Eclipse

May night descending be a mere eclipse;

Dim light hung close, but brushing harmless by

May shadows curl in sleep with softer curves

Til gleaming slivers wisp to brighter day

May sun’s bright rays ever ’round corners be

The lamps mere stopgap for the light to come

The cooling winds bring nothing but relief

To sweat-slick skin in summer’s sneaking burst

Between winter and spring. Stranger and friend

Alike shall pour onto the new-mow’d lawn,

Impromptu-picnic-party in full force.

Press safety glasses into your friends’ hand

Stare up towards the moon’s new waltzing dance-

The dark has passed. It’s alright. Go to class.

hickeys | jjk | m | drabble

[ ! ] this is a “bad influence” drabble

— summary; Jungkook gets a bit jealous. Not that he’d ever admit it. 

— contents and warnings; pwp, smut, the endless adventures of badboy!jk x goodgirl!reader, enemies with benefits, jealousy/possessiveness!!, kind of angry sex (it’s one-sided, jk is going through a Moment), unprotected sex, marking (hickeys, mentions of bruises), dirty talk, overstimulation, creampie, mentions of oral (f rec) and of cum eating, jk has a big dick, the oc being clueless but overall having a good time 

— words; 2,2k 

— author’s note; this was supposed to be shorter but, well, that’s the story of my life. A few people asked for a bit of jealous!jk so here I am to deliver it 😌 Inspired by this ask I got. 

~ 

Jungkook hated the wintertime. He hated the fact that you no longer used skirts because of the cold weather, hated that you had to go away for a few weeks because of winter break and, above all, hated those stupid turtlenecks you wore. 

Not because you didn’t look good in them — in fact, he had grown to appreciate them over the weeks, the way they made your breasts pop out and how your body felt so comfortable and warm against his — but because it became extremely easy for you to cover up the hickeys he gave you. Which completely missed the point of even having hickeys in the first place. 

“Are you doing what I think you’re doing?” You asked him, fingers pulling slightly on the messy strings of his dark hair. Jungkook was hovering above you in bed, his mouth glued to the skin of your neck, sucking on the flesh. He simply moaned in response, hoping that the roll of his hips against yours would make you shut up. Which obviously didn’t happen. “You better not be doing it.” 

Jungkook pulled away from your skin with a pop!, watching the blossoming red that appeared close to your jaw. It would be hard to cover up that one. “And what if I am?” He smirked, placing a kiss against your lips. His cock was deep inside you, and it was incredibly difficult to argue with him when he was fucking you so well. Not that it would stop you from trying. “What are you going to do about it?” 

You playfully hit him on the shoulder, the frown on your face only making him smile wider. “You’re such a jerk, I’m going to spend all the concealer I have left with this one,” you complained, and Jungkook hummed and leaned back towards your neck, resuming his devilish ministrations. Only one hickey wouldn’t be enough, Jungkook realized, he wanted you to go out to buy more makeup for that. “What’s the deal with you today?” You tried again.

Jungkook’s irritated groan vibrated throughout your skin, his hands tightening around your hips as a flame of anger sparked inside his chest. His deal was that you had cancelled on him at least three times last week to go out with some stupid guy named Jimin from your Wednesday afternoon class. He knew that he shouldn’t care about it — you two were obviously not exclusive, barely even a thing, and you didn’t seem to give a single fuck when he told you about one of the girls that he was going out with. And yet there he was: pissed off out of his mind because someone else might have interest in you, fucking you hard into the mattress because he wanted you to remember that no one could be as good as he was. 

There was also a second layer of indignation when it came to that subject: Jungkook was frustrated with himself because he was balls deep inside your pussy and he couldn’t even focus on it without thinking about your stupid date. It was the fourth week of the semester, he hadn’t seen you for the entirety of winter break, and it was the first time that he was fucking you in your bed (since your roommate was out in some idiotic spiritual retreat). He could actually have you for as long as he wanted, as loud as he wanted, not a single worry about being interrupted. And how was he using that time? Being jealous of a guy he barely even knew, just because he took you out for coffee or whatever. 

It really wasn’t his best moment.  

“Jungkook, that’s so good,” you cried out, sucking him out of his thoughts. Jungkook grunted at the desperate tone of your voice, his name sounding so perfect coming from your mouth, and he just wanted to hear more of it. His cock was slipping in and out of you with ease, your wetness dripping down his length, and he forced himself to pay attention to you for the rest of the night. “I’m getting close.” 

“Yeah?” Jungkook groaned and pressed his forehead against yours — he could tell that already from the way you were tightening so perfectly around him, hugging his cock like you were meant to take it. “You like when I fuck your pussy like this, baby?” 

“Y-Yeah, I love it.” You closed your eyes, back arching off the bed as he continued to drill his fat cock in and out of you. No matter how many times he gave it to you, you couldn’t get used to the incredible pressure of his girth against your walls, filling you up so perfectly. “Feels so good…” 

“Is this all for me baby?” Jungkook finished his sentence with a particularly hard slam of his hips against yours — you didn’t even need to ask him to fuck you rougher, he already knew that was what you wanted. His eyes were a deep dark storm, glued to your parted lips as you moaned out for him, your perfect little cunt pulsating around him. Jungkook could only think about how wonderful you felt, how he couldn’t find someone better even if he tried. “Is this pussy mine? Was it made for me?”

Jungkook was fucking you so well that you could not help but nod, a pathetic whimper tearing itself from your throat as your hands fumbled to hold onto the nape of his neck. Your nails scratched his skin, the sensation making him groan. 

“Yeah, it’s yours.” You said it because you knew that it was all pretend, all his weird possessiveness that he only showed when he was hitting that deep inside you. Jungkook also knew that it was bullshit — but he allowed himself to dive into that fantasy as he felt himself throb inside you. “Fuck, Jungkook, I’m really close.” 

But he didn’t relent. Jungkook shoved his head on the curve of your neck, grunting as he quickened his pace in and out of you. He could feel your thighs trembling, your pussy fluttering around him, and yet it didn’t feel like it was enough. “Say it again,” he roared, hands digging to the flesh of your hips. It would leave a mark, both of you were aware of that, and yet there was a shared sense of wonder when you saw the purple bruises that he would leave behind. “Say that it’s mine.” 

“This pussy is yours, Jungkook,” you whined, head pressed hard against the soft pillows. At that point, you’d say and do anything he asked you to. “O-Only yours.” 

“Good girl,” he praised, his voice hoarse and deep as sin. Jungkook was drilling into you like a madman, hoping that the ache between your legs would be enough to remind you of him, of what he could do to you. He wanted you to keep that in the back of your head next time you had to pick between him and some other dude who wouldn’t know how to treat you. “All mine, this is all mine. Made for me.” 

He quickly got lost in his own praises, mind whitening out at the pleasure that monopolized his body. When you came around him, just as perfectly as you had many times before, Jungkook felt a wave of pride washing over him. It pierced its sharp teeth in his flesh, sucked him out of his worries — suddenly he didn’t give a shit about Jimin from your Wednesday class, because he knew that no amount of stupid coffee dates would ever equate to the way he had you. It was just a matter of time before you realized that as well. 

He felt you shivering beneath him, the way you always did when your pleasure was starting to become a bit too much. Jungkook leaned back so he could see your face, that blushy mess that got him sinking deeper inside you, the thin veil of tears that swam over your unfocused eyes. He would bet real money that Jimin from Wednesday class wouldn’t get you like that in a million years. Not that he was jealous or anything. It was just a fact. 

“J-Jungkook, that’s too much,” you whined. 

And he knew that it was, but he also wanted you to feel it all, and wanted you to cum around him as many times as you could. After all, you finally had some alone time, so he was definitely going to make good use of it. 

“Take it for me, baby,” he asked breathlessly, the rising pitch of his voice signaling that he was close too. Jungkook could feel his own orgasm growing closer, building up at the base of his spine and tugging at his balls, threatening to overflow. “Because I’m not done with you yet.” 

You bit your lip, fighting against a sob as he continued his frantic movements. You wanted to be good for him, wanted to fight through that sensitivity for him. But sometimes it was hard to focus, and the space between the pain and the pleasure could be a bit too long sometimes. “A-Are you close?” You asked. 

“Yeah, but it doesn’t matter,” he spat. Jungkook’s eyes zeroed in on your own, watching as a coat of desperation painted your features. “What’s the matter, baby? You don’t wanna get eaten out after I’m done here?” 

“God, Jungkook,” you said. If you weren’t so lost in the afterglow of your orgasm, you’d probably argue with him further, perhaps try and ask for the millionth time what had possessed him. But you seriously couldn’t be bothered with any more arguments and your brain wasn’t fully functional yet, so you settled for a quick and objective, “Are you trying to kill me?” 

Jungkook chuckled, lowering himself so he could place a kiss against your lips. “I'm trying to make you feel good. Let me eat my cum out of you, baby,” he teased, feeling as your walls pulsated around him at the idea. The fact that he hadn’t cum yet was a miracle on its own, because he had been about to tip over for a while now. “Unless you want to keep it inside you.” 

The interesting part was that Jungkook didn’t fully understand his second option until it had spilled from his lips. Now that it had been spoken out loud, manifested into the universe if you will, it made his cock throb with the mental imagery of you walking around stuffed with his cum, making other guys think they had a chance when you were already his. He’d seriously have to try that sometime. 

Before he could stop himself, his hooded eyes centralized on the hickeys he had embellished your neck with, and his marking was enough to make him spill himself inside you, painting your walls with waves of his warm cum. Jungkook called out what sounded like a broken version of your name, throwing his head back and listening to the wonderful whimpers you were producing for him. Just for him. 

At that point, both of you were considering buying your roommate something as a way to thank her for her wonderful idea of a spiritual retreat. 

Jungkook breathed out hard and removed his cock from your pussy, watching as the white liquid dripped between your glistening folds, accumulating on the sheets. If you weren’t so exhausted, you’d probably have yelled at him for ruining your mattress. 

“Have you made up your mind?” He asked, flickering his gaze up at you. You were such a pretty mess, and he lived for the fact that it was all because of him. “Wanna keep it in or want me to eat it out?” 

Honestly, he realized there was no wrong choice and, yet, he wanted to know what you would pick. 

You bit your lip and, after a moment of hesitation, you answered. “Eat it out,” you said. 

Jungkook smirked, lowering his head between your legs. “Good girl.” 

~ 

Jungkook saw you wearing a scarf the next day and he wanted to smack himself across the face for not considering that possibility. It hid all his efforts to mark you, didn’t make you nervous talking to other people. He could see from the faint coat of sweat on your face that you were feeling hot, but he also saw you smirking at him enough times to know that you were planning to endure that for as long as necessary. He was stupid to believe he’d actually get what he wanted for once: it had been too easy. 

He really fucking hated the wintertime. 

~ 

Check out the rest of the bad influence collection! 

Taglist: @youurkryptonite @taehyungieskith​ @fan-ati–c​ @btstrasht​ @crazy4myself​ @sashimi-mochi @ft-multi @kooafraid @dianaaviny @ggukkieland @cryinginmypromdress @kissestothesky

A-Z NSFW Alphabet | Shinsuke Kita

Pairing: Shinsuke Kita x f!reader

Word count: 4.3K

Warnings/contents: Sex, strong language, variety of kinks, 18+

Notes: N O B O D Y can change my mind that this man is a soft-dom. I’m dying on this hill. With that being said, I hope you agree with that statement and like this post 💕

In all of my NSFW posts, all of the characters are 18+! If you would like to see my growing list of other Haikyuu boys whenever I add them, you can follow {this link} to my masterlist!

<>~<>~<>

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Kita is an aftercare god. He takes such good care of you by getting you into the shower, changing the sheets, putting your blanket in the dryer so that it’s warm when you get into bed, fluffing the pillows up, making sure that you have water on your bedside table, and showering with you if you wanted him to. He would wash your hair and back, letting you rest your head on his shoulder while the warm water slides down your bodies for a few minutes as he softly massages your shoulders. He would help you get dressed, carry you around, and hold you close while he strokes your hair and you try and sleep

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partners)

Theirs: He likes his hands. He knows that they’re a bit rough, but they’re also large and always warm enough to warm your chilly hands. He can grope at your chest with his hands, hold your hands in his, cup your face in his hands, and be able to feel you close to him and hold you all because of his hands

Yours: He’s always really liked your breasts. He likes to see your cleavage, and don’t even get him started on when you’re wearing a shirt with no bra and he can see your nipples. He likes to watch them bounce while he’s fucking you. He also enjoys slapping them a little bit to make them bounce and shift inside of your shirt when you’re not wearing a bra. Kita also really enjoys sucking on your nipples and licking up your cleavage while he pushes them together with his hands

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

For the most part, Kita likes to cum inside of you. He doesn’t necessarily care for watching his cum slide down your legs like some of the characters, and he doesn’t really care for cumming on your stomach either. Even if the sheets are being changed, he doesn’t care for making a bigger mess, especially on your body. However, on the rare occurrence that you would slide Kita’s cock between your breasts, he would cum on your chest

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He would really like to have sex with you at the beach. The distant sounds of the ocean crashing against the rocks, the sounds of the city at night, just the two of you alone in the sand on a blanket— kissing, feeling each other, pleasuring each other. But he’s never pursued this thought because the beach is a very public area and who knows what might happen. However, if you were to bring this up, it wouldn’t take much convincing on his end

E = Experience (how experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

You were Kita’s first ever experience. The two of you took things slow and careful, with lots of questions from him and asking for your guidance to make sure that he knew what you liked and didn’t like. He would make sure that you were okay with different things that he tried, not wanting to make you uncomfortable or put you through any pain. He talked with you beforehand to ask about some things you liked so he could hone in on those skills and learn how to make you squirm and squirt around his fingers. He has a very good memory and it didn’t take him long to perfect his skills in the bedroom because he’s very vocal with you

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

He’s always loved missionary. He likes to look at you squirming beneath him and seeing the faces you make as you reach your orgasm around his cock. He likes the ability to kiss you whenever he wants. He likes looking into your eyes and being able to lean down and whisper how much he loves you in your ear. He likes being able to pull back a little bit and watch your breasts bounce along with his movements. He likes to moan in your ear and have you moaning in his while you bury your face into his shoulder. And he especially likes when you wrap your legs around him and keep his body snug against your own. Occasionally he likes to pull back and bring your legs up onto his shoulders. He likes this because he can see even more of you and he still has the ability to lean down to kiss you if he felt like it

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? Are they humorous? etc.)

Kita is somewhere between serious and humorous. He likes to make you laugh. He doesn’t want sex to be a serious thing that you can’t still enjoy each others presence in and laugh about silly things like bonking your heads even after how many times you’ve been in bed together. However there are more serious moments where the two of you stare into each others eyes, Kita’s hand holding your own down on the bed as he pushes himself inside of you, but even the serious moments are very loving. There isn’t a time of any day that you aren’t reminded that Kita truthfully and very deeply cares for you

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? Does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Nowadays, Kita shaves it all off completely. For a long time he only trimmed it, but one day while he was in the shower he thought that if he was going to be trimming it so short, he might as well go ahead and shave it. He mainly only wanted to see what it would feel like against his clothes, and not to mention you, if he was fully shaved down, and he realized how much better it feels without the hair. He keeps himself very clean, very frequently

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? The romantic aspect)

Kita is a very romantic, sweet man. He treasures you above all else, praising you with kisses pressed to each part of your body, a soft tone that makes your heart race and a gentle gaze that makes your cheeks flush hot. He never lets you go a day thinking he could love you any less today than he did yesterday, and he never makes you feel like he won’t love you the same tomorrow. Kita has never once disappointed you, and he doesn’t plan on starting now

J = Jerk off (masterbation headcanon)

If he ever needs to get off that badly that he can’t merely ignore the boner, he has no objections to taking care of the issue himself. He doesn’t like bothering you with sucking him off, however he might occasionally see if you would want to have phone sex. However there is never any pressure because he really can take care of the boner himself

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Light teasing: (Explained further below)

Praising: Kita is constantly praising you. Whether it be for how good you suck on his cock whenever he rarely says yes to you sucking him off or you’re in 69, how good you taste, how cute you are squirming for his tongue and his fingers, how cute it is that you’re so wet and ready for him, how well you take his cock, how good you feel when you’re clenching around him, etc. He also calls you many sweet things in bed. His favorite names to call you are: “Baby” and “My love,” but Kita will also call you “(His) Good girl” sometimes softly in your ear. He’ll call you one of these names while he gently caresses your cheek, telling you that you’re so pretty when you’re taking his cock inside of you

Daddy kink: He’s definitely into being called daddy, but he also wouldn’t ask for it. It was something that he didn’t know he was into until one time the two of you were having sex and it slipped out of your mouth. He wasn’t expecting it and had stopped in shock, asking you what you had just called him. You were extremely embarrassed, but he couldn’t stop thinking about it for the rest of the night. In that moment, he simply caressed your face and whispered soft assurances that it was okay and that he didn’t mind it, and that you could call him that if you wanted to, but it was something he grew fond of very fast

Very light dumbification: He’s only into this in the sense that he enjoys fucking you until you’re unable to think of anything beside him and how good he feels inside of you. Sometimes he’ll whisper something about how you seem mind-numb around his cock, but he wouldn’t be mean about it. His tone would be gentle as he caressed your cheek, calling you his cute little baby and asking you a question to hear you mumble out an incoherent answer. He loves it when your moaning gets messy and incoherent because then he knows that he’s done his job

Light edging: Kita doesn’t really deny you of what it is that you want and what you’re craving, but he does know when to edge you once or twice before he lets you reach your orgasm because it’s going to make it feel that much better when you do finally cum around his fingers or down into his mouth. It leaves you panting and feels much better than when he just gives it to you. Besides, he can’t lie, listening to you beg for him to let you cum on your own free will makes his cock throb

Squirting: He loves to make you squirt. He enjoys seeing how much he can make you squirt back to back. Once he got the hang of how to make you gush, he started to do it every single time that you were in bed together. He likes to edge you a couple of times and then make you squirt several times in a row. He finds it fascinating to watch, and he also knows that it feels good for you. He really likes it when you squirt around his cock because you squeeze tighter around him and it makes both of you feel good

Overstimulation: There’s nothing more that Kita loves than overstimulating you. Than hearing your moans become a sobbing, incoherent mess. Than feeling your pussy clenching and gushing around his cock until you have nothing left to give him. Than feeling your nails in his back until your fingers are numb and there’s red scratch marks on his skin. Than kissing you sloppily until you’re unable to focus on the kiss and get too lost in how good it feels. Than having you fall asleep quickly in his arms afterwards because you’re exhausted, clean, and satisfied— just like he always intends on leaving you after sex

Clothes: Kita loves to fuck you while you’re wearing his shirts. He thinks that you look so cute— so small in his large shirts, especially the dress shirts that he has. He can leave it unbuttoned on you, this way he can watch your breasts bounce while he’s inside of you and still have the satisfaction of you wearing his shirt. It’s a little reassurance that you’re all his and his alone, especially in the moment. Because your mind isn’t anywhere but him, and he knows that— and in return his mind isn’t anywhere but you

Soft dom: He is a very gentle man. Everything that he does, he does it gently with you. He wouldn’t ever want to hurt you more than how he stretches you out, and when it comes to thoughts of degrading you or calling you a whore, he doesn’t get off. He’s gentle, soft, and loving. Even when it hurts, he tries to take things slow and gentle with you, being as caring as he’s always been. He’s a sweetheart and he loves to praise you. He likes to see you smile when the two of you are in bed, and hearing your laughter only makes it better. He wouldn’t get off to being mean to you or hurting you in any way

Service dom: Kita gets off on getting you off. He wouldn’t care much for you sucking his cock, instead wanting to bury his face between your legs and making you squirm and moan beneath his touch for hours. He would do anything that you liked, within reason. He wants to make you as happy as he can. You would never leave that bedroom unsatisfied— that he makes damn sure of

Somno (sex on a sleeping/sleepy person): It isn’t the most frequent occurrence, but sometimes Kita likes to rub your clit or finger you gently while you’re sleeping to hear your sleepy moans. He would also love to wake you up on the weekend mornings with his face already between your legs. He usually only does it on the weekends, but if you happened to be having a wet dream on a weeknight, sometimes he can’t help himself from pressing a few kisses along your neck and starting to finger you— especially if you were to moan his name in your sleep

Lactophilia: I think that if you had Kita’s baby, he wouldn’t mind at all still sucking on your nipples while you were breastfeeding. He would massage your breasts for you when they were especially tender, watching some milk drip from your nipples and being fascinated by the sight. He’d be curious about how it tasted and ask you if he could taste it, and it just became something that happened sometimes. When you’re in missionary and breastfeeding, he would play with your nipples to make some milk squirt from them

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

#1: Kita likes to have sex in the bedroom above all else. It’s comfortable, close to the bathroom, warm, and he likes to keep pillows beneath your head while the two of you are having sex so that he knows you’re nice and comfortable. He would never let your head hit the wall more than once, if that. He’s a very observant man, and if he thinks that you’re too close to the wall, he’ll put a pillow behind your head for extra assurance that you don’t bonk your head

#2: Kita really likes shower sex. It isn’t as frequent nor would he try and have sex with you every single time that the two of you showered together, but say that the two of you were to finish in the bedroom but you were both willing to go a little longer, he would have no objections to fucking you against the wall. Kita would get down on his knees and eat you out while the warm water ran down your body, and he would actually really like it when you suck on his cock in the shower sometimes

M = Motivation (what turns them on/gets them going?)

Knowing that you’re feeling good is what makes this service dom happy. It’s all he really needs to keep going, hearing your moans and having you tell him that it feels good drives him wild. He loves it when you’re more vocal because it’s extra assurance that you don’t feel pressured into having sex with him— especially when he’s the one who initiates it. He likes to make you squirm beneath him, often times reaching down and rubbing at your clit if you were in the right position

N = No (something they wouldn’t do/turn offs)

Kita wouldn’t do anything too harsh. Very gently degrading you by calling you a slut or a whore (only if you asked him to) would be the worst that he would do. Kita is not into the idea of hurting you, so even if you were into it, he wouldn’t slap you and only gently slap your ass sometimes— but it’s a rare occurrence because in the moment he isn’t thinking about wanting to slap you

O = Oral (preferences in giving/receiving, skill, etc.)

He is very good at oral and he loves to do it. He likes to suck on your clit and finger you until you’re squirting around his fingers and soaking the bed. He also enjoys teasing you with his tongue, eyeing you as he laps at your entrance and occasionally pushing his tongue inside of you. But his favorite thing to do would be edging you once while he’s between your legs and then making you squirt a bunch. He likes it when you pull on his hair and tighten your legs around his head before you reach your orgasm. Another thing that Kita loves is when you sit on his face— not to suck his cock, but so that he can suck on your clit and massage your breasts while he watches your face

It isn’t very important to him if you were to suck his cock or not. He wouldn’t ask for it, and often times would turn you down if you were to ask him if he wanted you to suck it. He’s all about pleasing you, however if you were to not ask and get between his legs, he wouldn’t turn you down. He would hold your hair back so he could look at you, softly moaning and telling you that it feels so good. He really likes how warm your mouth is around his cock, but he can’t wait to get back to pleasuring you again. A good option for him is 69 so that you can suck on his cock while he eats you out, but it’s another thing he often times turns down and tells you to turn around when you sit on his face and go to lean down. He would really like to feel your breasts against his body while he eats you out though

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

He always takes it slow and gentle with you. He gives you as long as you need to adjust when he’s inside of you, making sure that you’re comfortable with the position and on the bed before he starts to slowly move inside of you when you tell him that he can. He makes sure that you’re wet enough and he always has lube on hand to make things easier if he’s struggling to get you to a point he deems worthy. He doesn’t want to hurt you in any way, so he takes things very slow and he’s always very sweet

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Kita is not really a fan of quickies. He likes to pleasure you, he likes to get you soaked and ready for him. He doesn’t like to strip off all of your clothes and push himself inside of you right away, he likes to take things slow. He likes to slowly undress you and occasionally slide his own shirt onto you. He likes to kiss and suck on your neck teasingly while he gently rubs at your clit to make you wet. He likes to take his time, he doesn’t like feeling rushed when it comes to pleasing you. However, something he would make an exception for would be if you were in the kitchen after the two of you had already been touching each other on the sofa. He would not mind slowly fucking you while you leaned over the counter while dinner cooked

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? Do they take risks? etc.)

