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little-miss-vader · 1 year

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His Best Girl.

Pairing: Anakin x Jedi!Fem Reader

Summary: You two used to be thick as thieves but The Council split you up. Anakin isn't having that go on any longer.

Warnings: 18+ !!!! SMUTTY !!!! Taking virginity, jealousy, restraint, dirty talk/praise kink, hair pulling, dominance, "master" kink, neck kissing, biting, unprotected sex, cunnilingus, etc.

A/N: Y/N/N means your nick name! Inspo from a drabble by @skywlker-sluvtt about the reader being a virgin/inexperienced. Surprise! It's a long one again. I haven't ever written one shots this long idk what's come over me. (It's Anakin. Anakin has come over me.) I love the anakin x jedi reader trope and I can world build forever with it. Anyways, enjoy you filthy animals and thank you so much for the love!! <3 Y'all have made me feel very welcome here.

Word Count: 4.4k

You were just a little girl when you were taken in by the Jedi Council. You remember how wide your eyes were as you watched the planet of Coruscant get closer and closer. You were 8. Anakin was 11. You both clicked quickly and were essentially glued to each others hips. You’d talk yourselves into trouble, sneak out to go stare at the stars at midnight and throw food at each other in the dining hall instead of eating.

When you were children that was fine, it was nothing a stern talking to couldn’t fix. As you grew older, the council began to take strict measures to ensure you two would only be together when absolutely necessary. They decided it was in both of your best interests to stay away from each other and the bond you two shared eventually dwindled. Instead of whispering while a Master was attempting to do their teaching, the two of you would barely exchange glances. You’d walk silently in a single file line to the dining hall, no longer bothering to take the heat for walking next to each other.

The whispering and laughing turned into polite nods and common greetings said in passing. You’d walk right by him and bow your head at him, he’d reciprocate with a fairly neutral expression gracing his features. You’d always feel his head turn to look back at you as you walked in opposite direction, he found himself often wishing he could call over his shoulder and tease you and tell you your form needed work or that your footwork was a mess like he used to when you were young.

You were 19 now. Anakin was 22. You’d barely looked at each other or spoken for longer than a few moments in years. The fear of going against the Councils wishes outweighed your nostalgia for the friendship you once shared. You wanted to be great and so did Anakin. So the two of you focused on becoming the people you’d both dreamed of being.

It wasn’t long until Anakin was knighted. The ceremony was filled with toasts and speeches. You sat with the small group of girls that you had become friendly with over the years and ate your meticulously prepared meal. Anakin sat next to Obi-Wan, along with the other Jedi Masters at the long table at the front of the room. You wished you could give him a hug, congratulate him, tell him he deserved the praise he was getting. He had grown so much you often had a hard time recognizing the little boy you once knew.

You did your fair share of filling out as well. Anakin didn’t let that go unnoticed as his eyes would trail over you when you’d find yourselves in a shared space. When he thought you weren’t looking his eyes would take in every inch of you but you could feel him. You felt every movement of his eyes on you and you could never bare it so you’d often excuse yourself.

That trend continued tonight and as you sat in the large dining hall you felt eyes looking over you. It was such a strong gaze you could practically feel it like fingers touching on the skin under your Jedi appointed uniform. You shivered as you placed your fork next to your plate. Your eyes darted over to Anakin who, to no surprise, was looking right at you. Your tongue darted out to soften your suddenly dry lips and you pressed them into a hint of a smile. He returned the small smile and looked back at Obi-Wan who was proudly speaking to him about their last mission together.

The feeling of his gaze made your stomach flip and you stood up, excusing yourself politely. The need to use the bathroom as a safe space to calm yourself grew within you. You walked through the rows of tables, still feeling a set of eyes on you, and felt a hand lightly grasp your arm and your head snapped to look down at a boy you had trained with once before smiling up at you from his chair. He had dark short hair and piercing green eyes.

“You look nice tonight.” He smiled at you and you raised an eyebrow. “I look the same as I always do.” You muttered, confused and still feeling eyes on you. The gaze harshened and you dropped your head, ignoring it. “Yeah but.. Your hair. You left it down. It’s nice.” He smiled again, he was handsome but this really was not your prerogative. You smiled politely at him and mumbled a thanks to get the interaction over with before scurrying to the bathroom.

Anakin looked between you and the boy as you two spoke, desperately trying to read lips, focus on your voices through the Force, anything to know what was going on. When you smiled he felt his hand tighten around the glass he was raising to his lips. There was a level of possessiveness that Anakin held on to when it came to you. Growing up you were his best friend. His favorite. His best girl. Now you were effectually strangers and it killed him a little every day when you’d curl your perfect lips into a shy smile at him, or wave your soft looking hand at him in passing. He didn’t act on it now when he saw the way the guys would look at you and talk to you but he sure as hell felt jealousy bubble up within him every time it happened. He placed the glass down a little harder than even he expected, his hands pushed against the table so he could stand up. He adjusted his robe as he stood and looked at Obi-Wan. “I’ll be right back.” He muttered as he stepped away from the commotion in the dining hall. He made sure to slip past the boy who had been speaking to you, standing tall and walking confidently. The quiet washed over him as the door of the dining hall closed behind him.

