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halcyone-of-the-sea · 10 months

Note

hello !! if it’s not too much of a bother can you write another piece featuring Lion 🫶 maybe another angsty piece, maybe a lil lion + farah combo or something else like lion and gaz getting separated from the 141 during a mission and having to fight their way back to the extraction point (?). totally up to you !!! also thank u for keeping us well fed 🙇‍♀️

Lions and Ibexes

PAIRING: John Price x Wife!Reader 'Codename Lion'

SYNOPSIS: Impulsive was what John always called you - affectionately, of course. But he sure does worry when you disappear without him.

WORDCOUNT: 4.0k

WARNINGS: Blood, death, canon typical violence, a tiny bit of angst, fluff, banter, no connection to 'I'll Take the Night Shift' except codenames, protective!Price, suggestive jokes, etc.

A/N: I wanna give Farah a big smooch on her forehead.

*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*

“So this is the woman that the Captain won’t keep quiet about,” you smirk and place your hand into Farah Karim’s, eyes shimmering as you both share a tight grip.

“Commander,” greeting the black-haired woman, your light gear hangs off of you easily and efficiently; clean and well-taken care of.

“Lion,” she nods, smirking back. “A pleasure.”

“Please,” you huff a laugh, “I wish it could be.” Expressions dim as you instantly get to work, the hot sun and dry air sticking to your flesh like a second skin of humidity. Releasing Farah’s hand you sigh and look around the old town, skimming over the forms of other Urzikstan Liberation Force soldiers.

Farah does the same, breathing lowly.

“On that, I believe you’d be right.” Brown eyes flick to yours, looking you over before the woman nods. “Come, we have much to discuss.”

“Lead the way,” your feet push you onward, following behind the Commander as your wedding band clinks against your chest. Held on that long chain, a hand comes up to brush it carefully, letting the man who wears the mirrored piece bring you comfort even from so far away.

John was set to ship out in two days—there were some other important operations that had taken precedence. While you could have stayed behind with him, as you had wanted to do, a plea from one of the far-distant operators of One-Four-One had caught your ear. The name Farah Karim was known.

If you didn’t offer assistance, you’d never feel right with yourself. One call to Laswell and it was all set up.

“I’ll be there in two days,” John had muttered into your scalp as you both lay in bed, tight to one another; lashes fluttering. “Wait for me, yeah? No running off.”

Your smirk had made him sigh a chuckle. “No stunts of heroics, my Love? Please, do you know who you’re speaking to?”

“You’ll be the fuckin’ death of me, y’know?”

“Well,” the words are uttered into his neck and John pulls you tighter into him. “I think that’s just about the most romantic thing to happen to someone.”

Smiling to yourself, you bring the ring to your lips and kiss it lightly before letting it drop. In your head, John is still in your shared flat in London, and you’ll be back by the hour. If only.

“You contacted Laswell and said you had encountered more of Barkov's remaining cells?” Your voice carries easy authority; ingrained confidence.

Farah looks back and nods firmly.

“They’ve taken over a town in the mountains, my forces can’t break the line.” She sighs aggressively and you stare with a sliding frown. “Even dead, Barkov cannot leave my people alone.”

In the back of your throat, you hum, “Well, parasites tend to be resilient.” Farah leads you into a home with maps on the tables and low talking of strategies from others. They pause when you enter and you nod politely. Many here knew your husband as the Commander did—all those years back when he was still only a Lieutenant and had broken Farah and her brother Hadir out from the Russian’s jail; labeled as prisoners of war.

John had told you about it during one of the many late nights in your joint offices. Eyes tired and his hands playing with your hair.

“What do you need me to do?” You ask genially, standing near the table and placing your hands down on it—standard M4A1 resting over your chest and your secondary weapon strapped to your thigh. Unlike most, you’d opted for lighter gear to allow you to move faster.

Fewer packs sit on your vest, and the gleam of the knife on your shoulder was a testament to your preference to close, silent, encounters. Though you liked to use your silver tongue to get out of situations, unfortunately, that wouldn’t work in this instance.

“Captain Price told me you’re one of the best undercover agents he’s seen.” You perk at this, looking over with raised brows.

“Hell,” your chuckle echoes, “when you said he couldn’t keep quiet I thought you were exaggerating.”

Farah smiles cheekily at you before pointing to the map of a mountain town surrounded by red Xs.

“My soldiers have marked off choke points all around the area. They’re the only pathways to the town, but heavily guarded.” She glances around the room and you hear her sigh heavily. “I wouldn’t have asked for assistance unless I knew I needed it. I’d prefer to leave foreign fighters out of this conflict, unlike my enemy.”

“I understand,” your head shakes. “It’s your home—I’ll go where you need me to. John should be here in two days to assist.”

Farah’s face flashes with surprise, her full brows rising on her head. “Price is coming?”

You shrug and laugh, “he’s stubborn.”

The woman chuffs before moving to fold her arms over her chest. “I think perhaps he’s more of a smitten husband, hm?” At the sheepish expression on your face and dipping eyes, Farah barks a laugh.

The band around your neck clinks into the stock of your gun as you stand to your full height.

“Is it that obvious,” you tease, tilting your head to her. You knew it was.

“I believe the simple action of asking is proof enough, Lion.” The commander looks at her work on the table, smiling easily but focusing still on her plan of attack. “But, regardless, I give my thanks for flying out on such short notice.”

“We help our own.” Resting your hands on the body of your weapon, you smile fondly. “Now, who do I need to kill?”

—

As it turns out, killing was the very baseline of what you needed to do.

Shuffling into the dark armor of the dead Russian soldier at your feet, you grunt at the slick spread of blood on the ground as you strap arm braces to your limbs.

“Heavy as all hell,” you grumble under your breath, picking up the large helmet and shoving it over your head with a puff of air.

Farah was going to lead a distraction on the far side of the western choke point while you slipped into the ranks, placing packs of C4 in some of the large-stocked weapons buildings. Easy enough for you, you admitted. You’d done things like this a million times over.

When all was said and done, slipping your knife into the new belt at your waist, you gaze down at the dead man with a huff of air; seeing the blood still pooling from the very obvious signs of a slit up the left armpit. You blink and stuff your wedding band down your shirt.

“Bad day, buddy,” grabbing his legs, you bare your heels and drag the body behind a large outcropping of rocks—long streaks of crimson left behind. “I’d hate to be you right now.”

Grunting, you drop the limp flesh with a thump like a paper-towel roll meeting the counter.

Shuffling back into the open, your feet make tracks to get you closer toward your targets. You hike the small pouch Farah gave you farther up your back without a word more.

John had always said you were quick-witted, but when he got here he’d lose that hat of his in disbelief. The truth was that you had forgotten what little of the Russian language you’d initially known, and the situation you found yourself in now was frankly not ideal.

C’mon Lion, you think to yourself, just pick up social cues and you’ll be good.

Oh, your husband was going to lose his shit.

—

“Come again?” The Captain barks. “What do you fuckin’ mean she’s in the base?!”

“I just explained it,” Farah levels, raising a brow. Blue eyes narrow with a growl until the Commander's lips flicker in a smirk. “We just had word three minutes ago. She’s fine, Captain.” Fingers find John’s nose bridge, digging deep into the flesh in large exasperation and worry.

He had caught a C17 and came here a day early after he’d gotten a bad feeling—internal wife radar going off as it usually did when you placed yourself in danger without him. Which was more often than not.

I told her not to be impulsive.

John sighs long and low, shaking his head. “Farah…you sent her in alone?”

“She is quite capable, Price.”

“I fucking…” He stops himself and puts his hands on the table in the center of the building. Men and women were snickering from the corners, sending amused glances. “I know.”

Farah sends a glance to her soldiers and they turn away to cover their smiling mouths. Enjoyment was in her tone as she grabs the walkie-talkie from the table top and clips it to her vest.

“There were more men than we anticipated—she had to be more careful when placing the charges. Captain,” John glares up at her when his eyes leave the maps. The Commander teases, “She is fine.”

As if on cue, the radio fizzles with your voice. Farah looks down with surprise and the Brit's eyes snap to it immediately; body tense.

There’s a moment of garbled static where the Captain feels his heart beating out of his chest. The panic that had snapped through him when you hadn’t come out to greet him when he’d landed was primal; genuine fear stuck in his bones like spiky grass. The bond the two of you had was closer than anything on this plane of existence. It was rare to not see one without the other.

Your voice cuts through and John’s shoulders sag under a non-existent weight.

“You should tell your men to move unless they want to be scorched, Farah!” The woman in the room smiles ferally and raises a smug brow as she looks at John.

“Copy, Lion. You have my thanks.”

“I didn’t know you could improvise Russian—it’s like the Slavic blood just entered my body!” The Brit covers his eyes with his hand and groans at the base of his throat.

“Tell her to get her arse back here before she gets bloody shot.” John takes off his bucket hat and tosses it to the table with a gloved hand, punching his hair back from his forehead. “Giving me gray hairs,” he grunts.

Farah laughs and says eagerly into the walkie, “Someone’s here to say hello.”

“...Oh, fuck.” Your panting breath clears and after a long glare at the device, John hears you say in a slow and awkward tone, “Hello, my Love!”

Farah tilts the radio closer to him and looks highly pleased.

“Get back here. Now.” John grunts out, fingers digging into his arms as he crosses them. “I told you to wait for me.”

You laugh nervously, deflecting, “...did you, Dear? I guess I misheard you.” The Brit’s jaw clenches but Farah can speak before he can.

“Lion, are all the charges set, then?” You seem thankful for the distraction, sighing over the line.

“All good over here! I just need the O.K from your men and then it’s about to get a whole lot brighter.”

“I’ll relay the news—get away, as far as you can.”

“Already on it,” your breathy chuckle exits and you pause before saying. “See you soon, Love!”

Tiny blue eyes bug, “Wait–!” The line clicks off and Farah is already tapping into the frequency for her soldiers, turning slightly away to converse in quick Arabic.

—

Evening rolls around and you jog back into the Liberation Force’s base, greeting the guards stationed with a breathless sigh; utterly sweaty but happy you’d gotten half a ride back from some locals. You’re back in your original gear, sear marks on your cheeks and hair slightly burned, but nonetheless unharmed.

Everyone welcomes you back with handshakes and pats on your shoulders—brushes to your arm as people pass. You guide yourself back to the main building with chuckles and deep smiles of achievement.

“Someone’s happy.” John’s voice freezes you halfway into the home and you cringe like a leaf. After a moment your eyebrows slide up with a cheeky smile.

“John,” you draw out his name and turn, seeing him leaning against the house with his arms crossed and legs stiff. He looks unimpressed in all of his handsome glory. “Well, don’t you look nice—did you trim your beard before coming out?”

Walking slowly towards him, you loop your hands around his waist and press kisses into his neck sweetly. The man sighs long and you feel his large palms rest on your hips heavily. You blink innocently into his orbs.

“Your silver tongue won’t work on me, Love.” The glint in his expression eggs you on as his nose tints down to touch yours. You smile brightly, seeing the wrinkles on his forehead dim as he melts into you easily.

Whispering, you utter to the air, “I’d say you like my tongue, you brute. Tell me often enough.” Not a beat is missed, but you feel his cheeks go slightly red.

“Keep it on a leash and maybe I’d like it more, yeah?” You snort loudly, head dipping only to feel his lips press into your scalp; his smile is teasing as his beard drags against you.

John breathes you in along with the scent of sand. One of his hands travels up to lock into the back of your neck, playing with the chain of your necklace. The one that mirrors his own down to the very dents and scratches.

“You alright?” The words are a murmur into your flesh. You let him play with your wedding band as your smile softens to the same sensation of warm pelts on a wooden floor.

There was no use telling you to stop your crusades, the Brit knew that. You did what you wanted and damn the consequences; John was stuck with damage control but knew you had the skills and know-how to break all odds. You still held that same fire that the woman he married wore like a crown of fangs without fail.

“Always,” you reassure him, hugging his waist tighter and staring into his eyes.

The both of you lapse into a delicate hold. John’s arms cage you in and you’d have it no other way as fingers drag over warm flesh, never mind the brutal dig of gear or the stain of blood. Neither could keep you away from the other.

“When will you stop making my heart rip out of my chest, Sweetheart?” John asks, smirking down at you. “Trying to give me a heart attack before forty, eh?”

“Oh, please,” you whisper against his lips, eyes alight with mischief as he watches you closely—pulse pounding against yours. He could never be angry at you. “We both know that if you have one, I’ll be having one too. We’ll end up being brain-dead at the same damn time, no doubt.”

He laughs against you lowly, having to pull back to shake his head at your bland confession. “You’re fuckin’ mental, Love.” He breathes in soft puffs of breath. You gaze up at him, laced with affection and care, as he rests his forehead on yours. “Ah, but that’s alright, isn’t it? We’re all a bit crazy.”

“You might be a little bit higher on the metaphorical scale,” you tease, face serious but eyes betraying you. They always would when it came to John; the only person to break through that ‘cunning nuisance’ that everyone always mentioned in your file.

“Really, now?” He blinks, smirking and rubbing at your hip absentmindedly and leaning closer—pushing your neck to the side.

“Just a bit,” you huff, not even realizing.

Before you can utter another word, firm lips capture you like a beast in iron bars, bulky forearms stuck at the curve of your spine. You chirp into John’s mouth in surprise but melt into him as his large purr resonates into your bloodstream. Singing, you bring your hands to his cheeks, digging through those bristles to feel the burn on your hands.

Humming, your husband nuzzles his nose into your cheek like a dog would, letting him take in your scent as you feel your legs go weak. You enjoy the worship he gives you; always would. Your body is tightly held against his own and you gladly would have shown him how much you enjoyed him being here if only for the small fact you needed to talk to Farah.

With one last pass of his reddened lips, you slip back and kiss his bristly cheek with a chuckle.

“Later.”

He groans into you. “Tease.”

“I didn’t even do anything!” You laugh loudly, moving out of his hold to walk into the house as he follows at your heels. John’s hands go to the top of his vest collar to rest.

He leans down and whispers, “Don’t need to, Love.”

Your face burns for him and only him as he grumbles out chuckles at your blown pupils. Huffing, you turn and roll your eyes, trying to dispel your flaming blood. Farah waits for you and with a happy glance up she comes from around the table and claps you on both shoulders. You grunt in surprise but grip her elbows with a laugh.

“Barkov’s remaining cell was wiped out—my soldiers are hunting down the remnants as we speak.” She squeezes your gear and you sigh in relief. “Thank you, Lion, for coming out when you did. The Captain was not wrong in his assessment.”

You turn your head to the side and glance back at John. “Hear that my Love, I’ve heard you talk about me. That’s so precious.”

His face goes red under his beard, and his feet shuffle as you and Farah share a joking glance. John releases under-the-breath grumbles before the Commander addresses him. The woman releases you but speaks past your person.

“Some of my younger soldiers wanted you to mentor them with the use of their weapons, do you plan on staying the night?” You and John share a look, a seeming telepathic communication going on.

He nods at you and you smile. “Only tonight, we ship out at first light. I’ll do what I’m able.”

“Then you also have my thanks. They’ll learn much, I’m sure. Lion,” John comes and gives you a kiss on the cheek before leaving. You watch him go for a moment before rubbing at your dirty neck while you listen to Farah. “Come with me, there’s fresh water on the roof.”

“Oh,” you perk, suddenly realizing the fatigue in your bones and the dryness of your throat. “Thank you, that’d be great.”

As you both ascend the stairs to the roof, there’s a still silence that falls, a calm nothingness. When you finally stand on the flat roof, you look over the vast land as Farah hands you a chilled water bottle from a mini-fridge. You take it with a small nod in thanks.

“Nice view,” you motion with the bottle before taking a long sip—downing half of it in one go.

Farah smiles and hums. “Urzikatan is a beautiful place,” you listen and wipe at your mouth; seeing people walk the streets below as the red sun grows even lower. In the wind, your nose twitches to sand and dust, with some hint of floral notes and arid cleanliness. Farah’s face seeps with a low sadness when she looks out to the land and you pause your drinking. Brows pulling in, you watch her.

“Farah?” You ask, carefully. It’s a moment before she responds.

“I…” She crosses her arms and sets her feet. “I wonder if this place will ever see its freedom. We’ve been fighting for so long already. My family has known war more than anything else.” Brown eyes drift to you from the side of her eye.

There’s a tightness in your chest. You can’t imagine what Farah feels right now, what she has felt. Years of this…and still her home is under foreign subjugation. A frown grows on your face and you put the half-full bottle to the small wooden table near the roof’s corner.

“You’ll get your sovereignty, Farah.” You try your best to speak your mind to the woman but remain truthful to your belief. Farah stares out as you sigh lowly. “Maybe not now—maybe not in this generation—but someday the sun is going to set on a free Urzikatan. You’re plenty strong enough to assure that and you’ve done a proper job so far. The frames are already set.”

