#completely understandable if you were there though | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

xspeter · 2 days

Text

꥟ part of the “dancing with our hands tied” collection, Luke Castellan x Apollo!reader

꥟ IN WHICH… You discover that everyone at camp can tell.

꥟ W.C: 3k

Capture the Flag is a camp staple. It’s practically what makes the camp what it is! The battle strategy, the team work, the training.. it was perfect.

“Explain to your idiot boyfriend that we should get the Aphrodite cabin because he already has the advantage!”

“Just because we have more campers doesn’t mean we have the advantage! How many times do I need to say that?”

Clarisse and Luke have this argument nearly every week. Always fighting about who gets what cabin, which battle strategies were ethical and which weren’t, that whole ordeal.

You just wish they’d stop including you in it. Especially when you’re trying to clean a little boy's scraped knees!

You sigh, shooting the Demeter child a sorry look, but he doesn’t notice. Instead, he’s got a huge smile on his face as he watches Luke and Clarisse bicker like siblings. “They’re silly!” He giggles.

You smile, placing a blue band-aid on his knee and helping him off the bed. “Yep. Sooo silly.”

He doesn’t spare you a second glance as he leaves, and you’re partially grateful and partially offended. You don’t linger on the thought though, instead focusing the rest of your attention on the two fuming teens.

“You already have half the cabins in camp! Just because our cabins bigger doesn’t mean you get to hog everyone!”

“We aren’t hogging everyone-”

You rub the bridge of your nose, annoyance building in your temples. Are they aware that this is still technically your place of work? You don’t hang out in the infirmary on the daily just for fun. As Apollo Head Counselor it was literally your job to be there, and they were just making it harder.

“Okay, guys, calm down-”

They don’t listen, instead just getting louder and louder. Some of the patients are starting to notice, and seeing as majority of them are younger kids, it makes them nervous. And nervous kids in medical settings? Never a good mix.

“Luke, you’re literally so stupid it shocks me that you’re even still alive.”

“Right, because I understand basic math and you don't, I'm the stupid one. Makes complete sense.”

You sigh, glancing at a little girl that has started fighting the medicine your brother was trying to give her. It’s already been a struggle to even get her to lay down, and they had disrupted any progress you guys had made.

“Can you guys stop yelling, please?” You strain, watching as another little boy begins to cry when Clarisse practically screams fuck you! at Luke.

Again, they ignore you, and you’re starting to wonder if they can even hear anything you're saying. You wouldn’t be surprised if not.

“You know what, Castellan? Why don’t you take your math, and shove it right up your-”

“Okay!” You intervene, grabbing them both by their wrists and dragging them out of the building. Honestly, you’re still not sure they’re processing anything you’re saying or doing, because the entire time you lead them outside they glare at each other like two children.

Once you’ve gotten a safe distance from the patients and any prying ears, you smack both of them upside the head. Clarisse yelps while Luke’s hand immediately goes to soothe the spot.

“Are you guys deaf or just plain selfish?” You ask, nostrils practically flaring. “I mean, did you not notice the patients in there or did you just not care? Because to me it seems like you just didn’t care!”

They both have the decency to look at least a little bit ashamed, and for some reason it almost makes you feel bad. You're not sure if it's because of the genuine guilt on both of their faces, or just your constant need to please. You’re betting on the latter.

Luke swallows, sharing a glance with Clarisse before both of their gazes fall to the floor. “We’re sorry.” Clarisse mumbles, rubbing her arm uncomfortably. To most, Clarisse was rude and rarely ever apologized, but that was just to the people she didn’t know.

If you really took the time to know her, you’d discover she was just as lost as the rest of you. And underneath that hard exterior, there was a sweet girl begging to be found. You just had to be willing to look for it.

Luke nods in agreement, “Really, really sorry.”

Your eyes dart between the two of them, arms crossing over your chest. Some part of you wants to continue raging on them, you feel like it’ll be a bit therapeutic. But, the more rational part of you knows how serious they take the game, and sometimes they just get too into it.

“It’s fine,” You mumble, sucking in a breath and dropping your arms to your sides again. “Just, explain to me again whatever it is you guys are mad about.”

They both go to speak at the same time, and you realize you should’ve been more specific with your wording. You put a hand up to stop them, and quickly say, “Without arguing.”

You don’t miss Clarisse’s eye roll, but you choose not to call her out on it. Luke glances at the dark haired girl, and she gestures for him to speak a bit more aggressively than you think was necessary.

He sighs, turning to you with a slight smirk. It was his signature one, the one that practically dropped trouble. “Basically, Clarisse wants the Aphrodite Cabin because they have more campers, but she already has more than half the cabins in camp. So, I think we should be able to keep the Aphrodite cabin.”

You nod, “Which cabins does Clarrise have?”

The Ares child answers, “Demeter, Hephaestus, Dionysus, and Ares- obviously.”

You assumed that meant the other cabins were on Luke’s team, and if that was true, that meant he had the majority of the bigger cabins. Which meant that Clarrise should get Aphrodite.

But, the puppy dog look on Luke’s face makes your heart skip a beat, and you wonder if maybe you could bend your morals for him. Just this once. It was just a game after all, right?

Unfortunately, Clarrise has this knowing look in her eyes, like she knows what you’re thinking. It makes you feel small, so you do your best to seem as nonchalant as possible and say, “Then Clarrise should get it. But, maybe give Luke Dionysus? Since there’s only two of them.”

A huge grin overtakes Clarisse’s face, and she sticks her tongue out at Luke. “Ha!” She shouts, pointing a finger in Luke’s face. “I knew your girlfriend would agree with me.”

Luke rolls his eyes, a slight blush overtaking his cheeks at the word girlfriend. “Yeah, yeah. Whatever. We’re still gonna beat you.”

Clarisse just shrugs him off, shooting you a wink as she walks away. Your friendship with Clarisse definitely was unexpected considering your clashing personalities, but you loved the girl like a sister.

Luke sighs dramatically, bottom lip jutting out a bit as he crosses his arms over his chest. “You really couldn’t have just given them to me?” You snort, you know he’s not really angry with you, which is why you roll your eyes with a grin.

“Sadly, no.” You shrug, “Besides, we both know you’ll be able to win without them.” It was true, Luke’s quick thinking and obvious knack for battle strategy set him up for success. But, it was also pretty well known majority of the kids in the Aphrodite Cabin would rather spend their time braiding hair and gazing at themselves in puddles. So, you didn’t think it was that hard of a loss.

Luke chuckles, “Why? Because they’d rather stare at their reflection then actually play the game?”

You pretend to think, scratching your chin and gazing up at the sky. “Um, yeah, exactly my point.”

He snorts in response, allowing you to lead him back into the infirmity silently. You almost find it strange how he doesn’t even question you. Just… follows. “I didn’t think you’d be so stereotypical, Sweetheart.” He jokes.

You shrug, “What can I say? I’m full of surprises.”

Luke watches as you push the door open, immediately going to greet a waiting patient. She’s a little bit older, probably around Percy’s age, but you still talk to her gently and kindly. Still treat her like a little kid, but not in a condescending way.

Luke’s not sure how you manage it. It makes his heart flutter in his chest for reasons he can’t explain.

“Yeah.” He sighs, eyes trailing your every move. “You are.”

꥟

You didn’t particularly enjoy being stuck in the medical tent during capture the flag. Not because you wanted to actually play the game, no, but because you were completely alone.

Some of your siblings always offered to stay behind with you, but you never let them. They’d be miserable staying with you, even if they wouldn’t admit it. Thus, here you sat, alone.

It wasn’t all bad. You enjoyed the peace, a rare thing to get at Camp Half-Blood, and most of the campers were too hell-bent on winning to even bother stopping by. Which meant you got to enjoy the unusual serenity all by yourself.

The birds sing hymns that you don’t know the words to, and the leaves dance together like professional ballerinas. It’s all very beautiful, really.

At least it is until Percy Jackson rips through the trees, a wide smile on his face and his chest heaving. His eyes dart around the opening, before they finally land on you.

You're sat outside the tent, jean shorts surely stained an unflattering green color and shins covered in shards of grass.

“Oh! Good, you’re here.” Percy breathes, jogging over to you. You stand, doing your best to discreetly wipe at your butt.

“Yep. I’m..” You let out a sigh, “still here.”

Percy just sniffs, giggling a bit and bouncing on his toes. He looks like a little boy who’d just been told he could get his favorite candy from the store. “He got it.” He says.

You raise an eyebrow, “Who got what?”

“Luke got the flag.” He grins, “I’m supposed to wait here to make sure no Ares campers cross the threshold.”

You nod. The makeshift infirmary was placed directly on the invisible threshold, but you found it a little weird Luke would send Percy to lookout for incoming Ares campers here when majority of them would probably be somewhere deeper in the woods.

You knew that, and surely Luke knew that, which meant..

You give Percy a sympathetic look. It’s not his fault he gets… distracted so easily when playing the game, but you also understood how seriously Luke took this. It just sucked he resorted to lying to the kid instead of coming up with something else for him to do.

“I see,” You mumble, eyeing a small cut on Percy’s knee. “What if I patch that up while you wait?” You ask, gesturing to the cut with your chin.

Percy shakes his head, eyes never leaving the woods. “Can’t. Have to make sure no one crosses.”

You sigh, chewing on your bottom lip. Percy could be so stubborn, that’s probably why he and Annabeth got along so well. “I’m sure it’ll be fine. Besides, it’s so quiet you’ll be able to hear them if they do. Just come inside, alright?”

Finally, Percy tears his gaze away from the open area to you, and he’s got that familiar glint in his eye. Percy’s smart, he always had been. And you weren’t the best liar. “What do you know?” He asks suspiciously, pointing an accusing finger at you.

You throw your hands up in surrender, shaking your head. “All I know is that you’re bleeding and it’s my job to take care of that, okay? So let me do my job.”

You can see the inner battle in Percy. He wants to stay out and do what Luke told him, but he also knows the cut on his knee stings like hell. He sighs, lowering his hand and glancing cautiously to the clearing. “Alright… but, promise if we hear anything you’ll let me go back out?”

You smile, “I promise.”

Seemingly satisfied, Percy allows you to lead him inside and begin your work. The floor in the tent was still grass, which meant the chair he was sitting in was quite unstable on the ground.

He rocked on it, eyes going wide when it leaned just a bit too far back. You snort when he does, and he sheepishly rubs his hand on the back of his neck.

You begin your work with no words exchanged between you, instead humming a familiar tune.

“That’s the song you sing at the campfire, right? Here comes the sun?”

You nod, glancing up at him. Percy smirks, hands messing with his helmet. “Luke said that was his favorite song, and I could never really understand why because it’s just… it feels odd to me for someone like him to like that song. But I think I understand why now.”

You’d like to pretend that Percy’s statement doesn’t make you go pink in the face, but it does. Luke said that was his favorite song? Of course, it didn’t automatically mean it was his favorite song because of you, but… it was nice to imagine, right?

“He did?” You ask, clearing your throat and trying to be as causal as possible. “And why do you think you know why? It could just be because it’s a catchy song.”

Percy shakes his head, “Nah. Trust me, it’s definitely not just because it’s catchy. It’s cause-”

The deafening sound of footsteps interrupts the both of you, and you both share a look before Percy is darting out of the tent and outside. You follow closely behind, a fresh pack of band-aids still in your hands.

Luke is leading a chase, with a giant red flag in his hands and a wide grin on his face. Dozens of campers follow him. Percy runs to them, jumping up and down and screeching something you can’t make out. Everyone is laughing, grinning. Everyone except for Luke.

His eyes look over the scene, looking for something you’re not sure of. It’s not until they land on you that it clicks. He was looking for you.

Instantly, he shoves the flag over to some unsuspecting kid and rushes over to you. It’s such an exhilarating feeling, being the person he looks for. You aren’t sure when that had happened, or what you had even done to deserve it- you just know you’ll thank The Gods everyday for allowing it.

Luke’s arms wrap around your waist, engulfing you in a bone-crushing hug. Instantly, your senses are overrun by everything Luke. You can feel him, smell him, practically taste him with how close he is. It’s too much and not enough all at the same time.

Your arms wrap around his neck, dropping the pack of band-aids in the grass and standing on your toes. You grin into his neck, “I knew you’d win.”

Luke snorts, giving you one final squeeze and backing away, but his hands remain at your waist. It makes you feel faint. “It was nothing, really.” He says with a shrug.

You furrow your brows, unconvinced. You know Luke is more than proud of his accomplishment, so why was he acting so easy going right now?

“Is that so?” You ask, swaying on your feet. “So, you aren’t going to be bragging to Clarisse for the next week about how you beat her?”

He scoffs, shaking his head. “Oh, no, of course I am. But, I can’t say that in front of a pretty girl can I? Gotta play it smooth.” He squeezes your waist as he says it, and your cheeks instantly fluff. A pretty girl. He was calling you a pretty girl.

Compliments from Luke were hardly rare, but he never said them in front of so many prying eyes. And it’s then that you notice everyone staring at the two of you, most all have knowing smirks on their faces, but some look on in jealousy. You hate to admit that it almost makes you prideful.

You were the only one Luke ran too- the one he looked for. That had to mean something, didn’t it?

You look away from him, rolling your eyes and shoving at him playfully. “Shut up, you flirt.”

He pretends to look hurt, giving you his best puppy dog eyes and grasping at his chest. “Oh, how you wound me!”

You giggle and open your mouth to respond, but Clarisse's familiar screech of anger interrupts you. “Where is he?”

You raise your brows, watching as Luke winces. While he would be claiming bragging rights for the rest of the week, being around her right now definitely wasn’t the best idea.

You suck in a breath, whistling lowly. “I think you’d better run.”

Luke’s lips thin into a line, tilting his head. “Yeah. Probably.” But, he doesn’t move. Instead, he just stares down at you. You raise your eyebrows in confusion, “Are you going to go?” You ask.

Luke grins slyly, “Yeah, just one more thing..”

It’s then that you feel the familiar warmth of Luke’s lips on your cheek, suspiciously close to your mouth. But, just as soon as he was there, he was gone. Running off and leaving you flustered and alone.

Your hands intertwine in front of you, a large cheesy grin on your face. You turn and begin walking back to the tent to clean up, but everyone’s eyes on you stops you. You glance down at your clothes, and then feel your face, checking for something- anything.

When you don’t find anything, you let out a nervous laugh. “What…?”

Everyone shares a look, one that you know all too well. You let out a groan, hands running through your hair, “It’s not like that!”

Percy shakes his head, “Yeah, okay. Of course it’s not.”

You just roll your eyes and storm into the tent. They were seeing things that just weren’t there! Luke was your best friend, and it was normal for best friends to be affectionate!

Hugs, compliments, cheek kisses… there was nothing else going on. Luke was just your friend being happy to see you.

That was all.

taglist: @apolloscastellan @ddarling-ddearest-ddead

#luke castellan x you #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan fanfic #luke castellan #charlie bushnell x reader #charlie bushnell #percy jackson and the olympians x reader #percy jackson fanfic #percy jackson and the olympians #fanfic #fluff #the alchemy #song fic #pining #kat thinks 🙋‍♀️#xspeter works #dancing with our hands tied

259 notes · View notes

extemts · 3 days

Note

Since you asked, I will be here kindly dropping an ask for a request to write something for Joost.

Do you do sweet jealousy? Where the reader is jealous? Nothig toxic obviously 😂

For example where now that he is gaining more love from people, and thus more attention from girls too, the reader pouts when he talks to this girl who approached him and she is a bit more touchy feely with him? While she is understanding and happy for him, naturally the jealousy can't be hold back.

Or whip something up that just flows from your imagination 😌

Thank you in advance!

Mwah 💋

Well, my boyfriends pretty cool, you will never reach him.

I love this one!! I always think about this ngl. People cross boundaries a lil too much, so this is your reminder to be aware of your surroundings.

requested? yes!

reader? gender neutral!

genre? jealousy, eventual fluff

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Cold post show beers, breezy hangouts behind the venue, thank you's being exchanged, it was all routine at some point. After his shows someone would get some cold beer while the crew enjoyed the nice breeze outside the venue after the show, just for everyone to cool down, especially Joost. You however stayed rather quiet today, your red hands wrapping around the ice cold bottle, the look in your eyes rather empty as you stare at your boyfriend and those girls next to him.

Unfortunately the area behind the venue seemed to be easily accessible to everyone, and while you were always happy for him to have fans that care so much, it would get hard to watch from time to time. He would never decline a photo with a fan, or an autograph, even the countless gifts he regularly got unless he was genuinely unwell, but the dutch singer was still high on adrenaline and already quite drunk, so he basically welcomed the group of girls with open arms, ready to listen to them. Typically this would really never be an issue, most people knew about your relationship and always supported it, even though you never made it public, so sometimes you were even asked to be in the photo along with them, but this particular group of girls seemed to be completely oblivious to the concept of personal space. One of them seemed particularly interested in him- she must have been your age aswell, at least the tattoos you could see on her body told you quite clearly that she was a grown woman. If it would have been a fourteen year old fangirl or something, you might have been able to excuse it.

There she stood, that grin on her face as she runs her fingers over the tattoos on Joost's arm, talking about how he looks oh so good with them. She kept getting more physical in subtle yet somehow obvious ways, to the point where he started looking awfully uncomfortable too, especially by the time he shot a glance at you only to see that pout and the empty look in your eyes as you stare at them. "Any plans after the show? You must be celebrating the end of your tour. I know a really cool club just around the corner, maybe I'll see you there." she eventually let her fingers drift off of his arm as she gives him one last little wave before leaving with her friends, still giggling carelessly like she didn't have a worry in the world. Once he was free of her again, you felt Joost sitting down next to you, your eyes piercing through the ground until he wrapped his arm around you, making you look up at him again. "I'm sorry sweetheart, some people don't know boundaries..." he whispers as not to pull the attention of the rest of the crew on you, somehow making the accent in his voice even more prominent by doing so. He leans in and starts posting soft kisses along your jawline, knowing damn well this is a ticklish spot for you.

It cheered you up, made you chuckle again before pushing his face away with your hand, trying to break free from the tickling feeling. "Now don't just push me away!" he starts acting all offended, gasping at your behavior before he goes right back to attacking your face with a swarm of soft little pecks all over, his arms wrapped around you so you truly have no way of escaping, if you even wanted that.

okaaaay lets go

#joost klein #joost klein fanfiction #joost #joost klein x reader #fanfiction #eurovison song contest #europapa

308 notes · View notes

jellys-compendium · 1 day

Text

Eat Me

A Nanami Kento x F!Reader Vampire AU Oneshot

Rating: Explicit (18+ only, Minors DNI)

Pairing: Vampire!Hunter Nanami Kento x Vampire F!Reader Summary: An aristocratic vampire working in the corporate world is a thing rarely seen, but you're determined to live the normal life you've always longed for. Once you escape your oppressive family, a friend recommends you reach out to the higher ups at JJK Inc., and before you know it, you find yourself settling into a new life. Everything is going smoothly once you settle into your new job; that is until you discover that your stern but outrageously handsome boss, Nanami Kento, knows all about your little secret. CW: smut, vampire au, human/vampire relationship, boss/employee relationship, forbidden love, mutual pining, vampire bites, blood drinking, grinding, dry humping, biting, finger sucking, nanami kento probably has a biting kink but you didn't hear it from me Word Count: 9.2K A/n: This is a rewrite of a previous fic that I posted in the past but have since deleted. Initially I had structured it as a multi-chapter work, however I want to explore some other AUs with Nanami so I decided to rework this into a standalone oneshot. Scenes have been expanded and added so I hope this feels like a fresh read to you all! <3

The putrid scent of burning flesh slams up Nanami Kento’s nose as he enters his target’s opulent office. It’s a familiar and deeply unpleasant smell, one that fosters bad memories and a nauseating churn in the pit of the hunter’s stomach.

Looks like someone beat him to the target.

Nanami’s nose scrunches against the offending aroma, briefly betraying his distaste before his trained gaze scans the spotless space around him. There are no signs of a struggle. Not a single table, chair, or speck of dust is out of place. Everything in this obnoxiously expensive office sits completely undisturbed, as if Nanami were the first person to enter it all week.

Cursing under his breath, Nanami removes his glasses. There is only one vampire hunter alive that is capable of such a feat, and Nanami has no desire to deal with his colleague's theatrical antics tonight.

Satisfied that there are no other uninvited guests in the shadows, Nanami pockets his shades in his breast pocket and journeys deeper into the darkened office. Like a hell hound he follows the scent of death. The soles of his shoes clack ominously against the polished floor with each step he takes, signaling his approach to his colleague.

Not that Gojo Satoru needed the warning.

The smell leads Nanami towards the massive windows that display the city’s beautiful skyline. The sight of the shimmering neon lights against the black backdrop of the night sky provides Nanami with the briefest of mental reprieves. Looking upon those lights, Nanami envisions with longing the night he could have had if he’d only not answered Masamichi’s call.

Enjoying the serene solitude of his apartment across town, sipping away at a glass of bourbon while he languidly worked away over his stove, experimenting with that risotto recipe that he’d seen while perusing a magazine easier that day. That would have been a night worth having. Not one where he had to think about corpses, monsters and death.

Rounding the ludicrously expensive desk that sits in the center of the room, Nanami’s honey brown gaze trails down to the floor, finally arriving at the scene he had expected to see.

A mangled corpse in the process of burning from the inside out lays on the floor. Its eyes are wide with terror and its mouth is stretched open in an eerie, silent scream that would have sent shivers down Nanami’s spine had he not seen this exact same scenario hundreds of times before.

A vampire in the throes of death is a gruesome thing. The sight, sound, smell, and brutal agony of it all will always haunt him. But even though dispatching them is rotten work, Nanami understands that leaving them to their own devices is even more so. The gluttony of their kind when their thirst overcomes their senses is unparalleled. That and their lust for cruelty.

As Nanami silently watches the body burn, the red veins glowing disturbingly before the skin and bone turn to ash, he notes that the form remains perfect and pristine through its destruction. Its blood was uncorrupted. So it had been a noble after all.

Abruptly, a playful chuckle rings through the office and Nanami turns his attention to the source, his brown eyes meeting the inhuman blues of Gojo’s.

The playful hunter smiles.

“Looks like they haven’t all been wiped out.”

Nanami’s brows furrow, the muscles in his shoulders tensing instinctively. The creature truly never stood a chance. No one—human or inhuman—ever saw Gojo coming. They were dead before they even knew they were in danger. In fact, Gojo is so effective at his job that frankly Nanami almost feels sorry for the creatures they hunt. Almost.

“Seems so.”

Gojo’s smile spreads wider across his handsome face. He steps forward, his unmistakable snow white hair illuminated by the glowing lights from the city below. The crunching sound of his boot as he steps over the ash is a perfect allegory for the world at Gojo Satoru’s feet. It truly is only a matter of time before he completely wipes them all out.

“Glad you could make it, Nanamin,” The man teases, his expression gleaming with satisfaction. “Our dusty little friend here told me the most interesting little rumor.”

Nanami’s expression sours, his hands curling into fists as he feels the tension in his body coil tighter. He knows exactly what Gojo’s next words are going to be.

“Another assignment?”

Without a word, Gojo reaches into his pocket and produces a cell phone. Nanami watches, silently annoyed as the man nonchalantly whistles a merry little tune as he opens the phone’s contents. After a few seconds of scrolling, Gojo turns the phone towards Nanami and shows him the target.

A woman. The picture had been snapped at a distance, capturing her in mid stride as she climbed out of the back of a Rolls-Royce Phantom.

Nanami reaches up and zooms in on the picture, his sharp eyes absorbing every detail. Every part of her is in pristine order. Her hair, her clothing, shoes, make-up and nails. Impeccable, immaculate, like a model who had just stepped fresh out of the pages of a magazine.

Everything about her screams untouchable luxury, prestige, and old money. Everything, except her eyes. They are…glassy and distant, as if the soul inside were somewhere else at the moment this picture was taken.

That familiar state of forlorn disconnection, of going through the motions while dissociating from the world around you because that’s the only way you can survive…

A pang of sympathy hits Nanami square in the chest. He understands that feeling all too well.

“A vampire.” The hunter dryly surmises, glancing up at his coworker. “One of the nobles I take it?”

Gojo Satoru’s lips pull back into a spine chilling smile.

“Oh, far more interesting than that.”

The office is plunged into a foreboding silence as Gojo turns the phone in his hand. He types away for a moment before slipping it back into his pocket. Not a moment after, Nanami’s own phone vibrates in his pocket. He pulls it out and glances at the notification.

Gojo Satoru

Target’s image attached. Have fun Nanamin~ <3

“She’s royal.” (xxx)

21 months later

Groggy, your mind surfaces from the depths of sleep. One by one, you slowly feel your senses returning to you.

The first thing that returns to you is touch. The feeling of the soft, warm fabric of your pillow and sheets forming a pleasant cocoon of warmth around you is one of the best things in the world.

The second sensation is scent. The smell of the cool, crisp morning air tickles the tip of your nose. It’s wet and fresh, meaning that it must have rained sometime in the night.

The third sense that returns is sound. From your open bedroom window, you can hear the traffic and bustle of the city below start to swell, building into that buzzing morning rush crescendo that you’ve become so accustomed to in the last year.

To many, mornings like this are predictable and mundane, but to you it’s a little piece of heaven. This is your home, your space, and your time to yourself. No one else's.

And sure, while there may be some days that may feel lonely, overall you are at peace, and that is invaluable to you.

Living this quiet and mundane little life in this dingy yet cozy little apartment, there’s no one here to tell you what to do. No one to lord themselves over you, or tell you what to think and say. No one to tell you what to wear, who to talk to, and who to shun. No one to sneer at you should you prove a disappointment.

Here, you’re allowed to be your true self. You can finally breathe, grow, and rest.

Rest.

Snuggling deeper into the blankets, you plan to do just that. However, something in the back of your mind compels you to open your eyes. You usually wake up a few minutes before your alarm clock, but it feels a little later than usual doesn’t it?

Heaving a sleepy groan, your eyes flutter open, only to shut so that you can rub away the blurry fuzz that clouds your vision. Once satisfied, your eyes squint open again and focus on the glowing red numbers on your alarm clock. It takes a second, but the moment you’re able to process the numbers 8:43 AM, panic immediately floods your every nerve.

“Oh shit!” You shriek as you jolt awake. “No, no, no, no!”

You’re going to be late on the one day you can’t be late. Oh god, you’re going to get an earful from your boss.

Like a speeding bullet, you make a mad scramble for your bathroom, turning on the hot water taps for both your sink and shower all while cursing yourself out.

God, you can’t believe that you slept past your alarm! This is so unlike you, you’ve never slept through your alarm like that. Well…not on an important work day like today that is. It was so unusual, even if you had been sleeping more heavily, the blaring sound of that heinous clock had always gotten you out of bed on the dot before.

Racking your dozy brain for answers, you fiercely stick your toothpaste coated toothbrush into your mouth and hop under the hot spray of the shower. It isn’t until you’re half way done lathering yourself with soap that it hits you.

You had consumed your last blood pack yesterday morning, and had been so swamped with completing your proposal at work that you had completely forgotten to contact your supplier and restock on your way home last night.

Doing the math in your head, you quickly realize that it has been well over 24 hours since you’d last fed—the longest time you’d gone without blood, and it’s safe to say that your body is already cashing in on the grueling consequences.

Lethargy and brain fog are your main symptoms, but there’s also that gnawing little sensation of hunger that sits at the pit of your stomach. Occasionally, the sensation bloats, crawling up your spine to tease at the base of your brainstem, coyly stimulating that little feral part of your brain.

Luckily, these are all symptoms that you can manage for the time being. You don’t have any time to stop by your supplier before work, so you’ll just have to hold out until the day is done.

The next five minutes are a blur of toweling, styling, moisturizing and make up—all done poorly but done nonetheless. You tie up your wet hair as best as you can before dashing back to your bedroom. It takes only two additional minutes for you to get dressed in your business attire and out the door, and only another three to make it out of your building and into the nearest cab.

“JJK Inc, please!”

The driver nods, and you look down to check your watch only to realize that you’ve forgotten it on your nightstand. Cursing under your breath, you reach into your briefcase and pull out your phone, thankful that you didn’t forget that too. 8:58AM. You have exactly two minutes to get to work and you know that this drive takes at least twelve.

Reaching for your purse, you pull out a couple of the biggest bills you have, and towards the driver’s seat.

“Excuse me mister, I’m in a really big hurry today. Could you please go a little faster than usual? I’ll pay you triple for your trouble.”

The grizzled cab driver makes eye contact with you through his rear view mirror, then his gaze falls to the money in your hand.

“You're bribing me to break the law, ma’am?”

A sheepish little smile spreads across your lips and you can’t help but feel a little embarrassed. If you had just gotten your ass out of bed at the right time, you wouldn’t even be in this situation.

“Um…well only a little.”

The cab driver snorts and his dry chuckle fills the cabin.

“Unless you’re willing to pay me my year’s salary, we’re getting there in twelve minutes.”

Begrudgingly, you accept that you are now at the complete mercy of the city’s brutal traffic. Your heavy sigh of defeat answers the cab driver well enough, and he turns his attention back to the road while you sag against the back seat.

That’s it, you’re going to be late for the monthly department meeting. The meeting in which you are scheduled to present your financial proposal for the company’s next fiscal year. You’ve been working so hard on it for the last four months. Way to foster a sense of competence and reliability. Instead you are going to show up ten minutes late, looking like you’d just had a run in with an angry grandmother armed with an umbrella.

Your eyes land on the phone in your hand. 8:59 AM. Your mouth instantly becomes dry and your panic flares.

You have to text your boss and let him know that you’ll be late for the meeting. Although, truth be told, you'd much rather jump out of the cab and let the oncoming traffic put you out of your misery.

But despite your shame, you know it’s the right thing to do. Especially since your boss has supported you so diligently throughout the entire year. Staying late nights at the office with you to help crunch data, patiently answering all your questions and never sparing you details that others may think are “over your head”. He never undermines or insults you when you don't understand something and he has proved time and time again to have faith in your competence.

He may be stern and generally unapproachable, but the subtle emotional support Nanami Kento has given since the first day you walked into JJK Inc means the absolute world to you.

And…you can't help but feel completely downtrodden at the very idea of letting him down. You’ve actually come to like him.

A lot.

…

Maybe a little too much, actually.

You heave out another sigh, hands falling limp on your lap.

Just stop being such a coward. Just call him. He’s not going to fire you over something so miniscule, right?

The cab is suddenly filled with an instrumental little jingle, and your phone begins to buzz in your hand. The sound snaps you out of your thoughts, calling your attention to your device. Your heart nearly stops when you see the name flashing on the display.

Mr. Nanami Kento.

Oh shit.

You’re frozen, suspended in momentary panic as you watch those haunting letters light up with each vibration. Should you let it go to voicemail? What’s worse, getting chewed out now or later? After about half a second of contemplation, you realize that letting the call go to voicemail would only serve to land you in the hottest seat in the house.

So with trembling fingers, you swipe right on your green call button and bring the phone to your ear.

“Good morning, sir.”

“Our department meeting has started. Where are you?”

Straight to the point, like always.

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you resist the urge to twist the fabric of your pencil skirt between your fingers. It’s not even lunchtime yet and your day has gone terribly so far, like you want to add to it by showing up in wrinkled clothes.

“I’m so sorry sir,” You lick your lips, your tongue like sandpaper. “I’ll be there in ten minutes.”

A pause of silence on both your ends serves to add kindle to your blazing nerves, but you wait patiently for your boss to respond. After a few more beats of silence, Nanami speaks. His tone is low and soft, like he’s pulling you aside for a private little word in a large gathering of people.

“This is unusual for you. Is everything alright?”

A tingling shiver runs down your spine, the rhythm of your heart skipping a beat at the sound of his low and concerned drawl. God, it should be illegal for someone to sound that good—that sensual.

He’s your boss.

So what if he’s the most handsome man you’ve ever seen? So what if butterflies swarm and swell in your stomach everytime you think about him? So what if his face is the one on your mind when you slowly glide your fingers between your thighs in the dead of night?

It would never work out between the two of you, despite your fantasies to the contrary. Nanami Kento is a human and you are a vampire. Your life spans are different, your lifestyles are different, and you’d be damned if you dragged a good man like him into the complicated shit storm that is your personal life.

A soft call of your name gently coaxes you to the surface of your thoughts. Nanami pauses again, but his silent urge for you to proceed is palpable. So you close your eyes, inhale a deep breath, and lie.

“I’m alright sir, thank you for your concern. I just mistakenly slept through my alarm, that’s all. I’ll make my way straight up to the boardroom once I arrive.”

Another beat of silence, then a deep, affirmative hum.

“I’ll see you in ten minutes.”

And the call disconnects.

(xxx)

In spite of your tardiness, the department meeting had gone off without a hitch. In fact, upon your arrival you were elated to discover that not only had a seat been left open for you, but sitting on the table right in front of it was a steaming hot cup of coffee and a singular pain au chocolat wrapped delicately in a brown napkin.

You had nearly cried at the sweetness of the gesture, but managed to hold it together as you took your seat. Once situated, you looked at your coworker, Akari Nitta, and mouthed a ‘thank you’. To your shock, Nitta had then responded with an unsubtle shake of her head and then an even more unsubtle glance towards your boss who stood at the head of the table.

Your eyes widened, and impulsively your gaze flew towards Nanami Kento. He paused in the middle of his debrief, a single blonde brow rising at your reaction to his gesture.

Realizing that you were causing a scene, you immediately sunk into your chair and whispered a quiet apology as your face blazed hot. You got out your laptop and focused with all your might on your proposal and its presentation to the department. Fortunately, the presentation went well, garnering you lots of praise from your coworkers, and even a nod of approval from Mr. Nanami himself.

Now you sit at your desk, feeling simultaneously relieved but also like you’re going to jump out of your skin. The stress from the meeting and the presentation of your proposal have long since passed, however in its place another problem has reared its ugly head. It pokes at your every nerve and buries its claws into your sanity itself.

Hungry…

Eyeing the clock every few seconds, you’re desperately willing for it to go faster. Your hunger for blood has grown exponentially since the morning started—so much so that even your coworkers are beginning to look delicious. Especially one man in particular…

It’s okay. Just make it to lunch, then get a rare steak from the restaurant downstairs and that should appease you until the end of the day.

And yet as each agonizing second ticks by, your hunger only grows and grows, and it’s not long before you start to feel weak and a little bit dizzy.

If you aren’t careful, it won’t take much to trigger a nip at someone’s neck. And given the sexual (and unfortunately sometimes violent) connotations of the act of feeding, you’d really like to avoid that if at all possible. You never want to be in one of those unfortunate situations where a vampire has denied their hunger for too long and sadly ended up attacking a human.

Luckily, you aren’t in dire straits yet as the process of descending into that blood lust-fueled madness takes several days. Still, that doesn’t mean that you’re comfortable and willing to suffer the side effects.

Your eyes once again look at the clock on your laptop’s screen. 11:46AM. Close enough.

Quietly, you put your computer to sleep and stretch, groaning with pleasure under your breath as your tight muscles tense and then relax.

