#a more pressing matter however is the earth okay

[tombofthemummy]

THE WHITE PHARAOH

This man (The WHITE PHARAOH) is the one being that I hate the most in the world.

His horrific antics exceed any kind of annoyance I have ever felt towards anyone, HUMAN or otherwise, LIVING or otherwise, PHARAOH or otherwise, WHITE or otherwise. His existence is an atrocity on the concept of being a PHARAOH.

1: HIS UNJUST WAYS

I myself am an EVIL MUMMY, often killing people for fun and to defend my TOMB. However, the WHITE PHARAOH does far worse things for far worse reasons. His continued enslavement of people with MINIMUM WAGE for the sole purpose of building more PYRAMIDS is awful, and he likely thinks of himself as a good person.

2: HIS IMMEASURABLE GREED

Any PHARAOH will tell you that all you need is 1 good PYRAMID. So why does he want more? My one PYRAMID has a COMBAT ARENA, a GIANT PIT, a BAR, a SARCOPHAGUS CHAMBER, a PUZZLE ROOM, and much, much more. What more could the WHITE PHARAOH want from hundreds of PYRAMIDS? He is going to sell CHARCUTERIE BOARDS and WINE in shops in the PYRAMIDS? He is going to sleep in 100 TOMBS? It sickens me. His GREED for PYRAMIDS is horrendous.

3: HIS LIES

I know for a FACT that the WHITE PHARAOH is not, will not be, and has never been a real PHARAOH. His HEADDRESS was stolen from a TOMB, and he has never been to EGYPT. His insistence that he is The WHITE PHARAOH comes from a twisted view of EGYPTIAN SOCIETY that he wishes to appropriate. His OBSESSION with PYRAMIDS has spurred him to build an EMPIRE of LIES so he can control more of the world in unjust ways.

4: WHITE

The WHITE PHARAOH says things like "aw shucks," calls people "Pal," and is always eating some CHEESE AND CRACKERS. It isn't morally reprehensible, but it is very annoying. There are few people WHITER than the WHITE PHARAOH in his irritating mannerisms of the ANGLO-SAXONS. Normally, I would be okay with someone being so WHITE, but in conjunction with his AWFUL PERSONALITY and EVIL WAYS, it becomes far worse.

5: HIS MUMMY DISCRIMINATION

Some may recall that in a PRESS CONFERENCE, the WHITE PHARAOH stated that he would not be MUMMIFIED because it's "gross and ugly." As a MUMMY, I found myself terribly offended. But to make matters worse, he constantly alludes to his HATRED OF MUMMIES elsewhere. In the televised HOMEOWNERS ASSOCIATION MEETING of the WHITE PHARAOH'S EMPIRE, he gave an entire speech about how PHARAOHS should not be MUMMIFIED, and every PHARAOH that is now a MUMMY should be unraveled and buried in a CEMETERY like "normal people." He mentioned ANIMATED MUMMIES as one of the worst things of all time, and said that every MUMMY who is alive in any way (like ME) should be KILLED. I need not elaborate how terrible of a person this makes him.

THE WHITE PHARAOH SHOULD BE HATED BY ALL

I know that when the WHITE PHARAOH dies, for a reason that I hope is me KILLING him myself, or some other extremely painful event, ANUBIS will be waiting for him. When his HEART is placed on the SCALE, it will be so heavy and drop with such force that it will immediately SLAM into the GROUND, shaking the EARTH in the LAND OF THE DEAD and catapulting the FEATHER into the sky.

The WHITE PHARAOH deserves nothing that he has. His POWER, his WEALTH, his HEADDRESS. He is worthy of none of them. The WHITE PHARAOH is a truly horrible being and I wish nothing but the most painful suffering on him for eternity.

I hope each and every one of his PYRAMIDS falls and crumbles into SAND scattered across the houses of the UTAH SUBURBS.

Words cannot describe how much I hate the WHITE PHARAOH.

[leossmoonn]

can you please write something with Mike being a hero, maybe saving the reader from something? I feel like he is such a caring, protective person who wants to help others and I would like to see something where he is able to do that - your work is so appreciated and incredible btw!

thank you :D.

a/n- thanks to jess for this idea. i didn’t just want to do a copycat scene of mike and afton. that’s the only idea i had lol. and i feel like this could capture what you wanted you :)

warnings / includes -lowk near death experience lol. reader can be read as gn ! one use of y/n

————

“i’ll see you in thirty, mike.”

mike gives his co-worker a small smile and nod. “yep.”

he exits the employee’s office, stuffing his hands in his pockets in search for his keys and phone. he checks his phone for any texts or calls from max about abby, relieved to see nothing was the matter.

he makes his way out of the mall and to one of the fast food options across the street. he forgot to pack his lunch again. not like he does, anyways. he usually can get by with lots of water and some gum, but today he’s hungrier than usual. he hates to spend money on food for himself, but he knows that if he doesn’t eat, he might pass out. that’s not something he needs happening at work.

“hi, can i have a number three. no drink,” he orders. he pays with cash, taking the table number and sitting down in the corner of the restaurant.

he looks out of the window, trying to think of anything else but the home he has to go to at the end of the day, and the fact that he should get another job. he thinks about what abby might say to him, or what she might not say to him.

he ponders about the day his brother was taken. if only he could go to sleep right now in this mcdonald’s. if only he could travel back in time and see who took his little brother. if only he was able to protect garrett from the monsters that lurk on this earth.

his appetite is shot, but he forces himself to eat something since he paid for it. he saves some fries for abby, putting them in a paper brown bag and folding it hastily. he gives the workers an awkward smile as he leaves, pulling out his phone to check the time. he still has 15 minutes before his break is over. he might as well just go back to work. he doesn’t get paid to be on break, and every cent counts.

he makes his way across the parking lot, pressing the crosswalk button once he gets to the street. he watches as the cars speed by, the wind blowing in his face and providing a calming sensation. a wave of tiredness washes over him and he feels his eyes start to flutter shut. he runs a hand over his face, dragging his skin down in attempt to somehow stimulate him. but, of course, it doesn’t work. mike is in terrible sleep debt and will be for the rest of his life.

he starts to feel impatient as the light is taking too long — for him, at least. in reality, he’s only been standing there for almost two minutes, but it feels like 10. his attention is turned away from the terrible timing of the traffic lights when he hears a loud laugh. he looks to his right, seeing you approach him. you’re on the phone with somebody and talking very loud. the wind seems to carries your voice as you laugh once more, rolling your eyes right after.

as you get closer, mike quickly looks away. he glances at you through his peripheral once you stand next to him.

“yeah, i’m not sure what to get him. i might just get him money. that’s what teenagers what anyways, right? he can just spend it however he wants,” you say.

mike tries not to listen to your conversation, but you’re right next to him. it doesn’t seem like you care, anyways. it’s not like you’re talking about anything incriminating.

“well, i’m about to cross the street and head to the mall. can i send you pictures of things i find and you can tell me if he will like them or not? okay, thanks. yeah, i’ll talk to you later.”

mike turns his head to you slightly, watching as you end the call and slip your phone in your back pocket. you glance at him, giving him a sweet smile. it’s not a polite, awkward smile like mike usually gives someone. it’s genuine, like you’re happy to see mike or something. the corners of your eyes crinkle and the apples of your cheeks raise. mike can’t help but stare for a few seconds too long.

finally, the crosswalk gives them the green light. mike lets you walk first, but as you take a step, a car that’s turning right doesn’t stop. everything happens so fast, you barely have time to process. first you were calmly taking a step, next thing you know you’re heart is racing and you feel like you’re about to shit yourself. your body feels like a sloth and your legs stutter, not sure what to do even though your brain knows you should take a step back. luckily, mike out and grabs your arm, yanking you back onto the side walk. the car has the audacity to honk at you, speeding into the parking lot behind you two.

“oh, my god,” you mutter, a little breathless. you look down at his hand that’s wrapped around your bicep. his grip is firm, but gentle. his hand is warm and you can feel the callouses that live at the base of his fingers.

“sorry,” mike murmurs as he tears his arm away from you.

“don’t be sorry. you saved my life,” you smile gratefully. “it’s… it’s no problem,” he nods.

“ugh, now we have to wait another cycle. i’m sorry,” you groan as you watch the lights on the other side turn green.

“you shouldn’t be sorry, either. that asshole almost killed you because he couldn’t wait a few seconds.”

“yeah,” you sigh. “i wonder why he’s in such a hurry.”

mike looks back to the small strip of restaurants behind him. “must be hungry.”

“mmm, being hungry and driving are not a good mix. trust me, i know,” you joke.

mike laughs softly. you give him another smile. “i’m y/n.”

“i’m mike,” he says. he says your name in his head a couple of times as to commit it to memory.

“so, are you always saving people from angry drivers?” you ask. you internally cringe at your cheap way of trying to keep the conversation going, but mike doesn’t seem to mind or notice.

“only sometimes.” he gives you a playfully grin that makes your heart stutter against your rib cage.

you stay silent for a few moments, looking over him. you feel like you’ve seen him before. he looks so familiar, but you don’t know why. you know you’ve never spoken to him before. you only knew one other mike, which was one of your co-workers. and you know you’d remember this mike if you had even bumped into him. he’s handsome, no doubt. his eyes are dark, like he’s experienced terrible things, but they’re also soft and kind. he doesn’t look welcoming or forthcoming. you can tell he’s quite reserved in the way he stands, his stolen glances, the way his hands rest in his pockets. once he smiles, though, his face lights up and there’s a twinkle in his eyes.

you stare at him for a few more moments. you trace the slender curve of his nose and prominent jawline that could cut butter. it’s when you take another look at his whole face you realize where you know him from.

“do you work at the mall?”

mike eyes widen slightly and you can see his ears redden. “yeah, i do.”

“i knew i recognize you from somewhere!”

his lips twitch up into an almost smile. “how often do you come to the mall?”

“well, i’ve been making very frequent trips since some of my families’ birthdays are coming up soon. they all seem to be born one month after the other. and then, of course, when i come home i realize i forgot to get something.”

“i think i’ve seen you, too.” mike’s eyes flicker down your body and a thrill runs up your spine.

“you work in security, right?” you ask. “i do,” he nods.

“well, you are great at doing your job. you saved my life today.”

“well, technically i’m just supposed to make sure nobody is stealing anything. so, i was just doing what a good samaritan is supposed to do.”

“believe it or not, not everyone would do what you did. especially if we were in a crowd of people. i might have legitimately died, or gotten seriously hurt.”

“i’m glad i was here to help, then.”

mike can’t help but feel a small ounce of pride fill his chest. he’s always been a pretty humble guy, and he knows that him saving you from an asshole of a driver was what he was supposed to do. but he’s spent most of his life feelings helpless and worthless. he can’t hold down a job, he’s doing a terrible job of raising abby — by everyone’s standards, at least — and he just feels like he’s living the same day over and over again. he feels like he’s going nowhere and that he’s stuck permanently, like his feet are cemented to the ground and he will never be able to move.

but being here with you, his day feels a little different. he feels a little lighter and happier, even. he feels like he finally did something good in his life.

“god, finally,” you sigh in relief as the cross walk gives you the go.

you and mike both take a moment to make sure no one is coming. you two share a little laugh before walking across the street.

“it was nice meeting you, mike,” you smile as you head towards the entrance of the mall.

“you, too. i hope you’re able to find a gift,” he says. “so, you were listening to my conversation earlier,” you raise a brow.

his jaw drops a little. “i-i —”

you laugh, “i’m just teasing. i know i’m a loud talker. i hope I’m able to find a gift, too.”

“there’s a gamestop inside near the build-a-bear, if you haven’t looked there yet.”

“i will definitely check it out, thank you. maybe i’ll see you around?” you ask. you hope you don’t sound as hopeful as you feel. mike doesn’t seem to notice, but he seems to feel the same.

“definitely,” he smiles. you give him a little wave as you make your departure from him. he watching your retreating figure. for the first time ever, he is actually looking forward to his security job in hopes of seeing you sometime soon.

————

taglist

@celestbarnes

[lnfours]

bad idea, right? | c.l16

summary -> and i told my friends i was asleep, but i never said where or in whose sheets

wc -> 2k

warnings -> me not knowing french (feel free to correct me pls 🫶🏻), making out, drinking, hooking up with your situationship, secretly pining for one another, fluff towards the end. unedited and shitty writing. for the charles girls who listen to olivia rodrigo <3

masterlist | ask box | listen

₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊

if there was one thing lando norris didn’t understand the meaning of, it was subtle.

the music from the living room was booming off the walls, people littered in every open space of the house. red plastic cups were littered on every flat surface, the party lights lighting up everyone’s faces as they laughed, sang and danced.

you were sitting on the couch with the guys who had turned up, a fake smile plastered on your face as they all shared the same stories about one another you had heard 100 times. it wasn’t because you didn’t care, it was because of the lack of presence by a certain someone.

you had thrown on one of your best dresses, secretly hoping that it would catch charles’ attention tonight. however, much to your dismay, he didn’t show. as lando said, he ‘wasn’t feeling well’.

you knew it was a cop out of an excuse to come, but then again you couldn’t really blame him. you two were rocky, and there was no hiding it. everyone knew that the two of you were always back and forth, and at this point even you weren’t really sure what was going on. it was always one step forward and then three steps back, neither one of you wanting to fully jump in head first into something that had such real feelings. a little too real, no matter how hard you tried to deny it.

you were pulled away from the conversation as your phone buzzed in your hand, the screen lighting up your face as you read the notification.

instagram:

charles_leclerc replied to your story: you look beautiful, chérie. where are you off to?

you hesitated for a moment before clicking onto the notification, the dms opening as you read his comment underneath the photo you had posted to your story a mere 20 minutes ago. you were posing in the mirror, showing off your dress as you smiled.

did you post it for him specifically to see? maybe, but no one had to know that. your fingers tapped against the keyboard quickly.

lando’s, which seems to be lacking your presence

the ‘read’ popped up at the bottom of your message almost immediately after you had sent it. you swallowed thickly as the bubbles appeared on his side of the chat, taking what felt like years for it to turn into a sentence.

were you counting on me to show?

you bit down on your lower lip, locking your phone as soon as you pressed the ‘send’ button.

perhaps. i don’t wear red often, you know

the sound of your name brought you back down to earth. your head snapped to the man next to you, smiling softly, “hmm?”

“you okay?” lewis asked, concern lining his voice. you nodded back at the driver, waving him off.

“just a little tired, s’all.”

the damn buzz sucked you back in as you read the words appearing on your lockscreen.

if i had known you had worn this for me, i definitely would’ve made an appearance

another buzz.

and please, we both know you look ravishing in red. you should wear it more often, amour. it suits you

you double tapped the second message, fingers hovering over the keyboard as you silently debated sending what you were thinking.

fuck it, it’s fine.

are you actually ‘not feeling well’ or was that just an excuse to be a homebody?

i had plans with this girl named ‘netflix’, but for you i can rearrange

you smiled softly to yourself. why are you giving into this? you’re just going to catch feelings and keep going around and around with him in this stupid game-

pick me up, charles?

don’t have to ask twice. see you in 20

you liked his message, locking your phone as you went back to the ongoing conversation between the boys in front of you. lando was slurring slightly as he was telling the story of how he had first met you to daniel, having mutual friends.

and somehow, charles’ name had gotten brought up.

“so are you and him…?” daniel asked, eyebrows pinched together. you shrugged, taking a sip of your drink. play it cool. they can’t know.

“no, i’m not seeing him,” you lied, “sick of going around and around with him in endless circles.”

everyone nodded, a few of them saying ‘good for you’s and ‘rightfully so’s. if only they actually knew where you were going to be the rest of the night.

your phone buzzed in your lap.

parked a few houses down

planning my escape route now

this time, he double tapped your message, a small heart appearing on the bottom corner of it. you took in a breath, softly sighing as you went to stand.

“sorry to leave so early, boys, but i’m starting to get tired.”

you were reciprocated with ‘boo’s and ‘cmon, stay a little longer’s, but you laughed and shook your head.

“sorry, stass is already outside waiting for me.” you hated lying to them, but it was the only way.

stass, your roommate, would kill you if she really knew who was waiting for you outside and where you really were going.

you said your goodbyes, making your way through the sea of people as you headed out the front door. you looked to the right, spotting charles leaning against the hood of the red ferrari sitting underneath the streetlight a few houses down. you made your way over, smiling softly as you watched his eyes shift from your head to your heels. you were standing in front of him now as he looked at you with soft eyes, a smile on his face.

“as i suspected,” he smiled, “that dress is even better in person.”

you smiled back, pointing to the side of your lips, “you’ve got a bit of drool there, char.”

you both snickered as he placed his hand on the small of your back, leading you towards the passenger side door, “fermez-la.”

he opened the door, letting you climb in before he shut it after making sure your feet were all the way in. you watched as he walked around the front of the car, opening his own door before sliding inside.

he looked over at you, eyes taking in your figure again, “tu es belle,”

you smiled again, your heart pounding as he reached out and brushed a strand of hair from your face. you fought back the urge to nuzzle into his palm, his green eyes searching yours. you weren’t sure who leaned in first, but in what felt like a matter of seconds, you were leaning over the console as he kissed you passionately.

your fingers found the back of his neck, carding them through the strands on the back of his head. his had cupped your cheek, and everything about it seemed so right.

you found yourself shifting in your seat, slipping your heels off as you climbed over the console and straddled his lap. his hands gripped at your waist as you wrapped your own around his neck. his pupils were blown, lips puffy from kissing, hair fluffy from you running your fingers through it, and everything about him right now just looked so so good.

you leaned back down and met his lips, his soon traveling to the corner of your mouth, your jaw and eventually your neck. you sighed contently, leaning your head the opposite direction to give him more room. you went to shift your weight to get more comfortable, but you had accidentally grinded down on his hips. he groaned against your skin, sending shivers down your spine as his teeth grazed against the skin on your collarbone.

“my place?” he breathed out, leaving wet, open mouth kisses against your skin. his accent was getting thicker with each passing second your hands were on him, a sign that he was on the same page as you.

you nodded, “stass would kill me and you if you walked through the door.”

he chuckled softly, “yeah, i’d like to make it to see 26,”

you laughed softly, climbing back into your own seat and clicking in the seatbelt as he started the car. the rest of the drive was relatively quiet, except for charles’ playlist playing softly through the radio. his right hand found its place on your leg, his thumb moving slowly up and down the skin absentmindedly. you smiled out of the window, sure morally this wasn’t the best idea, but he makes every wrong decision feel so right.

once you arrived at his building and parked the car in the underground structure, the two of you made your way up to his apartment. he fished for the keys out of his pocket, you leaning your head on his shoulder, basking in the smell of his expensive cologne and the smell of his shampoo, the same scent that would linger for days whenever he’d sleep on your pillows. a smell you could never get enough of, the smell of home no matter how hard you tried to deny it.

once the door was opened and he placed his things by the door, the two of you were kicking off your shoes. you squealed as his arms wrapped around you, picking you up off the hardwood floor as he carried you down the hallway.

“charles!” you laughed. you could hear his chuckles as they echoed off the walls, his bedroom door opening as he placed you down softly on his sheets.

“i love it when you say my name,” his smirk sent shivers down your spine, his eyes scanning over your features for maybe the hundredth time tonight, “say it again.”

“charles,” you smiled back, his own smile lighting up his face, dimples making themselves prominent.

“again,” he urged and you laughed, shaking your head.

“no, i’m not saying it again.”

“please,” he pouted, “it sounds so good coming from you.”

you rolled your eyes playfully, giving in, because who could say no to him?

“charles,” you said it dramatically this time, “there. happy?”

“je t’aime.” he didn’t mean to say it, it kind of just spilled out of his mouth without a second thought. you blinked at him, waiting for him to mumble a ‘i take it back’ or ‘i wasn’t supposed to say that’, but his green eyes searched yours, a small smile on his lips.

was it worth going around and around in circles with him just to hear him say it? maybe, just a little bit.

okay, maybe a lot.

“char,” you whispered, he shook his head.

“i know you’re not ready, i’m not asking you to say it back right now, i just really needed to get it off my chest.”

the thing was, you loved him, too. you weren’t sure how to say it, but it physically hurt how much you loved him. it was like you were starved of oxygen before you met him, like he was your sun and you were beaming and glowing whenever he was around. you’d follow him anywhere, as long as he was yours.

sure, admitting it out loud was scary, but it was something you had already come to terms with. no one knew you like he did, and no one knew him like you did.

“i love you, too.” your arms linked around his neck as he smiled back down at you, a genuine smile. a smile so warm and bright that it made your heart beat a little bit faster.

“sois à moi,” he mumbled softly, “for real this time. no more 2am texts, no more circles, no more complications or sneaking around, just us. together, like how it should’ve been in the first place.”

“i’ve always been yours, charles.” it was true, wether he knew it or not.

“let me take you out,” he said, “a proper dinner, something you deserve.”

“only if you take me to that restaurant in the city,” you said, “the one with the fancy candles on the table.”

“anywhere you want, chérie,” he said, “as long as you wear this dress again.”

you smiled, “i suppose i can make that work.”

he leaned down and slowly kissed your lips, “so we have a deal?”

you nodded, your nose bumping his, “deal.”

[coryosmin]

exes and oh’s - sejanus plinth x fem!reader

summary: being heartbroken after breaking up with coriolanus, you’ve not left your house in a few days. but your best friend sej knows exactly how to make you move on from his best friend.

word count: 3,200

warnings: nsfw, mdni, coryo’s ex x sejanus, smut, p in v, shy reader, soft sejanus, praise kink, soft sex, fingering, oral (f receiving), sejanus plinth lives AU because he never died in my heart, crying during sex, sejanus is so cute, coryo makes an appearance at the end, NOT PROOF READ BECAUSE ITS 3 AM AND IM TOO TIRED SO I APOLOGIZE FOR TYPOS AND GRAMMAR ERRORS

being coriolanus’s girlfriend had been both great and bad. he always treated you relatively well, bringing you out on dates, getting you gifts, he was always so good in bed. however, he was also very jealous and possessive, constantly thinking you were cheating on him with everyone in the capitol. it got so bad that when you were out having lunch with your father, you came home to coriolanus in your apartment asking where the hell you had been and saying you were lying when you said you were with your father. so ultimately, you broke up with coryo, unable to handle the whole possessiveness thing any longer.

you were heartbroken to say the least. your breakup had been quite the blowout. when you mentioned coriolanus’s possessiveness and how toxic it was, he yelled at you, accusing you of cheating on him and that you were just looking for an excuse to leave him. so here you were, sitting on your couch crying to sejanus, yours and coriolanus’ best friend, about the breakup. sejanus held you close to him, letting you cry on his shoulder as he had his arms wrapped around you.

“i just don’t understand why he would say such hurtful things, you know?” you sniffled, leaning away from sej’s touch to look at him. your eyes were so red and puffy from crying, sejanus felt his heart break at your heartbroken look.

the curly haired boy sighed, shrugging his shoulders. “that’s just how coryo is, unfortunately,” he said, taking your hands in his. “he’ll attack first and regret later.”

“i just thought he really valued me, you know? he always treated me so well despite the possessiveness,” you exclaimed, taking a shaky deep breath.

sejanus looked at you with his soft brown eyes. he breathed in before replying. “i think, instead of dwelling on it, you should take this opportunity to forget about him,” he exclaimed.

you let out a dry, breathless laugh. “and how do you suppose i do that, sejanus? sleep with someone else? i’m not going to just sleep with anyone.”

“you could sleep with me,” sejanus said, looking at you seriously.

“what?” you asked, furrowing your eyebrows in confusion.

sejanus took a deep breath before clearing his throat. “you don’t want to sleep with just anyone,” he said, his voice neutral. “why not sleep with someone that cares about you?”

you shook your head in response, laughing in disbelief. “i’m not going to sleep with my ex’s best friend, sejanus.” you said.

“i’m your best friend too,” sejanus replied. “besides, you need to forget about him. and i’d be more than willing to help you.”

you thought about it for a moment, unsure of how to reply. sejanus was indeed your best friend. however, he was coryo’s before he became yours. wouldn’t he be betraying his best friend? “coryo would be so angry if he found out,” you replied, frowning.

“what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him,” sejanus replied softly, bringing your hand to his mouth, pressing a kiss to the back of it.

you couldn’t help the blush on your cheeks, looking at sejanus. his brown eyes looked into your eyes. his eyes were so soft and loving. you bit your lip. you couldn’t deny that part of you wanted to do it. sejanus was of course an attractive guy and very down to earth. he may be from the districts but that didn’t matter too much to you. you took a deep breath before replying. “okay, sej,” you whispered. “but only if you promise it won’t ruin our friendship afterward.”

sejanus let out a chuckle, nodding his head. “i promise,” he said, smiling at you. he leaned in, moving his face closer to yours. “are you sure, though?”

you licked your lips, nodding your head. “yes,” you murmured, your hot breath hitting sejanus’s face. and without anymore hesitation, sejanus kissed you gently on the lips. his kisses were so much more different compared to coriolanus’s. coryo had always kissed you hungrily, as if you’d disappear if he didn’t hold you close to him. sejanus’s kisses? well, he kissed you like you were delicate. like you were something to cherish. his lips were soft against yours, almost meaningful. and you couldn’t help the fluttering in your heart. though maybe that’s just due to being in an emotionally vulnerable state.

sejanus continued kissing you as he began to unbutton your blouse. and of course you let him. you did the same to him, unbuttoning sejanus’s dress shirt. ever since he had come back from district 12, he had focused on maintaining a specific image within the capitol, is clothes included. and therefore, he wore mostly button up and slacks most of the time as casual wear. you don’t know what had happened when he and coryo were away but you do know that sejanus came back more reserved than ever before.

sejanus finished unbuttoning your shirt, pulling it off of you and tossing the shirt to the side. sejanus pulled away from the kiss, looking at you with a small smile before looking down at your skin. you wore a simple black lace bra that cupped your breasts nicely. sejanus looked back into your eyes. “you’re so beautiful,” he murmured, pressing another kiss to your lips. “always so beautiful.”

you couldn’t help the blush on your cheeks as your heart fluttered. of course coriolanus had always called you pretty. but his words were never as sensual as sejanus’s are right now. “thank you,” you whispered bashfully. you bit your lip nervously.

sejanus smiled. “do you still want to continue?” he asked softly.

you nodded your head. “yes, please.”

“shall we move to your bedroom?” he asked gently.

you nodded your head once more. “yes,” you said. sejanus stood up, the tent in his pants quite obvious. his shirt was mostly unbuttoned, not all the way as you had stopped when he pulled away from the kiss. but you could see the toned muscles of his abs. he looked absolutely handsome. his curls had grown back a while ago, adding to his handsome look. you were about to stand up as well when suddenly sejanus stopped you. you looked up at him confused until he slid a hand underneath your legs and the other on your back, lifting you into his arms. “what are you doing?” you asked as he picked you up.

“if we're doing this, darling, we’re doing this the right way,” was all he said as he began carrying you. he had a grin on his face as he looked at you. you simply wrapped your arms around his neck, unable to help the smile on your face as you let yourself be carried to your bedroom.

sejanus placed you down gently onto your bed, your head on the pillows before standing back up. he unbuttoned his shirt the rest of the way before letting it fall to the floor. he wanted to make tonight special for you because you deserved to be treated respectfully and with adoration. sejanus knew that coryo was a harsh lover. you deserved to be cherished and taken care of. he moved onto the bed, positioning himself on top of you by holding himself up with his arms as he captured your lips with his again.

the kiss was sensual, slow, and gentle, just like sejanus was with you. you weren’t used to this gentleness, truthfully. with coryo, he would of course kiss you and take his time with you but his touches were rough, needy, desperate. coryo was a fantastic but selfish lover. but so far, with sej, it was opposite.

sejanus pulled away from the kiss, moving to kiss your neck. you moved your hands to caress sejanus’s back, feeling his muscles as he pressed gentle kisses to your neck. he pressed a kiss to your pulse point before licking it, causing you to gasp from the sensation. sejanus brought a hand down your body to the waistband of your slacks. he sucked on your pulse point, his fingers going underneath your pants and panties, using a finger to spread around your arousal.

you let out a soft moan, your eyes fluttering shut as you spread your legs for sej. sejanus began to gently rub your clit with two fingers, causing you to buck your hips. he pulled away from your neck, his lips moving gently down your body. he kissed your collarbone as he rubbed your clit. sejanus then stopped rubbing your clit, dipping one finger into your hole and thrusting it in and out gently. you moaned, looking at sejanus.

