#i am going to laugh so hard if his not kissing women streak continues after tomorrows ep

[wannabemylover]

damn i cant believe we've seen buck start and end two relationships, cheat on his gf, become a sperm donor, get struck by lightning and die, come back to life with temporary math superpowers, deliver his biological child, and discover he was bisexual all before seeing eddie kiss a woman again

[j-graysonlibrary]

The Xiang Chronicles: Book Four Chapter 35

Title: The Xiang Chronicles: Book Four

Author: Jay Grayson

Word Count: 118k

Genres: Fantasy, adventure, drama, LGBT+

Available on: my website

Synopsis: In order to save the world from the continuous subjugation and potential annihilation at the hands of Tiandi, hard lines must be drawn. The Great Spirits that were imprisoned ages ago must be unsealed and awakened, no matter the consequences.

The players are divided—those who stand blindly with Tiandi, such as Xiang Merra and her disciples versus those who want to tear the system down and give the power back to the people. Even a few of the most religious Lords change their minds when they learn the truth of the world—that Tiandi is no more than a dictator with no love in his heart.

It is up to the last, real Xiang and the ill-fated Chaaya to put everything they have into tearing God from his throne and creating new possibilities for the future.

Full chapter 35 under the cut

Chapter XXXV:

Pangu had not given himself time to think about them out of fear of it distracting him but, seeing them in the moment brought the rush of emotions back to him. His worry, his anxieties, his premature mourning, and the absolute horror at having, possibly, been the cause of their deaths.

He jumped to his feet and ran over, bringing them both into a hug. “I am so glad you are okay!”

“We were fine,” Kira said and patted him on the back, “You were the one attempting to fight the fire lizard on your own, crazy.”

“Yeah, if anyone was worried, it was us,” Baiya seconded with a laugh.

Pangu pulled away, not caring that his tears were flowing. They were probably making pretty definitive streaks on his face, through the dust and smoke. “I watched the tower collapse. I had no idea what happened to you two…”

Kira gave Baiya a quick look but then returned to Pangu. He slapped a hand on his shoulder and smirked. “Like I said, we’re fine.”

Baiya nodded and the relief finally washed over Pangu entirely. His breath hitched and he grabbed his partner by the sides of his face and yanked him into a kiss.

“Well,” Kira said, turning his attention to the women on the ground, “I do have some bad news, unfortunately.”

Pangu parted from Baiya and turned to hear it.

“What?” Loa asked as she rubbed circles along Phay’s back.

“We went to find the lord of Cidney and, well…he’s dead.” Kira leaned against some nearby rubble and crossed his arms over his chest. “He and a handful of his guards were crushed by a collapsed ceiling so…”

“Who will take care of the city?” Loa asked.

“I will,” Phay answered as if it was obvious.

Kira offered, “I can bring over your troops or, at least, some of them. That way you can have a group you trust with you.”

“Well if you are staying here then so am I,” Loa insisted. “Someone has to make sure you do not overexert yourself.

Baiya watched his sister and debated whether he should object to her suggestion or not. She was grown, after all, and she could make her own decisions. Not only that but she was capable of defending herself and she was acting out of more than just self interest. She loved Phay, yes, but she also loved Agni.

His chest ached but it was pride, not worry.

“You will be alright?” he asked anyway.

She stood up and nodded with a smile. “Can I borrow my brother for a moment?” she asked Pangu and he gladly stepped to the side so she could hug him.

Pangu moved closer to Phay and helped her to her feet. “So, what will you do about Phaos? Lord San?”

She sighed and brushed off some soot from her armor. “Probably send an envoy, just to see. I worry Ashoka will have him on her side.”

“Speaking of,” Kira said with a finger raised, “Where did she go?”

“I do not sense her anywhere,” Pangu noted, “She must have fled.”

“Or died.” Phay seemed a little too eager about that being the case.

“Either way, she is no problem for you at the moment.” Pangu gave a weak smile. He did not get the feeling the disciple was dead though she was probably injured from the fall. Whether she came back at all was of no real concern though since she would be in no position to harm Phay.

***

Only Phay went with Kira through the miasma portal so he did not have to spend too much of his energy after the Salamander ordeal. Plus, she was the only one who was really needed on the other side.

Her encampment was far larger than the last time they had been and, even more surprising, it had not been moved. Kira glanced around as the soldiers quickly took note of their presence. He stayed back as Phay was welcomed like a hero and her second-in-command filled her in on everything that had happened in the past few months.

If he was to take even a quarter of the people back through a portal, he would be spent.

Just as Kira started to debate the maximum number he could support, one of the soldiers walked up to him. Or, he assumed they were a soldier until he actually turned his head.

“You?” he remarked with surprise as Ishtar, dressed in light armor with her hair tied back, stood at his side. “I nearly didn’t recognize you in that.”

“It is a different look,” the woman said, setting a hand on her hip. “Took some getting used to.”

Kira arched an eyebrow. “What made you?”

“There is no money in the underground while everyone is focused on whether or not Agni will even exist by the end of the year.” Ishtar made it sound as if her business was solely the thing that mattered but Kira remembered her face when she spoke of Merra’s plans for the country. Perhaps she only cared about Agni so long as it benefited her but there was some pride laced in there too.

“Alright well, speaking of money, you still owe me some for batting Merra’s army back.” Kira smirked.

“I never offered a bonus,” Ishtar countered, “But perhaps I could spot you a few coin. After all, I heard you killed one of the Heavenly Princes. What a terrifying Chaaya you have become,” she spoke with a crooked smile.

Kira snickered. “The worst the land has ever seen.”

Ishtar was among the group that came with them, once Phay was done explaining the situation to her troops. Her second-in-command helped to divide the soldiers accordingly and Kira opened a portal back to Cidney with a hefty breath.

As expected, it nearly depleted him but Pangu was quick to run to his side and offer some of his energy to compensate. Normally, Kira would have pushed him away and told him to keep it but, in that instant, he really needed the help—as much as it pained him to admit.

“Ah, Baiya, I see you two are back together,” Ishtar said, making her way over to their group while Phay reconvened with Loa.

“Who…?” Baiya had to do a double take. “Ishtar?!”

“I was surprised too,” Kira admitted as he removed Pangu’s hands from his. He would take no more than what was absolutely necessary. There was plenty of miasma in Cidney to siphon anyway, he thought and then returned to the topic at hand: Ishtar. “She is a noble Agni soldier now.”

“Do not misrepresent me,” she scoffed before her eyes landed on Pangu. “Oh, the ex-Xiang.”

“…Did we know each other before?” Pangu asked, clearly worried. He wasted no time covering for himself with an explanation, “I lost my memory and not every event or person has fully come back.”

When all three of them laughed, he was further puzzled.

“We did not meet,” Ishtar said, “Though I was promised a meeting with you the last time you were in Cidney…”

“Do not,” Baiya warned while Kira cackled.

“What does it matter now?” he challenged, “Pangu will not be scandalized.”

“I…” Baiya started and then stopped, resorting to a disgruntled huff.

Pangu glanced between them and then set a hand on his lover’s arm. “Does this have anything to do with why you and Kira were gone for so long when we were here?”

“Yes, they killed my men and threatened me,” Ishtar blurted out though she seemed wholly unbothered by their past troubles. In fact, she kept a smug smile on her lips the entire time. “I was looking to cash in on your body parts—nothing personal—but these two got wind of it, arranged a meeting with me, lied about kidnapping you to sell you to me, and then attacked once I arrived. As I said, they killed my men then held me at the point of a blade and told me to leave you alone or else they would kill me next time.”

Pangu’s jaw dropped and he looked up at Baiya who would not make eye contact. “Baiya!” he half scolded and half laughed, “Why did you keep this from me?”

“He did not want you to think badly of him. He was still trying to impress you,” Kira said, “I even wanted to kill Ishtar then and there but Baiya was the one who said no. Because he did not want to dirty his hands more than necessary just in case you did find out.”

“It is a good thing too,” Ishtar cut in, “Not just for the fact I enjoy living but if you had slit my throat then, the two of you would have been lost once Pangu bit the dust.”

“You know, it is strange that you have no questions about his resurrection,” Baiya said, furrowing his brow.

“I have already heard. How it happened, I do not know—nor do I care, really—but the point remains. I gave you both jobs and information so I am sure you are glad you kept me alive. I suppose we should all thank Baiya’s crush on the Xiang.”

Even Pangu laughed, slapping against Baiya’s arm all the while. The Agni disciple could only sigh and hang his head.

Phay and Loa circled back to them, ready to say their final goodbyes. Baiya hugged his sister once more and they left the city in the Agni lord’s capable hands, knowing that they would see her again soon. She was both essential for further planning against Merra and she now had the link to Salamander as well.

Ishtar waved, beside the rest of the Agni soldiers, as they passed through the miasma portal.

Once back in the caves, there was an immediate need for rest—especially for Kira. Pangu kept his arm on him as they landed on the other side of the abyss and he scanned the room for Raine, trying to force his eyes to adjust.

“We are back!” he called out when he did not hear anything for a while.

“Kira!” Raine sounded first as he ran over, “What happened? Where are the women?”

“My sister and Phay stayed behind to plan and organize,” Baiya answered, “Salamander chose Phay.”

“Knew it,” May announced with a snicker before the wind left her sails, “Aw, wait, so no more girl time.”

“You still have me,” Chandes chimed in.

“What happened?” Raine’s voice went quiet, asking only the returning group. He pulled Kira into his arms, offering his body for him to lean against.

“Kira brought over Phay’s army to Cidney…” Pangu sighed. “It took a lot out of him.”

He had drawn in a lot of miasma to compensate for his lack of energy. If he was anyone other than Kira, Pangu would have been terrified he would die of miasma poisoning by the end of the night. Yet, even though he knew he was stronger than most in that regard, he still struggled to see him in such a state.

“…s’ fine,” Kira argued with a grumble.

“Get him to bed,” Baiya told Raine and the first disciple nodded.

They retreated down the tunnels and Baiya and Pangu were left to answer all the questions. It was kept brief since it was becoming, more and more, clear that Baiya was exhausted as well.

When the two returned to their room, they finally met with Kaz and Viren.

“Oh, we did not hear you come in,” Kaz said, a look of concern and slight frustration on his face. He was sitting next to Viren who was laid back, resting with his eyes closed. It was obvious he was not asleep only by the way his brow moved in response to the talking and commotion.

“Still feeling drained?” Baiya asked and joined them on the bed. He, too, was ready to sleep so he settled next to Viren.

“Mmm…yes.”

Pangu looked at the three of them, especially Viren, and his heart felt as heavy as a boulder. He knew he needed to work on planning their next move but all he really wanted to do was spend time with them.

But there would never be enough time for all he wanted.

Even the next day, as soon as he was out of his room, he was spirited away by Gong and Parvati who said they needed to discuss something with him.

His mind was still on Viren and how sluggish he was but he tried to focus on his old mentor, especially with the overly serious look on his face.

“You did an amazing job on freeing all of the Great Spirits,” he opened with, “but some of us believe it may not be enough still.”

“Me and my sisters,” Parvati elaborated.

And, as though she were summoned, Devi joined them. Pangu expected more but it was just the eldest that showed up.

“Mother has regained some strength and willpower from her children being set free,” Devi said and clasped her hands together, “But if she is to return to how she was before all of this pain and suffering…then…”

Pangu looked between them and noted the somber expression shared between the Mistresses and even Gong. He frowned. “Then what?”

“We are all a part of Shakti, Pangu,” Parvati said and grasped his shoulders. “When she was first wounded by the loss of her children, she felt so alone and despaired that she bled out miasma for a century.”

“And, eventually, some of that miasma responded to her loneliness,” Devi continued and pointed at her own chest, “I came into existence.”

“And, mother lost some of her sense of self and her memories in the process,” Parvati sighed, releasing Pangu before saying, “It was the same with each of us. We were all made when her anguish built up too much and had to be released. She, quite literally, cut out her pain and we are the result. But, along with being the emotions she no longer could handle, we are also her. She cannot return to her old self while we still exist.”

Pangu heard his blood pumping in his ears and he continued to look back and forth between them. “So you…intend to die?”

“We will not kill ourselves in a hurry,” Devi stated with a chuckle, “but, without us, Shakti may still be vulnerable compared to Tiandi. Our sacrifice may be necessary.”

Gong spoke up, “It is not dissimilar with Tiandi.”

“I did hear from Badou that a part of Tiandi was placed into each of you…so…” Pangu paused. “Does that mean, since Zhu is dead, Tiandi is, actually, stronger?”

“Probably.” He nodded. “However, if we want a chance to actually kill Tiandi then he will need to be whole as well.”

Pangu looked down at the floor, almost wanting to laugh just so he did not have to cry. “So you all need to die in the end?”

“We are prepared to return to mother,” Devi mentioned and glanced to Parvati who, in turn, looked to Gong.

“Yes,” she agreed, “And I am sure the idea of being separated from that Tian aspect is rather compelling, even in the face of a second death.”

“It is.” Gong smiled but he could not keep it up. “Pangu, I know you wanted to save us as well but…some sacrifices are necessary to ensure the greatest amount of lives is protected.”

His wording made him think of Kira and Viren. And himself. He also realized that, had he just meditated on it a while longer, Gong could not survive the final fight with his Tian aspect still in place. But the Mistresses, he had hoped, could have been saved…

Pangu exhaled the same time Kira did from the far side of the cave system, tucked away in another room. He had been asked to visit with Shakti and, along with her, there was Kali, Chandes, and Ziyi. Their reason for calling their Chaayas was quite the same as why Pangu had been summoned by Gong for their meeting.

Ziyi looked between the Mistresses and held Browly in his arms despite the dog’s struggles to free himself. “Wait, so you will all be gone?”

“We will return to Shakti and be one,” Kali restated.

“Had this been your plan all along?” Kira asked with a raised eyebrow. If so, he would have liked to have known, even if it would not have changed his approach to things much.

“It was always something they spoke of,” Shakti answered and shifted her gaze between Kali and Chandes.

“Ever since I was born, the rest realized how bad of a mistake it was,” Chandes said and chuckled. “But, seriously, we knew we were taking power and memories from mother we just…couldn’t do anything about it.”

“With the four Great Spirits now free, it seems like there is a real chance at victory over Tiandi,” Kali continued, looking at Kira. “I…I had not ever dreamed a day like this would come. Had you asked me a year ago what I assumed the future for us and Shakti looked like I would have told you that there would be more Mistresses and that we might, eventually, overtake Tiandi by pure force but…”

“Aww, are you getting sentimental, Kali?” Chandes snickered.

The Mistress hissed and swatted at her. “You really are annoying,” she said before returning to face Kira. With a hefty sigh, she mumbled, “I suppose I should thank you or whatever for sticking by Shakti even if you did things in the most convoluted way possible. You still freed the Great Spirits…”

“No need to thank me,” Kira responded with a crooked smile.

Kali’s brows pinched together and her jaw set.  “Just accept the thanks.”

Ziyi, completely ignoring them, continued to stare at Chandes. The Mistress, despite having just said she would no longer be around by the end, seemed as carefree and happy as always. It made him doubt what he had been told.

So he asked for a little clarification. “So, are you going to die or just, sort of, disappear…?”

“Oh, can’t wait to get rid of me?” She challenged with her hands on her hips.

“Obviously,” he replied and set his dog down. Of course, he ran directly up to Chandes and begged for her attention.

She picked him up and held him, rocking him back and forth while his nub of a tail wagged. When he licked her, she laughed. “Well Browly will miss me at least. Won’t you, buddy?”

Ziyi rubbed his knuckle along the corner of his eye, catching a tear before it could fall. “You will be back with Shakti so you will not be entirely gone. I bet you will find a way to reach out and give me nightmares or something. No way you would ever completely leave me in peace.”

[hrwinter]

Lena placing a pair of glasses on a pillow and making out with it pretending it’s Kara

Lena’s not always this drunk. Well. Lena hasn’t historically imbibed this much after the age of 26, but her mother’s been arrested and her best friend is a liar, so what else is there to do other than look for an answer at the bottom of a very large bottle of scotch.

She’s been to three upscale bars and restaurants with Andrea, both of them reverting to their messy boarding school days almost instantaneously after the third glass, giggling in the corner and overtly hitting on men and women by sending them pretentious $24 cocktails.

But there’s still a dark streak in all the buffoonery. Lena can’t stop searching for blue eyes on the face of every blonde or broad shoulders under the lapels of every Armani jacket. She hates herself for it. And she hates Kara Danvers. Or Kara Zor-El, whatever the fuck.

Lena is pissed.

She takes another moody sip of scotch while some stock broker continues to shoot his shot (why do they all talk the same? why do they all feel the need to explain how money works to her, a billionaire?) and Andrea’s laughing and laughing at a woman far too loudly, her finger tips sloshing the edge of a martini she absolutely doesn’t need. While the man goes on about blue chip stocks, earnings per share, dividends (kill her), Lena’s eyeing the restroom.

No one would miss her if she ducked out. She could have a car here in minutes. Hell, Andrea would probably appreciate the attention of both parties at the same time. It wouldn’t be the first time she’d finagled a twosome into a threesome.

But that means going home. It means gazing at the dark sky from the cold enclave of her penthouse balcony. It means seeing the downturned photo frame, glass smashed, but still not thrown away.

God damn Kara. She stays.

She doesn’t go home with the man, and Andrea doesn’t go home with the woman. They don’t all go home together. But she and Andrea do go to another bar, and after that, an after hours bar. Then, by some misfortune of a higher power, they end up at a bratwurst stand at 4 AM with a horde of college kids. College children.

“Someone threw up just there,” Lena points at the pavement.

“Oh, don’t be such a snob!” Andrea shrieks into the night, grasping at Lena’s elbow and toying with a necklace Lena knows to cost more than a tricked out Vespa. Lena may be glassy-eyed, there may even be two of Andrea, but she can still spot irony.

“I’m starving. And I haven’t had one of these in yeaaarrrsss,” Andrea elongates as they move up a few paces in line. “Remember when we’d sneak into town and grift old men for drinks? That hot dog stand just outside of Hawthorne’s? I’ve been desperate for one.”

Lena wants to complain more, but it does smell good. And by the time they have bratwursts fisted in hand and are leaning against a nearby brick wall with the rest of the infants, Lena’s not feeling all that bad. It might be the best thing she’s ever tasted in her life. God, this might be the best she’s ever felt in her life. Numb, blitzed out of her mind, somewhere closer to nineteen sheets to the wind than three, she’s no longer a Luthor, no longer a simpering fool to a Super’s lies, not a CEO or a disappointment or even a person. She’s just a presence existing on this curb, eating a bratwurst.

“I’m having an out of body experience,” she tells Andrea with half her mouth full and still swallowing.

“That good, huh?” Andrea has mustard on her chin.

“I want another.”

Lena glances up, and her visions tunnels. Her existence is whittled down even further, to its basest instinct. She’s become the singular pursuit of a thousand more calories, of another bratwurst. Lena surges into the street, the stand a beacon of light in the darkness.

But several things happen at once. There’s a screech of tires, the smash of metal, what feels like getting hit with a brick wall and then being shot out of a circus canon.

Lena finds herself throwing up on the pavement on the other side of the road, and Kara fucking Danvers yelling at a motorist. The guy has gotten out of his car, hood dented and engine smoking.

“You smashed my car!”

“You almost hit a woman! You could’ve killed her!”

“She just bolted into the street, that’s not my fault!”

“PEDESTRIANS HAVE THE RIGHT OF WAY!” Kara shouts back.

“Hey!” Lena slurs, having regained her dignity by wiping her mouth clean of vomit. It’s called class.

Both the guy and Kara turn to look at her, but her eyes are trained on Kara.

“I don’t need your help,” she tells her with a point of her finger.

This feels very witty. The pinnacle of sass. So what if she’s lost a heel at some point and may have missed a bit of vomit in her hair. She’s the one in control.

The guy’s eyes narrow.

“Are you blind or something? Didn’t your mom teach you to look both ways before you walk into the street?”

At the mention of Lena’s mother, her eyes narrow, she sways dangerously.

“You’re fired.”

“What?” the guy rolls his eyes. “I don’t have time for this.” He whips out his cell phone. “You’ve got insurance right?”

“Um, yeah,” Kara hands him a card, but she’s quick to come to Lena’s side, to place a steadying hand on her shoulder. Lena tries to wiggle away from it like a petulant child.

“Stop it!”

Kara ignores her.

“Lena, I didn’t want to say it around him,” Kara cups a blocking hand over her mouth and points at the guy so he can’t see.

It’s so adorable and infuriating.

She stage whispers, “But you were jaywalking! And you could’ve been hit by a car. What’re you even doing out here?”

Lena rolls her eyes so hard, she might’ve just incurred permanent damage.

“I’m an adult, Supergirl, and I don’t need an escort--”

Lena’s very mature tirade is interrupted by Andrea crossing the street, mouth still wide open and staring. The look she’s giving Kara is distinctly not platonic, and the look she’s giving Lena is one of deepest intrigue. Her eyes scan the pair of them, their body language, the way Kara’s hand is still on Lena’s shoulder (hadn’t she shaken that off?), and smirks.

“Sorry, am I interrupting something?”

Lena could kill her.

“Be quiet, Drea!”

Andrea dissolves into snorts, and Kara glances between the two of them, a look of recognition passing over her face. Now Lena wants to hurl herself into traffic for real.

Kara opens her mouth to speak, but Lena waves a hand in front of her nose.

“Just--everyone shut up and take me home.”

And the route Lena wants to be taken home is clear when she swats at Kara’s (firm) bicep (to push her away, of course), and that swat accidentally turns into a posessive squeeze.

“Oh, can I come, too?” Andrea purrs, and Kara’s eyebrows furrow in confusion.

“No!” Lena barks at her.

“Fine, fine! Call me tomorrow!” Andrea waves, and like some sort of rich superpower, she’s already getting into the back of a sleek black car.

“Okay, Lena,” Kara hushes against her head. It’s too soft and caring, and Lena wants to push her away. But she doesn’t. (Mainly because standing is feeling like quite a complex task, and she doesn’t have the balance for it.)

“This’ll only take a second.” 

Then, Lena’s wrapped in a warm and solid embrace. It’s nice... before everything blurs, and she has the distinct desire to vomit again.

She never wants another bratwurst.

In the very next moment, she’s being gingerly placed on her balcony, and Lena’s surging out of Kara’s grasp and pressing her face against the cold glass of her balcony sliding door. It feels amazing, calming her stomach down by degrees.

“What’re you doing?”

“Oh,” Lena says. Maybe she’d been doing that for a bit too long.

She runs her hands over the glass in an attempt to open the door, heavily petting various keypads and biometric scanners. Nothing happens. She scratches at the glass like a raccoon desperate to be inside.

“Um, isn’t it over there?” Kara indicates a different keypad to the left.

“I don’t need your help!” Lena shouts before following her instructions exactly. The door opens. She grumbles inside.

Unaware and uncaring, Lena starts undressing in her living room the very moment she’s crossed the threshhold, discarding her shirt, her skirt this way and that. There’s a gasp behind her and another suspicious super speeding sound, but she ignores Kara. She paces into her bedroom to strip off her bra and grab an oversized shirt. After, she spread eagles on her bed.

“I, um, brought you a glass of water.”

Lena cracks an eye open, takes in the sight of Kara standing at her bedside, nervous and uncertain, glass of water extended between them like some sort of peace offering.

She groans loudly and sits up to snatch it from her, water sloshing onto her bare legs. She doesn’t register it, draining it dry, glaring at Kara over the edge of the glass the entire time.

The Super pulls at her fingers.

“What’re you doing here?” Lena rasps, rolling the empty glass onto her exquisite and overpriced comforter.

“You were in trouble, Lena.”

“You don’t care about me.”

“Yes, I do.”

Lena scoffs, completely undignified, a sound appropriate for an elementary school playground. She does it again because it feels good. Kara’s eyebrows pinch.

Lena swivels at the waist and plucks her reading glasses off her bedside table. She places them over one of her giant, California King-sized pillows.

“Oh, Kara, there you are!” she says, squeezing it’s sides together like she’s cupping its cheeks. “I can’t believe I didn’t recognize you in a pair of glasses!”

Kara’s brows furrow deeper, not amused.

“How did I not see that the kindness, the sincerity, the insistence that I was not just another Luthor was a total act!” she continues to talk to it.

“It wasn’t an act--”

Lena brings the pillow close in her arms.

“Stopping by to bring me lunch, complimentary puff pieces, spin class, game nights. You’re so sweeeeeet,” she elongates, squeezing the pillow tight. “And beautiful. You know what you deserve? A kiss.”

Surely, this bit has spiraled out of Lena’s control. This entire night has. And were she sober enough to realize it, she’d catch herself before this next part. But she’s not and she’s wasted. And this pillow is the Kara she used to know, the Kara Lena used to pine for unconditionally, fantasizing what it might be like to just, lean over and...

She loses her balance as she places a wet one just under the glasses of her pillowcase and falls over on top of it. Incidentally, it’s the perfect size for snuggling, just like Kara herself, and her eyes flutter closed, warm and content.

“I’ll--I’ll go,” she hears a voice say.

“Kara?” Lena mumbles, face down in her pillow and not long for this world.

“Yeah?”

“I lo--I mean, I hate you.”

Kara sighs.

“I love you too, Lena.”

[queenshelby]

The Last Semester – Part Five

Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Reader

Words: 1,888

Warning: Smut, Age Gap

The Age Gap Issue

It has been ten days since you started dating Cillian and things were great, at least mostly.

Over the past ten days, you spent every single night at Cillian’s apartment, enjoying his company. Neither of you even thought about tuning it down, maintaining distance from each other or taking things slow. It was simply too perfect and there was so much you had to talk about. Then there was the sex. The most incredible sex. You couldn’t get enough of each other.