You were standing in the bathroom in front of one of the giant mirrors at the sinks. Your hand combed its way through the ends of your hair, as you tried to make the soft natural curls you had look more presentable. You sighed in frustration when they simply stayed the way they were. You pulled your Jedi robe down and tucked it further into your utility belt to make it look less lumpy from sitting down. The small amount of makeup you had attempted to put on looked alright but it made you mad regardless. Why couldn’t it just look perfect? You thought. You groaned and placed your hands on the corner of the counter, leaning toward your own reflection. You’d never cared about what you looked like before but something about that boys words made your mind go straight to over thinking. “So stupid.” You whispered to yourself.

You felt something, or somebody near you. The Force wasn’t hard to navigate when it was this quiet and your eyes darted to the reflection of the door behind you in the mirror. You watched the door crack open and a sandy blonde head peered in. Anakin pushed the rest of the door open and entered the bathroom, closing the door behind him. He made sure to lock it incase somebody came in and gave him shit for being in the women’s lavatory.

“What’re you doing in here?” You whispered, turning around to face him. You took a few steps toward him, only enough for your voice to travel to him without having to raise it. He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the beam next to him. His broad shoulders raised and dropped and he looked over you again. “Just wanted to check on you.” He spoke with a small smile on his lips. Maker, you could tackle him to the ground when he did that.

You took a deep breath and looked around the room as you thought of what to say next. “Why would you check on me?” Your eyebrow raised slightly. “Wanted to make sure that little creep didn’t come in here with you.” His words were laced with an emotion you weren’t familiar with and you were taken aback. “Little creep? What are you-“ Your head raised a bit as you realized who and what he was talking about. “Him? He’s just somebody I practiced with one time. I wouldn’t- I’ve never..” Your brain found it increasingly hard to find the right words as you watched Anakin. His strong arms were still crossed over his large chest and he tightened his jaw every time you stuttered.

With a prompt shake of his head he took a step forward, his tongue pushed against the front of his teeth as he smiled with an unbelieving expression. “You’ve never what?” He said, his voice was surprisingly venomous as he spoke to you, you hadn’t gotten a chance to realize how tall he’d gotten until he stepped closer and towered over you. “Done something like that.” Your eyes dropped to gaze at the floor as you muttered the words that he had forced out of you.

There was silence for a moment. His thumb and pointer finger slipped under your chin and grasped it gently to make you look up at him. His blue eyes were a bit darker than normal and your heart skipped a beat at the close proximity you were in now. “Never?” He asked, his interrogation was completely unexpected. You opened and closed your mouth and decided to nod your head instead of let yourself try to speak again. He continued to stare down at you, his eyes searching yours for even a hint of dishonesty. He never found it. “Still my best girl..” He mumbled and your eyebrows pushed together. You hadn’t heard him say that in years though now, it seemed to have a bit of a different meaning to it.

“You’ve grown so much, Y/N/N.” He whispered as his face neared yours. You gulped the access saliva in your mouth down as you responded. “You have too, Ani.” Your words came out weak, you didn’t have the same confidence you normally carried yourself with and it made Anakin smirk. Your soft voice saying the nickname he only allowed you to use made his length twitch in his pants ever so slightly. He hummed and it was almost inaudible. Something about being the only one to know you as well as he did ignited something within him.

“You’ve grown.. But you’ve never had anything special.. Have you?” He whispered. “Something that made you feel good..” His words wrapped around you like an electric blanket and his hand moved to cup your cheek while his thumb caressed it. Your breathing shook and your eyes widened at his words. “N-no.” You muttered through your labored breathing. You could sense how excited this was making him and it was making you feel like you could throw up from anticipation of his next moves. Your cheeks reddened and your ears burned as he looked between your eyes and your lips. “Nobody’s ever gotten to feel those pretty lips? Or hear what could fall from between them?” You gasped quietly at his words and shook your head, your eyes never left his. His thumb moved to trace your lips gently and your eyes rolled back for a fraction of a second. His expression seemed to get more and more intense, his own breathing became a bit heavier.

“And those hands… Nobody’s ever felt how soft and useful they can be?” His free hand traced a finger down your arm before grabbing your hand. Your head was spinning as you shook your head again and he laughed softly. “Can’t even talk.. So fucking innocent.” He growled into your ear and your breath caught in your throat loudly. He smiled at the reactions he was getting from you. He used his grasp on your hand to turn the both of you around so your back was against the wall and he pinned your hand above your head.

