Word Count: 2600+

Word count: 2600+

Warnings: swearing, otherwise mostly fluff

Part XXVI | Part XXVIII

Next few days it rained just as Tamlin had predicted. Thanks to him you had enough food, the only problem was the fast running out herbs. Not wanting to go out, it was a great chance to practice your magic abilities. High Lord always sat down with you, watching over you. Whenever you had trouble, he offered advice. It wasn't easy after so many years of not using your powers, but it was fun and the two of you laughed a lot when things didn't turn the way you wanted them.

Except of that there was nothing much to do. You couldn't go out and moreover as a result of your reckless run in the rain you caught a cold, so looking out the window and wishing the downpour finally stopped was all you were allowed to do.

Tamlin banned you from the kitchen, making you sit whole day in front of the hearth while he took care of everything. Including you. He wouldn't even let you go up the stairs on your own. You suspected that if he wanted he could cure you with a single snap of fingers, but for some reason he didn't want to. But you couldn't complain at all.

It was pleasant to have somebody to care for you, especially when they did it with such love. Every refilling of your mug was accompanied by kiss on crown of your head and kind smile. Every fixing of the blanket or handing you a book, got you a soft, sweet kiss on cheek and gentle caress. No need to say that you actually spent more time sitting on his lap than on your own. Your chest swelled every time Tamlin slipped into your armchair, pulling you to his strong body.

Bad weather also gave you a lot of time to talk, to really talk about things that bothered you. You patiently listened to his life story, about his family, years in father's army and everything that hurt him while Amarantha pushed him to sacrifice his friends, made him watch the death of so many innocent lives right before his eyes and then just for fun tortured girl he liked and even killed her. He told you about what happened after Amarantha died, all the nightmares that haunted him for months, the echo of the crack of neck that followed him every second of every day. He intentionally skipped the part about your brother being an ass, but you already heard about it from Feyre.

You knew he didn't want you to pity him and you tried not to, but it was hard. You reassured him that he did all he could to protect his Court and held him when you were short for words.

When it was your turn to share pieces of you, well, you didn't have much to say. Your family wasn't perfect, but it wasn't as bad as Tamlin's. Your mother, cousin, brother and his friends made sure you had a quite happy childhood and the only really bad, traumatic thing that happened to you, was the night you lost your mother and your memories.

"Tamlin, I want to thank you," you whispered into the crook of his neck when your tears finally dried. He was gently rocking you while drawing circles on your back with his warm hand. "If it wasn't for you, I would be dead."

He shook his head dismissively. His body was tense as you shared what you saw that night, his jaw still clenched, tips of his claws slightly jabbing the skin of your hip where he held you. You couldn't see his face from this angle, but you could imagine his frown, cold emerald eyes full of hate and rage gazing into the dancing flames. He looked like that when he told you about his father and brothers. All those years when he tried not to get in their way, keeping it low to survive, left a lot of hatred and anger in him. "I could do more. I-"

"You did enough," you stopped him. "I'm alive just because you were there. You aren't responsible for whatever happened to me afterwards."

He looked down at you in disbelieve. "I knew they had somebody in dungeons. I should have done something, help you escape."

He leaned to the side, putting as much distance as possible in between you which wasn't much in your current position. His hands fell to armrests, claws fully slid out. "It doesn't matter what they would have done to me."

"I thought that we already talked about this, but never mind," you spoke calmly with a soft sigh. "Let's say you went down there and helped me get out. What would have happened to you after that? They would have punished you or even worse."

"It matters..a lot.. To me, it matters.."

He watched you out of the corner of his eye and then sighing pulled you into another hug. He looked defeated.

"We can't change the past, Tamlin. But I'm glad you didn't go down there to find out what your father was up to. If you did, I might have never met you again. And we wouldn't be here now, holding each other."

At that moment air crackled with static energy and Rhysand winnowed in.

"Horrible weather," he grunted, shaking drops of rain from his cloak. Last few days he was too busy and only sent you messages. You didn't expect him to appear anytime soon.

Rhys looked around, his gaze fell to you watching him with wide eyes from Tamlin's lap. He froze in shock, his face colour changing from warm tanned to white and then to red.

"Hands off of my sister," he hissed. "Just a few days! I don't show up for few fucking days and you already dare to touch her? Like this?"

Tamlin sighed looking away and without a word began to gently push you from his lap so he could stand up. You knew he couldn't stand your brother's visits and rather disappeared on the second floor, but you needed to put a stop to this stupid situation. You clung to him, holding him in place. He raised a brow at you, but you only smiled at him.

"You didn't knock," you said in sweet voice to Rhysand whose eyes were jumping between you and High Lord of Spring.

"What?" He sputtered angrily.

"Do you remember when we talked about finding happiness?" You were calm as you looked up at him. His talons scratched the walls around your mind and you let him in.

What does this mean, sweetheart? I'd love you to stand up. Now.

Rhys, I'm happy.

You could feel flush spreading on your cheeks. Talking about this kind of feelings was something you'd never done with your brother nor he mentioned his lovers to you in the past. It was probably the only border you two kept intact.

What?! With him? You can't be serious. If you want a High Lord we can try to figure something out. But you.. and him.. Rhys' voice in your head was almost pleading.

I don't want a High Lord. I don't care about such things at all and you know that very well. I-.. I have feelings for him, Rhys. Do you.. understand? He might be my happy ending.

Admitting this much, you were too shy to even look your brother in eyes.

Meanwhile Tamlin stayed still, watching you with concern. Hands that he respectively put on armrests in presence of your brother, inched closer.

"Everything okay?" he murmured, so only you heard him. You nodded.

Rhysand left your mind and silently considered something. Hands at his sides curled into fists, his knuckles white.

"Can I have a word with you?" he asked Tamlin after a while. He frowned at him, but nodded. This time you let him stand up, watching as the two stepped out into the rain. You couldn't help it and sneaked closer to the front door. Through window you could see Rhysand pacing in the rain back and forth, fingers running through his already damp hair. Tamlin stood on doorstep, arms crossed on his chest, his back to you.

Rhysand stopped pacing and turned to him. "Do you like her?"

Tamlin nodded.

"C'mon," Rhys grunted, rolling his eyes. "I mean, do you really like her? No games, no.. getting back on me or something like that..?"

He again only nodded, no words. Rhysand stared him down, gritting his teeth.

"I love her, Rhysand," Tamlin finally spoke so lowly you almost didn't hear him over the sound of rain. "She is my everything."

Your heart swelled. He said that he loved you. Aloud. You talked a lot these last few days, but except of the 'I like you' he told you before, he hadn't expressed his feelings so directly. It was all just small lovely gestures here, soft kisses everywhere except of your lips there. Hearing him to express his feelings so openly brought tears to your eyes.

"I really hope you mean it," Rhysand snarled threateningly. "If you ever even try to think about hurting her-"

"I know. You'll find a way to revenge. I already heard that once before."

In a blink of eye Rhys stood in front of Tamlin, fisting the front of his shirt. His violet-blue eyes shone dangerously. "I'm not joking. Your kin already took me whole my family. She is the only one left. I won't silently watch her being used, hurt and thrown away by any male."

"I will never do any of that," Tamlin hissed in answer, his chest vibrating with growl, but otherwise he hadn't moved an inch, glaring down on your brother. He was just a few centimetres taller than him, but his frame was much sturdier, especially his upper body.

"Good," Rhys released his shirt still glaring at him and stepped back. "You better remember that."

Then he looked straight at you. See you next time, sweetheart. If anything, send me a message. You know how.

"Take very, very good care of her, Tam. She is the most precious person in the world." And with that he was gone.

Tamlin shook his head and grunting something under his breath he opened the door. As soon as he was inside, you rushed to him and squeezed him in firm embrace. Without thinking you stood up on your tiptoes and your lips landed on his. He went rigid, eyes widening.

