#Anyway *looks away* I didn't want this one to be very polished | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

oh-koenig-my-koenig · 3 months

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painting his nails

(cw: age gap 25/41, size difference; talking about König's occupation being a soldier, scars from his injuries, military stuff; tickling, smut, nsfw, mdni)

part before: waking up in his bed

“Hold still.”

“This is much more tedious and annoying than I thought it would be.”

I swipe at his lower lash line again, leaving more eyeshadow there. He is blinking excessively, his eyes watering.

“You’re a big baby.”, I tell him, wiping some of the excess away that fell onto his cheekbones.

He shoots me a look. “I just wanted you to paint my nails.”, he grumbles. When he asked me if I could bring some nail polish to paint his nails (black, of course), I was surprised at first. He always wanted to try it, but he didn’t know how to do it properly, so it looked like shit when he did it himself (his words). And I was more than happy to oblige, and then some.

“I got distracted.”, I defend myself. I couldn’t resist coaxing him into putting on some smudgy eyeliner because I knew it would look hot on him. And of course, I am right. I hand him the make-up compact that has a little mirror.

“I look like I didn’t wash off my eyeblack properly.”, he mumbles, critically eyeing the make-up in the reflective material.

“What’s that?”, I ask.

“It’s uh- like black grease paint? Body paint? For like the eye area that still shows in balaclavas.”, he explains.

“Oh, I see.”, I say, getting the gist of it, but still wondering why that was necessary. I tuck that information away for later, to maybe look it up myself, as I open up the little flask of nail polish.

I take his hand in mine and like every single time I’m astounded by the size difference. Yes, he’s like two heads taller than me and over twice my weight. And I don’t think I’m that small. But compared to him I feel tiny. Like right now with his hand splayed out on my thigh while I paint his nails.

I admire the tattoos on his hands, while I paint the first nail. I always try to not pay attention to the parts of his skin that are disturbed by cuts and scars, because they remind me of how he got them. That his work isn’t some kind of accountant desk job. His comment about the eyeblack showed that as well. How different his frame of reference is from mine, even when it comes to small details like that. And how I still don’t know that much about him.

The questions swirl in the forefront of my mind, unsure of how to phrase them, until I finally start to speak. "What's your work like?", I ask carefully. "What... are you like at work?”

He just shakes his head, avoiding eye contact. "I don't..." Opening his mouth, hesitant to say something more.

"I'm sorry, I just- Sorry for being nosy again, just forget about it.", I deflect, painting his middlefinger’s nail next, my eyes darting up to him, smiling apologetically.

He shakes his head again, this time more like to himself. "No, it's okay. I understand.", he says, the smile struggling to form on his face, the emotions in his eyes illegible to me. "I just don't think that you would like me very much at work."

"I don't believe that.", I say softly, even though I’m not so sure myself, with the way he said it. But I couldn’t leave his comment that seemed like a jab at himself like that.

He scoffs. "You'd probably run away screaming if you saw me in my get-up alone.", he grumbles. And I get it. A 6'10'' 300 pounds hulk of a man in full tactical gear sounds scary. Most of the time, I think he would want people to cower when they see him. But there surely also had to be situations where he didn't want to come off as intimidating, but he still might. Like with me.

"You got a picture?", I ask, carefully, adding quickly: "Uh, you don't have to show me though, of course."

At first, he just looks at me, then he sighs and reaches for his phone. "Maybe… I have to look for one.", he mumbles, scrolling on the little screen.

It doesn't take long, and he finds one. I can tell by the way his brows furrow in discontent, but he turns the device to me anyway. It doesn't have the best quality, yet my eyes scan every little bit of it.

He’s huge, duh. Dressed in tactical gear. Protectors on his shins and forearms. A bulletproof vest. Beige cargo pants. A helmet on his head. A rifle in his hands, but don't ask me what kind, because I have no fucking clue.

And he does look scary and intimidating, for sure.

The most surprising part is the mask on his face, not one of those usual masks you would see, but a hood that looks – selfmade? From a shirt or something similar, hiding his whole head and his neck, almost falling down to his chest. There are stains on the front, reddish streaks right under the eyeholes.

My eyes shoot up to look at him, the question on the tip of my tongue. “The mask?”

He shrugs. “Most of the guys at work wear one. And I have worn a similar thing, ever since I wanted to become a sniper. They didn’t let me join the squad because I was too big for that.”, he explains, and I can feel that there is more to the story than he lets on. “I used to wear some type of mask whenever I went outside. Even when I was on leave. But I don’t do that anymore.”, he adds on.

“I see.”, is all I say, my eyes still scanning the pic. Trying to connect his two faces in my mind.

The man I see on the picture is so different from the one whose lap I’m currently sitting on. But I can see bits of both of them, right here before me and also on the screen. Like the band of red beads around his wrist. The big burly stature, dressed in dark clothing. The certain attitude that shows in his posture. The broader than life stance mirrored in the way he’s sitting on the couch.

“My Oma always hated the mask thing, but then again, she didn’t like me joining the military anyway.”, he says then. ('grandma')

“Because?”, I ask curiously, continuing to paint his nails.

He shrugs. “I mean, I understand it, I- it’s difficult to explain. With Austria’s past and what my grandma knew of war… I understand why she wasn’t thrilled that I wanted to become a soldier. As a career.”, he explains, putting the phone away again.

“Oh, right, I didn’t think about that.”, I say, squeezing his fingers lightly, while I move to his other hand, pulling it onto my thigh. His fingertips dig into the softness, as I start to paint his left thumb.

“Yeah... That was probably the only time we ever really argued. About my work.”, he says, his voice calmer than the look in his eyes.

“How did you even know you wanted to be a soldier?”, I ask him then.

“How did you know what you wanted to do?”, he asks back.

“I don’t know, I was kinda good at it and it paid money.”, I say, shrugging my shoulders.

“Exactly. I was in compulsory military service and when we ran drills for the first time… it just made sense, it clicked. The simplicity of it. The structure.” He stops talking for a second, like the list could go on, but something’s keeping him from listing it off. I’m not interjecting, just listening.

“And the prospect of even getting paid for it long term kind of sealed the deal.”, he says instead. “The sniper thing didn’t work out, but somebody of my height and build… well, it took me far as a specialist to break into things. Got out of Austria pretty quickly. And at that time, I also started to use König as a name.”

I perk up when he drops that last bit of information. “I thought that that can't be your real name.”, I smile up at him, before I look down again to make sure none of the colour spills.

He laughs a bit, but it's not a happy laugh. “Yeah, I went through some stuff.”, he says, kinda flatly, and then he sighs. “Got over the need to constantly hide my face, even when I'm not working. But König stuck. Must have quite the ego to call yourself king, hm.”

I’m surprised at the little self-deprecating stab. Well, I guess, his ego fits his stature, but… “I never thought that your ego was overinflated.”, I simply say. Silence falls over us, for just a moment.

“You're not gonna ask about my real name?”, he asks then, the tone in voice unreadable.

I stop my movements, looking up at him. “I might be nosy, but I feel like I already asked too many questions today.”, I answer, a serious expression on my face, needing him to see that I’m being genuine about this: “And I know a boundary when I see one.”

“Right, sorry, I didn't mean to imply-“, he says, breaking off in a curse.

“Don't worry.” I press a quick kiss to his lips, to shut him up. “I don't need to know your ‘real name’ to…” I stop for a moment, trying to find the right thing to say. “If you ever decide to tell me, that's fine, and if you don’t, that's fine too. Okay?”

He nods, the little smile on his face as he looks down at me finally seeming genuine again. “Okay.”

I would have never known that the simple act of painting his nails could be this intimate. But I guess, our closeness, how I’m sitting on his lap, music softly playing in the background – I think, he put on some Pink Floyd Best Of vinyl. The repetitive act of painting nail by nail, picking up colour with the little brush and then coating them carefully. The warmth of his hand on my thigh. His voice filling the space around us, as he tells me about his work. At least the parts he wants to tell me. And I’m soaking everything up, learning more about the man. The man whose real name I might never know.

I can feel how careful he’s being with how he's wording things. Holding himself back a few times. Like he's afraid about telling too much. I'm not naive. I don't know the exact details, but I still know what he does for a living.

I get that the soft version he is with me isn't his default setting. And I know that he is trying so hard right now, not letting that other side shine through too much, because I might see him differently then, while still giving me bits and pieces of himself.

I admire my paint job, the black nails fitting the rest of his left hand. DIE in big bold letters on his knuckles, the lettering pulling up into the skull that spans the back of his hand. The cold dead tree that adorns the inside of his arm sprouts its roots in the eyeholes.

His palm still rests on my thigh, his fingertips softly digging into my skin, like he is holding on.

“You’re done.”, I tell him then. He lifts his giant hands to look at them as well, a grin stalking onto his face, and I miss the warmth of his touch already.

“Thanks.”, he says and presses an almost chaste kiss to my lips.

“You’re very welcome. Even though I needed to use half the nail polish to have enough for your plate-sized nails.”, I comment tongue-in-cheek.

“I’m gonna buy you a new bottle.”, he answers simply.

“Oh, don’t worry about it.”, I wave it off.

“And? How do I look?”, he asks, almost striking a pose.

“Good.”, I answer, grinning at him. “Real goth.”, I add jokingly, and we laugh a bit.

I lean against him, my fingers tangle in his shirt, and silence falls over us. He presses me against his chest, his arms wrapped around me. His cheek nuzzling the top of my head. I feel how he’s moving, like he wants to start to speak. Like he is looking for the right words.

“I hope you’re not afraid of me.”, he finally says, mumbled into my hair, so quiet I almost can’t understand him at first.

“I’m not.”, I simply say, knowing that a more elaborate answer wouldn't have convinced him any more. Snuggling into him even, my cheek pressing against the soft pillow of his chest, the palm of my hands caressing over his back. Holding him for a moment.

I pull back a bit, to look up at him, not letting him hide away in my hair any longer. “Uh, btw…”, I start, trying to hide the giggles that want to escape me.

"What?", he asks as he sees the sparkle in my eyes.

"Did I ever tell you that I have a mask kink?", I say, fully grinning from one cheek to another, which pulls a little laugh from him.

“Of course you do, Fräulein.”, he says, but I can see the heat in his gaze, as he quips: “I’ve seen the bands you listen to.”

I playfully smack his bicep. “Rude!”

He just laughs again, grabbing me and pulling me into him again.

“Nooo, your nails are not even dry!”, I wail, giggling, as he peppers kisses all over my neck. I try to escape his grasp, to escape his tickling touches, but it’s like fighting against iron restraints. When he lets go of me, I reprimand him for messing up his nails, and paint those again where some colour came off.

He makes sure to apologize properly, carrying me up to the bedroom, where he strips me naked and sets me on top of his face, telling me to ride it. His hands grab my thighs, letting me admire how good his hands look like that, with the tattoos and the freshly painted nails.

I’m sitting on his face, properly sitting on it, because he wouldn’t accept it any other way. “If I go out like this, so be it. Now, please, sit on my fucking face.”, he rather orders than begs.

His mouth, hot and warm against my wet pussy, is working me tirelessly. His hands steering the pace of my hips that grind against his lower face. His fingers toying with my holes, while he sucks on my clit.

He doesn’t stop until he’s satisfied and his face sufficiently soaked with my juices. He lifts me off his mouth and onto his dick – after getting a condom, of course. I sink down around him, relaxed and so wet, until I’m seated on his lap, his cock filling me to the brim.

I chuckle as I look back and see how his eyes are fixed on my ass, watching it move up and down his length, my pussy swallowing him up, again and again and again. His mouth fell open a little, and it almost seems like there isn’t anything on his mind right now, other than me fucking him reverse cowgirl, with a prime seat for looking at my butt.

“You wanna take a picture? It’ll last longer.”, I taunt him, lifting myself from his lap slowly, making sure he sees every inch slipping out of me.

His eyes snap up to my face, a clear ‘watch it’ written on his expression, until his slack jaw turns into a smirk. He leans forward, catching my wrists and securing them behind my back, with just one hand. My back arches as he jerks me down onto his cock, my asscheeks hitting his groin in a slap. My mouth forms to an O, a moan being pulled from my lips.

“You were saying? Hmm?”, he teases me, pressing kisses to my neck that send shivers down my spine. The little ‘hmm’ a soft growl.

“Nothing.”, I breathe, my eyes rolling back as he starts to fuck me like this. Fucking up into me, his tip hitting me deep in this position, pushing up against my cervix. The intense sensations have me screaming, pulsing around his dick.

And when it would be time to pack my stuff and go home after spending the whole weekend together because I have to work tomorrow, I just don’t. It’s late already, so I stay another night, sleeping next to him in his bed, like I did the past two days. Using him as my personal heater because that huge burly man gives off more heat than any radiator would, and it’s impossible to flee his grasp.

next part: on the phone with👑 or more stuff in the Masterlist ~

a/n: this chapter has been brewing for a long time (it was the second scene i ever started, i think) and there's a lot of stuff in there that keeps rumbling around my head when it comes to könig in general and mh!k specifically some of it is canon-diverging headcanons about how he came to be a soldier (you realistically can't really join the austrian military before 18), what that must have meant to him and the people who were close to him, especially his grandma, who was the most important person in his life (also in the context of austria's past) mh!k is a much more toned down now at his age, better adjusted, not the much wilder younger version; he still very much is a König, but he got better over time at not letting his work dictate his every minute, especially when he is on leave he doesn't have the best image of himself, because he knows how he is, how he can be and what he has done, while at the same time being just fine with it all the same, because that's just who he is with reader, it's a little bit of a different topic, because he kind of doesn't want her to see him that way while he also understands her curiosity you see, lots of thoughts xD anyway, thanks for reading <3

#metalhead!könig #she likes the dark #könig #könig cod #könig mw2 #konig #konig cod #konig mw2 #könig fanfiction #cod mw2 smut #könig smut #konig smut #cod smut #könig x reader #tw: age gap

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blue-sterling0357 · 1 year

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how about some ciel headcanons with a demon s/o? not with angst, like s/o is a young chaos demon that just squeezed themselves on the contract so s/o helps ciel with his work and so.

🐈‍⬛ anon

(I remember a very similar thing of demon! Ciel with a albino! demon! S/O, it's quite cute, but I'm not adding it here! Hope you enjoy reading this!)

Ciel with a Demon! S/O

✣ You met Ciel, when Sebastian introduced you both to each other. Sebastian was an elder demon who used to follow you since he met you because he had this instinct to follow you, no matter what you do and he was right as you being a chaos demon happens to be quite harming to his contracts...

✣ Whenever you would get even a hundred mile near the person he has a contract with, they would get in some type of wierd situation, but he enjoys your company even though he hates all demons, except you as you're quite helpful and you knew how to protect his masters and wouldn't be salavting over his master's soul, like he though you would.

