#all the way down the hall away from everything because I cannot hear people’s footsteps by my door or I freak the fuck out

[sourkitsch]

Two things that are true at once:

I am not nearly as mentally ill as I’ve convinced myself I am

I am far sicker than I’ve convinced my friends that I am

#:( #my friend and I were talking about post grad plans and we were talking about how our friend is gonna move in w them + their partner #and eventually we got onto how I’m not confident on my ability to pay rent on place by myself #and then they were like omg wait we were actually just looking at a place w 3 bedrooms and thinking about who else we would want to live w #and I literally brushed them off by saying ‘oh no I’m a nightmare to live with’ and they were like no omg it would be so great!!!!!! #it would not be great. and I am hoping whatever these plans are fall through so I don’t have to say anything about it #because I cannot have roommates. my friends have only encountered my ptsd twice and I managed it well enough that I’m pretty sure #no one noticed. but it’s because the vast majority of my triggers are domestic. when I sleep over my moms house I sleep in a bedroom #all the way down the hall away from everything because I cannot hear people’s footsteps by my door or I freak the fuck out #and just the idea of people drinking or doing drugs in a place I live makes me feel like I’m gonna throw up #I’ve tried living in a single dorm before and that was bad enough that I had to move off of campus my sophomore year #I just really really really don’t want to be serious and tell them I can’t #because I know it would be unfair to all of us #I hate that I view myself as a punishment for other people but I know it’s because it is. I would be that crazy roommate that’s brought up #for years afterwards. and it sucks because I like this people even if I know not to trust them #it’s also now a pattern that when I bring something up about me not being normal people think it’s a joke. which maybe it’s my fault #I really need to go back to therapy but do not have the bandwidth to go over the incest thing with a new person right now

[wroteitbutneverwatchedit]

Could we work?

»»————- 🪢 ————-««

Pairing: Billy Hargrove x F!reader

Summary: When billy rolls into town and all the girls are falling at his feet…… why won’t she? 

Warning: Cussing, Sexual innuendo, sexual comments, harassment, billy being well billy. 

A/n: I will be posting a part two to this, I really like this fic and please let me know if you guys like it. Please like, share, reblog, and/or comment. Also I want to try taking request so please feel free to message me a request idea, I will let you know about the stuff I don’t write. But please enjoy. ALSO THIS IS NOT NO FREE USE YOU CANNOT PLAGIARIZE OR REPOST MY WORK ON THIRD PARTY SITES

Pt.2

»»————-　⚜　————-««

All the boys in this town were shit excluding a few, and that was me being nice. They all got on my nerves repeatedly coming to try and get with me, I really should just start telling them off. But I find the severe silent treatment more amusing, though sometimes I want to just yell at them. Walking the Hawkins High Halls was something every student has done but I was always getting the stairs. My sister was the one always speaking up for me, she was very popular and bright. I was always letting her handle these boys, maybe the ceaseless comments on how fat my ass is would stop. But they always kept coming with new ones, sure I had these powers but I was never and never will be a killer. These boys were always pushing me to new limits, just because I wouldn’t let them climb on top of me. I took a deep breath before I stepped out of my care. My sister Amara followed me, she went almost everywhere with me. As we walked into the school building I wasn’t stopped like I usually was, I made it to my locker with no one person bothering me. But my happiness was short-lived, once I got to my locker I was met with a new face. He was significantly better looking than any of the boys I met in this town, he had this sort of smug look on his face. I was absent for two days and there was already a new person along with a new drama, I opened my locker and took out my book for the first period. I completely ignored his presence, the attitude radiating off him was very cocky and I didn’t like it.

“Y/N you’re looking very nice in that dress, but I think it would look better on my bedroom floor.” Tommy H. Said, I didn’t even bat an eye in his direction, simply closing my locker and walking away with Amara. I heard footsteps walking behind us but this was the school hallway, it was free to use, who was I to stop people from walking? I entered my class and took my seat, I was never one to be late for class or cause a fuss, but I couldn’t control the commotion that followed me to my seat. I turned my head to see the new face, he sat in the seat next to me, which wasn’t weird because it was empty it made sense for a new student to take that seat. 

“Hello pretty lady, the name is billy. “ The boy said, I nodded and then started preparing for class. I didn’t respond to him and that seemed to kind of bother him.

“It seems like you didn’t hear me but the names billy what’s your name?” He asked this time, I looked at him for a second before writing something down and passed him the note.  

‘I heard you the first time, I just ignored you. Please leave me alone, I don’t talk to arrogant, cocky, and self-destructive boys. So just stay out of my way and keep everything at face value. You may have a pretty face but it doesn’t mean anything if your personality is shit.’ His emotions were displayed on his face and anger seemed to shine through the most, he crumpled the note and shoved it in his pocket. The whole class period went by without his talking to me again, as I walked out of the class I was met with Harrington. He was a good friend of mine, but he seemed to act like an overprotective boyfriend at times. 

“Hello milady, shall I walk you to your next class.” he said, I smiled and walked with him to our next class.

•

•

•

Lunch had rolled around and I sat at my usual table with my sister by ourselves, she insisted that she sit with me today so I didn’t feel alone but I didn’t mind her sitting with her friends. Lunch was going smoothly until billy sat down across from me, he didn’t say anything just took a piece of my celery and looked at me, my sister was going to say something but I just shook my head and shrugged my shoulders. 

“I’m not arrogant” he said, I didn’t say anything just set aside some celery on a napkin and passed it to him along with some chips.

“She said because you seemed so hungry that you can't ask.” Amara said, billy looked at her a shot her a sarcastic smile. 

“Thanks” he said.

#billy hargove x reader #billy hargrove #dacre montgomery #billy hargrove x black reader #stranger things #dacre montgomery x reader

[frogtanii]

iwaizumi was... overwhelmed, to say the least.

the past few days had been such a whirlwind of change that hajime could barely properly process, much less appropriately react to it all, so he behaved much like a zombie, saying yes when prompted, signing papers when told, and packing up what was his entire life for the past 11 months.

wow. iwaizumi collapsed on his bed as he scanned his now barren bedroom. he’d been here for almost a year and yet, all his belongings were in boxes within a couple of days.

hajime couldn’t keep the disbelieving chuckle from escaping his chest as he leaned back on his bed, dark brown eyes trained on the ceiling.

it felt like he’d spent such a large chunk of his life trapped in this house, under the foot of the woman who he thought he’d marry but in reality, he’d been in little leagues longer than he’d been in love.

iwaizumi scoffed and rolled his eyes. yeah, “in love”. it’d been about a week since his whole life started to unravel and he had hardly seen, let alone spoken to meiko throughout that entire time.

over text, she’d sworn up and down that she loved and cared about him but as she passed by him packing his things a few days ago, she’d barely spared him a second glance.

hajime wasn’t going to lie. it hurt. he’d opened his heart up to her, something he didn’t do easily, and she’d taken his trust and used it to twist him into her weapon.

he always believed he was stronger than this — he’d never forget his mother telling him so when he was younger. he had fallen and scraped his knee yet he refused to cry to keep from upsetting his mom. iwaizumi existed to live up to what his mother thought of him but here he was, completely enveloped in meiko’s shit, doing her dirty work and following her bidding like some mutt.

god, toorū was right. he really was her bitch.

“i could hear you thinking from down the hall, iwa-chan.” speak of the devil...

oikawa stood at his doorway, leaning against the frame with a posture that seemed relaxed at first glance but if you looked a little closer, you’d notice the tenseness in his shoulders and the tightness of his smile.

hajime quickly sat up on his bed before motioning for his old friend to enter. “uh, yeah,” he began, his voice cracking a little from disuse, “i have a lot to think about.”

the light haired brunette let out an understanding hum before wandering into the room, sharp observant eyes darting to look at all the empty walls. “looks like you’re all packed.”

“pretty much,” iwaizumi nodded before the room fell into an awkward silence, the two childhood friends completely avoiding one another’s eyes.

“look, i-“

“iwa-chan, i’m-“

they both paused for a moment before bursting into laughter, the sound carrying into the hall and throughout the house.

hajime wiped a few stray tears from his eyes, shaking his head at their awkwardness. “you first, shittykawa.”

toorū gasped in halfhearted mock offense before quickly sobering up, training iwaizumi with a completely serious look. “i’m sorry and before you go on some bullshit, self sacrificing rant, you’re not the only one to blame for what happened to our friendship.”

he sighed while making his way to iwaizumi’s bed, sitting down gently beside him. “i should’ve known better, okay? i shouldn’t have let my jealousy and insecurities get in between us but i guess i got swept up in the attention, yknow? meiko is actually charming when she wants to be.”

iwaizumi nodded in agreement, knowing all too well how compelling meiko could be. the room fell into a more comfortable silence as both boys escaped into their thoughts, questions about the future of their friendship flitting throughout their minds.

“oh!” oikawa was pulled out of his own head at hajime’s exclamation, his eyes moving to observe his friend dig through his pockets to procure a thick white envelope. “here. i’d like you to give this yn.”

all toorū could do was nod, his brain short circuiting at the sight of iwaizumi’s apparent kindness to the woman he tormented for so long. “uh, what’s in it?” he ventured to ask, his soft hands toying with the sealed envelope flap.

a soft chuckle came from across the bed. “don’t be so nosy toorū, just give it to her, yeah?” oikawa rolled his eyes but obliged, the bed creaking as he stood to his feet.

“so... this is it, huh?” it was like the reality of the situation was just now sinking in — they hadn’t been close in a while but iwaizumi was still his best friend and he wasn’t quite ready to let him go.

they’d been through so much together, practically growing up together and now, they’d only see each other on holidays, if even then, and then he’d never be invited to hajime’s wedding as his best man as they’d planned and he also wouldn’t be the coolest uncle/godfather of iwa’s children and—

“fuck no,” hajime scoffed with a bright grin on his face. “thought you were gonna annoy me til the end of time shittykawa. don’t tell me you’re quitting your job now.”

the hidden meaning behind iwaizumi’s words brought tears to oikawa’s eyes and before he could stop himself, he launched his body into iwa’s arms. hajime hesitated, his hands stuttering at toorū’s sides as though he’d forgotten how to hug but the feeling passed, his arms winding around his friend’s lithe waist.

“‘m gonna miss you hajime,” oikawa’s voice came out as a broken whimper, his arms tightening around his shoulders.

iwaizumi hummed instead of responding, too afraid of his voice cracking under the weight of his emotions. they stood there for a moment but the honk of the moving truck outside signaled the both of them of their limited time.

hurriedly, oikawa wiped the tears off his cheeks before waving awkwardly at iwaizumi as he left the room with a friendly, “don’t be a stranger.”

and then he was gone.

toorū finally allowed himself to collapse into sobs on his best friends empty bed, his palms pressing into his eyes as he sat there and just let himself feel.

apparently, he wasn’t crying very quietly because it took only a few moments for you to find him, your soft footsteps alerting him to your presence. oikawa scrambled to wipe away what he knew was an unattractive mixture of tears and snot as you got closer.

you were one of the last people he wanted to see him like this.

“hey,” you whispered, standing a few feet away from him. “um, i know this is probably a bad time but i just wanted to thank you for apologizing? back at the awards show?”

toorū sniffed as he looked up at you with confusion written on his face. “what? you shouldn’t thank me for apologizing. ‘s common courtesy.”

you laughed softly, nodding in agreement. “well, not always. so, thank you.” finished with your piece and not too keen on lingering where you weren’t wanted, you moved towards the door but were swiftly stopped before you got there.

“um, here. it’s from iwa-chan.” you gaped at the thick envelope oikawa was handing you before taking it and opening it, a low curse falling from your lips.

inside the package was a dense wad of cash, more money than you’d seen in months. accompanied with it was a letter, written in beautifully loopy handwriting.

you shut it quickly before oikawa could see, stuffing the envelope deep within your pocket where you could access it alone in the depths of your room.

“do you wanna come eat? last i heard, bokuto and tsumu were doing a cooking competition and i’m sure it’ll be fun to watch.” you were severely thrown off by the money and letter but you were determined to show toorū that you’d accepted his apology and were on your way to making amends.

he gave you a shy nod and trailed behind you to the kitchen, the loud sounds of fire and screaming coming from down the hall. you wanted to focus on the fun and merriment but the envelope was practically burning a hole in your pocket.

later that night, you finally got the chance to open the letter and read it, your former manager’s words bringing tears to your eyes.

dear yn,

i’m probably the last person you expected to hear from. you probably didn’t want to hear from me at all if i’m being honest and i don’t blame you. i know there is nothing i can say that could make up for what i’ve done to you but i’d like to try.

i’m sorry. those words don’t nearly express in and of themselves how truly remorseful i am but they needed to be said. there’s no excuse for how i treated you — not meiko, not my stress, absolutely nothing.

you deserved my common decency and respect and i didn’t give that to you. instead, i abused my position and made your life hell. i’ll never forgive myself for that.

uh, i bet you’re wondering what the money is? i promise i’m not trying to pay you off, it’s just all the money i’ve denied you since you moved here. i have a lot of wrongs to right and this is one of them.

sorry, i’m not very good with words but i just wanted you to know that i’m very sorry for everything that i’ve done. and i’m in no place to make demands or anything but i just wanted to ask if you’d keep an eye on oikawa for me.

he’s strong but he’s also vulnerable. he might be a pain in my ass but he’s my best friend and since i can’t keep him from drowning, i was wondering if you’d do that - not for me but for him.

anyways, this letter is shit but i suppose you get the gist. use the money for whatever you want and if you’re as unselfish as i’ve heard, you don’t owe me anything. you don’t owe me money, kindness, or forgiveness.

take care of yourself,

iwaizumi hajime

℗ poker face

so... this is it

series masterlist

(●’◡’●)ﾉ

an - soooo m back :D hopefully this is the last of my mini hiatuses!! this chapter sucked to write but i’m not mad at how it turned out?? pls let me know how i did skjdkd don’t forget to feed me <3333

taglist - if your name is in bold, i cannot tag you

@boosyboo9206 • @geektastic84 • @elianetsantana • @trashy-simp • @infinitebells • @6mattsun9 • @suhkusa • @katsulovee • @kotarosbabygirl • @fucktheworlddude • @insomniacwreck • @calumsfringe • @saltylettuce • @chai-blu • @al3x1ss • @hawksyoongi • @syndellwins • @jooleuuh • @loubells • @kissungjae • @liberhoe • @tetsurocore • @animeoverdosee • @duhsies • @saikishairclip • @afire24 • @premiyagi • @kit-kat428 • @doctorspencereid • @daphnxy • @kyomihann • @maer-333 • @sinoflust19 • @peteunderoos • @peachiikichu • @iidanotlida • @yongboxerrr • @kac-chowsballs • @tanakaslastbraincell • @memorableminds • @risjime • @starry-magicshop • @sugavwara • @smuttyanimeslut • @kiwibirbs-library • @haijkk • @airybnb • @crybabygumi • @iwaisa • @decaffinatedtealover • @notameera • @kawaii-angelanne • @rintarovibes • @urlocalsimp

the rest of the tags will be in the replies!!

#haikyuu!! #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #hq smau #haikyuu x reader smau #haikyuu smau #haikyuu #hq x reader smau #haikyuu angst #hq angst #haikyuu fluff #hq fluff #atsumu x reader #osamu x reader #kenma x reader #kuroo x reader #bokuto x reader #akaashi x reader #daichi x reader #sugawara x reader #oikawa x reader #iwaizumi x reader #sakusa x reader #tw toxicity #tw toxic relationship #tw toxic behavior #tw toxic people #haikyuu social media au #hq social media au #℗ poker face

[witch-hazels-musings]

Could you do some headcanons about Kaeya and Diluc with an s/o who really wants to dance with them (whether it be at a festival, party, at home, etc.) Also? I seriously respect the hell out of you for writing while working an 8-5 as someone who has to work a 9-5 and feels like i doesn’t even have time to shower at night. ｡ﾟ(ﾟ´ω`ﾟ)ﾟ｡ I hope you’re doing well! Please continue to grace us with your lovely presence!

I finished it!! Thank you for waiting for me! I hope you like it :D 

^ expanded the request a bit --- I also don’t know how Kaeya’s got to be so long - so an extra special gift from me to you 

warnings -> sfw, reader is pestered by some ppl, jealous characters :) 

Character X GN Reader | Anthology

Includes: Kaeya, Diluc, Childe, Albedo

Kaeya

When Kaeya asked you to be his partner to one of the largest events in all of Mondstadt, you were beyond excited - this was an opportunity you had been waiting for - you’d always wanted to dance with him, and this was the perfect opportunity to do so 

You did your best to get ready, not knowing if this or that outfit would be better to wear, and the anxiety of having to meet him at the event hall was weighing on you 

“Y/N!” You turned your head for the thousandth time, so many voices had called out to you the moment you descended the stairs, their eyes as powerfully overwhelming as their voices. Luckily, this voice was someone you were relieved to see. Amber gripped onto your hands and pushed herself between you and the many bodies standing just a bit too close. “You look incredible! I’ve only ever seen you in your adventure clothes.” 

“Haha, I couldn’t come to a ball dressed like that, could I?” You glanced down at your attire, it had taken you a long time to decide what to wear and even though you settled on this, and were getting compliment after complement, you only cared about one person's opinion. Where was he? 

“Well, you look incredible!” She gripped your wrist and pulled you along, shouting at people who refused to get out of the way, her peppy voice breaking through all the many others calling for your attention. It was strange to be the center of attention. You’d seen so many of these faces around town and they didn’t seem to notice you then, so why all the affection now? It made you feel self-conscious. 

When you were finally away from the sea of eager eyes, you took a deep breath. The new, less crowded space letting in relief to ease your nerves. 

You looked at Amber and smiled at her, she always seemed to know how to bring you just what you needed, her kindness knew no bounds and you were we happy to have a friend like her. “Have you been here long?” You asked her.

“Pretty much, I’ve been helping plan this event for a while. I’m happy for it to be over honestly, who knew planning something like this was so exhausting.” 

“Ha, maybe that’s why Diluc always has a sour expression on his face. Too many events.” 

“You’re probably right! Ah, can you imagine stern Diluc planning a party? I’d die.” She laughed and the cheery vibrations seeped into your weary skin, your nerves made it easier for you to have an emotional reaction and with her disposition you found yourself laughing with her. 

“So,” you looked out over the dance floor, noticing the tables full of food and drink, people standing in small circles chatting and laughing away. “Who else made it tonight?” 

“Oh, are you looking for someone in particular?” She tilted her head and smiled at your flustered state. 

“N-no … what … shut-up.” You frowned and looked away from her. 

“I think you’ll see him soon, he had something to do but it won’t take him all night.” She must have noticed your disappointment because in an instant she made the decision to get you something to eat and stuck to your side until you had a more natural smile on your face. 

Any excuse to be close to you he is all for, it doesn’t matter what the occasion is, he will find a way to hold you, touch you - he just cannot get enough of you 

When he invited you to the Favonious ball, he knew you’d quickly take up his offer and join him, there wasn’t a question in his mind that you would deny it 

He had several things to prepare for and was frustrated that he couldn’t bring you to the event himself, but he knew you’d show up and once you did he’d have all night to spend with you - that was if he could make his way through the barrage of people who were flocking to you as soon as you stepped through the door 

He stepped through the hallway, his footsteps echoing off the walls as he made his way toward the ballroom. Lisa had given him a few ‘last minute’ wardrobe adjustments, and while she cooed over how handsome he looked, he hated how tight the suit was around his neck. He pushed his finger between the collar of his dress shirt and pulled at it. 

As he turned the corner, he could already hear the sounds of the party drifting up toward him. He hoped it wasn’t too late, his work had kept him longer than he wished and it was well past the time that you said you’d be there. He was frustrated and eager to see your face. 

The light from the ballroom washed over him as he stepped onto the balcony. There were still plenty of people enjoying themselves below but he only cared about one. His eyes scanned the crowd, heart filling with dread as he failed again and again at finding you among them. Then he saw you, your back leaning against one of the pillars, your arms crossed around your chest, eyes looking at the outrider who seemed to be holding you in a lively conversation. 

He smiled and quickly made his way down the steps, his hands slipping into his pockets as he did so. 

People were engaged in discussions, which normally he would be interested in as these were great opportunities to gather information, but his focus was on something much more important. 

“I’m going to ask them…” A voice caught his attention so he slowed his pace. 

“Don’t even bother, they haven’t danced with anyone the whole night. They’ve just been talking with that brunette for hours.” 

“I’m pretty persistent; I know how to win someone over.” Kaeya looked at them, his gaze lingering for a moment before catching you in the same place you had been. He watched as they made their way toward you and the stab in his chest pulled at the back of his mind. Quickly, he unbuttoned the collar of his shirt, the freedom of it spurring him on as he pushed his way toward you. 

-- 

“Hey, I couldn’t help but notice you haven’t danced with anyone here. I know, you’ve just been waiting for me to ask you all night.” The man smiled at you, but there was something unsettling about the way he did it. 

“No thank you, I’m not interested.” 

“Come on, it’ll be fun. You won’t regret it.” You were getting irritated at this point, not only had he interrupted your conversation with Amber, but he wasn’t the only person to ignore your first no. 

“Again, I’m not interested.” You turned away from him hoping that if you didn’t look he’d just walk away. 

He placed his hand against the pillar and leaned in closer to you and you were about to show him how strong your disinterest was when you heard a familiar voice.

“How rude of me to keep you waiting for so long, I came as soon as I could.” You looked behind the man and saw Kaeya standing there in formal attire, his beauty seemed to know no limits - frustrating. 

“Kaeya!” You stood, disregarding everything and flashing him the brightest smile you could. 

“Am I too late for a dance?” He held out his hand to you and without hesitation you took it. He led you to the dance floor leaving behind a confused, dejected suitor and excited Amber in your wake. 

He spun you around as soon as you reached the dance floor, a hand resting on your hip and the other holding your hand. “You look stunning, did you get dressed up all for my sake?” He looked down at you and his smile made your legs weak. 

“Maybe … don’t let it go to your head.” 

“Too late.” He laughed and you forgot how much you missed him. It didn’t matter how long you waited, for him, you would wait an eternity. 

“I heard a rumor about you.” 

“What rumor?” You looked up at him and caught the mischief in his eyes. 

“That you haven’t danced with a single person here, is that true?” 

“... It is … I only …” You looked down at his chest before continuing. “I only wanted to dance with you.” 

His hands squeezed around your hip and you felt him pull you closer, “How lucky am I. Sorry I made you wait.” 

“No! You don’t have to apologize.” Your head shoots up to meet him, your voice a bit louder than you planned, but he doesn’t seem to mind. 

“Well let’s give them all a show, shall we? I mean, I have to make sure they know they’ll never stand a chance.” The two of you spend the rest of the night together, the jealousy of all those who wished they were Kaeya apparent as they started to fade away the longer the two of you held one another. Kaeya couldn’t be happier, he was completely fine with them dropping all hope of being yours - that space was for him and him alone. 

Diluc

You were having a great time enjoying the festivities. Practically everyone had been invited to the winery to celebrate the coming of the new season, it was one of the most popular events that could happen 

The two of you had been catching each other here and there, but with how busy he was taking care of everything, and how popular you were becoming as a dance partner or at least an interested dance partner, the two of you continued to drift past the other

Diluc was getting more and more irritated as the evening went on. There were so many things distracting him from where he desperately wanted to be. Instead of being at your side, he was busy hosting conversation after conversation with potential business partners, dealing with the drunkards who couldn’t seem to keep a responsible handle on their booze, and drifting between staff to make sure they had what they needed. 

Reasons like these were why he typically avoided hosting events, but it was always fruitful and he needed to keep old connections and build new ones. Still, when he had a second and his eyes drifted through the crowd to find you, he felt the heat rise in his chest as he watched you dancing in the arms of someone other than him. He wasn’t mad at you of course, he was frustrated with himself that he allowed others to touch you, you were just too kind - a trait he loved, but one that also pulled at his heart. 

“They are incredible.” He heard someone share with their friend. Glancing up from his work he saw just who they were in discussion about. 

“I wonder if they are seeing anyone?”

“I haven’t heard anything …Hey, If you don’t go for it, I will!” They laughed and while he couldn’t tell if their intentions held any weight, he hated that the idea was even present in their minds. Again, it was on him that people didn’t know you were seeing one another. The two of you looked like good friends with the way you respected his boundaries, and his reservation at being expressive with his affections for you. He clenched his jaw before walking away. 

--- 

Your legs were starting to ache from the amount of activity you were requesting of them. So many people had asked you to dance, and you didn’t want to be rude, as a guest of Diluc’s you wanted to make sure to be as kind and thoughtful as you could. However, with the amount of energy you were expending on everyone else you were starting to feel the effects of it all. So when several more, slightly persistent, patrons came to ask you to dance, you found yourself leaning to decline. 

“Excuse me,” they began, “If you would be so kind, I’d love to have the next dance with you.” You looked up at them and saw their nervous smile. It hurt to reject them, but you desperately wanted a break. 

“Thank you, but I’m going to have to respectfully decline.” You nodded your head and noticed there were other eager dance partners standing behind them. “I need to rest a bit, everyone has been so lively, and I’m running out of stamina.” You laugh in an attempt to make your rejection more lighthearted. 

“If you don’t want to dance, we can do something else!” They sat down next to you, their arms perched on the table, body leaning in way to close. They began to ask you questions, which was fine until they started to get more and more personal. You did your best to answer them, but when they asked the next question it was a challenge to get them to accept your response. 

“Everyone is dying to know,” another asked, you turned your head to them and waited, “are you seeing anyone?” 

You averted your gaze before responding, “Yes. I am.” 

“What!?” | “There is no way?” Their voices hit you at once and the loudness of their shouting drew eyes from other party-goers. They badgered you for a bit, all asking different questions at the same time, making it hard to hear them all. One stuck out and when they spoke the group got quiet. 

“I’ve never seen you with anyone.” You looked at them, their arms crossed and lips turned into a frown. “You’re pulling our legs.” 

“No, I really am seeing someone.” 

“I don’t believe it, you're just using that as an excuse.” Their words made you angry. You didn’t own them anything and you were being plenty kind, and, that kindness, was starting to grow thin. “Tell us who it is and then we will believe you.” They placed their hand on the table and looked directly into your eyes. You were about to answer them when you were interrupted by the person himself. 

“Y/N.” He spoke and the voices around the table died down, you looked at him and felt unbelievable relief. 

“Diluc.” You stood and walked toward him, his hand open for you, a gesture you were surprised by. Carefully, you placed your hand in his and scratched the side of your head. 

He looked at you, his eyes heavy on your skin. “Sorry I’ve been so busy.” 

“It’s okay, I don’t mind waiting.” His thumb rubbed the back of your hand, there was no way people couldn’t notice how much that affected you. 

“Hey! What’s going on … are the two of you …?” The person stood up and placed their hands on their hips. Their shouting drew the eyes of others again and everyone at the table stilled as they waited for a response. 

“Yes, and I ask that you don’t cause them any trouble; I won’t tolerate it.” His tone had a hint of a threat and it made your chest tight. There was a shockwave of disbelief that ran through the crowd, and the whispering made your ears burn. Diluc looked at you and you looked back, “Shall we?” 

“Mhm.” 

You followed after him, his broad shoulders a sight you never got tired of seeing and when the two of you held each other in movement to the music, you knew there would be no secret to your relationship now. Diluc made that clear from his words to his actions, and as the music began to fade and the sun dipped below the cliffs, he bravely showed his feelings for you as his lips touched your cheek. 

Childe 

He’d be all about showing you off to others - he wants to make it clear that you and he are an item no matter where you were

You went with him back to his home-town. It was a long trip, but so worth it to be with him, to see where he grew up. It took a while to get used to the chilly weather, and in fact you had to layer up extra carefully in order to bear the cold

His family had prepared for him a welcome party and had practically invited everyone they could to celebrate his return. Even if they knew it was only temporary, as his membership with the Fatui often kept him on the move, still, it was nice to feel so loved and welcomed with such a joyous event. 

They also knew he would be bringing someone special back with him. It was a demand which plastered every letter he received from his siblings. He knew if he didn’t bring you along there would be a reception colder than the snow that never melted. 

Of course, the two of you arrived hours before the start of the celebration. This gave his siblings and other family plenty of time to introduce themselves to you. They asked you question after question and when it was finally time to get ready for the party, you noticed how rough your voice had become. You definitely knew that Childe was a member of this family, he too knew how to wear out your voice. 

Childe changed clothes quickly, it had been so long since he wore those clothes from this region. As he looked in the mirror, the way the outfit rested snuggly against him, it made him even more nostalgic than he already was. He was waiting out in the large living room, his mind playing out memories of his childhood in this house when a sound caught his attention. 

His younger siblings giggled and shouted in excitement and as he turned to see what was all the fuss he felt the air in his lungs leave him. You were dressed in a traditional style outfit, your hair styled to fit your attire, hands fussing with the clothes you weren’t used to wearing. When you looked up at him and smiled shyly he felt an incredible urge to lock you behind closed doors and not let anyone lay their eyes on you. 

You walked toward him, ignoring the loudness of his siblings, “They said this would be okay … Do I … look alright?” 

“You look incredible.” 

“Thank you.” You drop your head, looking at your hands and he desperately wants to pull your face back to him, but is interrupted before he gets the chance. 

“Let’s go already, big brother!” Teucer shouts, already standing at the door. 

“Shall we?” Childe extends his elbow to you and you take it. 

---

He had been watching you dance with the members of his family for a while, and while it moved his heart to see you laughing and doing your best to learn the moves, he wanted to hold you in his arms himself. He wanted you, to have you experience his traditions first hand through him. So, when he couldn’t handle it any longer, he finally asked you to dance. 

“You all have been keeping them so busy … I’m going to steal them back now.” He exclaimed, barging into the game you had been playing with his younger siblings. 

“That’s not fair! You’ve been able to keep them to yourself for so long. We want to play more.” 

