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mageofseven · 11 months

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"I Wish You Were the Father..." Part 1

I see this post as a sort of continuation of this post, but it's not necessary to read that one in order to enjoy it.

Basically, MC got knocked up by another human in her realm before being brought to the Devildom for the exchange program.

She was overwhelmed so she didn't tell anyone. She died and was resurrected by Barb like before, but so was her child.

All of the Boys know and have been taking care of her.

In this post, she will bond with one of the three older brothers, say the quote above, and fall in love with them.

The other brothers and the rest of the Boys will come in other parts.

So I hope you enjoy~

•▪︎▪︎◇°●♡●°◇▪︎▪︎•

Lucifer:

Lucifer has been hovering over the woman as much as possible since That Night™️

After what happened, after what she did for his family...well, taking care of her and her child wasn't even the least he should do.

The human has been nothing but depressed and jumpy since her death, something the oldest couldn't blame her for in the slightest.

Lucifer had hoped bringing her some stability would help making her feel more safe and relaxed; the pride demon wasn't the best at comforting others so he simply used what skills he did have for the pregnant woman

And MC appreciated it; Lucifer really did have a way of making her safe and cared for.

At the same time, the more care she received from him and the other guys, the more guilt she felt.

Yes, that Night™️ she and her baby went through a lot, but still; MC was very much the type of person who helped others and wasn't used to the other way around.

One day, Lucifer came back from his meeting with Diavolo with MC's favorite food, a meal he picked up on the way home.

He pulled out her chair and had her sit down at the table before taking a seat next to her.

"How have you been feeling today?" He asked softly.

MC stared down at her food as she wrapped her arms around her belly.

"Fine..." She mumbled.

"You don't sound 'fine'." He gave a small huff. "Please...just talk about it with me."

"You've treated me so well...treated us so well," She gave her belly a light squeeze as she embraced it. "But...I don't feel like I deserve it."

"MC..." The man could only stare for a moment. How could she say that? "You risked the life of yourself and your child just to save my family from our pain and dysfunction."

"And I'd do it again." She spoke softly. "But...all of the care you're giving me...it makes me feel things I shouldn't."

"What do you mean?" Lucifer raised his gloved hand to wipe away the tear that fell down her cheeks.

MC shook her head before staring down at her belly.

"I wish you could love me...but you could never love me like this." MC hugged her belly tighter. "I wish you were the father...I wish my baby had a dad that actually loved and cared about us..."

The pride demon stared at the human, dark eyes wide as he processed her words and watched tears fall down to her hands and belly.

The man reached out his hand to her cheek and gently guided the woman to meet his gaze.

"Then how about I be just that?" He spoke softly. "Being a parent is not defined by genetics after all."

The human stared up at him in shock, frozen mid breath.

"I...Lucifer..."

The man slowly leaned in, giving the woman time to reject if she preferred to, before pressing his lips to hers.

MC leaned into him during the sweet kiss and even laid a hand on the side of his neck before they pulled away

And when they did, the pride demon saw the woman's eyes beam with so much happiness and love through her tears.

"I love you." He told her. "I...did not want to reveal my feelings for you originally because I was afraid of overwhelming you when you were already going through a difficult time; if I knew you felt the same...I would have confessed sooner."

Suddenly, MC's smiled fell.

"Are...I mean...are you sure about this?" She asked. "I--we're human--"

"And you have shown all of us how strong and beautiful humanity can be." He insisted. "Being human is not a flaw of you or this child; it's a strength of you both as people."

To make another attempt at parenthood when he did so poorly with Satan...it was daunting to the pride demon

However, he loved this woman and her child with every ounce of his soul.

He was going to give them his everything and make sure both mother and child want for naught.

He will take care of both of them for however long this life gives him theirs.

Mammon:

Another man who hovered over her, only he wasn't the least bit subtle about it

Nor did he ever truly doubt it, but did always shoot back how the human needs the Great Mammon to take care of her

And she did. All of the greed demon's care and company really did wonders for the mother and baby.

The two were laying in bed, MC curled up into Mammon's chest.

The two weren't a couple, but anyone who saw the two laying together and embracing the other so intimately would assume such.

Honestly...Mammon and MC didn't know what they were anymore; both held strong feelings for the other, but neither were brave enough to speak them aloud.

Mammon was worried about pushing his feelings on the woman who already went to hell and back for his family, metaphorically speaking, and didn't want to risk stressing MC out while she was pregnant and dealing with complicated stuff.

MC didn't want to tell Mammon her feelings for him because she didn't believe this wonderful man could truly love her, not when she is carrying another man's baby.

The demon realized she was crying before she did when he felt a tear land on his chest.

"'Ey what's that about, huh?" His gaze met the human's.

In truth, the man has grown used to her tears. They used to make him freak out and believe he did something wrong

But with the woman's hormones flaring and their general feelings about the situation, he grew to understand that it was usually not his fault and that helped him stay calm for her.

"Nothing..." She mumbled.

"It don't look like nothin'." Mammon tighten their embrace. "You might as well tell me and save us both the time."

"Does it...bother you that I'm pregnant?"

How was he supposed to answer that??

"I...look, it pisses me off that that d-bag knocked you up and left you to deal with the consequences, but I have nothin' against your kid."

"But..." The woman shook her head. "Nevermind..."

"Human...just spit it out, okay?" He said in a low voice. "The Great Mammon won't judge ya; you know I won't."

"I just..." The human sighed. "Mammon, do you still have feelings for me?"

The demon's face went red.

"W-Whatcha talkin' about all a sudden??"

Everyone knew Mammon had a crush on MC, even the human herself

However, the woman was worried those feelings died the minute he discovered her baby.

The woman sniffled before hiding her face in his chest.

Devil, the man was so tense. How was he supposed to handle this???

"I wish you were my baby's dad..." She cried into his chest.

Holy--did she really say that??

It took a minute for the man to process her words

But once he did, Mammon laid a hand on her belly and pressed a kiss to her head.

"I...Mammon?" The woman raised her head in surprise.

"I-If that's whatcha you want me to be then that's what Imma do."

"You don't have to..."

Mammon stared at her with a serious look, but the blush still on his cheeks.

"Ya ask me if I still have feelin's for ya...the answer is always yes." He told her. "And the truth is, I want that kid to be mine and I want us all to just be happy."

The woman stared in disbelief as Mammon leaned in for kiss and rubbed her belly.

"For now on, yer my girl and that's our kid and we don't have to think about that human asshole, got it?"

MC smiled before nodding and leaning in for another kiss.

Everything is gonna be okay now; the woman just knew it.

Leviathan:

This man and his room was her safe place, just as always.

Despite how awkward Levi was about her pregnancy and ever expending belly, he still cared about his Henry and did what little he felt he could do for her.

Often, the pregnant woman would get overwhelmed and choose to hide in the room with the third brother.

Today is one of those days.

MC was taking a nap while Levi played games with the TV muted, trying to make as little noise as possible for her.

This was both so the woman could sleep undisturbed and so he could listen for if she woke up and needed something from him.

"Le...vi..."

"Y-Yeah?" The man quickly paused his game before turning to his Henry

Only to see her still asleep.

Levi blushed.

Did she....say his name in her sleep???

The envy demon set down his control and crawled over to the bed.

He watched the woman sleep, an action he knew would probably be seen as creepy, but he just wanted to see if she'd say his name again

...plus her sleeping face is really cute 😳

"mmmm...mhmm..."

He listened intently, growing more self conscious by the second

Surely the first time was a fluke and he was being a creepy otaku and this would only upset MC if--

"L...evi...Levi...I love you."

The man tried covering his mouth to muffle his yelp of surprise

But it was too late. The woman's eyes fluttered open and stared at him lovingly, brain still in a sleepy haze.

"Hey..." She gave a soft, sleepy smile.

What was he supposed to say???? After what he just heard especially!!!

It took a couple more seconds for the human's brain to reboot and when she did, her face was just as red as Levi.

The two stared at each other for a moment before MC hid her face in his pillow.

Great, now he made her uncomfortable!!! Gah Levi felt like the worst--

"Levi?" The woman poked an eye out from her hiding spot. "Could...could you lay with me for a bit?"

The two used to lay together a lot before...all of this.

Since he and the others found out about her pregnancy though, the demon couldn't even brush against her arm without jumping out of his skin, let alone lay with her in bed.

MC thought he resented her for being pregnant with another man's baby. No, they weren't together, but she knew she was someone important to him and he wasn't the Avatar of Envy for nothing.

In truth...she was right, at least partially. The more her belly grew, the more awkward and uncomfortable he became.

He also didn't like the thoughts that came into his head.

Levi...has had feelings for her for a while now so...when he discovered she was pregnant...

He was just so jealous.

That stupid human normie was able to date MC of all people?? That dude had that kind of luck yet he still threw her away the moment he found out she was pregnant.

It drove him insane and made him wish that...this baby was his.

Never has Levi really ever thought much about being a dad, but when the person he loved ended up getting pregnant by some shitty guy, it unlocked something in him, something he didn't fully understand

But in this moment, after hearing her declare her love for him in her sleep and now shyly asking for him to lay with her like he used to...the man couldn't say no.

Levi nodded and slowly joined his Henry in bed, laying his head on her chest like he used to

And man, did it feel just like the old days.

The warm, softness of her chest and arms around him, MC playing with his hair with such tenderness...

However, he could hear her heart beating fast, faster than a person who was just sleeping would usually beat and it worried the man

"H-Henry? Are you okay?"

The woman tightened her embrace.

"I don't know..." She said softly. "I just need to hug you for a while. Is that okay?"

Levi nodded in her arms

"S-Sure..."

The two laid together for awhile, causing the demon to eventually relax in her arms

...till his hand slid and accidentally brushed against her belly, causing the man to flinch away like he touched a hot stove.

Bad move, Levi...

"Do you really hate my baby that much?"

"N-No!!!" The man clung to her even tighter in apology. "I-I just...I--"

"I'm sorry." MC started to tear up. "I'm sorry I'm carrying another guy's baby...but please stop pulling away from me."

Stupid!!! Levi should have knew his awkwardness would hurt her, but he didn't know how else to deal with all of this

And now boy was panicking.

"I didn't mean--I'm sorry!!! I just love you and couldn't handle that jerk--"

"Levi?" The tearful woman stared at him, eyes wide.

That's when he realized what he said and started to backpedal.

"I-no! I mean, yes but I--you said it first in your sleep so I just--"

"I did what???" The human's face was redder than Levi's, causing the man to feel the need to speak up a bit more.

"It's fine." He told her. "I...I love you too and I have for a long time."

"Levi..." The woman's chest start to heave up and down unsteadily as her body prepared for some big tears.

The woman squeezed him tightly and cried into his hair.

"I love you..." She sniffled. "I wish this baby was yours...why can't it be yours..."

The envy demon couldn't believe what he was hearing; she was saying all the things he has wanted to hear for so long.

"It...It can be." He blurted out.

MC lifted her head to look down at him.

"Levi--"

"I can be their dad." He offered, nervous. "I...I don't know what I'm doing, but I'll figure it out and try to be a good dad."

"Do...do you mean that?"

"Yes..."

Levi couldn't help it; without much thought, he readjusted himself so he could kiss her.

When he realized what he was doing, he tried to break the kiss, but MC laid both hands on the sides of his face, gently asking him not to pull away

And he'll never pull away; never again.

#obey me #obey me otome #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan

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12pt-times-new-roman · 2 years

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c3e35

Xandis my absolute beloved, I love them so much

I WAS SO DISTRACTED I DIDN'T NOTICE THAT ASHLEY MOVED

that is certainly. A Choice.

"I can get you gold." "Fuck your gold." "Wait, but how much?" FCG is learning

Armand's relationship with Otohan was primarily because she was using him to pay people off, establish the Paragon's Call in Jrusar, and to make sure all the shipments went smoothly. He was expecting his name to be cleared and to rise in the ranks of his house in return. He was curious about Otohan's work, but knew that prying too far into it would be dangerous.

He had meetings with messengers and envoys in the Menagerie Coast, where he paid people to get certain cargo pieces onto House Treshi ships. This only happened a couple times over the years. From there, the shipments were distributed around Jrusar to obfuscate the movement of the shipments, and Jiana Hexum was one of Treshi's major contacts for this purpose.

Treshi is deeply afraid of Otohan and the people he's working with.

The Call seems to be "very death-obsessed." Which makes sense, I guess, given that their official deity seems to be the Duskmaven. But still. Weird wording on that.

"If I can be brought back, anybody can." Ashton??? what does that mean?

"Delilah Briarwood is dead... I didn't say she was gone."

This just in: Whäeeteystone

Sending to Keyleth: "Found the assassins. Found lead. But there are questions. One of ours... down. Strong ties to Whitestone. Please advise. Can you meet?"

Keyleth has business in Vasselheim, but "can meet shortly. Pick a tree."

....Chetney knows "plenty" of the Dawn Marshals of Vasselheim??

Sendings to Jiana Hexum: "Hey lady. FCG here. Ashton has a friend who died. We're proud that he has a friend. Can you help bring her back?" "Sweet little metal boy... what you ask is extremely difficult, and against the nature of fate. Maybe." "Creepy lady — what would it cost us, or what would you want in return? Ashton's very motivated, and I'm eager to please." "I certainly have a few ideas. Let's discuss, perhaps, over tea. What's the rush?"

We do not fucking leave people behind. Not you, not Laudna, not anybody. We're not fucking doing that, not anymore. "Ashton, are you going soft on us?" Yes, no, fuck— I need a drink. ashton.......bb.......

What the fuck is SHARED DREAM??? FCG??? This is 100% homebrew, it's not even a fucking reskin I don't think. Dream is a fifth level spell, so whatever this is has to be significantly less powerful than that (1st or 2nd level by the sounds of it).

"You hear a howl. A loud, arcing howl... and the howl is yours, beyond your control, an instinctual howl in that direction [of Ruidus]. You stop yourself mid-way and you see the fur pushing past the fingers, and then it's gone."

Airship combat! Airship combat!

Nope, nevermind, it's a sandstorm.

Airship skill challenge! Airship skill challenge!

Well.

FCG is..... somewhere.

And now Ashton is the only one left on the ship beside the crew.

Okay. That wasn't as bad as it could've been. The storm only lasts about 20 minutes, and they find each other easy enough.

Fuckin..... 28 AC? jesus christ.

oh Ashton is going to snap at Chetney soon. "Over here! They're dead, just leave them!" as Ashton is dangling from the bottom of a rope ladder attached to a speeding sky ship, reaching down to try and pull Fearne out of a collapsing sand dune. immediately after they gave a speech about not leaving anybody behind.

and to that point — something I felt like never really got touched on with the M9 was how sometimes jokes just are straight-up Not Okay To Make and I feel like the Hells are going to be a lot better about setting boundaries with each other

break time!

adksjdghflgf ANOTHER sand storm

okay, this one's behind them, they can outrun it this time using the cold front it's pushing forward

we're back in Jrusar!

Another skyship came in while they were docking— it was carrying passengers and cargo, and the name on it is the Herald's Breath.

I swear to god, if FCG's aversion to birds turns out to be because they were programmed to fight angels, I will be feral

"So many things are being learned, but I don't know by who" should be the Hells' tagline

"What you are asking for is an extremely rare and difficult ritual. The ability to bring someone back from the dead is a very lauded and sought-after technique, very few can perform this miracle, and those who do are very careful and meticulous with who they do it for. Otherwise, death would be merely an inconvenience."

Eshteross does have somebody who owes him a debt, and she would be able to transport the Hells somewhere faster than the Silver Sun could — Menaya Trei is someone who works with the people who oversee the infrastructure of Jrusar. If the Hells could find someone who would be able to bring Laudna back, he'd be able to call in the favor and get them there quickly.

With Treshi, the Hells could either take him to the city guard, which would deliver him anonymously, or directly to the Quorum, which would net them the bounty on Treshi's head but would also draw attention to them.

Sending to Keyleth: "We're still waiting. We still need your help. Is your business finished? I'm begging you. Orym is begging you." "I'm sorry. I believe I'm nearly finished here. I'll see what I can do. I don't fully understand what's being asked, but I'll try."

When Will and Derrig died, Keyleth tried to save them with revivify (or "pretty soon after"), but something went wrong and it didn't work. Something about the nature of what they did when they struck made it not work. Which is weird! Because Orym and Fearne were both also killed by Otohan but were revivified! so either this is a clever narrative explanation for the ritual failing, or it's an actual effect that the echoes have when they kill someone.

The first bit of fear they've seen from Eshteross is evoked when Orym mentions the Cerberus Assembly.

Otohan's title during the Apex War was "the Legend of the Peak."

Hexum's collection has been growing over the past few years, which is strange for someone "sitting on a stagnant fortune." This indicates that she's getting more than just the dunamis potions from the Assembly's shipments, or is keeping some of it for herself.

The Nightmare King was a "figure for hire" during the Apex War, playing both sides before aligning with the Stratos Throne and then going missing.

The "official position" of the Chandei Quorum is that the Cerberus Assembly is a "necessary evil in a world beset by all sorts of moral interests," but Sheshadri noted that the Quorum has no direct dealings with the Assembly, which is a claim that was not insight checked.

All said and done, with Treshi turned in, the Hells got 3.3k gold each (including Laudna and excluding FCG).

Ashton lore: Inside Ashton's head, Imogen fails a casting check and runs into a glass wall that looks like the speckled glass of their head wound. "Imogen. You stand before this glass, watching beyond, and as you watch this glass that divides the two of you, you watch as the speckled appearance begins to fill with this dull gray coloration, obscuring FCG on the opposite side. There, you glance into it, and you see stars. [Like, how far do they go? Does it look like I'm looking into space?] It looks like you're staring into the night sky, and as you focus, you push through the glass and feel like you're lost in an expanse of infinity. You see nebulas, you look down and you see Ashton just lying there, motionless. There's a shake and a shift of color and you see them standing, laughing. You see Ashton fully armored, clutching the bloodied body of someone as they crush it. You see Ashton destitute on the side of the street, hungry and starving, asking for help. Ashton on a ship in the distance pushing past a fog bank, Ashton wearing robes in a senate seat — you see so many different Ashtons, different, all held by a singular thread but none of them the one you know. You are lost in this chaotic moment, and it's beginning to shake more and more, and you feel a similar creeping fear of losing yourself like you did the first time you ran from the storm."

FCG is trapped in Ashton's mind.

Fearne can see Imogen and FCG inside the glass in Ashton's head because they're trapped inside their memories.

"I'm gonna just sort of... flex?" "It doesn't feel good. Everything hurts. Always." "There is strength, but there is pain. But to clarify — there is pain, but there is strength."

Okay they got out but holy fuck that was insane??? what is happening inside their head?? none of them the Ashton you know? like the first time you ran from the storm???

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry, Ashton." "Did you find anything? Please." "A lot. A lot of really weird fuckin' shit." "Thank you... thank you."

Of the Ashtons that Imogen saw, some had the fractures, some did not, and some had human skin. So whatever this did, it didn't just hijack his present and his future. It cascaded back through his past.

The shapes Fearne saw were "shapeless, yet familiar. It's strange."

So..... huh. Imogen getting pulled in to the expanse and seeing Ashton there (with an implied golden thread, since Matt described them as all connected by the same thread) is very similar to Caleb seeing the threads of fate in the beacon, but again, convoluted and twisted.

Sending to Delilah: "How do I bring her back? Tell me what to do. I'll do anything." The voice responds, fainter. Thin. Fading. "Whatever it takes. It won't be long now. I'm fading. And I'll take her with me."

Matt not calling it after that rest even though they were past 4 hours seems...... like he's trying to hit a particular story beat before the episode ends.

Orym succeeds his save against Kiki's scrying

Sending to Keyleth: "Are you in Vasselheim still? 'Cause you're about to have some company." "Uh, no, I'm — sorry, I'm trying to see where you are and was met with some interference. Where are you?" "We're in the Collective of Botan, in Jrusar, in Marquet. How much do you know?" "Okay, it's been a little while — got it."

SHE ARRIVES

"Well, come then. We need to speak with some... someone who can help you."

to..... Whitestone.

#critical role #note watches c3 #critical role spoilers #critical role campaign 3 #critical role c3 #critical role liveblog

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irxnmaiden · 1 year

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FIRST MEETINGS MEME

a meme for first meetings and introduction threads, aka a “what you will notice about my muse first” cheat sheet. repost, don’t reblog. bold what applies. fill in details.

GENERAL APPEARANCE

Gender: Masculine. Feminine. Non-Binary. Notes: Jasmine’s pronouns are she/her/they/them, and there is some fluidity in her gender expression/fashion choices.

Complexion: Light freckles, tans very easily; generally doesn’t stay pale for long, aside from during the winter months.

Height: 5'6"

Body Type: Endomorph. Mesomorph. Ectomorph. Other / More Details: Slightly toned, considering her routine training and diet (which is concentrated on vegetables and fish).

Body Build: Small. Medium. Large. Athletic. Slender. Muscular. Soft. Curvy. Voluptuous. Other / More Details: N/A

Body Hair: None. Shaves/Waxes. Trims/Grooms. Untamed.

Color: Same as her hair color, though a lighter shade.

Head Hair: None. Buzzed. Short. Medium. Long. Very Long.

Color: Chestnut, though it lightens substantially come summer to a Honey Brown.

Style: Long and typically straight, though occasionally curled. Often worn either with a middle part or her iconic pigtails. Also, she will sport two braids framing her face occasionally, as well hair buns when her pins are misplaced.

Eyes: Hazel/light brown. Thin eyebrows, long lashes.

Scars: Huge fang marks along her outer upper left thigh, with burn scars trailing upwards towards her mid torso (courtesy of a Rocket Admin’s* Houndoom). A collection of smaller scars and slashes as a result of training with Steelix, Scizor, and similar species. These can be found in various places along her body.

FASHION

Fashion Style: Vintage. Traditional. Casual. Artsy. Vibrant. Geeky/Nerdy. Tomboy. Sporty. Trendy. Preppy. Girly. Bohemian. Elegant. Formal. Grunge. Punk. Rocker. Gothic.

Color Palette: White, beige and creams; teals; deep purples and reds; evergreen; yellows and burnt oranges.

Piercings: Ears & bellybutton.

Tattoos: A floral tattoo located on her upper right hip.

EXPRESSION

General Facial Expression: Soft/neutral; daydreamy, and occasionally vacant/wandering. Smiles easily, and is hard to make frown.

General Movements: Flowy and gentle, though there is a dominance in how she holds her shoulders. Typically walks between a stroll and a skip.

NOTABLE FOR RP

Presence: Jasmine’s known to be a pleasant and typically unassuming person, someone who can easily blend in to most environments/situations with little interruption. She is very approachable, and holds manners in high regard. She’s encouraging, and a very good listener and conversationalist (when not lost in thought). Her resolve is sturdy, and she is far from a push-over—but does enjoy toying with people’s perception of her.

Appearance: Generally well-kept and hygienic, very light/dewy make-up. Favors clothes that are comfortable, although is prone to dressing up when there are events. She holds herself with poise and an air of class, though these are simply aspects of her mannerisms and aren’t the result of pretension.

Scent: Sandalwood, eucalyptus, lavender, jasmine (naturally), citrus scents.

Voice Description: Sweet like honey, yet strong; there is a strength to it that shows more once she’s comfortable around someone. It also is more prominent in the heat of battle.

Accent: yes / no. More information: Italian, though it softens once she moves to Johto. After several years of being with James, she picks up a slight British accent—it is mainly noticeable with only a handful of words and phrases.

#thought this would b cute to re-establish!!#esp before paldea gets going #not sure how this checks w the last time i did one of these c': hopefully its still consistent enough #::👩‍🔧 headcanons.#::🌻 dashgames.