In a few quick movements, you collect your coat and purse and start to make your way down the hall of cubicles. Once you reach the cubicles of your friends, Nitta and Ijichi, you poke your head in and whisper.

“I’m heading out for lunch, I’ll be back in an hour.”

Ijichi raises an eyebrow, and both he and Nitta exchange a quizzical glance.

“What?” You ask.

“Did you forget? Mr. Nanami is going to take us all out for lunch today.”

Your heart sinks into your stomach.

“He…he is?”

“Weren’t you listening?” Nitta sighs, tossing the document in her hands onto her desk. “Mr. Nanami announced it at the end of our meeting this morning. He said that he wants to treat us to lunch for all of our hard work. Well, all of your hard work.”

“Ours,” You correct firmly. “I wouldn’t have managed it without everyone’s help.”

“Oh, so modest.” Nitta teases. “No wonder you’re Mr. Nanami’s favorite.”

You roll your eyes. Seriously? Of all the days to—

“I’m not his favorite. Mr. Nanami acknowledges anyone who's done a good job.”

Nitta and Ijichi exchange knowing glances with one another before turning their attention back to you.

“Sure.” They reply in unison, waving your words away like smoke.

Irritated, you decide to end the conversation and continue to make your way down the hall of cubicles and towards the elevator.

“Hey!” You hear Nitta call. “What about lunch? Aren’t you going to join us?”

Not if you can help it. You want to eat lunch alone since being known as the office lady who enjoys eating borderline raw meat isn’t exactly the reputation you’d like to garner for yourself. Plus, having a moment away from the office to clear your head will do you good.

“Are you declining to join us for lunch?”

Your body jolts at the sound of that familiar, deep voice. Turning around, of course you see none other than Nanami Kento standing a few steps away from you. He approaches you, the differences in your height becoming alarmingly apparent as gets closer.

And despite the fact that you’ve seen hundreds of handsome men come and go throughout your multiple lifespans, for the briefest of moments you can’t help but feel a little awestruck.

Nanami is so tall compared to you—not to mention built like a bulldozer. Armed with his steely demeanor, freshly pressed suit, polished shoes, perfectly styled hair and the smell of that aftershave that is to die for, you can say with full confidence that there are few men who can hold a candle to Nanami Kento.

Nanami’s presence has always been nothing short of imposing. No matter which corporate hot shot from the other departments stormed into his office, he would always put them back in their place. In fact, it’s a common sight to watch them scurry down the hidden path of shame between the cubicles, their tail between their legs after they had a meeting with your boss.

“Well?” The soft, honey brown color of Nanami’s eyes does little to counteract the sternness of his expression. He leans in closer, covering you in his shadow. Goosebumps erupt all over your skin as you stifle the lascivious tremor that courses through you.

“Do you have some other previous engagement that you neglected to share?”

As you lock your gaze with Nanami’s, you suffer the briefest moment of weakness.

You wish you could confide in him who you really are and what you’re going through. You’d give anything to have just one person know the real you. Not the confined and sheltered vampire you used to be, nor the workaholic vampire pretending to be human. Just you. And maybe someone like Nanami would be able to handle it, but you can’t take that risk.

“Um…no. I’m not declining.” You reply. “I’m just uh–really hungry.”

Nanami studies you silently for a moment. The weight of his gaze, taxing and on your already frazzled nerves. He sees more than what he lets on, you’re sure of it. But right as you’re about to squirm under his scrutiny he breaks his stare, then checks his watch before turning towards Nitta and Ijichi.

“Since your colleague seems to be eager to go, let’s make it an early lunch today. I’ll meet you all at the restaurant in ten minutes.”

Then, the three of you silently watch him as he disappears into his office.

Following Nanami’s orders, you wait for Nitta and Ijichi as they pack up and then join you in the journey to the elevator. You are absolutely exhausted, but Nitta looks totally ecstatic. Ijichi, as per usual,follows behind in silence.

“Lunch on the boss!” Nitta exclaims. “That means we can get anything we want, right?”

“I don’t think that’s very good manners, Miss Nitta.” Ijichi advises as he hits the call button. “Mr. Nanami is already being generous enough as it is.”

“Awww,” Nitta pouts. “You’re no fun, Ijichi.”

Nitta looks at you, her friendly smile widening.

“What do you think? We should indulge ourselves today, don’t you think?”

You shake your head.

“I think Ijichi is right, we shouldn’t take advantage of him. Even if he can afford it.”

Nitta scrunches her nose and crosses her arms with a half-hearted huff.

“Oh all right. It was mostly a joke anyway.”

(xxx)

The sky has long since darkened, the only thing illuminating the horizon now is the glowing moon and pink and blue neon lights from the city.

You had said goodbye to your coworkers as they trickled out of the office hours ago, wishing that you could have joined them. But your proposal needs finalizing and Nanami’s final seal of approval before you can call it a day. He gave you until 10:00PM tonight to finish it.

A tired groan escapes your lips as you focus on easing the tension in your shoulders. You give your eyes a break from staring at the screen as you reach your arms up for a good stretch. As you move, you glance at the empty cubicles around you. Admittedly, it’s strange and a little spooky being the only one in the office at night, but luckily you aren’t alone. Nanami is holed up in his office at the end of the hall and he has made it clear that you are welcome to come and find him if you need anything.

Letting your arms fall back down after that long stretch, you reach for the steaming mug sitting by your computer and bring it to your lips for a sip. The remainder of the tension in your body eases as the comforting scent of peppermint wafts up your nose.

It’s so liberating being out on your own and away from the pressures of your family. While you hold no hatred in your heart for them, being at the mercy of their tyrannical sheltering in combination with all the stifling traditions, gaslighting, and the social pressure that came with being a member of the royal family, was a torture that you are grateful to no longer endure.

In that place, you were nothing more than an ornament— a possession. All you amounted to in their eyes was something pretty to perch on a pedestal and look at. Back there you had no right to your own words, or thoughts, or feelings, or even to your own body.

Then that one fateful night the incident occurred and you finally reached your breaking point. You ran away, smuggling yourself out of your family’s compound and into the big, wide outside world you’ve only ever seen from a distance.

Admittedly, it had been very difficult in the beginning since your sheltered past had left you with little survival skills, but thanks to the friendships you had developed and the stability offered by your work, you found yourself thriving within half a year’s time.

Gazing out of one of the office windows, you admire the beautiful glowing moon. The callous words of the people you once called “family” resurface in your mind.

“The world is dangerous. Those humans and the other vampires are savages. They’ll eat us alive.”

“Careful. Don’t want to misbehave now do we? It would be terrible if the hunters got a whisper of your whereabouts.”

“There’s no way someone like you could survive on their own.”

They couldn’t have been more wrong. And you’re so proud of yourself for being able to prove that each and every day. You were born a royal to the vampire world and a monster to the human one, but you are the master of your own mind, body and soul. No one has the right to tell you who you are.

A sudden growling sound interrupts your contemplation. Startled, you look down as your stomach tightens and twists painfully, immediately alerting you to the culprit.

The hunger is creeping back with a vengeance. The time you bought is running out.

Luckily, the lunch you’d ordered did the trick in satiating your appetite throughout the afternoon.

Unfortunately though, you now have to carry the lifelong joy of replaying the scene of your very confused and concerned coworkers asking you if you were okay after you had ordered an “exceptionally rare” blue steak with a straight face.

God, the complete silence that had fallen over the table as the waiter brought out the practically bleeding slab of meat and placed it in front of you had been mortifying. It ended up stalling your appetite and—you imagined—the appetites of your coworkers.

As the silence persisted, you remember practically feeling the secret glances your colleagues sent towards you and to one another. Your cheeks had grown hot, and your mouth as dry as a desert as both embarrassment and anxiety sat heavy in the pit of your stomach. Flustered, you felt compelled to apologize and make up some kind of excuse.

“Sorry. I ah…grew up on a beef farm and it wasn’t unusual for us to eat meat like this.”

But then, your boss speaks up and effectively breaks the tense atmosphere with a single statement.

“There is no need for you to apologize or explain your preferences.”

And that had been the end of it.

Gently placing your mug of tea back down, you make quick work of replacing your smudged lipstick before leaning back in your chair and closing your eyes. Of course, the first and only thing your fevered mind conjures is him.

You wish that your thoughts could stay in the realm of innocent admiration, but as your hunger grows and your brain juggles the phenomenon that is Nanami Kento, all your thoughts go straight to the gutter. A sweet lick of heat pulses between your legs and you clench your thighs, groaning quietly in your attempts to stifle it.

You want Nanami Kento. You’ve always wanted him. You have tried so hard to keep your feelings and lewd fantasies under control, but like opening Pandora’s box, your hunger has revealed the truth of your longing.

The way that man sternly commands a room. How he simultaneously supports and takes responsibility for those around him, how caring he can be despite the subtlety of his emotions. All of these are the qualities that have drawn you to him.

But that being said, Nanami’s physical qualities are nothing to scoff at either. The way that man rolls up his sleeves while he’s hard at work, or how his strong brows furrow when he’s faced with a particularly complex situation. The large breadth of his hands and shoulders, the smell of his aftershave and skin, how unbelievably mouth-watering he looks in those form fitting dress shirts with that perfect blonde hair just slightly tousled…

The roar of your hunger intensifies, and you can feel your fangs throb and start to emerge.

Oh no.

You inhale deeply, fingers digging into the seat of your chair. You lick your teeth in a foolhardy attempt to help yourself settle down. But the fire in your body sparks and burns brighter, your lust for blood and a certain CFO flaring with a vengeance. Your body is punishing you for daring to distract it with some cheap imitation, especially when the person that you truly want to sink your teeth into is just down the hall.

Ignoring the dampness between your legs, you take a series of long deep breaths in an attempt to calm yourself. Then, once you manage to get that burning lust to taper, you exhale a sigh, place your fingers on the keyboard, and force yourself to ignore their trembling.

You are going to finalize this proposal.

You are going to email it to your boss.

You are going to review it with him and finally put this project to rest.

Then you are going to climb into his lap and wrap your arms around him before latching onto that delicious notch between his neck and shoulder and…

Stop it.

You give your head a furious shake and force yourself to focus on the numbers on the screen. You are going to be done by 10:00 PM, come heaven or high water.

True to your promise to yourself, you work furiously into the night, but by 9:40 PM your blood withdrawal symptoms return with full force. The trembling in your hands has spread to the rest of your body making it significantly harder for you to focus. You're starting to sweat down your back and between your breasts and your heart’s rhythm quickens as the sweet ache in your sex only grows.

Intrusive flashes of your lewd, late night fantasies of Nanami play in your mind on repeat and the feeling of your elongating teeth scratching against your lower lip makes your actions all the hastier.

Almost there…

Through sheer force of will, you finish the last portion of your proposal ten minutes before your personal deadline. Breathing a sigh of relief, you quickly send Nanami an email, letting him know that it’s ready and that you’ll make your way to his office to discuss it. Only one nail biting minute goes by before he sends his reply.

“I have time now.”

You’ve never been more thankful for Nanami’s punctuality and curtness. Closing your laptop, you stand up and immediately your body sways. You grab the desk, steadying yourself as you’re suddenly demobilized by the onset of a pounding headache that swallows all sound and blurs your vision.

Shit, you’re going to pass out.

Tightening your grip, you try to focus on your breathing.

It’s okay. You’re okay. Just go in there and finish this. Then you can contact your supplier, go home and pass out.

You hold on to your desk for dear life and wait for your hearing and vision to return. Once they do, you thank all your lucky stars.

Knowing you don’t have a lot of time left, you grab your laptop and immediately make your way towards Nanami’s office. Your knees tremble with each step you take and you grip your laptop close to your chest for fear of dropping it.

Almost done. Just a little more.

You knock once you reach Nanami’s office.

“Come in.”

Clenching your hand around the doorknob, you take a deep breath to help steady yourself before opening the door and stepping inside.

The office is warm, almost cozy with its dimly lit atmosphere. With the exception of a singular lamp that sits on the far left of his desk, Nanami’s computer screen is the only other source of illumination in the room.

Nanami’s office is quite tasteful, with the exception of a few decorative items it’s filled with only the essentials that the man needs to do his job. Nanami himself sits at his desk, his brows furrowed as he pours over the documents on his desk.

Despite your sorry state, you can’t help but steal another moment to admire him.

God, he really is breathtaking, the dim light betraying you by slyly highlighting his best features. Combed blonde hair that beckons your fingertips, rolled up sleeves revealing the powerful, veiny arms beneath, his sharp brown eyes that never miss a detail, and those strong and chiseled features of his, Nanami makes you weak in the knees every time.

Standing silently at the door’s threshold, you wait for Nanami’s tired eyes to look up. Once his gaze meets yours, he exhales a heavy sigh. Your tongue swipes along the throbbing tips of your fangs as you watch him lean back in his hair, all raw masculinity and tempered power as he removes his glasses and rubs his eyes.

“Let’s have a look at it then.”

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you make your way deeper into his office, fingers clenching around your laptop as you pray for your legs not to give out.

The moment you reach Nanami’s desk, his warm and tantalizing scent hits you like a freight train. You can practically feel the steady beat of his heart on your tongue. The painfully throbbing ache in your fangs increases as your vision blurs again for another brief second.

Calling upon the strength of your willpower once more, you manage to suppress the raging hunger inside you for just a little longer. Your lips press into a thin worried line and without a word, you place your laptop on Nanami’s desk, turn it to face him, and open it to show him your finalized proposal.

But Nanami’s attention is focused squarely on you. Those brown eyes of his feel like they are slowly taking you apart and then putting you back together again. Maddeningly. Piece by piece.

You’re on the verge of screaming, or bolting out of his office by the time your boss glances at the screen you’d presented to him.

The wait is torture. You have to resist the urge to chew your lip, hiding your trembling fingers behind your back in a desperate attempt to conceal your distress. It feels like an eternity before Nanami’s attention finally returns to you. He pins you again with that intense stare of his, holding you captive like a wriggling insect caught in a spider’s web.

Then, Nanami breaks the silence and you are surprised to see both that intense stare and the harshness of his tone soften.

“You’re unwell.”

A statement, not a question. Nanami’s words are enough to freeze the words in your throat. He saw right through you. Of course, he did.

Desperately trying to save face, you scramble for the words to deflect Nanami’s astute observation.

“I’m perfectly fine.”

Wow. Phenomenal.

Nanami sighs, his heavy hand reaching up to gently close your laptop. Your eyes linger for a second too long on his thick fingers before your body stiffens at the thought of being caught.

The sound of a chair sliding against the floor makes your heart jump. Your breath stalls as Nanami stands up from his seat and circles the desk towards you. He stops his advance when your bodies are only mere inches apart.

Then he leans down and whispers,

“Don’t lie to me.”

Instantly, your senses come alive. You feel your fangs extend fully in your mouth as your eyes latch hungrily onto Nanami’s throat. His intoxicating scent, the thick muscle of his body, and the pulsing veins beneath his skin all have your mouth practically watering.

“You’re unwell.” Nanami continues. “In fact, you’ve been unwell since yesterday.”

Nanami hit the nail on the head. There’s no point in keeping secrets anymore. Twisting your fingers behind your back, you have no choice but to answer him.

“I uh—”

You pause and study Nanami’s expression.

He’s patiently waiting, his gaze unwavering from yours. It’s firm and solid, but beneath that stoic professionalism you can see a flicker of warmth and understanding. And even though you are currently in the hot seat—panicked and on the edge of being exposed—you also feel strangely at ease.

“I’m anemic so uh…just feeling a little faint. It runs in my family.”

Nanami’s expression shifts into one of undisguised doubt.

“Anemia. That’s what’s left you in this state?”

You slowly nod. Your tongue darts out in an attempt to moisten your lips before carrying on with your explanation.

“It’s not that bad, really. I’m just tired and a little dizzy. I’ll be able to finish up this proposal and then I’ll go h—.”

And then in an ultimate gesture of betrayal, your body starts to sway again. Your pounding head begins to feel light, sounds disappearing once more as your vision blurs and then goes completely black.

Fortunately, in the midst of all this you still have enough of your wits to make a grab for Nanami’s desk and steady yourself.

Unfortunately however, you end up missing the desk entirely and instead are sent plummeting into the awaiting arms of gravity. Or at least, you would have been, had Nanami Kento not used his own arms to scoop you up and keep you from falling.

The feeling of Nanami’s arms around you is enough to bring you back. Your vision returns and your entire body freezes as alarm bells go off in your head. You’re reaching your limit.

The heat of Nanami’s body radiates through yours, turning the blaze inside you into a raging inferno and reigniting the sweet ache in your core. Your fangs throb and your sex pulses as your arousal pools in that private little space between your thighs.

God, you want him. You want to taste him and fuck him so badly you feel like you’re going to go insane.

“You’re not fine,” Nanami’s tone is low, almost sensual. “You’re on the verge of passing out.”

“N–no, I’m—”

Nanami cradles you closer, shouldering the entirety of your body weight as he holds you steady against him. He guides your body towards his desk, leveraging you against it before securely wrapping his grip around your waist. Your head falls on his shoulder. Exhausted, you surrender everything.

“I–I’m sorry.” You whisper, fingers tightening around his biceps in an attempt to ground yourself against the rabid haze that’s taking over every last lick of sense you possess.

Fuck, he smells so good.

Then without a word of warning, Nanami abruptly picks you up and sits you on his desk. Your pencil skirt naturally rides up your thighs as he slots himself between your knees.

The next words that fall from Nanami Kento’s lips change your life forever.

“Eat me.”

Both your heart and breath stop for what feels like an eternity. Your eyes widen as your mind struggles to process the meaning of Nanami’s words. Eat him? What does he mean by that? Surely he can’t be talking about…

“W-what?”

Nanami leans in closer.

“You need blood and I have an abundant supply.”

Panic, hot and sharp, stabs right through your chest.

Holy shit. He knows.

You had taken so many painstaking precautions to conceal your true identity and had done everything in your power to make sure that your secret was kept safe. How did Nanami Kento discover it? Had you slipped up at some point? Or had you been outed by a member of your family?

The venomous words of your father, the ones that he always used to threaten you with, ring like a gong in your head.

“Careful. Don’t want to misbehave now do we? It would be terrible if the hunters got a whisper of your whereabouts.”

It all snaps into place.

Breathless and freshly teary eyed, you look up at your boss.

“You’re a hunter.”

Nanami’s jaw clenches, hard bone grinding beneath tight skin. Then finally, he nods.

“I am.”

You do your best to try and make a break for it, wriggling to the best of your ability out of Nanami’s hold. But the man’s grip is like iron and your body is too weak. All you manage to do in the midst of your trepidation is dishevel your clothing and bring your body closer to his.

Nanami silently holds you captive, his expression betraying nothing as he watches the rebellious little fire inside you snuff out, surrendering to the merciless gale of your starved exhaustion.

Only when your body stills does he speak again.

“Don’t be afraid. I won’t harm you. I will never harm you.”

Frustrated and distraught tears roll down your cheeks, your fingers grip and twist the pristinely pressed dress shirt covering Nanami’s chest. More lies. For once in your life won’t someone just tell you the truth?

“Stop lying to me. You’re a hunter. Killing vampires is what you hunters do, right?”

Nanami pauses, his lips thinning as he contemplates his answer.

“Yes.” He finally admits.

Your heart sinks, despair tightening your chest as the realization dawns on you that perhaps all the kindness and support that Nanami had shown you throughout your time at JJK Inc had been part of an elaborate ruse. Easing you into some false sense of security before finding the perfect moment to take you out.

And as you look at him, tightly cradled in his grasp and unable to escape, you wish that you could be anywhere else right now.

“If you’re going to kill me just do it already.”

A tired sigh falls from your boss's lips, his left hand coming up to rub at the bridge of his nose. You follow the motion, gaze lingering on the plains of his handsome face. The bags under his eyes are a bit more prominent than usual.

“I told you, I’m not going to hurt you.”

“Right,” You sniff, voice frail and taunt as you fight back against your tears. Nanami Kento is the last person on earth you want to see you cry.

“So said everyone else.”

The weight of Nanami’s grip leaves your side, and when you feel both of his hands gently cup the sides of your face, you practically melt. Nanami’s hands are warm and comforting and they soothe away your fear and despair. He regards you gently, smoothing his thumbs along the soft edge of your cheekbones—wiping away your tears.

“I’m not just anyone.”

Nanami releases you and you watch, spellbound, as his fingers reach for that signature leopard print tie. Your eyes widen and your heart pounds, the beat roaring in your ears as he loosens the flimsy article of clothing with a single elegant movement.

“Now,” His words are stern, deep. Undeniable in their finality.

“Eat.”

As Nanami loosens the first few buttons of his dress shirt, your eyes immediately land on the thick column of his throat.

“You—” Another swallow as the saliva in your mouth begins to flow and pool. “You don’t know what you’re offering…”

“I know perfectly well what I’m offering. Take it.”

Your body grows hot to the touch—near feverish as your arousal reignites. Your grip tightens, grasping at his shirt as you desperately resist the animalistic urge to just sink your teeth into Nanami’s thick flesh without a drop of restraint.

“Mr. Nanami…”

His hand reaches up again and he cups your chin, thumb gently tracing along your slack bottom lip, smudging the lipstick you’d replaced just an hour before. You shudder as his thumb precariously brushes against one of your exposed fangs.

“I’m embarrassed to admit that I’ve never drank blood from another person before.” You confess in a hushed whisper. “The rules around feeding where I come from are very strict and the act itself can be very…intimate.”

Nanami’s hand glides to the back of your head then down to your neck. His touch is electric–addicting–like a hit of pure ecstasy.

“You don’t need to be embarrassed with me.”

You shyly lick your teeth and avert your gaze to the glowing doorway. You’re stalling and he knows it.

Nanami leans down, the feeling of his warm breath caressing the side of your face as you teeter on the edge of unchained desire.

“Go ahead.” Nanami coaxes. “Eat.”

And with no more words, you arch your body upwards, open your mouth, and then sink your teeth into your boss’ neck. Nanami grunts, and the moment his blood touches your tongue every inch of you sings.

Nanami’s taste is unlike anything you’ve ever experienced before. It’s rich and warm, powerful and potent. Like a spiced wine only served to those with the most expensive palates. And as his blood flows your mouth it invigorates you with a heat that is as searing and as all consuming as that of the sun.

A lewd moan bubbles in your throat as you instinctively draw him closer, lips latching and sucking hungrily against his neck. Nanami responds with a moan of his own as he wraps his arms around you, holding you close and pressing the entirety of your body against his.

You cradle him between your soft thighs, hands reaching under his arms and around to his back so that your fingers can dig into the delicious muscle they find there.

Nanami’s heart pounds against your tongue, feeding you all the more as you deliberately press the swell of your breasts against him. The sweet softness of your panty covered pussy is next, and you’re so love drunk, so caught up in the moment that you don’t even think twice about rubbing yourself against the growing tent in his pants.

Nanami's deep groan in response to your actions makes your pussy clench. He leans forward, pushing you down until your back hits the polished mahogany desk he’d perched you on. His heavy hands slam against the wood as he climbs on top, steadying himself against the shuddering waves of bliss that tear through him.

Perhaps you’re taking a little too much…

With a pleased sigh, you release Nanami’s throat, kissing the little red wounds you’d left there before trying to pull away. But Nanami’s hand slips under your head, cupping the back of it and ushering you back to that bite mark.

“Keep going,” His voice is low and raw, rumbling like a thunderstorm on the horizon, on the verge of losing his restraint.

“Don’t stop until you’re full, darling.”

That sweet and genuine term of affection nearly knocks the air out of your lungs, and you can’t help but whimper wantingly. You’ve never wanted anyone like this before.

Staring into his eyes, your hands wrap around Nanami’s body again. Your fingers sink back into their rightful place along the muscles of his back before you tilt your mouth back up towards his neck.

Then, greedily, you sink your teeth back into Nanami’s flesh.

“That’s it.” He praises, lips pressing comfortingly against your temple. “Good girl. Take what you need.”

An intoxicating cocktail of love and lust roars inside of you, intensifying with each swallow. You’ve had your fair share of selfish lovers and cold sheets, but never anything like this…never something so hot and wild and that felt so fucking right.

Another wave of intoxicating ardor sizzles along your skin and your body responds by arching against him, rubbing yourself lewdly against his hard cock.

Nanami growls, the deep sound curling your toes as the hands he had rested by your head curl tightly into fists.

“Touch me.” You plead, licking a wicked stipe up his throat.

Cursing under his breath, Nanami pushes your skirt up to your waist, exposing your soaked cotton panties. His hands find your hips, tightening in a vice grip as he angles you just right before beginning to rut his clothed length against your pussy.

You lick the bruised bite mark on Nanami’s neck in apology before laying back down on the desk, arching and moaning as you’re overcome by the hot friction between your bodies.

You’re dizzy, blissed out and utterly intoxicated as you grind your sex against his. The hurried rustle of fabric and the stifled moans from both of your lips rises like the sweetest music.

Nanami’s eyes meet yours, a low groan rumbling in his chest as his hands travel up your waist. Abruptly, he pulls you down, forcing your sensitive pussy harder against his throbbing cock. You can practically feel him pulse between your folds.

Crying out, you grasp onto Nanami as he hikes up your leg over his shoulder, exposing you further before surrendering the weight of his massive body onto your smaller one. Pinning you deliciously on that desk and grinding against you with animalistic fervor, he makes you feel breathless and trapped, but oh so far from helpless.

“M–Mr. Nanami…p-please, don’t stop.”

“Not until you come,” Nanami promises, licking his bottom lip before popping his thumb into your wet mouth.

Moaning, you instinctively bite into the fleshy pad. When you catch a glimpse of Nanami’s jaw clenching, his eyes glued to the seductive glimmer of your fangs biting deliciously into his flesh, you nearly come then and there.

“Harder,” Nanami commands, snapping his hips against you and hitting your swollen clit with the head of his cock just right.

Mewling with pleasure, you sink your fangs into his thumb and Nanami shudders. The pleasured purr that leaves him is one of the most erotic things you’ve ever heard in your life.

“Good girl.”

He thrusts against you harder now and your combined moans harmonize as the two of you lose yourselves. The hot coil in your stomach tightens as you roll your hips, grinding against Nanami desperately while spreading your legs wider to accommodate his size.

“Suck,” Nanami groans. “Suck on me as you come.”

Eagerly, you suck his thumb into your mouth, eyes drooping with euphoria as the taste of his blood couples with the force of your oncoming orgasm.

“N–Nanami,” You whimper sloppily–pathetically—around his finger, drool falling from the side of your mouth.

“C–coming–I’m going to come—ah!!!”

Nanami pulls his thumb from your mouth, but not before gliding it along your lipstick smudged lips and coating them in his flavour.

Thrusting his hips against you one last time, he leans down and claims your mouth with his, swallowing your scream of ecstasy as you come in his arms.

“That’s it,” Nanami coos, the pleasured hum in his throat lulling you in tandem with the tender little kisses he presses to your lips “Hold onto me, baby.”

And you do, for dear life, until the last pulse of your pleasure fades and you’re left a completely exhausted mess on Nanami Kento’s desk.

The two of you stare at one another in that dim light, chests heaving and cheeks burning. Wondering if he came too, you look down at Nanami’s beige slacks. You almost die of embarrassment when you realize how drenched you’d made them.

“Did you come?” You ask him.

Nanami’s low, rumbling chuckle is your answer.

You’re about to protest and are ready to offer your body so that he can have his pleasure too, but Nanami halts your words by pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead.

It was one of the sweetest gestures you’d ever been gifted.

“Next time, darling.”

dividers by @/saradika

#nanami kento #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento x you #nanami kento smut #nanami smut #jjk x reader #jjk x you #nanami x reader #jjk nanami #jjk smut #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk fanfic #jellywrites

185 notes · View notes

https-songmingi · 2 days

Text

PAIRING —Hongjoong x reader

WARNINGS — smut, unprotected sex, sexual language, link

Minors do not interact

✧.* Keep going ✧.*

➛ Link

Y/N moaned, her eyes fluttering shut as Hongjoong's thick length filled her completely in one thrust, hitting her cervix and making her gasp. She let out a high-pitched squeal of pleasure, biting her bottom lip hard to avoid crying out too loudly.

The roughness of his hands on her hair and the firm grip he had on her hands keeping them behind her back. As she bounced up and down on his hard length, she couldn't help but feel the delicious friction of their bodies colliding together.

“Keep fucking going this is what you wanted…after teasing me all day…” Hongjoong growled in her ear, his breath hot against her neck. His grip on her hair tightened and Y/N whimpered, pleasure coiling tightly in her stomach as he angled her hips to hit that sweet spot inside her with each thrust.

The walls of her wet pussy clenched around his hardened cock, desperate for more and more of him. She could feel her orgasm building, like a thunderstorm inside her core, threatening to break through and soak him with her desire. Panting heavily, Y/N couldn't help but beg. "H-Hongjoong-ah…I'm close, I'm so close…I can't take it anymo-"

Hongjoong cut her off “Do you think you deserve to cum? No, hold it in," he growled, roughly tugging at her hair. "I'll tell you when you can cum, understood?"

Y/N whimpered, her toes curling as she tried her best to hold back her orgasm. It was hard though, so hard when he was pounding into her so roughly, taking out all his frustration on her body. "Yes, I-I understand," she panted out, her hips still swaying with his in tune.

As if sensing her mounting pleasure, Hongjoong sped up his thrusts even more, provoking a whine from Y/N's lips. He slammed into her once more before pulling almost completely out and then slamming back in again.

He repeated this action, making her see stars. The built up release was just within her reach, but she held it back as per his command. "H-Hongjo...joong-ah...I...I..." Y/N could feel her orgasm just around the corner, her walls spasming around him, begging for her release.

His thrusts were relentless now, and Y/N knew she couldn't take it anymore. "Please, I'm going to cum," she cried out, bucking her hips wildly against his.

"Go ahead, cum for me," he growled, slamming into her one last time. His fingers dug into her hips, leaving dimples as he held her in place while he filled her with his hot, sticky seed.

Y/N collapsed against him, her heart pounding in her chest. Hongjoong held her close, their bodies still joined as they both tried to catch their breaths. "Next time," he panted into her ear,"don't push me that far."

©️https-song mingi

Minors do not interact

#ateez #ateez x reader #ateez imagine #ateez imagines #ateez smut #ateez hongjoong #hongjoong #hongjoong x reader #hongjoong imagines #Hongjoong imagine #hongjoong smut

257 notes · View notes

absurdthirst · 21 hours

Text

The Empress and the Gladiator {Gladiator!Pero x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 14.2k

Warnings: Fingering, oral sex (male and female receiving), loss of virginity, star crossed lovers, mentions of war/death, vaginal sex, mentions of sex workers, rough sex, blood/gore, death, animal cruelty, gladiatorial games, pregnancy

Comments: Destined to become Empress of Rome, your heart has always been Pero Tovar's. When your father decides to host an gladiatorial tournament with your hand in marriage as the prize, Pero becomes the gladiator you are rooting for in the colessum.

A/N: With Gladiator 2 coming out this year, thots turned to Rome. While reader is Empress, no physicality has been described other than 'Roman'.

Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers

**Follow @absurdthirst-writes and turn on notifications to stay up to date on all new fics.

|| MasterList || Pero Tovar MasterList ||

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

“Pay attention.” Your tutor, Maximus, tuts as you stare out of the doorway to the courtyard. Your scrolls are messy on your table and the breeze through your hair makes you long to be outside and not studying the gods. You hear the clashing of swords and watch as Pero Tovar fights his mentor, a man named Julius, while his mother tends to your needs. His mother is your matron, taking care of your needs like your own mother would if she were still alive. After her untimely death when you were born, your father had brought in a matron while he searched for another wife. He’s had two more since your mother’s death but he claims to be cursed as both women also lost their lives during birth…and their babies. The sole child of the Emperor of Rome, you are in line to be Empress. Something that has never happened. The man you marry shall be by your side and your father had petitioned the senate to allow you to rule, for him to mold you into the perfect leader for the next generation. The senate had agreed and now, you spend your days learning about Seneca and Cicero instead of painting or strolling the gardens. You have been taught to read, you know the laws of the empire, and you have been trained in all manner of war. You are preparing to become Empress of Rome. You just need a husband. Turning your eyes away from Pero, you look back at your scrolls and continue your lesson. Little do you know that Pero is also watching you. His mother, bless her soul, was widowed by his father who fought for the empire. He lost his life in battle and the Emperor let his mother stay in the palace with her son to tend to his newborn daughter. Pero knows he will be sent to train with the army soon. He will fight as his father once did. However, he will be leaving his heart in the palace with you.

****

You walk through the gardens after your lesson, Pero long gone from the courtyard, and you are caressing a flower when you hear your name. “Why are you here alone?” Pero asks, his voice gruff and demanding, “you should not be outside without an escort.”

You huff and roll your eyes, aware of and annoyed by the fact that if you were a man no one would even question you walking alone. “I am in my own courtyard.” You turn to look at the older Spanish boy. Even if you have grown up together, he has filled out with muscle and grown taller over the past few years. “I am the future Empress and I can go and do whatever I wish.” You straighten your spine even though you know your father would not approve of being alone. Too many of his enemies would seek to use you for their own gain. You frown and look around, all the servants out of sight and no one nearby to hear you. “Why are you here, Pero?”

Pero stares at you for a moment, the moonlight reflecting on your face, and he can't help but be reminded of how beautiful you are. When your face is carved from marble and the coins are gold with your profile, he will be one of many to admire your beauty. Your moxie makes him bite his lip to smother a smile and he waits until your eyes fix on him. "I am taking a stroll. Getting some fresh air and admiring the grounds before I have to leave." He sighs, looking down at the grass beneath his feet.

“That’s right, you are leaving……” you frown at the reminder that tomorrow morning he will be leaving for the war that is being fought near Constantinople. You have spent all of your formative years around the man who you have come to view as more than a mere childhood friend. You’ve never seen him as a brother and now your heart quickens at his nearness. “Tonight is your last night in Rome,” you venture softly. “You should make the most of it. Most men would be visiting the taverns, or the whorehouses that I am supposed to pretend don’t exist.” His head shoots up, eyes wide and you smirk. “Or do you prefer the company of the men in the bathhouses?”

Pero raises his eyebrows and he offers you a wry smile, “don’t you know it all, emperatriz?” He chuckles and you snort, “I even know about Hispania.” Pero is impressed by your knowledge of the reality outside of the marble walls you wander in. It will serve you well. “To answer your question, I wish to spend my last night here since I will not be able to return. My barracks will be my new home and I will miss this palace…and you.” He confesses, his dark eyes meeting yours, “I have no need for wine or for women when what I truly want is right in front of me.”

Pero is handsome, his dark eyes seemingly even darker with the same emotion that makes your core throb and turn slick with need. You aren’t unaware of what happens between men and women, even if you are untouched. Untouched beyond your own fingers between your thighs when you lay in the dark, listening to the rustle of the wind against the curtains of your bed. “Pero….” You step closer to him, biting your lip as you inhale deeply, aware your father would have you beaten and Pero executed, but you don’t care. He could die, never to return, and you don’t want to live the rest of your life without knowing what it is like to be touched by him. “Tonight, the future empress will entertain you.” You decide, telling him boldly. “In ten minutes, climb to my balcony.”

