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#But it really just felt like capital N Nothing to me
katiexpunk · 6 days
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Fuck Me, Fill Me
Pairing: Joel Miller x fem!Reader | W/C: ~4K | Rating: 18+ Minors DNI
Summary: Accidents happen all the time — people fall, knives slip, condoms break. You spent years successfully avoiding one. Except things are different now, you're ready for more. Your husband Joel is more than happy to oblige.
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Warnings: Joel has one mission in this one -- knock you the fuck up (if that's not your thing, kindly move on). Heavy on the breeding kink. No age gap is mentioned (make it your own). So much dirty talk. Fingering. Dry humping/grinding. Praise kink. Size kink. Unprotected P in V. Rough sex. Semi-public sex. Sex in front of a mirror. Multiple creampies. No use of Y/N, no use of daddy. TLOU au. Reader has no physical descriptions except hair (no type or color) long enough to hold on to. Let me know if I missed anything!
A/N: I have no excuses for this one except that I have Joel brain rot and baby fever. Shoutout to the Capital One Lounge at IAD for the idea. Written on a plane.
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Accidents happen all the time — people fall, knives slip, condoms break. 
It’s inevitable, really. A known fact of life. Call it Murphy’s law, bad luck, or just plain stupidity… 
You’ve spent the majority of your teens and 20s successfully avoiding an accident. 
If it can happen, it will happen your superstitious aunt used to say, and you were a believer. 
Lord knows you've had more than enough evidence in your life to back up her words. From the tummy ache after eating way too many cherries, to the conspicuous brown stain that ruined your pristine white blouse. A blister on your heel from shoes that were supposed to be 'broken in' but never quite were, and the painful crack in your skin that followed. Proof was everywhere, and you learned to expect the unexpected.
You hold tight to that belief, while Joel does the same to your hips, fucking you within an inch of your life in the airport lounge bathroom.
But how you both ended up in this position was no accident. 
++++
It never seemed like the right time—you had so much more to explore, achieve, and experience. Becoming a mother would complicate everything; at least, that's what you convinced yourself. You were content to rely on that little orange pill each day, despite its own set of side effects, because it kept your options open. 
You weren't sure you'd make a good mom anyway. Your own mother certainly wasn't a shining example, and you had no reason to think you'd be any different. You couldn't even keep a cactus alive—how could you possibly care for a child?
But something changed not long after you and Joel got married. Maybe it was maturity slowly finding its way in, like warm honey filling the spaces you once closed off. It softened you to the idea of chubby cheeks and tiny fingers, gentle coos, and quiet lullabies sung in the deep southern drawl that had become so familiar.
Initially, you weren't sure how Joel would take the news, but when you told him you'd reconsidered, his reaction was beyond anything you'd expected. He was over the moon, filled with an urgency you'd never seen in him before. It was like you'd handed him the key to his deepest desires, and he was eager, almost desperate, to turn it and bring new life into your world, yours and his.
He made it clear just how eager he was when he took you in his arms and twirled you around the kitchen in joy. Then, without missing a beat, he bent you over the counter, yanked down your jeans, and made his intentions unmistakably clear. He fucked his cum so deep inside of you that night that you felt the warm dribble of him the next morning. 
++++ 
Good things come to those who wait.
The words seem almost lifeless as they peer back at you, the paper they're printed on showing signs of age and Scotch tape keeping it glued to the break room wall above the microwave. The optimism they once held has faded, leaving behind nothing but cynicism and wear.
Yeah. Right. 
The shrill beep of the microwave snaps you back to the present, your shoulders tensing. You shake off your irritation, clutching the warm coffee that’s been reheated three times, its heat barely reaching the chill of your underlying pessimism. It’s a small comfort, but enough to soften the ache of disappointment that nags at you every month when hope fizzles out.
Back at your desk, you bury yourself in work, flipping through emails and juggling various applications. Headphones in, you’re almost lost in your own world when a notification on your phone pulls you back. It's your cycle tracking app, reminding you that you're due to ovulate in a couple of days. But wait—
No, no, no. You quickly count the days in your head, then scramble to open your work calendar. The schedule's a blur until your eyes land on the words "Work Trip: Jackson, Wyoming." They jump off the screen, almost mocking you. Looks like timing won't be on your side this month. Unless —
Would it be too ridiculous to change an entire work trip just so you could make love to your ridiculously hot husband, and let him fill you again and again? You think not, but you know your boss might say otherwise. 
You spend the rest of your workday figuring out Plan B. The irony is not lost on you that you’re seeking out an entirely different kind than you used to. 
++++
As you settle into the couch, your legs draped across his lap, he begins to massage the soles of your feet in that soothing way that sends a ripple of warmth up your spine. You can't help but glance at his side profile—the elegant slope of his nose, the chiseled cut of his jaw, and the effortless curls of his salt-and-pepper hair that rest at the nape of his neck. He's undeniably handsome, a sight that never gets old.
His touch spreads a slow heat across your skin, your stomach fluttering in response. It's always been this way—the world could be crumbling outside, but with Joel, in your shared cocoon, you feel entirely at ease, wrapped in safety and affection.
“You're really gorgeous, you know,” you murmur, almost too quietly to be heard. You swirl the wine in your glass and meet his gaze as you take a sip.
“Nah, that's you, sweetheart,” he replies with a wink, his touch transitioning to featherlight kitten caresses as his fingers trace a path up your shin. He's not trying to seduce you, not really,  but his touch and the intent gaze he holds on you are enough to ignite a slow burn under your skin.
You relax into the cushions, your head sinking back into the pillow, reveling in this moment. When he pauses, even for a second, you squirm, and he chuckles softly. “Such a needy little thing, aren't cha?” he teases, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he resumes his gentle strokes. “Mhm, sure am,” you hum, your eyes closing as you melt into the sensation of his skin on yours.
He slowly journeys upward, callused palms gliding along the smooth skin of your thigh, alternating between soft strokes and firm squeezes. Each touch seems to awaken a deeper need within you, and you're all too aware of the growing bulge beneath your calves, a silent but potent reminder of the desire simmering between you. It's enough to make you ache for him, crave his closeness, the kind of closeness only he can provide.
You lift your head, and he's already adjusting, his broad frame looming over you. He locks eyes with you as he takes the wineglass from your hand, placing it on the coffee table with care, then shifts his full attention back to you. You push your hips upward, meeting his, and he presses down just enough to make it clear that he’s in control, his body holding you firmly but without discomfort. You know he’s got you right where he wants you.
Your eyes meet his, and the intensity in his gaze leaves no doubt—this is happening. He props himself up on one forearm, his other hand tangling through your hair, his knuckles brushing against your cheek with a tender touch. He thrusts his hips into you with more urgency, his lips descending to capture yours, drawing out a soft moan from deep within you.
“Fuck sweetheart, feel what you do to me?” he groans, pressing his lips harder against yours. He tastes the wine on you, and your tongues intertwine, each movement slow but deliberate. You work your arms free from your sides and slide your hands into his hair, tugging gently, your nails grazing his scalp. The deep groan that escapes him tells you he's feeling everything—the pull, the scrape, the heat. It rumbles from his chest, reverberating through you, and it's intoxicating.
With your lips pressed firmly to his, he captures your bottom lip between his teeth, giving it a teasing bite as he thrusts against you. The rough denim scrapes against your inner thighs, and he slots himself perfectly between your legs. His mouth leaves yours, tracing a path of soft kisses down your jawline, lingering at that sensitive spot just behind your ear before he pulls the lobe into his mouth. You moan, fingers tangled in his hair, while your other hand explores the broad expanse of his back, craving the feel of him, unable to get enough.
“Joel,” you whimper, his name almost a question on your lips. 
He doesn't pause, thrusting with just the right pressure, almost ignoring your plea. You move your lips to his shoulder and whisper, “I’m ovulating.”
That makes him stop. He props himself up on one forearm, his free hand on your ribs, his intense gaze locking onto yours. His eyes darken, pupils eclipsing the rich brown you know so well, and he groans deeply. Fuck. 
“Yeah, sweetheart? Mmm, big mistake telling me that, now I’m just going to pump you full of my cum all night, gonna fuck you again and again, keep you so full of me that it’ll have no choice but to stick this time.” 
You whimper at the thought, and his words go straight to your already wet core, your pussy fluttering around nothing, practically begging to be filled. 
You want him so bad, but right now, he wants you more — wants every part of you, wants to change you forever. His head dips back to your neck, and he's practically grinding into you, the pressure so intense it feels like he's already fucking you through your clothes. His beard rasps against your cheek, leaving a trail of red marks as he works his way down to your chest, hastily undoing buttons, uncovering your breasts, and teasing your nipples to hard, eager peaks.
It would almost be embarrassing how turned on you are right now if it were anyone but him, how easily he can fluster you, turn you into a babbling mess. 
“Well, not right now, but I am next —” you start to say, but quickly lose your train of thought as his whole hand comes down to cup your sex and the feel of his palm pressing against your dripping center. 
“Sorry darlin’, what was that?” He asks, doing little to hide the smug tone behind his voice, obviously pleased with the effect he has on you.
“I am next week, while I’m supposed to be in Jackson for work,” you manage to get out, the words coming out soft, a barely there thought, your attention mostly on the sensation of his thick finger that has now curled its way deep inside of you, your panties pushed to the side as they should never have been there in the first place, not with him in the room. 
“Come with me,” you ask, your words a tad breathless as he adds another finger to your dripping center, your slick coating them completely, and when he doesn’t answer, you’re not sure he heard you behind the haze of his arousal, the blood thrumming through his veins. Not that you can blame him, it’s so hard to fucking think, to breathe, to string together a rational thought that isn’t dirty when you’re together like this. 
“Gotta feel this pussy first,” he rasps, the words slightly muffled against the tenderness of your breast. His words sober you for a brief second, as you playfully push against him in protest. 
"That's not what I meant, and you know it," you laugh, and he can't suppress the goofy grin spreading across his face. He loves this—the playful banter, the way you bring out his lighter side, the perfect blend of passion and humor that flows between you. It's always been like this, effortlessly flirty, endlessly fun. You’re the perfect combination of sexy and cute, and better yet, you’re all his. 
“Alright baby, I’ll come with you, on one condition,” he says, adding a third finger, and the stench of him is intoxicatingly delicious, perfect, and intense in the best way. You already feel so fucked out, you’re not sure how he’s managing to find the will to set fucking conditions right now, but still, you humor him — 
“Conditions, huh?” You moan as he continues to pump his fingers in and out of you, the pads of his fingers grazing at the soft spongey spot inside of you that makes you see stars. 
“Yeah, sweetheart, conditions,” he says, nipping at your chin. “You’re gonna be the good girl I know you are and come all over my fingers, and then I’ll make sure that you’re full of me all week, whenever you want it baby, I’m all yours,” he rasps, his breath coming a bit more ragged now at the thought of your proposition and his. 
His fingers are still deep inside of you, he positions his wrist just right and brings the pad of his thumb to your clit. Your slick, combined with his filthy fucking mouth, and his thick cock pressed against you, creates the perfect conditions for the inevitable. He’s never not made you come, and you sure as hell know he’s not about to change that narrative now. 
If it can happen, it will happen. 
“Come on pretty girl, show me how pretty you come on your husband’s fingers,” he says, not really asking, but rather ordering in the tone that lights every nerve in your body on fire with arousal. 
The warmth in your lower belly spreads outward, wrapping you in a blanket of pleasure. Your limbs tingle, your vision blurs, and your toes curl as the intensity builds. For a split second, everything goes hazy, and you let go, surrendering to him completely. He takes control, guiding you through the waves of ecstasy, pulling you into a bliss that only he knows how to reach.
“So good for me, sweetheart. You are so perfect.” 
He makes you come once more soon after and then fucks you deep and slow. It’s all whispered praises in your ear, a firm grip on your hips, and his cock barely leaving your cunt before he’s slamming back into you, desperate to keep the tip of him as close to your cervix as possible. 
Come with me, you moan, and he knows exactly what you mean this time. 
“Shit, baby, I can feel you squeezing me, taking me so good —” his words break with a moan as you come for the third time, falling apart on his cock, before he adds “gripping me so goddamn tight.” 
His thrusts slow and he buries himself to the hilt inside of you, and paints your insides in thick ropes of cum, holding your gaze as he throbs inside, not daring to move and risk any of his spend coming out before he wants it to. 
He plants a soft kiss on your lips and tells you that you’re going to look even more gorgeous with his baby inside of you. 
++++
The delayed flight to Jackson was just another reminder of life's unpredictability.
What started as a simple 30-minute delay quickly turned into an hour, then two, and now you're both three hours past your original departure time. 
You find yourselves in one of the newer airport lounges, sitting in overly posh chairs. It's surprisingly uncrowded given the chaos that usually comes with airport delays. Your luggage is safely tucked away in the lockers, your bellies are full from the free snacks, and the irritation from earlier is fading thanks to the complimentary drinks. The ambiance is unexpectedly chic. Even the bathrooms feel upscale—private, enormous mirrors, fancy soap, and paper towels so luxurious they might as well be hand towels.
Joel is deep into a well-worn Western novel, its cover frayed and spine cracked from countless readings. You're scrolling through an article about the best positions for conceiving, smirking when you realize you and Joel have tried most of them, and then some. Just as you're in the middle of your read, your cycle tracking app sends a notification—you're at peak fertility, starting now. Have fun! ;) 
Shit. 
Who knows when you'll actually make it to your hotel room in Jackson tonight? You glance up from your phone, stealing a look at Joel. He's always handsome, but there's something about him in his glasses—the way the frames sit on the bridge of his nose, the slight furrow in his brow as he focuses on the words in his book. It's endearing how he still reads with such intensity, even though you know he's revisited these same pages countless times.
Your pussy flutters and aches at the sight, giving you a cheeky idea. He did say you could have him whenever you wanted. 
You clear your throat, hoping to pull Joel's focus from his book, but he doesn't seem to notice. You try again, this time a bit louder, and all you get is a distracted, "You okay, sweetheart?" without him even glancing up.
You know you’ll need to be more direct to capture his attention.
"I'm going to use the restroom," you say, and he nods, eyes still on the page. Once inside, you leave the door unlocked and hike up your dress, exposing your bare breasts. You pinch your nipples between your thumb and forefinger until they harden, then push out your chest, angling your smartphone for the perfect shot. The result is a provocative selfie that you know will make him put that book down.
You attach it to a message for Joel and quickly type out your request — come knock me up in the bathroom, Cowboy. 
He’s joining you in the bathroom faster than you thought he would, careful to avoid any curious eyes or draw attention to the fact that he’s about to absolutely wreck his wife.
Once inside, he locks the door behind him and grabs your waist, guiding you back until your hips hit the counter's edge. His hands roam over your body, lifting the hem of your dress until it's bunched around your waist. He kisses you with a desperate hunger, as if he hasn't had you in years.
"You sure you want to do this here, sweetheart?" he groans against your lips, shifting between playful nips, gentle kisses on your cheeks, and heated sucks at your jawline. The anticipation in his touch is palpable, but he's still checking to make sure this is what you want.
“Never been more sure of anything in my life except for the day I married you. Please fuck me, Joel, need to feel you stretch me out” you say, your words crossed between a whimper and a plea. 
God, just when he thought you couldn’t get any more perfect. 
“Yeah? My girl wants me to fill up her tight little hole,” he teases, already knowing the answer. He moves his hand to your dripping core and lets out a deep groan when he discovers you’ve already removed the barrier of your underwear for him. 
“Fuck baby, I’d do anything to taste you right now, wanna hear all those pretty noises you make and the way my name sounds when you moan it for me,” and you soften more under the heat of his words, letting your mind drift to thoughts of how good it feels when his head is between your legs, gently wringing orgasm after orgasm out of you like it’s his fucking job. 
“Gotta make this one quick, though. Can you be quiet for me, sweetheart?” He asks, and all you can do is nod. 
"Good girl—c'mere, turn around," he instructs, guiding you with his hands until you've spun around, your hips pressing into the sink. His hand travels down your spine, making you arch toward him slightly, and he bends you over even more. In the mirror, you see him behind you, his eyes locked on yours as he quickly unbuckles his belt and lowers his jeans to mid-thigh. The anticipation is electric as you watch him in the reflection, knowing exactly what's coming next.
He spits into his hand and jerks himself, all the while holding your gaze, admiring the way your breasts are pressed up against the counter, perky and perfect. His cock twitches at the thought of what they’ll look like all swollen and full of milk. 
He lines himself up against your wet and waiting hole, holds your hips steady with one hand, and gathers your hair in his fist with the other. He gently tugs it so your chin is angled up, eyes even straighter looking into the mirror. He loves watching you take it. 
“You’re gonna watch as I fuck you, sweetheart,” He rasps as he presses himself into you in one stroke. You’re so fucking wet, your greedy cunt accepts him easily, despite his size. Like it knows what it wants, and what it needs. There’s a dull delicious sting at the intrusion.
“Oh my god, Joel, you’re so bi—” You break off in a moan as he pulls out and then slams himself into you deep and hard. 
“God damn, look at you, my perfect fucking girl. Taking me so well, like this cock was made for you, huh baby?” His voice is firm, but quiet, just above a whisper. He’s not wasting time, he sets a punishing pace, and all you can do is let him use you. 
“Fuck me, fuck me, fill me, fill me” you cry out, and he brings his hand to cover your mouth. 
“What’d I say about being quiet, baby?” He holds you like that. You slip your hand between your thighs and rub your clit, a dangerous combination when he’s fucking you in this position. You come so fast that you think it might be a record. The tightening of your cunt has him on the precipice of his release.
“You’re fucking mine,” he growls, fucking his cum into you over and over, using every drop of him to give you what you want.
It might not stick this time, hell, it might not stick next time, but one thing is for certain — Joel will keep you full and fucked either way. 
END 
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A/N Continued: Thank you so much for reading! On a side note, my engagement here has been really low lately. :( As much as I'd love to say I don't care about the notes, I won't lie and tell you I don't need them for validation. If you like this, please consider leaving a comment or reblogging. I'll love you forever.
Tagging some moots for visibility (lmk if you want to be removed if the subject matter isn't your thing. No hard feelings!) @endlessthxxghts @syd-djarin @auteurdelabre @morning-star-joy@theoasisofthings @chulopascal @morallyinept @sweetercalypso @xdaddysprincessxx @burntheedges @punkshort @pedrostories @bastardmandennis @milly-louise @ghostwritesthings @josephquinnswhore @drunk-and-capable @survivingandenduring @hotgirlbedtimescenarios @ohheypedrito @joeldjarin @nerdieforpedro @amyispxnk @paleidiot @ghostwritesthings @kulekehe @darkheartgatita @goldenhxurs @javiscigarette @ro-nahime-things @gwendibleywrites @missladym1981 @morgaussy
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hannieehaee · 6 months
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NEEDLE IN THE HAY
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18+ / mdi
summary: after swearing off dating due to a messy breakup, wonwoo finds himself being forced out of the house by mingyu, joining the 97 squad as an honorary member. what wonwoo didn't realize, however, was that he'd end up swallowing his words after meeting the newest addition to the friend group.
content: idol!wonwoo x idol!reader, pining, friends to lovers, wonwoo's pov, reader is a 97 liner, oral (m receiving), penetrative sex, fingering, angst (with a happy ending), some self-deprecating thoughts from wonu </3
wc: 8.5k
a/n: can u guys tell i love idol aus or what .. anyways, this time i used proper capitalization since this is long as fuck! hope u enjoy even if its a bit of a mess <3
masterlist kofi/patreon
support me through a one-time tip! <3
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Wonwoo was going through a slump.
As commonly known by his fans (and probably non fans too, by now), Wonwoo had a girlfriend prior to debuting. He's not entirely sure how the news came about to the public (something about a trainee leaking information ..?), but in reality that didn't really matter. What mattered now was that he now had to relive his messy breakup over and over again as people made it a bit of a 'meme' among the fandom. It wasn't like it made it to the news or anything, but even the reminder was enough to bring back the bad memories surrounding it. All the low self-esteem and doubtfulness that was attached to it. The breakup might've been distant by now, but the news breaking out were fresh, causing Wonwoo's wounds to reopen.
Now, Wonwoo didn't blame carats for this. Under any other circumstance he would've also found it comedic, but after it being a few years since the breakup and not managing to find a long-term relationship ever since, Wonwoo found himself in a slump once more, just like he felt when he was freshly broken up.
She, who shall not be named, was one of his closest friends in grade school. She hung around when he was nothing more than a lanky loser (not his words, but that of a few rowdy kids at school). She'd seen him and respected him before the world even knew his name. And then she'd become more than a friend.
As Wonwoo first made the decision to join Pledis, he was entirely unsure of himself. He wasn't untalented by absolutely any means, that much even he knew. He was growing to be a handsome young man, and was discovering new skills every day. But he didn't feel like he stood out enough to make it all the way to debut. His girlfriend, however, stood by him and gave him the strength to continue, which he did in hopes of making not only his family proud, but what he believed to be the love of his life proud too. Okay, maybe that was a bit too much, but he was a teenager, who could blame him for thinking himself in love?
Soon after came his debut. Things were going great. The sole fact that he had made it to debut with 12 of his friends and fellow trainees had him over the moon. He had fans now; supporters who thought the world of him. He had a happy family waiting for him at home, and a girl he was infatuated with that he could keep all to himself, away from the public eye. Everything was perfect. Until it wasnt.
It was as predictable as you'd imagine. The fame, the limelights, the constantly-changing schedules. It was all too much for someone who could do no more than watch from the sidelines. The issues began a few years into his debut. He felt her begin to pull away. To be fair, he might've unconsciously pulled away first, but his life was getting too hectic for things to be the same as before. Maybe it was his fault for believing that she would evolve along with his life, willing to follow him as he continued his journey with his 12 friends.
If that had been the end, maybe it would've been okay. But the breakup had not happened just yet. We could've stayed friends if we had only ended it there, he'd thought many times. Unfortunately for Wonwoo, a clean break just was not in his cards. He found out about it through his younger brother. The betrayal. The disrespect. The heartbreak. He would've rathered she'd broken his heart face to face, you know? Maybe that way it wouldn't have hurt years into the future as it continued to do.
She had found someone else. It was some guy she met in college (something Wonwoo thought he'd do someday, but had chosen the life of an artist instead). There was nothing wrong with the guy, it just wasn't Wonwoo. He thought that maybe if she'd told him, he would've understood, would've been sad, but would've respected her decision, but no, she made her choice. Had she forgotten to break up with him beforehand? Was he just an afterthought? These were the questions that plagued Wonwoo's mind years after the fact. He had decided to confront her with what his brother had seen. Them together at a cafe, too close for comfort. What was saddest was her lack of denial. She didn't even fight back; fight for him. She had turned it around into his fault. As if he'd forced her hand. What broke Wonwoo more than the betrayal was the look of disdain in her eyes. It made him feel like maybe he was the villain. That maybe even if he tried, he just couldn't be loved in that way.
That's how he found himself in this situation. Two years past the five year long relationship, coming across another post detailing a theory of whether or not Wonwoo was still with his 'pre-debut girlfriend', as people liked to call her. He believed himself to be over the girl, but couldn't find himself to admit whether or not he was over the hurt. Only time would tell, he guessed.
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"Come on, hyung. You can't stay here every time you have one of your episodes. It's been years, you have to move on!"
Mingyu was getting ready for another outing with his famous 97 squad; this time the attendees being Eunwoo, Jungkook, and Y/N. He was trying, yet again, to convince his elder of joining him and his friends. Maybe he wasn't a 97-liner, but he was well-liked by all the members of the group, and he figured the outing would do his friend some good, seeing as he was once again down in the dumps over his old girlfriend.
"I told you it's not that, Mingyu," responded Wonwoo, barely facing away from his computer, once again gaming during his very limited free time.
"Okay, if you're truly not sad about that anymore, then come out with us! It's been a while since you've even left the apartment, and you've never actually accepted any of my invites out! If you don't like it, we'll leave. It's all people you've already met anyways," reasoned, a very stubborn Mingyu.
"I don't actually know any of them, Gyu. Saying hello whenever they come visit you doesn't really count as knowing a person."
"Okay! Fine! What do you want? What do I have to give to get my best friend to hang out with me? Money? You're rich! What? You wanna play video games? They like video games, too! Come. On. Just this once."
"Jesus Christ," he muttered, knowing his friend meant well, but not wanting to be around people while he had one of his usual slumps.
He pondered it for a minute. Maybe it'd be nice to be with other people like him. He'd never really made friends within the industry outside of the members and a few people he'd politely nod to as he walked the hallways of Hybe. Maybe it was time he broke out of his shell and befriended other people who would understand the loneliness that came with being an idol.
"Fine," he replied before his friend could hit him with another rebuttal to his denials. "Just this once."
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Wonwoo didn't know what he was expecting any time Mingyu would bring up his outings with the 97's. With Mingyu's extroverted and eccentric personality, both in and out of the public eye, he assumed he meant clubbing or at least hitting up a pub. He wasn't sure what you or Jungkook or Eunwoo were into, but he assumed you'd be somewhat like Mingyu. But he couldn't have been more wrong.
He was pleasantly surprised to find that his loud friend's friends all had a very striking contrast to him. The three idols sitting around him in Eunwoo's (whose name was actually Dongmin, apparently) apartment all seemed very quiet and calm. Their personalities also all seemed to match his better than that of Mingyu's, which made him come to the realization that maybe that was how they'd all befriended each other; through the overgrown puppy's incessant need to befriend everyone in every room he walked into.
Wonwoo appreciated Mingyu, truly. His outgoing nature would sometimes make a shy guy like Wonwoo, who liked to keep himself as small as possible, a little uneasy at times, but be appreciated his best friend's constant aid in getting Wonwoo's mood up. Even now. He hated to admit it, but his sudden decrease in mood seemed to be rapidly disappearing thanks to the new change of environment.
He had quickly taken a liking to Mingyu's three friends.
Dongmin was nice and insightful. A pretty face and a very interesting mind. He saw a bit of himself in him.
Jungkook was polite and funny. He was the perfect balance of childhood friend and college heartrob.
You. Well, Wonwoo hadn't quite figured you out yet. Admittedly, this had been the first time you'd ever spoken past a polite greeting or an inquiry for Mingyu's whereabouts, but he had been able to get a read for the other two members of the group. You were the outlier.
What he knew, though, was that he liked you. Okay, not like that, but there was an easiness that you seemed to carry with you. You were simply easy for him to fall into conversation with. It had already been a few hours (and a few drinks) since Wonwoo and Mingyu had arrived to Dongmin's apartment, and you and Wonwoo had been engaged in ongoing conversation shortly after arriving. And the conversation didn't seem to be heading towards its end any time soon. It had begun as a group outing (well, indoors), but to Wonwoo it now felt like a one-on-one, as the three remaining members of the 97's seemed distracted on their own, leaving you and Wonwoo to converse with each other freely.
-
"Okay, yeah. That can be kind of annoying, but how can you complain about Mingyu?! He's such a sweet guy," you laughed, responding to one of the many lighthearted disses of Mingyu Wonwoo had been feeding you with.
"You don't have to live with him. He's even louder at home," he chuckled.
"Then move out! I live alone now, finally. I love my members, but there's nothing as nice as being alone after coming home from hectic schedules."
"Yeah, I can imagine. Can't do that, though. I don't really like being alone that much," he revealed.
"You? Really? Then how come it's taken Mingyu this long to get you out of the house?," you inquired, leaning towards him with interest.
That was something he liked about you immediately. You listened. You showed visible interest in what he had to say. Granted, none of the things you'd been talking about thus far were groundbreaking (so far you'd managed to speak of predebut stories, hopes for your respective groups, current hobbies, a few movie and book recommendations here and there, and endless other things), but he still appreciated someone outside of his family and members who showed interest in what he had to say. Still, part of him believed he might've been so starved for affection he could've just been reading too much into it.
"Oh," he chuckled. "He told you about that?"
"Fuck. Okay, don't tell him I said this. And I mean it, I trust you, Wonwoo," you paused. "He told us he'd been trying to get you out of the house a bit ... that you'd been feeling down."
Oh. Okay, now he felt a bit awkward. Why would Mingyu give opening for him to receive pity even from strangers?
"Oh. I-"
"So, I insisted he invited you come out with us."
Oh?
"You did? I .. How come?"
"Well. Honestly? I've been there. Having your members is great and all. And if you have a supportive family, that's even better. But our lifestyle's too isolated to not have as many people around us as we can. I don't know how I managed to navigate the industry before meeting Mingyu. He really took me under his wing and made sure I felt welcomed with the other 97's, even with all the shit he got for hanging out with a female idol so publicly."
So, that's how you'd met. Man, he's always known Mingyu as one of the nicest people he's ever met, but this truly made him take the cake. He remembered the articles that came out about both you him (and a few of the other 97-liners) when they'd made you the first female addition to the friend group. He didn't pay them much mind, seeing as dating rumours come by the dozens among idols, but he hadn't really stopped to think about how it might've affected you.
"Did he tell you about .. why I kept saying no?"
"No. And I didn't want to intrude. Your battles are your own, Wonwoo, unless you want to share them."