✣ So, upon his introducing you, Ciel took you in as one of his maids and upon taking you in, he noticed the immediate change it had on the manor, the trio would cause less problems for him, Sebastian's cats aren't shoing up as often, the place is often clean and Elizabeth ins't decorating it in embarrasing yet cute decor he hates so much.

✣ As he slowly developed feelings and you both started dating, he got to learn about you being a chaos demon, he learnt how Sebastian would protect him from you accidentally bringing chaos everywhere you go, but he doesn't care as you bringing chaos isn't going to change his loves for you.

✣ He is actually quite happy you're a demon, it's because he knows you won't die and it definitely won't be easy to kill, with Sebastian polishing your skills and helping you and though you're younger and around Ciel's age in demon years, you're a fast learner, except sometimes in battles you zone out, but are still fighting and dodging your enemy amazingly except you're staring into nothing...It concerns both Ciel and Sebastian as is this even normal?

✣ Ciel now has another protector, also since you eat the souls of certain people who try to attack Ciel and have a tasty soul, you're rather full and have no need of eating Ciel's soul. If it's Sebastian who kills the perpetrator, he will bring those souls to you, but only if they are high quality souls, he refuses to have his child/sibling/problem child figure have low quality and disgusting souls..

✣ Ciel allows you wayyyy more freedom than he allows Sebastian, like you have brought in three, white tigers in the manor, and Ciel didn't even care, he was also wearing a mask, did those even exist back then? But anyways, Seb is jealous at the amount of freedom you have, except it goes away when you invite him to cuddle with those three, adult, white tigers.

✣ Also, you're just as talented in things as Sebastian despite being at such a young age like you already know 21 languages, can manipulate anyone you want, great st using multiple weapons at the same time, fighting and dodging while drinking a smoothie or eating a cake at the same time. And even though Sebastian says it's because of him, Ciel doesn't believe him because he believes you're just amazing like that!

✣ If you're happy with showing him your horns and wings on occasions, he would love to groom them, clean them, wash them and polish them nicely for you and he does it so often, he knows everything about demon self-care, you'd look all shiny and whenever you and Sebastian show each-other your wings and horns, he's surprised at how clean they are, despite knowing how you don't clean regularly...

✣ Oh, speaking of wings, he loves to cuddle you and sleep with you while you have your wings out, he gets all whiny and upset if you refuse to show them to him when you go to sleep because they're dirty or smell or whatever because you know he will drag you to clean them no matter how late at night it is, cause he now can't sleep without stroking, touching or cuddling your wings..Have fun!

✣ Overall, he doesn't really care, but he's less possessive because he knows demons don't fall for just anyone they meet, only special chosen one, so you won't fall for anybody else and because he knows you won't die during a stupid assassin!

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hopelesslyromanticshark · 2 months

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hi lovely ! 💗

first of all ur writing has me giggling at my screen n shit midday it’s so cutesie ily

second of all i was wondering if you would ever write jason hcs w a daughter of aphrodite reader? (like obv we got him and piper in the books but i’m talking girl mathing, lip gloss wearing, passenger princessing, puts the ‘lover’ in lovergirling type daughter of aphrodite)

all this to say that i love everything u put out sm and if this request doesn’t inspire u no pressure to do it !!

⋆⭒˚.⋆ jason grace x daughter of aphrodite! reader hcs

content: jason grace x daughter of aphrodite! reader warning: sexual references near the bottom and probs some cursing author's note: as much as i love piper and i understand why you wouldn't make her the stereotypical daughter of aphrodite and i have no problems with that, we were robbed. at least we had selena but still bro give me a lover girl who is forced out of being softed bc truama. can i have that??? is that too much to ask for??? just a girl who lost all her girlhood the moment the person she loved died?? bc the one thing she was supposed to stand for still didn't stop death?? if she loved and still lost, what is the point of loving at all?? give me this complex character pls and thx ALSO if you are the same anon i think you are, please love me bc you clearly have a bigger brain than me and youre so sweet like girl honey bunny you have so many good ideas and you keep trusting me to make them happen??? like thank you???

soft boy meets soft girl and they fall in love?????

ummmm yes pls!!

when i tell you these two are literally the definition of soft

look it up if you doubt me

there's literally a picture of them together in the websters dictionary under soft pls

trust me bro i was the printer that printed that page

anyways, when i tell you cute meet cute, i mean it

like, you left jason love letters taped to his cabin door, pretending to be a secret admirer

jason was a blushing flustered mess every time he found one

and then, one evening, he was spending it inside his cabin reading when he heard footsteps approach the door.

it piqued his interest causing him to walk towards the door and wait for a moment.

then a slip of paper slid under the door of his cabin, the now familiar pink glitter gel pen handwriting being a welcome sight

without a second to lose, he whipped the door open to reveal you, crouching down near the door of his cabin

it took you a second to register what happened before you swallowed thickly, raising your hand slightly and waving it

"...hi."

"i think you dropped this," jason replied, coughing away his nerves as he held up the paper, the pink pen glittering in the sunlight

"oh...uh, no, i...i did that on purpose, yeah," you mutter back, hanging your head and beginning to chip at your pink nail polish

"oh."

"yeah."

cue the very awkward silence for a few moments while you two looked at everything but each other.

"do you wann-" jason started only for you to speak up at the same time

"it's alright if you don't-"

now nervous giggles before you motioned for jason to go first, the boy blushing at the sweet smile you gave him.

"you wanna, i dunno, hang out some times?? with me, of course...unless you don't want-"

"jason, i've been sliding notes into your cabin for weeks. yes, i'd very much like to hang out."

"cool. very cool."

DONT WORRY HE GETS LESS AWKWARD WITH TIME I PROMISE

he always carries lip gloss in his jeans from the second you start dating

he quickly figured out your favorite and bought a few to keep on deck after you forgot to put it on one day and were pouty for the rest of the day

he was determined to never have you feel bad again and if lip gloss was the solution, so be it

also, hate hate hates that you do 'girl math'

makes no sense to him and he loves you, but cannot stand it

"no, no, jase baby, if i return the shirt, then the jeans are basically free because i'm returning the shirt, which is money that would have been gone anyways so it doesn't even matter."

"love of my life, the jeans are three times the price of the shirt."

"yeah, but i didn't get coffee the other day, so that's another five off and-"

it doesn't even matter tho bc he pays for everything so like??? why you worrying your pretty little mind about it??? you can't even remember the last time you paid for something

jason bought those jeans for you, if anyone was curious, so you didn't even have to return the shirt. which then gave you liberties to buy another shirt, since you already had the money put aside for the jeans-

i could talk circles around myself all day

i could convince myself to buy a fucking island if i girl math hard enough fr

it is a dangerous thing

also, do not think for one second those love letters stopped when you guys started dating

jason figured they would until one evening he came back from hanging out with leo in bunker nine, finding a letter gently laid on his pillow

he kept all of them in an old nike shoe box, showing your son and daughter once they were old enough to appreciate them always saying,

"this is what love is supposed to look like. if someone doesn't treat you like this, you leave them, ya hear me?"

soft boy and soft girl raise soft children, making them a soft family

OH OH OH THE MOST IMPORTANT HC THAT I NEARLY FORGOT

bows

bro

fucking bows

(if you can't tell from my blog, i am an avid bow enthusiast and not to be that person, but i was putting them in my hair BEFORE they blew up on tiktok, just saying.)

i just know for a fact jason loves when you put them in your hair, liking the feeling of the ribbon when he twirls your ponytail

and he def makes you put them on for sexy time, hair tugging more fun with a little pink bow for some contrast

love love loves when you use the baby blue ribbon that you say always reminds you of his eyes

gets him all blushy and shit

also, you def asked if you could put a ribbon around his dick once and he def said no

jk he can't say no to you

bro looked kawaii as fuck

but you were all giggles and laughs

and he got a rewards out of it, if you know what i mean

chocolates, duh

GET YOUR MIND OUT OF THE GUTTER-

like those sex chocolates with the hormones in them or whatever-

tell me im funny or die

#postcards from covey ౨ৎ #all my love ౨ৎ #pjo #pjo fandom #heroes of olympus x reader #hoo #percy jackon and the olympians #jason grace #jason grace x reader

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carmillamycarmine · 3 months

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Carmilla Carmine x Fem Reader: Reader learning ballet from Carmilla. {1,976 words}

Request by: @coallise

Pas de Deux

Flames danced and twisted with fervor, echoing laughter resounded like a haunting melody, and the anguished cries of citizens pierced the air. It was almost theatrical. A daunting song.

Carmilla, with a solemn grace, closed her eyes and embraced the disheartening setting of her current existence. Once again. Carmilla turned from the window, her large hands folded behind her back. Within the esteemed estate, metallic thudding on hard stone could be heard throughout. The building was quiet, sheilding itself away from the torture outside.

The tall, elegant woman stepped through the dimly lit corridors, her laced feet taking her exactly where she wanted to go. The grand ballroom was cold, always surprisingly. Carmilla entered the room, watching the dark curtains rustle and do their flapper dance. Crimson hues of the moon's light filtered through intricate stained glass windows, casting prisms of light upon the meticulously polished marble floor. Within this splendid setting, an atmosphere of eagerness formed and the woman couldn't help but smile smally.

With a snap of her long fingers, musical notes floated through the air, filling it with new life. Carmilla inhaled deeply, feeling her cold heart thaw.

‘Pavane for a Dead Princess’ played out.

Long arms went into first position, and so did her feet, for once allowing herself to be off her toes, in more ways than one. And with that, Carmilla flowed effortlessly into choreography from her heart, letting the music control her. She was of a black swan gliding across a tranquil lake, her angelic ballet shoes and straps sparkling in the light like the shimmers of that swan lake.

Carmilla felt sane here. She felt closer to herself.

Without warning, a familiar scent of rose wafted into her nose, triggering an emotion within Carmilla's thawed state. The woman immediately paused her dance but did not stumble, never. White irises darted towards the entrance, landing on your beautiful figure before you quickly slipped away, hiding yourself away from Carmilla in the shadows.

“Corazón?”

The sound of the ballet woman's bubbling, velvet voice caused a wave of shivers to swim through your body, making you sigh.

“Ven acá.”

Obediently, you did go to her, revealing yourself truthfully.

“There's no need to hide. I won't bite.” Carmilla looked away from you, her eyebrows furrowing slightly with a thought.

You didn't respond.

“Were you needing me?” Her velvety voice asked.

“No, not really. I just…” You spoke as your footsteps got closer to her. “I heard music. Music plays through these halls only a few times… which, anyway, is usually when you're done with your work.”

You looked up into her white eyes, the red of Carmilla's scleras glowing and highlighting bits of her perfect face.

“I see,” the taller woman replied, her large hand going up to touch her chin in thought.

It was quiet for a moment between you two, though, the music of ballet still played on.

“Teach me.” You almost command it.

“What?”

“Teach me how to dance ballet,” you said more specifically. “Please,” you added quickly.

Carmilla observed you for a moment, considering your request. As you stood before her, you swore you could see something shift within her gaze.

“Why?”

I suppose you should've expected that response. Your eyes immediately shifted away from hers, internally forcing yourself to not fluster. You chuckled suddenly, almost embarrassed.

“W-Why would anyone want to learn?” You ask, fiddling your thumbs before making quick eye contact again. “It's just.. so beautiful. You look… so beautiful.”

Carmilla's stoic face changed into one of surprise.

“I want to feel that way.”

The ballet woman's features softened, her heart tugging from the mix of your words.

"Very well," she agreed, extending her big hand towards you. "Come, let us not waste our time.”

With graceful movements, she guided you to the center of the ballroom, positioning you carefully. Her touch was soft, gentle, contrasting with the image of her imposing presence.

“First, we must find your balance," Carmilla instructed, using her hands to help her communicate. "Feel the ground beneath you, feel your feet, your heels build into the ground like the roots of a sturdy tree.”

You followed her guidance, focusing on your stance as she adjusted your posture with a gentle touch.

“Now, let the music guide you," she continued, snapping her fingers to restart to music from the speakers. "Feel its rhythm coursing through your veins, connecting you to every note, every beat, as if it's the song of your own beating blood.”

As the bittersweet melody rewinds and envelopes the room once again, you tentatively begin to move, slightly mimicking Carmilla's steps you saw earlier to guide you. At first, it felt awkward and unfamiliar, but with each passing moment, you surrendered yourself to the music, allowing it to carry you, though, you still felt awkward all the same.

Feeling the music, you forget about your stiffness and focus on just allowing the music to take control, hoping it'll relax your body.

“The song of your own heart, corazón, not mine.”

You couldn't help but huff a bit, knowing Carmilla wanted you to produce your own dance, not blatantly copying. Following Carmilla's instructions, your movements felt uncertain. Despite your best efforts, you couldn't quite capture the fluid grace that seemed to come so naturally to her. And then, just as you feared, you slipped, your calves not used to holding up all your weight from your toes.

Before you knew it, a long, strong arm snaked around your waist as your hand was pulled by another, forcing your tumbling body into an upright position and being pulled into a firm, warm embrace. Carmilla held you steady, and without missing a beat, the woman smoothly transitioned into a pas de deux, pulling you close and along as if it were the most natural thing in the world. In her embrace, you felt a sense of security and belonging, almost a sense of awe, as if for this moment, the chaos of hell outside faded away, leaving only the two of you to burn like hot flames, dancing flames, swirling and flickering in untamed perfect harmony.

You stumbled at first, trying to keep up with Carmilla's practiced steps, but she guided you with patience and grace, leading you through the intricate movements with ease. As you danced together, you felt a connection deeping between you two, a silent understanding that transcended words; a passionate inferno.

Carmilla moved you through each step with a confidence that stirred the progressively boiling pot within you. As you looked up into her glowing eyes, you saw a flicker of emotion that mirrored your own desire, a silent longing that spoke volumes without even a single word being spoken aloud. Every brush of skin against skin sent a shiver down your spine, turning up the flames beneath your pot.

As the music swelled, Carmilla's arms lifted you easily into the air, your body weightless to her. You felt the rush of adrenaline mixed with the desire for Carmilla herself, sending a surge of electricity coursing through your veins. Seeing the woman beneath you, looking up at you, was a sight to behold, the romanticized music and red moonlight tinting the marble floor only adding to the fantastical scene. You did everything in your power to not reach out and caress the beautiful face before you.

When the music reached its end, Carmilla gently lowered you back down onto the floor, carefully allowing you to steady yourself before letting go of you. You already missed her touch, missed her too, though she was right there in front of you.

