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weasleykisses · 7 months

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Never His (Remus Lupin x Reader)

A/N: when James needs help asking out Lily, he enlists you to play his fake girlfriend to make her jealous. In the process, you end up making Remus Lupin green with envy.

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Word count: 6.2k

You weren’t expecting James to throw himself into the chair across from you in the library, his face holding the most desperate of looks. He brushed his messy hair back from his forehead as he got situated in the seat. James looked like he had run all the way across the school to find you. You raised a brow, peering up from the textbook on the desk that you were trying to study. Remus turned to stare at his friend as well, taking a break from his own reading.

“Y/N, I need your help. It’s super important.” That could mean a lot of things, you thought. He was known for being quite the drama queen after all.

You replied smoothly, “I’m afraid I’ve got to hear the terms and conditions before I agree to anything.”

“Be my girlfriend,” James said bluntly. This took you by surprise. Your jaw fell slack, looking at him as if he had two heads. Was he insane or just incredibly stupid? What the hell happened to his obsession with Lily Evans? Since you met the boy in third year, he hadn’t shut up about the beautiful redheaded girl. She was certainly a catch too, with her looks and her brains. Who wouldn’t want to be with a girl like that?

You could feel Remus sit up straight as a board in the seat beside you, staring over at James with his eyes narrowed. The change was barely noticeable. James probably missed it; he was never very perceptive. You, other hand, noticed. Of course you did. You noticed everything about Remus. He was like a novel you had read a million times, comforting and familiar. Anything out of place, you took notice of.

You could certainly feel the tension coming off of Remus is waves. He never liked when James and Sirius fucked around with people for the hell of it. It wasn’t that he was a stick in the mud or anything, it was just that he hated when those two disturbed his peace with you. Hated it. Couldn’t he spend a few hours away from them? Enough time to appreciate your company?

Cautiously, you asked, “James, have you gone mad?”

He shook his head, eagerly reaching across the table and clasping both your hands between his, shaking them with excitement. “No, I have not! I’ve actually come up with a brilliant plan, but it will only work if you agree to help me out,” he said a bit too quickly, and you furrowed your brows, still awfully confused by the entire thing.

Remus was silent, just observing. He was angry, how could he not be? You were his girl. Well, not really. He had never asked you out, or implied he wanted you to be his girlfriend. But everyone knew that he liked you, maybe not you yourself, but everyone else. This included James. He should know better than to ask you out, especially right in front of him. It was cruel.

He wanted to argue with his best mate, James. Give him a shove in the shoulder and tell him to fuck right off. He refrained though. He wasn’t that bold, nor did he have the right to control what you did with your life. He wasn’t your boyfriend. He wouldn’t ever be your boyfriend. He just had to keep his mouth shut.

“Mind explaining then, Prongs?” you asked, pulling your hands from his grasp to cross your arms over your chest and leaning back in the chair.

“Be my girlfriend, just for a couple weeks, maybe a month. I’ll do anything you want if you help me out.”

“Why would you want me to be your girlfriend for any amount of time?” you scolded him.

“I want to make Lily jealous. The only way I can do that is showing her that I’ve moved on to other girls, but I don’t actually want to date anyone else,” he said, “You’re one of my best mates, and I don’t have to worry about you catching feelings for me like the other girls would.” He cracked a grin when you rolled your eyes at his cockiness. James wasn’t ugly, but he also didn’t have girls falling over themselves to be with him like Sirius did.

“Oh, thank Godric. I thought you actually wanted me to be your girlfriend.”

“Of course not. You’re like a little sister to me,” he laughed.

“Anyway, what would I have to do?”

Be my fake girlfriend for a month and I’ll buy you anything you want. We only have to pretend when we’re in front of other people, especially the girls. It’s basically fool-proof.”

“More like foolish, you dumbass,” you sighed. It wasn’t the worst proposition, considering James and his family were rich as fuck. He really could buy you anything you desired.

Remus was pretending that he didn’t care, his eyes trailed back down to the novel in his hands. James was just up to no good again, nothing out of the ordinary. He was hoping you would decline James’ request, but he knew that wasn’t going to happen. You were great friends with James, and were usually willing to help him out in any way you could. He hated that he had to sit there and listen to you discuss plans to date like it was completely normal.

“Please, Y/N, please. You're the nicest girl I know. You gotta help a friend out,” he begged.

Just shut the fuck up, James. Remus thought to himself. He would never say it aloud though.

“Fine. I expect half of Honeydukes inventory as compensation, but I’ll do it,” you told him with a heavy sigh. He punched the air enthusiastically then hugged you so tightly around the middle that he lifted you from your chair and swung you around in his arms. He was quite strong from being a dedicated chaser, after all. You laughed nervously, pushing against his shoulders so he would set you back down. “Really, it’s no big deal. I’m doing this because I think you and Lily would be cute together, alright?” You told him.

“Yes, ma’am,” he replied swiftly, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “Sit next to me at dinner today. We’ll play it up then, make it public.”

“Okay.”

He turned around after giving you one last thumbs up, rushing out of the room to no doubt tell Sirius about his plan. They did everything together, so of course Pads would either figure it out himself or find out after James caved and explained himself. You took a seat again in the wooden library chair, sinking down with your hand pinching the bridge of your nose.

“I don’t know why you entertain him,” Remus finally commented. He sounded bitter, but you figured it was just because your study session was interrupted.

“No harm done. I get a bunch of candy, he gets one step closer to the girl of his dreams,” you reasoned, resting your cheek in the palm of your hand.

If you were being honest, you wished that it was Remus asking you to be his girlfriend, but Remus didn’t care for you like that. You were just friends. Both of you enjoyed your quiet time together, whether you were reading or drinking a cup of tea. You liked to go to Hogsmeade together and drink butterbeer in a booth, talking about nothing and everything at the same time. It was something the other boys weren’t interested in. You could try hanging out with Lily, Dorcas, and Marlene, but they would always drift off to talking about boys, James in particular.

Remus just had a way of keeping your attention, entertaining your curious mind. You two had become so close over the years because of it.

You were the one that snuck into their dorm on nights after the full moon, healing potions in your pockets and bandages at the ready to clean up his injuries. You didn’t mind that he was a werewolf, in fact, you thought it was pretty interesting. It compelled you to work harder in your studies to be a healer, so one day you might be able to lessen his pain. Needless to say, you really liked Remus. He was handsome, tall, positively dreamy, and oh-so-sweet like honey and sugar. He was one of a kind, and you would be lying if you said his determination to stay just friends didn’t sting a little.

But the world keeps turning whether or not the boy you fancy likes you back. You tipped your head down again to study the text in front of you. Studying was especially hard now that you couldn’t think of anything other than James asking you to be his girlfriend before you mustered the courage to ask Remus.

______

The next time you saw James was at dinner that evening. You sat beside him after he waved you over. Normally you would sit on the opposite side with Remus flush against you to make room for everyone else at the table. Today, Sirius sat beside Remus and you took Sirius’ seat right beside James. He slung his arm around your shoulders to get you closer to him.

The brunette practically pulled you into his lap with how eager he was, and you yelped, garnering the attention of the other boys at the table. Remus scowled, turning his head down to glare into his soup. James didn’t have to be so dramatic. Lily would get the point without all the theatrics.

In fact, Lily was sitting at the other end of the table with her eyes trained on you and James. She looked a little perturbed, and when James turned to glance down the table, she quickly turned her head away, pretending she wasn’t at all interested. Real smooth, Lily.

You knew Lily liked James, at least a tiny bit. She talked about him far too often not to. You were in a few classes together, and James was a frequent topic of discussion. While Lily would never admit to her crush, she hinted at it here and there. It was a similar situation for you and Remus, who you vehemently denied having a crush on for a few years now. Lily was probably shocked to see you in the arms of someone else.

You played it up for the crowd, people from the surrounding tables looking at the both of you and whispering amongst themselves. Y/N and James? How scandalous.

Your hands were clasped together, fingers intertwined and sitting between you on the table for everyone to see, and it disgusted Remus. Sirius was practically gagging at the sight of two of his best friends being so openly affectionate, but at least his disgust was jokingly. Remus was genuinely disturbed. He wanted to leave the dining hall and head right to his dorm for the night, just to avoid the pangs of betrayal assaulting his heart.

He ducked his head to take a deep breath, trying to pretend like nothing was wrong. That James and the girl of his dreams openly acting like a couple wasn’t completely tearing him to shreds.

He figured Sirius caught on to how he was feeling because the black haired boy turned to him with a sympathetic, half smile, as if to say “what can you do?”.

“I missed you today, babe,” your voice dripped out, oozing with fake attraction. A sickly bright smile crossed your lips as you looked at James. Even worse so, James leaned forward and gave you a kiss to your cheek, and it didn’t even phase you. Since when were you and James so close? Even with the two of you playing it up, Remus never expected you to be so casual about it. It was like flirting with James came to you so naturally.

The pair of you laughed together and faked lovey dovey smiles here and there. It seemed to work too, because after only about ten minutes of PDA, Lily was packing her belongings and marching right out of the Great Hall with Mary following closely behind, most likely to console her. James grinned even brighter at that and pumped his fist in the air.

“I think it’s working,” he said happily, and you nodded. You still had to hold hands, to keep up the image for everyone who didn’t know it was fake, but at least you could chill out a bit without her around. You sipped on the baked potato soup in front of you.

“Working a little too well, don’t you think? What if she gets so upset that she moves on from you completely?” Remus asked, rather grouchy as he did so. He felt so sick to his stomach, unable to take another bite of his dinner without his inside churning.

He decided he was done with his dinner after looking up to his two friends all cuddled up with each other, deciding he had better things to do than endure this torture. He packed his bag and stood. You watched him stand, and quickly followed, gathering your belongings just as he did.

“Rem, wait up. Where are you going?” It wasn’t like him to leave dinner so early. You figured something was wrong. Your worries were only confirmed when he let out a long, exhausted sigh. You knew him too well to let him sneak past unscathed.

“I just need to take a walk. Not feeling the best,” he lied. Well, technically it was true. He felt like shit, just not in the way he wanted them to think.

Behind your back, you missed the look Sirius and James shared, that sneaky smirk coming to rest across James’ face. You also missed the way Peter snickered a bit under the cover of his hand. His friends were absolutely awful for doing this to him, but they thought it was the only way to wring a confession out of him. Hit two birds with one stone, as they say. Get both Lily and Remus jealous at the same time, hopefully uniting two perfect couples in the process.

“Well, I’m coming with you. We can go take a walk in the courtyard.” He didn’t protest as you hurried to catch up him and his long legs, your robes flying behind you as you rushed ahead. Just because you were “dating” James didn’t mean you were going to ignore Remus when you thought something was wrong.

And so, you followed your tall friend out of the dining hall into the hallway, making a b-line for the exit doors heading into the transfiguration courtyard. He felt a little better knowing you were with him and not cuddled up to Potter anymore. He was incredibly jealous, not that he would do anything about it. He didn’t even have the right to be jealous either. He had to remind himself time and time again, you weren’t his. You never were and most likely never would be.

It wasn’t long before the pair of you found your ways to a covered bench in the courtyard, sitting side by side, staring at the fountain in the middle of the snow dusted grass, looking into the pool of frozen water complete with golden coins preserved in the bottom. It was a muggle tradition that some students brought from home to the castle. They’d throw a coin in and make a wish, hoping it to come true.

There had been a few times you tossed a galleon in there, begging Merlin himself to give you what you wished for most in the world. The boy sitting right beside you, in fact. You had been making those same wishes for years now, and each time you were let down. Remus never asked you to be his girlfriend, nor did he kiss you in the rain like you always fantasied about. He hadn’t noticed the hints you would give him about how you felt, either ignoring them or choosing to be oblivious to them.

You cried many tears over the years because of your feelings for the boy. How conflicted you felt about confessing to him. You worried you would miss your opportunity and he would move onto another girl, but you also feared for your friendship. You didn’t want to make things awkward and lose him completely.

You watched the snowflakes as they fell around fountain, wondering what happened to all those wishes. Every wish you made begging to finally be his.

“Aren’t you cold?” he asked, looking down at your skirt and knee high socks, a thin slit between them exposing your bare skin to the frigid, snowy air.

You shook your head, snapping out of your daze. “I’ll survive,” you laughed, pressing your forehead to his shoulder. “What’s on your mind?”

“Really, Y/N, it’s nothing.”

“The only other time I’ve seen you storm out of the dining hall before having dessert was the day Sirius put a whoopie cushion under your seat. You can’t lie to me, sweetheart.” He felt his heart pang in his chest at the nickname you always used for him. He wanted to be your sweetheart, to love and kiss you whenever he wanted. To hug you to his chest and profess his love into your ear. He wanted to hold hands with you during lunch, and to have you sit in his lap in the common rooms, regardless of who was around to see. He wanted everything to do with you. He wanted to just drown in your soft words and your gentle touches.

But he knew, just because you want something doesn’t mean you’ll get it. It felt like he needed you, to breathe, to eat, to sleep, to function like a normal human being. Maybe it was his naive 18 year old brain telling him these things, but he swore that he loved you more than anyone could imagine. He loved you from the tip of your nose all the way down to your feet. Every inch was perfectly tailored just how he liked it.

“Whatever it is, you’re gonna be alright,” you assured, nudging his shoulder gently with your own. For a moment, he forgot about the entire James situation and just thought of you, how you made him feel, and he did feel alright. He always felt safe when you were around. Even when he was his most vulnerable after a full moon, he trusted you to care for him.

James didn’t know you nearly as well as Remus did. He knew it was stupid to worry about you catching feelings for the brunette chaser with a wicked grin, but he couldn’t help it. Not when he had seen girls flock to his two attractive best friends for years. He knew it was stupid, and he knew he should live in the moment.

In this moment, he had you to himself. He could pretend you were his, all he ever wanted.

“I guess you’re right,” he mumbled, fiddling with the strap of his bag. “You always know how to make things better.”

“Me? What about you? You always know just the right things to say.”

He wanted to say just how much he loved you. He could feel the words stuck in the back of his throat, and he just wanted to cough them up. You took his breath away, literally.

It was quiet for a long time, just the two of you sitting there quietly, listening to the chilly breeze flying through. Your hand rested beside his on the bench, your fingers close enough that if you moved a couple centimeters you would be touching. What he wouldn’t give to hold your hand in his and press kisses to your knuckles.

He needed you, and he was just so scared. Seeing you with James made him upset enough, but the thought of losing you completely made him feel worse. Your time at Hogwarts was ending soon, and he worried so much, overthinking every little thing.

He wondered if you thought about the same things. If you worried about your life when you graduated. Where you would go and what kind of person you’d turn out to be. He knew you spent a lot of time working on healing spells, assisting in the infirmary when you could. You wanted to be a healer at St. Mungos, saving people.

Maybe you could save him, too, keep his head above water when things got difficult. The life of a werewolf is never easy, and he couldn’t imagine what it would be like without you by his side to ease the pain.

“When we are done with all this- Hogwarts, I mean…You’ll keep contact with me, right?” he asked, feeling that familiar sickness churn in his stomach, afraid of what you might say. He knew you would never say something cruel, but he found himself preparing for it each time. He was afraid he would never hear from you again once you found a good job at the hospital taking care of patients, running around each day busier than the next.

He felt the self-deprecation sneaking back in.

You nodded your head furiously. “Of course! I would never forget about you, Remus, you know that right?” When he didn’t respond, you reached up to take both his cheeks in your cold hands. You ran your thumbs along the scars across his face ever so delicately, he felt like you were running a feather against his skin. He sighed into your touch, leaning his head into your hand. “You’re my best friend. Nothing and no one could ever take me away from you.”

Bravely, he reached out so his strong, calloused palm rested on your thigh, his fingers pressing warmly against that gap between your socks and your uniform skirt. Shivers ran down your spine at the touch. He was so gentle with you, it made your heart melt into goo at the mere thought of his touch. You were sure he could hear your heart beginning to race with how hard it pumped in your chest, how excited he was making you.

“What did I do to deserve you?” he murmured, just loud enough for you to hear him over the wind blowing against your ears.

“If anything, I don’t deserve you.” You ducked your head as you felt heat rush into your cheeks. “You’re perfect, Remus. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”

After taking a deep breath, he started, stumbling a bit over his words, “Y/N- I have something to tell you.”

And you swore he was going to kiss you. As he stared down into your eyes, his eyes flickering down to your lips a few times. You waited for it, sitting there in anticipation, watching his every move. You felt his hand resting on your thigh, rubbing small circles against your bare skin. Goosebumps rose to the surface and you shivered more from the contact than the cold breeze whipping against your face.

You were sure he was going to kiss you, if only the doors to the courtyard didn’t burst open with students barrelling through the doorways. Quickly, you pulled your hands down to your lap and he shoved his hand into his pocket. Your eyes trailed to the ground, and you mentally cursed yourself for being too slow, for not kissing him yourself when you thought the time was right.

Maybe he didn’t intend to kiss you. Maybe he was confused and was just showing you affection to reciprocate your own. Either way, you felt a spark with Remus that you hadn’t felt with anyone else. The kind you think you’ll only know once in a lifetime.

Whether you were fake dating James or not, you weren’t going to let that feeling go.

______

You two were the star couple of the party that night, standing in the middle of a celebration for Gryffindor, James holding a cup of liquor in his hand, and you carrying something fruity. He had his arm hooked around your neck, pulling you in close so his lips just barely skimmed over your ear. You smiled, finding the feeling of his skin against your ear and the breaths he was exhaling to be quite ticklish.

Lily was behind you, watching from the corner as she sipped on something nonalcoholic. She was never a drinker, and that just made it all the more infuriating for her to see you two dancing so intimately while she was stone-cold sober.

“I reckon she’s getting close to her breaking point, doll. You’ll be getting a shitload of candy once she approaches me about this entire thing,” he whispered and you laughed, nodding your head in agreement. Dating James wasn’t actually that bad. The only downside was that Remus wasn’t spending nearly as much time with you as before. Probably because you had to spend most of the day following James around to keep up the illusion of this whirlwind love affair.

It hurt, not seeing your best friend. You missed his company. He was your favorite person ever, with his pretty eyes and his adorable smile. The way his sandy hair would fall over his eyes was effortlessly beautiful, and his sweaters made him look so intelligent and mature, two qualities you loved in men. James was unfortunately neither of those things. Perhaps that’s what made “dating” him so simple. There were no surprise feelings between you two because the things you each wanted in a significant other were completely different.

You wanted a Remus in your life. Someone so handsome it had you swoon. Someone kind and soft and gentle around the edges. Someone with a sweet tooth and a pretty smile that you could stare at for days without getting bored of it. You loved to talk to him about anything and everything, he just made it all so interesting. You wanted someone who shared your love of books, candy, and peace and quiet. Remus Lupin was all of that and more.

He was just so lovely. You wished he was the one you were dancing with and not James. You wished that it was his lips pressed to your ear, whispering sweet nothings to you instead of these nonsensical plans of making a certain redhead jealous.

He sat on the couch, talking with Peter about something that happened in potions that morning. He looked stunning with his face lit up by the flames in the fireplace. If only you could walk over there and take a picture, keep it forever, look at it whenever you were feeling down.

He glanced up at you every now and again, just checking. He never looked for very long though, turning his head down with a grimace on his face each time. Remus couldn’t stand the sight of you so intimate with someone else, even if he knew it was all fake.

But how was he supposed to know if you’d accidentally grown feelings for his friend over the course a few weeks. You’d gotten much closer, hugging and kissing on the cheeks and forehead quite often. You laughed when James told jokes no matter how stupid they were. You attended his quidditch matches, which you hated doing before this entire mess.

Remus was afraid you changed your mind somehow. That you now thought James Potter was someone you could see yourself dating for real.

He couldn’t handle the thought, feeling himself beginning to crumble. He tried to maintain the conversation with Peter, only to feel himself zoning out, eyes trailing over to you helplessly every time.

You wrapped your arms around James’ neck, dancing slowly at the song that played over the record player. “Are you okay with me kissing you?” He asked, “I think it’ll be the nail in the coffin to finish all of this.”

You pulled back a little, your face draining of its color. Did you want to kiss James? Not particularly. Did you really care? It was hard to say. You wanted to be kissing someone else, a certain boy on the couch, but that was out of the question. You and James were just friends, two actors trying to woo the girl he so desperately wanted. It was like acting in a school play. It was just pretend. Harmless, really. James had kissed tons of other girls before you. It was normal for him.

You always kind of imagined this sort of situation with Remus. It stung a little to know that you would sooner have the chance to kiss James Potter as opposed to your actual crush.

You peered over your shoulder for a second to see Lily looking absolutely taken with James, and then turned back to the boy in front of you. It was a tough decision, but you ended up nodding your head. “It’s okay. Nothing too dramatic, yeah?”

And with that, your quidditch playing, Lily-obsessed friend kissed you right in the middle of the bustling party. You lips pressed together and you shut your eyes so you didn’t have to look at him. He ran his hand down your cheek and over your jaw for a moment as he leaned in closer, really trying to make it look authentic.

Thankfully, it was short lived because soon enough, someone else had grabbed your arm firmly and tugged you out of James’ clutches. You turned around to be met with a sweater vest clad boy glaring down at the two of you with an unimaginable amount of frustration in his expression. His entire face from cheeks to the ears was red, and his lips were downturned into a frown.