“you’re so wet for me, sweetheart,” sejanus murmured against your skin, looking at you with his pretty brown eyes. “does it feel good?” he asked you, curling his finger inside of you, causing you to moan a bit louder.

you nodded your head. “feels so good, sej,” you said, looking at your best friend.

sejanus smiled at your reaction. “i’m glad, beautiful,” he said, adding another finger. you mewled in response, your eyes fluttering shut. sejanus thrusted his fingers a bit faster, the digits curled to hit your g-spot repeatedly. you felt yourself getting closer, arching your back. “close already, beautiful?” he asked, placing a kiss on top of your right breast. “you’re doing so good for me. cum for me.”

and you came with a loud moan, clenching your walls around sejanus’s fingers and trying to clamp your thighs closed. he fingered you through your orgasm. and when you came down from your high and relaxed your body, he removed his fingers from inside of you and out of your pants, smiling at you. “you did so good, baby,” he said. his praise made you shutter. you always had a thing for praise and sejanus gave it so willingly. it warmed your heart a lot.

sejanus pulled back, kneeling at the end of the mattress as he unzipped your slacks, pulling them down along with your panties. he threw them to the side. he then leaned down, pressing kisses to your thighs. you watched him, biting your lip. “want you, sej,” you murmured.

sejanus smiled at you, looking up at you. “and you’ll have me,” he murmured back. “but let me take care of you first, yeah?”

and who were you to say no? so you nodded your head in response.

“take your bra off for me, beautiful,” he said, going back to pressing kisses onto both of your thighs. you reached behind yourself, unclasping your bra. you threw the bra off the bed, not really caring for where it landed. sejanus looked up to see your breasts, unable to help the moan that escaped his lips. “god you’re so gorgeous, sweetheart.”

you couldn’t help the blush forming on your face as sejanus looked at you. you were completely naked in front of him and he looked at you as though you were a piece of art that needed to be worshipped. and you absolutely adored it. sejanus spread your legs, moving his head between your thighs. you took a breath in anticipation before sejanus licked your slit, causing you to let out a shaky breath.

sejanus tongued your clit, looking up at you with his beautiful brown eyes. you let out a whine, your eyes fluttering shut. sejanus couldn’t help the small smirk on his lips as he looked at you. you were just so amazing and perfect. he absolutely adored you. sejanus began sucking on your clit and you reached a hand to grip his hair, arching your back. your other hand gripped your boob, massaging the flesh as sejanus continued eating you out. you couldn’t help tugging on sejanus’s hair, causing him to moan against your pussy.

you ground your hips against his face, adding more to your pleasure and sejanus loved it. “so close, sej,” you whined, bringing your other hand to his head. sejanus continued his ministrations with his tongue, sucking on your clit to help bring your release. and soon your thighs were clenching around sejanus’s head, a loud moan escaping your lips as you came for the second time that night.

when you came down from your high, sejanus lifted his head, getting up from the bed. his face was covered in your juices and his eyes were most certainly blown out. “gonna fuck you now, okay?” he breathed out, palming himself through his pants. he couldn’t help it at all. you were just so pretty and the noises you made were just so so sweet. and you tasted absolutely divine.

you nodded your head at sejanus. “please,” you said, breathing heavily from your orgasm. “need your cock so bad, sej, need it.” you practically whined.

sejanus cooed, unzipping his pants and pulling them down along with his boxers. “don’t worry, beautiful, gonna fuck you so good,” he said, revealing his cock to you. it was average but so girthy. you mewled at the sight of his cock, your pussy clenching around nothing. sejanus couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped his lips, moving back onto the bed and crawling on top of you.

he pressed a kiss to your lips, bringing his cock to your pussy. he spread your wetness around with the tip, letting out a shaky moan as he did so. you shuttered in overstimulation as he ran the tip on your clit. he then brought his cock to your hole, slowly pushing inside of you. you let out a moan at the stretch, it stinging due to the girth. sejanus pressed a kiss to your lips to distracted you from the pain. you kissed him back, your hands gripping sejanus’s back as he continued to ease his cock inside of you.

when he was fully in you, sej stayed still, not moving so that you could adjust to his size. you guys continued kissing as you waited. and after a few moments, you pulled away from the kiss, looking into sej’s eyes. “you can move,” you whispered.

sejanus let out a shaky breath, nodding his head. he moved his cock out of you before thrusting it back in gently. the both of you moaned, your mouths agape in pleasure. “fuck, you’re so tight and wet, beautiful,” sejanus said, still looking into your eyes as he moved his hips slowly.

“so thick inside me, sej,” you breathed out.

sejanus leaned down to kiss you again, maintain a slow pace as one of his hands moved to grip yours, intertwining your fingers. “you’re so gorgeous,” he murmured against your lips. “you deserve to be treated good.” he said.

your heart swelled from sejanus’s words, an onset of emotions hitting you. he was treating you so good with holding your hand, being so gentle, giving you words of praise. you couldn’t it when tears welled in your eyes, feeling emotionally vulnerable in that moment. a few tears escaped your eyes, causing sejanus to frown and stop his movement. “what’s wrong?” he asked, looking at you with a concerned expression. “do you wish to stop?”

you sniffled, shaking your head no. “i’m sorry,” you apologized. “you’re treating me so good, got emotional,” you said softly, looking up at sej with teary eyes.

sejanus let out a breath of relief, leaning down to kiss your forehead. “it’s okay to get emotional, princess,” he said softly, his free hand that was holding him up moving so he could rest on his forearm. “do you want to continue or for me to stop?”

“please continue,” you said, bringing a hand to wipe your tears.

sejanus gave you a small smile. “you sure?”

“more than sure.”

and with that, sejanus continued his thrusts, causing you to moan and arch your back. he moved his hips a bit faster, not enough to be rough but just enough to make a really good rhythm. “you feel so good, princess,” sejanus murmured, bringing his head down towards your ear. “taking my cock so well,” he said.

you moaned in response, closing your eyes in pleasure. sejanus angled his hips a certain way, causing his cock to hit your g-spot repeatedly. you let out a loud whine and moan, gently scratching sejanus’s back. he let out a groan of pleasure, burying his face in your neck. his hips continued their gentle but fast pace, making the familiar heat tighten in your abdomen. sejanus’s cock stiffened inside of you, signaling he was close.

“you’re clenching around me so good, beautiful,” sejanus breathed out, his lips brushing against the skin on your neck. “gonna cum on my cock?”

you nodded your head in response. “yes, sej. i’m so close,” you moaned out.

“such a good girl,” he grunted, moving his a bit faster as he chased both of your orgasms. “go ahead, baby, cum on my cock.”

his words brought you over the edge as you let out a sob of pleasure, arching your back as you came hard around sejanus’s cock. the clenching of your walls made sejanus moan loudly as he released inside of you. “oh fuuuck,” sejanus moaned out, thrusting his hips to ride out both of your orgasms.

and when you both finished, sejanus pulled out, laying down next to you. you both breathed heavily, relishing in the post orgasmic bliss. sejanus turned his head to look at you as you looked at him. “i hope that helped,” he sighed.

you smiled, nodding your head. “it did, a lot,” you murmured. “thank you, sej.”

“anything for you, beautiful,” he replied.

suddenly, you heard a knock on the front door. you frowned as you hadn’t expected anyone to be coming over tonight, let alone at this time of night. “i’ll be right back,” you said, getting up from the bed. sejanus nodded his head at you as you walked over to grab your robe, putting it on and tying the belt around your waist to cover yourself up.

you walked out of your bedroom door, making your way to the front door. taking a deep breath, you opened the front door. and there, tall and blond, stood coriolanus snow with a bouquet of roses and red-brimmed eyes, looking down at you. you stood there shocked, your heart pounding in your chest at the realization of what you had just done.

and at that moment, sejanus walked out of your bedroom, dressed in his clothes but hair clearly disheveled. “who’s at the door?” sejanus asked, walking to stand behind you before looking at who was at the door. his eyes widened as he saw coriolanus standing there with now a confused and angry look on his face.

“what the fuck is this?” coriolanus asked angrily, his voice cracking as he spoke. and in that moment, he didn’t care because it most definitely does hurt to find out that his best friend fucked his ex girlfriend.

[homesickn]

My Heart

Soft!dark Loki x Reader. (Ghostface!Loki)

Loki is your special guide on an acting play in Asgard. How will it turn out? It will certainly be a Scream!

(Scream-inspired, ghostface!Loki, he's a bit obsessive too, who could have guessed?)

Warnings: this fic is exclusively explicit +18, a lot of blood, Dom!Loki, angst (at least reader cries a lot), stalking, Loki is a bit mean at times, blood kink, murder, psychological horror, possessive Loki, obsessive Loki, dark!Loki, scared reader. Be safe! ;)

You were fixing your hair and taking a look at the fancy dressing options for the official play, taking place in the center of Asgard, a place properly dedicated for cultural artistic exposition.

A bunch of the most famous actors throughout all of Asgard were coming to interpret roles in the huge theater near the castle, as an official tradition. Asgard is often envied in the matter of culture and in their specific field of acting art.

You've never felt more treasured, it surely felt gifting to be able to experience such an unique phenomenon, to be invited to such a thing.

And you're human. It feels a whole lot to you.

Far away from your home on Earth.

As much as it bothered you, you had to keep your mind off the annoying sting in your chest. You came here for an honorable reason, to represent as a Midgardian diplomat, settled by Thor to help him with his rules and studies for Asgard and the other realms, as he already knew you, he thought you to be the perfect fit. You don't want to disappoint.

But this loneliness is unlike any other, you can't help but wonder how your family and friends are doing, at home. You could fully say with conviction that the only friend you have is the godly Avenger that swore to protect you through your journey out of your original realm.

You were okay with it, until you had to get down and face the real world. You wore the very detailed white royal dress that most appealed to your eyes, and went downstairs to meet with the known blond just waiting for your presence, awkwardly messing with his…formal, hero cape.

He says your name with hesitance, “I'm so sorry, my friend. I truly am, I won't be able to attend the event,” he expresses, you frown and press your hand to your heart.

“What? You're the only friend I have here, am I supposed to go alone?” You're quick to ask.

“You can go with Loki,” he mentions the dark prince, you blink.

Loki wasn't a bad man to you, from what you've known of him, you're not a judgemental person, you don't like going for other people's words. But he's known on Earth for being a murderer, you watched the news, even though you weren't present during the attack you still could feel the pain that all those victims went through. It felt like you're betraying them, like you're hurting them by thinking of befriending the god.

However, since you've shown up on Asgard, Loki has been nothing but amicable to you. You just hesitated considering him a friend, whatsoever, he's a person you've —unfortunately — come to admire.

Whenever he passes by your sight is attached to him, as if you've been hypnotized, he's charming, pleasing to be around, your sense of humor matches a lot from what you've had the pleasure of discovering of him.

“Loki?” You repeat, letting the name echo through the walls of the castle. You're momentaneously afraid you've summoned him with the name.

“Yes, he's not too bad,” Thor looks a bit embarrassed of having to state so. “He's kind when you spend time with him, I know he'll treat you well. And if there's one thing my brother loves more than anything, is the events that involve acting around here. You have to see just how bright his eyes sparkle when he watches the plays, and this one in particular is one of his favorites. We used to watch it with father when we were younger.” 

You were now enchanted by Thor's description, your eyes shining at the idea of having someone acknowledged to teach you more of something you already enjoy so much, you're also a huge fan of acting, and theatrical acting was a hidden passion you've always adored. 

The thought of Loki liking this so much excites you, because you love surrounding yourself with enthusiastic people, you love seeing them being passionate about what they love. You thought it wouldn't be so bad to have a guide, it is definitely a better option than to go just by yourself, or to refuse and stay in bed for the day.

“Well…” You think for a second, looking around then coming back to Thor. “I don't see why not.” You shrug your shoulders, the blond god gives you a bright smile and says he'll catch him for you.

You wait at the entrance, looking all like a real princess waiting for her prince to take her to a royal ball. 

“This is too fancy for me,” you look down at yourself, somehow feeling a sense of imposter syndrome. Feeling unbelonging, too human for this, it's way more than you could ever dream of. “I shouldn't be here.” 

“Now, why would you say such a thing?” A low soft voice asks you from nowhere, you jolt as you turn quickly, recognizing the owner of the voice.

Loki gulps as he shares eye contact with you, glancing down at your pretty dress, you take a moment to appreciate his beautiful princely outfit, black and green, with tiny golden sparkling details. His body seemingly just fit for the measures of the clothes, you think you've lost your breath for a second. 

He smirks as he catches you staring.

“Princess?” Your heart flutters a little, you swear your legs feel a bit shaky from the endearment. 

“I'm not a princess,” you hurry to correct, your cheeks heating up against your will.

“You look just like one. You can be a princess, and if you don't like it, you have the experience for the night.” He offers his hand to you with a charming smile.

“No one would believe I'm a princess, prince Loki.” You challenge him.

“They will if I treat you like one,” he licks his lips and his eyes give you such softness you could melt again. Another pang, the betrayal, the attack on Earth.

You're the one to gulp nervously now, taking your eyes off of him and looking to the road ahead.

“You don't need to, it's fine,” and you quickly hurry to change the subject before he can protest. “Shall we go? Otherwise we'll miss the time. Nobody likes being late.”

★

You and Loki arrive at the festival together, getting off the carriage, he offers his hand again when you're exiting, like a true gentleman.

There's a lot of drinking, dancing, and singing. The theater is still empty waiting for the actors to arrive. Your excitement is likely palpable, Loki could swear he feels it radiating off of you. 

“It's okay, princess,” he says loud enough for others to hear, placing his arms around you. You blush but refuse to protest, he gives you a knowing look and a mischievous smile. “We can have our fun before the show. Let me show you around all the cultural Asgardian beauty.”

They had a lot of variable types of drinks, a lot of dancing presentations for people to watch, and the singers had the most amazing intonations that your ears could be blessed to hear. You couldn't believe how lucky you were, to be able to humanely get in touch with the art from the gods themselves.

The harp brought an etheric touch to all the singing, the harsh intoning of the words whilst they sung something in their native languages, deep voices to match their godly vocal chords. Be it from the realm they were, your heart clenched in delight from all the admiring.

Loki was an impeccable guide, showing you some popular dishes, giving you the most delectable desserts, and watching the performances with you. Thor was right, you could see the special touch he had with art, it was as if he forgot everything else around him when he got close to it. 

“This play will be my favorite,” he musters and you stop to listen, carefully. His voice is low but the smile he's wearing really makes you interested in what he has to say. It's like a secret you're two are sharing.

“What's the name of the play?” You couldn't believe Thor hadn't told you this before, you felt a bit ignorant towards the conversation. Loki puts his hands on your back again to calm your nerves down.

“The Masquerade,” he almost whispers. Like a real secret, almost as if he could read you.

“Oooh,” you teasingly express. “The Masquerade, such an interesting name, will they wear the masks?” For a second you feel dumb to ask, Loki only laughs a little and rubs your back to comfort you.

“Yes, yes, they will. I truly hope you find it as beautiful as I do.” His eyes sparkle with a sprinkle of mischief among the kindness. 

“I probably will,” you say more to yourself than to him. If he thinks it's beautiful, there's one more reason for you to like it, there's a special key to the piece, they caught someone's love before you've met it. “What's it about, anyways?”

He looks down at you due to the height difference and brings his gaze back to your eyes, deep piercing blue staring right into you, you feel a bit sick from the closeness. 

“It's…uhh,” he pauses, a bit sheepish, you never thought you'd see the infamous, 'evil' god of mischief looking embarrassed to talk about something he loves. He clears his throat. “It talks about several people meeting at a Masquerade ball, one of them, the leader, —who is the murderer, but it's a fact unknown to the characters of the play— wears a mask that resembles the face of a comical ghost, it may sound a bit silly, but it's really symbolic. It has the horror of course, putting the thrill aside.” He still blushes to say.

He continues.

“The thrill of having to discover who is responsible for the murders whilst everyone worries because their lives are at risk, you don't know which ones you trust, there's just…something about it that makes me terrified, I think that's why I'm so invested in the story.” He manages to explain to you. “But I really like it, I've even read the scripts before, a few times. I had the pleasure of reading the original one when it was created.”

Your eyes widen as he says it all. “I love these kinds of things! The mystery!” You exclaim. “I love it, and we'll get to see who's actually the murderer at the end, right? Sometimes I tend to get my intuitions wrong,” you joke.

He chuckles, a bit surprised. “Yes, of course. Where would be the fun if we never get to know who did it all?”

“And you're quite old, huh?” You give a teasing smile, he shakes his head, smiling too. “You know so many things from so many years ago.”

“Don't let this disappoint you, I hope.” There's a glint and the softness he always presents to you. You feel queasy, you feel happy. “Your mortality is not an issue here.”

As the festival went on, even the Warriors did their own little stunt to occupy the time, but the actors never arrived. You were starting to get a bit restless, you wanted to watch the show and you feared you wouldn't get to see what Loki so lovingly shared with you.

Everybody gave out a gasp of exasperation when all the lights of the event were turned off. People immediately sighed a bothered "blackout", but even the candles were blown off, leaving everyone in a sea of darkness swallowing all the excitement there was before.

“We can't enjoy the event without lights!” One of the warriors complained, you couldn't quite remember his name.

“Why can't I light the candle? The fire just doesn't lit,” someone complained loudly. “Where is a God of Fire when you need one?”

“I bet that's all because Thor's not here!”

You turn your head around the annoyed complaints of the people, listening to them all in confusion. Loki made sure to appease everyone telling us that we should all stay calm, that the problem will probably be solved soon.

“How could we know? We can't trust this snake!” Someone screamed, pointing at Loki.

“I'm the prince, and I was raised to rule,” Loki had a stern expression as he spoke. “Whether you like it or not, it's true. As Thor is gone for now, I will listen to all the complaints you have.”

“I bet he did it on purpose!” An old Asgardian lady yelled behind the crowd.

“Why would I? I have nothing to gain from this, it's just more of a headache for me,” he said annoyed now, he probably couldn't handle accusations when all he was trying to do is enjoy something he loves.

“He wanted to watch the show like everybody else,” you awkwardly meek the words out, you felt ashamed as soon as they came out and the people looked at you.

“This trickster has watched the same play a thousand times!” Someone gestured rudely with their hands. “He knows every detail probably, he's not doing anything for us.”

“Silence!” Loki orders, “I will not tolerate insolence! You wish to complain, you do so, but meanwhile, I'll put my best efforts to fix the issue.”

You thought the blackout was going to last for maybe a few minutes, but after a while with each sound of nature echoing throughout the open space, you questioned if you're wrong after all. Why was everyone still in the dark? The complaints were now too loud for your ears.

And the worst part is that you've lost sight of Loki. You remind yourself of some old men pulling him by his sleeves, you try to remember what the men's faces looked like, but it remains unsuccessful.

Your heart is quaking with anxiety, he was your only access to hanging out around Asgard, without Thor around or his trusted brother, you feel completely at loss. 

Furiously looking around the place to check if there's anything you can find, whilst others are starting to grab their things to go away.

A sudden light hits the entire circle, a brighter light stinging the people's sight and coming from the theater stage. You hiss and move your gaze, trying to fathom what it's going on.

“The actors are never going to come.” Says a terrified man among the crowd, he's gasping as he looks at the empty stage. What does he mean by that? “Where's the King?! Where's Thor?!”

“We have to run!” An old lady screams, bumping your shoulders as she runs in the opposite direction, grabbing all her stuff. You're still confused but you recompose yourself and immediately try to go somewhere darker.

You scramble through your mind to think of where Loki may be at, you don't want to imagine him suffering with any possible attacks. And your eyes fickle to the golden castle sticking close to the theater area. 

You imagine that's the place where they might've taken Loki to, so you run there, readying yourself to the presence of an unquiet Loki, or maybe a tired, questioning Thor, wondering what all the fuss is about, both the princes immediately trying to solve the problems. You'd run and embrace yourself in the feeling of safety around their presence.

Instead of that, the castle was all empty, you knitted your eyebrows as your skin shivered from the cold you felt in the air. The golden castle has never been so cold, and it seems all the lights have gone out here too.

You're alone. There are no palace staff even, no cooks, no nurses, the princes are nowhere in sight. Alone. And it frightens you, you feel the loneliness ripping your bones as you wonder if staying with the angry mob would be a greater idea than trying to come to the castle.

You hear a ringing way too loud for the quiet atmosphere, you recognize the sound of your cell phone ringing. You run to where your temporary room is, and grab the vibrating phone in your hands. 

You're puzzled, it's odd. It isn't supposed to function, it never does. Who would want to call you when you're so far from Earth? 

Nobody here has a phone connection, so why does it work? Could it be someone from Earth calling you?

You'd probably ask Thor about this later, but you see the number is unknown. You ask yourself if it's possible for the marketing programs to call you even from another realm of distance. You muffle a small laugh as your mental joke eases your nerves.

You hesitantly accept the call, feeling curious.

“Hello?! Is anybody there??!” The raspy male voice questions frantically, it seemed almost robotic, sounding like they're out of breath, you can hear a tiny sob coming from the other line.

“Y-yes, who is it?” You shiver as you listen to your own voice ringing in the closed room.

“Please! Please help me!” The weird voice pleads you. “Please, I found this device out in the blackout, I don't know where I am. But I have you. Please help me.”

You try to shush him calmly. But you're scared as you're still alone, and the voice calling you sounds male but unrecognizable. 

“Look I'm sorry, I'm not a person you should be calling right now, I'm really lost too.” You try to explain peacefully, your chest aching from feeling useless. “Please, forgive me,” You hang up.

Seconds later as you ready yourself to leave, organizing all the important stuff, there's the ringing again. You groan loudly and answer the call.

“Hello?!”

“Are you alone?” He asks, giving another sob through the line. “I'm sorry if you are, I just feel uneasy.”

“I'm packing my things to go face an angry mob of people. Why did you call me back? I told you I can't help you.”

“You'd rather face some angry people than help me?” He asks, quite stressed, all of a sudden sounding a bit angry. Your body stills on the spot.

“I don't know who you are!” He sighs as he hears you.

“That's fair.” A silence rings. You sigh and hang up again.

As you walk out the room, the phone rings again.

“I was testing you, I know a woman that's alone shouldn't come around to help people they don't know, you're really smart.”

“Is it you again?” You ask out of patience.

“What are you doing now?” He sounds more curious.

“I told you, I'm packing my things.”

“Why are you lying to me?” You freeze.

“...Excuse me?” You look around and check if there's anyone that saw you leave your room. “Also, wait. How do you know I'm alone? I never told you I was…”

“Were you on the play?” He changes subject.

“I-uhm…Yeah, I was. I wanted to watch it- yeah. Now answer my question!” You respond feeling incredibly uneasy.

“I was there too. Are you also human?”

“Me? Yes, I'm the Midgardian. You're from Earth?” You walk and get giddier on the call, someone from Earth in Asgard would bring you more familiarity. For a minute you forgot your question remained unanswered. 

“Was just curious. Thor likes you a lot. He speaks a lot about you.”

“Thor? Yeah, he's my friend...” You wonder why the stranger is bringing him to the topic.

“I think I found a light, will you stick on the line until I reach it?”

“Sure thing.” You don't know why, though you don't see anything wrong with waiting. Your every move is still shaky from fear.

“You never told me your name.” He says suggestively, you hurry down the stairs and breathe out the next words.

“Why do you wanna know my name?” 

“Because I want to know who I'm looking at.” A shiver runs down your spine. Like a whiplash, you feel observed as you search your surroundings.

“...What?”

“I wanna know who I'm talking to.”

“That's not what you said.”

“What do you think I've said?” He asks, feigning confusion. 

You rush to the entrance only to notice the doors are locked, your hands shaking as you knock the door repeatedly to call attention from the outsiders. You're sure the stranger heard you banging the door through the call. Shit.

You don't say anything as you hang up this time. You try to compose your breathing, the phone rings once again but you don't move to accept the call.

“Someone!! Help me!” You loudly call, waiting for a response, a sign, anything. The dark was even scarier after the call you received, the cold all too threatening, like a bunch of invisible eyes looking under your skin.

After some moments of silence passing through your weeping eyes, you're fighting to keep the sobs hidden by putting your hand to your mouth to muffle the noise.

You kneel down, body glued to the door, holding it for dear life, your heartbeat a bit too loud for your eardrums. You're hugging your knees in a position of defeat as your body trembles with each sob.

You're wondering if the Asgardians had evacuated the castle and forgotten about you. You wondered if Loki forgot about you.

Your phone rings.

“Don't you hang up on me again or I'll make sure you're the first one to get killed.” Your sobs get even louder. “I'll gut you like a fish and feed your organs to the wolves!”

“What are you doing?! Who are you?!” You ask, clenching your fist to your chest. The rough voice from the other line chuckling from your questions.

“Does it matter, sweetheart? You want out, don't you? Poor thing, locked alone in the castle…”

“Please…don't hurt me…”

“You've told me once you like scary stuff, thrillers.” You fight not to hyperventilate. “Let's try some method acting, shall we?”

“No…no I don't. I don't like this shit.” You grit your teeth.

“You do, sweetheart. Don't lie to me. Don't you want to join my play? I planned it just for us, I thought you wanted to watch it. I can make you a star.”

“What?! No…” You cry.

The door opens out of a sudden and your body falls to the dirty earthy ground. You leave a groan, when your head lifts you're surprised by the dark that's out in the wild, the only light being the stars above your head and the vast bright moon occupying the sky.

You lift yourself with trembling knees and hear a voice coming from the phone. 

“If you ignore me one more time I'll fucking cut your neck off, you stupid little bitch!” The person threatens and you visibly recoil, throwing the phone very far away, ignoring his instructions and running for dear life.

Panting on your way through the golden speckled Asgardian trail out of the castle, darkened by the lack of lightning that you find in the way, you breathe as best as you can, ignoring the fear clutching your heart and the tears pricking your eyes, face puffy and your nose beginning to stuff.

“Damn it,” you tremble and fall in your steps. Sobbing to the air. “Shit, shit…” You curse to the skies as you try to regain your steadiness.

You start listening to a noise behind you, shuffling the bushes and startling you even more. When you pay attention, there are a pair of black boots making their way out of the bushes, right to your direction. A cloak covers down their ankles while your eyes widen. 

You don't stay behind to care for whom it may be, nor wait to check their face, and you keep running.

You're startled as a man comes to your line of vision, screaming, frantic. You tremble and end up falling backwards on the ground, he falls on top of you. Your hands are punching him to move off of you but he seemed just as frightened as you were.

He also noticed your punches were much weaker than the touches the gods carry. The strength they have. He supposed you were a human.

“Oh thank the Lord!” He praises God, and your face is entirely a mix of fear and anxiety, the tears making it very uncomfortable to keep your eyes open. “Thank the Heavens, you have to save me!”

“No!” You scream, pushing him away. A human. He doesn't fool you, he's the damn murderer that's been stalking you. You push his figure behind and he falls off his steps.

And then a knife craves his stomach, your eyes are wide and you're nauseated. The blood speckles to your terrified face. You can't help the scream that leaves you.

You quickly hurry to move up and keep on the run, suddenly someone grabs you by your neck, pulling your whole body up effortlessly, scaring all the breath out of your body.

You're pale as you realize the person is masked, wearing a ghost face mask and a cloak covering their entire body. The person from that was following you, the murderer.

“W-who…” You're fighting, clutching the gloved fingers holding you up and choking you by your pulse. “Who…I-I can't- breathe…” You say between resistant breaths.

“I told you not to ignore me, didn't I? I didn't think I'd need to repeat myself. You seemed like a pretty clever girl.” You recognized the voice from the phone.

“Please…”

“Don't beg, sweet. You're right where I want you to be.” He turns your body, clinging to you, pressing a knife near where his hand was, on your neck. This hand is now resting on your stomach. “I was waiting for this the whole night.”

“What?” You squirm around his grip, wanting to get out.

He clutches your face, forcing you to look at the stage. The one that was before empty, and now, is filled with decorations and blood stains. Your bile raised up to your throat.

Your eyes widened in fear and filled with terrified tears, you could barely hold your screech as you paid attention to the calculated amount of bodies on the floor of the stage.

You were now fully hitting him even though your limbs were being held tight, you still tried to escape.

“Don't be scared, princess.” A shiver runs through your skin, your whole face must be a mix of sweat and tears. It's like everything is turning in your head, dizzying you. Princess. 

