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#*my works
rreids · 2 days
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NEED • A. HOTCHNER X READER
fem!reader; use of the word cunt; soft sex, desperate but not super explicit; 18+ mdni; couch sex; they do not shut up; ~800 words
“You’re still up?” is the first thing you ask as you walk in and find Aaron in comfortable clothes on the couch, TV light flickering across his face. He glances up from the screen sleepily and smiles at you, hair messy and eyes soft. He looks young again, like the 27 year-old you met when you were finishing law school yourself.
“Watching a show,” he mumbles. That’s not the reason, but you allow him to get away with it, perching next to him on the couch. He turns instinctively, meeting your lips in a soft, sweet kiss. “I missed you,” his voice is soft and sweet, a whispered confession of his devotion.
“I missed you too,” you keep your voice soft, adoring the lines of his face with gentle fingers and a sweet smile as he leans into your hand. “How was today?”
Aaron sighs, craning his neck and rubbing a tense spot. “Okay. Better than most.”
You smile and press down on the knots yourself, feeling him melt under your fingertips. You were uniquely skilled in getting him to unwind, and he sighs at the gentle pressure. 
“Yours?”
“It was good, honey,” you whisper, kissing his hairline. He sighs, sinking further into the couch cushions. “Better now.”
He smiles, eyes lighting up despite how heavy they are. “Why’s that?”
“I have time with you now.”
Aaron grins, craning his neck to kiss you. It becomes hungrier, a trace of his tongue to get you to part your lips, and a gasp as you straddle his lap and press further into him.
His hands settle lightly on your hips, the fabric of your pants scrunching under the weight. 
You kiss him more aggressively, pawing at the hem of his t-shirt. 
“Easy,” he whispers. “Not going anywhere.”
“You’re not,” you agree, tugging it off him easily. He smiles into the kiss, tilting his head back as you bite and suck marks into the column of his throat. “Want to move?”
He shakes his head, unbuttoning your dress shirt. “Want you now.”
You smile and laugh softly, rocking your hips against him as the need builds in your core as a result of his kisses and the trails of callused fingers over your sensitive sides. 
“Prove it.”
He grunts against your skin at the demand and the sensation of you rolling your hips against his.
“C’mon, baby, up,” he helps you raise your hips and kick out of your clothing before laying you back on the couch.
You eye him shamelessly, broad, hairy, strong, manly, and so sexy as he removes the rest of his clothing. There’s not much heat, but there is a building need, and more than anything you want to be close.
So you tug him down on top of you, delighting in the surprised rush of air that escapes him as you kiss him hungrily and guide him blindly to the slickness of your cunt.
He rests his forehead to yours, swallowing your needy gasp as he presses into you. “God, you’re so wet,” his voice is so desperate, soft and husky with desire.
“Want you.”
“I want you too,” he whispers it against your lips, rocking into you steadily. “My pretty girl,”
You whimper at the praise. Something about the reverence and adoration in his voice, the domesticity of it, makes it so much more effective and you clench around him. 
“Please, Aaron,” you whine softly, and he nods, dropping his head to the junction of your shoulder and neck, mouthing marks into the skin as he gets sloppier, a hand circling your clit.
It’s when your nails rake down his back that he really loses all sense of self, begging softly and weakly in broken prayers for you to cum around him.
You do, a gentle wash of pleasure. It’s by no means weak, your muscles tensing and twitching as heat and relief roll through you, and you swear your vision blacks out.
Vaguely, faintly, you hear him whining your name before collapsing on you — still catching himself on his forearms, mindful of you even when he’s overwhelmed.
As you catch your breath, you study his sweat slick skin and blown-out eyes, his messy hair now damp with sweat. “Were you waiting for this?”
His crooked grin is all the answer you need, and you hiss as he pulls out, sensitive.
“I love you,” he tells you, kissing your finger right by your ring.
You nod. “I love you too. C’mon, let’s go get clean.”
You overestimate your strength, and he catches you when your legs wobble. 
“Easy, girl,” he laughs and you don’t even have a sarcastic remark in you as he helps you stabilize and walk to the bathroom.
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dedicated to @hotchfiles <3 .. dick so good she (reader) can't even stand right .. me when
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sydlar · 2 days
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imagine being british /pos
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tizniz · 16 hours
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Fuck It Friday 🔅
Han said something to me in a conversation we had earlier: "...writing is a lovely supplement to therapy." And that couldn't be more true with this story. I was having a rough go, was ready to give into som strong urges, and then an hour later, I had this story.
pushing forward (2.3K)
Standing in the dark parking lot, hand resting on the handle of his door, Eddie has a quick mental debate. He knows he can’t just go home. Because this sensation won’t go away until he sees Buck. Until he looks into those blue eyes and garners the truth of what he fears.
OR: A phone call from Buck has Eddie worrying.
READ ON A03
NP tagging: @hippolotamus, @actualalligator, @actuallyitsellie, @bidisasterevankinard, @spotsandsocks, @fortheloveofbuddie, @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove, @theotherbuckley, @daffi-990, @jesuisici33, @cal-daisies-and-briars, @exhuastedpigeon, @theplaceyoustillrememberdreaming, @monsterrae1, @epicbuddieficrecs, @elvensorceress, @eddiebuckley-diaz, @eddiebabygirldiaz, @spagheddiediaz, @wildlife4life, @evanbegins, @devirnis, @loveyouanyway, @perfectlysunny02, @smilingbuckley, @watchyourbuck, @loserdiaz, @excuseme-greentea, @wikiangela, @sunshinediaz, @scknight05, @dangerpronebuddie, @kitteneddiediaz, @incorrect9-1-1, @underwaterninja13, @bigfootsmom, @mountedeverest 🩵
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ofdarklands · 18 hours
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it's 'em
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odyssean-flower · 3 days
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The Winding Path of Fate Chapter 12 - Summer: Photos
Masterpost
Pairing: Neuvillette x Female Reader Summary: The date has ended successfully, but it also brought about an unexpected turn of events
Warnings: None except for the fact that this story is 50% written based on vibes Note: This chapter isn't beta'd so sorry in advance for any typos or rough edges Note 2: If you want to be on the taglist for this fic, please make a reply to this post, send a message or send a private ask
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Have a pic of Neuvillette enjoying some tea
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Previous | Next
“My dear Iudex, are my eyes deceiving me, or is that a smile on your face?”  
Neuvillette raised his gaze from the documents spread out before him. Furina was standing on the other side of his desk. Of course, he had heard her enter his office before she even spoke, but he was so used to her unannounced intrusions these days that he treated it as a part of his daily routine now. I only hope that she makes this quick. I have a rather heavy agenda today, and I would like to return home before dark.  
Furina leaned over his desk, her heterochromatic eyes eagerly scanning the desk for some sort of incriminating evidence to grab onto. Of course, she found none. Neuvillette wasn’t so foolish that he would make such a careless mistake.   
“Hmph, I didn’t know that paperwork could inspire such a joyous expression on one’s face. What a contrast you make with the Gestionnaires outside your door! You really must get out more.”  
“Indeed, I have, thanks to your urging. I believe you’ve already read the note I left you.”  
“Ah, yes, that sorry excuse for a note,” Furina sniffed. “‘Will be away for a day due to personal reasons.’ No mention of where you’re going or who you’ll be with.”  
“I see no reason why I should have included either of those things. I followed all the necessary protocol for requesting leave, as I’m sure you’re aware.”  
“Oh, I am. I’m overjoyed to hear that you’ve been picking up new hobbies lately. It must be the influence of your new wife. If only you’d allow me to meet this remarkable woman so I can thank her.”  
“New hobbies? Whatever do you mean?” Neuvillette ignored that last part.  
“Why, your new hobby of photography, of course!” Furina propped her head on her hands, affecting an air of nonchalance, but her eyes gleamed like a cat that had a tantalizing mouse set in its sights. It was a look that Neuvillette was all too familiar with. “I’ve heard whispers that you’ve sent off a large number of photos to be developed, and that you’ve gone on a recent shopping spree for photo albums. Your day-off seems to have been very fulfilling.”  
“It was, indeed,” Neuvillette nodded. His face gave nothing away. This was also not a surprise and was in fact well within his expectations. He had felt the gazes of Furina’s spies more frequently as of late, but it was not a difficulty for him to evade them. The one who developed the photos for him was a trusted agent of the Marechausee Phantom, and the envelope that contained the finished products (which he had fortunately received well before Furina’s intrusion into his office) hadn’t been tampered with.  
“Oh, I know it was. A boat ride on the sea, huh? How romantic! I didn’t know you had it in you, Neuvillette. All those romance novels I’ve supplied you with seem to have paid off. Oh, if only there had been someone there that day to take a commemorative photo of such an astonishing sight, the Iudex taking a human out on a date!”  
Neuvillette went very still. “Get to the point,” he said, his voice cold.  
Furina’s grin widened. The cat was getting ready to pounce. “It just so happens that a subordinate of mine was out at sea on the very same day that you were out and saw that astonishing sight for himself,” she took out a photo from her pocket and slapped it onto his desk. It was a clear picture of him helping his wife off the boat after they returned to the docks at the Court of Fontaine.   
Neuvillette’s blood ran cold. How could this have happened?  
“Not the most fashionable, is she?” Furina peered at the photo. “I don’t recognize her, so she must not come from a very important family, either. But putting that aside, what a charming couple the two of you make! Honestly, Neuvillette, I do wonder how--”  
"Leave my office. Now.” Neuvillette’s palms slammed against his desk as he rose to his full height, causing Furina to back up a few steps despite herself. He felt an absurd urge to cover the photo with his hands, to protect the image of you from the scrutinizing gaze of an outsider. “You've seen her face now. Be satisfied with that and resign yourself to the fact that you will never meet her.”  
A startled expression appeared on Furina’s face before it was quickly replaced with a smug smile.  
“My, my, Neuvillette,” she purred before plopping herself down on the couch next to his desk and crossing her legs. “I would reconsider, if I were you.”  
"Have I not told you to leave—”  
“Now that I know what your wife looks like, it’ll take very little effort on my part to find out who she is soon enough. My network of informants is extensive, as I know you’re aware. But I’m a magnanimous god, so I shall give you a week to think it over. If you won’t allow me to meet your wife by that time, then I’ll have to take matters into my own hands and find her myself.”  
“You wouldn’t dare. I had expected better of you.”  
“Oh, don’t give me that!” Furina suddenly stood up and marched over to his desk. “You’re the one who won’t agree to a simple meeting! I’d expect you to be more grateful, considering how I’m the one who pushed you to get married! If it weren’t for me, you would never have even thought of approaching this woman, who you clearly care for a great deal, and you’d probably spend the next five hundred years continuing to mope about on your own, never knowing what you could have had!”  
There was a long, tense silence after her rant. “Are you finished here?” Neuvillette said, struggling to suppress the violent tempest of emotions swirling inside his heart.  
“I suppose I am,” Furina stood up. “By the way, Neuvillette, you should be thankful that it was a subordinate of mine who took this photo and gave it directly to me, and not someone from those third-rate tabloids you despise so much. I’d love to see you ignore that scandal away.”  
Neuvillette said nothing, simply glaring at her. His hands were curled into fists at his sides.  
“See you in a week, my dear Iudex. Do pass on my regards to your wife.”  
After saying that, Furina spun around and strode towards the door. It was only after the door closed behind her firmly that Neuvillette leaned back in his chair and let out a long sigh.  
Torrential rain beat against the large window behind him. He wanted to walk into it, to wade into the sea.  
I was too negligent, he cursed himself in his head. I should have been more careful.  
Throughout his long career, he had become adept at evading reporters and paparazzi. And yet, somehow, this happened.   
Anger and fear gripped his heart. He didn’t care what the papers said about him. But the thought of you becoming fodder for them was intolerable.  
The sight of your tear-filled eyes had been like daggers to his heart. He never wanted to see them again.  
He took a sip of water (imported from the frozen rivers of Snezhnaya) to cool his head and gazed at the painting hanging near his desk. By a fortunate twist of fate, you hadn’t signed it. However, its usual calming efficacy was diminished today.  
Neuvillette had wanted to look at the photos again during his break, but now he was too on edge to even think of opening his desk drawer and taking the envelope out. It felt like just the act of it would be exposing its contents to danger, even though he knew that was irrational.   
He could sense the clouds covering the sun outside the window behind him. There would be a downpour on this fine evening, and he silently apologized to the people of Fontaine, and especially to a certain young lady who was doubtless in the garden right about now.  
The sooner I finish my work, the sooner I can return home, he thought, in a vain attempt to calm himself. And give the photos to her. I know she has been waiting for them eagerly. I’m sure she’ll be overjoyed…  
Unconsciously, his feet began tapping against the floor.  
This can still be salvaged, he told himself. Nothing has happened yet. I’ll do whatever it takes to protect her peace.  
Switching back into work mode, Neuvillette sat up once more—and let out a pained grunt. His hair had gotten caught in the cracks of his chair.  
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“Where is this rain coming from? It was clear just a few minutes ago,” you grumbled as you stared up at the lead-colored sky. It had been a beautiful day like it had been for weeks, but for some reason, the clouds decided to unleash their water just as you had finished taking the daily sunflower measurements.  
I bet Neuvillette is enjoying this, you thought as you went to stand under the eaves. It hasn’t rained in quite a while.  
“Madame, it’s raining,” Marie opened the porch door. “You didn’t get wet, did you?”  
“Just a little bit, but it’s nothing too bad. Marie, could you fetch me my umbrella?”  
“You’re still planning to garden in this weather, Madame?”  
“I just want to take one last look. I’ll be done soon.”  
After Marie gave you your umbrella, you marched back out to the plot of sunflowers again.  
The sunflowers were coming along nicely. They now reached the height of your hip and formed small, tightly closed buds. There were no yellow petals peeking through yet, but you were confident that they would appear in the coming weeks.  
You brushed your fingers against the leaves. They were the size of your palm now. You could see little bug bites dotting them. Perhaps you should ask Marie if there were any pesticides on hand.  
It was the evening hours now, though the sun had been in the sky until a few moments ago. Neuvillette should be back by now. Maybe he had a lot of work today? You couldn’t help but feel a sting of disappointment. You had been looking forward to showing him the buds.   
It had been a week since the date. Neuvillette had sent the photos out to be developed, and you would be getting them today. You were a bit excited to see them.  I don’t think I’ve ever taken so many pictures in my life.  
After you finished taking the last measurements, you returned to the house and went up to your room. Your eyes automatically went to the plump azure flower tucked into a vase on your desk. It brought a vibrant splash of color to your elegant but sparse room, and you liked looking at it. It gave you a sense of pleasure. You wondered where Neuvillette put his flower.  
I wonder if it will deflate like a balloon if I stuck a pin into the middle, you thought as you sniffed the flower’s cool fragrance. That would make it easier to press, wouldn’t it?  
Perhaps it was because you talked about pressing flowers on the date, but it had been on your mind lately. Your fingers itched for your old flower press, sitting in your closet back home. The lily would look striking against a white page. If only you picked some of those wildflowers you had seen on Erinnyes and in Merusea Village... they could serve as accompaniment to the lily, which would obviously be the centerpiece, and a strand of blue leaves from the Weeping Willow could be the finishing touch, forming a wreath that framed everything neatly. It would be a beautiful memento of one of the most magical days in your life.  
We picnicked together and took pictures of each other, he showed me all sorts of sights…he even held me in his arms…and I cried in front of him… Gah…  
You resisted the urge to bury your face in your hands. The memories of what you said and done still mortified you a week later. It had been even worse when you got home and was left alone in your bedroom. How you got to sleep that night, you didn’t know.   
You would rather take a dive into the sea than cry in front of people, especially someone like Neuvillette. But on the other hand, if you had to cry, you would rather it be in front of him. Not your parents, not even your sister, but him. You weren’t sure why.  
