Spider Kisses

Oh the pain..

STRANGER THINGS

❛❛ ICE ❜❜ - Steve Harrington

“Knock them dead.” - Eddie Munson x Fem!reader

𝐁𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐟𝐚𝐬𝐭 time is the best time to eat! -> ೃ⁀➷ 𝐄𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐌𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

You and Eddie have a fantastic date.

 𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐞 𝐛𝐲 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞.

“𝐀𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐥𝐬 𝐑𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐓𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐬" pt 1

Date Night - Eddie Munson x Fem!reader

meow meow 'omelanduh

also lets ignore how messy of a drawer I am. I’m rusty and haven’t drawn in literal forever 🥲

THIS IS DOMA ORIGINAL DESIGN, HELP-

A Smile From Hell

[Homelander x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: Despite the amount of unpredictability The Homelander has, he still catches you off guard with something as small as a smile.

WC: 3576

Category: Angst, Supe!Reader {TW — Homelander for obvi reasons}

In honor of Season 4’s weekly releases, this one is for the Antony Starr girlies (and you @summerrivera777777)

『••✎••』

John fucking terrified you.

He terrified everyone, really.

He had the power to level an entire city block with a glance. He was strong enough to crush a man's skull with one hand and fast enough to catch a bullet. He was an unstoppable force of nature. He was The Homelander, and he was a threat to anyone who stood in his way.

But, the thing was...

You knew everything about him. Everything.

And he absolutely despised that, but there was nothing he could do to change it. You had seen him at his most vulnerable and pathetic. You had seen his humanity, it’s amazing he still has any after the way Vought has abused him, and you had seen his inhumanity.

Jessica, or Sister Sage, had confronted you on several occasions, trying to get you to tell her your secrets. She wanted the upper hand on her arch nemesis, the only one in the world who was a threat to her. It was her mission to end the reign of the superhero she hated most, and she was willing to do anything for it.

You could see right through her, and you didn’t need magnificent amounts of intelligence to do so. You could see the fear in her eyes. You could see the doubt in her face, hear the strain in her voice, feel her uneasiness when she was near him.

John knew it, too. He just simply chose to ignore it. He had grown used to being the scariest man in the room. It’s been that way his whole life, and it seemed it was going to stay that way.

But, despite all that fear, she came to you for answers. Again.

And this time, the question was a simple one. It was so simple, yet completely understandably complicated.

How are you allowed to live?

That was a question that stumped you. It took you a long time to grasp the meaning of it, the specific answer she was looking for.

After a few clarifications, you finally understood what she meant.

She wanted to know why John allowed you to live. She wanted to know why he hadn’t killed you. She wanted to understand why you were the only person alive after calling him by his name.

Not his stage name, his real name.

For being the most intelligent person on the planet, you’d think that she’d be able to understand it. I mean, the answer was right there, in front of her face. She didn't need to be a genius to figure it out; all she needed was a little more insight.

A little bit of understanding.

"Respect," you said, your voice soft. Your words were clear, though, and she heard them perfectly.

The confusion on her face was evident, as was her disbelief.

"What?"

"It's respect. Anyone I respect is someone that deserves my respect."

She snorted.

"Right," she said. "Like he could actually respect anything other than himself."

"He's capable of it if that's what you're thinking," you told her. "And this isn’t about him respecting me; it's about me respecting him."

She narrowed her eyes at you, her suspicion rising.

"Why would you respect him?" she questioned. "You're not blind; you know exactly who he is."

Yes, you did. You knew more than most, and compared to The Seven now, you probably knew the most. His actions? Completely unredeemable. He was, in fact, a monster; there was no arguing that. He was a horrible, twisted, monstrous individual; no one would deny it.

His actions weren’t excusable, but he had an explanation. A reason for why he was the way he was.

He wasn’t born a monster; he was turned into one. That… that was the respect part. You respected him because you respected his story. You respected his pain. You respected his anger.

You respected his past; anything after that was on him.

"I don’t like using stage names to those I respect enough, so I call him John. He allows it because he knows I don’t mean it the way others would if they used his name; it doesn't hold the same power with me."

She rolled her eyes at you.

"Same goes for you, Jessica; I have no desire to call you Sister Sage."

Her flinch was barely visible, but you still caught it. Again, what is intelligence if not knowing the chances of a particular outcome?

"I’ve noticed you don’t call Deep or that fire chick by their stage names, either."

You just smiled, leaving her to solve that answer for herself, and it didn’t take long at all. You knew the exact moment she came up with a conclusion. She was quite predictable, in that regard. Maybe you should’ve been the big-brained hero instead.

And now, you really should’ve been because when you turned down the hall, catching wind of the elevator doors opening, you knew he had listened to it all.

But you didn’t say anything, and you really didn’t say anything after a simple glance at him.