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tommyspeakycap · 3 years

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I love your work! I was wondering if you’d be willing to write something about (toddler) baby Shelby having Alfie help her bake a cake for Tommy

omggggg that’s so so cute!!

A Bakers Help

The burly Camden Town ‘baker’ was nothing short of completely shocked when he heard a soft banging on his office door in the mid afternoon. His eyebrows had furrowed and he had kept his hand readily on his weapon so he was prepared in the event of an enemy being on the other side of the door. He was surprised to say the least when he tugged open the door and had to look down multiple inches to spot she who knocked on the door.

There stood a little girl. One he knew fairly well but who’s appearance outside his office was still a shock. That little girl was notorious around most of England, especially in heavily gang populated territories where the “Shelby” was a household name and everybody who knew that name knew the littlest member of the family was something akin to a jewel in Tommy Shelby’s crown. Alfie had been curious as to whether or not she was actually attached to Thomas Shelby’s hip in consideration to how much time she spent right by his side, teetering along on little legs so he knew she was safe right by his side. It wasn’t often that Tommy entrusted others to watch over his youngest sister, so it would be safe to say that Alfie was incredibly confused.

“Good morning.” The little girl greets, her lips plastered with a bright smile as she lifts a hand to wave at him. Alfie braces himself on either side of his doorway with strong hands so as to lean out of his office to look out into the ‘bakery’ to both the left and right before stepping back in. “Mhm yes it was actually. Where’s your brothers?” He asks, turning his eyes back to the girl in the doorway who fights to pull her wool coat back up from falling off her arms due to the fact it hadn’t been buttoned up. The girl shrugs, “Dunno...Can I come in?” She asks politely, “It’s very cold.”

Alfie Solomons squints his eyes and forms a crease between his brows, but even he can’t deny the chill in the winter breeze through the unheated factory and the shivering of the child, and so he steps to the side and gestures her in the door. Alfie hums, or maybe something more akin to a grumble, in thought as the five year old wanders around his office to take in the whole surroundings. “And where are your pikey brothers then yeah?” His voice rumbles deep and gravelly the same way it always does, not missing the chance or thinking twice about dropping an insult to the Shelby men as he speaks. The youngest of the clan shrugs her little shoulders. “Dunno,” she says again, “I’m with Ada. Told her i was going out to play.”

The words most definitely do worry Alfie Solomons after the girl with Tommy Shelby’s striking blue eyes and his heart in the palm of her tiny hand finishes speaking flippantly. It occurs to him that she’s simply too young to understand both risk and consequence. She knows that Tommy Shelby dotes on her like the little princess he believes her to be. She knows he loves her, he tells her every day. However, Alfie knows the far darker side to that love. He’s heard of people brutally murdered with remains unidentifiable after coming close to her, and although Alfie has no desire to harm a child who probably doesn’t even understand what it is the rest of her family do when she’s not around, that doesn’t reassure him even in the slightest that Tommy, Arthur, Ada and John Shelby along with Polly Gray wouldn’t rip him to shreds if they knew their little princess was stood in his office for whatever reason.

“Right,” Alfie states, “Better get you home then,” He strides easily towards the door to hold it open, but the little girl simply quirks one eyebrow and remains where she stands. “It’s Tommy’s birthday soon.” She declares, looking up at the hardened London gangster as if he poses no threat nor fear to her in the slightest bit. She smiles at him, big and bright. She didn’t know him. She didn’t know if he was violent, didn’t know if he was supposed to be scary. She just knew she had met him before, he was relatively funny as the 5 year old obviously did not pick up on the thinly veiled threats hiding beneath the verbal back and forth between her favourite brother and the man she stood with now, and more importantly than anything; she knew he was a ‘baker’. “You need a cake on your birthday, you know.” She adds very matter of factly, and Alfie Solomons doesn’t fight the little grin he gives. “And you’re a baker, so you can make good cakes. I need you to help me make Tommy’s cake for birthday cake time on Saturday.”

There’s virtually no way this little girl had just come up with this by herself. The way she acts, her generosity, her sweetness and her absolute insistence of cake for her brothers birthday was not something she had adapted by herself. Children don’t just come up with these things. That thought, for Alfie, means that those who have raised her have drilled a certain kindness into her. Thomas Shelby has raised his little sister to be the kind of kid who will find a man she thinks is a baker just because her brother told her he was, so that he can help her make a cake. That makes Alfie want to laugh. Tommy Shelby acts the part, but Solomons now knows he’s the type who taught a little girl about the importance of cake and birthday fun.

“Fine.” Alfie responds, out stretching his arm to gesture the little girl out into the factory. He did actually have a designated area for the ‘bakery’ just in the event that someone came looking or investigating and he needed to show there was actually a bakery there. He was thankful for that now, because he got the feeling that there was little to no chance he would have gotten away from the very very persistent little Shelby trailing behind him. It becomes apparent very quickly that little (y/n) will have no luck when it comes to seeing what was going on up on the counter, considering she wasn’t even nearly the same height as it, never mind tall enough see over it. Alfie has to get creative in that respect, eyes flicking around until they lands on a a stack of crates that he grabs a couple of to pile them next to the counter so that the youngest Shelby can contribute as she pleased to the cake making.

All things considered, Alfie was actually a fairly good baker. He didn’t come up with the idea of a bakery to cover his illegal business work for no reason. He knew he could bake if it was necessary (which it sometimes was to smuggle alcohol), so this ask from the little girl who had a list of ingredients and an exact image of how she wanted this cake to look, wasn’t a huge task for him.

In the process of the bake, Alfie learned a lot. He learned that little Shelby couldn’t quite pronounce her L’s (which Tommy was apparently working on with her), so she called him Afie. He learned that Tommy’s favourite cake was vanilla sponge, which was why it was a four tier vanilla sponge with extra strawberry jam that his sweet little sister had chosen. He learned that the little girl got here by very discretely tripping up her cousin, Karl, so that Ada was preoccupied giving him a plaster for his knee and stopping his tears and (y/n) snuck off from Ada’s London home in the direction she felt like she remembered Tommy going when he had taken her to Alfie’s bakery once, albeit leaving her in the car with Arthur and John. She had to ask for directions from confused strangers a few times, but ultimately she found the place on her own. Alfie learned that little Shelby talks a lot. She’s very clever, can follow instructions a lot better than most children of a similar age. It had become increasingly clear she didn’t see any problem with talking about the fun things she did with her brothers. The way Arthur and John like to throw her about to hear her giggles, how Tommy tucks her in every single night that he can. How he tickles her, how he still carries her around even though her aunt Polly protests it. How good her aunt Polly’s cooking is. How much she loves her family. She sees no problem with divulging these soft family moments, although Tommy would probably be absolutely appalled that people knew these things about him and his brothers. It made the head of the Peaky Blinders seem so incredibly mundane.

Alfie could see now why that sweet girl was so loved and held so dear by the family. He also had to wonder if she truly was one of them. She was funny and bright, she giggled with him and babbled on about sorts of rubbish. Alas, she was bossy as Thomas himself. She was loud like Arthur, sarcastic as John, self assured as Polly, as independent as Finn and opinionated as Ada. She made sure to tell Alfie exactly how to stack the first layer while she mixed ingredients for the next layer and he was kept on a very short leash, reminded every so often that he was not to dip his fingers in any of the mixtures and leaning over as he worked to tell him Tommy liked more jam than what Alfie had put on.

“Wait!” She yelps out, leaping off the makeshift kitchen stool made from those bottle crates to chase after Alfie until she reaches the man who was carrying the cake towards a box. “Finishing touches,” she insists, ever so slightly dusting the cake with powdered icing sugar to give a final decorational appearance. Alfie smiles subconsciously as the small girl stands back with a proud grin, turning her eyes to man holding the cake, “Thank you Afie,” she beams, her cute little way of saying his name never lost on him as his heart flutters. “Welcome, baby Shelby.” He responds as he slips it into the cake box he’d ordered one of his men to go and get without question.

Alfie was certain he would step outside his bakery and London would be burning. He expected to have Shelby’s killing people on the streets searching for their baby, their sweet little princess. He assumed (and rightly so) that Ada hadn’t told Tommy that she had absolutely no idea where his most precious little love was for genuine fear of his reaction and so she had mobilised some friends and acquaintances she had made while in London to try finding her little sister. Albeit they were evidently unsuccessful and absolutely no one expected little (y/n) to be baking with Alfie Solomons for her gangster brothers birthday because she just loves him so.

Ada literally burst out the front door frantically when she saw the car headlights pull up outside her house, wrapping herself tightly in her coat as Alfie Solomons lifts her little sister down out of the car. The 5 year old stands innocent as ever next to the man who Tommy never truly knows if he can trust or not as he reaches back into the car to lift out a white cake box with two strong hands. “Better keep a closer eye on this one yeah?” He gestured his head to (y/n) who runs towards Ada and jumps into her open arms to be squeezed incredibly, almost painfully tightly. “Never run off like that again!” She hisses, her concern and anxiety clear behind her words as she speaks into her sisters soft hair, stroking it with her hand for some form of reassurance.

“Sorry Ada,” she hums cutely in response, “We made Tommy a cake though, for his birthday!” Ada let’s go of (y/n) and turns to the little girl. “Go inside and find Aunt Pol, i’ll be in shortly.” She says as she eyes Alfie Solomons with the stoney faced glare he assumes she learned from Polly Gray and her often stoney resolve. “Bye bye Afie!” The 5 year old chimes, scuttling up to him to wrap her arms around his legs for a moment before turning and running off with a wave at the doorstep with Alfie a little bit to stunned by how kind she was to him despite the bad man he was to do much else than wave after her. “You,” Ada snipped, cutting him out of his thoughts and crossing her arms firmly over her chest, “Baked a cake with my little sister?” Her words leak with confusion, eyebrows furrowed with her head tilted in question as she continues to be unable to think of any reason why Alfie Solomons hadn’t turned the little girl away or even used her as a bargaining chip with threats of harm to the child if Tommy didn’t do as Alfie wanted. Instead he baked with her a cake for Thomas and she was returned without a bump, not even a hair on her head harmed. He had returned the little Shelby who was uncharacteristically clumsy for a Shelby without her falling off of anything, burning herself on any ovens or accidentally eating something she was supposed to.

“Yeah.” Alfie responds, shrugging his shoulders at the same time. Ada steps closer to him to try in some way to read what he’s not saying, her heels clicking with each step. “And you want nothing for it?” She presses, her eyes narrowed as he shrugs. “Birthday gift innit yeah?” He grumbles, handing the cake to Ada. “She’s the best of you lot,” he states firmly as he turns his back to climb back into his car, “Keep her that way yeah?”

Ada’s frown turns to a soft smile as she nods, watching as Alfie Solomons pulls his door shut firmly and turns on his ignition.

“Mr Solomons, Oi!” She calls after him, forcing him to roll down his window to hear what she has to say. “Thank you.” She breathes, “For looking after her and bringing her home. And for the cake.” Alfie nods his head in acknowledgment. Ada isn’t sure what else to say. She still feels fairly nauseous at the fact her little sister was missing for virtually the whole day and littered with further nerves at the fact Tommy would be around to pick her up in a half hour and it wasn’t like little Shelby to keep quiet about anything, especially not when it came to Tommy and especially when it came to her adventures that her favourite brother hadn’t been part of, so assuredly she would let him know all about her baking day with Alfie after the cake was revealed tomorrow afternoon for his birthday. Alfie knew this too and he imagined he’d get a visit from the head of the Peaky Blinders relatively soon after he found out.

Tommy would probably be as confused as Ada as to why Alfie looked after little (y/n) the way he did. Alfie couldn’t even really explain it himself, she just warmed up his heart and the sweet little girl showed Alfie truly why Tommy loves that little girl so much. She brings laughter and happiness and fun. She brings light into a very, very dark life and Alfie appreciates that dedication Tommy had to keeping her safe a lot more now. He himself now had a soft spot for the kid and there was a part of him that knew for a fact he too would be making sure no one in his circle was breathing words of harming that little girl who had promised she would bake with him again, and had his birthday written on her hand so she could bake for his birthday.

Maybe the Shelby’s weren’t so bad after all.

#tommy shelby x sister!reader #tommy shelby x sister reader #shelby sister #shelby sister reader #shelby!sister #shelby!sister reader #shelby!reader #peaky blinders #peaky blinders blurb #(y/n) shelby #little shelby

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kookiecrumb · 3 years

Text

jjk|| Your Head

"tags": @kazthebrekkerofinej

word count: uhhhh

summary: Jungkook is the heir to the throne of your Kingdom! In this tale of duty versus heart, will love prevail victorious?

tags: Royalty!Jungkook x Peasant!Reader, oneshot, smut, fluff, slight angst, some crack, pining, forbidden lovers, Jungkookie has a sweet tooth, strangers to friends to lovers

warnings: explicit language, impact play, birthday sex (technically), fingering, oral (m receiving*), love marking, alcohol consumption, s&m themes, horny grinding, praise kink/body worship

a/n:

hey guys!

Firstly, I want to say how proud I am of myself for growing so much during this fic. I learned a lot about what I'm comfortable with, what I'd like to work on, and where my confidences lie.

I won't lie and say it's been easy, because writing this meant dealing with a lot of my fears? I'm excited for all the works that are to come.

The only thing I can do is be as receptive to growth as possible, so I'm looking forward to learning...

*I actually learned that Vaseline wasn't invented until like the 1870s? The fic is written in the 1810s, so I actually had a choice between having them do it with vegetable oil or spit. Spit won.

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5 years ago

You bend over to pick up an apple that had rolled over under your father's produce cart, praying that it isn't bruised so that you have to pay for it out of your dinner, when a crumpled piece of paper hits you in the ass.

Confused, you crawl out from under the stand and unwrap the paper.

The paper itself is of the finest quality you've ever seen. It's a sturdy cardstock, bleached white with gold etchings on the borders. The print on the top of it reads "His Highness Jeon's Royal Study," and scribbled in some kid's amateur cursive below, "Nice butt."

You directed your gaze upwards, towards the towering castle walls. Sure enough, a boy no older than 15 had his noggin popping out from the top of the rampart, with two wide eyes staring down, curious as to your reaction. This was Prince Jungkook, heir to the throne of your kingdom.

"Shouldn't you be equestrian horse riding or playing polo or something?" You shout. He furrows his eyebrows, apparently offended at your assumption, and then disappears behind the edifice.

Moments later, another paper hits your shoulder as you're practicing your caligraphy behind your cart. It lands between the apples, so you reach your hand over and fish out out.

You glance up at the anticipant, and sure enough he's there with his doe eyes and his coconut head, ogling.

"No, dumbie. That's at MID-day." Well how were YOU supposed to know the royal schedule of the crown prince, it wasn't just common knowlegde you learned from being a humble farmer's daught--

Ah!

"Will you STOP?!" You put your foot down. "Unless you're here to buy my apples, then you're not getting ANY, little Prince." Oh, shit. You gave him ideas. Now it was really over for you.

In less than half an hour, half a company of men arrived at the marketplace, asking about your little old apple stand, and sure enough, Jungkook had bought out the entire cart so that you were forced to help with the transaction.

The young prince had eyes frankly too big for his head, with the most prominent cupid's bow you've ever seen. His nose slightly outgrew his face and his ears were hidden away behind his short, black hair. "Now you can talk to me." He gave you a rose he'd stolen from the royal garden. "I am Jungkook, heir to the throne of--"

"I know who you are." You interrupt him, documenting His Highness' total in your calligraphy book.

With a hand perched on his chest from surprise, he scoffed. "And I happen to think you're really pretty, so I was going to ask you to be my very first consor--"

"You're 15, you have playmates not consorts."

"And how old are you?!" He's had it, raising his voice and taking a bite out of one of your apples with force.

"16, old enough to have suitors." You tease. Jungkook hangs his head a little. He just needed someone to talk to, it would seem. Reluctantly, you scribbled down your address down on a piece of note paper and handed it to him.

"Look, if you buy more of my apples, I'll have an excuse to tell my Dad so I can hang out with you." You spoke in a low voice as to not raise suspicion.

Your dad is standing negotiating with the guards about prices, his usual embarassing haggling gruffly overpowering the guards elegant twiddle-tones.

"Wonderful! See you soon, my sweet!" He resumes his confident demeanor, tucking the paper into his overcoat with a small smile. He salutes you boyishly and marches away with a year's supply of apples.

For the next week, the royal kitchen had baked 3 apple pies, made 5 fruit salads, 4 batches of apple muffins, and threw the rest of them in Sangria; that's the same Sangria as King Jeon finds himself drinking in his wife's drawing room on Sunday.

"Call Chef, fetch him up here." He waves to his assistant, keeping his eyes on the outside. He was deep in thought, his hands stoicly behind his back.

The Kingdom had been prosperous for over many years now, and war had not come close to threatening its borders in a lifetime. Negotiations were always successful, and quality of living was high. The work of a King, in a situation such as this, was to perfect the image of the royal family as strong rulers, and to paint his daughters as desirable to foreign heirs.

"Your Grace," the assistant called his attention, "Head Chef Sung." The dainty man bows and scurries off somewhere else.

Chef Sung is a portly man, who carries himself heaving with every step, his great belly inflating with each hefty inhale. He approaches the King, and kneels down to kiss his hand with his fat lips.

The King recoils in disgust, but quickly collects himself and his words. "Where are these apples from, is it France or Spain?" He demands.

"Neither, Your Highness." Mr.Sung lifts up his eyes. "They are from our Holy Kingdom; by order of Prince Jungkook, an entire cart was purchased of these apples and we have not been able to get rid of them." Tears threatened Chef Sungs eyes at the very mention of the fruit.

'Well, there's one thing the kid's done right.' King Jeon now faces the Chef, setting down his drink on a mahogany table, leaning against it casually. "Well! Good. I'd like to meet the owner of that cart, invite him to my Sunday brunch."

"Oh, yes, of course sir! You'll never see them in our kitchen aga--What?" Chef Sung takes out his handkerchief, waving it around in the air and drying his tears at once. "So you like them! Why...Yes! Yes, of course!"

Your father thought it would be valuable to have you around the kitchen, learning from the skilled men and women employed by the Jeon family. He only visited once a week to drop off fresh produce, (he'd been officially hired to handle restocking of goods) but you, after showing promising signs of being a gifted baker during one of your father's restocks, were granted scholarship by Ms.Kang to be her aid.

You were now, officially, a resident of the Jeon Estate, residing in the servant's quarters, immediately adjacent to the kitchen. This was convenient. It was far too convenient for a certain little Prince to get the idea of wanting a midnight snack and wandering downstairs.

One day, he does just that. He finds his way into the first bedroom to the right of the stairs facing the kitchen, and that happens to be your bedroom.

He pokes you awake. "Ow! Ow, whyyy~" You whine and toss yourself over to the other side of the bed. His irritating poking persists. You grab his fingers and your eyes shatter open.

You sit up, alarmed. "You could have me arrested, what the fuck are you doing?!"

"I wanted a midnight snack! Besides, I wanna talk to you." He pouts, still holding a small teddy companion.

"Fine. I'll bake you ONE sheet of cookies." You slip on your night shoes and shuffle to the kitchen, and Jungkook tags along.

By the time Jungkook's 18th birthday comes around, he's in the kitchen helping you whisk buttercream to top his cake while having a tease at the Austrian Princess' mole.

"You have one right under your lip, look!" You take a little buttercream from the bowl and stain the dark spot with it.

He licks it up and hastens to add, "it needs more sugar, lady!" as he turns to grab a puffy bag of confection sugar.

"You're impossible to please." Snatching the sugar away from him, you smirk. "You can gobble down as many sweets as you want when the ball commences. Remember, this is the year you're supposed to be keeping your eye out for a girl of a good fam--"

"Yada yada, must have hips for childbearing, yada yada yada..." He mocks the speech his mother had told him that morning when he got dressed.

"Exactly." You set your bowl aside to fix Jungkook's tie. "Yes, and that's your duty, as our heir."

You step back and examine Jungkook one more time. He'd grown so tall in the last year, his legs like spider's and he was just beginning to grow into his features. Handsome boy.

You, too, had grown into an elegant young woman. You had a poised complexion, ready-mannered and graceful. Your hands seemed out of place in your otherwise feminine frame, carrying an extra bit of girth from baking. You were 19 years old.

Marriage was becoming an uncomfortably frequent topic during your visits home, as your mother had married young, herself, she expected the same of you.

Truth be told, there were plenty of offers for your hand. You were a skilled and very esteemed individual, who had broken into thr artisinal class. But your father knew better than put a dowry on your happiness. So long as you worked, he saw no reason to marry you off just yet.

"Now, go. Your sisters must be worried sick! Go out there." You shoo him, pushing him out the door of the kitchen despite his flailing arms.

Throughout the party, you'd been carrying a platter of your own baked goods, serving them to the aristocrats attending the Princes' coming-of-age ball. Accents from all over Europe and some from Kingdoms as far East as Cyprus jubilantly engaged in artful conversation which filled the air with good spirits.

Jungkook, himself, was busy being introduced to as many women as possible, a medley of presenting duchesses, ladies, and even Princesses of your Kingdom. They were each more qualified than you'll ever be, ten-fold.

One was a Greek Princess, her hair cascaded in darling curls down her shoulders and her eyes were deep-set, her voice a flirtatious trill.

Another, a Prussian Princess', posture radiated excellency, and whose complexion sparkled like powdered snow. Jungkook greeted her warmly, pleased with her appearance.

Distracted, you tripped up your skirt and dropped the remainder of your pastries. With that, you stepped off to use the restroom.

The sound of Strauss' Rosen aus dem Süden faintly loomed in the air as you wiped tears from your waterline in the mirror. That was just the way it was, wasn't it? Princes come of age, and they find wives who they commit their lives to.

"Married men don't have friends who are girls." You say out loud, just to realize it. Jungkook was now expected to find a mate within the season, and he was, in fact, quite the eligible bachelor.

Little did you know that Jungkook had been keeping an eye out for you throughout the party, not only because you were carrying his favorite Danish pastires, but because he knew your company was his greatest comfort.

He's in the midst of greeting the Duchess of Kent when he excuses himself to go look for you. He finds your mess first, frowning as he realizes something has gone terribly wrong.

He catches you in the hallway, face puffy and shaky. He grabs your wrist to keep you from darting back to the kitchen.

"Please don't do this, it's my birthday, y/n." It's as if an unspoken rule had been broken between you, and he feels it. Something is making you uncomfortable. "Was it the girls? You told me about this, it's my duty to at least greet them and--"

"Yeah, you sure did greet the Prussian woman nicely." You speak through tears. "She's the girl you were born to be with, huh? Your birthright?"Jungkook is silent. "Every girl at that ball wants to be your wife, want to have your children. They haven't known you for a day and yet they're ready to be your bride."

You search Jungkook's eyes for any sign of coherence, hoping that he would defend against you, that he would speak up and tell you otherwise. No such argument comes.

You yank your arm from his grip and march to the kitchen to remake the pastries you spilled.

You had the job of clearing off all the tables upon the departure of the last guests. It is midnight, and the windows of the castle stream moonlight down on the carpet beneath your feet. The glow of candles soothe you as you hum the waltzes which echo in your mind. It's a brilliant evening.

The centerpieces of the tables were gardenias, lush rose-like flowers with yellow pistils.

Summer, 1809

"Jungkook, wait! You're going to make me trip!" You shout from the top of the hill.

"You've gotta come see before the sun sets! It's the only way we'll get there on time, now run!" Jungkook's speeding down the terrain towards the Sycamore tree which grew deep and wide beneath the banks of a great rushing river.

You groan and throw caution to the wind, rolling down the steep mount in your Sunday dress. Jungkook turns to watch you, a grin spreading across his handsome face. "Look at you!"