Cruel joke. Must be a cruel coincidence, a cruel joke against you. You imagined the killer heard the nickname Loki called you, you could only hope Loki was coming to save you anytime. Maybe he knew how much you liked him.

“Don't be scared, we're only starting the show.” He carries your body up and takes you closer to the stage, all while you punch him as best as you can with full fists. He doesn't seem to be affected by your weak punching.

“Shh, now.” He calms you through your breakdown, shushing you and moving a piece of your hair that was sticking on your forehead due to your sweating. “Shh, you'll like this game, I promise.”

“Game?” You repeat with a gasp, mouth open in fright. “I don't wanna play anything, you freak! You monster!” You try to jump off his embrace but he's stronger and clutches his hold onto you with more strength. “Please, let me go…”

“Come on, princess.” He calls through your cries, placing you down on a throne-looking piece in front of the stage, when you touched it, it felt so…real. You wondered how anyone would be able to bring a real golden throne to this place, you wondered if it was like the one the Asgardian King has.

“A real throne for a princess.” You felt the goosebumps rise one more time, bringing your attention out of your senses, as you looked at the masked freak. “You can't get out of this.” He says and you notice you can't move your hands, you actively scream out, really scared at being unable to move.

“What are you doing?! Why?” You wonder, and he touches your face delicately, the ghost face giving you a cold feeling down your spine, your eyes bright with tears as you look up to him. 

He moves your face a bit, to get you to look at the stage instead of himself. 

“We're just going to play a game, my princess.” He softly says, as much as his raspy voice can muster. You start shaking your head in denial, frantically. 

“Please, no. You've had your fun, I promise I won't tell, please! Let me go!!” 

“You wanted to watch the play, we're going to do so. You just have to guess who's the one that's guilty. If you get it right, nothing happens, and you get a reward. If you get it wrong, we're going to have even more fun.”

“Why are you doing this?” He doesn't respond, he keeps his hands on your shoulders as you watch ahead.

The play starts, a terrified man tries to run you, but he's interrupted like there's a wall in the way. 

“Please, help me! I'm innocent, I need to go away.”

You try to move your hands but you can't. The Ghostface whispers in your ears. 

“Do you trust him, sweetheart? It's in your hands.” 

You shake your head and close your eyes, desperately trying to ignore the scene in front of you. More characters came into the scene.

“Don't worry about the actors, sweetheart,” his whispering was almost so soft for the fake covering voice, hidden behind the mask. “That man, the one that just screamed,” he points his knife to the man that's staring at him with big scared eyes. “He was wanted as a criminal, his reward was worth thousands of gold for arson, murder and sexual abuse.”

“S-so you don't think sexual abuse is correct?” You ask before even thinking, just feeling a wave of relief.

“What?” He sounds surprised for a second. “Why would I–? Oh, sweet? You thought I'd hurt you like this?” His voice sounded different at the moment he realized, like it really hit him somehow. “I'd never do this to you, there's no need to worry about that, I think it's the most disgusting of all crimes.” He says tilting the knife, you gulp not knowing what to do, but gratefully accepting the fact the killer had moral limits about this. At least.

“Pick one.” You realize you've barely paid attention to the play, to the actors moving.

“Please…” You keep on begging, maybe that'll help, but it gets him even more out of patience. “Please, I can't play with people's lives!” 

“You should know what you were getting into before coming here.” He gets closer to your face, you only wish your hands could work so you could pull his mask off to know who he is. “Come on, pick one.”

All the characters looked terrified, one wore a sillier mask of the Ghostface that was beside you, purposely seeming fake and cheaper. You start shaking, it'd be too obvious to pick the Ghostface that's acting, he's supposed to be the story's murderer. No one was actually killed during the act, they just pretended to kill.

“Do you think he did it?” The real killer asks beside you, almost sitting by your side close to your throne. He steps in front of you, steps clear and slow as his boots hit the ground, making you fixated on his every move. “You've been looking at him.” He takes something out of his cloak, and you almost can't believe it when he pulls out a gun and shoots the guy wearing the leader's mask.

“NO!” You scream loudly, hoping to reach his ears before he finishes the murderous act. 

A few more very loud shots were done, the stage was now shining with the stranger's dark red blood, and the actors were all shaking, shivering, on their best attempts at holding their cries, because they didn't want to be a part of it, they're afraid they'll be the next.

“This play is originally Midgardian,” he said, ignoring your cries. “Being written decades ago, only modern versions have this new weapon so the characters would be killed at a distance. I think it's practical for our current game.”

“NO, NO, NO, THAT'S HORRIBLE! STOP, STOP THIS, LET ME LEAVE! I DIDN'T PICK HIM, I DIDN'T WANT HIM TO DIE!” You scream and your whole body is shaking as you feel the guilt racking through your bones.

You feel his gloved hands caress your arms. 

“Sweet,” his strange voice keeps calling you. “Princess, please, look at me. Look at me,” His glove is tainted with dark blood, staining the rich dark black material. He tilts your chin up to make you look at his masked face. You feel even more afraid, the unfamiliarity and fear burning up your body. 

You can't stop crying, and your sobs are becoming louder and louder. 

“Look at me. It's okay, remember what I told you? He didn't deserve to live. He was supposed to go through the death penalty anyways.” You didn't know if you trusted his words. You were scared. Terrified. Shaking, and now feeling so guilty you couldn't even think about being saved. 

What if they put the blame on you? What about the disgust the princes will feel about you? You feel tainted, dirty, like you killed him yourself, with your bare hands.

You couldn't handle that, you didn't want to take the man's life. You couldn't stop looking at the blood, the smell of iron now clinging close to where you're stuck at.

“Please, let me go. You got what you wanted.” You try one more time.

“You think I got what I wanted?” His hands strongly hold your already immobile wrists. “Princess, I could do this anytime I wished, but I want you.” He says and you shiver even more. “I want you to be the star. My Queen. The one they admire, I want you to stay with me.”

“What? W-what do you mean by that?”

“Thor is not coming back.” He says almost too softly, nonchalant, apathetic, you want to throw up. You're feeling dizzy, there's a knot in your stomach and you don't know what to do. 

“What?! What? What??! Why? What have you done to him?! What about Loki?!” You cry and beg for answers.

He chuckles. The mask moving with each small laugh he lets out, you want to rip it off his face. This person you already hate so much.

“It's so sweet of you, it matches your nickname. Sweet, sweet, darling thing. It's so beautiful to know just how much you care about me.” He moves the mask off his face and you're unmoving, you go completely limp as you stare at the face you admired before, the tears wouldn't go away.

Were they correct this whole time? You've been considering a psychopath as your friend this whole time?

“L-Loki?” You hate how you stutter as you say his name, you hate to see him smile at that. You hate that you don't hate him, because your brain can't link the murders to him. Not him. “Loki, why?” 

“My father made me love this play, he taught me everything. I was here when it was created, Odin thought of the leaders like brave warriors, soldiers. The weaker ones got killed first but only he remained.” Loki's voice now sounded so suave to your ears, you imagined the strange one must have been granted through his magic and illusions.

“Such a beautiful story, sweetheart. It has so many layers, I can't wait for you to get involved in this artwork as much as I do.” His smile was so bright you felt nauseated, you couldn't even speak. “Look at the irony, look at it! The Norns must love me! Odin died first, he isn't here to present my thriving. I'm the only one that's left, the leader, the King, the ruler. I'm winning now, and the act is going on!”

He conjures a knife and presses it close to your neck, making you yelp and jump a little out of the chair. You're surprised you can move now, but he still grabs you forcefully and pulls you up to him. 

“I was the one that made Thor bring you here. I was paying attention to you for so long, it didn't take much convincing until the oaf agreed, he even befriended you. You have no idea how long I've had to wait with my nerves at bay.” His jealousy was visible as he spoke and you shook from his words.

“Look at them. The blood of the undeserving, the weak ones. We are above them, my princess. You and me. We can win this game. I'd never, ever, hurt you.” He says the last sentence with a seriously cold expression, you open your mouth and leave out a loud cry. His frown deepen.

“What's wrong? I thought you wanted to see how the play goes?”

“Not like this. Please…Loki…” You feel his hand reaching under the skin of your dress, pulling it up and moving to caress your thigh. You feel perverted as your eyes open and you look at the blood and the terrified faces among the stage.

You take the moment he's distracted to rush out of his grip, he's caught unexpectedly so his knife accidently cuts your shoulder, you grunt from the small wound. 

You turn to leave as quickly as you can, Loki chuckles to himself, thinking about how cute it is, that you think you can be quicker than him. That you're trying to escape, it's what a really smart princess would do, to be brave enough to try.

You pass through bushes, a weird unknown garden to you, wanting to find anyone else that was there before, anyone from the crowd that was running away, screaming loudly your pleas for help that no one hears. 

You look behind, not seeing him makes you even more uneasy. You can feel his presence near you, you don't know where he is. 

There's a particular downhill area you didn't see right in front of you, you accidently fall. Your legs failing you and hitting the ground from a long altitude distance, cutting your face and any naked skin you're letting out, your bones felt the fall and you curse how stupid you were not to pay attention.

Your skin is tainted with dirt, your face now on the ground. You think your foot is out of place as you groan out in pain, it hurts to move it. You can't believe you could ever be so stupid. Your dress is so painfully yellow after all the dirt.

You cry like a little kid.

You're surprised when your phone —the one you threw away — is right next to you, ringing and intact. Your face is so puffy from the fall, and because of all the crying, all the fear.

You move your arms and hold it close to your ears. “Hello?” Your voice trembles.

“I should have told you, you can't run away from me, darling.” Loki's voice echoes through your mind now, you almost feel it like a safety blanket covering your skin after the defeat, you don't know if you should accept the loss or not. Like a balm, a salve. 

He's the one that hangs up this time.

You feel a pair of arms holding you up with him, cozying you into his arms, so you can peacefully rest your head onto his chest, still covered by the dark cloak.

He pats your head, letting his hand softly caress your back as you lay in his arms, he's carrying you somewhere else.

You see the people now, the Asgardians, and the actors from before. So you quickly put your head back to Loki's chest again, wishing to hide away.

“I shouldn't have just thrown it on you like that,” he keeps his soft touches on your clothed back, his magic cleaning the dirt on your skin, balming the wounds. “It takes a lot from someone, but you're so pretty when you're scared. I got carried away, I'm so sorry.” He quickly apologizes after he says so, you keep hidden, not wishing to speak.

He sighs tiredly, he massages your scalp, you almost mewl like a kitten when he does it. Your heart still aches with fear and he tears up at your shivering, afraid he's broken you.

“To all the Asgardians,” he begins, voice loud and authoritative. “I expect all of you to do your normal duties tomorrow, everyone in their expected places. I'll have the lights fixed after I have my fun.” His fingers massage your scalp as he mentions that. His other hand holds you up by your buttocks, he's steadying you in his arms.

Unknowingly to your hiding self, the Asgardians nod tearfully and all so scared of his statements. They all were quivering under Loki's gaze. He seemed like a true mad King to their eyes. 

To Loki, he's never been more sane, this is all he ever wanted, he's got you in his arms now. And Thor is gone. He's a King.

“To the actors,” he looks at the frightened crew still in their respective places. “I expect a full play. Just as we planned.” He gestures to them to continue, they lock eyes with each other and look at the corpse close to their feet. “Now.” Loki could only roll his eyes with impatience.

They move in their respective places, getting ready for the show. Loki sits on the throne with you clinging to him like a koala. He's smirking all too proud, he loves feeling needed.

He considers putting the mask back, it's a symbol for greatness in this art. It's what his father used to say.

“Love,” he calls. Not wanting to frighten you more, you look up to him with a quivering lip. “You're okay, we're okay.” 

He lifts a bit the end of your dress again, unbothered by the actors frantically moving among themselves, not knowing if they should look or not.

He grabs your ass cheek, making you gasp from the suddenness. You don't want to think about the scene, so you don't. You stick to appreciating his closeness, and him, you feel like a pervert for enjoying this, his low voice speaking against your skin.

He kisses you.

“I'll make you feel better.” He brings you up a bit to lick down your earlobe, moving to kiss your neck. “I'll make it all better, I promise. I've been reckless.” He says, taking off his gloves and pressing his nails against your skin, marking tiny half-moon shapes on your flesh.

Wanting to fully feel you, smiling as he remembers the desperation from the man, he's dreamt years of this performance. Of having a figure to be conquered, the star of the show, you.

The blood still covered his cloak, and it's starting to taint your beautiful, innocent skin. It entices him more, of course. He groans near your ear, you moan under his touch in response.

He hears the movement from the play and he grabs your hair tenderly, you've had enough for one day, he has to be kind, you need his softness that you adore so much. The one he reserves only for you.

He takes off your dress and lets it slip off your body, he's in awe as more of your skin reaches his eyes, his breath hanging for a second.

The actors now well enough not to look at you while the King has you in his arms.

He grabs more than he can, he feels graced by the Gods. He wants to suffocate you with his passion, the blood on your skin tainting his hands. The blood gets him so hard, leaving him impatient as he ruts against your clothed pussy, searching for friction.

He sucks on your neck, taking his time to your shoulders, your hands tremble as you move to grab his hair. You keep your eyes closed, each breath you tried to convince yourself this was completely fine.

Loki's eyes glance to the stage for a moment, he takes a look at a character picking the ghostface mask off the floor, and with a shaky breath and, most likely heavy heart, the next thing to be heard was a short scream. The cut of the knife tainted the actors even more, one of them turned to run to a corner and throw up.

Loki pressed his hands against your ears so you wouldn't listen to the vomit, nor the blood splashing out. But you knew.

"Weak bastards," Loki thought, "they'd never survive a war. Weak, fake puritans. Their blood is a noble sacrifice."

Loki kept a hold of your head to his chest so you wouldn't watch the scene, you were still shaking, poor thing, wouldn't be able to take it. Your curiosity was dangerous to you, he had to keep you safer than he assumed necessary, innocent, untainted little thing.

“Princess,” he takes your face between his hands, only leaving a small distance between his lips to yours, practically speaking right into your mouth. You blushed under his loving gaze. “Can I have you?”

Your breath stopped short, you were so dizzy you feared fainting from such intense emotions. Loki was all you wanted, but after this? You were terrified.

“You don't need to accept, I won't even make you watch the show. I fear it'd be too much for your pure heart to take,” he carefully fixes a singular strand of your hair to behind your ear.

“I'm not pure,” you meekly said, your eyes stinging with the weight of the truth. You've never felt dirtier, never felt more like a sinner. If punishments were deserving for those who committed atrocities, you trembled to believe you'd need them all. “I'm not pure, I deserve to suffer.”

“Don't say that,” Loki sternly commands. “Don't say that, not you. If there's a soul in this universe that deserves all the nine realms, it is you.” His words are stern but so soft, you once again feel your lips quiver at the start of another sob. You were way too emotional, everything was way too wrong.

Everything but the sensual way he was touching you.

His fingers kept a gentle caress of your back, down your spine, to reach your hips and buttocks. His breath hitched as he gritted his teeth, attempting patience, waiting for a sign that you soon granted him.

“Please…” You begged, like a poor little mouse under his tricks. He felt oh so blessed, the Norns truly must love him. He practically yanks you panties down, they hang somewhere around your calves as he starts to touch your needy cunt.

He skillfully touches your folds, your pussy clenching from the movements he's making, he slips his fingers inside your cunt to stroke that sensitive spot inside of you, curling his fingers, making you a mess.

“That's it, sweetheart, take your pleasure,” he craved those pleased whiny moans of yours, they were a treasure to his ears, you were clenching around him and lifting yourself a bit up with each thrusting of his fingers. He couldn't control his groans to himself. “Take it from me, it's yours. All yours.”

His palm circles your clit, paying extra attention to the moments you get sensitive, shivering under his hold like his precious toy, heat running down your skin. You shamelessly begin riding his palm. He kept your legs fully open now with his other hand, keeping a strong grip on your skin.

“Let me play, darling. Don't be cruel.” You didn't know if your tears came from pleasure or fear now. Your mind wasn't allowing you to focus on the seriousness of the situation, you didn't want to look at the blood, and the smell of him intoxicated you to the point you ignored the smell of iron around the place.

“Y-yes…” You mindlessly opened your legs further, making him give you the prettiest, most devilish grin your eyes could see.

“I'll treat you so well, you will enjoy being mine, princess. I'll make sure you do.” You don't hold your moaning, unafraid of the possible eyes wandering to your figure. Your nails digged his shoulders, your hips rutted against him unashamed, begging for the friction, for more of his marvelous fingers.

He helps you through your climax as you're gushing over his clothes, you're a trembling mess, coming undone for him, your entire face now very sticky with sweat and tears, the post-orgasmic bliss clouding your mind.

“Do you want to know how the show ends?” You feel goosebumps as he asks that, no, no you don't want to.

He looks down at you, bringing his fingers up as a trail of your cum sticks on the way to his mouth. You're dazed as he licks his fingers clean, keeping eye contact with you, you see a bit of blood sticking in between the act.

You wonder whose blood it is, if this is any hygienic, but you supposed being a God had its perks for these things. Your eyes squeezed tight in shame.

He makes sure to lift your face to make your eyes open again.

“No need to feel embarrassed if you like it.” Your blood boils and the heat you feel increases, how dare he? To assume you'd like being part of something so cruel?

“I don't like it.” You say coldly, not passing any of the burbling rage you feel.

He laughs a bit from your serious expression, you feel mocked. You knit your brows, you didn't know Loki could be this way.

“I love you, princess.” It's like a stab on your heart after the cruelness.

“No, you don't.” He scoops you up his arms, out of a sudden, you yelp as you're lifted, instinctively holding up around his neck.

He moves the throne magically to the center of the theater. Everything looks so hazed and spectacularly planned out.

He places you carefully down the throne, even fixing the skirt of your dress as he leaves you there.

You feel out of place, the characters that are alive have pleading eyes but none have the courage to move and run away. You begin to feel your blood boil for them too, how could they be so weak? How could you?

“My heart.” Loki calls you, you shiver because of the pet-name.

Your tears came back again, and your head now stings drastically from so much crying. If you survived, the headache you'd feel tomorrow will be painful.

Now, your fear was one thing, your anger another, even your cries as you orgasmed were angelical and he craved them like a sick bastard. But your sadness? That stung deep into his heart, ripping it like a carved knife tearing his insides out.

“Please… please don't cry, love. It's okay.” He never thought he'd beg another, he wanted to make everyone else pay. But you? You didn't deserve pain or suffering, and now you're crying because your poor heart is so sad it can't take any more of what he's made you go through.

He'd have to go a long time apologizing, your sadness was starting to cling to his bones.

“My love, look at me.” He holds your hand, kneeling by your side down the throne. Like you're the Queen and he's just a peasant, your servant, a pet.

You don't feel very royal at the moment, you don't really feel in control. If that's what he's planning on doing.

“That's my pretty girl.” As much as you're defiant and trying to keep yourself unattached, you can't help but blush at his words. They seem innocent, they seem honest. “My pretty girl, now the Queen of Asgard. Just as you deserve.” He looks down at your body and licks his lips. He'd feed you all the compliments in the world just because you deserve them.

His hands slide to your thighs and squish them under his hands. He leaves out an animalistic moan, looking up at you with so much desire clinging to his pupils.

“I've been waiting for this part the whole night.” You feel off at that, but he holds you as he hovers over your figure on the throne, quickly scrambling to get rid of his pants. Your panties have been discarded a long time ago, so the wetness is now ruining the fancy marble of the throne, your cheeks warm up at the realization.

He's pinning you against the throne with his weight, his back to the audience, covering you.

He sheaths himself inside of you, he goes in more easily than you imagined, making your eyes round as you feel him throbbing inside you, desperate to move.

He pulls out a bit and thrusts back into you at once. He has an insufferable smile covering his face, and his eyes closed in pleasure, appreciating the warmth of your cunt squeezing him in, welcoming his cock like you're made for him.

“Oh princess, I envied all the souls that had the pleasure of being near you.” He grabs your chin roughly forcing you to look into his eyes, your own eyes moist as you feel so inferior to him. “But what can they do now? What would they do now that I have you? I have you. I have you.” You pant as he bucks so deep into you, you can feel it hitting impossibly deep to the hilt.

“Y-you don't.”

“Oh?” He taunts. “Is that so, my heart? What does it look like to you?” He keeps his punishing pace into you, hands pressing down your womb where you can both feel the bump of his manhood shoving into you, balls repeatedly hitting your ass with every frantic thrusting. His sweat hitting your skin as he fucked you like a beast. “Because to me,” another harsh thrust, you moan and crave your nails on the skin of his back, legs wrapping around his waist. “It seems like I've won.”

Your eyes roll up your skull as he keeps hitting that sensitive spot, he was craving the sensation of your exploding orgasm, he craved to feel your cunt straining his cock as you milk his cock. His hand moves lower as his thrusts become more powerful, he rubs your clit. He hears your panting and moans into your ear like your sounds are a victory of its own.

You cling to him as his hips work you until your head falls backwards, the lights all on you as you spasm around him and his massive form still holding you for dear life. Loki finished with a bite down onto your neck, right next to your lifeline, biting a bruise as you felt him spilling into you.

You cling to him as you cease your rocking hips, he holds your tired legs down as he keeps himself rested inside you, calming down his breathing as your forehead touches his.

You look down and see the earlier blood smeared across your skin, you gulp, he feels your cunt clench from the sight and he gives a satisfied smile.

He coos you into his arms, embracing your form.

“I have you, princess.” He pulls out carefully and you hiss from oversensitivity. A long string of his cum coming out of you, you watch it with fascination as it runs down your thighs, moving a bit so it doesn't ruin the pristine throne. “I have you, my star.”

He conjures a knife again, and hands it to you. You watch it dazedly, the bliss really making you more fuzzy.

“Dearest,” he sweetly calls you, he's been doing that a lot, you notice. “The star needs to finish the show. The true leader. The one they're obsessed with, the true Star.”

You're limp as you take the news, you move the knife on your hands with a detached curiosity, it's clean now but you wonder for how long it's been used, and for what kind of things.

“I can't kill anyone.” You weakly say, afraid you'll disappoint, his eyes are wide but he still nods. He's quick to show you he's not disappointed.

He pats your hair and nuzzles your cheek with his face, getting your lips close to him so he can give you multiple and multiple kisses all over your face. You feel his affection like a healing balm in itself, you bathe yourself in it.

“It's okay, it doesn't need to be you.” He affirms, still passing his hands across your hair, and skin. He glanced at another actor, you hid your face again into his chest as you anticipate the cruel fate that'll obviously occur no matter what.

And it did, you heard another splash, someone else needed to die. You're shaking and your sobbing is louder than you wanted, Loki keeps you scooped onto him. He begins rocking you back and forth gently as a means to calm you down, cherishing you, babying you.

“The Star agrees for it to be the end, I presume?” He asks and you nod repeatedly. You just want it to end.

“Please… please, no more.” You beg weakly, he cradles you and coos some more, keeping you safely tucked in his arms, he starts to move around to stand up with you still clinging onto him like a koala.

“This will be all.” He gives a satisfied smile to the crowd of actors, the ones that survived shaking, trembling. Still meekly downing their heads as all actors do when a play's over. They rush to the exits, and Loki allows them.

“Shh, now.” He still asks of you as your cries are unstopping. “Please, love, it's over.”

“What will happen now?”

“I've told you, I'm the King. Nothing will happen, this play lasted for generations, it's the first opportunity I've had of making it my own. Centuries before you even dreamed to exist, but they don't dare to defy the King.” He patiently passes his hand up and down your back, holding you more to him. “We're safe. I told you. We're all safe.”

You guessed he wasn't going to refer to the dead people around you, or the ones that died in the way.

He takes a trembling you with him somewhere else, you don't know where you're going, but you don't have the bravery to peek out and see. You're still afraid to be the next.

You feel even more perverted everytime you think about death and feel his sticky cum running down your thighs, you feel even more perverted as you don't regret it.

“I'll take you to our chambers.” He says, as if it's nothing.

“Our chambers? Mine is…” He interrupts you. You check around and notice you're inside the cold castle, nobody's in sight but you and Loki.

“No…not yours, our chamber.” He recalls you. You shake your head clinging to his chest again, leaving out another sob.

“I'm sorry,” he continues, frowning now. “Do you hate me?” His voice trembles as he asks, your fists curled around his muscular chest as your mind fights to hate him, but you fear you don't. You don't want to tell him that you don't hate him. “This was more traumatic to you than I assumed it would be.”

Your eyes open as you try to look anywhere but his face, and as you peek at the floor, you see the shiny, bloody ghost face mask left on the floor. As if it's nothing now, as if nothing happened.

It gives you the chills.

“I-I, I've never had to–” You sob loudly. “Never thought I'd need to see- see people being murdered.” Your stinging eyes now struggled to keep open, you fought to breathe and to speak. He tries to calm you down and rubs over your clothed skin some more.

“My love, my heart, it's over now.”

Is it? Is it over? Was it all a huge nightmare? Your eyes squeeze shut as you wish for it to be all a giant, mean trick. But as you opened them, everything was real, and the blood, the cum, the memories, still very much present speckled across your impure skin.

“It's over.” He places you ever so gently down his giant bed, it felt heavenly, the pillows were so soft and the mattress smelled like paradise. It felt so heavenly you sighed out in relief, your bones received the touch against the bed like a treat. “It's been enough for this year, but we'll need to treasure the future performances.”

Your heart froze, of course. There were additionals.

“You don't need to worry about that now, my heart.” He pleads again, kissing you, you accept, and then pressing a gentle peck to your forehead. “For now, I'll let you relax. I'll prepare a bath for us, and I'll let you rest your divine mind into dreamland. Does this sound suitable?” He asks with a kind smile, smoothing his fingers over your wrists.

You clear your throat to say.

“Yes.”

“Perfect, my heart. As I have you, I'll take care of you. I've planned to have you as my Queen for a long time. I won't let it go to waste, I promise I'll take care of you.” He scoops you up to him again, he seemed to enjoy treating you like a princess a lot. Cradling his face next to yours. “One day you'll forgive me. But for now, for now, let me make you learn how to love me.”

Taglist: @mischief2sarawr @dangertoozmanykids101

[sotteoks]

Fresh Meat | 🔞

──★ ˙pairing: Wonho aka Lee Hoseok x Fem!Reader ──★ ˙word count: 7.9k ──★ ˙summary: adjusting to the modern world as a centuries old vampire has been mostly easy for you. however, you can’t recall the last time you’ve had a meal that makes you want to go back for seconds. ──★ ˙contents: gymrat!wonho duh, vampire!reader, SMUT

warnings below the cut!

──★ ˙warnings: very very brief mentions of substance use, p*rn with just a crumb of a plot, biting, mentions of blood, switch!wonho, oral (m receiving), handjob, light overstimulation, fingering, squirting, mating press position, unprotected sex + creampie, please let me know if i missed anything ! ⸜ (｡˃ ᵕ ˂) ⸝

Searching the streets just for a fix. It’s demeaning, depressing and outright pathetic. But it is the price you must pay for becoming complacent and thinking that the hospital wouldn’t cut you off at some point with how much of a glutton you’ve become since finding out that in the city, money and influence is the easiest way to get what you want. 

Three month waiting period for just a few pints of blood, my ass you bitterly muttered as you recalled your last visit. The hospital staff was lucky that you had some regard for human life or else you would have simply cleared the blood bank out and possibly killed their personnel for denying you. However, causing a commotion like that would mean risking being chased out of the country and you were just now getting adjusted to life here. 

In a superficial modern society with impossible beauty standards and an emphasis on being ‘healthy’ you thought that it would have been a breeze finding someone to feed on. Much to your dismay, a lot of the upper class social circle you had infiltrated was nothing but a bunch of people who only looked perfect on the outside but were practically decaying on the inside. Disgusted was an understatement for how you felt when you discovered that even those who had the means to eat the best foods in the world, access to top of the line healthcare and the best personal trainers were still such revolting sacks of flesh. They were nothing but a human version of the picturesque fruits you would come across in grocery stores, just to bite into them and find that they were tasteless or on the verge of rotting. 

The mere memory of your first time in an upscale nightclub is able to induce gagging as you recall the overwhelming stench of putrid blood best described as rusting nails soaked in vinegar and sulfur that surrounded you. A lack of nutrients in the name of trying to stay as thin as possible was the culprit. Substance use often sullied the taste of blood as well, but with the stresses of modern society you understood why people would turn to things like nicotine, alcohol, and the harder drugs to be able to feel okay. Blood from a person who was barely getting enough nutrients as is and used things such as nicotine or amphetamines to further stave off their appetite was sickening enough to send you into a rage. Yet it was something you had been coming across more and more frequently no matter where you ventured on this spinning blue marble called Earth. 

