#also the first day i was there i still had the dark mark drawn on my arm from a previous emo breakdown
Note
Can I request Tav and astarion but they get trapped together and astarion has to feed but feels like Tav offering isn’t really giving consent since they are trapped and he thinks they feel obligated. Bonus points if they’re also bickering and pining for other
this was so much fun to write! i may have gotten a little carried away but i hope you enjoy!! requests are still open if anyone is interested<3 i'm really enjoying writing these and am open for more ideas!!
✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*
trapped
pairing ; astarion x gender neutral!reader
summary ; a wild treasure hunt leads to an unfortunate situation where you find yourself stuck in a cave-in with Astarion. / ao3
other info ; wyll, karlach and gale get special roles in this because i physically cannot stop myself from including other companions in the background. no real spoilers for the game so you're free to read wherever you are in the game!!
warnings ; vampire feeding, blood mention, vague mention of Astarion's past, general conversation surrounding consent (but everything is consensual because that's hot)
word count ; 5.9k (again. went a little wild)
You have no idea how long you have been walking for. It feels like days though you are certain it was only a few hours. The lack of sunlight is starting to get to you and the cramped cave system you are walking through is really not where you wanted to be today.
Was it a little ridiculous to be chasing a lead you found on a note on a dead traveller? Probably. Did you have to convince everyone that it wouldn't be a waste of their time? Yes. But here you are, travelling in the dark to hunt down buried treasure.
Karlach was more than happy to join you, in fact she was the first one who volunteered to be part of the “treasure hunting team”, as she called it. She managed to get Wyll involved and you were happy with this group. As you were getting ready to leave you had a last minute addition to the team - Astarion. Why he wanted to join you trekking through a damp cave, you had no idea. You weren’t going to ask, either.
So, here you are in the depths of a cave system, following a badly drawn map that should lead you all to hidden treasure. It took you way too long to get to this location and the day is already drawing to a close. You are certain you weren’t going to make it back to camp before nightfall. This treasure has to be worth it.
Through flooded areas and tight walkways, the deeper you get into the cave the quicker your hopes that this treasure would be easy to find crumbles. On the map it looks simple, yet the actual cave was difficult to navigate and you are not as prepared as you thought you would be. Perhaps you should have taken the spare rope from Halsin before you left camp. Karlach spends the time picking up interesting rocks she comes across, rushing over to show you with a grin on her face and a list of places to put it back at camp. You have a few rocks she gave to you in your pocket and you are glad that her optimism never falters the longer you travel. Wyll has marked arrows on the walls to keep track of where you have been, which is an idea that didn't even cross your mind until you noticed him doing it. And Astarion is… complaining.
Maybe complaining is the wrong word. It's more like he has been announcing loudly how he thought this would be an easy task to complete. He didn't sign up to be wading through knee deep cave water or scrambling over rocks to get to the next area. Neither did you, but you aren’t complaining about it.
You have managed to drown out his comments for the most part, keeping your focus on following the map and making sure not to get lost. There have been a few times where you almost walked on some loose stone and went plummeting down into the depths of the cave and you really didn't fancy getting stuck down here. You have also noticed the further you went into the cave the more dust and debris that fell from the ceiling. A sinking feeling begins to settle in your stomach and you approach each step with caution.
“Personally I think this map is leading us to a dead end,” Astarion says as he slinks up next to you, ignoring how lost in focus you were. “We should cut our losses and return back to camp before nightfall, don’t you agree?”
The dust from the ceiling drops in front of you again as you pause, reaching an arm out to stop Astarion in his tracks. “Be quiet, would you?”
“Everything alright?” Wyll asks from behind, hand reaching for his rapier in case something jumps out to attack.
Either something was down here with you or the cave ceiling isn’t as strong as you would like. You didn't know which thought was worse. Turning back to Wyll and Karlach, you shake your head slightly. “Be on your guard. Something’s off.”
“This is what I’ve been saying for the past five minutes. Have you seriously not been listening to me?” Astarion asks as you continue walking at a slower pace now, acutely aware of every foreign noise that doesn’t come from your group.
“Not really. I’m trying to keep us alive here,” you reply quietly, eyes darting from the floor to your surroundings in quick succession.
You stop in your steps as you hear the rumbling grow louder, though Astarion keeps talking even after you shush him again. It’s a rolling noise, one that grows the more you focus on it; a sound of rock against rock and a low rumble from above. You cast your gaze upwards and spot the beginnings of a large crack splitting the ceiling. Like pressure on ice, it splits into several off shoots before crumbling beneath whatever weight was on it.
You quickly pull Astarion towards you, dragging him away from the collapsing ceiling as you both fall to the floor with a thud. In an instant, your surroundings grow darker as a wall of stone and rubble barricades you and Astarion from Wyll and Karlach. The dust settles from the sudden upheaval of rock and the noise you have been hearing stops. Shit.
“Are you both alright?” Wyll calls out from behind the rubble and you can hear the sound of stone grating against stone which only cements your idea that this could be an early grave for you both if you didn't think fast.
You glance over at Astarion who is dusting himself off, rubbing at his elbow in a way that makes you assume he landed on it wrong. “We’re alive… just.”
“Does the map show any other ways to get to you? I’m not certain we can budge all this stone…” Wyll asks as you hear the sound of metal against the stone and a disappointed sigh from Karlach. You sit upright, grabbing the map from where it fell onto the ground and frown. It was a one way system, looping back around the way you came once you got to where the treasure was. This pathway is the only way in and out of the cave. You are stuck.
“So, uh… bad news… There’s no other way around,” you reply. The silence that follows on their end is not a good sign, however it is quickly broken by Astarion.
“What?!” He looks at you in dismay, his face falling at the thought of being stuck here. “You cannot be serious.”
“We’ll find a way to get you guys out! Don’t even stress!” Karlach yells. Her voice gets quiet but you can still hear her. “Do you think they’re stressed, Wyll?”
You take a moment to assess the cave-in, trying to budge a few rocks out of place but nothing moves. Perhaps with enough force they could be displaced, but you don’t have anything on that level right now.
“Wyll? Do you have anything that could push the rocks away?” you ask, hoping he has something in or on him that could force the rocks out of place.
“I don’t…” he pauses for a moment, before you hear him click his fingers together as an idea forms. “But Gale does. I know the spell you are hinting at. We can go back and get him?” he suggests, and you run the time it would take for them to get back to camp and back here again in your head. They would be back by early morning at the earliest… Which means you will need to spend the night in a cold, slightly damp cave. You give Astarion a look.
“Don’t look at me like that. I’m not going to dig our way out. My hands are way too delicate for that,” he says, turning his back to the problem at hand.
“Gale seems to be our only way out, which means we may need to spend the night here…” you tell him.
“Gale? Our only hope? What is he going to do, talk the rocks to death?” He rolls his eyes. “Surely there’s another way out?”
“There isn’t.” You sigh, rubbing at your temples as you begin to feel a stress headache forming. “And he can use spells, Astarion. Gale can shatter the rocks or something. They’re too tightly packed to move them normally. We’re stuck here until he can sort it out.”
“Great. Wonderful, actually. I’ve always wanted to spend a night in a cave. Thanks for this, really!” His voice drips with sarcasm and you have to physically hold yourself back from getting annoyed at him.
“I didn't personally cause this cave in! You think I want to be stuck here with you like this? Gods, you are infuriating.”
Before the argument could escalate, Wyll calls out from behind the wall of rocks that he and Karlach are going to head back to camp and grab Gale. They’ll be as quick as they can, he promises. It gives you some reassurance that you will not be stuck here for too long with Astarion.
The sound of your fellow companions leaving fills you with anxiety as the clock begins to tick on getting you both out alive. This is not how you planned this trip to go and you are starting to wonder if this was even worth it at this point. Astarion didn't seem to think so.
"For your information, I am not sleeping on the floor with no bedroll. This is expensive fabric, I’m not ruining it.” Astarion gestures to his outfit as you begin to set yourself down on the ground, ready to call it a day.
“We’ve camped in worse places, I don’t understand why you’re complaining so much about this,” you say, rummaging through your bag and thanking the Gods you packed some food for yourself.
“At least at camp I have my tent. And all my belongings. And comfort. Do I need to go on?” He shifts in his stance, looking down the tunnel to avoid your gaze.
You glare at him. “Okay, fine, I guess this isn’t an ideal place to rest. But I don’t want to travel too far in case we get lost. And then we’ll probably die down here. Do you want that?”
He sighs but doesn’t make a comment. You take it as a win.
After placing the contents of your bag onto the ground you come to two conclusions. One: the floor is far too damp to start a fire which means you are going to spend the next few hours cold. Two: you have enough food for yourself, but you aren’t sure if Astarion bought anything of use with him. You didn't see him pack much before he said he was joining you. He is still standing when you look over to him again.
“Are you going to stand all night?” you ask as he nods, still avoiding your gaze.
“Like I said. Expensive fabric. I’m not ruining it because someone got us trapped in here,” he replies and you roll your eyes. Wordlessly, you unbuckle your cloak from your shoulders and place it down on the floor for him. The dampness of the floor is most likely going to ruin your nice and expensive cloak, but at least it will stop him complaining. Hopefully.
He looks from you to the cloak and back again, confusion crossing his face and disappearing as quickly as it arrived. “What’s that for?”
“Just sit down. Please.” You start to reorganise the contents of your back, returning the tinderbox and an almost empty waterskin but keeping out the food you swiped before you left. When you look back up, you see Astarion has sat down atop your cloak. You hold back a smile.
The silence that falls over the both of you is broken by droplets of water or the sound of other vaguely ominous cave noises. If your timing is right you are certain it was now early evening. Hopefully Karlach and Wyll have left the cave by now.
“Did you bring any food?” you ask after a little while passes. It’s only when the question leaves your lips that you realise it is a stupid one. The look Astarion gives you only enhances your point.
“Yes, actually. I have three live rabbits tucked neatly away in my bag in case I fancied a snack,” he responds, opening up his pack with a flourish. “Did you want one? I’m so happy to share.” A few books and his trusty thieves tools were the only things you spot before he shoves his bag to the side with a frown. “Of course I didn't bring any food.”
You feel bad holding a stale bread roll in your hand as he tells you that and you lower it down slightly, letting him continue his rant.
“I was considering going to hunt down a cave bat or something. Not what I wanted, but I guess a life of “adventure”-” he says the word with exaggerated air quotes around them, “means that I bury the idea that I’ll ever get a lavish meal again.” He crosses his arms in annoyance.
“You shouldn’t eat a bat. You could get sick. Rabies, or something like that,” you tell him, though you aren’t sure your fun fact is a welcomed sight right now. The look on his face tells you that it isn't. “Halsin told me that after I tried to convince him to keep a family of bats that were living near one of the spots we set up camp a while ago…”
Astarion blinks, unsure of how he is supposed to react to that nugget of information. “Now my meal options have been reduced to nothing. Thanks. You’re truly a beacon of hope.”
An idea pings into your mind as you take in how irritated he is getting, most likely from the lack of food on his part. Not that you have been keeping tabs on when he would feed but from your calculations it had been a while. The last time he fed on you was a week or so ago and you still felt the sting of his fangs against your neck even now. It is an uncomfortable sensation and you were certain that it would only happen again in dire circumstances.
This feels like a dire circumstance…
“You can feed on me if you want.” The words come out quickly before you have a chance to think too deeply about the implications of it. You take a mouthful of bread to stop yourself from taking back the offer.
The irritation on his face dissipates into a softer look, one you didn't recognize. His usual quick remarks have vanished at your suggestion and it takes him a good minute to respond. The minute feels like hours to you as you start to regret even offering. Was it weird? Did you say it in a strange way?
“You don’t… I mean, I’m sure I’ll manage until we get back to camp.” He waves nonchalantly though you are unsure if he really means it.
“No offence but I have noticed you lagging behind a little lately…” you begin, unable to hold your gaze on him. “I just assumed, well, y’know… Plus I have a lot of blood to spare, so I don’t mind.” You cringe a little at that last sentence, wondering why you said it like that.
“It’s really not a big deal, I’m perfectly fine! If need be I can always go and find…” he grimaces at the next few words that leave his mouth, “a cave rat or something.”
You aren’t sure if you should feel offended at how he hasn’t jumped on the opportunity to feed from a person. Maybe it is because of how little you allowed him to feed on you. Maybe he hates you and would rather drink blood from a rat than you. You push that thought away with a frown.
“Astarion, I’m offering this to you if you need to,” you say as you set down your own food. “I’d rather you do it while I’m awake this time.” You see that he is thinking of more ways to put barriers between him and feeding on you and you wish he could be straightforward with you and say no.
“You’re all the way over there and like I said before, I don’t want to get my clothes wet,” he says and you can’t help but laugh at that. “What?”
“You can tell me no, it’s okay. I just thought I’d offer seeing as I really doubt you’ll find many cave rats around.”
He’s quiet for a moment and you can’t work out what he’s thinking. With what little you know about Astarion and his past you can’t help but assume he hasn’t had that many opportunities to say no to things.
He considers his words, opening and closing his mouth a few times before sighing, looking at you with a soft frown. “I don’t want you to feel like you are obligated to do this considering our circumstance.”
You blink in confusion at that, unsure why he feels that way. You wouldn't have offered if you didn't feel comfortable in allowing him to feed, so why was he convinced you were doing this because there was no other option?
“We haven’t built up much of a feeding rapport, that’s all! We haven’t… done this much. It still feels new.” He looks away and it clicks in your head at once - he’s nervous. You are also incredibly nervous about this, but if it means he is at the top of his game afterwards then the pain would be a small price to pay for it.
“I have no idea how else I’m supposed to say this: I’m giving you permission to feed on me, Astarion.” You want to know what he is thinking as your words hang in the air. You want to tell him that this is you telling him it’s okay, you’re wanting this just as much as he needs it.
He waits a moment, like he is expecting you to tell him you're joking or change your mind but it doesn't happen. When he realises you mean this and aren't saying it for the sake of it, he gives you a nod.
"Alright. Only if you're sure," he says quietly, moving over on your cloak to give you room beside him. You move over to sit next to him, glad to be off the cold floor and sitting on something that wasn't as uncomfortable.
"Is this alright? Do you need me to be in a certain position?" you ask quickly, shifting yourself from sitting on your knees to crossing your legs.
"It's easier if you lay down," he replies, quickly adding, "for the blood flow."
"Right. That makes sense." You check to see how much room you have of your cloak behind you before shuffling forward, coming face to face with Astarion for a moment. The sudden closeness causes you to stop in your tracks for a moment, holding his gaze for a moment longer than what is normal.
It's strange how you never really see Astarion without his guard up. Whenever you two bicker it was always with his signature smile on his face and a carefree laugh after each comment. But seeing him here and now with the gentle furrow of his brows and the soft lines etched along his face you can't help but try to memorise it all. Without even realising you found yourself moving a hand up to brush some hair from his face, stopping yourself once it rested ever so lightly against his cheek. You are about to pull away until you feel him lean into the touch, something you had not planned on happening.
The sound of a loose rock falling a little way away causes the moment to break as you pull away from him quickly, ready to move in case there was another cave in.
In an instant, the facade he has is pulled back up. "Are you trying to get me to starve to my death?" he asks once you have realised there was no chance of another incident. You laugh a little in response, cheeks warming up at the moment the two of you just shared.
"Wanted the last thing I saw to be something good. You know, in case you drink all of my blood and I die," you tease, before laying back on your cloak. The reality of what was about to happen is starting to settle in now and you keep your focus on the ceiling above you, not on Astarion.
"I promise you I won't kill you. I don't have any way of getting you back and I'd rather not have to explain to the others what happened," he replies, hands moving to either side of your head to hold himself up. He's at an angle, legs staying to one side of you. It's a little awkward and you can tell it's not ideal for him.
"That's good to hear! I do bring a scroll of revivify with me everywhere so we have a backup plan… just in case." It is hard to keep your gaze on the ceiling now as Astarion leans over you. Your heart pounds heavily against your chest and you cannot work out if it's because you know you are about to lose blood and it was working to keep it flowing or perhaps because of something else you didn't want to admit to yourself.
"Are you ready?" he asks softly, and you can already anticipate the sharp sting of his fangs piercing your skin. You give him a nod and turn your head to the side, exposing your neck to him.
He leans in and you can feel his breath against your neck. It takes everything in you to not turn to look at him, even seeing him so close out of the corner of your eye was enough to redden your cheeks. You hope he didn't notice.
The sudden pain is sharp and takes you off guard, reaching to grab onto Astarion's shoulder tightly to try and take your mind off of it. It's not as bad as the first time he fed from you, but it certainly isn't any better. He shifts positions as you see his legs now straddling you, and if anyone were to suddenly burst down the wall of rock it would be a rather embarrassing encounter for everyone. You forgot how intimate this whole ordeal could be.
You close your eyes as the pain subsides, now giving way to a feeling of numbness that crashes over you. You're very aware of the feeling of his lips against your neck and it would be so easy to let yourself imagine this was something else entirely. But then you move and the discomfort of your blood being removed from your body kicks back in and you have to stop yourself from allowing him to take too much from you. You give his shoulder a soft squeeze, and when there's no response from him you are forced to find your voice.
"Hey…" You mumble, tightening your grip on his shoulder. "Astarion..?"
He does nothing except press himself closer to you, savouring every last drop he could get. Black spots begin to fill your vision and with what little strength you had in you, you smack your arm down into his side to get him to stop.
He pulls away from your neck at the impact, blood smeared across his lips and his pupils dilated - you can hardly see the red anymore. Would it be odd to say that he looked so very handsome like this?
"Shit," he says breathlessly, "might have over indulged there. Sorry."
You give him a weak laugh, feeling your head spin at the sudden blood loss. "S'alright. Just glad you didn't kill me."
His eyes glance back at your neck as you speak, and when he leans you worry that he was going in for round two. You are taken aback when he licks across the area he had just bitten. If you weren't so dizzy you would have questioned him as he sits back, still straddling your waist.
"I'm not about to waste perfectly good blood," he says, noticing the confusion on your face. "Are you alright, though? You look a little pale."
You give him a thumbs up, still laying down. "All good. Missing some blood, that's all."
He nods, watching as you close your eyes again. You could quite easily drift off to sleep right now, the dizziness and the general feeling of not being right only adding to the need to rest. When you don't feel Astarion move off of you, you open one of your eyes to make sure he was okay.
"Are you alright?" you ask, catching him deep in thought.
"Oh, yes, I'm great. Wonderful. Absolutely perfect," he replies too quickly for it to be truthful. You frown, sitting up slowly to be at eye level with him.
"Is there more blood there still?" you ask him, watching as his eyes keep going back to your neck. "If there is, you should get it."
His touch is so soft you cannot discern if he was cleaning up some blood on your neck or if it is a kiss. When it happens again you realise he isn't cleaning up your neck but kissing over the spot he had just bitten. It is a strange feeling and one you didn't expect to feel after being drained from your blood, but as he moves along your neck leaving faint kisses in his trail you wonder if perhaps he had similar feelings towards you as you did him. You have always been happy to push those feelings down, keeping your focus on the main goal at hand. But here, trapped in a cave with no one to bug you to keep on track, maybe you could indulge yourself this once.
Astarion pulls back from your neck to look at you, his lips are still tinted a softer red from your blood and you find yourself staring at them for a little too long. Gently, you place your hand back on his cheek, smiling when he leans into the touch again. His hand moves to cover yours and you are still in shock at how soft his movements are.
The gap between you both closes slowly and you are aware of what this would lead to. Playful remarks and comments about hooking up were one thing, but this was not playing out like how you imagined it would. You didn't picture yourself being stuck in a cave with him, for starters. You want to ask him if this was okay, if this was even allowed.
You opened your mouth to speak and are suddenly caught off guard by the sound of more rocks falling elsewhere, echoing through the cave. The sudden sound causes you to flinch as you both turn to look in the direction it came from, further along the tunnel. At least it wasn't the way you came, you thought.
Astarion looks back at you after a moment and clears his throat, sitting back to put some distance between you both.
"You should get some rest. I'll, uh, keep watch in case the others turn up," he says quickly, climbing off of your lap in a clumsy manner. You can't help but feel slightly sad at the loss of his touch, but sleep was begging for you to join it.
"Wake me if anything happens," you tell him as you lay back down, already closing your eyes. You don't hear his response as sleep greets you with open arms.
Sounds of your name being called over and over again wakes you up from your slumber. Your head hurts and you feel as if you've been fighting fifty different battles and didn't win one of them. There was a pressure on your chest and as you come to you are met with a mess of white hair laying on you, Astarion's arms wrapped tightly around your midriff. You smile softly at the scene, hand moving to brush through his hair slowly. He hums in response but the moment is broken by your names being called again.
"Are you both still alive?" It's Wyll, you note, which only means he and Karlach had either gotten lost and returned back or they had Gale with them.
"We're still here!" you call back, still groggy from sleep. "Is Gale with you?"
Gale's voice is heard next and you have never been so happy to hear him speak. "The one and only!"
"Thank the Gods. Gale, I promise you that I will buy you whatever you want when we get to Baldur's Gate, just please tell me you have a way to get us out of here," you say, hoping that he had good news with him.
Astarion stirs from all the loud conversation, pressing himself closer to you in an attempt to drown out the noise. You move your hand from his head as you try to sit yourself up. It doesn't work.
Gale continues speaking. "I have a way to get you both out, don't you worry. I will need to ask you both to stand as far back as possible. I mean it. Far. Back."
You give Astarion a shake of his shoulder, trying to wake him. "Hey. Get up. We're almost out of here."
"This is not a good time to wake me up," he grumbles, swatting your hand away with a groan. "Too early."
"Gale is literally on the other side ready to blow this wall of rocks up. Wake up." You continue to shake him awake, ignoring the groans of protest.
He turns to look up at you with pleading eyes. "He can wait five more minutes. Please?"
You want to say yes, to give in and allow himself a moment of comfort. But your back hurts from laying on rock for hours and you want nothing more than to sit in your own tent and get some fresh air. You sit up quickly, causing Astarion to lose his place on your chest and sit up with you.
"I cannot believe this betrayal," he exclaims dramatically, giving you a half-asleep but playful glare. "Being this pretty doesn't come easy, you know. I need my sleep."
"You don't even sleep," you mumble, ignoring how your head sways as you push yourself up to your feet. "And you're pretty enough already." You blame the aches and pains for that last comment, though it doesn't seem to go past Astarion as quickly as you wish it did.
He grins. "You think I'm pretty?"
"Shut up and move your things. I want to get back to camp." You begin to pack away your belongings, shoving things back into your pack and waiting for Astarion to do the same. He picks up your cloak and gives it a quick brush off before putting it on himself. You're too busy putting distance between yourself and the rocks to even notice this. He slides up next to you after a moment, arm wrapping around your shoulder with a grin.
"Okay, I think you're good to go!" you yell, hoping Gale can hear you through the wall. You get confirmation almost immediately afterwards.
You feel Astarion lean towards you as you wait. "I think we should get trapped together more often. Who knows what else it could lead to?"
"More puncture holes in my neck, probably," you mumble in response. He laughs, his lips meeting your neck again just under the place where he drank from you hours ago.
"But you're so delectable," he whispers and you glare at him. The blush rising on your cheeks tells him you aren't mad.
With an almighty crash of thunder, the rocks that made up the wall you have been trapped behind suddenly disperse, the larger ones shattering and the smaller ones turning into dust. You cover your face at the impact and when your ears stop ringing you turn to see Gale, Wyll and Karlach on the other side.
Karlach immediately runs over, arms outstretched and embracing both you and Astarion without thinking.
"I'm so glad you both aren't dead. I have no idea how I'd break the news to Scratch and the Cub! Or everyone else, I suppose," she says once she lets go of you both, your clothes slightly singed by the warmth emanating from her.
"Did you find the treasure?" Gale asks when the three of you walk back to him and Wyll and is only slightly disappointed when you shake your head no. "Ah, well, nothing lost then! I'm sure there's plenty of other treasure to be found. Hopefully not in caves, though. Might I suggest avoiding them in the future?"
"Suggestion taken. I miss sunlight," you reply, feeling Astarion's hand move from your shoulder to the small of your back.
"We had fun though, didn't we? A cave-in can certainly bring people closer together. Right, my dear?" Astarion grins, giving you a wink.
"As much as we all would love to know what that's insinuating, we really should get out of here before there's another freak accident," Wyll suggests, gesturing to the way out.
You nod, wanting nothing more than to breathe fresh air and be away from cramped spaces.
The journey out of the cave is long and feels longer due to the woozy feeling of having a little less blood than you started the journey with. You find yourself leaning on Astarion for support every now and then and he is more than happy to wrap an arm around you to keep you up. The two of you are at the back of the group; you didn't want your slow pace slowing everyone else down.
"I never thanked you earlier," Astarion says quietly to you, a look of sincerity on his face.
"Oh, it's no problem," you reply, nudging him with your elbow. "Just don't almost kill me next time."
"Next time?" He raises an eyebrow with a grin. "You'll allow me to go for seconds?"
"As long as you treat me as nicely as you did afterwards, I may consider it." Thinking about the almost kiss that happened after makes you blush and Astarion shrugs casually, though you can spot the faintest hint of pink spreading across his cheeks.
"Maybe. We can always do that without the biting part," he suggests. "Only if you want."
"I'd like that." You give him a smile, leaning over to press a kiss onto his cheek. "Only if you want, too."
The first sign of daylight causes you to pull away from him before he can respond as you rush over to the opening of the cave with Karlach, thankful to get fresh air again.
Astarion watches you go, listening to you cheering and praising Gods you didn't believe in. How quickly his plans could crumble. How quickly you made him feel accepted. There was a knot present in his stomach that was slowly untangling itself the more he thought about intimacy with you. Perhaps, one day, he would want that with you.
#astarion x reader#astarion x tav#bg3#baldur's gate 3#astarion x gender neutral reader#; tealeaf's writing
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Dating Anakin Skywalker would include;
Warnings: jealousy, descriptions of smut, smut, fluff, angst, kinks, swearing, more badly written headcanons
Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine ♡
➪First things first; this man is jealous 99% of the time, let’s be real here.
➪Your relationship is forbidden, so Anakin isn’t able to show you off in all the ways he wants to.
➪All he’s allowed to do is train with you and sometimes is able to get away with pulling your back against his chest as he guides your saber down in a quick slash, but that is really it.
➪It’s nowhere near enough for him, but he puts up with it since he still gets to end most of his days with you in your secret shared room.
➪With that being said, even though he is a very jealous person, he is also very sweet.
➪When he wants to be.
➪But only with you.
➪You are the only person who gets to see his soft side.
➪You train together often since it’s really the only time you get to interact outside of your room, and he shamelessly admitted once that seeing you like that turns him on a lot.
➪Since you are a Jedi yourself, you and Anakin get to go on missions together and protect one another since you don’t really trust anyone else to do it.
➪It also allows for you to be around each other 24/7 without any suspicion being drawn to you.
➪And it usually allows Anakin to be all over you in the privacy of his ship/and or a separate room from the one at the temple.
➪Now....everyone says that he is a massive sub..not me.
➪I don’t buy it.
➪While he’s not a full blown dom (at least not until he turns to the dark side and then later becomes Vader), he’s also not a whiney sub who is just there for you to use.
➪He, of course, cares more about your pleasure than his own, but he also doesn’t act like he’s only a fucktoy for you.
➪Let’s be real, he is a lover, and therefore makes love to you in all the ways that leave you flustered and red in the face.
➪Now, that’s not to say he doesn’t have his full on dom moments.
➪When he gets super jealous, he’ll take you by the hand - and usually doesn’t care who sees, which is something he has to spend time later explaining - and take you back to his room to have his way with you.
➪He’ll say things like, “What were you doing with him, baby? Hm?” or “You think he can make you feel as good as I can? Does he really think that you’d let him?” while he’s railing you into an early grave.
➪With one hand gripping the headboard and the other covering your mouth so you’re not overheard, he is just completely letting out his jealousy and frustration of not being able to show you off like he wants to.
➪That being said, he’s not very quiet himself.
➪He usually has a swollen bottom lip by the time you’re both spent since he had to bite down on it hard to keep himself at least somewhat quiet.
➪His kinks are simple; marking, hair pulling and, you guessed it, choking.
➪He’s very careful with the way marks you, scattering love bites along your shoulders that are always covered by your robes, or on your inner thighs.
➪You’ve been with him for a long time, and saw the departure of his beloved braid, and when he decided to grow out his hair...oh boy.
➪His head had never been more sore.
➪You pull on it every time he takes you to bed, tugging the curls between your fingers with each thrust of his hips.
➪The headache he’d have afterwards was so worth it since he had been a bit nervous that you’d hate the new way he had begun styling his hair, and he was happy he couldn’t have been more wrong.
➪Choking....that should explain itself.
➪But the man loves wrapping his metal fingers gently around your throat, not nearly with enough pressure to block your airways but enough for you to feel it.
➪When he began to turn to the dark side, he definitely applied a bit more pressure, but still not enough to hurt you.
➪After all, you are the reason he lives and breathes, and he would never dream of causing you any type of harm.
➪His names for you are; sweet girl, angel, star and the occasional baby - but he usually saves that one for the bedroom.
➪You two eventually get married in the most lowkey wedding in the history of lowkey weddings, and exchange lightsabers as a way of showing your love.
➪Afterwards he took you away from Coruscant on a special mission - which was really just a fancy name for your honeymoon.
➪While it didn’t last long, Anakin did manage to get you pregnant, and that came with many problems.
➪Hiding it was a challenge, and hiding your son after giving birth was even harder, but you managed to do it for a while until you were able to get your own place in the city, where you and Anakin were able to raise him in peace and privacy.
➪Pick an AU; Anakin never turns to the dark side and gets to experience what it’s like to be a dad, or he does and you give up your son in order to protect him (and to keep him safe from his Sith father).
➪Either way, his love for you never falters and lives on through the memories you share together, whether or not he remains the loyal Jedi he was always meant to be.
#hayden christensen#hayden christensen imagine#hayden christensen edit#hayden christensen gif#anakin skywalker#hayden christensen icons#anakin skywalker imagine#anakin skywalker x reader#hayden christensen blurb#hayden christensen x reader#bloatedandalone hayden fic#anakin skywalker imagines#anakin imagine#anakin smut#anakin skywalker smut#sw anakin#tcw anakin#anakin fanfiction#anakin star wars#star wars anakin#headcanons#anakin skywalker headcanons
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a safe haven l five
Post Outbreak! Joel Miller x Female Reader
series masterlist l previous chapter l next chapter
summary: You and Ellie have a talk outside your house in the middle of the night and you discover her secret; Joel asks you one more time to tell him to back off and you don’t comply.
warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. (TW) mention of reader’s injuries from the previous chapter (very minimal use of color description, i try to keep it was vague as possible), mentions of domestic violence, talk of possible infertility, pregnancy loss, reader describes her miscarriage (mention of cramping/bleeding), infedility. SMUT. fingering, oral sex (f receiving).
Word Count: 7.5k
You stare up blankly into the pitch black darkness of your bedroom—at Luke’s request, you’d drawn the linen curtains over the window, keeping out the moonlight so it wouldn’t disturb his slumber. Unable to see the hour on your watch, you can’t be too sure as to what time it is, but you’re fairly certain it’s well past the middle of the night, possibly even past the earlier hours of the morning. The harder that you try forcing yourself to fall asleep, the more you find yourself tossing and turning under the covers in frustration. It’s beginning to break what little sanity you have left and eventually, you realize it’s better just to give up on sleep altogether.
Luke is laying beside you, although he’d rolled over onto his side with his back to you. He had gone straight to bed after dinner while you’d been washing the dishes and cleaning up the kitchen and you couldn’t have been more grateful. You often have very little choice but to fulfill your wifely duties in the bedroom, but lately, Luke had been so tired that he hadn’t even bothered with you, and for that, you’d also been grateful. You had grown to loathe whenever he touched you, it disgusted you whenever he would kiss you or put his hands on you in an intimate manner—you couldn’t even stand it when he so much as breathed in your direction.
Being careful not to wake him, you swing your legs over the side of the mattress and climb out of bed, quietly padding your way over into the bathroom. Closing the door, you flip on the lights and take a look at yourself in the large, oval shaped mirror hanging on the wall above the porcelain sink. You begin to silently inspect your reflection, silently praying that you’d somehow made it through another incident with Luke unscathed. Though your face still stings, thankfully no mark from the blow had been left behind—the same can’t be said for your upper arm. Your skin is blemished, soft flesh tender and irritated from the iron grip he’d had on you earlier in the kitchen. It’s splotched, and the harder you stare at it, the easier it is to make out the shape of his fingerprints, an injury you can’t exactly blame on running into the door or an accidental kick from a horse.
It would be hell having to wear a shirt with longer sleeves to cover yourself up in this heat while working outside in the paddock and inside the stables—the mere thought of it alone makes you sweat. Either that or you can hide away at home for a few days until the marks heal, or at least start to fade. It wouldn’t be the first time you’d have to pretend to be sick and miss your work duties long enough for an injury to heal.
You take the thin, cotton gray robe hanging from a hook on the bathroom door and tug it on over your sleepwear before turning off the lights and stepping out of the bathroom. Brushing past your bed, you slip out of the bedroom. You’re careful to be quiet as you swiftly make your way downstairs and dip out through the front door and onto the porch. During the day, the weather is scorching, but evenings aren’t quite as bad—you wrap the billowy fabric of your robe around yourself as you sink down, taking a seat on the top step of the porch.
“Fuck,” you mutter softly.
Covering your face with both hands, you shake your head as you will yourself to keep it together—you fail at holding back the incoming tears. You curse again, angry at yourself for crying over Luke. Bastard doesn’t deserve a single tear, and yet, the number of them you’d shed over him in the last couple of years would be enough to power the hydroelectric dam outside the town’s walls.