Well, fuck. He was wrong. Well, right. Both. You did care. You didn't even know him, but you still cared. Or at least it seemed like it. He couldn't really wrap his head around the concept. He hadn't let anyone in (other than his 12 brothers) about what had happened. He had never felt the need to. He felt embarrassed by it. I mean, it was just a break up; an old one no one even knew about. Yes, he got cheated on, but it had been years ago. He should be over it by now. Even though people kept bringing his ex up. But why did he feel like he could confide in you?
He considered it. Telling you, that is. But he quickly realized that was just the alcohol talking. You had just met. He didn't want to scare you away. Hmm. Maybe he should circle back on this thought at some point. He also didn't want to make you privy to the most embarrassing thing about him (the green room shenanigans did not hold a candle to his pathetic heartbreak story if he had anything to say about it). So, he decided to save it for another time. He'd already decided in his head that he'd want to see you again. Maybe he would take up Mingyu on his offer to join the 97's as an honorary member.
The conversation eventually circled back to something more lighthearted, allowing Wonwoo to enjoy your company for a few more hours before Mingyu decided it was time for them to leave, knowing his friends probably had busy days tomorrow, just like any idol would.
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Wonwoo couldn't sleep. The effects of the alcohol were fully gone by now; his loose tongue tightened back up and his mood regulated once again. Despite that, his mind was still clouded with thoughts of you. He had originally chalked it up to alcohol, how he felt a strange sense of disappointed upon having to bid his goodbye to you earlier tonight. But, lying in bed many hours later, he realized it was all still in his head. Your long-winded conversation, the drinks you shared together, the genuine care in your eyes, even Mingyu's stupid smirk as they walked back into their apartment, muttering something along the lines of 'I knew you'd have fun'. It was all still running around in his head, depriving him of sleep. He felt an odd sense of anxiousness. Excitement, maybe? He wasn't sure. He was looking forward to finding out though.
-
The next day was filled with schedules. A quick appearance at a comeback show in the morning, followed by a fitting back at the Hybe building, along with a few hours of practice with the boys. He'd always enjoyed hectic days like this. While tiring, they kept his mind occupied, and allowed him to spend the day with some of the people he treasured the most. Seeing carats early in the morning was also a treat. Even if for only a few minutes, walking past the crowd of people waiting for his arrival at MNET was always nice. It made him put a face (well, multiple) to the people who loved him most.
He was now ending his day, just as soon as it had started, when he heard a voice call to him from across the long hallway. Turning around, he found ... you? you! what were you doing here?
"Wonwoo! Wait up!", you quickly caught up to him as he halted his movements in order to wait for you. You two then began walking together.
"Hey ? What are you doing here?"
You stopped. "Really? Wonwoo! I work here? My group's been here for a few months now, did you never notice? Hybe acquired my company last year," despite your shock at his ignorance, there was no actual anger or annoyance in your voice.
He felt kind of bad. You'd spent grand part of last night letting Wonwoo know how much attention you'd paid to Mingyu's retellings of Wonwoo's problems only for him to not know the most basic of things about you. It really wasn't that big of a deal, but it was with small details like this that his ex began to pull away.
"Oh, wait, Wonwoo. I'm not actually mad, I'm sorry. I just assumed you already knew," his face must've told on him. He had to admit that he was kind of paranoid after what had happened. He'd already ruined a few friendships (along with the relationship) with his lack of attention to the people around him. He didn't want to add you to the list of failed relationships so soon.
"Ah. Sorry. I don't really keep track of those things too often. I'm too distracted sometimes."
"I get you. There's too many new groups at Hybe for you to have noticed anyway. Anyways! Are you done for the day?"
He felt his heart accelerate at the thought of you wanting to know what his future whereabouts would be.
"Uh, yeah. I was heading home actually?"
"What? Nooo! Mingyu's taking Jungkook and I out to a little discreet pub he knows. You should come with. Please. They're so annoying when Dongmin's missing," you pleaded, making eyes at him.
You wanted him to come? You were inviting him? He hadn't really gone out for a few weeks (since he began to see people speak of his 'pre-debut ex-girlfriend' that everyone assumed was still in the picture). He had to admit, he found it kind of funny how carats would whine at the idea of him being taken. That was kind of the silver lining; a slight lift to his bad mood surrounding it. He-
"Wonwoo? It's okay if you don't wanna come. I don't wanna pressure you!"
Oh, shit. He was in his head again. He needed to break these habits if he wanted to work on his people skills.
"Oh, sorry. No, I was thinking of something else, sorry," he chuckled awkwardly, "I .. yeah, I'd love to come," he found himself agreeing.
Wonwoo was not an awkward man by any means. His fans and many others knew him as a charming guy, which he really was. He was just going through a weird period in his life. That and you made him nervous for some reason.
"Great,"you smiled back at him, further increasing the speed of his heart.
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Wonwoo was extra exhausted after today's events, not being used to outings with people outside of his members after already tiresome days. For some reason, his social battery always drained almost immediately when around people he wasn't too familiar with, and tonight he'd chosen to spend the night at a pub full of strangers. But, hey, at least you were there.
Once more, you and Wonwoo found yourselves in one-on-one conversation. Although Mingyu had been slightly surprised to see his friend arrive with you at the selected meeting spot at the pub, he gave Wonwoo a knowing smile, glad to have his friend out of the house once again.
The goodbye was, again, dreadful for Wonwoo. He didn't know what was wrong with him. He wasn't usually someone to get attached so easily, but your name just called to his ever since that first time he met you. This time had worsened his condition. You drank together, exchanged numbers, maybe even flirted(?) a little, and then went your own ways, sharing a quick hug as you departed.
He hated to rush things (even if it was only in his head), but he had to admit to himself that he liked you. Yeah, like that. He felt like a teenager again; giddy at the thought of you, crushing on the pretty girl his friend introduced him to. He had unofficially sworn off dating two years ago when he broke up with her, but it wasn't like that was too big of an effort considering his dating market as an idol wasn't very expansive anyways. He also didn't want to assume things. You were just a friend. But you were also so pretty, and nice, and you had so much in common with him, you even shared a career! You were just his type, he realized. He wondered why you hadn't dated any of the 97's before. Wait, maybe you had a boyfriend. One Wonwoo, of course, wouldn't know about since you'd just met. Fuck. There he went again, letting his mind spiral over the smallest of things. He needed to give himself a break and just enjoy your friendship. Enjoy the good things he had instead of thinking of the bad. That had been a struggle lately.
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You and Wonwoo continued to meet occasionally like that. Eventually meeting almost daily at the company. You'd stop by his practice room to hang out during work, and vice versa. He also found himself begging Mingyu to let him join in on his outings, wanting to see you even after work. He tried to be casual about it, but as soon as his smug friend realized the reason behind Wonwoo's sudden interest, he teased him endlessly about it, making jokes like 'But you're a 98-liner, why would you wanna hang out with us kids?,' a smirk glued to his face. He hadn't told Mingyu about his crush (nor would he ever admit to it), but Mingyu's correct assumption of his feelings for you led his friend to try and become a bit of a matchmaker. He'd now taken a habit to purposely leaving you and Wonwoo alone, even dragging his other friends away when they'd try and make conversation in order to get the two of you together. He was embarrassed by this, but was even more embarrassed that he was kind of thankful for his friend's actions.
Wonwoo had been enjoying the time he got to spend with you alone. Like now. Mingyu had invited you, Dongmin, Jungkook and Jaehyun over to his (and Wonwoo's place), something that didn't tend to happen before since Mingyu had wanted to respect Wonwoo's privacy. This was your first time here. Your first time in Wonwoo's room (door open, of course) as he showed you some of his recent photography that he'd told you about in your previous meeting. Once more, he felt like a teenager as he showed you his art, giddy at your endless compliments towards his talent.
"Jesus. So many idols pick up photography as a hobby, but I'd never seen any of them be actually good at it. Wonwoo, these are amazing!", he heard compliments like this from fans and staff alike very often, but it just had a different effect when it came from you.
He wanted to deny you; be bashful about it and chuckle a polite disagreement to your compliment, but after getting to know you better these past few weeks, he knew that wouldn't fly with you, instead opting for a shy 'thank you' in response.
"I'm serious, Wonwoo. You should do a showing or something! Your fans would love it. And .. you should teach me also!", he loved how enthusiastic you always were. It reminded him a lot of his best friend. Maybe that's why he liked the both of you so much.
He turned his head to face you as you sat next to him on his bed, lap to lap. He hadn't realized how close you had been sitting to one another in order to look at his laptop screen. Before he could scoot away, you turned your head too, now having only a few inches between your faces.
You looked at each other without saying anything, Wonwoo's breath hitching. Any reasonable man would've pulled you in for a kiss as soon as he noticed your eyes trail down to his lips, clearly inciting him to do so. But Wonwoo wasn't a very reasonable man. He was a mess of unreasonable emotions, which led him to his first mistake.
Seeing as he wasn't doing anything, you seemed to become frustrated at his lack of action, leaning in instead of him. Now, that would've been perfect if Wonwoo were, you know, normal. But the end result was less than favorable. As you leaned in, he panicked, getting up from the bed in a rush and creating a very obvious space between you. Your eyes widened, and he caught a hint of hurt and embarrassment behind them at his actions before you quickly took control of your expression.
"I, uhh. It's getting late. You have an early morning, don't you?", fuck, why the hell was he saying that?! Was he kicking you out? Wonwoo kicked himself in his mind, but his mouth kept running against his will. "I have an early morning, maybe you should, uh .."
He caught that hurt in your eyes once more as you responded. "Oh, I .. Right. Sorry .. Yes, I do, actually. I should go now .. Thanks for showing me your pictures. Have a nice night, Wonwoo," you were being far too cordial with him, seemingly making it a point of using overly formal language when the two of you had agreed before to speak casually; as friends.
He fucked it up. Again.
He watched you leave without stopping you. He had every chance to as you looked back at him one more time before exiting his room. He had another chance as he heard you close the front door to his apartment. He could've ran after you (even speed-walking would've sufficed, really), but he stood there like an idiot.
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Wonwoo was right. He was incapable of love. Romantic love, at least. He still had many friends and a loving family back home, but he had been right to believe himself unlovable after his ex had left him. Turns out she was right. It was all his fault.
A few weeks had gone by since he last saw you. The text messages between you now unexistent, and the chance for reconciliation dying further every passing day. You hadn't tried to contact him after what happened, nor did you wait outside his practice room every day as you had taken a habit of doing a few weeks into your friendship. Mingyu's invites to hang out with his friends were now left unattended by Wonwoo, not wanting to sour your free time with your friends with his presence. He'd ruined everything, he admitted to himself. It was obvious to him and everyone else that your friendship had begun to blossom into something more. There had been hints here and there of your reciprocation of his feelings, but they terrified him, so he chose to ignore them.
He thought about his feelings, but not yours, he had come to realize a few days after the fact.
He had wanted to kiss you so badly. He'd dreamt about it, even. He felt silly to admit this, but you'd become such a constant in his life in such a short period of time that he found it easy to imagine you there forever now. He felt the same way he did back in high school when he believed himself to be in love with his ex. He realized now that those feelings for her had dissipated quickly after his debut. They'd only been together for so long due to the familiarity of it. Maybe that's why his ex had such a hard time breaking off things with him. Maybe that's why she chose to cheat on him instead. Maybe that familiarity was what made the situation such a mess in the first place.
He had gotten out of his slump thanks to you (and Mingyu, maybe), but now he had fallen right back into it, even worse this time.
It didn't take long for his roommate to notice his friend's absences in their outings, or the stark difference in his mood as soon as he got home every day from being an idol. Mingyu had the privilege (not really) of seeing how whatever happened between you took effect on the both of you. He saw his best friend fall back into his previous depressive state, while he saw you become a shell of yourself. He didn't know what happened, and he honestly didn't care. No one asked for his help, but he was going to give it anyways.
By some act of god, Mingyu was able to convince Wonwoo to leave their apartment long enough to participate in an upcoming outing once more. He had promised that the only other attendee would be Jungkook, as the plan was to have some drinks at the man's house. Other than you, Wonwoo had taken a special liking to Jungkook, having many things in common with him. Wonwoo had only agreed to attend in order to lessen any suspicion Mingyu may have had about the reason behind his current low mood, but he was also happy to see one of his new friends again.
Unfortunately for Wonwoo, Mingyu was a meddler. He wasn't entirely sure why he was even surprised at seeing you walk across Jungkook's front door as he sat on one of his couches, drink in hand. An unsuspecting Jungkook let you in, not taking notice of your shocked face at spotting Wonwoo just a few meters away. Wonwoo should've known that Mingyu would get involved sooner or later. He wasn't sure if he was thankful or annoyed at his friend's nosy nature.
Despite your initial shock, you were polite with Wonwoo. You interacted as you used to before the two of you had gotten to know one another. Just a few nods and tight smiles. It killed him inside a little bit. He wanted to fix things; to at least get your friendship back even if he couldn't allow himself more. He would sneak glances at you as you joked and drank with your two friends, feeling a smile grace his face at your laughter. At least you were happy, he thought.
The four of you eventually ended up in one of Jungkook's many guest rooms. This one was a viewing room, as he called it. Special for whenever he wished to invite friends over for a movie. You all sat and shared some commentary at what was playing on screen. To any outsider, this would've looked like the perfect outing. And maybe it was to Mingyu and Jungkook. But the air between you and Wonwoo still felt tense, even despite the occasional nod of acknowledgement you'd make to one another whenever your eyes met.
In a very unpredictable turn of events, Mingyu had managed to get you and Wonwoo in a room alone, dragging Jungkook away under the excuse of doing an impromptu live for his fans. He knew Jungkook wouldn't miss the chance. You and Wonwoo sat next to each other in the now empty movie room, neither of you making a move. He saw you looking at your hands from his peripheral, solemn look on your face. You were usually very talkative and lively. He felt terrible at how his presence in your life had caused such a stark difference in your demeanor. So, he did what he usually wouldn't do, and spoke up first.
"I .. How have you been?"
Great way to break the silence, Wonwoo.
You sat in silence for a beat or two, "Wonwoo, it's fine. We don't have to do this. I'm already embarrassed enough as it is."
Embarrassed? Why would you be embarrassed?
"Embarrassed? At what?"
"Do I really have to say it? I thought I read things right. I thought maybe you might've maybe liked me back. I didn't .. I didn't mean to ruin our friendship over some stupid kiss.," you wouldn't look into his eyes as you spoke, even as he uncharacteristically stared at you with all his attention.
"You ... You didn't do anything wrong. I should've talked to you. Fuck. I should've apologized. I wanted to. Kiss you, I mean. I panicked. It was so soon. I didn't want to pressure you," he had gotten up now, now sitting next to you on the couch.
"Pressure me? I kissed you. Well, tried to ..." you finally turned to look at him in his new proximity. Okay, progress, "I'm sorry, I kind of had an idea of what you were going through and still pushed you. It hurt me that you froze me out like that, but if it was what you felt like you needed to do, then I understand," you said with a sad smile that didn't meet your eyes.
God, why were you so understanding? He felt like an asshole. He was an asshole. Freezing you out was not something he wanted to do to you, but the result of his cowardice. He knew he had hurt you, but your admission to it only made him feel worse.
"You didn't do anything wrong! You- you did what I wanted to do that night. What I was going to do before I backed out like a coward. I wish I'd handled things differently. I wish I'd kissed you .. I-" he was beginning to feel shy at his almost-direct admissions of his feelings towards you, but he needed to continue. He was going to continue, but you had different plans.
As per usual, you knew him better than he did himself. You knew exactly how to salvage the situation without making him open up more than he felt comfortable with doing in his current emotional state. You grabbed his face, interrupting his speech, and ..
You kissed him.
"Like that?", you'd softly asked against his lips.
It was nothing like you'd see in movies. Just a small peck accompanied by your soft hands holding onto his cheeks.
You began to pull away almost immediately, too soon for Wonwoo's comfort. But that kiss had been enough for him to finally snap into action like he should've done weeks ago.
He grabbed you this time, pulling your lips against his again, putting much more into the kiss this time.
He'd never kissed someone like this. He'd kissed many people after his breakup. Hell, he'd done far more than kissing. But none of those moments held a candle to this one. Nothing compared to your soft moans against his lips, or the feeling of your pliant back against his palm. Nothing defeated the feeling of your hands restlessly looking for a place in his body to hold on to. He kissed you with every emotion that had been piling up since you two began to really get to know each other. No, since he first began to spiral into his depressive state. There was not a single emotion in Wonwoo's body that didn't go into that kiss.
Then came other stuff.
Wonwoo hadn't really thought about the sexual aspects of his attraction to you. Other than a few of the restless nights spent alone in his room, you in mind. As he kissed you, however, he couldn't help but begin to feel aroused. You were so pretty and so so soft against his arms. You had both begun to lean down, with his body hovering over yours, holding his body weight above you as not to crush you. You kissed mindlessly for a few minutes, at some point beginning to moan messily against each other's mouths.
Your tongue eventually came out to play with his, making him lightheaded at the sudden wetness of the kiss. You both began to feel dizzy, arousal clouding your minds. Wonwoo tried to pull away, wanting to confirm if what was happening was okay with you, but you wouldn't let him. Instead you pulled him even closer, forcing him all the way on top of you, your crotches now face to face. He decided to take the risk and begin a slow grind against you, which proved rewarding as you began to mewl against his lips, allowing his tongue to roam freely inside your mouth.
Then came even more stuff.
"Wo-wonwoo, please."
God, there was no way he would make it if that's how you sounded after just some light dry humping.
He managed to actually unglue himself from you this time; eyes lidded and breath heavy.
"Baby .. let me .. can I?", he questioned, hands approaching your nether area.
You grabbed his wrist, walking him the rest of the way, nodding desperately as you pressed his hand against your clothed cunt.
"Please, yes. I need you."
He undid the drawstring from your sweats, you aiding him in lowering your sweats just below your ass.
He neared you as much as possible as he began to rub your cunt over the thin fabric of your panties, kissing and biting at your neck as you mewled at the friction. He did this for a while until he decided to bury two of his fingers inside your cunt, making sure to rub your clit lightly with his thumb. He calculated his movements, wanting to go for a slow and steady pace that would have you lightheaded.
You moaned and whined at that, your body not knowing what to do at the pleasure Wonwoo was giving you.
He began to speak against your neck, praising your beauty and the way you oh so prettyly cried for him.
"Wonwoo .. oh, fuck Wonwoo please. Please ..." he wasn't sure what you were begging for, but he wanted more of it. So he sped up, wanting nothing more than to hear your cries of pleasure as he fingered you to completion.
Upon meeting your high, you disconnected from one another, still holding a very close proximity as you shyly smiled at each other. He helped you clean up the slight mess you had made on the couch under you, pulling your sweats all the way back up and helping you get on your feet. Neither of you said anything as he guided you out of Jungkook's apartment, not bothering to say goodbye to your friends. You both knew what you wanted with just a few looks at one another.
You then found yourselves in Mingyu's car. How Mingyu was going to get home, Wonwoo didn't know nor care. Payback for meddling, Wonwoo guessed. All he wanted now was to take you home and show you how much you meant to him.
He had his left hand on the wheel while the other held your hand over the console. You both felt giddy at the small displays of affection you'd been showing each other, sharing shy smiles and blushing at catching the other staring. It was kind of funny considering your current destination. It was all mostly wordless until your fast arrival to Mingyu and Wonwoo's shared apartment, where you both finally stopped to speak before entering the door.
"Wonwoo, wait," you stopped him before he was able to put his key in the lock.
"What's wrong?"
You seemed uneasy. Maybe this was too soon? Had he gone too far by what he did in Jungkook's house? Fuck. Okay, maybe fingering you in your friend's house while your friends were in the other room right after confessing to you (did he even confess ??) wasn't the best idea for a reconciliation. Maybe he should'v-
"Are you sure about this? I .. I don't wanna pressure you ..."
You were far too considerate of his feelings for his own good. But he didn't care about his feelings right now. He cared about yours. Because if you were happy, then he was happy. He just wanted you.
He turned his body to face you, grabbed both of your hands and squeezed lovingly. He no longer felt that sense of anxiousness when speaking his feelings to you. He felt at ease, and he wanted you to also.
"I'm sure. I want you. Anything you'll give me. If you want to go past that door and just let me hold your hand, I'll take it. If you want me to drive you back home, I'll do it. If you want to tell me off for making you wait for me to grow the balls to show you how I felt, I'll understand that too. Forget about my pace. It's been enough about me. I want to think about you. It's all about you," he finished his little speech feeling not an ounce of bashfulness, but rather an uncharacteristic sense of relief. He felt more than content at freely telling you how he was feeling.
You smiled up at him. "It's always about you for me, Wonwoo."
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It took a bit of convincing from you, really. Repeating over and over again pleas and words of affirmation to ease his mind. He felt bad. He did say this was all about you. Which is why he'd insistently denied you when you first walked across the door, hand in hand, and immediately begged to suck his dick. He was caught off guard at first. He wanted to take care of you for once, not the other way around. You'd argued that he already had, insisting that he'd be doing you a favour by letting you get his cock in your mouth. Now, that .. that had gotten an involuntary reaction out of him. He couldn't help himself. You were a pretty girl - now his pretty girl - practically begging to get his dick wet. Batting your eyelashes at him and running your hands up and down his chest, muttering words such as "you'll let me take care of you, won't you?", or "i just wanna make you feel good," or his favorite "just a little bit, baby, want it so bad. been dreaming about it .."
That's how he now had you on your knees as he stood with his back against his front door, hands holding your hair out of your face as you tortured him with your tongue. You had prepared him by rubbing his dick for a minute or so, then moving onto kitten licking his tip and running your tongue ever so slowly up and down the protruding veins. You were taking your time, clearly enjoying his stuttered breaths above you.
You finally wrapped your mouth around him, sucking and licking at the tip, making all thought in his mind leave him immediately. He threw his head back against the wall at the pressure and warmth of your mouth, groaning out your name.
"Fuck .. just like that. Shit, I-fuck," there was no proper sentence that could leave his mouth as you fully enveloped his cock in your mouth, moaning around it.
Then he made the mistake of looking down, staring directly into your eyes, which were rolled back in pleasure, brows furrowed in concentration as you gave him your best performance. He hadn't known pleasure like this in ages, staring down at your pretty face as you lost yourself in the pleasure of the weight of his cock on your tongue.
You continued like this, doing everything that seemed to get a reaction out of him until drawing him almost to completion.
"Shit, baby, I'm gonna cum. You gotta- fuck. Baby, wait. Wanna fuck you ..." he tried to stop you, not wanting to cut the night short before he could get you as close as physically possible to him, your walls warmly wrapped around him. The thought did not help matters, as he felt his end approach even sooner. You also did not seem to care, as you fastened your movements and moaned even louder against him, vibrations triggering his impending orgasm. You swallowed every bit he gave you, humming at the taste.
You must be evil, he thought, watching you continue to lightly suck and lick at him even past completion, not caring that he half-heartedly tried to push you away from the slight overstimulation. When you finally pulled away, he held your hands in order to get you back up to your full height, eyes glued to your lips. He couldn't help himself. He felt depraved at the thought, but he needed to taste you and the remnants of himself twirling in your tongue. So he did what any sensible man would do, and shoved his tongue in your mouth, intertwining yours and his as he sucked his remaining juices out of your mouth and gave them back to you as he dragged your tongue back and forth. You moaned loudly into his mouth, growing restless at the lack of pleasure where you needed him most.
You pulled away, and wordlessly gave him eyes that could only mean one thing. Your eyes always got to him. One look and he'd give you whatever you wanted, so he promptly held your hand once more and led you to his room, laying you down on his bed and slowly undressing you. He wanted to savour every part of your body he'd been dying to see. Every article of clothing he removed, he caressed the skin behind. He faced you away from him and felt you up from behind, running his hands up and down your body as you pressed yourself even more against him, dizzy at the pleasure of his hands against you. He fondled your breasts and ass, wanting to commit them to memory. You moaned at the way he touched you, enticing him to continue. After a while of worshiping your body, he laid you back down, your body now facing him, and undressed himself.
He felt a strong sense of pride at the moan the sight of his bare chest pulled out of you. Your hands drew themselves towards him as you ran them up and down his chest, forming goosebumps anywhere your fingertips graced. He finally lowered himself down and pressed your chests together, wanting to be as close as possible.
"You're so beautiful," he whispered, as if it was a secret no one could ever know, "You're all mine now. Never letting you go again", he began to grind his bare length against you, now hard again against your folds.
You whined at his actions, mind clouded by his words of affection. "Nonu ... please. I need it. Need you, just- Argh! Fuck ..." he swiftly entered you, interrupting your pleas for him.
God, you felt so tight and warm around him. Your body so pliant and soft against his. He had never felt more bliss than when you arched your back and pressed your tits against his chest, harshly digging your nails on his shoulders as you moaned out his name.
Pleasure overtook his mind, making him wax poetic at you endlessly, letting out his deepest of feelings for you.
"Want you always. Can't breathe without you."
"Never wanna be away from you again. You're everything."
"Gonna keep you ... keep you close to me. Just like this ..."
Then came something not even he expected himself to utter.
"L-love you. Fuck. So much. Is it too soon? I love you. Never felt like t-fuck .. like this before."
His words seemed to have an instant effect on you, as you tightened impossibly harder around him, crying his name as your orgasm suddenly hit you. The tightening of your walls, along with knowing the effect he had on you, brought Wonwoo to his end almost immediately after, claiming his orgasm on your stomach as he pulled out with a high whine of your name.
A few minutes of cleaning you up later and Wonwoo found the both of you under his covers, you laying your head on his shoulder as you wrapped your arms around one another, softly running his hands up and down your arm. No words exchanged between the two of you.
As per usual, you broke the silence, turning yourself to face his side while still in his hold. He mirrored your actions, holding you even closer as you stared into each other's eyes, shy smiles on your faces.
"I love you too. It's not too soon. I love you, Wonwoo."
Your words took his breath away once more. What he had confessed in the throes of passion was being reciprocated. He hadn't shared the three words with anyone ever since his break up. His breakup, which had been the furthest thing from his mind ever since he had realized his feelings for you.
You fell asleep like that; holding each other tightly and muttering words of affection at each other every so often until sleep won you over. Wonwoo had never had such peaceful sleep, having never had the pleasure of holding someone he cared so much about in his sleep.
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The news broke out quickly. Not to the public, of course, but to Mingyu, who had found you in bed the next morning when he'd noticed your absences last night, rushing home worried that maybe his plan to get you two to talk had backfired. Safe to say that Mingyu smugly took credit over your reconciliation (he might've deserved maybe a 15% of the credit). Then the news broke out to the 97 liners, who happily welcomed Wonwoo back into the group under the name of honorary 97-liner. Then his group mates found out, along with yours. They were all very accepting, having noticed your feelings for one another before you even did. Finally, the news broke out to your shared company. This was the trickiest one, but your insistence in the validity of your love for one another was able to triumph over any obstacles.
It had now been a few months since that fateful night, the words I love you being uttered between the two of you daily. Even as you worked your busy idol schedules and had distance put between you every once in a while, your relationship prospered, giving Wonwoo a new sense of what being loved truly was. He no longer felt like his ex had been right about him being unlovable. You had taught him to know better, while he showed you the same care in return.
Wonwoo no longer winced at the mentions of his 'pre-debut girlfriend', but even laughed along at the memes his fans made about their favorite idol being taken. Now knowing that, yes, he was taken, but had something even better now; you.
1K notes · View notes
turtletaubwrites · 3 months
Text
Sweet Abduction ~ Part 1
Thank you anon for this super cute request! I loved the idea, and I hope you enjoy the fic!
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Pairings: Charlotte Katakuri x Fem!Reader
Word Count: 4084
Ao3 Link
Summary: Times are tough, and you're afraid you'll have to give up the family business, until you find people who cherish your work. Who knew making doughnuts would gain you the attention of an Emperor of the Sea, and her second son? Will your new life be as sweet as it seemed?
Rating/Warnings: SFW, AFAB!Reader, She/Her Pronouns for Reader, Reader-Insert, Fluff, Grief, (reader's dad has passed and she thinks about him a lot), Arranged Marriage, Forced Marriage, Kidnapping, Minor Violence (hardly anything, just being grabbed by the arms briefly), Kissing, No Smut, Human/Monster Romance, He's freaking 16 ft tall, Reader is too sweet for this world
A/N: Turns out Katakuri is over 16 ft tall. I stuck with canon, hope you don't mind! Please heed the tags! This is very sweet romance type fluff, but there is some kidnapping and shit, so be wary 😅
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Your body naturally woke you in the quiet, early morning light, but you still felt like you were in a bad dream.
After all your years of struggling to get by, of trying to make a living off the only skills you had, you still had nothing. You had kept your dad’s shop running, learning all you could, trying to honor his memory. But now that he’s gone, prepping these early mornings alone felt like losing him all over again.
Especially since hardly anyone in this town could afford to waste their berries on sweets.
Even buying ingredients for one day's batch was brutal.
I’m sorry, dad. I don’t want to sell your shop. Please, I wish you were here to tell me what to do.
You blinked back your tears as you started frying the morning's first batch of doughnuts.