“You can after I’ve had my fun, let’s go.” He pulled you away and their cries sounded as you drifted further from them. 

“I was winning!” You exclaimed, laughing as he pulled you behind him.

“It’s my turn to have your attention.” He turned and pulled you close to him. You could feel his energy through his fingertips, it was familiar, like the time he saw you talking to that stranger in one of the bars of Liyue. 

“Childe, you can’t seriously be jealous of your family.” 

“You don’t know me at all, do you.” He spun you around and when you realized you were out on the dance floor you knew you were in trouble. 

“I’m not very good at this yet.” You try to explain to him but it falls on deaf ears. 

“I’ll teach you, just follow my lead.” He nodded to the musicians and they began to warm up, their music drowning out the chatter. Quickly, he leaned down and kissed your forehead before offering some last minute encouragement, “Let me show them all how spectacular you are.” 

He loved every second of this. The way your feet stumbled over his as he moved with you across the dance floor, the way your face flashed through different expressions: joy, concern, embarrassment, confidence. He couldn’t get enough of you, there was never enough of you. How was he ever going to be satiated with you around, especially when you were embracing his home, his family with such unbound acceptance. 

He wanted to swallow you up, he wanted to lock you to him for the rest of time, and the more you let him take, the stronger his desire became. 

As the music drifted into its final crescendo he lifted you in his arms and spun you around. There were countless couples surrounding you, all shouting and cheering on the excitement that rippled from the center of the dance floor. When he stopped and you slid a bit down his chest, your shoulders at the height of his chin, hands gripping tightly on his shoulders and face dipping down to him with a smile that told him everything he ever needed to know about you, he let the words fall from his mouth, finally being as honest as he ever had been. 

“I love you.” 

Albedo

Albedo wasn’t too fond of parties and get-togethers, it was a lot of energy to expend on the discussions or interactions which he’d much prefer to stay clear of, at least if he can get away with it. Still, he had promised to make an appearance, and when he saw you he was much more inclined to stay

He loved to watch you have a great time, you were so independent, doing things whenever you felt like it and experiencing life as it happened. Unless it was explicitly told to others, most wouldn’t have any idea that the two of you were seeing each other. Most of the time that wasn’t a problem, as your busy schedules kept you distracted, but as he watched you mingle with the citizens and partake in the festivities, and how you drew the attention of interested eyes, he was starting to get jealous

These sorts of festivals drew in travelers from all over Teyvat. Most of them only blew in with the wind while others stayed longer after the final banner was removed. It was something that almost everyone in Mondstadt took part in, even those who often didn’t get out much -- and he was one of them. 

Albedo made his way through the streets greeting citizens as he passed by, a quick nod or hello here and there. It was Sucrose who had encouraged him to take a break, reminding him that he was likely to see you down in the festivities. So, he put away his work for the day and headed out of the research labs toward the cheering below. 

When he saw it was like the sun shined on his face for the first time in days. He felt so warm and was eager to reach you. As he got closer, he couldn’t help but notice the many faces that were turned to you. It was strange but he tried not to let that oddity hender him in any way. That’s when he started to hear the conversation you were having with someone, the closeness of them to you, and the way they didn’t seem to leave you alone.

It wasn’t like him, either, to let his emotions get the better of him, but having to listen and watch others take notice of you, something inside of him grew and he wanted to make sure they knew their hands would never reach yours.

--

“Hey.” A man walked up to you and injected himself in the conversation you were having. You stopped what you were doing and glanced at him, curious. “Would you be interested in dancing with me?” 

“Oh, I’m sorry, I’m not much of a dancer.” You smiled at him and tried to let him down easy. In fact you’d love to dance, but only if it was with a particular person, and he didn’t seem to be around at the moment.

“It’s okay if you aren’t, I’m happy to teach you some moves.” He took a step closer and his first impression of friendliness was slipping into pushiness. 

You started to tap your fingers against your leg, the motion becoming more intense the closer he got. “Really, I’m not a good dancer, you’ll find more luck with someone else.” 

“Come on, it’ll be fun.” He reached for your hand but was blocked by another. When you looked at the owner and saw it was Albedo, your stomach flipped. 

“Albedo?” You turned to him, a smile on your face and relief in your voice. 

“Excuse me, but I believe they said they weren’t interested?” 

“... ha, what are you their boyfriend?” They laughed and continued talking, “Listen, why don’t you let …” 

“Yes, I am.” Albedo interjected, cutting the person off. 

“What?” 

“We are together.” They looked confused, their eyes moving back between yours and Albedo’s. Albedo looked down at you and noticed the expression on your face, “Is that not the right way to describe our relationship?”

“No! I mean, yes, that’s right.” You looked at the person and gestured to Albedo, “This is my boyfriend, I’m his … we’re together, yes.” You nodded your head way too many times, but the point seemed to get across to them anyway. They left in a huff and you watched them leave before standing and turning to Albedo. 

It was the first time the two of you had ever really said those words out loud - of course you knew in your minds that you were a couple … but to say the term which let the outside world know of your relationship, well it was so exciting 

You felt your face get hot as you remembered how factually he had spoken, how quickly he answered their question. You couldn’t help but pat your face and pinch your cheeks 

After that, the two of you wandered through the festival, eating delicious food, participating in the activities, laughing and having interesting discussions, as you always did 

When night started to drift over the event and only a few people remind in the city center, you found yourself back in the place where your time together started, music drifting through the air 

You had such an incredible day. There were times the two of you were so busy that you would go days without seeing one another, so to spend an entire afternoon together was like a gift. 

“Today was incredible.” You express, the excitement and joy from the day making you click your tongue against the roof of your mouth. 

“I can tell you had a good day.” Albedo replies, smiling at you. 

“Oh, really?” 

“Yeah, you click your tongue like that when you’re happy … sometimes when you’re focused.” 

“Ah, really! I’ve never noticed.” 

“I think it’s cute.” He stepped closer and grabbed your hand, his grip soft and gentle. “So I know you don’t like to … I was wondering … would you like to dance with me?” 

“Yes!” You answered much quicker than he expected, your voice startling him a little. You covered your mouth and laughed, your eyes squinting. 

“Let’s go.” You took his hand and walked until the space felt right. Albedo let go of you before turning to look at you. With an elegant bow he requested your hand once again, you returned the gesture, not wanting to be rude and also trying your best to not scream with excitement. The music swelled and your bodies moved closer, his hands wrapping around your back while yours draped over his shoulders. You rested your head against his chest and let the wonderful day drift into a wonderful night, you and Albedo sharing in a moment with one another. No worries, no interruptions, just one another swaying to the sweet mixture of music and distant conversations. 

“I’m glad you could make it today.” 

“Me too.”

#genshin impact #genshin impact X reader #genshin impact headcanons #genshin impact musings #genshin impact fiction #genshin imagines #kaeya #kaeya x reader #kaeya alberich #genshin kaeya #genshin impact kaeya #diluc #diluc X reader #genshin diluc #diluc ragnvindr #genshin impact diluc #childe X reader #childe #genshin childe #albedo x reader #albedo #genshin albedo #genshin impact albedo #genshin impat childe

[bonnyskies]

deadly agenda ⇢ myg

min yoongi is a dangerous man. you’re a manipulative wife. together, you two are a deadly duo, and you both have your own agenda.

pairing — emperor!yoongi x wife!malereader ft. king-husband!taehyung

genres — angst, sexual themes, royalty!au, strangers-to-lovers!au

warnings — age-gap (reader is 20, yoongi is 28), swearing, degrading terms, mentions of death, feminization, descriptions of murder, sexual themes, infidelity, betrayal, slight voyeurism, yoongi is intimidating and reader is manipulative, basically they’re just plain evil

author’s note — i hate tumblr’s new update. i had more to write (not enough for a part two) but couldn’t because of the new 250 text box rule. but as for this story, this is probably the longest one i’ve written so far and the one i’m most proud of. anyway, hope you all enjoy and sorry for taking so long to upload this, took lots of planning and rewriting, plus i’ve been busy with school too.

word count — 7.4k

masterlist

Min Yoongi is a cautious, yet observant man.

Whoever steps foot in his palace, he makes sure to know everything about them. Who they are, they’re background, appearance, and how they approach him. Each and every thing can help him learn who he can trust, and who he cannot, who are his allies—and who are his enemies.

Yoongi stood by his palace’s entrance, accompanied with his guards and greeted his special guests, one by one as they walked up his home’s grand steps. He makes sure to take notes on each and every person’s facial expression, their appearance, chosen attire, and the certain way they walk up to him.

Anything could benefit him into knowing them. Their wealth and clan can be identified based on their specific appearance and choice of clothing. Their facial expressions help him learn what their true feelings and intentions are towards him that are hidden by their fake smiles and words. And lastly, the way they walk up to him can help him know the type of personality they have, whether that be obedient and innocent, or arrogant and untrustworthy.

The way he learns about his guests have never failed him. That was, until he met you.

Yoongi would be lying if he said he wasn’t astonished when his eyes laid on you for the first time. There were many things that left him utterly speechless when meeting you. For one, when his advisor told him that his guest would be bringing his wife, he was expecting a woman—not a man.

Another thing that left Yoongi speechless was your appearance, mostly your attire. You were dressed in feminine-like clothing, silk robes that were decorated with gold jewelry instead of fine material clothing with armor plating like what many men of royalty wear. And you also didn’t hold a blade like most men do too. Instead, you held a simple wooden decorative fan.

And lastly, your eyes.

Yoongi has a remarkable judge of character. Maybe not as good when it came to you, but still adequate. On the outside, your eyes were shining with gentleness and a kind greeting. But he could tell there was something else hidden behind them—something that left him intrigued by you.

You had an agenda—plans, and Yoongi was determined to find out what they are.

The welcoming feast was extremely dull.

Yoongi absorbed gallons of wine into his system, hoping that would help numb his mind and get through the rest of the evening without having to tear somebody’s head off from their body.

And apparently you thought the same as he did. Across the table, Yoongi watched as you fanned yourself out of boredom while everyone else were socializing with one another, an unamused facial expression shown on your face. Yoongi couldn’t help but chuckle behind his glass when seeing one of the other wives say something to you and you flashed her a quick smile before dropping it back down into a straight line.

It seems his attention on you didn’t go unnotice because next thing he knew, your eyes were now on him. Yoongi was expecting hints of disgust or uncomfort from you, but instead he was met with sly smirk and a raised brow.

Yoongi watches intently as you leaned over and whispered into your husband’s ear. Your husband—Kim Taehyung then stood up from his seat and bowed his head, “Excuse me, your Majesty.”

Yoongi turned his head towards your husband, diverting his attention completely away from you.

“My wife is not feeling well at the moment, so with your permission, would it be alright if he can take his leave from the feast early?”

The entire dining hall fell silent, shocked expressions plastered on everyone’s faces at the table.

Nobody has ever dared to leave one of Min Yoongi’s feasts before. Who would want to, right? It’s considered a great honor for one self and their kingdom to be invited by the Emperor himself to attend one of his events.

Whispers began to spread amongst the guests.

“How shameless is Kim Taehyung’s wife?”

“Wanting to leave the Emperor’s feast early? Utterly shameless I tell you.”

“That Taehyung needs to discipline his wife.”

“Doesn’t he know how important his Majesty’s events are? And he wants to leave just because he isn’t feeling well? Unbelievable.”

“He needs to learn some manners—”

Anxiety swept across Taehyung’s face when hearing the gossips coming from the other royals, eyes wide and mouth gaped open with panic. “Forgive me, your Majesty, I never intended to—”

With just the clear of his throat, everybody fell silent once again and all eyes were now on him. Yoongi’s gaze would shift between you and your husband, curiosity filling his veins when noticing that there wasn’t any signs of illness presently visible on you. You weren’t trembling, your eyes weren’t red and skin wasn’t showing any signs of flushness. You looked fine.

That only caused more questions to form in Yoongi’s mind. Like, what do you exactly want, and what is your reason for being here? Because according to his advisor, you weren’t even part of the guest list until today. That only raised even more suspicions he had towards you.

And it’s not like he can just throw you out—actually, he can. It’s just that he doesn’t want to because now he’s curious, and he wants to see how things turn out.

“He can go,” Yoongi says a brief silence, immediately noticing the small smile creeping onto your lips. “But take him to see the physician and let him check him out,” and then it dropped.

“N-No, your Majesty,” you spoke up, lips parted. “You don’t have to do that—”

“You’re feeling unwell, right?” Yoongi then asks, smirking at the silence he got in reply. “Well, you should let my physician diagnose you then. Don’t worry though, you’re in great hands.”

One of his guards that stood by his side approached you and started to guide you to the physician’s office. And while you were leaving, Yoongi could see the glare coming from you and aimed right at him.

If you wanted to play games with him, he’ll play.

Wandering through the palace halls at night was something Yoongi usually does whenever he can’t sleep.

And apparently you had the same tendency too.

While mindlessly strolling through his palace’s hallways, Yoongi’s eyes suddenly landed on your approaching figure, the first thing catching his attention was your choice of clothing. You were dressed in golden inner robes, your sleep-wear, and the material was so thin and transparent that every feature about you was visible to him. The sight of your clear, smooth skin and every curve of your body and muscles made his mouth water. It was like you were purposely dressed like that to seduce him.

Another thing that caught his eye was the small, slightly torn grayish book that was in your grasp, which was where your complete attention was on because you still haven’t noticed his presence despite the two of you walking towards the other.

“Hello, your Highness,” you jumped out of fear, eyes wide and closing your book when your gaze landed on him. “May I ask why you are wandering around my palace this late at night?”

“Couldn’t sleep,” you simply answered, fingers tight around the cover the book, which only made Yoongi even more curious as to what you were exactly reading. “And it seems you are having the same problem as well, am I correct?”

Yoongi only hummed in reply, taking another small step towards you until you two now stood only inchest apart, him towering over you and staring down right at you. “Is there something wrong with your chambers? I can tell my servants to move you and your husband into a more comfortable place for you—”

“No no, your Majesty,” you were quick to interject. “Everything is perfect. It’s just that I’ve always had trouble sleeping at another royal’s residence, that’s all.”

Yoongi couldn’t help but find your reason funny, because he has always had trouble sleeping when there were other people staying in his palace.

A brief silence came between you two before Yoongi spoke up once again, “I’ll be taking a quick walk around my garden, you can accompany me if you like.” He didn’t wait for your reply before leaving, but when hearing the sound of your footsteps behind him right after, a smirk grew on his lips.

“You know, you never really introduced yourself when we first met,” Yoongi then brought up while the two of you made your way to the gardens.

“Forgive me, your Majesty,” you bowed your head apologetically before replying, “My name is ___, Kim ___.”

“It’s a great pleasure to meet you, Kim ___,” Yoongi reached down and took your hand into his, pressing a soft, yet tender kiss on the back of your palm, smirking at the evident blush forming on your cheeks. “And I’ve got to say, you are looking quite well for someone that claimed to be feeling sick not even three hours ago,” and that is when your smile dropped.

“Must’ve been my anxiety,” you were quick to reply back, your eyes never leaving his. “After all, I am staying at the Emperor’s palace for the first time.”

Yoongi was impressed honestly, he had to admit. For everything he had to say against you, you had something say right back at him. There isn’t a lot of people who have that type of skill to think of words—believeable words right on the spot. Anybody would believe what you were saying—too bad he isn’t just anybody.

“Must be...,” Yoongi just says, eyeing you slightly. His gaze then shifted onto the book in your hand. “What are you reading there?”

“Oh this,” you held the book up, “It’s called Flowers of the Region—a guide to every type of flower that is grown and can be found in both the South and the North. It’s my favorite book.”

“Well, that’s fortunate,” Yoongi points out, “you like flowers, and we so happen to be going to my garden. What’s your favorite flower?”

“Lily of the Valley,” you answer with a smile. “Have you heard of it?”

“I have,” Yoongi replied, his interest towards you growing even more. Lily of the Valley, despite the beautiful features of the white flower, it is proven to be quite deadly when digested. “They are only found on top of the Southern mountains—but lucky for you, I happen to grow them right here in my garden.”

Your smile grew even wider. “That’s great.”

The rest of the walk to the gardens was in silence with you trailing forward while Yoongi stood back. And with your eyes focused on the path in front of you, Yoongi couldn’t help but send glances at you every once in a while, his eyes burning into your back, admiring at the clear view your smooth skin through the thin, transparent material of your inner robes.

He surely needs to give whoever crafted your sleepwear a raise—and a big one too.

When the two of you finally got to the gardens, you were left instantly speechless at the sight of the many plots of different flowers, ranging from beautiful, vibrant ones that were quite common to dark, mysterious ones that you’ve never even seen before.

Yoongi couldn’t deny how adorable you looked though when seeing his garden for the first time, eyes wide, shining with admiration and your mouth gaped open.

“This is beautiful,” you gasped, leaning down and running your fingers delicately over some flowers.

“Thank you,” Yoongi stood beside you, “I make sure my gardeners take good care of this place.”

Silenced filled the atmosphere as Yoongi stood back and silently watched you admiring the many flowers. Normally he’d be annoyed for someone touching his property, but for some odd reason when it came to you he didn’t mind so much. Perhaps it’s because this might be the only way for him to get close to you and learn about your true intentions—or maybe he just really wants to fuck you.

Yoongi found himself once again staring at you, watching as you bent over to get a closer look at one of the flowers, giving him a perfect view of your ass and hips, both in which he wants to grab and caress with his large hands.

“So,” Yoongi spoke up after some silence, “how exactly did you become the new Lady Kim?”

Yoongi instantly noticed the way your body tensed from his question. “I was his Highness’s personal servant. When his wife suddenly passed away, he was a complete mess and I was the only one that stayed by his side through the entire mourning process. I was the one that comforted him whenever he was feeling down, I made sure he was taking care of himself and helped him with his royal duties.”

Yoongi then noticed your shoulder slumping. “After about a month or so, he started seeking me for a...different kind of comfort.” Sex. “Soon later he decided to make his new wife—the new Lady Kim.”

“You don’t seem so happy about the change in position,” Yoongi commented, “I’m sure this is much better than being a simple servant. You’re a royal now.”

“Oh, I am,” you quickly corrected him, “But being a man and having a feminine title can sometimes make things complicated.”

“Well then, don’t make them complicated.” Yoongi suggested, “You’re not a servant anymore, you’re a royal. They may not respect you now, but you have the power to make them do so.”

“Don’t worry, I know,” you told him sternly. “They’ll learn to respect me. Whether that be the hard way or the easy way—it’s their choice. So you better watch out, your Majesty, or something bad might happen to you,” you laughed softly.

Yoongi released a forceful chuckle, eyes briefly squinting at you suspiciously. It may have sound like a harmless joke, but to him, he could hear the small hints of truth behind them. “Oh trust me, I will. I wouldn’t want you as an enemy.”

“And you as well,” you replied, eyeing him back.

Silence came between you two again, Yoongi leaving you to inspect his garden in peace while he stood back and watched you. It wasn’t until an hour has passed you spoke up again, yawning, “we should head back to bed, your Majesty. We have that conference in the morning with the other royals and we need the energy.”

“You’re right,” Yoongi agreed, nodding and stepping aside so that you could walk ahead of him and back inside the place with him following right beside you. “Let me walk you back to your room.”

You didn’t say anything, only held your head low to hide the small grin on your face as the both of you made your back to the chambers. And as you two got closer to your destination, you both were froze at the sound of moaning.

Yoongi was confused at first as who it could be, but when turning to you and seeing the hardened expression on your face, he knew.

“O-Oh, Taehyung—f-faster, please!”

Yoongi was speechless. He knew many royals took on concubines while being married, but he didn’t know someone could so shameless as to bringing them to another person’s residence alongside their spouse. “Your Highness—”

“Don’t bother, your Majesty,” you spoke calmly, eyes hard and emotionless. “I’m use to it by now and it doesn’t really bother me anymore.”

“Really, it doesn’t?”

You shook your head. “At first it did, but after sleeping with my husband so many times I have learned that the only person he cares to satisfy is himself.”

Yoongi couldn’t help but chuckle. What kind of husband doesn’t have the desire to satisfy is own wife? Maybe he should take you to his chambers and show you exactly what you’re missing. “Well, I-I’m still sorry for you.”

You simply shrugged your shoulders, “it doesn’t matter, your Majesty. Have a good night.”

Yoongi watched as you then opened the door went inside the chamber, causing your husband and the woman to stop and look at you with wide eyes.

“Don’t mind me,” you said to them, not even bothering to glance at them, shocking Yoongi. “I’ll be on the balcony reading my book. Just let me when you two are done.”

Taehyung’s attention instantly went back to the woman that was straddling his lap when hearing your words, hands kneading her breasts and hips and started thrusting back up into her, causing moans to erupt from both of them. Yoongi didn’t why, but the sight of them made his blood boil.

Maybe he should go in there and fuck you in front of your husband? That’ll show him what he is missing out.

Yoongi continued to watch through the crack in the door as you walked past the couple and went onto the balcony. And once you were out of his sight, that’s when he finally got a clear view of the woman on your husband’s lap, and he instantly recognized her. She was one of the servants that accompanied you and Taehyung here. Yoongi distinctly remembered seeing her earlier today, serving you tea after you got back from seeing the physician.

Yoongi glared at the couple, scoffing at the sight. What did that Kim Taehyung see in that whore of a servant that you don’t have?

You are far more enticing than she is.

Taking one last glance at the shameless couple, Yoongi retreated back to his chambers. And while he did so, his mind suddenly went back to you. How did someone so...unique end up with a man like Kim Taehyung? He’s a weak person, a shame to royal blood. You deserve to be with someone with real power, someone who would never leave you unsatisfied, both physically and emotionally. Someone like me.

Yoongi could feel himself harden just from the thought of you.

Damn you for having this type of power over me, his mind cursed. Yoongi has slept with countless of other royals before, both men and women, and he has never encountered someone like you.

You are truly something else.

“Damn,” Yoongi mumbled out to nobody in particular, palming himself through his robes. “How the hell am I going to get rid of this?”

And right on queue, a young servant boy just happened to be walking right by Yoongi when the question ran through his head.

“Stop,” was all he said, making the servant boy freeze in his place.

“Y-Yes, your Majesty?”

Yoongi took slow, intimidating steps towards him until he was towering over him, using his hands to cup his chin and forcing the servant boy to meet his eyes. “How would you feel having the honor of spending the night with your Emperor?”

The servant boy couldn’t stop the small smile from forcing on his face. “I-I would love that, your Majesty.”

That was Yoongi needed to hear before leaning down capturing the servant’s boys lips with his, hands moving to his thighs and hoisting him up in his arms and carrying him into his chambers, lips never separating.

“You’re a eager one, are you?” Yoongi chuckled against the servant boy’s mouth, moving his lips down his neck and forcing a whimpering moan from him.

“I-It’s my duty to serve y-you, your Majesty.”

That brought a smile on Yoongi’s lips.

Yoongi couldn’t find you anywhere the next day.

He couldn’t find at you breakfast, he couldn’t find you during the conference with the other royals and their wives, and he couldn’t find you at lunch. Now as dinner was approaching, there still wasn’t any sign of you anywhere.

But he had no problem finding your husband. Wherever he saw Taehyung, he saw that whore of a servant trailing behind him like a pet—but you no where to be seen.

Yoongi thought about approaching him to ask about your whereabouts, but he couldn’t help but think of the consequences that would happen afterwards. But that still didn’t stop him from sending glares at the younger royal and the servant every now and then, which didn’t go unnotice by either of them.

“Is there something wrong, your Majesty,” Taehyung finally asks, breaking the tensed silence between the two of them. “You’ve been staring at me all day today and haven’t said a single word.”

“Oh nothing,” Yoongi simply replies, eyes still trained on him while twirling his glass of wine. “Just wondering where your wife is at right now, since everyone else is here. Is he still not feeling well from last night?”

For a very very brief moment, Yoongi could see panic glinting in his eyes before answering, “o-oh yes, your Majesty, he told me that he’s still feeling unwell so I allowed him stay back in the room.”

Liar, was Yoongi’s first thought, eyes glaring even more at the long, black-haired royal.

Everyone at the table could feel the tension between their Emperor and the young royal, and still no one chose to speak up about it.

Yoongi had a reputation. He is the first ever Emperor to achieve the throne through combat rather than family bloodline—and he is also the youngest ruler to ever be placed higher than a simple king. But that weren’t the only things he was known for. He was also generally known for being intelligent and quite reserved, and cruel if absolutely necessary, and also able to hold a grudge. It may sound simple, but everybody knew that if their Emperor had something against you, your days were limited.

So that’s why nobody chose to speak up when seeing the menancing glares their Emperor were sending at the youngest and only surviving Kim. Because they knew if they intervened, they’d only anger him and get on his list, and that’s the exact opposite of what they want to do.

“Your Majesty,” his advisor suddenly whispered right beside him. “I think it would be a good idea to continue the meeting. Some of your guests has some things to say about the...improvements you’re doing to the North.”

Yoongi clenched his jaw, eyes scanning over Taehyung once more before turning his attention to the other royals. “Sure,” he then says, “which one of you want to speak first?”

Not even a second later, Park Jimin, ruler of the Park Kingdom stood up from his seat and spoke. “Your Majesty, my council and I believe that the border that you have placed around my region is completely unnecessary.”

“How so?” Yoongi asks, leaning back against his chair with an amused look on his face. He had to admit that he was impressed that the blonde man was the first to speak up. He may not be the youngest royal out of everyone, but he certainly is the one with the least experience when it came politics.

“For starters your border cuts right through my kingdom’s river, slicing our water supply in half,” he starts, voice slightly raising. “And the amount of wood you required for the construction of the wall resulted in about ninety percent of the forests in my region to be completely cut down, forcing most of my workers into unemployment.”

Yoongi continued to listen closely with his hands laced together and resting on top of his chest, rocking back and forth in his chair with an intent glint in his eyes.

“I also find it completely unfair how your border only crosses over my kingdom but no one else’s.” Jimin continued to rant, jamming his finger repeatedly angerly against the table while keeping his eye contact with him. “I think it’s not for protection like you have claimed many of times, but as a prison, to keep my people in check. You’re nothing but a—”

Yoongi slammed his hand heavily onto the table, instantly silencing the young royal and causing everyone to gulp nervously. He may at times find it amusing when someone fights back, but he will never allow anyone to talk down against him, not in his own residence.

“You think I built that wall as a prison?” Yoongi asks, chuckling when the blonde man didn’t reply. “Are you forgetting what happened before I built that wall? Spies from the South would come right into our territories and would gather information on us, murder our people in their sleep—that’s how your parents died, am I correct? Some spy that sneaked into their palace assassinated them when they were asleep? It would such a shame if the same thing happens to you—after I take down the wall, of course.”

Yoongi smirked when noticing the seeing Jimin’s jaw clenching and hands angrily balling into fists. “So don’t you ever accuse me again? Because everything I do is for the best of my people, not just yours. The wall is only bordering your land because your land is the only one that connects with the South.”

Jimin’s head hung low, hands unclenching and lips dropping into the frown.

“So before you come at me, you should make sure that you have all the information, do you understand me?” Jimin nodded and sat down.

Everybody tensed when Yoongi then stood up from his seat and slowly, intimidatingly made his way to Jimin’s chair. And when placing his hands on the younger man’s shoulders, Yoongi couldn’t help but chuckle when feeling him jump slightly underneath his touch. “Normally I’d kill anyone who spoke to me that way,” leaning down, he whispered into Jimin’s ear, sending chills along his pale skin, “but I’ll let it slide for once since you’re new to this whole thing.”

“T-Thank you, your Majesty.”

With one last pat on the shaking man’s shoulder, Yoongi pulled away, and he was standing straight again, his eyes suddenly fell on your figure who stood near the entrance of the conference hall. But you weren’t alone, no, three servants that he couldn’t recognize was with you. The four of you seemed to be in a deep conversation, and with everybody focused on him, nobody noticed you.

Yoongi’s eyes slightly squinted out of suspicion when seeing you then bow your head at the three servants, a smile on your face before each of you went your separate ways.

Yoongi is definitely going to look into that.

“Now,” returning his attention back to his guests, Yoongi leaned himself against the table, keeping close to the blonde man that was still trembling. “Does anyone else have anything to say to me?”

“N-No no, your Majesty,” Jung Hoseok, another royal spoke up, gulping anxiously as he tightened his hand around his wife’s who sat beside him. “We have no complaints whatsoever, you’re doing an amazing job—the perfect ruler.”

Kiss ass, Yoongi rolled his eyes, pushing himself away from the table. He then shifted his attention towards your husband and asks, “what about you, your Highness? Anything to say?”

Taehyung shook his head. “No, your Majesty.”

“What a bunch spineless people,” Yoongi’s mind scoffed, and he couldn’t agree more.

His advisor then rose from his chair and spoke up, “okay everyone, thank you all for attending his Majesty’s annual end of conference feast this year. You may all now return to your rooms and get some rest before heading back to your own residences in the morning.”

Yoongi stayed back and bid farewell to everyone, and once everyone was gone he left the conference hall with only one thing on his mind—you. He was determined to find out what exactly were you and those three servants were discussing about. Yoongi was so rapt on you that he didn’t even hear his advisor calling out of him to come back.

He practically jogged to the chambers hall, heading straight to your room and when he got there, just as he was about barge right through the door he was then stopped by a sudden sound. Moans could be heard on the other side of the door—female moans. Yoongi’s hands were already hovering over the door handle before he opened it slightly to where there was only a crack, giving him the view of seeing your husband with same servant girl from the night before.

Yoongi watches as she claws his back, legs wrapped tightly around his waist as he place open mouth kisses along her bare chest and thrusted deep into her, causing loud, pleasurable moans to erupt from both of their mouths.

“T-Tae,” the young servant girl gasped, hands running up and down his sweaty back and fingers digging into his marked, glistening skin. “I’m close.”

“Me too, love,” he groaned back, leaning down and capturing her lips into a passionate kiss. “Together, okay...?”