You lift a hand to your mouth and muffle your sobs, but one or two slip out into the silence of the night. Not that it matters, because no one’s around to hear them. Besides the patrolmen working the wall on the opposite end of the settlement, everyone is at home, fast asleep in their beds. No one in their right mind was up at this hour if they didn’t have to be. Or so you’d thought.
The familiar sound of Ellie’s voice saying your name startles you, prompting you to let out a loud, audible gasp as your head snaps up and whips to the side. Instinctively, you reach up and quickly, almost furiously, wipe at your eyes with the sleeve of your robe. “Ellie?” you say her name in a confused, questioning manner as she approaches. Though your voice is thick with your emotions, your concern for her is still evident in your tone. “What are you doing outside at this time of night? What’s the matter? Is everything alright?”
“I couldn’t really sleep, so I decided to take a stroll. Wanted to get some fresh air,” she says. She draws closer to you and in the soft, dim glow of the porch light, she notices the tear stains that streak the sides of your face. “You know, I thought I heard someone crying and for a minute, I could’ve sworn I was losing my fucking shit or something. But I guess not.” Pausing, she shoves her hands into the packets of her plaid pajama pants. “You okay? And before you lie to me and say that you’re fine, just know that I’m not blind and I’m as hell not fucking stupid, either.”
You could have laughed—you actually almost do.
The girl’s too smart for her own good.
“Mind if I sit with you?” Ellie asks, gesturing with a nod of her head to the spot beside you.
You nod and as she sits down, your hand wraps itself around your sore arm. It’s not like she can see it through the sleeve of your robe, but it’s a force of habit. Hiding this, concealing that—covering it all up.
It’s wired into your brain.
Ellie pulls her hands out of her pockets and brings one of them onto your bare knee in a soft, light slap. “Alright, princess. Fess up.” She’d pinned you with that nickname since the night she had seen you in a dress at the party. Nudging your side with her elbow, she continues to say, “Talk to me. What happened?”
“Ellie—” You abruptly stop, realizing it’s a waste of breath trying to convince her that nothing is wrong. You’d gotten to know just how stubborn that she could be. Exhaling a sigh of defeat, you confess, “I had a fight with Luke.”
“What did he do?”
Perplexed, you turn and raise an eyebrow at her. Ellie still hadn’t had the chance to meet Luke, and after what he’d said about her, you had every intention of keeping it that way—you want him to stay far, far away from her. Still, her assumption about him being the one at fault catches you off guard. It makes you wonder just how observant the teenager really is and whether or not she has any preconceived notions about your marriage. “What makes you think that it was him? How do you know it wasn’t my fault?”
Ellie scoffs, “Please. What on earth could little miss perfect possibly do wrong?”
Another one of her silly nicknames for you.
Unable to help yourself, you crack a small smile.
You release a breathy little laugh and feel another tear slide down the side of your face. Reaching up, you wipe it away with the back of your hand. “I’m not perfect, Ellie. I’m far from it, actually,” you tell her, quietly. “I haven’t always been the best wife—definitely not a perfect one, that’s for damn sure. You might not believe me, but I’ve made my fair share of mistakes in the past, and those mistakes really caused a rift between us that we were never quite able to repair.”
Her eyebrows knit together. “Aw, come on. What could you have done that was so fucking terrible?”
You sigh.
“When my father got sick, I let myself drift away. I just had so much on my plate between learning how to take care of the horses and looking after my father as his health deteriorated. It was so overwhelming and I just—I shut Luke out.” You don’t have the slightest clue as to why you’re confessing any of this to a fifteen year old, but it eases the heaviness, lifts a weight that you’d been carrying on your shoulders for far, far too long. “I neglected him, Ellie. I neglected him, and I neglected my marriage.” Your voice breaks off into a trembling whisper, prompting her to nudge you with her elbow once more. Though she hadn’t said anything, it was her way of encouraging you to let it out and god only knew that you needed to get the guilt off your chest and out into the open. Luke is an awful man and you don’t want to justify the terrible things he’s done to you, but you still feel partially responsible for how badly things had fallen apart, how they began crumbling long before the first time he’d ever put his hands on you. “I know Luke never forgave me for that, Ellie. In fact, I would say he fucking hates me for it.”
“Your dad was fucking dying! You had to learn how to be a veterinarian in what—a year or two?” Ellie sounds angry and it doesn’t surprise you. You know she’s grown to love you over the last couple of months—you two spend more time with one another than with anyone else and have become incredibly close. Ellie takes a moment to calm herself down before asking, “How long have you and Luke been married to each other, anyway?”
“For about a few years now. We’ve been together since I got to Jackson,” you explain. “A few months after we met, we exchanged vows in the old church that’s just up the road.”
Ellie brings her knees up and hugs them against her chest. “Can I ask you something? It’s really fucking personal, though.” She notices the amused look you toss at her and rolls her eyes. “More personal than what I’ve asked you up until now.”
“Depends. How personal are we talking?” Though you’re mostly joking, part of you is worried about what’s going to come out of the brazen teenager’s mouth.
“How come you and Luke don’t have any kids?”
Your eyes fall down to your hands, which you’re subconsciously wringing together anxiously in your lap. “I don’t know, Ellie.”
“What do you mean you don’t know?”
“Exactly that. I don’t know.” You shrug and feel her lean against you as you elaborate on it a little further. “Once we’d realized that Jackson was just about as safe and secure as we could hope for, we tried starting a family. We wanted to have children like the other couples here in the community, but it never happened for us. I did get pregnant once. It was right before my dad got sick. I miscarried just a couple of days after taking one of those home pregnancy tests. I had just told Maria about the positive result—I was at her place when I started cramping, and then I started bleeding a little bit. Luke said it was normal for some women to experience that, but the next morning, I used the bathroom and—” You trail off, letting her piece together the last piece of the puzzle.
“Shit, I’m sorry—”
“It’s alright,” you reassure her, not wanting her to feel bad for having asked. “Anyway, after a couple of months, we decided to try for another baby, but I never got pregnant again.” Out of the corner of your eye, you notice the expression on her face and beat her to the punch. “And before you ask me, we don’t know who the problem is. It could be me, it could be Luke—it could be both of us for all we know. But without proper medical testing, there’s no way we can know for sure what’s going on. It’s something that we’re probably never going to figure out.”
For a moment, Ellie’s silent.
You can feel she’s itching to ask another question, tell that it’s right there on the tip of her tongue.
“Go ahead,” you encourage her. “It’s okay.”
“Are you happy with Luke?”
You hadn’t known what to expect.
But you certainly hadn’t expected that.
Maybe you should have.
Masking the shock on your expression, you turn to her and say, “He’s my husband, Ellie.”
She blinks. “You didn’t answer the question.”
You open your mouth to speak, but words fail you, and you quickly clamp it shut.
She’d stumped you. Hard.
After a minute, Ellie laughs, “Well, your silence answered the question a hell of a lot better than you fucking did, princess.” She sees you wring your hands together again and her grin fades. She speaks again, her tone going serious. “I don’t get it. If you’re not happy with him, then why not leave and find someone you can actually be happy with?”
“Ellie—”
“Come on, I see how all the men around here look at you,” she scoffs, shaking her head.
“Elle, please,” you sigh in exasperation. “That’s not true.”
She rolls her bottom lip between her teeth and peers at you.
“What? Why are you looking at me like that?”
“I know Joel’s definitely got a thing for you—he’s got a thing for you big time.”
You stiffen beside her.
Fuck.
“And I know you’ve got a thing for him too.” Ellie’s eyes glimmer mischievously, the corners of her mouth tugging up into a smirk as she watches the color drain from your face.
Say something, you silently urge yourself. Anything.
“Ellie, I’m married,” you manage to stammer out.
Ellie snorts and shoots you a knowing look. “Listen, princess. It’s like I told you. I’m not blind and I’m not stupid. I know something happened between you two in Ranger’s stall right before me and Dina walked in.”
Again, she has you at a complete loss for words.
“So,” she prompts. “Who kissed who first?”
“Fuck,” you mumble. Embarrassed, you drop your head into your hands, unable to look at her. “I can’t even imagine what you must think of me—”
She touches your shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze.
Surprised, you lift your head and turn to meet her gaze.
“I think you’re someone who just wants to be happy,” she states. “And for some fucking reason I don’t think I will ever understand, I’m guessing that Joel makes you happy?”
“I like him a lot, Ellie. Since the moment I first saw him back during the winter, there was something that drew me to him,” you admit, feeling your cheeks grow warm. After a minute, you squint at her and chuckle. “You probably find that pretty weird, don’t you?”
“Uh, yeah. Really fucking weird,” Ellie replies, causing you to laugh again. “Joel’s a different breed, man. Joel is—well, Joel is Joel. I didn’t see that asshole crack a smile until weeks after I first met him. We come here and not only do you have smiling—you got him to fucking dance at a party in front of a bunch of people. You might not think anything of it, but if you knew the Joel that I met a year ago, the Joel who hated the whole world and every motherfucker in it, you’d be shocked.”
You blurt the question before you can stop yourself. “How exactly did you and Joel wind up together, anyway?”
Ellie’s eyes widen slightly. “Um, I met him back in the Boston QZ.”
Suddenly, she seems nervous. Afraid, even.
Whatever secrets Ellie carries, she can’t speak of them—and you respect that.
“It’s okay,” you assure her, shaking your head. “You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to tell me, alright?”
She nibbles the inside of her cheek. “It’s not that I don’t want to tell you—I do. I haven’t been able to tell anyone and it’s been weighing down on me for months now. It’s the reason I can’t fucking sleep at night. It’s on my mind almost all day, every fucking day,” she confesses with an exhausted sigh. “I know if there’s one person that I can trust to tell, it’s gonna be you and only you.”
Patiently, you wait for her to make her choice.
Ellie sighs again.
“If I do tell you, I need you to promise me a couple things—the first is that you won’t fucking freak out on me.”
“I won’t freak out on you,” you swear.
“And the second is that you can’t tell Romeo that I told you anything about what I’m about to tell you, no matter what,” she warns you. “Got it?”
“Oh, please don’t call him that,” you mutter with a small shake of your head. She narrows her eyes at you and you hold your hands up. “Don’t worry, Ellie. Whatever we talk about tonight, it stays between the two of us. I promise.”
“Okay.” Ellie inhales a deep breath, then exhales it slowly before she lifts her arm. Slowly, she peels back the sleeve of her shirt and holds her arm out for you to see.
“Ellie,” you gasp her name softly. Taking it into your hands, your eyes glaze over what appears to be a large, healed bite wound. After a moment, you look back up at her in complete disbelief. “Is this from—?”
She nods. “Yeah. I got bit a year ago, but I never got sick.”
“How is that even possible?”
“I’m immune.” Ellie withdraws her arm, tugging her sleeve back down into place. That’s when she finally begins to tell you the entire story, beginning to end. She spends the next hour sparing absolutely no details as she recounts each and every one of the events from the abandoned mall in the Boston QZ right down to the Firefly hospital in Salt Lake City.
She tells you about her best friend, Riley. She tells you about Marlene and the Fireflies. She tells you about Joel and his former smuggling partner, Tess, and how Marlene had entrusted them to smuggle Ellie out of Boston. She tells you all about how she and Joel had spent several months traveling on foot halfway across the country to get her to where she needed to be. Losses, near fatal injuries, failures—Ellie spills it all right into your lap, leaving you speechless.
“Joel told me there’s a bunch more people like me who are immune. He said they’ve stopped looking for a cure.” Ellie’s eyes glaze over with tears, but she furiously blinks them back. “I shouldn’t even be here. I should be dead. But I’m not. I’m living in an actual fucking town, living a decent life. I’m going to fucking parties when I should really be dead.”
Finally, you find your voice.
“Ellie, don’t say that,” you say, softly. “That’s not true.”
“It is. I should be fucking dead, just like Riley. Like Tess. Like Sam—”
You turn, angling your body towards hers. You want to reassure her—but you don’t want to dismiss her feelings, either. “Ellie, I can’t even imagine how you must feel after everything you’ve been through, so I won’t sit here and pretend that I can.” Lifting your hands, you take her face between your palms and hold it gingerly, your thumb brushing a stray tear that had slipped and rolled down her cheek. “But if you’re still alive, it’s for a reason.”
“I thought I had a reason,” she mumbles. “But it’s gone now. I thought I had a purpose, but turns out I fucking don’t. My immunity, it means nothing. It meant nothing, all the fucking shit that I had to go through, that Joel had to go through—it was all for fucking nothing.”
Dropping your hands from her face, you place an arm around her and pull her close. “It might not have worked out the way you wanted it to and for that, I’m sorry,” you say, giving her shoulders a squeeze. “I know nothing I say is going to make what you’re feeling just go away. But one thing is for sure, Ellie. You don’t deserve to be dead. None of what happened out there is on you. None of it is your fault. You shouldn’t feel guilty because you’re still alive. It’s like I told you—if you’re still here, it’s for a reason.”
She sniffs. “Maybe the reason is being a thorn in your side.”
Grinning, you reach up and lightly pinch her flushed cheek, prompting her to laugh and slap your hand away. “For the record, you could never be a thorn in my side, Ellie. Not even if you tried.” You wait until her giggles subside before adding, “And just so you know, you have my word about this staying between the two of us.”
“Swear it?”
“I swear it,” you promise her with confidence.
She flashes you a tiny, appreciative smile. “Thanks.”
A comfortable silence settles over the both of you. You take in the sounds of the night—crickets chirping, owls cooing, and you can even hear a coyote howling in the distance.
“It’s pretty late,” you say, breaking it a few minutes later when you realize how long she’d been out of bed. “You should get home now.” You stand up and hold a hand out to her, helping her up to her feet. “Come on, I’ll take you to the door.”
You walk her back over to her and Joel’s unit and stand at the foot of the porch with her.
“Hey.” Ellie turns to you. “Is it alright if I like—give you a hug or something?”
Her request takes you by slight surprise, but you nod. “Of course.”
She hesitates, at first. But then she takes a step towards you and slips her arms around your waist.
As you wrap your own around her shoulders, it suddenly dawns on you that Ellie hadn’t asked for a hug because she needed one—but because she realized that you needed one.
A minute or two passes and Ellie doesn’t let you go.
An emotional lump rises to the back of your throat and you bury your face into her soft brown hair, warm tears brimming your eyes and threatening to fall.
“Ellie,” you croak her name, trying to warn her.
“It’s okay,” she assures you. She rests her head on your chest over your heartbeat. She hears it pounding, feels it thrumming against her cheekbone.
She holds you tightly and you finally break, choking a sob into her hair. As your body shudders in her arms, she squeezes you harder, almost as if she’s trying to somehow hug your pain away.
For the first time in two years, you’re finally allowing yourself to cry in front of someone else—for the first time in two years, you don’t feel completely alone.
Suddenly, the front door of the house swings open in such an aggressive manner that it startles you apart from one another.
“Jesus Christ,” Joel breathes, letting out a sigh of relief as he descends the porch steps. “Ellie, what the hell are you doin’ out of bed at two o’ clock in the goddamn mornin’? I went to check up on you and you were gone! Scared the fuckn’ shit outta me—” He stops abruptly when he finally realizes she’s not alone. He steps closer and even in the darkness, he sees the tears you’re trying to wipe away. “What’s the matter? What happened?”
“Nothing,” you say, quickly. “Sorry, Joel. She was with me. We were just at my house talking out on my front porch and we lost track of time—”
He cuts you off. “Why are you cryin’?”
Ellie’s eyes helplessly bounce between the two of you.
“Joel, it’s nothing. I promise it’s nothing. I’m fine.”
“The hell you are.” Joel turns to Ellie. “Go inside and get to bed. Go on now.”
“But Joel—”
He pins her with a stern look and she sighs. She gives you one more hug, a quick one, before disappearing inside the house, closing the door behind her.
“C’mere darlin’,” Joel murmurs, taking your hand in his. He leads you up the steps of his porch. The light is off, but the moon and stars light up the night sky bright enough that you’re able to make out the concern written all over his face. Joel keeps your hand in his own as he guides you to sit down on the porch swing he’d built and hung for Ellie. He sits down beside you. “What happened?”
“Nothing,” you fib again.
“Really?” He hums. “‘Cause those tears are tellin’ me a whole different story.”
You can’t help but wonder if Ellie had always been stubborn—or if she’d picked it up from Joel. The latter wouldn’t surprise you.
“I had a fight with Luke. It was on my mind and I couldn’t sleep, so I stepped outside to try and clear my head a little bit,” you explain to him, keeping everything as vague as possible. “I was sitting on my porch—Ellie couldn’t sleep either and was taking a walk when she saw me. She noticed I’d been crying and offered to keep me company for a while.”
“You had a fight with Luke,” he repeats.
“Joel—”
“Why did you two fight? He do somethin’ to you?”
You sigh. “He said something to me he knew would hit a nerve,” you tell him, hoping it’s enough of an explanation for him. “I got upset and said something stupid to him that I really shouldn’t have and we got into an argument.”
Joel squeezes your hand, momentarily hesitating.
You’re almost afraid to ask, but you do anyway. “What?”
“Are you happy with him?”
You stare at him. “I beg your pardon?”
“Don’t think I stuttered, peach. I asked if you’re happy with him.”
Pulling your hand out of Joel’s, you stand up and walk over to the wooden railing that circles his porch. You look across the road, fixing your eyes on the front door of a neighboring house.
When Ellie had asked you that question, it’d been fairly innocent.
But now that it’s Joel asking you, it’s different.
You hear the sound of his footsteps coming up behind you and swallow harshly. Slowly, you turn around to face him, though you hadn’t realized he had been so close. Your eyes meet his chest, clad in the same navy blue shirt he’d been wearing when you had dropped off your father’s guitar.
Nervously, they flicker up to meet his. “Luke is my husband, Joel.”
Joel echoes Ellie’s words. “You didn’t answer the question.”
Like father, like daughter.
“We’re fine, Joel. Our marriage is fine. Alright?”
Scoffing, he shakes his head. “Still didn’t answer the question.”
“What does it matter to you?” you challenge him. You’re certain you know the answer to your own question. Still, part of you, the part that lacks all common sense, wants to hear it from his own mouth. You need to hear it from him.
“I think you know why, darlin’.” He takes a step closer. He’s now standing so close that his chest touches yours.
“Joel—” You stop, unsure of what to say.
“Tell me to back off,” Joel utters the same words he’d said to you back at the stables. He leans down, inching closer and closer to you. “Please. I need you to tell me to back off right now before I do somethin’ stupid.”
You try to oblige—you really, really try to do what he’s asking of you. But you can’t.
You don’t want to.
Your heart pounds and you can hear the roar of your own blood rushing in your ears as the adrenaline shoots through your veins.
He hasn’t even touched you yet.
“Please,” Joel nearly pleads. “Tell me to back off.”
“I can’t,” you admit, sounding as weak as you feel. “I can’t do that, Joel.”
“Why not?”
“I think you know why,” you reply, parroting his own words back to him.
He inches closer and your breaths fall from your lips in tiny, pathetic little pants. Your chest heaves as you try to steady them, but it’s useless. There’s no masking the effect he has on you, no hiding how he’s making you feel.
Joel gingerly takes the side of your face and cradles your cheek in his palm. “Baby.”
It’s ironic. Just hours ago, Luke had struck you there in a painful slap and now here is Joel, holding it so softly and so gently in his hand. His touch is comforting, it’s soothing—somehow you already know it has the power to heal the wounds you thought you’d have to live with for the rest of your life.
His other hand moves to your hip and he pulls you in even closer to him. He leans in and presses his lips to yours lightly, carefully, as if he’s testing the waters before allowing himself to take the plunge into the deep end. The moment he feels you melt right into his hands, his tongue sweeps across your bottom lip, silently asking you permission for more.
Eager, your mouth parts for him and he backs you into the wooden railing as he kisses you deeper, with fervor. Your hands slide up his chest, past his wide shoulders, and tangle themselves in his soft, graying curls.
Groaning, Joel tears his mouth away from yours and pins you between himself and the railing, his lips meeting the sensitive flesh of your neck and latching on in desperation. He pushes your robe off your shoulders and it falls to the ground with a soft thud. Your breath catches in your throat as his warm, calloused hands slide up the hem of your shirt and up the length of your sides, his fingers gliding across your smooth skin.
“Joel,” you faintly whimper his name, your hands falling back down onto his shoulders. You grasp them, holding on as if you’re holding onto dear life itself.
You can’t help but imagine what it would be like to feel those hands roam and explore the entirety of your body, touching every last inch of skin you have to offer him. Your mind wanders even further and you wonder how your name would sound rolling off of his tongue while he’s buried inside of you, making you his own.
“You really ain’t gonna tell me to back off,” he mumbles the realization into the hollow of your neck. Inhaling deeply, he commits your scent to memory—the sweet, subtle, fragrance of homemade milk and honey bath soap blends together with the delicate lavender from the calming salve you smother yourself in every night before bed.
“No,” you exhale the world shakily. “I’m not. Because I don’t want you to back off.”
Joel pushes one of his hands further up your shirt, cupping one of your breasts and eliciting another whimper as he kneads the soft mound of flesh, a thumb brushing over your hard nipple. His other hand moves around your waist and he holds you close as his teeth scrape across your collarbone, nipping at it lightly.
He silently reminds himself to be careful not to leave behind marks. He can’t send you home to your husband covered in evidence.
Withdrawing his hand from underneath your shirt, he drags it down to the waistband of your thin, cotton blue shorts. His index finger skims along the elastic.
“Joel,” you mewl his name into his chest, thighs clenching together as the arousal pools between them, drenching your panties.
Surely he has to know what he’s doing to you by now.
“What is it, my little peach?” he asks, humming against your collarbone. “What do you what?”
You dig your fingernails into his shoulders in a silent plea.
“Y’gotta tell me what you want, baby,” Joel murmurs quietly. “Ain’t doin’ anythin’ unless you tell me you want me to. Use your words, sweet girl.”
“Touch me, Joel. Please, I need you to touch me. I need you to fucking touch me,” you beg him in a low, husky voice you don’t even recognize.
Slotting his lips against yours, he does as you ask him and slips his hand down the front of your bottoms. He groans into the kiss the second he makes contact with your heat. “Fuckin’ Christ,” he curses quietly, his eyes snapping open and meeting yours in the moonlight. “Baby, you’re soakin’ wet. This all for me, sweetheart?”
You exhale sharply as he drags his index finger along your entrance—it’s then followed by a loud, audible gasp when he pushes it into your throbbing cunt.
“Joel,” you moan, prompting him to quickly cover your mouth with his once again, swallowing the noise.
After a moment, Joel pulls away slightly and warns, “Can’t be too loud, darlin’. Kid can’t see us, but I’m willin’ to bet she’s got her ear pressed against the door tryin’ to eavesdrop. Gonna need you to be a real good girl and stay quiet for me, alright?”
You nod, biting down on your lip.
“Good.” He pushes a second finger into your pussy, relishing in how deliciously tight you feel around his digits. He can only imagine how heavenly you would feel wrapped around something else of his.
You sink your teeth harder into your lip and swallow back a moan as he curls his fingers inside of you in an upward, come hither motion, brushing against a spot in your body you didn’t even know existed. Joel withdraws them ever so slightly, then thrusts them back into you, intensifying the flames deep in your lower belly.
“Fuck, peach. Gotta fuckin’ taste you, darlin’,” he mutters as he pulls his hand away from you and takes a step backwards, giving himself enough space to sink down onto his knees.
Realizing what he means, you open your eyes and quickly stop him, pulling him back up his feet. “Joel. Wait.”
He frowns—had you changed your mind?
“What’s the matter?”
“No one’s ever—I’ve never had anyone do that to me before.” Blazing heat scorches your cheeks as you make the admission.
Joel scoffs in disbelief. “You’re kiddin’ me, right?”
Embarrassed, you shake your head. “No. I’m not.”
He leans forward and his lips brush against the shell of your ear, making you shiver as he whispers lustfully, “Will you let me make you feel good, sweetheart?”
Your insecurities make you hesitate—but your need for him is bigger than your fears, it’s bigger than the anxieties that stem from your lack of experience. Pulling away, you meet his gaze and nod. “Please.”
Joel drops down to one knee in front of you. He hooks his fingers underneath the elastic band of your shorts and slides them down your legs along with your cotton panties. He carefully frees one of your ankles from the articles of clothing and proceeds to drape your leg over his shoulder. He peppers a trail of soft kisses along the inside of your thigh, his beard scratching at the tender flesh there. As he draws closer and closer to where where he’s aching to be, the tip of his nose brushes lightly against your cunt and he groans your name quietly underneath his breath. He’s already intoxicated—if the scent of your sex is this fucking sweet, he’s willing to bet his life that the taste of you is going to be something beyond his wildest imagination.
You don’t trust yourself not to collapse on top of him. Reaching behind yourself, you grip the railing and your fingers claw at the wood, running the risk of painful splinters. But you don’t even think about that. You can’t think about anything except Joel Miller being on his knees in front of you.
He glances up at you and asks, “You sure ‘bout this, baby?”
“Yes,” you reply, already breathless. “I’m sure.”
He spreads your legs further and moves his head to the apex of your thighs, his mouth, hungry and searing, meeting your cunt. Nose buried in tufts of damp, silky soft curls, Joel slips his tongue between your glistening folds, flattening it out as he slowly drags it forward, savoring the taste of your slick. One of your hands abandons the railing and buries itself into his hair, your fingernails lighty scraping at his scalp. Your knee shakes and you fight to keep yourself upright, but with the way Joel’s ravishing your pussy, it’s only a matter of time before he brings you down. He moans into you, devours you like a man starved—a man who wouldn’t dare leave any part of you not licked, not sucked, not kissed. He swallows everything you have to offer him, drinks it down like it’s water.
“Oh fuck,” you gasp, hearing the audible slurping coming from underneath you. It’s a sheer pleasure you’ve never experienced before—a pleasure you didn’t even know was possible. You’d never been touched like this before. Tasted like this before.
Joel wraps his lips around your clit, taking extra care to give plenty of his attention to the swollen bundle of nerves as he slides two thick fingers into your pussy, stretching your walls.
“Fuck—Joel,” you whisper, willing yourself not to be too loud. He begins thrusting them in and out of you, gradually increasing his pace until the squelching sound of him finger fucking you breaks the calm, quiet silence of the night. All the while, his mouth remains latched onto your clit. Combined with the strokes of his fingers, the way they hit that soft, sensitive spongy spot inside your cunt, you’re approaching a release you’ve only ever give yourself when you were home alone. “God, that feels so fucking good, Joel. Don’t stop, please don’t fucking stop—”
And he doesn’t.
As desperate as you are, his own desperation tops it.
You’re dripping around his fingers, wetness slowly trickling down the palm of his hand, dribbling down to his wrist. Joel keeps his pace, but his tongue flattens over your clit in firm, broad strokes. He lifts his other arm and hooks it around your trembling thigh, holding you firmly in place as your body involuntarily tries squirming away from him. He keeps you right where he needs you, his face still buried in your cunt.
The pressure that’s been building between your hips nears its peak—there isn’t a single part of you that isn’t aching for that sweet, sweet release. “Joel, fuck, I’m gonna—I’m so fucking close.”
He tears his mouth away from you and looks up, whispering, “C’mon, baby. C’mon. Come for me,” he whispers hoarsely. “Wanna feel this sweet little pussy squeeze my fingers.”
You sink your teeth hard into your bottom lip to keep yourself from crying out his name. It’s unlike anything you’ve ever felt before, feels different than the orgasms you’d give yourself, better than the orgasms you would give yourself—after coming on his fingers, coming on your own won’t ever be the same. The muscles in your stomach tense, and then an explosion follows, sending you tumbling over the edge as you fall apart right in the palm of his hand. He slows his pace as he helps you right through the tumultuous wave of pleasure that crashes over you.
Unable to hold yourself steady any longer, you feel the leg that’s supporting your weight buckle and if it wasn’t for Joel’s hands flying to your hips, you would have collapsed to the floor.
“S’alright baby, I got you,” he reassures as he holds you up. “I’ve got you, sweetheart.”
Joel feathers his last few kisses on the inside of your thigh, leaving a trail of burning fire behind in his wake. He then pulls your underwear and shorts up your legs back into place before rising to his feet with a small, labored grunt. Taking you in his arms, he pulls your body flush against his as he kisses you, allowing you to get a taste of yourself on his lips. It’s foreign but intoxicating, and it makes you drip for him all over again.
As he holds you even closer, you feel his cock brush against your hip and you moan. You squeeze an arm between your bodies and eagerly cup him in the palm of your hand through his gray sweatpants, eliciting a groan from him as he licks into your mouth. He’s hard for you and all you want is to see him, taste him, feel him.
Breaking away from his embrace, you start to sink down to your knees when his hands catch your shoulders and pull you back up to your feet.
“You ain’t gotta do that,” he whispers, tucking a loose lock of your hair behind your ear. “You don’t owe me anythin’ back, alright?”
“I know I don’t, but I want to,” you insist, batting your eyelashes. Tugging your lip between your teeth, you give him an innocent face that almost makes him come on on the spot. “I really, really want to.”
Joel takes your hands in his. “I believe you, peach. I do. But tonight, all I wanted—all I needed was to take care of you. Make you feel good. That’s it. We can worry ‘bout me another night.”
Another night. It takes you a minute to realize what he means.
He wants to keep seeing you. Like this.
In secret. In the dead of night, when nobody else is around.
You glance up at him, lips parted slightly in surprise. Then, your eyes flicker down to your hands, still in his, your stomach sinking when your wedding band gleams in the moonlight, garnering your attention. It’s not because you feel guilty, but rather, it’s only a frustrating reminder that you belong to Luke. He would never set you free, not in this lifetime. He’d rather see you six feet under the ground than allow you to end your marriage.
Stolen moments and clandestine meetings in the middle of the night were all you could ever have with Joel Miller.
The man you’re falling for too hard, too fast.
Joel’s thinking the same. He’s not an idiot. He knows that you’re not happy in your marriage, but even so, there’s not a chance in hell Luke’s going to be willing to let you go—much less to be with another man. He remembers the night at the party, the way Luke held you possessively, marked his territory and made it known you’re his. Not his wife, but his property.
He hooks an index finger underneath your chin, bringing your eyes back up to meet his. “Need to ask you somethin’ and I’m gonna need you to be real honest with me, darlin’. Alright?”
Nervously, you nod. “Okay,” you reply, tentatively. “What is it?”
“He ever hurt you, sweet girl?”
A chill runs down the length of your spine. In the steadiest voice you can muster, you ask, “What are you talking about, Joel?”
He clocks the way you stiffen, feels your discomfort. “Luke. He ever put his hands on you or anythin’ like that?”
Your throat goes dry like sandpaper.
Does he know something?
No, that’s impossible.
He’d only ever seen you with Luke once.
“No, of course not,” you lie to him, furiously shaking your head. “We do fight a lot, but he’s never gotten physical with me.”
Suspicious, Joel peers at you. “You tellin’ me the truth, peach?”
No, I’m not! I’m trapped in a fucking nightmare of a marriage and I can’t do anything about it.
You want to take him by his shirt, curl it in your fists and shout it in his face. There isn’t a single part of you that doesn’t want to confess everything to him, tell him about the hell Luke’s been putting you through since your father passed away. But you know better than that. You know that if Joel ever finds out, he’ll go straight to Tommy and Maria
Or worse.
He’ll go straight to Luke himself.
After everything Ellie had told you about him from their journey across the country, you now have a clear idea of just what Joel Miller is capable of, the lengths he would go to just to protect the people he cares about.
“I am,” you finally answer, looking him straight in the eye. “I’m telling the truth. I swear.”
You can see it. Feel it.
Joel doesn’t believe you.
Without an admission, though, he doesn’t have much choice but to nod his head, accepting the lie. “Alright.”
“I don’t want to talk about him anymore,” you mumble, taking your hands out of his. You place them on his chest and look up at him through the thickness of your eyelashes. “We might not always get a lot of alone time together, Joel. So what little time we do get together, I don’t want to waste a single second of it by talking about him. Okay?”
Joel wraps his arms around your waist. “Okay,” he agrees with another nod.
Something tells him that you’re protecting Luke and he doesn’t know why.
But there is one thing that he does know.
If he ever catches wind of what Luke is doing to you behind closed door, Joel’s going to fucking kill him.
#joel miller series#joel miller smut#joel miller x f!reader#joel miller x female reader#joel miller pedro pascal#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller fic#joel miller angst#joel miller x y/n#joel miller x you#joel miller x original character#joel miller x oc#joel miller fluff#pedro pascal characters#joel miller imagine#fic: a safe haven#fic: ash
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Pretty like the sun
Pairing: Percy Jackson x Apollo daughter OC (she classes as an oc cause I gave her a name but you can just read it like your name or Y/N if you want, I just feel better when I'm writing and the characters have names :)
Summary: Percy has always felt something for you, something that you had felt aswell. These quests of life and death finally knocked some sense into you two.
Warnings: Blood, Pain, Agony, Violence, Weapons, Wounds, Wound treating, Curse words, Oblivious idiots, Fluff, Angsty??, Sexual tension, Mutual pining, Almost death, Non-Canon, Hugs, Kisses, Holding hands, Ooc Percy??? Cerberus as a violent dog (ik she isnt really but this is my imagine so idc), Not proof-read, GUT-WRENCHING LOVE, IDK how i wrote this considering I've never been in a relationship OR have ever had an actual crush in my 16 sad years of life
Words: 6.3k
Notes: This is my first imagine so I'm sorry if its bad😭😭. Also if anyone would be willing to give me a few pointers when it comes to working this app as a creator please do cause, yeah I've been using this app for years but I have no idea how to use it when it comes to posting things. I would be very grateful. ❤️❤️���️. Also, if anyone wants to request something else for me to write I would love to write something for either Percy or Luke, I'll probably make a list of people who I'm willing to write for later today cause it is 10am rn and I haven't slept so I'll just go bed after this 😭😭😭
As soon as percy got handed this quest, with Grover being part of the cloven council and Annabeth being gone to spend time with her family, Percy knew his immediate first choice would be Aurora, there was no doubt about it. The Apollo girl had a spark about her that has drawn him in the second he laid eyes on her.