Falling into your rhythm, you glazed and displayed each doughnut with care. Still taking pride in your work, you treated each pastry with love, even though they would probably be wasted. 
You gave a little yelp as the tiny bell on the shop’s door chimed.
Your mouth hung wide as you looked at the two potential customers. Shaking yourself, you greeted them, turning on your customer service charm.
‘The best way to keep a customer is to show them you really care.’
Your dad’s sweet voice filled your mind, and you smiled, genuinely hoping that these people would have a wonderful day. And that if they tried your doughnuts, it might make their day even brighter. 
The two strangers made their way to the display case, reviewing the little menu above the counter, and they asked you detailed questions that surprised you. 
You had been too busy trying to make sense of the colorful, almost outrageous way they dressed, that it took you a second to realize how excited they seemed to be here. 
They can’t be from around here. Everyone here is too poor to be that colorful.
You pinched your wrist at the sour thought, reminding yourself of your dad’s view of the world. He’d tell you to focus on the good things happening right now.
The two customers ordered four doughnuts each, and you carried their plates to the dingy little table in the corner, filling their cups with coffee.
The urge to stare was almost too powerful. It had been so long since someone new came to enjoy your work. 
They smacked their lips, and licked their fingers, and their bright eyes warmed your heart. 
‘There’s nothing better than watching someone enjoy the work you put your heart into.’ 
You cleared your throat, turning away from them as you wiped away a tear at your dad’s words in your mind.
“Ooh, Mama’s gonna enjoy this,” the taller one hissed in a mock whisper.
“Excuse me,” the other patron called, waving you over. 
You wiped flour off your hands, grabbing the pot of coffee. You felt their eyes on you, feeling examined as you refilled their cups.
“Is there anythi–”
“How would you like a sponsorship to open a shop in the sweetest capital of the world?”
“... I’m sorry. What did you–”
The tall one grabbed your wrist, eyes almost manic as he leaned toward you.
“We’re scouts, you see. We’re from Totto Land, and we’ve been looking for someone with your talents. Everything will be taken care of. We already have a doughnut shop that's just waiting for an artist like you.”
Your eyes were so wide it was almost painful, and part of you told you to run from these strangers. 
‘Don’t fight miracles, sweetheart. Sometimes good people really do get good things.’
“Okay,” you stuttered, following your dad’s advice one more time. 
You had heard the name Big Mom before, seen her wanted poster. She didn’t seem like a real person when you were struggling in your run down town. 
And you thought that Emperors of the Sea were meant to be terrifying, almost demonic. 
But here you were on her archipelago, her myriad of islands filled with so many happy people. So many people who love what you do.
It's surreal! 
You’d been given a doughnut shop on Komugi Island, along with a beautiful apartment above the shop. You wanted to explore and meet people, but you couldn’t think of closing the shop for even a day. 
All the ingredients you could dream of, equipment that you’d never seen before, and a dining area inside and outside with plenty of tables so you could enjoy the happy noises people made when they ate your doughnuts and pastries. 
It was heaven. It felt like your dad was there with you, kneading the dough, pouring the coffee. You could almost hear his laugh, his silly songs that he used to hum.
It felt like home.
After a few days, you noticed that the shop cleared out a little before lunchtime. You had been having a steady stream of customers all day since the day you opened, but now it was empty. You tried to remind yourself that things wouldn’t always be that busy, and that it didn’t mean anything.
I guess I’m just worried, dad. I want to do well here. I want to stay.
You had a pile of plates in one hand as you wiped down a table outside.
“Good afternoon,” boomed a deep voice from above, and your ankle shifted against the stone tiles.
You were slipping, trying and failing to keep a grip on the porcelain plates.
Then a huge, warm hand held you steady, and your mouth gaped at the sight of another gloved hand catching the plates before they fell.
“I’m so sorry,” you choked out, heart racing.
Shifting away to look at your new patron, you steadied yourself, pressing your palm against the warmth beside you.
Your breath hitched as your hand touched firm leather. You stumbled back a step, and he grabbed your shoulder to steady you, before setting the dishes on the table, and towering over you.
“I apologize. I should have waited until you set down the plates.”
The deep, measured voice made you shiver as you looked up at the man it belonged to. 
He was so tall. Insanely tall.
Is he a giant?
He sat down beside the shop on what you just now realized was a bench, made for someone his size.
Realizing how rude you were being, you cleared your throat, giving him a smile.
“No need to apologize. Thank you so much for saving my plates!”
You dipped your head, letting your eyes go wide as you looked at the ground after getting a better look at him. 
He had deep crimson hair, with eyes to match. Those intense eyes were framed with arched brows, and eyelashes so dark and thick that you could see them from where you were.
You brought your head back up to meet those eyes, and you bobbed on your toes as you tried not to gape at the rest of him. 
You’d never seen anyone like him before. He wore a layered scarf that draped around his shoulders, covering his neck, and the lower half of his face. 
Below the scarf was an expanse of muscle, pink tattoos accentuating his chiseled abs. His leather vest covered nothing, but it matched the leather across the rest of his body, belts, straps, and spikes giving you so much to look at.
Then you looked back at his eyes, and realized you’d been staring.
“I–I am so sorry. I’m new here, and my head is a little off still. Would you like me to bring you a menu?”
He hardly spoke while he was there, but his gaze felt heavy and warm. Thankfully, no one else came by to witness you making a fool out of yourself. 
He made a huge order, and you packed three large boxes to the brim.
Your dad would have been so happy in that moment. You could picture his smile. Practically hear his voice.
‘Look, sweetheart. Your love is gonna touch all those people that eat your sweets. Isn’t that just lovely?’
“Are you afraid?”
“What,” you choked out, quickly brushing a tear from your eye as you thought of your father.
He’d taken the boxes from you after paying, but now his brows were furrowed as he looked down at you.
“Oh my– oh no! I’m sorry,” you panicked, realizing what he meant.
“I wasn’t crying because of– I was just thinking about my dad. He would have been really happy with your order. You picked all his favorites!”
He stiffened, one of his gloved hands flexing on his knee.
Clearing his throat, he stood, his height leaving you speechless again. 
“Thank you, miss. Have a pleasant day.”
“... Th-Thank you! Please, come again soon!”
You were waving at his back, and he froze for a moment at your words. But he kept walking, finally leaving your sight. 
Slumping into one of the chairs, you felt the blood rushing through your body, your head feeling fuzzy after all of that. 
Then a line of customers started trickling back in, and you poured yourself into work. 
What an interesting place this is. 
~
He came back again. And again. And you always forgot to ask for his name. 
He never said much. He always ordered at least three boxes. And you always spaced out as you stared at him at least once before he left. 
Luckily he always seemed to come during a slow hour, catching you cleaning with no other customers to attend to.
You wanted to ask if he liked them. If he liked your dad’s favorite recipes. It seemed like a silly question, since he ordered so many every time.
But you liked his voice, and you thought it would sound really nice if he said it. 
You caught yourself grinning in the mirror at the thought as you got ready for the day.
I think I like it here.
“Good morning, miss Y/N!”
You had just stepped downstairs, morning light still not quite touching the world, but your shop was full of people.
“I… I’m sorry. The shop’s not open yet. But I’m happy to share my pot of coffee with you if you’re willing to wait on the doughnuts!”
You felt extra grateful that you’d dressed for the day before coming downstairs.
“Thank you dear, but you’ll be coming with us.”
A tall, thin woman moved toward you, a rough scar bisecting her face, and you clenched your fist to stop yourself from recoiling. It was too damn early for someone who looked like a gnarled old witch to break in and threaten you.
Is she threatening me?
“Sorry, uh,” you said awkwardly as you moved behind the counter. “I’ve got a lot of doughnuts to get started for the day.”
“Not today, sweetie,” the witch-like woman said, her reddish nose bobbing as she shook her head.
“I don’t– Did I do something wrong?”
You shrank back against the wall as guards moved against you, gripping your arms.
“Not at all,” the woman nearly shrieked, failing to sound comforting. “In fact, you are being granted the highest of honors. You are about to become part of Big Mom’s family!”
You had been squirming only slightly, not really fighting against the men holding and moving you. But now you slumped, confusion hurting your brain too much to keep steady.
“What do you mean? What’s happening,” you asked, panic building in your throat the closer they got you to the door. 
“You have been chosen to wed the shining star of the Charlotte family. Our strongest warrior, a man whose back has never touched the ground. My perfect big brother, Charlotte Katakuri!”
Your mouth hung open as she continued, her voice manic, louder with each word. She may as well have been speaking another language. 
She pointed a long, twig-like arm at you, and you tried to clear your head to understand.
“You can call me Brulee, sister in law. Tomorrow you will become Charlotte Y/N.” 
You stood, frozen and dizzy.
“Come now, lots to do, sister,” she tutted, snapping her fingers.
“But why? Why me?”
She reared on you, her red nose inches from yours.
“You’re special, of course. You were chosen. And you’d better learn not to question Mama.”
“Please,” you pleaded, twisting against the guard's hold. “I don’t–”
“Don’t question mama! And don’t even think about refusing her.”
The guards tightened their grip, leading you toward the door.
“Wait!”
“Don’t res—”
“Please change the sign! Please let my customers know I’ll be gone, I don’t want them to wait out there for me.”
Brulee frowned at you, but had one of the guards write a note, hanging it on the door.
“Thank you,” you sighed with relief, giving her a grateful smile.
She frowned again.
You didn’t resist, and the guards let you walk freely. You felt the stares of citizens on you, and watched a group of onlookers waving as the ship departed for the main island. 
Whole Cake Island. 
It was incredible. The sounds, the colors, the smells! Excited locals rushing around, as if preparing for something big. 
Like a wedding.
Brulee spent the travel time regaling you with stories of her brother. 
The second son of the Big Mom Pirates. One of the Three Sweet Commanders. The Minister of Flour who governs over your new home, Komugi Island.
“When he was born he stood straight up, and slept on a chair. His back has never touched the ground. He’s never laid down, and never been knocked down either.”
“That sounds tiring,” you muttered under your breath, but she turned, grasping your wrist.
“Not to my brother. He’s more than strong. He’s superhuman. He’s noble, and cool-headed. And you are going to be the perfect wife for my perfect brother. Got it?”
“I-I got it.”
She released your arm, and you tried to fight your nerves, but you couldn’t stop shaking. 
You were led through a massive castle that looked like, or was it a cake? The ceilings were so massive, you had to crane your neck to see them.
Brulee left the guards outside, leading you into a gorgeous bedroom, with an extravagant bathroom, and at least ten servants carrying all sorts of fabrics, powders, shoes, and more. 
You felt like you were in a whirlwind, just staying still and letting these strangers touch you, pamper you, fit the white dress to your body.
Now and then you’d pay attention to what they were saying between their giggles and demands. 
“She’s so lucky.” 
“I wish I could join the family.”
“I wonder if his children will be as perfect as he is?”
Finally, you were freed from their hands. Dinner was brought to your guarded room, and you watched the night fall.
You curled up in the luxurious bed, and sobbed silently. You caught yourself whispering under the blankets, eyes burning as you tried to make sense of it all.
“Dad, I’m sorry. I’m trying to see the good here. But I’m scared. I love this place. I love making people smile. But what if this man… What if my husband is a bad person? What if he’s mean? What if he doesn’t like me?”
Visions of terror filled your mind. If they could kidnap you for this, could they really be good people? This land seems so happy and prosperous, could this marriage be a good thing?
“Is this a miracle, dad? Should I let it happen, and hope for the best?” 
“Will they kill me if I try to run?” 
“I’m scared, dad. I wish you were here.”
Finally, your quiet sobs fell into slow breaths as sleep pulled you under.
Morning arrived, and the servants were buzzing with excitement as they prepared you for the wedding. You felt empty, hollow. They kept pinching your cheeks lightly, trying to wake you up, to convince you to be happy.
All you could manage was a weak smile as you looked at your reflection.
“You look beautiful, sister,” Brulee praised, patting your hand. “It’s almost time.”
She led you to a massive stone room, guiding you to a small bench before leaning over you. 
“Just wait here. It won't be long.”
She left, and you didn't turn to watch her go. You thought about running. There were no guards in this chamber. 
You bit your lip to keep from crying, afraid of what might happen to you if you ruined your makeup.
“Y/N…”
A choked gasp left your throat as you turned, looking for the owner of that deep voice.
Your favorite customer was there, his height looking almost normal in this massive room. He sat along the wall on a giant bench, leaning toward you.
“Oh, hello,” you practically squeaked, throat caught with unshed tears. “What are you doing here? I’m sorry I couldn’t make your order today!”
“Please,” he stopped you, holding out his gloved hands. You blinked at him, noticing that his normally black attire was white, somehow making his hair and tattoos stand out even more.
“What are you…”
“I’m sorry, Y/N. I shouldn’t have let this happen.” 
“Let what happen,” you asked, your mind moving so fast it felt like it was tripping over itself. You stood without meaning to, walking closer.
“You were brought to my island as a gift. For me.”
His dark eyes poured over you as you stood, silently waiting.
“I shouldn’t have told mama that I liked you. I tried to convince her to stop, but there’s no way to stop this without violence now. And I cannot hurt my family.”
Violence? 
Your heart beat in your chest like a bird, wings flapping desperately to escape a cage. 
“Mama is a decisive woman. When she makes her mind up on something, it will happen. I am usually the one to make it happen. Most of my siblings have their marriages arranged. I didn't…”
Regret tinged his voice, and you met his eyes.
“Why me?”
He looked away, sighing as he leaned back against the wall.
“My siblings brought you to my island because they thought I would enjoy your doughnuts. I happened to mention how much I’ve enjoyed your work, and your… company. So Mama has decided that you’ll be joining the family. That you and I will marry. In less than an hour.”
You’d never heard him say so many words at once, and his voice rolled over you while you tried to comprehend everything. Your mouth hung open as you stared at him.
“You must be frightened.”
He shifted on the bench, looking almost uncomfortable before he caught himself. He adjusted the movement, making it look deliberate. But you noticed.
He’s just a person.
“I think having a first date might have been nice,” you teased with a small smile. 
He stared down at you for a long moment, before his brows furrowed.
“You shouldn’t have to marry a monster.” 
“What do you mean,” you questioned, starting to feel lightheaded from everything.
“When we kiss, it will be over…”
“We’ll be married?” 
“No.”
You hadn’t thought his eyes could get any more intense, but they sure did. You stood, still as a statue, waiting for him to explain. 
“There’s something I have to show you.” 
Katakuri unraveled his scarf, slowly revealing the lower half of his face.
Your eyes went wide at the sight of his large mouth, scars stretching from ear to ear. Sharp teeth or fangs jutted out at the edges of his lips. 
Your first thought was that he did look like a monster.
‘You can’t tell somebody’s heart from the outside, sweetheart. Always give people a chance.’
“I’m sorry,” he mumbled, after you stood there too long, thinking of your dad’s voice.
You watched those huge hands start to drape the scarf, looking away from you as he covered his scars.
“Wait,” you commanded, voice almost too loud in the echoing room. You reached up to put your hand on his knee, shoving aside a brief thought about how things would work with his height.
“Will you be kind to me?” 
He paused his movements, face still uncovered. Your whole body rolled with warm shivers as he laid his hand on yours.
“I will be kind to you. And I will protect you.” 
“And you’ll tell me how much you like my doughnuts?”
An almost surprised huff left him, and you were pleasantly shocked to see his wide lips twitch up, a hint of a smile there. 
“I love your doughnuts. They make me very happy.” 
Your toes curled in your shoes as you grinned up at him
“Okay,” you nodded, dread shifting to excitement. “I guess we’re getting married then? Please, promise to be kind.” 
“I promise,” he agreed, head tilted as he looked at you, before wrapping his scarf back around. 
You were practically bouncing on your feet now, and your words came out high and fast.
“So, your name is Katakuri?”
“Yes.”
“Is it true you never lie on your back?”
“We’ll learn a lot of interesting things about each other later,” he promised, voice low as he patted you on the head.
“Right now we have somewhere to be.”
There were so many people. So much food, so many sweets. 
Big Mom was enormous, even taller than Katakuri. All of her children looked so different, so interesting. 
Everyone seemed happy.
I’ll choose to be happy too, dad. I just wish you were here with me.
The ceremony and vows flew by, and luckily you remembered what to say. Then the end arrived, and you realized that you didn’t know what to do.
“I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may start your marriage with a kiss!”
How am I supposed to kiss him?
Your question was answered as his large hand scooped down beside you. Looking into his face, you could have sworn he was smiling by the slight crinkling of his eyes.
A giggle left your lips as you nodded, and you gasped as he grabbed you gently around the waist, lifting you up.
You heard the cheers of his family as he turned away from the crowd, keeping his face from their sight.
“I am sorry, Y/N.”
His whisper made your heart ache for this strange man. He seemed so lonely, even with all of his family looking up to him. 
Maybe neither of us have to be lonely anymore.
You touched a hand to his cheekbone, and he seemed to freeze.
“Don’t be sorry, Katakuri. Let’s just be good to each other.”
You felt a hum move through him before he carefully pulled his scarf down, just enough, just for you.
He’s so big!
That thought hit you again, but you’d already decided. You were already his. You leaned forward, and kissed him between the sharp fangs at the edges of his mouth.
His lips were warm, and soft, and sweet.
You let out a hum of contentment, wiggling slightly in his grasp. He pulled back, covering his face, then he stared at you. 
“Hi,” you said softly, feeling your skin flush as you felt suddenly shy.
“Oh mama, mama,” Big Mom laughed, making him turn to face the party.
“My family is getting bigger and bigger! What a wonderful day. Let’s start with the cake!”
~
Katakuri didn’t join in on the fun, sitting on the edge as if keeping watch over his own wedding. Everytime you tried to talk to him, new in-laws would drag you away, light conversations and laughter hogging the day. 
Finally, you were ushered away, waving back at the crowd as your husband joined you. 
Instead of a carriage, you were carried away from your wedding on Katakuri’s shoulder, adjusting the scarf so that it would stay in place. 
A procession of onlookers applauded, calling his name. You even heard your own name once or twice. It felt like the entire island was cheering for you, and you were caught in the chaos of a world you never could have imagined. 
Your mind started racing as the wedding was over, the real world starting to return. A million questions tore through you, and you didn’t know where to start, until one came tumbling out.
“How are we going to sleep if you never lay on your back?”
He let out a sound that could have been a laugh as he kept moving toward your new home. 
“Don’t worry, Y/N. I’ll show you.”
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Likes and reblogs bring me much ✨dopamine✨ thank you so much!
a/n: Once again, I'm so happy to take requests! I probably wouldn't have thought to write for this big guy, but now I love this lil doughnut man. He's so sweet 😭😭 (Let me know if I should write the honeymoon... 😳)
Tag List: @shewrites02
Part 2
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| masterlist | about me | rules | ao3 | ko-fi |
478 notes · View notes
minhosimthings · 26 days
Text
love.
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Synopsis: in which Hyunjin comforts you on a hard day
Warnings: fluff fluff fluff, heavily self indulgent because I can, hurt/comfort, reader cries, mention of food
A/N: yay I did this finally it's out of my notes Woohoo! Idk when this idea came into my brain but it did and I couldn't stop thinking about it so now it's here. For my loves @chlorinecake and @astraystayyh they are my Hyunjins
Song rec: love by Wave to Earth
The weight of the world on your shoulders.
You had often heard that phrase as a child. It was ridiculous, initially.
The world can't possibly weigh that much.
You were the smartest in your class, you knew the multiplication tables by the time you were five, the capitals of the world by eight, and by fifteen, the weight of nothing but your own shoulders dragged you behind everyone.
University was an easy affair, that's what you told everyone. Someone's got to keep up the smart girl, book child status up right?
Studies were easy, just understand it, write it down better. Yet, fuck, you could feel the words fading by, was it a stalactite or a stalagmite?
Graduation was easy, you were peaking and nothing was in your way!
Then you realised something.
The world did weigh too much.
Everyone weighed too much.
Your mind weighed greater than your heart, something you fought off for eons now.
And diamonds are formed under pressure, but hadn't you learnt that diamonds turn into graphite every now and then too?
You were so smart as a child, what happened?, You wished ever so fervently that you could tell them that you weren't a child anymore.
No longer the child that thought the only thing that she needed to do to be loved was to get a good grade off her papers.
Or was that love starved part of you still inside?
"Rough day, love?"
Love. It was the nickname you most adored. Lucky for you nicknames were Hyunjin's personal favourite job.
"Fuck..." You swore softly, immediately collapsing onto your couch, and wrapping yourself into the warm cocoon that was your boyfriend's arms. You swore you would become a butterfly from your current catterpillar state one day.
The gruesome world always seemed to calm down on its axis of rotation as soon as you reached Hyunjin's touch. As if he was the petals of honeydew calming down the speed of a hummingbird. Would you have been the overactive bird rushing around to cater to the needs of everyone around her?
You could hear your own heartbeat in the moments of silence, when the dust seemed to still and the winds seemed to wait, eavesdropping on conversations old and new. The hauntedness of the thumping sound made you shiver.
The tightness around your throat felt tighter by the moment, like an invisible rope hanging round it. Your heart felt too heavy too for some reason. It's a heart, you tried to convince yourself, you need it to live. But you knew that you could rip it out of your chest at this moment, and you would still keep living on. But did you really have to-
"Want to talk about it, love?"
That was the straw that broke the camel's back.
A loud sob ripped through the thick air, coating the curtains of the atmosphere in a blueish paint that seemed to have rotted inside it's bucket far too long. Hyunjin was quick to bury your head further into his chest.
You know you smell really comforting?, that went on in his mind, the thing you said on your first cuddle session, in which, he remembered fondly, you described his scent a bit further than most people usually did.
Broken strings of words escaped your lips, I'm sorry—im so sorry! Guilt always flowed through your veins whenever anything like this happened.
But Hyunjin understood, he always understood. And fuck, you both hated and loved that he understood.
One hand lay on the back of your head, while his other caressed your back, rubbing circles on it. As if a magical void would appear and take all your problems away.
Hyunjin was your magical void.
"Can you talk to me?" Hyunjin asked quietly. He felt you shake your head against his shoulder, causing him to tighten his hold on you.
"It's going to be okay love. I promise you."
Another wave of tears surged through you, nearly making you double over at the rush of fresh emotions popping off in your brain, your jaw tensing as you tried to stifle the illegible babbling falling from your lips. 
Hyunjin's words in your ear and his hand rubbing ribbons of comfort onto your back made you catch your breath, and slow down. Silence rose once you had stopped crying, you felt even more tired now and you had to admit, Hyunjin was a nice pillow.
The occasional sniffle and tired breath from you, broke Hyunjin's heart even more. He hated seeing you cry, so much so, he'd always distract you if he ever sensed you were in a depressed mood. Even if there were times that you poured your entire heart out of him in tears, he'd always shed his own tears in private, sometime later.
"Love?"
"Hmm?"
"Want me to run you a bath?"
"With the candles and everything?" You managed to say in a quiet, exhausted voice. Your throat was tired from all the crying.
"With the candles and everything." Hyunjin smiled down at you, pushing back stray strands of your hair behind your ear, "Can we go up to the bedroom, love? Can we do that?"
He was speaking so softly to you, and it was making you want to sob rivers again.
Silently nodding, you felt yourself droop down all over again as soon as Hyunjin got you up, strong arm wrapped around your waist, hugging you to his side.
Pressing a sweet kiss to the side of your head, Hyunjin started with shuffling moments upto the bedroom, which you followed, not even being able to lift your head up from the pure exhaustion.
Sitting on the bed felt like you were hung down by iron nails, while Hyunjin prepared the bath for you. Even a moment without him felt down, and even if it was a bit dramatic , you were willing to admit it.
"Hands up?" Hyunjin looked at you softly, taking off your shirt for you and discarding it in the empty laundry basket, "You did the laundry yesterday? Wow, I'm proud of you baby."
You let out a breathy giggle at his words. Hyunjin somehow always knew every word in the instruction manual of how to make you laugh.
"Is the temp alright?"
You couldn't get yourself to say yes so you hummed what seemed to have been a 'yes'. Your throat was raw, and your face was congested as well as your chest. You sounded like you swallowed a frog, and the frog was also now sick and subsequently congested.
The water truly didn't have any texture or temperature to it when you got into it. The world felt numb again as you relaxed into the tub, which, evident from the scent, Hyunjin had filled with your favourite bath salts.
What seemed like a year's worth of time, passed in silence, as Hyunjin quietly stroked your skin with soap, was it the lavender one or the tea tree one? You couldn't tell, remembering how you often joked that both of them gave off the same perfuminous vapours and that Hyunjin should just buy one of them. The water seemed more mellow now.
"Love, look at me?" Hyunjin's voice broke you out of your seemingly never-ending stupor. Like it always did.
You turned your head and rested your eyes on Hyunjin's softened ones, and you felt that familiar tightening of your throat again.
"Hyun I-"
"Don't you dare apologise." Hyunjin said before you could even get a word out, "You never have to apologise to me. Not for this."
His hands were sickeningly sweet as they ran over your back, washing lathers of soap off of your back, his voice even more so.
“You deserve to relax, you know that right?" Hyunjin said, as he wrapped you up in your purple coloured towel, "“You did so well today and you do so well everyday and you deserve to rest for a while."
Hugging you into his arms again, Hyunjin provided you with a little den, a cave where you could settle into whenever you felt that you were too tired for a lion's hunt. And you were forever grateful to him for him.
"Now-" Hyunjin looked down at you with a cheeky smile, "You are not allowed to leave the bed until you finish every single cupcake I got you."
"You got me cupcakes?" Your lips broke into a smile, a genuine one this time, "What flavour?"
"Beef." Hyunjin joked, sending both of you into a frenzy of laughter, as you pressed a kiss against his nose, making it turn the touched skin like a tomato.
The one thing that you'd have never admitted to anyone when you were younger was the fact that you wanted to be loved. That was a silly notion to you.
But maybe now, under the watchful gaze of Hyunjin as he saw you devour the cupcakes, you'd admit it.
You'd want to be loved, even if it was another weight on your shoulder.
Maybe that'd be a weight you'd like to ephermally lift.
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risuola · 8 months
Note
Hi! How about exploring JJK characters as cop with this scenario hehe, ngl this is very Gojo coded for me
https://vt.tiktok.com/ZSLcR9FJ1/
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POLICEMAN — F. READER x GOJO SATORU
You get back home and see a mess. there was a break into your apartment and your first thought is to call your cop boyfriend.
a/n: i love the concept! thank you for the suggestion <3 i wrote it for gojo, because there’s never enough of this man and imagining him in the police uniform should be illegal, soooo…
cw: slightly angsty. other than that – none — 2k words
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“Police, what city?”
“Tokyo, I, uh…” you muttered through shaking breath and tears blinding your eyes. “There has been a break into my apartment, and I, um, I’m not sure, but I hear noises from above, and-“
“What’s the address?”
“It’s, um, Meguro district…”, you worded the address, two times to confirm it, pushing your back to the front doors, that now had their lock completely broken and useless and sliding down to the ground. The dead roses scattered near your legs in a puddle of stale water reminded you that you were alone. Maybe if the flowers weren’t dead, maybe if it was just few days earlier things would not end up like this, with you along the crumbles of what made your reality bearable.
“I’m dispatching police patrol, please stay on the line, don’t touch anything and remain calm. Help is on the way. Now, tell me what exactly happened?”
That night you were out, with your closest friend, enjoying the excellence of Japanese cuisine in the heart of Roppongi. No matter how long you’ve been living in the capital of Japan, it still amazed you with all of the delicious meals, the tradition that laced through the modern takes on dishes that are well-known for centuries and the absolute art of presentation. All of it made every experience magical but this time you couldn’t fully take it all in, the beauty slipped through your thoughts, as your mind was occupied by heartbreak you’ve just recently went through.
It's been a week, only few days but it felt like a year has passed already. Exactly one week ago you fought with the love of your life. Burning screams of the argument, harsh, heavy words and so much cyanide were poured into the explosion of emotions made for one of the worst days in your life and eventually, after hours of failed communication, after tears and helpless whispers, it all came to an end. A breakup, but what broke that day was not only your relationship with Gojo Satoru, not only few plates and one of your favorite mugs, but also your heart and you doubted it’ll ever heal. You don’t even remember what caused it all to shatter, what brought both of you to the point of cutting the strings that attached you two together for over a year but when it happened, it became obvious that there’s no way to tie them back. It seemed like what you had and built dispersed into nothing but hurt and sorrow. You watched him gathering the things he had scattered all over your place in silence and then, you watched him leave. He left you alone, with your face stained in tears and your throat dry and aching from all the words that hurt it.
That was the reason your friend invited you that night for some chill on the city. She knew how heartbroken you were and cheering you up was the mission of the highest importance. Aware of how fresh all of it was still, she didn’t push much, but it went quite nicely, you really put in effort to keep a bright face, but when you came back to your apartment, all of your good humor turned tail, leaving you with fresh new terror to experience. Something you couldn’t possibly be ready for.