You stood breathless. Was it from the dancing, or was it from Carmilla? Unfortunately, you already knew the answer to that. With a slight part of her lips, as if she wanted to express something, Carmilla brushed a stray hair from your face, her touch causing your heart to skip and pulse with speed.

"You dance beautifully," she whispered, her voice barely above a whisper.

Gazing into each other's eyes, in that moment, you knew what you had to say. Summoning all your courage, you took a closer step forward, your heart pounding in your chest as you closed your eyes a moment to cope. "Carmilla," you began, your voice trembling with emotion. "There's something I need to… want to.. tell you.”

“Yes?” was all the taller woman spoke.

Taking a deep breath, you shook your head and held your hands together in comfort. You gathered your thoughts, your heart desperately wanting release. "I... I…” You chuckled nervously, laughing at your own nerves. “Carmilla… I love you," you confessed, your voice a faint murmur. "I've never... felt this way.. about anyone before… so passionately about someone before. You're... you're just so perfect. You're everything to me.”

For a moment, there was silence, complete silence as the music finally cuts off with its ending. The atmosphere with anticipation, you fear the worst and quickly open your mouth to take back the words you announced. And then, skipping your heart once more, Carmilla reached out and placed her sueded hand delicately on your cheek, so delicate, she might as well not be touching you at all.

“And I love you, mi amor, mi corazón," she whispered, her voice filled with warmth and affection. "I have for far longer than I care to admit.”

You were stunned, in awe. How could she say something so easily? You stood there, barely able to comprehend Carmilla's confession. A twitchy smile tugged at the corners of your lips.

"You... you love me?" you repeated, the words feeling foreign yet undeniably sweet on your tongue.

“With my whole soul," the ballet woman replied, her voice steady and unwavering.

A scoff fell from your lips before evolving into full chuckles, the sound filled with a mix of sheer disbelief and happiness. "I can't… I can't believe this," you murmured, shaking your head in amazement. "I never thought... I never dared to even hope…” But as you looked on into Carmilla's white eyes, you knew that her words were real, that the love you felt for each other was genuine and true. For some reason, the confession smothered you, and you could almost pass out.

“Hell… I really do love you, my Carmilla.” you said, your voice filled with conviction and need. "More than I ever thought possible.”

Carmilla hummed deeply in delight at that. A full smile dressed her black painted lips, a rare and truly radiant expression that lit up her entire face. Boldly, Carmilla allowed her thumb to gently graze over your bottom lip.

"May I kiss you?" she asked, her bubbly, velvety voice putting you in a daze.

You nodded eagerly, your heart getting ready to burst in your chest as Carmilla leans in closer and closer, her lips hovering just inches away from yours. With a gentle brush of her lips against yours, the world seemed to explode into fireworks. Passion and desire bursting within, each popped spark igniting a fervent longing that enveloped you both in a whirlwind of ecstasy and enchantment.

Maybe it was just Charlie's, the princess of hell’s firework spell that she does at work.

Reluctantly pulling apart from the kiss, you smile up at Carmilla, and she smiles down at you, admiring you. You held each other close, savoring the moment and the overwhelming rush of emotions. In the quiet of the ballroom, surrounded by the gentle flapping of the curtains, you found heaven in each other's arms. With a contented sigh, Carmilla rested her head against your shoulder, her arms completely wrapped around you in a comforting hug. And as you stood there, basking in the warmth of her touch, you knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, as long as you had each other, you could overcome anything… such as your insulting ballet skills.

#my writing #carmilla carmine #carmilla carmine x reader #carmilla x reader #hazbin carmilla #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel carmilla #writing

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randxmthxughts · 1 year

Text

Unrequited - Chapter 5 / finale - Tsu'tey x Omatikaya!Reader

chapter 3 | chapter 4

wc: 8k

a/n: can't believe this is the eeeend!!! i'm so excited to finally post this and see what you think. it's been a journey and i hope you enjoyed it just as much as i did! replies and asks are greatly appreciated

unrequited masterlist | general masterlist

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Tsu’tey thought he made the right decision to let you go, after all, he knew from the very beginning that it wouldn’t work out. As the Olo’eyktan, his responsibility was to prioritize his people, so it was only fair that he stopped getting distracted by his desires and focused on his duty. Yet, he couldn’t shake off the feeling that he made a mistake. That maybe, just maybe, there was still a chance to start over and he had turned it down.

He didn't realize the toll that your last conversation had taken on you, leaving you completely shattered. He had disappeared for weeks on end, leading a search party to investigate the outskirts of the forest after the battle with sky people. It was a long time coming, but it still seemed too well planned to you.

Tsu’tey also didn’t know about the number of nights you spent crying in your bed, or the way your soulless eyes were searching for him in every person during communal gatherings, despite knowing that you wouldn’t find him there. He didn’t know that Takuk, who had stayed back at the Home Tree, attempted to court you in a rather awkward manner, which was obvious to everyone. With Tsu’tey’s absence, and Takuk’s clear interest in you, people had begun to whisper and speculate that it was never serious between you and the chief. Takuk was an honest man, and Tsu’tey was too good to be true anyway, they’d say.

And it hurt. It hurt too much because there was a shift in the air. You didn’t push Takuk away, having no energy to fight back the swirling rumors. You stopped showing up to your lessons with Mo’at, despite following through with the ultimatum she gave you that night. Technically, Tsu'tey had broken things off, and you were a free woman once again, so you could resume your lessons, but what was the point? Becoming a tsakarem to lead alongside a man who didn’t want you?

You drew another long sigh, as you sat weaving a basket. Not that you needed one but the loss of appetite and the absence of healing lessons left you with little to do, and so you occupied your hands with a mindless task. Takuk sat beside you, absentmindedly polishing his weapons, his voice a constant chatter that barely registered in your mind. Most of your time with him was spent like this, with you barely reciprocating his advances, hoping that Takuk would eventually grow bored of you and stop his affection. And if he didn’t, maybe you’d finally break down and accept the idea of being loved by somebody else.

“May I speak with you?” Neytiri casted a shadow over you, blocking the sunlight.

You paused for a moment to nod to Takuk, silently asking for privacy. Neytiri’s gaze bore into you, searching for a hint of your state. As soon as Takuk left, she sat in front of you, taking the unfinished basket out of your hands and putting it aside. You shivered, the absence of distraction made the thoughts come rushing back.

“Why do you torture yourself like this?” Neytiri’s voice was firm, almost like she was angry with you, “You look drained.”

You couldn't help but feel resentment at her words. Of course, you weren't like your usual self. You had lost sleep over the only person you loved, and it was unrequited.

"I'm fine," you replied curtly, avoiding her eyes. It wasn’t like you didn’t hear those words from her before.

“I am not blind. You need to snap out of it and let your mind rest,” she stated, taking in your appearance once again. You felt exposed under her gaze, seeing right through your fragile facade.

“I’m doing my best,” you shook your head, a painful lump growing in your throat, “Doing what everyone thinks is right.”

“I want you to do what you think is right,” she pointed at your heart.

You shook your head, wishing for her to stop. Neytiri sighed with disappointment at your stubbornness. She has been pushing you around for weeks now, trying to get you back to your lessons. She was convinced that Mo’at was right and that you were a good fit for becoming a tsakarem, so abandoning that opportunity and letting Takuk linger around you seemed like a waste of time to her. Whether you would end up with Tsu’tey or not, Neytiri believed you deserved to be recognized for your efforts and talent.

“The Great Mother blessed you with a gift, how can you refuse it?” she spoke softer this time, trying another approach.

You winced at her words, standing up quickly to gather your things. There was some commotion in the distance, and you spotted a group of warriors returning to the clan, just in time for the communal dinner. Neytiri noticed where your gaze had landed and gasped when she spotted Tsu'tey. But before she could react, you had already stormed off.

Tears were now threatening to spill out, as you realized he returned. The prospect of seeing him was on your mind every day since he left, yet you were too afraid to face him.

“Y/N, wait,” Neytiri yelled, chasing after you, “We’re not finished.”

You ran into your hut, not even bothering to check if she was still following you. The items in your hands slipped out and fell to the ground as you pathetically tried to wipe away the tears that were streaming uncontrollably down your cheeks.

“Eywa will guide you two to each other,” Neytiri’s voice cut like a knife through your chest, causing you to let out a painful whimper at her words.

“It’s out of her power to make him love me.”

Neytiri stood by the entrance, feeling a little guilty for pushing you. If she had known that Tsu’tey would be back by now, she wouldn't have tested you today. The call for the communal dinner rang loudly through the Home Tree, alongside cheerful whistling, indicating that the search party would be celebrated that evening.

“He is just scared to admit it,” she added, her voice low.

"I can't keep holding on to something that's not there.”

You shrugged, feeling frustrated with her persistence. You were unaware of the talk Neytiri had with Tsu’tey and how heavily it weighed on her mind. She was the only one who understood how deeply he was wounded by the pain of losing Silwanin. How he couldn’t bring himself to open up to you because he was afraid of losing another person he loved, and that the responsibility of being a chief was clouding his judgment. Neytiri was convinced that you’d be able to heal his wounds, but she struggled to show it to you.

“Alright,” she sighed, defeated, “Let’s go and eat.”

“You go, I have lost my appetite.”

Neytiri hesitated for a moment, unsure of what to do, before nodding and leaving your hut. It was pointless to argue, so she made a mental note to bring you food afterwards. Her face scrunched up in irritation when she saw Tsu’tey standing outside, wearing a regretful expression that suggested he had heard your conversation, or at least the last part of it.

“Well?” she quirked her eyebrow at him, waiting for him to go and talk to you.

But as she stared at him in anticipation, Tsu’tey seemed to change his mind. He shook his head and walked away, leaving Neytiri disappointed. It was clear that he was torn between his feelings, and she didn't know what to do to help him.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

The physical distance Tsu’tey had to put between you two during the past weeks caused him a constant headache. It felt like Eywa was playing a cruel game on him, as night after night, you appeared in his dreams. He would awaken in a cold sweat, the memory of you convincing him to beg you to return to him, once he was back at the village. But then the next night, as soon as he was determined to win you back, the image of Silwanin would infiltrate his dreams, and guilt would consume him.

Y/N. Silwanin. He hadn't visited Silwanin for a long time, fearful that seeing her would awaken the longing he had buried deep inside and revive all the pain. But as he pondered on his dreams, Tsu’tey realized that Eywa was sending him a sign - a solution.

When Tsu’tey brought out his kuru to the glowing Mother Tree, for the first time in years, he felt like he was on the right path. He knew that Silwanin would be waiting for him, but he was still scared to face her. He had so much to say, so much to ask, but he didn't know how to start.

Closing his eyes, Tsu'tey focused on his connection with Eywa and felt a gentle breeze surround him, wrapping him in a familiar warmth. A pair of hands, soft and comforting, encircled him in a loving embrace.

"Tsu'tey, my love, I've missed you," a voice whispered into his ear.

As he opened his eyes, Tsu'tey found Silwanin standing before him, smiling brightly. She was just as beautiful as he remembered, and for a moment, he forgot that she was gone. He held her tightly.

“I missed you too, yawne,” he whispered back, his voice choked with grief. When her fingertips traced his face, he had to close his eyes to stop the tears from flowing.

“I’ve been waiting for you to visit me for a long time now. I thought you forgot about me,” she pulled away.

"I'm sorry," he said with disappointment, shaking his head. "I was too scared to come."

“Why were you scared?” she questioned, with an unknowing look, but Tsu’tey hesitated to respond, “Is it about me?”

“You’re not… not here,” he revealed.

“I am not?”

Tsu'tey felt a lump form in his throat as he recounted the painful events that led to her passing. Silwanin listened patiently with a peaceful expression, as if everything started to finally make sense to her.

“I see,” she whispered, reaching up to wipe away his tears. “I wish you didn’t have to go through that alone, my love.”

Tsu'tey shook his head, unable to speak, overwhelmed by the emotions that flooded his heart. He was pulled him into a tender embrace, which made him weep like a child. For the first time in forever, it seemed like a weight was being lifted off Tsu’tey’s chest.

“Tell me about your life now,” Silwanin placed a hand on his cheek, eager to learn, “You’re the Olo’eyktan. Neytiri is a good mate to you, yes?”

“Neytiri is a good mate to Toruk Makto.”

“The Toruk Makto?” Silwanin widened her eyes. From Tsu’tey’s brief story, she recognized the dreamwalker, “But what about you?”

“I’m not mated with anyone.”

Silwanin pressed her lips together, seeming displeased with his answer. It hurt her to know that Tsu’tey wasn't moving on with his life and was torturing himself. He watched her expression change, and gulped down nervously, before confessing.

“There is someone… but I don’t know if I can be with her. Ever be with anyone.”

“Is she good to you?” Silwanin’s ears perked up in curiosity,

“She is,” he nodded with a sigh, “But I cannot make her happy..”

“Tsu’tey, of course you can,” she argued, “You are only torturing yourself if you’re pushing her away.”

“But what about you?”

“Stop worrying about me. I only wish for you to be happy, and if she can ease your worries and make you feel at peace, then who am I to stop you?”

Tsu’tey’s lip trembled at her words. Just like he remembered, Silwanin was understanding and kind, always looking out for him. And as always, she knew better than him what was right. He nodded slowly.

“It’s time to move on, Tsu’tey,” she smiled softly, leaning in to place a gentle kiss on his forehead.

“You’re right,” he whispered, “I will always love you.”

“I know.”

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Tsu’tey returned back to the Home Tree, eager to find you and tell you he was a fool. His heart raced when he spotted your silhouette disappear into the thick greenery of the forest, but before he could follow after you, a pair of hands pressed against his chest, stopping him in his tracks. Tsu’tey let out a low growl of annoyance upon realizing that it was Jake standing in his way.

"Where are you off to in such a hurry, brother? Haven’t seen you in weeks, and you’re already disappearing somewhere,” Jake teased, enjoying the sight of the Olo’eyktan becoming increasingly irritated.

“I have to find someone,” he mumbled, trying to walk away, but Jake was quick to block his path.

“Is that someone Y/N?”

“It is none of your business,” Tsu’tey spat out.

Jake stepped back, crossing his arms over his chest as he studied Tsu’tey with an observant gaze. Tsu’tey felt his patience ran out, eager to end the conversation and follow after you, before you’d disappear. Then he realized.

“Why did you say Y/N?”

“Because Neytiri told me,” Jake responded, his tone suddenly turning more protective, “I didn’t believe it at first, but if it is true, you should be more considerate of Y/N’s feelings.”

Who was Jake Sully to get protective over you? To add on, who was he to protect you from Tsu’tey? As if he could ever hurt you. Tsu’tey stiffened at the thought.

“Neytiri shouldn’t have told you, it is none of your concern.”