The Commander hums and gazes at her soldiers below as they mull about, laughing with each other and enjoying the company of their fellow countrymen.

“Do you ever wonder what it would be like?” Farah asks you, and you study her genuine interest in her own thoughts. “Who we would be if nothing ever happened to us.”

You stare for a moment, skull tilting down to gaze at the top of the roof. It’s not an easy question to answer.

“Sometimes,” your lips admit. Farch eagerly pivots to your form like you hold the greatest answer imaginable. She’s been through so much—losing her family, and her home. Humming, your eyes shift to the setting sun; blinking at it. Against all of this, your lips flinch up into a smile. “But not often.”

Farah’s eager gaze turns confused, her brows furrowing deeply with a scrunched face.

“Because right here, right now,” John walks down the street below, and your eyes fall to him as easily as a leaf dances to the ground. The expression on your face eases. “It couldn’t have happened if there were never bad days.” Your husband looks up, and you see him pause among the ranks of other fighters. You chuckle softly, head tilting to the side.

John stares at you as if you’re the only person to exist, moving one hand from his vest to jerk two fingers in a subtle greeting. Farsh watches the interaction closely, tension loosening from her body. Your head nods slowly to your husband and you say to the woman, absent-minded, “I’m right where I need to be…And the sun has never looked brighter.”

Farah huffs a laugh, eyes running back and forth between the two of you.

“He loves you,” she says, “deeply.”

“God,” your laugh echoes, “I sure hope so.” The both of you laugh.

It felt easy to speak to the Commander, truthfully. Being surrounded by four men all of the time can get catty even with such a strong bond as you had with One-Four-One.

You dare to share more.

"In my mind, John and I are still in Hertfordshire for our wedding,” The words come out of you slowly, unwrapping emotions one layer at a time as if swaddled in a dark veil of internal nostalgia. You watch John as he walks along, oddly sad but filled with something that makes you want to take him up into your arms with a wet laugh. “Sitting back on the grassy hills outside of town in my gown and him in his tux. The wind is cold…but neither of us can find it in ourselves to shiver. The sun's setting on our heads and making everything glow gold. His fingers are running through my hair…” You pause and hear Farah’s soft breath in the air, but you don’t look at her. Your eyes stay stuck on one person only. “When I die,” your words continue, “I can't ask for anything more than just a glimpse of that again. Just a flicker of that hill. Of those blue eyes looking into mine. I don't think it would be all that bad if I could live in that moment for senseless eternity. If I could live in it for only one second."

John looks back at you from over his shoulder, your form shrouded in the setting sun as he slowly walks away from you. You gaze with melted eyes, the ring around your neck shining all the brighter.

“I’m right where I need to be,” finishing, you turn your glossy eyes to Farah, who stares with a wide pull to her lids. “And you need to believe that even if you never get to see that freedom—that hill—you’ll make sure someone else can climb it just an inch farther.”

It’s a long moment before Farah answers.

“The both of you will do this until one of you dies, hm?” You blink before you shrug.

“Not one.” Your tone is easy, and John’s shadow turns a corner; out of sight. “I’d never let him go without me.”

TAGS:

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mountsgirl · 1 month

Text

Captain-Dominik Szoboszlai

Pairings: Dominik Szoboszlai x fem!reader

Warnings: +18 content(smut), explicit language

Summary: Attending the game in which your boyfriend captains his national team takes an interesting turn

Note: I just couldn’t get this idea of him out of my head🫣

Even if this was just a friendly game against Türkiye, Dominik still wanted his girlfriend to attend. He wanted to make her proud. They have been dating for a couple of months, the relationship still fresh, but the chemistry was something none of them had ever experienced. That’s how Y/n found herself at Puskás Arena on a Friday night with Dominik’s jersey on.

It was moments before the Hungarian players needed to be on the pitch to warm up for the game, as you were seated with the other wives and girlfriends attending the game. They were discussing about clothes, jewellery and how excited they were for the game to start before you receive a text from your boyfriend.

Dominik: come in the locker room, I need you!

You wonder if everything is okay with him as you excused yourself from the group and went on to look around the stadium for Dominik. Reaching the locker room, you push the big doors, surprised to find him all alone. His kit was on, together with the captain’s armband, which made him even hotter.

“Shouldn’t you be warming up?”you approach him, settling yourself between his legs while his arms embrace your hips.

“I should” he smirks, checking you out. The skirt you’re wearing come right before your knees and the black leather boots embracing your legs, made you look like a goddess. Looking up to see his jersey hugging your body so perfectly, his smile widened even more “but I had to see you before”.

“You’re so handsome” you mutter, while arranging a string of hair which fell on his forehead.

“My captain” those words awake something in him and he hooks his big hands around your thighs drawing you closer to him, until you’re sitting onto his lap. His and your lips are now mere inches apart, Dominik finally closing that distance, with a passionate kiss, moaning softly. Both of you get even more excited, one kiss turning into a heated make out session. Dominik’s hands traveled all over your silky smooth skin, from your waist, down to your thighs caressing it gently but firmly.

“Strip” he tells you without any hesitation. All flustered and turned on by his actions you look deeply at him with doe eyes “What?”.

“You heard me, strip!”

“Dominik, the game is about to start and someone could come…” he interrupts you with a sloppy kiss, gently pulling on your lower lip to which you can only let out a moan of pleasure.

“Is not like that stopped you before”

“But” you try to argue with his but also very tempting idea but he doesn’t buy any of it.

“Be a good girl and listen to your captain, otherwise I’ll have to bend you over that table and make sure you behave baby” his words hit you like a bus. Dominik seems very calm about the whole situation meanwhile you’re barely holding on.

The shirt and skirt you’re wearing are long forgotten on the floor, while Dominik tries to unclasp the bright red, lacy bra “You’re going to kill me with his baba” he starts planting kisses on your neck, going lower and lower, to the valley of your breasts, not forgetting to nibble and mark every inch of skin on your chest. “Dominik, Domi please” you whimpers in his ear, getting even louder than before.

“What do you want?” He asks straight away, his lips barely leaving your body.

“I want you baby, please”

“And where do you want me?” He asks with a cheeky grin on his face.

“I want you inside me”

Hearing your words, Dominik lifts you up just like a feather and places you on the table in the centre of the locker room.

“All you had to do was ask szívem(my heart)”

Dominik rips up the lacy red panties you had on which were matching the bra.

“Dominik, I liked those!”

“Don’t worry baby I’m going to buy you more” he says thrusting into you.

“Domi!”you leave out a sigh of pleasure which sounded more like a scream, as your walls were drawing him in more and more, squeezing his already hard cock.

“Arch your back for me pretty girl” you do as you’re asked, feeling him go deeper and rougher.

“Can you feel me here baby?” Dominik asks, tracing your lower stomach, feeling the tip of his cock pushing harder into you. You were getting lost in the pleasure that your beloved boyfriend was giving to you while he was just as fascinated by your body and the sounds youmade as you were by him.

“Yes baby, yes!” You let out broken sobs as Dominik was brushing wet kisses over your body. He grabs your chin and he smashes his lips with yours whilst thrusting roughly into your aching core. Dominik was nibbling on your skin while your walls were clenching around him drawing you closer and closer to your climax.

“Dominik I’m close baby please”

“I know baby, I got you, I’m close too”

With every move inside you, he was bringing you closer and closer to your orgasm untill you both reach your high, your uneven breaths echoing trough the empty room.

“Fuck that was good” you smile, kissing him.

“Never disobey your captain’s order” he smirks, kissing you again. Dominik helps you get off the table and as you both get dressed you pick what’s left of your underwear off the ground

“How am I supposed to go without these now?”

“Just as you came here, plus it’s easy access for my reward after I score tonight” he winks and you roll over your eyes.

He laughs as he takes the pair of tore up panties from your hands and puts it in his locker.

Hope you enjoyed it!🫶🏻

#dominik szoboszlai #dominik szoboszlai x reader #dominik szoboszlai imagines #dominik szoboszlai smut #dominik szoboszlai imagine #dominik szoboszlai x you #liverpool fc #lfc #football fanfic #football smut

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jymwahuwu · 1 year

Note

You've done yandere Tighnari and yandere Cyno.

But what about a yandere Alhaitham?

glad you asked!! 🥺 i do have an idea for this, but haven't been writing about it before - sharing my thoughts on yandere alhaitham and kaveh now (yes, i love writing about them both)

tw: yandere, non-con, kidnapping, abuse of power

"Once order is disrupted, the consequences spread like wildfire. I’d like to avoid such a scenario, so I can keep my life intact and uninterrupted."

Alhaitham took part in a revolution to replace the grand sage, resulting in Sumeru's regime returning to the God of Wisdom, and he became interim head of state (reluctantly). And all this just for his peace daily life💀 So, imagine what happens when Alhaitham finds out that you are an unstable factor in his life.

Alhaitham found that he had to spend an extra twenty minutes a day observing you, and another half hour thinking about you. (He already has all the information on you…you are very easy to understand, but also the most difficult to understand.) He doesn't like this kind of unexpected thing. Perhaps the bards in Mondstadt would have had an understanding of this ethereal experience, but everyone in Akademiya knew that Sumeru's literary studies and poetry were not popular.

He decided to solve it in a simple way. He is the acting grand sage now, in other words, the person who is actually in charge of the country's decisions, so there is no difficulty in implementing them. Here's a paperwork explaining your disappearance, you're just traveling somewhere else. Not to mention, you don't have any defenses about what you're drinking. Um, the location of the property, which he was always happy with, was indeed a problem - it was too close to Akademiya, General Mahamatra might notice you, so the soundproofing was updated.

Alhaitham is an educated, decent, civilized man, so he even asks for your opinion - and you reply with some confusion, oh, tour, if you get the chance, you can take it. You choose one of several new traps invented by Kshahrewar, say it's a nice color, you don't know it will be used to lock you later though.

At the beginning, Alhaitham just wanted to keep you at home, like bringing home those roadside pigeons, so that he could observe you at any time. He will provide you with three meals, and even generously have afternoon tea, new clothes, and books. He doesn't have any erotic thoughts. However, Kaveh changed that.

Kaveh sees you trying in vain to unlock the house. It was a strange sight. (Alhaitham allows you to do this because everyone has the right to use their intelligence.) He's shocked and confused by what happened - like, is this what he thought? His roommate locked someone up? Kaveh tries to explain to Alhaitham that it's wrong to lock someone up like this, but ends up not discussing it and living with the two of you.

Gradually, you can't help but seek comfort from Kaveh, the architect who often cares about you. He brings you some desserts and is willing to hear your complaints about Alhaitham. On the weekend, Kaveh wanted to go drink with some architect friends, but stayed home after hearing your tearful plea (“Please… please don’t go, don’t leave me at home….”)

What broke this kind of life was that one day, Kaveh held your cheeks and gave you a breathless, long forced kiss. His tongue twirled in your mouth, his long fingers rubbed against your private parts. Your struggles and panics are not fully understood. Alhaitham was flipping the pages of a book on the couch, watching you being forced to kiss and fingering…and then he pressed on to you. The sound of wet slapping and sobbing echoed loudly in the living room.

Maybe, he should try this?

#alani.answers #alhaitham x reader #alhaitham x y/n #yandere kaveh #kaveh x reader #genshin impact x you #yandere alhaitham #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader

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yourcunningassassin · 4 months

Text

A Dance with Death

Gortash x gn!Durge

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hints at well established relationship | soft Enver | sfw

Warnings: gore | bad english cuz it isn’t my first language

————————————————————————

Enjoy reading, love!! <3

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

Determined, you strut down a hallway towards the staircase that leads to the corridor where Enver's office is located. You pass higher-ups and nobles who were very much alike in a way — they cowered at your presence. Even though you couldn't care less about these mere mortals, you can't help but let your eyes flicker across their wretched features with distaste. Do they even deserve to be here? After all, some of them have caused too many mishaps for Enver to keep count of. They need to get punished for every single slip-up that they have ever made in Enver's and your name. Although it's not their time yet, that will have to wait until another seemingly never ending-scarlet day.

Today, that very scarlet day is going to knock on someone else's door.

You climb the stairs that lead up to the upper floor of the fortress. Your dominant hand is poised at the handle of your dagger, aching to cut through the soft flesh of your sworn foe. Two steel watchers stand at the ready at the office door. You gently knock at the door before swiftly moving inside the office. Two guards were situated on either sides of the foyer — Enver's lapdogs if you will. You turn towards them. "May you leave us alone? We ought to discuss important matters now," you inquire with a bittersweet smile infused with malicious intent. A deep and collected voice rings to the foyer: "You may leave now; I don't require your assistance as of now." Enver comes up from his office to greet you. As he reaches you he gently takes your bloodied hand and presses soft kisses to it before discarding it. "My sweet assassin, there you are! I was wondering when you'd pay me another visit." As he says this a smile is present on Enver's face; his features softened, especially the otherwise very prominent crease between his brows. "Enver please stop," you say while taking a step back.

Your hand aches — oh how it aches! Would father be proud if you got rid of him? Probably. Is Enver a weakness? That he is.

Your hand yet again finds comfort in the handle of the ritual dagger that was a present from your father. A symbol of your utter and upmost devotion. Orin alway looks it like it's the most beautiful thing in the world. It is but it is linked to centuries after centuries of utter chaos, caused by Bhaal's Chosen — you. As Enver sees you reaching for the hilt he also takes a step back, now cautious of your every move. His face shows hints of bitterness. He begins by saying, "I trusted you, my love...I still do. I trust in us-" You interrupt him by swiftly moving behind him, your dagger at his throat as you whisper in his ear, "You're a distraction, Enver...you're my weakness. A weakness that ought to be destroyed..." Your dagger presses down a little harder, not yet enough to draw blood. "My hand aches to kill you; the voices don't stop...I can't keep going. My father needs this. He'll kill me if I refuse." With a breathless voice you say, "Just want to hear your sweet pleas as you cry for help while I glide my dagger across your soft flesh...while i rearrange your guts, my love~". Enver doesn't flinch; he doesn't even move as much as an inch as he knows — he knows that you’re lying in some extinct state. He smirks as he slowly exhales through his nose—a hint of the sharp intake of breath he had taken moments prior. "I'm impressed by you, my dear...the way you had me wandering into your little trap...but," he says, and he grabs your wrists with unexpected strength. You lose the grip on the dagger, and it gets sent to the floor. Enver turns you around, holding your wrists behind your back with just one hand as his other hand moves to place itself tightly over your mouth. You harshly bite down on his palm, even drawing blood.

Will you ever get over enjoying this? Oh no, never. It tastes so good—so sweet, purely divine.

Enver tries to get some distance between the two of you, but you swiftly retrieve the dagger from the floor and send a strong kick to Enver’s ribs. While blocking an attack from him, you use the opportunity to strike again—a large gash manifests on Enver’s shoulder. “My love, what about us? I believe in us. I’ll always do," he says while dodging one of your throwing knives. You click your tongue in annoyance and answer, “There is no ‘us’ in my devotion to my father, I’m afraid. This is what my urge desires. My sister is going to kill me if I don’t put this tragedy to a bloody end.”.

Precise and planned manoeuvres are executed by the both of you — it’s a dance with death itself! The Dead Three watch over you with curiosity. Who will win? Love or devotion?

You sent another strong kick towards Enver’s ribs, hearing a faint crack. Enver moves to get a hold of his injured ribs as you move elegantly around him to get in front of him. He musters up some strength to hold your right wrist as he poses a lazy smirk while you grab a hold of his shoulder. Seconds after seconds pass—it's like eternity. Both of you relish the short moment. Both of you relish the faint comfort of one another.

Did his lips always look this chapped? Perhaps from all the biting a few days ago... Did he always have this scar on his chin? It’s from your first encounter, when he first proposed the plan. Did he always have this scarlet glint in his black eyes? In some way, it represents you, one might think.

You try to send another kick to his stomach, but his right hand takes a hold of your thigh before it can meet its target. The cold steel of his glove presses against your thigh as he caresses it gently—a gentleness you’ve only ever known with him. You sigh, “Is this utter and real devotion?”. Enver chuckles with a knowing glint in his eye. “You can do as you are ordered by your father, but that won’t change the fact that you crave this. You desire to be this close to your sworn foe. The desire to defy your father.”. After a few seconds of contemplation, you ask, “Do you crave this?”. In a swift motion, you push him against the wall, your body closely up against his as you press your dagger against his throat. It’s just enough pressure to draw a small trickle of blood. Enver grins but doesn’t move to struggle against your advances as he calmly answers, “Ah, the dagger at my throat, now ‘that’ I miss. If I crave this, Of course, my dear, just as much as you do.”. His body moves against yours, now pressing you against the wall. Your wrists are being held in his strong hands. You struggle in his hold but then ask, “Does Bane approve of this?”. Enver chuckles and says, “He finds it amusing to say the least.”. He laughs and then whispers, “You’re my enemy—my sworn nemesis in a way. And yet, here we are, the two of us, fighting like this—skin against skin. It could be taken as an innuendo of some sort, don’t you think, my love?”.