Your doors were open, the lock completely broken and all of your mind quickly envisioned every black scenario that could happen right at that moment. You remained silent and entered when you determined that no on seemed to be inside, but what you were met with made your breath stuck in your throat. It seemed like nothing around you was not broken as if a tornado went through your little apartment, destroying everything on its path but when you grabbed your phone, instinctively searching for the number that your recent history of calls and messages knew all to well, the one that you could recite in the middle of the night from your head, you stopped, with your thumb hovering above the green headphone symbol and tears rolling down your face. You couldn’t call him.
When Satoru heard your address coming through the police radio in his car, he blanked for a moment. The street and number with the brief description of an offence taking place echoed in his head before someone on the line, some other patrol, possibly the closest one to your building, informed that is taking the issue and heading on. A residential break-in? And it was made obvious that the ambulance is dispatched as well, so you had to be hurt? Were you in danger? And if so, why wouldn’t you call him instead of those assholes in the general emergency line?
Questions piled up in his head when he informed the dispatcher that he’s also heading on the place, despite the objections of his superiors. All the way he was thinking that the address might be a mistake. Maybe it was another apartment in the building, or better, the building next to yours, maybe someone got something wrong, but when he got to the place, he realized it’s not. Few police cars and an ambulance were already there and by the look of a man being led handcuffed to the police car, he assumed the offender was captured already. Gojo run up the stairs to reach your eleventh floor quicker than the elevator, because he couldn’t wait any longer for it to go down. Adrenaline rushed through his veins saturating his thoughts with the irrational fear of seeing you there hurt, broken, abused. He would never forgive himself for not being here with you when you needed him.
Satoru busted through the door and met with the sight of complete disorder and mess, he almost gasped. He couldn’t imagine how frightened you had to be seeing all of this for the first time, realizing your apartment has been turned into a pile of broken memories, but as he pushed through the crowd that was taking pictures of everything what was broken, he noticed you in what once was your living room area.
You were there, with a blanket draped over your shoulders, surrounded by officers that were pushing you for the typical W’s that consisted of where, what, when, who and why. You sat on what would usually be the bottom of a couch that now has been upside down, visibly distressed and still crying, keeping your eyes down as the paramedic was measuring your blood pressure or whatever else. But you were there. In one piece, not bleeding, breathing quickly, but that was understandable. Sobbing. The cops were harsh on you, gathering your statement, asking for as much specific information as possible, forcing your answers and he knew it was just the procedure being followed, but it angered him nonetheless.
“What the hell happened here?” he almost groaned, stepping forward, when someone, visibly a freshly baked cop, tried to stop him explaining that this is a crime scene and no one’s allowed to get in. “Get out my way, rookie.”
“Let him through,” one of the officers that were around you called, and Gojo was quick to kneel in front of you, quickly assessing if you were hurt anywhere. He double checked. The sight of him made your heart beat faster, what didn’t go unnoticed for the paramedic beside you. Satoru was here, he was there and he came to you, because he cared, right? “We got a call-“
“I heard the call go through,” he cut him off harshly and then turned all of his attention to you, softening his features. The blues of his eyes, usually bright and joyful now were overflowing with concern. “I couldn’t believe it when I heard the address. All I could think was that if it really was your house, you surely wouldn’t just call the police – you would call me. Why didn’t you call me?”
“I assume you know that lady, officer?”, a cop asked and Satoru gave it a sigh, getting up as you stayed non responsive. You were too overwhelmed by the whole thing, the questions, the mess, and the paramedic that tried to force some drugs upon you to help you calm down – Gojo couldn’t blame you for shutting off, so he did what he could in order to finish all of this quicker.
In an hour, you were left alone. He took over the responsibility of making reports, gave few orders and promised to finish the formalities just to get rid of the crowd that invaded your space. Clocking out of the duty, he closed the doors and got back to you.
You were silently picking up pieces of what made your home a home, trying to tidy up, but in all honesty, you had no idea what to do, where to begin. How could you stay here for the night, when your locks didn’t work anymore and in the middle of the night, there was no way of fixing them? Hell, even if the locks would work, it seemed like the building that took pride in the advanced security systems and cameras wasn’t that secure after all. You could go to the hotel, or to your friend, but leaving your apartment open and unattended also didn’t sound well. Your hands were shaking when you tried to clear the floors from everything that was scattered there. Glass in the picture frames was broken, your pillows cut open with the filling thrown all over the place, clothes pulled out of the drawers and everything in between just messed up. As you looked through your belongings, it didn’t really seem like anything valuable was stolen. Jewelry still on its place, your documents untouched and yea, the few hundred yens that you had stored in one of your drawers was gone, but it was hard to believe all of this mess was just for that. Maybe the burglar was looking for something specific.
“Y/n,” Gojo called your name softly, carefully grabbing you by the waist and pulling your petrified form to himself. Immediately, you melted against his chest, wrapping your arms around him, searching for the safety only he could envelop you with. He was more than a home to you; he was everything in the universe that mattered to you.
“I wanted to call you,” you whispered, crying against his black, tight t-shirt that he had underneath his police uniform. The one that you always laughed he bought in the kid section because it was that tight, but nonetheless, you loved it on him. “I wanted to call you, but I had no idea if I should. If I still can.”
“You can always call me. I’ll never leave you without help and I wouldn’t forgive myself if something happen to you,” he cooed, smoothing over your hair, meaning to calm your distressed nerves, but his own heart was beating faster now than it was when he run up eleven floors. The one week of not having any contact with you was torturous to him, it felt wrong not to exchange even a simple hello in the mornings when usually, you would exchange messages for the whole day. He was used to hearing your voice whenever he wanted to, he craved your presence and everything that came with it – the feeling of your soft skin against his own, the subtle fruity scent of your hair, the tickle of your lashes fluttering against his neck when you buried your face there. He missed how your small hands would hide completely in his large palms and he missed how you would climb on top of him while you sleep, shamelessly stealing his warmth because you were almost always cold. Without all of this, his days became empty, incomplete and it only has been few days, but he couldn’t imagine it going on for any longer.
“I was so scared, I-“
“Shh, it’s alright, I’m here.”
“Will you stay with me tonight? I don’t know what to do…”
“Yeah, I will,” he pressed a tender kiss to the top of your head. “And the night after. And the next one, and every other night. If you’ll have me.”
“I’d love that.”
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the-cat-and-the-birdie · 10 months
Text
How NoirPunk Meets - Hobie Brown x Noir!Peter Parker Headcanons
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a/n: listen okay these two just hear me out- just listen i swear these two are perfect for each other on god i promise just trust me
also i be calling noir peter if thats okay i dont really see that much
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So let's just be honest they're a large part of why the other sticks around in the society, and I wouldn't be surprised if -
Hobie was the one that finally got Noir!Peter to join
I really like the idea that Hobie was the thing that convinced him to join.
I mean, Peter has his own shit going on, he's not just fighting Goblin and the usual villains - he's actively trying to stop a fascist regime and thought system.
I could absolutely see the society approaching him multiple times, and Peter just declining. He's the brooding type to work alone, and (aside from learning about color), it wouldn't be surprised if he was just uncomfortable with this whole 'secret society of superhumans that controls the flow of history' thing...because, y'know
So as a last ditch effort, Miguel and Jess ask Lyla whose left and who's algorithmically their best bet at recruiting him
And Lyla is like '..You know who ;) '
Miguel is like 'Jesus Christ anyone but him' - because they barely send Hobie on missions for a reason!! He's a huge wildcard
and convincing Hobie to recruit someone else is a whole different story for another time
Hobie went to Peter's universe already planning to have him as an ally
It was only after they debriefed him on Spider-Noir and what he does that Hobie agreed
Even from his case file - which Hobie thinks it's creepy they have that but whatever - Hobie admired him and his activism
SO much of world theory and social understanding developed from the thirties onward, so already he'd feel a connection and understanding, being almost impressed by Noir
And despite what he lets on to Miguel, Hobie is smart and informed as fuck, and from his large knowledge of world history, so he already knew what he was getting into
But the first time he stepped into Noir's universe it was like turning the world on its head
It really shocked Hobie, which is pretty hard to do
It was like going from the world's loudest room to dead silence. It's a kind of serenity that kind of puts Hobie at ease. The rain, the darkness, the quiet, all that
Which is why Peter comes home one night to Hobie just chilling in his apartment like it's nothing
He's just laid out on the couch like 'Oh great, for a second I thought The Man was going to have you working all night.'
And like COME ONNNN could you imagine from Peter's POV
Working literally all night, tired as hell, coming home to the dark of his apartment with the rain outside, and he just finds Hobie, vibrant and pink on his couch, his color the only thing in the room
Usually Peter turned away all the others from the society, but he felt like Hobie might be different
So he let him stay, and offered to hear him out
But what's supposed to be a recruitment pitch turns into hours of Hobie and Peter at Peter's kitchen table, shooting the shit and talking about anything
Peter makes them some coffee as Hobie looks over Peter's book collection, smiling at the ones filled with Peter's notes and thoughts in the margins
Peter is almost taken a back, because Hobie is so bold and out there and worldly
He's surprised to meet someone actually interested in justice - real, actual justice - and equality. Someone whose ready to talk about it so openly and say 'hey fuck this amiright'
It's SO refreshing to Peter
He's impressed that Hobie has all of this vocabulary, describing complex ideals that were still being formed and whispered about in 1933.
In a universe full of rain and shadows and shades of grey, meeting Hobie is like falling into an oil painting for Peter. He's full of color and humor and ease and confidence - his humor is scathing and honest, and Hobie's the first one to make Peter laugh at a joke about anti-capitalism
The first night they meet they kinda just get lost in each other
And UHHHH yeah they keep going
Hobie comes back the first night and tells Miguel that he's 'still staking Noir out', not telling him they've actually met
And for the next four nights, Hobie came over to Noir's place, just to see him, and talk
Peter knows why Hobie's there, and Hobie isn't trying to hide it. In the beginning he tells Noir straight up that he's here for recruitment, that he thinks it's bullshit, and that eventually he's going to do something about it
But he asks Noir to join because, yeah, Hobie likes him a lot, and he wants to see him more. And he thinks he'd be one of the most valuable allies to have, ever.
Noir is literally his comrade.
And Noir agrees (, but he probably will have some terms and conditions to take up with Miguel later, like the kind of missions he will do, the amount of time he can and can't spend away from his dimension, etc)
But for the next four nights, they spend it just with each other, learning each other and trading ideas, drinking coffee in Peter's apartment and listening to vinyls
And they just make each other so soft
Sometimes, Hobie brings papers from his world to show Peter
The third time he visits, Hobie brings him a stack of zines - colorful little booklets full of collages and bold ink
On some nights, Hobie reads over Peter's first drafts at his kitchen table, watching Peter make coffee on the stove, the old-fashioned way
People at the Bugle start to notice that even if it's subtle, Peter seems more at ease and easygoing, and he has DOZENS of new, forward thinking ideas in his writing that he's excited about
Meanwhile Hobie's been in a great mood (which Miguel hates cause he's a hater like that)
He asks Hobie for a status report, and Hobie smuggly tells him that the missions accomplished
And Lyla is grinning her little ass off because OF COURSE she knew that algorithmically they're romantically compatible
(And YES Lyla sets up mission teams based on her own little matchmaker algorithm without Miguel's permission because she thinks its funny)
From then on Noir requests he either be assigned solo missions or missions with Hobie
And they go around HQ calling each other their 'partner' and neither refuses to elaborate any further
Mission partner? Dating partner? Partner-in-crime? ALL THREE.
__________
im obsessed with these geniuses. look at what they've done to me (and by they I mean myself I've done this to myself)
hi thxs for reading also this was not proofread so if you see a typo my adhd says no you didnt
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tatumrileyslover · 4 months
Text
Please Take Me Anywhere But Home
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⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚ Sejanus Plinth Headcannons ˚୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅
Pairing: Sejanus Plinth x Capital!Reader
Word Count: 1k
Warnings: nothing really it’s just fluffy, lil bit of self doubt from Sejanus, wintertime, small mention of the war :P
A/N: this is a small apology for pt2 of Capital Don’t Cry taking so long, this is kinda inspired by take me anywhere but home by Seulgi (my love) you’ll all need some cute Sejanus fluff before the angst of the next part (also none of this is proofread)
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ೀ Sejanus is actually the sweetest boyfriend ever
ೀ is 100% a caregiver
ೀ you feel slightly ill he's making sure you're tucked up in bed and Ma will send an entire basket of homemade pastries
ೀ he's definitely a neat freak
ೀ if you hurt yourself in anyway at all, he has something for it
ೀ your stomach hurts, he has painkillers
ೀ you cut yourself, he has bandages
ೀ you have a killer migraine, he somehow has some morphling to help ease the pain.
ೀ and he tops it all off with a forehead kiss
ೀ definitely a paranoid type
ೀ knows you would cheat on him ever, but the second he sees you talking to someone else, he's immediately insecure
ೀ I think he feels he's not good enough for you
ೀ a successful Capital citizen, your family is very powerful, you already had your foot in some of the business your family owned.
ೀ he was just him, no matter how hard he tried, he'd never be seen as Capital, he was the black sheep of his family and the black sheep in the Academy
ೀ you never cared about his background
ೀ at the Academy he was the only person you met who wasn't self-centred and vain and that was really fucking attractive
ೀ probably thought you were only trying to be his friend because of a friend or something
ೀ definitely a bit cautious of you at first but that man is head over heels in no time
ೀ definitely the type to buy you flowers and a teddy bear
ೀ let's be honest you probably have a collection of teddy bears from every date you've ever been on
ೀ definitely love physical touch
ೀ always walking round hand in hand
ೀ loves walking you from class to class, just the feeling of your small hand in his makes his heart soar
ೀ he's also big on forehead kisses
ೀ he's definitely embarrassed of his Ma the first time you meet
ೀ she's pulling out the photo albums, all Sejanus's baby pictures on display
ೀ he genuinely wants the world to swallow him whole in that moment
ೀ assumes (incorrectly) that you'll see him as inferior, since you're seeing photos of him when he was in the district
ೀ it honestly makes you fall in love with him more, getting to see him in his childhood home
ೀ that night he walks you back to your apartment, snow falling, walking hand in hand
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The Capital look beautiful at this time of year, arguably more than usual with Sejanus by your side. The cold breeze that left the tip of your nose red to the plush scarf Sejanus insisted you wear on your walk back to your apartment. The snow crunched beneath your feet, bring back memories of your childhood. Innocent memories of winters past spent making angels in the snow and the bleak, grim wintertime during the war. Although the snow brought unpleasant memories, it also brought you him.
His soft black hair had begun to turn white, sprinkled with powdery flakes. His Ma insisted he wear a woollen hat but he tore it off the second he was out of her sight. You could tell he was a bit embarrassed all night, she immediately took you in as if you were family, showing you all the family photos, including ones of him as a child.
He looked so cute, seeing him back in his home back in District Two. His Ma told stories of their town and flaunted photos of the picturesque mountains they lived near. Ma Plinth was proud of her home, and you could tell she missed it dearly. You wished you had the same type of bond with your home like she did but the Capital wasn't a place to be proud of. You felt like a songbird stuck in a cage, only to be ogled at. You wanted to be free, that's what drew you to Sejanus in the first place, he was a breath of fresh air. Lost in thought, you slowed down a bit.
"Are you alright?" Sejanus looked a bit concerned, he was convinced that his Ma's sales pitch of District Two had completely turned you off. He was almost certain that you'd never speak to him again after tonight. You turned you head to him happily humming examining his red cheeks.
"I was thinking..." Sejanus froze in his tracks, turning to face you, fearing the worst. His heart melted when he heard what came out of your mouth.
"After we graduate from the Academy, if you'd like to take a trip to Two, you could show me around the place, I'd love to learn more about where you grew up,"
"You want to visit District Two?" Sejanus was shocked, thinking the idea of visiting the districts would never cross your mind.
"Well, your Ma made one hell of a sales pitch, it sounds like the most beautiful place," you're soft hands pushed some hair out of his eyes, resting softly on his cheek, "you don't talk about it often and I know how important it is to you, I want to learn more about your life before you came here," Sejanus's hand covered your own, he looked at you in awe, he couldn't have dreamt up a better partner.
"Are you sure you want to?" You smiled brightly, nodding while pulling him closer to you. It was like a scene out of a movie, the snowflakes continued to fall in clusters across the quiet streets of the Capital, the entire city fell silent. His brown eyes bore into your soul, his hands tenderly cradled the back of your neck, pulling you in swiftly to unite your lips. He couldn't help but smile throughout the kiss, happiness radiating within him. He pulls back gently, his hand resting on your cheek, carefully examining your face.
"I'd go anywhere with you, just take me anywhere but home."
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Between the bars (Coriolanus Snow x reader)
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AUTHORS NOTE 📝 : yall im so proud of this one i think its my best one yet would you want a part two bc i would be interested please comment and o worked Really really hard on this one especially a little longer than normal got a little carried away.
WARNINGS: pining, my post concussion writing, suggestive but no lemon, hardcore making out, fluff and slight angst w/ coryo family, tried my best for snow to be in character, were basically Lucy gray
My hands wrapped around the cold metal bars of the monkey house where I was enclosed in. I couldn’t sleep no, not a wink so I decided to watch over my district parter. It was cold at night, they didn’t give us any blankets. It’s barbaric the way they treat us, just because we’re district doesn’t mean we’re not human. And just since most of us are going to our death you’d think that we’d be entitled to a least a little dignity.
you’d think….
Suddenly I hear footsteps and peer out the bars of the monkey cage into the empty zoo. Well…..not empty anymore. There approaching me is the one person who has treated me fairly since coming here. He handles me like I was a true lady of the capital.
Coriolanus snow walked up to the bars where I was.
“hello y/n….I’ve brought you something” he hands me an intricate compact “it was my mothers I thought it would remind you of me in the arena and…….” He pauses and looks around though no one is there “there’s poison in it. I know, but only in self defense in that arena your going to things you’re not proud of”
I nod “I understand” I say knowing I’ll have to use it at some point “it’s beautiful…thank you” I run my fingers over the delicate and fancy design.
he smiles. That smile that stupid smirk. When I first met Coriolanus I had to admit I was struck by how attractive he was. Paired with holding out a rose for me to take from his hand and saying that he would take care of me….well it’s enough to have any girl blushing like a fool. I tried my best to keep it together but I knew some of the blush was showing on my face when he held out the rose. Whenever I look at him I get butterflies in my stomach. Little did I know at the time he felt almost the exact same way about me and my appearance when he first saw me. But it was my spirit at the reaping and going foreward that truly made him fall for her. In fact the was one of the things that prompted him to arrive with the rose at the train station. When I was reaped I didn’t cry or scream or anything but….well I sung. I’ve always been a performer at heart and though my song was very short it showed that they couldn’t break my spirit.
now he leans down and brings his face close to mine. Closer than ever before.
“Coryo, I don’t know if I’ll ever see you again…but I wanted to thank you, you’ve treated me well like an equal and that’s rare. If I die in that arena it won’t be your fault-“
“I’m going you out of there y/n. You’re not just a tribute to me. You’re going to survive”he shocks even himself by saying it. He had never spoken about his feelings to y/n. Not even to Tigris. But with the games tomorrow there was no chance other than now. He was enchanted by her beauty and her charm when they first met, her realness. And though it was hard to admit her survival in that arena now meant much more to him than just getting the plinthe prize. He cared about her. Love was a feeling that was all too foreign to the young Coriolanus snow. He had only ever possibly experimented with a girl or two and that was nothing special just a fling. He was an orphan he never knew love from his parents all he had was Tigris, the grandma’m and now y/n.
I let my fingers slip in between the the bars that separated us and caress the side of his soft cheek. Letting myself give in to the temptation that has plagued me ever since we met. His eyes lock onto mine and me gaze at each other for a while lost in our own thoughts. as I stroke his cheek he leans into my touch so heavily as though he has never felt real love in his life. My other hand goes to cup his other cheek from the side so I’m holding his head in my hands now. He looks up at me and I slide one of my hands down to his neck. He was so clearly touch starved, I could see the desperation and hunger in his eyes.
and we’re both wondering the same thing. is this it? Is this the last time l’ll ever see them?
“Y/n l/n” he breathed like it was a desperate plea.
“coryo…”
and then he leans in close and we are in between the bars. He kisses me at first gently, soft and pure like driven snow. I can smell the roses on him a sweet scent that fills my lungs and takes me away. And we both forget about everything. The arena, the tributes, the fact I might be facing my death tomorrow. Because all I can feel is his lips upon mine. His lips are warm and soft, unlike the cold crisp air around us. We’re almost gasping for air. The kiss turns hot and heavy. More rough as it goes on. Like he was holding back before, now he had given up the fight with control. I gasp as I feel his hand snake around to the back off my head and pulling impossibly closer to him in the kiss. When I gasp he takes advantage of that and and deepens the kiss even further if possible. It was never a fight for dominance he took control. A small groan of pleasure escapes Coriolanus’s lips. I hum in response showing that I’m enjoying it as much as he is. Eventually we break and put our foreheads together.
And there stands Coriolanus snow one of the finest men in the capital, panting uniform messed up, and face as red as a beet. All because of the tribute y/n l/n from district 12. She had more than just affect on him. That was an understatement
not that she was any better…
Our foreheads touching both of us panting for our lives, tomato faced. I gaze once again into those beautiful blue irises that remind me of crystals
“Coryo…I won’t let you down in that arena I’ll survive for us…you’ve given me something to fight for” I breathe out
”and you’ve given me someone to root for. I’ll be waiting for you y/n” he almost whispers the last sentence
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wosowrites · 1 year
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Starting a New Streak (Leah Williamson x Reader)
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warnings: ⚠️swearing⚠️
a/n: I don’t think ive ever written a fic so fast and so emotional. i decided to write this now because the issue of the hate Leah is getting is really making me emotional so I want to get this fic out while im all high up on my emotions and love for Leah. Based off this request here
prompt: in which the reader and Leah have been best friends since they were 15 and are both secretly hiding feelings for each other that get revealed after the australia v england game.
11 years of knowing Leah. 11. Nine of those years you were withholding your feelings for the blonde. You had tried dating other people, other footballers, just others. But no one was Leah. No one was her.
You were all riding high on the Finalissima win going into the Australian friendly, you felt light and happy. 30 game winning streak. Let’s go England.
But everyone makes mistakes… right? You had made a fair few yourself, and you were especially good at beating yourself up about them. An own goal in the first Euros game had you crying in the changing room, even though it all worked out. A complete giveaway during an Arsenal v Chelsea game that lead to Manu having to make a bad tackle and get a red. The gunners lost that game 3-2. You felt as though it was your fault… and it was… but your teammates were by your side. And Leah didn’t leave you along for a minute, didn’t leave you a second to think that you were anything else than… well… human.
The lineup was interesting, Esme starting in defence with you, Jess and Leah instead of Leah, Lucy and you. You felt weird about that, but wanted to be happy for the young defender.
From kickoff, the lionesses were dominating. You had gotten a few shots off and were making good plays, so the fact that nothing was coming out of them angered you to no end. That was the first problem. The team wasn’t connecting. And then, as she always does, Sam Kerr happened.
A good ball was made from the australian defence. And then, it was Sam versus Leah.
Leah got to it first, but it just wasn’t enough. She tried her best to get her head on the ball to secure it into Mary’s hands, and she did. But it was missing that extra power.
The australian striker was fast, and incredibly talented. Kerr just needed a little chip over Mary, and she delivered.
Leah threw her head back in annoyance as Mary watched the ball go in the net from her knees. Nothing to be done.
You jogged up to her, putting your hands on Leah’s shoulder. "Look at me, Lee. It’s okay. It happens I should have been there to support you more. Team mistake," you said to her.
She nodded absentmindedly and apologized to Mary who clapped her on the back and told her to keep going.
Bur it wasn’t a team mistake. It was a Leah mistake. But Leah was part of the team, she was your skipper, your best friend, your teammate, your world. And so it was a team mistake.
You kept going. As a defender, you shockingly got a few opportunities on net, but you weren’t able to conceive a goal. "FUCK!" you yelled, throwing your head back in anger and sighing loudly as the ball you had just shot grazed the outside of the post. "It’s all good! We got this!" Georgia said, tapping you on the back and letting you jog back to your defensive role.
The first half ended 1-0.
You all walked back into the changing room, Sarina telling you to think of the game as goalless to take the pressure off. "Let’s capitalize on our opportunities girls!" Sarina said, clapping her hands and sending all of you off.
You slung your arm around Leah, holding her a little to close for friends. "Brush it off, love. Brush it off," you told her, kissing her cheek gently before parting with her as you got into the view of the cameras.
Time was a blur, it was like it was non existent. It passed, but you didn’t notice. All you could think was that opportunity after opportunity was being missed, and wasted, and you wanted to yell at yourself more than anything.
And then the 66th minute came.
You didn’t even notice who shot the ball. All you noticed was the deflection off of Leah’s arm, and that Mary went right as the ball went left. You heard the scream of joy, the kind of scream that only happened when a player scored their first goal for their country. You knew it well. You had let out that scream three times. Once for U-15, another for U-17, and the loudest one of all, for the senior team.
Leah looked like she was on the verge of tears and then and there you wished for nothing more than to wrap her in bubble wrap and protect her from the world. You were scared of what people would say.
You were scared of the bad fans. And you knew Leah was too.
The final whistle marked the end of an era. 30 games unbeaten. Gone.
Ouch.
"Leah!" you said, rushing up to her and trying to hug her as she walked into the tunnel. "Get away from me! I don’t need you telling me it’s not my fault, okay?! I don’t want you right now. Just let me be," she yelled.
You froze. Everyone heard. Lucy looked shocked. Keira looked uncomfortable. Sam looked hurt for you. And everyone else looked like they just wanted to run.
"Okay."
"Leah! I don’t want to do this but they want you for media," Sarina said. Leah looked broken at those words. "Tell them she’s not available. I’ll go," you said. "Wait- y/n. I’m-" Leah tried to apologize, her heart breaking as she processed the words she had said to you. "Don’t. Go," and with that, you walked away.
You shook hands with the interviewer and camera man. "Leah’s not available. I’ll be here instead. Can we do this quickly please?" you asked, not caring that you were already on live TV.
The crew nodded.
"How do you feel after this loss? Ending a streak, ending an era. What’s it like?" the woman asked. "I’m scared. Genuinely that’s the only feeling I can stomach right now. Obviously I’m aware that the disappointment and anger will settle in later but right now I’m just scared. Obviously mistakes were made. Yes, by Leah. The most obvious ones were but not only from her. From all of us. Um…" you sniffled, pinching your nose and biting your cheek. "Yeah. When you get to the level where everyone is watching you it’s great but it’s also scary. Loosing is scary because of what people say. I want to just… wrap Leah in bubble wrap because I’m so scared of what people will say about her online. She’s amazing and i’ve known her for forever. She’s led us to four trophies and a wonderful streak. But everything comes to an end. But i’m making it clear here and now that Leah’s talent is not ended. Our confidence hasn’t faltered," you admitted.
Never had you been so raw on love TV. There was no editing on live TV, no tweaking, no clipping, no editing. Just your words for everyone to hear.
"Is this a setback for the World Cup?" she asked.
"No. Not at all. I think this may be a blessing in disguise. Going into the world cup beaten humbles us. We understand that we are beatable. Tonight was easily my hardest night in an England shirt and I felt as though I wanted to scream the whole game but a setback? The Lionesses don’t have setbacks," you told her, and the world as a matter of fact. "One last thing. If you could say anything to the fans, what would it be?"
You took a second to think. "Thank you for standing with us through all our wins, all our trophies. The cups and awards and championships in our trophy cabinet are just as much yours as they are ours. I hope, that if you are a real fan, that you will stick by us through this loss. I hope you stand by us because we love you all very much. Also, any hate comments on my posts, and you’re blocked."
You took off your headphones, smiled gently at the interviewer and walked away.
The walk back to the changing room was silent other than the sound of your heart beating out of your chest. Had you said too much? Had your feelings for Leah taken over your words? Maybe. Probably.
You pushed open the door of the changing room and walked inside, finding the whole team sitting in silence, still in their kits.
They all looked up as you walked in, some of the younger girls who had played were red eye’d.
Their looks on you sent your heart into overdrive. You took a gasping, shaky breath as your throat closed and leaned your head against the wall, palms pressed to the cool tile as though if you pushed on the wall hard enough, it would take back the words you had said on live TV. "If you write hate comments i’ll block you? What the fuck was that." you thought.
Lucy and Mary were by your side quickly, concerned by your shaky sobs. "Shh. It’s okay. What is it?" Lucy said, gently grabbing you and letting your head rest on her shoulder as Mary rubbed your back. "The interview… I said too much. And Leah’s mad at me. And we- Im scared of what people will say about her. I’m in love with her," you said.
The last part was nothing but a whisper for only Mary and Lucy to hear. The two seniors looked into each others eyes, a silent demonstration of shock. "Where is Leah?" you asked, pulling away from Lucy and wiping your face with your sweaty, muddy, and grass covered jersey. "Washroom. Hasn’t come out in ten," Mary said.
You nodded and then walked deeper into the changing room towards the door connecting the guest locker room to the washroom.
You pushed open the door gently, seeing Leah sitting on the floor, her head in her hands, her body shaking with sobs.