Utterly shameless, Yoongi shook his head and pushed away from the door with disgust. Just as he was about to continue searching for you, he froze at the sound a voice behind him—a female voice.

“Are you looking for Lady Kim, your Majesty?”

Yoongi turned around and was greeted by one of your servants, hands laced together and hanging in front of her with a wide smile on her face. “No, I’m not,” he quickly replied, shaking his head. He expected her to just nod her head and leave, but instead she released a small chuckle and turned around, saying in a soft tone, “follow me.”

Yoongi was hesitant, eyes burning suspiciously into the servant girl’s back as she began to walk away. But he soon decided to follow her despite the constant warnings that were running through his head at the moment.

The servant’s gaze was trained on the path in front of her, not even bothering to acknowledge the glare she was receiving by platinum-haired man that was trailing right behind her.

The warnings that were consuming Yoongi’s head started to get louder as he continued to follow her deeper into his residence, parts of his home that he hasn’t even been in.

Yoongi stopped in his place when the servant led him to a room with dark, double doors. “What is this,” he asks with a cold expression, causing the young girl to chuckle and open the door without saying a word to him. He was about to question her even more but when he got to see what was behind the door, leaving him speechless.

Standing right in front him was you, along with over a dozen guards and servants that were from many different kingdoms. Some of the guards and servants were part of the Park Kingdom, some were from the Jung Kingdom, and others were from your own home.

“What’s going on here?” Yoongi asks, his eyes glancing across the many different pairs that were staring right back at him.

“They work for me,” came out of your mouth. “We are all part of movement that believes that the North needs a change in leadership—which is you. You’re the only that deserves to rule the North, not these cowards.”

Yoongi was speechless. For once in his life he didn’t know to say. For the first time he wasn’t the one that was planning in the shadows, plotting against somebody—but instead it was people who he has never even met before. “Why,” was the only thing that came out of his mouth.

“Because war is coming your Majesty,” you stepped towards him to where you stood only inches away from his face, staring up to meet his eyes. “My agents told me that the South is planning an invasion into our territory, and the way the other kingdoms are ruling their land—we won’t survive this war. You are the only one that is capable of leading us to victory.”

Yoongi turned towards your followers. “Do you all agree with him?”

“Yes, your Majesty,” one of the guards spoke up. Each and every person then stepped forward and began to speak loudly on their opinions of their leaders.

“Park Jimin is too young to be King—he doesn’t know how to rule.”

“He can’t even hold a sword properly.”

“Jung Hoseok is a spineless man!”

“Damn right he is! The moment the South comes barging intl his palace, he’ll do whatever it takes to save his own skin and not his people.”

“Kim Taehyung is shameless bastard who would rather spend his time fucking his servants than leading his own Kingdom.”

Yoongi could see you snicker at that comment.

“He spends our taxes buying whores instead of using it to improve our home.”

“None of them belong on the throne!”

“They are right, your Majesty,” you stared at him with a small smirk on your lips. “Out of everyone, you’re the only that deserves to rule us. You are the one who will lead us to glory.”

Yoongi stared down at you with such desire. He may have found you attractive before, but now he couldn’t help but find you utterly irresistible. “So this isn’t just some power trip? Doing all this just to get to the top?”

Yoongi had his suspicions already about the war. He has heard from his own agents that the South were planning on some sort of invasion, but there wasn’t any evidence that confirmed that. So sadly he hasn’t been able to do any preparations—at least, none without the other royals knowledge of it.

You shook your head. “I don’t care about power, your Majesty—only survival, and you’re the best way to achieve that.”

“I see,” Yoongi reached up and stroked his chin, “how would you all do this anyway? Kill the rulers of each Kingdom can be tricky, and what about their heirs?”

“It’s quite easy,” you answered with a small grin. “They all have their jobs,” you nodded at your followers, “once they are home and unguarded, that is when they’ll strike. And as for their heirs, well, that’s not really a problem.”

Yoongi raised a brow. “Jung Hoseok’s wife is unable to bare a child, and he also doesn’t have any younger siblings to take over. So once he passes, rulership of his Kingdom immediately goes over to you. Same goes for my husband and Park Jimin.”

“I see,” Yoongi hums, biting inside of his cheek. “So what’s my job then?”

You smirk. “The only thing you have to do is have your succession speech ready, your Majesty.”

“But I have another problem,” Yoongi added. “Many people already disagree with our war with the South. How will we manage to persuade them that this is necessary? It’ll be difficult since three of the four leaders of the North are dead.”

“Trust me, your Majesty,” you spoke with such clarity and a smile on your face. “Everything is planned out and you don’t have to worry.”

Yoongi didn’t replay, eyes briefly glancing at the people that surrounded him. You must’ve noticed his still cautious state because next thing he knew you were signaling everybody out, telling them to “get some rest and prepare for your departure in the morning.”

“Why are you doing this exactly?” Yoongi asks the moment you two were alone in the room. “Because there is no damn way you’re doing this just for survival. I mean,” he suddenly chuckles, “you are giving complete control of the North. What is your angle here? Are you going to kill me after all this is so that you become Emperor?” Yoongi was starting to get frustrated. He has never had trouble understanding someone before until he met you. And now because of you, his mind was a complete mess.

“That’s not my intention at all, your Majesty,” smiling up at him, you placed your hand on his shoulder, smirking at the feeling of him tensing underneath your fingertips. “All I want is for the North, my home—your home to finally come out of its shadow that it has been forced to hide in for centuries.”

“And you think I’m the one that can do that?”

“Yes,” you nod, fingers dancing across his chest. “I’ve read records of previous Emperors and you’re the only that deserves that title. Unlike the other ones, you are resilient, intelligent, ruthless if necessary, and you even fight alongside your men which no other Emperor has done before.”

As each compliment came out of your mouth, Yoongi couldn’t help but feel himself starting to get hard underneath his lower robes, and you running your hands seductively over his chest definitely wasn’t helping.

“How should I repay you for your kindness then,” Yoongi found himself melting against your touch, his hands finding their way into your waist. “Because someone like you definitely deserves an reward for their loyalty.” Yoongi then turns you around in one quick motion, causing you to gasp at the sudden action and feeling his strong chest pressed up against your back and lips brushing against your ear.

A tiny moan escaped from your lips when feeling his hard length suddenly rub against your ass, you yourself starting to get hard as well. “Should I buy you plenty of jewelry, or maybe a large palace just for you?” Yoongi then pushed you up against the wall, smirking at the small gasp that came from you. “Or perhaps,” another moan came out of your mouth when one of his hands slipped underneath your robes and caressed the soft flesh of your behind, “make you wife?”

Yoongi chuckled when feeling shiver against him. “Yeah, you would like that, huh? Being my wife, an Empress, ruling right beside me?”

“Y-Yes, your Majesty,” you stuttered out, tilting your head back from the sensation, giving Yoongi the opportunity to lean down and leaving wet, tender kisses along your neck and bare shoulder, leaving dark bruises that’ll be near impossible to cover up tomorrow morning.

“Good,” Yoongi left another mark on your skin, dragging his finger across your ass, teasing your clenching hole with his fingertip. “Then how about we—secure our deal, then? And when you nodded, that was all Yoongi needed before turning you around to face him and crashing his lips down forcefully onto yours. The kiss was rough, yet tender and filled with lust. With your hands around his neck, Yoongi’s slid down to your thighs and hoisted you up into his arms, deepening the kiss with his lips moving in perfect sync against yours.

The kiss was like a drug that neither of you couldn’t get enough of.

“Please, your Majesty,” you whimpered against his lips, which made Yoongi want you even more than he already did. “Can you please h-hurry?”

Yoongi smirked against your lips, pulling away. “Don’t worry, my love, just be patient.”

It was quite ironic though, because Yoongi was everything but patient when it came to you. He couldn’t wait any longer. Instead of carrying you all the way to his chamber, he laid you on the closest flat surface which happened to be a table and tore your robes completely off of you, leaving you bare and them in ruins.

Yoongi decided to take his sweet time with you, dragging his lips across your ankles, up your legs to your meaty thighs. He then began to leave open mouth kisses over your abdomen and up your chest, teasing your nipples with his tongue and grazing the wet muscle over your collarbone. Yoongi continued his assault on your body until he reached back up your lips, capturing them this time into a soft, passionate kiss which you gladly returned without a second thought, hands sliding up to his shoulders and helping him strip from his own robes, revealing his pale and toned body.

Your mouth watered at the sight of him, eyeing his define muscles, the way his abs clenched as he climbed onto the table and hovered over you, and the way his biceps bulged as he held himself above you. “Y-Your Majesty—”

“Yoongi,” he cut you off, pulling away and moving his lips to your throat. “Call me, Yoongi, my love.”

“Y-Yoongi,” you tried out, heart warming in both of your chests once hearing his name come out of your mouth. It sounded right coming from you. “Please—”

“Don’t worry, my love,” Yoongi reassured you, moving his lips back up to yours. “I’m here, I’m here. Let me show you how it feels to be loved by a real man, yeah?”

The night was then soon filled with nothing but the sound your combined moans, skin slapping and the shared whispers of sweet words between one another.

This was the start of something new.

“T-Taehyung, faster, faster please!”

The sound of the woman’s moans and the bed’s headboard banging against the connecting wall to your room made your blood boil. Your hands clenched into fists and teeth biting angrily down onto your lips.

“Be patient, my love,” you could hear your husband say through the thin wall, making the rage that flowed through your veins grow more. “Let me cherish you, beautiful...”

“Your Highness,” the sound of a man’s voice tore you out of your thoughts, “I’ve done what you’ve asked me to do.”

“Everything’s prepared and ready?”

The guard nodded his head once you turned around, “yes, your Highness. The only people remaining in the palace are your loyal followers. Everyone else has been sent home.”

“Good,” only came out of your mouth before leaving your chambers with the guard following closely behind you. You walked over next door and didn’t bother knocking before barging right in, your husband and the girl instantly jumping to cover themselves with the thin bedsheets.

“What the fuck?!” Taehyung curses loudly, staring at you with wide eyes and wrapping his arms around the girl’s waist, pulling her close. “What are you doing here? I told already you that I’m staying here tonight.”

“I know,” you replied with not even a single ounce of emotion heard in your voice.

Taehyung’s eyes then shifted towards the guard that stood beside you. “What’s going on here?”

You didn’t say anything, only smiled, and that caused fear to form in the pit of Taehyung’s gut. With just the simple nod of your head, the guard walked over to the servant girl and snatched her by her hair, tearing her away from his grasp and yanking her off the bed and onto the ground.

“Stop—” Taehyung tried to reach for her but stopped when the guard pulled out a dagger and held the sharp blade against her neck, tears shining in her eyes. He then turned towards you, eyes glistening as well, “why are you doing this?”

“Change,” was all you said before nodding your head again, giving the guard the order to slide his blade across the girl’s throat, killing her instantly and letting her limp body collapse into the ground.

“N-No no,” Taehyung didn’t hesitate this time to jump out of the bed, despite being completely nude and taking her now lifeless body into his arms, blood staining the ground and his skin, and tears spilling uncontrollably from his eyes. “She was pregnant...”

“Oh well.”

Taehyung’s head shot up from your heartless comment, his teary eyes shining with a newfound rage. Before he had the chance to say anything the guard approached him from behind and wrapped his arms tightly around his neck. He immediately began clawing at his arms, trying to gasp for air that was becoming harder and harder to obtain, eyes bright red and nearly bulging out, tears slipping from them and sliding down his cheeks.

The last thing he saw before he took his last breath and eyes slowly closed was you standing in front of him with a sinister grin on your lips.

“Your Majesty.”

Yoongi glanced up from his book to see his personal advisor standing right in front of him by his library’s entrance. He hummed in reply, signaling for the young man to continue. We’ve gotten word from Lady Kim—” Yoongi glared at him, causing his advisor to pause and correct his words, “—I mean, ____’s agents that they have completed their duties.”

“They have?” Yoongi asked with a raised brow. He knew you were more than capable of doing this, but he thought something this major would take at least a week to accomplish. He didn’t expect to hear about any success a day later.

“Yes, your Majesty,” his advisor nodded. “The Jung palace is flames at this moment and there is word that Jung Hoseok himself and his wife were in their chambers when the fire happened. And as for Park Jimin, he was found murdered in his bed with a dagger in his chest. Some say it was one of his concubines that done it.”

“What about Kim Taehyung?” Yoongi found himself asking, his mind instantly thinking of you. “Was ___ successful?”

“Yes, your Majesty he was,” his advisor answered. “I was informed about Kim Taehyung’s death by ___ himself.”

Yoongi couldn’t stop the smile forming on his lips. “Good.”

“Would you like to start writing your succession speech now, your Majesty?”

“Yes,” Yoongi answered. “We’ll have the succession conference next week, and make sure every minor clan leader comes so that they know who is in charge now.”

“Yes, your Majesty,” his advisor nodded his head, and before leaving he turned back and said to him in a teasing tone, “oh, and someone is here to see you.”

Yoongi was about to ask him who it was, but he stopped himself when his eyes suddenly landed on you standing in his library’s entrance, his heart stopping in his chest at the sight of you. “H-Hey,” he stuttered out, cringing at the sound of himself. In all his years of living, nobody has ever had this type of power over him—but he wasn’t complaining either.

“Hello, your Majesty,” your reply sent tingles all over his body—and he loved it.

There was nothing but silence afterwards between you two because there wasn’t any need for words. The only thing you two needed to express the feelings you have for each other was your eyes—the passion, the lust, the want that shined in them.

This is just the beginning for you two.

would you guys like to see a drabble series of these two in the future maybe? emperor yoongi and his male wife.

TAGLIST:

@ben-c0c, @sombreboy, @theclawofsa, @joongtoons, @xavi-in-kpopland, @ephemeralkookie, @yoshiure, @illbeyournightmare, @sonderkook, @spaceisbigger, @catboygyu, @justqueerandhereforthetea, @xxminilah​

#bonnyskies #bts #bts angst #bts one shot #bts x reader #bts x male reader #min yoongi #min yoongi angst #min yoongi one shot #min yoongi x reader #min yoongi x male reader #yoongi #yoongi angst #yoongi one shot #yoongi x reader #yoongi x male reader #bts imagines #min yoongi imagines #yoongi imagines

[minniepetals]

nightlight

— summary: things have never been easy for you but you never expected it’d be them that would make things easier

— pairing: bts x reader

— genre: angst, fluff, mafia!au, gangsters!bts, rich!reader

— word count: 7.7k

— warnings: (triggering topics!) reader is sold to bangtan, dysfunctional family, allusions to an abusive father/husband, harassment, reader has a tough life growing up, guns, violence, jungkook calls her a whore (but apologizes), mentions of death, minor character death, insomniac!reader, nightmares, hurt and comfort

— rec music: finding hope - nightlight

Starlight star bright.

Fallen stars shooting in your dreams.

A wish, a hope. A prayer to escape from the world. From responsibilities and from the sacrifices that keeps you trapped in these chains of yours. 

You keep yourself from feigning a smile, knowing it means nothing, knowing there is no reason to fake anything when the rest of the world is already doing the job.

Your father doesn't love you.

If he does, he wouldn't have thrown you out of his life when things got too hard, too difficult because he messed with the wrong man.

The same man whom you kneel in front of. The same man who takes your face in his hands, gentler than your father can ever, and gives you a blank look when you meet his gaze.

Call it sickening but his eyes look quite lovely.

Beautiful even.

Maybe that is why you don't flinch away when he holds a sinister smirk. Or perhaps you had already gotten used to your father's actions and now he's the only one that can ever make you feel afraid.

That's why you can't be afraid of the mafia boss.

Because even though he kills, he doesn't hurt you.

Maybe not yet, maybe you're still expecting it, but his hands never hangs in the air, hoping to swipe it right across your face.

"Why do you always stay awake?"

You turn around from the window, catching the gaze of one of his most trusted men.

Park Jimin leans against the door to your supposed room, the moonlight illuminating his pretty face. He has an arched brow, pillow lips pressed together, arms crossed against his chest.

"Is the room not to your pleasing?" He asks you. A soft yet hard tone. "Do you need a bigger room, princess?"

He mocks you. The daughter of a businessman who should have known the consequences to his actions and now his business is at stake, with his daughter in the hands of one of the darkest gangs.

He played with the wrong card and these men will never let you forget it.

Yet you remain calm as you shake your head lightly. Sincerely. "I am thankful for this room," you tell him.

"Then sleep."

As if it is easy.

As if it had always been easy.

"I...will try," you promise him, not brave to go up against him or make excuses. He is scary but not as scary as your father.

You wonder what your father is doing right now. Is he sleeping? Living a better life now that you are gone?

You wonder if your mother is alright.

But then again, she's escaped him so perhaps she is indeed living a life far better than when she lived with the two of you.

"Trying is not hard enough," Jimin says and your gaze falls to the floor.

"I'm sorry."

Jimin scoffs. "Sorry?" He repeats. "For what? Not sleeping?"

"Yes," you hum softly, "and for being here."

"Not really your choice now is it?" He steps away from the door, arms uncrossing. "You've got to be braver than this, princess." The name is lighter. "There's no need to apologize for something you had no control over."

"Still, I.." you watch your hands hold each other, gripping against one another tightly, "I'm sorry for what he's done."

"That should be his words, baby, not yours."

You hear the door click closed and his footsteps echoing away.

.

.

"You know how to treat wounds?"

Hoseok stares at the concentrated look on your face, lips pursed, eyes barely blinking one bit as your fingers work their ways stitching him up.

"I've often had to do this," you tell him and it's a bit of surprise. "My father..gets in trouble many times."

He raises a brow. "He's messed with other gangs?"

"I have no clue on the backgrounds. He doesn't tell me and I am in no position to ask."

"You're his daughter."

You don't reply, just keeping quiet.

But he sees you blink, sees the slight hesitation in your hands, how your eyes just stares blankly for a brief moment before returning to focus.

You try to hide it but he knows there's something going on that isn't right.

He shouldn't be surprised. Your father is the one who offered Namjoon to take you in the first place and they allowed it only because they believed you were someone worthy to your father.

But it looks like that isn't the likely story.

He's tricked them, so maybe this should be the moment when he lets the rest know to kick you out.

You're not a pawn anymore at this point.

But he doesn't understand why he doesn't feel like making a move.

.

.

The halls of the mansion is dark and empty even when it is daylight so you can never really come to understand how much time has passed until you return to your room, tired and drowsy and check the windows.

It is usually dark by the time you come back from your duties of cleaning and cleaning but even then you can't fall asleep.

Some days are harder than the rest but it's better.

Better than playing your father's puppet in the media as the world's perfect daughter.

"Why don't you ever complain?"

You look up from scrubbing the floors, holding your forearm against your forehead to wipe the sweat.

Yoongi stands in front of you, dirty shoes on so you know you'll have to redo the floors all over again. Yet surprisingly to him, you show no sign of distress.

"You seemed to be living the perfect life as a rich man's daughter," he scoffs, "not that he's rich anymore. So why aren't you saying anything?"

You remain quiet for a moment and usually he'll hurt the ones who hesitates to answer him right away but to your surprise, he does nothing but wait for you.

"It's fake," you whisper.

His brows crease.

"The perfect life," you answer the unspoken question. "It's not perfect, as you can see."

"Oh?" A brow arches and he sounds a little amused. "I thought he was just desperate."

"He is," you say, "desperate to throw me away."

"Well," Yoongi begins to turn away, his steps walking off, "this just got a little more interesting."

You return to your duties, choosing to ignore what he means because you're sure he will not speak his mind if you ask.

You're afraid to ask. .

.

The library is more difficult to clean because it is so big but you enjoy yourself there more than most rooms.

Mostly because you get to take a moment to read a few things. No one comes in anyways, which brings out the question as to why waste a whole room filled with books when everything is dusty, as if no one has ever touched a thing.

"A-hem."

Your breath hitches at the sound and you're quick to get back on your feet, book slammed closed and placed right back into its slot.

The boss raises his brow. "Mythology?"

"F-forgive me, sir." You lay your head low, too afraid to meet his disapproving eyes.

"You like mythology?" He asks an unexpected question and you know you have to answer.

"It...interests me."

"Does it?" You nod. "Which one?"

"...Hades and Persephone, sir."

Namjoon chuckles. It isn't anything like the dark chuckles he gives to the ones that have offended him and you wonder why.

"What about that story interests you?"

"Well," you say. It's a little easier to speak. "I just..find it quite lovely. Persephone would have been a forgotten goddess if Hades had not given her purpose. Their love created the seasons. The darkness fell in love with the flower."

"More like he fell for her and stole her away to his kingdom."

"But she eventually found love within the Underworld God as well," you point out. "He showed her kindness, showed her that he's capable of love as well, and that he isn't as heartless and cruel as everyone deems him to be."

He takes a moment to be silent, his eyes meeting yours, the same ones that refused to be afraid of him from the moment he had first taken a good look at you.

You were pure, still pure, and too innocent to fall into the hands of a father who couldn't show his own daughter some bit of love.

Namjoon finds it disgusting honestly, and figured that was the case when you were first offered to him. So after finding out it was indeed true from Yoongi, the fact only makes him more bitter.

"I'm sure the God only felt a change in him because of her."

Yet you shake your head gently at his words. "No one can change you, you do that yourself," you say. "The people around you are the ones that inspires you to change."

Namjoon doesn't understand how anyone can ever dare to think of hurting someone like you.

.

.

A few days later, you don't know how you got here but here you are, standing in a room filled with people in an ivory dress that falls to the floor.

You've been to parties before, you've been to plenty of parties, and it surprises you that you're let out after just two months of staying with the mafia gang.

Are they not afraid of you escaping?

Then again, perhaps it's because they are prepared for your escape in case you do try to leave.

They'll hunt your father down.

He may not love you as you still dreadfully love him, but you won't risk him at the chance of death.

You stand alone, not understanding what your position is because this is their mission. They're here to hunt someone down.

Distraction, Namjoon states, but you don't understand what that means.

Someone walks up to you, a gentleman, who offers you a drink that you decide to let him down on.

Another walks up to you and another.

You feel uncomfortable in the crowd that surrounds you, making lame jokes, trying too woo you.

"How about we ditch this party?"

Oh no, you certainly cannot do that.

"You know, you look quite familiar."

You don't want to be known and expose your identity, you can't do that when you're in the middle of a mission you're supposed to be a part of.

But with these men around, you can't do your job even though you don't know what exactly you're supposed to be doing.

Someone touches you and you flinch. "Please don't do that."

But he only laughs.

They laugh, shrugging it off as if it is not inappropriate.

But it is and you hate it.

Someone slides a hand along your waist and you flinch again before relaxing when you see who the man is.

"She already came with someone," Seokjin glares at them, ready to hurt the guy who dared to touch you.

You don't know why he makes you relaxed but amongst the crowd that eventually dies down around you, Seokjin feels the safest despite knowing what he does.

Maybe it's because you know him.

A little.

When he turns to you, you lay your head in shame. "I-I'm sorry."

He scoffs. "For what?"

You look up at him, confused. "Hm?"

It's a cute hum. "You did your job distracting them, good job." That was what they meant? You really didn't like it and you think he can understand that by the look on your face. "It's okay, you can leave now. Now go there, we've located our guy."

You look over at where he beckons.

A hallway.

"You're...not coming?" You ask. You know it isn't good to question them and it almost scares you but Seokjin doesn't grow angry.

"I'm shutting this party down," he smirks and you can understand what that means.

When he lets you go, you hesitate for a moment, watching him, and when you come to comprehend the fact that he will do nothing until you leave, you bid him goodbye and rush away.

The gunshot comes a minute later as you're running down the hall and you hear the distant screams.

It's hard but you keep running.

Heels hurt but it doesn't matter.

You have to run.

Find someone, one of them. Leave with them.

Yet you can't get far enough because someone grabs you by the arm, pulls you into a room, and forces themself to hold you against their chest, arm choking you and a gun pointed to your head.

Jungkook stands before you with a gun pointed directly at you. Or maybe not at you, maybe at the man. With a blank stare, showing no sign of weakness.

"Let me go or I'll kill her," the man behind you threatens.

You don't know why he thinks you're important to the man and you're sure even Jungkook thinks that.

Because the youngest only shrugs.

"Kill her," he says nonchalantly. "As if I care."

"Then why'd she come with you?"

"She's just a maid."

The man laughs darkly. "A little whore, huh? I hear you don't usually keep girls around for long. Is she that good?"

"You're sick for an old man."

He laughs again, louder, and it brings shivers down your spine. "I can be sicker." Something wet swipes along your cheek and you realize it's his tongue.

His dirty, disgusting tongue.

It breaks you.

Memories flooding back. Your mother, her tears. You, a little girl, and your father not caring one bit.

Jungkook meets your eyes when it tears up, trembling, but he keeps on the nonchalant facade. As if he doesn't care what the man will do to you, so your tears only falls because you are so, so afraid.

You can't do this.

You're still pure.

You can't...you can't.

"Quite sweet," the man hums and you whimper. "What a sweeter voice."

Jungkook rolls his eyes. "Quit your games and just face me already."

He chuckles. "Alright, fine." He releases you, pushes you down the floor where you yelp at the harsh sensation. "Don't worry sweetie, I'll clean you up later-"

But he doesn't get a chance to say anything further.

Once he's distracted, a bullet has already hit his shoulder with no hesitation.

His head snaps back to Jungkook who shoots again. And then again, and again.

You hold your hands over your ears, tears falling at the continuous gunshots that doesn't seem to ever stop and Jungkook's angry voice rings above it.

"After I'm done with you, I'll deal with your family just like you've done to mine. I'll kill them, each and every one of them. Not even your damn dog will be spared."

He can't hear him, you know he can't. There's no chance of survival left with the continuous gunshots that comes and comes, angry waves of hot tears escaping the maknae's eyes when you look up, and your heart shatters.

A broken little boy of a childhood that forced him into this life.

Seeking for revenge for what someone, that someone on the floor, has done to his very own family.

When the ammo is no longer, Jungkook throws the gun harshly at the wall where it hits and breaks, and runs to hold up the man by his collar, fist coming in contact with his face.

He's already dead but even then Jungkook is not satisfied.

How can he ever be satisfied?

His family is gone, never to return to his side.

A lost man. A lost child.

You get up from where you were thrown and take his arm to pull him away. "Jungkook-"

"Get away from me, you whore!"

You ignore his spiteful words and continue pulling at him. "Stop! He's dead!"

Yet Jungkook doesn't care.

"Jungkook!" A few more punches until you finally got him and push him away. "Jungkook," you call his name a little gentler, "it's okay."

He scoffs and pushes you away. "What does a whore understand?"

He goes to stand again but you force him back down, hands reaching out to lay against his shoulders. "It's okay, Jungkook. It's going to be okay," you repeat again. "You don't have to be afraid anymore."

"I'm not-"

"You're going to be alright." You hold him down, staring straight into his eyes. "I know you're scared," you say, "I know you're confused. But it's going to be alright. You're just a little boy who's gone through so much. You must have been hurting for so long, Jungkook, but you're okay now and I am so, so proud of you."

You hold his face, a soft gentle sensation against him, thumbs brushing away the hot tears that had fallen from his eyes.

You wipe away the blood on his face. Watching him gently, holding him gently.

And Jungkook doesn't understand but he tears up a little more. His chest tightens and he feels himself trembling.

What a lovely pair of hands.

So he surprises you by wrapping his hands around your waist and pulling you in close, face resting against the crook of your neck.

"I'm sorry," he whispers.

You freeze for a second before relaxing and holding him still, hairs running along his fluffy hair, stroking it sweetly. "You're alright now. It's okay."

"Jungkook-!"

The rest of them comes rushing into the room only to find a dead body, blood spilled all around, with you and Jungkook holding onto each other as Jungkook cries.

Jungkook's crying.

Holding you.

He doesn't do that unless he absolutely cannot take it anymore.

He doesn't ever do that in front of anyone but them.

And now you.

You look up at their faces, some bits of blood managing to wipe across your face, with eyes of innocence, and Namjoon wonders why you aren't running away despite the blood in the room.

Despite having just witnessed Jungkook killing someone.

.

.

Taehyung lays in the pool when you walk in to clean a day later, body floating under the moonlight, eyes laying closed.

So when he hears a soft gasp and a bucket falling against the tiles, his lids open and meets your eyes from where you stand.

Heat rushes to your face and you're quick to turn around. "I-I am so sorry, sir! I didn't know you'd be here. I-I thought that, that I could clean up early since no one would be here."

What a cute little thing.

"Cleaning up at one in the morning?" He swims over slowly to you, arms laying on the edge of the pool, chin resting against his wet skin with an amused grin. "Shouldn't you be sleeping?"

"I..I couldn't sleep, sir."

Sir.

He smirks, a hum leaving his lips. "Can't sleep, hm?" Jimin's told him he checks up on you from time to time and always find you awake at night. "Then come join me."

You turn around abruptly. "W-what? No, I can't do that."

"Why not?" Taehyung shrugs casually. "A good swim is a nice way to clear your head. And don't worry, I won't drown you or anything."

You aren't worried about that.

For some reason.

But you still don't think swimming in the middle of the night is a good idea whether he's your superior or not.

But Taehyung isn't a man who takes no as an answer.

He kicks himself out the pool and the next thing you know, he's wrapping his wet body around yours and dropping the both of you straight into the deep pool.

He watches you struggle from down there, a nonchalant expression resting on his face while your eyes are squeezed shut as you try and fail at getting air again.

So Taehyung swims on over and takes you in his arms where he swims back up and lets you breathe again.

You gasp for air while he holds you and lets you sit against his strong arms.

It takes a moment but you manage to come back to him eventually.

You don't rush to yell at him like he expects you to. You don't even make a scowl.

You just rest your hands against his shoulders, holding on tightly and panting and coughing because you don't know how to swim and the deep water scares you.

He's got to admit though, you look quite pretty all wet like this, resting against his hold, clothes completely drenched.

"Um..-"

He adjusts his hold and your face comes closer to him than the two of you expects.

