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eraenaa · 2 months

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Gold Rush

Aemond Targaryen x Lannister Reader

Synopsis: Everybody wants you, and I don’t like a gold rush.

Warnings: Enemies to Lovers, Mutual Pinning, Jealousy ¿Simp Aemond?, Mature, 18+, Oral Sex (F & M receiving), Fingering, P in V sex, Face Sitting, Not Proofread

Word Count: 7, 912 (I may have overindulged)

Beauty worth their weight in gold, and it’s the greatest blessing from the gods that you have both. The only child of Lord Lannister. Spoiled and sheltered, you had never known hardships or troubles. Pampered in the halls of Casterly Rock or anywhere you go. You leave a trail of mystification, enchantment, and adoration. Suitors line up and beg to pay you tribute. Songs and sonnets are made just to entertain and encapsulate the beauty and purity you have for centuries to come. Commoners and Lords offer their lands, riches, and allegiance just to have your hand, and now, a certain prince dared to join.

When the words slipped out of your uncle’s lips that you should join your father in his visit to the capital, the Red Keep was abuzz with curiosity. The Golden Beauty of the realm shall grace their presence. They shall finally see and admire the being that has been coveted and praised for years. Prince Aegon was excited, to say in the least. He has been curious and titillated by your said charms ever since poets decided to write nothing about the allure and trance you placed upon men by just one look of your emerald eyes. His brother found it as a hoax. He frowned at how they exalt your name and praise you as if you were The Maiden Herself when, in reality, they only read or hear of you. He would scoff to himself every time his brother would reread the songs made in your name. He would roll his eye every time he heard gossip and talk about you from the maids and knights. He was certain that this popularity and recognition had only made you egotistical and vain— a judgment made and solidified in him despite not having known or met you.

When the day of your arrival came, his older brother was the first to greet you, whilst Prince Aemond stood by the window and watched from afar. He frowned upon Aegon’s actions greatly, paying recognition to a girl whilst ignoring his wife, but alas, his brother could not be reasoned to nor be persuaded to do his duty. Aegon was always easily swayed and distracted by a pretty face, and with beauty such as yours, the queen’s first son had turned simple. Aemond rolled his eye as he stood by the balcony, watching his brother tour you through the gardens. Aegon displayed a beaming smile and an odd blush on his face as if he were the maiden and not yourself. You simply kept a small, pleasing grin on your lips as the eldest prince kept on speaking and offering you flattery and compliments, trying to ignore the feeling of a gaze following you ever since you entered the palace walls.

You set your gaze above, catching the lone lilac eye of a second silver prince. You held his gaze, which showed contempt and agitation you did not know the reason for. When Prince Aegon had noticed your attention had shifted, he cast his eyes above only to see his brother with his brooding demeanor, almost scowling at the two of you. “That is only my bitter brother, Aemond. Pay him no mind, my lady,” Prince Aegon stated and offered his arm for you to take. Your eyes shifted between the two princes, quickly curtsying towards the one who stood above and the took hold of his brother’s arm before he hurriedly escorted you out of sight of the younger prince.

You were soon introduced to the princess, the wife of the elder prince. The princess’ presence you then favored instead of her husband, who had a gown quite… touchy and clingy. You stood next to the princess, who introduced you to her adorable children, babes tugging at the hem of your gown and pleading with you with their big violet eyes to carry them. Your heart grew soft and took the little Prince Maelor into your arms, smiling widely as the babe clung to your neck and buried his adorable face into your hair. “My son has taken quite a liking to you… he is most fastidious to other’s presence, my lady,” The princess smiled. “He is simply adorable, Your Highness,” You say and brush the silver hair of the babe. “He is… he quite reminds me of my younger brother when we were children,” The princess mused, her voice afar with nostalgia.

“Have you been introduced?” The princess then asked, “To whom?” You inquired, distracted by the babe who shifted in your arms. “To—Ah, Aemond! We were just talking about you,” the princess then exclaimed, the silver prince standing by the door. You turned your gaze to the prince you had not been introduced to yet formally. “Lady Lannister, my brother, Aemond,” The princess introduced, and you curtsied since more at the one-eyed prince while having his nephew in his arms. You hindered your frown as he said no word, only simply giving a nod and the action of his lips thinning.

“I was just telling Lady Lannister how much Maelor resembles you when we were younger,” the princess smiled. You turned to the prince, who tried to give his sister a small smile but looked more like a grimace. “The young prince is quite charming,” You smiled and turned to the prince, who stood before you, stiff and brooding. Aemond clenched his jaw as his eye caught yours once more; you are not at all chaste nor demure in the presence of royalty as any young lady should ought to be. You were perfectly comfortable taking a member of the royal family into your arms as if you were equal in rank. Aemond seemed to stand uncorrected with his early judgment of you.

“She is quite handsome… I always thought the songs they made were an exaggeration, but it seems to not do her justice,” Aemond heard his mother whisper to his sister, quite entranced by your beauty, and it would seem as would everyone present at the dinner table. Princess Helaena generously invited you to their intimate family dinner. His hand clenched around his chalice of wine as his brother shamelessly leaned closer to you and whispered something in your ear to cause a sweet, amused smile to play on your lips. “Are you not bothered by this?” Aemond could not help but as his sister. “About about what, brother?” Helaena asked, clueless and concerned by the agitated state of her younger brother.

“Lady Lannister, we are most glad that you are finally here to accompany your father,” the queen said, not allowing Aemond to answer his sister’s query. “Thank you, your Majesty. You have all been so welcoming to my presence.” You smiled and could not help but let your gaze travel to the one-eyed prince, whose contempt had been nothing but plain and quite obvious. “Of course, the golden beauty of the realm is most welcome here indeed,” Aegon then chimed in. “But may I ask why it is only now that you join your father to the capitol?” The queen inquired; your gaze flew around the table, eyes expecting your answer, except for the lilac gaze of the younger prince, who stared steely and harshly at his plate. “Oh… it is because my father and uncle wishes for me to be acquainted with the court… for they are planning for me to marry soon, your Grace,” You said truthfully. That is when you feel a lone eye finally place itself upon your frame.

The queen hummed and looked not at all shocked by your admittance; her children, however, shared different expressions from what you could read. The princess simply nodded with a ghost of a smile on her lips. The prince beside you seemed surprised and, dare you say, disappointed by your purpose of coming. And the prince across from you seemed… you could not decipher his reaction through his hard gaze.

When morning came, you were pleased to receive an invitation from the princess to join her in the gardens to break your fast. You followed a squire, and you were led to a table surrounded by flowers and greenery, three children of the crown waiting for you. A pleasing princess and her brothers, one stoic, the other drunken. “Good morning, Your Highnesses,” You greeted and bowed, surprised as the young prince stood and matched your curtsy, moving to assist you to assist you to a seat across from him. You try not to over-analyze his actions; just hours before, he seemed disinterested in you— animosity was heavy around him. However, now, there seemed to be an air of civility surrounding him.

“What are your engagements today, my lady?” Princess Helaena asked as she sipped on her tea, you stirred yours and replied. “My father was planning to introduce me to some of the members of the court,” You say and turn to acquire the last piece of candied lemon. “Some suitors?” The princess asked, her brothers not at all joining in the conversation, merely sitting around the two of you as if they were dolls. “I am not quite certain, princess,” You say and let your gaze travel to Prince Aemond, who stared at the candied lemon on your plate.

“Do you have a favorite among them?” Prince Aegon then inquired; you frowned at his question. “I beg your pardon?” You asked for clarification. “Does any of your suitors hold great favor with you?” He said and took a chalice into his hand so early in the morning. “I have still yet to meet them, my prince… but I was told that Lord Arryn’s son was quite handsome, and many ladies of the court seem to favor him,” You answered but was turned to the princess, the topic seemingly more appropriate for the two of you. “Ah, yes, handsome Lord Henry,” Princess Helaena said in recognition, “It is true that he is comely. However, I heard he is one to wander,” The princess said delicately. Confusion painted your face once more, and it was the second prince who clarified,

“Lord Henry is quietly known for his depravity,” Prince Aemond said, making your eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “Like our brother Aegon,” he added, smirking as that earned a giggle from his sister. “I think it would best if you stay far from the son of Lord Arryn,” The princess said, and you nodded along.

You spent the day being introduced to Lords and Ladies of the Court, but more specifically, their sons. You felt the constant drone of a gaze following you as you conversed with the prospects of your hand. Their faces seemingly merged, and their names eluded you, so you could only offer them your pleasing smile and mindless small talk and keep your hand on their arm.

“Do you not have to train, brother?” Helaena then appeared beside Aemond, who was hidden behind a pillar, as he observed you being acquainted with the eligible sons of the court. Helaena held a cheeky smile as she caught his brother’s actions. You had only arrived yesterday, and the princess was already certain that you had caught the attention of her enigmatic brother. It was plain to her the attraction and curiosity Aemond harbored for the golden beauty of the realm, even long before you arrived. Yes, the One-Eyed prince would scoff when his eye would catch anyone reading a pamphlet containing the written songs in your name. Still, Helaena noted that he was the first one to acquire the said pamphlets, religiously reading them until Aegon caught wind of a lioness whose beauty was hidden in Casterly Rock. As a result, the one-eyed prince hindered himself from admitting that he and his brother were attracted to the same girl. Yes, the One-Eyed prince would roll his eye in annoyance whenever he heard gossip about you in the halls, yet he still stayed and listened to all of them.

“Should you not be joining the line of her suitors?” Helaena teased, amused by the way her brother’s nostrils flared and his jaw clenched. Helaena waited for his reply, but none came. It was a rare occurrence for Aemond to not find words. “I shall see you at supper, sister,” Aemond gritted and walked off, leaving Princess Helaena amused and with new ammunition to lovingly tease her brother.

Supper came, and to Aemond’s displeasure or satisfaction, you were there. Seated next to his sister, whispering and giggling as if you were the oldest friends when, in reality, you had only waltzed into their life just the other day. He supposed that he should find joy that his sister had finally befriended someone, but must it be you?

Must it be you who had to join them in supper and be in his constant presence? Seducing and tempting him even though you merely just sat there— making him question himself and his honor as he watched wine stain your lush lips or the way you would let out a low moan at the taste of the pie placed on your plate. You were too much of a temptation, a trial sent by the gods to test his patience and honor, in which he was seemingly failing, for all he wanted to do earlier was cut all the suitors who dared touch you and now taste the wine on your lips.

When supper had come to an end, Aemond was quick to stand and had a great wish to retire to his rooms, but his mother had different plans. “Aemond, will you escort Lady Lannister to her quarters? A young lady cannot be left alone in the halls at such an hour,” You turned your expecting gaze to the prince, watching as his jaw ticked and his tense form turned rigged. It was alarmingly clear that he had no wish to extend such generosity to you, but still, he obliged his mother and offered his leather-clad arm for you to take.

You walked out of the dining hall in exchange for the corridor. Tense, suffocating air surrounds you and the second-born prince, whose reluctance was nothing short of obvious. You tried to make polite conversation with him as he walked with you through the never-ending, dimly lit halls of the Red Keep, but his replies were only a nod and a grunt. When you reached the door of your chambers, you let go of the prince’s arm, pride wounded as you were completely ignored and could feel unaccounted animosity towards you. “Good night, Your Highness,” You drawled, growing annoyed by the moment but still had the respectability to lowly curtsy before the prince.

Aemond gulped as you curtsied before him once again, giving him a heavenly sight of your bosom that made him stiffen in his spot. He knew that your actions were a sign of respect; he should take it as a compliment that you had bowed before him lowly, but every time you did so, all you did was tempt him more. You were shameless as you fashioned a dress with such a neckline, giving every man a sight for their desires to only fester. Now he knew why every man who had encountered you had been left entranced and obsessed; you were a vixen, a true lioness.

Days passed as you stayed in the Red Keep, and you could feel the constant and growing animosity and disapproval Prince Aemond held for you. You had no idea the reason for it; you could not recall what you had done for him to grow so callous and mean towards you. You would hear his scoffs of derision whenever someone paid you a compliment, and he was within earshot to hear it. You would catch him as he would roll his unique lilac eye whenever you spoke or offered your opinion or even when you laughed. It was such a shame that such a handsome and attractive prince was so vile and rude. You were growing impatient and irritated with him. On any other occasion, your course of action will be to avoid and not put yourself in situations that would require you to be near the prince, but somehow, the gods were cruel and had twisted fate to have you in each other’s presence constantly.

When night finally came and offered respite from the bitter prince, you sighed in your chambers and tried to find a reason for his contempt towards you. It was an odd feeling you did not wish to fester; all your life, everyone you met was quick to grow fond of you. You were quick to leave them enchanted by your beauty and charms. You named it as your greatest gift— your greatest power was how well beloved you are by anyone… how you could wrap them around your pretty little fingers, which is why the prince’s dislike for you had left you entirely unnerved and bothered. You were growing scared that perhaps your charms were slipping and soon, all too, would feel the same animosity the prince harbors for you. You could not find rest that night, fear trickling into your system. The prince had unraveled your deepest fears with just his quiet distaste.

You step out of your guest chambers and threaded the halls of the Red Keep, walking the darkened halls and trying to find distraction in the library. You walked straight and paid no mind if any soul was in the library because you were certain that no one else would be present at this hour. You were mistaken.

Prince Aemond frowned to himself, thinking his mind had placed a trick upon him. The image of you haunted him even in the dead of night when he thought he could finally escape your beautiful torment. But as he heard books being retrieved from shelves and the way your scent wafted to where he sat, he grew aware that the image he saw was no apparition. You were there, with him, alone in the quiet room.

Aemond took quiet steps towards you, the moonlight bathing you in its light. Your frame aglow, making you look more ethereal as the silver light lights your golden mane. Aemond clenched his jaw as the same prominent desire for you only bloomed tenfold. “You should not be here,” He gritted, standing at arm’s length. It was concerning that he was standing at such a close proximity and you have yet to notice. It only solidified his theory that you were so enveloped in only yourself that you care not about the world around you. Aemond bit his tongue as an amused smirk threatened to escape to his lips. You jumped in your spot and turned to him wide-eyed in fear. He had never seen a lion frightened.

“My prince… I— I apologize, I did not know that the libraries are restricted at these hours,” You said and closed the book in your hand. “It is not,” comes the reply of the prince, making a frown of confusion paint your face. You turned your entire frame towards him, peering up at the prince who looked at you with nothing but resentment in his cold lilac eye. “Then why shouldn’t I be here?” You asked with a tilt of your head.“You should be in your chambers.” Aemond gritted and removed his gaze from you because looking at you illuminated by the moonlight made him feel too much. He stepped back, but you matched his actions and stepped forward. He took a step back again, and you only mimicked his steps. It was an odd scene, a dragon being toyed by a lioness.

Watching Prince Aemond’s nostrils flare and his jaw tick again made you smirk, as he was clearly annoyed by your presence. “You do not like me,” you suddenly announced, making his shielded gaze cast itself upon your eyes again. “You do not know me, yet you do not like me… why is that?” You asked and stepped forward once again, leaving just a sliver of space between you and the prince. Aemond gulped thickly as you were just a breath away from him. Your scent evading his senses, your enchanting eyes assessing his every move.

“Oh, I know you,” He spat but felt his knees weaken when you raised your brow, painting a fake confused look on your pretty face. Siren eyes mockingly turned into doe ones, and plump lips parted in fictitious shock. “You do?” You asked. “You know me? I apologize, my prince, but I do not recall our first encounter. Please, tell me how you know me,” you rolled your eyes and finally let your annoyance slip, for you had enough of the prince’s judgment. The prince and you stared each other down, him not finding words as you had your expressive, scathing gaze upon him. He did not know how to handle himself— he was always silver-tongued and quick-witted, never one to be speechless, but apparently, that changed when it came to you. When pitted against you, he felt like the quiet, dragon-less little boy he once was. His raging fire weakened and turned to mere flickers.

You scoffed and shook your head, not wavering or stepping away from the prince, ready to retire back to your room, but he took hold of your arm and pulled you even closer to him. “I know you. You’re a spoiled… vain… flirtatious little brat,” He spat, and watching your eyes widen and fill with offense brought back Aemond’s confidence, and he once again gained his silver tongue and towering, imposing demeanor. He watched as your cheeks flushed and wondered how it would feel to touch them. Would it be as hot as the fire that burned in his veins?

“My father and uncle used to always speak highly about you… about how cavalier, genteel, and dutiful the second prince of the realm was— it is disheartening to be faced with a mean, calloused boy who had shown me nothing but animosity since I’ve arrived— animosity which I do not understand the reason of!” You retaliated and pried his hold off you, Aemond trying not to grow amused as you said the words with a stomp of your foot as if you were throwing a tantrum. “You want to know the reason?” Aemond hummed as you glared at him. “Yes.” You said and crossed your arms across your chest. Aemond caught the action and reminded himself not to let his eye linger upon the deep live between your bosom. He was certain you did that on purpose. You were calculated; you did each of your actions, knowing fully well that it would elicit a reaction from those around you that would only selfishly serve you and your vanity.

He could see it in how you interacted with the lords and other men, flashing your coy smile, batting your eyelashes, and seducing them with just a mere movement from your graceful frame. He could see it in how you toyed with Aegon, letting him whisper things to your ear, leaning in closer when the older prince spoke, and laughing at whatever meaningless word came out of the prince’s wine-smelling mouth. And you did it with him as well, the way your eye would hold his gaze, seeking him out during dinner and distracting him whilst in training. You were a shameless flirt. Someone who craved attention, and everyone seemed to be grateful to give you what you sought— except Aemond.

“Because you are a flirt— a tease. You toy with men because you were gifted with beauty,” Aemond seethed and that only brought a deep furrow on your brows. “I am no such thing!” You defended yourself, and the prince only scoffed and rolled his eyes. “You are. It is plain. You have them wrapped around your fingers— you know how easily an attractive face persuades them,” the prince said but frowned as he saw your lips twitch upward. As if his words and insults were a jest. “Tell me, my prince… do you agree with their sentiments? Do you find me attractive as well?” You asked and tilted your head, smirking to yourself as the dragon’s fire stuttered and backed away once more. It was a battle, each opponent taking their hits and reloading in time just to fight with the other again.

The prince gulped and felt heat rise to the tips of his ear; luckily, the reddening flesh was covered by the curtain of his silver locks. “I— I don’t,” He said and stood his ground, forcing his voice to be steady and scathing though he told a plain lie. “I do not find you attractive,” He said more firmly and slightly more convincing this time. “You don’t?” You asked and watched as he curtly nodded and thinned his lips. “That is good,” you mused and backed away from the little space you had given him. The prince’s brow twitched as you said your sentiment, as he heard relief from your voice. “Why is that?” He curiously asked his turn to step closer to you.

“Because your mother had proposed to my father that a union between us would be well suited; well suited to whom I do not know, but that is what she had proposed. Telling my father that she had needed to bring the subject to you to see if you agreed.” It was a nice scene to see the prince’s whole body turn to stone in shock. His thin lips parted, and his eyes held cluelessness and disbelief. You took the moment of silence from the prince to speak once more. “Well, it is most fortunate that you clearly don’t agree— it would save me from having to be in the presence of such a… prejudiced and bitter prince.” You relished the way you caught his hand clenched around nothing and the way you were certain he was ready to turn violent by your words. However, you still continued to speak.

“Though the title of princess is quite tempting, and I am certain I’d look exquisite with a tiara— I’d rather run off with the stable boy and live in squalor than live in a place with you.” You finished with a satisfied smirk on your lips at the murderous look on the prince’s face. When his lips parted and tried to speak, he flailed on what to say. That only added to your triumph. “Good night, my prince, Aemond,” You said in a sickly, sweet tone and lowly curtsied again before walking your way back to your chambers.

It should greatly shame the prince. His actions would haunt him for moons to come, but the moment you exited the library, and he was once again left alone, he succumbed to his desires and undid the laces of his trousers. Pulling his painfully hardened length and pleasured himself with the thought of you. Your scent still hung in the air, and your voice still rang in his ear, but what pushed him over the edge was the image of you curtsying, almost going to your knees before him. His mind was made then. Whatever act he had portrayed the past few days will quickly come to an end for he shall certainly agree with his mother that a union between him and you would be most suited.

You sat in disbelief and utter confusion as your father announced to you that a union between you and the prince shall take place. “Why? Wh— did the queen ask his thoughts on this? Or was it just your and Her Majesty’s decision?” You questioned as you recalled the night in the library with the prince. It had only been two days since the heated and angered scene transpired, and you had done your best to avoid him and his raging lilac gaze. “The prince came to me and asked for your hand. And given the conversation I had with the queen, I assumed that his proposal has her blessing.” Your lips agape, and you try to work out your objections, but your father cupped your cheeks. “You, my darling, will be a princess just like you had always dreamed of.” He said softly, recalling how you ran the halls of Casterly Rock with a tiara atop of your head when you were younger— always begging your septa to tell you stories of princesses and their princes finding 'happily ever after.’

“I shall leave you to get ready— it will be announced to the court later today, and the wedding shall take place in a week’s time.” He announced, making you stand in utter surprise. “What?! Father— Why so soon?” You asked in disbelief. “The queen wishes his son to be married before the king meets his demise. He wishes for the king to witness Aemond joyously with his bride,” You were stunned and were certain that joy would not appear from a union between you and Aemond, making the Queen’s wishes moot. “Now, make haste as you shall be presented with your betrothed!” Your father smiled and kissed the top of your head, and hurriedly left the guest chambers.

Aemond observed as your proud gaze was planted on the floor as they announced the upcoming union between the two of you. He was certain that news had left you in quite a state of confusion. The prince passed his eye at the sea of people, mostly on the men who had lined up for years and courted you, only to witness that the beauty they coveted was then promised to the dragon prince. Aemond’s look turned to his brother, whose jealous gaze was upon him, and Aemond couldn’t help but smirk. He then returned his gaze to you again, finally having looked up and locked your eyes upon him. Nothing but confusion in your orbs, and perhaps anger that Aemond simply found endearing.

“I do not understand.” You gritted as you and Aemond were given a chance of privacy to get to know more about each other before the wedding. You two were in the room of the small council, the queen, your father, and the lord commander standing by the other side of the door lost in discussion as you and your betrothed were about to thread towards an argument. “You and I shall marry each other; what is so hard to understand?” The prince retorted. “I suppose the saying is true… the more comely the woman is, the more she is simple,” Aemond quickly added, grinning at how quickly you were to grow red in rage. Your cheeks match the scarlet of your gown.

“Why, in the name of the seven, would you agree to this?! You and I are not suited for each other!” you whispered harshly, not wanting your parents to hear you quarrel. "And what makes you think so?” The prince hummed, stepping closer to you, tightening in his trousers once more as your plump lips were agape. “I haven’t had a civil conversation with you. All our interactions have been arguments— do you truly think that a marriage between us would work?” You asked incredulously, mind spinning at how abrupt, incomprehensible, and inexplicable the fates were. “You wish for a civil conversation? Let us have one then,” he simply replied and took a seat in one of the chairs housed in the long table separating the two of you.

You took in deep breaths and studied as he sat calmly, his hands placed atop the wooden table. You eventually took the seat across from him. “Why did you agree to this union?” You asked, your mind still replaying the scene in which he stated plainly that he dislikes you greatly. “Because I am in need of a wife,” he answered. You licked your lips and shook your head. “Why me, then? When you are perfectly aware of our shared… distaste for one another,” You said and watched as the prince shrugged. “Because…” the prince trailed, licking his lips as he was certain you would not believe what he would utter because he himself would find it hard to believe as well at how he had treated you since you had come. “I want you.” He finally said after a long moment of steely silence. The prince clenched his jaw as he heard you scoff, and a sardonic, melodious laugh soon followed. “You want me?” You asked, “What? You want to punish me? Make me miserable with a union with a man who hates me?” You added. “I do not hate you,” the prince sighed and rolled his eye as you stubbornly shook your head.

“Ever since I have arrived all you had done was glare at me, pick quarrels and squabbles. You had offended me right to my face, and now you say want me?” You asked incredulously. “They say Targaryens are mad… but I had hoped your mother’s blood had leveled your and your sibling's heads.” You mumbled and did not expect to see an amused look on the prince’s face. A beat of silence surrounded the two of you, staring each other down. A lioness with a confused scowl on her face, and a dragon who had amusement and content on his. “I still do not understand,” You said, and the Prince sighed once more.

“It was all an act,” he sighed. My animosity towards you—all of it was an act. A facade to protect me because when I saw how you interacted with the other prospects for your hand… how obliging you were with them, I could not stomach the fact that you would not be mine,” he admitted, letting himself be vulnerable for the first time in years. I… I do not like sharing,” he then added.

“I was five and ten when I read the first poem written for you,” he started. “I have not seen you… I have not a clue of who you were except that you were Ser Tyland’s kin, and you were of great beauty as they have written, and you already managed to make me grow curious,” You stayed silent as the prince continued on to explain. “I waited every week for new poems to be published… the songs in your name still did not receive much recognition— you were still unheard of by the others. I was certain I was the only one who bought those pamphlets; you were a secret for me alone.” You nodded along and rested your back against the chair, observing the prince intently as he spoke. “Aegon found the pamphlets and began to grow curious too… along with the entire kingdom, and I just did not enjoy the thought that I have to share the desire to know you— to be with you with other men,” He finished, and you bit your tongue as you did not know how to take the prince’s explanation. Was it flattering or puzzling? You had no clue. All you knew was your heart was beating loudly in your chest and your stomach was filled with butterflies.

“My uncle often shared stories of you and your siblings…” You spoke, your turn to share an anecdote. “As a child, I have always been enthralled by the idea of royalty. So he would oblige me and tell me stories of the Dragon Princes.” Aemond nodded along as your eyes were cast upon the wooden table. “He would always go into great detail about your brother, Aegon… seeing he will be king, but I was always more curious about you,” You admitted. “But he said you always kept to yourself, so he could not truly tell me stories about you, so I would make him repeat the anecdotes already told time and time again. On how kind you were with your sister and how dutiful you were to your mother… how you were brave and determined— ceaselessly training with the sword even if you had lost your eye. And if you were not training, you were adding to your scholarly knowledge.” You turned your gaze to the Prince’s exceptionally beautiful lilac eye, “I have been fond of you long before I have met you, my prince. Ask my father and uncle… or anyone in Casterly Rock, for that matter,” You said truthfully, watching as Aemond’s lips twitch into a smile

“I would admit; I came here with the hopes of getting to know you… that perhaps a match between us would fall organically and not one that our father and mother made.” You said and fisted the fabric of your scarlet gown as your heart beat loudly at your admittance. The prince licked his lips, “Should it matter how this union was made?” He asked, “Either way, in the end, we’ll still get what we both want,” Aemond stated, his whole being satisfied as he was not the only one who pinned over a person he was still yet to meet. “I suppose not,” you smiled as your impending nuptials with a prince you had dreamed of since you were a child was to come. The door then swung open, revealing your father along with the Queen.“I hope the both of you had gotten the chance to grow more acquainted with each other,” The queen smiled, already excited with the prospect of your marriage and for you to be her daughter. You were most fitting to their family; not only will her son gain an incredibly charming and comely wife, but her daughter too will gain a friend.

“We have, your grace,” You said with a small smile. She gave a pleased nod, and her smile widened, “That is good. Come with me, child. Plans have to be made, and you still have yet to be fitted for your gown!” She said and held out her hand for you to take. You stood and turned briefly to your betrothed; you once again curtsied before him. Now, a smile intended for him was placed on your pink lips, and Aemond’s longing gaze followed you as you walked out of the room with his mother.

The day of your wedding was quick to come, and you felt entirely giddy and excited about marrying Prince Aemond. Your father escorted you down the aisle, the eyes of the kingdom following you as you gracefully walked to your soon-husband, who had a rare smile on his lips. When your father gave your hand for the prince to take, you felt gooseflesh scatter throughout your entire body. Aemond looked at you adoringly throughout the entirety of the ceremony, not at all paying attention to the Maester who blessed your union.

Aemond was entirely impatient for him to announce you as his wife and for him to finally be able to kiss your lips. To mark you as his in front of the gods and the entire kingdom. And when that moment finally came, the desire that burned brightly inside the both of you only grew. Aemond was not one to show affection publicly, but he could not hinder himself as he cupped your cheeks to deepen your kiss that was witnessed by all present in the hall. Their screams and cheers faded and turned mute as both of your lips intertwined.

Suppressed desires could not be contained any longer as you and Aemond had finally had a taste of each other. There was supposed to be a banquet to celebrate your union; the Queen had organized the feast to perfection, and your father spared no expense for the celebration. But it was unfortunately missed by you and your husband as Aemond quickly led you to your shared bed chambers, both of you unable to wait for nightfall to be in each other’s arms.

“Aemond,” You mewled as he pushed you up against the stone pillar in your chambers. His lips kissed your neck, leaving his mark with every kiss, and his hands quickly untied the laces of your gown. You hear him growl as you boldly move your hand to cup his hardened length against his trousers, hesitant as you move your hand. “We should be in the feast,” You said but made no move to halt your pleasurable actions. Aemond shook his head, “Do you want to attend the feast, or do you want to be pleasured, wife?” He asked and watched with dark eyes as the sleeves of your dress draped down your arm and revealed more of your milky skin. “I want you, husband.” You breathed, and Aemond let out a pleasurable sound as your hold on his length tightened.

“Kneel,” Aemond gritted, and your eyes widened at his command. “Kneel and show your devotion to your lord husband,” Aemond demanded and clenched his jaw as you did as he asked, slowly going to your knees, your eyes still locked upon him. You licked your lips as you were eye-leveled with his bulging length, “Take it out,” Aemond commanded and tightly closed his eye as you did the action, your skin finally touching his. You bit your lip at his massiveness, at how well-endowed he was and how beautiful he fully was. You swallowed thickly as you recalled the books you had read in the dead of night, detailing how man and woman should be.

Aemond let out a strained sound as you placed a ghost of a kiss upon the tip of his cock, your name spewing from his lips as you peppered light kisses along his length. “Stop being a tease, little wife,” he gritted and felt his stomach tighten at the smirk on your lips and the view of you kneeling before him. Your dress had dropped lowly, and he could see most of your bosom that had been tempting him for days on end.

You let out a breath and to him to your mouth. You half expected yourself to be repulsed, but with each moment you had his length between your lips, bobbing your head, sucking harshly, hearing the moans your husband spewed, and looking at his pleasured etched face, you felt your cunt drip with want and anticipation. Aemond groaned louder as you fondled his other parts, thanking the gods for blessing him with you as his wife. Thanking them for their favor to let him be bound to the Golden Beauty of the realm. The prince breathed in harshly as the tip of his cock hit the back of your throat, the need for release in him loudly pronouncing itself, making him abruptly pull out. He could not be so selfish and let himself succumb to pleasure whilst you were still filled with need.

Aemond pulled you to stand, fervently meeting your lips once more, and guided you to bed. Your dress finally fell, and Aemond greedily took one of your tit into the hot cavern of his mouth. He bit the bud and elicited a sweet whine from your lips, and he quickly soothed it with his tongue and felt you clung to him tighter. Taking his other hand and guided it to you other needing tit to pleasure it as well. Aemond smirked upon your bosom at how in need you were of him. Aemond moved his lips to your neglected tit, and his hand trailed down south, your eyes rolling back and your hands fisting the back of his head as you finally felt his cold hands upon your needing heat.

“So desperate for me, little wife,” Aemond hummed in satisfaction. Your moans echoed throughout the chambers, along with the sound of your wetness as Aemond slipped his finger in you, his thumb circling the pearl of your cunt, earning more of your sweet moans. Aemond moved to kiss your lips again, feeling how tightly your cunt clenched around his finger. You parted your lips as you felt climax nearing, your wide, lusted eyes locked in with your husbands, but before you could even succumb to ultimate pleasure, Aemond stole away his finger. “Aemond,” You whined, but your husband only smirked and pecked your lips. Making you watch as he brought his coated fingers to his lips and sucked the essence of you clean.

Your mind was dazed and frustrated as he denied you pleasure. Your eyes followed him as he removed his tunic and lay nakedly on the silk sheets of your feathered bed. “Come here,” He ordered, and you hesitated for a moment. You took your bottom lip between your lips and did as told, moving to straddle him as he lay. His hands found home on your hips, urging you to move forward, and you furrowed your brows in confusion as your core threaded farther away from his length. “Aemond, I—“ Words were lost as the prince’s lips were met with your cunt. His hands forcing you down upon his face. Your head tilted back in pleasure as you rolled your hips upon his face, his prominent nose perfectly aligned with your nubbin and his tongue darting in and out of your tightness.

“Aemond,” You cried as your thighs were quick to shiver; release was finding you once more. “Aemond… Aemond…” You uttered his name like a prayer. With one flick of his tongue, you came undone, your moans ringing loudly that you were certain that it was heard in the halls but could not find care. Aemond had a slight smirk as he moved you closer to his length. Your eyes were still glazed from your climax, and your mind was so disoriented that you did not even realize that Aemond had positioned his length at your entrance. The sharp pain of your maidenhead being taken was the only indication you had that you had now sunk upon his cock.

Aemond relished at the sight of you atop of him, your cunt taking and squeezing his cock. Your breast was heaving, and your eyes were welling with tears. Aemond reached out and took your bosom into his calloused hands, kneading the taut, soft flesh— earning a pleasured moan through your pain. Aemond gave you the liberty to move whenever you felt comfortable doing so. He was an impatient man, but he savored every small movement you made as you clenched along his cock.

Your furrowed brows dissipated, and your mouth parted as the tip of cock perfectly hit the spot inside of you that made you see stars. Aemond’s breathing labored as you rolled your hips, seeking further friction. He moved his cold hands to your hips and guided you to bounce upon his cock. “Aemond!” You cried, and Aemond could only marvel at your pleasured face and bouncing tits; you squeezed him so tightly that slight pain mixed with his delight. “Are you going to come, my wife? Will you come at your husband’s cock?” Aemond hummed and sat up, placing his head between your ample breasts, greedily inhaling your scent. “Yes… gods, yes!” You cried as he harshly thrust inside you. Both of you meet your peak, Aemond spilling his seed deep inside your cunt and you clawing at his bare back and leaving your own marks.

“My wife,” Aemond hummed in satisfaction and nuzzled his nose against yours, a smile on your lips as your foreheads pressed as the cheers from the feast that you two disregarded were lowly heard in your chambers, “My prince,” You smiled and kissed his lips, your heart full. Your being wholly satisfied as you were bound to the prince that your young heart had wanted long before.