You realized what you'd done and in shame started to pull away. Tamlin's hand clasped the back of your head and holding you in place his lips parted slightly and brushed over yours. So slowly, he claimed them in tender kiss, not rushing anywhere. Heart thundering in your chest, you kissed him back.

After a minute or two when your lungs burned with lack of oxygen, he broke the kiss and looked down at you, all flushed with glazed eyes. His fingertips brushed away an unruly strand of hair from your face, sliding down to your jaw.

He moved so fast you didn't see it. His next kiss was nothing like the first one. It was wild and hot and needy, war of lips, teeth and tongues. He kissed you like a starving man, devouring and exploring every inch of your mouth, sucking out all air from you.

One of his hands travelled down your body to your hip, his fingers digging into your flesh. You moaned into his mouth drawing a growl from him. Your back arched, chest brushing against the chest. There was no time to take a gulp of air and you were starting to feel light-headed.

Before you could pass out he pulled away, leaning his forehead against yours, eyes closed. Both of you were heaving heavily, lips swollen.

"Gods," you whispered and he laughed, his breath fanning your face. You were drunk on his scent, now suffocatingly stronger.

"You taste like strawberries." He pecked your cheek, lips trailing to your jaw and down the column of your neck to the shoulder. He didn't miss even that sensitive spot under your ear. You bit on your lower lip, holding back another moan.

"Say it again," you pleaded breathlessly.

"What? About the strawberries?" he smile into your skin.

"No. What you told to Rhys."

"Aah, you mean that part that I won't hurt you."

"No, not that."

"Then what?" He was teasing you while his lips and hands explored your body.

"You are such a tease. The other thing you told him."

"Hmm," he pretended to think about it, his mouth slowly returning back to the spot under your ear. He licked the sensitive skin and lightly nipped at it. The moan escaped you before you could stop it. "You mean the 'love you' part?"

You hummed in agreement, unable to think straight with his soft lips playing with your earlobe while whispering words in hoarse deep voice that made your toes curl.

Tamlin stopped teasing you and scanning your face with interest, he waited until you opened your eyes and focused. He caressed your cheek with feather-light touch, fingers barely touching you. The other arm held you firmly to his body. You could feel every shift of his muscles. Bright emerald eyes found yours.

"I love you, Y/N," he said little nervously. "From bottom of my heart, I love you."

Your heart skipped few beats and you closed your eyes again. It wasn't the first time somebody confessed to you, but this was so different. It felt so right as if you were born only for this, waiting for him your entire life.

You ran your fingers along his shoulder blades, ends of his golden hair tickling your knuckles. You inhaled deeply and found his gaze.

"I love you, Tamlin," you breathed out.

"Thank the Mother," his tense shoulders relaxed a little, "I already thought you won't say it."

You huffed amused. He leaned down and gave you a peck, licked his bottom lip and gave you another and another and soon you were kissing again. His chest vibrated with growl.

"I dreamt about this so many times, but it's actually much better than I imagined."

"You dreamt about this?" You quirked a brow, nuzzling to his neck.

Muscle in his jaw flexed. "I did. Every night when I couldn't sleep, I tried to imagine holding you like this and kissing you."

You giggled. "Liar. You made it up now."

He laughed, the sound echoing in that broad chest of his. You snuggled to him even closer, enjoying the beautiful sound. "No, I didn't."

You blushed so fiercely you were glad he couldn't see your face.

"Shouldn't we make some dinner?" you asked after a while.

"No," his hands nestled on your waist. "You should go sit down and wrap up into blanket while I prepare something to eat."

He started to gently push you back towards your armchair.

"Nooo," you pleaded. "I sat all day long. I want to do something too."

"Fine," he cooed adding a log to fire. He snapped fingers and a tome fell into your lap. You immediately read its title, your fingers already prickling with curiosity. "Will you read to me while I cook then?"

"Seriously?" You pouted. He just nodded, chuckling. He knew you loved reading and used your weakness against you, knowing you wouldn't be able to resist. You opened the book on the first page, eager to find out what kind of story Tamlin chose and started reading it aloud.

You only stopped to eat and then Tamlin took the book and read to you until you fell asleep on his lap. Marking your progress he put the book aside. Carefully he picked you up and carried you to the bed. Throwing the blanket over you, he snuggled up to you, kissed your forehead and smiling fell asleep.

Taglist:

@impossibelle @sevikas-whore @b0xerdancer @ladylizzieofdarbyshire @tele86 @mybestfriendmademe @nocasdatsgay @yunloyal @nebarious @isabiss @st0rmyt @lilah-asteria @ubigaia @paleidiot @acourtofimagines @harahettania @talesofadragon @ceoofyearning @little-nightowl

Any Weight - Idia

Author Notes: So I really didn't know what I was going to post today in terms of oneshots, so this happened. This fic has been sitting my google docs for quite while and honestly started out life as practice for writing Idia. I wrote this and edite it while listening to the song "Heavy in Your Arms" by Florence in the Machine. As per usual, reader is gender-neutral. I hope you enjoy!

Type: Gender-neutral reader/ sfw/ fluff with angst/ comfort/ romance highly implied/ Spoilers for Ignihyde Chapter

Word Count: 1539

Idia shifted slightly as you leaned against his back, reading some book as he farmed one of his games. And in easy, quiet moments like this, with the weight of your body resting gently against his, feeling like a silent but ever-present promise, it was easy to forget the truth of his situation. Of his life.

But Idia was cursed. It was a weighty, but simple truth that had hung over his head for his entire life. Because he’d never known a life where he wasn’t cursed.

Idia was cursed to remain chained to the Island of Woe, to S.T.Y.X., and to guard the remains of those who’d fallen prey to their own magic and dark thoughts, just like he almost had back when you’d come all the way to S.T.Y.X.’s headquarters after Grim and your friends.

Idia was also cursed to never be able to feel darkness’s embrace, which could hide even the greatest of shames, until the light inevitably came. Because his hair always shone that cold blue light on him. Never letting him hide away from the gaze of all those who looked upon him in horror or disgust and saw all of his many flaws.

Idia was even cursed by his own personality. Unable to tolerate being around others without shutting down and drowning in their silent gazes. Judgmental, fearful, and sometimes pitying, no matter how he felt about it.

It was disgusting, infuriating, and so many other things that left him filled with ire towards anyone and everyone who didn’t understand him or his life. If they were going to gawk at him, then he would mock them for their naive, stupid views, and avoid them. There was no use in bothering with people who would never care.

After all, his life had been decided for him from the very moment he’d been born.

And all of those reasons, as well as so many others, were why he’d pushed you away initially. A laughable thought now, considering you were sitting on his bed, with your back pressed to his in a gentle reminder of your presence that, rather than causing him to tense like so many did, made him relax into the silence that rested easily between the two of you.

But when he’d first met you, he never would have imagined this. Not with how you’d seemed so strange. 

A weirdo, to be sure, with the way your gaze had never held that crushing weight that threatened to smother him that so many others had.

Some person from another world who apparently had far greater concerns than a flame-haired freak that lived in some other dorm. And, to an extent, Idia had been able to respect that.

It had quickly become obvious that you were more than just a weirdo, though. If nothing else, you were capable of handling and surviving numerous overblots. And even as he was getting to know you, it had already been clear to Idia that you were capable of so much more than him.

And that was still clear to him even today. Because if he was a curse, then you were more akin to a blessing.

A blessing who stepped in and stopped overblots from destroying their victims rather than studying the remains of those who were already done for.

A blessing who could see people at their very worst, and still accept them.

And finally, you were a blessing in that you had a personality that was like a balm to introverts. A person he could just be himself around without having to be surrounded by the multitude of people who’d already noticed your calming demeanor.

In reality, Idia knew you weren’t a blessing. Something so good could never survive in a school like this one. And he’d experienced firsthand exactly how much of a pest you could be.

But even with that knowledge, there were still moments when you were like a protagonist with the way you stood out so glaringly from the crowd.

Of course, Idia stood out from the crowd as well, but never in a remotely good way. 