You push him away and kick him to the ground. Enver still has a smile on his lips as he’s looking up at you. You slowly walk over to him and straddle him. With your dagger, first you run up his lower stomach, then his chest, and then his neck—just enough to slightly break the skin. In a moment, your knife is just a millimetre away, way from his right eye, before you slam it in the wooden floor next to his head—harshly at that. You watch him wordlessly, contemplating your actions. He moves to slightly sit up. “You had the chance to slay me, yet you hesitated," he remarks. You sigh and move to get up from your position as you murmur, “I’ve gotten weak. I should be ashamed to be my father’s child.”. “Weak or not," Enver whispers. “I find I like you weak," he grins. “And you’re not exactly weak... just distracted.” You answer him with bitterness, “Too distracted for my own good, I’m afraid..." “Your distraction is rather enticing.” Enver sighs as he stares up at you, his features soft and his voice gentle. You bite your lip and help him up. Enver wordlessly watches you with a smile and says, “You’re my nemesis, my most capable foe. But you’re also someone I admire and respect. Someone I find myself unable to hate. That’s what makes this fight so enticing to me.”. You look down and avoid his eyes as you mutter, “I should go. Father probably wants to see me.”. With a sigh, you start walking towards the door. Enver hums but then stops you by gently grabbing your wrist and saying, “Just one more thing... before you go..." His voice is soft, almost soothing to hear. “Should we fight again sometime, my love?”. You chuckle, enamoured by his proposition. “We most definitely should, my dear," you answer before slightly turning towards him to face him. You gently press a kiss to his chapped lips that lasted longer than it should have before whispering, “I’ll come by tomorrow... to continue this scarlet dance of ours, Enver~”. Enver softly laughs at that: “I’ll be waiting for you, my sweet assassin.”. One last smile at him, and you’re gone, on your way. Your devotion will be the thing that brings you down. Your devotion, or rather, the lack thereof.

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

Thank you for reading!! I hope you liked it :) This is my first time writing in a while so sorry if it’s a bit wonky heh- Kinda wanna make a part 2 now~

#gortash x reader #bg3 gortash #enver gortash #durgetash #bg3 durge #durge #gortash x durge #bg3 #bg3 x reader

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littlebitsmile · 4 months

Text

in flames [C.L.] | Chapter I

Welcome back! Here's the first official chapter, situated inbetween the ending of the 2023 season and the beginning of the 2024 season. This played out in my head and be prepared, this whole story will be a SLOW burn. Even slower than Ferraris pit stops.

Dropping a new chapter next week, would be nice to see lots of you again!

But until then, enjoy your happy holidays!

[also, please don't forget to read the Prologue first]

story: in flames driver: Charles Leclerc [C.L.] trope: #haterstolovers summary: Always working three times as hard as everyone else, Emma does not intend to blow her chance of driving among the best of the best in her very first season in Formula 1. Concentrating on first and foremost getting ahead of her brother, she does not even notice that there are some people even in her own team who think she does not deserve this spot and would rather see her fail. And one driver in particular seems to have a need of always reminding her of that.

────ʚ C H A P T E R I ɞ────

As soon as the news broke, I have been swarmed by paparazzi. Hell, I could not even go to the toilet in peace without someone asking me about my deal with Aston Martin. But after finishing my last race in Formula 2, I could officially call myself part of a new team.

Sadly, I still have no clue why they approached me with an offer and why they went through with signing me. Initially, I thought it was a joke, some PR stunt to rile up Red Bull, since they made it pretty clear they wanted me and Max as the power duo - after a second and eventually third year of proofing myself in Formula 2. However, a ten-minute phone call turned into an unofficial hour-long meeting, which morphed into a Zoom session involving my manager and a team of lawyers. Three separate five-hour sessions later, where expectations on both sides were thoroughly discussed, I found myself facing a stack of papers with small "x" marks beside every line I needed to sign.

And here I am, wearing a green polo, black trousers, decent makeup, and a smile plastered across my face. Fernando Alonso, one of the biggest names in the sport, nods in my direction, giving me a last look of encouragement or approval—I'm not sure. We walk through the double-winged doors and are instantly met with flashes of light. The noise is overwhelming; I have to restrain myself from covering my ears and squatting on the ground with pleas of "stop." People shout not only my name but also Fernando's, alongside questions we surely are not allowed to answer at the moment.

Navigating through the chaos, we take our places on the couch atop the stage, in front of what must be hundreds of people. I feel like prey, reporters wielding notepads, iPads, and phones as their weapons to summon words that cut through us like knives.

As we sit down, I immediately reach for the glass of water standing next to me to soothe my dry throat. Nausea washes over me as I glance around the room.

"Welcome, ladies and gentlemen, to the first pre-season interview of Aston Martin! We are delighted to have our two drivers, Fernando Alonso and Emma Verstappen, here for approximately one hour to answer all the questions you certainly have. But first, let’s address the elephant in the room, shall we?"

I was informed about this. We went over a few potential questions in countless meetings with my new PR manager. Nonetheless, I can't help but feel like this is a test I didn't prepare for at all.

"Emma, let’s start with you. This is your first year in Formula 1, and there is a big question on everyone's minds: Why Aston Martin? I mean, your brother – Max Verstappen, for everyone who has been living under a rock for the past couple of years -…" Laughter fills the room. I chuckle myself, but I would rather cry. "He has been with Red Bull since 2016. Everyone thought if there's a chance of you getting into Formula 1, it would be alongside your brother in a Red Bull car. What happened?"

I take a deep breath, swallow, pick up the microphone in my lap, and try not to look straight into the ceiling lights.

"Firstly, thank you all for being here. I do realize you’re here for Fernando and not for me—at least that’s what I’ve been trying to tell myself for the last week so I wouldn’t freak out." More laughter in the crowd. I relax a little. "And thank you for the question. I guess a lot of that was gut feeling. To be honest, I am really not sure why Aston Martin initially talked to me about my chances in Formula 1 since my last driver championship was in Formula 3 two years ago. I just finished second in Formula 2, and I've only been there for a year, so that was quite unusual. But when I talked to the guys and they introduced who was supposed to be my future race engineer and some people from the pit crew, I saw in them what I saw in myself: a purpose. They all spoke so passionately and ambitiously about the next season, and suddenly I felt like I found a place where I belonged. At least that's what my PR told me to say. Actually, I am here because green is my favorite color, and I have the biggest crush on Fernando."

The crowd goes crazy. Everyone claps and cheers. Someone screams, "We all do!" I glance at Fernando, and he smiles at me. Then he picks up his microphone: "We all hope you realize that was a joke. You could be my daughter, Emma. Also, Linda is still the love of my life."

"Damn, if there will ever be a chance of dating Fernando Alonso, Emma, you will have to line yourself up in the back. But, thank you for the close insight. We are pretty proud to have you wearing our colors." The host looks away from us and turns to the crowd. "So, let’s do what we and all of you are here for. Time for some questions."

A few hands instantly shoot into the air. My palms are sweating, and I look around nervously, praying that some people here have the decency not to focus too much on my transfer. But apparently, there is no god in the big blue hanging above us.

"Fernando, how do you feel with a rookie as a teammate? A female one?"

Tiny voices in my head agree with him, and probably many reporters in the room too. I shift uncomfortably on my seat. This press conference is not going in the direction we anticipated. Fernando seems to think about the question, but even though I have not known him for very long, I can feel how he tries to behave and stay calm.

"Age or gender have nothing to do with talent. Or capability, for that matter." His eyes revert to me. A smile. Then he continues: "We’re a team, and success comes from working together. I’m pretty sure an old man like me will learn a lot, but we always have to remember that this is a process. Growing as a team will not happen overnight."

Fernando's calmness washes over me and captures me. He has been doing all of this for so long—PR training, talking to reporters, reading about himself in newspapers and on tabloids. I feel pretty lost, like I am on an island with only a book about survival strategies, but it is not written in any language I can speak.

"What did you think about the statement Charles Leclerc made last week, about you being in this sport solely because of your brother? Or maybe, a bold follow-up question: Is your place in Formula 1 rather about connections than skill?"

I laugh, and the room immediately goes silent. "Sorry, what was your name?" I ask.

"Uhm…Kevin?"

"Well, Kevin, that’s a really good question, and I have to say there hasn’t been a single day where I haven’t asked myself the exact same thing." I pause and look around. Shock is plastered all over the reporters' faces, probably because they did not expect this kind of answer. "The thing is, my whole life I was second. Second being born, second to being seen, second to being supported. Second to start karting after Max had already a great start. The only time I did something Max didn’t do before me was when I joined a Formula 2 team—and that was only because he went straight from Formula 3 to Formula 1."

I remember the call I got when my place at DAMS was secured. I was excited beyond words, screamed, cried, laughed, all at the same time. I thought, finally, I have something to be proud of, something I achieved by myself. Something for myself. But when I went to tell my family, the only comment I got from Dad was: "Well, maybe you’re not as talented to just go straight to Formula 1. But it’s a nice chance, for a girl." Max does not know about that conversation, and I try to keep it that way. Otherwise, he would probably punch Dad in the face, a couple of times.

"Of course, it is hard to believe in yourself when there are so many people who doubt you, but that’s the beautiful thing about Aston Martin and the seat they offered me: They see something in me no one else sees, and they believe that I can contribute something to this team. These are guys who have been in motorsport way longer than I am, so I think it would be pretty fair to say I trust their judgment more than someone who tries to make a living of writing stories about strangers, I guess." A few people laugh, a few clap. I try not to be rude, but it is true. People are so quick to judge situations they are not in, and I am not here for that.

"Also, I cannot influence what any other driver on the grid has to say about me. As I said, I am here because some people see potential in me being a F1 driver and I will not let them regret this decision, so...I guess Charles, and any other driver for that matter, can have opinions about me all they want, but I am going to race these guys, whether they like it or not. This is a chance and I don't intend to blow it."

"Well, that’s a clear statement, and I’m right with you on that. Hopefully, pardon my French, you will kick some ass out there this season. The men need it, believe me." There is a wink in his tone. The room erupts in applause and camera flashes. I smile and nod, a small "thank you" gesture to the reporter.

"Thanks, Kevin. I will try my best not to disappoint you."

The press conference concludes about thirty minutes later; we say our quick goodbyes and leave to go back to the headquarters.

"What a day, huh?" Fernando remarks as we come to a halt in front of our cars. I sigh, shake my head, and gaze down at the ground.

"This was a lot more challenging than I thought. They're like... like..." I struggle to find the right word to capture the feeling. Fernando nudges me, a gesture of understanding.

“I know what you mean, but that’s their job. If they don’t bring out the worst in us, they would suck at it. But you handled it quite well, so don’t worry about it.” I glance at him. When I grow up, I want to be as calm as this man—like a huge cliff at sea, never giving in to whatever storm is coming.

“I haven’t seen what statement Charles made, did you?” I try not to sound too curious.

“Don’t dwell on it. I’m sure a lot of people will comment on you joining Aston Martin, some more, some less. But the most important thing is to clear your mind. We don’t need distractions – we only need some confidence. I can feel it; this will be our year.”

"If you say so."

And with that, Fernando waves one more time, gets into his car, and then drives off with a loud roar of the engine.

I look around, absorbing the peace and how silence envelops me.

Guess it’s time to start believing in myself and kick some ass.

────ʚ [Masterlist] [Prologue] [Chapter II] ɞ────

#f1 #f1 fanfic #formula 1 #charles leclerc #haters to lovers #f1 imagine #slow burn

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mcufan72 · 10 months

Text

Cold winter days, a woman on a bench, a stranger in the park...

An Encounter in Winter ��️

Loki and female reader (18+)

Chapter 17

Chapter 16

18+/adult themes/talking/flirting/slow burn/fluff/angst/smut

Warnings: angst, irritation, trust issues, not much smut, some cockwarming, soft!dom/sub vibes, some dirty talk, unprotected sex, fluff, sweet romantic stuff because I needed it, maybe still some secrets and life-changing decisions …

A/N: This is the penultimate chapter... there will be just one more chapter and/or an epilogue, I haven't decided yet. In advance, a big thank you to everyone who read, liked, commented (publicly or privately) and reblogged my story! I saw and see all of you guys and I love and appreciate you!🫶🏻💖

'Please meet me tomorrow in the park at our bench, my love'

"Sure, but why are you afraid to ask me for it?" and while questioning him you turned your head again towards him when you heard him say:

'In the afternoon, Snowflake. Same time, same place…'

The thing was, you heard him, loud and clear…but his lips didn't move an inch…

"Lo, what is going on here?" You tossed the magazine onto the table, your eyes widening fearingly.

"I don't know", Loki answered hesitantly. His last plea to meet him tomorrow in the afternoon he sent willingly to your mind to check if it really works. And to his astonishment, it did.

"Why…why can I… I mean how? How do you speak to me without… talking? Do I…do I hear your… thoughts? Can…can you hear mine? Oh my goodness…", and you jumped off the sofa and walked a few steps toward the window, away from Loki. It scared you and you felt nauseous.

"I swear, Snowflake, I don't know what's going on. You…you can hear me? In your head? I didn't know…"

"What did you not know? And come on, Lo… answer my question! Can you read or see or hear the thoughts and minds of others? Can you read or hear mine? Can you? And why didn't you tell me about it?"

You almost yelled at him. You didn't want to yell at him but you were so scared right now.

"Snowflake…"

"Tell me, Laufeyson…can you?"

Your face hardening you stared at him, anxiety in your eyes. You knew he had a lot of magical abilities and you knew, reading minds was one of them. But you never had any reason to think further about it and never discussed it. Until now.

Loki felt your insecurity and upcoming panic. He wanted to hug and comfort you, he didn't want to be the reason for you feeling that bad.

"My love please… yes, yes I can but…"

"Did you ever…ever read mine? Did you ever infiltrate my mind or my head?" You growled at him, your voice shaking with anger and fear and you locked up your tears. You never wanted to be manipulated again.

"No, my love, never. Why should I? I can't even do that without permission and physical contact. I just can manipulate someone with spoken words…and I never intended to manipulate you! I know how harmful and destructive this can be from my own experience. I would never do this to you! Please, darling, don't back away from me. You know I love you…"

"We had a lot of physical contact in the last months, Laufeyson!"

Tears were brimming in your eyes. Could you still trust him? He was very secretive since he came back from the mission. The phone call when you came back from the bathroom, he ended immediately as soon as he recognised you were entering the room. The delayed return from the recent mission and also it seemed he hid something from you. What did it all mean? Were you wrong about him? Everything with him was perfect, felt perfect. Maybe too perfect to be true or to be everlasting? But the things you've shared so far, the feelings you had for each other, the bond… all of this couldn't be a lie, could it?

The way you addressed him was painful for Loki. You never talked to him like this and never have you been that cold. Nonetheless, Loki made a step forward to take your hands in his to comfort you. But you backed away from him. You had never done it before and it hurt him deeply.

"Snowflake please, I don't know why you can hear me in your head. It…it must be our bond. I didn't even know that it would be that strong, that it could give you this ability. Please believe me, I'm as surprised as you are…", he made another step towards you and you backed away again.

"Surprised? Surprised?", you said hysterically. "Are you fucking kidding me, Loki? Surprised? So you want to tell me you didn't know about it? I'm not that naive anymore. I don't believe in everything that anyone else tells me about. I just don't know what I should believe in right now or not…or if I can still trust you." You regretted your words exactly the moment you fired them at Loki.

Loki felt like you had cut his heart out of his ribcage. Your words hit him like the sharpest swords. But he held his composure. He knew you didn't mean it…he hoped you did not. You told him every day how much you loved him and he was convinced this love wouldn't just fade away because of this difficult situation. If so, what would be the value of the love you had for each other? You both knew difficult times would come sooner or later. The honeymoon phase of your relationship wouldn't last forever…not to talk about the span of 4000 years. But maybe you never wanted to spend such a long time with him. He still didn't know if you had made a decision yet. Maybe this crisis would end everything you two shared.

"I didn't do it on purpose, Snowflake! I did it just with my last request, asking you to meet me tomorrow at our bench. Just to test us. To see if it really works. Please believe me. Please trust me, my love, I beg you…", he said desperately.

You shook your head vehemently and made further steps backwards.

"I need to be alone… I need…some alone time… don't…don't touch me, Lo. Please, leave me alone…"

"I won't leave you alone, my love. Not when you're in a state like this…"

"Okay, then I go…I go and you won't follow me, okay? Don't. Follow. Me!" You raised both hands in defiance.

"Snowflake… no…where…where are you going?"

"Away…I go … away… just away", you gestured with one hand toward the door, turned around and left the apartment.