“Anakin..” You muttered, your face was bright red and your breath just couldn’t be caught. His warm body pressed up against yours and you whimpered involuntarily at the feeling. He smirked at the reaction and began to place the softest of kisses on your neck, jaw, cheeks, and corners of your mouth. You bit your lip and took deep breaths through your nose. “Please kiss me.” You whined and his head lifted, eyes shining at you. He seemed physically unable to wipe the cunning smile off his face as he pressed his lips against yours. They were hot and soft, causing you to practically melt into him.

It was deep and longing, the feeling behind the kiss. He was smothering you and you couldn’t breathe but it was all worth it. Small breaths were caught between kisses and he stopped to whisper against your lips. “Open..” And you did. You opened your mouth for him and he immediately sucked on your tongue. You gasped and your eyes snapped open to see his still fluttered closed as he tangled his muscle with yours through open mouthed kisses. Your eyes squeezed shut again when his free hand palmed your breast, pushing upward, grabbing it and repeating. His name left your lips and his hips bucked toward yours ever so gently.

“Master Anakin.” He groaned, correcting you against your lips and you complied. “Master Anakin..” You whispered as your head bounced back against the wall in pleasure and you kept it there because he immediately moved his lips down to your neck. He left bites and sucked gently, even blowing on where he left his saliva and you flinched harder causing your free hand to snap up and grab hold of his hair. Your legs squeezed together as you stood against the wall for some kind of release and he stuck his knee between your legs.

“That’s my job.” He growled against your neck. He pushed your pants down with aggression and you kicked them off your feet. He sat on his knees in front of you and grabbed onto your hips, his fingers squeezed into your ass and you moaned. Your legs felt shaky as he sat with his face mere inches away from your heat. You eyed him with wide, curious eyes. You’d never felt like this before. Your now unrestrained hands pushed his hair back from his face and he peered up at you as he slid a finger between your folds. You let out a sound comparable to a squeak at the new feeling and he smirked.

“So wet… All for me, hm?” He whispered as he slid a single finger into your tight hole. Your eyes squeezed shut and you let out a breathy whimper. He laughed when you weren’t able to respond, your innocent nature made him feel dirty and perverted. He was eating it up as he slid in and out of you slowly, getting you used to the feeling. He pushed himself against your legs to keep your knees from buckling when he felt them shake even more, his free hand reached up and fondled your tits and it doubled as a way to keep you standing. His thumb pressed against your clit and he could feel it pulsating, causing another chuckle to leave his swollen lips. “So fucking eager.” He said with his eyes staring deep into yours as he slid a second finger inside of you. A yelp escaped your lips and you squirmed while he pushed his thumb against your clit and fingered you with one hand and rolled your nipple between his fingers with his other hand. You clenched around his fingers and he shushed you gently.

“Breathe, just let me make you feel good. Relax..” He whispered as he kept a slow and steady pace. You took a few breaths through gritted teeth and it made the pleasure feel all that much better as you relaxed around him. “That’s my girl.” He cooed as he circled his thumb around your clit and curved his fingers toward him causing him to push against the sensitive top wall of your pussy. A gasp escaped and you whined his name as he left kisses all over your hip bones. The warmth sent shivers down your back. Anakin removed his thumb when your eyes squeezed shut and you felt something warm and wet replace it on your clit. A louder gasp escaped your lips when you opened your eyes and saw his mouth on your clit and one of your hands gripped his hair tighter while the other flew toward your mouth in shock at the noise you made. He groaned at the feeling of you pulling his hair and the vibrations made another moan leave your mouth, barricaded by your hand.

“No need to be quiet. Nobody’s coming here..” He whispered and you remember he’d locked the door. You dropped your other hand back into his hair as he lapped away at your clit. The taste made him want to absolutely devour you and he tried his best to get as close as he could to doing so. His fingers moved quicker when he felt you begin to clench again and his tongue went from soft, flat licking to quick, pointed flicking.

“Such a pretty pussy..” He whispered into you. You felt something begin to tighten in your stomach and your back arched, causing you to grind on his face and your cheeks reddened when you realized how good it felt. You swung your hips back and forth desperately and whined his name out as you grinded on his face while he licked and finger fucked you. He smiled when he realized you’d never have known you liked to grind on his face without him, it filled him with pride and he felt his cock press against the zipper of his pants making them feel much tighter now.

One last flick of his tongue and curl of his fingers sent you spiraling over the edge, gasping for air and moaning.

“Oh gods, Master.” You exclaimed with a shaky voice between your moans as your body shook with ecstasy. You’d never felt like this before, your eyes screwed shut as you began to see little dots collect in your vision and you felt a little bit of fluid come out of your pussy, soaking his chin and fingers. He growled at the feeling and pulled his fingers out. He reached his hand to your lips as he stood up in front of you and you opened your mouth willingly. “Such a good girl for me.” He whispered as your eyes rolled back at the taste of yourself on him. When you opened your eyes again after collecting yourself you found his pants were already on the floor and he was working on the tedious layers on his top half. He threw his clothes to the side and caged you in against the wall with a grunt. You felt something long raise up between your legs and hit your pussy and you gasped. Your curious gaze found the culprit and you swore your eyes bulged out of your head.