He was completely drenched in blood, a look that would terrify even the toughest of men. But not you, oh no, you were very used to that. He’s done a lot worse.

Besides, you were too distracted by the fact that the blood wasn't his. Too distracted by noticing how this time was different. He was smiling, but it wasn’t his usual cruel smile. This time, it was genuinely happy.

Relief, almost.

It reminded you of the night you two bonded. No, not that type of bond. The bond that told you both that you weren’t alone.

He had a friend, but he wasn’t really your friend. You don’t believe you could ever consider him one. Not really, not with the things he has done.

But, still, you were the closest thing he had to a friend. You were the closest he had to an equal, a person he could relate to. Jessica carried the same intelligence (obviously a lot more), but the similarities between the two of them stopped there.

You had a similar history but different outcomes.

And that reveal between the two of you happened that night. This was way back, even before Starlight joined. Back when The Seven was in its prime.

Stillwell threw a party, something she always loved to do before Teddy became her focus. It was the usual: people in fancy dresses and suits, lots of champagne and liquor.

The difference, however, was the main focal point. Usually, given Vought’s status, all of The Seven members were the main event. Everyone was mandated to wear their hero outfits. It was a great way to advertise and get people to buy more of the products.

The theme this time, however, wasn’t about the group. It wasn’t about any of you. For the first time in a long while, John wasn’t in the spotlight.

Due to this, Stillwell banned everyone from wearing their costumes. No capes, no spandex, no leather, no masks. Just suits and dresses.

It was nice, actually. A little break from the norm. It felt good to go a night without the tight leather on your skin. You were actually surprised at how well it was received.

The rest of the members of the group seemed to be having a wonderful time as well.

Except for one.

He was standing in the corner, glaring at everyone. Madelyn had an entire argument with him about the suit. You weren’t there, but you knew exactly how it went.

His costume was a part of him. It was a symbol. It was a mask. A representation. An embodiment of who he was. Without it, he was a naked target.

Madelyn clearly did not give a single shit. In the end, the argument resulted in the two of them getting into a screaming match, causing him to storm off in a fit of rage.

So, there he was, standing alone, seething at anyone who passed him. Madelyn won; of course, she did, and she didn't even bother trying to apologize. She wasn't sorry.

She was just mad that he refused to listen in the first place.

But, hey, that wasn’t your problem. You were enjoying yourself. The night was going pretty well; the alcohol was flowing nicely, and the music was just right. You were dancing and laughing and having a great time.

But, of course, things weren't always easy for you.

You weren’t expecting it to last long; you weren’t one to have good luck. You knew, deep down, that the night was going to come crashing down on you. You were just waiting for the ball to drop.

The ball dropped the moment you decided to go cheer up the sourpuss.

It was obvious the way his shoulders tensed, and his head tilted ever so slightly. He knew you were approaching. He was aware.

"Don't," he said.

He was clearly angry, and you weren’t smart enough not to push. This is where Jessica’s powers would have benefited you greatly.

You ignored his warning, walking up beside him, mocking his stance.

"You okay?" you asked, your tone soft and light, a hint of playfulness.

His eyes flicked over to you, and the glare he gave was terrifying. His eyes were so intense, and his teeth were clenched. You could see his jaw tensing.

He was a volcano, ready to erupt.

You could practically see the steam coming out of his ears.

"I'm fine." Humorously enough, it sounded like the opposite.

"Really?"

He turned his head to look at you, his anger increasing by the second.

"Don’t you have anything better to do?"

You shrugged. "Yeah, but I'm choosing to talk to you."

He looked away from you, grumbling, "And why's that?"

"Because you’re ruining the party," you answered. "Miserable face and all."

He rolled his eyes. He actually does this a lot, believe it or not. It's the only expression he has besides anger that isn’t fake.

"And why do you care?"

You shrugged again. "I care about enjoying myself, and I can't do that when you're moping."

He turned his head towards you. He was not amused.

"Go find someone else to entertain yourself with.” He pointed behind him. "I’m sure Deep will be glad to show off his fish facts."

That one caused you to make the same face he had moments ago. The absolute look of disgust on your face was enough to bring a smug grin to his own.

He knew exactly what he was doing.

"Don't make me throw up, John."

The name.

It was a simple slip-up, nothing more. But, of course, it meant so much more. This was before everything, so it doesn’t seem likely that a slip-up like that wouldn’t result in consequences, but it secretly was a turning point.

He could've killed you.

He could've easily grabbed you and thrown you across the room, and no one would be able to comprehend what had happened until after you were unrecognizable.

He didn't, though.

No, instead, he stared at you, his face blank, and his mind processing. You were nervous, of course. You had no idea what was going on in his head.