"Snowflake, nooo…don't go, please!", but you ignored him and closed the entrance door behind you.

You didn't intend to leave the tower, not alone in the middle of the night. You headed to the elevator and pressed the button to the top floor where the roof terrace was. You needed fresh air. Lots of it. You didn't really know why you reacted how you reacted. It wasn't Loki's fault but you treated him like it was his. You knew you did him wrong and that you had hurt him deeply. But the feeling of maybe being manipulated again triggered old anxieties and feelings of emotionally depending on a man again and made you act wrong. Stephen Strange, the most manipulative asshole you had met in your life, had broken so much inside of you when you were engaged to him and the only thing you knew was that no man would do this to you ever again. At the same time, you knew Loki would never do something like this to you. He loved and adored you in a way you never expected someone would ever love and adore you.

You were just confused and overwhelmed, close to freaking out. Everything was too much today and this made you react unfairly. Your sister was back in your life, Loki's return from the mission which took longer than planned, the breathtaking sex with him after a long time disconnected because of the mission, and then finally you found out that you were able to hear his thoughts. It was just too much.

Even so, could you still trust him? Did he really not know that you might be able to hear his thoughts? Was the bond that strong? But why didn't Loki know about that fact? Did no one before him have this experience? Maybe not, because maybe never before a Jotun was in a relationship and shared a bond with an ordinary mortal like you. A mortal girl from Earth without any magical abilities, without any magic at all. The only thing that might make you special was your gut feeling that mostly never betrayed you. And this gut feeling told you now, Loki didn't know anything about that matter, that he had told you the truth. And you felt his heartbeat, nervous, strong, beating faster than usual and full of pain. He was hurting and you were causing it and you knew he didn't deserve your cruel behaviour.

Nothing of this was your fault but neither was Loki's. You tried to breathe through the fist squeezing your heart and swallowed down your tears. You decided to go back to your apartment and talk to him. You had to clear the whole situation. You needed to understand what had happened and what it would mean for the future now. A future you still wanted to spend together with Loki, your lover, the only worthy owner of your body, soul, heart… and thoughts. You loved and trusted him endlessly and you just hoped he'd understand your feelings, insecurities and anxieties and your motives for why you had been so mean to him.

Loki's eyes welled up with tears when you had left. The urge to follow you overtook him but he knew it was better to leave you alone now. He was afraid you could leave the tower and would walk to the park, the place you loved most and that always calmed you down. But you'd never go there alone in the middle of the night. You weren't that careless. He felt your heartbeat. It was thumping fast, restless, anxious. Of course, you were close to freaking out. Abilities like this could be frightening especially when you're not used to it. He was used to those abilities since he was a child, you were not. His mother told and taught him everything he knew about magic and magical abilities and now it was his turn to help you with it. He just hoped you would come back to him soon so you two could clear the issue.

He went to the bedroom and took the snow globe into his hand and shook it. He loved to watch the flakes twirling inside of it and got deeply lost in thoughts. Loki never expected this could ever happen, that you could be such a sensitive, good receiver of his thoughts. He had never heard about this and that a Midgardian inhabitant would be able to develop this ability. Maybe he still didn't know enough about Midgardians. And maybe it was the bond he had with you that had opened up your mind to it. He was restless and helpless, and he felt guilty too. He never wanted to cause any harm or trouble to you. He put the snowglobe back onto his bedside table and opened its drawer. He took out a small wooden box and ran his fingers over it.

He knew it was a risk and he might overwhelm you again. But he had to, there was no way to wait any longer. You were already suspicious and he didn't know how to hide it any longer. He might ruin it all but he had to take this risk. It seems your relationship has to be like this, no detours, no secrets, always straight to the point.

"Loki, can we talk?"

He flinched when he heard your voice and turned quickly around to face you, hastily hiding the box behind his back.

"You're back… thanks to the Norns you're back. Of course, we can talk, my love."

"What are you hiding from me, Loki?" you asked him quietly and tilted your chin up as walking slowly toward him.

"Nothing, my love", he answered quickly and instead of the wooden box he now held the snow globe in his hand, showing it to you. Magic could be such a wonderful gift.

"I just watched the flakes twirling around … you know how much I love this gift of yours."

"Yes, I do…", you answered softly. What for God's sake was he hiding?

"I'm sorry for freaking out and being mean to you…but I became anxious and worried. I still trust you, Lo… I'm just so afraid. Please forgive me…I didn't mean to hurt you. I love you, I love you, Lo!"

"I know my Lady Snowflake. There's nothing to forgive. I get that you're scared… but please don't be afraid. I won't leave you alone with that", he said softly and put the snow globe back onto the bedside table before he made some steps towards the spot you were standing. This time you didn't back away.

"May I hug you, my love?"

You just nodded silently because tears and a lump in your throat were disabling you to speak. The moment you felt his arms around you, you let your tears flow and nuzzled your face into his chest, his soft chest hair tickling your nose. His warmth and his familiar scent were calming you down immediately in a way only he could do it. You slung your arms around his waist and hugged him tightly while he comforted you gently.

"Shhhh shh, my love, I'm here…I'm here. I'll help you to handle it, I promise. It's not as terrifying as you might think right now. I'll teach you everything and you'll be able to control it."

"Why do I have this ability, Lo? I don't understand it but I want to understand it", you asked him with a tear-choked voice.

"I'm not sure, Snowflake. I just think you have a talent for it and you're a good and sensitive receiver…and I'll teach you to be a good sender as well. And I think our bond triggered your talent. We'll find a way to make you feel comfortable with it."

"Yeah, Lo. With your help I'll make it", you answered sobbingly.

"You will", Loki whispered against the crown of your head and pressed a tender kiss to your forehead.

"I'm so exhausted, Lo. Can we go to sleep? I just want to go to sleep."

"Sure, my love. Come, lay down with me… or do you prefer to sleep alone tonight?"

"Are you kidding me, baby? You know how bad my sleep is without you by my side."

Loki's face stretched in a smile of relief and you both took off your clothes and crawled into the bed under the duvets. Like every night he was spooning you and you were happy and grateful to have him back. Still, it was the first night together after the mission and nothing felt better than his skin on yours and the feeling of his muscled body wrapping yours was irreplaceable. You were already very sleepy but you needed to feel him again. You had recognised his boner nudging against your buttocks and you craved for him. You always craved your adorable lover.

"Lo?"

"Hmmhmm?"

"I need you."

"Aren't you too tired, Snowflake?"

"Yeesss…." ,you nearly drifted away into slumber. "Don't want to move… just wanna feel…you….Let me…warm you", you murmured tiredly.

"Are you sure, my love? Do you really want to do that? Because I can't promise I won't cum when I'm inside of you while you might already sleep." He would never take advantage of your sleepiness.

"…I want it, Lo…please…enter me, please…", you mumbled silently and sleepy.

"Snowflake…"

"Lo, please…"

You were dripping wet and slick so Loki had no problems slipping his erect length into your tunnel. Your cunt flattered his cock and your contractions, caused by him tenderly playing with your nipples, made him even harder. You must still trust and love him, otherwise, you wouldn't have allowed him to own you this way. He never dared ask you to warm his cock but secretly it was one of the things he had dreamt of. But he was insecure if you would accept such possessiveness.

"Norns, Snowflake…you feel so good."

He moaned whispering to your ear and kissed your nape. His ass tensed up delightfully though he barely moved. He just bathed in the feeling of your warm cunt engulfing and convulsing about his sensitive tip and enjoyed the blissful feeling of your beautiful body in his arms.

"You're being such a good girl for me" he whispered, close to tipple over the edge.

He wasn't able to stand this feeling any longer and despite all efforts to hold himself back, he came inside of you. He gasped and moaned silently but violently. His orgasm was intense and he tightened his grip around you. A silent, content sigh escaped your throat and from your light slumber, you drifted into a deep sleep as if you just had waited for him to find his relief in you.

"I love you so much, Snowflake." Still buried inside of you Loki fell asleep too, hoping the things he had planned would be successful.

In the morning when you woke up, Loki had already left the bed and the apartment. You stretched your limbs and yawned heartily. You missed the warmth of Loki's body but you still felt his seed dripping out of you and a familiar stickiness between your thighs. You looked at the empty space next to you but Loki had left something for you on his pillow. A smile curved your lips. There was a green rose and a note.

Good morning, my love.

I hope you slept well. I definitely did. With you in my arms, my sleep is always the best. I'm sorry for the mess I've left between your beautiful legs but you were so cute while still sleeping and I didn't want to disturb my Goddess' sleep. Also…you must know it was fantastic with you and you didn't dream it…if you know what I mean. You've been such a good girl for me and I have to thank you for last night. Thank you for letting me be possessive over you. I adore you, my Queen and next time I'll worship you and every little inch of your gorgeous body as you deserve to be worshipped!

Please don't be mad at me that I've already left but I have some things to be done before we have our date in the park.

I love you endlessly, my Goddess and I can't wait to see you in the afternoon. Same time, same place. Please come, my love, my pretty Snowflake. I'll be waiting for you.

In eternal, devoted love,

Loki

His words were so sweet and the thought about what had happened last night while cuddling naked to sleep, made you blush. You absolutely enjoyed it and you were utterly happy that Loki enjoyed it, too. You two definitely have to do it again. You sniffed at the beautiful rose, left the bed and took a long hot shower. You got dressed in a t-shirt and jeans and headed to the kitchen.

Thor and Jane, Tony and Bruce were already there and you were happy that you weren't alone and could have breakfast with them together. Yesterday's events still lingered in your mind. You couldn't wait for the afternoon when you would see Loki again and hopefully, you were getting some answers to your questions…and to your special request, you had for Loki. The only thing that bothered you was Jane and Thor stared at you grinning and exchanging knowing gazes. But you didn't want to ask them why they behaved like that, maybe you would do it later, in the evening after dinner with your sister and her family.

The day until afternoon went by quickly and was filled with lots of work in the lab like always when your friends had returned from a mission. After finishing work you changed your clothes. It was a warm autumn afternoon and you put on a flowery dress, which exposed your cleavage and your legs just the way Loki loved it and combined it with colour-fitting green ballerinas. You wanted to look pretty for him. This date was going to be very important, so it seemed.

You tidied your hair, put Loki's rose behind your ear and fixed it with a hairpin, diffused some of your favourite perfume behind your ears and on your wrists, grabbed your purse and left the building and walked to the park. You hadn't seen Loki all day and now you were excited to meet him. Something mysterious lingered in the air, something meaningful and changing.

After a short walk, you arrived at the park, your bench and Loki already in sight. You became nervous as a teenager who was going to meet her first crush for the first time and your cheeks blushed. You could already see from afar how stunning he looked, sitting on the bench, waiting for you as promised and you swallowed thickly.

Loki was dressed in black trousers, black patent shoes, the waistcoat with the snake motif woven into the fabric, an emerald green tie with a gold tie pin and a crisp white shirt. You would love to see it halfway open with rolled-up sleeves but today he wore it super chic and with golden cufflinks. You preferred his hair all curly and soft but today his black mane was properly styled and more wavy than curly. His perfect side profile, his straight nose, the chiselled jaw and cheekbones, his soft lips and celestial blue eyes, his slender long legs, one crossed over the other and the most important reason why you loved him so much, his big soft heart, his loving nature, his mentally and physically strength, his will to be together with you and endure you …this whole package made your legs wobbly and your heart flutters and you gasped inwardly.

If you weren't already in love with him, you would fall for him here and now. You still couldn't believe that this gorgeous man was yours and still… he had a secret and suddenly you were afraid he would want to end your relationship. It was an irrational worry but what if not? Concern overtook you and the smile you had on your face slowly faded away.

"May I?" You asked him shyly when you had arrived at your bench where he was waiting for you. Your hands were sweaty as if you would address him for the very first time.

"Snowflake!… of course, please take a seat!"

He was as nervous as you were and he rose from the bench to welcome you. His smooth dark voice caused goosebumps on your skin like whenever he spoke to you like this but it also calms you down a little bit. He took your hand in his and gave a soft kiss on your knuckles. He was still a perfect gentleman and treated you like his princess and goddess. A tear ran down your cheek and you were shaking with excitement. You felt how nervous he was, his hands were trembling and you wanted to hug him so badly.

"Thank you, Sir. Normally I don't do that…" you chuckled and squeezed his hand gently.

"Normally you don't… but now you do!", and Loki grinned smugly at you.

Your familiar scent and the powdery aroma of your perfume calmed him down a little bit. He tried to hide his growing insecurity and upcoming panic and also the feeling of what nestled in his pocket, burning a hole into his flesh. Not literally, of course, but the urge to make his wishes come true grew with every second.

"Please, let us sit down, my Lady!"

"I love to, Sir!"

You both sat down simultaneously, facing each other and Loki caressed the back of your hands. With his thumb, he wiped away the tear from your cheek.

"Do you feel good, my love?"

"I'm not sure. There's something going on, I guess." You could barely breathe.

"Yeah, maybe…" Loki's mouth was drier than the Gobi Desert and his heart thumped fast against his chest. He still held your hands in his and he felt you trembling.

"You look gorgeous, my love!"

"You look ravishing, my beautiful god. It seems you have something special in mind…"

"Yes, I have. I want to tell… no… ask you something…for…quite a while now."

"Oh…me too, Lo"

"Oh…really?"

You looked at each other curiously, quizzically and shyly smiling at each other, not knowing what to say next.

"Well, please you first, my Lady!"

"Noo, you first. You asked me for this date so you have the privilege to begin. What I've to tell you can wait, Sir."

You were close to crying because maybe your request wasn't relevant anymore. Why were you so afraid?

Loki took a deep breath before he spoke again.

"You…you know how much I love you, don't you?" He stammered.

Why was this so difficult? He just wanted to ask you something so why was he so nervous? He was a prince, a warrior, a god but now he was scared like a little boy. Why? It couldn't be that hard to ask you a simple question!

You just nodded silently, smiling at your lover. The lump in your throat and the dryness in your mouth made you unable to speak. Loki mustered all of his courage and began to talk.

"I still remember the day when you addressed me for the first time. Here, last winter, the lonely woman from the bench next to me. You looked so cute with your beanie with the green bobble and you were so sweet and nervous. Right from the beginning I felt drawn to you and you trusted me that much without knowing me. The way you listened and talked to me, the way you accepted me with all my insecurities and flaws was and still is incredible.

I never thought I would find someone like you. A woman who allows me to be my true self. You never judged me, never hated me for my past and the things I did. The greatest gift ever is that you love me for who I am. I always thought I'm a monster but you showed me I am not, that I'm worthy of love and acceptance. You make me feel safe and content and I also found the courage to walk around in my true form…yeah, just in Norway and in private but…I don't feel bad about it anymore and to know that you love and appreciate me in both appearances means the universe to me.

As you know before I met you I didn't believe in love anymore or that I would ever share the bond with someone but now I do believe in love and I never want to lose you. I already wanted to ask you when we were in Norway. Everything was perfect there. You, I, the evenings with you on the jetty… but there was a little detail missing and I couldn't ask you without it.

I'm still sure I'm not worthy of you, I don't deserve you but I know I don't want to live without you anymore. I belong to you and you own me in every way, my heart is yours forever. The only thing I can ask you for is… my Lady please allow me… allow me to be your husband. I would love to be your husband."

Your eyes widened and teared up like his. All those lovely things he just had said. Did he just propose? He did, right? Your face lit up and you fell around his neck.

"Yes, yes, yes, thousand times yes Lo!", you answered him overjoyed.

You cupped his face with your hands and kissed him longingly, again and again. Loki wrapped his arms tightly around your waist, pulled you closer to him and reciprocated your kisses. When you both had your fill of each other you broke the kiss to catch some breath and you smiled brightly at each other.

"I absolutely allow you to be my husband I insist! …and I want to be your wife and I want to belong to you forever. Words cannot express what I feel right now, Lo. All I can say now is thank you. Thank you for loving me and thank you for making me happy and I can believe in love again. I love you so much, my precious baby, Norns I love you…"

He slid down from the bench and knelt on one knee in front of you. He fidgeted something out of his pocket and presented it to you in his palm.

"This is for you, my Queen. I would be honored if you accept my little gift."

In front of you knelt the love of your life, and never before it has been clearer than now that he was a prince. His proposal was perfect, elegant and respectful. How could you ever doubt his love? How could you not accept this beautiful gift? It was a wooden box, nearly black like ebony, decorated with delicate carvings of snakes and creatures you had never seen before and also different lines that reminded you of the lines which adorned Loki's skin when he was in his Jotun form. It was wonderfully crafted and it seemed to be ancient and not from this planet. Realization slowly hit you why Loki had returned from the mission later than expected.

"This is amazing, Lo! Thank you so much. Never before have I seen something as beautiful!"

You smiled brightly and caressed his cheek. He leaned into your hand but the look in his eyes was a mixture of tenderness and waiting. You looked quizzically at him. What was he waiting for?