At odds with this, your only supposedly negative quality was that you lacked magic. And while it did make your life a pain sometimes, you never let it bother you. Not like how Idia let his negative qualities and anything he lacked burden him.

And it was a heavy burden. A heavy burden that Idia knew made him equally heavy and unpleasant to be around. Because Idia was no fool. He knew his presence, his friendship, and even his very existence was a weighty one. He could easily drag a person down to their doom with the curses that trailed after him, like an entourage that couldn’t and wouldn’t go unnoticed.

And all of those reasons, plus a myriad of others, were why your presence here, with him, right now ought to be strange. But it wasn’t. In fact, it was perfectly normal for you to hang out with him in the solace of his room. Sometimes gaming with him, and sometimes just doing your own thing in silent companionship.

The selfish part of him clung to both you and your presence even as he continued to face his game in silence. 

Were he just a bit bolder, it would be easy to imagine himself turning to face you and wrapping his arms around your neck, with his fingers curling around your temple as if they could crown you as he cradled you to him.

But what could he ever crown you with other than the knowledge that you deserved far better?

It was his way of betraying you, and he knew that. His betrayal was one of the reasons he never tried to cross the dotted line that strained to keep you and him from growing any closer. Similarly, it was the reason the silence remained between the two of you as Idia pondered all of the oddities that were your relationship with him.

Because you supported him. Embracing him in your arms like he was weightless, rather than the way he knew he had to be a chain tangling itself around your ankles, threatening to trip you up and drag you down.

But you didn’t let him sink, and you didn't get pulled down by him. 

It was like you were a hero in some tropey anime. Willing to plunge into the very deepest of sorrows and pull him out. Never fearing the chances of drowning in the deep darkness of his curses, but also not shunning the light that revealed all. Good and bad.

Or if you did fear it, you didn’t let that fear hold you back. And perhaps that thought was even more alarming. Because that meant you cared about him enough to not let fear hold you back.

Either way, you seemed to just accept both his good and bad traits. Taking it all on with a smile not unlike the one you’d worn when you’d first forced your way into his life.

You’d shrugged off his moody words and met his gaze with your smiling one, “Nobody’s perfect, and it’s not like you’re the only guy at NRC who has overblotted or has caused me problems.”

You were definitely still a strange one, but Idia could no longer view that strangeness as bad. How could he when you could somehow look at the chains that surrounded him, binding him to his curses and doing their best to condemn him and those he chose to tie himself to, and smile in the face of it all? 

But as frustrating as your strange but oddly charming weirdness was, it made him want to do better.

To support you just like how you supported him. To let you know that even in this world that was not your own, you weren’t alone.

If you could willingly walk into that never-ending light that constantly showed his every weakness to the entire, unforgiving, and uncaring world, then he would hide you in the darkness and carry you when it hurt too much.

Because he knew it hurt, even if you hid it well with that smile that only seemed to truly fail you when you were facing an overblot or when the mention of your home came up.

Even if you were strong enough to carry him and all his curses, Idia knew it hurt and that the nights were long for you. 

In fact, it was obvious to him.

Because that weight you carried was why, even after having made friends and forged yourself a family, you still sought your own world. And he recognized that weight’s presence. How could he not when he was all too familiar with carrying a burden all his own?

But you would never be too heavy for him. Not when he was used to carrying the weight of his own curses.

He could carry you, and you would never drag him down. In fact, he doubted your feet would ever even touch the ground. Because, just like how the weight of you leaning against him was more of a comfort than a burden, he knew that, if it was you, he could carry any weight.

I just know that I'm going to love this one 🥺🥺

Ghost of Love

Word count: 3600+

Warnings: mentions of blood, body remains; reader is from Hewn city (I believe that says enough about what to expect here)

Note: I'm posting this just because I'm curious if there would be anyone interested in this story. There won't be next chapter any time soon, not until the rest of Heal me is up. Hopefully I won't need to pretend it's oneshot😮‍💨

Declaration: I hate dancing and have zero knowledge about it, so excuse the lack of description or any vagueness in that part. I tried to look things up, I swear, but the unstoppable rolling of my eyes made it hard to focus🤷

Dividers by amazing @tsunami-of-tears

Part II

A male slowly stepped out of the darkness, the pale face lifted up. His amber eyes found yours, gazing straight into them with hate, all-consuming fire blazing in his irises. His unbounded long red hair flew around him, dancing in the air as flames. He was scary but handsome. Then his mouth twisted into a sadistic grin came in focus and you cried out in fear. His white teeth were covered in blood, streams of it running down his chin, dripping on the front of his shirt.

Blood was dripping even from his long fingers with sharp nails of predator. Down at his feet lay remains of a body, pile of flesh and broken bones, burned so badly that nobody could recognize the person whom it belonged to.

His grin widened and he suddenly dashed forward towards you, his hand reaching for your throat.

You jolted up in dimly lit carriage, cold sweat covering your body. Thankfully, you were all alone and nobody saw you or heard you. This nightmare haunted you almost every time you closed your eyes ever since you were told that you would marry a new High Lord of Autumn Court.

You were born and raised in Hewn city, the cruellest place known to fae world where it was lucky to be born as a male. Unfortunately, you were a female which meant that you were a toy in hands of your father who was just as brutal as that whole place.

You'd spent most of your life in your room without windows, allowed to come out only when you were called or needed. You'd never seen a daylight until this day. Growing up you were often punished whether you did something wrong or not, because you were just a weak female, a possession that could be sold if the offer was high enough. That's how you ended up betrothed to the Heir of Autumn Court on the first place.

You didn't know why you were chosen. You had never spoken with him nor met him in person. You saw him only from afar when he came to Hewn city to negotiate with Keir and later at a ball organized by your High Lord where he danced with one of the High Lady's sisters. It was quite an interesting show and he seemed to be smitten by her.

You watched that all from your dark alcove where you were exposed for the chosen ones but otherwise hidden from prying eyes of others. You weren't allowed to participate directly. You weren't even allowed to talk with other guests. The ball was a market and you were the goods.

However, the horrific rumours about the Heir got to your ears nevertheless. You heard all stories about his cruelty and punishments that he loved to deliver, and later even the stories about how he killed his father and became a High Lord. None of them was a good one, but he wasn't judged here. In Hewn city, he was admired for his rigour. Every male wanted to be like him, every female either feared she would catch his eye or longed for that.

You, for sure, didn't belong to the second group. You didn't want to get married at all. All you dreamt about, was freedom, the possibility to go and do whatever you wanted, but that was out of question for you. You were just a puppet that danced only when a male pulled the strings. Now you were a property of your father who had planned to sell you for the highest offer from the day you were born, and soon enough you would became a property of your husband. You were nothing, you didn't count.

You were aware of the offers that piled on your father's desk. They started coming when you turned 15, but your father had waited. You didn't know what he did or who he spoke to, when suddenly a marriage proposal came from Autumn Court soon after your 18th birthdays. He didn't hesitate this time and immediately accepted. He couldn't get any higher offer than from the future High Lord himself, could he.

If you thought your life was a torture before, after that it became a hell. Whole year you spent learning all kinds of manners that wife of male with such high position had to know. They taught you what your place in the court and in the private would be, what you had to do to keep it, they beat it into you, breaking you again and again until there were no errors and you were perfectly submissive.

You also had to become an outstanding dancer because your future husband seemed to have a special interest in dance. Even now your toes were still bleeding into your shoes as your last lesson ended right before the departure.

In every aspect you had to be perfect and worthy of High Lord of Autumn. Lady of Autumn Court, your future husband's mother, was given to you as a model of such a perfect wife. Quiet, obedient, representative, beautiful.

Perfect doll to be ruined by her husband when no one was looking.

You feared the future but you had no choice.