After a minute, a look of realization came upon him, and you could see the exact moment the gears started turning.

Then, a simple hum fell from his lips. One said he wasn’t expecting it but was deciding whether to accept it.

Then, after a few seconds, his face relaxed. His jaw was unclenched, his eyes softened, and his eyebrows relaxed.

"Let’s have a chat."

Uh oh. That’s a code red—a sign of danger.

You were so done.

And yet, for some odd reason, you followed him. You don’t know why. It was a stupid move, in your opinion. You should've run while you had the chance. You should’ve listened and just punched fishlips or something.

You didn’t, though.

You followed him, allowed him to fly you somewhere private, and just waited. You waited for your imminent doom. You were going to die; you were sure of it.

But, for some reason, your death never came.

Instead, the two of you landed on the tower’s roof, the cold New York air hitting you hard. He had set you down on your feet and went all the way to the railing.

You stood awkwardly, waiting for him to turn around with those beams in his eyes, but they never came.

He was just looking out into the city, his back turned to you, his hands on the railing.

After a few minutes of silence, he turned his head, looking at you through the corner of his eye.

"Aren't you going to ask?"

Ask what? What was there to ask?

There were plenty of things to ask, actually, and yet you had no idea what the right thing to ask was. Because, again, even here, he was unpredictable and unreadable.

You didn't want to anger him; you knew that for sure. But you were also tired of his mind games. It was a constant battle of wit, and you were sick and tired of being left in the dust.

So, you chose something simple. Something easy, yet not so simple.

"Are you going to kill me?"

You wouldn’t be surprised if he turned around with a smile and answered yes.

He didn’t, though. Oh no, he stayed turned, staring into the city, his eyes searching. Searching for what you didn't know.

"No."

Simple and clear.

You didn't respond, and he didn't elaborate. It was silent, and it was cold, and it was a tense moment.

But you didn't leave. You just watched him, watched his movements. The way his shoulders hunched over, his head tilting down, the grips on the railing, the way his hair slowly became unstuck due to the wind.

You always thought his hair looked better when it wasn't slicked back, but this is the first time you've ever seen it that way. It was… it was nice.

Then, his shoulders relaxed, and his head straightened. He didn’t turn around, and he didn’t speak. He just looked over his shoulder at you, his eyes piercing yours.

Even with a few strands of hair on his face, his eyes were so sharp and clear. So blue. So cold.

It felt like they were reaching deep into your soul.

It was terrifying. He was terrifying.

"Do you remember your parents?"

The question took you by surprise. It wasn’t what you were expecting, but then again, this whole encounter was the definition of unexpected.

"Yes. Why?"

His eyes scanned yours as if looking for a lie. Then, he turned back around, leaning on the railing.

"I can't remember mine," he said. "Sometimes I wonder if I even had them."

Oh. Oh. This was huge. This was a big one. You had to search deeply even to find out his actual name. Now, here he was, telling you of his past.

Of all people, he chose to tell you.

You didn’t know how to feel about that.

You were honored, yes. You were excited, definitely. But, most importantly, you were worried. Is this him letting you in? Or is it him preparing you for your demise?

It was an unknown territory, a field of landmines. You knew a lot about his past already, but now he was aware of the fact that you knew. He knows, and yet he is still giving you the information.

Why?

"I mean, it doesn't make sense. Everyone has parents, right? And I couldn't have been born out of nowhere. So, I must have had parents. A mom, a dad, some form of guardians."

His face was scrunched, and his eyebrows were furrowed. You could see the way his brain was working. He was really thinking about it, wondering how the pieces fit together.

He was struggling to make a connection, and he was mad at himself for not having it.

"I'm assuming your childhood wasn't the best," you said. You knew it was a risky move, joking about his past, but so far, he seemed to like the boldness and humor.

And he did, in fact, let out a snort.

"Understatement of the year."

You smiled but quickly stopped. It was a serious conversation, and smiling probably wasn’t the appropriate reaction.

Silence filled the space again, and he was back to thinking. He was trying; he was really trying. But he just couldn't.

It wasn't the fact that his parents were a mystery; he's come to terms with that. It was the fact that he couldn’t remember anything.

All he remembered was the torture, the pain, the experiments… nothing about how he got there. Nothing about the people before the scientists. Nothing about a home. And the fact that they were currently building a fake one for him made him so angry.

It was a mockery—a complete joke.

He felt all of these emotions and yet couldn't express them.

And he was frustrated. He was pissed off and tired and angry and sad and empty and-

"Did you rip off your tie?" Your eyes had caught sight of his bare neck, the black fabric missing.

It was the only way to pull him out of his head, and, to your surprise, it worked. You could see the moment he snapped back to reality, the moment he was pulled away from his mind.

"Yeah," he answered. "It was suffocating me."