His hands found their way to your thighs and he pulled on them, you jumped up and wrapped your legs around his hips and your arms swung around his neck, squeezing as if you’d fall if you let go. He chuckled. “I’m not gonna drop you.” He said in the cocky tone you knew and adored. Your arms loosened and your stomach flipped when you realized it was his strong arms keeping you levitating in front of him. Another groan escaped his lips at the flustered look on your face and you looked at him through your lashes with dazed, drooped eyes. He smirked and removed one hand to pump his cock as it teased your entrance. How could something that big fit inside of me? You thought to yourself as you labored your breathing. He sensed your nerves.

“You’ll be okay. You can take this, I know you can. You’re my best girl.” He cooed into your ear as you felt his tip push against your virgin hole. You bit on your lip and immediately felt his lips push against you gently. You let go and reciprocated the gentle kiss as he soaked himself in your juices for a moment and pushed the head in. You sucked in a sharp breath and your eyes stung. He looked at you. “Just like before, Y/N/N. Relax… You’re such a good girl.. You can take it.” He groaned between his own words at the feeling of your pussy around his cock. You took a few deep breaths as he slowly sheathed himself into you, his hip bones hit yours and he stopped to let you adjust.

“Good girl.. So fucking tight.” He whispered again, encouraging you to relax and you did. You let out a few more deep, shaky breaths and nodded to him, words weren’t exactly a possibility right now. He smiled and pushed his lips against yours to distract you a bit before he started to move slowly. In and out. In and out. His kisses migrated down your chin to your neck and you pushed your head against the wall. Your chest was rising and falling quicker and quicker as the discomfort began to feel like pleasure. You clenched a bit and moaned when it began to feel better, Anakin took that as his signal to pick up the pace. He stroked the inside of your pussy quicker and quicker, moving all the way to his head before pushing back into you. His grip on your hips tightened and he moaned against your neck. Your hands reached for his hair again, he seemed to enjoy when you did that and it gave you something to tether you to this plane of existence.

“You’re doing such a good job at taking my cock.” He moaned and your eyes rolled back into your head again. Your jaw went slack when he adjusted you to be a bit higher and his dick slid against your g-spot. The noises you were emitting were uncontrollable now. Gasps, whimpers and moans all fell through with the occasional, “Oh Master..” thrown in.

“So pretty with my cock in you… Nobody knows you like I do… They never will.” He grunted as he began to thrust with more aggression and desperation than before. He wanted to feel every inch of you, every crevice and every ridge. Your brain mustered up the power to respond. “They never will… I only want you.. I always have.” Your words came out in between gasps. You let out another moan and squirmed when his fingers dig further into the soft skin on your hips.

His free hand moved one of your hands from his hair to your tits and he leaned back to watch you palm and pinch away at them. His eyes darkened and his teeth gnawed down on his lower lip as he watched. The sight itself was enough to make a man cum in his pants. He watched you play and squirm while you moaned his name and he began to fuck you faster. You almost screamed at the feeling, your voice echoed through the bathroom and you didn’t care at all.

You felt a familiar feeling build up in you and you pulled your other hand from his hair to rub your clit the same way he’d shown you. “Look at you.. Doing what I taught you.” He groaned as he continued his rampage on your pussy. The feeling of both your clit and hole being ravaged caused you to arch your back again and this time he hit a spot he hadn’t before. “Oh fuck.” You exclaimed as you rubbed away at your swollen set of nerve endings quicker, desperately trying to pull the orgasm out. He leaned in and began to kiss you with an open mouth, tongues fought and you could taste the sweat from his upper lip. You clenched around his cock as you let out another orgasm and your convulsing pussy sent him over the edge. His strokes got sloppy and his breath came out of his nose in short, repetitive bursts. He soaked your walls with his milk and you moaned at the feeling of your mixed liquids trickling down to your thigh as he slowed down again.

He let your legs fall and his hands moved to your waist as he slipped out of you and your feet hit the ground as a way of steadying you. Your vision was slightly blurred as you both attempted to catch your breath. His forehead leaned against yours and his hot breath hit your lips. He leaned in for another kiss and this one was gentle and sweet. You moaned softly into it. “So much better than I’d hoped.” He whispered into your mouth and a blush formed on your cheeks again. He handed your clothes to you and you put them on shakily. When you were both dressed he held you close to him, hands gripping your waist with a gentleness that hadn’t been there when he was fucking you.

“They won’t keep us apart again.” He said softly, staring into your eyes and you smiled. “Never.” You responded and placed another kiss on his lips. He smiled into it and brought you closer by the small of your back before pulling away. “They’re probably wondering where we went.” He chuckled and you smiled in response. He gave you one last kiss on your nose before unlocking the door and slipping out of the bathroom. You waited a few minutes, fixing your hair and now non-existent makeup before following his steps toward the dining hall.