And oftentimes, it was what you would have to settle for if you wanted to stay alive. If you had known humanity would come to this, you would have let yourself die eons ago with your loved ones instead of wandering the Earth alone and outliving everyone you had ever grown fond of. 

Food is not only a source of energy and necessity for maintaining bodily function. It’s a part of culture and it has the capacity to make people happy. Much like the average human craves the joy of experiencing fine dining at some point in their life or has a favorite food they would like to indulge in, you found yourself craving the blood of someone who ate healthy, took care of their body and abstained from excessive substance use. With the decrease in accessibility to quality blood, the joy of feeding was gone therefore making staying alive feel like a chore. 

Letting your sense of smell be your guide rather than waste anymore time walking around aimlessly, your feet followed where your nose led them to. Walking through the city streets at night, there were tons of different scents to be picked up, most of them being unpleasant, but the smell of the finest blood is sweet enough to cut through it all. As you continued down the block, the smell would become overwhelmingly strong and outshine the stench of—must? 

Finally looking up, you find that your feet have carried you to a gym. One would think that the gym would have been an obvious place for you to lurk around if you wanted someone with tasty blood, but you had been around during the 1980s steroids boom—combine that with all the fad diets that had came and went, even the people who followed strict regimens in order to look like the epitome of physical health with their low body fat and high muscle percentage were just beefier versions of the rich, waifish looking socialites you called ‘friends’. 

Seeing that you weren’t dressed to go to the gym, you wouldn’t dare enter the premises out of fear of attracting unnecessary attention. Lingering around the outside, you’re able to peek through the glass doors and are surprised to see just how many people were exercising at the late hours. Even with enhanced senses, you couldn’t narrow down who had been the source of the delectable fragrance with just vision and there were still too many different scents in the area. Pacing back and forth, you contemplate if you have enough energy to utilize a different vampiric ability to lure out the person you were after. 

While lost in thought, the sound of footsteps approaching causes you to snap back into the present moment and panic as you realize just how out of place you must have looked. Examining your surroundings, you notice the nearby bus stop and dash to take a seat at the bench under the covered port. Listening closely for the footsteps, your acute hearing allows you to deduce that the person heading your direction was exiting the very gym you were lurking in front of. And it seems like Lady Luck is finally on your side as that sweet smell you were after was growing stronger as this person neared you. Despite this person still being at least twenty feet away, their scent intoxicates you and makes your stomach twist with this primal desire; truly testing your restraint. The delicious blend of such perfect, untainted blood with hints of sweat and remnants of this fresh scent— maybe from a shower earlier or from their laundry— has you practically salivating. Your hands had been casually resting atop your knees as you sat down but when you lower your head, you see your fingertips digging into your flesh as a means of relieving the tension in your body.  

Without even looking up you can feel them heading your direction, the heat radiating off their body and their pheromones taunting you as their scent is so overwhelming you could practically taste it. Forcing yourself to focus before they get any closer, you pick apart the notes of their natural perfume and decipher their profile; your target was male, late twenties to early thirties, and in nearly optimal physical health. You could sniff out a few deficiencies in some vitamins and minerals but in comparison to most you had come across, he was perfect to you. What made him even more ideal in your eyes is that you didn’t even have to exert any energy trying to lure him toward you; it was almost like some sort of natural magnetism had brought him your way.  All that was left for you to do was to seal the deal. 

“Hey, I know I’m a little sweaty but is it fine if I take the seat next to you?” A voice gently asks you, in contrast to the mildly intimidating shadow they cast over you. “I just did leg day and I’m starting to feel it already.”

“Oh, yeah, it’s fine.” You awkwardly reply as you try to regain composure before facing the stranger. Looking up, you catch sight of the boyishly charming face that doesn’t quite match the muscular body it’s attached to but nonetheless, he’s a sight for sore eyes and the appealing aesthetic is enough to cause you to perk up in excitement. “Are you a member of that gym?” you question in an attempt to keep conversation going despite already knowing the answer.

“Yeah, it’s one of the nicer gyms in the area.” He replies casually. “Since I didn’t see you in the gym, where are you coming from?”

You can’t help but smile at his naturally friendly disposition, knowing just how little effort it’ll be to get into his head when the time is right. Not only would you have a satisfying meal tonight, it was going to be as easy as taking candy from a baby. 

“I was looking for a treat at the cafe across the street.” You lie easily, gesturing to the aforementioned building. “But seeing the gym made me lose my appetite.” you add in with a small laugh. 

“I’ve thought about stopping by that place but it would defeat the purpose of me going to the gym.” The stranger laughs along with you, contributing to the lighthearted mood of the conversation between the two of you. 

Sensing that the bus was approaching soon, you now have to make the decision of how aggressively you want to pursue your meal. Should you slowly seduce him with natural charm or would it be better to eliminate any chances of him rejecting you?

“There’s nothing wrong with the occasional treat—especially if you have a good time burning off the calories.” You remark playfully, eyes catching his and carefully reading his expression; and maybe taking a peek into his soul and inner thoughts for the hell of it.

 Just as intended, he had registered your words as vaguely amorous and he was flustered over it. The desire to entertain the flirty conversation is there, but he’s a bit shy and you’ve temporarily left him at a loss for words. Oftentimes you had loathed being immortal for so long however, in this moment you’re thankful you had been around long enough to master the gift of telepathy or else you would have interpreted the handsome man’s lack of response as him being put off by your approach. 

“Maybe we can exercise together sometime.” He says, trying his best to keep cool. “My name is Hoseok, by the way.”

You tell him your name and manage to exchange contact information right before the bus arrives. Part of you had anticipated the two of you to part ways at this point and you actually would have to hijack control over the situation and take things into your own hands but much to your surprise, Hoseok seems to have no qualms about inviting you out for drinks at a bar near his place. You have to bite back a laugh at how absurdly easy he’s making things for you without even knowing it, making the prospect of feeding on him even more exciting for you. 

Without hesitating, you accept his invite; teasing him and questioning if it was common for him to ask strangers he meets at bus stops for drinks to which he’s only able to respond to with a sheepish laugh. Going along with your banter, he points out how quickly you agreed to spend time with him and you’re backed into a corner; briefly wondering if you should give another go at reading his thoughts. Ultimately, you decide against it in the name of conserving more energy and not wanting to risk bleeding him dry when you finally get your chance to sink your teeth into him. Such a fine piece of man, it’s hard for you to decide where you want to get your first taste. Lean muscle with a low body fat percentage meant biting into his flesh would have the perfect amount of tenderness and juiciness; the idea of it makes your tongue feel heavy in your mouth as you start salivating once more.

Your hunger is only exacerbated by the fact that the bus is packed despite the late hour, forcing you and Hoseok to be packed against each other like sardines. So many other bloodbags- bodies surround you in the small space but the only thing on your mind is him. Your senses desire only him; to smell him and to taste him mostly but touching him and even just looking at him is exciting in their own way. As you hungrily eye the bulky man standing in front of you while his gaze is elsewhere, you can’t help but wonder if he would even feel that much pain if you bit him. 

The bus braking aggressively after nearly zooming past a stop with one lone rider waiting causes a majority of the standing passengers to lose balance. 

You and Hoseok included. 

Stumbling slightly, you try to regain your hold on the handrail above your head only to have another passenger knock into you and cause your body to collide with Hoseok’s. Your first instinct is to mentally curse yourself for being so lost in your thoughts that your reflexes don’t kick in. The second thing that goes through your mind is losing your footing like that probably made you look more human anyway so it’s not something you should shame yourself for. And the third thing, perhaps the most maddening thought, is just how warm and sturdy Hoseok’s frame feels against yours. Time seems to slow down as one of his arms wrap around your shoulders in an almost protective manner as he asks if you’re alright. 

On the outside, you give him a small nod of reassurance but on the inside, you’re struggling to keep your cool as you practically feel drunk after getting that close to him. It took every fiber of your being to not sink your fangs into him when you landed face first into his chest. Without even realizing it, you had been trembling from just how excited the physical contact made you and Hoseok had interpreted it as you being cold so he pulled you in even closer. 

Your heart thuds against your chest so loud, you can barely hear Hoseok’s thoughts when you read them again. 

Something, something— maybe we should just skip the bar and drink at my place. 

The rest of his thoughts register to you as just a slurry of word soup with no real meaning because of your inability to focus. You’re so out of sorts just by being in his personal space, you accidentally leave the channel for telepathic communication open right as you think about just how much you crave him. 

Right after the thought is completed, you panic and realize he wasn’t meant to hear that; but after that slip up, you wonder if he’s even able to comprehend what just happened. You coyly peek at him through your lashes to gauge his expression but his eyes seem to be fixed on the streets outside of the window as he waits for the bus to arrive at his stop. As much as you desperately want to read his thoughts once more, you had already overdone it. Your body feels just a tad heavier as you let yourself lean further into Hoseok as a means of support, wishing that the trip was over already. Hunger and lust no longer seem like two separate emotions with each second that passes while you’re in his presence. All you want is to—

“Oh, this is our stop.” Hoseok finally says to you after what felt like ages of not speaking; but realistically it was closer to five minutes. The two of you make your way past the other riders and get off the bus, making you realize just how suffocated you felt being in such a small enclosed space with Hoseok’s scent tempting and teasing you. Finally being able to breathe in the cool, night air you’re able to think straight again. Or at least, gain as much clarity as you can with him still being in the vicinity.  

“Do you wanna skip the bar and just get some drinks from the convenience store then go back to your place?” You suggest, laying the charm on thick as you smile at him. 

And of course, since he had already considered this, he agrees. 

Finally getting back to his apartment, you’re encompassed by his fragrance and no longer have to worry about any repercussions of what could happen if you were to lose your grip. The first thing you notice after being invited in was the accent table in the entryway. Your eyes are drawn to the catchall bowl that sits atop it with a lone key fob inside. Just by the smell, you knew for sure Hoseok lived alone, so obviously the car key had to belong to him. But if that was the case, why would he take public transportation? The only logical assumption was that his car wasn’t working right and it was just fate for you to meet him tonight. 

“I’m gonna shower since I didn’t get to take one at the gym, is that cool?” Hoseok asks, snapping you out of your thoughts.

“Only if you're giving me an invitation for me to join.” You tease, watching the tips of his ears flush a light red color at your bold statement. “I’m kidding, but don’t make me wait too long.”

The two of you share a few more jokes and laughs before he finally goes to take a shower. Just as you wished, Hoseok didn’t keep you waiting for long. He returns to the living room where you had been sitting patiently in a plain t-shirt and grey sweats while drying his hair with a towel. Stray droplets of water bead around his neck and hairline just be wiped away with the cloth as he stalks toward you. Settling down on the couch beside you, the two of you resume the playful conversation from earlier while sharing a few bottles of soju between the two of you. 

Carefully pacing yourself, you make sure Hoseok drinks more than you as you pour him shot after shot; encouraging him to indulge himself after a  good workout even when he says he needs to take it easy. However, it’s crucial for you to get him to at least match the level of inebriation that you were currently at just from being in his presence. Even without utilizing your vampiric powers, you note how much influence you have over him and how willing he is to listen. 

“You know, you don’t have to get me drunk to fuck.” He slurs slightly before chuckling as you pour him another drink.

“You can see right through me.” You play along with him, setting down the bottle and then nudging his glass in his direction. “So, it’s fine if I do this?” Inviting yourself into Hoseok’s personal space, you perch yourself on his lap with your lips ghost along his neck as you await his reply.  

“Y-yeah.” He stutters out as he feels your tongue poke out to lap at his skin and baring your fangs, letting him feel the pointed canines right before sinking them into his flesh. You retreat for only a mere few seconds to admire the two parallel puncture wounds that mark his once flawless skin. Diving right back as the two little holes start to drip out the crimson liquid you had been craving all night, you feed on him eagerly. 

Just as expected, he tastes absolutely divine. It’s hard for you to pull away from him because every time you think about it, you just want to sink your teeth into a different part of his body and see if some places taste better than others. On top of that, he’s such a delight to feed on him as he just gives in to you; letting himself be lulled into unconsciousness. Despite the amount of blood you were suckling from his neck, that wasn’t enough to stop blood from rushing between his legs and causing his not so little friend to start poking you in the butt. 

It seems that you had underestimated just how bewitched you had Hoseok. Wrapped around your pretty little finger, he probably wouldn’t have minded you bleeding him dry. But during the few hours you’ve known him you have grown quite fond of him yourself. You would hate to cut your time together short. Mustering up the will, you finally pull away from his neck, making sure not to leave a single drop left behind after finally getting a good meal. 

Seeing that he was passed out and probably having some sort of erotic dream about you, you get up from his lap and peruse around his apartment; getting acquainted with the layout and seeing what things he had kept around. Locating a paper to-do list on the fridge, you quickly scribble your name and number as it seemed like the polite thing to do since you were leaving without bidding him goodbye. 

And with that, you see yourself out. 

In the following weeks, you thought that you would be fine. You went out and did your thing as usual. But Hoseok remained at the front of your mind at all times. He texted you the day after you went to his apartment, having no clear recollection of what happened. Despite how much you enjoyed talking to him and wanted to see him again, you denied all of his offers to hang out again mainly out of fear of losing control in his presence. But the fact he always wanted to see during daylight hours played a factor in it as well. 

It had been so long that you had experienced an emotion like this. You weren’t sure how to cope. Being careful about not killing those you feed on had always been something you worried about; but to feel even an ounce of guilt after feeding on someone was strange. As tasty as he was and how much you craved him, the idea of feeding on him again made you feel bad. 

But of course, the universe works in mysterious ways and you would cross paths with him again. 

Under flashy club lights, celebrating a friend’s birthday was the last place you expected to run into Hoseok. Before you saw him with your eyes, you were able to sniff out his delectable fragrance.  

I guess the city is smaller than I thought. 

You muse to yourself as you sip on your cocktail, very aware of how his scent was growing stronger and stronger until he finally made his way to the VIP section you were seated at with your friends. Not wanting to deal with any awkward conversations about why you’ve been avoiding him, you quietly disappear amongst the large group of people and scurry off to get lost on the dance floor. But it’s just no use. The natural connection between you and Hoseok strikes again. 

Your time dancing alone doesn’t last very long because some random guy thought it would be appropriate to join you. You turn around to tell him off but he won’t take no for an answer, souring your mood to the point of contemplating playing along with him just so you could suck the literal life from him. However, before the opportunity would arise, a familiar shadow looms over you from behind.

Luckily for you, Hoseok’s mere presence is enough to get the weird guy to take a hint and leave. 

Maybe it’s the liquor in your system. Maybe it’s the fact that whenever you’re around him, he serves as your own personal brand of heroin—the dramatic metaphor Edward Cullen used to describe Bella was the only way you could describe your feelings— but you’re not thinking straight when you lean into Hoseok’s firm body, finding comfort in him after the odd encounter you just had. His firm chest is pressed up against your back so you don’t have to worry about getting lost in his eyes. Not yet at least. You take it upon yourself to reach for his arms and wrap them around your waist, urging him to dance with you. 

“I thought you were avoiding me, what happened?” Hoseok playfully asks, leaning in close to your ear so you could hear him over the music. It’s such a simple action, but the sound of voice paired with his breath fanning over your neck sends a tingle of excitement down your spine. 

“I thought I was, too.” You admit with a small laugh, turning your body in his arms in order to face him. “I wasn’t prepared to see you here.”

“Can you tell me why?” He questions as his expression turns serious.

Eyes meeting his, you can detect the slightest bit of hurt under all the confusion and curiosity. It tugs at your heart to see him wearing that emotion. So much so, it compels you to do the unthinkable. 

Wanna know a secret? You tilt your head curiously as you look up at him.

Hoseok’s expression morphs into one of surprise as he realizes that he heard your words but didn’t see your lips move. And even if your lips had moved, it would have been impossible to hear you as clearly as he did. It’s almost as if— 

I’m in your thoughts.

Silently, you create some distance from him as you remove his arms from your body just to take his hand into yours and lead him away from the crowd. Weaving through the crowd of people, the two of you go out a backdoor that had been propped open as a feeble attempt to get more airflow into the venue. In the empty alley, the air is dramatically cooler and less humid than inside; it’s refreshing. 

“Wanna take a guess about what’s going on?” You ask him as a dallying grin tugs at the corner of your lips. “Don’t say your answer out loud. Just think about it.”

In every single way, the current situation Hoseok finds himself in right now is the opposite of the scenes from Twilight. Yet, it’s the only parallel he could draw right now as he sees your pointed teeth glint under the moonlight. 

You could read his mind. You turned down all of his invites for morning coffee dates or lunch. He first met you at night and now he’s seeing you once again under the blanket of nightfall. Before he passed out from what he originally thought was him being too drunk, he remembered you being very interested in his neck. 

But those things could be just coincidences, right? 

Vampires aren’t real.

Or are they? 

Possible proof could be standing right in front of him but the fear of dying in order to find out the truth about what’s supposed to be a fictional creature terrifies him.

“I would never dream of killing you.” You say softly, a small laugh escaping you. “If I wasn’t worried about accidentally bleeding you dry, I wouldn’t have avoided you.”

The sudden confession eases Hoseok’s nerves; but it creates new questions in his mind. Questions that you listen in on and you’re more than happy to answer. 

A combination of thoughts with a few more spoken words sprinkled into the mix are exchanged between the two of you before both of you agree on returning to Hoseok’s apartment. 

As soon as you make it through the door, you’re all over each other. You move so quickly, it makes Hoseok’s head spin. In just one blink, you had him pushed up against his front door as soon as it closed. While kissing his neck, eager fingers unbuttoning the dress shirt he was wearing. Your lips follow the trail of exposed skin, going lower and lower until you encounter a new obstruction. 

His pants.  

A soft hand reaches to grasp the semi-erect length hiding under the fabric. Giving it a firm squeeze, you feel it twitch under your touch and grow harder. The little movement amuses you more than you should as Hoseok lets out little whimpers so you repeat the motion until you’ve gotten him fully hard. 

“Please,” He whines out. “Touch me more.”

The desperation in his voice is so endearing, it makes you almost want to give in to him. Your fingers slowly inch closer to his belt buckle and you take your time undoing it. Hoseok’s eyes watch every languid action, silently wishing you would pick up the pace. Even if he knows that you could read his thoughts, it doesn’t stop him from thinking about what he wants you to do for him and to him.

“Let me have just one thing. And I’ll do whatever you want.” You say, looking up at him as you yank his belt out of the loops of his pants. “Will you let me have it?’

Without even bothering to question your conditions, Hoseok nods eagerly. Too far gone with lust, he would let you have anything as long as it meant feeling more of your touch. But of course, this type of response is exactly what you expected from him and it pleases you. 

Making quick work of the button and zipper on his pants, you hastily yank the fabric down his oh so muscular legs; watching him carelessly kick away the garment once it pools at his ankles. Your hands run up and down his thighs, enjoying the way the muscle feels under your palms before you move in closer; lips ghosting along his inner thigh. Hoseok tenses ever so slightly as you litter kisses so dangerously close to where he wants you but not quite making contact. 

Hoseok maintains a close eye on all your actions, anticipating what’s next. But his eyes just can’t keep up with you. He doesn’t see your fangs drag against his skin; he can only feel it but he just assumes it’s your regular teeth. Until he feels a small prick into the meat of his thigh and the sensation of liquid running down his leg. He’s only able to get a glimpse of red dripping along his thigh before your tongue is chasing after it and licking it away. Your mouth covers the two miniscule holes on his thigh before you start suckling. 

His head falls back in bliss at the suction on such a sensitive area but he starts to feel lightheaded due to the blood loss. Lapsing in and out of consciousness, he can’t focus on a single thing except for how hard it is to stay afloat. 

“Don’t pass out on me now.” You coo gently, digging your nails into his thigh as means of keeping him awake. 

Eyes fluttering open at the sound of your words, his gaze returns to you and it’s almost like pure energy was injected into his veins when he sees you pulling off his boxer briefs. He holds his breath as his length practically springs out of its confines. A pearly bead of precum decorates the tip of his cock, prompting you to lap it up. The warmth of your tongue surprises Hoseok and elicits a small gasp of pleasure from him; only for it to turn into a shaky moan as your hand moves to grasp the base of his cock. Placing a gentle kiss on the tip, you feel his cock pulse under your lips before finally taking it into your mouth and swirling your tongue around it.  

“Oh fuck—” Hoseok whimpers, encouraging you to take more of him down your throat. With your hand carefully stroking whatever you couldn’t take, you hollow your cheeks and suck him off with a hunger that matches his neediness. 

After all, you did tell him you would do whatever he wanted if he let you have what you wanted.  And being able to get inside of his head took a lot of the guesswork out of it. 

Your tongue is set flat against the underside of his cock, massaging the area with the utmost care as one of the veins throbs with every motion you make. The prettiest moans and whimpers keep falling from him, it’s impossible for you to ignore your desire to keep hearing more of them. So of course, your natural course of action is to not just keep going; but to up the intensity for him.

Just having your lips stretched around his thick length has drool pooling in your mouth and threatening to spill out. As you push yourself further along his cock, greedily cramming the entirety of it past your throat, so much saliva has gathered it doesn’t just help ease him deeper inside; it also starts running down your chin. 

Hoseok can barely stand to look at you at this point; the visual is so stimulating it makes him want to cum just from the sight. All of his thoughts are scrambled and he can barely find the words to tell you how good it feels to have you deepthroating his cock with so much gusto. Only a series of gasps and whiny moans are able to come out of him as he feels himself melting under your touch, the door against his back being the only source of stability he has since his legs were starting to feel like jelly trying to keep himself up. The warm heaven your mouth and throat send him to is almost too much to take—especially when paired with the lewd sounds of you gagging on his cock and his thoughts of how good your pussy must feel—

“Please—” Hoseok rasps out, a shaky hand reaching for the back of your head.

“You want to stop already?” You ask mockingly as you pull your mouth off of him, opting to slowly jack him off; the slick sounds of your hand tugging on his length filling in the silence between you as he tries to find the words to convey his feelings. “We’re just getting started.” You pout, moving your hand slower as you enjoy the salacious noises created by his sopping wet cock being pumped by you.

“N-no! Don’t stop, it’s too good.” He cries out, feeling your grip tighten each time it passes over the sensitive tip of his cock. “It’s so fucking good.” He gasps, writhing under your touch as more pre cum leaks out of him adding to the wet mess of saliva you had created and contributing to the sloppy symphony as you pleasure him with your hand.

“Please what, then? What do you want?” You taunt, looking up at him as you feel his cock throbbing under your touch. 

His face is flushed as he shyly meets your intense gaze, trying not to stumble on his words after trying so hard to string together a coherent sentence. 

“Please…let me cum.” He barely gets out, another pathetic moan nearly cutting him off mid sentence. 

Your hand picks up the pace; coaxing him to his finish but as he needily bucks into your fist, you decide to let Hoseok chase after his own climax just for your own amusement. Watching him closely, you observe how his chest rises and falls quicker with his moans coming more frequently. He was so beautiful like this, he could probably make the Greek gods green with envy. His body tenses as his orgasm rapidly builds. With one more tight tug of his cock, his seed spills all over your hand, some of it falling into your lap. 

Your hand slows down, but you don’t stop your ministrations as you force Hoseok to ride out his climax no matter how much he whines. 

“I’m so sensitive. It’s too much.” He pants out; yet his body says otherwise as he’s still bucking into your hand, the sticky mess of cum making him glide in and out of your fist easier. 

“You like it though,” You laugh as you give his cock another squeeze, prompting more of the milky substance to seep out of the tip. “You really wanna end it here?” 

Standing up from your kneeling position, you finally release his cock from your hold and lap up the secretion clinging to your skin while observing Hoseok’s current state. His eyes are glossed over, in a daze as he watches you hungrily lick his cum off of your fingers. It isn’t until you have swallowed the last drop, he recovers from his post orgasm haze and feels revitalized. You can practically see the life return in his eyes and the moment he regains his energy, his posture straightens before lunging forward to toss you over his shoulder then haul you to his bedroom. 

For a human, he moves pretty swiftly and it impresses you. You’re further enamored by his strength; knowing that being able to lift you so easily was no feat to scoff at. When he tosses you onto the mattress, it causes the short cocktail dress you had been wearing to ride up and conveniently exposes your lace panties to him.

Hoseok is only able to admire you for a few seconds before the urge to touch you overwhelms him. Mentally, he wrestles with whether he should go straight for the treasure between your legs or if he should ease into it and take his time. But of course, you make the choice easy when you’re able to pick up on those thoughts. He looms over you, caging you in his arms, looking down at you with lust thinly veiled by that boyish charm you find yourself so enthralled by.

One hand slips into the fabric of your panties, making your lips part in a silent gasp. Hoseok’s touch is rough against your skin and he moves with an eagerness that excites your senses. His fingers gently gather the arousal that was leaking out of you before going to circle your swollen clit, causing a small moan to escape you. He’s fascinated by your mere existence; he didn’t think that the flesh of a vampire could be so warm. He wants to feel more of you.

Rather than rely on you telling him how to do things, Hoseok is eager to learn how to please you; letting your noises and body’s reactions guide him. Massaging your clit at varying speeds and pressures; bringing you so close to climaxing just from stimulating the small bundle of nerves then stopping when you were about to cum. He was a more attentive lover than you could have imagined and it doesn’t take long until you’re practically dripping all over his fingers and pleading for him to put them inside you. Not one to disappoint, he tears your skimpy underwear off your body; tossing the tattered fabric off to the side carelessly.  

His digits were completely covered in your arousal after the lewd petting so when he goes to slip his middle finger into your weeping hole, it slides in easily and is immediately followed by a second. You moan out loud at the intrusion and instinctively pull Hoseok in for a kiss to quiet yourself. His kisses are slow and tender, a stark contrast to the way his thick fingers fuck your sopping cunt. The heat of his lips against yours is an addictive sensation, but you end up breaking the kiss when his fingers roughly thrust into the sensitive, spongy spot within your walls. 

“Feel good?” He gently asks as his fingers slow down, deliberately rubbing up against that spot with more vigor. You think you let out some sort of positive affirmation to him—you’re not sure because your mind can only focus on how good you’re feeling—but his fingers pick up the pace once more, his palm slapping against your clit every time he thrusts deep inside. 

“F-fuck, just like that.” You slur, bucking your hips against his fingers, desperate to reach your climax and regain at least some of your mental clarity.

It’s impossible to ignore the slick noises your cunt makes as Hoseok’s fingers work to coax your climax out of you. You’re writhing against the sheets as the two digits inside you pound into you at an ungodly pace; and just when you thought it couldn’t get better, you feel his thumb rubbing at your clit to give you consistent stimulation there. The white hot heat that pools in the pit of your stomach burns brighter and hotter with every action Hoseok makes; your legs shaking and moans constantly pouring from your lips. With a shrill exclamation of his name, your back arches off of the mattress, vision going blurry. You can barely process what’s happening as before you’re squirting all over his fingers and soiling the sheets beneath you.

Eyes fluttering closed, you take a moment to yourself to even out your breathing and gather your thoughts. The bunched up fabric around your midsection suddenly feels constricting despite you having it on for a good portion of the evening so you take it upon yourself to yank it off your body as Hoseok’s fingers help you ride out the remains of your climax.

He had been eyeing your juicy pussy the whole time. Watching you squirt was one of the most erotic things he’s seen and he desperately wants a taste of you. The only thing stopping him is his uncertainty about whether you would like it if he dove back in so soon after your orgasm.  His thoughts are so loud now that you’re not so consumed with lust.   

Unfortunately for him, eating you out is a privilege he has not earned yet. He would have to wait for another time. You can see his expression briefly become sullen once you relay the thought to him, but you put an emphasis on the fact that there will be a next time which makes him perk right up.

 So, for now he would be satisfied with licking your remains off of his fingers after he pulls them out of you. 

“Oh, wow.” You muse as you prop yourself up on your elbows, getting a better look at him. “Your little friend is up after I fed on you and milked you dry? Aren’t you something special?” 

Your gaze fixes itself between Hoseok’s legs and you wonder how long he had been sporting that hard on; and also, why on Earth did it look bigger than before? In all your time of being alive and playing with your food, never had you seen a man so lively after being drained of two bodily fluids. 

Sitting back on his knees and no longer looking down at you, he blesses you with some more eye candy; letting you ogle at him for a bit and really take in just how well built he was. Your eyes trail up the expanse of his body before you meet his and realize the needy expression he now wears.

