaaaay more sense than the actual Timeless finale. Still bitter about it? YEP.

No Pressure Tagging: it's free to take! have fun

#game tag #it was fun going around ao3 and discovering the stats #particularly the number of words i wrote???

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juminly · 4 years ago

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As The Rush Comes (Ikémen Vampire Theodorus Van Gogh x Reader)

Summary: You are at a nightclub with your friend Theodorus Van Gogh. The problem is, you want to be more than friends. Does he feel the same? Hell yes. Change is bound to happen. And it does. This one-shot was inspired by the song As the Rush Comes. Read all 3 parts on AO3. Rating: Mature (explicit/coarse language, detailed mention of sexual acts)

Tags: Modern AU, mutual pining, sexual tension/frustration, jealousy, dirty dancing.

Warning: mention of the reader not remembering the events of a past night of heavy drinking and partying. Word Count: 3500 approx.

Club Music Playlist *Kiss you by Nadia Ali **Down to Love (Kyau & Albert Remix) by Armin Van Buuren feat. Ana Criado

***Still I Wait (Richard Durand’s In Search of Sunrise Remix) by Jonas Steur feat. Jennifer Rene.

Song lyrics are in bold; look at this asterisks to know which song is playing in the background and play the song as you read -------------------------- *I'd wake up, and make love to you if I had you, I would touch you so much, but I'm not allowed to… Nadia Ali, bless her heart, was only adding salt to your wounds. You were already feeling salty enough for feeling the way you did and she didn’t make it any better. Why were you salty? While the song went on and on about how the vocalist just needed to wait for the perfect moment to kiss the one she wanted to show love to, you were here lamenting pathetically over Theodorus Van Gogh, the man that occupied your every waking thought and dream… and most recent fantasies.

The music was thrumming loudly in your ears, the discographies selected by this particular local DJ was always to your liking. The rhythmic beat of trance sending the club-goers into an ephemeral state of rapture as the dancefloor flocked with writhing bodies, the scent of alcohol, sweat and sex heady in the air. Were people living in some sort of state of drought? The thirst was real… and so palpable. You were not one to judge, you felt it too.

Thud… Thud… Thud… Was that the music or your pulse? You couldn’t tell anymore.

Would you pretend, we're only friends, if I kissed you, At least I can dream of you in a scene, when I'd kiss you.

You’ve dreamed of so many scenes, in so many different locations and in all of them, you were in the most compromising situations and positions. Holy fuck, just thinking about how those icy blue eyes staring into you while he lazily ran his tongue over his swollen lips, the ones you wanted to kiss and bite so damn much, that chiseled body of his positioned between your… No.. No… You told yourself you wouldn’t go there but your mind couldn’t help but wander. The song had just been coaxing you to act on your impulses and you covered your ears, just to keep Nadia from tempting you more than you already were.

How many months has it been since the incident?

The office hottie, Arthur Conan Doyle, had thrown an extravagant birthday bash in his so-called crib, and to your own surprise, the man had exquisite taste and the entire thing was planned immaculately. Who had been his wingman during the entire process? The hot mister that was your companion at the club for the night. That was how, when and where you met him, much to your dismay.

You heard that things had gotten hot and heavy between you during that birthday party and you were literally flung over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes and carried into Arthur’s bedroom. Things had gotten that heated… However, big emphasis on the word “heard” cause you unfortunately don’t remember jackshit from that fateful night and cursed yourself all the time for this.

His hands roughly groping you and his lips fiercely crashing down on yours… The things that could’ve happened… The things you could’ve done… You could ONLY imagine. Imagine, yes. Remember, no. The heavens indisputably had some mocking plot to make you miserable. Miserable? You definitely were. After that night, you were thrown into the friendzone. With a capital F.

Pining after a man that wouldn’t lay a finger on you unless it was to ruffle your hair like some puppy. You almost got your chance at some type of romance in your uneventful life… Still, things only got interesting when that asshole suddenly showed up, but it wasn’t like you were actually willing to admit that to him. You’d rather swallow his… Brain and heart, focus. Libido and hormones, get the fuck away. He wants me… He wants me not… I want everything he’s got.

Shut it, Nadia. You were already drowning in heaps of doubt and you’ve clearly… clearly had enough of her feeding you more fantasies and unlawful and excessively unadulterated thoughts and you were doubting yourself already. And what you decided to do? Drink yourself into oblivion, accompanied by the vexing perpetrator who had just gotten back from the men’s room. It was admiration and pining time for you. As he slowly approached you with long and sure strides, Theodorus was, is and will always be probably the most gorgeous, handsome piece of eye-candy that you’ve ever laid your eyes on and you were 99.99% sure that this statement was your true and unbiased opinion.

Beige dress pants hugged the length of those legs that carried him, giving you the chance to drool over the definition of his stature that you could see thanks to the tightness of the fabric, emphasizing a bit too much for your liking on his… No, don’t go there. Heat flooded your reddened cheeks as your thoughts scrambled wildly in your mind as he found his seat next to you. That’s always where you found yourselves. Together. Always. You get along so well. It’s bound to be this way, right? The string of fate and the butterflies of time managed to find a way to bring you together. While your internal ruminations besieged your mind, a rich baritone touched your ears, unmistakably his. “We probably should leave soon. I don’t want to suffocate in this clothed orgy.” You shot him an inquisitive look, silently asking him to elaborate on his point. “You look like you’re about to melt in that pretty little dress of yours, Hondje. I’d rather hop to any pub or have a drink at that klootzak’s place and deal with his moaning than this. At least his place isn’t as filthy as this hellish kennel.”

“You talk like an old man, Theo. Why don’t we just try to live a little?” He simply gave you a glare, a response that you knew very well. He wasn’t going to waste his breath on such mundane frivolities. It seemed that you would have to take the drinking party elsewhere. Clubs were clearly not Theo’s favourite destination.

You couldn’t help but giggle at this man’s dog analogies. As much as they pissed the shit out of you… Wait. Rewind. Did he just compliment what you were wearing...? He noticed?

For the first time in a while, you decided to try “letting loose” and go for something different. You would usually go for something, more like, anything black but today was different. In celebration of whatever weird feeling and eccentricity that came over you, you decided to go for a skimpy off-the-shoulder purple dress that kissed every curve of your luscious form, barely reaching the top of your mid-thigh and pushed your bosom in a way that accentuated your cleavage. You felt hot and you wanted to feel hot too.

**It's down to love tonight, This is where we are, As we turn into the light, Let’s make it last...

On any other day, Down to Love would’ve been one of your favourite songs to listen to but definitely not today. You were clearly not down to any kind of love. This is not where you wanted to be and you didn’t want this to last. You growled under your breath, enough to have Theodorus, the man of the hour… no, he was the man of your every-fucking-day and your every-goddamn-dream and fantasy, tilt his head to the side to cast a judging gaze at you, raising an arched eyebrow with a silent what-the-fuck is wrong with you.

There was so much that was wrong with you and he was the cause of it all. The prime suspect. The only one, this maddeningly handsome asshole.

Lips slick with moisture, your eyes lingered a little too long on the inviting gleam before you attempted to relax in your seat, while Theo remained hunched apathetically over the bar counter, nursing his drink thoughtlessly. Both of you were so accustomed to whatever it was that you were doing, you fell into a pattern that soon began to feel more like a ritual. You couldn’t even remember how you became his drinking buddy but there was something that Arthur said once… Both of you were not the type to party hard so it made it hard for him to have fun with the both of you, even though Theo and him spent an obscene amount of time together. You were kindred spirits. That was a fact.

Being around him made it hard to breathe. You noticed that not only the first button of his shirt was open, but now, the second one was too, giving you a good look of impeccably sculpted pectorals, his skin shining under the epilepsy-inducing lights of the nightclub while drops of sweats meandered down to places unknown, unexplored… and desired. With one arm propped on the counter and leaning his full weight to one side, his form was completely angled towards you and his eyes roamed appraisingly over your provocative dress and your overall physique. You knew that look, you’ve seen it before. It was the same way he scrutinized and examined art.

His gaze was now posed on your thighs, your dress hiked up even more on your silky skin as you crossed and uncrossed your legs restlessly. “Looking at something, big guy? My eyes are up here. You’ve been checking me out since we got here.” you quipped with a smirk. “Hm?” he hummed, as if you had ripped him away from the depth of his thoughts. You could see a faint blush on the top of his cheekbones… It was clearly only a sign of inebriation. Right? “Oh, I was just wondering who you’re trying to seduce.” he replied blankly before continuing. “You wouldn’t need to dress up like this to impress me.” His tongue swiped over his lower lip, wettening it before throwing his head back, draining his glass of whiskey and turning his body away, leaving you perplexed by his words. What… What exactly did he mean by that? Shaking your thoughts away, you had enough wine in your system to finally get the words spilling from your lips. “Theo… Wanna dance?” Those three words prickled his ear drums and he turned to look at you with a judging smirk. “Is it playtime, Hondje?” You rolled your eyes and crossed your arms at his expected remark, climbing off your bar stool and tapping your heeled foot on the black tile beneath you. Looking at him expectantly, your heart clenched, momentarily regretting your decision to build up the courage to take the first step. He was bound to embarass you somehow.

