#i like the idea of her being small and darkly-sweet to people who love her and then also like

[arabellasleopardcoat]

Bouquet of Violets (Aemond Targaryen x Reader)

Summary: You are happy in your marriage, even if your husband can be quite hellish. It all starts to go wrong when a secret admirer shows up.

Warnings: Angst! Fluff! All the feelings! And yeah, mature language and topics. Canon character death (Not Aemond)

A/N: Hopelessly romantic (delusional) reader! meets Aemond. Based on a song I grew up listening. The girls that get it, get it.

Aemond, unlike you, remembers the first time the two of you met. You wore your hair down, back then. It cascaded down your back in the ways girl's hair often did before they flowered, unstyled and wild.

You must have been nine, or ten years old. He was twelve and having a temper tantrum, hiding in the corners near the throne room. Your father was in an audience with King Viserys, while you and your mother explored the Red Keep. Aemond had never found out what the meeting was about, nor did he care.

Your mother was dressed in brightly colored robes, matching your father’s. You were still dressed in the frocks of childhood. Your small, bony shoulder, had hit him right on the ribs as your mother walked you down the hallway, and Aemond had been ready to give you the tongue lashing of your life. Yet, something had halted him.

When you had bumped into him, you had raised your gaze, to meet his. Back then, he didn’t wear the eye patch, the scar tissue too raised to do so. Instead of flinching back at the gruesome sight of the marred flesh, as most people did, you had offered him a kind smile.

“I apologize. I didn’t mean to.” Your sweet smile lit up your whole face. You were not the prettiest girl he had ever seen, all awkward limbs and missing a tooth. But you were the kindest. As you fell back into step with your mother, clutching your doll, Aemond could not help but be charmed by you.

So many years have passed that Aemond does not recall what your mother and you were talking about. What he does recall are another two things: First, that you were sheltered. You referred to a pet of some sorts as your friend. Second, you were clearly hung up on the notion of marriage.

Later, he would realize that The Stranger had not touched your family yet. While you might have been familiar with the notion of death, as many children were, but had not fully grasped the troubles of mortality. That was why you were concerned over the thought of what would happen to your pet when you married.

Your mother replied something along the lines of them going with you, but the doubt was clear in her tone. She was uncertain about the prolonged longevity of your childhood companion.

Sometimes Aemond thinks of how much you must have wept when they passed. The idea of you being so distraught over something you loved makes his heart ache in a weird way.

Darkly, he thinks of how you will react once he is dead. He knows his chance of surviving this are low, especially now. Will he merit as many tears as your pet did?

The words your mother last spoke before the two of you disappeared down the hallway were forever etched in his memory.

“The man who loves you will respect everything you love and hold dear. Remember that.”

You came to him with no pet. But he would have taken in an entire farm if you had.

The next time the two of you had crossed paths, Aemond had liked you even more. You were beautiful. Having long left behind the styles of childhood, your hair was worn up as a proper lady. It made it easier to admire your eyes, magnetizing and intelligent.

You were fond of reading and writing. When he saw you again, your nose was buried into a book. It was not philosophy, or history, or any useful subject, really. You read love stories, fairy stories and all sorts of things. Literature and poetry and children’s tales all rolled into one.

It was your mother, who encouraged that passion of yours. Despite being married to a man who was much older than her, and less educated, she had found happiness in him. She looked at the world in a rather unique way. One you had inherited.

You had been taught to read at an early age. According to your mother, education was the greatest equalizer between men and women, even if she didn’t voice it around your father. He didn’t know his letters very well, and so, had little clue about what books you choose to bury your nose in. If he had known, he would have disapproved.

Most men would have, truly. No one wanted young maidens to get unrealistic ideas about how marriage was supposed to go. Yet, when Aemond himself had the chance to put a stop to it, he found himself unable to.

If Aemond was to be honest with himself, he would have said he enjoyed it. The way your face would get all dreamy, your sighs so sweet, as you progressed on your reading and imagined a love like the ones in your books. Perhaps it had been the reason, in some misguided attempt to appeal to that side of you, he started doing this.

Your second meeting, which you thought had been the first, had not been due to chance. When Aemond was told it was time to marry, the choice came to your family or the Baratheons. He had never been one to protest his duties, no matter how opposed he was to it. But on this, he put forth his own selfish conditions. Aemond would marry you and no one else.

His mother had had to insist to your parents, unwilling to give up their precious daughter in times of political unrest. It was no secret to anybody that upon the death of King Viserys, things could turn ugly. It made your family wary of marrying you to Aemond.

Never before had he cursed his parentage so much. By then, Aemond had not seen you in years, but he knew you were the only choice for him. Kind and unafraid at ten, you could have only grown into a wonder.

And you did. The more he gazed at you, during that second encounter, the more he discovered. Unfortunately, Aemond had not been taught how to speak with maidens, much less one he wanted so badly.

Unused as his lips were to speaking kind words or flowery speech, he found himself in absolute terror of doing or saying the wrong thing. When he had wanted something in the past, he simply commanded it. Aemond was not used to wanting to keep a woman, but he guessed it took more effort than that.

His mother berated him all the way home. In his fear of his words upsetting, he had ended up not saying anything at all.

“You picked her yourself, Aemond, and barely showed excitement over it. The poor girl must think you hate her.”

And you probably did. Aemond could tell that you felt your encounters were awkward, but you slowly started getting used to him. What charmed him the most had been that never once you were afraid.

It ended up becoming a routine. Sort of a play date, but for adults. Set up by your hopeful parents, you would meet each other weekly and sit in silence. Each time, you would walk in with a pep in your step, wearing pretty gowns and smiling.

You would try to engage him in conversation, but he felt too self-conscious for it. It didn't phase you. You suffered through exactly two rounds of awkward conversation before starting to bring books. Sometimes, they were two, one for him and one for you. But his favorite times were when you brought only one and read aloud to him.

You had a very pleasing voice. You pronounced your words carefully, and in an even tone. And you would always ask for his opinions on the chapter when you finished. It made conversation much easier.

Any other woman would feel unhappy at having to go through such efforts. Astoundingly, not you. Overall, you seemed happy, and it puzzled Aemond to no end. Asking you had not proven very enlightening either.

“Of course I am happy.” And you had given him a smile so bright, he was convinced you were not actually your parent's daughter, but rather, the daughter of some old god of the light. “We are a good match. We like books. And you are a Prince, good with the sword, and very learned. Why wouldn't I be happy?”

Practical. No matter how romantic the books you read, or how magic the stories you enjoyed, your answer had been purely practical. You deserved more. A loud love story, like the ones in your books, and not a quiet life, spent in the shadows of a man who could barely pay her a compliment.

You gave a little spin, awed at the way your skirt moved and spread. It was the softest cloth you had ever felt, in cream and gold. Queen Alicent had gifted it to you along with many other pieces for your trousseau. You were to marry a Prince, and so, no expense was spared in updating your garments and linens.

What an honor it was, to have such a caring mother-in-law. Having witnessed the poor relationship between your mother and grandmother, you were thrilled over it. You had heard Queen Alicent had asked for you specifically, believing your temper to be a good match for her son. Since the announcement of the betrothal, she had been nothing but doting, if a bit overly worried about his treatment of you.

And Prince Aemond. You truly had no complaints. He was a tad too stoic for your liking, but he was never unkind to you. Despite the rumors about his fearsome character, you had found him to be very handsome.

Your first impression of Aemond was that he was tall. He was all long vertical lines in black and white. A study in contrasts, if you wish. One that, were you an artist, would have your hands itching for some coal. The only pop of color was his eye, a pale blue that shone on his handsome face.

He lacked the boyishly handsome features most men your age had. Instead, much like art, he was divisive. The eye patch that should lessen his appearance, only contributed to his uniqueness. There was something in the way he smiled, too. Something that hinted to something darker, dormant under the surface.

It was both attractive and intimidating. His stoic, aloof nature reminded you a lot of the leading men of the books you read. Your knowledge of that sort of man, through literature and observation, hinted to you that your betrothed must be more than met the eye.

What sort of passions and secrets must be hiding under his cool facade? You could not wait to find out. You imagined growing old with him, slowly learning his secrets and tells, just like your mother had done with your father.

The story of your parents' betrothal and marriage was one you knew well. As a child, you asked to hear it every night before bed. Your mother had been engaged to him being quite young, while he was already a man. He had been patient with her, but not very affectionate. Slowly, she had worn down his defenses, and gained his trust. It had taken years, with your father being a very gruff man. But they were the most loving couple you had ever met.

You yearned for something like that. A love that was built on mutual respect and trust, something that grew with you and filled your house with children and laughter. And with Aemond, you could not help but think that it would be possible. Wasn't he, too, a cold man who treated his bride kindly but never with affection?

You smiled at your reflection. You made a lovely bride if you said so yourself. Eyes full of hopes and expectations for your future marriage and the family that you would soon start, face glowing in happiness. One day, you said to yourself, as your Lord Father came to escort you towards the Sept, I will tell this story to my daughter.

Prince Aemond waited for you at the altar. It was a small gathering, your wedding. There were his siblings, mother, and grandfather and your parents. Your stomach tightened up in nervousness and excitement. You hoped he found you as beautiful as you found him.

When his eyes met yours, he gave you a small little smile. Secret, and barely there. You felt tears starting to well up in your eyes. You were so nervous, but so happy. This was the beginning of your new life, you could feel it.

You finally reached him. Aemond seemed startled at your tears, his hands coming to clasp yours almost in instinct. You gave him a bright smile. How kind, your betrothed was. He might have trouble expressing it, but for this, no words were needed.

You could see your nerves reflected on his face. Your hands squeezed harder. Aemond mimicked the gesture. There was a sense of understatement there that had previously been absent from your encounters. During the whole ceremony, neither of you let go or stopped looking at the other. As he leaned in to kiss you, you met him halfway.

This kiss had featured in your dreams for quite a while. As a young girl, when your lessons with your Septa got particularly boring, you daydreamed about the day you would marry. In your head, it was always perfect, and the kiss felt magical. You were a bit embarrassed to admit it, but once you met Aemond, your daydreams turned a bit less innocent.

The kiss fulfilled one of your fantasies, and left the other lacking. Aemond gently cradled your face in his hands and kissed you, very tenderly. His lips felt slightly dry, but he kept his motions gentle and sweet. It was a perfect as your childhood self had imagined, with the guests even clapping at the end. Unfortunately, it was just as innocent.

Considering that, and the fact that Aemond had demanded there not to be a bedding ceremony, you had correctly guessed your wedding night would be spent on your own.

The consummation of your marriage would be a challenge in itself. Aemond didn’t seem too keen on touching you with a ten-foot pole, and you weren’t sure of how one should bring up the topic.

Despite it, you were happy. Your only task was hanging on his arm at important feasts, which were few and far in between. His father’s declining health meant there was little to celebrate.

Your days often went without even seeing your husband, but you were never lonely. There were gardens to be walked, and books to be read. There were even tiny, blonde children, that you could chase around in the gardens and tickle. They were not yours, but Princess Helaena's and Prince Aegon's, yet they shared the striking silver hair your husband had. Looking at them, tiny sticky hands and still smelling like babies, you could imagine the future with your husband.

You could spend hours playing with them, or having tea with the Queen. You enjoyed trailing after her, she was always very kind. Frequently, you wondered how she and Aemond could be so alike yet so different.

The only thing that broke your routine were the times Aemond requested your presence.

“Milady.” Your handmaid said, stepping lightly inside your chambers. “The Prince has requested that you go to him.”

Instantly, dread and excitement pooled in your stomach. As a young lady, you were both fearful of the act and excited by it. Too often, you had heard it was something hurtful, but that it marked the change into womanhood. When Aemond called, you couldn’t help but wonder if this was the night he made you a woman.

You rushed to take out a nightshirt from your trousseau. You had separated them into three categories. There were ones that you wore nightly, others that were slightly bigger that were saved for an eventual pregnancy, and the ones that were for Aemond. Those were the prettier ones that your Lady Mother had purchased to help you entice your husband.

It was always one of the latter that was chosen. You hated not being prepared, so you always made sure to look pretty and be clean. Just in case. It had not happened yet, but it didn't mean it never would.

Your handmaid aided you to put your robe on, followed by your slippers and a thick cloak. The Red Keep, despite being inhabited by dragons, was always cold. Your handmaid always walked you to his chambers, and this night was not the exception.

She left you at his door, after you were announced. Aemond himself opened his door, welcoming you inside.

You had gotten better at not staring at him. Despite his state of undress, in only sleep pants and his hair down for once, he was a delight for the eyes.

“My lady.” He kissed your cheek. The door closed after you. He aided you out of your cloak. “I was hoping you would read for me tonight.”

You tried not to let your disappointment show on your face. Aemond, as if sensing your mood, merely shoved a book in your hands. He didn’t even offer you a seat, but you took one on the bed anyway. By the weight of the book, you would be here a while.

“On a far away land, whose name I am unable to recall…” Aemond settled down on the bed next to you, eye closed. You didn’t understand why he did this sort of thing, but you weren’t bothered by it either. It was a small price to pay for all the luxuries you got to enjoy.

Despite ending up with a sore throat, it was fun too. He picked the books now, in a stark contrast to the days when you had been a couple courting. And as a man, Aemond had access to many more books than you had. You had recently started making your way through some chivalry tales, with a lot more blood than you were used to.

It was enough for you. Perhaps he was not very affectionate, but he clearly enjoyed your company. Why else would he keep summoning for something as menial as reading books?

You settled into a comfortable routine, grounded by the rhythms of court life. For a while, everything was extraordinarily normal. It was not until you were three months into marriage with the Prince that things started to get weird.

It was the ninth day of the tenth moon of the year, and the date felt slightly ominous. There was a restless energy in the air, something unusual. Perhaps, it was you. As of late, you had been feeling a bit blue. The lack of letters from your family and the twins starting their lessons had left you with more spare time than you thought you would have.

Deciding to go have a bath to try to shake that restless energy from you, you headed toward your rooms. When you entered, the first thing you noticed was the smell. It was strong and floral like, permeating the surrounding air. Your maids used sweeter smells for your rooms, on the Queen’s advice. They were the sort of smells that Aemond favored, and so, she had hoped surrounding you with them would endear you to him.

Then, you saw them. It was a big bouquet of violets, laying on top of your bed. Delighted, you ran towards them. You were unable to resist the urge to smell them, breathing in their scent. This close, you noticed they were slightly bluer, closer to dark blue than purple.

You toyed with their petals, wondering where they could have come from. Perhaps your husband? Aemond was not very inclined towards romantic gestures, but there was no other explanation for it.

You were nearly bursting in excitement to see him. The flowers had been such a kind gesture, you could not help but feel a wave of affection. But no matter how much you wished for it, you had seen nor hide nor hair of Aemond.

Denying it was stupid on his part. Aemond will not protest against it. But what else could have he done? He had panicked. It's not like he meant to do so.

His mother held a weekly meal with all her children, and had taken to including you. Having often berated him about his treatment of you, it was not surprising that she had decided to take you under her wing.

Aemond did feel a bit guilty over his own coldness, but he wasn't really sure how he ought to behave. Apart from his sister and uncle, he had not seen many loving pairs during his life, and anyone would agree that Rhaenyra and Daemon should never be held up as examples of anything.

You were lonely, as of late. The twins had gotten old enough for lessons, and so, they had limited time to play with you in the gardens. You were far enough from home that the letters took a few days to reach you, too. As a young woman, almost too young to be forced to leave everything you knew behind, isolation must have been taking its toll.

Let's not forget you were not only two years his junior, but also a woman. You were of a fragile disposition, with your constant daydreaming and romantic thoughts. Aemond ought to have been paying more attention, but his mind had been busy elsewhere.

His father looked more and more close to death with each day that passed. His grandisre was constantly plotting. Without needing to be a seer, Aemond knew that things were not looking good. There would not be a peaceful reign for Rhaenyra.

He had been so caught up on his worries and duties, that Aemond had forgotten to take care of his woman. Aemond had not summoned you to his rooms that week, too wired to project the calm you would need in the days that would come. You would not do well if a war broke out.

Aemond had been quite lacking on his duty of taking care of you. Pretty little flower that you were, he could almost see you starting to wilt. You spent more time indoors, and stopped your daily walks in the gardens.

Despite fairness being regarded as a desirable trait for a lady, Aemond did not like the way your skin had lost its sun kissed glow. It just didn't fit you. Blue was more of his thing than yours, gorgeous golden woman that you were.

Hence, the flowers. Choosing the violets was an impulse. Aemond liked the colors and the smell was tolerable yet distinctive. He would know immediately when you received them, being able to smell them on your hair and clothes.

Sweet natured as you were, you had thanked him for them. The fact that you had liked them and associated them with him had been enough to warm his heart. The fact that you had decided to do so during the dinner with his siblings, enough to stomp on it.

It had not been quiet enough.

“Aemond?” Aegon frowned. “Aemond gave you flowers?”

Knowing his brother as he did, Aemond knew he was struggling hard to contain his laughter. He had been the butt of the joke too many times to confirm or deny anything. He would rather not be embarrassed in front of you.

But in truth, the idea of being weak, of being mocked, was not one that scared him. He had been humiliated many times during his childhood. What bothered him more was the thought of his feelings for you being exposed in such a manner. He was not prone to sudden bursts of affection, or doing thoughtful things for those he loved.

Aemond preferred to love in silence. There was no need for grandiloquence, or big gestures. Marriage was a sacred thing, between husband and wife. It was not something that had to be shared loudly. His love was spoken quietly, in the same way he had been taught to.

His mother loved quietly. His grandsire did, too. Their eyes spoke when their lips did not, their love a discordance with the words out of their mouths. Aemond had grown like that, loved but never told, learning it as a secret language that tied them all.

The flowers, though. The flowers had been a betrayal of their code. Something they would not understand because while everyone in the Red Keep was fluent in the art of loving and not saying a word, you were not. You were a foreigner, with your tales of romance and princess from a far away land.

This had been Aemond, clumsily speaking your language. Shy about it, as many people were when speaking one that was not theirs for the first time. It was hard. It was private, and certainly not something he wanted to be outed in front of Aegon, who would not know love for his wife if it hit him in the face.

His expression must have been deadly because Aegon had started squirming on his seat like his pants were on fire. Your face had fallen, turning into a terrible, sad thing, that made something funny to his heart.

“It wasn’t you. Of course.” Your voice was softer still. Aemond continued eating his dinner without a word. Because really, what could he say? Anything that he did now would be mocked by Aegon.

The way your face had fallen, brows pinching together in a sad little frown, had haunted him later. He wanted to fix things, but was unsure how. You were not used to his brusque manner and speech. Aemond felt it might do more harm than good, if he were to speak with you. He might end up offending you more without noticing.

Besides, how did one even start to explain that he had denied tacitly to gifting you flowers fearing not being understood and mocked? He would sound like a fool.

Instead, he had penned you a note. Instead of apologizing, Aemond had hoped to butter you up with a few compliments. You must have realized it, then, because you had walked the whole day as if floating in a cloud.

Come the ninth day of the next moon, you had nearly forgotten all about the incident. You had thrown away the flowers before they even had a chance to wilt, and the note had been burned to a crisp in your fireplace. You had convinced yourself having a secret admirer was improper for a married woman, and refused to give it more thought.

It was a bit strange, that your husband was not angered by it. Yet, at the same time, you supposed he was thankful for your discretion over the entire affair. Aemond was very sensible and smart, so it was logical he wouldn't blame you.

Aemond had kept summoning you to his chambers, be either for you to read to him or just to sit in silence. Your happiness persisted. Until your breakfast’s tray was set on your vanity.

You noticed it when you were sipping at your tea. Groggily, and confused, you found a piece of paper under your napkin. On a neat handwriting, there was a quote from one of the poetry books you favored.

You gave a tiny gasp. Your hands clenched on the paper, your cheeks heating up. The penmanship was not one you recognized, but the words made your knees nearly buckle. No one had written you sonnets before.

Ninth day, you realize. Same as the flowers. If not your husband, then who? The idea of the secret admirer came back, stronger this time. The dates could not be a coincidence, this had to be the same person. Ninth day of the ninth moon, then ninth day of the ten.

You started over analyzing each interaction you had with men. When the knights opened the doors for you, your eyes would linger on theirs. When a Lord would greet you, you would try to remind if he had something to do with violets.

You found yourself daydreaming of this man. Would he be an older man? Would he be prone to smiling, or would he share the stoic nature of your Prince? How would his hands feel on your skin? All the daydreaming made you feel guilty, for fantasizing about a man who was not your husband. Yet, at the same time, you knew that you would not act on it. You loved Aemond too much.

It was flattering, to be wanted in such a manner. You liked the idea of it because it was different from the love you were used to. But you would rather not meet the admirer, knowing you would have to reject him. You enjoyed the attention, not the person it came from.

There was only one person in Westeros that you wished would lavish you with attention and love. And you knew already he was not your secret admirer.

Secretly, sometimes, you thought of telling Aemond. What would his reaction be? The thought made butterflies flutter in your stomach. Would he get jealous? Would he turn more affectionate? You imagined he would want to claim you in some way.

Alone, at night, you pictured his eye, narrowed in anger. Those hands, gripping harshly at your hips, leaving bruises. His body over yours, his lips on your throat, your chest, your stomach. Your hands would follow the path that the imaginary Aemond's hands would take, caressing and groping until they reached their destination. You would arouse and tease yourself until you reached your peak, a scream of his name dying in your throat.

The wondering does not last to meet a third moon. No, because King Viserys passes away and Prince Aegon is crowned King. The whole Red Keep is in a state of disarray, and you feel oddly fearful, watching the constant movement the family seems to be in.

Even Queen Alicent, usually so kind and calm, is on edge. She seems on the verge of a neurotic episode, pacing frantically around the halls, muttering to herself. You can't help but feel something bad is about to happen.

Your husband is in a terrible mood. He seems to have a constant headache, and so, you have taken to being even more kind to him. Some nights, he will summon you to his chambers. He keeps asking you to read to him, but you can tell his mind is far away.

You try grounding him, placing your hand on his thigh or shoulder every chance you get. If you were more confident, you would try something more bold. Aemond seems to enjoy your touch, but he doesn't encourage you to do it. His face remains unmoved, and he keeps telling you to keep reading.

His only tell is that he always reciprocates. If your hand is on his shoulder, his goes to your hip. If you touch his back, Aemond caresses your hair.

It leaves you feeling a bit out of balance. It's entirely innocent, as if you were two children discovering love. Yet at the same time, you can't help but feel like you are burning up in your need for him.

He starts requesting for you to stay the night with him. Aemond never touches you beyond holding you to him, body pressed close to yours in a long, vertical line. Sometimes, you wake up to his manhood prodding you from behind, but he promptly excuses himself out of the bed you share. It makes your thighs clench up in need.

It's unbearable. You feel like you are going insane, your center pulsating in need each time you are near him. The simplest touches can set you on fire. You decide to be bolder, soon. You can't keep this state of affairs.

Before you can explore this new side of your connection, Aemond is pulled away. A mission for the King, he explains. You stay behind, feeling restless. Not having been told what his mission involved, nor where he was going, you can't help but worry. Aemond had taken Vhagar, and that, at least, gives you a slight sense of safety. You were familiar enough with his mount to know she could be his fiercest protector if she felt someone was threatening.

You spend your hours praying for his safe return, along with the Queen. While not part of the Small Council formed around Aegon, but you imagine quite well what they discussed. Alicent is as scared as you are.

You go to bed late that night. With Aemond away, you can't sleep, already used to his body pressing against yours. You had hoped exhaustion would help you overcome that problem.

It's even later when heavy footsteps and the slamming of a door rise you. In the dark, you can barely make out a silhouette. A tall man, holding a dagger.

You scream. The man grabs you roughly by the shoulders and pushes you to lay down on the bed. This close, you can feel that his clothes are strangely humid, as if dried in a rush. You had not considered it before, but the letters and violets do not seem so romantic anymore. Instead, they scare you. You find yourself faced with the possibility that this man might this be your secret admirer. Has he felt encouraged by your happiness? Is he dangerous?

There is a heavy candleholder on your nightstand. You reach for it in the dark, and swing at his head. The man yelps. You start to struggle against him. His tone is familiar to you.

“Seven Hells.” He curses. It's then that it hits you. This is Aemond. Aemond is back. You don't get to rejoice on it, or pull him to you, though. He keeps speaking, in a confused tone. “You… I… I made a mistake.”

Aemond gets up and away from you. His clothes still reek of humidity and sadness. You remain there, laying on your stomach, as you feel an uncontrollable urge to cry. There is something inside you that has been rattled until it broke, something that tells you that this Aemond is not your Aemond.

The next morning, you find out he has killed Lucerys Velaryon. Instead of going to his mother or grandsire, he had come straight for you. Aemond had been trying to forget on your skin, lose himself in you.

When you see the violets covering every inch of your room, bouquets over your bed, on your vanity and even the windowsill, your eyes sting. It's bittersweet to realize that, now that you look at them, their color is surprisingly close to a sapphire.

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Dividers by yours truly. Por supuesto que la canción era Ramito de Violetas. Grande Zalo Reyes.

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[druidscraft]

19, faelan for the fantasy ask?

What scent would fill the air to hint that you’re near?

some black teakwood with notes of strawberry and honey, something creeping over the edge of others' consciousness; it's wild but not too wild, something that just says please pay attention to me, i'm here, even if you won't notice me, but i'd really like it if you did, something that makes the back of the throat water but whether it's for sweet words or fear of what will happen, is up to you ✨🪞🍓

send me a fairytale ask !