At university, Cillian managed to keep things professional during the group sessions and largely avoided one on one contact with you during classes. Of course, you had questions for him but, unlike the other students, you simply asked them when you were alone with him, often over a glass of wine or over dinner. The arrangement worked well and, thus far, you haven’t arisen any suspicions.

The deadline was near and secrets didn’t have to be secrets anymore for very long. Cillian’s involvement in your unit was going to come to an end in two weeks and the final assessments for the semester were taking place in as little as four weeks. After that, you could be together without having to hide it.

But there was still one thing that you haven’t quite managed to juggle just yet and this was the difference in age between you and Cillian.

While it didn’t bother you at all, you occasionally noticed that Cillian struggled with it, questioning the feelings he was developing for you.

There was one conversation in particular triggering Cillian’s doubts and that was when you brought up your younger step brothers who were 14 and 12, the same age as Cillian’s sons.

Cillian was rather reserved when it came to conversations about his sons Hendrix and Charlie but, the more he got to know you, the more he told you about them.

You loved that he did share these details with you but, at the same time, it made him realise how you were at totally different stages of your lives and that this might pose problems for the future.

As such, whilst Cillian and his ex-wife Laura had a good relationship with each other after having divorced five years ago, bringing a much younger woman into a step family dynamic at some point was possibly a bad idea.

The other issue that he thought might possibly arise is that you would likely want children yourself at some point. But he didn’t. He didn’t want to start all over again.

In addition to these warranted concerns, there were little things as well that made Cillian feel self-conscious about the difference in age and you couldn’t help but tease him about them.

The Grey Hair

For example, the night before Cillian was due to fly to Dublin to see his sons, he became rather self-conscious about his hair turning grey. It had been turning grey for quite some years but, when you met several weeks ago, he had just finished filming his TV show Peaky Blinders. This meant that his hair was short and coloured dark.

Over the period of six weeks, it grew out slowly, featuring some grey streaks which, this time around, he noticed much more than he ever did.

In addition, Cillian was featuring a few grey hairs on his chest as well and it was that evening, when you arrived at his apartment that you caught him coming out of the shower, his intimate parts covered by a white towel and his chest hair…Gone!

‘Whoa’ you said as you walked inside, noticing immediately that he had shaved his chest.

‘What?’ Cillian went on to ask before giving you a kiss.

‘Why did you do this?’ you pouted, running your hands over his bare chest. ‘I loved running my hands through it’ you said somewhat disappointed as you really enjoyed playing with the small amount of hair on his chest when you cuddled up against him.

‘Well…some have turned grey’ Cillian said somewhat reluctantly and you couldn’t help but laugh.

‘As is expected at your age’ you giggled teasingly before realising what this was all about.

‘Yeah, that really makes me feel better’ Cillian laughed and you pressed your lips onto his for a passionate kiss.

‘I have no idea why you are so self-conscious about a few grey hairs Cilly’ you went on to say, slightly amused.

‘Because you are twenty years younger than me’ Cillian responded and you sighed.

‘Here we go again’ you chuckled before pushing him backwards to sit on the lounge while you stood in front of him.

‘Listen, there are a lot of women younger than me who are very attracted to you’ you said and Cillian recalled the Instagram posts you had showed him a few days ago, which made him shake his head.

‘Also, I really like your grey hair. It’s fucking sexy. You are fucking sexy’ you then went on to say.

‘I am just saying that you could be with someone your own age Y/N’ Cillian responded.

‘And why would I want that?’ you asked. ‘We connect perfectly and you are literally the first person I have ever met with whom I am never running out of conversation. You are intelligent, funny, kind and very handsome. In addition, the sex is fucking amazing. I don’t want anyone else and I want you to let this damn hair grow back’ you demanded all while you seductively unwrapped your dress and revealed your black lace lingerie.

‘Jesus Y/N’ Cillian barely managed to say as you stood there in front of him.

‘I bought it today. For you’ you winked before walking over towards him, kissing him passionately and then unwrapping the towel around him like you were opening a present.

As he sat there in front of you, completely naked, you pulled a pillow from the lounge and put it onto the floor before kneeling down on it, right there in between his legs.

Your mouth opened and you leaned forward just enough to catch the head of his cock between your lips.

‘Fuck, yes’ Cillian swore and you sighed, your eyes fluttered at the feeling of him, fighting to open your mouth wider to take more of him in. He was hot, and you tasted the sweet savory drop of precum that leaked onto your tongue.

Watching Cillian like this was enchanting. You sucked harder, feeling him pulse against your lips and tongue. His eyes widened and he moaned. Oh, you would do almost anything to hear him make that sound. It was an incredible turn on for you. Your tongue swirled around him, flicking the crown and massaging under the head.

‘Oh god Y/N’ Cillian murmured, and he reached for you. You felt his fingers clench in your hair so little prickles of pain burned your scalp. You met his eyes as he pulled your face into his crotch, and his cock hit the back of your throat. Your eyes watered but you kept your eyes on his expression, and watched him fall apart above you.

‘Shit’ Cillian eventually jerked away, wrenching himself out of your mouth. A long trail of spit connected you, and eventually broke, slapping against your chest. You caught your breath.

‘I want you so fucking much’ he growled, his voice strained. He caught you under your arms and helped you to your feet before picking you up and carrying you to his bed.

‘Cillian, please I need you inside of me’ you whimpered and Cillian shoved you against the bed, your back facing him, and you shivered as you felt his hands squeezing at your ass and hips. He stood directly behind you, and you could feel the hair on his legs tickling the backs of your thighs.

‘You almost made me lose it there’ Cillian said as he unclasped your bra, letting it fall to the ground before quickly pulling down your lace panties.

‘I could tell you enjoyed it’ you grinned as Cillian moved one of your legs with his hands, bending your knees one at a time so you were crouched on the bed. He paused behind you, and you closed your eyes, listening to his ragged breathing, trying to stay calm.

Cillian’s finger traced your slit gently, and you gasped and let out a shaky moan as he dipped into your wetness.

‘So wet for me already’ Cillian smirked and you simply nodded. You couldn't talk. You could barely breathe.

Within seconds, you felt the head of his cock press against you, and then he grabbed your hips, and shoved it inside.

You cried out as he invaded your body. A hot flash of something went through you, and your arms buckled under you as you fell face first into the mattress.

You could hear Cillian behind you, grunting and swearing, holding your hips tightly, his nails biting into your skin. He pulled you back against him roughly, and another hot flash of pleasure shot through your body. You felt like you were going to explode any minute.

‘Y/N’ he growled, and shifted behind you, and then you felt his arm snake around your waist and up to your face. He pulled you up and held your chin firmly with his hand. You could feel his chest pressed against your back, like he was holding you tight against him in a hug as he continued to thrust into you.

‘Oh god Cillian yes’ you moaned as he was dropping his head and caught your neck with his teeth. He bit you gently, and then sucked hard at the bite, thrusting deeper and deeper into you in a way that you still couldn't understand.

‘Open your eyes’ he growled into your ear and your eyes flew open. Across from you was the mirror of the nightstand. Your eyes widened and you gasped as you took in the sight of Cillian buried inside your body, holding you close.

‘Cillian’ you moaned again as your whole body caught fire, and burned, and burned. You saw fireworks behind your eyes and your brain went all staticy.

It could have lasted an hour, or been just a moment in time, but the next thing you knew was that your legs began to shake violently and your walls began to clench around Cillian’s hard cock.

‘Oh god yes fuck’ you moaned as your orgasm washed over you and your juices squirted onto the wooden floor.

At the same time, Cillian reached his high as well, thrusting into you with several loud groans as he filled you with rope after rope of his warm cum.

‘Jesus that was amazing’ Cillian huffed just before he pulled out of you gently and you both collapsed on the bed together.

‘So, tell me again Cilly, why would I want to be with a younger guy?’ you giggled.

  Tag List (Cillian):

@lilymurphy03 @deefigs @theflamecrystal @desperate-and-broken @weepingstudentfishhorse @livinginfantaxy @rosey1981 @atomicsoulcollecto @peakyboyslover @nerdy4itall @elenavampire21 @hanster1998 @mariapaiva13 @fairypitou @harry-is-my-sunflower @zozeebo @lauren-raines-x @kasaikawa @littlewierdalien @sad-huffle-nerd @theflamecrystal @peakymalfoyscullymulder @themissthang @0ghostwriter0 @stylescanbeatmyback @1-800-peakyblinders @datewithgianni @momoneymolife @ntmynouis @lilymurphy03 @mcntsee@cloudofdisney @missymurphy1985 @peakymalfoyscullymulder @otterly-fey @janelongxox @uchihacumdump @basiclassy @being-worthy @chaotic-bean-of-smolness @margoo0 @chocolatehalo​ @vhscillian​ @ysmmsy​ @littlewierdalien @crazymar15  ​

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[bluewhale52]

RED (M)

Things you need to know about this fic:

1. Hobi is tied up during sex 2. This piece is inspired by a prompt I saw on @creativepromptsforwriting: “Can we go on one date without you causing someone trauma?” “Babe, I’m a demon. What do you expect me to do?” (Submitted by: welcome-tothe-mystery-shack)

Pairing: Jung Hoseok x female reader

WC: 6.4k

Rating: Explicit. NO MINORS ALLOWED!

Genre: idol!au, fantasy!au, supernatural!au, estabished relationship,

Warning: one of the characters is a demon, mention of Hobi’s red suit (yes, THAT one), oral sex (m & f receiving), fingering, unprotected sex, kinda rough sex but not that crazy rough, slight choking, for once Hoseok is not the dom.

A/N : thank you to the lovely @illneverrecover who really boosted my confidence and enjoyed the story when I wasn’t even sure about it!

Taglist: @gee-nee​

Just over two years ago, Hoseok met you in an upscale club.He remembers the moment he saw you as if it was only yesterday. He remembers seeing you all by yourself at the bar in the VIP section, your finger circling the mouth of your martini glass lazily. He remembers the blood red dress you wore- how it was so conservative that it covered you up completely, but it hugged you in all the right places. He remembers the way you looked at him- as if you were hungry for him- and it still sends shivers down his spine to this day. 

You approached him that night- nothing unusual for him, men and women flock to him because of his idol status- and he was instantly enraptured. The piercing gaze you gave him rendered him immobile. The swaying of your hips hypnotized him completely that he forgot where he was. And somehow, SOMEHOW, he found his members all gone- to the bar, to the dance floor, to the restroom, who knew. Then you sat yourself next to him, your long fingers trailed from his shoulder down to his thigh. Your mouth whispered such filthy things in his ears and he thought he was going to come in his pants.

Hoseok agreed too easily at your invitation to go back to your place. He had never gone to anyone’s home for a hookup- it was simply too dangerous- but he did not even think twice when you invited him. There was something about how you drew out his desires, almost as if you were feeding off them to satiate your carnal hunger. Though the night was a blur to him, he remembers the lustful, searing passion he had with you. He also remembers waking Jimin up when he returned to the dorm in the early morning, begging him to help cover up all the marks you had left on his neck and collarbones; he was too embarrassed to face the stylists later that day. 

That one night hook-up turned into several nights, and ignoring Namjoon’s warning, Hoseok continued to see you whenever he was in Seoul. Before he knew it, he started developing feelings for you, and he gathered his courage to ask you out on a proper date.

He could see the shock in your face when he asked, but you eventually agreed on one condition. He had told you he was going to New Zealand for Bon Voyage, and you dared him to do a bungee jump there. If he did it, he got himself a date with you. 

And a date was won, for he faced his fears and took the plunge. You both agreed to have your first date in your apartment, a place you both were comfortable in and also for privacy obviously. Dinner was delicious, conversation flew effortlessly, and Hoseok’s feelings grew even stronger. 

He confessed to you as he was pinning you down on your sofa, kissing you hungrily and passionately. You pushed him away, looking worried and confused.

“Babe, are you all right?” He stroked your hair. “I’m sorry that came out of nowhere, I just wanted to let you know, I really want us to pursue this.” 

His heart dropped when you looked away. Then in a small whisper, you replied to him.

“Hoseok, I’m a demon.”

Hoseok stared at you for a few seconds before bursting out laughing. He looked at you once his laughter had subsided, then laughed again, albeit a little more unsurely at the sight of your serious expression.

“Wait, no, there’s no such thing.” He paused. “Right?”

“I really am a demon, Hoseok.”

He eyed you skeptically, figuring out which way your joke was going to. 

“Seeing is believing, right?” You snapped your finger and produced a red flame on your palm. 

Hoseok’s eyes widened. “How.. how did you do that? That’s such a cool magic trick!”

However, he gulped audibly when your facial expression fell. Anyone would be excited to show off a cool magic trick, but you looked… dejected? 

“Hoseok,” you said softly. “You trust me, don’t you? You know that you’re safe, as long as you’re with me.”

“O...kay….” he chuckled nervously.

You stood up and took a deep breath. The apartment turned pitch dark, and your body was bathed in red flame, providing the only source of light. Your eyes turned red, staring him down as your mouth turned into a wicked smile. Hoseok sat frozen on the sofa, fear paralyzing him, finally realizing this was indeed no mere magic trick. Then you raised your arms, and luminous green shadows appeared behind you, ugly and vicious. You leaned down toward Hoseok, and he immediately tried to back away. With a gesture of your hand, two streaks of green slithered around his body, holding him in place. 

“Trust me, Hoseok.” you whispered, then you placed your palm over his heart, and to his horor, you drew out a thin black smoke out of his chest. You then twirled it around your long finger. “This is fear,” you explained, “I pulled this out of you, just a little bit, not all, because I… well I like it when you’re a scaredy cat.”

The green shadows were growling, hungry. “They like negative emotions. Fear, jealousy, greed, they feed on them.”  You blew the black smoke towards the shadows behind you. The green shadows screeched and fought to gobble up the smoke in no time, then you sent them back to the dark abyss with a soft chant. The light came back on, and the flame around your body disappeared. 

You turned to look at Hoseok, once everything was back to normal. He was patalyzed still- eyes unblinking, ears ringing, heart beating fast and brain malfunctioning over what he had just witnessed. 

“You… you’re..” he finally snapped out of his shock, “you’re a demon.”

You nodded and kneeled before him. “I am, Hoseok. And I think I have feelings for you too.”

Hoseok gasped. Then it all went black. 

Hoseok finally came to, and he found himself in your bed, tucked underneath your blanket. He slowly sat up, rubbing his eyes and his head. He tried to recall what happened before he fainted, but he was distracted by the sounds from  outside your bedroom.

Hoseok gingerly got out of bed and walked out, still rubbing his head. Then he found you in the living room with... Yoongi?

“Hyung?”

Yoongi gave him a silent wave as a way of greeting.

“What are you doing here?” Hoseok sat down on the sofa. He noticed you were keeping your distance from him. “What’s going on?”

“Hoseok,” you called his name gently, “do you remember what happened?”

Hoseok tilted his head, trying to recall. He remembered having dinner with you, kissing you, and then…. Hoseok recoiled at the memory of red flame and green shadows. You winced at his reactions.

“Hoseok, please calm down, don’t faint on me again.” You pleaded. 

Hoseok snapped his head towards Yoongi. “Hyung?”

“She told me what happened, Seok-ah, down to the scary bits that knocked you out.”

Hoseok found your eyes again. “So, it’s true then, you’re really a demon?”

“Yeah…” you shrugged your shoulders. “Technically a succubus, but I prefer being called a demon.”

“How… what... “ Hundreds of questions ran through his mind. He looked back at Yoongi for help, and he was shocked to see how unaffected Yoongi looked. “Hyung, did you know all this while? And, why are you here? How can you be so calm?” Hoseok gasped. “Wait, are YOU a demon too?”

“Weirder things have happened.” Yoongi answered nonchalantly.

“Did she show you all the flames and shadows? And they didn’t bother you?”

Yoongi shook his head. “She said I’d be safe, so no, it didn’t bother me much. A bit scary, yes, but I was okay.”

Hoseok stared at Yoongi in amazement, confused at how he was taking the news so easily. So instead, Hoseok stood up to pace back and forth, trying to gather his thoughts. “Okay. So you’re a demon, technically a succubus…”

You nodded.

“... so, did you ever suck my soul? Or tried to? Do I still have a soul?”

You wrung your hands. “I never did, well, I mean, when I first saw you in that club, yeah I wanted your soul so badly because I could smell its purity. You were so tempting. And I did take you home planning to suck it out of you, but I couldn’t do it. Not that night and any nights after.”

Hoseok looked  at you, hearing what you said but not fully comprehending it. He looked at Yoongi for help, but his friend simply shrugged again. “I admit this is a lot to take in, but, she hasn’t hurt you so far.”

“Okay, so you don’t want my soul.” You shook your head. “And what about my members? Do you want their souls?”

“No, of course not! If I wanted theirs, I’d have slept with every single one of them. And I didn’t. Nor do I ever plan to. I just… I just want to be with you.”

Hoseok swallowed hard at your confession. Despite everything that had been revealed to him, he still wanted to be with you too. But he had so many questions yet to be answered. “So, you’ve sucked other people’s souls before?” 

“Well yeah, that’s my job. I have a monthly quota to meet.”

“A quota? What do you mean, a quota?” Hoseok asked, his curiosity peaked. 

“Do you honestly think I’m in this world, just for fun? If I want to keep this amazing apartment, and the amazing fashion labels I have in my wardrobe, I have to work for it.”

“How does it work?” Hoseok asked. “You just go around seducing humans, then suck their souls and... file your report?”

“Basically, yes. But, I don’t do all that seducing anymore, not after I met you.” Hoseok’s eyebrows rose. “I don’t want to have sex with anyone else. So I had to find other ways to keep my job performance up.”

“So what do you do now?” It was Yoongi who spoke.

“Well, I don’t like being called a succubus because, honestly I’m much more than that. Since I don’t partake in any.... activities… anymore, now I’m more like a wicked cupid, if that makes sense?”

Hoseok pinched his nose. “It doesn’t; explain to me? To us?”

You took a deep breath. “Basically, I play matchmaker to cheaters. For example, I set  up a man cheating on his wife with a woman cheating on her husband. I do that a lot these days. It’s boring, and their souls are already corrupted, so they’re not valued as much as purer souls.” you pouted. “It’s a lot more work but it’s the only way to keep myself just for you.”

“So you just make people have sex with each other?” Hoseok asked.

“Yeah, I have to watch them do it,” you made a disgusted face. “It’s easiest to suck their souls out in the moments when they lose control, you know?”  

“So… you watch them?” Hoseok was embarrassed that he was more intrigued than disturbed. 

“Yes....” You narrowed your eyes at him, “... do you... want to watch too?”

Hoseok blushed at your question. “No, no, I don’t, of course not!” He paused for a second. “But, if I wanted to... I could?”

“OKAY!” Yoongi piped up before neither Hoseok nor you spoke. “So the gist of this conversation is that you” Yoongi pointed at you, “are a demon who doesn’t do all the demonic things anymore so that you can build a relationship with him. Correct?“  

You answered Yoongi with a nod, and Hoseok felt a squeeze around his heart; he felt happy that you were willing to make changes to be with him. His brain, however, kept sounding the alarm, screaming at him to step out of this abnormality. 

Hoseok excused himself, and then dragged Yoongi to your bathroom. 

“Hyung, this is crazy, right? I’m crazy that I still want to be with her right?” 

“Honestly, Hobi. If you want to be with her, be with her. If she wanted you soulless, or dead, she’d have done it a long time ago. You were so into her before finding out her true-self. And so far, I think she’s been upfront, as honest as she could.”

“You’re right,” Hoseok paced in the small space. “I do like her, a lot. And I don’t feel… threatened? Or scared? Like it’s a shock, but I’m surprisingly okay with all this.”

“Good, then. So you guys just need to work it out. Maybe ask her what her weakness is, you know? Every demon has that one weakness, right? It’ll be like an exchange of trust. You trust her not to take your soul, and she trusts you not to annihilate her.”

“Hyung, that can’t be healthy, to hold each other at gunpoint.” Hoseok chuckled nervously, but made a mental note to bring it up to you. “Hang on, why did she call you here?”

“I’m the most sensible of the seven of us.” Yoongi answered confidently. “Would you rather Jin Hyung be here screaming his heart out?”

Hoseok waved Yoongi off. “Yeah, you’re right. Thanks for being here, Hyung.”

Yoongi opened the door. “I’m leaving now, You guys talk it out, okay?”

Hoseok stayed with you that night, asked you all the questions needed to be asked, and when the sun rose, you became his girlfriend.

“Hobi Hyung!” Jimin bellows from the door. “Noona is here!”

You follow him inside the apartment. Once you and Hoseok became official, he was only too excited to introduce you to his members. Your real identity is still a secret however, except to Yoongi. 

You linger in the kitchen, waiting for your boyfriend. “So, where are you guys going today?” Jimin asks.

“Just dinner, at that Japanese place he went to a few weeks ago. Then maybe some night shopping” 

“You know,” Jimin rubs his chin, “I don’t understand how Hyung does it. Whenever he’s out with you, no one, and I mean, no one is able to spot him.”

You shrug. “He disguises himself well behind his mask and hat.”

“Yeah right,” Jimin snickers as Hoseok comes out of his room. “You’re telling me no one recognises him in THAT? That screams J-Hope of BTS, Noona.”

You look over to where Jimin is pointing. Hoseok is wearing a bright blue jacket with a large FILA across the back. His beanie is maroon red, and his pants are moss green with colourful accessories and pins. His signature little bag is slung across his chest; today he has chosen yellow with rainbow flowers. He will probably wear his orange sneakers to complete the look.  

“Then I guess we’re just lucky, Chim.” You beam at Hoseok as he comes nearer. You are lucky indeed. 

“Ready?” He asks after giving you a kiss. You nod. “Don’t wait up for us, Jimin.”

Jimin eyes you playfully. “Not planning too, Hyung. Have fun!”

You and Hoseok walk hand-in-hand leaving his apartment and down to the parking lot. Once inside his car, he asks. “What were you talking about with Jimin, babe?”

“Oh you know,” you fasten your seatbelt. “He wonders why no one recognises you whenever we venture outside.”

Hoseok chuckles as he starts the engine. “Well, the last time anyone tried to take photos of us, their phones burst in flame and you sent them to have an orgy in a dingy bar.”

You cackle. “That was fun. And it helped me meet my target. I should do that again sometime soon.”

“Well, can we go on one date without you causing someone trauma?" Hoseok asks.

"Babe, I'm a demon. What do you expect me to do?" You retort. “If they don’t bother you, I won’t do anything to them, you know that.”

“I never thought I’d have a guardian demon.” Hoseok laughs heartily. “But I’m glad it’s you.”

You shoot him a sweet smile. “But you know, I do miss torturing a human. I miss their cries, their patheticness. How they promise me the world if only I would give them release. I miss that power.”

“Well,” your boyfriend clears his throat. “You can torture me. Like not that painful kind of torture. But you can make me cry and beg.”

You snap your head towards him. It takes all the power within you to tame the ferocious desires suddenly bubbling in you. “You’d do that? For me?”

“Of course, I want to make you happy.” He reaches out to squeeze your hand. “Just… don’t suck my soul.”

“Of course not. I would never.”

“Okay then. Should we just head to your place now?” Hoseok switches lanes, getting ready to make a u-turn.

“Yeah, fuck dinner. Let’s go home now.”

Hoseok thinks he has died and gone to heaven- or maybe, hell?- when you come out of your walk in wardrobe. You have put on the sexiest, the most tantalizing lingerie he has ever seen, and it has the same colour as his red suit, the one he wore in his concert that sent Army all over the world crazy. 

The teddy hugs your body in all the right places; the deep v-neck shows off your cleavage, the lace covering your breasts is cut so delicately, and hangs on a little string to keep everything together. Below the lace, however, is all see through. He can see your belly button, and the mark of Hell just below it. His eyes move further down, and he gulps. He could see your bare sex, already weeping.  The teddy is high cut too, baring your hips and making your legs look even longer. And when you turn, that sorry excuse of a fabric disappears between your ass cheeks only to reappear at your lower back, going up into a series of intricate web on your back. 

Then Hoseok looks at what you have in your hand. A red silk rope. He looks back up to you. You give him a wicked smile.

“What are you waiting for? Get undressed for me, Daddy.” You instruct him.

He immediately takes his clothes off, and you stop him before he removes his boxers. “Those are for me to take off.” You slyly tease, earning a grin from him.

“Get on the bed.” Hoseok obediently does as you ask. “Hands up.” You grab his wrists, and you bind them to the bed posts with your silk rope, tightly enough that he winces slightly. You then straddle him, raking your nails up and down his lean, hard torso. He writhes underneath you. You slide further down so that you rest directly above his now hard cock.

“Oh God,” Hoseok gasps as he feels your wetness through his boxers. You tut in disapproval, and lean down to nip and suck on his chest harshly.

“We don’t say that word in this house, Daddy. You should’ve known better.” You chastise him. You gently rub the purple mark you have just left on his chest. You lay our palm flat against his nipples, rubbing the stiff peaks.

“I’m sorry, babygirl,” he pants, “I won’t say it again.”

You bend down so your face hovers over Hoseok’s. You rub your nose against his, then your lips ghost over his mouth and along his jaw. You smile when you hear him whimper. 

“You trust me, don’t you?”

“I do, baby. I love you. Kiss me, please?”

You kiss him passionately,  the last act of intimacy before you start playing with him. You roll your hips, and you feel his body jerks slightly. You hold him down, as your mouth swallows his moans and your dripping core rubs against his hardness.

You sit back up, your hands back onto his chest, and your hips continue to roll. You watch him squirm underneath you. His hands are balled in tight fists, his arms flexing, showing the sinewy muscles. You trail a finger from the inside of his elbow, down the biceps, and to his shoulder and collarbone.

“You’re so fucking hot, Jung Hoseok. Remember that night we met? Once I got you here, I didn’t even want your soul anymore, I just wanted you to fuck me senseless.”

Your finger goes further down along his pec, and circles around his hard nipple. You flick it gently and Hoseok closes his eyes as he suppresses a moan. You raise your finger to his lips, prodding them open.  