You land on your feet at the bottom and scurry off to join Jungkook under the grandfather tree, out of breath entirely. "Now, look what you made me do. You're such a boy, you know that?! Making me come out here just to see some bloody--"

Jungkook has plucked a gardenia and placed it behind your ear. "Would you shut up? We got here on time. Behold."

In all its glory, the sun bathes you in its vivacious rays, creating a feeling of heavenly bliss as it dips below the horizon. The sky blushes pink, its clouds mere whisps above you. Wind rustles the leaves of the grand tree, rousing the birds to chirp their afternoon song.

"Mom used to come here all the time with my Dad, because of these." Jungkook clasped the blooming flower in his tender hands.

After a while, he says "the bugs will come out soon, so we ought to go back," as if he's trying not to scare something away. He helps you up, and with one last look across the valley, you walk next to each other back to the East Quarters.

You take all the silverware and plates by the tub to the dish-washing station and toss all of the linen napkins into the washing machine. All you had left was to blow out the lights in leading upstairs.

"Prince! It is very late, and there are no guests left for you to entertain. What troubles you?" Jungkook's sitting on the stairs with his head in his hands, still wearing his best suit.

"I disappointed you, y/n...I didn't like any of them." He admits, lifting his head up to sulk at you. "I should have told you then, but I didn't want to make you upset!"

Did Jungkook mistake your jealousy for disappointment?

"I'm not upset because you didn't hit it off with the girls..." You sigh. A confession is due, and he's ready to hear the truth from you about how you feel about him.

"Well, the truth is, I didn't like any of the girls because I like you, y/n. But you know that, don't you?" You pause, asking him to elaborate.

"Remember when I bought all the apples because I wanted to be with you? Like...I told you that you were my consort and I kind of meant it?" He felt pathetic now, realizing that you weren't just ignoring his advances. "So you didn't friendzone me for 2 years, you actually didn't know that I liked you."

It was almost laughable, a situation you would read in one of your illegal novels which you kept tucked away in your pillow at night. "No, Kookie, I didn't." You admit to your insolence.

You can't bear to lead him on any longer. You needed to put duty over your own self interest for the sake of the kingdom, even if it shattered his hope. It was better this way.

"But, you do know that we can't ever be a thing, right? It's just silly." Your heart tightens with the words which fall out of your mouth. "It is. Nevermind what your parents would think, what would it do for your image? You're on the world's stage, Jungkook, and you're a selfish person if you think you can just throw all of your duties away to date a scum of the Earth like-- like me!" With your heart in your throat, dry your eyes with your sleeve. "And...I want to, I really really want to, more than anything else to love you, Jungkook. I love you! I...can't." Through the blur of your tears, the shapeless blob that Jungkook has become stands up.

Taking his thumb and swiping it under your eyes, he sighs. Words escaping him, he takes your trembling body against his chest and nestles his head in the crook of your neck. Your cold hands travel underneath his overcoat to hold his waist. The Princes' lips plant a gentle kiss on your neck, chaste yet deep and satisfying.

"I will not accept any bride if not you, my love." He draws back, meeting your fervid gaze. "To the world, I remain a bachelor for a few years."

"And after those years, Jungkook?" You ride your hands up to caress the man's jaw. "You will still love me after those years, and then what?"

"I don't know," he says, voice as soft as powder. "I don't know many things, y/n, that's why I need you to teach me." His palms are rubbing at your waist, beckoning you closer.

His breath quickening as you lean your body against his hold, and you figure it must be the wine he drank to calm his nerves. That was it, wasn't it? He was drunk.

"You're not drunk, are you?" Your face sours, really hoping it's not the case as you feel your body temperature rise.

"Y/N, I've only had a glass. You saw I was a wreck back there." His lips kept chasing yours in a dance you can't quite describe. "I have wanted to hold you like this since I saw you selling apples on the street. Give me the honor..." His forehead against yours and his strong hands supporting your back, he's already fucking you with his eyes.

"The pleasure of being your lover." He squeezes your waist tight with his forearms, planting brisk kisses behind your ear and breathing in your scent. He smiles against you. Your skin pebbles at his affectionate touch, purring softly as your eyes roll back in delight.

"Kookie..." You breathe, leaning on his broad chest. "Kook, the maids are wondering where I am, I have to go..." You slur, tugging at his collar.

He grunts in protest, taking your ear between his teeth and nibbling it.

"If you let me go, I'll steal some cake for you tomorrow at breakfast." If there's anything Jungkook likes more than Cream Ice, it was cake. He unravels you from his arms and nods, his eyes softening.

"Request my service tomorrow, from Ms.Kang. She's been sweet on me lately." You peck his cheek before stepping back. Your rouge has embarrassingly stained His Grace's cheek.

Jungkook bows and presses a kiss on your hand, eyes rising to meet yours. "Til' morrow, babe."

Jiyoo shakes you awake the next morning, handing you a cake and a note that reads: "Prince Jungkook has a commission he must discuss with you. Meet him at his chamber immediately."

Lacing on a simple corset over your nightgown, you try not to look too red in the face as you climb up the stairs to His Majesty's room. You'd be up there alone, as requested. The girls would absolutely start rumors based on that alone-- rumors which you realize are probably totally true. This was stuff of scandal, after all...

'There shouldn't be anything scandalous about love.' You decide as you rap on His Highness' door.

"Please enter...but only if you have my cake!" Jungkook says in his morning voice. He's so cute.

The simplicity of Jungkook's abode takes you by surprise. His bedroom is very well lit, a capital display of the flowered valley through his bay windows washed the room in gold, painting his porcelain white carpets and his cotton sheets a warm creme color. His drawers and vanity were etched in gold, with breathtaking detailing.

The Monarch himself was splayed across the bed, laying on his side casually. He held a glass in his hand, holding a white wine. He puts down his glass and sits up as your presence.

"We both know that you didn't come here as my servant." You lock the door behind you. "And I have no such commission to give you, darling." The innocence which undertones his usual speech is missing as he coaxes you towards him.

"This much I know, Your Majesty," You say, taking a bit of frosting on your index finger and smudging it on the Princes lips. His black eyes, as cunning as a viper, watch you dangerously as you push two fingers past his plush lips. He wraps his hands around your wrist and draws your hand away, his gaze fixating on you.

"Set the cake down." At his command, you carefully place the confection down on a nearby chest, feeling Jungkook's eyes on you, drawing you back towards his grip.

"Let me pull your laces apart," with your waist held by his Herculean hand, he hums "and then let me pull you apart. I want to memorize your pleasures and gratify your desires, I need it, y/n..." Your back flush against his chest and your thighs split, his hands knead into you as he litters your collar with his mark.

You gasp softly against the crook of his neck, giving into his hold of you. His hot tongue spreads under your jaw, closing into a hard kiss as his hands travel back up to undo your corset and free your tits.

One by one, his fingers pop open the buttons left on your gown until the collar hangs off-shoulder to expose your collarbone. At the sight of new skin, Jungkook's tongue darts to stain it.

His hands stagger above your breasts. "Is it okay if I touch you here?"

"Oh, Kookie, touch me everywhere~" Your hands form fists around Jungkook's shirt, beckoning him impossibly closer.

Grasping one ever so carefully, his thumb grazes your bud as he playfully bites under your ear. "ah-- ahh,"

Jungkook groans in response, he can't believe how cute you sound. Curious, he wants to hear more, so he traces your thighs and experimentally pushes up the outside your cunt.

You squirm, tensing up immediately in response. You bring your hands down to find the latch on his trousers and dip your hands below to rub him through his undergarments. He heatedly bucks up to meet your touch, a panting mess.

You face him now as he watches you ride his fingers while you grip his girth through his clothes. He takes you by the ass and places you on his prominent bulge, hips rolling into you as he hungrily kisses you, his firm hands grinding your core on his cock.

His face is a sinful red, panting under you desperately.

"I've been wanting to do this," His voice warbles through your touch, running your thumb along his underside. It's his turn to gasp. He sits up and collapses his lips into yours, softer than rose petals and his taste faintly like wine.

You place your hand on his chest, and his heart is pounding, a thin layer of sweat already forming on his honeylike complexion.

Hastily, you pull your dress over your head and lean back to allow him to familiarize himself with your stark form, a dainty chain hanging between your bosom. Jungkook bites his lips as he wriggles out of his clothing, desposing of it beside the bed.

He's giddy behind those sultry eyes, you know him well enough that he's overexcited to get inside of you. It goes straight to his cock, your playfulness as you feel up his bare shoulders and discover his abdominals, your fingers tracing his ridges with a sense of innocent wonder.

He takes your hands and looks at you in this way-- Butterflies fill your stomach instantly. Jungkook's thumbing at your pout with his intrepid fingers.

His eyes flutter when grip his base and submerge your upper body below his hips. You lick a long, thick stripe up his underside, causing his breath to hitch and his head to fall back on to the bed.

Those goddamn cupid's bow lips of his would whisper the dirtiest things under his breath, lewd thoughts that sounded completely alien coming from His Majesty's mouth, he said for you.

"Oh, such a pretty mouth~ It's so good, y/n, you swallow me so good--" he moaned like a mantra, trying to keep his hips from snapping up into you. Your hot, wet tongue wrapped around his throbbing cock was only a fantasy to him for years.

He fills your throat with his girth, his taste tantalizingly smooth. It leaves your mouth with a 'pop.' You struggle to keep your legs apart as you crawl up to kiss him.

He takes those fingers of his and slides his index and middle into you and languidly thrusts them, smirking against your lips. "Shit, you liked that, hmm..."

"Kookie...please," you whine as he squeezes your ass hard before smacking it. You yelp, the sting of his fingers radiating from your skin.

"I like it when you beg, y/n, it's so cute..." He pulls your ass up to his thighs. He's flush hard against your abdomen, already sticky with his precum and your spit. You marvel at the self control he has.

You don't finish your thought before he has his head inside of you, impaling you on his cock and stretching your entrance, hissing at how incredible it felt to have you around him.

His shaft reached pleasure points within you had yet to discover. You clench, feeling his tip brush against your cervix. "Wh... hngh," he groans, "how did you do that, do it again--" You wrap your legs around his thighs and clench around him, biting your lip. You watch as he shivers from pleasure, feeling his skin horripilate under your touch.

His thumb is softly circling above your clit as he pulls out of you carefully. He swirls back in, nestling himself inside your heat, hissing. "Ahh~ Jungkook~!" At the sound of his first name moaned out of your mouth, he groans and rolls his hips up to create messy friction. That familiar knot in your stomach tingles as he plays with the bundle of nerves buried within you.

He glances up at your ruined lips, clashing with them again as he lifts your knees up with his hands and thrusts nice and rough, making you yell with every jolt of his cock. The smell and sound of sex fills the room as he experiments with positions, laying you on all fours.

"Get your ass up for me." You obey, ever servile. You're reminded-- you're his servant. He owns your work, he owns your services, and now he wants you in the most lucrative way, he wants your soaked cunt around his imperial cock. He gets what he wants.

Jungkook's palms smack against your ass one more time, just to watch the way it jiggles for him. He smirks a little before he shoves himself into your pretty little cunt. You bury your face into the pillows in pelasure as he chases your orgasm with vigor, fingering your clitoris while you move your hips back to meet his hard thrusts.

You whine like a harlot, his cock allowing you every satisfaction as he works a head-spinning orgasm out of that cunt. "I'm gonna cum, Kookie~!" you warn as you spasm against his length, moans ripping from your throat as you coat him with your thick juices.

His hips stutter up and he just barely pulls himself completely from you as he paints your back white, a guttural groan escaping his mouth.

After a while of loud panting and scattered giggling, Jungkook reaches over for a wet cloth and cleans the both of you gingerly. You trail your hands up to caress his jaw and kiss his lips softly.

"You need to tell everyone that I had a long and extensive request for the Harvest party, that I wanted a lot of fall fruits and vegetables featured in the baked goods, make it as specific as possible and make sure that you mention that I want to meet with you again, over dinner." His labored breathing punctuate his words, as youd kisses consume him. "And..."

"And?" You cock an eyebrow, simpering.

"Doyouthinkmaybeyoucouldbringmesomemilktogowithmycake?" He mumbles, eyes glued on the bed.

"What?" (If you give a Kookie a Cookie...)

Disgruntled, he sighs and repeats: "Milk! Milk for my cake. I know it's moist cause you made it but I'm really thirsty, especially after..." His cheeks flush a cute pink. You wait for him to continue just to fluster him a little more. "Y/N, just please!" You can't ever refuse his pouty face.

Next week, Jungkook's got you pinned against the hallway wall, making out with you hungrily as his hands ride up your dress. Just across the hall, his Dad is negotiating war with Portugal over land in the West.

The next month, you have his cock buried in your throat underneath the table at an important conference about how to create jobs.

All this while the pressure for Jungkook to find a bride continues to rise as he reaches seniority, and as his father's grey hairs pronounce themselves.

Warm touches are always hidden away to the public eye, but often shared between two kindred spirits underneath the man in the moon's watchful eye. Jungkook, as he reaches his maturity, grows strong. His jaw sharpens, and his eyes darken. His hair grows long, and he gains weight. Now at the proud age of 20, Jungkook had become a man before everyone's eyes, including the eyes of foreign monarchs and their eligible bachelorettes.

One day, you're serving the Royal family at a private dinner, when the topic of marriage comes up for the first time since his birthday.

"Your mother has made friends with the mother of the Austrian Princess, and she's invited you to the cordial ball to introduce yourself to the Princess. An allyship with Austria would prove advantageous for our relations with France, so you are to make your best impression." The King wipes his mouth. Setting his fork down, he continues: "It is in the family's best interest for you to marry her, if the French Princess, Anastasie, does not present this season or the next." The Queen holds the King's hand firmly, reassuring him from his shoulder. She wears a slight frown on her face, her eyes worrisome, somber. The King hides his anxiety, as he's been accustomed to from decades of responsibility. Would this be the face of Jungkook soon?

For now, Jungkook's face is scrunching at the thought of marrying Anastasie. She's not the most delightful young woman, her imprudence ruined her enjoyment of any event. She couldn't keep an intuitive conversation about regional politics and domestic policy for the life of her. Her people were on the brink of overthrowing the aristocracy, he was sure of it.

"Yes, father," is what you hear from him before you disappear down the stairs to fetch desserts.

Jiyoo interrupts your quest for sweets with a letter, signed by His Grace. She has a naturally innocent demeanor, her cheeks rosy and her frame as delicate as a feather. "Y/N, you have another special request from His Majesty...can I ask you why you get so many of these?" She looks genuinely curious, not a single menacing thought behind those eyes.

"It's because the Prince really really loves his cake." I mean, technically it was true. Jungkook never passed up an opportunity to squeeze, smack, or dig his fingernails into your ass during your sessions.

"Oh." Jiyoo pouts. "So it's not because you're like, in love or anything?" Her eyes are glued to the floor. You were expecting this question eventually, as the other girls in the kitchen were already suspecting it. It was only a matter of time before word slipped into the girl's ears.

"As much as I enjoy the Prince's interest in my baking, it isn't my place to confess any sort of feeling for him." Your answer is straightforward enough, so Jiyoo nods and hands you the letter. Another request.

Outside the Palace, Winter came like the wind. Lakes froze over, and couples tied up their skates and danced on the ice. The trees were bare and brown, not a single leaf persisting through the chilling breath of Jack Frost.

Jungkook had left for the Winter Palace, to volunteer and raise spirits up in the North. As heir to the throne, he was to be Commander in Chief of the Royal Armed Forces, and therefore needed to undergo intensive training in order to boost morale.

You're back home, and in your wake is your father, who has now grown tangibly tired. He's been on a strict diet of warm vegetable soup for about three months, now. His eyes are sunken, but he still wears a subtle smile even during his most trying days.

Match girls make their rounds at night, you watch as the lamplighters illuminate the streets with their tall ladders and their taller peacoats. Shop windows glow warm shades of yellow and creme; inscriptions on the glass create shadows on the white snow.

"Wow. It's almost as cold as the King's heart out here." You step outside one day with a cup of tea, sneaking in a cheeky smirk. Yeah, good one.

"I heard that!" You turn towards the little voice. A child, maybe about 9 or 10 years old is pointing at you. You squint at it.

"Well, it's true..." You mumble. You have a bit of change in your pocket, so you walk towards a stand to buy a hot bun and a paper.

"Chilly today, hon...Best you take this on the house." The tenant hands you a steaming cake wrapped in a simple cloth and your paper. You stick the paper in your dress pocket and take back your change. You nod a 'thank you.'

You spill the contents of your pockets on the dining table and snatch the paper, snapping it open. Your eyes eagerly skim the headline: "Prince Jungkook Fires Up Royal Army." Below is an article detailing the happenings of His Majesty. All of it sounded very intense, the running, strategizing, first aid training...Was there anything Prince Jeon couldn't nail on the first try?

You set the paper down and pick up your now lukewarm tea. In the back of your mind you're coping with the fact that the Spring Solstice is next week, and that marks the beginning of Jungkook's last season as a Prince.

The King is ill with tuberculosis, and recovery is unlikely. If Jungkook is to marry, it is next season and that was final.

Sitting at the window of his Winter Castle study, Jungkook plays with a ring nestled between his fingers. He looks out onto the lake, as if he's trying to reach you with his gaze. His heart is tight knowing that it would be the season he chooses his bride. Actually, he'd already made up his mind long ago. If his duty was to marry, there was no way to evade such a responsibility. He had to fulfill it, despite his anxieties.

He straightens up and walks out of the hollow room with a firm step.

You awaken with the sound of horse's hooves thudding against the Earth. It is yet to be dawn, and in the distance, thunder roars mightily.

A figure wearing a long, black hood hoists itself off of the animal, tying it to a nearby post. It walks towards an obscure entrance, unknown to many staff.

Intrigued, you wrap a blanket around yourself and peek out at the stranger. His fingers are shorter than his palms, and that's when he tosses of his hood, his eyes set on you. "Y/N..."

You're bewildered by his guise, questions filling your head.

"I was horny, so I left camp" He sits down at the counter, catapulting a cookie into his mouth.

You roll your eyes. "And the guards let you?! Jungkook!" You whisper-yelled at him, readjusting your makeshift blanket-dress.

"Obviously not!" He puffed out his chest with pride. "I bribed them," he smirks.

"You're insufferable," you scoff, your eyes wandering down to observe his physique. His shirt is anything but conservative, highlighting the muscle he'd earned through laborious, sweat-inducing drills. You can feel his eyes on your face as you observe him.

"You can't hide it either," he crosses his arms. "You're standing in the kitchen with a blanket around your naked body." He flicks his tongue. He steps forward, putting a finger under your jaw so you're looking him in the eye.

Your eyes fill with lust as he speaks over your lips. "Look at yourself..." A crash is heard in the other room.

Jungkook's head darts up and in a flash, he disappears into the night.

'Fuck.' You gather your dress from the floor and shuffle back to your chamber.

The first event of the season commences with the most exaltant of spirits as friends of old greet each other with youthful smiles. Juicy exposés, enticing tales, and thoughtful greetings are exchanged in the most formal manner, and the conversation is lively; the most controversial topic of conversation, however, is the rumor that Jungkook is to marry this season.

So far, he's been to four different private residences within his own Kingdom and has been invited, by the secretary of King Louis XVII to meet their daughter. It would be an understatement to say that stakes were high for the pending King.

You were kneading your dough a little too hard thinking about it. "Not so rough, y/n!" Ms.Kang snatches the mixture from your hands. "What is up with you lately, you're so tense! It's really disrupting the kitchen's dynamic."

You shrug it off. "It's going to be hard sedating Anastasie's sweet tooth, I suppose."

"Well, you seem to be doing just fine dealing with Jungkook's addiction to cakes...She's perfect for him, really." Ms.Kang throws more flour on your kneading table and steps off. You give up on the dough, covering it with a cloth and letting it rise.

Jungkook is tapping his feet, munching on finger sandwiches as he waits on you to make an appearance.

"Dearest Prince, look, I am wearing Mediterranean violet!" A duchess shouts as she passes by him, to which he raises his eyebrows at. Another, with dark green eyes approaches and begins speaking rapidly in French at him. Frightened and undereducated, his canned response was: "Excusez-moi, Pouvez-vous répéter plus lentement s'il vous plaît," to which the duchess furrows her eyebrows before something else catches her attention, elsewhere.

Truth is, Jungkook is incredibly shaken at the thought of announcing his engagement tonight. Well, that and the fact that you had yet to pop out of the kitchen. Man, those finger sandwiches were good.

As the night progresses, Jungkook realizes that if he doesn't get up on that platform and say what he needed to say, he'd have to say it in London. Setting his fears aside, he plants himself on top of the orchestral stage and taps a champagne glass with a cheese fork. The music comes to a stop.

With conviction, he begins: "The time has come that I announce my engagement. To all of my beloved friends, who have introduced me to the most beautiful, talented, diverse, and benevolent ladies I've come to get to know over the years, I thank you from the depths of my soul." He swallows and continues, his confident voice masking his trembling. "The life of a Prince is defined by the virtues presented to him at birth. Those virtues are: duty, responsibility, grace, kindness, mercy and integrity." Here comes the part, oh shit.

"I am abdicating my throne to my Cousin, the Duke of Namseong."

Silence sweeps the room. You poke your head out to see what was going on.

"...to marry the love of my life, y/n." He points at you. Your face is cherry red, and you find yourself dropping those same Danish fucking pastries all over the carpet.

"Shit," you fall on your knees, plucking them from the ground one by one. You don't know whether to run as fast as you can or to present yourself, but your body seems to be currently doing the latter. You go along with it.

Jungkook takes your hand tenderly on the stage. "I am unable to perform my duties as King, and therefore am ineligible for the throne." His touch gives you the will to continue beside him. You feel the pure fear rushing through your love's veins, and he knows that this is the hardest thing he'll ever have to do, yet he stands by his announcement.

So, if Jungkook doesn't get to be King of this World, he at least will forever be the King of Your Heart.

But all this, of course...is all in Your, dear reader, Head.

a/n:

hope you enjoyed.

572 notes · View notes

ja3hwa · 3 years

Text

Jongho || Not As Innocent

Word count: 1.7k

Genre: Smut

Warnings: Making out, A lot of swearing, Bite marks, Scratch marks, Dirty talk, Dom Jongho, Sub Fem Reader, Riding, Eating out, If I missed something let me know.

Notes: I think this is the longest fic I've done and I wasn't planning on it being long but oh well ahah.

Hotness. The need for touch so unbearable it could hurt. The thought of your boyfriend slips in and out of your mind. His touch, his breath against your hot skin. Oh, how you ache for him. His lips, his body, his deep beautiful eyes. The perfectness, gentleness, his love.

"Argh," You sigh out flicking your hands in a huff onto the soft mattress. You feel so lonely. You said to the boys you wanted to retire to bed because you were tired. Even though you all were on holiday at the beach house, the day was filled with excitement and so much sun, leaving you exhausted from the heat.

But ever since you headed up to the room all you could do was stare at the plan ceiling. The boys are most likely still awake, given San and Wooyoung were determined to get late-night take out, even though it's almost twelve in the morning.

Tossing and turning you try your hardest to sleep. The soft pillows and comforter suddenly feeling hard and no longer pleasing. Huffing again, the thought of your boyfriend hits you.

Out of all times, now?

You thought, annoyed at yourself. Finally getting out of the bed, grabbing your shirt that you threw off earlier and pants following. You put them back on so you were no longer in your underwear.

Seeing all the boys outside, relaxing in the summer breeze. Drinks and food all over the table, as they enjoy themselves finally getting a break from promotions. You open the glass sliding door stepping outside quickly. The boys all eyed you suddenly at you appearance, having their few words slipping out with chuckles.

"Oh look who's still awake."

"Did you sleep already?"