#inbox #the-lakes-of-perxion-x52 #dnd: fáelán #she's a cutie!!!!!! #and v powerful and we love that for her #i like the idea of her being small and darkly-sweet to people who love her and then also like #she's cute but babygirl a little bit fucked up!!! to people she don't know!!

[ladydaemon]

SICK DAYS

kaz brekker x female! reader

A/N: Yes, I realize how cliché and very non-Kaz this is. I tried my best guys, but I am in the mood for fluff and only fluff so yeah.

Summary: After a night in the rain, Y/N has a cold and it's up to Kaz to take care of her, a difficult task indeed.

Warnings: swearing, really horrible writing, not proofread writing, just me spitting out Words™ at three in the morning

Dangerous assassins do not need sick days.

It was an extremely hypocritical thought, and Y/N knew it. She thought the thought anyway, because at this point, there seemed to be no aspect in her life that was not fueled entirely by spite.

"Please, for the love of the Saints, go to sleep, Y/N," Inej begged, forcing the woman back onto the bed. "You are sick. You need rest."

"I do not need rest, I need caffeine and waffles," the wheezing woman replied stubbornly, trying to get past Inej, who was blocking the doorway of her room. The Slat, usually thundering with noise and chatter, was silent as the grave - it was one of the rare days in Ketterdam where it was sunny, and everyone was either out enjoying the weather or enjoying pickpocketing someone who was enjoying the weather. "I am a grown-ass woman who also happens to be very good at using the bang-bang machines we call guns so please move aside, I need fresh air."

It was arguably entirely Y/N's fault that she was stuck inside in the first place - first, she had stayed out in the rain too long, despite Kaz's numerous protests. Second, she had, in a grave act of stupidity, gone down for breakfast the next morning. Normally, this would not have been a problem. However, on this particular day, her eyes were red and swollen and itchy and her lungs hurt and it was generally very obvious that she had a cold.

These were the deciding factors which led to her ultimate demise:

House arrest.

Though the fact that she was notorious for her spontaneous, impulsive, reckless, throw-caution-to-the-wind nature (along with the fact that Kaz, from multiple bad experiences he would rather not repeat, knew that she had nearly no self-preservation skills) probably had something to with it.

Also she apparently needed a chaperone. Which was probably a good idea, but Y/N wasn't about to admit that anytime soon.

"You are seventeen and you have a window, darling," the smooth voice of one Kaz Brekker, the devil himself, interrupted Y/N's feeble excuse of an escape.

"But Kaz," Y/N whined, pouting. Inej gave the man an exasperated look as if to say, See what I've been dealing with?

"Darling, you'll only have to stay here longer if you don't try and get better."

"Still."

Kaz, lips twitching in a very non-Kaz way, turned to Inej. "You can go. I suppose I'll play nursemaid."

The Wraith chucked darkly, already stepping out Y/N's window. "Good luck with that."

As soon as she had climbed out the room and was well out of earshot, Kaz turned on his heel and walked out. Y/N, thoroughly confused, took a second to contemplate whether this act was meant that she was officially free, or that she was supposed to follow him. Her question was answered a moment later when he called out, not sparing her a backwards glance, "Are you coming?"

She sighed dejectedly, following him up the stairs to hid room. With a flamboyant and smug bow, he opened the door for her. "Ladies first."

She rolled her eyes at him but entered the room nonetheless. Kaz closed the door behind him and strode heavily to his desk, taking the time to shuffle and order some papers. Y/N stood awkwardly in the middle of the room, unsure as to what in the hell she was supposed to do. Kaz flicked his eyes up to her and jerked his head towards the black-sheeted bed that occupied almost a fourth of the room.

She stared at it for a moment. "You want me to sleep. On your bed. While you watch." It came out more an incredulous statement than a question.

"Sorry to break it to you, but I can't devote all my time to taking care of you, and I also can't leave you alone unsupervised while ill. This is our compromise," Kaz explained somewhat impatiently.

"I am not going to get in that crusty-ass bed, that, in case you have forgotten, belongs to my boss, AKA you. For all I know you sleep nude."

One of Kaz's eyebrows twitched. "The sheets were changed this morning. And for the record, I don't."

"Still not going to do it. That takes the creepy-o-meter to like, a thousand."

"You're a criminal who spies on brothels. This is nothing."

"Still not doing it. This feels fundamentally wrong."

"I'll buy you a nice dagger if you just shut up and get in the damn bed." Saints, he was already exasperated, and he had barely been here five minutes. A new respect for Inej found its way into his being.

Y/N went quiet for a minute, considering. "One of the serrated ones with the fancy gilded handles?"

"Whatever dagger your heart desires."

"Two daggers and a gun."

"One dagger and a gun."

"Deal," Y/N decided, plopping down on the bed. It still felt wrong, but she did need a new dagger - Wylan had blown hers up in a previous job.

She carefully peeled the pristine sheets and blankets away from the mattress, half expecting a dozen poisonous things to pop out. The only thing it released was the strangely comforting smell of wood oil and ink (and a bit of gunpowder, but this was Kaz Brekker we're talking about).

Y/N slipped beneath the covers, her head resting comfortably on the cloud-like pillows.

I bet this bitch sleeps like a baby every night.

"I can still beat your ass, Brekker," she mumbled. Yeah, she was sick, but she also had a reputation to uphold.

"On a regular day, I have no doubt about it. Currently, you are prohibited from doing anything that isn't sleeping, peeing, or contemplating life. Doctor's orders."

"Well, I'm going to go pee then. More freedom." She attempted to stand up from the surprisingly soft bed but the in the second it took for her to try and stand, Kaz, moving surprisingly quickly for a man with a cane, pinned her to the bed by her shoulders with an exasperated sigh.

"Just stay still. Please," he breathed.

"Get me a sweet bun and maybe," she breathed back, but didn't move. Despite her almost child-like demeanor, she was one of the original Dregs, here as a child even before Kaz. He had been the only one her age when he had joined, so naturally, she had befriended him (well, as much as you can befriend Kaz Brekker). She knew about his phobia of touch, and how much it meant that he was touching her, even with his gloves on.

Kaz released her with a sigh and stalked over to his desk where he rummaged around for a bit until he produced a small tin that looked abut as old as he was. He tossed it at her and she grabbed it, opening it to see some biscuits that looked as hard as rocks. "That's all I have, and all you're going get. Don't break a tooth."

Y/N sighed, staring at the biscuits mournfully before taking one out of the tin and gnawing on it. It would have been easier to bite on the barrel of one of Jesper's guns. "You're mean."

"You're acting like a petulant child."

Y/N made a disgruntled noise from the back of her throat, sinking back into the silk pillows and wrapping the blankets tighter around her. She had made no visible mark on the cookie, and had only succeeded in covering it with slobber. She put it back in the tin and noticed Kaz wrinkle his nose at her.

She doubted the biscuits would ever see the light of day again.

She watched Kaz do his paperwork, a surprisingly interesting thing to do. He had taken off his hat and jacket, and rolled up his sleeves. He even took his gloves off, preferring to use a pen without the ridiculous slipperiness of the leather. The papers shuffled in a soothing rhythm, and soon, Y/N began to feel less cooped up and a bit more relaxed.

Ever since she had been taken away from her family and thrown onto the tiny slaving ship, Y/N had always had a touch of claustrophobia (well, it was a bit more than a touch, but she wasn't willing to admit that just yet). The tiny room with a mattress on the flooor was really just a decoration at this point - she slept on the roof most nights and every waking hour was in Ketterdam, simply walking if there were no pockets to be picked.

Drowsily, she watched as Kaz scratched something out on paper, his face creasing ever so slightly. The pen made a nice sound, she found, and paired with the strangely calming scent of his room and the rustling of papers, it made her feel almost like it was rainy day, the kind where you curled up by the fire and read a book or cuddled with someone.

"I doubt staring at my face will help you fall asleep, love," Kaz noted without looking up from his work.

"Your face is the most interesting thing here."

For the barest fraction of a second, Kaz looked like he had short-circuited. The moment was gone as soon as it came, however, and he simply raised an eyebrow at her. "You're very immature sometimes."

"Thanks!" Y/N said cheerfully. "It was the trauma."

"Trauma hardens people, it doesn't make them softer," Kaz dismissed.

"I agree wholeheartedly. However, there's a difference between an excellent mask and incompetence," she replied. "Now come over here and show what's bothering you, I can see it on your face."

Kaz looked up at her, noting the fact that she probably wouldn't shut up unless he did as she asked. He rolled his eyes, hobbling over to the bed. As he sat, she could feel his weight pushing the mattress down.

Before he could say a word, she snatched the paper in his hands and began scanning it. "What's wrong with it?"

"The numbers don't add up."

She stared at the document for another second, then back up at Kaz. "Who are you and what have you done with Kaz Brekker?"

He blinked at her.

"You forgot to carry the one. The numbers don't add up because you... well, added them wrong," she explained softly. She looked up at him, concern crossing her features. "Do you need a nap?"

Kaz huffed out a breath. "I'm fine. You're just distracting me, that's all."

"We're going to ignore the fact that you think I'm distracting and instead focus on the fact that you have not slept in several days."

Kaz's nostrils flared slightly in indignation. Before he could speak, however, Y/N cut him off. "Kaz, I have known you since I was eleven. I'm also not fucking blind. Yes, I know you are essentially running a mafia at age seventeen. Yes, I know you are under pressure. Yes, I know there is at any given moment a bounty on your head. Yes, I know I am sick and it is technically your job to take care of me. But can we please just make a deal or a truce or something in which you get some fucking rest?"

Kaz was quiet for a moment before the corner of his mouth twitched. "Always the mother hen for everyone except yourself."

She was startled into a laugh. "What can I saw, I was a born hypocrite."

Kaz did end up getting a couple hours of sleep, even if it was at Y/N's insistence.

However, he almost regretted it when Jesper barged in and, with a gleeful cackle, found them both sleeping in the same bed with one of his legs pressed up against hers - Kaz's version of flat-out cuddling.

Almost.

#kaz brekker #kaz brekker x reader #six of crows #grishaverse #kaz brekker imagine

[ayamturd]

end│dreamwastaken

summary: dream was once your everything that you would do anything for; what happens when you finally confront the reality of his manipulation and sadistic destruction?

prompt: “we’re both at fault here, and now we both have to pay the price.” 

warnings: descriptive manipulation, a single curse word, angst

pairing: in-game c!dream

a/n: this is my entry for @sleepysoupi​‘s 1.8k event! it goes without saying how late i am considering she’s currently working on her 2.0k event, but still a huge congratulatory to her amazing success and obvious, well deserved recognition <33 we love soupi in this household, nothing less of the fact *^*

also i know the prison doesn’t work exactly like how i wrote it, but let’s pretend for the sake of this fic

wc: (1.6k) - m.list

“Don’t do this, y/n.”

The air was sticky and heavy. As the lava bubbled behind you, it felt as if the heat could reach out and smother you entirely; the subtle warmth that felt insufferably suffocating in the tight space was a large contrast to the dark, opaque walls. 

Although you stood in front of him by your own desire, habits quickly fell to place as he stood proudly above you. Chin raised, Dream’s shoulders were relaxed while he spoke to you. His words were firm, and with clenched fists, you swallowed harshly from his mocking tone. 

You could practically hear his condescending grin without looking in how belittling he addressed you, and you hated how familiar the speech was. 

“After all I’ve done for you, and you want to throw it all away?”

Despite all attempts, you unconsciously bowed your head down. Whether in unjustified guilt or the internal rage from his lies, you couldn’t say yourself. He noticed nonetheless, and played into your vulnerability further. 

He was the one defenseless in this scenario, yet he held all the power in the small cage between the two of you. 

“We made promises! ‘Till the very end, right?!” He began to raise his voice and feigned some form of heartbreak, taking a step dangerously closer to you while you stood there in frozen fear.

Staring harshly down at your feet, the weight of gravity pulled at your tears as they trickled down sparsely. This was different than when you originally confronted him mere hours ago. Here, you were alone and with no backing, no one to reassure you that you did the right thing. That he was a monster that had you blinded for so long.

That you were justified for betraying Dream. 

“Don’t play stupid with me now. You can’t act like I did this all alone. That I’m not the only sick fuck in the room who enjoys the-”

“Stop it,” you whispered with closed eyes. While your voice was small, it echoed so loudly and threw Dream off guard. He shook his head and with a dark chuckle, sneered disparagingly. 

“You really th-”

Your eyes opened as you unexpectedly interrupted him.

“No. For once in my life, I mean it. Shut your egotistical mouth for one goddamn second.”

Everything was in a frozen stand still as you snapped. 

Course tears ran steadily down your cheeks, yet your eyes held more strength than Dream could had ever perceived in that moment. It had been so long since you had lost your voice. Lost your confidence, your fire that drew him in in the first place. It had been so long since you felt like yourself again, the person you once were before he teared you down completely to his mercy. 

You swallowed sternly in exposed anxiety; when was the last time you saw his face like this? Saw his face at all, at that. 

The molten lava radiated the room, it being the main source of light in contrast to the faint glow of the lanterns built into the walls. When you had originally requested to see him one final time before he was officially locked away for good, you had no idea what you expected to see. You didn’t see anything, actually, since you couldn’t bring yourself to try and meet his eye line the entire time. 

Until now. 

As the magma shaded the room in a warm shine, his dull eyes gleamed a faded hue of ash green. His dirty blond hair was visible without his signature hoodie, his previous clothes stripped away and replaced with an attired uniform instead. He hid behind a mask for so long, it was surreal to see him as something so mundane and human.

Your mouth felt so dry from seeing him again. He almost looked like when you first laid eyes on him, that beautiful day when you thought you had fallen in love. How nice the sun felt, and how crisp the wind blew. The summer day was fresh and the sweet smell of honey pervaded the air. To think it was by mere chance he approached you in the white flower field, hidden in the depths of the forest with a charming smile and gentle hand.

How cruel reality liked to play with you and give you false hope that such love could truly exist. 

The memory brought a smoldering rage that made your heart race in return. Back straight, you dared a step towards him with a quiet, yet firm declaration. 

“I’m done making excuses for your lies. For your actions, for the hurt you cause, for you.”

Dream could barely register your words as you continued in growing fury. It was like the floodgates were open and you felt free to speak your truth. 

You were riding this new found wave and would hold nothing back anymore. 

“I let you get away with so much because I truly believed that I loved you. That my love could fix you, or change what you are.”

You stepped forward again, your finger shakily pointed at him. His mouth opened to respond but you spoke before he could try. You weren’t going to give him anything, you thought, he doesn’t deserve your silence.

“I went against everything I believed!” you suddenly yelled, “everything I stood for, everything I thought because of you!”

Your vision was a blur as your raw emotions came loose. You screamed from the top of your lungs to the point where your voice cracked with a head lifted high. 

“I let people get hurt! People I love and care for because I prioritized you over everything I had!”

Another step forward, your voice shook with quivered lips as a result of an ached and long scorned heart.

“To think I used to be so proud to say it, to say you were my everything and my world.” With a trembled exhale, you gathered yourself before finishing your thought. “Maybe I am stupid, but trust me when I say my ignorance was your freedom and my considered love a blind devotion.”

Dream’s face softened considerably, for he was at a loss for words and didn’t have anything to probe at anymore. It was his turn to suffer in a lost acceptance.

“I…”

Shaking your head, you scoffed with your head tilted in disbelief. Smiling darkly, you knew then and there you regained the power of the room and your self-assurance over him. How the turn tables.

“Funny how things change when you have no where to run. When you’re the one helpless and reliant.”

Standing strong with your arms crossed, you stared at him with such distaste. Dream’s brows furrowed with a clench jaw as he stepped even closer to you. He was now mere inches away and glared down at you from his given height. Even then, you wouldn’t back down any longer.

“I do love you, y/n. Everything I did, I did for us. You can’t leave me like this.” He gazed down with such intensity that your past you would have wanted to say something just to appease him entirely; you weren’t that person anymore, and you wouldn’t let him drag you down more than he already has. 

Dropping yours arms before stepping back, you messaged Sam without wavering your eye contact from him. 

“We’re both at fault here, and now we both have to pay the price of it alone.”

The sounded mechanics from outside the box indicated the lava dropping, signifying the end of your visit. Dream grew agitated at the thought of you leaving and dropped his eyes down in resent, a huge contrast to your relaxed and calm state. 

You moved backwards until your back threatened to be burned by the heat. 

“Here’s to loosing all those attachments you mentioned.”

Dream’s head snapped up from your words, but before he could attempt anything further, the Netherite divider rose and separated you both. The lava parted as you approached the platform, Sam visible from across the entrapping moat. He watched closely in regard to your safety and anything Dream might try with your back currently turned. 

Approaching the stone platform once deemed safe, you turned to face him a final time as the contraption slowly pulled you away. Your chin was raised, and your tears were dry in satisfaction to your found closure.

“You were right,” you affirmed, “we did make promises, and this is our end.”

Bonus:

Tommy had been tormenting Dream for the past few minutes or so, his obnoxious taunts a sign of recovery from all the trauma he had dealt with from his young age. He hid behind his humor, but was strong when confronting his abuser with no uncertainty then. 

“Who do you miss the most?”

Dream paused from fiddling with the leather of the book covers from the simple question. His hand began to curl around the thick material, and he drowned out Tommy’s rambling from behind him.

A familiar scent filled his senses, an old and precious memory uncovered from the oppressed depths of his mind. He pulled the book in hand open to a random, but intentional page, his callous fingers tracing over the stained ink.

He wasn’t an artist, and it easily would have been passed for messy, nonsense doodles, yet the drawing practically burned the paper as a reminder of his failed objectives.

The innocent azure bluets insulted him despite being his own creation.

Dream was done playing into Tommy’s confidence, and spoke lowly as his head turned further away from the boy.

“… I think you should go, Tommy."

#dream smp x reader #dream smp x you #dreamwastaken x reader #dreamwastaken x you #dream x reader #dream x you #dream x gn!reader #mcyt x reader #mcyt x you #dreamwastaken x gn!reader #dreamwastaken imagine #dsmp x reader #sleepysoupi 1.8k writing event

[seonghwashibber]

My one and only 

Pairing: Yandere! San x Reader

Genre: Angst, Horror, Small fluff 

Warning: Blood, Alcohol use, Abuse, Stalking, Violence 

Note: I in no way support Yandere’s, This is purely fanfiction content, If you are going through a toxic and dangerous situation. Please seek help, reach out to someone. You are worth a lot more than you think, you deserve to be happy. 

Taglist: @sunsethw4​ @little-precious-baby​ @seacottons​ @softvelvetkisses​ @queenofgames​ @pastelpinkelfie​

Scenario: Escaping the darkness was not an easy job, when you finally did, you found happiness. Yet the one who brought you pain is back and he refuses to let go of you. But your current boyfriend refuses to allow San around you.

“You are dismissed,” Park Seonghwa said, the college students had stood up to gather what they needed. You sat down, scribbling on the empty page, the thought of finally being free. It had been a whole year since you escaped from a hell called love. Yet it was no real love, you couldn’t forgive him for the scars on your legs, the image of your blood on his hand. The way his mood switched, he loved you, he claimed it. But next minute, if you broke the rules, if you went against what he said, you would suffer a physical pain from disobeying him. Choi San, His looks could fool you, his words were lies. Where is he now?. You didn’t exactly know where he was. You remember him.

"My sweet love, are you forgetting that we’re in love? No one is gonna love you the way I do, you know this,” San cooed as he held you. You whimper at the sudden contact. “You know the rules, disobeying me would only lead to punishment, now apologize like a good kitten,” he smirked. You nodded your head slowly, the cuts on your legs were fresh. “I’m sorry for talking to him,” you apologized. Yes, apologized, for talking to Choi Jongho. The handsome guy who just so happened to take a liking to you from first sight. “Now you’ll stay in the room, for 6 days, If you do good, I’ll let you out but always remember baby, If I can’t have you all to myself, no one else can,” he chuckled darkly. He stood up, walking from the bed. You held the knife tightly before adding more fake tears. “Wait, I wanna hug you again,” you lied. Now, San loved when you told him what you wanted or needed, he believed that only he could provide you with it. Which is why he didn’t like when you asked other people around you in public for help. 

He nodded his head, his ego rising as he felt like you needed him, he knew you did. He believed that you did. “Of course doll,” he smiled. He walked closer, wrapping his arms around your warm and shaking body, you wrapped your arms around him, without another thought you jabbed the knife into his back, he yelled in pain. Kicking your way out, you ran downstairs and out the front door. Your feet hit the cold ground, rain fell as you made your way to the nearest police station, never looking back at the obsessed man. 

“Earth to the love of my life,” a voice spoke. Snapping out of your thought, you looked up, meeting eyes with your boyfriend, Jongho. After you had left San, you moved further away, leaving your belongings behind. You reached out to Jongho, he had told you that you were free to stay with him. After a few months you built a romantic relationship, which happened to be what brought you guys to the same college. South Korea was huge, so you stopped stressing about San finding you, it would take so long for him to even trace you. But you believed that the police caught him before things could be worse. 

You smiled at your boyfriend, giving him a small peck. “Yes?” You said. He sighed. “Took a bit, Thinking about it again?” he asked as he sat on the table, facing you. “I just think it’s weird ya know? After that night...I never seen him again,” you explained. Jongho hummed as he pulled you tightly to his chest. “Well you don’t have to worry about seeing him, you have me, We’re in one of the largest universities in Korea, He wouldn’t be able to find you,” he comforted you. Jongho was well aware of everything and had promised that he would protect you. “So stop worrying and let’s go, Coffee date, you can meet some of my friends and we’ll have fun,”. You smiled before gripping his hand. 

As you and Jongho talked, walking towards the coffee shop on campus, someone had bumped into Jongho. The man didn’t even look back to apologize, he continued to walk. You frown but Jongho smiles. “Don’t worry about him, I’m fine,” he said. As you both continued walking. Yet the guy with dark hair hadn’t looked back. Instead he turned off towards the bathroom, pulling off his hood and looking in the mirror, he washed his face a bit, the door opening behind him. “San, you ready? I’m throwing this party for you to find a hot babe,” Wooyoung said. San chuckled. “I’m fine,”. Wooyoung shook his head at his friends claim. “That’s not true because if it was, you would be over your ex, and you do realize that she’s probably married with kids,” Wooyoung took a guess. 

San had shaken his head, he knew you all too well, After you escaped from his life, he had healed from the scar on his back. His search for you was gonna be the best one yet. He never stopped searching for you, high and low, he didn’t stop searching. He would try his best to get a lead, but nothing. Until he met Wooyoung. San had found out you were apart of the group in some way when he mentioned all the cute girls he met on the campus, and you, Jongho’s girlfriend, happened to be one. 

“Actually, I have a question, are you going to invite the Y/n girl you’ve told me so much about?” San asked. Wooyoung shook his head. “I don’t plan on it, I mean Jongho wouldn’t care but she’s in a relationship so flirting with her is not the best option at the moment,” Wooyoung explained. San rolled his eyes. “I don’t mean like that, I just wanna meet her,  A friend of yours is a friend of mine,” he lied. 

You laughed at the small joke that Jongho had told you, He knew how to cheer you up when you felt down or just wasn’t too big on fun. “I have to use the restroom, wait for me right here,” he said. Jongho stood up from his seat, making his way to the restroom. You tapped your hands on the table lightly, the smell of coffee beans filled the air along with the long conversations around you. “Hey beautiful,” a voice surprised you by the sudden touch on your shoulder. You jumped slightly but let out a small laugh as you looked to see Mingi. “You scared me, don’t do that Mingi,” you said. He chuckled as he apologized leaning forward on your table. “Are you and Jongho hitting up Wooyoung’s party tonight? Thankfully I allowed them to throw it in my frat house,” he said. You hummed as you shook your head. “It’s up to Jongho, I have no plans but you know how I feel being in large crowds without him,” you admitted. Mingi nodded his head as he looked to his left, making eye contact with his friend Yunho. “I’m gonna go annoy someone,”. You chuckled before looking out the window, in a long distance you felt your blood run cold. The color draining from your face, standing away from the window. 

Was the same man from earlier but this time he didn’t hide his face in his hood, no, he showed it to you. Your hands shake as you look San in the eyes. Letting out a small scream and whimper you got the attention of the students around you, dropping your coffee in the wet floor. Jongho rushes over, pulling you against his chest. “You okay love? What happened?” he asked in a panic. You pointed towards the window but when you had looked back over, He was gone. “San, I s-saw him!” you explain. Jongho apologized to those around you both before walking out of the café with you. “Alright, You need to go to the dorm and get some rest, you didn’t take your medication did you?” he asked. You shook your head. “I’m not delusional Jongho, I saw him! I seen his eyes, his creepy smirk, I seen it,” you claimed but you knew deep down that Jongho would not believe unless he witnessed the man himself. He frowns at your shaking state as he walks you back to the dorm. 

You groan as you look around, you were in the dorm room, Jongho wasn’t around but your roommate’s voice could be heard. You check the time and whine before stepping out of bed, walking into the noisy bathroom. “Finally, someone’s awake, I was thinking that my dress would look better on you,” Lisa explained. “I’m not going to Wooyoung’s party,” you chuckled. Lisa frowned. “Come on, Jongho’s going, I’m going, do you really wanna spend your night inside closed up?” she asked. Frowning you shook your head, accepting the defeat your best friend had against you. 