'Open it my love'

You heard his voice in your head and did what he asked you for. When you had opened the lid a loud gasp escaped your throat and you covered your mouth with one hand. In the box was the most beautiful ring you had ever seen, embedded in black velvet. It was made of pure gold, with a big diamond in the centre, surrounded by small white diamonds which looked like little snowflakes. The big diamond in the middle was turquoise-blue with a shimmer of green, depending on the lighting. It seemed the Northern Lights were caught in it.

'Like my dress…it has the colour of my ball gown'

'You've worn it when I kissed you for the very first time…I'll never forget this moment '

"I don't deserve such a lovely ring, Lo" you whispered.

"The ring is worthy of a queen. And you, my love are a queen and more than this, you're my goddess and no woman in the nine realms could be more worthy of wearing my ring. And you deserve so much more. Am I allowed to put this ring on your finger?"

"Yesss, Lo my love, you're allowed to do it!" you answered quietly and smiled reassuringly and brightly. With trembling hands, Loki took the ring and put it on your also trembling ring finger and kissed your knuckles before he stood up to sit by your side again. You stared lovingly into each other's eyes.

"So this gorgeous gift was the reason for your delayed return?"

"Yes, Snowflake. I let the best jewellers of Jotunheim craft it for you from Jotunheim's finest diamonds and gold. The wooden box belonged to my ancestors and I always wanted to give it to the woman I want to marry and share the bond with. And as you know, this woman is you. So I asked our friends to make this roundabout way before we would fly back home to get these items for you. I let the jewellers manufacture it some time ago when I was on a former mission."

"So all of our friends knew about this but me! You mischievous guy!" and you slapped his upper arm playfully and he laughed.

"Yes…no, not every detail. Just Thor knew everything I had planned."

Now every reaction and question of Jane and Thor made sense.

'Sneaky brothers' you thought.

"Don't forget, my love… I can hear you!"

"Dammit…", and you winked at him. "Hmm, maybe this mind-reading-thing isn't that bad…I could ask you for filthy things or talk dirty to you…", and a mischievous smile curved your lips.

"You little minx…" 'and naughty girl, my sweet little whore'... don't you dare…',

and he ran a finger from your throat down to your cleavage.

"Loki, behave! We're in public!" You scolded him playfully while a shiver ran down your spine.

"Do you really want me to be your husband?" Loki asked you more seriously now.

"Do you really want me to be your wife?" You questioned him and grabbed his hand and caressed it.

"There's nothing I want more, my love! You said, there's something you wanted to tell me. Please, what is it, my love?"

You took a deep breath, pressed a soft kiss to his lips and leaned your forehead against his.

"I'm ready, Lo. Take me to Jotunheim whenever you see fit. I want eternity with you!"

"So shall it be, my Lady!"

Loki smiled blissfully. He had never been sure what your final decision might be. He was so utterly, indescribably happy and captured your mouth in a devouring kiss. When he deepened it, passionately, demandingly, possessively, with you in his arms melting into his kiss and embrace, his skin turned blue. He felt so content and safe in your arms. You would be his, and his alone. Forever. And he would be yours, forever and irreversible. A warrior for his one and only Queen, a lifelong devoted servant for his goddess.

People walked by, benevolent smiles on their faces, seeing you and him showing off your love for each other in a breathtaking kiss…and no one cared. No one was astonished about an alien King with blue skin kissing an earth girl. They all saw a beautiful couple, sitting on a bench, utterly in love. And perhaps some of them were a bit jealous because they wanted to have what you and Loki had.

"Do you still like hot chocolate, my Lady?" He asked you and his skin turned pale again.

"Of course, I do Sir!"

"Then let's go to our cafe, my love. I'd never want to miss one of our coffee-cocoa dates!"

When you arrived there you immediately knew why Loki had left you early in the morning. Every table and chair in the cafe was placed aside. You two were the only guests here this afternoon and your waiter was already waiting for you. He escorted you both to your table at the window and served some of the best champagne Loki could find in the city and also your beloved hot chocolate and Loki's espresso was served soon. In a shimmer of green a big bouquet of green roses appeared in Loki's hands and he passed them to you. You thanked him and you kept the bouquet in your arms like a treasure until the waiter brought a vase.

"Lo, please tell me this is not a dream."

"It's not a dream Snowflake. And if it's a dream, we both dream about the same things at the same time."

He held your hands tightly in his as if he was afraid you could leave if he didn't. But you were glued to him and your glance was fixed on his eyes.

"I love you, Lo!"

"And I love you, Snowflake!"

Music began to play in the café, a waltz and Loki rose from his stool.

"May I have this dance, my Lady?" And he bowed and offered you his hand.

"I'd love to dance with you, my King" and you put your hand in his.

Loki walked you to the middle of the room, brought you two in the correct dance position, pulled you gently closer to him and danced the perfect waltz with you. You couldn't take your eyes off each other. Nothing else around you mattered. It was just him and you and you danced and kissed until the time had come to go back home for the family dinner.

There was still one thing you were suspicious about. Loki's phone call. With whom did he talk? When would he tell you about it? One thing was for sure, he didn't call someone from Jotunheim, this kind of technical communication was impossible. You just had to wait and see if you would ever get an answer.

But you trusted him. Endless. And you knew the day would come when he would tell you about it. At least this was what your gut feeling was telling you…and it never betrayed you.

❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

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@lokisprettygirl @wheredafandomat @anukulee @stupidthoughtsinwriting @lovingchoices14 @smolvenger @fictive-sl0th @huntress-artemiss @lokixryss @tactac286

#loki #loki x female reader #loki x reader #loki x you #loki x reader fluff #loki laufeyson #loki x reader fic #loki x reader angst #loki x reader smut #loki x female reader angst #loki x female reader fluff #loki x female reader smut #jotun loki x reader #Spotify

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ao719 · 1 year

Text

Best Kept Secrets

Best Kept Secrets - Nothing’s For Sure (Chapter 9)

Characters belong to Pixelberry.

Summary: An unforeseen encounter with the past proves that even the best-kept secrets eventually make their way into the light.

Title inspiration: Our Story - Graham Colton

Book/Pairing: TRR; Liam x F!OC

A/N: Not beta’d. Please excuse any errors.

Rating: M • Warning: This series will contain NSFW material. If you read, you acknowledge you are 18+

Catch up here

Taking in a deep breath, Liam stretched the sleep from his body as he shifted to his side in the bed. The faint scent of wild blackberry and orchid filled his senses, and his eyes slowly fluttered open, revealing her long brown hair splayed against the crisp white pillow; his eyes traveled down the expanse of her bare back to where the sheet was draped over her hip, covering her lower half. He let out a quiet breath as flashes from the night before began to replay in his head: her lips on his, her silky skin under his touch, the sounds she made, the way his name dripped from her lips in pleas, falling asleep with her in his arms.

If he could, Liam would relive that night a thousand times over.

Seeing her begin to stir, his gaze traveled back up, and she started to turn toward him; his eyes fell on her face as hers began to flutter. Liam met Amara’s blue-eyed gaze a moment later, and he softly smiled. “Hi …”

Amara pulled the sheet up. “Hi.”

Liam smiled softly as he drank her in. “How is it possible for you to wake up looking this beautiful?”

“A charmer first thing in the morning, huh?” Amara chuckled sleepily. “And it isn’t possible, you’re just half asleep still.”

“Well, in that case, I like this dream,” Liam smiled as he reached over, brushing the wisps of hair away from her face. “Did you sleep ok?”

Amara couldn’t help but be slightly amused at the casualness of his question. “Yeah, I did. You?”

“Better than I have in a long time.”

Earning another smile from her, Liam pulled her to him before closing the small space and pressing his lips to hers; she eagerly returned the gesture as her hand gently curled around the back of his neck. As the kiss deepened, their bodies began to shift in the bed, limbs entangling beneath the sheets as they quickly became lost in that moment. His hand outlined the curve of her body, stopping on her thigh; he pulled her leg up to his waist, smiling into the kiss when a whisper of a moan escaped her.

However, as much as Amara didn’t want to stop, they had to talk. “Liam,” she whispered against his lips.

Liam drew back to look at her. “Yeah?”

“What … what does this mean? Last night? … Right now?”

“I …” Liam let out a soft breath. “I don’t know,” he said quietly. He searched her eyes, getting lost in their brilliant blue. “I do know that after last night … whatever this may be … I don’t want it to stop.”

Amara stared up at him. After that first taste of him last night, she didn’t want it to stop either, but she didn’t know how this was going to continue considering their — his — circumstances. The fact of the matter was that Amara was free to do what she wanted; Liam was not. Not only was he married, but also a King, who had eyes on him at all times.

Then something struck her, something he had mentioned during their first real conversation in the garden maze.

“I don’t want it to stop either,” Amara whispered.

“Good,” Liam smiled before brushing his lips against hers, but she stopped him before he could kiss her.

“So you’ll have to speak with Madeleine?” Amara questioned.

Liam furrowed his brows in confusion as to why she would want him to speak to his wife. “What?”

“Isn’t that your … deal?” Amara asked. “That you two discuss any … arrangements you may have?”

“Oh, uh …” Liam trailed off for a moment before slowly nodding. “Right.”

“And that … that’s what this would be between us … just … an arrangement of sorts …” Amara ignored the unexplainable pang in her chest at her own words.

Never would she have thought she’d willingly be someone’s secret. Yet here she was, asking for it.

Liam stared at her, remaining quiet for a moment. This went beyond just an arrangement, at least for him. He had feelings for Amara, very strong feelings that had been building for a while now. They were feelings that had only strengthened after the night they spent together. He wasn’t entirely sure how she felt about him; he knew there was something there on her end, evident by her saying she didn’t want whatever this was between them to stop, but to what extent, he didn’t know. Regardless, it didn’t change how he felt about her. He and Madeleine never discussed that topic; they never talked about what it would mean or what would happen if feelings were to ever get involved in any arrangements. He supposed it was an unspoken rule that didn’t need an explanation.

Arrangements were supposed to be casual; feelings could cause things to get complicated and chaotic. Keeping it casual ensured that time spent together would always be brief and to the point; it drew a line in the sand. Feelings could create problems … for more reasons than one.

Liam needed Madeleine’s permission to continue in an arrangement just as he had given his permission to her. Things would be discussed between them regarding who it was, how often they expected to see them, non-disclosure agreements being signed, and so on. If Madeleine knew of his growing feelings for Amara — something he wasn’t sure he would be able to hide from her, at least not well — and if she thought that Amara may return those feelings, he wasn’t so sure she would agree to it, not without a fight anyway. He didn’t want to fight, but he didn’t want to stop seeing Amara either.

“Liam …?” Amara whispered, pulling him from his thoughts.

“I’ll talk to her,” Liam said.

“Today? Once she gets here?”

“Yeah,” Liam assured her. He looked over at the clock on the nightstand; it was almost 8 am. Madeleine would be expected in Valtoria within the next hour or so. “But until then …” He trailed off as he looked back at her, catching a glimpse of her smile before he captured her lips again.

Taking in a slow breath, Amara arched her back to stretch the sleep from her body; she felt an arm slightly tighten around her, pulling her closer. Her eyes snapped open as the aquatic nuances of his cologne filled her senses and his soft breath rustled her hair; she was nestled into his side with her head on his chest. She closed her eyes as flashes from the night before filled her head: the library, the passion and desperation, his lips and teeth marking her, his strong hands everywhere, and coming back to his room to spend half the night seemingly trying to make up for lost time.

Amara’s eyes opened and she could feel the anxiety start to slowly creep up inside her as her gaze shifted upward to Liam’s face; he was still asleep beside her.

There was no turning back from this now, not after last night. Everything that Amara had been trying to bury regarding her feelings for Liam had now been laid bare. She was still in love with him, and he knew it. No, they hadn’t had some in-depth conversation about it, too preoccupied with one another to do so, but he knew because he knew she wouldn’t have crossed that line otherwise. He knew because he knew her; he’d always been able to so easily slip into the cracks of the deepest parts of her that she tried to keep hidden and pull out every raw truth.

All but one.

A breath escaped Amara as her mind wandered to the lingering secrets between them, one in particular. Now that they were here, what was she going to do? It was something she’d struggled with since first arriving back in Cordonia and seeing Liam again for the first time in two years.

It was … delicate.

It wasn’t something that Amara could continue to keep from him, nor was it something that could simply be blurted out. And once Liam knew … things were going to change. Everything was going to change. It was something that could go a myriad of different ways, but she was certain that he was never going to look at her the same … and that terrified her.

“Hi,” she heard Liam’s raspy voice.

Amara lifted her gaze to see him looking at her, and she swallowed thickly. “Hi …”

Liam leaned forward. “Sleep ok?” he murmured against her forehead before placing a kiss there.

“Yeah … you?”

Taking in a slow, contented breath, Liam nodded. “I did.” His fingertips ran languidly up and down the length of her spine as they stared at one another; he could sense her thoughts were jumbled. “Are you ok?” he asked quietly.

“Yeah,” Amara answered. She wasn’t sure if it was the truth or a lie.

“You look like you have something on your mind …”

Amara let out a breath. “I have a lot of something’s on my mind, Liam.”

“Do you want to talk about them?”

“No,” Amara shook her head before tilting it away from him. “Not right at the moment.”

Liam’s finger scooped under her chin, gently lifting her gaze back to his; his hand shifted, settling on the side of her neck as he leaned closer. “You know you can talk to me,” he whispered, brushing his nose against her cheek. “About anything.”

Amara’s heart slowly dropped. “I know.”

Drawing back just enough to meet her gaze, Liam searched Amara’s eyes for a moment. He knew there was something on her mind, something she wanted to talk to him about, but he also knew that pressing her on the matter wouldn’t achieve anything. Whatever it was, he didn’t think it was anything consequential that he needed to pry out of her; she would talk to him when she was ready.

Right now, he just wanted to be with her without worrying about anything else.

Liam leaned in and captured her lips in his, and she returned the kiss eagerly. Without breaking away, he rolled to his back, pulling her on top of him; he kissed her slowly as if they had all the time in the world.

To him, they did.

Happy didn’t begin to describe how Liam was feeling about where things between them had ended up going the night before. For the first time since her arrival back in Cordonia, he knew how Amara felt; he saw it in her eyes and the way she looked at him, he felt it in her kiss and the way she touched him, and he watched that veil finally drop away, solidifying it all.

It left him feeling hopeful.

Knowing they both still held onto those feelings from their past, Liam couldn’t help but feel like this was a second chance for them, one he’d spent the last two years believing he’d never get; when Amara left, he never thought he’d see her again, and he knew she thought the same of him.

Unlike last time, however, they had a real chance at making it work because nothing was standing in their way.

Drawing back for a breath, Liam looked up at Amara as he combed her hair away from her face. “Stay with me today.”

“Liam—”

Liam silenced her with another kiss. “Please,” he whispered against her lips. “Everyone is leaving …” He kissed her again. “My schedule is clear today. We can stay here … have the whole place to ourselves.”

“I can’t …” Amara replied. “I have to get back to the hotel. I have … things I have to check on and take care of and work to do.”

“You can do your work here,” Liam said before kissing her again.

“We both know I wouldn’t be doing much work,” Amara jested in return. “And none of my stuff is here anyway.”

“I can have it brought here for you.”

“I … I can’t, Liam,” Amara shook her head. “I have to get back. I’ve already been gone all night.”

“What’s that matter?” Liam questioned playfully. “I’m sure Daniel got by just fine without you for one night.”

Amara smiled despite the pang she felt in her chest. “Be that as it may … I still can’t stay.”

Liam let out a soft breath as he dropped his head back on the pillow and looked up at her. “Can I ask you something?” When she nodded, he reached up, tucking her hair behind her ear. “This … last night … what does it mean?”

The weight of his question was heavy. Amara knew what she wanted it to mean — what she hoped it could mean — but there was so much riding on the unknown. At that exact moment, Liam was blissfully unaware of how things would inevitably change. She rested her chin on her hands that were folded across his chest, staring at him for a long moment. “I … I don’t know,” she answered quietly.

“I haven’t said everything I’ve wanted to aloud … trying to give you space and hoping that my actions have shown enough for you to know how I still feel about you, but in case there were any doubts … Amara, I—” Liam stopped when she placed a finger over his lips.

“Don’t,” Amara shook her head. “Don’t say it … not yet.” When he furrowed his brows, she let out a breath. “We don’t know what’s going to happen and I — I don’t …” She trailed off. “Just don’t say it yet …” Of course she knew — and she felt the same — but him saying it aloud made it more real … and would be sure to make things more difficult.