Your face flushes some more, nose slightly touching, and your eyes gaze into one another under the bright moonlight from above.

"...hi," you squeak.

Taehyung laughs. "Hi."

"It's um...cold."

"Is it?" You hum. "I like swimming in the cold."

"Do you often swim at night?"

He nods. "It's nice after a day of...you know what. It's relaxing."

"Won't you get a cold?"

"I have thick skin, little one." You sneeze right then and he chuckles. "But it looks like you don't."

"I'm sorry," you say as he swims on over to the edge of the pool, "for this and for interrupting your time here."

The man shakes his head assuringly as he settles you on the tiles of the pool. "It's nice to get a visitor every once in a while. Can you stay a little longer?"

You blink. "You want me to?"

"I do," he hums. "Besides, you don't have extra clothes and the boss wouldn't want his floors wet."

You bite your lower lip. "Right."

"There's some towels over there and you can wear my clothes."

You look on over where there's a racket of the white towels and his clothes hanging. But is it right? "I..shouldn't."

"Why not?" He asks, stroking back calmly. "Take it or you'll catch a cold staying here all drenched."

It takes a few more moments of hesitation but you eventually give in and does as he's asked.

The night is a little less lonely as you sit beside the pool, watching as Taehyung floats around on his back, eyelids closed, with a soft tune humming from his throat.

.

.

"Hey, you okay?"

You look up at the sound of Jungkook's voice who walks into the main living room, a face of concern resting on his face in this late afternoon. He's gotten gentle towards you ever since that night.

"Um..why do you ask that?" You reply with your own question while spraying the coffee table and wiping it down.

"You look tired," he states. "Jimin says he doesn't see you sleeping a lot..or ever."

"I'm fine," you insist.

But he goes on anyways. "Is it the atmosphere? Or maybe you're one of those people who needs something in order to sleep? Taehyung can't sleep without hugging something or someone."

What a cute revelation.

"Do you need to hold something? But then again, you've got pillows." You don't know why he's acting so concerned. "Or maybe you need a physical someone to hold you?"

And if you do, what will he do?

"Or do you need a nightlight?"

"It's okay," you tell him. "I don't need anything."

"But you can't sleep."

"I'm used to it."

Jungkook frowns. "That's not good, Y/N. You need to sleep." He pauses for a brief moment. "Why can't you sleep?" You don't answer him right away so he calls your name sternly. "Y/N."

You may have gotten a little closer but you still work for him, and you and your father's life is indebted to him.

"I get scared."

It's an honest truth, something that scares you for even speaking off it.

He settles down before you, taking your hand from mindlessly wiping at the same spot for the past few minutes.

"Of what?" He asks, silently hoping for you to meet his gaze.

But you don't.

It only falls to your lap.

"The nightmares," you say.

He hums as if he understands and he probably does. A young boy walking into the mafia life. His nightmares may be a little different from yours but nightmares are all the same.

Leaving you afraid, scared, trembling, and weak.

Too weak and terrified to close your eyes again. Afraid for the darkness to consume you all over again.

Even the drowsiness is not strong enough to pull you back asleep.

"What are they of?" He carefully asks.

"It...varies." You stare at the hand that holds yours. "Sometimes it's of me, trapped and vulnerable. Sometimes it's of me dying. Sometimes it's of my father, or my mother."

You've never spoken of your mother except now.

He doesn't think he's ever heard anything about your mother before. Not from your father, not from Namjoon who holds records of your father.

Even the news that had once made your family relevant to the world has never said anything about your mother.

"She left us, thankfully, and I think that she's happier now so I don't really care that she ran away. But sometimes I dream back to the days when things were rougher. Rougher for her and I couldn't do anything to help. When she ran, I was about twelve then. She wanted me to go with her but back then I cared for my father's mentality and what he'd do if the both of us were gone. He wouldn't do well, he grew sick then. So I escaped last minute when we got on the train and made up excuses to my father not to hunt her down."

"Y/N..."

He squeezes your hand and holds his other one up to your face, brushing away the tears you hadn't realized had escaped.

"Jungkook," you hold the hand that touches your face, "I don't think my father is going to pay back what he owes."

"Yeah," he sighs, "we had a haunch since it's been months."

"Are you...angry?" You ask worriedly. "Is Namjoon angry?"

"There's a good and a bad," he tells you. "The bad thing is that there was a lot of money he borrowed from us. The good thing is," his gaze falls soft your way, his hand grazing your cheek in a gentle manner, "I don't care because he won't be taking you back any time soon."

"What if...what if I don't want him to take me back...ever?"

"Are you afraid of him?" You nod, lips quivering and honestly he knows that was a foolish question to ask. "Oh baby, come here." He takes your body, letting you settle against his lap, letting your head rest against his chest, and holds you there as you cry softly. "It's okay, you have us now, you have me." He strokes your cheek, the same one that filthy old baster had licked upon and though Jungkook feels angry for him and your father, he keeps himself calm for your sake.

"There's no need to be afraid anymore, baby." A gentle promise that makes your heart smile and ache all at the same time. "Even if he does ever pay us back, I won't let him near you, you got that? You don't have to worry anymore. I'm right here."

.

.

You go missing a few days later and it creates sets of panicking emotions.

"The security cameras didn't catch her anywhere outside," Seokjin claims. "She has to be somewhere in this house. Y/N can't just disappear like that."

"Look around," Namjoon orders and they all begin to split up.

He walks into the library minutes after searching a few other places with Jimin, running around, calling your name. The library is one of the largest rooms and Namjoon curses under his breath because he knows he should have checked here first.

The aisle that holds that mythology book you like so much.

And he does find you, sitting in the dark room, head against the book shelves.

He almost shouts aloud, afraid you had fainted or something, but then he hears a soft snore and he realizes that you've just fallen asleep.

"Hyung, have you-" Jimin pauses when he finds you as well and the two of them both lets out sighs of relief.

"Inform the others," he orders as he walks over to you, kneeling on the floor in front of you.

You're in a deep slumber but he's sure you're neck will be tense if you don't move in to a more comfortable position so he maneuvers you carefully from the support of the shelves to his own chest.

You stir a little and he hushes you softly.

"It's the first time I've seen her sleep," Jimin says in a low whisper as the two of them watch you.

You look so vulnerable.

Peaceful and lovely laying in Namjoon's arms.

But then your face distorts, brows creasing, lips pressed against one another. Your hands come to rest against Namjoon's shirt, clenching onto it tightly, soft whimpers falling from your lips.

There are two stray tears that falls, your head reaching to nuzzle into the comfort of the boss's neck.

"What happened?" Yoongi asks when he and the rest shows up not long after.

"Nightmare," Jimin guesses by what Jungkook has told him.

Namjoon strokes your cheeks gently, brushing away your tears, shushing you lightly. "Wake up, baby," he repeats a few times until you finally open your eyes, the nightmares too hard to bear. More whimpers leave your lips as you sob a little more.

So he holds you a little tighter. "It's okay, baby, I'm right here. I've got you. You're okay now, baby."

.

.

"Your father has gone off my radar."

"O..oh..."

You don't know what it means for you, what any of it would mean. But standing here in front of Namjoon's desk, it scares you a bit.

"I assume the man is trying to escape from the consequences of his actions, not that it's going to help him. If anything, this only makes things worse." He watches you steadily from where he sits, leaned back against his chair, one leg over the other. "Can you tell me where he might be?" He asks slowly. "A safe house? Headquarters? A vacation home he may escape to?"

"There's...a place," you say hesitantly. You aren't sure if your father will be happy about this but then again, is he ever happy when it comes to you? "He has a safe house on Jeju Island."

You tell him the address and he jots it down in a notepad.

"He's not going to give up that easily but neither will I. What's his weakness, Y/N? You must know that, right?"

He hopes and he doesn't hope that it will be you.

For one, if you are then it means he cares more about you than what he shows. But it'll mean he won't be able to get through to the man because he knows he will not use you as a pawn in this game. And two, if you aren't then he'll understand just how bad of a human this guy really is.

Worse than him, a mafia leader.

Because at least Namjoon has a heart.

"He cares a lot about his business," you tell him. "It'll hurt him if his business falls and he goes bankrupt."

Business over his own daughter.

What a piece of crap.

"What..." you hesitate again, afraid to look up since the very beginning when you've entered his office. "What will...you do..?"

"Will it hurt you to see him fall?" He asks you, observing you carefully.

There's a moment of silence as you think it over.

"If he falls...will I fall along with him?"

"No," he's quick to say. "Your father doesn't own you, Y/N, this is your life whether he likes it or not. When I'm done with him, you can choose whether to stay or leave. Either choice you make, I'll make sure you will never fall to the position I hope to break him at."

A choice at your own life.

How different has life finally changed for you.

You take another moment to think again. "Do you believe I should still care about him?"

"He doesn't deserve any of your love and care," he tells you honestly. "He deserves to rot away in hell."

Yet he is still your father.

A father who hurts, a father who doesn't care.

"It's your call, baby."

Your call.

No one has ever given you a choice at anything. First your father, and then the society he had place you in.

Serving as the perfect daughter. Smart, pretty, dependable, and listens well. You don't speak up for your own self even when others criticize you. You don't make friends because your father forbade it. You've never fallen in love, never felt love of any sorts.

And now Namjoon, mafia boss, leader to a ruthless, dark gang, one many fears, is asking for your call.

But you don't know what to do.

"I-I'm sorry, I...I don't know," you admit.

Yet Namjoon remains patient.

"Do you wish to live an independent life, Y/N?" He leans away from his seat, legs uncrossing, elbows resting upon his desk. "Without having to worry about your father or anyone else but yourself? Live your own life, care for your own self and just yourself."

It may sound better than living with your father but it sounds lonely.

So lonely.

So you shake your head. "I want to stay," you tell him and he raises a brow, a bit surprised.

"You don't hate it here?"

You shake your head again. "I like talking," you say, "I like having someone else to talk to. I don't wanna be alone anymore, it scares me."

"This world I live in should scare you more."

"But you're more human than my father can ever be and you care more than what my father can ever give. I-I'm sorry if I'm being selfish, I just-"

"You deserve to be selfish once in a while."

He stands from his chair, rolling it back to take slow steps your way. You look up, meeting his gaze, those intense, piercing gaze, and the world seems to fall silent.

All but the intense beating of your heart.

All but his slow footsteps making his way towards you.

It stops when he's just a few inches away, his height hovering over you and you feel oh so small.

"Human," he says lowly, "no one's ever called me that in a while. It sounds refreshing, like I actually have a heart."

"But you do," you say and point right at his chest. "It's right here."

Namjoon chuckles. "Yes," he hums, taking your small hand into his own, "it is." Your heart skips a beat. "I believe the members won't mind another one added to the family."

"And...you?"

A smirk dances on his lips. "Isn't it obvious? Of course I want you to stay." You let out the breath you hadn't realized you'd been holding onto and he finds it amusing yet sad. "I'll take care of your father," he tells you, a hand reaching out to stroke your soft cheek, "just stay with the maknaes until we get back, alright?"

You nod at his words and he smiles, patting your head.

"Good girl."

.

.

Three days later at around 3 am, the door to your room creaks open and you turn from the window to find Hoseok standing in your doorway.

"He's dealt with," the man informs you.

Black suit on, a messy hairstyle yet he still manages to look good.

More than good.

You don't know what to say, how to deal with this. On one side, this is your fault, you've exposed his weakness and location. Your own father.

But on the other side, he's never treated you as human, never treated you as the daughter you deserved to feel like.

So maybe this is the right thing? Staying in a large mansion bigger than yours once was, living a life far better than your father who...who knows what's happened to him exactly.

"He isn't dead," Hoseok tells you, "but he probably feels that way at this point."

"Did he...mention me?"

A part of you still has hope that he has some humanity left in him, wondering whether he's asked about you, whether he's worried what will happen to you.

And Hoseok sees that without you voicing your thoughts so he keeps the story to himself.

You don't need to know how your father only belittled you some more, or blamed you, calling you plain useless, and not caring about what they'd do to you from now on.

Yoongi punched him a good few times for that.

You didn't deserve such words and the old man doesn't deserve you.

So Hoseok just remains silent as he walks through the door, watching you steadily from where you stand.

He stops where you are, brows furrowing at the sight he sees. "You're tired," he says softly with a hand going on to stroke your cheek.

You take that hand, hold it between yours. "You're cold, Hoseok."

Small hands caressing his, rubbing it to give it your own warmth.

"Sleep, sweetheart."

He presses a kiss against your forehead. A soft kiss.

So maybe it's what makes you a little braver to rest yourself against his chest, against his hold.

He's cold but you welcome it.

"Thank you, Hoseok."

.

.

"You didn't come back last night," Taehyung smirks at his hyung's way when he walks into the kitchen, hair ruffled and messy from just waking up.

Hoseok doesn't hide it. "How could I?" He says, shrugging. "I wanted to make sure the little one fell asleep."

Fresh morning light filters into the room after years of living in just the darkness. Coffee beans and scrambled eggs filling the room.

Yoongi takes a sip of his hot drink with eyes checking the clock that reads somewhere around nine. "She finally slept."

"So what'd you do to the old man?" Jungkook asks.

"Left him to rot away like the life he deserves," Seokjin says bitterly.

"And Y/N? The media isn't going to try and get into her life are they?"

"I've dealt with them last night," Namjoon tells him. "She can live a peaceful life now."

"Not entirely," Jimin points out with a light scoff. "Since when have our lives been peaceful?"

"Well," Yoongi shrugs, "at least there's some light now."

Footsteps are heard, coming from afar, nearing and nearing, and they almost consciously reach for their guns but the steps are two soft for anyone threatening.

Too soft.

And quick.

You run in, stopping at the sight of them with a soft gasp and Jimin stands from where he sits to instantly rush to your side.

Tears fall from your eyes. You're scared, the nightmares making you feel terrified.

"Hey, it's okay, baby," he holds your face, brushing the tears away, gives you kisses on both your eyelids as the rest joins to surround you with worry. "It's okay. We're right here, baby. You're alright now. You're okay."

.

.

"Jin...?"

He hums, asking you to go on when you walk into his office hesitantly, eyes never straying from the computers that surrounds his office, fingers typing away with codes of black and green letters rushing through the screen.

Something you can never come to ever decipher.

"You..you're good with...tracking people down...right?"

He hums again and you fall a little more hesitantly this time.

When he doesn't hear your voice again after a few long seconds, Seokjin stops typing and turns his chair around to face you. "What is it, little one?" He asks. "Do you need me to track someone down?"

His brows are a little furrowed, hoping you don't mean your father. The same one who unfortunately doesn't care much about you.

He doesn't understand why you had the heart to stay and not run away, but then again, perhaps there was no escape.

After all, where would you have gone? He just wishes you hadn't loved him as much.

But the words that comes out of your mouth is something entirely different from what he expects.

"I want you to find...my mother." He stares at you for a moment, a little taken back, and you swallow a lump in your throat. "I just need to know if she's alright," you tell him. "At least then," you pause, "hopefully...another nightmare may go away."

The nightmares, right.

"I just need to know."

He lets himself take a breather, arms opening up for you. "Come here, sweetie." He snakes his arms around your waist, allowing you to fall against his lap. A hand comes up to your hair, fingers playing along a few strands. "If I find her, what will you do? Will you go to find out?"

You're adorable with the slight pout of confusion on your face. He just wishes you smiled more often.

"...may I?"

He gifts you a soft smile, planting a kiss on your temple. "I'll come with you, alright?"

You nod, knowing it'll be better that way. "Thank you, Seokjin."

.

.

The street looks like a nice neighborhood. Suburban home miles away from Seoul.

Peaceful and friendly looking.

"There it is," you say softly under your breath as you stop walking, staring at the number of the house a few feet away.

It's a pretty home with a spacious yard, and suddenly you're feeling quite nervous. Small and timid.

How will she react? Will she even want to see you? You had deserted her on that train after all, left her crying and calling out for you from the window. Her shouts echoes in your dreams from time to time, moments you shall never forget.

You told her you'd head to the bathroom, only to escape, hoping she wouldn't catch you. So the instant her eyes met yours outside the train, all thoughts of watching her quietly leave were thrown out and you ran.

Ran and ran without giving her a chance to chase after you because the train had already began to depart.

You left her a letter in your backpack. She had asked you to pack, fully expecting a few clothes and snacks.

But the only thing in it was a photo of you and her with departing words in sloppy handwriting on the back, signed your name.

Would she forgive you for leaving without a proper goodbye?

Would she forgive you at all?

Seokjin takes your hand without a word, squeezing it for comfort as if he understands your thoughts and insecurities.

You look up at him, smiling, and his heart almost melts.

It's a little sad but you haven't smiled so much so he knows that this is good enough.

You hear voices, a cheery child laughing as she jumps and gasp as you grip onto Seokjin's hand tightly and rush to hide the both of you behind a fence.

There's a child with her parents, holding onto their hands as she skips happily.

Her father makes a joke and they laugh. Her and...

Your heart skips a beat, breath held back, tears forming at the brim of your eyes, throat clogged up, mouth feeling dry all of a sudden.

"Careful, sweetie," she tells the child just around seven years old. "You might fall if you aren't too careful."

"But you and Daddy will be there to catch me, mummy."

"Even so," she grins, picking her up in her arms, "I don't want you getting hurt, okay?"

"Ah, mom, you're always so worried about the slightest thing!"

Her father chuckles as he places a sweet kiss on his wife's temple. They share an understanding gaze, something the daughter will not come to comprehend just yet, and walk into the very home you had been seeking for.

Your mother is always worried about the slightest thing because of you, a young child who's often clumsy, a young child who should have never been exposed to the dysfunctional life of what was supposed to be a lovely household.

But she's escaped that.

Got a new husband, a loving husband, and another daughter.

Your half sister, your step father.

"Y/N?" He calls your name, one of the seven reasons why your life has gotten better, why you're saved.

So you turn to him, smiling sweetly even with tears falling away, and take his hand.

"Let's go home."

Home.

.

.

The sun has already set when the two of you return, lights by the entrance doorway flicking on when you and Seokjin walk up the doorsteps.

The doors open, revealing Yoongi who has on a grumpy frown.

"Where have you been? It's late and you never answered. Do you have any idea how-"

You wrap your arms around him, falling against his chest, and he freezes up, eyes blinking in confusion, looking at his hyung for an explanation.

Seokjin just smiles and though he remains perplexed, he allows your warmth to welcome him and pulls you in closer.

"You okay, baby?"

You nod against him. "Hungry."

He chuckles lightly.

.

.

2 am.

There's a knock at their door and Taehyung comes to open it.

You stand there, looking up at him looking oh so small and adorable. There's hesitation in your eyes, small body rocking slightly from side to side, unsure if this is the right place to come to.

"Nightmare, sweet one?" He asks you.

You shake your head, rubbing at your sleepy eyes. "Can't sleep, want my nightlight."

He tilts his head slightly to the side. "Nightlight?"

"You."

How cute.

It has him smiling no matter how hard he tries to hide it because he likes it. He likes the sound of that.

"Come in, then."

They're already settled in, just a lamp turned on by the bedside and you crawl in to the middle of the large bed.

"Sorry," you mumble quietly as you settle in between Jungkook and Namjoon who holds onto you securely.

Jungkook has his arms around you from the back, spooning you and pressing a soft kiss on your shoulder. "It's okay, baby, don't apologize."

"Sweet dreams." Another kiss pressed against your head, Namjoon pulling the covers up to your neck as your eyes slowly closes.

Your hear the light flickering off and you know you'll have a pleasant dream you haven't had in a long, long time.

"Thank you," you whisper into the quiet night, a confession just on the tip of your tongue but you know you don't have to say it aloud for them to understand.

And they don't have to say a word for you to know either.

#btsboulangerie #btsguild #bts polyamory #bts poly #bts mafia #bts mafia au #bts poly au #bts poly!au #bts x reader #ot7 x reader #bts ot7 x reader #poly!bts #poly bts #poly!bts x reader #mafia bts #bts mafia!au #bts gang #bts gang au #bts angst #bts fluff #bts fanfic #kim namjoon #kim seokjin #min yoongi #jung hoseok #park jimin #kim taehyung #jeon jungkook

[heliads]

Second Best

Based on this request: “a Zoya Nazyalensky story where she and the reader are friends and one night they get into a fight and Zoya confesses her love?”

masterlist

The task before you is simple. All you have to do is use your abilities as a Grisha Squaller to pick up the metal spear before you and launch it across a clearing into the awaiting target. It’s almost offensively easy, something you’ve been training to do since you arrived at the Little Palace all those years ago. It’s very simple, although the fact that you’re now next in line to complete the task makes it seem strangely harder.

However, the eyes of the rest of the Squallers are upon you, so you can’t exactly back down now. You step forward, lifting your hands in the traditional gestures used by the Etherealki whenever they have it in their minds to do something particularly interesting, and the spear lifts before you. You let it hover there, suspended in the air for a second, and then you fling your hands forward, palms facing the target. The spear flies in unison with your movement, burying itself halfway through its length in the target. It’s almost a perfect shot, maybe off by a hair’s breadth. You breathe a quiet sigh of relief.

You can hear applause from behind you, the usual aura of surprise that comes with the feat you’ve just accomplished. With a casual gesture of your fingers, the spear yanks itself out of the target, with only a few sparse pieces of straw falling to the ground as any sort of damage. Well, that and the gaping hole in the center of the target, although that is quickly mended by the Fabrikator kept on hand. You can’t help but grin to yourself as the spear returns to your hand. Let’s see anyone else match that.

You may have spoken a little too soon- seconds after you’ve returned the spear to its awaiting position near the front of the courtyard, it’s hurled again through the air, shooting with the precision of an arrow to land in the direct center of the target. You thought it might be impossible to improve upon the slight difference in your shot, but this latest Squaller has managed it with ease.

Normally, any other blue-garbed Etherealki would be looking around in horror and dismay, upset as to what would cost them the first place spot in the class and curious as to who could land a perfect shot such as that. You, however, are somewhat used to this now, and just keep walking with a grin. You can hear footsteps approaching behind you, and don’t even have to turn around to acknowledge the girl now matching your strides.

“Nice one, Zoya.” The girl beside you smirks. “I should hope so. If I so much as missed the center by a hair, you wouldn’t let me forget it for a week.” You laugh. “Of course not. How could I let go of the chance to not tease Zoya’Best In Class’ Nazyalensky? It would practically be  a crime.” Zoya nods, pretending to be serious. “Absolutely. The Saints might invoke their wrath upon you if you didn’t act upon such an opportunity.” You fling your hand over your heart dramatically. “Here lies Y/N L/N, dead after the Saints wanted to see her make fun of her friend and she let them down.”

Zoya snorts graciously as you pretend to faint on her, shoving your mock limp body aside. “Oh, you consider us friends?” You catch yourself easily, rolling your eyes. “Zoya dear, I know it would bring you no greater pleasure in the world to consider yourself a lone wolf, forever at the front of the pack, but I thought you’d realized by now that you simply can’t get rid of me. We’re friends.” 

You can hear Zoya grumbling, but when you glance over at her, there’s an ill-concealed smile dancing behind her eyes. “That’s an interesting way to convince people to like you, annoy them and make sure you don’t ever leave you alone.” You raise an eyebrow at her. “And did it work, yes or no?” Zoya huffs. “It did, but we’re not talking about that.” You grin. “Of course we’re not.”

You pause by the halls of the Little Palace, ready to part ways as usual. Although the Etherealki and Squallers specifically all have their quarters around the same area, Zoya’s rooms are a ways away from your own. This is typically where you split up, where you go your way and Zoya returns to her own devices, where she’ll most likely plot how to take control of the next lesson and prove herself the best of the students yet again.

However, Zoya shakes her head, continuing to walk next to you. “There are too many people waiting by my doors. I’m staying in yours instead, if that’s alright.” You nod, unable to keep a teasing grin from your face. “Of course it’s alright. It must be so hard, having to deal with suitors and fans so often. I imagine it to be simply exhausting.” You’re expecting Zoya’s vexed scowl and smack on the arm, so you’re able to duck out of the range of both.

This is how it is to be close friends with Zoya Nazyalensky, after all. You laugh with her, develop a thick enough skin to stand the constant scathing remarks that must of course be exchanged, and do your best to keep up with the neverending flow of power and possibility that always seems to come her way. That’s how it has always been, and how it will always be.

It’s not that you mind this, of course. You learned early on that no matter how hard you try, she’s always going to come in first in the class competitions and Grisha displays of strength. Being second out of so many Etherealki is pretty damn good for you, and you can tell that there’s a slight sigh of relief in Zoya’s eyes when you never seem to mind her showing off or ruining what might have been a first place finish for you. Hey- you never came to the Little Palace to always be the best, you came to learn and laugh, and you do that with Zoya. You would never trade what you have with her for fierce competition, even if it meant that you’d start besting her in contests.

This isn’t to say that you wouldn’t change slight aspects of your friendship, of course. For some reason, your heart decided to join the scores of other Grisha and even otkazat’sya that were foolish enough to fall in love with Zoya, and you’re just as hopeless as the rest. It’s just the way that she laughs when she wins, the glimmer of competition and spirit in everything she does, the undeniable thrill in your chest whenever you spot the familiar blue-clad silhouette heading briskly your way. No, you don’t think there was ever a way that you wouldn’t fall under her spell, even if you tried your hardest to fight it.

You could have told her you loved her, you think. You could have mentioned it to Zoya at any point, but you don’t. You’ve seen the way she watches potential friends for their weaknesses, having to always second-guess why they’re talking to her. Is this latest Corporalki approaching her because he truly wants to be her friend, or is it because he instead desires the secrets of her skill in Grisha abilities or as another girl in his bed? For anyone else, you think the constant doubts would drive someone mad, but it doesn’t for Zoya. She’s able to tuck it inside herself, bury it until you wouldn’t even know it was there at all.

She told you once, when the night was dark and long and Zoya couldn’t stop herself from having slightly too much kvas after a hard mission, that she sometimes terrifies herself over the fact that she might always be alone. You can still picture her there, curled up in a chair by your fire, the haunted look in her eyes. You know something happened before she came to the Little Palace, something that made her never trust another soul unless they worked to prove it, but it’s hovering in the back of her mind right now.

So, you nodded at her, and gave her another one of your sapphire blankets to help the way that she won’t stop shivering, and you listen. When Zoya looks up at you again, as if expecting to leave like the others or at least shoo her from your rooms, you simply offer for her to stay the night and not have to go back to her empty quarters. You think that was the moment when she finally accepted that you weren’t going away, when she really started to trust you.

This is precisely why you cannot say a word about how you feel- if Zoya finds out, she’ll begin to wonder if your entire friendship was just borne of a lie, the same as any of the other heartstruck Etherealki who think themselves brave enough to tame Zoya. So, you make sure to direct your lingering glances towards the woods and the scenery around you instead of her, and you force a joking smile instead of a soft look. She would know what you meant if you didn’t hide your heart, so you must do your best to deceive her. 

You’ve arrived in your rooms by now, tossing your outer coats to the side and warming your hands by the fire in the corner. You talk for a while about the class and the other students and the way Marie won’t stop staring at Sergei, a Corpoalki who she most certainly should not be associated with. Zoya stays until the candles burn low, and then she says goodbye with a smile. You return her smile. You always do.

You have a most interesting conversation over the next week. It’s not with Zoya, as it turns out, but General Kirigan. Truth be told, you weren’t expecting it at all. He’d caught you unawares in the library one night, while you were studying the particulars of the making at the heart of the world for a class lecture the next day. He hadn’t been there one second yet appeared the next, looming over your book with a shadow that seemed too tall and menacing to be real.

You had looked up in surprise, but he held up a hand, quelling any doubts that you’d accidentally done something wrong. He spoke to you about a regiment of Grisha in one of the backwater towns, some part of the Second Army that was asking for far too many supplies in exchange for the lackluster job they were doing to protect the potential Grisha in the city. For some reason, he asked your opinion of what to do about them, and you gave it. He thanked you with a smile, then left.

This happened twice more. All three times, he showed up, talked with you for a little bit, and asked a question on what you thought of a particular issue. Sometimes, it was still with the Second Army, and sometimes it was with the opportunities presented to the Grisha at the Little Palace itself. He seemed intrigued to hear what classes were like, saying how he had heard you were one of the best Squallers there were. You had smiled at that, and his eyes had glinted like a hound about to take down his prey.

That was the third visit, the most recent visit. You’re walking back to your quarters now, unable to keep a slight grin from your face. This is it, isn’t it? This is how you make your way from the classrooms of the Little Palace to the battlefield, to a real chance to do something different. When you open your doors, Zoya is propped up in an armchair inside, although this does not surprise you. You’ve long since given her free reign of all that is yours.

She looks up at you, a question already bubbling up in her inquisitive glance. “What’s got you so excited?” She’s never been able to miss a detail, has she? You can’t seem to tuck your smile away. “I’ve been speaking to General Kirigan, three times now. I think he might be on the verge of offering me a job in the Second Army.” You’re not entirely sure what you were expecting from Zoya- an expression of surprise, maybe some congratulatory words. Whatever you thought might happen, you were certainly not expecting her to stand up, face twisted in something that looked almost like fear and anger.

“You can’t do that. You should avoid him as much as possible.” Your feet stall from where you’d been crossing the room to her. “What are you talking about?” Zoya shakes her head, almost manic. “You should stay away from him. What did he tell you?” This, coming from your closest friend when you’d been so excited, is enough to make your happiness start to leach from you, replaced by a cold bewilderment and betrayal. “What does it matter? Zoya, this could be my future.”

Zoya seems unwilling to hear you out. “Tell me what he said, Y/N. You can’t trust a word he says.” You scoff. “I’m not a fool, Zoya. I know what he said, and none of it was a trick. He spoke to me like a friend, and last time he talked to me about potential openings within the Grisha ranks. I could have a position. Isn’t that excellent?” Zoya shakes her head once more. “It’s a trick. He won’t give you anything. Don’t tell me you’re actually going to believe what he says?”