He might be willing to try a few new things with you, though nothing too extreme, and if either of you weren’t comfortable with the idea, it’s always easily considered dropped. When the two of you are trying new things, he’s always very vocal. Talking to you and making sure that you’re doing okay, that it isn’t hurting you and that you’re liking it so far. If he senses that you’re uncomfortable, he would stop and ask if you were okay immediately instead of waiting it out to see if you were just adjusting to the new sensation. Most of the time, the two of you stick to what you know

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? How long do they last?)

Kita’s stamina is pretty impressive. He can go about 3-4 rounds depending on the night, eating you out between rounds to give himself a break and to continue pleasuring you until you were an overstimulated mess around him. If you were really in the mood and weren’t done, he could push himself and go 5-6 rounds, but afterwards he would be dead exhausted, and typically the 5th or 6th round happens in the shower so the two of you can get a head start on getting clean

T = Toys (do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

He isn’t really big on the idea of using things in the bedroom. He likes the way things are— getting you off with his fingers and tongue. He’s proud of the way that he can make you gush around his fingers, and dare he say that it’s given him a bit of an ego. He doesn’t really want the help of a vibrator to make you gush. He thinks he can do it just fine on his own

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Kita doesn’t tease you much, only edging you once or twice. He likes to give you what you want. Making you happy makes him happy, it’s always been that way. However he thinks that it is adorable when you beg for him because you don’t have to and he’s going to give you what you want even if you demand it. He wouldn’t stop you from begging if that’s what you wanted to do, but he wouldn’t make you either

V = Volume (how loud are they? What sounds do they make?)

Kita is very vocal. His moans are typically soft and right by your ear. He’ll give a few scattered grunts and soft groans, though his moans are pretty low and from the back of his throat. His sounds are very consistent in the way that even when he’s cumming he doesn’t get too much louder and his moans don’t get high or whiny. He also talks to you a lot, making sure you’re feeling good, praising you, etc. He likes to keep decently quiet so that he can hear you because it’s something that both gets him off and helps him know that he’s doing good for you

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Kita is a big cuddler. He loves to curl up with you on a rainy day with a good book and just read together. He likes to hold you close every single night in bed. After dinner, the thing that he’s most excited for is to curl up with you on the sofa and watch something or just talk about your separate days. He likes to lay on his back at night and have you laying on your side with one of your legs around his waist, his hand on your thigh and your hand on his chest, softly tracing patterns over his night shirt before you fall asleep with your hand flat on his chest. You relax him after long, stressful days and he only hopes he does the same for you

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Kita’s dick is pretty thick and it stretches you out well. His cock is around 6.6 inches long. Kita is a very clean man, shaving and taking care of himself to make sure that he smells fresh not only for you, but for himself as well. He shaves his balls quite frequently as well. He is also pretty healthy, so his cum wouldn’t have a distinctly gross taste to it, and because it’s so rare that you really get that much in your mouth, it always shocks you by being sort of sweet. Kita is good with his cock, knowing just how deep to push it inside of you at what pace to make you lose your mind around him

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

His sex drive truthfully isn’t very high. He would have sex with you whenever you asked, however he would only initiate it maybe once or twice a week. Both because he loves to simply curl up with you and enjoy a nice quiet night together where you talk to each other about your new interests and how each others separate days were, but also because he doesn’t want you to think that he’s only in this for your body. As much as he does love having sex with you and he loves pleasuring you, Kita would never want you to feel like anything less than the love of his life and more of a sex object

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He doesn’t fall asleep until you do. He has no trouble staying awake if you’re struggling, and he’ll do anything he can to help you out. Whether that be getting a small snack because you’re hungry, making you some tea, humming to you and softly rubbing your back while you curled up in his warm arms, or getting up with you to make some tea to help you sleep. He’d whisper sweet words about how much he loves you, sometimes listing off things he loves the most about you before you fall asleep. He’ll also massage your head to help you sleep if you wanted him to, and he loves to hold hands while you’re sleeping together

Love and Love Making Among the Vikings

Below is an infodump post which focuses on these topics:

Courtship: The Viking Way

Good Personal Hygiene

Sex Before Marriage

Homosexuality being Acceptable (with limits)

Some Viking Marriage Customs That Survive Today

Viking Sexual Euphemisms

Acceptance of Adultery in the Viking Age

Viking Women Divorcing Their Husbands

Vikings in popular culture are often viewed as the brutes of the Dark Ages, robbing, raping and pillaging people and goods. However, an analysis of their personal lives shows a much different side. Family life was important to Norse men, and every proper, upstanding Viking aimed to marry and have children. And although their parents arranged their marriages, Norsemen liked to court their ladies- and made a special effort to impress them with their appearance.

As for Norse women, although they had to put up with their husband’s affairs with live-in mistresses, slaves and even other men, they had the right to divorce their partners for violence, neglect, and various sexually related issues. In fact, Norse customs of love, marriage, and sex set a high standard in their time- and some even survive to this day.

Courtship: The Viking Way

Courtship wasn’t strictly necessary in Norse culture as marriage was more about alliances than love. The prospective bride and groom’s families would command the negotiations, to create a match that would bind the two clans as allies – and sometimes end feuds. Many brides were promised as "peace pledges" to smooth troubled waters between rival families. Although the couple in question could voice an opinion, it was fair to say they had little choice but to go ahead with the match.

That didn’t mean there was no romance -but Norse men had to handle it carefully. If a potential groom was too slow in making advances to his prospective bride, the lady’s relatives could take this as a slight and seek blood vengeance. Eighteen courtships in the sagas ended in this messy fashion. On the other hand, it also didn’t pay to move too fast or stretch out the courtship too long. If the couple liked each other too much to wait for the wedding night, matters could become complicated by an unwanted pregnancy.

So attempts to cultivate what the Norse called ˜inn matki munr’ (‘the mighty passion’) were intricate and involved specific rituals. Meeting and talking was one way to forge a relationship. But some odd practices were also employed. For instance, if a girl wanted to show her man she liked him, she made him a shirt. As for Viking men, they would go out and handpick their lady a bunch of purple flowers- and then slap her around the face with it!

Love poetry, although a favorite of the Norse gods, was viewed with suspicion. In fact, Icelandic law forbade skalds to compose Mannsong, (‘maiden songs’) for women who were not married to them under the threat of outlawry or death. This suspicion came about because the Norse believed that the poems could act as spells to seduce and bind women. Worse still, such praises could suggest that the skald or his patron knew the lady more intimately than he should.

Even if they were not in love before the wedding, the couple would try and cultivate it afterward. Husbands would seat their wives next to them if they wanted to show affection. Couples could also express their closeness by sharing the same drinking horn. If a husband were feeling very affectionate, he would ˜put her on his lap’ where he and his wife could indulge in “kyssir hana’ – a kiss and a cuddle. Or he would put his head on her lap, and she would stroke his hair.

Good personal hygiene was a must

Central to making a good impression on a potential or actual partner was good personal hygiene and pride in one’s appearance. This practice applied to both men and women. Norse graves are packed with grooming essentials for the afterlife- regardless of whether they belonged to a man or a woman. Combs, toothpicks, tweezers and ear spoons were all familiar, demonstrating the Norse liked to be neat and tidy-and clean. The Arab, Ibn Fadlan may have felt horror at the Viking practice of sharing a communal wash bowl, but at least his Norse acquaintances washed their face and combed their hair daily.

In fact, the Norse were probably the cleanest people in the Dark Ages. According to the Saxon cleric, John of Wallingford, they bathed weekly, on a Saturday. Wallingford complained that this, and their habit of changing their clothes regularly, was to “ undermine the virtue of married women and even seduce the daughters of nobles to be their mistresses.” However, the Norse were not content merely to be neat and tidy. Ibn Fadlan also noted the Rus- Viking traders who occupied what is now modern Russia-favored bleaching their beards to a saffron yellow, using a strong lye soap.

This method was probably also used on the hair of men and women. Norse women would have been particularly keen on achieving the long, fair, shiny hair that was the feminine ideal, although the white skin that men also coveted was probably only managed by the wealthy. Men also favored long hair, as only slaves wore their hair close cropped. However, this did not mean they were unkept. Figurines show Viking men wearing their hair trimmed and their beards well groomed- either styled to a point or shaped as a goatee.

Finally, there was the question of clothing. When it came to making an impact, the Norse liked to dress to impress. As well as being clean, garments were brightly colored and adorned with the most costly array of jewelry you could afford. Cloak pins and arm rings all showed off status, impressing the object of your desire not only with your appearance but your wealth and prospects in life.

Sex before marriage was acceptable

It wasn’t always possible to marry the one you loved - or lusted after. The sagas make constant reference to “the illicit love visit.” In such cases, a young couple, forbidden from marrying would meet in secret. The sagas never mention sex occurring. However, it is highly unlikely the young man would risk a secret tryst simply to ˜talk’ to the object of his affections. The lovers, however, were said to ˜enjoy’ each other. A document detailing a wife’s dissatisfaction with her impotent husband because she couldn’t ˜enjoy‘ him suggests this is a term linked to sexual fulfilment.

Indeed, although female virginity was the ideal, it was just about acceptable for a woman to have had sexual relationships before her marriage-with certain provisos. First, she needed to have been discrete and not too prolific in her pre martial encounters. However, most importantly, she should not have had any children out of wedlock. This restriction was not for moral reasons. Illegitimate sons could become their father’s heirs- if he recognized them. Rather, society censured Illegitimacy because of the burden it placed on the maternal family, not because it was deemed wrong or shameful.

Illegitimate children were the responsibility of the mother’s family- and so a burden to it. It was they who ultimately supported the child. Even if the father acknowledged his child, he and his family were only obliged to provide two-thirds of its support. Worse yet, the mother probably lost all hope of marriage, as few men would want to take on the responsibility and expense of another man’s child. Thus her family would lose out further as she would gain no bride price and no family alliance. Thus chastity was often the safest bet.

For men, sex outside marriage posed no such strictures. They were free to indulge themselves however they pleased-as long as they submitted to marriage in the end. For to remain unmarried in Norse society was unacceptable. A man accused of shunning wedlock was said to be ˜fleeing from the vagina.’ Women who did the same were “fleeing from the penis.’ Such people risked becoming social outcasts because they were not fulfilling their ultimate role: the procreation of children for the survival of their families and society.

Homosexuality was acceptable- with limits

Pre Christian Norse views on homosexuality weren’t simple. On the face of it, Norse society accepted sexual relationships between men. However, there were restrictions. Firstly, such relationships could not interfere with any future or current marriage. So the man still had to marry- whatever his views on the opposite sex- and his wife and her family had to be prepared to ignore her husband’s male lover or lovers. It was most important that the man did not neglect his conjugal duties. He still needed to have sex with his wife.

More important was that no free Norse man was the passive partner in a homosexual relationship. Vikings would rape males and females when on raiding trips to shame, degrade and weaken them. To be penetrated was to be submissive. It was acceptable to gain pleasure from penetrating someone- but not from being penetrated yourself. One of the worst insults an enemy could hurl at a Norse man was “sordinn” (penetrated). Any man branded as such would fight to the death defend his honor. These conflicts led to Scandinavian law codes making such types of insult illegal because of the bloodshed, with the slanderer often outlawed- if the injured party didn’t kill him first!

However, if such abuse was believed or proven, it had grave consequences for the man in question. Although Norse myths tell of gods such as Loki and even Odin taking on a submissive role in sex, Norse mortal society did not tolerate passivity in men. The man in question would become a social outcast, branded "ergi” (unmanly). Such men were believed to lack the ability to be vital and virile members of society. They were deemed liable to be ineffectual as fathers and fighters- and as such of no use. Dominant homosexuals were quite another matter.

There is no mention of lesbianism in the tales. Nor are there any references in other Old Norse texts to female homosexual relationships, so we cannot gauge pre-Christian attitudes to female homosexuality. However, Icelandic Christian law suggests lesbianism did occur in Norse society. In the 12th century, Bishop Porlakr Porhallson decreed “if women satisfy each other they shall be ordered the same penance as men who perform the most hideous adultery between them or with a quadruped.”

The Eddas and some of the sagas also specifically mention Freja having sex with other women. In fact at a banquet Loki accused her of having slept all the other Aesir at one time or another, a claim which Freja never denied.

Some Viking Marriage customs survive today

The Norse held their weddings on a Friday, the day of Frigg, the goddess of marriage and fertility. The time of the year was also crucial. Late summer or autumn were the preferred times. This period of the year was harvest time, a time of abundance and plenty. A good supply of meat, fruit, and grain was essential to ensure an amply provisioned wedding feast.

One beverage was of particular importance. The ˜bridal ale’ was first consumed in a loving cup by the bride and groom at the marriage feast. The couple would use the mead-like brew to seal their union with a toast to Odin and Freya. The bridal ale was brewed with a good deal of honey, to ensure the fertility of the newlyweds. Their families gifted the couple with enough of this sweet beer to last them a month- a custom that gives us the modern term ˜honeymoon.’

Before the wedding, both bride and groom took a ritual steam bath. Although they did not wear special clothes for the wedding, both wore specific tokens on their special day. For the bride, this was a floral wreath upon her head. For the groom, it was a sword, purposely robbed from one of his family’s burial mounds (or an old family sword buried in a fake mound that he ritually disinterred.) This sword was presented to the bride at the exchange of vows, as a way of making her a custodian of his family line.

As is common today, the bride and groom exchanged rings- both finger rings and arm rings as they spoke their vows. Once the ceremony was complete, the “brud hlaup” occurred. This was a race run by both wedding parties to the feasting hall. Whoever arrived last served the ale. But before the bride could enter, she had to be escorted over the threshold by the groom. The Norse, like many pagan peoples, believed thresholds were dangerous places for in transition to a new stage in their life.

The groom would then thrust a new sword, a gift from his bride, into the central pillar of the house. The depth of the resulting cut was used to determine the success of their union. Then, after the feast, eight witnesses lighted the bridal couple to bed. The groom then removed the bridal wreath from the bride- a ritual deflowering before the real event.

Viking Sexual Euphemisms

The Vikings could be quite ˜direct’ about certain matters. However, they could also be rather coy about sex – or at least, so their stories suggest. The sagas had various ways to refer to sex that describe it in a rather round about way. A man about to have sex with a woman was said to ˜turn towards’ her, “laying his hand/arm/thigh ” on her. The rest was up to the audience’s imagination. However, what was clear was the man was in charge. He took the lead. His partner followed.

Once the action warmed up, the sagas implied the increased activity in similarly guarded terms. A couple in the throes of passion would ˜crowd together in bed” (hviluthrong) and ‘enjoy each other. ‘ If things were particularly raunchy, the tales would describe the man as enjoying a good old brolta a maga or ˜romp on her belly’ or describe the couple as ˜travelling together.” Once they had exhausted themselves, the couple spent the aftermath at ˜hvila meth henna ” (rest with her), or he would ˜amuse one’s self.’ This activity referred to him enjoying a quiet conversation or game of cards with his partner.

However, the everyday terms used by the Vikings were probably not quite so reserved, judging by sexual words they have bequeathed to modern times. The Old Norse ˜thviet’ for a cut or slit began life as a sexual euphemism for a particular part of the female anatomy. Gradually it evolved into the old English ˜thwat’ and later into the more familiar twat which is used today as a term of abuse. The same occurred with another Old Norse word for the female genitals “Kunta’.

However, not all euphemisms were this crude. In contrast to these rather basic sexual terms, the Old Norse for sexual desire was “munuth.” This word derives from the root word for love “mun‘ and that of thought or memory ˜hugr,’ making the sexual impulse a ˜love thought.’ So perhaps the Vikings could be romantic souls after all.

Adultery was acceptable for Viking men, but not their wives

Many Norse men adored their wives, judging by the last words of one man just before he was hung:

” Happy am I to have won the joy of such a consort; ” said the condemned man of his wife. “I shall not go down basely in loneliness to the gods of Tartarus. So let the encircling bonds grip my throat in the midst; the final anguish shall bring with it pleasure only, since the certain hope remains of renewed love, and death shall prove to have its own delights. Each world holds joy, and in the twin regions shall the repose of our united souls win fame, our equal faithfulness in love “(Saxo Grammaticus)

Sadly, however, not everyone practiced “faithfulness in love” The basic requirement of a Norse man was to produce children with his wife. He was not, however, obliged to be faithful. Norse men could keep concubines known as frilles – lower status women who they did not marry and who lived with the man and his wife. According to Adam of Breman, a man could keep as many frilles as he could afford. Society regarded any children from these liaisons as legitimate.

Norse men also kept bed slaves. These unfortunate women had little choice in whether or not they lay with their master. Nor was it a great advantage to be the master’s favorite. Ibn Fadlan described witnessing a Viking funeral where the favoured bed slave of the deceased man was killed to accompany him to the afterlife. However, the one taboo liaison for a Norseman was to lie with another man’s wife. For this, he could be fined or killed.

Wives, however, were expected to remain faithful, probably because of the possibility of falling pregnant with a child that was not her husband’s. It’s unlikely that every wife did remain constant. However, if anyone caught a woman being unfaithful, the penalties varied. At best, her hair would be cut off. At worst, she could be divorced or fined- or killed. Adam of Breman even states that she could be enslaved.

Viking women could divorce their husbands

Viking women may have had to put up with their spouse’s affairs. However, they didn’t have to put up with their husbands ‘until death‘. Although a Norse wife could not divorce her husband for being unfaithful, there were other circumstances where it was perfectly acceptable. If her husband hit her, a woman could fine him. If he abused her in front of witnesses, not only did the fine apply, but his wife could divorce him after the third blow.

There were also various sexual reasons why a wife could divorce a husband. Men who dressed in feminine clothing such as low cut shirts, for instance, could be cast off, as could those who were homosexual- even if they were the dominant partner. A wife could object to the lack of discretion in homosexual liaisons – or the attention they distracted from her relationship with her spouse. In each case, the now ex-wife could claim back her original dowry and any inheritances she received during the marriage.

Another, perhaps surprising reason for divorce was if a man did not satisfy his wife sexually. A man who had refused to have sex with his wife for three years could be set aside. Likewise, if he could not perform or was leaving his wife sexually unfulfilled, he was at risk of being divorced. For if a couple wasn’t having sex, they weren’t producing children. Also, an unhappy marriage bred bitterness and resentment that could boil over into violence and family feuds. So it was better for a sexually unsatisfied woman to look elsewhere for a partner.

Judging by the sagas, it was the women who generally instigated divorce. All that was required was for them to assemble witnesses, cite their reasons and declare themselves divorced. This had to occur three times: in their bedroom, in front of the house and before a public assembly. It was Norse women’s one significant freedom. For if they were to remain tied to one man, run his home and land and put up with his lovers, the least they could expect was satisfying sex life.

Venti: First Meeting and Friendship HCs

First Meeting HCs

————————————————————

The god of freedom certainly lived up to the title. A truly free spirit who only wished the same for others. He shaped the many hills and cliffs of Mondstadt with his own hand, and graciously bestowed his powers unto those he deemed worthy. And yet…there he sat - teetering on the edge of a barstool, completely and utterly intoxicated.

The red-head manning the bar rolls his eyes at the sorry display the archon was creating, and resumes cleaning the glass in his hand. However as a bell rings out - signaling a new patron - he looks up.

You enter the famed “Angels Share”, the best tavern in Mondstadt - or so you’ve been told. Really, you’ll decide that for yourself - is what you think as you slide into an empty seat at the bar. Eager to unwind after a long day of adventuring, you order your drink and attempt to relax.

But really, your night didn’t end how you’d hoped at all. You ended up with a loud and incredibly clingy bard hanging off of your shoulder spouting barely comprehensible rhymes and poems. You would’ve found amusement in the spectacle if you weren’t so tired. Shrugging him off did no good, as he was surprisingly strong for someone so small.

Thankfully, you got your sweet freedom as the bartender cut him off for the night, presenting the smaller boy with the shockingly large bill. A wave of pity washes over you as his face drops at the number.

He laughs awkwardly, attempting to convince the bartender that he could pay by other means, but the stoic man only sighs, trying to explain to the drop-dead drunk bard that he cannot keep the tavern open with “songs and sonnets”.

Really you were quite done with your failed attempt at relaxation - wanting to go home and just sleep the night away. Sliding a bag of Mora across the counter you state that it should be enough to cover both of your tabs. That was essentially all you’d earned via commission today, though, you can’t really find a reason to be mad about the extra expenditure. Helping people out - that’s just what you do. You don’t look twice as you exit the bar, though you feel a pair of eyes on your hooded figure as the door swings shut.

And that was that - you never saw the drunken bard again. Or so you thought. As the very next day you spotted him out of the corner of your eye while scouting around a Hilichurl camp, but as soon as you looked he was gone. And then that very same evening as you sat down for dinner at Good Hunter. Then several times over the next few days.

It was ticking you off, not just the fact that you had pretty much obtained a stalker, but the extra stress he brought with him as you now had to worry about his well being on top of yours during battle. You even started taking less dangerous commissions to further guarantee his safety. You didn’t really know or like the guy, but you certainly didn’t want him hurt, or worse; dead.

And by that point he wasn’t even trying to hide or disguise himself - trailing a few feet behind you nearly everywhere you went, drawing perplexed gazes from the townsfolk as you wandered from store to store for supplies. You were trying your best to keep your composure - to pretend he wasn’t even there in the first place - but the longer the charade went on the more cracks that appeared in your mask.

You didn’t mean to snap at him, honestly, but you were tired of putting up with a complete stranger following you around for no good reason - so you yelled at him. Right there in the middle of the market, the bard stood stunned - taken aback by your sudden outburst. He recovered quickly of course, smiling up/down at you like he hadn’t just been shouted at in clear view of the publics eye.

He hastily explains his actions, identifying himself as Venti - a travelling bard seeking inspiration for his next story. That night in the bar, he had been there lamenting - drowning his sorrows in wine over his recent pieces. They were all lacking ingenuity - a certain bit of flair that makes a story truly unforgettable. And that’s where you came in. You had caught his attention with your selfless act of generosity, so much so that it had given him that spark he he had been searching for. So naturally, he followed that spark - hoping it would continue to present him with the same creativity as before.

As you listen to his reasoning, the initial anger you felt mellows. You’re more than relieved that he’s not actually a creepy stalker, just a bard looking for inspiration.

Apologizing sheepishly for your actions, you scratch the back of your head. In that moment it was impossible to look into the boys eyes. You felt bad, truly. You had misread the situation entirely - thought it wasn’t all your fault. If the bard had simply approached you in the first place this whole fiasco could’ve all been avoided.

As you voice these thoughts to Venti he hums in understanding. He returns your apology with one of his own - bowing deeply with his beret in hand - shocking you and the few random townsfolk still paying attention to the scene.

Deeply embarrassed by the confused gazes the bard was drawing to them, you hastily accept his apology, tugging your hood further down to hide your hot face. Honestly the idea of just running away from the situation sounded quite appealing, but instead you restrain the urge - opting to walk past the boy as quick as possible.