Neuvillette hadn’t said anything comforting or encouraging, and his hug was honestly a bit stiff and awkward, like he wasn’t used to doing such things. And yet, you felt as though the weight on your shoulders had been lightened just a bit. It wasn’t until then that you realized how you were barely holding yourself up by sheer force of will, like a sunflower with shallow roots and a too-heavy head, on the verge of falling over without a support.   
Neuvillette never brought up that moment again, for which you were grateful. Although, even now you still couldn’t really look at him without a tingling sensation in your heart. He, on the other hand, seemed unchanged. Well, of course he would be. It would be problematic if he did start treating me differently, you told yourself.  
You knew very well that you were not the type of person who people like Neuvillette would think of as a romantic partner, much less a wife. But still, after what you had observed of him and what you heard from the Melusines, you thought that it’d be nice if he did have someone like that. After the divorce, Furina would no doubt start pestering him even harder to find a spouse. It would be smart for him to start finding someone soon. He would probably have to wait a bit before remarrying, though.  
Neuvillette should definitely find someone who’s more of a romantic than me, you laughed at yourself.  
Unfortunately, you were out of your depth when it came to matters of matchmaking. But still, maybe you could keep an eye out for a potential partner. What was Neuvillette’s type, anyway? That would make for an interesting topic to investigate.  
You decided to put this thought aside for now. Neuvillette told you that he wanted to take you to a restaurant next time. You had no idea where he would take you. His taste in food was so peculiar, after all. But you were sure that it would be a high-class, excellent restaurant, wherever it was. You would have to get some suitable clothes for the occasion. I want to make a better effort next time.  
Neuvillette had given you a quite frankly exorbitant amount of spending money. Maybe it was finally time to use it.   
Perhaps it’s a bit pointless…but I still want to do it.  
You sat in your window seat, daydreaming about how your second “date” with Neuvillette would go as you gazed at the setting sun, now peeking out of the clouds after the sudden spell of rain had passed.  
Neuvillette finally returned home by the time the sky was dark. You had already eaten dinner without him and were reading in the parlor when you heard the front door open.  
“Neuvillette,” you called out to him as you went into the foyer. “You came home so late. Did something happen?”  
As you approached him, you noticed how tired and tense he looked. But the fatigue in his face seemed to vanish as he fixed his eyes on you, replaced by something that was almost like relief.  
“Madame,” he greeted you. “My apologies for worrying you. I had a rather busy day. I hope you’ve already eaten dinner?”  
“I have. But have you eaten? If not, I can warm up the leftovers for you, or I can ask Marie to cook something fresh if that’s what you prefer.”  
“I’ve already eaten, but thank you for the consideration. Have you gone out today?”  
“No,” you shook your head, and Neuvillette visibly relaxed. You definitely didn’t imagine that.   
But before any suspicions could form, he spoke again.   
“Madame, I have a surprise for you,” he took a pause there. It took you a moment to realize that he was doing it for dramatic effect. So even he has that side to him...how cute , you thought, trying to hide your smile. “ I received the developed photos today.”  
He took out an envelope from his coat pocket and handed it to you. “They turned out quite well, I must say,” he added.  
The envelope was thick and heavy. You must have taken more than a hundred photos.   
You decided to look through them in the parlor. Neuvillette followed you, and the two of you sat side by side on the couch as you spread the photos out on the coffee table. He was right, they did turn out well. You had been a bit worried that they might come out blurry or at odd angles, but overall, they all looked pretty good, considering the fact that you hadn’t used a Kamera in a long time.  
“You have a very good eye for photography, Madame,” Neuvillette remarked as he picked up a photo of the Weeping Willow. “Have you considered pursuing a career in that field?”  
“Oh, not at all. My old drawing teacher was much better at it than me, enough to make a living out of it, and she taught me a few tricks.”  
“‘Was’? Do you mean...” Neuvillette trailed off.   
“Yes. It was a few years ago.”  
“Ah...I see. I'm sorry to hear that.”  
There was a brief, awkward silence. Neuvillette looked as though he wanted to say something more. You would rather not deal with that, so your eyes roamed around the scattered photos on the table until they landed on something silver. “Oh, my pictures of you!” you said, leaning forward to grab them. “See, what did I tell you, Neuvillette. There’s nothing more picturesque than beautiful scenery and a handsome man.”  
Neuvillette leaned closer towards you to examine the photos for himself. His hair brushed against your shoulder, and you could feel the heat of his body against your arm.  A thought suddenly struck you. If you turned your head right now, your lips would brush against his cheek in the same spot where you had kissed it before.  
Inexplicably, your face turned warm at the thought. The back of your hand tingled.  
Perhaps things didn’t quite remain the same after the date.  
It truly had been a spur of the moment move. Your roiling emotions, aided by the instigation of the Melusines, had pushed you to do it.   
Later that night, as you laid in bed, your mind replaying that scene over and over to an infuriating degree, you had rifled through all the emotions you had felt at that time. Embarrassment, disbelief, a strange sort of elation…  
But the one emotion that had been missing no matter how hard you searched for it, was regret.  
Overt acts of affection had never been your forte, but it seemed like the right thing to do at the time.  
Well, cheek kisses don’t inherently mean anything significant, you had told yourself. Friends do it with each other all the time. And Neuvillette is my friend. A very dear friend. So it’s perfectly fine. Case closed.  
Indeed, Neuvillette didn’t seem to look at you or treat you any differently after the fact, so why should you? No doubt he was used to receiving such acts of intimacy—most likely even more intimate—from people who were far more glamorous than you. A brief brush of lips against his cheek probably meant nothing to him.   
As for the hand kiss, well, that was something that gentlemen like him did. It also didn’t mean anything. It couldn’t.  
The thought that these kisses were all meaningless did sting a little bit, but considering the circumstances, you had no right to complain.   
“I must confess that I do not see what makes these pictures any better than the ones you took of the scenery,” Neuvillette’s voice interrupted your thoughts. His eyes were fixed on the photo, so thankfully he didn’t notice your reddened cheeks. “Or of the Melusines, for that matter.”  
“Well, even if you don’t appreciate them, I do. I’ll treat them like a family treasure.”  
“A family treasure? That’s a bit excessive, is it not?”  
“I don’t think so. These are pretty rare items, aren’t they?”  
Since Neuvillette didn’t appear in public much, there were not many pictures of him outside of the rare interview and official events. Hmm, I wonder how much they’ll sell for? Not that I would ever do that, of course. …Well, maybe if I’m in dire financial straits. I’ll ask for Neuvillette’s permission beforehand if it ever comes to that.  
You went through the remaining photos. Each one sparked a memory. The Weeping Willow, the sea, Merusea Village underwater—you really had been to all those places. With Neuvillette, no less. The entirety of that day was only known to the two of you.   
The days after your date had been so mundane and normal that you were half-convinced that it had all been a strange dream. Thoughts and memories were such mutable things, after all. Someone like you on a date with the Chief Justice? Not even in your wildest delusions would something like that ever happen. But these pictures were proof that it did.   
You knew that you would probably think back on that day for the rest of your life, holding it close to your chest like a treasured gemstone and taking it out whenever times got tough. A sparkling memory of your youth that you would smile back fondly upon in your autumn years, a lone glimmering star in the dark that would inspire you move forward…  
Wait, why am I getting so sappy and sentimental? Just because of a date? Ugh, come on now.  
You glanced at Neuvillette, who was currently enjoying a glass of water (imported from Inazuma). You doubted that he felt the same way as you about the date. It was probably just like a drop of water in a vast ocean to him.  
That thought pricked at you, but you chose to ignore it.   
You sifted through the pictures until you came across a certain snapshot. Just as you were about to flip it over, a gloved finger pressed down against the photo, stopping you.  
“This one is my favorite,” Neuvillette said. Once again, his face was right next to yours, but you couldn’t read his expression.   
“Because you were the one who took it?”  
“No,” he said, then turned his head towards you. “Because it’s of you.”  
“Neuvillette…” you said after a short silence. You fidgeted with your reddened fingertips. “I don’t understand how you can say things like that with such a straight face.”  
“Is it truly so strange?” Neuvillette looked perplexed. “I was simply saying my true feelings. And it is not as though you have refrained from such comments either.”  
“You do have a point,” you conceded, although that still didn’t mean it didn’t catch you off guard. You turned your attention back to the photo of you. To be honest, it didn’t turn out half bad. Sure, you looked incredibly stiff and awkward and your hair was a mess and you had no idea what you were thinking when you matched that sweater with that skirt, but…it could have turned out worse.   
“May I keep this photo?” Neuvillette asked.  
“Of course, but what will you do with it? Surely you aren’t going to put it on your office desk or anything, right?”  
“No, of course not. I would put it in a drawer, so I may take it out and look at it whenever I like.”  
“Why would you want to do that?”  
“Is it so wrong for a husband to want to look at a picture of his wife every once in a while? Many of the Palais staff also keep pictures of their loved ones on their desks. Why shouldn’t I?” Neuvillette paused for a little bit before adding, “And it would be one way for me to see your face more often, considering how I don’t get many chances of that during the day.”  
“Hmm…very well, then,” you didn’t quite get why he would want to see more of your face, but if it made him happy, then you supposed there was nothing to complain about. Neuvillette is actually quite good at this kind of thing, you thought to yourself. Just imagine what he would be like when he gets married to someone he loves.  
Now you really felt bad about your (hypothetical) future plans about selling Neuvillette’s photos. I’m an insensitive boor compared to him.  
You reached the last of the photos. It was the one of you and Neuvillette standing in front of the sunset.  
“You made two copies for the both of us,” you said as you looked at them. “How thoughtful.”  
As you gazed at the pictures, you couldn’t help but feel a complex mixture of emotions. There was a surrealness to this photo that the others lacked. If this were a novel, this would be the point where you would wake up and return to reality after discovering something out of place in your life. No matter how you looked at it, you and Neuvillette were mismatched. Two people who were only brought together because of a weird quirk of fate.   
But on the other hand…it was a beautiful photo. You had been somewhat worried that the two of you wouldn’t be centered in the frame, but it turned out well. The sunset made for a lovely backdrop. Even though both of you were looking very stiff, and neither of you were smiling.   
You remembered that moment clearly. In those few minutes, you felt as light as a feather, like there was nothing tying you to the ground.  
Would you ever feel that way again?   
“I’m also very fond of this one,” Neuvillette said next to you. When you turned your head, you saw that he was not looking at the photos, but at you. It was then that you realized you were smiling. For some reason, you turned your head away.   
“I just realized something,” you said, to cover up the awkward moment. “I’ve taken so many pictures, but I’ve got nowhere to put them all.”  
“Ah, about that,” there was an excitement, subdued but present, in his voice. He sounded the same as he did when he introduced you to some new exotic variety of water. “I have a surprise for you. Please, come with me to my study.”  
A surprise from Neuvillette? You had an inkling as to what it could be, but that didn’t stop you from putting all the photos back in the envelope and following him upstairs to his study, a domain you had yet to step into. It was a smaller version of his office at the Palais Mermonia, with its large desk, soft rugs, and tall bookshelves that lined the walls. There was also a fireplace here and a cozy-looking couch.  
As Neuvillette went to take something out of a cabinet, you covertly examined the shelves. They were mainly filled with books on law, human psychology, history (most of which you’ve already read, having borrowed them from the library), and other similarly serious topics. Oddly enough, you even spotted a few romance novels. They were the fluffy, self-indulgent kind that your mother and sister liked to read. Should I pretend I never saw them?  
“Madame, here it is,” Neuvillette said, and you walked over to the desk, where there was a large, leather-bound album with metal corners.  
“Oh, Neuvillette, you shouldn’t have!” you exclaimed, flipping through the album. There should be just enough space to put all the pictures from your date in it. You looked up to thank him, but was met with the sight of Neuvillette taking out yet another album from the cabinet. This one was wider, with a ribbon tied into a neat bow on the spine. Perhaps Neuvillette bought a second album, just in case the first one wouldn’t fit all your pictures?  
But, as though to dash all reasonable explanations, Neuvillette took out another album from the cabinet, then another. It seemed never-ending, this deluge of albums. After a while, it became sort of funny, like a comedy sketch. You watched, open-mouthed, as the desk became covered with albums of all shapes and sizes.   
Finally, after the tenth one, the deluge stopped. Neuvillette looked at you expectantly. “Well, Madame, which one do you prefer?”  
“Wait a minute, let me get this right,” you said, backing up a step and surveying the desk. “You bought all these albums just for me to choose one?”  
“Yes, I did,” Neuvillette said, nodding as though this was a perfectly normal thing to do. Was this how the minds of the wealthy worked? It was beyond your comprehension. “I was unsure which one would be most to your liking, so I decided to buy them all.”  
“Oh, Neuvillette, you really shouldn’t have…” you said. “This is too excessive. Why didn’t you ask me to come with you when you went shopping? And you know I’d like anything you picked out for me.”  
“I wanted it to be a surprise…” Neuvillette said. He looked a bit deflated, and you felt bad.   
“Can you return them?”  
“It would be highly inconvenient for the shopkeeper if I did so,” Neuvillette said, then added in an abashed tone, “And I was told that all sales are final.”  
“How unfortunate,” you looked down at the desk again. Was it possible for anyone to fill up all these albums in their lifetime? Maybe if they had a lifespan as long as Neuvillette’s. “Maybe they could make an exception for the Iudex?”  
“I would rather not use my position in such a manner.”  
“Well then, how about we give them away?”  
“Give them away…” Neuvillette considered your words. “I-I suppose that could work… it is a reasonable idea. Yes, quite reasonable indeed.”  
Neuvillette…if only you could see the look on your face right now. He looked like a kicked puppy. However, you decided to hold your tongue.  
“Hmm, on second thought, it would be quite rude of me to give away presents from my generous husband,” you said. “I’ll keep them all. Thank you, Neuvillette.”  
You patted his hand. He looked down at your hand on top of his, his eyes unreadable. He lightly brushed his fingers against your own.   
“You need not force yourself to accept them if you do not want them,” he said quietly.   
“But I do want them. They’re from you, after all. We’ll just have to take plenty more photos to get your money’s worth.”  
“‘We?’”  
“Yes, ‘we.’ Did you expect me to fill up these albums all on my own?”  
“Certainly, it would be more efficient if we worked together,” Neuvillette nodded to himself. “Very well, then, Madame. I will assist you in this endeavour.”   
With that settled, you decided to put the date photos in the first brown leather album. It had a vintage look to it that you liked.  
“It’s getting late, Madame. You should be going to bed soon,” Neuvillette informed you.   
“What about you?” Neuvillette didn’t seem to be making any moves to retire for the night just yet.  
“There are a few more matters that I need to take care of, but do not worry, it won’t take very long.”  
“Okay then,” you nodded, stepping towards the door. But just as you were about to leave the study, you thought of something. “By the way, Neuvillette, when will we be going on that restaurant date? I know you’re quite busy these days, so I can wait as long it takes. Do you have a restaurant in mind? I’m perfectly happy to go with any one you choose. Oh, and I know I promised to attend a trial, but I’m not fond of the very loud and chaotic ones, so which of the upcoming ones would you recommend?”  
“I’m afraid, Madame, that we have to put a hold on both of those arrangements. A few…unexpected matters have come up, so we will not be able to go anywhere together for a while.”  
“Oh. I see. Well, I suppose it can’t be helped,” a sharp sense of disappointment pierced your heart. It seemed that you had been looking forward to it more than you expected.   
“Madame, are you enjoying your life as it is right now?” Neuvillette asked you out of the blue.  
“Huh? What brought this on all of a sudden?”  
“Please answer my question.” There was an undercurrent of urgency in his voice.   
“I…” you had to think about it for a moment. “I do. Of course I do. I never want for anything, and everyone has treated me with nothing but kindness. I can’t even begin to repay them all, really.”  
“I see. Then, is this the sort of life you’d prefer to live?”  
“What do you mean?”  
“A quiet, peaceful life, where you are never bothered by anyone.”  