“Rem-” you started, but he interrupted you.

“That’s enough,” he muttered, and you could clearly hear the hurt in his voice. James tried to make it better, claiming that it was all for show, that he should calm down a bit, but Remus wasn’t having any of it. “I think your little fake relationship thing has run its course, don’t you think?”

“What’s wrong, Remus?” you questioned, peering up at him with those bright e/c eyes he had come to adore, and had missed over the past few weeks. “James, you stay here. Remus, let’s head to the dorms,” you suggested, motioning with your free hand to the stairwell leading up to the boys’ room. You certainly didn’t want to cause a scene.

James nodded, brows raised when he looked at Remus, a small smirk on his face. You didn’t know what he meant by that expression, but Remus sure did, and he was regretting the day he ever confessed to the boys that he fancied you. He wondered if James had an ulterior motive by fake dating you; if he did it to make Remus jealous, because if that were the case, he most definitely succeeded.

As you led him to the staircase, you noticed over your shoulder that poor Lily was walking over to James, her head ducked down shyly as she approached. James, as confident as ever, flashed a sparkly white grin and started a conversation as if it were the most easy thing in the world.

Remus followed you up the stairs and into his room, which was empty considering everyone was downstairs partying the night away. You shut the door behind him, finally letting go of his arm so you could cross yours over your chest. He was tall, and you had to look up to meet his eyes, but he was never intimidating to you. Not even when he was angry like today. He was too gentle to yell at you, much less hurt you in any way.

“Mind telling me what’s got you so upset?” You tapped your toes on the floor, the soft clicking noise ringing out in the quiet room, music from outside muffled by the heavy door.

You didn’t notice the water that was beginning to gather in the corners of his eyes.

He thought for a moment, before a whisper fell from his lips, and you almost didn’t catch it.

“Why did you have to kiss him?” he asked weakly, his voice suddenly a lot softer now that you were alone. A lot sadder, too. “Why did you have to kiss him right there in front of me?” he repeated, squeezing his eyes shut and he pressed the palms of his hands to cover them. He felt heartbroken. Absolutely crushed that you had kissed his best friend, that he had to watch as you did so. It was so casual, like it didn’t even matter to you, but it mattered the world to Remus.

He felt he might cry. Tears bubbled up in the corners of his eyes and he tried his hardest to keep them from dripping down his cheeks. No matter how hard he tried, he found himself crying anyway.

You were crestfallen when you noticed the tears running down his cheeks, a gasp coming from your lips. He was crying, and it was because of you. You had done this to him, your best friend, the guy that you supposedly had a crush on for nearly 4 years straight now. You’d never made someone cry; it broke your heart.

You rushed up to him, bringing your hands up to move his, letting them sink to his sides. Softly, with the pads of your thumbs, you wiped away the salty tears running down his cheeks. He didn’t even shy away from your touch, he just let you wipe them away silently, not daring to look you in the eyes. His eyes were stuck to the ceiling, trying to blink away what he was feeling. You being so nice to him only made things worse. He felt like an ass. You could do whatever you wanted. If you wanted to kiss James, so be it. He had no right to be upset when you weren’t his.

“Remus, sweetheart, it’s gonna be okay. Just tell me what’s wrong.”

It was silent for a moment as he thought of what he wanted to say, as you stared up into his teary eyes with concern etched across your face. It was getting harder and harder to pretend everyday that he wasn’t bothered by your presence when you weren’t in his arms, when he couldn’t freely touch you and love you, and kiss you silly until you were laughing with glee. It took so much effort to suffocate all those feelings down. He didn’t think he could fuck things up anymore, so he said the only thing he had on his mind.

“I love you.”

You were at a loss for words. He loved you? You felt your heart beat faster in your chest at his words, and you shook your head, clearly having misheard him. There was no way that Remus Lupin loved you. Not in the way you thought he meant. Surely, he would have said something by now. Surely you would have caught onto what he was feeling this entire time. “What?”

“Don’t make me say it again, Y/N. I’m already pathetic as it is,” he muttered, his eyes now drawn down to the red carpet below their feet.

“Remus Lupin loves me,” you whispered mostly to yourself, “You love me?”

He chuckled bitterly, “As catastrophic as it is, yes, with all my heart, Y/N. Since the very moment I laid eyes on you.”

“Why didn’t you tell me? I-I would have never kissed James if I knew-”

“Why would I tell you and fuck everything up?”

“Fuck everything up? Remus, I just wasted my first kiss on James Fleamont Potter when I could have been kissing you!”

“What?” Now it was his turn to be confused. He looked up to you finally, his eyes still glassy from crying, lips just agape with surprise.

You shook your head and laughed. “I’m in love with you! It’s always been you.” Your arms wrapped around his middle, hugging him to your chest and laughing into his sweater. He immediately took notice of your warmth radiating through his clothes, bringing him back to the real world. You loved him. You, the girl of his dreams, were hugging him and confessing your love to him. He wrapped his arms around your shoulders and brought you closer to his body, cradling you like a precious artifact in his possession. He never wanted to let you go again.

He sighed, resting his chin on the top of your head. “You have no idea how hard it was keeping my cool around you all this time. When I saw you snuggled up to James, I wanted to kill him. He knew better than to make me jealous.”

“James knew how you felt about me?”

“Sirius, James, and Peter all knew.”

“And none of them thought to enlighten me? The betrayal.”

You inhaled the scent of his sweater, chocolate bars and mint coming in like waves. He was everything that you loved in the world all condensed into a single perfect person. He fit in your arms like a puzzle piece.

“Guess you’ve got to break up with James now,” he mumbled into her hair, stroking the back of your head, “Because I’m never letting you go ever again.”

“I think that can be arranged.”

#remus lupin x reader #remus lupin one shot #harry potter x reader #harry potter #remus lupin #marauders era #remus lupin fanfic #fake dating #harry potter fanfic #james potter x reader #marauders x reader #hp fanfic #fem!reader

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spacecowboyhotch · 4 months

Text

Personal Issue

summary: santi invites you to his hotel room the day after your engagement to talk. he says the unexpected— that he’s in love with you.

prompt: "Why did you never tell me?" "It was a personal issue." "You being in love with me kind of also involves me." - @creativepromptsforwriting

pairing: santi garcia x f!reader

contents: get together fic, best friends to lovers, simp!santi (he’s lowkey a lil pathetic but i love him), angst, mental health issues/thoughts of dying, cheating, kissing

wc: 1,966

an: a teeny tiny something bc i miss santi. thanks to @ivystoryweaver for the beta <3

oscar characters masterlist

"Why did you never tell me?" You demand, unable to keep the horror out of your voice.

Santi ignores the way your tone scrapes at the wound in his heart— the wound that’s always been open because of you. Always fresh, unable to heal because of you. You always seemed to be just out of reach, slipping through his fingers for one reason or another.

"It was a personal issue,” He reasons, shoving his hands in his pockets.

He can hardly look at you. It’s humbling. He’s never had an issue with charming a woman, but you aren’t just any woman. You’re his best friend. There are too many eggs in this basket.

You scoff, crossing your arms against your chest, "You being in love with me kind of also involves me."

“I didn’t— things were different before.”

“Different,” You test the word, not at all buying it. It feels like bullshit. Like a cop-out.

“Yes, different. We were kids, and then I was gone all the time.”

“No, Santi, you can’t do this to me.”

Santi smiles, though there is no humor in it. You’re right— he shouldn’t be doing this. Not today, not any day, but he’s finally reached his limit. It’s now or never.

“I don’t really have a choice, now did I, cariño?”

You glare at him, about ready to rip his head off because that‘s not true. You and Santiago have known each other for most of your lives— and you’ve loved him for at least half that. He could’ve told you days, weeks, months, years ago that he felt the same. But in true Santiago Garcia fashion, thinking only of himself and the consequences that sit right in front of him, he’d told you today.

Today wouldn’t be so bad if it wasn’t the day after you’d gotten engaged. No, Santi chose the day after you’d finally given yourself to someone else completely, the day after you promised yourself you’d settle and try to stop loving him. What you’ve wanted for years and years on end has finally come and now it feels like some sort of cruel joke.

“That’s one of the most heinous lies you’ve ever told.”

“The Colombian government would disagree.”

“You know what— get the hell out of here. I don’t want to see you ever again. I can’t believe that you think you can just waltz right in here and—“

Santi takes two long strides towards you, closing the gap between you so that he can cup your face. “Tell me no. Say it. You have to say it to me.”

“Santiago, please,” You plead softly with him, your eyes round with fear. Your hands reach up to grasp his, making futile attempts to pull them away. “Don’t make me choose.”

Santi leans closer, the tip of his nose ghosting yours. His eyes are darker than usual, burning into you, a little angry— though he has no right to be— and a little desperate. “Why? Why not, hmm? He’s not that important, is he? Because you know you’ll choose me, don’t you?”

“Stop. Stop. Do you know how unfair this is? How fucked up it is for you to tell me this?”

Santi’s grip on your face tightens— it’s not painful but it’s frantic. You can feel the urgency in his fingertips. “Yes. Yes, I know. And I’ve always wanted to be better for you. I want to be a good man, I want to be worthy. Not some fucked up guy who’s better at killing than he is at telling the woman he loves how much she means to him. But, I’m not.”

“You could try.”

“I have. Don’t you get it, baby, I have. Yesterday when I saw those pictures. When I saw this—“ He tangles his fingers with your own, twisting your hand so you have to stare the ring sat on your finger in the face.

It glistens and gleams like it taunting you. It’s exactly what you wanted— the right cut, the right material—sparkling even in the dark. Your stomach churns at the sight of it. You shouldn’t have said yes, that much you know for sure. When you went back to your apartment last night you sat in the shower, your tears disguised under its spray. And when you had emerged, you’d made yourself a promise. To be a good and loyal spouse to the man that had actually chosen you.

“It drove me fucking insane. I lost it because I’m losing you. I had to try. If you say no, I’ll never come back. I’ll take assignment after assignment but if there’s even a small chance, baby, that you could still love me— because I know you did…I know you do.”

“I don’t want you gone forever, Santi. I said that because I’m angry.”

“You have every right to be.”

“I don’t need you to tell me that.”

“Then what do you need, huh? Tell me, and I’ll give it to you. Whatever you want.”

There’s more than one answer to that, but you have to give him the right answer. You’d just promised yourself last night that you would move on. Who knew that he would make it so difficult.

With a soft, shaky breath you say, “I…I need you to let me go.”

Santi goes dangerously still, his breath catching. “What?”

“I need you to let me go,” You repeat gently, closing your eyes so you don’t have to face him. “I shouldn’t have come here.”

The words sound syrupy in his ears, far away and unreal. He looks at you with confusion. “You want me to let you go?”

“Yes.”

The sharp anger and desperation in Santi’s eyes fade away, leaving his features soft and round and sad. So markedly sad. He lets his eyes trace your face for memorization; lips and eyes, the slope of your nose. He leans in to kiss your forehead, letting out a soft sigh.

Santi has done wrong by so many others and even done wrong by you. But this he’ll do right. If you want him to let you go then he will. He’ll let you walk out of here and never look back. Maybe he’ll get so involved in his work that he won’t think of you or this moment ever again. Maybe something will take him away completely. He flinches at his thought— it’s been a long time since something that has floated around in his mind like that. Taking a step away from you, he lets you go, fingers aching with the ghost of your skin against his.

You rest your face in your hands for a few moments, trying to pull yourself together. And when you straighten, you’re sure not to look Santi in his, just in his general direction. You’re broken enough and meeting his gaze would surely cause you to fall apart.

“Thank you, Santi,” You whisper, not trusting yourself to speak any louder.

He gives you a stiff nod, “Anything for you.”

Why do those words feel like you’re being stabbed in the heart? If he meant them, then why did he wait so long? Why did he do this to the both of you? Your vision blurs a bit with tears and you quickly grab your coat from where it’s laid on his bed, taking deliberate steps towards the door. Your hand lingers on the doorknob— are you sure that you want to do this? To walk away from the man you’ve always wanted?

“Wait,” He calls after you.

You freeze, but don’t turn towards him— that would be asking for trouble. Trouble you are trying so fucking hard to avoid. “What is it?”

“I just— I have to say it to you one more time because I don’t know if I’ll be able to again.”

“I told you I didn’t want you gone for good, Santi. We don’t have to do this, you can just let me walk away and we can act like it never happened,” You say, though you’re not sure if you’re trying to convince him or yourself more.

“I don’t think I can promise to stick around. I can’t watch you marry someone else. I’m not gracious enough, querida.”

“Okay,” You whisper, the tears in your eyes starting to fall.

“I…I love you. I always will.”

Silence falls between you two, an empty cove. Santi hopes that it’ll be enough, that somehow, miraculously you’ll turn around and run into his arms, telling him that you love him too. Instead, he hears a soft sob and watches as your hand rises to wipe at your face before you straighten up and step out into the hall.

When the door shuts behind you he feels like he’s drowning. Like he can’t breathe. His heart is thrumming loudly in his ears, and he crumbles, letting out a groan as his knees hit the ground.

What the fuck has he done? Lost you forever, and told you that he can’t stick around. That was the last time he would ever see you. A world without you is one he’s sure he doesn’t want to be in.

He’s completely paralyzed with fear. He’s not sure how long he sits on the ground like this, shocked and still, but eventually his body starts to ache so badly he’s unable to ignore it. He crawls to the bed, reaching up to rest his weight on it and lift himself onto it. Here he can rot until he can no longer. Until Frankie or Will or Benny come to bang down the door and figure out what the hell is wrong with him.

It’s not long after that that someone does start knocking on his door. Has it been days? One of them was here already. Santi feels like it’s been minutes and weeks all at the same time, time stretching and squeezing in a way that feels unreal. It takes real effort to rise out of bed and make his way to the door. He doesn’t bother to check who it is, opening it with no reservations.

Maybe he died of starvation or dehydration. He must have been lying there much longer than he thought because it’s you. You’re standing at the door, tear-stained and so goddamn beautiful. This has to be heaven— except he’s undeserving.

“I love you too,” You blurt out.

“What?”

“I love you too,” You repeat. When Santi says nothing, staring at you in a daze you start to ramble. “I tried to go home and I couldn’t sleep. And then I drove around a bunch but I couldn’t stop crying because how am I supposed to live my life without you? Then all of a sudden I was here again. I love you, Santiago.”

“You love me.”

“Yes, I love you. Are you okay?”

Santi feels like his body has recalibrated. “Am I— get over here,” He murmurs, reaching to pull you into his room and crushing your mouth to his.

He presses you against the wall, covering your body with his own as he completely devours your mouth, forcing his way in and sucking at your tongue. All you can do is melt into him, hands scrambling to find purchase in the fabric of his shirt so that you can clutch him closer. His mouth is firm and so sweet. You want to kiss him and kiss him and kiss him for the rest of your life. Something in your brain reminds you that maybe, just maybe, if he loves you as much as he claims he does you will. It has you giggling into his mouth.

He grins into the kiss. “My kissing is funny, is it?”

“Funny isn’t the word I’d use for it but just to be sure— kiss me again?”

“Anything for you,” He murmurs, his mouth capturing yours once more.

santi taglist: @jitterbugs927, @theconsultingdoctor10, @tanzthompson, @clairevoyanceee, @moonmalice, @tiffanypooh, @dearvirtualdiary-blog1, @marc-spectorr, @xbellaxcarolinax, @toracainz, @mccn-bcys, @missdictatorme, @whatthefishh

#santi garcia x reader #santiago garcia x reader #santi garcia x fem!reader #santiago garcia x fem!reader #triple frontier #triple frontier fanfiction #arson writes

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onsunnyside · 1 year

Note

Hi Sonny dear!!!✨ would you consider writing a sweet pogue reader and a super mean Rafe!!!😈 he could be the meanest meanie that ever was! Like he can make reader go into tears in seconds 😭! Plus you are such a sweetheart 🤭

hi lovely bestie !! and yes I would 🌚 me thinks… (tw stepcest)

pogue!reader is a lil crybaby, super sensitive and sweet, as shy as they come 😣 you’ve never known your mother, so you were more than surprised when she married Ward and wanted to reconnect with you. Long story short, you, Sarah and Wheezie have grown close since reconnecting with your mother. All that time at Tanneyhill gave you a glimpse into the Kook life, the immense wealth and comfort, but it also put you in the same place as Rafe. You live with your father on The Cut for most of the year, and regardless of how much you try to fit into the Kook life whenever visiting your mother, you’ll never be like them, Rafe has drilled that into your head.

He’s absolutely terrible, your worst nightmares personified. He has tormented you and, on a few occasions, has made you run out of the house in tears. He isn’t afraid to cut deep into your delicate little heart—that’s why Sarah refuses to leave you two alone together. But try as she might, Rafe will always find a way to corner you:

“What? You don’t wanna say hi to your big brother?” He cocks his head, wearing that stupid grin as you try to push him away, his tall and broad statue barely sways. “Did you forget your manners?”

You gulp, tears already welling in your eyes. He looms over you threateningly, daring you to snap at him, or raise your hand at him (which you’ve only done once after you had a bit of liquid courage).

His hand reaches for you face, those long fingers tracing down your heated cheeks to your neck. “You remember what happened the last time you ignored me?”

How could you forget?

His touch was burned into your skin, his filthy words seared into the walls of your skull like a cruel mockery of how pathetically weak you are. Worst of all, you didn’t hate how good he made you feel. Even to this day, you haven’t touched that spot inside you, or tasted another man since.

“Have you been getting my packages?”

“Y-Yes…”

“Then why haven’t you called me back?” His fingers pinch your chin, forcing you to meet his dark gaze. “That was the deal, wasn’t it? I keep my mouth shut about what a little whore you are, and you do what I say.”

Your thighs clench and a sinking feeling fills your stomach. You’re almost certain you won’t be joining Sarah and the rest of the Pogues tonight, and it’s all because of the sick man in front of you. Tears stream down your cheeks, you feel helpless, not only to Rafe, but to your own confusing desires.

“Crying already? I’ve barely touched you, sweetheart.” He murmurs, peeking down the hall before pulling you towards his bedroom. You try to resist, but he just yanks harder, making you wince. “I’ve missed you, little sis, we’ve got a lot of catching up to do.”

#sonny drabbles #tw stepcest #rafe cameron #stepbro rafe #rafe loving hours #rafe cameron drabble #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron x fem!reader #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron fanfic #rafe cameron au #stepbrother rafe cameron #stepbrother!rafe #stepbrother!rafe cameron #innocent reader #I am: sonny Dear

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prythianpages · 4 months

Note

in a field of dandelions, I was so ready for the y/n to say the dialogue 'Don’t talk to me like that' and I was ready for it to hurt. az saying it somehow hurt so much more

omg I didn't even think of having the reader say the dialogue! so I wrote this spin-off i guess? or au lol of y/n saying the words instead, which starts as soon as they get to her apartment. you can read below! you can find the original imagine here

The walk to your apartment is silent and you begin to wonder if you should apologize for your outburst earlier. It was not within your nature to raise your voice at anyone…or harbor anger toward someone. But Eris had tried to hurt you, hurt Azriel and then shamelessly sneered about it.

Azriel follows you into your home, watching as you set the ingredients you collected down. He expects you to bid him farewell and kick him out but as you turn to him and your gaze falls to his injured hand, you sigh.

“Come on,” you offer, reaching out for his hand and he recoils. You frown. “Does it hurt?”

“No.”

You know he’s lying by the way his jaw clenches and you can’t help but notice that he appears to be repelled by your touch. You almost laugh, even though you want to cry. “I promise I won’t curse you. I actually never cursed anyone before.”

Azriel’s expression remains unreadable.

“Just let me see. I can help you.”

“I’m fine.” He says through gritted teeth.

And as his blood drips onto your floor, you burst into tears because it’s all your fault. That arrow was aimed toward you. It was meant for you and if you hadn’t been distracted, maybe you could’ve protected Azriel. He wouldn’t have gotten hurt. He wouldn’t be trying to hide his pain.

“It’s all my fault. You’re hurt because of me,” you voice your thoughts out loud. You’re crying, wiping hastily at your tears, but they keep spilling and no matter how hard you’re trying, they’re not stopping. “I’m so, so sorry.”

Azriel’s gaze softens and is bridging the distance between you both. The sight of you crying is more painful than the injury in his hand and he hates himself for every agonizing tear of yours. He uses his uninjured hand to coax your gaze to his. He wipes your tears for you and you blink up at him, finding yourself lost in his hazel eyes. They’re a beautiful fusion of earthy browns and grassy green and they ground you like a tranquil forest kissed by sunlight.

“This,” Azriel inclines his head toward his injured hand. “It’s nothing to me. I’ve been through worse and I’d go through worse for you. I will always protect you.”

“Please,” you’re begging and you close your eyes but you still feel his gaze burning into you. “Don’t talk to me like that.”

“Why?”

“It’s cruel and heartless and you don’t even realize.” Your voice drops to a pained whisper and Azriel has never beheld anything more breaking.

He can’t do this anymore. He can’t keep hurting you. His mate.

“y/n,” he calls softly, his gloved thumb brushing against your cheek. You reluctantly open your eyes. “You’re my mate and I pushed you away because I--fuck, I don't deserve you. I thought I was doing you a favor but now I realize, I only hurt you instead. Please forgive me.”