You could tell.

His hair became more unkempt due to the wind. The strands of hair on his forehead were getting in the way, and it was getting annoying. Not for you, no, but for him.

For you, it was… humanizing. It made him seem a little less like a god.

He lifted his hand, his fingers gently combing through the locks. It was a struggle, a normal struggle that you've had with your own hair.

Plenty struggle with deviating the locks away from their desired location. You've had your own fair share of moments.

But this was the first time you'd seen him experience it. The first time witnessing him do something so simple and basic.

Such a human thing. It had you wondering what else he was capable of.

He sighed, his hand dropping back to the railing. Again, it is a normal thing to happen. But, it had you smiling, the corners of your mouth curving ever so slightly.

The action did not go unnoticed.

"What?" he asked, not even bothering to turn around.

You shrugged. "I've just never…"

Your mind kept changing images. His hair, his eyes, his shoulders, his jaw, his nose, his ears, his neck, his hand, his lips, his chin, his cheekbones, his eyebrows, his skin…

Everything is listed in your mind, including the little imperfections and details that make him, well, him. This was the first time you saw him anything other than perfect.

The perfect monster he was, the god of all men. The man of the century, the one to take the world by storm. The strongest, the smartest, the best.

The symbol, the image, the mask.

The facade.

This was the first time you saw him as just a person. A human being. Just a regular guy.

"Sometimes I wonder how different life would be if you were…"

Normal.

The word was at the tip of your tongue. You could've said it; you should've said it. It was the truth. It was obvious.

But you couldn't.

He knew where your sentence was going, though. Of course, he did.

"If I was… what?" He still wanted to hear it. He was looking for validation, and he wanted it from you. His eyes were on you, his body turned, but there was this one odd thing.

A smile.

It wasn't his usual one. The one you were used to. The one that made everyone scared and uneasy. No, this was a real smile.

A soft, small one, but still a real smile.

A true smile. As if he knew the words you were going to say, as if he knew your thoughts, and he found them amusing.

You found him amusing.

And just because of that, you didn’t give him the validation.

"It’s fucking freezing out here," You coughed in hopes of successfully changing the subject. "I’m gonna get a jacket."

He was going to argue, but you were already walking off, telling him you’d take the emergency ladder down.

Nothing was spoken about that night. No words were exchanged.

But something had changed. Something had shifted. You weren’t quite sure what it was, but it was something.

So, seeing that genuine smile again in that elevator was a shock.

He had the same face as he did on that roof. It was that smile. That one specific smile.

Capable.

That's what it was.

He was capable.

He was capable of feeling and being human. He was capable of being something other than a monster.

He was capable.

All he said to you when you walked by was a simple goodnight. Something so small, yet so big. This time, those words seemed to have a little more meaning.

So, just to raise his unsettling mood, you winked and said, "Goodnight, John."

Again, a smile.

The smile.

It was hard to continue walking, and it was even harder not to turn around. But you did.

You did it knowing you were going to have a hard time sleeping. Knowing that, no matter what, you weren’t going to forget that smile.

The demon that still had a little bit of humanity in him.

A demon that was capable.

Chapter one | the prince's comfort

Chapter pairings: Kaeya x f! reader

Series synopsis: Born and bred to be empress, your clan has sent many women to the royal court but never the most coveted position out of them all. Thanks to your schematic family, the moment you came to this world was when the first empress has been rid of, presenting the fate of a mere newborn. Try to adjust to your life in the throne as your heart is shaken by the men who came to your life, one after another. Either as a passerby, a lesson or perhaps true love.

Chapter synopsis: One night where you're left all alone to yourself, an unexpected guest welcomes himself to your life...and to your bed.

Tags: smut | forbidden love | first time | virginity loss | slight angst

wc: 4k words Taglist: @strverry @crstilia @ayatoistt @mnemosyneechan @elysiasbei @junephantom21 @kaitlinxyna @apr1cityyy @venti-cecilia @a0ruu @jackysenpaii @loveyasaraa @poweredbyghostadventures @noisyghostranchthing @traumamakesmefunnier @nxjttmr @asteller @earthernal @ultra-ummmm-blr @veralioz @sukunasrealgf @eeeeee12111111 @lizzyolanda1966 @qnnln @kyojade @salamiwrites @eliciana @thearcanafan @k-4lzki @clove-x @differentmusicbakingknight @simp4bakuh03 @deepdinosaurwizard @mei-simp @n-akaharachuuya @moonlightaangel

series masterlist

What you said years ago may be forgotten as time flies, children grow, people change and so do their dreams. You look out the window in your wedding dress; everyone around you gushed and congratulated you on your new life but the receiver didn’t seem to be an enthusiastic bride. 