“I…suppose so? I think most people would want that.”  
“I see…” Neuvillette stared at his desk, seemingly deep in thought. Then, he looked up at you. “You should go to bed now. It is getting too late.”  
“What…” but he was already ushering you towards the door before you could say anything more.  
You observed him as he stood in the doorway. He was an unreadable cipher, but you sensed a resolve emanating from him, like he had made up his mind about something.   
“Good night, Madame,” he said quietly.   
“Good night, Neuvillette.”  
You felt like you had to say something, but you weren’t sure what.   
He saved you the effort by gently closing the study door on you. The sense of giddiness had all but completely dissipated. You felt like a deflated balloon.  
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Your unease wasn’t dispelled the next morning.   
At the breakfast table, Neuvillette was reading the newspapers. This wasn’t unusual in itself. It was part of his morning routine. What was unusual was how intensely he was looking through them.   
You looked at the headlines of the paper he was reading. There was nothing there that would warrant that deep furrow in his brow. At least, not to your knowledge. Perhaps there was some sort of secret investigation going on?   
“Madame, would you like to read the paper?” Neuvillette’s voice broke through your thoughts. It was then that you realized that you had been leaning forward and squinting your eyes to read the newspaper print. “I’m nearly done with it.”  
“Oh, no, I was just wondering if something happened, since you seem to be engrossed in them.”  
“No,” Neuvillette paused before replying. “I was simply looking for something.”  
“I see,” you said, then cut a piece of pancake and popped it into your mouth. After swallowing, you continued, “Is it work related?”  
“I…would not say so,” Neuvillette said. It was strange for him to be so evasive, but maybe it was one of those things he wasn’t at liberty to tell you.   
“By the way, Neuvillette, I’m going to start on the albums today. You’ve given me a great burden to carry, but I’m willing to take it on.”  
You were teasing him a bit, but in truth, you were a bit excited. Your teacher had a whole shelf of albums that were filled with photos from her travels throughout Teyvat, and you had pleasant memories of flipping through them and asking her the stories behind each photo. Of course, you wouldn’t be able to replicate her on that scale, but the Court of Fontaine was as good a start as any. You had even thought up a sort of system as to which area you would cover each day and what you would photograph, which you explained to Neuvillette.  
“You plan on going out into the city today, Madame?” Neuvillette asked after you finished speaking. He put down the papers and stared at you.  
“Er, yes?” you answered hesitantly. He seemed strangely preoccupied with your answer. “Is there something wrong with that?”  
“…No, not at all,” Neuvillette said after another pause. His lips were pressed together in a thin line. “Where do you plan to go?”  
“Just the plaza…” you said, raising your eyebrows at how grave he sounded. “And maybe the Palais.”  
“Do not go to the Palais,” Neuvillette spoke abruptly. His face was all seriousness. “Please, promise me that. If you have any business there, ask me. I will assist you with it.”  
You stared at him, wide-eyed. “What do you mean, I can’t go to the Palais? Did I do something wrong?”   
“No, of course not,” he said quickly.   
“Then why can’t I go there?”  
“I cannot tell you, but I assure you that I only have your safety and happiness in mind when I am asking you to not to go anywhere near the Palais. Please, Madame, promise me this.”  
You stared into his violet eyes, trying to gauge what he was thinking. There was a note of desperate urgency in his voice you had only heard once before, not to mention the weightiness of his words. “I promise,” you found yourself saying.  
“Thank you, Madame,” Neuvillette was visibly relieved. His shoulders relaxed and he closed his eyes for a second before opening them again.   
“Neuvillette, what’s going on?” you demanded. “You’re acting strange. Did something happen?”  
“Do not worry. I will take care of everything,” he said, not answering your questions at all. He stood up, and you did the same, intending on getting to the bottom of this.   
The two of you headed to the door. “You’re hiding something,” you said, glaring up at him. He met your gaze, then looked away. “It has something to do with me, doesn’t it?”  
“I’ll take care of it. Please don’t worry,” he repeated, then attempted a smile. “Focus on your photography project. I cannot to wait to see the finished product. And…Madame, if you see any suspicious persons lingering around you, you must tell one of the Melusines right away.”  
“Huh?” you gape at him, but he simply bid you goodbye and left the house. You watched him get into the carriage and set off.   
For such a stoic man, he’s actually quite terrible at hiding his feelings at times, you thought.   
Your outing at the plaza went mostly as planned. You were able to take many pictures of the fountain, the hulking Meka walking around, and the street performers. The patrolling Melusines, once you told them what you were doing, became quite enthusiastic and asked for you to take their pictures as well. It would have been a great day, if it weren’t for the gray skies and the heaviness of your heart.  
Neuvillette’s behavior at home did nothing to quell it. Though he did his best to hide it, but he was obviously stressed and worn out. He would eagerly ask you about your day but seemed distracted by his thoughts as you talked, and rebuffed your questions, whether they were innocuous or direct, when you tried to probe him for answers. He came home later than usual and worked into the late nights in his study.  
Over the next few days, you continued your urban outings, criss-crossing the city to take more pictures. You ate lunch outside and people-watched as you sat at your table. Often, a Melusine would join you. Being able to spend time in such a carefree, leisurely way would have been an unattainable dream to the past you, but you couldn’t enjoy it fully, not when you were always worried about Neuvillette at the back of your mind. He definitely seems more haggard these days. Is he eating well? I hope he isn’t just drinking water and passing that off as having lunch.  
“Are you not hungry, Madame?” a sleepy-sounding voice broke through your reverie. It belonged to Menthe, who was sitting across from you. “You’re not eating your fish and chips.”  
You looked down. The savory dish, deep-fried to a golden brown, was one of your favorite treats, but not something you ate often, and yet you found yourself with zero appetite.   
“I suppose I’m not,” you sighed. “You can have it if you like.”  
“Oh, really, Madame? Thank you!”  
You watched as Menthe happily dug in. She had accompanied you to this café after you decided to take a lunch break.   
I wonder if the Melusines are in on this too, you thought. It wasn’t unusual for Melusines to come up to you when you were walking around town, but you couldn’t help but notice that there seemed to be an awful lot of them at the places you went to. The places where you told Neuvillette you would be.   
They were as cheerful and talkative as ever, but you also noticed how intently their bright gazes flitted around, even when they chatted with you, almost as though they were on the lookout for something.  
You considered several possibilities and narrowed it down to two: One, there was a serial killer on the loose, or some other crazed criminal, who was after you. Two, your relationship had somehow been exposed to the paparazzi.   
It was doubtful that Neuvillette would let you leave the house if there was a killer after you. And why would someone want to kill you, anyway? For marrying Neuvillette? What a lame reason for murder. Then again, some of his more extreme fans were known for their passion…  
The second option seemed more likely. However, you had scoured all the tabloids for any articles on the matter, and while you did find some claiming that Neuvillette was involved with some woman or another, none of them were you (although you didn’t feel as relieved as you ought to have, for some reason). If you knew anything about these kinds of publications, it was that if they caught wind of something juicy, like the Chief Justice being in a secret relationship, they would waste no time in making that their headline, no matter how flimsy the evidence was.  
Thinking back on it now, you and Neuvillette definitely hadn’t been as discreet as you could have been. The two of you had been in public together enough times that someone could get suspicious.  
It would be easy to deny it though, you mused. In most of those cases, we were just talking or walking together. Just because a man and woman are together, it doesn’t mean they’re a married couple.  
Whatever the case was, you wished Neuvillette would talk to you about it.  
If it has something to do with me, then just tell me, you thought. You were now back home and staring up at the ceiling of your room. Why all the secrecy? It’s clearly stressing him out.  
Sure, there was probably very little you could do to help, but…but…  
Why are you acting so presumptuous? A small voice whispered in your mind. Didn’t Neuvillette say he would take care of everything? When will anyone ever offer to do that for you again?  
Yeah, but… you argued back. I shouldn’t just sit back and do nothing! It’s unfair to him.   
What does fairness mean in a relationship like this? What can you, a baron’s daughter, do for the Chief Justice of Fontaine that he can’t do for himself? If he doesn’t want you to know about something, it’s for your own good, just like last time. He clearly doesn’t expect you to do anything. What you can do to put him at ease is living your own life carefreely and supporting him at home.  
But… you struggled to come up with an argument. Or maybe, you were unwilling to.   
Your bed was nice and comfy, and your room was cozy. The sunlight streamed through the lace curtains of the window. If you wanted to, you could run a bath and soak in it for an hour, or read at your window seat, or ask Marie to make a snack for you. You could do anything you wanted.  
You continued to lie on your bed until dinner time.  
Neuvillette didn’t come home until very late at night. By that time, you were already in bed.  
The next day was grayer than usual. It rained all day. As you were in no mood to undertake the challenge of photographing in the rain, you decided to stay home and brush up on your science. You had neglected your studies for far too long.  
As you rifled through a notebook, you suddenly came upon a nearly blank page. It was titled “List of Neuvillette’s associates.”  
You remembered writing those words all those months ago. It seemed like an eternity had passed since then. You resisted the urge to bury your face in your hands again at the memories of your embarrassing behavior. It was a wonder that Neuvillette hadn’t changed his mind and married someone more well-adjusted after all that.   
You glanced at the Lakelight Lily on your desk. It looked a little less plump than before, but its refreshing scent was still there. You recalled Neuvillette’s words as he put in your hair.  
He was always so considerate and thoughtful. What’s more, you could tell he genuinely meant it. He never failed to ask after your comfort and health. He inquired about your family on a regular basis when he didn’t need to. He even accepted your awkward offer of friendship when he could have just ignored you.  
You still had no idea what possessed him to ask you to marry him. He probably would have had an easier time if he had picked anyone else. No, not just anyone. Whoever he married should be just as kind and caring as him. Someone accomplished and beautiful. Someone who he could proudly show off in public as his spouse. Someone who could teach him the “joys of matrimony.”  
But until he finds that mythical someone, he’s stuck with me.   
Resolve formed in your heart.  
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Neuvillette came home late again that night, but this time, you stayed up. You listened to his footsteps as he went down the hallway to his study. After you heard the door close, you sat up in bed.  
Okay, let’s do this, you cheered yourself on, then put on your robe and slipped out of your room.   
You padded down the carpeted floor towards the study. You found yourself walking on your tiptoes for some reason.   
The mahogany door seemed to you like an imposing barrier. It wasn’t too late to turn around and crawl back into bed. You were sorely tempted to.  
But I’m here on a mission and I’m going to see it through no matter what, you told yourself firmly.  
You raised your hand and knocked on the door. “Neuvillette,” you called out. “May I come in? I would like to speak with you.”  
A scraping sound came from inside. “Madame?” Neuvillette said as he opened the door. “What are you doing up so late?”  
You opened your mouth to answer, but your jaw remained hanging open as you took in the sight before you.  
Forearms. The words popped into your mind out of nowhere. Neck.    
Neuvillette’s usual long blue robes were nowhere to be found. For that reason, he was only wearing a white dress shirt, and his hair was unbound. That wasn’t what made you speechless. You had seen him in that state plenty of times before. No, what stunned you was the fact that his sleeves were rolled up and that the first two buttons of his shirt were undone. Without his clothing obscuring them, you were able to feast your eyes on the sight of his sinewy arms and the smooth, unblemished skin at the juncture between his neck and collarbones.   
He was usually so covered-up, even at home, that seeing so much of his skin exposed felt akin to seeing him naked. Oh no, don’t think about that, don’t think about that…    
“Madame? Madame, is something the matter?” Neuvillette’s voice broke through your thoughts, which were heading in a rather dangerous direction. To your extreme embarrassment, you realized that your mouth was hanging open slightly. No wonder he looked so concerned. I feel like a giant pervert. No, I am one!   
“Um, er…it’s nothing!” your voice came out in a higher octave. You took a step backward. This is just wonderful.  
“Are you sure? Your face looks a bit red,” Neuvillette stood up. “You shouldn’t be staying up so late, especially if you might be sick.”  
“Oh, no, no, I assure you, I am definitely not sick, not at all,” you babbled, even as the words “forearms” and “neck” danced through your head. “I really just wanted to talk to you. It’s urgent.”  
“If it’s urgent, then please come in,” Neuvillette gestured for you to enter his study. His shirt shifted slightly with the movement, exposing a sliver more of his chest. You wanted to cover your eyes.  
You entered the study. Neuvillette sat back down in his chair and looked at you. You looked at him. Or rather, you looked at the air above him.  
“Madame, what is this urgent matter you wish to discuss with me?” he asked. He looked terribly concerned, and you didn’t blame him. The way you were acting right now was definitely a cause for worry.  
“I…um…want to…uh…you know…” you gestured with your hands. “I want to…brush your hair! Yes, brush your hair. I’ve noticed how…dishevelled it gets when you come home, so I would like to fix that. Yes, that’s it.”  
“You…wish to brush my hair?” Neuvillette repeated, sounding confused.  
You nodded vigorously. “And talk,” you added.  
“I see,” he still looked confused, but he stood up and went to the door. “I shall go get my hairbrush, then.”  
“Please do so,” you said, and watched him go to his room. Once he was gone, you buried your face in one of the pillows on the couch and screamed.  
What was going on with you? Why were you getting so worked up over skin? It wasn’t as though you were some sheltered maiden who never saw shirtless men before. And Neuvillette wasn’t even shirtless! And just what would he look like without his shirt on, anyways?  
“Stop it,” you told yourself. “Stop it right now. Think about something else.”  
“Pardon me, Madame?” Neuvillette’s voice made you jolt upright. “Did you say something? And why are you lying on the couch?”  
“It’s nothing,” you quickly got up and clasped your hands together, making yourself the picture of composure and self-possession, ignoring the voice in your head that told you it wasn’t too late to excuse yourself and run back to your room. “Please forget what you just saw. I am perfectly fine.”  
You held out your hand for the hairbrush, and Neuvillette gave it to you after some hesitation. The hairbrush was silver, its back carved with a swirling design. It was heavy and cool in your hand. You tried to picture Neuvillette brushing his hair with it every morning, like a princess in a fairytale, and had to suppress a (most likely crazed-looking) smile.  
He sat down in his chair, and you stood behind him. You slowly ran the brush through his silver locks, careful not to touch his horns. You did this in silence for a few moments. It had a strangely calming effect on you—you felt your heartbeat settling down, your mind becoming clearer. The fact that you couldn’t see his face was also helpful.  
“Neuvillette,” you began. “I know that you’ve been hiding something from me. I would like you to reveal it to me.”  
You heard him let out a sigh. He tried to turn his head, but you prevented him from doing so. “Madame, I have already explained to you that it is nothing for you to worry about. Please allow me to take care of it. It was caused by my own oversight in the first place.”  
“I am allowing you to take care of it. But I would still like to know what it is.”  
“It will only distress you, and I do not wish to do that.”  
“I will be the judge of what distresses me. And besides, seeing you obviously so troubled by this matter already makes me feel wretched, so there is really nothing to lose here.”  
“My apologies. I will work harder to mask my feelings as to not affect your mood.”  
“Neuvillette, that’s not the point I’m making,” you groaned as you worked to loosen a particularly tough tangle in his hair. “Right now, not knowing what’s troubling you is causing me more distress than whatever this mysterious ‘something’ is.”  
“I do not believe you would think the same way once you learned what it is.”  
“How do you know that?” you asked. Realizing that you had raised your voice, you quickly softened it. “Let me put this another way. This is how I’m repaying you.”  
“Repaying me?”   
“Yes. For listening to me, for allowing me to cry into your arms on our date. Do you know, Neuvillette, that it’s been a long time since I was able to vent my feelings to someone like that? I’ve forgotten how nice it feels. It…really saved me. And I want to do the same thing for you. I don’t know if I’ll be able to do anything, but it’s easier to come up with a solution when you’re discussing things with someone else, isn’t it?”  
Neuvillette didn’t say anything. He didn’t move. But you could tell that he was wavering. You picked up the ends of his long hair and brushed them. You needed to give him one last push.  