You slightly moved the curtain to look out and see the bits of the country behind the window. Because of the nap you lost track of time. Your heart squeezed in dread when you found out you were already in a forest full of red and yellow and golden brown leaves. You had never seen an autumn foliage with your own eyes, but even you with your limited knowledge knew that these were colours of Autumn. You were getting closer to your final ordeal.

It took another hour or two and carriage stopped. Before you could reach for the doorknob, the door flew open and your father's always angry face came to view.

"Get out now," he ordered. He seemed to be in quite a good mood today.

You immediately moved closer to the door and get off. Your heels clicked on the sandstone in the courtyard of a beautiful castle, but you had no time to look around as father shoved you to the entrance. Bowing your head, you submitted.

At the gate you were welcomed by High Lord's advisor, a male with rather a cool demeanour, and some maids who took you to the chamber where you were supposed to get ready and wait until the ceremony began. You didn't bother to even try to lift your gaze, you were too scared to look at people directly. Whenever you dared to look at someone, most of them had no face in your eyes, only an empty mask. You distinguished people mainly by their voices.

You felt your father staring after you coldly as you silently followed the maids, his gaze felt like a sharp knife poking into your back. You were scared he would follow you because you were his priced ticket to wealth now, but soon he turned around and walked away with the advisor in the opposite direction.

Maids were quiet and quick as they helped you to bath and dress. They skilfully braided your long hair into a complicated hairstyle, attached the veil to it, letting it fall down and cover your face. When they were done, with a slight bow they left.

You let out a breath that you didn't even know you'd been holding the entire time they were hopping around you. Nobody bothered to inform you how much time you had left, but it didn't matter anyway. You couldn't run away from your fate.

You were sitting at the vanity table where they left you, looking at the ground as you were taught, your mind empty. You couldn't even mourn the life that you never had and never would have. They successfully turned you into a puppet, a blank canvas ready for your husband to paint on.

Soft knock sounded on the doors and a female's voice called that it's time. You slowly stood up with bowed head and stepped out from the chamber. Small maid led you through corridors and halls to a chapel.

You'd like to look around, wanting to see at least something of your wedding day worth of memorising it, but your father was already waiting for you, angrily tapping his foot.

"Good for nothing as usual," he grunted. "How long do you think we have to wait for you?"

"I'm sorry, father," you said in a small voice.

"Speak properly! You are like your mother, useless. Thankfully from now on, you will be your husband's burden."

He offered you an arm and you immediately took it not wanting to make him any more angry. Together you got ready at the threshold and as music started to play you stepped inside.

The chapel seemed to be quite spacious, full of warm light and crowded with guests. As you walked to the altar you caught glimpses of gold, yellow and white decorations. Your father halted, a pair of shiny black boots stepped closer. Out of the corner of your eye you saw that your father was smiling kindly. You were shocked. It was the first time you saw such expression on his cruel face.

Your father said something to that male and he answered. Your heart was beating so fast and loudly that you hardly heard the music. Father took your hand and offered it to the male who surprisingly gently accepted it. Fingers that wrapped around yours were pale and long just as in that nightmare, but instead of icy cold you felt warmth seeping into your skin. Your father stepped away, leaving you with this male. The transaction was apparently successful.

"Can we?"

A deep voice spoke lowly, snapping you out of the new kind of darkness that began to pull you into its void. You inhaled sharply. It wasn't that deadly voice that haunted you in sleep but a quite pleasant, rich one that felt like a warm blanket, a liquid honey flowing into your ears that were used to only harsh words. Rich aroma of spicy cinnamon and apples roasted on fire filled your nose.

You nodded, still not daring to look up. He led you to the altar where a priestess was waiting for you. As you stood before her, he turned to you one more time. His fingers touched the edge of the veil, lifting it up. You kept your eyes down as you were taught.

"Look at me," he commanded softly.

Carefully, inch by inch you raised your eyes, taking in first his trousers in cream colour, then his elegant tailored moss jacket with gold details that hugged his chest perfectly. He didn't look like a mass of muscles as the general of Night Court did even though before he had the same rank. Your soon-to-be husband seemed to be rather lean, but definitely a warrior with muscles on right places. And so tall, impossibly tall, that you hardly reached up to his shoulders.

It felt like forever until your gaze finally reached his face. Like in the nightmares it was pale with bright amber eyes and high cheekbones, his nose was straight and lips full. He wasn't smiling, yet corners of his mouth seemed to be twisted in a permanent smirk. In golden rays of sun penetrating through a round window behind the altar, his red hair had a warm shade, and looked so silky that you had to wonder how it would feel to touch them. Now cut much shorter than the last time you saw him, he just casually combed them back, a few unruly strands falling on his forehead.

His eyes roamed over your face, brows lightly furrowed, then one corner of his lips lifted in a half smile. He was handsome, attractive, there was no doubt about it. You expected him to have the cool, cruel aura you noticed before and he didn't disappoint, but as you were watching him for a while, in his eyes there was something you'd never seen before. Perhaps it was kindness, but what did you know. It was just a foreign word to you, something you never experienced.

It was confusing.

He didn't say if he liked what he saw, his expression gave nothing away. He just turned to priestess, signalling her with a nod of the head to begin the ceremony. You allowed your eyes to linger and watch his profile a little longer before your gaze again slid down to the floor. Hardly perceiving priestess's words, you returned to that quiet place in your mind where you felt safe from the world.

When the ceremony was over, Eris leaned down, gazing at you. This was the part when the groom should kiss the bride. You stayed still, expecting him to move, but he was just waiting. You looked up with silent question in eyes. As soon as your full attention was on him, he moved forward and his lips sealed over yours in a tender kiss. Your eyes widened in surprise, breath caught in your throat. You expected anything from him except of this. He didn't close his eyes either, closely watching your reaction.

Eris tasted like honey and some alcohol. It was a strange combination, but not unpleasant. His lips slightly moved against yours, testing the waters and then it was over.

As if nothing had happened he straightened up and turned to the crowd, offering you an arm. You exhaled shakily, internally shouting at your body to move. You couldn't keep him waiting. Your fingers gripped on his sleeve. Still weak in your knees you could only wish that you wouldn't fall down.

His other hand went up to yours on his arm, adjusting it. Holding it firmly he tugged you closer and led you to the ballroom where the party would take a place.

Why did he behave like this? Did he genuinely care? Or did he notice your state and wanted to just prevent an embarrassing incident? He was supposed to be cruel. Everyone said that about him. Was it just some kind of masquerade and later he would make you pay for your mistakes? You were so confused and nervous.

The celebration program was simple. The ceremony was to be followed by a banquet and finally a party. When you came into the impressive ballroom decorated in the same colours as the chapel, the tables were already bending under the amount of deliciously looking food.

Eris led you to the table in the centre, a bit higher than the rest. He held a chair for you and then took a seat on your right. The other chairs were gradually filled as the guests were coming. Your father was seated at the table on your left, giving you a cold stare. Shiver ran down your spine and your heart started to beat faster. You knew that face. Whatever you had done he was very displeased right now.

Your husband inconspicuously leaned closer.

"Is everything alright?" he asked lowly, eyeing still coming guests. Did he hear your heartbeat even over this noise?

"Of course, my lord," you blushed, focusing on your hands folded on your skirt under the table.

Eris' eyes narrowed on you and then his gaze moved behind you to your father. He immediately stopped frowning at you and instead he conjured a pleasant smile at his new son-in-law. Eris made a small displeased noise and looked away.

When everyone took their seats Eris stood up to give a short speech and a toast. You took a goblet with wine but didn't drink. Could not. You weren't allowed to drink alcohol.

After your husband a dark haired male stood up to toast to newly wed couple. As he spoke you recognized the voice of your High Lord.

Nervously you swallowed.

It was unexpected, but not incomprehensible. Of course he was here. A member of his Court married his ally. This wedding was an important political event. There were certainly also other allied High Lords between the guests. The most powerful beings of this country had eyes on you. And your husband? He was one of them. Not an ordinary High Fae or some aristocrat. A High Lord.