The party had gone smoothly and you didn’t catch a break from the girls you were sitting with about being gone so long. You laughed and brushed them off. The three of you walked towards your own dormitories after taking showers and getting ready for bed. “Goodnight, ladies.” You spoke as you closed your door and got comfortable in your bed. You were giddy and your body felt electric as your mind ran through the memories of the night. It hadn’t been more than an hour before you heard your door open and your head turned towards the light creeping in. Anakin slipped in and shut your door behind him, a smirk graced his face as shock blanketed yours.

“Gods, I missed that pretty face.” He spoke as he approached you. You sat up and smiled up at him. It was going to be a long night.

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mrs-kmikaelson · 8 months

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Our Song and Dance³

Pairing: Finnick Odair x reader Summary: You'd grown used to dancing the same dance over and over again, the victor's dance, but then you start dancing with Finnick Odair and you feel things you never thought you'd feel. So you let yourself enjoy the dance, even though you knew that every song inevitably came to an end. Warnings: long, exploitation of minors, mentions of forced prostitution, suicidal thoughts, implied torture, violence, complicated relationships, complex mental health issues, and i involve finnick more in everything Words: 8.1K

Masterlist | Part 4

a/n: switching it up, so this part is from finnick's pov. it's basically mockingjay one, then i'll do one more part for mockingjay 2. ly guys!

Finnick Odair was not sure that love existed. Or, at least he wasn’t. He could barely remember what his parents looked like, let alone if they loved each other. But he had Mags; she proved to him that love existed because he loved her. It was the falling in love that he was unsure about.

And then he met Annie Cresta and it was like he suddenly understood. Yes, this was what the poets were talking about. This was love.

But they couldn’t be together.

He was being sold off all the time, taking countless visits to the Capitol. He couldn’t endanger her like that, let her get involved in the fucked up world he lived in. So he didn’t. He loved her from afar, knowing they’d never really be together.

He thought it’d end there, but then one night, he saw you. Maybe it was the alcohol or maybe it was all his own will, but he walked up to you. He’d seen you at these events before, back home, and on TV, but standing there so close to you, it was like it was just hitting him how beautiful you were.

You were a victor, too. But he realized just how alike you were when he watched as you left a hotel room, in the same state as him. After that, it was you who took a chance on him until he almost looked forward to coming to the Capitol, just to see you.

You weren’t Annie. You didn’t remind him of what poets had written. No, he couldn’t describe you or what you meant to him in just words. What he grew to feel for you over time wasn’t akin to anything he’d ever read. This was so much more than that.

He loved Annie, he always would, but being with you made him realize what it was like to be in love.

But he never told you this, never said any of it out loud out of fear that he’d lose you.

Now he lost you, anyway.

The doors to his hospital room opened. He knew it was Katniss, but he didn’t say anything, staring right at the ground in front of him.

If he looked hard enough, he could see your face.

“Finnick.”

He looked up from his feet, but still didn’t look at her. He already knew what she looked like, and it wasn’t much better than him.

She was mad at him. She’d barely spoken to him since they got to 13, but he knew that she couldn’t have been much more mad at him than he already was at himself.

His voice was quiet when he spoke. “I wanted to go back for them—for Peeta, and Johanna, and Y/N… but I- I couldn’t move.” He twiddled his fingers with the rope in his hands, wishing it was your hand he was holding, but he wasn’t. You weren’t there. He left you.

He finally looked up at Katniss. She looked both emotionless and so emotional at the same time, lifeless but alive. “I- I love her, y’know?” He looked back down at the knot he was tying, sniffling involuntarily.

He was trying to keep it together, but without you, that was like trying to fix a broken glass without any glue.

You were the glue that held him together.

And now the Capitol had you.

The words left his lips without much thought. “I wish she was dead.” He chose to stare at a spot on the ground instead of looking at Katniss’ reaction. His chest tightened. “I wish they were all dead and we were, too.”

If they had died, then at least they wouldn’t have been going through this, having to live but feeling so dead, anyway.

Katniss was silent until he eventually heard her leave the room.

There were words she didn’t say that still floated around the room, agreement that she didn’t voice. She was just as broken as him, holding on for dear life. He hoped that she’d keep holding on.

He had to have hope. He had to have hope that he’d see you again, that this wasn’t all for nothing, that they could build a better world that you could both live in. He needed to hope.

That hope was the only thing that kept him holding on, too.

He was in the cafeteria, sitting next to Katniss and Annie when it happened. The fanfare started playing, Caesar Flickerman’s face coming to the screen. He scoffed, tuning out and looking back down at the food on his plate, swishing it around. Recently, it had been hard for him to work up an appetite.

He looked back up when Katniss grabbed his hand, hers trembling. He soon realized why.

It was Peeta, on the Capitol TV.

Katniss got up, walking to the TV and standing right in front of it, shocked. He would’ve gotten up and followed her, tried to console her, but it was as if he was paralyzed.

Peeta was on the TV.

And you were nowhere in sight.