“Can I please fuck you now?” He asks the dirty question so sweetly, how could you possibly say no? The mere sound of his words make you wanna jump on him. The only thing that stops you from doing so is the fact that you wanna know what exactly he’s capable of. 

Beckoning him closer to you, you invite Hoseok to fill the space between your parted legs, silently relinquishing all control to him. 

With one hand wrapped around the base of his cock, you watch as he taps the swollen head against your overly sensitive clit; a shiver running down your spine at the sensation. You’re only able to watch in a lust filled haze as Hoseok drags his cock against your pussy, happily coating it in your arousal. Once his thick length is nice and wet, he eases the tip into you slowly. Just as the first inch slides in, you feel your toes go numb as he stretches you out. As Hoseok sinks deeper into you, your eyes roll back at the pain laced with pleasure. He may have done an amazing job at making you cum with his fingers, but now your walls were so tight and sensitive; trying to take in the girth of his cock isn’t easy. It hurts but you’re begging him for more; and Hoseok eagerly obliges, filling you up to the hilt and just admiring the way your cunt molds to fit him. 

Taking a hold of your thighs in each hand, he pushes them against your chest, leaving your ankles to dangle over his shoulders. Leaning into you, the weight of his body presses you into this excruciating folded position but the mild discomfort is easily overshadowed by just how deep you feel his cock. His balls press against your ass, catching the arousal that leaks from your center before his hips draw back just to deliver you a hard thrust that sets the tone for the rest that follow, a choked out gasp slips out of you. 

Your eyes roll back into your head as Hoseok fucks you into the sheets, your mind becoming scrambled and only able to focus on how good he makes you feel. Good was a gross understatement for the pleasure he gives you but it would have to suffice with how hazy your mind was.

It doesn’t take long until he’s desperately rutting into you, the sound of skin slapping against skin mixed in with your moans and Hoseok’s heavy panting filling his otherwise silent bedroom.   

“Oh my god,” He rasps out. “How are you so wet?” His question comes out as a breathless whisper. Both of you are able to feel the gush of arousal that seeps out of your pussy at the sound of his voice but rather than make another comment on it, he thrusts into you faster. You snap out of your daze just to watch Hoseok’s head fall back as he loses himself in the feeling of how wet and warm your walls around his cock. 

“There, fuck, right there!” You barely get out between moans as the angle of his thrusts shift ever so slightly and hits that spongy spot inside of you that makes you see stars. Half lidded eyes focus on how much more attractive he appears as he’s pounding away at your g-spot, eager to make you cum again. 

Your legs shake and your moans get breathier and whinier. All the tell tale signs of you being extremely close to cumming were there, but it still took you by surprise when your walls squeezed down impossibly tight on his dick. You shiver as your climax hits you, your juices trickling down on to his length that’s still moving in and out of you as he’s now able to selfishly chase after his own orgasm. Breathy whimpers fall from you as he continues to stimulate your walls, fucking you through your climax and prolonging the sensation of euphoria overtaking your body. 

“W-where should I cum?” Hoseok asks, looking down at you with pupils blown out with lust and the neediest expression on his face. 

“Wherever you want.” You tell him as a tired smile graces your features, your hand reaching to stroke his cheek fondly. You see it in his eyes, the notion of being allowed to cum where he wanted excites him even more. He pummels into your pussy at his fastest speed yet, searching for his own little slice of heaven within your walls. With the most beautiful sound you’ve heard, he finally unleashes his load inside of you, filling you to the brim with his cum. You sigh happily as you let him take a few more moments to ride out his climax before slipping your legs off of his shoulders and carefully pulling yourself off of his cock. 

Hoseok’s orgasm had sapped the last bit of energy he had out of him as he slumped onto the bed, lying opposite of you. Satisfied with your encounter with him, you kiss his forehead and wish him sweet dreams before you bid him goodbye. 

You would disappear before the sun started to rise, but once it was nightfall, you would happily return to him.

[torhues]

miya atsumu.

even though he acts like some love god, atsumu is actually a failure in the love department of life.

it’s embarrassing, funny and pitiful at the same time to watch him confess to you— or rather, talk about how much of a blessing he is to this earth, and that you should be honoured for he’s offering you the golden opportunity to date him.

so just like always, atsumu finds himself sitting next to you before classes, a soft smile dancing on his lips. one may find it painful to not be in the same class with their crush but atsumu, he doesn’t care. you can always spot him next you before and after classes, during lunch, from home to school and back, even more. and as much as he wishes people would assume you both are dating, there’s only one rumour that spins in the air— atsumu doesn’t have any shame, and you don’t have the guts to accept your feelings towards him.

but cut to the base line, the truth is a whole another story.

“we should date, y’know?” atsumu smirks, pointing at you and himself simultaneously as he leans further on the desk next to you for a better look at your face. “you and me.”

you sigh, leaning against the chair. “atsumu, it’s eight in the morning.”

“and, your point is?”

“my point is that i’m not mentally prepared for this now,” which is partially a lie, partially. mornings are for classes and crying over how your days always start with maths lessons. however, having atsumu by your side is always appreciated, even though he’s annoying.

“you don’t even have to do much,” he rests his head on his palms, shooting you his infamous smirk as a few students around pretend to gawk at this utterly cheap attempt at flirting. “just say yes when i ask you out on a date.”

“why should i?”

and he sits straight on the chair as if he’s about to present the ten slides long presentation about why you both would be a good couple — which it is, to be specific, except there are no slides, just him rambling, hoping to make sense. and you are enjoying it to bits. “don’t you want everyone to be jealous of you and say, ‘oh my god, yn, your boyfriend is so handsome and hot—”

“no,” you interject, a few chuckles emerging from the stray gazes that have been lingering on you ever since you stepped into the campus. “besides, if i wanted to make people jealous, i would just date kita-san,” and atsumu understands your point, for once. kita, despite being the one to avoid attention, has always been popular amongst students and school faculty. atsumu aspires to be like him, to be someone who's able to pull girls and guys without even trying.

“okay, number two,” he begins, “we get along just fine. you're also close to my friends, even 'samu— even though he's not that important,”

you sigh, putting your pen down on the table. “i get along just fine with most of the students. should i date them all?”

“that's not what i mean,” his deadpan expression never fails to make you laugh, just like the way it did now. atsumu is effortlessly funny and that's one of the many good things about him, in case someone ever wonders what's so good about miya atsumu for being such a hotshot.

and truth to be told, you get what he's trying to say, it's the effort that matters. you would've accepted his confession right away because god, you can't wait to go on dates with him either, but it's atsumu, and teasing him has been your guilty pleasure for as long as you can remember.

“anyway, point number two; we've known each other for two years now. nothing much would change, we'd just get to kiss each other,” he continues.

“get to what, now?”

“kiss each other” his lips press into a thin line before breaking into a faint smirk. he's confident in his words, he knows that you know it too, “you look pretty kissable, you know?”

you'd be lying if you don't find him kissable yourself, and it's not because he's your crush or whatsoever. more like, atsumu is very annoying. so annoying that you want to kiss him breathless and make sure he keeps his mouth shut and not get on your nerves— or distract you every other second, if you phrase it in more honest words, though it actually is just an excuse.

he says it’s one of his charms. it may be, not many have the charms of annoying every single they try to approach or get in trouble every other day. not kicking him out of school is blatant favouritism, and one might as well add that his charms are hypnotic, for he has every teacher wrapped around him with his honey drizzled words. you agree, you really do. miya atsumu is charming, and a man with charms with a very dangerous thing.

“oh well— wait,” you pause, standing up before pointing your index finger at him. “i get it now,”

“what?”

“you want us to date just because you want to kiss me,”

“yes. i mean, no,” he retracts. “that is one of the many other reasons why we should date; for example, you get to kiss me too,”

you hate his guts. you find it equally annoying and seductive how one moment, he looks ever so scared, thinking he messed up big time and just a second later, the thing carving fear under his skin in the very reason behind the wavering confidence in his eyes. “sounds more like a contract. you kiss me, i kiss you, it's—”

“we can take it further if you feel like it,” he's leaning on your desk, a menacing smile dancing on his lips. “i mean, we can go on dates and all,” he chuckles. “you weren't thinking of anything else, now, were you?”

there's a certain look in his eyes that makes you conscious of everything around, about the two people from the back of your classroom enjoying your little show, about how you're about to lose your mind because atsumu can't stop being an insufferable asshole even while asking you out, but it's fine. he tends to have that effect on people. it's what made you fall for him in the first place, the way he makes you feel so out of place and yet at ease.

and when you don't reply to next few seconds, atsumu comes up with another reason why you should date him. “besides, if we don't date, i'll have to buy lunch for 'samu this whole week,” he says it as if it's the biggest problem in his life at the moment. “you should date me to make sure i have money for our dates,”

“sounds like you're the only one getting the benefits here,” you make sure to say it with an obvious hint of disappointment, continuing to work on your assignment before looking up at him. “what about me?”

“it's a win for you too,” he adds, leaning closer, you know what it means, and something inside you gives a hint about what he's going to say. “you get to kiss me,”

and when he finally captures your lips with his, you realise that maybe, atsumu isn't wrong after all. perhaps, dating him isn't a half bad deal.

[satansamwriting]

I was wondering if I could ask for Mileena (MK11) with a reader who's from earth but inst scared by her and thinks her teeth are really cool?

It's okay if not, have a good day! (⁠・⁠∀⁠・⁠)

MK11 Mileena with GN!reader

Hi there! I hope you are also having a good day!

Since Mileena isn't really part of MK11 storyline, I made up something. Hopefully, it does your prompt justice.

Disclaimer : English ain't my native language so there might be mistakes ahead. I apologises for them and will try my best to correct them if I see them.

00o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

No matter where their eyes lingered, darkness filled their sight.The disorienting place was to be their prison, where they would be trapped forever. Or so the Titan of time said. Back pressed on the solid ground, they stared at what they could only assume was the sky. If you could define black nothingless as such.

Nearby, voices changed from small  whispers to unnecessarily loud shouts. Turning their head toward the sound, (Y/n) observed the scene. Two duos faced each other, both sides had their weapon drawn as more shouting spilled from their lips. A sorcerer and a princess of Outworld stood on one side while the god of wind and a matoka’s warrior stood on the other. 

Even since arriving in this endless prison, the four of them have been on eachother throat. Much to (Y/n) annoyance. However, the constant fight proved to be the only source of entertainment they could find. 

Green magic shattered into tiny sparks upon impact with the ground. Some went as far as to reach the observer. Strong winds gathered around the god and even from their spot away from the fight, (Y/n) had to shield their eyes from the gust. No matter the distance they seemed to take from the ongoing battle, they would fall victim to some of the attacks. Even if they themselves weren't the desired target. 

An arrow meant for the sorcerer ending its course inside (Y/n) thighs. Burst of green flames thrown toward the matoka’s warriors only to hit them in the back. What made the situation more infuriating was the lack of awareness from the kombatant. Not once did they notice the repercussion of their actions. 

Screams followed by metal screeching against each other echoed into the void, forcing (Y/n) out of their thoughts.Mere seconds later, a body flew through the air and ended its course near them, in what must have been a painful landing. Blinking away the surprise, (Y/n) peeked to their left, their eyes meeting reptilian ones. The princess laid on the ground, a gushing wound on her chest. 

Reluctantly, (Y/n) stood up.They were used to this by now. A fight would break up between the four and one or more would end up injured, that included themselves as well. Being a simple earthrealmer without any fighting abilities, (Y/n) always preferred to stay out of fights. Don’t get them wrong, (Y/n) knew how to fight well enough but their ability was more defensive than offensive.Thus making them not particularly fond of kombat.

Feeling the pain of their sore muscles as they approached the princess, (Y/n) wished they could escape this endless place. 

The princess sneered at them, showing her pointy teeth. She tried to hurt them as they crouched beside her but the amount of blood she had lost made her weak. Without paying much attention to what was happening behind, (Y/n) took hold of the Sai in her bloodied hand.Threats spilled out of her mouth but they paid it no mind. With how injured the princess was, there was nothing she could do to prevent them from whatever they were doing. Slashing the palm of their hand, (Y/n) let their blood drip over the wound. Mileena’s eyes were glued to her wound as it mended back together.

No words of gratitude were given afterwards. Not that they expected some. The slash on their hand had closed, leaving only a smear of red behind. Mileena stared at them cautiously, perhaps she did not understand the kindness of the earthrealmer or the reason why someone like them would help someone like her. 

*****

Amidst the vast openness of their prison, (Y/n) indulged themselves in their favourite pastime. Meaning, they laid on the cold hard ground, wondering how much time had passed since their arrival. Had it been days? Or weeks? Maybe months? There was no way to know, no way to tell if it was night or day or how many hours had gone by. (Y/n) hated how quiet it would become whenever the others stopped fighting. Shang Tsung would go back to pacing around, lost in his own thoughts. Fujin and Nightwolf would sit together, oftentimes conversing in low volume. As for Mileena, she preferred to keep to herself. 

This time around was no different. Except for the princess who now stood on their left side. She seemed uncomfortable standing there.Straightening up, (Y/n) waited for the princess. 

“Why?”

Despite her intimidating mouth filled with sharp teeth and her imposing piercing eyes, (Y/n) couldn’t help but find her beautiful. 

“You need to be more precise, your highness.”

She sneered at them, her Sai in hands. 

“Why did you help me?”

A question not unfamiliar to their ears. As saddening as those words were, (Y/n) tried their best to remain stoic. They wonder if the princess truly thought of herself as unworthy of help. Perhaps she was simply not used to someone else offering help. Mileena grew impatient as the silence stretched between the two. Shrugging, (Y/n) offered her a courtesy smile.

“ Because I couldn't stand to watch you bleed out, especially  when I could do something to help.” 

Whether the answer pleased or displeased her, Mileena didn’t show it. Her eyes were glued to them, analysing each and every move they did. The weight of her gaze would make anyone falter underneath it but for (Y/n) the attention was welcomed. They could tell the princess wasn’t used to such kindness. Under dumbfounded eyes, the princess sat beside them. No conversation followed, both opting to appreciate the comforting silence over making awkward small talk. 

********

Woken by the sound of an explosion, (Y/n) didn’t need to see to know what was happening. Stretching their sore muscles, they scanned the emptiness until their eyes landed on the battlefield. Shaking their head, (Y/n) observed from the sideline as usual. This time, their eyes tracked the movement of the princess, not once paying attention to the others. Even with her intimidating physique and aggressivity, Mileena fought with grace unparalleled by others. Every move seemed effortless, almost like memorised choreography. She was gorgeous. 

With their attention solely on Mileena, (Y/n) failed to notice the sorcerer missed spell. Green skulls pierced through the air, going straight toward them.Pain flared across their chest as the impact propelled them backward onto the solid ground. If only for a small fraction of time, the world plunged into quiet darkness. Something warm pressed against their chest, forcing them back into the moment. Laying on top of them was Mileena, her reptilian eyes fixed on their visage. Blood dripped from her back where (Y/n) presumed the spell must have hit. She had protected them using her own body as a shield. 

(Y/n) felt guilty. Because of their own carelessness, Mileena ended up badly injured. One arm on her shoulder, the earthrealmer silently asked for her to keep still. Moving would only aggravate the wound. Using their free hand, they reached for her discarded weapon until they could feel the sharp edge slice into their palm.

Mileena winced at the slight burning sensation of her healing wound.Unable to explain her own action in her head, the princess, once (Y/n) relished the hand on her shoulder, quickly moved away from the other. Despite her disgust toward Earthrealm, she couldn’t deny the growing curiosity and fondness toward (Y/n). Perhaps it was due to their unique ability. Or maybe it was the kindness they showed her seemingly unafraid of her deformation. No matter the reason, Mileena stayed by their side until they were able to move. Behind them, the fight continued as if nothing happened. 

“Thank you, your highness.”

Startled by their words, Mileena scoffed. 

“Don’t thank me, I’m just repaying you for what you did before.”

The smile they offered after her words brought an unknown feeling inside her chest. Something she would have to analyse later but for now, she allowed the strangeness to stay. If (Y/n) noticed the tiny smile she was wearing, they did not comment on it. Perhaps spending the rest of their life inside a void like prison with her by their side wasn’t bad afterall. 

[widowsistersandfriends]

Tickle Trap

Request: The reader is Steves younger sister. She wants to join the Avengers like her best friend peter and the rest of her family. Steve, however, is very much against it due to his overprotective nature, and the reader is still young (still in high school with spiderling). Despite having no superhuman abilities, she wants to prove herself. One day, while rummaging through old items in the Avengers compound, the reader stumples upon Natashas old (outdated) spy tech - seeing it as her golden opportunity to prove herself. Maybe if she can trick and trap her brother, he will see she is more than capable. However, as she has no real training or idea on how to use the stuff, she quickly traps herself, leaving her to her brother's (nonexistent, as bad guys don't show it in the field) mercy

Notes: Thank you so much for this request! I love the idea behind it, and I had a lot of fun writing it! Thanks for being patient for this fic, I appreciate it! I also added Natasha in there to help enhance the plot, and I hope you enjoy! Also special thanks to @thenigotthisfamily for helping me figure out the ending! ❤️

Word Count: 1820

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“How come I can’t be cool like the rest of you?” You questioned Steve, who was your older brother and the famous Captain America. Despite not having any superhuman strength or superpowers, there was nothing more you wanted than being an Avenger.

“Because, it’s too dangerous, and I don’t want you getting hurt,” he replied.

“I could say the same thing about you. How come it’s okay for you to get hurt?” You persisted.

“There’s a much lower chance of me getting hurt due to my super strength. Besides, you’re too young anyway,” Steve said.

“I’m the same age as Peter! He gets to be an Avenger,” you said unhappily.

“He’s only an Avenger because he was bitten by a spider that gave him spider senses. Otherwise he’d be too young and not fit either,” Steve said. 

You huffed in annoyance, knowing that you would find a way no matter what.

The next day, you were rummaging in the old storage room at the compound. You were looking for something easy enough to use so you could prove your skills to your older brother. You tossed a few things aside, as they looked too complicated. However, you now stumbled upon what looked like a simple contraption with a remote control. Once the button was pressed, the trap was activated, and the person would be trapped in it. Not only would you prove that you could use their equipment, you would also show that you could outsmart a superhero. Your plan was to wait in Steve’s room and hide. When he entered, you would activate the trap. However, things don’t always go as planned.

You were hiding in Steve’s room behind his dresser. You smiled to yourself, giddy to see your plan in action. However, while you were squatting there, you felt a cramp form in your foot, causing you to fall out of your squatting position and hit the button with your knee. With that, the device activated, ropes shooting out at once and quickly trapping you to the wall with your hands and arms away from your body.

“Oh no! I’m so screwed,” you said to yourself, struggling to break free. If your brother caught you getting trapped with your own trap, he would never believe you had what it takes to be an Avenger. You contemplated whether you should struggle more to escape, or call it quits and yell for help. You twisted and turned, but the trap was so tight and well done that there was no hope. You swallowed hard before shouting, “Somebody help! I’m stuck!”

“Is that Y/N?!?” You heard Steve gasp from downstairs, as you also heard Natasha telling Steve that she would come help.

You heard footsteps trampling up the stairs quickly, and before you knew it, you had to face the music. The music of embarrassment.

“Hi guys,” you said shyly, avoiding eye contact.

“Y/N, what on earth happened?” Steve and Natasha asked at the same time.

You thought about whether you should lie or not. Lying may make them forgive you faster, but you also knew you were a terrible liar. You took a deep breath before speaking.

“I uhh found this thing, and it trapped me?” You finished, making it sound more like a question than a statement.

“Where did you find my old spy gear?” Natasha asked, shocked that it was even still around and worked. You didn’t say anything, as you weren’t sure how to get out of answering that question.

“Are you okay Y/N? Like is it hurting you?” Steve asked. You shook your head no.

“Well, we’re both glad you’re okay, but I still don’t understand how any of this happened,” Natasha said, looking around the room for any clues.

“Did someone else do this to you?” It’s okay to tell us, we promise we won’t get you in trouble or anything,” Steve said, worried that someone messed with his little sister.

“No, I promise no one else was involved and didn’t hurt me,” you reassured them.

“So if no one else was involved, that means you trapped yourself? Why would you do that?” Steve asked.

“I plead the fifth,” you said, sticking your tongue out at your brother, now being silly after clearing up that you weren’t hurt or picked on by anyone.

Steve looked taken aback at first, but quickly righted himself.

“Oh so you want us to get that information out of you huh?” Steve said, walking over to you, with Natasha not too far behind.

“Wait! No! What are you gonna do to me?” You asked, suddenly feeling very exposed. You were trapped against the wall, no part of you was touching the ground. Only the wall.

“Let’s just say, we know every human’s weakness,” Steve said, grinning at Natasha.

With that, Steve reached out to tickle your sides, causing you to scream with laughter in response. 

“STEHEHEVE STAHAHAHAP THAHAHAT,” you laughed, unable to hold it in. 

“Better tell us what happened then,” he teased. He knew you were stubborn, so he targeted all your weak spots. Luckily for him, you had many of them to choose from.

You squealed with laughter as he began vibrating his fingers between your ribs, a spot that you absolutely could not stand.

“PLEHEHEASE IHIHI SWEHEHEAR IHIHIHI CAHAHANT TAHAHAHAKE IHIHIT,” you screamed.

“Oh you’ll take it. At least until you spill,” Natasha said, now bending down to tickle your feet with her ridiculously perfectly sharp nails. To make it worse, Steve was now digging into your armpits, making you wheeze with laughter.

They could tell you were getting out of breath, so they gave you a break and a chance to talk.

“Ready to talk little missy,” Natasha said, coming over to poke your tummy. You flinched and bit back a giggle.

“Not to you,” you replied, knowing it would only cause trouble. The redhead began to quickly spider her nails over your kneecaps, a spot you didn’t even know could be ticklish.

You snorted hard, shaking your head from side to side, as you wiggled your legs as much as you could to get away from the tortuous nails.

“Natahahahasha stahahahap plehehehease,” you giggled breathlessly.

“Come on, you know you want to spill,” Natasha teased.

“Okahahahay plehehehease juhuhust stahahahap,” you barely managed to get out. Natasha stopped tickling you, as they both waited for a response.

“We’re waitinggggg,” Steve said goofily. 

“Keep waiting,” you said smugly, knowing exactly how to get on your brother’s every nerve.

“You really want me to get that spot, don’t you?” Steve asked with a smirk.

“NO PLEASE! ANYWHERE BUT THEHEHEHEHERE STAHAHAHAP OHOHO MY GOHOHOSH PLEHEHEASE,” you screamed, as Steve wiggled his finger around your belly button.

“Spill, Y/N, or Natasha will go get an electric toothbrush. Your eyes widened at that, assuming it would be a thousand times worse than this already was.

“OHOHOKAHAHAY IHIHI WAS TRYIHING TOHO PROHOVE THAHAT I COULD BEHEHE AN AVEHEHENGER,” you shouted, desperate for your worst tickle spot to stop being tortured.

“Oh Y/N, I know you want to be an Avenger,” Steve said softly.

“But this could’ve been really dangerous. What was your plan to use this anyway?” Natasha asked.

“I was gonna wait for Steve to come in, and I would hide and trap him to prove that I could use the same tools a spy once did,” you said, now feeling small.

To your surprise, Natasha grinned and came over and patted you on the head.

“I have to say, that wasn’t a bad plan, and I would’ve loved to see that happen,” Natasha said with a laugh.

“Hey!! That’s mean,” Steve said, as you giggled.

“I’m sorry for putting myself into potential danger and not listening to you,” you apologized.

“It’s okay, Y/N, we just want you to be safe and away from harm. As an older brother, it’s natural for me to protect you from harm’s way,” Steve said, as you nodded.

“I still think we gotta tickle her a little more as punishment,” Natasha said cheekily.

“Right, make her sorry for all the times she’s asked to be an Avenger,” Steve said, as the two of them were formulating a plan telepathically. With that, Natasha pushed a little on your back, as the trap gave a little room for you to arch your back. “Does this tickle?” Natasha asked, slowly spidering her nails over your lower back.

“YEHEHES IHIHIT TIHIHICKLES NOW STAHAHAHAP,” you laughed, arching your back, leaving your tummy out for Steve to tickle.

You were a mess of laughter now, wanting to both arch your back and suck in your stomach. The fact that one had to be sacrificed was torture to you. You lost it when Steve went back to your belly button, along with the back tickles.

“GUHUHUYS PLEHEHEASE NOHOHO MOHOHORE ENOHOUGH,” you squealed, turning red and beginning to sweat. The two of them had mercy and pulled away, releasing you from the trap.

“Oh my gosh, you guys are the worst. Who the heck is that good at tickling,” you grumbled.

“Us apparently,” Steve said, smiling down at you. You rolled your eyes in response.

“Have you learned your lesson?” Natasha asked, as you nodded.

“Hey don’t worry kid, we all make mistakes. But, I have something in mind that might make you feel better,” Natasha said. Your ears perked up and you turned towards her.

“While you don’t have superhero powers, that doesn’t mean you can’t be a part of our team. Why don’t I make you the master tickler of the team?” Natasha said reactivating the device, this time on Steve, putting him in the exact same situation you were in.

“Natasha don’t you dare!” Steve shouted, trying to remain calm.

“Allow me to tell you exactly how to wreck the brave and strong Captain America,” the redhead said, telling you where to attack.

“You TRAITOHOHOR!” Steve laughed, as you tickled into his deep hollows. A spot that Natasha frequently targeted when they had tickle fights.

“You may be able to beat me in a fight of strength, but you can’t beat me in a tickle fight,” you teased, poking his ribs.

“Y/N STAHAHAP IHIHIT TIHIHICKLES,” Steve squealed, making you giggle. You gave his sides a good squeeze and even found a good spot around his ears and neck, thanks to Natasha’s help.

 Eventually you let him go after getting a good amount of revenge. Natasha knew she would be the next target, so she ran off faster than light. Unfortunately for her, she had left the device behind. So you and your older brother planned revenge. The best way siblings could bond. You also had a new title of Master Tickler at the compound, which many of them found ironic given how ticklish you were. But it didn’t matter, since you had an official title with the group you belonged with. The Avengers.

[pinkthick]

I’ll always be there for you

Credits: @bluekernal / @quaritchsgirl

Pairing: Avatar!Miles Quaritch & Kid!Miles Socorro

Summary: After waking up from his slumber feeling a little bit better, Miles discovers that Quaritch has made him soup. He initially doesn't want to eat it, but he eventually does after seeing how disappointed his father was that he didn't want to at least try it. But to his disbelief it was actually quite decent.(this is more of a little drabble that continues the last part)

Notes: Please take a moment to read this. Check out @bluekernal / @quaritchsgirl ’s blog because she created this AU, and let me tell you, her artwork is incredible.This fanfiction was greatly inspired by her drawings.

While Miles did pass away in this fanfiction exactly like in the original film, the RDA would have started this project earlier because the avatar body was already on Pandora and the humans hadn’t been sent back to earth. The humans are still living there, but the Na’vi still don’t accept them so fights ensure from time to time. Even though Quaritch is an avatar now, he still retains his previous memories, and he continues to serve in the ‘military’ on Pandora without his consent since he literally became the RDA’s propriety, but Jake Sully isn’t that important to him, his son on the other hand is what matters most to Quaritch.

Little Miles rubbed his eyes and groggily shifted over, realizing he had dozed off once more. He didn’t know what time it was. Though it could have been minutes or hours earlier, the last thing he recalled was his father feeding him yogurt. He noticed that someone was sitting on the edge of his bed as the sheets next to him were pulled down as he slid sideways and then he murmured, "In with me?"

Quaritch sitting on his bed stood up, walked towards the head of the bed, and before sitting again on it he fetched the warm bowl of soup in his hands. Seeing the food, his stomach suddenly gurgled loudly and they both stared, then broke down into giggles.

“How are you feeling tiger?” Quaritch asked as he ran a blue hand through his blonde curly hair.

"Much better!" He could remember most of what he had done when his delirious fever had finally subsided. He was quite glad that Quaritch wasn't upset with him even after entering the meeting where his father was present. The Colonel yelled at him the last time he did something similar, and he was even grounded without his tablet for a month. However, Z-Dog gave him her tablet without the avatar knowing, so it wasn't all that horrible because he could still play games. He even broke her high score on Angry Birds.