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kasagia · 7 months

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In the darkness

Pairing: Aleksander Morozova/General Kirigan/The Darkling x fem! Alina's sister! Sun Summoner! reader Summary: After you and Alina destroyed the fold, she killed Aleksander and became queen at Nikolai's side, you took the place, tittle and chambers of the General of the Second Army. And then... strange things starts to happen in the darkness. Warning(s): obsessive behaviour; toxic relationship; voyeurism; Aleks manipulates the reader, the reader gives in to him; the reader is alone and needs someone *cough* her Darkling; fight; violence; dark reader; Word Count: 9,2 k Taglist: @aoi-targaryen ~•♤♤♤•~ Aleksander Morozova's Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~

You won. Alina won. The fold did not exist anymore… as well as he. Ravka was safe. And the new royal couple was supposed to provide it with peace and splendor. That's what they were saying.

Nobody talked about the fallen. About the thousands of Grishas still living in fear. About thousands were imprisoned by Fjerdans and Shu-Hans who experimented on them.

All that mattered was that the Darkling was dead. The darkness disappeared. The shadows left with their last summoner, whose body he begged you to burn.

And maybe, after all, he was cruel. Maybe he knew that despite everything he had done, you still loved him, and his request (as well as his staring at you as if you were his only light and the only one thing he wanted to look at before his death) would completely break your already battered heart.

Maybe that was his last act of manipulation and control over you. A pleasure he couldn't slip out of his fingers. Maybe seeing you sobbing over him was the last goal he set for himself, before he leaves this world after the centuries he has lived. Centuries of constant fighting and flight. Centuries of leaving in his own shadows, in hatred, each time he looked at the fold, he was reminded that he wasn't able to achieve his goal.

That he was utterly alone...

Just as you are now.

Or maybe he just loved you, and you didn't want to admit it to yourself...

And now, laying on the bed in which he used to sleep, on the bed he used to hold you, on the bed he spent with you many sleepless nights and long, late mornings, you know that no matter what renovation this room will have, it will always remind you of him.

Your Aleksander... your equal... your monster.

You shiver as the cold, winter air comes to his... your room. You get up from the bed and walk to the window to close the door.

You look at the palace gardens and immediately remind yourself of the days before you found out he was Black Heretic, before that fatal Winter Fete.

Two years ago, Aleksander was chasing you around gardens, laughing, snowballs fighting, and doing all the stupid things he couldn't do in the daylight.

Two years ago, your life looked like a fairytale, and you were blessed to live in it. Now it is much closer to tragedy. And knowing how the events would turn out, you would have definitely cherished those simple, peaceful days with Aleksander by your side more while they lasted.

You sigh, absently stroking your right hand where Aleksander ordered David to physically embed the amplifier into you a few months ago.

You were pathetic. Missing the man who manipulated you, who hurt your sister, who wanted to kill your friends, who hurt Genya... but that was why you couldn't fully hate him. He did everything to achieve his goal. He hurt everyone who stood in his way.

Except you.

Never you.

And it hurt more than if he had physically hurt you.

He always held you up as his equal. The son of a bitch even had his kefta re-stitched to have gold embroidery to represent your power. He wore your combined colours with pride. Just like you did before you discovered how many sweet lies he had fed you since the day you first met him.

Tears come to your eyes as you remember how that fucking bastard, moments before Alina drove the shadow sword through his abdomen, lunged at his Nichevo'yas to stop them from attacking you. You saw the vulnerability and the fear in his eyes until your light drove the shadow monsters away from you. And relief, which was replaced by painful shock when Alina took advantage of his moment of inattention and killed him.

It had never occurred to you to hurt Alina before... except that fateful day.

You wipe the tears from your cheeks with your hand and turn to go back to the bed. You had a meeting with several colonels, including Fedyor and Ivan. The two were also torn apart by the war.

At least Fedyor still has his Ivan alive to atone for his sins. - you think bitterly, even jealousy, as you somehow manage to fall asleep in this big, empty, cold bed.

And when you close your eyes, the candle that was lit on the nightstand that once belonged to Aleksander goes out as you fall into a deep sleep.

If you had been a little more alert, you would have seen shadows that created a curtain covering the window, thus blocking the moonlight from entering your chamber.

"I have no intention of punishing them, Alina." you tell your sister as you work at the war table. Aleksander's plans were somehow still preserved. And you review them, updating and changing them according to your needs.

"They fought alongside the Darkling. What kind of general are you? What example will you set by not punishing those who defied the crown and followed their Black General?"

"That's why I have no intention of doing anything about it, your majesty. You were Grisha yourself before you lost your powers. Whose side would you fight for—the king who hates them or the general who gave them a safe place? And please try to put aside our personal prejudices and see the whole thing, not just a little peace through the prism of your hatred towards him, because we both know damn well that Aleksander was many things. A good commander was one of them."

"I never wanted to be a Grisha." Alina says this with pain in her eyes. You know this very well. You wouldn't have wanted to be a Sankta or general either... if it weren't for Aleksander.

"But you were. You can't just forget about that, Sol Koroleva."

"You're definitely not making it easy for me." she sighs tiredly, smiling at you. She sits down in the chair next to you and takes your hand. "If I could turn back time and... not bring Mal back to life and not lose my power, I would. I wouldn't leave you alone with this, you know, right?"

"I know... but that's not how things went..." you say, swallowing, as you let go of the papers and look at your sister. "But that's okay. I will keep an eye on your children and grandchildren... Maybe one of them will become the next Sun Summoner? Who knows?" you laugh, trying to lighten the mood, but by the look Alina gives you, you know that your tone wasn't as carefree as you wanted it to be.

"Y/N... I'm sorry." you interrupt her before she begins to pity you, before her compassion overwhelms you to the point where you sink into your own pain and suffering, which inevitably entails an eternity ahead of you. And that was just the beginning.

"You don't have to... I... I can always die somehow. I don't have to live forever."

"We both know that's not in your blood to give up. You will fight till the end... till Grishas and Ravkans will live as equals in a safe country."

"Maybe yes... or maybe I will throw it all to hell and go around the world. I remember that Kaz once proposed to me to join their little group of thieves. It could be fun."

You both laugh at that. Then Alina gives you a sad, apologetic look before asking you a very dangerous and… hurting question.

"Do you miss him? Aleksander?"

A dead silence falls between you after her whispering question. As if his name were something forbidden to say out loud between you two. You play with the sleeve of your white kefta with gold embroidery, wondering how to answer this obvious question.

"Sometimes... but I guess it's only because I don't want to... to be alone like him..."

"Did you love him? At the day I killed him?" she asks, assuming that you stopped loving him at the moment he stopped breathing; at the moment when his black, poisoned by Merzost heart stopped beating… as it was just that simple for you to forget about him. The man who made you who you are now. The man who was first to show you how extraoridnary you are. Who understood you more than your sister - your supposed closest person in the world.

"I care more to have someone by my side through all of this that's about to happen… someone who will stay for longer than almost a century. I guess I'm starting to understand why he was chasing after us… why he wanted us by his side in his damn glorious purpose."

"He was chasing after you. He only cared about you. Not only because you were a Sun Summoner." she says it so lightly and so obviously that you start to wonder if she's deliberately trying to break you.

But if Aleksander taught you anything, it was how to keep your true emotions deep inside your heart. So you put your lips into a mocking smile and reply to her in a joking tone.

"Maybe. We will never find out. Anyway, I don't want to."

Fedyor's and Ivan's arrival rescued you from this unconvenient conversation. You nod to Alina as she leaves. She gives Ivan a hating, untrusyful look before guards close the door behind her. You look at the two heartrenders.

"It's good to see you both. I have some questions about these plans, and as general Kirigan's closest people, I assume, you both can explain some things to me, which I don't quite get right now."

You clear your throat, trying to forget about what you and Alina were talking about and focus on what the two men in front of you are saying. But it's hard to look at the Dark General's notes and plans and just not think of your Aleksander... Especially when those damn wooden soldiers are just as spread out on his war table as they were on the night of the Winter Fiesta when you run away from him.

And you have neither the heart nor the strength to move it to another place…

"Fedyor, can you leave us both for a while? You can wait for Ivan behind the door." you say after you've gotten through most of the stuff. Fedyor gives you a surprised look but doesn't question your order. He goes out, leaving you with Ivan, who has been giving you an unfavourable, almost hostile look since he sat down in the chair. You wouldn't care if the situation didn't require you to cooperate with him. After all, he was Aleksander's right-hand man. He probably knew the most about war tactics in the entire Second Army. And now that the fold was gone and you had to defend and fortify yourselves on all fronts, you would need all the help you could get. "Why are you looking at me like that? What's your problem?" you ask the heartrender, watching him carefully.

You both stared at each other for a moment. Ivan tries to hold back something, but the moment he notices Aleksander's ring—the only souvenir you let yourself leave after him—something inside him breaks.

"How dare you sit in his chair, having his tittle, want to do exactly the same things in the Second Army, using the same tactics as he did? You all are no different from him. Actually, you are much worse, and you call him a monster when everything he did was for us. For our safety, so that we can finally break free from the power of Otkazat'syas."

"I know you were loyal to him, but..."

"He had done nothing wrong. And you know it." he cuts you off before you can say anything else. The feeling of guilt awakens within you again, the uncomfortable lump in your throat every time you talk to someone about him growing stronger again. "I hope you also know that you and your sister destroyed everything he was working at. That Ravka will spill blood under your rule. That Lantsov prince will be the same as his father, as every king from their dynasty was."

"Be careful how you talk to me. I am your general now, Ivan. You should probably get used to it, before I change my mind and let Alina execute you." you say it coldly and grab a glass from the table to drink the whisky. "You can leave now."

"Of course, general." he said coldly, but before he stood up to leave, he put a black envelope on your desk.

"What is that?" you ask him, but he just bows to you and leaves. Only when the door closes behind him with a bang do you allow yourself to take the envelope in your hands.

Seeing Aleksander's seal—the eclipsed sun—makes you release the envelope from your hand as if it was burning you. You let it fall to the desk; your eyes focused only on it.

You hold your breath as your fingers land on the seal and stroke it tenderly. You remember the first letter you received from him... right after your first night together, when he had to leave the Little Palace for a while on important matters. He wrote to you every day until he came back again, heading straight into your arms and ignoring the fact that the General of the First Army and the colonels were waiting for him in the council chamber.

With trembling hands, you take the dagger and cut the envelope at the top so as not to break the last seal he left behind and get into the contents of the envelope.

A pendant falls from the envelope with a clatter onto the table. You leave the envelope with the letter and take the pendant in your hands, looking at it carefully.

It is a silver, convex oval with some vines engraved on the front, decorated with small, round pieces (your favourite gemstone). Initials are engraved on the back: A.M. You huff, realising that even in death, he wanted to make sure you were his in some way. And you're about to put the pendant down and hide it somewhere, where you would never find it again, but then suddenly you press something and it opens.

You gasp as you see what's hidden inside. Bone. A medium-sized, most likely from a wrist, finger, or other small part of the skeletal system.

You rummage through the envelope, and, apart from the letter, you find a small note that was probably attached to the necklace.

In case you need a reminder of your real power...

You lift the bone and feel your power flow through you, amplified. You sigh, feeling just like those months ago when his skin pressed against yours as he let you draw on his empowering abilities. You feel a tear roll down your cheek as you tremble with an overwhelming, long-forgotten feeling.

A knock on the door makes you panic, opening your desk drawer and gathering all your items into it. You close the drawer just as Zoya walks in, followed by your colonels. You rub your forehead, mentally getting ready for the next meeting.

However, you can't stop thinking about the envelope and necklace from Aleksander hidden in the drawer.

And if you were more observant, you would notice how shadows are hiding in the corner of the war room, watching you attentively, waiting for the right moment when they can come out of their hiding place. Or at least a bee that flew out of an open window.

You lie in your bed late at night. You stopped trying to fall asleep a long time ago. You laied on your back, breathing calmly with your eyes closed as you were wondering about the new informations from the camps close to the border.

The war was comming. You had right. Aleksander had right. Fjerdans and Shu-Hans wanted to use occasion and attack Ravka, since a fold has gone and now nothing stopped them from attack a West Ravka. If you lost your ports and supplies of food, raw materials and gold, you will lose that war and many will lose their lifes.

You were laying there, wondering about your next move in upcoming war. You shiver suddenly, feeling oddly. A strange chill spread through your body as you went into a more alert mode.

Subconsciously, you look around in the dark, trying to spot the dark, familiar irises. You're doing it under some irrational delusion that he is able to observe you even when he is dead. That he can watch your every move even though you watched his body burn...

Although he has already proved many times in his long, many-centuries life that he is capable of anything he wants...

With a flip of your wrist, a ball of light appears in a room. There was no one. Just you and your paranoya You frown and remove the ball of light as you lay back on the bed.

You sigh heavily, lying on your side. You watch a candle burning on the nightstand on the side that used to be Aleksander's. You watch the fire for a moment, admiring the colours of the flame and how it goes along with a soft wind from the opened window, and then blow it out. You close your eyes, listening to your surroundings, and just as you're about to drift off into blissful unconsciousness, you hear something like a cold whisper in your ear, which makes you shiver.

They are going to lose. They can't rule this country. They know nothing about the pain of war.

That tought appear in your mind, sounding extremaly like somebody you used to know very well... you shake your head. You were not going to imagine his voice on your head. You weren't go mad, were you?

Besides, that was a stupid tought. You will figure it out with Alina and the rest, just as you always do. Grishas will be safe. You will sacrifice your life to make it happen. Horrifyingly, you realise that someone before you has taken a similar oath.

Yet still, you can't help but look at the side of your chamber where Aleksander's letter is, hidden in your desk's drawer. You are so tempting to read it, even after all that happened between you both.

"Get out of my head." you whisper to yourself, as he was still linked with you somehow. As he was still able to appear in a room with you at any second.

You missed him. You admit it to yourself in the darkness of the bedroom you two used to share. But that didn't mean that you would bring him back in some way. He was too dangerous for the good of other people and too unpredictable. Irronicaly, he cared too much. And you were afraid that you were inevitably walking in his path; you were in the same place as he was all those years and centuries ago. But, contrary to him, you will have no one by your side. You will be utterly alone.

You try fall asleep, closing your eyes and ignoring the tears that fall on your pillow. If you learned anything from Aleksander, it was to let no one witness your suffering. They wouldn't understand your pain anyway.

There were no others like you. And there will never be ever again…

Against your better judgement, you quickly get up from the bed, and, before you can change your mind, with a ball of white light in your hand, you walk to the desk, illuminating your path.

You open the drawer and pull out that damned letter, hoping that reading it will give you some kind of closure you need.

You hold it with trembling hands, trying to ignore the fact that Aleksander's familiar handwriting was less refined and more cursive and simpler. There were also black traces of his blood in some places on the page. Even before you start reading, your heart sinks as you think about how Merzost was slowly killing him, as he was completely alone after Baghra's death—as alone as you are now.

And the first line is enough to bring the first pitiful tears to your eyes.

Moya milaya. Moya soverenyia,

The damn bastard knew you would take over his position. He was probably having a lark in hell right now, watching you cry over his letter, how you regretted every decision you made that got you here, and how you tried so hard to hate him with all your heart, but you just simply couldn't. And that made you hate yourself more when, despite everything, you entered the trap he had prepared specially for you while he was still living and clutched the letter in your hands, trying to read it despite the tears constantly appearing in your eyes and blurring your vision.

He wrote to you what you have already heard. That he isn't sorry, that he would do the exact same things except that he would make you his equal, that he wouldn't let you escape his grasp so easily, that he would kill all your loved ones just to be your only shelter where you could go in case of any danger, or simply when you were too overwhelmed by loneliness, like he was many times in his very long life.

And you should hate him. You should be disgusted by this toxic relationship, by his obsessive desire for possession, and by his fear of abandonment. And you could already feel yourself being filled with spite and resentment towards this man, a man who had ruined the relatively peaceful lives of you and your sister... But as you read the last lines of his letter, your feelings towards him became more unclear than before reading that damn letter.

I will be waiting for you. With open arms.

Maybe time will help you realise that there is no other way and that my actions will be yours in the future… that I was not the villain in this story, even if I seemed to be a monster to you, my little Sankta.

Maybe you will finally come to accept that you and I are unity and that we belonged to each other even before the saints decided to create the two of us.

Eya fyela chi(I love you), moya solnyshka.

I always did.

Yours,

Aleksander

You didn't sleep anymore that night. Instead, you lie in bed, your thoughts filled with this damn man who, even after his death, continues to abuse your already bleeding heart for him.

Midnights become your afternoons, that were the hours when your brain works best. You stoped burning candles at night. Surprisingly, you were thinking much better when you were in complete darkness, where the only light comed from the moon shining through the open balcony door.

You spent many nights in bed writing in a notebook, taking notes and plans that came to you as the moon hung in the sky and most of the Little Palace fell asleep.

It has become your little ritual. You sipped kvass or whisky, thinking of military tactics and other manoeuvres in case Ravka was attacked by its neighbors. You often had Aleksander's old notes spread around you. And even more often, you twirled his necklace in your fingers as you pondered over your plans.

You stopped visiting Alina in the Grand Palace. You were less and less likely to be seen by her side. But you were almost always in Alexander's library, the war room, and the training field, looking after the young Grishas who trained under the supervision of Ivan, Fedyor and Zoya.

Without knowing why, you always waited until dusk. It was your favorite time and you couldn't even say why…

Maybe if you noticed that every time you fell asleep, tired, over your notebook, thoughts that didn't belong to you suddenly appeared on the paper; maybe if you noticed how your rooms were covered with more and more shadows night after night, blocking out the moonlight, to get you to sleep faster; and maybe if you noticed how the blanket wrapped tighter around you as you drifted off to sleep and your forehead was tickled by the touch of something soft and warm; then you would realise what was inevitably to come.

Or rather, who kept his eyes on you each night, hidden in the darkness and shadows of the chamber...

Kissing someone else's lips seemed sacrilegious to you. You felt like you were doing something wrong, like you were desecrating and breaking all moral laws. But after all, you were a free, single woman, a general leading her people to war.

You could have relaxed and slept with some handsome Inferni who offered to worship his saint, couldn't you?

As it turned out, you couldn't.

You kissed the man hungrily and threw off his kefta. The moment he reached for the buttoms of your own, he unexpectedly stumbled and fell straight into the spear that was in the rack for swords and other weapons.

You stood there in shock for a moment, wondering how on earth he did this. And if you had been more attentive, you would have noticed how the shadows quickly fled from your gaze, and two dark eyes watched intently as you helped Inferni stop the bleeding enough for him to make it to the healers' tent.

You sigh in frustration as the man disappears from your sight. You clean up his blood and wash your hands before taking off your clothes.

It gives you chills. Not because the cold air of the tent hits your hot skin, but because you feel a slight tickle at the most sensitive point of your neck.

You turn and look around the tent carefully.

For the past few weeks, as soon as you left the Little Palace, you had a strange feeling that something was fleetingly brushing against you from time to time. The feeling of this strange, ghostly touch accompanied you both day and night, whenever you were alone with your thoughts. You thought it was some kind of paranoia and tried to brush this feeling off. After all, no one could touch you if you were clearly alone in the room, with no sign of another living soul.

Once you're sure you're alone, you rub your hands over your arms. Your arousal and desire quickly fade as you remember the battle that awaits you tomorrow—the first as a general of the Second Army. You make sure your weapons and combat kefta are ready and in place before you go into bed and fall into a fitful sleep.

A few hours later, as you lie there, dreaming deeply, your tent fades to black. From the shadows emerged none other than Aleksander.

The man slowly walked towards you, careful not to make any move that would increase your vigilance. Ever since you left the walls of the Little Palace, it has become easier and easier for him to make his way to you, thanks to the bond he established between the two of you by giving you a piece of his bone in a necklace.

It boiled inside him when he saw you with another man. He acted rashly and instinctively, pushing him onto the spear. He was glad that you were careless enough not to notice his presence.

You weren't ready. Not yet.

And this time, he knew better than to push you forcefully into his plan.

"My little Sankta." he whispers, his hand gently brushing your curves hidden from his eyes under the blanket.

He doesn't do anything inappropriate. He would never take advantage of you or touch you against your will... well, at least not in any invasive way. He had several scenarios prepared in his head about how the night would go, when you would finally admit your true feelings and abandon the façade of a righteous Sankta of Ravkans and Grishas.

"Soon you'll realise what you're really missing." he whispers as his fingers tips caress the skin of your collarbones.

He picks up the necklace he gave you that you wore around your neck. He lets his shadows surround you, allowing the moonlight to shine on you enough for the silver pendant to reflect it, making it seem like it was glowing, as if it were a source of your powers.

"I will wait for you… until you finally come to me willingly and accept the obvious truth—that we belong together. I promise you, moya milaya, I won't let you forget this even for a moment. You're mine. You were mine the moment you entered that damn tent—the moment our eyes met before you went on the ship through the fold. You can't deny the connection between us. And soon, you will come to accept that you need a monster by your side. That without me, there will only be suffering, loss, and eternal struggle waiting for you. I've spent centuries struggling with all of this and much more… let's see how long this charming and annoying stubbornness of yours will last, lapushka. I have all the time on earth to watch you struggle with the hatred of this world all alone…"

He pulls the blanket tighter around you and takes the opportunity to inhale your scent, which he had missed so much during those months he had been hanging between the worlds of the living and the dead. He clung to his life with his claws... just to be this close to you again. And he knew he would do the exact same thing in a heartbeat if it led him close to you.

"And in time, when you realise that your little friends of yours are not enough for you, I will be back to you. And I will take you into my arms without hesitation. We are destined to be together. Sweet dreams, moya soverenyia." he whispers and places a tender kiss on your forehead.

You jump out of bed, screaming. You take a few quick breaths and put your hand to your mouth, trying to calm yourself down and not let the tears fall. Your tent is in complete darkness as you try to calm down from your nightmare in which all of your Grishas died in the battle, in which everyone blamed you and started to hunt you and chase after you, just like the king once chased after Aleks...

You let yourself cry silently into your pillow, unaware of the figure sitting next to you and a lifting hand that was just above you, moving as if stroking your back soothingly.

Eventually, you fall asleep, shaking. The shadow of your enemy and lover watches over you and keeps an eye on you without you being even slightly aware of it.

Two years, four months, one week and three days. That's how long the war with Fjerda and Shu Han lasted.

That's how long it took them to take over Ravka.

You have failed. Both the First and Second Armies.

Nikolai was dead. Alina was either dead or in hiding like you, although judging by the recent public execution of Zoya and Alina's other guards, you suspect they had her locked up somewhere until they caught you.

And they were doing very well, considering you were currently running through the forest, escaping from a group of Drüskelles.

You ran through the forest, the cold air stinging your hot cheeks as you made your way through the snowdrifts, occasionally sending a ball of light behind you to daze your pursuers and lose them, if only for a moment. But covering up your tracks was the worst thing—a nuisance worse than the cold seeping into your bones through your soaked clothes.

You hear a gunshot. You groan as the bullet bounces off your kefta, most likely adding another bruise to your collection.

Then everything happens quickly. You are surrounded and forced to fight with both your power and your melee. You're doing quite well when suddenly one of them twists your arm. You groan in pain and use one hand to summon a cut, but it is so weak that it only reaches the lesser half of the men.

As if in slow motion, you see one of the Drüskells pointing a gun at you. Then the clearing becomes dark. You step back in fear and stumble upon the body of one of the men you killed.

Everything goes quiet. There is a deathly silence in which you can only hear your wheezing and breathing. You summon your light and dispel the shadows to see the last person you expected to see... at least when you are still alive.

"But... I saw your death... I watched you burn..." you manage to stammer.

Aleksander just walks towards you, like it was a casual thing for him to do. His black kefta with gold embroidery is intact, at least compared to yours, which is blackened from bullets and patched in a few places. He looks practically like the day he died... except his face is devoid of black scars.

"Won't you even say hello to me, my Y/N?" he asks maliciously and extends his hand for you to take it and stand up with his help. You've seen this scene before. You've been in this situation before, and you promised yourself that you would never step into the same river again.

"You should be dead." you snap at him coldly and stand up on your own without his help. You see him frown as he takes a closer look at your dilapidated and miserable state as you try to move away from him as far as you can.

"Moya lapushka... do you think I would let something like death to keep me apart from you? That your little Sol Koroleva could ever kill me? After I lived a hundreds lifes? Fake a hundred deaths?" he asks mockingly, walking over to you. He cups your cheek in his hand and strokes it tenderly with his thumb. "No. I have too much experience with eternity, milaya. I promised you that you and I will change the world. I intend to keep that promise. As well as the one where I will always come back to you, remember?"

"You were here all this time... you watched me..."

"Simply keeping an eye on you." he interrupts you, and you give him a mad look, knowing full well that he's lying as you realise that all the random things and disasters that were happening around you were his fault... just like the few times you felt someone's ghostly touch on you. "Well... maybe I had also done a little bit more. But don't dramatise... after all, I have to look after what's mine."

"I was never yours." you say furiously, causing a hostile tension to arise between the two of you.

His presence brings you some relief, despite everything. But you know this feeling too well; you know HIM too well to let him manipulate you so he can use you in his plans again.

"Leave me. Live your life. I doubt anyone would be insane enough to resurrect you a second time." you growl angrily and run past him, hitting his shoulder with yours.

Before you can get away, he grabs your elbow. You hiss in pain, making him automatically let go of you. But he steps closer to you and carefully grabs your wrist, observing the blood seeping from your forearm and the swollen, bruised elbow—the result of your hand being twisted and falling to the ground—and the hard roots of the tree that had somehow broken through the now-red snow.

"You need a healer." he says calmly. He seems worried, as he is trying to stop the bleeding from your wound.

"I can handle it. Let me go." you say firmly. His dark-brown eyes meet yours, and you mentally curse yourself for how they can still charm you.

"Let me help you." he says it with such tenderness that you want to immerse yourself in his sweet words again, to surrender to that attraction that has always been present between you. "You don't have to be alone, moya milaya."

"I'm not alone." you deny quickly. However, you give in partially when the logical part of you allows him to give you a band-aid; this is something you are willing to accept from him.

"Aren't you, Y/N? Don't you feel a the weight of the fate of all Grishas on your beautiful, delicate shoulders? Haven't you misssed me all these single nights? When you were dreaming of my touch, of my voice..."

"And where were you when I really needed you?! When your people were dying on the borders! When innocent people died when they took Ravka! Where the hell were you then?!" you shout at him in anger and move away from him before he can tie a makeshift sling around your arm from the black shawl he untucked from around his neck.

"Making sure that YOU will not kill yourself, while playing a hero." he replies calmly, his gaze unwavering on you as his composure throws you even further off balance.

"If you care about me so much, why didn't you stand by my side? Why didn't you help me save Grishas?"

"You said yourself that you don't need a monster. That you can handle it perfectly well on your own, little Saint. I told you and tried to warn you that you can't do it on your own, and neither can I. But you had to be stubborn. These are your words: 'Let them come.' I did. I let them come. Are you satisfied?"

"You let all these people die to just prove your point?" you ask, shocked. He takes advantage of your momentary lapse in vigilance to bandage your arm and place it in a sling made of his black shawl.

"No. I let all these people die to make you see the truth that you are trying to avoid so hard."

"Which is?"

"Don't pretend, moya milaya. I am a patient man, but we lost enough time. Can you honestly claim that you are against me? That you would choose these fools over me again? That you didn't wish to have an equal again? Someone who will stand by your side no matter what? Someone who will protect you? I can be all of this to you and even more. All you have to do, lapushka, is accept that we are all we need. That you and I was enchanted to unite a long time ago. I want you to see all these things from my side of the story, to understand why I did what I did, and why I intend to continue what I have planned."

He talks so smoothly about death, as if it were nothing. And you would have the right to feel outraged by this fact and hate him again if the smell of the metallic blood of the people who hunted you wasn't in the air. People you killed without blinking an eye.

As he caresses your cheek tenderly and stares at you with affection and an understanding you haven't seen in anyone else's face since his death, you can't help but wonder... if he was actually right when he said that in time his actions would be yours.

He leans closer to you. Your noses brush as he rests his forehead against yours. You shiver, feeling his warm breath on your cheek.

"Aleksander..." you whisper shakily as his scent reaches you, his warmth warming your body, frozen from the cold and the exertion of running away. You feel like you're just realising that he's really here. That he's alive.

And you welcome the familiar tingle of your power inside you that he brings back to life with his amplifier powers as his lips capture yours.

And you wanted to move away. Really. You wanted to remain indifferent towards him and laugh at him for still feeling something for you. Scold him for even hoping that you would just melt back into his touch after what happened between you, how he hurt you, and how obsessive and possessive he was.

But all you do is moan against his lips as you respond to his kiss.

It's not one of those hungry, greedy kisses stolen in moments when you were completely alone and couldn't fight the growing tension between you any longer and just had to release it by consuming each other with your desires.

It's gentle, so much so that you're afraid that the butterfly feeling of his lips on yours will disappear in any moment and you'll find that he never came back, that he was just a sweet, cruel delusion of your exhausted mind.

But the moment he tangles one of his hands in the hair at the back of your head and puts the other on your waist to press you against the tree so gently as to not hurt you accidentally, you know it's real. And you can't stop responding to his kiss or pretending that you don't want to caress his lips with yours just as passionately. Or pretend that the thought of pulling away isn't sinful to you.

You pull away from each other after a long moment. Not far, though. His nose brushes against yours as you breathe heavily, both of you with your eyes closed, drinking in the other's warmth and scent after so many years of fighting with each other and your desires... after so many years of being utterly alone.

Your shaky breaths come out of your mouths in grey clouds and merge together. Only now do you notice how warm he is compared to you.

"Come. You can't stay here." he says, taking off his warm coat with black fur sewn to the hood. He puts it on you and pulls the hood over your head.

"You don't need to..." he interrupts you, picking you up in bridal style. He holds you close to his chest and walks in a direction unknown to you, a clear plan etched on his face as he scans the surroundings for any danger in your path. "Hey! Put me down! I can walk by myself! Besides, I don't want to go anywhere with you!" you protest, struggling in his arms.

"I know, milaya. Rest. I promise I won't do anything you don't want me to. I'm just making sure you will be safe when I'm gone. That's why I'm taking you to Grishas' camp. They will cure you there. Besides, your followers anxiously await your return, my little Saint. You are their only hope now."

"When you gone?" you ask slightly panicked and shift your gaze to him.

The weight of responsibility settles on your shoulders once again as you realise how many lives are counting on you... and the one person you can look to for support is, inconveniently, now something of an enemy to you.

But... can you feel towards your enemy the way you feel for him? Can you kiss an enemy as passionately as you did just a second ago? Can an enemy look at you with such care and adoration?

"Do you wish me to stay with you, lapushka?" he glanced at you briefly, just enough to ask you his question.

A dead silence falls between you. You don't need words to understand each other. And it was something that had always both terrified you and made the bond between you more and more irresistible. He knows the answer to your question. He knows you'll never admit it out loud. Or at least not at this moment.

Despite all this, he still holds you close. He leans down to place a kiss on your temple and whispers in your ear:

"I am... a very patient man, Y/N... I can wait, and I will. You will come to me yourself. And when you did... you wouldn't be able to resist or deny the truth about your feelings for another damn second. I will have you by my side. I can assure you that it will happen sooner than you think or are willing to admit."

You don't argue with him anymore. You just don't have the strength. Instead, you lean against him and fall asleep, wrapped in his scent, his warm coat, and his arms that make you feel safe. You decide to hate yourself later for what you feel right now.

After so many years, months, weeks, and days of fighting for your people and country completely on your own, you could afford the comfort of feeling his arms around you for just another few minutes, couldn't you?

It's been three months since you last saw him.

He left you at Grishas' camp just before the sun rose with a kiss on your forehead and a promise that you would meet again and that you would call for him again. Which you highly doubted. You already despised yourself and him enough to stay away from him... or at least pretend that's what you wanted.

During this months, you managed to save and lose many people—many good soldiers. And although you don't want to admit it, this time it makes you even more aware of the truth that Aleksander was trying to drill into your head before you destroyed the fold.

You wandered around like a child in the fog, trying to keep your morality, set an example for people, and play the role of a Sankta who abhors all evil and darkness. Only he had survived enough to know that morality could only be keept in human conditions—when you didn't have to worry about food, a warm place to sleep, or whether every breath you took wouldn't be your last.

But what really broke you wasn't the constant death, suffering, and screaming around you. It was the news of Alina's death.

It was this terrible emptiness, this feeling of helplessness and loneliness that grew inside you with each day, with each Grishas lost, with each drop of blood that soaked into your kefta.

And then you gave up.

"You won! Do you hear me?! YOU WON!" you screamed in your room at the camp after you returned from another mission to rescue imprisoned Grishas, which ended in the bloodiest of all. Which ended with the death of the last person you cared about. "Just come here… I can't… Aleksander, please. Please, I need you."

In your rage, you throw the bottle of alcohol against the wall and scream, falling to your knees. You wrap your arms tightly around yourself and cry, feeling the dried blood on your clothes.

You have enough. You had enough of this war. You didn't want to see your friends lose their lives. You were fed up with constant wars, fighting, and deaths around you.

You only knew one thing: you couldn't stand this alone. You simply must have had him by your side again Somoeone who will stay by your side and simply just be there for you. Someone who won't require you to save the world all by yourself.

"Aleksander, I beg you... please..." you whisper desperately while holding a pendant with his bone tightly in your hand. Maybe the fact that you never parted with that stupid necklace was a sign of what was inevitably to come.

Your failure. Your ruin.

But still, all you can do is melt into his arms as he comes to you through your bond and embraces you, pulling your shaking body into his lap and as close to him as possible.

"Shhh... it's okay, moya milaya, you are safe." he whispers in your ear as he holds you close to his chest with a hand on you mouth so you can make a sound. "As long as I am here, nothing will happen to you. You are not alone anymore and you never will be again, lapushka."

He strokes your hair and whispers words of comfort. A sweet nothing meant to calm you down. You still can't tell whether he does it out of love or because he needs you in his plans. And the scariest thing was that you didn't care as long as he held you, stayed by your side and didn't let you be alone.

If you were any less grief-stricken, you would wonder about the irony of this situation. The irony of how he foretold your fate. How he fulfilled his promise. How he became your only shelter.

"I will take care of everything. I'm not going anywhere. It is you and me, my Y/N. It's only you and me against them all. And we are all we need anyway. I will take good care of you, solnyshka. No more tears; no more lies and betrayals. Our life together is getting started exactly right now. And I can already promise you it will be an incredible future... moya tsaritsa. Ravka will be ours. We will free our people. We will made all of them pay for what they did to our kind. Grishas will enter their golden age under our rules. Nothing will stop us."

"Just... please come back." you sob into him. He tightened his arms around you and pressed his lips against your temple.

"I'm on my way, lapushka." he whispers, his lips brushing against your ear.