"Couldnt stay away from us could you."

You chuckle at there remarks, never cessing to amaze how cheeky they could be. You move swiftly to the back of Jongho's chair, snaking your arms around his neck laying you palms on his chest. Noting Wooyoungs goofy 'eww' comment, you whisper into Jonhgo's ear.

You want to be sexy, blunt even. Not something you're used to, cause let's face it you would be considered the shyest person ever. You can't even order food without mildly panicking. But this time you wanted to be confident.

"Baby, If you don't come and fuck me right now, I might go crazy." You almost moan out into his ear, feeling heat rush through your body. The drink Jongho was drinking quickly came back up at the sound of your sweet voice in his ear, choking out. He leans forward, letting you slip away from him before walking back inside with a simple 'night boys' pursuing.

"You okay there Jongho?" Yunho pats the poor maknae's back while he cough's up a 'yes'. He has never seen you act like this. You were not one to usually to ask for sex or anything in that matter. But now, all he could think of was what you said was really hot.

"What was that about?" Mingi asks.

"Yeah, what did she say that made you choke?" Wooyoung laughed.

Jongho finally managed to stop coughing, taking a sigh of relief. He looks up to see all his members waiting for an answer.

"Uh, I..uh. I'm just gonna go." Jongho suddenly jumps up, giving a fake stretch.

"You know long day, kinda tired..." His voice trailed off. All the boys give eyeing stares at each other, realising the situation that is now occurring.

"Well stay safe." Hongjoong laughs.

"Treat her well." San follows.

"Don't break anything!" Mingi yells.

"Hey, Use protection." Seonghwa bites.

Jongho sighs, feeling his face red and hot from embarrassment. Heading off towards his bedroom where you await for him.

'okay okay okay okay. Chill everything is fine. You just happened to ask your boyfriend to fuck you in front of all his friends. Oh god, what if they heard me!!!'

You flop onto the bed, mildly screaming at yourself into the pillow. Rolling over to look up at the ceiling.

"Stupid! Stupid! Stupid."

"Honey?" You hear a faint voice followed by the door opening with a creek. You sit up to see Jongho inching inside the room, quickly closing the door, locking it in the process.

"What was that all about." He asks crawling onto the bed towards you. You sit up, leaning against the headboard."

"I- Uh. I couldn't sleep. all I could think about was you and your--" You stop mid-sentence stuttering like crazy, beginning to feel flustered.

"Mhm, it's okay honeybun. Tell me what you want." He smirks pulling you by the thighs towards him, so he can perfect wrap your legs around him while hovering over you.

"I want you..." You whisper.

"I'm sorry what was that?" He chuckles leaning down to kiss you on the cheek. You laugh, hitting his chest lightly, knowing very well he is teasing.

"I want you to fuck me Jongho...Please." You beg for him. He smiles in contentment, ripping your shirt off along with his in a split second. He wastes no time pressing his body against you, connecting your lips, and grinding on you. He fumbles around taking his sweats off, before yanking your shorts off with giggles echoing throughout the room.

"I never thought you'd be such a naughty type baby. It's fucking sexy," he growled between sloppy kisses. Unclasping your bra, while nibbling your lob.

"Whispering in my ear..." He slips your panties down slowly.

"Begging for me to fuck you while my friends are around." He groans, biting your hot flesh on your neck. You let out a whimper, holding his shoulders tightly.

"Tell me what does my precious baby want," He smirks, locking his eyes with you. You take a gulp, your grip becoming tighter on his large shoulders.

"Jongie..." You slide your hands down his chest, feeling every curve and angle of his body. Pushing him lightly, indicating you wanted to sit up. He follows. You flip him slightly so you can sit on his lap. His hands place themselves on your thighs, his thumbs softly kneading your flesh.

"I want..." You bit your lip, leaning to his ear.

"I want to ride you so badly." You moan out, try your best not to retreat into his shoulder. He grabs your chin pulling you to look at him again, his slightly stunned expression quickly changes to a big smirk, griping your hips tighter.

"Anything for you baby girl." He pulls his boxers off while leaning over to the nightstand, grabbing a condom. He places the packet into your mouth while biting his lip. You look at him in confusion as he leads you down onto your back.

"Hold it there, first we gotta get you ready." He kisses your nose, lifting your thighs over his shoulders. His lips come in contact with your ankles. You moan trying your best to keep the condom in your mouth, while he bites your inner thighs getting closer to your heat.

"Jong..." You mumble, his lips finally connecting to where you need him most. He flattens his tongue taking a long strip of wetness up your slit. He sucks on your clit while one finger enters your hole.

"Jong-ahh. Please." You drop the condom out of your mouth, letting out a gasp, gripping his hair, tugging tightly. He puts another finger inside you while sitting up to look at your scrunched nose and crossed brows. He pulls out of you, heading against the headboard. You let out a whimper at the sudden loss of contact, moving up to sit on your elbows.

"Well come on baby, I'm waiting," He smirks, patting his thighs. You gulp picking up the condom and breaking it out of the packaging. You feel yourself shaking, you've never ridden him before and now here you were, sliding a condom on your strong boyfriend about to ruin yourself on his cock.

"You okay?" Sensing your nervousness, he moves a piece of hair out of your face, gently smiling at you. You nod your head with an 'I'm okay' following.

"I want to do this. I want to show you..." You line yourself up with him, slowly letting his tip, then the rest of him enter.

"I'm not as innocent as you think." You grind down making you both groan out. You start to bouncing, keeping strong movements with your hips.

"Fuck." He groans, whipping his head back, his left hand gripping your ass while the other comes up to the small of your back.

"Damn you look so sexy riding me, honey." He thrusts his hips up to meet your bouncing, causing you to let out choked moans. You almost lost your balance, falling forward onto his chest, gripping his shoulders.

"Jong, Jong... Ah, Jong." You slip his name on repeat as he thrusts up into you, spreading your cheeks, slapping them. Causing you to scream out.

"Let's switch things up." He nips at your ear, throwing you onto your back, slamming back into you, biting your neck roughly.

"AH Fuck!" You scream, gripping his back hard scratching your nails down his back, sinking into his flesh, drawing small amounts of blood.

"Fucck." He swears, his hips stuttering getting close to his own high.

"Jongh-I'm gon-ahh." You choked out, head going dizzy, body filling with heat as your high finally snaps. Kissing him you moan into his mouth as you both climax together. He slows his thrust down, kissing you slow and soft.

"You are so beautiful." He kisses your cheek, then your jaw, then your neck, to your collar bone. You finally both pull away to clean yourselves up. Pulling a clean pair of panties and one of Jongho's shirts you slip under the covers.

Jongho soon comes out of the bathroom in sweats, still slightly panting from the event that was just unfolded. He smiles climbing into the bed nuzzling his head into your neck.

"You should be wild more often that was amazing." He chuckles.

"Oh shit." He sat up quickly looking over the side tables.

"I left my phone outside, I don't want the boys seeing those beautiful lingerie photos I took of you." He wiggles his eyebrows.

"Wait you still have those?" You blush.

"Of course, that was an amazing night. I'll be back." He hops off the bed, walking out without thinking of putting a shirt on.

"Hey guys, have you seen my phone?" Jongho opens the glass door seeing all the other males still chatting away.

"Here." Yeosang picks up the phone from the counter handing it to him.

"So did you treat her well?" San teases. They all let out small laughs. Jongho rolls his eyes at them, turning around to leave.

"Wooah you must have treated her really well, damn!!" Wooyoung screams.

"Shut up." He shakes his head leaving as soon as he can. All that was heard was heard are laughter and chuckles and any form of teasing statement fading into a distance.

"Fuck does your back hurt?" Jongho touches his back confused then recalls back to moments ago.

Yeah, Jongho was never going to live that one down.

Tag List: @yunhofingers @softforqiankun @violetwinters @kpopmademygradesgodown @lmhmh01

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idy-ll-ique · 3 years

Text

A Day Well-Spent

Pairing: Mob Boss!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Genre: It's like... fluff to the extreme

Warnings: mention of guns

Requested: nope

Summary: Y/N has just moved to Brooklyn and doesn't know how things are there. Bucky Barnes runs things around Brooklyn but what happens when they meet? Will she run away or will she still shoot her shot?

Author's Note: Hiya peeps! Okay, first of all, THANK YOU FOR 500 FOLLOWERS I CANNOT STRESS THIS ENOUGH I LOVE Y'ALL SO MUCH. also i think im obsessed with mob fics????? chile anyways so... enjoy!

---

"Ready to go, sweetie?"

"You know it, babe," Y/N grinned at her friend, Clarice. The two, on their way to work, had stopped by a coffee shop for their daily dose of caffeine. As they walked out of the café, Clarice turned to Y/N. "Finish your story! What did Brad say to you after that?!" Clarice reminded her and Y/N giggled.

"Oh, he was just too sweet! But not my type, ya know what I mean? I didn't know how to turn him down," she sighed. "Poor guy. If he had approached me…" Y/N lightly shoved her friend. "I have his number, should I pass it on?" Clarice turned to Y/N, wide eyed. "Darling, you're too good to me," she spoke with a strong Brooklyn accent.

Y/N burst out laughing. She had moved from another part of the country to Brooklyn for education; along with attending college, she was also working as a waitress at a nice little restaurant. That was how she met Clarice, her being another waitress at said restaurant. The two became fast friends.

Clarice was a few years older than Y/N, a single mother with a 4 year old son. Her son was extremely cute. As Y/N continued laughing, she didn't notice how her friend stopped in her tracks. Clarice was busy staring at the huge hunk of a man a few feet ahead of Y/N, standing in the middle of the pavement with his phone held to his ear, his back to them.

Bucky Barnes.

That man was James Buchanan Barnes, the King of Brooklyn. He ran the whole damn city along with his mob; very important and influential. On top of that? He was hot-headed, easily got angry and people knew what happened when he got angry. Except Y/N. Y/N didn't even know who he was.

As Y/N neared Bucky, still laughing for some reason, Clarice thought of calling out to her. And alert him of their presence? No way! "Clarice, you know I love it when you do your acc—" All of a sudden, Y/N collided into a soft wall, spilling her coffee all over it. Opening her eyes, she found out that it was no wall; instead, she had collided straight into a person.

And drenched his back with coffee.

He was wearing what looked like a very expensive suit and Y/N immediately felt guilty. "Oh my goodness, I'm so fucking sorry!" she blurted out as Bucky pulled the phone away from his ear, turning to look at her. His men, who were loitering around, had her surrounded as they pointed their guns at her. But she didn't notice.

She was busy staring at Bucky, her jaw slightly dropped. Hot damn, he is good looking, she thought to herself. It wasn't until he cleared his throat that she snapped out of a daydream. He had a stern expression on his face and she realized she messed up. He's someone important. Then she started apologizing profusely.

Bucky simply stared at her, taking in her features as he gave her a once-over. She's new, he realized, not from Brooklyn. "Hey, hey, hey, it's okay," he chuckled and she immediately shut up, offering him a timid smile. "I really am sorry, I feel like a total ass. That suit looks expensive, sir, is there any way I can help? Maybe pay for dry cleaning?"

"Do you know who I am?" he instead asked and her brows furrowed. "Oh Lord, am I supposed to know?! One mess up after another…" she grumbled and Bucky couldn't help but laugh. "Don't worry. My name is Bucky Barnes, you may call me Bucky." At this point, even his men were surprised, lowering their guns.

Clarice was still standing there and one of the men caught her eye. He nodded his head towards Y/N and Clarice gave him an unsure smile. He sauntered over to her. "She's with you?" he asked and Clarice groaned, dropping her head. "She's new to Brooklyn, and has no idea who he is. I'm so sorry for the inconvenience."

The man smiled at her. "No worries, looks like the boss isn't gonna hurt her. I'm Sam, by the way." Clarice gave him a shy smile. Sam was also very good-looking. "I'm Clarice, nice to meet you." Better to remain on the good side of the mob. Back to Y/N and Bucky… "Bucky, that's a good name. Short for anything?"

He ran a hand through his hair, grinning. It had been years, years since someone outside of the mob had spoken to him so freely and without fear. It felt nice and refreshing, even more so because Y/N was super gorgeous. "James Buchanan Barnes." Y/N couldn't help but laugh. "Named after a president, huh?"

"You making fun of my name now, doll?" he smirked slyly. "Oh no no, I wouldn't dare," she flirted easily, "My name is Y/N. I still feel bad about ruining your suit, you won't even take the money…" Bucky waved her off. "First, Y/N is a wonderful name. Second, you don't need to worry your pretty head over me, this suit can easily be replaced."

"Then how about this? A coffee. My treat. It'll make me feel better," she insisted. Bucky raised a quick brow, thinking that he would be the one to ask her out but oh well, this works too. "Let's call it a date, shall we?" he purred, taking a step closer to her. She didn't back off. "If you'd like," she grinned up at him.

He couldn't help but grin back. "Excellent. Then how about you put your number in my phone and I pick you up next Sunday at 7 pm?" He thrust his phone into her hand and Y/N swore she heard someone gasping in the background. Bucky Barnes was a very private person but here he was now; handing his phone to a stranger.

She quickly put her number in his phone and handed it back, smiling. "I'll await your call." He leaned in and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. "I have to go now, so I'll see you later. Say hello to your friend from my side. Sam! Stop flirting, man, we gotta go!" Y/N looked over her shoulder to see his friend flirting with Clarice.

She laughed and turned back to Bucky, who was already looking at her with a goofy grin on his face. "I'll see you next Sunday, Mr Barnes. Again, sorry for the suit!" He waved his arm in dismissal and got into the car, throwing her one last blowing kiss before zooming off. Y/N walked back to Clarice, who was staring at her, jaw dropped.

"I know the hell you didn't just do that."

"Did I do something wrong?" Y/N frowned. Then, all of a sudden, a wide grin bloomed on Clarice's face. "Do you even know who you're going to go on a date with next Sunday?!" Y/N blinked. "Is he someone important?" Clarice made a sound of indignation. "Important? Bitch, he's the Kingpin! The King of Brooklyn! A mob boss!"

Y/N's eyes went wide. "No way," she scoffed. "Yes way! Ask anyone! He runs things around here, babe. It was fun to see him all soft, though, he's kinda hot-headed and hard to impress. Even women stay away from him. And now you two are going on a date?! If this relationship does not end in a marriage I'm suing."

Y/N flushed slightly and punched Clarice on the shoulder. "Clair, we haven't even gone on one date." Clarice shrugged. "A girl can dream. Oh, your children will be the most beautiful! Did you see his right hand man, though?! Mamma mia! Said his name was Sam Wilson, I got his number!" The two reached their workplace.

Inside Bucky's car, he was still smiling, lost in thoughts. "So, that chick, huh," Sam spoke devilishly from the driver's seat. Bucky looked at him. "That's no way to talk about the future Mrs Barnes," he admonished and Sam chortled. "Dude, you haven't been on even one date! Slow down, chicks don't like dudes who plan out a marriage on the first date."

"But I know I'm right, so why shouldn't I plan?" Bucky shrugged. He was more than confident that Y/N was going to become his in the future. The way she looked at him, spoke to him, flirted with him… it was enough for him to become smitten with her at the first glance. "What about you and her friend, huh?"

It was Sam's turn to become flustered. "Clarice Light. Has a 4-year old son, Aaron." Bucky nodded thoughtfully. "A mother. Well-maintained looks," he commented, laughing when Sam punched him on the shoulder. "Why don't you think about your own chick and leave mine alone?"

---

Y/N frantically smoothed out her dress, checking herself in the mirror. She wore a beautiful, nude coloured bandage dress that reached mid-thigh, along with similar coloured heels. Bucky was coming to pick her up in 5 minutes. Even after finding out who he was she didn't back away, instead finding it empowering that the most important man in Brooklyn wanted to take her out on a date.

All of a sudden the bell rang, pulling Y/N out of her thoughts. The first thing she saw upon opening the door was a huge bouquet of red roses right in front of someone's face. He then moved the bouquet to reveal his face and Y/N smiled broadly. "Bucky!" He grinned back at her. "Hi, doll! Here, an extraordinary bouquet for an equally extraordinary woman."

"You're too flattering. These roses smell amazing, thank you so much." She took the bouquet from his hands and kept it away, stepping out of the house. Bucky offered her his hand and she took it, allowing him to lead her out of the building and towards an audacious, ridiculously expensive looking car.

"Everything about you is lavish, huh?" she teased as he ushered her into the passenger seat, sitting next to her. "Bad to have a taste for the finer things in life?" he teased right back, placing his hand on her thigh as the other gripped the steering wheel. "No, I mean, you are the Kingpin. I should expect luxury."

He glanced at her to see her grinning at him. "You found out?" She nodded. "Yup, Clarice told me as soon as you left. I don't mind though, I'm just wondering… why me?" He laughed. "Why you? Sweetheart, you are the first person aside from Sam who has talked to me so freely since… since I was 18. And you're gorgeous. So why not?"

"Again, with the flattery…"

"Just stating facts, my dear."

"Also, my friend has a crush on Sam, so do tell him to ask her out." Bucky laughed harder. It had been years since he'd enjoyed himself so much. "Really? He has a crush on her too! I guess I'll tell him tomorrow." Y/N looked out of the window. "Where are we going?" Bucky gently squeezed her thigh. It was clear he wasn't taking her to a café, like originally planned.

"A picnic in the park." Y/N's eyes lit up. "I love picnics!" she squealed. "Then I guess I made a good choice," Bucky chortled along. The two soon reached the park and Bucky got out of the car first, holding the door open for Y/N to step out. "A gentleman," she noted, making him grin. He then took out the picnic basket from the backseat.

Y/N laid out the classic pink and white checkered blanket that he had brought along, taking off her heels before sitting down. "Ugh, I'd have worn pants if I knew I was going to be sitting on the ground," she groaned as she somehow sat down, adjusting her dress.

"You look gorgeous in that dress though," Bucky commented, "But you don't need to worry about public indecency because it's just you and me in the park." Y/N blinked at him as he sat down, opening the basket and taking out food. "Just us? You booked the whole park?" Bucky smirked at her. "It's easy when you run things around here."

Y/N fondly shook her head. "So much effort." He winked at her. "All for you, doll, all for you." The two maintained a chat as they ate. "So, you're new here. Why did you move to Brooklyn?" Bucky asked her. "Education. I go to [Name] college, actually, and work part-time as a waitress for some additional income," she hummed. He nodded thoughtfully.

"What about you? Is the mob a family business or a start-up?" Bucky smiled at her boldness. "Family business, my dad used to run it before me. I was 16 when I took over." Y/N realized what must've happened and gave him a sad smile. "I'm sorry for your loss." Bucky returned the smile. "It's fine, he was no saint."

"No?"

"Yup, hated him actually. Used to be cruel to my mom, to me too… until he got shot. Best day of my life." Y/N gasped quietly. "Bucky! He was your father!" Bucky chuckled mercilessly. "An asshole is what he was. Geez, speaking of, my mom is gonna be so happy."

"What's her name?" Y/N took a bite of her sandwich. "Winifred. She's awesome, raised me and my sister alone, ya know? Dad was always too busy. My mom will like you, I can tell. And so will my sister." Y/N smiled at that. "A sister?" He nodded, excited to talk about his family.

"Rebecca Barnes. She's a few years younger than me, maybe your age. She goes to your college too." Y/N suddenly squealed. "You mean to tell me my best friend from college is your sister? Rebecca Barnes?!" Bucky smiled so wide he thought his cheeks were gonna tear. "You've met her?" Y/N vehemently nodded.

"She's really great, the only person kind enough to introduce herself on the first day I moved in. She was the one who showed me around campus and I found out that she mostly spent time alone because no one wanted to talk to her, her brother being involved with the bad side of law or something. But I didn't care. I still don't. She's awesome, you're awesome."

Bucky felt himself tear up at her words. "Doll, you have no idea how much that means to me." Y/N grinned at him, scooting sideways so she could lay her head on his shoulder. "I'm serious, you know. I can't wait to tell her about this." Bucky laughed in a watery tone, pressing his lips to her temple.

The two quietly ate after that. When the food was over both of them lay down on the blanket, looking up at the starry sky. "It's so beautiful," Y/N whispered, cuddling into Bucky's side as she stared at the gibbous moon. Bucky wrapped an arm around her and pulled her closer to him.

"It's nothing compared to you."

Y/N laughed quietly and looked up, the same time he looked down. They met each other halfway; their lips connecting softly yet eagerly. Lost in the kiss Bucky sat up, pulling Y/N on his lap as they continued making out. Finally, after what felt like hours did they pull away, breathless. They said nothing; Bucky looked at her as if she hung the moon.

Y/N stared at him as if he were the only thing in the world. "So, when will I get a second date?" she broke the silence, leaning down to press her forehead to his. "Oh, doll, you're not getting rid of me any time soon," he shot back, laughing. Y/N giggled along and stood up.

Both of them packed their things and got into the car, Bucky offering to drive her home since it was late. So I guess it had been hours. As Bucky drove, Y/N's phone chimed. He glanced at her when she laughed. "What's so funny?" Y/N wheezed before answering.

"I've got two texts. One from Becca and one from Clarice."

Bucky couldn't stop his chuckle. "What did Becca say?" Y/N read out, "Girl, just heard you're on a date with my bro? And I— I swear if you don't become my sister in law, I'm suing." Laughter filled the car. "She really said that?" Y/N nodded. "Yup! Even Clarice, on the day we met, said the same thing! It's nuts. We just met and they're already planning a wedding."

"Speaking of, what was Clarice's message?"

"Oh nothing, just that she got back home from a date with Sam a few minutes ago."

"What?!"

"What's wrong with that?"

"That asshole had work today!"

"Bucky!"

All in all, it was a day well-spent.

---

A/N: Thanks for reading! Leave a like if you enjoyed!

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x female reader #james buchanan barnes #bucky barnes fluff #winter soldier #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x y/n #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan x female reader #sebastian stan characters #disney #mcu #marvel #avengers #fanfic #writing #writeblr

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allandoflimbo · 3 years

Text

Ashens (Part 23)

Summary: She falls in love with Bucky Barnes from the moment she sees him. Bucky, still in love with a woman from his past, hates Y/N and plans to make her life miserable. To both their dismay, they are assigned together to go undercover into The Capitol for six months. There, they develop a heartbreaking friend with benefits agreement. Dystopian.

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Chapter Word Count: 6,000

Rating: M for Mature, E for explicit. Enemies to lovers trope, sharing a bed trope, friends with benefits trope, temporarily unrequited love, heavy and angry sex, heavy on the angst, and very strong language.

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The world was on fire and no one could save me but you

It's strange what desire will make foolish people do

I never dreamed that I'd meet somebody like you

+ + +

“Don’t question acts of the daring and misinterpret it for insanity.

Simply thank the courages ones for their heart and strong character,

for not all are willing to do the good and get destroyed in the worst way,

not for their own benefit, but for others.”

+ + +

It starts in his fingers, a feeling of hot tingles and sporadic static. He plays with the condensation of the glass, gathering the wetness on the tips of his digits until they are completely numb from the cold. The hot tingles and static dissipate momentarily until they move up his arms and into the cavity where his heart beats.

It beats for the way you waltzed into the room, smelling like sweet strawberries and your shampoo.

It beats for the way it continues to ache and hope to feel your touch again.

If he’s quiet enough, he could hear it, too. It thumps away in his head, making his temples pulse and his palms sweat. He rubs the palm of his hand against the glass, too.

He looks up, dark eyes meeting your figure in your shared bedroom. Memories of the last few months fill his brain with a strong ripple of serotonin, gaze drifting towards the messy, fresh out the dryer, white sheets.

He’s feeling too much. It must be why he feels like he’s having a heart attack and why his mouth is insanely dry.

His eyes flicker back up to you again, and for a fraction of a second, he considers saying something.