The main path from Mondstadt gate to the cathedral was protected with an elemental barrier, behind those are joyous people who wave cloths, flowers, or simply their hands to welcome the new empress of the Teyvatian empire. The holy kingdom prepared grandiose decorations across their roofs, the sky, and especially the inside of the grand cathedral which took the sisters' breaths away. 

All of these are to welcome the wedding of Emperor Pierro and the Empress (y/n) (l/n). There was a rumor about how her family went through extreme means to get her the position and it almost cost her the throne but the clever people from her house dissipated the rumor like smoke.

The shouts got louder and the Favonius knights became alert; all eyes focused on the carriage that stopped in front of the gate. The door opens before you know it, one step of your bejeweled shoe and the reveal of the hem of your white gown; the journalists soon scramble to take photos and describe your style, a race on who gets to publish an article first. 

You grab the extended hand of your family's most loyal man, stepping out of the carriage with his help. Itto smiled brightly at you, one that always made you feel at ease as you're entering a foreign country on your first official visit. He was always the one who stuck by your side even if you used to be mean to him, following you like a puppy since you were kids. Sadly, the connection between you and him had to be severed inside the palace. 

You beam at him slightly, nothing like the gratitude you feel inside for him since you had to be careful with your appearance, people like to nitpick anything they see. "Goodluck." he whispers, and you nod poker-faced before lifting your chin to walk to the cathedral. 

It was exhausting, paired with the sun that scorched you throughout the long walk yet you can't move an inch of a complaint as your entourage of ladies are as stiff as stone. As soon as you reached the large doors, the knights don't immediately open them per instruction; “wait for her attendants to finish fixing the gown, hair, makeup, and when the attendants come back to their places, open the door wide for the new empress.”  

The grand sight of the cathedral welcomes you with its glorious stained glass, sparkling chandeliers, and sunray spotlights while the heads of the guest turn to you. You walk slowly and confidently, passing without a glance at any of the seats until you see the two members of the Imperial family at your right. The emperor at the front and the blue-haired prince at his back; you glance at Pierro's features, and are once again reminded that you and him have a large age gap. He's dashing for his age at least; besides you're not marrying for love, you marry for power. 

He offers you his hand and you take it, placing your soft skin against his rough and calloused palm. His hand was large as it covers your own for warmth, an action that eased you a bit. The organ resounds as the emperor and his new empress walk together to the altar, side by side, hand in hand to be blessed by the heavens.

After the wedding, the bride must be pampered to prepare herself for her night duties. Like how your hair was brushed by the servants, the tufts of light makeup on your face, your shoulder bare from the innocent yet provoking nightgown. The hands on you then stop when everyone hears a knock. "Come in" you command, and a shaking maid unable to meet your eyes stutters her announcement. 

"Word-word came from the emperor's palace. The emperor has f...forgone the first night. He said that the empress may retire for the night as she is exhausted from the long journey to the palace." 

Silence. Then the brush falls on the floor and the maid assigned to it screams her apologies. You don't what to feel about it but you were taught to decode the meaning behind one's actions. Were they already telling you your place in the palace? That you're just a young, naive, second empress? Does it mean he doesn't want an heir from you? Did he swear to never touch another woman after his wife died? you scoff—preposterous. Your left eye twitches as you grip the thin material of the nightgown too hard, your sharp manicured nails tearing a little hole in the lace. Oh how you wanted to rip it all apart.

"Everyone leave" One word from you and they all bow synchronized, leaving the tools at your vanity still arranged. You stand up and look at the window, gazing at the waning moon that's supposed to represent you. The moon of the empire. And it's getting smaller day by day just like the happiness dwindling out of you; to think that the palace would transform you into such a state…it’s frightening. You're so far away from home, far away from everyone and everything you knew and suddenly you're thrown into the den of wolves. With no one around you.

The lady that your family raised never cries, and is never vulnerable. She only shows her weakness that's made up and uses tears for the effect of capturing hearts. Unexpected it was that real tears dripped down from your eyes and onto your cheeks, and more unexpected it was that an intruder came to your palace late at night. 

"Oh my. Why is the empress crying on her wedding day?" A playful voice rang from below and you wiped your tears fast, looking down on your balcony and seeing the blue-haired prince smirking. You squinted your eyes, putting up a cold defense as you're reading his face. Mocking? Was he mocking you? Maybe he already knew what happened, word travels fast in the palace. 

"Prince Kaeya. Isn't my residence off limits without any permission to enter aside from the emperor? I'm afraid I haven't received news of your visitation." You say as a matter of fact and he froze, a fake reaction that made your blood boil. 

