#and he just turns around to look one last time with all that fear and expectancy in his eyes | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

shiny-jr · 10 hours

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not my world [ prologue ]

– Summary: One day you wake in a foreign world with nothing to your name except the clothes on your back. A talking cat named Grim, gives you your only lead to return home. Seek out the seven gods and pray they answer your plea.

– Warning: Yes, this series is a yandere thing, although this post really isn't. Gender-neutral reader.

– Characters: Grim.

– Note: Think of this like a test, just to see how it's received. Yes, this is based off that outlander post I made a while ago. I was thinking I could make this a long-lasting series. However, it really depends how y'all like it. There's not too much going on here, because I'm trying to set the scene and I wrote it all fairly quickly. However, it's just a small taste. So, let me know what y'all think.

– Pages: 11

“So… you’re saying that you woke up here on this beach with no explanation, but you’re from another world so you have no idea where you are? You fell asleep in your own bed, in your own home, and now you’re here, with no way to go back?”

As far fetched as it sounded, you could only grimly nod. A dream, this should’ve just been a nightmare. But that was confirmed to be false when you pinched yourself multiple times and tried to splash yourself with the nearby ocean water. Everything felt so real, from the sand between your toes to the breeze in the air and the sunlight drying the water off the surface of your flesh. You wanted it to be nothing but a dream, especially when you found a talking cat with a forked tail and blue fire in his ears.

This was your third attempt trying to explain things to this impish but rather harmless little furball, and each time he seemed more puzzled than the last. His little black nose twitched as he sat in front of you, his paws digging into the sand as those strange eyes of his studied you closely. His voice was grating, high-pitched, speaking with a tone of doubt. “You don’t look like you’re from any of the seven nations. No pointed ears, no beast features, not even a magestone to your name! Well, it makes sense. A nobody like you obviously wouldn’t have a magestone anyways.”

That was probably meant to be an insult, but considering you didn’t even know what a magestone was, you didn’t really take any offense at all. Pointed ears, beast features, magestones, annoying talking cats– you really didn’t care about any of that. “Because I’m not from whatever seven nations there are. I already told you where I’m from.”

“Yeah, well I never heard of wherever it was you said. So get lost, would you, human? I’ve claimed this beach alrea–”

A low growl rang in the air. Swiftly you scanned your surroundings, fearful that you were about to be attacked by some mythical beast. However, when you looked back to the feline who now looked quite ashamed, you realized the noise came from his stomach. Actually, the little fellow seemed pretty scrawny, and you could just barely make out the shape of his ribs poking out of his sides.

Standing up, you brushed off the sand clinging to the oversized t-shirt you fell asleep in. Thankfully, you at least had sandals, which was better than waking up here barefoot. With one look around, there didn’t appear to be anyone for miles, and no sign of civilization here. Leaving the cat as your only option to turn to, as jarring as it was to be speaking to a cat. “Er… Look, if you could at least help me find people, a shelter, a city, something– then I’ll see about getting you something to eat. Deal?”

“I don’t need your help! But… I’m curious, so I’ll follow anyway.”

“Great…” You sigh, as you decide to follow a path that leads away from the shoreline and into woodlands. At the very least, you were not completely alone. This would be much more terrifying if you had woken up and there was absolutely no one around. “So, do you have a name or are you, like, feral?”

“I’m not feral!” It hissed as it walked in tandem beside you, keeping up with your steady pace. “Since I am so great, I will allow you to know my name. I am the all-mighty Grim! One-of-a-kind and destined to one day become strong, powerful enough to defeat even the seven gods!”

“Seven gods…?” Was this some sort of fantasy setting? It had to be. First he mentioned pointed ears and beast-people, and you were having a conversation with a talking cat! Maybe seven gods were the least outlandish thing you’ve heard today. “Well, I’m (Y/n).”

“You’ve never heard of The Seven? How stupid could you be?”

You frowned at his toothy little grin as he ridiculed you for your knowledge on a place you just ended up in. “Well excuse me for not knowing anything about this place I just ended up in!” Tearing your gaze away, you saw a cabin up ahead. It appeared abandoned, so there wasn’t any hope of seeing another person yet. Still, there may be something useful inside, so you approach.

Trying the knob, you found the lock jammed. The wood of the front door was rotting, some of it in splitters and the windows were shattered. With a few strong kicks, the door became dislodged and finally gave way beneath the pressure.

“You’re excused– hey! Tuna!” You didn’t even bother stopping the feline when he rushed into the abandoned cabin, sprinting after the few cans of tuna he spotted on an old table. At least he would get to eat.

You didn’t particularly care for canned fish that’s been sitting there for who knows how long. In practically a blink of the eye he had devoured three whole cans of the stuff and licked the remnants off of his whiskers.

“Okay, okay, since I feel so bad for you, and because you found these tuna cans, I’ll be your guide. That way, I don’t owe you nothin’ after this! Maybe one day, if you’re still around, you’ll see me ascend to the ranks among the archons and you can brag like I knew him! Isn’t Grim so cool and praise worthy? I might even remember you and accept your prayers! You can thank me now.”

At his smug expression, you squinted incredulously as he began walking down the path in the middle of the woods once more. Following hesitantly, thankful there was daylight and this seemed like a particularly nice forest, save for the very depths of it further away from the road that were dark due to the cover of leaves and branches above. However, the trees closest to you weren’t so dense, and the sunlight filtered through the thin foliage. The dirt road was wide, but slightly covered with scattered blades of grass and underbrush, as if no one had used it in a long while. Squirrel-like critters darted about in trees, strange fruits hung on low-branches, and foreign flowers sprouted alongside little ponds.

“I’ll thank you after an explanation and a little help. So, what’s this about gods?”

“Let’s see… I’ll put it so simple that even a baby can understand! There are seven nations, and each one has a god. These gods are super-powerful! I’m talking crazy-strong, like they can level mountains and raise the sea type of miracles!”

As he strolled beside you, his forked-tail swished back and forth. For now it seemed like he knew where he was going, so hopefully that was a good sign. Right now, you had no idea what to do or how to get home. However, if magic existed in this realm, then surely there would be some way to get back. There had to be, for your own peace of mind.

“Maybe if you pray to one, you’ll get an answer. But the chances of that are pretty much zero, because only idiots rely on the gods since they almost never answer. You’d have a better chance trying to actually meet one of them and try to talk to them in person, but good luck with that!”

As the road neared a cliff, you caught a glimpse of the scenery. It was a kingdom, a whole city that began right at the edge of a vast meadow. The rolling valley ended at a river, across a wide stone bridge where the city began. Miles and miles of cobblestone roads lined with two to three-story buildings, and rising above it all was a white palace with red conical roofs that pierced the very sky. It looked fantastical, like something straight out of a peculiar little story book, especially considering how unnaturally bright the flowers were and how there was the occasional mushroom as tall as a tree.

Never before in your entire life had you ever seen a single place like this. Some stupid naive little part of yourself had hoped that perhaps you were still in your world, but this was simply proof that tore that little shred of hope to bits. “What is this place…?”

He paused to scratch a spot behind his ear. “That’s the capital city of Heartslabyul. You see that big palace all the way over there? That’s where the god of fire lives. One day, I’m gonna live in a place even bigger, grander, than that! My worshippers will build, brick by brick, a towering temple that reaches the very heavens! It’ll make that palace look puny in comparison!”

Dumbfounded, you nearly get left behind in your stupor once the feline begins to walk down a rocky slope again. You follow, as Grim yammered on and on, “Fire is harsh, just like that place. Trust me, I tried staking a claim there, but I was kicked out! Can you believe it? Me! They just threw me out as if I were nothing! Anyways, I already forgot what you were looking for, but whatever it is, you’ll probably find something there––”

“A way home?” You reminded him, a tiny bit irked that he seemed to forget so easily. For such a haughty little beast with nothing to his name, he was very conceited.

“Ooh yeah, right. That. Gods have all this magic and wisdom from their years and stuff, so they gotta know something. But if I were a god, I wouldn’t answer you, to be honest.”

Grumpily you point out the obvious. This cat-like creature was far from the divine that you were currently picturing. “You’re not a god.”

Yowling in response, Grim shot back with irritation, “Yet! Not a god yet!” When he spat, a small puff of smoke and a spark of flames he tried to aim at the dirt caused his blue ear flames to flicker stronger until one stray flame popped like a hot scorching coal. It went flying directly at your face, and all you could do was react quickly enough to try and step back while your arms and hands covered your face.

However, no pain ever came. “How are you doing that?!”

“Doing what? And you need to watch it with––” When you began to lower your arms, you saw it. When you had shielded yourself, your knuckles had been against your cheek and so your palm was facing outward. Floating in your open palm, was that small spark that came from his ears and nearly burned you. Immediately your eyes widened, and the surprise didn’t end there. As if fluctuating with your shock, the fire became a small yet harsh monetary crackling burst that caused both you and the feline to yelp and stumble back in disbelief until your palms were normal once again.

“You big fat liar! You do know magic! Where’s your magestone?”

Seeing his gray fur stand on edge, you quickly answered, seemingly just as confused as he currently was. “I-I don’t, I swear! I don’t even have a wizardstone! That has never happened to me before! This, magic, stuff like that, talking cats, huge mushrooms, none of this is supposed to be real!”

“Magestone! Not wizardstone! M-A-G-E!”

“Same difference, what do I care?” You had to double-check your hands, wanting to trick yourself again into believing it was something that could be easily explained. Yet this didn't seem like that. This was something else entirely that didn’t make sense, it couldn't be explained. Not while you were still reeling and staring at your own two hands in utter disbelief. “What the hell was that…?”

Sniffing the air around you, Grim paced slowly around you as his whiskers twitched with each sniff. After several rounds circling you, he plopped down in front of you and peered up at you quizzically. “I really don’t smell a magestone on you… but you used my fire! It was blue! Everyone knows you can’t use magic without one! Wait a moment… this is perfect!” Immediately brightening up, the little creature gave a toothy grin as he declared, “From now on, you will be my servant! One day when I am a god, I will make you a demi-god! Everyone knows the great gods have divine or mystic servants of some kind! So you will be my henchman! Count yourself blessed, human.”

“What…?” For now you didn’t even want to touch anything, especially yourself. What if you just tapped something and it was set ablaze? Although you felt fine physically, you were not completely okay. Mentally your mind was scrambled with trying to comprehend everything going on and being said, and now you had the additional burden of accidentally burning everything you touched.

“Maybe it has to do with the fact that you aren’t from here, so this world’s rules don’t even apply to you… yeah, that’s it! This is great! Does this mean you can wield other elements? We should try! If it storms tonight, we’ll stand at the highest cliff and wait for lightning to strike!”

“Definitely not!” You screech in reply, currently trying to prevent yourself from panicking and having a destructive mental breakdown all at the same time. Keeping your arms away from your body and fingers spread apart, you tentatively try grabbing stones and sticks and blades of grass to test the ability and see if anything would be set ablaze. And yet, nothing happened, so you slowly began to relax, as much as was possible in that moment.

Grim watched with great intrigue, hoping, wishing, to see you burn something straight with your hands. However, when he saw not a single spark or sign of smoke, he sighed, “Don’t you realize the possibilities! A small chosen few can wield magic like that, and even then, it’s only one element! This means that you might be able to do more! We’ll be legendary, beating every foe we come across!”

“Woah, woah, woah, who said anything about beating foes?” Cutting off that idea right now before it would get out of hand. It had only been a few minutes, not even an hour, and even you could see that Grim was a handful. “I am no fighter. If I magically somehow have these weird abilities now, doesn’t mean I want to fight with them. Are you insane? The most I’ll do is like… instantly heat up my food or make a light in the dark. That’s it. Actually, that first one sounds pretty useful…”

Angrily throwing his paws up in exasperation while falling back on some patches of grass, he groaned, “Ugh, but that’s so boringggg! Where’s your creativity? You could become a god among gods!”

Choosing to ignore his less than enthusiastic response, you proceeded, drawing his attention back to something he recently mentioned. Awkwardly you grip your hands, twisting your wrist between your fingers, yet nothing hurts. Everything felt normal, as if you hadn’t just wielding fire a minute ago. “You said a god of fire resided over there in that city, right?”

“Yeah, you’ll fit right in with all those hot-headed fire-breathers now that you have a bit of magic.”

As the two of you neared the bottom of the cliff and approached a smaller section of the forest that would lead directly to the road that branched off into either a vast meadow or the gates of the kingdom, the world seemed to stop when a loud rumbling rang through the air. The birds ceased their singing songs and the squirrelish creatures paused their chittering chattering. The ground shook and in the far distance, miles and miles behind the palace where there looked to be nothing but untamed wilderness, balls of fire spewed forth from what you had thought were mountains but were actually volcanoes. Seeing the smoke pour out from the peak, you debated running right back to the beach which was in the opposite direction of the rupture in the earth.

While initially startled, Grim quickly relaxed and began his walking again just as the sounds of nature resumed their tune. As if by some miraculous work of magic, the volcano stopped its rumbling just as quickly as it began, and the smoke receded as well. Like a pot popping on a stovetop and simmering over with water, but its vapor and contents contained by a top, that’s how rapidly it started and ended. Grim proceeded to walk in front of you to lead the way. Sensing your question before you even voiced it, he called out over his shoulder,

“Don’t look so panicked, we’re not gonna die. That happens like once a week. It used to be more sparse but… well, like I said, all the humans in the kingdom are a buncha hotheads. Especially their king! Everyone knows the god of pyro has the worst temper of all the seven, that’s why the volcanoes go off when he’s all angry! All you gotta do is gather up the courage to ask him what you want to know, and pray that he doesn’t incinerate you where you stand.”

#shiny speaks #twst #twisted wonderland #grim #twst grim #outlander twst #not my world

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appleblueberry-pie · 2 days

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Hello again, I hope you are having a good day. May I please request for Yandere Nanami wherein he miscalculates how long his business trip would be and he comes home to emotionally wrecked and hungry darling ( He locked them in the closest as a punishment prior) which leads to hurt comfort between the two

Nanami opened the front door and kicked off his shoes, sighing in disappointment at his timing and at how late at night he got back at. Traffic was terrible, his shoes weren't as comfortable as they were this morning, and he missed you terribly. He ran his fingers through his hair that no longer mattered now that he was indoors and put his suitcase out of sight.

He was going to call out that he was home, but reminded himself that he still had you cooped up in that shitty basement. He walked through the house and into the kitchen to finally get you a glass of water. He was only supposed to be on that business trip for around two days and be back home by the time the third day ended. The basement was very spacious, but even he had his limits in there. Which is why it was a great punishment, in his mind. He had enough of your mouth and you attempted to escape after almost sending him over the edge all in one day. But he still worried for you. There were no lights or any sense of comfort in there. At this point, he just wants you in his arms again. The thought makes his heart race in excitement. You must feel so lonely, feel so anxious, so cold, and

You freeze when you turn and see Nanami standing a few feet away from you, watching you shove your fifth slice of bread into your mouth. The two of you mirrored the same look of horror as you acknowledged one another. Nanami's face contorts into one of realization while yours continues to drop. Your stomach twists in fear at the sight of your captor finding you outside of your confinement and suddenly you feel nauseous and no longer desire any kind of elements of nutrition.

Pieces of food that weren't swallowed fall out of your mouth in fear and surprise and you scatter off to the nearest room with a lock and you slam it shut, fiddling with the lock and somehow manage to turn it with terribly shaky hands. It's hard to breath and you hyperventilate as you scoot into a corner, keeping yourself huddled.

Kento was still stuck in place, his mouth open in complete shock. You had ransacked the entire kitchen. He lets his eyes scan over everything on the ground. Almost nothing in the cabinets or fridge was left untouched, so many things left open and touched by his poor, poor girl's fingers. Juice, crackers, the bread you tore into, butter, cereal, refrigerated rice, half-eaten boxes of vegetables and fruits, uncooked noodles......it didn't end there.

The more his eyes found laying around, the heavier his heart got. This was all his fault. He didn't mean to......do this to you. Not at all. His eyes flutter shut as he rubs them, a sigh leaving his mouth. This wasn't supposed to happen. He inhaled sharply to gather more courage to step past the obvious signs of severe neglect he had done to you.

He could hear your fast-paced breathing from outside of the guest-bedroom and shakes his head in shame. He was so fucking ashamed of being so irresponsible with taking care of you. He was supposed to be your lover, your caretaker, the one you should be able to trust. But it seems like he can't even do any of those things right. He was wrong. "I'm sorry." His throat felt like it was constricting his vocals as he chokes out the apology. No kind of words or affirmations could change what he did to you and he wanted to be able to help you see that.

His face was so close to the door, as if he could speak through it into your heart. The last thing he'd do is force you into anything. He deserved to work for your trust back. "I'm so sorry, baby, please." There wasn't much he could make himself say. His ears picked up on your silent sobs and he dropped his forehead on the door, his hands on it as well. "I'm not gonna hurt you, I just wanna see you. It's been so long, hm? Since we last saw each other? I just want to hold you."

You didn't know how to feel. You just did something so very, very wrong. This is the type of behavior that gets you in the basement and a chain on your ankle for decoration. You broke out and practically flipped the kitchen upside-down. What isn't he going to do to you??? You didn't even realize yourself speaking through your tears. Constant 'leave me alone's slipped through your lips as you cried. You were so damn scared of what he'd do to you.

Outside the door, Kento shakes his head at your words and presses the side of his face to the door to hear you better. "No, no, no, no, baby. I won't hurt you, I promise. Can you please trust me just this once? I just want to make sure you're okay. You're hungry, I can tell. Just let me help you and you can get all of the food you want, okay??" Kento shakes the doorknob subconsciously, which makes you gasp in fear. Kento flinches away from it when he hears you make the sound and immediately and tells you he won't do it again.

He continues trying to verbally sooth you through the door, telling you repeatedly that it's okay. "....Everyone has limits. And I pushed you to yours." You wipe your face of your tears and push yourself to your feet.

Slowly, you hesitate, but take your quiet steps towards the door. Nanami can't hear anything on the other side. Are you okay? Why are you quiet? Are you trying to escape through the window??? It's bolted. Never mind. He's worried. "Darling?" He silently whispers. All he gets is the sound of his own breaths.

Then the loud sound of the lock clicks and he takes a step back. The door cracks open, extremely slowly. It's almost impossible to tell. You only leave enough space to look through about 1 inch to peek at him through the door. And even with that much to look at, he can tell you are so scared. He shouldn't have done this. The constant anxiety this is giving him continues to make his stomach cramp. A wobbly smile makes its way onto his face. "There she is! Can you-.....please let me take you out of that room?" He stumbles over his words, his arms awkwardly spreading out to seem as if he's friendly.

The silence you let grow only leaves room for more interpretation. You just stare at him with that stone cold eye. Almost as if you're trying to see through him. But nothing is hiding behind his face but the constant stress he's getting from stressing you out. He obviously loves you too much. He gets overprotective sometimes.

You open the door and step out and his shoulders relax as he very carefully looks over you. You used the bucket. Which was good. So, you were at least somewhat clean. You just looked.....hungry. Your face seemed slimmer, your eyes sunken in exhaustion(not that much, but he's great at details when it comes to you).

Before you could stop him, he was cleaning the kitchen and got to running you a bath and making dinner.

#yandere #yandere x reader #reader #yandere x you #yandere character #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #yandere nanami #nanami kento #nanami kento x reader #yandere nanami kento #yandere nanami kento x reader #nanami x reader #yandere jjk nanami kento #yandere jjk #yandere jjk fluff

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onsomenewsht · 15 hours

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from the vault:

But what can I say? / Rules must be obeyed

》 The Winner Takes It All, ABBA

》 Alexia Putellas x Reader

》 winner takes all [idiom]: used to say that the winner of a round will win the whole contest

No one looks puzzled when a seven-year-old boy comes rushing into Barcelona’s training centre, some even high fives him or cheers as he passes them at full speed.

Rafael is well known and loved in the building, even more for his joyful personality than for the last name he wears on the back of his jersey.

The kid turns a sharp line to join the team outside. Despite his short legs and his clumsiness in most situations, he has quite control of his footing.

The perks of being Alexia Putellas’ son.

“Looks like our mascotte is back”

“The best Putellas!”

The girls notice him as soon as he sprints from the doors, dribbling around some coaches without much effort, but trampling over a discharged pair of boots. The boy lands hands first on the grass. He takes his time to get up and clean his now stained jeans, quickly assessing the damage and deciding he doesn’t really care.

Jana catches the kid as he comes running once again, lifting him up with a bit more effort than the last time she saw him.

“Jaja put me down, I wanna hug mama!”

“Ouch, I’m not your favourite tia anymore?”

“No, Mapi is”

The girls close enough to hear the exchange burst out laughing, luckily for Jana’s ego and the team’s well being the said defender is not around to brag about it.

“Ohi, mi vida!”

“Mama!”

Hearing Alexia’s voice, Rafael manages to escape the girls’ affection to literally run in her open arms. The hug is emotional even just to watch, his tiny hands holding on the blonde’s neck as she keeps him as close as possible.

“I missed you, monito”

No one wants to interrupt the moment, so your arrival is the perfect distraction.

You excuse yourself and the little troublemaker for crushing the training session to everyone you meet on your path. They assure you it’s fine, you two are always welcome, and today is a special one after all.

A lot of hugs and jokes are exchanged, you take your time to greet all the girls, holding more firmly the honorary daughters Alexia took under her wings ages ago. You missed them.

“My favourite Putellas!”, Claudia shouts as she crushes in your arms.

“You just said that to Rafa”

“He’s the best Putellas, you’re my favourite”

“I’m barely a Putellas anymore”

“I thought you were supposed to arrive tomorrow”, Alexia’s tone is nothing but happy for the change of plan, your boy secured in her arms and quiet for the first time in weeks.

“We were, but it’s your last training session and he wanted to be here”, you move closer, messing your son’s hair as you attempt an awkward half hug.

“Mum said we could surprise you! Are you surprised?”

“I’m surprised, monito”, everyone smiles at Alexia’s open laugh.

Rafael’s arrival completely shifted the atmosphere, somehow making it more emotional but definitely lighter. Jana has been on the verge of tears for days now, hiding behind Patri as the weight of their captain’s retirement comes crushing on them.

It’s the right thing and it’s the right time, but it doesn’t mean it is any easier.

Despite all, despite her family’s fear and her teammates’ concern, Alexia is at peace with the choice. Despite your insecurities, Alexia’s certainty when it comes to important decisions like this one still manages to reassure you.

“Can I go shoot at Cata?”, Rafael asks with his mastered puppy eyes, as you drop your gaze at his stained jeans and the Catalan studies the shoes he’s wearing.

Damn puppy eyes.

“You can go, but make sure an actual adult is there too”

“Is Mapi an actual adult?”

“No, ask Ingrid or Rolfo if they want to join”, you add.

He nods enthusiastically, sprinting away toward the bubble of players who are more than happy to welcome the kid as the training session ends on a high note. You’re sure it will be difficult to interrupt their game later.

It’s easy to notice the two of you are left alone, her teammates giving you space but mostly eager to spend more time with your son.

“He just wants to score”

“We’re working on his selfishness with the ball, I swear”

You smile at the blonde soft defence, still amazed about their bond and how considerate she has been about Rafael’s passion for football. Never pressuring, never patronising, always just as supporting as any other parent could be.

“Thank you for bringing him here, I know you’re supposed to be in London for the week and I really appreciate your support”

“Don’t even mention it, Alexia”, you reassure her, “It’s important for you and It’s important for him, I’m more than happy to support it all”

“How long are you staying?”

“Just a couple of days, but we’ll be at any ceremony, don’t worry”

Alexia mumbles unamused, pretending the presence of her family alone is not enough to make her comfortable and confident to face all the events she’s supposed to attend as a celebration of her career.

“He can stay longer, I’ll be back when it’s my turn again”

“Are you sure?”, she is not really able to hide her excitement.

The new and strange routine is just starting to feel like it’s working in the first place, even if dividing a kid between two countries and two parents who didn’t manage to save their marriage is the most painful thing you both ever experienced.

Neither of you wants to upset Rafael and destabilise him even more, or worse, make him feel unloved.

“I’m sure, he’s the winner”

#woso x reader #alexia putellas x reader #woso #woso community #alexia putellas #woso imagine #woso fanfics #ap11 #happy mothers day i guess #here we go again #from the vault #shit i started but left behind #maybe its shit worth to be out here #just quick and short #i hope you like it

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latenightdaydreams · 2 days

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I'm thinking how Konig would react when his wife call him with full him in an argument (about culture bc I'm Asian ehe), like it's a sign of seriousness.

It's the same in my culture! I love thinking about giant König just freezing knowing he went too far😶

Laundry Day (fem)

Master List

>cw: fem/afab, argument, fluff

König has recently retired so that means that he is home constantly now. It means that you both get to spend a lot of time together and you love it, but sometimes he talks to you as Colonel König instead of just your Kö. Today was one of those days.

König comes into the laundry room wearing a towel around his waist as he has just gotten out of the shower. He is holding black workout shorts in his hand with an annoyed look on his face.

“Y/n, you didn’t wash my gym clothes?”

“No, today I only washed bed sheets and towels so far, I’ll get to them.”

“Nien, I told you to wash them last night.” He snaps back quickly.

At this point König is becoming very demanding and his voice has become stern, as if you’re his subordinate. You continue to fold towels and place them into the laundry basket. Trying to remain calm to not make König explode further. After a lifetime in the military, he has remaining traumas and it causes him to act out. You try to not take it so personally, but it’s hard.

“I know, but I wasn’t aware you needed them for today.”

“Of course I would, I work out every day!” He raises his voice slightly.

You take a deep breath, placing the towel down and turning to him. “Yes, but I wasn’t aware that you had no more clean-”

“Why would I ask you if I had clean clothes!” He cuts you off and yells this time.

You tighten your jaw and glare at him. You might be smaller than him, but you aren’t going to just let him walk all over you.

“Maybe next time you should inform me of your schedule and I-”

“Ich bin dein Ehemann! You do what I say, when I ask!” König’s pale face turns bright red as he yells at you, holding up his shorts in a bit of blind rage directed at you.

You’ve had enough, he knows better than to speak to you this way. You toss the basket of clean towels on the floor and turn towards him. The look in your eyes puts fear in the giant man’s heart.

“Alexander Jan König! You DO NOT speak to me that way!” Your voice is loud and stern.

König looks at you with wide eyes and a slack jaw. He is stunned, he isn’t used to people speaking to him like that; especially not his sweet wife. He doesn’t say anything. His face softens and his shoulders drop. His pale blue eyes glued to you, he’s still too scared to move or say anything.

“Do you understand?!”

“Ja-y-yes.” He stumbles over his words as he stands up straight.

“Good!” you walk past him out of the laundry room and he just watches you go before looking back down at the towels on the floor. He listens to you stomp away and slam the bedroom door. He is terrified, but also slightly aroused.

He quickly bends down and begins to clean up the towels on the floor. He begins to start the washer to clean them again for you, he also plans on drying and folding. He goes back to the bathroom and grabs his own gym clothes and gets them ready to be washed next.

Going into the kitchen, he saw dishes in the sink and began to wash them for you. He looks at the clock once he is done and only twenty minutes have passed, but he is still in his towel from the shower so he tries to go up into the bedroom to see if you’re okay.

As you sit on the bed with your arms crossed, still angry, you hear a light knock at the bedroom door.

“Liebling?” König’s voice is gentle as if he’s talking to a child.

“What?”

König opens the door slightly and pokes his head in. His eyes meet yours and he smiles at you timidly.

“Hallo mein Herz, can I come in?”

“Sure.”

König walks in like a dog with his tail between his legs. Your eyes travel over his attractive body as he makes his way to the bed and sits at the edge.

“I-I’m sorry…” the words struggle to leave his lips. Not because he doesn’t feel bad, but because his ego is so fucking big. “I’m sorry I snapped.”

You continue to just sit there and look at him as his head is dropped and his gaze is to the floor, “And what else?”

He turns his head to the side to look at you but quickly looks back away when he sees how mad you still are.

“And I’ll never do it again.”

“And?”

“I’ll take you out tonight for dinner, I can buy you whatever you want.”

You just look at him, up and down. A small smile comes up across your lips. You love to see this behemoth war criminal melt at your feet like this.

“Good. I also want a massage.”

“Absolutely.” König nods while he looks at you. “I’m very sorry. You didn’t deserve that.”

König looks at you with a genuine sympathetic look in his eyes. You're the one person in this world that understands him, he never meant to hurt or lash out at you.

“Thank you for apologizing Kö.”

He reaches his hand out for yours with a small smile on his lips. You reach out and intertwin your fingers with his. König can feel himself begin to relax as he squeezes your hand.

#konig #konig x reader #könig #konig cod #konig x y/n #könig x reader #könig cod #könig mw2 #konig angst #konig x female reader #konig fluff #könig fluff #fluff #cod konig #konig x you #könig call of duty #könig x y/n #könig x you

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shelbygun · 9 hours

Text

happy birthday, baby

pairing: thomas shelby x fem!reader

summary: thomas always wanted you, and he will claim you on your birthday.

warnings: big ? age gap (reader is 17 and tommy in his late twenties, srry i love age gap), p in v, smut, breeding kink, daddy kink, pet names

a/n: the last fic was short and a little miserable so here I bring you one from tommy (because I love him) a little longer <3 I hope you enjoy it, sorry for the spelling mistakes, english is not my first language!

Thomas always wanted you, ever since you were a cute and naive girl. Since you walked through the town in your flowered dress, which gently rose up every time you ran or played. Or since when you visited his house, looking for his sister Ada to play or do homework.

He watched you as you talked about boys with Ada, wishing you would stop naming other stupid boys and just think about him. Oh, he hated it so much when he heard you talk about others and not him.

Although you didn't know it, you were his. Only his. And in that way he took the trouble to scare away any boy who wanted to get close to you, because you were his. In case he didn't notice and saw a boy with you, even a classmate of yours, talking to you or just being close to you, he would send the one of the Peaky Blinders to scare him and threaten him that he shouldn't approach you.

For your part, you didn't understand why the boys didn't approach you, or sometimes they looked at you with fear. You were a good girl to everyone, you never did anything wrong against anyone, and it seemed strange to you that everyone didn't seem to have the guts to approach you.

One day you talked about this with Ada, she told you that they might find you a very pretty girl and were afraid that you would reject them. But you didn't buy that opinion, and you were left with doubt.