Bucky doesn’t talk about his feelings much.

He always held it down.

He didn’t talk about how he felt when he watched his sister being taken from him, or when either of his parents died and he in result became an orphan.

Not much has changed since then, he thinks as he keeps looking at you.

You were moving around, unaware of his inner turmoil.

Bucky is fully convinced that no one on this earth detests him more than he detests himself. Not only does he hate himself for the things he’s done, but he can’t stand how he’s unable to talk about his feelings when he knows he needs to.

He can’t stand how weak he is and how he doesn’t have the guts to face it.

He’s watching you and he wants to speak up, but he can’t.

He detests himself for always running away from facing his demons.

This had a lot more to do than you going on a date. This was about everything. He knows there’s so much he needs to tell you.

He just wishes it were a lot simpler.

He doesn’t dare compare his issues to yours.

He knows each person has their own demons and their own complications to conquer, so he doesn’t dare compare. But, sometimes, he can’t help but think he is the world’s most horrible person, through no fault of his own.

Why couldn’t he have been stronger? Why couldn’t he have stopped himself from getting brainwashed? Why couldn’t he stop himself from doing all the things that he did?

Nobody knows what it’s like to live with the memories of being forced to train young girls who were taken from their families to fight for the KGB, one of them who later turns out being your friend. Not to mention then also shooting the same girl through the stomach on a bridge in Odessa. Nobody knows what it’s like to be forced to put a bullet between countless of innocent people’s eyes, some being young kids, cutting their innocent lives short.

Nobody understood what it was like to then be forced to kill someone’s parents, the same person who’s teams then welcomes you decades later into their home as family.

He experienced all of it without one goodbye to his blood family.

It doesn’t make sense to him how no one else could see what was going through his mind. Maybe he was messed up to the point where he could no longer be okay ever again.

Maybe.

But you, you had woken something inside of him that he thought had been long gone. You gave him a longing for communication, to talk about how he was feeling. For the first time in over half a century, because of you, he sees a potential light at the end of the tunnel.

You didn’t treat him like an ex assassin, a veteran, an avenger, or just a friend. You treated him like an imperfect man, taking him into your arms in spite of that.

Unbeknownst to you, you had taken his broken heart in your hands and held it tenderly, like a mother holding a newborn child. You taught it how to be happier, you taught it self forgiveness and preservation. You showed him how to be human, how to feel human desires that for so long he had held down.

He continues to watch you, swelling hard.

You showed me that it was okay. He thinks to himself.

You were his friend for much longer than you ever knew, and you had no idea.

He needed you more than you realized.

But you were right. It was time to let you be truly happy. After all, how could someone like him make you happy? You made it clear to him, time after time, that you’re both toxic together. He knows most of it was his fault, but he had changed. Unfortunately so had you and your feelings were just platonic now. It was a mess. Both of you, together, was a mess.

The amount of orgasms you shared don’t even make up for the hurt you’ve put each other through.

That’s what he needs to tell himself as he watches you from the living room, pulling the wool scarf tight around your neck to hide your tattoo, and tightening the lightweight white coat over your shoulders.

You were wearing a mid length dark red dress and short black heels. You looked great. The small smile your wore complemented you well, too. You looked happy.

Bucky knows he has no right to feel what he does as he watches you go back into the bathroom to touch up your hair.

It was a quarter past seven and the sun was setting. If this was two weeks ago, you two would probably be having sex right about now.

It had become routine after a certain point. He would probably have you bent over the sink, leaving finger indents on your hips.

Not anymore. That was over.

Ironically, it wasn’t even want he wanted to do with you as he watched you walk back in. He just wanted to grab you, run his hand through your hair and kiss your forehead.

The thought of wanting to do such a pure act catches him off guard and he feels a tightness in his chest grow hot. There was the static again in his fingers.

“I’ll be back in a few hours. We’re just going to have dinner at his place.” You say, slowly stepping into the lit living room.

Bucky’s on the sofa and you watch as his eyes leave yours to obviously linger down your body.

He clears his throat, reaching for the glass of water on the coffee table.

“Be safe.” He says softly.

You watch as he takes a sip of the water, his eyes meeting yours again over the glass. There’s a pull inside of you that wants you to ask him if he was okay.

“You’ll be okay here?”

He gives a curt nod, avoiding your eyes.

“I’ll be fine.” His tone is hard and straight to the point, but something was still clearly off with his behavior.

He’s been acting weird since a few days ago when you told him about Pietro.

You start playing with the sleeve of your coat, clearly stalling.

He had to open up to you.

“You have food?” You ask. The edge of Bucky’s lip perks up. You’re thankful for the almost smile.

“Yes.”

You watch him for a few more seconds. The mundane exchange is almost comical.

“I gave you his address, right? Just in case?”

Pretty blue eyes narrow at you curiously.

“Yes, I have it right there.” Bucky says, pointing over to the dining table below the blue A.I glow.

“Okay.” you say, nodding slowly, “Okay, I’ll see you later then.”

Bucky doesn’t say anything as you leave. He leans his elbows on each of his knees, bringing both his clasped hands together up to his chin.

He wants the static to go away. He wants to tell you everything.

He takes in a deep breath and runs a metal hand through his hair.

No, I wasn’t going to be okay without you here.

He picks up the control off the table and starts season nine of Friends.

It was going to be a long night.

+ + +

You were nervous. This was your first date.

Ever.

You also didn’t know what to expect from tonight. Sure, you liked Pietro. He was sweet, a good guy, and he was attractive. You wanted to give it a try. You were done being dragged down by one man that didn’t even love you the way you did.

It was time to move on.

Three soft knocks is how long it takes for the dark blue door of apartment 8C to swing open.

You’re immediately welcomed by the scent of something delicious and Pietro’s warm and bright smile.

“Hey, you.” He says with a delighted perk in his voice. He swings the door open wider for you to walk through, “Come in.”

Timidly, you walk into his inviting home.

The walls were beige and he had dark brown wooden floors. They were glossy instead of matte. To the left was a small kitchen with black cabinetry, and in front of you a small living room with a television and a black cotton couch.

You didn’t miss the hallway towards the far left the most likely led to a bedroom and bathroom.

Bedroom.

You feel your throat close up.

You were nervous.

“May I take your coat?” He asks sweetly, stretching out a hand to you. Your eyes go from his hand to his own eyes and his smile is contagious, “I’m just going to hang it in the closet. I won’t let it run away. Promise.”

You chuckle.

You give him a short nod, shrugging off your coat and handing it to him.

“Thank you.” You say.

There’s a small pause of silence.

“Wow, you look amazing.” He says quietly, taking in your dress. His eyes sparkled as he looked at you and you knew he was being sincere. You smile. “Do you want me to take your scarf, too?”

You instinctually reach for your scarf before pausing, your hands lingering on the fabric a bit longer than casual, “I’ll keep it,” your eyes meet and he squints at you, “It’s supposed to go with the dress.” You say quickly on your feet.

He tilts his head at you and chuckles.

“Okay. Well,” he looks down at his hand still holding your coat, “I’m just going to go hang this up. Feel free to to look around for a few seconds.”

You nod again, watching as he walks to a small closet towards the right, passed the tv.

You look over into the kitchen, and you see a neatly set table with two glass of wine.

There’s a pot on the stove with the lid on it, but the stove isn’t on.

You feel a warm and inviting hand on your upper back.

“I made, or should I say, I attempted,” he adds a chuckle that makes you smile, “to make some chicken parm.”

You giggle.

“I’m sure it’s delicious.”

You both walk over to the table which isn’t that far to the side and he pulls out one of the chairs for you. You thank him politely, taking a seat.

There’s the sharing of shy glances and awkward feet hitting each other under the table. You mutter out sorry’s.

Pietro clears his throat when he remembers he forgot the plates. You smile again as he apologizes and gets up.

“I’m the worst.” He says quickly.

“You’re not, relax. I forgot, too.” You play with the glass on the table, vividly remembering Bucky doing the same not too long ago.

You were picking up each others habits, hard.

“So, how’s it going with the whole situation at home? With your friend?”

You’re caught off guard by the indirect mention of Bucky and you try to casually grab the white napkin off the table, laying it over your lap.

“It’s going better.” You say, hoping it’ll make Pietro cut the topic short.You smooth the fabric over your legs, picking at it.

He looks over his shoulder to you and you can feel his eyes on you.

“Really? That’s good. I’m happy to hear that. I know it was rough for you. I hated seeing you like that.” That makes two of us, you want to say. There’s another pause. “You’re quiet today.” He notes, placing your plate in front of you. You’re hit with an intense wave of nausea as the delicious smell peaks up into your nose. You look away from the plate swallowing hard, “You okay?”

You clear your throat and swallow and swallow.

“Yeah I’m fine,” the bile lays in your belly as the smell continues to drive into your head, making you dizzy and sweat, “Do you have some water?” You croak out, trying to push your chair a little away from the table. It scrapes angrily against the floor, and if it wasn’t for how sick you were feeling, you would be apologizing.

“Yeah, yeah of course.” He says quickly, moving around the kitchen and fixing you a glass.

He hands it to you and you take some heavy gulps. It’s cold and slices through your throat. It lays into your stomach uncomfortably but you prefer it over a dry and heavy tongue.

You place it back down on the table, taking a deep breath. You feel the sweating start to dissipate and your stomach slowly settles.

You bring your palm to your head and quickly blink away.

You hated throwing up.

“Sorry, about that.”

He chuckles and gives you a smile as he takes his own seat across from you, “That’s okay. Are you sure you’re feeling alright?”

You weren’t too sure, but you don’t say that. “Yeah, I don’t know what that was,” you look back down at the plate that begins to look somewhat appetizing again, “Believe me, it wasn’t the food. This smells delicious and looks delicious.” He opens the glass the red wine and offers some to you. You quickly shake your head, giving him a wave of rejection with your hand. Just the thought of wine made your stomach turn again, “I’ll stick to the water for now.” He nods and pours himself a glass, “Sorry if I’m quiet. I’m a bit nervous.”

“Nervous why?”

You shrug, digging a fork into your chicken and swirling it around.

“I don’t know. I’m just like that.”

He says your name and you stop poking your fork to look up at him, “It’s me. We’ve been friends for a few months now. I’m not some stranger.”

You smile. He was right.

“I know, trust me. It’s just…” you think for a moment and then start laughing, “God, we’re literally on a date, during the apocalypse, like this is just weird, ya know?”

Pietro frowns.

“Apocalypse? We’re safe in here, in these walls. Everyone is safe in here.”

Your smile drops.

You stare at him and begin to wonder if he’s actually being serious. Was the majority of the people in here really convinced that this was it? That everything was perfect? Was Hydra really that capable? Part of you is proud of your parent’s work because you truly were safe because of what they built, but the world was still out there, living. There was still more. This wasn’t supposed to be a permanent solution.

There were people out there still dying, trying to survive. And these people had no idea, including Pietro.

You realize you’re quickly going into dark territory and you don’t want Pietro digging into what you were trying to say, accidentally blowing your cover.

“You’re right. I don’t know why I said that.” You say quickly. You bring the chicken to your mouth, taking a small and careful bite, “This is so good.” You say after chewing and swallowing.

“I’m glad you liked it. I made some lava cakes for desert, too.”

You laugh.

“Are you a cook?”

“Nah. Just watch a lot of Tiny Kitchen.”

You perk a brow.

“Tiny Kitchen?”

“You’ve never heard of Tiny Kitchen?”

You laugh, placing your fork down on the plate.

“No, what the hell is it? A small kitchen?”

“Literally what it is. I’ll show it to you afterwards.”

“Okay.” You grin.

You look down at your plate again, wanting to go in for another bite, but for some reason you just can’t.

+ + +

He doesn’t get past episode three. He can’t.

Not when all thoughts of you clouded his mind. He knows Pietro is good people, so he’s entirely not concerned about that.

He knows he’s jealous. He knows that.

The jealousy mixed in with the anticipation of how the rest of the mission will play out worries him.

He wanted you home and near him, but since that wasn’t going to happen, he was home by himself, glooming.

He knows he needed a distraction right away so he picks up some of his things from the dining table, slides on a light jacket, and makes his way towards the tower.

He knows the blueprint of the tower already and he’s able to navigate himself into stairwell of the apartment on the top floor.

After weeks of dissecting, you both found out that Ashens’ father, Ashen, and his mother don’t live here with the boy. For safety precautions, which are obvious why, he’s being housed in under high security and under the supervision of some au pair who is as clueless of his importance as the day is young.

Bucky knows that what he’s about to do borders on breaking boundaries, and downright creepy.

But this was a situation he would qualify as desperate times comes to desperate measures.

Bucky’s able to bypass security, taking a security outfit off a ‘poor’ victim (he scoffs) as he does soon.

He’s just outside the boy’s bedroom when he hears the nanny tell Ashens goodnight.

When she’s leaving she tells Bucky in a heavy Bulgarian accent, clearly thinking he’s just a regular guard, that Ashens is about to go to sleep. Bucky keeps his head down and nods.

The clueless ar pair goes the opposite way, presumably to her own bedroom.

Bucky waits a few moments before knocking on the boy’s door.

He hears the little boy give out permission to come in. Bucky opens the door.

The bedroom is plain and depressing. There’s a bed with plain white sheets, a small nightstand, and a large window. There are no toys and nothing that would show any proof that a child resided here.

The room is not one he would expect for a boy Ashens’ age.

The little boy sits up in bed, his eyes squinting at the figure in his doorway.

“Hello.” The boy squeaks out.

Bucky practically laughs at how easy it was to get here. For a boy they are trying so hard to keep protected from just anyone, it was quite easy ending up just a few feet away from him.

Bucky’s had his fair share of experiences with kids, having a little sister himself. He knows he has to do this differently.

“Hi.” Bucky says lightly, almost too cheerfully.

The boy continues to stare at him as Bucky closes the door behind him, but not letting it close shut just yet.

“Who are you?”

Bucky slowly takes off his halo looking helmet and the boy squints at Bucky’s revealed face.

Bucky tucks the helmet under his arm and smiles.

“Can you keep a secret?”

The boy looks at him for a few more seconds before nodding slowly.

It’s not until Bucky is closer to the boy that his eyebrows shoot up,

“Wait. I know who you are.” Bucky can’t tell if the boy is excited or surprised, but the reaction makes Bucky’s chest swell.

This might go down easier than he expected.

“I -I was so little when I had the toy but,” the boy starts to talk excitedly and Bucky has to hide a growing smile, “Because I can’t have toys anymore. Not since we moved here. I was little but I remember,” the boy and Bucky both narrow their eyes at each other as if it’s a game to who would say it first, “it’s captain America. You ever heard of captain America?”

Bucky bites his lip.

“No, never.” He says sarcastically. “Oh, he’s the best. You look like his friend, but I don’t remember his name. He used to be the winter soldier and then he became good.”

Bucky’s heart swells again. The boy’s joy was so pure.

“Oh, yea?”

“Yeah. Dad didn’t like them vey much, though,” his face drops as he looks away from Bucky, “I didn’t like how happy he was when they all died. But no one knows that just us I think,” when Ashens looks up again, Bucky’s face is more solemn this time, “Are you sure you’re not the winter soldier?” The boy whispers the question.

Bucky considers his next words carefully. He places the helmet at the feet of the boy’s bed.

“If I told you I was?”

“I would be surprised because I though you were dead, and also I would be confused. Because why you here?”

Bucky nods. He looks away and then back at Ashens.

“Would you tell your dad?” He asks quietly. This was important.

The boy looks at him for a bit before answering.

“No. He would kill you. Daddy’s not on the good side.”

“And you believe I’m on the good side, right?”

“Yes. You’re an Avenger.”

Bucky bites his lip and looks around the room. This boy was good. It angered him that his own father wanted him killed. Now, more than ever, he wanted to rescue this boy.

“Can you trust me?” Bucky asks, suddenly serious.

The boy nods.

“Am I in trouble?” He asks timidly. “What do you mean?” “Ae you here to save me, sir?”

The question broke Bucky’s heart, but he nods.

“I trust you.” The boy’s eyes dart down Bucky’s left side, “Can I feel you arm?” The edge of Bucky’s lips perk up as he takes a seat, “and what does it feel like to hold the shield? Did you really know Iron Man? Black Panther always said —”

+ + +

By the time Bucky is back you’re already home in your pajamas tucked into bed.

“Hey. Where’d you go?” You ask him as he takes off his coat, draping it over one of the chairs in the dining area.

He kicks off his shoes and reaches back, pulling off his shirt. He walks over to the closet for a new one.

“I met Ashens.”

You raise your brows at this. You knew it was part of the plan to happen, but you didn’t expect it to be today.

“What?”

Bucky also pulls out a new and clean pair of boxers, a smile tugging at his lips.

“Yeah. We spoke for a bit.” “And he didn’t recognize you?” “No, he did,” Bucky says simply, eyes going over to you. You looked so pretty, comforter pulled up under your clothed breasts, a book in your hands, and a messy bun in your hair. He wanted you. He looks away, remembering where you had just been, “He knows I’m here. He won’t tell his dad." “How can you be so sure?” “I’m an Avenger, aren’t I? That’s what everyone tells me, has been telling me.” He says it bitterly. Bucky sighs, closing the closet door and then walking over to the bed near you, “Because I made him a promise that I was here to save him. I think he knows his dad is bad news. He’s a smart kid. He knows his dad hits his mom, too.” Bucky’s voice is soft.

“So you trust he’ll keep this between us?”

“I do.”

You nod. You watch Bucky’s eyes as his stare stays on you, unnerving.

“And you?” You voice shakes as you ask, “How are you? Ya know, after?”

Bucky nods his head.

“I’m alright, ya know? I — ,” something happens to him that you had never seen before. A wave of happiness washes over Bucky’s face like a fresh cup of lemonade. His eyes shine and a bright smile fills his face. Even his voice sounds perkier, “It was just so nice talking to him. He’s such a sweet kid. I know we’re doing the right thing,” his eyes meet yours again and his voice lowers to a deep tone, “We’re both going to walk away from this mission with more than we thought.” It’s the first time he’s said that you are both going to walk away from the mission together, and not just you. He knows that. Bucky clears his throat, “You definitely won’t run into his father. He’s not living with him to avoid attention and possible abductions. Ashens is a literal rapunzel right now.”

“Good. That’s good.” Obviously it wasn’t. But it was good for the both of you. You had less chances of running into Ashen.

Bucky takes in a deep breath when he realizes his eyes are lingering on your collarbones for far too long.

“How was your date?” He actually doesn’t want to even know, the thought of you and Pietro makes him sick, but he knows he needs to show courtesy. They can’t ignore it forever. “It was fine. I wasn’t feeling too well, though—“

Bucky’s eyes narrow.

“—Oh no, I’m sorry.”

“Couldn’t eat. But,” you took a deep breath and eyed the hallway, "Brought some in a small Tupperware if you want it. It’s in the kitchen.”

Bucky ignores the flutter in his heat at the mention that you thought of him. Thought of him enough to bring the leftovers for him.

He smiles.

“What is it?” “Chicken Parm.” You watch as Bucky continues to watch you, eyes still sparkling. “You sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine. You’re happy, right?” Your eyes flicker away for a moment.

“Y-yeah.”

He knows he’s not fine so he lies.

“Then I’m fine. You looked great by the way.” He adds quickly.

You tilt your head at him and he tilts his back.

Damnit, he needed you.

“Yeah?” You ask hoarsely.

He wanted you.

“You’re glowing.” He says.

+ + +

Jazz and burlesque shows were the epitome of everything she had lived for up until she was sixteen years old. The smell of handmade lace garters and expensive perfume still lingered in the back of her mind, bringing her a feeling of contentment and a strange longing for the past.

Nostalgia would overwhelm her as she looked on at what was the exact contrast to her innocence – her mother’s hugs. She missed those nights where she’d play some 12’s of her beat up vinyl on her record, the scratches adding to Peggy Lee’s voice a twinge of imperfection that made it the perfect tone.

With nothing on but her undergarments, and a pair of leg garters accompanied with knee high black stockings, she’d open her closet to a huge collection of gorgeous cocktail dresses. A couple handful landed just above her knees, not many past her mid shin - Scandalous and mildly scandalous. Her parents would kill her if they ever found out she even owned them (let alone have them in their home) so she kept those hidden in a little pile in the back corner of the wardrobe.

She had every right to be terrified for many reasons. It’s not that she was not loyal or a rebel, per say. She was born and raised into a Christian family, all strict rules of modesty and heavy morals applied to her daily life. She was always daddy’s little girl in the simplest sense possible.

She wouldn’t ever dare roll her eyes at him or purposefully make him disapprove of her, ever. Sure, she was raised in a rich family, so she was used to getting everything she always wanted. Material things being at the top of the list. Even then she remained as humble as possible.

Especially when she thought her strong faith was behind it all.

Do well for God, he gives back in return, right? At least that’s what her naïve self believed at the time. But she’d never admit it to her family that she now thought otherwise, especially to her mom.

If anything, God was now banning them all to Hell anyway.

Her vanity was those of every girl’s dreams. Drawers filled with everything you could only wish of having. Inside were lingerie of every shade (from fiery red to pure jet black, like the night sky in the city), style, and earrings of every pearl and diamond crystal variety you could think. Her favorite would always be the garters.

She’d clip each of the four clasps into place just above her knees with her nimble fingers and then she’d sit opened legged in front of the mirror.

Diligently, and with prestige dexterity, she’d apply her blood red lipstick and her four inch black heels.

After an o shape with her lips around her fingers and a loud pop, she’d walk around her room and close her eyes, envisioning herself as a burlesque girl and a sensual song playing in the background. After all, she had all the right in the world to be the exact opposite at night than what she was during the day. Morally, at least.

She still remained as the same sweet, innocent, and faithful young girl she always was. But she had big hopes and dreams, especially in film and dance. God should be okay with dreams, she thought.

When she had learned the truth it was just short of her 20th birthday. She unwontedly found out that her father and brother were different souls at night, too. She wished she never found out that everything that had been lying in front of her had been a lie, and instead of life being a gifted blessing it was instead a bloody carcass hades.

Their life wasn’t one she liked to admit to partaking in. There were times where she would trick into telling herself that they weren’t doing it. She’d trick herself into thinking that way so that when she saw her dad that night, she’d be able to surpass the strong smell of whiskey and gun powder and kiss him goodnight.

Jimmy would roll his eyes with a shove past her shoulder.

As much as she detested it, she knew that without them, they wouldn’t be living in one of the most beautiful homes in all of Manhattan in complete safety. It was because of them that she wasn’t living out in the slums. She tried to divide that part of harsh reality from her brain as much as she could. Eventually, the pros outweighed the cons.

Maybe it was the fact that her body had finally developed into a women’s body. Her breasts were now fully perked and her legs were long and porcelain gorgeous; all she knew was they figured she could be put to good use.

At first she was repulsed by her own father’s comment, but if it meant having dinner that night and not getting killed, she would swallow those nagging feelings and take it head on. It never lasted too long anyway, and all she had to do was stand there and be her brother’s accessory.

When her father brought her into the business, he told her she would thank him one day when she had children of her own- she’d have all the men of the lower east side wrapped around her pretty little finger.

She was alright with it, until something happened that she would never forget. She had to swallow the repulsive bile and control herself not to run away then and there. She was too far in and knew way too much.

It was just another Tuesday night and she had been sitting at the dinner table, when both her mom and dad had stepped out of the dining room and into the kitchen. She ate her soup quietly, not being able to stop thinking about going back to her room to play burlesque, when Jimmy had turned to her.

At first it was the sudden motion that caught her attention, it had made a strand of blonde hair fly off her arm. Then it was the feral look in his eyes.