You shiver as the warmth of his arms suddenly disappears, and you're left alone, kneeling on the cold floor. You couldn't afford even the slightest remorse. All you could think about, and all you could wait for, was the moment he would come back here in the flesh.

You realised that loneliness was too dangerous an enemy for you that you (or anyone) were unable to defeat. Aleksander has been patiently waiting for years for you to come to this conclusion. A conclusion he understood the moment you fled the Little Palace with Alina and the crows, just before he could have a proper chance to propose to you.

But this time, he won't make that mistake again. He won't let you go of his grip once you came back to him.

The world needs a monster.

You understood his words the moment you created your own fold. A fold of white, pure light which killed anyone who tried to walk past it.

You saw the fear in everyone's eyes. Even your Grishas, whom you swore to protect. Only Aleksander's dark irises stared at you with admiration. Only he doesn't turn away from you, doesn't show any traces of dread.

Only he was brave enough to walk to you, and after that, he kissed you greedily after you all realised you won. Ravka belonged to Grishas. And the new fold that you create will make sure no one will ever think of attacking your people again.

And now you were standing in front of the mirror in the Little Palace. Your people bravely dismantled what was left of the Grand Palace and worked to rebuild the house of Grishas and expand it.

You were entering a new era. And the flags with the eclipse of the sun that now fluttered on the masts of the palace reminded you of that, as did your black and gold dresses, keftas, and the crown that had recently become an extra burden on your head. Just like two rings on your finger.

"I knew you would look stunning in the crown, moya Sol Koroleva." he whispers, making you shiver at his sudden presence. He wraps his arms around your waist, pressing you against his chest. Shadows circle lazily around you as his dark eyes catch yours in the mirror.

"You could at least pretend you didn't plan this from the beginning."

"I didn't plan it. I didn't want to be king. But when the dynasty kept taking advantage of us, I had no other choice. I had to start planning to take over the throne. Taking on the burden of power to make sure that the Grishas are finally treated as they should be. And then you appeared. My sunshine, my ray of hope, my little saint."

"A candidate for your queen and a means to a desired goal." you finish bitterly, resting your head on his shoulder to rest for a moment from the irritating weight of the crown. Looking in the mirror, you reluctantly admit that he looks handsome, dressing all like a king.

"Don't be so mean, milaya. You know very well that you shattered any evil plans I had for you when those lips of yours enchanted me. You made me feel like I could control it all for the first time in hundreds of years. That my plans will finally come true. We've come a long way, my Y/N, but we both know this is where we were meant to be. Next to each other. Equals. Together at the helm of Ravka. We are the only ones who will ever wield such power and who can stand next to each other forever."

You sigh. He is right. He is all you have. And you both know that you won't let go of each other anytime soon. You hated solitude. You knew yourselves so well that even for a second, consider leaving the only person who could ever stick so long with you. The ones who understood and were willing to share the burden the world put on the arms of the two of you.

So you turn in his arms, place your hand gently on his cheek, and after caressing his skin with your thumb, pull him in for a kiss.

He pulls you closer to him; you both need the other's touch and tenderness, the reassurance that after so many wars, fights, and betrays, you are finally together and that you will rely on each other to build the greatness of Ravka, leading your Grishas into the years of glory.

Not just as king and queen, tsar and tsaritsa. But also husband and wife. Partners. Equalls. Summoner of the sun and shadows united for the good of all your people.

"I love you, moi sol ye tselai. My Y/N." he whispers into the skin of your neck, placing kisses, especially where was the necklace he gave you, which you didn't dare to take off for so many years, afraid that the last connection and the memento you had left of him would disappear as soon as you lost it from your sight.

But behind these great goals was one common need, to which you agreed only for yourself. The need to love and be loved. The need to have a shelter that will last through the eternity that awaits both of you. And you finally had to admit that despite the darkness in your life and the problems and disasters mostly caused by your new husband, you couldn't imagine anyone else next to you.

"I love you, Aleksander. I've always have." you admit as his hands roam over you, caressing you. Shadows surround you, creating a protective bubble as you kiss passionately, forgetting about the rest of the world for a moment and you give in to your deepest desires.

The prospect of loneliness and everything that you went through in your life have effectively killed any sense of guilt or morality inside you. You could have allowed yourself that one selfish act. Especially when being with him in the darkness was such a tempting and blissful experience after years of loneliness.

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amoosarte · 2 months

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𝐒𝐎𝐋𝐄𝐃𝐀𝐃 𝐘 𝐄𝐋 𝐌𝐀𝐑, 𝐂.𝐒𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐙 𝐉𝐑

SUMMARY ! in which Carlos and his wife enjoy their little life in spain with their children but are somewhat a cute family dynamic !

FACECLAIM ! julia.hatchh, TROPE ! long lasting love !

It was no secret that Carlos Sainz Jr. wanted a family of his own. Growing up in a household that held so much love was all he ever wanted in the future. He and his sister were showered with love since well..forever.

Carlos thought of it all the time while holding his wife in his arms every night, in his eyes it would be a long night for him but he wouldn't nag about it. Carlos was a sincere man, he would shush his wife to sleep when she was overstress and tired, massage her hair to caress her to sleep, then hold her while looking at her delicate body.

Carlos would study the women that had catched his heart with just a look. Those brown doe eyes just looking at her like she was the moon, he was looking at her in a way a woman dreamed of. He was utterly in love with her, wishing to be by her side forevermore.

Lana was a woman that was soft spoken, a woman that would praise him for right about everything. She would shower him with love when feeling low. She was his best friend, a woman he could never get tired of.

When the topic of children rose in conversation, Lana became shy. She had admitted she did want a family with Carlos and said it was always a thought in her head. She dreamed of them having his eyes and his way loving. It had almost brought him to tears, twirling her around in excitement.

With that, they were blessed with a baby boy. His name soonly becoming Lorenzo Sainz, most of his uncles calling him 'Enzo'. A boy that look exactly like his mamita, but having his papitos eyes. He was and adored toddler until simply two years later he had his baby sister.

Carolina Sainz was her father's carbon copy with her mamitas eyes, and she was a daddy's girl. Becoming the princess of the Sainz family, with everyone adoring her.

Carlos decided that this would be enough for him, becoming traumatize with his wife pregnancy. Lana would admit both of them were harsh pregnancies but she didn't want to let her husband down.

Now they were a simple family living in spain, somewhere near a part of the ocean. In hacienda spanish style home, where both children live their childhood dreams.

"Caro, linda, estás listo para ir a ver a papi?" Lana said while making her son look presentable. Lorenzo just looked at his mother while she called out for her four year old daughter. "Si mami, me miro bonita?"

Although she looked like her father, she had a bit of her mother witty personality. "Preciosa." Lana smiled at the girl, sitting her down on the bathroom counter. Her silky brown hair were tied into pigtails, making her look absolutely stunning. "yo tambien?" her little boy said.

"guapo." She said before kissing them on their cheeks, staining their brown skin with a lipstick stain. "Listos para mirar ver a papá en su auto de carreras?" Lana smiled sweetly at them, watching them nod furiously.

They left the house on time, driving to see Carlos drive. It was somewhat special since it was a home race but if Carlos was being honest, it was Carolina's first time watching him race in person.

Trust that he told every soul in the paddock, and they loved seeing the spanish driver all excited. Though he wished it was under a better situation, Ferrari didn't extend his contract and he somewhat he needed to focus on landing on the podium.

"Well aren't you excited!" A very well known english accent rand from behind him. "You have no idea." Carlos smiled sincerely at Lando, making the younger boy laugh. "Is our princess coming for the first time today?" Lando was not going to express it but he loved the kids to an extent.

"Yes, and I must land on the podium to celebrate it." Carlos said half serious and half jokingly. Lando rolled his eyes playfully the wishing him luck.

Carlos had entered the Ferrari garage before a squeak called out to him. “Papi!” There she was the golden girl of Ferrari.

"Caro!" Carlos immediately crouch down to embrace his little girl, a large grin spreading like wildfire across his lips. "Papi! Papi! estoy de igualitas con mami!" Carolina let go of him and jumped before spinning around. "Si? Donde esta mami preciosa?" Carlos asked and right on que, Lana walked right in.

She was wearing white sundress with her red ballerina flats, looks gorgeous in his eyes. Then his eyes drifted to his son, cuddled in his mother's arms. Carlos sighed before listing his little girl up into his arms. "Todo bien amor?" Lana asked him, earning a smile from him.

"Se puso mucho mejor desde que te vi entrar.." Carlos kissed while she let out a small laugh. Carlos then felt a small hand push him off his wife, right beside him was his son looking quite annoyed. "¿No te dije que tu mamá no puede te cargar por tanto tiempo?" Carlos told his son who just stuck his tongue out.

"Papi, es tio cha!" Carolina squealed and ran to one of her uncles, who gladly picked her up. "Tioo cha!" Enzo jumped out of his others arms and ran towards his uncle. While the kids were occupied by their uncle and knowing colleagues, Carlos dragged his wife to his arms who gladly embraced him.

"Todo bien amor?" Lana asked yet again but in her soft honey voice, making Carlos melt almost immediately. "Solo estoy nervioso." He mumbled into her ginger hair, she then let go of him and walked towards Charles. "Can you watched them for a minute Charles?" She asked him, making him nod and go towards Alex to introduce the kids to her.

"Amor, no tienes por qué estar nervioso, eres un gran piloto, eres el mejor." Lana cupped his face after entering his driver room, making him relax a bit in her arms. She smiled softly analyzing every adoring feature on him, of course she saw bits of children in him and that made her happy. Carlos would say the exact same thing, he could only be so greatful.

"Dale gana, pero no olvides que te amamos." With that she kissed him on his nose. Carlos had laughed just a bit before lunging in to kiss her properly.

With his wife and kids encouragement, Carlos came out on 2rd, proudly standing at his home podium. With Carolina and Lorenzo screaming happily for their papa. Not missing how they ran towards him after his podium, knocking him to the ground.

What a cute family.

MENTIONS ! @landitolover, @moneygramhaas, @d6za1, @ch3rryknots @louvrepool @thearchieves

𝓂𝒶𝓈𝓉𝑒𝓇𝓁𝒾𝓈𝓉, ⟢ more!

#୧⋆｡🕯my stories!!#carlos sainz jr imagines #carlos sainz jr #carlos sainz #ferrari #married life #long lasting love!!#carlos sainz jr fluff #formula 1 #charles leclerc #charles lecrelc x reader #papa carlos sainz jr au!!#lando norris #lando fluff #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz jr x reader #carlos sainz jr blurbcarlos sainz

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vourequat · 1 month

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GENSHIN MEN courting you.

WARNING: This is a Filipino AU set in the Spanish Colonization period, so basically all of these are inspired by Filipino courting rituals.

Contains Diluc, Kaeya, Neuvilette, and Wriothesley (some of these men are hand picked because of the languages on the banner on top tehee.), fem!reader, age gap.

Diluc Ragnvindr (Manileño)

Being the son of a businessman, he was the highest regarded bachelor in all of Manila being that he was also rather good looking.

This man is not a big fan of romanticism and would often avoid it like the plague but his guilty pleasure was to read books in the romantic genre hidden away in the depths of his library, his trips to the book store was more often than usual and many thought that he's gone book crazy but that was not the case however.

You.

You were the reason that he's now the book shop's loyal patron, you were just a simple woman from another business oriented family. You were the typical Maria Clara to the spectators eyes, quiet and modest though that was not Diluc saw.

You were ambitious and rather messy at times but that's what he loved about you, your comfortability with someone like him made him feel that he actually was able to make friends of his own that his father had not told him to befriend for the sake of business.

That's when he started to grow feelings for you.

He was still stoic and expressionless at times but whenever he sees you, his ears visibly go red under his luscious red locks.

With the encouragement of his mother and the head maid of his estate, he mustered up the bravery in his entire blood line to go to your home with the intent of asking for your father's blessing to court you.

He was shocked to see that there were other men who were after you; from a Mestizo to a Sangley, they were all there waiting for your sweet yes.

But he had an advantage that didn't have; they didn't know you the way he did.

It started from flowers to love letters, he did everything that he learnt from the romance books he had read and basically copied every single gentleman in the books that women loved.

His very next move was to bring you by the lake that he had remembered that you used to go to as a little girl, it was a bit muddy though, ruining yours and his shoes but it didn't matter as he saw that you were obviously over the moon to see a childhood place again still intact.

He saw something that your other suitors weren't able to see nor willing to, they painted you as this innocent flower that needed corruption from them but to him— you were the most adventurous and the bravest girl he's ever seen.

"Yes." You laughed.

He raised a brow, "Yes what, binibini?" he asked.

"I want to be yours..."

Those very words made his heart race as if he just ran from his house to the nearest farm in the concrete city of Manila, he couldn't believe that his awkward attempts to act out the romanticism of men in books that women seem to love had worked.

"You're pulling on my leg..." He breathed out only to be wronged by her shaking her head.

And just like that, he ran to you and lifted you into the air. The adrenaline causing the two of you to fall into the mud, it was sticky and wet but it didn't matter to him even if his ivory white blouse that his maids spent hours on to perfect was ruined because his heart was now owned by the most perfect woman he could ever think of.

"So... what should we call each other?" He asked.

Kaeya Alberich (Español)

Ever since he has set foot in the Philippines with his father who governed the Philippines in the reign of the Spaniards he has never felt the sense of nervousness, back in Madrid, he had an image to uphold as a government official's son but now he can just let loose.

His move to the Philippines was the very start of his rebellion, he now probably felt like a normal boy like he dreamt of back in Spain but his father wasn't having it.

So to set him straight, he put Kaeya in the supervision of a prayle.

The first mass where he served as the priest's assistant he managed to oversee the entire service from the elevated stage where statues of saints and Jesus were all shown in the altar made of wood and gold. One of them was you, a really pretty Filipina who was praying religiously and singing alongside the child choir.

After the mass, he was about to gather his friend of rebellious teens until he was stopped and called upon the priest he's under.

He mustered up his most innocent boy smile until he saw you approaching, turns out that you were the goddaughter of the priest and he wanted Kaeya and her to be friends since she was the best candidate of friends that could place a good influence on him.

He was beyond bored, accompanying you and other nuns and worshippers as you all prayed to the virgin Mary. There he realized that convincing you to join him to the dark side was a hard task to do, you weren't that innocent but you were the most pure and truest girl he's ever met.

Sometimes you were sassy and very witty but he felt as if you really cared for him despite just being friends with Kaeya so that his father won't worry about him while he's away, with you he learned a lot of things, mainly that he didn't need to rebel to be free.

Most of the things he did was disobeying his father but it didn't do him any good at all, with his friends he learned to become a womanizer and to drink at a very young age. But it was weird to admit that you managed to fix him.

From table manners to memorising the entire prayers in the book in Latin, he learned it all from you. You were the only friend that his father approved of however, despite being a girl and potentially seeing his son in a romantic way not that he minded having you as a daughter in law.

Kaeya soon blossomed feelings for you, it started from helping around the church like you did and almost took your job from you.

He was still cheeky as ever, his teenager instincts causing him to want to create discord but you manage to dim it down with a simple glance.

Everyone loved your pairing, almost every single one encouraged you and Kaeya to start dating already and with the blessing of his father and your father, he began to do the cheesiest things.

You were confused if whether he was doing this to sway you or just flat out piss you off.

One night, you were sleeping peacefully until you heard something from the open window of your room. Groggily heading your way there you saw Kaeya and his goons of friends who some you recognized to be the sons of the farmers in your father's hacienda.

"This is for you, cariño..." Kaeya and his poor ability to sway women with his voice began to sing you a popular Spanish love song, he was hurting your ears but it amused you.

You stayed by the window sill and watched as he sang while his friends played a guitar or a drum made out of a bucket, they were all in tune with the original song but Kaeya seemed to have his own version.

"Oh my dearest... will you give this lonesome and poor little Spanish boy your sweetest yes?" He said so dramatically, maybe you should've banned him from reading Jane Austen or Shakespeare.

You laughed at his advances before giving him the shockest shock of his life, "Sure... why not?"

He looked like was about to faint when he heard those words come out of you, his friends celebrating behind him like a bunch of buffoons while he was still awestrucked.

"R-Really...?" He had to make sure.

"Yes, now come in and meet my mother before I change my mind." You've never seen this usually spoiled man who had everything handed to him with a snap of his fingers run so fast into your house and to your living room where he met your mother and your father, ready to welcome him as their son in law.

His father would actually faint if he found out about this though. Who would've thought that his son would be able to grab a girl like you?

Neuvilette (Mestizo)

Like Diluc, he was not one to meddle in with romance since he was very busy as a foreign law maker and businessman.

He only found himself in the ports of Manila due to a business pact with a bunch of Sangley's that offered a good proposal, he never thought of soulmates because to him it was just another myth for the hopeless romantics but it was quite ironic as he was in the territory of the romantics of the south eastern islands.

Soulmates were just plain bullshit until he saw you.

A young merchant who was heavily business minded, though it was the 1800s so no one took you that seriously and that's where your brother came in. He was the perfect bridge for Neuvilette to get to know you better, to get to know what fuels that fire that made you glowing like the blazing sun of the tropics.

Neuvilette manages to strike a deal with your brother however when he asks of you, his eyes widened— you were only twenty two while he was already in his late thirties.

A blossoming flower and a mature tree stump was not exactly the most ideal to some but just like nature, it works in different ways.

In one of his tours to the factory of your brother when he saw you show your amazing leadership and logical thinking skills, he admired every single bit of what you've presented to an oldie like him and you were really pretty on top of that.

You would look perfect together, two business driven minds and great skills in making connections— but you were too sweet for him.

You were still too young for his taste so he just waited for you to grow older, not that he expected some sort of miracle from the heavens that was until one day you yourself aroused the idea of secret feelings. You may have had caught up on how he longingly stares at you and how much he admired you so you wanted to know if he wanted an amazing advice for you.

The businessman was blushing hard, it didn't help that he was pale either.

Then he just pulled out a bouquet of flowers towards you, you accepted them of course due to how pretty they were but why did he give it to you?

"Can I... Can I court you, my lady?" Those very words started the long road to your sweet approval to finally call himself yours, he began to stop by the factory more and more to help around to make use of the time he had before he had to go back to France.

And when that dreaded day came, he didn't seem to forget you one bit. Every month your house was bombarded by boxes of love letters and other items that Neuvilette scoured the entirety of his motherland remembering that you liked them.

It took about three years before he finally got the time to go back to the Philippines to see how the joint business he had with your brother was going but mostly it was to see you of course, waiting by the dock was the familiar woman whose address he kept in his head like words engraved in stone.

Too much to his dismay he began to grow white hairs while you were just starting to greet wrinkles to your beautiful face. It made him insecure and made him think twice if he should greet you until you attacked him with a big hug when he was not looking, he took it as an opportunity to raise you up in the air to view that beauty he longed years for before hugging you back even tighter.

To the spectators, it was rather weird to see an unmarried duo be this intimate but it did not matter. Neuvilette didn't suffer two grueling years of courting her without even getting to see her in person just to be ashamed of showing his love for her.

"Sinasagot na kita..." trans: "I'm going to answer your question."

And just like the first time he showed his love for you, he grew pink and became more bashful by the minute.

He tucked your stray hair behind your ear before he leaned down to admire your beautiful eyes that he'd be lucky to see every single morning when he wakes up and night when he goes to sleep, he wanted you to be his and wanted his entire being to be in your hands, that was how much he loved you.

"And I'm not too young anymore..." Your witty comment making both of you chuckle before his laugh died down as he continued to look into your eyes.

"And I won't get tired of loving you everyday of the rest of my mortal life." He was about to continue his very sappy and sweet dialogue when your brother butted in with an all too familiar smile on his face, "So can I have my business partner now?"

Right, as much as you wanted to greet your suitor and now nobyo, your brother also was here to greet his business partner. Maybe you two will talk this out later on when you two have the time but for now, you were here for business.

Wriothesley (Probinsyano)

Being the eldest of his family, Wriothesley was sent to work at the Hacienda of a rich businessman near the city.

He didn't mind the work at all as he himself wanted to do something to help around the house in many ways possible, being family oriented and too busy raising his younger siblings, love wasn't exactly his first priority in mind until he saw you.

Your father was touring him and other new workers around the farm when he saw you passing by and conversing with your friends, so this was what all the craze was about city girls.

Every time you visited the farm while he tended to the horse stable he made sure to use that as a chance to converse with you, as you were in one of the shaded benches and reading he suddenly decided to approach you.

"Hi, ma'am... that's umm... a cool looking book" he started but he was a bit nervous, you seemed to be a smart collegiala while he can't even admit his illiteracy.

You couldn't fault him that he couldn't even read or write, after all, he came from a different life than you so you offered to teach him the basics and have him full access to your library.

He was a rather fast learner and you liked that as an impatient woman, that tutoring however slowly turned to a flirting session. You had to admit that Wriothesley was a sweet guy but he just wasn't your type though he was keen on changing that.

From a bag of apples he gathered from the apple orchard to a wheel of cheese that he and his fellow workers managed to create from the left over cow milk they harvested, he did everything he can and did what he knew to sway a woman just to change your mind.

You loved his attitude and insistent nature, you were starting to like him but you just wanted to play with him and pretended to not be so impressed until you surprised him with a surprise visit to your father.

The man was shaking like crazy when he met his boss in a more relaxed setting, it was just him and your father all alone.

"So you like my daughter?" Your father started.

"I- uh...—" Before he could even answer, your father cut him off.

"And I want you to be my son in law."

Wriothesley had to check twice if he heard his boss right, he had been working under him for about a couple years now and your father saw his hardwork around the farm and trying to woo you to accept his offer of love.

"But... you need to make that cheese you made again last time, it was delicious..." Now, with your father's blessing, he gathered his friends to create the same wheel of cheese for your father to further prove that he was serious with you but he did most of the hardwork as he was motivated by you.

While he was busy molding the cheese into shape, you decided to pay a visit and stopped by his friends who were watching him from afar after helping him gather excess milk from the cows.

"That man's head over heels for you, ma'am" one of them said.

You laughed, "I know... the feelings are mutual."

"Creativity comes from those who have a lot of responsibilities but refuses to do them" — Veritas Ratio, the philosopher, probably.

A/N: I am not swaying my feet while writing this, never. And I'm running out of ideas so I may make more Filipino AUs of characters I like to make fanfics of and will probably make text AUs because I'm getting obsessed with the ones on Tiktok.

Trans: Good morning, my love. Go and eat breakfast mwah!!!

#genshin impact #genshin impact fanfic #genshin headcanons #genshin men #genshin diluc #diluc x reader #kaeya alberich #kaeya x reader #neuvilette fanfic #genshin neuvillette #wriothesley #wriothesley x reader #filipino AU

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rogueddie · 2 years

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Steve has always been confused when people describe family- the structure, what it means to them, any of it. His parents were always distant with him. The babysitters they hired weren't any better.

He's never really considered family important or significant. It's a meaningless word to him. He has his relatives and that's it. He doesn't have any family, not the way people describe it as anyway.

Well. He used to think like that. He thought like that for a while and, for most of that time, he was right. But it very quickly turned around.

It started with Dustin.

The kid was clearly in awe of Steve. Steve had seen it clear as day and found himself desperate to keep him safe. And he did- he worked hard to keep the brat alive, despite repeated efforts to undermine that. And Dustin is so fiercely loyal.

"You die, I die!" Dustin had yelled at him once.

Steve had stared at him, with a sudden cold realization; he loves Dustin. The kid is his family. A weird mix between a little brother and a son. And Dustin clearly felt just as strong for him.

He already knew how ready he was to die for Dustin. He knew now, without a doubt, that nothing would be able to stop him from keeping him safe.

But, he reasoned, one pseudo-kid is enough.

Then Lucas had turned to him one summer. He wanted to get into basketball and knew Steve used to play. It was supposed to be simple practices, some tips and things like that. Nothing special, just advice between friends. Because that's all they were, at the time.

Over the summer, with all the time spent together, they quickly because good friends. And, again, Steve kept telling himself that it's just that. Friends. He's already got a weird pseudo-kid with Dustin.

Watching the game, however, quickly shatters that illusion. As soon as Lucas had stepped onto the court, Steve thought; "thats my kid!"

And Steve thought having one kid was a blessing- a horrible, sarcastic, needy blessing but a blessing none-the-less. Having two is chaotic, but oddly comforting. They're both so different and fill spaces in his heart he hadn't known were empty. They're more family than Steve had ever thought he'd be allowed to have.

But Max had quickly stepping into the picture.

There was always something about her that made Steve feel even more protective. Their first real time spent together being that van, the demodogs, definitely didn't help. He doesn't think he'll ever forget hearing her scream. He doesn't think he's ever moved as fast as he had then.

Seeing Billy getting aggressive with Lucas had only heightened it all. He'd only known Max a few days when he realized that she would never be able to shake him now.

Even when Max tried to push him away, after Billys death, saying the cruelest things she could thing of to get him to back off, he hadn't. He'd simply started to call her parents instead, made sure they knew if they needed anything, if Max ever wanted to vent to him again, he's still there. He's still waiting.

Seeing her in a hospital dead, essentially dead just… it feels like someone has shoved their arm down his throat and pulled his lungs out. Like someone has taken something so vital...

The only comfort, the only person who seems to settle him, is Eddie Munson. But... Eddie isn't part of his little pseudo-family. He wants him to be. He doesn't. It's... confusing. Because he likes Eddie.

Eddie, who lets Steve hold his fingers to his wrist so he can feel his pulse. Eddie, who insists on being moved into a wheelchair so Steve isn't sat in Maxs room alone. Eddie, who doesn't let anyone make Steve go home even though he probably should. Eddie, who looks at Steve like he hasn't failed him or the kids.

One day, Steve asks. He has to, he has to know.

"You're a good dad to them," Eddie explains. He quickly holds up a hand when Steve tries to deny it. "You are. And you aren't the only one who forgets it. You need someone to look out for you too and, since Buckley is too busy hitting on your ex, you're stuck with me."

"I'm not stuck," is all Steve could think to say.

"Hm?"

Steve ducks his head, tries to pull back but Eddie just holds onto his hand tighter. "I'm not... I don't feel stuck. With you."

"Good."

Steve glanced up. Eddie rewarding him with a bright grin, lifting his hand up to kiss the back of it. Steve can feel his face heating up. He doesn't feel embarrassed though, hopes the little smirk means that Eddie is taking his blush as encouragement.

#stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #steve x eddie #steve and his children #ficlet #steddie fic #i had no idea how to end this #sorry?#foundfamily

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twistedcelestialmind · 4 months

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Caught in a Web. {Yan!Drider x Reader}

Warns: Kidnapping and Murder! POV: You and two friends travel up the mountain near your village to collect things for the village Elder. You end up finding something or rather...Someone.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

“Such a pretty little thing…How blessed am I that the heavens have dropped you into my web..”

This was supposed to be a simple trip up to the mountains to get some herbs to bring back to your village for the Village Elder. But of course, one of your friends just had to go into a cave that just screamt danger. You had warned them, sensing an overwhelming feeling of dread from the place.

“Come OONNN Y/n stop being such a little baby! Besides! There's probably some cool stuff in here.”

“He’s right. It’ll just be a quick in and out Y/n!”

You sighed as you followed behind them at a safer distance. When the three of you walked in the cave, you felt a draft and the smell of something sweet. You couldn’t put your finger on it, and you really didn’t have the time to think about it before you slipped and fell.

You let out a terrified scream as your friends in front of you stood in shock. It was a terrifying sight to behold. Bodies were strung up, dangling from the ceiling like little cocoons. Bones were strewn about the place and the area was covered in almost iridescent like spider silk, and when you looked down you saw that your foot was covered in it.

“W-we need to run..we need to get out of here. NOW!” You yelled as you quickly got up and turned to run, hearing the footsteps of your friends behind you, you didn’t bother to look back, especially since you heard something that wasn’t your friends.

You turned to look over your shoulder and let out a gasp.

Behind you was a man, he was about 10ft tall, but not because he was just a giant ass man, he was half man, half spider. A drider, something your grandmother had warned you about when you told her that you were going to the mountains.

“Where are you going little one...?” His voice was deep, silky smooth almost and it echoed off the cave walls. Under different circumstances, that voice would have done something to you. But at this moment it spelt danger.

He had curly white hair and deep pink eyes, his skin was a light tan/brown, and the lower…spider half was a deep brown. He had a scar across his chest and several bracelets on his arms. What ever place they stumbled upon, he seems like he was the leader.

“Please don’t make me use my powers…”

You heard him say, and within a split second, your body jolted forward as you hit the ground hard.

“Y/n!”

“OH Fuck!”

You went to get up, You started being dragged against the dirty, hard ground, bones and body parts flying around you as you were dragged at surprising speed.

You tried to claw onto something, but every branch that you gripped onto, every rock seemed to dislodge from the ground until you were suddenly face to face with the monstrous beast whose home you foolishly invaded.\

“Oh my…You’re so pretty up close..” He says softly as his hand comes up to caress her face. He smiles as he nuzzles his face against yours, as if taking in your scent and the feel of your skin.

“W-what do you want from me..?” You asked terrified and he chuckled, his eyes locking with yours.

“What do I want? Silly..You are what I want. See you–”

He was interrupted by a rock coming at him and hitting him on the side of the head. He stopped talking and held you close to him, that's when you realized he had two sets of arms. He held you with the first set before snapping his fingers with the other.

Your eyes widened as two more smaller driders lowered themselves from the ceiling.

He looked over to your friends and simply spoke.

“Dinners ready, Boys.”

You were horrified when you were forced to watch what you could only assume was his sons go and attack you friends. Treating them as if they were some new delicacy for them to try.

The Drider turns you back to face him. “Do not look, I do not want your precious eyes to see the carnage that is taking place.” He says as he lifts your chin so you could look at him. The sounds were horrifying. You could hear the cries of pain of your friends before a sickening CRACK, then complete silence.

You looked at him horrified and tried to squirm out of his grasp..

“Y-you M–!” “Mathias.” He interrupted, with a sickening smirk on his face. “My name is Mathias. And you are my mate.”

He easily maneuvered into another area with you in his arms, going into another area that looked to be covered with crystals, jewels and various animal pelts on the floor.

“I’ve been watching you since you walked up the mountain..I just knew then that I had to have you in my arms.You’re just such a pretty little thing…”

He placed you down with a small smile, “This is where we will lay, and you’ll be with me until the end of times, you will bear children and we’ll be so happy together..” You looked at him with confusion before shaking your head.

“Wait what?! I have a life! I can’t be her-!” You yelped as you found yourself tackled to the ground. He was hovering over you, his eyes glowing a dangerous deep purple,

"̷̛̼͙̲̙͚̣̫̦͍̉͜͜ͅY̶̨̩͎̻͈̭̯͙̖̙̗͉̎̿̃͛̿́͝͝ȍ̶̢̳͎͈̝̻̥̟̬͑̉͑̎̀͘͠͝͝ư̶̖̪̟̑̀ ̷̩̖͔͗̓͌̍̅̈́͂̀͒͗̀̈̑w̸̨̭͙̜͂͑̐ĭ̴̖͍͕̠̀l̴̛̠̤̱̻̘͈͎̃̊́̆̑̚ͅl̶̢̛̮̼͎̤̘̫̗̫̺͒̐͒̀͠ ̸̭̙͖͛̈́̎b̶̡̺̦̰̜̻̙̫͌͊̿̈́̕͝ȩ̸̨̛̱̝̼̘̦̰̲̈́͛̾͆̄͂̈̚̕̚͠ą̷̱̦̥͍̣͕͖͋̋́̅̂̓͘͘ͅr̷̥̰̘̂̌ ̵͚͍̬̠̯̫̺̱̟͆͛͝m̷̼̻̗̏̆̊͋͗̂͂̿̚̕͝y̷̡̳͖̘̦̼̳̙̬͉̺̍̌̾̂̈́͜ͅ ̴̱͚̐̄̇͝͝c̴̢̧̛̣̍̃̊͌̀͊̾̆̃͘͘h̵̛̛͎̮̯̜͎̙̾̿͗̏̄̓́̐̈́̕ĩ̵̛͎̭̫̑̋͒̑͊̋̋l̸̡̝͔̘͔̱̥͈͍̯̓̉̾̈̃d̵̹̱̥̹̱̫̼͝͝ŗ̴̺͉̰̖̖̳̣̱͒̀̎̄̆͛̈̋́͠e̴̱̫̹͖̠̩̐̿̎̈́̔͆̚̚͠ǹ̶̡̜̩̬̯̬̳̠̻̂ ̶͇̞̘̘͍͉̅̌͂̇̊̊̔͝ͅa̴̡̡̳͈͈͋͐̎̾͒̊̐͑̕͜ͅn̵̨̘̺̰̩̩̰̤̣͈̪͎͒̔̀̌̋͌̀̍̎̄͌͛͛͜d̸̖̦̿͘͘͝ ̵͓̹̹̩͉̼̠͓̗̫́ẏ̶̰̻̱o̸̳̱͍̜͇̳̒̉̈́̂̏̔̽̿͐́͌u̷̫̼̬͐́͐͆̎͐̓̿̽̕ ̴̧͇̯͔͓̹͇͉̮̘̪̱͗̉̓̋͋̀͒̇̒̚͘͝͠ͅw̵̡̨̨̙̼͉̋̄̄̏̎͘͘͠͝i̷̛͉͕̱̣͐̉̓͑̕ļ̸͇̞̭̗̱̥̻͓̘͂̈́̿͝l̷̨͈͂̏͗͑̇̄̍̐̏̀̆͠ ̷̤̠̲̘̖̯͇̬̽͗̅͒̌̂̕b̸̘̈̌̎̓̓̅̀͒̔ë̶̹̦̂̒̈͆͛̽̊͝ ̵̢̲̺͝h̶͖̓͒ą̷̨̡̱͙̪͔̭̤͎̭͚̔̈́̃͋̾͋ͅp̷̢͕̲̞͐͌̌̐͂̚p̴̢̢̛͚̠̟̞̫̟̻̝̬͍̃̔̆̈́̀̓̉́̈́́y̸̨͍̳͆̈́͋͒.̷̰̙͉͚̦͊̍"̵̲̍̈́̑̈́̈

You went silent, allowing him to nuzzle his face into the side of your neck, his hands caressing your body.

“See…you’ll be just fine in my arms.. Okay?..”

You could feel the tears starting to pool in your eyes. You were stuck.

And this was your new home now…

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Please send me more ideas!! I had fun writing this ngl...