“If you don’t inform me about matters that are related to me, then I see no reason why I should tell you anything more about myself.”  
“Madame, what are you implying?” there was a note of what almost sounded like panic in Neuvillette’s voice.   
“That’s right. If you do not tell me your secret, I shall not speak to you ever again for the remainder of our marriage. You will lose the privilege of conversing with me.”  
You had expected him to let out a chuckle or something. You hadn’t meant it seriously. Well, maybe a little. You were feeling a bit frustrated.  
What you didn’t expect was that he would wrench himself out of your grip and turn around to face you. His lips were pressed together tightly, but his eyes were wide. His gaze burned through you.  
“I will tell you,” he said, voice almost too calm. “So please reconsider. It will pain me greatly if you go through with it.”  
“I won’t,” you said, caught off guard.  
He turned back around. After taking a pause, he told you about the photo Furina obtained, and the ultimatum she gave him. You listened to him intently as he talked, brushing the bottom half of his hair and occasionally untangling snarls.   
After he finished speaking, you took a few minutes to digest what you’ve just heard.  
“So, no one else except Lady Furina has that photo?”  
“Yes.”  
“You don’t believe that she would lie or go back on her promise?”  
“In this matter, I do not believe she would.”  
“I see,” you put down the brush, then moved yourself to meet Neuvillette’s eyes. “Then, I agree to the meeting. I think that’s the most reasonable thing to do here. In hindsight, we should have done it a long time ago. It would have saved us all this trouble.”  
“You agree to it?” Neuvillette repeated, sounding stunned.   
“Well, it was either this or let Lady Furina dig up my sordid past and do whatever she wants with that information, right? Besides, what’s so scary about a meeting? Plenty of people from all walks of life have made appointments with her, including my own great-grandparents. If they could do it, so can I. And I’ll have you there with me, so there’s really nothing to worry about.”  
“But once she meets you face-to-face, you will become known to her. You will not be able to live the peaceful life that you desire.”  
Oh, so that’s why he asked that question, you thought.   
“Well, we don’t know that, do we? For all we know, once she meets with us, she would judge that we are a perfectly uninteresting couple and leave us alone for the rest of the year.”  
“That is unlikely to happen,” Neuvillette murmured. “And what if she discovers our arrangement?”  
“She won’t if we don’t do anything that would reveal it to her. You know the saying, ‘Where there’s smoke, there’s fire.’ As long as we don’t do anything that would make her want to go through the records in the license office, we should be fine.” A thought suddenly struck you. “She can’t…prevent us from divorcing, can she? Or force us to remarry?”  
“There are no laws that grant her the powers to do those things. But, I expect that she could make life difficult for you, should she choose to do so.”  
“Hmm…” you thought. “Well, I’ll just think about what to do when that time comes.”  
“Madame,” Neuvillette rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Please don’t be so irresponsible about your own future. This is why I did not wish to tell you. I did not want you to push yourself needlessly for my sake.”  
“Push myself needlessly? I see things differently. There’s no guarantee that things will go smoothly, but that’s just life, isn’t it? All I know is that if we don’t do anything, it will most likely turn out badly for us. So I would rather choose the other option.”  
You sounded braver than you felt. In this cozy, quiet study with Neuvillette, where you were the only people who would ever know the words exchanged in this room, it was easy to feel self-assured and optimistic about the unknown. Perhaps this was also its own sort of danger.   
But when you looked at Neuvillette’s worried face, you found it easier to feel brave.  
“Neuvillette, do you remember the promise I made to you on that first night? I promised to make sure that your life is as inconvenienced as possible. This is how I’m trying to fulfill it. Will you allow me to do that?”  
“You need not go that far. You have never inconvenienced me, not even now. In fact, you have been a reassurance. It was due to my folly that we got into this situation in the first place.”  
“If it was your folly, then it was mine as well. I should have also been paying attention,” you let out a sigh. “Look, Neuvillette, we can go around in circles about this all night, but when you get down to it, it is for situations like these that you married me. You didn’t marry me because you liked me in that way. Oh, don’t look at me like that. You know it’s true. If I don’t do my part, then I’m just a freeloader living in your house, right?”  
“I have never thought of you as a ‘freeloader’… I have always considered you as my wife,” Neuvillette said curtly, but then he smiled at you gently. “You’ve made some very good points. You are correct. It was irresponsible of me to hide it from you. I still have much to learn when it comes to how a husband ought to behave, it seems.”  
A warm, tingling feeling spread through your body when you heard his words. He thought of you as his wife. Well, of course he did, since you were officially married and all. But hearing him call you “my wife” was an entirely different thing.  
“That’s my job, as your wife. To discuss problems and come up with solutions with you. And from now on, please tell me whenever you’re feeling troubled over something. I’m inadequate in many things, but I’ve been told that I’m a good listener,” you said, fiddling with your fingers. You felt your mouth stretching into a wide smile for no reason and looked down to hide it.  
“I will. My apologies for all the distress I’ve caused you. I will tell Furina tomorrow about our decision.”  
You and Neuvillette held each other’s gazes for longer than was necessary. In the dim light of the study, his eyes looked darker, obscuring his slitted pupils. You felt weak-kneed all of a sudden. You realized that you had been running on adrenaline until now, but you didn’t feel sleepy. In fact, you were wide awake.  
“Will you go to bed now?” he asked. His voice was lower, huskier than usual.  
You shook your head. “Will you?”  
“I still have some work to do.”  
“Then I’ll stay up with you. Since I’m your wife and all.”  
Neuvillette looked like he was about to argue, but you went over to one of the bookshelves and took out a history book, then went to curl up on the couch. “Feel free to disregard me,” you said, opening the book.  
After a few seconds, you heard an exhale, then the resuming of a pen scratching against paper.  
You didn’t know when you fell asleep, but when you woke up, you were in your bed with the comforter neatly pulled up to your chin. You were quite sure you had a dream, but didn’t recall its contents except for the instinctive knowledge that it was a good one.  
You also had the vague memory of feeling something warm brushing against your forehead, but it was so brief and fleeting that it might have been part of the dream as well.  
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Cassie and Kon
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heartache
˚ ༘ ೀ⋆。˚⋆˚🐾˖°⋆。°🎧•‧.₊˚🐰‎₊˚⋆⭒。⋆୨୧˚˚ ༘ ೀ⋆。˚⋆˚🐾˖°⋆。°🎧•‧.₊˚🐰‎₊˚⋆⭒
You oftentimes imagine what he would be like in the real world. When he isn’t barricading himself in his room, eyes glued to a computer screen doing his studies or blank wall, thoughts he only whispers to himself. What would he look like at a table with friends, chatting and laughing and joking? Does he smile at people when they walk down he street? What does he wear when he goes out with friends? Are you his friend?
Does he think of you?
A tap at your temple and you turn your head. His eyes pool into your very soul, emotion hidden at such depths and yet you can see it bubbling at the surface. The smallest twinkle in the corner of his eye.
“Go to sleep.”
“I’m just thinking.”
Your voice could not be more opposite of one another. Sunrises with dewy grass and a swirling, dark storm in the afternoon after work that make you look out of your car window with worry.
“You think too much.”
And you smile at that, laugh even, as you pull the covers closer to your neck to shield the inevitable heat that sparks beneath your skin as he stares at you like that. He lifts a hand and covers your face with a pillow, turning his head when you giggle.
As your laugher dies down, you wonder what he looks like at the grocery store with his mother, carrying a basket or pushing a cart down the isles as he plucks condiments or intently listens to her as she rambles on and on about what dish she’ll make for dinner.
His back is turned to you- he never sleeps when he comes over, only drifting for an hour or two before he wakes up at the crack of dawn to leave. The ache never dulls for you as he caresses your face, the only allowance of affection he grants you, urging you to go back to sleep.
“Rest all day.” He tells you, leering down at you with an indistinguishable glint in his eyes. You’re pouting, he leans down to give you a kiss on the forehead before he pulls away to put on his hoodie and lace up his shoes.
You trail after him, wearing a large thrifted shirt and sleep lathering your under eyes.
“See ya.”
“Text me when you’re home and have a good rest.” His arms wrap around yours, pulling the puttied version of you into his arms. Your unkept, slept in hair tickles his chin and he angles himself down to press a kiss to the crown of your head.
He lets you go, and you shut the door behind him, trailing back to bed and adoringly gazing at the ruffled sheets on his (and your cat’s) side of the bed. There’s a deep ache in your gut, and yet you feel lighter than ever.
As you curl into bed, you pull out your phone and send him a text. Part of you feels needy, embarrassed, a school girl, but you don’t stop yourself.
Sweet dreams! Drive safe ⸜(。˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡
There’s no text back until later in the middle of the day. He thumbs down your message. A simple picture of him curled up in his bed, eyes closed with a silly grin on his face. Your heart pitter pats, and yet the back of your mind reminds you that this is supposed to be nothing. To quell that feeling, to stomp on it and squish it before you fall too deep and get yourself hurt.
But you find yourself texting him with your bottom lip drawn between your teeth, still store from where he sucked and nipped and played.
Will you come over next weekend?
We'll see.
˚ ༘ ೀ⋆。˚⋆˚🐾˖°⋆。°🎧•‧.₊˚🐰‎₊˚⋆⭒。⋆୨୧˚˚ ༘ ೀ⋆。˚⋆˚🐾˖°⋆。°🎧•‧.₊˚🐰‎₊˚⋆⭒
cue your emotionally unavailable fav
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kingtomura · 8 hours
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Deja Vu | 2 | The Girl Who Cried Wolf
summary: Your best friend died years ago. He went up in flames until there was nothing left — so why does it feel like you can still see him sometimes? content: touya todoroki x female reader, childhood friends au, reader has a quirk, time skipping, flashbacks, fluff, heavy angst, soft touya, hurt/comfort, tragedy, virginity loss, vaginal fingering, piv, smut with feelings, mdni wc: 9.2k | Prev | Chapter 3 | m. list | read on ao3
You’ve never been good at hide-and-seek. 
“Touya,” you yell into the crisp air of the forest, “this isn’t funny!” You’ve been at this for what feels like forever and it’s just not working. 
You can’t find him. 
The wind was chilling you to the bone and it was almost dinner time. This was becoming more and more pointless as the minutes ticked by. You just wanted to find him so you both could go eat. 
“Okay, well if you’re not gonna come out then I don’t wanna play anymore!” You shout, fully ready to turn tail and get out of there. 
You hear a groan from the bushes and Touya emerges, his hair now white on one side and red on the other. 
“You’re no fun.” He chides. “What are you gonna do when you have to find a villain?”
“I’ll find them, of course! But not on an empty stomach.” You huff, just glad that he’s stopped messing around and you can both head back now. 
You are both six years old and Touya’s passion for becoming the number one hero burns brighter each passing day. You can only imagine what the coming years will be like.
Touya stood up fully, brushing the residual snow from his pants, forever unbothered by the cold. “Right… whatever you say.” 
In that moment your stomach growls and Touya raises a brow.
Frustration makes itself known again as you stomp your foot in the white snow, cheeks flushing in embarrassment. “We were at this for so long! I’m tired. And cold.”
“You’re always cold.” He muses, walking towards you and taking your hand. 
You shrug, ducking your nose into your scarf to avoid being called Rudolph again, as Touya loves to do. Instead, you try to focus on the warmth of his hand in yours. “And you’re always warm.”
Touya hums, leading you both back to his home that was nearby. His mother promised to make Udon tonight and it was all you could think about. 
“You know, you haven't said much about your new baby brother.” You start, tilting your head to get a better look at him, he always seemed more tense when going towards the home.
His tense features smooth out at the mention of his new sibling, brows softening and a smile sliding onto his face. “Oh, yeah. Well he doesn’t do much yet. He can’t talk or anything. He’s trying, but he’s kind of a potato.”
The comment makes you laugh, and you watch as fresh, new snowflakes make their way down from the sky, landing in Touya’s hair and your jacket. It’s at this moment you decide that winter is your favorite season. 
The way Touya squeezes your hand brings you back to the present, the warmth making your heart dance. “But, I can't wait until he does talk. I bet he’ll be pretty cool.”
“Yeah, I think so, too.” You agree, “But you have to make sure you set a good example for him. Or else he’ll be the cool brother, you know.”
Touya scoffs, brows furrowing in irritation that doesn’t quite meet his eyes. “I know that! I’m always cool…”
You mutter a soft sure as your best friend’s home comes into view. 
Udon was so close, you could almost taste it. 
“Race you there!” Touya shouts, dropping your hand and taking off, effectively leaving you in the dust.
“Hey!” You try to catch up, but the headstart he had over you was too great, and you end up last — much to your dismay. Touya was already inside and kicking his shoes off by the time you made it in. “You cheated!”
The boy only shrugs, removing his coat and putting it away, “If you wanna be a hero you have to always be alert, that’s what dad says anyway.”
You follow suit, kicking off your shoes and jacket, and running to greet his mother. It was perfect timing, you noted, as Rei had only just begun placing piping hot bowls of Udon down at the table for all of you. 
“Hi, Fuyumi!” You greet watching her emerge from further into the home. She returns with a wave, taking her place at the table. 
There was no time to waste as you dig into the soup, enjoying the way it warmed your insides from the cool air outside.
“And where have you two been all day?” Rei questions, tone neutral and patient. It’s at this moment you notice the overheated head of the household was not present for dinner. It's something you cannot say that you mind, given how tense the air is when the man does come around. 
“We were out playing hide and seek.” Touya supplied through a mouthful of noodles.
Rei looks skeptical, resting her chin on her hand as she watched her son. “Just playing hide and seek, Touya? No extra training?” 
The boy stops, watching his mother before taking a sip of his water, “Maybe a little bit of training…”
“Touya.”
“What?” He asks, growing aggravated at the woman's pestering. You could only watch as the interaction went on, trying to enjoy your Udon as best you could. 
“I told you not to push yourself today. It’s already hard enough to get your father to give you an off day, at least enjoy it by not overdoing it.”
“I wasn’t overdoing it! It’s fine, okay?” His frustration is growing and you begin to shift in your seat, unsettled by the conversation. It wasn’t the first time Rei had scolded Touya about quirk training, but it always ended the same — no progress on the topic being made. 
Rei sighs, the stresses of her day to day beginning to catch up with her. “I just don’t want you to overdo it. I want you to enjoy being a child too, Touya. Just have fun sometimes.”
“But I do have fun — all the time!” 
She’s tired, you can tell by the bags lining her eyes and the unkept status of her hair. Your mom looks like this too, on the days her job runs over and she has to come home late. Maybe all moms look this way, you ponder as you down the rest of your soup. 
“Listen, I know you want to get stronger, but you’ve been turning up hurt more often than not. At least hold off until the doctor's appointment.” 
You watch as Touyas brows scrunch and his lips turn down in a frown. You know that look very well. He's upset. “What? That’s dumb! I won’t be the best if I let a few burns stop me.”
“Touya…” Rei looks like Touya, you realize in this moment, a near carbon copy of her son the way her features mirror his own. “It’s just for a little while, okay? Not forever.”
He scoffs, done with the conversation and Rei only looks on. “Whatever.”
That’s the end of the conversation, sending dinner into a deep silence with tension crowding the air. 
By the end of dinner, you are more than ready to head to bed, quick to finish your nightly duties and prepare for bed. 
You try to bite back a yawn as you slide the door to the bedroom open, it is futile and you feel the tears pull at the corners of your eyes — signaling that it was time for bed. 
Touya was already clad in his pajamas and currently rolling out the extra futon for you to sleep on. It was a soft white and blue and you wasted no time getting under the blankets.
“Hey, don’t go to sleep yet.” Your best friend whined, arms crossed and judging stare watching you make yourself comfortable. 
You sit up, meeting his eyes with a raised brow. “‘M not. Just getting comfy.” 
“Yeah, sure.” He stops, dropping his eyes to his lap, lost in thought. “Do you think she was right?”