“I think I get a little say in this, since Neytiri told you she was pregnant before she told me,” Jake answered. He waited for Tsu’tey to protest, but it seemed like the point was strong enough to keep him quiet, “Anyway, like I said, if you’re going to keep playing with Y/N, you should stop now.”

“Who said I was playing with her?” the Olo’eyktan suddenly felt defensive. Was it truly the way he was seen? Inconsiderate?

“It seems like it, she is a mess,” Jake continued, “Look, I don’t know her well, and I have no idea what went on between you two but it clearly affected her. Y/N is not well, Tsu’tey… Neytiri has been watching her every day since you left because she is concerned for her. So you either fix it, or you let Y/N move on, alright?”

“No, I will fix it,” Tsu’tey nodded with determination.

“Okay,” Jake stepped out of his path, “Okay, go fix it.”

Tsu’tey nodded again, his mind already focused on finding you, his feet carrying him through the bushes where he saw you disappear. He felt agonized, knowing that he hurt you so much it was obvious even to a skxawng like Jake. Tsu’tey didn’t even feel angry for getting scolded by him, because he had no one else to blame but himself.

His senses sharpened as he scanned the area for any sign of you. It didn't take him long to pick up your scent and follow your trail. As he walked, he felt a growing urgency to apologize to you, to tell you that he regretted his words. He didn't know if he could make things right, but he needed to try.

It felt like hours had passed when Tsu'tey finally caught sight of you up ahead, sitting on a fallen log and watching the river. You often came to this spot to wash off after meeting up with him, and as you sat there, your mind couldn't help but wander back to him. With your back turned, you didn't notice Tsu'tey lingering in the back, though you felt a presence nearby. It felt like your mind was playing tricks on you, but before you could turn to look, Takuk caught your attention.

Tsu’tey watched his trainee make his way over to you with a snarl. He felt a surge of jealousy and frustration at Takuk giving you a flower and you accepting it. He had been gone only for a few weeks, and Takuk already made a move? Were you only polite to accept the flower, or was it something more? Remaining hidden, Tsu’tey watched as you and Takuk talked. He could see Takuk's longing gaze but couldn't see your reaction, making him uneasy as he stared at your back.

Shifting on his feet, Tsu’tey was caught off guard when Takuk suddenly turned his face and spotted him. The Olo’eyktan cleared his throat, now forced to step into the open. His heart clenched when you turned around to face him, your eyes tracing his features.

The formalities were exchanged quickly, though Tsu’tey couldn’t keep his eyes off you. He hadn’t seen you in so long, it seemed like there was something different about you. His eyes roamed over your face again and again, and he felt like he was deprived of you, wanting to memorize every small line and engrave it into his mind. Tsu’tey wasn’t sure what exactly changed but he noticed the shift in your gaze - your usual adoration was no longer evident in your eyes, making room for anger? You seemed almost irritated to be in his presence.

“Takuk, may I ask you for a favor?” Tsu’tey spoke, forcing himself to tear his gaze away from you and focus on his trainee.

“Sure, what is it, chief?” Takuk responded eagerly, completely oblivious to the way you watched the Olo’eyktan.

“I want you to gather a meeting with the search party and the rest of the warriors. Make sure everyone is updated on what happened in the last weeks, so everyone’s informed. I will join you a little later and tell you of our next plans,” Tsu’tey ordered. Takuk nodded in confirmation.

Sending Takuk away meant that Tsu’tey would be alone with you, and that scared you. You didn't want to fall apart in front of him once more, not after finally coming to terms with the fact that it was over.

As his past trainee and a trusted warrior, Takuk often received small and big orders from the Olo’eyktan. And Tsu’tey did not lie; he was indeed planning on a meeting with the rest of his warriors to begin the work. But once again, it was clear to you that Tsu’tey's timing and orders were as intentional as a trained hunter hitting a bullseye.

“Y/N,” he spoke softly, your ears lowering instantly at the tone, though your mind was telling you to be angry, “I missed you.”

“No,” you shook your head firmly, “You don’t get to say that if you don’t mean it.”

“I do mean it,” Tsu’tey insisted, taking a step towards you, but you backed away from him, your heart hardened, “I’m sorry for the way I left things off.”

Unbelievable. After everything he had put you through, he had the audacity to show up like this and tell you he missed you? It was too late. The damage was done.

"You're sorry?" you scoffed, "Is that all?”

"No, I regret my words,” his eyes searched yours for a sign of forgiveness, “But I’ve changed. I am not that man anymore who couldn’t give you what you deserved. I’m not scared anymore.”

"It's too late for that, Tsu'tey," your voice was shaky, "I don’t want somebody who doesn’t want me… not anymore. I’ve learned my lesson. I moved on.”

Tsu'tey took another step towards you, but you held up a hand to stop him.

"Please, just go.”

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Tsu’tey never knew the true weight of jealousy until you. It was always easier with Silwanin. He was intimidating to begin with and the whole clan knew about his love for her, so nobody dared to even think about courting the chief’s oldest daughter. But having given Takuk a permission to court you himself and seeing you continue to spend time with that man, while ignoring Tsu’tey’s every attempt to talk to you, made him furious. As the Olo’eyktan, Tsu’tey felt corrupted to use his position to get back at Takuk. He became ruthless during the training at the camp, pointing out Takuk's mistakes in front of his own students. He knew it was wrong, but he couldn't help his anger.

Tsu’tey was also so desperate for your attention that he even forced himself to ask Neytiri for help. She scoffed at his request to seat you with him during the communal dinner but agreed to help anyway. Though, as she led you by the hand and you neared the circle, it was clear what she was trying to do. You pulled out of her grasp and sat down on the other side to avoid being near him. Reluctantly, Neytiri had to follow and sit down next to you, shooting an apologetic look to Tsu’tey. His heart sank once more at the failed attempt, and Jake had to reassure him with a nudge.

“Why won’t you speak with him?” Neytiri whispered, as you blatantly ignored Tsu’tey’s eyes piercing through you.

“I don’t want to have to do anything with him,” you replied harshly, occupying yourself with your food.

“He is truly sorry for the way he behaved,” she continued, trying to get it through you but you were too stubborn to listen.

The pain of being left by Tsu’tey was incomparable to anything you had ever experienced before. It cut so deep into your soul that you hardly recognized yourself anymore. You lost your appetite, with it, some weight, and the usual spark in your eyes. Mentally, you closed off and fortified your walls, to stop letting yourself hope. You refused to put yourself in a position where you were chasing after someone who didn't want you again. If Tsu’tey regretted his harshness towards you, then so be it. Your desire was to hold onto what little dignity remained, and if you let him close, it would have been completely gone.

“You’re wasting time,” Neytiri continued, “I have never seen him so desperate for anyone’s attention before.”

A big lump started to form in your throat: Neytiri always knew how to push your buttons. Your heart still swelled with the love for Tsu’tey but your mind was telling you to stay angry, not let him in. For once, you were listening to your mind instead of blindly following your heart. Not everything you love is good for you.

“Try some of this,” Tsu’tey’s voice rang loudly in your ears, your eyes quickly following his movements.

He crouched down in front of you, offering you a meat wrap in his open palm. All eyes seemed to be drawn to the chief kneeling in front of a regular clan member and sharing his food. It was a highly respected but rare gesture, usually perceived as a big compliment, or as a sign of courting? Your eyes darted between his hand stretched out towards you and his face wearing an expression of anticipation. You were acutely aware of the attention you were getting, and the more you stared at him, the more embarrassed you felt.

What was he trying to gain from you with a public gesture? Make you comply because of his title and give in? Did he think it would change things in private? You felt anger boiling up inside of you, as you announced as loud as you could.

“I am grateful for the gesture, Olo’eyktan Tsu’tey, but I feel ill, so I must refuse it. Now if you’ll excuse me,” you stood up, not giving him a chance to respond.

Tsu’tey, like the rest of the clan, stared after you, as you walked away, clutching at your stomach as if you were in pain. He had to swallow his pride once more and return to his spot. Tsu’tey listened quietly to everything that Jake was then telling him, about the ways humans courted each other, how he shouldn’t have put you into such a position, and it made him lose his appetite. Was the thought of him so disgusting to you?

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

You continued to turn a cold shoulder on Tsu’tey, whether he showed up at your home to talk and you would walk out on him, or he approached you when you were with others, occupied with anything else but him. Days and nights passed, but you just didn't understand what he wanted from you.

So you found yourself wandering deeper and deeper into the rainforest regularly, trying to lose yourself in the lush greenery. Your thoughts were consumed with the mistakes you had made, and you tried to convince yourself that Tsu’tey's intentions to apologize no longer mattered. You were fed up with feeling sad over him, and anger had taken its place, though you still yearned for his touch each night before you slept.

You were completely lost in your thoughts, when a low growl shattered through the quiet of the forest. A palulukan sprang in front of you, hissing furiously. Panic surged through you as you forced yourself to back away as slow as you could, though it was pointless. You were defenseless; running from a hungry palulukan was like playing into the dangerous game of a trapped helpless prey.

Just as you thought it was the end of your life, the palulukan slowly lowered its head to your height. A glimmer of recognition flickered in your mind as you took a deep breath. Was it possible that it recognized you? The palulukan cautiously took a few steps towards you, its growls softening as if it decided against attacking you.

“Y/N, stay back!” Tsu’tey yelled, leaping between you and the animal, arrow already aimed.

"No, don't shoot!" you cried out desperately, "It's her! The one we saved."

The animal jumped back with a low hiss, sniffing around Tsu’tey as it began to recognize the man who saved her. Tsu’tey glanced back at you, and as you nodded to confirm your words, he slowly lowered his weapon. But he remained in front of you protectively anyway.

“She grew twice her size,” he commented with an observing eye, a hint of pride evident in his voice.

The palulukan caught and recognized your scent, seeming to relax and slowly retreating, flicking its powerful tail in a sign of trust. You marveled at the sight, watching the animal leave and disappear into the dense flora. A breathy chuckle escaped from your mouth, and you stepped out from behind Tsu’tey to bid a farewell to the palulukan. Like a sign from Eywa… you could feel her presence. It wasn't a coincidence.

“What are you doing here? This is not a safe place to be,” Tsu’tey quickly snapped back to reality, addressing you harsher than he usually would.

“I can be wherever I want to be,” you put a distance between you.

"I don't want any member of my clan wandering this far alone and unarmed. Especially not you," he gestured to the empty space where your bow and arrow should have been. You fought the embarrassed blush - it was your slip up.

“I don’t need a babysitter. So stop following me around.”

“Not unless you talk to me,” he persisted.

You were growing irritated once again, crossing your arms on your chest. Arguing was wearing you down, sucking out all of the remaining energy.

“Then you talk, I have nothing to say to you.”

“I’m sorry,” he began, and you couldn’t help but scoff at the words, “I truly am. I was a fool to hurt you, to push you away. I was scared because I thought I couldn’t give you what you deserved.”

“I don’t know what you want for me, Tsu’tey. Forgiveness? Do you want me to take the apology and move on?” you questioned with a harsh tone, “Because I am trying to do what you wanted me to. I don’t protest Takuk’s courting, I stay away from you and I’m trying to move on no matter how much -”

“I see you,” he interrupted, stepping closer to you.

“You see me,” you repeated confusedly, but your tail wagged aimlessly, betraying the small pang of excitement. Did he really mean it?

“I do, I see you,” he nodded, lowering himself to the ground in front of you, “Please, give me a chance.”

Your eyes widened at the sight of Tsu’tey kneeling, his hands wrapped gently around your ankles. You stared down at him, observing the way his face etched with true regret and something else? Like there was an admiration for you.

“What are you doing, Tsu’tey?” you swallowed hard.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry for everything," he spoke desperately, his grip tightened as he looked up at you with pleading eyes, "I tried to push my feelings for you away, but they were too strong to fight. I can't bear the thought of you being with anyone else but me… I’m in love with you, Y/N.”

"Love?" Your eyes darted back and forth between his, trying to find any hint of lying, but all you saw was sincerity.

“Yes, I have fallen for you completely. My mind and body belong to you… my heart belongs to you now,” he whispered, as his hands reached for yours.

Tsu’tey, the man who had once claimed he could never love you, was now on his knees pleading with you to give him a chance. His eyes were glistening with tears, and you unintentionally mirrored him, feeling your own starting to roll down your cheeks.

All this time, you had thought he wanted your forgiveness for his harshness, but what he really wanted was to be with you. His heart belonged to you? You squeezed your eyes shut, hoping to wake up from what felt like another one of your nightly dreams. But it was real. Tsu’tey had confessed his love for you, and it was entirely real.

“Can you find it in your heart to take pity on a foolish, cowardly man like me? Do you think you could ever love me back?” he looked up at you with so much hope. Tsu’tey refused to back down now, when he had it all out in the open.

“Tsu’tey,” you let out, freeing your hand from his grasp. He would have died on the spot sensing rejection if you hadn’t brought your hand to cup his cheek tenderly. “I have loved you since we were kids, you know that, don’t you?”

“Truly?” he whispered, leaning his face into your touch, “Even after everything I did?”

“Always, no matter what happens, I could never stop loving you,” you confessed, lowering yourself to kneel in front of him.

Tsu’tey searched your eyes for any sign of doubt, his mind struggling to keep up with your words. But the way you looked at him was unmistakable; he had seen that loving, eager gaze before. He leaned in, his lips brushing against yours, tasting his own tears mixed with yours. You shivered at the feeling that was so different, yet so pleasant. He loved you. Tsu’tey loved you!

Infectious warmth was spreading through you, and it felt like you were dreaming. You placed your hand on his chest, feeling the racing of his heart beneath your palm. Tsu’tey took your hand and brought it to his lips, kissing it gently.

“Tsaheylu,” he whispered, his eyes locking onto yours.

You’d be his, he’d be yours. He was scared that you’d push him away, but as you reached out to bring out your kuru, an abiding affection filled him from head to toe. He rushed to bring out his forward too, and as you were close to connecting, you couldn’t help but whisper.

“I see you,” you said, meeting Tsu’tey’s gaze.

“I see you,” he replied, a smile spreading across his face.

Your kurus connected, forming a tsaheylu, and you leaned forward and kissed him again, feeling the power of it coursing through your body. It was like the two halves were becoming one, and you could feel everything Tsu’tey felt. All of the doubts and fears were slipping away now that you had proof he was telling the truth, he loved you, and his mind and body were consumed by the thoughts of you. Tsu’tey felt your love too, everything you ever told him and did for him was with the intention of loving him… being hopelessly devoted to him. He could sense the way your heart raced and synced with the beat of his own.

As Tsu’tey continued to kiss you with an almost feverish intensity, it caused a rush of warmth to spread through your body. His kisses were gentle yet urgent, as if he was afraid you would disappear if he didn't show you enough affection. You couldn't help but hold him tight, wanting to feel his warmth and closeness after being apart for so long.