He heard the conversation that had everyone on the edge of their seat through muffled ears. Peeta didn’t look exactly like himself, but he still looked like the golden boy Panem fell in love with. It was so obvious that the Capitol was using him, playing him like a puppet, but what confused him was that they were using him and not the much more powerful weapon they had in their arsenal.

You were the Princess of Panem. Plutarch and Coin knew that; that’s why they wanted you. Katniss could light a fire, but if they also had you, then together you could cause an explosion. If the Capitol wanted to sway public opinion, why wouldn’t they just use you, someone who the people trusted and adored?

Suddenly, his stomach fell.

If they weren’t using you, then it was because you weren’t in a condition to be shown to the public.

He felt a hand on his, turning his head to see it was Annie, looking at him with a sympathetic expression. As if she could hear his thoughts, the smallest of sad smiles grew on her lips. “It’s gonna be okay, Finnick,” she whispered. “Everything’s going to be okay.”

How the tables had turned. Now it was her assuring him.

In that moment, he understood Annie like never before.

Because he wasn’t so sure she was right.

After Peeta’s interview, Finnick didn’t leave his room much. He’d lie in bed and stare up at the ceiling, pretending that you were there with him. He could withstand the silence if he had you by his side.

But now, the silence was deafening.

Sometimes, he didn’t hear a thing. Other times, your voice would fill the gaps, memories of you flashing before his eyes like a movie. Sometimes, they weren’t memories at all. Sometimes, he imagined a different life for you where you were both happy, in love.

And, sometimes, he imagined what they could’ve been doing to you in the Capitol.

Whenever these awake-nightmares got too vivid, he’d find Katniss and sit with her, knowing she must have been going through the same thing. It was what you would’ve done, what you did with him and Johanna.

You wouldn’t have wanted them to suffer alone.

The next time he was around everyone else, it was per Coin’s request. She announced to them all that Katniss agreed to be The Mockingjay and that, in return, she’d look for an opportunity to extract you, the victors that had been taken.

Katniss moved next to him. “Finnick, I made the deal for Y/N, too.”

It was like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. Hope—this was hope.

“Good,” he said. For the first time since he left the arena, he smiled. “That’s good, Katniss.” A small chuckle left him.

Maybe he’d get a chance to make those dreams of his a reality.

With a newfound ardour, Finnick threw himself back into the ring instead of avoiding the fight like he had been, sitting in on meetings and doing whatever he could to make this work. He would see you again; he’d make sure of it.

He went with the propo team to 8, watching as the Girl on Fire did exactly what they’d all been waiting for her to do. He wasn’t the only one that was hopeful—so were people in the districts, the people in 13.

They played her propo at the next assembly. The crowd cheered, but as he stood with The Mockingjay herself on the sidelines, she didn’t look so cheerful. Finnick understood this, he understood it well, but he couldn’t afford to think like that with your life hanging in the balance.

She shouldn’t have to either, he thought.

He leaned closer to her, quizzing, “You don’t like hearing a fight song at a funeral, huh?” She looked up at him almost in the same way she did when he made that joke in the arena. At the memory of your response, a small smile arose on his face. “The more people on our side, the closer we are to Peeta and Y/N,” he reminded her.

She nodded, muttering, “Yeah,” and then turning back to the crowd. She didn’t look so convinced, but he left it there, knowing she was coping with this in her own way.

If Katniss loved Peeta even half as much as he loved you, then he’d let her do whatever she felt comfortable with.

But at the end of the day, it was love that kept them both going.

The next time Peeta was on TV, it was a wake up call for everyone. He didn’t look so refined anymore, so clean. There were bags under his eyes. He looked like he hadn’t slept or eaten in days.

If this was what Peeta looked like and they still had him on TV, then what about you?

A bile rose in his throat. He ran to the nearest trash can and threw up whatever they served that morning for breakfast, your face flashing underneath his eyelids. You weren’t smiling like in the dreams he had, but screaming.

He knew you weren’t dead, that the Capitol wouldn’t kill you, but when he pictured your face, you didn’t look so alive.

Oh, he wished he could’ve made you smile more. But in the world you lived in, sometimes it was too hard to even do that.

That’s why we’re doing this, he reminded himself. We’re trying to build a better world. But there were no words that Coin could say to shake the guilt he felt, guilt for leaving you, guilt for being the reason this happened to you. There was no band-aid he could put over this wound, no pills that could kill this pain.

But he had to push through it, and he couldn’t do that by sitting in his room by himself; every time he closed his eyes, he saw you. So he went to Katniss’ room, finding her in a position so similar to his own.

That was the man she loved on TV, even if she hadn’t come to terms with her feelings. She must have been just as guilty as him, if not more so. Finnick could remember a time when he rejected his feelings for you, too, scared of caring for somebody, scared of this happening.

He went through the Hunger Games and the Quarter Quell, being sold when he was only sixteen, but falling in love with you was the scariest thing he’d ever experienced.

If that’s how Katniss felt, then he didn’t want her to be alone, not when she reminded him so much of you.