“Daisy,” his voice was low and dangerous. Daisy knew that tone very well because it was the tone all the other men used on their nights of missions. She was terrified and disgusted. Wide eyes trailed from her eyes to her full red lips and she felt a cold rigid finger against the heat of her skin on her upper thigh, pushing the fabric slightly up. She gulped.

Jimmy smiled, “You gorgeous thing.”

She thought about telling her father but she knew that if he found out, the one partnership that was bringing them the most cash would be jeopardized and it would have to be terminated and he’d be more than upset. She knew when her dad got angry, it was not good. It’s was messy and bad.

Back at dinner, her father would say grace before they ate, all of them hand in hand, and her mom would sit there quietly, a terrified and exhausted look in her smiles. She had heavy bags that weren’t there years ago, and her hair that used to always be done was now up in a messy clip, the baby hairs hanging against her wrinkled forehead, messy and unruly. But still she managed to smile, even if it wasn’t a real smile. It was all a stupid act.

It reminded Daisy of how she herself was when she was 16 - pretending to be oblivious to what her family were doing to the innocent. And so she hated her mom for that, for being just like her.

She felt disgusted in herself, she felt disgust for her family. Oh how she missed those days of when she was a child, before she even knew the truth. It was all so much simpler back then and she was so much happier. The worst it used to get was when her mother would tell her stories about when she was a nurse back in WWI.

She had wanted to be like her mom at first. Her mom was quiet, humble, caring, and extremely gracious. It’s what made her such a good person to have back in the war to help the soldiers- she was strong willed and knew she could help and would in her best ability do so. But those stories made Daisy question why any man in his right mind would want to do such a thing to their own body- putting themselves at such a risk.

Sure, she was privileged by riches, but problems didn’t have to be solved by violence. There must be other ways, like prayer or simply believing.

Her mother would tell her the graphic stories of the injuries that made Daisy queasy and fidget in her seat. She loved her mom’s qualities and how willing she was to help others who were injured and almost dying, but it still made no sense to her.

When daisy questioned her concerned to her mother she had simply said:

“Don’t question acts of the daring and misinterpret it for insanity. Simply thank the courages ones for their heart and strong character, for not all are willing to do the good and get destroyed in the worst way, not for their own benefit, but for others.”

To this day, Daisy wondered if her mom was indirectly referencing her own father- him lacking thereof.

Next, she wondered about when her mom stopped believing her own words.

Daisy wondered if she’d ever meet one one day - a soldier. Someone willing to get destroyed. Or if her mom had been lying and all men are the same, evil like her father and brother.

But she was evil, too.

No, I don't wanna fall in love.

A/N: yes. she’s pregnant.

@snakeeatery17 @utterlyhopeful-fics , @marvelfan1017, @iheartsebastianstan , @annathesillyfriend , @redhairedfeistynerd, @perksofbeingabookworm, @amyrose051, @meegggoooo, @morganclaire4 , @captainchrisstan, @bxndys , @shoesonpointe , @writerwrites, @rainbowkisses31, @lindatreb , @littlemissner98 , @dezzylou24, @ayeitslelee , @hardygal69 , @emmabarnes , @redbarn1995@thequeenreaders@ilovemysupersoldiers@maximumplaidzonknerd@ceapa-mica @s-trawberryv-eins@buckysknifecollections@sobangie@lindatreb@theseuscmander@nervous-plant @wildmoonflower @aya-fay@appreciating-fanfics@kaitlynisinfinite@justreadingfics@kaitieskidmore1 @mrsdancing @everythingiloveandcherish @shinykoalacat @dragongirl31 @kaitlynisinfinite @alwaysclassyeagle

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes #Bucky Barnes x reader #bucky x you #Bucky Barnes smut #Bucky Barnes fanfic #Bucky Barnes fanfiction #fanfiction #marvel fanfic #marvel fanfiction #tfatws fanfic #winter soldier

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papipopsicle · 3 years

Text

AFTERTASTE PART SEVEN

Pairing: Archie Andrews X Reader

Summary: In which two best friends since childhood test whether sex and friendship can co-exist without causing conflict. Including OC's Flick and Cherry, a bisexual and lesbian in a sapphic relationship who are best friends of Y/N.

Song: Dream Boy by Waterparks

Warnings: swearing

Words: 2.1K

MASTERLIST

feedback is always appreciated

Y/F and Y/M Robins were far from perfect parents. Y/F had the mental age of a toddler at times, and being an estate agent who always has to go the extra mile- he often wasn't home when his wife needed him the most. Y/M, on the other end of things, had been a stay at home mum until Y/N turned 16 last summer, and now she helped with all the administrative work for Mayor McCoy. She was a maternal creature which, coupled with her brilliant sarcasm, made for some explosive conversations. The two met on the first day of university and got married a week after the last.

When Y/M first found out she was pregnant with little Y/S Robins, the two realised they wanted a quiet bubble of a town to raise their children and grow up with them. But it wasn't until their second daughter was about to turn seven until they found their forever home in the quaint town of Riverdale. Ten years passing before their eyes, and the picturesque place didn't seen all that anymore.

Jason Blossom's death had nothing to do with the short gunshot sounding over the waves of Sweetwater River, the noise which woke Y/N from her sweet unmemorable dreams every few nights. The summer days rolled into early August without anyone caring, Y/N spending most of them at Cheryl's side listening intently to her past adventures with her brother. Betty threw herself into an internship at a publication house; Flick and Cherry had volunteered at a summer camp, and Archie was helping his dad out more and more with constructions job.

Although it hadn't been the start to the relationship Y/N had hoped for- the nervous giggles and hand holding, short and sweet kisses on late night walks followed by poetry worthy cuddling. There was a magnificent silver lining as Archie's muscles gained definition, and he suited the sweaty builder look far too well.

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"Earth to my gorgeous queen? Y/N/N?" Cheryl quizzed her friend, who currently resided at the poolside of Thornehill Manor. Her mind was off on a glorious tangent about her rendezvous in the kitchen at two in the morning. Fixing herself a glass of water, when Archie slips his hand into her pyjama shorts, his other around her mouth muffling her needy moans.

The red headed beauty shoved her y/h/c friend playfully, warm skin sweaty under her pale touch. Y/N blinked innocently and sent her an apologetic smile, "What?"

"I asked if you've thought about dating anyone else since Clayton?" The fiery ginger girl enquired with her usual upbeat tone.

Cheryl knew she had a unique quality about her which made it almost impossible for Y/N to lie to her face. The y/h/c girl scrunched up her nose, hiding the smile the idea of Archie Andrews brought to her face. 'Yes. We started off as fuck buddies but never actually fucked. Then I drunkenly asked him to be my boyfriend, now a month later I think we may genuinely work out.'

"Maybe." Y/N bit her bottom lip, listening to her friend's squeal as she squeezed her sun tanned arm.

"I knew it! You have this euphoric glow you only get when someone else makes you climax." The redhead affirmed confidently, watching the Robins girl's eyes bug out before hitting her arm, "Y/N/N, you know your secret's safe with me."

"Fine." She sighed and took a sip of her fruity cocktail, "It started off as just fooling around, honestly I just needed to let off some steam after everything. I knew he was into the kinds of things I was, I mean he used to tease me about it non stop. And it was good, so good I stopped being a pussy and asked him to be my boyfriend."

"Holy freaking hell!" The Blossom girl grinned with excitement, "Dare I ask, who is it?"

Y/N deadpanned at her friend, "Guess."

"Please don't tell me it's that muscular oaf Reggie, he's pretty but there's not exactly much going on upstairs." Cheryl tapped her temples and rolled her eyes at the thought.

"Nope."

The ginger thought for a moment, consulting her liquid courage and splashing her feet around the waters edge, "It's Archie."

All it took was a side-eyed glance at the y/h/c girl's blooming rosy cheeks to know she definitely wasn't wrong. Y/N severely lacked the ability to lie, even if her tone held conviction, her features were far too expressive and told the truth all on their own. It's not like they were hiding it from anyone, but the past four weeks had gone far too quickly without any moments to spare for the world around them. They slept together each night, the majority of that time not actually spent sleeping, but they hadn't been given the chance yet to explore more romantic avenues.

"It's fucking Archie Andrews- you're fucking Archie Andrews and don't you dare deny it." Cheryl gawked in her gorgeous white and nude bikini, watching as her friend lay back against the hot marble slabs which encased the large pool with the largest grin adorning her plump lips.

"We haven't had sex yet, so technically you aren't completely correct." Y/N winked but carried on before the girl exploded with a hundred questions and could never be turned off, "Trust me, I want to, and I'm sure he does too. But you know, it's his first time, I want it to be perfect for him."

"Y/N/N, you really love him, don't you?" Cheryl gagged to begin with, but she found it sweet in truth. She wanted someone to hold, who would hold her right back just as tight for no other reason than needing to.

Y/N sat back up and paddled her feet, "You have no idea, Cher."

Arch 🧡

That new post should be illegal

Tiger 💛

Ooo

I like this reaction

Maybe I should post more

Like this one

Cheryl pushed me in the pool

And I may have had a drink

Or three

Arch 🧡

Well that's sexy

I swear nobody looks good like that how on earth

You're a goddess

But also

How's she holding up?

Tiger 💛

🥺😇

Broken

But she's strong yk

You coming over for dinner?

Arch 🧡

Yeah Y/D invited my dad too

Need me to pick you up from Cheryl's?

Tiger 💛

Awe cute we love a bromance, and it's all good my mommas coming now anyways :))

Hours had elapsed far too fast and soon the summer heat simmered into cool waves of wind brushing over sun kissed skin. Cheryl's arms were clasped around the blonde's shoulders in a tight embrace.

"Thank you so much, Y/N/N, I don't know what I'd do without you!" The Blossom girl professed with sparkling eyes and a brilliant smile.

Y/N beamed up at her, fingers carding through her damp y/h/c hair as she looked over her shoulder to see her mum pulling into the driveway, "You don't need to thank me, Cher, friends look after each other. Message me if you need me, okay?"

Cheryl promised she would and the two teen girls hugged goodbye, with Y/N soon heading home- listening to her mother gossip about Hal and Alice's screaming match last night, Y/N loved her inability to keep her mouth shut sometimes.

"Mom," The y/h/c stopped her mid sentence and received a side eyed glance in response, "I need to tell you something and you're totally not allowed to freak out while you're driving."

Y/M's eyes widened and her grip tightened around the steering wheel, her daughters very rarely confided in her. While she knew her youngest was safe in her promiscuity, neither of Y/M Robins' girls ever shared their secrets so for the most part she took finding out into her own hands.

"Honey," The forty four year old's calm tone was hardly comforting to the teenager, "if this is about you and Archie fooling around, your father and I figured that out a long time ago, like so long ago. Who do you think does your laundry? When your underwear starting looking like dental floss, we caught on pretty quickly."

Y/N felt like a deer in headlights, "Mum, what the hell?" Her cheeks heated to an inhuman temperature.

"It's nothing to be embarrassed about, as long as you're being safe and he's-"

"For the second time today, and I can't believe I'm saying this to you, but I am not having sex with Archie Andrews!" Y/N's high pitched voice sounded through the car. It truly was a blessing and a curse to have such open minded parents in situations like this. She thought about telling her mother the truth, but Y/M was a blabber mouth as well as a gossip, so Y/N chose to withhold certain pieces of information.

The Robins matriarch dropped the subject but didn't forget about her daughter's tone, and continued to ramble on about how odd she found Penelope Blossom and the whole Blossom family in general. "Like why on Earth is Rose in a wooden wheelchair? They know it's the twenty first century, right?"

As expected, the Robins household was once again filled with warm laughter and copious amounts of food. The topic of Jason was skimmed over, and Y/S found herself away from the dinner table. The eldest Robins sibling was currently pleading with Alice as she began shoving all of Polly's belongings in the boot of Hal's car. She couldn't comprehend life without her best friend, not after losing Jason. They were meant to be going travelling together for a year- working the worst jobs and staying up all night to watch the sun rise in different countries. But instead, Y/S's eyes were blinded by tears as she screamed down the street at the speeding car, with Polly Cooper taken out of her life indefinitely.

Y/N was oblivious to the dark inner workings of the Cooper clan, Betty's knowledge about her and Archie unbeknownst to the loved up teens. She'd spent every second not occupied by her internship trying to justify the romantic act as a fleeting moment of loneliness fuelled by alcohol. She wrote in her diary ideas on how she could win Archie back over, not knowing it was in fact, too late. Betty found herself hopelessly in love with the boy next door, unfortunately for her, the girl across the road was the only one his mind found.

Archie and Y/N washed up while their parents resided to the living room with three glasses and a bottle of white wine. The short girl turned the tap off after placing the last utensil on the draining board, flicking her sudsy hands at the boy's face. "What the-"

She didn't give him a chance to finish that thought, jumping up and wrapping her legs around his torso- planting a kiss onto his lips, then cheeks, then forehead. The two fell entranced by each other, planting pecks across nape of her neck and top of his head.

"Son," Fred's voice called out from the next room and the two immediately pulled apart, hearts beating in their ears, "we're going in a minute."

"Alright." He replied, placing his girlfriend on the floor once more.

"I wish you'd stay." Y/N pouted childishly, she meant the words entirely but hated feeling overbearing. Her life had been turned upside down this summer, it started off with her unable to fall asleep with another person next to her- now Archie's chest was her most comfortable pillow and is arms were the warmest blanket.

"Tomorrow night instead, Princess? I promised my dad I'd spend more time with him before senior year." The boy reasoned, holding her close and unknowingly feeling the exact same way, he adored holding her by her waist and pulling her close under the duvet.

"Monopoly night at yours?" She grinned and he nodded back in reply, the two sharing a final kiss in the kitchen before walking into the hallway.

Y/N felt at ease as she wished the two a goodnight and headed up to bed. She took off her tea dress and replaced it with Archie's bulldog t-shirt, managing to reach the same length on her thighs as her dress did.

Arch 🧡

I can still smell your perfume on my sheets

Tiger 💛

Marking my territory obviously x

Arch 🧡

I love it

Hope you sleep well baby x

Tiger 💛

Call me that tomorrow and we won't be sleeping so you better rest up tonight x

Arch 🧡

Whatever you say, baby x

Tiger 💛

Goodnight x

Arch 🧡

Night princess x

part eight?

wanna be tagged? just send in an ask x

#fanfic #fanfiction #riverdale #archie andrews #archie x reader #archie andrews x reader #archie #Riverdale imagine #riverdale fluff #riverdale smut #riverdale imagines #archie imagine #fluff #smut

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keigelsss · 3 years

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A Super Sweet Secret - Gojo Satoru

Merry late Christmas ya filthy animals ;)

Mega thirst moment based on this post and I think it just fits this fucker so well. I wrote part of this at 3am and I hate it so much ... fellow Gojo fuckers come get ya food.

Warnings: 18+, my shitty writing, language, mentions of alcohol, Gojo using infinity (had to do it on em), smut, DIRTY TALK, fingering, oral *fem receiving, overstim, squirting, uh… the pet names are super self-indulgent too oops, literally every grammatical error you can think of (please let me know if I missed any warnings I don’t wanna upset anyone or make anyone uncomfy. That being said minors pls DNI!! I don't feel like blocking anyone today)

Word count: 2.25k (i do be getting carried away)

How do you go about explaining your current situation to the higher-ups if you get caught with him? Do you tell them that, instead of getting pointers on how to guide students down the right path, you’ve been indulging in some very explicit acts with the man who is supposed to show you the ropes? No. That’s not right either but in all honesty, it would have been a lost cause from the get-go. Gojo Satoru is the least traditional in his teaching methods and is without a doubt a troublemaker but his antics are a part of what makes him so charming. It’s that same charm that finally made you cave and accept a coffee date with him on the next day you both had off.

You don’t know exactly when it happened but little by little those morning coffee dates turned into mid-day snack runs, then dinner and overindulging in desserts at the other’s house. Everything took an unexpected turn when you went a bit overboard on the sake one night. The next morning you woke up naked on your couch, the sun in your face, a pounding headache and a large man clinging to your body like a koala. As much as you wanted to maintain a professional relationship between the two of you, it was so hard to not crave another taste of him. He couldn’t resist you either, one bite and he kept coming back for more.

You two are definitely going to get into some serious trouble for this.

After stressful days of exorcising curses Gojo likes to unwind with a sweet treat from his local bakery and you by his side. He’ll find it ridiculously adorable if you have a bigger sweet tooth than he does. On the walk back to his house, you both snag a pastry from the bag of goodies and laugh at the other for not being able to wait until you reached your destination. The two of you arrive shortly after but Gojo decided he wasn’t entirely satisfied...

“Hey, sugar?” he asked while removing his sunglasses, his eyes entirely focused on your movements. You started to place what was left of the little cakes in a dish that was used specifically for the sweet treats of the day, he quickly recalled how you made fun of him for the fancy crystal platter but he admitted to being a bit extra like that. “What’s up trouble?” He let out a soft chuckle and got closer, wrapping his arms around your shoulders leaning down to rest his chin on top of your head. “Trouble? That couldn’t be me.” you placed the cover back on the platter and put your hands on his arms settling back into him slightly. “You only call me ‘sugar’ when you want something from me, so what is it?”

Now that was true, he had a list of pet names for you that he liked to pull out for certain occasions and you caught onto that quickly. It’s really not fair at all how he can make innocent words sound so damn sinful when he wanted to tease you. You turned to face him now, his hands resting on either side of you. He leans down and places a feather-soft kiss on your lips, so soft it’s almost like he’s not making full contact with you.

“I thought we didn't do those things when it was just us together like this?” Your eyes fluttered open and he came back in for a real kiss, his hot tongue lingering lazily on your bottom lip but not enough to excite you. He does that on purpose. “I know but it’s just the thought of it, I can tell you're thinking about it too.” He reached for the dessert dish and picked up a small cream filled pastry, he took a bite and offered you the other half. You knew it wasn’t an accident when he got the filling on your lip and chin. He used his thumb to clean up the mess he made then licked it clean, he is actually evil but even if you do hate him sometimes you can’t find it in you to resist him.

“C’mon Y/n, don't you think it would be interesting to try while I go down on you? Just a little bit?” You bit your lip at the thought and he was already excited for your answer. He was right, the idea of him between your legs, devouring you but not quite. Being able to feel everything between the two of you but not making an actual connection. it ignited a small fire within you.

“We can try it once but I can’t promise that I'll like it.”

Truthfully that was all he needed to hear before he began to strip you of your clothes, leaving you completely naked. His large hands began exploring your body, grabbing onto any dip and curve he can find while placing sloppy kisses on your neck. He used both hands to get a firm grip of your ass, lifting you onto the cold marble countertop, you let a small moan escape you at the feeling and he placed a wet kiss on your lips. Tugging on the fabric of his long sleeve you brought it up and off revealing his defined upper body, you could drool if you didn't have some self control. “Satoru not too much okay? It’ll drive me crazy when all I want is to feel you.” The whimper that fell from your pretty mouth was almost enough to make Gojo cum in his pants, you swore you saw hearts glowing in his bright blue eyes. “Don't worry princess only a little bit. Besides you know my sweet girl always gets what she wants.”

If there was anything that came close to what you picture heaven was like, it would definitely be the equivalent to Gojo’s strong, slender fingers expertly rubbing your folds. He always found every sweet spot and applied the perfect amount of pressure without you having to say a word.

“Baby, did I make you this wet?” He used his thumb to spread your slick around, creating a delightful rhythm on your clit. Hips trembling when he grazed that one spot that practically had you gushing for him.

“Yes! It was yo- oh fuck that feels so good!” you leaned forward, resting your head on his chest, admiring the way his fingers looked so mesmerizing covered in the pretty shine of your juices. “You know you're the sweetest thing ever right? So damn delicious. I can spend hours between these sexy thighs of yours.” His breath is hot on the tip of your ear and that smooth voice sends shockwaves throughout your entire body. His free hand wrapped around your thigh and gripped below your knee, shifting the angle at which his fingers were exploring your overly sensitive hole.

“Are you gonna let me make you cum with my mouth? Let me taste how sweet you are?” his lips started to trail the sides of your neck down to your chest. He left a series of kisses on each breast, sucking lightly on your stiff and sensitive nipples. “Ah Satoru please! I want- Ooh want your tongue.” He licked a stripe across your tummy then placed a soft kiss on your belly button, he moved your thighs once more and found a position comfortable for the two of you. Your legs resting nicely on his shoulders while he rubbed circles on your hips and waist. “Look at this gorgeous pussy,” a soft kiss on your inner thigh. “So pretty.” another kiss on your swollen clit, you couldn't help but arch your back off the counter, grabbing a handful of his soft hair. He nibbled on your thigh and a sharp whine fell from you. “Remember to behave sweetheart, I'm supposed to be going easy on you.” His chuckle vibrated against your hot mound and you let out a sigh, releasing some tension from your hands on his head, allowing him to do what he wanted with your body.

Gojo’s tongue seemed to have a mind of its own, curling and sucking at the special spot that only he knew about with perfect accuracy. The buzzing sensation that you normally felt when he's down there was reduced to an incomplete static, like your nerves weren’t fully receiving the information of his movements. Now that? That was different. It really was infinity… a barrier he controlled entirely, the rolling of his tongue feeling more like a whisper of pleasure that was everything and nothing at the same time. You were right to think it would drive you crazy but in the most euphoric way possible. “Oh my god it feels s-so good! P-please don’t stop baby I’m so fucking close.”

The large kitchen was filled with desperate sounds of pleasure and the soft squelching of Gojo’s fingers inside your quivering cunt. This feeling was new but you were instantly hooked. It didn't take long for you to fall over that glorious edge with a broken moan of his name and a string of curses, making little to no sense at all. A deep groan erupts from his chest as he takes in every drop of your release in satisfaction. His gaze found your blissed out expression and he decided to ease up on that invisible veil between you, fingers slipping from your tight whole. You clenched around nothing and the loss of his fingers filling you was enough to nearly make you cry.

“That‘s my favorite flavor right there sweetheart.” he spent some time admiring the way you looked coming down from your high. The rise and fall of your breasts with every breath paired alongside the slight shaking in your limbs from how intense the orgasm was. You're a work of art to him, truly, especially like this. Opening your eyes you find his stupid gorgeous face resting on your thigh, licking his lips simply enjoying your taste. You ran your fingers through his hair one more time before softly squishing his face with your legs, letting out a breathless giggle while regaining some grasp on reality. “I w-want more, but let me feel all of you for fucks sake!”

He instantly obliged, diving right back in, using only his tongue, setting a languid pace. His animalistic groans against your over sensitive pussy were a telling sign that he was enjoying himself, probably ridiculously hard in the confines of his jeans. The thought of his cock deep inside of you was enough to get you shamelessly turned on all over again. If it weren't for his hands on your hips, rubbing easing circles into your soft skin, you would be a convulsing mess on the hard marble beneath you. A dull ache was beginning to form in your lower back, but you could care less. Gojo's tongue was working wonders on that delectable bundle of nerves of yours. His hands started trailing upwards and fondling your breasts, your spine arching under his touch as he pinched your nipples. You both made eye contact and he could tell that you were close to another release, your entire body was starting to shake. “Ye-yeah baby I’m gonna f-fucking cum.” his tongue never relenting on you. You were on the verge of screaming, your thighs were probably strangling him at this point.

“Mhm my little honeypot. Are you gonna make a mess?” he growled delicately against you.

That was also new but holy shit it had your brain short circuiting. Honeypot?! Damn you really could make a mess and that was exactly what you did. His relentless attack on your clit was blinding but so fucking delicious you didn't want it to end. You squirted all over his face, covering his neck and chest with a stream of your juices. The added stimulation of his abilities, and the shock of this new pet name clearly having an impact on your intense orgasm. it could possibly be the best you've experienced. He was aware of that fact as well. “I love when you do that.” honestly you did too. The aftershock of it all had you both mesmerized, your body just a quaking mess, panting and moaning. You struggled a bit to get air back into your lungs but Gojo's hands squeezed on your waist reassuringly. Your hips were beginning to relax and he once again found a place to momentarily rest his head on your thighs.