Sudden realisation hit you hard and you felt a growing nausea, heart throbbing in your throat.

When everyone was done toasting, silent servants appeared seemingly from nowhere and started to serve the food to the plates. Not remembering when you had eaten for the last time was your last concern. You were too nervous and frightened to even think about the food right now.

Eris seemed to notice that you were just poking the vegetables with a fork around the plate, pretending you were eating as everyone around.

"Isn't the meal to your taste?" he asked with raised brows quietly.

Under the table you clenched fingers into the skirt of your dress. This male could turn you into a pile of ash if he wanted.

"Everything is delicious, my lord," swallowing hard you answered in a small shaky voice.

He just huffed and after a while returned to his plate and the conversation he had before. You bit on your lower lip. Did you offend him? Would he punish you later? You were on the verge of crying. From the other side of the table you could feel your father's angry gaze. Breathing raggedly you willed the tears back and put down the fork. Your trembling hand reached for a glass of water. Focussing on not spilling it's content, you brought it to your red painted lips and took a sip. You needed to pull yourself together, to overcome it. The show wasn't over yet.

By the time the clattering of cutlery has died down, you managed to calm down a bit. Music that played whole the time, got louder and some of the guests moved to the parquet.

Eris turned to you once again, his eyes lingering on your face. He seemed to think about something. For a brief moment his lips pursed into a thin line.

"We have to dance the first dance. It's a tradition," he spoke coldly.

"Yes, my lord."

You already knew that and you were more than ready even though your healing toes still hurt. This wouldn't be the first time you had to suppress the pain and pretend everything was okay. You could do this.

Despite the too high expectations of your teachers and father, you loved dance. It was the only quite funny activity you were ever allowed to do.

High Lord helped you to stand up and led you to the centre of the parquet. The guests created a circle around you.

Eris' warm hand heavily landed on your waist, holding you firmly, his fingers leaving marks on your skin through the corset. The sudden roughness surprised you and you slightly winced. Thankfully nobody seemed to notice it, not even your husband. Taking your other hand into his, you two took a position and started to move at the exactly same time to the rhythm of the song in a small circles. Eyes pinned to his strong chest right in front of you, you performed your best.

You moved gracefully as you were taught, small sparks in your veins slowly becoming a fire, consuming you. After the first rather stiff steps, your body relaxed and you blended in with the melody, becoming the music. The long skirt of your dress was sweeping the floor with every your step, looking like a flowing mountain stream. You loved that feeling. Eris spun you and you made a perfect pirouette so fast that you whirled two times. Someone in the watching crowd gasped in amazement, several others applauded.

If you dared to look up, you would see the fire in your husband's eyes and a wide smile. He was enjoying this, too, more than he was willing to admit.

The two of you started dancing in bigger and bigger circles, your every move faster than the last one. The crowd around had turned into a blurry smudge, but none of you minded. Eris decided to test you by changing the steps and adding figures, and you responded to every change with ease, without a mistake.

As the song was coming to its end, your husband decided to end the dance with a pretty deep dip. Your back arched under his fingers and suddenly you came face to face with him, your noses almost touching. Your eyes widened in surprise.

Two blazing amber eyes were piercing you with genuine interest, wolfish grin on his lips. His usual merciless expression was replaced by something wild, beautiful and kind of dangerous. He was mesmerising. You were definitely playing with a fire when you reached up, tips of your fingers lightly touching his jaw. Eris blinked and it was gone.

He straightened up and you followed, once again scared that you possibly made a fatal error when you touched his face.

Now all the guests were applauding. Looking around his cold gaze jumped from face to face. He didn't say anything as he bowed to you, kissing the back of your hand and then escorted you back to the table. Both of you were still heaving as you took your seats. He grabbed your glass of water and handed it to you. You thanked him to which he just responded with a nod. Then he took his empty goblet and held it out for the servant to fill it with wine. He drummed with fingers as he waited. As soon as the servant stepped back, he emptied the goblet again.

The musicians started to play another song and parquet filled with dancing pairs. When it seemed that nobody paid you attention any longer, without even looking in your direction Eris reached out under tha table, his fingers lightly brushing your arm from elbow down to your wrist. Finding your hand rested on your lap, he clasped it in his much bigger one and held it for the rest of the evening.

mutual understanding

Chapter I | Chapter II | CHAPTER III: As curious as a dead cat | IV | V

PAIRING: Kenpachi/AFAB!Reader CONTENTS: AU - Fantasy, Medieval, Royalty, Arranged Marriage, Misunderstandings, Miscommunication, Pining, Explicit Sexual Content, Virginity Loss. WARNING FOR THIS CHAPTER: Explicit sexual content, Cunnilingus, First time (I think, kinda). WORDCOUNT: 3221

Summary:

You had assumed you would have been intimate with him on your wedding night, and you were hoping that it would happen anytime soon after that first kiss.

Notes:

FINALLY what probably everyone had been waiting for!

Let me know if you wanna be tagged!

header by me, divider by @/saradika

taglist: @actuallysaiyan @lol-ktr @vrgelivvvv @pennameyoruichiii

@hikariandptakchleb @thebestgirlever2

Kenpachi didn’t make any indication of wanting to touch more than you had allowed him to, only sliding his hands up and down your sides, and that was a relief that night you kissed for the first time. 

You started to reconsider it as the days went by.

Spending more time with Kenpachi had actually opened your eyes about a lot of things about him that you had misjudged. He spoked crudely, but he simply did so because it was a part of him (and you figured it had a lot to do with his past; since he wasn’t royalty, he probably never had an education). His hardened expression was just natural as well, it did not mean that he was angry all the time. Better yet, it was actually attractive how stoic he was sometimes. You had been a fool for a long time; he wasn’t as cold, distant or violent as you initially assumed. At least not violent towards you, or anyone who couldn’t defend themselves, and that was all you cared about. 

You had assumed you would have been intimate with him on your wedding night. Even if that didn’t end up happening at that moment, you were hoping that it would happen anytime soon after that first kiss. You weren’t ignorant about what it was supposed to happen, you weren’t even ignorant about your own body. He had awoken certain sensations that you had never felt, and you were more than curious about what it’d be like to actually lay with someone. And nothing as exciting as doing it with your husband when you had newfound affection for him. 

Which made you conclude that you liked Kenpachi more than you would like to admit. Albeit you had jumped to conclusions about him from the beginning; once a little light came through, you saw him differently, and you couldn’t deny it anymore. Especially after you started kissing more regularly, something in your stomach bubbled (besides sexual excitement) every time. And you just wanted, needed, more. 

You eyed him as discreetly as possible whenever he got to the bedroom at night, taking off his clothes as he readied himself to sleep. Callous skin for sure, but with curves and dips and defined muscles, with broad shoulders and ample chest. You couldn’t even help yourself but stare at him; you were as curious as a dead cat, but you wouldn’t mind being dead at all if it meant laying with such a man. He was your spouse, after all. 

Kenpachi walked in later than usual one night. The colder days had crept in, and snow was inevitable to happen soon. You had insisted he take a bath in the bedroom several times, it was warmer than any other room (you wouldn’t admit to any ulterior motives), but he kept denying it for no apparent reason; he usually was ready to sleep as soon as he walked in. 

You stayed in silence for a few minutes, watching him from the bed as he sat down in the chair by the fireplace, taking off his eyepatch and running his hand through his hair before cracking his neck to the side.

“Did you think I had kids of my own?” Kenpachi suddenly asked without even turning his eyes to you, but you couldn’t help but look at him in surprise. 

He was talking about Yachiru and the moment you found out about her. You felt your face heat up just remembering it.

“I had no idea what… what to think, if I’m being honest.” You answered vaguely. 

“You were shocked when you thought I had children.” He said, looking at you with an amused grin.

“Yes.” You finally admitted, blushing deeper. “I knew nothing about you, so I was surprised!”

“You could’ve just asked.” Kenpachi said with a chuckle. “But it was a funny way to introduce yourself to my men.”