So he sat next to her in silence, letting all of the words he wanted to say hang in the air, hoping that she heard them. They sat there wordlessly until Gale came in, telling them it was time to go, that they were going to 12.

It was only when he was about to leave that he finally spoke, deciding that these were words he had to make sure that she heard, words that he needed to hear, too.

“We’re gonna get them back, Katniss.”

She looked at him, forming somewhat of a smile and nodding. After staring at her for a few seconds, he left the room, going to get ready.

She didn’t know it, but the entire hovercraft ride on the way to 12, he repeated those same exact words to himself over and over again.

We’re gonna get them back.

While nothing could really ease Finnick’s worries, seeing the people fight back certainly helped. The revolution was picking up traction. The videos they shot in 12 had moved people so much that they were willing to put themselves at risk, just out of hope for a better Panem.

If they could do that, then he could, too.

He wondered if you knew about any of this, if you were even aware of what was happening or if the Capitol was just keeping you in the dark. Did you know? Did you hear Katniss sing?

Did it remind you of him the same way it reminded him of you?

He had so many questions, and so little answers.

Rebels in district 5 bombed a hydroelectric dam, cutting power in the Capitol. Not long after, Peeta Mellark was back on TV, talking about it. He no longer even looked like himself. He didn’t look like a victor, but like someone who had lost.

But Finnick supposed that was what a victor was.

Beetee managed to get through the Capitol’s firewall, cutting Peeta off with Katniss’ propo. They watched as tears filled his eyes on screen.

That was the first time he looked like himself.

Are you, are you comin’ to the tree?

He faltered. “Katniss?”

Finnick watched as Katniss got closer to the screen, shaking her head. She saw it, too. She saw the man that went into that arena with them.

But then, like a victor would, his mask went back up so quickly.

“The attack on the dam was a callous and inhuman act of destruction-”

Where a dead man called out for his love to flee.

Peeta inhaled shakily, his lips so slightly quivering. “Think about it,” he said. “How will this end? What will be left?” Finnick walked closer to the screen, like he was caught in a trance. Peeta’s previously calm façade had broken and was replaced with someone who looked stricken by panic. “No one can survive this. No one is safe now. Not here in the Capitol.” He shook his head. “Not in any of the districts.”

He stopped, looking right into the camera as if he was staring into Katniss’ eyes. He may not have known it, but he was.

“They’re coming, Katniss. They’re gonna kill everyone.” They heard quick footsteps behind the camera as Peeta rushed to get his words out. “And in district 13 you’ll be dead by morning-”

Then the camera cut out.

Finnick didn’t know what to say, glancing over at Katniss to see her cupping her mouth in shock.

Haymitch was much more calm. With Katniss spinning out, he had to be. “He’s warning us. That was a warning.” Behind him, Boggs said something in agreement.

Katniss looked to have gotten over her shock, frantically turning and fretting, “We have to get him out before they kill him.” She was ignored.

What about you? he wondered. Where did this leave you? But right now, what they needed to worry about was where it left them.

Otherwise, you wouldn’t have anything to come home to.

“It’s time for an air raid drill.” Seconds after Coin spoke, an alarm went off. Everyone that’d been fixed to their spot in the room was up, like they’d been preparing for this for a lifetime, and from what he heard, they had been.

Katniss went running, searching for her sister while he went looking for Annie and Mags, grabbing them and descending down the stairwell as soon as he saw them. Adrenaline pumped through his veins, his mind blank, just as it was in the arena.

If he let his thoughts take control, then he’d lose it, and he couldn’t do that right now. He couldn’t slip up right now with what was at stake.

It was your life on the line.

He couldn’t lose you.

But a part of him knew that, the second you were in Snow’s hands, the you that he knew was lost forever.

Down in the bunker, Finnick sat on the bottom bunk with Mags off resting by herself while Annie had fallen asleep at the top. Sometimes, with her episodes, it was easy to forget that she was a victor, too, that she had danced the same dance you had. But she was, and she was dancing like never before.

He could tell that she had been trying hard to keep it together, but with all of the panic and the noise, it was hard. She fell asleep easily.

Although the bunker was pretty quiet, his thoughts were still so loud. The last time he saw you played out in his head. He could still taste your lips on his, still feel your soft skin, still see your beautiful eyes.

I’ll see you at midnight?

Yeah, I’ll see you at midnight.

But he didn’t. He never saw you again. He would’ve never let you go if he’d known then what’d happen. He would’ve held you longer, kissed you longer. He would’ve told you he loved you.

If he’d known this’d happen, he would’ve told you long before The Games. The truth was, he couldn’t pinpoint exactly when he fell in love with you. It had always been Annie for him, and you were just there.

But that was exactly it. You were there. You were always there.

Maybe he started falling for you after the first time you slept together. Maybe it was after your fifth time mentoring together. Maybe it was after the time he had a nightmare and you let him hold you. Maybe it was after you smiled, and really smiled, for the first time since you decided to start pretending to be a couple. He couldn’t be sure, but somewhere along the way, you became so much more to him than just Y/N Y/L/N, Princess of Panem and victor of the 67th Hunger Games.