#yandere writing #yandere x reader #yandere imagines #yandere x you #tw yandere #yandere drabble #yandere scenarios #oc x reader #yandere oc x reader #yandere x y/n #drider oc #drider x reader #monster x reader #drider x you

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the-witch-of-one-piece · 1 year

Text

Teaching Them Spanish 18+ Ft: Baji, Hakkai, Hanma, Rindou, and Ran WC:900 part 2 TW; Swearing in Spanish, humor (unedited) A/N: Hello babes! I decided to do something more on the fun side! Teaching some lucky men Spanish part 1! Please understand there are different dialects and meanings for some of the words used. This is what I grew up knowing and learning as a kid! For example, since I'm Mexican concha means shell in Spanish for me and I have a friend who is from Argentina concha means p**** in Spanish to her. Hope you enjoy! (@sashi-ya and I had a long convo about this lol)

Hanma

From the start, it was a bad idea to teach him any bad words in Spanish. The man literally memorized every single word and used them on a daily basis. He would say it at the most random places as well. Getting an iced coffee at one of your favorite spots as your order was ready. Hanma grabbed both drinks “Thanks puto.” he spoke nonchalantly with a smile. You looked at your boyfriend squinting your eyes at him. The barista didn’t know what he said but just smiled and waved us goodbye.

“You cannot keep saying it like that!” you scolded him.

“Come on babe like they really know what puto means,” he smirked while taking a drink of his coffee, his hand draping around your shoulder. “Bet you anything if I say it to a random person right now they will not know what it means. Wanna see?”

“No-no I believe you.” letting a low chuckle out knowing how gutsy he already was. “I wish you picked up on the sweet things I taught you rather than the bad ones.”

Even though he loved saying the bad words he did learn the phrase just for you “Eres el amor de mi vida (You are the love of my life),” The way he rolled his r’s so perfectly made your heart drop the scarlet color dusting your cheeks.

Baji

“Leave them alone pinche baboso!” Hearing your long-haired boyfriend's voice raise louder. It startled you a bit to hear the aggressive tone he used. A person who seemed to not get the hint to leave you. They seemed to finally get the hint and walk off. His eyes followed the person until they were out of his sight letting out an annoyed sigh. His hand was still holding onto yours.

Your other hand begins to rub his forearm. “you okay??” Looking up at him.

He looked down at you as his stern look lessened “Yeah…” he noticed the smile on your face “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“We need to practice your pronunciation a bit more. But you used the terms correctly.” You spoke chirpily

Raising his brow “stop acting like a teacher! I said it perfectly.”

“You had the sas which was great but Pinche we need to work on you have to let it come down deeeeep from your soul when you say it.” You said smiling. Letting go of your hand he began to walk off “Babe wait!” You took off chasing him.

Hakkai

He wanted to learn for you. Bless his soul it took him son to ask you. Every day like a clock work you sat down with him. He didn’t know how to even have the words come out of his mouth. The phrase was very simple to say. “Don’t be shy babe.” both of your hands were resting on your cheeks giving him a sweet smile.

‘They cannot look at me this cute and ask me to do this.’ he thought to himself. The blush dusted his cheeks. “I-I can’t.” his hands began to rub his face Reaching for his hands bringing them down from his face. “You got this, don't second guess yourself.” sweetly speaking to him. Swallowing the hard lump in the back of his throat “¿Me regalas un beso? (can you give me a kiss?)”

“Sí” leaning over pressing your lips lightly against trembling lips. “You wanna learn another one?” you looked at him, he was still a bit shocked. You think you might have made your boyfriend pass out with his eyes open.

Rindou

“I would use this phrase a lot.” He looked at you “teach me it.” “I told you I didn’t wanna teach you the bad words. And all I’ve been teaching you is the bad phrases.” you pouted. Rin was so persistent in learning the phrases he wanted to know... You wanted to teach him Spanish but each time he asked it was the bad ones.

“Come on, just let me know what it is, can't you see I want to learn.” Rin’s violet eyes looking at you.

Being the sucker you are just the simple look at you with his violet eyes you couldn’t help but give into him “que chingados( what the fuck)” crossing your arms and sighing. “que chingados.” he repeated it a few times, getting the feel and the tone he should use with it.

“Okay stop saying it, you don’t need to say it right now.”

“¿Por qué?” he smirked.

Ran

“Mi Amor~~~” Ran loved the phrases he was a natural at learning the new language. Literally felt like you were dating a telenovela actor. It all started when you were actually watching a telenovela. He wanted to know what was going on and he didn’t want to read the subtitles. You were putty in his hands, his hands wrapping around your waist. Your hands resting against his chest. “Sí mi Rey~~(yes my king)” you cooed. He loved hearing you speak to him in Spanish. “God I love how you say that. Me gusta mucho (i like it a lot)”

“ I know you do. Are you ready to watch the rest of the show?” asking him, your fingers running through his hair.

“ I was thinking about having our own little romantico moment right now.” looking at your lips then back at your eyes the corner of his lip slightly curled up.

“If yall going to act like cochinos close the door.” Rin was walking past the open door.

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greycaelum · 1 year

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Hi ! How are you ? ✨

I love your contenu ! Reading about the Gojo family is so comforting, your blog has become my safe place. 💜 besides, I think twins who look like y/n with their father's character can be super funny 🤣 poor y/n who will have a lot to worry about

I don't know if the requests are open so if they are closed ignore this part : How was y/n officially introduced to the Gojo parents as a wife? We know that the parents were not happy that he broke his engagement with Tachibana but after the marriage with y/n? Marrying the head of the clan makes her someone high in the society of exorcists?

Ps : I'm really sorry for my broken English I'm French and I still have difficulties 🥲

Xoxo ~ Sunny

Kaleidoscope Series—Clouds and Mochi Chapters { Wife }

—Gojo Satoru X Reader

𑁍 Synopsis:

"Mother..." Your Mother-in-Law stood at the door with a soft look on her face. Neither of you had to say a word to understand what you are feeling.

"You are the wife of Gojo Satoru—the strongest sorcerer of his generation. Do you now understand the power you hold?" She took your hand into her own. "My son would do anything for you, anything. So you have to be strong my child. For your family."

He would raise high heaven and hell for you if you just ask him.

𑁍 Genre: angst, family theme, fluff

𑁍 CW/TW: (1.8k)— Y/n threatening the Tachibana Clan, violence directed not to reader, Marika & Tachibana Clan's punishment

𑁍 A/N: Hi sweetheart! I finally got a small breather since february, thesis defended, exams finished, but we have an upcoming ball and the deadline is killing me, but all is well~ how about you? Awiee thank you very much, it feels like it's been so long since I wrote for the mochis! In a semi-hiatus but this one sounds cute I can't resist. No worries I understand your English very well~✨

I don't think you fully grasp the power you hold.

Wife of the strongest sorcerer. Madame of the Gojo Clan.

It's easy for you to be overlooked because of Satoru. And while for others that could be the power your husband has over you, for you it was a blessing in disguise. You didn't have to associate yourself with political matters, not when Satoru is solely recognized in the Gojo Clan.

But it wasn't a smooth ride. No one would understand until they see it with their own eyes.

Satoru held your cold hand as the two of you ascend the stairs of the huge Gojo Residence. The stairs leading to the main hall where Satoru's parents are waiting seem to be too steep for you.

"Should I carry you? I know your knees are still weak from last night." Satoru teased with a sly grin and a knowing look behind those glasses of his.

It barely eased you but you couldn't hide the blush on your cheeks.

"You better shut your mouth or else I'll castrate you when we get home." You hissed and walked again.

That's right. You have Satoru. You have your husband. You're married and no one else can deny that.

But as you walk inside the large hall, too large for the two people waiting inside, but too suffocating with their conspicuous eyes trained on you.

You could feel your heart drum from the simple move of sitting in a seiza manner in front of them. They don't have to try hard in exuding the aura of indifference and eloquence, something they are born and raised with as an elite family of sorcerers. A clear difference between your worlds apart.

Their world you are not acquainted with.

"Y/n is my wife now." Satoru didn't hesitate to speak. He declared, looking them straight in the eyes. "I will never marry anyone else besides her."

Your heart pounded so hard you swear it would jump out of your rib cage. You know that but it feels different when your husband put it into words. The intensity it holds could shatter and build you up.

His parents didn't even act surprised. Perhaps deep down they already knew this will happen whether they agree or not.

You watch his mother's eyes pass a kaleidoscope of emotions. A mixture of pain, sadness, guilt, and softness. As if she hurts so much for her son.

You greeted them in a heedful manner, taking into account that you are not familiar with them ever since Satoru brought you in his ascending ceremony after breaking off the engagement with their ally clan, the Tachibana. No one may mention it with Satoru present, but you know that it was one of the many things it is hard for his parents to genuinely like you.

"It might not be much but Satoru and I prepared a gift, something we picked together." You held the paper bag, containing rectangular boxes. Inside are wine bottles you especially liked, Valais Mundi Electus and Pinot Noir from Basel-Landschaft.

"You didn't have to bother. But thank you for the gift." Your Mother-in-Law smiled politely and accepted the gift. Your Father-in-Law on the other hand remained silent, arms crossed on his chest.

"There will be a dinner banquet for your marriage. Right now everyone does not know you are already married. It would be uncalled to just have a civil wedding."

It's not hard to spot the unusual and sharp looks thrown in your direction. As if it's a sin to hold your husband's hand, and the glimmer of your rings tucked in your fingers.

Satoru notices this as well. One turn from his head sent them all facing to what they were doing.

None of them could touch you. Neither their dagger eyes nor their desperate nails for an Infinity lies between the only woman he will allow within his high walls, his wife.

He was first worried about you. He knows the clan might be subservient to him as their master, but not to you. One of the reasons he preferred building a home away from the estate is to keep you safe from the malice and hostility of anyone who might dare hurt you.

But everyone has claws. Even his calm and doting wife could be cruel if she needs to be.

Satoru hid behind the partition of the room. You sat on a raised chair and the vast hall was filled with overturned heads of the Tachibana Clan.

"Satoru didn't mention breaking your jaw." You blankly down and look at Marika, pinned down to the ground by her own family. "You should thank him. If it was me, I would sit on a chair and have all your limbs broken one by one."

Marika's mother shut her eyes and averted her head away from her daughter's pathetic sight. Even if you turn it all over around, it doesn't change the fact that this woman has also carried her daughter for nine months only to see her grow vain and miserable.

The whole Tachibana Clan wore white kimonos as if mourning for a person still alive. Or they were probably mourning for their lives.

"This won't take long. I still have a newborn to take care of." You straightened your back in the cushioned chair prepared especially for you. "I'll give you two choices to save your lives so choose wisely."

The room went silent. Everyone was on the edge, the glint in their eyes showed they are anticipating whatever you tell them to do for their lives.

"If you want to save your clan, feed your daughter the poison she gave me until she stops living. But if you want to save your daughter, all of you drink the poison, until you become sterile and die for how long it would take you to. It's a very easy deal don't you think?"

Satoru looks at the aghast faces of the clan, all staring at his wife, calmly sitting with an emotionless face. That was already a light punishment, but he didn't think you would use this kind of method, neither Marika nor the Tachibana Clan will escape condemnation and guilt no matter who survives.

Satoru resisted the urge to laugh. You sound so simple as if their lives is the same as asking how much is the box of eggs in the grocery.

Both two choices are certain demise for the clan. The guilt of making their daughter sterile and die. And all of them drink the poison that prevents them from having any more children, effectively ending the bloodline of the Tachibana Clan.

"But my husband will protect me anyways. Even if you think I'm hiding that doesn't change the fact I will take my due for what your Young Lady did to me and my daughter." The calmness in your voice only irked the men, pathetically kneeling, all too arrogant to kneel before a woman, but too cowardly to face the consequences of their actions.

"You make all this move because you're hiding in your husband's back." Someone snap out of spite.

It didn't faze you, but made you smile with no humor instead.

"Then it is our Young Lady's fault why are you roping us in!" More and more started to rise.

"Shut up!" But they all stopped when the Patriarch roared and look at you, with a final look in his eyes. "I will handle my daughter to your former choice. Just keep my clan safe."

"F-Father?!" Marika cried. Finally the cracks of her mask surfacing. "All my life, I did what you asked me for!"

But it fell on deaf ears. You watch the man discard his daughter. And you just know... What bounds he is willing to keep his clan afloat by hook or by crook.

They can never be trusted. You will remember their faces one by one.

"You can try taking revenge on me, but before you could even dare to take the first move, I will have my husband personally finish what you all started." You took your time to burn their faces at the back of your head. "If you think sacrificing your daughter will relieve you, it doesn't change that all of you are monstrous parasites using each other to satisfy your greed."

You stood up and leave, no one dared to stop you.

You've always thought you could live peacefully. You didn't have to bother with doing any duties in the Gojo Clan because Satoru never asked you to nor do you think you have the qualities to manage such a big and intricate household. But that apathy led you to where? You almost lost your daughter if not for alertness.

"Mother..." Your Mother-in-Law stood at the door with a soft look on her face. Neither of you had to say a word to understand what you are feeling.

He would raise high heaven and hell for you if you just ask him.

Just now, you could dictate the lives of a whole clan with one single word. Only then did you realize, you have to be strong to be the strongest's wife.

"It's a girl." Kouki huffed versus his sister.

"I told you it's a boy!" Saika pouted.

You watch the two fight out what will be the gender of their baby sibling.

"But what if they are twins?" You blink and put a hand over your lips, internally grinning.

Kouki instantly turned pale. Saika on the other hand jumped in excitement.

"I want a baby sister and a brother, looking like Mama." Your little sugarboo giggles, wiggling into your arms for a hug. She put her ears against your stomach which is barely showing yet.

"That's the last right? Mama?" Kouki wore a very complicated look, almost begging you to say yes.

Just in time, the front door opened, with Satoru loudly yelling "I'm home!"

Kouki didn't waste time running to his Papa. Readying his cuteness to take his father to his side.

"This is the last one right Pa? Right?" The mochi whined.

"What last Kikufuku?"

"Last sibling." You supplied for him, taking pity on your son. You ruffled your little princess's hair and ushered to the side, making space for Satoru who put Kouki on top of his lap.

"If it's the last then we should make it a two!"

"Yes!" Saika.

"NO!" Kouki.

Internally you faint just thinking of a twin with Satoru as the father. Boy oh boy, it'll be one hell of a ride for sure.

The callous hand of your husband held yours as he pull down the blindfold and rest his forehead against your shoulder.

You would do anything to keep this home safe and sound.

—GreyCaelum

PLAGIARISM IS A CRIME

Check out the Masterlist for more

All rights and credits of the Jujutsu Kaisen character(s) mentioned images(s) and songs(s) used, belongs to their respective owner(s)

General/Kaleidoscope Series Taglist: @ice-icebaby @aeanya @gummy-dummy @tender-rosiey

#kaleidoscope series #c&mchapters #kaleidoscope series y/n #gojo satoru x you #jjk married gojo fluff #married gojo fluff #gojo satoru x wife #jjk gojo fluff #gojo satoru x reader #gojo kouki #gojo saika #greycaelum #gojo satoru x y/n #jjk dad gojo fluff #jjk dad gojo satoru #dad gojo

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bluebayousblog · 10 months

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RUMOR HAS IT (pt. 8)

(Drew Starkey one-shot)

This is not a full on story but if you want more l'll be happy to add on upon request

Plot: in which drew and isobel address a false rumor in the most abstract of ways

Setting: dinner with the cooper's and starkey's + post dinner

Disclaimer: Isobel is an OC, 18+

TABLE OF CONTENTS:

PART SEVEN

Drew was sat at the Cooper’s mahogany dining table, the light from the crystal chandelier bouncing off the gloss and practically illuminating the plates of food sitting in front of them. He’d awkwardly walked into the room after his father, and chugged his water to try to clear the lump in his throat. The conversation with Charles still fresh on the boy’s mind.

He was sat between his brother and his mother, leaving the woman that had been the subject of his father’s implications to be sitting across from Drew. A blessing because he didn’t have to make a noticeable effort to look at her beautiful face, but a curse due to the man sitting at the end of the table with eyes on his every move. Drew had been confident that he successfully convinced Charles there wasn’t anything going on with him and Isobel, but with every glance or word spoken to her in front of him made it feel like he was looking right through him.

His father’s eyes had always made Drew feel completely exposed growing up, like he could see every thought running through his mind, or sense every word before it left his lips. He just had a way of looking at him and making all of his emotions come to the surface, and it was something Drew had to learn to immunize as he got older.

Drew had never had a problem with anyone knowing about him and Isobel until now. From that first kiss they shared he never felt that urge to keep things quiet like she did because Isobel wasn’t something to hide. Every intimate moment that he’d shared with her thus far felt like a step in the right direction, and for once he felt he made a decision his father would be proud of without his intervention.

Everything about this dinner felt different, usually he would be getting scolded by his mother for being on his phone entertaining some random girl—but now the girl he wanted to talk to was seated in front of him. And it felt like torture not to converse with Isobel like they’d been doing these past few weeks. With both of their families’ present it felt like even a simple utter of a word between the two would give them away.

“Isobel, how’s school treating you?” Drew’s father asked before taking a sip of the whiskey from his glass.

Though Isobel was trying her damnedest to avoid her gaze falling on Drew she was slipping up at times. It took her everything to tear her eyes away but she didn’t miss how his eyes rolled at Charles’ question. She knew the son and father had their problems, but to her Charles was the only other man she felt she could fully trust besides her own father. In the past she would find their little arguments to be petty especially since the reasoning always involved the family company, now she wanted to hear exactly what was on his nerves. They stayed back in the den for a minute, and now seeing Drew visibly bothered was the only thing she could focus her mind on.

“I aced all of my final exams.” Isobel smiled not able to contain just how pleased she was with herself with the accomplishment as she bared all of her teeth.

The table was promptly filled with congratulations, glasses clinking together in cheers as everyone took a celebratory sip, Isobel and Chandler having sips of water of course. One thing she learned early on was that she didn’t have the desire to drink around her family again because when she did have a little bit too much she always became the butt of the joke that never died.

Everyone’s eyes were on her, filled with pride and admiration and then there was Drew. He looked at her with a knowing look in his eye, with a subtle smirk on his plump lips that only she could notice before dropping his dark stare back down to his plate.

“We expected no less, no distracting little boys to throw her off course, right darling?” Isobel’s father, Richard, assumed as he always did since her last breakup.

The table seemed to have gone still at his question, her love life had never been a topic of conversation until she started dating her ex-boyfriend Grayson. And the messy ending she endured put everyone on edge at the idea of her getting into another relationship. For the men at the table it came from more of a protective standpoint while she thinks her mom and Catherine were just interested in who she would date next.

Two weeks ago she could’ve confidently answered his question with an innocent nod without worrying about if anything was giving her away. Now she was overthinking and hopefully not visibly hesitating as she lied to her father in a hum of agreement.

“What about you, Drew?” His mom asked politely behind a napkin.

His eyes snapped to his father who was already looking at him as he leaned back and crossed his arms against his chest. Drew could feel the burn of Isobel’s gaze and it was taking everything not to steal another glance.

“What about me?” He asked around his fork, he wasn’t sure if she was referring to him having a girlfriend or the outcome of the fall semester. For him both of the answers to either of those questions heavily revolved around Isobel.

“Are things going alright for you at school as well?” His mother asked with a smile.

Alright was an understatement for how he felt things were going for him at the moment. Never had he felt so stable in his emotions in his life. When he thought of school he now thought of Isobel. The parties that he always found himself thinking of her for majority of the night, wondering if she was okay before he got distracted with a random girl. The classes he sometimes found himself being late to because he insisted on walking Isobel to her’s after crossing paths. The exams that he almost studied for her with but ended up making out with her instead. The truck his father had gotten him after accepting the job offer at C&S that he made her moan his name in on that chilly night outside the library during finals week.

He’d never returned from school and felt so at ease, never felt so content with where he was. That feeling of needing to get back to some thing or someone at school never settled over him because everything he needed was here in this room.

“Better than ever, Mom.” Drew answered.

The entire dinner Isobel’s body had been hanging on to his every word and movement, no matter what he did her body reacted. And the way he was running his fingers around the rim of his glass while glancing at her while he spoke had goosebumps shooting down her arms.

She felt the implications in his words, it was laced in his body language, in his blue eyes, in the tension exuding off of him. It was tension that only the two felt, and for Isobel it was feeling like she was going to be burned.

“No girls I presume?” Charles knowingly asked behind his glass.

The tips of Drew’s ears heated at the question, he was beyond confused on what his father’s game exactly was. He let the conversation in the den go pretty easily. His accusations were so vague and Drew assumed it was his way of saying a relationship with Isobel would ruin his chances at the company—but with the way he was sitting at the end of the table with that smug look on face had Drew shifting uncomfortably in his seat.

If he wanted to see if he would lie about dating Cooper’s daughter right in front of the man’s face, he was going to get nothing less. If Isobel wasn’t comfortable with them knowing about their relationship that was final, and his obnoxious father wasn’t going to get in the way of keeping her happy.

“No, I’m just trying to put all my focus into C&S, Dad.” He promptly answered, knowing it would please him, and hopefully shift the topic of discussion from his dating life.

There had been a point when all of Drew’s worries consisted of finding a girl to occupy his time, and barely getting his assignments in before the deadline—but things were so obviously different. He’d accepted the job offer from Cooper & Starkey, and everything seemed to fall into place like finding the first piece that starts that first cluster of a puzzle. Finally signing away his life to the family company seemed to have opened his eyes, so he could actually see Isobel. To Drew it felt like his body and mind locked on her when it knew he could take care of her in someway. That was one of his main worries now besides the company, doing everything he could not to disappoint her.

“That’s what I like to hear, but remember it’s okay to find that special someone to share your life with, Drew.” Cooper insisted, his swaying voice capturing the attention of everyone at the table. “It feels good when you start earning your success, but it’s nothing in comparison to having someone standing proudly by your side when you finally get there.”

Though Cooper was speaking to Drew his eyes were on Lora who sat adjacent to him who was gazing back with so much love in her stare. His mother, Catherine, was doing the same, smiling sweetly at his father who seemed to have shed that hard exterior he was always putting forth as he gave her a wink. Drew couldn’t help but think of one woman as he contemplated Cooper’s statement and when he looked up to put a face to the name circling in his head, she was already staring right at him. He hated that no one at this table thought that Isobel could be that special person for him, and it just made him want her more.

Isobel could sense there was something on his mind, her eyes struggling to break from his even with her brain screaming for her to look away. Everyone was distracted by her father’s words, and they were taking full advantage of the heavy moment. As anxiety inducing as it was for Drew to have that dark gaze on her so openly at the table it felt right—to be finally seen by someone she’d shared dinners just like this with so many time before. And for the table conversation to be consisting of talks about building a future, actively seeing understanding form in the eyes of the man that was warming her bed and coincidentally her heart sent heat coursing through her veins.

Everyone had veered off into their own conversations she’d noticed when a clang of a fork hitting the dinnerware knocked her out of a Drew induced trance. Her father and mother and Charles and Catherine muttering things to each other she had no interest in deciphering. Isobel was tired and her dress was feeling a tad bit more uncomfortable then before the dinner began and Drew eventually took his seat across from her.

She was thinking of a respectful out to the rest of dinner just as her mother beat her to her first excuse. “Do you boys think you can help with the set up tomorrow for the business cocktail? We just need the table and chairs placed onto the floor.” Lora sweetly asked, and though she would end up moving things around to her own liking no one was going to object. Isobel sighed to herself knowing getting into business event territory would stretch the dinner time at least half an hour.

Drew immediately agreed, the ‘of course’ he supplied making her fidget in her seat at his raspy voice. Damn her straps were really starting to feel like they were sticking to her skin. She made sure her mother’s attention was occupied by Catherine who was scolding Chandler for his disinterest in helping with setup before she tried to discreetly adjust the fabric on her shoulders. Not being able to garner much of any relief with her own fingers the material snapped against her skin as she released it with a huff of air that she abruptly swallowed once she realized Drew had been watching with tinted eyes. It was that moment the tightness of the her straps transformed into the feeling of a flames searing into her flesh as he focused his attention on the area. His pink lips twisted while his jaw clenched outlining the ruggedness of his facial structure and so clearly highlighting his obvious frustration before he looked away once more.

“Not to rain on the event planning parade, but I told you guys the senior winter bonfire is tonight and I’m going to be late!” Chandler announced and pushed his chair back causing the most ear wrenching screech to sound in the room as he successfully dodged agreeing to help prep tomorrow.

“Is it eight already, honey?” Catherine questioned her youngest son, obvious shock in her voice from how fast time had slipped by. In the contrary Isobel felt like she had been glued in her seat for a never ending five minutes not the hour and half that it had truly been. “Half past actually, I love you all dearly.” Chandler bid a farewell before Drew clamped a hand on his shoulder and stopped him from getting out of his seat.

“Thank you for spending a little extra time with us, buddy, we know you have plans.” Charles reveled at his obvious favorite offspring then fell back into conversation with Isobel’s father.

“You are very welcome, old man, now Drew if you would just let me be on my way-“ He said as he tried to roll his brother’s tight grip off his shoulders before Drew interrupted.

“-Agree to help Lora and Mom tomorrow with setting everything up and you’re free to go.” He squeezed Chandler’s left shoulder tight enough to make him uncomfortable while also letting him know there was only one option to get him to let go.

His bratty, little brother begrudgingly rolled his eyes before finally relenting, “I’ll be there tomorrow as soon as you need me.” He mumbled, but straightened under an annoyed look from Drew, “Promise! Now I really have to go!”

“I’ll walk you to the door.” Drew offered and got out of the seat walking out of the room before Chandler finished saying his goodbyes.

He used the time alone in the hallway to adjust the bulge that had been stretching out his slacks since Isobel came down those stairs, Chandler appeared behind him just as he dropped his hands back to his sides.

They walked to the main foyer in silence, Drew stuffed his hands inside the pockets of his pants, contemplating if he had the energy to scold his brother about helping out his parents every now and then.

“I see you’ve come to your senses.” Chandler smirked while rubbing the shoulder he had been abusing earlier.

Drew’s eyes furrowed in confusion, “Be more specific, Chan.”

His younger brother’s smile had now turned into a full shit eating grin as he stared back towards the dining room and shook his head, “Specific like how fucking good that little black dress looks on Isobel, or how you couldn’t keep your eyes off her towards the end of dinner tonight?”

Fuck.

“Isobel has always been gorgeous.” The man tried to deflect, this was the second family member to try to make presumptions, and he was starting to see why Isobel was so adamant about them putting a pause on things until after break.

“But she’s gorgeous and sexy—the whole fucking package—when I realized that she was also sexy among everything else things were never the same, you know what I mean?” Chandler smiled to himself, that one image of Isobel in that black bikini from two summers ago probably burned into his memory.

Drew knew exactly what he meant, and the shared sentiment was more aggravating than endearing. He hated that he’d shared a similar revelation in regards to Isobel that someone else had.

The way it happened would be something he would never forget. Isobel pulling open her door on a random day in December, her pretty face a pleasing sight to see just as it always was. In his head it was like there was a blur between the time he’d deemed her as just a stunning woman to when those looks suddenly turned tempting. That moment his eyes swept over her body in concentrated interest was so intense every platonic or familial feeling he had for her before ceased to exist. That’s what it felt like to be with Isobel, what it felt like to be with someone you once considered a friend and now craved.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, be careful tonight.” Drew responded, giving Chandler a smack on the chest and turned to head back to dinner.

“Okay but remember you snooze you lose, and according to my driver’s license I’m now of age to wine and dine her fine ass.” Chandler sang with a smirk before slipping out of the door.

Drew heaved a sigh as he locked the door, all this speculation being thrown at him was wearing him out. When he eventually made his way back into the dining room two seats were empty excluding his own leaving the parents to be giggling over some glasses of red wine, “Where’s Isobel?”

“She’s in the kitchen, why don’t you make yourself useful and help her with the dishes?” His father suggested. Drew had no problem being subject to his father’s rudeness if it meant he could have a moment alone with Isobel.

He couldn’t help but chuckle as he heard Lora give him a thank you followed up with a wine induced giggle. Shaking his head in amusement, he entered the kitchen to find Isobel standing at the kitchen sink washing the plates that they’d been eating off of with carefulness. She was wearing an apron most likely to avoid ruining her dress, the knot she made in the back to secure it to her body causing the silk to ride up in the back, exposing more of her soft looking thighs then she was probably aware of.

Isobel was trying to get the dishes done as fast as she could without breaking her mother’s beloved glass wear. The quicker she could get upstairs to her room and avoid any potential temptation the better. She hated that just thinking of his dark stare was enough to lose a handle on her self control.

Just as she was rinsing the soap off a slippery plate under the kitchen faucet the feeling of a hand tugging the skirt of her dress further down her behind caused her to unexpectedly inhale a breathe of air and the plate to slip from her fingers at the suddenness. The front of her body was then pushed flush against the sink as a hard chest and stomach pressed into her back and reached around to swiftly catch the plate that was seconds away from shattering.

She immediately recognized the hand in front of her and the feel of how his body always fit so well against her own. “You look so domestic, Izzy.” He mumbled lowly into her ear before moving to her side to grab a hand towel to start drying the clean dishes.

The never ending supply of nicknames and the way they always seemed to leave his mouth in a raspy drawl was going to be the death of her. She loved that he always had her name in his mouth, like he couldn’t get enough of saying it, like he knew the affect it had on her.

“I just didn’t want to get wet.” She countered referring to the frilly apron she was wearing, but regretted the words as soon as they left her lips and she definitely regretted them when their fingers brushed during the pass off of a crystal glass—she fumbled the ridiculously expensive cup and he of course caught it on instinct.

Drew cleared his throat ignoring the unintentional innuendo and the vivid image of that night in his truck that had him clenching his jaw as he focused on the task at hand.

“They’ve opened another bottle of wine in there.” He shared and gave her a playful nudge of the elbow to her side, hoping a lighter subject change could get their minds out of the gutter.

“That bottle could end up being the point of no return, we can’t let them finish it.” She giggled and picked up the pace on the dishes then moved to help him dry the rest of the dishes, “Then again it will be funny to know you have to drive your drunk parents home.” They’d experienced plenty of nights witnessing Lora and Catherine resorting to horrible karaoke for post dinner entertainment.

“I’m not worried about that, you know Charles doesn’t do more than two drinks.” Drew trailed then finished off the rest of the work, liking the way Isobel relinquished her duty and rested her back on the Island as she watched him, “Plus I’m not leaving tonight.”

Her back straightened at his words, “You’re not?”

“I’m not.” He repeated as he turned to face her. She was overthinking, he could tell by the way she was biting her bottom lip and fiddling with the hem of her apron.

Isobel was currently trying to convince herself that she could spend another twelve hours under the same roof as Drew and not be completely consumed by him. That she could lay in her bed and not think about the fact that he was just one floor below her for the entirety of the night. That she could go this entire vacation, and not break the rules the first fucking night.

“Isobel, I’m just tired and don’t feel like driving to a bed when I can go straight to one here.” Drew reassured her, wanting to see if he could get her to relax. He had no problem going home if this made her uncomfortable.

“That makes sense.” Isobel nodded, she wanted him here, she just hated how much she actually wanted him to be here with her.

It was silent for a moment between the two, Drew watching her until she caught his gaze and offered a shy smile—his favorite smile. The sound of rowdy laughter in the other room made Isobel jolt, he couldn’t help but grin in amusement as she groaned and put a hand over her heart.

He followed her movement when she reached behind her back and pulled the string to the apron she was wearing that was protecting her from water—that was putting a needed barrier between his eyes and her body. She pulled it over her head, and suddenly Drew wasn’t so sure if staying here made any sense at all.

For the second time that night he drunk her in, this time with no shame because it was just the two of them. His hand squeezed into a tight fist at his side as he observed the way the dress hugged her figure. A dress like this left nothing to the imagination when you knew exactly what the fabric was sticking to underneath. Her soft skin that always smelled of vanilla, her breast that fit perfectly into his hands, and every single place her body curved and dipped. He then took his time studying the way the silk clung snugly to her hips, the fabric slackening in that area solely because of the swell of her ass. The thought made his nails dig even further into the skin of his palms, “Fuck.”

Her eyes followed his gaze down to her lower body and heat bloomed deep in her belly, “Drew.”

He should leave and go home with his parents, they both knew that. There was nothing stopping him, if he was tired he didn’t have to drive his father would. He’d left his truck here plenty of times before, and his family would be back here at the Cooper’s tomorrow before they left for the business cocktail.

It was a bad fucking idea, they both knew it. They hadn’t touched once, and it seemed like things were still spinning out of control. It felt like watching a wild animal trying to be contained until they eventually snapped. That’s where they were heading straight to, unhinged territory that they could never come back from if they didn’t release, if they didn’t give in.

It was just a matter of who would give in first.

TABLE OF CONTENTS:

PART NINE

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applejaax · 2 months

Text

Blue Hour

Chapter 1: The Dreadful Implications of a Pizza Delivery Man

Steve dropped his keys on the table when he entered the apartment. Robin was nestled on the couch fast asleep under an afghan, with the tv mindlessly droning on in the background. He took the remote from her hand and turned it off, startling her awake.

“Ya gotta stop falling asleep with the tv on, Robin. It’s gonna rot your brain with subliminal messages from infomercials,” Steve said sarcastically, dropping the remote down onto the coffee table.

“Wow those are big words for you, Steve, don’t hurt yourself now,” she retorted, tugging the blanket over her head and rolling away from him.

“Haven’t heard that one before.” Steve rolled his eyes and went to the kitchen.

It was a barren wasteland in the fridge besides some fresh vegetables they’d gotten from a local farmers market for no apparent reason, a single jar of jam, and a few beer bottles. He took one and shut the door.

“Pizza for dinner?!” He called out. Robin’s hand came into view with a thumb up in approval and disappeared again. He laughed and leaned on the counter, sipping from the bottle in his hand.

For three years, since he moved away from Hawkins, Steve’s been living with Robin in Illinois. She had been accepted and enrolled in some private university. At first he was upset about her leaving him all alone after everything they’d endured. In the end though it was nothing but a blessing in disguise. He pitched the idea of them moving in with each other and how good it would be for them. Robin wasn’t too keen on it at first because she wanted to make new friends, or even meet a girl she could really connect with, and suspected he’d get in the way. That was a pretty deep cut to his ego at first, he wouldn’t lie. However, with much annoying pleading and begging on his end, she eventually agreed.

His parents had opposed, especially his father on the premise that Robin and Steve were dating. Steve never fully expressed why that would never in a million years happen but all it took was a, ‘she’s not my type, Dad,’ and that was the end of it. His mother had been the one to fully convince his old man that this was a good thing for his son. Somehow, that worked.

Now here they were. They stayed about 5 miles off campus in a rundown neighborhood. The rent was low and the standards of living even lower. Everything in their apartment was broken. The ceiling leaked, the floors creaked, and the walls were made out of paper machete. Yet, Steve never felt more at home. He’d rather live here in this dump than step one foot back in their hell-bound hometown. In fact, it was his worst fucking nightmare. This was paradise in comparison.