“I know you're my mate." You confess and his breath hitches. “I’ve known since the moment I met you. I wanted to tell you right away but I didn’t want to scare you and when I was ready to tell you, you were avoiding me. I thought you hated me because–because, well, I’m a witch and not everyone is fond of them and I can’t blame–”

Azriel gently interrupts you with his lips. They’re soft and warm against your own and you’re kissing him back with a soft pressing need. You feel him smile against your lips and the butterflies in your stomach are dancing and fluttering all the way to your heart. He pulls away and rests his forehead against yours. You’re able to appreciate his smile and you’ve never seen anything more beautiful. You’re inclined to ask Feyre to paint it for you later.

“I owe you an explanation,” he breathes. “Where do I even start?”

You smile back at him. “How about we start with taking care of your hand?”

**the rest of the imagine would continue with Azriel still being hesistant to show you his hands but you accept him wholeheartedly bc who wouldn't?? <3 and it ends the same way*

#can you tell i'm so soft for them?#azriel imagines #azriel drabble #azriel x reader #azriel x y/n #azriel angst #azriel x witch!reader #az!dandelions #thank you for the ask!

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cdragons · 4 months

Text

Warmth & Stories - Aemond Targaryen x Wildling!Reader

Next Part

Summary: Love can bloom in the most unusual ways. The love between a stoic prince from the South and a wildling storyteller will be written in history as one of the strangest but truest of loves.

Author's Notes: To my very lovely and wonderful friend and beta reader Bel, aka @valeskafics, I hope you had a wonderful Christmas and New Year's! This is the first part of this fic gift I wanted to give you, and I promise the next part will have smut! I hope you like this fic and can feel my love and appreciation for you. Bel, you are one of my favorite writers of all time and a huge reason I began posting fanfics and writing in the first place. I am so grateful that you opened a whole new world for me, and I hope this year gives you lots of happiness.

Warning(s): Slight cursing, Reader's parents were killed, Daemon's an ass, Viserys is a negligent father, Westeros is Westeros, dysfunctional family shenanigans

Prince Aemond Targaryen was known to be many things. Proud. Serious. Studious. All things one should be proud of in a young man’s position. Every single one of his teachers and wet nurses sung praises of the young prince since he began to toddle. And although it might seem cruel to admit it, the second prince was the apple of the Queen’s eye and the clear favorite of her four children.

Her sweet Aemond was a mild, studious young boy who practiced his faith in the Seven despite his blood lineage belonging to the Old Gods of Valryia. Besides Aegon, he had always been respectful to his siblings–especially to his elder sister, Helaena. Aemond would often humor his sister’s strange ramblings and gift her with little creatures he found as he wandered the ancient walls of the Red Keep. Helanea, despite all her reclusiveness, only seemed comfortable enough to be touched with her younger brother and often offered comfort whenever he complained about how unfair it was that he still had no dragon. His sister was as fond of her younger brother as he was of her and would usually humor his requests.

Except now.

“Please?” Aemond had been pleading for over an hour, reaching a point where most would pity him.

“No,” replied his sister sternly, “I’ve already told you my answer won’t change.”

“But why?” he pathetically asked as his voice cracked. It was good that Aegon was still in his room, too drunk to start the day. Aemond would never have lived it down without allowing his brother to see him like this. “I won’t ask for anything else from you, I swear it.”

“No, absolutely not.”

“But why?” demanded Aemond. “I would never harm (Y/N). Name one person in the Seven Kingdoms who would treat her better than I?”

Too upset by his sister’s refusal, the prince stormed out of the room in a near-blind rage.

(Y/N) (Y/L/N) was no noblewoman or someone with any particularly wealthy connections or background. You weren’t even someone born within the Walls in the North.

No, you were from a tribe of wildings that hailed outside the Wall and were brought within the borders after your parents were caught stealing. The Starks decided to spare when they realized their daughter was just a tiny child with an incredible talent for storytelling. Within a year, the tales that Y/N wove with her tongue had reached the ears of Aemond’s father, King Viserys of House Targaryen. The King was fascinated by the young girl beyond the Wall, who spun tales of giants and spirits from the Land of Always Winter. He spared no expense in bringing you to King’s Landing.

Aemond could remember the day so clearly, as you arrived very shortly after his bastard nephew took his eye in Driftmark, and his father did nothing but protect his whore of a half-sister. When brought into the keep, you could hardly present yourself to a room full of nobles, let alone the King. You stood before his father and family barefoot and filthy. Your clothes looked closer to rags and torn cloth, and your (h/c) mane was wild with a few braids and feathers. But that hardly mattered. As soon as you opened your mouth, it was as if everyone in the Great Hall had been transported to another world.

The story you told started with a young princess given a toy soldier named the “Nussknacker.” The young princess loved her little toy soldier so much that her sweet Nussknacker came to life one night. He told the princess a prince to a winter wonderland full of fairies, sugar plums, and magic. His home had been overtaken by a maniacal Rattenkönig, and he turned the prince into his current form. The soldier and princess had to face many trials, but they were successful in defeating the evil Rattenkönig and saving the prince’s kingdom. The Nussknacker turned back into the handsome prince he had always been, and he and the princess married to lead his kingdom into prosperity.

By the time you finished telling your story, the Royal court went ablaze with applause. Your pretty words and skillful tongue enraptured every noble. They longed to hear more of your stories and were starved for entertainment. His father was in an especially jolly mood after hearing your tale. He immediately appointed you as the troubadour of the Royal Court held in protection under the Royal Targaryen House. A proclamation that horrified both the king’s Hand and the Queen, to say the least. It was no secret that Aemond’s mother and grandfather did not look favorably on you. More than once, he heard his mother seethe in anger at the attention her husband gave to you as you sat beside him during his father’s pain flares. In her eyes, you were a savage hellion who likely spread her legs up from the Wall in the North to the Great Hall of the Red Keep in the South.

But in Aemond’s eyes, you were an angel. It was not only his father’s pain you soothed with your stories, but also his own. He tried his best to keep his distance from you, but it wasn’t long until you gained his sister’s favor. From then on, whenever he spotted Helaena, you were by her side. The tall and icy walls he tried to maintain around you came crashing down before he knew it. His mother so loved him because he always did as she instructed, including to remain far away from the new child from beyond the North.

But one night, the scar on his eye had been so painful that he gained a fever that lasted for nearly a week. The maesters weren’t sure if he would survive the sickness, as it was a result of his lost eye being inflamed. His mother had resigned herself to crying by his bedside while his sister would sit with him and talk about her day. But one night, when he was delirious with pain, you somehow managed to sneak in from one of the secret tunnels within the keep’s walls. He couldn’t see you, but he recognized your voice. He wanted to scream for you to leave his room, threatening that he would call over the guards standing outside. But then you spoke, and it seemed as if his world of pain had just washed away. You spoke to him about the history of Old Valyria and the beautiful tales of dragons and knights that were lost in time. This continued on every night during his ailment.

“Do you miss your parents?” Aemond asked you one night. But he immediately regretted his question when he saw how your shoulders tensed.

“Sometimes,” you replied after a few moments of silence, “I understand that they are in a better place, wherever they are. But sometimes I wish they were here so I wouldn’t be alone.”

“But you have Helaena to be with you. Even my father adores your company.”

You only scoffed in response.

“Helaena is wonderful,” you bitterly continued, “I am glad to have a friend as sweet and kind as her in this poisonous hellhole you call home. But your father-” you paused a moment to lick your lips to figure out how to phrase your thoughts – “all he sees me as is a toy. A commodity. A funny little object that he bought to entertain him. He never mistreated me but does not respect me as a person, let alone as a subject.”

The tears in your eyes welled to the point where they almost spilled, and you immediately stopped talking to prevent further incriminating yourself.

“You have no idea what it’s like-” you let out a bitter laugh before continuing to cry – “to have your family taken away from you. To watch your parents be executed before your eyes when you were only a small child. And for what? Stealing a loaf of stale bread? What should that matter to the Starks? They have their pretty castle with warm fires and fur blankets. My mother and father worked for everything they had in order to care for me. Now here I am, away from the silver winter I called home and stuck in the shit-odor that covers precious South.”

“However much you hate your family, at least you still have them. I have no one. No one to share my culture and past with, no one to understand your customs and way of life. Call my parents whatever you want. Savages. Thieves. Scum. But they loved me. However little it was, they taught me to be proud of myself. They were my whole life, and now they’re gone.”

You ran out of his chambers and back into the wall. Aemond didn’t see you for several days, even after his fever broke and the maesters told his mother he would live. Two weeks passed, and Aemond felt as if he were going mad. When he finally spotted you in one of the more secluded areas of the library, he grabbed your arm before you could scurry off.

“Tell me,” he told you. “Tell me everything about your parents, your home. Tell me about how the air was clean and clear. Tell me about how everywhere you looked, you saw white snow and clear ice. Tell me how much you loved your family, pets, friends – if you had any. I don’t care what it is. Tell me everything.”

At first, you only stared. He couldn’t tell if you were furious or in shock. But soon, your eyes lit up as if you had been given five hundred gold dragons.

“Where do you want me to start?” you asked him, eyes wide with joy and a heart finally learning to trust.

Lo and behold, he found his heart beginning to feel the same.

“Wherever you want.”

The smile you gave him was worth more than all the money locked within the Royal Treasury.

So many nights since that day, you would sit by his bedside, speaking so prettily that even the most brutal of their acts and customs fascinated Aemond. You would burn the midnight oil, telling him about the adventures and raids of the Free People beyond the Wall. That’s how you referred to yourself as a “free woman.” While you despised the title “savage,” you did not mind being labeled as “wilding.” You claimed that since you were born outside the Wall, the laws of Westeros did not apply to you. You have been seen as wild, but you knew in your heart that you were born free. And what was more impressive to Aemond was how you honestly and sincerely believed that you were born as a free woman.

He saw it in the way you would make little shadow puppets shows to bring a smile from Daeron after it was announced that he would leave for Oldtown.

He heard it in how you got the cooks to spit on your name after stealing bread from kitchens and then giving it to the small folk children living in impoverished areas of Flea Bottom.

He smelt it in how your hair would always smell like the wind in the Godswood to ride his horse when you were supposed to be learning your letters with the Head Septa.

He tasted it when you let him take a sip of that rotten ale you made in secret when you went through one of your horrible bouts of homesickness.

He felt it in how you raced to his chambers to hug him after he woke up from another nightmare of the memory of that night when he lost his right eye.

You were the strangest mystery Aemond had ever and will ever know. No matter how long he spent searching for answers in his favorite corner of the library, Aemond could never understand how someone with a heart as warm as (Y/N) could come from the frozen wasteland she loved to call home.

With a single but powerful stroke of his blade, Lord Vaemond Velaryon’s upper jaw fell as the rest of his body dropped to the floor. Visenya’s Dark Sister had once more bathed in its victim’s blood. Gasps and shrieks filled the Great Hall at the sight of dark blood oozing from his corpse. The members of the Royal members all had varying reactions. From his mother’s side, Helaena immediately covered her eyes and turned away – utterly horrified by the swift mutilation. Aegon grimaced but was otherwise unaffected. Not surprising. He’d seen similar carnage from the illegal fight rings run in Flea Bottom. Aemond took a slight step back in shock as he gaped at the now-deceased lord in mild admiration.

He had no idea tongues were so long.

Prince Daemon Targaryen stood before his ailing brother, tall and proud. There was not a twinge of remorse or regret on his youthful visage as he towered over the spilled blood soaking his boots. Undoubtedly, this man carried the blood and fire of the proud dragons that graced their house.

“He can keep his tongue.”

Brutish as Daemon was known to be, Aemond respected his uncle’s instinct to remove objects that voiced slander against his wife. However much of a whore his half-sister may be, she was still of royal blood and their father’s firstborn.

However, he wasn’t sure how much that last fact mattered, considering how she spread her legs to swill only to produce bastards as her heirs.

His grandfather ordered the Kingsguards to disarm his uncle, but Daemon only scoffed as he wiped the blood off his ancient blade with an old rag. Moments later, Aemond’s decaying father collapsed on the Iron Throne in exhaustion after over-exerting himself. His mother immediately rushed over to aid him when she heard his pained groans.

“Call the Maesters!” she shouted before reaching him. And when his father fell into her arms, that was the first time Aemond saw you throughout this entire proceeding.

You stood close to the walls, remaining present but unseen. It was not until his father called for you by his side that he removed you from your hiding place. You and an apprentice Maester took Viserys to his chambers, leaving behind his wife, children, grandchildren, and every member of the Royal Court. As Aemond watched you carry his hobbling sire to his chambers – likely to recite to him a passage of the History of Old Valyria or one of the many tales surrounding Queen Visenya’s practice of the dark arts – his blood froze as he noticed Daemon’s gaze was focused not on his brother, but on you.

An hour had passed since Lord Vaemond Velaryon’s unfortunate passing, and Aemond was still no closer to finding you. He felt as if he was going mad in desperation. He checked everywhere. The kitchens, catching you sneak bites of freshly baked honey cakes. The stables, to find you feeding the mares and stallions carrots and apples. Your chambers, spying through the keyhole as you sat at your desk writing new stories. He even went so far as to ride to the dragonpit, hoping that you were reading to Vhagar again. He was close to announcing an order to search for you to the closest Kingsguard when he spotted you standing underneath the Heartstree. When another figure approached you, the one-eyed prince was about to call out your name.

Daemon. And judging by the way his violet eyes leered at your womanly form, it was clear to Aemond that this meeting was no coincidence. Aemond stepped out of view and pressed himself close to the garden’s entrance. The silver-tressed prince cursed himself for not publicly claiming you so everyone knew you were his and his alone. Differences in stations mattered little when you grew up so beautifully.

A fact he was sure that did not go unnoticed by his uncle despite meeting you for the first time.

Not for the first time did Aemond find himself cursing the gods for creating perfection in a single woman. Time had been unkind to many but seemed to spare you of any misfortune. While you were far from the polished and perfect image of a proper lady, you slowly but surely assimilated yourself to life in the South of the Wall. You traded your hides and furs for dresses and trousers. Your wild (h/c) mane became untangled by his sister’s ladies-in-waiting frequent brushings. Regular meals and proper care took a starving child with sharp, bony jabs to a woman with soft, feminine curves and beauty rivaling the Maiden herself.

“How have you found your time so far from the wall, little wilding?”

“I spent every waking second soaked and flushed from sweat and heat. To make it worse, I can’t escape the shit and piss that stains and bathes your pretty keep. Tell me, does that answer your question, my prince?”

Daemon barked a short laugh, amused that his brother took in someone so clearly different from the court’s usual vultures.

“When I heard my brother had taken in a little girl from outside the wall as his little entertainer, I was expecting a hobbled cripple caked in dirt with no sign of grooming. But here you stand, appearing more like a proper lady than a savage wildling.”

“You can take the girl from the North, but you can never take the North from the girl.”

No truer words had ever been spoken.

Aemond smiled at your quick wit and tongue. You were still every bit of the girl dragged before his father when he was only ten name-days old, even if you changed a little bit.

You still styled your hair with the little braids commonly worn in the North, but sometimes, he would catch Helaena tucking feathers in your locks.

You still carried your father’s old hunting knife on your person, but you also kept the Valyrian steel dagger Aemond gave you on Yuletide Eve from three years past.

You still made frequent trips to pass the bread to the small folk in Flea Bottom; you always made sure to help lead Aegon back to his bed after he drank himself stupidly.

It was a challenge, but you’ve adapted and made a life here with the Royal Family, whether you liked it or not.

“Do you ever plan on coming out from behind the wall, my prince? Or do you plan on renouncing your title and becoming Master of Whispers on your father’s small council?”

Realizing that his cover has been blown, Aemond brought himself in view to face the wildling girl who had stolen his heart almost eight years ago. He was relieved that his uncle had left the gardens, probably to inseminate his half-sister once more. It was as if she needed more children to convince all of King’s Landing that her claim on his brother’s throne was legitimate and valid. It did not matter that the evidence of her whorish nature was growing before their eyes.

“Careful, my lady,” replied Aemond, “one might think your words as treason towards the prince.”

“Please,” you scoffed, “the only people who continue to insist on taming my tongue are your mother and grandfather. And we both know my opinions of both parties.” Your cheeks began to flush, and your demeanor grew shy as you whispered your following words. “Besides, why would I need to be afraid of anything when I have you?”

Oh, how his cold, bitter heart grew ten times warmer with your sweet words. He removed his black riding gloves, reached for your hands, and was taken aback by how cold your skin felt against his own.

As if afraid of his voice, he cradled your hands softly as if he were the hunter and you were a little snow rabbit on the edge of running away. Your unblinking observation persisted as you silently watched your silver-haired prince raised both of your hands to his pink lips. He took in a deep breath before exhaling out. The heat of his breath against your fingers sent chills down your back. His mouth was opened just enough for you to see his tongue, bringing a deep sense of shame to wash over you as you dreamed of how good it would feel to have his tongue feast on your cunt.

“What possessed you to come outside without a cloak?” The low timbres of his voice broke you from your lust as you just now realized that you brought yourself into his trap. “It is already winter (Y/n). You could grow sick if you are not careful.”

“You forget yourself, Aemond,” you replied, tearing your hands from his grip. You almost wept at how profoundly you felt the loss of his warmth. When did his hands become so rough and big? “I have the true North in my veins. Such meek and pitiful clouds and winds could never get me ill.”

“Why were you outside at all?” Aemond had hoped to find you in one of the rooms with a fire roaring inside. Even if you were not alone, you would have been warm.

“Thinking about home, I suppose. I was tiny, but I would help gather whatever wood was available and put it in a big pile. We would put on our ceremonial furs and robes, along with masks we painted from the skulls of our kills. After that, the adults would drink themselves stupid on ale and heated yak’s milk as they and the children would gather around the wood pile and then burn it. I remember dancing with my parents around the fire as we sang praises for the old gods and yelled out prayers for the sun. A few boys would probably try to sneak some kisses from the girls with mistletoe.”

The silence that followed only added to the tension.

“I think I would have been stolen by now.”

“Stolen?”

“Your Southerners version of ‘marriage,’ I suppose,” you stated as you lightly shrugged, “at my age, if you weren’t stolen, it meant that something was wrong with you. If I remained with my tribe, some man would have stolen me by now and pumped me full of his babies.”

Aemond saw red. He clenched his fists so hard that his knuckles further paled to an almost translucent view of his veins as he imagined some savage, wildling man forcing himself on you. He wanted to ride Vhaghar beyond the North, if only reaching beyond the Wall and burning it all to the ground. No man other than him was allowed to touch you. He had only touched your hand and already decided that the rest of you belonged to him and him alone.

Taking a few steps closer to you, he removed his leather patch and lifted your chin between his fingers to force your focus on him. His ears caught a slight intake of breath when you saw his sapphire eye as he was so close that he could practically feel your heart racing in anticipation. He preened in satisfaction when he caught your perfect (e/c) irises dart down to his lips before resting his face again. Aemond didn’t need to look down to know that you were clenching your thighs in an attempt to stop your arousal from leaking.

His sister’s approval be damned.

If your traditions dictated that you must be ‘stolen’ to be a wife, then he would be the one to steal you.

“Sweet (Y/n), you’ve grown so cold.”

Do you wish to go back?

His face was so close to yours that you could feel breaths mix with your own. You could smell the fine leather of his tunic, and the fragrance of spices from his silvery locks wrapped you in a blanket of comfort. His violet eye’s gaze showed a vulnerability lost since that night in Driftmark. The night when he gained a dragon at the cost of becoming a cripple. If Aemond was to risk everything he’s worked for, he had to know.

Would you, a Free Woman, let yourself be called as his?

“No, my Aemond” - you took his hands in yours to tenderly kiss his knuckles- “not anymore.”

I am right where I belong.

And he believed you.

Tagging: @valeskafics, @dreaming-for-an-escape, @arcielee, @asa-do-your-thing, @lady-ashfade , @faesspace, @its-actually-minicika, @aphroditesmoon, @bellamys-girl1, @immyowndefender, @xxlovingfandomsxx, @elinedjarin, @meg-egg-blog, @marvelescape, @mandiiblanche, @lokiofasgard12, @boxedpandas, @anewpersonthatexists, @toodlesxcuddles, @leavemeoutofitlay

#aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x reader #aemond x you #aemond targaryen #hotd x reader #got x reader #ewan mitchell #ewan nation #aemond targaryen fanfic #aemond targaryen fluff #hotd fanfic #hotd fandom

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jtl-fics · 1 year

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Fluent Freshman - Part 06

Andrew is dragging FF across campus towards where he parked his car and he is kinda of concerned that FF is just like fully letting himself be dragged across campus. I’m talking full on Andrew has a grip on the back of his hoodie, FF is just staring up at the sky, FF’s feet don’t even attempt to stop Andrew from pulling him where he wants to go, and when Andrew looks back FF’s face is just :I

Which even Andrew can admit is kind of weird.

Meanwhile FF is just like ‘The ground hasn’t really gotten cold yet so I’m sure Captain Neil and Andrew could really go to town on the hole they’re going to bury me in. I wonder what gave me away? It was probably the fucking Russian Literature book. I didn’t even like the plot twist in that one anyways. Can’t BELIEVE I’m gonna die due to my love of trashy literature. Thanks Grandma. Wait I’m sorry grandma, I didn’t mean to be rude-“

“Hey Granny Smith! I’ve been looking for you!” A most loathed nickname coming from a most loathed voice. Andrew doesn’t stop towing FF because why the hell would he? FF has never been so grateful to be dragged to his death! Now if only Andrew would break his long standing and well-known absolute refusal to do anything more than walk at a brisk pace.