"Oh? Sorry about that. I was used to playing around my home, ‘forgot someone is now occupying this place.” His gaze turned a bit serious at you. He subtly mentioned his mother, the first empress, being the constant reminder that you were foreign to the palace. Kaeya could be harboring ill feelings towards you and your family, for taking away his mother, and his father’s affection. What a kid. You have to set your position right since you can't keep being treated like this. 

"Your mother is no longer here. As for that rumor…I’m afraid it has nothing to do with me." And at that, his smile fades on your effective provocation. "I'm the new empress now. Learn to respect me and stop dwelling on the past." 

Kaeya nods as if taking your words seriously. He doesn't talk for a minute and you decided to retreat to your room until he states his reason for visiting to prevent you from going back.

"I don’t believe in rumors that happened years ago so no need to go down that path. I just wanted to comfort you." And you turn to him in a whirl, expression floored as he has the utmost satisfaction of seeing your face looking amusing. Comfort? What comfort? 

"Come on empress, I'm just a bit older than you. We should be friends don't you think?" His age doesn't match his actions.

“I don’t want to talk to you.” “I don’t think so.” Kaeya shrugs. 

"Don't get cocky now. You aren't even the crown prince yet." You retort and he rolls his eyes. “Why does everything have to be connected to the throne?.” He huffs a sigh testing your temperament.

“I always hear those nags about being the crown prince, thought you would be different. But I can't blame you after all...the palace is a dangerous place to live.” And he leaves before bowing down like a cherry topping from the disrespect he showed you tonight.

"I know that. But I'm not going to end up like your mother." You reply to yourself, watching his back getting smaller from your balcony.

After that incident, you tightened the security of your residence to prevent that prince from coming again. Yet it’s proven to be useless as Kaeya is persistent when he always manages to find you in the palace and greets you with a “Good morning empress”, kissing the back of your palm as you look down on him in disgust. He always sits on your afternoon tea uninvited, this time is not an exception. But you were left alone so you stood up, head twisting to look if anyone was around.

“You’ll break your neck if you keep doing that.” He casually drops, placing tea for himself and downing it right away, lacking the proper etiquette. You’re starting to question if he’s really the prince.

“You’d probably like that don’t you?” You sit down and snap, and Kaeya had to hide his little smile in the teacup. He’s feeling it, you’re responding and warming up to him. He calls for a servant and wine, a glass for him placed on the tablecloth as the dark liquor flows.  

“I don’t like breaking necks but I like breaking backs.” He casually says while sipping, and you suddenly slam your teacup too loudly that it clangs. Kaeya who’s surprised by your actions thought you knew the innuendo behind it, but once again you never fail to disappoint him. 

“How can a prince be so violent?” And he burst laughing, his tummy hurting from the childlike innocence and your expression that’s done with him. What was so funny? You feel suddenly conscious about what you said. Did you interpret it the wrong way?

“Are you drunk?” 

Kaeya wipes the water from his eyes while you roll yours in exasperation. “I am not drunk nor violent like what you think. If you go out on the streets then you’d understand what I’m trying to say.” “I’m not that free to wander around in the streets. And I don’t like the messy and noisy environments.”  

He nods, pouring you a cup of tea when he saw it’s empty. All of a sudden he had good etiquette. “What a good laugh. If you weren’t off limits, you’d certainly be by my side…” 

Then he trails off, realizing he had a slip of the tongue and feared what face would you make. He has a knack for ruining things, didn’t he? Blue eyes slowly look at you, a side glance to see what would you feel about what he just said. 

Kaeya thought you would feel disgusted about him having that kind of thoughts about you, but when he saw your face…It sparked a little hope in him that was too bright. He didn’t know if he should pursue it or leave it alone. 

Your lips were curved, eyes blinking at him, mouth agape, and to him, you look flustered; just like the women he entraps with his flattery. “What did you say?” You croak, this was the first time your voice ever broke since you were a child. The empress can’t be vulnerable or show her feelings, that’s what you’ve been taught and drilled into your mind, it’s a very hard ideal to take out. But certain situations continuously show someone your inner feelings. The slight thump you felt in your heart was dangerous, it made you unable to speak and think properly. 

“Empress-“ 

“This is highly inappropriate.” 

“I was just joking!” “I think I need to go now. It’s not a nice joke.” 

You stand up scared from your inner turmoil, you’ve never been taught how to handle awkward scenarios. And so, you turn away with one last glance at Kaeya, and you run to the comfort of your four walls. You feel insane, you can’t think about what he said earlier. Verifying and demanding answers should be first but you’re just here thinking about the deeper meaning of what he said. You don’t think you can approach him again. 

He’s the emperor’s son for goodness sake! Your husband’s son! It’s a sin to be thinking about him like that, but he sinned first! You’re not in the wrong. It’s his fault, you should stay away from him and listen to your rational mind, reassess the situation —*knock*—you stop pacing around the room and suddenly fear the door. Instead of telling them to come in, you grab the door harshly to reveal the maid who was shocked at your appearance. Your mood went down as if expecting someone else. 