He worked a pretty simple office job in a marketing company. It wasn’t ideal but it paid well and didn’t require him to have a degree. He’d gotten lucky, he was aware of the privilege that living in the city provided. Also, who his parents were and his surname did help too. Regardless, he no longer felt like a nobody failure the way he did in Hawkins. There were so many opportunities and options out here. He could truly flourish without second guessing himself anymore. Hawkins had nothing left to offer him and all it took was an outside perspective. He was happy he’d left. He hoped and prayed, for whatever reason there may be, he never had to go back there.

That was wishful thinking.

About an hour after Steve had called in their pizza order there was a knock at the door.

“Robin, pizza’s here!” He called from his bedroom down the hall.

“I’m busy! Get it yourself!”

Steve groaned, pausing the movie he was watching and rolled off his bed.

“You’re so lazy!” He threw the front door open. His eyes grew wider than saucers and it felt like lightening crackled under his skin as time seemed to slow.

A pair of brown eyes like rich soil after heavy rain, brown curly hair to match in contrast to skin as fair as moonlight. A smile with dimples and lines in the cheeks that caused creases under the eyes that made them light up like fireflies. Steve was dreaming. He had to be. No way this was real. He wanted to reach out and touch his soft skin, when he knew he shouldn’t. He needed to ground himself and stop the impending spiral but it proved to be too late for that.

Oh fuck. This is bad.

Steve’s brain malfunctioned and he couldn’t form a single coherent thought let alone any words. His mouth moved like a fish out of water as he tried to form a sentence or even a sound. He simply gaped at the person in his doorway for an uncomfortable amount of time.

“Uhm, sir?” The man waved his hand in Steve’s face. The cadence and pitch in his voice was all screwy. Not right at all. It snapped Steve clean out of this mortifying stupor.

He blinked rapidly and swallowed hard, throwing the money at him, snatching the pizza, and slamming the door. He turned and leaned on it for support, trying to catch the breath that was steadily running further and further away from him.

Robin came sprinting from the bathroom with damp hair and a shocked look on her face.

“What the hell happened?!” She asked, Steve couldn’t respond, he was paralyzed. “Steve?” She approached him slow with her hand out.

“Robin, he looked like him,” he managed to say around the lump in his throat. “He looked just like him.” He slowly hugged his knees to his chest and fought the tears that threatened to fall.

This couldn’t be happening. Everything was going so well. Maybe even too good to be true but he didn’t care. There wasn’t a damn thing out of place and this was the landslide he’d been anxiously awaiting to fuck him over. He was cursed, he was sure of that. There was no other rhyme or reason for it.

They moved to Robin’s room when Steve found the courage to even stand up. They sat on her bed with the pizza box wide open. The smell of cheese, tomato sauce, and garlic nauseated him despite the fact he was starving.

“I mean, doppelgängers do exist! They say it’s dangerous to come across your own. It’s really fascinating. I guess it makes sense though because how can we have all these billions of people on the planet and not have someone look exactly like us, you know?”

Steve didn’t say anything. He let her ramble on as if it would help when it certainly didn’t. This dug up memories he’d presumed he’d buried forever. He was certain he’d laid it all to rest along with his dead boyfriend. After this whole hot mess, he felt like he’d regressed to square one and all it took was a similar face. He didn’t want to throw himself a pity party but damn he couldn’t catch a break.

“Steve…Steve!” Robin flopped on the bed next to him. “Am I doing it again…with the talking too much thing?”

Steve sighed and picked up a slice of pizza, biting into it hesitantly and watched the cheese stretch.

“Kinda,” he said with his mouth full.

“Shit. Sorry. I’m not good with this sorta thing. Comforting people isn’t my forté. But I’m a decent listener…sometimes.”

Steve stared at her for a moment, then mustered a smile. A mask that was quick to falter and dissolve away at any moment.

“It’s fine. There’s really nothing either of us can do in this situation.” He set down the half eaten slice of pizza. His appetite was gone. “You’re right about one thing. I guess we’re bound to see someone who looks like someone we know or knew eventually.”

“Yeah, but…I’m just- I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be. It’s nobody’s fault.” Steve could hear the strain in his voice. “Would you mind if I uhh-“ He signaled towards the door and Robin nodded encouragingly.

In his bedroom, Steve curled up under his blankets and laid there in the dark for what felt like an eternity. The tears that spilled from the corners of his eyes had finally dried but it wasn’t over. Especially since now all he could do was torture himself with nothing else but the thought of Eddie.

He meant the world to Steve and taught him so many lessons he wouldn’t have learned otherwise. His mind had never been more open than when he was with Eddie. He was someone everyone could rely on but nobody wanted to put their faith in. Steve did and it was so worth it right up until the very end. He still kicked himself for the period in which he regretted even meeting Eddie. Or that he wished they could swap places. It was only because the visceral pain of letting him go and moving on was something he could hardly handle. The wounds tore open so often that he let the memories of Eddie die, too, just to get some release from the heartbreak.

It was like he didn’t exist anymore in Steve’s world and he preferred it that way as opposed to living the rest of his life in agony. There was no other way to let go besides that. And tonight, that man at his door, instantaneously destroyed walls he’d put his blood, sweat, and tears into building to free himself of Eddie and everything they’d shared. To put it lightly, this was a slap to the face and a boot to the gut.

He was gone. He deserved to be here but he wasn’t. He was never coming back. Steve had come to peace with that, and his grief, before he’d left Hawkins. It was one of the things that helped him cope the most. Now he had to pick himself up all over again and he hoped it wouldn’t take as long as the first time around, or both him and Robin were doomed to suffer.

****

Steve didn’t remember falling asleep. He woke the next morning to a migraine, swollen eyelids, and the phone ringing off the hook. He shoved a pillow over his head and waited for it to stop. He had work today but he didn’t want to go. He felt like shit after last night. He rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling for a long time until the phone started up again and forced him out of bed.

“What do you want?!” He answered gruffly. He sounded like garbage and felt even worse.

“Well, geez. Hello to you, too.”

“Dustin!” He sighed in relief. “Wait, shouldn’t you be in school instead of bothering me at 8 in the damn morning?”

“The city has changed you, Steve. I don’t like it.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah. Get on with it.”

“Okay, okay. I’m not at school right now because I have something important to tell you. I couldn’t wait,” he paused for a beat. “I think he’s back, Steve.”

Steve’s heart lurched and plummeted hard into his stomach. His sadness was overpowered by fear. His throat tightened up as panic rose. The room started to spin and he lost his balance, stumbling back into the wall.

“Steve? Talk to me, man! Are you okay?”

“I’m- good. I’m good.” He rested his head in his palm and slid down to the floor in defeat. “Tell me everything.”

#steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #steve x eddie #stranger things #steddie au #steddie blurb #stranger things au #gay men #80s #bluehour

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strbymacaroon · 1 year

Text

❀ Confession ❀

❀ Priest Jean Kirstein x Nun Fem. Reader. ❀

❀ Sypnosis:

Sunday.

The day we dedicate to God, for he is our lord and savior. You, a dedicated Nun who wishes nothing more than to serve your savior. But, is starting to sin more often then normal.

With a certain desire for your priest…

Father Jean.

❀ Genre:

Attack on Titan, Priest Jean.

❀ Content Warning:

Absolutely filthy. Dark content! Slight voyeurism, degradation, cream-pie, unprotected sex, overstimulation, praise, filthy smut, slight oral sex, penetrative sex, dacrayphilla, etc.

❀ Word Count:

16 k words.

⊹ † ༻✦༺ † ༻✧༺ † ༻✦༺ † ⊹

Sunday morning.

The light wind blew the melody of sweet songs, light dancing around in soft fragments, the stained glass catching it, and displaying the colors on the marble floor. Painting pictures of which only children’s wild imagination could understand.

Clean, white, pure, just like the women and men inside the sacred building. If not, they are here for just that, cleansing, white, and purity. Forgiveness for the sins they have committed. Forgiveness for the sins they have yet to commit. For the people are God’s loyal servants, and wish to follow him into paradise once they fall into their eternal rest.

A beautiful hundred foot ceiling above their heads, painted in the most rich of colors and pictures. Demonstrating the beauty and depth of what Christ has done for his people. Wooden seats decorating the floor, allowing God’s people a place to sit when Father preached the Holy Spirit.

A stage decorated with soft pastel flowers, a white fabric draped over the stand of where Father preaches each morning of Sunday. Some bread and wine next to him when he did so. Velvet clothes decorating each table and floor. Crosses with the son of God resting above the stand.

Jesus died for our sins.

And, today was a simple day. Just confessions. People repenting the sins they had committed since their last confession. However, there was something different about today, and the next few weeks. Father was being observed by the Nuns of the church. Along with their novitiates. Sisters in training. Most were young, eighteen to nineteen, the oldest being twenty-four. They were always a delight to have over, along with polite. Father never minded their company.

Quiet as a mouse and beautiful as a dove. Along with their dedication to their religion. Father loved the company of each one. Each of them huddled around each other, watching with eager eyes. Wanting to observe the process of forgiveness.

Father approached the next person, placing his hands together, and holding them around the cross by his neck. Smiling kindly, his dimples molding into his cheeks, “For you, my child, are you ready?” His tone was soft, comforting, and warm. Just like a blanket fresh out of the Laundry. Opening an inviting, willing to forgive and bless. It is what everyone loved about the Priest.

“Yes.” It was breathy, almost nervous. Fingers pressed against the soft white fabric of her dress, trembling slightly. Father was used to that. She thickly swallowed, “Anything for my God and Savior.” He smiled kindly, nodding his head. Bringing their foreheads close, two slender fingers pressed together. Dark brown eyes peering into the girl's light blue ones, drinking up every emotion shooting through her body.

Nervousness, uncertainty, anxiousness, excitement, and eagerness. The eyes always reveal so much about the person, that’s why Father preferred to look into them. He always knew what type of person he was talking to just by looking into their eyes.

She looked up, watching as Father bent his knees to reach her height. He was so much taller than her, so much bigger. It was intimidating. The novitiates watch closely. Leaning closer in hope of catching Father’s voice again. Kind yet deep, intimidating but interesting. All the women were practically leaning out of their seats. This priest in particular always causes this reaction with the novitiates, considering how young he was. A mere twenty-six years old.

His fingers gently pressed against her upper chest, “In the name of the Father,” her left than right shoulder, “and of the Son of the Holy Spirit, Amen.” He backed up, watching the women. And, the novitiates watched as the woman bent her head down, hands pressed together against her lap. Closing her eyes and staying still.

It was a way of separating the sinner to the saint. The blesser to the blessed. Father always was more than willing to help the sinners relish their sins. It was something he loved about his life, it made him feel closer to God.

It was his heaven. This was his heaven.

A brief pause, then, “Bless me Father Jean, for I have sinned.”

⊹ † ༻✦༺ † ༻✧༺ † ༻✦༺ † ⊹

It was seven-thirty am. Your bed is freshly made, decorated with white silk sheets, along with soft pillows. An extra light pink blanket hanging off the edge of your bed frame, something you brought from home.

Painted glass decorated your window, making it hard to see the beauty of the outside. However, you didn’t mind. The sun always reflected the light of the glass panels perfectly, making your room colorful. Maybe that’s why you were in charge of the children. Your room was big and simple, nothing but the necessities. Along with that, your bathroom was able to be locked and unlocked. Which made it the ideal children’s drop off zone.

It was the children’s drop off zone. And, you were the caretaker.

Currently, you are sitting in your vanity. Sister Mary standing behind you, trying to place your hair into your veil. A task you had trouble doing on your own.

You straightened your back, eyes dancing over the cross on your neck.You mind was bouncing back to the sight from last week. Father Jean and the women asking for forgiveness. The isolation that ensued the moment the two started speaking. It felt like you shouldn’t have been watching. It looked so.. intimate.

Something you didn’t know much about, due to your devotion to God.

You parted your lips, “It looks so intimate Sister Mary,” you whispered, placing your hands on the vanity in front of you. Slowly moving it in circles, the mirror ahead of you following you every movement. “The Priest, and the people.” You mumbled, replaying the scene in your head like a movie. You couldn’t stop thinking about it. You crossed a leg over the other, “Is that what marriage looks like? Is that what it’s like?” Father Jean was always fresh in your mind. Of course, it was because he kept you close to God. Nothing else.

She collected your hair together, trying to find a way to style it. Always treat your hair, then place it into the hairstyle. “Marriage is something we shouldn’t be thinking of Sister, for we are already wed to the Lord our God.” She hummed comfortingly, “And, it looks as if you’re in need of a haircut, Sister.” Her hands dropped your long silk strands, reaching for scissors on the vanity. Something you used when making crafts for the children.

You wanted to grab your hair from her hands, hold it tight and close. But, you grabbed the vanity instead. Keeping your hair short was practical, useful, and your sign of devotion. It showed you no longer wanted to follow the temptations of the world. Attraction. Cutting your hair was a way of showing you were refusing all the pleasures and temptations of the “outside world”.

And, wanting to keep it was a sin.

You were sinning.

You closed your eyes, not looking at the amount of hair Sister Mary was holding. It had to be to your shoulders, you didn’t want to think about it. It had been so long since you last cut it, and you were rather proud of the length you acquired. The care and nurturing you put into your hair, along with, you really enjoyed the way your hair looked on you. Of course, no one saw it, but it was a pleasure of your own. A secret sin of your own.

“In the name of the Father, and the Son of the Holy Spirit..” Please forgive my secret sin, my one pleasure, but allow me this one thing. Allow me to enjoy my one pleasure, and I will do you with good in ten fold. “..Amen.” Your eyes fluttered open, watching as Sister Mary lifted her scissors, your hair held by her other hand.

A knock at the door, followed by, “Sister Mary, I do apologize for the poor timing,” a deep and kind voice, warming– like a blanket fresh out of laundry, “but, I’m afraid I need you for something.” The door remained shut, your eyes peering at it. You wished for it to open.

“Oh, of course Father, allow me.” She stood up from the seat behind you, placing the scissors down. Your eyes following the silver weapon. “I apologize, Sister. But, it seems that God has a different day planned for your length change.” She gave you a silly, comforting, smile, “Goodbye, Sister.”

You gave her one in return, bowing your head. “To you as well.” Thank you Spirit, for sending one of your Angels. “Thank you, Sister Mary.” She gave you a brief nod before walking to the door. Cracking it open and speaking with Father Jean, giving him a kind bow. You couldn’t help yourself, but you leaned forward. Trying to catch a glimpse of the young saint. You didn’t know why you wanted to see him, but you did. And, you were eager to at that.

Unfortunately, that was all you got. A mere glimpse of the man, his clothing. Black everything, his pants, shirt, and shoes. His collar was decorated in a brief white, along with a rosary resting on his chest. You wondered if he wore gold rings. Priests often wore gold rings. It was something you noticed from your two years of observing your religion. Something required to be a Nun.

Father Jean was known to be the nicest man alive. A true saint with a golden heart. A man who does good purely to do good, with expecting nothing in return. A true ideal priest, someone you looked up to. Admired even. Even if you two haven’t spoken often.

Your door shut behind Sister Mary, leaving you in the small room supported by the Church. “I thought she’d never leave.” You turned around, looking at your friend. Watching as she finally emerged from your closet. Since, she was hiding from Sister Mary. Visiting time wasn’t permitted at this moment.

Her name was Sasha, a pretty girl she was. She had joined this path with you about a year ago, and since, you two have been inseparable. Well, that’s how it was with everyone of your Sisters. A total of five, including yourself.

“I thought I was going to lose my hair, Sister.” You muttered, grabbing onto it instinctively. You didn’t want to lose that. “I believe, Sister Mary is too strict about trivial things.” I mean, it was 2022, not 1900. Couldn’t you have one pleasure as a Nun? Everything else about you was dedicated to the Lord. Quite literally.

Your friend sat on your bed, brown hair decorating her shoulders. A small pout on her rose lips, “I like my hair short, so I don’t completely mind the haircuts.” She answered, “Besides, it’s more manageable.” Her hand went to her hair, grabbing a few strands of her bangs. Toying with the silky strands.

“I know, but it think—“ you turned to the mirror, “I think it looks pretty like this.” You liked your hair, it was unique to yourself. Curly, twisted, long, thick, thin, straight, whatever you hair was, it was a perfect representation of you. That’s why you didn’t want to cut it. “I know, I shouldn’t, but I do.” You whispered.

Sasha sighed, “How about this, tonight you and I go out to the garden.” She stood up from the bed, walking to you. Taking your hands into hers, “And, we enjoy the pool with the flowers that surround it. It’s said to be the most beautiful place in the church.” She gave you a soft smile, squeezing your hands.

You blinked a few times, swallowing the saliva that built in your mouth. “Uhm— I,” you pressed your lips together, feeling them move without thought. Swimming in a pool sounds like... You eyes dipped to her chest, catching sight of her cross, you ended up shaking your head. “No, it’s okay, I’m fine. Besides, we’re not allowed to be seen outside of our assigned clothing. That would be a sin.” You disliked saying that word, you disliked it so much.

Because, so many things were considered a sin.

Sasha nodded, letting go of your hands, “Of course, I forgot about that.” Her tone wasn’t as cheerful as it once was, just more monotone and disappointed. Her hands went to her side, “Let’s get dressed, once I finish I Promise to do your hair.” She said, forcing a smile in your direction.

You couldn’t help, but give her a sad smile. The two of you didn’t choose to become Nuns, your families forced it upon you. Which, of course, made commiting to Christ more difficult than it normally was for Nuns in training.

The two of you were young, a mere twenty, and you wished to experience youth like anyone else. Rather than being restricted by the word of God. Giving your body to Christ. Which meant, you were his bride. As a child, you didn’t think that your husband would be the very thing your family worshiped. And, what you repented.

“How about we go and greet everyone who enters the church today?” You suggest, pressing the palms of your hands to your habit, making sure the silk wasn’t wrinkled. “That sounds like a joy.” You added a smile.

“I want to swim.” Sasha said, pulling back and holding herself. “I don’t get why I can’t do that.” She mumbled, closing her eyes and sighing. “I just want to have some fun.” You reached a hand for her shoulder, watching her collect herself. Then, “In the name of the Father, and the Son of the Holy Spirit..” Silence. “..Amen.”

You knew exactly what she was doing. Because, the both of you were conditioned to do it.

Sasha fluttered her eyes open, slowly bringing her brown beautiful eyes to you. “Okay, let me go get ready.” Sasha pulled herself back, placing a foot behind another. Walking towards your door, while you turned your back to her, diligently watching her move through your vanity. And, she stood at your door. Hand on the handle, froze in her spot.

You could feel your eyebrows mush, What was she doing? Was she okay? Was something wrong? You twisted your body around, your shoes clicking against the marble flooring as you made your way to her. Pupils moving up and down her frame. You couldn’t stop the word from slipping from your mouth, “Sasha?..”

“Sister,” her voice made you flinch, stopping you in your tracks. “I’m going to ask Father Jean for forgiveness next week,” she mumbled. Turning her head over her shoulder. “Because, tomorrow tonight at twelve, I will commit a sin of my own pleasure.“ You disliked the fact that something so trivial as swimming, caused such a massive problem within your community. The two of you just wanted to swim. But, you couldn’t.. “And, I think you should join me.” Her words pierced your chest.

And with that, she left.

⊹ † ༻✦༺ † ༻✧༺ † ༻✦༺ † ⊹

Sunday 8:05 am…

The sound of birds was always the highlight of the morning for you. You loved watching them fly high in the sky. Oh—how you wished to fly free just like them. You always liked to imagine what type of bird you would be. Maybe a crow, you loved the sleek look of them.

You smiled kindly at those who entered the church, hands pressed against your thighs everytime you bowed. Many of the people who visited this Church were either tourists or regulars. Considering how old and beautiful the building was, people always enjoyed the stunning scenery. From whichever belief they held.

“Y/n!” You jolted at someone hugging your legs. Looking down at the small body. You couldn’t help but smile when he looked up at you. “It’s been forever since I last saw you!” He shouted.

You giggled, pressing a finger to your lip. “Hush, love. Not so loud.” You sweetly said, not wanting to bring too much attention to yourself. You placed your hand on his head, pushing some short strands of hair from his face. “But, I’m so happy to see you!” You caressed his face comfortingly.

His eyes blinked a few times, before a smile exploded from her face. “Me too! Me too!” He whisper–shouted, shoved his face in your habit, mumbling– “The house has been so lonely without you, Y/n.”

“That’s Sister, Luke.” Your father corrected, your mother not too far behind. You could feel your body just crumple, and tense together, almost like it was regressing. You absolutely disliked this part of the day. This was your least favorite part.

Luke looked back at you, a small pain in his eyes. “Oh yeah..” he mumbled, “Sorry, Sister.” His hands went behind his back, his head looking at the ground.

You could feel your heart break. Before softly nodding, “No, it’s okay.” You reassured, placing your hand in his hair again and rubbing it. “Sometimes even I–” you sighed, your voice wavering for a moment, “Sometimes.. Even I forget.” You placed your hand behind his back, “Besides, you have all your other brothers and sisters!” He just merely nodded.

Your eyes shot to your parents, standing behind Luke. You smiled, before giving them a subtle bow. “Mom, Dad.” You said, “It’s a pleasure.” You stayed there for a moment, not wanting to come back up. It felt like you didn’t have the energy too.

Your Mother hummed thoughtfully, “It’s good to see you too, Honey. It’s always so good to see how much you’ve grown.” Your Mother cupped your cheek and lifted your face. “We knew this profession was the one for you.” Her thumb rubbing your cheek was supposed to be comforting, it wasn’t. “See, and you didn’t want to do this at first.”

You pressed your lips together, feeling them wiggle, before giving her a kind smile. “Of course, you two know me too well.” You looked between your Mother and Father. “I’m actually the caretaker for the children.” You added, hands fiddling with one another.

Your Mother let out a small noise of excitement, “That’s wonderful, Sister. We always knew you were amazing with children.” Her hands went to yours, squeezing them. “You were always so good with your siblings.” Your Mother and Father were always working, so, being the oldest. You were the ones who took care of the children when they were gone.

You nodded, “I love children.”

Your Father nodded, while your Mother smiled. “We know, Honey. We know everything about you.” She patted your back, “Why else would we make you do this?” You gave another smile, keeping your body forward as they walked into the church.

“Oh! And, Honey!” Your Mother called over her shoulder. You turned to them, “We’re dropping Luke off at the daycare, so you can spend some time with him!” She blew you a kiss, “Love you, Sister.” She turned on her heel, grabbing Luke by the hand and separating from your Father. Off to find your room. The daycare.

You shakily breathed out, not realizing you were holding your breath. Clasping your hands together and holding them near your face. Trying to recollect yourself. Closing your eyes and keeping them shut, tight.

“Are you alright?”

You fluttered your eyes open, keeping your gaze to the ground. “Huh?” You blinked a few times, “Yes, I’m–” You nodded to yourself, “I’m alright, just a bit.. tired.” Your voice was soft, strained almost. You let go of your hands, pressing them to your sides.

The person laughed, “That’s good, we wouldn’t want a sad soul at Church.” Their voices cut into your head. Almost like a dizzying spell. So inviting and warm, almost like a scorching hug from an angel.

Please don’t be.. “Father Jean!” Someone shouted, making the tall pastor turn his head.

You gasped, turning your head to him. Instantly, your eyes met his side profile. A strong jaw, long lashes, pink soft lips, clear tan skin, and a nose built to perfection. His hair was soft, yet slicked back into a hairstyle he frequented. Dark blonde. What a pretty color.

Father Jean’s face turned back, meeting your wide-eyed one. Jean’s face is in full display to your wavering eyes. And, that's where they went, to his eyes. A light brown reflecting perfectly in the light, displaying his soul to you. Such a pretty color. Such a pretty face.

Wow. He’s so pretty.

Your mouth parted, and his eyes went to your lips. Suddenly, you could feel your heartbeat speed up and flutter, your mouth was so dry. You felt nervous, really nervous. “F–Father Jean, I–” You thickly swallowed, “I apologize, I shouldn’t have–”

“There’s nothing to apologize for, Sister. You haven’t done anything wrong.” He reassured, his eyes bouncing up and meeting yours. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay.” And, he smiled. He smiled. Your heart melted, your mind crashing. His smile was perfect. Dimples denting into his honey–like skin. So, kind and welcoming. It felt like you were home.

“Yes, I’m– I’m okay.” You replied, giving him a forced smile, it was more of an awkward one. “But, aren’t you supposed to be getting ready?” You placed your hands behind your back, looking at the people entering the sacred building. “I mean, isn’t the sermon starting soon?” Your eyes were filled with worry.

Jean laughed, shaking his head. “I’m afraid you're correct, but I’m not the one speaking today. Father Eren is.” He clarified, a big hand coming to his hair. Slicking back the fly aways, “I’m just just saying hello to everyone entering the Church.” You could hear the disappointment in his voice, even if it was subtle.

You fluttered your lashes, biting the corner of your lip. “Do you want to–”

“Yes, more than anything.” He quickly spoke, a smile appearing on his face again. “I love it, it’s one of my favorite parts about being a priest.” He sighed, placing his hands into his pockets. Looking at the sky for a moment, his neck is on full display to you. “But, I’m just going to be doing the body of Christ for today.” His smile wavered for a moment.

“You sound disappointed, Father.” You noted, watching as he leaned his back against the building’s wall. “Is that something you don’t enjoy doing?” You took a step closer in his direction, tilting your head to the side.

Jean echoed your moments, lowering his voice. “Don’t tell anyone, but it’s not my favorite.” He mumbled, slightly embarrassed by his confession. “I don’t know, I just don’t necessarily enjoy placing food in people’s mouths.” He visibly cringed, his nose scrunching in distaste.

You giggled, a hand coming over your mouth. Jean smiled at your reaction, “Well, what’s your favorite thing to do then?” You curiously asked, toying with the cross around your neck.

He blinked a few times, a chill going up his spine. He disliked when that happened. “Uhm,” He shook his head, “I actually really enjoy confessions.” He said, “It’s something that just makes me feel closer to God.” You watched as he smiled, again. He was such a bubbly and bright person.

You were jealous.

But, you could help but feel a part of your body regress at that. Jean was a priest, of course he was going to be extremely religious. He wasn’t like you.. Someone forced into this lifestyle. You subtly sighed, grabbing onto your arm. Not everyone here was like you, it was something you kept forgetting.

Jean leaned his head back, looking to the side. Whispering, “Something I’ve been really needing this past week.” It sounded like he was talking to himself, rather than to you. And, it sounded like he didn’t want you to hear it.

“Really?” You gasped, speaking before thinking. He gave you a look, making your face burn with embarrassment. “I mean! You’re just– you’re you! So, I would think..” You stopped talking, feeling your head screaming at you to stop. Pressing your lips together you turned away.

He chuckled, silently reassuring you. “No, no, I get it.” He reassured, placing a hand on your shoulder. His thumb rubbing in circles, “Being who I am and all.” He could feel you shiver under his touch, and he froze. Before, he shook his head and pulled away, smiling at you kindly. “But, sometimes I have my moments where one or two unholy words slip.”

You giggled, your hand meeting your shoulder. Already missing the contact between you two. “I guess that's true, Father.” Your mind rushed to this morning with Sasha, her words soaring through your head. “And, I think you should join me.” You thickly swallowed, wondering if you should take her up on her offer.

“Well, Sister, I think I have to go.” Jean said, “Soon enough, Father Eren is going to start his–” He paused, not wanting to finish the sentence. “Anyways, he always gets bothered if I don’t attend.” His hand went to his hair, pulling back the fly aways. He gave you a final smile, “Until, we meet again, Sister.”

You watched as he turned away. Entering the Church, just like all the other people. And, you couldn’t help, but feel empty. His company is an enjoyable and new thing to you, something you wanted to last a bit longer. Just a little bit longer.

“Father Jean!”

You gasped at your mouth, placing your hand over it. I really need to think before I speak. Jean looked over his shoulder, peering at you. Giving you another kind and acknowledging smile. He was waiting for you to speak.

And, you didn’t know what to say. You felt your body freeze, “Next week– next Sunday,” you corrected, “I wish to confess, much like yourself, it’s something I’ve been needing this past week.”

You couldn’t see it, but a shiver went down Jean's spine. And, the cause of it?... Jean thickly swallowed, keeping his face the same. “Of course, I’d be more than glad to be the one to guide you.” And with that, he turned his back to you and walked away.

⊹ † ༻✦༺ † ༻✧༺ † ༻✦༺ † ⊹

“Luke, you can’t just!–” you pressed your lips together, taking in a deep inhale. “You can’t just leave the room without telling me, or Sister Mikasa.” You gestured your hand to the other Nun in the room. Her head turning to you briefly, and giving your brother a small smile. Before, returning to what she was doing.

“I know, but–” He tried arguing.

“No buts!” You added, placing your hand on his back and gilding him back into the room. Shutting the door behind you, “We have a restroom, food, coloring, and books. So, there’s no reason to leave, Luke.” You scolded, quickly observing him. Seeing how both his hands were behind his back, holding something. “And, what do you have?” Did he steal something?

Instant his hands were lifted up to your face, showing you a sheer pink scarf. He looked at the ground, “While walking here with mom, I dropped it, then went to go find it.” His fingers wrapped around the thin fabric, toying with the material.

Your lips parted, guilt plaguing up your spine. “Oh, uh–” you shook your head, “You still should’ve told me, we could’ve looked for it together.” You cupped his cheek, bending down and kissing his forehead. “I just don’t want you getting hurt.”

Luke nodded, “Okay, I’m sorry,” he mumbled.

You giggled, grabbing the fabric from his fingers. Whispering, “But thank you, Luke.” You ruffled his hair, watching as his face lit up. Running into you and wrapping his arms around your legs. You laughed, nodding your head. You quickly stuffed the scarf into your habit, you find a place to put it later.

It was something your grandmother gave you before her passing. Unfortunately, due to it being a pleasure, you weren’t allowed to bring it to the church with you. Which broke your heart to say the least. It was the only thing you had left of her. You refused to loose it.

“Sister?” Mikasa called, glancing at your clock. “It’s about an hour to the body of Christ, should we start cleaning up?” She told you, holding one of the younger kids in her arms. Cradling her as she started to fall asleep. “Or, should we start taking the kids to the main room?”

Mikasa was a woman a bit older than you, twenty. She was the embodiment of Sister Mary. Tall, kind, strict, yet relaxed. Her skin was soft and clear, like snow freshly laid. Lips pink and shiny, her cheeks lightly tinted red. Mikasa was someone you strived to be like, the ideal Nun. Graceful and beautiful, like a dove.

Not a crow.

You shook your head, “Parent’s sometimes pick their children up during the small break. We’ll start taking them in twenty minutes before the body of christ.” You stuffed the scarf into your habit. “But, starting to clean up, doesn't sound like a bad idea, Sister.”

Mikasa nodded, placing the child down. Wrapping her with a soft blanket you laid out specifically for the children. “Okay children, how about we start cleaning up the play area.” She announced, smiling sweetly at everyone. The children groaned, which made you giggle.

Mikasa walked into the play area connected to your room, flashing you a smile. “I’ll take care of the playroom cleaning, you want to take care of your room?”

You nodded, “That works with me.” Mikasa nodded and walked into the playroom with all the children, Luke staying by your side. You sighed, looking down at him. “Want to help me clean?”

Luke just nodded, picking up some of the drawings that were left on the floor. Your ears perked to the sound of knocking, immediately drawing your attention to your wooden door. Was a parent here to pick up their child already?

You reached for the door, pulling it open. “Hello, and who would be your child..”

Father Jean tilted his head to the side, a kind smile on his lips. “Don’t have any kids.” He looked to the side for a moment, before laughing to himself. “Yet.”

You could feel your lips part for a second, before shaking your head. “Uhm, then– if you don’t mind me asking.. What do you need?” You placed your hands behind your back, feeling Luke behind you. Hiding behind your leg, looking at Father Jean.

Jean’s eyes met your brothers, and he kindly waved at him. “It’s not a problem at all, Sister.” His eyes danced around the room, almost like he was looking for something. “Is Sister Mikasa here?”

You could feel your heart squeeze for a moment, almost hurt. “Uhm..” You looked away. Your heart aching, why did it bother you so much? “Yeah, she’s in the playroom with the children cleaning up.” You pushed open the door, silently indicating for him to come inside. “I’ll go get her.” You pulled Luke with you, leading him to the room and telling him to help the children clean.

Jean nodded, walking into the room. You quickly walked to the playroom, searching for Mikasa. “Sister,” you called, watching as her head moved to you. “Uhm, Father Jean is here for you.” You pointed inside your room.

Mikasa’s eyebrows met together, almost in a concerned way. “Father Jean?..” She mumbled, standing up and stumbling over her footing. Which caught you off guard. Mikasa was always such a collected and calm woman, you’ve never seen her stutter– let alone trip over her own feet.

What was worrying her?

“Did he say any reason to why?” Mikasa sounded– strained.

“Uhm,” you looked back at Jean, then back to her. Shaking your head, “No, h-he just asked for you, that’s all.” You responded, moving to the side and allowing her to walk into your room.

Mikasa’s hand rested on her waist, looking at Father Jean expectantly. “Father, you called?” She asked, head tilting to the side. “What do you need?”

Jean’s eyes moved to you, then Mikasa. Smiling sweetly at her, “Father Eren is calling for you, I’d suggest going to search for him.” He looked to the side, “Actually, if I remember correctly, he’s in the small break area. You know how he is.” Jean smiled, “He needs his voice to rest before speaking again. He just wants your company.”

Mikasa looked at you, “I’m sorry, but I can’t. I have to clean, maybe when we return the children to their parents for the body of christ.” She replied, about to walk back when Jean cut her off.

“I’ll stay.” He said, walking to her and smiling sweetly. “You know Father Eren needs your company to regain energy, I’ll stay.” He placed his hand on her lower back, leading her to the door. “Don’t worry, I work wonderfully with children.”

Mikasa looked at you, “Oh Sister, I hope this doesn't bother you. Father Eren just gets… cranky when not tended to.” Her hands moved to hold each other, an act to comfort herself. “He’s such a child sometimes..” She whispered, more to herself then anybody.

You couldn’t help, but look back at Jean. Your heart racing in your chest, the thought of spending one on one time with each other. Albeit, there were many children around– you were still grateful. Your crush on Father Jean could be sated with a mere glance his way. “N-no, it’s okay, Sister. It’s nothing to worry about, I’m sure I’ll be okay.” You kindly smiled at her.

Mikasa returned it, before walking away. You slowly shut the door, back pressed to it as you looked at Jean. Heart racing in your chest, “Uhm, as of now we’re just cleaning up. Nothing too interesting.” You informed.