“The Earth to Miles? Quaritch asked as he gave the child a gentle prod and the young kid immediately smiled in response. "Don't you want to want to eat so that you'll get big and strong?"

And at that he nodded but when he saw the soup, little Miles grimaced a little and said, "What is that?"

Although he knew his chicken soup was probably not the best, Quaritch did his best to prepare it because Lyle was also unwell so there was nobody to cook for them. His ears pressed against his head as he said in a low voice “It's chicken soup."

“That doesn't look like chicken soup” the young child said as he cast a bewildered glance at his father.

As Quaritch anxiously flinched his tail, he said, "Well, I made this. But it’s okay..if you don’t want to eat it." The child really didn't want to eat it, but he did open his mouth when he noticed his father's sad expression. As a smile spread across the marine’s face, the colonel filled the spoon with soup and a small amount of chicken and gave it to Miles.

The little boy thought it would be much worse based on how it looked, but it was actually pretty..decent. Especially since his father made it. The last time he attempted to cook, Lyle and Ja shouted at him and kicked him out of the kitchen. He wasn't sure if his father was furious or embarrassed back then; perhaps it was both. But seeing him mumble to himself, saying how Lyle and Ja were dipshits, was rather amusing.

But soon enough, Quaritch put an empty dish on the nightstand and shifted so that he was now sitting on the bed next to Miles and he lightly caressed his hair. He definitely needed to give him a haircut soon, but Miles didn’t want one. The 4 year old wanted to let his hair grow out so that he could braid it like his father. But the main issue? Is that Quaritch had no idea how to handle his curly hair or how to take care of curly hair in general. He realized when Miles was around 2 years old that brushing it would make it very..frizzy? Nevermind. The whole point is that he needs to learn more about curly hair and how to take care of it. For his son’s sake.

“How was the soup?” Quaritch asked as he saw how his eyes were starting to close again. The little kid immediately opened them and nuzzled closer to his father. Little Miles couldn’t help but make a pun “Soup-er!” He croaked, grinning and that made Quaritch smile.

It just warmed his heart seeing little Miles being bundled up in the bed, his tiny form cocooned in soft blankets against his avatar body. Soon enough, the boy reached out with his tiny fingers and gently hold onto the braid and that made Quaritch stir a little bit. He was gently weaving his fingers through it and asked “Can you read me a short story, please?”

“Sure.” He replied as he reached out to grab Miles' favorite book. Quaritch was perplexed as to why the 4-year-old had always had a stronger connection to Pandora. Even the earliest Na'vi legends were fascinating to him. His eyes would shine with wonder whenever the colonel read to him, and he would pay close attention to everything he said.

Miles listened intently, his imagination taking flight as his father painted vivid pictures with words. Quaritch however, he couldn't help but draw parallels between the story and the reality they were in. The Na’vi cherished their planet, valuing the delicate balance that kept the ecosystem thriving. It was a stark contrast to the ways of his home planet, where resources were exploited without thought for the consequences. It was just sad.

Maybe. Just maybe, it was a good thing that he was now an avatar. Sure, it has been hard to..accommodate with his new body, but he was so much better than before. His human body was weak, but this? This was the whole pack.

Quaritch turned a page, and cleared his throat “Chapter twelve..”

The little boy sighed deeply. He wasn’t sure how long the colonel had been reading to him, but it had been a long time. His headache returned and he took the medicine his father gave him but it still didn’t go away. But at one point, Quaritch’s eyes began to feel heavy, and his head dropped slightly and the 4 year old noticed his father’s fatigue and he adjusted himself on the bed and snuggled again up next to him. He rested his head against his father’s strong chest, feeling the reassuring heartbeat beneath his ear.

“Hey there, little buddy," Quaritch whispered, his voice rough but filled with tender care. "Feeling any better?"

Miles gave a weak nod, his big blue eyes looking so much like Paz’s and the colonel finally felt himself relax.

He finally put the book down and wrapped an arm around his son, pulling him close. To be honest, he knew he wasn’t the best father, oh hell, but he knew that he was doing at least a decent job. He wasn’t one to show his tender side easily, but his little son had a way of warming him up.

But one thing was for sure. He would always protect him and love him. Quaritch kissed him softly and then watched for a moment as he appeared to drift off to sleep.

“Sweet dreams tiger.”

Part 1/ Part 2/ Part 3/ Part 4/ ?

Notes: I haven’t written in so long and this is short but hey, at least I did write this. I’ve been in a writer’s block for about 5 months? Something like that. I don’t know why I wrote this but enjoy.

[pigeonpeach]

Yandere academy Childe x Onee-san reader

A/n please read: hello! This is fanwork of another writers au aka @yestrday ‘s yandere genshin academy au. I heavily recommend binging their stuff its really good. In particular this piece takes on the sort of onee-san (big sister) route where basically y/n /reader spends most of their time taking care of the first years and overall just being a big ol sweetheart. I just LOVED how the author depicts the older students reacting and getting all jealous over not having y/n’s full attention so i had to write something. Of course i did put some of my own traits into y/n. My favs were Childe and Zhongli so i might write a version with Zhongli instead if i get the inspo.

Cn: not much really, childe is a lil creepy and touchy but y/n is kinda into it lowkey. I cant write make out scenes but theres still alot of it. Also minor mentions of hurt with bennett.

Who could possibly hate l/n y/n. A third year student with a great reputation and grades. Lots of friends, and lots and lots of admirers. But their kindness was their most beloved trait. Y/n always packed extra food for lunch in case a dear friend had forgotten or lost theirs. Y/n often helped out at the nurses office and seemed to have the most soothing voice as they’d patch up students who could be sobbing and shaking. In general they were a well liked and somewhat popular student so it was no surprise they had plenty of admirers. If only they had as much time as Y/n’s biggest flaw was also their kindness. It never felt good to turn people down. Especially when they themselves would love to spend time with their fellow seniors. However they knew Bennett would be sulking if he didn’t see them at lunch today. It honestly left a poor taste in their mouth having to turn down Venti’s offer of a picnic at lunch today. But they didn’t want to pass by the nurses office again and see him in there. Y/n’s heart was solid gold but gold itself is a weak metal that can easily bend.

What was supposed to be a picnic with Childe ended up getting canceled last minute as you held a bruised Bennett in their arms. Wrapping the bandages around tightly but not too tight. “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to knock over all those chemicals in the science room!” No matter how exhausted you were though, you never seemed to get tired of Bennett, he was such a lovable little kid, you couldn’t help it. Taking care of people was just a natural instinct within you, which made you get along splendidly with Bennett who more often than not needed taking care of. “Its not your fault Benny I know. I don’t blame you one bit, I’m just glad none of those chemicals were dangerous.” You were finally finished with the last of the bandages and gave Bennett a little kiss on the cheek. “Now you’ll probably be in the nurses office for awhile, I’ll go bring you back some lunch okay? Just wait here”Bennett, his face turned a delicate pink as he eagerly shook his head.

You smiled as you exited out the door. Your tranquility was soon interrupted as you made your by a sudden tug backwards. You could barely blink before feeling your back pinned up against the lockers.

“You’re really messing with me aren’t you~ I hardly get to have any time with you nowadays and you go off to play nanny with that first year!” Childe’s fist was clenched tightly next to your head resting against the cold metal. “I was looking forward to our little date today, you had me thinking I could finally have a second of your oh so precious time and then you run off to comfort him!” He pressed himself into you trapping you against the locker.

“Okay I’m sorry about forgetting but you’re acting psychotic! What on earth are you trying to pull here huh? We’re still at school you dumb-aAH!” You barely got to cover your mouth as Childe eagerly bit into your neck. You bit your lip out of shock, you could barely focus on anything, you hadn’t exactly ever done this before. To witness Childe in such a primal and instinctual mood felt so intimate. You were almost flattered that simply forgetting a lunch hangout had been enough to get him so worked up over you... The sensation of Childe possessively biting into your neck,You could feel your resolve and hesitation melt as you try one last time to pry him off. Finally with a wet smack of his lips he gleefully pulled back revealing a big bruise right on your jugular, out in the open, unable to be hidden with the collar of your uniform. He grinned with a smile you could only describe as manic. Why was it kind of hot though-

“Y-you… You IDIOT! What am I going to do if the staff see this! Gosh I knew you were careless but i didn’t think you would be downright stupid!” Childe basked in pride at your reddened face. As you quickly opened your locker trying to find a jacket of something to cover with.

“Oh please, this wasn’t careless at all. I made sure no body was coming around these parts at this time. And besides, I have a scarf you could borrow if you’re really that insecure about it~” He pressed his mouth right against their ear. You practically died inside then.

“You better! I could get expelled if the school thought I was doing something indecent! I’m not wasting my scholarship just because you’re a little pent up you know?” You practically tugged the scarf off of his and lazily wrapped it around yourself. You were ready to chew him out again when he fixed the scarf to look more presentable. Your cheeks were warm and pink then. He chuckled.

“See? you really have been depriving yourself haven’t you, all this work just to keep that first year alive, you keep rejecting and rejecting my offers,saying you’re ‘just too busy today or maybe tomorrow’ when deep down I can tell you want nothing more than to let me take advantage of you~” He sneaked a quick peck at your cheek making you blush even more.

“Y-you’re wrong! Ah! Stop trapping me against the locker I’m trying to use it! Besides its super inappropriate!” Although, it did feel kind of nice being in his grasp. You spent practically your whole week helping Razor and Bennett prepare for some big tests in Chemistry, and your whole year so far was practically baby sitting the first years which as much as you enjoyed, wasnt always so... rewarding, it could get draining at times to be relied on too much, there was something about just pressing your back against the warm embrace of Childe that made those worries melt. You felt so… so.. desirable. You knew alot of your male peers sought after you romantically but you had no idea he was so desperate just to be with you, who wouldn’t be flattered to be so utterly wanted.

“My my, I didn’t think you would be this easy to wind up girlie, I thought you would have alot more fight in you but aside from your mouth you’re practically just begging for me. I can just tell you’re enjoying this. So why don’t you cut the talk, just let me spoil you for today hm? I’ll forgive you then for forgetting our picnic?” Childe’s hands ran up your curves leaving you to hiss in shock. His pelvis pressed oh so tightly as he pinned you to the locker infront of you.

“You..you’re really not giving up are you?” You turned your head around to weakly scowl at the smug ginger. Which he then proceeded to take the opportunity to kiss you on the lips, the last of your resistance practically melted then, worst case scenario the bell goes off and he HAS to leave then surely. He couldn’t be that dense as to continue past lunch surely! You hear his muffled chuckles as he deepened the kiss and tighten his grip on your waist. His other hand slamming against the locker keeping you from sliding out. You couldn’t help but just wrap your hands around his neck which caused him to jolt in surprise. He pulled away briefly just to look into your embarrassed face.

“I didn’t think you were that touch-starved! Don’t tell me those first years don’t know a thing or two about romance! You devote so much to them and they dont even know how to hold you right?”He laughed. You scowled.

“I-i don’t see them that way! Besides I just like taking care of people its just… I haven’t.. really.. had the chance to… be taken care of like this…you’re.. fuck just shut up and kiss me or I’ll find someone else to!” You practically dragged him back into the kiss much to his delight. He eagerly continued with the session as you let him devour you. However he pulled away a bit too soon for your liking.

“You’re perfect for me you know? Every little thing about you just enamors me sometimes. I know you feel the same too, I can tell you want this, you want me to pick you up in my arms and take you away from all thi-MPHHHff.” You pulled him by his tie back into the kiss. You didn’t have the patience to listen to his rambles. You’ve been deprived of affection for so long and if Childe was going to bother you then you might as well drain him for all he’s got to offer right? At least he seemed all the more willing. He pressed himself so tightly against you that you were convinced he was trying to absorb you. Your hands wrapped around his neck. It felt so… so

RING!!!!!!! Snapping you out of your touch starved craze was the lunch bell signaling the end of lunch and your little.. session with Childe. Catching Childe off guard, you pushed him off finally separating yourself from him as you got your lunch box and ran off to give it to Bennett. Leaving Childe a sweaty and riled up mess. Leaning against the opposite locker he grinned like a cheshire cat.

After dropping your lunch off to Bennett who luckily did not recognize your scarf, you raced to your class and made it just in time. You very shamefully sat down in your seat knowing at least a good chunk of the people here recognized who’s scarf you were wearing, but it was better than them seeing that bruise he left. You could practically feel Scaramouche’s gaze burrowing a hole in your head. You only hoped this class would be over before he decided to strangle you with the darn scarf.

[crzyimp]

The Puppet

Cw: Cannibalism, gore, body horror, non consent touches, Dehumanizing

There is no comfort in this fic and dead dove do not eat. This is horror and dark.

Author note: I was inspired by @digitaldoeslmk au and their Macaque. And thank you Pardal for encouraging me to keep writing. There will be more stories to come with this character and their role in Pardal's au. Oh, and minors please don't read this, its not safe. Enjoy :3

The shadows wrapped around their joints, forcing them to move like a puppet on strings. They wince as they struggle against tendrils. Laughter erupts as the puppet master and spectators watch on, the shadowy tendrils coiling tighter and tighter. “What was your name again?” the puppeteer, the one controlling the shadows, and the one and only six ear Macaque ask. “Actually, it doesn’t matter now. Your new name is Puppet. An object for my enjoyment and whatever role I see fit for my shows.” He smiles as they helplessly struggle against his hold. Bending a finger, he watches as they bend backwards with a groan.  Just enough pain to course through without breaking.

The person now dubbed Puppet is watched by his spectators in awe, some with glee, but most with fear as they collapse onto the floor like their namesake when the strings are cut off. Macaque steps forward at Puppet’s feet, crouching and resting his head in one hand. “Shame you’re just average, but eh, you’ll make an okay vessel for one of these spirits.” Cocking a thumb behind his shoulder, he gives one look over at the human before standing back up.

The shadows swirl around him as the room darkens, the spectators, his followers, back away in fear. His once bandaged and mangle form twist into some large. Large enough to the point, he’s crouching with one hand on the ceiling and the other reaching forward at the body as a dark mass. The shadows reaching out to sap any life in reach. Those some of his follows avoid them as the ritual starts while others were, less unfortunate.

 The spirits, the demons without bodies, inch closer, each one ready to jump into the puppet’s body. They watch as his hand finally laid on top of puppet, pressing down on it and leaning forward. Macaque and the shadows diving into the its body through it, the opening the spirits were waiting for. All rush to be the first one to possess the body.

He ascend from the floor to stand once more at the puppet’s feet.  Its spirit weaken enough for one demon of his horde to take control. However, he stands there waiting. Waiting long enough with one foot tapping. He doesn’t need a repeat of a White Bone Demon incident happening again. He doesn’t have time or patience for that. Finally the body stirring and twitching to life. Subtle relief washes over him and his creaky body relaxes.

“Finally awake, now bow and state your name and allegiance to me.” Waving one hand at them while the other cover his yawn. Along with his half expose mouth, a bit of drool dripping on whoever inhabiting this body. The person in the puppet’s body looks up at him, eye widening and scuttling away from him. That wasn’t right, so it is another incident again. He sighs. “Come on,” he walks over and grabs the puppet’s ankle from moving any further. “I don’t have all day for this. Now give up and let one of these fellas take your body.” 

Macaque doesn’t wait for a response nor was he asking, instead he repeats the ritual again. Again and again and again, no one looking back at him, but the human. Only this average, weakling of a human. The sheer audacity of it to make him work for what he wants. How on earth haven’t any of the demons taken over?  He swore they were fighting to gain dominance. Either the demons are weaker than he thought or-

Oh, that’s the reason he realizes. He should have noticed it for the first time. Feeling his magic less strain and this rotting corpse of a body faring better than he had in weeks. This human life force is vast compared to all the others he fed on. If he had to compare it, it was like drinking water; a normal human’s was just a cup, but this one? It was like trying to drink the ocean through a straw. A toothy smile spreads wide on his mouth, oh he can’t believe how lucky he is. To find such a goldmine!

However, as his purple eyes rake at their form. Soft body and weak, it’s going to be work to mold them into his image.

Grabbing their head, Macaque digs his nails enough to draw blood. His teeth and fangs were on full display and in their face. Bits of his flesh and blood splatter on it cheeks. The revolting smell of meat left in the sun overwhelming enough to make it gag. “Congratulations Puppet! You get to live and keep this pathetic excuse of a body!”  

Their hands, so warm and soft, holding his wrist either to escape his hold or to give their head alleviated relief from the throbbing the pain. His new toy, his puppet breathing rapidly; its fingers digging into him and his digging further into it. Its body jolting at his voice and rotting breath fanning across its face. “We’re going to have so much fun together, you and I.” He hums with a closed smile, moving away from Puppet’s face. 

They hope that death comes quick and end this nightmare before whatever ‘fun’ Macaque has in mind.

~~

It never did, or that death forgot them somehow. One of the first of many things Macaque does once he squirrels them away was to shave their hair. Their once beauty brown curls, shaved as they stare at their reflection in the mirror. Stating that objects like them don’t need hair like him. With a sickening sweet tone. Then it was the way he refers to them. No, he didn’t refer to them as they, or she, or even he, but it; Macaque would even go further and make everyone refer to Puppet as it. Drilling in that they are just a puppet. Puppet, a name force on them and everyone around the mansion is content with that. He would never use their real name, even when they lashed out and scream it at the top of their lungs. That always results in punishments or training.

They despise the punishments and the training, but in their eye; it was the same. The only actual difference is that there is an audience. He always uses them as examples to keep everyone else in place, whatever mistake they made. He loves making a show how far he’ll push their body. Limbs torn off through brute force or slice. The training halls forever stained with their blood and the healers always on standby. At least they learned how to hold a sword properly during those times. Puppet gently brushes their bandaged up arm, feeling the indent as fingers brush by. Alone in their room and their thoughts.

 They recall the events that lead to that; them laying on the floor in a pool of their blood and him standing over them, bored after hours’ worth of sparring. They remember how he then smiled with his teeth, teeth that had previously bitten into their arm. Their own flesh torn off and now in his stomach. His tongue cleaning his partial lips and drool. “I think it’s time to give yo-“

The door slams open, ripping them away from memory lane. They hastily pull themselves off of the ground, leaning on the wall for support. Watching Macaque walk into the room with a plate of cooked meat. He stands in the middle of the room and holds out the plate to them. “Got you a little something.” They eye the plate suspiciously. “It’s not poisoned this time, I promised. This is actually going to help you, maybe make you brand new.” He gestures to their, broken, improperly healed body. “Now come on, eat it.” He takes a step forward and they press themselves against the wall.

“Puppet…” Golden eyes with a glint of purple narrowing at them, they quietly shake their head at him. Shame for Macaque after all these years that some part of Puppet is still defiant. He watches them huddle in their corner, watching him and the plate warily. He sighs and waves his free hand for a shadowy pedestal rise beside him and gently place the plate down on it. “Alright, open your mouth.” He breathes through his nose, a horrible whistling sound, and steps in to invade their space.

Their head slamming Into the wall, feeling warm and wet blood trickling down their neck before he leans into the kiss. Daze and reeling with fear, their mouth stays tightly shut. It didn’t stop him when their lips connect, or when his teeth grazed against them before holding their head and taking a bite. Searing pain as they struggle to push and claw him away. His cold body stealing their warmth and flesh. Macaque chewing audibly loud, pieces of what it once was, their lips with blood smeared over his mouth. “Better open that mouth unless you want to lose your teeth and tongue too.” The pedestal moves towards the two mingled bodies. He takes the meat calmly and chews it.

They thrash against him like a cornered animal, but it does nothing as the familiar tendrils hold their arms in place. Still the lash out of what’s to come, tears streaming down their face. Macaque, chewing carefully and purple hues glaring at them, his fingers digs into the gap of their mouth. Ignoring their screams and their teeth biting down on him; a warm tongue pushing against his fingers. Slowly, his fingers pry their mouth  open to him. 

Filling the whatever gap between them, Macaque presses his body against them  with a thud as their open mouth kiss again. One hand to keep them in place and the other to keep their jaw from biting down. They grunt and jerk as he uses his tongue to shove the meat into their mouth. The surprise giving him ample time to push it further in. He watches as they close their eyes and their body involuntarily swallow the meat down. 

He ends the kiss and leans his head away. “There! See, not poisoned like I said.” Moving the hand from their jaw to rest on their neck, now smeared with blood. “So, what do you think of the taste? Kinda like pork, right?” He waits patiently now, watching Puppet’s face form of surprise, to shock, and finally to horror. He couldn’t help but smile at them. “How’s the taste of Sun Wukong’s successor? Flavorful right? Come on Puppet, don’t disassociate on me. I wanna know what you think!”

They should be used to knowing the meat is coming from humans. They been forced and starved enough to eat it. But this, this was Sun Wukong’s successor. Whatever hope or redemption they thought they had was gone. There is no way they can be worth saving or asking for forgiveness. Not from this, not from eating a *Bodhisattva’s heir. The great sage’s next in line sucessor and reading the books already shows what happens when someone pisses that guy off. A limb shifts, reminding them that their and Macaque’s bodies are pressing uncomfortably together. He wanted an answer, they need to say something before they make things worse. Again. “I-“

They never got to finish their word, as Macaque uses both his mouth and hands to keep his promise. Ripping their tongue out with his mouth and yanking their teeth one by one. Pausing between each pull and making sure Puppet was conscious for each and every one.

He steps back, his hands on their shoulders as he admires his handy work. Mouth expose with missing lips, teeth, and tongue possibly choking on their own blood. He smiles and nod to himself. “Ah, if only you listened to me. None of this would have happen, but I am a man who keeps his word.” He watches as they struggle to breathe through the pain, eyes glazing and unfocused, but just to stop themselves from blacking out. For only a moment.

Then, finally, their body slumps and fall into his chest. Macaque sighs irritability, feeling his clothes soaking up the blood. Strong arms scooping his puppet’s body up and half drags them to the bed. Purple eyes boring into the body before ordering, “I expect you to be present once you wake up.” Wiping some of the blood off his mouth and clothes with his hands; and then wiping his hands clean via through Puppet’s clothes. He leaves them without a second glance with a satisfied smile.

~~

Soreness woke Puppet up, their back and neck stiff from the same position for who knows how long. Slowly using their arms to lifts them off the bed. A hand running over their face absentmindedly, fingers brushing over their dry crack lips. Their tongue moving past the teeth to wet their lips. Something doesn’t feel right, but can’t pinpoint it. It feels less cold in here too. They look about the room as they lay there.

Everything looks the same, besides the blood on the walls and floor in the corner. That wasn’t always there was it? Puppet jerks themselves to sit, muscles burning and pain waking them up faster. They stare at that spot, trying and willing to bring the memories to the forefront, but nothing. Blank. Nothing. Deep breath and exhaling through the nostrils, Puppet push themselves off the bed. Marching towards the door and grabbing their curved blade along the way. Their body felt wrong, they know it and the only one who’ll know what happened will be the one person they never want to ask. The halls echo when the door slammed against the walls and Puppet moving with intent, searching for Macaque.

Not in his usual spots in the vast manor and no one in sight to give his whereabouts, either. Their lips curl and their eyes narrow as they continue the search. Passing rooms and closed doors. Hand twitching and resting on the hilt, their mind trying and failing to recall what transpires. “Hey you! Yea, you new guy! Get over here!” Footsteps approaching from behind them. Though they kept moving, most avoid them and for good reason. The voice didn’t belong to anyone they know. It must be another recruit Macaque gets monthly. A hand grabs their shoulder and spins them around to face whoever.

A tiger demon tower over them wearing the same standard uniform as them. “I can’t believe you missed orientation! Come here, you’re going to the discipline room with me.” Puppet’s bare feet press firmly on to the ground when claws dig into their shoulders and try to drag them away. They don’t have time for this, especially with some newbie trying to act like their senior.  Either this tiger didn’t get the memo of what their capable of or really wanting to be a set of new clothes.

“Do you know who I am?” Puppet spoke lowly, their eyes staring up at the towering figure. Fingers flexing over the hilt it’s resting on. If it was when Puppet first arrived, they would’ve been terrified at the sight before them. Now though? This wasn’t even close compare to what Macaque puts them through daily over the years they spent with him.

The tiger snarl and bare his fangs at them before speaking, “Cocky shit, just cause you’re a monkey like the boss and that brat doesn’t mean shit. Stupid bastards like you need to learn your place here.” Puppet’s tense at that. Did he just refer them as a monkey?! That can’t be right, they’re human how-wait.

Now they remember. 

“Ah, there you are, puppet. I thought you were awake when I heard you.” Another voice spoke, one that cause both Puppet and the tiger to tense. The hall darkens and the tiger quickly kneels and his eyes on the ground. Shaking. A hand  extends cupping their face from behind, they see the tiger quivering in his spot. “Come on, Puppet, turn around and let me see you.” The tips of skeletal fingers pressing into their skin. A shiver runs down their spine. They obey obediently, feeling glowing eyes drinking in their discomfort as they turn. Macaque smiles at them admiringly.

Macaque whistles and says, “My, my, my, you look just like *him. I guess I’ll it slide you were out for an entire month.” Wait, they’ve been sleeping for an entire month?! “And look! Your brand new like I said. A brand new huma-ahem sorry, a brand new monkey. Oh puppet, you don’t know how happy I am. How many steps I can skip now for your opening act!” Puppet stood there frozen, their heartbeat drowning out his rambling. Feeling their hair, no, their fur standing on ends and everything is spinning. They hope this is all a nightmare and they’ll wake up; alone in their room with missing lips, tongue, and teeth. It would be better than this reality.

A squeeze on their shoulder reminds them that this is real. Oh, gods, it’s real and- “Puppet.”-what have they done in their past life to deserve this- “PUP-pet.”-oh Buddha plea- “Puppet.” Macaque is in their face with delight. Their eyes staring back at his and gasp at his eyes reflection.

[hedwig221b]

Mountain to Hide Behind

Dearest anon, I bestow upon thee a prompt fill. (whacks you on the head with it)

ao3

Stiles was going to be the best parent that ever parented. Any other option was out of question. The end.

He had swept all of Derek’s boring business books from the front of the shelves, replacing them with baby books. The baby wasn’t even here yet, but he already had his schedule figured out. Stiles was the master at swaddling and changing diapers, had a content of ingredients for a perfect baby formula fucking memorized.

So, safe to say, he wasn’t quite yet ready to deal with heartbroken teenagers.

He thought he had time! Then Cora’s boyfriend decided to downgrade to an ex and here they were.

Stiles was standing in the doorway of their guest room and wringing his hands for a few minutes, before finally taking in a deep breath and opening the door.

“Cora, sweetheart,” Stiles forced out a smile. “The lunch is ready, darling.”

The she-wolf took out one headphone and turned to glare at him in a scary imitation of her brother.

“Fuck off,” she muttered and turned away again to lie down on the bed.

Okay, then.

Eli kicked him in the stomach in the show of silent support. Stiles caressed his round stomach and went (he wasn’t waddling, it was too early yet, shut up!) to the kitchen to eat his pasta alone.

*

Cora stomped downstairs right in time for dinner, though. Stiles highly suspected it was because she heard Derek’s car getting closer. At least now she was going to eat. What would Talia say if she heard he was starving her precious baby? No, ma’am.

The girl slumped down on her seat and started scraping a fork through the contents of her plate with the grumpiest expression. Was something wrong with food?

“Stiles?”

The voice brought a beaming smile to Stiles’ face. Problems? What problems? His mate was here, therefore nothing mattered.

He lifted himself up from the chair and went to greet his husband, who was already smiling at him in return.

Derek dropped his suitcase, took off his tie and cupped Stiles’ face with his big hands.

“Hi, baby,” he muttered into his lips and kissed him.

After so many years of dating and then being married, Stiles found that the whole ‘the spark is gonna die out’ thing was utter bullshit. Like, how on Earth was he supposed to not want to drop to his knees when faced with this absolute hunk of his husband? Stiles could swear on his life he was falling more and more in love with Derek since he became pregnant. He was ready to build a shrine to his mate, he was so motherfucking sexy and so handsome and so caring. Stiles was obsessed, to a scary degree.

He moaned into the kiss, winding his hands around Derek’s muscular shoulders for support. Mmm, so tall, so big, so handsome.

“Missed you,” Stiles murmured, pressing another kiss to his stubble-covered cheek.

Derek chuckled. His eyes were soft. “Missed you, too.” He then put a hand on Stiles’ stomach and snorted a laugh at being immediately kicked. “Hello to you, too, love.”