Just as your shoulders brush, a hand latches onto your wrist - stopping your escape in its tracks. This time it’s Ventis turn to look sheepish, as he officially asks to accompany you on your exploits. He offers you entertainment and conversation, as well as any other skills he may or may not have - the latter only serving to confuse rather than convince you.

“Your journey would be far more enjoyable with a skilled bard such as myself by your side. Perhaps you would even allow me to write a ballad of your conquests?”

It’s not entirely uncommon for a bard to travel with an adventurer for inspiration, you suppose to yourself. Though you’re still more than a bit apprehensive on the matter. It’s not that you don’t want his company - really it does get quite lonely alone out on the road - it’s simply his safety that concerns you. But upon voicing this Venti simply chuckles, exclaiming that he’s much stronger than his appearance lets on.

Now - with no real reason to refuse - you accept his offer, earning a cheer from the bard. And so your joint journey began - you and Venti against whatever tasks or monsters needed tackling.

Friendship HC 

————————————————————

It goes without saying that if you didn’t have a vision before, you certainly have one now. Within the first week in fact. Waking up in the early hours of the day to a soft blue glowing vision beside your head was not something you ever thought you’d experience - but of course you’re not complaining.

Upon shaking the bard awake to show him your discovery he only gives a rather tame reaction - as if he already knew you had it.

“Hmm? You woke up to a vision by your side? My, my - what luck you seem to possess! Perhaps now you may go into battle with less distress.”

Travelling with Venti is never dull, as he fills the silence with stories of old - tales of the long deserted original city of Mondstadt, the creation of the seven nations themselves and other obscurities that you don’t remember hearing about in any history book. Often times he interrupts his own story to spill his own hot take on a major historical figure or deity - hearing him call Andrius a “mother hen in denial” had you spit out your drink. His storytimes often end with you wondering how exactly someone so young would have knowledge of times long gone. He always shrugs it off, quickly changing the subject with a smile filled with secrets. For a boy so young he talks as if he’s been around for centuries.

Any looming worries over his well being are quickly dismissed once you see him fight. His nimble fingers and sharp eyes shoot down all matter of foes in rapid succession, and his skills at utilizing anemo are completely unparalleled. Really, you’re left wondering how he’s not the adventurer here.

You will absolutely fall victim to his pranks there’s nothing you can do about it. Whether it’s the wind blowing your cloak around in your face, extra jueyun chilies in your food or a slime condensate down the back of your shirt - you cannot escape the impish bards mischievous side. It’s when he suddenly falls quiet that you have to worry. A silent Venti is a scheming Venti.

However this is not a one-sided deal at all, he welcomes - no, insists - that you prank him back. He doesn’t want you to be left out of the fun after all! So get him back for that frog he put in your pack, or the time he kept pushing air currents in your direction so you couldn’t land your glider. Really; the more creative the better. If you’re able to prank him successfully he’ll laugh with you as you celebrate, praising you for your victory. But be warned that his next scheme will be twice as good as yours.

If you ever need a break from his shenanigans, go hang out with a cat. He won’t approach you while the animal is around, however he will be pouting up a storm from a distance.

You’ve gotten to discover many quirks of the bard clad in green over time, like how the tips of his hair seem to glow brighter when he’s in a good mood - especially when he laughs, and that he’s completely repulsed by cheese. If he ever bothers you too much you can get him back by chasing him while holding the stuff. Some of that nasty, stinky stuff Sara has at Good Hunter should do the trick. Mind you that the boy is incredibly spry - so good luck keeping up.

Eventually, he ends up revealing his true identity to you after the guilt of lying begins to eat away at his heart - making it harder to keep up his persona. Really he’d wanted to tell you for months at that point, but a lingering feeling of apprehension - a worry that you may no longer see him the same way - kept holding him back.

“Y/N, I wish to tell you a truth I’ve been hiding. You see…in reality, I am Lord Barbatos.”

“…”

“That…actually explains so much…”

He’s relieved to find that nothing has changed between the two of you after his revelation. You still treat him like Venti the bard, just as you always have. It’s a weight off his shoulders to be sure, and you can tell his overall mood has improved too.

It’s still kind of shocking when he switches to “Barbatos mode”, as you’ve taken to calling it. Spouting bars of philosophical gibberish at the most random of times leaves you blinking in utter confusion and often times just hurts your brain.

At the end of the day, the God of freedom is incredibly lonely. The best way to describe it is that he’s detached - he’s out of touch with his ever-changing homeland and the people that reside in it. Only ever appearing to handle a major problem or calamity at hand and then sending himself into a deep slumber for hundreds of years.

Waking up each time is like mental whiplash for the poor god, as he sees towns rise and fall, people come and go and things change again just he’s beginning to get used them. It takes a toll on him - though he won’t let anyone see that.

He craves companionship and the feeling of belonging that comes with it more than anything. Placing unconditional trust in someone else, backing them up when the goings get tough and having them do the same in return. Providing a shoulder to lean on in moments of weakness and being so comfortable that breathing easy becomes the simplest thing in the world. That’s what he wants. Barbatos may not be human but his vessel is.

That’s why Barbatos cherishes his friendship with you so much. He knows you - like all other humans - have a finite amount of time in this world. In time, wrinkles will adorn your face, and strands of silvery gray will appear in your hair. You bones will ache as age seeps into your body. And yet he will experience no such afflictions - forever wearing the face of a young boy from another time. Ever ageless, frozen in time.

The dull ache that spreads through his chest at the thought of watching the one who he considers his closest friend wither away in front of him is…crushing. Even though he knows your time alive is brief, and that your death would only cause him more pain - he can’t stop himself.

He’ll spend nearly every day by your side, telling you tales of yore, pulling pranks and practical jokes, covering your back in battle and being there when you need it most. He wants you to experience the land and all its freedoms. He wants you to get the most out of what little time you have in such a vast and expansive world.

You’re the closest friend he’s had since the real Venti - and he sees bits of him in you too. You help fill the gaping hole of loneliness in his chest - one stemming from a millennia of duty and repressed guilt.

He knows you’ll eventually leave him, and one day hopefully he’ll come to terms with that. But for now, he’s content with you by his side, racing off into whatever dangers lie ahead.

————————————————————

This turned out so much longer that I thought it would I’m so sorry ;-;

I know you said all you wanted were headcannons but I think I went a lil too far…ok ALOT too far

I had fun though…so thanks for giving me something to work on!

—

No need to feel sorry! I loved it so much. Headcanons, fics, whatever you want^^ I stan talent and you have it 💕💕

I don’t know if you lads remember but when I was struggling over Venti HCs, this was the friend I asked for crumbs of inspiration that ended up giving me an entire fic. I went absolutely feral over it and wanted to share it with you all. 

So thank you to @fulltimeventisimp​ [alt account] for your beautiful work and feeding us all Venti crumbs. I swear to god, if there is a Venti re-run and you don’t get 6 venti’s in one 10 roll it’s time to riot. 

[No worries about tags] 

Also, I know this isn’t my work but I’m going to tag you all in this 

  @mikeysbike​​ @unionwitch​​ @musekala​​ @sunnshiii​​ @stanzastic​​ @akaasea​​ @xoneaboveallx​​ @adoring-ghost​​ @asheseiler​​ @childelover​​ @dilucsz​​ @dai-tsukki-desu​​ @thicmitten​​ @nonniechan​​ @htnicayh​​ @genshins1mpact​​ @morthecreator​​ @aanne2601 @aklxojjk​​ @hanniejji​​​​

Movie Night

Am I ever gonna tire of requests? Maybe.

Right now? Not so much.

I am so FUCKING KEEN TO WRITE THIS SHIT! Oh my god this sounds legit so good though???? How dare you suggest such a situation to my Tamaki-simping ass????????

I really hope you enjoy this scenario anon because fuck me sideways it was so much fun to writeeeeee, please feel free to come scream at me if you see it!

🥃 AO3 🥃 || ✉️My Askbox✉️ || 💬Discord💬

Cheeky Kitsune 🦊💋

.

 You blinked in surprise, body going still as your eyes landed on Tamaki, your phone slipping from your grasp while he sat beside you quietly, his cheeks flushed a gentle shade of pink from the words that had just left his mouth. Since it was late on a Saturday night, you had been watching a movie with your anxious, pro-hero boyfriend in a comfortable silence.

 Right up until he had said something so surprisingly brazen, you weren’t entirely sure it was really your boyfriend sitting beside you.

 “Did…um, did you wanna repeat that for me Tamaki?” You questioned him hesitantly as you watched him closely, moving to shuffle closer to the warm-bodied nervous wreck that had seconds ago said something so unbelievably appealing, that you just had to hear it again. You wanted to be sure that you weren’t hearing things.

 “Are you gonna make me say it again bunny?” He grimaced at the eagerness that he could see in your gaze, his shoulders slumping in defeat when he realised that resisting you would be impossible at this stage. If he did deny you, then he would simply end up feeling like he’d kicked a puppy.

 “No, no, it’s okay Tamaki! I won’t make you say it again. I just…well I really wasn’t expecting you to say something like that to me…ever?” You smiled as you spoke softly, leaning closer to press a gentle kiss to his practically glowing cheek; able to feel the warmth of his skin against your lips, however, it was in that brief moment where you had left your guard down. That you found yourself on your back on the couch with Tamaki above you, pinning your hands above your head and staring down at you; his eyes wide with surprise at his own actions.

 “Praise…I said I like it when you praise me” He mumbled out the words as you squirmed beneath him, a faint smile beginning to tug at the edges of your lips. You couldn’t help it, really. Sometimes he could be too adorable for his own good, it almost made you want to tease him; almost.

 “Praise, huh? You like it when I tell you that you’re doing a good job? When you fuck me?” You questioned him in a soft murmur, your smile only growing wider when you saw the startled look that settled across his features; his grip on your wrists faltering for the briefest of seconds.

 “Oh, Tamaki…you do, don’t you baby?” You cooed softly as you leaned up to nip at his bottom lip, gasping out when he began to grind himself down against you, making you all too aware of his current problem; able to feel his dick straining to be freed through his sweatpants.

 You couldn’t be sure if he’d been hiding it for a while now, or if he had simply liked where things were going, but either way; who were you to judge? He was hard and you were loving this new confession of his. You couldn’t deny the rush you got from praising him like that, it simply felt right to do.

 “How about…we move this to the bedroom and then you ca—” You were cut off by his lips as they came crashing down against your own, stealing your breath away while his hands dropped away from your wrists to make quick work of your clothes; tugging and tearing at them until you were completely naked beneath him. Vulnerable to his hungry gaze. Not that you cared too much, you were loving this side of Tamaki and you were making a mental note to stir this kind of behaviour next time as well.

 “Mm…Tamaki~” You moaned out his name quietly as he began to make his way down your body, trailing kisses and gentle bites over your sensitive skin as he went; right up until his mouth closed around your clit, his hot tongue swirling teasing circles around it and making your hips buck down harshly. Desperate for more of the feeling.

 You hummed out in pleasure as you leaned back into the couch, tangling your fingers into his messy hair and giving a firm tug; it was hard to believe how quickly you had gotten yourself into the situation when mere minutes ago, you were watching a movie peacefully.

 “Ahh, that’s it baby, keep using your tongue, just like that…” You closed your eyes as you moaned out the instruction, pulling his hair firmly while his hands moved to grip at your thighs; dragging your body closer to him while he teased your clit without mercy. It was strange how dominant he was being when he craved your praise, but you didn’t particularly want to focus on the little details at the moment, instead you would try praising him about what a good job he was doing; after all, there was no harm in seeing what would happen if you did.

 “That feels so good Tamaki…you couldn’t wait for the bedroom, huh? That’s okay, just keep going” You gasped out when Tamaki moved his head, his tongue thrusting deep inside of you and making your hips buck from the sudden feeling.

 You were barely given a chance to recover from the sudden change when Tamaki’s fingers moved to tease your clit, flicking against it in order to make up for the lack of his tongue. The worst part was that it felt amazing, it was completely and utterly unfair.

 All of his attention was on you and yet you were certain that his erection would end up painfully unattended.

 .

 “Ah, Tama—ah!”

 .

 You cried out as he continued to pleasure you, not giving you even a moment to catch your breath while he watched your pleasure-ridden form with a curious and hungry gaze; what was really strange though, was that Tamaki hadn’t actually done this before. At least, not to the extent that you were currently experiencing.

 Usually, you would notice his hesitance and simply move on to pleasing him until he got to the stage where he could fuck you without any of his anxieties eating away at him. Today, that didn’t seem to be a problem.

 “Fuck, Tamaki…your tongue feels so good!” You whimpered out loudly as your cheeks burned with embarrassment, not quite used to saying such things to him directly; though with how thorough he was being, you wouldn’t feel that way for much longer.

 You could already feel the pleasure building up inside of you and it looked like Tamaki was also aware of just how close you were to orgasm. It didn’t help that you were practically grinding yourself down against his mouth; unfortunately, though, you couldn’t stop yourself. It felt too good. His mouth felt too good.

 “Tamaki, please…please don’t stop, okay? It feels so good…you’re doing such a good job” You moaned out loudly, arching your back while he hummed in response, his tongue never stopping as your orgasm approached rapidly, until suddenly; you were screaming out his name and tugging at his hair to help cope with the heavy waves of pleasure that washed over you unforgivingly. Leaving you a breathless, whimpering mess beneath the love of your life.

 “Did that feel good bunny?” Tamaki questioned quietly, slowly sitting up from between your legs and licking his lips clean of your orgasm; his hungry gaze glued to your trembling form. It seemed like you were both surprised that he was able to get such a reaction from you without fucking you senseless, but one thing was certain; you loved it.

 “Yes, god…yes baby, it felt so good Tamaki. You were amazing” You breathed out, reaching up to brush your fingers over his saliva covered lips, the very sight of him leaving you aching for more of him.

 “Come on, we’re going to the bedroom this time” You paused, slowly moving to sit up while flashing Tamaki a wicked grin; mischief flashing through your eyes and making him gulp nervously in response.

 “I’m gonna treat you so good Tamaki, I wanna make you feel just as good! I want to hear you moan my name~” You teased him softly, pressing your lips to his before moving to rise to your feet carefully, ready to make the journey to the bedroom; even if it was going to be a shaky, unbalanced trip.

 Tamaki had done wonders with his mouth and now you had to return the favour, it was only fair and you wouldn’t be able to forgive yourself if you didn’t make him feel that kind of pleasure too.

Chapter 13: Let's Try This One On For Size

Previous | Next | Masterlist

Alright, this one is rough. Similar to Chapter 7, but not as bad. But still, be warned and read the tags.

Taglist: @tropes-for-my-md-daydreams, @whumptakesthecake

Please let me know if you would like to be added/removed from the taglist.

CW: referenced burning/branding, denied care, dehumanization, defiant whumpee, derogatory language, shock collar, guilt tripping, forced submission, caretaking whumpees, bound to a chair, freeze response, noncon stripping, noncon touching, forced to watch, fade to black/implied noncon

Forty-five minutes.

That’s the most Killian hadn’t moved today. He just remained laying still on the ground. Unmoving. For forty-five minutes.

Harper tapped her finger against the counter anxiously. She had been checking the time non stop, seeing if he had switched positions at all. This was the longest he’s been without moving. Guilt filled her stomach.

God, this is all my fault. I should’ve just kept my head down and he wouldn’t have gotten hurt!

She grimaced thinking about the night before with Killian, and the sobs he tried so desperately to hide as they laid together in the dirt. She pleaded with Luther to take him inside and at least wash his boiled face and arms, but the bastard simply kicked the boy and dragged her inside, saying he would be fine.

Had he been through worse?

She wished she could go out there and bring him in, but-

“Kitty.”

Speak of the devil.

Harper turned around, using all of her power to glare at the man who branded her arm- which still hurt by the way, she wasn’t allowed any burn cream, either.

Luther was leaning against the doorway, giving her a smug grin. “Something is bothering you. You’ve been slow with your chores.”

“That boy you tortured is bothering me,” the girl spat.

Luther laughed. “Torture? That’s a bit extreme, I was just teaching him a lesson.”

“Is that what you say to yourself in bed every night?”

The man’s smile faded as his face quickly became cold. “I’m getting real tired of this, Harper.”

The girl swallowed and tried not to lose face as the man came near her. “You’re supposed to respect me. Edward put you into my care and I do not deserve to be treated with this attitude of yours.”

Harper rolled her eyes, knowing she was going to regret what she was going to say next. “You can shove it.”

Slap.

Luther sighed. “I swear, either Edward is going soft on his fucktoys or I have a fucking donut on my head because you aren’t taking me seriously. What do you need me to do to get you to bow at my feet? Fucking shove my dick up your cunt like Ed does?”

Harper scoffed. “You’re fucking disgusting. I will never respect you, and you’re stupid if you think Dark has broken me. I ain’t bowing to no one.”

He grabbed her chin. “You will be.” Luther’s eyes moved toward the window, smiling once he saw his dog and the realization that came with it. “You like him, don’t you?”

Harper’s eyes widened. “W-What?”

“Kitty has a crush on Puppy,” he singsonged.

“I do not, psycho. I’m concerned for an innocent being tortured.”

Luther rolled his eyes. “Oh right, you’re a cop aren’t you?” He stopped and thought for a moment, then looked back up. “And I just figured out how to break you.”

Harper didn’t get time to ask how before the man walked out of the door and unlocked the cuffs around the dog’s ankle. He dragged Killian inside, throwing him to the ground and barking a “Stay” order, then retrieving a shock collar from his bag. He latched the collar to the boy’s neck, who was half awake and clearly scared, before finally going back towards Harper.

“Kneel.”

“No.”

Luther pulled out a remote, and Harper heard a scream come from Killian on the floor. The cruel bastard smiled as he threw the remote between his hands. “What was that?”

The familiar feeling of guilt came once again in her stomach, and Harper dropped down to her knees.

“Good kitty,” Luther praised. “This is going to be a fun day.”

It was hell. It wasn’t fun, it was fucking hell. Killian was nothing more than a bargaining tool for Luther to do whatever he wanted to Harper. Make him lunch? Yes, or the shock. Read the newspaper to him? Yes, or the shock. Kiss his shoes? Initially, no, but yes after Killian almost tore his throat out from screaming. Harper was nothing more than a slave.

Haven’t I always been before Luther?

No, you were just complying with Dark to survive and not be hurt. Now you’re complying to not get Killian hurt. He hasn't taken your mind.

Harper looked over from where she was scrubbing the floor, hearing quiet gasps of pain and sniffles. Killian was curled up in a ball in front of Luther, the former using him as a footrest as he watched TV. She looked closer and could tell that his arms were a painful red and definitely swollen. He needed medical attention immediately, not doing anything could lead to an infection.

“Luther-” The familiar scream of the boy was heard along with a faint crackle. “Sir! I mean, Sir, I’m sorry, please stop-”

“What do you want, kitty?”

“Please let me treat his arm,” Harper said, slowly making her way over to the two. She carefully grabbed Killian’s head into her hands and stared up at Luther. “Can’t you see how swollen his arms are? If the burns get infected he could die!”

Luther didn’t even look away from the TV. “Well, hopefully they won’t get infected. It’s not a huge deal.”

“It’s a third degree burn! On both of his arms! And his face!”

Luther finally looked away, nudging the boy with his foot so he could see his face. “Eh, it’s not that bad.”

“But it could be! Please, just let me treat him. You can do anything you want to me, not him.” Harper stopped, trying not to think about the endless amount of possibilities that could come with her proposal.

The man looked down at her, then at his dog, and looked back at her with a smile. “Fine, strip.”

Harper didn’t process the command for a moment, mind going blank as she stared at the man in front of her. She only saw his cruel grin and his evil eyes, she only felt the quiet breathing of the boy laying beside her. She just heard white noise.

“Harper.” With that, she snapped out of her trance, stomach dropping as she now realized the command she was given. Strip. She slowly nodded her head, arms reaching back towards her neck to unlatch the-

“Wait,” came a voice, which had not been spoken yet in this conversation. Harper looked down at Killian, who pushed himself up to a kneeling position in front of his master. “Don’t...don’t make her undress.”

“Oh really?” Luther hummed as he crossed his legs. “What offer are you going to give me in return?”

Harper’s breath stilled as she waited for the boy to respond. Don't offer yourself. Don’t offer yourself. Please, Ian, don’t offer yourself for me.

“Me. You can have me instead.”

“Ian, don’t-”

“Silent, kitty; sidenote, cute nickname. But I don’t accept your offer, Kill. I’m in the mood for cunt, not ass.”

Harper could’ve gagged. She and Killian were seen as nothing more than their objects to this man.

Luther pulled out the remote, causing both his captives to freeze. “Besides, you said you were allowed to speak?”

Killian screamed as the voltage was turned up to max, hands flying up to the collar. Harper grabbed onto the boy, screaming for Luther to turn it off. Luther did, eventually, before kicking the girl away and grabbing the boy. The two made their way to the bedroom, and Luther pushed the shaking boy into a chair. He grabbed some rope from a drawer, and tied it tightly around the figure.

Killian sat there sobbing, scolding himself for being so stupid. He wasn’t given permission to talk, now he’s going to get punished. It was all for nothing, Harper is still going to be-

Luther returned with a defiant Harper, who was using all of her strength to unlatch his hand from her wrist. The man pushed her onto the bed, and backhanded her hard against her face for good measure. Harper saw stars for a moment, then her body went still.

Luther laughed to himself, relishing the joy of seeing his doggy’s petrified face as he stared at his new friend, knowing she was about to be raped right in front of him.

“Jealous, doggy?” He asked as he began unbuttoning his shirt. “I’ve known you for years, Kill. I can see it in your eyes, you want to fuck her so bad. Too bad, this bitch is mine.”

Killian, not doggy, screamed out of frustration. He fought against his bonds, mind filled with rage. “You don’t know me at all you sick bastard! I’ve never wanted to!-”

“Hush,” Luther said in a colder tone. “I was planning on giving her lube, even going easy on her, but if you keep this up I’ll be pounding her with no mercy. You want that?”

The boy was quiet, but he still glared furiously at Luther.

“Huh? Answer me, mutt.”

The boy shook his head, rage dying down as he looked down to the floor.

“Ah, ah, ah,” His shirt was off now, and he began to climb on top of the girl with his pants unbuttoned. “You’re going to watch every fucking second of this, Killian. You know how hard I go on you, don’t make me do the same to her.”

Killian looked back up, tears beginning to drop down his cheeks. He looked at Harper, who was now slowly regaining more control, but yet at the same time stilled once she came into full focus of the man in front of her.

Luther chuckled as he knelt on the bed and began removing her clothes. “I love that look in his pets’ eyes. All of them have it; completely fucking petrified once I’m pinning them down to a bed. I bet you tried to fight it once, didn’t you? After Edward's teachings now you know to just lay down and take it.”

Harper’s lips trembled as she struggled not to cry, almost letting out a sob once her chest was fully exposed. The man’s hands caressed her torso, squeezing her breasts, before moving back down to her pants.

“Let’s see how tight you really are, hm?” Luther said once he was aligned. He turned towards the bound boy. “Pay attention, Kill. Let me show you how a real man takes a woman.”

And he did. The entire night he watched the gruesome, disgusting scene before him. He saw everything, he heard everything. He was forced to his captor’s familiar grunts and moans and his new friends' cries. He barely registered the tears falling down his cheeks. He barely felt the throbbing pain on his arms and face. He only felt deep sorrow and hopelessness. But he never looked away.