Thomas listened to that conversation, and was proud to see that no one approached his girl.

At the same time, you were hiding a little secret that no one knew, not even Ada. You were in love with his brother, with Thomas. And who doesn't? He was a sexy man, all the women died for him, and you felt lucky when he spoke to you or sat next to you at lunch those days when you stayed at the Shelby's house.

But you thought there was no chance of him hanging out with you, since you always saw him with other women, fucking any prostitute. You felt jealous, and a little sad too.

But Thomas only had encounters with women because he had to satisfy his needs while you were out of his reach. Even if he was fucking other women, he would always think about you, about how your body would look below his, how your hips would collide while his cock was thrust into your little virgin cunt again and again. He would also masturbate, thinking that the hands that wrapped around his big size were yours, or imagining your pretty little mouth being violated while you took it all in. He was a little fanciful sometimes.

He promised to wait for you, he fucking promised, but he just couldn't hold back any longer. He had to have you and claim you as his, brand you with the name Thomas Shelby. So now his promise was to wait until your next birthday, when you would turn 17.

He knew that you were a virgin, -since there was a reason he chased men away from you-, so he wanted that night to be pleasant. He would give you your birthday gift, one that you would really enjoy.

One day before your birthday, he noticed that Ada was baking a cake for you. "She will be with us tonight for her birthday." That was what she said when he asked her about the cake, although he knew well the reason for that dessert.

After that, he went around the city looking for a nice gift for you. Nothing expensive or luxurious, since he knew you didn't like those things. Something simple and kind-hearted would catch your attention and would be enough to pamper you.

He bought you a cute and delicate necklace, along with a bouquet of flowers. He was feeling like a man completely lost for you, for your innocence, innocence that he wishes to corrupt.

He kept your gift in his office for the time being, as he still had work to do regarding the business. The whole time he was sitting at his desk, analyzing documents and signing unimportant papers, he was thinking about how you would look tonight, how your moans will sound, how pretty you will look underneath him, begging for more, for his cock. He was already getting hard just imagining your face of pure pleasure and excitement when you reached your first orgasm, caused only by him.

Hours later, after finishing all his paperwork and being completely free of work, he headed home, where you would be too. When he walked through the front door, he could hear your soft giggles mixed with the delicious aroma of the food you were cooking with Ada and Polly.

He disassembled, standing a little close to the kitchen, in the perfect position to see you. You were wearing a beautiful white dress, a symbol of your innocence and purity, the characteristics of your personality that drove him crazy. You looked beautiful with your hair down and long, since you never liked short haircuts.

None of the three of you saw him, nor did they see the bouquet of flowers or the necklace box that were dedicated to you. It was a little secret.

He walked up the stairs, entering his room and closing the door behind him. He sighed tiredly, dropping your gift on his bed. It was too much for him to see you in that tight little dress and not be able to grab you, touch you, eat you with kisses.

He was in his room, imagining the possible scenarios for tonight. He thought about masturbating while, but it was highly inappropriate since you were here. He is a respectful man, only to a point.

A knock on his door interrupted him, standing up from his desk, his cigarette in the side of his mouth. He opened it and found you there, standing in front of him like an angel who just fell from the sky. “Hi, Tommy. We're about to start eating, will you join us?" You said in your sweet little voice, looking adorable as you looked at him with your pretty eyes, those eyes that drove him crazy. "Of course, baby. I'll be with you." He responded, eating you with his eyes. You looked completely delicious in that dress.

The two of you walked down together to the dining room, the table with food and drinks ready. He sat next to you, clearly, and the evening for your birthday began.

Arthur told bad jokes, John joined in his game, and Polly scolded them. You and Ada laughed at their jokes, childish smiles covering your faces. Thomas was serious as always, from time to time he would give a low laugh or a little grin would appear on his lips, but he was totally focused on you, on how beautiful and edible you looked. He wanted to eat you and taste you. He swore that you were going to taste better than all the food that was on the table.

He would put his hand on your thigh sometimes, giving you light caresses, as if anticipating what he was going to do to you. You were blushing hard, biting your lower lip. He did this before, caressing you under the table surreptitiously, but today it felt different.

Before the clock strikes 12, Polly and Ada bring the cake to the table, placing it in front of you. Arthur was looking for a camera, to the sound of "Where's that bloody shitty camera?!" John laughed, amused at seeing his brother renege. Thomas looked at you, and then at the clock. He had the lighter in hand for the candle on the cake.

Finally, after a few minutes, it was your birthday. The Shelby's sang with you while you blew out the candle, Arthur taking pictures of you with the camera he was looking for and John trying to ruin your face on the cake. Of course he didn't because Polly scolded him, and Ada put too much effort into the cake to ruin it.

When they came up to greet you and hug you, Thomas was the last to do so. He approached gently, getting close to you. "Happy birthday, baby. I have a gift for you, but I'm not going to give it to you now." He whispered in your ear with his deep, masculine voice, filling your nostrils with his intoxicating aroma. You nodded at his words, looking at him anxiously.

You were nervous to death, thinking and imagining the gift he had for you. You already had an idea of what it could be, of course, as Thomas has shown more and more the intentions he has for you. Getting closer to you, giving you light caresses when no one was looking. Sneaky but at the same time so predictable.

After eating cake and Arthur having had a few drinks, babbling nonsense and making the whole family and you laugh, everyone decided to go to sleep. Polly said goodbye to each one with a kiss on the forehead, wishing them good night. John was trying to help Arthur guide him to his room, but the man was so drunk and dumb that he couldn't stand up. You and Ada laughed in amusement at his condition. And Thomas was serious, as always, but this time he wasn't the first to enter his room and lock himself up for the night. No, he waited until Ada was distracted to grab your arm and whisper in your ear. "When Ada falls asleep, come to my room. Understand, babe?" He said quietly.

Now all your blood has risen to your cheeks. You and him, at dawn, alone. It was so obvious what he wanted to do to you, how he wanted to take you. And you bit your lips from nerves, from desire. How long have you waited for this, for him, and were you finally going to have it? Plus, on your birthday. It was going to be a memorable day.

God, you have heard my prayers, you said internally.

You walked into Ada's room, looking a little different. She asked you why you seemed so nervous, like waiting for something. You only responded that you were very happy for your birthday and that was enough to convince her. The two of you chatted for a couple of minutes, exchanging giggles from time to time. In your mind you were just praying that Ada would feel tired soon so you could receive your surprise. A few moments later, you heard a yawn from her and she suddenly said she wanted to sleep. Thank you God, you have heard me for the second time.

Both of you lay properly on the bed, with your pajamas on. You said goodnight and turned your backs to sleep. You were waiting patiently for Ada to close her eyes and fall into a deep sleep to leave. You had your eyes open and your mind busy imagining and imagining so you wouldn't fall asleep too. And, like God's third act, a soft but sure snore emerged from her.

Gently and quietly, you got out of bed and walked out of the room. The wood creaked under your feet with each step you took in the hallway, heading towards the lion's den. You opened Thomas's bedroom door without warning. And you saw him.

He was sitting on his bed, his legs slightly open with his elbows resting on his knees while in his hands he had a bouquet of flowers. On his nightstand, a small velvet box lay. Thomas looked up at the creak of the door, a slight, mischievous smile on his lips. "Ada took a while to fall asleep, eh?" he teased in a low, husky tone of voice.

You blushed softly, closing the door behind you and standing a few feet away from him. He gave a nasal laugh and stood up from the edge of the bed, approaching you. You had to lift your head a little to look at him properly. "Happy birthday, baby..." he whispered softly, holding the bouquet of flowers in his hands. You smiled sweetly, taking the bouquet and looking happily at the gift he had for you. "Oh, Tommy... it wasn't necessary..." you murmured, looking adoringly at Thomas and the bouquet.

"It's not the only gift I have for you, love..." he said with a mischievous smile, moving away from you a little to grab the velvet box. "Turn around." He demanded as he approached back. You still had the bouquet in your hands as you turned around, feeling his body stand behind you. Cold metal made contact with the skin of your neck and you saw Thomas's fingers holding a necklace. You stifled a gasp, admiring the metal thread.

You grabbed the necklace with your hand, smiling contently. You noticed that the letters "TS" were written on the necklace pendant.

“This is proof that you're mine now, baby…”He whispered in your ear, gently caressing the sides of your body. “You are totally mine, my love. Until the end of the world you're going to be, do you understand, baby?" He manipulated your little head, leaving soft kisses behind your ear.

And like the good girl you were, you nodded softly, letting yourself be carried away by his pretty words. "I want to make you mine right now, will you allow me, my love?" he asked softly. And again, your little head nodded, allowing him to finally use you.

He turned you around, making you look into his eyes. He gently grabbed your cheek, bringing his lips to yours and kissing you sweetly. This was your first kiss and he wanted you to enjoy it and remember it in a good way. His tongue barely touched your lips, tempting you to more of him.

With a gentle grip on your waist, he laid you down on his bed, pulling you under him as you kissed over and over again. He became addicted to your lips, wanting to have his taste attached to yours. His hands caressed your thighs under your pajama shorts, squeezing your delicious flesh a little.

"Will you allow me, baby?" He whispered in your ear, lacing his fingers in the hem of your cotton t-shirt, asking if he could take it off. With a slight nod, you let your torso be exposed. He was dazzled by your tummy and your pretty breasts that he wanted to squeeze and kiss so much. He did so, leaning his head to your chest and removing your bra, throwing it to the floor. He gently licked the tip of your breast, stimulating the other with his hand. You let out a soft moan, closing your eyes and grabbing his hair, enjoying the new pleasure.

He played with your nipples a little longer, playing like a little child. "They're so cute, my love. I hope to see them more often..." he teased, giving them one last kiss before lowering his lips to your tummy, letting his breath hit your pelvis covered by the shorts.

“You can, Tommy. Please do it." You whispered, eager to feel his touches down there, on your virgin cunt. He looked at you softly as he cupped your cheeks. "No more Tommy, my love. From now on, you will call me Daddy every time we are together. Understand, baby?" *That fucking nickname was so provocative for you.*

“Understood, Daddy." you obeyed, smiling a little, looking adorable, like a sweet, innocent girl. His sweet, innocent girl.

"That's what I like to hear, pretty baby." He said proudly with a slight smile, placing a kiss on your belly. He gently grabbed the hem of your shorts, and without asking you -since he knew you would say yes- he lowered your garment, leaving you in your panties.

"So cute, so innocent." He whispered softly, lightly caressing your pussy through the cotton fabric. He admired how you looked so sweet and innocent in just your panties, below him, in his total control. Your breathing hitched a little as you felt his fingers there, biting your lips gently. "Don't be shy, pretty baby." He teased, grabbing your hips. "There will be many more moments to come where I will see you like this." He calmed you down, using his soft, pretty words.

You calmed down at his touch, although you did get a little nervous. He continued with his work, playing with your covered cunt, smiling a little. He liked to tease you, watching you squirm and moan like a needy kitten. He was just touching you a little to test the waters and then start with what he had planned.

While he touched you, he felt how you became wetter and how your moans increased, and he decided to leave you. "Do you want it now, pretty baby?" He asked you with a wicked smile on his lips, looking at you as you heard the sound of his belt unbuckling.

You were a little dizzy by his fingers, but you still nodded softly, letting him finally take you. You felt him rise again, making you able to look at his face. You saw how he took off his shirt, throwing it on the floor, showing his naked and perfect torso, with scratches and tattoos. He smiled as he noticed your gaze. "Do you like it, little girl? This is yours now, you can look at it as many times as you want." He whispered, as he took off his pants.

He was totally naked now, showing off his large erection. He stroked it a little, while he continued looking at your little body, licking his lips and thinking a lot of scenarios with you.

"You're driving me crazy, baby..."

He approached you, letting his tip just touch your entrance, feeling you gasp and close your eyes. His cock was big, and you expected it to hurt. "I'm going in now, okay? It's going to hurt a little, but you'll get used to it, baby." He murmured. Gently, he gave the first push, causing only the tip to enter. You moaned, grabbing the bed sheets and biting your lip.

"Good, baby... you'll get used to it." He whispered, giving you gentle caresses on your hip to soothe your pain.

You felt him start to go deeper and deeper, making you close your eyes and moan, feeling full when everything finally entered. "It's big..." you whispered softly. He laughed softly. "It is, but you just need to stretch out to enjoy it."

After a few seconds, he started to move. Going out a little and going in again, all slowly and gently so as not to hurt you. You felt those pushes like the sky, closing your eyes and moaning slightly, opening your little mouth. He enjoyed your countenance, watching you like his movements.

“I'm going to go a little faster, little girl..." he warned, before giving you a kiss on your neck. Now, his movements began to be faster and more concise, crashing his pelvis against yours, filling you so well. He heard your moans and saw how you squirmed, making him smile. Meanwhile, he whispered nice words in your ear, caressing your breasts with one hand and holding your hip with the other.

"Such a good girl, taking Daddy's cock so well. Who thought you were a virgin, huh, baby?" He whispered, slamming his hips precisely against yours, giving you more and more pleasure.

You were so dizzy, feeling how his fat cock filled you and made you feel so good. You smiled like a fool at his whispers, and moaned uncontrollably. You felt like his movements were too much, and that the knot in your stomach was already going to explode. Thomas knew you were going to come, and he smiled. "Cum for Daddy, little girl. Do it, do it for your daddy." He whispered in your ear, making his thrusts even stronger as he felt like he was going to cum too.

"Would you like Daddy to leave his cum in you, pretty baby? For Daddy to fill you with his essence?" You nodded, moaning softly. Soon, you felt your legs shake, his cock thrust too hard, and your knot exploded. You moaned loudly, letting your liquid come out. You also heard Thomas' grunt in your ear, and his cum filling you.

"Good little girl... you were a good baby, you know that?" He whispered in your ear, as he pulled out of you and let his liquids mix and come out of your entrance together, creating an image worth seeing. "Look at that... it's perfect, baby."

He noticed that you were tired from what happened. He took you in his arms and laid down gently next to you, holding you close to his body. He enjoyed having you so much, watching you moan and pant for him. It made him feel like a king.

"Sleep, pretty baby... you deserve a rest after being a good girl for Daddy..." he whispered in your ear. He planted a soft kiss on your little head, stroking your hair and letting you fall asleep.

You fell asleep like a baby in his strong, comfortable arms, dreaming about him. This was definitely your best birthday.

#cillian murphy #cillian x fem!reader #smut #cillian murphy fic #cillian murphy x y/n #cillian murphy x reader #fanfic #thomas shelby #thomas shelby x reader #tommy shelby #thomas shelby x y/n #thomas shelby fanfic #thomas shelby smut #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby smut #peaky blinders fic

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becauseicantthinkwritings · 2 days

Text

To Love and To Cherish (II)

Part 10 of my Accidentally on Purpose Series!

Warnings: CNC, oral (f), knife play (he fucks her with the hilt of his knife), bondage, threats, chasing, creepy phonecalls, mild mirror sex, somnophilia, anxiety, fear, angst, cliffhanger.

A/N: Please keep in mind that though this is dark play, everything has been discussed and even practised in advance and is fully consensual.

Hehe

@icannotbetrustedalone 😘

A late lunch is brought to your door after you wake up. You have no idea how Sam knew you were awake, perhaps she'd timed your jet lag that well.

She tells you to enjoy, that her team will be here around dusk to get you dressed for your date.

You smile at that word, knowing that she had no real clue what your husband was really up to.

Later in the day, there’s a knock on your door.

You open it to Sam, with her binder, looking eager.

“Are you ready?” She asks with a smile.

When you nod and open the door wider, she turns her head and nods too, and you blink in surprise when four other women follow her into your room with a lot of different things in hand.

You spot a garment bag, and a makeup kit, another bag has a hair curler sticking out.

They introduce themselves, their specialties are in hairstyles, makeup and nails.

You're out of your depth and you say so, glancing over at Sam for some kind of help.

“Don't worry, we already know what to do based off your preferences.” She explains, “You just have to sit back and enjoy being pampered.”

You guess you could try.

When they're done, you're surprised to see so much of yourself there.

There's a lovely little tiara on your head, your hair in a delicate updo with strands framing your face. The dress- is beyond beautiful, white shimmering fabric, an off shoulder design that makes you feel like a princess.

Your fingers and toes are freshly done in a dark red like you'd requested, so that they can match the red on your lips.

There's a small heel on your silver shoes- safe to run in while still being pretty.

“You guys are amazing.” You say in wonder as you fully assess yourself.

They laugh, happy that you're satisfied.

Sam presents one final thing to you, the one odd thing you'd asked for that wasn't in your binder.

You grin at her, ducking into the ensuite bathroom and tugging the garter out of the box, sliding it on.

There's a small knife attached to it, and you make sure it's concealed, and easily reachable through the slit in your dress before you step out again.

When they’re finished with some last minute makeup retouches, Sam smiles proudly, and wishes you a very good night, letting you know that they’ll all be leaving you soon, here alone with your husband.

You can’t help the excited pulse your nether regions give at the reminder, dressed pristinely from head to toe, all for Billy to tear off.

You grin at Sam, walking the small group of women to the door, listening quietly to their plans for the night, encouraging and enjoying their banter, sending them off with a wave into a car waiting for them.

The heavy wooden door closes with a dull sound that echoes through the castle, emphasising your desolation.

You turn, leaning against the door in your shimmery dress, taking in the quiet silence of the place.

There’s a little bit of fear tingling down your spine, the feeling of being truly alone in such a big place, not really knowing where you are, with no means of escape.

You find that it turns you on.

All dressed up, all for him, and you can’t even really leave, a headiness to the realisation, your fear is an aphrodisiac all on its own.

You bite down on the corner of your lip, smiling, pushing yourself away from the door, and decidedly picking a direction to begin your exploration.

You touch everything you see, trailing your freshly done fingertips over every item, examining the feel, appreciating the textures.

The curtains, the lighting fixtures, you examine all of it, a crown on your head that makes you almost feel like you own it all.

You get into the fantasy he’s weaved, becoming the role of the princess he’s cast you in.

You find the throne room first, a flourish of plum and golds, a large red carpet leading to the thrones in question- two- sitting side by side, beckoning you closer.

You squint, looking up at the massive chandelier that sits in the middle of the room, with little pieces of glass that if cleaned properly, would probably reflect little shards of light.

You pick the chair on the right, and settle yourself onto it, sighing happily at how comfortable it is, relaxing for a moment, before standing to continue your exploration.

You’re passing the dining room when a phone begins to ring in the distance.

It sends a shiver of fear over you, the dated sound echoing through the halls. You begin searching for it, following the rings of what you assume is an old era phone.

You find the phone on a table at the bottom of the staircase, ruby red, sitting beside a marble statue of a woman, posed with her hand in the air as if to block the light from her eyes.

It keeps ringing until you tentatively pick it up, bringing it to your ear.

“Hello?” You say softly into it.

There’s a voice on the other end, modulated to be unrecognizeable to you, but even that sends a shiver of excitement through you.

“Princess.” The voice says calmly.

You swallow.

“Who is this?”

The voice is deep, each grovel is a tremor in your body.

“I’m just a nightmare, sweetheart. I hope you’re ready for me.”

You shudder, shaking your head.

“Ready for what?”

He doesn’t answer your question.

“You look gorgeous. Prettier than I expected. It’s making me… want.”

You stiffen, taking a breath and looking around, searching the shadows for some sign of a man, lurking in the darkness.

“You can see me?” You ask in a soft whisper, laying the fear on thickly.

“Of course, princess. I’ll be inside soon, we’ll get a nice, long introduction to each other.”

You gasp in surprise, dropping the phone and moving quickly to the doors you passed during your exploration, making sure that they’re locked.

Your hand is on the door separating the kitchen from the gardens- when the lights go out.

You hear your own breath of surprise, your heart pattering in your chest, real fear being awakened inside of you when you realise that this is actually happening.

Everything is still, you’re afraid to move, the darkness becoming honey thick all around you.

Eventually, being still is too much, and you have to force your body to break the stillness around you.

There’s barely a sliver of light, the moon, casting pale streams through the windows. Instinct tells you to stay where you can see, your body backed against the window, eyes peering into the darkness as if it’s alive and coming for you.

You glance down when something shimmery catches your eye, gasping, you realise that the moonlight makes you a bigger target, your dress reflecting its beams in every direction.

It leaves you no choice but to step into the darkness.

You wonder where he is, if hands will just reach out and grab you at any given moment.

It makes your stomach tight, that what you’ve been yearning for is almost within reach.

“Hello?” You call out shyly, voice shaking just a little. You walk softly out of the kitchen, one hand against the wall to guide you, unsure of exactly where you’re going.

Suddenly, a chill runs over the back of your neck, like a soft breath from someone standing just behind you. You turn, waving your hand into the darkness, and finding nothing but air.

You feel so much like prey in that moment, searching for a predator with hunting skills beyond your comprehension.

You’re passing the dining room when your heart freezes in your chest. In the corner of your eye, you can see the silhouette of a dark figure, standing in the moonlit window.

Your breath halts in your throat, turning to face him, the swishing of your dress is louder in your ears.

The mask is- terrifying- white, with the appearance of fractured glass across it, some pieces missing over the cheek area, his real face peeking through.

He raises a hand, and presses a gloved finger to the mouth of the mask.

You turn, and run.

Fuck, this was it, it was really happening. He was here, and he was going to do all the things he promised he would, all the things you’d practised together so that he was sure you were always one hundred percent safe and comfortable.

You’re not very fast, the dress and heels slowing you down

He grabs you at the very moment the lights flick on.

It takes a moment for your eyes to get adjusted, and then you gasp when your back is slammed to a wooden wall behind you, the intricate carvings pressing uncomfortably to your spine.

His hands are on your shoulders, keeping you in place as you look up at him with fear in your eyes.

You finally get a chance to see him fully, all masked up, covered from head to toe in what can only be the most mouth watering look on the planet.

Sure, his suits were divine, but seeing him dressed down like this was a cherry on top of a malevolent cake.

It clings to his skin, the cut of his chest and arms showing through the tight, long- sleeved shirt, tucked neatly into a pair of navy combat pants, and further into boots.

It’s much easier to note where you can see his skin- on his wrists between the sleeve and the glove, his neck, and parts of his face that show through the fractured pieces of his mask.

He’s a work of devastating art, lust incarnate, bringing forth so much delight that you struggle to hide it.

“Please,” you whisper shakily, getting into character, feeling it spark arousal, “Don't hurt me.”

You watch the darkness clouds his eyes, a predator, hidden beneath layers of humanity, finally being set free.

“Oh, princess,” he whispers, leaning in, trailing his gloved thumb over your jaw and cheekbone lovingly, “I am definitely going to hurt you.”

You gasp at his words, reaching for the weapon strapped to your thigh. It was your turn to give him a surprise.

The dagger is sharp, you made sure of it, wanted it to be real, you wanted to see a genuine look of surprise in his eyes when you finally pressed it to his neck.

Except, he doesn't look surprised at all.

“Leave.” You say, with so much command in your voice that you almost believe you have the power to say something like that to him.

He studies you for a lengthy moment, before he tilts his head back and lets out a deep laugh, and even that, works to seduce you.

His hold is an iron grip on your wrist, and it was a mistake letting him grab you, he’s too strong, and no matter how hard you struggle, you can’t get your hand back.

“This knife is pathetic, princess.” He grabs the hilt, twisting it so that you’re forced to release it or have your wrist twisted too, it clatters loudly in the empty space.

“Is that all you have to fight me off with? No wonder this is so easy.”

You exhale angrily, trying to push him away, your freshly done nails digging into his arms.

He grips your hands, pulling them above your head and pinning them there with one of his.

A soft sound of distress leaves your lips, struggling to get away but your dress is too much of a hindrance, keeping your legs pressed in one place when he moves closer.

“Here, why don’t I show you mine?” He murmurs, reaching with his free hand to pull a significantly larger knife out of his boot.

You gulp, eyeing it wearily as he rubs the handle roughly against your cheek, the hilt is coated in a rubber, with indents to help with grip. He slides it around till it’s pressed to your lips, smearing your lipstick, you angle your head away to avoid it.

“I’m going to fuck you with this,” He promises, leaning in till the mouth of his mask is on your ear, “Gonna use it to get you ready for my cock.”

“No.” you murmur weakly.

“No?” He teases, “Well why don’t you try stopping me then?” He murmurs, pulling back a little to free you from his hold.

You’re surprised to be free, knowing that it’s just a trick, knowing that he wants to chase you.

You keep your eyes on his form, watching him observe you as you slowly back away.

“Go on, princess,” He says in such a condescending tone that your knees wobble, “Run away from me.”

When you're far enough away that you know he won't grab you, you turn, pulling your skirts up a little so that you can run.

Heart pounding in your chest you have no idea where you're going or what your plan is beyond running away. You couldn't very well hide in a dress that glimmers when you breathe, you couldn't fight- all you really had in your arsenal was your capacity to get him angrier.

With that in mind, you grab the first heavy thing you can find- the telephone directory- turning and chucking it in his approximate vicinity.

It doesn't slow him down at all, because he grabs your wrist in the next second, pulling you into him.

“No!” You exclaim, swiping your nails across his mask, knocking it askew so that he can't see.

You’re not proud of how hard you stomp his foot next, watching him double over with a low grunt, allowing you to get some distance.

The phone, you decide, angling your run to get you to the base of the main stairs.

You just make it to the phone- grabbing the glossy handset and raising it to your ear- before he grabs it roughly from you, reaching behind to rip all the important wires out of the back.

You almost can’t do it, wanting to drop to your knees right there and beg him to take you- but you know that deep down you had to see this fantasy fully play out.

He’s angry now, and he shows it by grabbing the entire phone and slamming it to the floor while you watch, backing away in horror, his sleek boot slamming the broken pieces until it’s nothing but ruby shards.

“Who were you going to call, princess? You don’t even know where you are.”

Jesus, you think, helplessly aroused.

The next time you turn away, he wraps an arm around your waist and picks you up.

You kick your feet in protest, scratching at his arms, trying to pry his iron grip off of you but it’s no help, you grunt, and you kick and you wriggle and still he drags your body wherever.

He drops you below the chandelier of the throne room.

It glitters in your eyes as you try to catch your bearings, sitting up you watch him grab a length of rope from his belt.

You try to scramble back but your dress catches under your feet, making you slip, falling back even more.

He grips one of your wrists while you’re disoriented, and you feel the rope wrap tightly around it. You try to push him off, but he just catches your other hand, wrapping them securely in front of you, knotting them easily.

He stands, and with a strong arm, throws the other end of the rope through a support rung of the chandelier, catching it as it swings toward him.

Then, he pulls, forcing you up onto your knees, your hands suspended in the air, as he moves to secure the rope to the throne nearby.

You struggle, trying to tug your way out, your legs tangled in your dress, stopping you from standing.

“I wouldn’t.” He warns softly, “Pull too hard and it might fall, carving up that pretty body before I’m done.”

He kneels beside you, brushing some of your hair out of your face.

“That would make me, real upset.” He breathes through the mask.

“P-lease.” You beg, turning your head to look at him, relaxing when you realise there was no escaping without hurting yourself.

“God, you're so pretty.” He trails a gloved hand over your cheek, down your chest, the leather is smooth on your skin, you shiver when his hand reaches the top of your dress.

“I almost don't want to hurt you.” his hand smooths over the front of the dress, slipping lower to gently untangle the skirts from your legs, you adjust to let him do so, thinking that it will allow you to stand up.

You turn your head to look at him, examining his eyes through the mask, the way they linger on your body, you don’t even realise what’s been done until you feel his gloved hand slip under your panties and press right to your clit.

The friction is delicious, the smooth leather providing an interesting feel between your thighs. You look down, realising he’s used the high slit of your dress to get under your skirts easily.

“Don’t.” You beg, trying to inch away, “Please.”

“I don’t fucking care what you want, princess.” He grits out harshly, his finger pressing down more firmly, slipping from side to side, the pleasure, trying to force you to shut down your resistance.

“I’m here to steal from you, and I’m going to take everything I want.”

Your breaths become shallow when his finger starts circling your aching bud, you’ve been denying yourself for so long that you feel the sweet burn of pleasure the longer he does it.

You can even feel how wet you are, in the fluidness of his movements. He breathes into your ear, and you find yourself leaning into him to take the weight off of your knees.

“Don’t do this,” You murmur weakly, “Please I’ll do anything.”

He laughs in your ear, slowing his movements to torment you.

“I’m doing you a favour, sweetheart, you should be grateful. At least I have the decency to let you cum before I fuck you with my knife.”

You make a sound of protest, angling away from him.

“No!” You cry.

He doesn’t let you move far, gripping the back of your head, till it’s tilted back, hands suspended above you, his fingers resume their fast movement on your clit.

He’s dextrous, even with gloves on, you can feel the micromovements that succeed in bringing you right up to that edge even faster.

Your eyes roll back in your head, surprised that he’s got you right on edge so soon, though you know you shouldn’t be, this is your husband after all, he knows exactly how to get you off.

The weeks of denial burn, your body not accustomed to orgasm needs an extra push getting there, he presses down even firmer, speeding up.

You groan, unable to stop it, or resist it, your stomach clenched tight with nothing in sight but the precipice of orgasm.

Don’t stop, you beg internally, please don’t stop.

It’s a hollow thing, but strong nonetheless. You breathe shallowly through gritted teeth as you reach your peak, thighs trembling, as you rut yourself helplessly on his gloved fingers.

Too good, needing just a little bit more, thighs sticky with your orgasm, his fingers growing even more messy as you come.

Your vision whites out for a moment, senses evaporating temporarily, you come back to the sound of your own panting, heavy in the room.

You don’t get a chance to look over at him with desperate eyes, he pulls his hand from between your thighs and promptly shoves his drenched fingers into your mouth.

You hum in protest, trying to pull away, but he’s still got that iron grip on the back of your head.

“Taste that slutty little cunt, princess. Remember how wet you get for me when you’re begging me to stop later.”

You can only grunt your denial, with his fingers in your mouth, the taste of leather and your arousal making its point on your tongue.

When he draws his hand back, they come out with heavy strings of saliva that cling to your bottom lip.

“You’ll pay for this.” You whisper hoarsely, your head hanging low. Your arms start to ache a little from the way they’re held above your head.

It’s the wrong thing to say, he grips your hair once more, tugging your head back to an almost uncomfortable position.

“What was that?”

You make a little sound at the way he manhandles you, tilting your head, you look him in the face.

“I said, ‘You'll pay for this.”