You ran your fingers through his braided hair, marveling at how much you missed the feeling. The way his lips moved across your cheek, your forehead, your jawline - leaving hot traces on your skin. His fingers tracing the curves of your body. Him exploring you like he was discovering you for the first time.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Tsu’tey was desperate to show you his regret, how he truly felt miserable for hurting you. He was forgetting that you could feel it too, as he committed to absorbing every little sound you made, his lips moving over your folds, long digits stretching you out simultaneously. He was overwhelming, and you couldn’t help but squeeze him with your thighs, letting out a loud whimper when he sucked on your clit.

“Tsu’tey, please,” you whispered, your limbs starting to tremble at the tension in your core, “I need to feel you.”

He hummed against you, sending pleasant vibrations to your sensitive button. It was difficult to hold himself back but Tsu’tey wanted to pour out all of his love to you in the moment, to show how much he prioritized your happiness. You, you, you. It’s all you could hear in his thoughts, how he ignored the painful tension in his own body before sending a wave of pleasure through yours. You throbbed around his digits, fingers falling to his hair as you pulled his mouth away from you. He gazed into your half-lidded eyes, pupils dilating at the sight of you melting underneath him. At the feeling of your pleasure spreading through you and flowing with a taintest wave back to his own head.

He then rocked into you gently, slowly, savoring the moment. And you didn’t mind. You missed having him nestled in between your hips, angling himself in a way to pleasure you, to reach that spot inside you that made your eyes roll to the back of your head. He groaned, the tsaheylu intensifying every feeling in every nerve of his body. You kissed him again and again, becoming one with Tsu’tey, letting all of the pain slip away and make place for love.

The idea of his pleasure only heightened yours, and you could feel the knot tightening within you as the pressure built up. Tsu’tey picked up his pace, whispering your name and confessing his love, but you couldn’t hear him. As your bodies intertwined, the thoughts seemed to vanish into thin air. You came, squeezing him so desperately, he was forced to follow right after you. Your moans vanished and disappeared into the back of his throat.

He had been so lost before, so broken and shattered, but with you by his side, everything seemed to fall into place. Your touch was like a balm to his wounded soul, healing the scars of the past. And the way you looked at him - with such tenderness - made him feel like he was the only person in the world.

Tsu’tey pulled away slightly, hovering over you with an observant gaze. You couldn’t help but smile hazily at the feeling of him still inside you, reaching to cup his cheek. He knew it. You were completely his for the rest of your life. How could he ever think you were a distraction when you were his cure all along? All of the self-loathing and hatred he felt seemed so unimportant when he had someone like you love him.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

You couldn’t get enough of each other, and it’s been weeks since Tsu’tey and you became mates. Yet, no matter how much time you spent together, you always rushed to him at the end of your day. It was mostly with you in his arms, spending restless nights of passion, and conversations about the future, as you went to sleep. It was one of those nights when you laid on his chest, in a peaceful quiet, when Tsu’tey broke it.

"I've been thinking about something," he said softly, tracing circles on your back.

"Mhm, what is it?" you asked, looking up at him with a curious smile.

Oh, how he loved your smile! It was all he yearned for now that he got a taste of seeing you so happy. With him! Tsu’tey still couldn’t believe that he could make you smile and laugh so much, your cheeks hurt. All it took him was to admit his love, and your heart was healing alongside his, quickly, beating loyally for the other’s. He leaned in to kiss you softly, something he did often mid-conversations because he couldn’t keep it in anymore. Now that it was out in the open and you were mated, Tsu’tey quickly learned to stop worrying about everybody else but you. So if he wanted to hold you during communal dinners, he’d do just that, completely oblivious to your ashamed flushed face.

“I had this dream last night… And many nights before that too.”

"What was it about?" you raised an eyebrow in surprise. He rarely shared his dreams with you, because he found it to be pointless.

"It was about us," a smile spread across his face, quickly mirroring on your own, "I saw a big family. I also felt Eywa’s presence in it."

You felt your heart skip a beat at the mention of having a family, the idea of one with a man of your dreams was unsettling, overflowing. You have been in love with him for so long, it was still hard to believe he was yours sometimes. So having Tsu’tey dream about having a family with you made you emotional. Noticing your intense thinking, Tsu’tey wrapped his arms around you, and pulled you close. He had learnt his lesson, there would be nothing more unspoken left in between you. He did not wish to hurt you again.

"I love you, Y/N. I want to spend the rest of my life with you and raise a family.”

"I would love that," you said, your voice barely above a whisper. He grinned.

"Then it's settled," he pressed a kiss to your forehead.

You snuggled closer to him, feeling the warmth of his body against yours. As you drifted off to sleep, you felt grateful to Eywa for the man lying next to you.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

THE END

But wait, I have a bonus thingy (I didn’t know where to include it so):

Despite you slowly getting used to the idea of being the Olo’eyktan’s mate and getting more involved in his duties, you cannot seem to get back to yours. It is difficult to face Mo’at again, to take up healing, which you were so sure was your calling. Did you truly deserve to be a Tsahik? What if you were not talented enough? This killed Tsu’tey, as he would have preferred nobody else but you to become the clan’s healer.

He spent days trying to talk to you about it, having already announced his news of finding a mate to Mo’at. She wasn’t surprised to hear it, knowing that her hunch was always right, but you refusing to follow your tsakarem path upset her. Tsu’tey was determined to change that. When he saw his words were typically swayed by you into a different topic, he would send people to talk to you. It began with Jake and Neytiri, some of your healer friends, eventually he even asked Mo’at to scold you for your stubbornness, so you avoided her the best you could.

His plan outgrew itself when random clan members would come into your hut injured and ask for help, but sensing that it was his orders, you would send them away to seek help from Tsahik.

To say that getting injured was unintentional would be a lie; the idea of rushing to you for help seemed like a solution to Tsu’tey. After all, you would treat your mate if he was hurt, right? It was a stupid plan and you’d probably get mad at him for being careless, maybe not talk to him for a day, but if it could spark that interest again, why not take the risk? He learned from Jake Sully that all is fair in love and war.

When Tsu’tey stumbled into your hut with a loud groan, your eyes immediately spotted traces of red all over his thigh. You rushed to him to help him sit, scanning for other injuries, your heart racing with worry.

“Tsu’tey, what happened?” you questioned him.

“Jumped into the bushes from my ikran and scraped my leg, but I’m alright,” he groaned.

“You have blood,” you pointed out, “I’ll get Tsahik.”

“No, yawne,” he put his hand over your thigh to stop you from getting up, “I want you to help me.”

“It's better for Tsahik to do it. I don’t know how,” you shook your head, the two of you knowing well it was a lie. You were perfectly capable of cleaning him up in a matter of minutes.

“Y/N,” he said softer this time, hand coming up to cup your cheek, “Please would you help your mate?”

You stopped the protest, the red painted on his thigh seeming to reason with you. Then nodded with a small sigh before getting up to gather some supplies from your stash. Tsu’tey couldn’t help a satisfied smile that creeped onto his lips, as he watched you work. His wound wasn’t as bad as it looked, he cut skin which caused the bleeding, but it wasn’t deep enough to bother him.

You worked quickly, feeling the way his eyes lingered on you, reminding you of the time when he first came in with a broken arm into the Tsahik’s hut. You looked up at Tsu’tey to find a glimmer in his eyes with a wicked smirk he was desperately trying to hide.

“This looked worse than it actually is,” you noted, finishing up, “Why are you smiling?”

“No reason,” Tsu’tey shrugged, “Just happy to see you back in your element.”

“I am not back in my element,” you huffed, putting the supplies aside and shifting in your seat to face him, “Why would you even jump off your ikran without landing first?”

“I don’t know, just wanted to jump,” Tsu’tey said but his growing smirk was raising your suspicions.

“Do you think that I’d believe an Olo’eyktan would go off jumping his ikran mid-flying, as if he was a fresh warrior?” you questioned with an angry flare in your voice, “I can see right through you, Tsu’tey. This was careless… stupid of you.”

“But yawne, admit it, it felt good to treat me, right?” Tsu’tey ignored your scolding, hand reaching out to pull you to his chest.

You were genuinely upset with him for going the extra mile for you, but you couldn’t help it when he was so sweet. His arms wrapped around your middle, burying his face in the back of your head with a satisfied hum.

“Tsu’tey, it is not funny,” you tried to continue with anger, but it came out too low, “You shouldn’t injure yourself like that for me.”

“I just want to see you do what you like to do. Is it so bad to wish you used your talents?”

“I don’t have talent for healing -”

“I don’t like it when you lie to me,” he interrupted.

You fell quiet. He was being sweet the past week, trying everything to get you back into healing.

“Fine, I’ll give it another chance…” you trailed off, and it took a moment for him to turn you around with a joyous laughter and kiss you with all the gratitude he felt.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Oh, and bonus canons to resolve some of the plots:

Takuk found out about you being mated with Tsu’tey soon after, being one of the first.

he came to ask you to spend time with him when saw Tsu’tey come out of your hut

later that day he felt the change not only in your mood but also in your scent, and it all clicked in his head

being respectful of his Olo’eyktan and having doubts from the beginning that there was some truth to the rumors, Takuk didn’t take it to his heart

his whole life he looked up to Tsu’tey and he was happy to see the man beaming with love

you and Tsu’tey both felt bad for leaving things unanswered but eventually it passed

there was no more tension Tsu’tey felt between himself and Takuk

Neytiri threw the fact that you’re together into Jake’s face almost every day

every time they saw you two, Jake got ready to receive that satisfied smirk from Neytiri

of course, it was her who found out about you mating with Tsu’tey

the second they saw each other on the next day after your mating, they exchanged a knowing look

he thought it’d be fair to tell Neytiri first for everything she did for him

you quickly slipped into your usual self, even happier than you were before Tsu’tey and it didn’t go unnoticed

while it was a bit sudden to them, the clan mostly reacted well when they saw Tsu’tey hold your hand

eventually everyone realized that happy Tsu’tey = happy clan, so no one dared to even think anything negative

you and Tsu’tey began to make your own place, in the meantime, he would come and spend time at your hut

he’d sometimes finish up his chores for the day earlier to come and fetch you from Mo’at

she was not eager to let you go but she couldn’t say no when she saw your smile whenever Tsu’tey walked in

and though you had your doubts at first, after the tsaheylu, trusting Tsu’tey was the easiest thing you had to do

after feeling what he felt for you and hearing him reassure you every night, you felt like the most important person to him

which you are

Tsu’tey was grateful for finding you, after losing everything else

as lessons went by, it was only logical that Mo’at announced you to be the new tsakarem

connecting with Eywa became one of your favorite things, as you were not ashamed of what you had or didn’t have anymore

your connection grew stronger and often you got signs from her, one of the perks of being the future Tsahik

the love between you and Tsu'tey also grew stronger with each passing day, and you felt like you've finally found your purpose

Jake always said something about you falling for Tsu’tey first, but him falling for you harder

you’re not sure what it really meant but he assured you it was a good thing back on earth, !!!romantic!!!

of course, Tsu’tey and you started discussing having kids (like a few weeks in) but decided to hold on to it for a little bit longer, so that you could focus on each other and your new duties

but it didn’t take too long until you gave in…

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

taglist (since this is the last chapter, if you guys want to be moved to my regular taglist please let me know): @mechformers @xx-mayday-martyr-xx @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed @fanboyluvr @live-laugh-neteyam @cawi00 @sovereignsylvia @wifey0209 @jakescumdump @vxncxntt @avatarbyamara @vviviivvivivivvivivivi @aracelikara @brooklynscherry-z @teyums @bestwlwmonster @totesnothere04 @n7cje @suntizme @weasleytwinwheezes @neteyamslovrr @crustskullz @vane28282 @youngbananamilkshake @elissanatok @perplexing-vex @zoetrope1997 @yeosxxx @kurogxrix @sakura-onesan @saltedcoffeescotch @daeneeryss @silententhusiastdreamer @omnifanfic @skyofnight @stargirlrchive @doromoni @anxietydrogz @marsbars09 @deliciousdilfmentality @theunfortunateplace @tinystarfishgalaxy @mayonaise-mmm @marsbars09 @faerienotfound @ohshititsfenharel @meowiemari @ttkttt @arsonfrogger @isabel-ffl-xoxo

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apomaro-mellow · 4 months

Text

King&Prince 6

Nancy was pacing back and forth. Normally, it made Eddie anxious, but since he knew exactly what was on her mind, he decided to let her continue until her short legs tired her out.

"I just-I don't understand you. How can you give him free reign of the castle?"

"He doesn't have free reign", Eddie said.

"Did you put a collar on him? Or cuffs?", Nancy asked. When Eddie shook his head, she continued. "Do you put any sort of spell on him? Or charm?"

"Robin can handle herself. And there's always guards nearby if he steps out of line."

Nancy looked him up and down, then crossed her arms. "It's almost like you have faith in him or something."

Eddie couldn't describe what he was feeling. He couldn't forgive the Harringtons for what they had been doing. But Dustin was right. Unless he could prove that Steve had been directly responsible, it wasn't right to punish him. He could still dislike him, since he definitely benefited from the misdeeds of his family.

And there was a slim chance those hard feelings would ever change.

------------------------

Steve got dressed just in time to hear someone knock on the door.

"Hey, your royal slowness, we haven't got time for you to soak all day. I have actual important things to do."

It sounded like the woman from before. The one who didn't want him. Steve opened the door to her unimpressed face.

"Let's go."

"Without shoes?", Steve asked, looking down his bare feet.

"You won't need 'em."

She led him down the hall, past some windows and Steve got his first glimpse of the outside. It looked...normal. Nothing like the blackened, dead trees, and the dry, salted earth that he'd been led to believe this area was. The trees were wilting, sure, but in the typical way ones did in autumn. There was grass and even people doing chores outside.

Past the castle walls, he could make out something in the distance that looked like a town.

"Keep up!"

Steve tore his eyes away and saw that she was a long ways ahead of him. He jogged to catch up, noting the carpet on the floor. He was suddenly reminded of being very young and still allowed to go barefoot outside his quarters.

"Alright", she opened up a closet that was filled with instruments. "I need these moved over to the other end of the south wing and then polished and shined."

"So you're using a prince as both a pack mule and a maid?", Steve asked, brow raised. "What if I refuse?"

"Then I get our all-powerful king to put a compulsion hex on you and hypnotize you to do it anyway."

"Steve!", Dustin exclaimed when he came around the corner, beaming. "I went down to visit you and you were gone! They set you free?"

"I'm less free and more like free labor, apparently."

"You know you're not supposed to go down into the dungeons, Dustin."

"I see you've met Robin. Don't worry, she's nicer than she looks", Dustin grinned.