Pero’s cock twitches under his tunic and he bows his head, “I will be in your service tonight, empress.” He murmurs, knowing he could be hung for this but it’s worth it. You are worth it. No longer the little girl who used to annoy him when he wanted to play gladiator with his friends, he wants the beautiful woman you’ve become. The oils you bathe in hit his nose and he swallows, taking a step back from you. He looks around to make sure no one saw him speaking to you alone and he strides off, knowing that you will be able to make it back to your quarters alone.

The slap of your sandals accompanies the rustle of your skirts as you hurry along the columned corridor to your quarters. Servants rush to bow, but you pay them no mind as your excitement has you eager to lock yourself into your room. Bursting through the door startles your servant, Corda. “My gods!” She huffs and you shake your head. “Fetch me a tray and wine, then you are dismissed.” You instruct her, making her jaw drop. “But-“ “No buts, Corda!” You hiss, taking a breath and smiling at her to not make her suspicious. “I know you wish to spend one last night with Gavros.” You hum, smirking slightly at her guilty expression. “Fetch my food and drink and then go enjoy yourself.” Her lover is also in the group that Pero will be accompanying to the war.

She bows her head and turns, making her way out of your quarters to fetch your tray and wine. She returns a few minutes later and sets the tray down. “Good night, my lady.” She murmurs, turning and shutting the doors behind her. The gauzy drapes are flowing onto the balcony as Pero climbs the trellis to swing his leg onto the balcony. He grunts as he stumbles but recovers to stand outside of your room. “emperatriz.” He whispers, hoping no one is in your quarters.

“Pero?” You look through the sheer fabric to see him hovering outside and push them aside to usher him in. “Come in.” You command, hoping no one saw him climb up. You don’t wish for the night to be disrupted and you know that if Corda is off gallivanting, no one should come to disturb you. Everyone is celebrating the troops leaving and you are happy that your father is busy as well. He steps inside your room and the curtain falls into place, giving you the illusion of blocking out the world. “You came.”

Pero offers you a soft smile, his hands suddenly damp. “Of course, hermosa. How could I not?” He asks you, “I am leaving tomorrow and if I don’t return, I want you to know…I want you to know that I would kneel before you as my Empress, as your loyal soldier, as your friend, and if you’ll have me, as your lover.” He murmurs, not touching you. You are pure and he could be killed for even being in your quarters.

Your body trembles at his confession, knowing that you feel the same way. He can be coarse and cross at times, but you love him. Reaching up to your shoulder, you unhook the gold leaf brooch that keeps your dress on your body. Letting it fall to the floor so you stand in front of him, completely naked. “Take off your tunic, Pero.” You command, lifting your chin. “I wish to inspect my soldier.”

His eyes widen at the beauty before him. Your body bare and his mouth is dry, his cock hardening as he takes in a sight that most mortals will never bear witness to. He kicks off his sandals and reaches for the hem of his tunic, pulling it over his head to display his naked body to your hungry eyes. He stands straight, arms by his side as he awaits your inspection.

You inhale sharply, taking in the hard planes and chiseled lines of his body. The rigorous training has taken the boy's soft body and turned it into the hard sculpture of a soldier, your warrior. He has given you the power and it emboldens you to step forward, reaching out and stroking the smooth muscle of his chest. Biting your lip when you feel it move under your hand and let it drop down to brush against the thick length that juts out proudly from his groin.

Pero groans under his breath, his eyes closing as he lets you touch him how you please. He stands still, not lifting his hands to touch you. You are in charge tonight, his soon to be Empress. You will have what you want because tomorrow, he will leave and this night will be a memory he cannot share with anyone.

“Beautiful.” You murmur quietly, looking into his eyes. “This is for me.” You don’t ask, because you know that it is. Your fingers wrap around his cock and you marvel at how hard and soft he feels in your hand. “How long have you thought of me?” You ask. “Do you think of me when you visit the whorehouses? When you sink into a woman?”

"Yes." He doesn't bother lying. After tonight, you will be betrothed to another and he will likely be killed in battle. He has tonight so he will give you everything, all he has to offer. "Every time." He confesses, knowing that he paid those women to be faceless, imagining you in their place. You jerk him and he groans, letting you touch him as you please and he prays to the gods that he holds off long enough to give you pleasure.

You moan softly, loving how he responds to your touch. His confession of thinking of you while fucking making your cunt drip. “When I slide my fingers into my cunt, I think of you.” You confess. “How you would feel, how you would taste.” You squeeze him slightly as he groans your name. “How you would touch me. You know of such things, you have touched women before. Can you make my body shake in pleasure?”

He nods, throat tightening with arousal as you squeeze him again. "I can make my Empress shake in pleasure until she can take no more." He assures you, "I have learned well from the brothels. I want to show you, emperatriz."

“I am supposed to be pure, to stay pure, until I take a husband.” You remind him. “But I will not be pure.” You let go of his cock and step back. “Because I will have given my purity to my love. The one who holds my heart.” You reveal softly.

His heart pounds in his chest and he reaches for you, grabbing your waist, and he leans in to press his lips to yours. He doesn’t want to hold back knowing he could die and never know your touch. He tilts your head to kiss you, sliding his tongue into your mouth, and he backs you towards your bed.

Now that his hands are on you, he is in complete control. You moan, reaching up and twisting your finger into the short hair at the base of his skull. You can’t do much with it, but you tug gently, wishing it was longer. “Pero…” you whimper when he breaks away from his lips to kiss down your throat. “Pero, please, make me yours for tonight.”

He grabs the back of your thighs, lifting you up to carry you onto the bed. He lays you down, the silk sheets beneath you and he hovers above you, taking you in. You’re gorgeous. Aphrodite incarnate. He leans down to kiss along your throat, his hand caressing your thigh as he settles between your legs.

You should feel exposed, vulnerable, but you feel nothing but the heat of his gaze. Again, your hands slide along his skin and you map the muscles. Knowing that tonight will be a memory that you will cherish forever, keeping it locked away in your heart. “You are so….sexy.”

Pero slides his hand along your thigh up to your breast and he tilts his head so he can dip down and take your nipple into his mouth. Your words make his cock twitch and his stomach clench, knowing you find him attractive. He loves it. He loves you. Your back arches into his mouth and he bites down on your nipple, soothing the sting with his tongue.

“Pero!” Your eyes close and your back arches up from the bed to his mouth. Every pull of his mouth shoots straight to your cunt and makes it clenches. “Oh gods.” Your leg lifts and you rub the back of your foot against his leg, enjoying the roughness of his hair.

He switches to your other breast, loving the way you cry out his name. “Shush, my love. The guards will hear you.” He warns you, pulling back from your breast and he presses kisses along your stomach, settling between your thighs. Your cunt, covered by curls, has him groaning your name. You smell like the oils you use and something tangy that has him moaning as he wastes no time surging forward to slide his tongue through your folds.

Your gasp is loud, catching your breath and making your breast shake. Your hands grip the sheets and you can’t believe that he is going this. You’ve heard about the pleasure to be had, but you’ve never thought that it would happen for you.

He flicks his tongue over your clit just as the whores had taught him. He sucks your clit into his mouth, his hands caressing your thighs and he groans at the tangy taste of your arousal. You taste like honey. He pushes your thighs further apart and slides his tongue down to push it inside of you.

“Oh fuck.” You moan, clenching your jaw before you have to lift your head and look down at him between your thighs. You had expected him to just take you, but he was surprisingly good at giving pleasure. “You should just stay and spend all day doing this to me.” You moan out the praise as your hips jerk up to meet his eager tongue.

Pero lifts his head from your cunt, his chin glistening as he smirks, “I would spend every day worshiping you if it were possible, mi emperatriz.” He assures you, sliding his tongue through your folds again and he sucks on your clit. His hand slides along your thigh until he’s pushing two fingers slowly inside of you.

His fingers are thick, so much thicker than your own. Making you whimper out his name again, drowning in the pleasure that he pulls from you as he presses them deep. “Yes.” You sigh. “I love you, Pero.”

He loves hearing you say that. His fingers stretch you out for his cock. He pumps them a little faster and leans in to take your clit into his mouth, sucking. He wants you to fall apart for him, to tell him you love him enough times to last him a lifetime because that’s what he will need.

You know that it’s wrong for you to give yourself to Pero. You should have saved it for the man who would become your husband, the man who would help you rule Rome after your father dies. You don’t care, your heart belongs to Pero and you want to give him a part of yourself you can never have back. You chant the words of love over and over as he works you up, until your entire body bucks with broken cry. Your cunt bearing down on his fingers and soaking them with your pleasure.

He loves the way you soak his fingers. Working you through it, he groans into your wet flesh. His cock is hard against the sleeping mat beneath you, and he is aching to be inside of you. He groans your name and kisses back up your body until his lips find yours and he slides his tongue into your mouth so you can taste yourself.

The taste of your cunt on his lips has you moaning, enjoying the flavors mixed tongue and you want to taste him too. “Pero-“ you whimper, making him pull away to look at you as if he wonders if you have changed your mind. “Can I do that to you? Suck your cock?” You’ve heard the servants talk about it, even watched as it happened in the shadows, but you’ve never done it.

Pero's cock twitches at the thought but he can't imagine defiling you like that. Just to touch you like this is enough for him to be killed and his soul to be damned by Pluto. "I am yours for whatever you wish, mi amor, but I must warn you that you cannot do too much otherwise this will be over far too soon." He has wanted you for so long, watched you from afar, and the thought of you touching him in that way already has his stomach clenching.

You push him onto his back as you decide to take his pleasure into your hands. “You will tell me before you find your release.” You say it like it is a forgone conclusion and lean forward to press your lips to his. Then breaking away to kiss down his chest, eager to see how he reacts to your mouth on him. If you only have tonight, you want to gorge yourself on him.

His breath catches in his chest and he watches you make your way to his cock, wrapping your fingers around it and he loves the lust in your eyes. He loves how much you want him. "Fuck." He hisses when you pump his length, the foreskin pulled down to reveal the leaking head.

You preen under his rough praise, feeling the way he twitches and pulses in your hand and against your tongue. It’s thrilling to learn that he enjoys this and you open your mouth wider to take more of his length down your throat.

You moan around him and he twitches in your mouth, loving how you feel surrounding him. You feel incredible. “Fuck, hermosa.” He grunts as you explore his cock with your mouth and tongue.

Giggling slightly, you pull off of him and decide to lick him. Making him groan again. “You must love this, all the noise you are making.” You know that he can be as loud as he wants, no one is in this wing of your home beside you. You tease him and then lick him again. “Tell me what you have imagined while a whore’s mouth is on your cock.”

Pero can’t believe how naughty you are for an innocent woman. “I imagined - imagined this. You. Your mouth wrapped around my cock. My cock inside of you. You. I wanted you while I was giving them my cock, my coin.” He confesses breathlessly as you jerk his cock.

You hum, feeling slightly jealous of them, even if you cannot have a claim in this man. He is free to do whatever he wants, with whomever. Now, you just enjoy the fact that he wants to be yours. “You have me, Spaniard.” You promise, ducking your head down to take him back into your mouth.

He loves hearing you claim he has you when both of you know you only have tonight. He groans when you take him deeper and his stomach clenches. “Hermosa. You can’t - I don’t want this to end too soon.” He chokes, not wanting to finish without making you clench down on his cock.

Reluctantly, you let go of him and kiss back up his body. “You will stay the night, yes? We can do that again after?” You know men can find pleasure more than once and you hope that he is also like those fools who like to brag about being able to rut all night.

He nods, "I will stay there night then I will go before sunrise. We cannot risk getting caught." He promises and pulls you up so he can kiss you, rolling you onto your back. "Are you certain?" He asks softly, nudging his nose with yours after he pulls back from the kiss, his cock pressing against your thigh.

“I have never been more certain of anything else.” You promise. “Not the gods or the Senate could make me change my mind.” Your hand caresses his cheek, the thin strip of a beard of his face slightly patchy with youth. “I love you, Pero. Tonight, make me a woman.”

He doesn't deny you. He can't deny you even if he tried. He reaches between you to grip his cock, pulling back his foreskin to slide the head through your folds until he is positioning his cock at your entrance. He watches you as he starts to push inside of you.

You expected pain and you expected nothing. You really didn’t know what to expect but the feeling of him filling you up is exquisite. Your mouth drops open as you moan his name again, your legs pulling back to take him deeper into your body and you know that you are forever changed.

Pero feels your innocence break and he pushes into you fully, making you his in a way no other will have you. He groans and leans in to kiss along your neck, taking a moment to let you adjust and he murmurs, "I love you."

You whine and wrap your arms around his neck. Closing your eyes and sighing softly. A piece of you is forever his and you know that your heart is his until eternity as well. You might marry for your position and have children, but your heart will be this Spaniard’s. “I love you, Pero.” You promise him. “Forever.”

Your promise makes his heart clench as he starts to move inside of you. He's in no rush. Not rutting into you like he would a whore he paid his coin to. He moves slowly, watching your face as you take him. You close your eyes as he adjusts the angle of his hips and he grunts when your walls clench around him. "Mi emperatriz hermosa." He murmurs as he kisses along your neck.

You know that he is being slow with you and it’s amazing. Making you feel every ridge and vein in his cock as they scrub along your sensitive walls. It’s love making in the purest form and you don’t want to let him go. Another soldier can go fight for the Emperor and Rome. Even if you know Pero would never agree to that, finding it to be cowardice. You have tonight. Wrapping your legs around his waist, you moan his name again. “Pero.”

Pero doesn't want to leave but he has no choice. He has no future here in the palace. He must leave and forge his own path. He has to accomplish something outside of these walls. He must fight for Rome and for the Emperor and one day, he will be fighting for you. His hand finds your thigh, lifting it higher so he can sink deeper and his lips find yours, sliding his tongue into your mouth.

Your moan is breathed into him, encouraging him. Letting him know that he is making you feel incredible. Your nails scratch down his back, not hard enough to break skin, but you wish to leave your mark on him. “Pero, gods, you- you are amazing. I have loved you for so long. Watched you fight in the courtyard and touched myself thinking of how you would touch me.”

Your words make him twitch inside of you and he groans your name, “always pumped my cock thinking of you. Fucked whores with you on my mind. You have my heart and I shall be leaving it here with you forever.” He promises, “you’ll have it until Pluto takes me.” He slides his hand between you, wanting to hear you cum one more time.

He is talented and you are lucky that he has been taught ways to please you. Making you moan again when he starts to rub the flesh above your cunt. “You take my heart with you to war.” You promise him. “It is yours, even if my body must be someone else’s, you had me first and you hold my heart always.”

Pero groans, rubbing your clit a little faster desperate to push you over the edge before he finishes. It’s overwhelming being inside of you and knowing that he will have to leave tomorrow, he is desperate to hear you cry out his name. “I’m yours, hermosa. I need to feel you.” He begs against your jaw as he presses desperate kisses there.

His words make your entire body tremble. You know your core is wound tight and the next time he plunges deep into your body, you shatter. Crying out loudly, your walls squeeze him tight and the liquid hot pleasure washes through you.

“Fuck.” He hisses as you clench down around his cock. He groans your name and tries to fuck you through it but he has held off long enough. It doesn’t take long, only a half dozen more thrusts, until he is pushing deep inside of you and filling you with his hot seed.

You close your eyes, memorizing how it feels and for a brief moment, you wish that you could have him stay and fill you up everyday until his seed takes root. Knowing that a child from Pero would be your favorite, even if he was a bastard. “Perfection.”

Pero kisses you, unwilling to move even as he softens inside of you. He murmurs your name and kisses you softly, caressing your thigh as you keep your legs wrapped around him. His heart aches knowing that this is the only time he will have you like this.

You catch your breath in the silence that lingers between you, both of you lost in your thoughts as you continue to stroke his back. “No wonder people love to take lovers.” You manage after a long moment. “If it is half as good as this, I know why the soldiers immediately go to the whore houses.”

Pero chuckles, “it isn’t as good as this because this is love making. The whorehouse’s are for fucking. This is love between us.” He knows that any man listening would hang him by his balls for being so soft but this is you and it’s your only night together. He won’t deny you how he feels when he won’t get to say it ever again.

“Oh.” You melt at how intimate it is, how romantic. It is like one of the great stories that is sometimes performed for the people. “We will never have this again, will we?” You ask practically, knowing that you could never love someone as much as you love Pero. You reach up and run your fingers through his hair. “At least we got to have each other tonight. Tomorrow you leave to fight for the glory of Rome and her Emperor.”

“And her empress.” He adds, nudging his nose against yours. He pulls out of you, groaning as he shifts to lay beside you before he pulls you into his chest and murmurs your name, “you will always have my heart. I will fight for Rome and for your glory.” He promises.

“Fight and live.” You urge him. “I hate the ‘die for the glory of Rome’ shit. I would rather you live. Live until you are an old man, gray in your hair.” You caress his chest and press a kiss to where his heart thumps in his chest.

Pero smiles, knowing it's unlikely he would grow old and even less likely he would grow old with you. He sighs and kisses your hair, "get some rest, amor. We have the night to enjoy before I must leave."

True to his word, Pero had taken you, again and again during the night. Rest only coming in small spurts before one of you was reaching for the other. On and on until your entire body aches with a secret hurt when the darkest part of the night passes and the faintest pink hue starts to gather on the horizon. The wine has been drunk, the food consumed and the water that is always available for you to clean yourself is dirty. Your eyes are gritty with sorrow and exhaustion as you watch your lover’s naked body begin to be covered back up as he dons his clothes.

Pero redresses while you watch him and he kneels on the bed when he's ready to go. He leans down to cup your cheek, leaning in to kiss you deeply. "Be happy, mi emperatriz. Don't wait for me. Find your happiness however you can." He urges, knowing he could never be with you. Your father would forbid it. "I love you. Siempre." He vows and nudges his nose against yours, kissing your forehead before he stands up straight and walks over to the doorway to leave your quarters. He looks back at you one last time before he sneaks out of your chambers, unaware that his mother is watching from the shadows.

Your eyes close on bitter tears after the door closes behind him, burying your face in the sheets you had shared with him. The scent of his body still lingers and you weep for the love that you know you will never be allowed to share with Rome.

Señora Tovar prepares your tray and carries it into your rooms, finding the silk sheets rumpled, two empty goblets and an empty food tray. There's no denying what happened here last night and she is glad she has prepared a tea. "Good morning." She declares as she walks into your room. She had dismissed Corda to prepare your tray herself.

You pull yourself out of the sheets at the sound of your lover’s mother, biting your lip to keep from crying even more. “Good morning.” You manage to mumble, your voice cracking slightly.

She comes over to you, setting your tray down on the bed. "I have prepared a tea for you, chiquita. We know you cannot afford for my son's seed to take." She speaks bluntly, "you must drink this and your secret will remain between us." She doesn't want to witness her potential grandchild be shunned by society. She wants the best for her son and her family, she needs to protect you as well.

Your mouth drops open in shock as you stare at her. “I- you- you know?” You ask, practically gasping the question and she chuckles softly as she shakes her head. “It was not hard to guess when I see my son sneaking out of your room looking like a man who has visited paradise and been banished.” She tells you. “He has been in love with you since you were children playing together and I know those feelings have never wavered.” You bite your lip, chin trembling. “I love him, too, mamá.” You have called her mama - like Pero - since you were young. She had been like a mother to you, but Pero was never your brother, even from a young age, your heart skipped a beat when he was near.

She reaches out to caress your cheek, "I know, amor. I know you do. He loves you too. You are meant to be together in another lifetime. Your souls will meet in another time. You cannot pursue him. It will mean his death. Let him go and keep last night in your memory, mija." She cups your cheek and offers you a soft smile, "now...drink the tea. It will ensure you aren't with child."

You don’t want to drink it, wanting for a moment to let his seed take root and defy everyone. Looking into her eyes, you sigh softly and pick up the tea. “I would carry his bastard proudly if he wouldn’t suffer for it.” You tell her before you take a sip. “I hope he comes home. Even if it can’t be to me.”

She sighs, watching you drink it. "I know, amor. You would both suffer. You know your father would never allow it. He would have Pero killed." She closes her eyes for a moment, "one day...you'll be married with a baby at your breast and you'll remember last night but you'll be happy and Pero...he will be shrouded in the glory of Rome." She hums, "you'll meet again and when you do, you'll be different people."

You know that you will not settle. You will have a man who makes you feel as Pero does or you will not take him as a husband. “Yes we will.” You hum sadly. “He will be a general of Rome and I will be her Empress.”

*****

"You cannot continue this juvenile resistance." Your father scoffs while you sit at the dining table, servants carrying food and wine to you but you reject the food and take the wine. "I do not wish to marry a man I do not love. Do you wish for me to be unhappy?" You hiss back and your father clenches his jaw.

"You have been a maiden for years. You should have married years ago and I am too soft. I allowed you to take your time, let you find a husband within our circles but you refuse. In the senate today, we discussed a way to ensure that the empress will have a suitable husband by her side. A tournament. I wish to have every eligible man fight for your hand in an arena."

You snort and roll your eyes. “Noble men would rather lavish their days away in the baths than fight, father.” You remind him, taking a sip of your wine. “Rome grows weak and yet you think I should marry one of them? What will they be fighting at? Who can belch the loudest?” You have had excuse after excuse to not marry, waiting for word from Pero as he is off fighting, but the years have passed and your father’s patience has given way to pressure from the senate.

"Not noble men. You need a warrior by your side. Someone who can assist you with battle strategy. You have not fought for our empire and you do not have the experience for war. You need a man beside you who can advise. You need a gladiator. I have requested the warriors of Rome to compete for your hand." He declares, "the General is particularly interested in your hand."

You grimace slightly but your father doesn’t see that. The general spends more time in Rome carousing than he does with his men in battle. You find him to be rude and demeaning, although you can never find someone nearby when he acts out. “Warriors.” You think of the warrior you would want and then look to your father. “Will all warriors be allowed, or only those you choose and rig the tournament with?”

Your father snorts, "I want a man who is battle worn and worthy of your hand. Any man can compete but it will be in the Colosseum and they will fight to the death. The hand of the future Empress is worth a man's life. He must die if he fails and you, my dear, will have the strongest warrior to be your husband, your partner after Pluto takes me."

Your brow raises at the news that it will be a fight to the death and you hum again, sipping your wine. “Sport will be had and a maiden won.” You snort, secretly pleased that you are not the maiden you pretend to be. “The crowds will love you for this, father.”

Your father hums, a smug smile on his face, "they will, won't there? We will send word to all that the best can compete for the hand of the most beautiful woman in Rome. The future Empress. May the best man win." He smirks, picking up his goblet.

****

Rome has changed since he has last been here. Pero frowns as he shuffles off the horse and groans slightly as he stands straight. He thinks of you, just he does every day and his eyes slide towards the palace where you would still be. “We got here just in time!” His friend, Octavious, slaps him on the back. “There is a tournament that will be held.” The barracks are rife with the news, every man boasting that he will enter. “The winner becomes the husband of our future Empress!”

Pero doesn't allow himself to react but he takes the scroll from his friend and reads the details. A tournament at the Colosseum - a fight to the death for the hand of the Empress. His jaw clenches and the scroll is ripped from his hand. His mother still resides in the palace caring for you. He will go see her now that he has returned and maybe he can see you. He situates his horse and makes his way through the bustling streets until he is at the palace gates. He grunts his name and he is walking through the gates to find his mother in her rooms. "Mi amor, you're home." She cries when she sees him, rushing to wrap her arms around him and he pulls her closer, holding her tight. He hasn't seen his mother in so many years and he's changed. So has she, she has gotten older but no less beautiful. "You're home." She grins, pulling back to cup his cheeks. "Mijo." She leans in to kiss his cheeks.

"Where is she?" He asks, "I heard about the tournament." He says and she sighs, "yes. She is not happy. This has been the talk of Rome. It will not begin for a while to allow warriors to return to Rome to fight." She reveals, "she is in her rooms."

Pero nods, kissing his mother's forehead. "I will be back, mama." He promises, knowing he needs to see you after being gone for too long. He remembers how to sneak to your rooms without being noticed and he's soon knocking on the door, heart pounding in his chest from seeing you for the first time in so long.

You sigh to yourself, almost ignoring the knock on the door. It would be Corda, having insisted that the servant wait for permission to enter your quarters if you were present. You are older and expect some privacy, a rarity here because of who you are. Setting down the wine that you had been enjoying, your sandals slap against the hard stone floors as you move to the door and open it. Making you freeze when you see a man in front of you. He’s familiar and yet so different. Darker, older and seemingly more menacing with a large and wicked looking scar bisecting his left brow. Evidence of surviving a nasty fight. The softness of youth chiseled away to leave nothing more than a fierce warrior, a man, standing before you. “P-Pero?!” You gasp, unable to believe that he is here. You know he is alive, his mother had kept you informed when she heard from him, but you are shocked by his appearance and your heart leaps with joy.

“Hola, mi emperatriz.” Pero greets you breathlessly. You’re just as beautiful but you’ve matured and you look like a leader. He offers you a small smile after a moment when you continue to stare and he knows he’s battle worn carrying scars - some visible, most invisible. “I heard about the tournament upon my arrival.” He confesses, “your father’s idea?”

At the mention of the tournament, you realize he is still standing in the doorway of your quarters for anyone to walk by and see. You know that it’s wrong, but you don’t care as you pull him into your room and slam the door behind him. He’s here. You have him back and now, with your father’s proclamation, there is a way for you to be with him. Instead of answering him, you throw yourself at him and press your lips to his desperately.

He doesn’t push you back. He’s seen war. Men die gruesomely in battle. Women and children killed. There were times when he wasn’t sure if he’d ever make it back. His hands grip your waist and he pulls you up against him, his tongue sliding into your mouth as he takes a taste of forbidden fruit.

Moaning, you press impossibly closer. Feeling the joy and passion you haven’t once felt since the day he left reigniting in your belly. You’ve not let another man touch you, remaining pure to his body alone. You know that he will have had other women but you don’t care. It had been your decision and now you are grateful that you had. Your fingers reach for the thick leather belt at his waist to untie it, not caring that he is dirty from the road, you need to touch him to make sure he is real and here again.

Pero knows he should push you away. He shouldn’t claim you again. Yet seeing you, how beautiful you are, remembering how much he’s missed you…it’s like he can’t control himself. He’s not gentle as he gathers your dress in his hands, tugging it up your body so he can caress your skin. “I missed you.” He kisses against your jaw as you push his tunic from his body.

“I prayed to Mars everyday to keep you safe.” You tell him frantically, your hands mapping his scarred body and you groan when your fingers wrap around his rapidly hardening cock. “I love you.” You declare breathlessly. “You said I should not wait, but I did. I have only been yours.” You confess. “Make me yours again, Pero.”

He groans, annoyed that you waited for him because you’ve given him hope. “I love you too. Never stopped.” He vows and guides you back towards the bed. “I’m not going to be gentle.” He confesses, his fingers sliding up your thigh until he’s sliding them through your folds.

“Don’t be.” You beg, knowing that you might be sore, but you will cherish the aches. He pushes you down onto the bed and you slide your dress up to your waist and hurry to unclip the shoulders. “I want my warrior to take the spoils of his conquest.”

Your words make his cock throb and he hisses when you expose your body. Your curves made his mouth water and he surges to dip down and take your nipple into his mouth while he settles between your thighs, gripping his cock to slide it through your folds.

“Pero…” you whimper his name, fingers digging into his longer hair and you love how you can tug on it slightly. “Tell me you didn’t marry.” You beg, gulping back a sob of pleasure when he bites down. “You didn’t find a woman while you were away?”

“I would not be here if that were true.” He assures you, “I wouldn’t betray your soul like that, hermosa.” He vows against your sternum and he starts to push inside of you. “You are still the woman I love.” He promises and you moan as he stretches you out.

Your eyes close and you feel complete for the first time in years. “Fuck.” You whimper, clenching down around him and making him hiss quietly. “That is what I have been missing.” You moan. “Move Pero, take what is yours.”

He doesn’t hesitate to start moving. No longer the younger version of himself making love to you. The desperate older man wants to fuck you, to claim you when he knows that you won’t be his to claim soon. He hisses when your walls flutter around him and he pushes deep when he thrusts back into you. His hand squeezes your breast and he nips along your neck until his lips smash against yours.

You feel the desperation and the need in his kiss, responding in kind. Your fingers drag out of his hair and you scratch down his back again as you rock your hips up to meet his frantic pace. “Pero! Oh fuck, Pero, you, harder- please, harder.”

He won’t deny you when he desperately needs this. He thrusts harder, his skin slapping against yours and his breath puffs against your skin as he pants your name. “So - so fucking perfect. Mi amor. Never stopped loving you. Fuck. I- I missed you.”

“Never stopped.” You gasped, arching up and moaning loudly. Unable to imagine anyone else touching you like Pero is. “Missed you every day. Every day.” You promise. Your body responds to his harsh thrusts and you feel your core start to clench down. Your fingers slide down to his ass and you grip it. Encouraging him as he pumps into you ever harder.

He grunts as you push him deeper and he shifts onto his knees, dragging you into his lap. His strong arms grab the back of your thighs and he lifts you up and down on his cock while he thrusts up into you. “Fuck. Fuck.” He groans, leaning in to kiss your shoulder.

You moan, wrapping your arm around his neck. Pressing your lips to his jaw as he fucks you frantically. You want this always, just him. “I love you. I love you, Pero.” You groan. “You feel so good.”

“Te amo, hermosa. I thought of - of you every day. Every fucking day I’ve been away from you.” He vows, thrusting up into you and his thighs ache but he’s desperate to feel you fall apart around him.

Every thrust pushes you closer to pleasure and you help him. Rocking down when he thrusts up, each one of you groaning and whimpering in pleasure. “I love you, I’m going to- fuck!” You cry out when he pushes deep. Throwing your head back as your cunt clamps down around him.

“Mierda.” He groans when you grip his cock inside of you and soak him. You feel so fucking good. “That’s it, hermosa. Fuck.” He pants, shifting to lay down and you shake as you shift to straddle him. “I want my Empress to ride me.” He orders, smacking your ass with his hand.

You giggle slightly, clenching down around him again from the sharp slap of your skin. Leaning forward, you press your lips to his as you start to rock your hips and moan into his mouth as you push your tongue to meet his.

He caresses your skin everywhere he can reach. Moaning your name as he watches you move on top of him. You aren’t as skilled as a whore but you haven’t done this before. Even with your hips moving a little rigid, he enjoys this far more than any whore he’s given coin to. His hands find your hips, helping you find a rhythm.

He moves you more naturally, making you moan as your tits are pressed into his face. “Pero…” your eyes roll back again and you hold tight to his shoulder as you follow his rhythm and ride his cock.

His mouth finds your nipple, sucking on it as he groans against your flesh. You’re so pliable and he loves how you take him inside of you over and over. Rocking back onto him, you let him control the rhythm and he bites down on your nipple before soothing it with his tongue.

He never wants to let you go. If he could stay in this moment, he’d stay like this forever. His cock twitches inside of you, watching as you take him over and over. His hands caress your back and he kisses up to your neck, aching to suck his mark there but he can’t, no matter how much he wants to.

“I want to feel you inside me again.” You pant breathlessly. “That feeling of your seed inside me was the best feeling I ever had.” You turn and press your lips to his, needing to be close to him in all ways.

He is selfish. If his seed takes and you marry another, his bastard will be killed. They would not allow a bastard to be the future emperor of Rome. His logic knows that it’s not a good idea but his heart and his cock desperately want to fill you up. His heart wins and he rocks his hips to thrust up into you, pushing you forward onto his chest and he wraps his arms around you. “I will fill you up. You’ll be dripping me.” He promises with a growl.

You whine his name and reach down to touch yourself, your fingers brushing against his cock as he rocks up into you. Stroking your flesh quickly as he groans your name, coming apart again with a soft cry. “Pero!”

When you clench down around him, he grabs your ass and thrusts up into you harder and faster, grunts escaping his lips as he seeks his own climax and it doesn’t take long. He hisses your name and clenches his eyes shut as he cums, painting your walls with his seed for the second time.

You moan softly, holding him tight and closing your eyes as he fills you up. The warmth spreads and makes you sigh in pleasure. “That’s so good. I love it, I love you. I want you.” You promise softly. “I- I want you for my husband.”

Pero sighs, stroking his fingers along your spine. “Your father would never allow it. Unless I win the tournament. I need to fight for you, mi amor.” He murmurs, knowing he could be killed but he has to try. He has to fight for his love.

You close your eyes, sighing softly. “Please tell me that you have become a fierce warrior?” You plead. Reaching up, you caress his face and press a kiss to the bottom of his scar. “I don’t want to lose you. I’ve lost you once before and now you are back.”

“I am a great warrior. I have survived many battles and it would be incredible to fight for a cause I truly believe in: you.” He murmurs, “I will fight for you. For us.” He vows, “and if I die…I will die knowing that I fought for us. For our future…even if I never get to witness it.” He whispers, knowing it’s a risk but how can he stand by and watch you marry someone else?

You don’t want him to fight, but if he wins, your father would have to accept Pero as your husband. “You will be the only warrior I will be cheering for.” You promise, kissing his cheeks and then his lips. “You will carry my love onto the sands and defeat all others for my hand.”

Pero nods, caressing your cheek, “for you, my Empress.”

****

He lingers in your quarters for as long as possible until his mother finds him after you are dressed. “Mijo.” She smiles, “you must go before the guards see you.” She warns and he nods, leaning in to kiss your forehead and he squeezes his mother’s hand as he passes her, knowing he cannot remain in your quarters. He must prepare to fight. “I shall prepare the tea.” His mother says and you shake your head, “no tea.” Her eyes widen slightly but she won’t argue with you.

It is a risk for you, but you don’t care. Emboldened by Pero’s return, you are ready to risk everything. “Pero is fighting in the tournament.” You hope she doesn’t get upset at you for making her son risk his life again in the deadly games. “He will win and then you will longer be a servant in this house.” You promise. “You will have your own servant to attend to you.”

His mother is not surprised to hear that her son will be fighting. She’s concerned that he might not win and she will lose her son and the woman she’s come to love as a daughter. You will not survive the loss. She offers you a smile and a nod, not wanting to voice her worry.

****

“I want to win the tournament without too many issues. You know that I am the best man to marry your daughter. Your general. I am fit for war and she will not know of the issues we face on the battlefield. You have sheltered her and she will be a weak leader. She needs a man to guide her.” Atticus, the general of three Roman army explains to your father as they sip their goblets of wine.

“She is naive but I have trained her well in all matters. It is true she needs a man to guide her in the subject of war. Perhaps you are the best candidate.” Your father hums and the general smirks, “then shall we call off the tournament and announce our betrothal?” He suggests but your father shakes his head, “no. We must show the people of Rome that the best man won her hand. You shall fight but let me make it easier for you. Let the riff raff kill each other and you shall be a late contender. You’ll have five men to kill. Maybe less. You shall be the victor.” Your father decides and the general grins, holding up his cup, “to the glory of Rome.”

****

Pero stands with his sword and his shield in hand, helmet on his head as he stands in line. There are many men here to fight for your hand and the hold beneath the colosseum is packed full of men eager to win you and the power of Rome.