“I’m telling you, he knows when you’re coming home,” Stiles remarked, leaning his weight on the alpha, as the man put arms around him. “He’s a little alarm clock.”

“And a soccer player, and a kickboxer, and a—“

“A wonder! He’s a wonderful boy of an amazing father who’d better hurry and wash his hands or his dinner will get cold.”

Derek smirked at him. “As you wish, sweetheart,” he said and sneaked a gentle bite on Stiles’ jaw, before immediately jumping away from Stiles’ hand and disappearing down the hall.

Stiles bit his lip, stretched wide in a smile. He was so incredibly silly, just ughh!

His good spirit, however, dwindled a bit after a murderous glare that Cora gave him upon entering the kitchen. Seriously, what was going on? They weren’t inappropriate and it wasn’t like they’ve left her alone for that long…

During the dinner Cora stayed silent, having only muttered a ‘hi’ to her brother. Derek, who grew up with two sisters, was used to this kind of behavior, so he just ignored it. Which, rude! The girl needed support! Maybe not Stiles’, based on her glares, but someone’s!

Feeling Derek’s eyes upon him, Stiles looked up and instantly felt himself blush from his mate’s half-lidded look.

“What?” Stiles smiled.

Derek shrugged. “Just wondering how do you get prettier each time I see you.”

Oh, my GOD.

The thing about Derek, one of many that made Stiles lose his mind, is that he was an insane flirt. Was, during their dating period, then smoothly carried it over to their married life. Honestly, who needs the blood of a hundred virgins — Derek’s compliments made Stiles feel ten years younger.

Stiles beamed at him. “You’re so nice to me.”

“Just being honest.”

A fork clung against the plate with an awful loud sound.

“Is this how it is going to be with you two?” Cora grumbled, grabbed her plate and shoved it inside the sink.

“You mean, with me and my mate?” Derek lifted an eyebrow.

Cora threw a sour look at him, pursed her nose, then went back upstairs. Her door shut with a frustrating thud.

Derek and Stiles looked at each other in an unspoken solidarity, before the alpha sighed.

“Come here,” he spread his arms.

As if Stiles needed to be asked twice. He dove right into his lap and for the warm embrace, pressing his stomach to Derek’s front. It wasn’t long before Eli realized there were hugs going on and started drumming on Stiles’ insides with his feet.

It took one wince from Stiles for Derek to put his hand against his stomach and pull out the pain.

“I love you,” Stiles sighed, laying his head on his husband’s shoulder.

“Love you, too.”

*

New day, new try!

“Cora, darling, do you want to watch ‘Moana’ with me?”

“No, I don’t. Fuck you and your stupid cartoons.”

… Alright.

Was he really the same as a teenager? Stiles shoved another handful of popcorn into his mouth. Surely, he wasn’t that bad. There was one time when he and Scott sneaked out to the forest to have a drink over Scott’s broken heart. Very dangerous and irresponsible.

So, yeah, it was for the best that Cora was staying here and not vomiting her guts out in the forest.

Stiles could handle some misplaced teenage angst. He could! He was an adult. An adult who would soon have his own child.

Oh, god.

Great, now his eyes were burning. Stiles sniffled and picked up another popcorn, glancing down at his stomach. He wasn’t even that huge yet, but the feeling of being a beached whale was creeping up on him with a concerning speed.

But that wasn’t the reason for his sudden mood change. He just realized how much he wanted to watch cartoons with his kid. To have him sit on his lap, to munch on the popcorn together, laughing and singing songs. Stiles sniffled again.

And he wanted Cora to be better! And not snap at him.

*

Unfortunately, Derek’s strategy of ‘leave her alone and she’ll come around’ wasn’t working. Well, for Derek it might have been wonderful, but not for Stiles, who was locked inside with the girl for days.

She refused to eat lunch with him, which only made Stiles worry more; she snapped at him constantly and was downright rude sometimes. And, while Stiles grit his teeth and reminded himself that she was just a hormonal teenage werewolf going through some hard times, he was also a hormonal, albeit human man, with a freaking baby inside him.

His temper wasn’t as steel as it was before. If it ever was, at all…

Stiles tried to remember that Cora probably didn’t mean what she said, but… Sometimes, it felt like she did.

“You look huge.”

Stiles frowned at his own reflection, where he was trying on new pants.

“Well, I am pregnant, so…”

“So? You still look huge.” Cora rolled her eyes.

Stiles’ eyes fell down without a thought from him. He smoothed a hand down the round top.

“It happens sometimes,” he argued weakly. “It will pass. Besides, I don’t care.”

“I bet Derek does.”

Stiles’ heart missed a beat.

He knew, he knew for a fact, that Derek still found him desirable. The pregnancy didn’t drop their libido, but instead made it fucking sky-high. They had an extremely active sex life, thank you very much; Derek was an attentive partner, always gentle with him, but no less hungry. One time Stiles actually caught him drooling at the sight of him, walking naked and rubbing his belly after a shower on one particularly hot day. And the wolf hadn’t even denied it, instead lifted his eyebrow like ‘yes the sight of you makes me extremely horny, are we going to do something about it or what?’.

So the notion that Derek somehow cared about the weight he gained was completely ridiculous. Completely. Ab-absolutely. Yeah.

Stiles looked down again.

“Have you seen people he works with?” Cora continued, appearing not interested and scrolling through her phone. “Like, Erica and Isaac? He got an entire building with people looking like them. And then he comes home to this—“ she lifted her eyebrows and shook her head.

“I don’t know what you’re implying, Cora,” Stiles started throwing the clothes he pulled out for a try-on back into the closet. “We are mates. He loves me. End of story.”

“Sure. Whatever you say.”

Stiles tried to swallow a lodge in his throat; once the grain was planted in his mind, he knew he would obsess over it to the very end.

“He’s allowed to look, though,” Cora added as if in an afterthought, before huffing at the mess he made.

“He is,” Stiles bit out, left everything as it was and stormed out of the room.

*

Derek was late.

Between Eli kicking up a storm and Cora’s meaningful smug glances, Stiles was going mad. Yes, definitely mad and not close to tears.

He ate half of his own usual portion, before putting the rest in the containers and retreating to his and Derek’s bedroom for the remainder of the evening.

*

“What are you doing?”

“Sniffing your shirt, what does it look like I’m doing?”

Derek snorted and walked over to him, slid hands over his stomach and snatched the shirt from his hands. The wolf brought it to his face and sniffed.

“It’s a fresh one, love.”

Stiles just sighed. Did he really become one of those spouses that suspects their significant other at every turn? It was humiliating a little, but the worry was brewing in his mind and heart, buzzing around like a bunch of angry wasps.

“If you’re so worried that I’m stinky, don’t refuse to shower with me next time.” Derek smacked a kiss on Stiles’ bared neck, then quickly got distracted and started trailing kisses down the neck, pressing Stiles’ ass back to himself.

Stiles closed his eyes and bit his lips. “You’re gonna be… mmmhm… late.”

“I don’t want to go to work,” Derek grunted, sucking a mark on his shoulder, lapping at it with his tongue. “You are here, so delicious and fucking glowing. Want to stay home and fuck you.”

This high libido of his may have started because of the pregnancy of his mate, but if it was that strong, who’s to say he wasn’t getting rid of it during the day? Stiles knew how others looked at his husband — the same way he did, but what if…

‘He’s allowed to look, though.’

… what if he looked back?

Stiles swallowed and squeezed his eyes shut, begging for the images of his traitorous mind to disappear.

“I love you,” he whispered.

“Love you, too.”

*

Derek was late for another few days after that.

Stiles tried to keep his head up high, mostly not to agitate Eli, who was getting angry at not receiving hugs from his father at appropriate times. But staying at home with Cora, whose jabs were getting more and more painful with each passing day, was even worse.

Thus, Stiles began to go for walks. For as long, as his feet and bladder would allow; he walked, lost in thoughts.

Derek’s behavior wasn’t really any different, if one didn’t count him being late every day. His kisses were still passionate, hugs tight, caresses gentle and loving. Maybe it was all in Stiles’ head.

But why wasn’t Derek telling him why he was late and acted like it was normal?

Coming back to the house with a heavy heart, Stiles didn’t expect to be faced with a wide-eyed and fuming Derek.

He didn’t even get to walk through the door like usual, before getting snatched off the street back into the house and patted down with shaking hands.

“Where the fuck were you?” Derek growled, looking carefully at every inch of Stiles. “Why didn’t you take your phone with you? Why did you go out alone, for fuck’s sake, Stiles…”

One thing Stiles could not handle was negativity, not from Derek and not now.

Derek’s face paled at the sight of moisture gathering in Stiles’ eyes. The man grabbed his face and flashed his eyes at him.

“What happened? Did someone do something? Stiles, baby, answer me, I’m going to fucking kill anyone who—“

“Start with yourself, maybe.”

Stiles’ breath hitched.

Both of them turned to look at Cora, who tried to look nonchalant, while leaning on the handrails. She had her lips pursed and lifted one very judgmental brow at her brother.

“What?” Derek blinked at her, confused.

“What I said,” she sneered. “Did you honestly think he wouldn’t notice your absence? He can’t even stomach his dinner, because he knows you’re busy fucking side-chicks as he does so.”

A stunned silence filled the room.

Right then, faced with the sentence he was too scared to even think of, Stiles couldn’t take it anymore. At his first mortifying quiet sniff, Derek swerved around too look at him.

He looked horrified.

“Baby,” he said with desperate softness, “you… you know this is bullshit, right?”

Unable to look him in the eyes, Stiles lowered his gaze down on his chest and tried his hardest not to cry. He stayed silent, because what could he possibly say? That his mind was already plagued with scenarios of Derek leaving him? Because what would become of him then?

Derek raked a hand through his hair and turned to his sister, who watched both of them with her head pointed high. The wolf’s eyes flashed red, fangs glistened in the warm lighting of the hall.

“What the fuck have you been saying to him?” he growled.

“What you don’t have the balls to!” Cora shouted, making Stiles flinch. “All of you are the same! It’s ‘forever’ and it’s ‘I love you’ until the first flipped skirt—“

And then Derek roared, walking over to her. “I’m not the same as your dumb fucking boyfriends, Cora! I’m married to him, we’re fucking mates, for fuck’s sake! Are you insane? We’re having a child together, not an English lesson!”

“Fucking whatever,” her voice trembled as she looked to the side.

“It’s not ‘whatever’. He is not allowed to be stressed! At all! That’s why I was fucking late — I’m passing the business over to Peter to be able to stay at home with Stiles for the next months.”

Oh. Oh, Derek.

The wolf cursed and rubbed his eyes, then flashed them at his sister. “Go to your room, I’ll talk to you in the morning.”

Cora’s eyes filled with angry tears. Without any further words, she turned around, went to her room and slammed the door shut.

Stiles didn’t dare to look at him. A myriad of conflicting feelings tore his heart apart, most present of them guilt and misery.

“Kitten.”

Big arms wound themselves around Stiles, pressing him close to a hot body. Stiles tucked his face into Derek’s neck and sobbed.

“I’m sorry—”

“Baby, it’s okay.”

“But, like, how could I think—“

“Shh, none of this is your fault,” Derek kissed his temple and sighed against it, stroking the back of his head. “It’s all on me. I’m so fucking stupid. I wanted to make a surprise for you, I know how you want me home, but never say anything.”

In the safety of his protective embrace, swaddled up in the loving warmth of his words, Stiles began to calm down. Derek always had this effect on him. This man was his anchor, his mountain to hide behind when the storms are raging on.

Derek leaned in to whisper into his ear.

“You know, you are the only thing on my mind. And I mean it literally. There’s nothing in there, besides your angel face. Every time I walk outside to go to work, it takes every bit of my control not to turn back. Erica fucking hates me now, because Boyd got a baby fever because I don’t shut up about you and our plans for the kid.” He chuckled, making Stiles sigh and shiver from the heat of his breath. “You know what else I do? I sit at meetings and just look at the clock and count down the minutes before I could go home. Why do you think Peter is so eager to take over? I’m useless to them. I can’t think of anything else, other than you.”

“Derek,” Stiles whined, feeling relief in his heart and blush on his cheeks.

They fell into each other, with sighs and desperation, to seal the certainty on their hearts. Derek’s kiss was as demanding as it was giving, with his hands still trembling on Stiles’ sides.

“I love you.”

“Love you, too.”

And, of course, their kid chose this moment to gently kick at Derek through Stiles’ stomach, as if saying ‘Are you two idiot parents of mine done? I need my hugs.’

They separated and laughed quietly, swaying in each other’s embrace.

*

“Cora, sweetie.”

“… What.”

Finally.

“Can you tell me what that was?”

The poor girl threw herself off the bed, with her hair crazy and bags under the eyes.

“What that was?! I’m tired of looking at the two of you! ‘Stiles this’ and ‘Derek that’, you’re disgusting! I get it, you’re happy and in love, and it’s never fucking like that in my life, so stop shoving it in my face! How are you not sick of each other?”

Stiles watched her pace around the room, as the realization dawned on him.

Fucking Hales.

“Because we love each other.” When Cora huffed and rolled her eyes, Stiles continued, not allowing her to interrupt. “It’s real and it’s not going anywhere.” He put a hand on his belly. “And that’s it. No drama, no bad feelings. We have an entire happy ending to live through.”

After letting the thought brew in her mind for a few minutes, Stiles patted the seat next to himself and Cora, to his surprise, obediently sat down.

“Why can’t I have what you have?” she said barely above whisper, not looking at him.

“Child, please,” Stiles poked her in the arm and smirked. “My life consists of trips to the bathroom and weird food cravings at two a.m.. It’s not fun. Yes, it’s amazing and it’s a miracle, but fun it is not. Live some life. Experiment. True love will come and whack you on the head and then you’ll be like me and Derek, stupidly in love. Speaking of life, have you ever kissed a girl?”

Cora spluttered and went completely red in the face, looking a little too wide-eyed.

“Stiles!”

“Did you like it?” Stiles grinned.

“Oh, god…”

“Uh-huh.” Stiles bit his lip to stop the ‘mad evil scientist’ laugh from escaping, before clapping Cora on the shoulder. “Now, bring me the laptop, we’re going to ruin your ex’s life.”

[hookedonapirate]

I’ll Wait a Lifetime or Two

Summary:

At forty, Emma Swan is living her best life. She's happily single and owns a thriving art gallery with her best friend Elsa. And of course, there's the love of her life, her teenage son, Henry.

Since the divorce three years ago, her carefully curated life has been quiet, peaceful, ordinary. She couldn't ask for anything more. So why does the one guy she ends up falling for have to be the rockstar her son has a poster of on his bedroom wall, whose life is nothing short of extraordinary?

The Idea of You AU

Rated: M

AO3

Ch 1 Ch 2 Ch 3 Ch 4 Ch 5

CHAPTER FIVE

"Morning, Em.” Elsa’s voice echoes through the airy gallery as I step into work.

“Morning, Els.” Before I can even make it to my office to deposit my purse, Elsa swoops in, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. “All right, spill, already.”

“Spill what?”

“You know what.”

I continue to feign cluelessness, causing Elsa to sigh. 

“The deets about Mr. Rockstar.”

“Who, Killian?” I try to keep my tone light and nonchalant, averting my eyes to evade the impending interrogation. “There’s really nothing noteworthy to share. It was just business.”

She observes me with an arched eyebrow.

Ruby, who’s arranging a new display nearby, chimes in with a mischievous grin. “It didn’t seem like just business to me. The sparks between you two were probably visible from space.”

Rolling my eyes in mock exasperation, I scoff, hoping to downplay the significance of our encounter. “It was all just professional curiosity. You know how these musicians can be—always networking.” 

“Networking? He bought out the entire gallery,” Elsa reminds me.

“It was nothing.” Ignoring the heat rising in my cheeks, I deposit my purse on my desk and make a beeline for the kitchenette. I need coffee—desperately.

Elsa follows me, relentless in her pursuit of details. “Come on, I’m dying here,” she presses, leaning against the doorway as I pour myself a cup.

“There’s really nothing to tell,” I insist, stirring sugar into my coffee and turning around. “He was interested in art. That’s all.”

She raises an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. “Sure, just interested in the art,” she repeats with air quotes and a smirk.

I sigh, knowing there’s no escaping this. “It was a good sale for the gallery, okay? Let’s just be happy about that.”

She doesn’t drop it, but I need a change of subject. I hate lying to her, but even if I told her I had Killian over for lunch, kissed the hell out of him and kicked him out, it wouldn’t matter, because I’ll never see him again. 

After realizing I wasn’t interested in continuing whatever it is we started, he probably moved on with some other woman who is much younger and more beautiful. I wouldn’t blame him. He could literally have any straight woman on the planet, so why on earth would he choose me?

I take a deep breath, the memory of that kiss still fresh in my mind. It lingers like the ghost of his lips on mine. His hands on my skin.

I close my eyes as if I could shut away the thoughts. It was just a kiss. One spontaneous, reckless kiss that means nothing. Well, actually it was two or maybe three kisses. The flutter in my stomach betrays me, however, mocking my attempts at denial.

But maybe meeting someone else will help me forget about him.

Ha! Like that could ever happen.

“By the way, what about that guy you wanted to set me up with? Walsh, right?”

Her eyes light up. “Yes, Walsh. He owns that cute furniture shop on Sunset Boulevard.”

As I sip my coffee, trying to listen to Elsa, my mind betrays me, wandering back to yesterday. Killian’s lips, his touch, the little noises he made as we kissed, his ragged breaths, his low groans are still implanted in my head. I can still feel his hands on my skin, taste his lips, smell his cologne. The memory sends a shiver down my spine.

“Em?” Elsa’s voice cuts through my thoughts like a well-sharpened blade, jolting me back to the present.

I look over at her and blink. “Sorry?”

“A date with Walsh? Are you up for it?”

“Uh, sure, I’ll go.”

“Great! I’ll set it up,” Elsa beams.

With the immediate interrogation dodged, I take a moment to savor my coffee and return to the front of the gallery, trying to push thoughts of Killian and the kiss from my mind.

“So, what are we going to do about the empty walls?” Elsa asks, gesturing around, her eyes dancing with amusement. “Killian’s visit sparked a whole bunch of curiosity yesterday. People have been calling and coming in, wanting to check out the art…which we currently don’t have.”

Ruby glances up from her work. “We should have new pieces arriving by the end of the week.”

“In the meantime, we can showcase some of our private collection and maybe do a feature on upcoming artists,” I add.

Elsa nods in agreement. “Sounds like a plan.”

~*~

I stand in front of the mirror, holding up a delicate black dress, my stomach full of knots. I turn around, seeking a second opinion. “What do you think about this one?” I ask Henry, who’s lounging on my bed, scrolling through his phone.

He glances up briefly, narrowing his eyes, before reverting his gaze to his screen. “It’s nice…”

“Really?”

“Yeah, if you’re going to a funeral.”

I roll my eyes but can’t help but smile at his blunt honesty. I turn the dress around and study it from Henry’s perspective. Intricate black lace adorns the fabric, the sleeves flow elegantly and it’s very modest, featuring gentle ruffles over the chest and a high collar at the neck that adds a touch of sophistication. It does look like something I would wear to a funeral.

Come to think of it—I have worn this dress to a funeral. “Alright, Mr. Fashion Critic, what do you suggest?”

He sets down his phone and gets up, rifling through my closet. After a few moments, he pulls out a red dress. “This one. It’s classy but not too serious.”

My mouth falls open as my eyes sweep over the dress I haven’t worn in years. I actually forgot it was hanging in my closet. I take the dress from him, holding it up against me in the mirror. It has a flowy, knee-length skirt and a strappy open back, adorned with a bow. The draped waist detail complements the plunging V-neck bodice beautifully. Fancy but comfortable.

I look over at him, a smile tugging at my lips. “How did you get to be so smart, kid?”

“Because I inherited my brains from you, duh.”

Now it’s my turn to narrow my eyes. “Okay, what do you want?”

His face breaks into a mischievous grin. “Can I crash at Roland’s tonight? He just got the new CyberStrike.”

“Fine, but you better be ready to go in twenty minutes.”

He cocks his brow. “Mom, we both know you take longer than that to get ready.”

I laugh and shake my head. “Just get a change of clothes around.”

After I slip into the dress and apply some red lipstick, my hair resting over my shoulders in soft waves, I turn my attention to the watch on my dresser. Killian’s watch. The memory of him leaving it behind, whether intentionally or not, sends a thrill through me.

I slip it on, the weight of it comforting in a way I can’t quite explain but, at the same time, sending butterflies in my stomach.

When I enter the living room, Henry’s ready to go, his backpack next to him on the couch as he plays on his phone again.

“Better?”

When he looks up, he gives me an approving nod and a smile. “Much better.” He stands from the couch and grabs his bag. “You look beautiful, Mom.”

“Thanks, Henry.” I give him a side hug. “What would I do without you?”

He shrugs. “Probably get sick of people coming up to you, extending their condolences for your loss.”

I roll my eyes and laugh. “Clearly, you’ve inherited your sense of humor from your father.”

He slings his bag over one shoulder, eyeing my wrist. “Nice watch.”

“Thank you, it was a birthday gift...from a friend.” God, I hate lying to Henry, especially considering Neal lied to us both while he was having a secret affair with Wendy, but how can I possibly tell him the truth?

Oh by the way, kid, I had your twenty-four-year old idol over for lunch and didn’t think to include you. Then I kissed the fuck out of him, but don’t worry, it was a one time thing. And he left his watch behind, probably hoping he’ll see me again. And I’m going on this date with another man while I’m still thinking about the rockstar.

Nope, don’t think that would go over very well.

“Ready to go to your friend’s house?” I ask, changing the subject as quickly as possible.

“So, who’s this Walsh guy again?” he asks as we head out the door.

“He’s someone Elsa set me up with. He owns a furniture shop in town,” I explain, smoothing down my dress.

Henry furrows his brows. “If he’s such a nice guy, then why didn’t he come to pick you up?”

I laugh, shaking my head. “Because I’m perfectly capable of driving myself.”

“I know you are, but I have to meet him to find out if he’s good enough for you.”

My eyes sting a little at that, a wave of emotion washing over me. I wrap my arm around his shoulders as we walk to my car. “I appreciate you wanting to look out for me, kid.”

“Just want to make sure you’re happy, Mom.”

I smile at him. “How about you meet him next time? If there is a next time.”

He grins, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Deal. Just don’t be surprised if I give him the third degree.”

I laugh. “I wouldn’t expect anything less.”

When I drop him off, Henry gives me one last piece of advice. “Have fun tonight, Mom. Don’t overthink it.”

I smile and hug him. “Thanks, kid. I’ll try.”

He gets out, and I watch him walk into his friend’s house. I take a deep breath and head to the restaurant I’m supposed to meet Walsh at, hoping the evening will be a pleasant distraction from the thoughts invading my mind of Killian and that damn kiss. Blair’s is an Italian restaurant not too far from where I live and is close to his furniture shop, so it’s a perfect meet-in-the-middle spot.

He’s already there when I arrive, standing when he sees me, a practiced smile on his face.

“Emma, hi, I’m Walsh. It’s great to meet you.” His handshake is firm, the eye contact steady.

“Nice to meet you too, Walsh.” My voice is polite, but the words feel hollow. We sit, and the small talk begins—a volley of questions and answers bouncing back and forth.

He’s nice enough—handsome, polite, and successful. Closer to my age. In fact, he might be a little older. Yet, as he goes on and on about his furniture shop, my attention keeps drifting.

“Emma?” His voice pulls me back.

“Sorry, what was that?”

“I asked if you’d like to try the wine I picked out.” He motions to the bottle chilling beside us.

“Sure,” I answer, but the taste of red on my tongue doesn’t compare to the thrill of Killian’s lips pressed against mine, the memory sending an unwelcome warmth through me.

“...and that’s when I decided to expand into custom pieces.” Walsh’s eyes light up with enthusiasm. “You wouldn’t believe the demand for handcrafted dining tables.”

I nod, forcing a smile. “That sounds...interesting.”

He continues, oblivious to my waning interest. “And then we started sourcing wood from sustainable forests. It’s been a game-changer for the business.”

I take a sip of my wine, glancing around the restaurant. Couples are laughing, waiters are bustling and there’s a general air of warmth and excitement I just don’t feel at our table. I try to engage, but there’s no connection, no chemistry. Not even the initial first date sparks.

Walsh leans forward, his eyes earnest. “What about you, Emma? What’s your favorite kind of furniture?”

I pause, searching for a polite response. “I guess I’ve never really thought about it in detail. I like pieces that are functional and comfortable.”

“Functionality is key,” he agrees, launching into another detailed explanation about ergonomic designs.

I nod along, fidgeting with my napkin, my thoughts drifting to Killian. The excitement, the thrill, the undeniable connection we shared—it’s all I can think about. Every word Walsh says just emphasizes the stark contrast between them. Which isn’t very fair to Walsh. I mean, how can you compete with Killian? You can’t.

“...and that’s why choosing the right wood is so important,” Walsh finishes, looking at me expectantly.

“Absolutely,” I reply, though I’m not entirely sure what I’m agreeing to.

He smiles, seemingly satisfied with my response, and continues talking about his latest project. I glance at my watch discreetly, wondering how much longer I need to stay. We’ve only been here for about fifteen minutes, our food hasn’t even arrived, yet it feels like we’ve been here for an eternity and a half.

Needing a break, I excuse myself and hurry to the restroom.

As I stand in front of the sink, cursing myself for agreeing to this date, my phone buzzes in my clutch purse. I fish it out, a message lighting up the screen.

+44 7779 460726: I can’t get that kiss out of my head. I need to see you again.

My heart skitters, a smile tugging at my lips. The memory of our kiss flashes vividly in my mind, sending a chill down my spine. But here I am, on a date with Walsh, who has been nothing but kind but whom I have no interest in. Guilt twists in my gut as I type back.

Me: Who’s this?

+44 7779 460726: Ha! Cold.

+44 7779 460726: I got your number from the invoice. Hope that’s okay.

I click my tongue and sigh.

Me: Have the pieces arrived yet?

+44 7779 460726: Haven’t been home yet. Hear they look great.

+44 7779 460726: Anyway, about that kiss…

I roll my eyes and throw my phone back into my clutch purse before going to a stall and using the toilet. When I come out and wash my hands, my purse buzzes again.

+44 7779 460726: I know you read my last text. 🙂

I laugh.

Me: I can’t talk right now. I’m going to bed.

+44 7779 460726: No, you’re not.

Me: How do you know?

+44 7779 460726: Because it’s only 7.

+44 7779 460726: Also, you’re not at home.

Me: And how would you know that?

+44 7779 460726: Because I checked.

Me: You stopped by my house?

+44 7779 460726: I didn’t stop, I just happened to drive by a moment ago and notice all the lights were out.

Me: Happened to stop by? Right. 🙄

+44 7779 460726: Fine, I purposely drove by your house.

+44 7779 460726: Your turn to be honest 😁

Me: Stalker

I sigh.

Me: Okay, okay, I’m on a date. Happy?

+44 7779 460726: Am I happy you’re on a date with someone who’s not me? Not in the least. You’re really twisting the knife, love.🗡️💔 

Me: Elsa set it up. I didn’t have a choice.

Okay, I did have a choice but he doesn’t have to know I only said yes to the date to forget about him .

+44 7779 460726: Are you enjoying the date?

Me: No, not really. Our food hasn’t arrived and I’m already bored to tears.

+44 7779 460726: Where are you? I’ll pick you up.

His offer hangs in the air, tempting like a decadent piece of chocolate. My heart races at the thought of leaving Walsh sitting alone, but also at the prospect of being whisked away by Killian.

I bite my bottom lip. not even believing I’m contemplating taking him up on his offer. This is ridiculous. I’m on a date with someone and actually considering ditching him for another man. But how often do I get asked out by a rockstar?

+44 7779 460726: Do I have to beg, Swan?

Me: Only if you want to…

+44 7779 460726: Will you go on a date with me? Please?🙏 🙏🙏

I can’t believe what I’m reading. Killian Jones is actually begging me to go on a date with him.

+44 7779 460726: I promise not to bore you.

I laugh. Like that could happen. I'd be entertained simply by getting lost in his eyes. I add his number to my contacts and shoot him my answer.

Me: I’m at Blair’s, 2901 Rowena Ave.

Killian: On my way.

I am so going to hell for this. For lying and ditching a perfectly nice guy for one who is almost half my age. So irresponsible.

I take a deep breath, bracing myself for the awkward conversation ahead. I clear my throat and hurry to the table where Walsh is sitting, my heart pounding in my chest. “Hey, Walsh...” My eyes are wide, feigning panic.