“San, this is my friend...Rose, Rose this is San,” Wooyoung introduced the two in the kitchen. San smiled as he shook her hand, the red cup in his left hand as he looked around the place, searching for you. “I think you could help this dude forget his ex,” Wooyoung chimed as he winked. San faked a laugh as he shook his head. “I’m fine without a girlfriend, Really,” he said. “Y/n!” a yell could be heard. San’s attention was quickly at the entrance, you had walked in behind Lisa. The pink, thigh-high dress was fitting perfectly on you. You smiled as you hugged Jaemin. San’s hand begin to squeeze the cup until it was nothing. Your vision had landed on the man right there. He didn’t look cocky, caring, like his ego was high. San’s vision was red, his jaw was clenched. 

Turning towards Jaemin you begin to wanna avoid San. “Do you by chance know where Jongho is?” you asked searching for him. “I’m not sure, last time I seen him, he went upstairs,” he explained. You thanked him, speed walking around the crowd, not apologizing for roughly bumping into them, you knew San was following you. Finally you thought of an idea to throw his plan off, you leaned your head on Yeosang. “I’m looking for Jongho, do you know where he is?” you asked. San had kept his distance, knowing that if he had made moves, they would catch on to who he really was. “He’s probably busy talking to one of the guys, I wish that I could tell you where he was but I’m not sure,” he shrugged. You looked back at San but you knew if you went to tell Jongho. He wouldn’t believe it, taking your phone out of your pocket, you knew that you had to do something that would make him believe you. 

Yet before you could alert your boyfriend, San had walked up as soon as Yeosang left. “You look good tonight but remember my rules doll face, You can’t show that much skin to other people, we’ve been over this, because they’ll want you for what you look like, and no one will ever love you the same way I do,” he smirked. You nodded your head, wanting to avoid the dark gaze he was sending through your soul. He grabbed your hand before pulling you along. “An emergency has came up and little Y/n needs a ride there, So I’m gonna be the one taking her,” San told Mingi who only nodded his head. Mingi looked back at you as he seen that the look in your eyes was the eyes of fear. But he figured it could be the emergency that San spoke of. 

Jongho walked into the house as he was greeted, he had to run to the store for some more snacks since Youngjae had been eating them a lot more than he expected. He looked around and couldn’t find you anywhere, turning over he looked to see Lisa, who only shrugged when she knew what he was asking. Jongho searched everywhere, bathrooms, outside, upstairs, bedrooms, he couldn’t find you even in the kitchen making jokes with your friend Mingi. He tapped on Mingi’s shoulder who was talking with Wooyoung. “Yo, Mingi,” Jongho said. Mingi’s breath had the strong scent of alcohol, his eyes focused on him but hardly with a clear view. “Have you seen Y/n?” he asked. Wooyoung shook his head as Mingi nodded his head. “She was leaving with Wooyoung’s friend, he’s got dark hair, San is his name I believe,” Mingi slurred. Without another word, Jongho snatched the car keys that belonged to Yunho, he rushed out the door as his phone dialed your number. Yet no response, you weren’t answering any of his calls. His jaw clenched as his hands tighten on the steering wheel. “If you touch her Choi San, I’ll kill you,”.

The air smelled fresh, it was a bit warm in the home but it was understandable since it was cold outside. You sat on the couch, the same couch that you fell in love at, that night he invited you over for a date. His smile was so innocent, you snuggled after dinner and wine, watching a movie. Yet it wasn’t the same, now you sit on it in fear and misery. “You should apologize for leaving me that night, I haven’t forgotten about it,” he said. But you didn’t look at him, you looked at the floor, you knew if you looked in his eyes, you would see the tears he held. You knew those tears were hard to fight against, you hated that part of you, even after all he’s done, when you see him cry, it hurts you. But Jongho always said that he was manipulating you into staying, and that’s why.  

“I don’t understand why you left, please look at me baby, I’m sorry for everything,” he said as he got in front of you. He looked into your eyes, his tears running down his face. “I love you so much, I was the one who took you from a cold world, I made you the beautiful lady you are today, You cried and I was there to protect you, So why did you leave me?” he questioned. His voice was soft, gentle. You shake your head. “San...Just let me go please,” you pleaded. He cupped your face as he made you look at him. “Y/n, I was there for you through everything, when you got kicked out, I was the first person who offered somewhere to sleep,” he said and you knew he was right. You wanted to give in to him so easily. You felt the urge to just say forget it all and turn to him but something was stopping you. It happened to be the promise ring on your finger. Closing your eyes, you begin to compare the two men in your life, and you knew that San would do anything to manipulate you. 

{Flashback}

When you wear a dress, San is quick to call you names, stating how much of a whore you’ve become or how you looked beautiful but you were his blossom and he didn’t like anyone else to see. “I told you already, it makes you look like you’ll throw yourself at the next rich guy around town, whore,” he spat. You frown at his words, only believing he said it out of frustration and insecurity. “But Sannie, you said you loved this color on me?” you pout. He sighed deeply before wrapping his arms around your waist. “I know I did baby, but you know how I get, and how guys will drool all over you, you are beautiful but sometimes you don’t need the most revealing clothes to state how pretty you are to me,” he wrapped his arm around your waist. “I’ll change and we can go on our date,” you peck his lips. 

. 

You frown as you stand in front of Jongho, who was dressed formal just so you could go meet his parents. “Are you cold?” he asked as he watched you cross your arms. “It’s not that, Just if you don’t want other people to see me dressed like this...I understand,”. He chuckled before shaking his head. “You look great, I want the world to see just how beautiful you are, you can wear anything you want, I won’t mind,”. He gave you a warm smile and you felt a bit better now by his words. 

{End of flashback}

“I’m sorry San, but there will never be a you and me in this world,” you said before headbutting him and sending him backwards. You hiss in pain as the blood slowly ran down the side of your head. “You fucking brat, I give you everything and you do this to me? I already told you that no one would love you the way I do,” he spat as he stood up from the floor, his hand gripped your throat as he was beyond pissed off. You had never seen this much anger from him before in your life. “You know the rules love, If I can’t have you, what are you doing here in the first place?”. You begin to kick in hopes that you could regain your breath before it was too late, As your vision got cloudy, San was knocked off of you. Falling back to the floor you start to breathe better turning your gaze over to find Jongho fighting San. 

He was on him, punching him countless times in the face. “I.Told.You.Not.To.Touch.Her,” Jongho spoke after each punch. San reached over to the table, grabbing the house phone and knocking Jongho off of him but that didn’t stop your boyfriend from fighting San. The two men had begin to fight, while you on the other hand wanted to help but you felt so weak in your bones. Almost like you couldn’t handle anything anymore. Yet you didn’t allow that to stop you, weakly standing up from the floor, you try your best to rush over to the kitchen, only to find San holding a knife against Jongho’s neck. “Forgive me,” your voice could be heard by the two males. Swinging without a thought, You had hit San in the back of the head with a vase, he was knocked out cold. Jongho grabbed you quickly as he looked down at San. “Is he dead?” you asked. He frowned. “I’m not sure but we should report this to the police,” he said. 

Jongho and You sat at the police station, You had your eyes closed as you rested against him a bit. Only to be woken up and coming face to face with the officer. “We went back to the home, No one was there, Searching the place up and down, nothing was there but blood throughout the home, The trail ended at the back door, Meaning he left and he’s out there somewhere, but to assure your safety, I think it’s best you both stay somewhere he can’t find you,” he explained. You begin to feel uneasy but Jongho noticed, He nodded his head as he laced his fingers with yours. “Let’s go home love, they’ll let us know when they get a lead on him,” he said. Nodding your head, being sleepy, you had gotten in the car, Jongho started it up as he frowned. “I want you to know that as long as I’m with you, nothing is gonna happen, Choi San will never be able to hurt you, and that I promise,” he said giving your head a kiss. 

You frown as the bruises on his body but you knew that he only took those hits to protect you, your neck was bruised and in pain. As you drifted off to sleep, Jongho chuckled a bit at the sight of you. He felt proud that he protected you some from someone he had a bad feeling about since he first spotted him.

{At Location}

Your eyes open and you find yourself on the couch, raising up you were met with the guys. “Y/n’s awake,” Mingi called. Jongho rushed over as he checked on you, you looked at him a bit confused. “Where are we? Where’s San?” you asked. He smiled but you knew it was his comfort smile. “We’re at Hongjoong’s place, he understood everything and allowed us to stay here until they find San, don’t worry about him, he isn’t gonna get you, you know that, now go back to bed, Me and the guys don’t plan on falling asleep anytime soon,” he said as he kissed you. Nodding your head, you laid back down and wished you could stop thinking about the horrifying events that took place. 

Meanwhile, outside of Hongjoong’s place, a figure could be spotted, lurking around, limping on the lawn as he searched around the place. San smirked as he knew you were hiding in there. But he wasn’t gonna strike you, he had to hide, but he knew that even if you didn’t come back without a fight, he would never be able to leave you alone or let you go. Ever. Again. 

#kpop #kpop imagines #kpop scenarios #kpop reactions #ateez #ateez imagines #ateez reactions #ateez scenarios #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere! Ateez #yandere! kpop #hongjoong #seonghwa #yunho #yeosang #san #mingi #wooyoung #jongho #san x reader #choi san x reader #yandere! san #kpop yandere #ateez yandere #jongho x reader #san x y/n #y/n

[thisnoodlewritesao3]

Ok ok ok so theres a soulmate prompts and it's the most important thing your soulmate says to you is written on you and like i think it would be a great prompt for either Kyoutani or Ushijima and it be something along the lines of I love you something that people hear everyday but would mean so much more than just "I love you" coming from them

Okay, ngl, I was struggling a bit with this one. Motivation really said nope. But! Then, something happened today, and this ended up a little longer than I wanted it to. But! It is so good. So here, my lovely little anon, have my heart and soul

Thank you for sending in a request to the event my dear

----

The idea of having a soulmate was sweet in and of itself; actually having a soulmate was a different story of whether you could actually find them. Because in a world so big and full of people, the chance of finding them was getting so rare that it was more surprising to see a pair of soulmates than it was to see a regular couple who had chosen to be together.

It didn’t help that you only had a phrase on your wrist to go by. “That sentence will be the most important thing your soulmate will say to you,” your 6th grade teacher mused with stars in her eyes, “and your soulmate is someone who you will feel the most connected to, things will feel right, like everything has fallen into place.” At the time, you were infatuated with soulmates (maybe because they held the love that you lacked), but you’d grown to realise how small of a chance you had to find your soulmate.

I love you.

Of course you couldn’t have something normal, something easy to recognise. Now you had to second guess every single time someone told you they loved you, whether you’d felt some sort of special connection or whether it was just a friendly remark. Life was ever confusing.

You settled on the idea you had no hope to find your soulmate, that you’d have to create your own special connection with someone - that made you content - because special connections can be made with time and care.

That was why you’d loved you’d met Kyoutani Kentarou - maybe it was a bad thing that you two fueled each other’s flames but who was to stop you? No one, that would be the first problem. You’d met at a volleyball camp for young kids, your brother wanted to go so your mom made you go with him; it was like you locked eyes and were instantly drawn to each other.

As much as neither of you liked to admit it, no one could make you happier than the other. He was the spark in your step, the flame in your heart, the roar you needed to fight back. You were his calm, an ocean in a world surrounded by destruction, the bite he needed to pull back. That wasn’t to say you weren’t just as chaotic - if not more - than he was. Sure, he'd be the one to start fights, but you preferred to finish them. To push buttons beyond relief.

Neither of you had exceptional social skills, but who needs social skills when you already found the person who compliments you so well.

He may not have been the reason you played volleyball initially, but he was the reason you stayed. And, like Kyoutani, if you’re going to put your energy into something, you put 100% of your effort into it. The same way you’d put 100% into your relationship with him.

Kyoutani started your adventures together and you tagged along. When he joined Aoba Johsai, you were hot on his tail. He joined the boys VBC team, and you joined the girls. It meant you spent a little less time together, but when you were together you had so much to talk about.

So maybe things started to go wrong when you started getting closer to your team and he was at an impasse. More temperamental and on edge than ever before. And that shitty captain of his didn’t help much either, but you helped where you could - even when it didn’t seem to go anywhere.

And when he was kicked out of his club, you followed suit once again, quitting yours until he got a chance to join again. Even when you were suffering, it couldn’t have equated to what he was feeling, so you dealt with it.

“Why did you do it?” He asked, glaring off into the distance after school. You didn't know why you were waiting around, but he said he had something to do, so you joined him.

“What?” You quirked a brow up at him.

“Quit your club.” He elaborated and you shrugged.

“Where you go, I go, no matter what, Kenta.” You looked away before you could see the emotions on his face shift from his typical glare to something more. Something light and filled with adoration and confusion all at one. His hand unconsciously went to his shoulder, where the words of his soulmate lay. You weren’t even paying attention. He could have sworn his heart fluttered in that moment.

Of course, he’d always liked you in some way, that was why he let you stick around - and maybe there was a deeper connection he couldn’t explain. But there was an issue: he didn’t want things to change. Maybe he was being selfish, who cares. Not him. Definitely not him.

Things only got worse when he started to notice things about you, things he’d seen before but hadn’t really paid attention to. Like the way you swayed your head in deep concentration, or how your eyes would light up when talking about something you were passionate about. How you’d bite your lip nervously as he argued with people. Even that you’d reach out and grab his shirt just before he swung to punch. You’d stand more behind him when the volleyball came around him, like you were on edge around them, eyes constantly flickering between them and him for any signs of hostility. You didn’t seem to trust them (with the exception of Iwaizumi because he trusted Iwaizumi).

Every little thing you did drove him crazy. So what if he’d fallen for you? You didn’t need to know because things didn’t need to change.

Watching you play volleyball was like a different kind of rush - you were a Libero - every movement was calm and calculated as you dove across the court. He can only imagine how it must have felt for you. And the fact you insisted on wearing a skirt on the court drove him insane.

You must have noticed, because you brought it up. “You doing okay, Ken?” You tilt your head to the side, trying to work out the wonders in his mind. For the ninth time today, he avoids your eyes. You’re starting to feel offended, have you done something wrong? You couldn’t think of anything you’d done wrong, but maybe you just weren’t thinking hard enough.

“‘M fine.” He sighed; you looked up at him with wide doe eyes and he thought his heart might melt. Then you did the worst thing you could have done; you reached out and squeezed his hand. He tried to pull away, but you wouldn’t let him - in the end, he ended up falling over, you ended up falling with him. On top of him.

Was this heaven or hell? He’d find out later. Of course he knew you were his soulmate, but you didn’t know. You couldn’t know. He wouldn’t let you know. Because things were fine how they were. And what if he wasn’t good enough? What if he hurt you somehow? You were happy right now, weren’t you? So maybe everything would be fi-

You slapped his cheek harshly, glaring down at him. “Kyoutani Kentarou-” oh no, so you were mad “- if you don’t tell me what’s happening right now, I swear to God.” He cringed away. By trying not to hurt you, he’d hurt you - who could have predicted this would happen?

What would the consequences be if he told you how he felt? Maybe you’d be happy, or maybe you’d be mad. He’d be putting everything on the line right now. But the way you looked at him - almost darkly, some sadness, but most of all confusion and anger. It made his heart stung.

Before he could think more, his mouth worked faster than his mind, “I love you!” He almost yelled it out, he was staring directly in your eyes; he got to watch your emotions shift. It was like you went through the five stages of grief: denial (in the form of confusion), anger (your brows furrowed together and knuckles turned white), bargaining (your eyes pleaded with him to change his mind, or the words he used, or anything), depression (you pulled in on yourself, he could feel all your muscles tense), and then there was a pause, your face went blank, you were searching his eyes for something - anything - and you seemed to find it. Acceptance: you wrapped your arms around him and buried your head in the crook of his neck.

You could never be sure whether he was actually your soulmate, but something about that look in his eyes told you he meant it. No if’s, and’s or but’s. His heart was yours, and yours his. Wherever he went, you followed.

The only time you didn’t follow him was when you walked down the aisle.

----

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[wlntrsldler]

Flawless (Bucky Barnes Imagine)

Prompt: Bucky and Y/N are friends with benefits. They found a new thing to play with in the bedroom. The Winter Soldier.

Song Inspiration: Flawless by The Neighbourhood

Warnings: SMUT!!!!!!! only 18+ please. don’t read if you’re uncomfortable w rough sex. 

MAIN MASTERLIST

-

The whole arrangement had never been innocent, not even from the start. It was toxic. 

Y/N hated the way this new society aimlessly threw the word “toxic” around when none of them truly knew the real definition of the dirty word. Toxic wasn’t just running back to the guy you told your friends you’ve cut off. No, toxic wasn’t just that.

Toxic was reciting those trigger words, ten, little, poisonous words, that ignites a monster inside someone she had no business even being around. It was the feeling of absolute adrenaline that she felt when she heard the squeaks of his metal arm, the grunting coming from his pursed lips, and the evil twinkle in his eye. They knew this was dangerous. They were playing with fire that could leave them burned and their arrangement in ashes but they didn’t care. They didn’t care that his fingers might just press that much harder against the skin of her throat and -poof- she’d be a goner. They thought it was hot, living on the edge, knowing that their possible demise was just one step away, crossing the line from pleasure to death.

That’s toxic. 

Not the teeny-bopper definition of it. What Bucky and Y/N had, was toxic. 

But that never stopped them from doing it. 

The first time they tried it, Bucky was apprehensive. Bucky was never one to be experimental in the bedroom and he had spent a better part of his new life trying to detangle himself from the monster they created. So when Y/N’s soft whisper, so soft that he almost didn’t hear it- thank God for his super-soldier hearing- he blinked a few times trying to comprehend exactly what she wanted from him. 

“You want to what?” He asked through gritted teeth, his eyebrows were furrowed. “You want to recite my trigger words to see what it’s like to fuck while I’m the Winter Soldier?”

Truth be told, when Y/N first approached him with the proposition of being friends with benefits, he was overjoyed. There had been months of sexual tension building up between the two Avengers and Bucky hasn’t had anything but his own hand for years. A sexual release was nice. He knew he needed it. 

What he didn’t expect was for sweet, innocent, talks to insects she sees in the garden, Y/N, to be so goddamn kinky. The young agent was experimental, sometimes too experimental for Bucky’s old mind to keep up with. But this idea she has to fuck while he was in Winter Soldier mode was the most outrageous, yet somewhat enticing, idea she’d ever had. 

“I know, it’s a little extreme,” She sighed, already making her way out the door of his room. “Forget I said anything. I’m sorry.”

Bucky sat on his bed, dumbfounded for a second, weighing his decision. Any mentally stable man would know that the idea that he could quite possibly snap her in half like a Kit-Kat, should’ve been enough to shoot the entire possibility down. But Bucky was far from mentally stable and it was evident when he ran towards you as you placed your hand on the doorknob and kissed you like his life depended on it. 

He felt you smirk under the feeling of his tongue on your lips. You always win. God, it was so dangerous. What you were about to do were so fucking dangerous but the only thing that Bucky could think about was how absolutely wrecked you would look under him while he destroys you. 

Your hands traveled under his tight shirt, the one you bought him. He complained when he first opened the pack, stating that it was a size too small. You winked at him and said, “That’s the point, Sarge.” You sighed in adoration as the brief memory escaped your mind, your thoughts suddenly going in overdrive as you feel the pricking of his stubble against your neck. You clawed at his abdomen, feeling the sense of euphoria that only James Buchanan Barnes could ever deliver to you.

“You sure you wanna do this?” Buck breathed out in your ear, his lips finding your sweet spot underneath your earlobe. 

“Been dreamin’ about it,” You confessed, pulling his head back so you could look at him in the eye while saying your next words. “I wake up with my hand between my legs.”

Bucky groaned at your words, his lips finding yours again. His metal hand dips past your bodies and stops right at your clothed core. “So, so filthy.”

You started to push him back down on his bed. His metal hand drawing figure-eights, making it just that much more difficult to walk. He sensed your difficulty and hoisted you up to wrap your legs around his waist, where you felt his hardening bulge. 

“You know how to bring me back right?” Bucky asked, breathless, hair in disarray with the way you were tugging on it, helplessly. 

You merely nodded and looked at his face for any sign of discomfort or hesitation. You were met with a smug-looking Bucky, nothing of the earlier feelings etched on his face. Instead, his eyes were dark, looking at you in a much harsher way than you’re used to and for a moment, you wondered if he was already activated in Winter Soldier mode. 

The first night prompted the start of many others like it. Yes, you loved having sex with Bucky and nothing could ever beat the way he pleasured you. The way he has you withering away underneath him and the way you wake up with a dry throat the following day. He would run you dry, his super-soldier stamina coming in handy, and you loved it. 

But sex with the Winter Soldier was something out of the deepest crevices of your dirty mind.

Something about the way it felt with the Winter Soldier was addictive. You found yourself craving it, most especially after a day of leading missions consisting of irresponsible new recruits. You were a born leader. You were bred to be the best of the best but sometimes it was nice to be dominated. And that’s exactly what the Winter Soldier did to you. 

He dominated you in every way possible. He would throw you around like you were a toy to him, fucking you senselessly until there was an imprint of where your body once was in his disheveled mattress. He fucked you like there was no tomorrow- the snapping of his hips, the bites he left on your tender neck, and the countless orgasms that he would bring out of you. You didn’t even know your body was capable of coming undone that many times. 

If anyone found out the way you two operated, they would kill you both with their bare hands. Not only did you put yourself in danger by triggering Bucky and then pressing yourself as close as humanly possible to him, you also endanger everyone in the compound every time you do. The Winter Soldier was dangerous, you knew that. But you always liked living on the side of danger. 

It had been a long day of trying not to shoot the newest recruits when they managed to blow your covers during your mission. They might as well have written, “I’m a spy!” on their forehead and it would’ve been less obvious. Nonetheless, you completed the mission, but it took way longer than you would’ve liked. 

Bucky knew what was coming next. He knew how you were feeling with just the way you ignored everyone in the compound when you arrived. The rest of the team, shot knowing looks at the new recruits who limped in behind you, white as a sheet, like the living crap was just kicked from them. You were never one to use violence against people who didn’t deserve it, and although those recruits did deserve to have their asses handed to them, you opted with a good ol’ fashion lecture. You learned it from Cap himself, being the one on the receiving end just a few years back. 

Bucky excused himself from the rest of the team and made his way to your room. He heard the water running and the sound of you muttering about how recruits get worse and worse every year. He laughed under his breath, undressing himself to join you inside the shower. 

“Y/N,” He murmured, his hand reaching over to slide your shower door open. “I’m coming to join you.”

You just replied with what seemed like an, “Okay.” 

Bucky knew it from the way your back was tense under the scalding hot water- which he still had no idea how you enjoy. Your wet hair was sticking against the nape of your neck and the sinful bubbles from your shampoo were cascading down the small of your back, stopping before the curve of your ass. He pressed up against you, rubbing his hard on against your flesh and his metal hand moved found your neck, slightly squeezing it. 

“Tough day?” He asked, lips teasing the skin on your jaw. He peppered kissed down your body, stopping at your collarbone to turn you around so you faced him. 

“Very.” You whispered, your soft fingers trailing down his arms and down to his abdomen. You traced the outline of his abs, biting your bottom lip when your eyes met the tip of his dick. 

“My friend wants to say hi,” Bucky chuckled, darkly. His voice was deeper than usual and his eyes were glued to yours. It always amazed you how he was able to use his words, dripping with seduction and lust, and still managed to look so utterly beautiful. “He hasn’t come out in a while.”

Your hand grazed down to his dick, slowly stroking it from the base until the tip. Bucky’s confident demeanor slowly subsided and he was panting, whimpering, under the mix of your touch and the sensation of the hot water on his skin. Your lips found his chest, leaving animalistic marks of your own. “I missed him too. Shall we bring him out tonight?”

The tip of his tongue poked out the side of his lips, slowly coating his dry lips with a layer of slickness. He looked down at your small hand, wrapped around his length and he let out a broken sigh at the sight. Bucky looked up at you, the facade of innocence enough to drive him over the edge. “Let’s.”

You smirked, slowly increasing the pace of your strokes. 

“Желание.” 

He shut his eyes, his face twisting in a mix of pleasure and pain. 

“Ржавый.”

You kissed down his body, your hand not leaving his hardened length. 

“Семнадцать.”

You were on your knees now, a hint of Bucky still resisting to fight the Winter Soldier because he wanted to see you on your knees before he gave up his control. 

“Рассвет.”

Your lips wrapped around his length, feeling him moan at the feeling from above you. 

“Печь.”

You looked at him under your eyelashes, the mascara you wore being nothing but a messy smudge under your eyes now.

“��евять.“

His hands grabbed your hair, softly. You could feel it was still Bucky you were with, with the way he caressed your head after tugging on it.

“Добросердечный.”

“Y/N,” Bucky moaned, his hips bucking up against your mouth despite how hard he tried not to. “Fuck, baby.”

“Возвращение на Родину.”

You heard the crunching of the metal plates on his arm, the sound of the vibration sending shivers down your spine.

“Один.”

You bobbed your head up and down, your other hand taking care of the parts you couldn’t take in.

“Товарный вагон.”

You felt his demeanor change. His body felt heavier. His hips snapped against your mouth, mercilessly. You felt the tears brimming your eyes, your jaw starting to numb with his force. You choked on his length as it hit the back of your throat, your gagging made him groan at the feeling. You gripped on his thighs, your fingers digging into his flesh. 

He continued to fuck your mouth, his metal hand grabbing a handful of hair with every rock of his hips. He took his flesh hand and slapped the side of your cheek, making you look at him. You could tell it was no longer Bucky. 