“That’s fine,” he kindly dismissed, “Is there anything I can do to help.” His hand went into his pockets, “I’m all around when it comes to these things.”

You giggled, cheeks burning. “Uhm, you can just help me here.” You gestured around your room, “I’m sure the children are having a field day noticing there isn’t an adult in the room.” You laughed to yourself, “Last time, one of the kids became the president.” There was a whole republican and democrat party.

Jean laughed, hand covering his mouth. “I think I heard about that.” He said through laughs, “If I remember correctly, the party names were onion and apple, right?”

You giggled, nodding your head. “It was crazy what can happen within a few minutes.” You replied, kneeling to the ground and continuing to pick up all the papers. Being careful not to wrinkle any of the drawings.

Jean watched you, “Kids are so creative nowadays.” Jean walked towards you, lifting your head. “Wait, you have something in your..” He pulled off the piece of paper, holding it in front of you with a smile. “Here.”

You smiled, taking the paper from him. Eyes fluttering as his hand pulled away from his face, his contact burning into your skin. “Thank you.” you whispered. Eyes looking up at him.

Jean blinked a few times, his Adam's apple bobbing before he smiled. Dimples denting into his perfect skin, “Of course, anything for you, Sister.” He pulled back, hands going back into his pockets.

You were going to make conversation again, when he spoke. “I’ll go help the children, we don’t need another party debate.” Jean turned on his heel, walking into the other room. Leaving you sitting on the heels of your feet.

Did he not want to speak with you?

It wasn’t long before the cleaning had finished, and Father Jean had to leave. Which you couldn’t help, but feel hurt by. Mikasa had finally returned as well, so at least you weren’t the only one taking care of the children. Which was a relief.

You nodded to yourself, before turning to the children in the room. “Okay, okay. Children!” you announced, watching as all the small heads turned in your direction. “We’re going to start heading down to the church hall, start cleaning up so we can leave.” You informed, grabbing a piece of paper from the ground and tossing it in the trash.

“Bread!” A small child shouted, making you giggle.

“Wine!”

You could feel your eyes widen, looking at Mikasa, seeing she was holding a similar expression. Before the two of you burst out laughing, looking away from the child. She placed her hand on their head, “Maybe, not wine.. But, there will definitely be bread.” She corrected.

“I believe Father Jean is doing bread today,” Mikasa loudly remarked, looking at you. You couldn’t help but notice how her cheeks darkened in color, a smile plastered over her lips. “That’s something I don’t want to miss.”

You felt your eyebrows come together. Did she… like him? You brought your head down, “Looks as if you really like, Father.” You smiled at the baby in your arms. Pressing a soft kiss to her forehead, your eyes glancing up for a second. Looking at Mikasa’s reaction to your statement. You felt your eye twitch.

Mikasa had her hands pressed to her face, covering the massive blush decorating her face. “Is that what people think?..” She muttered, looking at the ground.

“No.” You respond instantly, before quickly catching yourself. “I was just messing with you, I didn’t think..” That was a lie, you knew. You just asked Mikasa to confirm your suspicion. Wait.. you just sinned, again. What was happening to you?..

It didn’t take long before the two of you were leading the group of children to the main hall. Reunited them with their loving parents. Before going into line for the body of Christ. You joined along with your family, standing behind them. Making brief conversation with your parents.

You sighed, finding yourself at the front of the line. Keeping your gaze to the floor, finding yourself exhausted from speaking with your parents.

“Sister.” Someone greeted. And, you wanted to die on the spot. From your last interaction, you wondered if he wanted nothing to do with you. He dismissed you so quickly…

“Father,” you returned, “Nice to see you again.” You lifted your head again, smiling at him.

Jean nodded his head in return. “It’s nice to see you as-well, Sister.” He grabbed a thin piece of bread and lifted it up. “I hope the children didn’t give you much trouble, I didn’t want to leave too early.” He said, forcing a smile in your direction. Jean was tense.

You looked at his hand, seeing as gold rings decorated his fingers. So, you were right about the jewelry thing. “Of course not, I always enjoy their company.” You responded, placing your hands around the cross on your chest. “I always enjoy anyone’s company.”

Jean could feel a shiver go down his spine. He disliked his small tick so much. You parted your lips and Jean felt his eye twitch. Jean’s gaze hardened, like he was concentrated. You noticed and for some reason– it felt intimidating.

You tilted your head up and looked at the bread. Jean’s eyes dilated, bringing the bread close to your mouth. “Body of Christ.”

You could feel yourself freeze. “I don’t know, I don’t necessarily enjoy placing food in people’s mouths.” You closed your mouth, quickly giving him a sheepish smile. “Father Jean, please excuse me, it’s a habit.” You informed, placing your hand over his. Holding onto his much larger hand, “Allow me.” You grabbed the bread from his hand. “It must seem like I disregarded your boundaries.”

Jean blinked a few times, shaking his head. His eyes dancing from his hand to yours. “No, no. It’s okay, I didn’t mind.” He said, turning his head to the side for a moment. “I must’ve forgotten..” He bit the inside of his cheek.

You nodded, “I did too, Father. Don’t worry.” You pressed the thin bread against your tongue, looking down for a second as your tongue slipped over your finger. Before running over your bottom lip.

“..at me.”

You tilted your head up, seeing that Jean was already looking at you. You could feel your cheeks burn, “I’m sorry, what was that, Father?” You absolutely disliked asking people to repeat themselves. You tilted your head to the side, looking away for a moment, unable to keep eye contact. Why? You didn’t know.

“Father Eren is going to be so angry at me.” He told you, “I think I’ve been giving out the wrong bread.” He said with a chuckle, looking down at the table and basket. His hands came to his side, fidgeting with the material of his black shirt.

You felt your lip wiggle, trying to contain the laughter bubbling in your throat. But, it slipped out, “Oh Father, if need be, I’m sure you can always confess.” You quickly collected yourself, placing the tips of your fingers to your lips. “I’m sure even priests have their moments of sin.” Why would I say that?

Jean blinked at you a few times, before smiling, “It’s true. Shameful to admit, but I have struggled of my own.” Then, he nodded his head. “I suppose you’re right, confession does sound nice right about now..” he looked at the roof for a second. Elegant paintings of moments written in the bible looking back at him.

You nodded, agreeing with him. “Maybe, we should confess together, Father.” You mumbled, not so much telling him, but saying it to yourself.

“Maybe, we should.” He responded. Still looking up, giving you a nice sight of his neck. With Jean being that tall, and from where you were standing, it looked as if you were on your knees giving him..

“Is that a scarf?” He whispered, leaning into you slightly. His eyes dipping down to your chest. Curiosity filling them.

You could feel your cheeks burn, when did he start looking at you?.. “Oh gosh, I–” You reached up, tucking the fabric into your habit. You thickly swallowed, “I– uh, yes, it is.” You mumbled, “My brother gave it to me, and I couldn’t refuse him.” You added.

He smiled, nodding his head. “Don’t worry,” he pushed his finger to his lips, “It’ll be our little secret.” You tilted your head, the word sin– filling your head.

But, you blinked a few times, before bowing your head. “Goodbye, Father.” Then, you walked away. Closing your eyes and shaking the impure thought that came to your head away. Jean’s eyes followed you for a moment, before returning them to the person in front of him.

“Father.” They greeted, and Jean cringed. He really did.

“Sister Mary.” He followed.

⊹ † ༻✦༺ † ༻✧༺ † ༻✦༺ † ⊹

Sasha laid on your bed, a blanket over her body and sighing out dramatically. “I think Father Jean’s been hooking up with someone,” she announced. Bringing her hands to her face and messing with her fingers. “He’s been acting weird.”

You could feel your heart drop. “You think so?!” You disliked how worried you sounded. Sasha gave you a look that made you instantly correct your tone. “I mean, do you think so?..” You placed your hair brush down on your vanity, looking at her through your mirror.

She giggled, nodding her head. “And, I think you have a small thing for him.” She added, grabbing the scarf from your bed and playing with it. Enjoying the thin yet silky fabric between her fingers. She held it up to you, “You know if Sister Mary sees this she’ll be mad.”

You sighed, leaning back in your chair. Reaching for the scarf. “I know, I know, but my brother gave this to me. I couldn’t say no.” You got up, walking to your drawer. “And, I don’t want to throw it out. I–” you sighed, “I really like it, it’s cute.”

“Uh–Hu, totally.” She stood up, glancing at the clock in your room. “Just hide it somewhere you know she won’t find it.” Sasha stretched out her arms, cracking her fingers. “I’ll lend you the–”

“I’m not hiding my scarf in your crusty box.” You glared at her, stuffing the fabric in your habit, rather than the drawer. It would be safer if it was on you.

“Okay, it’s almost time, it’s now or never, Sister.” She grabbed your hands, pulling you to the door. “Let’s get going!” You disliked how excited she sounded. Because, deep down, you were equally as excited. Maybe you were mixing it with fear. I mean, they practically felt the same.

“I don’t know, I just feel like..”

Sasha shushed you, “If you think about it too much you’ll hurt your brain,” she said, grabbing the two towels by the door and placing them under her arm. “Sister Mary should be asleep by now, it’s the perfect time!”

You rubbed your arm, looking to the side. “Sister, we don’t even have bathing suit, how are we supposed to–”

“I’ve already thought about that.” And instantly, she was pulling at her outfit. Removing the layers of thick, black, clothing. “We’ll just swim in our underwear. I mean,” she shrugged, placing her habit on the floor gently. “It’s practically the same thing as a swimsuit.”

You keep your eyes to the ground, “And what if someone sees us?!” You argued. Finally looking at her.

Sasha shook her head, “No one’s going to see us, Sister.” She reassured, grabbing one of the towels and wrapping it around her body. “Now, c’mon, get naked with me!”

“No.”

Sasha pulled at your hand, “C’mon! You know you want to.” She cooed, doing a small dance.

You couldn’t help but giggle. “Okay, okay, fine. I’ll go.” You admitted, grabbing the other towel from her. “But, only for ten minutes.” You asserted, pointing a direct finger at her.

Sasha nodded. “Yes, anything you want.” A devious smile came over her lips, her hands grabbing the scarf inside your habit. Placing it and tying it around her head, “Now, get naked!”

⊹ † ༻✦༺ † ༻✧༺ † ༻✦༺ † ⊹

They weren’t lying when they said the pool was beautiful. It was surrounded by a grove of flowers, all different shades of the rainbow. Mixing together like an experienced painter making a beautiful painting. Right next to the pool was an equality as beautiful Labyrinth garden.

The sky above, the full moon reflecting the pool water, and a cool breeze flowing over you. You tilted your head back, dipping your hair into the water. Bringing your head back up and using your hands to push it out of your face.

“See! I told you this was a good idea!” Sasha boasted, swimming backwards. “And, what a beautiful night to do it too!” She stopped, starfishing in the water.

You swam by her side, looking up at the sky. Seeing the stars shining down at you. You couldn’t help but feel awe-struck. You were never allowed outside the church past nine, and now you were swimming in a pool, half naked, at twelve in the morning, looking at the stars with your best friend Sasha. It felt like a fever dream. Maybe, it was a dream and soon you were going to wake up.

You didn’t want to wake up..

“It’s so pretty,” you voiced, lifting your feet from the ground and floating in the water like Sasha. Fully relaxing while you looked at the sky, “I miss this feeling.” You whispered.

“Me too,” Sasha said. “I miss being a regular teen. I miss being a teen.” You could hear the whimper in Sasha’s voice. “Don’t get me wrong, I love my religion, but not this much.”

The thing you and Sasha had in common was… you two were forced to become Nuns.

“I miss it too,” you were forced to grow up so fast. “But, I enjoy the time I spend here.” You told her, moving your head to the side and looking at Sasha. She was looking at you, smiling.

“Yeah, we thought we heard something.”

And, you two shared the exact same expression, at the exact same time. Pure, unrequited, fear. Oh, you two were dead, and you two didn’t even confess! Sister Mary was going to send you two to hell.

You two immediately rushed out of the water, grabbing your towels and diving for one of the tall bushes. Hiding behind it and looking at the pool entrance through the leaves.

“This is exactly why I said we should have splashed, it’s way too loud!” You whispered at Sasha, ignoring the urge to punch her. Until, you watched who walked into the entrance. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Father Jean, Father Eren, and Sister Mary.

Sasha deeply inhaled, then exhaled. Closing her eyes, tilting her head back, clasping her hands and sighing. “I’m sorry, Sister.” She said, fluttering her lashes. “But, we’re so dead.”

“I’m going to kill you.” You groaned, looking back through the leaves. Seeing the three look at the pool. Which was clearly disturbed, softly sloshing around. All their eyes were on it, everyone knew someone was in the pool.

“Well, I can look around the area.” Eren voiced, glancing around. “Or, Jean can too.”

You looked at the table and immediately cringed. Turing to Sasha, “Sasha, did you bring my scarf with you?” You slowly turned to her, eyebrows mushed together. Showing your anger.

Sasha blinked a few times, glancing through the leaves. Seeing your scarf on the table. She grimaced, “Well, I didn’t think that..” she shook her head, “It doesn't matter, no one will know it’s yours.” She argued.

“Yes it does matter!” You said, almost a little too loud. “Father Jean has seen me with my scarf, he knows it’s mine!” You looked back out, sighing. “We’re so dead.”

Sister Mary sighed, “Well, if we can’t find the culprit, it could mean they’re still on the ground.” She went back to the entrance, placing her hand on the wall. “I’ll go roundup all the sisters, just to make sure they’re safe.” She nodded, then turned on her heel.

Eren nodded, “Sister, I think it will be fine. I’ll glance around the church and make sure no one is here.” He smiled, “There’s no need to worry everyone over something that could just be an animal.” He reassured, and he turned to Jean. “Just check around the area.”

Jean nodded. Then, the two of them left.

You turned to Sasha. “Okay, you go, and I’ll try to get my scarf.” You looked back at the table, glancing at Jean for a second. Biting your lip and sighing silently. You were not getting that scarf back.

Sasha nodded, putting a hand on your shoulder. “I’m so sorry, Y/n.” Sasha looked at Jean, making sure he wasn’t looking, before dashing to the exit.

You sighed, watching Jean walk around the water. Holding your breath as he passed by the bush you were hiding behind. You just needed him to leave, then you could grab your scarf.

Jean walked to the table, his eyes landing on the scarf. And, you cringed. He saw it, there’s no way he didn’t see it. His fingers moved over the table, landing on your scarf. Pulling it up to his face, then looking to the church. You softly groaned, you weren’t getting that scarf back.

The worst part was, he most likely knew it was your. Considering how he saw it not too long ago.

“Bless me Father,” he softly said, your ears perking at his deep voice. A shiver going down your spine that made you shift your thighs together. “For I have sinned.” You disliked the effect his voice had on you.

Jean placed the fabric behind him, stuffing it into his pocket. Shaking his head and walking into the flowery grove. Surrounded by tall, green, fluffy bushes. It was almost like a corn maze, except the center was filled with statues, and a beautiful fountain. It was a place most tourists like to visit during open church hours.

You quietly followed him, keeping the towel wrapped around your body. Your bare feet hitting the soft green grass. Sending a discomforting shiver up your spine. You ignored it, taking a different path to the center fountain, making the inference that’s where Jean was going.

You were correct.

Jean rested on the fountain wall, lifting his hand to the water. Looking at the statue of the Virgin Mary in front of him. You stayed behind the bush, looking through the leaves. You could see your thin scarf peeking from his pants.

If only you could grab it.

“Father, and the Holy Spirit.” Jean softly said, his voice deep and smooth, pressing his palm to the fountain's ledge. Placing one knee to the ground, followed by the other. His hands clasped together, “Please, speak to me. I’m in dire need of your assistance.”

You should leave. You shouldn't be watching Jean on his knees, praying to God. This was private. Sacred. Speaking to your one God, was a sacred and private experience. Not something for all wondering eyes and ears to witness. You need to leave.

But. You need your scarf.

You sighed, pulling back from the bush, and turning your back to it. Looking at the starry night.

“I’m struggling, pleading, praying, for your help lord.” Jean sighed, “I can’t keep this up anymore, I feel as if— I’m going insane—“ he thickly swallowed, “Immoral, impure, sinful—“

A shiver shot down your spine. You pressed your hand over your lips. Closing your eyes.

“I can’t control myself.” His free hand went to his pocket, pulling out your scarf. “It’s like a burning desire, turning me to sin.” His hands wrapped around the fabric, before his hands clasped together again. Bowing his head.

“Everytime I see her, it feels like hands– her hands are crawling around my body. Grabbing me and pulling me in her direction. When I get close enough, I feel like holding her down and hearing her cry. I want to see her cry.” Jean shook his head, “I want her on her knees, worshiping me. Only me, I want to be her devotion.”

No way.

There was no way Father Jean said that.

The most religious man you know, someone who enjoyed doing confessions, always donated what he could to the church, and openly spoke about his devotion to his religion. There was no way he was confessing about… something so– forbidden.

You deeply inhaled. You need to leave. Your scarf was going to have to wait. It had to wait. Maybe, if you were lucky, he was going to give it to you tomorrow. Along with a stern scolding from Sister Mary.

You took a step forward, but unbeknownst to you. There stood a very, very crunchy leaf.

The silence was deathly.

You clasped your hands together, holding them over your face, and deeply sighing. I’m so dead.

Jean’s head perked up, “Who’s there?” Jean's voice sounded panicked. You were right, no one was supposed to hear that. And, you just did.

You shook your head. There was no way you made that mistake, you just imagined it. There was no way you were that careless. You could hear Jean’s heavy footsteps coming in your direction.

You were that careless.

You pushed yourself off the bush wall, trying to silently walk away. When Jean grabbed your wrist, making you stop dead in your tracks. Your heart was beating out of your chest, and you could feel your throat constricting.

“I believe Church doors closed several hours ago.” Jean sounded different. Deeper and intimidating, almost like he was.. mad. His hand around your wrist only made you realize how much bigger he was than you.

You thickly swallowed, turning your head to him. Sheepishly smiling. Blowing a wet piece of hair from your face.

His pupils dilated, his grip tightening. “I caught you.”

You thickly swallowed, finding your mouth dry. “I know, Father. But, I just wanted to swim and then you grabbed my—“

“Scarf.” He finished for you, looking at the thin fabric. Still wrapped around his free hand. He thickly swallowed, his eyes dipping up and down your frame. “Did you hear anything?” You disliked how scared he sounded.

You shook your head softly, “I just saw you holding my scarf, then started to leave.” You lied.

Jean's eyes darkened. “You know, lying is a form of sin.” You could feel your heart drop deeper in your chest. His grip on you was hot.

“I’m not— but I’m not..” Why were you stuttering so much? Your eyes met his, and you could feel your body burn. You closed your mouth, quickly composing yourself. “Father Jean, I’m afraid I’m not lying.” You disliked how you were lying directly to a priest. Your favorite priest, more specifically.

Jean pulled you into the center of the maze. Not saying a word, you don’t know if it was scary or exhilarating. When he let go.

“What are you—“

“Pray.” He demanded. Looking down at you, “As someone who serves the lord, I hate seeing someone blatantly sin in front of me.”

Jean sounded strained, deep, and almost... Was he trying to intimidate you? “Father Jean, are you Afraid I heard you?” You innocently asked, “Because, all I saw was you on your knees, praying.” With my scarf wrapped between your hands, begging for forgiveness. “That’s it.”

Jean raised an eyebrow at you, walking to the edge of the fountain, and sitting down. His legs naturally spread open. Your eyes remained trained on his face, “Really?” Jean asked condescendingly, his head tilting to the side. He didn’t believe you. “You told me you wanted to confess, why don’t you do that now.”

“Fine.” You reassured. “But, only because it makes you feel comfortable.” You placed a knee to the ground, followed by the other one. Awkwardly holding the towel to your almost naked body. Tilting your head up, and looking at him. “Father, and son of the Holy Spirit, allow me to speak with you.” You bowed your head, fluttering your eyes closed.

“If you’re going to pray, do it properly.” Jean voiced, “Hands together, Sister Y/n.” Your name on his tongue was heaven. Maybe even hell.

You disliked being called Sister, to the point where being called your real name made you jump in your seat with surprise. It also started a fire deep inside you. “Father, I can’t, I’m not wearing much under the towel.” You softly muttered, keeping your eyes to the ground. You were embarrassed, you could feel your skin on fire.

Everything was on fire.

Jean didn’t say anything, just brought the tip of his rather clean shoe, to the bottom of your chin. Lifting your face up to look at his. You could feel your teeth digging into your bottom lip as you looked at him. Thighs desperately mushing together.

Your name. He called you by your name.

“Well, isn’t that a shame.” Jean said, pupils blown wide. His eyes were dark, scary, sinful. You’ve never seen Jean like this. “Do it properly.” His foot went back to the ground, and he lowered his head. Grabbing your face, “Please.” He whined.

He whined that.

Jesus Christ.

You thickly swallowed, blinking at him. Tears pearling in your eyes with arousal, making them glassy in the moonlight. You just nodded your head, hesitantly bringing your hands together. Your towel pooling around your body.

Jean’s head tilted to the side. “Go ahead, I’m listening.”

You could feel your mind racing, what was going on? “Father Jean, I–” your mind drifted, “Are you going to tell Sister Mary about this?” You thickly swallowed, looking to the side. Your hands messing with your damp hair, “Because, she is going to–”

“Should I?” Jean rested his face on his palm. Staring at you. Into you.

“No, you shouldn't. If she found out, I’d be–”

“Then, maybe I should.” Jean scowled at you, eyebrows furrowed.

Who were you talking to? This didn’t seem like Jean at all. What happened to the sweet Church priest who loved everyone? The one who seemed like he was always smiling. Suddenly, you could feel your eyebrows mush together. “Are you threatening me?”

Jean's expression remained, like he was disgusted with you. “Did you hear anything I said?”

You glared at him, trying to ignore the burning sensation in your lower belly. A secret you pushed so far back after you accepted your new life, now bubbling back into your body.

You loved being treated like this.

You deeply inhaled, “I’ll ask you again, are you threatening me?”

“Yes.”

Your eyes widened, shocked by his bluntness. Before pushing a strand of hair behind your ear. Letting out a small giggle, “So, I guess there’s no reason for me to keep lying then.” You tilted your head, “I heard how much you want to fuck a girl.” You placed your hand on his tight, resting your head on the other one. Looking directly at his eyes, “Or, worship you, was the word. Correct me if I’m wrong.”

Jean kept his blank expression, his hand pushing a strand of hair from your face. His hand slowly moving down to your throat, fingers skimming over it softly. As light as a feather. “You need to learn when to shut the fuck up, that mouth of yours is going to get in trouble.”

You tilted your head, enjoying Jean’s hands on you. “I doubt it.” You whispered. Your gasped at his hand tightening around your throat, a small moan leaving your lips.

Jean grimaced at you, “You really are a whore. Into disgusting things like this.” His eyes darkened, watching as your thighs moved together. “What would our God think?” He mocked.

“You must be one lucky bitch.” You replied, eyes fluttering. You hummed thoughtfully, “I wonder what the church would think if that information got out?” You smiled at him, “I guess, you’re not the only one who wears a mask– you’re just like me.” You ran your hand further up his thigh, pupils blown. “You’re just another corrupt priest–”

Your back hit the ground, knocking the wind out of you. Jean pinning you to the ground, his hand wrapped around your throat. “Shut. The fuck. Up.” He grit.

You just giggled, letting your hands roam his chest. “Mm, keep talking. I love that tone in your voice.” You mocked, “Makes me want to see you on your knees, begging to fuck me.”

Jean thickly swallowed, shaking his head as he tried not to smile. “Jesus, who would’ve thought one of the Nuns was such a whore.” He scowled.

You shrugged, running your tongue over your bottom lip. Eyes dipping down then up, looking at Jean’s prominent bulge. “You know you love it.” You lifted your leg, running your shin against his cock. “Tell me, how small are you? Men with tempers are all talk, no size.” You mocked.

Jean’s head dipped down to your neck, removing his hand, as he peppered your skin with kisses. “You want to get on your knees, and find out?” You did. He bit your shoulder, making you stifle a moan. “Ask me who I was thinking about.”

You tilted your head to the side, fluttering your lashes. You didn’t want to know who Jean was lusting over, especially when you were lusting for Jean. It felt like a jab in the heart, something painful you didn’t want to hear. You asked anyway, “Who were you thinking about?” You slightly pulled away from him.

Jean noticed, his eyes picking up on the glossy outline of yours. He softly smiled, before masking it again. He hated how he had a soft spot for you. “You.” He mumbled, pushing his knee in between your legs. Sucking on your neck lightly, “Since you’ve gotten here, all I could think about was fucking you until you cry.” Jean was to see you cry. “You don’t know how many times I’ve stayed up, praying to God– only to fuck my hand to the thought of you.” It was horrible.

You couldn’t help, but feel your chest swell with pride. You ground your cunt against his leg, moaning out softly. “Really? You’re so gross.” You groaned, running a hand through his hair. Lifting your back off the ground as he trailed his hands around your bra. Desperately trying to find the clip. His lips attached to the exposed parts of your tits.

Jean hummed out, nodding his head. “C’mon, lift those hips for me.” He groaned, “I want to feel you against my cock.” You moaned at his words. You watched as Jean tossed your bra to the side, grabbing your waist with one hand and bringing you against his hips.

You could feel his cock. Holy shit.

Jean laughed at your wide-eyes reaction, grabbing your hand while leaning towards your tits. Giving you some light placed kisses. “See, look how hard you make me.” He moaned against your skin, his hand guiding yours over his aching cock. Rubbing it through his pants. His free hand was placed over your lower stomach, pressing down on it slightly. “That’s going all the way inside you.”

You shivered. Your pussy clenching around nothing. Ugh, why was he so hot?

“You wish.” You mumbled, arching your back as his lips wrapped around your nipple. Eyes fluttering shut. “Your gross dick isn’t going anywhere near me.” You placed your hands on his chest, pushing him away from you.

Jean darkly chuckled against your skin, pulling back and looking at the way you were laying on the floor. Hips pressed against his, rubbing against him nicely, arms near your chest, and hands softly pressing against him. “Your body’s sayin’ something else.” He pressed. He pressed his forearm to your hip, his fingers tracing over your panties. “But, if that's what you want.” He shrugged, “I don’t care.”

“I don’t need to use my dick to make you cum.”

Jean smiled, shaking his head. He pushed you away, making you land on your hands. Watching as pulled himself away from you, sitting on the fountain's ledge again, and unbuckling his belt, his hands undoing his pants. “You need to learn some manners.” He growled, “Let’s teach you a lesson.”

Was he going to make you suck his cock? You could feel your mind race, eye fluttering at the thought alone. You just wanted to feel him inside you, whether that be your throat or..

I shouldn’t be doing this..

Jean’s hand reached into his pants, pulling out his thick cock. A huge one might you add. One of the biggest you've ever seen. Well, it was the only one you've ever seen. The tip flushed red, and was oozing with pre-cum. A vein traveling underneath the head of his cock, to the base. Your pussy clenched. That was going to go.. Inside you. All the way inside you.

You scooted closer, placing your hands on his knees and opening your mouth. The palm of Jean’s hand went over your mouth, keeping you away. “Nu-uh, only good girls get to suck cock.” He mocked, pushing you away from him. “You need to learn some discipline.”

You blinked at him, your eyes shining from the starry night. “H-huh?” You stupidly asked. Sitting on your heels, hands meeting together in your lap. “Discipline?...” You mumbled.

Jean smiled, nodding his head. “Awh, that’s right. Discipline.” He moved his hand to the base of his cock, “What? Never heard of that word?”

You watched his hand move up and down his cock, his throat straining. You hated the way every movement he did, transferred to you. Making your body hot with desire. Watching and hearing the way his hand glided over his cock in a fast rhythm.

You wished you could remove the deep sweltering desire building within you. Maybe, feel Jean’s hands over your body to help. Feeling his hand trail over your breast, your waist, neck, and near the throbbing sensation between your legs. That would calm down your sweltering body, right?

Fuck. Hopefully.

Jean couldn't refuse someone begging for his touch, right? Begging him to fuck them?

You crossed your legs, slightly squirming in place. Hot pants leaving your glossy lips as your eyes fluttered softly. Your legs awkwardly mushing together as a slick developed between them. Trying to ease the burning desire within you.

Jean’s eyes danced over your pathetic attempt to relieve yourself, his eyes going dark. Why the hell were you so sexy? He couldn’t hold it back, his throat constricting– a whiny 'fuuck..' leaving his glossy lips.

You nearly lost it. The heat between your legs becoming painful. You couldn't help, but whimper. Would he at least let you draw shapes on your clit? Help with the desperation. You swallowed, feeling embarrassed from your thoughts–the whole situation. Your Priest fucking his hand in front of you, getting off on you watching him.

Yeah.. This was a bad situation for you. Really bad.

Despite the situation, Jean didn't stop. Just took a quick glance at you, before tilting his head back. Another scratchy groan leaving him, his Adam's apple bob slightly. Hot pants and strings of curses leaving his mouth every other second.

God.

"Ready for your punishment?" You blinked a few times, lips slightly parted as you mindlessly nodded. You felt yourself softly getting pulled closer to him. You slightly flinched once his free hand pushed your hair out of your face, feeling yourself become more jumpy in the situation. Every sensation is like fire against your skin. Everything felt so good.

So unbearably good.

Jean’s rather large hand pumping up and down his cock lewdly. "I have the perfect punishment in mind." He watched the way you squirmed. Slowly looking back at him, trying to ignore the thing you so desperately wanted to see.

Jean had no shame, he wanted to see you squirm. Wanted to see you pant and look at him with desire. Hot fucking desire. Jean smiled mockingly at you, his dimples denting into his skin. "Ask me what it is." He persisted. You took your lip between your teeth.

"What's my… punishment?" You asked with uncertainty. Sitting on your heels, and slightly arching toward him with anticipation. Eyes fluttering.

Jean cupped your face, tilting it to look directly into his eyes. "You're going to sit there, look pretty, while I fuck my hand." He slightly sat up, grabbing the back of your head along with a handful of your hair. Seeing the way you slightly moaned as he pulled your head to his face, noses practically touching. "Alright, pretty girl?" You obediently nodded, awkwardly pulling your attention to his cock. Watching the way his hand moved. His other hand planted in your skull. You felt him bring your head down, bring you in front of his cock.

Jean wanted to see you suck his cock so badly. See you struggle maybe even enjoy the way you couldn't deep throat him like he wanted you too. That wouldn't matter, he'd still force your head down. Seeing you gag and look up to him.

Because, Jean was disgusting like that. He'd get off on your struggle, and a part of him says you'd enjoy it too. You softly moaned. Finding yourself naturally spreading your legs as you leaned forward. Your fingers moving to your clit, rubbing circles on the sensitive nub.

Jean fastened his pace. Finding himself getting closer. Which was a surprise for him. Although, with watching you play with your pussy, that more than likely played a part. You rolled your hips down into your fingers, groaning with frustration and pleasure. Jean's eyes never leaving your exposed form.

Sucha’ cute Nun. His cute Nun.

You bit your lip, finding no other way to react to the groans reaching your ears. Almost concealed by the water fountain behind him. But, oh no, you could still hear them, clear as the night sky. Almost as if he was right next to you, trying to sound as indecent as he could. A shaky exhale left you.

Tears pearling around your eyes was throwing him near the edge. The way you were slightly begging with those round eyes of yours. So pure and innocent. You didn't even know what to do with yourself. You were just waiting for him to do something to you. While he got off to that thought alone.

That thought alone made Jean realize how painfully horny he was for you. How much he wanted to grab you by your hips, and pressed your face into the floor while he fucked you. Seeing you squirm, and moan over his cock. Maybe, even praise you for taking him whole.

But, this was a punishment, Jean reminded himself. But, he was still trying to get off. He just needed something to push him over the edge. His eyes flicked all over you. "Lay down." Your eyes peered at him. Your wet lashes fluttered, as you quickly obeyed. Your legs immediately clamped shut. Jean groaned with annoyance, grabbing your ankle and roughly pulling you towards him. Connecting the dots in your head.

You could feel your eyebrows mush together in confusion, picking your head off the ground. “Wait,” you muttered, watching as he pulled your panties to the side. Pressing kisses to your thighs, “I haven’t showered, I just out of the pool, and I’m like really—“

Jean's hand harshly gripped your face, your mouth covered with your palm. “Stop bitching,” he grumbled, “fuck, I’ve waited long enough.” You just blinked at him, nodding your head softly. He smiled at you, “Good,” he cooed. “Now, shut the fuck up, and take it.”

You thickly swallowed, spreading your legs open for him. Jean just laughed at you, “Good job.”

You could feel your eyes roll with his tongue moving up your slit. “No. No, wait.” You shut your legs, thighs squeezing Jean.

Jean loudly groaned, “What now?”

“What’s up with you?” Suddenly your mind was coming together and questioning the situation. You were on your back, about to get eaten out by a priest. Not any priest, but the nicest man you’ve ever met. A guy who enjoyed speaking aloud to the church, taking confessions, and helping those who needed it.

That same guy was leaning over you, calling you filthy names while eating you out. Where did the other guy go? “I’m so confused, I thought you?—“

“Yeah, no. Don’t even start.” Jean cut you off, groaning with annoyance. “You wouldn’t believe how corrupt this place is.” He replied, “The only reason Eren isn’t here is, because he’s fucking Mikasa.” He lowered himself to your face, smiling at you mockingly. “Don’t tell me you fell for that fake bullshit, I thought you were better than that, Y/n.” He mocked.

Jean’s eyes skimmed your form, as he felt his breath heat up. You shuttered as his fingers fluttered over your calf gently. Slowly moving up your leg close to the place you wanted it most. A soft moan leaving you, as your back arched.

Jean laughed to himself, "Fuck. I've barely touched you, yet, look at yourself." He pulled his hand back, staring at you. Jean pressed his hand to your abdomen, tracing it teasingly.

A small 'please.' Left you. You didn't even know what you were begging for. And, Jean knew that. "Please?" He mocked. Clearly amused. "Please what?" The way he said that, made your eyes flutter. So, breathy and laced with desire.

"Touch me.." you meekly said. Embarrassment running through your body.

Jean shook his head, "Spread your legs." You blinked a few times, feeling that heat worsen– if that was possible. You slowly parted your legs, hearing the deep growl coming from Jean. Your eyes fluttered. "Good. Fuck– good job."

You whimpered. Jean smiled to himself, he didn't know you were such a slut for praise. He finally lowered his hand to your clit. Rubbing his thumb over the nub slowly, with just the right amount of pressure. You could feel your belly starting to heat up.

You looked to the side, thinking back to what Jean said. “You’re just a liar.” A good one at that, you finally replied. “I guess I’d be a hypocrite to judge you, though.”