“Hm? Who?”
Touya sucks his teeth, eye roll not directed at you, but his frustration. “My mom. When she said that I train too much.”
“Oh,” you didn’t think so. You were sure how much Touya trained with his father, but you knew it was never anything extensive when it was only you two together. There was no way that was considered too much. “No, I don't think you do.”
He smiles, and you feel like you’ve made the right call. “Good! I just want to be strong. I don’t see why she doesn’t get that. She says I'll end up hurting myself. But when I get burned it’s only a little bit.”
“Yeah, when I use my quirk too much my head will start to hurt really bad and my nose bleeds a little, but it goes away after a while.” You bring a hand to your nose, thankful there was no metallic smell lingering from the last time you used your quirk. 
“The burns go away too! I knew you would understand.” He smiles, and then focuses on you, tone serious. “Hey, let's make a promise, then.” 
This piques your interest. “What kind of promise?”
“That we’ll both keep trying to get strong. We can look after each other so we won't push too hard. Promise?” He holds out his fist with his pinky extended. His eyes are vivid within the dark room, the cerulean blue filled with a boyish determination that makes your mind rush and your heart flutter. 
It's so quiet, the hushed whispers between you two make this feel more like a secret than a promise, and maybe in some ways it is. A secret that binds you both to each other, one that is in its own a safety net and a comfort when you need it most. 
You reach back, interlocking his pinky with yours. “I promise.”
He brings it forward, pulling you towards him just a little. Touya kisses the exposed part of your pinky, and you bring his closer to do the same.
The deal was sealed. Promise made.
The sound of footsteps pulled you both from your steely gaze and towards the door. Touya's eyes widened, knowing you both were not supposed to be awake at this hour. You lock eyes and both duck down, covering yourselves with the blankets and feigning sleep.
It was just in time as the door to the room slid open, a wandering Rei glancing around the now still room. She stood there for a moment — muttering about how she could have sworn she heard voices — before turning to leave, door sliding shut and footsteps trailing back to her side of the home. 
Both you and Touya tried as best you could to keep your snickers and laughs down, even going as far as slapping a hand over his mouth and yours to silence the noises. Only once there were no more sounds of footsteps did you release your hold on him, bringing an index finger to your mouth to shush him further. 
“Okay,” Touya whispered into the quiet of the room, his voice carrying despite the honest effort to be silent, “we have to go to bed, for real this time.”
“Yeah.” You nod, trying your best to bite back a smile. You were sure the both of you were the only two people awake in the world right now. No one else but you, him in the pale moonlight — with the stars tagging along, sneaking into the space and lighting up the dim room, eavesdropping on your hushed laughs and promises. 
“Goodnight,” he breathes, no more than a whisper.
“Goodnight, Touya.”
—--------------------
You wake with a start, body sitting straight up in bed as your chest heaved. Your eyes darted left and right but all you could see was the familiar posters along the walls of your bedroom. 
Your bedroom?
“Oh, I see you’re awake.” 
Your head snaps to the voice, honey sweet and always familiar. Your mother stood at your door, leaning against the dark wood of the doorframe and giving you a look that made a pit form in your stomach. You clench the cotton of your bed's comforter, the fabric anchoring you to the room.
“You’ve been out for a while.” She continues when she realizes you won’t speak. And what could you say? That you chased your dead best friend in the forest and overused your quirk to catch him? It sounds ridiculous. 
So, you bring the words to your mouth and try to give her a response. Even if it’s a small, insignificant one. 
“Have I?” The words feel dry and heavy on your tongue, like you haven’t spoken in days. Maybe you haven’t. 
Your mother nods, taking your response as consent to come further into your room. Her steps are soft, as if any loud noise would scare you off or make you shut down. It’s hard to look away from her worried gaze, so you don’t. 
You watch as she makes her way over, sitting down on your bed and the look she gives you makes your chest ache.
The somber aura in her eyes brings you no comfort.
“What were you doing out there?” She skips to the point, not wasting another minute. It’s like the question has been running through her head for a while now. 
Your eyes fall to your fists clutching the bedsheets. 
What could you say?
“I…” You swallow, the worst she could do was not believe you. “I saw something in the forest.”
Your mother shifts on the bed, turning to look at you head on. “What did you see?”
There was no way she wouldn’t think you were crazy, but you had to try. 
“Touya. I swear I saw him.” Your eyes meet hers and you wished they hadn’t. The look of sorrow is now replaced with something much worse. Pity. 
“Sweetie…” 
You inhale, tears blurring your vision and you knew this would happen. “Don’t! It was him — I know it was.” 
“I'm not saying it wasn’t.” She defends, bringing a hand up in surrender. “I’m just worried about you. You know what the doctors told you about your quirk.”
The quirk. You didn’t even think about that. 
Too caught up in the possibility of seeing Touya again. 
Your mother sighs, “You’ve been out for three days. Three. You can’t blame me for being worried about you — or upset.”
And you don’t. 
Three days is a long time. You reach a hand up, taking note of the bandages wrapped around your head. You’re not even sure how you ended up back in your room. 
“Just… Remember what the doctors said.” And you do remember! But it was an emergency. One that you couldn’t risk letting pass you by. She speaks again, her voice stern. “I don’t want to lose you.”
You sit there in silence, taking her words in. The heavy tears on your lower lids fall, dampening the blanket in droplets. 
“It’s around that time of year again, I know. I’m so sorry you’re going through this. As a mother I wish I could protect you from this kind of hurt.” She stops, voice wavering as her own eyes grew glossy. “But it’s also why I can’t risk losing you either.”
You want to say something, anything to make her stop. It’s not the same. 
“I don’t doubt that you saw something, but I want you to understand that it was late at night, and you’re still grieving.” 
Your jaw is starting to ache from how hard you’re clenching your teeth — fury below the surface of your frustration. 
Of course she doesn’t believe you. 
Why would you be foolish enough to think she would? 
She sighs, the lecture coming to an end. “Don’t destroy yourself for this, okay?” Your mother reaches out and covers your exposed hand with her own. It takes everything in you not to snatch it away. 
“Promise me, please.”
You meet her eyes, the sorrow swimming in them makes you feel like you’re drowning, so you do the only thing you can think of — you nod, and agree. 
“I promise.” 
And you do. It won’t destroy you to find out the truth. You’ll be okay and intact. No promises will be broken, not again. 
You go out to the forest that night. Even though your head is still wrapped in bandages and you get dizzy if you turn your head a little too fast — you still go. You have to.
It’s eating you up and you have to be sure you weren't hallucinating. 
Your mother has been keeping a close eye on you. She’s so worried, not only about your physical health but your mental health as well. And you don’t blame her. To have her only daughter fall out in the forest and wake up claiming to see her dead best friend? It’s worrisome, but you know better.
You wave the flashlight in your hand, backtracking your steps in the forest. 
It's fruitless, due to the fresh fallen snow and lack of footprints. But that doesn’t deter you. You know he was here, he had to be.
After what felt like an hour of a search, you decide to turn back, knowing there would be no point as the snowfall increased. It would eventually make things harder to see and you would rather not get stuck in a snowstorm. 
Fuyumi won’t say it out loud but she is worried about you. 
She’s worried you have finally gone off the deep end and you are too far gone to be brought back to shore. 
“Fuyumi, I know what I saw. It was him — I swear!” You pleaded, knowing how you must sound.
She knows how much you love Touya, and how devastated you were, but what she doesn’t understand is what you mean when you say you saw him. 
Her eyes were filled with sadness and …pity. The same pity that’s been haunting you for days now. “I believe you saw something. I don’t want to shut you down, it’s just… I know how your quirk is. I know what happens if you overuse it. It could have been in your mind right before you went out.” 
You scoff in shock, eyes wide and disbelieving of what you’re hearing. Of all people you thought Fuyumi would understand, or at least hear you out. 
She doesn't understand. She wouldn’t understand. 
You shake your head, eyes downcast as you fight the familiar burn of tears in your eyes, muttering under your breath, “I know what I saw.” 
Those were his eyes. It was his nose and his hair. It was Touya. 
This doesn’t stop her from trying to comfort you, bringing that familiar hand to your shoulder and giving it a squeeze. What would usually feel like a comfort is now a vice, suffocating you as you drown is the reality around you.
No one will believe a word you say.
“Maybe,” she starts, words careful and gentle, knowing you were as fragile as glass, ready to shatter at any sudden movement. “Maybe Touya is watching over you in some way. Like a guardian angel.”
The warm tears fall now, unable to be held back by your crumbling will. 
“I know how hard it is, really, I do. But I want you to know that you’re not alone, okay?” You can feel Fuyumi’s gaze on you, silently pleading for you to look up, look at her, but you won't. You can’t. You know what you saw and it doesn’t matter if anyone believes you. 
You would never stop looking for Touya. 
Fuyumi lets you go and it feels like you can breathe again. She has become such a good friend over the years, second best to Touya, but it’s not the same. 
You go to stand, having had enough of crying for one week and she stops you. 
“Wait, I don’t want you to go! At least stay for dinner with us. Does your mom work late tonight?”
You nod, she usually does on Fridays. 
“Then it’s settled. Stay over, let's watch movies or something.” She falters, eyes to the floor as she bites her bottom lip, “I don’t want to be alone, either.”
Something in your heart tugs and you agree, moving to join her once more in the living room. 
Fuyumi may not understand, but she was still your close friend. “Okay, but I get to choose the movie, though.”
And she smiles.
For now, you would be okay. 
—----------------------
“It’s so stupid!” 
There’s a flash of fire and a tree goes up in flames. Touya is upset. 
“It’s just not fair.”
“I know…” You drag, hating when he got this way. “But it’s what they told me.” 
“That means we can’t be heroes together anymore!”
The wave of sadness you feel makes your head hurt and eyes water. “I know… I don’t know what to do.”
“Well, they told me I had to stop training, too. Dad said he wouldn’t do it anymore because I hurt myself. You know what I say to that? Who cares! We can be strong if we want to. It's not fair.”
You know it’s not fair.
You are seven years old when the doctors tell you that you cannot continue to use your quirk. 
Telekinesis is not only rare, but it is dangerous. Not just to you, but to others around you. The doctors were very clear about what would happen if you lost control or if you overexerted yourself. 
The consequences could be devastating. 
But quirks are such an important part of one’s life and for them to tell you to just not use them? It’s unheard of. 
It also doesn’t help that Touya has another sibling on the way. One that his father is eerily excited about. 
“Do you remember our promise?” He asks, pulling you from your thoughts. 
You nod, knowing the promise is something you could never forget. 
“Well, I think it's more important than ever now. If they dont want us to do it, then we just shouldn’t tell them.” There is a determined purpose in his voice as he turns to face you, committed eyes meeting yours.
“I don’t know, Touya. That sounds like lying.”
“It’s not if you don’t say anything.” He insists, tone even. 
Your gaze falls to the ground, watching as the wind blows the leaves along the snow. It’s like their own secret dance. Your promise is beginning to feel more like a secret dance as well.
“Look,” Touya starts, walking towards you and capturing your attention once more, “I swear, if anything happens, I’ll just say I did it.” 
You shake your head, brows furrowed in confusion and fists clenched, “No! Then you would get in trouble, and what if we can’t hang out anymore? We can be in this together, Touya.” 
He smiles, soft and sweet. Your dedication relaxes him more than he thought it would. 
His warm hands are on your face again, warming your cheeks and the butterflies that have been living in your stomach go wild again. You absently wonder if you should tell your mother about it. 
“Your nose is all red again, Rudolph.” He says before bringing you closer and brushing his nose against yours.
You were sure if your face got any warmer you would probably explode. 
Touya carries on, walking away from you and further into the forest. You trail behind, even though you knew this part of it well, you still didn’t want to run the risk of getting lost. 
“Where are we going?” Your voice carries in this part of the woods, and it sounds more like a shout. 
“I found this cool spot the other day! Let me show you.”
Confident as always, Touya trails through and you speed up to chase him. 
Now you're sure your face is red, but he doesn't mention it again. 
“It’s down here.” Touya points and there’s a drop to get to the area. 
It only takes a jump and he lands on his feet — he makes it look so easy, but you know he’s probably gotten a lot of practice and put himself in positions more dangerous than this. 
There’s that doubt in the forefront of your mind again, the fear that makes you hesitate. “I don’t like heights, Touya.” 
“It’s okay! C’mon, I’ll catch you. It’s just a little further.” He’s reassuring as he holds out his arms. 
Always fearless Touya. 
You trust him, and it’s all you can think as you close your eyes and give yourself a little running start and then jump. 
There’s a ringing in your ears again and you don’t feel his arms right away, instead you feel light. As light as a feather as you drift down to the ground. 
The lack of impact makes the fear ebb away as you open your eyes. There’s Touya, arms out and waiting as he watches you with widened eyes filled with wonder. 
You’ve somehow activated your quirk and slowed your own fall. You absently think that it almost feels kind of fun, the way you softly land in Touya’s waiting arms. 
“Whoa,” he starts, eyes never leaving yours. “You looked like an angel or something.”
You don’t know why, but the comparison makes your cheeks flush as you fight for a way to respond. 
Nothing comes to mind and you only bite down a smile. You’ve never tried something like that before with your quirk and the excitement makes your fear fade away. 
“I didn’t know you could do that.”
“Me either,” you shrug. It’s new to you too, and you weren’t against trying it again. 
“Well, c'mon, let’s go before it gets dark.” And he’s taking off, pulling you along with him by the hand. The wind is chilly but it doesn’t completely cool you. Touya keeps you warm, from the outside by his hand and from the inside with his words. Maybe there was more to his fire quirk than you thought. 
“Don’t run so fast, Touya!”
He laughs, but slows down for you, looking back and flashing a smile, “Whatever you say, angel.” 
—-------------
It’s the end of March and spring is on the way. 
The snow melting, the rain clouds are rolling their way in, readying to greet April and bring life to the incoming May flowers, and your mother—
“We need them by tonight!” She yells through the phone and it’s enough to make you hold the device far away from your ear. 
“I heard you the first time, mom.” You sigh, looking around again for the small shop and making your way towards it. “I’ll have all the stuff by then. The party will be fine, I promise.” 
Tonight is your father’s big homecoming day from overseas. He’s been working away from home for eight months now and your mother has decided to throw him a welcome home party at the last minute. He will be here by tonight and so will the guests — if you finish in time everything will go according to plan. 
“I just want everything to be perfect.” Her voice presses and you hum in response. You know how she wants things to be, but your father isn’t picky. He’s the most easy going man you know and if there’s a hiccup here and there, well, you’re sure he won't mind. 
“Okay, mom.” You start, grabbing your items and making your way to the checkout line. “I’m about to check out now, so I’ll let you know when I'm on the way home.”
She sighs on the other end, but lets you go, not before fully explaining why she needs the banners and streamers in a certain color and you cut her off, hanging up and checking out. 
It's been a few months since the incident in the forest and you’ve given up trying to make anyone see your point of view. They all thought you were hallucinating, but you knew better. You saw Touya. There was nothing they could say or do to make you think otherwise. 
You heave a sigh and continue your walk through the town thinking of the countless decorations you will undoubtedly have to help your mother hang for the night. It gives you something to do, but god, last minute events were not your favorite. 
There aren’t as many people out and about this time of day and you're thankful. It’s almost peaceful, the way you can weave through the sparse crowd and get lost in your own thoughts. 
Until you see it.
It makes you stop in your tracks, heart beating so loud in your chest you could feel it pulsing in your ears. 
White hair and blue eyes.
You take a few hurried steps to the alley you know you saw the figure go into. 
He was wearing an oversized black hoodie with the hood pulled up, but you knew the moment he turned and his eyes met yours. Touya. 
Without a second thought you dropped the bags you were holding and ran after him. He was halfway through the window of an abandoned building when you made down the alley, but was swift as he jumped through it. There was no doubt Touya was fast, but you wouldn’t let him get away. Not this time. 