The roar of the crowds fill the colosseum and you sit under the shade as warriors file out from the catacombs below to stand in the bright sunshine to bask in the adoration of the crowds. Blood will be spilt today and you wish that none would die, but the more violent the sport, the more entertained the Romans would be. Several from the senate come to greet you, but you keep your eyes on the sands, looking for Pero. He had said he would not fight with a helmet on so you can spot him. Ever since his return a month ago, he has come to your chambers every night to tangle his limbs with yours and leave you limp with pleasure and full of his seed. Your heart is twisted with worry and hope as you wait and look for your lover. Any moment now, your father will arrive to commence the games.

Pero remembers his promise to you to survive and win, and so he sets his helmet down before he steps up onto the sands and winces as the sun hits his eyes. The warriors line up, prepared to fight to the death for the hand of the future Empress. He’d heard many men talk about taking your innocence, leaving your blood on the sheets, and he had to stop himself from killing them before the battle and from revealing the secret he holds close to his heart. He was the one to take your innocence all those years ago. His eyes dart up to the stands where you are and his heart pounds in his chest. This is his chance. His only chance to win your hand and the approval of your father. With his blessing, you could marry and Pero would be by your side until he dies. Your eyes find him in the crowd and he stands straighter, watching your father raise his hand. The crowd goes silent and your father begins to speak. “Today, you fight for Rome, for her honor, and for the honor to be by her Empress’s side as a leader to all Romans. You must earn this privilege and if you fail, you will die. May the best gladiator win.” He nods and the crowd roars back to life when the battle commences moments later.

It’s an impossible task, pretending to be uninterested in the games when your eyes are riveted to one man. You don’t blink, don’t look away for fear of missing some small thing that could be life or death for the man you love. He is amazing, his speed and skill are obvious as he moves, his sword flashing in the sun as he cuts down his rivals.

It doesn’t take long for the first round to be over. Covered in blood and surrounded by bodies, Pero takes the chance to look up at you. You are watching intently and he knows he can’t fail you now. At least two thirds of the warriors are gone. “And now…we introduce a new element…lions.” Your father gleams with maniacal joy as the lions are brought into the arena. The crowd cheers and you gasp “no.” Pero growls, “fuck” under his breath. This just got more complicated but he will kill a fucking lion if he has to.

“Something wrong?” Your father turns and looks at you with a smirk, but you shake your head. It’s already a needless slaughter of Rome’s most capable warriors, but if you show favoritism towards Pero, you are almost sure the games will be directed towards taking him out. You don’t trust the general to not cheat and he has not even stepped out into the area yet. “The tall one.” You tell him, pointing towards a giant of a man with a golden crown of hair peeking out from under his helmet. “He seems like he would be a good husband. Provide me with strong babies to further our line.” You lie, knowing that you would never accept anyone but Pero into your bed.

Your father smirks, “he is not Roman, my dear. He’s from the west. He will not provide the line you wish to have.” Your father declares and raises his hand once again, “commence.” He orders and the warriors begin to battle once more but this time, the lions are released. Pero grunts as his sword clangs with another, the roar of the lion behind him followed by a scream of a man who gets chewed up. Pero’s heart is pounding but he fights, knowing that he can’t lose. You’ll be married to someone who would treat you like a servant when you are destined to be Empress. You need a husband who will support you.

Your heart sinks, knowing now that your father will cheat to have the man he wants you married to win these games. The servants behind you fan the Emperor and you against the heat and you know it must be sweltering down on the hot sands. You gasp when the lion closest to Pero takes a swipe at him, narrowly missing his flesh with those large claws. “Gods.” You mutter, clenching your jaw as another man is dragged down by the great beasts. A splash of blood staining the sands beneath the carnage.

Pero’s chest heaves and he’s covered in sweat. Blood streaked on his body but it’s not his own. The sun is burning but he fights to stay alive, swinging his sword over and over until he’s facing a lion. The lion roars and he grounds himself, swinging his sword. The lion swipes him, making him hiss from the gash on his arm but he ignores it, focusing on killing the beast.

Your entire body tenses and you lean forward. Watching the fight between lion and man. You see the animal cut into his arm and you press your lips together to keep from crying out. You know that your father is watching the games, but he will notice you. You pray to the gods that the lion doesn’t win as you watch the beast lunge towards Pero and drive him to the ground.

Pero scrambles to protect himself with his shield while the lion snaps his teeth at him. He struggles and he sees his life flash before him in that moment and he sees the future he’s losing. A future with you and he won’t let that go so he swings his sword, driving it into the chest of the lion who roars and swipes but stumbles to the ground. Pero pants as he allows himself a moment to regain his strength while the battle continues around him until it’s him and one other man. Your father holds his hand up and the crowd goes silent. Pero’s chest heaves as he looks up at the balcony, waiting for the next announcement. If it’s a fight to the death one on one, he plans to win. “We have a late contender.” Your father declares, “General Atticus throws his hat into the ring.” He announces and the crowd cheers when the gates open to reveal the General in his gleaming armor.

“Father!” You hiss in annoyance, knowing that Pero is exhausted after fighting for hours, while Atticus has watched from the stands and is fresh. He turns to you and smiles, “he will be a good warrior beside you.” He declares and you know that Atticus will cheat. He’s a snake.

Pero rolls his shoulders, knowing that he has to wait until the other man goes for Atticus. He can regain some strength. The horn sounds and as predicted, the other man rushes towards Atticus who easily takes him down. The man was exhausted as is Pero but he won’t lose. He can’t. Atticus smirks as he withdraws his sword from the dead man and wipes it on the sand. “Give it up. You can’t win.” Atticus taunts Pero who growls, chest heaving. The two men appraise each other for several moments and Pero waits for him to make the first move.

You are on the edge of your chair, a small scream clawing up in your throat when you see Atticus attack. The lunge and slash is too close and you see that Pero is exhausted. You grip the arms of your chair as your lover spins away from the general and puts several paces between them. The general shuffles slightly, feinting a move to the left but then goes right, Pero watching and moving with him so he deflects the attack easily. “Mars protect him.” You murmur quietly.

Pero spits onto the sand, his throat dry, and his muscles aching but he refuses to yield. The general smirks at him, “you will never have her. Oh, Pero Tovar, I have heard all about you. How you have been in love with her since you were children. She isn’t yours to have. She will be mine. Rome will be mine.” He grins and surges forward. His sword slicing Pero’s shoulder and your lover cries out in pain. The general attacks again, slicing Pero’s side and he’s exhausted. He falls to his knees, his sword in his hand and his eyes turn to you as Atticus raises his sword.

You lunge to your feet, horror making you shout out the secret you have been keeping from Pero the last week. “I’m carrying your child!” You scream out, “Fight, Pero! I love you!” The entire colosseum is deathly quiet, waiting for the death blow to be delivered, so all of Rome hears your shame. You don’t care. You just want Pero to live.

Pero’s eyes widen as your scream echoes in the colosseum. You’re pregnant. With his child. His jaw clenches and Atticus stares at him in shock, momentarily distracted, and Pero jumps onto his feet, swinging his sword and within moments, Atticus’s head rolls across the bloodied sands of the arena. The crowd roars to life and your father stares in shock as the general’s body is sprawled out on the ground, his head on the sands, eyes wide in shock.

Screaming in joy, you refuse to even look towards your father, knowing that you just ruined his plans for your future rule. Tears start to stream down your face, ecstatic that your lover has won and will now have your hand in marriage per the rules your father set down. The thunderous applause of crowds are deafening, their approval meaning that there is no way your father can change the rules again. “Pero! Pero!” You shout, the crowd picking up on it and starting to chant his name through the colosseum.

Pero pants, exhaustion seeping into his bones and he wastes no time in rushing through the stands, making his way to the balcony, and when he swings his leg onto the balcony, he reaches for you and pulls you close. Pressing his lips to yours, he sighs your name and smiles against your mouth. His hand finding your stomach between you. You can be together. Finally, your father smiles and applauds but you can sense his disapproval.

The people of Rome witness your fussing over him. The frantic kisses and the happy tears they swear everyone in the stands can see. Your hands grab his face to caress and coo over him, overjoyed by the fact that he won. The sands of the colosseum are littered with bodies and blood, signifying how hard Pero fought to win. “I love you.” You promise him breathlessly. “I didn’t tell you before because I wanted to surprise you after you won.” You admit.

“Hermosa.” He murmurs, “I will protect you until my last breath.” He vows, “you and our child.” The crowd is applauding, roaring with screams of joy and your father waves to the crowd until he gestures to you and Pero who takes your hand as he approaches the edge of the balcony. Your father claps as you raise Pero’s arm and your lover grins as it sinks in that he has won. “Your future empress and her warrior. They will be wed in two days time.” Your father announces and the crowd cheers once more.

“Come, my love, you need to wash and rest.” You coo and Pero nods, the adrenaline wearing off and he stumbles slightly as you guide him from the balcony to the chariot waiting to return you to the palace.

The ride back to the palace is quiet, neither one of you speaking, although children and dogs run beside the chariot. The children cheer and wave and the dogs bark as they race alongside the spinning wheels. You are elated that he won, but you need to keep him close until the wedding. Your father will be furious that you had slept with Pero, but hopefully your public confession will keep him safe. Once you are back at the palace, you order food and wine to be brought to the baths, intending on taking care of your lover yourself.

You guide Pero to the private baths of the emperor and yourself, the servants fetching the trays you requested, and Pero watches as you work on removing his armor. “You are going to be mine.” He murmurs, unable to quite believe it. You smile and continue removing the armor from his body, depositing it on the marble floor that surrounds the baths.

Once Pero is naked, you take a cloth and wet it in the water, washing his wounds carefully. “It will scar.” You tsk slightly, knowing that he won’t mind the additional marks on his battle riddled body. “Your victory will be the talk of the Empire for years to come.” You tell him, dropping the cloth and reaching for your own dress to disrobe. “Now you will reap your spoils.” You smirk. “An Empress, bathing you of your sweat and blood before she rides you. Sucks your cock like a common whore. Rome will be on her knees for you.”

Your words make his cock throb, already hard from the adrenaline, and his eyes take in your body. The knowledge that you are having his baby makes him inhale sharply and he groans your name, “my Empress. You shall want for nothing. I am yours. Rome is yours.” He vows as you take his hand to help him step into the warm waters.

The warm water is soothing and you know that your lover is thirsty, so as soon as he sits down you bring him a cup of wine. “My Spaniard.” You hum, holding it up to his lips. “My love, my future warrior and the father of my children to come.” You coo as he takes a sip.

He swallows down half the goblet and after you set it down, he reaches for you so he can cup your cheek. He presses his lips to yours and slides his tongue into your mouth, wanting to show you how much he loves you. He killed half of Rome for you.

You go willingly into his arms, wrapping yours around his neck and straddling his thighs in the water. Kissing him back with just as much passion as you can show him. You know that he’s both exhausted and invigorated and you reach for the cloth and soap. “Let me tend to you.” You murmur, kissing along his jaw as you pick up the goblet and press it into his hands to drink while you tend to him. “Relax and enjoy.”

Pero slides his hands along your back, enjoying the way you care for him. It’s tender and just what he needs after his body has been through hell and back. “Amor.” He murmurs, sighing when you kiss his cheek. The goblet of wine in his hand lowers slightly as his grip loosens. You start to wash him, his hair full of blood, and he watches you bite your lip in concentration.

You take your time, soothing his muscles with the heat and the wine. Knowing that the water feels good and being clean will feel even better. You might have been raised to be the Empress of Rome, but you want to take care of him. He has done so much for you. “My love. My brave and wonderful love.” You praise softly. “I was so scared for you. Even knowing you would win.”

Pero snorts, “you were that sure?” He asks, not believing you. “I know that you weren’t sure. Especially when those fucking lions came out. Your father…he’s a cruel man. Lions.” He shakes his head as you caress his chest with the cloth. “I thought I was going to fail when the lion was on top of me.” He admits softly, “but then you said you were with child and I couldn’t - I had to fight. Even if I was cut down. I had to try.”

“I’m glad you did.” You admit softly, leaning over and kissing his shoulder right above the wound he had taken from Atticus. “I would never wanted to be married to that man. He is just as cruel as my father, maybe more so. I have heard the rumors, and I’ve never liked him.” You soap up your fingers to wash his hair, knowing he will feel better when he is clean. “I missed my bleeding last week.” You explain quietly.

Pero's cock twitches at the fact that he has gotten you pregnant but he remembers the way you screamed it. "You screamed it for all of Rome to hear, mi amor. The people...they will look at you as...impure and I do not wish to have that. We must marry as soon as possible." He murmurs, closing his eyes.

“I don’t care.” You promise him. “I would rather be known as impure and have all of Rome know I love you, than to be viewed as pure and have to marry Atticus.” You sigh softly. “I want to believe Rome would be happy for me. They cheered for you.”

Pero opens his eyes, "they cheered for you. They adore you. Their future Empress." He murmurs, "carrying their future Emperor. They would be fools to cast you aside when you simply followed your heart." He groans when you rub your fingers against his scalp.

You smile as you watch him relax, his eyes closed and enjoying the sensation of your hands in his hair. “They cheered for us, for we are the future of Rome.”

Pero smiles, knowing that it’s always been you. He’s never loved another. His hands sliding down to squeeze your ass as he starts to harden beneath you. “I can’t believe I get to have you. I never - siempre - I always imagined I’d have to watch you marry another.” He confesses, “but now…you’re mine.”

“I am yours.” You promise, picking up a clay pitcher to pour clean water over Pero’s hair. “And as soon as I finish, you are going to sit while I ride your cock and bring you pleasure.” You hum.

“Mmmm mi amor, I would love to let you use my body for your pleasure.” He murmurs, tilting his head back to let you wash the soap from his hair, the blood washing away. His cock is hard beneath you, “mi emperatriz, full of our baby.” He groans, his hands squeezing your ass.

“Full of your baby.” You whisper, pressing your lips to his. “I refused to drink your mother’s tea after you returned.” You admit, wanting him to know that you had no reservations about carrying his child. “If there had been no tournament, I would have asked you to flee Rome with me.”

Pero sighs, reaching up to cup your cheek, “I couldn’t ask that of you. You have been raised to lead. I could never ask you to abandon your empire.” He sighs, “but I would’ve followed you anywhere.”

“That is in the past.” You reach between you to wrap your fingers around his cock and line up so you can sink down on him. “You will be my right hand, the sword and shield of Rome.” You predict as you slowly start to take him into your body. “Leader of my armies and master of my heart. My gladiator.”

Pero’s breath hitches as you sink down onto him. His hands find your waist and his lips press against yours once more. His tongue sliding into your mouth, and he savors his victory. He was nearly killed but he survived, he won. He can enjoy his reward…you.

****

“The general approaches.” Your servant announces it as if you do not see the crowds parting for the large retinue of soldiers, the crests of the regiment held high and the confetti littering the streets for the celebration of your husband’s victorious return to the capital. Your hand idly rubs the large, swollen bump under your breasts where his child safely lies. Kicking at the noise and feeling your happiness at Pero’s return. In the last eight months, your life has changed. You married Pero, ignoring your father’s unhappiness at the union since it was the best thing for Rome. Your father had passed away in his sleep days later, making you the Empress of Rome and your baby its future heir. Pero had been made the top general of your armies and had been dispatched to bring peace to your lands. Successful, he is now returned to you and hopefully, the expensive wars will be no more for a long time. You smile at the crowds, but your eyes are fixed on the noble figure of your husband as his horse canters up the streets, his dark eyes meeting yours.

“Gods, she has gotten big.” He murmurs to himself, riding up the steps of the palace where you are standing and he swings off of his horse as the crowds close in below you. A servant takes the reins as Pero strides over to you, his hands cupping your cheeks to kiss you deeply in front of the people of Rome. The crowd cheers and Pero caresses your bump. “I’ve missed you, emperatriz.” He murmurs, nudging your nose with his. “I missed you too, my gladiator.” You whisper and he smiles, waving at the crowds as he steps back to take your hand. “I need you now.” He demands, escorting you into the palace and you try to keep up as he guides you to your quarters.

Pero’s long strides eat up the marble flooring between the front of the palace and the quarters you had taken for yourself after your father passed. The furnishing had been replaced and the room to the side that had been used for his mistresses had been turned into a nursery for your future child. His eagerness to touch you has you giggling as you are practically dragged along the corridor. Despite your advanced pregnancy, it’s obvious that your husband desires you. “I have missed you between my thighs, husband.” You tease.

“I missed you more than you can imagine, amor.” Pero pushes the doors open, slamming them behind you when you’re inside and he wastes no time dropping to his knees on the marble floor and pushes your dress up your body. His hands caress your bump and he surges forward to bury his face in your curls, his tongue sliding through your folds.

“Pero!” You cry out in pleasure as your sensitive body reacts to his skilled tongue. You had learned so much about each other’s bodies when he had returned and you were sneaking him into your bed every night, but after your marriage, your couplings became even more blissful. Pero is an attentive and giving lover, you don’t doubt that he had been faithful to you while he was away for so many months despite knowing that others take their ease with the whores that follow the army. “Fuck, your tongue is so good. I have missed you beside me at night.”

He groans, missing your tangy taste, and he hisses as he flicks his tongue over your clit. Your bump prevents him from seeing you but he groans as you tangle your fingers in his hair. He’s dirty from the road but he doesn’t care as his hands slide along your legs, caressing your skin while he works you over with his tongue.

Pero eats your cunt eagerly, with a hunger that sometimes takes your breath away as he pushes your body towards pleasure. “Pero.” You whine, holding steady to his shoulders when he lifts one of your legs to his thigh to delve into you deeper. “Make me cry out and then I want you deep inside me, want to feel you fill me up again.”

He wants to push you over the edge. Sucking on your clit, he can feel how close you are and you tug on his hair. His cock is aching for you and he wants you to cum for him. He flicks his tongue over your clit and pushes it deep inside of you, his nose pressing against your clit.

Your stomach heaves and your fingers dig into his hair and tug when you come apart. “Pero!” You scream his name, your eyes rolling back as you soak his tongue in your pleasure. It makes your legs tremble and threaten to buckle but you know his strong arms will keep you upright.

He grips your ass, keeping you upright, and he works you through it, loving the way you moan as you come back down to earth. He caresses your skin and lowers your leg back down. “Come on, amor. I want to be inside of you.” He stands up and takes your hand to guide you over to the bed. He unclips his breast plate and sets it down, his leather tunic swaying as he works on untying it to expose his body to your eager eyes.

“My love, my gladiator.” You moan, his strong body always making you feel desperate for him. He is still strong, even if he is not as lean as he was when he had left you before when you were nearly still children. His cock is hard and jutting out proudly, making you moan. “After you have bathed, I want to be on my knees for you again. Have you sit on the side of the baths while I take you down my throat.”

Pero knows he won’t win if he argues with you that you shouldn’t do that in your condition so he doesn’t protest. “Hands and knees, mi amor.” He knows that’s the most comfortable position for you right now. He kneels on the bed as you shift onto your hands and knees, the baby bump beneath you as your toes dig into the bedding. Pero pumps his cock as he shuffles closer and he positions himself at your entrance before he starts to slowly push inside of you.

Your eyes close, cunt squeezing him tight as you moan his name. You’ve never had another lover but you know that no one else would be as good as your husband. He twitches inside you, making you whimper. “I want it hard, Pero.” You beg. “It won’t hurt me and I crave the ache.”

His hands caress your back down to your ass, pushing your dress higher to expose more of you and he groans when your walls flutter around him. “I love you. Mi emperatriz.” He vows, “I am yours. I serve only you.” He promises and he rocks into you a little harder like you want.

You moan quietly, loving how he adores you. Anyone else would have been hungry for what power you could provide to him, but Pero doesn’t care about that. You are his priority. “I love you.” You gasp out. “You are my Emperor. I give everything to you.”

Pero groans, leaning over you to press his lips to your neck. “I love you. You are everything.” He never wanted to be Emperor. He never wanted the power. He only wanted to be with you, to have you. Even if it meant running from Rome. You’re his life. “My Empress.” He murmurs, rocking into you a little faster, his hand sliding down your bump until he’s pressing his digits against your clit.

You moan his name again, frantic to cum around his cock after so long without him. Pleasure rockets through you and you push back against his thrusts eagerly. “Pero- Pero, I’m going to cum!” You cry out, seconds before stars burst behind your eyes and you clamp down around his length.

He grits his teeth when your walls grip him. He fucking loves it. He’s missed you so much. This is why he could never fuck a whore. No one has ever made him feel like this. He pants against your back as he rocks into you, “fuck. I- I’m gonna fill you up.” He grunts, pushing into you a half dozen more times until he cums, painting your walls with his hot seed. “Te amo.” He pants, breathing you in.

“I love you too.” You slowly roll to your side, Pero still buried inside you so he can stroke your belly and both of you can relax. “You are home now. No more wars until our second child is at least five.” You hum, knowing the people of Rome are tired of costly wars.

“Your empire is secure. Your people love you. We shall be legendary. Our family, our children will be remembered forever.” He murmurs, caressing your belly and he kisses your forehead. “You are my Empress. I would die for you. I would kill for you.” He vows and you stroke his cheek. He already killed for you. Your gladiator. You and Pero were always meant to be and the history books will write of your epic love story. The Empress and her Gladiator.

#pedro pascal #pero tovar #pero tovar x reader #pero tovar x you #pero tovar x f!reader #pero tovar smut #Pero Tovar imagine #pero tovar fanfiction #gladiator!pero tovar #gladiator au

153 notes · View notes

wonwoosthetic · 2 days

Note

Hi! So I have a newer idea for Daryl that popped up in my mind while shopping today. It's 100% okay if you don't want to write this, though! It is kind of long so I completely understand if you don't feel like writing this 💜

Basically, Daryl meets reader, aka Shane's fiancé, at the quarry and could instantly notice how toxic Shane was to her. She wasn't allowed to really talk to any of the guys in the camp and was forced to do most of the laundry to keep her from interacting with the rest of the group. However, one day while Shane's off doing you-know-what with Lori, Dale sends reader to go hunt with Daryl with a compound bow that he'd found. To Daryl's surprise, she's amazing at hunting and they have a little convo about Shane. They then stumble across Shane and Lori going at it like rabbits but silently retreat, not making a scene. Back at the camp, when Shane returns, reader simply just places the ring back in his hand and tells him they're over. Being free to do what she wants, she starts getting closer with Daryl over the next month or so, and when they get to the CDC, her and Daryl have this cute moment with a few people watching them and then Glenn, in his drunken stupor, makes a comment about what a cute couple they are. Cue the sudden realizations from both sides that they like each other. Can end with a confession or not. <33

a/n – first of all, to everyone who reads this: you better check Krys out! I am absolutely IN LOVE with everything she writes (Daryl and Hazel is my favourite but literally everything is a masterpiece!) second: to get a request from one of my favourite authors on this app here is an ABSOLUTE HONOUR and I truly truly hope that I could somehow reach your expectations!!!! Thank you so much for sending me it, and I really hope you and everyone that reads this enjoys it ˙ᵕ˙ thank you for marking my start in writing for Daryl now too!😊

A little side note: surprise, I still can’t write short stuff, but bc tumblr is a bitch and is messing with long stuff I post, I decided to make 2 parts, so I can truly involve everything I planned, I hope that’s okay!!🤍🤍

masterlist

word count – 7.4k

pairing – daryl dixon x fem!reader, shane walsh x ex!fem!reader (rarely)

warnings – cursing, mentions of sex, infidelity, toxic man

Don‘t Talk To Strangers Or You Might Fall In Love – Pt. 1

Later in the evening, the women gathered down at the quarry once again. With each holding onto a basket of some sort, carrying the laundry of the rest of the camp residents, they had found their usual spot by the water. Their hands were already starting to get wrinkly by the amount of clothes they had to wash - it had only been a couple of days, and there was already a pile of it.

A wince from the oldest woman of the group made all three heads snap towards her, their eye following her carefully.

"Everything okay?" Jacqui asked, stopping mid-movement before she set down the soaked t-shirt she was holding.

Carol was quick to brush off her concerned tone, sending the woman a quick tight smile as she re-adjusted her position on the ground.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," she cleared her throat. "Just... a stone."

The other women shared a quick knowing look. Yes, the surface they were sitting on was mostly stone, but not enough to get hurt or even wince the way Carol just did. She must've hit one of her bruises against the hard ground. One of the many that decorated her skin. While some of them she had clearly been able to hide underneath her clothing, the women couldn't help but notice the ones on her arms. And while some seem to fade, it didn't take much longer for new ones to appear just a day later.

"You know," Amy jumped into the conversation. "You... you don't have to share a tent with him." Everybody immediately knowing, who she meant. "You could stay in the RV, or-"

"I'm okay, Amy. Please." Carol's tone made the younger woman stop again, going right back to the task at hand. While you had hoped you'd go back to finish off your work in silence, Jaqui had other plans as she raised the volume of her voice to reach you, who was sitting a little further off.

"Well, speaking of shitty husbands." Getting a scoff out of the older woman. "Where's Shane, Y/N?" A chuckle erupted from Amy.

"Huh?" Your head shot up at the mention of his name. You found three awaiting pairs of eyes fixed on you, sending an uncomfortable rush down your spine.

"Where's your husband?" Amy repeated the question, her voice holding a slightly more gentle tone.

"He's not my husband. Just... fiancé." You shrugged. "I don't know...," mumbling as you were almost too embarrassed to admit. "He said something about going hunting."

Jacqui let out an annoyed huff of air. "That was hours ago. It's getting dark soon, doesn't he think-"

"I trust him to know how to keep himself safe. He knows what he's doing," you told her mindlessly, pouring the now dirty water back into the river in front of you.

You knew how most of the group felt about Shane. He had declared himself as the leader of your little group, thinking his status as a sheriff made him the right fit despite some of the eye-rolls and annoyed sighs it had gotten from the rest in return. It didn't seem to bother him, not even a little bit. You had tried to defend him, wanting to explain his plan of action and knowledge to the others, but he had shushed you down quickly. His own stance was enough for him to stand in front of the group of people, promising to lead them well and try to figure out how to move forward in the, what you'd now call, apocalypse.

While he was securing his place as the tough leader, commanding each person around and giving them a set role in the group, you had tried to find a sense of community. If you were to go and travel further with these people, might as well try to create some form of comradery. But that was brought to a halt before you could even truly start. By Shane.

'They're not your friends. They're just random people. We don't know them and we don't gotta know them.' He had told you. You had tried to start an argument, wanting to explain that while you didn't know most of them just yet, you might as well start now if you're going to spend more time in an enclosed area with them.

'Let's keep an eye out for Lori and Carl. She just lost her husband, for God's sake.' He never really explained just how he knew that Rick was officially dead, but the two members of the Grimes family seemed to be his only concern. The fact that you had known Glenn for a while now and considered him a close friend, almost a younger brother, didn't even register with him. He was just 'another dirty man, just like the rest of them' to Shane. He had made his opinion of the members of your group very clear. They're strangers. If it wasn't about Lori and Carl, it wasn't important. Why you were the one washing their clothes though was still beyond you though.

Jacqui was just about to open her mouth again, not wanting to drop the topic of conversation just yet, but a loud voice from up the quarry got your attention.

"Ya just don't give a shit, ya old bastard!" Daryl's uncanny accent echoed through the open area.

While a deep sigh tumbled from Carol's lips, Amy tried to ignore the fight a few feet away from you and Jacqui shook her head.

"These Dixon brothers, I swear to God... I don't understand why we haven't made them leave yet."

"Daryl's a good hunter," Amy commented quietly with a slight shrug.

"Yeah, and selfish," the older woman spat back, "And Merle? He's nothing but dragging everyone here down."

You decided to leave the scene in silence, not wanting to add anything to the conversation. You believed that everyone had a good reason for acting and behaving the way they were. You'd like to think that your good nature was part of the reason why Shane fell in love with you. Your years of dealing with children coming from troubled families had taught you that there's mostly good in almost everyone, just that most hadn't had the chance to find that side of them yet. In some ways, the Dixon brothers' attitudes reminded you of them.

Back in the camp, you brought the washing bowl back to where the rest of the clean laundry was already hanging to dry. Before you could go any further, hoping to find some alone time in your tent, Dale's voice made you stop.

"Y/N!"

You looked up at the top of his RV, where he had secured a chair, a small table and an umbrella to keep the sun from frying his skin.

"Hey, Dale," you smiled at the older man, who copied your facial expression. While some had come to find him to be a 'typical grumpy old man' - and by some you mean Shane - you and Dale had gotten closer over the short time you had spent in the group. He reminded you of your dad, who at that point in time was God knows where. You hoped he found a group similar to yours and was trying to find his place in the world you would now be living in.

"You know how to use a bow and arrow, right?" He asked you, remembering the story you had told him.

You nodded, shielding your eyes with one hand as the sun was starting to make them hurt. "My dad taught me a little, why?"

"Look what I found," he grinned before turning around to pick something up. He crouched down, now with a compound bow in his grip as he tried to get it down to you. With quick steps, you got closer, your eyes brightening up at the sight.

"Oh my god... Dale!" Your smile only widened once you got your hands on the bow. You let your hand glide over the metal, finding it to be heavier than expected. It was still in perfect condition, but you couldn't even finish admiring it before your eyes found another item being dropped down at you.

"Those were next to it," Dale added as he handed you a bag holding multiple arrows that were hopefully supposed to go with the bow. He watched your smile as you couldn't take your eyes off the archery tool. "You think you know how to handle that thing?"

"I mean... my dad taught me how to use a longbow, but... can't be that hard, right?"

The older man couldn't even answer you as a scoff erupted from behind you, followed by the familiar scruff voice of Darly.

"Ya think it's that easy." Stating it more than wondering. Knowing not to start a conversation with him unless truly needed, only able to imagine how Shane would react if he found you talking to him, you decided to ignore his comment, focusing back on Dale who seemed to have done the same.

"Where did you find it?" You asked him.

"Oh just... from a house a few minutes away. Thought you could use it."

"I don't know when yet, but... I'll try," you smiled at him.

"How about you go and try it out now?" He suddenly asked you.

His question made your head shoot back up to look at him in wonder. "Now? What do you mean?"

He sighed. "It's gonna get dark soon and Shane and Lori aren't back yet, we should try-"

"Lori?" Her name fell from your lips as you glanced around the area, only finding the youngest Grimes sitting in the grass, entertaining himself with some sticks and stones. "Where is she?"

Dale shrugged. "Said something about finding berries and whatnot-" Another scoff from behind you made him stop to shoot Daryl an annoyed glance. "I think we should try to at least get something to eat for the kids. And if they're not back anytime soon, they won't have dinner."

"What? My huntin' skills ain't enough for you, old man?" The younger Dixon brother shot up from his crouched position on the floor, nudging his head up at Dale, who was clearly annoyed by his attitude.

"A squirrel isn't gonna feed an entire group. Take Y/N with you and try finding something."

"Dale-"

"Shane's not here, honey," he immediately stopped you, apparently already knowing what your argument would be. "I think he'll be okay, knowing you were out finding something to eat for the kids."

"That asshole would rather watch 'em kids die than send her huntin' with any of us!" Daryl spat back, ignoring you standing right next to him.

He turned your head towards him. "Don't talk about him like that." Speaking to him in a much softer tone than he just did, only getting a shake of his head and an annoyed mumble in return before he turned his back towards you, making his way towards the woods. A quick glance back up at Dale made him nudge his head towards the direction the archer had just disappeared into. You could either get sulky and refuse to go with the man who had clearly other interests than to go hunting with you or you could be the bigger person and focus on bringing something into the community. Even if that meant rebelling against your partner's order to stay at the camp and focusing on the laundry in the quarry. You decided on the latter, knowing that he'd find something to get annoyed at one way or another.

With a sigh, you nodded to Dale's proposal and swung the bag of arrows over your shoulder. Turning around to follow the way Daryl had just strutted, your eyes found his silhouette already between the trees. It was uncanny. Anyone could tell it was him. His zero-fucks attitude and his arms just casually hanging by his side- The pop of his hips with each step he took just underlined the sass that man possessed almost making you chuckle.

Unlike a lot of the other members of the group, you didn't necessarily dislike him. His brother was a totally different subject. They were difficult to deal with and most definitely not the teamwork type of personalities - not directly at least. You had noticed the multiple times Daryl would vanish from sight, only to come back a few hours later with a few dead squirrely thrown over his shoulder, that he would then give to the group after skinning them. It was absolutely disgusting, to say the least, but he did his part to be a valuable part of the community, even if he might had been a unique character and more challenging to deal with.

What Merle's issue was, you had yet to discover, but the man didn't intrigue you enough to bore into his background story.

A good few minutes in, you still hadn't caught up with the archer, his steps being way bigger and faster than yours. Panting, you hoped he would hear you.

"Can you slow down for a second? Please."

Not following your words, Daryl kept up his pace, only turning his head slightly. "Don't need yer husband to see us together out'ere or we'll be the ones rotatin' over the fire instead of a dear."

You couldn't help but roll your eyes at his comment, even scoffing loudly at what you had just heard, and mumbling too quietly for him to hear.

Your reaction made him suddenly stop in his tracks and turn his entire body towards you. "What? Ya think I'm kiddin'? I seen the way he talks to ya and everyone else in that godforsaken camp. Treats everyone like shit if it ain' abou' that woman or the kid."

Your glare didn't even intimidate him a bit. Neither did he budge when you took a daring step closer to him.

"How about you focus on yourself and stay out of other people's business? He's trying to be a leader, alright?"

"More like tryna be a dictator. Mussolini woulda loved him." Without another word, he turned around to continue his way further into the woods, leaving you in slight surprise rooted into the ground. A shake of your head and a deep breath brought you back into the present, making you follow him again. You tried to keep the distance between big enough to keep him away from you, let close enough to still have him in view - you sure as hell weren't going to get lost in the middle of the woods.

Looking down to be careful about each step you took, you held onto the strap across your chest. With your view on the ground, you didn't notice Daryl having stopped again, making you suddenly bump into him.

"Oh- sorry." You took a quick jump back.

He had lifted up his arm to the side, keeping you from going any further. Only after looking up, you could follow his gaze, finding what had gotten the archer so enthralled. Between the bushes surrounding you ahead on a tree, there were two chipmunks perked up on a branch. They hadn't noticed you yet and if it hadn't been for Daryl's eagle eye, you had to admit, you would've overlooked them as well.

Suddenly, overly confident, you realised this was the moment you could prove your skill. A skill you hadn't trained for in a few months, but you had long enough training before that, you believed. Swiftly, you grabbed a bow from the bag on your back and took a slow step back, careful not to make any loud noise to disrupt the two animals. Daryl had his crossbow already sitting on his shoulder, his eye trained on the chipmunks as he kept totally still.

"On three," you whispered as you drew the bow in your grip. You couldn't see the archer's slight confusion as he didn't budge, only knowing he had heard you when he suddenly started counting down. As soon as the number 'three' left his lips, you let your arrow shoot through the sky, him going at the exact same time, pressing the trigger on his crossbow. The two bows hit the chipmunks perfectly in sync, making them fall from the branch and onto the floor.

"Yes!" You whispered to yourself in a cheer, brushing past Daryl with a wide smile on your face as you made your way over to where your prey was waiting for you.