He studies you slowly, you watch his eyes flicker as he studies your face. You curl your hands into fists, hoping he lets you down soon.

His laughter doesn't surprise you, but it does make your stomach twist.

“Yeah? Who’s gonna make me pay? You?” He says between small sounds of amusement, reaching back, he pulls the knife from before out of his pocket.

You eye it warily, as he brings the blade up to your line of sight, you swallow, trying to breathe as you examine the wicked edge of the serrated blade.

You go perfectly still when the cool metal of the blade touches your cheek.

“You might be a pretty little thing, but you have no power to make me pay. You’re all mine to do what I want. You can’t stop me.”

You whine pitifully, knowing that his words were true.

He reaches up, cutting the rope and guiding your hands into your lap. By now, they tingle, almost numb but not quite, you sigh in relief, watching him quietly squeeze your arms.

“Don’t be scared,” He says, surprisingly soft for someone who was just running the sharp edge of a knife over your cheek, “I'm sure you'll learn to love taking my cock. Maybe with time, you'll beg me for it.”

“Go to hell.” You utter with as much venom as you can muster.

Behind the mask, you hear his laugh, watching the way he lowers his hand, flipping the knife around so that the hilt points toward you.

You lean away, your dress glittering as you move, feeble bound arms raising to push his hand back as he draws closer.

You don’t get far in stopping him, and in the next moment, you feel the hilt of his blade pressed between your thighs.

Fuck, this was too good.

Your head tips back in bliss, torn between fighting him and begging him to just take you in any way he wanted.

Your husband, the man you loved with almost every atom in your body.

“Don’t fucking touch me.” You whisper on a shaky breath, turning to look at him.

Behind the mask, he huffs, the hand in your hair wraps neatly around your throat.

Pulling you close, looking into your eyes, you can hear his angry breaths behind his mask.

He wriggles the hilt of his knife against your cunt, pleasure swelling in your head at the very touch.

He stands suddenly, sheathing his knife, grips your arm to haul you up. Your legs wobble, almost giving out beneath you before he’s wrapping his hands around your hips to lift you.

With your hands tied together, there’s nothing more you can do than wiggle, shifting your body this way and that, but he doesn’t say a word, dropping you onto one of the thrones in the next moment.

He grabs the rope that's tied to the throne- the one that had been used to pull you onto your knees just moments before- and uses it to secure each hand to either side of you.

You kick your foot out at him, and he simply grabs your ankle, gloved hand trailing up to your thigh for a moment before he bends your knee, pulling your leg over the arm of the throne, and securing your ankle to a point somewhere between the base and the foot that you can't really see.

From there, it's over for you, your other foot is caught just as swiftly, and the next thing you know, you’re tied securely to the throne with your legs opened wide, draped across the arms of the intricately carved seat.

He's silent for a moment, appreciating his work, you tug at the restraints to further reinforce his satisfaction that you can't move.

“Damn. You look like a work of art.”

You frown up at him.

He leans over you, and you finally understand the versatility he has with you in this position. He could fuck your cunt, or your mouth, or even your breasts if he so wanted and you couldn't do a damn thing.

He grips your jaw with one hand, tilting your head up, coming closer, pressing a knee into the open space between your thighs for balance. When he gets close enough, he covers your eyes, and the next thing you feel is his mouth on yours.

It gives you butterflies, the way he presses in firmly, taking with his mouth, his beard scratching softly at your chin and lips. You hum against his mouth, feeling his hold on your jaw tighten for a second before he's shoving his tongue past your lips.

Like he owns you, his kiss consumes your senses, your bound fingers curling into little fists as you enjoy kissing him for a few moments more.

Before you bite down harshly on his tongue.

He pulls away in a split second, back to you as he presses his hand to his mouth. You grin in victory as he tugs the mask sitting on his head back down to his face before turning to face you angrily.

He's slow when he approaches, predatory with his long legs and his cocky attitude.

He drops to one knee in front of you, tilts his head, leaning in.

You hear the loud thud of his hand slamming into the space beside your head long before you've registered what's happened.

It makes you flinch in surprise, despite the fact that he'd practised it with you before. It seems way more sinister now, with his masked persona feeling like a different person altogether.

Naturally, the fear spinning inside of you, only succeeds in making you more aroused.

“You're such a brat, I almost want to fuck you right now with no prep.” He presses his thumb between your spread legs, ambling slowly over your clothed clit, “I bet I'd make that little cunt cry with how much I stretch her.”

You suck in a slow breath.

“Please don't.”

He pulls his knife out again.

“You don’t really have a choice.” He answers, carefully angling the cool blade between the seam of your panties.

“Don’t move, little girl, or I might accidentally hurt you- on purpose.” He teases, tugging the knife toward him so that your panties are cut through with zero effort.

You sigh in relief when your cunt is finally exposed to the cool air, sticky with arousal, you groan when he tugs your undergarment free.

“Look at that weepy little hole princess- fuck- she’s so empty, isn’t she?”

“Noo” You hum softly, clenching around nothing as he studies your most delicate area.

He moves slowly, almost reverent in his actions, notching the tip of his hilt against your entrance, you feel your lungs seize as the pleasure hits you.

You hiss when he presses in, the ridged hilt stretching you open, not as big as his cock, but certainly larger than his fingers.

You take it as best as you can, relaxing, eyes watering with an abundance of pleasure.

He tilts his head, makes a single click of his tongue.

“She’s so greedy,” He says breathlessly, “Look at that.” He sinks more of the hilt in.

You bite your lip, moaning when he pulls slowly out, pushing in again.

He starts slow, moving softly until you can take all of the hilt. He grips the blade, you wonder if the glove protects him from the sharp edge.

You want to say his name, but he hasn’t given it, so you settle for sniffling, your bottom lip wobbling wetly as he takes his time.

“Stop.” You mewl, trying to stay in character, looking at his masked face, watching his dark eyes look back.

“No, sweetheart,” He says evenly, “I’m going to play with you, until I’m done.”

You suck in a deep breath, holding it.

He quickens his pace just a little, and before you know it, your cunt has locked tight around the hilt of his knife, every blunted ridge of it being imprinted into your head as you see stars.

It’s unexpected, you hadn’t meant to cum, your body jerking helplessly against the restraints, you pant, unable to see straight for a few moments.

You gulp in air, coming back to your senses. He waits patiently for your orgasm to subside, your body to relax before he works the hilt out of your eager cunt.

“You’re so pretty when you do that.” He says, tucking his knife back into his belt, studying you for a moment before reaching up to shove two of his fingers past your lips.

You can’t go anywhere, simply forced to feel him carefully push and pull his fingers in and out of your mouth, the weight on your tongue encouraging your brain to surrender to him.

When he determines his fingers are wet enough, he glides them down your chest, and tugs at the front of your dress.

It takes a little work before his thumb and index find your pert nipple.

A breath of air leaves you, and your back arches involuntarily, begging for more of his touch.

“You like it, huh? Kinda pathetic.”

“Rot in- f- hell.” You grunt, eyes rolling back as pleasure swims in your head from the way he takes his time to play with your nipples.

You feel his hand, drag over your stomach as he chuckles, the rushing sound as he disturbs the fabric of your skirts. Deft fingers rub circles into your inner thigh before a lone finger slips under the silky elastic garter that was holding your little knife.

You watch him assess you, bound arms and spread thighs and his masked face tilts as his eyes meet your centre.

“So pretty.” He mumbles, before he leans in, lifts his mask to the top of his head and lays a gentle lick to the seam of your cunt.

You gasp in surprise, unable to see his face with the mask atop his head, all you can do is feel- the way he licks gently at you, softly, the need burning white hot with each moment he teases. His tongue trails up to your clit, offers you a preview of the pleasure he can give, before placing slow swipes of his tongue over you.

You sigh, the fight leaves your limbs, you feel like jelly above him, with a tongue that can only be described as godly.

There’s no way you can continue fighting past this, his tongue pulls obedience from you, compliance, it makes you willing and eager to let him do whatever he wanted, helpless for your perfect husband.

You let out a slow moan, head tipping back, thighs trembling with the way his tongue moves, gliding over your clit, showing you exactly what he was capable of without ever actually giving you anything.

“Please,” You simper, unable to resist, with the tongue of such a dextrous man working on you.

If he wants to ask you about where your fight went, he doesn’t bother, merely laughing into your heated cunt, the fractures of his pale mask staring back at you.

Almost there, your fingers curl tight, nails pressed to the flesh of your palms as your breathing hastens.

There’s a rushing in your head, pressure all over, threatening to make you burst apart.

You’re not sure if he knows or cares, his mask moving slightly when his head does, when his tongue, the raving appendage it is, delves through you.

Faster and yet faster, slippery tongue gliding over you, aimed at your oversensitive bundle of nerves, delicate movements of his tongue that are going to unravel you.

His beard rough against your thighs, a wet smacking sound, warm air brushing over you as he exhales, the reminder that he's there, enjoying his time on his knees, unwilling to stop until you've hit that peak.

He presses in closer, his grip on your thighs tightening, firm in their reminder that he’s there- as if you could forget. Your body shakes, soft whines leave your throat, his tongue harsher on your clit.

“I-” You try to say, but your body decides that you’ve spoken enough, you bite down on your bottom lip, every muscle in your body pulled tight.

The first thing you do when your orgasm hits, is tremble.

A sweet fire erupts inside of you, an insurmountable amount of pleasure spreading over you. Your breathing is harsh, heaving, his soft tongue licks you through it, gentle now and soothing between your thighs, no doubt drinking deep of your orgasm.

You press your hips into his face, unable to stop yourself, and he rewards the movement with more careful touches of his tongue.

The rope holding your arms and legs down chafes slightly, protesting your movement, and after a minute, you slump into the chair, boneless and sated.

Your breathing remains harsh, lips wet from being trapped between your teeth, your face is hot, you can feel each time the blood reaches your cheeks, each time your heart contracts in your chest.

You can't hold yourself up and you know it. If you weren't tied up you'd be in a boneless pile.

“Not bad, princess.” He says, warm breath on your thighs. He raises his body to be in your line of sight, the mask still covering his face.

You feel your nipples tingle, excitement stiffening them as he hovers above you.

He tilts his head to study you, his gloved finger tapping the tip of your nose, sliding down to your parted lips.

“You look real pretty when you come. Your mouth opens and your eyes roll back sometimes- makes me want to do it again and again so I can memorise the way you look.”

It's hard to respond, brain hazy with post-orgasmic bliss, but you have to- you need to.

“Please,” You whisper, “You're not the first man to make me come, and you won't be the last.”

You know you're in real trouble when his hand wraps around your throat.

Your eyes widen, he squeezes hard for a moment, which only succeeds in filling your brain with mindless pleasure. You don't bother trying to breathe, waiting till his grip loosens to take a small breath.

“If you think,” He grunts angrily, leaning in till he hovers over you, “that another man is ever going to touch you, you're more delusional than I thought, princess.”

You can only make a small grunt of protest, gazing angrily up at him.

“And maybe I can't control who touched you before I met you, but I can still gift you their heads.”

It makes your breath stutter in shock.

He releases your throat, pressing the tip of his gloved finger to your bottom lip.

“Tug this off. I want to really touch you now.”

You hold his eyes while your teeth sink into the tip of his glove, biting down on his finger too. He pulls down, dislodging his finger from the glove. You release it, and repeat the process with all five of his fingers, and finally, when they're all loose, you clamp your teeth down on the middle finger of his glove and he pulls his hand free easily.

It smears your lipstick no doubt, and you probably look quite messy by now, no doubt your hair is askew as well.

He reaches down after he makes you help with his other glove, and you hear the slow drag of his zipper. Nothing has ever sounded so euphoric.

You look up at him with wide eyes to find that he's already looking at you.

His eyes terrify you, so much darkness in them, you wonder how you'd never seen it before.

“Don't do this.” You beg, startling when you feel his hot cock brush your inner thigh.

At the same time, the main lights flicker off, only the small auxiliary lights on the walls glow softly.

The darkness in his eyes grow, until it becomes an extension of the room.

“Just breathe, princess, this is going to hurt.”

It does at first.

Even though you've come three times so far, and he's used the hilt of his knife on you, and also his tongue to help further your wetness, his size still pinches.

It's been a while, and you feel it in the way he stretches you open, going slow because he knows he's not an easy man to take.

But God, he feels so good.

The pain comes with double the pleasure, that makes your eyes roll back in your head, bound hands curling into fists, nails digging into your palm in an attempt to process the feeling.

He pushes the tip of his cock in, works carefully to fill you, slows down when he encounters resistance.

You take a shallow breath, coming back to your senses a little, looking up at him as he works himself into you.

He rocks his hips, encouraging your body to feel him, to welcome him in, and you have no control over it, surrendering to him easily.

He's so deep you feel it in your throat, a shuddering mess as he bottoms out, you feel tears spring to your eyes, a fullness you've been craving.

Your lips tremble, watery vision glued to the mask, you couldn't look away if you wanted to.

“Should I stop?” He asks, a minuscule tremor of his voice that gives away that he's not as unaffected as he seems.

You can't say the words, the lie too big to be voiced, but you want to keep playing despite how desperately you need him.

You bite down on your bottom lip, nodding softly.

He blinks behind the mask, a tilt of his head to study you.

Arms braced on either side of you, he leans in till the mask touches your cheek.

“That's too bad.” He murmurs.

Then, he draws out, before pressing into you once more.

You make a small sound, and then another when he does it again, the slow drag of his cock is torture, but that's the best part.

You whine, unable to speak, or voice your frustrations, but he chuckles above you, already knowing that he's not giving you what you need.

It's slow, so fucking slow and yet deep enough to create spots of black in your vision.

He grunts above you, and the sound goes right down to your cunt, clamping around him for a second before releasing.

“Fuck.” He growls, “You're so tight. I'm going to love coming in you.”

This was it, time to be the best actress possible.

“N-no, you can't! I'm- I'm not-”

His laugh is so dark it sends shivers down your spine.

Deep and low, devastatingly malicious.

“I can’t?” He teases.

You shake your head no quickly, eyes wide in shock and fear.

He pauses his slow movements to look down at you, too enraptured to focus on two things at once.

“Who’s going to stop me, princess? You?”

You struggle against your bindings helplessly.

“It's okay, we both know you'll learn to like it.”

With those words, he resumes his slow pace.

It's not fair, barely realistic you've never had an orgasm creep up on you like this.

You don't understand, his cock is moving slow, and yet all your pleasure spots are sparking. Is it his size? Or maybe he just knows your body so well that he can force an orgasm so sweet out of you that it almost hurts.

But you can feel every spark, every short circuit of your brain, your toes curl, and your back stiffens, and the dangerous man above you draws it out, wringing each drop of pleasure before moving to the next.

“Perfect.” He whispers, almost sounding out of breath, and when your chest begins to burn, he delivers one harsh thrust of his cock that makes you topple like a house of cards.

A moan leaves your mouth on every other breath, unable to control your vocalisations, or even your breathing, clamped so tightly around him that he makes a low grunt before you feel him spill inside of you. It makes it that much better, knowing that he's hit his peak at the same time you have.

You come back to your senses slowly, his mask coming into focus.

Each breath eases the burning pleasure, replacing it with sweet euphoria, a drug like never before.

He’s panting too, trembling a little, no doubt struggling to stay upright after his first orgasm in six weeks.

And here you are, about to taunt him for it.

“Is that it?” You ask softly.

You’re a little unprepared for the way his eyes scald you.

“Is my cunt that good?” You continue to tease.

He closes his eyes, takes a slow breath to calm himself.

When he looks at you again, you know you're in a lot of trouble.

He leans away, reaches for his knife before slowly cutting the ropes free from around your ankles.

You hiss when he frees your arms, noticing that there's the impression of the rope on your wrists, you rub them as you right your legs, moving them from their previously spread state.

He watches you, and you do the same warily.

“Stand up.”

You gulp, pushing yourself onto wobbly legs, you sway for a moment, before looking over at him expectantly.

He’s still wearing the mask, but by now you’re aching to see his face, you wanted to see your husband while he did these wicked things to you.

He tilts his head toward the door, and your eyes follow the motion, not understanding until he speaks.

“Get out.”

Your head swivels back to him.

“Go, before I change my mind.”

This was another game, you realise, you’d made him mad, and he was going to show you exactly how helpless you were.

You back away, like always, keeping your eyes on his. You can feel his cum, smearing the inside of your thighs as you move. It only makes you more aroused.

You smooth your dress out anxiously, looking down at the shimmery material, and then back up at him, slowly backing away until you’re far enough that he won’t grab you from behind.

When you make it to the door, he’s still standing where he was, looking at you in the dimly lit room.

You can feel your heart in your throat with the fear of everything around you, a sinister ambience, the thrill of being chased.

Outside is dim as well.

The main lights are off. All you have to go on are the smaller lights along the walls.

You don’t get too far from the throne room before all the auxiliary lights flicker off as well.

The darkness squeezes at your heart, a shiver going down your spine. Your eyes struggle to adjust to the distinct nothingness.

The room is still, quiet around you but you can feel him everywhere. It’s like he’s the darkness surrounding you, touching your skin, depriving you of everything except himself.

It’s why you’re not surprised when you feel him at your back.

His hand reaches around, grips your throat and uses the leverage to pull you back. He isn’t gentle, squeezing at the sides harshly to ensure you’re paying attention to him, as if you could ever be distracted.

His bare hand, warm, coarse, thumb and middle finger pressed to either side of your neck. You go lightheaded at the sensation.

You feel his nose press into your hair, his lips ghosting over the shell of your ear and you realise he’s taken his mask off.

“I change my mind.” He whispers darkly, laughs when you struggle.

You pull out of his grip, and you run as fast as your legs can take you.

He doesn’t chase, and you make it a good distance away, tucking your body behind a wall to catch your breath. You don’t know where you are, but you assume it’s somewhere near the front doors. The pins in your hair are uncomfortable, and you take your time tugging the little tiara out of your hair, dropping it to the floor.

You can feel his cum, making an even bigger mess, and the implications of that only succeed in heightening your arousal.

The sound of his knife, dragging against the wooden panels on the walls catch your attention. You lift your head, a tug of desire pulls below your navel.

“You know, the first time I met you, really met you, I couldn't believe you were real.” He says, his voice carrying through the quiet hallway.

“You looked at me, and you listened, and all I could think about was how to get you alone, away from that useless boyfriend of yours.”

Your lips part, head pressed to the wall, eager to hear his words, your heart drumming in your chest.

“And when you left me that night, I went back to my lonely apartment, and I found out everything I could about you. I didn’t sleep. I needed to find something to hate- something that would help me stop obsessing over a girl I’d met one time.”

His voice gets closer and you know you have to move, or else he was going to find you.

Quietly, you kick your shoes off, abandoning them so that your steps can be quieter, you lift your skirts slowly, trying to stop the swishing sound it makes.

“You know what I found? Nothing. Nothing could make me hate you, nothing could stop what you started when you smiled at me, all of it made me want you.”

Your heart hammers even more with his words.

“And while I was trying to come up with a plan to make you mine, I’d been yours for ages.”

You stop, turning to his voice as he says that last part, wanting to go to him, to hold him, to tell him the secret you’d been keeping for weeks- that you were his too.

“Don’t fret too much about it though, princess. There’s no need to worry, I’ll feel all better once you come on my cock.”

You gasp, backing away, one hand behind you to stop you from bumping into anything. He was absolutely insane in the best way.

You can’t see a damn thing, feeling your way around to find the entrance you’d come through, your breathing is loud in your ears, you’re sure he can hear you.

You were conflicted. You wanted to run towards the scary man hiding in the darkness, though you know it would be worth your while to run away.

“You want me so bad?” You taunt into the darkness, “You’ll have to catch me first.”

Skirts in hand, you follow the first light you see- the moonlight streaming through the kitchen windows, the feel of the carpet runner helps you move in a straight line, and the next thing you know is that you’re at the foot of the stairs.

You look back, trying to make shapes out of the darkness, but there’s nothing there, you turn and begin your ascent.

You don’t know where he is, he could be two feet or two inches behind you and you wouldn’t know.

Your body is warm from the adrenaline, the dress constricts your breathing.

You stop for a second time when you find what you think is a tea room.

There’s a large wooden table sitting in front of an equally large window, the moonlight streaming in allows you to see that there’s a wall of mirrors on one side of the room. On the other side, is a smaller round table with a porcelain teapot, and other matching dishes.

“Surprise.” He says from right behind you, and you swear your heart jumps right out of your chest.

Before you can turn to look at him, your cheek is pressed to the large table, one hand behind your neck, the other pulls your skirts up.

When he has your ass exposed, his hand comes down hard on your soft flesh. You cry out.

“That’s for all your mouthing back.” He grunts, before spanking you again.

It hurts, stings so sweetly, you try to rise but his hand is firm on the spot between your neck and shoulder.

When he’s satisfied, he reaches down between your legs.

He clicks his tongue, his fingers swiping through the mess between your thighs.

“Look at the mess you made. Don't you have any kind of consideration for how hard I worked to put my cum in you?”

You feel him move, you assume to take his cock out. Your suspicions are confirmed when you feel him kick your legs wider, pressing his tip to your entrance.

You mewl helplessly when he enters you.

Stretched once more, he feels bigger in this position, his pace is harsh, fucking into you meaningfully, your eyes roll back in your head, spit slipping from past your lips as your face is kept pressed to the table.

You feel a sharp tug and your dress loosens, too pleasure drunk to figure out why.

The glide of his cock quells your urge to fight, your body sparking, electrified at the feeling of him.

He pulls you upwards, and the front of the dress sags, exposing your front to the air.

“Look at us.” He growls into your ear, turning your head to the mirror, you see your bodies reflecting back. Him, in his tight shirt and open pants, you with your beautiful shimmering dress caught between your bodies and hanging off your shoulders. It’s the first time for the night that you see his face, and your eyes are locked on how handsome he looks, hair askew, filling you with his magnificent erection.

He’d cut the back of your dress, you realise absentmindedly, your full breasts on display for him because of that, a small sound leaving your chest as he enters you again.

“We’re perfect together.” He acknowledges, you internally agree.

He presses his lips to your shoulder, meeting your eyes in the mirror, his teeth flashing for a second before he bites you.

You cry out, the sweet burn of it only succeeds in making you want him more and more.

He doesn’t stop when you come, only slows for a moment to help you catch your breath before he continues.

“All mine now, princess.” He affirms, his hips slapping against yours, filling you till your vision blurs.

Deeper than ever, you feel his cock press securely to your cervix, eager to have him fill you with his cum.

You take a shuddering breath, so close to another orgasm, unable to think about anything with the way he feels.

Your nails claw at the table, willing your body to take him, your perfect husband, giving you just what you need. He groans above you, enjoying you almost as much as you enjoy him.

The pleasure builds, swimming in your head, worsening with each move of his cock inside of you. He holds nothing back, all of his energy is focused on filling you as hard and as fast as he can, leaving nothing behind but hot, near blistering, rapture.

You cry out when you come, body shuddering, a loud roaring in your head. He grunts loudly, following you over the edge, filling you with even more of his hot cum.

After a moment, he draws out of you, helping you stand, he gently pulls your dress off, discarding it on the ground, he reaches to scoop your swaying body into his arms.

You’re sated, unable to lift your head. You feel him rest you gently on a soft, cool bed.

The sheets are amazing on your overstimulated skin, and you peek your eyes open to watch him pull his tight fitting shirt over his head.

In the low light, your eyes find his tattoo, you smile softly as it ripples, watching him kick his shoes and pants off too, until he’s hovering above you, naked.

“You’re so gorgeous.” You whisper dreamily, raising a hand to press it to his cheek.

He lets out an air of amusement, he reaches around, gripping one of your legs to wrap it around his hip.

“Only the best for you, princess.” He hums, before you feel him push his cock into you once more.

You fall asleep to him fucking you, your adrenaline crashes after countless orgasms, and before you know it you’re out. You wake a few hours later to find him inside you once more.

You moan his name, your body still eager and receptive to him, having craved this side of him for so long.

“Messy pile of wife.” He grunts into your ear mid-thrust, “Just like I promised.”

There’s so much of his cum slipping out, you can feel it, you can’t wait for him to top you up with more.

He kisses your cheek, licks a stripe through the tears slipping from the corner of your eyes.

“Cum for me. One more time, baby.”

You gasp, nodding, head filled with cotton, floating in the clouds, lost in his essence.

You blink hazily after you feel the smooth metal plug slip in, soothing you with its coolness, arousing you with the reminder that he’s filled you to the brim.

You’re pressed against him, his hand wrapped securely around you. He stretches to reach something on the bedside table.

You’re almost asleep when you feel him slip your ring back onto your finger.

It makes you complete, eases any lingering worry.

“I love you, Billy.” You murmur, before you finally let sleep take you.

It wakes him up.

He blinks in shock, turning to look at you.

You’ve already fallen asleep, breaths even with your left hand pressed to his chest.

Had you really just said what he thinks you just said?

He considers shaking you awake, desperate to hear you say it again. To tell him what he’s been dreaming of for years.

What if it was a mistake? His mind asks.

His stomach drops.

What if you didn’t really mean it?

He swears he breaks his own heart in the moments after you say those four words.

He stays awake for a while, trying to memorise your words, the way you said them, the way they made him feel. He tries to learn the hour and the minute and the position of the moon in the sky at the very moment the words left your mouth.

He wonders if he’ll ever hear them again, wonders if this would be the only time in his life that you say these words to him.

If this is all he gets, he decides he’s going to cherish it.

“I love you too.” He whispers, with everything he has.

You’re curled up against him the next morning having breakfast when you finally take the time to examine your ring.

Your body is sore, having been fucked thoroughly, but you were a little proud to see the litany of scratches over the expanse of Billy’s back. You weren’t the only one marked last night.

You raise your hand to offer him a piece of your buttered croissant, he eagerly takes a bite.

“My ring looks the same. What did you change?” You ask, reaching for more jam.

“The inside.” He says with his mouth full.

You smile, pulling it off your finger to see what’s there. On the silver surface on the inside, you can see something engraved. At first you think it’s words, but as you bring the ring closer to your face you realise it’s numbers.

“I’m still confused.” You state.

He makes a little hum, having just swallowed his food.

“If you go to my bank, and show them this ring, and give them your fingerprint, you can withdraw from any of my personal accounts.”

You blink, your eyebrows drawing together.

After a moment you give him a confused look.

He chuckles, reaching up to cup your face, his thumbs smoothing over your tense eyebrows, encouraging them to relax.

“Any amount, little wife, any time.” He elaborates.

You blink in shock.

He was… giving you access to his money?

“Is that safe?” You ask warily.

“Planning to take all my money?” He teases.

“No! But- what if someone steals the ring… or… kidnaps me and forces me to take it?”

“That will never happen.” He promises, his fingers tightening on your cheek to reinforce his words, “As long as I’m breathing, and even if I’m not, you will always be safe.”

“You can’t stop breathing,” You fight back, leaning in to wrap your arms around him, “I won’t let you.” The words are muffled against his shirt.

He laughs.

“Noted.”

He grunts, his fingers curling over yours as they grip the back of the soft couch.

“Hold on.” He commands, just as he slides his amazing cock into your body.

You make a soft sound of delight, tipping your head back to rest on his chest. He groans into your ear, fucking up into you slowly and thoroughly.

His skin is hot, having spent the morning of the second day exploring the gardens outside, only to come back in and ravish you on the sitting room couch.

His left hand drops down, thick fingers find your swollen clit.

“Sing for me. Let me hear you, wife.”

You whine, the sensation of his fingers rolling over your clit makes your legs shake.

“Gonna take my cum like a good girl?” He grovels in your ear.

You bite down on your bottom lip, nodding, seeing stars as he rubs your clit with more fervour.

“Fucking perfect.” He moans, and the words go right to your cunt, setting you off.

He growls in your ear when you clench around him, it only makes your orgasm last that much longer, eager to have him cum, you roll your hips on his cock.

It succeeds in working him into a frenzy, and you’re face down, with your ass in the air in the next moment.

He licks your slit harshly before his cock slides right back in, moving faster, his hips set a brutal pace, your next orgasm is like a gunshot.

He falls beside you after he comes, out of breath with a dopey grin on his face.

“What is it?” You ask curiously.

“Nothing really,” He gasps, “I just feel really fucking good.”

You smile shyly, leaning up to kiss him.

You’re whisking eggs for french toast when his arms wrap around you.

He presses his nose into your hair, breathing in your soft smell.

“Morning.” He grovels into your ear, feels your body shiver.

“Hello Mister Russo. Sleep okay?’

He chuckles, remembering the feel of your lips around his cock as he came last night. Fuck, you were delightfully insatiable.

“Like a rock,” He confirms, “Join me for a bath?”

“Yeah,” You agree, “Let me finish this batch and I’ll be right there.”

“Don’t keep me waiting, little wife.” He whispers as he pulls back, reaches for an apple sitting in the basket nearby, taking a slow bite.

“I won’t. Love you.” You say absentmindedly.

Billy stops.

He turns to stare at your back in shock. You continue moving as if you haven’t said anything strange.

“What was that?” He asks.

You raise your head to glance at him.

“I’ll be right there.”

“No, the last part.”

You blink, a look of confusion on your face.

“I… love you?”

The room goes still, the only sound is the french toast as it sizzles.

“You love me?” He asks, his heart getting heavier and lighter at an alarming rate.

“Yeah? I-I said it to you on our first night. You- you said it back.”

He did remember saying it back.

“I thought you said it accidentally.”

You pause, reaching to turn the stove off, before facing him.

“You thought my tongue slipped and I told you I loved you without meaning it?”

Billy swallows.

“I thought the number of orgasms had gotten to your head and you were saying things that might not be totally true.”

Your eyebrows raise in realisation.

“It was true. I’ve been… feeling like that for a while.”

“Like you love me.” He says dumbly.

You nod your head.

“Like I love you.” You confirm.

This wasn’t an outcome Billy had ever seen coming. Sure, he’d been hoping for fondness, that he could give you a comfortable life and you could be content by his side.

But love?

Unthought of.

“Why the fuck would you love me?” He whispers, horrified.

He’d done so many bad things, ruined your life in so many ways.

You take a careful step in his direction.

“What’s not to love? You’re smart, and strong and you go after what you want-”

“-One of those things was you.” He argues.

You laugh. He wasn’t joking.

“Yeah, how I got here wasn’t the best, but, I’m glad I am, and I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.”