Liam stared at her for a moment; he supposed a part of him understood where she was coming from, but the other part of him still wanted to say it. He loved her. He never stopped. And although they both knew it, he wanted her to hear it so there could be no doubts. He simply nodded instead, however, respecting her wish. “Ok. But this … being with you again … I don’t want it to stop. There are no obstacles this time. It’s not like before, Amara. And I just … I feel like this is a second chance for us … and I don’t want it to end here.”

Amara held her breath, feeling her heart momentarily stop at his words. “There are no obstacles this time.” Though he didn’t know it, everything he was saying was only making things harder. “We just … have things we need to figure out. You say there are no obstacles … but it’s not that cut and dried, Liam.”

Liam let out a soft laugh. “You mean because of the divorce and making the statement?” No, that was only but a small part of it, but she nodded anyway. “I don’t mind keeping things between us for now until that’s figured out … but we can still explore this. We can take things day by day … I just want to know we’re on the same page.”

Amara chewed the inside of her cheek for a moment. “Day by day … we’ll see what happens.”

Liam smiled as he pulled her back to him and kissed her again. “And you’re sure you can’t stay?” he whispered against her lips.

“Liam—”

Cutting off her protest with another kiss, Liam shifted to roll her onto her back. As the kiss deepened, his thigh pressed between her legs, and she arched into him as she let out a quiet moan against his lips. He smiled as he slowly drew back. “Not so eager to leave now, are you?” he quipped in a whisper.

Amara stared up at him, amazed at how easily he could get her to surrender; she curled her hands around the back of his neck, drawing his lips back to hers, but before they could meet, they were interrupted by the sound of Liam’s phone ringing. A sigh mixed with a disapproving grumble escaped him as he rolled away from her and reached for his phone on the nightstand.

As Liam answered his call, Amara took it as her cue; she sat up on the edge of the bed, pulling the sheet around her. Hearing her move, Liam glanced over, watching her rise from the bed to gather her discarded gown from the floor before disappearing into the bathroom.

A few moments later, Amara reappeared just as Liam ended his call. He sighed as he rolled to his side and propped himself up on his arm. “That was Rashad. My day was supposed to be free, but it seems the council wants to have a meeting.”

Amara nodded. “Ok.”

Standing and holding the blanket around his hips with one hand, Liam’s other hand curled around her waist. “Thank you for deciding to come up for the festival … I’m really glad you did.”

Amara smiled halfheartedly. “Me too …”

Liam leaned down, kissing her. “What’s your schedule like this week?”

“I’m not sure,” Amara shrugged.

“I want to make plans to see you,” Liam said with a coy smile.

“Liam, you haven’t made the announcement. We still need to be careful …”

“I know. And we will be,” Liam nodded before kissing her again. “I’ll give you a call later and we can figure something out?”

Amara stared at him for a moment before letting out a quiet breath. “Ok,” she nodded.

Liam leaned down, kissing her once more before she turned and headed for the door; he watched her open it and cautiously peer out before slipping into the hallway, closing the door behind her. He flopped back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling as his mind began to fill with thoughts. He was unable to contain his smile as he let out a breath.

It seemed things might finally be falling into place.

****

After arriving back at the hotel, Amara stared at the floor as she rode the elevator up to the penthouse suite. When it came to a stop, the ding as the doors slid open pulled her from her daze; she let out a breath before stepping into the hallway.

When Amara entered the suite, she furrowed her brows when she was met with silence. “Imogen?” she called out as she shut the door. She dropped her bag to the floor and looked around. “Imogen?” she called louder. When there was still no answer, panic washed over her as she rushed down the hall; she peered into one of the guest rooms to find it empty before moving to the other, which was also empty. Amara ran back down the hall towards the other. “Imogen?” she shouted.

Suddenly, Daniel appeared as he stepped out of the bathroom. “Hey! You’re back.”

Amara continued to look around. “Where is she? Where’s Imogen?”

“Went for some fresh air. I was going to go too, but I figured I’d wait here for you.” Daniel knitted his brows as he took in the worry in the sound of her voice and the look on her face. “What’s wrong?”

Amara let out a shuddered breath as she dropped her head into her hand. Without warning, tears began to fall.

“Whoa, what the hell happened?” Daniel asked as he rushed toward her; he guided her to the sofa and lowered them both down. Amara shook her head as she took in a breath, attempting to calm herself. “Something happened with you two last night …”

Closing her eyes, Amara hesitated for a moment before she nodded. She didn’t need to go into detail; he knew. “He thinks … it’s a second chance for us,” she said through a hitched breath.

“Well … maybe it can be.”

Amara looked at him. “How? He’s not … he’ll never …” She trailed off as she dropped his gaze, pressing her palms against her temples. “What am I going to do?” she whispered.

“You need to talk to him, buttercup. You can’t keep doing this to yourself. You’re falling apart at the seams, and now you’re becoming paranoid,” Daniel said, referring to her panic just moments before. “This isn’t fair to either of you … but particularly him. The sooner you talk to him, especially now, the better.”

Amara shook her head. “I don’t … know how,” she choked out. “I don’t even know … how to bring it up.”

“I can’t tell you how to do that,” Daniel said. “All I can tell you is that you’re not doing yourself or him any favors by continuing to put it off. No, it’s probably not going to be easy, but I don’t think there is any right way to go about it … you just need to do it.” She knew he was right. The problem was that it was so much easier said than done. She took in another breath and slowly let it out as she wiped her cheeks. “Are you alright?”

Amara rubbed her eyes. “I don’t know …” She looked at him again. “I need to get in the shower, but can you do me a favor?”

“Anything.”

“Call Imogen and tell her to come back. I want to take today … and just …” Amara sighed.

“I get it,” Daniel nodded. “I’ll call her.”

****

After spending the remainder of the day having some very much-needed quality time that helped put her at ease, Amara walked inside her bedroom and changed into her pajamas. She sat on her bed and opened her laptop, checking her email. In the middle of typing out a reply to one, her phone rang with an incoming video call.

It was Liam.

Amara took a breath before answering. When his face popped up on the screen, he smiled. “Hey, you.”

“Hi,” Amara responded.

“What are you up to?”

“Replying to some emails. What about you?”

“Relaxing.”

“How’d your meeting go?” Amara asked.

“Well, that’s one of the reasons I’m calling. I have to meet with Rashad again tomorrow because the council wants a plan in place to announce the divorce …”

Amara’s brows furrowed. “That has nothing to do with me.”

“It kind of does. I want you to be there.”

“Liam, not only do I not need to be there, I can’t be there,” Amara shook her head.

“Yes, you can.”

“There’s a reason I asked Daniel to take the lead on that for you,” Amara countered. “Set aside the obvious conflict of interest—”

“That only you and I know about,” Liam interrupted with a subtle smirk. “Well, and Daniel, Drake, and Riley, but we don’t have to worry about them saying anything.”

Amara gave him a look. “I can’t be a part of that when I’m working for Auvernal.”

“Which is exactly why I want you there,” Liam said. “You’re working directly with Bradshaw, which gives you insight that I don’t have. I know this is going to have him reeling because it’s going to put a damper on the whole betrothal idea.”

Amara subtly stiffened. “I … I thought … you said you didn’t want that.”

“I don’t,” Liam stated. “Perhaps you can speak with him in the morning … feel him out to see how important that aspect of his terms truly is since that’s where his issue is going to be; no marriage means no heir, which means no betrothal. If it’s really a deal breaker for him or he’s not willing to make some kind of compromise, then there’s really no need to continue the alliance talks and no reason for me to be tip-toeing around making this announcement for the sake of not upsetting mister manchild. Personally, the sooner I can make the announcement, the better.”

“Well, is there even a point in me talking to him?” Amara asked.

Liam’s brows knitted. “What do you mean?”

“Are you still on the fence about the alliance in general? Because if you’re not truly considering it, what’s the point of me potentially riling Bradshaw up with a conversation regarding his stipulations?”

“Truthfully … I’m still up in the air.” Liam sighed. “I still don’t know if I can trust them, Amara … regardless of their terms.” He could see a bit of hesitation in her expression as she dropped his gaze and nodded. “Listen, you did your part in getting the people to see Auvernal differently. The rest is up to me. If this falls through, I’ll make sure he knows that you did the job he asked you to do. You don’t have to worry about that.”

“I’m not worried about that.”

“Then what is bothering you?” Liam asked.

Everything. “Nothing … we just … we both said that we think he might know something about our past and that’s why he may have hired me,” Amara said. It was a valid concern, just not anywhere near the top of her list; she was only using it as an excuse to not say what was really bothering her. “I just don’t want to make him more suspicious.”

Liam shook his head. “First, I still don’t think he knows anything concrete because as I said before, he would have played his cards already if he did. Second, even if he did, so what? Is that really something we need to worry about now?” he asked rhetorically. “Once the announcement is made, our past is not going to matter.”

Amara closed her eyes; if she didn’t know better, the conviction in his voice would make her believe him. But Liam had no idea how wrong he was.

“Ok?”

Opening her eyes, Amara met his gaze again. You need to tell him. Just tell him. She swallowed thickly … then nodded. “Ok,” she whispered, feeling herself deflate inside at her lie. She couldn’t do this over the phone.

“So … will you come tomorrow with Daniel?”

Amara let out a quiet breath. “… I’ll be there,” she nodded.

“Thank you,” Liam smiled.

A noise from down the hall pulled her attention, and she glanced up before looking back at the screen. “I, uh … I don’t mean to cut this short, but I have to finish going through these emails.”

Liam nodded. “What time should I expect you and Daniel so I can let Rashad know?”

“I’ll let you know for sure after I call Bradshaw, but probably early afternoon.”

“Ok,” Liam smiled. “And … maybe we can make some plans for after?”

“We’ll, uh … we’ll see …”

“I promise, I’ll make it worth your while,” Liam chuckled with a wink.

A sad smile played on Amara’s lips as she stared at him through the screen; he seemed so happy, and he was being so open with her about his intentions and what he wanted … but she wasn’t doing the same. “I’ll see you tomorrow …”

“Goodnight,” Liam smiled.

“G’night.”

*******

The following morning, after spending 45 minutes after breakfast trying to clear her thoughts for her forthcoming conversation, Amara sat on the bed in her room. Taking in a deep breath, she slowly exhaled as she tapped the name in her contacts before placing the call on speaker.

“Ms. Onasis,” Bradshaw answered after only one ring.

“King Bradshaw.”

“How is your time in Cordonia faring?”

“It’s … good.” Amara cleared her throat. “I wanted to let you know that I have a meeting later today with King Liam and a member of his council to discuss … Auvernal’s bid for the alliance.”

“Oh?” Bradshaw questioned. “And how is the bid looking?”

“Well, your approval ratings with the Cordonian people have taken a turn for the better.”

“I knew hiring you was a good move,” Bradshaw said proudly. “Is that all you wanted to tell me? I have a golf game to prepare for.”

Amara rolled her eyes. “No. I had some … questions before going into this meeting.”

“What questions?”

“Pertaining to the alliance … and your terms.”

A brief silence settled between them on the phone. “Is King Liam using you to try and get information out of me?” he asked, sounding almost amused.

“No,” Amara lied, trying to think quickly. “I only ask because … of rumors regarding one particular aspect.”

“What rumors?” Bradshaw grumbled.

“I’ve heard through whispers that the Cordonian people, while feeling differently toward Auvernal, are having … concerns regarding rumors they’ve heard of a possible betrothal condition in the terms.”

A sardonic laugh escaped Bradshaw. “And why would they concern themselves with that?”

“They feel … that it’s archaic and unnecessary.”

“Yes, well, I wouldn’t expect feebleminded commoners to understand the importance of such a thing.”

“You can’t call these people feebleminded if you want them to put their trust in you, Bradshaw,” Amara ground out.

“It’s not as if they’re going to hear me say it,” Bradshaw scoffed. “And regarding their concerns, again, I wouldn’t expect them to understand the importance of such a tradition. Betrothals between kingdoms have been happening for centuries. And I’m sure King Liam was expecting those particular provisions.”

“And … what if King Liam wasn’t too keen on the idea?”

Bradshaw let out a breath. “And what exactly do you know about that, Ms. Onasis?”

“Nothing,” Amara lied. “I’m just thinking that he doesn’t … they don’t even have an heir to go into such an agreement with … so I could understand if they felt that particular stipulation wasn’t necessary to have in the terms.”

“They don’t have one yet. It is Liam’s duty to his country to produce at least one heir to his throne. It’ll only be a matter of time.”

“Ok, but—”

“Enough,” Bradshaw bit out. “The terms, which will stay exactly as they are, are none of your damn concern and have absolutely nothing to do with what you were hired for. Stick to your expertise, and I’ll stick to mine. And Ms. Onasis …”

Amara clenched her jaw. “Yes?”

“Do not try to cross me to get information for King Liam again.” Without another word, he abruptly ended the call.

****

Later that afternoon, Amara walked inside the palace with Daniel for their meeting; they followed Bastien up the grand staircase and down the hall toward Liam’s study. When they approached the door, Bastien opened it, gesturing for them to go inside. “He’s on a call. He’ll be with you shortly,” he smiled.

“Thank you, Bastien,” Amara nodded.

As the door shut, Daniel plopped onto the sofa in the seating area of Liam’s study as Amara glanced around. After their night together, the pieces of their past that she had been trying to force herself not to think about had been erupting to the surface. Since her arrival back in Cordonia, she had nothing but bouts of déjà vu, feeling as though, in some ways, she was reliving her story with Liam all over again. And what they shared in Valtoria the other night was exactly how things had begun before, making it even more difficult to continue to keep those memories locked away.

Amara’s eyes fell on the King’s desk; she approached it, running her fingers along its mahogany surface.

As Constantine and the other members of Liam’s council bid their goodbyes to one another after their meeting had come to an end, Amara and Liam subtly locked eyes. She dropped his gaze when she saw his lips start to quirk up in a smile, feeling her own form.

In the few weeks since their first night together in Valtoria, the two couldn’t seem to get enough of each other. They shared moments during the day anywhere they could: his study, staterooms, and offices. They snuck off from events to coat closets and bathrooms, even the SUVs when they found themselves alone in one. And at night, they were tangled in the sheets inside her hotel room or his chambers.

They found themselves enraptured with one another, never satiated, always wanting more. Neither one realized how deep they were truly falling. They already had feelings going into it, but those feelings were flourishing into something neither one imagined, cloaking every rational thought.

“Well, things have really taken a turn for the better,” Constantine spoke, pulling both their attention to him as the others filed out of the room.

Liam grinned. “They’ve been going well.”

“That’s an understatement,” Constantine smiled. “Your approval ratings have skyrocketed, Liam.” He turned to Amara. “Hiring you couldn’t have been a smarter move on our part.”

“Just doing my job, sir,” Amara smiled.

“You’ve gone above and beyond. Liam has a lot to thank you for.”

Amara could see Liam in her peripheral vision, rubbing his hand over his mouth to stop his laugh, and she suppressed her own, knowing exactly what he was thinking: he was thanking her in more ways than anyone knew. “I appreciate that, sir,” she nodded.

Constantine’s eyes dropped to the charm on her necklace when he noticed her fidgeting with it. “I always see you wearing that,” he smiled. “What is it?”

“Oh, uh …” Amara glanced down, resting the charm on her thumb so he could see. “A compass, sir.”

“Very nice,” Constantine nodded. “Well, I suppose I should get going. I have to meet Regina for lunch.”

Liam followed his father to the door as Amara lingered behind; she watched as he bid him goodbye, and when Constantine exited the study, Liam shut and locked the door before turning to face her with a playful smirk. He approached her and curled his hands around her waist as he leaned down, capturing her lips in his. “I’ve been wanting to do that for the past hour and a half.”

“Like you didn’t get enough last night,” Amara quipped.

Liam shook his head with an impish smile. “It’s never enough,” he whispered before kissing her again, more insistently this time.

Amara drew back. “You have a meeting to prepare for.”

“I have 15 minutes,” Liam countered before his lips were back on hers. As their tongues curled together, he walked her backward toward his desk; when he sat in his chair, he pulled her down so she was straddling his lap.

One of Liam’s hands tangled in her hair as the other disappeared underneath the skirt of her dress. He let out a low, mischievous laugh against her lips when his hand dipped beneath the thin piece of lace, effortlessly sliding his finger against her. “Been thinking about me?” he teased through a husky whisper.

“Liam …” Amara softly gasped before she kissed him again. As he continued to tease her, her fingers fumbled against the buttons of his shirt before peeling it open. She ran her hands across his taut chest before they dropped to his belt; a moment later, he raised his hips, sliding both his pants and boxers down as she pulled her dress off and dropped it to the floor.

As Liam lowered himself back into the chair, he let out a groan when he felt her hand wrap around him, feeling himself swell even more in her grasp; he drew her mouth back to his, kissing her fervently as she stroked him. A moment later, what little patience he had was gone, and he slightly raised her hips, pulling the lace fabric to the side before shifting her forward; she moved her hands, gripping his shoulders as she lowered herself down, drawing a moan from both of them as he filled her.