Day 6: AroAce @spnprideweek (AO3 Link) Full ficlet under the cut :)

Attraction vs. Aesthetics

“He’s pretty hot”

Cas turned his head only slightly to the left, far enough to see a woman standing right next to him. He didn’t know her, had never seen her before. Not that he would have expected to know her, no. Honestly, running into a familiar face while on an undercover hunt probably wasn’t the best thing to happen, and therefore they were always happy to be faced with only people they had never met before. What was irritating to Cas, though, was that this unknown woman felt connected enough to him to start a conversation with that comment and nothing else.

“Huh?” he made. Nothing more than that. He was still looking at her, an eyebrow raised, surprised and admittedly more than a bit irritated by that conversation starter.

“Your friend,” the woman now said, and her head nodded into the direction where Dean was standing, a couple of feet over, talking to some other people in fancy clothes. “I saw you coming in together earlier. He’s quite the looker”

“Oh,” Cas gave a mumbled answer that the woman probably couldn’t even hear, with all the chatter going on around them.

The hall was busy, as they had expected it to be. Lots of rich people in expensive clothes, sipping expensive champagne out of expensive glasses, chatting and laughing, all together pretending to be there for the charity event, but secretly they all knew it was just another opportunity to show off. In the middle of all that, Dean and Cas, chatting to these exact people, Sam somewhere around the round, out of sigh but probably doing the same, and hopefully, a werewolf in disguise somewhere among the guests.

Cas wasn’t exactly paying attention to any of that, though. His eyes had followed the woman’s nod through the room, over the crowd of rich people, and had now landed on Dean.

Dean, who was standing there in a borrowed suit, because none of the fake-FBI ones he owned had seemed fancy enough, right next to a little fake-fountain, having a fake-smile on while maintaining a fake-friendly conversation in which neither partner seemed to really pay attention to what the other one was saying.

He was looking good, that much was true. Cas could definitely agree there with this strange woman. He was looking good in that suit, but Cas found it didn’t make much difference to what he normally wore. Actually, if he was honest, he probably preferred the old jeans with the washed-out parts where the knees were, along with an ordinary shirt and one of those flannels Dean insisted on wearing at every possible and impossible occasion. Cas’s preference wasn’t even about the looks. It was just, that outfit was Dean. It was what he felt comfortable in, what he chose to use to express himself. This suit, on the other hand … Dean tried hard, and he was probably fooling most of the strangers at this weird party, but Cas knew, he could see how stiff he felt in that suit.

And he was looking good, he was always looking good, in Cas’s opinion. Dean was always looking good, at every instance, every second of every day – and night, for that matter. No matter if it was all dressed up and ready, or fresh out of bed with no coffee yet, in his pyjama pants and with ruffled hair and a sleepy face, even after a hunt, with blood and slime all over him, even though Cas had to admit that was kind of disgusting. But an okay amount of disgusting, because it was Dean, after all.

Dean was looking good indeed, as he always was, yes. Looking good. But hot?

He’s pretty hot, the woman had said, and that word …

It was ridiculous, almost. Kind of like a bad joke. An Angel, an actual Angel of the Lord, capable of speaking, of understanding every single language that was and had ever been anywhere on earth, and yet, there were those few words that meant nothing to him. Hot, Attractive, words like those, no matter in which language, no matter where on earth, in hell or on heaven they were spoken, they meant nothing to him.

Maybe one could say that they weren’t even words for him, because per definition, a word has to have some kind of meaning – and words like those just didn’t.

As much as he had seen in his uncountable years of existence, as many things he had learned, words he had spoken, those were the only ones he couldn’t make sense of. He of course knew there was some kind of meaning to them, a meaning that he could piece together from the context he had witnessed others using them in, but that meaning was, as a result, an observed one, not an understood one.

It wasn’t understood, and it could never be, because Castiel simply didn’t understand.

He didn’t understand the thing that was lying beyond, the feeling those words described – because he simply didn’t feel them. He never had, and for quite the amount of time he had thought maybe he would one day, maybe he would get it, maybe he would feel it and then understand, but he didn’t.

It wasn’t like Angels generally wouldn’t be capable of feeling such things, of experiencing attraction – they were, Cas knew that. It was just, that he personally wasn’t. And he had thought – or maybe, hoped – to understand it one day, to see what the fuzz was about, what everyone seemed to be so fascinated by. What that thing about humans and their attraction and sex was that seemed so appealing it had caused several Angels to fall. But he didn’t.

The falling part, he could understand. He saw the appeal in humanity, he definitely did. It would be pretty ironic to claim that he didn’t, considering he had betrayed Heaven, betrayed everything he had ever stood for, just for one human.

And that human, that one silly little human that seemed so unimportant at the first glance, that one single little American man, the one that meant so much to him that words couldn’t possibly describe it – that one had made him understand a lot, almost everything.

But the thing was, almost everything. He understood why others before him had turned their backs to heaven, had betrayed the Great Plan, had betrayed God himself. He understood, because Humanity – or that one single human, in his case – was definitely worth it.

He understood so many human emotions all of a sudden, and he cared. For the first time ever, after millennia of existence, Cas had started to care instead of blindly following orders.

He understood what it meant to care, as he watched Dean care so incredibly much.

And he understood what it meant to love. He understood as he watched Dean do so many selfless things out of love, and he understood even better as he found himself falling in love.

He was falling in love, he knew that. Maybe he had fallen in love, maybe he was still falling. Cas wasn’t entirely sure if this was more a state or an ongoing process, but in the core, he knew that it was love.

So much love, for the world, for humanity, and especially for Dean – love, definitely, undoubtedly love, but no attraction.

Cas’s wouldn’t dare to say that he now understood love, because he didn’t. probably nobody had ever truly understood love. But he was content in saying that the word now had meaning to him. If someone was talking about love, he could definitely imagine something, make out a meaning below the word – no matter in which language.

And that was thanks to Dean, so you would assume that the sight of Dean would have awoken another kind of feeling in Cas, would’ve made him understand attraction. But well, it didn’t.

Cas had expected it to happen, he had been rather sure that as soon as he understood he was experiencing love like that, he would start to understand that other thing as well, sooner or later. But he didn’t.

And by now, after years and years around Dean, by his side, caring about him, loving him, Cas had come to the conclusion that he probably never would.

And that it was okay that way.

Because he felt good that way. He truly did feel entirely good that way, having accepted that this was just the way he felt, the way he was, that this was just him. And there admittedly were many things about himself that Cas didn’t like, some not at all, some he hated with a burning passion, and some he simply wanted to forget about, but this wasn’t one of them.

He was happy with how it was. He still didn’t understand, the words still didn’t carry any meaning for him, but that was okay.

He was aware of Dean’s good looks, of course he was – how could he not have been. But never, not a single time, had he thought of him as hot or attractive. It was rather, beautiful.

Dean was like a fine painting, Cas liked to think. He was so aesthetically pretty to look at, he was like the masterpiece of a hard-working artist, every freckle on his face the result of the well-thought-through tap of a brush, the shape of his face carefully drawn on canvas, every single hair added with a careful movement of hand, and his eyes, his mesmerizing green eyes, the result of long hours of work, with every little variation of colour being carefully thought of and added, colours mixed with the tip of a fine brush, making those eyes as deep and beautiful as they were.

It was almost ironic, if you thought about it. Years back, Cas had thought of humans as an artwork as well. An artwork by his father’s hand, his most perfect creations. Today, he wasn’t thinking that way anymore, he wasn’t praising God for anything anymore, not after everything he had put them through.

But Dean, Dean in particular, he still considered a piece of art. A masterpiece of art, made by the most talented artist in the world.

Cas’s eyes were still on Dean, following him moving around over there in the other half of the room, talking to people with that smile on his face. The face was beautiful, and every time Cas looked at it, he couldn’t believe just how beautiful it was. Every time he looked at it, he was thinking that a masterpiece like that should be put in a museum.

But then, on the other hand, Cas really didn’t want to share the masterpiece. So, he always reminded himself, no museum. Leave him here, with you, in the bunker, and admire this masterpiece at its finest: When he’s just rolled out of bed, in his silly pyjamas with cartoon prints all over, sipping on his coffee, sleep still in his eyes, hair ruffled, but his freckles standing out.

As he was looking over, eyeing Dean from across the room, he still didn’t understand those words the woman next to him had said.

They still carried no meaning for him, he couldn’t make any sense of them or relate to the feeling they implied – But that didn’t matter.

It wasn’t important, not to him, nothing of this was. He was happy as it was, as he was. Oblivious to the meaning of such words, but happy. As happy as it could get, really, as a fallen and rebellious former soldier of Heaven.

Cas didn’t understand the meaning beyond those words, and he never would. But he also had had time learn, and he had acquired a general picture of someone who got attributed the label attractive. And what he had especially learned was that Dean seemed to be considered extremely attractive by quite a number of people.

So, Cas decided, as every so often, to do what he had learned to do, to pretend to understand, to just agree to this definition society of attractiveness that society seemed to agree on.

“Yeah,” he said, still looking at Dean. “Yeah, I guess he is”

-tried to make it a bit long so you could enjoy , happy birthday I hope you have a fun day 🥺

Celebrating your birthday

Goshiki

- you always praised goshiki ever since youd been dating you would tell him how amazing he was , how he was the best player on his team , encourage the way he talked badly about his opposing teams ace saying his was much better and he’d be even more awesome when he took ushijimas spot as ace

- goshiki has never felt like he’s done enough to be awarded your praise though he won’t tell you

- no not when you place kisses all over his face and on his red stained hands from hitting the ball so hard that night, applying moisturizer on his callouses he’d gotten from the constant beat down at practice or even just kissing him softly and whispering you got this in his ear the night before a game.

- For weeks youd been telling goshiki your birthday was coming up but why had he suddenly gone missing ? your boyfriend was MIA everyday since youd told him. He was always working late and coming home at 2 am walking through the house only to fall into bed and ignore the hugs you tried to provide for his tired body Him falling asleep as soon as you sighed and took it on your own accord to wrap your arms around his waist and pull him back into you

-It was enevitable that he would have a game on your birthday him explaining that he felt horrible and could happily ditch it your brain knowing that he would only be sad the whole day if you let him. No matter how much volleyball came in between you two for the last few weeks you’d still been adamant about wanting the best for him. You telling him with a smile you didn’t care what you did for your birthday as long as you spent it with him. though you did ask for your present to be what he always teased you about telling you that one day he would get you a seat on his teams bench so you could see him play up close.

- you never actually thought he’d do it. You thanking everyone as they walked past you on the bench gifting you your small happy birthdays before the match began

- your heart swelling everytime you saw your boyfriend make a point and it wasn’t until the last few seconds of the match that you felt something was off

The air swirled around you as your body felt a chill run through it your eyes making contact with your boyfriends as he looked away and jumped in the air his serious face focused on nothing other than that moment as the whistle sounded. His teammates eyes widened in shock as they held their mouths open goshikis eyes falling to his hands looking in amazement before he looked down and realized there was a body clinging to him yelling into his chest

Your loud cries falling from your mouth before you or anyone else could speak

“ YOU MADE THE LAST SHOT —A CROSS SHOT BABY — YOU WON THE GAME “

You’d never thought this is what would have made your day. Him blinking twice before he ran off the court trying to get you as far away from the cheers of his team and coach as he could

ignoring the protest from the referees that stated he couldn’t do it screaming at him that he had to say his thanks firsts.

he scooped you up in his arms kissing you harshly before pulling back to breathe heavily him half expecting to see a smile when he looked down at you only to see your face concentrated on the floor trying to understand all these past weeks him explaining it for you

“I was working —- working so hard on perfecting the cross shot for you baby “ his sweaty jersey clinging to him as he smiled widely at you who was spluttering nothing but small praises for him

“ every night after practice —I spent perfecting it so you could come here tonight and see i’m not a loser — that’s what I wanted to give you for your birthday I didn’t know what else to give you “

he felt his eyes trying to water as he wiped his wet jersey over his face “ your always saying how you want me to master what I love to do and I— i did it and I — I gifted it to you — and I just I love you so much — your so dedicated to me that you came here on your birthday and I “

“ I wanted nothing else all I wanted was to be with you — that’s all I wanted to do and seeing you perfect something that you’ve been trying to do since I met you is just “ you planted your head on his chest “ it’s amazing your so cool goshiki “

Your boyfriends head spinning rapidly when all your praises suddenly hit him now knowing the only thing that could make this better would be to show off that he’d just scored the last point and won the game for his team

He felt on top of the world right now he had his fine ass s/o wrapped around him like a teddy bear and he was being praised and told there was no one as cool as him in the world

His brain short circuited as the team tried to pull you away to stop feeding his ego until they just sighed and let goshiki tell them how much better of an ace he was gonna be than ushijima your eyes going hard on ushijima as you mumbled “ birthday “

your boyfriend not seeing the shake that ran through the taller males body at the one word that had been laced with so much malice and just a slight teasing to it as if daring him to diagree and as brutally honest as ushijima was he was not stupid

he shook his head up and down quickly only agreeing that goshiki did have a chance with a reassuring yes slipping out after. His hand immediately grabbing tendous arm to walk away in fear of you

Your birthday being made as you saw the male in front of you happy that’s all that mattered to you right now. This is what made your day your boyfriend working hard on something not only because of himself but because he wanted to impress you that was when you felt loved.

That was the best birthday present knowing you’d always be engraved in someone’s mind as the simple push — the person that helped them better what they couldn’t do on their own.

sakusa

-sakusa honestly didn’t know what to do for your birthday he knew anything you’d come up with he’d have to go out of his comfort zone so he was trying to mentally prepare himself for that fact alone 2 months prior to your birthday

- he wasn’t that surprised when you said that all you wanted for your birthday was to go out to eat lunch with your boyfriend at least once. Him rolling his eyes asking why you two couldnt just order takeout and he could buy you some dollar decorations and could pop a happy birthday pin on you and call it a day

- you only answering with a straight faced and voice monotoned “ we’ve had takeout 2 weeks in a row ‘kusa “

-“ and it was good—no ? we enjoyed our own house atmosphere and being alone yes ? “

-“ and it was cold because you made us clean off the table then switch the plates that the food came in then wash our hands then for the last step watch as we reheated it. His eyes rolling as he plopped on the couch agreeing to go out but only with setting rules and boundaries for himself on this small birthday party between you two

- you two would only go somewhere he knew they cleaned and wore gloves to cook. or even at least might wipe down the tables and somehwrr he would be comfortable with by knowing the owners

- which is how you two ended up at onigiri miya with osuma giving you guys a discount off -- which wasn’t that much may I say —- atsuma siting with suna while he snapped pictures posting them to the group chat with the caption ‘ our germbabies first day out ‘

- you sighing happily as you looked to your left and right oh yeah his other rule was the two tables next to you had to be pushed as far away from yours as possible because he wouldn’t go if you two were just going to be packed and seated in the middle of the restaurant with people he didn’t know

“ I hope your happy “ his tone was snappy and accusing as he gripped his mask away from his face directing his spoon under the mask slowly

“ ‘kusa come on take off your mask “

he grunted rolling his eyes at you “ havent you gotten enough “

“ please wanna see your pretty face “ he felt heat spread throughout his body and spread across his face as he muttered small protests and profanities at your words

the mask being pulled off and crumbled in his right hand looking at you heavily “ god anything else you want —want to take away my sanity too huh “ he laughed “ you’ve stripped away all my other safety precautions whats next “

you smiled happily voice slipping out excitedly knowing you’d scare him with your next request “ let’s go to the pool after lunch “ he felt his body tighten at your claim he hated to tell you he wasn’t going to do something on your birthday or to tell you no but

“ no “ he spat as his your brows furrowed “ havent you gotten enough — ive put myself close to — and directly in the line of death enough for you today “ he said staring at you from across the table

his own body jumping a bit when a person tried to walk over to him for a picture shaking his head and face made up in disgust at their maskless face and how they simply looked like they’d gotten dressed in the dark

“ god —look at this i’m ready to go—I can’t do this much longer my love your days over “

“ babe seriously you didn’t even give me a present“

he laughed as he stood up putting his mask back on and tucking the money for your lunch into the receipt given to him before raising his hand halfheartedly waving the waiter down and nodding his head at them before walking behind you hand placed on the small of your back directing you through the loud and rather messy crowd

“ you’ve gotten your present from me already “ he whispered “ you’ve gotten to see me maskless — in a crowded environment if I may add and you didn’t get sick so yay “

you laughed as he spoke again “ enjoy it cause you won’t get it again “ he tore his mask off smiling softly at you as you studied his face

it wasnt the fact that he wasn’t wearing his mask you’d already seen him maskless when you two were alone. What made your birthday was the fact he was willing to go so far out of his comfort zone for you.

He never would have just went out to a resteraunt and ate his food around others and allow others to cook his food without him seeing it done physically himself and making sure nothing bad was happening. much less him taking his mask off around other people — people he didn’t know

you couldn’t help but feel a flutter as you looked through the car window he was right you were enjoying this because you knew you would never get it again not until another birthday when you would have sukusa go out of his comfort zone time and time again just to remind you how much he truly loved you and would do anything to make your birthday a special day for you

lev

- lev is a child he likes doing fun things you were no different yourself and if you were you could always calm him down and assume the role of parenting but then again if you weren’t someone of maturity that could maybe explain why you two were in jail on your birthday.

- Kenma and kuroo outside your cell dressed up in pajamas kenmas game boy clicking away as the two stared into the cell kuroos eyes boring into your boyfriends kenma occasionally eyeing you a bit intrigued with this side of you he’d never seen before

-Kuroo taking the dad role while kenma whispered behind him about how lev was an idiot and you — he couldn’t say anything about you

-he just assumed that idiot lev here was the one who decided to go in an abandoned house and wreck the whole thing only to find out that you were the one who came up with it

-the original idea was for you two to do what you saw on a movie where a woman destroyed an old house no one used for fun and to let all her fustratuons out and since it was your birthday —not that it would have mattered if it wasn’t —lev would have still done it with you birthday or not but now since it was your birthday this gave him even more reason to show little to no hesitation to follow behind you

-Which is not what you two really needed from each other

-when you both went to town on the house even breaking the outer walls of the dirty building levs arms reaching the ceiling with every pull back of the hammer to the wall he made. You and lev looking at each other happily when you turned to see the woman at the screwed up houses threshold

-“ oh hey you must be here —we must of had the same idea “ you smiled even harder when she returned it only for your smile to drop when you watched her call 911 with a laugh telling them how she was gonna get so much money and be able to buy a new house and get out of this rundown neighborhood because of two stupid kids

-your body sweating and looking away when kuroo beat into him about it saying how he now had to talk the lady out of suing

-your eyes darting to kenmas all knowing ones when lev screamed that you came up with the idea earlier and really lev just didn’t want you to be sad on your birthday so he just simply followed behind kuroos claims because he loves you and honestly it originally sounded fun before the arrest

“ god y/n —legs here is an idiot but never expected him to bring you into this “ kenmas voice challenged you as he smirked softly at his game” huh always felt like it would have been the other way around when it came to who influenced who “ your body stiffened as a cough leaked out

“ huh “ kuroo looked dumbfounded at his friends words

“ nothing kuroo just perfect a match a—perfect match “

The ride home was long as you two thanked kuroo and kenma before you ran down the sidewalk looking back at lev “ there’s still an hour to my birthday “

lev smiled as he watched you get further into the distance “ which means “

“ tag “ you screamed him following “ Y/N WE JUST GOT ARRESTTED “

“ AND SOMEONE IN CANDA JUST PUKED UP RED BEANS — COME ON “ he found himself laughing you suited him so well he always loved having fun and everyday was fun with you

his body finally catching up to yours as he tagged you wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you into his own body panting softly yours leaning back against his chest and looking up “ babe you see the stars “

you nodded at him smiling “ so pretty “

“ yeah really they are“

“ they always look so happy and beautiful and just bright—- they always make me feel calm at peace and just they settle my nerves “

he turned you to face him looking into your eyes as he smiled kissing you softly mouths moving to the tune of a song as he you smiled into the kiss head falling to his chest while he sighed in content in this moment

“ couldnt have described you better—“ your face went up in surprise that he thought those things about you “ happy birthday y/n”

Kinktober Day 14

angel!y. momo

☠️ warning(s): ⚠️ everything between both parties is consensual. ⚠️ 𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕘𝕙 𝕣𝕚𝕕𝕚𝕟𝕘, f/f, debuachery, no specific religion.

☠️ genre: smut, holiday special.

☠️ words: 2k [8 minutes, 10 seconds].

☠️ read more: kinktober(uary) | part one

☠️ summary: after a full year of rebuilding momo’s vows, she still had a lot more work to do.

“It’s time for your bath.” The guard escorting her said curtly, closing the door to her room-like dungeon, the cell accommodating her high status although ignoring her ‘heinous’ crime. Momo sighed to herself as she didn’t have time to thank her, looking back at her vanity as she looked at herself in the mirror.

It had only been one year since she had been taking her service, and might she say it was much harder work than she would have thought. Even though she had the pleasure of basically living in luxury she had to reap the work that had been damaged to many forests and landscaping of the lands that needed maintaining. Guiding souls, bringing them to their sentences, counseling them, filing  -- everything she wasn’t exactly excited to do. Momo loved to be in the action and this was something that had action just not the way she wanted.

Another sigh fell from her lips as she got up from the makeup bench, wrapping the pearl-white robe around her nude body, and got ready for her walk to the bathroom. She swiftly got her slippers on and began her walk from the long hallways, quietly following her warden to her scheduled bath. She was grateful that the god’s still swayed in her favour, no cold draft having to poke and prod at her skin. She much as she always enjoyed watching the tall ceilings and nicely embroidered walls with the memorable paintings; it never beat the always hot and comforting bath behind the mahogany doors she had been introduced to. They were massive and the guards in front of it opened with almost no hassle. Still amazed her till this night that they could.

“Two hours rewarded massage time for service.”

She couldn’t help but smile at the news that she had earned a longer bath added along with a massage, nodding her head before skipping into the said room it was spacious and large, the heavy ambiance of relaxation just as comforting as the hot and steamy room. She dropped her robe as she stood once the heavy doors closed behind her, letting her hair down as she made her way to the open bath pool, slowly going down the steps as she submerged herself into the water. Momo was quick to tie her hair into a towel, giddy as she could just imagine all the kinks being worked out from the heat. A graceful and small smile came across her face once she swam further in, going up to a shallow spot that she could sit in but still be submerged, and tilted her head against the wall. It was only a matter of time before the masseuse would come in and she couldn’t help but feel at least a little grateful that she was able to help fix up things needed to be tended to while gaining something in return.

N-Not that she did good things to receive praise-

“S-Sorry my lord…” Yaoyorozu groaned in apology, knowing that she didn’t aid something else to her sentence. She cupped up the water and washed her face once, the holy water washing her of her burdens… or so she thought.

“It’s alright my love, as long as you repent.” A voice joked back, making her jump. Her ravenette eyes looked at the woman who stood near the pool, her head coming up, and her breath hitching. It didn't take a second for her to recognize who you were. You faked a frown as she shrunk back, the heat on her cheeks that came about definitely wasn't from the bath itself. “I thought you’d be happy to see me.” You continued, resting your beautifully weaved tote. It was almost as if a cat had caught her tongue, struggling to even say as she didn’t dare to look at you.

“I-I, u-um…” Her head was running in circles, she had been doing so good. “How did you get in here?” She asks, finally looking up at you. She jumps back a bit once you start to climb into the bath, her hand clutching and the other steadying herself.

“Does it matter?” You smiled warmly at her, unlike her nude state you had a cloth bikini that kept you saint. “I have many jobs, you just so happen to be my appointment.” You say simply, beckoning her over. Momo was hesitant in coming closer to you, her hot blush not going away once you softly cupped her jaw and leaned down close to her face, talking against her lips. “I missed seeing you on your duties, y’know~?” You brushed against her teasingly before standing up again leaving her to admire your body in its glory. She couldn’t help but admire your unique physique. You gracefully sat down in the spot she once sat, beckoning her over so you could get started on your duties.