He takes a step toward you, and then another, and then his arms are pulling you into a soul crushing hug.

“You love me.” He murmurs into the top of your head.

“Yes,” You reply, holding him just as tightly, “I do.”

“Where are we anyway?” You ask on the fourth night.

He raises his head from between your thighs.

“Europe.” He answers vaguely, before dropping his head to lap gently at your clit once more.

You smile happily, leaning back against the library desk.

“Billy?”

“Mmm?” He hums from between your thighs.

“I love you.”

You feel the breath he lets out before he pulls back.

He kisses you, lips wet with your arousal, a tart taste on your tongue that makes you smile when he pulls away.

“I’ll show you how much I love you.” He mumbles, dropping to his knees once more.

Coming back to his apartment after that had felt surreal.

Like it was all a dream, the fucking best dream you’d ever had.

You’d been given a letter from your mother at the front desk, and you’d happily dropped it to the floor the minute Billy had pulled you into his arms for a slow kiss.

It was… magical, your fingers glazing through his beard, gripping his hair, the next thing you know you’re being lifted and taken to his bedroom.

The fire hadn’t left either of you, burning, sizzling sparks each time you touched, each time you held his hand or kissed his cheek.

He was all over you, inside and out, claiming you in a way you knew deep down would never be done by another.

“My wife.” He groans into your ear when he comes.

You pant, reaching up to kiss him, legs wrapped tightly around his hips to keep him inside of you for as long as possible.

Your husband.

He leaves you in the early morning of the next day. It’s training day and he wants to get there early to get a jump on what he’s missed.

He kisses a path between the valley of your breasts down to your womb before he leaves, dressed in a crisp charcoal suit. You grin happily as you fall back asleep.

Later, when it’s time for you to leave for work, you find that manila envelope your mom had sent you sitting on the kitchen counter. Billy had probably picked it up from the floor where you had left it yesterday when he was leaving for work earlier.

You reach for it after you’re done hopping around to tug your heel on.

It’s unopened, so you take your time peeling it open, wondering what it was. Last time it had been a bunch of recoloured family photos, you assumed this was probably more of the same.

It’s not, it’s a stack of papers. At first, it’s odd things like flyers for bikes, and a bouncy castle rental ad. You flip through, a little concerned that your mother might be losing her mind.

Your face falls when you flip another page, and find what’s really been sent.

SUPREME COURT OF THE STATE OF NEW YORK

You could feel your heart turn to ice.

You see your name printed under Plaintiff, and under Defendant, is Billy’s. Most of your information has been filled out, including your fucking social security number. Most of Billy’s information is missing, only his real name is there.

Then you see it.

‘The grounds for dissolution of the marriage are as follows:’

Divorce papers.

These were divorce papers.

A/N: DON'T HURT ME THANKS

#billy russo #billy russo x reader #accidentally on purpose #accidentally on purpose married billy #billy russo x female reader #my writings #the punisher #billy russo smut #dark!billy russo

86 notes · View notes

thatstupidplant · 2 days

Text

So, I said I wohld have been gone for a while...

But I saw this artpeace by @isjasz (her tumblr) and it became my reason to live

So... Enjoy this oneshot while it last :D

Ps: I wanted to post it on AO3 too, but I don't have an account and I found out there is a FUCKING WAITING LIST, LIKE- WHYYYY I DON'T WANNA WAIT FOR MAY 18TH

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Hotguy looked at at the city from the ceiling, it all looked to peaceful during the night.

He immediately forgot what he was here for though, which was a problem and a very Scar thing to do. But unfortunately he wasn't allowed to be Scar at the moment. His train of though stopped when an arrow almost hit him.

Ah yes, Cuteguy.

Cuteguy wasn't the best one with bow and arrows, he was way better at a close battle, but he was good enough to startle Hotguy when needed. In this moment it was needed.

Hotguy turned around to see who almost made him blind, ready to trasform to atoms whoever attacked him, but his face got painted with a smile as soon as he looked at the slim figure above him, in a near roof trying his best not to die of laughter.

Scaf realized that the painter decorating his face also, accidentally, splashed a little bit of red.

Just a tiny bit, hard to see without the mask and impossible with it.

"Hotguy, wasn't expecting you to be early" the avian figure said while getting closer.

While the pink and white wings made an awfull distraction, the taller hero remembered that Cuteguy had to talk to him about something important

"Why do you think I'd be late? I wouldn't want my darling to wait" The taller hero said while jokingly kissing the other hero's hand.

Until he noticed something.

The mask was normal, his wings were normal, but the outfit was different: Cuteguy usually wore a white and pink attire, which made him the 'opposite' of Hotguy, but today he was wearing black shirt and pants with his jacket. That was his 'hidden' outfit, used when the avian wasn't meant to be seen (it was something Hotguy didn't need as much as Cuteguy because his outfit was already pretty dark)

Hotguy had dark hair, Cuteguy's were light; Hotguy was tall, Cuteguy had the intention to be; Hotguy was flirtous while Cuteguy was...

"Are you listening to me?"

Scar mind said no, but his expression said 'please don't ask me that'

"Oh yeah, totally"

Cuteguy folded his hands. A suspicious expression on his face.

"Then what did I say?"

Yep. He was screwed.

The brunette hero searched is memory, but it was empty.

"Youu... weerreee.... talking about... safety?"

"No."

Fuck

Yes, Hotguy was kind of screwed now.

"Ok, ok, I wasn't listening"

Scar said while moving his hands. Cuteguy slapped his face muttering something similar a 'this idiot', but Scar didn't hear it well.

"I was talking about what the public think of us!"

"And what does the public think of us?"

The avian started to mentally pray God to, please, have a smarter partner. But he started to remember all the time Hotguy had brillant ideas and hated the fact that he was just too innocent to be an adult man.

"The fact that everyone thinks we're dating, Hotguy"

Scar stopped. No, it wasn't Hotguy, it was Scar. The man hid his fear with the flirtuois smile and the confident attitude, but he couldn't lie saying the though of kissing those lips interested him...

'No Scar, you can fuck your collegue'

"And what is we made it true?"

Hotguy started to walk towards Cuteguy, with his sicure composure,a playful smile and an emotion Cuteguy couldn't innitially recognize.

But when the realization came, it made his stomach go upside down. Why did Hoteguy had lust in his eyes? He always joked about kissing him, calling him 'his boyfriend', offering his hand and playful flirting like these.

'Cuteguy' didn't have something to complain about it, but Grian hated how his face would become more and more like the red of his natural wings color.

He started walking back, searching to escape the bumping of his heart. He hit the border of the roof that, fortunately and unfortunately, had a small wall. He sat on the wall and waited. Hotguy stopped right infront of his face, looking in his eyes. Grian made his 'Cuteguy' mask fell off and decided to relax, just relax, even if Hotguy was always clingy it was rare to have him this close so maybe he should have just enjoyed the momeng. His expression calmed down, the sleepyness of the middle of the night appeared.

"So... do you accept my offe-"

Hotguy almost jumped when CUteguy's head landed on his shoulder. If you asked him, he would have said he was completely calm, but his heartrate said something else. Did Cuteguy really fell asleep on him? What was he suppose to do now?

"I'm not asleep, I just want..." Cute guys without continuing and putting his arms behind Hotguy's back.

They both remained there, too scared to scare the moment away by moving. After what we can count as some seconds, but for them seemed hours, Hotguy put his hands on Cuteguy's back making it the best hug Grian recieved in years.

When was the last time he was hugged like this? When was the last time someone cared so much?

They stayed there, waiting for the morning as the sun started rising from behind.

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Author's note:

Idk if I like it or not, maybe I could make a second attempt in the future.

Anygays, gor now this is it, it was a pleasure feeling some Scarian, something that I will do more in the future with a ne-

*COFF COFF*

I MEAN... EH EH... NOTHING!

#scarian #desert duo #oneshot #Hotguy #Cuteguy

84 notes · View notes

beetlejuicyy · 2 days

Text

Corruption (A Blessing for a Curse User) | Geto Suguru x Reader

Summary: Geto Suguru is your last hope when you start seeing curses. But his reason for taking you in is more perverted than he lets you see. Set sometime during those ten years before jjk0

Warnings: manipulation, smut with plot, overstimulation, oral (f! receiving)

Word count: 5,834

Read on AO3

Author's note: i couldn't stop thinking that geto would have canonically used pussy therapy to cope so i had to come up with a plot for it

Masterlist

Your steps halted after reaching the top of the stairs. So many times you wanted to come to the temple, ask for help, thinking, knowing that you had nowhere else to turn to. But you always hesitated, anxiety and shame taking over your mind. But fear prevailed, at last. You went to therapists, they told you it was stress, unresolved childhood trauma. You've never heard of people seeing monsters at lunch time because they had a narcissistic mother. They were everywhere. And they were looking at you, their disgusting sounds echoing in your ears even after running away. You haven't had a good night's sleep in a couple of months. The only rest you had was always in the presence of someone else, scared that the monsters might come for you. What were they? What did they want from you?

You had reached your limit last night. You went out with some friends, thinking a large company would help. But it was worse. So many, so different, so disgusting. Those monsters were everywhere, on people's shoulders, hiding behind the corner of a building, on the counter at the grocery store. You ran home, away from the crowded neighbourhood, took a cold shower and decided you couldn't delay it anymore. Otherwise you would go completely insane.

You had to see Geto Suguru.

It was right before sunrise, when the darkness of the night was melting into brighter shades of blue, the fresh air of morning filling your lungs, encouraging you to move forward. You doubted anyone was there so early in the morning. You were determined to wait, in any case. You wrapped your fingers around the cold golden surface of the handle, hitting it lightly against the tall door. Behind, the tip of the sun was slowly creeping up, engulfing the world in a warm orange light.

"Good morning, miss early bird." You heard a gleeful voice.

Turning back, you noticed a tall, long haired man dressed in the traditional monk attire. His lips were curled up in a smile, although it lacked any warmth.

"I-I'm sorry to bother." You quickly apologized, trying to control your stuttering voice. "I-I know it's early but... uhm I am here for... I have a problem... I mean I want to talk to-" Maybe the sleepless nights were taking their toll on your concentration.

"I am Geto Suguru." The man said, his hands hidden away under the flowing sleeves of his kesa. "Come inside, I believe it is me you're looking for."

You nodded, following him inside. All the stories you heard from people who seeked out Geto's help were similar. He was kind and jovial, with a well developed, and borderline offensive, sense of humour for a monk. He helped everyone. But there was something off about him, you heard that often. Contrary to his gentle smile, people felt in danger in his presence, some describing it as a sensation of imminent death. You were feeling all of those things right now, as you walked one step behind him. Geto looked like he was coming from somewhere, not that he had just woken up to open the temple. You walked into an empty room, the only noticeable decoration being the three scrolls hanging on the wall.

Death to the Fool

Punishment to the Weak

Love to the Strong

Your steps froze in the middle of the room while Geto walked over, sitting down on the floor with the scrolls framing his head as he leaned his head to rest on his palm. The word weak blinded you for a moment and you couldn't concentrate on anything else but the thought that you were indeed weak. A fool? You weren't quite sure. Strong? Clearly not. You fitted perfectly into the weak category. You wondered if these were the principles of the man in front of you, a drop of sweat falling along your neck. You've never heard of these words used for any other temple. But you weren't the religious type anyway.

"Miss early bird?" You heard Geto's voice get louder and you realized you must have not heard him calling you before. You blinked, confused, introducing yourself.

"I think I'm going crazy." was the first thing you blurted out after your name. You didn't have the time to prepare a speech or rehearse anything. You let out whatever you felt first and Geto laughed, a mocking but harmless laugh that you couldn't blame. "I started seeing these weird monsters. Everywhere. Next to people. On the street. Some are even talking to me." Geto's attitude changed, his eyebrows raised in surprise. "I don't know how to get rid of them. Nobody else sees them. I don't even know if they are real."

"When did you start seeing these monsters?" He asked, his eyes paying more attention to your form now. It was faint, almost unnoticeable, but he could sense your cursed energy.

"A few months ago. Around the time I moved to the city. I'm from a small mountain village." You looked at Geto, your only hope, as he pondered on your fate. His silence made you more nervous with every passing second. More desperate. You didn't think you could bear to walk out on your own and see those monsters again. You would rather die.

Death to the Fool

Were you a fool?

"I want to be strong!" You yelled out as tears filled your eyes. "Please, please, please I don't ever want to see those things ever again!" You begged, falling on your knees. You were definitely weak. You sobbed in silence, not even noticing when Geto sat up and walked over to you. Your break down helped him make a decision it seemed. He crouched down in front of you, pulling your hands away from your face with his slender fingers.

"Miss early bird." He said as he wiped your tears away. You wanted to correct him, remind him that you had introduced yourself already, but his soft voice left you speechless. A softness, different from the previously dissimulated one, coated his words like a sweet ointment on your open wounds. "Do you know where these monsters come from?" You looked at him, eyes empty and confused, shaking your head. "They come from filthy monkeys." You frowned. Was he making fun of your suffering? "If you get rid of the cause, the effect would naturally disappear, don't you think?"

"Get rid of monkeys?" You asked, aware of the fact that, if he really was making fun of you, it was already unavoidable.

"A figure of speech." He threw his hands in the air, in a helpless gesture. "The things you're seeing are curses, miss early bird. And they are born out of humans that cannot control cursed energy." You would have snapped for sure at his reluctance to refer to you by name if his following words didn't make your eyes open wide in shock, unable to register the information you just received.

"So... I'm not going crazy?" You whispered, almost scared to say it out loud.

"You said you don't want to see curses again." His voice changed to a serious tone by the time your tears ran dry. "The only solution is getting rid of their cause. Monkeys." He spat out the last word with such spite that it had you jolt back in surprise.

"But I'm a human too..." You mumbled, finding this small error of logic in his story fatal.

"No, no." He waved a long, slim finger in front of your face like a toddler. "You have cursed energy. I can help you control it."

He sat up, gathering the the folds of his traditional robe. You looked up at him, one of his arms extended towards you, his palm just above your head.

"Do you want to help me kill all the monkeys, miss early bird?"

Out of all the people in Geto's inner circle, you clearly stood out as the weakest, dumbest and most useless. At least this is how you felt. His found family was, if you had to pick one word, peculiar. But even more peculiar than that was your very presence amongst them. You didn't have any basics, didn't even know this world existed until you begged Geto for help. He must run out of patience at some point, you thought. But everyday he found even the smallest moments to give you some insight or reevaluate your progress so far.

Geto Suguru was a proud man. After all, he was leading a cult. Your desperation hit a very sensitive spot inside him that he wasn't even aware existed. Something about your crying face, so pretty despite your agony, gave him the satisfaction of being your saviour. The feeling caught him by surprise as well. Usually, people begging him for help disgusted him. However, he took a lot of pleasure out of teaching you everything, starting with the most obvious things. Your eyes fixed on him, taking in his every word, so well behaved, so eager to make him proud.

It was a completely different feeling from taking care of Nanako and Mimiko. His care for them came from a genuine concern, an honest wish to defend the people like him, wronged by the unfair world. With you, his protection and guidance came from a more perverted part of his soul. A part that he ignored for long, uninterested in trivial matters like this.

He enjoyed having all the answers for your questions. He enjoyed solving your problems, being the person you depended on. He was teaching you how to be strong, yes, but he also enjoyed knowing he would always be above you, no matter what. Something about your lack of pride, your straightforward questions, your awe in response to his knowledge and strenght, everything about you rubbed him the right way.

"Tell me again about your village, miss early bird." Three months later and he still insisted on not using your name. You were convinced he had to know it, he simply found it amusing to use this silly nickname. It didn't bother you anymore.

"It's very peaceful." You said as you poured Geto some tea. After you found out about his unpleasant technique, you made it your daily task to offer him some consolation in order to make up for the nauseating taste of curses he absorbed. "People are very close to nature, it brings a lot of peace to the soul." The tea you were preparing for him had calming properties, besides the floral mild taste. "There are no natural calamities and no thieves. People learned to take what they need from nature and share it with the community. The wi-fi signal is shitty, though." You joked and he smiled before taking a sip.

You found yourself fall for that smile. It was quite inevitable, if you really put some thought into it. He was so kind, so gentle, so generous, so patient with you. Not to mention his handsome face. Soon, you started wishing you could see more of what was hiding under his attire. You quickly learned how to distinguish between the subtle undertones of his smile. Maybe you were delusional, but you never saw him smile to other people like he smiled for you.

"Sounds like a nice place." That's what he would always say. You guessed the idea of your boring home village was some kind if utopia for him. No wonder you never saw curses before. They didn't exist there.

"Why did you leave?" It was the first time he asked. He was usually more interested in the way the community worked, how people avoided conflicts, how secluded the place was or how many modern things were absent there.

"I had no future there." He nodded, understading your perfectly valid point.

"Would you go back?" He asked, his eyes already searching the answer in your wavering gaze.

"Only to visit." You answered. He already guessed that from the sad look on your face as you remembered about your home.

"Make sure you take me too some time."

You gradually grew closer to everyone else. The dedication of Geto's followers was quite impressive and it only made you want to compete even more fervently for his favours. You quickly realized that the basic martial arts you learned as a kid held more importance than you initially thought. Sometimes Geto would challenge you, only to have you immobilized humiliatingly fast. But thirty seconds turned to one full minute, then two, then five. The more you trained your body, the longer you were able to face him. And the longer you lasted, the more satisfying became the moment when he had both your wrists behind your back in a tight grip, his other hand in your hair while his weight pressed your body firmly on the ground. You've never noticed him paying time and energy with anyone's training, let alone enjoy defeating them as much.

"Gotcha, miss early bird." He would whisper in your ear and you would unsuccessfully try to resist, to break free of his grip, which only made him laugh and hold you tighter. "You'd be dead by now."

When he would finally move away, you would find yourself wishing he remained longer, althought the strain in your shoulders and the pressure of his weight were painful.

"Ten minutes, that's a new record." Geto would praise you when checking the timer. You thought your heart was about to explode out of your chest when he slipped the robe off his shoulders, groaning in the scorching sun of noon. "You've got me sweating, good job."

You were still laying on the ground, rolled on your back, watching his tall figure tower over you. The sun was behind him, like a halo around his head crowned with messy raven hair that fell down to his waist. You couldn't see his face clearly, the light behind him too strong, blinding you. But what you could see was the shape of his body, the round and sharp turns that shaped the contour of his silhouette. His broad shoulders, his fit arms, his slim waist and muscular abdomen right above the band of his baloon pants. In that moment, he looked otherwordly to you. A light in your brain was switched on and you completely understood why people gathered around him, why they pledged allegiance to his cause, why he was worthy of worship. You were left speechless, on the ground, at his feet. He had all the rights to step over you, punish you. Compared to him, you would always be weak, insignificant.

Geto noticed your awe. It was only the two of you, no one else in sight. He pretended not to, but the corner of his mouth was curled in a patronizing grin. All the light of day was reflected on your body, sweaty and gasping for air after only ten minutes of facing him. How pathetic. And yet, your weakness didn't trigger repugnance or malice. Your helpless attempts to fight back, fully aware that it was futile, delighted him. Especially now, when your eyes sparkled in the sun, pupils dilated in veneration, your presence was so unbearably arousing to the point that all the blood seemed to flow into his cock.

"I looked into your fairy tale village." Geto finally said. You would have never stood up from the ground, willing to witness his greatness for the rest of your life. "There's a very high chance you have inherited a special cursed technique." You blinked several times, like trying to get rid of a haze covering your eyes. You sat up, your previously high ponytail only a tangled mess now.

"I don't understand." How could you be so shamelessly blunt? If he were in your shoes, Geto would be embarrassed to admit his lack of knowledge so easily. But in front of him, you bluntly and carelessly showed your most innocent and pure self, like a clueless lamb unaware of the coming slaughter.

"Remote villages are common but yours seemes to have the best of both worlds. No greed, no crime, no hatred yet it's fairly modern and economically thriving."

As the words left his lips he realized that maybe this was the very reason you trusted him so easily, laid all your flaws in front of him so he could pick and choose which way to build you up. You hardly ever went through hardships in life. You learned to trust the people around you. Consequently, seeing curses for the first time was probably the worst thing that had happened to you. You were so untained by the unfair world. So untouched. So easily breakable. You were a blank canvas of innocence with plently of space for him to paint any sinful whim residing in his soul.

"Turns out you're a descendant of an old clan of sorcerers who abandoned the old ways of jujutsu a few hundred years ago. Most were exterminated, the surviving never found."

You parted your lips in an attempt to protest but not sound came out of your mouth. Insead, an astonished expression fell over your face, as you watched Geto sit back down on the ground, a couple of steps away from you.

"You've never seen curses because jujutsu sorcerers don't produce curses. And your tiny mountain village was made up of exclusively descendants of this clan. It may be dormant, but your legacy is still there."

Geto's dark eyes shimmered with a violet shade in the sun, contrasting with his long dark locks that fell over his shoulders, absorbing all the light.

"Isn't it... the world you want to create?" You asked unsure, feeling like he was a teacher testing you. One wrong answer and you could fail the class.

"A scaled-down version, yes." He agreed.

Your eyes uncontrollably fell down his body, watching how his chest softly rose and fell as he breathed, how toned his arms were, how inviting his posture was. You felt a primal urge to crawl up to him, touch him, provoke him. And you did. Gathering your remaining strength, you closed the distance between your bodies. He stood there, unmoved, his eyes looking down at your smaller body, like a hunter watching his prey. Except that his prey was walking right into his jaws, so close. Now, the words death to the fool made perfect sense. A faint breeze of air brushed over both of you, so weak that only the ends of his hair fluttered in the air, grazing against your skin.

"Geto-sama." You said, closer to a whisper, afraid that the wind might carry your words for others to hear. "I believe I was born to serve you."

The stronger you became, the closer you got to Geto. Or perhaps it was the other way around. Needless to say, the toll his cursed technique was taking on his body and, more importantly, on his mind was painful to witness. There were times when he would keep the distance, isolating himself so his vulnerable side would remain unknown. A couple of days later he would come back to his usual self, as if nothing happened. Everyone was used to this rare occurence, respecting his space and his choices. After all, who were they to question master Geto's actions? But it always bothered you.

Whenever the sickening taste of curses would become overwhelming and his entire soul would feel like an abandoned landfill, Geto would try to find comfort and pleasure in distractions that could help him cope, keep him one step away from the edge until he would rebuild his strength again. Soon enough, such a distraction was the thought of you, or, to be more specific, the thought of things he would do to you. The idea of corrupting those innocent, honest eyes which trusted him too much. He was almost sure you've never been with a man before, and this detail only made the thought of tainting you with his touch even more pleasing. Geto's soul was damned to be the abyss that trapped curses while yours was so empty, so peaceful, so quiet. Perhaps this was the only thin string of common sense that held him back from unleashing all his urges upon you. If he did bring ruin to your serenity, what was left for him to cling to? Everything you knew about the world, about jujutsu, it was all throgh his lens. Your convictions, your ideals, your motivation they were all his. Your loyalty to him was unbreakable, but wasn't it really his merit? If he did, after all, choose to ravage the holy garden and taste the fruit, wouldn't it also destroy the unsullied image of him in your eyes?

These thoughts were harder to resist whenever you cluelessly insisted on being next to Geto even when he pushed you away. You were knocking at his locked door, telling him you prepared some tea.

The tea is fucking useless.

The real medicine for his nerves, for his fatigue, for his dark thoughts was you. Only you. He would drink all the tea in the world just to have you sitting next to him, talking about nothing in particular. Geto used to think that your relationship dynamic is unchangeable. He was playing god, building the world around you, while you cluelessly looked up to him, not guessing even a fraction of his thoughts or intentions. He was superior in every sense. Then why did he feel so vulnerable when you knocked on his door, spoke his name so respectfully? Why was it so hard for him to control himself, send you away like all the times before?

Maybe this was what addiction felt like. Or was that tea really poisonous? Alone in his dark room, only a dim light creeping in from outside, Geto realized that maybe the dynamic you had changed. He changed. You gave him small bites of your presence, quick sips of your warmth every day until he found himself addicted. How could he send you away when you were the last remedy he could use to cope?

"Geto-sama?" You asked again when no sound came from inside his room.

"Come in." His voice was languid, reverberating in your brain like a lustful invitation. No, he was feeling sick. You were too caught up in your own desires while he was having a hard time.

His room was dark, unlike the brightly lighted hallway. It took a moment for your eyes to adjust to the change, but the first thing you noticed was the mass of long hair shining in the dim light. It was so captivating how in the bright light of the sun it was a dark shade absorbing everything, while in the soft night light it was almost glimmering, so luscious and silky.

"I don't feel like drinking tea tonight." His voice filled the room, soft and vulnerable, and it almost made you think he was hurt. So you put down the tray on the floor, your eyes still unable to spot the table exactly, and hurried to his side, to the light coming in through the window.

"Are you alright, Geto-sama?" You asked, voice full of worry, as you placed a hand flat on his forehead. His hair was beautifully unkempt and you pushed some strands away to see his face better. But as soon as he raised his eyes to look at you a shiver ran down your spine and you took your hand away swiftly.

He successfully tricked you. Contrary to his frail voice and his lethargic posture on the bed, his eyes were sharp, full of energy and piercing right through you. You felt threatened, although it was the same Geto you admired and served, the same Geto who taught you how to fight curses, how to defend yourself. But how could you defend yourself from him?

"I'm sorry if my presence is not as neat as you're used to." He said. He was still wearing the usual kesa and you wondered how much of his identity really resided in the religious facade. You wanted to see past that.

"Are you in pain?" You asked. He looked like a wounded animal, one that could still do you harm even in this state.

"Yes." He said, but nothing about the way he looked at you seemed to signal that he was in need of help. Instead, he was luring you in.

"How does it feel?" You slowly approached him again and sat down by his side. His back was resting against the wall and he watched you with a certain amused look. How foolish could you be?

"Like you felt when you first came to me." Geto answered, his eyes glued to yours. "Only that all those curses are inside me."

"Is this why you helped me?"

It was painfully ironic how, despite of how smart he thought he was, you delivered the answer so effortlessly.

"For the most part, yeah." He admitted. The rest of the reason was blatantly reflected in his eyes that were eating you alive as he spoke.

"Let me help you." You breathed out, without thinking. There was no logical reasoning in your brain. You natutally felt it in your body that you had what he wanted and you wanted to give it to him. "If I could take only a fraction of your torment away it would be worth it."

"How would you do that?" He asked, noticing how you leaned in and your hand touched his in a seemingly platonic attempt to comfort. But there was nothing platonic about the way you looked at him.

"Show me how curses taste." You breathed out.

For a moment, Geto was taken by surprise by your bluntness. What if you really could feel the sickening taste of curses on his lips? Would it make you turn back in disgust? Would it shatter the perfect image he built for himself inside your mind?

You didn't give him any more time to think. You simply stood up in front of him and pulled at the hems of your shirt, taking it off. Geto's eyes followed your every move in the dark, noticing the round contour of your breasts and the white lace of your bra. All his focus, his control, was gone. He was looking at you wide eyed, his pupils devouring every inch of your body as your fingers unclasped the bra in the front. He felt his mouth water, a primal hunger sparking alive inside his soul when your tits bounced free as you discarded the bra on the floor. You were offering yourself to him like a tribute, like a sacrifice to the gods. His train of thought was broken off, all the confusion and tumult in his mind completely turned off by the feeling of your lips on top of his. For a moment he remained frozen, the shadow of doubt still lingering, waiting for you to break away in repulsion. But you didn't. Instead, you placed your hand on his cheek, pressing your body closer to his. It was the last hint he needed.

Geto's hungry lips moved along with yours, easily taking control. You moaned in discomfort when his body shifted, pressing you down on the bed in an uncomfortable position, his lips never breaking off from yours. The feeling of his weight on top of you, his hair falling over his shoulders, brushing against your skin felt oddly familiar and, while you struggled to find a more comfortable position under him, you realized it felt just like the times you would fight. It was the same tension, the same blood rushing in your veins in excitement, the same anticipation for what would come next. Except that now you were taking it one step further.

To Geto, right now, you had only one purpose. His pleasure. Altough his hands touched you greedily, your flesh kneaded under his palms so roughly yet so satisfying, and his mouth moved to your neck to suck and bite every spot he found, earning soft moans of pleasure from you, it was all for himself. He was drunk on the taste of you. So desperate to forget everything else, eager to taste only you on his lips, forever. Your flesh was so soft, so sweet, so addicting. You were soaking wet already by the time his tongue ran circles around your sensitive nipple, rubbing your thighs together under your skirt. Both your hands were buried in his hair, pushing it away from his face while he couldn't be bothered with anything else but your flesh. You could also feel it, how selfish, how insatiable he was. Your pleasure was only a fortunate side effect, a convenient occurance. Between soft whimpers and muffled sounds of sucking and licking on your skin, you realized that he didn't care. His chaotic movements, his bites that were getting deeper and deeper everytime he sank his teeth into the soft tissue of your breast, his uncontrollable groans as he devoured you, it was all for himself. You were no different than the curses he was swallowing for later use. He would eat you alive if he could.

By the time he had your skirt pulled up, your panties discarded somewhere in the dark, his teeth grazing against the sensitive skin of your thigh, it was too late. If there was a chance you could stop him before, check on him, try to get him to slow down a little, when his tongue first touched your wet and sensitive core it was already too late.

You gasped for air, your grip on his hair tightening as his tongue ran between your folds, running circles over your throbbing clit. He was eating you out with an aching thirst, sloppy and loudly, the only thing covering the dirty wet sounds of his tongue drenched in your juices being your own moans, significantly louder than before. He had your legs over his shoulders, his arms keeping your legs spread apart while his face was burried between them. He had you arching your back, dark strands of his hair falling from between your trembling fingers as his tongue dived inside you, his nose nuzzling up against your clit.

Your taste, your smell, your everything was numbing all his other senses, his mind blank, asleep, thoughtless. The only thing driving him, dictating every turn of his tongue, every press of his lips was the unquenchable thirst to eat you, consume you. Something inside his blood, his bones, his soul dictated that the pitch black abyss where he kept all the curses he ever swallowed could be obliterated by you.

"So sweet for me."

It didn't take much before his tongue got you close to the edge, your orgasm only a few touches away as your toes curled and your muscles tightened, although his arms kept your legs pushed apart. He didn't care at all if anyone heard your filthy moans or the sound of his name echoing from inside his room. You were loud enough, even louder than ever as you came, the peak of pleasure washing over you.