“Fuck,” Liam hissed.

Amara rocked against him as he caressed her body. His one hand slid up to her hair and he tugged her head back; he leaned forward, trailing his lips and teeth down the exposed column of her neck, being careful not to leave any marks.

As their whispered moans grew louder and their breaths mingled, both nearing the edge of release, Amara suddenly slowed her pace when Liam’s desk phone began to ring. He pressed his hands into the small of her back, pulling her forward and urging her to continue as he ignored the phone until it stopped ringing, but it began again almost immediately after.

Liam leaned forward, picking up the receiver as Amara stilled. “Yes?” As Bastien spoke on the other end, an impish grin crossed Liam’s lips; he shifted Amara forward as he bucked his hips, pressing her face into his neck to keep her quiet, and clenching his jaw to silence himself. “Thanks,” he quickly spoke before hanging up.

Amara began to laugh as she looked at him in surprise. “You can’t do that!” she admonished.

“Do what?” Liam feigned innocence with a playful smile. He stood from his chair, lifting her with him before laying her back across the desk as his hands gripped her waist. “They arrived for the meeting early, but I plan to finish you off first,” he smirked before driving back into her, ripping a moan from her throat as her back arched.

“Amara?” At the sound of Liam’s voice, she turned; he noticed the flush on her neck and cheeks as she met his gaze. “Are you alright?”

Seeing Liam staring at her, and feeling Daniel and Rashad’s curious eyes on her as well, Amara let out a breath and cleared her throat. “Uh, yeah …” she nodded as she stared at him. “I’m fine.”

Liam gestured for the seating area, and as Amara walked by him, he placed his hand on the small of her back. The subtle affectionate gesture caught her off guard; he never did that in the past in front of others because they had to keep what they were doing a secret, but he didn’t seem to feel that way now, doing it with both Daniel and Rashad there.

“How did your talk with Bradshaw go?” Liam asked as they all sat down.

Amara scoffed. “Well, he hung up on me if that tells you anything.” She looked at Liam, seeing his brows raised in surprise. “He’s not going to change his mind regarding the betrothal. He said as much. And he told me the provisions of the alliance were none of my business and that it was between you and him.”

Liam nodded, seemingly unfazed. “Well, I think that tells me everything I need to know.” He glanced at Rashad, who nodded in understanding and agreement. “Any alliance talks with Auvernal are officially off the table.”

“What?” Amara questioned, taken aback. “Just like that?”

“Yes,” Liam answered calmly. “I told you it was something I didn’t want, and I meant it. If he’s not willing to compromise, there’s no sense in wasting anyone’s time.”

As Liam and Rashad began discussing speaking to the rest of the council about the decision he just came to, Amara glanced over at Daniel; he gave her a subtle look, knowing what she was thinking.

With the alliance talks abruptly ending, her job was officially done. She was free to go home … but she knew she couldn’t.

“So, knowing this announcement has no bearing on anything between Cordonia and Auvernal, we need to figure out the next steps,” Liam said, pulling Amara’s attention back to him.

“The council is hoping to go about it … gently, so to speak,” Rashad explained. “They’re more concerned about the reaction from the people and they’re worried about the monarchy being seen as unstable.”

Amara glanced at Daniel, and he met her gaze, imperceptibly nodding in an understanding of the look on her face before looking at Liam. “I think your best bet would be to go into making the announcement with Madeleine at your side. You’ve shown over the last couple of years that the two of you are a united front, and although your marriage may be ending, that still needs to be the case. You need to show that this was a choice that wasn’t made lightly, one that you came to together, and that things between you are amicable.”

“Well, that won’t be difficult,” Liam said. “We did come to the decision together and we have nothing but respect for each other. I have no doubts that she would agree to be there with me to make the announcement.”

“You and Madeleine will have to get together and write up a statement to give,” Daniel suggested.

Liam nodded. “That will be no problem.”

“And you and Madeleine both need to be clear in letting them know that this does not affect your ability as their monarch,” Daniel added. “That your priority will always be your country and your people and they have nothing to worry about in regards to that, that Cordonia can still thrive regardless of your marital status. Just … level with them as much as you can. Address any concerns you know they will have, and allow time for them to ask questions if they want that you and Madeleine will answer together.”

“Is …” Amara trailed off as they all looked at her; she glanced at Daniel who gave her a nod to ask whatever she was about to. “Is Madeleine planning to stay on as some sort of council to you?” she asked as she looked at Liam.

“We’ve discussed some options for her,” Liam nodded. “But nothing is set in stone yet.”

“That would be something worth mentioning,” Daniel said, offering Amara a thankful smile for bringing it up. “Despite the divorce, that will show her support for you as a friend and monarch going forward. That you’re still somewhat of a team even though your relationship has changed.”

Liam nodded. “I’ll reach out to her tomorrow about all of this.”

“Once you have the statement ready, just let me know, and I’ll make the arrangements for a press conference,” Daniel said.

Liam smiled, tapping his thigh with his hand as he nodded. “Sounds like a plan.”

Amara couldn’t help but notice Liam’s eagerness to get this announcement over with. He didn’t seem worried at all about any reactions he may get; he looked almost elated. He only seemed focused on getting it done and moving forward. For her, the more it sunk in that he was making the announcement sooner rather than later, the more nervous she felt.

“Well, I think that’s all for me,” Rashad smiled as he stood. “I’m sure we’ll see each other again,” he said to Daniel as he extended his hand and shook his. “Liam,” he gave a nod as he clapped him on the shoulder. “Amara,” he smiled, kissing her cheek.

They all started toward the door, and once Rashad disappeared into the hallway, Liam stopped Amara. “Can you stay for a bit …”

Hearing the question, Daniel turned to look at her. He met his gaze, giving him a long look; he wasn’t sure if it was a silent plea for help or advice. “I’ll meet you back at the hotel,” he smiled before stepping out and shutting the door behind him.

Daniel went with advice; Amara needed to talk to Liam, and if that meant forcing her hand to be alone with him, then so be it.

Amara stared at the wooden door, taking a breath before turning to face Liam; his hands were in his pockets as she met his gaze. They stared at one another for a long, silent moment, and she could feel that familiar pull towards him no matter how much she told herself to fight it. He offered a subtle smile as he walked towards her, lifting his arm; his hand pressed against the door behind her, and she looked up at him. She felt herself falling right back into that place they were two years ago, unable to get enough despite knowing there was so much more at stake.

When Liam leaned down, he paused a hairsbreadth from her lips, searching her eyes as he waited, seeking permission. Amara instinctively tilted her head and closed the distance between them, capturing his lips in hers as his other hand dropped down, locking the door.

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galesleftearring · 6 months

Text

How sweet agony can be

Abdirak x Tav, Gale x Tav (no relationship, just yearning) VERY 18+

Larkspur, a half elf cleric of Ilmater, wants to explore the connections of her religion and the worship of Loviatar, two gods long established as enemies but with some very similar characteristics. Meeting Abdirak in the Goblin Camp gives her an opportunity to explore this dynamic in ways she couldn't quite anticipate. But back at camp, there's someone she can't totally get off of her mind... someone she can't help but compare this experience to, wondering how he would touch her instead.

Content Warning: bdsm (all of this with verbal and negotiated consent!!!!), physical restraint, whipping, nipple/clit torture, mentions of birth control, alcohol, sadomasochism, religious discussion as foreplay (and much more), m!dom f!sub, mixed feelings after sex, exploring kink and sex isn't always completely fun and that's okay!, casual sex/hookup, emotionless/loveless sex, injuries/bruising after sex, if I missed anything else please let me know!

Larkspur was no stranger to pain. As a cleric of Ilmater, her worship had involved a fair share of pain, both her own and that of others. She was no stranger to worshippers of Loviatar, and their cruel practices. She was no stranger to the divine rivalry between the two gods and their orders to undermine the work of the other, in whatever way necessary. Still, she was fascinated by Loviatar worshippers, fascinated by their love of pain and devotion to it. In a strange way, it felt like a perversion of her own devotion to alleviating pain. Perhaps the two gods needed each other for balance, for order. At the very least, they needed each other to continue their respective holy missions.

Meeting Abdirak in the goblin camp had been a surprise, but not an unwelcome one. She had long wished to speak in depth to a worshipper of the pain goddess, hoping for an intellectual discussion of their respective religions and an attempt to find some common ground. Abdirak was more than willing to share his knowledge and experience with Loviatar with the party, though Karlach and Odile were less interested than Larkspur herself. Karlach laughed, excited to see the spectacle, but did not offer up her own body. Not that Larkspur would have allowed her to. Gale... Gale seemed a bit horrified, if fascinated. "Your hide, your choice," he shrugged. "Not quite my cup of tea though." He always relished an opportunity to learn. Larkspur did too--she liked that about him. He seemed like a kindred spirit, though he was still closed off in many ways.

Larkspur knew that she was the only member of the party who would be willing to suffer at Abdirak's hands. Not only that, but she felt it was her duty to do so; no other member of her party would feel the pain if she could take it upon herself. Ilmater guide her, but she hoped this exercise would draw her closer to her God--or at least closer to an enlightened understanding of Loviatar. Each swing of Abdirak's mace fell harder on her back. The pain was almost unbearable, only made bearable through the whispered prayers she offered to Ilmater with each shuddering breath. She moaned, she whimpered, she cried out--but she did not move. The mace slammed into her three times, and Abdirak's swings were accompanied by praise. Praise to Loviatar, yes, but also praise to Larkspur herself. If she didn't know any better, he almost sounded... aroused. With the third strike, she felt as if she would pass out, her silent prayers turning from a deliberate recitation to an unintelligible plea. Abdirak stopped, and she turned to look at him as he offered her pain to his goddess.

"Sweet child," he purred, "you bore that pain like a true believer."

Larkspur's body shook, her mind frantically grasping at his words. It is my duty, she thought, though the words wouldn't come.

"Loviatar herself found your performance.... Inspiring. She has deemed you worthy of her blessing," he continued, and Larkspur felt a sudden peace as the goddess's blessing settled onto her shoulders. She could still feel the pain, certainly, but it was almost pleasant. There was an eroticism to the dizziness, the sparks of pain tingling at the end of every nerve. Her body was aching, exhausted, but undeniably alive. Abdirak seemed to sense her sudden calm. He smiled discreetly, as though the others were not in the room. "And on a personal note, thank you. That was positively divine." The words were almost a whisper, but they rang in Larkspur's ears like a bell toll.

Her head swam. Her heart thudded. She felt inspired, certainly, but not sated in her discovery. She hoped to ask Abdirak more questions, but he was already busy, cleaning his weapons and talking to one of the goblins. She would have to come back, she realized, and she would have to come back alone. Ordinarily, this would have terrified her, but Abdirak seemed safe enough. Odd really, but what could he do to her that would be worse than what she had just endured?

It wasn't long before the party decided to make camp for the night, exhausted from their exploration and hoping to stave off combat for as long as possible. Fighting could wait until after a good meal and a long sleep. Well, a long sleep for the others. Larkspur had a feeling she and Abdirak would be talking late into the night, if he would be willing to discuss their divine differences.

Gale made a delicious potato soup for dinner, rich and creamy despite their somewhat limited ingredients. Odile had suggested that perhaps he was using magic to augment their meals, and Larkspur thought they were probably right. Either way, the food was delicious. She made a mental note to ask him for the recipe--if they made it to Baldur's Gate alive, Larkspur would want to recreate the dish once everyone had parted ways. The thought was bittersweet, but she pushed it aside. Now is hardly the ideal time to get more attached to your companions. We are all on death's door at every moment. Do not make their loss harder on yourself than it already will be.

The richness of the soup settled into everyone's bellies as sleepiness took them one by one. Karlach and Odile were laughing quietly with Lae'zel, who seemed frustrated that she didn't get whatever the joke was. Shadowheart had already gone to sleep, and Astarion and Wyll were taking turns throwing Scratch's ball. Or rather, Wyll was throwing it while Astarion heckled him. Gale was cleaning up his cookware when Larkspur stood up and stretched, but began to head to the entrance of camp instead of her tent.

"Going somewhere?" he inquired, surprising her. Larkspur hadn't felt his eyes on her back.

"Yes," she responded, "I-uh, I have something I need to do. Something I need to understand." It wasn't a lie, but she felt her cheeks flush as though it was.

His brow furrowed slightly. "Ah, I see. Well, be careful. I trust your judgement but I... but we will need you again come morning. I doubt our coming battles will be easily won, especially without your healing prowess."

Larkspur nodded. "Thank you, Gale. I'll-- I'll see you in the morning." It was a promise she fully intended to keep.

When she left the camp, she found Abdirak's corner of the desecrated temple with ease. She had hoped he would still be there, and as luck would have it he was. And as luck--or Ilmater, or Loviatar--would have it, he was alone. Larkspur hesitated slightly at the entrance, shivering in the drafty air. She had not replaced her armor after dinner, and her thin camp clothes were not enough to stave off the chill. Her lack of armor was a peace offering, to ensure that Abdirak knew she was not a threat. Larkspur hadn't come to hunt a heretic, and she did not want him to think she had. Unarmed, she stood in the archway outside of his altar. She felt suddenly shy, unsure of what to say to draw his attention away from his table of weaponry.

Possibly he had heard her footsteps, or possibly he had sensed that she would have more to say. Either way, he turned to her before she had the chance to say anything. "Welcome back, dear one. I did enjoy our prayers earlier." His tone was completely sincere, no trace of irony or double entendre.

"What drew you to Loviatar worship?" Larkspur blurted out before she could come up with a less direct question.

Abdirak shrugged. "What drew you to Ilmater? Probably much the same. There was suffering in my life which I could not control. The pain was becoming unbearable. I wished to learn how to bear it."

Larkspur nodded. "I believe the two gods have more in common than others might at first suspect."

Abdirak smiled, delighted by the prospect of someone to discuss esoteric topics with who was not an Absolute cultist. "As do I," he drawled, "without Loviatar, Ilmater would have nothing to repair. Without Ilmater, Loviatar would have no reason for her destruction."

"Precisely. Each views pain and suffering as a tool, just with opposite implications."

Abdirak nodded slowly. "This is, I believe, why you did so well for me earlier today. Why you did so well for Loviatar. You truly understand the nature of pain, the depths of it. The comfort that it can bring, even if you derive that comfort from the alleviation thereof."

The two continued talking in hushed tones for a few moments, comparing rites and practices within their respective sects. The conversation was undoubtedly refreshing for each of them, not only because of their similar viewpoints but because neither of them had been able to engage in any kind of deep theological debate since the rise of the Absolute, if not before that. Larkspur couldn't remember the last time she'd been able to intellectually spar with someone in such sacred territory, and she was grateful for the opportunity. Thank you Ilmater, thank you Loviatar, she offered silently.

Abdirak pulled a bottle of wine from under his table, offering Larkspur a swig. She took it gladly, feeling its warmth splash down her throat and settle in her belly. "My sweet child," Abdirak looked at her as her lips wrapped around the bottleneck, "surely this conversation made you want to...pray... again? Attempt to apply the knowledge we have gained in worship?" His eyes glistened with hunger, but he held still and maintained the distance between them.

Larkspur nodded assent. "We owe it to our gods to take advantage of an opportunity to commune with them both. Perhaps our breakthroughs may grant their guidance to other worshippers, if the gods approve of our actions."

Abdirak stood, his broad chest flexing. "We will have no audience this time except for our gods. What a splendid offering we shall make. Are you prepared to give yourself completely in that pursuit?"

Larkspur had suspected that this would be the nature of their prayer. Rising from her seated position on the ground, she unlaced her shirt and tossed it aside. "If it pleases Ilmater, I will pray in whatever way he will hear me."

"In that case, dear one, do not stop there. Undress."

Larkspur shivered slightly, more anticipation of what was to come than the cold. It seemed the goblins had largely gone to sleep as well, so there was little risk of being seen by anyone other than Abdirak himself--not that that mattered as much to her as she would have expected. First she stepped out of her boots, then her pants. She peeled off her socks and slid out of her small clothes, leaving her standing in front of the altar fully exposed.

Abdirak's eyes raked over her, trailing from the tattoo on her throat to her breasts, nipples pricking with cold and arousal, to the soft curve of her stomach, and finally to the fold between her legs. "Good girl," he whispered, "Loviatar will surely be pleased with your offering."

Larkspur breathed once, twice, silently dedicating their actions to their gods, before turning to face the wall once more. "I am ready. Pray with me."

Abdirak needed no more encouragement. Selecting a whip from his table of instruments, he began to brush it across Larkspur's thighs and buttocks, picking up speed and force with each swing of his hand. The audible sting of the whip left Larkspur grinding her teeth, fighting the urge to whimper. She did not want to give in so early; she suspected this would be a long night and wanted to savour every moment. Whether that was for her god's benefit or her own, she was unsure.