He sees his step-brother jogging up to him and FF almost turns to Andrew to ask if he could just kill him HERE so he doesn’t have to deal with his step-brother and THEN get stabbed to death in the forest? He can accept that he should have told Andrew and Captain Neil that he knows Russian and the death sentence that rightfully comes with that but like C’MON having to deal with his Step-brother is just cruel and unusual punishment!

His step brother catches up and in a way maybe all the mental torture he’s gone through since coming to Palmetto is a good thing! He really was a novice at the poker face before and now he’s a grand master champion of staring at something that’s gonna SUCK and pretending like he has no idea that it is.

“Whoa there Granny.” His Step brother grabs his arm and tugs him out of Andrew’s grasp. Andrew really had not been paying attention to whatever jack off had been yelling something about apples. So FF getting yanked out of his hand was actually his first indication since FF didn’t say or react at all before. “You’ve been dodging all of Dad’s calls y’know. You still haven’t sent anything that we asked you for, got any excuse for that?!” His step brother demands.

FF looks heavenward because this is, like, so embarrassing. He can feel people stopping and staring at them.

(They were staring before his Step-brother showed up because he was getting visibly dragged through campus by ANDREW MINYARD. Some of his friends who had seen it were already planning a memorial service and candle vigil)

“Nope.” Because he has nothing to say about whatever the hell his step brother is talking about.

“Mom’s heartbroken you know! You haven’t reached out to her once!” he says.

“I’ll get on that.”

“Are you going to get the stuff we asked you for?! We are family aren’t we? We’re not asking for a lot. Just for you to get tickets to your games for Dad’s colleagues, some autographs from your teammates, and a good word to that bleeding heart coach that we all should get the free ride you’re getting. That’s not too much right?!”

Andrew hasn’t intervened yet but now Andrew is under the impression that FF stopped hanging out because the kid’s family has been harassing him with calls and maybe this isn’t the first time they’ve come in person to campus. That’s why FF has been fading into the background. Andrew’s now under the impression that FF’s family has wanted him to use the Foxes (tickets, autographs, scholarships for his step brothers) and FF had just been pulling away so his asshole family wouldn’t bother the rest of them. That FF may not have been able to cut off contact completely because of a grandparent he was close to.

These are, in fact, the WRONG impressions of the situation at hand. The truth of the matter is that Wymack helped him get a new phone and phone number within 24 hours of getting to Palmetto, it was the one extra that he asked for in his contract and Palmetto is paying his phone bill now. The phone with the number his ‘family’ had just sits charging in a drawer on silent in Wymack’s desk because Wymack is INFINITELY petty when it comes to the things his Foxes are running from.

The other truth of the situation at hand is that Fluent Freshman’s grandma is the only member of his family he talks to regularly and he talks to her almost every single day of his life, she is the only person he can be completely honest with because she knows what a wimp he is and loves him regardless.

His Grandma is just an EXCELLENT actress. So when his ‘family’ comes over for answers she’ll sigh, stare longingly at a framed photo of FF, and look out the window with a single pre-staged tear in her eye. She wouldn’t give them his new number no matter what.

He loves his grandma even if it was her teaching him Polish, her native tongue, that lead to him getting interested in the other slavic languages that lead him down the deadly path to Russian.

ANYWAYS.

Andrew is under some very wrong impressions but he is also under one very correct impression and it’s the impression that’s the most important anyways.

Fluent Freshman’s family is what made him a Fox and Fluent Freshman’s family are therefore the enemy.

Except FF doesn’t give Andrew the time to pull out his knife, “No, I don’t wanna do that. Bye Greg.” He says, pulls out his student ID, slaps it on a nearby scanner for a STUDENT ONLY building and power walks inside leaving Andrew and his Step Brother alone.

The door shuts behind FF with a distinctive lock and Greg looks at Andrew his face purpling from anger, “You’re going to let me in there and-“

Andrew now has plenty of time to pull out his knife. “You’re going to what?”

Greg swallows and in a show of excellent survival instincts runs the fuck away.

Andrew watches him run before he turns back to the STUDENT ONLY building and heads in himself. He finds FF just inside the doors and he looks tired sitting there against the wall. FF doesn’t say anything to Andrew, doesn’t even acknowledge that he’s there. Andrew takes a spot on the wall across from him. People give them weird looks but Andrew is fine with waiting.

He doesn’t mind just sitting in silence with FF again even if the circumstances aren’t what they usually are. So they sit.

FF has blue-screened. The stress of his impending death, of his step brother showing up and saying crazy shit, he blacked out a bit from the stress of being between Andrew and Greg and has no memory of what he said before he walked into this building and then there’s the fact that he just WALKED INTO SOME RANDOM CAMPUS BUILDING (oh god he’s probably not supposed to be in here but Greg is definitely still loitering outside maybe security will be gentle if he just sits right by the exit so they don’t have to go far to kick him out? Maybe he should move near a Different exit so Greg doesn’t see him get tossed like yesterday’s trash? Well he already sat down so now it’s embarrassing if he gets up to just go SIT AT SOME OTHER EXIT.)

So he’s taking a moment to reboot.

Unfortunately his ability to have internal conversations and recognize that someone is there with him is one of the last things that loads.

“It’s fine. I’ve always been the leftover kid. I don’t care that they don’t care. I don’t care either.” He says and it’s a mantra he’s repeated for almost a decade now.

It is definitely not something he thought he was saying out loud in the presence of Andrew Minyard and it is also definitely not something he was SAYING to Andrew Minyard but how the hell would ANDREW MINYARD KNOW THAT WHEN FF IS STARING STRAIGHT AT HIM WHEN HE SAYS IT.

So Andrew thinks it’s the explanation FF is offering about his step brother / family. If there’s one thing Andrew knows the feeling of it is being the ‘leftover’ kid.

The one-sided kinship grows while FF is working on rebooting his vision and getting his heart rate down to a BPM that wouldn’t have medical doctors concerned.

Finally, FF blinks his vision has returned back to him, sees Andrew Minyard across the hall from him, and, by the grace of GOD considering his fried nerves, FF does not flinch.

Andrew doesn’t make any move to grab him and FF decides to take this momentary reprieve that his executor is granting him to shoot off a text to his grandma. “I am so grateful for all the love you have given me throughout my life. I think I’m going to see Dad in the next few hours so please let me know if there’s anything you want me to say to him.” Is what he sends.

(This grandma has gotten almost this exact same text when he had an oral presentation last week. Her grandson is a wimp but she loves him.)

“Are we still going on that drive?” He asks his affairs settled. It’s nice that Andrew let him have a breakdown here and even let him text his grandma his final thoughts. He was willing to use his blood to write out the message but where would he get the paper?

“Yeah, we can go on that drive.” Andrew gets up and offers his hand to FF who looks at it for a long moment KNIVES. THOSE ARE KNIVES. HE USUALLY CONCEALS THEM BETTER? IS THIS HIS WAY OF SAYING HE’S GOING TO BE REALLY MESSY WITH MY DEATH? OH GOD HE’S NOT READY.

(Andrew didn’t really take the time to put his knives back in his arm bands properly because he figured he needed to catch FF before the kid disappeared again. He didn’t think he’d find him just inside the door.)

FF pushes himself up onto his feet.

They get to the Maserati and FF was AWARE that Andrew had a nice car but he hadn’t pieced it together that he’d be doing his last ride in such a nice car. He briefly pauses by the trunk wondering if he should just save Andrew the trouble and climb in himself?

Andrew sees FF pause at the car and figures he’s just being polite not touching Andrew’s stuff without Andrew’s permission. FF is just that kind of guy.

“The passenger seat is available.” Andrew says and alright cool Andrew wants to threaten him first that makes sense.

Except Andrew doesn’t say anything. Doesn’t drive them to a remote location. He’s just driving around Palmetto and FF does not think that Andrew is planning on crashing the car to kill him (He has unfortunately heard Aaron and Andrew have a fight in German when he was waiting for his own appointment with Betsy so he also Is aware what happened to their mom no matter HOW HARD he tries to forget that he knows.)

It’s just actually kind of a nice drive?

“He called you Granny Smith.” Andrew states. (Wondering if THAT is the elusive first name)

“I’m close with my Grandma. My last name is Smith. They’re not that creative.”

“Hm.” (Dammit)

Andrew watches as FF’s shoulders eventually relax until he’s almost falling asleep in the Mas and decides that the drive has done it’s job.

Eventually Andrew parks in front of the tower, tells him to respond to his texts from at least him and Neil, and he is released feeling very much like one of those animals that were released back into the wild after being tagged.

He texts his grandma later “NVM it wasn’t that bad.”

Per your requests:

@i-have-three-feelings @blep-23 @dreamerking27

#Fluent Freshman AU #Andrew to Neil later: His Family was the issue.#Neil: So it's not something we did?#Andrew: No. He wanted to take a ride with me #Neil: Oh that's great.#Nicky sitting back watching this unfold: It's like a Daytime Soap Opera except I get to be one of the characters.#AFTG #AFTG AU #Andreil #AFTG OC #AFTG fic #My Fics #FF - Pt. 06

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qqtxt · 9 months

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[🌸] a star in my eyes w/ txt

✿ pairing: ot5 x reader / silly, cheesy 🌸🧀 / idol!txt / non.idol!you /minor cursing (none with ill-intention!) / mentions of extreme measures in a light-hearted manner... (don’t call me out on my coping mechanism) ✿ mini-fics with each member for the same situation / less than 500 words for each member / altogether, word count: 2,131 words ✿ regardless of how you feel (good or bad), you’ll always appear to be a star in their eyes (as cheesy as that sounds...) ✿ note: i’ve submitted my submissions for my master’s!!! so i’ll be more active now, hehe! ✨ [masterlist 🌸] / other members under the cut! / @kflixnet ⭐️

there are days where you take the toughest days god throws at you like a champ. an absolute champ. to the point where even the most difficult of obstacles or mishaps can’t bring you down... but... some days, the smallest of inconveniences makes you want to wallow in the pit of self-pity until the world swallows you as a whole. you’d gladly welcome the black hole to gulp you in and allow the teeth to sink into your heels to bring you to the unknown. that resembles itself in the form of you face-planting deep into the pillows, arms spread out wide and willing for the earth to open up and...

[🐰] soobin soobin tries not to laugh at the sight even though it’s endearing to the core. when he coos your name softly, you barely move, only groaning back a let me die... soobin makes himself known when the bed beside you dips down and you feel a hand rubbing your lower back in gentle pats. “augh, and let me suffer living alone? no chance. if i’m alive, you have to be alive,” he taunts, almost effectively granting the view of your side profile when you turn the cheek, blowing part of your hair away from your face to blow a raspberry at him. he snorts and reaches out with his other hand, brushing the hair back as he looks at you with the concern in his eyes that sparks through even if he’s trying not to show it.

“hit a wall?” he asks, calmly.

“metaphorically? yes. physically? i’m about to.”

the way he laughs could be viewed as cruel, but he just enjoys your humour that it makes you laugh in return even though you had absolutely nothing to laugh about in the first place.

“laughing at my misery? asshole.”

“i’m not laughing at you, i’m laughing with you.”

“...”

“...if i buy you ice cream, will that cleanse me of my sins?”

“...get me the double scoop with the waffle and you’re cleansed for the week.”

“deal. get over here,” he stands up and extends his hands out to you, wiggling his fingers (as if he has to entice you–he is). with a sigh, you roll over and soobin grabs ahold of your hands to tug you to your feet. you nearly bump into him but he catches you with ease, dimples appearing the wider he smiles at you and that alone melts you on sight. well, nothing like a sweet treat with a sweet treat couldn’t hurt.

[🦊] yeonjun yeonjun intended to be more... discrete with his approach but he finds that he can’t when he bellows your name as he steps through the door. when he sees that you remain unmoving, laying flat on the bed with your face-deep into the pillows, you hear him huffing as he storms over, door left ajar as the bed dips down as a signal he’s sitting right by your side. he taps your bum, his voice soon follows: “yah,” he whines, “not even going to turn to face me?”

“just let me be miserable alone,” you groan, voice muffled into the sheets. you hear him letting out a sigh before he starts to chuckle. with light ruffles you feel against you and the bed dipping even more, you now notice he’s squeezed his way through to lay down next to you. despite you buried face deep into the pillow and mattress, yeonjun’s arms are slyly making their way beneath your stomach so he can curl against you.

“i can’t even be miserable on my own?” you mumble, finally turning the cheek to see the way his eyes sparkle at you with a grin. he wordlessly shakes his head, fringe brushing over his eyebrows that accompanies the handsome, cheshire smile that lines his lips. the words already echo in your mind without him needing to say it: i’m gonna be here with you regardless.

knowing you can’t push him away, you let out a deep sigh before you turn your body to cuddle into him. might as well give in if you can’t get rid of it. your hands are pressed to his chest but you’re able to snuggle your face into his neck as he cocoons you in.

soon, he feels the way your breath evens out from deep breaths to shorter, calmer ones with your eyelids fluttering shut. he continues his ministrations of keeping an arm around your waist while the other reaches up to stroke your head, down to your arm and over and over again until he lulls himself to join you to sleep. (ah, a small nap to recharge couldn’t hurt.) ((yeonjun’s most certainly not complaining...))

[🐯] beomgyu beomgyu does what beomgyu does best and it’s–”if you’re gonna kill me, at least make it quick and painless!” your voice is muffled, but mostly because beomgyu’s laying on top of you has effectively rendered you breathless. nearly compressing your lungs until all air is pushed out completely. his hearty laugh is almost enough to make you die happily but it’s not with the way his weight is close to knocking you unconscious.

“augh, can’t have that,” he snickers, sliding to the side and effectively clinging onto you before you can start kicking at his direction. his arms manage to sneak around your body, pulling you flush to his chest as he positions his face as close to your as possible; merely inches apart when you turn your cheek to face him with a huff. “i can’t let you leave me all alone in this big, scary, crazy world.”

“funny how you just described yourself in three words,” you mutter under your breath, using a hand to messily reach out to punch his thigh. he feigns pain with a choked breath but quickly recovers with his gummy grin; eyes crinkling to a smile that somehow... eases whatever misery that’s making you... you know, miserable.

“what’s bothering my golden nugget today?” he asks, in a voice that somehow eases the nerves chewing you up. it makes you rest in his hold and scooting a bit closer to close your eyes, getting a bit of a breather before you respond with: “life... life’s bothering me. just don’t wanna do life right now.”

“then don’t do it,” he states simply. in the kind of voice that makes you curiously raise a brow at him. before you can even ask, he snuggles closer to you with a small grin, “just be you, here with me. we can do everything else except life.”

“you know that makes absolutely no sense, right?”

“yeah, but sometimes life doesn’t have to make sense.”

“...”

“...so, shall we go for boba? clear your mind a little? have a walk?”

when you don’t answer, eyes moving to stare at a spot at his shoulder then back to his eyes, it’s the way his eyes soften at the way you quietly submit. he leans forward with his lips brushing along your cheek for a quick kiss before he nudges you to–”c’mon, up up up! let’s go!” (on a day that got difficult to get through life, beomgyu made it so effortlessly to guide you along the waves, hand-in-hand–with the other holding onto yeonjun’s card)

[🐿] taehyun taehyun didn’t intend to laugh but he just couldn’t help himself when he pushes the bedroom door, seeing how you’ve successfully buried yourself in the fluff blanket, hair askew, arms lifelessly laying by your sides. you know you’re not alone when you feel the bed dipping down, along with an arm along your back. you turn the cheek towards the door, noticing its left slightly ajar but no one is there. it makes you frown and turn the other way, noticing a pair of eyes that’s awfully close to you with a pearly grin.

“what’re you doing?” you huff, noticing that he’s mimicking your position by face planting his face to the mattress but he has his face turned to face you directly. he shrugs and uses his eyes to point at you, “following you,”

“i don’t even know what i’m doing,” you mumble under your breath, eyes trailing down to the small space between your bodies, staring at the bedsheet. if you had been looking at taehyun, you’d notice the way his features soften as he shifts closer towards you with a small frown. but you weren’t. all you could do is feel his aura near you and it’s the way his calm nature soothes over your nerves like a welcoming blanket.

“you don’t have to know what you’re doing all the time,” his voice enters your ears, like a gentle reminder; a soft kiss to your eardrums. and an actual kiss you feel by the side of your head when you notice he’s crawled into your bubble of self-pity.

you sigh and lean into his embrace, feeling the way he moves his body to invite you in. it makes your heart swell, warming in his hold with how he turns you a little so you can slot your face in his neck. his arms come around you to cocoon you in, his chin tucked atop of your head to keep you close, just staying like that as he strokes the back of your head as you cuddle into him and part of his cheek leaning against you.

“what if i don’t figure out what i’m doing?” you mutter against his chest, arms giving him a small squeeze. he doesn’t need to look at you to know you’re feeling anxious. he continues his ministrations of distracting you (it was working at least) and plants another kiss to the side of your head before responding with: “then we can figure it out together.” (and though you know that it really means that taehyun would be by your side as you figure out what you wanted, knowing he would be by your side made things feel a bit lighter)

[🐧] kai kai thought it was funny, initially, anyways. with the way he can only see your back with the way you’ve plummeted yourself into the sheets makes him giggle as he pushes the door wider to step through but the lack of acknowledgement that he’s here with you, half-pokes at his mind if you’re still alive.

“earth to y/n, are you there?” he sits down on the bed by your side, with the little space that’s available due to your body being sprawled out like a starfish but kai always make do to be close to you.

“hey,” he huffs, using a hand to tap your bum, “are you ignoring me?”

“just–”your voice quips back with a sharp intake of air-”leave me alone to die,” you groan with your voice muffled by the pillow beneath you. if you had been looking at him, you would’ve seen how he begins to pout and actually considers if he should leave you alone to have some space. but when he plans to get up and exit the bedroom, he can’t physically do that so instead, he decides to...

at the sounds and shuffles around the bedroom, you can tell kai hasn’t left you to your demise. it makes you curious, so you at least turn the cheek on both sides to see how he’s not anywhere beside you. it takes all the strength in you to flip around and sit up, now noticing how dim the room has gotten, left with the gentle flickers of ember before the scent of sandalwood and mandarin sifts into the air. you’ve caught the culprit redhanded when you see he was setting up something to play on the laptop (presumably a comfort re-run show you both enjoy) and you notice the packet of snack by the lit candle.

“oh,” he chuckles awkwardly, “i was gonna pull you out of the blackhole when i was done setting things up–”

“kai,”

“–and–hm?” he stops his tracks, train of thought halting with the tilt of his head when you call his name to cut him off. kai visibly stiffens but everything melts away when you stretch your arms out with your legs folded on the bed, a wordless cry of hold me.

he ditches everything he was intending to do and comes right to you. he may or may not have tackled you down onto the bed to hug you properly with a couple of oofs! and sorry! here and there interlacing with each other but... it was perfect. kai watches as your eyes flutter shut, curling into him, breath fanning his neck with your arms meekly around his waist. it was cheesy, but thank goodness no one can hear his thoughts when he’d rather be watching this than the show he had intended to play for the both of you.

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kkaleidos · 11 months

Text

as fate, not coincidence

assigning them a selection of romance quotes that make me want to rip my hair out

featuring. ayato, childe, cyno, xiao ( separate )

notes. sfw, reader’s gender is not really specified ? written in lowercase, not proofread ( my apologies )

— admin sunny 🪼

KAMISATO AYATO.

“it could never be a mistake to love you. loving you is a privilege. an honor i don't take lightly, and i want to keep on loving you every single day, for the rest of my days.” — so that happened; katie bailey

a quiet promise under the moonlight. he gently holds onto the tips of your fingers, forehead brushing against your own as the light bathes you in sterling silver. there is something different about him when you are away from the eyes of the public, his shoulders are lax, his eyes soften. it’s a look that is reserved only for you, fluttering under the hours of midnight as you press gentle kisses against the corners of his lip.

sometimes, he feels like a comet pulled into your orbit. the warmth of your touch melts away the formal coating of his exterior, and he would let you pull the heart right out of his chest if only you wanted to. but you don’t, instead you kiss him like he is made of fine porcelain. and in turn, he holds you with all the care in the world, as if you hold the entire universe in the palms of your hands.

if only he had the power, he would bring you the stars and trace the lines of every constellation that reminded him of you into the hold of your gravity.

and when the sky finally clears and the world finally fades to a low hum, ayato is there to finally let the gears in his head stop turning. and only with you does he finally let his heart pulse instead.

CHILDE.