She nodded without a word, turning her back to you and carefully laying down her head in your lap and let your hands massage her head. Momo desperately tried not to think about the last time you two had met, the lingering remembrance of your fingertips making her brows furrowed.

“Relax.” You say calmly, hands leaving her hair while swiftly taking off the towel. You grabbed the appropriate hair routine for her and washed it. You observed as she closed her eyes at the wonderful treatment. Your hands were fairly innocent rinsing it before rubbing circles into her shoulders and urging a moan out of her. Her eyes shot open and she looked up at you, sitting up quickly.

“Wh-What do you think you’re doing?!” Yaoyorozu panted softly, not minding that her top half was visible anyways. But you did though, and your eyes wandered with the discovery as well.

“Please relax, I’m only here for your tranquility.” Your smile didn’t fade or flicker, the overwhelming urge to leap into your arms and feel your body against Momo was growing stronger by the moment and she had to keep herself from falling for it. “Come now, I promise to be softer.” Your smile turned into a pleading pout, eyes showing just a glint of your true intentions.

A few minutes had passed and you didn’t try anything sneaky. Your hands were back to massaging her as they should and only had her raising her brow at a few times when it would trail somewhere it wasn’t. But of course, each ‘mistake’ was met with an apology, one that she didn’t even need since secretly she liked it anyway. She sat up once you told her, her breath heavy as your hands worked almost like magic, the knots, and tension of that area significantly loosening. Your hands glided over her wet back, humming at how well curved and built her body was.

“You’re very beautiful, Momo.” You leaned over her shoulder to whisper in her ear, delighted that she didn’t move to speak or respond. Your hands gripped her hips and pulled her back into your lap, the position leaving her straddled against you. You played it as if you paid no mind, smirking to yourself as you just knew her brain was going in circles once again. Your hands started to work at the knots in her back, trailing over her sides just higher than the last each time. “So, what had you so tense today?” You try to make small conversation, hands reaching around to wrap around her waist, chin on her shoulder. Momo gulped as you did, feeling your clothed chest press against her, about to retaliate before your gripped her arm and started stretching it.

“Well, I was on duty to clean up the lands from Wishful Peak to the falls in Tenshi Sanctuary.” You cooed at the answer, nodding your head in understanding.

“That does sound very tedious, no wonder they called me in~” You answer, doing the same to her other limb before resting your hands on her hips again. “But I’m guessing you want something more, don’t you?” You ask against her ear, eyes watching your reflection along with hers. She made eye contact with the reflective surface. She bit her lip before nodded her head, hands timidly coming up to place your hands on her chest and turning her head to look back at you.

“Yes.”

You wasted no time in leaning in for a kiss, moaning at the sweet and pure taste of her lips against yours. Hers was delightfully soft and plump, the inside of her mouth just as heavenly. Your hands started to fondle and grope her tights, letting her carefully shift onto sitting on one of your thighs instead. You opened your eyes to watch her lewd expression, the excitement of being able to court such an esteemed angel making your heart race. Of course, this wouldn’t be the first time, but to do this in one of the official sacred places is what makes everything exciting for you. You pulled away to watch up at her with a loving look, smiling bashfully once her hand came up to cup your jaw, her fingers delicate as she started to rock against your thigh once again.

You interlocked your free hand with hers, the other continuing to play with her tit to keep in rhythm. Once the stimulation started to build up with her, she couldn’t help but tilt her head back against your shoulder. You looked over her once again, lips attacking the skin of her neck with kisses, nibbling here and there to tease her but careful as to not leave any permanent marks. At least any that couldn’t disappear with the mystical water you used on her. Her breath was light as she gyrated her hips into your thigh, you happily allowing her and welcoming her to get off using you.

"That's it, baby. I've got you~ " You mumble in her ear, giving her loving a kiss before nipping it and sucking on it. Her hips stuttered as your hand expertly played with her breasts, your thigh moving against her to give her extra pleasure. Your mouth was careful in sucking on her lobe, making her breath hitch. Her hand moved from your jaw to lean to hold on your knee as she continued to ride against it. You encouraged her to keep going, her hips needily moving for a high she’s only felt once in a lifetime.

“H-Honey~” She tilted her head back, eyes closing again once your head played with her chest again, missing your devilish smile as you helped the angelic deviant get off.

“Cum if you’re ready to~” You tweak her hardened buds and pull, the stimulation making her tense up. You held back an amused smile when she finally did cum, the cutest shiver through her as she finished on you. You let her rub up against you as you slowed to a stop with your leg, watching as she came down from her high. You hummed appreciatively and let your hands over her skin, kissing her shoulder as you signaled her with a small tap on her hips that you were done.

Momo was a bit stunned before quickly realizing, apologizing as she got up. This time she faced you, hands close to her body as she looked away bashfully. “A-Are you going to leave now?” She asks, eyes hopeful and soft. You nodded as you looked at the sun setting outside.

“I’ll be back for you, don’t worry.” You give her your famous sly smile, standing up to kiss her on the corner of her mouth. You pull away as if you were never there, washing yourself off as she watches you. She sits back in the water, letting the water surround her once again. You step out of the pool to dry yourself and get ready, glancing at her once you place the note on her pile of discarded clothes. “Enjoy yourself, Yaoyorozu.” You walk to the door, leaving her in bashful silence. She waited a few minutes before getting up and going to the pile in which you had left your note. Her heart skipped a beat as she read it, a bright smile etching onto her face as she reads it. It was as if her night couldn’t get any better.

“Will you be mine? ♡”

hi!!! i know.....i-i��m pretty nasty but can i request a hc for michael, jason, thomas & bubba, ghostface (billy loomis) fingering their s/o and how they would possibly feel about it (like..... would they be turned on or?????) lol i’m so nasty sbuznsixmso 🤢😔

Slashers fingering their s/o Headcanons

(Pffff not nasty at all lol.....I hope I did it good and please don’t judge....I am frustrated right now and I need some form of release.)

WARNING: Very NSFW content below

Thomas Hewitt

He is a pretty big guy, but surprisinglly very gentle with you, considering the size difference between you too. Big guy, gentle hands, ya know baby?

You were sitting on his lap, legs in either side of his bulky body that screaming pure animalistic power; your body covered by one of his favorite sundresses, that huged your body perfectlly.

One of his hands resting on your waist, rubbing slow circles there, while the other one was under the dress, your panties long forgotten on the arm of the couch. His big hands worked magic on your body and his thick fingers? Oh Lord...Two of them were burried deep down into your heat, not thrusting but rather massaging slowly the walls inside, while his big thumb rubbed circles on the buddle of nerves.

To put it simply you were a dripping mess on his lap, shivering and whimpering; his eyes nerver left your beautiful form so ready to come undone on top of him; your juices running down his hand on his arm.

“Oh fuck fuck...Right there Tommy~ Oh God you’r so good to me...My handsome husband~” Keep saying....He cannot get enough of you and your praises.

Michael Myers

No surprise...Michael is very dominant and rough; defenitlly complet opposite of vanilla, but that shouldn’t surprise you, not even now as you laid on the kitchen counter; face down and ass up....you know the drill.

One of his hands was burried in the locks of your hair, pulling on it from time to time when you tried to get up, reminding you to stay put like a good little kitten. His form was leaning over yours, pinning you down as he had his other hand right between your shaking legs, his fingers rubbing on your panty covered heat roughly, the material adding such a delicious friction.

All you could do is mewl and moan, as drool run down your chin, eyes glazed with lust. He pulled the panties aside and not wasting any more time he burried three of his long and thick fingers knuckle deep inside you, making you gasp.

“M-Michael...I-I can’t.....Oh Lord...have mercy” That’s all you could do as you squirted all over his hand, making the big man behind you let out a feral growl of approval, especially as your walls pulsated around his fingers.

Bubba Sawyer

You were washing the dishes or rather tried to wash them, but having Bubba behind you, kissing down your neck didn’t helped you at all, if only made you moan out.

And like luck was on his side you were wearing a skirt today, making his job so much easier. One of his hands went under the skirt, palming the globes of flesh, then went between them right where the most precious part of you laid; panties already wet from fooling around in the kitchen.

His hand came on the front, inside the soft material, two of his fingers running down between your lower lips and where you wanted them the most. You groaned out as he put said fingers inside to the hilt, your head throwed back on his shoulder as Bubba fingered you, your moans only encouraging him further on.

“You make me feel so good....I love you so much you have no idea, baby boy.” That’s why he loved you; you always knew how to make him feel praised.

Jason Voorhees

You didn’t even know how you ended up in this position, but you couldn’t even complain now; your half naked form on the forest floor, your shirt long lost, leaving you only in a pair of denim shorts and it didn’t helped your predicaement that you went commando.

The infamous Camp Blood Killer or better said your lover was on top of you, between your legs with one of his enormous hands inside your shorts, rubbing your heat like it was no tomorrow. The other hand was pinning your much smaller ones, leaving you at the mercy of Jason Voorhees.

You could hear his ragged breathing from under his mask, said masked face burried between your neck and shoulder. When he burried his index and middle finger inside your heat, knuckle deep, you let out the most wanton moan you every heard yourself let go, making you a blushing mess.

When Jason felt how wet you were down there and all just for him, he groaned, the sound so hot to your ears.

“Mmmm my good handsome man...always make me feel so good....so good and gentle...Love you so much Jason.” That was music to his ears, music that he intended to make you do all night.

Billy Loomis

If anyone would say they have a cruel boyfriend you would shoot their head, especially of how you ended with your back to your boyfriend between his legs, watching one of his favourite horror movies.

But that wasn’t the problem, the problem was how one of his hands was inside your pijamas pants and of course your unluck was that you skipped panties to be more comfortable.

“Now tell me...What slasher do you wanna fuck you?” he whispered obscenlly in your ear, making you groan as his finger was massaging your clit, adding pressure to make his point.

“Michael Myers? Want him to bang you from behind? Or maybe Jason Voorhees? Want the big bag Crystal Lake killer to give it to you hard and fast in the forest? Oooooor maybe you want all of them to fuck you...Yeahhh....How does Slasher Gangbang sound, dollface?”

He was so cruel and he knew all your weak spots, abusing them with his dirty talk. Billy bite your earlob as he burried two of his fingers, curling them upward inside you; your moans and cries music to his ears.

Payment // Twisted Wonderland Yandere! Azul Ashengrotto x Reader//

Just in time for the Octavinelle chapter! I felt like making Azul suffer for a little so there is a bit of angst in here, also thank you so much to the anon who requested this story!

=========================================================

The knocking on his door jolted Azul awake from his nap. His head sprung up eyes wide surveying the layout of his office. When had he fallen asleep? The clock read 6:30 in the afternoon, yet from what he could see the moon had already risen illuminating his office with a ghostly glow. He pinched the bridge of his nose standing up and sighing. How improper of him to fall asleep while reviewing contracts as well as his school work. The knocking continued, it began to echo around the room reverberating off the insides of his skull wedging its self into his brain. louder louder!LOUDER! He marched over to the door ready to send whoever it was on their way. He was too fatigued for pleasantries and politeness. He pulled the door wide open, mouth ajar ready to yell....he never did.There stood (Y/N), eyes bloodshot fresh tear stains tattooed over her cheeks. "I want a contract right now!" she yelled pushing past him, stomping into the office and plumbing down on one of the satin white couches. Her shoulders were slumped, she looked so weak and vulnerable. Azul quickly followed behind her, headache and unfinished work long forgotten. He slipped into the seat beside her, gloved hands gently rubbing her back. Upon the physical contact, she quickly straightened her back. The popping of joints and bones roared over the quiet room. She tried to wipe away her tears, trying to keep the new ones at bay. "He..hesaidhe... he" Her words slurred together, sticking into an incomprehensible phrase. What had happened to her? Azul's mind started falling down a sprawling rabbit whole, listing all the possible horrible things that some mongrel could have done to his precious, innocent, sweet (y/n)...No..they weren't his...they'd never been his...Azul continued rubbing circles over (y/n)'s back, his warm touch sent a caused (y/n)'s sobbing to an almost full stop, her posture relaxed practically melting into his touch. An easy silence blanketed the office, Azul's heart began to speed up. He'd never been this close to her, never touched her before. The moment felt perfect, like the gentle tide washing over his body on a bright sunny day...yes this was just like those rare blissful days back at the Sea of Corals when he'd been permitted to leave his lonely cave. "I want a contract...." Your brittle voice fragmented the irie hush. Azul's blue gaze dropped to the tiled floor, why were you so insistent on that tonight. What could you possibly want so badly that you were willing to make a deal with the devil? Azul's gesture stopped, arm dropping to the couch. "....Why?" It was unlike him to question why someone wanted a contract, he would just provide the pen and paper and smile his signature glowing grin. But something about you made him act like a dame fool. "I-I want..." You couldn't utter a single word without tearing up. What was going on! "Please" Azul leaned over, taking your small hands in his "Just tell me" his tone was too caring unfit of a sea which such as himself. "I want Malleus to love me!" You blurted out, a sharp edge engraved in your tone. Azul's heart sped up ready to break his ribcage, wanting to leave his body and beach it's self like a depressed whale.  You loved...Malleus, Malleus of all people! The moody always complaining prince of the fae. The prized child of NRC. Azul never cared much for the admiration and praise that everyone threw at his feet, but hearing that the dark fae had stolen your heart shattered his. Malleus had everything so why did he have to take the only thing Azul loved? WHY!He was desperate to say no, to shout it, to scream it until his throat went raw. He wanted to tell you that he loved you, that he would always love you. Unlike that arrogant fae who never thought of anything but himself, who was always in a bad mood for the most ridiculous reasons! But alas, Azul's mouth was a graveyard the words dying on his tongue before they got to breathe an ounce of air. His grip tightened hoping that his touch might just relay what he wanted to say. "Azul" his dishearted gaze rose to meet yours, it was his turn to look frail and broken in dire need of assistance. "Can you please make senior Malleus fall in love with me?" It hurt, it hurt so awfully! It felt like a thousand piranhas were biting every inch of his flesh, some had even infiltrated his skull, munching off chunks of his brain. He closed his eyes and sigh "I...I don't know...it could take a few days to find everything...I'll let you know by tomorrow..." The answer would still be no by tomorrow it would always be no. But he couldn't tell you that tonight not when you where so beaten and sad...when you couldn't utter a word without breaking down in tears. You quickly wrapped your arms around him, hugging him tightly as you buried your face in his chest, soaking up the sea salt scent that he dragged everywhere. Azul stiffened, lazily curling and arm around your back and patting it. "Thank you...Thank you so much" your tears began to flow again staining his powder blue vest. In his mind, Azul noted to never wash that vest again.Early the next morning Jade found his dorm leader passed out on the couch in his office. His glasses had fallen on the floor somehow still intact. His short silver hair was a mess. His school jacket had been discarded over his desk along with his shoes, one being placed neatly under the table while the other rested on its side over his jacket. "Boss?" The older twin was dumbfounded by the sight in front of him. Azul Ashengrotto, the well-kept deal maker of the school looked like a pathetic manta ray. "Boss!" Nope, nothing. With a sigh, Jade walked over to the couch, he grabbed the sweaty fabric of Azul's white button-up and forcefully swung him forward. "Azul!!" this was the loudest sternest tone he'd ever used on his dorm leader, the fear of what he may do to him washed over Jade causing him to break into a nervous sweat. Gradually the silver-haired second year's eye blinked open, he ran a hand over his face as he groaned loudly. "Time" He grumbled while cracking his neck from side to side. "Past eight am, classes start in ten...god what the hell happened to you last night?" For a minute Azul's mind blurred, the events of last night too distant and foreign to properly recall. The then it hit him like a typhoon, everything (y/n) had said, how she'd been such a mess, how she'd ask her help on the only matter he wished she hadn't."(Y/N)? The first-year who's in the ramshackle dorm?" A crease formed between Jade's brows, his mouth morphing into a scowl. "Is she refusing to pay? I'll send Jade to have a little chat with her, if that's the case." His fingers dove into his pocket fishing out his cellphone, he scrolled through look for his twin's number. "Put it away" Azul ordered, he slowly pushed himself to his feet, mumbling a couple of curses. "BUT!.." Jade's eyes widen, why was Azul acting so weird today? "Look.." The silver-haired man grabbed his coat slipping from under his right shoe. "It's not that she wasn't paid, heck she hasn't even signed the dame contract yet and frankly  I don't want her to!" The older leech twin stiffened, his mismatched eyes surveyed the office look for any signs of alcohol or party pills. That was the only reasonable explanation for why Azul was being so uncharacteristic. Azul marched back to the couch after having slipped on both shoes, he flopped down on his stomach dramatically letting out a high pitch cry. He angled his head to the side to stare up at his dormant, ocean blue eyes fogged with grief like a kicked seal. "I...I think...I love...her" even Azul couldn't believe the words coming from his mouth. He was notorious for his scheming and cunning nature being capable of getting whatever he wanted. Yet here he was moaning and groaning over a girl, a simple magicless darling girl.Jade was beginning to get slightly irritated, his dorm leader the great and powerful Azul was acting like a lovesick school girl. Reluncity he took a seat next to the Cecaelia, he began patting his back the way one would a small child. "The way I see it, you have the advantage here." Jade paused waiting for his words to sink in. Azul simply shifted his orbs to stare directly into Jade's golden ones. "How so" he murmured. "Why not provide her with a love potion. They are simple to come by and rather cheap in the noir market. In return for your services, she'll provide you with a pact to her soul. That way it wouldn't matter who she's in love with, she'll always have to return to you." Azul rolled over, curling his lips into a sly smirk.Excitement bubbled inside of you as you ran towards the Octavinelle dorm. You were so close to finally getting your happily ever after! So close to your true love! You pushed the decorative wooden doors open with all your force. "Azul!" Your cheerful voice bounced off the walls of his office reverberating back to you. Your shimmering eyes scanned the large room trying to find the man that held the last key to your happiness. Your sight finally landed on the silver-haired businessman man sat smugly at his desk, head leaning forward on entwined fingers. "(Y/n)! you finally made it my dear." He seemed to perk up upon seeing you a charming smile grazing his lips. You quickly ran over to the organized desk, slamming your hands on the oak wood you joyously yelled"Do you have it?!" "Yes right here--"You ripped the contract parchment from his hands and, using a golden fish skeleton pen you found on the desk you started to write the first letter of your name. 'Wait!" Azul reached out gripping your wrist tightly to prevent you from continuing. "Maybe you should read the fine print..." His voice trailed off never before had he wanted someone to read the fine print before heck he'd talked all so many people out of reading it! "No, no it's fine I'll pay whatever it takes!" You tugged your wrist from his fingers and rapidly scribbled the last few letters. You stood up straight reaching your hands out to Azul for him to drop whatever contraption he had conjured to help Malleus accept your confession. The sea witch tossed you a tiny glass bottle with a sickening pink like liquid inside. "Mix that into some chocolates or a drink or whatever you are going to give him, just make sure he eats it." You laughed as tears of joy slipped from the corners of your eyes. Spinning on your heels you dashed the door before Azul's voice stopped you dead in your tracks. "Aren't you forgetting your payment?"You turned with a frown on your face. "I-I um didn't bring anything with me, just tell me what it is you want and I'll go get it!" but Azul just shook his head and signaled with his finger for you to come back. Disheartedly you walked back to the desk, as you did so, Azul slipped a reflective colored oval into his mouth. As you stepped closer he grabbed your upper arm leaning you over his desk as his lips pushed upon your own. His teeth bite harshly into your lip causing you to which and open your mouth a bit, just enough for him to slip his tough in. Your mouth overflew with the taste of salt as something scaly slipped down your throat. As soon as you had swallowed the invasive object, Azul retracted. He clutched your chin with his fingers, tilting your head up. "Jade proposed I charge you a soul-bonding spell, in which your soul would become mine." Upon his words your eyes widen, a cold sweat broke over your body. "But being the saint that I am, I chose to charge you something else." You prayed in your mind that your payment would only be the kiss that whatever he had slipped into your mouth would have just been a joke, but your hope died down as he continued "I chose an attachment spell instead, much more effective and beneficial for the both of us. You can't step further than 12 meters from me or your body will start to morph into that of a tiny little fish. Really it's a gift it aids me in keeping you safe! "Once again tears started to fall from your eyes just like the night before. You're happily ever after shattering before your eyes. Azul let go of your chin and walked over from his desk. He laced his finger with your own and practically dragged you to the door, only stopping to retrieve his hat from the coat rack. "I believe we should get started on those chocolates from Malleus don't you agree? After all, he too should get a taste of what it feels like to want something yet for it to be so out of reach!""But not to worry you, poor unfortunate soul! Now that I have you in my clutch I'm NEVER letting you get away!"

Part Time Immortality (pt 1?)

Fandom: Buffy the Vampire Slayer

Pairing: Spike x Reader

Warnings: Cussing?

Genre: I think it’s cute and funny.

Summary: Y/n is a vampire with a soul who works a normal human job and does a lot of normal human things. Spike doesn’t get it. Featuring, Spike pinning and Y/N being a little hard to get? (This isn’t a request. I just started a new job and my body is hella mad at me for it).

  “I don’t get it, pet.”

  “And I don’t get why you’re even here. Now both of us are confused.” The kitchen was mostly loud and crowded, but luckily the spot of the dishwasher had some space away from the racket. For a while, Y/N enjoyed the extra space and the separation from others, though recently that space has been filled by a vampire who, for some reason, has been allowed to enter the establishment with little to no questions?

  “It just makes no sense. You do realize you’re an immortal being, right? All-powerful, grr, and what have you.” As Spike spoke he fished a cigarette out of his jacket, placing it lightly between his lips before lighting it. Spike had been at this same tangent for what seemed to be days. It wasn’t until today that he actually followed Y/N into the establishment, complaining about their odd choice in income. Really, he just couldn’t stand the idea of the somewhat object of his affection slaving away at some shit show that only gave them minimum wage. 

  Y/N let out a sigh at the sound of the lighter, not fully turning towards the vampire to address his oddly mortal addiction. 

  “Do you have to do that in here?” They didn’t hate smoking generally, but in a small place that was already humid and stuffy, it threatened to make them just a little more uncomfortable and that extra discomfort could cause them to snap.

  “What, is it illegal?” His face tightened, not liking being told what to do. Granted, he’d make a lot of exceptions for Y/N, but he couldn’t just roll over and be lovey-dovey when the bloody person wasn’t even with him. 

  “Uh, yeah. Passed 1995 in California...not that it hasn’t just been ignored for the most part...” Pulling the rack out from the dishwasher had hot steam blowing up into their face, irritating them further. 

  “Ugh, still so annoying.” They quickly wiped their wet hands on the apron before moving onto the next batch of dirty dishes, rinsing off the ones that wouldn’t just get washed in the dishwasher.

  “Yes, well, immortality doesn’t make you immune to getting annoyed...in fact, it tends to make it worse.” He took another long drag of his cigarette as he watched them move around the line. It was odd how they could make the most lackluster movements entrancing to him. They didn’t add anything special to their movements, but he could write a poem of how he felt it was a show nonetheless. 

  As they loaded in the next part of the dishes, y/n turned around with another heavy sigh and stared at Spike. They leaned against the counter behind them and crossed their arms, a pout setting in on their face. 

  “Okay, what is it? Why are you here? Actually, why did they even let you in?”

  “Well, for the last question, most of your coworkers including your boss is at least buzzed if not drunk. Something about kitchen service brings out the worse in any creature. Secondly, I’m just trying to figure out why you’ve subscribed to this bullshit? Aren’t you a bit young to have a soul? You should be out killing and stealing. Unliving up the good life.” His tone carried his disbelief and his arm gestures added that flare to sell home the point.