You draw back from her now, all traces of excitement gone from you. “Why are you saying this? Maybe I don’t know if he truly means it or not, but you don’t know anything about this. Saints, I thought you might actually be happy for me.” Zoya almost winces at that. “I’m not- I would be happy for you if I thought this was something real, Y/N, but it’s not. Nothing is with him.” You can feel yourself rising up in anger. “Oh, and you would know about that, wouldn’t you? From all of the time you spent with him? Are you truly doubtful, Zoya, or do you just not want me to be involved with him because you don’t want me to have anything that you hadn’t had first?”

The words are coming out faster now, one after the other. Truth be told, it’s almost good to hear them aloud after so long keeping them inside. “I never had a problem with you being first in class, first in everything. I never will, but I assumed that you would extend that same courtesy to me. Why is it that we’re friends in everything, but the second I seem to get some sort of headway, you have to prove it wrong? Can’t I have anything that isn’t yours already?”

Zoya draws back as if you’ve slapped her. “That’s not how I feel. I’m just trying to keep you safe.” You want to laugh. “This is how you keep me safe? By taking everything away from me until I’m only in your shadow and nowhere else?” Zoya flings her hands in the air. “If it means he doesn’t get his hooks in you, yes! I would rather have you stay here forever than lose you.” You look at her, unbelieving. “And why is that? Because we’re such good friends that you’d trade my future for my complacency?”

Zoya’s voice is soft now, barely there at all. “Because I cannot stand to lose you. Because I love you, Saints damn it, and I’d rather have you hate me than never have you at all.” You stand there for a second, then another, then another. Your breath is sharp and harsh in your chest, but you cannot seem to say a single word. You try for a few, anyway. “You love me?” She nods once. “Yes.”

You do laugh now, incredulous. “Why didn’t you say so, you idiot? I love you too.” She looks almost surprised. “I thought- I thought you just wanted to be friends.” You shrug. All of your anger is receding away from you now, washing back into the banks after a flood. “I did, because I thought that’s all you wanted. I didn’t want to make it seem like I was only your friend because I had feelings for you.” Zoya stands there for a moment, then something almost like a sigh comes from her and she steps forward, wrapping her arms around you. “You generous, impossible fool. I can’t stand you.” You laugh, returning her embrace. “Of course not. You love me.”

requested by @villnella​

grishaverse tag list: someone who would be my squaller bestie @underc0vercryptid​, @darlinggbrekker, @cameronsails​, @aleksanderwh0r3​

#zoya nazyalensky #zoya nazyalensky imagines #zoya nazyalensky x reader #zoya nazyalensky oneshot #grishaverse #shadow and bone #grishaverse imagines #shadow and bone imagines #grishaverse oneshot #shadow and bone oneshot #sab #sab imagines #sab oneshot #zoya #zoya imagines #zoya x reader #zoya oneshot

[yesimwriting]

The Problem With Light

a/n i literally did not mean to write this, i was working on requests and then my mind was like ‘remember that lowkey love triangle kaz brekker x reader x darkling thing you always say you're going to write’ so yeah,, here we are :)),, two longer fics are coming!! 

- 

Summary: Kaz changes his plans after meeting the Sun Summoner and Kirigan teeters on a line the reader isn’t sure she wants. 

-- 

Chapter One: The Conflicts of Prayer 

--

Narrator. 

--

Kaz knows a lot about patience. He knows how to bear the weight that the passage of time thrusts onto one's shoulder. He knows how to cultivate the seeds that he sews. If he wasn’t like this he’d stand no chance at one day avenging the ghost that refuses to leave him. 

But Jesper is almost an hour late. Kaz has been standing in a dimly hit branch of a relatively important hallway in the Little Palace. Jesper was supposed to come while in disguise to bring Kaz his new disguise and his newly repaired cane. Kaz’s hand flexes again, wishing he could feel the detailed head of one of his few comforts beneath the broken-in leather of his gloves. A bitter part of him claims that if Jesper isn’t injured once he arrives, he’ll be injured once Kaz gets his hand on his cane. 

He shifts his weight, the pain in his leg starting to take its toll. The slight relaxation disappears once he hears footsteps. Kaz turns, ignoring the ache the motion brings him. His entire body hardens, preparing for a fight. He doesn’t look like he belongs here yet and there’s nowhere to run. The person crossing his path will need to be taken care of--knocked out or something more permanent. 

The person only pauses to look at him when Kaz angles himself forward in a fighting stance. He watches the person, a girl, shifts back slightly, eyes wide and defensive. She’s a mess--hair disheveled, nose slightly bleeding, and dirty kefta. Her appearance isn’t why Kaz finds himself frozen, not because of the girl’s appearance but because she’s her. Y/n l/n. The Sun Summoner. 

“Sorry! I--” She almost winces, but then her eyebrows furrow together. “You’re not supposed to be here.” Kaz’s jaw locks. He could take her physically, but for all he knows she could raise her arms and blind him permanently with her light. “That’s okay,” she breathes, something in her looking a little relieved, “I’m not supposed to be here either.” Kaz watches her oddly, wondering if her trustingness is a trap in itself. “I won’t tell if you don’t.” 

It’s a joke. That much is clear by the gentle uptilt of her lips. It’s as if she doesn’t know she’s bleeding and looks like she just ran out of a fight. Her expression doesn’t harshen at his silence. Kaz finds himself disliking that. It’s not enough that she can summon the sun, she also has to seem like it.

He needs to say something. Jesper was supposed to be watching her and now he’s not here and she is. The plan is unraveling and if he talks she’ll stay here or reveal where she’s going to next. That’s the kind of thing he needs to salvage this. 

His lips part, but he’s not sure what to say. “You’re not supposed to be here?” 

She shakes her head once. “No--I’m supposed to be in personal training, but I kind of got my ass kicked in group training and my pride needs a break.” The admission leaves her sheepishly. “It’s probably for the best, becoming a Sun Summoner overnight has given me a bit of an ego.” She sighs, the sound strangely light. “Then again, I kind of need an ego for what’s wanted from me and if one bad fight is all it takes to kill it then it’s not strong enough, considering--” Kaz tenses as she cuts herself off. “Sorry, I’m rambling, we both have places to be.” Hope presses into him stiffly. She’s going to say it. “Where--where are you supposed to be?” She shifts back slightly. “Not that I have to know, but you’re not from here, and--” 

Kaz steps forward, pushing through the stiffness in his leg. Y/n’s gaze drops. Kaz’s discomfort worsens, someone like her doesn’t need to know his weaknesses. “Are you here for me to pray for you?” She scratches her arm, “I-I can, but I tell everyone I pray for I don’t consider myself a Saint.” 

The honesty of the comment twisted something in Kaz’s thoughts. “Yes,” he lies, partially distracted by the beginnings of a scheme. He can feel Inej’s future anger as he lies again, “I’m here for prayer.” 

“I spent so long rambling,” she says in a tone that implies apology. 

He nods once, wondering how someone could  be that apologetic and survive. The weight of such power must strangle someone like her. That could be a good thing. Someone like her must be spiraling with all this change and sudden strength. Maybe this could be simpler than an abduction plan, a few choice words and he could convince the girl to come with him. He could get her to believe there was something she needed to do in Ketterdam. If she went there willingly, things could be much more efficient. 

Inej won’t like this, and for this to work he’ll have to think of the right way to present the plan to her. He weighs his options and the details as y/n whispers words with her eyes closed and hands folded together. The words he can make out are kind. He expected that, but what he didn’t expect was the earnestness of them. 

She means each part of her prayers. Kaz regrets noticing that. 

“I can’t promise my prayers do anything,” she finishes, voice returning to its normal volume, “but I hope you get what you need.” 

What he wants is within his grasp now that he knows what to do. “I’m sure good things are near.” It’s the most honest he’s been since her arrival. 

Y/n nods once, “I should go before my reprieve costs me more than it's worth.” 

He watches her disappear down the hallway. Her movements are light, calm and unweighted. 

“Boss,” Jesper’s appearance is brash, “I’ve spent this entire time looking for her. She was in training like she was supposed to, took an awul blow, delivered an even meaner one, and then disappeared.”

Kaz tries to imagine the same hands that were just so neatly folded in prayer as fists. “You just missed her.” He doesn’t wait for Jesper’s reaction, he just takes his newly repaired cane back. “And we’re changing the plan.” 

--

Y/n.

--

I tried going to Baghra. I told someone who believed my prayers meant something that I was going back to training. But then I remembered her words from last time and the shame I felt when I could not create light. I haven’t summoned light once without Kirigan’s touch. 

I’m the Sun Summoner--I am the person that summons the sun by themselves. Kirigan and I aren’t the Sun Summoner together. I’m pathetic. And instead of trying to get better, I’m wandering the library because all anyone can talk about is the way Zoya punched me in the face. 

Baghra picked me apart when I looked shiny. I can’t imagine the kinds of comments she’d make if she saw me with a bloody nose and dead leaves in my hair. I’ll go tomorrow, once Genya fixes both my matted hair and cracked self esteem. 

For now, I have the one thing that’s always comforted me. My books. I wander the library, trying not to think of anything. Of Baghra, of Zoya, of the strange man in the hall. 

He seemed weighted by something. I always wish I could do more for those that ask for my prayer, but the longing is sharper now. I don’t know him, so it’s ridiculous to want to help him so badly, but my uselessness itches beneath my skin in a way I’m not used to. I don’t know why I feel more protective about this stranger than others. I’ve had people fall to my feet weeping, begging for me to save them. That hurt me, but the desire to help this one stranger burns in a way I’ve never felt before.  

“I don’t know why they don’t look for you here every time you disappear.” His voice is as soft and subtle as a shadow. “They’d save so much time.” 

I fight the urge to defensively grasp the first book I can reach. “You’re making it sound like I have a habit of vanishing in order to make a point.” My defense is weak. We both know that this isn’t the first time I ran away from something here. “Sometimes absence is just that.” 

“When you’ve waited for someone as long as I have, all absence is significant.” The words are not harsh but they should be. I don’t know how I could respond to that. 

He steps forward easily, as he always does. I keep myself still despite the way that warmth settles against my chest uncomfortably. I manage to hold onto my stillness even when he raises a hand, one gentle finger brushing above my top lip. I tense at his lingering touch. 

Kirigan turns his hand slowly, exposing the red on his fingertips. “How di--” 

“Training,” I interrupt quickly, “I promise I got a decent hit in as well.” 

When he nods, his expression is clearly weighted but I cannot interpret it. He almost always looks like that. I shouldn’t find anything about the man that stole me from everything I’ve ever known (even though he had good reason to do so) alluring, but I want to understand him. It’d feel like knowing a secret the rest of the world is desperate for. 

For a moment we just stand there, Kirigan closer than he’s ever been. Sometimes when he’s quiet I think he knows my secrets. All of mine. Even my curiosity about him. “I don’t doubt that.” 

At least he tries to be nice to me sometimes. It’s more than anyone else here can say. Except maybe Genya. “You don’t have to say that.” He knows it’s true. “Keep in mind you found me in the library, hiding from Baghra.” 

He hesitates. “No one likes training.”

“I think I’d find it tolerable if…” Can I say this to him? Admit the extent of my helplessness? He looks at me patiently, waiting for me to give something to him. “I’m the Sun Summoner--that’s supposed to be me. That’s supposed to be mine, and I can’t do it by myself.” 

The patheticness of my struggle hits me in full force. I drop my head as he weighs my words. “It’s in you,” he says it so surely I don’t think I could argue. 

I smile politely. “Thank you.” 

Kirigan reaches downwards, towards my wrist. He latches onto me so quickly I’m too surprised to back away. “Light,” he prompts like it really is that easy. 

I know I can do it with him, so I don’t see the point in showing it. “It doesn’t count if I get help.” 

“Y/n.” Sometimes I think his voice is softer when he speaks my name. 

I raise my hands, overlaying them, letting the hand that he touches make up the base of my cup. Reaching into myself, I search for the power beneath my skin. With him, that power seems to sit directly beneath the surface, desperate and greedy. I don’t call to it, instead I simply let it flow. The light bleeds from me, a sphere of blinding light bursts into my hands. It’s bright, burning, and desperate to escape my control. 

My mind clamps around the power tightly, restraining it without choking it out until the light in my hands is exactly as small as I want it to be. I hold it there, letting its warmth melt away all of the bad. I let it grow, the light illuminating a path I can barely see--a path in which I do not disappoint those that need to have faith in something and for some unknown reason decided to place it in me. I hold onto that feeling, and then I let the light disappear. 

I smile at my hands. The only good that’s come from this is the way the light makes me feel. “Y/n.” I look up at Kirigan, who’s showing me both of his palms. “That was you.” 

A feeling better than the light coils up my stomach and into my heart. I grin. I did it without him. I can do it without him. “That--how did you know that would work?” 

“I knew that you could do it, you just needed to see it.” 

Warmth fills me, light and easy. A little too light. I have to work at not reaching for him, not because I need to, but because I want to. “Thank you.” This time I mean it.

“Your gratitude is premature,” he warns, but nothing about it is harsh, “I’m here to send you back to training.” 

At least the thought of facing Baghra no longer devastates me. “There’s always a catch.” I smile, hoping he understands what he’s done for me. “But I think this time it may be worth it.” 

He almost smiles. “Tell me if you still feel that way after spending time with Baghra.” 

A fair warning. It’s more than I expect from him. “Will do.” 

Kirigan’s expression threatens to soften, but he turns away from me with a soft nod before I can try to decipher the look. I let him leave before disappearing down another hall, forcing myself to look for Baghra. I think of my interaction with both Kirigan and the stranger, at least Baghra won’t be the weirdest part of my day

#six of crow #six of crows x reader #soc #soc imagine #six of crows fic #six of crows netflix #six of crows imagine #kaz brekker #kaz brekker x reader #kaz brekker imagine #kaz brekker x you #the Grishaverse #grisha #grishaverse x reader #grishaverse imagines #grishaverse imagine #grisha!reader #shadow and bone #shadow and bone fic #shadow and bone fanfic #shadow and bone imagine #shadow and bone x reader #general kirigan x reader #general kirigan imagine #general kirigan #aleksander morozova #aleksander morozova imagine #aleksander morovoza #aleksander morozova x reader #the darkling

[ethanesimp]

WHEN YOU’RE GONE // D.D.

Pairing: Mob Boss! Damiano David x Mob GN! Reader (it was originally written with a fem! reader so please let me know if you spot any slip ups on my part)

Summary: Soulmates are already a difficult concept to grasp and things don’t seem to get any easier when you like a person who already has a soulmate.

Word Count: 9.8k (it’s so long lakjd)

Warnings: Swearing, death and mentions of it, injuries, angst -lots of it-, it’s a mob fic so violence, smoking, Damiano being kind of an asshole? Me probably using swear words in italian wrong... Just read with caution pls

Masterlist // Taglist link in bio

A/N: If you’ve seen this before, it’s probably because this has been written and posted on my other blog @pparkersbitch as a Tom Holland fanfiction at the beginning of the year (which has now been deleted). It’s the same person and I’m not stealing anyone’s work :) I just like it and wanted to bring it back. I did add/modify some tiny details though. The idea is probably dumb, but I’m sharing anyways.

Taglist: @gretavanfleetlove​ @superchrystaldrug​ @reputationdamiano​​

“This isn’t how I wanted to start my morning,” Your best friend mumbled in a tired voice. You could barely hear him from where you were standing over the sounds the old -and surely broken- coffee machine kept making and the music playing from his phone.

“Well, sucks to be us, huh?” You chuckled and poured coffee on both of your cups as you did a small dance to try and shake the tiredness off your body. You handed Damiano his cup after preparing his coffee the way he liked it, a teaspoon of sugar with a splash of milk, and walked with him to the large office down the hall, “I don’t get why Ethan and Thomas can’t do this instead of us.”

The room was always cold and you seemed to forget about it most of the time since it still slipped your mind to wear a sweater or hoodie over your thin pajama shirt. You grabbed one of the blankets from the small black couch on the corner of the room and wrapped it around your body as best as you could with your free hand. 

You sat down on the chair next to him to have a better look at all the papers and files he had spread out on the desk, “What exactly are we looking for?” You asked with furrowed eyebrows. All those documents were enough to keep you occupied for the whole day if you didn’t work fast enough.

“We are looking for any leads to the drug cartel or its leader. Really anything that can help us find them,” Damiano explained and took a sip of his coffee as he opened the first file. 

You had been trying to track a drug cartel ever since they infiltrated your warehouse and stole some of your products. Damiano’s father had been at both of your necks ever since it happened as if it had been your fault instead of the incompetent guards that were supposed to be guarding the entrance at all times, “I’m sure these are people we’ve made deals with in the past, they wouldn’t have been able to break in otherwise. We’ve always been far too careful for this to be a mere coincidence.”

He removed the gold ring from his ring finger and left it on the jewelry bowl you had placed on his desk. You had known Damiano David and his family for years. For as long as you had known him, the band on his ring finger had been gold, and you hated it. 

That stupid little gold band was a silent reminder that he had met his soulmate and there was nothing to be done about it. For months you had silently hoped and prayed for Damiano to be your soulmate, but any illusion or wish you had of it happening, had vanished the moment you saw the gold ring on his finger for the first time. You later discovered he avoided wearing it on his hand because it put his soulmate at risk of being found, but he still kept it close to him at all times by using it as a necklace.

You avoided wearing yours for an entirely different reason. The black ring and all the stares and words of pity that came with it were saddening and something you didn’t need. While gold was a reminder of love and good luck, black was a reminder that your soulmate was no longer alive and you were doomed to spend the rest of your life alone. You were sure the band had been black for most of your life, or at least that’s how you remembered it.

It was safe to say you were jealous of Damiano’s soulmate, Marlee. Not only was she one of the most beautiful women you had ever met, but she got to have perhaps the most amazing man by her side until her dying day, something you could never have in any way that wasn’t platonic.

You successfully ignored it most days, which wasn’t so hard to do since you had better things to think about most of the time, but nights were always the hardest. In your loud and chaotic life, there was a speck in time where everything quieted and calmed down. During those few hours was when you’d break down and grieve for the person whose name you didn’t even get to know. You’d cry for being stupid enough to fall for someone who wasn’t only your best friend, but who also had a girlfriend.

“Damiano, Y/N?” Marlee’s sweet voice interrupted your train of thoughts. You had been reading the files consciously enough to notice anything unusual, but you had paid no mind to anything else until she walked into the room. You smiled politely at her and waved. 

She walked up to Damiano and he immediately closed all files with any sort of photo that might be too graphic for her to look at. Marlee cupped his face and pressed her lips to his for a few moments that felt like an eternity to you, watching everything from the side as a feeling of jealousy invaded your senses. You did nothing but look at the painting on the wall until they stopped locking lips, which took a bit longer than you would’ve liked.

“Did you two find anything?” Marlee asked once she pulled away from Damiano. He gave her a look you knew as ‘I cannot tell you anything about the mob to keep you safe’. She had been involved with the mob’s administration for most of her life, only after she met Damiano and her father united his mob with Damiano’s did she stop working. 

You had been brought in as a replacement of sorts once Marlee stopped doing any mob business per Damiano’s request. His parents had saved yours from a legal accident, which left you in debt with his family, so you didn’t have much say on whether you’d join the mob or not. 

Something you were grateful for was that Damiano always kept your hands clean. No matter what business it was, he made sure to keep you out of any sort of situation in which you’d have to hurt or get hurt by another member of the mob. Most people that worked for Damiano didn’t have the pleasure of knowing him as the lenient and caring individual he was around you.

You excused yourself after spending a few more minutes flipping through the files in search of something but ultimately found nothing. It was supposed to be your free day, or at least that was what Damiano had promised. Apart from that impromptu search for information at 5 am, he promised he’d have Ethan, Vic, or Thomas help with anything he needed. 

That was why you took the liberty to lock yourself inside your room and put your phone on silent. You desperately wanted to catch up on all the hours of sleep you had lost in between those early morning duty calls and coffee runs. No matter how much you enjoyed spending time with Damiano, you still missed your normal sleep schedule.

-

When you woke up a few hours later, the house was completely silent. The usual chatter coming from the kitchen wasn’t there, neither was the noise of Vic repeatedly firing bullets at the targets in the garden to practice her aim like she did every morning or the soft sound of Thomas softly strumming his guitar as he tried to piece an unplanned melody together with the assistance of Ethan’s drumming.

It wasn’t a Sunday, which meant they weren’t away visiting their families. They were all supposed to be home. That last thought made you nervous and you couldn’t help but wonder if something had happened while you were asleep. Being in the mob, you knew a lot of unexpected things happened all the time and you had to be prepared for them all.

You walked to the door, determined to investigate what was wrong. Your hand was already firmly grasping the doorknob and you were about to undo the lock when someone knocked harshly on the door, startling you. 

Without hesitation, you jumped back and reached for the gun stuffed in one of the drawers nearby, “Y/N? You awake?” 

You let go of the drawer’s handle and your tense body relaxed at the sound of Victoria’s raspy voice, “Fuck, Vic, you scared me,” You spoke as you opened the door to be met with her panicked blue eyes. Your eyebrows furrowed at her worried expression, but before you could ask, she grabbed you by the arm softly and dragged you out of the room.

Once you were in the hallway, you finally heard everything with a lot more clarity. The faint sound of glass clinking before falling to the floor, Thomas’s exasperated shouts, and Damiano’s complaints. You looked at Victoria, expecting an explanation.

“I don’t know what happened,” She began, “One second he was alright, then at like 9 AM Ethan and I heard them fighting. She’s gone and Damiano’s locked in his room, won’t let anyone in. Thomas is trying to get him to talk while Ethan looks for the keys.”

You walked past Victoria and ran up the stairs. Damiano’s room was right above yours. Upon walking up to the third floor of the house, you saw Thomas repeatedly knocking on Damiano’s door. Once he heard footsteps and spotted you, it was like relief washed all over him at the sight of you.

“Do you mind trying?” He asked, “He’s been asking for you,” Thomas added with a sigh as he brushed his messy hair out of his forehead. You nodded and got closer to the door once he got out of the way.

With hesitation, you knocked on the door and patiently waited for a response, which arrived only after you knocked once again, “Vaffanculo, Thomas! Which part of your tiny fucking brain cannot understand that I want to be left alone?”

You flinched at his words and took a long breath as you gathered the confidence to speak up, “I-It’s Y/N, Dami,” You said, loud enough for him to hear you from where he was. You were expecting rejection; if Damiano didn’t want to talk to people who were as close to him as siblings, why would he talk to you? Sure, you were one of his best friends, but he’d known Thomas for longer than he—

Your thoughts were interrupted when Damiano opened the door and quickly dragged you in before slamming it shut once more. For the first few minutes, you stood in silence while Damiano faced the door. You couldn’t see his face or his eyes, so you had no idea what could be going through his mind, so you focused on your surroundings instead. 

The room was a mess, but not more than it usually was. What alarmed you was the shattered glass on the floor as well as the drops of blood that stained the white floor. You looked back at your best friend and noticed that it was dripping from his hand. 

“Damiano,” You called, “Amore, your hand,” He turned to look at you and that’s when you finally saw his red and swollen eyes as well his tear-stained cheeks. His gaze softened once his eyes fell on yours. He choked back a sob and turned away from you once again.

If his hand hadn’t been bleeding, you wouldn’t have hesitated on wrapping your arms around his neck and trying to comfort him. Instead, you ran to his bathroom to grab the first-aid kit. After years of being in the business, treating Damiano’s cuts and injuries wasn’t anything new to you, but you were oblivious as to why he was in such a state in the first place.

Being the person he was, Damiano had learned to conceal his emotions incredibly well to protect himself, even around the people he trusted the most. You had only seen him that shaken once when something had gone terribly wrong. The fact that Marlee was gone too only gave you a worse feeling. The fact that her clothes were all gone from the closet didn’t ease your worried mind either.

Damiano was sitting on the bed patiently waiting for you to return. Once you did, he avoided your gaze and said nothing as you examined his hand. The cuts were all superficial and would surely cure on their own in a few days, which was why you only focused on removing the tiny shards of glass that had stuck to his skin with a pair of tweezers.

Once that was done and you had cleaned the cuts, you wrapped a bandage around his hand once and secured it with a small piece of tape. You sat in silence for a while, you didn’t comment on the sobs that would escape his lips every once in a while or the tears that had started falling down his cheeks.

Instead, you waited until he was ready to say something, “I don’t even know how to tell you this,” Damiano mumbled. His eyes stayed glued to the floor. He seemed… embarrassed to look you in the eye.

“I was finally going to do it this morning, N/N,” He said as a sigh escaped past his lips and he took a small velvet box out of his pocket. He didn’t have to say what was inside the box because you knew exactly what it was. Damiano had been planning on proposing for months, but there was always something that managed to get in the way of completing his goal.

“She went to the bathroom and had left her phone on my bedside table. I was going to get the ring and Y/N… I-I swear to God I didn’t want to look but the messages kept coming, one after the other, the fucking phone wouldn’t stop making noise. Cazzo, she was the one feeding information to the drug cartel and Lord knows to who else,” He said those words in one breath and you had barely been able to catch them all. Damiano threw the box at the wall angrily and from the noise, you didn’t doubt there’d be an indent there.

“I asked her about it and you have no idea how much I wished she’d deny it, but she didn’t even try,” Damiano cried. Unexpectedly, Damiano turned his body around to face yours and wrapped his arms around your waist while he buried his face on your neck.

It took you by surprise, but you said nothing. Instead, you focused on rubbing circles on his back and whispering soothing words into his ear. Part of you knew there was something else going on, even if you didn’t ask. You hadn’t seen Damiano cry in a long time and even then you saw nothing more than just a few tears rolling down his cheeks. What happened with Marlee had truly driven him right to the edge and he couldn’t keep in everything he had been trying so hard to hide.

-

In the four months that followed, you didn’t see Marlee once. She never had the guts to return after Damiano found out about everything she had been doing behind his back. At first, he had been utterly destroyed by her absence, it pained you to see him shut everything and everyone out with the lame excuse that he had work to do. Every single time he did so, you’d quietly sit down and help him despite his complaints. 

He got better though. Once enough time passed, he healed, but all that love he had once felt for her was now nothing more than pure hatred every single time her name was mentioned. You knew better than anyone that it wasn’t the healthiest thing to do, but it didn’t matter how many times you told him so because it never truly changed much.

As for the mob, things seemed to calm down once Damiano and Ethan were able to track down the leader of the drug cartel and get the stolen products back. Everything was too good and too quiet. While your four friends enjoyed all that peace, you couldn’t help but worry about something being wrong. It was a silly thing anyway, there was nothing that gave you even the slightest confirmation that your worry wasn’t just fueled by paranoia, not a single thing.

You should’ve been grateful instead. Your sleep schedule had gotten acceptably regular and there was no more working from 5 am to 10 pm every single day. You also had time to finally sit down and read the books that had been sitting on your untouched shelf ever since the start of the year, just like you were doing at that very moment while the boys were playing poker in the basement and Vic was on a date.

Damiano walked into your room eventually, still smelling like the cigarette he had just been smoking minutes back. He couldn’t help but scrunch up his nose as the smell of lemon incense burning hit his nostrils.

You looked up and giggled at his disgusted expression, “You cannot be disgusted when you were the one who walked into my room smelling like cigar and beer,” Damiano rolled his eyes and plopped down on the bed next to you.

“Incense is bad for you,” You shot Damiano a killer look and closed your book. He gave you a funny look back and then put his attention on your book, “What are you reading anyway?”

You hummed and showed him the cover. It had a beautiful yet simple design, which accurately represented the story hidden in between those pages, “Okay so, it’s the story of these people that all get invited to this island. They’re all summoned there for different reasons but it turns out they all have this common enemy. It’s terrifying because they get killed off one by one when a children’s lullaby plays. I truly cannot explain it enough to do justice to how intense this book is.”

“Oh and before that I got to read the most wonderful romance book! It was apparently the first book written where soulmates weren’t a thing and it was just a piece of art. Beautifully written, made me cry for hours too.”

Damiano smiled and you could almost see all the gears turning inside his brain, “Wouldn’t it be amazing?”

“What would?”

He shrugged and propped himself up on his elbows to get a better look at you, “A world without soulmates, where you’re not bound to someone since birth.”

You sighed and turned to look at him, “It’s our own fault… being bound, I mean. No angel from the heavens came down to tell us we have to love our soulmate as anything more than a close friend, you know? It can be purely platonic, we’re just stupid.”

“Were you ever able to fall in love with your soulmate or was it just platonic?” Damiano asked. You never talked much about soulmates with him. He still didn’t know your soulmate had been dead for as long as you could remember.

“I never got to know them,” You smiled sadly and showed him the black ring you had gotten used to wearing around your neck, carefully tucked under your shirt to stay unseen. His mouth fell open as he grabbed the ring and inspected it closely. It was the first time he had seen a black ring.

“I didn’t know… I’m sorry,” Damiano let the ring go. You shrugged and waved your hand to silently show it wasn’t too important, “I thought you guys were separated or something.”

You shook your head, “Mom says the ring turned black when I was six, but I don’t really remember so I just like to pretend I never had one in the first place… I don’t know.”

There was a question on the tip of your tongue, but you didn’t want to ask it, as intrigued as you were to know the answer. You hadn’t talked about her ever since she left and he’d most likely avoid the question because he truly wanted to keep her name out of his mouth. Nonetheless, he noticed your hesitance because you suddenly got too silent. 

“You can ask, you know? I know I just touched on a sensitive topic, so…” You nodded. Both of you were lying on your backs, looking up at the ceiling which had some of those glow-in-the-dark stars and planets you had glued when you first moved in to feel less lonely.

You hummed softly as you tried to find the right words. You didn’t want to be too straightforward with your question in fear of upsetting your best friend even though he had asked you the same question minutes earlier, “Did-did you ever… you know, fall in love with her?” 