You felt the sticky liquid coating the inside of your mouth. You kept your lips on him until he physically pulled you off him. Once you were faced with him, you saw the empty look in his eye. He looked at you with nothing but lust, a complete 180 from how Bucky looked at you during these intimate moments. 

You licked your lips, still tasting him on the surface of your lips. “Welcome, soldat.”

The soldier followed you out the shower, his eyes trailing the every move of your body. He clenched his fist, wanting to wreck you as he watched you sway your hips. 

You looked over your shoulder, curling a finger towards him to signal him to come closer. “Come on, soldat. You know your mission.”

He nodded, his arms grabbing you towards him. You gasped when you felt his rough touch, his hips rolling against your back. You let out a small scream when his hand made his way down to your core, spreading the growing wetness around. His teeth nibbled at the exposed skin of your back. 

You stumbled back on the bed, allowing yourself to fall captive to the stare of the Winter Soldier. He was propped up on top of you, his forearms holding himself up. He stared at you for a moment, taking in your current state. You looked wrecked. Your lips were puffy and red, your jaw hanging because it was numb, and your eyes looked at him with absolute desperation. 

He laughed, his chest rumbling with the sound, “You look so pathetic like this.”

You breathed out, gently lifting your hips to meet his, hoping he’ll get the hint. He pushed down your hips, swiftly. His fingers dug into your hipbone. You knew you would be bruised but God, you did not care about that right now. You just wanted him. 

“So desperate for me,” He whispered, head dipping down to quickly peck you on the lips before making his way down to your breasts. He sucked on your left nipple, using a hand to play with the other. “Such a needy slut, aren’t you?”

“Only for you, Soldat.”

He let his metal hand make its way down to your aching core. You shivered at the sensation of his hands pleasuring you. He stuck in two fingers unexpectedly, causing you to nearly jump. He didn’t give you time to adjust. He quickly pumped them in and out of you, the sound of his fingers entering you mixing with the sounds that left your lips. He pulled his fingers out and tapped them on your bottom lip. You opened your eyes to look at him while you sucked on his coated fingers. 

He flashed you a devilish smile, loving the way your tongue swirled between his two digits as you licked them clean. Once he pulled his fingers out of your mouth, he replaced them with his lips. This kiss was sinful. 

Teeth clashing, hands grabbing at anything, everything, and moans being silenced by his hand wrapping around your throat. He silenced you with a simple pinch against your neck. He pushed his hips against yours, the feeling of his tip rubbing your clit nearly making you come undone. 

You pulled away, breathless, “Need you.”

He glared at you, taking his hand and wrapping it around his own member. He tapped his tip against your wetness, hissing at the pleasurable feeling. You allowed your legs to open wider for him but he simply just rubbed against your clit, not daring to put it inside. “You get me when I say you get me.”

He gripped both of your wrists in his metal hand, not allowing you to touch him. You groaned, wanting nothing else but to claw down the soldier’s muscular back. You couldn’t do anything else but arch your back off the bed, trying to get him closer to you. 

“No,” He snapped, tightening his grip on you. “Do you not listen to what I say?”

You immediately stopped. You gulped, watching his hand slowly move up and down his cock. The slickness of you and his pre-cum made the muscle slick and it shone under the light of your bedroom. You watched hungrily as he picked up the pace. You moaned, wanting it to be your walls to milk him. 

“Soldat,” You begged, your voice dripping in desire. “please. Let me.”

He simply smirked, pumping himself until his second release. He groaned, his hand squeezing his member softly and prompted his undoing. White strings of cum oozed out from his tip, landing on your chest. He let go of himself, dragging two fingers on your chest to collect his release. 

He was about to wipe it off when he heard you whimper. He cocked an eyebrow, letting go of your now bruised wrists. Your eyes were glued at the white substance staining his fingers. “Want it?”

You nodded, crawling over to him where he extended his two fingers. He watched as you moaned at his taste. It wasn’t long until he was hard again. He grabbed your jaw, forcing you to straighten up and kiss him once more.

His tongue was in your mouth, tasting himself and your own sweetness on your tongue. He palmed your ass, picking you up so you sat right on his lap. His member was poking your entrance, earning a gasp from you. He helped you roll your hips against his, his hands not finding a steady place for him to grip you. His metal hand smacked your ass until it was as bright as a cherry. You groaned upon seeing your reflection in your mirror. 

The print of his hand was so prominent, it looked so much like a tattoo. He pushed you off him, turning you around so your back was faced towards him. He faced you towards the same mirror, allowing you to watch him as he took you from the back. 

He pushed the small of your back down into the mattress, wanting your ass to be up in the air. Your face was smushed down the sheets, eyes darting to the mirror in front of you. He caught your eye from the mirror. He grabbed your face, forcing you to turn and look at him for a quick second. “Want you to see how good I fuck you. If you look away, I stop. Eyes on me the whole time. Understand?” 

You merely nodded, which was a mistake. He slapped your ass again, accompanied by a harsh tug of your hair. “Understand?”

“Yes, soldat.” You gulped. “Understood.”

He let go of your hair, letting your head fall with a thud. He spread your legs some more, pushing down on your back to maintain the perfect arch. He rubbed his tip against your entrance and finally, he entered you. 

“God, yes.” You moaned, shutting your eyes for a quick second. 

Slap.

“What the fuck did I say?”

“Eyes on you the w-whole time.” You managed to croak out. He continued to push into you, the sound of your ass slapping against his thighs. Along with his hips, he pulled you off him and pushed you back down with every thrust. He was throwing you around like you weighed nothing, your cries of absolute pleasure nearly drowning out the sound of skin slapping. 

You felt beads of sweat drip down your back. You watched him in the mirror as he disappeared inside you after every thrust. He was staring at you, lip caught between his teeth. He watched your face contort into pleasure when he hit that spot. He knew what he had to do next after that.

He flipped you over, pulling out of you for a quick second. He found that spot again, hitting it over and over again. He knew that once he hit that spot, you would be coming undone soon. And he loved to see you wither under him. 

He continued the same pace, his fingers finding their way down to your core. He rubbed your clit with his metal hand as he thrusted into you, a shrill scream emerging from your lips. He laughed in a sultry manner, increasing his pace. 

“Oh-oh-oh,” You moaned out, the rest of the English words suddenly leaving your mind. You forgot every other word you knew, opting to just make sounds to convey your pleasure. His metal hand was vibrating on your clit. The coolness of the metal felt so good against your hot skin. 

He continued to fuck you through your first release. Then through your second. And third. His metal hand not slowing down its vibrations and coolness. It was like it had a mind of its own. It played with you like it was loving the way your arousal coated it. You moaned, feeling the sensitivity of your core. 

“Soldat, I can’t.”

You knew he wanted to make you cum one more time. But your body was worn out, especially with the way he continued to hit that same spot with the snap of his hips. “You can and you will.”

The sternness in his voice was enough to motivate you. His thrusts were becoming sloppy, you knew he was close. He pulled out of you and sat down. He pulled you on his lap again, this time allowing you to sink down on his dick He turned you both to the side. “Watch us.”

You stared at the way he pulled you off his dick and you watched it as it disappeared into you. The mirror was starting to slowly fog, the room smelling like sex and arousal. You watched him, hair sticking to his forehead and eyebrows furrowed. “Soldat, I’m close.”

“Me too.”

He picked up the pace, breaking his trance from watching you on the mirror and allowed himself to close his eyes. His lips sucked on your nipples, another wave of pleasure making its way down your body. You moaned to release one last time and that did it for him. He spilled inside you, groaning and biting the skin of your shoulder as he filled you with his seed. 

He pulled you off him, watching as his cum oozed out of you. You were too tired to do anything but you knew you had to bring Bucky back before the soldier decided to go rogue. You leaned towards your dresser, wincing at the pain of your lower half. You retrieved the injection that Bruce created for Bucky. 

The soldier looked at you, chest rising up and down. He knew it was his time to go. You smiled softly at him before jamming the injection in his right thigh. He hissed at the feeling but soon his shoulders slumped down and his breathing pattern changed. 

Bucky smiled at you tiredly, wrapping his arms around you to pull you closer. “Hopefully that made your day a little better.”

“Mhm,” you mumbled against his lips. “Much.”

#Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fluff #Winter Soldier #winter soldier smut #winter soldier imagine #winter soldier one shot #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x yn #winter soldier x yn #winter soldier x reader #marvel #marvel series #the avengers #marvel imagine #the avengers imagine #smut fic #frances writes #frances song fics

[unmaskedagain]

Mean Queens

            This was for a prompt I mentioned earlier today. I decided to test my hand at Loyal!Alya fic to see how it plays out. Hope you like it.

           Marinette had officially been exiled to the back of the class and excommunicated. Lila and most of the class had been waiting for Marinette to arrive; each with cold looks on their faces. The bluenette had looked for Alya, hoping her bestie could tell her what was going on. But there was no sign of the glasses-wearing girl yet. So she had tried to catch Adrien’s eye but he had refused to make eye contact.

           Then it all came out.

           The class accused her of being a mean and horrible to Lila since the day the Italian girl came to class. Nino told her she’d become even worse of a bully than Chloe. Alix had called her a jealous bitch. Most of the class agreed. Even Sabrina who usually followed around the blonde Queen Bee now clung to the coattails of the newest golden ticket.

           The end result? They weren’t going to be her friends anymore.

“Cool,” Marinette had shrugged and took her seat in the back.

           Chloe got to class just as it happened, took one look around, snorted, and joined Marinette in back; claiming the left seat next to her. She knew the difference between diamonds and fools’ gold. And diamonds are a girls’ best friend.

           Alya arrived not long after. She had been late on purpose. The entire weekend, the class minus two (Marinette and Chloe) had been firing messages back and forth in a group chat about Marinette. It had started Friday after school. Nearly everyone had bashed their once favorite bluenette while Alya had been the only one to defend her. Adrien just said he wanted to stay out of it. Things took a dark turn when Alix admitted and joked to tripping Marinette as revenge. Then Mylene admitting that spilling coffee all over Marinette’s sketchbook hadn’t been an accident. It got worse from there. However, they all claimed it was in defense of Lila. Alya was left stunned. Nothing Marinette could’ve done deserved any of what they did. How could she be so blind as to not see that the so-called “accidents” weren’t accidents at all.

           No matter what Lila said, Alya just couldn’t believe Marinette was capable of such things. She had known the girl far too long. And honestly, she was a little surprised the kids who she knew had known Marinette since like pre-k and then suddenly they could think the worse of the so-called “Everyday Ladybug”.

           To make it worse, the things they said about Marinette were terrible and just mean. The girl who had done so much for them deserved better. So Alya kept fighting for her friend, trying to convince her friends that something wasn’t right. Maybe Lila was a bit confused or something.

           But they wouldn’t listen.

           Then Alya thought maybe if she could get Marinette to realize how amazing Lila was then everything would be fine. She just needed to show Marinette proof.

           …There was none.

           There was literally no evidence backing up any of Lila’s stories. Not even the ones about her mom being an ambassador. The only real information about anything fantastic the Italian girl did came from the Ladyblog. And Alya had deleted that video within seconds upon the realization that Lila hadn’t been telling the truth.

           Alya didn’t hesitate to create another group chat about trying to explain that maybe something was a bit fishy about Lila. She spent most of Saturday just trying to get them to listen to her. But she just got accused of being biased. Even Nino had blatantly told her that she was too close to Marinette to see what she was really like.

Was this how Marinette felt, she had found herself wondering.

“Can you prove she doesn’t actually know Ladybug?” The words tasted sour in Alya’s mouth. The more she thought about them, the worst the taste and feeling in her stomach got. Though she had remained silent the look Marinette had given Alya was like the bluenette was questioning her sanity. Or maybe her intelligence.

           Because Alya was officially questioning both about herself.

           Of course, Marinette could prove Lila didn’t know Ladybug! She was the one who originally helped Alya get her first big interview with the hero.

           And when Alya realized (remembered) that, she also remembered that fact Marinette knew Jagged Stone very well and could easily dispute Lila’s cat and plane story. Her bestie also knew Clara Nightingale and managed to become friends with the superstar; there was no way Marinette wouldn’t ask the singer if she knew Lila Rossi. She probably already had. And the answer was probably no.

           Alya pinched her nose to fight the urge to slap herself. The idea that Clara Nightingale stole Lila’s dance moves was obviously a ridiculous lie; one she had eaten up.

           By Sunday morning, Lila had subtly hinted that her classmates’ chances of meeting all the celebrities she knew and the opportunities they stood a chance for were decreasing. Or as Lila texted:

No one wants to be associated with a bully. (sad emoji)

I’d hate it if people thought you were one too.

They’d never work with you then.

           That was all it took for the class to agree to drop Marinette like a hot potato.

           And that was the final nail in the coffin as far as Alya was concerned.

           She was at Marinette less than half an hour later. Alya apologized for not believing Marinette about Lila. She had taken off her glasses when she began to cry. She handed her phone over, and let Marinette read the group texts. The hurt that flashed over the Asian’s girl face nearly broke Alya’s heart.

“You’re my best friend,” Alya had stated firmly. “I should’ve trusted you. I should’ve had your back. I’ll do better. I’ll be better.”

           Marinette wiped tears from her face. “You had my back when it counted the most.” A cold look appeared on her face. “Tomorrow, we’ll find out who’s really my friend.”

           Alya agreed but wanted to point out that friends didn’t do what they did. She couldn’t stop herself from remembering all the nasty words and mean jokes they made about her bestie. “Okay, but then we get revenge.”

“Nothing to mean.”

“No promises.”

           Alya looked at the faces of the kids who she was once her friends; to be clear, they weren’t anymore. She couldn’t trust them. If they could turn on someone like as awesome Marinette for a few sickly sweet promises and false tears, then they’d drop Alya, who could admit to herself she wasn’t nearly as nice as the bluenette, in a hot second.

           She didn’t bother saying good morning to them. Alya shook her head and promptly walked to the back of the class and sat in the right (in more ways than one) desk next to Marinette’s. To her credit, Alya didn’t blink twice at Chloe’s new chosen seat; as she far she was concerned Marinette needed all the friends she could get.

Alya crossed her arms and glared at the class. A cold fury filling her. Still, she gave her ex-friends, Nino (her soon to ex-boyfriend), Lila a small smile and a chuckle, “You have no idea who you’re dealing with.”

           There would be hell to pay for they did her best friend. This wasn’t war. No, War meant the ingrates in her class actually stood a chance. They didn’t. It was Marinette, Alya, and Chloe versus everyone else. This was a war, it was an execution.

           First thing first was they had to plan.

           After school, the three girls met up at Marinette’s.

“No matter more being a doormat, Dupain… Marinette,” Chloe corrected at the last second.

           Marinette frowned, “I’m not a doormat.”

“You kind of are girl,” Alya said, despite the part of herself that hated agreeing with Chloe. They were on the same side, she reminded herself, the same team. “You’re are constantly running around to help everyone. You’re constantly doing favors; handing out free custom design clothes, banners, food, the works. And they treat you like dirt. They’ve been treating you like dirt, and yet you still help. It’s not right. I never thought it was.”

At first, Alya hadn’t said anything because she was too new and didn’t want to step on anyone’s toes. But she should’ve.

“It has to stop,” Alya continued. “They’re not your friends anymore; you don’t owe anyone anything. Even if they were; your designs are way too badass to be giving them away for free.”

           Marinette nodded. She could agree to that

           Chloe put a hand on her hip, “The three of us are the most formidable girls in class; possibly the entire school. Outside of class, most of the school loved Mariette; the artists, the geeks, the fashion club, bakers’ club. Thanks to the Ladyblog, Alya is the most known girl at school; people trust her because Ladybug trusts her. Me? I’m the richest girl in school and I throw the best parties; the elite follows me because they have no choice, and the popular because they don’t want to risk not getting an invite. As hot and as smart as we are, we are ruling that hellhole. You know what our problem is?” She didn’t wait for an answer. “Marinette’s too nice. I’m too bossy. Alya’s too stubborn.”

           It wasn’t the first time or the millionth that someone calls Alya stubborn. “We need to work as a unit; they come at one of us, they come at all of us. Lila isn’t done yet.”

“She lied her way to the top,” Marinette said. “As long as she thinks I’m any kind of threat to her, she won’t stop.

           Chloe nodded, “Mostly because of the tops a long way from the bottom and it’s her social status, her reputation, everything she got since she came to school that’s on the line. The fall will kill her;”

“Then let’s make sure she takes our ex-friends with her,” Alya said darkly. “We got nowhere being nice and honest. Lets’ try mean and ruthless.”

           Marinette wanted to protest but the texts from her so-called friends still tore at her. They had said so many hurtful things; about Marinette, her designs, her parents’ bakery. It was terrible. “What do you have in mind?”

           Alya smirked, “We’re going full scorched earth.”

           Revenge is a dish best served cold.

           They let the class think they were safe; let the worry of any potential consequences slowly fade from their minds. It took weeks before their ex-friends would stop reading themselves for an attack whenever Chloe, Alya, or even Marinette entered the room. And during those weeks, the girls assembled their powerbases; slowly but surely, they took their rightful places at the top of the social hierarchy.

           A few of the so-called Queen Bee of the school took afront of this and did their best to sabotage each other

           But what none of the other social climbers expected was for the three to combine their forces. Marinette, Chloe, and Alya were cold and merciless in defense of their new positions; each one using their own unique still to remove or outright destroy their competition and anyone else that got in their way.

           However, it was until Olivia Knight, the former most popular girl in school, popularity fell to just above the Goth kids that people finally got the message.

           There were Three new queens in their school. Call them the Lannisters, Call them the Tyrells, or the Baratheons’; whatever However the message was the same. The Queens would do anything it took to keep their thrones.

           Two months; nine parties, one school election, a dance (where Chloe was elected Queen) and joining seven clubs between them Marinette: Fashion and Art. Alya: Track and Comic Book Club. Chloe: Mathletes and Drama. Finally, all three joined the World Travels’ Club. That way they had a foot in with the nerds, jocks, the geeks, the loners, the goths, and (by way of throwing awesome parties) the popular kids. And Marinette, Chloe, and Alya were officially the most popular girls in school.

           Marinette and Alya were surprised to learn the kids from Bustier’s class were lower on the overall school’s popularity scale than the creepy loner kid that hangs out behind the gym and smokes. They only really hung out with each other and seemed to have more problems than any other class in school. The main idea seemed to be that Bustier’s class was black hole no one ever managed to crawl out of until Alya, Chloe, and Marinette surfaced. Or a budding cult. Now that they had broken free, the three could see how they had gotten that idea.

           When they were in class, it was like they were in their own world. They were all in high school now but most still acted as they did on their first days of middle school. It was like they refused to grow up, mature mentally and emotionally. Bustier never seemed to mind.

           She was a hindrance. She blamed the victim and protected the bullies.

           It was why Bustier had to go.

           Getting Bustier fired was remarkable easy. A week’s work of videos of what life was life every day in her class, and she was gone.

           A substitute didn’t come to replace her. No someone (Chloe) had leaned on Damocles hard to get the entire class split up until a permanent one could be found. Thus they were in for a hard lesson.

           The first? Who really ruled the school?

           The best part was for that ditch the girls were planning on leaving their ex-friends in, those morons brought the shovel themselves.

           It took a few days for Bustier’s class to settled into their classes and schedule but once they did, they immediately tried to go back to their old ways.

           The teachers shut down most of it; making it clear they would NOT be tolerating any crap.

           Still, that didn’t stop everyone.

           Bustier’s students, as they would be known by the students and teachers, yelled out they’re answered, frequently disrupted the class, argued loudly with each other.

           Lila tried to spin her stories again but Marinette and Alya already spread the truth about how much of a liar she was so one bought anything she said. Most just ignored her. Lila didn’t like that. She thrived off attention. No attention meant Akumas. Unfortunately, this just caused Lila to look even more immature than she already did.

           When Alix “accidentally” tripped Marinette. Marinette let herself fall, crash, and spill all her school supplies. Alix and Mylene snickered.

           Aurore who had witnessed the event didn’t hesitate to call them out, drawing the attention of the other students. They saw Marinette on the floor, Alix and Mylene laughing and came to the correct conclusion. Marinette’s new friends rushed to help her, glaring viciously at the two girls while she did so.

           Word spread quickly. And then Alya “accidentally” let it slip about the mean texts about Marinette. And then Chloe “accidentally” revealed all of the classes’ dirty little secrets; things that had only be known by Bustier’s students. Rumors flew.

           It wasn’t long before most of the student body would rather be seen with the creepy loner smoker kid than with any of Bustier’s students.

            No one realized just how true that statement was until Marinette announced yet another fantastic party. Chloe, Marinette, and Alya had become known for them.

           …This party was different.

           Usually, it was a mass invite; welcoming anyone and everyone.

           This party was an invitation-only which was strange because it seemed like everyone in school was invited. Until they got to the party that Friday night and realized just who wasn’t.

           Bustier’s students.

           It was the worse sentence the Queen could’ve delivered to their ex-friends. It wasn’t just a drop on the popularity scale. It wasn’t social exile. The message was clear; Marinette, Chloe, and Alya would not tolerate their ex-friends whatsoever.

           No one wanted to get on the girls’ bad side. No one would even consider risking it. No one wanted to be the next Olivia Knight. Olivia who never fully recovered her reputation or her social status; most of her old friends wouldn’t even speak to her anymore. They were not about to put their necks on the line for losers Bustier’s class.

           They’d only lose their heads.

           The (Demon) Queens of school decreed it, by next Monday, the students of Bustier’s class would be deleted.

           And yet that still wouldn’t be enough for them.

           As far as they were concerned they were only just getting started.

           Move over Heathers, Plastics, the Queens have arrived.

#ml salt #ml fic #alya deserves better #class salt #a little bit of adrien salt #marinette dupain cheng

[ourloveisforthelovely]

In Love and Death chapter 13

Harry Potter AU 

Link to Chapter 12

Pairings: Regulus Black x Reader 

Rating: M

____

“You’re pregnant, Y/n, and I am just curious, does Regulus know?”

You stood looking at Evan with wide eyes. Everyone was going to find out the truth sooner or later. You weren’t going to be able to hide under oversized sweaters or kitchen counters forever.

“I would sure hope that he knows.”

You snapped before adding.

“Now will you hush before everyone else hears?”

Before Evan could respond, Tonks and Remus fell through the kitchen door. Tonks looked up with a huge blush on her face. You groaned.

“Were you two listening at the door?”

Remus stood up and pulled Tonks up with him. He quickly dusted off his shirt before turning to you.

“I was coming to make tea and she was hovering by the keyhole.”

Tonks was across the room and had you in a giant hug before you were able to move.

“How did that potion work so fast? I didn’t think it could be possible…”

“She didn’t take the potion.”

Regulus replied as he stepped into the kitchen He had heard the commotion from the other room and figured it was best to go ahead and get this moment over with.

“You mean to tell me that you two did it….”

Regulus rolled his eyes at Tonks’ question.

“Yes, we did it.”

Tonks squealed even louder.

“Why didn’t you tell us?”

You carefully wiggled away from your best friend in order to breathe.

“Well, we wanted to make sure that everything was okay before running our mouths. It looks like Evan was just a bit slicker than I planned.”

Evan grinned.

“I just know things.”

He had to stifle a laugh at the expression on Regulus’ face.

“Well, I guess you would know. The funny thing about you knowing everything is the fact that you thought having Emma jump up and down after sex would stop her from getting pregnant.”

Evan’s sly smile faded as Regulus smiled slyly. You, meanwhile, shook your head and went back to the sink.

“And another reason why teenagers having sex is stupid stupid stupid.”

Evan scowled in your direction.

“And if we hadn’t you wouldn’t be here.”

“Okay, we can stop this conversation.”

Regulus hissed. The less that he had to talk about events in the past the happier that he would be. Evan nodded.

“I agree. Horrible conversation...our past sucked.”

“Evan, I said stop.”

Regulus muttered. Tonks looked away from the little spat that Evan and Regulus were having and turned back to you.

“How far are you?”

“3 ½ months.”

Tonks squealed.

“I’m so happy for you. Everything is going to be just fine.”

You nodded but was still a bit worried about how long “just fine” would last?

“Things in my life just don’t go fine, Dora. Something is going to go crazy before long. I just know it.”

Tonks smiled and lovingly pulled you into a hug.

“It's just baby jitters. I promise everything will be fine. Just take a step back and take a few nice breaths.”

The following three months passed without much excitement and you were just fine with it. To appease Regulus, you agreed to stop working as much. You weren’t as thrilled as he was about it, however. Sitting locked in Grimmauld Place day after day was beginning to get old. Whenever Tonks went off for a raid or a mission for the order, you sat watching her with an expression of jealousy on your face. You had never been a “sit back and take it easy” type.

You were thankful when Christmas time came around and this year it was going to be at the burrow. Christmas was going to be a good time but also a nerve wrecking time. You knew that Harry was going to realize about your condition. Part of you was concerned that he and Regulus were going to have some kind of epic showdown.

No one needs that.

You muttered, stepping into the burrow. Regulus had already promised that he would be on his best behavior. Glancing to your love, Regulus had his serious expression on his face. Regulus’ level of “protective boyfriend” had gone from 1 to 1,000 over the past few months. Something told you that if Harry started something Regulus would have no issue with finishing it.

“Reggie…”

His eyes rolled over to you darkly.

“I told you that I won’t hurt him. I’ll be nice.”

Regulus struggled with the word “nice.” While Regulus knew that killing Harry wasn’t an option that didn’t mean that he couldn’t break off a few pieces. Regulus quickly shook the thoughts from his head. If he hurt Harry in the slightest, you would be furious with him...that was the last thing that Regulus wanted.