  “Well, the whole soul bit was a choice and I’m working so that I can get money so that I can pay bills and blah blah blah. I don’t do the dine and dash thing.” This wasn’t the first time Spike shared his disbelief over their choices. Heck, he wasn’t even the only vampire that used their choices as some quip against them.

  “Fine, you don’t have to. I’ll provide the all you can eat buffet.” The way he spoke was nonchalant and confident. 

  “Oh yeah? And what’s the price for that?” They couldn’t help the huff of laughter that escaped them. It was odd to be at the end of his praises, especially considering their past was filled with literally trying to kill each other. 

  “Just for you to be on my side. I think I’m being very generous.” He locked his eyes onto Y/N to gauge their response. It wasn’t as though he was simply testing the waters by this point, he all but declared the word ‘love’ since he had come to terms with his feelings. Looking at their response was more of a service to see if they were at least opening up to the idea. 

  “No, you’re being very demanding and persistent. I’m friends with the scoobies and an enemy to the big baddies, which includes you by the way! In case you forgot!” Their arms had dropped and they looked at him with such an expression of disbelief that it could almost hurt his feeling. It probably would have added to the sting of rejection if he didn’t have a good bet on them feeling the same.

  “...You think I’m a big baddie?” A mischievous smile spread across Spike’s face at the perceived compliment. 

  “Oh my god, Spike. What has gotten into you? You literally tried to dust me a few mo-”

  “BACK TO WORK Y/N! SAVE YOUR LARP TALK FOR OFF THE CLOCK. YOU TOO….BLONDEIE...” The boss had rounded the corner and had apparently decided to get strict on the amount of work being done. Y/N rolled their eyes before turning back to the dishes, shaking their head as they tried to brush off the shout.

  “...Honestly, it is amazing the human race has lasted this long.” They couldn’t help the exclamation, frustration building up with every moment spent inside of the kitchen.

  “See! You’re too good for them. You should be with your own kind-” Spike quickly went for it, figuring now was as good of a time as any to accurately show what he was meaning. 

  “You mean you.” Y/N interrupted with some annoyance written on their face but not nearly as much as earlier when the boss had spoke up. They had turned back to the vampire, already losing their motivation to continue the job at hand.

  “Yes, you should be with me. Glad we agreed to this!”

  “Spike!”

  “Y/N!”

  Y/N groaned and turned away from the vampire once again, annoyance causing their body to feel as though it was heating up despite knowing that wasn’t likely. While they were trying to will themselves to put forth the effort into their job, they simply just stared at the dishes. They stayed quiet for a moment, their thoughts racing with the conversation they were having. 

  “Spike, even if I said yes, you have that chip. You couldn’t provide if I wanted you to.”

  “Oh sure, rub it in love.” 

  “I’m not mocking you, Spike. At least not right now.” Their voice had gone somewhat quiet by the end of their sentence before they looked back to Spike, confusion, and a sort of vulnerability showing in their eyes. The look risked causing Spike’s heart to start beating.  

  “So, why are you being like this exactly? Last time I checked you hated me about as much as you hate Buffy. Something about me being a no-good vampire like your old friend Angel?” 

  “Well, you are an awful vampire. I’m not going back on that.” He snorted, eyes glancing to his hands as he fidgeted ever so slightly.

  “So then whats going on? Are you okay?”

  He hesitated at the question, always caught off guard when they expressed any concern for him. Of course, they would ask questions like that and then wonder why he was so intent on providing literally anything for them.

  “Why do you care if I’m okay?” He tried to egg them on, wanting to get them to confirm something he already knew. The question obviously backfired as their face went back to a look of exasperation.

  “Okay, if you’re just going to act like this the-” They were interrupted by Spike holding his hands up, trying to show he was backing off with his motions. 

  “You’re right, you’re right. Look, I-”

  “I TOLD YOU TWO-”

  “OH, SHUT THE FUCK UP CLENT! Jesus Christ, I swear, everyone else here can dick around, however, and whenever, but the moment I just breathe he fucking bites my head off.” They hadn’t realized how hard they had been gripping the lip of the sink behind them until a noise of metal crushing got their attention. They looked towards the now bent sink before looking back to Spike, already wanting the night to be over with. 

  “Listen, I get you want to do the whole human thing, but at least go after a different job. You’re fucking miserable, and coming from me that’s saying something. All these centuries I’ve tortured people and not once was I evil enough to put them into food service.” Spike shook his head as he watched Clent leave the area, his attention only being drawn from him when he heard Y/N bark out a laugh. A smile spread across his face at the pleasant sound that accompanied their smile. God, he’d kill to be able to hear that for the rest of his undead life.

  They stayed quiet for a moment before they shrugged. 

  “Fine. I’ll at least quit this shit job. But I’m still not being a bad guy with you and I’m getting another job when I can.” Y/N couldn’t keep their smile down, small chuckles continuing to escape them as they untied their apron. Spike clapped his hands together, standing up straighter. 

  “Good to hear. Now let’s get the hell out of here!” 

December Contest Submission #20: Never shall you ask me

Words: ca. 4500 Setting: Viking AU / late 9th century Norway Lemon: no CW: strong language, mentions of animal sacrifice, blood

Elsa Agnarrsdóttir had never minded the cold. It was warmth that made her shiver.

The cold had been her constant companion for as long as she could remember: at first, long days spent by the seashore, waiting for her father’s drakkar to fly into Arnardalr’s harbour laden with riches from foreign lands, ocean breeze tearing at her braid and gown and salt wash speckling her skin. Then, after, silent marches through wintery woods, white as far as the eye could see, with no companion save the darkness and the numbing chill in her bones.

The warmth, though? Loge’s flickering child had danced through the straw and thatch and rafters of her father’s hall like a hungry houseguest as, below, her kinsmen had fallen to the storm of shining battle-flames. The warmth had seared her, marked her for its own. Even now she feared it, for it meant the din of cups and the laughter of men in the feast hall, the company of ravens and the courtesy of wolves. 

Her maidservants shuddered as they stepped out into the cold from the heat of the mead hall and drew their furs closer, but Elsa stood proud and tall as a mast. She breathed in the sea breeze, felt the chill through the fabric of her dress. The guards outside—Hans’s—gave her respectful nods as she passed and fell in after them.

In silence, they proceeded outside the village and climbed the Thing hill, a bare, rocky knoll overlooking the harbour. Her grandfather, King Rúnharðr Rauðskeggr, had erected a runestone there, praising his deeds, but Hans had allowed the painted runes to weather away, so that only faded carvings remained. As the women and their guards ascended the hill, they passed through the crowd that had already assembled: housecarls and freemen from all around the valley, some with their sons, wives and thralls in tow, all arrayed in festive garments according to their means. They ringed King Rúnharðr’s runestone like waves in a pond, but made way for them. Some nodded respectfully as she passed. Others—far more—hid their faces and would not look at her.

Jarl Hans Haraldsson, called Hans Suðeyingr, stood at the top of the knoll, leaning on the runestone. Part of Elsa bristled at the desecration, but she knew there was no point in protesting. Hans gave her a wide smile that looked disconcertingly genuine, and one of her companions gasped with barely-veiled delight at the sight. Elsa resisted the urge to scowl at the swooning girl—even she had to admit that Hans was handsome, the very image of a young hero. His flame-red hair and beard were elegantly braided with golden ringlets, his mail shirt merrily glittered in the morning light, and his clothes were richly embroidered with gold and silver thread. His father’s many crowns certainly did not hurt his appeal, even if he was the youngest and least storied of King Haraldr’s many sons. Yes, Hans’s smile had an uncanny ability to make women swoon and fluster, there was no denying it—except, of course, for his betrothed, the woman he had swornhis eternal love a hundred times.

Well, former betrothed. Hans spread his arms as she approached, his smile widening. Elsa scowled at him. She knew better than to be taken in by his smiles and promises. “There she is! I’m glad we did not need to drag you here in chains.” Without paying her any further heed, he looked around. “Men of Arnardalr, you have heard my charge, and I have presented my witnesses. Now hear what she has to say for herself.”

The lawspeaker of the Thing stepped forth from the crowd. She knew Kai Lǫgmaðr well—he had served her father as a housecarl, once. Of course, he had then gone on to serve Hans as a housecarl, but he was not a southerner like the others—a good and loyal man, and wise, just like Gerðr his wife. She thought he cared for her wellbeing, but she had the feeling that would not help her today. “Lady Elsa,” he addressed her darkly, “Jarl Hans has accused you before the thing of murdering your sister, Anna Agnarrsdóttir, by drowning her in the sea five years ago. How do you respond to the charge?”

Elsa ground her teeth. She had been thirteen when Anna—aged ten—had disappeared. That had been less than a year after the southerners had come. With their parents slain and their foes living in their hall, the sisters had only had each other. They’d been inseparable. Except for that day. Elsa could not even recall why she had been mad at her little sister—something foolish involving Hans, no doubt. She had always resented the way Anna had idolised the son of their parents’ killer for every little kindness he had thrown their way like scraps to his dogs. Some stupid argument had sent her running back to the village while playing in the woods, leaving Anna behind. Her sister had not returned that night, and days of searching had come up with nothing.

Many years, Elsa had held on to the hope that somewhere, somehow, Anna might still be alive. I would have felt it, she had told herself and any who would listen. But as the years passed, this certainty had faded away, leaving only a dull ache and yearning, and the dreams that robbed her of her sleep. They had never found the body, but there were all sorts of danger in the woods for a little girl, from wolves to brigands. It was no use thinking about it—only regret remained: that her last words to Anna had been spoken in anger, and that Anna had never been baptised. Elsa prayed that meant Anna had gone to Fólkvangr, as her parents had taught them, not hell.

“Lady Elsa?”

She startled at Kai’s voice. “I reject the charge,” she then said. “I swear by the Virgin that I am guiltless. Moreover, I accuse Hans Suðeyingr of perjury, and call him a liar.”

A gasp went through the crowd, but Kai nodded. “You have that right. What witnesses do you offer?”

Elsa lowered her head. This was it. “None.” The crowd murmured, and Hans chuckled quietly to himself. “But,” she raised her voice, “I do not need any. I challenge Hans Suðeyingr to defend his lies. Is there anyone here who will brave the holmgang for me?”

The crowd fell silent. She looked around at weathered warriors who had raided with her father and stripling boys who had never held a sword. God, please. “Is there no drengr who will fight for me?” There was no response, and her heart sank. “Hear then how I will reward my champion! He shall take everything my father owned. And—” She swallowed. She knew what she had to say, but that did not make it harder. “And if he pleases, he may take me to wife.”

Still, there was silence. Hans’s hot breath brushed over her shoulder and she shivered. “Sounds like no one wants your frigid little kunta, dear. They know who owns you.” Elsa wanted nothing more than to draw her knife and stab him. If she was to be killed as a kinslayer, she’d happily take him with her. Even so, she knew he wasn’t wrong—year after year, she had refused one of the most eligible bachelors in Norway. People talked.

Silence. Elsa hung her head.

“I’ll fight for her!” The high voice had come from the edge of the crowd, where the thralls and younger sons stood. “Oh, sorry—excuse me—coming through …” Her heart sunk. Then, it leapt, as a vision of her father emerged out of the crowd. No—not her father. Still, for a moment, she had been fooled. The stranger was beardless and scrawny, scarcely fifteen winters under his belt. He had her father’s bright copper hair, though, worn long and gathered in a ponytail at the back, and large, eager turquoise eyes. He was simply-dressed in a green tunic and blue leggings, and had a small axe on his belt and a shield slung around his shoulders. An iron broach in the shape of a swan held his cloak. She had never seen him before.

The stranger grinned at her with such obvious enthusiasm she found herself returning a faint smile, even as her heart sunk. No, you fool, she wanted to shout, Hans is going to carve you up like a slab of meat, but no words came across her lips.

“I will fight for you,” he repeated, and took her hand in his. She nearly flinched from the touch, from the warmth of his skin. “But there is something you must promise me first.”

“What?” The question died in her throat.

The grin disappeared. Bright turquoise eyes stared at her, insistent and piercing. His words were like an incantation. “Never shall you ask me, nor trouble yourself to know, whence I have come, nor what my name and clan.”

An outlaw, then. A fugitive thrall. She wanted to laugh in his face. She whispered: “I … swear it.”

The stranger beamed, pure bliss in his eyes. “I love you, Elsa,” he blurted out, rushed in and pressed his lips to hers. For a moment, she froze as warmth sent shivers down her entire body. Then, she stumbled, jumped away from the kiss. The stranger seemed utterly unperturbed, but her face—and her lips, and something else—burnt like fire. “Now hear, Hans Haraldsson!” he shouted so all could hear. “Elsa Agnarrsdóttir is without guilt or fault—let it be known to you through Valföðr’s choice!”

Later, Elsa could not have said why she had ever underestimated her champion. Hans was a mighty drengr and an experienced viking, true, but the stranger moved with the grace of a cat and attacked with the ferocity of a wolf. Three times they met upon the island, and three times the stranger’s axe cleft deep into Hans’s shield. When the third shield split, the first drops of blood flowed. “Through Odin’s word, your life belongs to me,” the stranger had called out, the blade of his axe at prone Hans’s throat, then helped him up to his feet. “Take it as my gift, and use it well.”

And then it was over.

Even as an outlaw, no one dared lay hands on Jarl Hans or his loyal housecarls, so he quietly left the valley. Part of Elsa wished she had gotten her revenge, but at least this way he was gone. That left the oath she had sworn to save her life.

She barely spoke to her drengr over the next three days as they feasted and drank. The stranger sat at the head of the table, talking to jarls and þegns thrice his age like he had been born to it, while Elsa sat silently at his side, poking at her food. She loathed the heat and smoke of the mead hall. The flickering fire at its centre made her eyes water, while the shouting and laughter of the guests felt like horses galloping through her skull. But every time she caught the eye of her betrothed, he would smile at her, eyes wide and bright, as though she was the most precious hoard in the nine worlds. He would say something, and more often than not it would make her laugh, and by the time another well-wisher or petitioner came up to the high table it was easier to bear.

After three days of feasting, it was time for the ceremonies. Her groom bade her farewell with a chaste kiss as they parted—him heading for the grove, Elsa for the church with the other Christians. It was no more than a brief peck on the cheek, and yet the spot his lips had touched burned for hours afterwards. Was this what it was supposed to feel like? A few boys had tried to kiss her in the past, not the least of which was Hans, but she had always been repulsed and nauseated by the sensation. This was … pleasant. It made her burn, yes, made her body heat up like all the fires of Múspellsheimr were burning in her chest. But maybe, just maybe, the warmth was not all that fearsome anymore.

All warmth fled when she saw Hans Suðeyingr, standing at the front of the church. With clenched fists, she took her place next to him as the priest began his liturgy. “You’re an outlaw, Hans,” she hissed once the sermon had begun. “What in Loki’s name are you doing here?”

Hans gave her a sardonic smile. “I could hardly miss the wedding, could I? I have to say, I didn’t think you’d have it in you. How long have you been letting that thrall boy do you behind my back?” Elsa wondered if God would punish her for stabbing a man to death during Mass. “No matter. Tell me, though, how did he beat me? Did your thrall mother teach you Finn seiðr, or did you fuck a boar for Vanadís?”

“Maybe you’re just not as formidable as you think,” she hissed back.

He only smiled at that, handsome and infuriating as ever. “We’ll see.” Then: “So, which is he? A thrall or an outlaw? If he were an honest man, he wouldn’t have forbidden you to ask his name.” He smirked. “We wouldn’t want people to think your boy toy had beaten me through magic or trickery rather than God’s judgment. Don’t you think he looks a bit Finnish? Ah, no matter. Just remember when you try to wash away his stench—you could have had a king’s son. Pater noster qui es …”

She went through the motions of Mass. Hans left her alone after this, but his words lingered. The stranger—her husband, by day’s end—was a nobody. He might as well be a Finnish sorcerer, though she did not think there was more of her mother’s people in him than in her. He had no allies, no housecarls, no clan that she knew of, nothing but what she brought into the marriage herself. And yet, he had fought like one of the einherjar, and spoke well and gracefully like a jarl’s son. Had his family fallen prey to a blood feud, like her own? Would his enemies come after him? Whatever the case, she had to know. He’ll tell me once we’re alone. He must.

Her groom and the other pagans of the valley awaited them as they left the church, keeping a respectful distance from the churchyard. The stranger, hands and cheek covered in the fresh blood of sacrificial victims, beamed when he saw her, and Elsa’s cheeks warmed. But then, his face fell as Hans stepped from the church behind her, and he hurried towards them. “And here comes your pet,” Hans drawled.

Her champion paid him no mind. “Is he bothering you, Elsa?”

She ground her teeth. “It’s fine. Hans was just leaving.”

Hans gave her groom a pleasant smile, as false as any he had ever shown her. A crowd of spectators, churchgoers and pagans both, had gathered around them. “I merely wanted to congratulate you on the wedding. It is not often a man so young, or so lowly, marries the daughter of a king.”

Her groom’s hand went to his axe. “You call me lowly, níðingr?”

Hans spread his arms as if to address the thing. “I call you a thrall, and a seiðmaðr, who on the holm blunted my axeblade with evil galdrar. You spared him this question before the shield-clash, so now let me ask it before all the people: what is your name, your clan, your rank?”

Part of Elsa felt oddly flattered that the stranger’s eyes immediately shot to her, even as the crowd around them gasped at the allegations. But she could not deny that the question had made her prick up her ears. Would she know her husband’s name after all?

“I need not justify myself to an outlaw and a perjurer,” her groom exclaimed, keeping his eyes on Elsa. She thought she could detect a faint quiver in his voice. “Even were you a king, I would owe you no response. There is but one I must answer. Elsa …” The words died on his lips as he stared at her, pleading.

She could end it all right now. The stranger might have powerful enemies, but she was certain he was nobly born. The judgment of the holmgang would stand. Hans would be still be outlawed, and she would be free of both men, free to—at last—inherit her father’s estate in her own right. The stranger would, no doubt, have to flee his foes, but … she barely knew him. What was he to her? Big, turquoise eyes looked at her, a faint, nervous smile. Warmth rose to her cheeks. She said: “You all saw his good deed and his manly mettle. I trust my—my husband.”

No one had looked at her like that in years, and as Elsa beheld the overwhelming love in his eyes, she felt very strange indeed.

And then, they were wed.

With the ale-horn emptied, the swords exchanged and her bridal crown removed, the revellers had wasted no time in escorting them to the bedchamber in a flurry of bawdy jokes and flirtatious banter. Her husband gave as good as he got, but by the time they were left on their own in the bridal chamber, Elsa was on the brink of panic. This was the part she had been dreading. The bedding—and the liberties some of the men had taken in relieving her of her outer garments—had not helped matters. She sat on the edge of the bed, decorated with flowers and ribbons, hugging herself despite the heat of the hall, her shoulders pulled almost up to her ears. She was dressed only in a wool shift, and felt naked and small.

Her husband closed the door behind the last of the revellers. Then, he sunk against it and exhaled a sigh. “Alone at last,” he muttered, and turned to look at her. “Elsa …” She retreated further into herself, and he sat by her side, carefully keeping a thumb’s distance from her body. “I won’t hurt you,” he whispered. “I won’t let anyone hurt you, ever again.”

“Of course,” she murmured. Quietly, she cursed herself—a sane woman would have counted herself lucky to have a husband so considerate, kind, even. This was simply part of the bargain. A sane woman would have taken Hans up on his offer. “Let’s … let’s get this over with, shall we?” That probably wasn’t what he’d been hoping to hear.

Her husband sighed. “Elsa …” Abruptly, he rose and unclasped the swan broach. His cloak dropped to the floor, and he pulled up his tunic … Elsa pressed her eyes shut. She did not need, nor want, to see this.

Eventually, the rustling of cloth ceased. “Elsa,” her husband said. His voice was low, gentle. With her eyes closed, she let her imagination run away with the sound of her name on his lips. To hear it spoken with such love and affection might have made her giddy with delight if it was not her husband speaking it. “Elsa, look at me, please.”

She forced open her eyes. Then, she gasped. Her husband’s body, naked but for a small silver necklace, was toned, every muscle well-defined. More scars were carved on his flesh like battle-runes than befitted one so young.

It was also, quite obviously, womanly. A pair of small, well-formed breasts speckled in freckles sat on her husband’s … wife’s? … chest, and a thin patch of red hair between … her … legs not only drew attention to what wasn’t there, but also made her body tingle. Instinctively, she pressed her thighs together. Her breath hitched. “You … you’re a …” The word died in her throat. A valkyrie? A seiðmaðr, like Hans had said?

“A woman,” her … spouse replied. “Like you.”  The stranger knelt in front of her, took her hands. Elsa tried not to flinch from the touch, even as it sent shivers down her spine. She’d noticed herself reacting in this way to other women’s bodies before, but never with such intensity. No doubt, the solitude of the bridal chamber and her shock had heightened her emotions.

“Forgive me,” her naked drengr explained. “I’m sorry for the deception. I intended only to protect you, not rob you of a chance at marriage.” She bit her lip. “I understand if you’re alarmed, but I promise that I’m not going to touch you. If you like, we can …”

The words fled her lips unbidden, like an evil curse. “What if I want you to?” She shut her mouth and flushed. So did the stranger. God, what a fool she was—maybe if she played it off as a joke? She opened her mouth to respond …

Once more, her drengr’s lips found hers, and her whole body lit on fire.

“I … I love … ah!”

“You look conflicted.” They lay facing each other, their bodies bare, sore and hot. It had been some time since the flood of their passion had ebbed, and it felt as though a sword’s blade lay between them, as each had suddenly grown hesitant to touch the other.

Her drengr bit her lip at Elsa’s question. “I feel like we’ve made a terrible mistake,” she murmured.

“Maybe. But it was a good mistake.” Once more she noticed the freckle right between her lover’s eyes, which she had so enjoyed kissing.

The other woman remained silent, so Elsa reached across to take her small silver hammer pendant in her hand. Elaborate knotwork decorated Mjǫllnir’s head. She had once owned a similar piece, but it had been reforged into a crucifix after her conversion. “You keep the old gods?”

“As your father did.”

She startled. “You know of my father?”

Her ‘husband’ flushed as though caught in a lie. “I know men who sailed with Sea-King Agnarr Rúnharðsson. They told many tales of his exploits.” She grinned. “And of his beautiful daughter.”

Elsa hid her red face in the pillow. She was clearly teasing, but still. “My father had two daughters,” she muttered, quietly, then looked once more at her lover. What would Anna look like now, had she lived? It was difficult to square the child she remembered with the woman she might have become.

“It’s strange,” she whispered at last. “When I first saw you, it was like waking from a dream. You seemed so familiar. Like I have seen you every night of my life.”

“Elsa, let’s not … let’s not go there.” Somewhat hesitantly, where before there had been only eagerness, her drengr leant in to kiss her, gentle and chaste.

“I don’t even know what to call you.” Hearing her name on her lips always sent shivers down Elsa’s spine. She wished she could repay that. Sitting up, she looked down at her drengr. “Now that I know you’re a woman …”

“No.” The response fell like an axe-blow. More softly, she added: “I cannot tell you who I am. Just … just know that I am no thrall. I am your equal in every respect, and my home is glorious. If King Haraldr himself offered me his crowns, I would rightly scorn them.”

“So what is this?” Flames rose in Elsa’s chest. “Do you just go around the countryside, saving maidens for sport? Is that why you won’t tell me, because you’ll abandon me for your glorious home?”

The drengr jumped up. “Never …”

“Then tell me!” Tears welled in her eyes. Her lover seized her wrists, she struggled. “How can you claim to love me, when you won’t give me even that? How can I trust you’ll stay with me when every day I live in fear?”