“Suck.”

Hoseok envelops your digit immediately, pressing his tongue flat against it. His head starts bobbing, sucking your finger until he is drooling. You raise yourself up to your knees, and Hoseok groans at the loss of your wetness on his boxers. But then he moans around your finger as you slither up towards his chest. Your sex, covered in the most ridiculously see through material, is right in front of him. He can see clearly how you have soaked the fabric, your pussy lips swollen and ready for him to feast on. He looks up at you, eyes pleading. He is desperate for your taste.

You return his stare, and tilting your head, you pull your finger out of his mouth. Then you run it from the bottom of your neck, down to the valley between your breasts, and further south it goes. Hoseok whines at the wet trail of his saliva down your teddy, and when your finger slides over your covered pussy, he lets out a loud moan.

“Hmmm, what is it, Daddy?” You slide your finger back and forth, his saliva all but replaced by your own juices. “Do you want a taste?”

“Yes, yes please.” Hoseok can’t believe how whiny he sounds. He has never been on anyone’s mercy before. 

You pull the lingerie over your cunt aside, and you watch Hoseok’s eyes widen even more as you slip your wet finger inside you. He jerks forward, only to be held back by the restraints around his wrists. 

“Oh please… please…” he implores, “let me taste you please.”

You continue to finger yourself, ignoring his pleas. You push in another finger, and then another, throwing your head back at the stretch. He strains further against his restraints; his desperation could probably power him enough to rip the ropes off. 

The squelching sounds your fingers make are so loud in his ears.  “Please, please, baby, fuck let me taste you.” He beseeches you. “Please.”

You look down at your lover. You love how needy he is being for you. “Why Daddy? You’re not enjoying the show I’m putting on for you?”

He licks his lips and swallows hard. “I love it baby, I can smell you from here. I just want a taste, please let Daddy have a taste?”

Chuckling, you grab his hair, jerking his head back. Then you pull your fingers out and wipe them on his lips. He pokes his tongue out to desperately lick at the honey smeared around his mouth. You then shove your fingers in, and he immediately sucks on your digits, licking them clean. He closes his eyes and groans at the taste of you. You continue to rut yourself on his chest.

“Taste good, Daddy?” You stroke his hair. He nods meekly. “Do you want more?”

He mumbles his answer around your fingers. “Yes, yes please baby girl.”

You pull your fingers out, now drenched with his saliva. You raise yourself up and shuffle further up so that you’re right above his head. Your teddy is still pushed to the side, and you rub your fingers over your wet slit. 

“Shit baby, let me go, let me finger you, hmm?” 

“Shut up and enjoy the show.”  You plunge your fingers in again, and Hoseok’s moans at the sight drowns out yours. You start to fuck yourself, with your lover underneath watching you, praising you and encouraging you to cum. Just before you reach your peak however, you stop, and you remove your fingers. Wiping them on his mouth, he greedily laps at them again, savoring every drop of your taste you are offering him.

“Such a good Daddy,” you pur, “I haven’t cummed yet, do you want to make me cum with your tongue?”

Hoseok nods zealously. He shifts his body further so that he lies fully on his back, his head flat on your pillows. You can feel his hot breaths on your sex, ready to devour you. You lower yourself to his mouth, and his tongue immediately darts out at your opening, collecting all your leaking juices.  

“That’s right Daddy, drink me up.” You rock your hips above him, enjoying his wet organ exploring you. You reach down and pull back the skin above your pussy, revealing your throbbing clit. He moans and clamps his mouth over your nub. He alternates between sucking and flicking it, determined to bring you to orgasm. 

“Daddy, that feels so good,” you encourage him, grabbing a fistful of his hair again. “Make me cum with your tongue. Make me feel good, Daddy.”

Hoseok goes into overdrive. His body is tense, vibrating, he is focusing all his might to get you to your climax. And finally he is rewarded. He feels your core drip more as your thighs shake, and then you curse loudly, sending the lights in your room flickering. 

Once your heart beat returns to normal, you lie down next to him. Turning his head to face you, you kiss him slowly, savoring your taste on his lips. “Such a good Daddy,” you praise him, “making me cum so good.”

Hoseok beams at your praise. “Untie me, baby girl. I can make you feel even better.”

You tsk at him. “I want to make you suffer more.” Hoseok mewls. You pat his head and look at his bound hands. “Are your wrists hurting?”

He whines louder, mixed with laughter. “I just want to touch you. Please.”

“I like you tied up like this,” you trail your fingers up and down his chest. “I like having you helpless and completely under my control.”

Hoseok shudders all over. He has never felt this desperate before. He just wants to touch you, to pin you down and please you over and over. If only he could get out of the damn restraints. 

You can see the desperation in his eyes, and you decide to reward him. You pull down the straps of the teddy off your shoulders, and you smile sinfully as you peel the lace off your breasts, presenting them for his viewing pleasure, but definitely not for touching. Hoseok bites down on his lower lip. You lean over his torso, to reach your bedside table. In doing so, your breasts brush his chin, and he instantly mouths at whatever flesh he can reach, making you giggle.

You dig around the drawer of your bedside table, angling your chest to Hoseok’s mouth so that he can finally capture a nipple. Placing the perky tip between his teeth, he bites down on it to elicit a yelp out of you, before blowing at it and flicking it with his tongue. After grabbing an item from the drawer, you sit back up, and he cries as your nipple leaves his mouth. 

“See what I have Daddy.” You show him the item in your hand; it is a small bullet vibrator. You turn it on. The soft whirring fills Hoseok’s ears. 

“I didn't know you have toys.”

“Oh, I do.” You shuffle down to his crotch, “I just never need it when I’m with you. You always please me so well. But I think we can have a bit of fun tonight, hmm?”

You place the vibrator on his lower abdomen, just above his boxers. Then you peel the teddy off your body, slowly, giving him a striptease. Once naked, you bring the lingerie to his mouth, and he obediently sucks whatever arousal you have leaked onto the fabric. Satisfied, you then move back down and grab the waistband of his underwear, and you turn to look back at him. His eyes are closed, jaw clenching as the little tremors from the toy run through his body. You pull his boxers down slowly, and his red angry cock pops out and flops over the vibrator, making him groan aloud.

You take the vibrator and run it up and down his length, as you lean down to lick the precum off his tip. His body jerks violently, his hands pulling hard against the ropes. 

“Don’t break my bed posts.” You warn him, tapping the vibrator on his cock. “I’ll be very upset.”

“I can buy you a new one.” His breathing is erratic. “Shit, that feels so fucking good.”

“Hmm, does it? How about here?” You move the vibrator to his balls. He screams at once. You laugh mockingly at him. “Oh Daddy, did I almost make you cum?” Hoseok curses. 

You press the vibrator back on the base of his cock. “How much do you want to fuck me?”

“So so bad, please. Let me fuck you. Let me feel you on my cock. Please.”

“Will you give your soul to me, for exchange of a fuck?” You tease him.

Hoseok whimpers. “Take everything of me, I’m all yours.”

“Tsk tsk,” you tut. “Did you forget who I am, Daddy? You should never say that to a demon.”

“Not fair, not fair.” Hoseok is breathless. You move the vibrator closer to his balls again, and he sobs. “Ah, I want to cum in your cunt, please. Please.”

“You don’t want my mouth, Daddy?” You give his length a fat lick, while pressing the toy harder onto his testicles. His cock twitches and his body jerks. You see the muscles of his thighs tightening. “You’re not allowed to cum yet, Daddy!”

“I’m fucking trying not to!” Hoseok bellows. 

You laugh heartily. “All those times you edged me, this is payback.” You lick the head of his cock, and give it little sucks. He thrashes his head on the pillow.

“Please, please…” he begs again.

“Please what, Daddy?” You are stroking and licking his shaft lazily. 

“Suck me or ride me… fuck I don’t care! I just want to be in you, anywhere, please!”

You hum against his length as you move the vibrator to his inner thigh. His legs shake and he lets out a very loud, frustrated moan. You decide that you have teased him enough. Moreover, your sex is sopping wet and throbbing, completely ready for his cock.

Putting the vibrator aside, you straddle him. You both moan as your soaking center meets his hard length. You rock your hips back and fro, coating the whole of his length with your juices. You press down harder on him, sandwiching his cock between the lips of your pussy and his own abdomen. 

“Can you feel how wet I am, Daddy? You’re making me so wet.”

Hoseok is unable to reply. You see him biting his lip and closing his eyes so tightly, as if the action would help him stop from climaxing early. You reach down and grab his cock, all slippery and lubricated now. You position the head of his cock at your entrance, then you slowly sink onto him. You stop halfway however, and order him to open his eyes to look at you.

Holding his gaze, you slam your hips down until he fully impales you. He hisses loudly as your tightness envelops him. “So tight, ah fuck baby, you’re so fucking tight.”

You roll your hips as your inner walls continue to squeeze him, almost daring him to come. Then, getting your knees in position, you start riding him. You reach out for your vibrator and turn it back on. You pull back the skin over your clit, and you press the little device on your bud as you continue to bounce on Hoseok’s cock.

Hoseok curses- the feeling of your cunt contracting around his cock and the pulses from the toy is pushing him closer and closer to the edge. He is not sure if he can hold out much longer. You see his face scrunching up, a tell-tale sign that he is close. So you toss the vibrator aside and lean down towards him. Your hips falter a bit, their rhythm slowing down at the new position. 

You can hear how wet you are riding his cock. The sounds fill your ears, and combined with the smell of sex in the air, you start to get dizzy. The man underneath you is spewing filth and praises at the same time, heating your body further. Licking your lips, you close your hand around his neck, gently. His eyes widen, but he does not protest. You tighten your grip, and he sucks in a breath audibly. Your thumb grazes his adam apple, before you move up to his pulse point. Your mouth instantly waters at how fast it is pulsating; suddenly, the hunger for his pure soul is getting stronger within you.

Hoseok sees your eyes flash red for a moment, and he calls out your name. “Stay with me,” he whispers. “Baby. I trust you. Stay with me.”

His sweet voice brings you back, and you let go of his neck. Your breath is erratic now, and your hips pause. You shake your head to clear the red haze out of your mind. You look down at your boyfriend, and amidst the lust and the desperation, there is love oozing out for you. You take a deep breath, then placing your hands on his solid chest, you murmur, “Hoseok... Daddy, make me cum.”

Hoseok snaps at your request. He twists his wrists to grip the rope that binds him, and he plants his feet firmly on the bed. Then like a man possessed, he starts jackhammering up into you. You keep your body still above him, giving your body to him fully. You arch your back as his cock continues to bruise your hole, enjoying the sensation as he spears you over and over at a maddening pace. The pressure quickly builds in your core, your pussy clamping down on his member.

Hoseok’s hair is matted on his forehead. Sweat has broken all over his body, his muscles tensing as he feels you getting closer to your climax. He is nearing his peak too, and he wants to free fall with you.  “Baby… baby, please… can I cum?” 

“Yes, yes, Daddy, fill me with your cum.”

Hoseok snaps his hips faster, and he does not slow down when you finally climax. As the powerful orgasm sweeps through you, you let out a deafening shriek, and red flames engulf your body while your room is enveloped in an unearthly green glow with the shadows emerging, eager to be freed to feed on the lust that fills the air. Hoseok gasps at the sight, but he continues fucking you through your orgasm, until, at long last, he cums in your pussy, shooting his seeds deep into you as he screams your name.

You are brought back at the sound of your name. The fire immediately dies out, the green glow in your room subsides and the shadows disappear as you come down from your high. You can feel Hoseok’s cock throbbing inside you, his cum leaking out from your hole. Stilling your breathing, you reach for his bound hands to free them. His hands collapse onto the bed, his whole body now limp.

You take his hands, concerned in your face as you rub and kiss his wrists, all red from the restraints. “Are you hurt? Did I hurt you?”

Hoseok shakes his head, his eyes closed. His whole body is shiny and slick with sweat. “Fuck, that was out of this world.” He manages to say. His chest heaving up and down.

You smile wholeheartedly with relief and bend down to kiss him. “Let me run you a bath, hmm? I’ll give you a nice massage.”

Hoseok opens his eyes. “OK. It’s the least you can do, for almost eating me up alive.”

“I’m sorry. I’ve never cummed so hard before. I totally lost it.”

A tired but proud smile adorns his face. “You should tie me up more often then, you know, to practice your self-control.”

“I can’t agree more.” You kiss him again and again, apologizing between kisses and professing your love to him. The way his lips are melting against yours and how his tongue licks your mouth is stirring your desire again, but you know he will be too out of it. So reluctantly, you remove yourself and head to the bathroom to prepare the bath you have promised.

An hour later, you and Hoseok lie in bed, naked and fresh from your bath together. He spoons you, wrapping his arms tightly around your body. You fall asleep quickly, comfortable and secure in his embrace. When you stir awake at dawn however, those same arms are spreading and pinning your legs down, as his mouth is latched on your pussy.

“Hoseok...” you hoarsely call out his name. You look down to find his eyes staring back at you from between your legs. 

“Ah, Daddy, that feels good.. .” You sigh contentedly, surrendering yourself to your lover. He eats you out lazily, until he brings you to an orgasm, nothing as earth shattering as before, but delicious nonetheless. Hoseok then climbs up your body and kneels before you. You eagerly suck him until he pulls back, and then he flips you to get you on your hands and knees. He kisses your neck softly as he pushes himself into you.

“Why do you feel so fucking good?” He moans against your neck, enjoying the way your walls close around him. “What power have you got over me, baby girl?”

You gasp as he slowly pulls out before slamming back in. He threads his fingers in your hair and he pulls it to turn your head sideways so he can kiss you as he drags his cock in and out of you, rubbing that sweet spot inside. He keeps his rhythm slow but with purpose, and before long, you both climax together, then collapsing onto the bed.

The sun breaks into your bedroom as you relax in bed, basking in your post-orgasm haze. Hoseok remains on top of you, his heart beating out of his chest against your back. You wriggle to turn around so you can wrap your arms around him, protesting when he is trying to move, telling him that you love the feel of his weight on top of you. 

You stroke his hair, and you feel your chest tightens as he nuzzles your neck.

“Hoseok, thank you for staying with me.” You surprise yourself as you hear your voice breaks. “I know it has not been easy at all.”

Hoseok leans up and looks lovingly at you, his thumb wiping a tear that has escaped your eye. “I wouldn’t have it any other way, baby. Demon or not, you’re mine and I’m yours.”

Happy birthday Hobi 💜

Published 18022021

[basicbatboys]

Drain-O pt.2

Part 1

WARNINGS: mentions of abuse, mentions of murder

1705 words

A super fluffy follow-up to Drain-O! The cheesiness is so so much in this one, please don’t come at me for it. 

Music blared through the speakers I had recently set up in the small living room in my apartment. All of the windows had been thrown open the moment I woke up and the sun somehow streamed through the clouds that perpetually hung over Gotham. I smiled and danced around, occasionally adding splashes of color to the painting that hung on my freshly purchased easel. 

I felt so alive. 

About three months ago, I had witnessed the death of my abusive ex-boyfriend at the hands of Red Hood. In his defense, if he hadn’t killed my assailant then I would have been the dead one. 

After the incident, Jason didn’t leave my side for weeks. He was constantly checking up on me, getting me to leave the house, and helping me plan time for therapy. I wouldn’t be as happy as I am now if Jason hadn’t been there for me to help me through my recovery. It's true that I wasn’t fully okay, but I was getting somewhere. 

“What the fuck are you listening to?” Came a voice from my front door. I jumped as I was yanked from my thoughts, dropping my paintbrush with a clatter. 

“Jason PETER Todd!” I screeched, my hand clutching my heart. “You are despicable.” I bent over to pick up my paintbrush as he shut the door behind him. As embarrassed as I am to admit it, I couldn’t hide the smile that grew on my face. I loved having him around almost as much as I loved giving him a hard time. 

He smirked and slid the knob on my stereo to turn down my wildly loud music. “Your neighbors must hate you right now.” He teased, sitting down on the coffee table I had haphazardly shoved to the side to make room for my work. 

“Maybe.” I retorted, pointing my paintbrush at him. “But not nearly as much as I hate myself for giving you a key to my place.” 

His smile grew and he lowered the tip of my brush. “Careful where you point that thing, ma’am. You’re gonna hurt someone.” 

“Bold of you to assume that’s not exactly what I’m trying to do.” I said with a glint in my eyes. I flicked my paintbrush at him and a spray of blue paint followed, peppering his cheek and forehead. 

“Now you asked for it.” He grinned, standing. In one quick movement, it seemed, he picked me up by my waist, got ahold of my paintbrush, and pinned me to the couch. He trapped my wrists above my head with one hand, and with the other, he held his new weapon. I couldn’t help but think about how a few months ago this sort of physicality would have sent me spiraling. This was great proof of my recovery, because I felt perfectly at ease under Jason. 

“Hmm…” He thought aloud. “What is the proper punishment for your reckless behavior?”

“I think the best way for me to learn my lesson would be for you to just let me go, really.” I tried, smiling a little too sweetly. 

“Yeah, no way.” 

He slid the slimy brush across my face and I sputtered a meek, “Jason!” to no avail. I had been tainted by a streak of sky blue. 

“You are a menace!” I gasped. 

“Nah,” he laughed, clearly unable to contain his pure joy at causing me emotional pain. “I’ve been called worse by better, doll face.” 

I started wiggling and wrestled one of my arms free, shoving at his chest until he sat up and off of me. “I hardly think Vicki Vale is better than me.” 

He shrugged his shoulders as if to say, “I can’t agree.” 

My mouth dropped open. “Jason!” I yelled, “That is the lowest you have EVER gone. EVER. You can’t make up for that, even if you tried.” 

Jason laughed, a deep chested laugh. I couldn’t help but smile yet again. He looked around the room, clearly trying to find something to compliment to make up for it. His eyes landed on my painting. He stood and walked toward it, a hand on his chin like an art critic. 

“Well, I would say that I’m a fan of your painting, but Jesus, what the hell am I looking at.” 

Now I stood up. “Clearly those are flowers.” 

He tilted his head. Then more. Then more. He looked ridiculous. “Ah. I see it now. You’re a shit artist.” 

I put my hands on my hips and stared him down. I didn’t say a word because I didn’t need to. Jason’s eyes glided from my painting to me and he dropped his attitude and walked toward me, wrapping me in a strangling bear-hug. “Oh you poor thing.” He said with mock sympathy. “Did the big bad man hurt your feelings?” 

I tried to wiggle out of his grip to no avail. He clearly thought it was funny because I could feel his body shake as he laughed. ‘You won’t laugh for long.’ I thought. 

I moved so that I was standing with one of my feet on either of his and he let go of me just enough to look down at me. “What are you do-?” I didn’t let him finish because I used this as my opportunity to shove at his chest. With his feet pinned by mine, he had no choice but to fall backwards. Of course, he couldn’t just let me win, and pulled me to the ground with him. 

We fell with a loud thunk. I was sitting on his hips, my hands on either side of his head to brace my fall. I was laughing too hard to realize the position I was in, but when it dawned on me, my face turned a dark red. 

Jason, damn him, was looking up at me with those cool green eyes. He threw me a goofy half smile and my own smile spread across my face. He slowly reached up and cupped my cheek. Suddenly, the contact was all too much. We were so close. I felt centimeters away. I could feel his heartbeat. I needed to move. 

“God, that was funny!” I diverted, pulling back from his grasp and sliding off of his torso. 

“Yeah, hilarious.” He teased. I noted the possible disappointment that threaded his words. Was he going to kiss me? No, he couldn’t have wanted to. We were just friends. 

That damn When Harry Met Sally quote entered my head, “Men and women can never just be friends.” Sure, maybe for some people that was true, but Jason and I were the exception, right? I didn’t like him like that, right? Right? Oh god. I totally did. 

“Hey?” Jason called. 

My head snapped up and I looked at him, a ditzy smile on my lips. “Yes sir!” I responded, like I hadn’t just checked out for the better part of a minute. 

“Where’d you go there?” 

“I was thinking about- Well, I was just thinking that…” I trailed off. I could NOT tell him that I’d been thinking about my feelings for him. That would jeopardize everything we had worked so hard to build. Thankfully, I didn’t have to lie. 

“I know what you were thinking about, bat.” He said softly. 

My eyes narrowed. “You do?” 

He nodded. “You were thinking about Dylan again.” 

I looked down at my hands. Lying to him wasn’t right. Last time I lied to Jason, I literally almost died. But I felt like this was an okay exception. 

“I really don’t think we should talk about it right now, Jay. I’m doing so much better and I talk about it like, every week with my therapist.” None of this was a lie, I was simply omitting the fact that I hadn’t been thinking about Dylan at all. Far from it. But this was a really good opportunity to tell him how grateful I was for everything that he’d done for me throughout all of this, so I took a deep breath and just let it all out. 

“I want to thank you. And don’t cut me off either,” I said, when I noticed him shaking his head and opening his mouth to speak. “Just let me finish.” He obliged and I continued. 

“You have been so attentive to every single one of my needs. That night, you told me that love is gentle and beautiful and I didn’t believe you. I couldn’t imagine how there could be love without pain. I didn’t see myself being loved unless I was giving and giving until I felt like a ghost. You found a way to prove to me, somehow, that I’m worth it. That that sort of fairytale fantastical love can be real.” I looked up at him. “Thank you for…” I trailed off. I didn’t want to assume that he loved me, but the things that I was feeling and the things he was doing sure felt like love. 

“For loving you?” He said, as if reading my thoughts. 

I nodded, then shook my head and laughed. “I… Yeah. But that’s sort of silly.” I pulled myself off the ground and looked down at him. “Just know that I will never be able to thank you enough for what you did for me.”

Jason stood too, inches away from me. “Listen to me.” 

His voice was so soft and so near to me. Chills went down my spine and I dared myself to look up at him and meet his eyes. 

“Seeing you smile again, seeing you dance around your living room to your shit music, all of that is so much more than enough thanks. I missed it.” 

I didn’t say anything back. We stood like that, staring into each other’s eyes, for a while. The music drifted softly through my stereo and somewhere a car alarm went off. 

“What?” I teased. “Is there something on my face?” I rubbed at the blue paint he’d left on my nose with a cheeky smile. 

Jason closed the gap between us and the confidence I had melted away. He placed a hand on my waist and the other hand back on my cheek, but this time I wasn’t overwhelmed. My eyes fluttered shut as he kissed me. 

[katsuflossy]

A Doll’s Palace

Pairing: Hawks x Reader 

TW: Angst, Mentions of maternal death, death, yandere themes, mentions of societal female expectations

A/n:  If it wasn’t for Echo and Mix, would’ve been straight booty cheeks so omg thank y’all for helping me edit this to near perfection ❤❤❤

Taglist: @johariameil @iiminibattlehero @ecao @melanimed​ @mixfi​

Chastity, Purity, Demureness, Divine Feminity: They built your enamored status and innocence in the kingdom of Braavos. A pure noblewoman is seen as the most remarkable feminine icon in society, and you involuntarily became the symbol that many women hated and men looked up to. A curse, your father had called it, as the most beautiful of your family is always the earliest to go, right after birth. Since then, you’ve grown to embody your mother, a face he so loved, and swore on his life that you would never die from a soul exchange as your mother did.

But your marriage with Takami Keigo? A reality every hopeless romantic maiden could only experience through dream. . King ‘Hawks’ was preferred by his people, an esteemed man that led millions to victory in battle with wit and millions of hearts to burst using charm. You were one in a million, the heart that won the golden ticket to strike the hawk’s heart.

Too bad, the reality was shared another lucky heart.

Red silks tailored to your natural measurements; the powdered innocent blush on your face was paralleled to the floor as your brain overflowed with thoughts. Your hands twirled the parchment scroll in your palms, but your eyes remembered the exact words inked on the paper. They jumbled with the script you’ve repeated since the crack of dawn. Midoriya fluttered about the room, making the bed you just laid in and unclogging the once cold bathwater made for you to look more ‘youthful.’ A simple day in the Crystal Queen’s life.

“Izuku?” Your manservant ceased his movement, eagerly giving his attention to you.

“Yes, my Queen?” His eyes tried to reach yours; however, they remained on the paper within your hands, slightly crinkled from when your restraint broke.

“You would tell me when I am wrong” Your irises slowly slid to his frame; pupils almost swallowed into the depths of your eye color. A shiver ran down his back . “right?”

“Y-yes, my Queen.” He didn’t dare to flinch under your gaze, which stared at him longer than what was comfortable. You ended your stare by closing your eyes, giving him a wide smile before rising from your love seat, slipping the parchment in your sleeve. Your steps passed straight by his still frozen figure until they had reached the door frame.

“Midoriya, my faithful servant.” Your voice echoed through the room like a skillful siren. His attention remained on you as you continued to speak.

“I want you in the main dining hall by eight on the dot. Please don’t be late.” You left before he could properly bow at your command.

The barren halls laughed at you, pricking your mentality, forming pairs of figures every few columns you passed. A maid was pressed against the left column just a while ago, arms wrapped around the pale neck of your husband, his arms around her peasant waist.

The one you just passed? The same maid laid her hands on Keigo’s face, smoothing out his goatee’s hairs, and he allowed her to.

The entrance of the dining hall up ahead held your heart’s worst fear. An exchange of breath, love, and intimacy that should be sacred between those wedded. Your mind pictured the peacock vase at the entrance shattering on your behalf, impaling the two’s skin. The imaginary screams were like wine to your ears as you finally entered the hall.

The area was warmed by the marble light of the great chandelier,everything was covered with the golden gleam, hiding the little splatters of deep red in the floor. A mint haired maid captured your attention.

“Your Majesty? I apologize, but the dining room is not finished for tonight’s dinner.” Her brown eyes stared at you nervously; her chubby cheek showed where her teeth bit into its flesh.

“Oh, no worries, I am just looking for now.” The fake smile stuck itself to your face as you examined the long dining table. Only a handful of food were fixated on the top.

“You make excellent food here, Cara. What beautiful carvings in the baby carrots.” You quirked up, noticing she stiffed at your last words.

“Of course, my work is only done best for you, y-your Majesty.” Your practiced laugh came through the room, instilling superficial relief in the maid.

“But I must ask, are you eating some as you cook? You’ve gotten wider in the last months.” Your hand took her chin; curious eyes roamed her plump face as she blushed by the attention.

“Haha, y-yes, I’ve been eating a little more than usual.” Her gaze shuffled to anywhere but you. She was such a terrible liar.

“As long as you’re not eating for two.” You threw your head back; melodious laughter exhausted your stomach pit. Cara barely joined in with her nervous laughter, face breaking red in embarrassment.

“Did I hear my little bird’s beautiful laughter?” The kingly presence broke into the room. Which one? You kept your tongue as Keigo wrapped you into a kiss, which sadly set your heart on fire. Your lips separated, trained eye watching as his own sneakily trailed to the kitchen maid. Your smile dulled before brightening .

“My King, I have exciting news for you.” Your face snuggled into his palm on your cheek. Hawks eyes gleamed like the most gilded of plates.

“Hm? Well, love, don’t keep me on my toes. Let me hear it.” You relished in his arms wrapped around your midsection before pulling out of his embrace, bopping him on the nose.

“That’s the purpose.o keep you anxious until the grand reveal.” Your smile started to burn your cheeks as you watched the room’s bustle, preparing for a grand disaster.

Violins and Cellos played throughout the dining hall as the dinner began. The long table set with food separated you and Keigo, each taking the farthest end. Playful looks and banters were exchanged between the two as the servants lined against the walls, ready for even the most subtle commands. After laughing at one of Keigo’s pun, you clapped, drawing everyone’s attention.

“Well, it was all a joyous evening, but I must bring attention to the evening’s highlight: the surprise.” Hawks quirked up in curiosity. The rest of the maids and Midoriya exchanged curious glances but did not say a word. You rose from your seat, hand gliding across the table’s surface.

“As you know, I am a lady of chastity, not by will, but by curse.” Your steps drew closer to your king.

“My father wishes nothing of seeing me carrying a little one. You, my king, are a young man, one who’s drive is active. A man who wishes to grow old with children around as you said at our first ball.” You were only a mere meter away from his seated figure, close enough to watch his adam’s apple bob in nervousness.

“Yes? But my little bird, why is this such an important announcement.”

“Be patient, my love. I am getting to that.” You were half a meter away from him now; his brow held the slightest furrow in them. Cara shuffled in the corner of your eye.

“Well, I begged my father, being of a monogamous nation, and it was hard. Harems were long abandoned in the kingdom of Braavos, but I did it.” You pulled from your sleeves the parchment paper and gave it to Keigo, whose eyes were full of anxiety. He opened the scroll to read.

“In the Kingdom of Fukuoka, the King will have the privilege of a harem, up to 20 women. He will be able to officially appear with them at balls, sleep with them, and—” his eyes flicker to you with shock before rereading what was written. “—procreate with them.”

You smiled before pointing to the end of the paper.

“Only if the Queen, rightfully crowned and inaugurated, is given the parenthood of all children birthed by the harem. The Queen will also be able to have a harem of her own, whether sexually or not.”

Hawks’ wings rose, eyes looking at you in disbelief. You lifted his face close to yours.

“Don’t worry, love. I only have eyes for you. Though,what happened to equality and freedom? The two things you fight for?” Your eyes flickered to Cara, whose face was red with anger. Keigo already took the pen from your sleeves and signed the paper.

“S-stop! This law c-can’t pass !” Her voice broke the cheery atmosphere, riddling it with confusion. The maids began to whisper frantically. You rose a brow at her outburst.

“And why is that? You have no say in royal affairs, kitchen maid.” Her eyes began to water, falling down her fat cheeks onto her fabric.

“P-please, d-don’t take my baby.” The room fell deadly silent after her plea. You ripped your hands from Hawks’ body, face morphing in shock.

“What do you mean, ‘your baby’?” Your eyes turned to Hawks, who sat silent. You could see the gears turning in his head to construct a lie.

“Hawks. What does she mean ‘your baby’?” His gears steamed before stopping abruptly, giving up on filing an excuse. His hands reached out to hold you.

“I can explain.” You moved quickly out of his range before halting him in his tracks.

“You can explain? Do you know how embarrassing that is to me? If it’s true, you’ve been cheating on me for months! Knowing that I couldn’t even bear for you!” Your heart pained you as the night you found out, reliving the shock and betrayal over again.

You were breaking character. Taking a deep breath, you turned away from your husband, a tear slowly streaking your face.

“We’ll talk about this when there aren't any spectators. Cara, bring out the special wine I’ve asked you to make for the celebration. I hope you two are happy.” Cara still stood on the spot, by fear and resistance. You turned to her; wide eyes staring straight into her soul.

“Now.” She ran to the kitchen, hand over mouth to hide her whimpers.

“Midoriya, help the pregnant lady out. It’ll be a shame if she broke her back or something.” Midoriya jumped up, running in the same direction as Cara.

“(Y/n), let me explain please—”

“There is nothing to explain; just enjoy your wine and celebrate.” The bitter sarcasm rolling off your tongue in waves. Cara and Midoriya entered the hall. Her eyes strong with will and face wiped of tears. Midoriya poured the wine for Hawks, filling his chalice to the brim. The winged king sighed and took an immediate gulp. You immediately turned to Cara, your eyes evoking sadness.

“I can’t even be in the same place as you two right now.” You stormed out of the dining room, leaving only the sounds of your shoes hitting the floor.

The candle lights flickered as Hawks entered your shared bedroom, dressed and cleaned for bed. You sat on your loveseat from the afternoon, now twirling a diamond ring on your finger. As he stood in front of you, your eyes remained on your hand.

“My love please forgive m—”

“Why?” You looked up at him; pupils dilated.

“Why should I?” He stepped back, startled to see the pain he had inflicted on you. He stared into your wide eyes for a moment longer until he knelt down, knees touching the red carpet’s wool. His hands clasped your own stopping the continuous twirl of your marriage symbol before wetting his dry lips.

“For a young royal bachelor, I was loved by all types of power-hungry men and women; they flocked me with compliments, ideas, whispers, promises. But you, you were the one that saw who I was behind my status, a young boy who lost his parents. A coward put into the place of a king before he could even blink. You saw the real me, and still, you didn’t turn away. We both embrace our vulnerabilities from each other, and if—” His Adam's apple bobbed, throat restricting as a tear fell from his eye. You shuffled in discomfort, your own tears brimming at his speech.

“—if I could take back what I had done, I would do so immediately, within a heartbeat. But she bears my child, and I...I can’t leave it as my father left me.” His neck strained to look up at you, forcing himself not to choke down a cry.

You laid your other hand on his own. Your tears were staining your cheek as you nodded your head frantically, taking him in your arms. He pulled you into a kiss, minty breath intertwining with your own as the candle flames swayed with the emotions.

The scream you let out in the morning had maids and guards rushing to your room. King Takami Keigo was found dead after you both went to sleep. Few hours from the coroner revealed he died of poison.

You walked down the winding stairs of the dungeon with Midoriya by your side. The last cell held a meager amount of light, only showing the mint green hair of Cara. She jumped at the sounds of your footsteps. You ambled up until the bars could touch your toes.

“To kill your very own king is a crime punishable by death.” She wracked in the chains, trying to get closer to you.

“I didn’t kill him! I swear it wasn’t me!”

“It wasn’t you?” You took the chalice from Midoriya, holding it up to the ceiling as if you were inspecting it.

“This was the last thing he consumed before coming to bed, so the maids say.” Your eyes turned back to the ex-kitchen maid who burst into tears; head bowed in shame.

“Everything has pointed to you, but I understand. I’d kill if the love of my life betrayed me too. I’d use the same exact poison too, Aqua Tofana, the famous poison used by many hurt women to end their lovers.” Her head creaked back to your figure, eyes widening with the growing smirk on your face.

“Although the law states you should serve immediate death, I don’t want that precious baby to go along with you. It’s my last semblance of Keigo, after all. So, as Queen of Fukuoka, I have decided to spare you until the baby has been born. You will stay in this jail cell with ample nursing so my child will be born safe and healthy. That is all.”

You and Midoriya left the dark dungeon, Cara’s screams echoing through the hollow area. Your smirk never softening as you climbed up the stairs, hand still holding Keigo's chalice.

Midoriya laid anxious the whole time. After all, he was guilty of killing the king, adding the poison to the wine when Cara wasn’t looking. His silence finally broke.

“My Queen? Why did you make me...do that?” You halted your steps, pondering as you looked at the golden chalice.

“Keigo would’ve never loved me again. She gave him what I couldn’t, a child to love. He would’ve rather played father with an actual mother, a mother who’d know how to love a child. So I had to stop that before I lost my throne.” Your fingers skimmed the actual feather-covered by gold on the cup, feeling its ridges and bumps.

“Izuku?”

“Yes, my Queen?”

“You would tell me when I’m wrong, right?

“Yes, my Queen.”

[alwaysbethewest]

Narcos fic: Don’t Hold Your Tongue

Title: Don’t Hold Your Tongue Pairing: Javier Peña/Steve Murphy Rating: Mature Word count: 2k Content/warnings: I bullied politely asked @pajamasecrets​ to give me some fic prompts and she suggested Steve and Javi get drunk and play truth or dare. So. That’s what this is. No plot, no angst, no spoilers, no beta. Just drinking and kissing and implications of more than that after it fades to black. Also posted at AO3.

  Javi’s never noticed before that there’s a diamond-shaped pattern on the ceiling of the ambassador’s office. Maybe because he’s never before been lying on the floor of her office staring up at it. God willing, he never will be again.

This whole thing was Steve’s idea. Javi was just dumb enough to go along with it.

Javier is senior in both age and rank but sometimes he forgets that that means he’s supposed to reign Steve in when he gets like this. Sometimes their interests align and they both want to cut loose at the same time and in the same way, and sometimes, like tonight, that means sneaking into the ambassador’s office after everyone else has gone home and drinking the obscenely expensive bottle of scotch Steve had spotted on her sideboard during a meeting earlier in the day.

It’s bordering on disrespectful to the label how quickly they’re downing the scotch. It’s one that should be savored, peaty and complex and fucking expensive. But this whole thing is a little bit not about the liquor at all and a lot about the principle of the thing and their private resentment over the ambassador continuing to block every request they’ve tried to make for what feels like the last six months.

And anyway, respect is clearly not of any concern to Steve, sitting as he is in the ambassador’s chair with his feet propped up on her desk. He’s at an odd angle, from Javi’s position on the floor, but he can still see Steve’s bright eyes and lazy-drunk mouth, how his cheeks suck in briefly as he takes a sip of whiskey and rolls it over his tongue to the back of his mouth. He watches his eyes flutter shut and Javi’s reflexes must be impaired because it takes him a second to realize when Steve’s eyes open again and are boring directly into him.

“Hey, Javi,” he drawls. “Truth or dare?”

Javi shakes his head. He’s not doing that.

“I’ll go first,” Steve offers. He takes another sip of his drink and lets out a satisfied sigh. “I pick truth. Ask me a question.”

Javi shakes his head again, giving him his best unimpressed look, and Steve swings his feet off the desk and stretches one leg out to nudge his foot against Javi’s shoulder. “C’mon.”

He’s really not doing this so he thinks of the most innocuous question he can, one so pointless it might insult Steve into giving up.

“What’s your favorite color?”

Steve makes a face but he stops and thinks about it. “Blue. But like, dark blue. Like a medium-dark blue.” He pokes his foot into Javi’s arm again. “Like that shirt you have. That blue shirt is my favorite color.”

There’s a pause. Javi doesn’t have anything to say to that. He’s trying to remember which shirt Steve means and which exact shade of medium-dark blue it is.

“Your turn,” Steve says. “Truth or dare?”

“I’m not playing,” he reminds him.

Steve frowns down at him. “You can’t do that. You already asked me a question, you don’t get to bow out now.”

“I asked you a harmless one,” he says.

“Who says mine won’t be harmless?” Steve protests. “I’m gonna kick you in the head if you don’t play. Truth or dare?”

“Truth,” he says finally, resigned.

“How many women who work in this building have you slept with?”

“Hijo de puta,” he mutters, and Steve laughs, delighted to have gotten a rise out of him. Javi pushes onto his elbows to take a drink of his scotch and thinks about how to answer. He wants to ask Steve how he’s defining slept with but he doesn’t feel like getting into the discussion that would invite. He decides not to count purely hand stuff and rounds down a little and tells him, “Three.”

“Hmm,” Steve says skeptically. “I thought it’d be more.”

Javi shrugs. “Maybe I’m more of a gentleman than you think I am.”

“Right,” Steve snorts. He rubs a knuckle over his eye and takes a breath, about to say something else.

“Truth or dare?” Javi asks, before Steve can interrogate him any further.

“Dare.”

He tries to think of a good one. Thinks back to when he was a kid, since this is an actual children’s game.

“I dare you to streak around the fifth floor.”

“That’s dumb,” Steve protests, but he’s shifting in his seat like he’s unsure. “There’s nobody here.”

“Could be,” Javi shrugs. “If you’re scared, you don’t have to do it—”

“I’m not scared,” Steve says. He pushes out of the chair and starts unbuttoning his shirt. “I’m just saying, it’s a waste of a dare ‘cause nobody’s going to see it.”

“I don’t care. You wanted a dare, you got a dare.”

Steve lets out a put-upon sigh but he’s naked by the time he reaches the door, clothes strewn across the floor in a messy trail. He’s a long, tall stretch of pale skin and Javi takes him in just for a second before looking back down into his glass. Steve sticks his head out of the door, peering down the hallway, and then he takes off in a jog and Javi chuckles and empties his glass and lies back, eyes closed, to wait.

The quiet solitude of the room makes him feel a little too drunk and a little maudlin and his thoughts turn briefly to serious questions like what are they even doing down here and is it making any difference and also, now that he thinks about it, are he and Steve going to be able to find a cab home this late since they’re both way past too shitfaced to drive. He opens his eyes again and stares up at the diamond-patterned ceiling and pictures the dismayed expression on the ambassador’s face if she were to find them passed out on her floor come morning. Almost, but not quite, funny enough to be worth it.

It’s not long before Steve returns, flush-cheeked and scrambling to get his pants back on. He stumbles a little and is laughing breathlessly and it makes Javi laugh, too, seeing how his face is glowing with the rush of this low-stakes moment of exhibitionism. Steve attempts the buttons on his shirt but his fingers are fumbling and he quickly gives up and leaves it open, fabric fanning out over his hips when he sinks down on the floor by Javi and props his back against the side of the desk. He tucks one bare foot under Javi’s thigh and chuckles again.

“Shit,” he breathes. “You know if I’d gotten caught and got fired for that you’d be stuck down here all by yourself.”

“That was my plan all along,” Javi tells him.

Steve wiggles his toes under his leg. “No it wasn’t.”

The room goes quiet again. Javi’s hand bumps against Steve’s ankle and he idly circles his fingers around it, under the hem of his pants.

“Your turn,” Steve says. “Truth or dare?”

“We’re still doing this?”

“You owe me, man, you just made me run buck naked through the office. It’s your turn.”

“I’m not running anywhere,” Javi warns him. “Truth.”

Steve is thoughtful for a few breaths, glancing around the room while he considers, before landing his eyes on Javi again. “Have you ever kissed a guy?”

“What?” Javi says, which is a mistake, because not saying no is almost as good as saying yes and now Steve’s eyes are burning into him.

“Yes or no, it’s a simple question,” he says.

Javi wishes he still had whiskey in his glass to swallow the rough feeling out of his throat. He realizes his fingers have gone tight around Steve’s ankle and he lets go and drops his hand to the carpeted floor.

“Yes.”

“I haven’t,” Steve offers. Not exactly a surprise.

“Okay,” Javi says. His brain is too fuzzy and Steve’s expression too calm for him to feel panicked, but he does feel—confused, maybe. Unsure what to say.

“Do you dare me to?”

“What?”

“It’s my turn,” Steve reminds him. “And I want a dare. Do you dare me to?”

“Sure,” Javi says, before he can think too much about it, and it still comes as a surprise when Steve shifts onto his knees and then straddles Javi’s hips and leans down to hover over his face. His expression is determined, overly serious, and it makes Javi laugh, struck by how ridiculous this all is. Steve’s brow furrows but the corner of his mouth lifts up, simultaneously amused and taken aback by Javier’s reaction.

“What are you laughing for?” he asks. Maybe trying to decide if he should be offended.

Javi huffs out another laughing breath. “Just, your face. You looked so serious.”

His face softens and Javi watches as his eyes flick down to Javi’s mouth, back up to meet his gaze again. “I am serious,” he murmurs, and leans in closer. “I want it to be good.”

He kisses him and it is good, it’s nice. His mouth is careful and softer than Javi would have expected, and Javi kisses him back, feeling the strain in the back of his neck from pressing up to meet him. He slips a hand around the back of Steve’s head to pull him closer as he relaxes against the carpet and Steve makes a pleased, surprised sound against his mouth and slides his tongue over Javi’s lips. It’s languid, a slow, easy kiss that moves like it’s got no destination in mind, just the journey of Steve’s tongue slipping into his mouth, stroking against him and drawing back again to allow his teeth to graze lightly over Javi’s bottom lip.

Steve’s body is still miles away from his, hovering over him, and it doesn’t feel right. Javi slides his hand down Steve’s back, grips onto his hip, and tugs him down to press his body into his, a comfortable, heavy weight landing over him.

“Shit,” Steve murmurs. He grinds his hips slowly over Javi’s, letting him feel where he’s starting to go hard just from the kiss. Javi’s pulse speeds up and he’s grateful for the deep breath he’s able to take when Steve drags his mouth away from his and presses his lips along his jawline instead. “Hey Javi,” Steve whispers. “Truth or dare?”

He thinks about it, briefly, and decides he still doesn’t want to risk being dared to do anything that would move him away from this spot. “Truth.”

Steve pulls back a few inches to watch his face carefully, looking thoughtful. His mouth is shiny and plush and Javi wants to kiss him again.

“Truth,” Steve says, considering. “Have you ever gotten off in an ambassador’s office?”

Javi laughs. “I came close once.”

“Yeah? What happened?”

He slides his hands under the loose ends of Steve’s shirt and presses his fingers into the hot skin at the base of his spine. “I don’t know yet.”

A smile spreads across Steve’s face and he leans down and bites at Javi’s lip again. He works his hand into the space between their bodies and rests it on Javi’s belly.

He murmurs Javi’s name in a soft, drawn-out drawl, and wriggles his fingers behind Javi’s belt. “Do you dare me?”

Javi tastes the stolen scotch on his breath and feels the rough carpet against his back and the slide of Steve’s long fingers inching into his pants, the hard length of him pressing against Javi’s hip. He catches sight of the diamond-shaped ceiling tiles out of the corner of his eye and thinks, this might be one of the top five dumbest things he’s ever done, but it might also be one of the best because sometimes life overlaps like that. And he slides a hand up the broad length of Steve’s back to his neck, pulls him in close again, and tells him, “Yes.”

[bubblywrites]

All Of The Good Things

Bruno Buccellati x Reader

Summary:

Y/n was the love of Bruno's life. When she died, Bruno became broken. He tries to push through the pain for their daughter Mari, but he ultimately struggles to make it through their day to day life. All he can do is reminisce on all the good moments he had with his wife.

Word Count: 5,248

A/n: The reader has curly hair, but you can ignore that detail if you don’t have that hair texture. The fic is based off of Jhene Aiko’s song Eternal Sunshine

Bruno was awoken by the warm kiss of sunlight and angelic humming. The tune held a sense of joy but had a hint of sadness. Bruno felt himself relax further as soft hands gently grasped his face to move him on to pillowly thighs. Slender fingers ran through his blue-tinted black locks with occasional soft tugs. Bruno let a smile creep onto his face as he sighed through his nose. The beautiful humming stopped.

“Did I wake you?” You asked with a faint chuckle. Bruno kept his eyes closed as he responded to your question. “I thought I could pretend to be asleep, so I could hear more of your humming.” He said in a groggy voice. “Well you failed at that.” You said. You gently pinched his cheek. Bruno let out a low laugh. “I did. Could you please continue?” Bruno asked. “No problem.” You responded.

You began to hum your song again. Light notes flowed out of you with grace. Words soon followed. Bruno snuggled further into your thighs as you sang.

“Is it strange for me to say that If I were to die today There's not a thing I would change I've lived well Maybe I have made mistakes and been through my fair share of pain But all in all, it's been okay, I've lived well And the more that I see, the more that I know I don't know anything, at all Like the more that I breath, and start to go slow Oh, one of many things, I can only recall All of the good things, good things All of the good things, good things Only the good, the good, the good Only the good, the good, the good” You stopped your song. Bruno kept his eyes closed but raised an eyebrow at your sudden silence. He felt light taps to his forehead.

“It’s time for you to go to work Bruno.” You said. Bruno scrunched his eyebrows at your statement. He reluctantly pulled himself from your thighs to sit up on the bed. He stretched his arms which created defined creases along the toned muscles of his back. A view he knew you enjoyed since he slept with no shirt on. He raked his fingers through his bed hair. He turned around to catch you in the middle of your.

“Do you enjoy the view cara?” Bruno joked. “I do every morning.” You said. Bruno chuckled at your response. “Do you know what I enjoy every morning?” Bruno asked. You crossed your arms over your chest and gave him a small smirk on your face. You blinked at him slowly. He loved when you gave him sass. It gave him a chance to wipe the smirk off your face and teach you lessen.

“What?” You questioned. Bruno scooted closer to you. He gently grasped your face and brought your forehead against his. He looked into your (e/c) eyes with an intense gaze. He had to stop his smirk when he saw light pink creep unto your face. Bruno tilted his head to press his lips against yours. The kiss started off chaste but became hungry. Bruno pulled you into his lap and snaked his arms around your waist. You rested your hands on his shoulders. Bruno licked your lower lip asking for entrance. You refused him.

“She’s still acting sassy.” Bruno thought to himself. Bruno used his right hand to pinch your peaked nipple through your pajama shirt. You opened your mouth to let out a squeak which allowed him to slide his tongue into your mouth. He engaged in a dance with your tongue. A dance that only the two of you knew. Your soft moan spurred Bruno on. He held you in a desperate embrace as if you would disappear. You two broke the kiss for air. Bruno held you against him as he laid back down on the bed. He peppered your face with kisses. Your giggles were music to his ears. Your singing, humming, laughter, moans, and cries were beautiful performances meant for his ears alone. You were his personal symphony. You stopped your giggle fit and cusped the side of Bruno’s face. He leaned into your touch to bask in your warmth.

“Its not like you to get side tracked Mr. Workaholic. But I won’t play into anymore of your affections. You need to get ready for the day. Plus you need to wake up Mari.” You said. Bruno’s face grew sullen. He grabbed the hand that held his face.

“When I wake up to get ready with Mari, you won’t be there.” He said in a broken voice. You two held on to each other tighter. You gave him a sad smile.

“I know Bruno, but you have to get ready for work. You have to get ready for Mari. You have to move on Bruno.” You said. Bruno’s eyes shot open at your words. How could he possibly move on? There was only one love of his life. There was only one woman who could be a mother to his precious Mari. There was only one woman who could bring him happiness. There was only one you.

“How could I move on from you amore mio? You and Mari are the only women who I can hold close to my heart.” He said. Bruno’s voice shook. Tears spilled from his eyes as he held a vice-grip on your hand and waist. He felt your warm fingers wipe away his tears. You moved closer to him to press a kiss against his forehead. “Bruno, amore mio, you have to get ready. You have to get Mari ready. You have to wake up.”

Loud buzzing rang through Bruno’s bedroom. Bruno turned to look at his alarm clock with pure malice. He slammed his hand on the device to turn it off. Bruno lifted his hand to wipe the grogginess away from his eyes. He stopped when he noticed the tears that streaked down his face. The sunlight streamed into his room to kiss his skin. But the kiss of the sun felt more like a cold grip on his body without your morning songs. Bruno moved to get out of bed. He did not dare look at the other side of the bed. The last thing he wanted was to be reminded of your lack of presence. Bruno stared at the drawer next to his bed. Your perfume, charm bracelets, and makeup decorated the top of the drawer. They never moved spots since the day you passed. His head sunk low as his mind raced with memories of your morning routines.

“Why do you even wear makeup? You're pretty without it.” Bruno asked. “I don’t just wear it to feel prettier. I wear it because it’s fun. It's like I allow myself to become my own canvas. I am able to tell a story with my face.” You responded. Bruno grabbed your hand to kiss it. “Your bare face tells the best story of all.” Bruno said. You blushed at his words. You wrapped your arms around him and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

Bruno gripped his dark locks so tight his knuckles turned white. Before he could let his mind wander to more memories of you, a small knock came from his door. Bruno attempted to wipe the dread from his face before he answered. “Come in.” He said. The door creaked as a tiny body entered the room. Bruno stared at his three year old daughter, Mari. Mari had his blue-tinted black hair, but it was your curly hair texture. She had his eyes, but everything else came from you.

“Buon giorno, Daddy.” She said. “Buon giorno, Mari.” Bruno responded. He opened his arms wide with a smile. His smile was tired and felt strained, but Bruno wanted to try his hardest to look happy for his daughter. Mari ran into his arms. He embraced her as tight as he could. After a few seconds, he pulled away from the hug. Bruno rested his hand on the top of her head. He twirled her curls around his fingers. Mari did not look as tired as he did, but she had changed. Her childish laughter could no longer be heard through the halls of the house. She smiled less and slept more often. It made the house quieter and colder.

“Daddy!” Mari yelled. Bruno turned to see Mari turn the corner in a rush. She jumped at him. Although surprised, Bruno caught Mari with ease. “What's got you screaming and running through the house bambina?” Bruno asked with a smile. “Mommy is chasing me. You have to help me.” Mari said with giddiness. Before he could act, you entered the kitchen with your radiant smile. You looked at the two with an exaggerated maniacal face.

“She found me!” Mari yelled. Bruno pressed Mari closer to his chest. “I see I have two tickle victims now.” You said. You laughed like a villain in a child’s television show. Bruno put Mari down to step in front of her. He put his arm in front of her. Bruno cleared his throat.

“I will not let you harm my princess you villainess queen.” Bruno said. Bruno had to try hard to hold in his laugh. You jumped at Bruno, but he caught you with ease. He gave you a soft tackle to the floor and attacked your sides. You erupted into laughter. You tried to push him off of you, but Bruno only applied more pressure onto your body.

“Get her Daddy!” Mari said enthusiastically. Bruno turned to give Mari a heroic smile. Bruno didn’t notice you took advantage of his distracted state to grab Mari. You pulled her which caused Bruno to fall on top of you. Mari landed on top of Bruno’s back.

“You guys are heavy.” You whined. Bruno looked at you with a grin that stretched ear to ear. Mari giggled into Bruno’s back. The laughter and joy in the kitchen resonated through the whole house.

Bruno let out a sigh as he realized he will never have moments like that again. He picked Mari up to take her to her room. As he walked down the hallway, he tried hard not to look at the pictures that littered the wall. All of the pictures were filled with your smiles. A smile that once brought him so much joy now brings him pain and regret. He can’t look at your exquisite paintings because all he can think about is the happy look on your face when you made them.

When he entered Mari’s room, he stared at the intricate design of her room. The walls were painted with blue waves that crashed against each other along with an assortment of colorful fish to match. Beautiful seashells and conch shells hung from the ceiling. Mari’s bed sheets had cerulean and white stripes to match the eyes she got from her father as well as his favorite color. The carpet was seafoam green to match the sea aesthetic of the room.

“Your eyes have always reminded me of the sea. Since she has your eyes, she will be a child of the sea, so her room should match.” You said.

“How do you even come up with these conclusions.” Bruno said with a laugh.

Bruno blinked away the tears that resurfaced from his memories. “Daddy are you okay?” Mari asked. “I’m fine. Are you okay?” Bruno asked. “I miss Mommy.” Mari said. Her eyes started to water. Bruno held her close and rubbed her back.

“I miss Mommy too.” Bruno responded. Mari sniffled and wiped her eyes. She kicked her feet, a signal for Bruno to put her down. He obliged as he went to rummage through her drawers to find her comb and hair products. Once he found the items, he called Mari over. She crawled into his lap. Bruno attempted to comb through the mess of curls on Mari’s head, but the comb got caught in her hair multiple times. He yanked the comb in frustration which caused Mari to yelp in pain.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you bambina.” Bruno apologized. He kissed the top of her head. Mari turned around to kiss Bruno’s cheek. “It’s okay. Mommy said to comb at the ends and-” “To comb section by section while applying conditioner and curl cream. I remember, thank you.” Bruno said. Mari wiggled in his lap as she nodded her head. Bruno laughed and kissed her forehead. She settled back into his lap to let him continue.

“Bruno, I told you to pay attention while I do her hair. You're gonna have to do it on days I leave earlier than you.” You scolded.

“I’m watching (Y/n), I’m watching (Y/n).” Bruno said. “No you’re not. You’re staring at my butt.” You responded. “Are those new shorts?” Bruno asked, with a smile plastered onto his face. “Bruno!” You yelled.

Bruno smiled at the memory. He pulled Mari into a hug. She squeezed his arms back. “I should’ve paid more attention when your mother did your hair. All I could do was put into a ponytail.” Bruno said. He motioned to grab the baby blue mirror on the dresser to show Mari her hair. She moved side to side to get a good look at herself. There wasn’t much of an expression on her face. Bruno gulped.

“Do you like it?” He asked. “Yes.” She responded. Her voice was laced with confusion. “I don’t have to lick your face to know you're lying.” Bruno said. His face formed into a pout. Mari giggled.

“Its not ugly. Its just not as pretty as mommy’s.” Mari said with a hint of sadness. Bruno patted her head and said, “I know, but thank you for trying to like it.” “I don’t have to try. I do like it. Good job Daddy.” Mari said. She gave him two thumbs ups. Bruno chuckled before he thanked her for her honesty.

“Before we get dressed, we have to eat so you don’t mess up your dress. What do you want to eat?” Bruno asked. Mari bounced as she gave her response. “I wanna eat plantains and eggs.” Fried plantains and eggs were your favorite breakfast dish. It was strange to him at first but it grew on him. Mari on the other hand, took an immediate liking to the meal. Bruno put his index finger and thumb to his chin while he looked at the ceiling.

“The eggs I can do. I might burn the plantains though.” Bruno said. “Daddy, the kinda burnt ones are the best ones.” Mari responded. Bruno looked at Mari surprised. His surprise was short lived as he broke into laughter.

Bruno picked up Mari to go downstairs. He was greeted by a silent kitchen. Mornings were never quiet with you. The silence was dreadful and lonely. The cold floor tiles were cruel to his feet. The white marble counters looked dull without your vibrant dishes splayed on them. Bruno stared at the counter for a moment to admire your colorful knife set. The ones you bought to make the kitchen look more lively.

Loud upbeat music played as Bruno made his way downstairs. There you were, engaged in a dance as you prepared breakfast. Bruno leaned on the wall to take in the sight. You swayed your hips to the beat of the song and gave an occasional butt wiggle. Bruno tiptoed around the kitchen in hopes you would not see him. He was as graceful as a ninja. Once he got behind you, he grabbed your hips and pulled you close to him. You jumped, which made you let out a scream. You turned around in his grasp. You smacked his shoulder in a playful manner.

“You scared the life out of me Bruno.” You said with a smile. “What do you have to be scared of? Were the only ones here.” Bruno said with a chuckle.

Bruno sighed. He put Mari down so he could start his scavenge of the fridge. He put his hand to the side of his neck as he realized the fridge was empty. He looked to the counters, but all there were was leftover takeout boxes and one plantain. Bruno brought the fruit to his nose. He took a whiff and scrunched up his nose.

“This one’s been sitting on the counter for too long. Sorry Mari, I guess we’ll have to grab breakfast on the way. Your mother would scream if she saw the state of the kitchen right now.” Bruno said. Mari’s face became sullen. Her head sunk low while she twiddled her thumbs in her lap. Bruno frowned at her action.

“Its okay. I’m not very hungry anyway. We’re gonna eat later anyway.” Mari said. Bruno knew that if you were here, Mari would throw a fit that she could not have plantains and eggs for breakfast. She tried to be more behaved ever since you passed. Bruno sighed. He walked over to Mari so that he could grab her little hands.

“I’ll tell you what. We can pick up some plantains and eggs from the farmers market today. We can have them for dinner tonight.” Bruno said. “Okay.” Mari responded with a small smile.

Bruno picked up Mari to head back upstairs to her room. He opened her closet to pull out her small black dress. The dress was a simple short sleeve with little black frills at the bottom. Your sister picked it out for her. Bruno dressed Mari in little time.

“Stay here while I go get dressed.” Bruno said as he tapped her nose. “Make sure to comb your hair Daddy. Its been messy all morning.” Mari said. Bruno ran his fingers through his hair. It slipped his mind to fix it when he woke up. You probably would have reminded him. Bruno walked back to his room and closed the door behind him. Contrary to Mari’s room, you and his shared bedroom was rather simple. The walls were painted white, the bedsheets on the king sized bed were navy blue, and the carpet was a light beige. The only things that made the room standout were the paintbrushes that laid on the table and dressers and the curtains. The curtains were white with black spoon shaped polka dots. They were identical to his signature white suit.

Bruno opened the closet to take out his black suit. The suit was like his white one except the dots were white instead of black, the chest area was closed, and it lacked his golden zipper accessories. Bruno put on the suit in no time. He stood in the mirror to tie his tie but stopped. His eyes lacked their usual shine, darks circles and bags adorned his eyes. There were a few breakouts on his forehead and cheek. He took a deep breath and exhaled. Bruno grabbed his comb to run it through his hair. He sectioned off a large strand of hair to do his braid.

“Let me do your braid.” You asked. “Alright.” Bruno responded. He moved to sit on the bed. You stood between his legs and started to work in his hair. Bruno sighed as he let himself relax into your touch. He shifted closer to you to take in a deep whiff of your tropical scent.

Bruno finished up his braid. He took one last look in the mirror before he set out to leave. He glanced at the dresser and paused when he saw your tropical scented perfume. Bruno pondered for a moment. He contemplated on whether or not he should wear it. It was a scent he loved on you but thought it would be strange if he ever wore it. He shook his head and grabbed the bottle. Bruno sprayed the scented liquid onto himself three times before he exited his room.

“Mari, were leaving.” Bruno called out. Mari ran out from her room. She raised her hand towards Bruno to grab his hand. Bruno intertwined his fingers with hers. They put on their shoes and left for the church.

When Bruno and Mari arrived at the church, his gang was there. Your siblings were there as well. After you died, missed calls and unanswered text messages from them piled up in his phone. He declined any in person meetups with them. He couldn’t look them in the eyes or muster the courage to talk to them. The only one he talked to was (S/n), your sister. It was a one time conversation he had with her to ask her to pick out the funeral dress for Mari and to discuss the funeral details.

Everyone looked at him but said nothing. Their eyes were filled with sympathy. They all knew that anything they said would not lift Bruno’s spirits. As he went to take his seat with Mari, he felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned to see who it was. He was greeted by emerald green eyes and all to familiar golden hair.

“Giorno.” Bruno whispered. “May I speak to you?” Giorno asked. Bruno turned his head to Mari. She gave a small smile to Giorno. He smiled back at her with a small wave. “Buccellati, I’ll look after her.” Mista said. He popped up out of nowhere. Bruno almost did not recognize Mista without his hat. With his short brown hair out, Mista somehow looked more mature.

Bruno nodded at Mista. He made his way out of the church’s sanctuary with Giorno. Bruno admired the stained glass and red checkered flooring. The church was beautiful. It would always be beautiful to Bruno since this was the church where he married you. It was only appropriate that he had your funeral held here.

They stopped at the doors of the sanctuary to talk. “Buccellati, you look tired. When was the last time you slept properly?” Giorno asked. “The last time I slept properly, (Y/n) was in bed waiting for me.” Bruno responded. Giorno swallowed.

“I want you to know none of this was your fault. No one could have ever predicted the chauffeur would get into an accident.” Giorno said. Giorno looked Bruno in the eyes with intensity. His expression was soft but held a sense of dominance. It was like Giorno offered all his sympathies to Bruno but wanted to command his friend to care for himself. Bruno turned from Giorno’s gaze. His face was overcome with guilt.

“If I never suggested she take the chauffeur to her art show, she would still be here.” Bruno whispered.

You were not part of the gang. You were a civilian who made a successful art career for yourself. You and Bruno met when you two were thirteen. You were a girl left alone in this world to care for your three younger siblings. The owner of Libeccio, was a friend of your father’s who took you and your siblings in. Bruno met you there. At first you were a bother to him. He would answer in short sentences and one word phrases in an attempt not to be rude, but to let you know to back off. However, you were persistent. You bothered him constantly to try to talk. He wanted nothing to do with you since he was part of the mafia. However, one day Bruno yielded. He sat down and had a full conversation with you. The conversation was meant to be short, but Bruno found that he enjoyed his time with you. His talk with you allowed him to open up a little. It made him feel happy that someone sat down to really look at him. Someone truly wanted to know more about him without the urge to have something in return. He continued to talk to you at the restaurant, in your room, his house, and your secret hideout: a rooftop of an abandoned building. He knew the more time you spent with him could put you in danger, but he wanted to be selfish when it came to you. With you, he could be himself. With you, he had someone he could confide in. With you, he had a true friend that looked past his mafia ties to see the real him. With you, he fell in love. With you, he had a daughter. With you, came your death.

Your art show was about a month ago. The show was meant for you to promote some of your most recent pieces. You said you would be fine if you drove yourself, but Bruno insisted you take one of his chauffeurs. You took his offer. When the chauffeur arrived, you kissed his and Mari’s cheeks, excited to see them at your show. However, you never arrived at the show. Your car was hit by a drunk driver. You had a stand ability that could heal, but the crash caused you to fall unconscious. You were unable to heal yourself. Bruno did not find out about the accident until an hour after it happened. By that time, it was too late. The doctors could not save you. Giorno could not save. He could not save you.

Bruno clutched your hand as he stared into your lifeless face. He cried into your palm.

“Please, amore mio, don’t leave us. I can’t lose another person I love.” Bruno pleaded. You did not answer. You would never be able to answer him again.

Bruno turned to look at the sanctuary. The church staff had brought in your casket. Bruno gulped. “The ceremony will be starting soon.” Bruno said, in a voice no louder than whisper. Giorno said nothing as Bruno walked back to his seat next to Mari. Mista still sat with her. Mista gave Bruno a saddened face before he patted his shoulder and went back to his own seat.

The priest came out in his white robe to say his prayers. After the priest gave his piece, All of your siblings came up to give their sentiments. Bruno wished he could focus on what they had to say, but his eyes were glued to your casket. He did not get a good look at your face from his distance. In all honesty, he was scared to get a good look at you. He did not know how he would react if he got a second look at your dead body. Bruno’s was pulled out of his stupor when he saw it was his turn to speak about you. Bruno trudged up the stairs of the altar. He saw your face. It was peaceful, but you had a scar that ran diagonally on your right cheek. Bruno began to tremble. He bit his lip as he stared at your body. He slowly turned around to look at the guests. Your siblings and Marco, the owner of Libeccio, along with his son were sitting on the left side of the room. Narancia, Mista, Fugo, Abbacchio, Giorno, Mari and others who knew the two of you were on the right. Bruno gulped. He opened his mouth but found no words. How could he summarize his life with you? Where could he even begin to talk about how much you meant to him? Bruno used all his might to force some kind of words out.

“(Y/n), was the light of my life. She was my happiness, my joy, my everything. (Y/n) was my, uhm, my...ah.” Bruno stuttered. He could no longer form coherent sentences. He hung his head low so he would not cry. But he hung his head more so in shame that he could not say more about his beloved wife. Everyone poured their sympathies to Bruno with their eyes. They all understood that your death would hit Bruno the hardest. Unable to speak, Bruno slowly walked back to his seat. After some more words from other attendees, it was time for everyone to pay their respects to you. It broke Bruno when Mari started to cry and scream for her mother. It took everything Bruno had to not wail alongside her. He held Mari close to try and soothe her. He repeated to Mari over and over again everything would be okay. The repetition of the phrase was an attempt to try to convince himself that everything would be okay.

Everyone left the church to move to the burial site. Not many words were shared at the burial site. Everyone said what they had to share in the church. Bruno watched as men put your casket into the ground. Mari squeezed his hand as tight as she could as she continued to cry. Bruno held her hand with just as much force. Every small pile of dirt that landed on your casket tugged at Bruno’s heart strings. Soon the whole was filled. You were truly no longer of this world. People tried to give Bruno and Mari words of encouragement as they left, but Bruno drowned their words out. Marco came up to Bruno. He put his hand on his shoulder before he spoke.

“She really loved you Buccellati. Keep smiling for her and Mari. She needs you more than anyone right now. Also talk to them.” Marco said, as he pointed his thumb to your siblings. “(S/n) and the others don't blame you for their sister’s death. They're your family too. So am I.” Marco said. Bruno looked at Marco’s face ready to cry. Although his black hair was greyed and his brown eyes were adorned with crows feet, Marco still looked young for a fifty-five year old man. Marco became a second father to Bruno after he started his relationship with you. Marco was protective of you when it came to boys but never with Bruno. Marco trusted him. Bruno knew he would always have a special place in Marco’s heart and vice versa. Marco gave Bruno a strong squeeze and a smile. He let go of Bruno and ruffled Mari’s hair before he took his leave. All of his team members knew not to say anything to him. They knew he needed this time alone with his daughter. Everyone left one by one until him and Mari were the only ones at your grave. The two of them stood in silence as they stared at your tombstone. The silence was broken as Mari began to sing.

“Is is strange for me to say that If I were to die today There's not a thing I would change I've lived well Maybe I have made mistakes and been through my fair share of pain But all in all, it's been okay, I've lived well And the more that I see, the more that I know I don't know anything, at all Like the more that I breath, and start to go slow Oh, one of many things, I can only recall” Mari sang.

Bruno began to shake as Mari sang her song. It was the song you wrote and always sang around the house. It was the song you sang or hummed to him almost every morning. Bruno could no longer keep up his mental damn. He let his tears fall, but he smiled through them. He looked at Mari as she smiled back at him. They sang unison, “All of the good things, good things All of the good things, good things Only the good, the good, the good Only the good, the good, the good”

[queensdivas]

Peonies Chapter 6

Finally getting to the good stuff because I have been waiting for these chapters!!! Like waiting for Chiara to get to this point and for the record. This chapter is very long. Freakin’ 15 pages on my google docs so just be ready for a long read. 

But!

+18 and older in this chapter!!! Smut alert (cause it’s spicy)!!!!!!! Once again +18 and older in this chapter!!! 

Other than that here we go!!! 

Next chapter 

Previous Chapter 

Masterlist 

HOLY FUCK FUCK FUCK!

GOD THIS IS FANTASTIC HOLY SHIT!

My fingers were yanking on his hair as I was riding him to oblivion! His nails dug into my back for the tempo to pick up even more. I could feel his teeth biting hard into my neck which made me squeeze even harder. I never thought that being bitten was such a wonderful feeling in my life! His teeth just clenching into my skin just made it so much better!

“Holy fuck Chiara!” He took in a huge breath of air as I pushed him down onto the ground.

“Scream my name!” I yelled as we were getting closer and closer to that sweet edge!

“GRIGOR AH FUCK!” My nails digging into his chest!

“Choke me.” I stopped to then looked directly into his eyes.

“Do you want me to say it in italian? Ti prego soffocami Chiara.” Holy hell. If that’s what he wants then who am to say no. Picking up my rhythm again as my hand reached down to his throat.

“That’s it...holy shit that’s it!” God I could feel him..Holy hell. My toes were curling from the pleasure as me choking him would fuck me harder! The way he’s moaning is just absolutely stunning and making it so much better! It’s so..fucking..beautiful! His moaning just sends shivers up and down my entire core!

Grigor's hands traveled up to squeeze my breast tightly for then his left hand to travel up to my neck. Oh god he’s going faster! Yes yes yes yes! I could see flowers blooming! Stars exploding before my eyes. I had to let go of my grip to collapse on his chest as he pounded into me.

God I want to stick my tongue down his throat fuck! Turning my head for me to start kissing the fuck out of him. Our tongues slithered around with one another till he basically took over for a few moments. Stopping the tangliging as he began diving into my neck to mark the shit out of me.

“Stick your tongue down my throat.” Pulling his head from my neck to start slamming my lips against him for our tongues to start twirling around with one another. God his tongue can make me come just from this Jesus. He stopped as the final penetration was arriving and it was so beautiful! Each thrust was hitting exactly where it needed to be!

“Grigor! Grigor..” My eyes rolled in the back of my head as we looked at one another. Just watching his facial expression change was just intoxicating!

“Cumming..CUMMING!” Grigors neck leaned back as I laughed since I’ve never seen him in such selief. After a moment he looked up to see that I..I..

“Did you not?” It cued for him as he pushed me onto the ground and got on top of me.

“I may not be able to finish you with my cock. But I know your pussy loves other things besides cock. Ride my face.” My entire body turned dark red for me to slide down and positioned myself on his face.

Dear...Ah...God...I can’t even describe on how. Ahhhhh. My hands began to touch my own breast for my head to lean back to almost fall backwards onto his body. His tongue was going round and round constantly.

My hand went down to start rubbing my own clit to make the sensation feel even more exquisite. Yes..YES! While my right hand was continuing on my clit my left hand began to pull his air. His two bare hands travelled up my sides to then give my ass a wonderful smack.

“Gri..Grigor..almost..almost..” He kept smacking which was the final push over the edge. A wave of electricity streaked through my body in the final moment. Yanking his hair as hard as I could for him to moan underneath my body.

This Russian coldness couldn’t even bother us at the moment from the large amount of body heat radiating off one another. Climbing off of him to then lay down on the cool grass. My chest was rising and falling as we both were staring up into the tree. The leaves are swaying in the wind that was allowing a cool breeze to rest on our naked bodies.

“Holy fuck.” I smiled as we turned our heads to face one another.

“I don’t think I’ve ever experienced something like that…” He commented as I smiled.

“Our love making would’ve been the type you would see in great halls. The greek gods I believed experienced something like that before.” Grigor sat up to grab a glass of water. He took a large sip then for me to sit up and take a sip after him.

“Tell me my dearest do you always enjoy..” Motioning to his neck as he sighed.

“The Emperor told me once that it helps make this more pleasurable. Guess that’s the only time that he’s been right because holy fuck.” I guess so. He wasn’t wrong about that because that was fantastic. Wait..those are hand prints.

“Grigor..I left..” Oh shit. I left markings and more specifically my hand marks from too hard of choking.

“I’m so sorry oh my…” I feel horrible! My eyes drifted over to my shoulder where I had bite marks from what I could see.

“Barbarians we are.” He commented as he scooted closer to me and kissed his own bite marks. I leaned over to see that we still had some fresh bread and I am starving. Leaning over to grab a slice then spread a little jam.

“So when were you going to tell me you’ve been learning italian.” Taking a bite as he snuck in to take the next bite.

“Figured you would be more impressed. A tutor for the children was teaching them French and since French and Italian are very similar, it worked out perfectly.” He had a little jam on the corner of his mouth. Leaning in to lick it off he left a soft kiss on his lips.

“Thieves should be punished.” Laughing as I was extremely close to his face.

“Should I be?” My hand snuck up his chest

“Yes. But not at this moment.” Raising my piece of my bread to then scoot away from him. Grabbing a grape to put into my mouth to slow eat in front of him.

“You should try these grapes Grigor. They taste devine.” Taunting him with another grape as I could tell he wanted to get on top of me and ravish. But ah ah ah. He’s being punished for being such a thief. He took a grape from the vine scoot over towards me with it in his mouth.

“No reward for your Grigor. You’ve stolen from me.” Tapping the grape for him to chew it then kissing my finger.

“You’re too much for me Chiara.” Falling back onto the ground as I laughed at him for a minute. I enjoy a little torture in my life.

“When am I going to see those sketches on Grigor? You promised me.” Looking down at him as he smirked at me. Forming my puppy eyes to have him get up from the grass and onto the blanket.

Joining him on the blanket as he opened his sketching bag. He pulled out the first sketch as it..oh..why am I not surprised that it’s a naked woman. But the details are remarkable. To the smallest details on the naked bodies to small beauty marks.

“Grigor..Grigor this is scandalous.” Chuckling as I went to the next is that Svenska? Now the cold was catching up as I felt him place his coat around my shoulder. This is one of the most comfortable coats I’ve worn.

“How on earth did you persuade Svenska to get naked for you?” Asking him as he started to rub the back of his head.

“Costed a gold necklace.” Mhmmm.

“So you’ve slept with other people besides George?”

“Of course not! Before George yes but as I told you, all it costed was a gold necklace.” Well normally I’m not one for degrading fellow women in this world. But at least my nipples aren’t bigger than apples. I kept going through his artwork to see more than naked women, there was one of a wild elk with such gigantic antlers! I’ve never seen one with such large antlers and a tiger?

“That was my old tiger. His name was Maxim and was a wonderful cat till he ripped the arm off my old nanny. Other than that he was a wonderful pet.”

“You would enjoy Africa and all the wildlife there Grigor. You would be able see a herd of zebras and the elephants. Watch those wonderful Lions attack these prey and even better. Witness a cheetah running full speed at an ostrich!” Then reality kicked in. He wouldn’t come to Africa to sketch some wild animals. Truth be told I have been beginning to enjoy our time together. Even before the wild sex.

“Tell me more about Trento.” He asked for me to raise my eyebrow. It’s not like he’s ever going to visit there in his life.

“Why must I always talk about myself. I feel as if it’s all about myself without even knowing much about you. I know you obviously but I get old talking about myself.” Telling him as I handed him back his sketches.

“Rijn Van Rembrandt. My father took me to St. Petersburg for some business. When I was there I snuck off from the boring meeting to see an exhibition happening. His work Bathseba at her bath was on display and I just stood there. My father eventually found me and that is when he bought me my first sketching papers and pencils.” Kissing him softly to show a little gratitude

“Thank you for sharing with me Grigor.” Another kiss for him to place his hands on my cheeks.

“My mother surprisingly did not enjoy the idea of me drawing. Said it would lead to bad habits and wanting to seek out what is bad for me.” He took the sketches from my hands for his hands to travel up my left leg.

“You’re not imagining your mother are you? Catherine told me that the Emperor thinks about his mother when he does the deed.” I started laughing because Grigor fell back onto the blanket and laughed.

“My mother sadly loved me and always looked out for me in the end. Not to mention she treated me like a human being instead of a diseased child.” My eyes widened at his statement to pop another grape into his mouth.

“You really don’t enjoy him do you?” At this point this is starting to lay the seeds of the coup into the mind of Peter's most trustworthy associate. I’m not saying that all this time has been going towards the coup. Because I’ve enjoyed the time we’ve been spending together with one another. Trust me. But I also came here to help Catherine with the coup. Just took a little break because someone’s cock is marvelous. Oh that was too much.

“He’s a good friend to say the most. We do enjoy hunting together, drinking, and partying.” Not going to bring up George of course since it’s not my place.

“Hmmm. Must be interesting to see someone like Peter rule a country when he’s such a loose canon.”

“Well that’s where I come in my dear. I’m sort of that force that blocks those too mad for the country ideas. He’s tried to establish that the ladies of the court walk around in only robes and their hats. I then told him about the mysert that women hold and that they need to stay mysterious.” Wow. Who’d know that Grigor had such an important role. I’m not saying that he’s not important but he’s the barrier from all the bad ideas. Not all of them but tries his best I’m assuming.

Though reality striked that Grigor will be staying in Russia once I finally head back to Italy. I think that if we continue this sort of love relationship that he would want to come to Italy but I highly doubt it’s going to happen. He has grown significantly a part of my life in such an intimate way that it’s a little hard to imagine that possibly within a few weeks I’ll be going home and leaving this troublesome country.

Yet deep down in that hardened soul he wouldn’t leave his wife for some foreign Duchess because his home his here, his future children will be here, and I will be Italy. Eventually there will be a time that I will have to get married to some other Duke or Prince who the hell knows at this point. Eventually I’ll have to get married and bring some sort of child into this world and continue on the cycle of life. At Least I’m completely aware of this fact and if he wants to come to Italy he can if not then all I lose is a lover.

SHIT! I HAVE A MEETING WITH CATHERINE TO DISCUSS SPEECHES AND ABOUT WINNING OVER MORE THAN JUST THE LADIES OF THE COURT!

“Grigor I am so sorry but I completely forgot Catherine and I are supposed to have tea very soon!” Grabbing my shirt to stand up and slip it onto my body. I then grabbed my pants to practically jump into them. I finished getting dressed to see Grigor and watched me from the blanket the entire time.

“My darling. Come to my chambers tonight and we shall finish this sketch, with a lot of wine and cheese.” Ordering him but in a very seductive matter. Though this may not last forever, I might as well enjoy the time in the present.

“Add some oranges please, and peaches.” My hands moved around to then place my hand right underneath his neck.

“And make sure those peaches are extremely juicy.” Telling him as my lips hovered over his but didn’t kiss.

“Is that understood?”

“Yes m’lady.” He shivered and gave him one extremely long kis to the point I gave his bottom lip a quick suck and bite. He moaned for a moment as I got up from the ground and my boot knife since I forgot to put it in my boot.

“Ciao Grigor!” Swaying my hips a little more to know that he was staring directly at my ass. He is starting to grow on me and these unknown feelings that have entered my core are rather nice. Though this will not be a cliche story of where I just ignore my feelings and take months on them. I’m a little smarter than that.

Making it inside the palace to see Count Orlo walking up the stairs with rolled up maps tucked in his arms. Catching up to him as he turned his head to shake it at me.

“You missed the meeting.” He commented as I sighed.

“My apologies. You going to slap me on the wrist for missing?”

“No. Just you’re here to help, not sleep with the enemy.”

“Think of it as a way for me to help get closer to the enemy. What did I miss?”

“Catherine is going with Elizabeth to the front in order to bring up the moral with the soldiers. It’s a good tactic to get the military on our side and then the church afterwards.” They looked up maps underneath his arm?

“Are those maps Orlo?” He motioned me into the empty room.

We walked over to the big table for him to plop down all the rolled up papers he had tucked underneath his arms. Going through them till he found the one he was looking for. Opening it up to then place random tabletop places. The entire war map was displayed before me as I noticed that a lot of the Sweds were winning this war.

“The Swedish have taken control of Sosnovyy Bor. An important port but not as important as Vyborg where we’re keeping them completely out of.” Taking a look to see how close Sosnovyy Bor was to St. Petersburg and it’s closer than I could’ve imagined. At any time they could easily invade St. Petersburg and we lose the war. Though it would be a good way so that Peter can be bethrowned but now can head into Moscow then to us. I’m going to avoid bloodshed in this battle.

“Orlo. How much has Catherine learned from this map?”

“She told me that she would get all the information she needed when arriving at the front.” Great.

“Orlo. Let me have this map and I’ll go through my studies to see if I can find a solution.” I think I have an idea.

“What are you planning?” Rolling up the map for myself then smiling.

“Making Catherine look like a genius.” Walking away from Orlo to then head to my chambers.

This..this might work.

*The Next Morning*

Since I missed the meeting because of lust and sketches. Catherine came up with a brilliant idea (not sarcastic at all I promise) that we would go to the front to see the soldiers and how the war is going. This is a good learning chance on my military tactics that I was more than happy to accompany her to the front.

Now I understand what she’s trying to do and I’m here to help with bringing up the soldiers moral! But at such Godless hours in the morning. And macaroons? Bring them a feast with warm meat and vegetables! Not sugary sweets! Who knows maybe it will. Catherine does know what she’s doing...most of the time. Not that she isn’t smart but soldiers prefer victories over sweets, but we won’t know till we get there.

My hand was resting on Grigor's bare chest for me to open my eyes. I’m meant to go with Catherine and Elizabeth to the front for some moral and aid. On our way there I plan on slipping a little advice under Catherines greatness. Sort of passing a note in order to get the War moving on.

Scooting over to place a soft kiss on his cheek for him to still be asleep. Fernanda came into the bedroom with my clothes for the ride. She looked at Grigor then making sure that she wasn’t too loud.

“Heavy sleeper. We’ll be fine.” Telling her as I lifted the nightgown off for her to hand me my white shirt. The corset was next for me as I looked over at Grigor who was still asleep. Hopefully this doesn’t wake him up. Placing the corset on my body as I stood straight up to wait for her to start tightening it.

“Holy shit!” Whispering as she pulled a little to the tight. I think my lungs are coming out of my throat! Another quick tight pull for her to tie it up for Grigor to still be asleep. I finished getting dressed and he was still asleep.

“I’ll be going to the front of Fernanda. Let him know whenever he wakes up that I’m not sure when I’ll get back.” Telling her as she nodded. She handed me my belt and sword for me to tighten it. Then finally my boot dagger for safety measures. If I’m going to be with a bunch of men then I’m going to stay safe. I do need something to do on the ride so why not a book. The Spirit of the Laws by Montesquieu, seems fitting.

Walking back over to Grigor's bed side to place a soft kiss on his forehead. This must’ve woken him since he grabbed my arm softly. Opening his eyes slightly for him to get up from the bed and rub his eyes.

“Good morning.” Telling him as he yawned.

“Good morning. Where are you off to?”

“I’m going to the front with Catherine and Elizabeth for the day.” Kissing his lips for him to nod then widened his eyes.

“To the front? You’re not even Russian! So why do you care about the war?” Though he does have a point since they’re not my men, not even my country.

“You do remember that I’m here for Catherine. Where she goes I must go, and if she is to go to the front then I must go to the front.” Telling him yet he was still confused about my reasoning.

“I’ll be just fine. You know that I’m more than capable of handling myself.”

“Let me kiss you for a few more minutes please.” He begged to pull me on top of him and smashed his lips against mine. Sitting in his lap for him to place kisses all over my neck and face. His lips are wonderful and extremely intoxicating. But as much as I would love him to undress me and ravish me, I have to get going for our trip.

“Grigor..Grigor stop…” Laughing for him to stop and look at me.

“Must you go?”

“Yes. I promise I’ll be back this evening and you can tell me about that new trick you’ve learned.”

“Which one?”

“The seated wheelbarrow I think is what you called it.” Climbing off him to stand up next to him.

“Ciao Grigor.” He took my hand to place a soft kiss for me to walk away. I could hear Catherine coming towards the door from the other side. Opening it to see her all dolled up in her appropriate attire.

“Good morning Chiara.” Bubbly and excited in a sense for the front.

“Good morning Catherine. You are more ready than ever I see.” Telling her as we began walking down the hall.

“I’m very excited to see the front. It should be a very important learning experience for me and should help with the coup tremendously.” She told me as I nodded.

“Have you been keeping up with the war?” Asking her for us to start walking down the stairs to the carriages.

“Not really. Velementov can give me an update on arrival.” He won’t have time. He’s too busy trying to win the war!

“But you have to go in with some sort of plan Catherine. Even you would have something like that of the sorts going into it.” Telling her as she stopped walking down the stairs to turn to face me.

“This isn’t a tactic. And I imagine you are unaware of what’s going on in the war just as much as I am.” I love her confidence but this sort of idea that he’ll just tell her his plans. I think Catherine needs to understand the true situation.

“The Sweds have taken control of Sosnovyy Bor and will make their way up the coast to invade St. Petersburg. If they keep Bor they’ll use it as a city to regather supplies, the man power, and then they head to Saint Petersburg. If Velementov gets his head together he can invade Bor easily and push them all the way back to Hanko. Then from Hanko to Mariehamm, take over that group of islands and then the Sweds are back into their country. The war is over and we win. Only problem is that the Sweds have an extremely strong hold Hanko which will require even..”

“Catherine! Oh and Chiara I am delighted that both of you will be joining me on this trip. It’s quite lonely when I make this journey. Come come.” Motioning for us to follow her.

We stood next to the carriage as two servants placed two boxes inside the carriage. I’m assuming those are the macaroons. Elizabeth was first to climb in, followed by me then finally Catherine. What a weird way to bring morale up but if the boots fit then the boot fits.

“Chiara you have such a unique way of living.” Elizabeth commented for the carriage to start moving.

“Thank you?”

“I’ve heard stories like you Chiara. Women who go above the normal parts of society, always leads to such tragic deaths in the end. Poor Joan of Arc was burned at the steak, Artemisia of Caria who jumped from a tall rock in Leucas Greece.” I ummm. I don’t plan on leaping from a rock for the love of my life, and The Catholic church won’t burn me for heresy.

“No matter. Just know that it’s an exciting time to get to know you. For someone who only fucks one person you’re stronger than most.” Oh my god what is happening!?

I must say that Aunt Elizabeth is an interesting sort of woman who I think is as mad as a dog but smarter than most people realize. I believe that she uses her own sexuality to her advantage and sort of does what’s best for Peter. Which is understandable for she is his aunt. But there’s more to her than she’s letting on.

But to the front!

“It is nivering.” Elizabeth was messing with her cape as I was looking outside into the forest. Even though the Emperor is a sack of shit the landscape is gorgeous.

“A bit. But I’m glad you’ve allowed us to come with you on this experience.” I’m glad but I’m just exhausted.

“Oh I enjoy both of your company. You Catherine laugh at my jokes and you Chiara with your wit and spiteful tongue.” I wouldn’t call it spiteful. Maybe?

“Not to mention Catherines tales of German childhood are whimsical, and make me wish I knew what a kugelhopf was.” It’s a cake. Right?

“It is just a cake.” That’s what I thought. It’s a sort of cake that has raisins, fresh oranges, or lemons, and almonds. Mostly served at breakfast time if I remember correctly. They talked for a few moments till the mood changed within the carriage. Elizabeth sighed as she looked out the window.

“You should prepare yourself for a little unpleasantness on arrival.” It’s the front. I’m not exactly expecting a picnic on arrival.

“Yes. Of course.”

“So tell me then Elizabeth. What exactly is the attitude of the Russian army?” She looked at me with a small devilish smile.

“That we will not stop until every last Swedish soldier is dead. That is the attitude of the Russian army.” Leaning in closer to her as I was doubting that answer. On paper yes that would be the attitude, in the history books yes.

“Elizabeth. What is the..” The carriage stopped before I could finish asking her my question. I get that she understood what I was asking in the first place yet she has to put on a brave face to get ready for the front.

The carriage door opened for the smell of blood, vomit, gunpowder, and so much more to come swerling into the carriage. This is what war smells of. Blood and powder. I’m for certain that my great great Grandfather Sir Fabrizio would be proud of me finally experiencing some war. Even if it is just chatting with the Generals. Maybe throw in a few strategies I’ve studied through my entire life.

Catherine was the first one out as I noticed she was in a little star struck and blocking the door. Quickly moving for Elizabeth to come out and then followed by me. My boots sunk into the mud a little as it looked like a horrid place. War is horrid just remember this Chiara.

So many injured..so many dead. How can The Emperor who has been losing non stop allow this much carnage? The amount of lost lives alone, though war is war but you have to be aware when you’re on the losing side! Even I know that much! Wait Chiara. This is war and these men know that they might do for their country, for war is unavoidable.

“Ladies!” We turned our heads to see Velementov and his aids coming out of his tents.

“Empresses and Duchess. How wonderful that you’ve come. You are an inspiration to us all.” Diamonds in the rough are exactly what I would call us at this moment.

“Would you care for a macaroon? We’ve brought 300 for the men.” Ah yes. The Macaroons in order to bring up the moral of war.

“Do you mind if I take a couple?” He shoved two into his mouth and then a few into his pockets. Even I must say when I get back I’m going to stuff my face with panettones and delicious pastas.

“Please. Follow me.” Velementov instructed with his mouth full of food. Catherine looked absolutely disgusted and almost green before my eyes.

“What is that smell?”

“Bodies, mud, horse shit, smoke of cannons. It is not a place for women.” I feel offended. Joan of Arc and Khutulun were on the battlefield fighting alongside the men. Maybe not as much of the gunpowder and cannons but definitely the smell of blood and horse shit.

“If it is a place where Russian men die, then it is a place for us.” Elizabeth responded to Velementov’s statement.

“How is the war progressing General?” Asking Velementov for him to sigh a little.

“We have received some setbacks.” Some?

“But what the peevish Swede entirely lacks is our ferocious Russian fighting spirit. That in the end, always guarantees victory.” I think the Mangolians thought of that once but they successfully invaded Russia.

“So we’re losing?” Catherine and I asked and could immediately tell Elizabeth was burnt.

“Catherine! Chiara! Focus on the men. And only victory. They need hope.” Not my men. My men are in their warm beds with their family not fighting some war in order to prove that you’re just as good as your own father. Too soon? I watched as Catherine and Elizabeth began to pass around Macaroons to the men and put on a brave face. Bread and meat would be much better than macaroons but I understand the reasoning behind it.

“I’m told you’re prepared to pose for a battle painting.” A battle painting?

“Yes indeed General. Whatever will help fire the men’s morale.” A painting? Really?

“A grand victorious painting of the two of you is sure to do just that.” A painting!? So that the men could have a little time for themselves? Never!

“Tell me Velementov. What is your strategy exactly? From what I’ve read it’s been nothing but full head on attacks.” Stating as he took a macaroon from his pocket.

“The Emperor has ordered us to keep full on head attacks to the Sweds.” Catherine and Elizabeth were getting themselves ready for the war painting for me to start thinking about the strategies that have been taught to me from past Knights of my family.

“Velementov. I assume you’re away from the Norman Conquest of England in 1066?” Asking as I motioned for his aid to pull out a map.

“Williams' army contained 2,000 cavalrymen and 5,000 infantrymen with crossbows, bows, and swords. Williams only option was for a frontal assault in order to invade. After a no so frontal assault, William personally led a cavalry charge but was turned back by the Saxon defenses and the horrible weather of England. He was then defeated. Not to mention rumors of Williams death began going around, which we all know was a lie because he was seen alive, rallied his troops and renewed the assault. He ordered his soldiers to fire at a much higher angle instead of directly into the army in order to break their defense.” He looked annoyed as the map was opened for me to look at where exactly the war was going on.

“I don’t need a lecture on past military tactics. I might be a dishonorable general but not a moron.” That’s not what I’m trying to do exactly.

“That’s not what I’m trying to do Velementov. I know that the Sweds are held up in Sosnovyy Bor and from a reliable source that they might head into St. Petersburg.” Looking at a much bigger map to see that the Sweds had locked down Sosnovyy Bor.

“If you do not take Sosnovyy Bor back from the Sweds then you loose Saint Petersburg and then you might as well wave the white flag of war.” He knows and is aware of this. I think that the Emporer is too busy making stupid ideas and jokes that he doesn’t know that the Sweds are literally at his doorstep.

“What I’m saying is that you rain in from all different angles. You block them by the sea and by land to rain down on very different angles. There is only one road that the Sweds can use in order to escape and that’s an easy blockade to form as well. Attacking your own city may not be the best idea, but you save St. Petersburg from those damn Sweds. You then push them back to Hanko to surround them there.”

“You are a rare flower..a flower that blooms in the middle of a battlefield full of dead soldiers.” Velementov commented for me nod.

“One must have an understanding of war if one is to lead. Atleast I get the chance to actually understand tactics.”

“Whenever I am back at the palace. I might call upon you for more advice on war.” Picking my hand up to kiss it. Yeah this won’t be happening in a lifetime and even if he was the last man on earth I still wouldn’t sleep with him.

The carriage ride was dead silent before me. I could tell both Catherine and Elizabeth were beside themselves on having to stand on top of dead soldiers for a portrait. While I on the other hand feel extremely successful for sort of conducting my own first military tactic. Hopefully they can take back Bor and all will be settled.

“Stop!” Elizabeth ordered to bang her cane on the top of the carriage. We stopped as I looked up from my book.

Elizabeth climbed out of the carriage to stand in the middle of the forest. She began to hollar, kick, and looking like she was going to rip her own hair out of her body. That’s one way to deal with your problems and no wonder she’s kept herself sane. We looked at each other for me to wonder what that was about. Then back out to the window for a little more screaming. Only seconds later she gathered herself back together as Catherine and I watched her climb back into the carriage and place her poker face on to us. Catherine’s mood changed from tears into anger.

“Are you alright?” Asking both of them but definitely towards Elizabeth.

“Of course. Whatever it was is floating on the wind now. Do you need to? Both of you? We can stop.” Though I do feel the pain of these men. This is not my country and hasn’t affected my day to day life when I return home to Italy. This was only meant to wager Catherine in good favor.

“I need to scream. But not into the air, but at the world for allowing this to happen.”

“War is inevitable, since cavemen smashed each other’s faces in for control of the fire stick.”

“It cannot be. It is a choice.”

“Things that are built in our nature are not choices.”

“Such as our human need to seek companionship.” Commenting to look back down into my book. A macaroon sounds delicious. If a bunch of soldiers can have a macaroon then don’t mind if I do. Opening the box to grab a pink and blue macaroon to pop the pink one in my mouth.

I’m hungry. There’s no need to think that I’m some heartless woman because that is not the case. War is inevitable such as Elizabeth stated and there is no such thing as a permanent peaceful society. Eventually that society must go through blood in order to keep that peace. Both Elizabeth and Catherine watched me eat the blue one as if it was a crime.

“Can’t decide if I can stomach a macaroon or not.” Catherine took the blue box from the ground to then chuck it directly out of the carriage into the forest. There’s no need to waste macaroons, and these were delicious.

“FUCK!” She screamed for me to close my book and place it next to me.

“There you go. Let it out.”

“We have to object to this. We cannot subject men to this nightmare, their lives and hopes extinguished. Russia cannot continue on this path.”

“We will prevail.”

“At what cost?”

“Well, that is the trick to it. Knowing when the cost is still bearable and when it has tipped too far.” Though it is a certain matter that is meant to happen, eventually there is a time to call it quits. Unless you’re the Christians and Muslims and think it’s a great idea to have a war that lasts 780 years.

“That seemed too far.”

“I’ve seen worse. But I admire your heart and fire.”

“I am scorched by that, certainly and will not forget it.”

“What?”

“I hoped it would happen. You are becoming a Russian.”

I think Catherine and I need to have a long talk on ruling an Empire. War is inevitable, war is not a one time deal that goes away after a few days. It is only the continuance of politics but not solved in the halls until it’s too late.

Taglist: 

@mirkwoodshewolf @bonafiderocketqueen @johndeaconshands

@jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels @amethyst-serenade @radio-ha-ha @i-have-a-wonky-eye-too @deck-heart @actuallyanita  @the-baby-bookworm @ewanmcgregors​ @panagiasikelia​

[croctears]

a part two to this maybe? dk, again this is unedited and i’m trying my hand at a more flowery language. hopefully it isn’t too flowery lolol.

the cultural terms are further explained at the bottom.

Envy, with its tendrils green with jealousy, wraps itself snug around our little beating heart. Yet we continue to let it consume us, basking and boasting in the covetous desires. And again, do we have the capacity to ingest the wants of the human soul?

“They’re so pretty!”

Cherry blossom petals frolicked to the lilt of the wind in merry pink blushes, kissing the tips of her fingers. They slipped by cheekily, never getting caught, leaving only the tickle of velvet left as the aftertaste. Hsien-Chen sighed. It was the first spring since they moved to the capital; the flowers here are different from the ones in the countryside.

Her little sister ran ahead, giggling in glee. Two small buns sat atop her head, thin hair pulled tightly in a clean, smooth updo. The smile stretching across her face was far wider than any of Hsien-Chen’s when she was that age—not that she could remember ever being this carefree. After one fateful meeting with a messenger of Death ( her mother sobbed over her for days, thanking the Heavens and Yánluówáng for being merciful and not taking her daughter away), Hsien-Chen became a silent child.

According to Mama, she’d met Heibai Wuchang, more specifically the white counterpart of the duo; Xiè Bì'ān, the White Guard.

“No, you’re mistaken,” Her mother had shaken her head, frowning at Hsien-Chen’s recounting of the event. “That’s not a woman, and you’re lucky you didn’t meet Fàn Wújiù instead.”

Was she supposed to be grateful? Grateful that the White Guard, Xie, had taught her to make amends and become a better version of whoever she was going to grow up as?

She should be thankful for an opportunity many hadn't had the chance to get.

But why is it still so difficult to be angelic?

Round and round it goes, slippery and thick—soft as the finest silk in China, lithe as the strings of guzheng. Round and round envy goes, around the souls of men. Do we not notice it, or do we take no notice of it?

Hsien-Chen swallowed a lump of saliva lodging in the ridges of her throat. Her hands shook, palms sticky with sweat. Tucking the piece of parchment into the elaborated pieces of her robes, she hurried across the study room, sock-covered feet making no noise against the smooth wooden paneling.

She couldn’t believe she was going to cheat.

On a national exam, no less.

Pinpricks of moisture dotted her forehead, satin clothes sticking to her underarms. Hsien-Chen shook her head firmly.

No, it’s not her fault she’s always second to that Luo family’s brat. They are better off than her parents, providing him with more possibilities and renowned tutors when she only had herself to depend on. Was it wrong to sneak in answers she already read through? It was merely referencing.

Tighter and tighter, over the limbs and minds. Tighter and tighter envy’s fingers gripped our souls, dragging down, down, down. Tight was the constraints, yet our eyes were still clouded with discontent.

“Did you hear? The daughter of the Wang family had four wedding proposals today! One of them is a son of a businessman.” Hsien-Chen’s companion exhaled dreamily. “She’s beautiful, it’s no wonder!”

Hsien-Chen snorted, wringing her arm out of her friend’s hold.

“She’s your neighbour, isn’t she? The Wangs’ young miss.” Her friend asked. An innocent question that made her blood boil to a degree she never knew was possible.

Oh, how Hsien-Chen hated that girl next door. Always adorned with bracelets, necklaces. On her dainty feet always a pair of expensive embroidered shoes, no less than a noblewoman’s. And as if her being spoiled wasn’t enough, the girl was born with such elegant features, big brown eyes, small upturned nose with pink lips.

Oh, how Hsien-Chen hated her. They’re the same age, but Wang Jing appeared to be on a whole other level. And she knew, no matter how hard she tries, she’ll never reach that league. Her chest tightened, breaths coming in short angry heaves.

“She’s fooling around with their gardener’s son.” Hsien-Chen blurted without thinking. Whether it was true or not was up to the discernment of those who heard.

“What?”  A handkerchief covered her friend’s face, widened eyes barely containing the disgust and excitement at the unexpected news. “That’s so wrong! Such a disgrace. Don’t you think people should know about this?”

Hsien-Chen shrugged. “Do what you will.”

Deeper and deeper envy hauls men, smooth and gracious through the waves. Deeper and deeper our beings go, into the sea of envy’s poison. Can we swim, or are we nonchalant with our foreboding demise?

“I wish I never had you!” Hsien-Chen screamed, clutching her head. Hysterics enveloped her, lashing out at the crying boy. Her son. Her older daughter held him protectively, hand rubbing furiously at her tear-streaked face.

A raised hand. A sharp smack. The boy wailed, clutching his red face.

“Mama, stop!”

“You too! I hope you die along with your good-for-nothing father!”

The vase broke, shards flying as Hsien-Chen swept more decorations off the shelves. Her children cried louder and louder and—

“Stop crying! I’m leaving. I’m leaving! I deserve better than this life!” 

The slam of the door silenced the young ones for a moment and Hsien-Chen could feel the cogs of her brain turning again. Children were noisy, or her children were noisy. Lan’s kids were docile beings, same goes for Yi’s twin boys. Filial, gentle souls, unlike hers.

How she despised her children, her simpleton husband.

How she despised her life.

The back room was serene enough for her to collect her thoughts, a tired groan escaping her chapped lips as she sank down to the dusty floor.

Despair. That was the word for what she was feeling.

Despair, resentment, bitterness.

Envy.

“I’m better off dead.”

“Sure you are.”

“Who are you?” She whipped around in shock, clutching her heart. In front of her was a man, young and tall. He had an air of masculine handsomeness, the kind you normally feel around young warriors or generals. An austere smile danced on his thin lips, bulging biceps placing down a heavy-looking mirror in front of her.

“Who are you?” She repeated.

“I believe a mirror was supposed to be delivered here.”

“I believe not.” Hsien-Chen crossed her arms, shooting him her best scowl.

“Are you sure?”

He pulled the cloth off, and the mirror. The mirror was…

The mirror was the exact same one. The one she saw in the storeroom of the old couple her mother worked for. The same mirror Xiè Bì'ān showed her future.

“No,” Hsien-Chen shuddered, backing away from him. “Is this a joke to you?”

“You’ve met my partner, I believe. Xiè Bì'ān.” The man was grim, unsmiling. “I too should believe you know who I am.”

“Fàn Wújiù?” It came out a frightened squeak, quivering with dense fear.

“My partner has a kind soul. Me? Not so much.” The Black Guard of the Heibai Wuchang muttered. “He did warn you many years ago. That was your chance.”

Hsien-Chen fell to her knees. “But my family…”

He laughed scornfully. “Weren’t you wishing they were dead a few minutes ago?”