When the pink stripes along her legs began to purple in the candlelight, Abdirak put the whip back on the table. "You were so quiet," he said with distaste. "Our gods will hardly be able to hear our prayer if you maintain such stoicism. Let yourself enjoy the act. Get lost in it. Only then can Loviatar find you."

Larkspur turned to face him. "Ilmater blesses those who suffer silently," she murmured, pupils wide. The warmth in her core was certainly not divine in origin. The wet growing between her thighs was undeniably mortal.

A low growl rumbled from Abdirak's throat. "Does he not bless those who suffer willingly? Does he not bless those who relish in that pain?"

Larkspur's breath caught. "Teach me to relish it, then. Show me how sweet agony can be."

His hands were on her waist before she had finished her sentence. Abdirak pressed his full weight against her, pinning her to the wall. He was much larger than she was, and fully dressed except for his exposed chest. She felt her nipples rubbing against his taught abdomen, felt his erection pressed into her soft thigh. Wordlessly, he pulled her hands up by the wrists until they were above her head, the stone rough and cool against her bare flesh. Taking a cord from around his waist, he tied them to a hook she had not realized was there a moment before. He wedged a knee between her thighs, forcing them to spread as he raked his nails down the tender undersides of her arms and down her torso. When he got to her hips, he continued to pull her legs apart until she was spread as wide as she could be against the wall, shackling her ankles in place.

Holding up the key to her chains, Abdirak took her chin into his other hand. "Listen, devoted one. If at any moment you wish our worship to stop, you have only to ask me for this key. Do you understand?"

Larkspur nodded, dazed somewhat, her thighs and back still aching from his prior ministrations.

"Answer me. Let Loviatar and Ilmater hear your consent. Let them know we devote this sweet moment to them," he ordered. His voice was heavy with anticipation, clearly holding himself back.

"Yes, yes, please, yes," Larkspur whined, sounding much more pitiful than she intended to.

Abdirak picked the whip up once more and began flicking it across the front of her thighs, moving higher, its sting biting at her pelvis, her stomach, her breasts. As the pain moved from her thighs up to infinitely more sensitive places on her skin, she felt herself writhe against her bindings. No release came from behind her, however--only the scrape of rough stone along her back. The pain was starting to blur into pleasure, and she offered it to her god. "Ilmater--bless this pain! Hear my prayer!" she wailed. In response, Abdirak flicked the whip directly across her nipples. A mewling sound burst from her lips as she arched her back into the sensation? Away from it?

Abdirak groaned, raising his voice to the heavens. "Loviatar, take this offering, grant us your understanding!" He put the whip down, removing his cloak and placing it beside his instruments of worship. Larkspur hung from the wall, panting, her cunt slick and her legs aching. "Shall we continue, my sweet supplicant? Or do you want me to let you down?" Abdirak's hand traced Larkspur's cheek.

Larkspur knew that the pain she had experienced so far was only one small fraction of what Abdirak could do to her. She knew that if she asked, he would let her down without question. But she also knew that the gnawing in her core would not be satisfied with just a whipping, that her prayers could be much more enthusiastic. "More," she pleaded.

Abdirak drew his hand back and slapped her across the face, hard. "Good girl," he praised, drawing his hand again across her other cheek. Larkspur gasped. No lover had ever dared use such force before in her limited range of experience, and she was unsure if she liked it or not. "Good girl," he repeated. "Our gods are so pleased with your performance. They will be thrilled with an encore."

His hands travelled down, pinching and twisting her nipples until she was once more arching her back and moaning. He slapped each breast for good measure, drawing louder and louder keening from her lips. When he was satisfied, his rough hands tugged her hips as far off of the wall as he could. With one hand he supported the arch of her back, while with the other he began to smack her pussy. She couldn't squirm away, couldn't do anything to stop the burning sting of his palm against her throbbing clit. The agony was ecstatic, and she heard herself screaming.

"YES, YES! LET ILMATER HEAR YOUR CRIES, DEAR ONE! LET LOVIATAR BLESS OUR OFFERING!" Abdirak roared, his words rising above her scream. Then, as soon as it had begun, he stopped touching her. Larkspur lay against the wall, dripping in sweat, shaking with pain and pleasure and religious fervor. His lack of touch almost hurt more than the torture she had been so willingly taking from him.

Abdirak had broken contact so abruptly in order to remove his pants, revealing a long cock already twitching with want. "If I spill in you, can we be sure that no unwanted consequences will come from this?"

Larkspur nodded, squirming again. She was on fire, painfully aware of the bruising stripes across her legs, the scraped flesh of her back, the emptiness within her cunt, now suddenly twitching and contracting around nothing. It was horrible, it was wonderful, it was confusing and overwhelming and an experience that made her glad she had a charm preventing pregnancy.

He waited for confirmation, then grabbed her hips once more to line up with her entrance. He was not gentle. From the first thrust, he was pounding into her, each push scraping her already torn flesh against the stone once more. Burying his face in her neck, he bit a line from her ear to her shoulder. She half expected him to draw blood. Each time his teeth met her skin, Larkspur squealed, rolling her hips up into Abdirak's.

"Loviatar, take her pain," he chanted between thrusts, "Ilmater, take her pain."

Larkspur was beyond the point of forming words. A high, desperate wail was turning to sobs when Abdirak came, grunting and pounding into her with damn near impossible speed. She felt his cock twitch and pulse inside her and knew with the stuttering of his prayer that he had reached orgasm.

Abdirak pulled out, taking a clean rag from a chest and pouring water from a carafe onto it. Gently, he slipped it between Larkspur's folds, catching his dripping cum before unshackling her ankles and untying her wrists. He wet a second rag and rubbed her scraped back, gently cleaning the sweat and blood before moving to wipe her limbs and torso. He looked her over, assessing her injuries with a pleased expression. "What a beautiful sacrifice you made, sweet one," he hummed into her ear. "Can you make one last offering before I send you on your way?"

He slipped one, two calloused fingers into her slit, tracing a circle on her clit with the index finger of his other hand. Larkspur was still shaking into his hand, and it took little stimulation from Abdirak for her to follow him into orgasm with a soft howl. He held her steady in his lap for a moment, waiting for her to come down before helping her rise to her feet.

"Surely our gods will be pleased with the prayers we raised up tonight. I know I was," he smiled warmly. "If you ever wish to pray again, you know where to find me. I enjoyed exploring the divinity of agony with you."

Larkspur smiled weakly. The experience had been a unique one, certainly, and not unpleasant, but she was unlikely to seek out such intimate brutality again.

Feeling suddenly very small and alone as Abdirak walked into the darkness of the temple, Larkspur pulled her small clothes on, wincing with every touch of the cloth on her battered skin. Lacing her breeches, pulling her shirt over her head, Larkspur felt a deep exhaustion settle into her bones. She didn't even fully lace up her boots before stumbling out of the altar to Loviatar and trudging back to camp. Every fiber of her being ached, and she couldn't decide if she was stifling cries of joy or misery as she reached the campfire and her warm tent. She couldn't quite decide if she had enjoyed her experience, or if her deity had. Still, even in her dazed and overstimulated state, she couldn't help but notice that a small light, as if from a candle, was snuffed out in Gale's tent as she opened the flap of her tent. He waited for me to come back, she thought sluggishly, or is that just a coincidence?

Her eyes fluttered closed and sleep washed over her. The loneliness has dissipated slightly at the sight of that candlelight. Whether Gale had been quietly waiting to be sure she got back safely or simply reading late into the night, the knowledge of his presence was comforting. She knew she would be unbearably sore come morning, and that the mouth-shaped bruising on her neck would not be easily explained away as battle wounds. Odile would certainly ask questions, smirking all the while. Karlach would probably congratulate her on getting some with a hearty slap on the back, which would hardly make the bruising and scabbing along her spine heal faster. Astarion would be disgusted, or jealous, each in an effort to disguise some truer feeling. Whether he would be jealous that Abdirak got to ravish her or that she got to be ravished Larkspur couldn't anticipate. Lae'zel and Shadowheart would sniff in disapproval if they knew how she had spent her night, viewing such activities as a waste of time in such a dire situation. Wyll would be too tactful to say anything, a true gentleman. But Gale... How would Gale respond to the knowledge of what she had experienced? The intimate bruising, the loving ministrations of pain made private. She didn't feel shame, exactly, but she did feel a soft sadness descend on her. Ilmater's will be done she murmured, but why do I feel so empty?

Her sleepy, lust-tainted thoughts wandered to Gale. Gale's beautiful hands, such long fingers... How would they feel buried inside her as Abdirak's had been? Gale's voice, low and sensual in her ear... Would he ever say such praise to her as Abdirak had whispered? Gale's intelligence, his interest in all things arcane or intellectual... Could she have such electrically charged conversations with him? Gale's eyes, so sad but so warm... Larkspur couldn't imagine him being so harsh with his hands, so rough with his hips. Part of her wanted him to be, but most of her wanted him to be soft and gentle. Above all, she just wanted him to touch her. Since pulling him from that portal, the feel of his hands had been traced into her memory. He had shown little to no interest in her so far beyond the platonic, and that was probably for the best, but GODS did Larkspur want him to want her as badly as she wanted him.

She drifted into sleep, wishing that Abdirak's rough hands had been Gale's tender ones, wishing that her bedroll was warm with his body heat rather than cold with the absence of the lover she had shared her night with. Her last thought before sleep claimed her was Ilmater, forgive me. Loviatar's suffering should have been a gift. I am grateful. But still, the emptiness in her core betrayed her lie.

#mine #abdirak #abdirak x tav #gale x tav #yearning #larkspur #baldur's gate #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate fanfiction #can't always be romantic sometimes you need some filth

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queerprayers · 1 year

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Hi! Could i ask you about your thoughts on judas please? Do you think he knew he had to fulfill the prophecy? Do you think he went to hell, if so, why wasn't he forgiven as well? Sorry if these are stupid questions, i'm a bit new to bible study and the bible in general

Thank you, beloved, for an excuse to talk about Judas! Here we go! And these aren't stupid questions at all—actually, they're questions continuously debated throughout history by even experts.

*This is a content warning for mentions of Judas's suicide and discussion of its motivations/implications. No explicit/violent details.*

To my knowledge, here are the main interpretations/readings of Judas:

Judas is the ultimate evil. He betrayed our Lord and Savior and killed himself in shame. His possible motivations could be: personal hatred/jealousy, theological/ideological issues, greed, possessed/tempted by devil, political issues/felt a duty to the empire, and/or selfishness (fear of arrest/execution by association).

What was meant to happen happened. Judas was a necessary part of God's plan, and whether he knew it or not, he helped complete the mission. He didn't do the right thing, per se, but he did the necessary thing.

Judas had good intentions—he thought if he willingly handed Jesus over, less harm would be done to Jesus, his followers, and the wider Jewish community.

You could back up many of these views with Scripture. And all of them are valuable to consider. Here are my thoughts:

Judas was handpicked by Jesus. Jesus called those he wanted, that they might be with him and send them out to preach. Judas was not a spy from the beginning, impersonating discipleship or scheming to destroy his Master—Luke says he became a traitor. He had joined Jesus's followers, and became close with his teacher. There is much we don't know about him, but we know he was supposed to be there. I do believe Jesus loved Judas as a dear friend, as well as a child of God. Jesus knowing someone would hurt him did not prevent him from seeking out all the love he know he would also experience—this is a microcosm of his relationship with every human. Jesus seeks out relationships with people he knows will betray him, over and over. "Do what you came for, friend"—even at the end, he was beloved.

In John, Jesus tells Judas, "What you are about to do, do quickly." Some have interpreted this as Jesus wanting Judas to carry out his plan, because it's necessary for Jesus's mission. You could also hear it as a plea, though, and this is how I hear it today. "Judas, I know what you have done, and will do. I know your heart. Go. Do it. Great things will come of it, but it will hurt me. At least do it quickly. Don't sit here with me any longer."

I don't know how much Judas knew. It's clear in Jesus's conversations with his disciples that Jesus himself is the only one who knows the whole story. Killing yourself after a betrayal doesn't scream confidence in the necessity/goodness of the act to me. And killing yourself before the story is over doesn't seem like you know the whole story. Perhaps a prophecy like that can only be fulfilled when it happens, not when someone tries to bring it about. Or maybe he did know. Maybe he sacrificed himself, knowing someone had to bring this about. I don't think we can know.

The Satan/demonic possession angle is interesting to look at. Luke and John both say that Satan entered him—you could be literal, but for me this doesn't describe a supernatural event, but a human one. Satan is the adversary, the opposite of God, evil. Evil enters us all the time, whenever we carry out something that is adversarial to God. Satan entering into Judas is him making up his mind. It's him giving in to evil, the moment of evil overpowering his heart.

Greed as a motivation is present in Matthew, where Judas explicitly asks how much money he would receive if he betrayed Jesus. In the other Gospels, the silver seems to be more of a reward/payment after the fact.

Whatever reason he had, however he convinced himself that it would be okay, whether he wanted money or safety or a new beginning, he had a hand in the execution of a (by most metrics) innocent man, and it wasn't worth it. He was filled with remorse and tried to return the money. No matter how much Satan Judas had in him, he still had love, too. And it wouldn't let him rest.

This is the biggest tragedy of Judas's story, and the reason he sticks with me: if you'll permit me to quote a favorite sitcom of mine, he quit before the miracle happened. He heard Jesus's sentence, and killed himself before the execution. Yes, he spared himself witnessing/hearing about/processing Jesus' death, but he also prevented himself from witnessing Jesus' resurrection. He couldn't deal with the guilt, and so did not witness redemption. If only he had stayed three more days. If only he could have seen that he didn't ruin everything, that there was hope. If only he had reached out to his friends, begged for forgiveness, mourned with them. I do not know what would have happened, or what Jesus would have said to him. He took away that possibility of earthly forgiveness with his own hands. He removed himself from the story.

I reread some relevant passages to answer this ask, and I noticed a couple things I've never considered before. First, that Judas received the first Communion. I guess I just never thought about it, but this strikes me today. Jesus also washed his feet at that supper. And then, reading John, I wept reading all that Jesus tells his disciples after Judas has left. If he had stayed, he would have heard, "In a little while you will see me no more, and then after a little while you will see me." He would have heard, "Now is your time of grief, but I will see you again and you will rejoice, and no one will take away your joy." Maybe his heart would not be changed, but perhaps, later, he would have remembered those words, and held on.

Over and over again, I just think, if only he had stayed. Lingered at the table a few moments more. Mourned his teacher and friend properly. Permitted himself life a few days longer. Left himself open to miracles. May we remember this lesson in our darkest moments.

Oh, a bonus point: We all know Judas betrayed Jesus with a kiss. But in Luke, as Judas approaches him in order to kiss him, Jesus asks him if that's what he's planning to do, and it seems he never ended up kissing him. Forgive me for this lack of commentary, but I can't emotionally process this. Let's move on.

We are not told by the gospels whether Judas is forgiven. We are not told where his soul rests. We're given the facts, but not much else—no clear motivation, no moral, no epilogue. We don't know how the other apostles reacted, or if Jesus visited his grave. He does what he does, disappears from the narrative, and we are left with the pieces.

I have complicated thoughts about Hell, but however we imagine life after death (something I don't think is even possible for us to process) I can't see any child of God being abandoned, much less one picked and known intimately by Jesus. Judas received the first Communion. He embraced the living, breathing God. And yes, he threw it all away, in more than one way, but he is not forgotten.

I sometimes see Hellfire as love that we aren't able to accept. Rejecting life and the possibility of forgiveness the way Judas did, and then meeting God? That would burn. That sounds like the most painful thing of all.

But there are miracles on the other side. Maybe it's taken him two thousand years to exist with Jesus peacefully, but I pray every day that he is.

Here are some things that make feel things about Judas:

Judas by Jeff Loveness and Jakub Rebelka (graphic novel)

The Last Days of Judas Iscariot by Stephen Adly Guirgis (play)

The Last Temptation of Christ, 1988 (movie)

Jesus Christ Superstar by Andrew Lloyd Webber and Tim Rice (musical)

Corpus Christi by Terrence McNally (play)

"The Ballad of Judas Iscariot" by Robert Williams Buchanan (poem)

"The Ballad of Reading Gaol" by Oscar Wilde (poem)

"Judas" by The Reverent Marigold (song)

this post by illuminirk

this post by apriki

this post by notbecauseofvictories

everything boykeats has ever posted in his judas tag

"The Betrayal of Judas Iscariot" by overwhelmed (short story) (You're gonna have to bear with me as I link you to a fanfiction website on a Bible post. It's good, I mean it.)

God be with you as you study the Bible, and come as you are. Bring your baggage, and your weird feelings, and your compassion for the villains of the story, and your "stupid" questions.

<3 Johanna

#asks #judas #the wilde poem isn't about judas but it references him and the implications are gay so it's on the list <3

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