The man continued to stand still, only his eyes following your movements as his eyebrows scrunched together in confusion. Only a few seconds later, he found you standing up straight again, proudly holding up one of the chipmunks. He followed your steps, coming to a stop as he looked down at the other animal still on the floor.

"Was that beginner's luck or...?" He asked you as he gathered it off the ground and took out his arrow before taking its companion out of your hands to put both of them into the small bag he had secured by his hips. Your eyes drifted to his arms. Glistening in the sun behind you. He had been collecting dirt all over his body, but the sweat now on his biceps was making it look only half as bad.

You shrugged, not even trying to hide the small smile still on your lips. "Maybe a little since I haven't used one of these in a while," holding up the compound bow.

"Who taught ya?" In surprise, you glanced at him, not expecting to continue the conversation as you went back to resume your hunting journey through the woods.

"My dad."

You noticed his steps suddenly slowing down again, making you turn towards him in wonder. A finger brought up to his lips told you everything you needed to know. Daryl started looking around carefully, while you just turned in a circle, wondering what he had heard. And then you saw it. A 'geek', as Glenn had labelled them, was making its way towards you.

"How on earth did you hear that?" You whispered at him, but the archer just propped his crossbow up again, ready to take out the thing coming dangerously close towards you. The noises coming from the dead had only then started to register with you too. Maybe it was your hearing turning on you or maybe Daryl had just a trained ear. Realising that he was close to shooting again, you stopped him with a hand.

"Can I?"

With a careful look, he lowered his weapon again, motioning for you to go ahead, bringing a small grin to your face. His hand was quicker than yours as he pulled out a bow from your bag, handing it over to you before leaving you to do your thing. Drawing it tightly, you didn't let a lot more seconds pass before sending the arrow straight through the geek's eye.

"Fuck, yeah-" Grinning to yourself for a split second before you realised the words that had dropped from your tongue. "Sorry," you were quick to apologise, getting a look of pure confusion from Daryl in return.

"What? Ya not allowed to curse or somethin'?" Oh, if he only knew. After years of being with Shane, you had found yourself truly swearing off the usage of any curse words as your fiancé had labelled them 'unladylike', sending you a look of disapproval each time it would escape you accidentally. Strict looks had turned into warnings, which then turned into arguments, so you had just learned to bite your tongue.

You were about to head up to get it back, back Daryl's voice stopped you.

"Stay'ere." He walked past you towards the now truly dead thing to get your arrow back. After ripping it out of its head again, he took a good look around, turning his entire body before coming back to you.

"They're usually not alone," he pushed the arrow into your hands. "Let's see what else we can find and get the hell outta 'ere before it gets dark."

You just nodded in agreement before following him again. This time, you noticed walking side by side with him as he had slowed down his strides.

To you, it seemed like a relatively comfortable silence, but Daryl didn't agree with that apparently as his grunt slashed through it,

"Yer husband know you can hunt?"

A sigh evidently fell from your lips, but you were able to hold back a roll of your eyes. He was trying to keep up the conversation and you couldn't not admit that you quite enjoyed not necessarily having to walk in complete silence. Even if it meant talking about Shane apparently.

"Don't know," you shrugged.

"What d'ya mean, ya don't know? Yer never talked about that? Ain't he supposed to know ya inside out or some shit like that?" You knew, deep down his words held nothing but truth, yet, you had learned to ignore remarks like that, knowing that Shane was just a different kind of partner than most.

"Why should he know about something he's not interested in?" As long as you weren't out on your own and at home in the evening with a homecooked meal waiting for him, he had never truly cared about what you did. Lying, you'd be out with your friends for a few hours while doing something completely different had gotten you far. Him working late hours most days only helped. You never even thought about telling him about the childhood hobby you had started at 8 years old and had carried with you up until well into adulthood. While you had left home as soon as you had turned 18, knowing Atlanta was the place you'd want to study in, archery was one of the things that had kept you connected to home. To your dad.

"That don't sound righ' if ya ask me," he commented.

"Well," you couldn't help but sigh again, "good thing he's not your issue to worry about."

"But he is." His comment made you stop. Daryl was quick to notice you not walking beside him anymore, making him stop and turn. "I gotta worry about him havin' my balls on a stick if he sees me talkin' to ya."

"Then don't!"

"Then why d'ya follow me into the woods, huh?" It looked like you were about to start a fight with Daryl Dixon.

"Because Dale asked me to. Because no one trusts you to do anything good for the group on your own," you spat at him, continuing your way, making sure to bump his shoulder as you passed him.

The archer scoffed, "Yeah because everyone trusts ya lil' husband oh so much to care for every-"

You came to another halt. "He's not my husband! We're engaged, you ignorant fuck!"

"Oh, careful," Daryl eyed you, "What would'e say if he heard ya talkin' like that, huh?" Sending you a provocative look that made you take a deep breath in, trying to contain your anger.

"I think you got a brother to worry about, Dixon. Enough drama there, don't snoop into other people's lives."

That seemed to have done the job as he kept quiet while you walked ahead. It took a few seconds before you heard him behind you again, proud of yourself for leaving him stunned even if it was just for a short moment. You didn't want to snap at him like that, you had to admit. It just came out and if you could take it back, you would've. He wasn't directly snooping, you knew that. You weren't here to make enemies, at least you didn't want to. You desperately wanted to get along with everyone as best as possible. Not meaning that you'd have to become close friends with each person in the group, just good colleagues.

With your mind deep in thought, overthinking every word you had just dropped, you didn't notice the ruffling leaves close by. Not until you felt a tug on your arm that made you stop. Almost annoyed, you turned around, only to find Daryl lifting his finger to his lips, telling you to keep quiet. At first, you looked at him in confusion but the moment you heard a grunt, your ears perked up as you started to glance around. You had just ran into a geek with the Dixon brother reminding you that they usually travelled in bigger groups, meaning the possibility of another one being close by wasn't that small.

The grunting continued making your frown only deepen. It didn't necessarily sound like one of the dead, you realised. Daryl started moving around slowly and as quietly as possible, you following close behind, keeping ducked down just in case.

Suddenly, you caught another noise. One that sounded less like a grunt and more like a... moan? Clearly just as confused as you, the archer turned around to meet your gaze for a split second.

With each step the two of you took further, the noises became much clearer. Shuffling leaves, grunts, and clear moans were now hitting your ear. One specific huff of air made a cold shiver run down your spine. It's like your body knew before your eyes could even see it.

Daryl and you hit a raised ground that kept you from seeing where the noise was coming from as you were still crouched down. But as soon as you let your back straighten, every last bit of air left your lungs. You saw the auburn hair spread out on the grass first. Directly next to it, an all too familiar head of black curls, the face deep in her neck, muting the moans coming from him. With each pound, they became heavier and louder. You already knew it. Right as Shane lifted his head though, you could feel yourself wanting to scream. And if it wasn't for the hand suddenly covering your mouth, you would've.

You were pulled onto the ground, back into your crouched position, and dragged back from where you came from. As hard as you tried to fight the grip the archer had on you, it was no use as he was clearly much stronger than you. The leaves and branches brushed against your pants as he kept tugging on you to keep you right up against him, not daring to loosen the hand covering your lip

Once it seemed far away enough for him, Daryl let go of you, letting you fall to the ground completely as you desperately choked up for air.

"You bastard-" You went at him, only for him to cover your mouth once again.

He pulled you in hard. "Ya screamin' 'ere and an entire hoard will hear ya. Keep quiet," he hissed at you in a whisper. You never noticed the soft specks of green that decorated his striking blue eyes. Not until then.

A quick moment of silence followed as your eyes suddenly filled with tears. Daryl's gaze softened immediately, removing his hand from you as if your skin had turned into burning hot metal.

While you had started to sob in the middle of the woods, trying to keep as quiet as possible, the archer didn't know what else to do, but to stand next to you, his eyes fixed on your shaking shoulders. He wasn't the right person to console someone. Nor did he even know how.

"I told ya he's an asshole," he mumbled, clearly not at the right moment as you sent him an angry frown.

"You didn't tell me sh-"

"I tried tellin' ya!" Raising his voice just a bit to turn his tone stern, yet keeping the volume low enough. "I told ya he ain't interested in anyone but that woman and her son."

"I want to go back," you sniffled, feeling your chest painfully tightening.

"Go back to 'em?!"

"Back to the camp, idiot!" You snapped at him, your hand flying up to your chest. "I feel like I'm gonna throw up." Trying to take deep breaths in that just continuously proved to be hard as you only choked up more. Coughing mixed with your sobs, you fell onto your knees, your hand clutching the very top of your chest as you tried to breathe.

"Hey-" Daryl fell onto the ground right in front of you, his rough hands grabbing you by your shoulders to pull you straight, trying to get you to look at him. "Calm down," he strictly told you.

"H-He-" you sobbed, "he... fucked her. He just-", coughing again as the air got stuck in your throat.

"I know- hey-" you lowered your head to look at the ground beneath you, only for Darly to grab your chin and make you look back up again. "He's a fuckin' idiot. Don't cry 'bout him."

"W-What did I do?" You asked, technically hypothetically, as you continued to choke on your own cries. "What do- How?!"

"Ya didn't do anythin'," he tried to console you. "He's a dumb fuckin' bastard. A coward. A stupid mongo-"

"Lori... I-I thought-," stopping yourself again as another sob shot through your body.

"It's okay," Daryl whispered, "don't fuckin' cry for 'em. Ya think they would cry for ya?"

"What about Carl?!" You ignored his comment, instead continuing to throw out whatever came to your head.

The archer shook his head, "That ain' your problem to worry 'bout."

"She- she just lost her husband... a-and now this?!"

Before Daryl could say anything, you brushed off his hands from your shoulders and raked yourself up.

Still sniffling, you looked around. "We gotta go back." Noticing that the sun had already started to set and no one was supposed to be out in the dark.

With a grunt, he copied you, pushing himself up to stand again while his eyes continued to follow you as you tried to get yourself back together. You could feel his gaze burning holes into your skin, making you look up. Cheeks tears stained, burning read. Your eyes were swollen, still letting single drops of tears escape as you slowly managed to even out your breathing.

"Let's go back." You re-secured the bag and bog on your shoulder before turning around to walk to the camp. A sigh escaped Daryl's lips as he shook his head slightly before jogging up towards you, stopping you with his hands back on your shoulders. He swiftly turned you around, only to let go again, his steps slowing down to let you walk ahead. This time, in the right direction.

The way back was spent mostly in silence, only a few remarks coming from the archer each time he had to tell you to either turn right or left. In no time, you had come back, finding most of the group either already back in their tents or gathered by the SUV. The sun had fully set, now the only source of natural light coming from the soft glow of the moon.

"There you are!" Dale called out as soon as his eyes found you. The smile that had started to spread on his lips fell quickly as soon as you got close enough to him to let him see the dishevelled state you were in. "What happened?" He gasped, but you just shook your head and made a quick B-turn towards your tent. The tent you shared with Shane.

The older man's tone changed quickly, clearly blaming one specific person for your mood as he followed behind you not much later.

"What the hell did you do to her?" Dale snapped at Daryl, only to get a scoff in return.

"How abou' you ask her asshole fiancé." The Dixon brother left him with that, ignoring the looks of the people around them. He opened his satch to take out the two chipmunks you had caught, only to throw them onto a set-up table and disappear down towards the quarry.

In the comfort of the plastic walls, with the bow and arrows set down outside, you had let yourself let go one more time, the tears not needing more than mere seconds before running down your cheeks again. You couldn't continue crying about this.

'Ya think they would cry for ya?'

Daryl's words rang through your mind. You hated to admit that he was most probably right.

Your relationship with Shane wasn't tense. At least until a few months ago. It had always been a little bit more difficult than you would've liked to, but you remembered the words of your mother, saying 'marriage is hard', making you realise that most likely each couple had their fair share of issues to work through. And you and Shane seemed to just have a good amount of those. Either disagreements, discussions, or different ideas and wants. Everything from as simple as the colour of your living room walls, to which state you'd have your wedding in - since your grandma was almost bedridden, you had proposed to have at least the officiant ceremony in Ohio, but Shane was, surprise, against that.

You glanced down at your ring. A gold band, holding a small square diamond right in the middle. It was beautiful. Even though you had always solely worn silver jewellery and had mentioned the classic round diamond as your dream style. Still, you had accepted the proposal. You looked past the smirks he would send waitresses and secretaries. Ignored comments he made about other people in your life. You had even given in and promised him not to get too close to anyone in the group that was right outside.

It was never 'controlling' in your eyes. You didn't know any better. But while you had to lock yourself away, making doing laundry your only form of 'entertainment', he was having fun with a presumed widow. Whereas he had told you and everyone else that he would be spending the day trying to hunt down 'something big'.

You shook your head. You had all the reasons to leave him already months ago and yet you didn't. A lot of your friends had told you you'd regret marrying him. But he had managed to get into your head, making you think that they were the crazy ones. That all of your 'dumb sorority girlfriends' had no idea what they were talking about.

Comments and stares were one thing you could look past, but cheating... you had to draw the line somewhere. You remembered all the times your college friends came crying into the dorm, sobbing into their pillows as they complained about their boyfriends fucking around with other girls on campus. Everyone would gather and support them with one opinion: dump him. Leave him. He doesn't deserve you.

'I told ya he ain't interested in anyone but that woman and her son.'

There was Daryl's voice again in the back of your head. Screaming at you. If even he could see it, yet you were too blind to realise it...

With one final deep breath in, you gathered the sleeping bag you had claimed for yourself into your arms, along with your pillow. You managed to drag everything out of the tent, suddenly feeling more free than ever.

Looking around, you found no one sitting outside anymore, indicating most had gone to bed, but the light inside the RV made you hopeful. You couldn't sleep in your shared tent tonight. Or ever again. And Dale was your only other choice. With everything packed in your arms, you made your way over to the vehicle, knocking on the door with your foot. Two voices made you look behind you, your face immediately falling when you found Shane and Lori coming back from the woods. They took their goddamn time.

The door opened, catching your attention again. Dale looked at you in confusion but before he could say anything, you beat him to it.

"Can I sleep here tonight?"

Forget about your age. Suddenly, you felt like a little kid again. Too scared to sleep on their own, begging their parents to let them sleep in their room.

"Y/N?" Shane's rough voice called out your name, making your heartbeat quicken.

You looked up at the older man in panic. "Please."

With no hesitation, Dale nodded, stepping aside to let you walk in, ushering you inside with his hand. Daryl's remark from earlier had engraved itself in his brain as soon as he found the sheriff strutting over to his RV in big steps.

"What is she doing, Dale?" He wondered, his voice holding slight anger to it. "Y/N!" He shouted out your name again, but you gave him no response.

The older man stopped Shane from coming any closer.

"You better leave, son."

"What the fuck did I do?!" He unknowingly asked before getting the RV's door closed in his face.

The moment silence took over the enclosed room, Dale turned to you, now sitting on the small sofa.

"What the fuck did he do?"

If there was one person in this apocalyptic world that you had come to trust, it was Dale. He had already let you into his home, he deserved to get a reason for it.

You could already feel the tears filling your eyes again. Both of you ignored the knocks on the door, the old man's eyes fixed solely on you as he sat down by the small dining table, ready to wait patiently for you to answer his question.

"He... he cheated on me...," You couldn't hold back the sob that followed. "With Lori." The added remark made Dale's eyebrows shoot up in surprise. He leaned back into his chair, taking off his hat to run a hand through his hair as he huffed out a chunk of air.

"Daryl and I- we saw them in the woods-," You let your head fall into the palms of your hand. The old man was quick back on his feet, on his way over to you.

"Oh, honey," sighing out, but stopping as the heavy knocks on the door continued. With an annoyed huff, he rushed over to the door to pull it open.

"Get the fuck away from my RV!" Shouting at Shane, not even giving him a moment to answer as he smashed the door close again.

"I-I don't know what to do." You admitted in sobs, glancing up at the man as he got closer to you, making space to sit down next to you. A comforting arm found its way around your shoulder while his other hand rubbed your upper arm.

"That man doesn't deserve an angel like you," he whispered at you, hoping his calming voice would soothe your cries. "He clearly doesn't know what he lost with a stupid act like that."

"He proposed to me," you showed him the ring in desperation. "Only to cheat on me?"

"What can I tell ya, kid... young men are...," Dale sighed as he shook his head. "Dumb... and blind. They think they own the world."

You continued to sob in the man's arms. Listening to his soft voice as he spoke to you while you kept on your rambles of despair. Why Lori out of all people? You used to go out on double dates with your partners. You had known Rick Grimes for a good few years now. He was a good man. You had thought Lori was a good woman. But there she went, sleeping with an engaged man. The colleague, and best friend of her husband. Who may or may not be dead. Maybe Rick was gone, but you were still there. Only one partner of the cheating couple was widowed. The other part was still very much in a committed relationship. Or so you thought.

"W-What do I do now?" You wondered out loud. "How am I supposed to continue this?" Not necessarily talking about your relationship with Shane, but the situation altogether.

"You don't." Daryl's simple but straightforward answer made you look up. In the meantime, your sobs had quieted down again.

"What?"

"You tell him," he strictly told you. "You tell him what you saw. And you end it. Men like that... they don't change."

"God...," you fell back into the cushions behind you, running your hands down your face as you wiped the tears away. "Was I just... not good enough for him anymore? Why would he do something like this?"

"I wish I could tell ya, honey. But don't think that this has anythin' to do with you," Dale's stern voice made you glance at him. "Men like him don't think. You think he really thought of the possible consequences of his actions?"

You shrugged.

"He didn't. If he did, he wouldn't have done it. And men like don't deserve a second chance. Hell- they don't even deserve a first chance. But they're charming and whatnot, and before you know it, they're havin' their dicks in other women, breaking hearts of the ones that actually care about them."

You decided to stay quiet, letting his words sink in and register with you.

"You don't deserve that, honey."

Nodding your head, you took a deep breath in, wiping your nose. "I know..." With a sigh, you pushed yourself to stand up. "I have to talk to him."

"You sure, you wanna do that tonight?" The man carefully asked you, but you had already made up your mind, so you just continued to nod.

Quietly, you left the RV, of course not before Dale promised to set up a bed for you to stay in inside his movable home. You knew you had found the confidence to face your- Shane. Yet, your shaking legs and hands almost betrayed you. Realising, you didn't even truly think about how to start the conversation, the anxiety inside of you only started to bubble up more, hitting its highest point when you suddenly saw Shane exiting your tent.

His eyes fixed on you in the dark, finding your silhouette coming towards him thanks to the light shining through the RV's windows.

"Y/N-" he started, but you interrupted him right away.

"It's over."

Shane's eyebrows scrunched together. "What?"

"It's over," you repeated, finding your voice slightly shakier than you would've liked to. You glanced down your hands, almost mindlessly, wrapping your fingers around the gold band. Once, the sight of the shimmering ring on your finger made you smile, now it just shot another wave of sadness through your body. Almost shakingly, you took the last step, pulling the gold band off your finger, the metal leaving your skin, making you breathe out heavily.

"Hey- hey," the sheriff rushed closer to you, making you scoot back in reflex. "What the fuck are you doing?"

"What am I doing?" You spat at him, a salty chuckle tumbling from your lips. There was a slight change in expression on his face as he lifted his hands in defence.

"Listen-"

"No, you listen," you stopped him again. You didn't even let your brain think about what words were about to fall from your lips. "Don't even try-" You had to stop yourself, taking a deep breath in, trying to promise yourself not to cry in front of the man that you had lost so many nerves to.

"What the hell are you doing?" He continued to ask you, his frown only deepening.

But you just continued to shake your head, ignoring the anger starting to lace his voice. You had seen Shane angry before. Even angry at you. And it scared you. But right now, the anger, you were trying to hold back, should terrify everyone involved in this situation.

Taking a few steps closer to stop right in front of him, you lifted your hand that was still tightly holding onto the ring you had once worn and shown off proudly. Once Shane opened his palm underneath it, you let it drop down.

"It's over." Before he could ask you anything more, you left him with one last comment hanging in the air. "Have fun with Lori."

Turning around, you could hear his heavy huffs and the callouts of your name, yet he didn't even dare to try and reach out to you, leaving you to make your way back towards the RV. In the back, the sound of him knocking over some of the empty cans you had gathered, filled the silence. Up ahead, you found a silhouette standing still, almost scaring you if it wasn't for the distinct stance you were able to recognise immediately. The dim light illuminated Daryl's scowl as he had clearly watched the scene from a distance.

Arrived at the door of the vehicle, you wanted to at least send him a tight smile, a goodnight and somewhat of a thank you, but the archer had already disappeared again in his usual nature.

I CAN‘T WAIT TO POST PART 2🙈🤗🥰 I loved writing this so much omg

this is me officially stating I'm writing for the man that is Daryl Dixon now too :)

#Daryl dixon x reader #Shane Walsh #fluff #twd #the walking dead #Norman reedus #Jon bernthal #let me tell you something #one shot #imagine #fem!reader #series #masterlist

107 notes · View notes

skywalker1dream · 2 days

Text

Title: Stuck with the stranger

Note:so it's 2:40am I can't sleep and this fine man is in my mind, inspiration 'hating game' hope you have good day or night and don't forget to drink water ;3

part two | part three

Summary:When You get trapped in an elevator with a charming stranger named Carlos, what starts as a stressful ordeal turns into the beginning of a heartfelt friendship. As you two share stories and dreams, an unexpected bond forms.

Warning: Contains mild claustrophobia and brief moments of anxiety.

Carlos sainz x reader

You entered the elevator, you were accompanied by a stranger.

The doors of the elevator closed with a quiet thud, sealing you inside with a stranger. You barely spared him a glance, too preoccupied with your own thoughts. But when the elevator jolted to a sudden stop, the lights flickering out, you couldn’t ignore him any longer.

“Of course this happens today,” you muttered to yourself, frustration bubbling up.

The stranger beside you was already frantically pressing buttons, his expression a mix of annoyance and desperation. When it became clear the buttons weren’t responding, he sighed heavily and slumped against the wall, sliding down to sit in the corner of the elevator.

You glanced over, finally taking a proper look at him. He was fiddling with the bracelets on his wrist, clearly trying to distract himself. His features were dimly lit by the emergency light, but you could see he was attractive in a rugged sort of way, with a familiar face you couldn't quite place. He looked up at you with a small, sheepish smile.

“Doesn’t seem like pressing those buttons is helping much,” you said, attempting to lighten the mood.

“Yeah,” he replied, his accent a smooth blend of Spanish and something else. “I guess we’re stuck here for a while. I’m Carlos, by the way.”

“Nice to meet you, Carlos,” you said, settling down on the floor across from him. “I’m [Your Name].”

Carlos chuckled softly, a sound that surprisingly made you feel a bit better about the situation. “Not the best way to meet someone, huh?”

“Could be worse,” you said with a shrug. “At least we’re not alone. So, what brings you here?”

He hesitated for a moment, as if weighing whether to tell you. “I’m here for some work,” he said vaguely. “What about you?”

“Just visiting a friend. So, where are you from, Carlos?”

“Spain. And you?”

You chatted for a while, the initial awkwardness giving way to a more comfortable conversation. You learned that Carlos traveled a lot for his job, though he was still vague about the details. He had a love for adventure, often finding himself in unexpected situations,though getting stuck in an elevator wasn’t usually on his list.

“Do you always carry so many bracelets?” you asked, noticing how he seemed to calm himself by playing with them.

He laughed, holding up his wrist. “They’re kind of a good luck charm for me. Each one has a story.”

“Like what?”

He began to tell you the stories behind a few of them, and you found yourself genuinely intrigued. There was one from a charity event in Monaco, another from a small market in Brazil. Each bracelet had a memory attached, and you found yourself admiring the way he cherished these small tokens of his experiences.

Hours passed, and you both shared more than just surface-level stories. You talked about your dreams, fears, and the small moments that made life worthwhile. You were surprised at how easy it was to talk to him, a complete stranger. There was something comforting in the way he listened, the way he seemed to genuinely care about what you had to say.

Suddenly, the elevator jolted, and the lights flickered back on. You both looked up in surprise as the elevator started moving again. Carlos stood up and offered you a hand.

“Looks like we’re saved,” he said with a grin.

“Yeah, looks like it,” you replied, taking his hand and standing up.

As the elevator doors opened, you both hesitated, neither of you quite ready to step out. There was an unspoken understanding between you, a connection that had formed in the hours you spent together.

“I don’t suppose you’d like to get a coffee sometime?” Carlos asked, scratching the back of his neck nervously.

“I’d like that,” you said with a smile. “I’d like that a lot.”

You exchanged numbers and stepped out of the elevator, going your separate ways. But as you walked away, you couldn’t help but feel that this was just the beginning of something special. A friendship born out of a shared misadventure, with the potential for so much more.

It's short I know..if you want part 2 I will deliver it hope you liked it:3

#carlos sainz #carlos sainz imagine #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz x you #carlos sainz x female reader #carlos sainz f1 #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #fanfic

96 notes · View notes

themissinghand · 1 day

Note

Mind if I could have a SAGAU request? So the player is burnt out from the game. Like completely. Some characters find a way to your desktop and ask "Why haven't you entered Teyvat lately?" After explaining that you still like/love them, they are disappointed but understandable. Problem is, they can't go back until you launch the game. So the characters sort of become desktop buddies (Showing my age aren't I?) and perhaps helping you out in the various other games the player would play or just vibing as you surf the web, make arr, write stories, etc. As for the characters... Aether and Paimon at least, though adding Kazuha, Yanfei, Freminet, Bennett, Fischl, Childe, and Collei would be cute too.

Genshin Impact Desktop Buddies

Summary: In which your favourite Genshin characters miss you.

Or now you have them as your desktop buddies until Genshin Impact is fixed.

Pairings: Aether & Paimon, Kazuha, Yanfei, Childe and Fischl x Neutral! Reader!

Note: Desktop buddies are ancient now lol, but honestly such a cool thing to have back then. Hope you enjoy!

Warning: None, just fluffy goodness.

★・・・・・・★

You’re tired. Like really tired.

Grinding for artifacts, ascension and weapon materials has worn you out. That includes your wallet too.

They were worth it, no doubt about that, but staring at a screen all day every day could tire anyone out.

And yea, you need sleep.

For the first time in a long time, you decided to shut down the game, and take at least a few day break.

It’s not like it would make a big difference right?

Little did you know, it most definitely would.

Just a few days later, not only did your laptop started acting weird to the point where you thought of buying a new one, Genshin also disappeared from your desktop.

Before you knew it, you see little figures that look oddly familiar on your screen…

“Why haven’t you entered Teyvat lately?”

Aether & Paimon

The player spun around, eyes widening at the sight of Aether and Paimon now out of the game, and...hopping around on your screen.

"Aether? Paimon? How... how are you here?".

Aether stepped forward.

"Our Creator, we've missed you. The others are worried. Why haven't you been to Teyvat?"

You sighed, has it already been a couple of days? Also, since when were you their creator?

"I'm just a little tired-” There was a dramatic gasp from Paimon.

“Tired of us? Aether! Our Creator is tired of us!”

“No! I mean, I still love Teyvat and all of you, but I needed a break and I will go back soon." You quickly responded with reassurance, which luckily appeased the floating companion.

Paimon floated closer, which was like a weird zoom on her face, her eyes softening with understanding.

"We get it, but... we can't go back to Teyvat until you' launch' the game." She says robotically, but appeared confused right after.

“Ah, okay. Give me a minute.”

When you tried to download the game via the Genshin website, it stated that there was a website maintenance.

“Creator! What is happening? The world is changing!” While you were frustrated, Aether and Paimon were jumping and flying everywhere around your screen, exploring how tabs open and following your mouse as you click and hover.

Their curiosity made you smile, and you slowly explain how everything works slowly as with each passing second, they marvel at how advanced your world is.

“No wonder you’re our Creator!”

“What’s this!?” Before you knew it, you pulled up multiple websites, and the one you landed on was Disney+.

“Do you want to watch a movie?”

“What’s that?” Aether asked, curious, followed by Paimon’s cute little head tilt.

(You wished you could just squeeze those cute little cheeks-)

“It’s like telling a story, but you get to see it unfold right before you. Here.” You pull up ‘My Little Mermaid’ and they jump seeing the video move, with everyone inside move.

“Woah…it’s like another world!”

Aether seemed to marvel over it, and for a moment, he wondered, maybe, you could traverse worlds too.

Seeing the stars in their eyes made you feel guilty, as if another misunderstanding arose, but you let them be, as their cute little figures sat down and watched the movie.

You too, watched it with them, and for the first time in a while, you didn’t feel lonely.

Throughout the movie, you patted them on the head with your mouse, which the two seemed to like very much.

(And yes, you did pinch those cute little cheeks)

Kazuha

“I’m glad that you didn’t abandon us, Your Highness.”

Never in your wildest dreams did you expect to see THE Canadian Aether, Kazuha, on your screen, bowing respectfully to you.

“Let me know if I can help you in any way. Although my form is…not in the most helpful form, I will do my best.”

You held back a giggle when you saw a shy little Kazuha looking at himself and then at you shyly, and you really wanted to tease him, but you chose not to.

Instead, you pull up your incomplete art project.

Might as well since you can’t download Genshin now and might have to wait for a few days.

“Actually Kazuha, I was hoping you could help me finish my art.” He immediately perked up, a serious expression overtook his shy one.

“Of course, Your Highness, let me know what you want to draw and I can help you!”

“Great! I’m trying to draw a handsome and cute man, he has platinum blond hair…” Slowly, you list one by one, the characteristics of the person you want to draw.

Kazuha learns fast. Soon, he was able to figure out how your art platform worked.

At first, he hesitated, and didn’t want to interrupt your drawing, but slowly, he learned to add in his thoughts and feedback, and guided your mouse to smooth out the lines, and perfect the colouring.

“He has red eyes…”

Calming and soothing, his voice made you feel at peace, just like how you would hang out with him at the top of a mountain somewhere and listening to the game music.

But this time, he was a little closer, where he felt more real albeit still in your screen.

“Your Highness…isn’t this…me?” His little cheeks was dusted with pink as he quickly covered it with his hands.

“It is you.”

“But why…”

“Because you’re one of my favourites, Kazuha.”

It was all it took for him to become shy again, and he began to cough awkwardly as if to mask his embarrassment.

“Thank you…Your Highness.”

Yanfei

“Phew! We were so scared that you left us Your Eminence! But…I suppose we can’t do anything until you open up Teyvat again, until then, let me know if I can help you!”

Yanfei's cheerful voice made you smile as you leaned against your palm.

Then she turned around, as if taking in her surroundings before looking back at you.

“Your Eminence, if I may, may I help you organize your…space?” You blink, and that was when you notice the amount of files littered across the desktop screen, and you realized that from Yanfei’s view, it must’ve been very unorganized.

“Sure.”

Yanfei brightens at your acceptance, and hopped a little to show her excitement.

“Okay! I’m good at this, so leave it to me! Just follow my lead.”

You were gonna clean up your PC eventually, though you did not expect it would be today.

Either way, Yanfei was like a referee and a police, asking questions but also making sure everything was organized correctly.

In a way, Yanfei felt like a Mom asking her child to clean her room.

Even so, it was so cute to see her marching everywhere like a soldier and asking you to organize it in a neat manner.

“Okay, next, let’s organize this folder!”

“Okay-” Before you knew it, you immediately hit backspace.

“Your Eminence…who was that-”

“Let’s move on.” But Yanfei stared at that folder with an intense stare. Did she see it?

With a little nudge and push with your mouse, Yanfei eventually moved on, but she constantly had a smile on her lips.

It was you cosplaying as her for an event.

Yanfei would be sure to tell her friends back home.

Childe

“Well, I’m happy to hear that, Your Highness! But…what were you doing? Away from Teyvat?”

Childe’s smile was a little bit menacing to look at, so you pull up what you were doing before to distract him.

And it did, surprisingly.

“What is this?”

“It’s a game called Valorant.”

You start the game, and once you get prepared, he too was locked in.

With each attack and maneuver, Childe slowly became hyped up by your skill and admired it.

“Your Highness! Why didn’t you tell me before?!” He became to gush, albeit trying to remain civil as he looked between you and your character in game.

“Again.” In the end, he asked (begged) for another show.

This time, you changed your agent to someone else, and once again, showed how skilled you are even in melee, which Childe initially advised against.

But you blew his expectations away.

“Your Highness, can I duel you?”

You blink, before you laugh jokingly, but you knew in real life, Childe would absolutely crush you.

But you leave him be, and instead start another game.

Honestly, Childe would be a great hype man.

Fischl

“Ah, of course! How the stars seem to be against us this time…regardless! With me, Fischl von Luftschloss Narfidort here, there is nothing you need to worry about!”

As expected, Fischl is quite the actor and storyteller as she spews on about how she faced something similar before, something just as interstellar as this.

You don’t mind it, after all, if you did, you wouldn’t have Fischl on your team the entire time would you?

Fischl deserves more love is what you find in the fandom, and while she may be annoying at times, you found her passion admirable, and even a little sad when you think this is her way of happiness.

So you respected that, and listened as she rambled on, and moved as if she was on the stage.

Perhaps…she would do good on stage with Furina in Fontaine.

“Fischl, I do need your help on something.” You asked when she finally finished, and she straightened herself with grace as expected from the Prinzessin der Verurteilung.

“I need your help with my stories. I want you to create elaborate and dramatic narratives for everyone to love.” She froze for a moment, but her grin immediately hid her surprise.

“Why of course, I would be delighted. Allow me!” With just a few seconds to think, she immediately began her storytelling.

With her little graceful steps and hops, she almost dances away, but she doesn’t stop sharing her fantasy story full of magic, fate, and stars.

It was hard to keep up, but you didn’t want to disappoint her, so you did your best to type her word by word.

Luckily, she seemed to slow down to match your pace, as if the two of you were a duet with the piano and violin.

When she stops, you end off the story with a dramatic click, and you match her prideful smile.

Truly, Fischl is a character not everyone can handle, but that’s alright.

After all, you love her for who she is, and maybe, Fischl appreciated that more than anything else.

129 notes · View notes

chiqelatasblog · 3 days

Text

In the Middle of the Night🌙

-> Ao3 link is here.

-> Part Four is here.

Pairings : Bi-Han/ Sub- Zero x Reader, Kuai Liang/ Scorpion x Reader, Tomas Vrbada/ Smoke x Reader

Author’s Note : I apologize for the delay! The past couple of weeks have been incredibly stressful for me. I had several meetings and had to write protocols for my client’s case. Additionally, I visited a friend who was staying in a different province, four hours away from where I live. Everything seemed to overlap (and to top it off, even my menstrual cycle was 17 days late due to the stress). But now, everything seems to be settling down, and I’ve managed to clear my mind and focus on writing this chapter as soon as possible. I decided to split this chapter into two parts because I felt it would have a better impact, and I wanted to give the final chapter its own spotlight. I hope you enjoy reading it! Thank you for your patience and understanding.❤️

CHAPTER FIVE : (READER)

Until now, you never thought that you could fall in love with three people at the same time.