He looks up, concern knitting his brows. “Everything okay?”

“My son, Henry, just called. He went out to eat with some friends and got food poisoning.” I force an apologetic smile. “I have to go, I’m so sorry.”

Walsh’s face falls slightly, but he quickly masks his disappointment. “Oh no, I hope he’s alright. Do you need any help?”

“No, but thank you,” I reply, the guilt pressing down on me. “I just need to get to him as soon as possible.”

I reach into my purse and pull out some money, placing it on the table to cover my share of the food. “This should cover my part. I’m really sorry about this.”

Walsh shakes his head, waving his hand dismissively. “Don’t worry about it, Emma. Go take care of Henry. Maybe we can do this another time?”

“Yeah, maybe. Thanks for understanding.”

Without waiting for a response, I hurry out of the restaurant, my heart pounding with guilt and excitement. I step outside, the cool evening air doing little to calm my racing heart as I scan the street for Killian. I can’t help but wonder if I’m making the right choice, but the memory of our kiss and the anticipation of seeing him again push those doubts aside.

A minute later, a sleek, Audi R8 Spyder pulls up in front of me, its engine purring smoothly.

Killian rolls down the window, his million-dollar smile showing off his brilliant white teeth. “Hop in, love.”

I can’t help but smile, the thrill of seeing him again outweighing my guilt. I open the door and slide into the passenger seat, buckling my seatbelt. The smell of luxurious leather envelops me as he shifts into gear, the vehicle gliding forward with effortless power.

It’s surreal riding in a fancy car with Killian, who looks irresistible enough to eat. He’s wearing a well-fitted black leather jacket over a crisp white button-up shirt, the top few buttons casually undone. His dark jeans are perfectly tailored, accentuating his lean frame, and he’s completed the look with a pair of polished black boots. His silver chain with the skull and crossbones peeks out from beneath his shirt, and he has a few understated rings on his fingers, adding just a touch of rockstar edge to his ensemble. His hair is tousled in that perfectly messy way, and a hint of stubble lines his jaw, making me want to grab him and kiss him and finish what we’d started on Tuesday.

“Nice car.”

“Thank you, love, but I don’t actually own it. It’s a rental.” 

I raise an eyebrow, wondering if there’s anything he does actually own. The trailer, the watch I’m wearing, the car. They’re all things given to him or loaned for temporary use. “A rental, huh? I guess being a rockstar doesn’t mean you have to own all the fancy toys.”

He chuckles. “Exactly. Sometimes it’s fun to try different things without the commitment.”

I hold up my wrist, showing him the silver timepiece. “I brought you your watch.”

He looks over and smirks. “It looks much better on you, love.”

As I lower my arm and twist the watch around my wrist, staring ahead blankly, I find myself wondering if his noncommittal approach extends to women as well. My stomach churns at the thought of this being just a fleeting experience, of him moving on to the next woman after he has his fill of me. Am I just another one of his rental toys?

I softly shake my head, thinking maybe that wouldn’t be such a bad thing after all. Maybe I could take a page from his book. Maybe this is exactly what I need right now—a chance to explore, to feel something new, to have this experience without any strings attached, then return to my normal life. My normal, rockstar-free life. I deserve a little excitement, a little unpredictability. And with Killian, it feels like anything is possible.

I glance over at Killian, his profile illuminated by the city lights. He seems so at ease, so comfortable in his own skin. It’s refreshing and a little intoxicating. The pull of adventure, the lure of stepping outside my routine and embracing something exciting and different.

“You look stunning, Swan, by the way. Is that a new dress?”

Heat creeps up my cheeks and I smile back at him. “Thank you, but no, it’s not new. Henry picked it out of my closet, actually. He saved me from leaving the house looking like I was going to a funeral.”

Killian laughs, a deep, rich sound that makes my heart flutter. “Smart kid. I told you, he’s got great taste.”

“Yeah, he does. He was pretty insistent about it, too.”

“Well, I’m glad he was.” His eyes briefly flick over to me again, full of warmth. “You look perfect.”

“You don’t look so bad yourself.” I grin as I reach out, touching his arm.

“Thanks, love.” He tosses me a flirty smirk, placing his hand on my leg over my dress. The touch is very much welcome, but it makes this date all the more real. Too real.

As the car sails through the streets, my pulse quickens, a familiar knot of anxiety tightening in my chest. It dawns on me with an almost physical jolt—I’m on a date with Killian Jones. My heart races, and a cold sweat forms on my palms. This isn’t just any date. It’s a date with a celebrity, someone whose life is so far removed from my own, it feels like I’m stepping into a different world.

I glance over at Kilian, his easy confidence making me feel even more self-conscious. What if I say something stupid or do something embarrassing? What if I trip over my own feet or spill my drink all over him? My mind spins with all the possible ways I could ruin this evening. What if he sees through my insecurities and decides I’m not worth the effort?

“Emma?” Kilian’s voice cuts through my spiraling thoughts, gentle yet concerned. “Are you alright?”

I swallow hard, trying to muster a reassuring smile. “Yeah, just...a little nervous, I guess.”

He pulls the car over to the side of the road, turning to face me fully. His eyes are soft, filled with understanding. “Are you sure you want to go on this date?” he asks gently. “Just say the word and I can take you back.”

I take a shaky breath, my pulse pounding in my ears. “I want this, Killian, but it’s been so long since I’ve been on a date. And now that I am, it happens to be with one of the hottest rock stars in the world, so I’m a bit overwhelmed.”

Killian smiles softly and pulls me close, cupping my cheek in his hand. “Don’t think of me as a rockstar, love,” he murmurs, his voice low and soothing. “I’m just a guy who’s incredibly attracted to you.”

I laugh. “Easy for you to say. You don’t have a kid who has a poster of me on their bedroom wall.”

He arches a brow, his blue eyes glinting with mischief. “I wish I had a poster of you on my bedroom wall.”

I snort-laugh, playfully swatting him on the shoulder.

“Just be yourself, Emma. That’s all I want.”

His words break through the haze of panic, and I take a deep breath, trying to steady myself.

“And if it makes you feel any better,” he adds, his eyes locked on mine, “I’m just as nervous as you are.”

A smile tugs at my lips. “Yeah, that actually does make me feel better.”

He brushes a strand of hair from my face, his touch gentle and lingering. His eyes hold mine, sparkling with desire and tenderness. Without another word, he leans in, closing the distance between us, and captures my lips with his. The kiss is electric, a surge of energy that sends shivers down my spine. My heart races, and I lose myself in the sensation, the world around us fading into oblivion.

His lips are warm and soft against mine, moving with a perfect blend of urgency and restraint. As our tongues touch, the kiss deepens, igniting a fire within me. My hands instinctively find their way to his neck, fingers threading through his hair, pulling him closer.

Just as the intensity builds, Killian pulls away, his breath ragged and uneven. He rests his forehead against mine, his eyes closed for a moment as if savoring the lingering connection. When he opens them, a playful smile tugs at his lips, a mixture of satisfaction and longing.

“If we continue like that,” he murmurs, his voice husky, “we won’t make our reservations in Malibu.”

I laugh softly, my own breath coming in short gasps. “You’re right. We should probably go.”

He gives me one last, lingering kiss on the lips before moving away.

As he pulls back onto the road, I straighten and take another deep breath, trying to focus on the moment. Maybe, just maybe, I can let myself enjoy this without overthinking it. Take it for what it is—a thrilling detour from the everyday, a chance to feel alive and desired.

Once I take a moment to recover from the kiss, I think about the last thing he said and furrow my brows at him. “Wait, you had time to make reservations? We only started texting about five minutes before you showed up at Blair’s.”

A sheepish smile spreads over his lips. “I made them earlier.”

“Oh, and you were sure I’d drop everything and go on a date with you?” I tease.

He chuckles, his cheeks pink as he scratches behind his ear. “I was hoping. I would’ve called you much earlier but we were performing at Rockville in Daytona and then tried to get some shut-eye during the four-hour flight back.”

I nod, understanding the demands of his world. “I get it. Life of a rockstar.” I smirk.

He chuckles, shaking his head. “Aye, it can get pretty hectic. But I’m here now. So, what’d you tell your date?”

“That Henry has food poisoning,” I laugh a bit sheepishly. “It was the best I could come up with on the spot.”

“Well, I’m glad you decided to come with me,” he says, reaching over to grab my hand. “I’ve been thinking about you a lot since that kiss.”

“Me too,” I admit, my heart fluttering at his touch as I thread my fingers through his. “That’s why I agreed to go on the date with Walsh.”

Killian looks at me, lifting a brow. “You were thinking of me, yet you went on a date with someone else?”

I sigh. “I know, it’s stupid, but I was trying to forget you.”

He smirks, though there’s a softness in his eyes. “Forget me, huh? How’s that working out for you?”

I laugh. “Not well, obviously.”

Kilian squeezes my hand gently, his touch warm and reassuring. “I’m glad it didn’t work.” His eyes remain focused on the road, but his thumb strokes the back of my hand in soothing circles.

A smile pulls at my lips, the nerves from earlier melting away as I whisper, “Me too.”

[bro-atz]

1024UB CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE: IS THIS A DATE?

word count: 3.5k

table of contents ♤ previous chapter ♤ next chapter

Gyuri didn’t think she had any weird kinks. She got turned on by the standard things, and that was pretty much it. However, seeing an exceptionally emotionally vulnerable San the other night really did it for her. She thought about the look on his face at odd hours during the day, and it definitely wasn’t helpful to visualize him in the middle of cooking, or class, or literally any other time. She absolutely adored the way he kissed her that night, too. She always hated kisses that were just pecks on the lips, but she’d literally do anything for him to kiss her softly like that again.

Whenever the thought of him that night popped into her head, she involuntarily touched her lips, and right after, she would remember the sad yet sultry look on his face when he hovered above her. Every time she thought about it, she could feel heat rush to her cheeks, and she would have to press her hands against her cheeks to calm them down. It was quite annoying to do this on the hour every hour she was awake, but God, that look was everything to the point where she really wished she had a picture of his face.

In the same vein, she was also extremely frustrated with him. She wanted to know what led him to that point that day, but every time she brought it up, he just brushed her off and avoided the subject or gave her a half-assed answer. Heat rampaged through her stomach thinking about how much she wanted him to look at her like that again but with at least knowing the reason why this time. Her fingers found their way to her lips once more and pressed lightly.

“Hello? Earth to Gyuri?” Gyuri snapped out of her trance when someone waved their hand in front of her face.

“Sorry, I spaced out,” she immediately apologized.

She was at Ze Cafe with Seonghwa just grabbing coffee and chilling out. He asked her to hang out with him, and given the situation they all were in, she had no choice but to say yes. She wasn’t opposed to hanging out with Seonghwa, but honestly speaking, she wanted to spend a little more time with San on the weekends.

“Yeah, I could tell. What’s on your mind?” Seonghwa asked.

“Oh, nothing, really…”

“Are your lips chapped or something? You keep touching them,” Seonghwa pointed out. “I have some lip—”

“No!, No, they’re fine,” Gyuri interrupted him.

Seonghwa nodded and took a sip of his coffee before saying, “Are you okay? You seem out of it.”

Gyuri didn’t know how to respond to that. She knew she had to lie because there was no way in hell she was going to tell Seonghwa about her and San— not yet for that matter. She moved her fingers from her lips to her forehead and said, “Yeah, I’m fine. I’m just a little mentally-not-here… That last assignment was horrible.”

“God, yeah, that was killer,” Gyuri was relieved that he accepted her response. “Maybe we should take the day to do relaxing things?”

“What, relaxing at Ze Cafe isn’t enough?” Gyuri couldn’t help but laugh.

“Let’s do something new and go out.”

Her heart tightened— why did he phrase it like that? Did he mean go hang out? Go out and hang? Was he asking her on a date? Gyuri thought that denial would be her friend in that situation, so she said, “Sure, we can go hang out,” hoping that the crisis would be averted.

“Cool. I was thinking the museum— that new photography exhibit just opened up, and I know how much you’d been wanting to go,” Seonghwa smiled and leaned back in his chair.

“Oh my God, yes!” a smile immediately spread across her face, only to fall seconds later. “Wait, but can we even get tickets? They’re sold out already… I tried to get them the other day.”

“I managed to snag two,” Seonghwa said nonchalantly.

A bad feeling started to emerge from deep within Gyuri’s gut. She had been trying to get tickets for the exhibit for well over two weeks now, and the fact that Seonghwa just happened to have two tickets didn’t sit well with her. She hoped that he originally got them for him and his ex-girlfriend, and now he needed someone to go with. Gyuri kept telling herself that as she responded, “Okay, let’s go.”

“Let’s leave now, then?” Seonghwa stood up, his coffee mug in hand.

Gyuri nodded and stood up as well. She locked eyes with Seonghwa, only for him to grin widely. Gyuri responded with a weak smile because she just knew something bad was going to happen, but she didn’t know how the hell she would get out of that situation at that point. Also, she still really did want to go to the exhibit, so she swallowed her fear and doubt and went with Seonghwa to the exhibit.

Upon arriving at the exhibit, she and Seonghwa were talking pretty normally, which made Gyuri feel a whole lot better about the situation. They barely stood in line for the exhibit, and when Seonghwa produced the tickets for them to get into the exhibit, Gyuri caught a brief glimpse at them. There were timestamps for the tickets, but it was not the purchase date— rather, it was an entry time. Gyuri checked the time on her phone and tried to recollect the time on the ticket, but she was only able to see it in the fleeting moment. Regardless, something was definitely weird about the tickets and the way Seonghwa got her to come with him for the exhibit.

The exhibit itself was a dream for Gyuri. Since she loved traveling the world, she also loved pictures of the world. She was a novice at taking them herself, so she was always in awe of the people who could do what she always wanted to do. Her heart fluttered as she saw the beautiful landscapes of South America. She quietly resolved to herself that the next place she solo-backpacked through would be South America.

She stood before one picture in particular: the Bolivian salt flats. She just stared at the reflection of the sky on the flats and wondered how on Earth a place like this existed, especially after humans ruined everything. Her arms rested at her sides as she just took in the beauty of the photo, the sounds around her filtering out. It was simply just her and the photograph.

That was when she was snapped back to reality. She felt someone come up from behind her, and she immediately turned around to see that it was Seonghwa. He didn’t seem to notice that she was looking at him— he, too, seemed enamored with the photo. Gyuri hesitantly directed her attention back to the photograph, painfully aware that she and Seonghwa were standing extremely close to each other. She could feel her heart racing, and it took everything in her to not hold her hand over her beating heart. She settled for balling her hands into fists.

“Hey, there’s more over here,” Seonghwa whispered, his voice dangerously close to her ear.

He turned and walked towards the place he was talking about, but before he had, Gyuri felt his shoulder and hand brush lightly against her. She froze. Her mind was reeling. She wanted to know what the hell her own feelings were. Did she still have a crush on Seonghwa? Was it guilt that she was here with Seonghwa? She asked herself various versions of these questions as she and Seonghwa continued walking, the questions making her unable to even comprehend the rest of the exhibit.

Gyuri was able to calm herself down and act normal as they left the exhibit and went to a nearby bistro for lunch. They sat across from each other, and thankfully they were able to converse normally. Honestly, Gyuri was starting to forget how their friendship used to be before she started having that crush on him, and now she was remembering. They talked about dumb shit from their high school years and their college days, and overall just had a good time.

“Do you remember when Mr. Lee asked Ms. Song out during Valentine’s Day?” Seonghwa asked.

“Oh my God, yes! I was part of the committee that handed out the valentines that day. Seeing their names really freaked me out,” Gyuri covered her mouth as she remembered.

“I still can’t believe she said yes. I heard from someone that they’re actually engaged now.”

“No fucking way! Good for them.”

“Oh, speaking of engaged, did you know that Hyunjin is actually getting married in a couple months?”

“Yeah, I got the wedding invitation. It’s so crazy that he’s getting married so young,” Gyuri munched on her salad with slight disgust.

“Forget that, I can’t believe he’s the first one of us to get married. That boy was such a slut, I’m surprised he picked one person,” Seonghwa laughed.

“Dear God, yes! There was that rumor that he was spreading whatever STD it was around the student body, right? That wasn’t real, right?”

“No, he’s clean.”

“How do you know this?” Gyuri was a little skeptical.

“He forced me to come to the clinic with him as a witness,” Seonghwa frowned. “He didn’t have to go so far to prove the point… The receptionist thought that we were together.”

Gyuri nearly choked on her salad just thinking about her best friend dating that boy slut Hyunjin. High school Gyuri would’ve also been mortified.

They continued to talk, but at some point, it was Gyuri driving the conversation. She kept the conversation going even long after all their food had disappeared and their coffee cups were empty. She was complaining to him about something Wooyoung did, and that’s when she noticed it. Seonghwa was laughing with her, yes, but not in the way he normally was. She felt like he was really observing her, and his smile was sweeter than usual. His sweater was pulled up enough to give him sweater paws, which she only noticed because he was resting his cheek on his hand, his elbow on the table. His dark, neatly styled hair was covering his eyes where Gyuri could see them, but not to the point where she could really figure out the expression on his face other than his breathtaking smile making him seem so much happier than he had been in a while. Her heart was beating so loud that she was worried that he would hear her heart pounding against her ribs; but he was sitting across from her, so he definitely couldn’t tell.

They ended up leaving the bistro right as the sun was setting. Gyuri was about to ask Seonghwa if they should head home, but he started walking in a different direction and said, “Let’s go for a walk.”

Gyuri didn’t know how to oppose that, so she nodded and walked alongside him. They reached a park with a beautiful garden that actually had flowers blooming despite the harsh weather of November, a path to walk through the orange-hued trees, and a playground with children enjoying their lives. Gyuri couldn’t help but smile— she wasn’t overly fond of children, but just seeing the way they played made her nostalgic of the days when life wasn’t so complicated. She felt her heart ache.

Along with her heart aching was the bad feeling returning to her gut. She looked to Seonghwa to see him just looking straight ahead of them at the path through the trees. They didn’t utter a word to each other as they both found their feet leading them to the path. Gyuri wanted oh so badly to say something to relieve the building tension between them. She didn’t want to know what was coming for her despite basically knowing what was going to happen. She’d seen it in all the dramas and tv shows; it was such a cliche that she found it hard to believe that she was now living the cliche.

She felt his fingers wrap around her arm and pull her aside, Gyuri losing her footing and nearly falling right into Seonghwa’s chest. There was a runner coming their way, and she definitely would have collided with the guy had Seonghwa not pulled her aside.

“Thanks,” she croaked out; great, now the anxiety was pouring out of every crevice of her body.

Gyuri leaned back and tried to get her arm out of Seonghwa’s grasp, but he held on the slightest bit tighter. Her heart thudded wildly in her chest as his hand moved up towards her face. She didn’t dare close her eyes, and it was a good thing she didn’t because all he was doing was brushing a leaf out of her hair. Gyuri laughed awkwardly and smoothed her hair in the exact spot Seonghwa moved the leaf from, only for her to place her hand on top of his. She looked up to see his intense, focused gaze. Their eyes met, and in that moment, Gyuri forgot how to breathe. She took in all of his beauty and felt her heart go even faster as she still forgot to breathe.

Seonghwa pulled her in slightly closer— only the tiniest bit. His hand moved from her hair down to her cheek. She felt his fingertips trail along her neck tickling the nape of her neck. His face came in closer slowly.

Gyuri was frozen. She closed her eyes tightly as she felt his soft lips press lightly against hers. He moved away for a split second before kissing her a little more lovingly. She did not dare move as he leaned away. She opened her eyes to see him smiling softly at her, and she immediately felt tears spring to her eyes. His hand that was holding onto her arm slipped down so that he was barely holding her fingertips, and his other hand completely moved away from her body. Gyuri felt like every spot on her body that he touched grew hotter by the second.

When Seonghwa exhaled, Gyuri looked up at him again. She hoped that he had just kissed her out of curiosity, that he wasn’t going to say what she thought he was going to say. However, like the cliche, he said something she really didn’t want him to say with that soft smile still on his face. “I’ve been wanting to tell you since our senior year in high school, but I really like you. I can’t imagine spending a day without you. Not seeing you when I was stuck with Bora was horrible, and I hate that I listened to her lies… But I know now, and I’ve learned from my mistake. I should have told you that I liked you before she entered our lives, but I kept quiet. I kept quiet for so long because I was worried you wouldn’t feel the same way about me. I was insecure. Now, all I know is that I want you to know how I feel.”

“Hwa…” Gyuri’s voice wavered. “If you really liked me all this time, then why’d you say all those nasty things about me to my face?”

“It was all because of Bora. She was the one shoving poison down my throat. I’ve never once thought of you like that. You’re my best friend, Gyu.”

Gyuri stepped back slightly and shook her head. There were many thoughts revolving in her mind, one of them being Seonghwa kissing Bora and how happy he looked with her. In their seven years of friendship, not once did he look at her like that, so she couldn’t believe a word he was saying. She remembered how traumatizing it was for him to call her those horrid names and walk out on their friendship so easily for that girl. “…You really have no idea how much you hurt me,” she managed to say out loud.

“I’m sorry, Gyuri. I truly am so sorry. Please forgive me. You’re everything to me. Everything and more.”

Seonghwa wrapped his arms around the girl and left a light kiss on the top of her head. She tried to get out of his grip, her tears falling rapidly. “Seonghwa, please, let go of me… Please stop,” she sobbed.

Ignoring her, he petted her head slowly until she stopped fighting him. She still wanted him to let go, but she lost all the strength she had. Gyuri settled for grabbing his shirt collar and measly pushing against him, only for her head to rest against her chest. She stared at her shoes as Seonghwan’s hug eased up the slightest bit. Her tears were still falling, but she stopped sobbing.

“Let me make it up to you,” Seonghwa’s voice broke slightly.

Gyuri looked up to see tears in his eyes too, making her want to cry all over again. His lips were pulled into a painful frown as his thumb shakily wiped the tears from her eyes. She just couldn’t hold eye contact any longer. Her heart was hurting so bad. She felt like someone drove a stake through her heart and kept twisting it and twisting it. Her mind went blank as she unconsciously wrapped her arms around his waist. A gust of wind rushed past them and knocked more leaves out of the trees, but Gyuri didn’t hear the wind rushing past her ears or feel the leaves falling through the sound of her heart pounding and her body slowly getting numb.

Right at that moment, San popped into her mind. She thought about the way San held her and how he somehow knew exactly how to comfort her in various scenarios. She didn’t feel right in Seonghwa’s arms, and her face did not press into his chest comfortably. She didn’t like the way Seonghwa was petting her hair despite feeling that pet for years. Her body ached to get away from Seonghwa and run to San. She managed to pull away from Seonghwa enough so that he would let go of her. He tried to hold onto her arm or hand, but luckily, she was able to slip out of that.

The two stood in silence, unable to look at each other. Gyuri looked away and dried her tears to the best of her abilities before saying, “I’m sorry, Seonghwa. I don’t feel the same way about you. Not anymore…”

The last part slipped out of her mouth without her realizing it until she heard herself say it. She prayed that Seonghwa wouldn’t pick up on that, and her prayers worked. “It’s fine. I just want you to know how I feel. You don’t have to feel the same way, not yet at least. I’ll wait for you.”

“No. You shouldn’t,” Gyuri shook her head. She wanted to tell him it was because she liked San, but she couldn’t bring herself to admit the whole truth; she settled for part of the truth, “I think we need to stay friends for now. It’s going to take me a lot of time for me to trust you again.”

“I understand.”

He really didn’t, but at that point, Gyuri wanted to do anything to leave the situation. Seonghwa successfully reclaimed her hand and sandwiched it between his hands lightly. Gyuri nearly flinched, but she saw the look on his face— he was sporting the saddest smile, and his eyes glistened with tears. They were silent once again as they looked at one another.

“I, uh, think I should head home,” Gyuri whispered.

“Okay…”

Silence again. Not a single person moved.

“Can I at least walk you home?” Seonghwa broke the silence.

Gyuri could only really nod. The two ended up walking home in silence, Gyuri walking a couple feet ahead of Seonghwa. When they arrived at 1024UB, Seonghwa took her hand one more time. Gyuri looked at him sadly; he was not making this any easier for her. They both made eye contact one last time as Seonghwa said softly, “I want you to know how I feel, but that doesn’t mean I want to stop being your friend. Take some time for yourself. I’ll wait for you.”

With that, Seonghwa gave her hand a light squeeze and entered the building before her. Gyuri remained frozen in place from the second Seonghwa left until the elevator he took returned back to the lobby. Numb, she took the elevator to her floor, entered her apartment, set her belongings on the dining table, and made her way to the couch. She sat on the rug in front of the couch and hugged her legs to her chest.

She thought about the kiss he gave her, and then thought about him and Bora. She thought about the way he held her hand and then remembered the first time he introduced Bora as his girlfriend and how he held her hand that day. She thought about him hugging her, him apologizing, his sad smile, his warmth, and then she thought about the rage in his eyes, anger in his voice, the tension in his fists, and the malice in his words when he chose Bora over her. Tears flooded Gyuri’s eyes, but before they could spill, she wiped them with her sweater sleeve. She did her best to keep her sobs as quiet as possible, which was definitely a Herculean task given how much paint every single part of her heart was enduring.

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[spectralquartzafterdark]

For any ship,

Describe their love languages and how they show affection to one another, comfort, and dote.

Ship: Ratchet and Rosie Universe: Transformers Prime TW: General NSFW Themes Info: After the awful time we've had this week I wanna reward our RosiexRatchet anon and @saberstars. Hugs and Hearts from us.

I never really thought I'd be breaking on this, but here we are! They wanna call her a Mary Sue? Fine. She can have all the husbands! Check it out below the cut.

Rosie – Physical Touch (Receiving) and Words of Affirmation (Giving)

Rosie is someone who loves physical touch. Her body is in immense pain constantly due to her Lupus. So, being touched by gentle hands is something that is soothing for her. It gives her body a chance to register something other than pain. Especially, when Ratchet is a giant heater in his own right. It's comforting on her poor body.

With her hair being as long and as thick as it is she enjoys with others brush and braid it. Something that usually only smaller bots or humans can do. Though she still appreciates it when Ratchet strokes her hair.

Sex - it's abundantly clear that it's something she shares with very few people. Not because she feels as if it's disgusting or dirty, but because for her it's a show of immense trust. Humans don't have sparks in the same way bots do and Ratchet has come to learn that for her - this is her equivalent of Spark Bonding.

When trying to show affections however her words tend to be her strong suit even when she's not able to find all the right words. She's not afraid to tell people how much she cares. Even with a grumpy old man like Ratchet. Hell she's made Megatron stumble from her kindness.

She reminds Ratchet that he doesn't need to walk on busted energon soaked joints to be worthy of love and that his life was never meant to be a punishment. Something she has to repeat often in numerous ways to him.

She's also one of the few who can bring him down from a manic episodes. Optimus can't even talk sense into him when he's like that, but she can bring him to the present every time.

Rosie takes joy in reminding him his work doesn't go unnoticed in the slightest. Even in the berthroom ;)

Ratchet – Quality Time (Receiving) and Acts of Service (Giving)

Ratchet loves just having her in the room with him. Even if all she's doing is catching a nap or organizing some tools. It's the quiet moments that ground him and remind that his new life on Earth is real. And that he will be okay no matter what happens while he is here on this planet.

Most days her being there is enough. Of course some days this need overlaps with a much deeper need. Cybertronians still crave physical affection and he's found interesting ways to fulfill his needs when they interface.

It's the aftermath he loves. Her small frame just sprawled out on his chassis. Soft skin pressing against slowly cooling metal as she sleeps. He's able to bask in the quiet moment and just be. No pressure to perform - he gets to just exist with her in that moment. It's not something that happens often, but when it does he basks in it.

To make his feelings known however - he likes to perform acts of service. Sometimes it comes in small things like reminding her to eat, reminding her to take her medication or helping her calm down after a particularly rough day. If he was smaller he would do far more. But, even when mass displaced he still isn't small enough to do what he wants.

He's dabbled in Dexcom Technology wanting to make a monitor that was more permanent. Though he tried to hide his secret project, Rosie is smart and caught on. He didn't like the thought that she had to reinsert such a device so often. He knew how fragile humans could be and didn't like seeing her in pain after each change out. It's unfortunately he couldn't quite figure it out. However it did help improve energon level detection so it wasn't a total loss.

This love language is one that works best with her need for physical touch, because he is more than happy to serve her.