“What is it?” “Your Majesty. His Highness, Prince Kaeya requests for approval of visitation.” Your eyes slightly widen but you keep it together, preventing the maid from seeing any reaction. “When?” “Right now. He’s with the front guards.” You swallow and nod, thinking of his reason for visitation. He usually barges in but now he has the thought of following protocol. “Let him in. Lead him to the drawing room.”

He makes you so confused and stressed, earlier you just said to keep your distance from him but you can’t bear the thought of turning him away. You stare at yourself in the mirror, examining yourself if you look good enough, flattening and smoothing stray hairs, grabbing your favorite perfume, and glaring at it. Who wears perfume to sleep? You place it back down, and you stop at your indecent attire. Should you change to a more appropriate dress? Your mind was going back and forth, whether should you follow the right path or stray from it; until the overthinking ate you up with no time left to change as a knock resounds on the other side of the door. 

“Come in” 

The maid bows at the side, announcing Kaeya who’s looking at you with an unreadable expression. “No one shall come near my chambers. You may go now.” No questions asked the maid departs with a bow to the both of you. Shy gazes and an uncomfortable silence ensue as you make way for Kaeya and he enters timidly. 

“I’ll get you tea. I have no liquor inside my room.” You walk away yet he pulls on your coverup, exposing a bit of skin on your shoulder that scandalizes you. “Prince! What are you-“ Kaeya’s blue eyes linger on the bare skin, who knows what’s on his mind? You try to read his expression; his predatory gaze, his lips ajar, and his grip on your nightgown crumpled, all those details tell you what he wants. Your brows furrow in frustration from being able to read his actions. And so, you snap him out of his trance, putting back the cover on your shoulder. “What’s your excuse this time?” 

He clears his throat. “I wanted to apologize the other day. You ran off so suddenly so I must have shocked you. It was inappropriate of me to say that-” 

“It’s alright, I’m sure it was just a little mistake.” Your cold voice pierced through the air, cutting off his words. He nodded, looking down before staring at you darkly, it made you uneasy. 

“If you don’t have anything to say, you can go now.” “I have something to say. I still haven’t apologized properly.” 

Kaeya grabs your fingers lightly, looking down at them before speaking his mind. “I’m sorry for the other day but I wasn’t lying. And I can’t forget about it…” He says, forcing you to a corner as your mind goes haywire on what he’s trying to get to you. The answer was dangling in front of yet you refuse to look into it, afraid of what it will do to you. Yet that danger seemed to be exciting, thrilling, captivating; a trap for anyone who dives into it, and you, are a mere human who fell in.

“What are you trying to say?” A scared hush comes from your lips, fearing for the knowing response that comes next. It makes you squirm, makes your head spin, just as you find yourself anticipating his words. 

 “Just one time. A one-time thing. Please give me a chance.” Kaeya hopes he gets his message across to you, the overgrowing need for something forbidden was too strong. And it does get to you, but you needed one last confirmation from him that he’s ready to do this. 

“I think you’ve gone insane. Do you even know what you’re saying?” you ask, suspicious he doesn’t know what he’s talking about, yet Kaeya knows very well what he’s getting himself into. He already made up his mind before coming here. 

“I know…I know I hate seeing you cry. So please, let me wipe those tears away.” What tears? Oh, the one that fell from your eye, placing itself on your cheek; too many unknown emotions swirling inside are overwhelming you as your face then contorts.

“Let me make up for what my father lacked.”

Kaeya hated his father in multiple instances, and one is for taking him away from you. One time in an event for noble children; he saw you falling and bruising your knee, crying in the grass, and he almost ran to go help you. He wanted to approach this pretty girl and make friends but— “Kaeya. Let’s go.” —his father’s stern voice pulled him back, his little body freezing at the command of the emperor, and he’s forced to watch another boy urgently pick you up.  

And it even grew much more for trapping you inside the palace to become his wife, he was unbelievably disgusted when he knew you were chosen. Now this, his arrogant father canceling on your first night, abandoning the lonely empress and not even seeing or visiting you for once. His father was terribly good at deserting people. But why was he angry when he didn’t do anything to save you? He just wanted and visualized, keeping his anger to himself and never putting his mind to action. 

He was a coward. Kaeya was a coward. And was coveting his father’s wife his first act of rebellion? He doesn’t know if this was brought by anger or lust, maybe both, but he can’t think of those now that he’s got you under his body. 

Your hands claw at his v-neck shirt that barely covered his chest, his lips tasting you and making you his for the night. Just one night like he always does.