"Not nice enough to not tell Eddie what you've been doing. And I'm pretty sure he threatened to tell your mom. Maybe I'll just cut out the middle man", Robin warned.

Dustin paled. "You wouldn't dare."

Robin gestured to the musical instruments. "Help out with this and I won't tell a soul."

Dustin let out a breath of relief. "Menial work? That's it? Between Steve and me, we can knock this out easy."

Steve frowned. "I never said I'd-"

"This spoiled brat probably can't even lift a flute", Robin challenged.

"He knows how to kill a guy like a dozen different ways. Steve could finish this in like ten minutes", Dustin countered.

"Ooh, challenge accepted", Robin turned, ignoring Steve's protests. "I'll be in the second music room. Keep his highness on a tight leash."

Fully roped into it, Steve started hauling instruments. Dustin was talking, but he was thinking of his escape. He had no shackles, no bars. He could find a moment to get past the walls and then...maybe it would be better to sneak to the stables and get a horse first. He dreaded the thought of traveling such a distance with no shoes though. Maybe someone had a pair lying around?

Could he steal a pair in town without anyone noticing? He doubted most townsfolk would recognize him as an enemy prince. Steve was deep in his escape plan strategizing, that he just nodded along and 'mhm'ed to whatever it was that Dustin was saying. That kid could talk to a wall and keep the conversation going, which he was pretty much doing now, talking to Steve.

He barely even noticed that they were done moving things until the woman, Robin, threw a cloth at him.

"I want these shiny enough to see my reflection in them", she ordered.

"Why are you making him do all this?", Dustin asked.

"I'm getting new students tomorrow and they deserve nice equipment."

Dustin's eyes narrowed. "Who?"

"Oh no one you'd know. Except for Mike."

"Mike?!"

"And Max. And El, oh and Lucas and", Robin went on naming people, some Steve knew, others that he didn't.

"Bullshit! There's no way they're all taking classes!"

"Oh they are. And you are too", Robin said while leaving the room.

Incredulous, Dustin followed her out, leaving Steve alone in the room. Alone. They had left him alone. He looked to the open door, leading out into the hallway, then the instruments spread out on tables and the floor, covered in dust.

-------------------

Jeff and Nancy were strolling the halls, discussing how best to prepare for any sort of retaliation when they heard whistling. It wasn't the sound that gave them pause, but where it was coming from. A music room that wasn't supposed to be in use yet. They poked their heads in and saw Prince Steve, whistling a happy working tune while shining a shining a trumpet.

The two of them pulled their heads out, shared a mutual expression of confusion and went to seek out Eddie to report to him, but he was nowhere to be found. That usually meant he was off in town or visiting some other part of the kingdom. Either way, they wouldn't be able to talk to him until he returned.

Steve didn't spend too long rationalizing why he was doing this. He was just biding his time until he came up with a more solid plan. Even though his homeland wasn't really a home, at least no one there wanted to actively kill him. He wasn't safe here and he couldn't forget that. He especially couldn't let his guard down around the king.

Robin remembered him a couple of hours later and led him back to the room he'd first been brought to. Steve had time to actually look at it now. Smaller than his own room but larger than the prison cell. Definitely warmer to. But besides that, it was very minimal and sparse. A bed, a small drawer, and the bathroom. Steve wondered what this room was for. It was an odd sort of guest room.

Robin said something about dinner being brought up but Steve paid it no mind when he realized he'd be sleeping on a bed tonight. He collapsed into it and buried himself in the blanket. He'd be having sleep for dinner.

Part 8

Tag Team

@thesuninyaface @only-evanescent @snakeorsquid @ignoremyworld @theclichefortunecookie @goodolefashionedloverboi @just-a-tiny-void @0body0disphoria0 @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @samsoble @sugartin @jamieweasley13 @y4r3luv @xtkxkrzrizir @un-knownperson @greekgeek24 @justdrugsformethanks @potato-of-the-lord @notaqueenakhaleesi @swimmingbirdrunningrock @queenie-ofthe-void @nebulainajar @lil-gremlin-things

#apo writes #stranger things #fanfiction #steddie #robin buckley #dustin henderson #steve harrington

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kittenintheden · 3 months

Text

Professionals

*boops fingers together and bats eyes @ u*

Rating: E Word Count: 1,650 Content: 18+, roleplay, sex work, biting, blood kink, oral sex, PIV sex

---

Sharess' Caress is busy tonight. A woman stands near the bar, perusing the evening's johns and janes, giving them mental scores based on personality, appearance, and style. She sips her drink, eyes lidded, and turns away a four, then a six, then a seven. She can afford to be picky.

She's making smalltalk with the barkeep when she feels light fingers brush the back of her arms. She sighs and plasters on a smile, expecting another modest offering, but she's met with a full-stop ten. In looks and style, at least. If the personality matches...

"Hello, lovely thing," he purrs, his voice sending a tingle up her spine. "Don't you look delicious. I'm called Astarion. And you are?"

"Very interested in what someone like you is doing in a place like this," she says playfully, lifting her glass to her lips for a sip. The liquor inside stings just right. "But you may call me Lily."

He grins, seductive and predatory, and places a satchel of gold on the bar. "Five hundred gold says I can call you whatever I like, I think. I’ll be honest. I’m a connoisseur, and there are occasions when I’d like to partake in… top-shelf talent. I believe you fit the bill, if my instincts are correct. And they usually are." He tilts his head to the side, daring her to say no.

She gives him a hard look up and down, finally meeting his ruby eyes. She sets her glass on the bar and uses two fingers to nudge the coin purse toward the barkeep. "We've a high-rolling customer," she says to them. They give her a knowing smirk, look over the john, then accept the bag.

"The Chartreuse Room is free," the barkeep says, going back to their mixing.

"After you," Astarion says, gesturing to her to take the lead. She does. As they ascend the stairs, he ghosts his fingers against her lower back. Gentlemanly, one might think, if one’s unfamiliar with the different ways people touch. She is not unfamiliar.

The Chartreuse Room is, predictably, quite green. Bottles of liquor line a shelf on the nearest wall beside a small bar. Lily walks around, trailing her fingertips over the polished wood and leans onto the surface, letting her cleavage rise up enticingly over the top of her corset as she gives him a coy look.

"Could I make you a drink?" she says. She reaches out and teases the neck of the nearest bottle suggestively.

Astarion moves toward her, already undoing the buttons of his beautifully embroidered jacket. He smiles, showing off too-sharp canines. "I didn't come here for a drink, pet. Not of that, anyway."

She shrugs. "Thought I'd offer, nonetheless." She pushes off the bar and approaches, letting her shoulders rustle the strings of glass beads hanging from the ceiling so they tinkle together. She stops in front of him, admiring his bare chest before raising her gaze to his face.

"And what would you like?" she says lowly.

He shrugs off his jacket and undercoat. "Honestly? I'd like to bite. Hard enough to break skin." As he speaks, his timbre drops seductively. Almost like he’s trying to seduce her.

Cheeky man. Cheeky man with expensive taste. She can work with that.

She cocks an eyebrow at him. "Well. That's not one I get often. But, for such a generous patron, I'll allow it."

"Good," he says. Then he's on her, fast as lightning, a hand on one side of her neck and his sharp teeth piercing through the opposite, a jolt of cold radiating through her nervous system. She gasps and grips onto him, surprised, but in seconds she's relaxing into it, eyes going half-lidded as pleasant numbness spreads. Before she goes weak in the knees from blood loss instead of lust, he pulls away, licking her off his teeth.

Blood play. Unusual, but not her first time.

"You are... fantastic," he breathes, dropping his chin and looking at her from under his brows like he wants to consume her another way. "Now... on the bed, on your stomach."

"Yes, saer," she says, swaying on her feet a moment before walking toward the low, round bed, covered in cushions of varying shades of green. She takes her time, lowering herself to all fours and stretching forward like a cat, her back in a deep arch with her arse in the air before she brings it down. Once she's in place, she hears the beads tinkle as he comes closer, then feels the weight of him on the mattress as he puts his knees on either side of her legs.

He leans down over her, not quite touching, and puts his mouth to her ear. "Call me darling," he says. “And I’ll call you whatever strikes me.” Then she feels his fingers at the sides of her hips, undoing the laces keeping her shorts on her body.

"Anything you like if you keep doing that, darling," she says.

He disrobes her from the waist down, pulling every article of clothing from her with aching slowness. Lily bites her lip, desperate to turn and see his pretty face again, but he paid his fee and he's calling the shots. She feels his weight shift lower, his dexterous hands spreading her open and angling her hips, and then she feels his tongue run along her. Instantly, she arches her back with a groan.

"I think that's supposed to be my job," she gasps, pressing her face to the silken sheets and biting her lip as he continues to work her like an expert. "I feel like I should be paying you. Darling."

He chuckles against her most tender of places, giving her another long draw from behind. "Hush. Let me enjoy my night."

She’s certainly not going to argue. A john who gives back? What a rare treat this is.

His hands draw her closer until he's drowning in her, until he shouldn't be able to breathe, and he lavishes her in a way she knows no other customer down below would ever. As her pleasure builds, she squirms against the mattress and he puts a firm palm on her lower back to hold her still, humming every now and again, the sensation making her shiver and cry out.

"Darling," she pants. "Darling, darling, darling."

Finally, she can tell his collected exterior is beginning to crack. At every cry of the pet name, he goes a touch sloppy. As her peak comes closer, he begins to murmur and pant against her as if sensing her heightened arousal, as if it drives him mad. Finally, she screams into the sheets as she comes harder than she has in recent memory, his mouth relentless until she can barely stand it. She doesn’t even have to act. Not a bit.

Astarion rolls her over, his chest heaving and his chin covered in her slick, and crawls over top.

Her head lolls as she gazes up at him in adoration. "What now, darling?" she whispers.

He goes up on his knees to undo his own laces, his arousal clear and present against the material of his fine trousers. He keeps his eyes on her.

"Now I make love to you like you're the only person who matters, Tav," he says, voice like gravel, and she melts clear into the bed. Whoever Tav is, they must be very lucky, indeed.

He's naked and beautiful, lowering himself over her, kissing her deeply. She accepts, circling his tongue with hers, tasting her cunt and her blood and her passion on him. One by one, he unhooks the buttons keeping her corset on her body and tosses it aside.

Briefly, she wonders how she ever managed to score this big. His hand, cooler than it should be, palms her breast firmly and then he's inside her and she moans like a wanton… well, whore.

Astarion kisses her neck, gentle on her sore spot, and sighs out his own pleasure. "You are perfect," he says. "The only one in the entire place I could ever... oh, you make me lose my mind. Tav. Tav."

She wraps her legs high on his waist, seeking better connection, and he angles himself to draw over the place near her entrance, the one that lights her up, and she clings to him like he's life itself. The range of motion in his hips is absolutely maddening in the very best way. He’s fucking her better than anyone else ever could and she uses every single technique in her book to give it back to him.

They rock and thrust against each other. He kisses her. She kisses back. They climb, and climb, and climb together, reaching for the sky.

Toward the end, his facade fully breaks to pieces and he sobs tiny breaths into her ear.

"Darling," she gasps. "Love me, darling."

"I love you," he says. "Always you."

Their mouths press together in open ecstasy as they come one after another, bursting into delicious, whole-body pleasure.

Astarion all but collapses on top of her, her legs spread wide to accommodate him. She gasps in several deep breaths, coming back to earth. Then she breaks into giggles.

"Stop that," he grumbles at her. "I'm a paying customer."

"Oh, that was good," she says, wiping the corner of her eye. "That was a good one. We have to do that again."

He sits up on an elbow, staring at her bleary-eyed. "How many asked before me?" he says.

"At least three," she says.

"Should've been much more than that," he says. "You're top-shelf merchandise."

She cuffs him upside the head. "Well, someone didn't let the scene go on very long, did he."

"We have the room until morning?" he asks, avoiding her accusation.

"So the barkeep told me when I asked."

"Well. Better make it worth five hundred gold, then, shouldn't we?"

#astarion #astarion bg3 #astarion smut #astarion x tav #astarion x oc #astarion x f!tav #astarion x female tav #kitten writes

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linkemon · 8 months

Text

Fatui headcanons 1

Friendly reminder that English is not my first language. You can check my Masterlists both in English and Polish here.

Warning!

Some Fatui have yet to appear in the game, so the characters may deviate from their later canon versions.

La Signora

✧ It's not like she was your mother. The best part of her character died with her lover. But it was hard not to feel anything for the woman who had been your mentor for several years. She personally chose you as her protégé. She gave advice and trained. Always saying that she doesn't know what it's all for because she can never be stopped so that someone like you could take her place.

✧ I let you go with me only because Tsaritsa told us to train recruits. She repeated these words and the like very often. But when anyone dared to question you, she always stood up to them. If any of Fatui's lower ranks dared to talk back to those above them, she would eliminate them without batting an eyelid. But she let you talk back, telling you to know your worth. Her student can't let herself be pushed around. That would be bad for her.

✧ When you heard he was dead, you didn't want to believe it. Perhaps many would have rejoiced at your position but you just felt empty. You knew you could do everything you were supposed to do and you would be honored to serve her majesty but joy was somewhere on the side. The first thing you wanted to know was how and where she died. You promised yourself that one day you would slay Raiden Shogun. It was your duty to avenge La Signora.

Pantalone

✧ You met him before he climbed to the top. He was a poor man with no vision. Over time, he developed an unhealthy obsession with the gods. Why did so many people have visions and the two of you didn't It was unfair.

✧ Together you tried to survive on the street. It was a strange time. Sometimes you starved to death. However, your relationship was not based on trust. Some shared food when it was scarce. You shared the spoils according to the amount of work you put in, with no reduced tariffs. Sometimes you went so far as to steal from each other, bringing less than you needed.

✧ Pantalone was usually better at planning jumps and actions. He taught you some nice tricks, including how to manipulate people. He usually chose easier targets. You were a proponent of force solutions.

✧ When given a chance to climb to the top, he abandoned you without hesitation. You always knew he was capable of this. But it wasn't until it really happened that you realized how hurt you were anyway. So when the Fatui asked you to join their ranks a year later, you agreed. Also to face Pantalone one day when you've achieved a lot.

✧ You first saw him again at your mentor's funeral. He was rarely in your area, so you only heard about him. Everything you wanted to tell him slipped out of your head. You only responded to his polite smile and handshake, then walked away.

Tartaglia

✧ As the youngest member of the crew, he often talked to you. He was very popular with recruits. There have been many occasions when Fatui's seniors have charged him with taking care of you during your training. You were always ranked number one, so naturally he wanted to challenge you. It was an honor, so you didn't even think of refusing.