"Leah…" you cried gently, tears steaming down your own cheeks again. She looked up quickly, her face more broke than you had ever seen it before. "I’m so sorry. I didn’t want to hurt you. I didn’t. I’m sorry," Leah cried, her voice trembling and getting caught in her throat. "It’s okay. It’s okay," you said, quickly heading over to her.
You let your body slip down the wall. You put your arms around Leah and she did the same to you. For the time your bodies pressed together, you didn’t care how the other stentched of sweat, and mud… and fear and pain and disappointment. You only cared about each other.
"Leah this couldn’t be worse timing but-"
"I’m in love with you," Leah said, cutting you off. Your eyes widened as you pulled away from her. "You cut me off," you said, not realizing you were in a little bit of shock. "What?" she said, sniffling. "You interrupted me! I was going to say. Leah. This couldn’t be worse timing but I am in love with you," you said.
It sunk in how stupid your words had been, considering Leah had just said the same thing. "Really?" she said. "Yes. And don’t watch the interview they made me do because it’s embarrassing and sad," you told her.
She let out a small laugh and leaned her forehead against yours. "30 games unbeaten streak broken," she said. Somehow, her breath smelled sweet. "Well we have another streak. 11 years of friendship. That’s a good streak. And I say we start another one," you told her. "Yeah?"
"Yeah? One minute of you being my girlfriend and… counting."
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boldlyvoid · 3 months
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Silk Chiffon (why wouldn't it be?)
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Robin Buckley x Nancy Wheeler
Summary: Robin can read Nancy like her favourite book, it just takes her a few tries to get the translation right.
Warnings: coming out, demisexual Nancy, anxiety about the future ad regrets from the past. first kiss, love confessions
a/n: i know demisexuality wasn't coined till like 2004/2008 (depending on the source) but it just fits here and so I'm using it
word count: 2k
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Robin can tell something is up. They’re trying to sleep, laying side by side in her twin bed, Robin facing her while she stares up at the ceiling. Eyes open, hands interlocked and laying on her stomach, her breathing is a little too fast. Like her thoughts are racing and therefore, her heart must be, too. 
“Do you want to talk?” Robin whispers. 
Nancy lets out a deep sigh, “no… but yes.” 
“You can tell me anything,” she reminds her. After all they’ve been through, there’s nothing Robin can’t handle now. 
“Can I ask you a question?” 
She nods, “yeah, of course.” 
She scoots a little closer to Nancy as she turns to face robin, inches from her face now, so her whispers can’t be heard by anyone else. “Are you… asexual?” 
“What? No?” Robin’s absolutely shocked by that. “Why would you think I am?” 
“Cause Steve hits on anything with a pulse and you’ve never gotten with him. You’re so adamant that you’re platonic with a capital P and he obviously would respect you if you turned him down but like… you guys don’t flirt. Steve flirts with everyone, but not you?” She explains, rambling a bit which is so unlike her. 
“He did try and tell me he had a thing for me… when we were high, after the Russian’s… but I uh, I um, I’m—” she tries to swallow, to get some moisture back in her mouth. Terrified that this is where the friendship dies. This is why she never had sleepovers before. Telling someone the truth after spending so many nights side by side can only end one way. Disgust. Betrayal. Being kicked out and humiliated in the middle of the night. 
“Robin,” she reaches out and soothes her hand over her shoulder and down her arm. “It’s okay.” 
She takes a deep breath, nodding slightly. “I’m a lesbian.” 
“That’s wonderful,” Nancy smiles at her. “I’m proud of you for telling me… I love that you trust me.” 
Robin feels like crying but she doesn’t, she just lets out a breath she didn't know she was holding for so long, “thank you. Really.” 
“How did you know?” Nancy asks. “Like, did you always know or did it sneak up on you?” 
“Oh, I uh, I always knew,” she explains. “Like… when all the other girls were swooning over boys, I was so disgusted by it. My mom thought I was just a late bloomer but then, then I got a crush. I didn’t think it was a crush but the more I thought about it, the more I was so worried I was just obsessed with her. Like a freak.” 
“That’s how I felt about Steve at first,” she explains. “But that’s just because I thought that was what you were supposed to do when you like someone.” 
“Yeah, it feels so intense you just want to look at them and be near them and—and relate to them, so you become who they want to get closer to them and you lose a bit of yourself,” Robin rants. “I hate it. I wish someone would like me for me, that someone could see me for who I really am and stay who they really are and we can stay happy together.” 
“I want that too,” she sighs. 
“We’ll find it,” Robin gives her a little smile. 
“Would it be okay for me to tell you a secret now?” 
“Why wouldn't it be?” 
“When I was touring the campus in Boston, mom went to find a payphone so she could call home and see if Holly was okay… I went to the store to get a sweater but I ended up finding all the textbooks for each course and—and I bought the book for the human sexualities class,” she explains. “And I read it all.” 
“Can I read it next?” Robin asks, thinking nothing of it. Nancy loves to learn, there’s nothing wrong with that. 
“Yeah, it’s just…” she bites her lip for a second. “Have you ever heard of demisexuality?” 
She shakes her head, “no.” 
“The way the book described it is basically someone who only develops sexual feelings for someone or enjoys and initiates sex with someone who they’re emotionally close with,” she explains. 
“Makes sense,” Robin nods along. “So, is that why you asked if I’m asexual?” 
She nods, “Yeah… and because I think that’s me.” 
“Oh?” 
“With Steve, the first time was so— not bad, but uncomfortable. I wanted to, at least I thought I did. I thought lying to your parents and going to a boy's house to drink beer and have your first time was such a normal teenage girl thing to do that I did it. But I didn’t enjoy myself—
“Most girls don’t the first time,” Robin validates her feelings. “I’m not saying you’re not demisexual, I’m just saying that’s normal.” 
“I know it is, but… then I kept dating Steve. I did fall in love with him, he was a good friend to me and the sex did get better, which I know you don’t want to hear about but—
“I don’t mind,” she giggles slightly. “I always knew he wasn’t as good as he bragged to be.” 
Nancy laughs too, “he was good. It just took me a while to initiate it and have fun and then there was Jonathan. It was so different with him, that first time was so good. It was months of building a friendship and an understanding that bubbled to the top and it was wonderful. But then it died. As we drifted apart, as he stopped being my best friend, the longer we weren’t together, the harder it was to keep loving him.” 
Robin nods, “And that happened with Steve too?” 
“No. No, it faded with Steve because of Jonathan. Like, I have a one-track mind when it comes to love and whoever my best friend is at the time is the only person I want to be with. And I hate myself for that,” she explains. 
“You were also a teenage girl, I mean, you still are,” Robin talks her off the ledge. “You’re 18. You don’t need to have all the answers and be 100% perfect all the time. I mean there are adults in their 30s and 40s who cheat and ruin families all the time, you’re not like that. You have time to learn who you are and what you like and be truly loved. It’ll be okay.” 
Nancy starts to cry a bit, “I don’t think it will…” 
“Hey,” Robin moves in closer, pulling her in against her chest, she runs her hand over Nancy’s back. “You will. You are loved. Very loved.” 
“That’s why I’m so scared. I don’t want to lose this,” she whispers, her voice smaller than it’s ever been. She hugs Robin so close, “If I love you… if we get together just to go to different colleges and spend days not talking, it’ll dwindle and die like everything else and I can’t lose you. You’re my favourite friend I’ve had in a long time.” 
“So that’s why you asked… cause if I was asexual we couldn’t hook up and you wouldn’t lose me,” Robin pieces it all together. 
She just nods against her, “I have loved this time so much. I love how we talk about everything. I love how we can do nothing and still enjoy it because we're together. I love that life with you is so easy and fun and—and I just love you.” 
Robin simply kisses the top of her head before resting her cheek against her, “I love you too… but unlike those two idiots, I’m not going to let the best girl I’ve ever known in my whole life just walk away. You’re going to get sick of me. I’m going to call you in Boston, and I’m going to come visit when I can, we’ll be home for Thanksgiving, Christmas and spring break and if you get a summer internship in Boston, I can come out there for the summer. If I get to love you, to really love you, I’m making it work for the long run.” 
“Is Steve going to be okay with it?” She worries more. 
Robin just laughs, “Yeah, seeing as he’s had to listen to me pine over you for months now, he knows. He’s okay… he has someone special of his own now. I’ll let him tell you who, but he’s okay. He’s moved on. We’re allowed to be happy.” 
Nancy lets out a relieved laugh, holding Robin even tighter. “Oh my god, it feels so good to tell you. I have been thinking about this for weeks. Months maybe.” 
“You have a killer poker face then,” Robin teases. “I thought you were so straight.” 
“I did too,” Nancy whispers, adjusting her head so she’s closer to Robin’s throat. She gives her a little kiss, “Then I spent a week with you and something brewed and all I could think about was seeing you again, and talking to you again and kissing you to get you to shut up.” 
Robin laughs, “Yeah, that’s one way to do it.” 
Nancy straddles her, a knee on both sides of her hips, her arms wrapped around her middle, she keeps kissing the side of her neck. “I’ve wanted to kiss you for so long.” 
“I’ve never been kissed before,” Robin admits. “I’ve never done anything, before… I’m not sure I’m ready to just jump into it, either.” 
“I’m not ready for that either,” Nancy agrees, holding her tighter for a moment before she props herself up on her hands and leans over her. Her hair dangling down in Robin's face, she reaches up to push her hair back behind her ear. “But I would like to kiss you.” 
“Please?” Robin all but begs. 
Balancing on one hand, Nancy cups her face gently, rubbing her thumb over Robin’s cheek. She leans in slowly, savouring the moment, building anticipation before it happens. 
One touch, 4 lips meet, one explosion, 2 lives better in an instant.
Suddenly, all at once, she understands the big bang. How something so small could create so much. She understands every love song and poem, every painting and sculpture… every depiction of the world from a lens of love and happiness and longing and belonging. 
The kiss deepens, and she follows Nancy’s lead because she knows what she’s doing. Sure, she’s seen enough movies to get the gist of making out, but there’s something so different about experiencing it firsthand. The way her tongue feels so right against her own, how their lips move in tandem like they were programmed this way… how Nancy slips from her perch and rests her body weight on her and Robin's hands instinctively wrap around her and she holds her there. 
Nancy brushes her hair back a few times, trying to get it out of Robin’s face and stop it from tickling her, but it keeps falling back down. Eventually, Robin misses the feel of her hand on her cheek, so she gathers Nancy’s hair in her hands and holds it as if her fist was a ponytail. To her surprise, Nancy just hums against her, thanking her while her tongue is in Robin's mouth. 
She never wants this to end. 
She could make out with Nancy for the rest of her life if she was allowed. They could never leave this bed again for all she cared. She would give up every early pleasure for Nancy’s. 
When Nancy does eventually pull away, it’s just a millimetre before she rests her forehead against robins. She’s breathing just as deep as Robin, flushed and craving more but they said they wouldn’t. They can’t. It needs to be more special than in the middle of the night in the Wheeler’s house with people on either side of her walls and across the hall. 
“I love you,” Nancy whispers.
“I love you,” she whispers right back. “There’s no getting rid of me now. You’re stuck with me, I hope you understand that.” 
Nancy just giggles that beautiful giggle. “Good.” 
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General Taglist 
@ncsls0515 @stevesmunsons @reidsbookclub @sweetyyhippyy @manuosorioh @mrs-dr-reid @k-k0129 @squishyturtle @katsukis1wife @buckleyhans @mrs-ssa-hotch @ssavanessa22
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kooktrash · 1 year
Note
this drabble idea was inspired by this prompt i saw before: “you wanna act single? fine. then be single.”
omg pretty pls do slow burn yandere!taehyung x reader where he’s not rlly a great bf to her so she breaks up with him and tries to get over it by going out with a lot of guys and it’s only then that tae’s possessive behavior grows worse and worse 🫣 pls make it angsty/smutty can be fluffy too hehe whatever works for you
alright this might be so much slow burn but let me explain 😭😭 I don’t like my requests so long bc they’re really just drabbles and something quick. I hope you like it; really enjoyed this request. Love a good yandere bc I’m crazy and need my man obsessed with a capital OBSESSED [but also not in a You kind of way, more possessive lmao] little over 2k words. light smut at the end. angst and smutty?
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“If you want to act single? Fine, be single.”
He swears he short circuit-ed. His eye practically at what you just told him in the middle of what was supposed to be a nice dinner and yet there was an argument involved. He tried to smile or laugh it off despite his breathing suddenly becoming uneven, “What do you mean? I—I don’t act single. I love you, you know that.”
“Clearly I don’t,” your tone was sharp and it had his jaw clenching. What do you mean you don’t know how much he loves you? “You work day and night and when you have free time all you want to do is drink at bars with your friends. You entertain another girl’s flirting right in my face so try. Lie to me again that you love me when I’m not a single one of your priorities. Everyone else seems to be but me.”
“That’s not true. I don’t let other girls flirt with me. I always tell them I have a girlfriend when I go ou—“
“Tae it’s not just that. There’s many reasons I want to break up wi—“ “No, I’m sorry but you’re not dumping me,” he said trying to seem calm as he went to finish his dinner but suddenly he lost his appetite, “We’ll work this out.”
“There’s nothing to work out,” you were suddenly standing and he couldn’t hide his worry anymore, “I shouldn’t have to tell you what’s wrong if you already know it. I’m sorry but this just isn’t working anymore. I’ll head out first.”
“Y/n wait,” he rushed to stand just as the waiter came with the bill and he swears he could kill the guy for stalling him. By the time he was finished paying and gathering his things, you were already in a cab.
“It’s just one date, please? He’s bringing a friend and I’ve got no one,” your friend begged you one day after work. It’s only been a few days since you dumped Taehyung and she’s already rushing you to meet new people. He’s been texting you nonstop when before he’d go hours without responding. It was overwhelming because you still loved him but it felt like he didn’t care. If he did he wouldn’t have constantly brushed you off like you weren’t dating.
taehyung: I love you
taehyung: pls can we talk about this
taehyung: I’ll do better
“Fine but if I don’t like it I’m not staying,” you told her as the two of you left the building to a cab. She cheered in triumph and kissed your cheek, “You’re the best. It’ll help you get over Taehyung and move on.”
“It’s been day—“ “Who cares. It’s been a while that you’ve been feeling like this so you’re ready to m—“
“Y/n?” You both stopped abruptly, just a few feet behind you was your recent ex. You released a sigh as your friend looked at you and you gave her a weak smile, “You can go ahead, I’ll see you later?” She gave you a nod, glancing back at Taehyung once more and leaving. You turned to Taehyung, surprised to see his condition changed in just a couple days. His hair was a mess, he had dark circles, and his clothes looked like it’s been worn for days. You walked up to him, “What are you doing here? You never visit me here.”
“I wanted to see you,” he said honestly, head hanging low, “And I just wanted to… baby can we please just talk? Please, I miss you so much.”
“How? How can you miss me when you’d literally go days without seeing me. This should be something you’re used to,” you told him though you let his arm come to your side, “And I’m sorry but I really don’t want to talk to you.”
“Baby,” his voice broke, holding you closer now, “Don’t say that, please. Just… just give me another chance. I promise I’ll change an—“ “Taehyung I need some space, okay? I shouldn’t have had to break up with you for you to realize what a shitty boyfriend you’ve been.”
His eyes began to water and you’ll admit you’ve never seen him get emotional like this but you had to stand your ground. You’re not just going to stay with a guy who can’t value you. Still, you obviously still care about him, that’s not just going to go away so you couldn’t help yourself. You cupped his face and pressed a kiss on the tip of his nose, his hands on your waist as you said, “I’ve gotta go.” He wanted to keep you in his arms but then a cab came and you were slipping away.
Today was the stupid double date that you didn’t want to go on but you already agreed. You were in a café sitting on some couches having coffee across from two guys. They were both attractive but this felt wrong. But if you wanted to get over Taehyung and how he was when you dated, maybe you needed a rebound.
“So, what do you do for work?” One of them asked you in an attempt to make small talk. You set your mug down, “I’m a columnist.”
“Ah, so you both do journalism?” He asked and you nodded. He seemed nice, obviously attractive and sort of gentle. Even if you might not have been too interested in the date, now that you’re here you should try and make the most of it. Your fingers ran through your hair nervously, “What do you do?”
“I’m a mechanic, I work under cars mostly oil changes or engine changes,” he said with a shrug before smirking, “So if you need some work under the hood, I’m your guy.”
“I’ll make sure to call,” you said with a flirty smile, completely unaware of the man on the phone just tables away.
“Y/n’s here with her friend. It looks like they’re on a date,” Yoongi told his heart broken friend. “What?” Taehyung’s jaw clenched as he sat at a red light, “Where? How many people?”
“Two guys, one’s looking real interested in Y/n right now. Is she moving on that fast?” Yoongi asked, “And it’s at a cafe. I’ll send you the place, are you planning on coming because I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“No, I just want to know the place,” Taehyung lied and yet Yoongi believed him and sent the address. It didn’t even take him five minutes to find the place and park across the street. He got off quickly and tried to bury his face in his phone as he found a table far enough from you that you wouldn’t feel him behind you. He hid behind a menu.
“Wow, Jimin seems to be interested in Y/n and Y/n alone,” your friend said loud enough for Taehyung to hear, “Why don’t you just ask to talk somewhere private.”
“Soomin,” you said in a warning tone but you tried to brush it off with a nervous laugh, “Ignore her. She doesn’t have a filter.”
“It’s fine,” Jimin laughed with you, “Maybe we should though, give them privacy too.”
Taehyung stood abruptly, unable to stop his feet from taking him toward you in a swift move. The guys across from you slowly came to a stop mid-conversation at the sight of him and the intimidating glare in his eyes. It made you turn and your heart dropped, “Taehyung. W-what are you doing here?”
“Came for a drink when I catch you sitting here on what looks like a date,” his eyes were solely trained on Jimin whose mug was pressed against his face in an attempt to hide. He doesn’t know who this guy is and frankly he doesn’t want to know, especially when he just met you and Taehyung’s voice was so deep that with his stare he knew he didn’t want to get involved. Your friend sighed, “Taehyung this was my id—“
“Oh, I don’t doubt,” his tone was bitter turning his glare to you, “You’ve been dying for us to break up and now you’re rushing Y/n to move on? Real classy of you, did you tell these guys that you think you might be pregnant?”
“Taehyung!” Your voice rose as she glared at you. “You told him?”
“He was in the room when you called, I didn’t know you were going to say that,” you said honestly as the guys grew more uncomfortable by the second. You released an annoyed huff moving to stand up, “I’m sorry everyone. I think it’s better if I just go.”
“Yeah, I think so too,” the guy you hadn’t been talking to said, “I think Jimin and I should go too, not really interested in taking care of anyone’s kid.”
You pushed Taehyung out the front door, “Why would you do that? Soomin has nothing to do with what’s goin o—“
“She does if she’s trying to set you up on dates not even a week after we broke up!” His tone was loud as you made it to the sidewalk, “And I can’t believe you would actually entertain another guy right now. I thought you needed space, not some guy who just wants you for sex.”
“How do you know that?” You bit back, “Because that’s pretty much all you used me for. Sex and what? A dinner once a week? A text only when you felt like it?”
“Don’t act like you were always there for me either,” Taehyung said, “You were always too busy too. Sorry I stopped trying when you did and it’s not fair that I’m the only one being blamed.”
“I’m leaving, what you just did in there…” you stopped, trying to keep your cool, “Now Soomin’s going to be mad at me.”
Once again you left him.
He made it into his dark tinted car, hands tightening around the steering wheel and as he thought about what he just saw, he couldn’t help himself. His fists banged into the steering wheel, horn going off for a moment as he released some anger. He rested his forehead on the steering wheel trying to calm down. His eyes were bloodshot red, why can’t you just give him another chance?
He wasn’t ignoring you. He didn’t just use you for sex but he knew what kind of guy he was. He knew how obsessive and unhinged he could be so obviously he distanced himself. He wanted to be in a relationship where you didn’t feel overwhelmed by him but now you just left him. He was too busy scaring off any guy who’d try and talk to you that he seemed to have neglected the love of his life. But he won’t give up.
You can’t believe he was at your door right now. You had a long day at work and now Taehyung was in front of you with a bouquet of your favorite flowers. Your head hurt and you just wanted to be alone. So you ignored him as you unlocked the door and you spoke, “I’m tired Taehyung, I can’t do this tonight.”
“Then let me help you relax,” he set down the flowers on the table, immediately falling to his knees, “Please if you won’t take me back yet then let me love you. You love when I get on my knees. After we’ll watch a movie and stay in or we can go out, do whatever you want. I just want to spend time with you.”
“Taehyung I’m not in the mo—“ “Tae,” you released a sigh as he began sliding up your skirt in the process. Your hands were on his shoulders keeping him at a distance even though his hands were running to the back of your thighs closer and closer to your panties. Your mouth parted in surprise as he pretended to nibble on your thighs between words, “I know you want me to. I know how pent up when you get stressed. You know I can make you forget.”
You couldn’t help but roll your eyes until his hair was getting too close and tickling a certain spot.
“Tae, I know you want to get back together bu—ngh,” your hands tightened around his hair as he pressed you into the wall behind you, nose brushing over your panties, “Bu—Tae!”
“I’m listening,” he muttered, mouthing at your covered clit teasingly over the fabric, “But you’re wearing my favorite panties.”
“We can’t do this, oh fuck, can you just give me a se—“ your lips released a silent moan when he yanked them down roughly. Oh god he knew all your weaknesses to get you to not be mad anymore, you couldn’t help it. You were a sexual being and Taehyung always knew how to pleasure you.
“You’re wet baby, is this for me?” His hands were on your butt, fingers digging in as he grinds his teeth, “Or is this for one of those guys you’re trying to see behind my back.”
“I’m not seeing,mm,” his hot breath was fanning your heat as he spread your legs further apart, tongue giving a quick, shy flick against your hood, “Anyone.”
“But me,” he groaned, arms wrapping around your thighs as he hoisted a leg over your shoulders, “Isn’t that right, baby?”
He was teasing you with very quick licks, and hands that fondled you so deliciously, “Because you know, nobody can make you feel as good as I do. So you can’t just leave me.”
“Then treat me better.”
“I’ll treat you the fucking best,” he gave another lick, even lower, “Even if you don’t like it. I won’t leave you.”
“Tae—“ he cut you off with another, this time tongue flattening between your folds. Fuck he knows sex makes you weak. He peppered kisses against your gardening clit, “I’ll make you feel so good, every night. Every moment of the day that I can.”
“Tell me you’ll take me back,” he looked back up at you, “Please baby, I love you so much and I can’t stand seeing you trying to get over me when I know you still love me.”
“I don’t kn—fuck!” He was going to town now, anything to get you to forget your worries and your hips met his tongue with small thrusts into his mouth, “Fuck, fine. Fine. We’ll try again—“
“God, thank you so much baby, I’ll be better, but don’t ever try to leave me again, you hear me?”
The look in his eyes scared you as his tongue stuck out to lick you again. It was intense and dark but it had you nodding your head, scared to say no. And at the conversation a smile broke out on his face, “Good baby, not let me show you what you’ve missed.”
EL FIN
I’ll probs do like two more requests.
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2braincellslz · 1 year
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My Queen
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Ship: Fem!reader x Robb Stark
Desc: the new Targaryen Queen replaces the evil queen Cersei Lannister. Her White Wolf gushes over her.
Notes: so this was a request but I fucked up and lost it lol. Also not my favorite, it's very short, but I'm really excited to write for Robb. Also idk shit about the Targaryen house, I'm better suited for the Ironborn and the Starks but I still tried. Also dont know about about the iron throne and I have yet to read asoiaf. Sorry.
Warnings: implied violence, not prof read.
(Y/n) didnt think she would make it this far. Hell, she didnt even think she would make it half way. It didnt seem real, standing infront of the long sout after goal. How could something so many people died for just be sitting right in front of her.
She steped forward, reaching out and feeling the throne. It was cool, cold, stone cold. She ran her finger across the dull edge of one of the swords, only stopping for a moment at the broken chips.
(Y/n) remembered when she was young, growing up with her siblings Danni and Viserys. She learned more about the throne then her siblings. She lerned about the importance of each and every one of them. She even knew some of them by name.
"The guards are taken care of." A voice, one of comfort, snapped (y/n) out of her thoughts.
"Thank you." The words were simple but they got the point across.
"It's so... so..." (y/n) smiled, looking over her shoulder. "It dosnt feel real."
"I was just thinking that." Her finger traced one of the carvings in a sword. "Come here, my wolf." (Y/n) held out her hand.
A callused hand intertwined (y/n)'s.
"Do you remember all the storys I've told you about the iron throne?" (Y/n)  asked, she felt Robb's thumb rubbing over the back of her hand.
"How could I forget? You tell me a new one every night." She could feel Robbs apprehensiveness.
"Here." (Y/n)  led Robb closer to the throne, moving his hand closer to the throne. "This one, the one with the engravings, this one has always been my favorite."
She led Robb's hand across the engraving. "Its special."
Robb slowly but surely let (Y/n) lead him. He glanced over at (y/n), the delicate yet dangerous look in her eye only made his heart throb more.
"Theres no real meaning to it. No important warrior. Its just...  pretty."
"Pretty." Robb repeated, not even looking at the sword anymore.
(Y/n) looked up from the sword, letting out a soft giggle. "You arnt even looking at the sword."
Robb's smile was soft, he was growing in a beard. It suited his face well but (y/n) was ready for her cleaned up prince back.
"My darling and Queen." Robb hummed, taking her other hand. "You are stunning tonight."
"You are so..." (y/n) huffed. Her head was all messed up, sweaty and worn out. Fighting a war, especially in the capital, was impossibly hard. She wasnt one to just stand back and let her men fight for her.
"Please, you deserve a rest." Robb led (y/n) to the throne.
(Y/n) sat back, leaning in to the throne. It wasnt exactly comfortable but it was powerful. It felt right. It felt like home. The hall was home and this throne was home. Her life and goal.
But nothing was as important as her husband.
"You look perfect." Robb kneeled in front of (y/n). He took his sword out of his sheath, placing it infront of her feet.
"My Queen. My lovey Queen. I am but your humble servant." Robb poured his heart out, words coming out before he could think them over. "Please let me and my men serve you."
"Oh my white wolf." (Y/n) hummed, pulling Robb closer to her. "You are more then a servant." (Y/n) stood up, holding Robbs face. "You are my prince and my knight."
Robbs hands found there way to (y/n)'s waist.
"My queen."
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dany-is-my-queen · 1 year
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A Question Of Loyalty II
Rhaenyra Targaryen x reader, Alicent Hightower x reader
Word count: 6.8k
Note: First of all, I cannot thank all of you guys enough for the love you’ve given to this story. To be completely honest, I don’t know how many chapters are left, maybe 2, maybe even 4. After the 1 season of House of The Dragon ended, I’m in blank really. I’m currently reading Fire & Blood, where “The storm broke and the dragons danced”. So, I don’t want to spoil you, therefore I’m unsure on how much to include in futures chaps… I already have a few ideas though, solid ones that you’ll read soon. Anyways, sorry for my rambling lol. Enjoy! These are flashbacks, to give context of what occurred before the part I.
Part 1
Summary: When dragons of green and dragons of black dance, you have to choose the color that suits you best.
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Oh how you rejoiced in taking off to the mountain tops to liberate your mind for a while. You didn’t take after your father, not being a big fan of the sea and sailing, instead, you fell in love with the skies. Silverwing was the best dragon you could ever dream for. Not having hatched one of your own, unlike Laenor, you claimed the she-dragon when you were only nine, you almost gave Rhaenys a heart attack when she was told you’ve been seen soaring the skies atop of her. “Your great grandmother would be proud. But don’t be hot-headed, Y/N.” The Queen Who Never Was remarked. You wore a grin of satisfaction when your mother praised you.
You admired Queen Alysanne, you’ve read all about her contribution to the Realm in the ruling of her husband, King Jaehaerys I, therefore, you aspired to become like her, that’s why you gathered the courage to mount the silvery beast. She was relatively docile and friendly to strangers, so it was natural the bond that bloomed between you.
You lodged in King’s Landing since then, with Silverwing residing in the Dragon Pit with the rest of the dragons.
“Care to join me for a ride, cousin?” Rhaenyra offered beaming.
“Today is your nameday, my Princess. Do you want to spend it with me?” Rhaenyra was turning ten and five, you were the same age and that aided you to feel comfortable around one another. And you found common ground on flying. She nodded eagerly, grabbing gently your forearm.
“Nothing would make me happier.”
How could you refuse the Princess of the Kingdom? You were being reckless and selfish, to say the least. King Viserys and Queen Aemma were hosting a huge feast and jousting to celebrate the “Realm’s Delight”, but she had other plans in mind. You tagged along without a second thought.
“Where are we going?” You asked once you were ready to take depart.
“Home.”
Dragonstone was a short flight from the Capital, the dank island was forsaken, except for a dozen servants that kept the Castle in good conditions. You landed ashore, unsure on why Rhaenyra would want to be there.
“We could move here. Just the two of us.” The Princess’s voice unwavering. You modestly chuckled. After all, it is rightfully mine”
“It would get a bit lonely, don’t you agree?” You demurred, she shook her head.