“i can’t say that i understand love, or that i’m very good at it, because i’ve never loved anyone before. but i love everything about you. everything. i don’t intend to stop loving you, and i hope that somewhere deep inside, you still love me, too.” — finale; stephanie garber

it’s as if the earth has fractured beneath his feet. childe is not clueless, and maybe, he understood the risks from the very beginning. he’s surrounded by waves, stranded on an iceberg lost at sea as they crash and roar like the storms of inazuma.

and so, he draws back, removing himself from your life. or so he tries — retracting his hands when he feels himself reaching out to you, turning his eyes away when you meet his gaze, pulling back when he’s aware of just how close he is to you.

it doesn’t work, of course it doesn’t. because he could never truly stay away from you. sometimes, he thinks the world is playing a cruel trick on him. you, who continued to stay by his side even through his questionable work, even through the past deceit and wall of lies. how could someone like you, someone who was nothing but good, someone who was beloved by everyone. what could someone like you possibly see in him?

you berate him as soon as that question escapes his lips. he says it like it’s a joke, but you know —you always do. he’s the one you chose, the only one you want. and when you finally pull him in for one last embrace, when the waves finally wash over him, ajax finds himself finally able to breathe.

CYNO.

“i’ve loved you all my life. you’re the love i chose. out of everyone in the world, out of everyone i’ve ever known, i chose you. at the edge of everything, love and faith have always brought me back, and back to you.” — queen of air and darkness; cassandra clare

an undying loyalty during the last breath of summer. the foliage of sumeru city never loses its color, vibrant and green throughout the four seasons.

cyno is a busy man, he is always in and out of the rainforest — traversing across the desert sand and discarded temples. but he always returns, like the promise of winter, like a blossoming camellia under the warmth of spring.

the people of sumeru never dream. a fact that has been true for years and on. but sometimes, when he is away from home, when he closes his eyes for just a second — he sees you standing there with a warm eyes and a smile that glows in the sunset.

you’re waiting for him, you always are. and cyno doesn’t waste a single second, running straight towards you and pulling you into a tight embrace. your laughter echoes through his ears, the most vibrant smile flashes your way. and when he wakes in the middle of the night, you’re still there beside him — as if he’d never left at all.

the people of sumeru never dream. he knows that from the very bottom of his heart. but what is a dream, if not with you?

XIAO.

“i am extremely picky about people. most of them, i don’t particularly like. i have very high standards for the ones i let into my life these days. and you, are my favorite of all of them. i love you best of all.” — meet me at the lake; carly fortune

he is a fawn learning to stand on its own for the very first time. clumsy, unstable, distrusting of everything and the world around him.

xiao is not afraid of anything, but he is afraid of you. or perhaps he’s afraid of the feelings you give him. a heavy heart locked behind centuries of bloodshed, he has promised himself he would never allow himself that level of vulnerability ever again.

you bring him a type of uncertainty that he doesn't quite know how to balance, and that makes him afraid. how is he supposed to keep his guard up when it's so easy for you to break past them? when all it takes is for you to press soft kisses against his callous knuckles before he becomes weak in your hold?

“does that bother you?” the question rings in the back of his mind. and he falls silent. did it bother him? that you could read him like a book? that you could tell exactly what he was thinking at any given moment? that he couldn’t seem to hide anything from you?

“no,” he finally says, spoken from the depths of his chest, “it doesn’t bother me at all.”

#: sunny 🪼#genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #kamisato ayato x reader #ayato x reader #childe x reader #cyno x reader #xiao x reader

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theblueflower05 · 11 months

Note

Okay, english is not my mother language but I'm gonna do my best.

It would be amazing if you made a story where tsireya and reader are a couple but they seem like best friends, so when the sullys arrive to the metkayina clan (let's say they are older than in the movie) lo'ak has a crush on Tsireya. Reader helps Tsireya teach the sullys the shape of water and lo'ak always tries to flirt with Tsireya. Until one day, Lo'ak takes a walk on the beach where he knows there are no people and he finds Tsireya and reader making love to each other. It would be great if you made Tsireya call reader mommy but I'll leave this to you.

The explanation came out quite long, I hope it is not too much to ask :)

Okay but this is the most juicy scrumptious ask I’ve ever gotten and I hope you know it made me literally clench around nothing. It’s just too good.

Thanks for giving me an excuse to write some Subby!Tsireya smut. I’m gonna go change my panties now.

Smut under the cut

You and Tsireya’s relationship still new and fresh and blossoming.

Most in the village think your just friends, the shy nature of your touches and hugs appearing like no more then girlhood friendship. They don’t need to know what the two of you get up to in your private time- you’re not a fan of PDA and Tsireya respects that.

The Sully’s arrive just after your three month anniversary.

You’re hesitant of new people, not cruel or interested in being nasty and joining in on the teasing. But nervous. Introverted and a tad bit wary.

She’s everything your not, kind and out going. Her aura sparkles, powder pink and glittery. She’s soft and welcoming, she’ll make an amazing T’sahik.

When she ropes you into helping train the newcomers, of course you can’t say no. When have you ever been able to say no to those giant eyes?

“They had to leave their home, could you even imagine that? It breaks my heart. We must help them adjust”

And she’s right of course.

The more that you get to know the Sully’s, the more your heart hurts for them. Being so forcibly uprooted from everything they’d ever known is horrific.

You “mother hen” people. It had always been known about you. The moment you take someone under your wing, there’s little you wouldn’t do for them.

You like the Sully siblings. Bond with them. Would even say you’ve become friends with them-

All except for one.

You can’t stand Lo’ak.

Toruk Makto’s youngest son grates at your last nerve. He’s brash and annoying-

And he won’t stop flirting with Tsireya.

It makes you see red. Makes your heart pound and your fists clench, everytime he whispers sweet nothings to her. Or stares at her with that love struck expression on his stupid face.

Tsireya doesn’t reciprocate, is respectful of her already established relationship but-

She’s just too fucking nice.

You tell her of the fact as you throw fits about it.

She’s yours. How dare this five fingered outsider come in and disrespect what you had?

“Y/n” she sighs as the two of you sit close together, the beach vacant. Only the ocean, lapping rhythmically at the shore, is there to bare witness to your vulnerability.

You’d been crying, your turquoise eyes red rimmed and your plush lips set into a tight frown.

Your knees are pulled up to your chest and you refuse to meet your girlfriends pleading gaze.

“It meant nothing, I was only teaching him to free dive” Tsireya vows before reaching out to you. Her soft hand on your shoulder as she urges you gently to look at her. “I only want to be with you. My heart beats for you, it belongs to you. Is that not enough?”

You huff, shaking your head “You let him hold your hand today!”

“He was drowning! He needed my help!“ she protests.

She’s too kind for her own good, for yours either. You’d seen the look on his face while their fingers intertwined.

It made you sick with jealousy. Twisted with unbridled rage.

“You…are kind, my sweet love. Too kind. But you’re not stupid. Don’t pretend that you don’t see the way that he looks at you” you hiss at her, avoiding her touch. So upset that it curdles in your stomach like something vile.

She sniffles. Tsireyas an emotional creature by nature. Having you this upset with her has her close to spiraling.

“What do you want me to do? I won’t train him anymore, if you don’t want me to. Please, Y/N. Don’t be upset with me” she warbles out, her big bottom lip quivering.

She’d do anything to melt this icy coldness that you were settling over the relationship she so deeply cherished.

“I want you to tell him your mine” you state with finality and she’s nodding before you can even finish.

“Yes, yes of course” she agrees. “I’ll tell him we’re dating. I’ll make that clear”

“No Tsireya. Not that we’re dating” you hiss at her, seething at her naivety “Tell him that your mine”

“Anything” she whimpers. She’d tell him anything you wanted her to.

You sigh and reach over. Grabbing her dimpled chin gently, your fingers firm on her jaw “He wants to fuck you, you know”

She blushes, cheeks going hot and rosy. Tries to shake her head, but your grip just gets that much firmer.

“He does” you continue, your bold gaze piercing. She can’t look away from your sparkling light green eyes as you speak “You’re going to tell him that you don’t need his cock. That you spend every night with me, fully satisfied. I treat you well so well”

She nods eagerly. “Of cour-“ you squeeze her so hard it hurts. It has her whimpering, tears gathering in her thick lash line.

“No, that wasn’t really a question, was it? I know I take care good of you, Tsireya. Anything you want, I give you. I’d rip out my fucking heart for you if you asked me to” your words are intense, laced with desperation. You’re quickly losing your composure- completely raw as you sink into how much you feel for her.

It’s obsessive. Not completely healthy.

Too much for most people-

Not for Tsireya.

Tsireya thrives on emotional energy.

She is already starting to squirm. She loves you when you get like this. She’s spoiled rotten, she wants all of your attention all of the time.

“Mhmm” she can only agree, her jaw aching in your hands.

“Who’s are you?” It’s a little bit of a taunt- meaner then you’d like to be but you’d been pushed here. Pushed to this emotional state.

“Yours, mommy” Tsireya whines, cheeks still squished in your grip. Lips pursed and pouting.

You slam your mouth to hers. That’s all you needed to hear.

————————————————————————-

Lo’ak has never felt like this.

There’d been girls back home in the forest, one’s that caught his eye. One’s that he’d pursued.

But there had never been a girl like Tsireya.

What had started as an innocent crush had bloomed into something- more. Something all consuming.

He thought about her before he went to sleep at night, and then again as the rays from the morning eclipse filled his family’s Mauri.

Her pretty face. Her sweet laugh. Her kindness.

It was all too much for him. No one had ever been this nice to him before, how was he not supposed to completely fall head over heels for her?

Tsireya likes him back. He knows it. She’s always willing to be an ear when he needs to vent. She never makes fun of his five fingers or tawtute eyebrows. She laughs at all his jokes!

And most of all. She spends all her free time teaching him the way of water.

There’s no way she doesn’t like him. He’s sure of it. Gloats about it to his siblings-

“Maybe she’s just that nice? Ever think about that, skxwng? I bet she’d tutor anyone who needed it”

Kiri was wrong. She just didn’t understand. The seeds of doubt she tried to plant weren’t gonna stick.

He’d show them.

He’d be brave and tell Tsireya about his love for her, and she’d accept it with warm arms.

Lo’ak is sure of it.

So he musters up all his courage and sets out to find the Metkayina girl.

Some of the villagers said they’d seen her head out- she was going to forage for a particular type of seaweed. It only grew on the South Beach- other side of the island, furthest from the village.

That’s fine. He doesn’t mind the trek. He uses it to try to calm his fraying nerves. Imagines all the ways that the scene is going to play out.

Tsireya is quite emotional. She might cry at his confession. She’ll launch herself into his open arms- she’ll need to be consoled. Lo’ak will hold her tight. Kiss her until she has nothing to be ready about any longer

He walks and walks and hell. Where the fuck is she?

South Beach is desolate. Completely barren of other villagers. No Tsireya.

There’s a large rock formation- tall and acting like a barrier. Maybe she’s behind there, she has to be. He’s making his way over, just about to call out her name when a high pitched feminine moan rings out.

Breaking the silence of the deserted beach.

His golden eyes widen, tail going ramrod straight in alert because what? That can’t be-

Another moan- this one’s different. It sounds gutted, almost pained.

“Y/N- pleaseeeeee”

His cheeks are hot and his hearts pounding in his chest as he creeps over, following the sounds. Crouching behind the big rock formation, unseen as he peers through a crack.

What he gets a clear view of takes his breath okay. Makes him freeze in total and complete shock.

Tsireya is on her hands and knees, bare as the day she was born. Her pretty shell top and gauzy tweng have been discarded and lie tangled in the sand.

Her breasts are naked, nipples peaked. Her hair is a complete mess. The usual meticulously styled tendrils are everywhere, sticking to her sweaty face. Swaying with her body.

“Ah-ah-ah PLEASE” she screeches, as she thrusts back into your fingers.

You’re behind her, naked too. Ethereal in the setting eclipse. You weren’t really his type. Too bitchy, too gorgeous for your own good-

But as he watches you fuck Tsireya hard with with your hand he can’t help but acknowledge your beauty.

There’s a scowl on your face and your blue eyes sparkle as you work the girl infront of you over.

“You’re being so-ah- so mean” Tsireya wails and she sounds like she’s in pain.

But Lo’ak can tell she likes it.

Her ears are swiveling on her head, her thick tail wagging. And a small smile tugs on her pleasure slackened mouth.

“You’ve been a bad girl. Bad girls don’t get to come” you snipe back and oh holy shit.

Loak is so confused as he hides there behind the rocks. So confused and so turned on.

How long had this been going on?

We’re the two of you like- together? He just thought you guys were close friends. Is this why you were always glaring at him?

“I told you I’m sorry” Tsireya sniffles- her hips still swiveling backwards, needing the pleasure of your touch. He wishes he could see your hand, see how many fingers you had pressed into the younger girl. “I’m so sorry, mommy. I’m only yours. I love you. I love you. I love you”

Lo’aks brain kind of sort circuits.

His ears ring and his hard on deflates.

Tsireya tells you that she loves you with such conviction, her tone adoration laced even as you torment her.

He realized then that his sister had been right. Tsireya had just been being nice to him. She didn’t like him back.

The future Tsahik had never once spoken to him that way.

You coo at her.

Leaning down to press your lips against her smooth back “I love you- you’re everything to me, Reya. Come now. Squirt for me one more time”

The sounds Tsireya let’s out as she orgasms are almost un-Na’vi. She sounds like she’s dying. Gone is the innocent girl who’d welcomed him on the beach. This woman is someone he doesn’t know- someone he’ll never know.

Lo’ak pulls away once he watches Tsireya collapse in your arms.

He can’t bare to watch the loving embrace the two of you share.

He stumbles back the way he came.

Lolololol this shit was so fun to write. I love a jealous Reader. Poor Lo’ak got humbled real quick.

#tsireya smut #aged up tsireya #tsireya x reader

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lieslab · 7 months

Text

To Saturn and back

꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎ ꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎ ꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎

Summary: After being brain-dead and on a ventilator for days, Hyunjin is forced to cope with the realization that you're not coming back.

Pairing: Hyunjin X gn reader

Genre: Angst with no happy ending

Word Count: 1.7K

_ _ _

“I don’t know how to let you go.” Hyunjin finally spoke up. After staying by your side for days while you remained unconscious in the hospital, the soft beeps of the heart rate monitor were the only thing keeping him company besides your steady breathing.

The sharp smell of antiseptic filled your room. No matter how many hours he stayed by your side, he couldn’t get used to it. He watched your chest move up and down in silence. His tears stopped flowing at some point as his sorrow ebbed into a state of numbness.

“I know it’s selfish of me to want you to stay, but you’re still warm.” His hand slipped into yours and he wrapped his fingers around the back of your palm. He used to say the two of you fit together like a perfect puzzle. “I keep thinking I’ll wake up from this nightmare.”

“One of these times, I’ll look up and I’ll be able to see your eyes flutter open.” A broken chuckle fell from his lips. “You used to look at me with such affection. It always warmed my heart. One look from you seemed to melt my worries away.” He kept his eyes focused on your hands.

“I’ve begged the doctors to change the outcome, but it’s always the same. Every test they run, you don’t respond, and that’s how I know you’re really gone. If you were still here, you’d try so hard to prove you were alive.” His thumb dusted against the top of yours. “I know you would if you could.”

His words stopped for a few moments and his gaze went to your face. How cruel of the world to present you to him as a sleeping beauty. You looked like you were sleeping and showed no signs of being brain-dead. The dim lights behind your bed casted shadows on your face. He tried to smile, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

The ventilator had been secured around your head with a plastic strap. A clear plastic tube was cautiously eased into your throat by the steady hands of a doctor. The larger tube tapered off into two smaller blue tubes. One pushed in oxygen whereas the other pulled out carbon dioxide.

“Your family came to visit a few times. I remember how lively your family was when we visited them for the holidays. They were so upbeat and happy. Warm smiles, open arms, and tight hugs.” His heart stung at the memory. “They’re trying their best to cope.”

“I hope wherever you are, I hope you don’t blame yourself. Nobody ever asks for these things to happen, they just do.” He shut his eyes for a moment. A soft sigh escaped his lips. “We’ve been hoping and praying that you’ll come around, but…” His voice lowered, “it’s been a few weeks now.”

“I think it’s time we l-let,” his voice cracked, “you go.” He swallowed the uncomfortable lump in his throat and went on. “Your family couldn’t be here for this and I’m sorry, but they’ve known you your whole life. This is the most difficult decision they’ve ever had to make.”

“They all said their final good-byes yesterday and I hope you heard them. They really care about you, you know? We all do.” His attention was pulled from you when there was a knock and the door opened.

A nurse stood in bright blue scrubs. Her mouth opened to say something, but her gaze softened upon the scene before her. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but the doctor would like to know when you’re ready to…” She couldn’t bring herself to say the words.

“Is it alright if I have a few more minutes?”

“Of course,” she forced herself to smile. “Please take all the time you need.” She spun around and shut the door without another word.

Hyunjin’s attention went back to you. He tried to memorize the feeling of your hand in his. This was the last time the two of you would be together. He bit down on the inside of his cheek and closed his eyes again.

“I have to keep reminding myself you’re already gone. Deep down, I know you’re gone, in my heart, but my brain wants to tell me otherwise.” He reopened his eyes and pulled his hand away from yours.

Without a word, he stood up and moved toward your hospital bed. He sat on the edge of it and grabbed your hand again, this time with both of his hands. “Your family spoke to the doctors and they’ve decided to donate some of your organs.”

“I struggled with it, at first, because I didn’t want to imagine that, but the doctors have told us about the receivers. There’s a five year old boy who struggles with kidney failure. Your kidneys are going to him and the doctors say if everything goes right, he could have a normal life.”

A memory popped up of the two of you walking in a park. The two of you were holding hands and talking when a kid fell off the swing. You let go of Hyunjin’s hand and rushed over to console the crying child. You wiped away their tears, pulled a band-aid out of your bag, and reassured her everything would be alright as you bandaged her scraped finger.

“And there’s a father of two children that’ll receive your liver. The doctors said he’s fighting liver cancer. I got to meet with him and talk to him. He has two cats and a goldfish,” Hyunjin chuckled. “Can you believe he has a goldfish? I’ve never met anyone with a single pet goldfish.”

“And your heart is going to a woman around your age. She just had a baby a few weeks ago. She needs the heart, so she can raise her baby.” Tears pricked up in his eyes. “I wish it didn’t have to be yours, but you own the biggest heart I’ve ever known.”

“You might not be alive anymore, but parts of you are going to keep on living. I think if you were able to hear that, you’d be at peace with it. You always liked helping people. You’re one of the most selfless people I know.”

He moved forward and gently laid himself between the small opening of you and your bed. His tears blurred his vision as he glanced over at your face. He pushed a piece of your hair away from your forehead with a trembling hand.

“I’m going to miss everything about you. The way you used to smile at me when I came home. The warmth of your body when I crawled into bed after a long day of work. The home cooked meals you used to make sometimes. All those times I annoyed you while we shopped for groceries.” He laughed at the memory.

“I know it’s part of life and this is how it works. I have to let you go, I know you’d want me to, but I miss you so much. I don’t want to do this without you.”

The suppressed emotions were bubbling up inside him. He was hit with a wave of anger and his voice came out a little louder. “Why can’t you just wake up? We need you here! I need you!” His ugly sobs filled the room. He rolled over and stuck his head in your chest.

He wasn’t met by the comfort of your arms. The soft sound of your voice never appeared. You used to gently tug your fingers through his hair, but that was gone too. Your heart monitor continued to beep. Your brainwaves ceased to exist. The ventilator continued to breathe for you.

He sobbed until his throat was raw. Snot and tears coated your hospital gown. His arms wrapped around you and he moved beneath the ventilator tube to listen to your heartbeat a final time.

He closed his eyes and laid there for a while. The nurses must have heard his sobs from outside the room. They must have decided to let him experience this human misery in peace. His heart had cracked open like an eggshell and the only thing left behind was the runny intangible feeling of despair.

After a while his sobs turned into quiet singing. His voice cracked and the pitch was wrong, but it didn’t matter. The never ending stream of sadness flowed out of him in the form of your favorite songs. With his ear pressed to your chest, he sang, and sang, and sang until he finally ended it with your favorite song.

When he finished, he was left with a hollow ache in his heart. This was it, the end of everything, he was alone now. He forced himself to pull away from you. He took in your face a final time.

The way your eyelashes brushed against the tops of your cheeks. The slope of your nose. The feathered eyebrows that you used to get mad at because you had to pluck them regularly to keep their shape.

He leaned forward, so his face was a few inches away from yours. “Please just wait for me. Wherever you are, I’ll find you one day. If you’re not there, I’ll find you in the next life.” His bottom lip quivered, “I-I promise.”

He leaned forward and pressed his lips against the middle of your forehead. They remained there for a few seconds until he pulled away. “I love you to Saturn and back.”

Saturn was your favorite planet. It had been your favorite planet ever since Hyunjin bought a telescope after you mentioned you liked space in a passing conversation. For your latest birthday, he bought the telescope and set it up to view the planets and stars.

He set up a picnic for you on top of a hill. The two of you watched the sun set side by side. You fell asleep in his lap and he woke you up when it was dark enough to see the planets. After spending nearly twenty minutes searching the cloudy darkened sky, you finally found Saturn.

It was your thing ever since that night.

I love you to Saturn and back.

Such a simple phase that held so much meaning to the two of you. That picnic was the place where Hyunjin asked you to date him. It was beneath those stars that the two of you shared your first kiss.