✧ Over time, private training in the form of sparring entered your blood. When you came under La Signora's wing, you stopped. You already had a new teacher and Tartaglia didn't like your mentor very much. Still, he used to pick on you when he came back to Snezhnaya. He loved teasing you. Especially if you've been sitting on paperwork.

✧ At La Signora's funeral, he sided with you and Arlecchino. He himself knew what it was like to be away from his homeland and the vision of death outside of it was terrible. When he supported you, he looked at you the whole time. After the ceremony, he came over to ask how you feel in your new role and if you want to face him. You knew he wouldn't ask about your mentor but you knew his approach to family. It was kind of his attempt to comfort you, so you went to the training ground.

Il Dottore

✧ You never expected that one of your first assignments would involve working with this man. But Tsaritsa's will is sacred and you were the new Harbinger. You had to adapt. You didn't miss him. It would even be safe to say that he scared you. All the rumors you heard about him were nasty. And, as it turned out later, true.

✧ You were tasked with overseeing the security of his lab in Liyue. He produced machines there but not only. He was fascinated by Abyss. What's worse, he's taken it upon himself to keep you informed of all his steps. For some reason, the Dottore thought he'd do what he could to interest you in the subject. Like it or not, you had to listen. Over time, you noticed that you saw meaning in his words and it scared you.

✧ One unlucky day you had to leave the factory with the entire crew. There wasn't much time. You saved his life when several Ruin Guards rioted at once against him. He just laughed the whole way, running away. He said it would be too weak of an end for a genius like him. You've said a few things that would make more than one of the higher-ups try to kill you. But he just laughed again. You're stuck with him now.

#genshin impact x reader #pantalone x reader #il dottore x reader #la signora x reader #fatui harbingers #childe x reader #headcanons #x reader #dottore #pantalone #ajax #tartaglia #la signora #genshin impact #over teyvat #childe

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carlsdarling · 8 months

Note

Autistic reader x carl headcannons please!

Carl x Autistic! Reader headcanons

Y/N is autistic, but Carl likes her anyway and gets used to it... Some headcanons. Everyone is 18 or over.

WARNINGS: lowkey smut

In the beginning, when you were new in Alexandria, Carl (like everyone else) wondered about your strange and distant behavior. And about the fact that you often hung out with Eugene and had very bizarre conversations with him. About aircraft. Or dead bodies. Or anything else that didn't interest anyone but autistic people. Eugene: "Most people are happy to be invited to a birthday party." You: "Really?"

Accordingly, Carl was offended when he invited you to his 18th birthday party a few weeks later and you said you didn't feel like having a party, that he should invite someone else. Ron, for example. "But he's already invited!" You: *shrugs your shoulders and walks away*.

But since Carl had a thing for you from the start, he doesn't give up and keeps trying to get closer to you and do stuff with you. "All right, let's read the book on autopsies together," you suggested. Carl stared at you. "Are you bullshitting me?"

But gradually Carl found out what your passions were, so he regularly got white flowers for you. And nougat chocolate, perfume and nail polish. You naturally find it hard to form attachments to other people, but you began to grow fond of Carl. He soon became the only person you sometimes wanted to have around for long periods of time.

Carl would spend hours watching you make drawings, one of your talents. You made drawings of all the inhabitants of Alexandria, and Carl observed you with complete fascination. But not when you drew his portrait, because you did that secretly; you wanted to surprise him with it. When it was finished, you went to him and held the picture out to him without saying a word. Carl: "What's that?" You: "I made it for you." Carl (smiling) "That's brilliant!" You: "Yes, it is. I'm good at drawing."

Carl defends you vehemently whenever someone makes fun of your behavior and the fact that you are autistic. "She's just different, not worse than anyone else!"

At some point, you kiss for the first time. You: "That feels kind of weird, your tongue in my mouth. But I think I like it." Carl rolled his eyes, and from then on you guys kissed a lot.

The first time Carl tried to seduce you, you didn't understand what he actually wanted because he didn't tell you explicitly. He asked if you wanted to go to the bedroom. You: "No." Irritated and miffed, Carl glared at the TV again. "Then fine." He had assumed you were ready for this. You were, but he should have asked differently. An awkward silence fell until you blurted out, "Carl, do you want to have sex with me? In my room?" Carl shaking his head, "Yes, damn it. I just asked you if you wanted us to go upstairs." You: "No, you didn't say anything about sex."

The first time you had sex, you analyzed everything and anything when Carl touched you here and there, how his dick looked and felt, how it smelled and tasted, until Carl just locked your lips with his and eventually you just moaned and didn't say anything anyway except "Carl... Carl... Carl..."

Always a challenge: dinner with Carl's family. Uncomplicated conversation is only with Judith, who can't talk much yet. Michonne and Rick are always perplexed by how your brain works and the strange course conversations with you took. Michonne has gotten used to it faster than Rick.

Publicly holding hands with Carl so that Eugene stared at you with his mouth open in amazement.

Tags: @loveforcarl @knochentrocken0808

#the walking dead #twd #carl grimes fanfiction #carl grimes x reader #carl grimes x y/n #carl grimes #carl fanfiction #carl grimes imagines #carl grimes smut

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luvring · 9 months

Note

date idea with Ushijima

Go for hike and get carried the rest of the way to the top because you don't have the same stamina

Or he's new to Poland and he invites you to a restaurant to tast test the original dishes so you order everything of the menu and try to guess the recipe behind it

gn!reader | !!! IT’S TOSHI'S BIRTHDAY!!! >__< gonna talk about both of these. he picks a trail near your house that he's jogged dozens of times before. he makes sure you have water and sunscreen and doesn't at all mind when you ask to be carried. he'll check if you’re comfortable and tells you to watch out for branches…. slows/lets you down when you want to take photos of some flowers or a squirrel…

when you ask if he’s doing alright he tells you he’s fine and not to worry ;; you make him promise to tell you if he gets tired so you can take a break together. he could say he doesn't think he'll need to, but instead he smiles softly and says okay anyway.

! imagine his surprise when there's something set up already for his birthday up there. he's not somebody who's easily caught off guard, so you can't help but feel accomplished when he turns to you with widened eyes.

"surprise!"

wakatoshi blinks, mind still processing. but then he tilts his head, half amused, half genuinely curious. "did you really need me to carry you up the rest of the way?"

"i mean, i was tired. but also i had to sell the act, didn't i?" you smile. "are you mad?"

he lets out a breathy laugh, more a puff of air than anything, before coming closer. "no, i'd be glad to carry you up again if you wanted to come back."

"really? would you carry me down after we're done?"

his initial response isn't a yes or no. instead, he decides to pick you up where you're standing, getting you to wrap your arms around his neck in surprise. the gravel shifts under his feet as he turns to bring you to your set up—a blanket very carefully laid and held down on the corners, with gifts you had bought weeks ago ready to open. "ask me afterward."

also i looked up polish dishes last night while thinking abt this and got hungry. why'd i do that at 1am w nothing but cookies on me... BUT THE IDEA IS SOO CUTE omg he looks up some popular places and reads a Lot of reviews beforehand.. the workers are happy to recommend some popular dishes and think your idea is really nice lolol ^^

soft toshi... holding your fork up to feed him and him doing the same for you while chewing... so cute. cute guy. him furrowing his brows as he tries to discern what’s in the dish and throwing ideas back and forth with you… him softly chuckling when you scrunch up your face because you didn’t like the taste of something. he instinctively reaches to move the plate away and slides your glass closer instead. he asks “didn’t like that one?” as if you aren’t already gulping your water down

and he’s genuinely curious about the ingredients while the workers explain afterward !! he listens especially close when they describe the ones you really enjoyed. like he’s not leaving without making a mental list of which dishes were your favourites.

but also i think it would be so cute if there wasn’t a set plan. like the both of you happen to walk past a cozy looking place and you grab his hand to go in. and even if the food doesn't end up spectacular or anything, the fact that this is the first spot you visit together makes it a special place. depending on how good it is, it could either be a cute date spot every couple of months or a regular spot. picking up some drinks and treats to surprise you for dinner kind of thing ;;

his birthday... the idea that you guys become regulars. you go in and mention it's his birthday soon and ask if they have a good desert idea, or if they could do something special. and yeah of course they'll whip something up for this ?? famous volleyball player who just happens to like their local shop ?? who's a little scary but polite and endearingly obviously (in a relative sense) in love with you.

and i'm not saying the place would see a bunch of new customers because ushijima, a guy notorious for the lack of personal posts on his social media, posted about them and you after receiving a special birthday dinner,, but i'm not denying that idea either (ゝω･)

tangent but i rlly do love the idea of u telling toshi to pose for a picture on the hike or putting a flower in his hair for it .. or him with a little party hat on lololol

@devilgirlcrybabiey @lordbugs @smiithys @xfangirl-trashx @passionateuchiha @scaramouchesfootstool @fifteenshadesofpinkk @chloee0x0 @kenmaslov3r @bakugosgrenade @dai-tsukki-desu @Thathoneybee3 @momoewn @aintgeluh @dazaisfavgf @simpforerenn @crystal-lilac @vhenis @omiigad @kur0-kawa @semispilledcoffee @idontlikeyourjob @awkwardaardvarkforever @rory-cakes @prblmtic @kuroaka @vampyrkookie @sunaslay @h0n3ysgh0st @lackey-laufeyson @bontensbabygirl @dira333 @Kamukayakmonyet @danyisapingu @isentsworld @lilithlunas @anime-ships-gay @todorokiskitten @kellesvt @curiouslilbeast @fiona782 @cvhenia @mitskiologist

#haikyuu x reader #ushijima x reader #ushijima fluff #haikyuu fluff #ushijima! ushijima! yaaaaay #its also aones birthday. HAPPY BIRTHDAY AONE! >___<#i will try to finish the idea for him too. we will see #x reader

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thetrashbinseries · 4 months

Text

— Fahrenheit Part Two ( bangchan x reader )

rated - mature | minors dni

parts - one, two, three

warnings - idol universe, name changed idols, mature themes, drug use, alcohol use, sexual themes, mentions of mental illness, slight angst, explicit smut, 'daddy' and 'babygirl' petnames, light spanking, heated physical domestic argument

x x x

Jake shot me a text as soon as he touched down in his hotel, leaving me to navigate the aftermath of our little gathering solo. I silently cleaned up the traces of the night, letting my thoughts swirl in the quiet aftermath. Shouldn't I be on cloud nine? Chris, I assumed, had already landed by now, maybe snagging his stuff from the baggage claim. Why the resistance to me picking him up? Couldn't he save some cash and avoid those Uber headaches? As I mulled over Jake's words from our earlier chat, a wave of guilt washed over me. If someone messed with my career, I'd probably cut ties too.

But did it have to be face-to-face?

Suddenly, two knocks jarred me, throwing my dogs into their usual frenzy of barks. Now? It felt too soon, like breaking a speed record from airport to doorstep, factoring in landing, baggage, and Uber waits. My motion light, unnoticed until now, flickered on as I was lost in thought. My palms got a little clammy as I fished out my phone, checking for messages from a friend dropping by. But all my friends were back in my hometown.

Unscheduled visits are a rarity out here, that’s part of the reason why I picked such an isolated home.

Scrolling through my phone, the doorbell rang out, setting my pets into a louder commotion. Activating the security camera app, I saw Chris on the screen—dark hoodie, black beanie, and chill gray sweats. Hands in his pockets, a visible exhale, like he'd been holding his breath. Just one piece of luggage, small enough to be a carryon. Skipping baggage claim altogether, I guessed.

Maybe he didn't want to risk airport paparazzi, but at this hour, it'd be a ghost town anyway.

I unlocked the door, slower than planned, giving it a cautious swing open. Stepping back, I left room for him to enter, the question of how to react buzzing in my head. Hug him? Kiss him? Do a little happy dance? God this is awkward. Chris sniffed, a hint of red on his nose, and began shedding his shoes and beanie, shaking out his curly hair. He looked wiped, but it had been ages since I'd seen him without the makeup mask. His eyes told the tale of tiredness, the faint shadow under barely-there brows, and the shifts in his skin tone—all untouched by the glam squad. Even a touch of facial hair peeked through, a secret sign of the real guy behind the polished pretty boy image, something he religiously stayed on top of. All the things that make him very human. The things not many people get to see.

"What changed?" I threw the question at him, arms crossed in the entryway. Our eyes connected for the first time since he rolled in. I caught a flicker in his right eye, a giveaway of stress and insomnia. His tongue darted out to moisten his lips, a nervous move, just enough to reveal a hint of his dimple near his mouth's corner.

Undeterred, I pressed on, "Channie—"

His eyebrows pulled together instinctively, a tough look in his eyes. "Don't call me that," he shot back, a stern expression etched on his face.

Frustration bubbled up, my voice amped up involuntarily, control slipping away.

"What the fuck is your problem? What? Did you catch a red-eye just to come argue with me?"

"Yes! I caught a red-eye fucking flight to—" Chris cut himself off mid-sentence, sucking in air sharply through his teeth, muttering something under his breath in Korean. He ran his hand down his face, eyes closed, releasing a breath before locking eyes with me again. The anger lingered, but it was transforming into something I couldn't quite put my finger on.

I could feel hot tears threatening, but I held them back, jaw clenched, nostrils flaring, refusing to show any weakness. Was this the end?

"Of course, I hopped on a flight to have it out with you. Isn't that what you wanted?" “Don’t you gaslight me Christopher Bang, I’m not your little fucking fans–”

He looked exasperated, hands out, "What do my fans have to do with this?! You said it's simple, am I coming or not? I'm here, just like you wanted, because it's all about you, isn't it?"

I turned away, striding off, the red haze building within me. I wanted to lay into him for talking out the side of his neck like this, but I wouldn't stoop to that level. His voice echoed down the hall.

"Yeah, walk away. It's your specialty—running away."

I halted, closing my eyes, back turned to him, grappling with the urge. I fought it hard; he was on the brink of hitting below the belt. Logic eluded me at this moment.

"I'm going to smoke before I physically violate you."

Attempting to walk away again, his footsteps echoed behind me. Chris wasn't the type to follow for an argument—that was typically my role. I expected him to detour to the kitchen for a drink or something, anything other than what he actually did. His hand seized my forearm, yanking me hard enough to turn me three-quarters around. I saw red, wind knocked out of me as my back slammed into the wall, caged between his big, loud hands thudding against the wall beside my head. A flinch—a moment of confusion. Had he struck me?

Quickly assessing, no parts of my body ached except between my shoulder blades from the impact.

Breathing heavier than anticipated, Chris mirrored the sentiment.

"Physically violate me, then," he uttered, his voice dangerously low, just above a whisper. My body was confused, my brain a tangled mess. His intense gaze bore into my face, forcing me to look away. He tilted his head, compelling eye contact once more.