You didn’t realize a few months ago that such a thing was possible, but now it felt as natural and normal to you as breathing. It was as if Bi-Han, Kuai Liang, and Tomas had always been a part of your life. You got used to their presence so easily that now it’s hard to imagine your life without them; you were so attached to them. It was a fact that you didn’t know them until a few months ago, but although you couldn’t quite describe it, it felt as if your souls had known each other for a long time. Your movements resembled pieces of a jigsaw puzzle—they were so complete. There was a nonverbal communication between you; sometimes you could effortlessly communicate without speaking, even just by looking. This situation was very special and unique for you, as you had never made such a connection with anyone before.

Each moment spent with them felt like a blessing. When Bi-Han’s stern gaze softened just for you, it made you feel cherished in a way you had never experienced before. Kuai Liang’s calm presence was a sanctuary, a steady anchor in the chaos of life. And Tomas, with his unyielding loyalty and kindness, filled your heart with warmth and light. The bond you shared with them was deeper than mere friendship. It was an unspoken promise, a silent understanding that no matter what happened, you would stand by them. You hadn’t yet said it out loud to any of them, but you loved all three with a special bond and emotion. Your actions and looks might have betrayed your feelings, but you lacked the courage to put it into words.

You would find yourself watching them, feeling an overwhelming sense of gratitude and affection. The way Tomas’s eyes glinted with mischief when he teased you, or how Bi-Han’s rare, gentle smiles made your heart flutter. Kuai Liang’s reassuring touch or kiss on your shoulder during moments of doubt spoke volumes about his unwavering support. Each of these little things cemented their place in your heart, making it impossible to imagine a future without them.

They had become a part of you, woven into the very fabric of your existence. And even though the words were yet to be spoken, your heart had already made its choice. They were the kind of people you would want to keep hidden in your heart forever, to protect and watch over.

Loving Tomas was like experiencing spring. He wasn’t as serious as his two brothers; he was polite, with a naivety that softened the expression in his light gray eyes, making them irresistible to look at. Despite the scars on his soul from a very young age, Tomas was brave. He was the first person to choose to trust you, and that trust felt like a precious gift. His sense of humor was not only funny but remarkably similar to yours, making your conversations a source of endless delight. His presence was like feeling the gentle warmth of the sun after the harsh cold of a long black winter. Every moment spent with him was filled with hope and joy, like the first flowers of the season blooming and signaling new beginnings.

His love was tender and kind, much like the soft rain that revives the earth after a prolonged drought. Being with him allowed you to embrace your inner child, escaping the harsh realities of life. You found joy in the simple pleasures of watching TV shows or movies together, taking care of mundane tasks, having small, meaningful conversations, and spending time with Ninja. His ability to bring simplicity and happiness into your life made every moment with him feel like a cherished memory in the making.

Loving Kuai Liang was like experiencing summer. His body was warmer than normal due to his pyromancy, and you found yourself surrounded by a gentle, safe warmth next to him, especially when wrapped in his strong arms. It was such a soothing feeling that most of the time, it made your eyelids feel heavy and sleepy because of the peace you felt. Although touching Kuai Liang was wonderful, he was afraid to touch you because of his dark past, fearing that he might tarnish you. When you heard that, it felt like you had been shot in the brain, and your heart painfully squeezed thinking about what this strong man had been subjected to. None of them had told you exactly what they had been through in the past—you knew bits about what happened with Leilani and a few other masters, but nothing more—but it wasn’t difficult to guess. So you left it entirely up to them to control the speed at which they wanted to move forward in the process. You wanted them to know that they had this power, that they had a say.

Every time you spent with Kuai Liang filled you with a vibrant energy, warming you to the core like basking in sunlight. His love was wild and passionate, yet he was also incredibly kind; it set your soul ablaze, much like the intense heat of a scorching day. You felt comfortable next to him, his presence enveloping you like warm summer nights. You enjoyed walking outdoors with him, cooking together with his help (especially since discovering his distinct fondness for sweets last week), chatting about past missions, and witnessing the proud expression on his face when you asked him to show his powers.

Loving Bi-Han was like experiencing winter. His true self, which emerged after overcoming his initially harsh and inaccessible exterior, exuded a unique warmth that demonstrated winter was not just about coldness. Like soft snowflakes falling to the ground in the serene beauty of a winter landscape, his touch was gentle and filled with longing. Though not as openly expressive as his two brothers, you could sense his love in the way he touched you or looked at you every time. Despite the coldness that seemed to envelop him, his gaze held a warm invitation that melted away the chill, filling you with a warmth that drew you to him.

Unlike Kuai Liang, Bi-Han was not one to avoid contact. Although the ice forces surrounding him usually caused harm to both himself and others, this rule didn’t seem to apply to you. Since realizing this, it was as if he couldn’t stop touching you. He never verbalized it, but every time a part of his body—his arm, hand, or leg—came into contact with yours, it was evident how much he cared. Though his touch initially felt cold and eerie, you soon grew accustomed to it, even finding it addictive. Despite appearances, Bi-Han served as the cornerstone among the brothers, keeping them united and shielded with his protective and steadfast demeanor. Being included in that circle filled your heart with love and made you feel special.

Even though Bi-Han was the last to let down his walls around you, getting used to him was quick and effortless, much like with the other brothers. You enjoyed conversing with him about his clan, listening to him describe his daily routines, and especially watching the city view in the evenings. The silence felt peaceful rather than suffocating, allowing for a range of unexpressed emotions to be felt in that moment. Moreover, witnessing his moments of care for Ninja when he thought no one was watching was another detail that melted your heart.

You were deeply connected to three men in a way that scared you a little. Your emotions were incredibly intense—the love you felt for them, their choice to trust you despite their painful pasts, the respect you held for their strength and courage, your anger at the injustices they faced, and your desire for revenge. You had never experienced such emotions so clearly and intensely, shaking you to the core. It was somewhat frightening, as your priorities suddenly shifted to them instead of yourself. Your sole focus became freeing them from the clutches of the book and its curse, with less than a week and a half remaining until the deadline.

Despite your efforts, you hadn’t found a solution yet. Since the owner of the book could only summon them once, you wouldn’t be able to see them again after the time limit passed. The thought of this damned you, filling your heart with great fear at the prospect of what they might face if Sektor failed to protect them when he came to retrieve the book after you, and it fell into the hands of a new person.

You were prepared to do whatever it took to prevent this outcome, but the lack of a solution filled you with terrible anxiety and drove you to the brink of madness. Just two months ago, your biggest concern was unemployment and paying rent, but now your problems had evolved into something entirely different. Your own worries seemed insignificant compared to the future of the men you loved. Breaking this curse had become the most important thing in your life right now.

Bi-Han’s change in attitude towards you had somewhat lessened the effect of the curse on you. However, it remained a relentless force, constantly gnawing at you in a corner of your mind. Whenever you were close to Tomas, Kuai Liang, or Bi-Han, it seemed to roar in your mind, filling you with a desire that was hard to resist. Your skin practically begged you to touch them, and sometimes the desire was so intense that it felt like you were engulfed in flames—it hurt and clouded your judgment, making you feel almost foolish. At times, the urge became so overwhelming that finding refuge in the bathroom seemed to be the only solution. While your fingers didn’t always provide the satisfaction you sought, they at least allowed you to regain some semblance of control. But the lingering feeling in your mind never disappeared. It was akin to eating without feeling satiated—it was relentless and unyielding.

Each passing day seemed to bring a new level of torment, as if the curse intensified with every sunrise. The pain became unbearable, almost akin to torture. You couldn’t eat, sleep, or even think properly in the last couple of days. Functioning normally seemed impossible, and at times, it became so overwhelming that even breathing felt like a challenge. You didn’t know how to endure this any longer. You were painfully aware that each day was worse than the last, and yet there seemed to be no end in sight. You were drowning in a sea of agony, struggling to keep your head above water.

Despite the agony you endured, you were determined to bear the burden alone. You knew that all three of them wanted to help you, hating to see you suffer. Yet, you couldn’t bring yourself to accept their help. You didn’t want them to be involved with the curse in any way. Forgiving and moving on with your life would be impossible if they intervened, so you chose to ignore them and continue caring for yourself in your own way.

Thrusting your hands into the pockets of your raincoat, you gazed up at the reddening sky, returning from yet another unsuccessful job interview. How you wished the answer lay somewhere out there. You had tried everything written in all the sources you could access, masking your disappointment even as each failure chipped away at your hope. Trying to guess how they felt and what they were thinking only added to your frustration, yet you refrained from showing it, knowing they needed your support more than your despair. In the ten years since they were cursed, they had endured far more disappointments than you had faced in two months. You could imagine how futile it must have felt for them to continue hoping. They had exhausted their strength fighting disappointment after disappointment, opting instead to cherish the present moment—a reality that broke your heart a little.

The fact that they had accepted their situation and grown tired of fighting weighed heavily on you. Yet, you couldn’t blame them for choosing this path. Instead, you took it upon yourself to fight for them. However, with each passing day and no solution to the curse in sight, a heavy weight descended upon your shoulders, threatening to crush you. Despite the growing despair, you knew you had to keep fighting for them. You were their only hope, their only chance at breaking the curse.

Witnessing them struggle against the influence of their past only intensified your own turmoil. Despite Tomas sometimes managing to fall asleep, there were nights when he woke up with unfamiliar eyes, as if he didn’t recognize where he was, his body stiffening as if his breath would be snatched away. Occasionally, you were able to calm him down in the morning, but even then, Tomas seemed powerless against his own imposing body.

Kuai Liang, on the other hand, often woke up drenched in sweat from nightmares, avoiding your attempts to soothe him. He repeatedly muttered about his fear of contaminating you too, leaving you barely holding yourself together as you fought the urge to tightly embrace him. His pain was palpable, almost physically hurting you.

As for Bi-Han, there were times when he hadn’t slept for days, his body tensed with the need to protect them from imagined external dangers, leaving small traces of ice and freezing cold wherever he passed. Rings of exhaustion encircled his eyes, his face taking on a statuesque and lifeless appearance, his gaze fixed on the windows and doors. It took you hours to convince him that there was no imminent danger and coax him into relaxation.

All three of them exuded danger; their capabilities to take lives were apparent from their looks and the threatening aura they emitted. Their muscular, powerful bodies spoke of a lifetime of training for combat. This reality became especially clear when they touched you—it was too easy for them to cause harm if they chose to. They possessed a suppressed power that pained you to witness. Despite being honorable men, it must have wounded their pride and soul to see themselves in such a vulnerable state.

Your train of thought was abruptly halted by the sound of someone calling your name. As you lifted your gaze from the sidewalk, you were met with the sight of a stranger standing beside Sektor, the same man you had encountered weeks ago under rather peculiar circumstances. Sektor, as formal as ever, greeted you, his black hair streaked with long gray tufts and his neatly trimmed beard suggesting recent grooming. Standing beside him was a figure who exuded an otherworldly aura, his piercing blue eyes unsettling and filled with an uncanny intensity. With a formal gesture, he crossed his arms, revealing intricate dragon tattoos that seemed to shimmer with an ethereal glow, mirroring the luminance of his gaze. Despite the chill in the air, there was an unexpected warmth in his smile as he uttered your first and last name, as if he had been anticipating your arrival.

You stood frozen, momentarily taken aback by the presence of the enigmatic figure before you. Tentatively, you ventured, “Lord Liu Kang?”

“Yes,” came the calm reply, confirming his identity. Despite his formidable stature and commanding presence, his voice carried a soothing timbre, putting you somewhat at ease. Strands of his long, obsidian hair were gathered in a half bun behind him, dressed in traditional Far Eastern attire, his hands were swathed in bandages, to his hand to elbow. It was surprising to see him in such ordinary garb, far removed from the divine image you had conjured in your mind. Yet, there was an undeniable aura of power and authority that emanated from him, accentuated by the eerie glow of his tattoos and the intensity of his gaze.

“Sektor has briefed me on the situation and the curse,” Liu Kang continued, taking a deliberate step forward. “May I have a word?”

As you silently nodded in agreement, Liu Kang motioned for you to follow him, leaving Sektor behind as the two of you made your way to a more secluded area, away from the crowd.

“Do you know how to break Quan Chi’s curse?” you voiced the question that had been weighing heavily on your mind since you first laid eyes on him. As a god, you assumed he held the answers to questions and problems that eluded mortals.

“It’s a curse I’ve encountered before,” he replied, his demeanor calm yet tinged with a hint of anger that simmered beneath the surface. “An ancient and demonic curse, leaving behind lasting damage, particularly to the mind. I am familiar with how to dispel such curses, but the solution is not one you will easily accept.”

“I want to save them.” Your voice suddenly became muffled, the tears that filled up as you thought about this situation and tried to hold them back, now that the three of them were not around, instantly began to flow down your cheeks. If you were a little embarrassed that you were crying in front of this man-god you never knew, the helplessness and grief you felt was even greater. “I can’t let them go back to the book again. What needs to be done to lift the curse? Please tell me, this has to stop.”

“You possess a pure heart,” The Fire God’s gaze fell upon you, a mix of sorrow and compassionate understanding that softened his features. “It has become increasingly rare to encounter individuals like you in this day and age… Black magic is inherently cruel, and so are its remedies,” he continued, his expression growing solemn. “There is only one method to lift the curse: the owner of the book must make a sacrificial offering of themselves.”

You fell into a stunned silence, grappling with the weight of his words as they reverberated in your mind. Your lips parted, but for a moment, it felt as though words had deserted you. Eventually, you managed to utter a whisper-like voice.

“So, what you’re saying is…”

“Death,” Liu Kang interjected sharply, his tone cutting through the air with finality. “This curse, rooted in ancient and potent sorcery, is designed by practitioners of black magic like Quan Chi to be unbreakable. The spell binds not only the cursed individuals but also the owner of the book, tethering your life energy to its pages until they return to its confines. Thus, any attempt to resist only serves to intensify the curse’s grip, compelling you to act against your will. The only path to freedom is through the ultimate sacrifice.”

Liu Kang’s gaze darkened with anger, a muscle twitching on his chin as his hands clenched into fists at his sides. His eyes, which seconds ago were warm and comforting, now blazed with righteous fury, their intensity piercing through the air like a searing flame.

“The curse is insidious,” he began, his voice laced with frustration. “It draws power from your life energy and intertwines it with their fate. As long as the owner of the book lives, the curse will persist. However,” he continued, his tone lowering to a solemn register, “if the owner willingly sacrifices their life, the curse will vanish along with the book, its source extinguished forever. It’s a trade-off, a cruel exchange that inevitably claims one side or the other. That’s the essence of black magic.”

You found yourself speechless, unable to even swallow past the lump in your throat. The gravity of Liu Kang’s words hung heavy in the air, casting a pall over your thoughts. Sacrifice your own life? The notion seemed incomprehensible, unfathomable, yet here it was, staring you in the face like an immutable truth carved in stone. With your family, dreams, and aspirations still within reach, could you bear to relinquish it all? Could you summon the courage to make such a sacrifice?

Strangely, these questions didn’t pierce your heart as much as the thought of never seeing all three of them again. Each day seemed more agonizing than the last, and you knew that the brave facade you wore didn’t fool anyone. Yet, you couldn’t bear the idea of burdening them with the curse’s weight and prompting them to take drastic action. You had found them too soon to lose them; the prospect losing them now felt unbearably cruel, like a dagger twisting in your soul. Their presence had became so integral to your life that you had actually forgotten what loneliness felt like.

You loved them, each with their own unique characteristics and qualities, with a possessive and fierce intensity unlike any love you had ever known. So when the answer came to you in a heartbeat, it didn’t scare you; instead, it settled on your shoulders like a comforting blanket, a peaceful weight that affirmed your resolve. Their needs, desires, and happiness were paramount to you, more precious than anything else in the world. As you reflected on the countless hardships they had endured, the thought of subjecting them to further suffering became unbearable. The power to end their torment lay within your grasp; you could not turn away from that responsibility. Though you couldn’t be with them in the way you longed for, you were determined to secure their well-being, even if it meant sacrificing your own life. They deserved nothing less than to reclaim the lives they had been denied for so long, to find happiness and peace in a world free from the curse’s grip.

“You don’t have to do this,” Liu Kang said, his voice soft yet filled with understanding.

“And shall I allow them to return to the book? No, I will never allow it,” you declared, your voice ringing with newfound determination. “I made a promise to them… My love for them eclipses all else, even my own life.”

Even as the curse neared its end, you couldn’t bear the thought of it being their final memory, tainted by your tears and suffering as each day brought more agony. You wanted to leave them with fond memories, to be remembered in a positive light. The idea of confessing your love to them seemed daunting until just ten minutes ago. Despite never feeling ready to bid them farewell, you knew it was inevitable.

“How am I to do it? With a knife?” you asked, your voice trembling with uncertainty. “I… I can’t take my own life. Will you help me?”

A myriad of emotions flickered across Liu Kang’s face, as if your question had unleashed a torrent of conflicting thoughts within him. You were taken aback by the sight of such ‘human’ emotions on the face of a god.

“I wish there were another way, one where you wouldn’t have to bear this burden alone,” Liu Kang sighed, his voice heavy with regret. “Bi-Han, Kuai Liang, and Tomas aren’t merely my chosen warriors; they’re also my friends—more than just allies. You are sacrificing yourself to save them; of course, I will assist you in any way I can.”

“And will you make it as painless as possible?” you asked, your voice tinged with a slight fear.

With a solemn nod, Liu Kang replied, “They will remember this act of immense bravery and courage for the rest of their lives. Your sacrifice, while saving them, will also haunt them forever.’’ You acknowledged it inwardly. Yet, the moment Liu Kang proposed the solution, your decision was made. You meant every word you said; they meant more to you than anything else, and you wanted them to reclaim the life that had been stolen from them. If sacrificing yourself was the path to ensure their freedom, then so be it.

“I want to bid them farewell,” you said, your gaze falling to the ground. “But the final act… I cannot bear to do it in front of them, especially Tomas. After what happened to his family, it would be too traumatic for him.”

‘’Of course,” Liu Kang replied, his voice filled with understanding. You gulped and lifted your gaze to the sky, silently observing the clusters of red clouds and the golden sun, its light waning as it prepared to set. The realization that this would be your final sunset weighed heavily on your chest, a palpable heaviness that seemed to anchor you to the ground. As you tried to swallow past the lump in your throat, a tear escaped, tracing a solitary path down your cheek. Your voice emerged hoarse, almost strained with emotion.

“I wish it hadn’t come to this. I would have cherished more moments with them.”

“Sometimes, even a god cannot interfere in the complex fabric of life,” Liu Kang said, tilting his head back to gaze at the sky alongside you. “Each thread is woven with its purpose and outcome. There are two paths before you, and the latter entails your choice to end your life. While I respect your decision, I must ask one last time: are you certain about this?”

As Liu Kang’s luminous blue eyes bore into yours, a sense of calm washed over you, a tranquility that spoke of acceptance and resolve.

“More than anything.”

***

As you returned home, it felt as though your body no longer belonged to you. You couldn’t recall how you had made the journey back; it was as if you had been moving through molasses, each step slow and heavy. Though your surroundings appeared blurred, your thoughts remained clear, cocooning you in a blanket of comfort and unwavering determination.

Upon softly opening the door, the scene that greeted you shattered what little remained of your heart. Bi-Han occupied the single seat he always favored, gently stroking Ninja’s head as the cat slept soundly in his lap. A rare, tender smile graced his lips, a sight that had become increasingly frequent in recent days. Meanwhile, Kuai Liang and Tomas sat cross-legged, engrossed in something on your laptop, their occasional laughter filling the room with warmth and joy. The serene atmosphere tugged at your heartstrings, leaving you both comforted and conflicted. How could you possibly break the news of your decision to them?

Caught in a state of frozen uncertainty, it was Kuai Liang who first noticed your presence. His expression of happiness dissolved into pure astonishment at the sight of Fire God and Sektor standing behind you.

“Lord Liu Kang?” he exclaimed, disbelief evident in his voice. As his words hung in the air, the rest of the brothers turned their heads towards the entrance, mirroring Kuai Liang’s surprise. They remained rooted in place for a few seconds before Bi-Han took decisive action. Carefully lowering Ninja to the ground, he strode forward to stand before Liu Kang, bowing his head respectfully in greeting.

“Lord Liu Kang.” Bi-Han uttered, his tone a mixture of reverence and warmth.

Liu Kang’s gentle smile widened as he placed both hands on Bi-Han’s shoulders, lifting him upright. “Bi-Han, it has indeed been a long time,” he acknowledged. His glowing eyes shifted to encompass Tomas and Kuai Liang, who had gathered behind Bi-Han. “It is truly a pleasure to see the warriors of the Lin Kuei, defenders of Earthrealm, and my friends once again.”

“The pleasure is ours,” Kuai Liang replied, his voice infused with warmth and sincerity as Bi-Han’s. They all expressed their respect and embraced each other in a brotherly hug, a sight that surprised you, especially seeing a god joining in. Engaging in small talk, their camaraderie was palpable. Bi-Han’s gaze then shifted towards Sektor, who stood silently beside you. His brow furrowed slightly, silently questioning his right-hand man.

“Sektor? You didn’t come all the way here just to show Lord Liu Kang, did you? It’s still more than a week until you’re supposed to take the book.”

Sektor didn’t answer, instead, when he gave you an evasive glance, Bi-Han instantly caught his gaze and his expression hardened. As he crossed his arms on both sides, the cold waves of air that began to spread over him tingled your skin.

‘’What’s going on?’’

‘’Bi-Han,” you interjected in a gentle, strained voice, struggling to suppress your emotions while the curse writhed inside you more cruelly than ever. The pain surged higher and more severe than you were accustomed to, causing your knees to momentarily tremble. Bi-Han easily grabbed you by the waist and pulled you to himself, his expression shifting from one of composure to one of anxious concern in an instant, causing your heart to flutter. Knowing how strict he was with himself about showing his feelings compared to his brothers, it filled you with happiness to see how much he had progressed in such a short period of time. It was the greatest proof of the depth of his feelings for you. Bi-Han was a stoic man, never one to show vulnerability. Seeing him like this now was both heartwarming and overwhelming. He was laying himself bare before you, offering his feelings on a platter, and you realized you could easily hurt him if you chose to, because he was showing you his vulnerability so openly.

“Are you all right?” Bi-Han’s hand gently cupped your face, his calloused fingers stroking your cheek. “Did you cry?”

At his question, Tomas and Kuai Liang turned their gaze toward you. You quickly composed yourself, the callouses on his hand providing a comforting touch against your skin. With a slight tremble in your voice, you managed a reassuring smile, your eyes reflecting a mixture of gratitude and sadness. You wanted to remain strong until the very end, to etch a lasting impression in their minds.

“I’m fine,” you replied, your voice surprisingly calm despite the turmoil within. You savored Bi-Han’s protective touch, the coolness of his skin a stark contrast to the warmth of his presence. The scent of cold and fresh snow emanating from him filled your senses, your fingers traced the contours of his strong features lovingly, committing each curve to memory. A lump formed in your throat, making it hard to swallow, as you fought back tears that threatened to spill over. Gently winding the few remaining tufts of his black hair into a small bun, you planted a tender kiss on his pale lips, conveying all your emotions in that fleeting moment. Stepping back, you caressed his cheek one last time, the rough texture of his short stubble a familiar sensation against your fingertips. Bi-Han’s expression grew increasingly worried, his furrowed eyebrows revealing his confusion as he searched your eyes for answers.

However, instead of offering an explanation, you gently slipped out of Bi-Han’s grasp and made your way to Kuai Liang, who stood beside him.

“What’s going on? Why are you acting like this?” Kuai Liang’s voice was laced with concern as he carefully cupped your face with both hands, his thumbs stroking your skin. You responded with a soft smile, kissing one of his palms before silencing him by placing your finger on his lips. His brow furrowed in confusion, the joy from moments ago fading from his face. You felt a pang of guilt for dampening his spirits, but you knew that everything you were about to do was for their well-being. They would no longer suffer, be exploited, or have their consent disregarded. They would reclaim their dignified lives, where they rightfully belonged.

As Kuai Liang fell silent, you withdrew your hand, savoring the warmth emanating from his body for what would be the last time. Despite his formidable appearance, he exuded a comforting aura, his skin radiating health, his stance unwavering. The faint scent of ash, a remnant of his pyromancy, mingled with the aroma of cedar reminiscent of summer nights, enveloping his bronze-toned physique. His amber-brown eyes, usually filled with determination, now held a soft, worried gaze as they met yours.

Struggling to maintain your smile, you rose onto tiptoe and pressed a gentle kiss to Kuai Liang’s lips. “It will be all right.” you assured him, though your voice faltered toward the end. Blinking back tears that threatened to cloud your vision, you swiftly moved to Tomas’s side before Kuai Liang could reach out to you once more.

There was an obvious panic on Tomas’s young face as he scrutinized you from head to toe with his gray eyes. You felt a pang of guilt for causing such distress. Though you kept your shoulders straight, reminding yourself of your purpose, and tried to maintain a smile, tears welled up in your eyes again when Tomas uttered your name in desperation. Instantly, you enveloped him in a tight hug.

“Talk to us, what’s going on? Did someone hurt you? Just give us their names,” Tomas pleaded, his muscular arms circling you protectively, as if he wanted to shield you from everything, even though you were the one who wanted to do the same for him.

You shook your head in response, planting a kiss on Tomas’s cheek. The faint scent of embers lingered around him, reminiscent of burning wood. Whether from his smoke magic or not, the smell defined Tomas—wild and free. Despite his formidable abilities as an assassin, his naive trust in you was evident. Stepping back, you met his gaze, his gray eyes almost appearing blue in the light. Though he possessed frightening strength and abilities, the vulnerability in his eyes told a different story. Swallowing back your emotions, you resolved that he wouldn’t suffer from the curse’s torment any longer.

You remembered how Tomas had reacted when the power went out a few days ago—it was as if everything had been reset that evening, despite the progress he had made since leaving the book.

“Tomas, it’s okay. You’re safe. You’re not in the book; look, I’m here. Your brothers are also here,” you reassured him, trying to calm his frantic state.

Thanks to the small fireball Kuai Liang created in his hands, Tomas became clearly visible. The silver-haired assassin stood frozen, breathing heavily, fists clenched, his gaze darting around erratically. Sweat matted his short hair against his forehead, glinting in the dim light of the room.

“Tomas,” you called softly again, reaching out to him, but Bi-Han stopped you, gripping your wrist firmly.

“He might hurt you,” Bi-Han warned, his voice harsh and protective. “He’s out of his mind right now, more like a cornered animal than a human being.”

“He’s just scared, that’s all,” you countered, disregarding Bi-Han’s warning. Carefully, you approached Tomas, making sure not to startle him further. “Tomas? Let me touch you, let me show you that you’re not there anymore.”

As you raised your hand to touch him, Tomas’s gaze fixed on you, his jaw clenched tightly. An angry, almost aggressive snarl escaped his lips. Bi-Han and Kuai Liang moved to protect you, but you signaled for them to stay put. Sudden movements and sounds would only agitate Tomas further.

“You’re not there, Tomas. It’s been two months since you came out of the book. You’re in my house, next to me. Look,” you reassured him, your hand gently touching his cheek. Tomas flinched violently, but he didn’t lash out. Though he remained as still as a statue, his gaze shifted to focus on you.

“You don’t want to scare Ninja anymore, do you?” you continued, noticing a slight softening in Tomas’s expression. A low, plaintive sound escaped his throat, resembling the whimper of a wounded animal. “Shh, everything is fine. I know, I know. Come, let me hug you.”

Gathering courage from his stillness, you wrapped your arms around him. Tomas melted into the embrace, his grip tightening around you as he took a sharp breath. Despite the pressure from his strong frame, you made no sound, understanding his need for this connection. As Tomas whispered your name like a prayer, your heart swelled with love and pain, wishing you could heal the wounds inflicted on his soul by the curse.

Your hand found the short tufts of gray hair, stroking them lovingly as you planted a kiss first on his cheek and then on his forehead. “I’m here. It’s all right, you’re safe, Tomas.”

And now you had the power to break this curse.

“You frighten me,” Tomas’s voice interrupted your thoughts, drawing your attention. His words echoed the fear and confusion swirling within you, amplifying the emotional turmoil.

You fought to maintain the dwindling smile on your face as you leaned in to kiss Tomas goodbye on the lips. Every touch, every gesture, was imbued with a depth of feeling that words could not fully express. It was a bittersweet farewell, filled with love and longing. Then, you turned to look at Kuai Liang and Bi-Han, their expressions clouded with concern.

“I love all three of you,” you whispered, the words heavy with emotion. For days, you grappled with how to express this overwhelming feeling, the realization that they had become the foundation of your world, each one holding a profound significance in your heart. The mere thought of voicing these sentiments once filled you with breathless anticipation, but now, as the words escaped your lips, they carried a weight you couldn’t bear alone. Indeed, the pain of the curse paled in comparison to the heaviness in your heart. “Please don’t be angry with anyone, okay?”

“Why are you saying these things?” Bi-Han’s voice cut through the air like shards of ice, his tone rigid and unyielding. Understanding his reaction became easier as you got to know him. He tended to become aggressive when he didn’t want to show his emotions – especially when panicked or afraid. This was one of those moments.

“To whom, why should we be angry?” Tomas’s voice conveyed his confusion. His genuine perplexity only served to deepen the ache in your chest, reminding you of the innocence he still retained despite everything he had endured. You took a deep breath, after stroking Tomas’s cheek for the last time, you stepped back. However, Kuai Liang stopped you by grabbing your arm.

“Tell us what’s going on.” he demanded, his voice taking on a tone you had never heard before. It was the first time you heard him speak like this. Despite his usual warmth and politeness, even when discussing his past, his voice now turned cold, almost resembling that of his older brother, but never had it been this harsh and demanding.

“I will lift the curse,” you stated firmly, leaving no room for argument. “It’s my decision, so don’t hate me or anyone in this room for this, okay? I want what’s best for you.”

“Don’t we have a say in this? And how will you lift the curse?” Kuai Liang’s tone showed his displeasure. He shook you, and the words came out as a snarl. The fire burning in his eyes was evident, his touch alarmingly hot. But behind this intensity, the concern and fear he felt were clear in his expression, open and vulnerable. “Speak!”

“This is a farewell,” Bi-Han said in a single breath, his words cutting through the tension like a knife. “You are saying goodbye to us.”

“No!” Tomas, standing up to Kuai Liang, grabbed your other arm and turned you around to face him. “Tell me it’s a lie.”

You swallowed hard. As your composure, which you tried to maintain, slowly crumbled, your lower lip trembled, and tears flowed freely. An expression of denial appeared on the faces of the three of them, indicating their refusal to accept what was about to happen.

“I’d love to,” you responded to Tomas. “But Bi-Han is telling the truth.” After inhaling deeply, you squared your shoulders and fought back the tears. “I love all three of you very much. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you. I made a promise, and I will keep it. I will set you free.”

“How?!” Bi-Han appeared in front of you with a roar, gripping your chin and forcing you to meet his furious gaze. “Whatever sacrifice you’re considering, I won’t allow it. Do you hear me?! You’re not doing anything! We will find another solution.”

“There is no other solution,” you said tearfully, freeing yourself from his grip and placing your hand on his. “I can’t set you free any other way, Bi-Han.”

“No. I said no damnit!” Bi-Han’s voice was adamant. “You stubborn woman, listen to me; I won’t allow it.”

“I’m so sorry,” you said, your voice trembling. “I wish there was another way, but it’s the only way, and I’m ready to fulfill it gladly. I’m not going to let you stop this.” You glanced over your shoulder at Liu Kang. The Fire God watched in silence, his gaze betraying a mix of sadness and anger at the injustice of the situation. “I am ready.”

As Liu Kang nodded his approval, an aggressive growl rumbled from Bi-Han’s throat, his dark, furious gaze fixed on Liu Kang now. Layers of frost and sharp ice began to grow on his skin, a chilling armor of determination as he prepared to confront a god to protect you. It was evident that while they respected Liu Kang deeply, you held an even greater significance to them in that moment, compelling them to face him in order to shield you from harm.

“Don’t you fucking dare. Don’t come close—” he warned, his voice carrying the weight of finality.

“I have the utmost respect for you, Lord Liu Kang, but if you take one more step, I will have to attack you.” Tomas’s voice pierced the tense air, devoid of its usual warmth, cold and chillingly clear. His bright eyes, once filled with warmth, now darkened and focused with an intensity that chilled you more than Bi-Han’s powers.

Aware that what you were about to do would haunt you forever, you steeled yourself. Despite the weight of your decision, there was no other choice. Your sole aim was to bring an end to this ordeal swiftly and without further harm. The thought of anyone else being affected by the curse was unbearable.

“Nobody’s going to do anything,” you said, turning your gaze away from Bi-Han and fixing it on the wall behind him. You couldn’t bear to meet their eyes. “I order all three of you to remain in your places and not to move.”

Your command hung in the air, heavy and tense. A suffocating silence descended upon the room, broken only by the sound of their ragged breaths. This was the first and last time you’d give them orders. It was for their sake, but it didn’t ease the guilt gnawing at you. You’d betrayed their trust. A few more tears escaped down your cheeks as you walked towards the book on the kitchen counter, still avoiding their gazes. You easily slipped out of Bi-Han’s loosening grip, determined to see this through to the end.

As you mentally prepared to pick up the book and materialize into the Fire Temple, it remained stubbornly unmoved. Furrowing your eyebrows, you tried to lift it with both hands, but it felt as if the book weighed a ton. A searing heat radiated from your fingertips to your hand, threatening to melt your skin and expose your bones if you held on any longer. With a small whimper, you pulled your hands back, and Liu Kang came into view.

“The curse knows what you’re about to do, that’s why it won’t let the book move.” He explained.

“But… if we can’t take it with us—then…” you trailed off, a sense of helplessness washing over you.

“Yes,” Liu Kang replied in a carefully flat voice.

“I don’t want them to witness this,” you said, your eyes flickering to the three men you held dear. Their faces revealed a tumult of emotions—betrayal, concern, and fear all intertwined. Despite their futile attempts to defy your command and approach, their efforts proved fruitless. Veins protruded on their skin, and deep furrows etched across their foreheads, with Tomas even beginning to bleed from his nose. Knowing there was no alternative, you fought back a fresh wave of tears, though they continued to betray your resolve. “All right,” you sniffed, quickly dabbing your eyes to dry the tears, lifting your chin to meet Liu Kang’s gaze once more. “Do it quickly, please.”

“Liu Kang!” Kuai Liang shouted, trying to launch the fireballs that appeared in both his hands but failing because of some kind of invisible wall that forced him to stay still. “Don’t you dare hurt her!”

“Get away from her!” Bi-Han said furiously. “I swear, if you touch her, I’ll fucking kill you!”

“No, you won’t hurt him.” In as soft a voice as possible, the second command poured from your lips. “This is my last plea to you, please don’t hurt anyone.” Your gaze turned to Sektor, who caught your wordless request. With silent steps, his head tilted to the ground, he approached, took out the hunting knife from the scabbard at his waist, and handed it to Liu Kang.

“No!” Tomas struggled on the spot, shouting, trying every way to break free from the order that was suppressing him. It destroyed you to feel the desperation in his voice. “No, Sektor, stop! Lord Liu Kang, don’t do this. Please!”