When you gave him a sweet smile, Regulus knew that you were pleased with his answer.

“Thank you, love.”

Harry, Ron, and Hermione sat at the table eagerly talking to Kingsley when you stepped in with Regulus behind you. It had been a few months since you had seen Kingsley. He looked up with a surprised smile. Clearly, he was surprised with your condition as anyone else.

“Well, look at that...someone finally caught you.”

Kingsley’s comment itself made you laugh. He of all people knew how you felt about having children and now here you were having one.

“Yeah, it looks like it.”

You commented before turning to face Harry. He sat with his mouth open while Ron and Hermione had wide eyes.

“It's good to see you all.”

Hermione was the first one to be able to speak. From the first time that she had seen you with Regulus, Hermione had a feeling that this relationship was a lot more serious than Harry believed. She had been trying to convince Harry since that day in the hospital to give up on any hopes of getting into a relationship with you. Now that you were having a child with Regulus there was just another nail in the proverbial coffin.

“Y/n, we had no idea. Congratulations.”

You smiled. Hermione’s comment was stunned yet genuine. Harry sat quietly for a moment longer.

“Yeah...congratulations. If you all will excuse me...I think Mr. Weasley needed some help with something.”

Regulus, meanwhile, gave Harry a small smile and a little sarcastic wave as the boy left the room. Again, Regulus wasn’t for sure why he was so insecure when it came to Harry but he was. The boy was turning Regulus into one hell of a petty bitch. He knew that he didn’t have anything to worry about but antagonizing him seemed to be fun.

Remus, meanwhile, had watched the whole thing with an annoyed expression on his face. You gave Remus an annoyed look as if telling him how “not in the mood for this” you were. Remus quickly stood.

“Regulus and Harry I want to talk to you both...alone.”

Both Regulus and Harry frowned before following Remus into another room. Remus turned with a loud sigh.

“Whatever you two have going on between each other needs to stop. This has gone on long enough. Harry, I am sorry but Y/n is in love with Regulus and they are having a child together. Regulus, getting under Harry’s skin isn’t fair for him or for Y/n. Whether you like it or not, Y/n and Harry have had a long friendship that shouldn’t be disrupted because of your relationship. I will also say that Y/n doesn’t deserve to have to choose between the two of you. Do you both understand?”

Regulus and Harry looked at each other out of the corners of their eyes before nodding.

“Fine.”

Regulus muttered. Remus did have a point. As you got further along, Regulus didn’t want to give you any reason to be more stressed. He could be nice (or his version of nice) to Harry for now once the kid was born, Regulus could gleefully go back to antagonizing Harry.

“You’re right.”

Harry replied. Remus smiled.

“Good, now I don’t care if you like each other. You can hate each other for what it's worth but let's act like adults. If the two of you care about Y/n then you will put your petty differences aside.”

“Okay.”

Harry responded. Regulus didn’t make any facial expression.

“Do I have to hug him?”

Remus groaned.

“Regulus, did you hear anything that I said?”

Regulus gave Remus an extra sassy nod.

“I’m not deaf. I’ll be...nice to him but I’m not hugging him.”

Remus put a hand over his face.

“Fine...go find Y/n and be pleasant to her.”

The next hour passed with a bit more peace. Harry and Regulus could be in the same room with each other without shouting insults at each other. You had been talking quietly to Tonks when Harry made a comment about Draco being a death eater.

“Draco Malfoy a death eater?”

You questioned. Harry nodded as Hermione shook her head.

“Yes, Y/n. Harry is under the impression that Draco is now a death eater.”

This wasn’t surprising news to you. If there was one person that you had always expected to see as a death eater it was Draco Malfoy. Although you considered Draco to be a giant coward, if his father told him to be a death eater, he would do it.

“He is, Hermione. There is no denying it.”

You glanced over at Regulus, who had sat up after hearing what he wanted in the conversation.

“If he’s anything like his father then he’s a giant pussy.”

“Regulus.”

You said his name with a smirk. Regulus shrugged.

“It's the truth. Love. Lucius never does anything unless it's going to make him look good. You should have seen him at his initiation. It was laughable.”

Harry found himself staring at the dark mark on Regulus’ arm that was clearly visible under his rolled-up sleeves.

“What was yours?”

Regulus’ eyes flickered to Harry before he smiled. He ignored how you were looking at him with wary eyes. It didn’t matter that you were raised with the dark arts, Regulus could see the discomfort brewing under the surface.

“You don’t want to know. How old is Draco?”

“16”

Hermione answered.

“The same age that I was. Voldemort must be getting desperate for followers again. Look, if you think that your little classmate is a death eater then he most likely is. I would tell you if he was or wasn’t but I, unfortunately, don’t have the contacts that I used to.”

Harry scooted to the edge of his seat. Regulus’ unbothered tone when speaking about being a death eater made him nervous. The expression on your face didn’t help either.

“How did you just quit? I thought that it was for life.”

Harry questioned. Regulus smirked again.

“It is for life. Trust me, I don’t lay low just for shits and giggles. If they get me...let's just say it won’t be pretty.”

“Can we stop this conversation?”

You asked. Although you knew, what would happen if another death eater got their hands on Regulus, you didn’t want to think of it. He was a traitor in their eyes and that wasn’t something that was looked highly upon by Voldemort. You would never see Regulus again and at the moment you couldn't mentally handle that thought.

The rest of the night passed without much excitement. Tonks and Remus decided to leave a little early. Remus was feeling rough due to his cycle and wanted nothing more than to pass out. Molly had offered to keep Teddy in order for his parents to have one night of peace. Stepping outside the door, you frowned at how Remus was looking out into the darkness. Tonks evidently was seeing the same thing.

“Sweetheart?”

She said in a sweet loving tone. Before Remus could respond there was a loud bang followed by fire surrounding the burrow. In front of you stood none other than freaking Bellatrix Lestrange.

“That bitch. I have been looking for her!”

You snapped as Harry pushed his way through the bodies in the doorway.

“Harry!”

Remus and Tonks shouted at the same time as he took off down the steps and across the lawn. Before you could register what was going on Ginny too was down the steps going after Harry all while ignoring her parent's panicked screams.

“Oh like hell, this is going to happen.”

You hissed before pulling loose from the grip that Regulus had on you. Taking off the steps, you ignored Regulus screaming for you to stop. Taking your wand out, you cleared a path through the fire. You were not about to watch one of your best friends die when there was plenty that you could do.

_____

@amelie-black

@truly-insatiable

@lucasfilms77

@fandomsxxregulus

@realgaytrash

@spiderxalmighty

@exhsle

@knreidy1

@whymyparentscheckmyphone

@criminalyetminimal

@jessyballet

@brokencasbutt67-writer

@authoressskr

@fandom-trash-worth-it

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@summer-novak

@shaylybaby2032

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@li0nh34rt

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@shadows-and-padlocked-hearts

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@stuckinsaudi1

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#Regulus Black #Regulus Black x Reader #Sirius Black #Remus Lupin #Nymphadora Tonks #Molly Weasley #Arthur Weasley #Harry Potter #Hermione Granger #Ron Weasley #ginny weasley #Evan Rosier #timothee chalamet as regulus black #ben barnes as sirius black #regulus x reader #reader x regulus #harry x reader (in his mind) #harry potter fan fiction #regulus black fics #regulus arcturus black #sirius orion black #the ancient and noble house of black #the rosier family #Bellatrix Lestrange #former death eater regulus #In Love and Death #In Love and Death Chapter 13 #update

[mypunkpansexualtwin]

Surprise, surprise! A third timely post for pegoryu week! I'll definitely be passing the fuck out after this.

As per usual, bulk under the cut, link in the notes, and all my love to those who recommend it to their friends!

Ryuji was running, feet pounding against the concrete hard enough to rattle his teeth, cold air sharp against his face, lungs burning for a break as the shout echoed off the nearby buildings.

“GET YOUR ASS BACK HERE YOU DAMN BRAT!”

His old man was mad at him again, and maybe he had it coming this time, yelling at him the way he had when he overheard the grownups talking. But this was supposed to be a nice vacation for New Year’s with his grandparents in the country. His father said he’d taken the week off for family, and promised him he was gonna be better when the new year started. Turned out that was a load of crap; he didn’t take the time off, he’d been suspended for a week for turning up drunk on the job. Drunk and pissed off, just like he was now, not ten minutes after the first New Year’s countdown Ryuji had ever been allowed to stay up for. Bastard was never gonna change.

“I HATE YOU, YOU RUIN EVERYTHING!” Ryuji screamed back as tears blurred his vision. “GET AWAY FROM ME!” He had no idea which way he was going, half blind from crying and unfamiliar with his surroundings. Ignoring the string of profanity being bellowed behind him, he turned off the path and into the darker, wilder area behind the shrine. Why weren’t any of the adults nearby stopping his father? Why wasn’t anyone helping? Crunching footsteps were drawing closer with each step and he could feel another sob trying to bubble up out of his throat. The old bastard was too close and he could already feel the bruises he was gonna have when a hand caught him by the back of the shirt and hauled him back--

--into a nearby shrub. Panic was still too loud in his brain and he thrashed in his assailant’s grip before realizing that the hands holding him were too small, too soft, too gentle--

“Shhh,” A small voice soothed in his ear, soft enough he almost didn’t hear it over his father stomping through the undergrowth nearby. Part of Ryuji was too wound up, wanted to bite the hand over his mouth and keep running, but the rest of him recognized that’d just give away his hiding spot and get both of them caught. Instead he wrapped a hand around their wrist and felt them pull him closer. In spite of his old man being within arm’s reach and out for blood worse than he’d seen in a long time, Ryuji relaxed. Just a little.

After a few moments, his father muttered darkly under his breath and started kicking at some of the bushes around him. Ryuji gripped the wrist in his hand a little tighter as his father’s foot brushed their hiding spot. His mystery rescuer let go of his jacket to hold his free hand and squeeze it reassuringly. Seconds stretched on for ages as his old man got closer and closer, and Ryuji’s heart hammered in his chest like it was trying to break out and escape. Finally, another voice called out, pulling his old man’s attention away from them. One of his aunts had appeared long enough to drag her drunken brother away before he could embarrass the family any further.

A few seconds after they disappeared from view, Ryuji untangled himself and lurched out of his hiding spot. He dusted himself off after sprawling out clumsily in the dirt, then checked himself over; kinda dusty, a few scratches on his face from the whippy little branches he’d run though, and… Crap.

“Aww man, I lost one of my mittens. I only just got those for Christmas,” he grumbled.

“We can look for it on the way back to the shrine.” His mystery rescuer had apparently just clambered out of their hiding spot too. Ryuji was ready to wave them off and tell them to not worry about it, but when he finally got a good look at them it was like every word he’d ever learned went on their own vacation.

“Whoa… Are you an angel or somethin’?” He blurted instead. This kid definitely looked like an angel, with a pretty round face almost as soft as the wild black curls around it and grey eyes that looked like nighttime--stars and all under the moonlight--that were almost too big for their face. Way too pretty to be a boy, especially with eyelashes like flower petals and a voice as soft and sweet as a music box. Yeah, probably an angel, definitely a girl. Only seven years old and Ryuji had already found his soulmate. Hiding in a shrub. Wearing a Buchimaru hat.

Mystery girl blushed and giggled behind a matching Buchimaru glove. “No, I’m just Akira. Akira Kurusu, first grade. What does your mitten look like?” Huh, never met a girl named Akira.

“Uh, like this? It’s a yellow Featherman one.” He held up the hand that still had a mitten on, then awkwardly thrust it out for a handshake. “A-and I’m Ryuji Sakamoto, also in first grade! Nice to meetcha, Kicchan!” Akira took the handshake with a small, shy smile, blushing bright enough that she almost matched the red jacket she was wrapped up in.

“Um. Nice to meet you too, Ryuji.” She thought for a moment, then moved around to his side and took his other hand in both of hers, warm even through the gloves. It was his turn to blush. “Here, so your hand doesn’t get cold while we look for your mitten.” Akira pulled him along and he needed a minute to remember how to walk so he didn’t fall over. She seemed to have things handled guiding them back out.

“You came from this way, right?” She looked back and tipped her head towards a hole through the undergrowth where his father had crashed through. Ryuji nodded and she pulled him along a little more insistently, scanning the path for any flash of yellow.

“Thanks for savin’ me, by the way. Kinda thought I was doomed back there.” Ryuji scratched the back of his neck. Kicchan shrugged but didn’t pause their trek or her search for his mitten.

“You needed help. I had a hiding spot. Figured I could share,” she explained like it was the most obvious thing in the world. Like every adult he’d run past hadn’t ignored him.

Ryuji nodded anyways. It was them who got it wrong, not Akira. “Right. Why were you hidin’ anyways?” Something in his stomach twisted at the thought of her running away from a dad as shitty as his. His fingers tightened around her hand just a little; he was gonna protect her twice as hard if that was the case.

Kicchan picked up a flash of yellow sticking out from under a pile of dead leaves, then frowned when it turned out to be a hamburger wrapper. “Don’t lemme forget to throw this away,” she crumpled it up and stuck it in her pocket. “I was back here ‘cause the shrine was too loud. I come back here sometimes when I need quiet. Then I heard someone yelling and stomping around, so I hid. And then you ran by.” She turned back and smiled at him and wow. People talked about getting butterflies in your stomach around someone you liked, but he was pretty sure he had Mothra rampaging around in his gut. “Oh!”

“Huh?” Ryuji was dragged along as Akira jogged up to a tree that he’d whipped around hoping to shake the old man off. Then she reached up for-- “Oh! My mitten!” It had gotten stuck to the bark somehow when he’d pushed off of it. Akira pulled it down and presented it to Ryuji with a flourish and a grin.

He took it and quickly crammed his hand back into it, then wiggled and flexed his fingers until it sat right again. After several minutes of not having a hand in it, the mitten had gone cold. And his fingers felt even colder not wrapped up with Akira’s.

“Hey, uh Kicchan? C-could we still hold hands?” He asked. “Um! J-just so I don’t lose you and get lost! That’s all!”

Kicchan giggled again, just as red as her coat again as she held her hand out for him. “Sure thing, Ryuji.” One reassuring squeeze later and they were walking again. “But we aren’t very far now, you can hear all the people from here.”

Ryuji strained his ears listening, then chuckled nervously because she was right. “Oh. You can, huh? W-well, still. Better safe than sorry.” They swung their hands between them for a few steps. “Hey, is it okay that I’m callin’ you Kicchan? You’re just callin’ me Ryuji, I ain’t bein’ rude am I?”

“Hm? No, it’s fine. I, um. Like it,” she mumbled and tucked her face into her coat. “Your name’s just nice to say is all. Ry~u~ji~♪!” Akira enunciated his name in a singsong that probably would’ve sounded mocking from anyone else. But from her it just sounded like music. He couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled up in his chest and the grin that broke out across his face.

“Yeah, well. Yours is nicer!” Ryuji declared loudly as they walked out of the trees and through the crowd of adults still celebrating. “A~ki~ra~♪!” He sang back, although not nearly as nice. Kicchan still seemed happy with it, if that smile was anything to go by. Like the sun breaking through the clouds and wow. Wow. He was gonna marry her when he grew up. Ryuji didn’t even care about all the people staring at them as they walked by, as long as he got to keep that smile.

“Ry~u~ji~♪!”

“A~ki~ra~♪!”

“Ry~u~ji~♪!”

“A~ki~ra~♪!”

“Ryuji!” The two of them jumped at the voice that rang out behind them. “Ryuji, there you are!”

“Mom!”

His mother skidded to a stop in front of them and threw her arms around him, squeezing him tight. “Oh, I was so worried, sunshine, I’m so sorry. Are you alright? Did he--?”

Ryuji wiggled free of her grip long enough to loop his free arm around her and return the hug. He brushed a hand lightly over a bruise above her eyebrow that hadn’t been there earlier, and she shook her hair over her eyes to try and cover it back up. That bastard. No need to worry her, then. “I’m fine, mom. I’m fast as lightnin’ remember? Plus my new friend saved me! We hid until Aunt Manaka got him.” Hana’s eyes flicked back to the kid holding onto her son’s hand, now trying to hide behind him. “‘S okay, Kicchan, it’s just my mom. She’s nice.”

Akira had tucked herself down into her shoulders and her voice was muffled through the collar of her coat. “H’lo. I’m Akira.”

Hana smiled warmly at Akira and held out a hand for her to shake. “Hello, Akira-chan, my name’s Hana Sakamoto. Thank you for taking care of my boy.” Kicchan took it cautiously, but stayed tucked behind a Ryuji who was awkwardly pretzeled from still trying to hold onto both of them.

“Y’r welcome. He’s nice, I like him,” Akira mumbled and took her hand back to cling to Ryuji’s arm with both. Ryuji blushed again and his mom grinned at him.

She straightened up and ruffled her son’s hair affectionately. “I like him, too. He’s a good kid. And so are you, Akira-chan. How ‘bout I treat you two to some cocoa and taiyaki to warm back up, and then we can find your folks too, kiddo.” Akira nodded and pointed to a nearby storefront that was still lit up. “Perfect! So I know red bean is Ryuji’s favorite, how about you?”

Akira was being quiet enough that even Ryuji, already at her level, still had to listen hard to hear her. “Chocolate, please.” There was no way his mom could hear her.

“Chocolate for Kicchan, please!” Ryuji relayed for them.

Hana nodded approvingly. “Chocolate and hot cocoa, I like your style.” She took Ryuji’s other hand and led them through the crowd to the convenience store taking full advantage of the New Year’s revelers. Ryuji and Akira stayed outside, still holding hands and leaned up against the wall while she went in. Better that than drag the kids through a bunch of unsteady adults bickering over snacks. She returned with a hot cocoa and a taiyaki for each of them after a few minutes and Ryuji and Akira finally, hesitantly let go of each other long enough to eat.

“Th’nk you,” Akira mumbled.

“Kicchan says thanks!”

“Just Kicchan, huh?” His mom teased.

“Wh- I do too!”

Hana laughed, then craned her neck to look through the thinning crowd. “So where are your parents--”

“Akira! Akira, there you are!” A woman with dark curls and grey eyes called out, striding through the crowd like a fish moving through water.

Kicchan straightened up and waved with her half-eaten taiyaki. “Hi mama!” She called louder than Ryuji thought she was capable of. “Where’s papa? I wanted him to meet my new friend.”

The woman, apparently Mrs. Kurusu, frowned that Adults Having Adult Problems frown. “He got called into work, apparently the man who was supposed to be on shift is indisposed,” she explained in the kind of tone that folks tended to use about his old man. “So we need to get going soon.”

“Awww.”

“I know, dear.” Akira’s mom turned to Ryuji’s mom. “Thank you for watching my son. Can I at least pay you back for the snacks?” She gestured to the three of them--wait, hold up, what?

“Your son?!” Ryuji yelped. Akira tilted her--his head at Ryuji in confusion.

“Yeah? What, did you think I was a girl or something?” He giggled, and it didn’t sound any different than before. But it was. But it wasn’t.

“Uh, yeah! Boys ain’t allowed to be that pretty! It’s illegal! You gotta like, go to Pretty Jail or somethin’!” Ryuji shouted and pointed an accusing mitten at him. Akira was still laughing at him, still smiling that smile that was still making his stomach all flippy. Their moms were laughing at him too; Ryuji’s loud and shameless in a way he hadn’t heard in a while, Akira’s in a soft way that just made Akira make more sense.

“That’s okay. I’ll just break out,” Akira shrugged, then looked up at his mother. “Can my friend stay the night? He’s really nice. And so is Sakamoto-san.”

Ryuji bounced on his toes a few times. “Oh! Can I?” Okay, so Akira was a boy. That just meant they could hang out more instead. Maybe he hadn’t met his soulmate in a shrub, maybe he wasn’t gonna marry Akira someday, but he could definitely go for a sleepover.

“I don’t think…” Kurusu-san started, but her eyes caught on Hana’s forehead and she hesitated. Their moms seemed to have one of those ‘Grownups Having A Whole Conversation Without Talking’ looks before she started talking again. “Actually, that sounds like a lovely idea, honey. You boys look to be about the same size. You can share one of your extra sets of pajamas,” she said more to Akira than anyone else. “And Sakamoto-san can come over for tea while your father’s at work. I could use the company.” The last bit was aimed at Ryuji’s mom with a smile, but the tone felt like when he was being told to do his chores. Don’t argue with me, it’s for your own good.

Hana smiled tiredly, then nodded and sighed. “Alright, alright, I know when I’m outvoted. I’ll follow you,” she said to Kurusu-san.

“Woohoo!” Ryuji pumped his fist and grabbed at Akira’s shoulder. “We’re gonna stay up all night watching Featherman!”

The other boy nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah! I got the whole box set for Christmas!”

“Sweet!”

Hana interjected with a hand on Ryuji’s shoulder to slow his bouncing, “boys, it is well past midnight, I’d be surprised if you didn’t fall asleep as soon as you’re in pajamas.”

Ryuji pouted up at her. “I ain’t ti--” he paused as he was overwhelmed by a yawn that almost popped his jaw, “--ired, I’ll be fine.”

Akira fell into step with his mother, then froze and whipped around to Ryuji. “Wait! I didn’t make my wish yet! We gotta make a wish at the shrine!”

His hand was ridiculously warm as it wrapped around Ryuji’s, probably from holding the cocoa that he’d hastily dropped in the trash. Before Ryuji could react, Kicchan had grabbed him and was dragging him back in the direction they’d come from.

“Akira!” Kurusu-san called sharply.

“BerightbackIpromise!” He called back to his mom as Ryuji stumbled along with him. They came to a clumsy stop in front of the offertory box and Akira started rifling through his pockets. He frowned at the crumpled burger wrapper he’d meant to throw away, crammed it back into a different pocket, then pulled out two five-hundred yen coins. “One for me and one for you,” he announced proudly and pressed one of them into the palm of Ryuji’s mitten. Rather than argue that he could pay for his own, because honestly he had no idea if he could, he nodded and closed his hand around the gift.

Ryuji watched Akira carefully, then did his best to copy his movements. He hadn’t really done this before without his mom to remind him how, but he knew exactly what he was gonna wish for. Marrying him was definitely probably off the table, but...

I wanna see Kicchan again after we leave.

A few minutes later, they were jogging back to where their moms were waiting for them.

“So, what’d you two wish for?” Hana asked and waggled her eyebrows at Ryuji.

Both boys blushed, looked at each other, and then quickly looked away before falling into step to leave. Their mumbled answers tangled together as they spoke at the same time.

“S-same as always, I guess.”

“‘S a secret.”

Ryuji hoped they wished for the same thing.

---

Three years later his mother divorced that deadbeat asshole, after advice from a stranger to save up behind the drunken bastard’s back, and the help of a lawyer named Kurusu. They had never had time before or a reason after to go back to that little town in the country.

---

Ryuji was running, feet pounding against the concrete hard enough to rattle his teeth, cold air sharp against his face, knee aching for a break as the shout echoed off the nearby buildings.

“Dammit! Screw that pervy teacher!”

“...pervy teacher?”

Ryuji whipped around to the voice behind him, already on the defensive. “What do you want? You plannin’ on rattin’ me out to Kamo… shi… da?”

He couldn’t help but trail off because he knew that face, nerd glasses or no; wild curls like storm clouds, grey eyes almost too big for the face they were set in, voice a hell of a lot deeper after nearly a decade but just as soft, and built in a lanky way that probably hadn’t been mistaken for a girl in years.

“Kicchan? The hell are you doing here?” Ryuji blinked a few times and watched Akira’s posture melt from tense apprehension to open surprise. Then he smiled like sunlight breaking through the clouds and wow. After all those years, there was Mothra in his stomach again. He had been putting off that particular revelation for a while, hadn’t he?

“Ryuji!”

#my writing #persona 5 #pegoryu week 2021 #pegoryu #the return of hana san! #uhh don't let the warning tags throw you off it is actually very sweet

[icollectyoursins]

Gift Headcanons Melone x Reader

Look. I know the holidays have just passed, but I am unashamedly a SIMP for all of La Squadra and I wanna give them gifts. I just love them. So here, have some (mostly) tender gift giving and receiving for da boyz. I’m excluding Sorbet and Gelato because I know next to nothing about them, sorry!

This one was very hard to keep this one SFW, but I tried!

Risotto 

Prosciutto

Pesci

Illuso

Formaggio

Ghiaccio

Have a character, but no idea? Prompt list here!

Looking for more? Master post here!

WARNINGS: Mostly SFW, second bit is light NSFW, no sex, but lingerie is involved.

Word Count: 1559

Giving:

Melone is uh... gross, so most of his gifts are sort of sexual, even if you don’t know it (like very large heels). That being said, he does give some sweet gifts every now and then! It’s always something you’ve been eying for a while or boasting about and 100% a pleasant surprise that makes the nasty things so worth it.

He loves getting you jewelry! Anything from earrings, rings, bracelets, necklaces, body piercings, body jewelry that wraps around you. He just loves making you shine! Or, he’ll impress you with fancy drinks in ridiculous bottles (looking at you Crystal Head Vodka), weird things that he can enjoy with you and then use to decorate the house with. Also (unsurprisingly) lingerie. Any kind that looks good on you he will get it.

He’s honestly a mix of both private and open when giving gifts. You’re together and close, but not 100% alone. He wants a few people to see how happy you two are.

     You sat on the couch with a phone in one hand scrolling through social media while the other idly rubbed circles into Melone’s back. He was hunched over his computer, typing various commands with nimble fingers. It had been so far into the relationship at this point that you didn’t even bother asking what he was doing. You were just there to make sure he didn’t mess up his back too much.