He had deemed it because she was a daughter of Apollo so there would always be some sort of light that would draw him in, but he hasnt been very sure of that for a very long time. Every time he laid eyes on her, it felt as though time stood still and she was the only source of light and happiness in this dark, gloomy world.
They had became extremely close when he first came to camp, she taught him the ropes in archery as to put it plainly, he was absolutely shit at it. He had no aim and his stance was awful, in her own words.
When she first said that to him, he wanted to throw her in a dumpster, but then he saw her, he properly saw her. He didnt know what Aphrodite looked like, but he was sure she would be a spitting image of the girl. He was even more sure that she was a daughter of Aphrodite but instead she was not, which made sense as to why she was hanging around the archery booth. From that day forward, she helped him freshen his archery skills, and he helped her with her sword skills.
He has never understood why she wouldnt ask Luke as he was the best swords-man and would probably be a better trainer. However, when he brough it up to her one time her cheeks flushed the tiniest bit and she stated how she was helping him, so he should do that same.
That's how they have ended up here. In the middle of nowhere, trying to find and 'kill' a beast that has been accidently lost and let out from the underworld and send it back. Although quests always have 3 people on them, the oracle specifically stated that this was only a 2 person job. Percy had never been so sure in picking Aurora at that moment in time.
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"Are you sure we are going the right way Perce, I swear I've seen this tree 3 times already" Aurora stated this time taking a dagger and marking said tree with an X so if they do cross it again, she would be right.
"You never trust my navigation skills sunshine, why is that, is it cause you always get lost in my eyes" he says turning to look at her with a smug smile on his face. The girl abruptly stopped at his turn and could feel the blood rush to her cheeks in that moment, her honey-brown eyes immediately locked with his water coloured eyes and she broke the gaze, not letting him have the satisfaction of being right.
"You wish seaweed brain" she muttered and walked past him knocking into his shoulder in the process which led to him letting out a dramatic gasp.
"That hurts sunshine. Where are you going, it's getting dark, we should stop, set up camp and get some rest so we can re-think and re-strategize." The girl slowly stops her steps and turns her back to the boy who is standing there leaning against a tree with his arms crossed giving her a cocky glance that makes her want to die and kill him at the same time.
The two had a stand-off for a bit before one decided to speak up.
"As long as I don't have to scavenge this creepy forest for wood then its fine by me" the girl said walking back to him while his eyes following her every movement till she was a few steps away from him. The girl went to grab something from her pocket with her left hand and with her right, she grabbed the boys arms and dragged her hand down it, to his hand which automatically opened up. She placed something cold into it with her left hand.
He looked at her and she had a glint in her eyes he hadn't seen for the past 12 hours, looking to his palm, he was a coin. Not just any ordinary coin or ordinary drachma. It was a coin from sea life, the one coin they give to one another which can be used for many thing, they talked it over before the quest. The coin can only be used for 2 things during this quest, to make sure the other doesnt die, or the person who has been handed the coin has to do what the person giving the coin wants no matter what.
He looked up at her with a confused look but seeing the mischief in her eyes gave enough away. Sighing he pocketed the coin and stepped away from the tree which only left 3 steps in-between the two.
"What do you want me to do" not even bothering arguing.
"I want to see you fail at making a fire" she said just giving him the brightest smile, basically oozing sunlight from her. The boy felt like a deer stuck in headlights in that moment, he almost forgot the reason for her heavenly smile. He wanted to tell her he loved her right there and then, that he could never get enough of her, that he searched for her in every room he ever walked into, that she was the one and only constant source of light in his life, that she was the sun and he would orbit her in every universe no matter how close he got, no matter how much it destroyed him. He was utterly inconsolable without her. He loved her.
"Aurora" the boy started to say, in a serious tone which immediately made the girl's smile falter as she looked into his eyes, he didnt need to say anything. His eyes spoke more words than he would have liked, enough for the girl to get the message and understand him. All of the glances, the subtle touches, the comfort of each other like no other. She felt and understood it all.
He was about of continue when a roar sounded, echoing in all directions and rustling the trees. The two could hear the howl of Cerberus all around them. Percy immediately uncapped riptide while Aurora unclasped her bracelet which turned into a bow and an unlimited supply of arrows.
The both circled back to back, covering each others blind spot like muscle memory. They could feel the ground shake with each step the otherworldly creature took.
"How are we going to do this?" the girl asked while keeping an eye on all of her surroundings.
"You distract with your arrows as they are long-range and while she's focused on you, I'll go for the kill shot"
"She can't die" she could feel him rolling her eyes as the words left her mouth.
"You know what I mean"
They could hear the low growl from the side of them. The three-headed beast emerged in all its glory with its 6 menacing eyes ready to rip these two teens to shreds and send the wrong beings in this equation to the underworld. Percy turned to stand next to Aurora and the girl grabbed his hand and squeezed to which he immediately responded. There were many unspoken words that had been said in the past 10 minutes and this was another addition 'dont die, be safe, come back to me'.
Slipping through her fingers, his hand left hers and quietly stalked away before the beast could get any idea there were 2 of them. Wishing the best for the boy, she instantly got the dogs attention by shooting an arrow at the middle head's nose.
It did not like that.
They all barked at once and got ready to run at the girl. She didn't like to admit it but she was fucking terrified. Cerberus ran at her and she leapt to the side and ran as fast as she could not looking back until she could feel he's a little away from her. She got another arrow ready in her bow and blindly shot it behind her.
She heard a small whimper which brought a smirk to her face but that was immediately wiped away as she heard the barking intensify. Hiding behind a tree the girl caught her breaths and looked for the hound and she couldnt spot it or Percy. She got another arrow ready and looked behind the tree once again but was faced with the thing she was hunting.
Fear spread to every part of her body and she had no time to brace the impact as the dog clawed the tree which in return clawed her. She let out a bloodcurdling scream as she was flung into another tree. The bark from the destroyed tree splintered her, her head hit against a tree on impact and the large gash on her side felt like a fire that was melting her skin off. The girl felt her breath stick in her throat, she felt as though she was dying as immense pain filled her and black spots invaded her vision. Only one other thing was on her mind.
Percy.
The ocean eyed boy lost sight of Cerberus immediately as it began to chase Aurora, his Aurora. He followed as fast as he could not wanting anything bad to happen to the girl he loved before he got any chance to be with her, to confess and to just live a life content with his feelings.
As he heard, the whoosh of Aurora's arrows increase, he could feel himself being uncapable of keeping up with the beast from the underworld and he cursed himself for it. He lost sight of Cerberus and it scared him, it was too quiet. He couldn't hear the creature or the girl he loved.
His heartbeat quickened as he looked all around him trying to see a glimpse of either of them.
Then all blood drain out of his face when he heard the one sound he wished he did not have to hear, ever. Aurora's scream made his heart almost leap out of his chest. He didnt know what to do, he didnt know where she was, he couldnt see the hound, its his fault, she going to die because of him.
She most certainly is going to die if you dont get a fucking move on, that one voice in his head said. And he pushed all the doubts to the back of his head and focused on 2 things. Defeating Cerberus and finding Aurora.
He could hear the three-headed dogs footsteps and instantly ran to it. It didnt see him coming and it's tail was on the ground so he didnt the best thing he could think of. He ran up the tail onto the body of the beast.
This elicited loud barking from the beast and Percy could only do one thing. Repeatedly stab the dog until it dissolved.
Now... admittedly, this was not a good strategy. It was fucking awful. There was no thought to his stabs, they all just angered the beast and considering she was quite resistance to stabs, it wasnt helping. He was just tiring himself out.
He then has the genius idea of stabbing the beast in the eye, or eyes. He started with the left head. The beast let out a large whimper, and stumbled which cause the boy to almost loose his grip on it. He wasnt going to stop now, he needed to send Cerberus back and get to Aurora.
Aurora. Her scream was echoing in his mind. Bouncing around his skull like he has no brain inside, only her gut-wrenching scream.
He subtly shook his head. As much as he was dreading where she was and if she was okay. He needed to secure Cerberus and he needed all attention to so it as fast a possible to get back to his sunshine.
He then stabbed riptide into both the right heads eyes. Percy knew what to expect this time so he braced himself and held on as tight as he could. He could not fail now. He was too close.
The dog slumped onto the floor which made percy's last task much more easier. With agility and caution the boy leapt onto the middle head and punctured the eyes out which evoked a whimper which made the boy feel bad for the animal and it slowly turned to dust.
In an instant the boy caught his breath and his mind raced with only one thing.
Aurora.
"Aurora! Sunshine! Where are you?" The boy felt as though he could not breathe. His head was spinning trying to find her in the mountains of trees and in the darkness of this forest, he has never needed to see her more now than any other time.
"Aurora! Please if you can hear me make a sound! Anything so I know you're alive" He would never leave her. He would die before he left her to rot in these woods. He would never be able to face the guilt and loss.
"Please! Say SOMETHING" he could feel himself getting frustrated. "HELP! SOMEONE, ANYONE" tears welded in his eyes trying to find her.
There was a rustle of leaves from the left side behind him. He was running to the sound before it even registered in the back of his mind. He kept hearing the rustling and a small whimper.
He saw a faint glow of light behind a tree and he held his breath for the sight that was to come. He skidded to a stop and fell on his knees infront of her.
His heart dropped to his stomach when he saw her. Her face was significantly paler than when he left her and she had a wood splinter sticking out of her thigh and worst of all, the 4 claw marks across her abdomen with blood everywhere, it seemed to have stopped pouring, but it was a nauseating sight to see. He didnt know what to do.
"Aurora, darling, open your eyes" his hands reached her cheeks and his thumb rubbed circled on her cheek and his two fingers made their way to her neck to check her pulse. He let out a sigh of relief when he felt a pulse. It was faint but not too faint to the point it would slip too far out of his grasp.
He reached for his bag on his back to get some first aid supplies, ambrosia and nectar for the girl, when she let out a pained gasp.
The girl had barely an recollection of anything, the only thing on her mind at the moment was the immense pain shooting through her whole body, It felt like she was on fire and couldnt breathe. She wanted to die.
Then her vision cleared and she saw the golden haired boy looked at her like she was the only thing in the whole world, he held so much worry in his eyes that she thought for a second if she was already dead and it was her spirit seeing his reaction to her death.
"Gods, Aurora, you're okay. You had be so worried, I was terrified, I cannot lose you. If I lost you I would lose myself" The boy held one hand to her cheek while speaking so intently to her.
In that one moment she could feel his stare, like clockwork, bubble something inside of her. It almost made her forget why she was on the ground, why she could taste something metallic in the back of her mouth, why she couldnt move her right leg. It almost took it away. Almost.
That fire spread throughout her body again and she couldnt stop the wail that left her mouth. The pain was nauseating. A flood of curses left Percy's mouth as he grabbed the bottle of nectar and opened it.
"Okay, sunshine, I know you're in a lot of pain but I'm going to give you some nectar, you need to drink it but you need to sit up a little straighter." The girl immediately shook her head as a no in response to the boy.
"I know. The amount of times we've both had to do it but you know deep down that its the only thing that will fix it." The girl tried to harden her stare at the boy but she was too weak to even look at him properly.
"O-okay, but... I can't" she inhaled sharply as she tried to move the slightest bit. She didn't have to finish her sentence for the boy to understand what she was trying to say. He took one his flannel button ups from his bag, scrunched it up and gave it to her. She could only give him a confused look.
"Put it in your mouth, bite down hard cause I'm gonna move you into the right position and its gonna be a pain. I'm sorry sunshine but I have to." She took it with her shaking hands and was about to put it in her mouth when she smelt it, sea salt and musk, then the girl really looked at what the item of clothing was.
"this is yours" she said in a hoarse voice, looking up at him, confusion plastered all over her features.
"Well I dont exactly know where your bag is so next best thing." he gave her a weak smile and moved closer to her but she weakly grabbed his hand.
"I'm scared" she whispered so pathetically but the boy understood, he knew her. He knew that he needed to keep talking to her, to make sure he is doing something close enough to her for her to know that she's still alive.
He only interlaced their fingers and pressed a kiss to the back of her hand.
"I won't let go, I promise. You aren't leaving me, not after everything we have been through together" the girl's eyes welled with tears but she nodded and stuffed her mouth with Percy's flannel.
He wrapped his arms around her from the side, where he was sitting and placed a kiss in the hair before counting down.
"3...2..." the boy didnt get to 1 before he pulled her up so she was sitting not laying down and with the movement came muffled screams and tears that flowed down the girls face. He was whispering sweet nothings in her ear as she lent into him and he repeatedly kissed her hair or forehead.
"I'm sorry sunshine, I really am. When you're all better I promise you can hit me" he tried to uplift her but she could barely hear him. Her body shook and agony filled her every sense. He couldn't even express the guilt and regret he felt for the girl, immediately grabbing the nectar, and slowly taking his flannel out of her mouth.
"You're doing great sweetheart" he says while slowly pouring the nectar into her mouth. Her head is resting against his shoulder as she swallows the drink down in small sips. After she drank it, Percy put it away and the girl began to close her eyes.
"Hey, hey, sunshine you can't be doing that right now. Come on I need to patch you up and then we need to get back to camp, I'll call blackjack. I know how much you like riding on him" he lifts her head off his shoulder and places her on the tree, but this time sitting up so he has easy access to her abdomen.
She opened one eye and slightly smiled at the boy.
"You're gonna call blackjack?" the girl asked a bit delirious but seemingly in less pain. This brought a instant smile to him as he let out a chuckle, nodding his head while grabbing gauze and 2 bandage rolls.
"I promise I will, but you have to make sure to keep fighting okay. Once this is over, I have something special to tell you" He came loser to the girl and her breath slowed for a moment.
He looked at her abdomen and a thought crossed his head that made blood rush to his cheeks, he was thankful the girl was delirious and it was dark or else he would simply wallow away. He cleared his throat and looked back up to the girl.
"I'm going to have to cut your shirt off so I can access the cuts and clean them properly" he looked into her eyes once but couldnt face her after that.
"okay" she whispered in return, locking her eyes onto his every move.
The boy went back into his bag and grabbed a pair of scissors then faced the girl again. He could feel her watchful eyes on him the entire time and he hated to say it but that small voice in the back of his head was wishing she was a bit more delirious right now so he wasnt under her scrutiny while undressing her. Clearing his throat again, he begins to speak.
"Just tell me when to slow down or when to stop, if it gets too painful for you and I'll stop and slow down, okay" he looked to her for reassurance and an okay, to which she nodded.
He didn't know how to position himself so he just opted for kneeling next to her, facing her. He then grabbed the scissors and started to cut her top. Starting from the bottom to the top. As he reached the first claw mark the girl hissed as the shirt was stuck to the wound due to all the dried blood. Percy automatically stopped what he was doing.
"No, no, keep going, don't stop now otherwise we will never get this done and I can't go back to camp cause I'll be dead" her honey-brown eyes were glossed with tears and the boy just wanted to hold her in his arms until the end of time in a place where they aren't fighting monsters all the damn time and in a place where they can settle down, have fun and just enjoy their life like regular teenagers.
"Don't say that so casually, you are not going to die. Not when you have me. Not when I'll always be here for you, patching you up, nursing you back to health forever. I will never in a million years let you die. I swear on the river Styx."
She couldn't say anything to him, he will always render her speechless. She just nodded her head as tears cascaded down her cheeks to which he wiped away and placed a kiss on her forehead. Feeling the warmth off eachother brought a sense of peace to them that no one else could ever fill.
He finished wiping her tears away and then continued cutting her shirt away from the wound. Every time she hissed, winced or flinched, the boy had the overwhelming urge to stop everything he was doing as long as it stopped bring her more pain. Whenever this would happen, the girl would softly squeeze his knee, as her hand was resting there to make sure he was still close to her and was still okay and breathing.
This reassured him immensely but it did not stop him from the guilt that was drowning him. This would not have happened if it wasn't for him. She would not be in this position right now if he just chose someone else to go on the quest with. She had almost died due to his decision making. He chose her, he told her the plan, the plan that put her straight into danger, he didnt even second guess his choice, he put her into the battlefield without even asking her properly. Whatever he said went.
The boy had not realised that during his intense self-loathing session, he zoned out and stopped the task at hand.
"Perce?" the girl asked while bringing her hand from his knee to his bicep. "Are you okay? whats going on in your kelp filled brain?" she said with a half smile as the boy looked up at her.
"Nothing, its okay. Just zoned out for a sec" he replied in an instant, looked away from her and continued to cut her shirt away. He was almost at her breasts and he could feel himself getting a bit hot. Obviously, there was no reason to in this situation but just being so close and intimate to her in a non sexual way made him flustered, he couldn't even imagine of it was in a sex- STOP. He shouted at his brain.
She let out a whimper of pain and a few laboured breaths as Percy carefully peeled her shirt of off the biggest wound she had. Her hand squeezed his knee harder than he would have liked her to but it didnt matter, not anymore, not when he caused this, not when he was the reason for her pain.
He finally got it off the biggest cut and last cut and now he just had to cut the rest of the shirt off. No big deal right?
WRONG.
The boy was telling himself to suck it up and just cut the rest of her shirt off but he was flustered. It was times like this that made him remember he was just a boy. He was just a boy with a silly crush. Except it isnt a 'silly crush' he was utterly in love with the girl. He tried to clear his head and at the same time, cleared his throat while he cut higher.
He could feel her eyes watching him, he could feel how fast her heart was racing and he could feel how fast his own was racing. It was as though their hearts were in sync. Every beat was the same.
Yes the girl felt flustered in this situation, she also couldn't help but want to tease the boy she loved. The girl had always grown up with a life where she never 'loved' anyone, not truly. To her love was always a very strong word in her dictionary but whatever she felt for Percy Jackson it was so powerful she felt as though she needed a word more meaningful than love.
A word that expressed how everytime she thought of him, that specific memory of him will be branded in her brain forever to the point where even Hera could never make her forget him or forget the way he makes her feel.
He makes her feel alive, the most alive shes every felt in her 16 years of life.
"Are you blushing water boy?" the girl asked him with a half smile on her face and eyes half opened as she felt a sharp pain run through her, while also trying to control her own breathing at the same time. Percy didn't respond, he only kept cutting her shirt off, fingers lightly brushing over the material of her bra.
She held her breath when he did that, whether it was on purpose of not, the feeling it sent through her body made her want to repeatedly bash her head against a solid wall while ripping her eyes out... in a good way of course.
Percy finally cut her shirt fully off and it just slid down her arms and bunched at the bottom, near the tree. She felt exposed and could feel the goosebumps on her exposed skin. Percy didn't waste any time and grabbed a clean towel and his water bottle.
Before he could drenched it in water, she stopped him by kicking him with her uncompromised leg to indicate he needed to stop. This instantly stopped him and caused him to look at her.
"Give me the water bottle before you soak the towel, if the water is warm it will work better and not hurt as much so i'll just heat it up" Percy thought about it for a second before he retaliated.
"You already aren't well enough to get off the ground, how on earth are you going to make it back to camp if you drain yourself of more energy. I know its going to hurt but it will either way, but getting you back to camp is the priority at the moment" Percy didnt want to say those words to the girl, he felt so bad for her and he couldn't help but blame himself. And when he looked into her eyes, like really looked into her eyes after he said that, he wished he could take it back.
Just looking at her made him want to give into her.
"I can take it, I promise, I'll be okay enough to get back to camp, but I'm telling you now Percy, if I feel anymore extreme pain, I will just end up passing out. Please just let me do this." she tried to move closer to the boy but forgot about the fact that she literally could not move a single inch without his help.
This just lead the boy to wrap his arm around her back and lent her against the tree again. He looked at her with a stern look.
"Okay, you win. But you have to promise on the river Styx that you will preserve every other bit of your energy for the ride back home."
"I swear on the River Styx that I will preserve every other bit of my energy for the ride back to camp" He gave her one last look before giving her the water bottle. She focused some most of her energy to her hands and they started to glow. She took the bottle from percy's hand and he could feel the warmth radiate off of her.
He looked at her in awe but if anyone else was there they would have told you that the boy was love struck. She opened her eyes and made sure to not boil the water. As it was simmering, she gave the bottle back to the boy and he instantly uncapped it and poured the, now warm, water onto the towel.
"This is going to hurt... a lot, and by a lot i mean a lot, you might want to brace yourself" the boy said as he gave his flannel back to her and some ambrosia for her to eat before they start the painful part of fixing her up.
Aurora took both and muttered a small thanks under her breath before eating the ambrosia which was very pleasant to chew and then stuffed percy's flannel in her mouth again. She felt so weird but if she didnt and someone heard her scream bloody murder, they would get caught and the police would want them... again.
His ocean blue eyes met her honey eyes and he shared a look of regret and guilt before he wiped the dried blood away, starting from the bottom of her abdomen. She instantly clenched her jaw and recoiled as agony ran through her and her hand immediately shot out to grab Percy's wrist in a painfully tight hold to stop him from further cleaning the wounds that caused her pain.
"Sunshine, I know its painful, but I have to do this, I'm going to do this as fast and gently as I can but I will have to be rough at times" he gently takes his freehand to clasp over hers and took it of him and intertwined them while speaking to her.
In his favour, it seemed that the energy it took the girl to warm the water up finally caught up with her as her hand lost most of its grip and her eyes closed slightly. He chuckled slightly and placed her hand back down next to her before continuing what he was doing.
He carefully but efficiently cleaned the areas surrounding her wounds while she was rejuvenating. He would hear muffled noises from time to time but other than that she was essentially knocked out. As he finished she seemed to feel less tired and her eyes opened wider than they did before.
"I'm almost finished sunshine, did you like your nap?" the boy questioned with a smirk but deep down he was glad that she kept her promise and she would have enough energy to go back to camp.
The girl nodded and looked at her abdomen. It was really clean and the wounds were barely bleeding anymore but she was fucking freezing. She shivered a little bit and percy could tell instantly.
"I've just got to bandage you up then you can put a jumper on. Okay?" he reassured her while taking the sterile dressing, he placed it over the 4 slashes and began to unwrap the dressing to bandage her up.
They both soon found the position to be quite awkward.
Percy needed to bandage her whole abdomen which needed him to wrap the dressing over her back but she was lent up against the tree without a shirt on and unable to move to do it herself. He stopped to think of a good way to do this.
"Okay, I've got it. I'll lean you up against me and bandage your abdomen from behind." The girl thought for a bit before she agreed and the boy got up so he was only seen in her peripheral vision. He hooked his arms under hers and moved her along the ground to sit inbetween his legs. The position felt very compromising for both of them but it needed to be done.
She could feel his warm breath on her cold neck and she felt the urge to pass away because if thats how she passed, she would not mind. She held her breath as Percy begun wrapping her abdomen, she could barely feel the pain cause all she could think about and feel was him.
His breath on her neck, his fingers brushing her skin, how carefully he was handling her, like she would break at the wrong touch. He was everything she wanted, everything she needed. Everything they both deserved.
He quickly finished wrapping her up and he mentally called Blackjack from where ever he was right now. Before he could move or start to get things sorted he just looked at Aurora. She was peaceful. She looked ethereal under the moonlight, though she did look better under direct sunlight.
He decided to just stay still for a bit and wrapped an arms around the girl loosely as to not injure or hurt her more. They just needed some rest, no matter how long or short it was.
Both Aurora and Percy could hear the flap of Blackjacks wings so he quickly moved the girl back to lean against the tree while he packed everything away. Not before making sure to torniquet the girls leg where the wood piece was still protruding out of it. He made the decision before to not take it out as they both did not know how severe the injury underneath it was.
Percy grabbed a warm, woolly jumper from his bag and a blanket and gave both items to the girl before zipping it up.
"I'm going to find your bag and your bracelet before we leave, and before you say anything. I'm going to call Blackjack here to be with you before I look for them" he stated as he got up.
"Thanks a lot Perce, but before you look, how am I meant to put this jumper on without raising my arms and disrupting my bandages" Percy felt like an idiot. He dropped his bag back on the ground and knelt next to her carefully putting the jumper through one arms hole, then the next, then her head through.
Percy would never admit it there and then but he always loved when the girl would wear his clothes. It sent a warm fuzzy feeling through him knowing she was wearing his clothes, especially when she was willingly wearing his clothes.
Similarly, Aurora would never admit it there but having Percy help her get changed into his clothes and help clean her up made her fall even more in love with him if that was even possible. She felt as though she was just falling into deep pit everytime he did anything for her or even just looked her way.
He finished by wrapping her up in the blanket and chuckled when he saw how she looked... Exactly like a burrito.
Blackjack came down and the girls eyes instantly widened at the sight of the creature. To which the boy just smiled at. Before he left to retrieve her bag and bracelet which were very easy to find. He quickly arrived back to the girl and Pegasus and was met with an adorable sight.
The Pegasus was on the floor next to the girl and was almost hugging her with its wing. Percy didnt think he could fall in love with the girl again but she has gone and proved him wrong, like always.
"I've got your things sunshine, and I know its going to hurt but I'm going to have to pick you up to put you on Blackjack. Is that okay?" He knelt next to her and she nodded.
He wrapped an arm around her back and one under her knees, making sure not to hit the piece of wood and picked the girl up, quite easily, bridal style. It make them both feel fuzzy and warm inside. Even blackjack could feel the warmth.
He placed her sitting on the Pegasus so she would be infront of him when he got on. He then grabbed both of their bags and got onto blackjack himself.
"You'd normally need to hold on tight to blackjack but I'll hold you okay? Just rest" The boy whispered in her ear as he gave her a peck on her cheek while she slowly drifted off and leaned her head back onto the boy's shoulder.
"Blackjack, No crazy flying today. We aren't at war today, its a rest day. Just take us back to camp, quick but not to the point we normally fly." Blackjacks reply left Percy with pink staining his cheeks and they made their way back to camp.
______________________________________________________________
OH MY FUCKING DAYS, I AM NEVER WRITING ANYTHING THIS LONG AGAIN
(such a fucking lie)
But I have to honest, apart from the small mental breakdowns. This was really fun to write. I love these two soo much.
When I went into this, I wanted to actually get them back to camp and I wanted them to confess but it was getting tooooooo long for that so if anyone wants a part 2, I'll gladly make it. Please dont critique me too much, this is still my first imagine 😭😭😭
I LOVE YOU ALL ❤️❤️❤️
unless you piss me off
#percy jackson x reader#percy jackson#percy series#percy pjo#pjo tv show#pjo fandom#pjo series#pjo#percy jackson x oc#percy jackson imagines#percy jackson imagine#percy jackson series#rick riordan#riordanverse#idk how tags work#idk how to work this app#first imagine#please be nice#totally not begging#i need moots#luke castellan x reader#luke castellan#medusa bae#walker scobell#happy birthday walker#i need ep 5 rn#gonna die#all-nighter#gonna go bed now#i need to sort my routine out
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ɪɪ. ᴡʜᴀᴛ’s ʟᴇғᴛ ʙᴇʜɪɴᴅ
ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ – ɴᴇʏᴛɪʀɪ & ᴊᴀᴋᴇ X ᶠᴱᴹ ᴼᴹᴬᵀᴵᴷᴬᵞᴬ ᴿᴱᴬᴰᴱᴿ
ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ – 6.2k
ɢᴇɴʀᴇ – angst
ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs – major character death, war, ptsd, unrequited love
ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ’s ɴᴏᴛᴇ – Still a non-linear storyline, so this entire part is set in the past. This part is also a lot shorter than usual!
ᴘᴀʀᴛ ɪ
ᴛᴀɢ ʟɪsᴛ – @eywas-heir @amiets2 @neteyamforlife @sunrays404 @im-in-a-pansexual-panik @eternallyvenus @bobojojoba69 @behindthearcane @elegantkidfansoul @ladylovegood-69 @pinkiemme @arminsgfloll @wtf-why-do-i-gotta-do-this @onlyreadz @ghost-lantern @calums-betch @crazy4books1 @meladollsims @yeosxxx @sillyfreakfanparty
Jake never does wake up. It’s like tossing a crystal off a cliff and watching it shatter on the rocks below, watching hundreds of glitter shards scatter to the wind and knowing there’s no way to gather them all. Once a cut is made there’s no removing the presence of the blade. There will always be a scar. Healed and faded but never completely hidden from view. There was always the knowledge that Jake lived with a false body, that he was a Sky Demon wearing the face of the People. But knowing is different from seeing. Knowing that his body is empty, not asleep, a cup spilled and hollow without anything to fill it. Someone was kind enough to help Neytiri find a place to settle his body.
If not for his chest rising and falling, it would be easy to imagine his stillness as death. But his skin is still warm, his heartbeat still thrumming through his veins. He’s pliable as water, running between your fingers as you lift his arm, bending it this way and that as if to find some new flaw in his stolen physique. His veins march in rivers beneath his blue skin, patterned with the same dark markings of any true born Na’vi. His likeness is remarkable save for the things the human scientists could never perfect. As a child, Grace had explained that their hands and feet with those extra appendages were like a syaksyuk’s split arms, to remove one would be to unbalance the creature needlessly. Like removing a Na’vi’s tail. A body used to having five fingers would need to relearn to use only four, she told you. Jake’s hand is heavy in yours as you turn his hand over between your own. Warm and hardened from months of training. When he’d come to the clan on that fateful night, led by Neytiri and a sign from the Great Mother he’d been smooth. Soft and thin as a child, but in time he’d learned and grown into a man worthy of the Omatikaya clan. His palms are calloused and muscles defined, pulling taut beneath his skin like the string of a bow as you rediscover the shape of his body.
It’s so strange how closely you’ve become acquainted with the form of an uniltìrantokx. All your life you’ve been taught to fear the demons from the sky, the monsters that descended upon your peaceful home and ravaged it like a sickness with no cure, a plague upon all that they touched. The very ground beneath your feet bears scars of the Sky People. Poisons leaked from their dwellings and swathes of land lost to the metal creatures that know only to seek and destroy. Tears burn anew in your eyes as you think of the yellow behemoths chewing through the glade of Spirit Trees with no regards to their sacred value. All of those that had gone before you, yet lived on within Eywa, lost in an instant like a scent washed clean by the rain.
Somewhere, Tsu’tey is rallying the clan to strike back against the terror these demons have wrought. The tenuous bond that was made with the intentions of peace has been slowly fraying, day by day, and now it’s been severed completely. A knife that cut clean and quick through the years of fragile peace. Retribution is in order. What they’ve done is not a slight that can be taken in silence. A weeping gash has been torn through the clan and the suffering must be returned in kind. First blood has been drawn.
With the iknimaya celebration having passed not even a day ago, it all seems to have happened with such perfect timing. As if the Sky People knew of the warriors that would be joining the ranks of the adults within the clan. A few days earlier and some might not have been considered to defend the People. Children are precious and only a few are ever chosen to join a fight before their time. Your eyes fall to Jake. His face looks just the same as it has for the past few hours as the sun creeps higher in the sky. Grace is laid a few paces away. Both quiet as death. A bolt of doubt strikes through your chest like an arrow dipped in acid. A burning that spreads through your chest like a web, poisoning every corner of your mind with ideas of those you’ve allowed into your home betraying the People’s trust. Grace who you once called sa’nok. Jake who you had bound your life to, albeit with great hesitance. He was your mate now, for better or worse. And it seemed that with each passing moment, a storm was drawing ever nearer.
A shadow thundering over the horizon as you remain at your post, watching over the demons as Tsu’tey had instructed. He didn’t trust Neytiri with the task and he needed every one of his students present for the war council. His trust weighs heavily on your shoulders, misplaced and absolute. It hadn’t been only Neytiri that betrayed him, hadn’t been only Jakesully that mated with his promised woman. But now was not the time for such confessions. Another severed bond would only serve to further weaken the clan from within. So you shut the guilt tight within yourself, burying it deep within your heart to be dealt with when the time comes. For now, all that plagues your mind is worries of the war to come. You’d been far closer to the might of these Sky People than most. Thoughts of blood and bullets crowd your mind, hand curling tighter around Jake’s for comfort.
Seeking out your mate with an instinctual fervor even as the bond slips in and out of focus like blinking water from your eyes. It’s shimmery and elusive. A single thread where there should be an unbreakable rope tied between your hearts. The bond wavers, made worse as you try to reach for a person that isn’t there. Jake is only a body at this moment. An empty vessel waiting to be inhabited. Your nails dig desperately into his skin as fear chokes you, clutching tight to his hand. He doesn’t flinch, doesn’t move. He lays still as panic overtakes you. The feeling threatens to drown you. Tears burn in your eyes and drip across his skin as your feelings roar forth all at once. It is as safe a place as any to allow yourself to be lost in your anguish. Though there are three bodies in the alcove hidden within Hometree, only one is real. Somehow, even in company, you’re completely alone.
The feeling burns through your, in your eyes and beneath your skin. Simmering like nectar on a hot stone, bubbling and turning acrid as you sob through another wave of grief. It’s like stones being stacked on your chest, the weight growing and growing, threatening to crack through your ribs and crush your heart beneath the weight. It had started as a few pebbles. Small slights and forgettable offenses committed by the Sky People in your childhood. But in the time since, they’ve only grown more audacious, more greedy. Taking and taking until there’s nothing left to give. The loss of Utraya Mokri is nearly enough to crush your spirit to ash yet you’ve remained standing. Though there’s no certainty for how much longer you can bear it. One more devastation and you’ll surely crumble beneath the weight. You squeeze Jake’s hand again as a sob silently wracks your shoulder, muffled and choked as you try to contain your sadness. This time there’s a slight twitch to his fingers as if he’s finally noticed the weight of your hand in his. Grace comes to first, rolling to her knees and then scrambling to her feet.