You never looked at him that way until recently. The coronation was the first time you saw him. You barely had time to admire the prince back then, and seeing him now you understand why he becomes the talk of the town. His eyes were a deep blue, hair patching his palette, and his skin had a different kind of beauty from what you knew. Kaeya was simply graced with a great appearance.  

His sun-kissed skin glistens with sweat as he groans from pushing inside you, tears escaping from the corner of your eyes from the pain, and he wipes it away with his thumb, the other hand on your waist for him to squeeze. It was sure to bruise. “I’m sorry for the pain. It will be over soon.” He assures you as he sees you uncomfortable, guiding you through your first time. 

“Try to breathe in and feel me inside you. You’ll feel much better.” Kaeya breathed hard as he starts pushing further, testing your depth as you cry out from the unfamiliar sensuality. 

“It…it still hurts.” 

He presses right below your tummy and you thrash open-mouthed. “There. You feel me right?” 

Your body glides up and down as he changes pace, a hand pinning you to the soft sheets to gain full control over you. Getting a taste of the forbidden fruit, marking what’s not his, all of those a sin against his father and heaven. But the prince didn’t care even if he were to be struck with stones, he has no responsibility at this moment. 

In between the sheets, you and him left your thrones, just two young souls who found each other in lust, not caring about the price they had to pay sooner. That was how humans succumbed to sin and lost themselves. Focused only on how their bodies worked, relishing the mind-numbing, body-curling experience as they lose their ability to speak, uttering animalistic sounds from their mouths.

“Kaeya! I feel weird, ah!” You moan, not knowing the ecstatic feeling building up inside you. He smirks, finding your inexperience cute. “Just let it go. It’s the best part.” and he stimulates your spot further to help you chase your high. 

“Ah!” A wanton moan escapes your lips. What was this feeling? You know you’re secreting down there and that passing moment was just so addicting and relieving. You feel like you want to do it again with the way he shoves in and out. Kaeya shudders, finishing inside you while forgetting the possible consequence, his mind was not on the right track to think straight.

Wiping the sweat off his forehead, he looks down at your smaller, corrupted body that he just claimed. He did it. He stole another man's wife…One look at you fighting your sleep and he feels guilty knowing he won’t stay; he won’t even have the time to take care of you. This relationship was far too risky to continue, it could cost you both your lives and he doesn’t want to drag you into the dirt. You were still pure under all your layers, you shouldn’t be dirtied.

“Are you leaving now?” You break the silence, eyes closed to rest. “Miss me already?” And you fought the urge to open your eyes and glare at him. “Not that I want you to stay…but you said that you wanted to comfort me. You wanted to be friends.” You wondered what kind of friend he will be to you. And if friends even do something like that. You almost forgot you have a husband, how could you remember that man when you haven’t seen him since the wedding.

Kaeya laughs, breaking your thoughts of the emperor. “Can we still be friends after this? But I’m pretty sure this is a trend nowadays.” He says with an amusing look, guessing your response. “I definitely don’t want to be friends with someone I slept with. You said yourself this is a one-time thing.” 

He almost forgot that. Kaeya never got rejected and speaking to you was the first time his pride got hurt. Raising his eyebrows in agreement, he nods and lays down beside you. “You need to take a bath or at least wash your lower half.”

You don’t understand why you need to take a bath on a tired body but then you feel the sticky liquid between your thighs. And in a fit of embarrassment, you turn your back on him, your stupid heart pounding from what happened earlier. “I don’t want to take a bath. I’m too tired.” You close your eyes to try escaping him and then surprisingly fall into slumber.

Kaeya watched your back for an hour even though he needed to leave immediately. You got quiet soon and he assumed you were sleeping, you needed it after all. He stands up from the bed, contemplating whether to touch you or not, because if he does, then he’ll stay and sleep here. Your heads are probably on a platter the next morning. 

He doesn’t smile for there was nothing to smile about. There was only room for regrets and what-ifs. He dresses as quietly as possible, not wanting to bother the sleepy figure.

"Such a shame. You could've been my empress." He muses out loud before leaving for the night. 

But what Kaeya didn’t know was that you were a light sleeper, trained to detect assassinations in your sleep, royals are prone to it after all. Thus, even the slightest noise of his pants woke you up.

You were wide-eyed, dazed, as the door closes and your room gets cold; he planted so many doubts coursing through your mind, together with questions of whether you became empress at the wrong time.

end notes: kaeya and (y/n) will be back!...or are they?

Voting time

yes

yves repost if you agree 🤗

Yo wtf, why did Victoria death was so anticlimactic, wtf butcher got tentacles, I thought he had lasers and wait wasn't he on his death bed, HELLO. I need a alter ego like Joe Kessler.

But why was Victoria death giving stranger things?!

@everyone:

Me watching the season 4 finale of the boys: