#kisses to be given freely with a cup of tea.

[megistusdiary]

this popped into my head not too long ago. transfem!arle with a breeding kink? since she treats the kids at the house of the hearth with care, i have a feeling she'd like to raise her own children (with her wife) as well hehehe

gearing up to write another breeding kink fic with arle

breeding kink w/ arlecchino ♡

dom!transfem arle x sub!fem reader

warnings: smut (mdni), wlw content, transfem arle, breeding kink, arle/reader are married 💍, cunnilingus, penetration, creampie

arlecchino admires you for how maternal you often are. even when you think she isn't looking, you're so kind to the children. it's... difficult for her to be the same, though she truly does love the children. she knows this is something she can never be given her past. honestly, it's a shock she can even hear the children call you "mother" without causing her to wince.

it's admittedly grown on her quite a bit. she finds herself pleased, especially when the children themselves tell her how wonderful you are. they love your stories, the way you help them with their hair, how you have tea parties with them, it makes arlecchino happy to have you around.

over time, you two grow very close. beyond just being partners, she proposes to you, satisfied that you're happy to say you're her wife.

the children often grow more attached to you, and arlecchino finds herself, for the first time, thinking about her own children. she had never imagined that one day she might actually want her own children. what a curious thought.

of course, you already make an excellent wife. you're a wonderful life partner, and she enjoys every moment with you. yet, you'd make an even better mother.

she can almost see it: you, round with her child, resting in the grassy flower fields while she pushes your older child on a swing.

she's never considered it before, and now she's having vivid daydreams. how bizarre.

it's late at night when she first asks your thoughts on the matter of having a family. you tell her that you're perfectly content as you are, snuggling up to her.

she knows you're trying to pacify her, though it is based on old ideology. she tugs you back, holding your chin.

"i am not asking if you will forego your wishes for me. i am asking you to fulfill them with me." she asserts and you look up at her surprised.

"you want to start a family with me?"

"i'm asking if you want to." her thumb strokes your cheek and you practically jump onto her. "would you?"

you nod enthusiastically, letting her roll you on top of her, kissing her deeply. she grinds you on her lap, letting you feel the growing bulge beneath you while she groans into your lips.

you moan softly, letting her tongue slide over yours, hands gripping the hair at the nape of her neck. she slides her hands up your sides, tugging the nightgown over your head and off to the side.

her hands cup your breasts, thumbs sliding over your perky nipples while she steals your breath. her lips travel down your neck, letting you moan freely as her lips wrap around your nipple, laving her tongue over your flesh.

your head tips back while her other hand slides into your panties, tracing over your cunt to collect your slick.

"you're dripping. does the thought of having a family with me excite you that much?" it's got a teasing lilt to it, and you pull her head back against your chest.

"don't tease me." you huff at her, but she pinches your clit in return.

"don't be a brat." she warns, lightly biting at your breast before pulling you up to tug your panties down unceremoniously. she shoves you back onto the bed, pushing your thighs up and licking over your clit.

you squirm beneath her, letting her lap at your pussy, sliding her tongue into your fluttering hole. she looks up at you, admiring how quickly you go limp beneath her. your eyes are closed shut, thighs squeezing her head as she makes you cum on her tongue.

she kisses your thighs, helping you to relax before she's tugging her pants down, freeing her cock. you watch as she strokes herself to full hardness, sliding the tip over your sensitive clit.

she looks up at you, pushing your hips up and spreading your folds. "are you ready?" she asks softly, and you nod for her. she eases you into it, slowly but surely stretching you open with each inch of her cock.

it's a slight burn with her girth, but she holds your hand gently through it. the way you wrap around her is enough to have her groaning, wanting so badly to just take you fast and rough. but you're her wife; of course she wants to treat you gently.

she waits for you to tell her you're ready before she fucks you harder, deeper, making sure you feel every vein and twitch from her cock. she mumbles over and over about filling you up, and you reply in delirious whimpers, begging her for more.

"you'll be such- a wonderful mother-" she huffs out in between thrusts, feeling you shake beneath her. "my wife, mine-"

you cry for her, nodding along. "yes, yes! yours- fill me up, please!"

her hands grip your hips tighter, slamming her cock into you, one thumb snaking over to your clit to drive you closer to the edge. you writhe, head thrashing around as you cum around her, drawing her own orgasm out of her as she paints your insides white.

she leans over you, panting, nestling into your shoulder but not pulling out as she tenderly strokes your arm. you whimper at her, closing your eyes until she begins to rub your clit again, reminding you she isn't finished until she's stuffed you so full, her cum leaks right back out.

[heich0e]

There's an arm tight around your waist when you wake. It's heavy and familiar. It pulls you a little closer as your return to consciousness becomes known.

"G'morning," you mumble, rubbing at your eyes with the point of your knuckle. You blink, once and then twice, as the waking world comes back into focus and takes the shape of a new day.

"Morning."

Levi's voice is always so raspy in the morning. So low and rough. You shiver a little at the sound, but hide it in a stretch–your movement stunted by the hold he has you in, pulled to his bare chest.

"What did you dream about?" you ask him sleepily, rolling over so you're facing his way. He lets you move freely, but keeps his arm over you, and you prop your chin in your hand once you're laying on your tummy. You watch him as he watches you.

"Dunno," he says indifferently. "You know I don't ever really remember stuff like that."

You scrunch up your nose, having expected the answer but being no less disappointed by it.

"What did you dream about?" he turns your question back to you.

"Got a boob job."

Levi's eyes widen in surprise and his lip curls in distaste.

"Why the hell would you dream about that?" he grunts derisively, almost sulking.

"Who knows," you shrug as much as you can given your position. "You loved 'em though."

Levi takes your face in his hand and squishes your cheeks together until your lips purse. His expression is surprisingly severe as he looks you in the eyes. "Don't even joke about that. I like them exactly as they are."

He leans forward and presses a kiss to your forehead, your lips still puckered thanks to his grip. He lets your face go after a moment, and then pushes himself up to slip out of bed, shuffling off towards the bathroom down the hall.

You lay back in Levi's bed for a moment, flopping down with your face pressed in the pillows. They smell like him: like his soap, and his beloved laundry detergent whose brand he's so loyal to he buys it in bulk and keeps stacked at the back of his closet.

Down the hall, you hear the tap running as he washes his face, just like he does first thing every morning. The next thing you hear is the medicine cabinet open as he retrieves his blue toothbrush, kept in a little storage holder next to the yellow toothbrush he'd bought for you a few weeks ago to replace the pink one he'd bought you before that.

You lay there, peacefully listening to the motions of his morning routine step-by-step, until eventually he comes shuffling out again in his slippers and heads towards the little kitchen on the other side of his bachelor apartment.

Next is the kettle, filled with enough water for him to have tea and you to have coffee, then onto the electric base to boil.

"Get up, lazy."

You smile into his pillow as he calls to you.

"Don't wanna," you say, rolling over onto your back so he can hear you clearly.

"You have work," he reminds you, though he really doesn't need to–you're as aware of the fact as he is. You groan defeatedly, pushing yourself upright.

Levi looks over at you from the kitchen where he's preparing two mugs–one with looseleaf tea in a steeper, the other with a single-cup percolator resting overtop, waiting to be filled. He watches as you stretch your arms up over your head, the hem of the long-sleeved shirt he'd loaned to you the night before lifting from the motion. Your muscles ache a little, not in an unpleasant way, and you're still a little stiff from sleep.

You roll yourself out of bed and into the kitchen after him.

"What are you gonna have for breakfast?" he asks, the kettle shutting off automatically as it comes to temperature. Levi has one of those kettles where you can choose the automatic shut off temperature because–in his own words–he'd rather drink nothing than drink badly made tea.

"I want that pie from last night," you say, reaching for the door of the refridgerator to retrieve the very pastry you speak of. The two of you had stopped at a diner for dinner after a long day, and you'd lost your motivation to eat dessert but brought a slice of apple pie home with you for later. Levi stops you with a strong arm hooked around your waist.

"You can't eat pie for breakfast."

You pout. "Why not?"

Levi huffs indignantly through his nose, like it pains him to even dignify your question with an answer.

"You need to eat something with some nutritional value to start the day."

"There's fruit in it!" you argue uselessly.

"No."

You fight weakly against his hold, reaching out towards the appliance he works to keep you from. "But I want pie."

Levi finally lets you go with a long, world-weary sigh, knowing that his water is going cold.

"I bought you jam," he grumbles, pouring the kettle delicately over the mug waiting for him at the counter. "If you insist on starting the day with sugar at least have it on some toast."

You open the door to the refridgerator and sure enough on the door beside his usual condiments there's a little bottle of jam waiting for you. The same brand you always keep in your own fridge for yourself. You smile, plucking it out, eying the takeout container with your apple pie a little wistfully before letting the door swing shut behind you.

You creep up next to Levi at the counter, pressing a kiss to his cheek as he pours the hot water over the coffee filter waiting over your favourite mug.

"Thanks for the jam," you murmur into the soft, warm skin of his cheek.

"Yeah, yeah," he says dismissively, nudging the loaf of multigrain bread in front of him towards you with his free hand. It's the really seedy, healthy kind your mom is always telling you to buy because it's high in plant sterols and good for your heart. You expected nothing less. "Just make your toast."

You know he wouldn't have stopped you even if you ate the pie.

You know he still would have made you your coffee and driven you to work and kissed you goodbye when he told you to have a nice day.

The same as always. Never changing. Because he likes you exactly as you are.

But you just laugh and do as you're told, and make his life a little bit easier–if only just for once.

[fortunekookie07]

Ashfierce posted a dating him photo series for each of the boys and I was inspired by one of Rafayel's chosen pics. I ended up using all of them as inspiration. I present to you:

A Stupid Kind of Wonderful

Dating Rafayel was an experience in itself. If you thought about it rationaly, he was kind of (a lot) selfish. He was also arrogant, and sometimes you just wanted to punch him in his stupid, pretty face (that you love). He was complex, his heart was carefully guarded and hidden away under his brash, haughty personality.

He was talented, one of the best artists to appear in a millennium. Every art piece he created was highly sought after. Each collector wanting to add a one of a kind creation to their collection.

You were often giddy that, rather than his paintings, you had the best thing of all. Rafayel himself, he'd given his heart to you freely. It hadn't taken much effort for him to shed the persona he presented to the rest of the world and show his true self. But only to you, only for you.

He'd told you many times before that a Lemurian mated only once, for life, every life they lived would only be for that one person. You had not been able to get it out of him just how many times he'd been reborn, but you could tell he was an old soul deep down. Sometimes, the way he spoke when he was serious was like he was ancient. Like he'd seen all the world had to offer many times over, and you were the only thing he ever wanted or needed.

Then there were times like tonight where you were convinced that your lover was actually a five year old, or had once been a cat.

You'd gone looking for him to tell him that dinner was ready, still holding the spoon You'd been using to stir with. Upon opening the bedroom door, you dropped the spoon as both hands fell to your sides like dead weights.

There was Rafayel (a fully grown man of 24 years) playing in a box. He'd cut four holes in the sides and was down on all fours, on top of the bed like some kind of freakish animal or a mutated insect.

"W-w-what are you doing?" You managed to gasp out voice high and squeaky at the end of your sentence. The box flaps popped open as he stuck his head out. Styrofoam peanuts statically stuck to his hair and pointing every which way. Upon seeing his deer in the headlights expression and just how ridiculous he looked, you doubled over in laughter. Gasping for air as you sank to your knees. Tears rolled down your cheeks as you laughed hysterically.

Rustling and fumbling on the bed had you looking up just in time to see him practically teleport out of the box sending peanuts everywhere. They were stuck to his clothes and hair, and his sheepish expression sent you into a new fit of giggles.

"R-Rafay-el what we-re y-you doing"?!? You ask in between laughs. He mumbled something that sounded suspiciously like he'd just wanted to play in the box, as he scratched the side of his face and brushed peanuts out of his hair.

He offers you his hand, and you take it. He pulls you up and into his embrace. Holding you tightly for a moment and rocking you side to side. "I missed you when you were gone." He burries his face in your neck, breathing in your scent and placing little kisses there.

A rumbling sound interupts your sweet little moment, and you look at him with a knowing smile. "You've forgotten to eat again, haven't you?" You say knowing full well once he gets going on a painting nothing can distract him. Not even his body's demands for food. He nods unashamed, it's not like this is the first time he's done this. "I made that spicy seafood pasta you like." You say turning from the room and drawing him with you by his hand. He pauses only to grab your dropped spoon.

Per your usual routine for meals, Rafayel has already gone to the cabinets to grab bowls, spoons, and glasses. Whoever made dinner would serve and the other would grab dishes and clean up.

"Anything interesting happen at work?" Rafayel asks pouring tea into the cups and setting them on the table. You think for a moment. "Not really, I only had a couple missions today. Wanderer activity is at a low point right now. We're not getting sent out as much." He nodded and pulled your chair out as you walked over with the bowls.

You lean in and reach up on your toes to give him a quick kiss before sitting down and then setting his bowl on the table across from you. He pushes your chair in and then walks around to pull out and sit in his own chair.

Rafayel took every chance he could to do something for you, even if it was just something as small as pulling you chair out, opening doors for you, or just holding your hand. He never failed to show courtesy and care. It was just one of the many things he did to show his love. Each gesture warmed your heart. At first these things surprised you but as the days had turned to weeks, then months, and finally a year, they felt familiar and part of your routine.

Dinner conversation is light and cheery, rambling about this and that. Rafayel manages to throw in light complaints about how mean Thomas is because he won't approve a ridiculous expedition (that is mildly dangerous) to aquire a color source. Did you mention artists, Rafayel in particular, were eccentric?

Your phone screen lights up with a notification. Tara's profile picture pops in. She's tagged you in something and her caption reads, 'I Challenge You!' Intrigued you grab it and unlock your phone to the post. It's a couple photo challenge.

Her addition to the post says, Hey girl, I saw this and thought it'd be perfect for you! I did it with my bf, it was so much fun. I Challenge you!

Below that it says Couple Photo Challenge and then a list;

1. Strike a pose on a date: (matching outfits a must)

2. Sweet Hug

3. At the aquarium

4. Silly shenanigans

5. Hands only

6. Dance on the beach

7. Swing together

8. Playfight in the water

9. Inseparable

You can see that the post has been reblogged almost five thousand times and has just as many comments. Tara has posted her photo series and it's cute. You laugh looking at her pictures, seeing that for the silly photo she and her boy friend had drawn on their faces with what looks like whipped cream.

"Rafayel, look at this. I want to do it!" You say excitedly showing him the post. He looks it over and he smiles. He often took pictures for his art but he was rarely the subject in his photos. "If you want to." He says easily agreeing to your request.

An idea strikes you as you read over the list again and you look at him with a sweet smile "No," he says catching that look on your face. "But I didn't even say anything!" You protest and start pouting. "I know that look, no." He says pointing an accusatory finger at you.

"It's for the silly photo." You mumble slipping deeper into pout mode. Your bottom lip juts out as you go into full sulk mode, knowing Rafayel can't stand up against the pouty face. He tries to look anywhere but at you, getting squirmy as usual. "D-don't do that." He says trying to maintain his position on not doing whatever your idea was. You tilt your head down and then look up at him though your lashes, a killer move.

He squirms more and seconds tick by. Any moment now. You think grining triumphantly in your head. His ears are bright red. A tell tale sign he's about to break. "Ugh, ok fine. What is it?" Your grin is visible now. "I'm going to regret this aren't I?" He mumbles with a sigh. "Let me take a pick of you in the box for our silly photo." You say as you get up and walk around the table. He's just pushed his chair back and you take the opportunity for further persuasion, and sit in his lap. Your hands hook behind his neck and his go to your hips automatically.

"No way, something else. Anything but that." He says not wanting everyone to see him playing in a box. "Aww come on. We'd have the best silly photo. No one could top it!" You knew Rafayel could be pretty (vary) competitive at times.

His face scrunched up and he looks over your shoulder instead. You grasp his cheeks and turn his head to face you. "Please?" You ask trying to coax him into it with little butterfly kisses on his face. "Ok, ok fine you win." He says finally and you squeal delighted. "You're the best!" You say giving him a bigger kiss. "Yeah, yeah whatever." He's frowning but you can tell his heart isn't behind it.

Over the next week and a half you and Rafayel drag Thomas all over the place to fulfill the requirements of each photo. He grumbles and complains about over time and how being your photographer isn't in his job description.

But as you look through all the possibilities, you decide that he did a great job. You pick out your favorites for each selection and show them to Rafayel.

"This one was a great idea", he says pointing at the one of the two of you at the gallery. The pose is silly, having you both standing with your legs apart and bodies tilted sideways towards each other. "Yeah, black was a great color choice. We really stand out against the background." You say sitting next to him on the couch.

"Oh, what do you think of this one? Thomas caught us mid twirl." You scroll to the beach dance one. The sun had started setting and there were dozens of little waves on the ocean behind you. "You like this one best too?" Rafayel says tucking you into his side as he pulls up the hug. You laugh and remember telling him to jump on you with a hug. "Yeah, it's so cute!" You giggle and scroll to the other ones.

"This one sure wasn't easy." You say pulling up the swing together category. "Yeah I still find it hard to believe we got up without falling." Somehow the two of you had gotten on one swing together. You're seated on his lap facing him and you'd even managed to actually swing. "The chains did dig into my thighs a bit though." You comment offhandedly.

"Thomas is a great shot, he managed to capture the pic just before I'd pulled you into the water." The playfight pictures were all silly. One of them had Rafayel picking you up and dunking you head first into the rushing waves on the beach. That was after you'd pulled him down into the water. "Let's do this one then." Rafayel agrees with your choice.

"Which categories are left?" He asks looking at the post on his phone as you scroll through the cameras memory.

"Uh, Inseparable, hands only, and at the aquarium." You say checking the ones that have been finalized. "Alright let's see." He takes the camera from you and goes to the next group of pictures. "I like this one, I think it's the best." The two of you are standing in front of the huge fish tank, back to the camera and leaning against eachother. You're pointing at one of the fish and his head is leaning against yours. "Yeah, ok that's the one then."

"Ooh let's do this one! It reminds me of the first pic we took together. Remember our first date and you wanted to stop by that photo booth? Haha you pouted so much when you realized I wasn't completing your hand heart and was just giving a thumbs up." You laugh as his pout is back again. "Yeah, yeah ok then. Inseparable is the last one."

This category had given you the most trouble. Trying to figure out what would best suit your idea of Inseparable. Rafayel had pointed it out easily. He always wanted to hug and touch you and you'd felt silly having tried to put so much thought into something that was very obvious to him.

"Let's go with the bear hug then." You agree looking at the choices. "Oog Tara is going to be so jealous, our pics are definitely the best! Everyone is going to love your box pic. It's so funny." You laugh at the pic again. One of two you had actually taken.

"Let's hurry and post it!" You jump up and drag Rafayel to the computer and hook up the camera to load the pictures.

You select the ones you wanted after they finish up loading and create the post and tag the original.

Couple Photo Challenge!! And then your series of pics. Just before posting you tag another member of Unicorns that you know is married.

Shortly after posting, the comments start rolling in. Tara is first. You laugh at her response and the huffy emoji she used. "I told you she was gonna be jealous!" You say leaning back into Rafayel and reading the comments. "A Stupid Kind of Wonderful." You mumble, looking at him and leaning in for a kiss.

****************************************************

I wanted to be extra nice to Rafayel because I've put him through the ringer with another story I posted and the emotional torture I'm about to give him in its continuation.

I wanted to write something mushy, and I hope you like it as much as I did writing it.

[ellatoone7]

Bad dreams (Alessia Russo x Ella Toone x Reader)

Warning: a little bit angsty at the start

You knew something was wrong, Alessia and Ella had been acting different for a while. Originally you thought maybe they were just stressed about the upcoming season.

Millie had moved out a few months ago, finally moving in with Rachel. The first few months of living with your girlfriends were amazing.

You were drowned with affection but that all slowly stopped, eating dinner was torture, with you just trying to fill the silence and ignore the growing pit in your stomach.

So you knew things were wrong when you got home after an audition to find them sitting in the kitchen with their heads down.

“Hey.” You greeted them like you always did, normally you accompany the greeting with a kiss but that hasn’t been happening much lately.

Like the new usual they didn’t respond, you barely talked to them anymore with their busy schedules and you being on set some days.

“It’s melting outside, I was dying in my trailer.” Again nothing, you busied yourself with making three cups of tea before Alessia finally spoke up.

“We need to talk.”

You froze placing your hands on the counter trying to ground yourself as you took a deep breath. You turned to look at them but they were staring straight ahead refusing to make eye contact with you.

“Okay.” You sat down in front of them feeling like a little kid about to be told off, you tried to reassure yourself but how could you when the two girls you love most haven’t even acknowledged your presence in weeks.

Ella was frozen, she hadn’t uttered a word and her hands were clasped tightly in for my of her as she stared down at the floor. Alessia had the decency to glance up at you for two second before regretting it and staring back down.

“We don’t think this is working.” You looked away, you knew it was coming but nothing could have prepared you for the string ache that burst through your heart.

“It’s not you-“ “Don’t you dare give me that bullshit!” Alessia nodded in shame, you laughed in shock, you never thought you’d be in this situation with them but here you are.

“I can’t fucking believe this…” You muttered desperately trying to control your emotions, you weren’t going to let them see you cry, not after this.

“So pWhat? That’s it? Your both fucking unbelievable!” Your mask was slipping and all the frustration you had bottled up the past few months was making its appearance.

“Look at me at least!” They didn’t budge, Ella had been frozen while Alessia gulped slightly still looking down, “[Y/N/N]-“ “Don’t call me that.”

Alessia’s jaw wobbled as she tried to contain her tears, she couldn’t even bring herself to look at you. Ella gently grabbed her best friends hand under the table to give her the support she needed.

“Look, this is a big season for us. United is expecting big things and we just can’t take any chances…” You scoff, eyes shining in unshed tears, “Fucking football. This is about football!”

“Oh my god…I’ve given up my whole fucking career for you!”

“I should’ve have fucking known not to get involved with football players.” A sob slips through as the reality hits you, leaving your home, your family, your friends, your job was for absolutely nothing.

“So this was the plan, huh? Lead me along until the silence gets too awkward for the two of you that you decide to finally put me out of my misery!” Tears are falling freely now as you can’t even try to stop them.

The question that’s been at the top of your tongue since they sat you down finally came out, “Did you ever fucking love me?”

Alessia bites her tongue, willing the tears to stay for a bit longer as she watches the girl she’s loved for years crumble because of her.

All she wants to do is pull you into an embrace and never let you go, take everything back and reassure you over and over that she loves you, that she’ll always love you.

Instead she stays quiet wincing at the tight hand wrapped in hers, tears drip onto the table as Ella goes through the same struggle.

The silence that follows your question will haunt you, realising the two girls that you never want to live without never even loved you will stay with you forever.

“You’re fucking cowards!” The room was suffocating, a house you once loved turning quickly into a nightmare.

You don’t even let them say anything not that they would’ve as you walk out the door, praying on a high god that maybe they’ll snap out of it and chase after you, whispering their apologies as they kiss you over and over.

But as you drive off, leaving basically your whole life behind you wonder what the hell you’ll do. Having no choice you called Leah, asking her could you stay with her for a couple days.

The next week Leah barged into your former home, Ella had barley moved from the couch. Staring at space you were when they ripped your heart out.

Alessia had tended to Ella, she figured if she just kept busy then her mind wouldn’t think of you, except for the fact that every single thing reminds her of you.

Alessia knew someone was bound to come and take all your stuff so she packed it away in boxes, it was the hardest thing she’s ever had to do in her life.

It took her hours to finish and she still hasn’t, sobbing quietly in what used to be your room as her heart ached was routine as she buried her face into your jumper.

She had asked Ella would she want to help but Ella has been a ghost of herself, never talks, barely eats and drinks and never moves from the couch.

Breaking up with you was so they could improve their football but it’s honestly gone the complete opposite way. They both had thought that football was the love of their life, nothing could ever beat it but this ache that never stops from you leaving has put a lot of things into perspective.

They have fucked up majorly and they are paying for it now, Leah doesn’t even look at them as she walks straight to your room grabbing the first box.

Alessia offers to help but the glare she gets is enough to have her staring back at the floor again. Ella doesn’t even move a muscle.

“Leah, please!” Alessia breaks at the silence, begging Leah to scream at them or hit them just so she can feel something other than the crushing guilt and heartbreak she has been feeling.

Leah doesn’t even acknowledge her as she comes in and out making quick work of the boxes, as she shuts the boot she doesn’t even give a second glance as she jumps back into the car.

Leah doesn’t get out the gate though as she slams the door closed, marching up to Alessia before giving her a shove. It’s not hard enough to make her fall but she does stumble back.

“I will never fucking forgive the two of you.” Alessia stares at Leah trying to convey the regret she feels, Leah just scoffs practically shaking from anger she bunches her fists tightly.

Alessia’s sure she’ll hit her but Leah has always been good at controlling herself, “She hasn’t fucking been able to get out of bed!” Alessia had never seen Leah so angry, the tears threatening to fall from the captains eyes as she glares at the blonde girl.

“I would give up my whole life for that girl!” Alessia finally hangs her head in shame as Leah continues to scream at her, “If you did it for football your fucking idiots. It’s really improved your performances, huh? Tooney can’t even get off the fucking couch!”

Alessia looks over her shoulder staring at the girl who’s been stuck there for months, “And you’re in fucking denial, mate!”

Everything that’s come out of Leah’s mouth had been true, Alessia thought she was going to pass out as Leah’s voice muffled, everything did go black but she didn’t think she passed out.

She tries to stand up but an arm around her stops her, “Lessi, stop moving!” Alessia’s heart stopped when she heard your voice, she frantically called your name over and over until you and Ella sat up and turned the light on.

“Whoa! Alessia, babe, calm down.” Alessia was so confused as she glanced between you and Ella, taking in her surroundings she realised where she was, in your shared room.

“I’m sorry, [Y/N] I’m sorry, I love you, I don’t care about football, I care about you! We made a mistake!” You and Ella stared at the girl like she had two heads.

“We!” Ella spoke up but you slapped her arm gently, “Less, what’s wrong?” Alessia just cups your jaw brining her forehead to yours as she sighs in relief.

It was just a nightmare.

“Bad dream.” She mumbles kissing you gently, Ella wraps a reassuring arm around her waist as your concern fades slightly.

“You wanna talk about it, Less?” She quickly nods and tells you and Ella all about Leah and the pure guilt she felt and how worried she was for Ella.

Ella repeatedly kissed both your cheeks in reassurance as Alessia finishes up, “Less…”

You pulling her into you as her shoulders slump, kissing her neck lightly as she breathes you in.

One hand is buried in your hair while the other is wrapped tightly up in your jumper, “I love you.” You glance at Ella who holds your hand tightly.

“I know, Less. I love you too.” As you gently lie back with Alessia’s face buried into your neck you nod at Ella to turn the lights off. Instantly regretting that though as Ella blindly tries to walk back to bed.

After an elbow to the face and five minutes of scolding Ella you finally settled down, Alessia tucked into your neck while Ella held you tightly.

Giving a light kiss behind your ear, “I love you too, ya know.” You giggle at the fake jealous tone in her voice, careful not to wake your other sleeping girlfriend you turn your head slightly to look at Ella.

She kisses your nose softly before finally claiming your lips, after getting your fill of kisses you turn back around, Ella’s arms giving you more comfort than ever.

A/n: These two actually give me life. Thank you so much for all your support it means the world to me!! Hope you’ve enjoyed these so far! Feel free to leave requests or tips! Have a great day!!! ❤️‍🔥

[sullustangin]

Fluffy February Day 25: Kiss

SWTOR

Time: KotFE, vaguely

Words: 753

~~

Good morning kisses were an interesting concept, for Theron.

Master Zho referred to him as his son and hugged him, regularly.  Good morning kisses were not part of that dynamic.

When he was a child at Coronet City Military Academy, his caretakers did not give that sort of affection to him.  It was not appropriate. 

When he lived on Coruscant, on his own, Theron typically didn’t let his partner stay overnight.  He had too many contacts that would call at odd hours and too much high-security technology in his apartment… he didn’t want someone stumbling across it or having a high-priority emergency that a civilian should not see.

Theron typically left their place before morning came.  He had to get back to his apartment and make sure he did not miss anything.  He’d leave a note or order them caf and breakfast that would be delivered to their place whenever they woke up.  He wouldn’t be there.

There were exceptions, but good morning kisses were few and far between for him.  He didn’t think he was into them anyway.  Attachments, and all that.

Life on Odessen was a real change.

Theron learned he was wrong about himself, in a few areas.

Because Theron did sleep over regularly – almost constantly – on Virtue’s Thief.  And Eva was running on her own automated chrono.  She’d wake up, kiss him (awake or not), set the caf to percolate, then crawl back into bed with him.  When he finally did stir awake, she’d beg, borrow, and steal kisses off him at every opportunity. 

And he really, really liked that.

Even when he really did just sleep over.  Even when sex wasn’t the purpose or motivator or the excuse for spending the night.

The casual affection – freely given, when in private.

The small weight of touches.

Of cups of tea or caf served in silence.

The way their limbs brushed against each other in bed as they settled in for the night. 

And then the buss in the morning, drifted over a cheekbone lazily on a slow day…

… or hastily left at the corner of the mouth because someone had overslept and needed to get to the opposite side of the base, a.s.a.p., so they wouldn’t look suspicious, coming from the same direction.

Initially, Theron always tried to wake before dawn and sneak back to his room.  That wasn’t about leaving Eva; that was avoiding the rest of the base sorting out they were a couple. 

He failed.  A lot.  He didn’t know what was wrong with him.  He was used to less than five hours of sleep a night; the implants made him hyperaware, and if he ate enough calories, he could power through.  That’s the way it always had been. 

…until he had to leave someone he didn’t want to, in order to get back to work.  Until he had to leave someone he didn’t need to, because she understood his job.  Always had, more so now that they were working together. 

And Eva caught him.  A lot.  So many years living on starship meant that every noise out of the ordinary on Virute’s Thief was a cause to stir and wake up.  That included his feet touching down on the floor and his belt rattling.  …and when she did catch him, she was very, very persuasive. 

It wasn’t always sex.  Sometimes, she just asked him not to leave her. 

…then he couldn’t do it. 

A convenient fiction was created:  the Captain met Theron Shan, operations manager, for caf every morning.  Bright and early.  It was partially for Theron’s sudden ineptitude at leaving his lover before good morning kisses… but it was also for Eva’s own slowness in the morning.  The carbonite and the lingering neuropathy slowed her down.

…but even after that resolved, Theron and Eva maintained the schedule.  They didn’t need to.  They wanted to.

And Theron, for his part, wanted his fair share of good morning kisses.  He apparently was owed a backlog, according to Eva.  She had done the math, on some boring day that Theron had put himself on mission.  He’d arrived home to Odessen, then snuck aboard her ship only to find elaborate charts with ratios indicating all the things he had missed out on for five years…

And a schedule to rectify the insufficiencies. 

On the milder end of her regiment was the good morning kisses quota. 

Theron absolutely loved that. 

Theron loved Eva.  Eva loved Theron.  It was mutual.  So were the good morning kisses, given and received.

[catinpinklace]

text me

Pairing : Kyle Gaz Garrick x gn!reader.

Summary : Gaz went to a coffee shop on his off duty day, and met someone that sparked his interest.

words : 1.2K

Warnings : f!reader in mind while writing. I’ve never been to London or a place where they have a winter season. I had to do a little research about it, apologise if there’s a mistake! 

A/N : I was listening to Snow on the beach - taylor swift ft. lana del rey, and Love - lana del rey while writing this :D

***

Gaz tied his boots, and stuffed his wallet inside his jacket’s pocket. He looked up at the sky, the weather was no different than usual winter weather. Grey sky and miserable. Putting his hands inside the pocket of his jacket, he then sighed. He was given 2 months off duty, and a week after being given the time off, he spent most of his time in his room, catching up on all the sleep he had missed, playing games with his little siblings, and had a short chat with his neighbour. His neighbour told him there’s a new cafe opened weeks ago that he should try. And today, he decided to give it a shot. He was bored anyway, and a fresh breath of air wouldn't hurt much.

His feet walked freely through London, with hands inside his pocket. He started to look around him, people were having a good time with someone on their side. He could see a father with his child, holding hands. A group of teenagers, laughing together, some wrapped their arm onto their friend's shoulder. A pair of lovers, holding hands to keep each other warm, sharing shy smiles and light kisses. He looked down for a second, a huff of white smoke coming out of his mouth. His boots were making prints on the white snow, the faint crunch filling his ears. He can’t help but wonder, will he have someone to share joy and grief together someday? Someone who will love him unconditionally? Does he even deserve that? He shook off those thoughts as he entered the cafe shop. 

***

The delicious sweet smell of cookies and pastries being baked welcomed him first. And bloody hell…the warm smile you gave as you welcomed him, made his cheeks warmed up a little. Shy smile creeped up as he fidgeted.

“Hello, what would you like to order?” your voice was as soft as the snow outside, and as warm as the goods being baked in the kitchen.

“Uhm…an earl grey tea would be nice,” he smiled, “and take out please.”

You nodded, drying your hand with a napkin, grabbing a cup and a marker. His eyes followed your every movement softly. This feeling is not new to him, but it’s been a very long time since the last time he felt it.

“Your name?” you asked him, smiling.

“What..?” his eyebrows went up a little at your question. He was too busy looking at you, to hear what you were saying. He hoped you didn't notice that.

You laughed lightly, “Your name, sir? So I can call you when the drink’s ready.”

A tingling sensation was filling his chest as your laugh entered his ears and brain. He would kill to hear that sound again. He cleared his throat, and straightened his posture.

“Oh…Kyle, Kyle Garrick,” he licked his lips, nervous.

You nodded again, writing his name on the cup. This cafe is owned by your family, and you’re always helping around if you’re available. After a few weeks of opening this cafe, you begin to feel familiar with a few faces, like the bearded man who always comes in with his child to order some bread and hot chocolate milk or the nice old lady who always gives some compliments. And this man is definitely a new face. He looked like he’s your age, maybe one or two years older than you. You noticed he has a few scars on his fidgeting hands, not too small, but big enough to be noticed.

Placing the cup on the counter, you looked up, just to find him already staring at you and throwing you off guard. You gulped and smiled, feeling hot all of a sudden.You find the man in front of you adorable; eyes gleaming and twinkling with adornment. This gorgeous man is staring at you, and it makes you nervous.

“Would you like something else?” you asked, voice almost cracking from nervousness.

“What would you recommend?” He leaned forward a little, to make himself look confident, but inside; he was as nervous as you are. And you know it.

So you started to copy his fake confidence. 

“Well, our red velvet and brownies here are a bestseller.” 

Leaning forward just a little, you propped your hand on the counter. Your sweet smile and soft eye contact. All of it made Gaz gulped. But then he showed his best smile, refusing to be intimidated by your beauty.

“I’ll take that then,” he smiled. “Red velvet and brownies, please.”

“Coming right up, Kyle.” You wink.

You left to do your stuff, leaving Gaz standing alone. He felt like a high schooler that just hit puberty. The feelings won’t go away everytime he glances at you. A tiny smile creeped up his face, but faltered then faded away as the thought of you having a lover entered his mind.

There’s no way you’re single.

Are you..?

He glanced at you again. The question repeated in his mind, like an old cassette. Should he ask? That would be weird. He just met you a few minutes ago. Maybe he should start with your number? That would be a good start—

“...Kyle? Earth to Kyle?” you waved your hand in front of his face.

“Oh, sorry!” he flinched a little, pressing his lips into a thin line.

“Don’t worry about it. Here is your order.” you gave him his order.

“Thanks..”

He quickly paid for his order and gave a small nod to you. He slowly turned his body and took slow steps towards the door. Then the question entered his mind again. Should he? Would you reject him? That would be embarrassing. The thought of it made him squirm.

“Kyle!”

His whole body spun as soon as he heard you called out his name. You were grinning, head tilted to the side, body leaning forward.

“Yeah?” he answered.

“Come back soon, if you’re not busy.” you grinned.

The warm lighting of the cafe made you look much more unreal, he swore his heart skipped a beat there. He let out a shaky breath, and nodded.

“Will do. Have a good evening!”

***

Gaz shook his head, making tiny specks of snow flying everywhere. Putting his order on the table, he then took a seat. His forearm covers his eyes as he recalled his interaction with you earlier. He should’ve asked for your number, but he has no guts to do so.

Groaning, he opened up his paper bag, picking up his brownies. As he picked up the brownies, a piece of paper with a writing fell. His eyebrows narrowed.What was that?

He took the paper, and read what was written in it. His smile bloomed as soon as he realised what he was holding.

It was your number. A scribble of ‘text me :)’ written under it.

[riken-leather-co]

Bapzo Propaganda | Day 17: Touch Aversion |

The Shimada’s had never been the most affectionate family. Of course, if he’d done well he’d earn words of praise. When Hanzo was younger he’d sneak out with his brother and as he got older it dwindled until eventually he went out no more. But, they didn’t have ‘family time’ he’d often see in the media during his times of isolation. There were no freely given hugs or kisses. The last important ‘touches’ he remembered was holding his fathers cold hand and Genji’s broken and bleeding body.

During his ten years of isolation, touch was the last thing on his mind. It was his quest for redemption after all. Not that there was even a chance for him to entertain such thoughts. His family frequently sent assassins after him and with everyone his paranoia grew. How could he allow someone close when there was a chance they were one of them? When they could attempt to stab him or slip something into his tea? When his brother was long gone and could hold no one himself? Even after the assassins dwindled and stopped, Hanzo remained vigilant.

Hanzo hadn’t realized how unused to touch he’d become until he joined Overwatch. Even then, he hadn’t realized for a long while. Because, besides being a brother-killer, Hanzo was generally unsociable. He was rude, pessimistic, and blunt - all things he’d heard the others describe him as. So, they avoided him generally, which was fine by him. Or, maybe, Hanzo avoided them in equal measures. Something he hadn’t realized he was doing, initially.

“You’re a hard man to get a hold of, you know?”

Hanzo froze. The kitchen was dark and, he had assumed, unoccupied. It was roughly 3 am and Hanzo had been unable to sleep. Slowly he turned around, the fridge still open behind him. A man - whom he recognized vaguely as Baptiste - stood there in pajamas. He yawned into his hand, flicked on the light, and trudged past Hanzo to begin preparing coffee.

“...Am I?” he asked, after a moment's hesitation on whether to escape or not. But, Hanzo needed a cup of tea to even have a chance of sleeping.

“Your brother calls you a hermit crab. And I find myself agreeing. I think I have seen you…three times?” Baptiste set the coffee on to brew. Hanzo made the motions of preparing his tea, oddly aware of how close they were the entire time. “Not that that’s a bad thing, of course! Is there a way we can make you more comfortable?”

“I am not uncomfortable.” Hanzo said, and the conversation was left at that.

After that, he tried to make an effort to not actively avoid human interaction, at the very least. Hanzo was a lone wolf. But, he realized that he was now a part of a team and if it would redeem himself even slightly, he’d try and be better at working as a team. Not that he had to try that hard. After that little interaction, Baptiste seemed to make more of an effort to include Hanzo in group activities. They never seemed to be that big or loud - as if he knew Hanzo would refuse to show up if that was the case. Which he did for a few, and he was glad that no one hunted him down to force him to join.

Not being forced to join seemed to help. He found himself gradually coming out more without the added stress or expectations. No one said anything about it. But, he did notice how his brother would light up a little and a thumbs up Baptiste threw his way once or twice. Hanzo found that for the most part he didn’t dislike it. Unless Reinhardt was around, the man was too loud for his liking and took less social cues then Hanzo himself.

Getting used to company didn’t mean he’d gotten used to touch, however. Which made itself evident when Baptiste put an arm on his shoulder and Hanzo shoved him away. Which causes Baptiste to fall into a table. Which caused the others to stare at them. Which causes Hanzo to flee in mortification.

Foolish. What man acts so irrationally because someone touched their shoulder? ‘He shouldn’t have touched me in the first place,’ another part of him whispered. Hanzo dismissed it. Even if he shouldn’t have, Hanzo should have been able to take such a simple touch. What was wrong with him?

“Hanzo?” A knock on the door, Baptiste’s voice.

“Go away.”

“I will, I will.” Hanzo could practically imagine Baptiste holding up his hands through the door. “I just wanted to apologize for touching you.”

Apologize? For touching him? When Hanzo had proceeded to shove him into a table? Hanzo stared at the door in confusion which transferred into irritation. Here he was the one at fault and Baptiste insists on apologizing like it’s his own. He’s unsure if his irritation is at himself or the man in question.

Hanzo opened the door - much to Baptiste’s surprise, judging by his face. “You are an idiot.”

“...Thanks?”

“I should be the one apologizing for shoving you.” Hanzo said. He huffed then bowed, “I should not have reacted in such a manner.”

“No - really it’s fine - I shouldn’t have touched you. I know you hate being touched and all.”

“I…do not hate being touched.”

“Really?” Baptiste raised a brow. “You always seem keenly aware of how close or far away from others you are though.”

“....I am unused to it,” he muttered. “It does not mean I hate it.”

“I see.” They both stood there for a moment. He watched Baptiste frown and glance away, something Hanzo had come to realize he was debating something. “...Can I touch you right now?”

Hanzo hesitated. “How so?”

“Just holding your hand,” Baptiste said. When Hanzo nodded his head, Baptiste slowly reached out and grabbed Hanzo’s hand. He held it loosely, in case Hanzo wanted to break away.

The touch was warm. And, despite his initial reaction to immediately pull away, Hanzo forced himself to remain still. He breathed in through his nose and stared. He doesn’t know why he’d expected it to hurt, but he did, and it didn’t. Hanzo’s hand trembled a little before he grasped Baptiste’s hand back.

“This alright?”

“...Its fine,” Hanzo muttered. Despite his words he made no move to pull his hand away.

“I’ll be your guinea pig when it comes to getting used to touch, if you want.” Baptiste said. Hanzo looked back up and saw the man grinning. “We can hold hands just like this.”

Hanzo didn’t want to flinch at little casual touches forever, he supposed. It was embarrassing, in his eyes, even if the others didn’t seem to mind it. He cleared his throat and looked away while squeezing Baptiste’s hand again.

“...I’d like that.”

[gravessyard]

Its like a reward

Notes from the crypt: surprise, another Childe post! This one is pretty smut heavy so if it doesnt get attention I will cry, its like 4am so I'll be cross posting this on ao3 later x_x

Tags: GN!Vampire!Reader, sub!Childe, fingering (male receiving), blood sucking

Summary: you take care of your sick harbinger, which leads to something hot and heavy

Childe sneezes loudly, no doubt hard enough to wrack his entire body while he shivered in the layers of blankets you had him wrapped in. It was a rare occurrence that the harbinger gets sick, though not impossible given that the current 11th was sitting in your bed fighting a cold. You were in the kitchen preparing him a mug of tea using the medicinal herbs you acquired from Doctor Baizhu, as Childe had given you quite the scare last night when he was suddenly at your door during a downpour. He was bloody and freezing, enough to rival your own sickly cold skin while you rushed him inside, peeling off the layers of his soaked clothes to leave a wet trail leading to the bathroom, where you prepared him a warm bath to bring his temperature back up. You spent the rest of the night with him there, stitching his deeper wounds closed while he tells you of the fights he just finished, a sick prideful smile on his face. You acknowledge his every victory, you knew he was a formidable fighter that can hold his own yet you still cant fight the surge of worry when he seeks you out to patch him up. To see his skin littered with so many wounds while he's happily boasting like he just hit the jackpot was a little unsettling, but much like your relationship with him, its a two way street. You've had your fair share of seeking him out for his blood when you've pushed yourself too far, often too caught up in commissions or helping the traveler during their adventures in Liyue. While sunlight isnt exactly the best for you, you've managed to find ways to be able to safely travel the lands even when the sun's at its highest peak. During your thousands of years of undead living, you've learned that adequately covering up skin at risk to exposure helps a lot, so that was your main method alongside using the shadows to get from place to place, it wasnt until you've gained and nursed a budding friendship with the former geo archon that he finally gave you a long time solution to your issues; a rare sunstone that was in possession of the adepti. It was a gift for your many years of companionship with Rex Lapis, who placed immense trust in you after you placed your own life in his hands and fought by his side during the archon war. His gift ironically gave you new life, as you were able to freely step outside without worrying about burning to a crisp, yet some habits die hard since you still often leave your abode covered head to toe.

A pitiful whine of your name broke your reminiscing, and with a smile growing on your face you brought the cup of tea to your sickly lover. "Its still a little hot, so be careful", you coo at him, handing him the still steaming cup that he gratefully takes and blows on. You watch him, finding it cute that his nose and cheeks are flushed red from his sickness yet his skin looks pale in comparison, just a few hours ago he was boasting and bragging about his kills yet now he's overpowered by a cold, gingerly sipping on tea that was still a little too hot for his tongue, given the hiss he just let out. You take the cup from him, setting it aside before leaning over him, tilting his chin up so you could attempt to press your lips against his. Attempt being the key word as when you leaned closer, he pressed his hands to your mouth, brows furrowing. "Nuh-uh, no way am I letting you kiss me and catch this nasty cold", he sounds nasally and congested, from the proximity you can see the thin sheen of sweat on his forehead. Deadpanned, you remove his hands from your mouth before you grip his chin a little tighter, piercing eyes rendering him stunned in your hold. "Im dead, Ajax. Your mortal illnesses will not affect a body that has no beating heart", you notice the way he flinches when you mention you're dead, its a grim reminder that even though you are standing before him breathing like a living being should, its really just for show. He learned to ignore how cold your skin is, how you never really needed to eat human food but still did because it made him comfortable, just as how breathing let him know you were still with him, even if your heart no longer beats. It was a habit you picked up early in your relationship, one evening you were dozing off with Childe after an intense cuddling session and the poor thing ended up with a nightmare, so when he jolted awake to see that you werent breathing he assumed the worst, you ended up being startled awake by his shaking and yelling. You can still remember the tears in his eyes when he realizes that you werent actually dead dead, and made a mental promise to act a little more lively for him.

"Well, still... I'm gross", he sniffled as if to emphasize his point, cheeks flushing even more when you chuckled, thumb rubbing against his bottom lip. The small gesture made his jaw slack, and you took the opportunity to pounce, lips crashing against the hydro allogene's to slip your tongue into his mouth. He moaned against you, hands gripping the bottom of your shirt while you take his breath away, tongues sliding against each other that makes the harbinger melt. Even your tongue was cold, which brought little solice to the burn his tongue sustained from the herbal tea, the beverage slowly cooling on your bedside table while you coaxed him into a laying position, hands making quick work of pulling the blankets apart to expose him to you. You pull away briefly, allowing him a moment to breath since his sinuses were currently clogged but your lips quickly found their place on his neck, placing open mouth kisses that has him shivering underneath you. Its hard to tell whether its from desire, from being cold or just from being sick but the way he tilts his head to give you more access is a reassuring sign that he's eating up what you're dishing out. In a sort of animalistic way you run your fangs along his neck and his pants grow heavier, his grip finding your biceps to hold on in anticipation of whats to come next, or what he wants to come next. You chuckle low at the pathetic whine he breathes when you continue to kiss and nip at his skin, moving from his jugular to his collarbone after pulling his shirt collar to the side. "As far as you're concerned, you taste just fine", you murmur against his skin, feeling another shudder tear through him.

"The tea should be cool enough by now, drink it all okay?", you lift yourself suddenly from him, leaving him frozen. "H-Hey! You can't just leave me like this!", he yelps, sitting up and motioning to the very obvious erection he's sprouted. You shoot him an amused look, pushing the cup of lukewarm tea back into his hands before your fingers found their way into the back of his hair and you tug hard, pulling his head back so he's looking up at you. He gasps, you can hear the cup rattle against the saucer as he fights not to spill a drop, its a fight he's using all his strength to use even after you press a knee against his aching bulge, making him moan out loud just for you. "Only good boys who drink all of their medicine get rewarded, are you a good boy, Tartaglia?", you whisper in his ear, using your free hand to steady the cup thats dangerously close to spilling. Childe chokes back another moan when you press harder against him, adding pain to the pleasure that he's desperate for even in his weakened state. "I-I'm a good boy", he shakily breathes out, forcing himself to swallow a whine when you pull yourself away from him and pat his head lovingly.

"Good, now drink up", you run your fingers along his cheek, smirking when he nuzzles into your palm with a nod and got to work on drinking his medicine. Truth be told it was awful, no amount of qingxin or sweet flowers could mask the bitterness that were the herbs used to brew it, so you knew you needed a little incentive to get him to finish the whole cup. He scrunches his face as he drinks, tears pooling in the corners of his eyes and for a moment you felt guilty for making him drink such a concoction, but you cant go against doctor's orders. You keep a finger against the bottom of the cup, pushing lightly in hopes he'll just drink it faster and get it over with since he's giving you the most kicked puppy look you've ever seen. Just as he's about to finish the last drop he chokes, breaking out into a coughing fit that has you quickly setting the empty cup aside and patting his back reassuringly, whispering praises in his ear. You lay him back down after he recovers, pausing when he begins unbuttoning his shirt. "What are you doing?", you tilt your head curiously, eyes growing wide when he meets your gaze with a determined look in his blue orbs. "What's it look like? Im getting my reward", he flashes you a smirk, pulling his unbuttoned shirt apart to expose his chest before he gets to work on undoing his pants, expertly pulling them and his underwear off in record time. You couldn't help but laugh at his tenacity, spreading his legs so you could press your clothed hips against him and moving your head to his neck so you can resume pressing kisses to his hot skin. He's back to shivering with obvious desire, grinding his hips against yours while his hands find their way to your hair. You can never get enough of his whimpering or how he lays vulnerable before you, for a split second you get a feeling of deja-vu in how he fully trusts you with his life the same way you trusted yours to Rex Lapis. You wrap your fingers around his neglected cock, making him jolt beneath you with a broken moan, shocks of raw pleasure coursing through his veins. Lazily you move your wrist, pumping him slowly while directing all of your attention to his neck and chest, sucking on sweat coated skin to leave marks that are a stark contrast to his pale complexion, you made sure to leave plenty that couldnt be hidden by his shirt. He's a symphony of sin, crying your name like you're a god and he's but a lowly blasphemer who gave into temptation.

"P-Please..! Hah~ M-More", he bucks his hips into your grip, a mistake he soon learns he's made as he sobs out in desperation when you move your hand from his cock to his hip, pinning him in place. He can feel your growl against his neck, a warning that he knows better than to challenge while he sniffles and whispers out begging pleas to touch him more, he needs more please just touch him. In an effort to shut him up, you move your hand from his hip to his lips, pushing two digits into his pleading mouth to press against his tongue. His eyes flutter closed, hips obediently staying still while you thrust your fingers in his mouth, he can taste his own precum on you and it makes him lap it all up, thoroughly coating your fingers in his spit. His tongue follows your hand when you remove your fingers, a small trickle of drool rolling down his chin when you align your fingers against his twitching hole, teasing his rim just to hear him whine with a smirk on your face. He throws his head back with a groan when you push a finger in, eyes never leaving his face to gauge his reaction when you push a little deeper and curl, drinking up his addictive moans. You add the second finger in, curling and prodding at his soft insides to search for the spot that will make him no doubt scream, you know you're getting close when his back starts to arch and his hips begin to twist to help you find what you're looking for. "Ah! Fuck~ right there!", he cries out when you push against the bundle of nerves, his back arching beautifully while you finger him more roughly, pistoning against his sweet spot. His screams are like fine wine, delectable and intoxicating, it makes your fangs ache for a taste of him.

"Ajax... may I feed?" You pant against his ear, pressing kisses against his skin, unable to get enough of him. Childe could only nod, his voice too busy expressing the pleasure he's emersed in, the way you're splitting him open with just your fingers is making his head spin, he's drunk off you and yet he wants more. He screams out in a mix of pain and pleasure when you sink your fangs into his neck, barely getting a mouthful of blood before he's cumming, spasming underneath you while he coats his abs with white. You finger him through his orgasm until he's twitching and panting, whining softly as you pull out. Still latched onto his neck you're drinking from him slowly, his soft, raspy moans becoming louder when you grab onto his sensitive cock, twisting your wrist the way you knew he liked and rubbing your thumb along the head. "W-Wait — Ah! T-Too much", his eyes roll back against his head, overcome with the intensity of pleasure, he didnt even notice you had detached yourself from his neck until hes tasting the blood thats coating your tongue. The metal taste has him shuddering, pulling you closer so he can taste himself on you, his second orgasm hitting him harder than the first and he's crying out against your lips, tears rolling down his cheeks and white coating your hand. He's fighting against exhaustion, eyelids droopy and fingers lazily playing with your hair, you smile at how soft he looks before you gently pry him off and move to the bathroom to wet a rag, returning to clean up the cum and blood that sticks to his skin.

"Mmh... sleep with me", he mumbles, weakly grabbing your wrist to urge you into bed with him. You chuckle, pressing a kiss to the crown of his head and set the rag aside so you could clamber into bed beside him, a round of cuddles is in order. You wrap the blankets back around him, making sure he's nice and warm before you're hugging your newly blanketed Childe-burrito, singing praises in your velvety voice that has him falling asleep in minutes, you follow suit not long after, holding your beloved close. Childe will remember to return his reward to you as thanks for taking care of him.

Epitaph: You can also find this piece on AO3. I've been doing a lot more mobile posts, I find its easier that way. One of the major cons to it however is that I find myself writing into the early morning, which absolutely ruins my sleep schedule ahaha;; anyway, tumblr bls be nice to this post I worked real hard on it (;Д;)

[sanders1665]

A warm fire burned slowly in the hearth,

Darjeeling tea was brewing in the pot,

a dead King was singing about a blue Christmas,

a mother of six sons sat in her armchair,

a coal fires flames danced in her eyes,

we knew that possessed stare,

engrossed in a time of long ago....before we were born,

plaintiff winds of Winter howled thru the trees,

a tearful memory slipped down her cheek.

"A penny for your thoughts", the father of six said,

his muscled arms full of tattoos and heroic tales,

"The Grim Reaper has planted a poisoned seed",

her words silenced the howling winds,

the tea suddenly tasted bitter,

in the distance of that old gloomy town,

we could hear the footsteps of an unwelcome fate.

A year of cold and wet seasons pursued their unbiased cycle,

a fireplace tried to give its warmth to the room,

a kettle continued its whistle for the tea pot,

the King sang about a fair moving on,

a mother of six sons were becoming men,

the armchair surrounded her delicate and weak body,

but her eyes still danced with the flames from the fire,

she continued to stare with a knowing smile,

content with the sons she had given life to,

the winds still cried to the trees outside,

another tear stroked her cheek and fell on her heart.

"Every penny I have for your thoughts", the father of six men said,

his tattooed and muscled arms barely holding his family together,

"The seed is near full bloom now, its almost time for his harvest",

her words sent the winds screaming in agony,

at the end of the street of that old gloomy town,

ominous footfalls could be heard getting closer.

Another cold and desolate Winter was almost over,

the blackened fireplace had embers gasping for fuel,

a kettles whistle faded and ignored the tea pot,

a long ago King was preparing his swan song,

six sons sat around a fire that gave no warmth,

her favorite armchair cradled her diminished body,

yet, her eyes sparkled with love and hope for her children,

our eyes glistened with memories and the dreadful knowing,

a soft breeze whispered goodbye to the trees without leaves,

tears flowed freely down our flushed cheeks and onto our heavy hearts.

"Everything I have for your thoughts", a weeping father of six weeping sons said,

the hands of his tattooed and muscled arms visibly shaking,

"Just a kiss and let the harvester of souls plant me in a new garden",

the embers of the fire gave a final glow,

cups of tea had long gone cold on the table,

a palpable silent stillness could be felt all round the room,

a final tear escaped and moved ominous and slow to her heart,

footsteps were heard outside the front door and an ominous knock,

she smiled and sighed one last time,

and Elvis sang Don't Cry Daddy.

[foreverinthepagesofhistoryy]

Takes place directly after chapter 5. I had so much fun writing the vologarian royal family dynamic, definitely a very interesting writing process. Much love as always❤️ I hope you enjoy!

"I really do wonder if you'd rather spend your holiday with the Borbóns over your poor old mother" was the sentence that Alix made out as she held her phone against her ear, hands folding her clothes neatly and piling them in her overnight bag.

Alix allowed herself to laugh at her mothers comment, although it was as truthful as anything that had ever come out of her mothers mouth.

If given the choice the vologarian princess wouldn't hesitate to choose the Borbóns over her family. The Borbón's had made her feel more welcomed than her family ever had. Felipe was caring and loving, he was kind and just. Letizia was more motherly than her own mother. In an almost over coddling way. The minute Alix had stepped inside the Spanish royals home Letizia had bear hugged the girl. Alix had gone rigid, she wasn't use to this type of affection.

Excessively given, freely so to speak. Perhaps that was why she was drawn to Leonor. Leonor with her big heart and constant need for skin to skin contact.

Being with the Spanish royals had opened the green eyed girls eyes. She witnessed new concepts, a new way of life. Her family loved her, she knew that. There were hugs and kisses, laughter and joy. But not in the most recent years. Her grandfather King Cyril I passed ten years ago, her father took the throne. And suddenly the pressure was on. Her mother expected more from her children, the futures of the vologarian monarchy.

Alix could just imagine her mother. Sitting in the drawing room, a cup of dangerously scalding tea in hand, blonde honey waves looking effortlessly as she stirred her tea. The spitting image of Peter. It was funny, Alix could remember staring at her mother when she was a child, light green hues taking in every inch of her mothers features. She looked nothing like her. No hint, not one line or slope that was even the tiniest bit familiar. It use to taunt her.

Her friends in her year would ask "why do you look different?" 'You don't look anything like your mother'. Or even her father. Alix with her dark raven hair and pale cheeks, eyes that were woven with choruses of green thread. Her small freckles that littered her cheeks. All of it was so unvologaraian. So in royal that even her own grandmother had been so surprised when she first laid eyes on Alix. "Oh dear Cyril! She doesn't look a thing like you, or Catherine".

Alix could imagine her mothers pensive blonde brows, her perfectly straight teeth set in agitation as she spoke to her. Knowing her mother she always had something up her sleeve, some harsh words just waiting to come out.

"Now mama.. please" Alix spoke, "you know I love our holidays together. I also happen to be a very big Spanish admirer as of late"

She could hear her mothers "mmmph' followed by her notorious "I've noticed".

The words made the green eyed girl halt.

How Alix hated those words. Ever since infancy those words had been engrained inside her mind , replaying over and over again like a broken tape in need of repair. At first it was the little things. Forgetting her bright blue bows that went with her school uniform. The day would pass and right as Alix would sit down for daily supper, fighting Peter for the first serving of bread, amusing the servants no doubt but not her mother. Her mother would only clear her throat, a warning if anything.

She Would look down at her two children, crease those bright yellowed brows and angle her grey blue hues, speak, "children do not scrounge nor fight for food. Sit back both of you".

And both children would sit down, Peter dropping the fresh bread from his ten year old clutches and sitting down, eyes filled with annoyance, not seeming to take the reprimand with much thought.

Alix would sit straight in her chair, check her posture, lay her hands deliberately on her lap and twist her ankles together like a proper good princess.

Then came the words.

"I've noticed you've neglected your bows from your uniform Ali. If this were the first time then I would see fit to not address it but I've been told this has been going on for quite some time. Please see you remember your bows. Forgetfulness and neglect is not a sign of royalty my dear"

"I've just been noticing you've gotten awfully close with that Adelaide Adelstein. Are you sure it's just friendship on your mind?"

“Why don't you dance with Franz Adbrechtz? It will give the papers something to notice other than your clandestine interactions with the young women in the crowds today. My goodness even Peter doesn't get the crowds you do".

"I wish you would stop your fencing! Such an unladylike sport! What if your husband notices when you march out of the nursery to spar?"

Alix could still hear her fourteen year old self, Jade green eyes holding so much confidence and control in them as she had eyed her mother. Jaw set, Peale green eyes looking into her mothers glacial eyes.

"I believe when or if I choose a husband he will allow me the time to fence. Or I should say she will. Goodness imagine not having a wife that would allow me to fence?".

She could still see her mothers eyes. Wide and shocked that Alix would even consider saying such words. Not that her mother held any ill feelings towards others like Alix, it was just "not right for our image dear". For her image she would clarify. For the Monarchies image.

Her mothers voice brought Alix out or her buried thoughts, and the girl spoke again, stuttering as she held her phone to her.

"I'm sorry mama could you repeat that again?"

She was instantly met with her mothers rough vologarian tongue, loud and brash in her ears.

Waking her up from her peaceful spanish atmosphere where the air was warm and Leonor would cuddle her to sleep every night before departing with a soft press of lips to her cheeks.

It was as refreshing as the frozen lake outside the palace that Peter would dare her to dive in as children.

"Konzentriere dich auf Alix! Eine Prinzessin sollte immer konzentriert sein! Meine Güte, ich habe dir mein Herz ausgeschüttet und doch hast du nichts davon gehört!"

'Focus Alix! A princess should always be focused! My goodness I've been pouring out my heart out to you and yet you heard nothing!'

Her mother was usually not one to anger easily, she was a patient and a determined woman. She was clever and well thought. She would rather die than yell at her husband in fact she often gave the king the silent treatment till he would come crawling back, tail between his legs. The queen knew how to move about the board.

Alix halted her movements, her heart beating at her mothers rather loud outburst. She wanted to pry. To ask if she had another row with papa, if she was in a rather foul mood this morning but all that came out was her soft "Es tut mir zutiefst leid, Mama. Ich werde es in Zukunft versuchen" 'Deeply sorry mama. I shall try in the future'

Her mother was silent for some time, and Alix could imagine her mother. Forlorn and lonely in the big old palace. Nothing but the ticking clocks for company. She wondered why her mother had even married her father if she hadn't ever loved him. The true and abiding love that Alix had seen these past weeks with the borbons.

The small acts of compassion. The way Felipe would wait for Letizia, hold his hand out to her and kiss her hands firmly, as if he had never seen anything more beautiful.

Alix was learning a great deal about love. She was learning just how much it invaded her mind. She always served Leonor first, opening doors for her, pulling her chair out, and Leonor's favorite it seemed, sitting on the blondes lap and doing her make up.

That was love. And it hurt.. realizing her family didn't have that love.

"I'm sorry". Her mother was quick to say, her voice somewhat frantic, like she was hiding something.

Her mother always did use to stutter when she was lying. Even now the familiar way her mothers words wrapped around each other, the deceit in plain sight.

It made something fowl arise in Alix's stomach, the uncomfortable sensation of fear and anger swerving in her bowels.

"It's just I've been so lonely around here. I've-I've missed you'.

'She's lying' something in her hinted at.

Alix words were chosen carefully, well crafted. With her brows knitted and tongue between her teeth she spoke, testing her mothers deliberately false statement.

"And how can you be lonely mama when you've got

Peter with you? He's no doubt the caring son you raised".

Her mother struggled to answer, caught in the lie.

The sounds of her mothers stutters made the girls stomach plummet. In an instant the green eyed girl was on her feet, voice alert.

"Mama how can you be lonely if Peters there?".

Publish

She hated the desperation in her voice, the way she felt like a child again begging at her mothers feet for an ounce of affection. Begging for her mothers praise and soft smiles.

"Peter is often away these days. There is nothing here to keep him tethered" was her mothers cryptic message.

Like an enigma hard at work Alix tried to decipher it.

Had Peter not gone home the minute she had asked him too? Had he gone with his friends? Back to the No good group he had been spending time with till Alix had dragged him out by his coat pocket, stating a future king had no business with those vile people of standing.

Her heart thundered in her chest as she really pondered her mothers words. "There is nothing here to keep him tethered". What of duty? What of sacrifice? What of the deep abiding love for one's country, the real personal feelings only an heir could feel for their country?

What of the deep connection between nation and future monarch?

Alix's lips suddenly felt dry, and she could feel again the deep divide between her and her family, wide and deep like the ocean, the waves pulling her farther and farther apart with each wave.

"Has he gone back to his friends mama? You know how strongly I feel about the people he associates with. They bring nothing but shame and superiority that a future king does not need influencing him!

What has papa said? If papa knew-"

Her words were halted by her mothers tired voice, soft and calm, like her mother's determination had fizzled, a dying ember with its hollowed out light.

"He does. Your father. He knows about peter's struggles and his-failings.". The next words made Alix's heart beat slightly faster.

"I'm so glad you never grew out of that fighting phase. such a stubborn little creature you were . When you were born it was a burden. You would cry and cry, would wail for your father. He would pick you up and bounce you on his knee while he wrote letters to the prime minister." A soft chuckle on the other line.

"I remember that fire in your eyes my dear. That determination. It's protected you your whole life and I pray it will not fail now. Not when we need it the most".

Alix was about to ask why, to beg her mother to unveil whatever was causing her to act brash and so unlike her but she was met with resistance. A loud knock fell upon her door and once she gave the go ahead the door opened to reveal St. John, slightly flustered, eyes not meeting the young princess.

"Your royal highness the car is waiting. The king bids you to say goodbye."

The pensive girl nodded her head, waited for the door to close before she spoke again. Trying to use words that would reach her mother. 'You've never been able to reach her, what makes you think this is any different' were her thoughts.

Her head was throbbing, a terrible pain that had been brought on by her mother no doubt, the added stress of monarchal life taking its toll.

She wanted to ask just what was wrong, what was going on between her father and Peter. The heir and king relationship was often kept private, she had no need to know of their conversations. But now, she could feel the impending doom, the uncertainty that loomed in the air.

Clearing her throat Alix spoke, "Mama I must go. I am needed on the plane if I am going to reach Cardif by midnight. Mr Cruesoe stressed upon punctuality and I would hate to disappoint the man".

Her mothers tone was clipped, almost as if she had no emotion left to give. "Yes-yes. Of course. Have a safe flight Ali. We will talk soon".

Alix tried not to scoff at her mothers words, 'soon' what did that really mean? Usually in the context of her mothers words it meant weeks upon weeks. It was usually the princess herself who would have to ring her mother. Her father on the other hand made a point to call almost every day. Wether it was a second he could spare, he made it a point to forge a deep and abiding relationship with his daughter. At least one of her parents did.

Alix didn't even bother saying goodbye. All these emotions tumbled in her chest. Words and thoughts she would never utter. Uncertainty because of Peter's rash behavior, responsibility to her parents to be the better example, because according to her parents "Peter looks up to you dear". How hilarious that was, the younger sibling taking the reins.

Usually Alix wasn't bothered with that fact. It had been the way since infancy. Alix would try new things, Peter would follow. Alix would follow out the car first and greet the guests, Peter would follow.

Now it seemed to bite and scratch. It angered the girl beyond belief. Peter was growing up now and he could no longer use her. No longer prattle behind her like a lost puppy.

"Wow.. your room looks different when it's packed" was the soft words of the girl by the door.

Alix turned, expecting to see Leonor but was met by hazel eyes and a kind smile. After a month of staying with the Spanish royals it was true. Alix's books had been packed and her things taken out. The Spanish royals had done their usual outings, dinner at a restraunt and an outing to the cinema. Leonor had begged her father to let Alix come, but there was some things that couldn't be changed. Not even by the king himself. Felipe had been gracious about it, he had even sent out his personal advisor for some books in German for Alix to read while they were gone. He even had let Alix take Jan on his evening walk on the palace grounds. It was almost addicting how the Spaniards lived. Everything was calm and peaceful. Quiet. Everything was quiet.

"I've gotten quite use to the Spanish way of life. It will be hard getting back to my life. The life of a vologarian" Alix spoke as she hoisted her bags over her shoulder. Being vologarian was a privilege but it was also a stoic way of life. Vologarian's were known for their honest blunt behavior, and their stoic attitudes.

Sofia rolled her eyes as a bag fell, moving to help the girl as they both walked out side by side and out onto the driveway of the Prince's pavilion.

Sofia laughed, "you were only here for a month! I hardly think that qualifies you as a Spaniard Ali".

At the nickname Alix smiled, her dimples showing as she did. "I want to thank you and your family for all that you have done for me. My family holidays are often...cut short. They seem far gone now. it's been such a long while since my parents and Peter did a holiday like this"

Sofia quirked her brows, helping Alix put her baggage in the vologarian royal car, which was a brand that Sofa had never heard of before.

"Didn't you stay in skatchen over summer holiday?"

Alix scoffed, her words turning sour. "Oh yes. My mother stayed for a day and left for Paris.

Apparently there was a engagement she forgot she had booked on her agenda. My father stayed as long as he could, but that was only a week and Peter.. Peter's been difficult lately. So you can indeed see why I valued my time here with you. . Your family has been nothing but kind. I wish I could repay you".

Sofia's lips lifted into her infamous smirk, "oh trust me after having you here for a month Leonor is one minute away from pulling you out of the car and hiding you in her cupboard"

At that remark Alix couldn't help but chuckle. While it was true that the eldest Borbón wasn't quite happy that Alix was leaving, "leaving her" in her words exactly. once the words had been said Leonor had put on her brave face and accepted the truth.

They would see each other in just two short weeks.

"Leaving me in the wind are you?" At the all too familiar voice Alix turned, finding Leonor with her soft smile and pouty eyes.

Sofia only shook her head, "I'll give you two love birds some privacy."

Once Sofia had made her way inside Leonor moved to wrap her arms around the green eyed girl from behind. Strong lithe arms woven tightly around the green eyed girl.

Leonor's soft breathe tickled her ear.

Publish

"I'll only be gone a short while. Nothing to get upset about Nor" Alix spoke, moving out of the girls grip to brush some baby hairs out of Leonor's eyes, the soft strands feeling like silk underneath her fingertips.

The blonde chuckled, eyes moving down to Alix fingers which were woven with hers.

A deep expression pulled over Leonor's features. Her eyes holding so much thought in them.

"I understand we all have roles to play. I have mine.

Since infancy. You have yours." At this Leonor's eyes peered into Alix's.

"But I've never felt this way before. I've never loved anyone as I have you. Is it bad to want to feel selfish?

Even just for a second? Is it bad that I want to pluck you away from your family and give you a home with me? One where you won't have to go days on end without company other than servants? Without people to care for you? Is it bad that I want you near me every second?"

Leonor was close now, deep grey eyes watching Alix through her golden lashes, bodies suddenly pressed close together. Eyes trailing down to eye Alix's lips, not even bothering to hide the hooded way her eyes drunk her in.

The way Leonor had spoke, the yearning to have Alix near. It made her stomach flutter and her cheeks blush. It made her heart race. "careful now Leonor.

If you make that ask again I might actually take it as a proposal" came the almost shy yet confident voice of the volograd princess.

The words seemed to go out of one ear and into the other. Leonor's blue fractal hues still remained devoted to Alix's eyes, her soft green hues that were full of life and beauty. Leonor without thought moved to trace her soft fingers over Alix's cheeks, feeling the way the girls jawline felt against her fingers. Over her jaw and down to her neck, and Leonor didn't miss the way Alix's eyes fluttered and closed. Leaning into the girl's soft touch. So trusting and safe.

It was then that St. John came strutting round the car, ear piece in and looking very bit the loyal guard she had known since childhood.

Leonor pulled away her fingers, body still pressed against the girl, hands still clinging to the girls fingers, eyes almost looking scowl full at St. John, as if he had any control over her schedule. It was almost cute at how much Leonor pouted, how she clung to Alix, hands over her waist to pull her closer, yet so sweet and gentle.

St. John, ever the loyal man simply bowed politely to Leonor, "your royal highness". Before turning to Alix, not missing the way Leonor seemed to nuzzle closer, almost as if she was dreading the words, dreading when they would have to finally part.

"King Cyril has asked that we delay the trip to cardif.

It's urgent and Mr Cruesoe has already been notified. Your father is expecting you soon. We must depart"

Confusion settled in the pit of Alix's stomach. Her father wanted her home. For what? Her father almost never required a private audience?

It was only Leonor's soft determined voice that halted the chaos in her chest, "I'm sure it's nothing"

Saying goodbye to Leonor wasn't easy, she clung tight and hard. She dug her body close and seemed to hold on for far too long. She kissed her cheeks, her forehead, acting like a petulant child who was about to lose her favorite toy. It was almost amusing how different Leonor seemed when it came to her.

If Alix had her pick she would stay by Leonor's side.

Do anything the girl asked of her. How could that happen? That suddenly this person felt more like home than her own country? Her own family?

Letting go, leonor moved without warning, tugging Alix by her cheeks and pressing her lips against hers in a soft yet haste kiss, lithe fingers moving to graze the baby hairs of Alix's neck.

It made Alix dizzy and blood rise to her pale cheeks.

It made her knees weak and her fingers move to cup the girls jaw.

It was only till a soft clearing of the throat was heard and both girls flew off each other, Sofia stood behind them, hazel eyes only rolling her eyes in jest.

Amusement dancing in her eyes.

"Well looks like I cannot leave you two alone anymore" she joked.

Leonor shook her head, her eyes looking dazed and sheepish at being caught by her younger sister.

Alix eyed her watch on her wrist, "it's about that time. Father will be in an ill temper if I do not get there on time. Sofia, wonderful to have spent some time with you. Perhaps we can play a match of football...one where I win preferably" the joke seemed to make the infanta laugh because she pulled Alix into a hug, short and sweet.

“I believe that can be arranged. Although I don't believe I'll let you win"

Alix only swatted Sofia's shoulder, laughing when the girl playfully pushed her off.

Queen Letizia was next, taking the girl into a soft hug. The sort of motherly affection that Alix hadn't felt in years. It was comforting and seemed to quell most of her nerves.

"We were overjoyed to have you with us Alix. We hope we will have many coming years with you"

Alix smiled at that, blushing at the implication yet bowing her head in respect.

"I as well your majesty".

Felipe was the last to say goodbye, his tall stature loomed over hers, but his face was warm and held so much softness. His eyes were analytical as he peered at the girl, almost knowingly.

"If you ever need anything my dear, remember my door is always open."

Alix could feel the words hit her, and she smiled, gratitude in her words. "I cannot begin to thank you your majesty for your kindness and hospitality. I shall bear that in mind sir"

Turning Alix was met with the sight of Leonor. Her eyes were glossy yet she held a stoic face. Her small smile was enough to convince the green eyed girl that was separation was going to be equally felt between them both.

Alix's touch was soft as she clung to Leonor's fingers, brushing them with her fingers before bringing them to her lips.

"I shall see you in two weeks meine Leibe"

Leonor's cheeks blushed at the nickname and she smiled, bringing Alix into one final embrace.

Just the feel of Leonor's arms around her was enough to calm Alix's racing heart.

"Hurry back" the blonde uttered.

"You won't even notice me gone" were the words Alix spoke before she made her way into the car, waving one last time at the family who had won her heart.

As soon as the car door shut Alix could feel the atmosphere change. The way her eyes changed from those soft green hues to cold almost stoic eyes. Her posture changing and her hands on her lap.

"We should be reaching Volograd in four short hours your royal highness" St. John spoke as he sat across from the girl.

Four short hours. So much time. and yet so little.

❤️-🇪🇸

AAAAAH OMGGG THIS IS SO GOOD!!!

Like I literally feel for Alix. Having a familial environment just right out of her reach 😭

Thank you really for this amazing work and SORRY that this took SO long to answer!!

[mauvecherie-writes]

Stand By Me.

PAIRING: Lewis Hamilton x Black f!reader

SUMMARY: With you by his side, everything was easier to deal with. Part 5 of the Obsessed With You series. Series Masterlist.

WARNING: 18+ minors dni. fluff.

NOTE: Lewis hasn’t been on social media for over a month thus I do not know how he actually feels about the Abu Dhabi race so all of this is purely speculation so therefore please take what I say in this fic with a grain of salt.

WORD COUNT: 1.54K

December 12 2021.

Since that fateful day you have not left his side. Everything had aligned in his favour but the taste of corruption and money tainted the minds of the authorities. As much as he had put on a brave face for the cameras and the spectators alike, the man that had broken down in your arms in the privacy of your hotel room told you all that you needed to know.

Formula One had robbed what was the last of Lewis. Over the decades given to the sport. Given by blood, sweat and tears all amounted to this stolen moment. It was such a blow to the stomach that for people who knew it for what it was - took it very personally. Nobody more than him and you.

It was paramount that you kept social media away from him and as much as you both saw the unwavering support from his fans and other supporters of the sport alike, the hate and gaslighting that always quickly followed was the last thing that you needed.

The past month had been sombre but quite peaceful. The constant nagging thoughts of the FIA report were always lingering on both of your minds and Lewis had made it adamantly clear to you and Toto that his decision whether to return or not solely depended on the conclusion of the findings. This was something Lewis was coming to terms with but you slightly struggled with the idea.

This was never the way that you wanted him to retire from the sport that he so loved but he had been left so disillusioned to continue wholeheartedly. Formula One and Liberty Media had shown their true colours and he was going to act accordingly.

A week after his birthday and it was just the two of you, finally alone now that his family had gone back home. For days on end, the two of you would sit in your craft room with your beautiful doggo Roscoe. This had been therapeutic for the two of you, as you drew and worked on designs, Lewis would sit beside you, strumming on his guitar and from time to time would go onto write some music.

This time was no different, however you were on your own with Roscoe in between your crossed legs with his head on your chest as you tried to draw above his cradled head. Lewis was still sleeping therefore you were using the time to finish working on a dress that you had started a few hours ago.

You were so focused on your shading that Roscoe’s snoring did not register until he snorted which jerked his head. You giggled and leaned down to place a kiss on top of his head before continuing with your design piece.

- Lewis’s POV -

He woke up to see the side of your bed empty and it took him a while for his mind to pick up on the muffled music playing from down the hall. You were in the craft room, mostly drawing and the thought made him smile. After everything, you were still able to produce some of the most beautiful fashion masterpieces he’d ever seen. Such a privilege that he cherished dearly.

He got up from the bed and entered the bathroom. After quickly brushing his teeth, he hopped into the shower and washed the sleep from his body albeit lazily. Once he was finished with his hygiene routine, he got dressed in some comfortable green shorts and a long sleeved loose t-shirt. With one hand, he ran his finger through his braids and let them freely fall before he left the bedroom.

He instinctively knew that she hadn’t eaten so that led him to the kitchen first to make a halloumi breakfast sandwich and a cup of red berry tea. He made the same for himself but he opted for just some water instead. As he walked into the craft room, the sight in front of him made his heart swoon.

Roscoe was cuddled into your chest and you were drawing, dressed in nothing but one of his oversized hoodies. Your hair was safely secured in your brown silk bonnet. As he leaned against the door frame, he took the moment to admire your etherealness which never ceased to amaze him. The aroma of the food must have tickled your senses because you then raised your head and a lazy smile adorned your lips as you zeroed in on him.

“Morning handsome.” You greeted him as you set your sketchbook aside and laid Roscoe on his bed in the room.

“Morning beautiful.” He responded as he walked further into the room. He placed the tray of food down before sitting beside you with his back facing the wall in front of you but his head was turned to face yours. Your hand came to his face and the warmth of your palm made him close his eyes and embrace your touch. Your fingers softly traced his eyebrows before moving to outline his lips. Lewis took your hand and kissed the inside of your wrist.

He finally opened his eyes and saw you watching him with such a tender expression in your eyes. He used his other hand to bring your face closer to his and he pressed his forehead against yours. A giggle left your lips as he rubbed the tip of his nose on yours.

“You okay?” You asked him.

Such an ambiguous question but he knew what you were truly asking.

“How could I not be when I get to see you every morning?” He gave a genuine reply which brought a grin on your face. Your hands came to his face, the palms resting on his cheeks as your fingertips touched the roots of his braids as they were mere inches into his hair. You then brought his lips to yours as his thumb caressed your jawline. You deepened the kiss and Lewis sighed in content as he enjoyed the feel of your soft lips.

He could never get enough of them and each time you kissed, it felt like the very first time. Just as he felt you move to lean into him as the passion grew, he pulled away which caused you to pout.

“You need to eat.” He mumbled as he allowed you into his lap and placed his hands on your waist as yours went back to cup his face.

“I’m not hungry.” And before he could even refute, you claimed his lips once more and your eagerness into the kiss caused him to chuckle before he hugged you tighter into his torso. The physical feeling of your embrace caused him to be overcome with emotion. The past month had been one of the worst times for him mentally but having you with him eased the pain. There were many moments in your relationship where he concluded that you were the one for him and this moment further cemented how much he couldn’t live without you.

He withdrew again and the whine that escaped you caused him to softly laugh. He moved his hand from your back to your cheek and just held you as he looked into your eyes. Your eyes were dazzling with love. Love for him. You began to blush as he continued to watch you.

“What?” You questioned as you chewed on your bottom lip.

“Thank you.” He softly stated but drew some confusion on your face. “Thank you for being with me.” He clarified. “I don’t think I would have been able to cope but you made it easier for me and I love you even more for it.”

You smiled as you brought his lips closer and pecked them. “We’re in this together. There was no way I was letting you deal with this by yourself. We’re partners, we share our baggage and I understand more than anybody what you are going through. You’ve been strong, you’ve been resilient, even diplomatic but with me you’re allowed to be vulnerable and to let out all of the emotions that you can’t freely express. I’m your safe space and always will be if you let me.”

Your words caused tears to pinch behind his eyes and he softly blinked them away. He couldn’t bring you any closer but he wished he could.

“Always.” He agreed. “You’re it for me YN. I want you with me by my side forever.” He whispered. They sat there in each other’s arms listening to the sounds of your beating hearts beneath the soft loft music now playing. Just the two of you in your little cocoon of peace and solitude. It wasn’t until Roscoe woke up from his slumber and walked up to the tray that you realised the food was even there. The both of you began laughing as you watched Roscoe try and pull on the halloumi.

“Now we have to cook breakfast again.” Lewis commented.

“No, I’ll cook. I highly doubt you cooked that halloumi right.” You replied which caused him to gasp with a surprised Pikachu facial expression. You jumped out of his lap, laughing as you inched for the door as you knew the attack of tickles that was going to come.

@queenshikongo3​ @beautifullmelodyxx​ @my-rosegold-soul​ @felicity-x0​ @zeebee300​ @stronglikemusic​ @chaneajoyyy​ @melinda-january​ @olyvoyl​ @est1887​ @lewisdiary​ @royallyprincesslilly​ @sadthotsonlylove​ @brownsugarcoffy​ @soundingsirens44​ @kellhems​ @zaeydi​ @sewis-rights​ @kindan3rdy951​ @kijahslove​ @justinetheoreo @melthereader​ @im-unwell-babes​ @percysbiatch​ @winchwm​ @sj206260358​ @melodchoc

[bemylord]

ᴘʀᴀʏ ʜᴀʀᴅᴇʀ │ꜱᴀɴɢᴡᴏᴏ

synopsis: do you value your life? how much are you willing to pay to see your friend and family once again? sangwoo's basement is dark, scary and hardly anyone will know that there is a secret room in the house, so shout freely.

warnings: yandere!sangwoo, toxic relationship, tears, bondage, he makes you date him[?]

butler's remark: we all know who is this man, so don't expect something nice from him.

his devilishly annoying laugh is getting on your nerves - the way he scowls sitting on the stairs as no one won't run to help you.

he knows that fact better than you do, when you're attempting to scream for help. your eyes are swollen due to tears rolling down and your throat is aching for the pain as you were shouting out from hours of screaming - you do everything you can to make sure someone hears you.

he snorted meticulously, rising from the wooden staircase, slowly approaching you.

'i'm tired, would you mind calm down? i won't kill you, y/n.'

'you kidnapped me, sangwoo! it's enough, i won't be with you anymore!'

he tossed his head back, exhaling, listening to the hackneyed phrase you were repeating. what the hell? he was planning to have a calm and nice chat with you, but you're clearly not the kind of person who'd willingly to submit a man who wants to take over your body and mind, controlling you completely.

before you found yourself being in the dark, dusty place, your last response was:

'i am not your property or girlfriend, sangwoo, do me a favor - fuck off.'

next - dark. then - the basement. he was meticulously scrutinizing your sleepy face and body, as your condition could be described that way - wrinkles, birthmarks, skin irregularities - so perfect for him.

such a nice and cute girl who fell into the hands of a particularly unpleasant guy.

'i want you to be happy, y/n.'

'happy? with you? you were stalking me for five months and now i ended up being in your house as a victim.'

'you made me do that. if you were a good girl, i wouldn't do that.'

he cups your face with his hands, wiping away the tears that roll down your cheeks with hIs thumb. sangwoo's palms are cool, faintly scorching the skin as he caresses your cheeks.

you flinch as you feel his palms moving down to your neck as if his fingers are attempting to memorize what your skin feels like. your bare skin covers in goosebumps unconsciously - again, cold hands. he deftly ran his fingers along with the straps of your shirt as you practically jumped off the floor.

'shh, sweety, i'm nowhere the rapist you're imagining me to be.'

he kissed your forehead gently as if you could resist his attempts to kiss you. he took your chin, raise your head, making you staring into his brown eyes. he's amused by your appearance: eyes red and swollen, from the hours you had been crying; you're scared and trembling when he approached his face towards yours.

sangwoo's nose is touching yours, as you overhear the doorbell.

'be quiet, y/n, and i promise i'll tie you up and we will have a nice chat in the kitchen, i promise, my baby.'

you're the strong girl that had turned into the mouse as sangwoo kidnapped you. obviously, the word kidnap is suited by the situation you've been stuck in.

disobey him? no way, he'd leave in the dark small room for days, leaving you dying without water or food until he finally gives you a small piece of bread and a sip of water.

shout for help? again, he could kill the person who had ring the doorbell - he could. he can.

obey him? unfortunately - yes. you had no choice and making the plan will take time, which is woefully short.

pray harder - the only thing left for you to do.

the footsteps of the kidnapper and, it seems to be, two other people were heard above your head. they will never guess about the basement, any chance. they won't help you.

it had passed five minutes when sangwoo again came down the stairs.

'good girl, y/n, as i promise, i'll tie you up. but if you'll try to leave out house' he smirked.

'i won't, woo, i promise, i won't' you interrupted him by calling him woo. you knew that the name you have given him will melt him - that's why you had called him woo.

he did you a cup of warm tea, warming your cold body. currently, sitting in his kitchen and drink the liquid is a little suspicious.

'y/n, let me make you feel happy and loved. i saw those fools who were trying to please you as if they could. i saw your chagrined face, every time you walk home from the 'date'' the last word he was pointing quotation marks with his fingers.

sangwoo was right - none of the boys couldn't be made your beloved or put a smile on your face. nice try but they failed up.

sangwoo. yes. before the 'mess' he had made, he was certainly the one who made you laugh. he was a gentleman, first of all.

look at him now - a pathetic, miserable boy who has fallen because you ain't love him back.

'give the chance, y/n, i won't disappoint you.'

the chance? well, it's up to you what to choose:

the first - let sangwoo bring the light to your life and truly, you will be loved.

the second - i'll say it again: he bans you in the basement and will wait until you say yes. a week, a month, a year, a few years - he will wait for your positive response.

so, what will you pick?

(＋_＋)

i finally did it. yes. i'd like to write longer, but i let you choose any ending.

[the-hidden-pages]

Let Me Worship You: Part 1 - Zemo x Fem!Reader

The fact that this man is the one who dragged me out of my refusing-to-write-fanfiction grave and let me post old work while working on new stuff is...Impressive. Damn you Daniel Bruhl.

Synopsis: With all the horrible things you had heard of Baron Helmut Zemo, you hadn't anticipated just how badly he wished to win you over. To a further extent, you certainly hadn't anticipated how tempting it would be to give in.

No bad NSFW this chapter - this is the lead up to the main course.

You were not an Avenger.

Unsurprising, really, given what you perceived to be your lack of talent and marketable super-heroine prowess, and so when Bucky called you up asking for a favour, you were pleasantly surprised.

You had only met Bucky on the rare occasion he let you help him, often expressing that he viewed you as a worrywart, a particularly bad day of his leading to him accusing you of trying to be his mother. He later apologized, hearing your explanation that you wanted to help in any way you could, and since you didn't have a superhero serum or fancy suit or arm, you relied on what you could - your mind and your giving nature.

He must have remembered this conversation, because he brought you with him and Sam to what appeared to be an underground parking garage.

"What're you talking about, you wanna break Zemo out of jail? Where the hell are we Buck? Have you lost your mind?!" Sam was raving as you followed behind the two men, silent as you stew over what Bucky had told you.

Babysitting duty.

You were effectively on glorified babysitting duty of an incredibly dangerous criminal.

"James..." you hesitated when he discussed this with you, how could you not? "I don't know how useful I'll be here."

"Very," he countered, his voice dull while his eyes were pleading. "Sam’s an Avenger, I have the serum. But you, you're just a person. Zemo will be less likely to hurt and immediately betray you because of that fact alone."

"He's killed people who've been in his way before. Normal people."

"He won't kill you. I'll make sure of that."

A heavy sigh escapes you as Sam and Bucky continue to bicker about the logistics of breaking Zemo out.

"I don't like how casual you're being about this, it's unnatural - and - where are we man?"

"I wouldn't mind an answer to that too," you supply, but any answer is interrupted by the sound of a door unlocking.

The three of you turn to approaching footsteps, and find no one other than Helmut Zemo striding towards you, dressed in a prison guard's uniform.

Sam responds immediately, arguing to throw him back in jail, while Bucky tries to calm him down. But you can't help but stare at the man before you as he removes the cap on his head, arms raised in an attempt to calm the men down.

"If I may" his voice rasped, but he was stopped short by Sam and Bucky in unison.

"NO!"

Zemo nodded, looking away almost sheepishly. "Apologies," came the quiet response.

If it were any other situation, you would have laughed - those two had the dynamics of a married couple and they couldn't stand each other. And for them to completely shut down the killer in front of them was...incredibly funny.

But you had a job to do.

As the boys continued to bicker, you took slow steps forward towards the man now looking you up and down, trying to place your part in all of this.

"Don't mind them," you spoke quietly, not wanting to distract Sam and Bucky, but still intending to speak with the criminal. "They're having some troubles in paradise. You must be Zemo."

His eyes take you in, a small smirk beginning to form. "So I must. May I have the pleasure of your name, Liebling?"

You offer your name hesitantly, and he repeats it back to you, as though he were sampling what it might taste like.

"Beautiful name, thank you." He turns to face the two men still arguing, not noticing your introductions. "I really think I'm invaluable..."

"Shut up..." Sam warned, before turning back to Bucky, looking between him and you.

You nod reassuringly to him - this is necessary, if the super soldiers are to be dealt with.

A sharp sigh leaves Sam. "Okay. If we do this, you don't make a move without our permission. And she is watching you every step of the way."

Bucky interjects. "And if anything happens to her, you're going to wish we left you in that cell."

Zemo nods, looking to you once again. "Fair."

You tilt your head slightly, unable to read his eyes as they examine you. You brush it off, chalking it up to him appreciating not being thrown back into a cell immediately. "Okay Zemo. Where do we start?"

*************************************

Zemo wasn't sure of what to make of you, he realized as you were on the jet to Riga.

You weren't an Avenger, you weren't a soldier, super or otherwise. You seemed to just be a person, one constantly offering her help where she could, even when it was to her own detriment.

He also took note of how rarely your help was appreciated or reciprocated.

You would offer help any moment you could, carrying supplies, offering to fetch food, simply offering and ear to listen. You were quick to attempt to smooth over Sam and Bucky's disputes, and you would play along with the role Zemo would assign you without much question - anything to help, you would say.

You were kind, he noticed as well. Smart, and shrewd, and clearly with trust issues, but you were kind and polite. You spoke with him as much as you might Sam or Bucky, you offered him your trust under the promise he would aide you find the super soldier serum. With your kindness, he thought it might be easy to manipulate you, to slip away from the group, maybe even to ask you to join him.

But there was an issue with his theory, he quickly noticed - any attempt to woo you, attract you, win you...didn't seem to work.

He hadn't been at the task long, mind you, but he had hoped you would be impressed with the jacket, the Baron title, the jet, the offer of wine. Instead, you simply seemed uncomfortable. Come Madripoor, you were happy to play the part of eye candy to escape much attention, yet when he offered you to keep the stunning dress, shoes, and jewelry ensemble you simply waved it off, claiming that you'd reimburse him if he insisted on you keeping it. You were happy to dance near him, unable to hide your laughter at his moves, yet he offered you a drink and you promptly declined, claiming it unnecessary.

Zemo's brow furrows as he observes you, awake and quietly reading as Sam and Bucky both sleep on the flight.

"What's your motive, Liebling?" he questions, and you glance up from your page.

"Don't tell me the criminal doesn't trust me," you respond wryly, turning your gaze back.

"No, I don't mean like that," he shifts, leaning forward to continue to observe the woman that was his guard. "I wonder what keeps you going. Some are motivated by riches, and dreams. Others from spite and anger. What do you want from life, my dear? What causes you to wake up in the morning?"

You pause, looking up to search his eyes to see where this question was coming from. You weren't sure what game he was playing, and you weren't sure how to answer him either. You eventually look back down to your book, a small smile playing on your lips.

"Nothing wakes me up in the morning, given I rarely get to sleep most nights."

His brows furrowed as she goes back to her pages, eager for the conversation to end. Her difficulty doesn't seem to be that he's a criminal - she's spoken plenty freely to him, she agrees to his plans...

The difficulty, he begins to realize with a smile. Maybe he's beginning to see what the difficulty is after all.

*************************************

You weren't sure what to make of Zemo, you think as you lie awake at night in the Riga safe house.

This criminal coming out of nowhere, apparently being rich as hell, so far doing nothing to cause you to believe he would betray you (yes, Sam and Bucky were shocked by his killing of Nagel, but really? You weren't shocked) ...but what shocked you the most was how badly he seemed to want to win you over.

You could justify it, sure. You're supposed to be his guard, he's likely trying to get you to let your guard down so he can escape. Yet when he's so charismatic, the way he holds himself, that voice...

Your eyes snap open sharply.

You were attracted to Zemo.

The man you're meant to be watching.

No, you told yourself. You're just lonely, and he's the first man offering you attention in a long time. It doesn't matter that his eyes examining you makes you blush, that you want to run your fingers through his hair, that a quiet voice your head wished that he would kiss you when he pulled you aside with one arm, other hand aiming at a pipe in Madripoor to blow up some poor saps...

It's the heat of the situation, you told yourself. Your options are Sam, Bucky, and Zemo...

Trust you to pick the worst option.

But how could you not, your mind whispers. When he danced like a goofball in a club your heart warmed. When he sat, filled with confidence and righteousness in the jet, legs splayed enough that you could perch on your knees in front of him, worship him, pleasure him. When he left the bathroom this morning in that damned robe, the deep V drawing your eyes down his chest before you could help himself.

You groaned. Of all the thoughts to keep you awake, why did it have to be your assignment on your mind?

It was too hot, your mind was swimming, you knew sleep wouldn't come soon.

And so, you stood, wrapping your arms around your book and padding downstairs in a loose t-shirt and shorts. Zemo had said that you were welcome to whatever resided within the safe house, and you were ready to take up his offer and steal a cup of tea.

You weren't expecting to find anyone else still awake. And yet, you weren't fully surprised to find Zemo sitting in the kitchen, bottle of whiskey at his side, a glass in his hand. He looks up at the sound of your footsteps, a soft smile on his face.

"Good evening, Liebling."

"Zemo. Can't sleep?"

"Unfortunately, not." He leans backwards slightly, examining you. "Another sleepless night for you as well."

"So it would seem."

You take a seat across the counter from him, not wanting to sit too closely to the man you were just fantasizing about. You were good at keeping a straight face, but you wondered if you got too close if he'd somehow be able to smell it on you.

He pushed his bottle forward, cocking an eyebrow at you.

"Drink?"

Your finger caresses the binding of your book as you hesitate to find the words.

"Actually, I had come down to make myself a cup of tea, if you don't mind."

Zemo's eyes lit up slightly, and he stood, motioning for you to stay where you were. "Allow me."

"You don't have to-" you begin to protest, but he's quick to cut you off.

"Please, Liebling, let me spoil you."

The heat that washes over you is clearly visible, if his chuckle is any indicator.

Silence falls and you quietly open your book as Zemo busies himself over the tea. In mere minutes a steeping mug is delicately placed in front of you. You smile graciously and nod, though you falter slightly as he doesn't return to the other end of the counter - rather, sitting on a stool right beside you, inquisitive eyes not leaving your face.

"Can I help you with something, Baron?" you question, taking the tea and blowing on it to cool it down somewhat. His eyes follow your movements, before travelling to meet yours again.

You could drown in those eyes -

"Day after day you offer your help, sarcastically or not," he begins, leaning forward slightly as he rests his chin on his hand, examining you. "Who offers help to the helper?"

You take a sip of your tea, tilting you head. "I don't know what you mean."

"Your refusal of my gifts, your reluctance to let me even make you a cup of tea - at first I wondered if it was in distrust of me, Liebling -"

"Well, you have killed people."

He quirks an eyebrow, and you motion for him to finish.

"I realize now it's because you're uncomfortable being cared for. You spend so much time looking after everyone else, you give no one the opportunity to worship you as you deserve."

You choked a bit on your tea at that.

"I don't know that I deserve to be worshiped, I just...exist. And do what I can to help others."

Zemo leaned forward further, slowly, so as to not push you away in result. "We haven't been acquainted for long, my dear, but from all I've seen from you with Sam, with James, and with an undeserving man such as myself...the strength in your soul and the empathy in your heart...It alone rises you so far above the men and women placed on pedestals because of their supernatural abilities."

You lean forward to match, but your eyes have steeled over. "Your sweet words won't make me let you go, Zemo. I won't betray Sam and Bucky."

He didn't miss a beat. "I should be so lucky to be held captive by you for eternity, Liebling. I don't ask you to betray your friends on my behalf."

"Then what do you want from me, exactly?"

You should be very afraid. The man who singlehandedly tore apart the Avengers is staring at you as if you were a last meal, his knees touching yours, his hand finding its way to lightly perch on your arm.

You should be afraid.

Yet despite your better judgement, you aren't.

"I want you to tell me every one of your desires, so I might fulfill them. I want to see you stand tall in the finest clothes money can buy, to whisk you away to Paris, Vienna, Rome, every beautiful local this world has to offer, local that pale in comparison to the beauty in front of me. I want you to let me bring you tea, wine, food, chocolates, and anything else that might please you. I want you to relax against me, to feel the tension you've had all mission to wash away in the most luxurious bath of your life, while I wash your beautiful hair, while I taste every inch of you."

His voice had dropped to nearly a whisper, and you couldn't stop yourself from leaning forward more to hang off his every word. "I'm not a stupid man. I know it's only a matter of time before I'm back in a prison cell of some kind. And even if I weren't, you may not believe the sincerity of my words. But tonight, little bird, I want you to let me worship you."

Your eyes fluttered as his hand reached forward to cup your cheek, thumb caressing over your bottom lip. You had the strength to look him dead in the eye with one final warning.

"If this is a trick of any kind, Zemo, I won't hesitate to let Bucky rip you to shreds."

The laughter that leaves him fans over your face, drawing your eyes to his lips.

"I'd expect nothing less, Liebling."

His eyes still search your face. A gentleman, you realize. He's waiting for permission.

You lean forward to close the gap, slowly letting your mouth brush over his, tasting him for the first time, as your hand raises to card through the locks of hair in his face. Your body thrums with anticipation of what's to come, with the anxiety that this may be a dangerous move, with pure, undiluted arousal from his words.

Yet you break away gently, both hands cupping his face now as he looks at you, curious as to why you stopped, pleased that his initial seduction worked.

Your hands slowly travel down to his own, and you stand, backing towards the way you came when you first gave up on sleep for the night.

"Come on then. You want to show me what being spoiled is like?"

A grin curls its way onto his face as he spins you in his arms, twirling you so that your back is against his front, his arms around you, his breath hot in your ear.

"Little bird, I'll give you everything you crave and more."

[zhongliologist]

Shibari + Zhongli canon compliant nsfw

Pairing: Zhongli x Gender Neutral!reader

Genre: SMUT SMUT SMUT!! 

Words: 3.9k

AN: Hi anon!! Sorry this took a while! THANK YOU FOR REQUESTING THIS ONE!! I’m glad I had experience writing something like this before skajdha I decided I can’t fit this into a small drabble, so here’s like a really long version lmao my two itty bitty braincells are now in no-brain mode, so this might be full of typos or errors. 

*WARNING!! THIS IS PURE SMUT. IF YOU ARE A MINOR, IT IS UPON YOUR DISCRETION. PLEASE READ RESPONSIBLY*

***

When Zhongli first heard the word while on a stroll late one night, he had realized that there was indeed an artform he had yet to encounter or at least heard of. His curiosity peaked, it was only a matter of time before he finally had to give in and ask you what it was.

“YN, if I may,” he began, settling the cup of tea to the table. “There is something I wish to know.”

Attention caught, you raised your brows at him—surprised that there was actually something Zhongli has yet to know—as you took a mouthful of wonton noodles.

“Sure, ask away,” you replied, chewing.

“Well, this was several nights ago,” Zhongli recounted, his deep voice serious. “I was passing by a group of shipbuilders and I couldn’t help but over hear their conversation.”

You hummed, prompting him to continue while stuffing another serving of blackened bass in your mouth.

“Their discussion involved an artform popular in Inazuma, and apparently has spread all over Teyvat as well,” he continued. “Unfortunately, I have yet to hear about this certain artform. Could you care enlighten me please?”

Leaning your head to the side, you wondered what it was. There wasn’t any popular art trend nowadays which Zhongli doesn’t know, so you became to grow curious as well.

“Did you catch the name of it?”

Zhongli nodded. “Yes. It’s called shibari.”

You almost choked on the food you were eating.

“Are you sure that’s what you heard?”

“I believe it is what I have heard,” he replied. “Is there something wrong?”

Sighing, you were going to have a lot of trouble explaining it to him. It was painfully obvious how Zhongli is so out of touch from the pleasures of mankind.

Pinching the bridge of your nose, you decided it was best for him to know, before he does something unexpected.

“It’s kind of a sexual play,” you told him, but despite your words, Zhongli only glanced at you, eyes blinking.

Watching him, you noticed he had placed his hand over his chin—a habit he had whenever he was thinking. Whatever comes out of his thoughts, you were beginning to become nervous.

“I see. So, performing art during intercourse…interesting,” he mumbled to himself. “It is not too far off considering the fact that intercourse could also be deemed as a form of art, wherein it takes specialized honed skill to elicit a pleasurable result. To take two art forms and combine them in one act…I am astonished at the inventiveness of man.”

You took a bite from a dumpling, eyes jaded. “It’s not that grand, you know.”

“Now that I am aware of its existence,” Zhongli continued, paying no heed to your comment. “I wish to experience it myself. YN, I must request for your assistance.”

The dumpling you were eating fell back to your plate. “…what?”

“This…this shibari. I wish to partake in this now popular art form,” he repeated, but you only became more flabbergasted.

“Didn’t you hear me say that it’s a sexual play?!”

“I did. That is why it must be you,” Zhongli replied, taking your hand and placing it over his smirking lips. “You are my lover after all.”

Flustered, you had no choice but to agree. You knew of Zhongli’s immense curiosity and nothing is going to stop him from finding out what he wants to find out. Moreover, you wouldn’t really want him to experience it with someone else.

“F-fine,” you conceded, still nervous. “But give me a month to prepare. You should also ready yourself.”

Wondering why he had to wait and ‘ready’ himself, Zhongli leaned his head to the side. “Very well, but why a month?”

You scratched your nape as you averted your gaze somewhere. “I don’t have the right stuff, and I don’t have enough knowledge to do it properly. So give me some time.”

*

It had been a month since that conversation had occurred, and Zhongli began to feel a little bit antsy as the day drew near. It wasn’t common for him to feel this nervous energy, always maintaining his calm and composure. But it was different this time.

Since that discussion with you, you had banned any sort of sexual act from sex to masturbation, all except from small kisses; and as someone who had gotten used to your presence in his arms at night, Zhongli instantly felt withdrawal symptoms cloud his dignified countenance.

Zhongli inhaled sharply as soon as you entered his room, anticipation deeply running in his veins. You took a shower right after him, making him wait and allowing his imagination to run rampant inside his head.

“Sorry, did I make you wait?” you asked, making your way to the bed in nothing but a bathrobe.

“No, it’s alright,” Zhongli replied, his long hair now freely flowing after he had taken off his ponytail when he was taking a shower.

Running your hands through his dark hair, you admired the way they slipped against your skin as if they were made of silk. Absentmindedly, you began to braid his hair in a lose coif, making him relax underneath your touch.

“Um…er…YN, are we going to—”

You hummed, interrupting his words as you smiled. “Eager, aren’t we?”

“I fear that I may longer be able to contain my anticipation,” he confessed, feeling your hands on his back through the thin robe he was wearing.

Grinning, you knelt down and embraced him from the back; giving his temple a small kiss. “It seems like I don’t have to ask you if you’re sure about this.”

Loving how you felt so warm around him, Zhongli smiled as well as he intertwined his fingers between yours. “I do feel nervous, but it was I who wished to know; thus I must see it to the end.”

“Well, that settle’s it then,” you replied as you removed yourself from his shoulders. “Before we start, I need to remind you that we can always stop if you can no longer handle it, ok?”

Zhongli sighed. “I am confident that I can handle something like this.”

“Please stop being so stubborn,” you retorted back, annoyed that he really has to insist he wouldn’t need it. “Since it will take you forever to decide, I’ve picked one for you. It’s Rex Lapis. Say it when it gets too much.”

He scoffed. “You retaliate in the most absurd of ways, yet very well, I’ll keep it mind. Nonetheless, that does not mean I will use it.”

You grinned. “You’ll take that back soon enough.”

As you said those words, you shifted from your seat and faced him; hands cupping his chin. There was a look of surprise in Zhongli’s expression as soon as you tilted his head up to meet your eyes—too slow to react at the situation.

“Now, from here on out, I’m the one in charge. Any misdemeanor will warrant due punishment,” you began, voice firm and authoritative. “Are we clear, Zhongli?”

It took him some time to adjust at the sudden shift in the air; stunned at the tone you were giving him. This was probably the first time he had seen you take the lead, and it might’ve given him some sort of whiplash.

“Answer me,” you demanded, which made him jerk his attention back to you.

“I—uh…yes…”

“Very good.”

Smiling at his response, you removed yourself before him and sat just beside him with an easy expression. “Well then, why don’t you take off that robe? Just the robe though, leave your underwear on.”

Brought on by the awkward situation and the fact that you just ordered him to strip, Zhongli’s face immediately heated up to a few degrees. It was strange that he was feeling it for some reason—was this the actual appeal of the performative art form? Or was this simply one of your whims?

As he removed the silk tie tying his robe shut and slid it on the floor, you instructed him to quietly kneel down on the bed before you; hands neatly placed on top of his lap.

“Y-YN…? What is this…?” he asked, confusion marring his youthful face. It was embarrassing to sit on the bed that way, wearing nothing but his underwear, his dick beginning to form a tent.

Yet you only smiled at him.

“Don’t worry. We’re getting to the actual act,” you replied, crawling towards him before placing your hands on his bare chest. “If you can hold on till then, I might actually award you, you know?”

Leaning down, you immediately captured his lips in a deep kiss, moving softly yet sensually against his. Cupping his cheeks, you pushed your tongue inside and easily played with his. For some reason, this felt way hotter than the kisses you previously shared, with Zhongli unable to keep his hands to himself and began to wrap his arms around your waist.

You broke off the kiss with a click of your tongue; your thumb still on his swollen lips.

“YN…”

“What did I say about touching?” you asked, eyes holding nothing but pure mischief.

As soon as he heard you, Zhongli knew he had made a mistake and instantly rescinded his embrace; eliciting a chuckle from you.

“I—uh, forgive me…” he hurriedly told you, his voice beginning to lose their strength as he stuttered and tumbled at the words he used to be so eloquent with. As someone who has prided of his calm demeanor, Zhongli felt a surge of embarrassment at how he easily succumbed to your touch.

It was so adorable to see him like this; all flustered and nervous, making you want to see more of those reactions you have yet to see.

“Stay there. I’ll be right back,” you told him and stood up; an idea forming in your thoughts.

The moment you left; thoughts of things he might’ve done wrong kept repeating inside his head. He was scared that he might’ve crossed something which he shouldn’t have—the sounds of you rummaging through your belongings only exacerbated the nervousness that was already in his system.

However, you were not gone for long. He could sense you behind him, daring not to move or look back, and as soon as you draped a cold silk cloth over his eyes, he instantly realized what he had eagerly signed up for.

For one, as the Geo Archon, it was unimaginable for him to be in such a position, but for some reason, Zhongli found it incredibly arousing to have him at your mercy—to be restricted and ordered around; to be at the other end of the spectrum from what he was used to?

This is strange indeed…

“Don’t you agree that everything feels more vivid when you’re blindfolded?” you asked, now back on his lap; and despite being robbed of sight, he could tell you were smirking. “Does it feel good, Zhongli?”

“I…I cannot be certain…” he replied, the feeling of your intense stare sending shivers down his spine. “I haven’t experienced something like this before…”

At his hesitation, you could only giggle and gave him a small kiss. “Well, there’s a first for everything, but this one here…”

Your voice trailed off, your hand effortlessly finding his half hard dick and pressed on it harshly; eliciting a strangled moan from him. “It’s been feeling good for a while now, don’t you think so Zhongli?”

“I…I—!” He was at a lost for words; the pleasure he felt intoxicating his mind. You were right, the blindfold seemed to heightened his senses to such degrees of vividness.

“I can’t blame you really,” you told him, still toying with his member with your finger but not fully committing on pumping it up and down. “I did tell you to hold off for a month, of course, you’d be unusually sensitive and horny.”

If Zhongli thought his face was hot enough before, he hadn’t anticipated for it to feel full out burning as if his blood was set on fire. He tried holding off the sounds he was making whenever you pepper kisses on his shoulders, but to no avail. He was gradually becoming heady at the immense pleasure your hand was giving. By the time you continued talking, he was already panting heavily, skin flushed and hands balled so tightly into a fist, his knuckles turning white.

“Y-YN…” He wanted to say ‘too much’, but he didn’t want to stop you either.

“I’m impressed you can keep your hands to yourself,” you remarked playfully, rewarding him with a love bite just underneath his jaw. “Why don’t we move on to the actual thing itself?”

Even with the blindfold, Zhongli could feel you standing up; anticipation once again beating wildly against his chest. What were you going to do to him this time?—that was a thrill he had never expected to feel pleasure from.

You returned once more to his side, now with the appropriate items you needed, and brilliant grin on your lips to top it off. It was weirdly exciting for you as well, finally doing something as erotic as this to a dignified gentleman such as Zhongli. Which is why, you couldn’t help but talk him through it.

“I did tell you that shibari some sort of sexual play, right?” you began, as you seized both of his hand and pinned them on his back. “It involves tying someone up with rope, in patterns that are not only visually pleasing but are also designed to make you feel good.”

Zhongli could feel the roughness of the rope cling to his skin as soon as you tied his wrists together before doing various knots up his torso and down to his legs. It was incredibly strange—you were only tying him up but for some reason, he felt so exposed and so turned on.

“The reason why it’s so popular is because it gives a sense of security if you will,” you continued, remembering the patterns you had religiously practiced over and over again for the past month. “As if you were surrendering everything to that one person, trusting that they can give you security, give you pleasure. That is what this art form is.”

Every time he felt your soft hands brush against his damp skin as you tightened the rope around his body, he would control a shudder that kept on surging through him like a multitude of waves. This was beyond the ordinary, a situation Zhongli had not anticipated—you were right when you told him to prepare himself. He definitely did not heed your advice, and it came to him with a price, especially when you finally wrapped some rope around his dick as it stood straight and hard between his legs.

“If only you could see yourself right now, Zhongli,” you told him, pressing firmly on the ropes around his member before nibbling on his earlobe. “Aah, I just want to eat you up.”

With your sultry voice directly sending shockwaves down his lower parts, he could only dig his fingernails on the palm of his hands as the hemp ropes dug deeper in his skin. Even though they were not too tight, the restrictive sensation enveloping his body, plus the way you were touching him now was making him lose his mind.

“YN…YN…p-please, I—!”

He spoke between gasps as he felt your lips suckle on a sensitive point on his neck, his dick twitching as he tried to jerk up.

You hummed amusingly. “What is it, love? Where do you want me to touch you?”

Raking up your fingernails up his toned chest, you smirked as he groaned, unable to find any sort of friction he had been seeking for some time now. The way his long dark locks stuck to his skin because of how much he was sweating, or the way he trembled and shivered at every touch of his skin—you loved them all. As much as how Zhongli was intoxicated by pleasure, you were also heady with the power you had over him.

Not waiting for his answer, you crept your hands up and suddenly pinched his nipples—making him jolt straight up at the abrupt stimulation with a loud moan.

“Do you like it here?” you asked, now lavishing your tongue over a hardened nub; relentless and teasing.

“Ahh…! YN…! Wait, please!”

All of his thoughts had already vanished, replaced only by the sensations of your tongue on his now sensitive nipples, of the ropes wound tightly around him, of how painfully hard his dick was. It felt good, he had to admit it. It felt incredibly good.

“Do you want me to stop? I can always stop,” you asked, smiling. “If not, tell me where else I should touch you.”

Breathless as his chest heaved, Zhongli tried to find the words he wanted to say even as his lips trembled.

“Um…please touch….m-my…”

He was blushing furiously, the word seemingly unable to pass through his lips.

“Your what, Zhongli?” you asked him again, almost cooing but inwardly laughing at how he just can’t say the word ‘dick’.

Biting his lip to stop it from quivering too much, it seemed like he really has to throw every sense of dignity he had in him just to relieve his arousal.

“M-my…pe—ahh!!"

You pinched one of his nipples, pouting. “Don’t you dare call it penis, or else I won’t let you cum. Now, as you were saying?”

If only his head wasn’t too hazy from all the sensations stimulating him simultaneously, he would’ve made a mental note to make you suffer at a later date, but right now, his brain was being ran by his dick.

“P-Please…YN…! My—my…d-dick…I can’t…” he forced between pants as his sweat made the ropes feel even tighter and his underwear feel even more sticky.

Smirking at your victory, you pressed a kiss on his lips, your hands finally removing his dick from the constraints of his underwear. You could feel him groan on your lips as you began to move your hand up and down, and making sure to reach his most sensitive spots.

“Look at you, getting this hard after being tied up,” you whispered to his lips, a grin plastered on your face. “I didn’t know you were this dirty, Zhongli.”

“I-I’m…not!”

He tried to deny it but you kept his mouth shut by squeezing his cock tightly.

“Really now?” you asked, voice low as you kept on pumping him, his voice becoming nothing but dirty noise. “Are you about to cum?”

“YN…!” he growled, the ropes keeping his legs folded biting on his skin. “T-too much….! I’m…!”

Mercilessly, you continued to jerk him off as he crept closer and closer to climax. However, there he realized that the ropes around his member had gotten tighter, and the painful throbbing he felt was because he couldn’t cum.

“Oh? Did you find it out?” you asked, chuckling at the look of desperation so evident in his face. “If you can endure this in a few more minutes, I’ll reward you. How about that?”

“N-no, no….! YN…p-please, I c-can…no longer….” Most of his words were incomprehensible, affected by the pleasure and the pain on his cock.

You hummed playfully once more. “Do you want me to stop then? You can always say the safe word, you know?”

“No! W-wait…please! I n-need…I can’t…!”

“Then endure,” you replied, an idea blooming in your head. Your free hand then reached for the blindfold covering his eyes and unraveled it, allowing him to finally see.

However, he did not have time to recover when you immediately caught his attention.

“Look how hard you are, Zhongli,” you told him, his amber eyes blow wide by his current state. Yet strangely, the thought of him so aroused and at your mercy, only made him harder.

Laying down on the bed with your chest on the mattress, you looked up to him, his dick on your hands; your eyes reflecting mischief. “If you can hold on for a few minutes, I’ll let you cum, alright?”

Zhongli only gazed down on you, face as hot as the sun and as red as beet. He watched as you took his dick in your mouth and began sucking him off. At the sensation, he instantly threw his head back. This was totally different from your hands. This was just incredible.

With lustful eyes, you watched him convulse before as you assaulted him with your tongue—sucking and licking at every sensitive point you knew. The underside and the tip were particularly sensitive and that was where you concentrated.

“A-ahh…! Oh…shit…YN!” he groaned, his deep voice and the way he was now cursing sent you reeling as well. “T-too good…I’m…f-fuck…!”

You chuckled, the vibrations on your throat making his dick twitch as you kept on bobbing your head. Gazing up, you both exchanged glances as you kept on sucking the tip; his eyes tightly closing at the intensity.

“Are you going to cum?” you asked before diving in once again, your hands secretly making their way underneath his underwear and finding his hole. “I’ll help you.”

“W-wait…! T-that’s!” he jolted up yet unable to do anything but feel your fingers brushing around the rim.

Prodding at his hole, you enjoyed watching the pained yet lustful expression he was making on his otherwise stoic face. His eyebrows furrowed, his cheeks flushed pink, his mouth ajar as drool poured down his chin. It was fascinating, addicting. You can’t help but tease him endlessly, relentlessly as he kept on moaning your name again and again as if under a spell.

“P-Please….let me…I can’t…I’m going to….Y-YN…!”

Deciding that this was finally the limit of his first time, you cleverly untied the knot on his back which kept the rope around his pelvis secure, allowing it to loosen.

Still sucking him off and poking on his hole, you could feel him twitch inside your mouth, an indication that he was close.

“YN…! I’m….ughh…c-coming!”

In a few pumps, Zhongli climaxed in your mouth; his warm cum on your throat. It was a bit too much, and a little thick so you were unable to swallow everything, allowing it to drip down your chin.

Released from his high, Zhongli couldn’t believe he just had his biggest nut of his life after being tied up. It was in every ounce, shameful and embarrassing but it just felt too good for him to resist at all. Maybe it wasn’t too much of a bad thought to do this once in a while.

Eventually, you loosened the ropes that were still on him and took note of the rope markings on his skin, reminding yourself to give him that special balm you got for this exact purpose. As soon as you released him, you pulled him to a deep kiss which he gladly reciprocated.

Unlike your previous ones, this kiss was one of concern and care—asking and answering questions that were difficult to convey. As your lips moved against each other, your chest began to warm and float, glad that you were able to deliver his request. When you both pulled away, the normal Zhongli was back; his eyes warm and lively.

“I’m glad it felt good,” you told him, cupping his cheek. “I was afraid I might hurt you or something.”

He only chuckled and gave you a pat. “I did tell you I can handle it.”

You sighed in relief, loving the way he was touching you. “So, how about we sleep—"

Zhongli however interrupted you, pushing you down the bed, pinning your wrists. He was smiling but you definitely knew you were screwed.

“I reckon it is time for me take my revenge,” he gazed at you, eyes turning feral. “No one will be sleeping tonight.”

[nastybuckybarnes]

Of Kings and Beasts  -  Five

Pairing: King!Bucky X Princess!Reader X King!Steve

Summary: Born a bastard of the King of Orlen, you’re thrust to the West to marry the Kings. However, the greeting you get is anything but warm, and your life with the King is far from enjoyable. He knows it isn’t your fault his husband is gone, but that fact alone won’t prevent him from taking it out on you.

Warnings: Language, Kinda Slow Burn, Fluff, Injuries, Kinda Angst

Word Count: 2.7K

A/n: Happy New Year to all you beautiful people. I’m writing this and I’m feeling pretty happy right now but I’m also feeling very drained because I’m working so much and there's shit going on, BUT I wanted to post this because it’s been long awaited. It’s shorter because it’s a rare (Kinda) fluffy chapter and It ends off on a good place to have me starting the next part openly. My brain is mush rn so Idk if this is even making sense.

THIS SERIES CONTAINS SMUT AND DARK THEMES THAT MAY BE TRIGGERING TO SOME AUDIENCES!!! READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!!!

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

Part Four

~*~

“I need to know exactly what you did to her. She is in there, in pain and agony and you stand here acting as though you are the one who had to endure the hardships.”

James grinds his teeth together, wishing his reunion with his beloved was going better.

“I... I was harsh with her. I told her she would never replace you... that her only purpose was to give me an heir and that she could be easily replaced. She... she angered me and I struck her... I have forced myself upon her in my anger and my haste to consummate the marriage. I know I am wrong for all I have done but I am doing everything in my power to right my wrongs.”

He doesn’t see it coming, only realizes it when his nose crunches beneath Steve's fist.

“You are a coward! A King would not behave like that even if he had lost his entire kingdom! You have treated our wife as though she is a prisoner! And I say our wife because in title that is what she is. However, she is my wife in my heart as well. But anyone can see that she is not your wife in yours. The way you have treated her... you should not be allowed near her.”

He strikes his husband again, his knuckles knocking the side of his cheek as the brunet dodges swiftly.

“I know. I understand that what I have done is wrong but-” “No, James, I don’t think you do! She is terrified of you! She’d sooner seek comfort in me, a stranger, than in you. You are the first face of our kingdom that she met and you...” The blond trails off, beyond furious with his husband.

“You have broken that woman. What can you even say for yourself?”

The brunet backs up a step, his hands raised in surrender as Steve steps closer to him, his hands clenching into fists.

“Nothing will excuse my actions and I realize that. But I will not stop trying to fix the damage I have caused.” 

Steve scoffs, shaking his head at the other man.

“I’m not sure if you will be able to fix it.” They’re both quiet for a long moment before Steve speaks again, walking past his husband and towards the door.

“I think it would be best if you gave both (Y/n) and myself some space. Do not come to either of us unless we have directly summoned you.” The brunet nods, shoulders slumping in defeat.

Steve has to focus on his breathing as he walks back to your chambers, wanting to be there when you wake up and wanting to be in a better space as to not scare you.

When the door opens you’re awake, seated on your bed nursing a small cup of tea.

“How are you feeling?” He asks softly, dismissing Wanda with a nod. You take a deep breath and smile weakly at him.

“Better than yesterday, Your Majesty.” 

A shake of his head at the use of his title.

“Please, (Y/n). You’re my wife. You may address me by my name,” he says while stepping further into the room. 

“Steve,” you test the name, surprised at yourself for liking the way it feels rolling off your tongue.

He smiles warmly at you, sitting at the edge of your bed when you motion to it. You take a moment to really take him in as he sits in front of you.

The second King of Acadia is as gorgeous as his husband. He’s got endless blue eyes that shine with kindness, a kindness that has been shown to you only by Natalia and Wanda since you entered the Kingdom.

His frame is large and muscular, and you find yourself entranced and intimidated by him. Your brows furrow, however, when you see his split knuckles.

“You are hurt?” You ask, looking pointedly at his right hand. He instinctively clenches it into a fist then sighs, shaking his head.

“I’m afraid I let my emotions get the better of me when I learned of what His Majesty did to you.” You frown, looking down at the porcelain cup in your grasp.

Fragile and delicate, just like you.

“My very presence drives a wedge between the two of you. For that, I am sorry.” He shakes his head, fingers coming under your chin and lifting it until you look at him. The way you flinch when he raises his hand has his heart aching.

“It is not you who has created a wedge, nor is it you who drives it between us. James is well aware of his actions and he must face the consequences. He does not get special treatment because he is King. He’s lucky I only struck him for what he’s done to you. He deserves far worse.” You shake your head, grabbing the King’s hand tightly in yours.

“Please do not punish him. I fear he may think his fears are coming true. I do not wish to replace you nor do I wish to replace him. And by punishing him more I fear he may think that that is what is happening.”

Steve’s brows pull together in confusion.

“Do you not wish for him to feel what it is you’ve felt?” You shake your head, a shaky breath leaving you as you choose your words wisely.

“I... I would not wish my treatment upon anyone. But he has made efforts to repair our relationship. I do not wish to anger him with a relationship with you. I fear that us being close may be enough to bring his anger back to the surface.”

Steve is quiet, pondering your words for a long moment before lifting your entwined hands and pressing a kiss to your knuckles.

“If he makes one hostile move towards you I will have him thrown in the dungeon. He will not bring you any more pain. I give you my word.” You nod slowly, not used to someone being so protective of you.

“Now I’m sure you need your rest, so I will not deprive you of it any longer.” He goes to stand up but you tug on his hand, not wanting him to leave just yet. His presence is refreshing. Something unlike anything you’ve experienced in years. And you do not want him to leave anytime soon.

“C-could you perhaps stay with me for a while longer? I... I value your presence. I know that I have only just met you, but you... you are a comfort in a kingdom that has brought only pain.” You don’t mean for your words to hurt him, and the sadness on his face nearly makes you regret speaking.

Until he settles back on the bed, a smile on his face as he squeezes your hand gently in both of his.

“I will stay with you until you no longer want me. This place should be a home to you, not a place of pain, and I will do all I can to ensure you feel safe and comfortable in your own Kingdom.”

The new approach has hope sparking in your belly, and you’re cautiously optimistic about your relationship with Steve. You only hope that you’ll be able to repair the one you have with James before he gets angry again.

~*~

“Is she eating?” Wanda nods, smiling at the blond king from her spot in the kitchen.

“Good. She looks ill. I want her to be healthy again. It is my goal to have her happy in her new home. Undo the damage that James caused.” Wanda sighs, shaking her head.

“They were rebuilding their relationship. Slowly but I’m sure they will have grown to love each other,” she says softly, and then it’s Steve’s turn to shake his head at her.

“It would be nothing more than love built on lies and fear. She deserves more than that.” Wanda nods, her heart heavy. She knows you haven’t been treated fairly, but she had hoped you and James would be able to build your relationship.

“Will you forgive His Majesty?” Steve sighs, not truly knowing the answer.

“I want to, but with what he did... it feels wrong to forgive him.” Wanda nods knowingly, gathering things for your lunch.

“Well, I know that the Queen is well on her way to forgiving him. I think it would do you well to forgive him. However, I have already overstepped. If you’ll excuse me, I need to go tend to my lady.”

She pauses at the doorway, looking over at the King and speaking freely for a moment. 

“I think you would do well to speak to the King with a cool head. Consider all that has happened and all that you had planned for your marriage.” She bows her head then leaves the kitchen, having given Steve many things to consider.

He stays in the room for a while longer, gathering his thoughts and trying to figure out what to do.

As he’s leaving, he nearly bumps straight into his husband.

James averts his eyes, although it pains him to do so. He wants nothing more than to devour every inch of the man before him.

He says nothing, instead, bows his head and waits for Steve to do something.

“James.” His eyes snap up, meeting the endless blues of his lover.

“Steve. H-How is she?” Steve grinds his teeth for a moment, Wanda’s words echoing in his mind before he huffs out a deep breath.

“If you would like, I will take you to see her. However, if she requests you leave, you will leave immediately. Do you understand?” James nods, his shoulders lifting slightly.

As they walk towards your chambers Steve takes a moment to take in the appearance of the brunet.

He’s got deep bags under his eyes and a heeling bruise on his cheek branching out across the bridge of his nose.

His skin is pale and almost lifeless, and Steve feels and for a moment. Until he remembers what his husband did to you.

By then they’re already at your door, far too late to turn back, and Steve knocks softly.

“My darling? May I come in?”

Your voice calls out eagerly, allowing him entrance.

In the few days since his return, he’s spent every waking moment with you, and you find yourself missing him in the few moment’s that he is not by your bedside.

He smiles at the sight of you. You’re far livelier than before, a smile on your face as he walks in.

“Good afternoon,” you say softly, your smile fading slightly as you see the man behind him.

“Your Majesty,” you greet him, bowing your head slightly.

“He is your husband, (Y/n). You may address him by his name. We would prefer it if you did.” You look between the two before nodding slowly, scooting back on your bed to make room for the two of them. 

Wanda smiles warmly at you, handing you a fresh cup of tea before excusing herself.

“May we sit?” James asks softly, motioning to your bed. You nod, taking a slow sip of tea while not taking your eyes off of the two men.

“You look well. You are eating more?” You nod, smiling at James softly.

“The same cannot be said for you,” You whisper, frowning at the bruises on his face.

“It is nothing that I do not deserve. I deserve far worse for all I have done. It is only my hope that we can grow together.” You’ve got a sad smile on your face as you look between the two of them, the tension rolling off of them in waves.

“What is it, darling?” Steve asks softly, reaching out to take your hand. You squeeze his warm hand then sigh, struggling for a moment to find the words.

“I have created a wedge between you. That is not something I ever wanted. I never wanted to come between you, nor have I ever wanted to replace either of you. I... I apologize for all that my presence here has caused.”

They both shake their heads, eyes meeting momentarily, Steve's filled with accusation while James’ are filled with guilt.

“You have done nothing wrong. That is something I want you to fully grasp.” You look at James as he speaks, heart thumping in your chest.

It’s been a while since you’ve had him so close to you and you’re not sure how you feel about it.

“Everything that has happened... it is all my doing. You have not done anything wrong. I am the one who has created a wedge between us... the one who has caused such distance. And I will spend every day trying to make up for that. I know you may not trust me or what I say, but I mean every word that I have spoken today.” You look between him and Steve, bottom lip tucked between your teeth for a moment.

“I want to trust you. I want us to be happy and I want us to have a good marriage, however, I will need time. But I do not want the two of you to be at ends with each other because of me. I fear it will cause far more conflict than it is worth.” Steve looks at you for an impossibly long moment before nodding, looking over his shoulder at where his husband is.

“I do not know how you have forgiven him, but I suppose I will try as well. We will forgive, but we will not forget.”

James nods, wanting to feel relieved but something is gnawing at his stomach.

“Your forgiveness is far more than I deserve. I will not, for as long as I live, be able to ever forgive myself for what I have done to you. The pain I have caused.” His eyes flitter down to your stomach, now devoid of the life that was growing. Devoid of the child that would’ve been his. A child that would’ve been the product of pain and of torment.

“How are you feeling, truly? I can only imagine the pain.”

You follow his gaze down to your stomach then swallow hard.

“If I may be honest with you... a small part of me is sad... but a larger part is relieved. I know it is wrong and horrid of me to think, but I am grateful to not be carrying a child that was forced upon me. It is my duty as Queen to give you heirs, and I shall. But not like that. It is too bold of me and I apologize, but if we are to make this marriage work then it is something that you must know.”

He nods easily, understanding what you mean.

“This marriage... we chose you, (Y/n). Specifically you,” Steve says softly, waiting for you to look up at him before speaking.

“We could’ve chosen any woman.” 

Upon seeing the frown on your face, James jumps in. “When he says that, he means that we had been offered wives before but none of them stood out to us. And then we were presented with you...” You look at him, confusion bringing your brows together.

“The princess of Orlen. A woman with kindness and beauty. From the way your father spoke of you, we chose you. If only to save you from a fate that he promised.”

You’re not sure how you feel about this.

“We spoke of you for weeks on end. We spoke of how we would love you, how we would treat you. How we would bed you...” A shiver races down your spine and you glance down, shaking your head.

“I-I do not think I will be ready for that for quite a while. I am sorry, but I just... I cannot. I can hardly walk without being in pain and Doctor Banner thinks that it may take weeks before I can do anything such as that.” Steve’s hand is on your back, rubbing soothing circles.

“We will wait. Your body has gone through something that neither one of us could ever imagine. We will not be angry with your healing process and we will not rush it. It is as I said before, your health and happiness mean everything to me.”

James nods his agreement but can’t help feeling left out of the tender moment being shared. As much as he may try, he knows he will not be welcomed with open arms. And he doesn’t expect to be. However, it doesn’t lessen the pain. If anything, it amplifies it.

Jealousy and anger simmer deep in his core, and he has to take careful breaths to make sure he doesn’t let them show. The last thing he needs is to scare you further. And although he truly does wish to be on good terms with you, seeing you with his husband the way you are... it brings something monstrous to the front of his mind.

Something he’s only ever taken out on the battlefield.

The good part if him is afraid for your safety if he cannot reel in the beast. But the beast roars beneath the surface, ready to claw its way out and reclaim what is his.

[labyrinth-runner]

Soft Obi cuddles. Like the candle on the other side of the room is the light thats making his hair all sparkly forehead kisses wrap me in a blanket but please also let me have skin contact soft cuddles

thats it

thats the ask

thank u

love u

byeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee : D

The Warmth of Knowing

Warnings: None. Just softness? Sorta? It's a moment in time.

Obi-Wan x Reader

Synopsis: Reader takes Obi-Wan away to rest and catch up.

The glowing red embers crackled in the hearth, casting the room in a warm hue. The fire enveloped you in its balmy embrace as you lazily blinked your eyes open. A rustle of movement beneath your chin caused you to look down, finding fluffy amber hair tickling your neck as the owner snuggled further into you. Absentmindedly, you ran your fingers through his hair, your fingernails dividing the golden strands as they slid under your fingertips.

You wanted- no, you needed to stretch, to elongate your body as your hands reached for the expanse of space above and your toes curled towards the depths below, but you dare not move. You dare not disturb the sleeping beast, for you knew it was a rare occasion that he did sleep. He preferred to run himself until he could run no longer, and only then would he allow himself to care for his own needs, having put the needs of others before his own for so long.

Your eyes lost focus before fluttering closed and letting sleep claim you again.

You awoke to the scent of spices in the air. They were earthen spices of clove and cinnamon, the kind that made you feel heady and the world hazy. They were the spices that renewed not just the thirst, but the soul.

Water poured into a cup, swirling shades of vermillion engulfing the pure white of porcelain. The cup was passed to you wordlessly. You took a sip, letting the flavorful tea coat wash over your tongue. It tastes like him, you thought. You didn't know why that thought intruded into your mind, but you knew it to be true. He was apples, whiskey, and fall spices. You wondered what you tasted like. Were you the juicy sweetness of summer? Or were you the floral beginnings of spring? Perhaps you were even the minty freshness of winter.

"How did you sleep?" you finally asked, breaking the spell. Yours was a relationship that could coexist without verbal words. There were little mental pushes and pulls of feelings that you communicated with when neither of you felt like talking. But, now you had questions that needed to be answered. Explanations were to be given in full, with no room for misinterpretations.

"Well enough," he sighed, taking a seat next to you on the couch. The light from the candles flickered across his face, settling his features into deep shadows.

"You can't keep carrying on like this," you put the cup down on the table to take his hands in yours. "You can't spend your days watching over a family that doesn't want your attention."

His large hand covered yours. "And you can't keep whisking me off whenever you think I need space."

"If I don't, then you'll get yourself into trouble," you laughed incredulously.

"You care too much, Darling."

"So do you."

Your eyes bore into his. Blue swirls of oceanic waves calmed as his gaze softened and he looked away.

"This isn't..." he trailed off.

"Isn't it?" you asked softly. The motions of the relationship were there. The late night discussions of the future which somehow always included each other without any room for another vision. The dinner dates. The feelings... even if they weren't freely admitted.

"We can't."

You squeezed his hand. "We can. We just need to know when to let go." You dropped his hand.

"Could you let go?" his eyes focused on the flames.

"If I must." You waited a moment before adding. "If you wished it. Could you?"

"I've never been very good at letting go," he said with a wry smile.

There was a storm hidden behind the seemingly innocuous words.

"We can't keep stealing moments like this."

"Can't we?" You nudged his shoulder with yours. "We're already ghosts. Why can't we be thieves as well?"

"You have people who need you," he pressed.

"I need you more," you replied.

"I thought you said you could let go," he smiled.

"I lied," you smiled back.

The fire was dying down, the roaring blaze now no more than a fading light. A shiver went down your spine.

Obi-Wan lifted the side of his robe. You tucked into his side, resting your head on his shoulder. He pressed a gentle kiss to the crown of your head. There was a weight to the kiss, a weight that was heavier than the diadem you were used to wearing.

"Obi-Wan-"

"You don't have to say it," he said gently, pulling you closer.

"I love you," you continued, wanting to say it, wanting to set the words free, to breath life into them and make them real.

He looked down at you and gently traced the pad of his finger down the curvature of your forehead to the tip of your nose. He leaned forward to bump his nose against yours. "I love you, too."

A heat settled in your chest. You knew he didn't have to say it. In fact, you knew that he wouldn't have said it in another life, in a previous life, because saying those words scared him. They meant admitting fallibility. They meant admitting attachment. He would show the feeling behind those words, but he would never had said them.

The two of you rested in a comfortable silence, warming yourselves in the presence of each other. Outside, you could hear the storm beating against the walls, but in here you were safe. Somewhere beyond lay the Empire and uncertainty. But here, in his arms, you were home and you were known.