“Not really, we have Syrax and Silverwing. They can keep us company.”
“Would that suffice, my Princess?” She looked you straight in the eye, you had never felt so intimate with anyone before.
“It would, for me. I’ll never be the son my father so desperately seeks. There’s no place for me there. Not one that will lead me to a happy ending.” The confession staggered your heart, the princess felt so alone, so isolated, under the shadow of an unborn male child. “We could visit Driftmark from time to time. I know you’d miss your family.” She insisted, you contemplated this absurd notion for a minute.
“What about Alicent?”
“What about her?”
“Wouldn’t you miss her?”
“Would you?”
“Yes. She’s our friend.”
“She’s way too dutiful. She will marry soon and forget about us.”
“You reckon?”
“We could do as we pleased here. I needn’t worry about you marrying some fat Lord. We could wed instead, I’ve read about the ancient Valyrian ceremonies. I would make you happy.” There was no malice, nor ambition, solely innocence and hope. You were bewildered, couldn’t believe what Rhaenyra was professing, she was not jesting. Her stomach knotted, worried you’d look at her with disgust, but you cupped her face in your hands. The moonlight shone on the water and on her blue eyes. Rhaenyra has never looked more beautiful, her hair waving gracefully in the blowing wind, her lips so inviting, flushed cheeks.
The naive, ingenious part of you wanted to seal your consent with a fiery kiss, your first kiss. To affirm to her that you would marry her to the tradition of your Houses. Then that vision faded in your mind, she was the Princess, the only child of the King & Queen. That hunch… telling you she was destined for something greater than breaking the rules and committing this kind of madness. It could never be.
“Nyke’m isse jorrāelagon rūsīr ao. (I’m in love with you) Even if for some bizarre reason my father decided to make me his pronounced heir. I would give it up, I’d give everything up to be with you. In a heartbeat.” In this moment in time, Rhaenyra bared her deepest desires and dreams to you. Despite this, you balked off. Fixing your coat and climbing on Silverwing before she could stop you, dodging her face. This was the right thing to do, the wise action. They wouldn’t let you be together, she was more than you deserved. You felt like an absolute coward, you were. The silver dragon flapped her wings into the night sky, heading back to King’s Landing.
Syrax hopelessly yowled. Which meant she was feeling her rider's heartache.
**********
There are days… where you find yourself wishing you had said yes to Rhaenyra, to had carried on with her unhinged proposal. Your parents haven’t urged you to get married, for which you were grateful for. After the incident with the Princess at Dragonstone, you grew asunder. She avoided you like the plague, barely granting you a word when in the same space. Whereas with Lady Alicent, you only grew closer. You enjoyed her company, and making her laugh.
“Do you get homesick?” Alicent asked while reading a book with you laying on her lap.
“Of course. Being apart from my siblings is hard. But being here allows me to spend time with you. That’s a fair exchange.” You missed the way Alicent blushed. “Do you?”
“Yes, I miss my brother Gwayne. My cousins. Hightower was warmer… I felt closer to the Gods. And to my mother.” You knew she still had a difficult time recalling the demise of her mother.
“Let’s pay a visit to Oldtown then.” You bluntly suggested, attempting to lift her spirts. Alicent giggled.
“It’s a prolonged way from the Keep. It’d take months… my father won’t let me be absent for that long.”
“Lucky for you. I happen to know someone who could take us there in no time.” You smirked, Alicent understanding now who your carriage was.
“Y/N, are you out of your mind! I would fall off Silverwing somewhere across the Roseroad and my body would never be located.” You chuckled at her overemphasis more so cause she possessed a serious look on her delicate features.
“Don’t be dramatic, Alicent. You’d be clutching my waist the entire flight. I’ll have the dragon keepers saddle her properly for your safety. It would be an unforgettable quest. C’mon, my lady. Picture it, instead of reading old tales and histories we can have an experience of our own. We can even make a quick stop on Highgarden, have you been there?” Alicent did want to go, it felt like a lifetime opportunity. If only she wasn’t terrified of mounting a dragon…
“The many rivers, the canal crisscross and its cobbled streets, the breathtaking mansions. I wish to see the place where you grew up. Please?”
It didn’t take much to convince Alicent, she was surprised herself. She was willing to overcome her fear for those beasts… if it meant to share this voyage with you.
Alicent approached your dragon with dread creeping in. “Touch her.” You encouraged her, she delayed, you guided her fingers to the long neck of Silverwing.
“Promise me if I die you’ll say to my family that I’m sorry and that I love them.” Alicent quipped but did mean it. You pressed a peck to her temple to soothe her.
“I’d never let anything happen to you.” That was all the reassurance Alicent needed.
“May I?” You asked gently.
“You may.” You helped her climb, following behind, she cleaved steady your lower back. “I still don’t know how I persuaded my father to let me go.”
“He was in a good mood, I guess. Now, don’t make a hasty move cause if you do Silverwing might toss us away by accident.” You tried to feign a serious tone. She stiffened and tighten her grip, you bursted out laughing again and she nudged you softly.
“Y/N! Don’t tease.”
“Sorry sorry. You’re stuck with me. Sōvēs, Silverwing!” The ride to her home was pure bliss. She never would have wager that she’d enjoy riding in dragonback. She wasn’t sure if it was the thrill of it or the mere fact that you were the one with her. That was the very journey that showed her what true love felt like. Disguised as adventurous friendship, she realized she was head over heels for you.
**********
It hasn't been long since you returned to the Capital from your excursion with Lady Alicent. You sat next to her at the tournaments, this time celebrating the upcoming birth of the King's first son. Rhaenyra watched you from her seat. You felt quite uncomfortable, more so because that fire inside you kept burning wildly whenever she was around. There was a new knight in town, Criston Cole, you overheard, the Realm’s Delight seemed smitten by him, and you suddenly felt sick, jealousy twisting in, you paid no attention, Alicent was gossiping about the other participants.
Queen Aemma died in childbirth, you wished you were there for Rhaenyra, but she built her walls higher than they have ever been.
Rhaenyra was proclaimed heir by the King, as you once suspect it would happen. She’s destined for greater things. The same tape replaying in your head. The Lords from all across the Kingdoms swore fealty to her, your House among them.
A few moons passed and Alicent was betrothed to the King, news that surprised Rhaenyra, though not you. It relieved you, for he wasn’t to take you nor little Laena to wife. Alicent has told you about her private visits to Viserys, solemnly swearing it was his father’s goal all along.
“My interest for men is as dull as dishwater.” She commented one day. Gaining your curiosity.
“Whatever do you mean? I know you desire not to marry him. Does that…-“
“I’m not going to elaborate. Just… remember this. I will always be yours.”
“Wha-“
“I need to prepare. See you at the ceremony, lady Y/N.” She ran out, leaving you very, very confused.
**********
It’s been four years since the royal wedding. Four years since you decided to leave court to be with your family and stop pondering about her, or rather, about them. Then proceeded to head for the fighting on the Stepstones, aiming to bring some help to your father and brother, only to be dismissed upon your arrival. You argued with your sire at the Valeryon camp on Dwarfstone. “No, Y/N. Not a chance.” Corlys rejected you. There was no bargain on the table. “This is no playground, no training yard. This is a dangerous zone. I cannot and will not risk your life.”
“But father- my dragon can make the difference, I’m capable of fighting as well-“
“I know, sweet daughter. I know you are. Even more capable than half my men here, but you are no soldier, Y/N. You have no practice in these things. I would never forgive myself if anything were to happen while you’re in this bloodshed.” Your father finished explaining his concern. You were upset about it, by all means. How were you to learn if not by being in an actual war.
That didn’t halt you though. Laenor disagreed at the beginning. Unhappy to oblige to your request, you implored for his help on this one. And so he gave it. He unfolded the plan of supposedly surrender to the Crabfeeder and the Triarchy, proposing a desperate gambit, using Daemon as bait to lure the Crabfeeder's forces into the open to eliminate them all at once. “Gods be good, if father kills me after this, know that it’ll be on you.”
You ready yourself, locating on the top of the highest peak, standing by until further signal from Laenor.
It was time when you spotted Seasmoke emerged. You trailed behind them, setting ablaze the Triarchy soldiers astride Silverwing, wiping out the archers overlooking the battlefield. A lost arrow almost hitting you, you dodged it effectively. As they forced reel, Corlys and Vaemond leaded a brutal counterattack against the enemy, while Daemon pursued Drahar into the caves. As the Velaryon forces claimed victory, Daemon dragged the upper half of Drahar's bisected corpse behind him. Your father’s vassals gazed upon the skies to find you and your she-dragon roaring with strength.
**********
You were back at Driftmark. Your father scolded you, and Laenor. But it was worth it, you knew deep down he was proud of you. Quite the woman you were becoming, what did you need a husband for?
Your mother welcomed you with a hug that lasted for hours, she also reprimanded you though, “Still hot-headed.” And Laena hugged you as well. “I can’t believe you went off to war to escape your feelings from a certain Targaryen princess.” Your sister hissed, mocking you.
“I can’t believe you claimed Vhagar.” She smiled warmly at you. “I’ve missed you, little sister.”
“So have I.” Then you proceeded to visit your dragons.
**********
“Rhaenyra flew in here weeks ago. You were on the Stepstones. She seemed to be in a hurry. Like she sought rescue.” Laena nonchalantly depicted. Why would she?
“What did she want?”
“Other than to say hello to her favorite cousin, I have no idea. She said something about the King organizing a tour for her with the most noble lords in the Realm. At this time, she is to continue holding audiences for her hand in marriage.”
“Oh?” Rhaenyra on the search for a husband… that didn’t sit well with you.
“She’s to be here too.” The youngest Valeryon added.
“I doubt that she’ll find her golden knight here.” You scoffed, you couldn’t face her, not yet. “However, none of my business.” Laena looked at you incredulously but didn’t push it. “I will go to King’s Landing to check on the Queen. I didn’t even say goodbye the last time. Accompany me?”
“I’d love to, but I don’t want to leave mother. And you will surely be wrapped up.”
“Off with me then.” You said your farewells to your parents & siblings and set your route to the Capital.
**********
It was perfect timing, you thought. The Princess was touring the Realm, therefore she wouldn’t be any near the Keep, you could visit Alicent without fretting of seeing Rhaenyra.
You still loved her, that was very much true. It was different now though… you felt braver than you did those days back in Dragonstone when you fled and abandoned her. You owe an apology, to both of them really. “I’ll always be yours.” What did Alicent mean with that? Always be your best friend? Did she was enamored by you? Was that another reason for the girls to be in odds with one another? Were you to blame?
You arrived at the gates of the castle, you were nervous but masked it pretty well, then proceeded to greet the King, “Lady Y/N! So good to have you back. Your non-appearance hasn’t gone unnoticed.” Viserys hospitably welcomed you.
“Thank you, your Grace. I’ve missed it as badly. How’s Princess Rhaenyra?”
“She’s… disobeying me as usual. Don’t know if you are aware but we arranged a tour for her to choose her own consort. Yet she came back earlier than scheduled, moons for it to be over.” You opened your eyes in realization of what that meant, fortunately Viserys didn’t notice it.
“I see, your grace. That sounds a lot like her.”
“You’ve grown distant. That saddens me. Since her fifteenth nameday she’s hasn’t been the same, she’s upset and depressed. Perhaps you could rekindle your relation with her now that you’re both around.” He encouraged you, you played the part.
“You’re right, you’re Grace. That would warm my heart, hopefully hers too.” Rhaenyra did remember what happened that evening, it still burdened her, guilt swamping all over.
The tide was set the other way around. But you longed to see her, them.
Daemon was there, as expected. And you were invited to the gathering held in the goodswood to the younger prince’s honor. The King got somewhat drunk, and was sharing stories of his teenage years along with Daemon, who had a smirk on his face. The Queen and the Princess were there as well.
“Oh lady Y/N. Glad you could join us.” Viserys alluded to you in such an effortless manner, you approached them, situating in between him and Rhaenyra. “You know, this is also for you. I heard about your bravery on the latest war. You did brought fire and blood to the enemy. What is it you want as a reward for your courage? Never would expect you were a warrior but you are very much like your sire Lord Corlys.” Daemon sniggered under his teeth, and Alicent was blowed.
“It is not glory I’m after, nor a reward, your Grace. But I truly appreciate your nice words.”
“How modest. You’re one of a kind, my lady. Lucky the man that gets to keep you.”
“Yes, indeed very lucky.” Daemon mocked. You paid no mind. Viserys spoke again. Did the prince was always this annoying?
“My lady wife has told me about the trip you once ventured in together. Wandering the skies on dragonback. If I had a dragon myself, I could take her on a similar adventure. Just like my grandparents once did.”
“Yes, husband. I had a great time with lady Y/N. We visited the Citadel also, it was magical. I cherish it dearly.” Alicent reminisced fondly, so did you. The Princess shifted awkwardly.
“If you excuse me, I’ll go see the new tapestries displayed in the gallery.” She excused herself and dashed from you. Daemon tracking after her.
Shortly after, you requested to speak to the Queen alone.
“Before I start apologizing, let my tell you. You look stunning in that dress.”
“I was not sure that the Targaryen colors would fit me.” Alicent bashfully answered the compliment. You admired her under the afterglow.
“They certainly do. Red and black highlight your skin, your Grace.” She was as red as the morning sun, feeling like lady Alicent Hightower again, not “The Queen.”
“You flatter me. But what is that that I heard that you went to war? You didn’t even say goodbye, Y/N. I was left alone.” You felt bad, too selfish really to stick around Alicent’s side, but living in the same place that the silver-head was way too intoxicating, you wagered she hated you, not realizing you had hurt Her Grace along the way. “I…- realized that I have few friends lately.”
“I’m sorry, Alicent. I needed time away from court and also, you had your duties. Tending to the King, looking after your children. I can’t wait to meet the little princelings.” She softened, albeit, it was true, she had limited time to spare yet she would have found it for you.
“It’s okay, Y/N. You came back.”
“The King requests your presence, my Queen.” Rhaenyra declared, faking a courtesy.
“Thank you, stepdaughter.” She barely spared a glance to the Princess. “We will resume our conversation later.” You bowed and she was gone. Rhaenyra was walking away from you.
“Princess… may I speak with you for a minute?” You attempted. Rhaenyra didn’t stop her pace. “Rhaenyra.”
“My uncle is waiting for me.”
“How long are you going to ignore me?” The question coming more like an accusation. She turned around.
“I? You were the one that brushed me aside years ago. You didn’t care about seeking me out. You then left the city. You return and launch into her arms first. I do not owe you anything, Y/N” You didn’t have a reply, for it was the truth.
You did jilt her, and she was far from being over it. But you fairly did leave because you loved her, more than your heart could admit, and the fact that you couldn't be with her was too much to bear. Little did you know that that was all she wanted, even though you spurned her once you were younger, she still wished to court you, woo you. You were dying to tell her she swept you off your feet a long while back.
A big terrible lack of communication set your paradise ablaze, the two of you burned and turned to cinders, but… where there were fire, ashes remain, right? You were a wine stained gown, one Rhaenyra could no longer wear.
**********
Did Rhaenyra resented you? Or did she harbored her old feelings for you? She was a mystery, one you wanted to unravel. You love her, not past tense. You love her in the present.
Unfortunately, you couldn’t resume your talk with Her Grace, a servant girl came shyly to inform you that she was nursing her newborn daughter Haelena, and later the King might “need” her. You didn’t dwell on the last part, as it was a duty she had, yet in her face was written her distaste for her obligations.
Later that evening you derived in a lengthen bath. You lit up some candles, wrote a couple of letters meant for Driftmark and leaned on the big window frame that had a gorgeous view of the city. The Dragonpit and the Sept could be spotted from there. Averting your thoughts as far as possible from the Targaryen Princess, to no avail, then back to the young Queen, “Alicent must be exhausted, the King ought to let her have a break” you pondered.
When slumber was finally kicking in, all of the sudden, you listened loud thumps on your door, it startled you. One, two, three times in a row. You rose and unlocked it to find the culprit of your insomnia. The Princess was wearing common page-boy’s clothes. Her hair was messy, her lips slightly swallowed? She was trying to catch her breath.
“Ummh…-“ She studied you for a lingering moment.
“Are you not going to let me through?” You stepped aside while you closed the door. Puzzled and doubtful of her abrupt appearance.
“The hour is quite late, Princess. Are you lost?” You cursed and cringed at the dumb question you had just made. “Are you tipsy? And why are you wearing that?” Rhaenyra seemed overwhelmed by your interrogation.
“Nyke’ve missed ao, ao kostagon’t imagine skorkydoso olvie.” (I’ve missed you, you cannot imagine how much) The Realm’s Delight blunted out, you hardened. It does something to you when she starts speaking in Valyrian… “Skoro syt haven’t ao sought issa hen? (Why haven’t you sought me out?) Ao jikagon naejot zȳhon, se dōrī rūsīr issa. Skoro syt?” (You go to her, and not to me. Why?) Rhaenyra inquired with bitterness in her airing. You focused on your feet, a coward you were.
“Nyke…-“ (I…) What the hell were you suppose to say? She horned in, stepping closer to you. The atmosphere growing thicker and thicker.
“Ao fucking gūrotan zȳhon isse Silverwing. (You fucking took her on Silverwing) She snarled. Gaomagon ao jorrāelagon zȳhon?” (Do you love her?) Mere inches from your mouth, Rhaenyra stood dangerously near, not being cautious at all. You were to give in. “Daor, ao don’t. Ao jorrāelagon issa.” (No, you don’t. You love me) That was an statement. Her body was calling on you. You melted under her fiery, powerful gaze and grabbed onto dear life to her waist, splashing your lips with hers with pure desire.
Those embers rising from the dead, turning into raging flames. Rhaenyra shoved you roughly to your bed muttering no more word, she unbuttoned her shirt, removed your own garments just as rapidly, you were now completely naked.
“Take off my pants.” She commanded, you unfastened the zip and she climbed to your lap, tangling herself onto you, kissing you again. “I want your fingers inside me, your mouth, I want you.” She impeled, a wild animal ready to attack their prey. “I need you.”
Rhaenyra mentioned nothing about loving you that night, nothing about running away together or anything of the sort. Her hunger and thirst for you the only things present in that room. She was intoxicating, addicting, all your cares in the world gone once you were inside her and she you. Nothing else mattered.
You’ve been up in the clouds with her, and now you understood what it felt like to be consumed by dragon fire.
**********
The aftermath of such events have not left consequences, but what you learned afterwards stirred your feels.
In the morrow, the sun rays were making their way in, you found a small letter under your pillow, you unfolded it and peeped at Rhaenyra’s fancy handwriting. “Rhaenagon issa rȳ Rhaeny’s Hill, nyke jaelagon naejot show ao mirros.” (Meet me at Rhaeny’s Hill, I want to show you something)
You were beyond content for the night prior, Rhaenyra was all you ever wanted, the love of your life, you naively convinced yourself. Mayhaps this time around you could declare your love, flee to Dragonstone and wed. Fuck them all, you thought. We will make our stand if anyone should dare oppose. Surely she would leave it all behind, like she said those years ago.
There was already another potential heir, Aegon, Alicent’s son would be accepted, all Viserys had to do was change the proclamation. Rhaenyra and you could have your happy ending.
You were on your way to assemble with her, but halted on the way to glimpse at Rhaenyra and Alicent seemingly arguing. You’ve never been one to eavesdrop, yet curiosity got the best of you.
“What happened last night, Rhaenyra?” Alicent bluntly asked, she was taken aback. So were you. Alicent was angry no doubt. “My father made worrying allegations, that you’ve been with your uncle.”
“Well, yes. I haven’t seen him in years. We went out to have some fun in the city. What of it? Other than sneaking out of the castle and drinking wine. I did not do anything serious.”
“He said that you fucked Daemon in a pleasure house!” Alicent lowered her tone and curtly exclaimed, you made sense of the sentence. Your heart sank at it. Did she? she was with you…
“That is a vile accusation.” Rhaenyra retorted.
“You Targaryens do have queer costumes.”
“Daemon took me to several taverns, we got very drunk, yes. I wanted to go home but he wished to continue. He was my escort and without him I couldn’t head back, we ended up in a brothel, we did see a show there but I was solely a spectator. Then he ran off with some whore therefore I had to make my way to the Keep on my own anyway.” She concluded by embellishing word-for-word that "Daemon never touched her" at all and swore this on her mother's memory. If that was the version she had explained to you, would you actually believe it? Nothing else happened… Something was amiss.
“How do you think Y/N will react to these news?”
“She need not to find out.” Rhaenyra was now… planning on deliberating keeping secrets from you. Not from your protection but to save face. She went to you the way she did, because she WAS to have sex with Daemon but he got cold feet, so she then went to her alternative, to satisfy her own needs, ones aroused by another person? Your eyes were welling with sour tears. You were only a second choice, she didn’t miss you, she didn’t even love you anymore. You were merely a vessel, one she needed to find release, no love was involved.
“Why do you keep behaving like this, after me and the King have strived to find you a good, suitable match, you go putting yourself in a position where your virtue could be call into question. Spitting the ones that care?”
You ran off, unable to keep listening to the bickering, you climbed onto your dragon as fast as you could, shrugging off the one belonging to the culprit of your crying. You didn’t show to the Hill, for obvious reasons. Leaving Rhaenyra waiting until sundown with your favorite flowers and the same unhinged proposal.
**********
A couple of days have passed and you barely have spent time in the castle, instead riding all day. Alicent haven’t told you what she has learned, yet the rumors were all around like flies. You knew she didn’t because she was trying to shield you, to spare you the pain, not to save Rhaenyra of shame.
On the the third day since the conversation between them, it was announced that you would be traveling to High Tide, to propose the marriage between your brother Laenor and Rhaenyra. It hasn’t even been a week yet and now this? Rhaenyra was becoming your sister? The Gods were being cruel to you, punishing you for your sins, most likely. You knew of Laenor’s nature, as he did yours. As a matter of fact, your parents also knew, Corlys only to waved it off describing them as “phases”.
Lord Lyonel Strong has been made the new Hand of the King, surely Rhaenyra had Ser Otto dismissed from his rank for filling her father’s ears with his denouncements. He has always been calculated, he wants a Hightower on the throne.
It was good to be back, home always offering some fresh air. Laena politely invited the guests in, in the courtyard was Laenor with Ser Joffrey Lonmouth, a good friend of yours too, and his closest “companion”. You hugged them tightly, no welcoming party for your father was one to hold grudges, since the King rejected both his offers to marry their daughters a rift has been set between House Velaryon and the Iron Throne, you never would have wed His Grace though, thanks the heavens he didn’t persuade it nor ponder about the it too much.
“It is so rare to see you on a boat.” Your mother jested. “You never grant Silverwing a break.” You tittered warmly.
“Wherever has Laena gone to?”
“She’s with Rhaenyra. They’re having breakfast. Wanna join them?”
“No, no. It’s fine, I’m not hungry. How’s Meleys?” You shifted awkwardly and changed the subject, staring at the sea.
“Are you okay, daughter?” She looked at you expectantly. “I know that your love for her runs deep. I’m your mother, dear. A mother knows her children’s heart. Don’t shun your emotions, my darling girl. There’s nothing to be embarrass of. This is what’s best for our Houses, for the Realm. Your brother will do a good consort, your father may take advantage for his pride, know that I do not. I care about your happiness as well, you’ll find a pretty lady, or a maiden, you’ll find someone for you to spend your life with. That in my bones I know. And your mother will support you no matter what.” Rhaenys embraced you firmly, pecking your forehead. How lucky you were to have her.
Laenor encountered you nearby the beach. He approached you.
“I’m not enthusiastic for this marriage, Y/N. Not more than you, or her. It does not mean anything, I have just talked to her… we’ve come to a mutual arrangement; we will perform our duty for our families, produce heirs… but otherwise we will both continue having our own private romantic relationships. It will be hard, painful even. I am sorry, Y/N, so so sorry.”
“If I was a man, I could wed her instead of you. Everything would be perfect. Everything. A secret behind close doors…- I don’t know if I can do it.”
“Joffrey agreed to it. Better than nothing, better to lose you. She is very keen to you, she claimed to love somebody, genuinely… she did not say who. But she assured it, she was referring to you, Y/N.”
“It is not your fault, Laenor. I… I’m doomed to feel the way I do. I wish I could get over her and go on with my life.” There was resentment in your voice, hurt.
He gave you an apologetic smile, and squeezed your hand in a comforting manner. You would care not for the Throne nor political station, but for taking her to wife, a sad, sad reality.
**********
You were prepared to set sail, this time your whole family attending the latest royal wedding. You couldn’t find sleep as usual and headed to the balcony of the castle. A turmoil, one you so wretchedly wanted to get rid of.
“You are very, very elusive, my lady.” Rhaenyra’s voice startled you, your only exit was jumping off the cliff. “I’ve been trying to locate you.”
“Princess.” Again, she looked gorgeous, her hair down on her shoulders.
“You didn’t show up. Are we back here again?” We shared that night together, we were one. And yet… I’m once more a stranger to you?” She spat, wounded by your actions as if you were the one to blame.
“You got what you wanted, Rhaenyra. You have no use for me now.”
“What? What are you talking about? I need you, Y/N. Now more than ever.” She strolled closer, attempting to caress you. You deflected, her touch would only ignite a further wildfire.
“You needed somebody to fuck with!”
“Has Alicent uttered her gossips again? She does that to tear us apart, she’s always aiming for that.”
“No, Rhaenyra. Alicent has nothing to do with this, drop it.”
“My lady… I’m so confused right now. I came to you because I did miss you, we were separated for too long it was time we reconciled. I still want you, Y/N. As much as I did when we were fifteen. Things have changed, I’m the heir to the Throne, I’m to marry your brother, who would have visualized any of this? There’s a role I got to fulfill now, something that’s bigger than both of us. But that does not mean that we cannot still be intimate, I spoke to Laenor about it and he’s agreed.”
“You want me as what, as a lover? A friend? A companion? A whore?” The last noun was a whack to Rhaenyra, a punch to her heart and an insult to her alone.
“You’re unbelievable.” She stormed out from the rooftop, leaving you sniveling, for the hundredth time.
**********
The long-awaited royal wedding ceremonies finally began; first a grand feast in the Red Keep, to be followed by seven days of tournaments and spectacle, culminating with the marriage ceremony. The Velaryons arrived on their dragons, Laenor on Seasmoke, Laena on the older Vaghar, and your mother Rhaenys on the Red Queen, Meleys. Meanwhile, your father Corlys, yourself and the full Velaryon fleet rolled in the harbour, (Silverwing was nesting on the Dragonpit) as the city's bells tolled out to greeting you for the festivities. Alicent saluted you warmly, taking in your accent, you reciprocated.
At the Great Hall; Viserys and Rhaenyra sat at the middle of the high table set up in front of the throne's base and received each group of Lords with their respective families. You decided to contrast your sibling’s outfits by wearing an imposing golden dress. At the high table you sat beside Rhaenys and Laena. Daemon appeared out of nowhere, but you paid no heed to him.
Shortly after, Alicent entered through the main doors, intentionally interrupting the King in the middle of his speech. She was dressing in a green gown, her features cold as ice.
You engaged in a cordial chat with some of the Tyrell acquaintances you’ve made while visting Highgarden, Rhaenyra and Laenor were on the dance floor sharing the first ball, couples following behind.
“May I have this dance, my lady?” The youngest son of Lord Tully submitted his hand to you, he was being a total gentleman, but the glare Rhaenyra sent his way shot to kill.
You flown graciously side by side to her, cursing your pace, she saw this a good opportunity to whisper with audacity; Issi ao naejot sagon bisa āeksio’s, līve pār? (Are you to be this lord’s whore, then?) Rhaenyra taunted you, thanks the Gods no one there understood Valyrian, you didn’t get the chance to defend yourself at her boldly rudeness when you were swapped to dance with Laenor.
“You’ll have dozens of suitors after my wedding, dear sister. I bet none of them will be as infatuated with you as the Green Queen herself.” You poked him softly, he chortled. From across the room, Alicent was staring at you in awe, she was drooling and she care not to camouflage it.
However, you got distracted when you observed Rhaenyra and Daemon speaking to one another awfully close, it angered you, how dare them? Your blood boiling ever hotter when he grabbed harshly her cheeks, in an attempt to kiss her. The entire Hall was interrupted by a piercing cry from a different part of the feast floor.
A brawl has broken out in the packed room, but it became clear that at the center of it Criston Cole has begun pummeling Joffrey Lonmouth. Your brother managed to struggle his way through to them and tackled Criston off Joffrey, but Criston rose and punched out Laenor, resuming his aggressive punches. You watched from afar, having reached the high table, you spotted Rhaenyra being carried in the arms of Harwin Strong, you sighed but worried for your brother. That fucker murdered your brother’s lover and no one did nothing to seize him.
As the result of it, some hours later, all of the guests have been ordered out and King Viserys has cancelled the seven days of festivities and games leading to the wedding ceremony. Instead, determined to finish this as quickly as possible, Viserys called in the High Septon to wed Rhaenyra and Laenor in a private exchange of vows in front of their respective parents and close advisors, you among them of course, too shocked for the queer behavior of that “knight” (if he can be considered as that anymore). They were proclaimed husband and wife, Rhaenyra pretended you were not there, your heart breaking for the whole situation, and for the loss of your friend and your brother’s paramount. Alicent in the other corner with Viserys, he dropped to the floor in a full faint. They are not to consummate their marriage tonight, that was unquestionable.