“Place your hand on the book. I know it will hurt you, but I will make it as quick and light as possible,” Liu Kang said, falling deaf to the screams behind him. However, there was a weight in his voice that made him seem more mature than he was. You did what he said, taking strength from the gentle expression on his face to keep you calm. A sizzle rose up in your flesh. You bit your lower lip and held yourself back from squealing in pain. You were going to handle this quietly; you were going to stand strong for them.

‘’Repeat after me: as the keeper of this book, I offer a pact. I unbind Bi-Han, Kuai Liang, and Tomas from the Lin Kuei Clan, the chains that tether them to this book, in exchange for the sacrifice of my own life. From this moment onward, they shall walk free from this curse. My blood and my life shall seal these words.’’

After you echoed his words, despite the screams and chaos around you, Liu Kang delivered the first stab with the knife from Sektor. When the blade pierced under your ribs, you gasped sharply. The pain was more sudden and searing than you had anticipated. Your balance wavered, and the burning pain in your hand seemed insignificant compared to the deep cut now bleeding beneath your ribs. As your misty gaze fell on the book under your hand, you saw the length of the cut forming there.

“Stop! By the elder gods, please stop! Bi-Han, brother, stop them!” Tomas’s desperate cries rang in your ears. Turning your head to him, you murmured in a voice hoping to comfort him.

“It doesn’t hurt, I swear.” Tomas’s expression shattered, his gray eyes shining with unshed tears, making him look younger and more vulnerable than ever. “It’s okay, everything will be okay.”

When Liu Kang raised his hand for the second blow, you closed your eyes. At that moment, Bi-Han’s furious, despairing voice cut through the air, filled with deadly determination.

“Liu Kang, she’s innocent! Stop it now, or I swear to you—No!” Bi-Han’s voice rang out as the knife plunged into your stomach. Your knees buckled, and you collapsed to the ground, but you kept your hand on the book despite the pain. Your hand went numb, whether from the pain or from the nerves being destroyed, you couldn’t tell. Everything had become a big ball of agony. The metallic taste of blood rose in your throat, filling your mouth. You coughed to avoid choking, and blood splattered around, some of it flowing down your lips.

‘’It’s okay… It… Doesn’t hurt.’’ You managed to murmur, the words feeling foreign on your tongue. Your lips felt numb, as if disconnected from your voice, and your tongue seemed to weigh heavy in your mouth.

“Don’t lift the curse, stop!” Kuai Liang’s cries were muffled by the pounding in your ears. Everything around you blurred into a chaotic whirl of colors and sounds, like trying to focus underwater. Each breath was a struggle, a battle against an unseen weight pressing down on your chest. Despite the pain, you clung to consciousness, fighting to stay present amidst the overwhelming haze of approaching death. “Don’t take her away from us. Please, Liu Kang, stop this madness! Let the curse stay, we want it back. Give it back—Just stop!’’

Liu Kang didn’t stop. As he lowered the knife for the third time, aiming for your heart, you felt a deep slit open in the cover of the book under your hand. Despite the excruciating pain, a weak smile formed on your face as you realized the curse had finally been lifted. It was over. They were free now. You could feel the pressure of the curse lifting, and you knew they must have felt it too. As blood continued to rise from your throat, flowing relentlessly from your lips like a crimson cascade, Liu Kang hesitated before withdrawing the knife, gently lowering you to the ground. Numbness crept through your body like tendrils of frost, slowly engulfing your senses. The pain, once sharp and all-consuming, now ebbed away like a receding tide, leaving behind a dull ache. As your vision blurred and darkness encroached, you could barely discern the outlines of three figures, their forms wavering like shadows in the fading light.

You tried to talk. To say that it doesn’t hurt, you’re glad that you finally lifted the curse and set them free, to say that you loved them with all of your heart even words cannot describe how you felt for them. But the words tumbled meaninglessly from your lips, your tongue felt too heavy and it became increasingly difficult to breathe.

“Shhh, don’t talk. We will save you, qīn’ài. Everything’s going to be fine.”

You felt a hand on top of your head, the gentle caress tracing soothing circles. It was Kuai Liang, you surmised from the familiar touch. His fingers moved with care, each stroke bringing a fleeting warmth that chased away a fraction of the cold surrounding you. Then, a sudden pressure on your wounds jolted you, eliciting a sharp whimper that escaped your lips.

‘’You foolish, stubborn woman! We won’t let you go, did you hear me? Don’t you dare give up on us now. I’ll make your life hell after the act you pulled.”

Bi-Han’s words echoed in your ears. Despite the harshness of his tone, you detected the underlying concern beneath his façade, acknowledging the conflict in his emotions. Each breath became more labored, and you wished desperately to convey your remorse to them. But deep down, you knew that if faced with the same choice again, you would make it without hesitation. Because your love for them outweighed everything else. Yet, as another cough wracked your body, you realized that words were futile. Numbness enveloped you completely, and the chill in the air seeped into your bones, causing you to shiver uncontrollably. You surrendered to the encroaching darkness, unable to resist its pull.

Your heart beat weakly one last time, then stopped completely.

***

Author’s Note: My apologies for the cliffhanger! But I’ve already started writing the next chapter, so you won’t have to wait too long again unless something important comes up. Also, I’ve decided to turn this into a series, as I have a couple of ideas brewing. If you have any suggestions or ideas, feel free to share them with me on my blog. If I find them interesting or relevant to the story, I’ll incorporate them into it and give you credit.✨

#bi han x reader #kuai liang x reader #tomas vrbada x reader #mortal kombat1 #mortal kombat x reader #reader input #bi han #mk1 kuai liang #mk tomas vrbada #liu kang #mk liu kang #ao3 writer #ao3fic #ao3 fanfic #ao3 link #angst #mk x reader #mk x y/n

120 notes · View notes

devilander · 3 days

Text

rain falls in love

homelander x gn reader. fluff, hurt/comfort, mentions of past abuse

Cozy Corner Domaystic: Thunderstorm

You were a light sleeper. Even minor disturbances would wake you instantly; your cat meowing, a neighborhood’s TV turned on, cars passing through the street. Whenever Homelander and you slept together you couldn't help but be slightly envious of how he could turn off the whole world—he slept like a stone, slept like the dead.

Today, though, you doubted many could sleep through the thunderstorm that split New York’s sky. Each thunder louder than the other, sequences of lightning turning the apartment clear as day. And, courtesy of your boyfriend's gigantic windows, you felt enclosed in the roar of the night.

For some, it could be an entertaining spectacle; nature's power a soothing balm, a way to make you contemplate how much of your worries were small and ephemeral—in the end, there was only the earth and the rain.

You could, in theory, see the poetry of it. But all you felt was an overwhelming fear. The loud noises reminded you of your father's booming voice, the cracking of electricity too similar to his heavy hands landing on you.

John was away, having left a week ago in some undisclosed mission. Undisclosed to the public, of course, because he told you in detail how, actually, he was going to take part in a non-authorized invasion of a terrorist cell. Or so he called it.

You were alone. Only you and the storm and Popsicle purring in your lap, indifferent to his surroundings.

After another furious thunder nearly frightening you to death, you decided to call John. Tears streamed down your face and you felt ridiculous—it’s only rain. And yet.

He probably wouldn't pick up. If he did, he'd be too busy, what could he do?

In the first ring, however, he answered. “Hello, sweet face. Awake at this hour?”

“Oh, it's nothing.” You tried to disguise your sniffles, suddenly beyond embarrassed. “I just wanted to hear your voice.”

Silence, and then—

“Is it the storm, sweetheart?”

“Yes, yeah. I can't sleep, it keeps reminding me of… you know. I'm sorry for bothering you.”

“Don't you ever apologize to me for that, ever,” he retorted, voice tinged with anger, though you knew it wasn't aimed at you.

“Can we—” Another thunder, and this time you yelped, scaring Popsicle so that he ran to hide under the bed. “God, I hate this,” you whimpered. “I just want you here. I miss you so much.”

“I miss you too, you precious thing. Fuck, this is bullshit. A fucking week here and we accomplished shit. They sent me the most incompetent team of motherfuckers, I'm up my ass with their whining and ‘but sir, mister Edgar said we should be cautious’.”

You laughed. “Sounds like a trifle.”

“Ugh, fucking tell me about it. A week without you for this bullshit. Y’know what, I'm out. Hold on there, honey, I'll be with you in a moment.”

And he hung up. And the storm raged on, but you felt a giddy warmness settling on you.

Not before long, he barged in, completely wet, but you couldn't care less. You ran to his arms, letting the raindrops seep through your clothes as tangible proof of his devotion.

“You didn't need to come.”

“Ah, but I promised, didn't I? I'll be with you anytime you need me, and you need me now, don't you?”

You giggled, forgetting all about the fears. It was washed over. “I do. And you need a hot bath.”

“Hmph. You too, little baby. C’mon, join me.”

You sat behind him in the tub, washing his hair, enjoying every second of this quiet moment. He moaned at the contact and squeezed your thigh as it circled his waist.

If the storm was a demonstration of nature's power, John was both its likeness and antithesis—he himself was a force to be reckoned with, an amalgamation of sheer strength and might. Created by men, but a victim of them. You could understand that, quite intimately.

He gave you security in his power, and you gave him peace in your tenderness—the value of a whisper to a snowbank.

“John,” you whispered. “I love you. I'll keep you forever, because you belong to me and I to you. Will you let me?”

You felt, more than you saw, his deep breath, swallowing back tears you knew were spilling down his cheeks. You didn't care what they said, what he did looking back in anger, because this was the only truth.

“Yeah…” He choked up, but soldiered on. “Yeah, my love. I'm never letting you go. I fucking love you to pieces.”

As you lay in bed together you decided—in the end, there was only he and you.

#homelander #homelander x reader #homelander x you #cozy corner domaystic 2024 #prompt: thunderstorm #homelander fanfiction #the boys #my writing #first contribution babey #heavy weather by billie martin in the background

117 notes · View notes

essektheylyss · 3 days

Text

There are some really fun resonances between this exchange from 3x95:

Ashton: If things go wrong, are we gonna see you out there fighting? When things go wrong. Astrid: If they come to me, yes. Ashton: They'll eventually be coming to anyone.

and this one from 2x98:

Caduceus: And when the Dynasty finds out that there's another artifact— Essek: They cannot. Caduceus: When they find out.

And it does make me wonder how much Astrid and Essek, either consciously or subconsciously, compare themselves against the other. Astrid of course points out that she is now a fugitive just like him, and he is clearly displeased, which can likely be attributed mostly to her outing of him to the Hells, but probably also in part because of the reminder.

But it is interesting to compare them because they both exist upon the same spectrum of ideas—that they could control their own position, that they could outplay Ludinus, that they could do better by going it alone.

Does Essek recognize here that if this is played right, Astrid could return to some facsimile of her life, and does he loathe and envy her for that? Does Astrid understand that Essek has pushed himself out of a family that nonetheless still exists, but that he can't go back to, and does she disdain him for that?

Both of them have permanently broken their own ties with their families in different ways, but Essek's actions have pushed him out of his comfort zone, while Astrid's have only served to pull her further into hers. Against all odds, she has not destroyed her safety net so completely that she cannot fall back on it even now, whereas Essek could not have survived at all if he hadn't been willing to rely on the friends he'd made.

I don't think it's an accident, then, that he realized so quickly after the Nein left him to his own devices that he had to run to the Dynasty—it was only about a week after the peace talks concluded that he would've left for Eiselcross. But Astrid is still of the mind that her life is salvageable, so even though she is in hiding, she has remained still fairly close to her home and certainly still within the Empire.

This isn't to say she's incorrect for this assessment, nor do I think Essek is inherently correct for his. In fact, I don't know that Essek would have left and subsequently been willing to take the risks of joining the Nein against Lucien or even assisting the Accord against Ludinus if such immediately untenable circumstances hadn't finally pushed him to do so.

Really, it just serves to highlight how similar they are in terms of pride, in their own belief in their ability to control their circumstances, that it takes well beyond a credible threat to the foundation upon which they stand (or float, as it were) before either of them are willing to act.

#cr spoilers #essek thelyss #astrid becke #critical role #cr meta #I feel like I've definitely touched on a couple of these points in the past but I do think these lines alone are so fun

97 notes · View notes

thewertsearch · 1 day

Text

And now we have to deal with this motherfucker.

It’s probable that Scratch knew things would play out like this, which means this message was always intended for Karkat.

...it's probable that that's the case, but there's always a slight possibility that we're in one of his dark pockets. If so, then Karkat wasn't supposed to see this message, and might be about to learn something Scratch doesn't want him to know.

Mr. Vantas.

Dang it.

I'm delivering this message through the console of one of my numerous unwitting proteges to give you a word of advice, and then you will not hear from me again.

Characteristically unhelpful - and in fact, it might not refer to either of Eridan's victims. We still have Tavros's corpse to deal with, and I'm sure there'll be more bodies hitting the floor before the day is out.

All of the bodies in the room remain as they were. There is clearly nothing to be concerned about whatsoever.

Feferi has an eldritch connection through the Horrorterrrors, and they could probably pull some dark magical shenanigans to get her body moving again. I think that's unlikely, though, since Feferi's ghost is active in the Dream Bubbles, and I don't think she'd actually want to be revived. After all, she's go a job to do.

I'm still convinced that Kanaya's coming back, but it's hardly going to happen while our back is turned. We're out of Kernelsprites, so she can't be prototyped - and we can't use her Dream Moon Slab, if it even exists, because Prospit's been destroyed by Jack.

Frankly, I can't think of a single realistic way to revive her short of time travel, and that's not a road we want to go down. I'm really trying not to think about what that might mean.

I guess that leaves Tavros.

There's definitely something going on with him that we don't understand. He was about to smooch Vriska before she stopped him, and the Breath symbolism surrounding the act makes me think it was more than just a typical Dream Self revival kiss. He has a hidden power, and that power seems to kick in when someone's dying.

Could Tavros be a little less dead than we've been led to believe? It's possible - his arc doesn't scan as complete to me. He'd only obtained the merest shred of confidence before Vriska brought him fatally down to earth, and I think there are still many interesting places you could take his character.

CG: THERE YOU ARE, YOU HAD ME WORRIED DUDE […] CG: QUIT THE BULLSHIT PARTYCLOWN ANTICS AND GET YOUR ASS BACK HERE. […] TC: shut up. CG: WHAT… TC: I SAID SHUT THE MOTHERFUCK UP, MOTHERFUCKER. TC: honk honk honk :o)

Gamzee’s rocking a new quirk. He’s still swapping cases, but they’re alternating every message rather than every character, as though his mind is less scrambled than it used to be.

Could this be how he talks when he's off the slime? He already seems more aware than before, and his grumpiness evokes a hangover - but he's honking more than he used to, which is the opposite of what I'd expect if he was sober.

CG: SERIOUSLY, GET BACK HERE NOW, AND HAVE A SLIME PIE TO RELAX OR SOMETHING. TC: SLIME? TC: there is no more slime, brother. TC: AND ANYWAY. TC: shit was motherfuckin poison, didn't you know?

Yup. It looks like Gamzee’s gone cold featherbeast.

It's not a great time for this to happen, but it's not like we can stop it now. I highly doubt Gamzee was forward-thinking enough to reproduce his pies through alchemy, and things are a little too tense right now to try getting clever with an Appearifier. For better or worse, his supply has dried up for the foreseeable future.

So now, for the first time, we're interacting with a Gamzee who isn't out of his mind on soporifics. His shift in personality is already pretty drastic, and I'm interested in seeing what the real Gamzee is like.

#homestuck liveblog #full liveblog #act 5.2 #s120 #3353

128 notes · View notes

deadsetobsessions · 2 hours

Text

Sea Cryptic!Danny Phantom- pt. 8

If I had a nickel for every time I’ve been to the hospital in the past three years, I’d have enough money to buy a bag of skittles from Target. Most of it wasn’t for me though lol I’ll add this onto the list in a bit, but I tend to do that from my desktop but I’m still currently attached to an IV drip. I’ve also never been this hydrated in my life lmao

——

Danny poked a puffed up pufferfish. The poison floated through his ghost form and did nothing but give him a little zap. Danny chuckled, wiping away a bit of oil that had gotten onto the fish from a nearby oil spill. Jesus fuck. Danny knew that bald headed, easily drawn Vlad wannabe from across the river would do something terrible to Gotham’s waters (not that it needed help being atrocious to Danny’s clean water appreciation).

The puffer fish- Danny gave up on understanding Gotham’s water ecosystem, having realized that it was a cursed mix of saltwater and freshwater and swamp- gave a fearful little wiggle and Danny let it go, turning to the oil particles floating around.

Danny took out his phone.

“Danny? Why the hell are you calling at three in the morning?”

Danny raised a hand and blasted out some ice, gathering the oil up. “Hey Sam. If I got you into contact with Poison Ivy, do you think you could team up to get rid of Lex Luthor’s new holding company in Gotham?”

“Danny, are you asking me to commit an act of ecoterrorism?”

“That’s not even the weirdest thing I’ve ever asked you to do.” Danny placed a hand on the ice mass and flew it, the oil, and himself across the river to Metropolis.

“Deal.” Sam’s voice gets further away as she pulled her phone from her ear. “I’ll text Tucker, see if he could futz with Luthor’s taxes. I heard her doesn’t even give his workers a livable wage, and that’s so not gonna fly.”

“Perfect! Thanks! We could totally meet up and hang out with my new friends!”

“Hah! That Tim guy? The one that wanted you to introduce Phantom to him?”

“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up, goth girl.”

“Sure, dork. I’ll swing by Friday?”

“Sure! Want me to pick you up?” Danny phased through Lex Luthor’s frankly ridiculous amounts of security measures, still completely invisible and towing a giant mass of oil covered ice.

“Cool. Now hang up. I actually need sleep.”

“Ah, you must be dead tired. I get it.”

Sam hung up, and a second later, Danny got a pic of her holding up a middle finger with her signature purple nail polish.

Danny stared down at the sleeping billionaire. Gross. He let his face re enter the visible spectrum and lowered the temperature of the room drastically. Luthor groaned, waking up as he shivered like a hyped up chihuahua.

Danny bared his teeth, glowing green skin reflecting the black holes of the universe and imploding stars and burning planets as he leaned towards the frozen two bit villain.

“RESPECT THE PLANET,” Danny snarled. He unmelted the invisible ice as he simultaneously made the oil visible, the entirety of the oil spill coating every single inch of Luthor’s penthouse bedroom. Danny winked out, but not before snapping a quick picture of Lex Luthor’s absolutely covered in his company’s oil spill.

If Danny had made sure that there were fish droppings mixed in with the oil… that was his own damn business.

——

Danny floated over to a brooding Batman.

“Do you have two hundred dollars on you?” Danny asked in lieu of a greeting.

Batman grunted a yes.

“Two hundred dollars for a photo of Lex Luthor being hit with karma.”

Batman instantly handed over the cash and received a printed out photo of Lex Luthor (in his Lexcorp pjs) covered by fossil fuel.

"Is this..."

"The oil from his oil spill? Yes."

Batman stared at the picture.

"Why was this more expensive than ID'ing corpses?"

"Cause it's funnier. And dead people deserve more consideration than a egg looking ass polluting everything he touches."

Superman zoomed into the space in front of them, face eager.

"I heard you had something about Luthor?"

Danny figured that Batman probably contacted the hero, and confidently said, "$200 for personal use, $300 for commercial use."

Superman quickly got together three hundred dollars in cash and quickly forked it over. Danny gave him another physical copy of the photo and a usb drive with the photo in a digital format.

"I am so pinning this up." Superman muttered.

"Get out of my city." Batman said flatly. Superman waved a hand, beamed at Danny, and left.

"Did you know Gotham's waters is a mixture of freshwater, swamp, and saltwater habitats?"

Batman grunted.

"Also, please stop stalking Danny Fenton. It's odd."

Batman swiveled his head over. "What."

Danny stared him down. "Stop. Stalking. Innocent. Bystanders. Or else I will recreate the phrase "drowned rat" with you as the subject."

Batman stilled.

"I don't kill, by the way. I can, however, dunk you in the sea and lift you up like a goth version of Simba."

Batman relaxed minutely. "I can't."

"And why not?"

Batman gave him a despairing look. "Have you met my children?"

"... Point."

#dcxdp #danny phantom #batman #tim drake #lex luthor #lex luthor is hated in gotham #bamf danny phantom #sea cryptid danny phantom

89 notes · View notes

jurijyuu · 7 hours

Text

I wanna take a ride on your radio stick (Alastor x Reader)

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

AlastorxReader Smut

Summary: Being sick sucks ass. Unfortunately, your boyfriend is the Radio Demon who’s too busy to keep an eye on you as you recover. As you sleep through your cold, your boyfriend leaves you his mic to keep in touch in case you need help.

Note: No, you do not use his mic as a dildo. That's Vox's kink.

What's in Store: Gender-Neutral Reader, Masturbation, Dry Humping, Established relationship, Male Masturbation, Alastor discovers ASMR

Your POV

When you woke up delirious and exhausted one day, your boyfriend practically panicked. It was odd to see him fret, so unsure and unsettled over a cold. It’s not like dying from illness in Hell would be permanent either so his frittering about was completely uncalled for.

Darling, have some soup. Darling, drink some water. Darling, I brought some medicine. Between your fuzzy senses and bleary awareness throughout the last couple of days, these moments of attention and care piled up into memory. Ah, but he really was sweet even when his worry was unnecessary. When you were better, you would pay him back.

That said, for the first time in days, you felt somewhat clear headed, the fog of sleep no longer clinging to you in moments of consciousness. You tried to remember how long you’d been out. Three days? Four? Alastor would know but the deer man wasn’t here. Weakly, you searched for his presence. The house was silent except for the sounds of the bayou where your shared home stood, no footsteps on creaking floorboards or humming as he went about his routine. You did, however, sense his power. It was faint compared to what he exuded but it was there, not too far from you. Turning to the side, you found his staff leaning neatly on the nightstand.

Right. He had business to attend to at the hotel. You vaguely remember him telling you that earlier along with how he’d leave his microphone here just in case you needed to contact him. Why he refused to get even just a pager, you really didn’t understand. But you weren’t complaining right now. The faint trace of his magic from the microphone was comforting in the absence of the man himself.

Sluggishly, you crawled to the edge of the bed and reached for the staff to bring into bed with you.

“Al?” You called weakly hoping to hear your boyfriend’s voice but only received silence as a response. So he was too busy. Unfortunate, though it’s probably for the best as you only wanted to hear him and that wasn’t a good enough reason to interrupt his work.

Still…

Closing your eyes, a few memories flitted through your mind. A calming hand, and sweet murmurs asking if you were feeling better, what did you need? Your lover had always been good at caring for you but it was never with quite the amount of tenderness your faint memories provided. He’d sounded so unbelievably sweet that you regretted not being able to see him through most of it, fighting for consciousness as you were. Your heart clenched and stuttered thinking of your tall menace of a gentleman actually being a gentle man.

It could have been your fever or just your imagination trying to fill in the blanks of what face your usually chipper lover looked like as he cared for you but you felt flush as you laid in bed. Alastor…

He usually grinned a toothy smile meant to intimidate or fool anyone into thinking he was always having a jolly good time. But on occasion, you’d caught him with a small one, eyes half-lidded, lost in a soft sweet song from yesteryear, oblivious to the world. Sometimes those eyes would be looking at you, something electric lighting them up when you looked back at him.

Had he looked at you with that tired and lazy stare? Waiting patiently for you to get better as he took care of all your needs from changing your clothes to even bathing your body.

Heat pulsed down your body to between your legs. That wasn’t the fever.

With a groan you turned to your side, the faint wave of arousal heating you up as it passed through you. Should you? Shouldn’t you? If you waited long enough, it would go away on its own. But then again, this was a rare opportunity to help yourself since Alastor was out and left you alone for once.

Your throat felt dry as the arousal continued its slow but blaring spike. Ahh fuck it. You blamed your still feverish mind for giving in to quick relief.

Reaching into your pants, you fondled your sex through your underwear, gentle and slow, almost shy. When Alastor touched you, it was always urgent and demanding, his dominant personality on full display even as he was servicing your body. But what you wanted right now was that soft Alastor.

One faint memory in particular came to mind. Your body had been burning hotter than it was right now.

“Oh dear. You’re sweating so much, darling. Let me wipe you down.”

His ungloved hand reached out to help you sit up against the headboard, careful not to jolt you too harshly. There was a faint sloshing of water. With your eyes still sleepy, you didn’t see him but he must’ve rolled his sleeves up, coat put away somewhere since he was home.

“Easy there. Let me take off your shirt, sweetheart.”

Your heartbeat picked up as you remembered the faint brushes of his fingers as he unbuttoned your sleepwear. With your free hand, you imitated your imaginary lover. Those long fingers peppered little touches on your chest, on your sternum and down your belly, another wave of heat following their path down but never quite reaching where you’d wanted them to go. He was always a tease.

Your breath hitched as you imagined him looking at your bare chest, one strong hand firmly keeping you in place against the headboard as the other went to grab a washcloth. Did he rub little circles on your clavicle with his thumb while he was at it? You’d like to think he did as you replicated his motions, rubbing your thumb in light circles over your sex.

This soft Alastor didn’t speak much, not wanting to disturb your rest more than he already was. Instead, he crooned a soft melody, keeping you teetering in limbo between wakefulness and sleep as your body grew hotter.

A cold cloth passed over your shoulder causing you to keen, your nipples hardening in response to the imaginary chill, something your lover probably noticed. With firm yet gentle strokes, he patted the wet cloth against your sweaty body, each touch so gentle that it stoked a fire in your belly. Every time the cloth was washed, wrung and brought back to your body, you hissed, the cool sensation a stark contrast against your heated skin and heated core.

“Almost done, sweetheart.”

He was talking in a lower tone, almost whispering, voice turning the slightest bit gravelly. This was supposed to cool you down so why was it getting you hotter? And did he notice that the flush creeping up your chest had nothing to do with your cold?

Finally, he’d finished wiping your back and arms, tossing the washcloth into the basin with a loud splash.

In reality, he’d dressed you up in a new shirt and you went back to sleep but not this imaginary deer man.

“Oh darling, you still look so flushed.”

Clawed hands gently cupped your heated cheeks, their coolness shooting straight to your aroused sex in a way that was a little embarrassing given that your man was only trying to clean you up. And even with your eyes closed, you knew he noticed, his stare feeling electric on your exposed skin.

“Oh I might have missed a spot.”

There was a light teasing in his voice, only masked by the rough murmur it had turned to. You heard the water slosh again. A cold and slightly rough sensation brushed against your erect nipple. You moaned in shocked pleasure as it jolted lighting through your body. A similarly shocked gasp came from your imaginary Alastor, a light break in his static as his hand lightly clenched.

You felt boneless as his other hand guided you to lay back down as he cooed softly.

“Your fever is back up, darling. Let me try to cool you down.”

The washcloth rubbed lightly against your other nipple and your stomach clenched. It felt so good. He kept at it, playing with one or the other until you were a writhing mess. You tried to open your eyes but they were too heavy.

“Shhh sweetheart. Let me take care of you.”

One claw tip, razor sharp, lightly flicked your nipple, rubbing on it just a bit before tracing a line down your navel, down your bellybutton and stopping just at the waistband of your pajamas before ghosting over your sex.

He said nothing but the sound of his chuckles transformed that sweet face into his usual smug one. Arrogant prick. He was planning to tease you til you begged, wasn’t he? You were almost tempted to let him play with you until you got to that point. A wicked smile stretched in his face.

“Don’t tease me, Al.”

“Tease you, dear? I’m just trying to clean you up. Sit up so I can put a new shirt on you.”

You wanted to wipe that smug smile off his face. Fueled by arousal and spite, you imagined pulling the deer man into bed with you, tossing him over until you had him under you. You imagined straddling his skinny waist and letting him feel the results of his ‘cleaning up.’ With your hand still cupping your heated sex, you ground down on it only to gasp when something cool bumped into the back of your hand.

Breaking away from your fantasy, you spot Alastor’s staff under you, faintly buzzing with your lover’s magic. Again, you blamed it on your fever but having something of his right there as you imagined topping your arrogant radio man was too delicious to resist.

Taking your hand away from your sex, you positioned the length of the staff to align with your core and then lowered yourself down. The cold metal glided against your sex as you rubbed yourself on it. It was too thin but if you closed your eyes, you could imagine that you were holding your skinny deer man, rubbing yourself against his equally hard cock.

Fuck. It shouldn’t feel so good but it did. You swung your hips a bit to feel more of that length, the harsh metal rubbing at just the right places to send pleasure up and down your spine. The fantasy in your head shattered as something else replaced it.

You held onto the microphone tighter, pulling it closer to you as you imagined your Alastor walking in on this display. Coming in from a hard day’s work only to find you so desperately chasing release against his microphone. Could he hear the sounds you were making?

A moan escaped your lips. He would be so stunned. He didn’t know that you were this horny. He was always so proper and only recently accepted intimate contact. How could you tell him that you just wanted to rub yourself all over him? Feel the hard planes of his body against your skin. Push him down and ride his cock until he was a mess of screams and broken radio static. He was so sensitive, so new to sex. You wanted to ruin him for anyone else.

He’d never let you be on top though, too busy wanting to fuck you into the mattress. Gods, he was rough. He’d thrust with all his lithe body, wringing screams of want and desperate pleasure from you until you skull banged against the headboard. Then he’d kiss you to pin you in place.

Of course you wanted to do the same to him so why not start with this part of him? The mic had a capped bottom, giving you a lovely ridge to play with. Pushing the staff under you, you desperately humped against that ridge, delicious friction sending unimaginable thrills up your spine and all the way to your head until it was empty except for that pleasure.

“Alastor.”

The microphone head pressed into your chest, its ridges lightly rubbing against your skin and your nipples with each roll of your hips, shooting little jolts of ticklish pleasure through you. Ohh it felt so good. You gasped and moaned as you reached higher and higher peaks. Could Alastor hear what you were doing? The thing was always on so he probably could. Was he listening to you fuck yourself against his mic while sitting in a meeting, unable to leave? Were your cries throwing off his focus? Was he itching to come back home to you and see exactly what you were doing?

“Allll—“

Could he feel your heated sex as you pressed it against the length of his staff? The thing was a part of him after all. If so, how was he feeling right now? Scandalized? Aroused? Horrified? If he were here, would he push you away or take his microphone’s place? Either way, his clawed hand would have to grab you by your hips as you continued to gyrate against his staff. The ghostly sensations of his hands on you fueling the fire coursing through your veins. Fuck! You were so close.

You pinched your nipple as you ground down hard, your fingers joining the staff in teasing your sensitive sex, the pleasure building up until you tipped over the edge.

“Al! I—I’m coming!” You moaned into the microphone, wanting your lover to hear your pleasured cries, all cares gone with the wind as you rode your high into unconsciousness.

Alastor's POV

A meeting with the Princess of Hell was the last thing on his mind right now. A sick lover awaited him at home, needing to be cared for, but he was forced to come to this useless meeting instead. So very unfortunate. Given, the recent announcement of the new extermination timeline was a huge concern for the girl but that was honestly not his problem to worry about so long as the hotel and his business partner remained unscathed.

Needless to say, the princess was determined to ‘speed up’ what progress she could on getting their two guests to achieve redemption.

“Volunteer work idea! We can do volunteer work as part of our redemption path. Doing good deeds is part of being a good person, right? Well, we should help out some of the sinners in the territorial war districts.” Charlie raised up one of her hand drawn illustrations showing what he assumed to be the said territorial war zone. It depicted the hotel crew helping clean and bandage the wounded and helpless.

All so very trivial given those souls would respawn in time unless they were faced with Carmine weaponry. In that case, and in all cases really, those souls should have known what they were getting themselves into when battling for territory. He’d thought of a hundred ways the princess’ idea could go wrong and was about to suggest them when he heard a familiar voice ringing through his mind. He picked up the signal from his microphone.

“Al?” Voice hoarse from disuse, his little darling called out to him once you had woken up. How he wished he could come to your side right at that moment. The few times you had been coherent during this whole ordeal had been far too few and short. A hellish flu was so uncommon and there had been no ways to heal from it other than to wait it out.

He reevaluated what he needed to do. On one hand, he could be helpful and plan this whole redemption exercise for Charlie to ensure no trouble occurred. However, the princess took a very hands-on approach to things. Bringing up any problems would only prolong the meeting…He sighed internally. What to do?

With half an ear to the chattering princess, he focused the other half of his attention to whatever sounds his microphone could pick up. If anything alarming was transmitted, he was ready to shadow home as quickly as possible.

“…We can implement a buddy system. It’s a little dangerous to just go alone and…” Ah. For once, the princess recognized a flaw in her plan before he even had to mention it. Wonderful. She was learning to be a bet—

“Ah…oh..”

Any admiration he might have had for the princess’ awareness of the dangers her plan posed was halted by a breathy moan in his mind’s ear. Had you gotten hurt trying to move around? From how delirious you had been prior, he could imagine you falling off the bed trying to look for him or care for yourself. But he hadn't heard any noises indicating an accident.

Immediately, all his focus moved to his microphone, magick at the ready to bring him back. Charlie’s plans would have to wait. He was about to apologize to the princess and leave when another sound, a soft sigh of pleasure entered his mind.

What?

It was soft, so very soft, but your rhythmic breathing was steadily increasing in pace, dotted with little sighs and shy moans. He knew those sounds all too familiarly, aimed to bring them out as he played with your body most evenings. Surely…it wasn’t what he thought it was?

A high keening sound, muffled slightly and marred by the transmission’s static pierced his mind and smothered any doubt he had about exactly what he was hearing.

The sound of your whines rang in his ear, reverberating through his head like a dinner bell and awakening a hunger he’d only ever felt with you. Sinful little thing. You had to know that he could hear you with his microphone so close to you. You were doing this on purpose! His static crackled as your noises picked up.

Your muffled cries increased in volume and urgency as he could now hear the subtle rustling of bedsheets moving with you. Whatever fantasy had brought you to touch yourself, you were currently lost in.

He twitched as tendrils of arousal slithered their way into his veins. His wicked lover was casting a siren call, delirious, weak, deliciously vulnerable and obviously asking to be fucked.

He took a slow breath to cool the heat starting to rise in his body. Why did you start this now, of all times? He’d been with you for days before this! Your timing was terrible. Or maybe you had planned this, wanting him to come rushing to you as soon as possible. His teeth clenched in his smile.

Why was it that the first thing you did when you finally had the energy was to crave sexual fulfillment? To pleasure yourself when he wouldn’t be there to assist you?

It was debased and primitive of you. He wasn’t sure whether to be irritated by your lewd behavior or proud. But he did know that your little act was stirring things south of where was appropriate in front of the princess and her girlfriend. Keeping a neutral expression on his face, he shifted slightly where he stood by the princess’ desk. He needed to get them out.

In a bid to keep his composure, he played a little jig from his chest, something light and cheerful, a complete and total clash to the heat building below his belly. If he waited just a bit more…but Charlie looked ready to burst into song. He couldn’t have that.

“An excellent idea!” He chimed, cutting off whatever Charlie was saying. Both women turned to him, one in pleasant surprise and the other curious.