“A hypocrite?” Jean asked, eyes glued to your face. Searching for your expression. Trying to see what you did, and didn’t like. He knew this was supposed to be a punishment, but he couldn’t help himself.

Your eyebrows slowly knitted together, lips parting your tried to inhale. The sensation of Jean’s thumb, sending electric currents up your body. “Y-yeah, a hypocrite.” You lightly groaned. Jean was touching you, rubbing your sensitive clit while you moaned. You had to be dreaming.

“Did you not want to be a Nun?”

Why was he talking about this? “No, my–” You jolted, feeling his fingers pinch your clit. His lips wrapping around your nipple, his tongue running over it. “M-my parents forced m-me.” You could feel your legs twitch, tears pearling in your eyes.

Oh god, oh god, oh god, oh god–oh god. Why does it feel so good?

Jean laughed, pressed a soft kiss to your tit. “Makes sense, I could hear your moaning all the way from my room when you masturbated.” He smiled seeing the way you tensed, his words seeping into your brain and connecting the dots. “You’re so loud, I’m sure the whole Church heard you.”

You could feel your blood run cold. The warmth in your belly growing warm, why was that– hot?...

Jean’s dark eyes hardened, watching as you jolted when his fingers ever-so-slightly dipped into your hole. “What? Don’t tell me you thought you were being quiet.” He mumbled against your skin. Listening to you moan, he would do anything to fuck his cock with– something. He was so desperate for relief.

“The amount of times I would just listen to you call my name in the middle of the night.. It’d have to have been hundreds.” You felt your body tense up, a string twisting in your stomach. “I would fuck my hand to the sound of your voice, listen and listen to your sinful voice. Wish I could see the way your fingers circled your clit, the faces you made when you came.”

“I wanted to walk into your room, and be the one who made you feel good. I wanted to fuck you so bad..” Jean did everything in his power to control his thoughts at first, prayed, begged. For a moment he thought you were the devil with an apple taunting him, daring Jean to take a bite of the forbidden fruit.

Until he decided… hell can’t be that bad, and it definitely can’t be eternal. And, hell– you were fucking worth it. He was going to savor each fucking bite.

Jean’s head tilted to the side, “And, I always wondered how you did it.” He pressed a kiss to your neck, “I wondered if you were thinking of me.” His voice was weirdly soft, making you look at him, noticing the way he towered over you. “Tell me, Y/n. Were you thinking of me when rubbing your sensitive pussy?”

You shakily exhaled, unable to think. You thickly swallowed, choking over a moan, and tilting your head back. A long breath leaving you as Jean intently watched. Your innocent demeanor basically diminishing in-front of him. “Y-yes, I was thinking of you.. Jean.”

It was perfect. So, fucking, satisfying.

A sharp, 'hah!' Left you. Making it painfully aware you didn't know how to react to the new sensation. His hands tracing over your exposed skin, before grabbing your bra, pushing the fabric up slightly. Exposing more skin to his hungry eyes.

You whimpered, and turned your face away, embarrassed by the eyes racking over your skin. Also, by the fact of how much you enjoyed it. Jean grabbed your cheeks with his index and thumb, bringing your face to his eyes.

“Don’t look away, I want you to watch this.” You felt your lip quiver as you looked down, seeing what Jean was doing. You could a pair of hands trail over your stomach to your upper back, unclipping the back bra you wore. Revealing your bare breasts to him. The perky buds hardening under the cool air. His tongue rolled around them, your eyebrows scrunching together in return.

"God! Hah!" You choked over a moan, the sensation becoming too much for you. Jean laughed.

"God?" Jean questioned mockingly, grabbing the back of your neck, and raising you towards him. "I'm not a god.” He said, his voice laced with amusement. “I'm fucking Jean Kirstien. You better not be calling out anything, but that." You groaned, nodding your head feverishly.

"Yes! J-jean!" You gasped, feeling his hand tighten around your throat.

Jean groaned, biting in his lip. "Such a slut." He harshly spat. His hand left your throat and reached for your lips, pushing two fingers into your mouth. You gag initially before closing your mouth around them, your tongue rolling against it. "Suck." You quickly obeyed. Jean felt his eye twitch, as well as his cock. How were you so sexy? He pulled his hand back, removing his fingers from your mouth, and wiping your spit on your cheek.

Your eyes rolling back lewdly, as you tried to refuse the feeling of tossing your head back. Your legs spread impossibly wider, making his eyes snap to your entrance. Moving his fingers faster. You arched your back.

Your pussy was fluttering on nothing, begging to be stuffed. Jean continued to pump his cock, sucking in a groan as you moaned without care. He was so close. If only he could taste you. Run his tongue over your entrance before going to your clit. Glancing up at you to see your reaction.

You’d probably tear up, try to push him away as he grabbed your hips and forced you to stay put. Pinning you down, and just hearing you cry out about how it was– too much. He wouldn’t care, just continue rolling his tongue around your sensitive bud. Maybe, pump his fingers in and out of your entrance.

You took a deep breath, eyes shutting and rolling to the back of your head. A mantra of babbles leaving your mouth, “Ohgod, fuck. I’m– hah!–” you could feel yourself tighten around nothing, desperate to be filled.

God, Jean was losing his goddamn mind. He couldn’t help, but fuck his hand, hips bucking at the sound of your voice. Fingers moving your clit in circles, trying to follow your pace. Trying to imagine it was him inside of you, feel the way you’d suck him into you.

"Please, God– Jean." You softly begged. "I feel weird..." you stated.

That was a tipping point for him. The slutty words leaving your mouth were shooting straight to his cock. You were such a slut like this. Such a fucking saint. The perfect in between.

Jean wasn't complaining in the least. "How slutty of you?" He questioned. But you didn't care. For once you felt so good. So incredibly good. The fact that Jean was watching was even better, you didn’t know how but it was.

You choked on a moan, nodding your head. Hearts filling your eyes as you spoke. "Yes! Anything!" Your pussy in plain sight for his viewing pleasure. Loving every second. That tipped him over.

You wrapped your arms around Jean’s shoulders, pulling him close to you. You lips right next to his ear, releasing profanities. Jean could feel his mind melt with your words, “Oh my god, Jean! S’it s’good.” You cried, tears falling down your face. Jean kissed the corner of your eyes, before running his tongue over the wet stream. A laugh leaving his throat.

Yeah, there was no way you weren’t cumming around his thick cock.

Jean’s fingers pulled away, and you immediately whined, wanting the sensation to come back. “Wait, wait, don’t stop..” You pleaded, reaching for his hand. Trying to get him to continue.

“Shh, don’t worry.” He cooed, “It’s only for a second.” His hand went to his cock, pressing the head to your entrance. “Hold me.”

You slowly took a deep breath in, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and bringing him close. Shutting your eyes as he pushed himself inside you. You could feel tears brimming your eyes from the stretch, a pain– and pleasure shooting through your body. A pained whimper leaving you.

Jean just held you closer, “S’it okay, it’s okay. I got you, I got you.” He whispered reassuringly, pulling his head back to kiss you, his tongue tracing yours. You moaned into him, melting against his body, His hips rolling into yours. Jean stifled a groaned, “Fuck, you feel s’good, Y/n.”

You could feel his dick slowly inch inside you, pushing your lips apart. Bullying his fat head inside your small hole, stretching around his size. A small whine leaving your throat, his hips meeting the fat of your ass. He tried staying still, letting you adjust to his size. But, God was really testing his patience.

This was the very thing Jean had been dreaming of.

You couldn’t breathe. Filled to the brim with Jean’s fat cock, it felt like it was in your throat. But, it felt so, so good. Being filled like never before, his cock hitting all the spongy spots deep inside you. Spots even you couldn’t reach. You gasped, “J-Jean, it hurts– feels so–”

“Good?” He cut off, pressing kisses to your neck. “You can do this, Y/n. Promise.” His nose caressed your neck, “Be good for me, yeah?” You shut your eyes, and meekly nodded your head, pushing your face in his neck. “Can I move?”

You nodded.

Jean smiled, his eyes fluttering. “Thank you,” he whined, “I’ve been waiting too long for this.” His hips pulled back, before pushing forward. His head getting thrown back back from the pleasure shooting through his body. Making his mind hault. Your pussy was so tight and warm, so desperate to have his cum inside of you.

You immediately arched your back, your toes curling at the pleasure. Your mind blanking as you loudly moaned, your pussy stretching around his cock. Sucking him back into you, “Holy fuck, holyfuck..” You babbled, unable to think.

Jean’s hands went to your waist, gilding you to move up and down his cock. Your slick, lubing him up, and allowing him to enter with ease. Almost like you were made to milk his cock. His eyes went to your stomach, seeing as it pressed against your belly. How cute.

Your hands reached for his shirt, gripping onto it as Jean pressed his hips into you. Going in and out, at a slow rate. Savoring every whine, cry, moan, and gasp that left your mouth. Your pussy clenching around him once Jean hit that spongy spot of yours.

You groaned, tossing your head to the side. “Hah!”

Jean licked your neck, “You like that spot?” He asked, but as expected– didn’t get a response. Your stupid, fucked out head probably couldnt register a thing he was saying. Awh, poor baby. You need him to dumb it down for you. “Here?” He asked, jutting his hips to hit your sweet spot.

You cried, tears falling down your cheeks. Your lips swollen from biting on them. Jean smiled to himself, “Yeah, right here.” He hit it again, watching as your legs tightened around his waist. Almost a silent way of telling him to stop.

There was no way in hell he was stopping.

Jean wanted to see you sob in pleasure.

Jean grabbed your ankle, lifting it to his shoulder. Placing his hand on your other thigh, and pressed it to the ground, allowing him to go deeper inside you. A groan leaving his mouth from how fucking amazing you felt. Electricity shook up his body with every thrust into you. His swollen tip hitting inside you perfectly, making him whine. You just felt so, so good.

Jean never wanted to leave. He wanted to stay like this forever. Fuck his cum into your abused pussy until you couldn’t help but cry with pleasure. Tears falling down your cheeks as you weakly gripped onto Jean, desperate to ground yourself. But, even more desperate to cum again.

Jean pressed his lips together, trying to conceal his moans. Which only muffled them, his hips pressing into yours as he gripped your waist tighter. Moans trying to escape his closed lips, making them even whiner, than before. His lips parted, “I feel so good,” he groaned, “Fuck, you make me feel so good.”

Jean’s hands went to the back of your thighs, folding them into you. “Oh god, fuck yes,” he moaned. Pounding his cock into you, making sure to hit all your favorite spots. He looked at you, seeing as you rolled your eyes back. “I’m hitting all your favorite spots, huh?” He groaned.

You just nodded, head lollying to the side. Unable to hold it up, your mind swirling with nothing, but thoughts of his cock deep inside you. His moans filling your ears, with wines and cries. No thought put behind them, just pure pleasure. Your body jolting with every thrust of his hips.

Fuck, you needed this. You wouldn’t be able to go another day without this in your life.

“Oh my–” you could feel your throat constrict, your heart speeding up as your vision went white. “Fuck, ohmygod– I’m– so close!” You tried breathing, but you couldn't.

Jean chuckled to himself, “No, not yet.” He cooed, looking into you. Only to see your non-vacant eyes. He couldn’t help, but laugh again. “Awh, look at those fucked out eyes. Not a single thought behind them, huh?” He pulled out, “You just want my dick, huh?”

Jean turned you around, forcing your face to the ground. “C’mon babe, don’t tell me you’re already tapping out.” You meekly shook your head, pushing your pussy back on his cock. Eyes rolling with every thrust. “Atta’ girl,” He praised.

You felt your lips wiggle, tears falling down your face. Too much, it was way too much! That coil from before, building in your stomach again, getting tighter and tighter. Jean could notice by how tight you were clenching around him, your gummy walls pulling him back into you.

“Awh, am I hitting all your favorite little spots, over and over again? Does it really feel that good?” Jean mocked, feeling his balls tighten. Fuck, he wasn’t going to last much longer like this. His hand wrapped around your body, circling your clit again. Hearing the way you groaned, your mind melting with overwhelming pleasure. “You feel your belly getting warm?”

“Y-Yes!” Oh my god, you were going to cum. It almost felt different, like you couldn’t stop it from happening. Forcing it way through your body, your ears ringing.

“I know, I know. Don’t worry, babe. I’m not stopping, I’m not stopping.” He cooed, watching as you went slack. Your legs wobbling, as your arms caved in. Squirting over his cock, wetting his abdomen. Jean couldn’t help, but feel his eyes go wide. Watching you come, not bothering to stop his thrust. Only making your pussy twitch.

Your body went slack, about to fall to the floor when Jean caught you. Laugh at your pathetic state, “Babe, did it really feel that good?” He mocked, continuing to fuck you. You could feel your pussy burning with pleasure, it was almost overwhelming– fuck that, it is overwhelming.

You could feel your mind screaming to pull away, your body aching with soreness. Jean’s hands going to your shoulders, pulling you back on his cock. Making his thrust deeper and harder than before. Hitting that spongy spot with more power. “Don’t worry, you don’t have to do anything. Just lay down, and take my fat cock.”

You didn’t even have the power to object, your mind was just high on pleasure.

“Oh god, fuck, Y/n I’m gonna’ cum.” Jean moaned into your shoulder, his thrust turning erratic. “W-where do you want it?” His dick was coated with your slick, a ring located at the base of his cock. Evidence of your actions with him.

You weren’t even thinking when you said it, “Inside.” You groaned back, eyes rolling to the back of your head. You could feel your mind blank again, body tensing.

Jean felt his throat constrict for a moment, “Oh fuck, oh fuck..” He moaned, eyes rolling to the back of his head while he pushed his hips into you. Hot ropes of white cum, seeping inside your overstimulated pussy. “Fuck.” He groaned, closing his eyes and collecting his breath. Slowly lowering you to the ground. Then, finally pulling out of you.

Watching as his cum leaked out of you.

Jean just smiled to himself, running his hands over his face. He tilted his head to the side, peering at you. “Babe, you okay there?” You gave him a weak thumbs up, one that made him laugh. “Alright..” He dismissed, looking at the Church, and seeing how all the lights were off.

It was going to be a bitch, and a half to get back inside.

You rested on your back, your eyes blinking slowly. Jean went to lay next to you, looking at the shimmering sky above. Holding your hand, not before quickly removing his shirt and placing it on you. Trying to give you something to cover yourself.

“The sky’s pretty.” You quietly said, leaning into Jean. Eyes blinking at the endless cosmos, observing the beautiful scenery. You never got to look at it, being trapped inside the church at night.

“Yeah, the moon’s beautiful.” Jean responded, wrapped his arm around your shoulder. “This is nice.” He whispered in your hair, pressing a kiss to the crown of his head. “I didn’t mean the things I said, I think I was just horny.” He said with a laugh.

You giggled, moving closer to him. “Your brain went– Y/n, must fuck, now.” You smiled, wrapped your arms around his torso. Still slightly sore from your previous activities. You wondered how sore you would be when you woke up.

Jean groaned, “Uhg, I hate that.” He laughed, “I have so much confessing to do after this.” His arms tightened around you, pulling you closer to him. “But, it was worth it.” Jean smiled, the smile you came to utterly adore. “You’re worth it.”

You rested your head on his chest. “You are too.”

“You want to sleep with me tonight?” He asked, pushing back off the ground and pulling you up with him. Picking you up like a princess, a small yelp leaving you. “I’ll promise to massage your back in the morning.”

You looked to the sky, pretending to think, while wrapping your arms around his neck. Crossing one leg over the other, “Will you also massage my legs?” You stretched your foot out, feeling it cramp.

“Of course,’” Jean responded, pressing his lips gently across yours. Walking through the maze. Searching for the exit, which he found surprisingly fast. “I’ll even fuck you stupid again, if you want.”

You rolled your eyes, “Don’t. I think my body needs a break after that.” You pressed your finger to his nose, smiling to yourself. “Just get me to a soft bed, and I’ll be fine for the night.” You rested your head in his chest, yawning quietly. “I’m so tired.” You whispered.

Jean smiled back, his dimples prominently shining at you. “Fine, but next time I’m eating you out.” He sang, twirling around with you in his arms.

You shook your head, smiling sweetly. “Deal.”

Ugh, you literally loved him so much. Why’d he have to be so perfect.

⊹ † ༻✦༺ † ༻✧༺ † ༻✦༺ † ⊹

#writers on tumblr #anime #fiction #writing #aot fanfiction #aot x y/n #rating: mature #attack on titan fanfiction #attack on titan #attack on titan jean #jean kirschtein x reader #jean kirschstein #jean kirschtein fanfiction #jean kirschtein x you #jean x y/n #jean kirstein #smut with plot #smut #modern au

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teaberrii · 10 months

Text

Chapter 15: The Stuff of Nightmares

You've been Cupid for as long as you can remember. You've brought countless soulmates together, yet you've never found love.

When you're assigned to bring two childhood friends back together, it should be simple until you unexpectedly catch feelings for the mysterious and cold Ph.D. student, Dan Heng, the man with a soulmate… the man with answers to your past.

Dan Heng/You

Notes:

Cross-posted on Ao3

Female reader

Chapter index at the end of chapter one

Cloudy skies loomed above the palace the day Luocha had passed his exam to become a certified doctor. He’d gotten the news from his teachers today and couldn’t wait to spread the word to the family. You were nowhere to be found, which lead him to suspect you were probably with Young... again. Luocha reached his parent's room, but just before he could slide the wooden door open, he heard the familiar voices of the maids.

“Surely, that’s just a nasty rumour. How could Master Luocha not be their son?”

His heart almost stopped.

"It was a conversation I was not supposed to hear. But, the Queen admitted it! Besides, haven't you ever wondered why he looks a little… different from his sister?"

Luocha heard something like an object hitting something soft.

“But he has his father’s eyes!”

“That’s because he’s the king's son, not the queen’s!”

“Luocha?”

Startled, Luocha turned around and saw Jing Yuan. Suddenly, the doors opened, and Luocha heard a gasp.

“Master Luocha!” Luocha turned and saw the obvious surprise on the maids’ faces. Then, he looked in the room, and one of the maids quickly said, “T-They paid a visit to the village. We haven't seen them return."

“And my sister?”

“We…” The maids glanced at each other. “We haven’t seen her since this morning.”

They quickly excused themselves. As they hurried off, Luocha saw one gently hit the other as if to chastise her for what she’d said. Then came Jing Yuan’s footsteps. Soon, he stood beside him.

“You look a bit pale,” Jing Yuan said. “Are you all right?”

Luocha didn’t know why he couldn’t look his friend in the eyes. Perhaps it was because he was still reeling from what he’d overheard. He knew better than to believe the words of gossiping maids, but he knew they wouldn’t go around spreading lies, especially something as serious as that. There had to be a grain of truth, no matter how small. But this was too much.

“What… What are you doing here?” Luocha finally asked.

Jing Yuan was a rising commander in the ranks. With the developing relationship between the North and the South, the kingdoms often held military training together, which explained Jing Yuan’s growing presence in the North. But today was no training day.

“We’ve received new equipment today, so I was asked to test its quality.”

“That’s not something you’d usually do.”

"You're right. I have a motive, if I'm being honest," Jing Yuan said. "I stayed because I wanted to spend time with your sister."

Luocha finally looked Jing Yuan in the eyes. “Are you… interested in her?”

Jing Yuan looked down and smiled slightly. "I hope I have your blessing."

“If there’s anyone my parents would want her to be with, it’s probably you.”

Jing Yuan curiously looked at him. “I answered your question. So, shouldn’t you answer mine?”

“I’m fine. I… passed my exam, so I can officially start training to become a doctor.”

“Well, this calls for a celebration.”

The last person Luocha was expecting to celebrate the good news with was Jing Yuan. But he was a good friend. So, Luocha nodded and pushed what he'd just heard to the back of his mind, not knowing that it wouldn't take long for him to confide in the commander.

“...which will ultimately help boost efficiency and productivity. Are there any questions?”

Jing Yuan is sitting at the end of a large desk, the latest project proposal in front of him. He barely got any sleep the night before as he was trying to piece everything together, and the ultimate question he came up with is whether there was a way to get all of his memories back… at once. He'd brought it up with Lan the other day, and the god's answer sounded too ominous.

“There has to be a trigger powerful enough,” Lan said.

Jing Yuan gestured for him to go on. “Like…?”

“Extreme happiness… sadness… hatred… an event that mirrored one of your past to trigger a powerful emotion. But”—Lan walked over and poured himself a glass of alcohol—”that’s just what I’ve heard. I haven’t tested this theory myself.”

“In other words, you don’t know,” Luocha said.

Lan shrugged. “I never had to get my memories back.”

Jing Yuan still has nothing to go on. How can he mirror a past event if he has no memory of them? That’s just ridiculous. Then, he thinks about you.

Jing Yuan subconsciously starts twirling the ring with his thumb. Do you know about this theory? You and he are clearly connected, but you hate him. While Jing Yuan has no idea what he did, he feels there's no other way. He needs to get back into your life… whether you like it or not. He likes to think he's doing you a favour.

His golden eyes flash toward the presenter as he crosses one leg over the other. After firing a series of questions, Jing Yuan says, "We need to address these problems first. Fix 'em, and then let's talk."

Jing Yuan is the first to leave the room, but it’s not long before a tall man wearing a black suit approaches him from behind.

“You have a visitor, Boss.”

Jing Yuan turns the corner. “Schedule him for later. I—”

“He says he’s willing to pay.”

Jing Yuan stops and turns around. “Who are we talking about?”

“The government official.”

Only one person comes to mind: the father of the latest victim of The Withering. They crossed paths years ago as Caelus's father almost put one of Jing Yuan's own behind bars. However, with Jing Yuan's blackmail, the situation quickly reversed. They would keep each other's dirty secrets and pretend not to know of one another for years. But after finding out about Caelus, Jing Yuan wonders how long it'd take for their paths to cross again.

Jing Yuan enters an exclusive area, and just before he steps into the elevator, he says, “Send him up.”

By the time Caelus’s father arrives at Jing Yuan’s office, Jing Yuan is sitting on a sofa with his laptop. When he hears the door open, he looks up.

“It’s been a while, Mr. Official.”

“Not long enough,” Caelus’s father says with a frown as Jing Yuan gestures for him to sit on the couch across from him.

“Oh, come now. Why the long face? We haven’t seen each other in years. The least you can do for me is smile.”

“I’m here for business.”

Jing Yuan crosses one leg over the other. “Well, shoot. Time is money.”

“...I need your help. I need you to find somebody.”

Caelus’s father reaches into his pocket, pulls out a note, and puts it on the table. Jing Yuan looks down and sees a scribbled message: your father’s one of the useless ones. can’t do anything about the disease that’s killing your brother. why don’t you die too

"Somebody sent that note to my daughter." Jing Yuan looks up as Caelus's father continues, "I checked all the security cameras around the house. Nothing."

“What about your son?”

“He says he’s fine.”

Jing Yuan almost feels sorry for the family. Who knows when Caelus's lie will blow up in his face? How devastated will his family be when they find out? Jing Yuan would almost pay to see their reaction.

This sounds like a job for the police,” Jing Yuan says. “You know… actual law enforcement.”

"I can't afford to wait. There's already an article that will run about the government's incompetence to discover anything worthwhile about this disease. I've managed to stall its release, and that's what I'm focusing on."

Jing Yuan can see the frustration all over the man's face. His furrowed brows, his inability to sit still, and the dark circles under his slightly red eyes. Jing Yuan almost finds it amusing. A father who’s more concerned about public opinion than finding a person who’s threatening his daughter? Well, whatever. As long as he’s willing to pay. Jing Yuan can make anything happen… as long as his client has the cash.

Jing Yuan twirls the ring on his finger with his thumb. "Why don't I solve both of your problems? At a price, that is."

Caelus’s father narrows his eyes. “As long it’s within reason.”

Jing Yuan slightly leans forward, looking at the man as if he’s his next meal. “Do you want results?”

Of course, Jing Yuan has his motive. Who's threatening Caelus’s father? How do they know about Caelus? How do they know about The Withering? Perhaps it’s just a psychopath. Jing Yuan vaguely knows about Stelle, so maybe it’s a deranged fan? Regardless, something tells him that whoever this is shouldn’t be taken lightly.

Jing Yuan smiles upon seeing the look on the other man’s face. It’s telling him everything he needs to know. He leans back and says, “I accept cash only, like always.”

◆◆◆

Ever since Luocha came under suspicion, you and Dan Heng made an active effort to check on Caelus every day. However, Caelus's hostility towards you doesn't go unnoticed. So, you've stopped your visits and left them to Dan Heng. After telling him about your special ability, you thought Dan Heng would consider telling Caelus. However, it's just recently Dan Heng tells you and Pom about his stance.

"I never thought I'd say this," Dan Heng said. "...But we can't use that to cure him."

"Are you thinking about the consequences?" Pom asked. "That Caelus could die through some other means?"

"That too. But"—Dan Heng sighs—"he's... been acting strange lately."

"In what way?" you asked.

"He's been telling me about who he used to be."

Pom tilted his head in confusion. "Who he... used to be? As in his past life?"

When you saw Dan Heng nod, a million questions came to mind. But most importantly: Where was getting Caelus getting this information from? Dreams? Visions? Was that why he was so hostile towards you?

"...This is going to sound crazy," Dan Heng said quietly. "But, I've noticed that the more the disease spreads, the more he tells me."

A small pause.

"I'm starting to think The Withering isn't really a disease... but more of an actual curse."

You're visiting Caelus today as you want to see for yourself how much Caelus knows. According to Dan Heng, Caelus hasn't talked about you, which makes you wonder if Caelus is purposely hiding something. While Dan Heng wants to go together, you might get a bit more out of Caelus if you go alone. Of course, there's also Luocha to watch out for. But you, Dan Heng, and Pom are one step ahead. At least... that's what you thought.

When you arrive at the hospital, you get a text from Dan Heng that he'll be there in a couple of hours as he's supervising an undergraduate chemistry class. You also get a text from a Pom that he has safely arrived at Stelle's place. She had messaged him, saying she wanted company as everyone else was busy.

You're about to reach Caelus's room when the door opens, and you stiffen upon seeing Luocha coming out of the room. As he closes the door, he looks over at you and smiles.

“It's been a while. Here to see Caelus, I assume.”

“How is he?” You hope you don't sound as tense as you think you do.

Luocha's face falls. "Not good, if I'm being honest." You put a hand on the door, but Luocha's hand is on yours so fast that it surprises you. "...You have something to do with this curse, don't you?" His voice is low, borderline threatening, and you're almost afraid to look at him.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

“You can’t play dumb forever… Cupid.” Your eyes widen when you hear the nickname. Finally, you look at him. He’s staring at you, but you’re no longer feeling like it’s the gentle doctor you first met. "That necklace... it's meant to protect you and you alone, isn't it?" At your silence, Luocha scoffs. "Caelus has been regaining his memories. He’s been telling me things… things that I don’t think you want to hear.”

You hate how it sounds like he’s one step ahead.

"Are you sure you should rely on one person?" You glare at him. "Do you even know what he's talking about?"

"I know about doppelgangers and reincarnations." His polite smile is back. "Your friend, Lan, was so kind to provide that explanation." You clench your fists. "I'll let you in on a little secret. I've known about The Withering long before Jing Yuan. My father was the first victim."

His father? Your heart almost stops. But if his father was the first victim, and Luocha was your brother in the past, did that mean the King was the first victim of The Withering? Your heart drops to the pit of your stomach. If you’re the one who created The Withering, why in the world would you curse your father?

"I've had suspicions that the disease isn't what it appears to be." Luocha smiles as if proud of himself. "I've withheld a lot of information."

"Why are you telling me this?"

Luocha steps toward you. You step back. This continues until your back is against a wall.

"Because I've been trying to figure out who started this damn thing in the first place. Why is it even here? And because of you, it looks like I can finally start piecing everything together." He smiles as if he's proud... of you. "I never thought you'd had it in you. You completely changed, Sister."

Your eyes widen.

"I don't know how much you know, but let me tell you something." His gaze turns cold. "There are no heroes in this story. Not even you." He nods toward Caelus's room. “Maybe you should talk to him.” Then, as if reading your mind, Luocha says, “I’m not going to keep him quiet.”

You hear him walk a few steps, and then, “Trust me, Sister… I’m not your enemy. Jing Yuan’s not your enemy. Not in this time period, at least.”

As Luocha finally walks away, you hear your heart hammer. You slowly look at Caelus's door. You want to take that step forward, but it's as if your body is frozen in place. What can possibly be awaiting you behind that door?

Suddenly, you feel a light breeze on the nape of your neck and flitters out to your shoulders. It’s as if you can feel someone’s hands on them, reassuring you, but when you turn around, the windows are closed. Then, you gently grip the pendant around your neck. You can do this. You have to do this. You have no choice. So, you turn around and open the door to Caelus’s room.

It’s eerily quiet when you slide the door open. You look around the nearly empty room and see Caelus sitting on his bed, facing the open window. The notebook sits open on the nightstand. When you get closer, a breeze comes in and flips the pages of the notebook. That's when you realize he's been using it… a lot. You see scribbles of illegible words, but then you start seeing drawings. But before you can get a closer look, Caelus suddenly speaks.

“It's been a while.”

You quickly look towards him, but he hasn’t turned to look at you.

“How are you feeling?” you ask.

Caelus looks over his shoulder. His eyes are slightly reddish, and the pigment has already reached the front of his neck.

“What do you think?”

“What have you been telling Luocha?”

Caelus looks back out the window. “Stories."

...Stories?

"The more this thing spreads, the more my story expands." He stands and fully turns to you. His head is slightly tilted, and one of his hands has been taken over by the pigment. “Today, I told him about the story of me... and you.” He walks toward you, and with a tight smile, he says, "Should I skip straight to the climax?"

You hold his stare.

"I helped Jing Yuan kill Young."

It felt like someone punched you in the gut, but the shock morphs into a bubbling rage…

The night was not nearly as quiet as the others. A crowd had gathered on the palace grounds. Some were holding torchers while other onlookers were whispering amongst themselves. You had just returned from the forest to the palace grounds to a growing chant of “Execute him!”

You forced your way through the crowd, your fear escalating with more of what you saw. Finally, when you reached the front, the scene ripped your heart out of your chest. Young was naked from the waist up, in handcuffs, and on his knees where his ankles were chained together. His back was riddled with deep scars; some still had blood oozing from the gashes.

“...No!”

You didn't even get close to him when two huge men grabbed you from either side. You quickly looked from side to side and saw they were your father's people.

“Let him go!”

One stared at you with dead-looking eyes. The other was looking at you as if you’d gone mad. Young slowly looked over his shoulder, and as soon as your desperate eyes met his, all he could do was give you a little smile.

“I was wondering when you were going to show.”

As soon as you saw Jing Yuan, everything snapped.

“You son of a bitch."

Jing Yuan stood in front of you, blocking your view of Young. Then, he leaned toward you and said, “Am I really the bad guy when I have so many people on my side?”

"If you kill him, you will kill the entire nation," you spat.

Jing Yuan almost laughed. "You think I'm dumb enough to let this start a war?" He cupped your face. "I'm smarter than that, Princess."

You literally spat in his face.

"Fuck you."

After wiping your spit from his face, Jing Yuan said in a low voice, "You really shouldn't tempt me, sweetheart." He lifted his hand, ready to snap his fingers. "I'm going to give you one chance to apologize. Or else Young gets the whip."

"Kill me instead." Your nails dug into your skin so forcefully, you almost bled. "Please." You couldn't stop the tears anymore. "Let him go."

“You’re willing to die for him?”

"Yes.”

Jing Yuan clenched his fists. He was angry. You could tell. The bob of his throat when he swallowed. He was glaring at you but turned the other way when you held his glare. “How romantic. Unfortunately, only one of you dies tonight.” Finally, he looked back. “Your fate will be worse than death.”

You couldn’t see it, but you heard the sound of a whip against flesh and Young’s muffled cry of pain that shattered your heart.

“...Please,” you begged. “Please stop."

When you heard footsteps approaching, you finally looked to the side and saw a young man with short, silver hair wearing a yellow and black hanfu.

"...You," you said quietly. The man was looking at you with such hatred that could only be explained if you had done something personal to him. It wasn’t until much later that you figured out the reason why. "Why are you..."

Jing Yuan suddenly snapped his fingers, and you saw a large man carrying an axe begin walking towards Young. When Jing Yuan stepped aside, you saw Young was now facing the crowd. Facing you. There were patches of dirt on his face, and there was no life left in his green eyes. Yet, when he saw you, you saw that familiar sparkle in his eyes. Coupled with that smile, it left you trembling.

You desperately struggled to free yourself from the two men. You were struggling so much that they had to force you to the ground. When the man raised his axe, tears were falling from your red eyes.

Young smiled and the wind carried the sound of his broken voice.

“...I love you.”

And the axe came down.

You can’t see it, but your eyes have become darker. You’re standing in front of Caelus with a hand around his neck. He's still looking at you as he tries clawing his way out but to no avail.

“...You.” Your voice sounded slightly distorted as you tighten your grip on his neck. You know he can’t breathe, yet you’re relishing in his suffering.

Suddenly, a hand is over yours, but it’s not Caelus. The touch is warm and gentle, and it’s when you look to the right that you see Dan Heng looking at you.

“...Let him go,” he says softly.

You don’t.

So, he tries again. “Please." There's a desperation in Dan Heng's voice that instantly snaps you back to reality. "Let him go.”

Your hand is trembling as you slowly release Caelus, and the man falls while holding his neck and coughing continuously.

Dan Heng takes your hand in his and puts another around your head. The way you’re pressed up against him, he can hear your thundering heartbeat. He reassuringly strokes your hair as he calmly says, “Everything’s okay.”

Dan Heng was on the train to the hospital when it entered a dark tunnel. He’d been thinking of you… and about Young. Young was in love with you, perhaps so much that he became tied to the world after his death. But, why? Was he waiting for you? Waiting for you to regain your memories so the two of you could move on together?

Dan Heng looked down as he contemplated his feelings for you. Were they genuine? Or were they because of his connection to Young? Was everything that was happening a repeat of the past? Things that he’d experienced with you… were any of them new?

When Dan Heng looked at his reflection in the door, he immediately sensed something was wrong. He turned and saw that the other passengers had disappeared, but he also saw Young who was standing in the middle of the empty aisle.

Was Dan Heng dreaming?

“You need to look after her,” Young said. " Help her.” His voice was fading away. “...Help her move on.”

Then, Dan Heng blinked once, and everything was as it should be.

“Let her go, Dan Heng.” Dan Heng looks at Caelus who slowly gets to his feet. “You saw what just happened. She’s dangerous.”

Dan Heng pushes you behind him as he says, “What’s gotten into you?”