     Suddenly, he sat up, stretching out his back before looking over to you, head still tilted back slightly. He smiled in a way that would have been sweet if it wasn’t Melone, but you got the message. You think.

     “I have something for you, mio caro/mia cara. Would you like it?” He purred. There was something about the sparkle in his pretty blue/green eyes that made you curious and hesitant at the same time.

     “That depends. Am I going to like it?” You teased, letting out a light chuckle which he returned.

     “Of course!” He said, voice full of false defensiveness. “When have I ever given you something you didn’t like?”

     “Do you want a list? I can give you a list!” He laughed again, getting off the couch, waving his hand dismissively at you.

     “No, no need for a list. Just stay where you are, I’ll be back.” Melone kissed the top of your head as he passed behind you. “Oh, and close your eyes.”

     You couldn’t even get out a final quip or protest. He was through the doorway with a coy wink and a smile. You rolled your eyes before closing them, waiting patiently for him to return, though you did look at your phone one time while waiting. What can you say? He took a little longer than you expected and so you had some extra time!

     Finally, he came back with two gifts in hand. One long, slender gift bag which you assumed had some kind of alcohol in it and the other was a thin box wrapped in ribbon. The grin on his face said that this was either innocent, harmless gifts, or something a little on the more devious side. You couldn’t quite tell.

     He swiftly made his way back to the couch, placing the box in your hand while he began showing off the mystery contents of the bag. With slow elegance, he pulled out a rather odd and sensual liquor bottle. He presents it to you on an open palm. From the clearness, you could tell that it was probably vodka or something like that. The bottle was a glass-blown pinup of a woman with her arms folded over her head. Definitely vodka. Only people who made vodka would be this extra. And only Melone would buy a bottle of a naked woman.

     The wicked grin on his face told you that he was very proud of this piece. You laughed light-heartedly, examining the bottle in your hands.

     “Well, it’s certainly unusual!” You mused. “As long as the drink is good, I don’t care!” He grinned, licking his lips as his eyes drifted down to the box. This was his favourite part of tonight. Unless something else were to happen, but that was entirely up to you. 

     Setting the bottle down on the coffee table you moved on, pulling the bow apart with ease. Taking the lid off revealed a thin layer of tissue paper with holographic dots on it, how cute. Underneath was-

     “Melone!” You shrieked. He only chuckled. 

     “There’s more than that, amor mio/amore mio. Here, let me!” He reached it, pulling out a beautiful, delicate gold chain that looked as though it wrapped around your torso with smaller chains crossing over your chest. There was a matching bottom too, with glittering gold hanging off what would be your hips if you were wearing it.

     “Oh, Melone!” Ah, there it was, that wonderful joy only he could bring out. Like music to his ears! “They’re beautiful, thank you so much!”

     He swiftly caught you in a hug, pulling you close to him before he brought your face up to his, pulling you into a passionate kiss that left you breathless. Everyone around you who was staring turned away, giving you a little bit of privacy.

Receiving:

Oh my god, does this man love being spoiled. Melone will love pretty much anything you give him. Honestly, probably was sugar baby at some point (or maybe he’s yours), but yeah, happy receiving lots and lots of gifts from you.

I can see him enjoying sweet things with whipped cream and strawberries, lots of sparkly things and shiny things. Basically, anything he would get you, he would also enjoy receiving. If it’s something you can use erm... together *wink wink* he is, like, basically drooling already.

Does not care how you give him the gift, though if you have the guts to give him that kind of gift in front of people, he will absolutely feel something stir in him. But for the most part, he’s happy with anything.

     You adjusted your “outfit” in the mirror while you were waiting for Melone to find your little treasure hunt. It wasn’t much, just a few small notes hinting towards something more and more as he got closer.

     It started at the door with a cookie and a note telling him to follow the trail to his gift. Once he read it, he was excited in more ways than one. He followed the notes around the house. Some told him to do chores like fold the laundry to get to the bottom where the next clue was, or water the plants.

     He loved every minute of it, happily pairing each sock with its missing partner and smoothing out any creases in shirts. A sweet tune hummed from his chest while he sprayed each delicate flower, smelling the sweet scent until he got dizzy and feeling each leaf to make sure it was healthy before moving onto the next. It was agonizingly slow for both of you, though that was the point. If you were going to tease him all the way to the bedroom, then he was going to make you sit and wait.

     Melone’s eyes flicked up to the clock. He’d been there an hour already. Poor thing must be so tired waiting. But, he still has more chores to do, right? His suspicions were confirmed when he found another note, hidden in a succulent, telling him to grab something from the fridge.

     “Di molto! I wonder what that could be?” He asked the air sarcastically before practically skipping to the fridge where he found another slip of paper saying to look for something sweet and light. A hummed chuckle buzzed on his lips. “Hmm, sweet and light. Sweet and light. I wonder what that could be?”

     You rolled your eyes. The kitchen wasn’t too far from where you were hidden in the bedroom, so you could hear every exaggerated word that he said. You scoffed, muttering out some kind of insult under your breath.

     “Sweet and- Ah! This will be perfect.” He mused, grabbing 2 things from the fridge. You hoped one of them wasn’t honey, but then again, who would keep honey in the fridge? Honestly, probably Melone. Not for any particular reason, just because!

     The door was closed with a joking hip jerk. He didn’t even bother looking for the next clues. He just made his way straight to the bedroom, calling out to you as he entered. You were nowhere to be found, much to his dismay. However, he did find the box you left for him on the bed.

     Eagerly, he tossed what was in his arms onto the bed, then the box lid as he plunged into the gift. His eyes grew wide as he pulled out a harness he’d only been dreaming about using for years. A sound of pleasure rolled through his body. That’s when you came out of your hiding spot, wrapping your arms around him from behind.

     “Oh, you spoil me, mio caro/mia cara!”

     “I know, just don’t get whipped cream on the bed. Or strawberry leaves.” Melone laughed darkly, turning around and wrapping his arms around you.

     “I wouldn’t dream of it,” he whispered against your lips before smashing into them gently. As far as he was concerned, he would do whatever you wanted after tonight!

-----

Translations:

mio caro/mia cara = my darling (masc and fem)

amor mio/amore mio = my love (masc and fem)

#melone #melone x reader #melone jojo #melone prompts #sfw

[vaguely-concerned]

The Mandalorian Chapter 13 rewatch thoughts; the reduced salt edition

or at least I’m trying to be more constructive with the salt in this one let’s goooo

- god I miss the armourer so much. look at how fucking cool she looks, this is the mando design I hunger for so deeply, WHY would you give me boob plates back instead haha 

- I will say with the way it’s presented this place feels way too small to be called a city lol (and I think that limited scale hurts how much I’m willing to accept the magistrate as a credible opponent to go toe to toe with ahsoka freaking tano. maybe if we’d seen directly the extent of the magistrate’s power and influence and not just the burned out wasteland that power leaves behind I’d be more on board with it. canonically she’s clearly been extremely rich and influential on a galactic scale, while the aesthetic filoni takes from samurai movies in this has a lot more to do with local warlords and smaller stakes. this is not the only time the adherence to that aesthetic without adapting it for the emotional story at hand or giving it a spin for novelty hurts the episode #hot take. it’s empty homage without quite understanding why the moments you’re emulating work so well in the context of the story they serve.) 

this might be because how it’s filmed makes it seem like there’s just one big main street towards the magistrate’s palace, it’s implied to be quite a bit bigger from the establishing shot as the crest comes flying in? 

- LOVE the implication that din lets baby play with the silver ball pretty freely while they’re on the ship but sets the (completely sensible tbh) boundary that he can’t bring it with him somewhere outside where he might lose it for good. that seems like reasonable dad-ing, din, well done. 

anyway my heart is hurting because that silver ball is like a comfort item for the kid and it’s pretty clear from the very start that he has some kind of understanding of what might happen on this planet and so does NOT want to go out there, but also... that thing is narratively introduced as the baby’s way of saying ‘dad, don’t forget me, don’t go’. it’s what made din go back for him the first time, and that’s a connotation it still has both in the audience’s mind and for the characters. and I need to go cry in a corner for a while be right back

- not for nothing but in this scene of the baby being faced with din and a jedi standing side by side as if to present a choice, din literally has the sun right behind his head like some kind of fucking halo

 gee I wonder what the baby’s choice is going to be fsadfjkhasdkjfhs. (he! loves! his dad! so much!!!!!!!)

- I wish they’d done more with the bored punch clock villain, hey-I’m-just-here-for-the-paycheck-man vibe of the guard captain guy and maybe given his nonchalance a bit of a darkly comedic tint, I think it would’ve made a better moment when he’s facing off with din towards the end if he had more... character. make him a bit more of a dark mirror of the soulless gun for hire people have seen din as in the past (and as the magistrate seems to now), do something interesting here. maybe even make it more of a mexican standoff with him holding a gun on an innocent or something so there’s something here for din to lose, it still does the western thing and lets you have that ramping tension you need for when you cut between the sword duel and this. hell, have him actually give up and walk away to show that he doesn’t fucking care about any of this, he did evil for money without any driving passion or conviction behind it, and let din decide if he’ll let him walk away scot free or not after what he’s been part of, that’s a neat subversion of the trope as well! as it stands it’s just so... empty   

- baby says ‘mada! mada!’ again when they try to approach the vendor who appears to be serving foodstuffs! so maybe a word he has for food or maybe something like ‘lady person!’? (he says it when frog lady is gone on the ice planet and also as she’s walking into the razor crest for the first time. he did seem more interested in the eggs at that point, sooo lol)

din reacts to him speaking too, he glances down at him <3<3<3

- the baby seems to sense ‘ooof this is scary, time to hide’ on his own before they go into the magistrate’s place, din doesn’t appear to signal anything to him  

- there’s a lot of deliberate silence in this episode, but the sound design that gets space away from the music somehow isn’t as immersive to me as it usually is on this show? I have no idea why, though 

- ‘a jedi plagues me’ is somehow so fucking funny to me. the tl;dr for a lot of star wars villains through the ages

it also still cracks me up that din is immediately like ‘ma’am you can’t afford me’ fsdhfaskf

- I’m so happy din talks to and reassures the baby when he puts him down in these situations now, I remember being SO SAD when he didn’t back in chapter 7. he’s learning all the time!

- I think we should all be very happy this fight is cut off almost as soon as it begins, because I’m pretty sure ahsoka could kick din’s ass real bad and that would be terrible because I love him (listen din definitely has his moments, but up against a force user for the first time and said force user being one of the most powerful and battle-experienced jedi alive? probably not huh, if he survives that it’s on pure fatherly love and desperation and nothing else)

- this seems to be the baby asking ahsoka to carry him back to be with din (mando certainly seems to be what they’re ‘talking’ about right before) and it’s the cutest thing I’ve ever seen 

din’s fingers are also doing the nervous curl-uncurl thing as she puts the baby down, and it remains the sweetest goddamn character tic, he’s adorable

in the long pause after he tells her “he needs your help” he’s sitting SO TENSELY, it’s only when she at least promises to test the kid that he relaxes a bit

baby (well, grogu, but he’s also baby) recognizes yoda’s name and seems to almost ask ahsoka ‘yoda is here???’, and her blink in response is like ‘no, I’m sorry’ 

- I still deeply dislike how it’s actually done in the episode, it’s so clunky and it annoys me on a craft level, but I do like the overarching thematic narrative of both mando and the baby being on this journey towards specificity and remembering themselves, of reclaiming the particular nuances of an identity that make up a self after a series of traumas have stripped it away from them. at the start of the show neither of them has a name (and din doesn’t even have a face) and they’re basically presented as broad archetypes, The Mandalorian and The Child. and now we’re slowly unearthing things that make them this specific child, grogu, this specific mandalorian, din djarin. it’s rediscovering parts of yourself you might have thought lost as you heal from trauma and I do like that very much, it’s touching and the emotional throughline this show should never lose sight of   

- oooooh no baby glances over at din when she asks him to push the stone back ;______________; it’s so awful because you can just tell... he understands that if he does this thing din might leave, but also people have clearly tricked him into using the Force before and given him this traumatized kneejerk association that if he uses it where people can see him Bad things might happen

oh okay so I think din just subtly misunderstands the baby’s appeal to him here, he thinks that look towards him means ‘dad help I don’t understand what’s being asked of me’. I guess he doesn’t have any way of knowing how complicated the baby’s past is with this yet, it’s a good try

- I’ve seen people take ‘he understands’ as baby understanding everything that’s said to him all the time, which is patently not true haha. he understands quite a lot, in the way toddlers actually understand quite a lot of what’s going on around them, even a bit of words spoken to them before they’re especially verbal themselves, but he clearly mixes up his colours still sooo

I also suspect he’s played this game before -- surely that must be one of the most obvious activities the jedi would do with the smallest children, playing Force catch basically? but he still doesn’t trust it, or her. (on the other hand he does trust that din would never hurt or trick him. help me I’m drowning in my own tears)   

- personally and from anything else in this show I don’t think din would be this impatient with the baby after hearing, less than half a minute before, that he’s terrified

but hey I’m not the man in the cowboy hat what do I know (yes I’m bitter characterization matters okay lol)

- it’s both funny and so sweet that the same music plays during this father and son playing catch scene as when baby lifted that mudhorn fkdfha

- for my money din reacts exactly perfectly to grogu finally Force pulling the ball -- he’s excited and happy, signalling that this thing doesn’t have to be scary and dangerous and that when shared with the right people it can be a good joyous thing, he moves over to the baby so they can share in this victory and attune, and crucially he doesn’t demand more afterwards, which the baby must have gotten before from some of the assholes who’ve been experimenting on him. it’s just the celebration and satisfaction of having done the thing without demands or threats or any ulterior motives. HIM!!! DAD!!!! 

tattoo this straight onto my heart... the way baby cheerfully offers it back to din... sdkjafhksdfhsakdjf 

- din breaths out roughly and unevenly through his nose almost like it’s been punched out of him and starts fiddling with the silver ball (which is still his primary tell for anxiety/stress!) when ahsoka says “he’s formed a strong attachment to you” :) listen if I have to know that all of you fuckers are going down with me 

- see the thing is... if you don’t know who ahsoka is in pretty deep detail, you might take her at face value here instead of understanding that she’s actually projecting her own feelings and traumas onto this. if you absolutely have to use this character for this part of the show you have to set her up better specifically so someone who’s never seen a single episode of clone wars can grasp the basics of where she is emotionally and what her motives are, so that her role in this story makes sense. as it is it’s sort of a compromise between pleasing old fans (who can do quite a bit of inferring to figure it out) and approaching audiences who don’t know anything, and it falls flat    

(for the purposes of this show I aggressively do not care where thrawn is, and so I’m just annoyed when we find out what this was actually all for haha)

- still feel reluctant to discuss too much about ahsoka because of the whole... situation with dawson, but I do like that she lets one of the guards leave after disarming him because he’s cowering and giving up, and that she still has her padawan braid wound into her belt. also I think the effects on her and her outfit are completely fine, my problems with her this episode are all writing craft and real life stuff 

- when you get first the jet pack sound, then din coming down kicking that dude in the face, then the mando flute kicking in as he lands properly... the only time the action in this episode made me go ‘fuck YEEEAAAAH’ it’s awesome

- again, just like with the idea of having a samurai/ronin movie standoff and a western standoff at the same time: having the scene be mostly silent except for the almost musical sounds of the light sabers hitting the beskar spear is such a cool concept, and it does not work in action. I don’t know enough about filmmaking to tell you why it doesn’t, but it doesn’t.

there’s also something about... the ahsoka vs. morgan scene apes the deliberately staged, ritualized, exaggerated almost like how you’d perform it in live theatre aspect of the duels in the genre, but in an empty way? why are they acting like this, what’s their relationship to each other, what’s their individual code of honour that makes them let the other person slowly theatrically disrobe before going for them? just plucking the aesthetics out of a tradition and plopping them down in your own thing without thinking about the whys or original context of it leaves it without meaning 

(also let morgan express something of her own character other than I Am Evil rather than having ahsoka drop the entire exposition on her. maybe you could have her snarl some illuminating lines while they’re fighting so you get the feeling of the bitterness and brokenness that has fuelled her and burned the woods of this whole planet. in some ways she’s not that unlike din and ahsoka, she lost everything in the clone wars too and was motivated very differently by it than they were, play that up so the situation’s relevant to our protagonists! I’m sorry for all this nitpicking but I HAVE to figure out how this could have been done better for my own sake haha)     

- ooooooh the way din says “I can’t accept” when offered the spear is in fact almost an exact echo of when the armourer offers him the signet in chapter 3! I thought it sounded familiar, it’s delivered in such a similar way. huh. din has some Feelings about earning things and when he hasn’t earned something, doesn’t he

- din also cares A LOT about not breaking his word, to the point of being willing to stoop to some quite dishonest methods to avoid giving his word in the first place, and I find it utterly delightful 

- baby closing his eyes again after din wakes him like he’s thinking ‘maybe if I don’t wake up dad won’t go’ or even ‘at least this way I won’t know it happened until later, when it’s over’... pure emotional torture :) thank god din’s entire soul is clearly howling in protest and he took the slightest chance ahsoka gave him to not actually go through with it 

- so this is the second time we get someone telling din he’s like grogu’s father. well, the armourer gives it more like a command/almost a religious obligation, ‘until it is of age or reunited with its kind you are as its father’, ahsoka is stating what’s obvious at this point but says ‘you are like a father to him’... maybe they’re doing a rule of threes thing and the last time it’s ‘you are his father’ and it sticks?

- anyway din cradling the baby so close to his chest with both arms all the time instead of the more practical way he carries him around in the crook of his arm sometimes... my suffering is deep and endless   

#star wars #the mandalorian #the mandalorian spoilers #the mandalorian meta

[peachykindalovesyou]

Cam-girlfriend

Leviathan x F! Camgirl! reader

Warnings:: Online masturbation, smut, dirty talk, dom Levi?, ooc Levi

Word count:: 1.6+k

Authors note:: I got this idea randomly while staring at my ceiling one night, so here it is, in all its glory.

     (Your point of view)

     I was getting ready for my usual night, I got all of my toys ready, my makeup was done, my hair was done, and I had my cosplay lingerie on. I turned on my computer, signing in and clicking on the site that I practically work on. I earned my money from there, but its a really good way to make money. I earned five thousand grimm each month for the amount of views I get!!

     Luckily, I am fairly popular on that site. I posted an update, saying that I would be going live in thirty minutes. I grabbed my bottle of strawberry flavored lube, it had a pink-red color to it, placing it on the bed along with the toys.

     Twenty minutes had already past, and most of my followers were already online. I got up from my bed, peaking down the hall in both directions and listening closely, making sure that everyone else was asleep already. I was almost certain that all of them were asleep, which they probably were.

     I’m just glad they never caught me, or even knew I stayed up until these hours. I closed my door quietly and walked back to my bed, starting up the live stream. My followers started pouring in as soon as I started it, I giggled to myself.

     “Hey babes~” I waved to the camera, leaning in to read the comments that were being written and posted. I sat there answering questions and waiting for some more users to join.

     After they had all joined, I finally started the real show. I placed my computer on my bed in front of me, I spread my legs and started taking their requests. I rubbed myself through my lacy panties, biting my lip and suppressing a moan. I read one of their requests;

‘l3wdh3ntai5; Do a strip tease, please.’ They tipped 200 grimm with the request.

     ‘I have a feeling this might be Levi..’ I thought to myself, turning the computer away from me, and getting up from the bed. I started to sway my hips side to side running my hands up and down my body. I pulled my bra strap down my shoulder, and slipped my finger tips into the hem of my panties.

(Levi’s point of view)

     My eyes were wide, I couldn’t believe the request I had just sent (Y/n)! My hard cock was out, I was rubbing myself up and down slowly, imagining that it was (Y/n)’s hand. She continued on, her bra was off but her forearm was still covering her boobs. “A-ahng..” I whimpered out, god, I just wanna take her right now.

     ‘I-I can’t believe I’m doing this..I can’t believe she was even in my recommended videos!! I’m sure glad she was though..’ I stroked myself faster, stopping each time I was about to cum.

     I felt jealous, that all of these people got to see her do all of these things. I started getting angrier and angrier, the more I watched the comments pop up in the chat. I wanted a few minutes, trying to make up my mind to just barge into her room and fuck her right then and there.

     I then get up from mt gaming chair, exiting the stream, after all, I am going to see the real thing. I walk up to the door, grabbing the handle, and opened my door slowly, not wanting to wake up the others. Especially Mammon, he’s such a scumbag..

     I tiptoed my way across the hall, making my way to (Y/n)’s room, I listened closely, to make sure that she was still streaming. ‘Good, she still is. Now its my turn to give them a REAL show.’ I smirked lightly thinking about all of the things I could do to her.. WAIT NO!! She’s just a normie..remember that Levi!

     I open the door without her noticing, she was back on her bed. I blushed immensely at the sight in front of me. She had a purple vibrator that she was pushing in and out of her, her legs were spread, she was sitting up. One of her hands were kneading her breast and twisting her nipple.

     I could hear her small whimpers and moan clearly now, I stopped in my tracks just admiring her. I then remember what I came in here for, I take a deep breath, and walk forward. “ (Y/n) “ I said sternly, this definently got her attention.

      (Your point of view)

     I Jump, and let out a little yelp, I look beside me, I couldn’t believe what I saw..’Shit! It’s Levi, oh no!’ I tried to make up and excuse as for why I was doing this, but failing miserably. “L-L-Levi!! I-I Um..I w-was just uh..d-doing an online r-review!! Yeah! haha...” I was nervous, that he was going to tell somebody.

     He raised an eyebrow, then speaking. “Oh really, an online review? That involves you getting naked and giving them a show?” He said this in a teasing way, he chuckled, darkly. He moved the computer to the side, and he crawled on top of me. He took the vibrator out of me and turned it off, then he gave it a long, slow lick. My face was beet red, this side of Levi was unnatural! I always thought that I would be the one topping him, honestly.

     “You taste delicious, but I think you would taste even better if I had the real thing..” My eyes widened further, I was nervous, submissive. I looked to my side, and I read the comments for a few seconds;

‘Anonymous: damn!! this is even better then just a regular camgirl show!!’

‘TigAnimeBiddies: I want this to continue on forever.’

‘Prxncess5676: I wish I was (Y/n)..’

     I was surprised that they liked this, I looked back to Levi. “L-Levi, this is so not like you, whats gotten into you!?” He just dived down to my face, kissing me roughly and passionately, he was a pretty good kisser..

     He shoved his tongue in my mouth, not even asking for an entrance, and as expected, he won the fight for dominance. “I’m gonna show you who you really belong to, slut. I’m gonna leave my marks all over you, than that way, everyone else will leave you alone.” He smirked evilly once again.

     He kissed down my jawline, to my neck. he softly kissed it at first, it felt so loving and gentle. But all of a sudden, he bit down, harshly. “AH!~” It felt so good, he kissed me roughly on my neck and shoulders, he left dark purple and red hickeys all over the places that would be the most difficult to hide. ‘Oh how am I gonna explain this to the rest of the brothers..’ I thought to myself.

     His hand slid down my body, caressing my breasts, squeezing, groping, and licking, and sucking, biting my hard buds. It all felt so good, I couldn’t hand the pleasure he was giving me. His other hand started leading its way down to my core, resting just right above it. I bucked my hips upwards, just wanting him to give me more. “Hgnh..Levi p-please..” He looked up at me, with his lust filled eyes.

    “Please, what?” He teased me further, I could tell her was definently enjoying this change of pace. “P-please just..just..JUST FUCK ME LEVI PLEASE!!” I moaned out, my mouth was hung open. He turned into his demon form, I couldn’t wait for him to fill me up.

     He suddenly looked bashful and looked away “A-are you sure you wanna do this w-with..me?” He looked up at me with pleading eyes. “Of course, Levi! I wouldn’t want this from anyone else but you.” I assured him, with a sweet smile.

     “Alright than I have your consent..I’m not holding back.” He whispered the last part in my ear. He roughly pulled off my panties, he undressed himself. I was admiring his well built form, for a shut in otaku, he sure does have a great body. We were soon both undressed, I look down at his member, it was pretty big, a nice girth. “Like what you see?” I slowly nodded my head, looking away with a red face.

     “Ready?” He asked me, I nodded. “Good.” He harshly thrusted in, slow and rough thrusts were being produced from him. The pain soon went away, “F-faster Levi..” he went even faster, before pulling out.

     “Get on your hand and knees, now.” I obeyed him, getting into my position. He thrusted in yet again, ecstasy ran through my body. “Tell me who you belong to.”

“L-Levi..”

“Who? I didn’t quite catch that..” He thrusted faster, rougher. gripping my ass.

“L-Levi!”

“I still can’t here you, slut. Now, WHO DO YOU BELONG YOU?” He thrusted faster than humanly possible, his tail was now penetrating my ass.

“Y-Y-YOU LEVI!! I B-BELONG TO Y-YOU!!!” 

“Good girl, now, take all of my fucking seed.” He thrusted harder, and a few thrusts, I felt a warm and sticky liquid spill into me, running down my thighs. He pulled out his tail and cock.

     He looked over to the computer, before exiting out of the stream and closing my computer, setting it down on my night stand. He looked down at me with wide eyes “(Y-Y/n)!! Are you okay, was I too rough!?” I turned over, laying myself down on the pillows, I panted heavily.

“Y-yeah, I’m fine.” I closed my eyes, smiling to myself.

“Levi, that was the BEST sex I’ve ever had in my life.”