He gave your hand one last reassuring squeeze before he reached over to press the call button to let the nurses know that it was time.

| ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ | ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ | ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ |

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#stray kids #stray kids fanfic #stray kids drabbles #hwang hyunjin #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin stray kids #hyunjin angst #fanfic writing #fanficwriter #kpop fanfic #stray kids angst

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sunflwryu · 9 months

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warning: yandere, murder | requested by: anon

perfect

“w-what? baby, what is this...?” niki’s head snaps towards the direction of the familiar voice, only to see you, his beloved, standing there at the bottom of the stairs to the basement with wide eyes and a mortified expression.

fuck! he doesn’t know what to say to explain the situation. what, should he say that he kidnapped and beat the shit out of your ex because you ranted to him about them last night about how they led you on and broke up with you and dated someone new immediately? there’s no way you’d be okay with something like this, even if he did it to take revenge on them for hurting you.

“i-i-i...” he stammers.

your terrified gaze falls to the bruised body on the floor, registering the sheer amount of crimson red pooling around them to the metal baseball bat in his hands. “...you killed them?”

he drops the bloodied weapon on the floor at the horror in your voice. doom weighs on his shoulders as he dreads what comes next. he can’t lie to you, especially when you’ve caught him in the act, and because of the truth, you’ll definitely leave him. you will, won’t you? he closes his eyes for a moment, remembering all the good memories you had together, how much he loved you and dedicated himself to you, how much he loved hugging you and holding you close, how much he loved taking you out on dates, how much he loved how you folded into his side as you stuck to him like glue.

he opens his eyes, clenching his fists, preparing for the worst and taking in your beauty for what probably will be the last time. “i-i did this because i love you...” he blurts out, nervously waiting for your inevitable rejection.

that’s the truth, and that’s the only thing he can say right now. he swallows hard, knowing you’ll probably just scream, run away, and report him to the police for this, knowing that you could just ruin his life if you wanted because he’d never raise a hand against you even if it was to stop you, but he still hopelessly hopes that you’d notice his sincerity, that you’d stay and love him back.

but you don’t run away like he expects. instead, you’re still standing there. there’s no hint of fear in your demeanor, only acceptance.

“y-you’re not scared of me...?” he asks hesitantly, not knowing if that act is real or just some strange response because you’re scared of him. he’s afraid to know the answer to that question.

you walk over to him, reaching up to caress his cheek, smudging the red splatters on his skin, the gentlest of smiles on your face as if you hadn’t just witnessed him standing over your dead ex with a bat, as if you hadn’t just stepped over a bloodied corpse, as if you just happened upon something completely normal. there’s a familiar glint in your eyes as you stare into his, and then you press your lips to his before throwing your arms round his neck.

“why would i be? i’m so lucky to have you. you’re one in a billion to me, darling.”

he blinks once, twice in disbelief. “r-really?”

you jump up and down eagerly, your tone extremely enthusiastic. "i’ve always dreamed of someone proving their love by killing for me! don’t you think that’s so romantic?” you sigh dreamily in satisfaction. “that’s the biggest form of love, wouldn’t you think so?”

huh...?

“and you did this because i told you about how cruel they were to me, right? and you did the same to all my exes, right?” you barrage him with questions, and he gives a slow nod to all of them, still processing what you’ve said. “you’re absolutely my dream, baby! you love me so much to even commit murder for me, to even risk being taken away from me just to avenge me and my pain!” you peck him on the lips again excitedly, pulling away with a sick grin. “i love you even more now!”

niki’s ecstatic from hearing this side of you he’s never known, this abnormal dream of yours he’s somehow embodied. you actually accept him! you actually love him even after knowing all he did, all his twistedness. he beams at you proudly, showing how happy he is at your words, how happy he is that you’re staying, that those memories won’t have to disappear, that they’ll be new, better ones to be made.

you brush a lock of hair away from his face before gesturing towards the body still on the basement floor. “we should clean up and dispose of that thing quickly. wouldn’t want my darling to get caught, hm? i’d be devastated if someone as wonderful and romantic and loving as you were taken away from me because of it, you know.” you click your tongue as you make your way over to the mop and bucket, dragging it across the floor to clean up the blood nonchalantly, humming a lighthearted tune.

and that's when he knew...it wasn't a dream when he saw you at the sink yesterday morning at the crack of dawn, grinning almost too widely as you washed a knife. he sighs happily in relief, reaching for a garbage bag to stash the body in.

aren't you two just perfect for each other?

anon said: Hellooo good day. May i request a yandere riki where y/n found out about his yandere behavior so riki thought that y/n is going to leave him but y/n didn't because of the power of love(lol jk) i just thought it'll be a cute scenario lol

note: thanks for requesting, anon! i hope you like this one! i already have a disclaimer on my pinned post, but i just wanted to reiterate here: i don’t condone this behavior nor should you! it’s not romantic y’all, okay? this is just fiction and purely for entertainment. mc is really twisted in this one so oops (thought: they had so many exes cuz they were looking for someone like niki), sorry that it’s not so cute. anyway thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed this fic!! it was different from my other ones so i had fun writing it. <- my original note lol but this is also part of my publishing-drafts spree.

enhypen masterlist | main masterlist | by @sunflwryu

#yandere enhypen #enhypen yandere #yandere enha #enha yandere #enha niki #nishimura riki #niki #enhypen #enha #enhypen fanfic #enhypen niki #enhypen nishimura riki #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen imagines #yandere niki #yandere kpop #enha fanfic #enha imagines

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velidewrites · 2 months

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Don’t Look Back

Five hundred years ago, the humans fought hard for their freedom in the Great War and won. Now, their former masters seek retribution in a rebellion that grows stronger year by year. When Elain Archeron finds out marrying Greysen Nolan might be the only solution to keep her family safe from the ancient, cruel Fae, she doesn't hesitate to fulfil her duty. What Elain doesn't know, though, is that the man with the fiery hair and russet eyes is not her fiancé, but his killer—and when she finally finds out, well…it will be far too late to turn back.

Chapter 4/15 || Read on AO3 || Go to Chapter 1 || beta'd by @ablogofsapphicpanic

Chapter 4: The Runaway

As much as she hated to agree with anything that came out of Lucien Vanserra’s mouth, Elain was angry. The rage burning in her cheeks felt hotter than the fire flickering at Eris’s fingertips, ready to reduce the tent and everyone inside it to ash as she seethed, “He is no betrothed of mine.”

“The feeling is quite mutual, I assure you,” Graysen—Lucien, she had to correct herself—told her.

“So let me go, then.”

Lucien didn’t even meet her gaze. “Ah,” he said, studying his nails—long and sharp now, Elain realised, so unlike the hands that held her at the ball last night. “I’m afraid I can’t do that.”

Elain gritted her teeth. “Explain.”

“We’re many days from New Prythian, Lady Archeron,” Eris’s voice reached her. She’d nearly forgotten he was in the tent—him and Azriel, who now stood guarding the entrance, hazel eyes not leaving the scene for one second. “We’ve reached Braemar this morning, There’s no turning back.”

She peeled her gaze off of Lucien’s hand, his stupid, handsome face, and made herself look at Eris. “You seem like a man who loves to hear himself talk,” she said to him. “So talk.”

Lucien snorted.

Eris’s amber gaze cut to him instantly. “Something funny, little brother?”

Elain blinked. “Brother?”

Her question was ignored entirely. “There’s just something wonderfully satisfying about watching a human put you in your place,” Lucien crooned, a familiar smile returning onto his full lips.

If I may return the compliment…Your eyes are the most beautiful I have ever seen.

He’d spoken these words to her with that smile. It seemed like a lifetime ago now.

Whatever she had felt—whatever she thought she had felt before when she looked at Lucien was long gone now.

He was a liar—he was such a liar, and Elain had been nothing but a fool.

Clearly unaware of the turmoil whirring through her mind, Eris said, “One more word, and you’ll be leaving this camp on foot.” He turned to Elain. “Do you ride, Lady Archeron?”

Elain narrowed her eyes on him. “I am not going anywhere with you,” she spat. Then, like a flicker of light sparking in her head, she added, “You’re the Fae rebels the Huntsman has been after, aren’t you?”

They had to be—there were so very few of them left. And if Braemar was indeed where they’d taken her, the three males standing before her like predators circling their prey must’ve been the ones who had made Father give Nesta away to Hybern—and Elain to Rask.

As great as that went.

“Would you look at that, Eris,” Lucien purred, “Our reputation precedes us.”

“All the way to New Prythian, it seems,” Eris agreed, his expression sour. “Wretched place. I never enjoyed coming back here.” He grimaced. “Especially when it was known under another name.”

“You’ve been to our lands before,” Elain told him, the words not entirely a question.

Eris nodded. “I’ve had the displeasure,” he said. “Spring Court. Nothing but nasty beasts roaming everywhere. Terrible leadership.” He waved a dismissive hand. “Some things never change.”

Elain ignored the jab. “And you?” she asked, turning to Lucien.

“First time,” he shrugged, the hard muscles of his arms shifting with the movement. Damn him. “And while I certainly wish it could be my last, Princess, I’m afraid we’ve got some more work to do in New Prythian.”

“I hope by more work you mean returning me to the Manor, because I am not going a step further with the likes of you,” Elain seethed.

The corner of Lucien’s mouth quirked upwards. “The likes of us,” he hummed. “What could you possibly mean by that, little fawn?”

The bastard saw through her again.

So Elain finally asked, “Are you the Fae who killed my mother?”

It wasn’t difficult to put two and two together. These Fae had broken into Elain’s house like it was nothing—like they had been there before. And, since they were the only rebels who had dared to cross onto New Prythian, into her father’s territory…

Eris looked directly into her eyes as he said, “Yes.”

It was strange how one simple word had managed to knock her breath out of her chest—how it replaced all the air with that angry, sizzling fire, begging to be let out like a caged animal.

Elain choked through the feeling. “You did this?” She looked at Lucien. “Did you?” He said he hadn’t been to her lands before, but, in the less than twenty-four hours Elain had known him, he had not been truthful with her once. Why should she believe him?

Lucien met her stare calmly. “Would it change anything if I did?” he asked.

Elain would kill him, she decided right there and then. She didn’t care when, she didn’t care how—hell, she didn’t even care if it really was him who had done it. One way or another, Lucien Vanserra would pay for it—for all of it.

Perhaps she would hire a mercenary—or send an entire guard after him, if she ever managed to return home. Perhaps she would find the worst magical object in her father’s prized collection and use it to do it herself. An enchanted dagger, perhaps, shoved right through his neck.

So Elain told him, forcing that resolve into her trembling tone, “I want to know if the male who ruined my future is the same one who ruined my past.”

Lucien’s brows rose.

“It was me,” Eris said then, once again reminding Elain that perhaps Lucien was not the only male she had to swear to kill.

Her head whipped towards him. “How?” she questioned, jaw tensing as she made herself add, “There wasn’t any blood on her sheets when she was found.”

She had to know. Whatever they’d done to her, she’d repay it tenfold.

A rare thought crossed her mind that Nesta would have enjoyed the newfound bloodlust in Elain. Her sister had always harboured more vindictiveness inside her than Elain, which apparently was something Lucien Vanserra had a talent of bringing out of her. Perhaps she needed to get to Hybern, first—to alert Nesta and her allies, however terrifying they were, of the rebels who dared to kill their family.

If the promise was written on her face, Eris seemed to care for none of it. “Your mother died a lot quicker than she deserved,” he simply said, fixing the cuffs of his immaculate bronze jacket.

“Monsters,” Elain seethed. “You’re such monsters.”

A warning flame flickered in Lucien’s russet eyes. Beautiful, Elain had called them. She cursed herself for a fool once more.

“My brother is many things, Princess,” Lucien said slowly. “But a monster is not one of them.”

Eris’s gaze shot over to Lucien’s.

“And my sister?” Elain asked, dread building in her chest in anticipation of the answer. “What did you do to her?”

Eris’s attention returned to her. “We did not kill Feyre Archeron,” he told her. “Your mother was trouble enough.”

Her throat burned. “I hate you.”

Eris sighed. “I’m sure you do,” he nodded, as though she was nothing but a mere child and he was the one forced to pacify it. “That doesn’t change the fact that we need your help, Lady Archeron, and we will not release you until you give it to us.”

Elain shook her head. “You’re insane,” she told them both. “Insane. Why would I help the monsters,” she repeated, secretly enjoying the way Lucien’s nostrils flared at the word, “who had spent centuries trying to kill every last one of my kind? My own family?”

Lucien bristled, “Liars. Humans have always been such liars.”

Elain’s features were crafted of stone as she faced him again. “You have been lying to me from the moment we met,” she told Lucien. “I don’t ever want to speak to you again.”

A muscle jutted in Lucien’s jaw.

“If you don’t listen to my brother,” Eris interrupted, watching her closely, “Perhaps you could be convinced by an old friend.”

Elain did not have time to question any of them as the flaps of the tent opened, the pale sunlight pouring in through the gap. As a new figure appeared in the entrance and brushed past Azriel, her hair shining like red-hot, molten metal.

That face—Elain knew that face. Had remembered how it lit up in a smile the very last time she had seen it, six years ago before the messengers alerted the Manor of her death.

The Huntsman’s daughter, her death the very first time Elain understood just how cruel the Fae truly were, stopped right before Elain and smiled.

Alive.

Elain swallowed in disbelief. “Vassa?”

***

The camp had been packed up before Elain even got the chance to see it. She had simply been placed in a rather unimpressive, open wooden carriage when a black-haired female appeared in her tent and announced they were ready to depart.

You can save your heartfelt reunion for the journey, Eris had told her then. We need to keep moving.

“I don’t understand,” Elain now told Vassa, trying not to scowl through the pain in her rear as they made their way through the bumpy road. She had ignored Lucien, who was quickly proving a rather unfortunate company, and the smirk still playing on his lips from the first time she’d yelped out in surprise when the carriage went over a rock. “I thought you were dead.”

Vassa smiled lightly, “My father certainly likes to spread that story around,” she told her. “It helps his cause, if nothing else. Truth is, he’s never liked me very much.”

“Does he know you’re alive?” Elain asked.

“He’s heard rumours, I’m sure,” Vassa nodded. “It brings me comfort to know they keep him up at night,” she added, a smirk of her own now curling her mouth.

Elain’s brows knotted. “Your father is a good person, Vassa.” She didn’t the Huntsman all that well, yes, but he was the one who had been keeping the Fae like Lucien away from New Prythian for all those centuries. Mostly successfully.

Vassa gave her a look. “Come now, Elain,” she almost scolded. “We haven’t spent much time together in the past, but I’ve always thought you were smarter than this.” She looked out to the path ahead as she added, “They all want us to think of them as our saviours, but those of us who have broken free of their lies…we know the truth.”

Elain angled her head. “Which is?”

“You’ll find out soon,” was Vassa’s cryptic reply.

“Where is it you’re taking me, exactly?”

Lucien shifted in his seat, reminding her of his rather unwelcome presence. “That is none of your concern,” he said, crossing his arms over his muddy, white shirt. He’d gotten rid of the jacket he’d worn at the ball, his sleeves now rolled up to his elbows, exposing arms so well-built she had to wonder just how many ex-fiancés he had to kill to look that ridiculous.

“I was not speaking to you,” she rudely told him. Then, upon further consideration, “I hope you know this engagement is over,” she added.

Lucien rolled his eyes. “My poor, broken heart,” he mocked, then rested an arm on the wooden rim and returned to brooding in silence.

Good. Elain was quickly finding out she was less aggravated the longer he kept his mouth closed.

“And they tell us to be afraid of the Fae,” she told Vassa. “Are they all such idiots?”

She could have sworn she heard a quiet scoff coming somewhere from the front.

Vassa grinned, clearly hearing it, too. “Oh, yes.”

“I am still here, Vassa,” Lucien grumbled.

Fine. If he so badly wanted to be part of the conversation, she would indulge him. As vexing as Lucien Vanserra was, she could at the very least get some answers out of him. And at best…he could be more useful to her than she'd originally thought.

So she asked, “How did you kill him?” She clarified, in case he really did spend all his free time killing mortal men, “Greysen?”

Vassa turned to Lucien. “I don’t think she wants to hear—”

“I ripped his heart out,” Lucien told her as if he was describing no more than his breakfast. Then, “It was over before he even really felt it.”

Elain looked at Vassa. “I think I’m going to be sick.”

Vassa’s eyes widened. “Should we stop the carriage?”

Elain nodded. “Plea—”

“We are not stopping the carriage,” Lucien cut in. “The Princess has heard of worse things in her life, Vassa,” he added, his gaze drifting back to Elain. “But that was a clever move, I’ll give you that. Too bad it didn’t work,” he shrugged, that shit-eating smirk returning onto his face.

“I hate you,” Elain told him truthfully, silently cursing all the gods for letting him ruin all her plans again. The open carriage would have been a lot harder to slip out of if it weren’t for his interrupting.

His smile only grew as he pointed out, “You didn’t seem to hate me at the ball.”

“And you didn’t seem to be such a—”

“Alright,” Vassa said, her voice rising over the rather unladylike nickname Elain had opted for. “Let’s all calm down, shall we? There really is no need to ruin a perfectly good carriage, especially when we’re going to need it for later.” A look at Elain. “I would appreciate it, though, if you didn’t try any more tricks on us, Elain. As difficult as this one is making it for me to prove, we do mean well.”

“Don’t forget who her father is,” Lucien added, his tone betraying nothing but mockery. “She may not understand the meaning of the word.”

“You didn’t even know him,” Elain spat.

“I didn’t have to,” Lucien said. “The fact that he married someone like your mother, of all the monsters on this earth, is telling enough.”

“Oh, you mean the woman you murdered?”

Vassa sighed deeply. “There are many things you don’t know, Elain,” she told her. “Everything will be explained once we reach the—” Lucien cleared his throat, and Vassa rolled her eyes once more. “Once we reach our destination,” she said instead, and Elain cursed them both for yet another lie they were feeding her.

“Why should I believe anything he says?” she asked. “Anything you all say? You kidnapped me from my own home, killed my fiancé, and are now taking me Gods know where in hopes of…what? That I’ll help you?” She almost laughed. “Give me one good reason, Vassa,” she told her. “Give me one reason why I should listen.”

“You don’t exactly have any other choice,” Lucien muttered from the front of the carriage.

“Shut up, Lucien,” Vassa told him. “Look. I know this is…difficult to understand,” she started, and the pity in her eyes was enough to make Elain seethe all over again.

“Don’t patronise me,” she accused.

“I’m not,” Vassa pressed. “I was you, once. Did you know why my father sent me to the Wildlands all those years ago?” She scoffed, more to herself now than Elain as she added, “I was getting out of control. His control, of course, and he was not happy with it. He didn’t like seeing my power grow—didn’t like seeing how his court rallied around me, how every hunt I returned from was more successful than the last. His hold over Braemar was slipping right into my hand.” Something like sadness took hold of her freckled features, and the air around them seemed to thicken. Even Lucien’s attention drifted back towards them as Vassa said, “But, at that time, my hand was his own. I was his daughter. Everything I did—all of it—had been to gain his favour. I killed and slaughtered because I thought that, with enough bloodshed spilled in his name, he would eventually claim me as his heir. Hell, claiming me as his child would have probably been enough for me.” Cerulean eyes met Elain’s own. “But all my father saw was a threat. So I became exactly that.”

Vassa continued, “When he sent me to the North under some pathetic excuse of protection from the Fae rebels marching on Braemar, I knew it was to get rid of me. I begged and I pleaded for him to let me stay—to let me fight by his side, to avenge our ancestors and kill the masters threatening our family again. All this time, I had no idea it was us, the humans, living in their ancestral home. That it was my family who had taken that home from the ones who had once been our allies.”

“But my father didn’t let me stay—he forced me onto my horse and, with a legion of twelve sentries who I knew were really my executioners, sent me to the border. The fact that he thought twelve men could hold me down…” A sly smile curled the corner of her mouth. “Then again, my father had always underestimated me.”

Elain swallowed.

“They attacked the moment we stepped into the Guardian’s lands,” Vassa went on, “But the border was empty. He was likely in on it, too. No one in their right mind ever wants to get on the Harvester’s bad side. So when the first of the sentries swung his sword at my neck, there wasn’t a single soul in those woods to help me.”

“Please,” Lucien said, a smile of his own now tugging at his lips. “It’s not like you needed any help.”

Vassa offered him a grin—then turned to Elain, her next words preventing her from analysing how in the hell the Huntsman’s own daughter befriended someone like Lucien Vanserra as she added, “When Eris found me, my hair was sticky with blood and my fingers half-frozen from the snow.” Elain shuddered. “But I survived. The fire he’d cast brought me back from the cold death I was succumbing too. I knew who he was right away—I recognised the magic still haunting the halls of the home I was exiled from.” She shook her head, her curls grazing her collarbone slightly. “He knew who I was, too, and what my family had done to his own. I was dying, defenceless and his enemy. But Eris did not kill me,” she said, “He helped me up.”

“He told me the truth—about everything. Had proven it, too, because as much as I hated my father, I still believed the lies he’d been telling me my entire life. You all showed me another way,” she said to Lucien, a small smile lighting up her face before she turned back to Elain. “I’ve been by their side ever since.”

“And we owe you a lifetime’s debt for it,” Lucien said.

Vassa tilted her head slightly. “There are no debts among friends, Lucien.”

“All this to say,” she said to Elain, “I know why you hate them—why you probably hate me right now, too. But I’ve seen true monsters, Elain, and they don’t look like the males who have stolen you from New Prythian.” That sadness returned to her stare as she told her, “They look like the man whose eyes you see in the mirror every morning.”