**********
You felt nauseous, tossing and turning, you wanted to go flying but Silverwing was most certainly napping, you didn’t want to bother her just because you were a mess, again. The way Daemon and Rhaenyra were interacting with each other, you were repulsed by his fucking cockiness in her fucking wedding, her disrespectful and degrading comment. Recalling not so long ago she was in a brothel with him doing the Gods know what, jealousy, anger, sadness… all flooding you. And to make matters worse, she was officially married to Laenor, how were you to endure it? She didn’t fight for you, didn’t show you more than lust. It was too much, simply too much.
You got out of your chambers and found yourself on the Queen’s quarters, fortunately the King was beyond worn out from today to request her, you didn’t bother on waiting for Ser Harold to announce your presence, you shouted for her. “My Queen! My Queen!” You alarmed her and she was confused as to why would you be yelling her name this tardy.
“Ser Harold, you may go. Lady Y/N, come on in.” He did as instructed, you walked inside, she scowled, was she angry now too?
“Would you slap me if I were to kiss you right now, your Grace?” You cut to the chase. “May I?” Already breathing her in.
“You may.”
You pulled Alicent to you, pressed her mouth to yours, she was indeed mad, for Criston has told her he eavesdropped the night the accusation of the Princess and her uncle transpired, he longed for her as well, so out of range, by the brief chat he had with Ser Joffrey, and the constant rejection of the Princess, he had a breakdown. Alicent’s heart broke too, but in all honesty she saw it coming, she was only relived neither of you could get the other one with child, yet her hatred for Rhaenyra only grew darker. Alicent loathed Rhaenyra, but she did not despised you, on the contrary, she adored you with all her might, she was sick of being repressed by her feelings, by her “sins”, that she bursted and kissed you back like she’s never kissed anyone before.
She undressed more than her body to you, she demonstrated all the things she’s been feeling since you were on dragonback together, not a speck of regret in her. She was shy at first, way too unexperienced unlike the Princess, altogether she find out women are the only ones that make her feel this way. Never one of breaking vows, that night she stopped being a wife, a queen, she was a teenage girl making love with the one she loved, and you, you took her as she was, a mother of two, the consort of the King, a childhood friend. You were to discover your feelings for her, and it wasn’t like you were using her to get the Targaryen Princess out of your system… for it was impossible. It was all connected, but that night you made sure to reciprocate all that Alicent felt for you, and it wasn’t one sided at all.
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total-lost-boys-simp · 5 months
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Water Might Be Thicker Than Blood
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The Lost Boys x Fém! Reader
Chapter 1
Master list / Chapter 2
After her parents’ divorce (Y/N) had no choice but to move to Santa Carla with her mother and two brothers. While getting to know the area of her new ‘home’ (Y/N) meets a group of interesting guys that show her what it means to be outgoing and carefree again. The downfall of it all is how her family might react to her new relationships and how she might have to choose between the two. Will (Y/N) leave her new found family behind to repair her old one or will the conflict with her mom & brothers show her that maybe water is thicker than blood?
PS let me know if you want to be added to a tag list!
Oh“ ew! (Y/N) knock it off!” A blonde, small, teenager shouted from the passenger seat of a Toyota Land Cruiser. His dog barked at the commotion.
“Oh whatever Sam, stop being such a little kid,” Said a fit brunette young man in the back with (Y/N) in the seat next to him.
“I’m nooot, it’s just gross!” Sam said, looking back at his two siblings.
“C’mon, what I do isn’t nearly as bad as what Michael does!” Exclaimed (Y/N) as she points to the brunette.
“And what is it that Michael does, (Y/N)?” Asks their mother, Lucy, from the driver’s seat.
With a panicked look (Y/N) looks over at Michael who, by this point, is giving her a look that says, “If you tell mom anything I will rip you limb from limb!’’ So she doesn’t say anything at all other than a small grumbled “Nothing.” Their mom goes back to driving asking Sam to find a station to listen to as they drive along the coast.
The breeze was nice and full, nothing like the beating sun of dry Arizona weather. That was probably one of the only things (Y/N) was excited about, it wasn’t very easy to be excited about anything anymore. The nasty divorce that caused her family to move, her friends ditching her almost a week before she left, her partner saying there wasn’t a point in being together anymore. (Y/N) felt almost completely alone, she knew she wasn’t actually alone...she had her brothers and her mom but their relationships faltered a little during this big move, things just felt off now. Lost in her thoughts (Y/N) didn’t even notice the switching of the stations and the bantering until her mother said, “Hey, we’re almost there!” as she drove.
(Y/N)’s head shot up from the resting position on the back of the seat, “What really!?” she exclaimed as she stuck half her body out the window. Seeing a huge billboard for the town: SANTA CARLA it said in bright bold letters.
“Ugh, what was that smell?” Sam asked as he scrunched his nose, looking out the window.
(Y/N)’s question earned no response but Sam’s did...it’s just because he’s the youngest.
“Ah! That’s the ocean air,” Lucy exhaled as she drove further down the scenic route.
“Smells like someone died,” Sam huffed out in disgust as he looked around.
Woah… (Y/N) thought as she spotted the back of the billboard “MURDER CAPITAL OF THE WORLD”, shoving her body back into her seat, “You saw that too...right?” she asked her brother as she looked over at him on the other side of the car. “Yeah,” was all he said as their mother drove them and their little brother further. Something already felt off about this town.
As they drove around town they saw all sorts of creative areas and interesting people from ‘all walks of life’. Santa Carla already seemed like a huge melting pot. As the small family stopped for gas they had the chance to walk around a little bit and get to know the place. (Y/N) didn’t really feel the need though, even though the opportunity was given to her...she just wasn’t comfortable yet. Staying behind with her mom and Michael she asked, “So mom, how long do you think we’ll be staying with Grandpa?”
“Oh I don’t know sweetie, maybe a few months to a year...however long it takes us to get back on our feet,” Lucy said as she pulled her daughter in for a hug.
“Ya know mom, I could always help out, like get a job?”
“Oh (Y/N) first your brother and now you too! I don’t want either of you to focus on that, just focus on school!” She exclaimed as she shook her daughter by the shoulders.
“Okay okay, all I’m saying is that you shouldn’t be afraid to ask, we love you mom and we’re there for you,” (Y/N) tried to comfort her mom, giving her another hug.
“I know sweetie, thank you,” said Lucy as she gave her daughter a kiss on the head.
Soon after that Sam came running up to the gas station with his dog, Nanook. “Mom mom” he shouted, “There’s an amusement park right on the beach!” Though his excitement was pushed aside by more pressing matters. Lucy handed Sam some cash and told him, “Sam, tell those kids to get something to eat.” She pointed at two children digging around in a dumpster, one with frizzy brown hair and another in a navy blue jacket. Sam ran over to the kids all the while Michael was asking the gas station attendant if there were any available jobs to which the guy said “Nothing legal.” This made (Y/N) laugh a little given that it really says a lot about the type of area this is.
Michael started taking his red dirt bike off the bed of the uhaul trailer when (Y/N) asked, “What ya doing Mikey?” with a big smile.
“None of your business,” her annoyed brother responded.
“You suuuure?” She asked again.
“What do you want (Y/N)?” Michael asked, now very annoyed with his sister.
“I want to ride your bike because I’m tired of sitting in the back seat behind our ratty little brother,” (Y/N) said as she crossed her arms.
“Fine, get on,” Michael said as he swung his leg over and kick-started his bike.
As they all drove further from the coast the town became rural and almost unrecognizable. Possibly the craziest thing though was a large wood cabin decorated in wood carvings and totem poles. As they came to a stop everyone got off & out of their vehicles and looked around at the...unique structure. “What is this place?” Asked (Y/N) confused on why this even exists. Her brother, Michael, just nudged her as a form of telling her to shut up. It was something he did frequently. As the four of them walked up the path to the front door they noticed a man laying out on the front porch, full on laying on the ground with nothing over him. Lucy picked up pace and crouched down next to him asking, “Dad?” and again, “Dad?”
“Looks like he’s dead” Said Michael trying to get a better look at the body.
“”No, he’s just a deep sleeper,” Said the three’s mother.
“If he’s dead, can we go back to Phoenix?” Asked Sam to which his mother looked up at him with a disappointed stare.
“Sam, dude, so not the time,” (Y/N) nudged his shoulder.
Suddenly the old man on the ground jumped his head up and shouted, “Playing dead! ...And from what I heard, doing a damn good job of it too!”
“Daaad!” Lucy dragged out in relief as she hugged her father on the floor, “Oh dad,” she continued.
With that little kerfuffle out of the way the kids walked back to the car grabbing their belongings they brought with them from Arizona. (Y/N) just thought about how their mom took everything but the kitchen sink from their home back in Phoenix. She had all these things from the old house, most likely nowhere to really put it and yet Lucy won’t let her kids help out. And she has the audacity to give away their money to people nearby like they don’t need it themselves! Not that it doesn’t show care and compassion, it’s just that… (Y/N) understands that her mother wants to feel independent and collected just so her kids don’t worry but it’s plain as day she’s panicked and struggling… the only one who doesn’t see it is Sam.
Lucy isn’t the only one stressing; (Y/N), Michael, and even Sam- in his own way are having difficulties coping with the divorce. Michael started to isolate himself even more from his siblings and mom. Sam acts normal but the look on his face as he walked out that door and their father didn’t even spare him a glance...it said a lot. (Y/N) would argue with Lucy. Not because she thought she was a bad mother but because (Y/N) didn’t fully understand why she couldn’t stay with their dad. It wasn’t a good time for anyone right now but Lucy hoped that by moving to Santa Carla the kids could find new friends and new lives better than their old ones.
The kids walked inside, the boys in front with (Y/N) following suit. Looking around, everything was weirder inside than it was on the outside. Mounted fish, deer, lions, even animal hyde lamps. The cabin seemed bigger on the inside with its wide open family room and large walkway to the kitchen.
“This is a pretty cool place,” Michael said as he looked around carrying his weights and some clothes.
Sam, who was holding a folded stack of dish towels and a pot on his head- for whatever reason, said, “Yeah for the Texas Chainsaw Massacre.”
“C’mon Sam, give mom a break,” Michael replied as he walked through the kitchen and into the sun room.
“Yeah, it’s not like we had a lot of options…” (Y/N) said as she avoided the kitchen clothes line of socks and sat some boxes behind the kitchen island.
“What’s wrong with this picture?” Sam didn’t even wait for an answer, “Have you guys seen a tv? I haven't seen a tv guys!” Sam lightly thumped the boxes onto a wooden table next to the island.
“You know what it means when there’s no tv?” The blonde teen asked.
(Y/N) mocked her brother by speaking with him in unison, “No MTV.”
The child looked in her direction narrowing his eyes as if to say, you’ll pay for that.
Michael, curling his weights, said, “Sammy we’re flat broke.”
“He knows Michael, he just suffers from spoiled youngest sibling syndrome,” (Y/N) said as she leaned on the kitchen counter.
“Haha… Let’s go look upstairs, I call first pick for rooms!” Sam said as he ran out of the kitchen.
Michael sprinted after his younger brother shouting, “Oh no you don’t!”
As (Y/N) walked up the stairs following her brothers she just thought, I wasn’t joking. Sam was kind of the favorite child, not because their parents didn’t love all of them, but look at Sam. The clothes he wears aren’t exactly inexpensive and he did just complain about not seeing a tv… and demanded changing the radio on the drive here. Those very well could just be normal teen behavior but it could also be the effect of a dad with a white collar job and an ex-hippie mom who believed that saying the word ‘no’ to her kids was too harsh a punishment. (Y/N) loves her little brother, of course she does. She knows that when it comes down to it, he’s willing to do anything for his brother and sister, and especially their mom. She still wishes he wasn’t so goddamn annoying though.
“Okay so- Oh my god what are you doing?!” (Y/N) shouted in a snort of laughter as she walked into her middle child of a brother flipping the younger one by his waist. Immediately after Sam bit Michael's leg causing the brunette to drop his little brother who ran away.
“Move!” Sam exclaimed to (Y/N) who was blocking the door.
“Oh no you don’t! This is too funny!” She said in a fit of laughter trying to keep her little brother in the room.
To no avail, Sam ran out but not before (Y/N) and Michael ran after him down the stairs. Sam let out a chaotic laugh as he ran.
When he saw his mom walk in he shouted, “Mom- Mom you gotta help me!”
“Soon,” Lucy said with plastic cover clothes slinged over her shoulder.
Michael jumped over the railing of the stairs while (Y/N) kept stepping down- like a normal person.
“Hey no running in the house!” Lucy shouted trying to get her kids to calm down.
They weren’t listening to a word she said as they ran for the giant sliding double doors. All three stopped immediately as Sam opened said doors. A glowing red light filled a work space with a table covered in animal skulls. Antlers and sharp bones stuck out in every direction to the point of making the table top disappear.
“Woah…” Was all (Y/N) could say as she was both curious and mildly disturbed.
Michael leaned over their little brother saying, “Talk about the Texas Chainsaw Massacre…”
“Rules!” Grandpa piped up, “We got some rules around here,” he got the kids’ attention as he stopped in his tracks with a large box in hand. Placing the box down he motioned for the kids to follow him. They all walked over to the kitchen where Grandpa opened the fridge.
Flipping up a cut out on the second shelf labeled ‘old fart’ he said, “Second shelf is mine, that’s where I keep my root beer and my double thick oreo cookies.”
Before anyone could say anything he went on, “Nobody touches the second shelf but me,” as he slammed the fridge door closed.
The old man walked off expecting his three grandchildren to follow, saying something about not moving anything. Instead Michael snapped his fingers at Sam to get his attention. The older boy pointed to a plant outside the window, thinking it was marajuana, and motioned his fingers as if he were smoking a blunt.
Looking over at her brothers (Y/N) thought, God they’re idiots, that’s just a yard plant, it’s like they’ve never seen weed a day in their lives…
“You’d be dumb enough to eat a roach,” (Y/N) said as she looked at Michael before following their grandpa. Michael had a tendency for giving into peer pressure while still trying to make it seem like it was his idea.
“Hey Grandpa, is it true that Santa Carla is the murder capitol of the world?” Michael asked as he followed behind his sister.
“Well there’s some bad elements around here…” Grandpa said as he grabbed the tv guide.
Shocked, Sam asked, “Wait let me get this straight; are you telling me we moved to the murder capitol of the world? Are you serious Grandpa?”
Now with all three grandchildren in front of him, Grandpa replied, “Well now let me put it this way, if all the corpses buried around here were to stand up all at once… We’d have one hell of a population problem.”
Lucy, who had stood in the living room once Michael asked the Santa Carla question, sarcastically said, “Great dad,” before she walked up stairs to put away more belongings.
Grandpa continued his ‘rules’ by saying, “Now, on Wednesdays when the mailman brings the tv guide sometimes the address label is curled up a little just a little like that,” pointing to the right lower corner of the floppy book, “Now you’ll be tempted to tear it off but don’t. You’ll only wind up ripping the cover and I don’t like that.”
Getting to his weird workshop room, Grandpa turned around and said, “And stay out of here.”
Before Grandpa could close the sliding double doors, Sam asked, “Wait- What, you have a tv?”
“No, I just like to read the TV guide. You read the tv guide you don’t need a tv,” Grandpa said before finally slamming the doors shut.
“Jeez,” (Y/N) said finally relieved to be out of that situation. She walked back upstairs getting ready to unpack.
(Y/N) chose the room at the end of the hallway. She thought it’d give her the most distance and solitude from her mom and brothers. She adored her family but she still needs her personal space like anyone else. She dug around in the cardboard boxes unpacking things like; box, posters, nic-nacs, and family photos. She got down to one particular photo. It was a baby photo of her, her father, and Lucy. It was before Michael was born, though that wasn’t long since he was only a year younger.
The year was 1968, (Y/N) was only a few months old. The photo was from their old house in Phoenix, around Christmas time. Grandma and Grandpa were visiting from Santa Carla. Grandma Emerson wanted to commemorate the moment of (Y/N)’s first Christmas so she picked up her camera and took a picture. The photo was in black and white since the “colored film was too dang expensive,” according to Grandma. The picture itself was of (Y/N) sitting on a fluffy faux fur blanket and her parents lying on either side with the dark green pine tree decorated in red & silver ornaments behind them. The couple was smiling down at their happy baby girl. (Y/N) vaguely remembers the glowing Christmas lights. 
“Hey sweetie, how’s un-packing going? Need any help?” Lucy stood by the doorway as she asked.
“Oh..uh no I got it but thanks mom…” (Y/N) said, wiping the tears from her eyes.
A concerned look appeared on her mom’s face as she rushed to sit on the bed and hug her daughter.
Rocking her daughter back and forth as she stroked her head she asked, “Awe sweetie what’s wrong?”
“I just miss him, why couldn’t we stay? Why did we have to leave? Why did you have to divorce? I just- I miss dad,” (Y/N) couldn’t hold back the endless stream of tears as she hugged her mom.
“I know sweetie, I know. Sometimes this is just where life takes us… we just have to look to the future since we can’t change the past,” Lucy said, trying to stop herself from crying at this point.
“I know it’s just-“ before (Y/N) finished her brothers entered the room.
“Hey we were thinking…of heading to the…boardwalk…” Sam’s words got smaller as he looked at his mom and sister.
Peeking his head over Sam, Michael asked, “What’s going on?”
“Nothing, nothing,” (Y/N) said as she wiped away her tears and quickly stood up.
(Y/N) has never let her brothers see her cry, she was their tough sister. She certainly won’t let it happen now.
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The Moon and The Ocean
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The princess was a strange one, not Princess Shuri, but the one where King T’Chaka and Queen Ramonda found her as a baby near the shoreline with no mother or father. Ramonda had given birth 6 months ago to their daughter Shuri and T’Chaka was hesitant to add another child to the mixture, but Ramonda convinced him and it was almost as if Bast blessed them because (Y/N) was the final piece to the puzzle. 
“(Y/N).....(Y/N)! Open your ears, sister! What do you have going on in that mind of yours?” She jumped as Shuri snapped her fingers before sped around the lab. She glanced at the scientist as she scrambled through her files. “Shuri, what are you looking for?” Shuri was paying her no attention as she let out a whoop of success before heading downstairs, the taller woman falling suit. (Y/N)’s long skirt flowed like waves in the ocean, she dressed like her mother, very formal and always in long dresses or skirts,but she typically wore neutral colors like green, brown, tan, but black and white was her bread and butter.
(Y/N) attempted to make conversation, but only to be met with silence and the occasional huh, so she decided to go to the heart of the capital. Slipping past the Dora Milaje as her giggles carried throughout the wind. “Princess (Y/N), what do you think you’re doing here?”
“M’Baku, if you could be any louder?” The leader of the Jabari chuckled as he squatted down, getting a good look at the young woman. “But if you wanted to know, I’m wandering around, everyone has important things to handle.” M’Baku nodded as he watched over the citizens of Wakanda, sending Jabari tribesmen further out. “What about your other tasks? The children have been missing your presence in the classes along with Nakia.” 
She awkwardly looked away, rubbing her arms. She missed interacting with the children, but since Nakia left Wakanda, it never felt right. “Maybe I’ll talk to Queen mother about starting the program again, it would be nice. I…Nakia was my buffer, you know how I don’t really fit in and she put the time and effort into getting to know me for me and not just as a princess that has no claim to the throne.” 
M’Baku leaned against his staff as he rolled his eyes. “Your outcome could be different,Hanuman sees a different path for you, one that is brighter than anyone among the Wakandan royal family.” (Y/N) gave a pointed look with her hands on her hips. “I’m not marrying you, M’Baku.” He’s been chasing her ever since they met as children, hoping down from the beam, he still towered over her. “I wasn’t even proposing. but you have an aura that’s a fire, but it’s not violent, it's caring and nurturing. Unlike your sister or-”
She placed her hand on his chest, effectively shutting him up as she gave him that look, tired of Hanuman speeches along with how different she was, it was irritating enough to be reminded that she wasn’t truly wakandan. “M’Baku, I appreciate your….advice, but I’m a normal woman, that’s all. Now, I must go, enjoy the rest of your day.” Picking up her skirts, she started her trek back to the palace, ignoring the eyes that stared daggers into her back as she left.
Nightfall soon fell, the citizens retiring for the night, all except one, (Y/N) had bouts of insomnia and nothing worked for her. Slipping on some slippers, she made her way to the river. She spent the majority of her nights there, enjoying the sounds of nature, but tonight she grabbed her art supplies as she wanted to create another piece. It’s months that she felt inspired enough to even look at her blank canvas, dusk collecting her tools and she almost felt like she lost her passion. 
After T’Challa’s passing, she felt the world stop, she couldn’t breathe; it was as if someone stole the air from her lungs and held it hostage. She remembered that day vividly, she flinched at Shuri’s screams,watching her younger sister reach for their brother’s cold body. Queen Ramonda was already ushered out, sobbing as Okoye held her as she tried fighting her own tears. “(Y/N)?” M’Baku questioned as wrapped his arms around her. He gently rubbed her back as she sobbed into his chest, watching as they placed the white sheet over T’Challa’s body.
She sighed as she came to, laying her blanket out as she made herself comfortable. The moonlight was a comforting light, it felt like a mother’s love; warm and unconditional love. Something that she craved, being an outsider was hard; no one really talked to her, most didn’t trust her even though she’s lived here her entire life, but no one has actually tried it with her because she was technically a member of the royal family. 
She prepped her canvas, cursing as her locs fell across her face, knowing she was forgetting something. Unbeknownst to her, a figure was watching her, barely hovering over the water line. His dark eyes roamed her curvaceous figure, childbearing hips and with her breasts almost spilling from the top of mauve silk nightdress. He slowly moved closer to her, not wanting to startle her as he could hear sing softly as she painted away, unaware of his presence.
As he moved closer, he bit his lip at her full lips, soft round face, that he could only imagine how they felt against his. He could only imagine how heavenly she felt, plush as the finest furs and he couldn’t fathom her not being taken yet. He’s watched for years, children naturally flock to her; treating them with the utmost respect and care. “Ndingazilibala njani iibrashi zam?” She muttered as she rummaged through her bag. A forgetful little thing, it’s either primary colors or tonight, it’s brushes. 
(Y/N) hummed a childhood nursery rhyme as she painted, the subject was unknown, she knew it was a man, he seemed to be a divine entity, the regal look he wore. She paused as she heard footsteps, jumping back. “Relajar, chan.” Her eyes shot daggers at him as she tried putting distance between them. “What are you even saying?! You came out of nowhere and…” She paused at the site of wings on his ankles, disturbed and confused by this mysterious man. “Who are you anyways and how did you get in here?” She knew he wasn’t wakandan, his native language, his attire was foriegn to her. He chuckled as he stepped closer to her, the scent of the ocean rolled off of him in waves.
“My allies call me K’uk’ulkan, but my enemies call me Namor, but Princess (Y/N), you can call me, In ajawo’. (My king) I’ve been watching you for some time now and your beauty and grace is unmatched, truly ethereal.” His rough hand barely grazed her cheek as he looked down at her, her eyes filled with wonder before she suddenly pulled away. “I don’t care, but why are you here? How did you sneak past the barrier?” He chuckled as he looked around, enjoying the cool weather. Everything was much more…cleaner, the water wasn’t polluted, the sea thrived in this area. “You're very lucky, ko’oj, I’ve seen how Wakanda treats you, a very beautiful and intelligent woman, who happens to be an outsider adopted by the Queen. In Talokan, my people would welcome you, some of my people have seen your struggles to be accepted and we sympathize with that.”
Namor stepped away as footsteps got louder, he knew he couldn’t risk being caught this early on. “Until next time, ko’oj.” “Princess (Y/N)!” She jumped when Okoye and Ayo stepped through the bush, spears drawn as they surrounded her. “Okoye, what’s the meaning of this? I was just painting-” The young woman fell silent at Okoye’s glare, shyly looking away. “What did I tell you? You cannot be out here this late at night, your mother-” “Ngoba? Andikho kuluhlu lobukhosi, ukhuseleko lwam alukho kuqala kuye.” (Why? I am not next in line for the throne, my safety is not her priority.) (Y/N) said as she hurriedly grabbed her slippies, trying not to cry from frustration. “Why? It doesn’t matter if you’re not in line for the throne, your mother still wants to see you safe. We can’t do that if you’re going to sneak out.” Ayo spoke, planting her spear into the ground. 
Wordlessly (Y/N) headed back towards the palace, ignoring Okoye’s and Ayo’s questioning. Queen Ramonda sighed in relief as her daughter walked through the living area. “She wasn’t hurt or anything?” “No, my queen, she’s fine, but just irritated.” Ramonda rolled her eyes as she stood from the sofa. “Of course she is, when she’s not?” Okoye cleared her throat, shuffling on her feet awkwardly. “My Queen, may I suggest, she was sent to live with Nakia? Maybe that would be a better environment for her?” 
“I just lost my son and my other daughter has pushed me away, why would I send one away especially now?” Okoye stayed silent, knowing if she spoke one more word, she would incur her wrath. Ramonda truly cared for (Y/N), but she couldn’t treat her like she did Shuri. No matter what, the council would never recognize her as a member of the royal family. Ramonda knew it strained their bond as (Y/N) grew older, but it wasn’t just with her only, it affected everyone else’s. Dinners would be lively and full of smiles, until it just became Ramonda.T’Challa’s illness consumed him and Shuri had taken the responsibility to cure him. 
Namor quietly painted, deep within his thoughts, frustrated that the conversation was cut short. Those pesky warriors always seem to be tracking her, which he understands, but she was adopted, she has no claim–nothing, so why are they so adamant on keeping her safe? “K’uk’ulkan, Ba'axten j-binech chúunk'iin o'niak. Yaan k beel cautelosos yéetel leti'ob.”(Why did you leave late last night? We need to be cautious about them.) Namor placed his brush down,sighing as he stood to his full height. “Namora, Ba'axten cuestionar in. A wojel ba'ax ma' pondría ti' talamilo'ob k máak u propósito ti', waal mía.” (Why question me? You know I wouldn’t purposefully endanger our people, my child.) 
“In wojel ba'ax ma' u harías, ba'ale' Táantik u K'astal u ajawo' yéetel u protector.Táan ti' jump'éel kúuchil talamil yéetel ma' in wa'alike' u bixake' prudente perseguir ti' jump'éel le princesas ti' le k'iin.” (I know you wouldn't, but they just lost their king and their protector. They're in a vulnerable place and I don't think it's wise to pursue one of the princesses during this time.) Namora knew he was infatuated with the princess, but she needed him to be focused on Talokan and their needs. She quietly left as Namor became unresponsive, not trying to upset him.
Namor sighed as he stared at the mural, understanding where Namora was coming from. Wakanda had opened herself to other nation’s and their greed. Vibranium was a precious resource to both countries and he knew that countries like France and The United States wouldn’t understand, they only see the potential of how dangerous it could be. Namor also knew that they wanted to be the ones who held the power over their heads. He needed to plan this strategically if he wanted this partnership to come to fruition.
(Y/N) allowed a couple of days to pass before heading towards the river bank, leaving her kimoyo beads if Shuri were to track her. She creeped through the brushes, her head on swivel as she constantly checked around. “For a princess, your guards are incompetent, especially the taller one. Are those your best warriors?” She jumped, whipping around to see Namor’s smiling face. “Oh Bast,”She held her chest as he chuckled,”You’re very fast for someone’s structure.” “I cannot help it, my wings assist me in much of that, but I’m glad that I’m able to see you again.” She couldn’t help notice how close he was to her, his body heat radiated off of him even though he was drenched. 
“Your clothing….you’re older than what you appear, a couple of thousand years, perhaps?” Namor let out a hearty chuckle, at her guess and face; her round cheeks puffed out at the audacity of him to laugh in her face. “I’m closer to 500, where did you think that?” He teased, leaning closer to her as she stuttered, looking away as she tried to defend herself. “I…I’ve dealt with aliens and talking raccoons, who appeared older than me, but were younger, but 500? What exactly are you?” He appeared humanlike, minus the pointed ears and the wings on his ankles, along with enhanced abilities.
“I’m a mutant, close to 500 years ago, my mother and her people ingested a plant infused with vibranium, hoping it would cure the disease that Spanish conquistadores, but instead it turned their skin blue and gave them the ability to breathe underwater. At first, my mother refused because she didn’t know how it would affect me, but the priest convinced her otherwise. She prayed for a protector, having their homeland taken by the Spanish and having to start over, that’s when she was blessed. I was born, but I wasn’t like the typically Talokanil, I could absorb the oxygen from the air as well the sea, that’s why named me K’uk’lkan.” 