“Please, I could barely look them in the eye afterwards.” You replied, covering your face. The sound of his laugh took you by surprise, and it only made you smile. “What’s the purpose of bringing this up now?”

“Didn’t think my wife who didn’t want to marry me would care about that shit.” 

“Any wife would care if her husband was sleeping around!” You complained, rolling your eyes. “Are you mocking me?”

“What do you think?” 

When Kenpachi walked over to you, you tensed up in anticipation. He sat beside you on the bed before promptly kissing you, slamming his lips against yours. He never failed to take you by surprise; he was rarely soft or gentle, usually slowing down after a while, but his kisses were always urgent. You hadn’t kissed anyone before him so you could mold yourself to his pace, but you were positive this was just his own personality seeping through in the way he kissed you. If anything, he was always authentic. 

You were breathless when he pulled away, and you watched him, dizzy-eyed as he stood up to remove his tunic before slipping beside you on the bed. You stared at him expectantly, and sighed when it was obvious when he just wanted to sleep. 

You knew nothing about seduction, so you didn’t exactly know how to proceed; you didn’t want to explicitly ask for Kenpachi to touch you, you had your pride as well. Sighing loudly again, you wished him good night before blowing out the candle in your bedside table, to which he only responded with a grunt. 

It took you a while to fall asleep that night, and you were too tempted to get up and take a walk around the castle but quickly gave up on the idea, too nervous to wake Kenpachi up if you were to get out. Though in the few days you had been sharing a bed, it was almost an obvious fact that he slept like a log; you could play the drums and he would not even notice. 

When you woke up early in the morning, the first thing you noticed was the snow outside the window, covering the sill. You watched, between sleepiness and wonderment, as small drops of snow slowly fell from the sky, stretching your legs along the warmth of the bed. 

“Have you never seen snow?” Kenpachi’s hoarse voice startled you, making you turn to him in surprise. 

“It rarely snows in the palace.” You replied, clearing your voice to avoid sounding too sleepy, and pulling the covers over your shoulders when you noticed he was only covering his lower half with the sheets, bare chest completely exposed. “I’ve only seen snow a couple of times.”

He only grunted in response, and you took a minute to watch his face; you almost never got to see him wake up at the same time as you. His hair was just as wild as it was during the day, you’ve seen him comb it yet stay the same, so it must naturally look that messy. You were fond of that look, it just added to his overall aggressive appearance. 

The scar down the side of his face always caught your attention. Kenpachi was regarded as the strongest man in the kingdom, but who had been strong enough to harm him?

“You’re staring too much.” He said, fixing his eyes on yours. You immediately felt your temperature raise, and swallowed quietly. “Do I have something on my face?”

“Your scar-”

“Well, I can’t do anything about that.”

“No.” You chuckled as he grinned, equally amused. “How did you get it?”

“A woman gave it to me.”

“A woman?!” You raised your voice in surprise. “She must have been remarkable to have inflicted such harm to you.”

“Yeah…” 

When Kenpachi didn’t add anything else, you became nervous, fidgeting under the covers. He was the one who wouldn’t stop staring at you then. 

You gasped when he suddenly rolled on top of you, bracing his arms on each side of your head, looking down at you with eyes that turned darker with each passing moment. The heat emanating from his body invaded you, even through the sheets and covers in between your bodies.

“Are you still unwilling?” Kenpachi asked in a surprisingly cautious tone. 

There wasn’t any need to clarify what he meant when he asked, and you didn’t need to consider your answer. 

“No, I have been… willing for a while now.” You answered, embarrassed yet enthusiastic.

You could have kept talking if it wasn’t for Kenpachi’s insistent mouth covering yours in the blink of an eye. His kisses had always been hungry, as if he was trying to devour you, but you could tell the difference between his usual ones and the kiss he was giving you at that moment. He was excited for you, fervently gliding his lips over yours as his tongue explored the inside of your mouth, swallowing down the little noises you made as he pressed his body to yours. 

That was when you felt his erection pressing against your thigh. If you could feel it through all the fabrics, you couldn’t even imagine what his size would be like. 

Kenpachi only pulled back to remove the covers, attaching his lips to yours soon afterward. He groaned lowly when one of his hands found your chest, groping your breast roughly through your nightgown and making you gasp as you wrapped your arms around his neck. 

Your heart pounded fast inside your chest, too nervous, excited and scared at the same time when he pulled your nightgown over your head, discarding it haphazardly, leaving you completely exposed. The cool air created goosebumps on your skin, and you shivered from trepidation. He stared at you, eyes traveling down your chest and lower, and you felt the need to cover yourself the longer he kept his gaze on you. 

A few seconds seemed like an eternity, and you were about to pull the sheets over yourself when he spoke. 

“You must be a siren sent to tempt me,” Kenpachi grunted, and you looked at him with eyes wide open. “Look what you fucking do to me.”

The air was knocked out of you when he crashed his lips to yours, pinning you to the mattress with the weight of his body, forcing you to part your legs. His erection was much more obvious as he ground his hips against yours, the fabric of his pants creating friction that you’ve never felt before, making you whimper.

Kenpachi dragged his tongue down your jaw and neck, pressing open mouth kisses every now and then as his hands wandered up your sides to cup your breasts. You didn’t know how a simple touch could ignite a fire within you, but when he swiped his thumbs over your nipples, jolts of pleasure traveled through your body, causing your back to arch. 

“You like that?” He chuckled darkly before kissing you, rolling one of your nipples between his fingers. 

Your answer was the whine that slipped past your lips as you tried to kiss him back, a difficult task when you felt his other hand wander down your hips to roughly grab your butt. Kenpachi dragged his lips down your chin and neck until he reached your chest, nibbling at the curve of your tit before taking one of your nipples into his mouth. 

The sounds that came from your lips were strange. You had made noises when you touched yourself in the past but it was different; you felt more vulnerable when such a man was causing them as he sucked and grazed his teeth on your supple skin, surely leaving marks for days. Closing your eyes, you covered your mouth for a second before Kenpach firmly grabbed your wrist, pulling your hand away from your face.

“I wanna hear you.” He smirked salaciously, sending shivers up your spine. “I’ve been thinking about this for too long for you to be quiet. Be as loud as you want.”

Biting on the curve of your breast hard, you squeaked loudly. You blushed, ashamed of the sound you made, and tugged at his hair, knowing fully well he had done that on purpose. Kenpachi only looked at you with dark eyes and a wicked smile, running his tongue over your nipple and making you gasp. 

His lips trailed down your abdomen, making you giggle when his tongue traced your belly button before he got to your hips. He pulled away to part your legs, strong hands holding your thighs, and your entire body burned up underneath his gaze. 

“Why do you keep staring at me so much?!” You yelled in a hushed tone.

“Because you drive me fucking crazy.”

The frenzied look in his eyes and the wide grin on his lips made your heart skip a beat.

Maybe you were going just as crazy for him as he was for you. 

“This part right here,” He went on, licking his lips as one of his hands glided over your entrance, making you yelp. “It’s calling for me. Do you know how fucking gorgeous you are down here?”

“That-That’s not-! I don’t-!” You stammered, embarrassed and in shock the more he kept talking. Did people talk so much when they had sex?

He laughed boisterously at your reaction, and you gasped when his fingers dipped into your folds. 

“It’s your bad luck that you have a lecherous man for a husband.”

When Kenpachi leaned down, burying his face between your thighs, you gaped at him in shock, too stunned to react until his tongue slid over your slit. You whimpered, one hand threading through his hair, unsure of what to do. 

Wet warmth glided over your entrance, and it was strange but not unpleasant. It was as if he was somehow worshipping you, especially with the look he had in his eyes, completely clouded by dark lust as he gazed at you. He dragged his tongue over every inch of skin he could reach, even delving between your folds until you felt pleasure pulsing through your veins when he prod your clit. 