He huffed a small howl of amusement. You could instantly tell what he was so giddy about. “So? Honeypot?” you questioned him, not in a judging manner but out of curiosity and excitement. “It kind of just came out of me in the moment.” You couldn't help but laugh at his answer, a fitting response. You took a second to relish in the sight of your cum and his sweat tracing his brow. It will forever remain a mystery on how you managed to get so addicted to the world’s biggest pain in the ass, but here you were.

That evil little smirk made another appearance on his face while he brought himself up to kiss you, the taste of yourself was very much present on his tongue and soft lips, you screeched in excitement. He swiftly lifted you off the counter and began his trek towards his bedroom.

“Are you maybe just a bit more curious on what else I can do to that pretty body of yours?”

yeah this is trash uh if you read this sorry for the lack of seasoning in your food

tags: @bobabybo @ibukiirisha

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patt-writes-stuff · 3 years

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Violetgrass (Xiao x f!reader)

Pairing: Yan!Xiao x f!reader

Word count: 6.7K+

Warnings: not the most canon complaint cuz the timeline for the archon War is a little blurry? Angst with no happy ending, major and repeated character death, semi-detailed descriptions of blood, injuries, and violence. Unhealthy and toxic relationships, yandere themes, mentions of stalking, controlling behavior, mentions of kid-napping, forced captivity. Unhealthy mindsets and generally xiao’s kinda slowly losing his sanity. Some delusions. Allusions of starvation/dehydration (it’s like one sentence). Pleas do not read this if any of the previously mentioned topics trigger you in any way.

Genre: Angst and Yandere

Tags/Aus: Mythology Au, Reincarnation Au

Summary: You and Xiao were lovers during the Archon War. You were his paradise, his bliss, and, unfortunately, a fragile mortal who was taken away far too soon. However Celestina was kind enough, or perhaps cruel enough, to bring you back to Xiao, only to rip you out of his loving embrace once more. This happens again and again, each time far more painfully than the last. Even an Adeptus such as Xiao can only take so much before he snaps though. This time, he’s gonna make sure that no one, not even you, can take his bliss away.

A/N: This is my piece for the Attack on Academia Mythology Au Collab!! Be sure to check the rest of them, they’re all super awesome and made by amazing writers!

You’ve heard the myth about the Vigilant Yaksha and the violetgrass maiden, haven’t you?

It’s said that the two are eternally intertwined, destined to love each other, only to be ripped apart by both her mortality and the cruelty of the gods. The tale itself goes like this…

The first time the Adeptus and his mortal lover met was back when the Archon War was still roaring. The smell of blood and misery filled the air and Rex Lapis had yet to claim his title as the Geo Archon. Despite this, some managed to find joy and serenity in these troubling periods.

The maiden was one of those people. She found joy in frolicking through the fields and climbing the highest mountains to collect qingxin flowers and, her personal favorite, violetgrass, whenever she had the time. Though climbing up the steep mountains and jagged peaks of Liyue was indeed dangerous, the damsel had become quite skilled at climbing, her hold rarely ever slipping, no falls or cuts of any sort.

Until one day, the maiden was climbing up a particular mountain. It was a troublesome one, for there were no proper footholds or protruding stones to grab on to. Still, the pretty violetgrass that was just a foot or two away from her, swaying gently with the wind, was far too tempting to not collect. It would look so lovely in a flower crown, or maybe a vase, perhaps she could flatten it out to make a bookmark or-

A piercing shriek escaped the mortal. Whilst her thoughts had been elsewhere, she’d stopped on a small ledge that was far too fragile to support her weight, the rock beneath the maiden gave away to nothing before she could react.

She shut their eyes tightly, bracing herself for an impact that would surely leave her battered and bruised, if not dead.

However, it never came.

Instead, she was caught mid-air by a pair of strong arms that secured their hold under the mortal woman’s knees and neck. She didn’t open her eyes right away, for fear that she would still fall, choosing instead to catch their breath. Once her savior landed safely on the ground, something she was able to detect due to the thud of shoes against the earth, she slowly opened her eyes.

Upon opening them, her eyes met with the piercing amber eyes of a young man with dark hair (the color of the ocean at night, she thought dreamily) with pretty teal bangs framing his even prettier face. His brows were furrowed slightly, thin lips twisted into what seemed to be a permanent frown. In her still dazed state, she couldn’t help but think that he was far too handsome to look so dreadfully serious.

After an intense moment of eye contact, perhaps too intense for two strangers that had met only seconds prior, he let her go in a rather unceremonious manner, causing her to squawk in surprise, knees buckling under the unexpected weight. She had not yet had a chance to gather her bearings after such a terrifying event.

Instead of asking if she was alright, the young man simply said, in a rather crude and callous manner, “You should be more careful, mortal. If I hadn’t been there to catch you, you would’ve surely broken your neck.”

She gawked at him. Mortal? Why would he refer to her in such an… odd way?

The maiden looked at him up and down, as if trying to understand just what was wrong with this poor man. Suddenly, it struck her. She’d been an absolute idiot to not have noticed sooner. From the tattoo that adorned his right arm to the way he held himself, it had been so obvious.

Her savior was an Adeptus.

He wasn’t just an Adeptus, no. He was much more than that. He was one of the Adepti who served under Rex Lapis. He was one of the five Yakshas who kept her and the people of Liyue safe if the mask tied to his belt was any indication. And instead of killing demons or evil gods, he’d taken the time to save her.

Before she could muster an adequate thank you, he, who she’d now realized was Adeptus Xiao, was already leaving, uttering a quick “Please be careful,” on his way.

Quickly, and without really thinking, she grabbed onto his wrist, blabbering out the words, “Wait, don’t go! You must allow me to repay you for your generous actions!”

The amber-eyed Adeptus opened his mouth, ready to declare that it was unnecessary, but before he could, the damsel spoke up, “I could cook you something in return. How about almond tofu?” with a small giggle she added, “I assure you it’s sweeter than those dreams you eat.”

To both of their surprises, Xiao uttered a quiet, almost shy, “Yes.”

The Adeptus didn’t know what had come over him. All he knew is that there was something about the way her eyes sparkled and her lips moved, her soothing, melodious voice. It made his heart pound in a way it never had before.

And so, she cooked him some almond tofu, and they- well, she- talked as he ate the mouthwatering sweet.

He came back the day after that one and the one after that, followed on by the one after that, and so on. Xiao hadn’t meant to, really he hadn’t. But there was something about the maiden that just brought him a peace he had never experienced before. Her warm embrace and soft, gentle words were all he needed to keep fighting, to keep living, even. She was his paradise, his bliss. It wasn’t long until they were mutually infatuated with one another, deeply in love.

Every time he would visit her home, he would always bring her the flowers she so adored. Glaze lilies, silk flowers, and of course, violetgrass. Xiao had even gifted her a small broach, one made of the finest noctilucous jade, shaped like the downturned purple flower.

Unfortunately, everything is temporary for those punished with immortality.

The first time Xiao lost his maiden was, as he remembers, a rainy day. Despite the dreary weather, she had decided to go violetgrass picking since they’re always best picked after the rain.

But, dear Archons, what a dreadful idea that had been.

While the purple flower is indeed best picked after it rains, it is also the time when rocks are most… slippery.

So, as the maiden was climbing up the steep mountains of Juyen Karst, her right hand’s hold on the rock slipped, causing her palm to be cut open by a particularly jagged piece of stone. She hissed in, watching as blood began to ooze out. Panic started to seep in, there was no ledge for her to tend to her wound, and the cut was far too big for her to continue to climb up or down.

Dread began to fill her to her very core, she felt burning hot with unchecked anxiety, fear begging to settle into her gut in the most uncomfortable of manners. She should have waited for Xiao as he had asked of her. Ever since they had first met, a year ago to the day, he’d been so adamant on wanting to go with her to ensure her safety. She’d only wanted to surprise him with some when he returned home. The maiden was so sure it would’ve been a romantic anniversary gift, seeing as they were the cause of their meeting…

She’d been such a fool.

The violetgrass maiden attempted to climb down but Celestia seemed to laugh at her feeble attempts. She stretched her leg, trying to find the foothold she had used previously. However, her foot slipped and before she knew it, she was falling, just as she had been a year ago.

Horror filled her lungs, making it hard for her to breathe, her life flashed before her eyes, and then suddenly she remembered some words her lover had uttered to her one night under the glow of the moonlight when it was but the two of them in each other’s arms:

“If you awake to a knife at your throat, if monsters dig their claws into you, if death comes knocking at your door, call out my name, Adeptus Xiao. I will be here when you call.”

And so she called, at the top of her lungs, as loud as she could muster. The seconds seemed to turn to hours as she shut her eyes and waited to feel the strong arms of her lover, to hear the safety of his heartbeat.

But it never came.

Or rather, it came too late.

By the time Xiao had finished up the demonic creatures that threatening Liyue, by the time he’d answered her call, he was already too late.

Upon manifesting in the air out of nothing, he was greeted by the side of his love’s pitiful, mortal body. Her garments were bloody, the basket she carried her flowers in laid a few feet away from her body,her neck bent in a painfully awkward way.

Xiao felt so helpless. He was so helpless.

He could do no more than hold back the tears stinging his eyes and attempting to shake her awake.

The second time Xiao met the maiden was no more than a century after the first time. The Archon War was not yet over and sickness plagued every nook and cranny, taking the lives of hundreds upon thousands.

The two star-crossed lovers were reunited one clear summer night when the maiden was wandering aimlessly through the fields of Lingju Pass. She knew it was dangerous during these times, especially with how ill she had been feeling as of late. Yet, she couldn’t bring herself to care. She’d already spent hours tossing and turning in her bed. Sleep, however, refused to come. Instead, she felt the overwhelming urge to leave the safety of her bed and go there. It was as if someone had tied a rope around her waist and was tugging at it persistently, insisting she follows.

And so she followed.

Upon reaching a clearing, she froze. In front of her very eyes was a sitting Stonehide Lawachurl, the type even the fiercest warriors in your village struggled with. The maiden quickly started backing away, praying to the Lord of Geo that it wouldn’t sense her presence. Her prayers were in vain, however, for as soon as the thought escaped her, she stepped on a twig, making it snap and effectively alerting the fearsome monster of her presence.

She shook in terror as parts of the Lawachurl’s rocky exterior began to glow with geo elemental energy. She hadn’t expected anything of the sort to happen so she hadn’t brought her sword, meaning she couldn’t exactly fight it, definitely not without a vision at least. Running wasn’t much of an option considering her body’s weak and ill state. She could try to outrun it, sure, but it wouldn’t be long before she was driven to a coughing fit because of it.

Before life had a chance to flash before her eyes, a masked young man appeared. Distantly, she recognized him as one of the adepti and watched him easily defeat the Stonehide Lawachurl with a series of short, consecutive plunges. She couldn’t help but watch him, mouth agape in an expression of pure, unadulterated awe. The Adeptus didn’t even need a claymore to break through the creature’s thick, hard exterior. As bad as she felt for not assisting him, she knew she weren’t exactly in any position to lend a hand. Not that she needed to, though, for soon enough the monster crumbled into nothing but red and black smoke.

After a second of panting over the remains of what was left of the creature, polearm in hand, Xiao turned to her and felt his blood run cold.

It was her.

How could it be her? She had died long ago. He knew she had, he’d cradled her cold body as tears streamed down his face. He’d taken her lifeless body back to her family. He’d left flowers at her grave.

This had to be some sort of sick joke, he thought, perhaps the karmic debt was finally getting to him, just like it had his fellow Yakshas.

Suddenly, his amber eyes zeroed in on a broach she had pinned to her dress. A Violetgrass broach, to be exact. Made of noctilucous jade, just like the one he had given her. The one he’d made for her with his own hands. There was no denying it was the very one. Only, how could that be? He had ensured it had been buried with you…

But it was an indisputable fact. That broach was the one he had made for his love and the woman before him was her. It was her from her wide eyes, fixated on him with the same wonder they had always had when they looked at him. Her hair was the same color and texture, and it framed her face in the same way. It was her.

The beginnings of tears stung at his eyes. Perhaps Celestia had brought you back? Perhaps they’d finally realized, just as he had always known, that her death was cruel and unfair. That it wasn’t meant to be. That she was meant to be in his arms, happy and safe.

“Uhm- excuse me, Adeptus Xiao, are you alright?” She inquired worriedly, eyes solely on him, filled to the brim with concern.

‘Oh Archons’, he couldn’t help but think distantly, ‘I’ve missed her voice.’

Instead of running up to her and crushing him in his loving embrace, he stayed where he was, took off his mask, nodded briskly, swallowing as if to avoid the tightness in his throat. She didn’t seem to remember him yet, so there was no use in frightening her.

Before he could muster up the courage to speak to her, his love began to cough furiously, though she attempted to cover it up. She didn’t want to be rude to her savior, after all.

“Ha, pardon me, sir, I’ve just been feeling a bit under the weather is all,” she told him feebly.

He nodded brusquely, before uttering, “I shall return you home safely.”

“Oh no, I assure you, you’ve done more than enough for me. I can’t ask that of you,” she fumbled hurriedly, though his words were more of a statement than a question.

Xiao had never been one for unnecessary- or at least what he thought were unnecessary- words, so instead of saying anything, the Adeptus simply grabbed her by the waist and teleported you home, after asking where home was, of course.

The next day, the Yaksha visited the maiden’s home, a bushel of violetgrass flowers in hand. She’d been understandably surprised, yet thrilled that the dark-haired man was visiting her. She hadn’t expected someone as busy as him to make time for a regular person such as herself, especially not during these times.

“These are my favorite flowers, y’know? They’re just so beautiful,” the maiden exclaimed gleefully.

He did know. That had been one of the reasons he had brought them to her. The second reason was because of what happened last time, in her previous life, he supposed. Celestia had been kind enough to gift him a second chance with his love, and he was going to ensure that it did not go to waste.

And so, every day he would visit her. Some days he would bring silk flowers, or glaze lilies, while other days he would bring her loach pearls and core lapis. Not a day went by where he would not appear in front of the damsel’s house, a gift in hand, ready to hear her ramble about whatever that beautiful brain of hers desired to prattle on about.

“You’re simply too generous Xiao,” she’d told him playfully while she laid in her bed, as she was still unwell, the Adeptus seated in a plush chair next to it. “There has to be something I can give you in return for everything. I won’t take no for an answer.”

He thought for a moment, before asking, tentatively, “Do you know how to make almond tofu?”

He’d never forget her dazzling smile that day, as she shakily got out of her bed, latching onto the support he offered while she gathered her bearings, and marched to her kitchen, enthusiastically preparing the sweet treat as she talked about a book she’d been reading, one that’d been gifted to her by a friend, titled Moonlit Bamboo Forest.

The lovers did this every day for months. Xiao brought her some medicinal tea that Rex Lapis himself said could cure her ailments. They did indeed begin to see improvement in her health and Xiao couldn’t help but feel immense relief. This time, he wouldn’t lose her for certain.

Until the plagues reached her village.

She’d been one of the first to catch it since the village doctor came to check on her so often, he’d spread it to her. The plague, coupled with her previous illness, weakened her body in a manner of days. One day, Xiao went to get some medicine his fellow adepti had guaranteed would help the maiden feel better.

When he returned later that day, however, he found her body in the bed, cold and without a pulse, the stench of death and sickness thick in the air.

That was the second time he had lost her.

The third time the star-crossed lovers met was long after the archon war. Liyue was now its own nation with its own name, the great center of wealth and commerce. The Yakshas were now a thing of the past, having succumbed to their karmic debt. Eventually, they all fell in one way or another.

All but Xiao, who remained a constant throughout it all.

Over the past decade or so, Xiao had taken to staying at the Wangshu Inn when he wasn’t slaying monsters. The people were nice enough, though he had long given up on attempting to form emotional connections with others. It would only lead to grief, just like it had when he’d lost his love or his fellow Yakshas, and there was only so much grief anyone, mortal or not, could take before their thread of sanity snapped in half. And with his Karmic Debt being as bad as it was…

As Xiao sat at the edge of the balcony of the Wangshu Inn, legs dangling below, he couldn’t help but think of her, his maiden. He wondered if, perhaps, Celestia would give him a third chance and bring her back to him. Honestly, the Adeptus wasn’t sure he wanted a third chance with her. While he did miss the sound of her heartbeat and the sweet words she’d utter to him and only him, he doubted he could bear the pain of having her ripped away from him once again.

It’s as if Celestia was taunting Xiao. As if the Archons above were bored and found some sick amusement in his pain as if his emotions were nothing but a game to them. What other explanations were there for what happened next?

“Um- excuse me, do you mind if I sit here?” An angelic voice he knew far too well, missed far too much, spoke.

Xiao looked up and lo and behold, it was her. Same hair, same eyes, same violetgrass broach.

She stood behind him clutching a plate of something, though the angle wouldn’t allow him to make up what it was. Her face adorned that same anxious smile of hers and he could feel himself falling in love with the maiden all over again. He knew he should say no. He shouldn’t allow her back in, not when he’s already lost her so many times before, not when they’d both suffered so much just by being together.

He nodded before looking away.

He shouldn’t but he would.

“I hope you don’t mind me intruding on your quiet time,” she said softly once she had settled beside him. When he made no indication of answering, she continued, “To be honest, you just seemed so… sad, melancholic even. Something about it, even if I don’t really know you, doesn’t sit right with me. It makes my heart feel heavy.”

The violetgrass maiden received no response, except for a soft grunt of acknowledgment, so small she wasn’t sure she hadn’t imagined it. Still, it was all she needed to perk up and stretch her arms out, offering him the plate she’d been holding.

“Here, I got this for you,” she told him, “word around the streets is you’ve got quite an appetite for it! Though this is my first time staying at the Inn, so I’m not sure if it’s any good here.”

Xiao looked at her, amber eyes filled with love. He was glad to know that, despite living through many lives now, she was still the girl he’d met back then, as sweet as he’d remembered her, just as caring.

He shouldn’t have but he took the plate from her hands and began to eat.

Instead of saying anything, she simply watched him as he ate, a silly little smile making its way to her face. The look on his lady’s face had him growing hot and turning beet red

“So,” he coughed out, embarrassed, “where’d you get a broach like that?”

“Oh, this one?” She inquired, pointing at the shiny violetgrass broach, “I found it lying on the ground one day when I was out picking lotus heads for dinner. I asked just about everyone in Liyue Harbor if it was theirs, but no luck. I eventually decided to just keep it for myself. It is a shame though, whoever lost it must truly be upset over losing such a beautiful piece of jewelry. I’ve never seen anything quite like it.”

He nodded along, thinking that, well, the broach actually was with its owner.

“It’s as if it were fate though,” she prattled on happily, watching the stars as she talked, “Violeygrass is my very favorite, always has been really. Though, I’ve always been too scared to climb up for them myself. You see, ever since I was little, I’ve had this recurring nightmare where I fell to my death while collecting some.”

The Adeptus stilled for a second, tense. She hadn’t ever brought up dreams about her past life. Maybe this time was different, maybe she’d remember what he did!

“Oh my Archons,” she exclaimed, face warm with embarrassment, scratching the back of her head sheepishly, “I’ve been going on and on! I’m so sorry, something about you feels so familiar. It makes me feel like I can tell you just about everything. Is that weird?”

His heart was racing like it hadn’t in years, decades even.

“You can tell me whatever you want,” he answered shortly, “I don’t mind listening. You have a nice voice.”

The maiden covered her hands with her face, flustered, and Xiao let out a rare smile, soft and gentle. This time would be different. He’d make sure of it.

After that day, the maiden began to visit the Wangshu Inn often, whenever she could spare time away from her job. Unbeknownst to her, however, Xiao followed at a distance when she wasn’t visiting him, to ensure her safety. He knew it wasn’t right, truly, but he had no other choice. He had to, or else he’d risk losing her to an accident such as last time, fall ill again, attacked by monsters or, Celestia forbid, be kidnapped by a group of treasure hoarders.

He’d have to get rid of any and all threats.

So, Xiao continued to follow his maiden from a distance, he made sure she was in tip-top shape, and ruthlessly slaughtering all enemies that he deemed a threat to her, until he was certain nothing would take her away from him again.

Except for one threat. Himself.

The third time he’d lost her was on a beautiful night, not that Xiao could remember it well. His love had insisted on the two of them taking a walk. She’d reasoned that the cool night air would help him regain control. His karmic debt had been weighing on him an awful lot recently and she simply couldn’t bear to see him in such excruciating pain.

The walk had started off rather pleasantly, as far as Xiao could remember. He could remember nudging his hand against hers, wanting to hold it but being far too shy to do so. With a laugh and a teasing remark, the maiden interlaced their fingers, bringing up their hands to place a gentle kiss on his, making the tips of his ears redden in bashfulness. They’d walked a little further until they encountered a group of hilichurls accompanied by a pyro abyss mage. Without skipping a beat, Xiao stepped in front of his lover, polearm appearing in his hand.

And then…

Everything went dark. Xiao’s mind was nothing but a void, pain exploded in every inch of his body as his karmic debt returned in full force to punish him for the slaughtering he’d committed.

When he came to, his mind was hazy, unsure of what had occurred. The Yaksha sat up, ignoring the way his muscles protested against it, and looked around, trying to make sense of what had happened and where he was.

Xiao froze when his eyes locked onto her pitiful body laying a few feet ahead of him in the grass surrounded by arrowheads and broken hilichurl masks, blood turning ice-cold. If he ignored the gashes across her body, the ones that were unmistakably made by the bloody spear he was clutching and not some hilichurl club or bow and arrow, and the blood that stained her pretty garments, he could almost fool himself into thinking she was asleep.

This had been his doing.

After a few beats of stunned silence, the dark-haired Adeptus lurched forward grabbing onto her cold body and shaking ruthlessly, calling out her name frantically, as if it would make his love wake up, make her cradle his face lovingly and ask why he’d been crying.

Xiao looked up onto the sky scornfully, looking up at Celestia with nothing short of pure, unadulterated loathing. He was willing to bet they were all mocking him right now, laughing at how weak and pathetic he was, at how time after time, he’d failed to love her enough, to keep her alive. They did this on purpose he was sure of it, those bastards. Well, if they could play dirty like this, so could he. He’d get her back, he’d keep her alive by his side.

And just like that, Xiao’s thread of sanity snapped.

“You can’t take her away from me anymore,” he spoke to the sky nonsensically, “I won’t let you. I don’t care what I have to do, who I have to kill, you won’t take my bliss away from me again.”

“That story was quite depressing,” Chongyun stated, ceasing his footsteps to look to his friend, Xingqiu.

“Ah yes, it is indeed, my liege,” the navy blue-haired gentleman agreed, “However, I’m glad this book included the whole myth, instead of making me wait for the next volume like the last one.”

The light blue-haired boy rolled his eyes before saying, “As much as I appreciated you reading the book aloud, I don’t see how this aids us in our search for (Y/N).”

The reason the boys had been searching across all of Liyue, was because their aforementioned friend had mysteriously gone missing. Everything had been as it normally was until one day, (Y/N) didn’t show up at her job in the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor, something that was incredibly unusual of her, especially without a warning to her boss or coworkers. This led Hu Tao, with the insistence of Zhongli, to ask Chongyun and Xingqiu, two of (Y/N)’s friends, for help in the search for her. They had also contacted the milelith, but they had told them that she’d not been missing for long enough to warrant a search party. The two had, of course, been quick to help, though Xingqiu had been rather enraptured in a book of Liyue Myths, simply insisting he’d have to take it with him so he could read while he searched for her.