Damiano thought about it in silence, you had probably caught him off-guard with your question, “No, not really. Not in the way I was expecting at least. You know truth be told, I was a bit disappointed. Don’t get me wrong, she had this angelic look to her, she was a stunning girl. I just- there was nothing we had in common other than being soulmates. For years I had seen my parents act like they shared one mind and just thought the same things. I always imagined it’d be like that for me too.

“My expectations couldn’t have been further from what it truly was like. Honestly, I’m not even sure which part of our relationship was true anymore. Now that I look back on it, I’ve realized most of the things she did or said were just to get information out of me.” 

It was weird to hear him say all that. As a person who always got to look at the way Marlee and Damiano interacted with one another, you would’ve never expected Damiano to feel that way, “And,” He continued, “I was expecting it to be someone else.”

His last confession made you turn around to look at him. It was the first time he had admitted that, probably because of the beer he had been drinking while playing with his friends.

“I know it sounds terrible but… I met her and this other person on the same day, almost at the same time. I didn’t notice my ring had turned gold until much later. I had only been with them both and people I already knew. I thought it had been the other person until she told me her ring had changed too. Meanwhile, the other one said nothing. Now I realize it would’ve been impossible for them to be my soulmate.”

It might’ve been because he was telling you all those things and you felt safe to admit what you felt, or maybe because you were tired of bottling it up for so long. Either way, you spoke up, not caring if you’d regret it later, “It’s not as terrible as you might think.”

“Look, I’m not bound to anyone. The black ring gives me the freedom of loving someone else. I never met my soulmate so there’s no guilt in being with someone else. It’s supposed to be a perfect thing, Dami, only it isn’t. I know a lot of people who’re also blacksouled,” You hated using the word. It was usually how people would refer to those who didn’t have a soulmate anymore, “And I fell in love.”

“T-that’s great!” Damiano replied, “Why didn’t you tell me? I mean, not like you’re obliged to tell me anything just because we’re friends but I-”

You interrupted his rant, “I fell in love with someone whose soulmate’s still alive.”

“So what? You said it yourself. Are they together?” He asked. You told him they weren’t. If only he knew you were talking about him… He’d probably run away and never speak to you again, “Then fuck it. Fuck the rules and everything else society has to say.”

“It’s not that simple, Dami. I truly wish it was, but it isn’t,” You wanted nothing more than for the conversation to be over. If it went any further, you knew you’d spill every single thing. It had gotten far too hard to conceal your feelings when you were close to him. Now that you were talking about them, it’d be even harder.

You got up and walked to your bookshelf, where you started accommodating your books as an excuse to avoid being so close to him, to avoid his curious gaze. Even if they weren’t together anymore, you knew Damiano would reject you, that was far too obvious. Even if he felt the same, after what happened, it’d take Damiano a lot of effort to ever trust someone in such an intimate way, even if that someone was you, his best friend.

“Why? It is that simple. If they’re not together, what’s stopping you? You’ll never know what could happen if you don’t try,” You turned around to look at him, fists clenched by your sides, “Listen Y/N, I know you’re scared of relationships and everything they involve but you cannot let that sto—” 

“Fine then, I’m in love with you! I can barely breathe when I’m around you because my love for you is so suffocatingly strong, and I can’t think straight either! You and your stupidly handsome face drive me insane. How’s that?” You admitted, interrupting his small speech midway, too irritated to process what you had just said. Once you did, your hand flew to your mouth and you shook your head. You wanted to say it wasn’t true, no, it was nothing more than a lie to get him to stop poking his nose into your love life. Except it wasn’t and, if you were being honest, no part of you wanted to hide it anymore.

Just like you expected, he said nothing. Damiano stayed silent for a few seconds before getting up and walking out without another word. He slammed the door on the way out so hard you wouldn’t be surprised if the door separated from its hinges.

For the weeks that followed, Damiano avoided you as much as possible. You were still his right-hand person and needed to be present at every meeting and would have to discuss any type of business with him. It used to be your favorite part of the day when you got to sit in the meeting room with Damiano and discuss plans to make the mob prosper, now it was nothing but uncomfortable because you’d do all the talking while he looked at you as if his biggest desire was to carve your heart out with his pocket knife. 

While you understood that he was still mad at Marlee and wanted nothing to do with her, you didn’t understand why he was treating you that way when you had nothing to do with it and weren’t to blame for the stupid shit his ex had tried to pull. You thought he knew that you loved him far too much to ever do anything to jeopardize his safety. Yet again, he might’ve assumed the same thing about Marlee.

You walked out of yet another unsuccessful meeting with Damiano and slammed the door as hard as you could to let him know how much his childish behavior annoyed you. Ethan was standing close to the door and you could see the shadow of a smile that was threatening to break out and illuminate his face, “Don’t you dare,” He raised his hands in defense and bit his lip to try and hide the smile that would just annoy you further.

“You two are starting to act like two teenagers and it’s fucking pathetic,” Thomas chimed in from where he was sitting on one of the couches.

“Yeah? Tell that to your friend who is giving me the silent treatment like a fucking toddler! I just want- I need to have a serious conversation with him,” You admitted and sighed as you fell on the couch right next to Thomas, head in your hands to try and cover up the tears that were threatening to spill down your cheeks.

Both men stayed silent as they watched you, Even though you could feel their stares, you decided to focus on not crying instead. The truth was, the longer Damiano spent ignoring you, the more you regretted telling him what you had been bottling up for years, it had been a mistake there was no coming back from. Unless he decided to stop acting like a kindergartener, things would never go back to the way they were.

It was frustrating to think that your friendship would go to shit just because of your confession. Being rejected by him wouldn’t have been a big deal if he had actually stayed in your room and spoken like the adult he was.

“For the record, I think he’s acting like an idiot because he’s scared,” Sighed Victoria, who had just walked into the room with an ice pack placed over her hand, “I know it’s been a while but, give him time. He’ll come around or I’ll make him, I promise.”

You gave Victoria a tight-lipped smile and nodded. You hoped more than anything that it wouldn’t have to come to getting locked up in the same room as Damiano to get him to speak to you.

Except… as more days passed, you feared it would most likely have to be that way because he was still saying nothing to you. He had only spoken once and it had been to call you out for being doing everything wrong while looking through some important documents when you were, in fact, doing everything just like he had initially requested. Now, not only had he been giving you the cold shoulder, but he had started acting like a complete jerk around you too.

You tried to distract yourself by focusing on all the work you had pending, but it wasn’t working. Every single day, no matter what you were doing, your mind still wandered back to the brown-eyed man and his stupid face, his stupid hair, and stupid smile.

Even as you stood in the middle of the kitchen, your thoughts made it difficult to bake the cookies you had been craving all week. You had started to work on the second batch after the first one came out disgustingly salty because somewhere along the process you had mistaken the salt for the sugar.  

You hated how bothered you were by the whole situation. It had affected you way more than you would’ve liked to admit. Truth be told, you had never felt sad about his rejection because it was something you had expected ever since that attraction for him first settled on your brain. It was the way he was treating you that got on your nerves. 

That was mainly the reason why you were so thankful for being alone in the house at that very moment. Apart from a few security guards here and there, you were completely alone. You allowed yourself to relax for a split second and connected your phone to the speaker system in the kitchen. You started playing one of your favorite playlists before getting back to making cookies the right way this time.

You softly swayed your body along to the music as you dumped all the ingredients on the large bowl in front of you. As you poured the flour in the bowl and mixed it with your hands, you noticed Damiano standing by the door. For some unknown reason, he scared you so bad you accidentally tipped the bowl and made a mess of the counter. 

A frustrated sigh escaped past your lips and you threw your head back, feeling defeated and irritated, “I’m sorry,” Damiano spoke up hesitantly, “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

You shook your head and wiped your hands on the apron you had tied around your waist, “It’s fine,” You turned around so your back was to him and started wiping the counter with a damp towel. 

“You deserve so much better…” You heard him speak up over the music. His words caught you by surprise. You turned around to look at him but said nothing. You could tell he was nervous by the way his hands trembled by his sides and the way his jaw was firmly clenched.

After a few minutes of hesitation, Damiano started walking to where you were. He placed his hands on the counter by your sides, leaving you trapped in between the counter and his body. You looked into his dark eyes to maybe try and guess what was going through his mind. 

You breathed in so deeply your chest hit his. You gulped at that and tried to control your trembling hands without looking away.

“What you said the other day, did you mean it?” Damiano asked, without hesitation this time around. Your eyes widened.

“I-I… What?”

“Just answer me Y/N, please,” Damiano pleaded. He looked so desperate to know the answer, which only made your blood boil. After weeks of silence, of glares and being a jerk, he dared to just show up and demand answers?

You shook your head and pointed your finger at his chest, “How dare you?” You took a step towards him, which made Damiano take a step back, “You have no right to show up like this and ask me to give you answers after how much of an asshole you’ve been.”

He seemed taken aback by your truthful words, but you didn’t care. If he wanted to know how much truth had been behind your words that night, he’d have to hear it all, “You know I’m your best friend and you also know I’d keep up with anything you do because that’s how much I care about you, but can you stop it? I know I was stupid for telling you because of what you just went through and I’m sorry, but please don’t keep giving me the cold shoulder. I just want to fix this.”

After a few minutes of silence, you shrugged and, like it was the simplest thing in the world, spoke up, “And yeah, I meant every word.”

Your expression softened as you waited for any sort of reaction from Damiano. You expected something similar to what had happened the day you first told him. No part of you expected him to cup your face with his warm, calloused palms to bring your face closer to him once again. 

Neither did you expect to feel his soft lips pressed against yours, or the feeling of his soft hair as you brushed it back with your fingers and your eyes slowly closing as you basked on the joy and pleasure his soft touches caused.

Damiano was gentle as he held your face in between his hands, almost as if you were made of glass and he was afraid of breaking you into pieces if he didn’t hold you delicately enough. That kiss felt so intimate, like nothing you had ever felt before. Everything from the way he held you to his slow movements and touches was so much better than you could’ve ever imagined.

When he pulled away, he left you completely breathless, wordless. There was nothing you could possibly say after the way he had kissed you, so you waited for him to find the right words instead.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N,” Damiano mumbled. He still hadn’t let go of your face, “You truly deserve better. You are so beautiful, so perfect. I’m so sorry for being such an idiot and hurting you, ignoring you. I just- I know I cannot love you as you deserve. Believe me, I want nothing more than to have you close to me all the time, to kiss your lips until you grow sick of me, but I can’t,” His voice was starting to crack as he said those words to you and you knew it was because of how he saw your face fall.

“No, no, shut up and listen to me,” You pleaded and placed your hands on top of his. You gave them a soft squeeze and let your forehead rest against his, “I know it’s hard for you to trust after what happened with her and I know it’s not going to be easy, but believe me, I’m willing to try if you are, Damiano.”

“You were that other person,” He confessed and got closer to kiss you once more, with as much passion as the last time. You were too concentrated on the smell of his musky cologne and the faint taste of vanilla chapstick he had surely stolen from your room to respond to his comment.

His hands fell from your face and comfortably rested on your hips as his lips attacked yours. Damiano pushed you against the counter and kept savoring the moment as if it were the first and last time he’d kiss you like that. You hoped for your sake it wouldn’t be the last.

Damiano pulled away reluctantly and unexpectedly lifted you up so you’d sit on the counter. He stood in between your legs and intertwined his fingers with yours.

“Remember when I told you about the person I met the day I met Marlee?” You nodded, “That was you... Ever since I met you I’ve felt this inexplicable attraction towards you and it’s been driving me insane. I couldn’t believe it when you told me you loved me because I’ve done nothing to deserve it.”

“You’ve done so much to deserve it, so so much,” You mumbled and brought him close to you to kiss him for the third time. It was such an addicting feeling and both your heart and mind were screaming to feel it again.

That time around, Damiano didn’t hesitate to lift you up once more, he carried you to his room and locked the door.

— 

It had been a few weeks since your conversation in the kitchen. Things returned back to normal after that night. Other than your relationship with Damiano, things were the same again. You had to go back to working at ungodly hours of the morning thanks to some suspicious activity Ethan had noticed. Apparently, one of the oldest members of Damiano’s mob had tried to establish a deal with an unknown subject but had been caught before he could accomplish it. 

This put you both on edge because there was someone out there desperate to break into the mob and finish it for good. At first, you thought it wasn’t more serious than whatever had happened with Marlee, but Damiano’s father proved you wrong the moment he brought you, their most loyal employee, in for questioning. 

It had been nothing too serious, at least not in comparison to what you had heard others say. In your case, it had been done mostly as a standardized protocol, to stop others from thinking there was some sort of preference or special treatment towards you just because you worked so close to Damiano. You knew almost everything Damiano did, so you were possibly the greatest source of information outside the David family and their small circle of friends.

“Amore?” Damiano asked softly as his hand caressed the exposed skin of your waist. You had been cuddling in bed for almost two hours with the excuse that you needed a break after all the hard work you’d done, “What’s going on in that head of yours?”

You turned around to be face to face with him and pressed a kiss to his freckled nose, “Not much. I was just remembering I need to get my ring resized again. I tried putting it on a few days ago and it didn’t fit anymore.

Damiano frowned at your words, “Your soulmate ring?”

“Mhm,” You responded simply and let your head rest on his chest. You enjoyed the feeling of warmth his body irradiated, it was soothing and the soft sound of his rhythmic heartbeat never failed to make you feel calmer.

“Soulmate rings don’t need to be resized, ever. Not that I know of, at least,” Now it was your turn to frown because, as far as you remembered, you had always gone to get your ring resized by a family friend who didn’t live too far away. No one had ever told you it wasn’t necessary.

You pulled away from his embrace and reached for the bedside table where you had been keeping the ring for the past few days. Once you turned back around, Damiano looked confused and almost scared, “Just, out of curiosity, tesoro. Have you ever taken off the ring and left it like far away for longer than a few hours?”

A giggle escaped past your lips at his silly question, “It’s just a piece of jewelry, Dami. Of course, I have, several times.”

You laughed nervously once you saw his horrified expression. Damiano was starting to scare you, but you knew better than to say something because you’d end up looking like a fool if he started laughing and told you it was all a joke. Except, it didn’t seem like one.

“Please get dressed and meet me in room five, okay? I might be going insane but I just need to make sure I’m not,” Before you could ask any questions, Damiano had already grabbed a pair of pants and a t-shirt and disappeared into the bathroom to get dressed.

You tried not to think much about his weird questions and got dressed quickly instead. You grabbed your cup of tea, which had already gone cold, and walked to meeting room five.

You opened the door and were surprised to see all your friends already sitting around the small table you’d use for informal meetings. Thomas and Victoria looked tired and Ethan’s long hair was tangled and messy. That gave you the impression that Damiano had most likely woken them all up for your impromptu meeting. 

They all looked just as confused as you felt. There were a lot of questions you wanted to ask, but Ethan beat you to it, “Okay, now that we’re all here can you fucking explain why you had to wake me up? Please.”

“Have any of you three—,” Started Damiano, referring to Thomas, Victoria and Ethan, “—tried to take off your ring for a while but have started feeling sick and weird?”

Thomas and Victoria looked at each other, confused, but nodded. Ethan did after a few seconds of thinking about it, “Yeah, there was actually this one time I went on a date and I didn’t want the girl to see the ring had turned gold, so I left it at home. Thirty minutes later I was puking everywhere. I didn’t really understand why but someone at the Soulmate Centre explained rings are an extension of the soul and they need to be close to us at all times and there are actually records of people dying after losing their rings. Why?”

Damiano looked at you and raised his eyebrows to silently ask if he could share the information with the other three guys. Once you nodded, Damiano spoke up, “Y/N doesn’t need to have it close to them and they need to get it resized every once in a while.”

Ethan shrugged his shoulders, “That’s as far as my knowledge goes. I don’t know. I think the best thing you can do is go to the SC.”

You sighed but nodded. Ethan’s explanation had started to freak you out. What if there was something terribly wrong with you? What if you were born without a ring and your parents lied to you all your life?

— 

After having a short conversation with Damiano in private, you decided to follow Ethan’s advice and go to the Soulmate Centre that was only a few minutes away from your house. He wanted to go with you or send someone to watch over you but had accepted your petition to go alone after you told him it was a private matter and you'd tell him all about it once you got back.

So there you were, on the reception of the SC, with your sweaty hands intertwined together as you tried to ignore all the dirty looks people were giving you. Everyone around knew exactly who you were and most weren't one bit pleased to see you there. While some didn't hesitate to look at you like they wanted to kill you, others were afraid to do so.

Those few minutes that passed until the lady at the desk called your name were some of the most uncomfortable of your life. Some part of you hated having the mobster title because that usually gave people the wrong idea and drove them to hate you even if you could proudly say you had done nothing illegal or violent in your whole life. You had to admit the mob wasn’t an ideal job to have morally wise, but you had found a family inside those four walls others doomed to be cursed.

You walked up to the lady. She had what you could interpret as a nervous smile as she stood behind the desk, patiently waiting for you to tell her what had brought you there in the first place. You were hesitant to communicate your issue because you were mortified of finding out a truth that should probably stay hidden.

You reached back and unclasped the chain the ring was looped through. You left it on the counter and smiled softly as you shyly spoke, “So uh, good morning, ma’am. I was hoping you could take a look at my ring, I’m slightly concerned there was something wrong with it.”

The lady nodded and removed the ring from the chain. She inspected it closely for a few minutes before nodding her head towards one of the rooms that said ‘only employees allowed’. She started walking towards it with a quick step and you saw no other choice but to follow right behind her.

She opened the door and quickly closed it with a lock once she verified you were inside, “Listen, the only reason I’m not turning you over to the authorities is because you don’t strike me as someone stupid enough to walk into an SC with a soulmate ring like this.”

Your jaw dropped in surprise at how direct she was being. For a second, you noticed her face fall before she realized it was best to keep a face that communicated seriousness instead of begging for your forgiveness or whatever people did when they pissed Damiano off.

“I don’t know who gave this to you or in which illegal market you bought this but if a higher authority sees you with this, not even Damiano David could save you from the consequences of sporting a fake ring,” She said. You honestly didn’t know how to respond because panic had started to drown out any coherent thought that tried to form on your mind.

You didn’t even try to disguise your panicked expression that time around. Instead, you focused on regulating your breathing and trying to keep all your emotions at bay before you lost control and began to hyperventilate. The other woman noticed your distress almost immediately and led you to sit down on one of the couches.

After you took a few deep breaths, you looked back at her, eager to ask thousands of questions, “How can you know they are fake?”

She sat down next to you and put the ring on your palm, “Look at the inside,” She demanded while pointing her finger to a spot on the inside edge of the ring, “They usually have something engraved inside, a code that only repeats itself twice. Whenever one loses their soulmate, this code vanishes. Your code is still there. I also used a detector to confirm my suspicions and it detected nothing.”

“And with… with that code, can you tell me if my soulmate’s still alive? Or who they are?” The older lady looked at you with pity in her green eyes and shook her head.

“Unless this is the original code engraved on the real ring, there’s not much I can do for you other than telling you how your soulmate is. I need so much more information to ever give you a name,” You nodded in understanding. All you needed to know was if they were alive, that’s all you wanted.

She took your nod as a sign of approval and disappeared into another room. While you waited, you couldn’t help but secretly hope they were dead. You wanted all those weeks of bliss you had spent with Damiano to last a lifetime. He knew everything about you, from the number of scars scattered around your body to what book you had read the most times. No soulmate could learn that about you until years after meeting each other. Besides, it wouldn’t feel right. The Gods had already been too cruel for not making him your soulmate, but now that he wasn’t with Marlee and you knew he loved you just as much as you loved him… 

She walked out of the room and cleared her throat to catch your attention. You were thankful for her interruption because you were mere seconds away from bursting into tears of distress. She looked nervous to tell you what she had found out, but the way you looked at her made her spill the truth without any warning.

“Your soulmate is still somewhere out there, alive.”

— 

Damiano clutched his side with his hands as every type of curse word spilled from his mouth, “Thomas! Dammit Thomas, where the fuck are you?” He screamed and pushed the ache in his throat and side to the back of his mind as he limped towards the table where his loaded gun was placed, ready to be grabbed and shot. 

Things had been perfectly fine just ten minutes back. He had been drinking and playing pool with the boys in the basement. They were all laughing and messing around when Victoria heard the first gunshot. Thomas had been quick to dismiss it as one of the guards practicing his accuracy like they did every once in a while, so they went back to playing the game.

Then they heard it again and again and again. In that time it took the four men to walk up the stairs, people had already successfully broken into the house and they were shooting at anything that moved. The blood-red snake symbol all these people had on the masks that were covering their faces was one he had grown far too familiar with. These were the people Marlee had been conspiring with and they had managed to overthrow every single line of defense in between them and the front door.

Damiano had been in his room fetching a gun when a smoke bomb was thrown into the room. It had stopped him from seeing the person who shot him. Thankfully enough, their vision wasn’t much better either, because the bullet only grazed his side. It was still painful as hell and blood was pouring out of the wound, but it wasn’t going to be anything deadly. 

He finally got ahold of his gun after minutes of feeling around the table to try and spot it with the low amount of vision he still had. Once Damiano had it in his hands, he raised the scarf he was wearing to cover the lower part of his face to try and lower the quantity of smoke he inhaled.

He walked out of his room and into the hallway, still holding the gun firmly ready to shoot it at the first person he saw with that red symbol. Damiano opened the door to every room on the third floor. He had to shoot at one or two people before walking down to the floor below. The first room he opened was yours. His eyes went wide as he remembered you were still supposed to be at the SC. Damiano cursed under his breath. He needed to warn you not to come back but to go to your parents’ instead. Damiano opened the tracking app first, a precaution he had been insistent on taking just to make sure you both knew the other was safe. 

“Fucking hell,” Damiano mumbled as he saw that blue dot with your name above it was right on the same spot as his. You were back home.

Every thought of investigating each and every room to make sure there was no intruder flew out the window and instead he focused on trying to find you. Everything had turned chaotic on those few minutes he had been in your room, which was why it had gotten harder to get around without finding someone waiting on almost every corner for him to appear.

Damiano heard a piercing scream that made his blood go cold. You were in danger somewhere inside the large home and he desperately needed to get to you, to make sure you were safe from any danger. He knew his friends would be perfectly fine, they had their guns and several types of weaponry close-by, but he knew you didn’t. You always refused to take a gun or dagger with you whenever you went out and if they had caught you right when you had just gotten back… you’d most likely have nothing to defend yourself with.

There was no doubt in his mind that you were witty and incredibly smart, not to mention agile and great at coming up with plans on the spot, but he still needed to make sure you were alright. 

He got down on the first floor and his eyes met with a pair of blue ones he knew far too well. He let his eyes trail down to her carmine-tinted shirt. Marlee smiled at him and trailed her thumb along her jawline. That’s when he noticed her hands were also red and she had also left a trail of bloody footsteps from his office to where she was standing. His office.

Damiano didn’t hesitate to point the gun at her leg and pull the trigger. He then aimed for her other leg and shot it. She fell to the floor as an agonizing scream fell from her parted lips. Damiano was satisfied now that her stupid smile had been wiped right off her face.

He quickly ran to the office and opened the door. What he saw inside made time stop. It made all those sounds go silent. It made him feel like there was no floor beneath him to stand on. You were lying on the floor, a dagger piercing your chest.

You looked panicked, sad, like you wanted to do nothing but scream and cry, which you had started doing the moment you saw Damiano walked into the room. He didn’t know if your reaction was out of relief or if there was something else that concerned you, apart from the obvious.

“Damiano,” You spoke up weakly, The sound of your raspy voice was like a slap back into reality. He didn’t waste a second to fall to his knees right by your side. Damiano cupped your face with his trembling hands and brushed your cheek with his thumb.

“Shh. I’m here amore, I’m here,” He responded voice barely above a whisper, “I just need to find something to press against this wound I— something…” He stood up, ready to look for a rag, bandages, anything to stop the blood from rushing out of your body so quickly, but you stopped him.

You wrapped your hand around his arm and with all the strength you had brought him back down, “No hey, stop,” You mumbled, “Unless she happened to study every major artery, vein or has awfully perfect aim, I’ll be dead in minutes.”

He shook his head and wiped the tears that were starting to fall with the back of his hand. He was not giving up. Damiano was not going to let you die, “Wait, no, no. I can do this,” Damiano took his sweater and scarf off. With the help of his scarf, he applied pressure to the wound, careful not to move or dig the dagger further with his movements.

You shook your head and Damiano couldn’t help but cry harder at the desperation and panic in your eyes, “Please, Dami. Stop it, there’s no use. I-I just want you to hold me, please.”

He wiped his runny nose with the back of his hand and nodded repeatedly as he careful cradled you in his arms and moved your head to rest on his lap, “Everything’s going to be okay,” Damiano mumbled and left a long kiss on your forehead, then another one on your cheek and a last one on your lips.

You cupped his face with one of your hands and wiped the tears with your thumb. There wasn’t much left to say, not like you’d be able to talk even if you tried. Instead, you offered him one last sincere smile with all the energy you had left. 

He watched in horror as life slowly started to drain out of you as his ring simultaneously turned black. Damiano sat there for minutes after you were gone. He cried and let every frustration, confusion, and pain escape his body with a loud scream.

Damiano didn’t let go of your body until Victoria and Thomas had to forcefully pull him away and let someone else take care of you.

— 

Ethan didn’t walk into the room until he made sure every single intruder had been killed, except for Marlee, because Damiano had asked to keep her alive. When he did walk in, all he saw was Damiano with a folder in his hand and multiple pieces of paper scattered around the desk in his room. He looked pale, mortified by everything he was reading. The long-haired man didn’t understand what had gotten his friend in such a state of shock until he walked closer and looked at what seemed to be a contract.

You were Damiano’s soulmate. All your lives you had been tricked into believing you weren’t meant for each other. Your parents had made you believe you had no soulmate and Damiano had been fooled into thinking Marlee was his. You had gotten right to the bottom of it all and the secret would’ve gone to the grave with you if you hadn’t left the papers lying on his desk and if he had left his ring on the pocket of his jeans like he usually would. But now it was far too late to do anything about it.

#damiano david x reader #damiano david x y/n #damiano david x you #damiano david fanfiction #maneskin x reader #maneskin fanfiction

[aelingalathyniusrailme]

If you find me at the edge, we’ll jump together.

Gwynriel pirate au pt 8- you don’t know who I am. 

this chapters a little bit shorter because the part that’s coming next would have made it way too long. also check out the other parts.  pt 1, pt 2, pt 3, pt 4, pt 5, pt 6, pt 7

Gwyn’s eyes narrowed and Azriel swore there was venom in her gaze. If he was being perfectly honest, he was slightly turned on. 

“Alright, I’ll bite. Why do we need you?” She spat out. Her words were icy, not the passionate, flirty pirate he had come to know, but someone different. Someone new. 

Perhaps new was the wrong word, perhaps he had just peeled away another of her many layers. And perhaps, as the days of their time together grew shorter, he had become more and more interested to find who, and what lay beneath. 

His mind was an absolute atrocity. Split between the pirate captain he couldn’t rid himself of, his second with secrets and lies curved around his every word, and the fae female before him, who shared history with each of them. 

Feyre. It appeared Nesta’s sister was just as lethal as she was, but where Nesta was cruel words and brute strength, Feyre was power of a different kind. Fae. 

The first of the archeron’s was ruthless and cold while the third was as immortal as she was dangerous, with a slight superiority complex. Some morbid interest had him curious as to what the second archeron sister would be like. 

At that moment Azriel sneezed, interrupting the stare down going on between Berdara and the assassin. He looked around and found the culprit. In a vase on the a shelf was a bouquet of roses. Damn his fucking allergies. 

Gwyn turned to him and everything about her softened, amused. 

You alright? she snorted a little 

Yes I am perfectly fine thank you for asking. 

Well this is good news, the infamous pirate captain can be brought down with a simple flower. 

A wretched flower. 

“Excuse me.” Feyre seemed very agitated. “I would appreciate it if you two could stop looking at each other for one moment.” 

Azriel swore he could see Gwyn blush slightly. 

“Yes of course, our apologies, please continue.” 

“Please don’t” Gwyn mumbled for only Az to hear. His lips twitched in agreement. 

“Now you two have half of what you need but you certainly cannot acquire the huge hall with a measly half.” 

She paused for a dramatic second. “You have the map and while I’m sure that the phoenix piss worked wonders in uncovering the sigil of The Dragon. But I’m sure you know it does not actually lead you to Amren herself.” 

Gwyn and Azriel shared a look. “Oh,” Feyre frowned. “I guess you didn't know that. But you must have known that her island moves with the storm and is constantly moving and the only way to track it down is to use the compass.” 

“No, you didn’t know that either?” Feyre’s frown turned upwards in a devilish smirk. “One more piece of information I suppose you need to know. Only a pure blooded fae can use the compass.” 

“And why is that?” 

“Like calls to like, power recognizes power.”

“Someone’s quite full of herself.” 

“I simply speak the truth.” 

“Sure you do.”    

Azriel sighed, this back and forth would accomplish nothing and he had treasure to find. “How about Captain Berdara and I discuss your proposition in private?”

“What is there to discuss?” 

Azriel smiled charmingly, “Not that you aren’t delightful company, but plenty.” Out of the corner of his eye, he swore he saw Gwyn frown. 

Feyre looked him over, and then turned her gaze to Gwyn, curling her lip in disgust as she walked out the door. Her footsteps became faint and Gwyn blurted, “Absolutely fucking not.” 

Gwyn took a breath, trying to regain her composure, “I do not work with people with conflicting interests.” 

“We need her.” He was sure of it, Azriel trusted his gut instincts and his instincts were telling him she was telling the truth, or at least some form of it. Although he far from trusted her. Azriel had learned a long time ago that the only people he could regularly rely on were himself and his crew.

She swallowed, her eyes turning steel, and her gaze becoming daggers, “No.” She turned away, about to walk out the door. Her shoulders back and her chin high. Even in her moments of vulnerability she would not sacrifice her pride.