“Please sir! Please just—,” Hsien-Chen felt tongue-tied. What was she even begging for? A second shot at life? She already knew an opportunity like that, an opportunity many hadn’t had a chance to get would be better off not given to her.

She’d already wasted the first one.

“Is your- is your friend here?”

The Black Guard was stern, but nodded. “Outside.”

And true enough, the White Guard was standing there, hands behind his back. He had seemed like a woman to five-year-old Hsien-Chen, but now, she saw clearly he was a man. Albeit slender with delicate features, his elegant stance was somber once he spotted her.

Hsien-Chen was mildly surprised that he was taller than the other guard.

“It’s your time now child.”

“I know.” Hsien-Chen wrung her hands nervously. “I think I just want to say I’m sorry.”

“For?”

“For wasting your time. You could’ve gone to another child. Maybe they’d listen to you.”

Xiè Bì'ān brushed back his hair. “It was fate. There’s nothing to be done now. Don’t fret.”

Her lips parted, then she closed it again. She could see Manchurian cranes against the orange-daubed skies, fishermen’s songs loud enough for her to hear.

Her husband must be coming home any moment now.

“What would I be if I had listened to you then?” She turned to face the white-clad man, but he refused to answer.

“You have to come now.”

“I guess we are arresting you right now.” Fàn Wújiù nodded to his partner.

Hsien-Chen stretched out her hand, hoping to feel the plush texture of the cherry blossom once more.

“I guess this is it.”

So indeed, the waves roll, swallowing the cries of regret and frantic yelps of realisation. For it is too late if we notice at the brink of death, now may we rest well in the icy comfort of envy’s clasp.

first off, this story takes place during the qing dynasty, after the imperial examinations were passed for women.

 i'm personally not taoist, but had derived lots of taoist myths as inspiration! partly bc i'd grown up listening to these stories (: i hope you learn a thing or two about Chinese culture, though my version in this story is definitely tweaked. 

 Heibai Wuchang is "Black and White Impermanence" literally, and are deities in Chinese folk religion that escorts souls to the underworld. grim reaper, if you may. the white counterpart is Xie Bi'an while the black counterpart is Fan Wujiu. 

 as for Yánluówáng, he's the king of the taoist underworld. the mirror that is referenced in my previous story, Mirror of Retribution is a mirror used by the Yánluówáng to judge dead souls when dealing out punishments.

[seulgiology]

when you smile | bae joohyun

pairings: wife!irene x wife!female reader

words: 1.1k

genre: a lil angsty fluff

synopsis: “hello! I am craving some massive fluff so can I request a wedding day scenario with irene? Her being nervous and the girls having to calm her down and all that shit? Thanks in advance if you do it <3” ~ request

warnings: cursing, mentions of sex, crying, nervousness, overall a kinda angsty situation 

a/n: yer yer , admin 1 here :3 this is what the dress looks like, scroll on the website to see more references. hey guys, admin 2 is gonna be a lil inactive probably cause she’s working on pink ferrari !

disclaimer: This is a work of fiction from our imagination. It is not intended that the plot, theme, original characters, idols, etc. portray any real-life events/people. Plagiarism is NOT tolerated on this blog. If you believe we have copied an existing authors’ work, please message us privately. Thank you and enjoy :)

—

She gulped down the heavy lump in her throat, trying to stay still as the makeup artist added the sheen champagne-colored eyeshadow.

Her favorite BoA songs were playing in the background. But the only thing playing in her head was the intrusive thoughts she wishes she didn’t have.

Not on her wedding day.

“Irene, I finally found it! You wouldn’t believe who had it.” The perky sound of her bandmate, Sooyoung, could be heard as she stepped inside the cosmetics room.

She looked beautiful in her beige-colored bridesmaid dress. The bride gave her a tight-lipped smile and moved her newly styled hair out of the way so the piece of jewelry could be clasped around her neck.

Sooyoung took a step back and sighed a satisfied sigh. The choker-like necklace had white pearls as the straps with a sparkly pendant situated at the center, giving the perfect vintage look.

But a frown quickly overtook her features as a distressed and troubled look overcame her friend's delicate face.

The bridesmaid gently reached down and squatted face-to-face with the older woman she’s been working with for several years.  Making eye contact with the other, she tried to silence the hiccups that made their way up.

“Joohyun-Unnie, it’s ok to be scared.”

Those were the things she needed to hear for her to begin sniffling.

Someone signaled for everyone to leave the room, leaving only three other women to stay behind.

The rest of her beloved and gorgeous members crowded around to check on their leader. Their youngest brought her up and sat her down in the comfortable chaise towards the back of the room, continuing holding her hand even after they sat down.

“I just- I can’t even describe the love I have for that girl. And there’s nothing more I want then to be with her for the rest of my hectic life.” She started, looking up towards the ceiling to try not to let her tears ruin the quality makeup the artists worked on.

She gave a watery hiccuped that shook her body, thinking about the shit that her wife is going to have to go through. She felt herself being pulled into a group hug by her other members, comforting words being gifted to her in the best way possible.

“The media hates her, my family but my dad disapproves approves of our relationship. I don’t want to put her through it anymore.” The uncontrollable tears began to free fall, the pressure of her love-life taking a toll.

“Joohyun, look at me,” The most stable of all, Seulgi, softly held her chin and tilted it towards her direction.

She was a sight to behold as the tears streaked her face and a hopeless looked shined in her tears eyes.

“Why do you think you’re here right now, honey? That’s because Y/N wants to be with you. She’s willing to face the backlash, the hate, the sacrifices with you.” The whispered words crept in her mind, slowly overlaying her doubts.

She let the words of comfort creep their way through her being, knowing the words being preached to her were right.

“Yeah, and, ReVeluv’s are all for it. The GP might love a controversy here and there, but that’s not what matters right now. What matters is that you’re getting pussy for the rest of your life.” Yerim commented, a humorous smile adorning her face.

Even that one.

“You can always count on Yerim to say some bullshit like that,” Their main vocalist stated as she lightly bumped the youngest.

As she laughed, the tears dried on her cheeks. One of the few genuine smiles she pulled today.

“Ah, there’s that pretty smile. Why were you hiding it for so long huh?” Sooyoung said snapping a quick picture of the candid moment.

The stars couldn’t have aligned for anybody but the five of them to meet as one. — The delicate ivory tulle dress hung loosely on Irene’s body. It’s elegant flow and puffy sleeves design made her feel like a fairy in an enchanted forest.

The people attending to her makeup and hair weren’t as upset and quickly touched it up before she was fitted in her gown.

She took a deep breath, holding tightly onto her father's arm and the peony bouquet in her other arm.

“I’m happy for you, Joohyun-Ah. Let’s hope this marriage isn’t another strict contract.” He jestered playfully.

“You’re really funny you know that?” They chuckled lightly together.

“Don’t forget to smile, okay?”

She never got the chance to smile as the big and ominous doors awaited her destiny.

And there you were, watching the love of your eternity gliding down the aisle like the angel she is. The way the light caught her dress made her look absolutely heavenly. Your cheeks hurt, and your heart burned with an undying love for the woman coming towards you.

She lightly bowed towards her comrades that worked with her. One of her long time friends, Johnny, and his group gave you thumbs up and discreet finger hearts.

When she finally stood in front of you, you really couldn’t breathe. You didn’t believe in that cheesy phrase “as time stood still,” but shit, you wish it did.

Neither of you was the religious type, so instead of a priest speaking, you kindly asked her esteemed friend, Jennie, to do the honors.

It was a hilarious mess when the poor young woman called for any objections, and all of her bandmates declared they loved her first.

“YOU’LL ALWAYS BE OUR PERFECT 10 IRENE!”

If that didn’t make her want to cry of happiness and joy even more, then the end of your vows would surely leave her a sobbing mess.

“I pledge to remain your companion and friend, I promise to be with you always, to care for you, and to love you no matter how far apart we may be. I will always show an interest in the things you do and your ideas. I will be with you in your heart, and keep you safely in mine. When you are happy, I will be happy with you. When you are sad, I will make you smile. I swear it on my soul it’s so beautiful when you smile,”

Her hands tightened in yours as she held back sobs and tried to keep her composure.

“I will encourage you to continue growing as an individual as we work toward our mutual goals. Things are hard right now, but we'll get through this together. It's okay to step back and breathe. I stand with you as your best friend and wife and acknowledge that your choices are valid ones. I promise to give you love, honesty, trust, and commitment, and, in general, keep your life more interesting and chaotic than NCT 127s music, as we grow old and beyond. I love you, Joohyun.”

She trembled in the overwhelming feeling of yearning as she looked into your intense eyes. All she can see is promise and unconditional love.

“You know I love you more, Y/N.”

With the seal of a delicate kiss of plush lips pressed against each other and arms pulling her in tight, dress against dress, she knew she could overcome anything with you by her side.

[captnbarnesrogers]

Underworld, Over You

Pairing/Characters: Demon!Harry Styles x Reader Warnings: we like angsty harry in this household oop Summary: You left Harry six months ago after he asked you to follow him back to the Underworld but you couldn’t, in fact, give everything up for him. WC: 1.4k+ A/N: my first demon harry fic ever, I know it suxx okey????

All he could do was look over at you. You were laughing. He wondered what the bastard was saying, how was he making you laugh like that. Harry wanted nothing but to go up to your table and rip this fucker’s heart out. Of course, he could do it but he chose not to. There was light glimmering inside your eyes, something he only ever saw when you were both together. It was very rare for Harry to see that in people, it’s usually the shallow despair and need for the impossible that he sees. Unfortunately, that glimmer of light faded the last time you both talked.

6 MONTHS AGO

“Come home with me.” He asks, half asleep with his hand gently trailing up and down your arm.

“We’re already in your home.” You groggily state. Your hand giving light scratches on his chest. You liked having moments like this. A day off, if you will, where Harry didn’t have to take care of business, where you could both just take a second to breathe each other in. It was hard to love Harry at the start, he didn’t want to be loved but eventually he realised that it wouldn’t be so bad to fall in love with someone like you.

“I mean, back to m’world, pet.” You suddenly propped up from your spot, surprised by this request.

“Like, back to the Underworld?” He nodded and placed a kiss on your hand. When you first found out about him and who he was, you were scared and shocked. The man you loved dearly and protected you with every being he had (or had left), was a lowborn demon of the Underworld, “Harry, you know that place isn’t for humans like me.”

“I could make it so.”

“You’d have to kill me, Harry!” You sat up and looked at him intently. Your heart was beating so fast but missing beats left, right, and centre.

“Yeh wouldn’t have to die,” he paused for a moment, “painfully or entirely.”

“Jesu-”

“Watch your mouth, sweetheart.” He sits up and fold his arms like a little boy who didn’t get what he wanted.

“Sorry, I just- Harry, we’re talking about ending my life and leaving everyone and everything I know behind.”

“I could jus’ take yeh soul-”

“You’re making me a non-human! You’re making me cold a-a-and spiritless, what if I fall out of love with you, huh? What am I gonna do? What are you gonna do?” He rolls his eyes at you. A sweet moment, now turned sour.

“It’ll take one second an’ we can be together forever.”

“You’re being selfish, Harry, you’re asking me to leave everyone and everything I know behind, for you.”

“Yeh don’t wanna be with me?” You rushed over and caressed his cheek, giving him a kiss on the lips.

“I do, baby, I do but I just can’t… I can’t leave everything behind.”

“Fine, jus’ leave me, then.” He huffed angrily, his temper getting the best of him.

“Harry…”

“Yeh don’t love me, I get it, we’re done.” He pushed himself out of bed and next thing you knew he had disappeared without a trace.

Now, all he could do was watch you as he drank some expensive scotch neater than the cleanest street in the world. Every sip he took became more bitter the more he looked over at your wide smile. It’s like every sound that emitted from your mouth was a needle going into his body – slow and painful. He saw you stand up from your seat and the man in front of you nodded. You walked over to the bar and you noticed a shift in temperature. Ignoring it, you ordered drinks for yourself and your friend.

“Is this how he treats women? You have to get him a drink?” You heard beside you, giving you a fright.

“What are you? Stalking me now?” He took a sip from his glass and rolled his eyes.

“How long have you been seeing him?” You scoffed and laughed, taking the glasses from the bar top.

“Why do you care?”

“I don’t, I’m just wondering why you’re getting over us so fast.” You wanted to throw your drink at him. You wanted to scream at him. Instead, tears welled up in your eyes.

“You think this is me getting over us, you fucking psycho?” You whisper-screamed, “I’m far from it, Harry, far, far, from it.”

“You don’t need to lie to me.”

“You’re such a lousy demon, you know that?” His eyes were getting dark, “My friend is adopting with his husband.” You walked away, tears still in your eyes.

Demons, in fiction, don’t cry. It was a known fact. Demons are to be heartless and cold. But at this very moment, Harry defined all odds. His odds. Warm droplets came from his eyes. His darkened, soulless eyes – he wiped it away, he looked at his hand and a red streak was left over. Blood, he figured. He couldn’t believe it. He didn’t know any other demon that did this – cry blood, or cry at all.

He disappeared from the bar and there you stayed until you could barely walk. Your friend had left hours ago. The bartenders hadn’t noticed how drunk you were until you stood up from your seat and fell down almost immediately. They had led you outside and called you a cab. There on the street you stood, drunk and upset. The cab still hadn’t come so you decided to start walking. With drunken movements, you gripped your bag tightly and walked.

“You shouldn’t walk by yourself, pet.” You only knew one person who called you that.

“What is up with you and bugging me tonight, Harry?”

“Jus’ wanted to see you.” You laughed drunkenly.

“Do demons have a different aftermath of break ups? Because us humans usually don’t want to see people we’ve broken up with.” He held on to you to help steady your walking, “I mean, you didn’t even officially break up with me, you just left and didn’t speak to me for six months and now, here you are.” You stopped walking and turned to him. You noticed the streaks of colour under his eyes. You couldn’t tell what colour it was from how drunk you were. If tears could have colour, these marks on his face could be tear stains. You trailed your finger across the markings, “Have you been crying, Harry?”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Y/N.”

“Is it so ridiculous to think that you actually have a soul?” You shook your head and laughed. Continuing your walk, “Of course, it’s ridiculous, it’s even silly to think you ever truly loved me.” A punch in the heart, that’s what it felt like to hear those words come out of your mouth, “I mean, a demon, out of every guy I have ever dated, I fell in love with someone who doesn’t even feel love.”

“How do you know that?”

“You wouldn’t have left me in the shits wondering if you were ever coming back or if you loved me at all.” You arrived at your doorstep.

“I didn’t ask you to come back with me for nothing, sweets.”

“But could you understand what I was leaving behind? My whole life I worked for it, my job, my family, my friends… I couldn’t just up and leave when you wanted to but I fucking love you Harry, I still do.” He couldn’t stop thinking of what could’ve happened six months from then if he’d just understood it from your perspective.

“Sweetheart…”

“I keep thinking, if I said yes, I’d still have you, right? But I’d lose everything else.” You began to cry, Tears flowing from your eyes, “I want you in my life, Harry, and I know you can never fully-” Suddenly, he had cut you off with a kiss.

“I was mad, I didn’t see it how you saw it an’ I was so disappointed in myself, I couldn’t do it to yeh.” He sighed and held your face in his hands, “The truth is Y/N, I love yeh so much, so fuckin’ much.”

“What about-”

“I’d rather have yeh than not at all.” He pulled your face closer to his. He looked into your eyes and down at your lips, licking his lips, he leans down and kisses you passionately.

At this moment, Harry, who was tough and cold, was vulnerable and filled with warmth. He wanted nothing but you. To keep you happy and love you until he let go of his last breath.

---

@narcistyles​ @iloveshawnieboi​

[athenagc94]

This One Time in Atara - First Meetings

Me? Not writing a story where I live out my dream to romance Gust? Never. But it’s true. Here’s a story about how Albert and Gust first met in Atara. I plan on writing more stories of their shenanigans in Atara while they were younger (as they come to me). So please enjoy! 

I’ll also post them here in AO3: This One Time in Atara

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Oh and this one time back in Atara,” Albert managed around a boisterous laugh, “Gust convinced the local Civil Corps members doing their rounds to join us for a game of darts. We made a little competition out of it to see who could wrack up the most points.” He took a sip of his hard soda and stifled another chuckle. “Well, we just about won the clothes off their backs. Though that might have been Gust’s goal from the get go. The one with the wing tattoo across his right shoulder was quite the looker. I think you got his number in the end, didn’t you?”

He winked at Gust as he pulled Sonia a little closer into the crook of his arm and planted a kiss on her cheek, then on her mouth. Gust grimaced at the overt display of affection. Did he have no shame? He turned away from them and traced the intricate basket weave pattern of the Round Table’s wallpaper. Beside him, Piper squeezed his hand sympathetically. It was only a minor consolation considering their present company.

Albert continued in blissful ignorance, “That was shortly after we met, wasn’t it?”

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard the story of how you two met,” Piper said as she took a sip of her red tea.

“Is it a good one?” Sonia added as she twirled a strand of dark hair around her finger.

Gust rolled his eyes. “That depends on your definition of a good story.” He ran his thumb back and forth over the bridge of her knuckles. How did Piper convince him to go on a double date with these two again? They were practically on top of each other and right in front of him and his dinner. “It’s rather depraved if you ask me.” He cut the man across from him with a pointed glare. “Much like Albert and his effect on women.”

Albert gave him a wounded look. “Low blow, I think it’s a pretty great story,” he said, “Gust here really helped me out of a tight spot. How could I not want to be best mates with him after what happened.”

Piper arched an eyebrow at Gust. “It’s not that spectacular,” he insisted with a languid swipe of his free hand, “Albert was being a fool and I didn’t want to get caught up in his shenanigans. That’s all. End of story.”

Piper snorted and pressed a kiss to the back of his hand. He ducked his head to hide the heat burning at his cheeks. She turned back to Albert and said, “Well, now I have to know. What did he do?”

“Well,” Albert said as he shifted forward in his seat. A feline smile curved his lips that made Gust’s skin crawl. “All good stories start with a pretty...”

“It started with a sketch.”

All eyes turned to Gust in surprise. Even he was mildly surprised by his interjection. He planned to sit back and roll his eyes at Albert’s dramatic retelling, like he usually did, but a small part of him hated his side of the story. The last thing he wanted was to subject Piper to his bullshit. He cleared his throat and took a sip of his vodka and apricot juice.

“It started with a sketch,” he said a little more firmly, “and a bad case of creative block…”

☼☼☼☼☼☼

Gust settled back in his seat and regarded the sketch in front of him. He spent the last two hours outlining a simple two-story structure with crow stepped gables. He had yet to settle on where he wanted to place the windows. Should he go with a symmetrical design? Or make things interesting and only include windows on one side of the building? Which would Vera choose? He nibbled thoughtfully on the end of his pencil as he traced and retraced the lines with his eyes.

The answer was simple, wasn’t it? She’d say his design was shit and tear it in half.

So, he did just that. He ripped the sheet off his drafting table and tore it right down the middle. The shreds of paper landed at his feet, joining the rest of his discarded designs. He growled and combed his fingers irritably through his hair. Shit. All his designs were absolute shit. He knew it. Vera knew it. Everyone knew how much of a failure he was. At this rate, he’d never become one of the great architects of his time.

Maybe he should cut his losses and go home with his tail between his legs.

He wrinkled his nose at the prospect. He would never stoop so low. Portia was in the past and he wanted to move forward. He refused to go back and waste away in that backwater town. He would make it as a great architect, even if it killed him. Vera took him on as an apprentice despite the fact that he had a personality blander than stale bread dipped in water ー her words not his. So, she had to have seen some potential in him, right?

He huffed and reached for the sketchbook. He just had to keep working at it. He wouldn’t give up, not until his dreams became a reality. He’d show everyone. He flipped to a blank page and began outlining a new design. He only got a few short strokes in before ripping it out and tossing it to the side.

Then started again. Then again. And again…

Shit. Shit. And more shit. Why couldn’t he get it right?

He sighed and glanced around his bedroom. At the wads of paper littering his floor and the half-finished designs tacked up on the walls, so he couldn’t see the moldy wallpaper beneath. They mocked him. He could hear their whispers at the back of his mind, telling him he’d never be good enough. He snarled and swiped his shoulder-length hair into a low ponytail.

He needed a change of scenery and maybe some fresh air, but he had no desire to actually leave his dorm. His gaze fell to his window and the streaked panes of glass that hadn’t seen a rag in over a year. He could see the vague outline of the Atara skyline. He fell in love with all the different buildings that made up this fine city. It was one of the reasons he sought out Vera in the first place. He wanted to make his mark on this city with a design of his own.

He straightened in his seat as an idea struck him. Maybe he could… if he was careful, there wouldn’t be any harm in it, right? The Civil Corps couldn’t arrest him if he was just hanging out on a window ledge. He glanced down at the half-hearted attempt at a new design in his lap, then back to the window.

Fuck it.

He stood and pushed the window open. Its rusted hinges whined in protest, but it opened just wide enough for him to shimmy out onto the lip of stone that jutted out just far enough so he could sit comfortably. He settled back against the relief carved trim that decorated his window and turned to a new page of his sketchbook.

He admired the skyline with a faint smile, then took a moment to watch the people mill about in the streets below. The sweet smell of coffee and black tea wafted from the café below and curled up and around him like a blanket that warmed him to his core, despite the crisp autumn air outside. He hummed contentedly.

He loved this city. He never wanted to leave.

He used the buildings in front of him as inspiration as he began to sketch a new design. Something a little more angular that used a lot of geometric shapes and windows. It wasn’t like anything he’d designed before now, but the longer he stared at it, the more he liked it. It was something new. It was something innovative. He only hoped Vera would feel the same. He worked until the sky turned a lovely shade of pink and bled into the faintest of light purple. The color reminded him of the heather plants that grew in the gardens outside Vera’s home. His fingers itched to mix a paint color that matched it, but he resisted that urge. He needed to keep his mind focused on architecture. Painting for pleasure could wait until he made a name for himself.

A window slammed open and jolted him from his thoughts. He almost lost his grip on his sketchbook entirely, but managed to clutch it to his chest before it toppled over the edge. His lip curled in disgust as he turned to glare at the source of the commotion. A young man with dark hair, clad only in a pair of plaid underpants and long grey socks, scurried out onto the ledge and the window slammed shut behind him as soon as he cleared it.

“Come on, Moira, you don’t have to do this,” he drawled with a lilting accent as he rapped his knuckles on the glass, “I don’t care if you have a boyfriend. In fact, he’s welcome to join in the fun. I’m flexible and I know you are.”

Moira didn’t deign to respond and the young man’s shoulders slumped as he pouted and turned away from the window. He noticed Gust immediately and blinked at him owlishly. Gust mirrored his surprise, still clutching his pad protectively to his chest. He glanced down at his bare chest and then the tent in his pants. The heat burned at the tips of his ears as he stared pointedly at his face. The young man grinned at him fiendishly.

“Just another Wednesday, am I right, mate?”

Gust furrowed his brow at him. He didn’t even know how to respond to that. A normal Wednesday for him involved take out from the noodle vendor that set up shop outside his building and banging his head against the wall until inspiration finally struck him. And when inspiration failed, he drowned his sorrows with a few shots of vodka. If this was a regular Wednesday, he didn’t even want to consider what Saturday looked like for this man.

“Uh, actually, I…”

The man sidled down the ledge until he settled down beside him. He reeked of sex. Gust wrinkled his nose and leaned away from him. “”I live two floors down from you, but I was enjoying Moriaー you’ve met Moira, right? She’s this pretty young thing with big brown eyes and a mouth always painted red as sin. Anyway, I was enjoying her company this evening and...”

He paused and the corners of his mouth dipped into a frown. “Or at least I was until her boyfriend returned home early from class. Then she freaked out and suddenly developed morals or whatever.” He threw his whole body into the eye roll. “Now here we are, just two blokes sitting on the ledge of their building, shooting the shit.” He kicked his legs absently as he offered him a hand, “the name’s Albert by the way. Pleasure to meet you.”

Gust stared at his outstretched hand, utterly mystified by the entire situation. How… How was he supposed to proceed? Did he pretend this man wasn't just kicked out of a woman's dorm because she was cheating on her boyfriend? Was he supposed to ignore his bare chest and the tent that refused to go away in his pants? Was it too late to just ignore him? Probably. He squinted at him, but didn’t take his hand. “Gust.” He turned back to his sketchbook and continued, “now please leave me alone.”

Albert let his hand fall to his side. “Well Gust, you see, I would, but as you can see I’m currently on the side of a building wearing nothing but my underthings,” he snorted, “so, you’re stuck with me until Moira let’s me back in or you let me in.” He inclined his head towards Gust and hummed thoughtfully. “So, the ball’s in your court, mate.”

He went stock still at the mere suggestion. He wanted to use his window to get out of this? Never, not in a million years. He had no reason to help this sexual deviant escape the consequences of his poor choices. “Fuck off,” he mumbled as he dragged his pencil across the page, “I don’t have to help you.”

Albert hummed. “Very true, you don’t,” he said with a sigh, “I guess that means I have to wait with you and go into great detail about the various things Moira and I were doing before her boyfriend got here. Let’s see there was this one position where Iー”

Gust cut him with a glare. “If I let you use my window, will you promise never to speak to me again?”

Albert made a crisscross motion over his chest. “Cross my heart,” he said with a wide grin, “you’ll never have to see me again after this.” He winked. “Unless you like what you see. Like I was saying before, I’m flexible.”

Gust gave him another once over. He wasn’t unattractive, quite the opposite. He had a charming smile that showed off a shallow divot on his right cheek. His dark hair was tousled from the soft breeze and, he had to assume, the sex he just had. Not normally his type, but Gust didn’t see too much action these days. But he wouldn’t give this bastard the satisfaction of knowing he considered his offer for a moment.

He glowered at him and said, “Just get inside.”