But soon, pleasure turned to pain as Geto kept the same hungry rhythm, continuing to eat you out with the same determination like he didn't even notice your orgasm.

"So fucking sweet."

He couldn't have missed it, his name reverberating in the silent room like a fervent prayer, your thighs tightening under his touch, your hands pulling at his hair. He didn't care. He was doing it for himself, eating you out for his own pleasure. Moreover, his effort only intesified as you fought to push him away. The more you struggled to get his face away from your overstimulated pussy, the faster his tongue moved. You cried out his name again, this time in pain, begging him to stop. You tried pushing your legs together, fighting to break free. Your hands tried pushing his head away. The back of your heels hit his back, your legs trying to force him away. You begged, implored him to stop as tears rolled down your face. But he had your hips tightly pressed on the mattress, arms forcing your thighs apart. Once again, you felt exactly like the the times he would train you. So easily defeated. So helpless.

"Ge-geto... sa-ah-ma." You begged between cries, your salty tears falling uncontrollably like the first day when you came to him. "No more... ple-please." He pushed one of your legs with his elbows, his palm pressing firmly on your lower belly, forcing your convulsions to stop.

"Shut up or I'll have you chained up." He found the time to growl, even the feeling of his breath against your painfully overstimulated clit making you cry out.

His warning meant nothing compared to your discomfort, but your second orgasm started building up shortly. Your struggle died down and your hands were pulling him closer again, nails digging into his shoulders. A wet pool of your fluids and his saliva mixed together was dripping off your skin on the sheets as your body shook again, more violently than the previous time. He seemed to have had enough, at least for the moment, because he let you go, your legs desperately pressed together as you rolled on your side, whole body trembling, heavy breathing, every cell of your body exploding with raw pleasure.

You didn't know for how much time you simply laid there, your mind hazy from the overstimulation, your body exhausted from both pleasure and pain. It could have been five minutes or as much as the whole night that had passed when you finally became aware of Geto's eyes fixed on your body.

But the thing that really made you snap out of your lifelessness was his voice calling out your name. Your own name, for the first time. Almost as if he learned it only after having your taste left on his lips.

"You're a blessing." Geto breathed out as the strain in his jaw was slowly creeping in. You didn't say anything in return. There was nothing to say to those intoxicated eyes. Those swollen lips still covered in your juices. His tongue ran over them, collecting the last remains of your juices. But the pain in his voice was gone. Although bewildered and curious, he seemed to have regained his energy, rediscovered a reason to live.

Your breath hitched when he leaned over you again, his lips offering soft kisses along your leg, upwards to your hips. He seemed more collected, more in control of his instincts as he put the minimal pressure on your skin with every kiss until he reached your lips again. Your hands pulled at his clothes, the desire to see him naked like he saw you taking over. He chuckled, giving in to your petty efforts.

"Please, Geto-sama." You said. "Let me satisfy your needs."

He smiled, that patronizing smile of satisfaction.

"You can try."

《previous Ascension | next》 Eraser |True Form!Sukuna x Reader Sukuna x Reader

#geto suguru #geto smut #geto suguru smut #jjk geto #jujustu kaisen #geto x reader #geto x you #geto x y/n #suguru geto x reader #suguru geto x you #geto suguru imagines #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen imagines

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skyfallscotland · 15 hours

Text

This somehow takes place both within and outside of BRV at the same time. Because unexplained time travel. That's why. It's also completely unpolished because it's 2am and I don't know what I'm doing here.

intertwining souls (we were never strangers)

In the seconds that have passed since he appeared from the tunnel, restraining my hands behind my back, a slight breeze has picked up, blowing my hair over my shoulder. Fuck. Silver-tipped brown strands float out towards him, as if reaching for his hand the way my heart aches to. I know immediately he’s made the connection. “There’s a very reasonable explanation for this.” I croak, my pulse fluttering with fear as he closes the distance between us, drawing one of his twin swords from his back.

“Oh fuck,” I curse, groaning as I hold my forearm tight against my closed eyelids. The cold texture of Sgaeyl’s scales is soothing against my throbbing temple and I let out a low whimper, rolling onto my side to press my head into the soft grass. “Holy shit.”

“Lía…” I groan aloud, listening for the heavy beat of wings over the buzzing in my ears. I can’t hear any. Did I blow my eardrums out? Carefully, I reach up with my other hand, feeling for any moisture. Nothing. I falter a little upon the realisation that I can hear wings in the distance, but not…here…

“Lía?” I call out, forcing back the bile that rises in my throat. I’d…fallen. I’d fallen and she hadn’t caught me and…she hadn’t followed me down at all. Slowly, I blink my eyes open, the fading sunlight sending a sharp pain rippling through my head. As I sit up, I run a hand over my hair. My braid’s come loose and the silky strands are now fluttering in the slight breeze, meaning I’ve lost the poisoned wire I usually wind through it. There’s no blood though, at least, so it must just be a concussion.

My brow furrows as I close my eyes, reaching. I reach…and reach, but…nothing. A panicked gasp escapes me. There’s nothing there. “Lía!” I call more urgently this time. The sky is empty. No. No, no, no, no. Even the time I’d been dosed with that awful serum I could still feel her there, lurking—as if hidden behind a frosted pane of glass. Now though…it was as if I’d never bonded her in the first place.

Frantically, I look down at my arm, sighing in relief as I see the green dragon relic twisting up and around my bicep, the Daggertail hidden beneath my vambrace. Ok, so we’re still bonded, I just can’t sense her. I don’t think anything could have happened to her—if it had, I’d be dead already—so…what, then?

The last thing I remember is being knocked off her spine from behind. I hadn’t seen it coming in the slightest. We’d been practicing my balance just over the flight field as she took to the sky, so I hadn’t been strapped in. Did she…not have time to catch me? That doesn’t make sense! Even if she hadn’t caught me in time, she’d still be here now—and so would the rest of my squad for that matter, Liam and Deigh were just ahead of me!

Gingerly, I pull myself to my feet, rotating my sore joints. Maybe I was…dreaming? Or I’m in a coma now, because there’s no way I actually fell from the back of my dragon and slammed into the ground without breaking anything.

In the time I’ve been contemplating, the sun has gone down fully and the moon has begun to rise, the entire sky a blanket full of stars. I turn on my heel, determined to get back to my room and find someone—anyone—who can tell me what the fuck is going on, when there’s a slight crack and my head snaps up in the direction of the hidden tunnel linking the field with the academic wing.

For a moment, panic thunders through me and I grip the dagger at my thigh in a closed fist, but then there’s a familiar cool brush against my skin and my spine relaxes. “Xade?�� I call out, a slight frown on my face. “What the hell, it’s Wednesday!” I hiss, storming toward the tunnel. “You should be—”

I’m shoved backward, barely able to keep my balance as I trip over my own feet, shadows restraining me in the dark. “Fuck,” I curse. “That’s not funny.” I snap. “I have a concussion and Lía won’t answer me and I can’t channel so don’t—” He steps into the moonlight and my jaw drops. Malek deliver me. “Xaden?” My voice cracks.

He looks so cold, so closed off I barely even recognise him. It’s been a very, very long time since he looked at me like that, if he ever did. There’s movement at his side and Garrick steps through, followed by…Masen. “Oh gods.” If my hands were free, I’m certain one would be over my mouth right now. My eyes quickly run over their uniforms—cadet’s uniforms—and I realise I’m in big, big trouble. They each have two, small silver stars on the shoulder. Second-years.

“No. No, no, no, no.” I mutter.

“Yes.” He finally speaks, his eyes trailing over my form from head to toe. “And who might you be?” My partner—but not—paces toward me slowly, his lips tilting up viciously as he croons. “You’re wearing rider black and a wingleader’s jacket, but I’ve never seen you—” He pauses, his eyes widening slightly.

“Xaden, please!” I beg, panic muddling my senses. Something furious flickers in his eyes. “Baby, listen to me—” His shadows slip for a split-second as if in surprise and almost simultaneously, the ground shakes, rattling my teeth together. Half a sob escapes my mouth and I turn on my heel and run. I don’t know what makes me think she’s the better option, that she’ll recognise me when my partner, the love of my life doesn’t.

“Sgaeyl!” I yell, boot-covered feet carrying me full-tilt toward her. “Sgaeyl!” His shadows tug at my ankles and I don’t know if it’s a happy accident or if he meant for it to happen, but it means I go flying into the grass just as her teeth snap shut where my head once was. “Are you fucking kidding me?!” I shriek.

“LÍA!” I scream at the top of my lungs. “LÍA!”

“Quiet!” Xaden snaps, his shadows smothering any sound I attempt to get out. “Fucking Sorrengail.” He crouches in the grass, his hand on my throat. “That’s who you are, isn’t it? You’re one of Lilith Sorrengail’s.” I snarl at him, lifting a leg to kick him in the groin, but his shadows catch my shin before I can do any damage.

Gold-flecked onyx eyes stare down at me without an ounce of recognition. “Who’s Lía? Is that your…” Slowly, he stops as if realising for the first time where he’s heard that name before. I stare up at him pleadingly. His hand trails over my arm, tracing the relic at my shoulder. “Lilith Sorrengail’s youngest aren’t old enough to have bonded dragons.” His hand slips down further to the vambrace on my wrist and he picks it up, turning it to face the moonlight. “What the…” He drops it like it burns him.

Hot steam wafts over me and I hold still as a giant blue-scaled snout drops down to sniff at me. “That’s impossible.” Xaden snaps and I almost feel sorry for him as Sgaeyl shoves him backward onto his ass. Almost.

“You…asshole!” I seethe, launching myself forward. I don’t feel even a little bit bad for the crack that sounds through the air as I punch him in the face. Serves him right. I pull my arm back again. “You’re in so much fucking trouble, you hear me! I’m going to—”

A throat clears. “I’m going to have to ask you to stop doing that.” A familiar voice says, tinged with amusement, before adding, “whoever you are.”

I huff. “Shut up Garrick. Buzz off and tell Imogen how you feel.” A choked sound escapes the man beneath me. “I’m not kidding.” I tell him when he doesn’t move. “Take Masen and give us some space. I want you out of hearing distance.”

When I glance up, the older man is gaping. “Who the hell are you? Why would I listen to you?” A warm nudge at my back has me unbalanced for a moment, but I manage to hold my ground, straddling Xaden’s torso.

“Remi Sorrengail.” I tell him, reaching out a hand behind me to press it to Sgaeyl’s maw. “And you’re going to listen to me because it’s in your best interest. Shoo.” He mouths the last word to himself disbelievingly, before his eyes flit over my shoulder at the Blue Daggertail behind me and my hand currently resting above her nose.

“Ok. You’re on your own, brother.” He says succinctly, before turning on his heel and heading for the rocky outcropping they came from. When I look back down, Xaden’s eyes are narrowed and his mouth is downturned and twitching slightly. He’s definitely arguing with Sgaeyl. Impatience not in the least bit tempered by the one hit I’d gotten in, I slip my hand from his shoulder to his jaw and tug, leaning down to claim his lips with mine.

For a moment, he’s still, his body rigid beneath me and I feel something in my chest shrivel and die. Desperately, I pour every ounce of love and fear I have into it, begging, willing his soul to recognise mine. Slowly, tentatively, his lips part. My fingers reach up to tangle in his hair and by the time we part for air, I’m curled over him, my eyes just inches from his own. “Look at me.” I demand, my thumb stroking over his cheekbone before I drop my voice to a low whisper. “Read me.”

He jolts, his eyes widening. It’s…clumsy almost when he reaches out toward me and I realise with an aching heart it’s probably because he hasn’t had much, if any practice at this point. He’s only twenty-two. Holy shit. Patiently, I push a memory to the forefront of my mind—laying in each other’s arms, trading bites of chocolate cake on his favourite hillside in Aretia.

“Holy shit.” He whispers and my lips curve upward.

“Hi.” I murmur quietly, dropping a chaste, gut-wrenching kiss to his lips. “I’m Remi.” My throat tightens as I force back tears. “And one time you told me it was love at first sight. I’m starting to think that you lied.”

He stares.

“I’m sorry.” I whisper, climbing to my feet. “I know this isn’t—that you don’t know me.” I choke out. “But I don’t know what happened and I can’t feel my dragon and I’m scared, Xade.” Slowly, he climbs to his feet and takes a step toward me, closing the gap again.

A hand reaches out to brush my hair behind my ear and a wet chuckle escapes me. I guess some things really don’t change. “Where—when are you from?” He finally asks, his eyes glued to my face.

“Two years from now.” I whisper. “Give or take.” I glance at the two stars on his uniform. “My twin and I—” I pause, my mouth snapping shut.

“Your twin…Violet, right?” I nod, mutely. “Listen, Sorrengail,” he begins and it sounds so strange coming from him that I flinch.

“I don’t know how much I should share.” I blurt. “What if…if this is time travel, then should I be keeping everything to myself? Just in case…” Just in case it changes things. My eyes flit over his shoulder for a second to where Garrick and Masen stand and guilt flares in my chest. I should want to tell him everything, to tell him every detail so he can try and prevent people from getting hurt, but I…I’m selfish. I worry if I do tell him anything further, maybe it will change things and he won’t…love me.

“Are there things you think you should share?” He asks archly and I chuckle, the sound almost hysterical even to my ears.

“You have no idea.” I croak.

His lips tilt up, just slightly. “I think I have some idea.” He says softly. “It must have been a pretty crazy two years for me to end up with a Sorrengail.”

I lift a brow. “Because you could never be cordial with a Sorrengail?” I glare, arching a brow. It takes a moment before it clicks and his mouth forms a small ‘o’. “Yeah, that one was fun to find out after almost dying.”

“You almost died?” He says immediately, his eyes running over me again from head to toe. I shrug, noncommittally. “What can you tell me?” He asks, exasperated and I grin, looking up at him adoringly.

“I love that tick in your jaw, this one right here.” I carefully slide my thumb across it. “I used to be such a common cause of it.”

I’m faced with a deadpan expression. “Somehow, I’m certain you still are.”

I laugh aloud. “Maybe.”

Sgaeyl takes to the sky behind me and I whip around, my eyes following her form as she disappears in the direction of the Vale. “She’s going to get your Lía.” He informs me, his voice low. “To see in person if she knows anything—feels anything from you.”

I shake my head immediately. “I don’t think so. I can’t feel her at all, like she’s not even there. Although…” I trail off contemplatively. “If anyone in the Vale can help, it might be Andarna.”

Xaden’s eyes turn distant for a moment before he focuses back in on me. “Sgaeyl won’t tell me what that means.”

I nod. “She shouldn’t.” I reply simply. She’ll know. I glance over his shoulder once more. “Heading out on a drop?” I ask, noting the bags by Garrick’s feet.

My partner stiffens. “You…”

I smile up at him fondly. “I really wish I could tell you the story of how I found out right now.”

“You could.” He suggests.

“No.” I deny, leaning in to wrap my arms around him. He’s still for a second before slowly, carefully he brushes a hand over my hair, stroking softly. I tuck my face into his neck, breathing him in.

“We’re…serious, then?” He asks and I can feel his free hand tracing over the Riorson family crest on my vambrace.

“Very.” I laugh. “You’re going to marry me one day soon.” When I look up, I’m sure my eyes are bright. “Because I’m the best thing that ever happened to you, not because someone else thought it would be a good idea.”

His lips part slightly. “You know…”

My heart sinks a little. “I know.” I confirm. “Xade?” I lift a hand to his chest, resting it gently over his heart. “Promise me something—don’t go to Cordyn.” I beg. “If they want to renegotiate just tell them no, don’t go there.” I plead.

“Why?” He asks carefully, in that way of his that means he’s hiding something.

“Just…promise me.” I beg. “Or promise me you won’t be alone with her, I just…Xaden.” I hold his gaze, pleading with my eyes.

“Ok.” He relents. “I promise.” I sigh in relief, tension draining out of me as I bury my face in his neck. Maybe it’s selfish, to try and change this and only this, or maybe it won’t make a lick of difference—perhaps whenever this…anomaly is over, I’ll simply go back to my time and he’ll forget ever having met me until that day on the parapet.

But if there’s even a chance I can change it—this one thing that affects no one and nothing but him—I’ll take it. “Thank you.” I murmur, pressing my lips to his throat. When I pull away slightly to meet his gaze again, I let my thumb trail reverently over his lips.

“I love you.” I whisper. “I need you to know that.” I smile sadly at the broken, desperate look in his eyes. “I love you more than anything—anyone—I’ve ever loved or ever will love. There is no me, without you.”

Slowly, he lowers his lips to mine of his own volition and my soul sings.

#basgiath (remi's version)

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mxmmymilkers · 1 day

Text

'just put it in, denki!'

you grumbled in annoyance, your gaze fixated on your best friend, clad in a hello kitty apron with a matching set of oven mitts.

'yeah, you'd like that, wouldn't you-'

the blonde grinned in response to your scowl. you were unbelievably close to smacking him over the head with the cookie tray.

'one job- you have one job to do. put the fucking tray into the fucking oven.'

the two of you had spent the last two hours attempting (and failing miserably) at baking cookies for the upcoming class reunion.

it had been a few years since you graduated. you were convinced some upper deity despised you, because why would you end up keeping regular contact with denki kaminari of all people?

of course, your blatant distaste for the young pro-hero was all for show. you loved him, in one way or another.

'but i'm scared. what if i get burnt?' the blonde whined, jumping up and down in one place in attempt to hype himself up.

he resembled nothing but a toddler at that moment, you thought to yourself.

'i'll kiss it better if you get burnt.' you flipped the tables on him, deciding it was your turn to do the teasing for once.

flirting was nothing unusual in your friendship. neither of you had the balls to take any action beyond that (although it was pretty obvious you both wanted to).

denki's eyes widened. the hello kitty oven mitt went flying off. he was quick to fling the pre-heated oven open, sticking his hand inside.

both you and him screeched at the same time.

'you fucking imbecile! what the fuck is wrong with you?!' you yelped, yanking his shoulders back and pulling him away from the oven.

denki whimpered in pain, clutching his burnt finger close to his chest. his eyes betrayed the amount of pain he was in, but his cheeky smile never left his face.

'i believe i was promised something?'

you stared at him, completely dumbfounded. was he being serious? you knew he was dumb, but was he really that dumb?

'well stop staring and get to it. kissy kiss!' he shoved his now swollen finger in your face, waving it around with a pained grin. his lips puckered up and he made a smooching sound, urging you on.

you blinked once, twice, three times, trying to access the situation.

'you are completely demented. clinically insane. you should be put in a straightjacket.'

you grumbled in defeat, grabbing his hand harshly. your lips pressed softly against his irritated skin, your annoyance more evident than ever.

denki's jaw went slack. he wasn't expecting you to actually play along with his stupid plan.

'now that i think about it, i think my lips are a little scorched too. i'm such a clutz.'

he sighed, shaking his head in feigned disappointment at himself.

you raised your eyebrows, not surprised, but a little taken aback by his boldness. you should've been used to it at this point.

'are you messing around or do you really just want to kiss me that badly?'

you couldn't for the life of you tell if this was playful flirting or something more.

the blonde took a step closer to you, peering down at you with a small smile. 'what do you think?'

he was so close you could feel his breath on your face. you didn't dare look up in fear that your eyes would betray your emotions.

you didn't think about it much, you just stood on the tip of your toes, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips.

even though it was short, you tasted the lingering traces of cookie dough.

'and here i was wondering why we only got 20 cookies out of a 30 batch recipe.'

you teased, not knowing how else to deal with the consequences of your actions.

denki stared at you in disbelief, completely surprised at your sudden boldness. he hadn't actually expected that line to work.

'uhm- uh- okay, yeah-' he stuttered. he didn't think his brain could get any more fried, considering his quirk, but he was obviously wrong.

his jaw hung open for a solid few seconds. he was blinking rapidly, trying to decipher whether or not your were matching his energy or if there was something beyond that.

you shrugged sheepishly, realising your hand was still gripping his.

'don't blame me. after years of flirting, i just couldn't take it anymore.' you loosened your grip on his hand, taking a small step back.

'yeah, but why did you have to go and do that?'

your expression fell slightly.

had you done the wrong thing and fucked up your whole friendship? stupid you, of course he was just messing around. he was your best friend, nothing more, nothing less.

'my bad.'

you cleared your throat, hastily wiping your hands off using a washcloth.

'i think you can finish the cookies by yourself. i'll see you tomorrow at the reunion.' you grabbed your bag from the chair by the kitchen island, trying to hide the dejection in your eyes.

denki still stood in front of the oven, frozen, not sure how to put his thoughts into words.

had he loved your brief display of romantic interest? hell yes! could he do anything but stay still and stare dumbly at you as you left? hell no!

as soon as you had opened the front door of his apartment, he snapped out of his trance, rushing forward in an attempt to catch you before you left.

'wait-' before he could get the word out, you were already out of the apartment, the door slamming shut behind you.

he had reached a whole new level of stupidity.

part 2? 🫨😱🙋‍♀️😹😄

#denki kaminari #mha denki #mha #mha x reader #denki x reader #denki x y/n #gender neutral reader #kaminari x reader #bnha x reader #bnha #my hero academia #my hero academy fanfiction #bnha fanfiction #boku no hero academia

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crilbyte · 1 day

Text

🖤🩶Fallen🩶🖤

~Lucifer x Angel!Reader🪽

Part 1 𖦹 Part 2 𖦹 Part 3 𖦹 Part 4 𖦹 Part 4.5 𖦹 Part 5

Summary: you're an angel who has been tasked as the intermediary between heaven and Lucifer and... Neither of you are what the other expected.

Warnings/promises for series: 18+, smut, first time, teasing, jealousy, no use of y\n, fingering, masturbation, oral (m & f receiving), weird tail stuff, use of the "C" word (both derogatory and not).

Warnings/promises for part 1: 16+, teasing, weird tail stuff, pining, dress up

A special WARNING. Please read.

Part 4 has serious subjects including noncon, NTR, breathplay, choking, deepthroating, and hints at death. If this is something that bothers you then please feel free to skip either it or this whole fic. No hard feelings. I will provide a summary of important bits at the beginning of pt 5 for anyone who wants to skip 4. Very "Dead Dove Do Not Eat"

Lucifer’s heart skips a beat as he looks at the time. He has to go, right now. He sneaks out from his palace, quickly making his way to the nearby lake. As he approaches he sees you sitting there under the weeping willow in your full angelic glory, gazing out at the water with your hands folded gracefully in your lap.

Lucifer spots you from a distance, his breath hitching as he lays eyes on the angelic beauty ahead of him. He walks towards you, taking in every inch of your ethereal presence. "My dear Seraph," he says with an exaggerated bow.

"Lucifer!" You say excitedly, pulling him down and into a hug. This isn't your first meeting. You and the king of Hell have been seeing each other for months now. At first you were both pretty awkward, but now you’ve become quite close.

Lucifer's heart skips a beat as he feels your arms around him, his own hesitating for a split second before wrapping around you in return. He savors the moment, the warmth and comfort that comes from your embrace. "My sweet angel," he murmurs softly, sinking into you.

"I missed you!" You say with complete sincerity. "How have you been since our last meeting?"

Lucifer can't help but let a warm smile spread across his face, "I have been well, my dear. I must admit, I found myself thinking of this place and our previous conversations during my absence." He looks deep into your eyes, "And most of all, I missed you too."

You smile happily and he swears he sees your cheeks turn slightly pink, though he tries to convince himself it's just the red ambiance of the Pride Ring.

You remember your first time meeting the King of Hell. You were a seraphim in Heaven and were supposed to pay a visit to Lucifer, The Fallen One. He was waiting in his palace, looking out a window with a view of the Heavenly Gate. With a glittering flap of your wings, you touched down on his balcony, feet gracefully coming to meet the stone while your gown fluttered around you with angelic glory.

As Lucifer turned to see you standing there you could swear his eyes widened. Clearly he’d been expecting someone else. After taking a moment to compose himself, he walked over to you and extended his hand, offering a warm smile. "Well, well, isn't this a pleasant surprise?”

You smiled shyly, holding your hand out as well. "The pleasure is all mine, truly."

Lucifer chuckled softly, taking your hand in his and gently pulling you closer. His touch was warm and electric, sending shivers down your spine. "And they say I'm not a charmer," he said with a teasing wink.

You blushed, blinking and looking down at the bowing man, nervous but with a look of slight fear in your eyes.

Lucifer's expression softened, his eyes taking on a more serious tone. "Be not afraid," he said gently, with a humorous smile. "I mean you no harm." He paused for a moment, letting the silence hang between you.

"It's not that,” you try to explain. “It's just… you aren't what I expected..."

Lucifer raised an eyebrow, "And what did you expect?" he asked, his voice calm and almost amused. "A monster? A demonic creature bent on tormenting the souls of the damned?"

You blushed again, looking away ashamedly. "We're told stories about you." You said, not wanting to admit that he was entirely correct.

Lucifer chuckled softly, shaking his head. "Ah, yes. The stories Heaven tells about me." He sighed, leaning back against the door frame. "They're not entirely untrue," he admitted with a wry smile. "But then again, they never are."

You played with the fabric of your skirt. "But they seem so… wrong."

Lucifer arched an eyebrow, intrigued by your reaction. "And how so?" he asked curiously. "Are you telling me that you believed the tales of my wickedness and cruelty? Or perhaps did you think I was some kind of wronged saint?"

"They tell us that you're a corruptor. That you wish to turn all angels from God's side. That you're vengeful and angry and full of hate..." You said, avoiding eye contact. But now, standing here in the presence of the man himself you felt silly for believing such ridiculous stories.

"Ah, yes," Lucifer nodded knowingly. "The classic tale of the fallen angel turned devil. A story almost as old as time itself." He paused for a moment before continuing, his voice growing more serious. "But let me ask you this, child: who told you these stories?

You downcast your gaze. "The other seraphim... the elders... but..." You gripped your skirt tightly, wrinkling the fabric.

His gaze piercing, Lucifer leaned toward you, his voice soft and melodic. "But what, child? Don't be afraid to speak your mind."

"But you don't seem like that at all..." You said with a sad look on your face.

Lucifer paused for a moment, his eyes studying you intently. "And what do you see when you look at me, child?" he asked gently, leaning forward and placing a hand on your arm.

You looked at him, your eyes staring deeply into his. It was only then that he noticed their piercing, ice blue color. "I... I see loneliness..." You answered softly.

Lucifer's heart skipped a beat at your words. He hadn't expected that kind of insight from someone so young and innocent-seeming. The hand he had on your arm tightened ever so slightly before he pulled away, straightening his own posture once more.

You straightened as well, eyes widening, startled. "I'm sorry!" You reach toward the gap between you, but not actually trying to touch him. "I didn't mean to upset you..."

Lucifer chuckled lightly, shaking his head. "Please, don't apologize." He stepped closer to you, his voice low and warm. "It's been a long time since someone saw through me like that, that’s all. You have a pure soul."

A light blush crossed your cheeks. You stared for a moment, surprised, before smiling shyly and looking at the ground.

Lucifer watched you blush, his heart skipping a beat again. There was something about you that couldn’t help but fascinate him. "You know," he said softly, reaching out to gently tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, "you remind me of someone from my past."

You looked up at him, wonderment in your wide eyes. "Who..?" You asked.

"A human," Lucifer said dreamily, his voice taking on a far-off tone as he remembered. "Her name was Lilith... She had the same innocence and purity that you possess." He looked back at you, his eyes filled with longing and sadness.

"L-Lilith?" You stuttered suddenly. "The first woman? Mother of demons? Queen of Hell? I... I've never heard her described as pure or innocent..."

"She wasn't always a demon," Lucifer said firmly. "She was once a human. And she was pure... until the darkness consumed her." He sighed heavily, looking down at his hands. "I miss her..."

"I heard that she's gone missing. She was your wife. That must be so hard…" you said softly.

Lucifer looked up at you, his eyes flashing with an intensity that made your heart skip a beat. "You truly are like her," he murmured, reaching out to gently brush his thumb across your cheekbone. "Compassion comes to you so easily."

"If she was so compassionate she wouldn't have abandoned you... abandoned your daughter, her people…!" You spat with an angry tone before realizing what you'd just said. You gasped, hands covering your mouth. "I'm so sorry! I-I shouldn't have said that!"

Lucifer's expression softened and he withdrew his hand slowly, placing it back down at his side. The intensity in his eyes faded, replaced with a gentle understanding. "No need to apologize, my dear," he replied calmly. "You speak the truth, however much it pains me to hear.”

"I'm just…” you searched your feelings. “I'm angry for you... is that... bad...?" You asked.

Lucifer's smile returned, gentle and reassuring. "No, my dear, it's not. In fact, it's quite the opposite. Knowing that you care about my wellbeing, even though you don't fully understand my past; understand me, it means a lot."

"If the other seraphim learned of this..." You said with fearful eyes, "that I held these feelings..."

Lucifer reached out to brush a stray lock of hair behind your ear once more, his thumb grazing the back of your neck in a soothing manner. "There's no need to worry about that, my dear. The other Seraphim don’t need to know the details of our little conversation."

You looked up at him with astonishment. "I've never kept a secret from them before..."

Lucifer's smirk turned wry at your words. "Then I should be honored to be your first, wouldn't you agree?” He chuckled softly. "Just consider this our little secret, alright? And remember, I'm always here if you need to talk."

"I... I guess so..." You gave a small smile.

"Good," Lucifer smiled in return, his voice soft and gentle.

Ever since, the two of you had become relatively inseparable.

Lucifer's gaze lingers on your cheeks, a small smile playing on his lips as he leans in closer to you. "You are the most charming creature in all of Hell and Heaven," he says, his voice low and sultry.

"Stop!" You say, playfully smacking at his chest. Now you really are blushing.

Lucifer can't help but stare. You absolutely radiate angelic glory. He grabs your hand gently, placing a tender kiss on the back of it. "You are too adorable," he says, squeezing your hand before letting go. "And that is likely going to be a problem."

"A problem?" You ask.

Lucifer takes a step back, running his fingers through his hair. "Yes," he says, with a nervous smile. "Unfortunately you can be mistaken for nothing but an angel. If you're going to keep coming down here we're going to have to get you a disguise..."

You perk at the suggestion. "A disguise!?" You say excitedly. "Like a sinner disguise?"

Lucifer chuckles at your enthusiasm. "Something like that," he says, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "I think I know just the thing..." He gestures and a golden portal opens revealing a dark hallway, full of different costumes and disguises.