“But my liege,” Xingqiu exclaimed playfully, golden eyes shining with mirth, “this story is of utmost importance in our search for our beloved friend. Why, for all we know, (Y/N) might’ve been kidnapped by the Vigilant Yaksha himself! She has always had a habit of climbing mountains to pick violetgrass like the maiden in the book”

“Do not be so ridiculous,” Chongyun said, rolling his eyes, “I doubt an Adeptus such as himself would ever commit such an atrocity of that degree against a citizen of Liyue. Besides, that myth is incredibly old and there’s very little evidence that proves its validity. It’s more likely that (Y/N) was taken by a demon. That is why I asked you to accompany me to Wuwang Hill.”

“I was simply joking Chongyun,” he said with a laugh before turning solemn, “However, regretfully I feel as though it is time for the two of us to return to Liyue Harbor for the day. You’ve just about run out of popsicles and with this heat, I have no doubt you’ll overheat if we keep going.”

“I’m afraid you’re right,” The blue-eyed boy admitted. “I hope (Y/N) is alright wherever she is.”

“I do as well,” Xingqiu agreed, “Perhaps Hu Tao and Zhongli have had more luck.”

Chongyun nodded, “Xiangling also said she’d ask her customers if they’d seen her.”

With that, the two boys made their way back to Lihue Harbor, oblivious to just how true Xingqiu’s joke had been.

Xiao sighed as he climbed up the stairs of Wangshu Inn up to his room. Of course, he did not need sleep, it was a mortal need in and of itself, or a room for that matter but Verr Goldet had insisted that he should have his own space, somewhere he could rest after long days of slaughtering demons such as this one.

The Adeptus turned the door handle, opening the door of an empty, pristine room. While the room had all of the furniture the other Inn rooms had, it still felt unnervingly empty, without any clothes or trinkets laying around. The only personal object of Xiao’s in the room was an orange teapot that rested on the nightstand.

Quickly, Xiao opened the tea pot’s lid, and within seconds he was standing in front of a Liyue style mansion, surrounded by mountains that he crafted to look like the ones from when the two of you had met all those centuries ago. Eager to see you, Xiao ignored Tubby’s greetings and opened the front door, making quick work of taking off his shoes before climbing the stairs to the second floor, where your room was.

He opened the door to find you sat atop your bed, alert and glaring at him fiercely. The Adeptus rolled his amber eyes, it seemed you were still trying to act out and be defiant. Looking around your room, mostly to make sure you hadn’t tried to smash the windows with the desk chair like last time (you seemed to not comprehend the fact that there was no escaping the serenetea pot, since it was a world Xiao himself had created), his eyes settled on the plate of bamboo shoot soup he’d left for you this morning, along with a still filled to the brim cup of water. He narrowed his eyes at that. It simply wouldn’t do. You’d been here for about a week now and you still refused to eat or drink anything he brought you, except for a few nibbles and sips he’d managed to threaten coax out of you. Xiao, admittedly, didn’t know very much about humans, but he did know they needed to eat and drink to stay alive. He’d learned that the hard way on his last few tries.

“Why aren’t you eating?” Xiao inquired before adding, “If you don’t like this food you should come out and say it. I can ask Smiley Yanxiao for something that suits your taste more.”

You let out a poorly suppressed scoff. This nut-job didn’t seem to get that out of all the things wrong in this situation, the last thing you were concerned about was the food. Dear Archons, just what is wrong with this man? First, he had the gall of taking you captive one evening when you were going home from work and now he had the audacity to expect you to act like a complacent little toy and go along with this insanity?

And to think that when you’d first met him whilst accompanying the Traveler and Paimon, who had been commissioned by Director Hu Tao to gather some cor lapis for a client’s ceremony, you’d been absolutely smitten with the awkward and stoic Adeptus. Everything from his pretty black hair to his captivating bright eyes had your knees weak. So much so that you’d ignored all of the red flags, like how he’d stare at you in such an intense manner, with eyes fixated on you and only you, how he seemed to distrust Aether, a trusted friend of his, when it came to him accompanying you, or how as soon as you’d met you had the horrible sensation of being watched at all times of the day. Just thinking back to all the warning signs you’d missed made your skin crawl. Perhaps if you hadn’t been such a lovesick idiot you’d be at home right now or eating dinner with Chongyun and Xingqiu, trying out one of Xianglings crazy concoctions containing slime condensate or whopper flower nectar.

Instead, you were trapped in an artificial world, in a room that looked horrifyingly similar to your own back home.

You were snapped out of your reverie by Xiao moving closer to your bed.

“Let me go home,” you said, hating how your voice cracked at the end. You felt so pathetic, you always prided yourself on being a headstrong independent person, and here you were, cowering at his closeness and avoiding all eye contact, as if looking at his pain filled eyes would ruin you.

“You are home,” he retorted, his voice bordering on delusion, “This is your home. This is where you're safe. Where you stay alive and I get to keep you forever.”

Xiao stretched out his arm, as if to cradle your cheek in his hand but before he got to you flinched away, backing away from him as far as you could, back hitting the headboard. You looked away, trying to ignore how guilty the pain that flashed through his eyes made you feel. You shouldn’t be the one feeling guilty. He should be. He’s the one that stole you away from your home. He’s the one that ruined your life.

You look down at the violetgrass broach clasped onto your blouse in nothing short of complete and utter loathing. You’d been so captivated by it when you’d first found it at the antique shop while window shopping with Mr. Zhongli.

It had been exactly six months since you’d moved away from your home in the sleepy Qingce Village in exchange for a job at the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor and a quaint apparently in the bustling city of Liyue Harbor. To celebrate, your coworker (and the person you had been shadowing in order to learn the ropes of the funeral business) Mr. Zhongli had insisted on going to Third-Round Knockout for some dinner. You’d been a bit hesitant at first, mostly because you knew well of the elegant gentleman’s habit of forgetting his wallet, but you enjoyed hearing his stories far too much to say no. Something about his retellings of stories about the Adepti just enraptured you.

Afterward, the two of you had decided to walk around the city and look at the displays in shops, since you had decided that your hard work warranted splurging a little as a reward of sorts. You had of course asked Mr. Zhongli to join you since he had such exquisite taste and an eye for the authentic, you valued his opinion greatly.

That’s how the two of you ended up at Xigu Antiques, browsing the display case. All of a sudden, your eyes zeroed in on a broach that resembles a little violetgrass plant, its downturned leaves made up of what you could only guess was noctilucous jade. It was, for lack of a better word, stunning.

“Mr. Zhongli,” you exclaimed, tugging at his sleeve to call his attention away from a porcelain teapot with gold little geo symbols as decoration, “what do you think of this one? It’s quite beautiful isn’t it?”

The dark-haired man looked at the broach you were pointing at before going tense, a small gasp escaping him as his beautiful amber eyes widened slightly. You looked at him in concern, you’d never seen the man come this close to losing his composure.

“Oh,” he said, clearing his throat, “is this the one you’re thinking of purchasing? I’d advise against it. Even by just a mere glance, I can tell it is not made of real noctilucous jade.”

Strangely, you felt as though he wasn’t being truthful with you.

“Well, that’s alright. I don’t really care about the authenticity and it’s pretty cheap. If it is a fake, I don’t really have much to lose. Plus, I’ve always loved violetgrass. This broach could be like a little homage to that!” You answered, letting out a little giggle.

“You’ve heard of the Vigilant Yaksha and the violetgrass maiden, am I correct?” He asked.

“Oh, yes I have! My Gran used to tell it to me and the rest of the village children back when I was young. It always made me so sad, how they can never be together. It was pretty silly now that I think about it, but I would bawl my eyes out every time. The rest of the kids would tease me a bit but I just couldn’t control it,” you reminisced.

“I- well, yes in any case, they say that anyone who possesses that broach will be cursed to meet the same fate,” Zhongli added, trying his best to dissuade you from buying the old broach, dread creeping into his stomach as he thought of what might happen to you- to the both of you.

“Of course you’d believe old supersticiones, Mr. Zhongli,” you said, letting out a lighthearted laugh that could make any heart, even one of stone, melt, “it’s very on brand! However, I’m sure there’s no need to be worried, after all, it’s nothing but an old myth! And even if it is real, you yourself said that it’s not made of the real stuff.”

Before Zhongli could figure a way to change the unchangeable, you had already purchased the broach. As you kept on leading the funeral consultant around the streets of Liyue Harbor, bag in hand, prattling on about anything and everything, he couldn’t help but feel his heart sink. A single thought, the same one you would later have, crossed his mind.

If only you hadn’t bought that goddamned broach.

In a fit of anger and desperation, you ripped the detested broach off of your shirt, throwing it at Xiao. You hoped it would somehow break into millions of tiny pieces.

After a beat of silence, Xiao spoke, “Eat.”

“No,” you yelled, before breaking down into a fit of angry sob, “I hate you!”

As soon as the words left your mouth, Xiao lurched forward so close your noses were almost touching, and for a second you think he’s gonna hit you but instead, he simply rests his forehead on yours and closes his eyes. When he pulls away, your sobs have waned into hiccups. Without saying so much as a word Xiao clasps the violetgrass broach onto your shirt, where it belongs.

“Eat,” is all he says, placing the now lukewarm soup into your hands.

Scared, tired, and sad, you do as he said, taking small sips of the admittedly tasty dish. He does nothing more than stare at her with those intense amber eyes of his for a few minutes before turning around and heading towards the door.

Before he leaves he turns his head back to look at her and says, “I don’t care if you don’t like me. Hate me for all I care. As long as you stay alive I don’t care.”

#Xiao x reader #xiao x you #xiao x y/n #genshin impact Xiao x reader #yan! Xiao x reader #genshin impact fanfic #genshin impact fanfiction #Xiao #genshin impact #tw: yandere #flavor: xiao #patt’s creations

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philtstone · 2 years

Note

Steve and Sam. TV.

it took me forever to come up with an idea for this prompt and im so sorry for the wait! even now im not sure if the elements of it that are prompt-related are that strong. i had a lot of fun with the other stuff tho. could technically fit into this verse (but doesn't have to) and the golden age of hollywood captain america biopic starring paul newman and marlon brando is all @firstelevens big brained genius.

"I've seen you on TV though."

"There's a difference. You've seen me on TV, doing other things, that are not being on TV. You've never seen me on TV."

This was a fair point. Sam could count on one hand the number of times he'd personally witnessed Steve Rogers give willing statements to reporters. Those high school PSA things were another matter.

"Okay," Steve had laughed, the tired way they all did those days. "Kick a man while he's down, why don't you. Those don't count."

Sam fades out of the memory in time to the waning loudness of the kitchen. Cass is asking about some school field trip form and Sarah is undoing her headful of braids with Bucky's help. Etta's by the sink playing loudly from someone's iPhone.

"You see someone's hands are in the middle of something Cass, you pick that exact time --"

"I was gonna ask before, Mom, I forgot."

"Baby, get your Uncle to do it."

Sam is staring at his blank laptop screen.

"Hey Uncle Sam."

He looks up.

"Yeah, yeah, c'mon, hand it over. Where are y'all going?"

"Science observatory. They got an exhibit on black holes."

He scribbles down his signature distractedly. "No way? That sounds great, Cass. You excited?"

Cass's grin is sweet and slow-growing like he doesn't wanna show off just how excited he is. Sam pats his shoulder as he runs back upstairs. It's near nine. The outdoor lamps are on. House is still alive though, for all that it's Thursday night. When Sam refocuses Sarah and Bucky are mid-conversation, resumed like whatever Cass needed happened right in the middle.

"-- morality of the man is irrelevant, I said he could get it in that film. I know you agree with me, don't act like you don't, our taste is the same."

"Our taste is not the same --"

"Please."

"Newman is plenty more handsome, and --"

"No!"

"Sam," Bucky says, like Sam has any idea what they're talking about.

"What?"

"Marlon Brando, yes or no?"

"Godfather era?"

"No!" say both of them at once, such complimentary looks of scandal on their faces that Sam can't help but chuckle.

"Streetcar era," says Sarah. "Captain America era."

Oh, Lord.

"I'm convinced you think he's hot just to mock me."

Sarah's oiled fingers twist lightly around a braid that starts behind her ear. "I'd never mock you, sweetness."

"He looks nothing like me!"

"Mmmhmm."

"No ..." drawls Sam, with a slow growing grin. "The biopic?"

"Which Sergeant Barnes here has yet to watch --"

"Ever. Yet to watch, ever. I can't believe Hollywood got the rights to me and Steve's names in the fifties, Jesus Christ."

Sam remembers watching it with Steve. They did it on the nice flatscreen in Steve's new-old DC apartment, and Nat showed up halfway through and uninvited, technically. She brought the good popcorn with her. Old Hollywood, Gold Hollywood Captain America was more of a fun wartime adventure than anything else, and, Sam knows very well now, so far removed from reality it is laughable. Still ...

"Brando's better looking."

"Than Newman?"

"Than you, Barnes."

Bucky makes a very mature face at Sam around the pick comb held in his teeth. Between the two of them, half of Sarah's head is already free, fluffing up and around her ears in the kinky, stretched out way it's wont to. It's less frizzy than Sam's seen it before. He's got a niggling suspicion that vibranium's good for that. Bucky's technique has improved, too -- comfortable, if still exceedingly gentle in a way no titi or grandma would ever be. They're in the middle of the kitchen, anyway.

"Of the two of us," Bucky says sweetly, "I'm the one with a girlfriend."

Okay. Well.

"I will kick your ass, man --"

"Oh my God, both of you shut up," says Sarah, massaging two fingers around her freed temple and dropping a loose piece of hair into the pile. "The takeaway here is, I'm always right about these things."

Though it's a Thursday night, and this a tedious kind of thing, Sarah looks more relaxed than usual. Sam says,

"At least he's not one of those Bridgerton guys she likes."

Sarah's protest is very immediate. "Oh, excuse you! Have you seen --"

"Do not say Regé-Jean Page --"

Bucky is frowning in concentration as he unpicks a particularly tricky knot, but makes the time to say, "Come on, Sam, he's hot."

Sam groans. "Seriously?"

"Sam, objectively, I trust Bucky's taste in men more than I do yours --"

"Because it's the same as yours," Sam says, instinctive, so that Bucky will stop looking so smug,

"-- but all this is irrelevant --"

"We're not circling back to Brando," says Bucky.

"No, we're not, because I was going to say --"

Sam has been around long enough to know exactly where this is going.

"Denzel," he starts, loudly.

"Can get it," finishes Sarah. "Even now --"

"Even now."

"She's not wrong."

Sam has to resign himself on this point. "She's not wrong."

He looks back at his laptop. That biopic, he thinks. What a way to find yourself on TV.

"Before this -- all this. You never thought maybe you could use that, let people hear what you had to say?"

"People hear what they want to hear," Steve had said, in that tiny safehouse in Germany. "Better to show them, I guess. Who would I be going on television for?"

Sam doesn't want to go on TV. Not the Good Morning America kind, anyway -- willing, active, planned. There's a scripted quality that sets his teeth on edge. He's been invited -- two days from now. Angie the publicist was very nice, more respectful than most in her proposal. He'll have to cut his already short visit to Delacroix shorter. He keeps thinking maybe if he can say some stuff on his own terms, it won't be so bad.

His notes app is clean empty, though.

Sarah is laughing over something in front of him. It fades out and he realizes that she's looking right at him.

"Sam. You good?"

He thinks about it. "The Good Morning America gig," he starts. "Don't know if it's a good idea."

"Well," says Sarah. The kitchen smells of her hair oil. "Who'd you be doing it for?"

She says it differently from how Steve had. There's a thump from upstairs.

"Good point," says Sam. He closes his laptop and moves to get up. "You two stay here. I'll go make sure they're in bed."

It's now past nine, after all, and a school night. He hears Sarah and Bucky return to their laughter while he leaves, the kind that dissolves quickly into something else and makes it real obvious they've started kissing. Sighing, Sam goes upstairs to the sight of Cass hooting all sprawled out on the top bunk. He hauls AJ to his feet off the bedroom floor; somehow he's gotten his head into the empty garbage can.

"Bedtime," Sam says, pulling the can off.

"You're still here for another few days, right Uncle Sam?"

He bumps AJ's shoulder with his fist, raising his eyebrows. "You did all your homework tonight?"

"Uh huh."

"Then yeah, AJ. I'm still here another couple days."

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renohasbigtits · 3 years

Note

Could you do the bros trying to woo their comically oblivious crush? Like the boys are trying to drop hints but SO just does not pick up on it unless the boys straight up say something like “I want to kiss you. On the mouth. Romantically.” (I just get a kick out of the “oblivious love interest” because I also don’t understand subtle hints lol)

This is sooo me. I’m Autistic so I miss when people are flirting with me 😅

Also you’d be surprised how many people how already done a Chocobros with a oblivious crush.

I almost denied this request because so many have done it already but why the hell not?

Here we goooo!

Noctis

He doesn’t know how much patience he has left. Your a lot more clueless than he thought...

He’s tried to flirt with you, but you just don’t pick up on them! He’s getting a bit frustrated.

“Is she/he/they doing this on purpose?!” he thinks.

Eventually, He turns to Ignis for help.

Ignis suggests that he should just straight up tell you how he feels.

It takes awhile but he finally builds up the courage to confess to you.

He invites you to his place and you curiously walk inside, unaware of what’s gonna happen.

“Noct... you said that you wanted to talk to me about something, is everything ok?”

Noct thought for a second before starting.

“Y/n...I really like you.”

“Aww! I like you to Noct!”

He annoyingly sighed.

“Seriously?” He said annoyed.

That caught your attention. Why was he annoyed?

“What’s wrong Noct?”

He turned to you and sighed one more.

“I have feelings for you.”

“I-

“I’m IN love with you Y/n.”

You were so shocked. You literally had no idea!

“Noct I-

“It’s fine. I know it’s sudden and probably weird and-

You stopped him mid-sentence and held his arm, tightly and lovely.

“I love you too, Noct.”

Poor baby. Frozen up like a scared kitty.

But it worked, so it was worth it.

“Me too Y/n.”

Prompto

He’s always had a thing for you but you didn’t seem to noticed.

Not like it was completely your fault.

Prompto has a very bad habit of self sabotaging himself, before he can tell you how he feels.

Until today!

He invited you to a photo shoot at the river and you were the model!

You were so excited to be his model but obviously, he planned to confess his feelings to you.

Once you both reached to the river, Prompto awkwardly turned to you and tried to make conversation.

“So uh... pretty weather today eh?”

“Yeah! Perfect day for pictures!” You smiled.

That smile. That smile he fell in love with.

He started blushing hard and you noticed it.

“What’s wrong? Are you feeling ok?”

“Oh uh..y-yeah! I’m just uh damn.” He swerved away. Ashamed that he failed again.

You didn’t understand what was wrong with him but you wanted to help him.

“Hey, what’s wrong?”

“Uhhh..” Oh my god, his face was red as a tomato.

“Listen, I don’t know what’s going on but I want you to know that it’s ok if you want to talk to me to about it. I’m all ears.”

“...”

“C’mon Prompto. Silence isn’t going to make me underst-

“WILL YOU GO OUT WITH ME?” He yelled out.

The sudden confession caught you off guard.

“Uh sorry! F-forget I said anything!” He awkwardly tried to playing it cool. Oh Prompto.

“Prompto.”

“...Yeah?”

You gave him a small peck on his freckled cheek.

“I’d would love to go out with you.”

Ignis

He said he would never fall in love. He dedicated his whole life to Noct. He didn’t need anyone else.

Well that was... until he met you.

You were so delicate. Did everything at ease. Calm and sweet, you were a beam of light.

A beam of light that went into Ignis’s heart. He fell in love.

He tried for so long to keep his feelings under wrap. He didn’t wanna come off as “unprofessional”.

But he couldn’t keep it to himself anymore. True love was a rare thing you see, and it shouldn’t be wasted.

He didn’t wanna lose you.

He made a plan. Make a fancy dinner with your favorite food, drink, and most importantly,

Confess his feelings towards you.

Since he was very aware of your nativity, he thought that a direct approach would help.

You entered his small but nice little apartment, smelling the delicious food cooking.

“Ah! That smells so good!”

Ignis giggled. Your positivity was something he deeply admired about you.

“Why, thank you darling. It’ll taste good as it smells.” He smiled back at you.

20 minutes passed, it was done and your both sat done to eat this wonderful meal.

It was delicious! Every taste was like heaven! You loved it so much.

But one thing was confusing you; what was this for?

Ignis didn’t speak to you much. And when he did, it was professional and monotone.

Tonight was different. He was smiling and seem beaming with happiness.

It was a different side of Ignis. A side that was rare but you were lucky enough to see it.

“Ignis..”

“Yes Y/n?”

“This was such a great meal.” You started “I’ve never had such a great meal until now.”

Ignis nodded contently.

“..But...” That ‘but’ got Ignis’s attention. “But what is this for?”

Although you his face didn’t show much emotion, his eyes does all the talking.

His eyes basically said “There on to me.”

Ignis coughed before saying,

“I made to show my feelings towards.”

“Oh.” You said. Thinking he was just being kind and wanted to share his feelings about you in a ‘friendly’ way.

“Well, thank you for for meal. I’ll be going.”

Ignis’s eyes deepen. “They didn’t get it, did they?!”

Ignis realizing his plan was failing and not waiting to wait anymore, he got in front of the door.

“Y/n. Perhaps I should be more direct.”

“What do you mean? I thought it was-

“I have feelings for you, darling. For awhile, I can’t stop thinking about you.”

“...Ignis..”

“I wanted to show my feelings through food but that didn’t work.” He chuckled a bit. Laughing at his own “failure”.

The realization hit you. The Ignis Scientia was in love with you?

“Ignis I-

“You don’t need to say anything darling. I was-

You interrupted him by giving him a big hug.

Any affection was foreign to Iggy and usually, unwanted. But this was the few exception.

You snuggled to his clothing. It was warm and comfortable.

“I love you Iggy.” You whispered to his chest.

Oh his heart was on fire tonight. His plan was a success.

“I love you too, Y/n.”

Gladiolus

This man was a known womanizer.

Every woman loved him and every man wanted to be him.

Who could blame them? He was strong, had a cool hawk tattoo, beautiful eyes and hair.

But he was also feared.

He looked intimidating. He could fight anyone if he wanted to.

But that’s a front.

Deep down, he’s a gentle giant underneath.

He wanted to love anyone just as anyone else wanted.

You saw the true Gladiolus.

A kind, smart, book reader, strong of course but more than his strength.

That’s what Gladio loved about you. You knew the Real Gladio.

He couldn’t help but fall for you.

But he was frustrated with his lack of progress with you, due to your lack of awareness to his feelings towards you.

He was sure he was so obvious but you mistook as “friendliness”.

He finally had enough and was going to tell you straight up, that he was in love with you.

“Y/n!” He called to you.

“Oh hi Gladly! What can I do for you today?”

“I love you.”

“Aww.” You touched. Gladio was never known to say ‘I love you’ especially to the people that were closest to him. “I love you to!”

“Really?!” He said suprised even that didn’t work!

“What?”

“You don’t get it do you?”

“What? What’s up?”

“I’m in love with you!” He looked at you with a little smirk seeing your shocked and embarrassed face.

“I didn’t know.” You whispered.

“I thought I was being kinda obvious!”

You stood there awkwardly and having a hard time looking into his eyes.

You felt embarrassed for not knowing sooner.

Gladiolus smugly said “it’s ok, just say you’ll go on a date with me.”

You giggled. His blunt humor seemed to calm your nerves.

“I would like to go on a date with you, Gladio.”

A/N: This is different eh? I want to try something new.

Hopefully you like it!

Also sorry this took so long! Depression is a real bitch :/

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