You moaned, long and loud, as your legs shuddered when Kenpachi pressed the tip of his tongue to your clit again. He chuckled smugly, focusing his attention on that spot, and soon turning your brain into mush. He was persistent and enthusiastic, licking and slurping like a starving man, with no shame about the mess he was making. You were completely drenched in your own arousal and his saliva, slowly dripping down your thighs and onto the sheets. 

The sounds that left your mouth were uncontrollable. Even if he hadn’t commanded you to be loud, you still wouldn’t have been able to help yourself. The sparkles that traveled through your body every time his tongue dragged over your clit made you see stars, thighs jolting and attempting to squeeze his head between them if it wasn’t for one of his hands keeping you in place. The heat in your abdomen that had been steadily growing was close to bursting, muscles tightening with every move he made.

When two of his fingers effortlessly slipped inside you, you wailed, tugging harshly at his hair, as if simultaneously asking him to keep going and stop. Kenpachi only laughed quietly against your skin as he started to pump his digits, slow and hard, while attentively licking your clit. 

You couldn’t have warned him about your orgasm even if you wanted to, your mind going blank before you felt your release washing over you. You let out a shaky moan when you came, toes curling and body trembling, nothing but pleasure and his name resonating in your head. Your hips stammered against his face as he kept gliding his fingers until you stopped moving, panting once he slid out his digits. 

Kenpachi pulled away and you watched him lick his fingers, his leer not subduing even when he had your slick adorning his face. Wrapping one arm around your waist, he leaned down, resting his forehead over yours as he looked deep into your eyes. 

“Your taste is so fucking addictive.”

He looked just as feral as he did before, or even more so. You wondered how it was possible that he had the same look on his face as he did when he was enjoying a fight; and how it was possible that it pulled at your heartstrings to see him be like that for you. 

You wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him hard, humming against his lips when you tasted yourself in them. You felt him smirk into the kiss, returning it hungrily as he rubbed his clothed erection over the damp, sensitive skin between your legs. 

Kenpachi hooked his fingers under the waistband of his pants before the booming knock at the door startled you.

“Captain!” Ikkaku yelled while insistently knocking on the door. 

“Fuck off!” Kenpachi hollered, making you jump in his arms. 

“I can’t, Captain! Official soldiers are here!”

“Tell them to get lost!”

“Ken!” You called for him, cupping his face as he looked at you with unfocused eyes. “This is probably urgent!”

“For fuck’s sake, is the kingdom under attack?!” Kenpachi screamed at the door, making you jolt again. 

“No, Captain…” Ikkaku’s unsure voice replied from the other side of the door. 

“Then tell them to fucking leave!”

You laughed, pushing at his shoulders to get him off you, though he didn’t budge an inch, only looking at you with the deepest frown you’ve ever seen. 

“You should go, it must be important.” 

“You can’t be serious!”

When you pressed your hands against his shoulders again, Kenpachi pulled away, sitting up as you pulled the blankets over your body to cover yourself. 

“I’ll still be here when you come back.” You reassured him, wrapping your hand around his arm. 

You kissed him sweetly, just pressing your lips against his briefly, after all it was a small comfort, you didn’t want to tempt him. 

“You better be, I can’t hold back any longer.”

You blinked, surprised. 

Funny. Was he ever holding back?

“Captain!” Ikkaku yelled again urgently.

“Shut the fuck up, I’m going!”

You watched, amused, as Kenpachi sat on the edge of the bed, grumbling under his breath before getting up and putting his clothes on. He only spared you one quick glance before walking out the room, slamming the door on his way out. 

You sighed, covering yourself with the blankets and furs, staring at the ceiling in awe. You were sticky, sweaty and fully drenched in between your legs, and you had an amazing orgasm yet still wanted more. It had been a difficult decision to convince him to leave when you didn’t even want him to in the first place. You wanted to see him fully bare in front of you as he climbed over your body before taking you. Just picturing a scene like that made your insides tingle. 

Was what you just did, sex? You only knew so much, and you couldn’t even believe where Kenpachi’s mouth had been (but you hoped he’d do it again in the future). The main event had been postponed, and while nervousness was still in your mind, a fluttering feeling in your stomach made you excited about seeing him for the next time, the last words he said hanging in the air.

Prequel Part I

Yandere Short Story Series:

Too Late For Remorse

Yandere Cheater Duke x Countess Reader x Duke

TW: murder, yandere themes, cheating (mentioned), delusional behavior, yandere is the villain, etc.

“So you’re breaking off the engagement between my son and your daughter?” Duke Blackburn sat in the chair across from Count (last name). The older Duke delicately held the tea cup in his hand.

“I apologize for breaking the agreement, but my daughter cannot be without a man who associates with the Serpico family.” Duke Blackburn nodded his head in agreement.

“I understand, I’m also not a big fan of infidelity.” It was quite well known in the noble faction that Duke Blackburn’s wife had messed around with many knights during their short marriage. Which worked in Count (Last name)’s favor since Duke Blackburn despised the unfaithful.

Duke Blackburn continued the conversation, “You know your daughter was promised to marry a Blackburn. It’d be a shame to not have such a beautiful woman in our family. I have another son who’s a few years younger than her.”

“Eh, I don’t know if Broderick be a good match since he’s not quite mature yet…” Count (Last name) sighed. “I wouldn’t mind my daughter marrying you if I’m honest-“

Duke Blackburn’s cheeks flushed in shock, the Duke nearly dropped his tea cup from the Count’s words. “I beg your finest pardon?”

“My daughter would be in good hands if she was with you. You’re mature and you’ve been single for over a decade.” Count (last name) gestured to the portrait of his daughter behind him. “You said it yourself that my daughter was beautiful.”

“That does not mean I want to marry a woman half my age-“

“Duke Lucius Blackburn and Duchess (your

name), I can picture it.” Count (last name) howled with laughter when the Duke hid his scarred face in his gloved hands. The older Duke felt embarrassed by the Count’s teasing.

Lucius and (your name)? It is a normal occurrence of marrying a younger woman in this day and age, but she was his own son’s ex-fiancée! Then again, it would be a similar situation if she became engaged to Broderick…

“Alright. I will marry your daughter-“ Duke Blackburn put his hand on Count (last name)’s shoulder before the smaller man could cheer. “But consult with her first. I’m an old man and I’m still the commander of the Royal’ Family’s army. I’d hardly have time for her.”

“Of course I will. I’m sure she will be delighted!”

Duke Blackburn and Count (last name) continued to have small talk but Lucius couldn’t help the feeling of nervousness that crept up his veins. Would she really be alright with a man like him?

.

.

.

“So Duke Blackburn said he’d marry you if you’d like to be with him.” (Your name) quirked a brow at her father. The young woman slowly sipped the tea her father had prepared for this meeting. She was a bit surprised her father wanted to find her a partner this quickly, but she was also in her prime. If (your name) didn’t marry soon, she never would.

“But I just ended my engagement to him-“

“Wrong Blackburn, my dear. I’m talking about Lucius Blackburn-“ (your name) spat out the tea and choked a bit. Lucius?! As in Trishan’s father?! “Are you alright?”

“Father, you can’t possibly- why?” (Your name) struggled to formulate words as a million questions ran through her brain. Engagement to Trishan’s father?! His father?!

“Well, he’s a much better man than his spawn. Don’t you think, my dear?” Count (last name) puffed his chest out in pride. “Plus he’s still quite fit despite his age-“

“Father!” (Your name) stood up, her being frazzled with bewilderment. “It hasn’t even been a week since my engagement was annulled and… that man is old enough to be my father!”

“But he would treat you well!”

(Your name) shook her head and was about to excuse herself from the table. How was she supposed to get her revenge if she now had to marry Trishan’s father?

(Your name) held her head while the gears began to turn in her head. Wait. This could work… she could use Lucius to her advantage.

“You’re right, father. How could I not see that before?” (Your name) bent down and pressed a kiss to her father’s cheek. “Thank you, daddy.”