“Elsa, please!”

“Tell me!” She freed herself, stumbled backwards, raised her finger at her. “Tell me your name!”

“Stop!”

“Whence you have come!”

“I beg of you!”

“And what is your clan!”

The woman staggered as if struck by a hammer-blow, collapsed on the side of the bed, hid her face. Elsa lowered her outstretched finger. Hot tears streamed down her cheeks.

“Woe,” the drengr whispered, “woe to our bliss.”

Once more, they dragged her out to the thing hill. This time, it was the woman who only yesterday had made her feel like a goddess who stood before King Rúnharðr’s stone. There was nothing but disgust in the eyes of the men around her, disgust for her, the oathbreaker who had asked the forbidden question, even as Elsa stood in the mud and snow unable to look her beloved in the face. “I could refuse Hans,” her drengr said, her voice flat, “but never you.” She closed her eyes. “Hear then how I answer her forbidden question—and hear if I am not as noble as you.”

“In a distant land, far across the swan-field’s roar, there stands a fortress which is ‘Jómsborg’ called. Five score ships lie at anchor in her harbour, and a thousand men feast always in her mead hall, who call themselves Jómsvikingar. Of their number, one in ten goes bear-skinned, one in ten wears the skin of Viðrir’s hounds, and one in a score with boar-skin bristles. Each of their ranks is blooded in the sword-din, and many men to Valhöll they have sent. Those who from Jómsborg go a-viking, who fight in foreign fields for fame and wealth, bring glory to them all.

“Now hear how I honour my wife’s forbidden question: a Jómsvikingr am I, raised from childhood on. My fathers were Brynjulfr Sløngvandbaudi, who killed Fúlnir Ímisson on Orkneyjar, Engill Rúmfari, who died in Grikkland, and Strut-Haraldr, who taught me manly arts of war. But before that, I was sat on the knee of Styrbjǫrn Ólafsson, known as Styrbjǫrn Sterki, who rules as jarl in Jómsborg.

“When I was a child of ten, I was lost in the woods and set upon by three wolves. I grasped a sharp rock with which I slew one and drove off another, but the third would have killed me, had not Styrbjǫrn Sterki found and saved me. He took me to Jómsborg and raised me a Jómsvikingr. I was an orphan girl ere he made me a shieldmaiden, as I am now. My mother’s name was Iðunnr in Finna, who was the freedwoman and wife of my father, King Agnarr Rúnharðsson, but I myself am Anna Agnarrsdóttir called!”

Elsa hung her head, and Anna left.

“I wasn’t sure you’d come.”

“Me neither,” Elsa confessed. Anna grinned at that and pulled her into a deep embrace. Her body was warm, soft, inviting. “But I am here.”

The snow on the holm creaked under their feet as they gathered their things. “You didn’t bring much,” Anna pointed out. “It’s a long journey to Jómsborg.”

Elsa gave her a faint smile. “I had to pack in a hurry. Besides …” she leant in to kiss her—chastely on the cheek, for now. There would be time to renegotiate their new relationship later. “I’ve got my sister back. That’s all I need.”

A cold north wind flew over the holm, tearing through their cloaks, and Elsa shivered. “I ought to have brought more furs,” she said.

Anna smirked at her, and that smirk shone more brightly in the night than Surtr’s sword. “That’s alright,” she said. “I’ll keep you warm.”

A Moment of Rest

(This is set and written before season 3 came out.  Slight NSFW due to nudity) SUMMERY - After fleeing across the land, facing the Retainers and literally begging Kya and Helena are finally given their moment in a hot bath. ************** Helena sighed softly as she tilted her head back. The bath was not as luxurious as the one in her quarters of the Witch Queen’s palace, nor did the stonework hold the same memories. The same nightmares. She had not cleaned her wounds in lonely silence here, nor had her hands mapped the landscape of her love’s gentle body. As unfamiliar as her former enemy’s palace was, it was a welcome relief to simply submerge her aching body in hot water. Steam rose from the cloudy surface, weaving through her mane of blonde hair and seeping up into the warm room. The walls were a light brown tinged cream, reflecting the gentle torchlight enough to give the illusion of a golden glow filling the room. The stone floor was an off white, gently complimenting the colouration of the rich wooden window frame. Curtains were drawn across the glass, rejecting the afternoon sun in favour of shadows. Yet, never was the dimness oppressive. If anything, it was comforting, adding to the gentle scented soaps and the faint wafting scent of baking foods from the kitchen down the halls.

“You seem more relaxed.” Kya’s soft voice playfully teased, even as she sat on the opposite side of the humongous stone tub. Her curious fingers reached out, tickling the surface of the water around Helena. Her flintstone eyes remained fixated on the ends of Helena’s hair, watching the white gold swirl through the steam with an awestruck smile. Kya, never one to push, kept her eyes averted from the War Mage as if looking would cost her sight itself. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to look, Gods it was all she wanted to do. She longed to take in the sight of the beautiful Sorceress. It was almost a physical ache, forcing her muscles not to reach out and touch without invitation. Keeping herself so restrained when a siren lounged beside her. A siren singing of love and sacrifice, of all the agony of abusive hands melting away beneath love’s touch. 

“Hmm.” Helena hummed noncommittally in agreement, suggesting her mind had wandered. The sound was soft, low and purring in her throat. It did, in truth, remind Kya of a sleepy cat. A content kitty curled up in the sun, relishing gentle petting from her human. Helena’s form shone in the water. Her naked skin glistened beneath the cloudy surface, gentle curves and outlines that flickered in the edge of Kya’s view. Try as she might to ignore temptation, Kya’s eyes eventually wandered to Helena’s shoulders, tracing over them for a brief moment as the Sorceress sighed again. Helena carried so much weight on her shoulders. The weight of over a thousand lives, all snuffed out with blades and magic. The weight of her role in the genocide of the Demon Race. The weight of the Witch Queen’s affections. Of torture and pain unending. Even now, Kya knew the dark bruising from her stab wound still painted her shoulder blade in fading yellows and blues. Gods, how Kya wished she could take the tension and pain from Helena. How she wished she could just wrap her arms around the taller woman and protect her from her nightmares.

“May I touch you?” The word fell from Kya’s lips before she could stifle them, breaking the content mood in an instant. Something tense hung in the air, threaded into the silence and radiating off the Sorceress in waves as she lifted her head. Her blonde locks hung down her defined back, gleaming like white gold in sunlight, embracing the curve of her shoulder as she turned to look at Kya. The hesitancy and surprise there nearly broke the poor girl from Chicago. It was a dumb question. Pushing. Demanding too much of the Mage. The fact they were even here, completely bare in each other’s space, was a huge accomplishment and that had been accomplished by dimming the room. Even in their most intimate moments, where Helena had shown Kya exactly what worship could feel like, the breathtakingly beautiful woman had never completely exposed herself. Never allowed her lover to touch her in turn.    Nearly always craved darkness to shadow her form. The Witch Queen’s abuse ran deep in Helena’s soul, tainting almost every action.

“-and I have her hands. Her face. Even after our progress today I just kee- eeepp-” Kya’s thoughts trickled to a halt as Helena stood, coming out of the water to her waist.

“-Eyes on hers, Kya. Don’t be a perv. Don’t look down... I am too gay for this woman. Think of England. All your favourite shows cancelled. Cold rainy days. She is so hot- Nope. Damn. All this water and I am still thirsty! Just keep your EYES UP GIRL-“ Kya’s brain practically melted as she forced herself to keep her eyes on Helena’s, swallowing a lump in her throat at the smirk that crossed Helena’s lips. The Sorceress knew precisely what she was doing to Kya. Mercifully, Helena stepped toward the middle of the tub, sinking back down to her collarbone. The Former General’s brows lowered, her lips fixed in a contemplative line even as she slowly drew closer. The water parted, whispering over creamy skin and flushed patches of the magical creature. Helena, even completely concealed, stole Kya’s breath away once more as her hand reached out for Kya’s.

“Are you not satisfied, gentle heart? Do you need me again?” Helena’s voice was low, touched with longing as she came into Kya’s space. The raven haired girl blushed furiously, spluttering at the thoughts that followed. Helena was VERY good at satisfying. Too good. So good she technically failed her goal considering Kya always wanted her Sorceress. It was worse than a caffeine addiction! Kya forever craved her sweet, beautiful girlfriend. Any moment with Helena was wonderful, from simply eating together to the most intimate touches. Her thoughts had not drifted to far towards debauchery until Helena’s deep blue eyes roamed down to the water, clearly inspecting her body. Worship, adoration and desire waged war in Helena’s eyes, which softened even as they darkened. They appeared to flare black with something which was not her raw magic. It was more akin to hunger. Raw and primal, tempered by loving intent.

“I-I always want you. But I didn’t mean THAT!” Kya hurriedly squeaked, earning an amused yet tender smile from the taller woman. Whilst desire stole her breath, Helena’s genuinely pleased expressions erased breath from Kya’s being. They encompassed the girl in warmth, as if her blood had turned to liquid happiness.

“I just wanted to. I don’t know, cuddle? Help wash your back, maybe your hair, but I know you’re working through a lot and we went further today. I mean, we’re in the same tub, completely naked, and there’s even light! I don’t want to pressure you. I know you have a lot to work through from the Bitch, I mean Witch Queen and-“

“My love.” Helena fondly silenced the rambling woman, her eyes glistening as if she may shed tears. The look of awe and surprise whenever she was offered a choice broke Kya’s heart. Helena had come a long way, but even with such progress she couldn’t fully conceal her shock when she was even offered a thank you. Praise made the Mage bloom, with startled laughs and gleeful smiles that the iciest façade couldn’t smother or contain. The first time Kya had seen the Mage’s alarm at consideration, the girl from another world had vowed to show Helena every kindness. Every small thing people took for granted. For a few moments, nothing but the gentle sloshing of the water filled their ears, along with the thumping of their hearts. Then, Helena broke the silence.

“The same boundary applies. I wish I could offer more of myself, but I... I simply cannot. Not yet.” The Sorceress hung her head, joy washing from her expression. Deep blue eyes dimmed, slamming shut to conceal the emotion within. In that instant, Helena acted as if she were dirty. A filthy creature for not submitting her body to another. For fearing a touch that had only ever been torture, even at its most exquisite.

“Helena,” Kya gently scolded, silencing the Mage’s apology as she stood in the tub. With her breasts exposed, Kya had to fight back the urge to conceal herself. Heat rose in her cheeks, unbidden and unwelcome. She shivered as she felt the sting of cold air, along with water trickling suggestively down her exposed figure. The droplets shone like diamonds across her pale skin in the low lighting, catching in the shadows between her breasts and the hollow of her throat. She was not as in shape as Helena, with a healthy layer of fat over her fine frame. No muscles showed when she moved, stepping just a little closer so she could reach out and cup Helena’s cheek. Now, Helena didn’t flinch. She leaned into the offered affection, nuzzled even before pressing a gentle kiss to the inside of Kya’s wrist, lips pressed adoringly to the hammering pulse. It took a moment for her gaze to drift upwards, once again meeting Kya’s.

The otherworldly girl had fascinatingly beautiful eyes. Grey like storm clouds, yet touched with flecks of blue that made them deeper. The way they twinkled was almost like the night sky, gleaming beneath dark hair and amidst pale skin. They always disarmed Helena, especially when they were filled with such tenderness. When they were so soft and utterly devoted to the Sorceress.

“What the Queen did to you was horrific. You survived for so many years, Helena. The fact you can even look at me, let alone let me touch you anywhere. I’ll never do that. I won’t hurt you like she did.” her voice was soft. So gentle and yet so fierce. A blanket wrapping around Helena’s senses, tender to the woman it embraced and stern to all outside threats. As if the fierce edge could give the abusive Queen pause.

“I know, my love. You’re not her. You may look alike, but that is where the similarities end. Her touch held no kindness. Yours... I feel like I could be worth...” the Sorceress began to hesitate, unable to find the right words.

“Helena, you’re everything to me. You gave up everything you had to protect me. Stood up to the most terrifying woman in history just for the chance of saving me. You deserve kindness. You deserve to be loved. I’m not going to stop telling you that until you believe it. I’m your girlfriend, Helena Klein. That means I get to compliment you whenever I like, especially when its true. Get used to it.” Kya was quick to cut in, unable to contain herself any longer. Her fingers ghosted gently along Helena’s flesh as she moved her thumb in a circle, rubbing over Helena’s cheekbone as if she might find tears falling. Again, blue eyes went wide in alarm and gratitude, only to then be flooded with such love that it felt as if the air had been stolen from Kya’s lungs.

“Touch me.” Helena’s invitation was simple, but it was enough. The way her eyes glistened and her voice trembled, it was clear she was overcoming some form of obstacle in her tormented mind to allow it. Kya, despite her urge to rush, moved slowly. She kept everything telegraphed, watching Helena’s face like a hawk for the slightest trace if fear. Anticipation burned in the Mage’s eyes, along with such an intense curiosity that it overshadowed the lingering concern. Just like in the forest when Helena had discarded the Queen’s colours.

“Do you want me, you know, not look?” Kya’s question was gentle as she lowered herself in the water again, sitting chest to chest with her Sorceress yet never touching. Flint eyes stayed focused on Helena’s, never giving into the temptation of drifting downwards as she watched Helena’s expression shift. The soft smile she received was not what Kya expected, nor did she dare hope for the next move. Helena, with a small shiver, reached out to Kya, grasping her by the hips. Helena’s long fingers dug into her flesh, using the pads of her fingers instead of her nails. The touch was not aggressive or painful despite its eagerness. Merely curious, learning how best to fit together. Kya could feel the calluses formed by years of combat, yet Helena’s hands were equally as soft. Her touch was softer as her palms slid along Kya’s skin, seeking out the most natural place to rest. Even when the Mage suddenly pulled Kya to her chest, closing the distance between them, she never once caused pain.

“Oh!” Kya gasped, blinking at the feeling of her naked curves crushed against Helena’s. That was new, enough to make Kya’s skin tingle. If she had thought it warm before, the burst of uncontrolled flame in her veins eradicated all previous concepts of heat. Judging by the brilliant pink staining Helena’s cheeks, the Mage felt the same way.

“-I wonder if her magic would have flared?-“ Kya couldn’t help but ponder, cheeks going even brighter at the thought of magic crackling over the Mage’s bare form. Helena was always warm. From the moment Kya had first hugged the Spell Caster, she had always been impervious to the cold. Icy weather and terrifying forests hadn’t been enough to steal Helena’s heat. Kya noted how cold the Mage felt in comparison. Without her magic freely flowing, Helena felt almost sick against her despite the healthy weight and muscle. Helena’s magic, however terrifying it had been to the world, was a missing piece of her. It radiated in everything, and yet was barely noticeable at the same time. Kya doubted anybody who hadn’t spent so long studying Helena would even notice.

“Did it hurt? Having your magic sealed?” Kya questioned before she could stop herself, instinctively bringing her hands to Helena’s shoulders. She felt the tension radiate through every muscle, the flowing strings beneath her palms as Helena’s head fell forwards. The Mage rested her forehead against Kya’s shoulder, nose burrowing into the younger woman’s neck as she took a deep, calming breath.

“When I was with her, if I did not control it the Queen would seal my magic away. She’d leave me bound for hours, or she would touch me until it went beyond tolerance. I had to learn to think through the pain and heat to do as she commanded. I was taught thank her for such lessons without begging her to stop, less she take my voice too.” The Mage finally confessed, pressing into Kya’s reassuring warmth. For Helena, she loved warmth. It meant her magic was free and the Queen’s hands were far from her. Perhaps that is what she loved about Kya. Kya’s gentle touch was always warm, and inspired heat to bloom in the Mage’s chest. An emotional warmth she had never been able to experience before. It was enough to combat the shame of the Queen’s forced touch. Of every indecent thing she had forced Helena to learn and say for her pleasure. Kya was a balm, a remedy to all the pain of Helena’s life. Kya nurtured her, encouraging Helena to embrace her own desires. Kya had a kind word for every opinion, praise for every spell, love and acceptance every time Helena broke under the weight she bore. Kya practically shone when Helena preformed even the smallest acts of good which the Queen had crushed from her.

“You’re so amazingly strong, Helena. I’m so proud of you.” Kya whispered fiercely, although they were alone in the room. The Chicago girl wanted to murder the Bitch Queen. Wanted to take a chainsaw and rocket launcher and every cliché action hero weapon and destroy the castle. Destroy the evil that had broken the woman in her arms. Instead of reacting with rage, however, Kya decided to focus on Helena. To show Helena she was not ashamed or afraid of the Mage after all she had suffered. Kya wrapped one arm around Helena’s back, pulling the Sorceress closer as her other hand came up to Helena’s hair. Her fingers brushed through the strands, rubbing gentle circles on Helena’s scalp in an effort to be soothing.

“-I’m going to fucking kill that bitch... but I can’t. She has all that power and I’m just me. But I WON’T let her touch Helena again. She won’t hurt Helena. Nobody will while I’m here.-“ Kya’s protective thoughts crumbled into horror when Helena tilted her head back, eyes closed and jaw tense. The Mage’s expression showed acceptance, as if resigned to the fact she must surrender. Try as she might, Helena couldn’t force her jaw to relax, couldn’t erase the crease of fear in her brow after responding to the gentle pressure of Kya’s fingers. Helena had been waiting, expecting the harsh pull and the touch of magic to her throat. She waited for the pain as she was dragged, to be positioned like a toy for her Queen to play with. Yet, this had been different. The touch had been so gentle, so considerate. But... what else could the gesture be requesting if not her submission?

“Helena? Whats wrong? Did I hurt you? I’m here. She can’t touch you. Helena, come back,” Kya’s voice held an edge of worry, nothing like the teasing of the Queen. Helena took a breath. Waiting. Would it be harsh teeth this time, or the gentlest kiss to deliver the poisonous ice to her flesh? She waited. Another breath. Nothing. The fingers continued their movement, each circle giving the most gentle pull to the little hairs. Yet, Kya’s hand never moved. Never pushed. Never yanked. Simply rested, almost in a comforting manner. Helena blinked, finally focusing on the feeling of the fingers against her scalp. It... It actually felt good. Really, really good. Soothing enough to draw a soft groan of contentment from her after a moment. Of course, her cheeks flared as the sound escaped, utterly ashamed. Although her jaw softened, her brows remained furrowed, unable to solve the puzzle of what was happening to her.

“Nobody has ever played with your hair? Or given you a head massage?” Kya questioned, recognizing the pattern of Helena contemplating something unfamiliar. It was sickening. How quickly a soft gesture could be mutilated into torture, especially this type of torture. It was enough to earn a small sniffle from Kya, even as she tried to swallow the lump from her throat.

“-Oh, poor Helena-“

“Turn around and I’ll wash your hair for you. Or just hold you... is that alright?”

“Both sound lovely.” Helena finally responded, shifting to her feet. Kya yelped, slamming her eyes shut before the woman’s breasts broke the waterline. The water once more swished and sloshed gently, filling Kya’s ears. She waited, feeling the water push against her knees and thighs as Helena turned. That said, Kya was only human. Her eyes snapped open at Helena’s amused chuckle, finding her view filled with the Mage’s back. The skin was not flawless, instead it was covered in silvery lines. Some appeared to be from blades, likely from the battle field, yet others were strange. Biting and deep, as if delivered in precise rage.

“-Whipmarks? That cliché vilianous bitch!-“ Kya furiously came to realize, staring at the tapestry of the Queen’s abuse. Of Helena’s strength. Oddly enough, the curves of each scar reminded Kya of the moon, whilst the scattered lines may as well have been shooting stars. These scars made Helena’s flesh brighter than any diamonds as torchlight and water highlighted them. It was almost ethereal. Of course, the glistening beauty was nothing compared to the subtle quirk of Helena’s lip as she gazed over her shoulder at Kya.

“I am too gay for this.” Kya whimpered. Her eyes were like saucers, attempting to pick out every line past Helena’s glorious hair as the Mage finally dropped back into the water.

“I’m happy too, my love.” the Mage sighed, earning a bright blush and actual giggle from Kya.

“-Too freaking adorable.-“ Her thoughts swooned. Quickly, she decided not to delve into the explanations of sexualities and such of her world. Homophobia didn’t appear to be a thing in this one, thank heavens, and if it was Kya had no intention of bringing it up.

“So. How long do you think it will be before they let us into the village? We could go shopping for new clothes. You could pick out some outfits.” Kya inquired, leaning forwards to press her lips to Helena’s shoulder before she could stop herself. The soft skin beneath her lips remained relaxed, even as Helena tilted her head back to rest it on Kya’s shoulder. Between the subdued taste of Helena’s flesh and the tickling of her hair, Kya found herself sighing in bliss. There were no expectations. No goals. Nothing but the single moment.

“Given we have agreed to face the Queen, not as long as we think. Lord Wolfson undoubtedly will be merciful.  However, I don’t believe he will simply allow us to wander into the village. Not without guards.”

“Of course he’ll give your magic back, you are awesome. You’re beautiful, smart and your magic is fucking wild!” Kya enthused. This time, Helena’s laugh was more amused than startled, almost sleepy given how she melted against Kya.

“I suppose it could be, for those who haven’t seen it before.” Helena agreed, shifting until her back rested comfortably against Kya’s chest. The closeness was nice, the Mage quickly decided. Even though she could feel Kya’s heart thumping, and every twitch as the woman’s breathing hitched, she didn’t fear that Kya would pressure her. The otherworldly woman had proven time and time again that she wanted Helena at Helena’s pace.

“I remember the Queen. I remember what little choice I was given. How she took her pleasure without a care for mine.” Helena admitted after a long silence, allowing her eyes to drift closed once more. She wanted to give, to allow Kya closer than the physical world could ever allow. Even driven by this desire, the words had threatened to weave into a knot at the back of her throat. The pressure had been enough to force her to swallow back bile and bitter emotions. The memories of the two women warred in Helena’s mind. The same face and hands, yet entirely different women. The Queen’s violence terrified her. Harsh hands or ropes around her wrists. A knife or spell always pushing for Helena’s breaking point, just to torment her further. Pain and disgust warring within her once she was left to lick her wounds. On the other, Kya’s mercy soothed her fears. The gentlest kiss to her chin, accompanied by a soft laugh and kind word. Tender hands cradling hers as cloth washed away the grime of battle. Always sweet. Always asking, offering more and more whilst Helena could only accept. Helena could do anything for her lover, except invite her touch in return.

“May I hold you?” Kya asked softly, allowing her arms to swish the water against Helena’s body to let the Mage know what she meant. Again, Kya did not punish her for her denial. Did not mistreat her or judge her. Kya understood those words had been difficult enough, allowed them to pass in favour of giving comfort. Helena gave a short nod, offering her consent. The shorter woman’s lithe arms slid around the Mage’s waist, delivering a gentle hug. Instantly, Helena’s hands dropped to hers, holding them firmly as if expecting pain. Sharp nails bit into Kya’s skin, forcing her to bite back a whimper.

“Are you alright? I can let you go if you need?” she questioned, her voice remaining as level as possible. She should have known. Should have realised Helena would fear feeling trapped. Helena might hold her, might explore every little inch of her skin, but it was always Helena in control. Helena’s power over her as she surrendered. Never like this. Never where she held Helena in her arms.

“Don’t. Just...” Helena pleaded, her voice a little sharper from her startled situation. Even then, Helena’s grip softened, fingertips rubbing apologetically over the indentations. Kya didn’t flinch. Instead, she shifted her fingers up, attempting to weave them through Helena’s in a comforting manner. The Mage seemed shocked, but didn’t object as both her hands clung to that intimate contact. The opposite hand threaded their fingers together, embracing the intimate gesture. The other clung lightly to Kya’s wrist, unable to completely surrender her sense of control.