“Gwyn.” The sound of her name from his lips was enough to stop her. 

Her voice was faint, the words barely there, “What did you just say.” 

His words softened, “Gwyn.” He said again as she breathed in sharply, “I will not pretend as if I understand you even remotely.” She snorted. “But I do not believe you are the kind of person to be swayed from your goals. You go after what you want with a ferocity that could rival any. And I know you want this.” Gwyn shifted on her feet as if preparing for a fight. It was a nervous tic, he realized. “Whoever you were when you knew that woman is not who you are now.”  

“And who am I now?” 

“Infuriating, stubborn, a royal pain in my ass.” She laughed weakly. “You’re a lot of things Berdara, but you are not stupid and you know as well as I that we require her services.” 

“So what is it you said to me? Ah yes suck it up and think of the money.” 

Gwyn flexed her fingers and squared her shoulders, clearly still itching for a fight. But then she did something unexpected, her body relaxed and she exhaled slowly. “You’re right.” 

Azriel was pretty sure he was having a stroke. “I’m sorry, say that again but slower this time.” 

In a flash she had him pinned to the table with her knee pressing on his chest and a dagger to his throat. “I’ve said those words three other times in my life, every one of them ended up with their heads on the ground and their balls in the sea. Don’t make me regret it and don’t expect it again.”

He believed every word and yet the dagger was held with almost no pressure so he smirked in agreement, “Wouldn’t dream of it.” 

She got off of him and wiped her clothes, “To be clear we are going to screw over feyre archeron right?” 

“You have to ask?” 

Gwyn’s smile was one of pure insanity as she murmured, “Maybe this will be fun after all.”  

He walked to the door and opened it, standing to the side as he held out his hand mockingly, “Your majesty,” She breezed through the door without giving him so much as a glance and when they found Feyre and their combined crew, god Azriel despised this women.

Feyre was holding Cassian, a man who was double her size, by the ankles as others watched with bored expressions on their faces. Cassian was grinning like an idiot, Nesta however, looked like she was 0.2 seconds away from throwing a knife into her sister's chest. Azriel didn’t blame her. 

“Feyre, drop it.” Gwyn scolded. 

“What am I? A dog?” She growled. 

“That’s an insult to dogs.” Nesta muttered. 

Gwyn laughed but instead of continuing this useless back and forth she spoke again, “Feyre if you acquire us this compass and prove that it works as you say it does, then we will agree to your terms.” 

“Thought you might say something like that.” 

“Well?” He asked.

“Well, a certain day court event will be expecting a few more members.”

Rhysand, surprisingly, groaned, “Oh my god no.” 

Emerie questioned, “Wait what?”

“Feyre darling is taking us to the sun ball.”

Tagging: @imsointobooks @meher-sumedha @himadrij @gwynrielsupremacy @ipsa-est-lux-plenae @flora-shadowshine @allthebooksunderthemoon @valkygwyn @bookish-isha @lattristantketchup @generalnesta @brieq @sv0430  @carsonjade12523 @aelinismyreligion @gwynrielisunmatched @shisingh @sarcasticsugarcookie @feyretale (let me know if you want to be added or removed.”

#gwynriel #gwyn berdara #azriel #gwynriel pirate au #nessian #feysand #nesta archeron #feyre archeron #cassian #rhysand #emerie

[bondsmagii]

same person who asked about spelunking (sorry i binge your blog every now and then and keep finding things i wanna hear about this time!) But you mentioned one of your most terrifying experiences involved dolls, I'd love to hear about it if youre comfortable :>?

oh it's fine, don't worry! I can always appreciate a good old fashioned bit of curiosity. I suppose it's only fair that with all the creepy experiences I take from other people, I finally give a statement of my own. buckle up, though, because this one is a long one.

So, this all happened in 2011-2012, and it began in Belfast, Ireland. A friend of mine, Caoimhe, had started studying at Queen’s University, and she had moved in to student accommodation in the student district nearby. I was studying in Scotland at the time, but thankfully the summer and winter holidays provided me with three months off each, so I would frequently return back to Ireland and catch up with the people who’d stayed there. Caoimhe’s place, being situated in the city and in a university district, was obviously the place to hang out and party, but before I even arrived Caoimhe warned me that the place was… odd. Now, as anyone who’s ever met me knows, I absolutely love creepy stuff and I have a tendency to bring it out in places and in people; naturally I asked for details, but Caoimhe said she wanted to see what I thought when I got there. Considering I was going to be there that evening, I was able to have a modicum of patience.

I get there in the late afternoon. It’s summer and everything is still bright and lively, and the street looks normal. Parking is only on one side of the street; on the other side is a row of buildings, three floors high. Most of them are split into houses, but there are a few businesses there, too – a nursery school, a hairdresser’s, that kind of thing. I get out of the car and go and knock on Caoimhe’s door, which is between two businesses. She opens the door, and immediately tells me she cannot wait to hear what I think of the place. I have no idea what to expect, because Caoimhe was always the sceptical one and it takes a lot to get her even remotely excited about anything spooky, but I realised what she meant within about five minutes of being in the house.

It was the weirdest layout of any house I have ever seen.

Upon entering, I was in a small porch area. Going through the interior door brought me to the bottom of a set of stairs; to the right was a short hallway, containing a bedroom and, at the end of it, a spacious kitchen. Going up the stairs, I came to a small bathroom on the half-landing; turning and ascending the second flight brought me to a small landing area and, directly opposite, a colossal living room. Turning up yet another flight of stairs and there was a larger bathroom on the half-landing, practically industrial – like a large school changing room. There were about eight showers all lined up in cubicles, toilets lined up in other cubicles, and a row of old, almost Victorian-looking sinks. There was no door to the bathroom, either. Just an open archway leading to tiles that looked as though they should be on a factory floor in the early twentieth century. After this, there was another flight of stairs and then a small landing, this time with nothing ahead of it but, to my left, a long hallway. I mean, a long hallway. The longest hallway I’ve ever seen in any residential building, ever, in my life. It went on, and on, and on. From beginning to end, at a normal walking pace, it took about two minutes to walk. There were other doors, but they were few and far between. Only three people lived on that floor, and the hallway just stretched endlessly on. Caoimhe, of course, lived in the absolute furthest room from the stairs. We walked, passing the occasional door, under dim, flickering lightbulbs high up in the ceiling. We had long since walked past the original house we had entered. We were probably almost entirely down the street by this point. There were no windows at all.

Finally, we get to Caoimhe’s room. It’s practically at the end of the hall; in front of us is a dead end, and a fire escape that cannot exist. All of the buildings on this street are terraced, which means that joining on to this wall should be the next building. There were no alleyways separating any of the buildings at street level – they were all side by side, sharing a wall. I asked Caoimhe about it and she just shrugged, and then pointed to the wall opposite her door. There was another door there, cheaply made, not a fire door like the doors to the bedrooms. It also didn’t fit properly, leaving a small gap and a cool breeze drifting out from between the wood and the frame. I, of course, stuck my eye to the gap and peered in. I could make out nothing aside from swirling dust and the faint outline of the first few steps of another set of stairs. Upon my asking, Caoimhe told me she didn’t know where it went to, and that she and some of the others had tried to prise the door open but given up when it wouldn’t budge. They had even asked the university’s residential services about it, but were told that it didn’t belong to them as tenants and it was best to leave it alone.

As I mentioned before – Caoimhe is not really interested in messing around with this kind of stuff. Practically minded, she spent her time dealing in the tangible, and as a nursing student she had precious little free time. What free time she did have she enjoyed spending drinking, and annoying me by doing lines of cocaine off my books. I love her dearly, but you have to understand that mysteries like this do not interest her at all, but they drive me mad. From the moment I saw that door, I suppose my fate was sealed. In the old refrain of many sorry souls before me, I had to know.

The first few nights I was there was admittedly spent partying and catching up, and nothing out of the ordinary happened. I split my time between staying with Caoimhe and staying with an ex-boyfriend of mine, Brian, who lived about half a mile away in another part of the university district. I was at his place when I got a call from Caoimhe at about two in the morning, telling me that some weird shit was going down and I had to come see. I, of course, ran over there as quickly as possible, to find the house in uproar. Aside from one girl on the ground floor, everyone else lived in the Endless Hallway – all three of them – and they were all out of their rooms and standing in a strange section of the hall about two thirds up. Here, two rooms were located, the doors to which were set back in a little alcove. Opposite this alcove was another fire door that had to lead to nowhere, that I admittedly had not noticed before. I stared at it, confused, and then I was temporarily comforted when Gemma, once of Caoimhe’s housemates, asked me if I hadn’t noticed it before, either. I absolutely had not, and the general consensus was that nobody had noticed this fire escape. It was very difficult to miss, too – it was silver, with the green sign for a fire escape on it, but strangely there was no way to open it from this side. It was just a smooth door – no handle, no push bar, nothing. Being a fire escape door, it should have had a push bar and swung open into the stairwell or hallway beyond, to prevent it from being blocked from opening by a crowd of people trying to escape, but there was nothing. It was like looking at a fire escape door from the outside. Everyone agreed that it could not have been there before; Gemma and Ashley, the girl in the room next to her, were absolutely adamant they would have noticed it, considering it was right opposite their doors; Caoimhe admitted that she probably wouldn’t have noticed it because she wasn’t in the habit of noticing every door she walked by, but she did admit that the colour would have made it hard to miss. I, of course, amin the habit of looking out for such details, precisely for reasons like this, so I had definitely not noticed the door before.

I asked how they had noticed, and Gemma said that she had heard running footsteps in the hallway going back and forth for some time, and as she’d been trying to sleep she had opened her door to tell whoever it was to knock it off. She had found the hallway dark, and the door opposite hers. She had understandably been freaked out by this and banged on Ashley’s door, and the commotion had drawn Caoimhe into the mix whereupon she had said she knew a guy who absolutely had to see this shit and called me. She was correct, and I duly stayed the rest of the night to see if anything else happened. Nothing did, and aside from the extra door that had materialised in the hallway, things were calm for another week.

When it all kicked off again, I was staying over after another heavy night partying. Caoimhe and I were passed out in her room when we were both woken up by an incredibly loud crash. Before we could work out what had happened, lights went on in the hallway outside and we heard Gemma start screaming, and I mean reallyscreaming. Caoimhe and I jumped up and ran out into the hall, sprinting the distance between Caoimhe’s door and the alcove, and there we found Gemma hiding behind her own door and the fire door opposite wide open. It had been flung open so wide that it had crashed against and dented the wall it was on. Ashley was looking at it, dumfounded; Gemma could barely watch. Caoimhe was also not being much help, so – bound by insatiable curiosity and an extreme lack of self-preservation that for me is so often co-morbid with said curiosity – I went forward to investigate. I noticed that the door seemed old, like it had perhaps been rusted in place; beyond it there was nothing but darkness, and cold air moved out of the passage with enough speed that I felt a strong breeze. I had my phone, so I turned it on to use it as a light, seeing that beyond the door was a short landing and then a set of stairs. I went to the wooden railing at the top and shone the phone down, seeing that the stairs appeared to keep going in a half-flight, small landing, half-flight pattern. The stairs were all wooden, and in bad condition. With the girls still nervously watching, I descended the first flight and then turned to look at the next one. It smelled stale now, and slightly damp; I put the brightness of my screen up and saw, arranged neatly at the end of each step, there was an item of children’s belongings – a toy, or a teddy bear. They were all arranged very precisely, one on each stair, all the way down as far as I could see. Where the light gave out, the darkness was so black it seemed to have a solid weight. I decided I was not going down there without a proper light, and as I didn’t yet have one, I retreated back up the stairs. We closed the door over, but it would no longer fit in its frame; a chair was dutifully carried all the way up from the distant kitchen and put in front of it.

I quickly discovered something even odder about that staircase. Probably to the surprise of nobody, it shouldn’t exist. The floors directly below us should have been a hairdresser’s; there was no space for a stairwell and no way to exit on the ground floor. I went outside and checked both the front and the back of the building, and no doors opened anywhere near where the stairs should have come out. There was just no possible way for it to fit, and no point to it being there. It was a dead end in dead space.

Now we get to the truly terrifying part. For several weeks the place seemed to be fine, just the kind of regular haunting I was used to but that the others understandably found concerning. Cold spots, weird noises, strange atmospheres, feelings of being watched… that kind of thing. It made me increasingly uneasy in one particular spot of the house, though. There was one other mystery door that led to a mystery staircase, and that was the strange, out-of-place door opposite Caoimhe’s room. I figured that there was a chance that that door shouldn’t be there, either – like the fire escape, it was a different kind of door to the others, and also like the fire escape, it didn’t quite fit into its frame. I tried multiple times to get in to the staircase beyond, but the door would absolutely not shift and every time I tried, I would soon have to retreat because of an overwhelming sense of sadness and dread. I’ve always been highly sensitive to the paranormal, and anyone who has spent any amount of time with me has seen some inexplicable stuff go down; something I’m known for is knowing things I shouldn’t be able to know. I either just know them – they just arrive in my head full-formed and I know that it’s the truth – or they come to me in dreams. These dreams stand out from the other dreams because they’re incredibly realistic, and even in the dream I know that they’re something else entirely. I’m either myself in the dream, moving around and discovering things on my own, or I’m watching as somebody else does it, silently observing and, unusually for my dreams, with no amount of lucidity at all. I suppose, with all my banging around trying to get up those stairs, I must have finally tapped in to whatever it was that would allow me to know what was beyond it, because shortly afterwards I experienced the worst instance of this of my life.

By this point, I was back at university. I hadn’t thought too much about it all in any detail because classes had started again and I was still exhausted from driving all my stuff back over, getting the ferry, unpacking… moving every three months was a bit of a drag. Despite this, when the dream started, I immediately knew where I was. The building felt different, and all the lights were dimmed to the point they were barely worth being on, but I knew I was back in Caoimhe’s flat and I also knew that it was years before anybody moved in. I stood there and watched as a woman walked towards me down the long, endless hallway. She was young, probably in her mid-twenties, and her hair was a mess. Her face was blotchy and her eyes red; she was still crying as she walked past me. I knew that she was moving out, that this was the final walk-through; suddenly I was the person who was moving in, and I was being handed the keys, and the estate agent was saying that the place was mine and that the agreement still stood: I was allowed to do anything with the place and the price would stay low, so long as I obeyed the wishes of the previous owners and kept the top floor as it was and in good order. I agreed and then I was alone in the hallway.

I immediately walked to the end of the hallway, past the room that was Caoimhe’s when I had known the place, and to the door opposite. The wood looked newer now, and when I pushed it, it swung open noiselessly and without resistance. I walked up a neat set of wooden stairs and the light was warm, sunset-orange. I emerged from the staircase and found myself in a lovely attic room, the sun setting through a large dormer window opposite. The room was a beautifully decorated nursery, with a small bed under the window and a dresser, a toy box, a rug on the ground littered with toys. I looked around, touching the small hairbrush on the dresser, seeing the little blonde hairs entwined in it; on the nightstand next to the bed was a picture of the crying woman I had seen earlier, happy now, holding a smiling little girl of about two or three months in her arms. I stared at this picture for a long time, feeling a growing sense of sadness that deepened into dread. I felt paralysed, unable to turn and leave even as the dread grew and I wanted to more than anything; instead of running, a sudden urge to sleep came over me. I staggered to the small bed, curled up to fit, and immediately passed out.

When I woke, I was on my back and the room was dark. There was enough moonlight that I could see the glint of the picture frame beside me. Immediately I was gripped by terror – I was aware, even then, that I do not sleep in my dreams. I can do a lot of things that most people can’t – I die in my dreams, I read and write in my dreams, I see my reflection in mirrors in my dreams – but I do not sleep. I decided to sit up and see if any of my usual tricks for waking myself would work, but before I could move I felt something shifting in the bed beside me. It was solid and firm and cold; it pressed itself against me with plastic smoothness and then shifted, part of it bending. Out of the corner of my eye I saw something sitting up in the bed beside me. I told myself not to look at it, but of course I did. Sitting next to me in bed was a baby, but at the same time it was a doll. It had the plastic look to it, the strange texture of the hair, the glassy eyes – but at the same time its face moved, its limbs moved, and around the eyes and mouth there was a slight discrepancy, like the whole thing was a plastic mask forced into the flesh of the face. I stared at it, mute, too stunned to do anything, and then the baby doll opened its mouth, revealing sharp, pin-like teeth, far too many of them – and it began to cry.

I have never heard a sound like it and I never wish to again. It was a cry so piercing it was painful; it was a sound meant to terrify. It rose the same dread in me as I imagine people felt when they woke to hear air raid sirens in the dead of night; the distant thud of falling bombs. It was all I could hear and it was all I became. It inspired a blind terror in me that I have rarely known; I wasn’t human as I launched myself from that bed. I was a prey animal in flight, I was running for my life. I jumped from the bed and before I could hit the ground I awoke, miles away, in my dorm room in Scotland – but something was on the bed beside me. I sat up, turned, and the doll was there. It looked at me, grinned, and opened its mouth. Then it started screaming again.

I want to say that’s the moment I woke up for real, but I was awake. That thing was beside me in bed, still screaming, and I was awake enough to panic, to roll out of bed, to stand up, to stare in frozen horror for several seconds, and then to reach out blindly until I managed to turn the lamp on. The room filled with light and still the doll remained, for three or four seconds, still crying that horrible sound, and then it faded. The sound faded with it, gradually, until I could only see an outline on the air, and then it was gone. I did not sleep for the rest of that night. For the rest of the semester, I only slept in the daylight.

I never returned to Caoimhe’s house. I have my answers, which is something, but I do not exaggerate when I say that the cost was far more than I anticipated I would have to pay, and that something of that experience has forever stuck with me. Even now, a decade later, I go to bed every night with the fear that I might wake up in that hallway again, the door at the end of it – and the knowledge that I will go to it, step into the sunset-orange of the space beyond, and go back up those stairs.

#[slumps onto desk] statement... ends #seriously that made me feel some kind of way holy shit i need a cup of tea and a lie down #anyway enjoy one of the most fucked up paranormal experiences of my life i guess #my creepy shit #creeptastic #statements #long post #anon #asks

[persephone-andromeda]

Three Words (i)

Summary: Three words shatters the potential for a relationship but will it be able to recover?

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Word count: 1.3k

Warnings: Reader calls Bucky ‘James’, angst

Author’s note: Hi everyone! It feels weird flexing this fanfiction muscle again after so long but I’m back at it again! The second part will be up sometime over the weekend. Happy reading!

Three words, that’s all it took. Three words to backtrack on a relationship, an understanding between two people, no matter how distant it might have been to begin with. Maybe you were friends, maybe you could dream of something more but any chances of that are slim now.

He wasn’t the only one who had suffered at HYDRA’s hand and now with the emergence of other powerful figures on the horizon, he wouldn’t be the last. He, who had been through so much, and you, suffering endlessly for no apparent reason other than to just exist, had beaten the odds for a chance at a new life, a good one.

You didn’t know him all that well, only from his Winter Soldier days when everyone was afraid of him, even Pierce, even though he would not admit it. You were a weapon too, not to the same extremes, but you made sure to stay out of his way.

You didn’t plan to find him in Bucharest but when he vanished from the sudden appearance of the Avengers, you took that as a sign that you weren’t ready yet. But when Thanos didn’t wipe out half of all life, your paths crossed again on the streets of Brooklyn and you thought for a few seconds that he had found you.

“I’m not here to hurt you,” he told you gently. “I’m here to offer you a home.”

You didn’t even know that he had noticed you before. You thought you were just another faceless name, another weapon to be used. You were wrong. They didn’t have complete control. You still made sure to stay out of his way but the frequent passings in the halls turned to little smiles and now a silence between…coworkers on top of the roof.

The stars were shining, the lights on the tower were all turned off so you could see the twinkling against the darkened sky. It was supposed to be perfect. But he was staring at you, a kiss exchanged, and doubts swirled around in your mind too fast for your mouth to stop.

You had stepped back away from him and was looking anywhere else instead of his eyes.

“What did you do that for?”

He furrowed his brow.

“Did you not want me to kiss you?”

You scoffed and started picking up the blanket from where it was laying on the ground. You could feel the traces of his warmth still lingering on the fabric as you held it against your body as a shield.

“Why did you do it?”

He’s quiet for a moment.

“You looked beautiful.”

“So, you just go around kissing people?”

“God, (Y/N), if I knew that you were going to react this way, I wouldn’t have done it at all!”

“Good,” you say and shift further away from him.

You look at your feet for a moment against the gravel of the rooftop before looking back up at him. He’s simply looking at you again, but you know what he’s looking for. How are you supposed to tell him? A kiss is simple, and it doesn’t have to have meaning to it. People kiss all the time just to kiss. But how is it supposed to be special with it’s yet another thing taken from you?

“You should have asked.”

“I’m sorry.”

You exit the roof and go down the stairs back onto solid ground. Your mind is foggy and a thousand different memories of a thousand stolen moments pass by too fast to catch. But you can feel the pain behind all of them. How can anything be special?

You scurry away back to your room and toss the blanket onto the floor to rid yourself of the memory. To make sure, you sweep it away under your bed so that you won’t be tempted to look on it. You have a moment of peace laying down on your bed before a knock sounds at your door. The soft whir of his arm gives him away and you’re not in the proper state to say anything to him. You’d only end up hurting him more than you already have.

“Go away, James,” You tell him, using his real name for him to understand.

“I’m just returning something,” he says, muffled behind the door.

You furrow your brow and then feel up to your neck where the locket hanged. You wrench open the door and in his flesh hand is the locket glimmering under the soft lights of the hallway. You stretch out your hand to take it from him, but he pulls back.

“I’m really not in the mood. Give it back.”

“I’m sorry. I should have asked you.”

“Give me my locket,” you try again but he holds firm.

“Would you listen to my apology?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

Anger starts to flare up again and you take a breath before you speak.

“I’m tired. Give me my locket so I can go to bed.”

Your hand is shaking now as you await the pressure of the metal back in your hand.

“Okay,” he says simply and hands it back over.

Once it’s secured in your hand, you run your thumb over the smooth metal of the front before securing it back around your neck.

“Don’t ever pull that shit again. You know how much this means to me.”

“(Y/N)-”

“I hate you.” Instantly, you feel the acid make its way up your throat. It isn’t true. It’s not his fault. He doesn’t deserve this reaction. “Just leave me alone.”

You shut the door and after a few tense moments, you hear his footsteps retreat down the hallway before you let yourself cry.

****

“You should talk to him,” Wanda says gently as she gently brushes your hair.

It’s morning now and you knew from the moment you woke, that she would be there, as she always was. You don’t know where you would be without Wanda to help you through your tough days. Working through your traumas is not something that is easy to ask for or even to talk about, but she understands almost better than anyone else.

“I don’t know how,” you say softly.

“You don’t have to tell him everything. You can say that he should have asked because no one ever asked you to do anything you wanted to.” You swallow and turn away from her reflection in the mirror. “He would understand.”

“That means telling him that I was under HYDRA’s thumb too. He’s already been through enough.”

“So have you,” she speaks gently before setting the hairbrush down. “You cannot compare your trauma to his. That’s not fair.” She starts to part your hair into a braid.

“I know.” You take a moment to pause. “I don’t know where to begin.”

“Tell him about the locket. He knows it means a lot to you, but he doesn’t know why.”

Only Wanda knows. She has seen everything but she cannot feel the pain of the memories. Maybe it’s better that way. The locket was the last gift you received from your parents before HYDRA took you away. It’s the only proof that you had a family, that you were normal before they made you into a machine of destruction.

“It feels too intimate,” you say softly. “I don’t know if I can.”

Wanda is quiet for a moment as she is slowly braiding your hair down your back.

“You don’t have to tell him right away but soon. They’re going on a mission next week and Steve said it might be a long one.”

You nod and face the mirror again. Wanda looks at you for a moment before returning her focus to your hair.

“Steve-”

“He’s not putting you out there. He won’t until you’re ready. He knows.”

You sigh in relief and look away again out to the skyline.

“Is he?” You ask.

Wanda pauses.

“I don’t know.”

#three words #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x reader series #bucky barnes imagine #marvel #bucky #barnes #james buchanan barnes #james bucky barnes

[coexiising]

Fade Into You - Chapter Four

SUMMARY ✦ Your first day at Vader’s castle.

WARNING ✦ N/A

MASTERLIST ✦ Here.

The first thing you noticed when your senses were given back to you was the warm heat emitting from whatever you were laying on. When you opened your eyes you saw that there was a small blanket draped below you, and you laid on some kind of tiny mattress. Upon further inspection, you saw that you were in some type of room - or much rather a cell, since it was clear that there was no way to get out of here. You felt overwhelmed, mentally cursing yourself to think that this could possibly work. You had walked right into the hands of a Sith, a very powerful Sith whose intentions you didn’t know at all.

Sitting up, a pounding pressure was felt in your head, it was dull and made you disoriented for a moment. Your thoughts took you back to the last moment you could remember, Vader grabbing you by the throat and pushing you up against the wall. Your head must’ve hit the rock hard and you were just now feeling the aftermath that the encounter had on your body. You could still feel the phantom touch of his hand around your throat, instinctively reaching up and touching the pads of your fingers against the nape of your neck. It was a little sore.

The room wasn’t very big, and it looked as though you were the first person to ever set foot in it before. Honestly it looked like it had been put together in a rush, possibly Vader trying to find a place for you. It wouldn’t be the first time that you had been held hostage by someone, but it was the first time that they had held you in anything other than a cell or in shackles. You knew there was no way that he would leave the door open, so there was no point in even trying.

You weren’t sure how long you sat there, scanning the area to get a good sense of your surroundings and waiting for him to come. When you did hear footsteps approaching the door, you put your legs up against your chest, watching the knob turn and there was Vader, standing with a plate in his hands. Your stomach rumbled, reminding you that you had yet to eat anything today except for a cup of tea in the Council Room. Was it even ‘today’ still? You still didn’t know how long you had been passed out for.

He kicked the door closed behind him and set the plate down on the side table. “Sorry, it’s the first time I’ve had a guest over.” There was a tone of amusement behind his voice, like he found this whole situation funny.

“I’m so honored,” You retorted, noting the slight strain in your voice that was no doubt from the choking earlier. “But I think I’ve overstayed my welcome, care to let me go?” You gestured to the door, even though there was a one in a million chance that he would actually consider such a thing. You knew that you were stuck, but maybe you could somehow speak to the part of him that you saw in your dreams.

“What happened to finding out our connection?” Vader asked. “And to think you were starting to grow on me.”

“You lied to me,” You told him, eyes squinting. The smirk left his face and was replaced with him biting his inner cheek, eyes darting to the floor and averting your gaze that stayed centered on him. You could feel it in him, that inner torment that often plagued users of the dark side. He wasn’t like this in your dreams, what had changed?

The solemn look on his face left as quickly as it came. “You shouldn’t have trusted me. Isn’t that what your Council always preaches? That the Sith cannot be trusted?”

“I thought that you were different.”

Vader looked back up at you now, eyes looking directly back up into yours. Everything about him was dark except for those eyes, which for a moment you could’ve sworn you saw a hint of blue flash across them. He couldn’t be much older than you, but he was different in many ways, you two were opposites of a sort. And yet, all you could feel was the constant push of the Force towards him, like you had felt ever since you started seeing him. He was using dark energy, but something told you that he was conflicted. Maybe, just maybe there was a chance that you could bring him back to the light side.

He sucked in a breath, ignoring your statement. “You should eat something, you were out for at least a day.” Vader motioned to the plate on the table. Now that it was eye level with you, you could see that there was a piece of some type of bread and a bowl filled with something that resembled the soup you used to be given at the temple. “And then I can give you the tour.”

“Tour?” You asked.

“You are my guest.”

~

From what you gathered through Vader talking as you followed him through the different rooms of the castle, you could sense that he was a little lonely. He never gave away too much about himself or his past, but there was no one else in residence here, though he did mention that his Master came sometimes to check in on him. It was as though he was a different person than who he was when he cornered you at your first meeting. You wondered why. Maybe it was because he had been threatened.

Vader mentioned that there was no way off of Mustafar. He had taken your ship to Maker knows where and there were no other ships for you to possibly hop on. So your hopes of escaping were somewhat crushed, though there was the possibility of you contacting one of your Masters if Vader kept you alone for long enough. Would they even come if you found a way to reach them? You had disobeyed their orders. No. You thought to yourself. That was just Vader’s talk getting to you. The Order cared about you and your wellbeing. They probably had search parties looking for you right now. And your friends Obi-Wan, Rex, and Ahsoka were probably worried and fronting those teams. You had nothing to worry about . . . Right?

Your footsteps stopped in their tracks when you turned a corner, being met with a familiar window and corridor. The one from your dreams. It was the same, which gave you a sense of deja vu when you resumed walking.

“This is towards the back of the castle,” Vader explained, his footsteps significantly heavier than yours against the hard floor. “I don’t know why the dreams always end up here, the only thing here is the view.” That view, which you were nearing now, looked strikingly different in real life. The lava pooled in the same way and the obsidian looked just as dark as it always did, though now you could feel the heat arise even through the glass, and you could see that there were in fact some types of animals crawling on the rocks. They looked like little salamanders, skittering across the pebbles of brimstone. And to your left you could see a clearing where some plants were living, bushels of flowers erupting from the ground.

“I thought nothing could live on Mustafar,” You said out loud. “That’s what they always told us on Coruscant.”

“There’s some indigenous plants and animals, but nothing else could be brought here to live, which was why it was never colonized,” Vader spoke.

You squint your eyes, turning on your heel. “But you live here. Isn’t that dangerous?”

“I’ve always been here,” Vader said, shrugging his shoulders. “Ever since I was young. But it’s the same thing as you and the Jedi, they’re always taking young children.”