“I’m sure you can find lots of other pups and mutts to play with in that disgusting pile of bodies.” An affronted expression washed over his handsome face and you resisted the need to slap his smugness away. You began to tremble slightly and snapped at him “You suck, Theo!”. His reaction made you freeze for a second. His eyes were taking you in, gliding over your body from head to toe before locking with yours. “Would you like to take me for a test drive? Are you in heat, Hondje?” he practically purred.

“Fuck you, Theo.” Was he capable of doing anything but frustrate (and arouse) you? You could feel an intense heat building inside of you, your heart beating angrily in your chest as you seethed from his response. You blinked, completely outraged and offended as he dared to freaking chuckle at your contained outburst.

“You wish. Now, can you go bark at someone else and let me enjoy my bloody drink?” Not wanting to give him more of your precious time, you actually flipped him the bird this time, scowling at him in disbelief, all that wine in your blood giving way for your tongue to sharpen as the night went on. “Do you always have to be such an ass?”

The ear-splitting grin on Theo’s face suddenly transformed into a smirk… and a scowl? when a young man behind you asked you to dance. You couldn’t really register what the guy was saying. Something along the lines of “ I don’t know if he’s just stupid or blind” and honestly, you kind of agreed with him. As much as Theodorus Van Gogh was a genius at what he did, he was stupid for not giving in to you. You were ready to give him… your everything. You were in deep shit, being so in love with a man who would possibly not return your affections? He looked like the incarnation of heartbreak and didn’t that just make you giddy? Being around him almost made you… sarchotic.

Sarchotic or not. Now you had his full attention.

Those ocean blue eyes were trained on you, an unfamiliar predatorial aura reverberating from him, still seeping through Theodorus’ attempt to enshroud it with the negligible quirk of those lips, that half-smile that you knew too well. If he wanted a show, he’s gonna be getting one. Not that you really cared whether he enjoyed it or not, but the least you could do is actually enjoy the company of the… You looked at your newly appointed dance partner, who had just lead you to the dancefloor, to evaluate him.

Okay, he wasn’t too bad: a bit shorter and less muscular than Theo but his hair were waves of chocolate brown that were simply asking to be threaded through and pulled. You beamed at your partner, feeling a rush of adrenaline course through your blood, knowing that the handsome Dutch man had his eyes on you and you were going to put a damn show. Wait, it wasn’t a show. You were doing this for you. You didn’t give a fuck and just wanted to have some fun. Looking at the cutie in front of you, you raised your arms in the air and jumped to the beat of the music, body-rolling as you let the sinful rhythm of your racing thoughts lead your every movement. ***I wanted it, I needed it, I love the way your skin felt upon my skin, And I thought you felt the same but you threw me away, Threw me away and still

The man in front of you was definitely getting into the groove, slowly inching close to you and you were more than ready to welcome him. Your hands that were in the air were now resting on his shoulders, your fingers finding the inviting chocolate strands of his hair. His hands were on both sides of your hips, claiming control over the frantic sway of your hips, matching the booming tempo that filled the room. You licked your lips and bit them, feeling your heart race as you snuck a quick look at the bar counter, the expression on Theodorus’ face was absolutely feral… and bloodthirsty.

Good thing you had bitten your lips because you were about to let out an obscene moan as he looked like he was ready to slam you into a wall and fuck you senseless, growling in your ear: You’re already so wet for me, Hondje, so ready for me to slide inside you…. You’ve been teasing me all damn night and when I stuff you with my cock, make you mine… You’ll be screaming my name. A looming presence was suddenly behind you, a hand gripping your hip and forcefully pulling you away from the “cutie”. You had absolutely no idea what happened, when it happened and how it happened. You could’ve sworn that you heard something along the lines of “She’s mine” but it was most probably your brain playing tricks on you. Or not.