There’s a frantic look about her eyes as she tries to gain her bearings before her gaze settles on you kneeling beside Jake. He wakes with the same erraticism, jumping to his feet so quickly it knocks you to the wayside. It’s so strange that in a single moment the comfort he offered has dried up. Seeing him return to his false body reminded you that he was nothing more than an illusion, that his soul could never truly be bound to yours, or anyone else’s. In the silence there was the comfort of familiarity but seeing him awake, kneeling before you as the tears dry on your cheeks. Jake suddenly looks like a stranger.
“I was sent here to–” The words echo in your mind even as his thumbs brush away the last of your tears. He presses a kiss to your lips, his forehead resting against yours, and all you can muster is a feeling of betrayal. Who was this man that was speaking to you so gently?
“It’s okay, I’m okay,” he’s telling you as if you’d been in fear for his safety. Perhaps Neytiri had been afraid. Her voice was scratched with panic as she went to Grace’s side; her eyes flashed with rage after Tsu’tey dared to set his blade against Jake’s neck. Yet all you could muster was fear for yourself, for your home. Fear of what kind of people you’d let into your heart. Once, you’d thought Tsu’tey’s persistent hatred to be exhausting. Anger for the sake of it when all you wanted to do was forget. But now you see it for what it is. A desperate bid for self preservation. There was no forgetting the scars carved through your life by the hands of the Sky People. No masking the hatred that burned deep in your heart for what they’ve done. Hostility is an instinct taught to you from birth, and you chose to ignore it to please the whims of your heart. Neytiri had learned kindness and so too had you. And that gentility has been taken for granted.
It makes you cry harder. Jake soothes you with a sort of hastened affection as Grace paces the small hollow. Her tail curls anxiously, ears pulled tight against her head as she clenches and releases her fists.
“Baby, look at me.” You want to tell him that you’re not a baby. That your tears are well-founded, but you can’t find the words as his thumbs brush over your cheeks. “We have to talk to Mo’at and Eytukan. Now, right now.”
“It can’t wait,” Grace insists as Jake urges you to your feet. By the time the three of you reach the heart of Hometree, your tears have dried, though you aren’t certain of how long it will last.
Neytiri is the first to notice the three of you, coming to Jake’s side with a swiftness that takes his hand from yours before anyone could take note of it. If Grace had words for how she felt hearing Jake speak so intimately with you she kept them to herself, far more interested in the more pressing matter of an audience with your tsahìk and olo’eyktan. Neytiri calls to her parents, pulling Jake behind her, and they part from their war plans with a guarded curiosity. Mo’at raises her hands to silence the buzzing crowd so Jake might speak and be heard. Nearly the entire clan is gathered. Young and old, man and woman are gathered to hear what the dreamwalker has to say. He draws in a deep breath as if to gather his strength before he speaks.
“A great evil is upon us. The Sky People are coming to destroy Hometree.” He says in carefully enunciated Na’vi. Quieter, to Neytiri, he says, “Tell them they’re going to be here soon.” And she does. His words move through the clan like a ripple over still waters, raising a hum of fear and aggression.
“You have to leave, or you’re gonna die.” His words are final. As though he’s already seen what will come of this. And perhaps he has. How easily they’d turned the Trees of Voices to ruin. Though Hometree was far bigger, it seemed something these demons from the sky were capable of. With their rumbling metal beasts and their sparking guns. A chill rushes over you as cold as rainfall. More bullets. More death. It was all these Sky People were good for.
“Are you certain of this?” Mo’at demands. Moments ago her most pressing concern was seeking vengeance for the destruction of a sacred place. Now the tsahìk has to contend with the thought of her clan’s ancestral home being annihilated. Your eyes sweep over the open space within the roots of Kelutral. There is the fire pit still smoldering with the breakfast cookfire. The totem of toruk’s skeleton that has been passed down through generations of the Omatikaya as a precious show of strength and resilience. The mother loom that even now has hands weaving upon it. Your very life has been kept safe within the cradle of Hometree and these demons seek to destroy it.
A pit opens in your stomach. Hollow and gnawing as your fingers dance over the shape of your songcord. It’s an act of comfort, touching each bead and knowing each memory by shape alone. The bead for Sylwanin’s death, the flat river stone to match the color of your ikran, the jagged bit of crystal for your iknimaya. The litany of beads and knots to commemorate the chorus that ties every Na’vi life together. Soon there’d be more to add. For your mating. For a battle with the Sky People. The loose end of your cord is frayed between anxious fingers as you pull at the threads, waiting for a shred of reassurance. None comes.
“They sent me here, to learn your ways, so one day I could bring this message and you would believe me.” Jake says.
I was sent here to–kill. Destroy. Lie. A word that had no meaning before these demons descended upon your home. It was your mistake for thinking Jake could be any different. Though he wears his anguish plainly, as if your pain is shared when he meets your eyes. His gaze is heavy, pleading, and you step back as if to lessen the weight. This isn’t your burden to bear. All that he’s done, he did for himself. Neytiri isn’t so hesitant in her disbelief. She pushes forward. Reaching towards him as though her hands might reshape the words he’s said.
“What are you saying Jake?” Her voice is unsteady as rushing water. “You knew this would happen?”
He hesitates for a moment before he speaks. “Yes.”
“Look, at first it was just orders, then everything changed. I fell in love,” he tries to smile. “I fell in love with the forest, with the Omatikaya people,” he reaches to hold her and it’s like a spark that lights a fire. Neytiri pushes his hands aside, her face crumbling beneath the weight of his words.
“With you.” He says as though it will fix anything.
“I trusted you,” she says quietly. Jake’s eyes cut between the two of you. You stare back, tears welling in your eyes. The love you felt for Jake was not the same as Neytiri’s. She was in love with him. Consumed by the desperate fervor that made her betray all the plans that were made for her. She was willing to throw her life away for him. To deny her calling as tsakarem and never assume the mantle of tsahìk. She made a sacrifice with her very soul. As had you in some accidental, tangled moment of lust. Your spirits were now bound until death and it had only taken mere hours for Jake to so utterly betray that bond. The tips of your ears burned hot with shame. It simmered within you like a poison, searing through your veins until all you felt was an encompassing numbness. Like a salve being spread over a burn, the pain fizzled and faded until your heart felt cold as stone in your chest. This is what kindness has gotten you. Perhaps if you’d been hardened by your pain like Tsu’tey, this moment might’ve glanced off your skin like rain hissing to steam over fire.
Jake and Neytiri exchange the same words. Over and over. With you. I trusted you. One is present, constant. Jake loves Neytiri even now. Yet the same can’t be said for her, for you. Whatever love you might’ve had for the uniltìrantokx was lost the moment he voiced his betrayal.
“Trust me now, please.” He’s begging now. Quietly, he says your name as if you’ll have words to heal what has been hurt. His pleas fall upon deaf ears. Neytiri speaks for both of you as she rages at him. Screaming and hissing, pushing him away and stripping him of the one thing he’d been fighting for.
“You will never be one of the People!”
“Neytiri, please–” He steps towards her, arms outstretched as if to hold her, but you take the moment from him. Neytiri falls heavily into your arms and still Jake moves closer, begging desperately.
“No!” You hiss as Neytiri buries her head in your neck, tears wetting your skin. No. He doesn’t get to speak to her. He doesn’t get to look at her. Not her. Not you. “No.”
Neytiri’s quiet sobs ring in your ear as Mo’at wraps her arms around the two of you. A soft, comforting whisper of “ma ite,” reaches you over the sound of Neytiri’s whimpers as the tsahìk takes pity on her daughter. Both of you were led astray by the lies of an outsider. Mo’at’s hand brushes over your hair as Eytukan calls for Jake and Grace to be bound.
“You have to leave!” Grace insists. “They’re coming!” It doesn’t matter. This is your home and none of you are leaving it without a fight. Tsu’tey deals with the traitors, binding Jake’s hands and leading them to the seldom-used platform erected just outside of Hometree. It’s a simple structure decorated with bones. A place of quiet death. It’s meant for the worst offenses committed within the clan. That which cannot be atoned for so easily. It’s a place meant for the People, to offer dignity even in death. Sky People do not deserve such treatment. It proves the clan’s respect even in the face of such great betrayal. You stand by as Tsu’tey’s warriors bind the traitors, heart conflicted as you watch your mate and teacher be prepared for death. Part of you wonders if it would only mean death for these bodies. You know that somewhere far away, their human bodies are safe from reach. But to kill them in this way would sever the bond they’ve formed with the Omatikaya. It is greatly deserved but there is a fragmented piece of you that mourns the loss of the people you thought you knew.
“Watch them.” Tsu’tey grunts before heading back towards Hometree. It is a show of trust that he would leave you with his students to mind the captives. There isn’t a thought in his mind that you might think to free them the moment his back is turned. There’s a fierce loyalty within you and it will not be bent or broken by Jake’s pleading. He says your name so gently that you almost imagine that he could truly love you the way he says. But a man that loves you would never do this to you. To your people. To your home. Still, he speaks as a mate would. Calling to you to help him.
“Baby, please, you have to listen to me,” he begs. “They’re gonna burn this place to the ground. You have to go now.”
“Be silent. I will hear no more from you.” He doesn’t heed your words. Jake has always been talkative, filling the air with the sound of his voice, but now more than ever you wish for him to be quiet. There’s no amount of simpering and sorrow that would get you to abandon your home without a fight. This was the place that had seen your birth. Countless lives had bloomed and withered, returned to Eywa, within the comfort of Kelutral. To leave now would be to forsake your ancestors who had lived and fought for the life you lead now. Their memory is worth defending no matter what is to come.
The humans are not silent in their approach. The thundering buzz of their flying ships echoes through the air, seeming to come from all sides. For a moment the sky is a clear blue, then shapes dark as storm clouds are closing in from above. It feels like a storm has gathered as the whirring ships bring heavy winds. Leaves stir through the air, slicing against your skin as you hold tight to your bow. Something shoots from the ships, small and shining in the sunlight. Each one arcs overhead and lands between the roots of Hometree, bursting in clouds of gray-green smoke. They’ve made the first move, though blood may not have been drawn. Eytukan gives the order to shoot, but every arrow seems insufficient. They glance off the largest ship like stones skipping over water. It feels futile even as you deplete your arrows following the olo’eyktan’s orders. Your arrows fly and fall in quick succession, arms burning with the effort it takes to draw your bow so quickly. It’s all meaningless as the demon ship fires again, flames burning bright as the sun overhead as weapons you had no name for hurtled towards Hometree.
Larger than any bullet you’d ever seen, they landed with an earth-shattering certainty. The flames took to Kelutral with the swiftness of the wind, plumes of smoke billowed from between the large roots as fire roared through the place you’d been raised. Inside you knew the totems you’d been taught beneath, the looms you’d learned to weave upon, the memories of your childhood were being reduced to ash as simply as wood in a cooking pit. More than that, clan members that had chosen not to fight were still inside, and higher within the tree must be Tsu’tey and his warriors because you’d yet to see any banshees take towards the sky. Your home, your people were burning. Another arrow shoots from your bow and as you reach for another your eyes catch on Jake and Grace still bound amid the chaos. Jake shouts as though he’s been wounded, eyes round with fear as he watches Hometree burn. Then his eyes catch on yours, still staring at him with your arrow half string. There’s a reason for your hesitance that you can’t place but Eytukan is calling for a retreat and you don’t have a moment to wonder over the stall in your actions.
The air is choked with a haze of smoke and rain of leaves, screams piercing through the buzzing of the Sky Demons’ flying machines as the clan flees to the forest. One moment, you’re alone in the chaos and the next Neytiri is crashing into you, shoving you forward. Running only takes you so far before the earth is rippling underfoot, buckling your knees before knocking you to the ground. Then everything goes still. There’s a moment to gather your bearings and you rouse to your knees, pulling Neytiri close to your side. She clings to you so tightly that her nails bite into your skin and you let her. The pain wards off the numbness that’s begun to consume you. It feels as though you’ve walked into a stream. Shallow at first, then deeper and deeper until the water has swallowed you completely. Everything is cold and muffled as your eyes stare up at the canopy. As a child, it seemed as wide as the sky, Hometree unshakable as a mountain. Yet the mountain is beginning to crumble. There’s a groaning noise like stripping bark to make a bow and then Kelutral pitches forward. Falling.
Darkness grows as the massive tree topples towards you, too quickly to outpace. There’s only mere moments for you to evade the falling limbs. Shards of bark rain like arrows, pricking at your skin as you sprint towards the closest piece of light you can find, a place where the shadow of Hometree doesn’t touch. Around you there are the screams of those that weren’t quick enough. Loud for a moment and then silent forever. When the ground goes still, you shakily find your feet. The air is full of dirt and ash, and the anguished sound of mourning. For the fall of your home, for the death of your people. Broken branches scatter across the ground and you’re struck with a sense of disbelief. Hadn’t this place been filled with happiness only hours before? The night had been spent in celebration. So quickly the music and laughter had gone silent. A sound shatters through the sound of blood rushing in your ears and it isn’t until Neytiri pulls you into her embrace that you realize you’re screaming. It’s something past tears. Anguished wrath bubbles in your throat, loud and steady until your voice begins to give out in shuddering waves that chip off into silence.
Neytiri’s sorrow is quieter. Her breaths come quickly in your ear, gasping as if she can’t quite believe the sight set before her. It seems so impossible. Hometree has stood for generations as the ancestral home of the Omatikaya and now it was simply and irrevocably gone.
“Ma sempul,” she says at last, “ma sa’nok. They’ll know what to do.” Because something must be done. She speaks with empty regard. There is truly no way to know if they’ll know what to do but what more can you think to do than look to your olo’eyktan and tsahìk for guidance? There is nothing else left. It’s all burning. Neytiri stumbles away, bow in hand, in search of her parents. She’s slow at first but you watch her walk past the bodies strewn across the ground and pick up her pace. Voice calling out for her father. You go in the opposite direction in the search of the tsahìk. Many will be seeking Mo’at’s guidance and you can only hope the Great Mother has preserved her life as you sidestep those that were lost in the fall. Bodies streaked with blood and ash. Hands still clutching their bows and most precious belongings.
It’s easier to recognize yourself slipping away this time. How many? How many more of the People will die at the hands of these demons? So many lives lost without reason. Simply because they had the strength to do it. Even an animal did not hunt with this much impunity. There was always cause, balance. As the Great Mother intended.
Only moments ago, you’d been running. Leaping over fallen branches and ducking beneath curling ferns, but as you fall deeper into your mind, your gait begins to slow to a stumble. It feels as though you’re trudging through mud as you stagger through the rain of ash. No longer certain of what you’d been running from or towards. Small fires flare around you like the flames of a cooking pit. Warmth licks at your legs as you pass in your confusion. There’d been something you were looking for but you can’t seem to place it. It feels as though you’re chasing a memory. Walking towards some unreachable destination. Still you walk on, weaving a sinuous path through the ruins of your home. There’s something warm on your face like the kiss of sunlight but when you touch it your hand comes away slicked in red. Your legs fall still, no longer chasing that unknown place.
It’s suddenly all around you. The school and yet Hometree. The blood is yours and Sylwanin’s. A garbled scream tears from your throat, low and graveled as she walks towards you. Her voice sounds wrong. Her hands feel wrong as they grab your shoulders. She hadn’t gotten close enough to hold you though you remember her bloody drying sticky between your outstretched fingers. It’s all wrong, made worse when the voice solidifies in your head, brings you back to yourself.
It’s Jake. He’s grasping at your shoulders, brushing the blood from your cheek. He seems uncertain of himself, though you can hear the attempt at comfort in his voice. It does little to soothe you. Something in your heart aches at the way your bond seems to strain and fray with each passing moment. But never breaking. Tsaheylu is made with the intention of eternity. Jake will be your mate until death no matter the regret that comes. He says your name with just the right cadence for you to regain some semblance of strength and you shove him away.
“Don’t touch me!” You hiss. He jerks away from your rage. “Traitor! Get away from here. Never come back.” And he does. There’s a great hesitance in his retreat but he leaves you, eyes shimmering with longing. It’s too late for such affections and if your heart weren’t already crushed by his betrayal and the carnage that followed, you might’ve felt your soul tearing in two as you watched your mate turn his back on you. It would be alright, you had another.
Neytiri finds you later, after the long journey to the Tree of Souls. In times of great strife such as this, there was nowhere else to seek refuge but at the place where Eywa’s presence was felt the strongest. It was almost like a heartbeat thrumming beneath your feet as you bathed in the purple light of the clan’s most sacred place. Anyone that knew how to heal was busy with the injured and Neytiri had only just found a moment to join you in the alcove you claimed for yourself. The mossy stone was no replacement for the comfort of Hometree but it was all that any of you would have for some time. Already the elders of the clan have begun to weave. Kelku are simple enough to make but they take time to weave the outer walls and craft the wooden frame. Other things could not be so easily replaced. You thought of the mother loom and the totem of toruk. How long had his bones and his legend been passed down through the Omatikaya and now there was nothing to show that such a great leader had ever existed within the clan. There’d be only songs and memories now.
“I am sorry, yawne,” Neytiri says to break the silence. “I should’ve listened to you. I should’ve never opened my heart to that man.”
She still can’t seem to bring herself to insult him. Demon, Tsu’tey had called him. A traitor is what he is. And yet Neytiri can’t bring herself to call him anything more than a man. Her hand wrings the braid of her tswin as if trying to scrub away his touch. She looks as you must have last night. Awkward and unsure, but mated all the same. Jake tied tsaheylu without knowing its true meaning. While knowing his original intention for joining the clan. No matter how his plans had changed, he was still a betrayer. Had Neytiri not been his teacher–if he’d been given someone more abrasive as his guide–his orders would’ve likely been heeded without question. It was only because he couldn’t help but fall in love that he tried to abandon his mission. A liar and a coward. A man that no longer deserved his place among the People. It’s your hope that the memories of Jake would turn to ash in your mind, like forgotten wisps lost to the wind. He was no mate of yours.
Neytiri sags against you, her face buried in the length of your throat. Her nose is a cold spot against the warmth of your skin, warm breath washing across your skin. So much had changed so quickly. Only last night you’d been unmated and willing to let your love for Neytiri wither and die. Months ago Jake had been a stranger encroaching on your clan’s hunting grounds and now he’d betrayed the trust Mo’at instilled, that you’d so naively taken to heart. With time, perhaps you could’ve loved him as a mate. There were moments when you might’ve been content to live beside him despite it all, if Neytiri was mated to Tsu’tey as had been expected since her sister’s death. So many plans had been unmade by his presence. And some came to fruition quicker than expected. Tsu’tey has ascended to his position as olo’eyktan years before his time. Neytiri had found her father when she went searching for him. Found him dying in the rubble of your ruined home, shot through with a fragment of Hometree like an arrow. As she clung, weeping, to you, she shared his last words, “protect the People.” They were all that was left. The clan was a people not a place, though Hometree had become such a symbol of safety and togetherness. A home shared between hundreds. Now it was gone.
Sounds of mourning rang through the stone cliffs surrounding the Tree of Souls. Voices lamented the melody of lost songcords, of those that couldn’t be found in the flame and ash. Young and old had been lost. Mothers lost children, brothers lost sisters. And without the Tree of Voices, songs were all that was left to remember them by. Not even their cords to ponder between their fingers as they’re been left with the bodies that wore them. Everyone that wasn’t breathing still was left behind. A burden that would not be worth the effort to carry so far. Grace had been one such person spared from abandonment. She’d collapsed at the crest of a hill, body falling still and silent in that death-like way Jake’s always did when he slept. Her soul had been torn from her body once more. You expect that Jake suffered the same fate wherever he was in the rain of ash. He was one that was left behind. No one would sing the few meager beats of his fledgling songcord.
In your ear Neytiri hums soft as birdsong. It’s a familiar melody that you’ve heard throughout your life. Mo’at sang it as she worked and Neytiri when she was distraught. It was her father’s song. One that spoke of strength and duty. While Tsu’tey has spent his life training to take his place, Eytukan has cast a long shadow for him to live up to. Though he is trying. He stands on the raised stone beneath the swaying branches of the Tree of Souls, lingering beside Mo’at as she addresses a group of people. From a distance you can’t hear their words, can hardly see their faces, but they seem comforted by the words of their tsahìk.
“You should be with them.” You nudge Neytiri gently, trying to coax her from her spot hidden beneath the veil of your braids. Her eyes are bright in the waning light of the sun, eclipse settling with a sense of melancholy.
“I can’t,” she mumbles. “Mother said that I chose this path, that I might never become tsahìk now that I’ve tarnished myself. My life will be wasted.” All it had taken was a moment of weakness and she was tainted forever. The bond of tsaheylu will not wilt or waver even in death. Such things dig deep, sprouting roots upon your very soul. Jake, in his ignorance, had no way to truly know what he was doing, but Neytiri did. You did, and yet you tied your kuru even still. Hidden in the recesses of your heart like a single flower blooming in the darkness of a cave was your love for Neytiri. Sequestered in a place where it might never see the light of day. And yet in a moment of selfishness you had tossed aside the years of teachings that told you it was best to stifle some desires in service of the greater good.
Neytiri as tsakarem could be mated to no one but the future olo’eyktan. This was known. A belief that had been passed down since the time of the First Songs. It’s hard to imagine that there had been no other tsakarem who desired someone she could never have, yet she’d done her duty to the clan and mated with her arranged partner. There was honor in doing what was expected of you yet Neytiri had lived so much of her life without expectation. She wasn’t meant to be tsahìk, she was meant to be yours. Surely the Great Mother would not fault her for faltering on the path her sister was meant to walk. After all, it was Sylwanin that was meant to be tsahìk. If she had lived, none of this would have happened. Or perhaps her survival would’ve only prolonged the inevitable.
The Sky People came for your clan in the end. Destroyed your home and slaughtered your people. It just as easily could’ve been Sylwanin that died in the fall of Hometree. Another name added to those you must mourn. There were no words of comfort you could offer. Nothing to promise that everything would be better with time. Before, you might’ve been able to say that the future would be brighter. But now when you think of tomorrow, all you imagine is ash and smoke.
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Elain trembled in the upholstered, carved wood chair to her left. I did them all a favor and took the one to Nesta’s right. Cassian claimed the spot beside Elain, who clenched her fork as if she might wield it against him, and Rhys slid into the seat beside me, Azriel on his other side. A faint smile bloomed upon Azriel’s mouth as he noticed Elain’s fingers whiteknuckled on that fork, but he kept silent, focusing instead, as Cassian was subtly trying to do, on adjusting his wings around a human chair.
SJM often signals her desired endgame couples through their first impressions or, at the very least, reveals in their point of view what they initially thought when they met their intended partner across all books.
Now, of course, arguments can be made about Elain and Azriel that it's similar to Nesta and Cassian. However, Nesta had never felt fear towards Cassian. Elain's reaction is very similar to how Feyre reacted when she first met Tamlin in beast-form at their cottage, and that fear carried through when she was brought to the Spring Manor and met Lucien.
If we were compare this to how Elain's first time meeting Lucien:
Elain’s feet slipped against the floor, but Nesta gripped her upright, running her hands over Elain’s face, her shoulders, her hair— “Elain, Elain, Elain,” she sobbed. Cassian again stirred—trying to rise, to answer Nesta’s voice as she held my sister and cried her name again and again. But Elain was staring over Nesta’s shoulder. At Lucien—whose face she had finally taken in. Dark brown eyes met one eye of russet and one of metal.
Cringing away from his coat is normal, but Elain also didn't fight back when Lucien draped his jacket over her, nor did she resist when Lucien hoisted her up from the floor. SJM made sure to focus on how Elain looked at Lucien in these moments while keeping his jacket on her shoulders. It wasn't Lucien trying to catch a glimpse of Elain. It wasn't Lucien ignoring Tamlin's voice, Hybern's actions. It wasn't Lucien who met her eyes.
Elain felt the snap. Lucien gave it a name.
This isn't a great first impression for the both of them so SJM made sure to include another one through Lucien's perspective specifically:
But sunlight on gold caught his eye—and Elain slowly turned from her vigil at the window. He had not seen her entire face since that day in Hybern. Then, it had been drawn and terrified, then utterly blank and numb, her hair plastered to her head, her lips blue with cold and shock. Looking at her now … She was pale, yes. The vacancy still glazing her features. But he couldn’t breathe as she faced him fully. She was the most beautiful female he’d ever seen. Betrayal, queasy and oily, slid through his veins. He’d said the same to Jesminda once. But even as shame washed through him, the words, the sense chanted, Mine. You are mine, and I am yours. Mate. Her eyes were the brown of a fawn’s coat. And he could have sworn something sparked in them as she met his gaze. “Who are you?” He knew without demanding clarification that she was aware of what he was to her.
In the 3300+ words of Az's bonus chapter, we only have his thoughts on Elain within the past couple of months. This is compared to a third of what we had for Lucien's POV. Lucien had a little over 1000 words compared to the 1500 words SJM dedicated to Azriel and Elain's encounter.
And again, those impressions are her triggering his feelings of worth. I've said this before that we had unlimited access to his thoughts, and what we got was lacking and void of any sort of romantic notion towards Elain.
It's not so much about how he feels about her now, but it's the lack of what he felt about her then. This is further underscored by Azriel ignoring Rhys's question about Mor. We had plenty of opportunities to rectify Elain and Azriel's awkward and tense first encounter, or any encounter that marked when he felt a shift from Mor to Elain.
However, when we get to Gwyn, SJM included his shadows' reactions and his recognizing how far she had come since their first encounter. It's even more surprising considering how many missions Azriel must have done; he specifically remembers hers, as his chapter pointed out. I also don't think it's a coincidence that we have the "admiration and quiet encouragement shining from his face" line when she finally cut the ribbon, especially considering Azriel stayed late to help her practice, grateful for the distraction of this impromptu lesson.
The young priestess smiled--and Azriel thought it might have been directed at his curious shadows. But she just hooked her coppery-brown hair behind an arched ear. "I was trying to cut the ribbon." She pointed with her sword at the white ribbon, which seemed to glow silver.
“Aren't you cold?" His breath clouded in front of him.
Gwyn shrugged. "Once you get moving, you stop noticing it."
He nodded, silence falling. For a heartbeat, their gazes met. He blocked out the bloody memory that fashed, so at odds with the Gwyn he saw before him now.
The nuances in Azriel and Cassian's bonus chapters set them apart, with the only common theme being about sex. Cassian's chapter offered much more insight into how he felt about Nesta, so I don't find the excuse of it being a bonus chapter sufficient to justify the lack of depth in Azriel's feelings toward Elain.
#elucien#pro elucien#elain x lucien#antie/riel#antielriel#gwynriel#pro gwynriel#azriel x gwyn#gwyn x azriel
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Unlikely Heroine
Synopsis: The mysterious Bada Lee lived in the peaceful building next door. Her beauty first drew you in despite being distant. When your ex-boyfriend stormed in one night, Bada saved the day, establishing a connection that grew stronger over common interests. You both revealed your feelings to one another on a rooftop under the night, beginning a remarkable relationship that led to the intriguing neighbour becoming a beloved friend and love interest.
Living in the peaceful flat next door was Bada Lee, a mysterious and graceful woman. She appeared uninterested in the world outside her door as she went about her regular tasks. But you couldn't help but be drawn to her; she was a picture of beauty and grace that had you captivated.
You had been living in the same building for months and often caught glimpses of Bada in the elevator or hallway. Her flowing dark and blonde highlighted hair, perfect sense of style, and the mysterious aura that enveloped her were all things you couldn't help but notice. She appeared distant and far away, like an unreachable star.
You eventually gave up trying to talk to her as time passed. She didn't seem to be much interested in her neighbours, so you decided to content yourself with observing her from a distance.
One awful night, when you were relaxing in your flat after an exhausting day, your door got an unexpected and unpleasant knock. When you unlocked it, your ex-boyfriend was there, angry and drunk. His motives were obvious. he wanted your return no matter whether you want him in back.
Your heart was bursting with fear as you struggled to fight him off, but he persisted without restraint. His loud voice caused a disturbance that echoed down the hallway and drew the attention of your neighbours.
When you believed there was nothing else to do, Bada Lee appeared at the door next to yours and swung it open. Her typically cool, collected demeanour had changed to one of furious determination. She gave your ex-boyfriend a burning gaze that caused him to shiver.
She spoke the words, "Enough," in a voice that would not allow for debate. "Get away immediately and leave."
She enters the room with authority, and your ex-boyfriend was startled by it. He stammered, "Who are you?"
Bada's reply was straightforward yet effective. "In this building, I won't put up with harassment. Now go."
He stumbled away while cursing under his breath because of her comments and attitude. Bada held her ground until he was gone from sight before turning to you and giving you a worried expression.
Her voice softened as she questioned, "Are you okay?"
Even though you were still in shock, you were able to nod. "Yes, I'm grateful. Without your help, I don't know what I would have done."
Bada gave a comforting grin. "Everyone gets a little assistance from their neighbours. I'm hoping he won't bother you ever again."
Your luck was beyond words. The modest neighbouring woman had not only seen you but had also helped you out when you were in trouble. It was a kind act that showed a lot about her character and made you once feel appreciative and intrigued.
You said, "Thank you, Bada," your voice full of genuine appreciation. "I don't think I've introduced myself properly. I'm [Your Name]."
Bada held out her hand as her cheeks were somewhat flushed. "I'm Bada Lee. It's nice to meet you, [Your Name]."
You couldn't help but feel as you shook her hand that this chance contact marked a new chapter in your life—one in which the mysterious woman next door was no longer just a gorgeous stranger but an unexpected heroine who had saved you at the crucial moment.
You became more and more drawn to Bada in the days that followed. Her brave and thoughtful deed stayed in your mind. You had been captivated by her strength and compassion as well as her lovely beauty because she had shown them to you when you were weak and in need.
One evening, as you and someone else were both in the lobby of the building checking your mailboxes, you gathered up the nerve to start a discussion. "Bada, I wanted to thank you again for helping me that night. It meant a lot to me."
The corners of Bada's eyes wrinkled as she grinned. "You're very welcome, [Your Name]. I couldn't stand by and let someone harass my neighbor."
You continued, encouraged by her warm response, "I've always noticed how quiet you are, but you truly shocked me. You're not just a lovely neighbor, you're also incredibly brave."
Bada's flush grew stronger and she took a minute to look down before catching your eye. "I appreciate you saying that. I guess I've been quite private for a while."
As your conversations grew in frequency, you realised that Bada was much more sophisticated than first appeared. She loved to dance and was a talented one at that and she had your enthusiasm for classic literature. It seems that she had a sophisticated and detailed world hidden underneath her guarded appearance.
You couldn't help but think that as your friendship grew, it may one day develop into something more. However, you were cautious since you weren't sure if Bada shared your views or if she was merely acting as a good neighbour and friend.
Bada turned to you one night as you were both relaxing on the building's rooftop and admiring the distant city lights. "[Your Name] knows that I cherish our friendship more than words can say. You've brought a lot of light into my life."
Your heart was thumping as you gazed into her eyes. "Bada, I feel the same way about you. I've loved having you as a friend, and I cherish our time together so much.
Bada rarely showed vulnerability, but her stare indicated more. "I have to admit something, [Your Name]. I came here with the hope of a new beginning free from the burdens of my old life. But since meeting you, you've encouraged me to look for more than just a new beginning. I now want to actually live because of you."
Your hope swelled making your heart skip a beat. "Bada, I feel the same way. I had no intention of meeting someone like you, who makes my heart beat faster every time we talked."
Bada reached out for your hand with a kind grin on her lips, sending a shiver through your veins as her touch. "I'm glad we found each other, [Your Name]. Maybe it was fate that brought us together that night."
You both realised that this chance encounter was unique as you sat next to one other on the rooftop under the starlit sky. It was a bond forged in the quiet moments, in acts of bravery, and in the shared dreams that filled the night.
And as your hands joined, you sensed the start of a new chapter, one in which the mysterious neighbour was no longer just a lovely stranger but a treasured friend who had saved you and won your heart in the process.
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A Soldier's past
Soldier boy x F/Reader
Warnings: none I guess
Side note: English isn’t my first language.
*Does not follow the boys timeline*
--
Y/N is a museum clerk at the old Vought Museum on the edge of town. The only and old exhibition about Soldier Boy standing will end in a few weeks, Vought found a new purpose for the museum. Meaning the exhibition will end and Y/N will need to search for a new job.
She takes one last tour around the museum before locking it down, seeing a man in the shadows.
--
Y/N sighed as she gazed around the dimly lit museum hall.
The old exhibition about soldier boy came to an end, marking the end of an era for the museum and for her. She had spent countless hours organizing artifacts, answering questions from curious visitors, and preserving the stories of brave men who had fought in the war.
She started as a college student but became more and more invested in Soldier Boys past. Getting to know the man behind the mask. When she eventually got her degree Vought offered her a fulltime managers function. Which she accepted with pride.
As the clock struck midnight, signalling the end of a long last day, Y/N decided to open the museum till now, hoping some last costumers would step in to say goodbye. But per usual, the rooms were empty part from one high school tour in the morning.
She had known this was to happen, fewer and fewer people came to see him, schools went to see the new museum where all of Vought's greatest heroes were presented.
With a heavy heart she takes one last tour of the exhibition before locking up for the night. The soft glow of the display lights cast yellow shadows on the walls, giving the room an otherworldly feel.
She loved to walk around after closing time. As she walked among the relics of battles gone by, Y/N couldn't shake the feeling of melancholy that hung heavy in the air. These artifacts told stories of courage and sacrifice, but they also held memories of loss and pain.
Lost in thought, Y/N almost didn't notice the figure lurking in the shadows near the back of the hall. It was a man, tall and imposing, his features obscured by darkness. Instinctively, Y/N's hand went to the panic button on her belt, but something stopped her.
"Hello? Sir... are you okay?" she called out, her voice echoing in the empty hall.
The figure stirred, stepping forward into the light.