"It's not rocket science, Y/N."

The phrase echoed from our earlier phone argument, reigniting my hostility. I raised my head, meeting his eyes with a narrowed gaze. "I hate you," I snarled, trying to slip underneath his arm to free myself. Chris wasn't having it; he gripped my wrist behind my back, pressing my chest against the wall. His muscular frame kept me in place, his chest against my back. I twisted my wrist, but he tightened his hold. His breath grazed my shoulder, his words so close to my ear it felt like he was feeding them straight into my brain.

"I hate you too, baby," he murmured. His free hand ghosted the tendrils of hair that had escaped my messy ponytail, tender and gentle unlike the firm grip on my wrist. As his fingers swept the hair away, soft lips pressed against my skin, eliciting a sigh from my lips. Each kiss left thorns of heat, moving along my neck, down to my shoulder.

"I hate you," I repeated, losing my edge.

"Mmm, shut up—I know," Chris replied. Finally, he releases me, his hands finding their way to my waist beneath my baggy sweatshirt. Despite being in my home for a few minutes, his touch is still cold against my warmed skin. I feel a shiver as my nipples harden, and he seems to sense it, cupping them, squeezing. My knees almost buckle as I lean back, my head perfectly resting on his shoulder. Our bodies intertwine, fitting together like a perfect puzzle piece. His fingers pinch the pebbled flesh, drawing a moan from me and an audible sigh from him.

He wraps an arm around my waist, pulling me closer, and I can feel his hardness against my backside. It's not a gradual thing; he's already rock stiff, hips grinding into me as his hands explore my body with a passionate messiness.

What were we arguing about again? Lust swirls, making me dizzy with how good my body feels. My eyes lose focus and regain it with every recovery breath as he squeezes at the extra padding on my hips and waist. No part of my body goes untouched, and I try to shake off my reservations. No, that was a hang-up of mine. Christopher Bang is here to touch, lick, and squeeze every inch that belongs to him.

A tap on my hip brings me back to reality—a gentle reminder between us whenever things heat up in unconventional places.

Against-the-wall activities are actually pretty uncomfortable in real life.

Who knew?

He takes my hand, and I follow him like an excited puppy, almost stumbling over myself to reach his body once we get to the couch. It's my turn now; my hands have a mind of their own too, you know.

Such a soft face without makeup, I'd almost forgotten the hardness of his body—had it become even more solid? My hands run over his abdomen, feeling something different—less lean, more meaty. Usually, I go straight for what's mine, but now I'm curious. Gripping the bottom of his hoodie, I can sense the muscle shirt underneath, so I yank them both off, the scent of his body wash, cologne, and deodorant hitting me all at once, etching the experience into my mind on nearly every sensory level, except for...

Taste.

As his clothes drop to the floor with a muffled thud on the carpet, he turns to face me. His skin is less milky, more sandy tan, and wheat-colored under my warm lights, unlike the artificial ones he's usually bathed in. He must've soaked up the sun in LA, and I can still see it reddening in the places where blood has surged the quickest.

He's completely under the spell of carnal sensuality—deep in the well, unable to see anything around him, becoming the parts of himself he wouldn't dare confront in the daylight. I notice because I pay attention to things like that—I see the way he looks at me, as if I'm his most treasured plaything. His mannerisms change, slower, with certainty in every touch. He says things you wouldn't dare repeat once he's back to his Earth self, lest he deny, deny, deny, laughing loudly overtop of you, or cringing away from embarrassment.

Yes, as I drop slowly to my knees, watching him, I see the way he stands in his masculinity, divine, a god in his own right. Just when I think the moment can't get any hotter or I might combust, I hear him—a puff of air through his nose, a lazy, almost entertained, but not quite—chuckle. His lip quirks ever so slightly upwards.

"You hate me?"

Heat radiates from my body; I'm certain I'm letting off steam at this point. I feel it, especially in my face, fingers wrapped in the waistband of his sweatpants, hanging loosely as I look down, unable to maintain eye contact, feeling regret building up in me. I can tell by the way he says it that he never believed it—but still...

"I didn't think so," Chris' voice answers the unspoken questions in my head. His fingers graze the bottom of my chin, urging me to look at him. "Look at me while you do it."

My engine roars to life without hesitation. I tighten my grip on his sweats, yanking them down with determination. He kicks them off, backing up to sit on the couch, but I'm not waiting. I take the caramel-colored, thick head of his dick between my lips, halting his retreat. The sweetness of his precum floods my mouth, turning bitter as it reaches the back of my tongue and throat. Flattening my tongue against the bottom of his girthy shaft, I open my mouth, letting him rub his sensitive, unsheathed tip against the warm, back wall of my throat.

Obediently watching him.

He likes that, making it clear by placing his hand on the back of my head, urging me to stay while he thrusts further, pulling out just a centimeter to plunge into my throat. Small gasps escape his lips every time my gag reflex spasms around him. I run out of breath, choking backward, and he lifts his hand, allowing me to right myself.

"C'mon, babygirl—thaaaat's it—fuck." Chris grips what's left of my ponytail, guiding me back onto his dick, all the way to the back, with no true mercy. A few more tiny thrusts, and I'm coughing again, my mouth and jaw drenched with slippery saliva mixed with the constant ooze of his precum. He glances behind him, ensuring his seating, then lets himself fall back onto the couch, hand tangled in my thick hair as I wrap both hands around his cock—a pretty, deep brown, a stark contrast to his body tone.

When I start focusing on stroking his sensitive tip, he drops his head back, emitting the most delicious groan. Pulling back on his sheath, dribbling spit onto his tip, I begin jerking him again, taking advantage of the smoothness the extra skin provides. I follow with my mouth, taking in whatever my hands can't reach, and when I start with the suction, another groan escapes him—this time, broken, his hips rising a little off the couch, encouraging me to keep going.

"Oh God—that feels fucking—incredible; don't you—fucking stop." His chest moves with each gasp as I twirl my hand a certain way. I try to stay consistent, but it's been a while, and my neck strains from the bobbing, lips growing numb. But fuck, he's so hot; I don't wanna stop.

I engage in a slow rhythm, savoring the silky feeling of his dickhead against my swollen mouth and eager lips, pressing loud, wet kisses against it. He's lifted his gaze to watch, and I seize the opportunity to run my tongue along his length, exploring the prominent ridge beneath.

"Oh my God—" His head drops back, words and vowels drawn out in ecstasy.

I lean back on my heels, hands taking charge, a twist here, a firm grasp there. When I lean forward and start slurping again, with all intentions of taking this man’s soul—his hips withdraw, and he halts me with a breathless, "Fuck," sounding like he just finished a sprint. "You almost made me cum," He taps my shoulder twice, a signal we both understand, prompting another switch in our silent dance.

I’m more than happy to obey, feeling how wet I’ve become when he pulls my sweats off as I climb onto the couch on my knees, my arms resting on the head of it that rests against the wall. I can feel his hands, now warm, even hot almost against my ass as he spreads me open. I curl my fingers into the couch with anticipation, and then comes the feeling of both of his fingers entering me first. I let out an eager moan, reveling in the relief and satisfaction of being touched by someone so skillfully. He’s curling two fingers, stroking my spot, I can feel his pinky and index splayed against my juicy, wet pussy lips. The filthy sounds amplify as he increases the pressure, prompting me to move against his touch, the base of his hand firmly against my asshole.

“Mmm, baby, you know how much daddy loves to eat this pretty little cunt—but the way you’re clenching around my fingers, fuck I—I gotta feel you.” Chris slows down, he speaks again, reminding me of his proposition, “Is that alright babygirl? Hm? Can daddy fuck you now?”

“Mhm, Mhm!” I can’t think straight, why was he asking? Of course he could fuck me ten ways from Tuesday in a handstand for all I care! Just—

“Fuck me.” I beg, unsure if I meant to finish that thought out loud.

“You’re so fucking sexy, you know that?” The weight of his knee presses onto my leg, his foot securing his position against my other thigh, his thumb against my asshole as I begin to feel his dick stretching me open, eliciting the weirdest, downright feral sound from deep within my gut. He’s raw, and I swore I could feel every vein, every ridge, and his head passing through every sensitive quadrant of my pussy until his balls tickled the lips covering my entrance. It was then that my walls squeeze around him, desperate to feel him move. I could almost make myself cum just like that—I begin moving against him, caught in the intensity of the moment, like a cat in heat, and he’s so deep, I feel him in places that make my eyes flutter.

Thumb leaving my sensitive hole, Chris takes firm hold of the sides of my tummy, rutting into my heat, sending a shiver through my spine that puts me into an arch. He seizes the chance to hold the front of my neck, adjusting me for a slower, more profound connection, exploring every inch of me. It takes a lot of stamina in the legs for this—of course he’s got that. I rest my hand on his thigh beside me, feeling the firmness, digging my nails in as I grit my teeth together, the pleasure overwhelming me as our bodies, beginning to get slick with the fluids between us, rock desperately against one another.

I'm released, and I lurch forward, barely snagging myself on the top of the couch. Just then, I sense it against my left hip—

tap tap

My vision snaps back into focus as I hear him breathing as heavily as I am, flopping down onto the couch. I take the lead, hovering over him. We both gaze as his dick is swallowed up by my pussy, inch by beautiful inch. I let out an incoherent sound, a mix of a grunt and a moan, my arm draped over his shoulder, fingers entwined in the curls at the nape of his neck as he thrusts. My touch shifts from gentle exploration to grabbing fistfuls of his thick, silky, curly hair at the base of his skull. Using my knees for stability, I sync with his rhythm, adding those addictive hip circles that set every part of me ablaze like a pinball machine. The alarms blare, the lights flash – this, right here, is my favorite way to connect with Chris, where we're on an equal playing field.

As we delve deeper into each other's gaze, the intensity heightens, but there's always a moment when one of us surrenders, head lolling back, eyes rolling together. His hands work my hips in rhythmic circles, like a baker kneading dough on a board. Yet, I sense when he's had his fill as he takes back control, lifting me up and snapping his hips into me at speeds that defy reality. My cries become a constant stream, shameless screams of his name, erratic and desperate.

"Yeah, thaat's it—" I can feel my walls softening as my body begins to literally feel like it's filling up with water that’s threatening to consume me any second now. I’m gasping, trying to form the words to tell him I’m almost there, that he can’t stop, or even slow up, he’s got to keep going, I’m certain if I don’t get there, I’m going to die.

“D-Daddy, don’t—” I can’t say anything else, I can only hope he gets it.

And he does.

Chris always gets it.

“Gonna stop---all your bitching, hm?” He’s holding my waist to allow me the freedom to focus on my impending orgasm. “Gonna let me do my fucking job from now on, yeah?” “Mm--yeah!” “Say it,” “Chris!” I whimper in protest, “I’mma s-stop fucking---bitching!”

“That’s my girl.” He slaps my ass, sending a shock through my body, but before I can recover, he strikes again, and again, and my body becomes quickly hyperstimulated. I start letting go, my breath held hostage in my chest as Chris lets out a stream of curses, hitting his peak and spilling inside of me. I can feel it, it’s carrying my climax out even further, and when I finally collapse, with him still inside, I can feel my entire body buzzing, and I’m muttering something that doesn’t make sense to myself or him.

We're both catching our breath, heart rates settling down, but Chris finds joy in this aftermath. He chuckles, his fingers tracing lazy circles on my lower back, exploring the dimples above my tailbone. "What are you saying?" he asks.

"I love you. I love you, and I never want us to breakup. Ever," I say, more composed now, my cheek resting on his shoulder, eyes closed, the pull of sleep threatening to take over like it always did after a proper orgasm. His arms wrap around me, securing them with a grasp on his own wrist. I feel a sense of security.

"I love you too. I didn't come all this way to break up with you," he reassures me. I lift my head, likely with my hair wild and untamed.

"Really, Channie?"

He laughs. The nickname is cleared for use again. He kisses my lips.

"Of course not. Why would I cross the country just to break up with someone? That seems like a lot of...effort," Chris continues. He tilts his head back to gaze at me, tucking his chin in. Once he sees my focused attention, he looks ahead as he talks. "I want to be with you, or I wouldn't have made you my girl—"

"You didn't," I interrupt, sitting up. I pull away from his lap, wrapping the knitted throw over myself as I nestle into the couch beside him.

He looks puzzled, "I didn't? Really?" He shrugs, raising his brows. "I always thought you were."

The relief floods in.

So, we were on the same page.

Curiosity takes over, and I inquire, "When did you start thinking of me as your girlfriend?"

"Mm." Chris looks up in thought before locking eyes with me again. "The first time we had sex."

I'm taken aback by the memory. It wasn't a smooth ride, ended up in a heated argument. "When I got caught outside the building after our studio session? Chris, you almost jeopardized your whole career after that."

Chris tugs at the blanket's end, and I hand it over. As he slides underneath, he takes my foot into his lap, rubbing circles into the center. "That's not how it works—don't get me wrong, it was... difficult. It still is, which is why I couldn't just decide to show up when you asked. I've been allowed, by contract, to date for a few years now."

"Then why are we sneaking around like you're ashamed of me or something?" I hug the blanket tighter, feeling exposed.

Chris seems thrown by this revelation. "Ashamed of you for what? You're beautiful, talented. I don't—did I give you that impression, babygirl?" He shakes his head. "I'm protecting you. You've just been signed to a major label, and we've got a good thing going, yeah? Why mess it up now when we can wait for things to level out for the both of us?"

He makes some valid points. It's reassuring to hear he's not ashamed of me. I start to feel the familiar peace his presence brings. It's been four months since we were last in the same country, let alone the same city. I grew impatient after he came in on business and then left again, making excuses not to see me. That's why this time, I escalated it and added pressure.

"Level out, what does that mean?" I ask. Chris sits back, mindlessly running his thumb over the pads of my toes while looking at the coffee table's candle.

"I think we'll know once we both get there." He looks up to me. "I'm sorry, babygirl. I wish I had a better answer for you right now." He sounds sincere enough. I believe him. He's given me no reason not to trust him before, right? His fingers stop on my soles, and he tilts his head slightly, eyes narrowing as if trying to see something better. He leans forward, picking up the knitted beanie near the ashtray.

My heart drops when I realize what it is.

But why? I didn't do anything wrong. RIght?

"This new?" He turns it around on his hand. "Where'd you get it? I like it."

Caught in the moment, I blurt, "A gift." I reach forward, taking it before he can spot any stray hair that doesn't match mine. He's not checking that closely, at least not yet. I turn it over in my hands. "I've been keeping it cold in the house, so it helps keep me warm," I say, tossing it onto the beanbag chair. I turn to him, nudging his shoulder as I scoot closer.

"Sooo, how was KCON?" - fin

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