With wide eyes you take his outstretched arm and step through, looking around at all the clothing. "Lucifer, this is..."

Lucifer watches you, a smirk on his face. "To die for?" he says, completing your sentence. "I know.” He begins looking around at the different costumes. "We could turn you into a demonic groupie, or a hellish businesswoman. The possibilities are endless.”

"And I can pick anything?" You ask

"Of course," Lucifer responds, giving you a sly grin. "Within reason, of course," he adds, glancing around to make sure no one else is around.

With an excited squeal you run into the hall, your eyes darting around wildly. Lucifer watched you grab an outfit and place it atop the rack only to begin pulling at the ties on your angelic robes, beginning to undress right there in front of him. The shock alone almost gives him a heart attack.

Lucifer feels his heart leap into his throat as he watches the puddle of your clothing grow at your feet. "WAIT!" he cries out spinning around to avoid accidentally seeing anything, his face tomato red. "What are you doing!?"

"Trying on one of the outfits?" You answer innocently.

"Y-yes, but in private!" Lucifer sputters, trying to regain his composure. He turns around slowly, keeping his eyes trained high above your head as he tries to push the more scandalous thoughts away. "You'll have to excuse me for being startled."

You blush but continue to change once he's turned around. "I'm sorry, I guess I've never really had to think about that before," you say shyly. "I'm only ever around the other seraphim and they're all girls."

Lucifer's brain comes to a screeching halt at your words, his face immediately softening at the thought of a young angel like yourself being so innocent. He clears his throat and smiles gently. "Well, things are definitely a little different here," he says with an embarrassed laugh.

"I'm finished! what do you think?" You say excitedly. Lucifer turns around and immediately turns bright red. The outfit you've chosen leaves very little to the imagination. You've chosen a tight pink backless dress with a plunging neckline and a slit that reaches your upper thigh.

Lucifer's eyes widen and his jaw drops open just a little. He swallows hard, trying to regain his composure, but failing utterly. "Y-you look...wow," he stammers out, taken aback at the sight before him. The air in the room turns electric as Lucifer forces his gaze from your barely-covered form to your eyes, a slight tremor in his hand as he reaches to adjust his coat. "A rather bold choice." He manages to say, unable to tear his eyes from your exposed skin despite his shock.

"Will this be a good disguise to wear in Hell?" You ask with a big smile.

The air around Lucifer turns frosty as he imagines other inhabitants of Hell seeing you in such a state. The idea of anyone else seeing you dressed like this makes ice run through his veins. "No, absolutely not," he says firmly, his eyes darkening slightly as he tries to shake off the disturbing image. "No, no, noooo."

You get a disappointed look on your face. "Is this one no good?" You ask, not understanding.

"It's not that," Lucifer says quickly, reaching out to lift your chin with his fingers, forcing you to meet his gaze. "You look stunning, simply breathtaking. But in Hell, such an outfit would attract far too much attention."

"Oh..." You say with a furrowed brow. "But I've seen others with clothes similar to these?" You say, confused.

Lucifer lets out a chuckle at your observation, his fingers still gently holding your chin. "Yes, you're right. You likely have seen others dressed like that in Hell. But trust me, you do not want the kind of attention that they attract."

You nod, beginning to understand. "Okay. Should I try something else then?"

Lucifer's lips curl into a small, approving smile at your compliance. He releases your chin and nods. "Yes, that would be best. Perhaps something that still shows off your... assets," he says with a smirk, "but with a little more discretion."

You nod, taking the suggestion and turning back to the rack and tapping your lower lip in thought, as Lucifer turns to give you privacy once more. As he does, Lucifer can't help but steal one last glance, admiring your form. He turns to give you privacy, but his mind lingers on the image of you in that ravishing dress.

He can hear you shuffling as you change only to call out to him when you're finished. "Okay, what about this one?" You ask. He turns only to find that this outfit is worse than the last. While, yes, it is less revealing, it consists entirely of tight black latex, the material clinging tightly to every curve and dip in your body.

Lucifer's eyes widen to saucers at the sight of you, taking in the outfit. The tight latex hugging your curves, highlighting every inch of you. He takes a moment to gather his thoughts, before finally choking out, "T-that... you..." once again, the image of you walking around Hell dressed like this gives him terrified heart palpitations. "No... I-I don't think this is a great choice either..."

You look saddened, your lower lip even poking out in a cute way. "What's wrong with this one?" You ask, looking down at yourself. "Isn’t everything covered?"

Lucifer stares at you, a look of sheer terror still in his eyes, "Well... yes, everything is covered, but..." he takes a moment to compose himself before speaking again, hoping his heart stays in his chest, "It might be a little too tight…”

"Too tight...?" You repeat back quietly, still unsure what he's getting at. You could breathe just fine after all.

He takes a deep breath as he finally blurts it out, "It might be a little distracting for me… and everyone else in Hell." He says, trying to be diplomatic. But as he looks you up and down, a slight blush tinges his cheeks, it's mostly him he's worried about.

"Distracting?" You look at yourself in the floor length mirror beside you, twisting and looking at your back as well. The poses, while innocent enough, only accentuate your perfect body and drive Lucifer absolutely mad.

"Yes, distracting." He admits, trying to hold your gaze, "You see, your... appearance is quite... alluring. It's just..." He runs his fingers through his hair, his eyes glancing at the outfit again, "...aaahhh.... how to explain this...?"

"But there's hardly any of my body showing?" You say curiously. "This one goes from my neck to my ankles?”

His eyes quickly scan over your figure, from head to toe, as he takes in every curve of your new outfit. "Ah... yes. Technically so. But..." He pauses, trying to find the right words to express himself before finally shrugging, "You still look... very tempting."

"And that's a bad thing?" You say innocently.

"No." He shakes his head, "It's not bad... It's just..." He again searches for the right words as he watches your reflection in the mirror, "Complicated. For me anyway."

His words finally seem to get through to you, your eyes brightening as you stand a little straighter. "Oh! ok. I understand." You smile, putting your hands together in front of you with a quiet clap. "I don't want this to complicate things for you. The whole point is to blend in better, isn't that right?"

He smiles, relieved at your understanding and pleased that he managed to convey his feelings to you, "Yes, that's exactly right." He nods, pleased that the both of you are on the same page with this matter, "We want to draw as little attention as possible."

"Maybe you could help me pick something then?" You ask, blushing slightly. "I'm afraid my choices didn't seem to be what we need here."

"Of course," he offers, turning his attention towards the clothing racks. His eyes scan over the various garments, stopping on a black dress that catches his eye. "How about this?"

Your eyes sparkle with interest. "Oooh! yes!" You say excitedly, taking the dress from him and turning back to the mirror to change.

Lucifer turns around once more to give you privacy. He's only turned but a few seconds when he hears your tiny voice.

"Um... Lucifer...?" You ask, sounding embarrassed.

"Hmm?" He asks, not looking back over at you but instead tilting his head slightly as he notices your tone, "Is something wrong? Do you need help?"

"I... I can't get this off..." You say quietly. "Can you help...?"

Lucifer blushes at the implication... surely you mean that you need help with the zipper or something, right? He can handle that. He'd done that loads of times for Lilith and Charlie. He turned to help only to be stunned into silence.

There you stand, the latex bodysuit unzipped from your neck all the way to your lower back. Your pale, lavender-tinted gray angel skin peeking through the shining, dark martial. You clutch your hands at your chest, looking back at Lucifer over your shoulder, embarrassed.

"It's stuck." You say softly.

He turns beet red at seeing you half undressed, and quickly turns away to collect himself. Lucifer clears his throat before turning back around. He slowly moves towards you, trying to look anywhere but at your bare skin, and carefully tries to help you get out of the latex suit. "I... okay. Um.. hold out your arms."

You do as you're asked, obediently holding your arms out so Lucifer can begin to peel the suit from your shoulders. His touch is light but firm as he helps you out of the stuck latex. He can't help but sneak a peek every now and then, feeling his cheeks warm as he does so. The more he removes the more he begins to realize he’ll have to unveil your entire body before you get this completely off.

Lucifer's heart races in his chest as he continues to carefully help you out of the suit. He tries to keep his focus on the task at hand, but he can't help but notice how your body begins to be revealed more and more with every inch of fabric he peels away. "O-okay, now pull this arm out." He instructs.

You do as you're told, freeing one of your arms making it significantly easier to free the other as well, and without completely uncovering your chest. Now all that's left is the hips and legs, but Lucifer is unsure how to do that without having you become completely naked in the process.

His chest tightens as he realizes the predicament you both are in, his heart racing as he considers the options. "Well, uh, I suppose we could try to carefully unzip it all the way down and then slip it off your hips..." he suggests.

"Okay," you say, moving so the zipper is within his reach. Lucifer looks down at it, resting on your lower back, mere millimeters above your perfectly round ass. He's going to have to touch you to do it...

Lucifer's breath hitches in his throat. He swallows hard, gathering his composure before reaching out to slowly trace his fingers along the zipper. His touch is gentle, electric as he begins to lower the zipper, feeling your body heat through the fabric. "Ok," he says once you're fully unzipped, looking up to the ceiling and blushing. "Now try and pull it over your hips."

You lean down, letting your torso become fully uncovered, but as you're facing away from him, he doesn't actually see anything but your naked back. It's not until you begin to wiggle out of the hips that he realizes you weren't wearing anything underneath the bodysuit. Lucifer almost swallows his tongue.

His breath hitches again, the sight of your bare back already filling his mind with a flurry of sinful thoughts. Without thinking, Lucifer's wings burst free, the topmost set moving to cover his face, which is now a nice cherry apple red, hiding your exposed form from him.

You pull the bodysuit down past your hips and give out a sigh of relief. "I didn't realize how hot that was until it was off... probably good not to pick that one." You say with a giggle.

He swallows dryly from behind his wings, the tips twitching from the sheer display before him. He tries his hardest not to be tempted, to not look as his mind continually undresses the rest of you. "I trust you can handle the rest..." he says before turning around. Giving his heart a moment to still itself, Lucifer finally lets his wings retract. His gaze falls straight towards the distant wall, every nerve in his body alight.

"Um..." Your voice comes once more. "I think I might need help again..." You mumble.

Lucifer's eyes snap straight up as you speak and he practically wills his wings to stay tucked. As your words register, he freezes, his throat tightening. He can't help but imagine what he will see should he turn his gaze back towards you. "I- I'm listening." he says, trying his best to control his voice... and his instincts.

"I've got it mostly on but I need help lacing the back..." You say softly, and with a hint of effort in your voice.

Lucifer turns around and is immediately in awe. There you stand in the outfit he picked out. A black dress that has a fitted corset top but a loose skirt that stops mid thigh. The sleeves are puffy but off the shoulder, and the knee high boots that you've put on match so well he almost can't stand it. The dress is absolutely stunning, a perfect blend of elegance with just a hint of playfulness. Your smooth skin and the way your hair cascades over your shoulders like a waterfall of silk is nothing short of mesmerizing. And the boots? Chefs kiss. When he's finally able to pull his eyes away from you, he realizes you're desperately attempting to lace the back of the dress and failing, little sounds of effort and frustration escaping you as you do.

"Is this one no good either...?" You ask, sounding worried, when you see him staring silently.

Lucifer feels his heart thump unexpectedly against his chest as you speak, being met with an overwhelming display of your beauty, he almost can't find his voice. He quickly averts his gaze with a cough, afraid of being caught staring. "N-no! No, umm... you look stunning," he stammers, trying to maintain his composure. “This is the one.”

You grin, happy to have finally found something good. "Well, then can you help me lace it up? I can't seem to do it right..." You reach behind you, holding the black laces that are partially inserted into the corseted back of the dress, though messily.

Lucifer's eyes immediately narrow as he watches your fingers struggle with the laces, noticing the slight flush of embarrassment creep onto your cheeks. Without a second thought, he gracefully approaches you and carefully removes your fingers, holding the laces gently. "As you wish, my dear.”

"So you like this one?" You ask as he deftly begins your work on your back.

His touch lingers on your back as he smoothly begins to weave the laces through the corset, carefully pulling and tightening them. A mysterious smile finds his lips at your question, pausing briefly before answering. "I must admit, I can't recall ever seeing anything quite as captivating,"

You blush, looking at the floor. "Surely that's not true..." You say softly. "You were there at the beginning of creation. surely you've seen far lovelier than me."

He chuckles softly, moving to stand closely behind you, his breath warm on your neck. "Ah, my dear. Time and again, I have witnessed the beauty of countless creations and marvels. But there is something that sets you apart - an allure that transcends physicality."

You straighten at the sensation, a shiver running down your spine that makes your skin glow with angelic glory.

Lucifer leans back a moment, having finished your ties. "Now... that's going to be an issue..." he says with a sigh.

"Oh, I suppose so. Most sinners don't really glow do they?" You ask with a worried face.

"Only the ones on fire," he says, smirking when you look shocked at his dark joke. He conjures a small, concealing spell around you, dulling the glow. "Now let's do some final touches," he says, adding a set of black curled ram horns and a tail to match. "And to finish it off..." he snaps his fingers and your seraph wings are transformed into a smaller, more manageable set of bat wings. "Now you are truly fit for Hell," he says with a pleased smile.

Your eyes widen as you look at yourself in the mirror. You do a little spin and your smile slowly spreads from ear to ear. "This... I look incredible. You'd never know I was an angel! And these cute little wings!" You say flapping them sweetly.

"Well, that was the point, after all," he says with a lazy smirk. He watches you, his charismatic glimmer still there. When he sees your smile, it widens, and he knows he did a good job. "I'm glad you like them. They're functional too, so you can still fly, but they won't be quite so in-the-way and obvious.”

"They're perfect!" You shout, turning to Lucifer and jumping into his arms, hugging him tightly in appreciation.

He catches you with ease, his eyes widening for a moment. As Lucifer regains his composure, he smirks at your sudden display of gratitude, wrapping his arms around your waist and giving you a gentle squeeze. Enjoying the embrace more than he'd care to admit before placing you back down.

"So what now!?" You ask excitedly before giving him your best attempt at a seductive look. "Shall we begin my first day as a succubus?”

Lucifer's cheeks turn redder than usual, he hadn't intended to make you look like a succubus, but you were right, you did resemble one. It was truly taking everything on him to keep the thoughts at bay. He leans in a bit closer, enjoying the thrill of playing with fire. "Well, we could...?"

You quickly take his hand and drag him through the double doors leading further into the palace. Excited to see who notices, or perhaps doesn't notice.

Lucifer follows you without resisting, enjoying your newfound boldness and confidence. He's curious to see what will happen when people see the new, glamorous you. As you both enter the grand hall, some demons glance over and immediately take notice of the beautiful new being with him, but none react as though you're an angel. So far, it seems to be mission accomplished.

Everything is going well until an imp walks by and brushes against your new tail and you stop suddenly, squatting down into almost a fetal position, your tail wrapping protectively around you. Lucifer chuckles as he sees the imp do so, it was bound to happen at some point. "Oh, look at that." He says, trying not to laugh out loud. "Seems like someone is enjoying their new form" He smirks devilishly at you. But you don't answer.

The Imp quickly scurries away, not realizing the VIP he just brushed against. Lucifer raises an eyebrow at you, intrigued by your sudden silence. "What's wrong, my dear?" He asks, his voice smooth as ever, his other eyebrow also raised in curiosity. He approaches you and leans down to look at your face, only to notice how flushed you've become, trembling and glassy eyed.

"Lucifer..." You whimper.

He looks at you with a mix of confusion and concern. Squatting down to your level, he reaches out a hand to gently cup your cheek, caressing it softly with his thumb. "What's the matter? Did that imp upset you?”

"N-no it's just... I've never had a tail before..." You blush and look away. "It's... it's sensitive..." You attempt to explain with heavy breaths.

A worried look crosses his face. "I'm sorry, maybe we should go somewhere more private until you get more desensitized to it." he suggests, putting an arm around your shoulders. He snaps his fingers before helping you through the newly opened portal and into his study, a room full of books, board games and a large fireplace. He sits you down on the lounge couch near the fire and sits next to you, placing his hand on your back gently, offering support.

"Ok so... I should apologize. I'd forgotten how sensitive tails can be, especially new ones," he says embarrassingly, rubbing the back of his neck. "But it goes away after a while, once it's been handled a little."

You look up at him with a dazed look. "Will you help me with it?" You look up at him from under your lashes. "I've never felt something like this before. I..." You ask in a timid voice.

Lucifer's eyes widen with a mix of surprise and intrigue at your question, "Are you sure?" he asks, not wanting to let his eagerness push you to do something you aren't comfortable with.

"If you don't want to, that's okay..." You say sweetly. "I'm sure it'll be fine. I'm surely just overreacting. We can go back out," you attempt to insist, but as your tail wags it rubs the leg of Lucifer’s pants and you can't suppress another shiver.

Suddenly the image of you out in the middle of the Pride Ring flashes into his head. Any passerby able to reach out and touch your tail, leaving you a puddle, all without understanding why... no. He couldn't allow that. He took a deep breath to steady himself.

"Nonsense," he declares, rising from the couch with a grace reminiscent of his angelic origins. "Let me help you," he gently turns you slightly away from him, getting ready to handle your tail with care.

You nod, giving him a very thankful look before letting your tail flick up and onto his lap with a slight flinch. A gentle smile tugs at his lips as you allow him to handle your tail. Tentatively at first, he wraps it around his fingers, careful not to hurt or startle you.

His touch is so gentle and yet it sends such strange sensations through you. You find yourself gasping, blushing, and flinching slightly, your eyes closing tightly as you try to suppress all the noises attempting to escape you.

Lucifer's grin widens as he realizes he can hear something akin to a soft moan, a pleasurable gasp. His confidence shoots up through the roof as he leans in. "Is this still okay?" he asks, "Not too much?"

You shake your head a little more forcefully than you’d intended. "N-no. I'm ok. I can handle this. keep going."

A feeling of deep contentment fills Lucifer as he can see the mix of embarrassment and desire flashing across your features. But he doesn't comment on it, merely smiles sweetly and starts to run his fingers along the length of your tail.

You try to keep yourself calm but a squeak still escapes you, and it seems as though once one escapes, more are determined to join. You curl up a little as his fingers touch your tail, shuddering and gasping, almost too overstimulated, but not quite.

Lucifer's eyes light up as he realizes there's a bit more passion hidden behind your reserved exterior. He continues gently caressing and massaging your tail, making sure to pay attention to each movement your body makes. He watches you with a mix of amusement and desire, his eyes sparkling. Then he starts to lightly squeeze and tug on it, a slow, teasing motion, his thumb tracing teasing circles up to the base at your back.

"A-ah..." You let out a shuddering breath, my body trembling.

He can feel how warm you're getting from your tail, it's radiating heat, not to mention your cheeks are quite red now. Your eyes are growing foggy. Lucifer can't help but feel something at your response, his fingers still moving in steady, deliberate strokes and teasing squeezes. The sight of you becoming so visibly flustered and aroused only serves to ignite the fire burning within him. He starts to gently caress your tail with more confidence. His actions are measured and deliberate, a perfect combination of roughness and tenderness, leaving you squirming just enough to make him feel like he's in control of your reactions.

You place the back of your hand against your mouth to stifle the sounds that are clawing their way up your throat. Lucifer smirks at the sight, his eyes locked on your hand and the trembling movements it makes as you struggle to control yourself. He finds himself growing more and more infatuated, enthralled by every sign of pleasure that escapes you, despite your efforts to hold back. Then he gets an idea. With a sly grin he lets his tail appear, slipping like a snake around and between the two of you until it reaches yours, coiling around it and tangling them together.

"L-lucifer..." You whimper out, your other hand reaching out to grasp at his shirt.

"Yes, my dear?" Lucifer asks, letting his own grin grow wider as he watches you struggle against your newfound lust and his growing influence. He feels the twitching of your tail against his and decides to take this teasing to the next level.

"W-what's happening...?" You ask as he continues.

Lucifer opens his mouth to answer only to get his first real look at you since he started. He finally sees your distressed face, the tears in your eyes and the quiver on your lip.

"L-lucifer... it's... it's too much..." You say with a quivering voice.

Seeing this, Lucifer immediately stops and pulls back, his expression softening. "Sweetheart, oh no." Guilt washes over him for his actions, knowing that he went too far. He let his excitement overshadow your needs. "I'm so sorry..." He gently untangles your tails before moving you closer to him until he can feel your face buried in his chest.

"Lucifer..." You say softly, pressing your face into him, inhaling his sweet scent.

He wraps his arms around you, feeling the heat of your body against his. "I'm so, so sorry, my dear." He responds in a whisper, as if trying not to break the moment. Lucifer places a gentle kiss on top of your head, holding back the urge to completely lose control again. "Are you okay?" He asks, looking down towards you. A small, tender smile crosses his face as he sees that you’ve dozed off in his arms. He looks down at your peaceful expression, feeling a warmth spread through him. Slowly, he turns to lay down on the couch with you still cradled in his arms.

Hours later you awaken, Lucifer holding you lovingly against his chest. Remembering what had brought you there, you blush, quickly pulling away and magicking away your disguise, at least for the time being. You hear Lucifer stir and turn to see him just as he sits up. Groggily rubbing his eyes.

“Time to go home already?” He asks, a sad note to his musical voice.

“Unfortunately,” you answer with a somber smile.

“Before you go let me give you something." Lucifer stands, leaving the room for a moment. When he returns he holds out his hand, asking for your own. You do as he seems to want, and he quickly wraps something around it, it's soft and surprisingly warm.

"Wh... what's this...?" You ask, eager, not having seen it yet.

"Look and see," Lucifer replies, his voice low and seductive. When you pull your wrist back you see a single long feather—white as snow and glistening in the dim light of Hell. It is soft to the touch, almost silky.

With wide, shocked eyes you look at Lucifer. "Is... is this... one of yours...?" You ask, incredulous.

Lucifer's smirk returns, full of wicked delight. "Yes, it's one of my secondary feathers," he replies, his voice thick with meaning, his fingers tracing circles around your wrist. “With this," Lucifer whispered, his lips grazing the skin of your wrist, "if you ever need me. I will know and I will come to your side."

Lucifer watches as you smile and blush, pleased by your reaction. He can't help but feel a twinge of possessiveness towards you, as if he was slowly but surely drawing you into his world.

“Thank you…” you say softly, aware of how big a deal a gift like this is. Secondary feathers, like primary feathers, do not grow back, but *unlike* primary feathers, unless one loses all of them, their flying won't be impacted. Loss of too many primary feathers will cause either a severe difficulty or, in most cases, the inability to ever fly again. With as much power as these feathers hold, you instantly understand the seriousness of this gift. “Truly… you bless me.”

“I’d want it with no one else. Go home safely and return the same,” he says with a soft kiss to your knuckles.

With a heavy head and a confused heart, you open the portal home and step through, allowing yourself one last glance back at the King of Hell's gentle face.

WHOO! I'm excited to get this off the ground. Things are only gonna get more steamy from here, and part three... Well... Let's just say I'm excited for part 3...

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mae-gi-writes · 2 days

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Finders Keepers | Gally [TMR] - Part 6

In which Gally gets soft for one of the boys in the Glade, only…is it a boy? alternatively; In which Mai disguises herself into a boy to fit in the Glade, only to be suspected by the keen eyes of the Builder's Keeper.

taglist: @edynmeyer1 @ss28 @kurowvie @vaugarkel @marikittt @angelfrombeneth @undeniableadrenaline @persiar9 @ss28

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"She needs to be banished."

"I say we banish her!"

"She doesn't belong here!"

"She's a liar!"

The Homestead is filled with angry shouts and protests as Mai sits fingering the hem of her shirt nervously. There's no doubt that there is outrage at the prospect of her lying, but it's definitely the fact that she's a girl that's getting her into this big mess. But what could she have done when the voices in her head are so strong that she has no choice but to obey?

Last night had been terrible. She had nightmares, flashbacks of the night before, the look of Henry's face plaguing her mind until she woke up with a heaving chest. So fearful she'd been that she'd crawled from her mattress to the edge of Gally's bed, wishing to feel him close at her side.

Gally, who had still been sleepy when his eyes had blinked open at her, merely grunted before flipping his blanket open for her. The girl took this chance to burrow herself into his side. She hadn't cared about personal space or about the fact that the Builder would make fun of her for this. She'd only wanted to feel safe, and it's with Gally that she could have a peace of mind.

Which is how she found herself cooped up into Gally's arms in the morning, opening her eyes to see none other than his peaceful features. She'd spent some time admiring him alright, tracing them with her eyes and realizing that Gally looked years younger when he didn't have that permanent frown on his face. And when the Builder had slowly come out of sleep, the girl had quickly squeezed her eyes shut in an attempt to feign sleep.

She'd felt him take a surprised breath, the arm around her waist tensing underneath her, before he'd gently tugged his limb out and moved away from the bed with the kind of surprising gentleness that she hadn't suspected he had. What he hadn't known however, was the way Mai's heart had been beating erratically against her chest this entire time she'd forced herself to stay still.

If she closes her eyes now, she can almost feel the sensation of his hands along her waist. It makes her shiver.

"Alright everyone calm down!" Alby's voice booms through the room and there's instant silence that prevails, leaving only suspicious eyes and reluctant looks at the Leader of the glade.

"Nobody is getting banished for anything," Alby continues despite the flurry of protests at his words. He raises his voice so that it booms across the room, "Mai is one of ours. She's a Glader just like the rest of you."

"She shuckin' lied to us!" One of the gladers spit out.

"And did that hurt you? No? Exactly," Alby points out, "as far as I know, she hasn't hurt anybody around here."

"I agree with him," Minho says from his spot, arms crossed and looking over at Mai with a wink, "if anything, she's the one that's helping to fees your stomachs, you stupid slintheads."

"But she still lied. Does that not count for anything?" another glader asks.

The choral of debates pick up and Mai can't help but cover her ears out of instinct. They're all too loud, so loud they make her ears hurt and she has half a mind to walk out of the room before Alby finally yells out for silence.

The noise ceases and everyone listens.

"Right," his voice rings out with authority, "this is what we're gonna do. It's true that Mai broke the rules by lying to us, but that does not mean she gets banished. She didn't hurt anyone. She's the one who almost got hurt." he turns to her then, a flash of sympathy swimming in his eyes. But she gives him a quiet nod, as if in understanding, "so one night in the Slammer is your punishment."

Mai will take it. It's not the best, but she'll survive.

So she doesn't protest or fight when Newt and Minho flank her sides, accompanying her to one of the Slammer cages. They help her inside before closing the door behind her with apologetic looks on their faces.

"Sorry Greenie," Newt says, "we'll get you out of here first thing in the morning."

"I'll come and slip you food," Minho reassures.

"Thanks," Mai's voice is weak and tiny as it echoes out of the cage. She doesn't say anything else as she settles down onto the hard muddy floor. Great, and now she'll have even more dirty clothes to wash.

The hours go by and time seems to lose meaning. Mai tries to occupy herself by counting how many roots she can find sticking out from the opposite mud wall but soon loses interest when the light of the sun slowly disappears and turns to a blanket of darkness. Soon, all the bustling and the clinking of tools, the shouts and the buzz of conversation still to a stop once the light of the day starts going out. And that's when the fear starts to crawl over her spine.

She tries not to think about what had happened with Henry but it's almost impossible to close her eyes without seeing all of him in display before her. Mai clenches her teeth together, arms wrapping protectively around her knees as she allows her face to bury into the small nook of comfort that it creates.

Crunch. The sound of footsteps cause Mai to jerk up, eyes flitting towards the black sky. Her breath catches in her throat as she waits, muscles tense. She's had enough adventure to last herself a lifetime and is in no need of more boys like Henry around. Especially right now.

But then, a voice slips through the silence and causes her to sigh out in relief.

"Hey Greenie."

Gally.

And there comes his face between the caged bars, frowning is usual frown as if everything displeases him. The familiar sight is one that is welcome by the said girl, whose chest fills with emotion upon seeing his figure standing a few meters away. She's never felt so safe with anyone but Gally and that simple fact brings back memories of them cooped up together in his bed. Heat flushes through her cheeks at the thought and she's glad it's night time, so that Gally doesn't have to see the embarrassment flooding her face.

"Hi Gally," she croaks out weakly.

He lets out a sigh. She hears him move about until she spots his figure as he takes a seat perched right atop the cage.

"Thought you'd be hungry," he proceeds to toss her a wrapped sandwich that Mai grabs without hesitation.

She unwraps it with barely restrained hunger and the first bite is amazing, flavours exploding onto her tongue and causing her to groan in delight. She hasn't eaten since morning and her stomach is practically growling itself to death at this point.

"You'll have to stay the night," Gally's voice echoes through the cell wall.

Mai bites down onto her lower lip, "I know." Her eyes flutter up to his. She's surprised by the gentleness she finds there. It's not something she's used to, "I'll be fine."

Gally doesn't respond for a while. Mai busies herself with the food in hopes that the awkward atmosphere will somehow dissipate. She's not quite sure how Gally takes it; the news about her being a girl. They haven't spoken about it since and something in her heart squeezes at the thought that he doesn't want anything else to do with her now that he knows her secret.

But then again, he wouldn't be here providing her with food right?

That is why she's surprised when he says:

"I'm sorry."

Mai blinks up, surprised.

"Why?" The words fall out of her mouth before she can stop them, "it's not your fault. If anything, it's mine." The last few words trail off into a whisper, as though saying them aloud might bring back the memory of last night.

He takes a breath, exhales it out as one hand rubs at his hair. He has a very bad habit of doing that when something's on his mind.

"Gally," Mai calls out once she's done with her food and crumpled the wrapping paper up into a ball. When his blue orbs meet hers, dancing with the light of the lamp, she gives him a small smile, "thank you. For saving me."

He grunts as if to say you're welcome, and she swear she spots a blush crawling up his face. Grinning to herself, Mai settles back against the wall as she hears the soft chants of the cicadas signaling that the night will be long.

"You don't have to stay here with me, you know." she says suddenly, only to find Gally already looking back down with furrowed brows. The look on his face is somewhat endearing. She's learnt to love it, his grouchiness.

"It's either that or you're all alone, greenie."

"I can take care of myself."

"That's not what you said last night."

Mai flushes at his words. Well, he's not the greatest at softening blows now, is he? "Well, that was--it was just last night..." her words end in a mumble, causing a soft snicker from the said Builder.