He stood tall, his muscular frame evident even beneath the fabric of his green jacket. Broad shoulders tapered down to a trim waist, giving him an aura of strength and athleticism.
The dim light of the exhibition hall cast shadows across his rugged face, accentuating the sharp angles of his jawline. His eyes, green, once bright with determination, now held a world of pain and regret, their intensity piercing through the darkness.
Y/N's breath caught in her throat as she recognized him, how could she not... It was Soldier Boy, the legendary hero whose exploits were immortalized in the exhibition.
As their eyes met across the silent expanse of the exhibition hall.
"I'm fine," he muttered, his voice heavy with sorrow. "Just needed a place to... forget."
Y/N found herself drawn towards Soldier Boy, her footsteps echoing softly against the polished marble floors. With each step, the distance between them narrowed, until finally, they stood mere inches apart. "Forget what?"
"Forget everything," he replied turning back to his statue, his voice barely above a whisper. "The battles, the bloodshed, the lives lost... the pain I've had over the years.”
As his heavy words lingered in the stillness of the exhibition hall, a sudden interruption broke the fragile silence. The ringing of the phone echoed through the room, its shrill tones startling Y/N, her heart racing as she realized she had neglected her duties.
"I'm sorry," she said softly, her voice tinged with regret. "I need to answer that. I should make sure the doors are locked too. Soldier Boy nodded in understanding, a flicker of disappointment crossing his features. "Of course," he replied, his tone resigned.
Y/N offered him a reassuring smile saying he was welcome to stay as long as he needed, before hurrying towards the reception desk, her footsteps echoing against the polished marble floors again. With trembling hands, she picked up the receiver, her heart pounding in her chest.
"Hello?" she said, her voice barely above a whisper.
On the other end of the line, a familiar voice greeted her, its warmth a welcome balm to her nerves. It was her colleague, Sarah, calling to check in before the end of her last shift.
Y/N quickly assured her that everything was fine, offering a brief explanation for her delayed response. After confirming that the doors were securely locked and the museum was empty, she bid Sarah farewell.
As she hung up the phone, Y/N felt a sense of relief wash over her. With the doors secured and her duties fulfilled, she could finally devote her full attention to Soldier Boy, the mysterious stranger who had stumbled into her life on this fateful night
Y/N's heart skipped a beat with worry as she returned to the exhibition hall, only to find it empty. Panic in her mind, hoping he didn’t leave, as she scanned the dimly lit room, searching for any sign of him, her eyes darting from one shadowy corner to the next. And then, amidst the flickering glow of the display lights, she saw him.
Soldier Boy stood before a massive painting, his gaze fixed upon the canvas with a mixture of reverence and regret. The painting, his team, Payback, frozen in time like ghosts from another era.
Y/N approached cautiously, her heart heavy with concern for the troubled hero. She could sense the weight of his memories pressing down upon him, threatening to consume him in their relentless grip.
"Soldier Boy," she called out softly, her voice a gentle whisper in the stillness of the night. Y/N stepped closer, her hand reaching out instinctively to touch his arm. "Are you alright?" she asked, her voice filled with genuine concern.
“Hm” was all he reacted, she saw his emotions in his eyes. Piercing at the painting. "What happened in 1983?" She asked him.
Soldier Boy's gaze flickered with a mixture of emotions as he turned to face her. There was a haunted look in his eyes, a sadness that seemed to stretch on for eternity. Anger blazing through those beautiful green eyes.
“These fuckers betrayed me. Vought betrayed me. Made me a fucking lap rat for the Russians. After all I did for those fuckers.” He turned back at the painting. She could see the pain etched into every line of his face, the weight of his regrets pressing down upon him like a heavy burden.
"Is that why you're here?" she asked gently, her voice filled with compassion. "To confront the ghosts of your past?" Soldier Boy nodded solemnly, his gaze still on the painting of his team. "I thought coming here would help me find closure," he admitted.
Y/N reached out a comforting hand, her fingers brushing against his arm. "Sometimes, confronting our past is the only way to find peace," she offered softly.
“What are you doing here?” He asks stern. Y/N took a moment to gather her thoughts before responding, her gaze meeting Soldier Boy's. She gestured towards the surrounding exhibition hall, the artifacts and relics of wars long past serving as a testament to her words.
"This museum holds a special place in my heart," she continued, her tone turning more serious. "It's a sanctuary of sorts, a place where the echoes of history can still be heard if you listen closely enough."
He rolls his eyes. “This are pieces of shit and dirt. Half of it isn’t even real.” His words made her feel a sting in her chest, a sense of pride swelling within her. "I like to think it is of import," she replied, her smile widening.
"Every artifact, every story... they all have a part to play in shaping our understanding of the world and our place in it." “Is that why they are shutting it down.” It wasn’t even a question.
"Let me give you a grand tour," Y/N offered with a warm smile, gesturing toward the museum's exhibits. Soldier Boy chuckled softly, his eyes twinkling with a hint of mischief. "I know my history, doll," he replied, a touch of playful arrogance in his tone.
Y/N arched an eyebrow, her lips curving into a teasing grin. "Fine then, let me tell you what I see when I tell your story," she countered, her voice tinged with a challenge.
And so, they went on a journey through time, with Y/N serving as the guide and Soldier Boy as the reluctant but intrigued traveller. With each artifact they encountered and every story they uncovered, Y/N wove a tapestry of Soldier Boy's past, painting a vivid portrait of his journey through the ages.
She spoke of his triumphs and his failures, his moments of heroism and his moments of weakness. She delved into the depths of his soul, exploring the complexities of his character and the struggles he faced along the way.
As they walked, Soldier Boy listened intently, his gaze fixed upon Y/N with a newfound sense of appreciation. He found himself increasingly captivated by Y/N's passion for this place.
He saw himself reflected in her words, not just as a larger-than-life hero, but as a flawed and vulnerable human being searching for meaning in a world fraught with uncertainty.
Her enthusiasm was infectious, igniting a spark within him that he hadn't felt in years. He watched in awe as she spoke, her eyes alight with excitement. It was as if she breathed life into the artifacts.
In that moment, amidst the hallowed halls of history, Soldier Boy found himself drawn to Y/N in a way he hadn't expected. Her passion, her knowledge, her unwavering dedication, it all spoke to something deep within him, stirring feelings he hadn't dared to acknowledge.
She knew him without knowing him. The real him, and yet isn’t scared.
And as the tour drew to a close, Y/N turned to Soldier Boy with a smile, her eyes alight with excitement. "So, what do you think?" she asked, a note of anticipation in her voice.
Soldier Boy chuckled softly, attempting to lighten the mood with a playful remark. "Well, I must admit, you certainly know your stuff," he teased, a mischievous twinkle in his eye. "You are either a nerd or some sort of paid stalker, creepy.”
His attempt at humour masked a deeper truth, he was afraid to let Y/N see just how much he had enjoyed listening to her. The vulnerability of opening up to someone, his emotions behind a facade of strength and stoicism.
But as he watched Y/N's smile falter ever so slightly, a pang of regret pierced through his jest. He realized that his attempt at humour had fallen flat, and he cursed himself for his lack of tact.
“I’m sorry. I asked too much of your time. I’ll leave you to it.” She said before making her way back to the front desk. He watched walking away.
Soldier Boy's footsteps echoed softly in the museum as he made his way to the front desk where Y/N stood, her gaze still fixed on the ground with a hint of disappointment.
Clearing his throat, Soldier Boy took a deep breath to steady his nerves before speaking. "I'm sorry," he began, his voice gentle yet filled with sincerity. "I didn't mean to make you feel bad.”
Y/N looked up, her eyes meeting his with a mixture of surprise and curiosity. "You don't need to apologize," she replied softly. "I understand."
“I realize I never asked for your name." He said still trying to meet her eye.
Y/N's lips curved into a small smile, touched by his gesture. "It's Y/N," she answered, her voice warm. "Y/N," Soldier Boy repeated, the name rolling off his tongue like a whispered promise. "Thank you, Y/N, for everything. "
He hung over the desk. “I’m Ben.” “I know” she said, now looking in his green eyes.
With one last smile, Soldier Boy turned to leave but decided not to. Turning back towards Y/N, who still stood behind the front desk, he found himself unable to walk away just yet. The thought of leaving without knowing when he might see her again felt like a missed opportunity he couldn't bear.
"What are you doing tomorrow night?" he found himself asking, the words tumbling out before he could fully process them. Y/N's eyes widened in surprise, a hint of curiosity flickering in her gaze. "Um, nothing in particular," she replied, a touch of uncertainty “It’s my last night here.”
"Would you...” A nervous energy coursed through Soldier Boy's veins as he searched for the right words to say. “Like to grab dinner with me?
Her eyes grew wide “Me?” He nodded slow. “You don’t have to... I mean you don’t own me or need to make up or something.” Mischief dancing in his eyes as he looked at her with a playful grin. His gaze lingered on her, taking in every detail from the way her hair fell to her soft plump lips.
"I love your stories, doll," he said, his voice filled with genuine admiration. “I want to hear more.” Y/N couldn't help but blush at the compliment, feeling a warmth spread through her cheeks.
“So, dinner it is?” He asks.
“I’d love to.”
--
What do you think... Do we need to continue this story? Or is the idea of having a date with Soldier boy enough?
#fanfic#fluff#the boys#x reader#soldier boy#the boys amazon#jensen fucking ackles#angst#the boys hughie#pinning#jensenedit#jensen ackles#the boys fanart#fanfiction#f reader#supernatural
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People of the Galactic Horde (the OGs)
Since I'm working on a Horde Prime origin story, it was inevitable that one day I would have to come up with designs for his species aka the original spacebats. And well, it was a fun challenge!
(click/tap to have a better look!)
My first attempt at drawing other bats was with the High Priests of the Four Temples - the most influential and powerful people on the planet, also known as Anillis'/Prime's teachers :)
See that last guy? That's the emperor of the original Galactic Horde! Though after his unexpected early death his wife had to become the new Prime. Gladly, Horde World was not left without a future heir to the throne^^
Fun thing is, I never planned on making designs for Anillis' parents, since they never appear in the actual story + even the twins don't remember what they looked like. But idc making fanparents is fun! (In my vision Horde Prime inherited the death stare from his mother and the sly misleading smile from his father >:} )
(I talk more about the characters and worldbuliding in my fic "Violent Youth". U can find the link in my pinned post)
I also had to design tons, and I mean tons of episodic characters of all ages, genders and backgrounds. Now after all this training I'm ready to fill the backgrounds with bats :3
Some general notes on the people of the Horde under the cut
Every spacebat is born with a white face. Any deviations were rare and considered a type of skin condition
Facial markings slowly appear once baby bats hit puberty. When spacebats' white faces were seen as blank canvases, the facial markings were their life journey drawn on said canvases. The markings were seen as the real window to the soul. Having no marks as an adult was simply outlandish, people of Krytis even had a belief that such bats "had nothing behind their soul" and thus could not be trustworthy
Facial markings (as well as ears) came in many forms. In ancient times one could tell in which of the four original provinces a person was born by simply looking at their faces. Nowadays it became nearly impossible to guess someone's homeland this way (mostly everyone are people of mixed descent), but to those curious this is how bats used to distinguish one another by their markings:
North - straight lines across/all over the face (e.g. the emperor)
South - wavy lines across/all over the face e.g. (the High Priestess of the Southern temple)
West - straight minimalistic lines (e.g. horde clones)
East - wavy minimalistic lines (e.g. the empress)
Hair never held much cultural significance on Krytis, so the styling was only a question of one's personal preference and fashion trends. Some bats (mainly from the south) saw no point in having hair whatsoever - those would choose to go bald or shave parts of the head to better show off their markings
Everyone had one set of eyes. Only local deities were sometimes depicted having 3 and more eyes. And yes, their eyes and teeth do glow in the dark
I wanted to make colorful bats to futher emphasise their whimsical and peaceful nature :) Well, if u think about it many poisonous creatures are colorful too...
I wouldn't be myself if I didn't say anything about local fashion. I don't have my own concepts at hand sadly, just references, but my main inspiration for the fashion of Krytis are late 90s-early 00s futurism and cyber aesthetic. Here and there u will also see smth similar to mall goth or streetwear style, but it's mostly something what young blood were into
Some bats like the royal family and council members would wear more classy and regal clothes but still more or less modern looking. Such choice of attire was espeically important to the empress, who, unlike her late husband, stayed far away from religion and magic and made it the main goal of her campaign to weaken the influence of the religious community and push for scientific and socio-cultural progress
If you have any questions about the people of the Horde/Krytis, feel free to ask! I'm always happy to talk more about this AU!
#spop#horde prime#spacebats#kur twins tag#horde clones#the galactic horde#shera#spop au#spop oc#my art#cirus doodles things#sketch#sketch dump#character design#long post#haven't posted anything for this au in a while so why not share some concepts?
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"Fragments of Love: A Journey Beyond Heartbreak" Hyunjin x y/n (female reader)
Title: "Fragments of Love: A Journey Beyond Heartbreak"
Genre: Romance, Drama, angst, breakup
Synopsis: "Shattered Hearts" delves into the past of Y/N and Hyunjin's once-cherished relationship, tracing its beginnings from the sparks of college romance to the depths of heartbreak. As their bond strengthens, unforeseen challenges test their love, leading to a devastating breakup when distance strains their connection.
In the present day, Y/N grapples with the aftermath of Hyunjin's betrayal, struggling to mend her shattered heart. However, fate intervenes when she crosses paths with a mysterious stranger who offers her a chance at redemption and newfound love. Follow Y/N on her journey of healing and self-discovery as she navigates the tangled web of emotions and embarks on a new chapter filled with hope and unexpected romance. ( i have still not decided who will be the guy y/n meets in future in japan, where she goes for her postgraduation)
note: The first few chapters will be y/n and hyunjins past and how he broke her heart.
Introduction:
Hyunjin and Y/N shared a bond that weathered 1.5 years of highs and lows, weaving a tapestry of love and trust that seemed unbreakable. But fate, in its capricious dance, offered Y/N an opportunity she couldn't refuse—a postgrad program in Japan. Little did she know, this decision would shatter her world.
In the blink of an eye, Hyunjin walked away, seamlessly transitioning into the arms of another. For Y/N, it felt as though time stood still, as if the universe itself had conspired against her. Hyunjin wasn't just a lover; she was Y/N's sanctuary, the one person in a tumultuous world whom Y/N trusted implicitly.
Coming from a broken family and enduring the callousness of so-called friends, Y/N had resigned herself to a belief: that she was undeserving of love. That is, until Hyunjin entered her life. With tender care, Hyunjin shattered those self-imposed barriers, making Y/N feel cherished and adored—the only girl in the world, or so Y/N believed.
The story unfolds through a series of poignant flashbacks, each moment a testament to the depth of their connection and the pain of their separation. But amid the fragments of their shattered love, there lies the promise of a new beginning.
As Y/N navigates the labyrinth of heartbreak, she discovers solace in unexpected places, forging new friendships that offer glimmers of hope. And perhaps, just perhaps, amidst the healing and growth, Y/N may find herself drawn to someone new—a beacon of light in the darkness of her despair.
note: i am still confused wheather the new guy reader meet should be someone new in japan (lee know) or one of y/n and hyunjins old common friends
HUYNJIN AND Y/N: ( A LITTLE BACK STORY OF THEIR PAST)
Y/N and Hyunjin's story begins like many others—two young souls, each navigating the tumultuous waters of college life. But theirs was a tale marked by twists of fate and unexpected connections.
At the tender age of 18, Y/N found herself captivated by Hyunjin's enigmatic presence. It was love at first sight for her, though Hyunjin remained oblivious to her feelings, his focus consumed by other pursuits.
Their paths converged during the first month of college, amidst the frenzy of inter-college competitions. Hyunjin, initially indifferent to Y/N, found himself drawn to her undeniable talent and determination on the field. She wasn't just good at sports; she was a force to be reckoned with—a true ace in every sense.
Y/N's prowess on the field not only earned her Hyunjin's admiration but also paved the way for their victory in the inter-college trophy. In the glow of triumph, bonds were forged, and a new circle of friends emerged—Felix, Bang Chan, and Changbin—all drawn together by the shared thrill of victory.
But fate had more in store for them that night. As they celebrated their triumph at a small party, Hyunjin's world collided with that of his childhood friend, Han Jisung. The chance encounter sparked a rekindling of their friendship, and Han soon became an integral part of their group.
For Y/N and Han, their shared love for anime became the foundation of a deep bond. With Han's playful antics and Y/N's infectious laughter, they found solace and companionship in each other's company. It was during one of their heart-to-heart conversations that Y/N confessed her feelings for Hyunjin—a confession that would set the wheels of destiny in motion.
Determined to help Y/N win Hyunjin's heart, Han took on the role of her wingman, orchestrating opportunities for them to spend time together. As they grew closer, Y/N and Han found themselves navigating the complexities of friendship and unrequited love, bound together by a shared goal and unwavering loyalty.
But beneath the surface, tensions simmered between Hyunjin and Han, rooted in their contrasting personalities and unresolved childhood conflicts. Han's outgoing nature clashed with Hyunjin's reserved demeanor, igniting old insecurities and fears of being left behind.
In a desperate bid to break free from his past, Hyunjin took a leap of faith, asking Y/N out on a date.
Hyunjin knew he didn't have feelings for Y/N, but he couldn't bear the thought of losing to Han again. So, he took a chance and asked her out, hoping she'd stick around. Turns out, it was one of his best decisions ever because Y/N made his life a breeze. She was his rock, doing everything for him, and Hyunjin felt blessed to have someone who cared so much.
After eight months, Hyunjin found himself falling for Y/N. It hit him like a ton of bricks. Meanwhile, during the semester break, Y/N jetted off to India with Changbin to study fashion and music. Hyunjin, not the best dancer, decided to stay back in Korea to brush up on his skills at an academy, where he unexpectedly hit it off with Yej.
Yej and Hyunjin were like two peas in a pod during the break, despite never interacting in college before. Meanwhile, Y/N and Changbin formed a tight sibling-like bond, sharing secrets about Y/N's strained family life. She confided in Changbin about her parents' fake relationship and their tendency to take out their frustrations on her.
When Y/N returned and surprised Hyunjin, Yej was taken aback. yej joined thier gang She felt that Y/N didnt fit in with the group and started bullying her, fueled by frustration when Hyunjin prioritized Y/N over her. Things escalated when Y/N's mother fell ill, and she had to take time off from college. During her absence, Hyunjin was the life of the party, pulling pranks and cracking jokes. But when Y/N returned, he grew quiet, leaving her confused.
Bang Chan, always ready with a joke, teased Y/N about how much happier Hyunjin seemed without her around. At first, Y/N brushed it off, but soon, it started to bother her. Later that day, she confronted Hyunjin about it.
Y/N approached Hyunjin after class, her heart heavy with the weight of their recent tension.
"Hey, Hyunjin," she greeted softly.
Hyunjin turned to her, his expression guarded. "Hey, Y/N. What's up?"
"I've been feeling like something's off between us lately," Y/N confessed, her voice tinged with worry.
Hyunjin let out a frustrated sigh, running a hand through his hair. "Yeah, things have been... difficult."
"What do you mean?" Y/N probed, her anxiety growing.
"It's just... I feel like I'm walking on eggshells around you," Hyunjin admitted, his tone strained. "I have to constantly worry about your feelings, and it's exhausting."
Y/N's heart sank at his words. "I'm sorry if I've been too sensitive."
Hyunjin's frustration flared. "But it's not just that. You get so insecure whenever Yej and I hang out. It's like you don't trust me."
Y/N felt a surge of defensiveness rise within her. "It's not about trust, Hyunjin. It's about how Yej makes me feel like an outsider, even though I was friends with everyone before she even joined the group."
Hyunjin's jaw tightened. "Maybe if you didn't take everything so seriously, you wouldn't feel that way."
Y/N's eyes brimmed with tears. "I hate feeling like I'm not enough for you, Hyunjin. And I hate Yej for making me feel that way."
Hyunjin's frustration boiled over. "Well, maybe if you don't learn to take a joke and lighten up, you'll end up friendless."
With those cutting words, Hyunjin turned and walked away, leaving Y/N feeling more alone and confused than ever. She couldn't shake the sinking feeling that their relationship was crumbling before her eyes, and she wasn't sure if there was anything she could do to save it.
Y/N's frustration reached its peak as she confronted Hyunjin about his behavior.
"Why are you following all these random girls on Instagram, Hyunjin?" Y/N asked, her voice tinged with irritation.
Hyunjin's expression hardened as he retorted, "I just want to be more popular, you know? So people can recognize my talent."
Y/N's eyebrows furrowed in disbelief. "But you don't follow any of your junior guy friends. Why only girls?"
Hyunjin's frustration boiled over. "Because nobody follows their junior guy friends! It's just how it is."
Y/N felt a surge of annoyance at his illogical reasoning. "That doesn't make any sense, Hyunjin. You're being ridiculous."
Hyunjin's eyes widened in alarm at Y/N's tone. "Wait, what are you saying?"
"I can't do this anymore," Y/N declared firmly. "I'm tired of this toxic behavior. I want us to break up."
The word "breakup" struck fear into Hyunjin's heart. He knew he depended on Y/N for support and help with his school work and other tasks.
"Wait, Y/N, please," Hyunjin pleaded, desperation creeping into his voice. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you. I'll stop following those girls. Just please, don't leave me."
Y/N sighed, feeling torn between her frustration and her lingering feelings for Hyunjin. "I don't know, Hyunjin. This isn't okay."
"I know, and I'm sorry," Hyunjin apologized, his voice softening. "Please, give me another chance. I'll do better, I promise."
Y/N hesitated, unsure if she could trust Hyunjin again. But seeing the genuine remorse in his eyes, she relented, though not without a sense of reservation.
"Fine," Y/N said, her tone resigned. "But this is your last chance, Hyunjin. Don't mess it up."
Relief flooded Hyunjin's features as he pulled Y/N into a hug, silently vowing to make things right.
As time passed, Y/N made efforts to bridge the gap with Yej, and surprisingly, they grew closer. However, behind the scenes, Yej began manipulating the situation to her advantage. She saw an opportunity to get closer to Hyunjin by undermining Y/N's relationship with him. Yej started planting seeds of doubt in Y/N's mind, portraying Hyunjin as someone who didn't treat her right and encouraging her to stand up for herself. However, her ulterior motives became evident when she started sharing private conversations and comments from Hyunjin with Y/N, causing her discomfort. Yej even went as far as showing Y/N an Instagram post where Hyunjin had commented "hot" on another girl's photo, all the while feigning sympathy. Behind Y/N's back, Yej spread lies about her, portraying her as a copycat who imitated Yej's style and fashion choices. The campus began to mock Y/N, unaware that it was actually Y/N who influenced Yej's fashion decisions due to y/n family's middle-class background she was not able to afford clothes and other things but yej was rich so used to buy anything that was on y/ns pinterest or wishlist. Despite the mounting pressure, Y/N and Hyunjin's bond grew stronger as they confided in each other, but their romantic relationship began to falter. When Y/N confronted Hyunjin about the hurtful comment, they resolved their issues, but Hyunjin's hidden desire to break up with Y/N started to surface. On the last day of their second year, with internships looming on the horizon, everyone decided to throw an epic game night and Everything fell apart on that game night, starting with Changbin and Y/N's fight. It all began innocently enough; Changbin had brought Maggi from an Indian store, a snack he and Y/N always shared back in India. Even after returning to Korea, it became their little tradition. So, Changbin thought it'd be a sweet gesture to bring Maggi packets for everyone.
Bang Chan, Felix, Changbin, and Y/N were eagerly waiting for Yeji and Hyunjin to arrive from their dance practice. But hunger struck Y/N before they showed up. Eyeing the two containers of Maggi—one big and one small—Y/N grabbed the smaller one, intending just a few bites before Yeji and Hyunjin arrived.
But as Y/N was about to dig in, Changbin swooped in, snatching the container from her grasp. Cue the heated conversation:
"Why'd you take the small one? That's for Yeji!" Changbin yelled, catching Y/N off guard. She felt a sting of hurt; he could've just said it without the yelling and snatching. But she brushed it off, trying not to let it spoil the night.
When Yeji and Hyunjin finally joined, the group decided to play truth or dare. And that's when things got even more interesting.
please let me know if you liked the story this is just the past of how hyunjin and y/n got together. The story will start after the past gets over, it think one more chapter will be enough for past and i will also start how hyunjin broke y/n heart when they got in a long distance realtionship. please feel free to give me reviews<3 also i think after i explain the past and pressent i might switch the from writting to texts. <3
i really want y/n to go with lee minho but idk han and her might make the story more interesting considering the fact that hyunjin hated y/n and hans friendship, (anyones wants me to tag them?)
#stray kids x reader#lee know smut#hyunjin angst#hyunjin fanfic#hyunjin x reader#hyunjin smau#hyunjin imagines#skz x reader#skz imagines#skz smau#stray kids imagines#stray kids smau#stray kids#skz#lee know#lee minho#lee know x reader#reader x lee know#minho#minho x reader#reader x minho#han jisung x reader#changbin x reader#stray kidsx y/n#stray kids x you
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Bridge Four: What Punctuation Mark They’d Be
Previously we considered what parts of speech the Kholin household would like best...for some reason. Next up: Bridge Four as Punctuation Marks!
1. Kaladin: Exclamation Point
We all know that Kaladin is a dramatic boy. When he arrives, he is an exclamation point embodied, usually glowing with Stormlight and there to save the day.
2. Sigzil: Colon
A colon indicates that further information will follow: perhaps a list, or a several-sentence description, or a series of questions. And as a Worldsinger, Sigzil is there to spread information and knowledge. Plus, when he found out about Kaladin’s powers, his first thought was to design experiments to get some good old data points. I can just imagine him writing, “Kaladin’s abilities are as follows:”
3. Rlain: Semicolon
Semicolons connect two independent clauses, much as Rlain, the Bridger of Minds, is able to connect disparate peoples and ideas. The semicolon is solid and steadfast, but does not end the thought like a period does. It brings different thoughts together.
4. Rock: Question Mark
I just remember the scene where we find out that Bridge Four goes to see Rock for advice, and he asks them questions to help them realize what they need/want to do. Rock is the type of person who can help people feel welcome, draw them in, help them open up. So I think a question mark suits him well!
5. Moash: Slash
The slash can indicate separation and difference, but it can also show options and alternatives: and/or, his/her, color/colour. And yes, Moash has some black and white thinking (or should I say “black/white”)--light-eyes vs. dark-eyes, guilty vs. innocent, and so on. But he also represents alternatives: What if justice does mean killing a king who is liable in your grandparents’ death? What if the Singers should be the rulers? What if Kaladin is wrong? So for many reasons, I think the slash suits him.
He also, like, keeps slashing people to death, but maybe that’s a cheap joke.
6. Renarin: En-Dash
The en-dash is a poorly understood and little utilized punctuation mark: it is used specifically in ranges of numbers (like 14–30). And Renarin too had a specific and little-understood power--seeing the future--whose usefulness was not accepted at first. And when I use the en-dash, I have to manually download it because I don’t actually know the keystroke for it, and people tend to need some time to get used to Renarin too, as when he had to work hard to join Bridge Four.
Look, I swear this makes perfect sense in my head!
7. Teft: Hyphen
The hyphen is a support punctuation mark; it doesn’t get used alone, but rather connects together a compound noun or adjective. And Teft, as the sergeant and also as Kaladin’s friend, has always been there in support. He backs Kaladin up, even going so far as to stay behind when Kaladin was somewhat forcibly retired from the army.
The hyphen can also indicate speech or thoughts being abruptly cut off, but perhaps we won’t talk about that.
8. Skar: Apostrophe
An apostrophe shows ownership and belonging: my mother’s necklace, the captain’s spear. And Skar really is all about his love for being Bridge Four. He was the first to rip off the Cobalt Guard Patch in favor of a Bridge Four patch. He was completely crushed when he couldn’t draw in Stormlight at first, because he was afraid of not being useful to Bridge Four. He still helped others learn to drawn in the Stormlight, though. This love for the group and sense of belonging means the apostrophe suits him well, I think.
9. Dabbid: Ellipses
Dabbid didn’t speak for a while, at first because of battle shock, and later because he didn’t want the others to know that he thought differently from most people. Now he does speak some, but carefully. And the ellipses can indicate not only silence, but also a pause before continuing.
10. Drehy: Period
Drehy is extremely dependable--he’s one of the first to back up Kaladin, one of the first to pick up fighting, one of the first to learn first aid. He goes with Skar on the mission to Kholinar, and helps rescue Elhokar’s son after we all (or at least me) thought that Sanderson had dared to kill off the one gay character.
And yes, I wanted to pick the gayest punctuation mark for Drehy, but that’s gotta be either the question mark or the ellipses (right?), and I had already used those.
11. Hobber: Comma
The comma lets you know that this isn’t the end; there is more (of the sentence) coming. And Hobber is a figure of hope: he’s so delighted that Kaladin rescues him, that he’s already smiling even though at that point it was likely that he would die. He loses his legs to a shardblade, but later is able to draw in Stormlight to heal himself. So I think “hope” is the emotion I’d associate with Hobber, and I’ve decided that the comma--the “there’s more; don’t worry”--is the punctuation mark for him.
12. Leyten: Brackets
Literally all I know about Leyten is that he is the armorer. And brackets are like strong, uh, breastplates that, uh, protect the words within?
I’m so sorry, Leyten. I got nothing.
13. Lyn: Em-Dash
The em-dash is very versatile; it can be used in place of a comma or a semicolon or parentheses. And Lyn is a versatile woman: scout, messenger, soldier, Windrunner. Plus, everyone likes her, in book, and I’m pretty sure the em-dash is everyone’s favorite punctuation mark.
14. Lopen: Interrobang
The interrobang is the combination of the question mark and the exclamation mark: ?!. You might say, “That’s not a proper punctuation mark!” but then, that’s the point! It’s Lopen. He likes to be improper, to joke around and try to shock people.
Plus, I think he’d find the word “interrobang” to be funny.
#cosmerelists#cosmere#stormlight archive#Bridge Four#Kaladin#classic rock#Moash#Teft#Skar#Sigzil#Dabbid#Drehy#Hobber#Letyen#Lopen#Renarin#Rlain#Lyn
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Of Knights and Demons
Chapter 4
TW: Rape/Non-con, Dark themes, forced marriages, violence and swearing. MINORS DNI OR I WILL BLOCK YOU
This is my first ever fic so please be nice to me, I’ve also got it posted on A03 under the same name in case anybody would like to read it there.
You are the sole daughter of Byakuya Kuchiki, the sole heir to a noble family. Your father has broken from tradition with his refusal to marry you off against your wishes, instead wishing for you to find a husband of your own choosing. After years of arguing with not only your own family, but the other lords of your court all seems well. That is until a once thought dead knight returns with an army to take your home.
Souske Aizen, a man you once found kindness in has demanded that the two of you are to be wed, with your father still missing along with most of the guards you’re left with few options but to comply and hope that aid comes before anything can be set. How will you stop a man like Aizen from destroying your home and the people you care about? And who are these strange people with bone masks on their face?
Previous chapter
Sleep finds you much easier than you expected and you sleep soundly through the remainder of the night. You wake in the early morning and find that you're alone. Good, you prefer it that way, you don’t think that you could bear to see Aizen right now. You feel disgusting. Your skin is covered in dry sweat, your thighs and core are sticky with the evidence of your consummation, and your eyes are puffy from crying. Your whole body is sore and in pain you realize as you make your way to the bathroom to bathe.
You take note of a beautiful red dress placed carefully over the dresser, but the dress itself is not what catches your eye. No, what catches your eyes is the finely crafted crown that sits atop it. It’s made from beautiful thin crafted metal, adored with vines and flowers just as your wedding dress had been. It looked light and elegant. You walked past it, refusing to even touch it, you refused to wear it today, maybe ever. Definitely never you decide. You would do everything you could to let it be known that you didn’t want any of this. You would not play his happy wife, you’d do what he’d make you to keep the people you cared for safe but you would make sure he knew the depth of your hatred.
Once you entered the bathroom you looked at your reflection, which was a mistake. Your hair was a mess and your eyes were red and swollen. But that’s not what upset you. You choked on a cry as you looked over your body. Your neck was covered in brown and purple bruises, where you neck and shoulder meet there was a large mark from where he’d bitten you and drawn blood. Your hips held more bruises that were clearly from his fingers. It’d take days for all the bruising to subside and you couldn’t stop fresh tears from falling down your face. You turned away from the mirror, unable to look at yourself any longer. You began filling the tub with hot water.
Once the tub was filled you got in immediately even as the hot water burned your skin. You spent at least an hour scrubbing every part of your body raw. When the water went cold you drained it and replaced it with more scalding water and continued. No matter how much soap you used or how much you scrubbed your skin you simply didn’t feel clean enough. After giving up on your skin you began washing your hair and brushing out the knots. You didn’t want to look back in the mirror so you put it up in a sloppy braid while still in the tub. You got out of the tub and pulled on the nightgown from a few days ago, you weren’t going to leave the room but you didn’t want to sit around naked either.
You entered back into the bedroom and thought about what you’d do. You’d not been to keen on the idea of being shown around the manor before but you definitely didn’t want to now, you could already hear the lewd comments Grimmjow would make if he saw you. You thought about sitting by the widow again but you didn’t want to have to look at your reflection. Instead you just went back to bed, you pulled the blankets around yourself making a makeshift cocoon. It took you a good while to fall back asleep, mind to busy worrying about when Aizen would be back and what he’d make you do when he did show back up, but eventually sleep did find you.
You woke hours later to the sound of someone banging on your door. You shot up but didn’t move further than that. You waited quietly, after a few minutes the banging sounded again. “Hey!” You heard Grimmjow shout from the other side. He’d never knock like that unless he was telling you that Aizen wanted to see you and you had already decided hours ago that you would not be doing that. “Look, if you don’t want to come out I-'' he said clearly out of his element and struggling for what to say, “I get it…” To say you were confused would be an understantment, but he continued, “But you have to fucking eat, I’ll get someone to bring something up just tell me what you want.” You didn’t move, you didn’t want to see him or anyone for that matter. After another couple minutes of silence you heard him pound his fist into the door “Stubborn bitch.” He mumbled to himself.
Your eyes narrowed even when it seemed like he was being nice to you he had such a backwards way of doing so that you couldn’t tell what was going on. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes as you heard him start to pace again and mumble under his breath. You laid back down to sleep, listening to Grimmjow’s footsteps. Strangely it calmed you, lulling you back to sleep quickly and without any of the nauseating thoughts from earlier.
The next time you woke up the sun had already set. The sound of the door closing echoed through the room. You sat up only to see Aizen had returned. Instantly you felt sick as his eyes fell to you, he looked you up and down before cocking his head, “While you look lovely I much prefer how I’d left you this morning.” He tells you casually. You keep your mouth shut, staring daggers at him as he strips from his shirt. “I missed you at supper, not feeling well?” He taunts you with a smirk before stalking closer to your shared bed.
You try to crawl away from him but he catches your ankle and pulls you back, flipping you so you're facing him once again. “Please don’t,” you beg willing to try anything to keep his hands off you. “Everything still hurts from yesterday ple-” he cuts you off with a dominating kiss. Your heart sinks and you know what's coming.
He pulls away from you just enough to shush you as his hand moves to tangle in your hair, pulling harshly so that you're looking up at him. “I’ll have you every night until my heir grows inside you, even then I doubt I'll be able to stop. Not when you cry so sweetly for me.” He says, hand still gripping your hair. You feel tears start to form in your eyes again, you know there’s nothing you can say or do that would make him stop. You don’t want to have his children but how could you possibly fight him? Even if you could somehow stop him he’d just have Renji killed and you don’t think you could handle that guilt.
True to his word he’d had you again. Similarly to the previous night he took his time preparing you, forcing you to orgasam twice before he even considered putting his cock in you. You hated it, how he could turn your body against you with such ease. You also came to realize, as he slammed into you just as rough as before, that he liked when you cried. He wanted you to beg him to stop and tell him that you couldn’t take it, he reveled in it. You want to stop crying, hold out and take some of that enjoyment away from him but every time you try to he just gets rougher. He forces you to look at him with a strong grip in your hair as he slams his hips into yours and releases inside you again.
Only this time he doesn’t pull out of you, instead his hand slips between your legs to start rubbing small tight circles on your clit. Your hand shots out before you can stop it to try and grab his wrist to make it stop, you're already overstimulated and you're not fully thinking. Before you can even grab at him the hand fisted in your hair pulls so hard you're afraid he’ll pull a chunk of it out. You cry out and your hands whip to try and pry his hand out of your hair all the while keeping up with his stimulation of your body.
Heavy tears roll down your face, “Please no more.” You whimper out in a way that sounds pathetic to even you.
He doesn't stop, not that you really expected him to. “Gods you’re so pretty when you beg.” He mumbles before leaning over you and kissing you. Between the fullness in your core and his thumb stimulating your clit the knot in your abdomen was building much faster than it had previously. You can’t stop the cries and whines which Aizen seems all too happy to swallow though the rough kiss. It took a minute more before that knot had snapped your back arched as you cried out before sinking back into the bed feeling completely ruined. He pulled away with one quick peck on the cheek before pulling out of you.
He pulled you up to him and laid the two of you down the same as the previous night. One of his hands runs soothingly up and down your back. You want to move away from him or tell him to stop but you don’t have the energy nor do you want to risk upsetting him. You fall asleep quickly and when you wake he’s gone yet again.
~~~
The days that followed happened in the same fashion, you wake up alone and spend the morning hours trying to clean away filth that you knew you’d never be able to, go back to sleep, wake up to Grimmjow trying to get you to come out or to eat something, go back to sleep followed by Aizen having you how ever he sees fit for that night. Even though you’d been sleeping all day you felt exhausted all the time and even though you know you should be eating you couldn’t.
The very thought of food made you sick, not that you would venture out to find it even if it didn’t. Somewhere in the back of your head you screamed at yourself that something was deeply wrong with you but you couldn’t make yourself care enough. Maybe you were going insane, you thought to yourself bitterly.
On the seventh day since your wedding you were making your way back to the bed after bathing when your door slammed open, hitting the wall and reverberating off the hinges. You whirl around expecting to see Aizen but instead Grimmjow stands in your doorway looking positively pissed. You gape at him for a moment not knowing what to say or do. His eyes fall to your neck and in turn his jaw clenched in anger. You quickly realize he’s looking at the marks on your neck and flush in embarrassment. “Get out.” You tell him, pointing towards the door.
His eyes flick back up to meet yours, “You look like shit.” He comments bluntly. You can feel yourself getting angry, you knew you weren’t a pretty sight at the moment but you also didn’t need him to barge in and tell you about it.
You breathe an angry huff out, “Great observation now leave.” You bite back, you don’t know what he wants and you don’t care, he has no right to barge into your room and make fun of you.
He just keeps staring at you until the rattling of metal on metal sounds from the hallway, “Hurry up!” He barks, turning his head to throw over his shoulder. You hear a woman sigh.
Your eyes widen instantly recognizing the sound before she even speaks, “Now don’t rush me boy! I’m old, this is as fast as I go!” The women grumbled back. Her name was Lista, she had been one of the servants at your home, she was a kind woman in her mid fifties with long coiled brown hair that had begun to gray around the roots. She had worked in your family’s garden and since you were a young child you’d often found yourself in her company. She would teach you how much water each plant needed, how to weed the flower beds, and she’d answer every little question your child brain could come up with. She was foreign born and sometimes would tell you about plants that grew in her native home or about how to grow different kinds of food. Sometimes she’d even bring in sketches of said plants that she’d have her husband draw up for you. Once you got older you always made sure to slip her some extra silver or bring her some of her favorite foods from the kitchen. She had a sweet tooth and as a child you loved to share your desserts with her as you sat outside in the heat.
She came into the room pushing a small metal cart with food and a few cups on it. Her hazel eyes meet yours and instantly her expression softened. “Oh baby,” she said sadly as she crossed the room to pull you into a tight hug, “He said you haven’t been eating but look at you.” Lista placed her hand on your head and held you tightly. She was right of course, you’d lost a noticeable amount of weight from not eating.
Before you could stop yourself you were crying into her shoulder, as if a damn had broken you let every one of your emotions flow. She held you for a long time, just shushing you and running her hand down your hair not unlike she used to do when you’d fall as a child and she’d carry you inside to get bandaged. You heard the door close quietly and eventually composed yourself. As you pulled away Lista gave your forehead and light and loving kiss. “I don’t understand, why are you here? What’s going on?” You asked, face still wet from crying.
“You wouldn’t let me help you so I had to track down someone who could.” Grimmjow said from behind Lista, he sounded irritated but far less so than normal. “Which was not an easy task since none of them wanted to give me any kind of information about anything.” He said leaning back against the door.
Lista rolled her eyes, she had never been one to shy away from any kind of confrontation and wasn’t about to start now. “Now listen here boy,” She said to Grimmjow earning her a growl from him, “You have to think about it from our point. Y'all barge in here, kill a whole lot of us, take our lady as a war bride then have the gall to demand to know who she’s close with,” She said pointing her finger at him. “Doesn’t really scream that your tryin’ to help the poor girl.” She finished.
Grimmjow's nose crinkled and his eyebrows furrowed but he didn’t say anything, which was unusual. Lista gently pulled you towards the small cart of food, “Listen to me little lady,” she said, voice much softer than when she’d talked to Grimmjow, “Ya gotta eat, I can’t imagine how awful it is for you here but you have to. People are gonna start to notice that you're not.”
Grimmjow scoffed from behind the two of you and you turned slightly to look at him, “Yeah they are, if I noticed your husband will too, and I can garentee that he’ll force you to eat about as kindly as he fucks you.” Your face twisted in disgust as did Listas.
“The boys right but ignore him.” Lista began as she reached for a small mug on the tray drawing your attention from Grimmjow.
“Can you stop calling me that?” He interrupted angrily. Neither one of you turned around to face him.
“No,” She answered, “Now hush.” You heard him growl again but it was much more half hearted than the previous one. “I had the magisters make this for you, you need to drink it daily but it will keep him from putting a child in you.” Your eyes widen at the realization. Lista gently places the mug in your hands, it's warm and it doesn’t smell at all pleasant but you’re so happy to have it. “The boy has promised to get it to you each day and I’ll make sure that the kitchen staff have it made for you, do you understand?” She asks looking into your eyes.
You nod your head quickly, “Lista, I’ll never be able to repay you for this.” You tell her genuinely. She reaches forward and gives your forehead another light kiss.
“Just eat my dear, don’t let that man kill you.” You nod again and promise her that you will, “I have to go before someone sees I’m gone, but I’ll come back when I can.” Lista says before giving your hand a squeeze. You exchange goodbyes and another hug before Grimmjow opens the door for her, letting her out before closing it behind her.
Grimmjow stares at you for a while before it ticks in your brain that he’s put in a lot of work to make this happen for you. You don’t understand why he’d bother or what he’s seeking by doing so but you’re grateful regardless. “Thank you, again.” You say to him before downing the tea quickly.
He continues to stare at you while you place the mug down, “I already told you not to thank me princess.” He says with no real bite, you think it might be the first time you’d heard him talk without anger or irritation, besides of course when he’d make lewd comments at you but still.
You can’t help but wonder why he’d done it, “Can I-“ you started not really knowing how to say what you wanted, “Can I ask why you went through all the trouble?” You asked quietly. He might not want your thanks but you did want some answers, and maybe if he’d been in a good enough mood to help you he might give you some answers.
“Eat.” He commanded crushing your hope for answers. You roll your eyes at him but pick up your fork and knife and do as he says. It’s been a long time since you’ve eaten anything so you don’t quite eat what you normally would, stomach no doubtably having shrunken a bit. Grimmjow doesn’t leave, there’s an awkward air in the room as you can all but feel his eyes looking at every bruise and mark that Aizen had left on you. “You want him dead don’t you?” He asks out of nowhere.
You stop all movement and look up at him through your lashes. He’s not angry, he’d gone back to lounging against the door and was picking at his nails with his thumb seemingly uninterestedly. When you don’t answer his gaze flicks up to you, “I- uh, well,” you stutter, placing your utensils back down. You have no idea what to answer with. He’s been nicer to you as of late but you still don’t think that you can tell him that you want his leader dead.
He gets tired of your stuttering and spits out, “Well, if you do want him dead you should hurry up and do it before he starts questioning why you can’t get pregnant.” He says it all with such a casual tone as if you were talking about the weather or something else equally as unimportant.
It’s your turn to scoff at him, “Yeah, that’s something I can manage.” You quip back sarcastically with a roll of your eyes. How could you possibly hope to kill a man that could cripple a kingdom?
"You could,” He says, pushing off the wall and walks towards you. He picks up the knife from the cart and reaches for you. You sure he’s about to cut you and you try to pull back but he grabs the back of your head and pulls you closer. He brings the knife close to your eye but doesn’t touch you with it, “The next time he climbs on top of you, put a knife through his eye,” he says before lowering the knife to the center of your neck, “or through his throat. Or learn to live with him.” He says looking down at you, your eyes lock with his and he keeps you firmly in place, “Either way enough of this pathetic damsel shit.” He releases his hold on your head and grabs your arm, placing the knife in your hand.
You think for a long moment and Grimmjow doesn’t move, he just watches you run problems through your head. You shake your head and look up to him, “I can’t, what if I fail?” You ask even though you already know the answer. Aizen would kill Renji, and anyone else he knew you were close to, like Momo or Lista.
Grimmjow shrugs and turns around and starts walking away, “He won’t kill you if that’s what you're asking.” He says in an annoyed tone.
“I know he won’t kill me but he will kill Renji.” You say to his back. He stops walking and is silent for a minute, clearly thinking about something.
He looks at you over his shoulder and his eyes narrow. “Your little knight’s not here anymore.” He informs you. Your breath catches and your heart sinks.
You’d let Aizen do whatever he’d wanted with you and he’d still killed him? Your eyes glazed, “But I- I did what he wanted, I married him. He’s dead?” You say rapidly, tripping over your words the whole time.
Grimmjow scoffs and you think he’s going to insult you again but he doesn’t, “I never said he died.” He says in a harsh tone, “Your brave and valiant knight managed to escape along with an entire holding cell the night of your wedding.” He informs you like you're stupid for not knowing.
You breathe out a sigh of relief, “So he’s not dead?” You ask just to confirm with him. If what he’s saying is true that lifts a lot of weight off your shoulder, you might still be stuck here but at least if you don’t do something perfectly for Aizen he can’t kill Renji.
“Not yet,” he says with another shrug. “Can’t say he won’t be soon though, Aizen’s pissed, sent a whole group out after them. If they’re not back in three more days, me and my group switch with them.” You don’t know why he’s telling you all this but you think this is the most helpful that he’s been. “When he catches them it won’t be pretty, he doesn’t like to be fucked around with like that.” You don’t say anything back and he leaves the room.
You set the knife back on the cart. You think over everything that Grimmjow had told you, you know you can’t kill Aizen, he’s quicker than you, stronger than you and more battle ready than you’ll ever be. But there is another option now. You decide that you’ll bid you time and when the timing is perfect you’ll escape. It might take a while but you swear to yourself that you will. You’ll find your fathers camp and get away from here, Aizen can’t use you if he doesn’t have you. You start making plans on how to do so. Firstly, you decide, you need to figure out where you're going.
That means tomorrow you’ll have Grimmjow take you to the library so you can look over the books and records of where your border camps are. You’ll figure out how to get rid of your guards another day, but for now your feeling much more hopeful.
~~~
Grimmjow brings you supper a few hours later and you eat as much of it as you can manage. Aizen returns a few hours later and the rest of the night follows the same path as all the previous. Only this time you’re not scared to get pregnant. You are still scared of him and what he could do to you but you no longer have the threat of hypothetical children hanging over you. When he finishes with you he doesn’t immediately pull you to sleep like normal, instead his eyes rack down your body causing you to shiver under his gaze as you catch your breath. “You should let yourself enjoy this more.” He says to you.
You look at him before huffing a depressed sounding laugh and looking away. You don’t want to enjoy this with him. You already hate how your body responds to him; you don’t want to give your mind up to him as well. “There’s nothing wrong with enjoying love making with your husband.” He states as if it's a matter of fact.
Slowly your eyes look back to him and you give a small chuckle. “This isn’t love making and it’s certainly not love.” You tell him back firmly.
Aizen’s quiet for a moment, considering your words, “It will be,” He tells you, your eyebrows knit together, “Not today, not tomorrow, not for a long time but you will enjoy what I do to you. What we are.” He says and you shake your head lightly, you will not, you’d sooner throw yourself from the roof. “You will, this is your life now, you can fight it all you want but you will.” He tells you as his hand runs up your leg. You try to pull back but he doesn’t let you. He pulls you down the bed to him before snaking his hand under your back and pulling you so that you're kneeling over his lap.
Your eyes widen and he smirks at you. His hands fall to your hips and give them a light squeeze before he flips you around so that you're sitting in his lap with your back pressed to his chest. You try to move from his hold but he forces you back with a strong hand atop your thigh. You feel his cock twitch underneath you making panic rise in you. His free hand trails from up your stomach to your breast. You shake your head and he chuckles as he begins to flick your nipple. You can’t help but whine in his hold, you’re already so sensitive from everything he’d done to you before this that all your nerves are heightened.
The hand on your thigh slides downwards, between your legs you choke on a gasp as he runs his knuckles along the length of your folds, lightly grazing your clit with every pass. “Please,” you whine, he just hums to you as he continues. “Please stop.” You plead, voice barely above a whisper.
He brings his mouth to your ear, “Beg me to fuck you.” He demands warm breath fanning your ear before he nips at it. You shake your head in denial, you won’t do that, you can’t do that. “Beg me to fuck you,” he repeats, “Or we’ll stay like this all night.” His fingers begin circling your clit in earnest. “I’ll have you coming on my fingers until you pass out and even then, I’ll keep going until you wake back up.” You're crying again, your hands are on each of his wrists trying to stop him but you're not strong enough to pull him away and he just ignores you, “I can keep you here as long as I like.” He tells you.
He doesn’t stop and you try your best to hold out. By the time he pulls a second orgasm from your body you’re crying hard and you throw your head back on his shoulder, arching to try to get away, his hand at your sex doesn’t stop, it doesn’t even slow. You're so overwhelmed and his attention is starting to hurt, you’ve come twice this round and twice the previous and its all just too much for you. He kisses the side of your head gently compared to how he moves his hands. You’re so desperate to get him to stop that you give in, “Please.” You say words leaving you breathlessly and barely audible.
Even though you’re not looking at his face you know he’s smiling as he hums to you, “What was that love? Did you say something?” He asks even though you both know he’s heard you and is just toying with you. You whine pathetically, of course he’s toying with you, it's what he adores most.
You swallow thickly and shutter, his hands are still moving against you making it all the more difficult to focus on the words coming out of your mouth. “Please!” You all but shout.
He gives a small chuckle against your head, “Please what, my love?” He asks and you grit your teeth so hard it feels like they might break. “I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what you want.” His cock twitches again beneath you showing just how much he’s enjoying breaking you down like this, how much he enjoys humiliating you.
Your jaw tightens as more tears of frustration fall down your face. You’re sure you look like a mess but you take a deep breath and say, “Please, Aizen...” He takes a deep breath in as you continue, “Please fuck me.” You beg him in a whisper, you're flushed and humiliated. You don’t think you’ve ever hated anyone the way you do him at this moment.
His hands are on your face, pulling you to meet his lips, back arched against his chest, with bruising force. He moves your head how he sees fit as you try desperately to catch your breath, feeling almost relieved that his hand is off your core. You can’t help but twitch in overstimulation. One of his hands leaves your face and trails down your body, for a moment you're afraid that he’s going to start teasing you again but he moves past your folds. He’s lining his cock up to you again and you pull away for his lips ready to beg yet again for him to please just give you a moment of rest, you know that he won’t stop but you can at least try to take a breather.
But he doesn’t give you the chance to get the words out. Aizen thrusts up into you and from this angle he hits so much deeper. You cry out as he bottoms out, it doesn’t hurt nearly as bad as it had the first time of the night but it still wasn’t exactly pleasant. He breathes your name out and stills, you take the opportunity to take a deep breath. “See that wasn’t so hard now was it?” He asks in a low tone. You squeeze your eyes shut as both his hands rise to your breasts, he teases your nipples making you whine as he stays still inside you. “You will learn to enjoy this sweet girl, I swear it to you.” He tells you before he starts moving inside you, it's not nearly as rough as he had been, not to say that it was gentle by any means but it didn’t hurt like it had previously.
It takes a while for him to find it but after a few minutes he finds that spot inside you that makes you see stars and you can’t stop the lewd sounding moan that it rips from you and your hips involuntary buck with his own. You hand shoots to cover your mouth in shock and you still your movements. Aizen doesn’t let you keep your hand there for long though, he pulls your hand away, bringing it up and giving it a small peck, his other hand falls to your waist to keep you moving in time with him. “I want to hear you my love, I want to know how much you like having me inside you.” He says still trusting inside you, taking special care to thrust just right to keep that spot stimulated. You couldn’t form words and you shake your head in denial as the pain starts ebbing away much to your hatred. You don’t want to enjoy this, you want to scream and you think you’d rather have him fuck you rough than take you in a way that forces you to betray yourself.
He chuckles warmly into your ear and after a while gets you to keep moving in time with him. Then his hand moves from your waist to your core and begins to rub your clit in time with his thrust. You gasp loudly and try to pull away from him, he won't let you though and you know it’s futile. You don’t know why he wants you to enjoy this but he does and he takes care to make sure that he gets what he wants. You can’t think about anything but how his cock is moving inside you as you wither and moan his name in little broken cries. Quickly that knot starts building and you're more of a moaning mess, you're still moving in time with him and can’t form enough thoughts to stop. “Feeling good?” He asks breathlessly with a smile. You hate how smug he sounds, how happy he is that your body is feeling pleasure from him. It snaps something in you and you let your movements stutter to a stop and you regain the ability to think for a moment.
You know he’s only doing all this to upset and humiliate you further. You pull yourself together just enough to tell him, “I hate you.” In a broken whisper. He laughs and picks up both the pace of his hand and his thrusts causing you to scream his name out. His other hand starts forcibly grinding your hips into his own again. His thrusts start losing rhythm and his hand spreads up further. The knot inside you snaps and your unable to stop yourself from sobbing and arching your back with your head on his shoulder as he fucks you through it, still toying with your clit the whole time. He finishes inside you for the second time a few thrusts later, hand finally coming to a rest between your legs. You fall back into him, eyelids heavy and tears still lightly falling.
He rubs your legs soothingly as he untangles himself from you and gently lays you down on the pillows. He leans down and kisses you softly before pulling away to look in your eyes. “Hate me all you want, lie to me and yourself if you must but you did enjoy that.” You avert your eyes not wanting to look at him. He kisses your forehead then laid down next to you and drapes his arm around you.
Sleep does not come as easily as it had been. Instead you laid awake upset. You know it was involuntary but he was right, you had enjoyed that. You were a mess for him, you matched his thrusts and moaned for him. You begged him to fuck you. You hated yourself for how weak you were. How weak you are. You couldn’t pull him off you, you couldn’t kill him and you couldn’t even stop him from manipulating you to do whatever he wanted.
Eventually sleep does come and surprisingly you dream, something you haven’t done in weeks, perhaps you’d been too exhausted. In your dream you are with Aizen again as you just had been, except you're not fighting him at all. You're grinding your hips in time with him and moaning obscenely, his pace picks up and you loop your arm around his head to hold onto his hair to ground yourself.
Except the hair in your hand is different from Aizen’s, it's not styled the same and seems a bit shorter. You turn to look back but a hand grabs your chin and keeps you looking straight ahead. “Something the matter princess?” A voice that is very much not Aizen’s rasps into your ear. Instead the voice belongs to Grimmjow and the last thing you remember from your dream is his strange bone mask pressed against you.
You wake with a shaky breath and wide eyes. Your heart is beating wildly out of control as you try to wrap your mind around what just happened. Behind you there’s the sound of metal rattling and you go to shoot up and see what’s there but a hand shoves you back down. Your back hits the mattress with enough force to knock the air from your lungs and you gasp. You take notice that the hand in question is pushing the blanket from the bed against your upper chest. Your eyes shoot up to meet a set of azure eyes staring back at you.
You flushed being this close to him even though you know logically that he had no way of knowing what your brain had just conjured up of him. Grimmjow’s leaning over you, one knee rested on the bed to be able to reach you and keep you in place. “Unless you're planning on giving me a show I recommend keeping yourself covered princess.” He tells you bluntly as he slowly pulls away from you.
You’re left gaping at him for a moment before your mind starts processing what’s going on. “Why are you here?” You ask in a high pitched tone as your arm moves to hold the blank in place over your chest so you can sit up. It’s early morning, you're still naked and he shouldn’t be in here.
He looks at you a second before gesturing behind him to a plate and cup of steaming tea on your nightstand. “Your hag couldn’t make it up so I brought your food.” He said, irritation thick in his voice.
It clicked into place that he’d promised to bring you the tea every morning and made sense enough. “Oh, t-thank you.” You stutter out quickly not being able to look at him and flushing more in embarrassment. You were embarrassed that you’d thought of him like that even if you were unconscious. You couldn’t deny that he was handsome even with the strange bone mask and near constant scowl, but he was also an ass and was rude to you and you didn’t want to think about him like that. He had kidnapped you and brought you to Aizen. He antagonized you for fun and got angry when you didn’t react in a fun enough way for him. He had been kind a few times but he always took such a bastardized approach to it that you couldn’t tell why he’d done it. He made little sense to you so it made even less sense that you’d be having lewd dreams about him.
You could feel his gaze and your eyes flicked to his for just long enough to see them narrow before you looked away again. You don’t know what gave you away but he can tell that something’s wrong. “What’s wrong with you today?” He asks harshly, eyes still fixated on you.
You swallow and try to think of something to say, nothing comes to you and he starts stalking towards you. In a panic you say, “Nothing!” A little too loudly. Your response makes him stop walking but he cocks an eyebrow and scoffs like he doesn’t believe you, “I’m not wearing any clothes can you please get out?” You say with a bit of distress in your voice as he stays firmly planted. He eyes your exposed neck, shoulders and what he can see of your chest making you tug the blanket higher before he rolls his eyes and turns away. He leaves without another word, slamming the door behind him.
You wait a second before moving to make sure he’s not going to come back in before you reach over and drink the still hot tea quickly. You decide to go wash and get dressed before eating. You planned to have Grimmjow take you to the library so you could look over the geography books and maps and start to figure out where your fathers camp might be. You bathe, trying and failing to make yourself seem clean and brush through your knotted hair leaving it to fall naturally. You dress in a black dress that was left for you with the same neckline as all the rest. You knew your hickies and love bites would be on display but there was little that you could do about that. You look at the beautiful crown that sits permanently on the dresser and leave it there. You won’t wear it. You won’t have anything to do with it. You slip on your flats and quickly eat as much as you can manage.
With a deep breath you go to the heavy door and pull it open. Grimmjow is leaning beside it and his head immediately snaps to you. His eyes widen and he pushes off the wall to fully see you. He looks you up and down twice before his eyes settle on yours and he smirks at you, “Well, look at you all dressed up and pretty again.” He says, making you flush a bit, you’re used to him calling you princess but you were not prepared for him to call you pretty. It’s such a simple thing to say but it gets a reaction out of you which only makes his smirk grow. “What do I owe the honor?” He says smirk never leaving his face.
You keep eye contact with him refusing to keep backing away. “If you don’t mind, I'd like to go to the library.” You tell him. He seems to consider it for a moment and for a second you worry that he’ll refuse but he doesn’t.
He lets out a sigh, “Fine, it figures though, you finally wanna go somewhere and it's the most boring place in the manor.” He said with a roll of his eyes. He led you to the library silently after that, you hadn’t seen anyone on your walk which was reliving in a way. He held the door open for you, the library was huge, far larger than the one at your own manor. Rows upon rows of shelves line the room, all with little engraved plaques to tell you which genres the shelves held. As you walked through the library looking for what you needed Grimmjow trailed behind you, running his fingers lazily over the spines of the books and messing with them as he went.
After a while you had a decent stack of books about previous wars of your kingdom, localized weather, localized geography, as well as a few books on local plants and a book about how to grow different crops to make your pile look less suspicious. Grimmjow, you noticed, didn’t pick anything up but you didn’t give him much thought. You strolled over to a small sitting area adored with a few plush sitting chairs as well as a matching chaise and some small tables. Grimmjow flops down on the chaise as you set your books on the table and sit yourself. “Is this really what you’re gonna do all day?” He asked, looking bored already.
You just shrugged at him, “I like to read.” You say as you pick up the book about wars, hoping to find something about where to locate your father, perhaps see if there was an area that they often came back to for their temporary camps. Grimmjow scoffed and threw his head back and stared at the ceiling. You read the first two chapters before you heard him signing and shifting around. You ignored him and got a single page read before he interrupted you.
“What are you reading?” He asked in an annoyed voice like you were inconveniencing him. You looked at him over the top of your book to see he was staring at you.
“It’s about history.” You said, you didn’t want to specify to him what kind of history. While he had been kind a few times and he’d all but told you to kill Aizen you still didn’t want to chance fate and have him report what you were planning to do back to someone.
He raised a brow at you, “They all about history?” He sneered looking at your stack of books. You were a little worried that he had seen through your white lie but you steeled your face trying not to let anything show.
You shook your head lightly, “No, there’s a few about weather patterns and geography but most of them are about local plants and crop growing.” He rolled his eyes and stretched while you went back to reading quietly.
You made it another few pages before he spoke up again. “Why plants?” He sneered at you. You look back over at him and he’s resting with his hands behind his head. He’s looking at you again and it makes you wonder if he’d looked away at all.
You fidget under his gaze and shrug, “I like gardening.” You say, he scrunches his nose and furrows his brows at you, “In the warmer months I like to be out in the gardens and take care of the plants, it's nice.” You elaborate to him.
He gives a light laugh, “Of course you do, princess.” He says and it's your turn to look confused at him. “It’s fitting is all.” He tells you, “Of course the prettiest little princess likes flowers and sunshine and shit.” He says and you can’t tell if he means it as an insult or not.
Instead you tell him, “I’m not a princess, stop calling me that.” His face broke out in another smirk and he flipped himself to lay on his side, head resting in his hand.
“Closest thing I’ve ever seen to a princess.” He says smirk growing a bit, “You’re a pretty girl with pretty little dresses that grew up being waited on hand and foot in a manor. You’ve got a strong family name and despite it manage to be the most delicate little thing I’ve ever seen. For fucks sake you had your own little knight and everything. What part of that doesn’t scream princess?” Your face flushes at his words, it's the third time today he’s called you pretty and you really don’t know how to react to it and you’re sure he knows it. It makes your cheeks burn every time and your pretty sure that he’s only doing it to mess with you.
You roll your eyes and he gives a chuckle, “None of that makes me a princess.” You tell him stubbornly. Your face is still burning red but you don’t want to let him win.
He barks another laugh at you, “I guess you’re right,” he says with a light shrug, “You’re a queen now aren’t you? Technically speaking.” He says with a cock of his head. Your eyes narrow at him, and you decide you're done talking to him and resume reading. Or you at least try too. You can feel him looking at you even if you won't look at him. It makes you fidget and you’ve read the same paragraph four times and you still have no idea what it says. Your mind wanders back to the crown on the dresser. He was right, technically but you didn’t like the thought. You didn’t want to be Aizen’s queen, the thought depressed you.
You tried not to think about it and focus on the task at hand but between Grimmjow’s gaze and his words you were thoroughly distracted. You think about what it actually is to be a queen, you certainly don’t feel like one, you can’t see yourself up there with the previous queens. You think about your escape plan and wonder if it’s actually possible, you don’t know that it is but you’d rather risk dying out there than to stay here with Aizen for any longer than you have to.
Then you start thinking about Grimmjow and what an enigma he was to you. He was rude and bold but he could be kind at times. From the first night you’d meet him in the forest he’d been like that. He’d offered you advice but refused to answer any questions and treated you however he felt like. He’d gone out of his way to find Lista to help with the tea and to get you to eat but only after he said you looked like shit and complained that you were boring. Then today he’d started calling you pretty but only in ways that were used to fluster and embarrass you. You couldn’t help but wonder if he actually thought you were pretty or if he was saying it to upset you.
You stopped yourself from that train of thought, you told yourself that you didn’t care why he did it and that you wanted him to stop. What business was it of yours what he thought of how you looked, you were sure he thought you were pathetic already. What did it matter if you were pretty and pathetic? He frustrated you worse than anyone else ever had so why couldn’t you stop thinking about him? You chalk it up to that stupid dream and that you’ll forget about it in a few days.
You reread the same paragraph for the fifth time before he spoke again, “You read a lot before all this?” He asked laying on his back with a thump. “Seems super boring.” He looks at you out of the corner of his eye waiting for your response.
You set your book down on your lap and looked at him. “Yeah I did,” you think back to all the time you’d spent reading with Momo or all the books about flowers and plants from other parts of the world. It felt like such a long time ago even though it had only been a few weeks. You can’t help but wonder if you’ll ever be that girl again, if you’ll ever lay around and read with Momo or if you’ll ever go out to the gardens and pull the weeds out of the flowerbeds. Then you start thinking about your mom. She loved to read and started teaching you when you were three years old, she had always been so patient with you as a child. You remembered when she first got sick the two of you would sit together and read for hours, when she began getting sicker you would read aloud to her so she could relax and listen.
A tear slipped down your face and you were quick to wipe it away, you looked down at your hands and tried to focus on not making yourself more upset. You weren’t sure if Grimmjow had seen your tears but if he did he didn’t say anything about it. “Who taught you?” He asked, looking up to the ceiling.
“My mother.” You said simply, you didn’t want to tell him about your mother. It felt too personal. You didn’t get to keep much of your life private as of late but that felt too private to share with him or Aizen or any of them. He just hummed to indicate that he’d heard you. “Why don’t you go find something to read? You wouldn’t be as bored.” You offer to him wanting to change the subject.
Grimmjow turns to look at you, his eyes narrow and his eyebrows furrowed. You meet his gaze in question. “I can’t.” He bites out angrily.
Your eyebrows shoot up, “You can’t read?” You ask, you knew a lot of servants and common people couldn’t but he just seemed so above it all. You didn’t know anything about his life but you had just figured that he was a knight or some kind of equivalent maybe from a good family but it seemed that wasn’t the case.
He growled and sat up, “I swear princess if you try to make fun of me I’ll-“ He starts to say before you cut him off.
“I’m not making fun of you! I’m sorry, I just thought-“ You cut yourself off struggling for the right words. You didn’t want to make the situation worse by accident but you wanted him to know you weren’t making fun of him. It wasn’t his fault if no one had taught him. “I don’t know, you just seem like you come from some high family or something, I just figured…” You let yourself tail off. He huffed a laugh and you chanced a glance at him, he had leaned back and didn’t look like he was about to rip your head off anymore. “I’m sorry.” You tell him.
He looks back up at you and for a brief second you think about offering to teach him how to read, but ultimately decide against it, he’s not your friend and you have things you need to focus on. He sighs, “Your fine princess, don’t apologize.” He told you before laying back down. He doesn’t bother you too much the rest of the time in the library, in fact your pretty sure he fell asleep for a few hours but that’s fine, it gives you time to examine what you need to in silence.
By the time your ready to leave you have a faint idea of a place your father could be. There’s place high in the northern mountains near the border of your land that would get heavy use up until a few decades ago, it now sat abandoned but if they were fighting with Aizen and trying not to get captured it was a likely place to go. You couldn’t definitively say he was there but it was the best lead you had. You had no idea how to get there or where in the mountains it was but that was a problem for later.
You rose from your chair and stretched out with a yawn, your legs were sore from sitting so long in one position and your eyes were heavy from the strain of reading all day. You looked over to Grimmjow to find him staring at you lazily while still laying down. “Done for now?” He asks and you nod. He rises and leads you through the halls back to your room. Before you can get there you hear voices. Grimmjow's eyes narrow just as Nnoitra and a man you’ve never seen before round the corner.
They’re laughing about something but Nnoitra stops as he sees the two of you, he looks between the two of you for a second before that wolffish grin streaks across his face. “Well look who it is.” He says to the man with him. The other man is slightly shorter than Grimmjow with red hair. He wears a bone mask like the rest of them, it covers his chin and jaw and rises in twin spikes on the side of his head. He doesn’t say anything but he does look you up and down slowly.
“Piss off.” Grimmjow tells them, then stops a few steps in front of you which you're thankful for. There’s something about Nnoitra that terrifies you, maybe it's the way he looks at you like he wants to eat you alive or the way he talks to and about you like you're less than a person but none of it sits right with you.
I wasn’t talking to you,” Nnoitra says with an eye roll. He looks back to you, “I just didn’t expect to see her again. Figured she’d kill herself in all her misery.” He said with a laugh. “I owe Yammy four silver now, he said she’d have to come out sooner or later.” He said continuing to laugh, his red haired partner also gave a small chuckle. He looked down to your neck then to your chest. “Though maybe she’s not all that miserable, maybe she likes getting fucked like a whore.” He sneered at you. Your eyebrows shot up and you flushed in anger and embarrassment. You’re pissed at the very idea that you’d want any of this and the name he’d called you. You're anything but a whore, you’d never even been with a man or entertained the idea before Aizen had forced you to be his wife.
Grimmjow’s jaw tightens and he looks angrier than you’ve ever seen him. “Shut the fuck up, go take your pathetic ass somewhere else. Just because you can’t get your cock wet doesn’t mean we need to deal with your bitchy attitude.” Grimmjow says before grabbing your wrist and dragging you past the two men. The red haired man just watches you two push past but of course Nnoitra isn’t done yet.
He lets out a wild laugh, “Is that what’s going on here?” He asks, you’re confused by what he means until he continues. “Ya been fucking her while Lord Aizen’s not around?” You can hear the grin in his words without looking at him, “She’s got so many marks on her how would he know if you put one on her, smart really. I’d fuck her if I could get close too.” Nnoitra snorted and his partner laughed too.
Grimmjow releases your wrist and whirls around on Nnoitra, sword drawn and pointed sharply to his long neck before you can recognize what happened. “One more word. One more fucking word and I’ll have your head on the damn floor.” Grimmjow says voice low and threatening. Nnoitra held his hands up in surrender but kept smirking all the while. Grimmjow doesn’t move for a while, clearly thinking on whether or not to just kill him and be done with it but something convinces him not to.
He turns sharply and sheaths his sword before pushing you forward back towards your room. He’s silent until you're a ways away from the other two men. The whole way you're tense and thinking about Nnoitra, he scares you, badly. He’s unhinged and you're terrified that he’s going to hurt you one day, he’s all but said he would. “Don’t worry about him princess, we all know what he’s like and no ones going to let him come anywhere near you. Aizen would kill them.” He says trying to reassure you as you reach your door.
You can’t help but think about how he’ll be gone within two days and while you’re not friends he has made it clear that he won’t let anyone hurt you but you're unsure about the rest. What if whoever fills his place lets Nnoitra in? Or what if the replacements themselves are like him? Grimmjow had told you that not all of them were fully loyal to Aizen and you had no conceivable way to know who was and wasn’t. “And when you leave? What about then?” You ask, panic getting the better of you as you look up at him.
His eyebrows twitch upwards in an almost unnoticeable way, his eyes dart around your face before saying, “Like I said, Aizen would kill if something happened to you. While I’m gone Loly will be your guard.” You didn’t know who this Loly was and he seemed to realize that quickly. “You meet her once I think, black hair, pigtails. She’s kinda a bitchy.” He tells you.
You remember her from the day she’d brought you the dress. She hadn’t said anything to you and you were a bit surprised she was a guard but you didn’t voice that thought. “She’s not gonna be the nicest to you but she’s capable enough.” He reassured you. You nodded at him and he looked at you for a moment longer before opening your door for you.
~~~
Your night and following day played out the same as the previous. Aizen came back, did whatever he felt like with you, you woke up, dressed, ate, went to the library then came back only for Aizen to have you again. You started trying to rise earlier to avoid being naked when Grimmjow entered with your tea and breakfast. You're in the bathroom brushing out your hair after your bath when you hear the door open and close. You assume it's Grimmjow and finish with your hair and go to greet him. Yesterday he’d been the closest to nice he’d gotten. He didn’t outright insult you, besides calling you princess but you couldn’t rightfully tell if that was an insult or not. He’d bothered you a lot while you read but you couldn’t find it in yourself to mind it. Sometimes you’d even welcome the brief distraction.
But when you leave your room it’s not Grimmjow who stands in the center of the room. It’s the red haired man who had been with Nnoitra the other day. He looks at you and smiles as you stay put in place. His eyes fall to the deep v-neck of your dress and he licks his lips making you want to cover yourself but you don’t have anything to do so. “Can I help you with something?” You ask, you’re getting nervous under his gaze.
His eyes flick up to you and he looks predatory. “Oh you’ll be helping me alright.” He says before making his way to you quickly. He grabs you by the hair and you go to shout for help but his other hand smacks across your face so hard you're thrown to the floor. He picks you up from the floor by your hair roughly and you feel blood trail down your chin and neck, your lip is burst and your face burns where he came in contact with it. “Who ya callin for? Grimmjow? You forget he’s one of us?” He mocks as he walks you back towards the wall.
He slams your back into the wall hard enough that you can’t breath for a second, he slots one of his legs between yours and you try to push him away. “Aizen’s gonna kill you if you touch me!” You shout, remembering what Grimmjow had said and praying that he stops.
This only makes the man pull your hair harder, pulling you to your tip toes and making you cringe back. “He’s never gonna know, how would he, like Nnoitra said you’re covered in marks. He won't notice one or two more.” You try to kick at him but he just pushes closer. “Never fucked a noble bitch before, can’t say I ain’t excited. You’re a fuckin pretty one too!” The hand not holding your hair grabbed your clothed breast and you again tried to scream, he smacked you again, not as hard as the first but it still hurt. “Don’t make me fuckin gag you.”
Tears fall down your face as he wraps his hand around your neck. You can’t breathe and he rocks his hips into yours while still smiling at you. You can feel that he’s hard but struggling gets harder and harder as you lose air. You’re terrified that your about to black out as stars dance across your vision. You try to pull his hand off your neck but he just smiles brighter and bucks into you harder. You can’t breathe and you’re sure that he’s about to kill you but he eases up a bit, you don’t know why and don’t have time to think about it as you suck in air. Suddenly your door slams open and the stranger's hand falls from your throat completely just in time for you to see the man get grabbed by his own hair and thrown to the floor. You take in a breath but hold it as you watch what happens in front of you.
He hits the floor hard and rolls onto his hands and knees. Above him Grimmjow is advancing on him in a silent rage. You’ve seen him angry before but never like this, he looks feral, like a beast hunting its prey and the red haired man must see it too because he starts crawling backwards and trying to reason with him. “Wait! Wait!” He shouts, still trying to escape. “We can work something out, come on! Grimmjow!” He yells before Grimmjow kicks him so hard he files back a few feet, cracking his head on the floor, spilling blood across the stone.
The man tries to get up and lunge at Grimmjow but he’s stopped before he can advance by a sword cutting into his side, knocking him sideways and back to the floor. He screams as he goes down and behind him Ulquiorra stands behind him with a completely natural and bored looking face. Neither of them look at you, instead they watch the bleeding and withering man on the floor.
Your legs are shaking, you lean back against the wall, legs buckling beneath you and you finally let the held breath escape you. Grimmjow whirls around quickly and makes his way to you grabbing your upper arm gently and pulling you up. His eyes flicker all around your face and he opens his mouth to say something but then closes it.
“Don’t move.” You hear Ulquiorra demand behind Grimmjow. “Lord Aizen’s on his way and you’ll be dealt with.” Grimmjow doesn’t bother to look back at them, instead he looks you over a second time. Grimmjow’s jaw is locked tight, he looks less feral than he had when he was fighting the man but he still looked ungodly angry and you go to apologize but the sounds of shoes hitting the stone floor make you stop.
“Take him to the throne room and wait,” You hear Aizen command, voice angry. You finally look away from Grimmjow's face to the door. There’s at least a dozen servants trying to look in, they had parted to let Aizen through but were still trying to gawk into the room. All of them were your people and they all looked horrified. Ulquiorra grabs the man by the arm and drags him out as the man begs Aizen for forgiveness. Aizen doesn’t even look at the man as he is dragged past. The servants all step back out of his way. You watch Aizen’s brown eyes fall to you, he looks at your blood for a long moment before his eyes snap to yours. He’s angry and you're terrified of him, you’ve never seen him like this but you knew it couldn’t end well. “Everybody out, I need a moment with my wife.” He demands, voice angrier than you’d ever heard. You watch everybody file out, Grimmjows the last one out and he shuts the door behind him with one final glance to you. Aizen doesn’t say anything as he makes his way to you.
#bleach fic#bleach x reader#cross posted on ao3#grimmjow x reader#multi chap fic#aizen x reader#aizen x y/n#tw noncon
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If You Love Me | pt.1
🌹AngstFluff/Smut (18+ MA) Part II
🌹Black Female Reader x Mark Tuan
🌹shower sex
🌹Your boyfriend Mark has been away on his first solo tour for his album, The Other Side. You haven't seen him in months and something is...off. Now that he's back home, there are a few things you need to get off your chest.
🌹20 notes, and I'll release pt. 2 ~
You stared intently at the last text messages your boyfriend sent you.
(7:00 pm) Markie-moo💜: I just landed😁
(7:05 pm) YAYYYY💕 can't wait to see youuuuuuu
(7:05 pm) you sure you don't need me to pick you up?
Read 7:09 pm.
(7:10 pm) Markie-moo💜: I'm sure😊 I need to go by the studio real quick, then I'll be omw
(7:10 pm) Markie-moo💜: I can't wait to see you, beautiful🖤 I've missed you so much
(7:15 pm) Okay💕 Let me know when you're otw home... I've missed you more!
Read 8:30 pm.
You glanced up at the time on your screen...It's 11pm.
"Your father is very late." You sighed at Milo, who could only look up at you and tilt his head as if he understood the severity of you using the word 'Father' and not 'Daddy'.
The television screen shined through the tall bottle of red wine that sat on your living room table, which casted a shadow on an open bag of gummy bears. You already started snacking on them an hour into waiting for Mark to get to your apartment, and only just realized that you obliterated half the box already. You spent the past three days gearing up for Mark's arrival from his first album tour; aimlessly cleaning your place, cooking all of Mark's favorite foods, buying wine, and meticulously sprinkling rose petals all over the bedroom. You even got dressed up and wore that perfume he liked on you... only to find yourself feeling silly, scratching the belly of his furry baby, as your bones grew stiff waiting for him.
Regrettably, you couldn't deny that you weren't surprised he was a little late. The strongest part of your relationship with Mark was first and foremost, honesty. Mark hated lies and had never told you one himself. Which is why it was so obvious that he has been lying for the past few months. Badly. I was stuck at the studio and I lost track of time, being the most frequently used of the bunch. You'd find him speaking in a low tone for phone calls, rarely letting you use his phone or laptop, and getting absorbed into his phone screen. He started becoming distant... becoming someone completely different from the man you met. You started suspecting he was cheating.
You moved to LA six years ago to pursue owning a business and had no intentions of having a long-term relationship. Mark was a little timid towards you when you first met him through a mutual friend. He never said much outside of the realm of "Hi", "How are you", and "How are you doing?" But as you stuck around more and more, you couldn't help but be drawn to him. You felt connected talking to him about your aspirations, hopes, and fears, knowing that he was always there to listen and share some of those same feelings. It also helped that Mark was (and still is) the most beautiful man you've ever met in your life. Every time you met up with him, you found yourself drinking up all his features; from his pink, heart-shaped lips that opened to a breath-taking smile, to his deep, dark, entrancing eyes. The last time you got lost in Mark's eyes as his best friend, was when your business hit an all-time low.
~
"I just don't know, Mark..." you sobbed through clogged sinuses. "I don't think I can't still support myself if my business can't make more sales."
Mark was only inches away from you on your couch as you cried into your fetal position.
"Hey, hey..." Mark gently placed his warm hands on your shoulders. "Don't think like that. You've done amazing so far... There has to be something else you can do to get your sales up."
"Well..." You poked your head out briefly. "I could do more marketing... but I already spent so much money on marketing and-"
The tears started reforming in your sore eyes as you hid your head back into your knees. Silence hung in the air like a bad joke as the idea of complete failure circled in your head... You would have to leave the life you worked so hard to build in LA, only to return home to square one, with your tail between your legs. You weren't ready to leave your hard work, your home, your friends, or Mark...
"Y/N..." You felt Mark leaning closer to you with a rasp in his voice. "Look at me."
You reluctantly looked into the eyes of your friend, and suddenly, all the anxiety and fear that you felt only seconds ago, felt like forgotten emotions. His eyes seem to pull you into their calming, deep brown pools.
"Ever since I met you, I have seen you fight and work hard for this. I've admired your passion, and how dedicated you are to your dreams... It's one of my favorite things about you. You can't give up on this now. Not after you worked this hard. Not after you've built this life for yourself all on your own... Not to mention how hard it would be to say goodbye to you if you leave."
"Mark..." You felt your heartbeat in your throat.
"I care about you... and I hate seeing you struggling like this. If you need help, why didn't you ask me?"
"I just didn't want to inconvenience you... I know you've been busy in the studio and doing photoshoots I-... just figured that could do this on my own. Like I've always done everything on my own."
Mark's eyes trailed yours, slowly inching to your nose then your lips...
"You don't have to do this alone." You felt Mark snake his long fingers in between yours. "I'll be there for you... like always."
The bubble developing in your throat was an indication that the waterworks were rising again. Up to this point, Mark has been the most supportive, honest, sweetest, considerate, and the most chill person in your life. He's always been there to listen to whatever you had to tell him; what you see each other doing in the next few years, or a late-night drunken rant about pineapples on pizza. And whenever Mark called, you would drop everything just to hear how his day was. Whenever you hung out with him, you could be alone or in a group of other people, it was like it was just you two. Your soul mate...
You looked into Mark's eyes again, feeling your heart start to race... in your trance, your eyes wandered across his face, admiring how the low glow of the Livingroom television showed his soft textured skin. How his hair was poofy since he raced over to you from his nap. Sometimes you felt like you didn't deserve someone this amazing and supportive to be in your court. But Mark was just your cute little blessing on top of all the other ones. Overcome with emotion, you crash into Mark's arms and held him tight.
"Thank you so much, Mark. For everything." Your stress left your body in a big sigh. "I love you..."
You felt Mark's arms around your waist slowly pull you closer to his body and his face buried into the crook of your neck.
"I love you more..."
You replayed his response in your head as you held on to him.
"I love you more" Thump.
"I love you more" Thump-Thump.
"I love you more" Thump. Thump-Thump-Thump. Thump.
Your heart started to race. Goosebumps raised when Mark's breath lightly brushed your neck, and you felt his strong heartbeat thump against your chest. What was this feeling? You were scared to pull away, frightened of getting lost in his gaze again.
"Um, right s-so..." You cleared your throat. "Thanks again, Markie."
You tried pulling away... but found that Mark's grip was still tight around you.
"Wait..." He spoke in a low tone that made your spine shiver.
Your heart felt like it was going to climb out of your mouth. Of course, you've been this close to Mark plenty of times before, you guys have practically held hands before. But there has never been this type of tension hanging in the air. It was almost suffocating. You looked into Mark's eyes for some sort of sign... but damn, he was looking so gorgeous. Your eyes traced his whole face; every curve of his pink lips, every line in his jaw & every eyelash sitting upon his beautiful eyes. Oh, his eyes... they seemed to sparkle... and they were intently fixed on your mouth. Instinctively, your hands made their way up to his jawline, which produced a small sigh from Mark's parted lips.
He was slowly closing the space between your faces. The heat started to rise in between your ears, as you battled with the thought of kissing your best friend. If you did, you could be either making the best decision of your life... or ruining a friendship with a man you cared for deeply. But you couldn't deny... you wanted him. With every heavy breath that Mark breathed, with every second his hands tightened around your thighs, with every inch that his lips drew closer to yours... your desire for him grew. The realization that you loved him grew.
"Mark-"
With the most genuine softness, Mark closed the painful gap between both pairs of lips. Both of your bodies were lost in each other... neither of you realized just how steamy your little make-out session got. You became a couple shortly after, with this year being your third year together.
~
With each passing day, you felt more frustrated in your conflicted feelings. On one side, you were upset at him... but more at yourself for letting the situation grow. On the other hand, you felt the yearning for him grow hot and restless in your core, and eventually, you couldn't help but touch yourself out of the thought of him. The way his dark, loose curls flop over his forehead, the sparkle in his eyes, the sincerity of his smile, the sweetest of his cologne, the slight curve of his lips, the softness of his skin, the heat of his breath-
You snap out of your trance when you hear the jingle of keys at the door. You tap your screen back to life. It's 11:55 pm.
"I'm home!" Mark poked his head through the door at beamed at you on the couch.
"Mark..." You couldn't help but sigh.
"Babe!" Mark cheesed the brightest smile you've ever seen as his chest collided with yours.
His arms tightly squeezed around your waist as you heard him drink in your scent. Finally, your boyfriend was home, with a bouquet as bright as his smile. Almost instinctively, your nerves weakened in his warm embrace, and you melted around him. You forgot about everything you were ever upset about. With every bone in your aching body, you wanted to hold him... feel his skin gently graze yours, caress his adorable face, and shower him in kisses... but he still broke his promise. The one person in your life who was always truthful, real, and loyal... wasn't anymore.
"I missed you so, so much..." Mark whispered into your ear.
"Mark..." You pulled away from him. "What took you so long..."
"I'm sorry," He sighed. "I got tied up again-"
"Mark I..." You paused. "I've spent all of the past 3 days preparing all this stuff for you. And I have been... trying so hard to be so excited for you to come home. For you be in my arms again, to kiss you, to make absolute love to you..."
"What?" Mark's eyes widened.
"We need to talk about something."
Mark's smile slowly started to fade and the bouquet slowly lowered from his grasp.
"You've broken the one promise that we've had in this relationship... you lied to me, Mark. And you've been doing it over and over... And I'd hope that our bond was strong enough for you to realize that I would notice that."
"Hey-"
Mark gently placed the bouquet on the kitchen counter and held both of your hands in his.
"Do you truly think I'm cheating on you?"
You looked longingly into his eyes, only to be handed a cold, serious gaze in return.
"No," You bit your lip in hesitation. "You wouldn't do something like that. But I don't know what to think, Mark."
Mark sighed deeply...
"I leave for months and come back to a fight..." He scratched the back of his head in frustration. "You said that the one promise we made in this relationship was honesty, but you broke another one too. You don't trust me to be loyal to you?"
"I do trust you! But what am I supposed to make of this, Mark?" Your eyes stung.
Mark's cold gaze softened. "I have never had the thought of ever cheating on you and would never. I'm sorry that I was distant and made you feel that I wasn't being truthful."
"I'm sorry I didn't talk to you about it until now..."
"You have nothing to be sorry about. I've been waiting for forever just to get back home to you." You felt his warm hands caress your waist. "Can I please kiss my beautiful girlfriend now?"
"Yes." You breathed.
Mark snaked his hands further around your waist, and with a passionate firmness, pursed his lips between yours. You felt your body tingle with warmth and your heart beating heavily against your boyfriend's chest. A groan left Mark's lips as he left yours.
"Hey..." Mark's voice turned raspy as he eyed your body. "You deserve my honesty; The real reason I have been distant is because I was putting a lot of energy into planning something really important."
"Planning something...?" Your head cocked to one side. "For your album?"
"No, for you."
"For me..?"
Mark's lips cut your question short and derailed your train of thought.
"It's a surprise for later." You could feel a smirk developing on your boyfriend's soft lips. "Let me enjoy the surprise you have for me first."
Mark gazed over at the romantic display you made in the living room.
"Do you like it? I hope I didn't go overboard..."
"It's perfect." Mark looked into your eyes with the utmost sincerity. "And you even got me my favorite gummy bears? It's everything I could have wanted. And you being here with me makes it all better."
Mark infused passion into every aspect of his life, and his way with words was no exception. Surprisingly, conveying his feelings verbally wasn't always his forte in our relationship. However, he consciously broke free from the habit of murmuring, trailing off, and avoiding eye contact. Despite not being the most talkative when we initially met, the incomprehensible extent to which Mark went out of his way to express how much I meant to him was truly remarkable.
"I'm so glad you're home." You wrapped your arms around your boyfriend's torso and pulled him close.
"Me too." You felt a light peck on your forehead. "Why don't we get this night started?"
~
It was 2:45 am when the credits started to roll on the third horror movie that Mark insisted that you both watch. Unfortunately, he had been too invested to realize that you had fallen asleep since movie number two. You found the most heavenly spot on his chest to rest your head, and with his right arm snuggled gently around your torso and his left hand resting on your thigh, it was a guaranteed recipe for a great night's rest.
"The gore in that was something else-" Mark cut himself off when his eyes came to gaze on your sleeping figure.
Your face was adorably smushed up to Mark's chest, letting out soft breaths as you rested. All four of your limbs found themselves wrapped around his slim body, trapping him in your sloth-like embrace. Mark's eyes traveled and the bottom hem of your dress found itself dangerously hiked up to expose your smooth thighs.
Mark rubbed his hand against your thigh. "Wake up, babe."
You blinked your eyes awake and gazed upon the tired eyes of your boyfriend. "Oh shit, did I fall asleep?"
"Definitely. And I think you were snoring a bit, too." He joked.
"Oh stop." You rubbed your eyes to get a better view of the clock. "Oh shit, it's late..."
Mark's voice became hushed. "Maybe we should...continue this celebration upstairs?"
"You're ready for bed?"
"I am. But not necessarily sleep."
You smirked, picking up on his hint. "Oh, I see..."
Without saying another word, you took Mark's hand and guided him up the stairs, where you were greeted by the romantic glow of the moon.
"Oh..."
"You like it, right? I got rose petals, the candles are all lit..." You gestured towards the bathroom.
Mark pulled your hand back towards his body and planted a firm, hungry kiss on your lips.
"You are so sweet. This is amazing..." His warm hands caressed your cheeks. "How do I deserve someone as perfect as you?"
You could feel the heat of his breath on your lips. He was close, too close. The temptation to press your mouth to his was too much to handle. You could almost taste the mint of his toothpaste.
"I know I've been a little distant for these past few months." Mark started. "It's just... I've had a lot on my mind. There's something I've been meaning to talk to you about, but I didn't want to rush things."
"Yeah?"
"But now, I can't hold back." He cupped your cheek and brushed his thumb against it. You felt his gaze bore into yours, and he seemed to study every inch of your face.
"What is it, baby?" You pressed.
"I'm so in love with you. I love you so much that it hurts. I love how passionate you are, I love how you make me feel when we're together, and I love that you've been patient with me during this whole process. You're my rock. You make me want to be a better person. I want to be worthy of you."
"Mark, you already are." You gently held the sides of his face. "Don't say that. You are good enough, Mark. You have such a kind heart and a big soul. You're the most loving and caring person I know. Just don't get too caught up in your music, and start overworking yourself. You're not gonna find me there."
Mark let out a soft chuckle in response.
"You always know what to say," Mark breathed. "I need to ask you something."
"What is it?"
"I know that I was gone for a while, and I want to make it up to you. So, how would you feel about me taking you on a trip?"
"A trip?" You shot him a confused look. "Where would we go?"
"Oh, don't worry about that." Mark kissed the tip of your nose. "I'll take care of everything. Just be ready to leave for this weekend."
"Three days??" You giggled. "You really just planned a whole trip, huh?"
"Anything for you."
As Mark leaned in to kiss you again, you couldn't help but notice his scent. He smelled like the airport and the plane and everything else that was not his normal aroma.
"Speaking of jet setting, you smell weird," you chuckled.
"What do you mean?" he laughed back.
"I'm not sure, but you just smell different."
"Well, I should take a shower then," he suggested. "And maybe you can join me."
"Okay, but don't try any funny business." You smirked.
"What?" He feigned innocence.
"You heard me," you replied, wagging your finger at him.
"Well, I guess we'll just have to wait and see," he said, pulling you close.
"Wait and see, huh?" you repeated.
"Yeah, just wait and see."
You rolled your eyes and pulled away from him, making your way toward the bathroom. As you walked into the bathroom, you could hear Mark following closely behind. You pulled him toward the bathroom and turned on the shower, the sound of the water filling the small room. The sound of unzipping made your head turn to Mark, who was already undressing. You watched on in perverted wonderment at how his abdominal muscles flexed under his perfect skin as he moved to remove his underwear. He glanced over his broad, muscular shoulders, smirking while keeping eye contact as he bent down. You admired how his hair grew poofy from the steam beginning to form around him.
"Enjoying the view?" Mark's husky voice startled you, causing your eyes to snap to his face.
"Shut up," you said as you joined him, sliding the flimsy slip of material you wore onto the floor.
Mark's eyes burned with need as his gaze traveled up your legs, slowly drinking in the image before him.
"Damn..." he breathed as he raked his teeth across his bottom lip, his dark eyes meeting yours.
You smiled coyly at him as you stepped into the shower, closing the glass door behind you. Mark's eyes never left yours as he joined you in the warm spray of the water.
"Mmm," he hummed as he cupped your cheek and brought his lips to yours.
The kiss was soft and sweet at first but quickly turned passionate and needy. You ran your fingers through his damp curls as he pressed his hips into yours, his hardening length brushing against your stomach. His hands were everywhere, exploring every inch of your bare flesh as the water cascaded around you. You moaned softly as his lips found your pulse point, sucking the sensitive skin into his mouth.
"I love the sounds you make," he growled as he gently nipped the delicate skin.
"Hey, don't forget that you have to take a shower, stinky." You chuckled.
Mark grinned and rolled his eyes, grabbing the bottle of shampoo that rested next to the tap.
"Okay, okay."
You watched in anticipation as he squirted some of the soap into his hand, before applying it to his hair. His eyes stayed fixated on yours, which flickered down briefly to take in his naked, glistening body. You couldn't help but admire his perfection, even when doing the most mundane task. How his pectorals flexed with every movement, as he brushed and lathered the soapy bubbles throughout his coils of dark brown hair. How his veins tightened from his arms to his hands, and how each drop of water seemingly dripped at a pace slow enough for you to memorize. Your gaze traced down from his chest to his abs, and even further down past the borderline of pubic hair where-
"Babe."
"Sorry, what?" Your eyes shifted back to his face.
"Were you paying attention?" Mark smugly raised an eyebrow.
"I was definitely paying attention..." You trailed off.
"So what was I saying?"
"You were saying, that I was being the best girlfriend ever!"
"Mm-hm."
"By making us dinner tonight."
"Mm-hm."
"And how your favorite gummy bears are an ample reward for me having to put up with you-"
"Alright," Mark chuckled as he laid his index finger on the seam of your lips. "Point made. You got me."
"Duh." You nipped at his knuckle. "You're so easy. What did you say, anyway?"
"Something..." Mark teased as he dunked his head back under the water, washing the remaining shampoo down his torso. "About how much I really, really, missed touching you. All of you."
You snorted. "You mean our little quickie at LAX before you left didn't cut it?"
"Is that what you call what happened at LAX?" He asked, pulling you close and pressing his arousal against you.
"Yes," you giggled. "Because that is exactly what we did. You were the one trying to miss your flight."
"I couldn't help it." He groaned. "It was just so hot."
"Oh shut up." You laughed.
You grabbed the bottle of body wash, poured some on your towel, and rubbed the soap into the cloth.
"Are you gonna help me or what?" You asked playfully.
"What do you think?" He replied, grabbing the other end of the towel and helping you rub the wet cloth along your body.
Your breath hitched as his hand moved from your ribs down to your hips and your mouth dropped open when you felt his fingertips graze your behind. You groaned loudly as Mark continued to caress your ass, his other hand sliding around your waist and pulling you into his embrace. You shuddered as he pressed his lips against your neck, murmuring words of love and encouragement in between every kiss.
"Why didn't you come with me on tour, again?" Mark asked as he continued massaging your skin.
"We talked about this, Mark," you replied, lightly rolling your eyes. "I wanted to be here and continue working. And I don't think I'm cut out for road life."
"But I wanted you there..." he pouted, making your heart stop. "I missed you like crazy."
"I missed you, too..." You turned to face him, seeing him still with an upset frown. You reached for his hands and gently ran your thumb over his knuckles.
"But I don't think I can spend another tour without my Markie-Poo," you admitted with a soft smile.
You looked up to see your boyfriend with the brightest grin you've seen him with in a long while. Mark immediately took the back of your head and pulled your face towards his in a loving embrace, getting soap all over his arms and torso...
"So you're telling me that the next tour I have, you're coming with me?"
" I promise."
"I could get used to having you near me every day," Mark whispered into your ear, his low voice sending shivers down your spine.
"I'd hope so," You replied. "It would be pretty confusing to accommodate another presence in our bed, otherwise."
You could see a pout starting to form on your boyfriend's lips. You loved how Mark could make a face of indifference switch from a stone-cold wall into a begging, adorable, child. The pout quickly melted away, however, and you were only able to appreciate its short existence for a split second. His eyes shifted from your own to your neck, his pale and slender fingertips gliding gently against your exposed collarbone.
"Hey..." You whispered into his ear. "What are you thinking about?"
Mark didn't speak. Only paused for a moment, as if contemplating what he wanted to say, but only getting lost in your beauty. Your breath hitched. His eyes were focused on yours as he inched closer to you. He never broke your stare until his hand suddenly reached up and he placed it ever so carefully against your cheek, causing you to inhale deeply. His eyes flickered over your face, resting for a brief moment at your lips, then back up to meet yours once again. His hand traveled from your cheek and made its way down to your chin, tilting your head up slightly. His lips met yours, softly and gently. He didn't push or rush. He seemed to savor the moment, pulling away just enough to let out a small whimper.
"Did you just moan?" He asked.
"Mmmm, maybe," you replied teasingly.
"If we weren't in the shower right now..." he started.
"Then what would we be doing, Mark?" You asked, grinning at him.
"Then," he said, his low voice rumbling as his hand wrapped around your waist, gently moving his face close to yours. "I would be taking you against the glass."
Mark kissed your forehead tenderly and continued his gentle ministrations against your skin.
"We would start slow," he began. "My hands would travel all over you, starting at your hips. I'd go over them over and over until I could feel you shake."
You bit your lip as Mark's movements matched his words. You could feel your cheeks warm from the way he talked. He had never talked to you this way. Never with the confidence and sultry tone of voice. Mark was normally a gentle, passionate, yet quiet lover.
But this was different. It was sexy. You loved it.
A moan escaped from your lips, unable to suppress the shiver that ran throughout your entire body. The mere thought of having him inside you caused your muscles to twitch and spasm. Mark chuckled lightly as he leaned into you, his hands still exploring your curves. You loved it when he held you. His touch felt so warm and comforting. It made you feel safe and protected, but at the same time, you loved how strong his arms felt against your frame. He felt so large compared to your small size and it gave you the most pleasant butterflies.
"After that I would pick you up, your legs around my waist," he said softly, pulling back a bit to stare into your eyes. "And then, I'd drive you insane..."
He emphasized each word as if he were whispering them into your ear, and his words left you breathless and speechless. Mark's voice had a way of making you feel things you've never felt before.
"Sounds like you really want to have shower sex," you said with a slight giggle.
He kissed you passionately as his hands glided back to your ass once again, gripping you firmly as he slowly lifted you in the air. You wrapped your arms around his slender neck, and your legs around his waist. As your curves pressed against him, you could feel his excitement, causing your eyes to widen slightly. You hadn't even touched him yet, and he was extremely excited for you.
Mark placed one hand against the shower wall for support and you looked into his beautiful brown orbs once more.
"Have you been wanting me, like I have been needing you?" He asked in a low and husky voice that sent shivers through your body. You answered him by pressing your lips against his and kissing him passionately. After a few seconds, Mark moved his kisses across your neck and down to your collarbone. He sucked on it lightly, causing you to gasp as your nails dug into his shoulders. He let out a small groan, and you couldn't help but laugh slightly. The man was adorable.
For five agonizing minutes, he tortured you with his mouth, and slowly lifted you higher. Your heart started beating so fast, causing a mixture of nervousness and excitement that blended perfectly.
"Relax babe," Mark cooed.
You took a deep breath, the smile not leaving your face, and nodded at him.
Mark entered your slit slowly, his length engulfing your walls slowly. You sucked in a breath and shut your eyes tight, letting yourself enjoy this feeling of being filled so completely by your boyfriend. He went deep, his entire length inside you now. He let himself stay there for a second, giving you time to get used to this new feeling. Then he pulled out a few inches before sliding back into you. He continued this process, slowly getting a rhythm, his thrusts growing in power. You moaned each time his length penetrated you.
"Yes..." you breathed and heard Mark moan in response.
He increased his pace even more, driving his length into you and then withdrawing completely with each thrust. Soon, the sounds of water splashing off your wet skin filled the room. Mark became a mess of grunts and pants every time he penetrated you, audibly teasing you toward your climax.
"Babe, you feel so-" A deep moan escaped your boyfriend's parted lips.
His breath was hot on your neck as he worked you towards your release, and it felt like electricity every time his skin touched yours. You had forgotten where you were, who you were, and what was going on around you, it was only you and Mark.
"Mark..." you moaned.
You couldn't hold off your orgasm any longer as waves of pleasure washed over your body. He continued his ministrations as you rode your high, and you watched him as you came down. You looked in awe at this beautiful specimen of a man standing before you as he held you in his arms. He just smiled at you and placed a kiss on your forehead.
Then he exhaled and put you down, slumping against the cold tile wall. His wet hair dangled over his blushed face. You smiled and placed a hand against his cheek, stroking it gently as you gave him another kiss, he kissed you in return, and the soft brush of his lips lingered as you pulled away.
"I love you," he said, his gaze fixed on yours.
"I love you, too."
You say "You took the energy out of me."
Mark smiled and leaned back against the wall. "I guess you could say that," he smirked, raising an eyebrow. "Do you think you'll be able to get to the bedroom? Or do you need me to carry you?"
You slowly stood up, ceasing the sound of running water with your index finger. "Carry me, please!" You pouted and raised your arms.
Mark chuckled as he opened the shower door to retrieve your towels.
"Alright, alright, my queen," Mark threw your wet towel on your head, muffling your laugh. "I'll carry you to the bed."
You pushed the towel off of your face as Mark slipped his arms underneath your wet body and scooped you up into his arms.
"Mmm, you smell much better," you murmured as you nuzzled against his neck. Mark snorted and kissed the top of your head.
You were smitten by his scent and the way he handled you with such ease. He gently laid you on your bed, sinking in on top of you, like you had been daydreaming of for months.
"I've missed this," he whispered, "missed touching you, missed watching you sleep..." He brushed a strand of hair away from your face and gazed down at you like you were the only person in the world.
"I missed waking up next to you, seeing your face in the mornings, and hearing your voice at night."
He brought his lips to yours, softly and sweetly like he was afraid you would break. His lips tasted like the memories of stolen kisses in dark corners and glances behind closed doors. The more you tasted his lips, the more you craved, and you pressed into him, desperate for more.
"Baby, I've missed you so much," he mumbled against your lips, "and you don't understand how crazy it's been."
"No kidding," you replied, returning his kiss with equal vigor.
"Everywhere I went, fans were throwing themselves at me. All I could think about was you. All I'm ever gonna want is you."
Your heart skipped a beat at the confession. You pulled away to smile at him, taking in his beautiful face. It wasn't just his looks that captivated you; it was his mind and his heart. He was pure goodness through and through, and you knew you were the luckiest person in the world.
"And all I ever want is you," you replied. Mark cupped your face and stared into your eyes, his deep brown eyes pooling with emotion. "You okay, babe?"
"It's nothing...I just- I love you," he said, his voice cracking slightly, "so much."
You kissed him fiercely, overcome with emotion. "I love you a shit ton too."
Mark laughed, the corner of his eyes crinkling. "Well, you better. You won't be able to get rid of me that easily."
"Good."
Mark smirked and moved his head down, trailing kisses across your stomach and past your navel.
"What are you doing down there? Aren't you tired?"
Mark looked up, his eyes twinkling mischievously.
"It would be a waste not to take advantage of the candles and rose petals, don't you think?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.
~
To Be Continued.
#got7#mark tuan#got7 mark#igot7#kpop#got7 yugyeom#got7 jackson#got7 jb#got7 bambam#got7 kpop#got7 scenarios#got7 smut#got7 jinyoung#got7 youngjae#mark tuan fanfic#mark tuan smut#got7mark#black reader#black reader x idol
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I CAN’T HELP BUT LOVE YOU
✧ — prince!logan sargeant x bodyguard!oscar piastri ( fluff )
Keeping up with the eccentric prince of Williams has always been a challenge on its own. The young man ran away from his lessons, hid from his servants when they wanted to dress him up in a ridiculous way, and was always curious about things he could not find in the castle. Most of the palace staff abhorred the idea of chasing after him, for the prince knew where they would never look. Therefore, they left this arduous task to the one who rightfully was supposed to deal with him — the prince’s bodyguard. Although the majority of the staff suspected the bodyguard of being in on the prince’s antics, none of them complained, for he was able to bring back the prince much quicker than any of them could.
Oscar tightened the clasps on his commoner’s cloak before pulling the ragged hood over his head. He turned to the prince, his lips curled into an amused smile as he watched him struggle. After a few minutes of silent laughter, Oscar decided to end his relentless wrestle-match with the linen cloak. Amidst the prince’s irritated mumbles, he gently took the clothing from his hands.
At Logan’s stunned and somewhat offended face, he chuckled. “Turn over, your highness. I’ll help you.”
“I could have done it.” The prince whined, yet still followed Oscar’s request. The bodyguard laughed as he draped the material over Logan’s rich silk.
“If I had let you do it, we would’ve left tomorrow.” He teased lightly, as his fingers worked, deftly adjusting the cloak to fit the prince’s broad shoulders. Then, he pushed the cloak over his head, successfully messing up the maid’s meticulous styling on his blonde locks. Oscar was going to have to apologise to her later. “Done.”
Logan fidgeted with the strayed ends of the clothing, a sad excuse as compared to his usual voluminous ones. “It’s itchy.”
His words startled another laugh out of his bodyguard. “Yeah, well, deal with it. You said you wanted to experience the Solstice with me, so you better deal with it.” He then frowned at the realisation of how thin the material was. “You sure you don’t need an extra layer? It’s going to be freezing out there.”
Logan shook his head. “I’ll be fine. I’m not shivering now, see?”
“There’s a raging fireplace in front of you.” Oscar deadpanned as he doubled a fur cloak over his clothing. “You sure?”
“I’ll be fine, Osc. Don’t worry.”
It’s my job to worry, especially with my head on the line if you die of frostbite. But Logan was also the prince, and every single command and request of his had to be followed, no matter how stupid it was. Oscar sighed. “If you say so.”
Logan grinned, his hand resting on the spine of Assassins through the Ages. “Shall we go then?”
For most of their childhood, the two boys had spent their time uncovering the secrets of the castle, searching every nook and cranny for hidden entrances and concealed switches. Oscar didn’t know whether to regret this — Logan usually used them to escape from his lessons — or applaud it — they were very useful for sneaking food from the kitchen. Now, as he consulted the hand-drawn map the two had created, he applauded it. A hidden switch behind Assassins through the Ages made for a perfect beeline to the village.
Logan hummed thoughtfully as he ran his hands along the stone walls. “What’s so special about the Winter Solstice?”
“Well, the Winter Solstice happens in the kingdom every 22nd December. It marks the first day of winter, and symbolises the coming of light through the dark.” Oscar replied. This was the first time the two of them were to spend the Solstice together, for Oscar usually went back to his family to celebrate. Logan had been curious, so Oscar made a — probably unwise — decision to invite him over to his place for the celebrations even though the prince was grounded for being late to one of the royal events.
Logan nodded along, although Oscar wasn’t sure he was actually listening. They descended through the bowels of the palace, their path lit only by a single lantern that Oscar held on to tightly. Soon, the shadows thinned as the tunnel came to an end and light streamed through the wooden trapdoor above the two. According to the map, it was supposed to lead to one of the abandoned warehouses in the village.
Oscar cautiously pushed it open, bouts of dust falling into the hole. He coughed and fanned the air. He gestured for Logan to enter. “You go first, then pull me up.”
Logan nodded before gripping onto the wooden frame and pulling himself up, Oscar gently supporting his ascent, his hands firm on the prince’s waist. He coughed and rubbed his nose upon reaching the warehouse, shaking out his clothes as he straightened. Then, Logan extended his hand out to Oscar, who took it immediately, albeit a bit too eagerly. The prince’s grip was firm and his hand was warm. Oscar found that the sensation was making his face flush.
He let out a few coughs upon reaching the dusty location, rubbing his chest. Logan raised an eyebrow at him in concern. “You okay? You look a bit red.”
Oscar’s face reddened further. He coughed again to try and cover it up. “It’s… dusty.”
Logan nodded, but the bodyguard could see that he was not fully convinced. The prince rubbed his arms slightly before pulling his linen garb closer to his body. “It’s cold here.”
“It’ll be even colder outside.” Oscar warned with a slight sigh. He ran a hand through his hair before adjusting his hood. “Ready?”
The prince shivered. “Yeah.”
With a flourish, Oscar flung open the wooden door. Almost immediately he shivered, the autumn breeze wrapped around him albeit the various cautions he took. He rubbed his arms subconsciously, trying to generate more warmth.
Oscar thought it was working, that is until a warm pair of arms snaked around his waist, holding him tight and pulling him close to the shuddering prince. His face grew warm. He hoped Logan wouldn’t notice.
“What are you doing…?” He whispered, though the streets were too noisy for anyone to pay them any heed.
Logan nuzzled his face into Oscar’s knitted scarf. “Getting warm.”
And he was getting him warm too. The bodyguard’s blush darkened. “I told you to wear extra layers, you dolt.” He said his words in a scolding tone, though there was a hint of laughter behind them.
The prince chuckled and held him tighter. “You don’t mind… do you?”
Oscar rolled his eyes but he couldn’t stop a smile from forming. He sighed. “I don’t.”
Logan’s face brightened. It was cute. It didn’t help the blush fade. “So, where are we heading?”
“My place, remember?”
“Wait, so we’re not staying in the village to enjoy the festivities together?”
He seemed almost disappointed. Oscar gave him a deadpan stare. “No. I already told my family you’ll be coming over and Olivia’s convinced you’re a fairy prince.”
“What?” Logan sounded a mix of perplexed and flattered. He furrowed his brows, his nose tinted with red from the cold.
Oscar wanted to laugh. “You wouldn’t want to disappoint her, right?”
Logan didn’t. Although Olivia hadn’t been born the last time he had met with Oscar’s family, the framed pictures in his room were enough to make the prince find the girl absolutely precious with her missing tooth and chestnut pigtails.
The prince sighed. “So, where are we going? Where is your house anyways?”
“You’ll see.”
Every single time he had met the Piastris was in the castle, where Oscar had invited them to stay in. Logan was more than welcoming. He had never actually been to or seen his bodyguard’s childhood home. The pair of prince and bodyguard weaved their way through the crowded streets before stopping at a rusted iron gate marking the entrance to the woods.
Logan’s grip on Oscar tightened as he surveyed the sight. Although it was yet to pass the afternoon, the woods were already darkening. The prince had heard rumours of the ominous location, and wasn’t all that eager to enter. Oscar shook his head at Logan’s fearful expression, his dark bangs falling into his face as he grinned. The soft glow from its orange-blue flames of the lantern drew shadows on both of their features and lit a path through the dense trees.
“It’s not that scary.” Oscar comforted with a smile. Logan didn’t seem convinced, hugging the bodyguard tighter.
“Your house is in the woods?” The prince’s voice shook, his face slightly pale albeit the red spots of cold. “I heard that people who enter don’t come out…”
Oscar laughed. “That’s nonsense. I’ve entered tons of times, and I’m still here, aren’t I?”
“Maybe that only works because you’re from the woods! I’m not, what’s gonna happen to me?” Logan’s grasp strengthened with every word he spoke, his heart racing. Oscar could hear its heartbeat pounding in his ears. He chuckled softly, before gently prying his hands off of his waist and squeezing them with a smile.
“You’ll be fine. You’re with me, remember?”
Oscar could’ve sworn he saw the prince blush. But judging from the weather, it was probably just the cold. A smile curled on Logan’s lips as he nodded, letting his hand drop to the side as he held on to Oscar’s with a firm grip. “Right.”
With a smile, the two of them descended into the bowels of the forest, the fading autumn light guiding their way.
The woods were silent, the lantern Oscar held up the only thing illuminated their path. Shadows quivered around them as leaves scrunched under their boots, venturing deeper into the forest. Logan was itching to unsheathe his sword, Oscar’s confident stride the only thing preventing him from doing so. That and the frigid temperature that was inevitably paralysing him. But Oscar’s hand was warm and his grip firm — firm enough to stop Logan’s imagination of what lies in the woods.
The first snow had fallen ages ago, and its descent wasn’t getting any slower. Logan had one of Oscar’s many fur jackets draped over his body, otherwise he would’ve frozen to death. Logan didn’t even bother arguing when Oscar offered it to him — partly because of his chattering teeth and partly because it felt good to wear something of Oscar’s. It smelled good too — burnt hickory wood with hints of cinnamon and honey.
The falling snow and wind didn’t cease, instead getting stronger with each minute. Logan squinted at the white forest. His hand squeezed Oscar’s before asking, “Are we there yet?”
The wind howled around him and a snowflake entered his eye, but Oscar’s voice still cleaved through the pandemonium. “No… we need to find shelter.”
For the first time throughout this whole journey, Logan heard Oscar waver. Of course he would falter. These were the woods of Williams, prone to rumours and disappearing travellers. The deluge of wind and snow were telltale signs of what could be a blizzard. Logan was terrified and shivery, but he knew he had to be strong.
For Oscar.
He held the bodyguard’s gloved hands tightly — not scared, just steady. The prince craned his neck, blue eyes scanning for a sign of a shelter through the raging winter. Spotting a cave, he tugged Oscar along with a small smile though he could barely make out his companion’s features through the snow.
Any other time, the cave in the woods would have frightened the young prince, fantastical stories of mystery clouding his imagination. Now Logan would rather brave the dark and damp than freeze to death in the blizzard. Oscar struck another match against the rock before lighting up the kindling he had pocketed from the prince’s fireplace. Always so prepared, he was. The bodyguard placed the fading lantern beside them as they huddled close to the flame, elbows touching.
Logan rubbed his numb hands together, trying his best to suppress a sneeze. He glanced at Oscar, who was strangely silent. The flames were reflected in his hazel eyes, his expression unreadable. The silence was tense. Logan didn’t like it.
He nudged Oscar gently. “You okay?”
The young man jumped, before rubbing his nose with was tinted red. “I— yeah, I’m fine.”
The prince knew Oscar long enough to detect a lie. He frowned. “What’s wrong? That’s an order.”
The bodyguard hesitated. “I, um… I’m just worried.”
Logan stayed silent, waiting for him to elaborate. Which he did after a few breaths. “I’m worried about a lot of things, to be honest — my family being caught up in the blizzard, the two of us not making it to my place, my family worrying about us not making it to my place… a lot of things.”
Then there were the unspoken words: I’m worried that we might not make it back.
Logan didn’t blame him for worrying. He opened his mouth to speak, to comfort him, to tell him that everything was going to be alright. But Oscar spoke once more. His eyes met Logan’s, and the prince could see a mix of emotions in them — worry, desperation and a hint of fear. And something else. It made Logan’s heart race.
“Logan,” Not ‘your highness’ or ‘milord’, but his very own name. Oscar’s eyes were pleading. “Do you know what happens to me if you don’t make it back?”
What about you? Logan wanted to ask. Instead, he just shook his head.
“They’ll have my head on a stake.” Oscar let out a bitter laugh though nothing was funny.
“What-!?” The prince didn’t even know exactly why he was surprised. He was the sole heir to the Williams Kingdom, and was frankly endangering his life just by being out of the castle. Adding on, he was technically grounded so he was not supposed to be out of the castle anyways. Logan wanted to yell at Oscar, ask him why the hell did he allow his life to be on the line because of his charge’s stupid decisions.
But he didn’t.
Because he didn’t regret it.
If he hadn’t done all the stupid things he’d done, he wouldn’t be in a dark cave seeking refuge from a blizzard, huddling over a flame in a commoner’s cloak. He wouldn’t have been able to don Oscar’s fur jacket and be this close to him any other way.
Logan must have been quiet for too long, because Oscar frowned and nudged him slightly. “You okay?”
A grin curved on Logan’s lips. Before he even registered what he was doing, the prince found himself leaning in towards him. “Want your head on a stake?”
Oscar’s face was red, moving back on instinct, as he shook his head.
Logan’s grin grew. He shifted closer to his bodyguard, their noses almost touching. “Then I’m gonna have to get warmer.”
Logan was never a pushy person, and Oscar liked that about him. He would never force his decisions onto anyone and valued Oscar’s advice, though his hyper-curiosity did get annoying at times. Oscar wasn’t the type of person to rush things. He preferred to take everything slow and into consideration, calculating every single move with caution.
But now, with Logan’s lips a few centimetres away from his own, he couldn’t help but wish he would move faster. The tempestuous weather outside the cave’s solace seemed to be dull and muffled and the fire’s crackling softened to a quiet sizzle. Oscar felt Logan’s breath on his face, misting with the cold, the scent of something minty and fresh.
Logan seemed to blush, as a small smile appeared on his lips. He looked almost shy, the playful exterior giving way to a bashful side of the prince. His voice was barely above a whisper. “Can I… kiss you?”
Adrenaline rushed through his senses, driving all sound out from that moment. For a single second, Oscar replayed those words in his head. Can I kiss you? He knew the answer. It had been in him for all those years, all those times the two had spent together. But now, when his dream was finally realised, the words seem to clog in his throat. But for once, Oscar couldn’t care less. He wasn’t that talkative, after all.
In a heartbeat, Oscar pressed his lips to Logan’s own.
And almost immediately, Logan reciprocated.
Fireworks erupted in Oscar’s belly, butterflies taking flight as his heartbeat raced. It started out tender, like the first snowflake that had landed on Logan’s nose. The prince caressed Oscar’s cheeks gently, spreading a soft blush across the bodyguard’s features. Epinephrine pulsed through Oscar’s veins and pushed him forward. He pressed himself closer to Logan, who seemed to have the same idea. It got deeper. Oscar savoured the taste of Logan’s lips — it felt so soft.
So right.
Only when they both jerked away, gasping for air did Oscar truly realise how much he craved it. How much he needed Logan.
The fire went out with a gust of winter wind, sending chills into the refuge of the cave. Almost immediately, Logan wrapped his arms around Oscar in an embrace, his teeth chattering. Oscar chuckled, flushing crimson. Logan gave him a childish pout before he laughed too. It was genuinely adorable to Oscar, sharing this moment with him. The realisation still hadn’t sunk in yet. This was Crown Prince Logan Sargeant of the Williams Kingdom, sole heir to the throne.
He had kissed the Crown Prince Logan Sargeant of the Williams Kingdom in a cave in the middle of the woods directly defying orders from the King and Queen.
And Logan had kissed him back.
This was Crown Prince Logan Sargeant of the Williams Kingdom, sole heir to the throne. His best friend, freezing-cold and draped in a linen commoner’s cloak.
And he was his.
Logan learnt a valuable lesson that day. And no, it wasn’t not to be late for major events that would inevitably leave you grounded. The prince wrung the edges of his wet cloak, drenched from all the melted snow. Beside him, Oscar stood with a smug grin, showered with Olivia’s bright-eyed awe. He nudged Logan teasingly. “Up for a rematch?”
The prince glared at him. “No.” He replied flatly.
Oscar laughed. “Afraid of losing again, your highness?” His voice was lilted with playful mirth. Logan chuckled dryly. In competitions like this, the bodyguard’s competitive side truly came out in full force. Note to self: Never challenge Oscar Piastri to a snowball fight. In all his shivering glory, the prince wished he’d known that sooner.
He rolled his eyes at Oscar’s words, before an idea entered his mind. His mouth curved into a cheeky smile. “Well, as the winner of our match… what would you like as a prize?”
Oscar turned red. “I…uh…”
Logan didn’t mind losing if it meant that he could see his friend looking this much flustered. The prince stood up, a good few centimeters taller than him. He leaned in closer to Oscar, a smirk riding on his lips. “Want me to choose one for you?”
A small nod was all the confirmation that Logan needed. The prince captured Oscar’s lips with his own, kissing him gently. His lips tingled with pleasure as warmth bloomed in his chest. He could get used to this. Logan pressed harder against him, deepening the motion ever so slightly.
An excited intake of breath and a following squeal made them both pull away.
Olivia stood, stunned and eager, before the two of them, her toothy grin ever so evident. She clutched her handsewn doll tightly. Logan was pretty sure his face was on fire. The little girl giggled, her chestnut pigtails bouncing slightly as she looked at them.
“Oscy!” Her small voice had a teasing hint. “You kissed the fairy prince!”
Logan exchanged a glance with Oscar before he laughed. “I’m actually a merman prince.” He grinned proudly. “Wanna see my—“
Oscar facepalmed beside him. “Don’t you dare.”
The prince gave him a cheeky smile, coupled with a chuckle. He bent down to whisper in Olivia’s ear. “I’ll show you my tail some other time, ‘kay?”
The girl’s eyes widened like saucers, sparkling like diamonds. “Okay!” was all she said before running back inside the Piastris’ house, probably to gush about meeting an actual prince.
“How exactly are you going to show her your tail?”
“I’ll figure something out. I always do.” Logan straightened, before turning back to Oscar with his signature grin. “Now, where were we?
notes: olivia is a purely fictional character !!
written by @princeofpyrenee + edited and finished by @dappledstars ; 2023
word count: 3425
#✧ — writing#✧ — collab#logan sargeant#oscar piastri#op81#ls2#loscar#osclo#0281#281#f1 fanfic#f1 rpf#formula one#fluff
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hi! Thank you so much for this oppurtonity to request! I am so glad the soul eater fandom is still alive after all these years!
Anyways can i request medusa x s/o who is her soul mate? (S/o is also a witch)
But in the end they didn't work out (for obvious reasons). And they are missed each other despite everything. I am not sure if you do angst but if you dont then thats ok just SFW headcanons pls. :) once again thank you very much.
of course anon! I actually started this blog because my favorite soul eater blog was deleted
figured someone had to keep it going, I'm so glad you're enjoying so far!
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Medusa x Witch! Soulmate
-let me get this out of the way
-you guys AREN'T healthy; at all
-but that's what made you so drawn to her
-you were being attacked by a meister/weapon pair and losing
-as you were close to being killed you felt blood splatter on your face, you looked up and saw an arrow protruding through the meister's chest, their weapon (not headless) next to them
-you looked up and saw with Medusa, her menacing aura was terrifying, yet you still managed to notice the small mark on your wrist disappear; a sign that your soulmate had been found
-Medusa looked at you with cold eyes and you just sat staring in fear
"my this is interesting, seems you're to be mine"
-and she took the word mine very seriously, you never had a choice really, waking up one morning in a locked room, you were now her lover; her prisoner, there was no say in it other than it happened
-your magic was far weaker than hers so you couldn't fight back, and you wouldn't die young like human, you were stuck
-you were only let out when she felt like it, often to clear her victim's blood off of her by taking a shower with her
-or for her to test new spells on you, seeing if you had the strength to fight back
-Medusa wasn't very talkative, but when she was, it was very condescending, reminding you that you were made for her and her alone
-the day she turned herself into the DWMA was the first day in a long time you had seen actual sunlight
-it scared you, burning your skin to even think about going beyond the confines of your prisoner; your home
-you had the chance to run away but you couldn't, so when Medusa found you weeks later, you didn't protest. following through on her orders without protest
-Eruka tried to convince you to leave but you just couldn't, after all you and Medusa were written in the stars, how could a fate like that be wrong?
-when you saw Medusa even in her child body she was terrifying as ever, all she did was give you orders, find Crona and make him fall in line
-she didn't love you, she never did, she didn't even like you in particular
-when Medusa's soul was obliterated, witches made a treaty with the DWMA
-you were free, to do whatever you please, where ever and whoever
-so why did you find yourself sitting in the same dark padded white room, waiting for her to open in and pull you to her, to feel her snakes wrap around you?
-an unshackled prisoner after so long finds himself longing for his confines after all
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just a reminder my dears situations like this are not love, if you have to be isolated to feel love for someone, it isn't real
I hope you enjoyed anon and continue to enjoy and request!
-Melodrangea <3
#black star x reader#crona x reader#kilik rung#kilik x reader#stein x reader#death the kid x reader#soul eater x reader#soul eater#dtk#soul x reader#maka albarn#mifune#maka x reader#marie#medusa#medusa gorgon#yandere#tw yandere#yandere x reader#DWMA#witch#witchcraft#witchblr
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first love of late spring - ot7 x reader
chapter four
table of contents
masterlist
join the taglist
discord
summary: falling, falling, falling- that's what you shouldn't be doing as a young intern at hybe. falling in love with your supervisor is frowned upon, especially all seven of them. you'll never learn, will you? guess you’ll just have to be their dark secret.
tags/warnings: intern!reader, poly relationships, stockholm syndrome, age regression, spanking, drug use, sugar daddy au, dubcon, body dysmorphia
taglist: @frieschan
February 1st was your first day starting as a social media manager for BTS. Scratch that- not a manager, but the social media manager. Your new position came with many amazing benefits, and you liked working from home when you weren't with the band. It felt like you were amongst the popular kids at school for once. You followed them around all day, taking pictures and videos for their socials. It almost felt like a dream- your job was to be their friend and photographer. They treated you more as a friend than a staff member.
Then there was dealing with the fans. Being sneaky and having a secret fan account on multiple platforms allowed you to see what the fans were liking and into, giving you more ideas for the official pages. That meant you were in on all the inside jokes, leaked information, as well as what was trending amongst the fandom.
Back in your youth, you ran a fan Twitter account for One Direction. You understood the fans better than anyone else because you were in their positions at one time. Times have changed over the past decade (you didn't even want to think about how long it's been), but getting back into the groove of things was easy enough.
"y/n, you don't have to be so formal with us," Jimin would tease you all the time. While your job was fun, you were still a staff member. The boys would call you out constantly on you referring to them as 'sir', complaining about feeling old, and whatnot. They saw you as an equal and awaited the day you felt like one too.
Today was the filming for a Run BTS episode. You didn't entirely understand the concept of the game- all you knew was that they were painting something and whenever they asked you to take a photo, you would. It was adorable- they would hold up their paintings like proud little kids. The photos would be posted to their individual Instagram accounts, so you would send each member a copy on KakaoTalk.
"I think y/n should be the judge!" Taehyung said, standing up from his chair and pointing in your direction. You looked up from your phone in confusion, only having heard your name and 'judge'. The boys noticed your deer-in-headlights look and let out an endearing laugh.
"Just tell us who you think has the better painting. We'll film a male staff member saying your answer so you don't have to." Yoongi said. You appreciated not having to have your voice in the recording.
You gave each painting a very good look. Namjoon painted what appeared to be the Han River. Seokjin painted a rainbow that had been destroyed by brown paint, most likely by Jungkook that sat next to him. Jungkook didn't have much on his paper, obviously focusing more on disrupting the other members. Taehyung had an all-black abstract drawing that almost looked like it belonged in a modern art museum. Jimin's painting was of a variety of flowers in a bouquet, also destroyed by Jungkook by a brown marking of 'JK' right in the middle. Yoongi and Jimin seemed to have a combined painting that illustrated the seven members of BTS as crudely drawn stick figures when placed side by side. You chuckled at Yoongi's portion of the picture where he drew Seokjin with comically large shoulders.
"Yoongi wins solely for how he drew Jin," you said, smiling at the excessive cheering from the normally calm member.
It really was days like this when you enjoyed your job.
You sat in one of the production lounges on your laptop, editing some promotional photos for Instagram. Stretched out across the length of what had to be the building’s comfiest couch, you let out a long yawn before checking the time.
A text alert is shown as you checked your phone. An unknown number had called you before sending a simple text.
‘Hey y/n it’s Jin, are you busy?’
You smiled as you responded ‘No’ with a smiley face. You had no idea where or how Seokjin got your personal number, but you didn’t let that thought bother you much. Once you felt your phone buzz with an incoming phone call did you sit up straight on the couch.
“Hello? Seokjin?” You asked. The line was quiet for a moment before you heard Jin’s voice through the phone.
“Hey, could you come to our dorm? It’s not urgent or anything.”
“Sure! Just text me the address and I’ll be right over,” You replied, standing up and starting to exit the building. There were the sounds of shuffling and muffled voices through the phone, making you wonder just what was going on over there.
“Actually,” Jin suddenly said, “It’s nothing. You don’t have to.” You stopped in your tracks, now very curious and concerned about what was happening.
“No, no. Come over. I lied,” Seokjin said quickly after, correcting himself. “We want you to come over.”
————
Jimin roughly nudged Jin with his elbow once the phone was hung up. There was no way he didn’t sound suspicious during the call- stumbling on his words and even backtracking on what he said. They were lucky you just followed along.
“Fuck,” Yoongi said, holding his head in his hands, “Now we need to think of a real reason why we needed her here. Jungkook missing her isn’t a good enough answer.”
“I think it’s fine…” Jungkook mumbled to himself.
Namjoon looked across the room and into the kitchen, coming up with an idea upon seeing the state of it. “We could tell her we needed help putting the cabinet knobs back on.”
“We need our social media manager to help us with home renovations?” Yoongi questioned Namjoon’s idea.
“We wanted to film a TikTok?” Taehyung suggested.
“Yeah, yeah. Let’s go with that one!” Seokjin said.
————
By the time the bus had arrived, the sun was close to setting. You kind of started to regret agreeing to come- it was late and you were quite tired. Finally, you had regulated your sleep schedule to be like a normal adult’s, and the members of BTS had to screw with it. What else did you expect from them?
Within seconds you were buzzed in and headed to their shared penthouse. All seven of them had their own apartments by now, but they all chose to live together still for the majority of the time. You often questioned how they were able to do it for so long- you had two roommates back in college that made you question your sanity at any given moment.
You barely even knocked on the door before Jimin opened it with a smile. He ushered you inside, and you stood in the entryway in awe. The dorm was beautiful and big. Much, much bigger than your tiny apartment that probably couldn’t even fit seven people in it. The ceiling was high up and the doorways were arched, making everything feel so much bigger and fancier.
“y/n! Thank God you’re here!” Taehyung said, running up to you and hugging you. You awkwardly stood there, allowing him to hug you. Never once had you had any physical affection or contact with them, and it felt like a weird time to break the boundary. You laughed slightly as he let go of you.
After taking off your shoes, you were led into the living room where the other members sat. It was odd- everyone acted as if you weren’t needed and that there was nothing you needed to do. The sitting members all smiled and waved at you, remaining in their spots on the couch.
“So,” you clasped your hands together behind your back, swaying slightly on your feet. “What do you guys need?”
“We just-” Jungkook started to talk, only to be interrupted by Namjoon.
“We wanted help filming a TikTok!”
You stared at him confused. Filming a TikTok was something they were more than capable of doing by themselves. You had directed some and given them ideas, but for the most part, they would just film it themselves. It felt more natural and created more of a connection with the fan base.
“You could’ve just done it yourself, you know,” You let out a chuckle.
“We couldn’t think of any ideas for one,” Hoseok said. He stood up from his spot on the couch and motioned for you to take his seat. You pretended to ignore him at first, but he only kept insisting you take a seat.
“I mean, there’s a trend of AI face filters right now. You each could do that.”
“Yeah! Let’s just play around with filters,” Taehyung said, pulling out his phone. “Wait, y/n has an iPhone. Can we use your phone instead?”
Without hesitation, you handed your phone over to Taehyung. The seven of them took turns playing around with silly filters, doing their best to keep you out of the shot. You happened to glance over at one that turned Jungkook’s face into a creepy unicorn.
Hours passed by eventually, and you took your leave. You stood up from the couch, trying to locate your phone. A chorus of disappointed ‘aww’s filled the room at your sudden insistence on leaving.
“It’s already 22:00 and the buses have stopped running. It’ll be a long walk.” You claimed. Jungkook stood up and walked over to the windows, observing the dark skies and falling rain.
“It’s pouring rain out there. We can’t let you leave in this- you’ll catch a cold.” He said. The others agreed with him excitedly.
“Or I could just drive-”
“No! It’s too dangerous. We’ll fix the couch up for you tonight.” Taehyung interrupted Seokjin and his logical solution. Everyone soon began to hunt for spare pillows and blankets for you.
“It’s fine, guys. I really don’t need to stay here.” You slowly began to approach the front door, hoping no one would notice you leave. Hoseok snuck up behind you, blocking your path to the exit.
“Nope, no way. We’re older and know what’s best,” he said, guiding you back to the couch. A crack of lightning struck and illuminated the dorm, making you jump at the sudden strike.
“Awh, you’re afraid of storms,” Jimin said, placing the last of the blankets on the couch. “Now we’re definitely not going to let you outside in this weather.”
The couch had a plethora of blankets and pillows piled high on it. It seemed like each member brought at least two of each for you to sleep on. When you pointed out the hilarious amount of blankets and pillows, you were told that it got cold at night. You looked over towards the thermostat on the wall that read 23°C. The members pretended to ignore your questioning stare.
You gave in eventually and got settled in on the couch. They made sure you were tucked underneath each of the six blankets and placed some pillows on the floor next to you.
“Just in case you roll off in the middle of the night,” Namjoon said, seeming like he was speaking from experience.
Within minutes of the lights turning off and the boys going to bed, you were out like a light.
Yoongi, Jungkook, and Hoseok snuck out of their rooms at one point, standing in the hallway and watching as the city lights illuminated your sleeping body. They watched as each breath caused the blankets to move up and down, and as you softly snored.
“You’re crazy for having this idea, Hobi,” Yoongi said with his arms crossed.
“I mean, it sounds like a pretty good plan,” Hoseok tried to defend himself. “Jungkookie really wants her, and I figured it would be fun for us, too.”
“We do really want her, hyung.” Jungkook said to Yoongi.
“We? What part of this involves ‘we’?” Yoongi asked, before letting out a sigh.
“Yeah, I guess it is we.”
#bts fanfic#bts x reader#kim namjoon#kim seokjin#min yoongi#jung hoseok#park jimin#kim taehyung#jeon jungkook#bts#jungkook x reader#taehyung x reader#jimin x reader#namjoon x reader#hoseok x reader#yoongi x reader#seokjin x reader#bts little space#first love of late spring
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