“R-really!?” I could see his eyes fill up with happiness “Yeah..” I gave him a sweet closed eyed smile. He got up and came behind me, covering us both with the blanket.

“I love you, Levi.”

“I love you too, (Y/n).”

We both went to bed, but little did we both know, there was gonna be a TON of questions coming from the brother..oops.

#obey me smut #obey me #obey me levi x mc #obey me leviathan #obey me! leviathan #shall we date #obey me swd #obey me shall we date #leviathan obey me #levi x y/n #levi x mc #obey me reader insert #tw smut #🍋 : smut

[bluberrystarboy]

Our Love Will Never Die

Pirate! AU

Summary: In which, Princes Jeno and Jaemin are captured by pirates, and just want to escape to live their lives together

Warnings: Heavy Angst, Major Character Death, Minor Character Death, Blood, Swords, Guns, Drowning, Sword fighting, Violence, Very brief mentions of wanting to die

Characters: Prince! Jeno, Prince! Jaemin, Pirate Captain! Taeyong, Pirate Captain! Mark, Pirate Captain! Haechan

Words: 4,668

Playlist Link: https://youtu.be/eOfw5D7yVRU

A/N: Ive been really into the idea of pirates and princes lately, so i wrote some angst! Hope you enjoy ^-^ Please tell me how you like it!

Jeno could only look down, trying to stop the salty ocean water mopped in his hair from falling into his eyes. He rubbed his wrist lightly, the metal shackles chafing and cutting into his skin. He could hear the heavy footsteps trudge down the stairs, but couldn’t bring himself to look up.

Jeno could hear the grin in his voice as the man spoke to him, the evil flowing past his lips, “Up, Your Highness.”

He clenched his fists at the emphasis put on his title as he stood, keeping his head down. He heard the clinking of the metal as the cell door opened, and he was tugged by his wrists, gun pressed to his back as he walked up the stairs and onto the deck. He ignored the stares and cackling sent his way as he walked. He finally looked up as he walked, seeing the grins and whistles and hearing faint, ‘Hello Your Highness’s’ sent his way. Jeno continued to ignore them. 

He also ignored the beating of his heart as he was pushed up another set of stairs, to the captain's deck. He watched as the crowd around the captain’s table dispersed, making way for the captain himself to walk forward. He couldn’t understand what he was saying, the pounding in his heart was blocking out his perception of sound. Jeno couldn’t look him in the eyes either, moving to look back down at his feet in misery. 

He heard a scowl and a deep, “Look at me when I’m talking to you, boy.” 

Jeno looked up at him with dim eyes, hair blowing in the ocean wind. He couldn’t bring himself to be angry with the captain, or even try to fight him. 

“Do you know who I am, boy?”

Jeno could only shake his head, shuffling the shackles around his hands a little more. 

The captain broke out into a mean grin, tilting his head to the side slightly to meet his eyes, “Well then, why don’t we introduce ourselves?”

Jeno watched as the captain moved away from him, his long coat trailing behind him as he moved to stand on the table, looking over the deck railing to the rest of his crew. He heard his voice ring out through the dark chilled air, a wicked smile on his face, “Who are we, men?”

The voices rang out clear in return, shouting back at him,”The Silver Hydra!”

He watched the captain turn to face him, bowing slightly in mockery as he spoke,” And I, Your Highness, am the captain Taeyong Lee, one-third of the Lee brothers.”

Jeno could feel his heart stuck in his throat. He tried to keep a solemn expression, he really did. But with Captain Taeyong’s smirk, he knew his expression had given him away. 

“So, you do know who I am, then?” He asked in a sickly sweet voice. 

Jeno didn’t answer him, fear and panic growing in his body. He had heard stories about the Lee brothers. 

---------------

The three brothers Lee, captains of the blue sea. Many know who they are, few meet them and live to tell the tale. They were all three happy loving brothers, once. Soon to be rulers of the prestigious kingdom of Apra, a small kingdom but a cheerful one nonetheless. 

One night, in the midst of a harsh winter, the three Lee brothers were awoken to the screams and cries of their people, right outside the castle. The oldest brother, Lee Taeyong, ran to fetch his younger brothers and hide them from the harsh reality of the outer walls of the castle. They ran and hid in a small storage closet, just as they heard the palace doors break down. The youngest brother, Lee Donghyuck, shook with fear as he waited for the hundreds of foot steps to pass. The middle brother, ever the adventurer, had decided he wanted to fight them off, defend his kingdom from attack. Mark had ended up getting all three of them caught and captured, being placed on their knees in front of their parents in the throne room of their palace. The king and queen, sitting in shame. 

The pirates had told their parents, “You still owe us, for the favor that has gotten you here today.” 

The King and Queen had pleaded with them to stop, to give them a chance to fully repay them. The Queen had cried, “Please stop this! What do you want from us?”

The Pirates could only laugh. You see, the king and queen already known what they had wanted, the minute they had started their pillaging through their kingdom. 

The Pirates told them, “You know what we want, Your Highnesses. Our payment, in full. Now.”

The King could only bow his head in shame as he turned to look at their three children, eyes full of guilt and sorrow. “We don’t have it.”

The Captain of the Pirate crew could only laugh again, turning towards the three princes, “You don’t? Then I guess the kingdom is ours boys! Take what you want!”

The Queen looked up at them as they started moving, shouting, “Wait!” and as everyone turned to watch, she looked at her husband before speaking again.

“Take them.”

The Pirates could only stand, waiting for confirmation from the King. 

The King looked one last time at his three children, before nodding in agreement, “Yes. Take them.”

The three princes could only watch in shock as the Captain moved towards them, a grin as wide as the sea on her face, “You hear that boys? Looks like Mommy and Daddy care more about their throne than you. Even though it is rightfully mine.” She spat, turning back to the King and Queen with a grin. “But this ought to be enough payment, don’t you think?”

The Captain turned to her crew, smiling wider if possible, before speaking in a soft manner, “Tie them up.”

And as the princes were stripped from their home and made prisoner of the Bandits of the Eternal Raid, they left behind the innocent and loving parts of themselves. The parts of themselves that made them weak, as they liked to say now. 

It is unclear how they themselves became leaders of their own pirate crews and gained their own ships. Some say they killed the captain of the Eternal Raid and took over her ship, others say they escaped and stole the ships themselves.

One thing is clear; they will never be the princes they once were. And you were lucky to even be alive more than a day once captured on their ship. So while not many have lived to tell the tale of the Lee brothers, everyone knows who they are.

---------------

Jeno knew who they were, what they were capable of. He knew he was in trouble, just by being here. And that caused him to start panicking. He knew Captain Taeyong could see it on his face, too. He decided he should at least make a run for it, maybe he could grab someone's gun to defend himself.

That thought quickly diminished however, when he saw him. His lover, the man he was set to marry. The one person he had loved and cared for more than anything in this world. 

Jeno hadn’t seen him in days. He had been trapped in the cell below the ship for four days, little food and water being given to him. Jaemin looked worse. He looked as if he had no food at all for days on end, only having enough to barely keep him alive. He was tied to the post of the back sail of the ship, back pressed against it as he teetered close to the railing. He sucked in a breath as their eyes met, and Jeno watched the tears well up in his eyes as he saw him.

Jeno was brought back to reality by a harsh slap across his cheek. He winced slightly and could hear Jaemin’s soft whimper across the deck, turning to look back at the Captain again as he spoke, “You answer someone when they ask you a question, boy. Or are you distracted with our new pet?” 

He could feel his anger rising as the words rang through his ears, having to will his mouth to speak before being cut off, “I see. He means something to you.” Jeno watched as Captain Taeyong moved to stand on the table once more, turning towards the post and leaning down to grip onto Jaemin’s chin, forcing him to turn and look at Jeno before he turned his head himself. 

He shouted out to his crew, keeping eye contact with Jeno as he did so, “Look at what we have here, mates! A pair of starcrossed lovers! Your love, written across the stars, hm?”

Jeno’s hand was itching to grab a sword or a gun, just something to try and get them free, to get them to safety. 

He watches Taeyong squeeze Jaemin’s jaw just a bit harder and he can hear the crew around him laughing and he can’t help the rage flowing throughout his body as he yells at him, “Get your filthy hands off of him!” 

He can feel the silence settle across the crowd as the Captain stands, jumping off the table and making his way over to him with a dark glare, sure to make anyone's insides twist up in knots. He stands directly in front of him, his face too close for Jeno’s liking. 

With a darkly quiet voice, he speaks directly to Jeno, “What did you say to me, boy?”

Jeno can only swallow his nerves, using the close proximity to his advantage as he reaches for the Captain’s sword while replying, “I said, get your hands off of him.” 

As he unsheathes the sword, he stands there with it drawn, ready to use the surprise to his advantage and push it through the Captain's chest. But Taeyong is faster, grabbing one of his men from the side and pulling him in front of him as Jeno pushes the sword through his chest. 

Captain Taeyong can only smirk at him, before drawing the sword from the dead crew member and pointing it forward as he drops the man to the side. He moves forward to try and slice Jeno’s side, but he reacts just quick enough to counter him. 

Jeno jumps back slightly as more of the crew along with their captain start coming at him, attempting to slice and stab at him. He silently praises his parents for forcing him to take those fencing and sword fighting lessons. 

He can feel more and more people start to surround him and he desperately tries to fight for his and his lover's freedom, stabbing and slicing through crew members of the ship. He can see the younger members of the pirate crew cower away, moving to hide behind barrels and things they could find, as not to be forced to join the fight. Jeno’s heart yearns to take them to safety, get them out of the dangerous ocean waters and back to his palace with Jaemin by his side. 

He hears a scream from in front of him, and that causes him to snap back to reality, just in time to feel the cool metal of a dirty blade slicing through his side. He knew that scream, that voice. He felt it in his chest, fear and panic settling in as he frantically fought against the crowd coming towards him, trying to get to the table from before, the post with which his lover was tied. 

He finally broke through the crowd and for a split second his defense broke, his hand dropping to his side. He watched in horror, all fighting energy leaving his body for mere seconds as Taeyong held his sword in front of Jaemin, both of them standing on the railing of the ship. Taeyong held onto Jaemin by his shirt only, his whole body leaning over the edge with his hands and feet still bound. 

Jeno looked up into Jaemin’s eyes, his own full of fear as Jaemin looked back in desperation. He felt his heart beating faster than before as he came back to the reality of the situation, raising his sword to defend his lover once more. He saw the glint of mischief in the captain's eye, and it only fueled his anger and fear. 

He swung his sword with fervor, ignoring his shackled hands and trying his hardest to get past all of the pirates to reach his lover. He heard Captain Taeyong’s voice from in front of him, moving his sword around as he spoke.

“You know, boy, I was planning on sparing you both, maybe having you work with my crew or my brothers. I think I might have to change plans now though, to teach you a lesson about respect.”

Jeno’s heartbeat sped up as he tried his hardest to break past the crowd once more, his desperation showing as he fought and fought. 

He cried out a sharp, “No!” as he swung his sword more, stabbing through people and pushing to try and get them out of his way. 

When he finally pushed past the crowd of men and made his way to the table, it was too late. He was too late. He watched as Taeyong sliced the side of Jaemin’s arm, and as Jeno jumped over the table to reach him, Taeyong let him go. 

Jeno screamed, “Jaemin!” as he reached the railing and watched him fall, his hand reaching out for him. He heard and felt the desperation in his voice as Jaemin screamed, reaching out for Jeno with bound hands. 

He watched Jaemin hit the water with a splash, before gripping onto the railing, tears welling in his eyes. He felt his heart pounding, knowing that Jaemin was under the water, struggling to get free and swim to the surface. He knew he was struggling to breathe, to stay alive. And it killed him. He kept thinking of ways to get down in the water, to look for him, to save him. But it was no use. 

Jeno turned toward the Captain in an angry, pained daze, raising his sword as tears fell from his eyes. He walked towards him, his face hardening as he swung at him, trying to slice and stab him as hard as he could. He screamed with each swing he made, each step he took, “Save him! Save him! Save him now!”

Captain Taeyong kept his devilish smirk on his face as he dodged all the attacks made towards him. Jeno only tried harder, tears starting to cloud his vision as they fell. 

Because of his blurred vision, he ended up stabbing a post, but Jeno couldn’t bring himself to care. He fell to his knees in front of Taeyong, tears streaming down his face as he screamed. He screamed for as long as his lungs would allow him to. He didn’t care about the hundreds of crew members watching him or the seemingly never fading smirk on the Captain's face. None of it mattered to him. 

It was his fault. He started fighting. Maybe they would’ve survived if he hadn’t said anything. Maybe it could’ve been the other way around. 

He could feel the pain in his heart, knowing Jaemin had struggled and died a slow and painful death. All he could feel was pain and grief. He kept his head down as he whispered a small sentence, “Why did you do it?”

Jeno heard the Captain shuffle forward and grab his chin, forcing him to look up at him as he spoke quietly and harshly, “I already told you, Your Highness,” he spoke his title with annoyance, “to teach you about respect. You, of all people, should know about that.”

He walked away to collect his sword out of the post Jeno had stabbed it through, looking at the blade and wiping away a little blood as he kept talking, louder this time, “I’ll offer you this chance one more time. Join my crew or one of my brothers. Seeing your skill now, you could make a great addition.”

Jeno couldn’t wrap his head around what he was saying. Was he seriously asking him to join him, after he just drowned the love of his life? After he took them captive from their kingdom, their lives? He didn’t understand.

He only now remembered the wound in his side, moving to put his hand over the open slice and looking at it, watching the blood flow. He could feel a few presences behind him, forcing him to stand. He looked up at the Captain, a dark, sorrowful look in his eyes as he spoke, “Bring him back.”

Taeyong could only hum in response, egging Jeno on further.

With a scream this time, “Bring him back!”

Taeyong gave him a pointed look, before growling and sheathing his sword. 

“You wanna see him again? Fine.” Taeyong turned towards his men, “Boys! Send out a rescue boat!”

He turned to face Jeno again, before yelling, “Bring back the body.”

Jeno didn’t like the way that sentence made him feel. Those words stung. Jeno could feel it in his heart. Body. Jaemin’s body. He had been reduced to just a body rather than a person, a person with a soul, a mind, a spirit, a heart. 

Jaemin had meant the world to Jeno. They were planning to marry, to unite their kingdoms as one and rule over their people with a kind heart. Everything had been in place too. They had the wedding planned, rings made for them, crowns ready for the coronation ceremony afterwards. 

It was all gone. All a fever dream, an idea, a memory. The love of his life, dead before his eyes. 

He hadn’t even registered that he’d been tied to the same post as his lover, kept under the watchful eye of the Captain, as one of the younger sailors tended to his wound. He could only keep his head down, more tears falling as he stood there. He would occasionally look over his shoulder, out to sea to watch the rescue boat. 

Jeno isn’t sure how long he stood there and watched them search, but he couldn’t hold back his heavy sobs when he heard a whistle, watching as they pulled something from the ocean depths and rowed back to the ship. 

Jeno knew it was Jaemin’s body. He knew what he was going to see. It’s not something he was prepared for. 

He watched as the boat was pulled back up, the sailors and the body being pulled out. Taeyong stood at the ledge overlooking the ship, watching as the men carried his lover's body up the deck and laid him on the floor. 

Taeyong looked down at Jaemin with a tsk, nudging lightly at his foot before walking over to Jeno. He unsheathed his sword, cutting off the rope that held Jeno against the post as he spoke,”You got what you wanted, kid. Now go look at what you asked for.”

Jeno fell to the ground with a soft thud, before scrambling over to Jaemin’s dead, wet body. He sobbed quietly as he pulled Jaemin’s body in his lap, rocking back and forth in hysteria.

He looked down at him, softly brushing his wet hair away from his face as his tears dripped onto him. He cupped his cheeks gently, caressing them softly as he whispered sweet and broken promises to him, recounting moments shared between them and the lost moments they could’ve had. 

Jeno stays like that, crying with Jaemin’s body in his hands until his own body falls still, sleep and exhaustion overtaking him.

---------------

He wakes up the next day, back in the cell he was once in, his shackles removed and replaced with rope. He couldn’t bring himself to care about that fact however, as he looked in the cell across from his own.

Staring back at him, was the dead body of his lover. He didn’t feel the tears well up in his eyes again, instead feelings of guilt and pain washing over him. He could only stare at him, not looking away, even as he hears the door open and footsteps walk down the stairs.

It feels like deja vu to him, those footsteps resounding in his ear. Oh, how he wishes he could do it all over again. 

He finds the Captain and two sailors standing in front of him, sharing that same wicked smile from before. He watches as they open the cell door, prepared for a fight but Jeno doesn’t give one, opting to just walk out and follow Taeyong instead. He can hear the door to the other cell opening, but he keeps walking, not wanting to look back at Jaemin any longer. 

When he arrived on deck, he looked out into the sea, finding two other pirate ships following closely behind The Silver Hydra's ship. At first, Jeno thought they were under attack, but looking around at the calmness of the other sailors, he relaxed. 

Taeyong brought him back up to the Captain’s Deck, taking his place at the wheel as Jeno stood behind him. He could feel two other presences at the table behind him, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care about figuring out who it was. It wasn’t until one of them spoke, their voice deep and soft, that he turned around.

“Who is this beauty, Yongie? You snagged a real find, didn’t you?”

Taeyong turned back to face him, resting against the wheel, “Even better, he can fight. I wanted to see if either of you wanted him on your crew. He clearly doesn’t wanna work under my command. Not after yesterday.”

He heard the second man hum in response, standing to come circle around Jeno, taking him in. 

The Lee Brothers. Jeno figured that must be who they are, who he could be forced to work under. He just looked down under their gazes, not daring to look at the body of his lover leaning against the railing a couple feet away. 

The smaller of the two, who he assumed must be Donghyuck, grabbed his chin and forced him to look up, smiling widely at him, with a strange mischief and curiosity in his eyes. 

“So you say he’s a good fighter? Let’s see it then.” He spoke, turning back to Taeyong. 

Jeno watched as a crew member unsheathed their sword under Taeyong directions, untying his rope bound hands and handing it to him. His limbs felt heavy at the weight of the sword, not having it in him to pick it up and care about fighting for his life. 

But then he looked at Jaemin’s body. His beautiful Jaemin, the love of his life, the only person he cared about. And his body was once again filled with rage.

He tensed up, and ignored Captain Donghyuck as he unsheathed his sword, lifting his head and turning to run towards Captain Taeyong instead, finally catching him off guard. 

He landed a slice on his arm before Taeyong had unsheathed his sword, giving his brothers a pointed look and telling them to back off. He stood in a fighting stance as Jeno charged at him again, anger filling every fiber of his body as he fought, not caring about the amount of damage that was inflicted upon his body. 

He fought back tears as he kept stabbing at Taeyong, finally listening to the words spewing out of his mouth as his anger died down a little.

“You’re mad at me for teaching you a lesson, boy? For killing your lover? You were probably planning on marrying him, weren’t you?”

Jeno only seethed more, fighting harder and ignoring the pain from his previous wounds.

“Newsflash, Little Prince! Not everything works out as planned! Not all love stories have happy endings! And you know what? You and him could’ve been okay if you would’ve stayed put. You killed that boy, not me!”

Jeno yelled at that, using his body strength to pin Taeyong to the short railing of the deck before speaking softly, “At least when I kill you, I’ll have no regrets.”

And Jeno pushed. Taeyong fell over the railing and Jeno watched as tears finally welled up in his eyes, letting the Captain's words settle in his head. 

He thought it was over. He really did. But he watched as another Lee, presumably Captain Mark, grabbed onto his brother's hand, hoisting him up and over the railing once more. He then felt hands grab him from behind, and a dark voice spoke in his ear. 

“It’s not that easy to kill a Lee, Your Highness.”

He listened as all three of the Lee’s cackled, tears rolling down his face. He turned to look at Jaemin once again, trying to break free of the grip on his body to go to him. 

Taeyong hummed lightly beside him, walking over to inspect Jaemin’s body. He kicked at it lightly, before turning around to scowl and glare darkly at Jeno. 

“You wanna be with him that badly, don’t you? Fine then.”

He watched as Taeyong motioned for two of his sailors to grab Jaemin’s body and force him into Jeno’s arm. Jeno’s tears cascaded down his cheeks as he felt Jaemin’s head slump against his shoulder, his once warm arms making no motion to hug him again. He felt a rope wrap around him and Jaemin’s body, forcing them together as he was pushed forward and down the stairs by the two sailors, the Lee’s watching from their deck.

Jeno felt the sailors force him onto the plank of wood jutting out from the ship, their swords pointed at him, not allowing him to turn around and walk back.

He gripped onto Jaemin’s body with his life, his heart pained and racing. He didn’t have a choice. He could still see the desperation on Jaemin’s face as he was let go, falling off the side of the ship. He could see the look of fear as he reached out for Jeno, a sharp cry escaping his lips.

He turned to face Taeyong as he spoke, tears still streaming down his face. He made no motion to stop them from falling either. 

“Listen here, sailors! Look at how our star-crossed lovers ended up! I know some of you here are hopeful to find yourselves a pretty little thing to call yours, but heed this warning. You are pirates! And pirates don't need love. We just need each other. So I won’t stop you if you look for love! But just remember, you will turn out just like these two. Their love was written in the stars, right?”

Taeyong turned to look at Jeno as he spoke, a dark, evil, and somewhat hurt expression on his face as he spoke. 

“Now look at them. Their so-called ‘love’, drowned at sea.”

Jeno sniffled and cried more as Taeyong spoke to him, looked at him. A part of him wasn’t ready to die. A part of him wanted to live, to avenge Jaemin’s death, to go back to their kingdoms to honor him and live on.

But another part of him wanted this. Another part of him felt he deserved it. He had been the one to kill Jaemin. So maybe, he could see him again. They could celebrate their love, both drowned at sea and in the stars. 

He heard a few more words spoken and then, Jeno was falling. He looked down at Jaemin’s face one last time, taking in his features and kissing his forehead as he fell, the pain in his heart swelling before he hit the water. He struggled for a while, trying to breathe and break away towards the surface before he gave up, clinging to Jaemin as they both faded into the depths of the ocean. 

Now truly, their love was drowned at sea.

#angst #lee jeno #jeno #prince!jeno #na jaemin #jaemin #prince!jaemin #lee taeyong #taeyong #pirate!taeyong #mark lee #pirate!mark #lee donghyuck #haechan #pirate!haechan #death #pirates #princes #nct #nct u #NCT 127 #nct dream #nct pirate au #nct prince au #nct pirate #nct prince

[coffee-and-cake]

Toothcup Kids

(Good god I finally did it after forgetting about it twice I finally finished them)

Note: this is mostly just how they were found/adopted with some tid bits of personality

Destin - Human son - oldest (found at about 2 months old)

Destin was found as an a baby abandoned in a forest in the middle of winter. He was deemed a “hiccup” and left on a small island to die. But luckily toothless had heard his cries when flying over the island so him and hiccup were able to warm him up and get back to berk to feed him.

He is found in the middle of the “race to the edge” series (hiccup is 17 - 18)

Age 0 - 9 he is a sweet boy with a thirst for knowledge but has slight trauma of dragon hunters and dragons (remember the team has felt with many a violent dragons and he’s there for a good bit of it). When he’s 10 he starts to distance himself from Toothless specifically and gravitates to his mom (hiccup). At one point he tells hiccup that he refuses to see a dragon as his father. (More to come cause I don’t wanna spoil all of my ideas 😉)

Looks: (Note: every characters look is when they are still children not adults)

Hair: black and curly, bangs cover his eyes

Eyes: green

Body: very small and slim with pale skin but is noticeable tall for his age.

(NOTE: I actually wanna do a rewrite of the 3rd movie and these kids are from my rewrite ideas that I have yet to post much less write down)

Vali - Dragon son - 2nd child (egg found a week after 2nd movie, hatched a few months before 3rd movie)

A young female night fury is found dying in the forest of Berk with an egg in her paws. She acts violently towards the Vikings who only wanna help so they send in toothless to calm her down. She lets the Vikings help her and it’s soon realized that with her injuries might not survive the night. With knowledge in mind she warns Toothless and Hiccup about Grimmel and her trapped people. She mentions that her mate was killed and after she is gone her hatchling won’t have anymore family. Hiccup vows to protect her child as if it were his own as well as toothless and seeing their passion and willingness to help her and possibly save her people she passes away peacefully over night know her child is in safe claws. (Happens not long after the 2nd movie)

When the egg does hatch he has green eyes like toothless but has more of mother(dragon) looks. I actually don’t want to give too much away with this one because he is going to be the more mysterious kind of sibling and a lot of what I have for him cannot be just written down in just a few words but I will say that when he was in his juvenile years he was very much a coward and he hates himself for that when something really bad happens

Looks:

Eyes: dark green

Body: (I tried my best cause all the dragon children are night fury’s)

- he is pretty big for his age and is suspected to be bigger then toothless once of age. (A chubby boi)

- The spikes on his head and legs are noticeable longer as well.

- Underbelly is more of a dark gray

Mista - Dragon daughter - 3rd child (egg found and hatched at grimmels old base after the third movie)

You can find the little story that I made about how they found her egg here

She is surprisingly the most human of all her siblings and hopes to one day be chief of Berk. When she hatched she had already started to be kind of controlling especially to her younger brothers and whenever her mom and dad, hiccup and toothless, would leave for a certain amount of time she would always ask “I’m in charge right remember you said that you put me in charge”

But when it eventually becomes time for her to become a leader it has to be after the worst moment in Berks’ history and she has to make very hard and important decisions.