Her eyes widened at the mention of vibranium, giving him a skeptical look. “Vibranium? It only occurs in Wakanda, how would that be even possible?” “Vibranium is rich within the Atlantic Ocean, my people use it for everything from tools to our homes, why do you think Wakanda is the only place who has it? My necklace is made of vibranium along with my belt.``True to his word, it glowed a deep royal purple, the tell-tale sign of its true nature. Namor tilted his head, curious as he twisted a loc on his finger; (Y/N) was too deep into her thoughts to care. “That's what I've been told since I was child, that’s all I’ve known, the royal family don’t certain things to be taught or allowed in the city, it may be different for other tribes, but my mother made sure that our minds weren’t tainted by the outside world.” 
Her words said one thing, but eyes said another, denial and confusion, but mostly denial. “One day, I’ll bring you to Talokan and show you the city, see how vibranium is used by my people, it’s more antediluvian, we keep everything simple because once you become more advanced, I believe you begin to lose your edge. I would rather miss the bigger picture once, than continuously miss the smaller one.” (Y/N) gave him a look, crossing her arms over her chest. “But as king or a god, whatever you are, at one point, you’re going have to look forward. As royalty, our respective citizens expect us to have their best interests at heart and if we need to improve their lives by expanding and improving, that’s what we have to do.”
As the days bled into months as the season changed, (Y/N) snuck away more often just to steal a glimpse of Namor and vice versa, if she could spend hours listening to his voice, she could. The more she spoke with him, the more her heart wanted him. It was something about Namor and how he was able to work through her walls, shattering them one by one until she couldn’t hide anything from him. The fleeting touches and the lingering hand kisses only awakened a hunger in her that he could only sate. The council could tell she was much happier, which to some was suspicious. She wasn’t seen with anyone throughout the tribes, which irritated Ramonda, she was just happy that her daughter’s mood improved, well at least one of them. She was still trying to help Shuri; grief affected everyone differently, but she worried about her mental health. 
(Y/N) stepped through the entrance, scientists bowing their heads as she stepped through. “Shuri, would you like to come with me on a walk? It would be good for you to get some fresh air.” Shuri ignored her as she continued to run calculations as she barked orders at Griot. “I can’t, too much to do and not enough time.” “I understand that, but you cannot be your best if you’re not nourishing your body and that also goes for your mental health as well.” Shuri slammed down her tools as she glared at her younger sister.
“You’re just like my mother, always nagging.” (Y/N)’s eyes narrowed as she followed Shuri, barely holding her tongue. “What do you mean by that? Shuri, what’s happening to you? This isn’t you.” “Because I’m irritated that you’re walking around here, smiling and happy! Did T’Challa mean nothing to you!?” The scientist looked at her younger sister with tears in her eyes, Shuri was jealous, she struggled with the guilt, she couldn’t save her brother in time. She was one of the brightest minds in the world, she could solve any problem, but that She was also irritated by everyone who decided to move on, acting like the world didn’t stop.
“Shuri, he meant everything to me, he’s my brother no less like you are to him, but don’t lash out at me! Don’t you think I’m not suffering? That I don’t cry myself to sleep every night?” A heavy cloud settled between them, suffocating as they stared at each other. Technicians slowly sneaking out, knowing that they have no part in this conversation. “I know he’s with the ancestors, but he’s not gone. Death isn’t the end-” She barely dodged the tool coming at her, whipping around in disbelief. “What has gotten in your head?! Why are you acting like this!” 
Shuri kept raging on, destroying her lab as (Y/N) tried calming her down, stepping over broken glass. “Shuri, calm down before you hurt yourself!” Her ears felt itchy as the room became unbearably hot, the cool tile shifted into sand as the room melted into the Saraha desert. The sudden heat was suffocating as if the burning sand filled her lungs as she sank to her knees.“My child, my sweet child, the world hasn’t been kind to you.” (Y/N) couldn’t make out the language; she couldn’t make out anything as the light was blinding as the mysterious woman led her like mother to her calf.
Shuri had screamed for a doctor as she witnessed her sister collapse, barely breathing as she wheeled away. The news spread fast within Wakanda and the Jabari, M’Baku rushed towards the palace as the citizens crowded the walls. “What could’ve happened? A simple argument turning into this? Shuri, what actually happened?” Ramonda pressed as Shuri nervously bit her lip as she held herself, trying not to break down. “It was! It just got out of hand and threw some tools at her and then she asked me what was wrong, that's when she collapsed! I didn’t mean to cause her any stress-”
(Y/N) blinked away the sand as stepped into a temple, gaping at the symbols adorned across the walls. “Hieroglyphics…All of this is, but why me, I’m normal, I have no ties to any higher being-” “As my daughter you do, I dreamt of a child, a daughter after being trapped away for millennia. I watched my sons fade away into nothing, time is precious, but it can also be a curse. I held on as much as I could before I was forced to bestow my powers onto you, but I cannot hold on any longer.” She placed a palm on her forehead, whispering a prayer as her eyes glowed. “I don’t understand-” “You won’t understand until you have to, take my gifts and do good with them.” 
Her eyes flashed open as she felt around her body, connected to wires and an EKG machine. (Y/N) slowly climbed off of  the table as she walked towards the entrance. “Princess (Y/N), I advise you to stay and I’ll notify Queen Ramonda that you’re awake.” “No, it's fine Griot, just keep it a secret.” She muttered as she headed outside, sighing deeply as she laid back against the cool metal, her eyes fluttered shut as she slowly regained control of her limbs. 
Moon was high up, illuminating her path as she headed towards the river, humming softly as she played with the lotus necklace. The world seemed different, she could feel the energy from..everything. It wasn’t overwhelming, as if it was a calm stream in the middle of summer night. (Y/N) sighed in relief as she stepped into the water, her salvation–her oasis in the middle of the desert. Namor revealed him as he realized that it was his querido, welcoming in his arms, which she gladly took, giggling as he left small kisses across her throat. “I missed you, you collapsing would’ve never happened if you moved to Talokan with me.” Another kiss. “Never stress, only endless pleasure.” Her breath hitched as his rough hands slid underneath her gown, grazing the edge of her panties. “Let me give you that, In reina.” 
“Please, Na- K’uk’ulkan, please-” “I know, just trust me, okay?” He gently placed a mask, rubbing her hip as she inhaled the gas feeling her breathing slow. “You’re going to love my home and hopefully, you can call it yours one day.” He whispered, caressing her cheek as walked further into the ocean, whispering promises of pleasure. 
“WHAT DO YOU MEAN SHE”S GONE?! SHE WAS IN A COMA AND SHE JUST WOKE UP AND LEFT?!” The council, Dora Milaje, Shuri flinched as Queen Ramonda shouted, demanding answers as she stared at Border Tribe, the so-called protectors. “We didn’t see or hear anything out of the ordinary, she must’ve snuck out while we’re doing shift changes.” One of the members bowed his head in shame. Shuri was in the corner, trying to figure out where she went. “What about her kimoyo beads?” “She deactivated the video capture and the GPS, wiped it clean before she tossed it in the river.” Ramonda screamed, utterly gut-wrenching as she sank to knees. Losing two children so soon was something she didn’t want to happen, ordering anybody to look for her, because she was not resting until she was home safe and sound.
(Y/N)’s hands ruffled through the linen sheets as she came to, the bed was fit for a king, massive and absolutely comfortable. “Good morning, my beautiful beautiful (Y/N).” Namor stepped in,carrying a plate of food. “I wish I could show you everything, but you would be crushed by the pressure, the deeper we go.” He took a seat at the edge of the bed, smiling softly. Namor dreamt of this day many nights, the sight of his love in his realm, it awakened something deep within him. 
“I appreciate this, K’uk’ulkan, I honestly do, but I feel there’s more to this.” She pushed her empty plate away, watching him carefully. “That's why I'm drawn to you, come with me and I’ll answer any questions you have.” Gently taking her hand, Namor guided her to his mural, knowing it would be worth it to see the wonder in her eyes. “These paintings tell my story, over five hundred years worth of history, some of them also contain my wishes for the future as well.” 
Her fingers touched a depiction of a wedding, surrounded by loyal subjects and generals alike. Her gaze lingered on the bride, she wore traditional clothing, the finest fit for a queen,the red and the orange accentuating the green,blue and gold shades. “I dreamed of you centuries ago, I felt a connection when we first met, you were scared, but I could see the curiosity in your eyes. I don’t want to force you into-” (Y/N) placed her lips on his, silencing effectively. His body seized as she wrapped her arms around his neck, her lips were softer than he imagined. His hands gravitated towards her waist as he deepened the kiss, her hands cupping his face as she sought his lips out. “K’uk’lkan…” He pulled away, still gripping her hips as he looked into her eyes. “I want this, I want you and everything that comes with it, we can deal with the consequences later.” His smile became wider, kissing her temple. “I wanted to give you this,”He fastened the bracelet around her wrist,”It was my mother’s, it was made of the same plant that gave life to my people.” 
(Y/N) whipped around as the curtain fluttered open, her eyes widened as the blue woman stepped in, holding a bowl. “K’uk’lkan, Táan ts'o'oksik.(it’s ready)” She bowed her head, Namor gave his gratitude as he turned towards (Y/N). “Do you, Princess (Y/N) of Wakanda, accept this gift and my proposal to rule Talokan with me?” She looked between his hopeful eyes and the bowl, knowing she chose him, it would be permanent, there would be no going back. “I do.” His heart raced as she drank from the bowl. “Níib óolal, Namora.” He expressed his gratitude as he held (Y/N), slowly stepping into water as he waited for her rebirth.
“So we’re going to stand here and cry? Someone had to seen something, I’m not going to stand here and twiddle my thumbs, waiting for something to happen.” Okoye snapped as she slammed her spear into the ground. The elders began to bicker among themselves as Ramonda stayed silent. “Queen Ramonda, we’ve had an eyewitness, claiming that she was seen with an unknown man that had wings on ankles and escaped by diving underwater.” 
“You’re saying a fish man took (Y/N) and she didn't even struggle? What are you even saying?” The villager bowed to his knees, trembling in fear. “I’ve seen them multiple times, they seemed like we’re lovers. They would talk for hours until one of the guards came or one of them had to leave, but I did hear them plan for a night where he would sneak into the palace.” That’s when Ramonda glanced over at Shuri as she quickly typed on beads, pulling up surveillance footage. 
It showed (Y/N) guiding a man around the Dora Milaje, stopping periodically as they were afraid of being caught, she smiled as she ushered him into her room, giggling as he kissed her hands. “You’re going to get us in trouble, ko’oj.” M’Baku was flabbergasted as he watched the two lovers interact, it was always known that he had fondness for the adopted princess, his frown only deepened as they watched more footage, signaling that this has been going on for awhile. “This is highly upsetting, not only this man can sneak into Wakanda undetected, but Princess (Y/N) has been assisting him in doing so. This is treason, am I wrong?” That question immediately changed the mood within the chambers, as a mother, Ramonda wanted to see (Y/N)’s side, but she knew as queen that she needed to punish her for even entertaining this. 
“You’re not wrong, but I believe this man is manipulating her, (Y/N) is highly devoted to this country and she would never betray us like this.” Shuri spoke up in fear, looking around the council. “Shuri, Ayo is correct, but Wakanda comes first. By my decree, if Princess (Y/N) is found, she’s to be taken alive and she struggles,then you have permission to kill.”
Namor submerged their bodies as she suddenly awoke, gasping for air as she tried to find the nearest body of water. Breathing underwater as if it was second nature, she looked around before she took off, much to Namor’s delight. “Let me guide you, ko’oj.” She smiled as he interlaced their hands as he took them deeper. The ocean was truly terrifying, but there was a beauty to her as she discovered as her eyes began to adjust. Marine life unbothered by their presence as they swam past. “Is this?-” “Yes, this is Talokan, our home.” He smiled as her mouth fell open as her eyes landed on the underwater country, she couldn’t fathom a country this size hidden beneath the waves. The Talokanil slowly averted their attention to the pair as they made their way through the city, Namor smiling as she swam ahead, her curiosity contagious as she began to zip around.
Namor turned as he felt a tape on his shoulder, smiling as he faced Attuma, one of his trusted advisers.“K’uk’lkan, bienvenido tin wotoch, kin wilik ta taasaj le princesa wéetel.Ma' je'el in criticar u k'alt'aan, ba'ale' con cuidado le ba'ala' u yaantal consecuencias ti' le futuro.” (welcome home, I see you brought the princess with you. I can't be critical of your decision, but carefully, this may have consequences in the future.) Which made Namor roll his eyes, Attuma wanted the same as him; keep Talokan a secret from the surface dwellers, but Attuma never allowed himself to rest and relax. “Centrar k ti' u ma'alob te'ela', Talokan finalmente ti' jump'éel reina, ba'ax u k'áat u ya'al ti' le paalalo'obo' táan ti' le horizonte.Bey disfrutemos ti' in matrimonio tumen jump'éel áak'ab.” (Let's focus on the good here, Talokan finally has a queen, which means children are on the horizon. Let's at least enjoy my marriage for one night.) Attuma only nodded his head as he swam away to begin the marriage celebration. 
“In reina(My queen), let’s get you prepared for the ceremony for tonight, you still need to be fitted for your dress.” Leading her towards his favorite seamstress, (Y/N) looked through the dresses as Namor and the older lady conversed in their language. She rubbed her empty wrist, wishing she had her kimoyo beads with her. The seamstress glanced between the amount of fabric and her measurements, before nodding at Namor. It would be close, but she could make it work. “You’re going to look absolutely beautiful tonight.” She squirmed at his kisses, trying to swim away only to be caught. 
Namor sighed as he noticed the elders swimming towards them. “This is where we spend some time away from each other in preparation, it’s mostly meant for you, but the entire kingdom is getting ready for the wedding, just relax and enjoy being pampered. I’m sure one of the elders either knows wakandan or english, but that’s going to be my first priority, teach you the language.”  He placed a kiss on her cheek before he left.
Namor sighed as he entered the war room, Attuma and Namora with other warriors talking amongst themselves. “Yaan wáaj asuntos importantes u discutir?” (Is there important matters to discuss?) He questioned as he took his seat, Attuma and Namora shared a look before she spoke. “Taak ka'ach in felicitar a tuméen a matrimonio, ba'ale' in tuukultik le futuro.Podríamos yantalto'on formado jump'éel alianza yéetel Wakanda, ba'ale' ti' leti'ob binech in paach.Jach páajtal hayas arruinado jump'éel oportunidad.” (I wanted to congratulate you on your marriage, but I’m worried for the future. We could’ve formed an alliance with Wakanda, but you went around their backs. You may have ruined an opportunity.) “Ba'ax le ba'ala' tu ka'atéen. Ma' habrían aprobado le ba'ala', mantienen ti' le chicas encerradas yéetel puño hierro, ku ts'o'okole' ba'ax podríamos ofrecer. Xan k vibranium, páajtal manejar u bey mismos ti' le amenazas tuméen ts'o'ok u demostrado. Leti' táan destinada tin wiknal yéetel teene' ma' ka'ach u p'atik u jump'éel mortal ku interpusiera ichil leti' yéetel Teene'.” (This again? They wouldn't have approved of this, they keep the girls locked away with an iron fist, plus what could we offer? We both have vibranium, they can handle themselves from threats because they've proven that. She was destined for me and I wasn't going to let a mortal get between me and her.)
Namora narrowed her eyes, she was devoted to her country and her god, but she also knew he was starting to lose focus. “Kexi' a wilik ba'alo'ob tak k perspectiva, ba'ale' k kuxtal yéetel mukul tsikbal u permanecer ti' le anonimato kajnáalilo'ob le superficie Mantats' k'a'abéet u le yáax. Kexi' ka páajtal tokik k wa k'uchul le súutuko', K’uk’klan.” (I hope you'll be able to see things from our perspective, but our existence and the secrecy to remain anonymous from the surface dwellers should always come first. I hope you can defend us if the time comes.)
“Mantats' ts'o'ok in puesto u Talokan táanil utia'al tuláakal, teech ts'o'ok in guiado ichil siglos yéetel le revelador bix a cuestionando in Buka'aj u ba'al utia'al u ch'a' decisiones. Wa ba'al ts'o'oks u yúuchul ti' le futuro cercano, asumiré tuláakal le responsabilidad, ba'ale' tuméen bejla'e' permitir in beel ts'u'ut tuméen juntéene'.” (I've always put Talokan first for everything, I've guided you for centuries and it's telling how you're questioning my ability to make decisions. If something ends up do happening in the near future, I'll take full responsibility, but for now allow me to be selfish for once.) Attuma’s eye twitched from irritation, but he kept his mouth shut as he nodded his head. Namora wanted push this matter further, but with a swift kick in shin from the taller man made her fall quiet. 
(Y/N) sat in silence as she attended to, her nerves growing as they continued on, her locs were tied into neat bun as they placed Dahlias in her hair, a few framed her round face. “Jats'uts, tu yéeyaj ma'alob.” (Pretty, he chose well).” One of the older ladies said as she was fitted into her dress, she practically glowed underneath the bioluminescent algae, the coral orange faded into a burgundy as she twirled, smiling as they grew excited. They quickly fell silent as the same man from earlier entered the room. He only stared into her eyes as he stretched out his hand for her, guess it was time. 
The ceremonial drums began to play once they caught a glimpse of her, the Talokanil began to chant, very reminiscent of weddings in Wakanda.Dancers guided them as they chanted along, carefully watching the princess. “Phola.” (relax) Attuma could feel her nervousness, while he may not agree with the wedding, but he knew she had to be special if he chose her. Namor was adorned with regal attire with his headdress shining in the lights as he waited for her at the end. 
“Táan k reunidos utia'al u celebrar u unión u K’uk’lkan yéetel u xba'al, k ts'o'ok guiado fielmente ti' siglos, wilik k máak prosperar yéetel lolo'ob, ba'ale' Bejla'e' u taak u meentik k'ek'eno'. Cha' u le unión k traiga ya'ab bendiciones ti' venideros ja'ab. (We are gathered to celebrate the union of K’uk’lkan and his bride, he's faithfully guided us for centuries, watching our people thrive and flourish, but now it's his turn to do the same. Allow this union to bring us many blessings in the years to come.) The priest chanted as the Talokanil hollered as Namor fondly looked to her eyes, placing a soft kiss on her knuckles. 
“Bejla'e', le presentará u x-ba'al jump'éel siibal meetmaj k'ab, jump'éel signo u lealtad yéetel dedicación ti' leti'. “(Now, the K’uk’lkan will present his bride a handcrafted gift, a sign of his loyalty and dedication to her.) Namor revealed a necklace similar to his, adorned with jade, rubies and pearls, along with vibranium as well with a matching ring, that resonates with vibranium within the necklace and (Y/N) graciously accepted his gift, beaming with pride as he fastened the necklace on. Namora kept a neutral face, but internally she wanted to object to this wedding. She felt her cousin made a decision that will have grave consequences for all involved. 
“Wa máak yaan mix objeción, ba'ax ken tijik u k'aab u matrimonio ka' jo'op' celebramos u unión..”(if no one has any objections, may they consummate their marriage as we celebrate their union.) The cheers of the Talokanil became deafening as Namor eagerly kissed (Y/N), one of his hands gripped the back of her as the other planted firmly on her hips. A whine was trapped in her throat as his tongue flickered across her bottom lip, her cheeks feeling warm at his chuckle, enjoying her shyness. 
Namor wasn’t wasting any more time as he took (Y/N) into his arms and headed towards his cave, whispering filthy promises into her ear, causing her to bury her face in his neck. With water pouches secured tight onto her, Namor guided her towards his bedroom, it was different. “This is the bed that we’re going to be sharing as equals.” He stated as he pulled her closer to him, passionately kissing her as his hands roam underneath her dress, soaking in her presence.
With quick hands, (Y/N) laid bare underneath, attempting to shield herself from his view, Namor sucked his teeth, pinning her arms down as he made his way in between her legs. “Don’t hide from me.” He left kisses across throat, groping her breasts, roughly twisting and pulling at her nipple as she withered underneath him. “I’ve been waiting for this night for months now, let me hear you, princess.” Dark marks bloomed against her rich umber brown skin as he trailed down her body, whining as she blindly grasped at the sheets. “P–Please, it-its too-” 
Namor suddenly rubbed her clit, relishing in her cries as he stimulated her body. “You’re a sensitive little thing, are you?” He teased, snickering as she hid her face. “It’s because I’m a virgin..” He paused for a moment before he manhandled her onto her hands and knees, pulling her pussy into his face as he assaulted her clit. (Y/N) cried out as she buried her face in the pillows, unable to even speak as the pleasure overwhelmed her, pushing her hips back as she sought something. 
“Just like that princess..” He mumbled, slowly pushing his thick finger into her, groaning as she clenched. He rubbed her hips with his free hand,”Relax, deep breathes..” He ignored his aching cock, knowing that he needed to be gentle, but the other part of his brain wanted to breed her until she was unconscious. After a moment, (Y/N) pushed her hips back, he gently flexed his finger, smiling as he extracted whines and moans from her. “Let your god know how good he’s making you feel.” She cried out as he brushed against something, it made her brain melt as she was unable to form words.“You’re going to be a good cockslut, aren’t you?” 
“YES! I’ll be a good cockslut for you!” Namor beamed with pride at the voice crack, gleeful that she was this thoroughly fucked out. He quickly slid his middle finger in, rapidly thrusting in, basking in her moans as she grasped onto the headboard. Her essence coated his goatee as he chased her high, sucking harshly on her clit as she withered on his fingers, crying as she tried to flee from his brutal pace. “No, you’re going to cum on my fingers and then I’m going to fuck you, now I’m not going to tell you again.” 
(Y/N) sobbed as she felt the knot snapping in her stomach, coming on his fingers as stars filled her vision, slumping against the bed. Namor stepped away, licking his lips as he took off his vibranium belt and tossing his shorts to the side. Her eyes snapped open as she felt bed dipped, turning onto her back, her heart started to race as he climbed in between her legs. “Is that supposed to fit inside of me?” He grinned as he jerked his cock, pushing against her entrance. “Breathe and relax for me, princess.” 
Namor’s hunger only grew as he pushed in, she wrapped around him like vice, sucking him and refusing to let go. Her jaw dropped as he pushed in, stretching her in ways that she thought it wasn’t possible. He allowed her to adjust to his sheer size, leaving kisses across her jaw as he held onto her hips before pushing the rest of his cock, panting as he thrusted into her, enjoying her nails rack against his back. The room reeked of sex, creating a daze as the pleasure clouded her senses. 
“Ono, you’re not passing out on me, we’re fucking until I’m tired.” She sobbed as his pace quickened, blindly grasping for his shoulders. Namor groaned as he continued his onslaught, knowing she’s going to have bruises on her hips in the morning. “Fuck, you’re so tight, so wet for your god, huh?” He knew he was going to remember this sight of her completely fucked out with flowers surrounding her. She sobbed as she weaky grasped at his wrist as he rubbed her clit, much to his disappointment. “Take your hand off, this is my pussy, I’m going to fuck it the way I want to.”Namor cursed as he felt his hips falter as she started to squeeze his cock, groaning as he buried his face in her neck, trying to stave off his orgasm. “Cum for me, In Reina, cum for a ajawo'.” He growled in her ear, furiously rubbing her clit. Her nails dug into biceps as she came, her screams echoing in the cave, flopping onto the bed. Namor cursed as he came, painting her walls white as it leaked onto the sheets, he chuckled tiredly before he flipped them over. (Y/N)’s eyes snapped open as Namor gyrated their hips together, he cackled at the look on her face. “I told you, I wasn’t stopping.”
10 months later
Queen Ramonda and Shuri sat among the riverbanks, it’s been one year since King T’Challa’s death, while the Queen burned her grieving robes while Shuri fought it. “I understand, it's hard, but T’Challa isn’t truly gone-” Shuri threw her an irritated look, shaking her head. “No, he’s gone, he’s not in the trees, in the wind, whatever you try to come with. I can’t act like everything’s okay when it’s not! (Y/N)’s gone and you don’t give a shit. T’Challa’s dead and you act it’s business as usual. I just can’t do it!” Queen Ramonda quickly rose to her feet. “Don’t you ever raise your voice at me, I’m still your-”
Ramonda grabbed a spear as a male figure stepped out of the water, pushing his hair back as looked around. “Wakanda is still beautiful, albeit nothing could compare to my home.” He muttered as his eyes fell onto the two women as they glared at him. “Who are you and how did you sneak past the barriers?” Ramonda questioned as she stepped towards him, ready to strike at any moment. “My allies call me K’uk’lkan, but my enemies call me Namor,” He stated as he stared at them ,”Depending on your decision, I can spare you from complete annihilation or along with the surface world, you’ll fall by my hand. Vibranium was found in the Atlantic ocean by the Amercians with a machine that could detect vibranium, but I destroyed it. I need the American scientist dead, because they’re going to go after her and make her build another one. If that were to happen, everyone is at risk, including my people. Your son’s selfish actions have endangered everyone and you owe us, Queen Ramonda. I trust you’ll make the correct choice, if not, be ready to bury your dead.”
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angelsanarchy · 6 months
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Alkaline: Euronymous x Y/N Series CH 16
Tagging: @ophelialaufey@madamemaximoff06@forever-not-gonna-sink@ajmiila02@liquidsmoothdomme@shady-the-simp @auggiethecreator @tempt-ress @blacksoul-27
TW: Mentions of blood and suicide
After Pelle had killed himself and Necrobutcher quit the band, Oystein knew he had to make his next moves very carefully if he wanted to keep it together. Finding Pelle like he did broke his heart. He knew he had pain. He knew that he was down and out but a part of him never truly expected he would go through with it.
He knew the needed to get out of this house. After sensationalizing Pelle's death, the rumor mill about him being a brain eating occultist was running rampant which only served to give Mayhem more publicity. No matter how much he wanted to capitalize on it, being in the house now just felt wrong.
Most of their stuff had been cleared out, he was still packing up his own room but Hellhammer had already gotten his shit out. He said the house felt haunted and even though Oystein gave him shit about it, he often found himself standing at the doorway of Pelle's room, staring at the blood stain on the floor. The path of blood that led to the stained wooden boards that his brains were still embedded in deeply.
He knew that what he was doing was wrong but if he stopped and let himself feel this, he wasn't sure he would ever recover. The sound of tires screeching outside snapped him out of his thoughts and he could see Y/n's car carrying dust from how fast she just came to a halt.
"I don't need this right now-" Euronymous was carrying a box in his arms when Y/n's hand slammed into the side of his cheek sending him stumbling backwards into the car, dropping the box from his hand.
"YOU PIECE OF ABSOLUTE SHIT! HOW COULD YOU!?" She was screaming and crying as he brought his hand to his cheek that was throbbing. He couldn't believe she had just punched him.
"Jørn told me what you did! Skull necklaces? Have you no fucking soul at all?! He was a fucking person Oystein! He had people who loved him and cared about him!" She continued to cry through her anger and disgust.
"Please tell me this isn't real. I need you to tell me that this is all just to keep your image because I can't-" She started to hyperventilate and Oystein panicked.
"Y/n breathe, you're going to pass out!" He reached out and tried to steady her by the arms.
"Tell me they aren't really Pelle. Please tell me that I didn't have feelings for someone who would do something so callous and disgusting." She pleaded with him and Oystein nodded his head.
"They aren't! It's not him, I promise! Please just breathe." Oystein tried to comfort but she pushed him off of her, falling to her knees. He knelt down in front of her and extended his hand only to be slapped away.
"Don't touch me!" Oystein set back on his ass away from her so she could settle down but she just resumed crying silently.
"He was your friend...how could you let this happen." She gritted her teeth. The truth was, Oystein did feel responsible. He knew how bad Pelle was. He knew that he was experiencing an extra low-low and he had left him by himself to go see his parents for a free meal.
"There was nothing I could do Y/n. You know Pelle didn't want to be alive. He was fucked up-"
"Yeah! He needed help! Not encouragement. Not half-assed friends." Y/n wiped her face tearing a picture from her back pocket and tossing it at Oystein. It was the photo that Pelle let her keep all those years ago when they had done the corpse make up for the first time. Oystein felt pain in his chest. Thing's felt so simple then. He missed when he could terrified people with Pelle and actually make Y/n smile at him.
"You have become such an awful excuse of a human being." She looked up at him and he took his eyes off of the photo to meet her disappointed gaze.
"You shouldn't be here. There's nothing here for you." Oystein said keeping his tone calm knowing that there was nothing he could possibly say to provide her any comfort. They were too far gone now.
"You're right. There isn't." She pushed herself off the ground and Oystein rises to his feet in front of her, leaving the picture on the ground.
"I just had to see for myself. I had to know that there was no going back." Y/n had wiped her face again, this time leaving a smear of dirt from the ground on her chin. Oystein wished she hadn't come by. He wished he could have left this house and all the pain with it.
"I hope the world you've created burns to the ground and when it's all over, you realize all the people you burned with it. I hope it's all worth it in the end." She sniffled and turned her back on him, walking back to her car.
"You just don't understand Y/n. Please let me-" He tried but she cut him off.
"Go to hell Oystein." She gritted through her teeth before starting her car and peeling back down the road away from him, not bothering to look back.
Oystein knelt down to pick up the photo and all the things that had spilled out of the box when he was hit. He didn't think he could hurt anymore than he already did but this felt permanent. This felt as permanent as losing Pelle. He could feel pieces of him dying and how alone he was. He didn't need to go to hell because he was already there.
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