“But that’s different. The Jedi take and train kids to be peacekeepers,” You replied. It did pain you to think that you would never know who your parents really were, or if you had a big family. But it had always been that way, the Jedi were your family, they were the ones who cared for you. “They’re trying to make a difference in the Galaxy.”

You heard him laugh, which ticked you off more than it should’ve. “They still take kids from their families.”

“Are you really trying to have a morality competition with me, when you’re a Sith?” You retorted, shutting down this conversation before it went any further. You may be stuck here and you may be connected to him, but you weren’t going to listen to him talk about the Jedi in a bad light. Those were your people, on the right side of this whole war. Just because there was no way that you were leaving any time soon didn’t mean that you were going to be converted to the dark side. If anything, all you wanted to do was figure out this whole dilemma and then cut it off and never see this ‘Darth Vader’ again unless he was at the end of your lightsaber.

Both of you were quiet then, until he said, “I do have a name, you don’t get to come to my home and not call me by it. I won’t be disrespected in my own home. I’m a Lord.”

Now it was your turn to laugh, and you did it shamelessly. Was he really speaking to you about you respecting him, when he wasn’t respecting any of your wishes?

“I’m not calling you by your Sith name,” You said.

Vader didn’t respond, instead turning and grabbing you by the arm and walking down the hall. You didn’t fight back, knowing that he was just taking you back to the room you woke up in. Apparently he’d had enough of your backtalk for today. And he didn’t say anything when he pushed you back in and closed the door. You heard the lock click and shook your head, knowing nothing good was coming out of this.

Time went by, which you spent by exploring the room in depth. There really wasn’t much, but you did find a clock that you propped up against the wall, seeing that it was getting late. And you found another blanket in one of the drawers, you covered yourself in it and sat back down on the tiny bed, if you closed your eyes you could pretend that you were back at the Temple. You reached out through the Force, but everything was blocked. Vader probably wasn’t going to allow any kind of Force communication through, and it was useless anyways. Mustafar was so far away from Coruscant, so only a Jedi passing by would be able to sense anything. And it wasn’t like they were out in this region of the Outer Rim often.

You thought that the most boring thing about the room is that there was really nothing to do. There wasn’t a holopad for you to scroll through videos and articles endlessly, and there weren't even any books for you to read. As time ticked on and it neared eleven at night, you were pretty sure that Vader wasn’t coming back.

Though, like he could sense what you were thinking, the door opened, and Vader was there. He was dressed somewhat more comfortably, a loose black shirt hung off of him unlike his normal, fitted robes. You hated to admit that he looked somewhat attractive like this, shoving those thoughts to the side and giving him a blank expression, wondering what he wanted this time.

“Are you hungry again?” Vader asked. For someone who was supposed to be a Sith, he seemed at least a little bit concerned about your wellbeing. It was as though a switch had been flipped and he was back to his more normal self, if it wasn’t for the glowing amber eyes, you would’ve almost thought that he was a normal person.

You shook your head, knowing that you could wait until the morning to eat something.

“Okay, well, then I’m going to sleep. I’m not sure what will happen now that we’re under the same roof, but from now on our main focus should be figuring out whatever is going on,” He said, like he was suggesting but you knew that it was more of a tell. You wondered what happened after you two discovered this anomaly, if he would let you go or a darker, more sinister fate would fall upon you.

You mumbled something along the lines of ‘okay’ and watched him turn around. But then he stopped, prompting you to raise an eyebrow.

Without even looking at you, he said, “It’s Anakin.” His back was turned to you but he quickly glanced at you, then immediately darted his attention back forward, like he was hiding from you. You looked at him for a moment, not knowing what he was talking about. You hadn’t ever heard that name before . . . And then it dawned on you. That was his real name, not his Sith name. Vader was telling you his real name.

“Anakin,” You said out loud, as if you were testing the name out. It felt good on your tongue, the word spilling off of it with ease. It was a strange name, but it somewhat suited him. Now you could put a name to his face, to those golden locks and the chiseled features that silently knocked your breath away. Anakin was a name of someone you could learn to get along with, Anakin was a name you could trust. That’s who he truly was, deep down, even if he didn’t know it himself. He stiffened as he heard the name come off of your lips, like he hadn’t heard someone say it in forever. It made you even more intrigued, what was his story? He said that he has been here since he was young, how young was he? Who was this Anakin?

More importantly, why hadn’t the Jedi come for him? He was obviously strong with the Force, so why had the Jedi let him slip from their fingers?

“Goodnight, Y/N,” He spoke, not giving you a moment to answer and closing the door. You sat there, thinking about Vader as you finally decided to go to sleep. There was more that met the surface of him, that was for sure, though you wondered how much he would let you know.

Sleep overcame you rather quickly, being swept up into your familiar dreamlike state. But the dream with Vader never came, no matter how much you searched your subconscious for it. Perhaps the Force didn’t want it anymore now that you two were together, maybe this meant that you were headed in the right direction. Instead of meeting Vader literally in your dreams, you found your mind thinking of him, visions of you and him walking together, talking together, laughing together. And when you woke up the next morning, instead of recoiling at the thought of Vader, you were looking forward to your next meeting, hoping that he woke up soon and you two could get started on your day.

Whatever that would entail.

#Anakin Skywalker #anakin x reader #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker x you #suitless vader #suitless vader x reader #star wars #star wars the clone wars #star wars prequels #star wars fanfiction

[justkeepstimming]

The Simple Joys of “Too Much”

Something that I was often confused by growing up was people’s disinterest in things I found fascinating, interesting, or even beautiful.

I was thinking about this the other day, as my caregiver was discussing something – but I was far too distracted by the weeds on the side of road.

The way they were swaying to the breeze of the passing cars, their bright colors contrasting against the grey highway and the green grass – it just gave my heart such joy to see that I got to experience them before they were cut down.

I don’t know if it’s my ability to zero in on the smallest of details, the hyper empathy kicking in, or what it is – but my brain has an uncanny way of seeing the beauty or joy in some of the most mundane of things.

I tend to find happiness in the little things, even when dealing with inconveniences.

[Oil spill in the parking lot, resembling a rainbow swirl.]

Oil spill in the parking lot?

You’ll have trouble pulling me away from the beautiful colors. Forget chores; look at those swirls, how they intertwine within each other and push against.

It reminds me of how people’s lives are so intermingled with one another, each one impacting another – even if they never meet.

(I’ll still panic later about the environmental aspect, though.)

[A rainbow cast onto the wall by a CD’s reflection.]

A CD reflection on my wall?

I’m not moving anytime soon. Isn’t that so wonderful to see all the lights! I get a rainbow without any rain, and it’s like my own little prism.

[A bright blue bay of water with a blue sky above, taken from above on a pathway at Scarborough Castle.]

Passing through the Scarborough castle tour in 2016 to see a bay that everyone else has seen?

No, it’s a sensory epicenter and I need to take it all in. I’m breathing in the smell of the air, the realization that I had survived all those years to that very moment – tightly holding my fiancé’s hand to keep me steady as the sound of seagulls flew above our heads.

My soul needs to take in the blue of the sky, all the possibilities of creatures hiding under the waves, the lives of those walking down the beach…

The castle itself is rich in history. Think of the stories those stones could tell – I got overwhelmed thinking of all the trauma that could’ve been etched into those walls.

I might not speak, but I can feel everything – and I feel it intensely.

The smallest things can give me immense joy: a beautiful leaf, a rock, a snoozing pet in a window.

I imagine the lives they lived or the things they’ve seen, whether literally or figuratively – wondering what experiences shaped them to where they are today. I take both happiness and solace in knowing I exist at the same time as others I care about, wriggling in excitement when I see others having a good day or expressing happiness. I am content in the sound of cat purrs, the wag of a dog’s tail, the acknowledgement from animals who will sit near me even when they don’t know me.

I love joy and adore the simple things.

But the simple things can also fill me with grief, sadness, fear: a place where terrible things have happened, seeing someone with distress, hearing and sensing the anger of others.

A grieving sigh, footage on the news, the sound of racing footsteps down the hospital hall after a code blue is announced – I’ve never been able to desensitize myself to others’ distress. I was banned from watching the news as a child for a bit because of this; I would cry at every story, because I couldn’t do anything to help.

I can feel it all, and I cannot turn it off.

For better and worse.

[A person with messy blonde hair and a flower mask is sitting in a wheelchair outdoors. There is a colorful bird sitting on their arm. Behind the mask is a very happy and content Courtney.]

People often ask why we as autistics stim and move, and why we cannot simply comply.

Truth be told, it’s because my brain and body cannot comply, nor does it even need to. I exist in my own space where my brain and body are interconnected and disconnected all at once – while speech doesn’t connect like it used to due the brain injuries, all the emotion and energy flows freely through my sensory systems that I cannot contain. Sometimes it can overwhelming, but sometimes it can be beautiful.

No wonder my body demands I move and stim! To not allow myself to move goes against nature itself, for energy cannot be extinguished. I absorb and sense it all, and I must react. To not react is painful for me, and denies the very acknowledgement of life’s many experiences.

The world is simply so much, for better and worse.

- Courtney Johnson, @justkeepstimming

https://justkeepstimming.com/2021/08/16/the-simple-joys-of-too-much/

#autism #actuallyautistic #disability #sensory #sensory processing #asd #just keep stimming

[coffee-imagines]

Wrong Houses Pt 2

part one

Pairing: Draco x weasley!reader

Warnings: none

A/N: I wasn’t sure what I was going to do for this but then I got an idea and got excited so here we go :) I’m glad a lot of you liked the first part. Also can we talk about how iconic Molly’s howler to Ron is in the movie?

Summary: After a letter home an unexpected surprise arrives during lunch

———————————–

You’d started crying the second your face hit your pillow, the feelings from the past five years hitting you all at once. You felt overwhelmed, your body shaking when your cries turned to sobs. There was no way you could go home now, not after what Ron had told you. You felt like a bother to your family, and inconvenience that they had to deal with because of your differences. The sound of footsteps made you hide your face deeper into the pillow and try to calm your shaking, thinking one of your dormmates had come back to get something.

“Y/N.” Draco’s voice filled your ears, his hand softly touching your back. You couldn’t bring yourself to speak, knowing you would only cry harder. “I’m here, it’s okay.” He assured you, helping you sit up before he pulled you in for a hug. You clung to him, crying into his neck while he whispered reassurances in your ear and rubbed your back. It had taken a while but you finally stopped shaking, your tears falling silently, hitting Draco’s neck and sliding down wetting the collar of his shirt.

“I don’t… I don’t want to...” You stuttered out, trying to find your words but Draco shushed you, playing with your hair to try and calm you down fully before you tried speaking again. You took a few deep breaths, closing your eyes trying to focus on Draco instead of everything else. “I don’t want to go home.” You whispered in his neck. “I don’t ever want to go back home.” You sniffed, hugging Draco tighter.

“You don’t have to. My parents actually like you. I’m sure if I write a letter home my mom will let you stay with us.” Draco explained and you nodded, pulling your head away from his neck. Draco’s heart clenched when he saw your tear stained face, the complexion of your skin almost matching your red hair, your nose even redder and your bottom lip still quivering. “You’re going to be okay.” Draco reassured you, leaning down to kiss the tears away. You closed your eyes, and a small smile made its way on your face when Draco softly kissed your eyelids.

“I’m going to write a letter to my parents. They should know I’m not going to come home.” You explained softly and Draco nodded in agreement. 

You took a deep breath, reaching over in all of your belongings to get a paper and a quill. It took a while before the quill touched the paper. You were trying to find the right words to say. Writing the letter didn’t make you happy, it hadn’t been like you really wanted to leave your family, but at this point you felt like it was the only way it would make them happy and stop worrying about how you turned out. There wasn’t a day that went by that you didn’t feel guilty about how everything had turned out, and you refused to spend the rest of your life being reminded of something that was out of your control.

Molly and Arthur Weasley,

I know I don’t normally write home, but I have something important to tell the both of you that just can’t wait. I have suspected that I have been a disappointment to this family since my first day here at Hogwarts, and according to Ron’s words my suspicions are correct. It hurts to think that I have ruined the legacy of my own family and not been sorted into what we perceive to be the correct house. Although I’ve also upset everyone with my relationship with the Malfoy’s son, that I won’t apologize for. I refuse to apologize for something that makes me happy, but I will apologize for the mistake that was made by me being sorted into Slytherin instead of Gryffindor like the rest of the family. 

I unfortunately cannot change the past, but I will take it upon myself to change the future and not continue to burden everyone in the family with my presence. I will hopefully be staying with the Malfoy family, but if not then I will find another way. I no longer feel like I am a part of this family, and although I haven’t for a while, being called a disappointment to my face is where I have to draw the line. It doesn’t bring me any pleasure writing this letter. It pains me that I will have to leave my family, because although I care about all of you greatly, I guess that doesn’t go both ways. Any of my things that Ginny can use she can have, but the rest I will give to the twins to sell in order to help them with their plans for the future. I’m sorry I couldn’t be the child you wanted and I’m sorry that things had to turn out the way they did. I will miss all of you greatly, but I understand if you don’t feel the same toward me.

Good wishes always, Y/N Weasley

Your hand shook while you wrote, the words coming out in shaky lines, some tears falling onto the page that made the ink smear. You sniffed and bit your lip to keep yourself from balling all over again, squeezing your eyes shut when Draco placed his hand on your back.

“Don’t touch me.” You whispered softly and shook your head. You were trying too hard to keep it together, but you knew if he tried comforting you you’d only break down again and let it all out. Draco’s hand moved away from you and you let out the breath you were holding. Clearing your throat and wiping your face you stood up, grabbing an envelope you folded the letter silently before slipping it in. You wrote everything you needed down on the front and you turned to Draco. “Come with me?” You asked, your eyes soft showing how much you’d actually been hurting, but your face almost looked as though you hadn’t been crying, the only thing giving you away was your puffy eyes.

Draco nodded and stood up, walking as close to you as you allowed him. All the way to the owlery you would move a bit away anytime Draco brushed against you, walking in silence. You had nothing else to say, wanting to forget about everything with your family, you even went as far as thinking about changing your hair a different color so you wouldn’t resemble any of your family members, but you knew you couldn’t. A small pit formed in your stomach when you watched the owl take off with your letter, but you took a breath and brushed off the feeling, finally grabbing Draco’s hand when you both walked back to the Slytherin common room.

That night Draco had sent an owl home to his mom about your situation, asking if you’d be able to stay and start living with them for the rest of your time at Hogwarts. The following days you’d avoided your siblings like the plague, especially Ron. You were lucky enough to only have one class with your brother, and you both sat on opposite ends of the room. You’d felt his eyes on you during class, but you never looked in his direction, wanting to put as much distance between you and your family that you possibly could. You wanted to get used to them not being in your life anymore, and not living with you anymore. This had been the only time you were happy to be a Slytherin, being in different houses making it easier to not see them. The only time you had to actually see your brother’s were at Quidditch games, and you were glad that those were the only times, knowing you wouldn’t have been able to handle anything more.

Everything had started taking its toll on you, every day you would be mentally exhausted, a heavy weight seeming to hold you down. Draco wasn’t the only one who had noticed this, your entire house could see it, and it only made the rival between the Gryffindor’s and Slytherin’s thicken. Slytherin’s had always stuck by their own through anything and you’d definitely proved how much you belonged in your house over the years, shocking even the people who had thought the hat had messed up your first year.

You were resting against Draco’s side, picking at the food on your plate. You’d lost most of your appetite, usually eating when Draco would be with you, but today had felt different. It had been hard throughout the past few days, and the second you’d gotten up in the morning you felt more exhausted than you ever had before. You smiled softly when Draco started playing with your hair and you finally decided to start eating when you felt your stomach grumble softly. You kept your head on Draco’s chest while you ate, wishing you’d been able to stay in the common room with him instead. Owls started flying overhead but you ignored them, not expecting any mail to come from home since it never did.

“Ronald Weasley!” Your mother’s voice filled the great hall making your head shoot up from your plate. You watched in amazement, your family owl flying over and sitting on you after dropping a letter in your hand. “How dare you speak to your sister that way! I am absolutely disgusted! I want an explanation sent home and an apology to your sister right this instant! If I hear anything from her about you again I’ll have you brought straight home!” Your mother yelled in your brother’s face and your face turned red in embarrassment. The howler turned to the rest of your sibling but you drowned it out, looking down and opening the letter that had been dropped in your hands.

Y/N,

Don’t you even think about leaving. Your father and I care about you dearly, and we do not agree with what your brother has said. We will have a discussion as a family when you all come home for the summer. Let me know if they give you any more trouble.

Love, Mom

You smiled down at the letter in your hand. Although short, it had everything you needed to hear in it. You were pulled out of your thoughts when you heard all the Slytherin’s around you laughing, pulling your attention to the Howler that had barely finished scolding all of your siblings. Ron had been walking across the hall almost in shame, almost every student laughing to themselves at the scene they had just witnessed. You watched anxiously, wondering if he was going to come over and make your mother’s words seem like nothing. The rest of the Slytherin’s watched with you, surely making Ron’s nerves way worse because of all the eyes that had been on him. You’d been surprised to even see the teachers watching the scene before them.

“Y/N listen.” Ron started, rubbing the back of his neck, his face already red. “I’m sorry for being a prat. I was upset and shouldn’t have taken it out on you.” He explained, your attention averting to the sea of red hair that had been making their way over. “We all don’t care that you’re in Slytherin. It’s just weird to us, and we need time to get use-” He continued but you cut him off.

“Five years isn’t enough?” You asked softly, biting the inside of your cheek. You felt overwhelmed, feeling too many things at once made your bottom lip threaten to quiver.

“We don’t mind it.” The twins explained and Ginny agreed next to them. You knew they hadn’t cared, but hearing it seemed to make you feel a bit better. You turned your attention to Ron, waiting for his explanation.

“We used to do everything together, then we came here and separated and I didn’t like it.” Ron explained, shocking you. “I know I should have talked to you about it instead of pushing you away all these years but I never knew how. I just wanted my sister back, but instead I pushed you away and hurt you instead and for that I am sorry. Really.” Ron apologized, making you nod slowly.

“Thank you.” You whispered, looking down at your lap trying to think. “I need time.” You explained looking back up to Ron.

“How much?” He asked hopefully, and you bit back a smile.

“I’d say about five years.” You tried saying seriously, but you and your other siblings ended up laughing at the look on Ron’s face. They turned to walk away and you nodded to Ron, knowing the both of you would most likely talk later that day.

“My mom said you can come stay with us whenever you need to if you still want.” Draco explained breaking the silence, holding a letter you hadn’t noticed before. 

“I don’t think I will just yet.” You smiled, watching your sibling walking back to the Gryffindor table turning and kissing Draco’s cheek softly.

———————————–

Tag list: Let me know if you’d like to be added

@mathletemadison @severuslovebot @izzytheninja @obsessedwithrandomthings​ @dogglefoggle @supermassiveblackhope @jealous-styles

#harry potter #harry potter imagine #harry potter x reader #x reader #imagine #draco #draco malfoy #malfoy #draco x reader #draco malfoy x reader #draco imagine #draco malfoy imagine #weasley reader #weasley!reader #draco malfoy x weasley reader #draco malfoy x weasley!reader #not my gif #slytherin #howler #ron weasley #fred weasley #george weasley #percy weasley #ginny weasley #bill weasley #charlie weasley #molly weasley #slytherin reader #slytherin!reader #draco x slytherin!reader

[willow-tree-writes]

❀Lady Who’s Waiting❀

Peter Pevensie x Reader

Summary: Marriage isn’t something to take lightly. Especially when it comes to you being offered to marry someone who isn’t the High King himself.

Request: N/A

Author’s Note: This one turned out a lot longer than I originally was going to write it. Sorry if the end seems weird, I really wanted to get this out early today.

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings: Mention of Arranged Marriage

!I don’t own this gif!

“Where is she?” Lady Rosaline muttered under her breath as she stalked through the halls. She was looking for a certain lady-in-waiting who was late for an important meeting.

You were cuddled up in a corner of the library, dozing off while reading a beautiful romance between a simple maid and a spectacular knight. Time had slipped you by as the story captivated you.

The slamming of the library doors jostled a couple of bookcases as well as jostled you from a state of unconscious consciousness.

“Lady Y/N!” Lady Rosaline practically shrieked upon seeing your startled, curled up figure. “I have been looking for you for the past hour! The Kings, Queens and Prince Rilling have been waiting for two!”

You quickly stood up and placed the book you were reading down. “I am so sorry! I must have lost track of time!”

Before she could say anything else, you bolted from the library and made your way to the main hall. That’s where everyone would be. That’s where you were supposed to be.

You stopped right outside the doors, quickly fixing your hair and dress. Pushing the door open drew everyone’s attention.

The four Kings and Queens were seated at their thrones while Prince Rilling and his parents, the King and Queen of Archland, were standing in front of them. There were a couple knights scattered here and there.

You swallowed your nerves and stepped inside. “I am terribly sorry for my late arrival.” You speak as you walk up to the Kings, Queens, and Prince.

Prince Rilling made a step closer to you, gently taking your hand. “I am just glad you are here.” He placed a light kiss on the back of it.

“As are we all.” Peter’s voice boomed in the large room, causing you to clear your throat a little and take your spot between Susan and Lucy’s thrones.

King Deminon, Prince Rilling’s father, didn’t seem to take his eyes off you. “Now that Lady Y/N is here, I presume we may start talking about our request?”

Peter shifts, as if the topic was one he didn’t want to discuss. “As I’ve told you before, King Deminon, I do not think it is right to marry off one of my sisters.”

Susan and Lucy nod, already knowing that was coming.

Prince Rilling cleared his throat a little, pulling himself into the discussion of his marriage. “I understand your reasoning, King Peter. Might I suggest another candidate?” He looked between his father and Peter.

You shuddered a little at the term ‘candidate.’ It made it seem like a girl was only useful for him to marry. You wouldn’t lie, he was a looker, but your looks had been drawn to a different royal from the moment you stepped into Narnia with him.

Your attention wavered as King Deminon nodded and Peter hesitantly nodded.

You didn’t listen as Prince Rilling made his reasoning for the lady he had in mind to Peter. You didn’t listen as he hyped her up to his father. You did hear as he uttered her name. “Lady Y/N.”

Everyone’s eyes turned towards you once again, while your eyes found Prince Rillings. 

You had nothing against him, but you didn’t want to marry him. You couldn’t marry him. How could you marry someone when you didn’t love them? How could you marry someone when your heart was stolen by another?

You glanced at Peter, catching his eyes. There was a flash in them. A flash you couldn’t quite discern. Could it have been jealousy?

He looked away from you and towards the Prince who was awaiting a response. “I am sorry, but I cannot permit that either.”

“Why not?” King Deminon stopped his son from speaking with his own question. “She is a mere lady-in-waiting. Easily replaceable.”

You tried to keep any sort of emotion free from your face. Partly because you didn’t want anyone to know what was going through your head, but also because you didn’t know what was going through your head.

Peter was about to say something when Susan cut him off. “Lady Y/N is family to us. There has to be another way to form an alliance than through marriage.”

You brushed off your dress a little as you stepped down from your position. “Excuse me. I am just going to get some fresh air.”

You didn’t hear a word uttered as you walked away from everyone and out of the room. You didn’t utter a word or even breath as you made your way out to the courtyard.

It wasn’t until you were there and you knew you were alone when you finally let out a breath. A breath that let so much out of your body.

You knew Narnia and Archland had been working on coming up with an alliance, but you had never been told the details. Everything about this place was still new. Building alliances through marriage was a thing you thought only happened in the Middle Ages.

A hand brushed your shoulder as your mind made its way back to reality.

Your body couldn’t make up who the hand belonged to. Your heart told you it was Peter - comforting you - while your heart said it was Prince Rilling - trying to persuade you to marry him.

My mind had won the battle, as Prince Rilling crossed before you. “I am truly sorry for suddenly drawing you into this.”

You shake your head a little, giving him the softest smile you can muster. “It is quite alright.”

“Lady Y/N,” he lightly took your hand. Your reflex was to pull it away, but you didn’t. “I know we have just met, but I find you absolutely captivating.” That would be the first time, you thought. “And if you will give me a chance, I would love to try and win you over.”

You didn’t know how to respond to him. He truly seemed nice, but you knew you could never bring yourself to feel the way for you to marry him. “Your Highness,” you paused, sighing a little. “I must be honest with you. I-”

You were cut off by the opening of the courtyard doors and two sets of footsteps clicked in.

“Y/N. Prince Rilling.” Susan and Lucy walked over to you and the Prince. “We are sorry to interrupt, but we must be getting ready for the ball tonight.”

Prince Rilling nodded his head and took a step away from you. “I do hope you consider my offer, my lady.”

You already had. Your mind was made up. But he couldn’t know the truth. “Of course.”

----

You felt like you were going to be suffocated with how many people decided to attend the ball. You had been told it would only be a few - a small gathering. If this is what was considered small gatherings, you’d pass on extravagant festivities.

With a glass of wine in hand, you made your way through the sea of people and to the balcony. With fresh air filling your lungs, you’d be able to start enjoying yourself. If you weren’t interrupted.

“Still not much of a party person?” Peter made his way beside you, leaning on the balcony railing.

You smile a little and shake your head. “You said this was going to be a small gathering.”

“I swore it was.”

You turned and gave him a playful, ‘Yeah, right’ look.

He laughed a little. “I’m serious. Susan said it was just to be a few nobles. Not the entirety of Narnia.”

You laughed this time. “She’s just ambitious.”

“That’s one way of putting it.”

The two of you fell into a comfortable silence. A conversation didn’t need to be constantly flowing between you two. It was nice.

Peter cleared his throat a little as you took a sip from your glass. “So, how was your talk?”

Glancing his way, you furrow your eyebrows. “What talk?”

“Your talk with Prince Rilling.” He said as if it were obvious.

You shrug, looking away. “It was just a talk.”

“Nothing is ‘just a talk’ with Prince Rilling.” Peter somewhat grumbled.

His tone caught you off guard. He wasn’t necessarily not the jealous type, but you had never really seen this side of him. There was never any instance where he had to be jealous. He was the High King. Who could be so special to get the High King jealous?

You turn your body to face the king, setting your glass down on the balcony sill. “Peter, are you jealous?” You didn’t really want to ask it, but there was no way around this topic.

He scoffed and looked out at the view. He was avoiding your eyes. The eyes he found himself longing to look into far more often than he should. “Jealous? There’s nothing about Prince Rillings that I should be jealous of.”

“You should let Edmund stick with green, my King.” You grabbed your glass from beside his arm. Drinking up the rest, you started to head back into the party.

Peter’s hand grabbed your arm with a tenderness that had not been previously in his voice. “Where are you going?”

You decided to play around with him. “I am thinking of going to talk to Prince Rilling.” You were probably going to mention Peter’s behavior to Susan. “And accept his marriage proposal.” She and Lucy are really the only people that really know what’s going on inside their brother’s head.

His face twisted, but to what you could not tell. “Don’t.”

“Don’t what?”

You thought he was going to say, ‘Don’t joke with me like that,’ or something like that. But you were very wrong.

“Don’t marry him.”

You froze in your spot. Yes, Peter had declined the offer when Prince Rilling first suggested it, but that was in front of everyone, before anything could happen. Here, now, there was something else in his answer.

You didn’t know why, but you wanted to push him. Not physically, but verbally. “Why?” Why didn’t he want her to marry? Didn’t he want her to be happy? Prince Rilling wouldn’t make her happy in the way she wanted, but he didn’t know that. Peter didn’t know anything.

He was silent. 

He didn’t know how to answer your question, for he wasn’t being honest with himself.

You sighed, shaking your head the slightest bit. “If Susan or Lucy ask about me, tell them I went to retire for the night.”

Disappointment soaked your form as you made your way out of the party and to your bedchambers. The answer you were hoping to get from him failed to be leaked. The answer you knew you’d never hear wasn’t received.

Everything was silent as you changed from an elegant ball gown to the most simple nightgown.

Your bed was warm, a welcoming change from the chilly night air you had to endure while talking to Peter.

Eyes shutting themselves, you expected sleep to take over when a knock rang out throughout your room.

A light sigh escaped your lips as you didn’t care to move. “Come back tomorrow, Susan. I’m quite tired.”

The door cracked open anyways, ignoring your request.

“I’m not exactly Susan.” Peter’s voice grew louder as he got closer to your bed.

You turned in bed and sat up upon hearing him speak. “Peter? What are you doing in here?”

“I came to talk to you.” He stopped a couple feet from your bed. 

You sigh again and get up out of your bed. Walking over to your wardrobe, you pull your robe off it and wrap it around your body. “Now’s not a great time.”

“It certainly can’t wait.” He pressed onward, taking your hand as you started to walk out of your room.

“Peter, please.” I look at him, wanting more than a minute of peace and quiet. “There’s nothing else to talk about.”

He didn’t let go of your hand, pulling you closer with it. “I don’t want you to marry Prince Rilling because he isn’t fit for you.”

“What?” You were more confused if anything right now.

He looked as if he was hesitant to answer that question, as simple as it was.

You groaned, shaking your head. “Would you just spit it out, Peter?”

“You’re not just a mere lady-in-waiting to me. And not because your family, like Susan says.” He decided it right to stop his sentence there. As if you 100% understood what he was talking about.

“Then what am I to you, Peter?”

You expect him to stay silent. You expected him to let go of your hand and walk out. You didn’t expect him to be upfront and blunt. “You are a lady that has found her way into my heart and refuses to leave.”

If anything would knock their air out of your lungs without touching you and causing your face to burn brightly with no fire near, it was that line leaving his lips.

This time, you were the silent one.

You didn’t know how he was taking your silence as he pulled you even closer to him.

You placed your hands on his chest, looking down. “I am a lady-in-waiting.” You pause, looking up at him. “A lady who’s been waiting for you, Peter.”

His serious expression broke into a smile, as did yours.

“Then I better not keep the lady waiting any longer.”

He leaned down, not wasting a moment more to wrap his arms around your waist and give you the sweetest kiss you’ve ever had.

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