You follow him, jumping through the same window and chasing as he maneuvers through the dusty dilapidated building. It’s hard to catch your breath and you are sure you’re running on pure adrenaline now, but none of that matters. 
All that matters now is that you aren’t crazy. It was broad daylight when you locked eyes. You know Touya is alive.
“Touya, wait!” You barely register the tears running down your face as you run, but you dont care to wipe them away. Why would he run from you? Why would he hide from you? There are so many questions that you need answered. “Stop!” 
He takes a left turn and you follow, before seeing him dip right and it’s getting harder and harder to keep up. After the last incident you refuse to use your quirk. Not unless you wanted to ruin your chances and pass out again. 
At one point you lose him completely, but there is no outlet in the dusty room you’ve cornered him in. He has to be hiding somewhere. 
“Touya, please! If that’s you,” you yell out, voice hoarse from emotion, “please, come back. Talk to me.” You’re looking around the dark room, walking further in and searching for something, anything that shows his presence. 
You make the mistake of having your back to the door, the only exit in the room and Touya darts out, passing you and making it back into the main part of the building.��
You curse before hurrying behind him, but it was too late. All you could see was him hopping the window and landing on his feet below. It was too high for you to follow so you only grip the window pane, tears of frustration running down your cheeks as you watched him run.
“What about our promise?” You yell, wondering if your words could reach him.
There’s a sick feeling forming in your gut and you try to pull yourself together — wiping your eyes with the sleeve of your shirt and the sobs shook your body. You had a party to prepare for and you couldn’t keep playing this game of back and forth.
Your mother gives you an earful when you arrive home much later than you were supposed to, but she was so focused on getting your father’s welcome home party together that she let you off the hook easily.
As long as you helped her hang the decorations. 
There is a tense air around the both of you and you know your mother is hesitating asking. You aren't sure if it’s to save you the trouble of a pointless conversation or if she is just tired of hearing about it. 
You decide not to tell her of your latest meeting. Brushing off any odd stares and worried glances with excuses of being tired. It was not wise to tell anyone what you saw. They would only think of you as the girl who cried wolf.
When your father made it home you knew he could tell something was off with you by just one look alone. 
He participated in the socializing and games until the crowd died down and people began to leave. You had called it a night long ago and made your way to your room, headphones on and catching up on homework. 
There was a knock loud enough to hear through the headphones, making you remove one and causing you to turn and see your father standing at the door. 
“Yes?” You ask, unsure what he could want at this hour.
He gives you a small smile, one as gentle and kind as you've always known him to be, and asks to come in — taking a seat on your bed while you close the book at your desk.
“I wanted to talk.” He started, watching as you removed the headphones from your head completely and gave him your undivided attention, sure that this would be about what’s been going on lately. 
“Have you started looking for colleges?”
The question surprises you, and you shake your head. You should start looking soon, since you turn seventeen soon and only have one year left, but it hasn’t been your main priority. “No, I haven’t.”
He only smiles, eyes crinkling shut as he waves off your worried expression, “It’s fine! I actually had an alternative for you. It’s something I've been looking into during the business trip.”
Your interest is officially piqued as you urge him to continue. 
“Well, I’m sure you know this, but you have a pretty rare quirk.” He starts, tone leveled, “I’ve been working on research studies and there’s somewhere I found that would love to have you intern and learn more about it.”
You tilt your head. “You want me to be a guinea pig?”
“No!” Your father laughs, already knowing how it would sound. “No, not that at all. I want to understand your quirk better, and for you to understand it better. I think it would be good for you. A chance to grow.”
To grow. You narrow your eyes at the words, starting to understand what he was getting at. “So you’ve heard.”
“I did. And before you get upset — I believe you. I will always believe you, and that's why I want you to do this." His words make your eyes widen and he continues. “It’s in a small town a little further away, but the internship comes with your own apartment and a stipend for food. Your mother and I will still support you, of course...”
You hold a hand up to stop him, “wait, how far away is the town?”
Your father rubs the back of his neck, an anxious habit he’s had as long as you could remember. “About four hours from here.”
“Four hours?” Your voice is louder than you meant for it to be but you can't help it, standing to your feet in disbelief. 
“It’s such a good opportunity for you, honey. This town… has too many memories. It’ll help you grow. At least tell me you’ll consider it?”
It feels like hours before you speak again, the stunned feeling hijacking your body. But you do respond, you owe him that much. 
“Alright, I’ll think about it.” You give, taking your seat at your desk again. It feels like your mind is swimming, but you had to at least mull it over. 
“Thank you,” your father stands and hugs you, pressing a kiss to the top of your head before exiting your room. “I promise it won't be so bad. Goodnight, honey, I love you.”
You only nod in response. Maybe getting away would be good for you. 
The first day you find a gift it is raining outside.
You stumble up to your front doorstep, closing your umbrella and shaking off the excess water.  
“What the…” You reach down to pick up the little box, and turn it over to examine it. Maybe your mother got something delivered. 
The thought follows you into the home as you pull off your raincoat and rainboots, making your way to the kitchen where your mother had started on dinner.
“Oh, welcome home.” She greets, stirring the pot of soup and eyeing the box in your hand. “What do you have there?”
Your brows furrow as you take a seat at the table. “I thought you would know. It’s not for you?”
“Nope.” 
The response only makes your brows furrow more as you search for maybe a name or any indication that it was delivered to the wrong place. 
“You should open it.” Your mother pipes up and you shrug, ripping the paper and opening the box. 
You drop the box the moment you see the item. 
There was no way.
“What? What's the matter?” Your mother questions, her eyes filled with worry as she reaches for the box.
You snatch it away from her and dart off to your room, supplying her with an excuse about how you don’t feel well before locking yourself in your bedroom. 
The box held a golden locket inside of it. It was in the shape of a heart and you were terrified to open it and see what lay inside of it. You decide that the suspense would be too much and open it anyway — the photo makes your breath hitch.
It was you and Touya. 
You, with your bright eyes and happy smile and Touya, half white and half red hair looking at you as you hug him, cheeks pressed together. 
There was no denying it now. Touya was alive and he was hiding from you. 
Maybe he’s watching over you — like a guardian angel. Fuyumi’s voice rang in your head as you fought the tears blurring your vision. 
Why would he send you this and not talk to you?
All of it made your head spin as you thought of the countless reasons and possibilities. You didn't bother to wipe the tears from your eyes as they rolled down your cheeks. Only opting to lay down in your bed, holding the locket close to your chest as you stared at the ceiling above. 
It made no sense. Touya could trust you, so why would he hide from you?
Unless he didn’t want to be found.
The next gifts come in different forms and sizes, ranging from your favorite snack to cute cards. 
Always something small but never with a note or handwriting. It was almost like he truly didn’t want to be found. 
And maybe he didn’t. 
It’s scary at first, receiving random gifts and items from someone who might as well be a ghost, but as the months went on you grew used to it and even began to expect it at some point. 
Now you knew you could rest easy knowing that Touya was alive and maybe, just maybe he was waiting on the right moment to come out. You would trust him.
It also doesn’t take long for you to come to a decision with your fathers offer. 
It’s an amazing opportunity and you should take advantage of that while you can. You tell him as much and you could feel his excitement through the phone call. He was away on business again, but he would handle most of the heavy lifting, all you had to do was apply and wait on your offer once you graduate. 
There was just one thing you had to do before you left. 
—--------------------
You are eighteen years old when you leave Musutafu.
By this time you couldn’t take it anymore. Either Touya had gotten better at hiding or he knew you would be leaving soon, but there was nothing else from him — and there hadn’t been for months. At this point it felt like glimpses of the past haunting you. Every part of the city reminded you of him and of your childhood together. 
Fuyumi was upset to see you go, but she understood. 
You still believed, deep down, she thought you were losing your mind. 
You needed this though – needed a getaway. The ghost of Touya was holding you down, holding you back. 
Even though the gifts stopped coming months ago. 
She is kind as she hugs you and waves you off, knowing that one main reason for your company in her home was to visit Touya’s shrine. She does not stop you, does not ask questions — not after the time she mentioned how you didn’t bring him up as often. 
There was no need to. You only told her that you’ve moved past that and you knew Touya was watching over you, a small smile on your face as you touched the locket dangling from your neck. Fuyumi didn’t bring the topic up again.
Today is the day you leave. You had waited and waited for any sign of Touya again, but there was nothing. So you took matters into your own hands, making a little bag of gifts and a card that held the new updates to your life and address.
It was a long shot, but it was a chance you had to take.
Once you finished, it didn't take long to make your way back home, gathering your things as your parents insisted on driving you to the train stop. With your mother buzzing around you like a bee, making sure everything was perfect before you went off on your own. 
The idea of new beginnings had begun to feel a little more welcomed.
Your new apartment is small. 
It is small and cozy and just enough for you. It’s a comfortable one bedroom place and you can only imagine all the ways you will decorate the space. 
The town is also cozy and quaint – one that is reminiscent of old fairy tales, but a lot less magical. You can't help but sigh at the mundane routine you’ve fallen into since you’ve arrived. A nice walk from your apartment to the research lab, and from the research lab to your home. Since it’s summer there aren't many researchers on campus, so you have more than enough time to explore the parks and stores. 
One week turns into two and then two weeks turn into a month. You’ve gotten used to the small town and the people that live there. It's become relaxing and the new routine has eased your nerves. Maybe your father was right about needing a change.
But no matter what you do, you cannot stop thinking about Touya. 
The thought of leaving him is heavy, but when you touch your locket, you know it is for the best.
Everything changes on a Thursday night. 
It’s a normal night, one where there is no need to go to the lab, so you hang around in the apartment — setting up cozy lights and posters from home. It’s beginning to come together more and more everyday, and you decided to end it all with a simple and easy meal. One that you could mindlessly eat while watching a movie. 
It's a foolproof plan, really. 
You’re stirring the pot of noodles, humming a tune when you hear the knocks at your door. It is dark outside, and you haven’t made enough friends to warrant visitors, so the idea of a guest at this hour sends alarms ringing in your mind.
You grip the wooden spoon tight as you take cautious steps to your door, knowing that if it came down to it you would be more than ready to whack whoever trespassed. 
“Who is it?” You call out, loud enough for the intruder to hear, but get no response. 
At this point you are sure it was just your imagination and you turn, ready to get back to your noodles, when the knocks sound throughout the apartment again.
Frustrating is the only thought on your mind as you stomp towards your front door, ready to give whoever was on the other side of it a piece of your mind for interrupting your peaceful night with this bullshit—
The door swings open and your words die on your tongue.
Cerulean blue looks down at you and you were right — he has gotten taller.
“Hey, angel.”
You couldn’t believe your eyes. You wouldn’t believe your eyes because if you did you would see Touya, your childhood best friend Touya on your doorstep. Real and in the flesh, hair white as snow and eyes worn with fatigue. 
“Can I come in?” He asks and you are shellshocked, only stepping to the side as your eyes follow his every move. 
This was a moment you thought of for years after your first encounter in the forest, and for him to be here, with you. It didn’t feel real.
“Touya,” you gasp, voice low as if being any louder would wake you from this dream you must be having.
“I know.” His eyes are downcast with a sorrow you’ve never seen in him before, “I.. have a lot I want to tell you.”
It’s at that moment that the timer for your ramen goes off, startling you both and sending you rushing to the kitchen. You offer him a seat and insist that you’ve made enough for the both of you. 
There was so much you needed to discuss, so much to catch up on.  You didn’t know where to start. 
The little table you use to eat on is small, but perfect for the two of you, you realize as you set both bowls down and hand him a set of metal chopsticks. 
Your heart was in overdrive as you ran through thousands of things to ask, millions of unspoken words to say. You’ve imagined this moment in your head for years. Time and time again you’ve thought of what you would say to him, what you would do if you ever saw him again. 
Now the opportunity has presented itself and all you can manage is a wide eyed look as you both quietly eat your ramen. 
Surreal. 
This moment feels surreal and you’re sure that if you make any sudden movements or ask any loud questions, that it would be gone. Touya would be gone, disappearing in an instant and leaving you alone in your apartment. 
He speaks first, saving you the trouble of searching for words. “The food was good.” 
His voice sounds scratchy, like it hasn’t been used in years and you can't help but wonder why. 
“Thank you.” It’s all you can manage to get out, stunned to your core and desperately searching for words. 
You go to stand, taking the empty bowls with you to the kitchen and Touya follows suit, trailing behind in the small space of the apartment and you are hyper aware of his presence. 
You can feel the warmth of his body even when he is steps away from you. It radiates and blankets you in feelings you haven’t felt in years. 
As you place the bowls in the sink you can’t help but wonder where should you go from here. It’s a thought that plagues you as you grip the edge of the sink, fists tight and head hung low while you brace yourself to turn around, to face the reality of the truth standing right behind you—
You do it. You turn and it’s not a dream. It’s not your imagination, you conclude as you look into Touya's eyes, blue and familiar. Eyes you would know anywhere. 
His hair is snow white, the last color you saw it as before he—
“You kept it.” His eyes drop to the golden locket around your neck, a small smile pulling at his features. 
“Of course I did.” You’re firm, bringing two fingers up to brush against it, the cool feeling bringing you comfort over the last few years. 
His gaze seems far away as he zeros in on your locket, “I was worried you wouldn’t, after the last time we—“
“Don’t.” You cut him off, words sharp. “Don’t talk about it. Not tonight.”
You don’t know what you’re doing or where your mind is going as you take a step forward. He’s so different, yet so familiar and you can’t help but reach your hand up to brush over the newly faded scars along his cheek. 
Touya leans into the touch, closing his eyes and allowing you to feel. 
When he opens them again you get that feeling in your chest that always pulls at you and for the first time, you can finally place a word to the feeling. 
“I’m sorry,” you stammer, vision blurring with tears as you fight for your words, “I’m sorry I didn’t—“
Touya stops you, crashing his lips into yours and effectively silencing your racing thoughts. It’s warm and he’s so close, you wish you could pull him closer but you settle for this, allowing the tears to freely roll down your cheeks. 
When he pulls away there is only the smallest distance between you two. Noses so close they are almost touching. 
“I don’t care about any of that,” his eyes are so focused on yours, it feels like he’s put you in a trance. “I’m the one who should be apologizing, anyway.”
Before you could even shake your head, tell him no it’s the other way around, he’s pulling you back into a kiss, one so soft and so gentle you feel as though his lips were made for yours. 
It presses on, your hands finding his hair, soft and fluffy as you’ve always known it, while his hands hold your waist, pulling you in and keeping you close. 
This is not your first kiss, and it’s not Touya's either. You both decided at around eleven years old that you would try to emulate your parents and see what the fuss was about. Surely enough, you didn’t think you did it right because there was nothing. No sparks, no fireworks — just lips pressed together. 
You were both too young at the time, you now realize as you wrap your arms around Touya's neck, tilting your head and deepening the kiss. Way too young to realize that love is not fairytales and fireworks. 
Love is slow, it is steady and it is this — right here, right now, kissing your best friend in your tiny apartment kitchen. 
It’s perfect, you think as you both make your way to the bedroom, Touya trailing behind you for once as you lead him through the space. Hushed laughs and soft smiles dance together as you fall onto the bed. 
He is above you, and you wonder how you could have ever lived without his presence. The thought makes you sick. 
“I love you.” And it’s not your lips that moved, not your voice. It’s Touya, as he looks down at you, cheeks flushed and breathing heavy. “I never stopped loving you.”
“Touya…” Your heart swells and it’s then you feel it. The droplets of tears, falling from his eyes and onto your cheeks. They were as warm as he had always been and you waste no time pulling him down into another kiss — pulling away only enough to press your foreheads together. “I’ve always loved you.”
And you have. Even in death you loved him, nothing could take that love away from you. 
The next kiss is hungry, teeth and tongues clashing in a rush as you both fought to remove your clothes. You have regretted all the things that went unsaid, the actions that went undone and you were both not going to waste any of this new time you had been given. 