"Try and get some sleep, Greenie." He settles himself more comfortably against the top so that he's lounging onto the edge, visible enough for Mai to see him without having to crane her neck or look about, "I don't need you being all cranky tomorrow morning. And--" he peers down at her with what looks to be a smirk, "--don't think I'll let you off the hook so easily just 'cause you're a girl."

"Slinthead," Mai mutters under her breath, but loud enough for him to hear as she nestles her head against the wall and curls up her legs underneath, "night Gally."

"Goodnight Greenie."

-----

The next few days are weird.

Weird, because Gally now has to re-train his brain into thinking that Mai's indeed, a girl, and that it's not just something that he's come up with as a theoretical explanation. No, she's actually a girl and she looks like one, even.

It's not just the fact that she's tiny and pale and looks like she could snap in two with just a huge gust of wind. It's not just the fact that she's always in the kitchens and is now able to tie her hair back with a bandana to keep it away from her face -- something that she'd avoided because it would make people talk back then -- not just the fact that Mai, he realizes, has soft and fine, delicate features akin to a doll, a complete contrast to the rough hands and the hardened faces of the boys in the Glade.

No. It's the fact that despite all of what he's just described as above, despite everything that he's listed out like a reason for him to blame upon, it's Mai's brown eyes -- those big, beautiful eyes framed by lashes and always looking at him like she's in a permanent state of surprise -- that has his heart skipping and his chest tightening for god knows what reason.

Maybe he's coming down with something. He surely is. He feels hot and cold and hot all at once, and that's proven to be signs of sickness.

But it's a harder face to ignore than most. Suddenly, Mai is the center of attention and all boys are basking, begging to be part of her circle. Some gladers are giving her a helping hand when carrying stuff to and from the kitchen, some are chatting her up whenever they find her alone and free, others are always asking whether she needs anything; someone to walk with her, someone to guard her showers, someone to help her pick up branches for firewood.

Gally's not too sure how he feels about that. So he decidedly puts a stop to all his feelings. And plus, the Greenie is now fine with everyone and seems to be getting along quite well. She doesn't look in need of his help any longer.

Nevertheless, a few days go by and finally it's time for the box to come up. They all crowd around it nervously, knowing exactly at what precise time the metal hinges will scream with effort as the box is dragged upwards. Gally is busy frowning down at the metal-clad hole in the ground with such intensity that he almost misses the soft tap on his shoulder.

He turns, eyes flickering over Mai's features as something in his heart tugs. A cold, he thinks to himself, he really needs to get himself checked out by the Med-Jacks.

"Gally," her eyes light up when she smiles. She has a pretty smile. How had he not noticed that before when she'd claimed to be a guy?

He nods to her, frown still in place as he turns back to the hole, "Greenie."

"I'm not going to be a Greenie anymore," Mai reminds him, "we'll get a new one today."

He glances back at her over his shoulder, "the name suits you."

She pouts and this particular expression on hers throws him off guard, heart suddenly clamoring in his chest and his hands suddenly aching to reach out and pinch her cheeks. God she's cute when she wants to be.

The familiar clanging of metal and the whirring of cogs steals his attention away. All Gladers turn to it expectantly as the box slowly crawls up to their level before finally coming to a stop with a screeching halt.

"Open it up!" Alby shouts as him and Newt grab both sides of the box. Gally leans over to help and they tug it out of the way to reveal a young, pudge-faced boy that looks no older than twelve.

"It's a boy!" one of the Gladers shout out in what sounds to be happiness and Mai can't help but scoff.

Since Mai is the greenie right before him, she has the responsibility of introducing the boy to the Glade. He's young and has a cherubic face, and almost bursts into tears the moment he is lifted from the box. Alby had had to calm him down and explain to him how the Glade works in the privacy of the Homestead as everyone resumed their work for the day, and after that the young boy was introduced to Mai as Chuck.

Chuck is nice and friendly once he gets comfortable with Mai's presence, and the two seem to hit it off once they get past the pleasantries of the Glade. He seems already a bit homesick and Mai is quick to reassure him that the Glade already feels like home to her.

"Don't worry," Mai says as she helps him tie up his hammock next to hers. Gally had previously forced her to move her hammock as close to his hut as possible in case of any inappropriate behavior from the boys now that her identity was out in the open, so she was now placed on the very edge of the Hammock space, right in front of the said Builder's front door. It's not a problem in the grand scheme of things. But it is an issue when Gally just has to glance at the new kid to make his eyes water.

"He's not that bad you know," Mai explains to Chuck as the younger boy settles himself into his hammock, "he's a bit grouchy sometimes. But he's got a good heart."

"Are you sure we're talking about the same dude?" Chuck asks, fingering the hem of the new t-shirt he's received from one of the Gladers.

Mai can't help but laugh, "yes, we are. I swear to you. His heart's in the right place," she pauses, hesitant to say the words that come next, "He was actually really sweet to me throughout my first month at the glade."

Chuck's eyes are gazing upon her with a childlike curiosity that has her squirming in place and Mai feels the heat of embarrassment crawling up her cheeks as she tries to blow out some air. That's when he drops the bomb:

"You like him?"

Her heart stops, head whipping up to his, "what?" she stammers out, "what do you mean?"

"You know," Chuck says with the calmness of her mature person despite the fact that he's two feet shorter than she is, "like when people like each other. Not just as friends. As something more. Do you like him that way?"

"I--" Mai's heart is pumping so loud she's surprised Chuck can't hear it. But if it's not her heart, it's her face flushing red that gives her away. She doesn't need to answer, for Chuck seems to have read it straight from her expression.

His face explodes into a mischievous grin, "you do like him!"

"No, I--"

"Yes you do. Look at your face, it's written all over it!"

"No no, not like that--"

"You do! You like him!"

"Who likes who?"

Mai turns, yelping in shock as Chuck almost falls from his hammock. The Keeper of the Builders is staring him down, eyebrows raised in suspicion before his blue eyes direct themselves towards Mai's face. He repeats his question, "you like someone?"

Somehow, the darkness in his tone is impossible to ignore.

Mai is quick to dispel his thoughts for fear that her red face is going to give it all away, "no of course not, I--"

"Yes she does, and guess what Gally? She--"

Mai's hand shoots out, slapping onto Chuck's mouth before she sends Gally an innocent grin. The latter doesn't seem quite as thrilled at the new statement, gaze flickering between Mai's uneasy smile and Chuck's struggling expression.

"She what?"

"Nothing at all!" Mai throws the younger boy a glare before shoving him back into his hammock and turning to Gally with a smile so huge it looks like it hurts, "what you up to, Gal?"

If he's noticed the nickname, he decides to ignore it in favor of crossing his arms and cocking his head at her. There's a ghost of a smile, just barely there, on his face, "I wanted to show you somethin'. " He then turns to walk away, glancing back at her over his shoulder expectantly like he wants her to follow him.

So Mai throws Chuck one last glance of disapproval, "don't go anywhere alone. I'll finish the tour this afternoon." before she's off skipping in Gally's direction all while whistling a soft tune under her breath.

They make their way to the Builder's section, looking more like a garden with an array of tools scattered about the place while others are poised dangerously over overgrown tree roots. Gally calls out for the mess to be cleaned up and Mai's stomach clenches with sudden admiration. It's not something she'd say out loud but seeing Gally in his natural element makes her insides turn to mush.

He ducks into a small hut designed to keep his floorplans and blueprints. Mai follows, only to stop dead in her tracks at the piece of furniture sitting at the centre of the room.

"What's that?" She cocks her head curiously.

One of his hands go up to rub the back of his neck. He seems embarrassed, eyes shying away from hers to gaze at the furniture instead.

"That's a bed," he says almost reluctantly, voice scratchy and rough and making Mai yearn for more, "I thought it might fit you."

Surprise flits across her face, "thank you, that's—really kind of you." She shakes her head then, "but I'm not sure I have space to fit that in the Homestead—"

But the words get stuck in her throat when the Builder turns to gaze her head-on, those cerulean eyes like aquamarine storms of emotions flickering across his pupils like words that he can't seem to find.

"It's yours. Alby and I— well," he hesitates, "we thought you might want a Hut."

Mai stares at him. A hut? Just for her?

Her heart skips a beat and suddenly the air around her feels warm. Surely he didn't do that just for her right?

"But that's not fair is it?" She murmurs out, "all the other gladers—"

"Have eyes on you," he cuts her off with a firm stare, "it's better if you have a place of your own."

"But my hammock's right next to your hut. Makes it safe enough doesn't it?"

"I'm not always gonna be there Mai, I—" he swallows thickly, as if he'd stopped himself from saying anything else in case he might say too much. Pressing his lips together instead, Gally continues in a grumble, "it's better this way Greenie."

"I'm not a greenie anymore."

A semblance of a smile ghosts past his lips, "I know. It still fits you though."

Mai can't help but grin before she shoves him playfully. Although Gally barely budges. He's built like a brick wall after all. It's impossible to move him.

"Well, thank you Gally," she looks back towards the bed, "I'll take care of it."

"Right you do, Greenie."

----

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skelavender · 2 days

Text

“Hey Scully,” he murmurs into her shirt. Well, technically, it's his t-shirt, a fact that he had confessed interests him deeply to say the least, but Scully is the one wearing it. “Yes?” “Do you wanna make out?”

read the finale of you are in love on ao3, or below the cut!

You can hear it in the silence, silence, you

You can feel it on the way home, way home, you

You can see it with the lights out, lights out

You are in love, true love

You are in love

You can hear it in the silence, silence, you

You can feel it on the way home, way home, you

You can see it with the lights out, lights out

You are in love, true love

You are in love

***

January 1997

Nothing changes really, not yet.

They crawl into bed like they always do, limbs intertwined and socks shoved between the sheets. The only difference is the ten minutes of kissing that happens before Scully breaks away in a yawn, and Mulder leans over to turn the light out with a light laugh.

They end up with Mulder’s front to Scully’s back, his nose tucking into the space behind her ear. His lips brush the back of her neck, making it a little difficult to focus on sleeping. Every one of his breaths that dances across the line of her cervical vertebrae causes her own breath to hitch in response.

“Scully?”

“Mhmm.”

“I love you.”

She smiles. “I love you too.”

He’s silent for a moment, but when he continues, his voice is rough with emotion, like he’s as overwhelmed with the enormity of his feelings for her as she is. “I don’t think anyone could understand me half as well as you do if they tried, Scully. Thank you.”

Scully holds his arm closer to her body, and kisses his knuckles. “I’ve got you, Mulder.”

“I know you do.”

***

When Scully wakes in the morning, she feels Mulder’s eyes boring into her, and she wants to shrink under the weight of it. Not out of fear, never out of fear with Muder, but because his gaze is so damn sincere that the richness of it sits heavy on her shoulders. It’s so intense, she can hardly bear it. Last night was real. He means every word. God, every time he had looked at her like this over the past four years, he loved her then. He loves her.

“Hey,” he greets softly, his voice light with wonder.

“Good morning.” Scully can’t help but smile through the words, and buries her face into his neck to avoid being teased for her blush.

“I keep thinking that… was last night real?”

Scully just nods into his neck, her nose brushing his carotid artery. She presses a kiss to his skin, another layer of confirmation. He relaxes slightly under her.

They sit there for a while, silent, just basking in the peace, in the perfection of it all. It’s Mulder who finally breaks it.

“I want to marry you.”

“You did that already.” She presses a kiss behind his ear. “Just over a year ago.”

“C’mon, Scully, you know. Properly. Flowers, your family, a dress you got from an actual bridal salon and not a Macy’s.”

Scully hums in consideration, mulling over their options. “We could do a vow renewal.” She suggests.

“A vow renewal?”

“Mhm.”

“And what would that entail?”

“Flowers, my family, a dress I didn't get from Macy's…” Scully echoes, pressing a teasing smile into his neck.

“And vows?”

“And vows.”

“Huh.” He pauses, curling a strand of her hair around his finger. “I like that idea. I have things I wanted to say last time that I didn't get to.”

She lifts herself up onto her elbows, hovering above him. “As do I.”

“Guess we better get writing.”

“I guess so.” She kisses him through her smile. They share giddy laughter through the affection.

***

Thank God Scully had selected a deep couch when she had moved to DC, because there’s room for both her and her husband to lay out across it, spooning while watching TV.

Her husband. Her husband.

She’s heard the phrase domestic bliss before, but hadn’t truly understood it until now, surrounded by Mulder’s warmth. His nose brushes the top of her shoulder, and he presses a kiss to her scapula.

“Hey Scully,” he murmurs into her shirt. Well, technically, it's his t-shirt, a fact that he had confessed interests him deeply to say the least, but Scully is the one wearing it.

“Yes?”

“Do you wanna make out?”

She looks over her shoulder and a wry grin. “You’re like a teenager, Mulder.” Still, she brings her hand to the back of his head and pulls him down to kiss her.

He allows her a closed mouth kiss before leaning back to tease her. And not in the fun and sexy way she’s hoping for. “Oh my god, Scully! Are we girlfriend-boyfriend!”

She snorts, “I think we skipped that step, sweetheart.”

“Do you like-like me?”

“Oh, shut up.” Scully rolls her eyes, but she can’t deny it. “Yes” She murmurs against his lips. Mulder’s shoulders relax minutely, as if a final buried concern had been put at ease.

He pulls back after a moment and takes in the image of Scully beneath him, her fanned across the pale couch and a lightness in her expression he doesn’t often get to see, but always cherishes. If he weren’t afraid of jinxing something, he would say she looked… carefree. Unrestrained, for the first time in a while.

“What?” She asks. He shakes his head and leans back in to kiss her again

“I’m enjoying domestic bliss,” he manages through the affection, punctuating each word with a chaste kiss, starting on her lips and moving down her cheek to end behind her ear. Scully breaks away to giggle. “Don’t laugh!”

“You just read my mind, is all.” Her hand on the back of his neck presses down, encouraging his lips down the pale column of her neck.

The mood… shifts. Mulder takes his as the sign it was intended to be, and lets his body press down into hers. A little sound comes from the back of Scully’s throat, spurring Mulder even closer into her skin. His tongue escapes his lips, daring, and making her gasp in earnest.

“Mulder.”

Now, here’s the thing. Mulder’s not a fan of his name. He never has been. Being called “Mulder” is mostly a necessity in the face of a first name like “Fox,” which never flows off the tongue. He has always liked the ways Scully says his name – whether it be laced with affection, or panic, or concern, or exasperation – more than from the mouth of any other. But now, when the two syllables fall from her mouth unwittingly and draped in the pure heat of her breath, his name sounds like a spell. Nothing has ever suited him more.

Mulder grunts, losing control for a moment and letting her hips buck against her body in a search for friction. Scully moves a hand to the small of his back to encourage him, and oh god–

The phone rings. The fucking phone rings. Or, more accurately, the not-fucking phone rings, because it seems like that’s where they had been heading before it so rudely interrupted.

Mulder leans back to answer it, because the alternative is listening to her mom or someone leave a message while he grinds his cock into Scully’s body, and that sounds like it might ruin the mood. But when Scully pulls his head back towards her own and says “Let it ring,” he can’t exactly say no.

Scully kisses him with an open mouth, her tongue sliding out to meet his own. When the phone rings out, and no message is left, Mulder thinks for a fleeting moment that he’s escaped the interruption. Unfortunately, it rings again almost immediately.

Mulder regretfully removes his torso from where it’s pressed against Scully’s, and leans across the back of the couch to grab the phone and bark a “What,” into it.

“Jeez, Mulder, who pissed in your Cheerios?” Frohike chirps from the other end of the phone. Well, at least it’s not Scully’s mom.

“Frohike I’m… I’m going to kill you.” Mulder’s tone is resigned as he rubs his hand across his forehead in exasperation.

It’s far from the first time Scully’s heard Mulder threaten his friend with bodily harm, but for some reason it makes her laugh uncontrollably.

“Now Scully is laughing at me. Look at what you've done”

“I think you did that on your own, bucko.”

Mulder rolls his eyes, and Scully leans up to kiss him one last time, this one chaste, before scooting to get off the couch. “I’ll get started on dinner. You talk to Frohike.”

“Okay,” he agrees dreamily, intoxicated once again by her lips.

“Was that a kiss sound?” His friend demands through the phone, “Mulder, was that a kiss sound? Is Scully kissing you?” His voice grows distant for a moment, like he’s moved the receiver away from his face to yell across the room at the other guys.”Hey guys! Mulder and Scully made kissy sounds!”

***

The covers are over their heads because Scully gets cold in their drafty bedroom but two bodies under a thick comforter warm her up quickly. Mulder’s fingers dance around the wedding ring on her finger. The one she wants, that she feels is holding her together, but that she fears might not be entirely safe.

“What?” Mulder asks, picking up the concern she bites into her lips.

“I don’t know how to say this without making it sound wrong.” She whispers.

“You aren’t going to keep wearing it here.” Mulder reads between her worry lines.

“I want to,” she says in a breath, honest as she’s ever been. “I’m just not sure it’s safe. There’s still the risk of being separated.”

“Yeah.” Mulder’s eyes dart away from hers.

“Mulder.” Scully moves her ring hand to his cheek and makes him look directly at her, “I want to, and I will at home, but I care about keeping you and our work more than what others think of us. As long as we know we’re together, as long as we have each other, that’s enough. That’s everything.”

Mulder’s expression shifts, and the rejection is chased out by something else, something familiar, but that Scully hasn’t been able to entirely read on him before today.

Over the past few days, Scully has done a lot of reflecting. Now, able to see through the fog of insecurity and fear, she can see Mulder’s love for her woven into his every action.

Scully thinks about the lines by Mulder’s eyes when he smiles at her. How his face brightens when she enters the room, how he glows when she arrives home. She thinks of little shapes drawn onto her skin, lulling her to sleep, reminiscent of letters she hadn’t been awake enough to weave together. It is then that she doesn’t doubt his love.

Mulder’s got a smile meant specifically for her. A Scully smile. She’s never realized this before.

He doesn’t look at anyone else like this. His eyes crinkle, the beginning of more permanent smile lines that she looks forward to watching form. The expression is so soft, so adoring, Scully is surprised she hadn’t noticed the warmth that blooms through her when his gaze lands on her and sticks to her back or her shoulders or, more recently, her face.

That is the expression he wears now.

“I don’t know how I never realized.” She says, pressing a thumb to the corner of his eye.

“Noticed what?”

“How you look at me.”

Mulder lets out a soft laugh, “I’m not exactly subtle. I think there’s a betting pool around the Hoover building.”

“If I’d noticed I would’ve…”

“What’ve what?”

“I would’ve done something sooner.”

“Oh.” This takes Mulder by surprise. “I thought you… had to be ready.”

“I’ve been ready for a while, Mulder.” Scully quietly confesses.

He presses a light kiss to her nose. She can feel the soft smile that forms, and wonders if she has a Mulder smile of her own.

“How long?”

“A long, long time,” she says. “At first I was…. not quite infatuated. Intrigued, I guess. I had heard so much about you, and the way you work fascinated me. It still does. And that just grew and grew, and the more I got to know and understand you the more I felt that we were intertwined, and I couldn't imagine my life, couldn’t imagine myself, without knowing you.”

“I think I realized I loved you when you came back from your abduction,” he whispers. “I don’t know when it actually happened, but I understood what it was when I saw your eyes open in that hospital bed and it felt like I could breathe again. When you were gone it was like all the oxygen had been sucked out of every room I went into, and it didn’t come back until I knew you were awake.”

Scully doesn’t know how to respond to this. She just pulls him closer to her, rolling onto her back so his head is pillowed on her collarbone. “I’m okay.” She mumbles into his hair. “I’m safe. I’m alive.”

He breathes deeply into her skin, taking in the comfort of her proximity, of her steadiness. “I know. Thank god for that.”

***

When Scully wakes up Monday morning, the bed is cold and empty. It’s not all that abnormal, but still disappointing. There’s a sticky note in its usual spot on the coffee maker, at least, signed with a “xx M,” which she is considering an IOU.

When she steps into the office an hour later, it looks somehow… different. maybe the colors are brighter. Maybe she’s just free. Maybe it’s looking at the way Mulder’s face brightens when he catches a glimpse of her silhouette in the doorway, stepping into their second shared space.

Mulder sits at the computer, and turns to her as she closes the door behind her with a click. He slides his glasses, his own for once, off his nose and smiles at her with that Christmas tree, I-love-you smile.

“Hey. Good morning.”

“Hi.” She greets. She wants, so badly, to lean down and press a peck to his lips, but she can’t. Not in the office. The new reality of their relationship puts their status as partners within the FBI at risk, even with her wedding ring buried beneath her shirt, and she doesn't want to play with fire any more than they already are. She lays a gentle hand on his shoulder instead, hopefully an innocuous enough gesture, and looks at his computer screen.

“So, what’ve you got, Mulder?”

“Disappearing body, right out of the morgue,” he explains. He jumps into his animated rant about the case he is proposing, clicking through the slides at his usual breakneck speed.

Scully watches her husband, her partner, her lover’s face as he excitedly explains the series of events he wants to investigate. She loves him, loves his passion, his dedication, his exuberance.

“So what do you say, Scully?” His eyes finally land back on her, eager for her feedback and ready for her to poke holes in what he has to say. He’s ready for her to challenge him like she’s been doing for years.

“What do you know about the victim?” She inquires.

“He was a 34-year-old EMT, a good one. He died in an ambulance crash.” Mulder provides. “His name was Leonard Betts.”

Author's note: hi! i don't usually put my notes on tumblr because they tend to be terribly long, but this fic is taking a hiatus so that i can write the next installment. not sure how long it will be, but i do have plans to continue it! thank you for reading this far <3

<- previous chapter

#fall into place series #the x files #fics #LTWrites #LTW: you are in love #.txt

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castiwls · 7 hours

Text

gulity as sin? - d.w

Paring; dean x reader

Prompt; 'Without ever touchin' his skin. How can I be guilty as sin?'

Requested;@lailawinchesterr & anon

Notes;i love dean and i love this song so I fear I got a bit carried away🫢 also lowkey maybe the spiciest thing I've written here

Masterlist | Taylor Swift masterlist

The sound of the motel room door clicking shut pulled your attention from the article you’d been slowly reading. “Hey.” Dean nodded before placing a bag down on the small table. “They didn’t have much but I managed to get enough for the next few days.” he sat down on the edge of the bed reaching for the remote as you hummed quietly in response.

After a moment you returned your attention to the article on your laptop the quiet hum of the TV fading into the background. Dean mindlessly flipped through channels for a while before letting out a sigh of defeat and placing the remote down. Turning to face you a small smile grew on his lips. Your brows were furrowed in concentration as you stared at your screen.

He watched you for a moment, his hands itching to reach out and touch you. Your relationship over the last few months was something you weren't sure how to describe. Whenever you were alone he was almost always all over you. It wasn’t often you were both alone for a long period of time before he was pulling you away from whatever you were doing with only a few words.

However, when you were in public he acted as if nothing had ever happened. Yet you’d noticed the looks he’d send over men at bars. The way he would shift slightly closer, placing a hand on your thigh almost in a silent act of claiming what he saw as his.

The thought alone left you feeling giddy. It left you with the type of excitement you’d get over your high school crush brushing against you in the corridor. The small glimmer of hope that maybe whatever was happening behind closed doors wasn’t just in your head.

But a small part of your brain kept nagging that you were imagining it. That you were simply making this up in your head and that his actions meant nothing and he was simply protecting you from drunken men. He didn’t see you in that way.

So why did he seem so different when it was just you both?

Kicking off his shoes Dean quietly turned around to sit fully on the bed. Too engrossed in your laptop your failed to notice the way his hand slowly moved a few inches until it made contact with your outstretched leg.

A small noise of surprise escaped you at the touch and you finally looked away from your laptop. Dean didn’t say anything as he silently drew shapes with his finger on your leg.

Your laptop now forgotten you stared down at him, your breath caught in your throat as you felt his hand slowly move up your leg. Quietly you pushed your laptop away causing him to finally look up from his hand.

His expression was unreadable as he watched you for a moment before he made his way up the bed towards you. This was far from the first time you’d been in this situation with him and part of you knew you should walk away now.

Stop him before he managed to pull you under his spell again. No matter how many times you and Dean did this song and dance it always played out the same.

Your breath hitched as he placed an arm besides your head, the other now on your thigh. He leaned in slightly causing you to slowly slip down the bed until you felt your head hit the firm pillows of the motel.

His hand slipped down from the headboard to beside your head as he quietly leaned over you. “You’re so beautiful.” His voice was quiet as he moved one of his legs over your body, nudging your own apart with his foot.

His leg landed in between yours allowing him to lie parallel to you, His nose brushing your’s for a moment. “Dean…” His name was a whisper on your lips as you stared up at him. A million thoughts ran through your head as you felt one of his hands gently brush down your body.

He shushed you quietly placing a small kiss on your jaw before placing another on your cheek. Moments like this fed that small glimmer of hope that whatever this was between you two was real.

The feeling of his lips on your face reminded you that he was real. That this wasn’t in your head. “Stop thinking so hard.” His lips brushed your ear as he leaned up slightly. “I can practically see the cogs turning in your head.” He shook his head fondly before smiling.

“You know you can turn your brain off sometimes right?” He leaned slightly closer his smile slowly slipping into a smirk. “How do you suggest I do that?” You whispered feeling butterflies erupt in your stomach.

His eyes fell to your lips for a moment before he met your gaze again. “It’s not something you can do.” You frowned in slight confusion, ready to snap back at him. Your retort seemed to die on your lips as he whispered. “But I can.” Before pressing his lips to yours.

It was almost like your world exploded as he became the centre of your universe. His lips moulded perfectly against yours as one of your hands slipped onto his shoulder.

The world seemed to cease to exist around you as your mind caught up with your actions. He’d never kissed you before. Sure you’d been close before but never this close.

After a long moment, he pulled back placing his forehead against yours. You barely had time to catch your breath before he was leaning in again and stealing it from you.

You weren’t entirely sure what this meant for you both but you did know it meant one thing. You were completely and utterly in love.

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holdmytesseract · 13 hours

Text

moodboard by @chennqingg | divider by @jiyascepter

Through The Years

Váli x Asta

Jotun!King!Loki Laufeyson x fem!Æsir!Queen!Reader

Summary: This story takes you and Loki on a journey through the twins life. From their first steps all the way to their first time falling in love.

Warnings for this Chapter: fluff, suggestive smut/light smut, first time, virginity loss? some mutual pining? supportive Y/N and Loki!

Word Count: 7k (Whoopsies... 😅)

a/n: Just like the last chapter, was this chapter also a very important one for me. I really love the twin boys and to give them a partner meant a lot to me. And I love how different Váli and Áki are. 🤗

Thanks to @fictive-sl0th for the hook-up lines.

❄️Chapter Five ❄️ Epilogue ❄️

Ice Flower AU Masterlist ❄ Loki Masterlist ❄ Masterlist

Chapter Six - Váli Finding Love

It wasn't the first time he was watching. He always was. Since the day the Asgardian ambassador stepped through the doors of the palace - alongside his daughter. Váli knew - was very aware that this wasn't how a prince should act. Hiding behind the thick stone columns and trying to catch a few glimpses of the beautiful young woman with her long, black hair and breathtakingly blue eyes. And yet, he did it. Especially after his father had introduced them. An event, from which the memories stayed present in the forefront of his brain; doomed to never be erased or forgotten...

"Son, come in," the king spoke with a smile on his face. Váli had just accidentally bursted into the meeting his father had - unbeknownst to the prince. "Apologies, dad, I-I didn't mean to, uh, interrupt." He answered almost shyly; taking small steps closer. Loki met him halfway, placed a hand on his shoulder, "Don't be. You couldn't know." and guided him through the big room the king called his study; until they reached the table - and the guests. "I want you to meet our guests, Váli." Loki started, and as if on command, the man and young woman stood up from where they sat. "Let me introduce to you… The Asgardian ambassador Sir Larsson." The elder man took a bow. "It is a pleasure to finally meet you, my prince," he said; giving Váli a smile. "And this young lady is Sir Larsson's daughter, Asta," Loki continued; gesturing to Asta. Váli's eyes fell on the ambassador's daughter - and he was immediately smitten.

Asta curtsied, "Your highness." and addressed him. Váli felt instantly how his hands got sweaty and his cheeks red. The prince wasn't used to talk to women. Unlike his brother, he wasn't a womanizer. Well, Áki was technically speaking a maneater - but the point still stood. "I-It's a, uh, pleasure to make y-your acquaintance, L-Lady Asta," Váli stammered out; internally cursing at how much of a fool he made out of himself.

That was the first time Váli was eye-to-eye with the beautiful, young lady - and he wasn't able to let go since. Whenever he saw her, it just sparked something within him... Interest. Not that Váli didn't have several love interests before, but the young prince was way too shy to make a move on them - and it was going to go the exact same way with Asta. That's what Váli feared. Hence, he was certain of it - if not a wonder was going to happen…

Once more, the prince lurked carefully around the column - but to his surprise, nobody was there anymore. Not the ambassador, not Asta, nor his father. He must've sunken so deep in thoughts, that he missed them leaving... He shrugged his shoulders; turned to leave - and almost crashed against another body. The prince's eyes widened to the size of plates, when his brain registered who exactly was standing right in front of him. "Hello, prince Váli." Asta.

"L-Lady A-Asta, h-hello, I-I..." He swallowed hard; knowing that he got literally caught in the act. "I-I, uh, it's not... Not what it looks like! I-I mean, yes, it is - but also not! I totally wasn't spying!" Váli stammered; trying to helplessly explain this situation. Asta raised an eyebrow, definitely confused. "I-I wanted to talk to my father, I... Excuse m-me." Before the situation could get even more unpleasant, Váli escaped and literally ran away.

After disappearing in the safety of his chambers, he pressed his back against the door; his head hitting the rich wood with a gentle thud. He had made a fool out of himself - like so often, when it came to talk to women, and especially Asta.

The days passed by, and Váli couldn't stop thinking about Asta - like usually. But whenever he saw her somewhere in the palace, he avoided her; too afraid of another collision. But he also didn't want to just 'give up on her', so the prince decided to do something he actually never wanted to do - but he saw no other way...

On the following day, he made his way to the royal training grounds. It was beautiful outside. The sun was shining and a soft breeze rustled the trees of Jotunheim. The perfect day for training. Váli wasn't there to train, though - but he knew who else was definitely there to train... And he was right. In the distance, he already saw him, currently lifting weights in the form of stones. To Váli's relief, nobody else seemed to be around, so he took his opportunity and approached his twin brother.