As soon as he sees his friend's clouded eyes, Dan Heng knows something is not right. But before he can do anything, Lan suddenly appears in front of him. The god looks over his shoulder and says, “Take her and get out of here. Now.”

Dan Heng doesn't hesitate. Once you and Dan Heng are in the hallway, he notices the colour still hasn't returned to your face. He puts his hands on your shoulders, which makes you look up at him. But before he can say anything, you look back down. Instead of prying for answers, he hugs you in silence.

The door slides open, and Lan quickly slides it closed as he steps out.

“We need to talk,” he says. “All of us.”

Chapter 16

Tag list: @suoshiii @lordbugs @lxry-chxn @seirenspinel @tanspostsblog @theprinceofkhaos @nqctre @lunavixia @akwardbiscuit @kplatzman @sunsethw4 @hiqhkey @n8mareee

#dan heng x y/n #dan heng x reader #dan heng x you #dan heng #dan heng honkai star rail #honkai star rail dan heng #honkai dan heng #danheng fluff #dan heng fluff #danheng x y/n #danheng x you #danheng x reader

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numberonestuckyshipper · 2 months

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Don’t mind me, just feel like sharing the Barnes family that lives in my head

James “Bucky” Buchanan Barnes: The oldest sibling, hella protective of his siblings (only they are allowed to make each other miserable, anyone else will suffer). Huge nerd, loves sci-fi, good at most of telle things that he tries, he loves his family more than anything, it’s that simple

Steve(n) Grant Rogers: is one of the Barnes as far as anyone is concerned, most people actually believe that because of how much time he spends with them and how close he is with all of them. He and Bucky are the closest and know each other by heart, but he’s also really good friends with the girls and sometimes jokingly calls Winnie and George “Ma”, “mother”, “pa” and “father” usually when he’s being a kiss ass to piss of the siblings. Honestly he pretty much lives at their house at this point. He’s a Barnes sibling, not up for debate for any of them.

Mary-Anne “Annie” Charity (Sheldon-)Barnes: She’s aboit a year younger than Steve and two and a half years younger than Bucky, but honestly, she’s probably the most mature out of the bunch. She’s the mom of the friend group (yes the siblings are also pretty much a friend group, they love each other. Unrealistic from my experience but leave me alone) and she’s also the most helpful around the household. She’s the only Blonde in the biological Barnes family, which often helps Steve to blend in with them. She and Steve are besties, she had a huge crush on him when they were kids but got over it eventually, she likes to joke that Steve is her favorite brother when she’s messing with Bucky. She’s usually the one reasoning and lecturing the others but often ends up being the one to cover for them when the others are doing something stupid. Bucky used to call her “MAC” because of her initials to piss her off, and got her to tear up on her wedding day when he called her “MACS”. She got married to William Sheldon as soon as she was old enough to get married and had a son called Charles (everyone called him Charlie), Steve was his godfather.

Rebecca “Becca” Marjorie (Proctor-)Barnes: she’s three and a half years younger than Bucky and is the sibling that annoys him the most. Bucky and Becca are always finding ways to mess with each other and make the other miserable (figuratively speaking, they would never try to actually hurt each other). Annie is usually the one to split them up when they’re arguing. She looks a lot like Bucky and has a ton in common with him, and they both hate it and use it to annoy the heck out of each other. Later on she gets engaged to Arthur Proctor who asked for George, Bucky and Steve’s blessing to marry her. They got married after the war. She became an activist for civil rights and peace after the war. She and her husband Arthur died in a car crash in 1960. They were the Winter Soldier’s first mission.

Elizabeth “Lizzie” Madeline Barnes: depending on my mood, she’s between 16 and 10 years younger than Bucky. Either way, she’s the baby of the family. She’s the sweetest kid alive, and looks a lot like her siblings. She was one of the many people who believed that Steve was a Barnes, and broke down crying when she accidentally discovered the truth at the age of ten, running to Steve and begging him not to leave her even though he never had any intentions to do so. She’s a very smart kid who hangs on her older siblings’ every word. She trusts them never to lie to her, even when the truth is ugly, they do their best to explain things to her in a way she can understand (and not get traumatized by in the case of the war).

George Barnes: is their father, he lost his middle and ring finger of his right hand during the Great War, and the idea of war terrifies him though the first years of Bucky’s life were hard on him, he usually managed to ground himself with the presence of his children. His family is Jewish, and his uncle Randolph is a total dickhead that is not allowed near his children ever since that one time.

Winnifred “Winnie” Barnes: she’s the mother, she and George love Steve like one of their own, she’s an amazing cook and loves when Steve and Sarah stay over for meals, she’s very generous and especially during the depression when everyone was in need, she never hesitated to give up things to others who needed it more. She’s catholic like Steve and Sarah and raised her kids to know her religion, though they picked more up from their father

Sarah Rogers: is Steve’s mom, she doesn’t get to spend as much time with the children due to her need to work for a living, she loves how close Steve got to that amazing family and is always reassured that he has someone behind his back when he does something stupid and has another family to rely on when she’s at work. She and Winnie pretty much share custody of the kids, they love seeing her whenever she has the time

Anyway, just some personal headcanons that no one asked for!

#bucky barnes #steve rogers #sarah rogers #Winnifred Barnes #George barnes #becca barnes #barnes family #bucky barnes headcanon #barnes family headcanon

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smokingtomas · 11 months

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Goodbye, Hasashi

Summary: Takes place before the event of Mortal Kombat, you find yourself dealing with the certainty of losing Hanzo Hasashi, the captivating son of Shirai Ryu’s grandmaster whom you’ve been having a secret affair with, to someone else’s embrace in an arranged marriage. (Hanzo Hasashi/Female Reader)

AO3 / original Tumblr post / playlist

A/N: This fic is sort of an ode to the past– a fic that was written 7 years ago that I was highly insecure about. This was the last fic before I took a 6 month break and hadn’t created any fics for Mortal Kombat up until my recent one because this one really wore me out. I had been through hell and back to getting this published– quite literally had to drive myself to gloom to convey the emotions into this sole fic.

Reading it now, I’ve decided that I’m going to give it a proper love I hadn’t given back then. I really used to make fun of this– thinking this was cringey, which was unfair to my past self. But thankfully, I’ve grown up and am able to appreciate this a lot more. I didn’t even edit that much.

So If you are reading this, I thank you from the bottom of my heart. I really hope you could feel how much this means to me these days.

Whew, sorry for the long/sentimental A/N.

“We visited Harumi and her family today.”

As soon as he speaks of those words, your entire body feels numb. The teapot you were tilting earlier immediately bumps the cup over, causing some of the tea to spill and mess your tabletop up. You can feel your lower lip slightly tremble– thankfully biting the inside of your mouth helps a little bit, but you are certain the gloom within your eyes can’t hide the pain.

What kind of strange woman wouldn't be hurt when her beloved is forced to leave her to be tied with some other woman? And to make it even worse, for political reasons.

This is Hanzo Hasashi you’re talking about.

The feisty, passionate and… handsome son of the Grandmaster of Shirai Ryu whom you’ve been having a secret affair with for what, four-five months? Yes, it hasn’t been a lifetime, but for you, it does mean something in spite of how young you and him are.

Oh, but the relationship isn’t perfect. Both of you have to keep it a secret since you are nothing but a filthy huntress with no title and no one considering you-- your skills for survival are probably the only thing that has been keeping you alive for so long. If the Grandmaster ever found out about you two? Ah, the possibility of burying you alive is real.

Though to you, being in love with someone like Hanzo Hasashi and to have him love you back is like shooting for the stars, but got the moon instead. For once in your life, you feel like you’ve done something too good that this is blessed to you as your reward.

Turns out, it is nothing but an illusion. Because soon, he will fall into someone else’s embrace.

It’s not that he said something, but you knew that tonight is your last night with him as he mentioned a few nights ago about getting married the next day from now. No, you’re not actually planning on a sad farewell night, but staying positive is no simple task.

Time does fly indeed, and how you wish you realized this earlier. If it is possible to turn back time, you’d definitely do it just so you can hold him longer a few more times… or at least caress that pompous face of his every time he thinks he has impressed you with something he does...

You will miss the way how light always pierces through his hazel eyes and makes them look sort of aglow-- if you could, you would look at them forever. You will miss how he rubs his nose every time he gets nervous and he always tells you to stop teasing him about it.

You will miss how his stubble slightly pierces you every time he presses his face against your skin. How he knows it itches you but he keeps on teasing you with it anyway. Though he knows you like it every time he buries his face on the crook of your neck when he makes sweet love to you.

Oh, Hanzo… how could you survive without him now?

As you feel a tear rushing towards the brink of your eye, you bring a finger up and wipe it away… realizing how much time is wasted since the first time you laid your eyes on his features.

Those eminences of him that hit you all at once. That one sunny day when peaches were harvested; the day that’s impossible to forget...

It was the time of the month when peaches were blooming beautifully. Everywhere you looked-- from trees to the market stalls-- there were those ripe, mouthwatering goodness. The sun shone friendly along with the thin air that would occasionally blow the thin strands of your locks. Birds were swarming beneath the bright blue sky stretching majestically above you, and some of them that were perching on trees seemed to be enjoying the sweet smell of the sunset-colored fruit by the way they chirped so cheerfully.

And there you were with a belly filled completely with peaches you picked earlier, cozying yourself up above a larger, leafier tree on one of its bigger branches as you soaked up the warmth of the sun, resting your head above your hands. The crystal clear lake spreaded close to the tree streamed calmly in sync with the crisp air, sending those leaves slow dancing and making them let out a calming shrivel. This was the kind of surrounding that could send those insomniacs drift off in no time, and the drowsiness just kicked in to you.

Your eyes were getting heavier at this point, but you could care less-- you could drift off any second and you weren’t fighting it. Eyelashes swung as your mouth parted slightly in comfort. Oh, it really was a good day to sleep…

When you just thought nothing could bother you at this moment, crunches were heard next to your tree, followed by a sound of a frustrated male groan. Your eyes shot open at the remark and you knew something was caught in the trap you had set earlier today.

Now, you set the trap for animals-- something you could surely eat, but why was the male sound present?

Hastily, you maneuvered yourself and climbed down the tree. Of course, you were dying to find out what was going on, and what laid before your eyes was way out of your expectation that you felt your jaw drop slightly.

And there was Hanzo Hasashi; inside your net trap hanging strongly beneath a tree trunk, letting his mid-length hair down framing his solid cheek bone. Beads of sweat dripped from his temple and you were guessing he had been running. His callous fingers were shaking the net while his other hand held a whole bunch of peaches, and you could see some of them sliding off his grip onto the ground. Frantic was clearly drawn all over his face, but what you couldn’t get your head wrapped around was the fact that he was dressed in a lousy brown hoodie and torn, old cargo pants.

Instantly, you recognized that face-- who wouldn’t? This was the first time you’ve seen him up close and… well he didn’t look bad. But you figured it would be fun to mess with him since he always looked so serious.

“Well, well, well, look what we have here,” You uttered smugly as you swung your knife. “Was expecting a deer, but got the Grandmaster’s son dressed like a hobo instead.”

His forehead wrinkled at your remark as his lips formed a perfect ‘o’, “What the… how did you know?!”

“Easy, you got one of those kunai in your pocket,” You scoffed, “And your mask fell off.”

He did not look happy by the way he palpated his bare face before letting out a growl, obviously just realizing his mask went down to his neck, “Alright look, huntress! You need to help me off and hide me! Quick!”

“And how could you think I would do that, Hasashi?”

“Because I just stole these peaches from the market!”

As you placed your knife back in one of your boots, you almost bursted out of laughter hearing his explanation. The son of Grandmaster stealing fruits? Now, that was funny.

“What? Like you can’t afford it?” You mocked sarcastically.

“I was undercover and things sprawled out of my control so--” He snarled once again. “Listen! I don’t have time for this. The villagers are chasing me, and I need your help!”

“You know, help doesn’t come free these days. Even huntresses need some--” You cleared your throat, “Gold.”

Rolling his eyes in advance, he finally gave up, “Alright, I will hand you 50 gold coins if you let me off your net and hide me-- but quick!”

“50 golds? Okay, I’ll keep your stolen peaches for you.”

“100!”

“I’ll keep your peaches, and probably won’t eat them.”

“You’re robbing me, huntress!” He exclaimed irritatedly, “Final offer; 150 golds, and you must help me.”

Satisfied with his offer-- and messing around with Grandmaster’s son-- you finally agreed as you got your knife out and made your way towards him to free him. “Don’t have to ask me twice.”

As you were cutting the ropes off the branch, for a split second you thought you could feel his eyes on you. Reflectively, you looked up to meet him. From the distance so close, the features of his face hit you all at once; his perfectly carved bone structure with light stubble framing his… alright, you had to admit he’s gorgeous. Though what hooked you the most were those sharp hazel eyes.

And then you felt your heart skip a beat.

Trying to regain your focus, you chose to ignore this weird feeling as you shook your head back to reality, keeping your hand on the work.

“Can’t you cut faster? They’re coming!” Exclaimed Hanzo.

“Hey, I could easily leave you here if you keep that attitude.” You replied without stopping your rough work.

Thankfully, he only clenched his teeth at your remark-- that was the least he can do, so you couldn’t complain.

Before you knew it, all the ropes were cut and his feet were set on the solid ground. All the peaches he was holding earlier fell onto the ground and you think he could care less in the way he sighed in relief.

“Now go climb that big, leafy tree over there. As high as your feet can take you.” You ordered as you pointed to the tree you were resting on earlier. Without saying anything else, Hanzo quickly rushed towards the tree while you cleared his tracks by covering your net trap and peaches with some fallen leaves.

As footsteps and chatter were heard from a distance, you spread the leaves as nonchalantly as you could as if you were just about to set a trap-- just another day in the office.

Sooner than you had expected, a swarm of villagers were moving towards you, and they were bringing all kinds of things they could use as a weapon: a stick, shoes, even some fabric which you had assumed would be used to catch Hanzo.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa! Stop now!” You commanded, stretching your hands out to them as they immediately paused their tracks, “You take another step and all of you will get inside an animal trap I just set up hours ago.”

“Did you see a street boy coming this way?” Asked one of the villagers, “He stole my peaches!”

“I’ve been here for hours, and I’ve seen nobody. I can’t help you.” You replied.

“But I saw him go this way!” Another villager shouted, “And look! There’s a peach on the ground!”

Good God, what kind of eyes do these people have?!

“Hey, I picked those earlier as a part of my trap!” You lied.

“Bullshit! I don’t believe her! It’s just her way to save her kind. I say we go this way!” Another villager decided to interlope and crunk the heat of the situation.

“For the last time, I’ve been here for hours and I don’t see nobody coming by, alright? If you don’t believe me, please take another step so you all can rot together inside my trap!” You threatened the villagers which sent them into dead silence. Some of them actually showed fear on their faces and were debating if they should go back.

“Hey, what are you all waiting for? Go! Now! You’re scaring my food!” You demanded as the villagers went another way with nothing left to say-- you could hear some of them curse behind their breaths, though.

As you watched them slowly disappear, you made your way towards the tree on which Hanzo was hiding as you looked around to make sure the situation was thoroughly cleared.

Looking up, you placed a palm close to your mouth as you shouted at him, “Get down, Hasashi! You’re safe.”

“Nicely deceived, huntress,” He complimented as he showed himself beneath the leaves while he tried to climb down, “Those people could’ve hurt you easily.”

“I may be a woman, but I’m immune to pain, y’know.” You scoffed.

Hanzo stopped in his track regarding your remark, and furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, “A little hard to believe, but--”

His voice trailed off as his feet stepped on a fragile branch and immediately lost his balance. It all happened so fast that the next thing you know after you shut your eyes in reflex of him falling off the tree was his robust figure over you.

The coarse feeling of the ground surely did not help the blinding pain on your head and hip.

“Ouch! Ah...” You grunted in pain as were him, “Fuck, you’re heavy as hell!”

Out of your expectation, Hanzo bursted out laughing at your remark over you as he rearranged his arms next to your head instead of immediately raising up to his feet. In this sort of inappropriate position of his, you could feel his perfectly sculpted chest above you and the unexpected tremor lining between your legs.

You were certain you could feel yourself blushing over the somewhat awkward situation, but in that moment, you were sure of one thing; he’s a hard candy with a surprise center.

But no, you weren't going to convey your thoughts aloud.

“What’s so funny, Hasashi?” You snapped under him.

“I knew you weren’t immune to pain,” He replied playfully, “I’m always right.”

“You did this on purpose?!” You shouted as you gave his shoulder a push in order for you to raise up, “Ugh! Get off me you sicko!”

Even though he was still laughing uncontrollably, he did as you say and ascended up to his feet. He stretched a hand for you, but instead of taking it, you pouted your lips and got up by yourself.

Not because you didn’t want to, you just refused to give him any ideas.

As he regained his self control and his laugh slightly dimmed-- but obviously still couldn’t get over it, he said: “Alright, alright, I apologize. And thank you, for your help.”

“For a Shirai Ryu, that was really shallow of you,” You pouted, crossing your arms, “But I guess I can let it go.”

As you were trying to straighten your dirty outfit, Hanzo asked: “So, have a name, huntress?”

Surprised by what you had heard, you turned your attention to him and scorned, “Yeah right, asking her name after getting them under you-- way to go, Hasashi!”

“It’s Hanzo,” He chuckled, “If you want to retrieve your gold, we need to see each other in a few days.”

“Is this how a Hasashi flirt?”

He shrugged at your remark, “I’m not exactly denying it, but suit yourself.”

You quickly turned your head away as you felt your cheek heating up. Despite him being good at this, you weren’t going to let him be an asshole about it.

Gathering your things as if you were ready to leave, you let out a chuckle at his remark as you hung your belongings on one shoulder, “Keep your gold, Hanzo. I don’t need it,” You assured before throwing him one of the peaches he had stolen which he reflectively caught with one hand.

“I only need one of these,” You added, sinking your teeth into another peach in your hand without caring about its juice that dripped all over your palm before you took some steps back away from him, “These are good peaches you have stolen.”

As the sight of him got slightly further, you could see him stretching both of his arms as he raised his tone, “So should I see you or not?”

“I don’t know, what do you think?” You shouted.

“I really think I should!”

At his assertion, you stopped your tracks and sank your teeth inside the peach once more as you shrug, “Well, you’ve found my hideout.”

As you turned your attention back on the road, you found yourself smiling. As much as you were dying to see his facial expression, you decided not to and keep this little game of yours happening.

Without knowing what the future will bring.

“Are you there?”

“Uh… yeah, yeah.” Startled by the depth of his voice, you hurry your fingers and wipe the vestiges of your tears, settling your feet back to earth as the trip down the memory lane has you caught up. “I just-- I made a mess.”

You grab the steaming cup of tea as you make your way to the edge of the bed and hand him his beverage, sitting next to him afterwards. You’re not sure how you can make it through this night, but you need to try as if nothing’s going to happen tomorrow. For his sake.

“So uh…” Trying to sound as normal as possible, you mutter while he takes a sip from the cup, “How is she?”

Hanzo deliberately retreats the cup off his lips and rests his forearm above his thigh. The way his head falls tells you that sorrow is consuming him alive. His hazel eyes that usually glow with spirit are now covered by woe.

As a sigh escapes his mouth, he simply replies, “She’s… kind.”

“I bet she’s beautiful.” Your lips twitch up into a wry smile. “More beautiful than what people have said about her.”

For what you have heard about Harumi, her beauty is beyond compare to even the most beautiful flower. Her long hair is the color of a midnight sky with ivory skin wrapped around her slender, small figure. People even say that her honey colored eyes beam brighter than the moonlight, and when she speaks, her voice is as soothing as a summer rain.

At your remark, Hanzo takes a short pause before he weakly shrugs, still refusing to turn his attention to you.

As you run your fingers through his soft, black locks, your gaze is locked at his complexion you’ve grown to love that not even the chill of misty, starless night sky displayed beneath your window pane overshadowed his beauty. No matter how much you’d love to mourn with him, you know you need to stay strong for him and not making this fucked up situation even worse.

Though if you look back, you wish you’d never meet him.

But ah, it’s too little too late now; you’ve fallen for him. You should’ve been ready for the risk of having to give him up to someone else-- someone better than you. You must be kidding yourself if you think he’d actually be your forever.

“It doesn’t matter,” He suddenly utters, “She’s not you.”

“And that’s better, right? I mean, look at me.” You scoff, ”Who am I kidding? I--”

“Can you stop making this about you for once?!” Cutting you off, his strenuous voice suddenly fills the empty room as he recoils your fingers off him. His profound gaze towards you clearly shows nothing but unhappiness.

“Hanzo, who says this is about me? I’m just trying to make it better for you.” You assure firmly.

“All you’ve been doing is making this worse for me!”

“How is that so?”

“Did you think I asked for this? Did you think I wanted to make this choice?” He bleaks. Eyes gleaming with pain, and you don’t think you’ve ever seen him like this.

“Well, no, but--”

“Then your attempt on making it better is useless! Because it’s sad enough for me to have to choose the clan over you!”

As he winds his attention away from you and buries his face above his palm, you sense the frigid of the night starts seeping inside your bones. This empty space you call your sanctuary feels even more depressing than it already is. You gently press your palms against the wonky mattress so it’ll make some noise within the silence that’s slowly killing you.

At this moment, you’re lost for words. You feel like you should say something, but your jaw feels rigid and your throat is just drying away. Even the spider in the corner of the room seems to have more of an idea of what it’s doing as its little feet slowly knitting its web.

Unlike you. Clueless of what to say-- let alone doing something about it. You know you shouldn’t have fallen this deep with someone as powerful as the son of Shirai Ryu’s grandmaster, but for some reason your heart calls for him, and you knew in that moment you laid your eyes on his hazel ones, he’s what it’s longing for.

But why is it longing for someone you know you shouldn’t go for? How you wish you could rip your heart off your chest and throw it into the ocean, even though you know it wouldn’t be as painful as how you’re feeling right now.

“Wow…” You finally mumble slowly, relieving the silence.

“What?”

“You’re madly in love with me, aren’t you?”

At your remark, Hanzo gradually lifts his head and turns his interest to you. Unlike before, he looks much calmer right now, but you can tell he’s still absorbing the pain of this state like a sponge. It’s like he knows you already know the answer to your own question-- heck, you’re not even sure why you asked such a question in the first place.

But one thing you know for sure-- whatever his answer is, it’s going to crush your soul.

Whilst he elevates his shoulders, he lets out a sigh. “To the point where I would actually give it all up,” Hanzo weakly answers.

At this point, you can already hear your heart cracking through your ears.

“By the Gods…” You grumble, running your fingers through your locks as you shortly stand up and taking a few steps away from him, heading to the small, dusty window ahead of you. Greeting you is a cloudy night sky-- a sky so cloudy that even the moon chooses to hide itself underneath the thick, gray clouds; a bed of sky that perfectly describes your feelings.

In a perfect world, if someone just told you they’re madly in love with you, your heart will fly as if it had wings of its own. Turns out in your case, the wings your heart once had are torn apart by force.

You know he loves you-- he’s said it before. But madly? Oh, how you wish you could ask him to stay. Though what’s breaking you the most is that you know you couldn’t.

As you feel your face heats up and clumps of tear start to cloud your vision, you can hear the bed squeaking with Hanzo’s footsteps following behind as he asks for your conviction, “Aren’t you?”

You press your palms against your eyes, gulping hard so your answer won’t be as croaky. After all, the point is to hide your sorrow from him.

Alas, your attempt seems to fail as you feel a tear slide down your left cheek, and you just find it hard to even contain yourself, “To the point where the whole world shatters with my heart when you told me you’re marrying somebody else.”

All of the sudden, you can feel two robust arms gently wrapped around your figure together with a strong cheekbone resting on the side of your face. The familiar warmth instantly drowns you in and you welcome the strong arms in your embrace. You don’t even mind the stubble that you normally would push away because of how it pierces through your skin, but you know even your skin will miss the slight roughness when it’s gone.

“I know,” Hanzo responds simply by leaving a peck on your temple, “I’m sorry…”

“I’m sorry too…” You bring one hand to caress his cheek, which slowly trails down to the side of his neck, “Shirai Ryu needs you, Hanzo. Don’t ever give it up, especially for me.”

“I just never thought that-- I would have to lose you for it.” He brittles, keeping his gaze far away as if he’s looking for some understanding.

“It’s the risk we should’ve prepared for.” You enlighten him as you turn yourself around and face him, cupping his jaw afterwards. His hand slowly slides down at your movement and you adore how they circle your waist perfectly. “ If I could turn back time, I really wish we’d never met-- let alone giving you a helping hand. Because even then I know, if I ever fell for you, I could never get back up.”

As your hands gradually travel to the nape of his neck, you pull him closer to you as he closes his eyes. His heavy breath pools down your frame and you add, “And now, I guess it got the best of me.”

At your confession, Hanzo stays still as if he's decided to get lost in your embrace and enjoy the closeness between him and your features. His hands stay ringing on your lower back and you don't think you'd want him to ever let go.

At the same time your fingers dig through his scalp, you whisper as you let out a feeble smile, “But you're my sweetest doom, Hasashi. And I've never felt more alive.”

It feels like you haven't had time to absorb your next move, but the next thing you know is that his lips brushes against yours like a drop of water in the middle of Sahara-- a kiss so chaste, so pure it could brace even the faintest heart.

As soon as he retracts himself, he mumbles, “Anata wa watashi no yume no josei da.”

You're the woman of my dreams. His words are like a magnet to your soul and you’re instantly drawn to him. Another drop of tear slithers down your cheek as you let out a weak chuckle, and your lips yearn for him in a blink of an eye.

Against his lips, you let your lips slow dance with his moist ones as if it has a mind of its own, cupping his jaw and you let his hands roam every inch of your body. In this very tranquility-- and with his lips attached to yours, what’s been troubling your mind seems to be forgotten. Maybe making these last moments just for the two of you to embrace might be the best.

Still, you and Hanzo devour each other in your own utopia, and you’re not planning on letting go soon. Even when the heat of his hands slowly but skilfully undo the buttons of your top, your mind has its own way to stop working.

And as if new minds are planted at your fingertips, you let them do their work in unclasping his belt and out of his uniform.

You’re not sure how long it takes for your back to finally feel the softness of the bedsheet, but you know at that moment, your brain has retired and your heart is at work.

And for the rest of the night, there are only moans, ragged breathing, and the creak of the bed to be heard.

“I love you. Did you know that?” Hanzo’s voice is low and tense.

His gaze meets yours in the dim room filled with candle light. You rest your head above his shoulder as his arm wrapped around your figure. Legs intertwined and there’s nothing you love more than how his bare, warm skin collides with yours in silence under the sheet. The way his thumb slowly flatters your chin lets you know that he means what he says.

“Kind of,” With a smile, you nod, “You’ve said it a few times by now.”

You don’t need anymore assertion from him by the way he harbors his lips on your forehead softly. You’re not sure what it is with the forehead kisses he gives, but all you know is that they give you the thrill, and you can even feel it even through his fingertips that still caresses your back.

“Hanzo,” You call him tenderly, to which he responds with a small hum, “Do you have any regrets?”

For a split second, his forehead wrinkles as if he’s thinking about the true meaning of your random question, but he doesn’t keep you waiting until you start to get nervous.

“Ah, regrets?” He sighs, “I think my life itself is based on it.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well… by now you must have been aware that being born into a clan isn’t something I ask for. When I grew up and accepted it, my father didn’t allow me to participate in the clan’s business-- quite strange, but again, I accepted it until he proposed this...”

His voice suddenly trails off before he rolls away from you. Your body still lies above his arm, but the empty gaze he’s showing tells you that he’s trying his best to stay composed. Even though you swear for a split second there you see his eyes sort of glisten.

“...forced marriage I don’t even want, and making it the only way for me to be involved in Shirai Ryu.” Hanzo continues.

“I’m sorry…” You whisper weakly, not knowing what to say but to move your body closer to him and rest your palm on his chest, supporting your weight with your other arm.

A hopeless sigh leaves his mouth at your remark. His eyes are fixed to the torn out paint mark on the roof as if it’s the most fascinating thing in the world, but you know the corner of his eyes are watching you.

Despite the woe that is drawn clearly through his face, he still looks beautiful.

Shortly, however, he shifts his body to your direction so you’re now face to face as he mirrors your position, causing the sheet to maneuver in sync with the movement of his solid figure.

“But do you know what my biggest regret is?” Hanzo triggers.

You shrug in response, by which he answers, “It’s not being able to choose you.”

His words sure don’t catch you by surprise-- you’ve known all along about his feelings towards you, but it sure leaves your stomach knotting and your gaze to drop.

When you thought things couldn’t get any worse, he adds as he reaches for your hand, “See, I’ve never thought about marriage until I-- until I fall in love with you. Since then, I always thought if I ever got married, it was going to be to you.”

And in this moment, your heart drops. And it’s smashed into pieces.

You wish you could decide your own fate if you knew you were going to fall this deep for him. You wish you’d been born someone else-- someone like Harumi just so you could stay with Hanzo. Or at least you wish your soul could leave your body and stay inside Harumi’s so you could still feel the warmth of his body next to you every night.

And in this moment, you hate yourself as much as you hate the universe.

It hurts to be you. It hurts so much that the pain seeps into your chest. You wish you could go up on a limb and pull your hair so hard that it pricks your scalp as you scream your heart out to the universe for such an injustice.

Breathing seems like no easy task as your vision gets blurry with a layer of tear in your eyes, and it’s about to stream freely anytime soon. You’re just thankful your face is dipped and Hanzo can’t see how much of a blubbering mess you are.

“I-I don’t know what to say…” With a croaky voice, you mumble.

And the unbearable tear finally drips.

“Shush, hey.” Hanzo’s voice is soothing. A thumb of his is brought up to your cheek as it wipes off your tear, “I’ve never seen you cry before.”

You decide to ignore his remark and keep your face to the sheet. Besides, it seems pretty reasonable to cry-- you can’t possibly stay rock hard when your world has appeared to turn upside down.

Lifting your chin up so your eyes meet his, he despondently says, “Maybe this is how we are destined to be-- you and me, against the universe. I just wish we could win this battle by… coming clean.”

“Don’t, Hanzo. Please… It’s too late now.”

“I guess you’re right.” He sighs, taking a short pause. But then a ray of light emerges within his face, “But Harumi will be the one moving here once we get married. Nothing is going to change between us, I will still be seeing you every night. Here.”

You raise an eyebrow in confusion at his statement, “You mean… we’ll still see each other when you’re married?”

“Yes. Why wouldn’t I?”

Surprisingly, you’re not feeling better-- your heart is still broken and it refuses to fix itself even when Hanzo tells you nothing’s changing. Inside, you know it’s not entirely true.

But for some reason, you find yourself fetching him an uncertain smile realizing your head goes empty at his words.

And your body still freezes as he moves even closer to you before his lips reach for yours tenderly. His palm finds your jaw before you find yourself, once again, under his mercy.

Oh, you’re dying to say a word-- about how wrong this feels, but you forget that the power of his kiss could shed away even the hardest problems.

And that’s exactly what it’s doing as you find yourself lost within it.

“Nothing is going to change between us, I will still be seeing you every night. Here.”

Those words Hanzo said keeps echoing in your head like it’s shouted in one hollow room. No matter how many times you try massaging the bridge of your nose or even simply shut your eyes, drifting into a peaceful slumber appears impossible.

You shift your head to your left, and there he is. Eyes closed, looking serene with his lips perfectly formed in one single line. The sound of his unwavering breaths could usually doze you off, but not tonight.

Because deep down, you know it won’t be yours to hear the next day.

Your hand reaches out for his stubble, and the way your hand gently caresses it is as if it knows it’ll be the last time you feel the slight pierce. You know you will surely miss how it feels on the back of your hand that slides softly on the curve of his cheekbone.

No-- you knew even then you have to leave him some time, and you’re afraid the moment has arrived.

As you gaze into his aristocratic frame, your brain searches for a reason to stay-- for you to possibly have him near you as long as you can.

But no matter how hard you dig, the thought of the future always buries the hope back even deeper. The thought of his warmth being someone else’s to cherish leaves a huge burden in your heart.

And no, that is not the only thing that troubles you-- what if they have children someday? Of course, Hanzo would be happy to have his descendants, and he’s going to love them with all his heart.

And in time, you know he will eventually fall for Harumi.

At those thoughts, you can feel as if a dagger stabs your heart repeatedly, but the pain is nothing compared to the fact that this is the last time you will witness his fair looking face.

And that… you have to let yourself out of his life.

Right now, there’s no use holding the tears back-- you let them stream freely this time as your mind wanders to the happier times you’ve spent with Hanzo, and how you wish you could do something to turn back time and let yourself showered with joy all over again.

But even by sacrificing your soul to the most powerful God, you know it’s not feasible.

With a heavy heart, you wipe away your tears before forcing the stiffness of your feet to move and out of the sheet, making sure to keep your movement slowly so you don’t wake him up.

Keeping yourself as stealthy as possible, you put on your clothes and gather your things before you sit in one corner of the room to write him a farewell letter, glancing one in a while at his direction. You can feel your hand shaking as tears keep flowing down your cheek, but you try your hardest to power through the sorrow and ignore those tears that drop on the paper.

Dearest Hanzo,

I'm sorry I have to leave you like this, but I can't stand the thought of me being in the middle of your marriage. I understand this is not a part of your will, but you will have to learn to love her in time, just like you did to me.

I want you to know that this is hard for me to do, but I know I'm leaving you in a good hand-- she will take care of you and love you with all her heart. For that, I'm grateful, and I'm lucky.

But if by any chance we meet again in the future, I'm hoping to see the same spirit and light I've witnessed in you these past couple of months. By then, I can always remember that one summer we spent under the peach tree, and how it will always bring joy to my heart.

Even though I might not be the one that puts that smile on your face, knowing you're well and happy is more than enough for me.

I love you, always.

P.S: Anata wa watashi no yume no otokoda.*

Finished writing the letter, you slowly maneuver to his side of the bed and you kneel down, placing the letter neatly next to his resting face as you take one last glance at his perfection.

After landing your lips swiftly on his cheek, you stroke him and slowly whisper, “Goodbye, Hasashi.”

As you step out the door, you turn your head back to this worn-out hideout you’ve called your sanctuary for the last year-- the place you’ve made most memories at, and you know you’re not going to easily forget everything.

Now, you’re not sure where your feet will take you. You have to survive in some other strange place and start a new life on your own, going back to the solitude you haven’t felt ever since your first encounter with Hanzo Hasashi.

You’re not sure how you’re going to survive without him by your side, but as you sweep the tears off your cheek and move forward, you know you somehow will.

*you’re the man of my dreams

#hanzo hasashi #scorpion #mortal kombat #mortal kombat 1 #fanfiction #ao3 #my fics #hanzo hasashi x reader #scorpion x reader

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