You feel one of Touya's fingers prod your entrance and the hesitation reminds you that you’re both inexperienced. New to the world of sex, but forever patient. You could guide each other, you decide as you gasp when he slowly slips a finger inside, slick coating the digit and making the press easier. 
Touya watches you with heavy lidded eyes as he pumps the digit, causing you to whine at the pressure. He pulls out soon after, searching for your sensitive bundle of nerves and giving a sly smirk when you moan at the touch. He’s found it and wastes no time rubbing circles, slow at first to get a feel of what makes you tick, but gaining more confidence as he goes on. 
There was a pressure beginning to build in your lower abdomen and it made you pull him close, thighs tensing as you squeeze your eyes shut. 
“Close?” His voice is a whisper beside your ear.
You only nod, unable to give him a verbal answer as your pleasure builds. 
You can feel his smile as he turns his head, cheeks brushing against yours. “Let go for me, I’ve got you.” 
And you do. 
You let go of the tension and allow your body to fall into the pleasure of your climax— gasping as it washed over you in waves, sending shocks of pleasure radiating through your body. 
“Fuck,” Touya moans above you as he works you through it, only moving to line up with your entrance once you’ve come down from your high. 
The press of it makes your breath hitch, but when you look up into Touya’s eyes you feel safe. 
“Tell me if you want to stop, okay?” And you nod, trusting him to be soft and slow. 
He’s nervous, too, and you can tell by the way his brows furrowed in focus. He doesn’t want to mess up your first time, but nothing could ruin this moment. Not even the twinge of pain you feel as the head of Touya’s cock pushes past your entrance, the tight muscles constricting against the intrusion. 
You reach out, hands finding balance against his back as he pressed on, muttering words of comfort to you and ebbing away the pain. 
It doesn’t take long before the pain has been washed away and replaced with the blossoming buzz of pleasure, Touya's hips having a steady pace as he begins to gain more momentum. 
The pleasure is quickly building again and you tell him as much, crying out when he snaps his hips at a particular angle and sends a flash of bliss up your spine. 
“Fuck, Touya, there! Right there,” you cry and he catches on instantly. He’s always been a fast learner. 
The angle he has is perfect as he brushes against the soft spot inside you over and over again, making your thighs shake and toes curl in pleasure as you meet your end once again. The feeling settles deep in your bones as the warmth of it spreads throughout your body like a warm blanket. 
Touya isn’t far behind, if his erratic pace was anything to go by. You could only watch in awe as he chased his high, with his brows furrowed and eyes tightly shut. You fall more in love as you feel his hips stutter and then stall, his white hot seed filling you from the inside and making you shudder. 
It was a new feeling that you believed you could get addicted to if you weren’t careful. 
But none of that mattered right now, because Touya was leaning down, pressing a kiss to your lips and you knew that right here, right now was the most important.
Everything else would have to wait until tomorrow.
21 notes · View notes
splattered-ink · 2 days
Text
The Library
Tonight, you told me
my mind is like a library
filled with books
each written by me
every book,
a so called "bestseller"
Each sitting atop a shelf
of beautifully polished oak
a quiet library,
with comfortable seats
It feels welcoming.
At first glance,
It looks perfect.
serene, peaceful
a perfect place to get lost
but wander too far,
and you'll find one more room
this time, the books aren't so pretty.
the shelves aren't so beautiful
The chairs aren't so comfortable.
the room is eerily cold,
the books are scribbled out
Messily handwritten, rushed.
not pretty and printed
they have cracked spines, torn pages
They are filled with disturbing stories
Nothing like what you'd see outside.
no one is allowed in that room.
no one makes it that far.
There are too many books outside.
no one is that curious.
that room is filled with despair
littered with unfinished coffee
and unfulfilled dreams.
poetry that never made it out,
memories that never will.
No one is allowed in that room
no one but you.
you waltzed right on into it
and for some reason, I let you.
You held my damaged books
flipped through them with care
As though every page
was worth its weight in gold.
I stood by,
ready to snatch them back
but I never needed to.
You sat in the rickety chair
behind the cluttered desk
and you read.
You read just the same as you did
in the pretty part of the library.
I could only watch from the corner
watch, as you read the things
no one had ever seen.
You didn't run right out of the room
you stayed, read more
and when you finished
you left, and took your place again outside
You wouldn't mind going back
to that cold room
but you enjoy the rest of the library just as well
This part of my library is open for you,
and you alone.
Read whatever you wish
hold each book gently
and you can read
for as long as you want.
21 notes · View notes
danveration · 3 months
Text
Sleep well, amour.
Parings: Alastor x reader
Summary: You’ve been very intrested in Alastor ever since you met him. He invites you to see his recording studio, which you accept. Then you ask if you can stay and listen to him host! While listening, you fall asleep. How does he react?
Word count: 2844
Warnings: Ummm not really much? Alastor being Alastor! One mention of not being able to sleep sometimes, mention of seeing people in hell doing dr*gs, k*lling eachother, and fighting, mention of reader having bad social skills (?)
part two
A/N: UM!! this is my first time writing for alastor, so apologies if it isn’t the best. Please give me any feedback you want, I’d love to hear it! Also sorry for any spelling mistakes. I hope you enjoy :’)
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Alastor the radio demon. You know of the things he’s done, you know that people are quite literally terrified of him. But for some reason... you feel a certain way towards him that you can’t describe, but it’s surely not fear.
You’ve had a some-what odd admiration of him since you landed in hell, only a few months ago. You got spotted by Charlie when you first got to hell. She noticed you looking around nervously and lost, and put two and two together that you must be new. She very kindly introduced herself which was refreshing because.. well.. it’s hell. Everywhere you looked people were fighting, doing drugs, and even killing each other. You were glad there were kind people even down here.
“Hi, you! Uh, you lost?” Charlie smiled you and waved.
“Um yeah! I’m guessing this is hell, huh?” You awkwardly chuckle. Social skills weren’t ever your thing, it seems they haven’t got better after you died, either.
“Yep! This is hell! You must be new? I’m Charlie! Charlie Morningstar. It’s so nice to meet you.” She smiled and stuck out her hand for you to shake.
“Nice to meet you, Charlie! My names Y/n.” You politely smiled back and shook her hand.
After that meeting, Charlie showed you to the hotel in which you eagerly accepted to stay at, her being the only sane thing you’ve seen down here. It was a pretty nice place, no 5 star hotel like back on earth, but it was something you’re very grateful for. Who knows what would’ve happened to you if you haven’t met her.
While she was showing you around, someone caught your eye. He was a tall man, very polite and respectful looking. He was dressed head to toe in old fashioned attire, with a cane to suit his charming look. He was smiling in a way that made you look at him like he was something you wanted to inspect under a magnifying glass.
He glanced at you and smiled larger, stepping over to you and Charlie.
“My, my! What do we have here? Charlie! You didn’t tell me that we’ve got more guests? It’s a pleasure to meet you, my dear! The names Alastor!” He spoke politely.
His voice was sort of.. Radio-like? You found it soothing.
“Haha yeah! I found them wandering around on the street this morning! They’re a newcomer, their name is Y/n.” She spoke back, excited to introduce you.
“Y/n! Well, my, my. That’s quite a lovely name!” He said. “Say.. do you listen to radio? I host a brilliant radio broadcast that’ll give you some real insight on this place!” He said enthusiastically.
“Oh.. haha thank you” You smile. “I do actually! I love radio shows.” You immediately feel drawn towads him. You cant tell if it’s just the new scenery or what.. but you want to just sit and chat with him for hours.
Alastor perks up at that. “Oh you do, do you?” He smiled more.
“Yeah! Back when I was.. uhm.. alive, I actually had a whole playlist of them! What do you do your show about?” You ask.
Alastor is delighted to have you take interest in his show. “Well, dear, I do all sorts of things on there! Yes, yes, you think of it and I’ve most probably done it! Most commonly known is the souls I entrap and prison, as I broadcast their screams of horror all over this horrible place and people get to hear the noises of their never-ending torture and demise. But! I also just made a wonderful segment on my mother’s Jambalaya recipe!” He stated.
While part of those sentences gave you chills, you still seemed to take interest in him.
“Well,” you chuckle. “I will certainly check it out!” You smile.
“Ah! Wonderful news, my dear.” He said while he twirled his cane.
Charlie was watching you interact with him and noticed how you looked at him, as if admiring. She smile and said, “well! We better finish the tour.”
She motions for you to follow her and you do, waving Alastor goodbye.
He waves back and yells, “goodbye, sweetheart! Lovely to have met you.”
After that, you wanted absolutely everything to do with him. You’ve also got to know the other people staying at the hotel. Angel, Vaggie, Husk, Niffty, and Sir Pentious. They were overall kind people. Husk found your interest in Alastor to be no good.
“Yeah, no. That, whatever thing you have created in your mind about him, isn’t true. He’s vile, Y/n. Trust me on that.” He grunts.
Angel thought you had some kind of kink towards “scary, creepy men.” Which wasn’t true because you didn’t even find him scary. You found him charming.
“Ah.. Alastor? Fucking sexy weirdo if I do say so myself. He’s got some reaaal problems but hey, if you’re into that-“ You cut him off by saying it wasn’t like that & that you don’t think anything sexual towards him.
One day, you were talking to Sir Pentious about his “crush” on Cherry Bomb. He completely denied it but you could tell from his blush and his nervous demeanour that he was very interested in her.
You were caught off guard when you heard that radio voice coming up from behind you.
“Y/n, my dear! I have a question for you.” Alastor came and stood beside you, looking down from where you’re sitting.
“Al! Hey, what’s up?” You ask, containing your excitement.
Sir Pentious excused himself quickly, seeing one of his “egg boys” were being played with by Niffty. She isn’t one to be gentle.
“So, I know how you’ve been listening to my radio show as of late, and I was wondering if you’d like to see where the magic happens!” He states.
“R-really? I’d be honoured!” You say, smiling.
“Ah! Lovely. Come now, this way.”
You get up and he locks arms with you and chats about his new microphone that he got.
Once you guys arrive, you’re shocked. It looks very professional and comfortable. It suits him heavily. There’s a big open window, a desk, some chairs and sofas, a bunch of technical stuff on the desk along with his new mic that you recognize from his descriptions, and a deer coat hanger?
“Wow, Alastor. This place is so actually so sick. I love it. And the new microphone suits you!” You say. “Thank you for showing me, really.”
Typically, Alastor would never show someone something personal of his, including his studio, but you are an exception. He isn’t sure what it is about you but he doesn’t seem to hate you as much as he does with anyone else. At first he was weirded out, but now he just embraces it. He also feels protective of you. He doesn’t know exactly why you’re even down here. For as far is he can tell, you’re an angel. Always being kind even to those who aren’t kind to you, always saying “please” and “thank you,” all that jazz. Jazz! You even like jazz music, his favourite. He told you that he lived on earth the time jazz music was popular. The 20’s and 30’s. That explains his vocabulary and how he dresses. You just find it more interesting and take time to ask questions about what it was like in that time.
“Why of course, my dear! If I’d want to show anyone here, it would be you.” He says, giving you his iconic smile.
You have a thought. “Hey, Al? Would it be alright if the next time you do a show, I could stay and listen?”
You hope he doesn’t think this is odd.
Alastor raises a brow. “Why would you want to do that?” He asks.
You panic, thinking you went too far by asking and now he’s going to cut you off or something.
“Ha! Kidding, sweetheart! Of course you can. I love when my broadcast is wanted to be listened to. Though I love it as well when they don’t want to.” He says.
You’re relieved, a bit scared, but still relieved.
“Say!” He says. “I was going to make one tonight talking about this silly technology box that thinks he is better than me! You know, expose all his lies and secrets to my listeners, and unwilling listeners. Maybe broadcast it all throughout hell!” He starts laughing manically. Then calms down and stares at you.
“Would you want to stay and listen, hm? I can do it now! I didn’t have any plans today going forward and well, getting it out sooner is better than later, I always say.” He asks.
You know he’s talking about Vox when he mentioned the technology box. Him and Vox have a sort of rivalry going on. Though Alastor seems to not care much about him, Vox is sure obsessed. He’s even gone so far as to making posters about him. Which areee.. not much of a resemblance.
This offer strikes you and you immediately perk up. “Yes! I’d love to.” You say.
You don’t think Alastor knows this but whenever you’re struggling to sleep, you put on his radio show and his voice comforts you to sleep. You’re sure if you told him, he would find it weird.
Little did you know, Alastor already knew. He walked past your room one night and heard static sounds coming from your quarters. He immediately was intrigued and put his ear close to your door to hear his voice. He was surprised, but not weirded out. He found it delightful that you found comfort in his voice. It’s not everyday someone does. Usually it invokes terror and anxiety on anyone who hears. This was new, and he didn’t hate it.
“Lovely! Let me get all set up. You can sit wherever you feel the most comfortable!” He says, adjusting his mic and pressing a buttons on his table.
You find a spot and sit down. Feeling honored to even be in the same room as him, let alone HIS room.
“Ahem! Welcome ladies and gentlemen-“ He goes off into his introduction, before winking at you and starting.
After about 20 minutes, you begin to feel tired and put your head on the side of the wall, still listening but with your eyes closed.
Alastor immediately notices and smirks, knowing how his voice effects you. He continues on and after about another 20 minutes, he finishes up. You’re asleep, slightly smiling.
He walks over to you and looks down.
“My, my. You really are an interesting one, aren’t you?” He whispers. He smiles more softly than he usually does and looks around to find a purple blanket hanging on his deer coat hanger, and gently places it on you.
He feels his heart fluttering while looking down at you and he immediately shrugs it off.
“Mm well, my dear.. I guess you can stay here. I’ll just be over there, transferring my broadcast to the other radios around town.” He says and points to his table.
“Sleep well, amour.” He speaks softly.
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friuut · 16 days
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HARVEST MOON
listed on my inprnt :)
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rreids · 10 hours
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KISS STAINS • S. REID X READER
fluff; kissing; reader wears a red lipstick; gn reader; spencer is down horrendous; ~900 words
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“Baby,” you call to where Spencer sits in the living room, working on a puzzle you bought him. “Can you come here for a sec?”
He hums an assent, just barely loud enough for you to hear and appears a minute later. “Hi, honey,” he whispers, leaning over and down to kiss you before straightening back up. “What’s up?”
You smile up at him and wave a lipstick tube. His brows furrow before raising in recognition as you pull the cap off.
“Can you put it on me and tell me what you think of the color on me?” You pout your lips at him and tilt your head expectantly.
He swallows and carefully grabs the lipstick, studying your features. “Yeah.” He breathes out the answer, lightly gripping your chin with his free hand to tilt your face up to him.
Spencer is slow and delicate as he spins up the lipstick and carefully lines your lips on the edges before filling the middle with smooth swipes. 
“How do you know how to put a red lip on?” You ask, trying to keep from sounding too pouty, as he pulls back slightly and studies your features.
“Watched Elle and Emily do it for years,” he mumbles. “Especially when we were out at bars and stuff, how they reapplied. And I’ve looked up how to put on and remove every type of makeup for you in case you ever ask.” He adds the last part quietly and your smile overtakes your face.
Spencer nods. “You look gorgeous. It suits you.”
You beam and tug him down to sit next to you, laughing at the way he stumbles and blinks, bewildered.
He’s wearing a loosely-done white button-up, gorgeous and slightly too sheer for him to ever wear out.
“Good. It’ll look good on you, too.”
You can practically see the question marks around his head.
“You’re putting it on me?” He mumbles. “Why?”
“Not the traditional way…” you whisper before pressing a kiss on his cheek, leaving a wet kiss mark as the satin of the lipstick has yet to dry down.
He flinches at the sensation. “Feels weird.”
“But it looks so pretty. You look pretty, Spence. Let me? You can take it off right after I get a photo.”