"Áki?" The warrior lifted his head at the call of his name; ruby eyes meeting Y/E/C ones. "Vál, hey. What are you doing here, huh? I highly doubt that you came here to train, do you?" Váli shook his head; coming to stand beside his bulkier twin. "No, I... Uh, I came here, because I need your help." Áki lifted a prettily heavy looking stone high up in the air, while eying his brother suspiciously. "My help?" "Yeah..." "And you need my help for...?" "I, uh, I..." "Vál... Stop beating about the bush and tell me what you need. We are brothers, for Odin's sake! No need to be ashamed." Váli sighed and ran a hand through his thick, blonde curls. "I, uh, need your help with..." "With?" "With a girl," he whispered, but Áki understood him anyways, and looked at his twin with wide eyes. "A girl?" "Yes, a girl." A small giggle escaped the warrior's lips, before he started to smile smugly; eyebrows waggling. "Oh.Ho.Ho! Look at that... My brother's got his eyes on a girl! Is it a wonder? Perhaps!" "Shut up." Váli grumbled and crossed his arms over his chest. That was exactly the reason, why Váli didn't talk about such things with his brother... He'd only tease him to death.

Áki let the stone fall to the ground and hit Váli's arm in a brotherly way, but this gesture made him stumble forwards and almost caused him to kiss the sandy ground. "Oh, come on, Vál! You know I am only teasing you. Now... How can I help you?" Rubbing his arm, the prince turned to face the other prince again. "I... I need you to teach me how to flirt and, uh, gain her attention. Please? I-I mean you are maneater - kind of, and I am... just me, you know. And whatever you did, it worked with Sađi, so please... Help me?"

Áki blinked. "I already told you, I was going to help you, but wow... That sounds really desperate, brother. But don't fret! We are going to make this!" Áki announced, smiling and wrapped his arm around his shorter sibling. "Now, for starters, I need to know which lady we are talking about. Do I know her?" Váli nodded. "Y-Yes. It's Lady Asta." Once more the warrior's eyes widened. "The ambassador's daughter?!" He wolf-whistled. "She's a damn fine woman, brother. You have a good taste; I must give you that. If I were into women, I'd definitely cast an eye on her, too. Lucky for you, that I am not." The shy prince's cheeks reddened. "You, uh, think so?" Áki smiled. "Yes, I do! Now, let's see how you can impress her, eh?" Váli nodded; fumbling nervously with his fingers, while Áki tapped his chin in a thinking manner. "Why don't you ask her, if she wants to accompany you to the ball next week? You can talk, dance..." He started, then waggled his eyebrows again. "... kiss." "Áki!" "What?!" "It's not really appropriate to kiss in front of all those... people!" The warrior shrugged his shoulders. "It never bothered mom and dad, did it?" "Yes, but mom and dad are married!" Áki shook his head, chuckling. "You are so... uptight! Loosen up a bit!" "Can we stop bickering and start... working on my flirting skills, please?" "Ahh, yes! For sure!" The warrior positioned himself; standing a few feet away from his twin.

"Now, let's see... Pretend I'm Asta and you want me to notice you." Váli grimaced. "Really? Do we have to do that on such an embarrassing way?" Áki snorted. "You wanted me to help you, so... Come on! Show me what you got!" The young man sighed, but knew that his brother was right.

Taking a deep breath, he approached Áki - who immediately stopped him again. "No, no, no," he exclaimed; shaking his head. "What?" "Your walk. It's so... tense and stiff. It looks like you've got a stick up your ass. Again… Loosen up! You have to be more... relaxed!" Váli swallowed; but nodded. "O-Okay, okay... I'll try." The prince did try, but he wasn't very successful - let's put it that way. Perhaps the way he walked was better, but the flirting? Definitely not.

"Good evening, Lady Asta. You must be a magician. Because any time I look at you, everyone else disappears."

Áki grimaced, "That's the best you've got?" then shook his head. "No. Try again." Váli nodded obediently and took a few steps back, only to walk them forwards again.

"Good evening, Lady Asta," the prince repeated; even taking a bow. "Is it possible that you are a rose? Because I want to pick you."

The warrior cringed. "Norns, no. Váli that's awful. Where did you get those lines from, huh?" "I overheard a few of our people on the market." Áki let out a deep breath. "Well, seemingly those people don't know how to flirt... You need something with more... impact. You want to impress her. Not scare her off. Try again."

And again, Váli started another try. "Good evening, Lady Asta. I was wondering... If I were the king, and you were the queen, in the cosmic game of chess, would you mate with me?"

Áki's eyes widened. "Wait, what?! Bro, you're confusing me." Váli blinked. "W-Why?" Áki took a deep breath; trying to maintain his sanity. "Alright, alright... We need to get this straight... You do wish to court Asta, right? Or do you wish to bed her?" Váli's cheeks turned beet red at his brother's words. "What?!" He shrieked. "I-I firstly want her to know of my mere existence!" The warrior with the long, black hair blinked; was even more confused. "But I thought you met her already?" "Yes, but... Not the way I want to." "Norns, give me strength," whispered Áki; pinching the bridge of his nose. "Okay, okay. Your 'flirtations' won't work. I can see that already. I think we have to try something else. Just... ask me for a dance straight away." "Straight away??" "Straight away." "A-Alright."

Both princes took positions and Váli started another try; this time asking 'Asta' straight away.

"Greetings, Lady Asta. May I ask for your hand in the next dance?" Áki raised an eyebrow; smirking. "You're probably going to give that poor woman a heart attack with that, but it's definitely better than the first few tries. Try again."

After another few tries and advices from his brother, Váli was ready - according to Áki. Being now more self-confident, the prince looked forward to the ball.

Three days later, the big day had arrived. The kingdom was bustling with maids and servants; everybody helping to get the palace ready. It was one of the biggest balls, after all. Váli, though, didn't let the stress get to him. He tried to stay calm and keep his nervosity at bay. He was reading almost the whole day; hid in the little secret room of the library. It was his safe space after all. But unfortunately, time passed anyway, and so it was time for him to get ready in the early evening as well.

The prince took a bath and got dressed in the best Asgardian robes he owned. While his brother preferred the Jotunheim fashion more - like their father, Váli preferred more the clothes that the Æsir wore - like their mother.

When Váli made his way to the grand ball room of the palace in Jotunheim, the ball was already in full swing. A lot of guests from each and every realm had already arrived; were dancing, talking and eating. Music played and it smelled delicious. The prince looked around, to check if Lady Asta was here already. He saw everybody but her. His brother, who was leaning casually against one of the front columns; dressed in his warrior garments and shamelessly kissing Sađi - who seemed to have a break at the moment, given the fact that he wore his cooking attire. Yes, the young Jotun had made it and was now the second chef cook.

Váli smiled. Seeing his brother so happy, made him happy as well.

Then his gaze landed on the very top of the ball room, where a pedestal was. Upon that pedestal were two beautifully crafted thrones, made out of stone - and on those thrones sat his parents. Of course. They were the king and queen, after all. The prince decided - how it was adequate, to greet his mother and father. So, he made his way across the hall; always watching out for Asta.

At the feet of the pedestal were standing two guards - for protection, for sure. When they saw the crown prince approaching, they took a bow and let him pass without saying a word.

You had already seen your son coming your way and welcomed him with a bright smile. "Váli, my dear," you greeted him and rose from your throne to wrap him up in a hug. You frankly didn't care in that moment, if it was appropriate or not. "Hello, mom." He hugged you back and pressed a kiss to your cheek. "Are you alright? I haven't seen you the whole day..." The prince could hear the worry, which was undoubtedly swinging within your voice. "Of course. Please do not worry. I just spent the whole day in the library, reading." You let go of him again, still smiling and sat back down on your throne. "I thought so." Váli gave you a smile as well and turned to the right.

"Dad." Loki - in all his Jotun glory, with the signature horns made out of ice on his head smiled and gave him a nod. "Son." It may have been a short conversation, but not less meaningful.

"Have you, uhm, seen Lady Asta? Is she and her father here already?" You exchanged a look with your husband. "No, son, I haven't, I'm sorry. What about you, love?" You shook your head. "No, me neither." It hadn't slipped your notice, that Váli's demeanour had shifted all of a sudden. He was fumbling with his fingers and his cheeks had become slightly red. He seemed nervous and a bit shaky. "But I'm sure they'll arrive soon. Why?" "Oh, uh, just asking, mom. I'll get myself a goblet of wine now. See you later." Before you could ask him more, Váli fled; clearly avoiding this conversation.

You watched him leave; almost hastily stumbling down the few steps, before he vanished in the crowd. Oh, you definitely knew what was going on here. Smirking, you reached over and felt for Loki's hand. After being married for such a long time, the king knew exactly what you wanted and took your hand; letting your fingers slip through his. "I think our other son is in love as well." "Mhm. He definitely is," answered Loki. "You saw it too?" Finally looking at you, he nodded. An amused smile was on his face. "Of course, my queen. And besides... Váli usually never drinks wine. It's quite rare for him to drink alcohol." You giggled, nodding as well. "I thought so, too. It's very sweet, though, don't you think?" "I agree, love. Asta is a fine lady. I'd happily take her as my daughter-in-law." "Me too."

A whole goblet of wine later, Váli finally saw Asta and her father. Swallowing hard, he knew that it was time to make his move. It was now - or probably never. On his way to her, he tried to remember what his brother taught him; mentally going through every sentence they practiced. Time was running out though, because suddenly he was standing in front of her. Asta had her back towards him; was currently standing beside some other ladies and watched the people dance - but nevertheless. Alone the sight of her back left the prince speechless; entranced by her beauty. She wore a dress. It was definitely made out of fine Asgardian fabrics. Long and coloured in a beautiful soft blue. Her normally long hair was made into a pinned-up hairstyle; leaving her shoulder blades bare. She was stunning.

Taking a very deep breath, the prince took his courage in both hands and approached her.

"L-Lady Asta?" His voice was slightly scratchy and husky - a sign of nervosity. The young Asgardian woman turned around immediately; curious and excited blue eyes meeting his Y/E/C ones. Her eyes widened slightly, as she registered who was standing in front of her. "Prince Váli!" She curtsied; lowering her head. "Good evening." Váli tried to smile; feeling his heart hammering against his chest. "Good evening, Milady." Remember your brother's words! Remember your brother's words! It echoed through his head. "Y-You, uh, you look quite a bit l-lonely." Oh great start, Lokison, great start! His mind sarcastically screamed at him and rolled its eyes. Asta frowned a bit; her eyebrows slanting softly. "I-If I may be so bold to say that!" The prince quickly added; almost shouting at her - before turning beet red. This wasn't going how he planned... "A-Apologies, I..." Ugh. Váli closed his eyes for a moment and took another breath, while Asta started to smile gently - unbeknownst to him. He is quite cute, isn't he? The ambassador's daughter thought; suppressing a light giggle. Thank the Norns he's just as bad as me, when it comes to conversations.

"This isn't how I planned this to go..." Váli spoke up again and reopened his eyes. "I... I actually just, uh, wanted to ask you if you'd like to dance with, uh, me?" He bowed to her and stretched out a shaky hand - like he's been taught. I made a fool out of myself, didn't I? His own voice echoed through his head once more; not thinking Lady Asta would accept his offer, but then...

Soft, smooth skin suddenly came into contact with his, as she placed her smaller hand into the prince's bigger one. Quite a bit surprised looked Váli up again. "I'd love to dance with you, prince Váli." He blinked. "R-Really?" A small, delicate laugh escaped Asta's lips; causing the prince's heart to flutter. "Yes." Not thinking he'd come that far, Váli was a bit lost at first, but then managed to somehow regain his composure and lead her towards the dance floor.

Taking a soft bow - like he was taught, Váli placed his hand on Asta's waist, while the other continued to hold her hand. The woman smiled; slightly blushing. Her hand landed on the prince's shoulder. Váli waited a short moment, before he started to lead Asta over the dance floor. Sure, he had danced with several ladies before, but this was different. He didn't dance with Asta because he had to... No, because he wanted to. It caused once again nervosity to swoop through his belly; afraid of failing to impressing her and make the wrong moves. It wasn't the prince, though, who had a bit of trouble dancing...

Asta was more nervous than it seemed. She was just really good at hiding it. Her father wanted her to take dance lessons as well when she was a teenager, exactly because of that reason. The problem was that it's been a while since such a handsome, sweet and kind man had asked her to dance and therefore she was struggling quite a bit. Of course, she could've denied the prince's request, but her heart spoke faster than her head did.

As hard as she tried to remember the steps and to focus, she couldn't prevent a few mistakes to happen. Stepping on Váli's feet for example...

"O-Oh! Apologies, my prince!" She scrambled; turning red. "I-It's been a while since I lastly danced. Please forgive my clumsiness." Váli just gave her a soft smile; his heart beating faster. They were in the same boat. "Please don't apologise, Lady Asta. I understand - and I must confess that I am not entirely sure of what I am doing either." His words made the ambassador's daughter giggle and both their nervosity to disappear. At least a bit.

They danced for a long time; having small conversations all the way. It seemed like they just clicked and at the end of the day, both of them felt that there was something between them - even if they didn't tell each other... But it was there.

Being now definitely in love, Váli made his way back to his royal chambers late at night; a happy skip in his step. Rounding the corner, he saw his brother leaning against the wall beside his door; a cheeky smile on his face. He had been definitely waiting for him. "Well, well... I see someone is quite happy." Váli smiled; though his cheeks turned red once more. "I am, Áki, I truly am. I think I never danced so much before on any other ball." His twin giggled, nodding. "I saw that, yes. Seems like my lessons were successful." "Successful?" Váli giggled almost deliriously. "Brother, they were lifesaving! Thank you so much! I owe you." Áki smiled and stepped closer to his twin; placing a hand on his shoulder. "The only thing you owe me is that you go and make that stunning lady yours."

And so it happened.

Whenever the ambassador came to Jotunheim with his daughter - which happened quite often, Váli and Asta spent time together. The prince showed her every nook and cranny of the palace - including the library and its secret hideout, of course. He took her out; picnicking, swimming, riding out and so on. It didn't take long for them to share their first kiss and soon they declared to be a couple. It took both of them a while, since they were a bit shy, but the ambassador, you, Loki and his brother for sure, were more than happy for the young couple.

"Where are you taking me, Váli?" Asta asked; giggling, as the prince led her to the Bifrost. Being on Asgard at the moment came in handy for the prince. "You'll see!" He answered, winking. "Now close your eyes and please don't open them before I say so. And no peeking!" Asta giggled, but nodded; then closed her eyes. "Alright."

The young woman felt the surroundings change around her. It became suddenly colder. A lot colder. "Váli, where-" "Shhh," he interrupted her; pressing a short, soft kiss to her lips. He guided her gently forwards and could feel something crunch underneath her feet. "You may open your eyes now." And Asta did, gasping.

Celebrating being a year together now, Váli had decided to take his lady somewhere special. Some place she didn't see every day. And the prince didn't even need to think long. He immediately remembered how stunned she was, when they were reading a book together about Midgard. About a place called 'Lapland', to be precisely. So, the prince took she there...

"Wow... Váli, that is..." Asta was at a loss of words; gazing dreamy into the snowy dreamland around her. "Stunning, right?" "Absolutely! Is it... Are we... Are we on Midgard?" Váli smiled; "Indeed. Welcome to Lapland." wrapping a thick coat - which his father had given him, around her. Not that she was going to be sick! The prince had no problem with the cold. Being half Frost Giant had its perks.

"Do you see that little cabin over there?" Asta followed Váli's gaze. "Yes, it looks cosy. What about it?" "That's where we're staying for the night." The woman's eyes widened in surprise. "We are going to stay there?!" "Mhm," Váli said; taking her hand, "Let's go!" and gently pulled her behind himself towards the cabin.

Said cabin was beautiful and super cosy. Made out of wood with big windows and a fireplace. It was in the middle of nowhere; surrounded by nothing but nature. Woods, snow and a frozen lake.

The couple spent the whole day in the snow; exploring, hiking and watching animals they had never seen before. Only in books.

When the night fell over Lapland, Asta and Váli got cosy in front of the big fireplace; gazing out of the big windows into the clear, starry night. Cuddling closer against the prince, Asta suddenly saw something blueish green flash over the sky. Her eyes widened. "Vál... Are those...?" Váli smiled; nodding, "Northern lights, yes." and pulled her closer against his chest. "Just like we read in that book..." Whispered the woman; stunned. After all, she had never seen such things before and neither had the prince - who was just as stunned. "Yes... I wanted to show you at all costs and then my dad had this idea and well... Here we are..." "That is wonderful. Thank you so much for this." Váli didn't answer. Instead, he leaned down and pressed a gentle, loving kiss on the woman's lips.

It was definitely a date to be remembered.

"So..." Áki placed both his hands on the wooden desk at which his brother sat; smirking. "How was this, um... How is it called again?" Váli looked up. "Lapland." "Lapland! My words..." The warrior's palm met his own forehead. "So, how was it?" "Good. Beautiful, actually. The Northern lights were exactly how the book described it. You should go, see it sometime." Váli got very excited as he spoke; being the bookworm he is. "Did you know, that Lapland-" But Áki interrupted him; wanting to have more... details. "Yes, that's great, but what happened?" He asked his twin, winking - causing Váli to just frown. "What do you mean?" "Well, did you... You know? Finally?" Váli blinked. "Oh, for norns sake, bro... You are way too innocent for this conversation, I see... Seems like I have to be clearer." Áki stated, clearing his throat. "Did you finally bed her?" The moment those words left the warrior's mouth, Váli's cheeks heated up. "N-No, w-we-" "No? Oh man... I guess I'll never understand that... How can you not bed the one you love? I slept with Sađi when we weren't even together." The other prince grimaced. "Yeah, ew, no, I don't want to hear that, brother. That's disgusting. Stop, please. I don't need to know how often you and Sađi... No, no, no. Besides, you are a whole lot different than me." Áki grinned. "That may be right, but may I remark, that you came to me for advice not so long ago?" Váli sighed and rested his face in his hands. "Yes, yes, yes, I know - and by now I regret it, because I'm never going to hear the end of this." Áki just chuckled, shrugging his shoulders. "Sorry, bro... That's just how I am." "I know - and I love you nevertheless." Áki smiled; true, honest ruby eyes gazing at his twin. "And I love you, too." Váli stood up and reached over to place his hand on Áki's shoulder. Smiling, they looked at each other; sharing a moment. "Now if you'd excuse me..." The prince said and rounded the desk. "I have a date." "Have fun - and tell me about it, eh?" "Oh shut up, brother." Áki giggled, as Váli closed the door behind himself.

"Thank you for this, Vál." The both of them leaned against the pillows in front of the wooden wall; bellies full with food. "No. I have to thank you. You are the reason it is so wonderful." Asta shook her head; giggling. Her cheeks turning pink.

"I love you, Váli Lokison." Váli traced his thumb softly over her cheek. His eyes were filled with pure love and adoration. "And I love you." The young prince lowered his head; brushing his lips against Asta's in a sweet, innocent kiss. The kiss didn't stay innocent, though... The way their lips moved against each other seemed to ignite a fire within the young couple. They had found themselves often in heated make out sessions like that - but this time... This time it was different. It felt different. Perhaps was today the day, Váli thought; feeling the nervosity swirl in his belly. Perhaps not. I don't want to force her to anything...

Chills ran up and down Asta's spine; and yet felt her skin like it was on fire. She never felt this way before. At least not that intense. It was a whole new feeling for the quiet woman.

Váli pulled her gently closer towards him then; needing to feel more. Consume the love he felt for her. The black-haired beauty was so lost in Váli's kiss and the wondrous feeling inside of her, that she firstly didn't recognise in which position the prince brought them in… Suddenly, she was sitting on his lap, hands clasped around his neck. Váli's soft, gentle lips were still attached to hers, kissing her ferociously - but nevertheless with so much love, while his hands were on Asta's hips, holding her in place. She didn't think much about where this could lead or what was about to happen - until she felt Váli's hands leave the spot they so lovingly held onto. His hands travelled gently up and down her back at first; causing another shiver to run down her spine. It wasn't an unusual move of him. Váli did it often. But what came next, was definitely an unusual, unfamiliar move. The young man's hands wandered lower, until they reached the hem of her summer dress. Before Asta's besotted brain registered, what was happening, had his palms already found their way to her bare calves.

It never went that far. Váli never did that before. Never. The young woman's eyes flew open at this unexpected, intimate move of her boyfriend, and the sudden skin on skin contact. It caused a soft squeak to escape her parted lips.

As sudden as she felt his cool touch on her hot skin, as sudden was it gone again. Váli pulled his hands away quickly; eyes filled with guilt and remorse. "A-Apologies, A-Asta!" He started to scramble for an explanation. "I-I didn't mean to do that! I-I got carried away! I-I should've-"

"Don't stop."

She spoke up suddenly, quietly - yes, almost shyly; interrupting him. The young woman felt how the blood rushed into her cheeks; colouring them in a soft red. Váli knitted his eyebrows in confusion; a short, loose curl of blonde hair falling into his face. "W-What?"

The moment of Váli's skin touching Asta's had sent a sparkling sensation through her whole body. It was strange and overwhelming - but also felt so good. So comfortable. So... intimate. She wanted to feel it again. She wanted to find out what would happen, if the prince didn't take his hands away. If he didn't stop.

"Don't stop," she whispered again; gathering all her courage to slip her fingers through Váli's - placing his palms back on her bare calves. As soon as his skin touched hers again, she felt another sparkling sensation rippling through her. This time, though, the young woman couldn't suppress the small, soft gasp, which left her lips at the contact.

The prince was at first completely perplex; not knowing what to do or how to react. But once he realised that she really wanted him to touch her like that, he started to rub slow circles in her ivory skin, using his thumbs. Her hands found their way around his neck again - just like her lips found their way back on his lips.

It didn't take long for Váli's hands to go on another journey. His fingertips danced over the skin of Asta's legs; wandering up higher and higher, and leaving a trail of goosebumps behind. His cool touch felt amazing against her heated flesh. Like a trillion snowflakes melted on her skin. Within a heartbeat, the make out session had turned more passionate... More intimate. Every touch; every kiss was like pouring oil into an open fire, and by the time Váli's hands had reached the underside of his girlfriend's thighs, they both knew that this could go way further than they had ever been. This realisation caused the young woman's violently thumping heart to skip a beat. Her whole body was buzzing with anticipation of what was perhaps to come - and she couldn't deny it... She wanted it. Wanted him. She wanted to drown herself in the love and pleasure only Váli would be ever able to give her. So, she followed that raging need inside her body and started to loosen the leather belt, which held his beige tunic in place. Her rather bold move caused the prince to freeze in all his movements. With a soft pop he freed his lips from hers and removed his hands from her thighs - in order to wrap them around her wrists, stopping her. Asta's eyes snapped up; locking her gaze with his.

Another gasp escaped her lips at how close she and Váli actually were - and the intensity his Y/E/C held. "A-Asta, I... We..." He stammered; voice cracking. "A-Are you aware of what you're d-doing?" The woman in his arms nodded. "More than aware, my prince." Váli swallowed - visibly. "D-Do you... Do you really want this? Me? A-Are you certain a-about crossing that line?" Asta just stared at him; eyes wandering from his beautiful orbs down to his kiss swollen, alluring lips and back. She didn't need to think about this. Her heart - and especially her body had decided on this a long time ago. She wanted to feel Váli as close as physically possible. He was all she ever wanted. He was the one. She trusted him with her life. Blindly. Undoubtedly.

She nodded. "I never wanted anything more in my life," Asta spoke in a hushed voice; staring deep into his eyes. "Please," she added, as Váli still hesitated; unsure if he should really indulge into this. "Touch me," she whispered rather sinfully in his ear then - which caused the young prince's insecurities to shatter. He let go of her wrists and cupped her cheeks instead. With his eyes filled with love, he started to kiss her again. Gently and lovingly, but also intimately and passionately. It was so sweet and intoxicating, it made her head spin; hands going slack against Váli's lower belly.

His hands found their way back to her hips then; glided slowly up to the zipper of her dress, sensually unzipping it. He slowly peeled the straps of the beautiful dress down her shoulders and arms; letting it fall to her waist. Asta started to shiver slightly, when the cool air hit her skin. Váli only intensified it, when his fingertips traced her almost completely bare back.

Once his hands returned from exploring every inch of her back, they came to rest on the clasp of her white lace bra. "May I?" He asked, being utterly gentle and polite. His father thought him well.

Once more Asta nodded; already unable to form any words. Váli tried to undo the clasp as casually as possible, but found himself struggling quite a bit. After all, the prince never did this before, so how could he know? While his cheeks started to redden in embarrassment, his girlfriend only giggled sweetly, before reaching her hands up to cup his. "Here, let me help you." With united forces, the clasp was undone with one quick move.

Asta's bra fell; leaving her upper body exposed. But to her slight surprise, Váli's eyes didn't drop. They stayed trained on her face. Instead, he leaned in to kiss her again; hands splayed across her back, before he pushed her slowly backwards; gently laying her on her back. Váli was hovering directly above her now, his face mere inches away from hers. So close, thar she could feel his hot breath on her skin.

One of Váli's hands started to gently tug at the remaining clothes covering Asta's body. His eyes spoke more than words ever could. He made sure that what he was doing is alright for her. It caused the young woman to fall even deeper in love with the prince.

She lifted her hips; signalling him to go on. Váli grabbed the fabrics and pulled them down her legs, leaving her now completely exposed to him. The prince sat back on his heels; eyes settling on her body. Out of instinct, Asta covered myself; shielding herself from his sinful eyes. No one had laid eyes upon her naked body... until now. It was the first time she was completely nude in front of anybody... In front of a man. It caused her to be even more nervous and very insecure all of a sudden.

Váli started to shake his head. "No... No..." He rasped; his eyes incredibly soft. They were seeping over with love. His hands reached for her wrists again. "Don't cover yourself, Asta..." He tried gently to pull her arms away. "Please," Váli whispered. "You are so beautiful." The prince sounded so intrigued and honest, it made her give in - and she let him pull her arms away. Váli's fingers slipped through hers, as his eyes raked up and down her body; lips softly parted. "Absolutely gorgeous..." He gasped and let immediately go of her hands again, to capture her lips with his, before he started to breathe gentle kisses all over her neck. It gave Asta back her courage.

She lifted her hands to work at the belt of his tunic once again; freeing his upper body from the fabric. Finally, she was able to feel his skin underneath her fingertips. Curiously, she let her hands wander over the ivory skin of his shoulders, back and chest.

Unlike his brother, Váli hadn't much muscles to brag with. His frame was rather lean. No bulging pecs or rippling abs. But to Asta, he was absolutely gorgeous. Perfect.

Váli moved lower, peppered her whole upper body with gentle kisses; leaving a burning, sizzling sensation behind. It was electrifying. Asta was floating somewhere high above the clouds. But then the rustling of fabric caught her attention... She looked up to see how Váli got rid of the last remaining clothing, which covered his body. In the blink of an eye, he was naked as well - and now hovering above her again. That went now a bit too fast for the young woman. She felt how the anxiety and nervousness took over her system. Her eyes widened; legs starting to shake. Asta quickly brought her palms up to press them against his chest. "V-Vál s-stop. Wait, p-please." Váli stopped immediately in his movements, literally froze in place. The emotion in his eyes changed. His Y/E/C orbs were now clouded with worry.

She took a deep breath; felt how the feeling of embarrassment bubbled up inside her body. And once again, the blood rushed to her cheeks. "I-I never did that before... I-I..." Váli's eyes softened upon hearing those words leaving her lips. He started to shake his head; a smile spreading across his face. To Asta, he almost seemed... relieved? "Thank the norns..." He breathed; causing her to look at him quite a bit confused. Váli noticed that, of course and started to chuckle. "Don't worry, Asta…" He spoke softly and leaned down to brush his lips across her ear. "I never did that before either."

His words send a wave of pure relief and calmness over the young woman, but it also surprised her a bit. "Really?" She squeaked up; staring with big eyes at him. Váli bit his lip - and nodded. "Yes, really." Her mouth fell softly agape; completely in awe. Honestly, she didn't quite understand this. "But... How, Vàl? I bet there were are a lot of girls who laid their eyes upon you..." The prince breathed out another soft laugh and shook his head again. "It is a valid question, but… I thought you might have noticed this already, but... I'm a very shy boy." She giggled at her boyfriend's words. It was undoubtedly true. "Besides, if there were other girls, they all would have the same catch..." That awakened Asta's curiosity. "Which is?" Váli's smile widened. He reached out to tug a loose, long black strand behind her ear. "They would never be you, beautiful." Asta's heart skipped another beat. "You will always be the one. My heart belongs to you since the first time we met." Her heart fluttered; the butterflies swirling like crazy inside her belly. She felt how tears started to form in the corners of her eyes. "Oh Vál, I..." She wrapped her arms around Váli's neck and pulled his naked body flush against hers. "You are always the one for me, too," she said with a shaky voice and held onto the prince for dear life, completely overwhelmed by her feelings.

The both of them just basked in each other's embrace for a few moments, before Váli straightened himself up again, so that he was able to look into Asta's eyes. He pressed his forehead against hers. "Are you afraid?" She swallowed. "A bit, maybe." He nodded. "Do you trust me?" Now she nodded. "With my life." Váli smiled and pressed a chaste kiss on her lips. "I promise you, that I will be gentle. Please stop me, if you need to, yes?" "Yes." He smiled even wider; his eyes filled with love. "Hold on to me," Váli whispered and kissed her again, before they dove together for the first time into the deepest abysses of pleasure; making sweet, sweet love.

After the bliss had faded away, Asta was laying in Váli's arms; cuddled against his chest. A toothy - almost delirious smile displayed on her face. One hand of the prince rested upon her back; tracing gently random patterns on the skin there, while the other hand was in her hair, softly massaging her scalp. Asta was completely relaxed. Her eyes closed; bathing in the aftercare Váli was offering her. She never wanted it to stop.

The prince leaned down and pressed his lips on her forehead. "Mmmh," Asta hummed; already on the verge of dozing off. He chuckled softly. "Are you still with me?" "Mhm," she answered; more asleep than awake and pressed a lazy kiss against his chest. Again, Váli chuckled. "Well, it doesn't quite seem like it." "'M sorry, Vál." He quickly shook his head. "No, please... Don't be. It's alright. Sleep. I'll be here when you wake up again." And he was.

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