“Are you trying to play games with me, Knabbeltje?” His heavy hand on your hip clenched tightly, his fingertips digging in your soft flesh while you drank in the rumble of his voice in your ear, velvety smooth yet deep enough to shake you to the bone, capable of making your knees buckle in weakness. You fought the temptation to rub your legs together and continued the lascivious sway of your hips from side to side in a rhythm that was your own and one that Theodorus would come to learn. Cutie, who? Theodorus was the only person you knew. All your senses acutely aware of him and he made sure of that. Only a breath of air seperated your bodies yet, he was so close but still felt so far before he yanked your back brusquely, your back hitting the vast plain of his chest and the softness of your derriere grazing his crotch. You closed your eyes and hummed with a nonchalant tone, your back arching as you reached your arms behind you, gripping Theo by his nape and threading your digits leisurely through his chestnut locks.

“You really want to know, hm?” You crooned and he tensed briefly but soon relaxed behind you, one hand caressing the curve of your hips, his hold on you was firm and steady, making you feel the heat radiating from his body and enveloping you with the scent of his cologne mixed with whiskey, intoxicating you even more than the wine you drank.

One of his large hands snakes up the curve of your waist, lightly grazing the side of your soft mound and trailing up your neck and resting there. He rolled his hips against yours, your body following his every moment as he dictated your every single motion. The warmth of his breath tickled your ear as he crooned sultrily in your ear. “I could eat you all up, Knabbeltje… right fucking now.” I don't wanna feel rejection, don't wanna have no regrets… Is this a good decision or will you look for someone else? Leave me all by myself...

“Is that so?” you could hear your own smile in your voice and could hear an inherent raspiness in it too. Your thoughts swiveled with yearning and your judgement was clouded by your love for this man… and your inebriation. Your mutual ministrations continued as he grinded his hips at an excruciating pace, drawing out the torture that you were both suffering from. His long fingers were now teasing the column of your neck, careening over your sensitive skin and sending shivers up and down your spine. Slowly, he wrapped his hand on your neck, pressing only lightly and bit the tip of your earlobe before sucking on it, letting his tongue glide over its seams. “I wouldn’t say it if it weren’t true. You want me to repeat myself?”

“I didn’t say any such thing, Theodorus.” You dared to use his full name, intentionally triggering him. His grip tightened on your neck and warm breath caressing your ear. “I’m not all bark like you.” He truly thought that you were all bark but you were prepared and intended to do lots of biting, now that he was so near. You tightened your grip on his strands, making him groan in response. “I hate that you make me feel this way.” you breathed out slowly, trying to ignore the tightening of anticipation rousing in your chest. “Enlighten me… What kind of way do I make you feel, hm?” It was now his turn to tease you. “You know how I feel about you…” you pouted, grudgingly taking a sharp inhale before you carried on with this morphed, semblance of a confession. “You keep… you keep messing with my head, Theo.”

“You’re doing much worse to me, mijn liefste.” Oh God, you didn’t know what he said but you were positive that it was not some dog related insult and your heart drummed even harder in your chest. Why did this man have so much control over you? His voice was like whiskey and chocolate, dark, decadent and heavy with yearning, a blazing fire in your core, an excited tremor coursed through your veins like lightning, but not once did you rush the wicked to and fro of your hips, brushing your softness against the harsh ropes of sinew that made him the Adonis that he was.

Your cheeks were rosy as the pink dusk that painted clear skies and he saw that as you twisted your chest to look back and up at him. His fierce stare reflected in your glimmering eyes, your pupils dilating clearly, making them appear almost darkened in their shade. It would be blasphemous to say that Theodorus was anything but completely mesmerizing. “Don’t give me those eyes, Knabbeltje... or I promise I’ll take you here and now.”

I love to see you smile, I love, my love… As much as the thought had you reeling, you wanted the awaited spectacle to be a private one. Gazing straight in his almost glowing orbs of sapphire, he had the look of a man who was born ready to ravage you and rearrange your insides. Leaning down, he drawled against your lips with a huskiness that sent you into a frazzled state of need.

“When I fuck you, I’m going to make sure you always remember it. The only thing that’s gonna spill from those pretty lips is my name.”

------------ Read Part II HERE. Tagging le Theo simp squad + those who have been so kind to send me their ideas on what the “dirty dancing scenario” should be like: @delicateikemenmemes @sweetlittlemouse @nad-zeta @nafeary @raymiazaki @munarisblog @karmaaf (sorry if I forgot anyone else) Hope you enjoyed this 💜 Please feel free to leave comments/feedback! Masterlist

#ikemen vampire #ikevamp #ikemen vampire theo #ikemen vampire theodorus #ikevamp theo #theodorus van gogh #ikevamp theo x reader #ikemen vampire scenario #ikemen vampire fanfic #ikemen vampire theo x reader #ikevam theo #theo van gogh #ikemen series #otome #cybird

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