Elain studied her face. “And I suppose Eris will show me the truth,” she said slowly—then turned to Lucien. “He is your brother,” she added, remembering the familial term Eris had called him back in the tent.

“He is,” Lucien agreed.

“Older?”

Vassa snorted.

Lucien’s eyes narrowed. “You wound me, little fawn.”

“Stop calling me that,” Elain told him.

“As you wish, Princess.”

“Gods, I don’t know which is worse,” Elain grimaced. She continued, though, curiosity getting the better of her, “Eris called you the seventh son of the Autumn Court—the old Braemar,” she clarified. “Would that not make him…” she hesitated, not entirely sure whether the words she’d learned from her old history books were truly a spell of some sorts—a spell that would bring them back to life.

Lucien hummed. “Are you afraid, Elain?”

If she admitted it, he would probably call her something infuriating like little fawn again. So she told him, “No.”

Lucien smiled knowingly. “Then ask me the question.”

Elain pushed through the words. “Is Eris the High Lord of the Autumn Court?”

“Yes,” Lucien simply told her. “He is.”

Elain’s shoulders tensed.

“If it helps, it was a shock to me, too,” Vassa chimed in.

“I thought the High Lords were all dead,” Elain said, hating the quiet hollowness invading her tone.

“He is the last one, as far as we’re aware,” Lucien explained matter-of-factly. “But he doesn’t wish to be addressed as such—not while the humans are still living in our home.” He added, “Our father was killed shortly after the War, and the rest of our brothers followed shortly after. The ancient magic became Eris’s, and he became the High Lord.” A shadow passed through his handsome features. “A High Lord without land, without subjects, without family. As the humans took over, our magic dwindled, too. The things we were once able to do are now all but a distinct memory. Eris will not call himself High Lord until that magic—until everything—is returned to us.”

He looked at Elain. “That is why you’re here, little fawn,” he crooned. “You’re going to help us get it back.”

The carriage halted with the words—and Elain realised the rocky path had finally ended. They had somehow ended up in the middle of a forest, so golden and bright she had to squint before she took it all in—before she noticed the leaves, gleaming with health and all the shades of auburn and red, the wooden pillars forming a circle around the clearing stretching right before them.

A dozen balls of fire cackled to life atop the pillars, prompted by a magic so ancient Elain could practically taste it on her tongue.

“Welcome,” Lucien’s voice sounded behind her, rich and deep, as if brought to life by this strange place, too. “To the Vanserra Hold.”

#elucien #pro elucien #elain x lucien #elain archeron #lucien vanserra #elucien fic #elucien fanfiction #acotar #my writing

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ohtobeleah · 7 months

Note

how do you think mickey would start trying to fix things with hyde after 2nd kick out?

i had this idea where she has to serve him at the bar bc penny’s not there and he notices she’s sniffling a little and asks if she has a cold.

and she just shrugs and mutters “getting kicked out in the middle of the night will do that to you” before walking away

or maybe when he tries to be nice to her (bringing her water when she seems dehydrated on her shift, offering a ride when she has to go somewhere) and she eyes him suspiciously, thick with distrust, and says something like “what, want me to suck your dick?”

I feel like he’d just try to get you to talk to him in casual settings first. He’d feel awful, truly. Who wants to be known as the guy that kicks a woman out of bed? Who wants to be known as the guy who made you feel like the o my woman in the world, twice mind you, only to turn around and treat you like you were nothing.

The “What, want me to suck your dick?” Comment. It’s just you and Mickey in the carpark, Logan’s with Bob having a night in. The WSO didn’t feel like going on so he offered to babysit. And Mickey is just standing across from you in the empty car park of the Hard Deck because he’d hung around for you to finish. “You want me to fuck you again just so you can kick me out? Were the last two time you did not enough?”

“I didn’t mean to hurt you Hyde it’s just—“

“I know!” You shout. Fanboy can see the tears in your eyes. “I know you didn’t mean to hurt me but you did Mickey! You did and what you did was cruel! It was nasty and I didn’t fucking deserve it.”

“I’m sorry—I don’t know what to do here Hyde.” It’s the way he says it that makes you pause. “I really like you, I do. You’re the only woman who’s ever made me feel this way besides my—“ He can’t even say it, but you know Mickey was about to say wife. “I don’t know how to love you, I feel like I’m in G loc and I can’t pull myself out of it but with you, I can breathe.”

And Mickey doesn’t know how he manages to mess up an apology, but he does.

“How about you call me when you figure out how to love me, Lieutenant.”

“Hyde wait—no I didn’t mean it like that just, just wait!” And so Mickey reached out for you, he grabs your wrist so you can’t step away. “I meant it like, like you’re consuming my entire life, I want you, I really do—you make me feel like I’m alive but I’m so scared of losing you, I can’t lose you because I know this time I won’t make it.” And you listen, you don’t speak while Mickeys tears fall down his face. “My wife’s last words to me were ‘Take care of Logan for me.’ And your first words to me, the day we met were ‘We gotta get some toys for this little guy, gotta take care of the handsomest man around.”

“How do you even remember that?”

“Because I love you, I do, I promise I do I just don’t know how to move on from what I lost because I wasn’t ready to give it up.”

“I’m not asking you to ever give her up or move on Mick! all I want is some space in your heart.” You reply. “I’ve never asked you to stop loving your wife Mickey, because you won’t ever stop, but you need to figure out how to love us both or else I’m just gonna keep getting pushed out every-time you decide you’ve let me in too much.”

“I know I hurt you.” The space between you is almost nonexistent. “Please Hyde just give me one more chance here.” You lips are ghosting Mickeys while you decide. His hands come up to cup your cheeks so you can’t pull away. “I’m begging you, one more chance that’s all I ask for, I don’t know how to do this.”

“Take me home Flyboy.” You sigh before pulling away. It’s a start but you turn on your heels and head in the direction of Mickeys car.

Mickey considers that a win: Even if he does end up just driving you back to your place.

#jekyll & hyde // mickey garcia

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redfoxwritesstuff · 2 months

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Sunflower: Book 1, Chapter 9

Tom Hiddleston x OFC Series rated: M Chapter warnings: Tom sticks his foot in his mouth some? AN: Chicks have survived! We ordered 4, got 5 and they all hatched on V day and have Vday themed names. Chapter 8, Masterlist, Chapter 10 ~~~~~<3 “Let me be clear- I am committed for at least a year or until death. We’re married. I do not take that lightly.” It drove him mad that he had to keep saying it. When would she believe that it was more than just a whim?

“Tom-”

“Part of being married is the sharing of resources and caring for each other. I care for you and I care for her. You don’t have to care about me- it would be nice but that may come in time.”

“What if you change your mind? What then?”

Mia felt like screaming. She felt like running. She felt like crying. She felt like reaching out to him for comfort. Instead she sat stone still and board straight.

“What if I let you find us some magical Las Vegas apartment, get us moved and three months from now you get tired of your secret American family and stop paying the rent?”

“I-” It was her turn to cut him off.

“You’re right- I can’t afford anything better. I can’t afford food until Monday. If I let you in, let you change our lives and then you change your mind? We end up homeless. Hell, I can only afford this damn apartment because we’ve been there so long.”

“I wouldn’t-”

“How do I know that? How can I trust that?” Mia’s frustration grew when her vision waved as her eyes grew teary. “You think I don’t want to give you a chance because you’re ugly or cruel or something. Any woman would die for this chance but I can’t. I’ve got a little girl who relies on me.”

She harshly wiped away a tear that had the nerve to slip from her eye.

“If I take a gamble and it’s a bust, she gets hurt. She ends up homeless. She ends up in state custody. She gets her heart broken too.”

“I didn’t think of it that way.”

She scoffed at him and he bristled at that, opening his mouth to try and defend himself. She started again before he had a chance to say anything though.

“It’s my job to think of that. How can I trust a stranger, even a stranger I married on a whim, to not let some little girl who he’s known for even less time become homeless. How can I trust that you’re not going to suck her into your charm, make her see you as a father then walk away?”

“I don’t want to push her to see me as a father.” That was the easiest point to focus on first. “If that happens, it happens naturally. I’m not going to pretend that we don’t have a lot of things to decide on, to plan and work out but that will take time.”

Creeping fingers slid a few inches more. He wiggled his finger tips against hers, lacing them together. She didn’t pull away and he took that as a good sign.

“Tom,”

“If I find an apartment- something modest but without gaps in the doors or maintenance crews that help themselves to tenant’s groceries, if I were to pay the lease up front for the year, would you consider it?”

“This is my life-” People would say she was using him, she knew that as much as she knew her name.

“No, Mia- not any more.” His voice was soft, devoid of the harshness that had crept in. “It’s our life now. We get to decide what that looks like. We will go over what bills we’ll have, we’ll work together and come up with a plan that makes you feel safe and lets me feel assured that the two of you are safe.”

“I don’t want to use you.” She wanted to accept.

Glancing at Sally, she knew for her daughter this sort of chance at financial security may never come again. If she allowed Tom to take care of them, even if things didn’t work out she could save her checks.

“If I’m offering, insisting and fighting you to allow it, is that using me?”

“I’ll think about it, alright?” Mia ran her hand through her hair, scarping her nails along her scalp. “It’s just- It’s a lot, really fast.”

“I know.”

~~~~~<3

She stood in the kitchen crying. There were boxes scattered in the living room to be taken to the trash later. Tom was upstairs reading who knows how many bedtime stories to Sally.

It felt weird to not be the one putting her to sleep. It felt good to have someone to help with simple tasks like bedtime.

If she wasn’t careful, she could get used to this.

Realizing the refrigerator and freezer both had been standing open while she cried, for how long was anyone’s guess, she closed it. It was overwhelming, seeing the full shelves. Tom had kept his word, stocking the kitchen in a way she had never been able to do before.

There were drinks and snacks. Brand new pest proof bins held rice, flour, sugar and dried pastas. A electric kettle sat on her counter and a variety of teas were stacked next to her coffee pot.

Things for him. Things for her husband.

“Are you alright?” Tom asked softly from the foot of the stairs. “She’s asleep.”

Mia couldn’t do anything but nod at first.

“It’s just a lot.” She said weakly. Everything was hitting her now. Regardless of if she wanted to or not, she was going to have herself a good cry right now.

“Is it?” Tom wasn’t sure what to say as he approached.

“No one’s ever- I’ve never. We’ve never had this much before.”

Tom moved slow, giving her chance after chance to tell him to back up, to stop, to give her space or go away. Large hands rested on her shoulders as he looked down to her.

“Does he not provide for his daughter?” That was a question that had been rattling around in his brain since he saw the picture.

“He’s supposed to pay child support but he hasn’t in over a year. It’s just been me and when Ashley can, she’ll help.”

Slowly, Tom pulled her to his chest. “It’s okay.” He soothed.

It felt good to be held by him. The moment stretched on as she tried to keep her tears to a minimum. “I’m sorry.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” He asked as she pulled herself away from him.

There were things to do and crying in his arms wasn’t something on her schedule.

~~~~~<3

They sat, cups of tea on the small table in front of them. Tom flipped through apartment listings only to have every single option turned down. Frustration built in him with each apartment, nice and basic, turned down. “Why? They’re all nicer than this place.”

She sat in silence as he took his glasses off and rubbed the bridge of his nose. It wasn’t her intention but she was being difficult.

“I’m sorry.” And she was, to a degree. “It’s just so much.’

“I’m just going to pick some and we’ll look.” Tom decided, locking his phone and setting it facedown on the table in front of them. “There’s still a lot to decide. We can put the utilities on auto pay so you don’t-”

“I don’t want you to pay for everything.” It would be better to just shut up and let him pay everything, she knew that. It would allow her to save more for when this inevitably falls apart but she just couldn’t make herself feel okay doing it. “Let me at least keep the electric and internet- the electric will vary during the year and the internet isn’t a necessity.”

“I can send money for groceries-”

“If I’m not paying rent, groceries shouldn’t be a problem.”

For the first time in their marriage, they sat and talked into the night. The topics were not fun ones. They talked of financial histories, debts, education and potential future earnings. They talked about the cost of managing their individual households.

Tom wasn’t rich in the realm of his career but compared to her, he was far more financially secure. And unlike her, his career was ramping up and reaching for the sky. Tom swore to her, regardless of what direction his career took, if their attempt at a marriage did not work he would not leave her financially hurt but she struggled still to put faith in him.

~~~~~<3

Midnight quickly approached and Mia’s yawns were coming more and more frequently. They were so different in backgrounds that simply learning about each other’s past ate up more of the night.

“You should go to bed.” Tom’s hand reached out for hers. “It’s been a long day.”

“You’ve been up just as long as me.” Mia countered though she still stood up, slipping her hand out from under his.

“I need to be up a bit longer yet.” He wanted nothing more than to go up to bed though. “I’ve got to make some calls back home. Face the music and take my licks.”

“Are you in trouble with someone?”

“No, not really.” Tom thought twice about his answer after he said it. “Probably but hopefully he’s cooled off by now. My publicist wasn’t so happy with me. I blocked him after breakfast yesterday.”

“He knows about-?” She waved her hand to try and encompass the whole situation.

“Yeah, at least some of it.”

“I didn’t know you told anyone yet.” It was weird. They had built their relationship, small as it was, in a bubble where in a lot of ways he was just a normal man who was caught up in a Las Vegas situation fit for a Lifetime movie.

“I didn’t.”

Tom knew he needed to face reality head on. Luke would tell him how important it was to get ahead of the story and now it’s been two days.

“There are pictures of us at a bar and of me with you in your gown. I don’t know how much the world knows but I did tell Luke about our marriage.”

“It would be better for you if we didn’t do this.” Mia felt the earth tilting under her feet as what he was inched in again.

“Maybe, but that’s not something I want to change.”

Mia had so many questions but she didn’t know how to voice any of them. “Marriage records here are public,” was all she could think to say.

“That’s not a problem- I was planning on telling the truth. Or at least a version of it.”

“What’s that mean?”

“I like to keep my private life private. We’ll probably present us as something recent but not same day recent.”

“Should I stay up too?” Mia didn’t know what her role in this would be.

Tom stood and walked over to where she lingered by the stairs. He was touched at how she had opened up to him, slight though it was. It was there, he could feel it- the little buds that could maybe grow into the roots of a real marriage.

Reaching out, he took her hand in his. These small acts of affection were easier to accept each time they happened but it was clear they still left her uncomfortable. It still very much felt like pretend to her. Mia struggled to believe he felt anything but duty in them.

“Go on up to bed. I’ll be up as soon as I get done.”

~~~~~<3

Stand still.

Stand straight.

Write slow and careful.

Be neat.

Breathe.

Mia checked and double checked her spelling on the form. She sucked on a breath mint, feeling like she was a teenager again trying not to get caught. If they didn’t pull this part off, the cards would come crashing down.

When she was sure, through the muddy sludge of her alcohol steeped mind, she handed the form to Tom. He filled his portion out just as methodically. Every time he would glance up at her, his concentration was broke by a wide grin.

He was an old hand at filling out forms. Muscle memory took care of what Mia had spent ages overthinking.

She followed his lead as they returned to the counter. Identification was handed over and then it was time to wait. They stood stoic and still. Every bone in their body wanted to dance, to move and to be in the moment.

Toms fingers wove through hers. He placed a chaste kiss on the back of her hand. Softly, he told her things that went in one ear and out the other, lost in the sound of blood rushing.

“Here’s your packet. Identification is inside it.” The woman behind the counter sounded like she was reading from the dictionary to Mia.

But not how Tom would sound reading from one. Tom would somehow sound breathtaking reading a dictionary.

“Congratulations on your upcoming wedding.”

“Thank you,” Tom said before leaning down and kissing Mia on her cheek.

They had pulled it off. The woman either didn’t notice or simply didn’t care that the two standing in front of her were not just intoxicated but very intoxicated. This was the one test they had to pass and they did.

“We’re going to get married.” Mia leaned into Tom’s arm as they walked out of the building and into the magical night lights.

“Let’s go make you Mrs. Hiddleston.” Tom whispered, grin wide was he wrapped his arm around her waist.

“Let’s go get married.” She smiled up at him, trusting him to guide her safely.

Tom couldn’t help but glance down at the woman tucked into his side. The flashing lights reflected off her warm brown hair and danced in her eyes.

He felt something he had never felt before when he looked at her, when she smiled up at him. It could just be the alcohol but he didn’t think so. In his heart, he knew what he felt was a love pure and simple. It was a love he had been chasing and seeking since he had become a man.

It was a love he needed logic and fear to step aside for him to see clearly.