“I love you.” Kya’s voice was a soft reminder. The woman tilted her head, shifting to deliver a gentle peck to Helena’s cheek to emphasise her words. One kiss became two, given Kya’s inability to pull away. Afterwards, the tip of her nose dragged against the soft curve of Helena’s cheek, nuzzling affectionately as Kya breathed in the scent of her lover. Of wet hair and magic, mixing with the finest soaps and the indescribably natural, perfect smell that was just Helena. Pale skin flushed rose at the contact. Then deep blue eyes blinked lazily, once again reminding Kya of a content cat.

“Can we stay like this for a moment, my love?”

“Let me sit and we can stay as long as you like.” Kya countered, gently tightening her arms for a moment in a reassuring squeeze. Her lips curled up into a delighted smile, one which could be described as goofy. Kya didn’t care how she looked, her chest expanded with warmth and light. Her blood bubbled, little puffs of joy igniting every single nerve in her body. Even relaxed, Kya’s entire being felt as if it were singing.

“A dangerous promise, my love.” Helena purred as she surrendered to the guidance, moving with Kya. It seemed to be instinct, to move together and yet never give up their closeness or trip each other. Perhaps Helena’s acute awareness served beyond the battlefield, Kya reasoned.  Afterall, the woman had fought at least ten men off and still noticed Kya’s form with a shield enough to give her clear directions. Once at the inbuilt seat of the basin, Kya dropped carefully, allowing her legs to float up around Helena’s hips. Once more, the Mage tensed, yet only for a moment before she lowered herself to sit between Kya’s legs.

Both women paused at the position, taking note of the new intimacy. Once, their positions had been reversed. Helena sitting behind her lover, whispering heated things in Kya’s ear as hands roamed. This time, Kya was the one with an armful of naked woman, and hands were certainly not going to roam without explicit permission.

Helena’s superior height left Kya with a mouthful of hair and shoulder, which was just a little too high for her to comfortably rest her chin on. Helena must have sensed this, given ho quickly she found a way to move. She shifted, bringing both of her legs up over one of Kya’s until her knees broke the surface of the water. Kya had to swallow back her emotions, bite back every compliment she wanted to pile on the gorgeous woman in her lap. Helena’s head tipped forwards, once again allowing her nose to burrow into the American’s neck, pressing to the pounding pulse. Their hands relocated, as Kya’s grip changed to Helena’s hip in order to support her. The Mage only briefly tensed at the unfamiliar touch, yet was soothed by a few simple rubs of Kya’s thumb over the bone. With a small cough, Kya shifted to wrap her nervously trembling arm around Helena’s back. Oddly enough, Helena didn’t feel any memories creeping up her spine, didn’t feel her muscles scream at her to retreat. She could not draw a situation like this to her memory. Never had the Queen cradled her so gently, or simply indulged in her presence. Whilst Kya’s hands were not in her control, and in a new place, it was almost like when the poor girl clung to her. Like when she was above and in control, or pulling Kya into her embrace.

“You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, Helena. I wish we could spend every day like this.” Kya finally whispered, tilting her head so that she could rest her cheek cautiously on Helena’s head. A small shiver worked through Helena’s body, yet it was not one of terror. Her cheeks flushed with delight, as if she were intoxicated on the girls presence. Unable to resist, the Mage pressed her lips to Kya’s neck. Warmth met her touch, along with a gentle throbbing pressure. She could feel Kya swallow, feel her pulse jumping rapidly. It was awe inspiring to Helena, that she could entice these reactions from the woman so effortlessly.

“You tease me, saying such things.” she commented back, only to feel the pressure on her head briefly grow, then retreat. As if Kya had shaken her head. Dark hair fell across her own, shadows and moonlight combined. It was remarkably cold, having someone else’s wet hair over her cheek. There was also an inexplicable weight behind it, pushing down in varying pressures. Tickling her upper lip. It was enough for Helena to lift her hand, moving the midnight mass over Kya’s shoulder.

“I’m serious, Helena. You haven’t heard enough about how wonderful you are. And this? Just us together, its peaceful. I love helping you relax.” Kya tenderly declared, her smile too pure for the world. Helena couldn’t help but bring her hands to Kya’s cheeks, even as she tilted her own head enough to press their lips together. Kissing. It was so unusual for the Mage, yet she couldn’t get enough of it. It always encouraged the strange tingling in her lips, matched in her stomach and cheeks. It made her feel lighter, especially at the subtly bitter taste of her lover. Helena never liked bitter, yet something about the delicate savory flavor of Kya was addictive.

“This is still new to me. I don’t always believe I deserve it, after everything I have done.” the Mage confessed once their lips parted. Every word she had heard from the retainers, everything she had been taught. It all echoed in her head. As if finding the moment her thoughts were quiet and invading. A thousand little soldiers each delivering their small cuts.

“You’re not an evil person, Helena. The Queen taught you to be merciless, tortured you for years. Despite that you showed mercy. To men who would kill you. To your enemy. That doesn’t mean I approve of all the horrible things you’ve done, but I know you’re more than what the Queen made you. I know you can be better. That you want to be. So does Lord Reiner.” Kya reminded her gently, shifting her hand from Helena’s hip. The girl’s fingers gently brushed against Helena’s cheek, gathering a wet strand of hair to tuck behind Helena’s ear. The gesture was sweet, offered with a serious look in Kya’s eye. Even when she admitted disappointment and disapproval, Kya’s gaze was loving. Kya’s love was not dependent on success or failure, Helena was coming to realize. Kya loved HER. Not her magic, not her uncanny ability to kill. Not her ability to please. Just... her.

“And now I must fight against -“

“The woman who abused you. I’m here, Helena. You’re so strong. You can help beat the Queen, you can face her. Even if it hurts, I’m here. I’ll always be here. I’m yours, Helena Klein.” Kya combated, giving her declaration so gently it brought tears to Helena’s eyes. This time, the Mage did not resist, allowing them to silently fall against Kya’s flesh as her head bowed. Her shoulders shook with silent sobs, yet Kya did not give voice to the fact Helena broke. Instead, a gentle hand stroked up and down the war scarred shoulders. Caressing every bad memory and imperfection, tenderly tracing the bones of her spine within acceptable reach. Kya’s touch aimed to draw the tension away, a silent reassurance that was as powerful as her scent.

“Its ok, Helena. Let it out.” Kya soothed, although her voice was a distant comfort for Helena. The Mage sobbed, sniffling and whimpering as the pain washed over her. Physical pain she could handle. She had suffered enough that it was a familiar companion. The only thing she had truly felt for years. The loving caress down her back was an anchor, a constant that allowed her mind to drift. Kya would protect her. Kya, her sweet, merciful love. The guardian of her heart.

The water had begun to cool by the time Helena’s tears ran dry, fading into shallow breaths against her lover’s neck. Though quiet, Helena’s sobs had drained her of all energy, leaving her almost boneless in Kya’s lap. The smaller girl’s arms remained wrapped around Helena, cuddling the slumbering woman as close as possible. Kya’s cheek rested atop Helena’s head, her petite nose buried in golden fields of hair. The scent of flowers mixed with Helena’s natural fragrance, a smell which made every blink slower. Every time Kya’s eyelids dropped, they felt heavier, even as memories of kinder times danced through her mind. Desires and fantasies collided, making way to gentle dreams that drew a smile to her lips.

“-If I were in my world, would she want to live with me? Would a dingey little apartment be enough? Would we be the couple with a cat?-“ Kya’s silent questions brought a crease to her brow. Helena was beautiful enough to be a model, one strutting down the runways of Paris. Perhaps an actress, seducing the hearts of America with her breathtaking smile and perfect eyes. Kya could picture it, the way Helena could appear so enticing and dangerous at the same time.

“-They’d want her in a playboy magazine-“

that thought earned a small huff. Even in her imagination, jealousy flared at the thought of anybody getting to see Helena in that light. In anybody seeing those smiles reserved for the most private moments, or seeing the tender vulnerability Helena was capable of.

“My Ladies? Lord Wolfson requires your attendance in the dining hall.” Solaire’s voice roused Kya faster than a dose of cold water. Instantly she tensed, yet she forced herself to remain still. Helena’s gentle breaths against her continued, a blast of heat followed by the sharpest chill. Even as Kya shivered, she lifted her head, fixing the Faerie who had entered with a silent glare.

“Shh! Helena’s asleep!” Kya scolded quietly. Her glare only remained for a few more moments before an apologetic smile fixed itself upon her lips. Kya wasn’t truly offended by Solaire’s presence, yet she knew Helena absolutely would be. Fortunately, the Mage continued to slumber, only giving a small whimper of malcontent when Kya shifted .

“My apologies, Lady Kya...” Solaire trailed off, her icy eyes widening a little as she stared at the scene before her. If someone had told the Faerie that she would see the fearsome Helena Klein sleeping in her lover’s arms, Solaire would have likely not believed them. Now, after all the had seen, it was almost a pity to spoil such a moment. She quickly lowered her gaze, noting the flush that touched Kya’s cheek, only to notice the silvery lines beneath white gold locks. A gasp escaped the maid before she could stifle it, earning a rather harsh look from the otherworldly lady.

“Its just Kya, I’m not a lady and... What?” Kya almost demanded. Her arm tightened around Helena, almost as if the gesture alone could shield the Mage.

“Forgive me, I did not mean to pry. It is just I have not seen such scars on prisoners of the Queen, let alone her most faithful.”

“The Queen found it more fun to torment Helena, and she had more time to do it.” Kya informed softly, a saddened sigh escaping her. Flintstone eyes grew softer as Kya lowered her gaze to Helena, followed by a tender kiss to the Mage’s temple. Helena mumbled softly and snuggled closer, yet she did not wake.

“I did not realize the extent of her cruelty to those closest to her. If I may, I also did not realize how soft Gener- Helena could look.”

“Its not just looks. Can I have a few more minutes? She deserves as much downtime as she can get.”

“Of course, My lady. I’ll delay as long as possible.” the Faerie agreed, bowing her head once more before she rushed off. She hurried away in a storm of orange fabrics, likely returning to the kitchens.

Once alone again, Kya sighed, turning her focus towards Helena. For a few moments, Kya considered waking the Sorceress. She tried to guess just how long it would take to be ready for such a feast, what might be asked of them. Kya knew that despite the Retainer’s mercy, they would still be hostile to Helena. She knew the war had grown tensions, and that even the servants might have ill intent towards her love. After a minute, she calmly laid her cheek to Helena’s head, basking in the close contact.

She could handle being late. She could handle being considered rude, or accused of sleeping in. Everything that might be thrown their way, Kya was more than prepared to weather.

Helena deserved a moment of peace.

Despite All This, I still love you 24

Because ao3 decided to publish chapters a number ahead that means chapter 24 here is chapter 25 so technically speaking, this is the chapter that I have sorta been lowkey teasing for  a while. Hope y’all enjoy it regardless.. :)

Upon their return to Shady Belle, Grimshaw had forced Nora back to her corner to continue resting and wouldn't allow her to be sat alone without any supervision from one of the gang members for fear of her deciding to sneak away again. Nora didn't mind the company when it wasn't Bill or Micah but the days where they were forced to accompany her were one of the worse days of her life.

But after a few days of constant rest she was back to the old Nora they all grew to adore, walking fine and functioning free of any stiff movements. She still had a few scrapes here and there from that unfortunate night that wasn't completely healed but the stinging was manageable.

“Do you really have to go?” Mary-Beth asked as she followed behind the two as they prepared the horses for leaving. Lem's own horse was more than happy to finally leave Shady Belle but Branwen, who Charles asked Nora to take with her, did not want to leave so soon without his owner.

“Unfortunately, I have too.” Nora turned towards Mary-Beth and gave her a sympathetic smile. “Cripps has been left with my brothers for a bit too long, which is never a good sign.”

“Well ride safe, Nora… and don't get yourself caught by any O'Driscoll's again, please.” Nora chuckled at Mary-Beth's words and waved goodbye as she walked back down towards the house. When the other girl was gone did Nora finally turn towards Lem and Charles to help them with the stubborn horse.

“I don't think beggin' the poor creature is gonna help, Lemuel.” She joked, leaning against one of the hitching stations.

“It worked with Casper.”

“But Casper likes you, Branwen hardly knows anyone who isn't Kieran.”

“What do suggest we do then?” He sighed.

“Just be gentle.” Nora approached the stallion and gently placed her palm flat against the horse's muzzle. She half expected the horse to pull away but instead he only leaned further into her palm and let out a huff of air.

“He likes you,” Charles said.

“Most things do.” Lem returned before whistling his horse over. He looked at Nora for a moment and this sad look washed over his face, something that Charles raised an eyebrow to when he acknowledged it.

“Reckon he'll let you ride him?”

Nora looked over at the men and shrugged slowly before walking around to the horse's side. She would pat him a couple of times before mounting up and waiting for the horse to buck her off but he had accepted the new rider with no problems and Nora let out a long celebratory cheer.

“We have an answer.” She answered. With his job practically finished, Charles left the two of them and all that was left was for them both to leave but Nora was hesitant in doing just that.

“You're gonna be fine, Nora.” Lem called and she agreed, although rather reluctantly.

“Come on, when we get back I'll have Cripps make you a ‘Cripps special stew’ how's that sound?”

“Sounds lovely.”

“Come on then.”

...

“She's alive!” JB Cripps cheered the minute he spotted Nora coming in and she smiled towards him

“Hello, Cripps.” The older man ran towards the pair and Nora was barely off of her horse before he had pulled her in for a hug, very happy to finally have her back. Harry and James even rushed over and praised Lem for keeping her safe, which was very out of character for the brothers to do.

“Glad to see those two ain't killed each other yet.” Nora pointed at her brothers as they stood with their arms crossed near the group's tents.

“They came close. Poor Maggie Fike had to help with that.”

“What was so bad that you needed to get help for?”

“They had a knife fight in Valentine, nothin' too serious fortunately but I had to get Maggie and Marcel to pull themselves from each other.”

Lem gave Cripps a quizzical look, a bit curious to see how on earth Maggie, his aunt, was able to pull anyone off of someone with how bad of a state she was in. “How exactly did Maggie do that?”

“She didn't exactly separate the brothers, but she did almost shoot one of them with her cane.”

“Sounds about right,” Lem said before leaving Nora and Cripps to enter the groups camp.

“How are Maggie and Marcel anyway?”

Cripps wanted to mention how little hope Miss Fike had for Nora's return but chose that such a topic shouldn't be brought up and kept amongst the adults, but he forced a kind look and patted her shoulder. “They're good. Missin' you so you should go visit them soon.”

“I had plans too anyway.”

“Well, I won't keep you too long, it's great havin' you back though.” With that, Cripps left Nora to stand alone and instead of her brother's greeting her just as Cripps had done they simply regarded her with a subtle nod before leaving.

The only person Nora did enjoy talking too was Lem but he looked like he didn't want to be bothered any longer, sat at the campfire with a big frown on his face and so she only did the next best thing she could do, walk to her own tent and read a book for a few hours until something interesting was brought up for her to do.

...

“Hey, Maggie has a request for you.” Lem leaned into her tent, his hand planted on the rod that held the opening up and she smiled at the news of being needed for work so soon. Honestly, she was happy to finally be back on her feet so soon.

“Lovely,” Nora said in response, pulling herself from the cot and walking with Lem in tow over towards the horses. Casper let out a whinny when he saw Nora approach and she felt this surge of happiness well up inside her just from being reunited with her beloved horse.

“You may need this too.” She turned around and in his hand was the same schofield revolver he had gifted her before, the one she thought to be lost when those O'Driscoll's attacked her.

“God I got so upset when I dropped this.” She exclaimed as she took the weapon from his hands and holstered it. “It's a gun but damn it means a lot to me.”

“Does it?”

Nora nodded. “Of course it does, my best friend got it me.”

Lem's face only sank at her kindness and he looked away to hide the shame. She arched an eyebrow at the reaction and opened her mouth to ask him what was wrong but Lem only let out a long breath of air before saying his farewells and leaving her to get on with that business his aunt had prepared.

Nora watched as he walked away, turning towards Casper and shrugging as if the horse had asked what his problem was before mounting up herself. If he was in a better mood later she would ask him about it then, at least, if he was willing to talk.

...

The smell of berries and smoke from the basement was a pleasant surprise as she entered the shack. She welcomed it with a fond smile, lingering above the staircase just so she could continue smelling it longer.

“Nora, it's nice to see you alive and in one piece.” Maggie stood in the doorway, her cane held in front of her as she leaned against the doorway. Nora gasped in surprise and recoiled from the bannister, looking over at Maggie with a slightly annoyed expression.

“Y-Yeah, don't gotta scare me though.”

Maggie chuckled and turned around, hobbling back inside the room and expecting Nora to follow her. “I got an easy task for you since you've just come off of bed rest from what my nephew told me.”

“How easy?”

“If you can taint stills without gettin' caught, then easy. Sneakin' in and out'll be challenging though.”

Nora nodded as she took a sealed envelope from Maggie's hands that she handed over. “Lem asked me to give you this. Told me to tell you to not open it, at least, not until after you soured the rivals batch.”

“Why couldn't he hand it to me himself?” She asked as she tucked it away in her satchel, patting the bag gently following.

“I don't know.” Maggie walked around the desk and took a seat in the usual spot, giving Nora a proud grin as she leaned forward. “Fortunately for you, the rivals ain't too far.”

“Where too?”

“Butcher's creek.. nothin' you ain't dealt with before.” Nora nodded and headed for the door, pushing it open but not getting too far out before Maggie had called her back. She leaned into the room but was still halfway in the process of leaving, waiting for Maggie to say what she needed to add. “It's great to have you back, Nora. Didn't doubt you returning for a second.”

“It's great to be back, Miss Fike.”

...

She couldn't recall stealth ever being this hard or herself being this rusty at anything ever before, perhaps it was the time she had spent away from any action that faltered her skill or maybe she was just not good as what she previously thought.

“D'you hear somethin'?” One person asked once she took a step too far forward, snapping a twig. Nora gasped and quickly hid amongst the bushes and crates, praying the shadows concealed her enough as the guards came to investigate the noise.

“You were probably hearin' things again, Lyle.” Another replied but the one she alerted still looked around the area suspiciously.

“I don't know… seemed too real.”

“How the fuck-” The other guard let out a long groan and Nora found amusement in the frustrations she could relate too from living with her brothers. “you know what, I ain't dealin' with you today.”

“Whatever,” Lyle replied. He had inspected the area as best as he could and still missed Nora hiding there, walking away in annoyance with the false acceptance of his friend being right.

From what she could see there was only one vat set up which meant that as soon as the guards were gone she could sneak over, taint it and run; in and out. It seemed simple but they were not moving and Nora did not want to deal with killing two guys all at once, with her brothers this job would be a lot easier and she wondered why she didn't ask them to accompany her.

She lost count of how long she had been sitting there but eventually, one guy did walk away and from behind it looked like that ‘Lyle’ fella who had almost caught her earlier and so when he was far enough away she crept over, keeping an eye on the last guard who had his back to her and briskly poured in the mixture Maggie had concocted. Now, she just needed to get out of there.

She backed away, keeping her eyes glued onto the guard and when she felt she was far enough away she whistled for her horse. Unfortunately, it did alert some more people who were in proximity but they assumed it to be someone whistling while on the job and they chose to pay it no mind.

She couldn't mount up and gallop away, that would most definitely bring over some curious people but Casper was a good horse who followed his owner closely. There were a few huffs here and there and the one whinny but they were able to sneak far enough away from Butcher's Creek for her to pull herself back into the saddle and allow the horse to take her away.

“Let's go home, Casper.” She said, patting the horse's neck and urging him forward in a gentle trot. With the slow pace they moved at, she reached into her satchel and pulled free that envelope Lem had his aunt pass on. It was a little crumpled from being tucked away but wasn't ruined too badly and using her hunting knife she tore it open to pull out the letter.

When she read the note her heart sank and she could not believe the words penned on the paper. She had to pull on Casper's reins to get him to stop moving, still struggling to process what he couldn't talk to her about in person. A stray tear rolled down her cheek and she let out a sob once it all kicked in. Nora didn't cry when the O'Driscoll's attacked but what Lem had said did get to her.

“I still… I still have time.” She said softly, amidst the tears and spurred Casper into a gallop, diverting the route to Emerald Station where she presumed him to be. Maggie couldn't travel too far and that train station was the nearest to their moonshine shack, so it would have been the only logical spot they could go.

...

Her suspicions were confirmed when she saw Marcel helping Maggie onto a train carriage, Lem standing behind them with that same sullen face from earlier with Cripps only a few feet away. He was the first to spot her and the guilt kicked in the minute the recognition kicked in, but he couldn't bring himself to apologise; Nora didn't stay long enough to let him as she dismounted and ran to Lem's side.

“Lemuel!” She called and he froze in place. Maggie gave Marcel an awkward glance before having him move faster inside, not wanting to deal with this situation or be caught up in it.

“What's goin' on, Lem?” She asked but the male didn't answer, he only forced himself to finally turn around and face her and the consequences he brought upon himself from keeping as big a secret like this from his best friend.

“I-” All words were lost in that moment and he found himself incapable of offering an explanation even though she so desperately sought one.

“Nora, I gotta go.” He tried to deflect the situation itself and worm away but Nora didn't him too, she needed him more than either realised.

“Lem, you can't go- not yet.” Lem turned behind and looked as though he was contemplating something in those moments before he let out one final sigh, his decision had been made and he wasn't sure when an opportunity like this would arise again.

He dropped the suitcase to the ground and his hand moved to cup her cheek, his thumb wiping away some of the tears that began to fall.

Lem's head tilted softly to the side before he finally leaned in, closing any space between them as he finally caught her in a kiss and her arms froze awkwardly by her side, unsure of what to do with them or what to do with herself in this situation. But this was something Nora had wanted to do for oh so long and when he finally initiated it she didn't want to lose it, so gently she kissed back.

Minutes that felt like hours passed by before Lem did eventually pull away, his hand still on her cheek and now his forehead resting against hers. “I'll be back eventually, Nora. But there's s-something that I need to do first, that Maggie needs me for.”

“I wouldn't be upset if you told me what it is.” She whispered and Lem looked just as upset when she said this. He wanted to explain himself, but Maggie had given him strict orders not too, not even he knew the full extent of the reasons for their leaving.

“I have to go.” He didn't stick around too long, gathering what he had and pulling away from the girl. She stood there on the platform, watching as he boarded the train carriage and when he was finally inside and at the seats where his aunt was, did he look up and wave goodbye, still waving as the train pulled away.

The train was long gone as well as any sign of the Fike's but she still stood on that platform, holding onto those final moments shared Lem. Not willing to let them go.

“How long did you know?” She asked Cripps as she felt him creeping up behind her and he stopped dead in his tracks at the hurt in her voice, it feeling like a shot to the heart.

“Maggie asked me a couple of days ago, but they been planning this for a while now.”

“Christ, It's stupid of me to be upset over this isn't it?”

“Not at all.” Cripps placed a hand against her shoulder and gently squeezed it. “I was upset when Maggie an' I didn't get married.”

“You walked out on that, that was your fault.”

Cripps nodded slowly. “I know, was jus' trying to be helpful.”

“It helped a little.” She sighed.

“Come on, let's go home.” Cripps pulled his hand away and walked over to the wagon he drove over, leaving her to join him or ride back by herself when she was ready.

She stood for a minute longer before dragging herself over to the wagon, taking Cripps' hand as he helped her up. Casper was left untethered but she still whistled regardless so he could follow behind them.

“Cheer up, Nora. Maggie can't stay away for too long so they're gonna be back eventually... just gotta be patient.”