Looks:

Eyes: gold

Body:

- Mista almost matches Vali in size but is more slender and her muscles being more defined.

- Eye flaps are larger and more pointed

- Her scales are a very dark navy blue

Troy - Dragon son - 4th child (born the same day as his sister but on New Berk)

This boy was born on the same day as his as his older sister a few later hours except he is born on New Berk. Him and Mista are the only ones that are related by blood. he is the wild child of the five siblings and is always looking for trouble but one day he bites off more than he can chew and now has to face the consequences of his actions

*chuckles darkly*

Looks:

Eyes: Gold

Body:

- Is the smallest of the dragon siblings with not much muscle. But he is the fastest of the siblings.

- Scales are a dark forest green under belly is more and dorsal fins are more grayish give him a mossy cobblestone look (Mossy boy)

- Smaller and rounder ear flaps

- Grey freckles scattered across his snout

Axel - Human son - 5th child (found in Grimmels village at 1 year old a few weeks after the birth of the 3rd and 4th child)

Even though he is a whole year older than Mista and Troy he is still considered the youngest due to dragons maturing way faster than a normal human as well as because he was found before them as well so they deemed him the youngest

This boy grows up to be very laid-back he tends to be the more draconic of the siblings be it on the lazier side he loves spending time with his dad toothless and he loves to draw with his mom Hiccup he loves his siblings but they can be a bit overprotective and sometimes controlling but really he just wants to vibe in a field of flowers and sing songs.

But when the time comes for him to be serious he doesn’t hold back and always helps pull his family through the toughest of times

Looks

Hair:

- very light blonde

- Likes it kept long so he can braid it

Eyes: sky blue

Body:

- Axel is small like how Destin was and was also deemed a “Hiccup” but was never left to die.

- He has a small scar on his right cheek that was there before he was adopted by Hiccup.

- Ears are somewhat pointer giving him an elvish look

#how to train your dragon #httyd #hiccup #toothless #toothcup #fan child #character stuff #my ocs

[sanktnikolais]

Safe and Sound

A/N: not for an October prompt anymore, but just for more content in the role swap au. They finally stop being idiots and confessed in this one ok KHASDFLKJH it reached 5k and i don’t even know how and why

big thanks to @spookywafflesandkruge​ for going through this mess and editing—and screaming with me KLJHASFKJHA don’t sue me for emotional distress pls

Word count: 5089

AO3

The night dragged on. The countless people talked to and endless dances with ‘potential’ husbands had taken a toll on Zoya. If it weren’t for the attack that shook the nearby city from the capital two months ago, she would have stomped out of the ballroom the moment the event started. But the security was tight, and she wasn’t allowed to leave the premises until the night ended. 

          She let out an exasperated sigh as she leaned back more comfortably in her chair, eyeing the people on the dance floor. There were already a few invitations she had declined for the past half hour. Her mood wasn't in the likes of dancing yet again, especially when she was trying to find the eyes of someone in the ballroom. 

          Zoya hadn't seen Nikolai since after dinner when the dances started. Only Tamar and Tolya were stationed near the royal table. 

          "He was patrolling in the courtyard earlier," a small voice said beside her, making Zoya jolt slightly. It was Lada who just came back from the buffet table and she was carrying a bowl of sweets. "I'm sure he'll be back to his post by the main side exit later." 

          "What did I tell you about eating sweets at this time of the night again?" Zoya asked, raising an eyebrow. She had been reprimanding Lada of sweets at night because it usually gave her energy bursts throughout the night and she would end up sleeping at the barest hours of dawn. But it seemed like the little one was just as stubborn as Zoya was back when she was still a child. 

          Lada smiled at her, but it was in between mocking and teasing. "Don't change the subject, dearest big sister. I know you're looking for him, your eyes were roaming around the ballroom for the whole night," she said, wiggling a finger to Zoya's face. "Please, you both need to stop being idiots around each other. It won't get you anywhere." 

          Zoya was quite taken aback. She had forgotten how Lada's words could deal a harsh yet honest blow to the person she was talking to. She huffed, turning her attention to the other tables instead. 

          It was a good thing that the Queen wasn't anywhere near them and was talking to the other dukes. Otherwise Zoya would have two people telling her the exact same thing. 

          She shook her head. "I think he made it pretty clear that he doesn't want to do anything with us anymore," she said, ignoring the slight clench in her chest. The memory of him telling her that she should stop turning to him for everything still stung. "It shows in his actions too." 

          "And you believe him?" Lada sighed. "You should've seen the look on his face when he came back to see you after the attack." 

          Zoya turned to Lada with a surprised look on her face, only to see that the younger one was wincing as if she had been hurt. Nikolai came back that day? "What did you say?"

          Lada gave her a smile that looked too forced for her own liking, and there was no mistaking the guilty look on her face. "What do you mean? I didn't say anything."

          "Lada." 

          "Oh, look. There he is!" The younger princess pointed to something over her shoulder. 

          Zoya turned to the direction, and true enough, Nikolai was indeed in sight, talking—though more of scolding based on the sharp movements of his hand—to one of the guards stationed on the side exit. 

          "Go ask him." Then Lada bolted off her seat and disappeared in the crowd. 

          Zoya stared in disbelief to the direction Lada disappeared to. That girl really was something else. She shook her head and turned to look back to where Nikolai was.

          He was staring back at her. 

          For a moment, she couldn't breathe. It had been a long while since he’d looked at her openly, when they were still okay. He had the look that he always gave her when she was trying to argue with him about something, the softness in his eyes that only held amusement, and he would brush it off with a laugh after. 

          Zoya felt another clench in her chest. She missed those times. She missed those stolen moments. She missed him. 

          How did they ever end up this way? 

          All too soon, the look was gone and Nikolai averted his eyes, turning back to the guard to say something more before he went out to the exit without much further glance back to the ballroom. 

          The moment disappeared in a blink, as if she just imagined it. 

          It was then Zoya knew she'd had enough of the cold shoulders they gave each other for the past few months. Even if he didn't feel the same way for her, she would accept that. He was right with what he told her, anyway. 

          I let our friendship treat you like we are of equal standing, Your Highness, and this is not how the Captain of the Guard should address a royal, he had said. It's best if our relationship would only be professional and nothing more.

          It did sting at her heart and pride, and she had told him that they should avoid each other out of anger. 

          She ended up eating her words at the end of the day. They had been through so much just to treat each other as strangers. 

          With a new wave of determination, Zoya downed the glass of wine on the table before standing up to follow the Captain out of the ballroom. She was aware of Tolya's presence behind her, but she didn't bother to look. 

          The guard that Nikolai had previously spoken with stood in attention and held up a hand. "Your Highness—" 

          Zoya ignored him and brushed past the guard, letting the pent up emotions she had for so long drive her feet faster to catch up with Nikolai. This had to be fixed tonight. 

          She stepped out to the balcony, and immediately, the cold night air bit on her skin. But she continued on. There was no time to think about other things. 

          Nikolai was already nearing the staircase to the left that led down to the palace garden, so Zoya immediately called out to him. 

          "Nikolai." She had meant to sound sharp, and yet her own voice had betrayed her and it broke slightly, almost pleading.

          If it were some other time, she would've covered it up by clearing her throat or any other excuse. But tonight, she was just tired. 

          Nikolai stopped, his shoulders stiffening. He took a breath before turning to face her. “Your Highness,” he said, and Zoya tried to ignore the stinging feeling from the lack of warmth in his voice, even in his eyes. “You are supposed to be inside.” 

          “We need to talk,” she said simply.

          “Let’s have it some other time, you still have a lot of guests—”

          “No. This can’t wait any longer.”

          A long silence stretched between them, and neither of them dared to speak first. Zoya realized that this was the longest time he had held her gaze without leaving right away. She huffed, the stinging in her eyes making her want to hate herself. It wasn’t fair that she felt this way while he could act like it was nothing to him.

          Nikolai released a breath, averting his eyes. He’s trying to turn away again. “Alright, then. What do you want to talk about?

          Zoya blinked, disbelief washing over her. “Everything. Everything that has happened between us.” she said. "What happened to us?" 

          “There’s nothing to talk about. There was never an 'us'.” he said, voice almost in a whisper. He looked up at her, expression cold and distant, but his eyes said all the opposite. Shaking his head, he added, “You are the Crown Princess and I am the Captain of the Guard. Nothing more. You of all people should know.”

          That made her stop, the pain in her chest only doubling. Could Nikolai even blame her? All those times he’d spent with her, the times he stayed even after seeing her worst side, the times he just knew the right things to say when she needed it even without telling him, the times that he would not hesitate to point out her mistakes when she had been overwhelmed by her own emotions, and the times he protected her.

          All of them, and his unwavering loyalty and trust for her. That was everything that made her love him so wholly.

          Because Nikolai always saw her as who she was through her best and worst.

          Maybe she had just been a fool to feel that way for him.

          You should’ve seen the look on his face when he came back to see you after the attack.

          For a moment, she had let herself believe what Lada told her. But looking at his face now, Zoya found it harder to consider it to be true.

          An unwanted tear fell from her eye, and Zoya quickly reached up to wipe it away. There was a slight crack in his expression when Nikolai noticed it, but if he wanted to say something else, he didn’t bother to.

          “So that’s it? Our friendship, and everything we’ve been through. Gone, just like that?” she said. “Easy for you to say that I should know better than let my emotions get the best of me. How did you expect me to react when you suddenly decided to push me away? You just brushed it off and acted as if everything was nothing to you. Like I was nothing to you.”

          “You think that was easy for me?” Nikolai laughed darkly, raising up a hand in the air. His voice had risen to a tone that Zoya never heard him use before. It sounded tired and strained. Broken. He released a disbelieving breath, as if he was insulted, and his mask slipped off completely, baring all the underlying emotions she hadn’t seen him have for months. There wasn’t anything else in his expression other than hurt. “Do you have any idea how much it hurt to stay away from you? How much I wanted to turn back to you every time I leave? How much I let myself believe that you would never feel the same way so it would be easier? How much it hurt knowing that I could never be anything more than just the Captain to you? Do you even have any idea how much I love you?”

          He was breathing heavily now, his face crumpling as he tried to fight off his tears. Zoya felt her own falling down her cheeks in endless bidding. Everything faded around her. She couldn’t breathe.

          He loved her. Nikolai loved her.

          “I should’ve known that I would be the weaker one between us, the easier one to fall,” he continued. “Maybe if I did, we wouldn’t even be in this situation. But there’s always this small, traitorous part of me that would hope that we could be together, and I let it consume me.” He shook his head, and the tears finally fell from his eyes. “It was my mistake—loving you, someone I could never be with and someone who could never feel the same way for a mere guard like me, and I will pay for it for as long as I live."

          Zoya could only stare at him, feeling the weight of his words sink in her mind. She didn't know what to say. It was all what she wanted to hear from him, everything she had hoped for, and yet she couldn't even speak. Had he really believed that she couldn't love him back just because he was a guard? 

          "Nikolai…" she tried to say, but he was already standing in attention again, expression back to the Captain he was. 

          "I apologize for my outburst, Your Highness," he said with an even tone. "Please feel free to dismiss me if I made you uncomfortable."

          Zoya wanted to slap him or punch him, anything that would knock his brain off and make him stop being an idiot. It was only plausible to think of how to make him see how she felt for him. 

          The sound of the clock tower ringing on its ninth bell echoed in the night, and yet neither of them still moved. Zoya looked at him with her still-blurry vision as she walked closer to her Captain. 

          "Nikolai—" 

          One moment she was staring at a suddenly wide-eyed Nikolai, and the next thing she knew, he was pulling her behind him. She only had a moment to breathe before there was a sound of a gunshot, and the alarm from the main gates wailed. 

          There was a loud grunt, and Zoya turned to look over Nikolai’s shoulder, seeing Tolya pinning the guard down to the ground with his massive hands. He brought a fist down to the guard's face, and the latter slumped unconscious. 

          It only took a second for her to recognize him—the guard that Nikolai had reprimanded earlier. 

          He quickly gripped her wrist and wrapped an arm over her shoulder, making her lean down as he looked in all directions. "What the hell," he said. 

          Tamar appeared on Zoya's other side, her face grim. She helped Nikolai usher them behind a wall. "Everything went to hell inside. Some of the guards stationed in the ballroom were spies," she said. "I have no idea how they slipped past security." 

          Amidst all the things that happened within a span of a short time, one thought was clear in Zoya's mind. "Lada," she breathed. "Lada and the Queen, where are they?"

          "I have seen the Queen led away immediately when the shots started. She should be safe by now," Tamar said, and then she hesitated. "I haven't seen Lada." 

          No. Fear gripped onto Zoya, and she tried to shake away from their grip to search for her little sister. But Nikolai held her back. 

          "I'll find her," he said, voice strained. He was breathing heavily. "Tamar, take the Crown Princess to the underground bunker. She is to be kept there until it is safe." 

          Zoya turned to look at him, only to see him clutching his side with a wince evident on his face. Her eyes widened. Blood seeped through his shirt and his hand. "Nikolai, you've been shot," she said, trying to reach out for him to help put pressure in his wound, but he swatted her hand away. 

          "It's only a graze," he said, but they both knew he was lying. Zoya had never hated him more than she did now. "You have to go, there's no time. I'll find Lada." He looked her in the eye. "I swear it on my life."

          Tolya signaled for them through the other end of the balcony where another entrance to the palace was located without having to enter back in the ballroom.

          "Nikolai, I could go," Tamar tried, but Nikolai shook his head firmly.

          "I couldn't live with the fact that Lada could be in danger and I didn't do anything about it," he said. "Go. Now." 

          "Nikolai—" Zoya tried again, but he cut her off with a sharp stare. His face was already pale, but there was a dead set look in his eyes that she knew wouldn't change anything even if she pleaded or begged him. She felt her eyes sting. He had saved her life again. 

          "Go," Nikolai said, standing up from his place and checking over the wall. Then with much more force, he repeated, "Go!" 

          Zoya could only watch him get back inside the ballroom and into a high possibility of danger as she was ushered to safety. 

          She had never felt so helpless.

***

Hours passed by in a blur, it could have been a whole day already and they still wouldn't notice. Zoya was too preoccupied thinking of Lada's safety. 

          And as well as Nikolai’s. 

          Two of the most important people in her life were still out there in probable danger while she was safe here in the bunker, and she couldn't do anything but desperately send a prayer to the saints to protect them. It was the only thing she could think of. 

          Protect them and keep them safe, she thought as she pressed the heel of her palms to her eyes. Please. 

          The bunker she had been staying at was located directly under her chambers and was only one of the many scattered all around the palace.

          It had been too long since Tolya left them to aid their people from the ground, and Tamar was left to stay by the entryway. 

          "I know it wouldn’t be right if I said 'don't worry' as you have every right to be, Your Highness," Tamar said, making Zoya look up to the woman. There was a gentle expression on her face, and she offered Zoya a smile. "But I know they will be fine. They're both fighters. Stubborn fighters, if I might add."

          Zoya smiled back despite the situation, and she appreciated the woman's words. "Thank you, Tamar," she said, and she knew she meant it. "And I think we all have been through long enough to drop the formalities?" 

          Tamar chuckled. "I'm sure we can't do that, Princess," she said, and Zoya laughed as well.

          "I would prefer that." 

          "I think we both know why." 

          Zoya huffed weakly. It was Nikolai who had started to call her that, and everyone close to her had seemed to do the same. Even as everyone else addressed her formally, he didn't change. It was his favorite nickname for her. 

          A sharp pain stabbed through her chest as she remembered the first time she met him in the arena so long ago, when she knew him as nothing but the infuriating boy that seemed to know everything.

          But as she knew him through the years later on, she realized that he had always been a lot more than she gave him credit for. He was all and more.

          A tear suddenly slipped from her eye, and Zoya quickly reached up to wipe it away. 

          She had to believe he and Lada would get through this. She still had a lot to say to him, a lot of things she should've told him earlier. 

          Tamar suddenly perked up from her place from beside the door, and she put a finger to her lips as she crept closer to the entryway. One of her hands slowly grabbed the axe from her belt, her ear pressing to the door's surface. 

          There were two sharp knocks, followed by a heavy pound, and Tamar let out a breath before opening the door. It revealed Tolya, who looked fine except for the growing bruise on his cheek which made Zoya think of who could have landed a blow to the giant. But it made her feel relieved all the same. 

          Tolya was okay, and him being here without looking distressed meant that everything had most likely settled down. 

          Tolya chuckled softly when Tamar wrapped him in a bear hug. "I'm alright, dear sister," he said, putting a hand on Tamar's head and ruffling her hair affectionately as if she were the younger one, despite them being twins. "You should worry about your axes not being able to see action all night."

          Tamar shoved his hand off her head. "Alright, you win that one." 

          Zoya smiled at their interaction, and she stood up from her place in the corner of the room. She walked over towards them, a surge of wild hope igniting in her chest. 

          Tolya turned to her, and he immediately bowed. "Your Highness—" 

          But she stopped him, putting a hand on his shoulder. "Tolya, I believe we're way past formalities." She gave his shoulder a reassuring grip, and he seemed to understand, his hand coming up to pat hers. "I'm glad you're alright." 

          "Everything is under control, at least for now. The attack was believed to have been orchestrated by the Fjerdans, but we don't have enough evidence to pin it at them yet." He paused, his expression turning a bit pensive. Zoya's heart was hammering in her chest, and she refused to think about the worst. "Her Majesty is perfectly fine and safe in her quarters in the upper floor. But as for" —Tolya stopped and shook his head— "I haven't heard any news about them yet." 

          Zoya pushed past him without thinking, running up the staircase that led to her room. She could hear the twins calling out her name and running after her, but she didn't slow her pace as she burst out in the hallway of the east wing. 

          If they hadn't heard anything about them yet, then she would find them herself. No, she wouldn't just sit and wait for the news to come to her, like she did in the bunker all night. It wasn't possible that there wouldn't be any news about them. Lada was the second princess and she should be a priority. 

          There had to be something. Anything. 

          The path to the right by the end of the hall led to the upper floor and to the Queen's quarters, but Zoya decided that she would have to find Lada first. The younger one was Zoya's responsibility as well, and she didn't want to make the same mistake of letting Lada slip from her sight again. 

          Zoya rounded the corner to the left, and she stopped abruptly in her tracks. At the other end of the hall was a figure walking slowly as if they were having a hard time doing so. And in their arms was a child clutching at them in a tight embrace. 

          Her thoughts stopped altogether, and she couldn't seem to breathe. A muffled sob tore in her throat. 

          Nikolai and Lada. 

          They were alive. 

          Zoya took a wobbling step towards them, but couldn't do another when she felt all the strength left her body. 

          Nikolai had a wince on his face with every step he took, his hand gently rubbing at Lada’s hair as if to comfort her. He  stopped halfway through the hall when he finally turned his eyes forward, and Zoya met his gaze.

          For a long moment, neither of them moved. Maybe it was the utter surprise of crossing at each other's path in the hall or the relieved look in his eyes that mirrored her own that made them stop, but Zoya found that any reason didn't matter. 

          A single thought cleared in her mind. They're alive. 

          The stinging in her eyes returned. Then the feeling became unbearable and she finally let the tears fall when she saw a small smile on his lips. 

          Nikolai murmured something on Lada's ear, and the girl perked up from his shoulder and turned her head as well. Her gloomy expression brightened up at the sight of her. 

          "Zoya!" the girl exclaimed as Nikolai gently put her down, and she ran towards her. 

          Zoya could only feel more tears fall from her eyes as she knelt down and caught her little sister as Lada practically jumped in her arms. 

          She clutched at the girl tightly, feeling Lada do the same, and Zoya pressed a kiss to her temple. 

          Lada is okay. She's safe. She's alive. 

          Those were the only thoughts running in her mind. It felt as if a heavy weight on her shoulders had been lifted and she could finally breathe again. 

          Lada pulled away to look at Zoya, the girl's eyebrows furrowing together. "Why are you crying? I'm okay," she said, and Zoya had to laugh through her tears. Lada reached up to wipe Zoya's tears from her cheeks. "When you cry, I cry too. Please don't be sad."

          Zoya held a hand to Lada's face. "Who says I'm sad? These are happy tears," she said, tucking a stray hair behind Lada's ear. She searched her face, looking for any injuries that Lada couldn't have noticed. "Are you really okay? You weren't hurt? Not anywhere?" 

          Lada shook her head. "No. I didn't know why the people suddenly panicked when there was a loud bang. Then the alarm sounded, so I hid under our table," she narrated, and Zoya felt her worry returning when her mind flashed an image of a confused Lada trying to make sense sense of what's happening. 

          Zoya was still lost in her own thoughts until Lada added, "But Nicky still found me a bit later."

          This seemed to click something in her mind, and Zoya looked up to the hall, only to see it empty. She only had a glimpse of his retreating figure disappearing further down the path before she turned to Lada. 

          The younger one had a worried look on her face. "He looked like he was really hurt, but he kept telling me he's okay."

          Of course he would. He could've taken a lot more injuries and he would smile at Lada as if nothing happened. It had always been his nature, and Zoya didn't know if she hated or loved him more for it. 

          "Can you go check on him? I can see you're worried for him too," Lada said.  Something seemed to catch her attention, and then she was looking at something over Zoya's shoulder. She beamed. "Tolya! Tamar!" 

          Lada ran past her, and Zoya turned to see her younger sister jump to Tamar's open arms. 

          Zoya smiled softly as she stood up, seeing the twins embrace Lada with smiles of their own. It took her another moment to remember Lada's request, and she quickly turned to follow the direction where Nikolai had gone.

          She caught up with Nikolai easily on the next pathway, and for someone who was injured, he still moved faster than she had expected him to. But there was no denying the strain in his steps as he neared the main staircase that would lead him to the main foyer. 

          "Nikolai," she called out. For a moment, she was afraid that he would continue walking away. But knowing him, he would always answer to the royals. 

          Nikolai turned, and even though he had shown up breathing and alive, Zoya's heart clenched at the sight of him looking so exhausted. 

          He dropped his hand from his bad side, exposing the messy makeshift bandage wrapped around his upper body, and he stood up straighter. "Your Highness," he said, his voice strained as if he couldn't bring himself to speak to her. He averted his eyes. "It's good to see you're okay." 

          Zoya didn't know whether to slap him or just run to him. The weight of their previous conversation still hung heavily between them, with Nikolai still believing in his wrong thoughts. He was tired, but so was she. 

          "How long are you going to keep this up?" she said. "How long are you going to try and stay away from me? How long are you going to push me away?" 

          "For as long as I need to," he replied, looking back up at her and holding her gaze. He drew in a shaky breath. "Until I can look at you without wanting you." 

          His words felt like knives being driven to her chest, and Zoya was sure she could have handled the pain of the bullet he had taken for her a hundred times better. 

          Nikolai was so keen on staying away from her that he didn't even notice that she was hurting too.

          "Please make this easier for me." 

          Zoya reared back as if she were insulted. She huffed, and the tears didn't stop this time. "Make it easier for you?" she echoed. "For you, Captain? What about me? Did you even think of me? Did you think that I wouldn't be hurting when you pushed me away after giving me so much to yearn for? Did you even think just once that maybe I felt the same for you?"

          The words tumbled out of her mouth. She couldn’t stop it. Her pent up feelings from the past few months and her previous worry for him felt like a dam that had been destroyed. 

          There was a conflicted expression on his face. "I didn’t have to," he said, "because it couldn't have been true—" 

          "Here you are again—"

          "—and I would just let myself believe—"

          "I love you!"

          This made Nikolai stop, and a look of shock appeared on his face. He blinked, his feet taking a step back. 

          Zoya felt exhaustion wash over her, but she didn't stop. He needed to finally know the truth. The truth she should've said a long time ago. 

          "I love you," she repeated, her voice in a desperate sob. She made no excuse to cover it up. She had laid down her walls, her heart, her everything. "I've loved you ever since the day you've barged in that arena and told me I wasn't holding my sword correctly. And even as you annoyed me the time we met again after a decade, I've loved you still. And it only went deeper as the years went by, and I love you every single day—" 

          Her voice broke, her tears only adding to the struggle to find the right things to say because words weren't enough to describe the way she felt for him. "I love you, Nikolai, as the Captain, or as no one, I love you—" 

          Nikolai didn't let her finish when he reached her in two quick strides and crashed his lips to hers, drowning out the rest of the words she still wanted to say. She immediately responded in kind, her hand grabbing on his uniform to pull him closer as the other went to the back of his head. 

          Everything started and ended with the taste of his tongue, and Zoya kissed him harder, letting all her feelings go in the kiss. The Fjerdans or whoever had attacked them could go back and burn the palace to ashes, and she still wouldn't have cared. 

          She felt Nikolai’s tears on her cheek as he pulled away and rested his forehead to hers. He was panting, his breath ghosting against her lips. There was a still-conflicted look in his eyes, as if he couldn’t believe any of this was real. 

          Zoya held her hands to his face "Captain," she breathed. "Nikolai." She brought his face closer to hers. "I love you." 

          And when Nikolai kissed her again, Zoya knew he finally believed this was real.

#zoyalai #zoya nazyalensky #nikolai lantsov #king of scars #my writing #MORE ROLE SWAP AU #HJASFLA BECAUSE I CAN AND I AM TRASH FOR THIS AU #they finally stopped being idiots okay #bUT INJURED NIK #AND DISTRESSED ZOYA #TOOK ME THREE HOURS EACH TO WRITE BOTH CONFESSIONS #AND I AM LIVING #idk but i hope it slaps tho #how did this reach 5k? i have no idea #CONFESSION TIME YESSSSSSS #i love tolya and tamar okay