Love was waiting for him, he had to just be willing to see it.

~~~~~<3

Tag List: @winterisakiller, @alexakeyloveloki, @jennyggggrrrr, @dangertoozmanykids101, @tilltheendwilliwrite @tinchentitri @wizardcherryblossom @buttercupcookies-blog @violethaze @kats72 @soulpiercing

Ps: Sorry not sorry for the blog getting flooded in the next few weeks with baby chicken pictures, occasional dog videos and personal nonsense. Simply put, my pets are fucking cute and need to be seen. But also spring is coming and planting season is quickly approaching.

#tom hiddleston x ofc #tom hiddleston x oc #tom hiddleston x original character #tom hiddleston x original female character #tom hiddleston x reader #tom hiddleston fanfiction #tom hiddleston fanfic #Tom hiddleston rpf #tom hiddleston x you #Single!mother

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m1ckeyb3rry · 6 months

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Endure X: Jealousy

Series Synopsis: You and Eren Jaeger have been best friends since the age of two, but the two of you are destined for an inevitable tragedy. The world you have been born into is cruel; it is one where friends are traitors and enemies are allies, one where you find yourself doubting everything you've ever known. In this life, mistakes are fatal, and you must be careful, lest you make one too many.

Chapter Synopsis: As you progress in your training, you find yourself beginning to fall for someone. Eren is jealous, and Tullia, Mikasa, and Sasha are forced to intervene.

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Eren Jaeger x Female Reader, Armin Arlert x Female Reader

Chapter Word Count: 5.1k

Content Warnings: swearing, canon-typical violence, sexual abuse (non-explicit), major character death, angst, original characters included

“Wanna spar?” You had been exchanging intense eye contact with Tullia, trying to convince her to be your sparring partner, since you were not particularly looking forward to having to fight people. You knew that with her, you could easily slack off. Because of this, you had not seen Reiner Braun approaching you until he tapped your shoulder and asked to spar with you.

“Oh, Reiner! Um, well, I guess so,” you said, not wanting to be rude. You gave Tullia an apologetic look, but she just shrugged and went to find Jean, who also did not have a partner yet. He seemed surprised that she had asked him, but, with a side look at you, accepted.

Ever since that day in the bathroom, you and him had been friends of a sort. Neither of you would ever willingly sit with the other at lunch or anything, but there was a kind of mutual respect that had formed between you. It wasn’t much, but it was enough.

“Are you any good at hand-to-hand combat?” Reiner said, giving you the wooden knife and getting into position. You laughed and shook your head.

“No, I’ve never really had the chance to learn or anything. So no need to go all out against me,” you said, pointing the wooden knife at him mock-threateningly. He put his hands up innocently.

“Alright, alright. I’ll let you charge first, too. Just to be more fair, yeah?” he said. You gave him a small smile.

“Very sweet of you, Reiner, thanks,” you said, preparing to charge at him. He gave you a grin and ran his hand through his hair.

“Yeah, I’m a real — oof!” he cut off as you rammed into his stomach, knocking him to the ground. You gave him a wide-eyed look.

“I can’t believe that worked!” you said, reaching out your hand to help him up. He took your hand, but instead of using it to stand, yanked your into the dirt beside him before rolling over and pinning you.

“Never expect a fight to be over just because your opponent’s on the ground,” he instructed, sitting with his knees on either side of your waist and using one hand to hold both of your wrists together above your head. With his other hand, he plucked the wooden knife from your grasp and pressed it against your throat. You tried to escape his grip, thrashing as hard as you could, but it was futile. He had caught you, and you were helpless. Struggling just made him clamp down harder, so with a defeated sigh, you went limp.

“Fine, you win,” you said, closing your eyes and waiting for him to get off. When he didn’t, you opened your eyes to glare at him. He only smirked.

“Come on, you can’t give up that easily! Fight back!” he encouraged you.

“Tried that already. Did not work,” you informed him. He leaned down until the tips of your noses were almost brushing.

“Try harder,” he whispered, digging the edge of the blade into the delicate skin of your neck.

“Reiner, please get off. I cannot, physically cannot, fight back. Isn’t it smart to know when to accept your losses?” you said, looking into his wolfish amber eyes, filled with some unidentifiable emotion. He shrugged from atop you.

“Maybe, but I’ve never been one to know when I’ve lost. I just keep pushing forwards until the day that I can say, without a doubt, that I’ve won,” he said.

“Well, you’ve won, so you don’t need to keep pushing forwards,” you said, trying to squirm out of his hold. He did not budge.

“Is that really all you’ve got?” he said.

“Yes? I’ve been telling you that for the past five minutes,” you said, rolling your eyes. Somehow, he leaned in even farther, until he was so close that if either of you shifted even a little, your lips would brush. It was dangerous. It was wrong. It sent a thrill through you, a rush of heat, a shiver of anticipation.

“You’ve got more. I know you do,” he said.

“Yeah?” you said breathily, feeling dizzy from his proximity to you. Before he could respond, he was thrown off of you. Mikasa looked like some sort of avenging angel, her eyes dark with rage and a fierce scowl on her kind features. You could not help the disappointment coursing through your veins, though you did not know why you would be disappointed. You had wanted Reiner off of you, hadn’t you?

“Sorry I wasn’t faster, Y/N. I got distracted,” she said, helping you stand and brushing you off before checking you over for injuries.

“It’s alright, Mikasa, I was fine,” you said.

“Really?” she said dubiously.

“Yeah, it’s all good. Reiner was just teaching me about combat,” you said. She raised one perfect eyebrow.

“Is that so? Please, do tell me what teaching he was accomplishing by trying to kiss you,” she said.

“He was not doing anything of the sort! He was just telling me I should keep fighting and stuff. You know, basic encouragement,” you said, your face burning as you avoided Reiner’s gaze.

“Basic encouragement. Well, pinning your opponent to the ground and then proceeding to nearly kiss them isn’t a method I’ve ever heard of, but whatever works, I guess,” she said with a derisive snort.

“Stop, Mikasa, you’re being embarrassing,” you said, going over to pull Reiner to his feet. This time, he took your hand without ulterior motives, merely getting up beside you. Mikasa shot him a nasty glare, and he immediately let go. You found yourself wishing he had kept holding it.

“Mikasa! There you are! I was wondering where you went!” Sasha said, appearing and skidding to a stop beside the taller girl, whose face softened as she blushed.

“Hey, Sasha. Just had to deal with some issues,” Mikasa said, giving you and Reiner one last glance. Sasha noticed you and waved brightly, unaware of the tension between the three of you at the current moment.

“Y/N! Reiner! How are you guys?” she said.

“Doing good, Sasha. What about you?” you said.

“Spending time with Mikasa, so overall I can’t complain! Mika’s my new best friend, aren’t you?” she said, throwing her arm around Mikasa, who cleared her throat and crossed her arms.

“Yes. We are best friends,” she said. Sasha beamed.

“Aww, Mikasa, I thought we were best friends,” you said with a frown.

“I can have multiple. Now, I’ll leave you two to it, but Reiner, if I see you continuing to bother her, I’m going to beat you so hard, you’ll wish you were dead. But I won’t grant you that mercy. Instead, I’ll give you just enough time to heal before repeating the process, so that you are stuck in a constant limbo of agony and suffering until the end of your days. Don’t try and think about going unconscious, either. I’ll bring smelling salts with me,” Mikasa said.

“Noted,” Reiner squeaked out. You patted him on the shoulder.

“Don’t worry, Reiner, I won’t let her do that,” you said.

“Promise?” he said. It was strange to see the older boy so scared, but such was the effect Mikasa had on people. Ever since that day, so long ago, when she had killed the final kidnapper, something in her had snapped. She was no shy wallflower. She was quiet, true, but deadly, an ambush predator, as much a tiger as the stuffed animal she still kept with her.

“As long as you don’t actually bother me, yeah. But I, uh, didn’t mind earlier,” you said, biting your lip nervously. Reiner let out a low chuckle.

“Is that so?” he said.

“Maybe,” you said. He twirled the knife in his hand in a move dripping with casual arrogance and grace.

“Well,” he said, stalking towards you with a feral grin, “All you had to do was say something.”

As you and Reiner continued to spar, mostly ending up with you under him and him reprimanding you for something or another, you became aware of the prickling, uncomfortable sensation of a pair of eyes watching you.

Reiner began to lecture you about distractions, and ironically, as he did so, you became distracted, trying to find who was staring at you. It was not Mikasa, surprisingly. She was watching Sasha explain something. Tullia and Jean were busy “sparring,” although it mostly looked like shy, awkward flirting to you.

“Wow, Eren, you’re good at this!” Marco said as he was tossed into the ground. Despite the rough way Eren had literally just thrown him, he was still positive, springing to his feet to congratulate his partner, who was not even looking at him.

Your eyes met Eren’s, and you were surprised at the sharp rage in them as he glared at you. It was like he was cutting into you with his gaze. The contrast between this and the soft way he had looked at you on that roof in Trost was immense. You wondered what you had done wrong, but before you could think to ask, Reiner gently grabbed your jaw and turned your head to look back at him.

“Hey, I was just telling you not to be distracted, silly. Focus on me,” he said. That strange feeling in your stomach formed again, and you nodded submissively.

“Right, sorry,” you said, though you could not help but sneak one last glance at Eren. He noticed and scowled before turning away. You frowned in confusion and hurt before returning to Reiner, who had given you the knife again and was readying himself for you to charge at him.

“He didn’t bother you the rest of training, right?” Mikasa said, immediately swooping upon you as soon as sparring was over.

“He was fine. Hey, Eren, you good? You looked pretty mad earlier,” you said as you and Mikasa walked over to where he was putting away his knife. He gave you a tight smile.

“Perfectly okay. Are you guys ready for lunch?” he said, grabbing your hand and holding it in a near death-grip. You gave him a startled look at the display before brushing it off. If holding your hand made him feel better, well, you were hardly going to stop him.

“I am!” Sasha said.

“Where do you keep coming from?” you said. This was the second time she had seemingly manifested from thin air. She gave you a bright smile and wink.

“I’ve been here the whole time! Mikasa is so tall you can’t see me behind her,” she explained. You looked at Mikasa, who was, indeed, tall, and decided Sasha was probably right.

“That makes sense. Hey, speaking of Mikasa, we should have a girls’ night! The two of you, Tullia, and I. It would be so fun!” you said.

“Can I come?” Eren said.

“Eren, normally a girls’ night means only girls are attending,” Mikasa reminded him.

“You can have a boys’ night with Armin, Reiner, and Bertholdt,” you suggested. Eren thought about this for a second.

“Yeah, maybe, I guess,” he said, “But you guys will probably have more fun.”

“True!” Sasha chirped, “Guess you were born the wrong gender!”

“Better luck next time,” you said, patting him on the head with your free hand. He pouted but did not argue, perhaps knowing there was no point. You and Mikasa used to have frequent girls’ nights back in Shiganshina, sometimes even in his own house. He hadn’t been allowed to attend then, and he certainly wouldn’t be allowed now.

Though the Mess Hall was as packed as usual, everyone mostly stuck to their tables, which meant your usual seats were free. You sat as you normally did: Eren at the end of the table, you on his left, Mikasa across from you, Armin across from Eren, and...well, Tullia was normally in between Mikasa and Armin, but as of right now, she was nowhere to be found.

“Where’s Tullia?” Armin said, reading your mind.

“I think she took my seat!” Sasha said, pointing over at where Tullia sat next to Connie and across from Jean.

“You can take hers, Sasha, no big deal,” Eren said.

“Great, thanks guys!” Sasha said, squeezing in between Mikasa and Armin.

“Whose turn is it to get lunches today?” Mikasa said. You had a system where two of you would get meals for the rest of the table, with a whole schedule set up to ensure that it was fair and everyone had equal turns in the rotation. You did it in such a way in order to cut down on the length of the lines where the food was distributed.

“It was supposed to be Tullia and Eren, but since Tullia isn’t here...Sasha can go or someone can volunteer to take her shift,” Armin said, pulling out the piece of paper that had the master schedule on it.

“I’ll go,” you immediately said. If Sasha went, there was a good chance she’d end up eating everyone else’s lunches on the way back to the table.

“Sounds good. Make sure to get me the soup without carrots, please,” Mikasa said.

“Of course. Can’t have you getting an allergic reaction,” you said with a nod. Mikasa had discovered she was deathly allergic to carrots early on in your training, and ever since then, the cooks had made sure to make two variants of each dish: one with carrots and one without.

“I saw you beating up Marco during sparring. He’s a nice guy, you know. No need to go that hard!” you said with a laugh as you got into line with Eren. He gave you a sheepish grin, rubbing the back of his neck.

“I just get carried away a little sometimes,” he said. You smiled and flicked him on the forehead.

“I know. I’ve seen some of the bruises you gave to poor Oskar,” you said, remembering your days back in Shiganshina and how Eren had mercilessly beaten the rude boy.

“Okay, but he deserved it. You’ve gotta admit to that much, at least,” he said, grabbing a couple of trays and beginning to load the bowls of soup onto them. You did the same with a nod.

“Agreed, but we’re not in Shiganshina anymore. You don’t need to hurt anybody. We’re all friends here,” you said.

“I know, I know,” he said.

“Speaking of friends...Reiner!” you said as you passed by where the blond boy was sitting with Bertholdt. He immediately straightened when he saw you, giving you a wide grin.

“Y/N! Long time no see, huh?” he said. You giggled shyly.

“It’s been a bit,” you said.

“And how have you been in the ten minutes since we saw each other last?” he said.

“Prettyyy good,” you said, drawing out the last syllables of each word and batting your eyelashes at him. If possible, his grin grew bigger, and a light blush formed on his cheeks.

“Good to hear. Say, I was wondering if you —”

“Come on, Y/N. The soup’s getting cold,” Eren interjected, glaring at Reiner, who seemed taken aback by his hostility. You were similarly surprised. On the whole, Eren quite liked Reiner, so to see him being rude to the older boy was out of character indeed.

“Yeah, I guess it is. See you later, Reiner!” you said before turning to Eren as soon as you were out of Reiner and Bertholdt’s earshot, “That was silly of you.”

“What was?” he said, giving you a faux-innocent look. You nudged him in the side with your elbow, since both of your hands were full with food for your friends.

“Being snippy with Reiner,” you said.

“I wasn’t being snippy with him. I was just reminding you that we have friends that need their soup,” he said. You shook your head in amusement at his obvious denial.

“Whatever, Eren. You know you’re still my best friend, right? I’m not replacing you with Reiner or anything,” you said. He smiled at this.

“Yeah, I know,” he said as you sat down, passing out food to everyone.

Despite the fact that he claimed he knew that you were best friends above all else, Eren was still overwhelmingly clingy the entire rest of lunch. If his hand was free, it was holding yours. As soon as he was finished inhaling his food, his head was resting on your shoulder, soft hair tickling against your neck as you ate.

“What’s gotten into you?” you said as he began to doze off.

“I’m tired and you're comfortable,” he said.

“Alright, then,” you said dubiously. If you had been a little more observant, you would’ve seen the way the Reiner’s eyes widened upon noticing you, or the smirk Eren flashed towards him at this development, but you were too focused on the story Sasha was regaling you all with to care.

After lunch, you were going to start with the most exciting part of military training, in your opinion at least: horse riding. You would be assigned your horses and, if you became Scouts, would get to keep them for the entirety of your career. If not, they would be sent to the Scouts without you as backups in case something went wrong on an expedition (and it almost always did).

“Do you think we’ll get to name them?” Connie said as you walked towards the stables.

“I hope so! I already have an awesome name picked out!” Tullia said.

“What?” Jean said.

“Jean,” she said seriously. You snickered, both at the name and at the horrified look on the boy’s face.

“You wouldn’t,” Jean said.

“I might,” she said.

“Cheer up, Jean. This is a good thing! She’s saying she likes you so much she wants to name her horse after you!” Marco said halfheartedly, though he was not fooling anyone.

“Don’t worry, Jean, I think that horseface of yours is very handsome,” Tullia said before immediately turning bright red, her jaw dropping and her eyes widening at her audacity. Jean had a similar reaction, though you had a feeling that it was because he did not know how to react to compliments, especially not compliments from the girl he had a crush on.

“CADETS!” Commandant Shadis bellowed. You all paused your banter to salute at him. He nodded at you in approval before turning to his assistant, the woman that had been your examiner during the aptitude testing.

“We will be assigning everyone their horses today! Then you will partner up and help each other adjust to riding,” she said.

Though most of the horses were a plain yet rich chocolate brown color, you and Krista both got white ones, and Tullia got a chestnut. Eren’s horse was a very dark brown, nearly black but not quite, and Armin’s had a wide white blaze on her face.

“Buchwald! I’m naming you Buchwald!” Jean said in delight, patting his horse on the neck. The horse did not seem to mind this name, perhaps recognizing Jean as one of his own species. You would not be surprised.

“Juan,” Tullia decided, smirking and kissing her fiery-colored horse on the muzzle. Jean made a noise that was between a gasp and a shriek of offense at the name, but Tullia raised an eyebrow at him, quieting him immediately.

“What do you think of Tyrant?” Eren asked you.

“That’s a really cool name. I’m naming mine Mage,” you said, stroking the white horse on the face. She began to chew on your hair in content, and you halfheartedly tried to push her away.

“Do you want to be my partner, Y/N?” Reiner said, coming up beside you, holding his horse’s reins in one hand and giving you an expectant look.

“No, we’re going to be partners, right?” Eren said emphatically.

“Uh —”

“She can answer for herself,” Reiner said, cutting you off smoothly.

“She’s my partner already,” Eren said, crossing his arms stubbornly.

“I’m, uh, going to go be with Connie,” you said, leading Mage after you in search of the boy with the close-cropped hair. Though you two were not close, you always enjoyed hanging out with him. His energy and humor were delightful, and it would be a nice break from the drama of Eren and Reiner.

Thankfully, he had not partnered up with anyone yet, and he was more than delighted to pair up with his “wife.” You gave him a leg up before using a tree stump to swing into Mage’s saddle. It was a strange sensation at first, but once you adjusted, you found you rather liked it.

“Yo! Mrs. Springer!” Connie said, halting beside you once you had settled in the saddle.

“Yes, Mr. Springer?” you said. He gave you a wide grin.

“Let’s race!” he said, taking off before you even had the chance to respond. You watched him go in awe.

“So much for being partners with Connie,” you muttered as he vanished into the distance.

“Did he ditch you?” Armin said, a soft, fond smile on his face as took Connie’s spot next to you.

“Yup. Asked me if I wanted to race and then left before I could even respond,” you said with a laugh, “No clue where he is. He could be all the way in Karanes District at this point, honestly.”

“I can be your new partner, if you want,” he suggested.

“Sounds good. No racing?” you said.

“No racing,” he agreed.

You and Armin walked around the perimeter of the field you were practicing in, allowing your horses to stretch their necks down as you talked about random things. You took the time to observe how everyone else was doing.

Connie had returned and was now involving poor Marco in his schemes, galloping around wildly as the freckled boy chased after him. Mikasa and Sasha had had a similar idea to you and Armin, relaxing on horseback as they chatted. Tullia was either making fun of or complimenting Jean, judging by how red his face and ears were. Eren and Reiner were glaring at each other.

“What’s up with those two?” you said, pointing at them. If anybody had a chance of knowing, it was quiet, observant Armin who shared a dorm with them and knew Eren better than anyone, bar you.

“Jealousy, I think,” he said.

“Really? But they’re so close, almost like siblings. You think jealousy could cause them to fight?” you said. Armin shrugged.

“Well, you forget that siblings often fight as it is. And yes, for what it’s worth, I do think jealousy could motivate them to be angry at each other. It’s a strong emotion, and if my hunch is right, they have a valid reason to fight. They’re upset because they both want the same thing, and it’s a pretty damn great thing,” he said.

“What is it?” you said. Armin gave you a secretive smile.

“I can’t tell you that. I’m sure one day, you’ll find out.”

You had not had a girls’ night in a while, so when Mikasa and Sasha entered you and Tullia’s room, wearing their pajamas and with hairbrushes in hand, you felt excitement creeping over you. You had missed this, missed the way it felt to just be with your friends and relax and not have to worry about jealousy or fighting or anything dumb like that.

“I can’t braid your hair anymore, Mikasa,” you said with a frown as you combed your fingers through her short, silky hair.

“Sorry, Y/N,” she said, and you could tell she was genuinely sad.

“You can braid mine!” Sasha volunteered.

“Thanks, Sash!” you said, “Okay, sit in between my legs and turn around.”

“Ooh, I’ll do yours!” Tullia said.

“Yeah, and I can do yours, Tullia, since nobody can do mine,” Mikasa offered.

“YES!” Sasha cheered as you got into position for the braiding train. For a while, you all were silent, focused on your tasks completely, until Tullia broke the silence.

“We should play Truth or Dare,” she said. You took a hair tie and tied off one of the fishtail braids you had done on Sasha before starting the other.

“Sounds fun,” Mikasa said, “Who wants to go first?”

“It was Tullia’s idea,” you said. The girl was currently making some elaborate braided chignon out of your hair, leaving a few delicate pieces out to frame your face.

“Excellent,” Tullia said, and you could almost feel the vicious smirk on her face, “You’ve fallen right into my trap. Y/N, truth or dare?”

“I have a bad feeling about this. Truth,” you said.

“Aww, boo. Okay, do you have a crush on someone?” she said.

“That was lame!” Sasha said.

“Yeah, nothing more creative than that? Petra would be disappointed,” you said.

“Answer the question,” she snapped, pulling on your hair a little too harshly. You yelped.

“Fine! Uh, Reiner’s kind of nice, I guess,” you said. Everyone was silent for a second before they all, in unison, screamed at you.

“REINER?”

“Sina, deafen me, why don’t you? Yes, Reiner. Reiner Braun,” you said, covering your ears, though it was a bit too late for that.

“She’s still in denial, then. I thought after everything that happened after the fall of Wall Maria, she’d figure it out, but here we are,” Mikasa said.

“I almost feel bad. I mean, this is embarrassing on her part!” Sasha said.

“She’s projecting onto Reiner at the moment, but we all know what’s going to end up happening,” Tullia assured everyone.

“Huh? What are you guys talking about?” you said.

“Just how it’s so obvious you and Eren have something going on, you’re just too blind to realize it,” Sasha said casually.

“What? That’s not true! Mikasa, tell her it’s not true!” you said indignantly.

“Oh, it’s so true. It’s been like that for as long as I can remember. You’re best friends with Armin and I. You’re something more than that with Eren, and no, I do not mean mega best friends,” Mikasa said, like the traitor she was. You scowled, though you could not move lest you mess up Tullia’s hard work.

“Y/N, tell me, honestly. That day on the roof...did nothing happen between you two? If not, then we’ll believe you when you say that you and him are just friends. If so, well, there’s your answer,” Tullia said. They all waited expectantly as you cast about for something to say.

The rooftop. You wondered what could’ve happened if the MP hadn’t interrupted you. You had been caught in some kind of daze, drunk on Eren’s presence, on the way he looked at you. You didn’t know if you would’ve been able to stop yourself if you had shifted only another few inches closer.

It had been different than it had with Reiner earlier today. Reiner had been just as close if not closer to you than Eren had been that day, but while kissing Reiner would have been a choice, kissing Eren felt like a compulsion. Eren was magnetic, drawing you in ever closer, like it was some law of nature that you ought to be together.

And this scared you. Eren was your best friend. What kind of monster were you? What kind of person fell in love with their best friend? Was this even love, or was it something else? It felt like love. It looked like love. It must be love, but you didn’t understand it, didn’t understand how it could’ve happened. When had you fallen in love with him? Or had you never fallen in love with him at all? Because this was the truth of the matter: you had been born in love. Loving him was as easy as if you had done it before, like it was some deep-rooted instinct of yours — love Eren Jaeger.

“No. Like he said, we just talked. Nothing happened between us. Nothing at all.”

Whether or not your friends believed you, they did not bring it up again. You all continued to play the game, laughing increasingly harder at the wild things you dared each other to do. Mikasa confessed her crush on Sasha, Tullia somehow managed to sneak into the boys’ barracks and draw a moustache on Bertholdt without getting caught, and you wrote an anonymous love note to the Commandant.

Finally, you all fell asleep. Mikasa and Sasha cuddled together on the bottom bunk, and you and Tullia took the top, a pillow in between you to ensure you didn’t kick each other or anything in your sleep. Your stomach hurt from laughing, and though you were exhausted, you could not sleep.

“You’re still up,” Tullia said after a few minutes.

“Yeah, I am,” you said, wondering why she had said anything.

“I know you were lying earlier,” she said, “I’ve known you long enough to know what your tells are. Your ears turn red when you lie.”

“And they were red?”

“As red as Juan’s coat.”

You rolled over to face the wall, signifying the end of your conversation, though Tullia did not take the hint. You covered your head with your pillow to muffle her words, but it wasn’t enough, because it was no longer just her speaking but your own subconscious as well.

“You can pretend and lie all you want, but in the end, it’s only going to hurt you more. If you lose him without telling him how you really feel, it’s going to kill you inside. And what if he moves on? What if he finds another girl?”

At your silence, she scoffed. You heard the sheets rustle as she turned over, though she managed to get one final thing in before you both drifted off.

“If you really like Reiner, I’ll support you, but I think you need to reflect on which one makes you truly, genuinely happy, because that’s what you deserve and nothing less. Don’t worry about hurting anybody’s feelings — that’s inevitable. Just...make the right choice, okay?”

“Thanks, Tullia,” you said quietly, “I’ll try.”

But you did not try. As your training went on, you avoided the question completely, choosing to remain just friends with both boys and ignoring the heartache you felt when you looked at Eren, because who were you to jeopardize everything you had? So you pined for him from afar, found relief in soft brushes of hands and friendly hugs and legs pressed against one another in the Mess Hall.

As Tullia had warned you, one day you would come to regret this decision. And you were no stranger to regret, but this time hurt the most of all, because it was regret and guilt and grief all wrapped into one horrible, terrible stab in the heart.

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