The count was in shock before his whole face lit up. He was so happy to bring his daughter joy! She deserved to be happy!

.

.

.

Trishan threw a chair across his room in anger. His engagement had been annulled and his beloved was to marry his father?! No… this wasn’t how his second chance was supposed to work out! They were supposed to be happy together!

“Trishan?” Trishan’s blood went cold when he heard a familiar, feminine voice from outside his door. What was that snake doing here? “You haven’t replied to any of my letters and I’m really worried about you…”

Lies. That woman only wanted to become a Duchess and she had murdered (your name) in the past… was this her fault?

Trishan felt murderous intent drip throughout his veins as he stood up. Yes… this was Gia’s fault. If she didn’t exist… then (your name) would come back to him.

Trishan’s lips curved up in a demented smile. If he got rid of Gia then everything would fall back into place. Just like it was meant to.

“Wait for me darling… I’ll make everything right this time.”

ushijima x reader. some angst, mostly fluff, suggestive content. timeskip spoilers. plot: your long-time coworker turned friend, Kuroo, sets you up on a date with one of his finest clienteles.

To stay unattached is to keep a distance.

Ushijima Wakatoshi knows this well enough. He had gotten accustomed to it at an early age, when his parents divorced. It was pretty clear that his mom hardly wanted anything to do with him, and neither did her family.

His intention is to keep this maxim walking into the date. Though, it doesn’t deter him from being the gentleman he is, even when you show up 15 minutes late.

Your first impression of Wakatoshi is that he is a man of few words. You aren’t put off by it, however, you prefer a man that knows his points, speaks it, and waits for a response in deliberate silence. It’s endearing in its own way.

It’s endearing now, when you can’t help but find yourself staring at him. His dress shirt and pants—Armani— are tailored to fit him perfectly. You saw when he stood up to greet you, even pulling your chair out for you (swoon.) His jawline is sharp, eyes stoic, and his shoulders are so broad—

He’s turned to you with expecting eyes.

“Oh- sorry, what did you say?”

Wakatoshi clears his throat and straightens in his seat. “I said because I’ll be in Europe soon, I’m not looking for anything serious right now.”

Oh. Okay… you can work with that. You usually don’t do one-night-stands, but the longer you look at him, the more amorous you’re getting.

“I’m sorry if that disappoints you.”

You perk up, realizing you haven’t given a reply. “Not at all! I’m not really interested in that either.”

A lie. You fear you are quite the hopeless romantic at heart.

As you resume to your dish, he takes a moment to watch you.

Wakatoshi might not be too well versed in pop-culture, but he has picked up a few magazines in his free time and reads enough ads to know that you’re quite the public figure yourself. Quite the vivacious one at that— according to some headlines.

He isn’t too sure of what your job is, just knows that you’ve worked alongside Kuroo for a while and recently ventured into the fashion world. Your confidence in style illuminates under the dim lamps of the restaurant: classic, chic, timeless. He hadn’t missed the wandering eyes when you walked through the door.

When Kuroo had called him during his off-season trip back to Japan, Wakatoshi had initially declined, not wanting to start something he wasn’t sure if he could finish. But, Kuroo had insisted, saying that you thought “his eyes are pretty” and wanted to see for yourself if they were olive or brown. Safe to say, he was intrigued and figured he’d quell your thirst for knowledge.

When dinner concludes after some small, but interesting talks, Wakatoshi insists he pay for the bill, and before you can deny, his card is already given to the waitress without even looking at the check.

“Thank you for dinner, Wakatoshi. It was delicious.”

“Of course.” He says as he holds the door open for you. You both walk to the marble water fountain placed in front of the parking lot. “Have you decided what color my eyes are?”

You freeze.

(“They’re definitely brown.” Kuroo assured.

“We’ll see. You didnt tell him I said anything about his eyes though did you ?”

“Not at all!” Kuroo gave his salesman smile to your glare. His two thumbs up acting as a shield from your valid accusation.

He did.)

You make a mental note to leave a scathing voicemail later.

“Oh!” You laugh, bashful, a hand coming up to rub your neck. “That….”

It appears Wakatoshi is still waiting for an definitive answer. You suppose he’s the not the type of man to tease, but still comes off just as humorous through his bluntness. It’s lovely, you think, you prefer to be the one teasing anyway. You step closer, leaning in close enough for him to feel the surface of fabric on your evening wear against his own. The string lights around the restaurant have given you both a warm, golden hue. It’s brighter out here.

“…Right now, they look olive. In the restaurant, they looked a dark brown.” Your voice is quieter now, but you’re still looking at him with that inquisitive gaze of yours. And he can’t help but study back. He scans your face and absentmindedly thinks those magazines don’t do you justice. He watches as your lips curve upwards into a small smile. “I guess it depends on the lighting, but my verdict is olive.”

Neither of you have moved, still inches apart. It feels… intimate. “What color do you say they are?”

Wakatoshi never thought about it, never really cared, but right now, he just wants to agree with you. “Olive.”

He watches as your smile grows, feeling his heart beat at a quicker pace. “Ah, I love being right.” There’s a moment of silence until you take a step back and extend your hand, “Well. Goodnight, Wakatoshi.”

Wakatoshi gives a nod, breaking out of his short-lived trance. He takes your hand, thinks your skin is some sort of magnet the way he can’t bring himself to pull away.

And before he can think clearly and go through with his plan of saying goodbye and leaving it at that to go your separate ways, he leans in closer, gently tugging you in with his hand still in yours.

You don’t move a way, instead you purse your lips as you look to his and back up at his olive eyes.

His voice is just above a whisper.

“May I… kiss you?”

He’s not sure who kisses who first after he asks. He just knows that for the following weeks, Wakatoshi sees you more than he should be. He becomes accustomed to your presence in his apartment, your smell on his bed, and the way you call him ‘toshi against his lips.

The weekend before his flight(weekends of which you usually spend the night) you don’t come over. He doesn’t play dumb at the fact that he had been the one to say it wasn’t serious in the first place. You seemed to take that to heart. He remembers the sadness in your eyes the last time you were in his home, telling him you weren’t good at goodbyes. Did you think he was?

Wakatoshi spent that weekend mulling the last few weeks over, missing you. He mentally scolds himself for letting it go this far, but how was he supposed to know his heart would cave at your simplest touch?

This kind of issue can only be resolved by talking to one person: a best friend.

And Tendou Satori rarely misses a phone call from his.

“I suppose me leaving is for the best.” Wakatoshi had rationalized, the afternoon before his flight, filling Tendou in about the heartache that is you.

“Maybe.”

“The more distance the better.”

“Ah, but Wakatoshi-kun, doesn’t distance make the heart grow fonder?”

His flight landed in Poland around noon. Many hours on the plane, Wakatoshi decides he isn’t good at goodbyes either. He calls you when he reaches his hotel.

“Hello?”

“Hi.” His voice is caught on the air, surprised you’d picked up so quickly. “I just landed. I…I—“

To be unattached is to keep a distance. But, even thousands of miles away from you, Wakatoshi is bound, tied true to the anchor that is your voice and the mirage of your face when he hears it.

“I miss you too.”

He wants to laugh because really, it’s only been three days since you’ve seen each other. Have you both grown lovesick?

“Can I see you when I get back?”

“Wakatoshi, that’s weeks— months away.” You laugh. He smiles upon hearing it. Yeah, lovesick. “Who knows what will happen by then?”

His smile is replaced by a confused frown. “What will happen?” Before you can answer, he has spoken again. “Nothing will change. For me, at least.”

You hum. A beat of silence. “‘Toshi?”

“Yes.”

“I’ll be thinking about you until then.”

Wakatoshi thinks he might just fly you out and attach you to him forever.

…

(On a random weekday, Kuroo receives a box of Parisian chocolates and a typed out ‘Thank You’ card on his desk. The card flips to show a man with red hair and red eyes.)

a/n: ty for reading! long distance sucks, but this couple will make it thru :’)