“Really?” Charlie sparkled at his half-serious agreement, throwing beams of sunshine from her eyes that only served to irritate him further. The heat running up and down his body made him even more impatient with the princess’ inane suggestions.

“Yes. Why don’t you scout out the perfect area for us to do this little venture. Have to ensure the safety of our guests, after all.” Before the women could get their bearings together, he was already gently pushing Charlie out the door, with her tail of a lover sure to follow. “Make a day trip of it, even. I’m sure there’s lots to see.”

“H..hnnnggh..!”

His smile almost cracked at the delicious whine that poured from your darling mouth. He wished he could be there to drink it up right at that moment. But composure. Composure. Disguising the sense of urgency pumping through his system with enthusiastic chatter about casualty statistics and needing to ensure they didn’t overstep into Overlord territories, he managed to get the two women out of the shared office space in record time.

“Have fun now, you two.” He waved them off, their faces a little bewildered but they didn’t really have much of a choice after he’d closed the door on their faces.

The door rattled in his haste but he managed to lock it quickly. He once again tried to summon his magick to bring him away when a croon reverberated through his chest.

“Alastorrrr…”

His breath caught.

Static ran up his spine to the roll of those pleasured r’s. He’d never admit to how his knees buckled at the sound, a unique quality he could only attribute to his darling. But it was different somehow. A wicked idea popped into his mind, the static filter in his love’s voice adding a certain flavor he’d never associated with sex before.

Making sure to seal the room so that not even a speck of dust could get in or out, he sat down on his chair. With a flick of his wrist, he transferred the transmission from his mind to the radio sitting at his desk. From there, your voice played.

“Don’t tease me, Al.”

“Oh but aren’t you doing the teasing here, darling?” He smiled deviously, imagining your face as he said so. You wouldn’t have heard him muse back. For what he had in mind, he’d made it a one-way broadcast purposefully.

Another sigh escaped your lips sending heat down to his already aching member. With deft hands, he unbuckled his belt, slowly easing himself out of his slacks. The hair of his navel stood on end at the rush of cold air hitting the sensitive skin. His cock stood ready and weeping from just the sounds of your debauchery. It was truly pathetic but you had that effect on him. He palmed himself briefly, imagining it was your hands taking him out of his clothes. Shy and careful. You were always very gentle with him. And it drove him mad with want.

Grabbing his cock, he started to stroke, slow at first, getting a bit faster as more of his precum leaked out. From the radio, he heard rustling. He could picture it then, your skin gliding in the sheets of your bed, a thin layer of sweat giving your flushed face a delectable shine. You writhed with want, unfulfilled and calling for him. Your labored breathing sounded lovely and lewdly through the radio.

He groaned, eyes closed as he pictured being there with you as you crawled over to him, hands greedy to stroke his member. The sheets rustled as they tugged at your knees, too eager to disentangle yourself from the blankets. Your hands delicately wrapped around his cock, face aglow as you admired it. You looked so ready to take it into your little mouth.

He hissed and stroked, slower this time to match his image of you. He licked his lips as his breathing quickened.

He’d never understood the appeal of listening to such filthy broadcasts. Saw it as a distasteful use of air time that could have been used for news, jazz or something else. He’d tried it once and could only grimace at the theatrical moaning of the actors at the station. The storylines were ridiculously shallow too.

But with you on the other side, a broadcast exclusive for his ears only…He shuddered, ears twitching to catch the lightest of sounds for his mind to work into fantasy. His hips thrust up into his hand, presenting you with a prize you so very much wanted. Naughty little thing.

The broadcast buzzed sharply, sending a jolt through his chest in shock. Something had hit the microphone. For a moment, his heart stopped, thinking that you did end up over extending yourself and collapsed. But just as quickly, a new sensation started.

“Fuck!”

His free hand rushed to gripped the armrest of his chair tightly. It was the only way he could channel the sudden rush that overtook his body, lest the hand squeezing his cock tighten too much. Something hot and moist pressed against his extension and he nearly choked at the sudden pressure.

He could feel it! A silky glide. He could feel you, your hot sex rubbing up and down against the shaft of his staff, his mind directing that sensation to his crotch. A shiver ran up his spine, the ghost sensations of your hands trailing along his staff being mirrored onto his body.

“Fuck.”

A similar curse whispered huskily through the radio. So he wasn’t the only one feeling sensitive. You moaned as he felt the corresponding brush of your sex against his staff, against him. Sweat collected on his brow as his body grew hotter in response. It was as if you were there with him.

“Ah—Alastor!”

“Yes, darling? Come and rut yourself on me. Let me feel you.” His free hand traced up his chest, claws mimicking the way you would slowly and intentionally trail your fingers up his body when you were being intimate. Tugging at his shirt teasingly, your hands lightly splayed against his chest. He arched his back into the touch. You knew how much he liked your touch. Always tracing lines along his shoulders, counting his ribs.

“Oh..” He groaned, hand moving faster along his cock as you found a steady rhythm to pleasure yourself to. He could feel the ghostly heat and slick of your fluids starting to smear and make a mess of his microphone. His thumb brushed the weeping red tip, paying close attention to smear his precum, imagining it was yours starting to coat his cock.

“Hmnngh. Al—feels good.”

“Does it, darling? Hn. You’re making a mess. I’ll have you clean that up, you know.” As if you could hear him, another pathetic whine squeaked through his radio feed. His static broke at the sound. “Yes. You’ll have to take responsibility for making it so filthy.”

He could feel his extension get crushed between your body and the mattress, your body heat getting relayed onto his own. You were so desperate to bed him, keening and moaning sloppily to a fantasy him of your own design. He did the same. His mental image of you bent down, face close to his cock, breath brushing teasingly over the sensitive tip, waiting for his command. He smirked through the buzz that ran through his body at the pathetic sight, concentration going blurry as lust took over.

“Use your mouth.”

Another high pitched whine. You bent low, static-filtered breathing feeling so close and warm on his cock. He summoned a tentacle to join his hand in working his member, its slimy texture a poor replacement for your tongue but…he growled at the first lick of it…good enough. As long as he thought it was you, it would be good enough. His teeth dug into his lip, stifling his groans as he guided ‘your tongue.’ A slow lick on each of his balls, up the underside of his cock, teasing the vein there that you knew he liked.

“That’s good, dear. Ah! So good. Let me reward you.”

His free hand twitched, imagining reaching for your hole, working you open slowly with his fingers. The silky walls of your cavern were a familiar sensation his brain provided in the absence of the actual thing. His fingers pushed in and out slowly, tracing the outer edges before dipping back in. Your moans were constant now, a never ending chant of your pleasure and his name. His head swam with sensations, imagined and transmitted. A part of him reveled in this pleasure you gave him, that you didn’t know he was partaking in.

“That’s it, darling. My darling doe. Take your pleasure…” He gasped, the muscles in his stomach growing taut as the coils of ecstasy wound themselves layer after layer. “…give me mine too. Make me cum with your mouth.”

From your sounds and the rough brushes of heat ghosting along his body, he could tell you were close, riding that fantasy of yours without reservation.

“Not yet, dear. Hnngh. Not..yet.” It was getting harder to breathe as his heart pounded, trying to reach that high while you were still going. He needed the stimuli. He craved it. He was so close. The wet heat from your body transmitted from his staff to his cock, your voice garbled pleasured sounds from his radio. So close. So close.

“Al! I—I’m coming!”

“Wait, darling. You can take a little more. Just a bit—”

But his plea didn’t reach you. He heard you scream directly into the microphone, so loud and amorous that his mind stuttered, worried that the sound ringing through the room would somehow escape and be heard by some passerby.

All at once, he lost the rhythmic strokes against his body as your undulating stopped. Your salacious broadcast had ended.

He rutted up into his hand furiously. He hadn’t finished yet, but he was so close, a bit feral as he tried to reach his own high now that you had achieved yours. But it was no use. His tentacle stroked precum and slime-slick pumps against his cock but without your voice, or even your ghostly touch, it felt like nothing. He growled, frustrated, slamming his hands against the armrests as he leaned back into his chair, defeated.

“Fuck!” What a tease! An absolute menace! He cursed you as he tried to calm himself, scrubbing his clean hand down his face. Massaging his temples, a realization dawned on him, reaching his orgasm was next to impossible now. He breathed deep.

But his blood still pumped in his veins, hot and wanting. He couldn’t regain his composure, too worked up. His hand reached to pull off his bow tie and free his neck to get some air. It didn’t help. You damned sinful temptation. He never had to suffer such irritating incidents like this before you. He growled and hissed, a primal aggression taking over.

This was why he had been happy to never feel these urges. It was crude, having his mind controlled by his lower body.

No matter, he would get you to fix it.

With one final deep breath, he stood and tidied his desk, making sure to leave nothing amiss. There was no point in tidying himself up. Not when he intended to make a mess of you in just a moment. At the thought, he decided to let you see the proud work you’d done on him. He took off his coat and rolled up his sleeves. You liked seeing him disheveled, more casual as you put it. Your heartbeat always picked up at every little show of his skin.

It was with this appearance, top buttons undone and slacks clinging onto his hips by some work of demon magick that wasn’t his, that he teleported back home to you. He was ready to see your surprised face, flushed still from your orgasm and slightly disoriented. Then he’d fuck you back into your coma for daring to pull such a stunt in the middle of the day. He buzzed at the plan, cock aching once again.

When he’d stepped foot into your bedroom, the sight that greeted him was a disheveled lover, hand still in clutching onto his microphone as you dozed. Seeing you weak and asleep, the urgency in his body cooled slightly, worry taking its place. Immediately, he’d made it to the bedside, checking to see if you were alright.

Light breaths. A small sigh of relief escaped his lips before his stomach clenched to remind him of his current predicament. His eyes roamed your body, making sure you were alright. When nothing seemed amiss, his eyes narrowed in irritation. He’d suspected the possibility that you had passed out after your performance but the disappointment in seeing you unconscious still stung.

Up close, he could see you, feel you, smell you. You reeked of cum, having fainted as soon as you’d climaxed. How filthy. How divine. The scent was wonderful, heady and musky, traces of your activity still lingering in the air and on his microphone. The fire in his belly roiled to life once again. Stupid little thing. Making his life just that much more difficult and wonderful than it already was.

Precious, lewd little thing. His heartbeat quickened as the rush of lust came back. He’d had all intentions of taking out his frustrations on your more than willing body but seeing you like this, needing your rest, he couldn’t bring himself to do it.

But it didn’t mean he wouldn’t get his end. With one knee on the bed, he approached you, wanting to be as close as he could without disturbing your slumber. His hand found his needy cock once again, palm warm and inviting as he stroked from the base to tip. His other hand wound itself in your hair, gently petting you and relishing your warmth as his hand worked his member over your sleeping form.

His ears picked up the sound of your breathing, gentle and soft, just like everything about you. And you let someone like him defile that softness. He swallowed, drool already pooling in his mouth at the meal in front of him that he could not devour as he wished to.

The smell of your shared bed, your sex, your cum, your want lingering in the air. It enveloped him completely. This was his home. His den. His lover. His mate. While the little broadcast was exquisite, the live thing would always be better.

And he can wait for you to get better. Oh, all the things he would do to you once you were well. Just, he needed to take the edge off a little. He breathed in and let himself get lost in the feeling, the heat of his body rising and he got close to his climax again. His hips bucked into his hand, chasing that high as he watched your peaceful face. Shudders racked his body. He was so close. If only he could hear you call his name with that pretty voice of yours.

“Alastor?” His breath hitched. His hand had unconsciously clenched in your hair, not enough to hurt but it did stir you awake. His eyes met yours and his climax finally hit him under your stare. The knot in his stomach unwound and he watched his cum spurt without his control. Some of it splattered onto your bewildered face, causing you to flinch.

“D-did you just…?” A small hand went up to the new stains on your face, wiping the smear onto your fingers as you studied it as if you couldn’t comprehend exactly what it was. Fair enough. This wasn’t behavior he ever would have done before he met you. He was slightly embarrassed by that but there was something satisfying about seeing his cum on your cheek.

“Well, you did too, didn’t you?” A clawed hand carded through your hair, slightly smearing it with his spend though you were still too bewildered to notice. His voice was husky, still riding high as his body sang in completion. You blushed madly as you remembered what you’d done and why he was here, like this.

“T-that’s—“

“Hush. Don’t worry about it, darling. Though it did get me a little worked up.” With a few snaps of his fingers, you were both cleaned up and the bed made around you. It took more effort to do as all he wanted to was collapse next to you but no. He had to make sure you were comfortable before he did. As lovely a sight that you made, he wouldn’t let you rest in filth.

Neither of you spoke as he climbed to his side of the bed, sitting against the headboard while you looked at him from where you laid. Perhaps your stillness slowed your brain processes as well. You still seemed tense, shocked. He started petting your head, an action that calmed you just as much as it did him. He needed just a few moments.

When complete clarity finally returned to him, he faced you, a teasing grin on his lips as his eyes narrowed.

“I hope you know…” He leaned down to peer into your eyes, holding your gaze and relishing his lone figure reflected in its shine. His eyes roamed over your body, a slow take that he was sure you caught before he looked into your eyes and continued. Despite having only just finished, electric lust still buzzed in his chest, vibrating through his voice as he growled low a promise to the little troublemaker. “…that when you’ve fully recovered, darling, you shouldn’t expect to get out of this bed for a long while.”

Beneath his palm, you trembled, your little shakes traveling from his fingertips to his cock. Your eyes switched from confusion to dread, sensing the underlying threat and seduction in his tone. He traced a lazy pattern on your cheek, cupping the supple flesh to feel the fever induced heat. Like a demure little creature, you leaned into his touch.

And like the wretched little thing you were, you casually drew his thumb into your hot mouth, all of that sweet dread replaced by even sweeter confidence. With eyes never leaving his own, you gave his thumb a bold slow lick. He held back the urge to press his thumb down into that lascivious tongue.

“Looking forward to it…” The tease had the gall to smirk at him, teeth lightly prickling his captured appendage. Clarity and mirth sparkled in your eyes. “Lover.”

AO3

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel fanfic #alastor #hazbin alastor #hazbin fanfic #hazbin hotel fanfiction #alastor x reader #smut #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel smut #alastor x you #hazbin alastor x reader

67 notes · View notes

a-court-of-fics-and-errors · 16 hours

Text

Keep Moving Forwards, Part 5

Azriel x Reader Fic

Summary: After finally deciding to leave your abusive and manipulative mate for good, you find unexpected companionship with Azriel, the Shadowsinger of the Night Court. As you navigate the aftermath of your traumatic relationship, you struggle to understand where the mating bond went wrong and contemplate your path forward, vowing never to return to the past.

Find other parts here: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

Content Warning: This story contains depictions of extreme emotional manipulation and abuse, mentions of physical abuse, loss of a child, and general trauma.

Word Count: 4.0K

Author's Note:

This is the first part of what I anticipate will be a multi-part series. Unlike my previous works, this fanfiction delves deeper than just fluff, exploring complex emotional landscapes. As I navigate this new writing journey, I kindly ask for gentle feedback. The topics addressed are profoundly impactful, touching many lives with diverse experiences. Please be gentle with yourselves and others. Healing is a journey, and everyone processes it differently. Be kind to yourself. Take what resonates, and leave what doesn’t.

Please continue reading, being aware of the above content warnings, ensuring you are in a healthy headspace. Give yourself time to process and be gentle with yourself.

That night, you barely slept. Each time you moved, it felt like a searing poker stabbed through your midsection, and even the smallest movements caused pain somewhere in your body. Instead, you slept in short bursts, and during the wakeful moments, you stared at the ceiling, making out the carvings in the beams above you, stars, mountains, maps, animals. Seemingly all scratched delicately into the ceiling beams above you.

The night’s shadows slowly gave way to the morning sunlight as it drifted across the floor, over the furs on your bed, and crested your face. From outside the window, you heard the chatter of men’s voices and laughter, though you couldn’t make out any distinct conversations. As the morning waned, you heard the more frequent sound of metal on metal—sword fighting, you assumed—glancing at the swords propped onto the fireplace mantel. Grunts, groans, and occasional raucous laughter drifted through the window, along with the smell of cooked food, which made your stomach growl angrily. You allowed yourself to shut your eyes for a while, the warmth of the sun warming your cheeks. Then you heard a light rap on the door.

You opened your eyes, turning to the door to hear a small voice call out, “Can I come in?” When you didn’t respond, it called out again, “I have your breakfast.”

Without waiting for a response, the door opened slightly, and a woman poked her head through the door. At first, you noticed her hair, pulled into a bun on the back of her head, with a piece of orange scrap fabric tied around her hairline to pull it back from her face. Then you realized what her face looked like. She had the same tanned, olive skin tone as Azriel, but her face was more scar than skin. Her right eye, which had a turquoise hue, was surrounded by pink scar tissue, looking like a mixture of a burn and a slash, extending almost completely down the right side of her face and branching out to her nose and lips. The left side of her face, while also scarred, was not nearly as jarring as the right. She flashed you a small smile before entering the room. She pushed the door closed behind her with her foot as you took in the rest of her form.

Like Azriel, she had large bat wings, but they had cuts and scars like her face, and in a few areas, it looked as though there were holes in the membrane between the bones. She wore a dark brown tunic with a tie at the waist that covered most of her up to her neck. Her arms were wrapped in cotton bandages with brown and red stains from wear. You couldn’t tell if she was wounded or if she wore the bandages for warmth, as the sleeves of her tunic were ratty and tattered. She wore a pair of oversized lighter brown pants, tucked into short boots with holes, patched with pieces of fabric. All in all, she looked like she had walked through a battlefield before coming in. When you saw the container of berries sitting atop what looked like a bowl of steaming oatmeal, you disregarded her appearance, your mouth salivating at the sight of the delicious red and blue juices already seeping in.

The female didn’t look at you, only seeming to stare down at the bowls in her hand as she approached. Deep within her eyes was something long lost, and though you couldn’t place what it was, you knew that your eyes also held the same longing. When she reached your bedside, the distinct smell of an unbathed body hit you, and the dirt caked under her fingernails made you question the care you’d received. Your trust in Azriel waned slightly.

She ran her thumb over the lip of the bowl, sucking her own pale, chapped, and peeling lip into her teeth before speaking, barely over a whisper. “Azriel asked me to bring this to you.”

She offered the bowl towards you, and through a wince, you raised your hands to take it. “Thank you,” you rasped.

The female turned her mouth up slightly, still looking towards the floor as she rested the bowl on the side of the bed. She brought her hands back to clasp in front of her, idly picking at a scab on the back of her hand that looked reddened and angry. She opened her mouth to speak and then paused, her eyes scanning the floor. “I’m supposed to look at your ribs,” she said.

Silence fell heavily in the room. “Alright,” you finally said.

More silence. “I can leave, let you have breakfast, and then come back.” She looked at you, still not meeting your eyes. Without saying anything, she turned to walk out, but you called out, telling her to stop.

“Would you—” you started. “Would you mind staying?”

The female turned to look over her shoulder, still casting her gaze downward. “Yes,” she whispered. She returned to the bedside, standing over you, hands fidgeting as she continued scratching at her already open wounds. You pulled the breakfast onto your stomach, shifting slightly, which caused a sharp pain to shoot through you. Your wincing made the female shy away slightly, as though your pain was her own. You brought one of the fresh berries to your mouth, the sweet juices already staining your fingers pink. As you let it settle on your tongue, the sourness made the back of your mouth tighten and salivate. Crushing the berry against the roof of your mouth, an explosion of sweetness coated your taste buds, and you momentarily forgot your predicament. You let your stained hand drop to the bed in berry-ridden ecstasy before turning to the female next to you. “Would you like one?” you offered, holding the bowl of berries out to her.

The female looked at the offer, her tongue slightly parting her lips as she debated. She quickly shook her head no, returning her gaze to the floor.

“Are you sure?” you asked again. “There’s no way I can eat all of these.” The female still didn’t respond. “And I would hate for them to go to waste,” you continued.

She raised her head slightly, scanning your face for any underlying meaning or trickery. When she found none, she tentatively reached out and plucked the smallest berry from your bowl, quickly bringing it to her mouth. You smiled. “Have another,” you offered, throwing another berry into your own mouth.

“That’s okay,” the female said, gesturing a thankful refusal.

You chewed the berry. “Then at least sit,” you offered, using your head to gesture to the wooden stool near the wall.

Without responding, the female went and sat on the stool, without moving it towards you. “You can pull it closer,” you offered.

Eyes widening at the request, she stared ahead before gulping, standing quickly, grabbing the chair, and bringing it over to sit next to you, her eyes firmly planted on the mattress. You continued to eat, looking her over. She seemed young, around your age, maybe a few years younger, and skinny. Her cheekbones were prominent even with the scar, and her eyes were shadowed and slightly sunken. Her hands, covered in tiny nicks and scabs, were merely bone with skin clinging to them. You wondered if the rest of her body was as emaciated. You offered the bowl to her again, and she refused.

Resigning yourself to her refusal, you finally said, “I’m Y/N.”

The female paused slightly, then peered at you under her brows, head bowed. “Anthea,” she returned, barely over a whisper.

“It’s nice to meet you, Anthea.” The female merely nodded as you handed her the bowl of berries and oatmeal. “Would you mind putting this on the table?”

Anthea took the bowl and placed it on the table before returning her clasped hands to her lap. You waited, thinking she might say something, but after about a minute of silence, you realized you two might spend the entire day just staring at each other.

“How can I best lay for you to look at me?” you asked. For the first time, Anthea looked up, assessing your body.

“What hurts most?” she asked.

You laughed slightly. “What doesn’t?”

Anthea’s lips lightly raised at the corners, not quite a smile but hinting at one. “Azriel told me your left side is shattered. If you don’t mind, I think turning you on your right would be best.”

You nodded, gulping down the thought that even moving your arms caused pain, and rolling on your side might just kill you. Anthea rose from her stool, standing at the end of the bed while you winced and pushed yourself up slightly. “I can help if you’d like,” she offered.

“I think I’ll need it,” you responded.

Anthea carefully pulled back the blankets, exposing your bandaged torso to the cool air. She slid one hand gingerly under your left thigh, the other resting between your shoulder blades. “Breathe in deeply,” she instructed. As you did, she pressed lightly, pushing you upwards, sending pain shooting down your sides. “Now breathe out.” As you did, she rolled you onto your right side, legs turning first followed by your torso. You let out a wail, but Anthea didn’t seem to mind as she steadied you.

“Alright,” she cooed. You still breathed through the intense pain as she quickly ran around the bed, pulling your right arm out from under you and pressing a pillow to your chest. “I know it hurts, but it’s over now.”

You let out a few ragged breaths as she pushed your hair from your face, quickly pulling a ribbon from her pocket and tying it back with steady, calm hands.

She looked down the length of your body, examining what she could without moving you before saying, “I have to take the bandages down.” You nodded.

Without asking, Anthea pulled the sheet up from your side to cover the front half of your chest. She placed your left arm over it so it wouldn’t move, prioritizing modesty, which you appreciated. She set to work unwrapping the bandages from your midsection. While painful, she did it carefully, with tact and precision. If you winced, she stopped immediately and let you catch your breath. When she finally undid all the bandages, she readjusted the blanket, pulling a fur up your legs to cover your now exposed hips. Like a surgeon, she separated your wounds from the rest of your body.

“It looks better than it did,” she finally said.

You glanced down to see your entire ribcage and side an angry purple and red. Splotches of reddened skin pooled near the edges of the deep purple, and you could almost make out the lines of your ribs where the purple verged on black. “How bad was it before?” you asked.

Anthea looked at your face. “You could see the bones poking up at your skin.”

The image made you shudder as you turned your gaze forward.

“I’m going to press lightly on some of them to make sure they’re healing correctly,” Anthea warned. You nodded. She pressed her cold fingers onto your skin, and you jumped away at first, but she ran her fingers down the length of each bone. While the pressure caused discomfort, it wasn’t painful. “It seems like everything is fused again,” she noted, “and to the correct bone. It’s just bruised and swollen.”

Anthea began rewrapping your torso, taking care not to shake you. Neither of you spoke until she finished and helped you turn back onto your back. You gave her a soft smile. “Thank you,” you offered.

Her mouth turned up slightly, not quite a smile. “You’re welcome.” She went to the other side of the bed, grabbed the bowl, and made her way to leave.

“Anthea, wait.”

The female stopped and turned. “Yes?” she asked.

You paused, considering your request. “Can you stay? Just for a little.”

Anthea looked at the window, where the clashing of swords still took place, hesitating before looking back at your pleading eyes and nodding. She placed the bowl back on the table and sat on the stool. “Thank you,” you said.

Anthea just nodded.

“I just… I haven’t been around a female in a while, and it’s nice.”

Anthea looked at your face and then down at her hands, picking at the scabs. “I understand,” she finally said.

A silence hung between the two of you.

You swallowed, then asked, “Where are we?”

“Frostvale,” she responded.

“The river?”

“The camp.”

You hadn’t heard of any camps named after the river before, though you hadn’t been down here in a long time. “What sort of camp?”

“A training camp.”

“Training for who?” you asked.

Anthea looked up, seemingly confused. “Soldiers.”

You frowned. “Illyrian soldiers?”

Anthea nodded. “Yes, the soldiers of the Night Court.”

The name was familiar. You remembered hearing about the infamous Illyrian soldiers when you were a child in Velaris. But after your mother moved you to the woods to escape your father, your education had been limited to practical knowledge rather than history.

Anthea watched you, realizing you were trying to piece things together. “The Illyrians set up this camp about half a century ago to be closer to the coast.”

“Are there many camps?” you asked.

“Yes, though there are more since the Battle of Hybern.”

You decided not to ask about the battle, fearing it might worsen your headache. “Are all of you soldiers?”

Anthea shook her head. “No. Females aren’t soldiers here.”

“So what do you do?”

Anthea pulled her lip between her teeth, causing it to bleed slightly. “Laundry, cooking, cleaning,” she paused, “caring for the soldiers.”

“Are you a nurse?” you asked.

She shook her head. “No, I’m not a healer. We don’t have healers here.”

You considered her response, unsure what to ask next. “Do you all have wings?”

“Illyrians are born with them, yes.”

You wanted to ask about her tattered wings but decided it was too personal. “Who is Azriel?”

Anthea looked behind her, as if expecting him to appear. You couldn’t tell if it was fear or general distrust. “He is an Illyrian.”

“Is he a soldier?” you asked.

“Sort of.”

“What does that mean?”

Anthea hesitated. “He is trained as a soldier, but he isn’t here often. He just comes sometimes.”

“Does he work for another camp?”

“I don’t know.”

You gulped down some fear. “Is he safe?”

Anthea didn’t look up. “I don’t know.”

A weight settled on you as Anthea quickly stood, grabbing the bowl. “I have chores.” She turned to leave but paused at the door. “Thank you for the berries,” she said, then quickly shut the door behind her.

When she was finally gone, and you could no longer hear her footsteps, you relaxed slightly. With your ribs no longer broken, only swollen and bruised, you figured you’d be well enough to move in a few days. Given what you had seen of Anthea, who looked as though no one had ever cared for her, you had no intention of sticking around to find out whether Azriel was as safe as he seemed.

A few hours passed, and you found yourself dozing off and on, accompanied by the clanging of metal outside and the light crackling of the fire at the end of the bed. You ran your fingers along the handle of the knife you kept next to you, contemplating your next move.

When mid-afternoon came, you roused yourself from sleep to a gentle tapping at the door, followed by it opening. In the doorway stood Azriel, holding a tray, a light smile playing on his face. His wings were pulled tightly behind him. Instead of his usual attire, Azriel now wore what looked to be armored leather with intricate detailing of swirls, almost vine-like. His chest plate bore the same detailing, splattered with mud, suggesting he had been out with the others earlier. He wore black leather pants, also mud-covered, and appeared to have lost or taken off his weapon belt. Blue stones were embedded in his armor, perhaps signifying rank.

“Afternoon,” he said. “Thought I’d bring you some lunch, see how you’re faring.” He crossed the room and placed the tray on the side table.

You eyed the tray, the smell of roasted meat and vegetables making your mouth water. Azriel pulled the stool up to the side of the bed. “Anthea told me you’re healing up.”

You nodded slightly, your hand closing around the base of the knife hidden beneath the blankets.

“Good,” Azriel noted. A silence fell between you, as if he expected a verbal response. When you didn’t reply, he turned to the tray. “Here,” he said, picking it up and handing it to you, placing it on your legs. You had managed to hoist yourself up to lean against the headboard, clearly beginning to find your footing after your bones had healed.

On the tray was a piece of cooked meat with a dark berry sauce, alongside earthy vegetables and a grain mixture with herbs. Azriel rubbed his hands together before pointing at the various items. “This is grilled venison with a berry sauce. Anthea said you enjoyed the raspberries, so I added some of that. These are turnips, carrots, and sweet potato, all on top of a barley pilaf.” He pulled his hands back to his lap, rubbing his thighs slightly. “Please, eat.”

You hesitantly picked up the fork and took a bite. While the flavors were subtle and crude, the warmth of the meat and spices made the meal passable. “I’m sorry,” Azriel said, “I did the best I could with what the cooks had prepared for today.”

“You made this?” you asked, chewing.

“Well, I made the sauce and seasoned the meat a bit more. I can’t take full credit for the cooking.”

You smiled a bit, taking another bite. “Thank you.”

Azriel smiled back, pleased to see you eating. “No, it’s nothing.”

He didn’t leave, instead remaining perched on the stool. You didn’t say anything, continuing to eat.

“So, I think you should be healing up soon,” he finally said.

You nodded in agreement, taking a few sips of water.

“Has anything come back? Memories, I mean.”

You shook your head no. You had decided that even if they had, unless it had anything directly to do with him, you would keep those to yourself. While bringing you in, nursing you, and preparing special meals was kind, you knew too much of the world and the ways of males to easily trust their kindness.

Azriel nodded slightly. “I guess we’ll just keep an eye on you.”

You glanced at him from the side of your eyes.

“Anthea likes you,” he said.

“She’s sweet,” you replied.

Azriel smiled lightly. “Yeah.”

You considered speaking, wondering if this idle conversation was worth it, knowing you’d be gone in a few days. “Anthea said she’s a laundress.”

Azriel nodded. “Yeah, she does laundry and helps out around the camp.”

“A battle camp,�� you said, wiping a bit of the sauce from the side of the plate and sucking it off your thumb.

Azriel watched intently. “A training camp.”

“Training for what?”

“Battle, I guess.”

You handed him the tray, and he placed it back on the table. “Are there battles to be fought?”

“Not at the moment.”

“Then why do you need a training camp?”

“In case there is a battle.”

You stopped asking questions, nodding slightly.

“Did you hit your head that hard?” Azriel asked.

“I haven’t been particularly involved in the affairs of the courts these past few years.”

Azriel frowned, confused. “What does that mean?”

“I’m not from around here.”

“Where are you from?”

“Not here.”

“I gathered that.” Azriel leaned back, dragging his hand through his black hair. “I mean, more specifically, where did you come from?”

You sucked your teeth slightly to pull a spare raspberry seed from between them. “The mountains.”

“The Illyrian mountains?”

“Yes.”

“You’re from the Illyrian mountains and don’t know about the training camps?” He sounded more like he was stating a fact than asking a question.

“Not all of us are so involved in your world.”

Azriel paused, leaning forward on his thighs. “I’m sorry. I just assumed if you were from the mountains, you would know about them.”

“Guess I never came across you or your kind.”

Azriel stared into your eyes, searching for answers. “I’m curious about you,” he finally said.

You said nothing in response.

“You’re a bit of an enigma.”

You still said nothing.

Azriel continued to stare, your cheeks reddening with the awkwardness. Finally, you spoke. “I guess I could say the same about you.”

“Ask me any questions you want,” he said.

You leered at him, crossing your arms and wincing slightly. “Who are you?”

“Azriel.”

“Yes, but who is Azriel?”

“I am an Illyrian.”

“Because of your wings.”

“Yes, wings are a trait of my people.”

“You’re a soldier?”

“I am trained to be a soldier, yes.”

“But you aren’t a soldier.”

“I hold no authority over the soldiers.”

“So you just like to come spend time here?”

“No, I was sent here.”

“By who?”

“Rhysand.”

You paused, recognizing the name. Azriel continued, “Rhysand, High Lord of the Night Court.”

Oh. That’s why you recognized it. You suddenly felt much more uncomfortable, realizing you were in the presence of someone with significant power.

“You are his...?”

“Spymaster.”

You deduced the implications. “And you come here often to spy?”

“I come here to report back on troop progress.”

“But you aren’t a soldier.”

“No, I am just trained as one.” He paused. “Do I get to ask you questions?” he asked.

“I can’t promise I’ll answer them all,” you replied after a moment.

“Of course.” He thought for a second. “Who are you?”

“I’m Y/N.”

“We’ve established that. You know that’s not what I mean.”

“I’m a fae female from the mountains.”

Azriel scanned your face, searching for something. “Why were you leaving?”

You stared back at him, a moment passed. “That’s not your business.”

Azriel looked into you, almost too deep into you, and suddenly you felt like you were drowning a bit. “Fair,” he responded.

You asked, “Who is Anthea?”

Azriel paused. “We’ve been over her.”

“No,” you started, “You know what I mean.”

Azriel leaned back again, looking skywards as though searching for the words. “Anthea is an Illyrian female,” he paused, “who is from a very traditional family.”

“Define traditional,” you pried.

Azriel paused again. “Illyrian women are not treated as equals to the males.”

You just stared into him.

“And Anthea is unfortunately serving the role of a very traditional female in an Illyrian society.”

You gulped down the anger and bile rising in your throat. “Unfortunately?”

Azriel peered into you again. “Yes,” he said. “Her life is not easy. Nor is it fair.”

You looked towards the fireplace.

“The night in the tavern,” Azriel started. You felt your heart beat pause. “You were screaming in your sleep.” You did not look at him. “You were saying the name Caelum.”

Your heart picked up speed, and before Azriel could continue, you pulled the knife from under the blanket, pointing it at him. “Get out.” You warned, your eyes hardened, blackening as you felt the bile rising higher in your throat.

Azriel threw his hands up. “I don’t mean to hurt you.”

“I don’t know what you intend,” you shot back. “Get. Out.”

Azriel nodded, standing. “I’m sorry, I didn’t think—”

Before he could finish, you pointed the knife towards the door. “Get out.”

Azriel’s face faltered for a moment, a look of disappointment and shame flashed across it before he turned and left the room. You didn’t drop the knife until your heart stopped feeling as though it would pound from your chest. Even then, you gripped it too close to the blade in your frenzy, and blood slowly ran down your wrist, dripping onto the fur beneath it. You would not utter that name. You would not speak it into existence.

As always, I want to take the time to thank the wonderful readers who have asked to tagged. You have made this such a fun series to write and I am so excited to continue on with it.

@thatacotargirl @mcuamerica @lilah-asteria @florabelll @fightmedraco @marvelbros-oneshots @mariahoedt @quinzzelx @romantasyreader28 @minnieoo @mysteriouslydeafeningwerewolf @annabethgranger123 @krowiathemythologynerd @scatteredstardustt

60 notes · View notes