His brow furrows, but his complaint hesitates on his tongue as you kiss the exposed skin of his chest and leave another mark. “Just don’t send it to anyone.”
“Of course,” you whisper, kissing his other cheek, right where his dimples are. “Just for me.”
Spencer’s face is burning under your lips as you leave more marks on him, his chest flushed red when you pull back to study your work.
You smile at him and he smiles back before gasping as you kiss right next to his mouth, and he melts into you, hands finally moving to hold you.
“Gimme a real one,” he whispers, eyes sparkling with boyish want as he voices the request. “Like you mean it.”
With a soft exhaled laugh, you oblige, tilting his chin up and studying the youthful excitement and your marks all over his face before slotting your lips to his. He lets out a sigh of relief, immediately finding a rhythm in tandem with yours. 
He tastes like his sugary coffee and him, familiar and perfect enough to empty your head of any thoughts that aren’t about his kiss and taste.
Spencer tilts his head and presses deeper, surging up to press closer to you.
When you pull back for air, he whines and follows you, fingers twitching in frustration as he tries to keep you pinned to his body.
“The— the photo.” You remind him, dazed and with skin just as hot as his. “Then we can take it off and I’ll kiss you as much as you want. Real ones.”
Spencer nods and lets you pose him, cheeks burning on the peaks as you snap the picture. He flinches when you first put the cold make-up wipe to his cheek, the temperature too starkly different, but he melts into you as you gently sweep over and remove each stain — except the one on his lips.
“You missed a spot, honey,” he tells you, looking up curiously as he swipes his tongue over his lips. You shake your head, and his brows raise. “No?”
“It’ll get lipstick on it again anyways,” you murmur as you finally sink down onto him and kiss him again. His eager response makes you smile into it, threading your fingers into hair at the nape of his neck.
Spencer sighs and drops his forehead to your shoulder after a few minutes, letting you play with his hair as he steadies his breathing. “Did you know that a red lip—”
You frown. There were statistics about red lips?
“Is my favorite on you?”
Nevermind. You beam at him. “Really?”
“Really.” Spencer tells you, kissing your collarbone gently. “It drives me crazy.”
“Well, now you’ve given me too much power. I can wear it and have you do whatever I want…”
“I’d do anything you want anyways,” Spencer mumbles, almost defeatedly. “You don’t need the lipstick for me to find you breathtaking and lose all sense.”
You smile, tugging his hair so he looks up at you, lashes fluttering and eyes soft from where he rests. “All sense?”
Spencer swallows. “Yeah. I feel like I forget everything I know unless it’s related to you.”
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not a want to do this and date him but a need
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sydlar · 2 days
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Vamplico dump... I have more.... should i upload them...... who up.....
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btsvt-bar · 15 days
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Fuckboy!Wonwoo going for shy!reader since he assumes they’re a virgin, just to find out reader is an absolute freak and rides him until he passes out
wonwoo bias wrecked me so much after the follow again concerts that this just came to life on it’s own. i wrote the freshman experience based off of how it is on my country and i loved writing this, so i hope you enjoy it too! ♡
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fuckboy!wonwoo who’s your game design course sunbaenim. he contradicts all paradigms about nerds, because he’s hot as fuck.
fuckboy!wonwoo who spots you on the first day of classes. he sees you walking past him in your tiny skirt and "I ♡ games" tshirt and finds you adorable.
fuckboy!wonwoo who fights with other veterans to keep you as his freshman. he loses the argument to Nayeon, the course’s student’s president, and sulks for the rest of the day.
fuckboy!wonwoo who hits on you at the bar that night. everyone’s whispering about the two of you.
since Nayeon’s done her job and warned you before hand about Wonwoo’s reputation, you turn him down nicely because you hate the attention. of course, it only spurs him on.
fuckboy!wonwoo who tried to befriend you as a way of getting into your pants (well, he’s a fuckboy after all!).
a couple months after, once he realizes you’re actually really funny and outgoing when you feel comfortable enough, he finds himself enjoying the time you two spend together.
fuckboy!wonwoo who becomes obsessed with you. he convinces himself it’ll fade away once he fucks you. but then he finds himself getting so fucking jealous when he hears you calling Seungcheol your “oppa”. he knows Cheol has a thing for you — your innocent, virgin like persona is driving every male student wild. so he feels his blood boiling when you touch his hyung’s bicep as you smile sweetly and bat your eyelashes.
fuckboy!wonwoo who gets really annoyed when his friends mock him, claiming he lost his charms and won’t get to fuck you like he would do to any other girl.
"it’s up to Coups Hyung to pop her cherry." Jeonghan holds back a laugh as Wonwoo rolls his eyes.
Like hell we will! he thinks.
fuckboy!wonwoo who tries to sleep with someone else to get off and forget about you. but it doesn’t work and he gets more frustrated than before.
fuckboy!wonwoo who offers to help you with your class project and goes to your shared dorm room on a Saturday night. you open the door and he holds his breath when he sees your super princess peach cropped shirt.
"what? it’s my favorite game" you state, with a pout in your lips, when he stares for too long.
"oh, nothing. it’s a good one." he babbles, averting his eyes from your chest. your shirt was probably old, since he could see the outline of your nipples through the white fabric. he swallows nervously, trying to shake the image of your pebbled nipples off of his head.
fuckboy!wonwoo who gets distracted by your short sleeping shorts, since they do the bare minimum to cover you up.
"Nonu, are you listening?" you complain as you shake him. his eyes are out of focus when he meets your gaze. "earth to Nonu! what are you thinking about?"
fuckboy!wonwoo who bites his lower lip and stares at you.
"i’m thinking about you, cutie." he flirts. usually, you would blush and avert your eyes. so it’s a shocker for him when your Bambi eyes transform into a siren gaze.
“what about me?" you whisper, inching closer to his face. "is it about the ways you’d like to fuck me?" that’s all it takes for Wonwoo to take off his glasses and crash his lips into yours.
fuckboy!wonwoo who gets really excited and surprised when he finds out you’re not a virgin. in fact, you’re a total freak in bed. he feels a bit fooled since you got everyone believing you’re a pure angel, but he isn’t about to complain.
not when you’re jumping up and down on his dick with your pretty boobs on full display for him.
fuckboy!wonwoo who fucks up into you with all his might, thinking that he could die happy buried in your heat like that.
you’re riding him so good, your hips grinding against his and your hands clawing at his chest. your lips are red and swollen from kissing, your head’s thrown back in pleasure. you let out quiet ah-ah-ahs that enter Wonwoo’s ears and spin down his body directly to his dick.
fuckboy!wonwoo who nearly blows his load when you ask him to choke you.
his big hand presses on your throat with minimum force, but you demand more pressure and he complies.
fuckboy!wonwoo who circles your clit and sucks your nipples to help you cum. and when you do, he follows shortly after, emptying three months worth of blue balls in the condom and nearly passes out.
fuckboy!wonwoo who cuddles you and realizes he’s been tricked.
"i’m not complaining, but i thought you were a virgin."
you laugh, turning around to face him. "and the resident fuckboy gets played." pride bubbles in your chest. Wonwoo smiles at you, his brown eyes still a bit glazed over from his high.
"i liked being played" he admits with a shy smile.
fuckboy!wonwoo who refuses to go back to his own room. thank goodness your roommate is not coming back for the night.
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© btsvt-bar, 2024
read next: soft dom!joshua
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deceitfuldevout · 3 months
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Until Death (Part 1)
Arranged Marriage AU: Dark!Husband!Rafe Cameron x Wife!Reader
Word Count: +1,524
Warning(s): +18, Non con, Non consensual photographing, Domestic Violence, Humiliation, Forced breeding, Unwanted orgasm.
Author's Note(s): I wrote this cause I really wanna get married and find someone to love me but I don’t think it’s possible so here’s a fic instead 🥲
You never would've imagined being married to the Kook king himself, Rafe Cameron. But here you were, almost a year in. From the beginning you felt like an outsider. Even in the new home that Ward had gifted you. It was decision made by both of your fathers. Ward wanted someone from a family he knew very well. Your fathers were childhood friends and trusted each other enough to make the right decision. Whether their children were willing to or not. An arranged marriage between a Kook and a Pogue. One of the first of its kind.
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Ward needed an heir from his only son. It was about time Rafe learned some responsibility. Ward needed to find a family with no authority or power. So, what better decision than to contact an old friend from the cut? Ward managed to pull himself out of there, your father on the other hand, wasn't so lucky. However, by Mr. Cameron's gracious offer, your father had been given a position in his company. Ward would handle the paperwork, while your father handled construction and remodeling.
It was enough to get by, but not enough to get out of the cut. That's why your father made the brash decision. Ward didn't see a problem with the arrangement given your family had no name for themselves. To him, having a family with no name or status is better than being involved with a tarnished one. It would avoid any unwanted attention for the Cameron family.
All your father wants is to make sure his only child would be taken care of once he's gone. You've only met Rafe during family events/outings, and when you did meet, he'd always try to torment you. Other than that, most of time would be spent clinging to Sarah for protection.
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You hadn't known about the arrangement until a week prior. You defiantly hadn't expected Rafe to get on one knee in front of everyone. Your engagement was a nightmare, Rafe had decided to ambush you during the Kook's annual midsummer event. A few months later you married into the Cameron family. The event being of the most lavish, expensive, and largest weddings in the history of the Outer Banks.
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Rafe made the decision that your honeymoon would be spent ‘setting up home’. You bid your family and friends a farewell before leaving with your husband. It was awkward enough that he'd been drinking for most of the night. What was supposed to be a beautiful ceremony quickly became a frat party. It was awkward enough when Rafe (who'd been drinking most of the night) tried carrying you across the threshold of what was your new home. He stumbles a few times, almost dropping you on the front steps. All you wanted was to go to bed after a long and eventful day.
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In a fit of rage you rush up the stairs and into the master bedroom. You hadn't even changed out of your wedding dress. Deciding that it would be done tomorrow, as would everything else. It was tiring, putting on an act in front of hundreds of people. You were relieved for it to be over with. Until the harsh turning of the doorknob catches your attention. In came a very intoxicated Rafe Cameron, stumbling in with his tie already undone.
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His hair was a mess from wrestling his groomsman, his expensive cologne overtaken by the stench of alcohol. All you want now is to sleep after being anxiety ridden for the past few hours. But the shuffling on the end of the bed made your stomach churn. Maybe if you pretended to be asleep he would leave you be.
Rafe reaches down to brush the back of his hand on your cheek. He couldn't help but chuckle at his fiancee--no, his wife. You're his wife now and he couldn't believe it. He grins from cheek to cheek, hovering over to study your features. You could hear Rafe talking to himself, "You're even prettier up close..."
Rafe was fine with the wedding day being for his wife, but it was the wedding night that belonged to the husband. 
He gets on his knees, preparing to strike. He pulls you but the ankle, dragging you across the bedsheets. He locks his arms around your thighs to pull you in. It was futile trying to fight back. Rafe rips away at the fabric, revealing what was for his eyes only. He doesn't waste time getting to work, suckling, lapping, and teasing at your sex.
When he starts to dip his tongue inside that's when you crumble beneath him. Your thighs shake when coming undone. A gush of arousal splashes his face. Rafe doesn't stop there, instead he keeps going until you're brought to tears cumming for the second time. He retreats with a triumphant look on his face.  
"Hey...." he whispers followed by a harsh grip on your jaw that turns your attention back to him, "Hey," his voice boomed. He held you in place, looking you right in the eyes when he states, "Look at me," a small pause follows, "No one is coming through that door to save you," he readjusts his grip, digging his fingers into your jaw, "No one is coming through that door, we're the only ones here," leaning in, "And if they heard they wouldn't care, they know their place," before lifting your skirt up, "It's about time you did too," Rafe held his cock in one hand, his other held your hip in place. He pumps his shaft a few times before rubbing it against your slick. He moans, "Oh fuck...can't wait to stuff you with it..." Rafe dips his head into the crook of your neck, his lips find that sweet spot. He suckles until he's certain there would be bruising.  
"You can scream all you want, no one’s gonna stop me,” he presses his leaking tip against the small opening, pushing it in without hesitation, “Not you…” he just his hips, “Not our families,” thrusting his cock inside, “No one…” fastening his pace. He’d been waiting for this moment for a long, long time. You had no idea that Rafe had willingly entered this marriage.
Can’t you see? He’s been in love with you for as long as he can remember. Yet you kept denying him repeatedly. Now Rafe has everything he’s ever wanted. He’s inherited the Cameron family fortune, gained the trust of his father as well as yours, and now he has you.  
He doesn’t stop thrusting his hips back and forth. Reveling in the feeling of you squeezing his member. It was exactly how he’d fantasized about. No more having to spend late nights wondering what you would feel like. He has you right where he wants. Rafe pulls down your top, exposing both breasts. He nips and suckles at them until they’re nice and bruised. He takes pride in being able to do so. Rafe squeezes your mouth open before pressing his lips against them. He sucks your tongue into his mouth, swirling it around his. The taste of liquor makes you nauseous.  
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This wasn’t how you wanted to end the night. In the end you never had a choice. Your entire life revolving around men in power. A lamb sent to be slaughter, given only the right to live. Even if it meant living for someone else. Rafe presses his sweaty forehead against yours. He snarls, "You're my wife until I fucking die, do you hear me? Until death," his teeth sink into the flesh of your shoulder, digging hard enough to break skin.
A howl escapes your body as pain shot through it. Rafe held you close to him until he finally reached his limit and finishes inside. A deep, guttural moan is muffled into the bite mark. For a moment the two of you stay together until finally Rafe draws back. He’s a panting mess. He could practically feel how slick you became. He lets out a satisfying huff of victory. Rafe had won.  
A part of him wants to remember the day he finally got to take you. Then it hits him, “Wait…don’t move,” rummaging through a cabinet. He retreats down the hall. You could hear him searching for something in the unopened boxes. He then returns to you with a Polaroid in hand. He straddles your waist, aiming the lens at you. Rafe smiles, “Something to remember this moment...” he aims it right in your face, “...our first time as husband and wife,” before clicking it.
You could only give a startled look as you stare back at him. Like a deer caught in headlights. Rafe inspects the photo of you. He whistles at the beautifully captured moment. There you were, staring back at him with smudged lipstick and running mascara. You only blink as he stood there, snapping pictures like it was some heartfelt moment. What was supposed to be the most important day of your life, ended in the worst way imaginable.
"Smile for me Mrs. Cameron..."
Rafe was fine with the conditions of inheritance. In order to stay in his father's will, he would have to settle down first. But if there's one thing Ward taught him, it's to negotiate. Rafe remembers striking the deal in his father's office. For the first time ever, the young Cameron man put his foot down,
"No," Rafe states,
Ward looks up at his son, "I'm sorry?"
"I'm not getting married, not unless it's her," he's dead serious too. Ward sighs, he leans back in his chair, "Do you really want to marry this girl?" questioning his son's authenticity. Rafe nods, "It's always been her,"
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Ward understands now that his son's mind is made up. Not even he could stop it, "Rafe...you have to understand that her father is a very important member of my company..." he starts, "...he's a bit of a... traditionalist," he pushes himself off the desk, approaching his son, "He expects a certain price for her hand, that I’m not worried about…” he held Rafe's shoulder.
Ward looks his son dead in the eyes to show how serious this situation was to both of their families, “Do not fuck this up, you only get one shot and then you're done, do you hear me? Done," he expects an answer. Rafe looks him in the eyes, there’s a park of determination in the young Cameron man, “I won't,” sealing the deal. Ward picks up his phone and dials up your father’s number, "My friend, you're needed at the office, it's about time we discuss family matters,"
The best decision Rafe made was making you Mrs. Cameron.
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odyssean-flower · 3 days
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the chapter is not betaed so there are probably a lot of typos, sorry in advance. i hope its worth the wait though, it's a bit messy
also, that scene is included! i decided not to cut it. it's funny how that one scene got so much more likes than the other deleted scenes i posted lol
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