Albert beamed and, together, they crawled back through the window and into his bedroom. Once his feet were safely planted on the ground, Gust turned and glared at the half-dressed heathen. He stood in the middle of his bedroom, hands planted firmly on his hips as he regarded the sketches on his walls with mild intrigue. His heart leapt into his throat.

Gust wanted to die. He forgot about all his shitty designs on the walls. He resisted the urge to jump in front of him and wave his arms wildly to distract him from his shame.

“Alright,” his voice cracked on the panic mounting in his chest, “you’re inside, now leave.”

Albert ignored him and peered more closely at the design hanging over his bed. An intricate layout for a botanical garden he designed when he first vied for Vera’s mentorship several years prior. It was the first and only design she ever complimented. And by complimenting, he meant an almost smile and a ‘it’s alright’, which was high praise coming from someone heartless and stone-cold like her.

“This is pretty good, more than good actually,” he noted with an appreciative tilt of his head, “are you an architect too?”

Gust blinked. “Uh, yes, I’m trying to be?” His brow furrowed at him. “Wait. Too? Are you an architect?”

He buzzed his lips and took a step back. “Construction management, actually,” he drawled with a wave of his hand, “but I’ve met my fair share of architects while tailing my mentor across the Free Cities. None of their designs look like these though. You’re pretty good.”

“Oh.” He scratched sheepishly at the nape of his neck. He turned and busied himself with grabbing a shirt and sweatpants from his dresser. “I’m alright, I guess,” he said as he tossed the clothes at Albert, “now get dressed, you look utterly ridiculous sporting around in nothing but your underwear.”

“Don’t be modest,” Albert said as he tugged the shirt over his head, “I know talent when I see it. I’d throw my hat in your ring if you wanted to make a living out of it.”

“Well, I’d need to get certified first,” Gust grumbled under his breath, “and who knows when my master will allow that. She hates my work.”

Albert nodded. “Well, when it happens, you should come find me,” he said as he shoved his hands in the pockets of Gust’s sweatpants. The soft grey fabric pooled around his feet, considering he stood at least a head shorter than him. “We’ll make a living of it, mate.”

Gust wrinkled his nose and said, “You agreed to never speak to me again if I helped you.”

He pursed his lips. “I did, didn’t I?” He shrugged and made his way towards the door, “well then, thanks for your help. As promised, I’ll never seek you out again.” He paused, hand on the doorknob and glanced back at him. “But if you seek me out again, I won’t turn you away. So, don’t be a stranger.”

Gust clucked his tongue. “Just leave.”

“You got it, mate,” he said, “thanks again.”

And with that, he disappeared through the door and Gust was alone again. He didn’t move right away. Instead, he glanced at the design above his bed, then the one next to it, and then the next, until he’d surveyed the whole room. Albert liked his work. Albert thought he had what it took to be one of the greats. Knowing someone felt that way, even if that someone was a half-dressed imbecile, was… oddly inspiring?

He turned back to his half finished sketch and smiled to himself. The wells of inspiration flowed freely through his veins and he already had a few ideas swirling around at the back of his mind.

He was convinced Vera would love them.

☼☼☼☼☼☼

“And that’s how Albert and I met,” Gust concluded with an indignant sniff, “see, he’s a depraved sexual deviant who drags me into his shenanigans.”

“Wait,” Albert started as he leaned forward in his seat, “you actually considered my offer to sleep with me?”

Gust scowled. Was that all he took from that story? Sexual deviant, indeed. He settled back in his seat and shrugged. “A pretty face is a pretty face, but then you opened your mouth and I quickly reconsidered your offer.” He leveled him with a glare. “I think I made a good call in the end.”

“I didn’t want you anyway,” Albert insisted as he toyed with the ends of Sonia’s hair, “you’re too grumpy for my tastes.”

“That’s a pretty cute story actually,” Piper teased. She elbowed Gust in the ribs and chuckled. He made a face, but it softened when Piper smiled up at him. He wrapped an arm around her and placed a soft kiss on the top of her head. “It’s good to see you’ve always been a stick in the mud and that wasn’t a new development.”

“That’s not true,” Albert exclaimed, “Gust was a very charming individual when he wanted to be. Why, I remember this one time in Atara…”

[lepus-arcticus]

OMENS: CHAPTER ELEVEN one | two | three | four | five | six | seven | eight | nine | ten trigger warnings apply

KICKING HORSE B&B 3:03 AM

The whine of hinges, the door sweeping open, and then he was no longer alone.

She was naked, flushed and plump and pink from the bath, rogue locks of hair snaking wetly down from her forehead. Her grapefruit-pink tongue was clamped between her teeth in a minxy smile, and in the doorframe, she looked ripe as an August peach, bleeding sweetness from every pore.

Before he could speak, she moved to him and settled her steamy, naked body into his lap. Those thick country thighs squirmed against his rising erection, and her pert, pretty nipples poked at his chest. This close, she smelled of lavender, of sage, of old blood.

He wanted to kiss her, he realized—no, he had to kiss her, had to unlock that mouth, had to swallow the secrets she was keeping there—but when he smoothed his hands down into the warm dell of her back, she pulled away, giggling, and stood up. She threaded her fingers playfully through his, and tugged at him, and he followed her through the haze to the dark, crowded hall.

The Bishop women in full spectral pallor stood shoulder to shoulder, blocking their way, but Anna swept onward, and as she brushed past them, they swayed like wind-blown wheat, parting to let them through. Mulder looked back in bewilderment as he passed them, and their eyes sank, expressionless, into his.

The tower. That’s where they were going, he realized. The tower.

Anna paused at the base of the stairs, brought their joined hands to her belly, and flattened his palm to her navel. Life sang and squirmed within her. He wanted to kiss her again then, wanted to enter her, to conquer her, to live inside of her, so keenly and desperately that it felt like anger. He pressed himself into her, clutching at the lush flesh of her hips, but she only laughed in a tinkling cascade of echoes, twisted away from him gracefully, and began to climb.

He followed, hungry for her.

She reached the door, and looked back at him. He nodded darkly, encouraging her. Get her inside, he thought, get her against the wall, or on the ground…  

Anna laughed again, and opened the door to Scully’s apartment.

The candles were lit, casting flickering shadows over her, and as the light danced, she and Scully were one woman, one body, one soul.

Anna laughed, and laughed, and then she screamed, and so did Scully. As he watched, helpless as a pillar of salt, skin flew from her in wet streaks, muscle and fat tore away from the bone in meaty chunks. She screamed at him in Scully’s voice, calling his name, and he couldn’t move, couldn’t save her, couldn’t, couldn’t, he was helpless, he was drowning in a tide of her blood⁠—

Mulder woke with a yelp of horror, grasping at the sheets, drenched in a cold sweat. “Scully—,” he gasped, gulping air, his heart kicking at his ribs. Oh, fuck, just a dream. Just a nightmare.

He worked to slow his breathing, reminding himself to count to seven on the inhale. But by the time he reached three, he realized that he was alone. He flung his hand over to Scully’s side of the bed.

The sheets were cool.

A fuzz began in the back of his head, and before he knew what he was doing, his firearm was off of the side table and in his hands and he was up, back against the wall next to the closed door, straining to hear something, anything at all. The cool air stroked his bare chest, and a sharp spatter of goosebumps prickled over his arms and neck.

Something told him not to call out for her, but he held her name in his mouth just the same. Scully.

He reached down and turned the handle, slowly, trying to make as little noise as possible and cringing when the hinges creaked. Slipping through the door, he stalked down the hall, resolutely ignoring the framed faces of the Bishop women. He couldn’t handle their eyes right now, couldn’t handle their judgement, their waiting.

He held his breath as he reached the open door of the other bedroom, forcing his eyes to remain on the floor, almost expecting to see a dark pool of her precious, precious lifeblood spreading towards his feet.

She wasn’t there. The room was empty, the window was closed, there were no signs of struggle. Mulder pulled his bottom lip in between his teeth, biting hard. Where was she? What had they done to her?

The tower, he thought, but then remembered Rhiannon’s words of warning. She wouldn’t be there. He had a suspicion that despite his dream, it might be the only safe place in Horizon.

Back out into the hall, and down the stairs, one by one, quietly, quietly. The house was a silent watcher, still and cold, and he recalled discovering Rhiannon in her chair, corpse-like in sleep. His pulse roared in his ears as he moved forward into the kitchen, as steadily as he could, keeping his back to the wall and his gun at the ready.

He glanced at the front door, thinking of Anna’s skin violently unraveling in Scully’s apartment, and was gratified to find that it remained firmly shut, locked from the inside, too, by the overextended position of the deadbolt.

He moved into the kitchen, scanning the darkened windows, the floor, searching for signs of her. Nothing was out of place, but the quality of the air was different, somehow. His awareness sharpened, his breath became lighter. The pads of his feet stuck to the chilled tile, and they made little sucking sounds as he pulled them up, moving slowly, gun-first.

He wasn’t alone. There was something here. Someone. He could sense it. The buzzing in his head continued to build. And then⁠—

“Mulder?”

He swung around, nerves alight, his gun pointed directly at the source of the sound.

Scully, whole and tiny in his t-shirt, stood before him, the night-black greenery of the conservatory wrapping her in shadows.

“Jesus Christ, Scully,” Mulder hissed. He lowered his gun, remembering at the last moment to click the safety back into place, and abandoned it on the kitchen island. He rubbed at his cheeks, struggling to regain his composure.

Scully raised a sympathetic eyebrow.  

“You weren’t in bed,” he said, by way of explanation.

“I couldn’t sleep,” she replied weakly, stepping towards him, and that’s when he noticed the shine in her eyes, her swollen lips, the flush in her cheeks. She’d been crying.

His gut dropped, and he immediately closed the gap between them, gathering her up under his chin. The way her small, slim body folded into his reminded him of hospitals, of almost-kisses. It reminded him that despite her strength, her capability, despite her genius and her pride, she could be stolen away from him at any moment.

“Hey,” he whispered, aching. “Hey, it’s okay. I’ve got you. I’m sorry for earlier. I’m so sorry.” She locked her arms around his waist, let him rock her slowly.

“Mulder,” she said into his shirt with a sniff. He pulled back to look down at her. “You have to start wearing a knee brace.”

He loosened his hold, almost smiling. “What?”

Her hands remained on him, one on his arm, one on his chest. “And you need to get your prostate checked yearly when you reach 45, okay? It’s a bit earlier than recommended, but I want you to go. For me.”

“What are you talking about?” Dread began to settle around him like ash, filling the air, making his skin feel cottony.

“And get a bed. Please. You can have mine, okay?”

“Scully,” he begged, realizing what she was trying to say, to do. “Scully, stop.” He retrieved her hand from where it lay on his chest, brought it to his mouth, and pressed his lips to the heel of her palm. Her hand was chilled and limp, and he held it to his face, trying to warm her.

“You were right, earlier. Upstairs. I’m not…” she let the statement trail off. “And... I want you to take care of yourself. I want you to be happy.”

“Don’t talk like that,” he said, his voice catching. He pulled her back into his arms and crushed a long, firm kiss into her hairline.

She pressed on, clinging to his shirt. “Mulder, please, listen to me. Listen. You have so much… so much life inside of you. I don’t want you to squander it on some fruitless quest for vengeance when I’m gone.”

“Stop,” he insisted. “You’re going to be fine.” He pulled back, framed her face in his hands and forced her to look at him, stroking her cheek with his thumb. God, she was beautiful—her lips plush and quivering, her eyes wide and wet. Beautiful and utterly singular, animated from within by the most substantial soul he’d ever encountered. Losing her was not an option. Not now, not ever.

He kissed the corner of her tearful eye, the bridge of her perfect, queenly nose. She exhaled in a shivering sigh, and her sweet, wet breath washed over his skin.

“No. I’m not,” she said. “I’m going to die.”

He couldn’t hear it. He wouldn’t. So desperately, lavishly, he took her mouth with his and shut her up.

It wasn’t roses or wildfire or anything else he’d ever let himself imagine in countless lonely, indulgent moments. It was shadows in the basement, smudged newsprint, gas station coffee. It was Washington rain and her 2 a.m. laughter over the phone line. It was every darkness they’d slipped into and out of, every scrap of wonder they’d ever shared. It was Scully, his Scully, ever-new but as familiar as his own reflection. It was coming home, and finding that you’d been there all along.

She kissed him back. God, she kissed him back for one perfect minute, making heavenly little noises in the back of her throat, her kittenish nails scrabbling at his chest. But then she pulled away, tearing herself from him with a gasp.

He dove after her, backing her up against a plant-strewn workbench, unwilling to let her escape. He took her mouth again, faster than any protest she might muster, and found it soft and sweet and welcoming. It all raged inside of him, years and years of it⁠—fuck, it burned⁠—and kissing her was like drinking cool water, quenching a desert-earned thirst. He was swallowed into the crisp fragrance of greenery, the wet musk of nourished, fertile dirt, the warm smell of woman. It was as though he’d rediscovered Eden.

“Please,” she sobbed against his mouth, her lips mashed against his in grief. “Please, Mulder, you have to promise me.”

He thrust his tongue against hers a response, and she clamped it possessively between her teeth, sending hot darts of pleasure into his sacrum. His hands found the proud, bony flare of her ribs, and in one clumsy motion, he lifted her onto the bench in a clatter of terra cotta. A pot tumbled and cracked noisily against the tile, spilling cool earth onto his bare feet. But Scully wrapped her legs around his hips, trapped him between her thighs, and kissed him back, kissed him back, kissed him back.

Her hands in his hair, her hands at his hips, and then her hands were at his chest, pushing him away. “Stop,” she pleaded, in a voice rough with emotion, but he couldn’t. Couldn’t let her slip away. Couldn’t let her go on for one more second not understanding in the very marrow of her bones that he needed her.

He dragged her closer and tried to kiss her again, but she turned her face and pulled him into her shoulder instead. He threaded his fingers into the hair at the nape of her neck, tugging desperately, his lips at her pulse point.

“Let me love you,” he demanded, enslaved by raw emotion.

She gripped his shirt, pulled him even closer, squeezed him with her moonlit thighs. “I can’t, God, I can’t,” she chanted.

He gripped her silky hair, scraping his teeth experimentally against her skin. “Why them, then? Why Jerse, why Daly?”

“They aren’t you,” she protested fiercely.

He melted, nosing her cheek to turn her face and kiss her again. She let him, opening her mouth to him, stealing his air. One of his hands slipped under her shirt and and pressed against her ouroboros, bringing her so tight against him that he rubbed up against the scorching crease of her, obliterating any doubt in his mind that she wanted him back, and badly, and now.

She moaned sweetly as he ground himself into her heat, but in the next breath, twisted away from him.

“Dana⁠—,” he pleaded, but she slid off of the table, out of his arms.

“Stop. God, please, Mulder, you need to stop. This needs to stop,” she said, pacing away, leaving him breathless and rumpled and hard and heartbroken.

She turned back to face him, a pale spectre in the shadowy jungle of the greenhouse. “With you… I have to think about tomorrow, and the day after, and the day after that, until the day that I... I can’t do that to you. To myself. I can’t. I’m not brave enough.”

The watery glint in her night-dark eyes sobered him. What was he supposed to tell her? That it was too late? That his work, his life, his future would be meaningless without her?

“Scully…,” he began, but she slumped forward again, back into his arms.

“I can’t,” she said.

Mulder pulled back into himself, trying to summon the courage not to push her. “Okay,” he said, rocking her gently, softening against her belly. “Okay.”

He held her for a long time, the tile chilling his feet, her head tucked under his chin. At some undetermined point, he took her small hand in his and led her back upstairs.

They slept twined together, his hand resting over the steady, rhythmic countdown of her heart.

[prettywordsyouleft]

Mistletoe Manor - Part 4

Summary: Christmas is the most important time of year for all those who live within Mistletoe Manor. From the staff to the Hawthorne family themselves, everyone works hard to ensure that the festive season is a success every year! We invite you to see if everyone can pull off another  magical Christmas at the manor this year.

Pairing: Park Seo Joon, Bang Yongguk, Brian Kang, Jung Daehyun, Jung Jaehyun, Lee Taeyong and OCs.

Genre: regency au / romance / christmas au

A/N: Becky ( @noona-clock​ ) and I wanted to create a magical Christmas for everyone and what  better way to do that than at Mistletoe Manor! Because of the nature of having several idols, we chose to work with OCs and we hope you love them as much as we do.

Mistletoe Manor will be posted daily at 10am NZST / 4pm EST daily.

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10

The requirements in the manor after the mishap at the Winter Festival meant a lot of the staff were now working two roles. For the sake of meeting the deadline, it made sense that this was happening and a lot of the villagers were also teaming up with the staff and Hawthorne family to make it work.

It was suddenly rather quiet in Mistletoe Manor, and this suited Taeyong just fine. He had been tasked to stay on with Percy, the butler, knowing between the two of them, the house would maintain its excellence in standing.

But that wasn’t without a little assistance from Taeyong himself.

“What do you think you’re doing?!”

Looking up from the banister Taeyong was polishing, he noticed Anna standing there. He smirked, going back to the task at hand. “Is it in your repertoire to leave such streaks? The Hawthorne’s use these stairs on the daily. I would be utterly aghast if I were them to see such a mess.”

“Su-such a mess?!” Anna echoed, shoving him aside to inspect the railing. She then turned to him, pointedly. “You’re teasing me!”

“I’m afraid not, I have merely masked your errors. Don’t you have bedding to change?” Taeyong mentioned and Anna placed her hands on her hips, making it impossible for him to keep his humour to himself. He chuckled smugly. “Will taking purchase in your sides make those hands work any faster?”

“Might I remind you, Taeyong, of your own role within this house?”

He nodded, proudly. “I am at the service of the Hawthorne’s needs.”

“You’re a footman. Not a maid.”

“I’d hope not, could you imagine me prancing around here in your outfit? It would make a sight for sore eyes!”

“Just because Percy took you under his wing since you’re too afraid of hard work out at the marketplace-”

“Now, hold up just a second-”

“Does not mean you come up in here and boss me around!”

“When did I?” he retorted, throwing down the cloth onto the banister. “I was merely minding my own business until you stuck your nose-”

“My nose?! What is so wrong with my nose?!” Anna argued, her face now glowing hot as she shoved it closer to his. Taeyong tightened his tie in order to compose himself.

They were always like this. Many referred to them as the cat and mouse of this house, their bickering constantly heard down every hallway. Even the owners of the residence were humoured by the pair, though Taeyong found Anna to be the most intolerable woman in this county.

And having her stand this close to him made him entirely uncomfortable. Jarringly stepping back, he missed his footing, stumbling down a few stairs before landing on his bottom.

Anna giggled. “Yes, now that suits you just fine. The stumbling idiot. Back to my bedding, isn’t that right?”

“ANNA!”

Throughout the day, Taeyong continued to have endless mishaps whenever he crossed paths with the maid. Anna was just as frustrated with him, glaring at him as she dropped a stack of folded towels when he had come past her carrying out the dirty laundry. She had dusted the drapes right into his line of cleaning the windows and Taeyong had stepped in her pile of cinders she removed from the parlour’s hearth.

It was chaotic and yet, as he fell back upon his bed that evening, he couldn’t help but laugh.

It had been a good day.

When the next day arrived, he was tasked with helping Anna clean the grand dining hall. After the festival began, guests would soon arrive for Christmas at the manor and more meals would be held within this room. It would need to be spotless now so they could set up for the first large meal of the holidays.

“You do the left side and I’ll do the right,” Anna instructed and Taeyong blew out an air of annoyance, moving forward towards the centre of the room instead. “Are you not listening to me? As one of the head maids in this house, I should be respected!”

“Why should I show respect to someone who belittles me at any chance she gets?”

“You’re impossible!”

“At least you know my own sentiments towards you,” Taeyong agreed, clearing off the table so he could climb on top of it.

Anna gasped. “Get down from there right this instant! You do not put your feet on a table!”

“Pray tell, how do we clean the chandelier then?” he asked bitterly, and she gestured him down, slapping at his ankle until he hopped down.

And then she groaned. “You will not breathe a word of this to anyone else.”

“Word of what?”

“Crouch down so I can climb aboard your shoulders.”

“Surely standing on the table-”

“Not where the affluent sit! If they hadn’t taken the ladders to the site I would use them, now crouch down!”

“Do not blame me if I cannot hold your weight for long!”

“Perhaps you should do some more physical exercise to build up your strength then for I am not heavy.”

“Say that to someone who is not holding your entire weight upon his shoulders,” Taeyong griped and Anna sighed heavily before getting to work. For several minutes it was fine, Taeyong readjusting her when his position tired. She was almost done with one side when he began to struggle. “How much longer?”

“You can’t even handle five minutes?”

“It’s been longer than ten.”

“Even Percy could hold me longer than you.”

“Next time ask him to do so then.”

Anna glanced down at him. “Could you stand still, I’m trying to reach up to the highest part here!”

“Then hurry up and do it.”

Anna stretched further, her legs that were dangling around his waist, shifting with her lean. It threw their balance off and Taeyong doubled in half towards the table, managing to just get his hands behind her hand and back to brace her fall as he landed on top of her.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to…” Anna breathed, her eyes wide and searching his. Taeyong was stunned entirely, all his strength leaving him the longer he stared back.

And then it happened all too quickly, their lips meeting midway in a fevered kiss. It was unexpected and yet he groaned, taking more of her within his mouth until he grew breathless.

Once his lips fell away from hers, he snapped up straight, letting her fall out of his arms onto the table with a soft thud and put distance between them. “You kissed me!”

“I am certain it wasn’t just my lips working alone there, Taeyong,” she retorted, her tone too airy to be full of contempt as usual. He shot her a frazzled look, falling captive in her gaze again until the door suddenly opened.

Taeyong jolted so much that he stumbled to the ground. Percy looked at him and then smiled. “I forgot you would need this hook. It pulls down the chandeliers so you can clean them accordingly. Oh, are we quite alright in here? You both appear rather distressed. I do hope you are getting along for once.”

When the butler left the room, they scrambled to their feet, going in opposite directions to clean hastily.

On his way into the servants’ kitchen later that evening for a snack, he sighed heavily when he found Josephine sitting across from Maggie, the cook of the house. “Again, Joey?”

“My Lady, you mean!” she corrected and he rolled his eyes.

“If you come down here, then must I refer to you with any title?”

“I trust that you will not tell Mother on me for my visit,” the youngest Hawthorne requested and Taeyong merely shrugged. “Taeyong!”

“I might go to Lord Hawthorne instead.”

“You wouldn’t dare do such a wicked thing!”

“Don’t mind him, pet, he’s in a mood.”

“Whatever for?” Joey asked, looking at the man beside her. “Are you ill? Are you vexed by the happenings in the house right now?”

“Vexed, I like that word,” the cook exclaimed as she worked on the eggs she was scrambling.

“Don’t mind me, I’m processing.”

“You and Cassie are too alike. And you saw what happened there. She worked herself into a state. Tell me, as your friend I am here to assist you.”

“As a friend?” he echoed and Joey nodded adamantly. “You best not spread any gossip about this.”

“My lips are sealed!”

“Anna kissed me today,” he announced and then shook his head. “Or I did first. One of us or both of us…”

“You finally realised it?!”

Taeyong looked between Joey and the cook who was now laughing with glee. “Realised what?”

“You like each other! Goodness, is that all.”

“What, no, we despise each other! She drives me insane. What woman has the right to make me this wound up? The other day she purposely ruined my cleaning of the windows!”

“Uh-huh,” Joey murmured, still smiling to herself. “And yet you don’t seem repulsed by kissing her.”

“No… I don’t.” Taeyong groaned. “That’s why I am frustrated. I should, shouldn’t I?”

Joey shook her head. “Why, you like her so it should make your heart soar not shudder.”

“It’s about time too. I wonder who will win the wager set on this once it’s out in the open?”

“Did you choose a date too, Maggie? I sure had it pegged for after Christmas but with the rush maybe it’s brought them together.”

“You made a wager on us?!”

“Sometimes life is boring in this house,” Joey admitted with a giggle. She took his hand in hers and then patted it softly. “You really had no idea what your heart wanted, huh?”

“The bigger question is, what will you do now that you know?” Maggie asked and both women looked at him expectedly.

Taeyong sighed. “I … well, what should I do?”

After the advice of those in the kitchen, the following morning and the day of the Winter Festival, Taeyong had been tasked to finish off the dining hall before all staff could enjoy the evening off. He was anxious standing at the door to the room, and when Anna sped by without so much of a morning greeting, he questioned if Josephine’s advice had been proper.

Especially when Anna squealed from within the room.

“Look at this mess! There are petals all over the floor! We’ll be here cleaning all day long!” she exclaimed and turned as Taeyong came inside. “Did you do this on purpose?!”

“Yes -- I mean, no.”

“It is winter, where did this even come from?!”

“Well, I was permitted to take it from the indoor garden,” he mentioned softly, Anna’s brows now knitting together.

“You did this?” He nodded. “Why?”

“It’s supposed to be romantic.”

“It’s a mess on the floor, Taeyong! As a maid, I have to clean things like this up!” she complained and he nodded a little too much. Coming over to place the small bouquet he had been holding down on the table, he crouched to start scooping the petals up.

“Wait, you did this for me?” Anna asked as she picked up the flowers, and he glanced at her before straightening up again.

“After our kiss yesterday, I felt that there’s been a reason for our endless bickering.”

“What reason?”

He smiled; relieved to know she wasn’t aware of it either. “I believe I may have feelings for you.”

“For me?”

“Who else puts up with me as well as you?” he offered and she blinked a few times before smiling.

“You do have a point.”

“And whilst you’re the most intolerable woman I have ever met-”

“Hey!”

“I know you’ll be the only woman I ever want to meet.”

Anna eased, smiling shyly as she took in her flowers. “You did this too?”

“Is it too much?”

“No, it exactly what I expect from you. Messy yet charming. Come, we better clean up in here if we want to make it to the festival in time.”

_________________

Part 5

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