You became the person he wanted to spend the rest of his life with.

He just wished he could’ve told you that.

He was pulled out of his thoughts when someone walked up to him. “Hey.” He looked up, seeing Katniss. She looked beat, her voice quiet. “Can I sit?”

He nodded, moving over so she could sit next to him. She had her family down here, that’s why he hadn’t gone over to her, but he understood why she was coming to him. After going through what they went through, it was easier to be around people who went through the same thing, who were going through the same thing.

Like she was reading his mind, she asked, “Are you thinking about her?”

There wasn’t any need for further explanation. Truthfully, he answered, “Yeah,” looking down at the ground. Every moment he had that wasn’t dedicated to this revolution was spent thinking about you.

After a second, she spoke up again. “Snow’s using her to punish you. He’s taunting us with them.” She scoffed a little. “I didn’t understand that until just now watching that stupid cat.”

She was right. This wasn’t just about propaganda. This was about Snow’s little puppets misbehaving.

So now he was showing them that, even in 13, he still owned them. He still owned Finnick. He still owned Katniss. He still owned Johanna. He still owned Peeta. And he still owned you.

He was using you against him because he knew how much you meant to him, the same way he knew how much Peeta meant to Katniss, even if she didn’t see that herself.

Finnick sighed, debating on whether or not he should say what he was thinking or keep it to himself before deciding that he had held enough in, that holding his thoughts in had never done him any good. So he turned to Katniss and started, “I- Y/N and I, we hadn’t met until after she won her Games. We weren’t really friends, at first, but rumours start fast in the Capitol, especially when ‘royalty’ is involved.” He humourlessly chuckled. “People were saying that we were dating, and so she- she thought the best thing for us to do was to let them believe it, let them have their love story. The alternative, two people coping together- that was a lot darker than what the Capitol could handle.”

She tilted her head, furrowing her brows. He watched as she put it all together. “Wait, are you saying that…”

He nodded. “Yes. It was fake. Our love story was just that: a story.” Surprise was painted all over her face.

“But… you told me that you love her.”

A ghost of a smile came to his face. “I do. I love her. It wasn’t like that at first, but over time, I fell for her, Katniss.” He saw a look pass over her face: understanding. What he was describing wasn’t just you and him; it was her and Peeta. “Y/N and I, we learned how to play the game. If anyone could spot a fake relationship, it was us. After your first Games, we thought your whole romance was an act. We expected you to continue that strategy. But it wasn’t until Peeta’s heart stopped and he nearly died that… I knew I’d misjudged you. You love him.”

Katniss looked away, like what he was saying was something she’d never even considered. It was so clear to everyone that she loved him, everyone but herself.

“I’m not saying in what way,” he added, understanding her feelings so well because he’d right where she was. “Maybe you don’t even know yourself. But anyone paying attention can see it.” He maintained his stare, even as she looked away.

With the life they lived, you didn’t want to give yourself to love, to admit that to yourself, to allow yourself to be vulnerable. But you could only hide a love so strong for so long.

She swallowed, gaze still aimed at the floor. “How do you live with it?”

You’re asking the wrong person, he thought, but that wasn’t an acceptable answer. That wasn’t the answer she was looking for. Right now, Katniss was lost; he needed to point her in the right direction.

Even if he still had trouble doing that for himself.

He paused for a moment, searching for the right words to say. “I drag myself outta nightmares and there’s no relief in waking up,” he confessed. “But I- sometimes, when I’m awake, I let myself dream about her.” Finally, she looked over to him. “I dream that, one day, when this is all over, we’re living in a better world, happy.” The corners of his lips quirked up at the thought. “It’s hope, Katniss. That’s how I live with it.”

Katniss eyes were dull, red, tired, but even in the darkness of the bunker, he was able to see a tiny spark light up in her eyes.

Hope.

They’d fallen asleep in the bunker along with everyone else until Finnick woke up to Boggs shaking him, telling him that they had to go. Coin wanted Katniss to get in front of the camera, tell Panem that they were still standing after the attack.

But, as soon as they stepped outside, he watched her fall apart.

Roses.

A rose?

They’re a Capitol favourite.

You hated roses. Looking at them himself, he couldn’t even blame Katniss. He felt sick, too.

She couldn’t do it. She was almost hysterical, so of course Boggs let her go. They couldn’t put her on TV when she was like this. But they also didn’t have time to wait.

With Katniss gone, Haymitch and Boggs pulled him aside to a briefing room, getting started on a new plan.

“Okay, what are we doing?”

They gave each other a look, much like the look Plutarch and Haymitch traded right after the Quell, like they knew something he didn’t, like they were getting ready for him to explode.

“Finnick, the dam that went down in district 5 cut power in most of the Capitol,” Haymitch started. “Their defences are down—Beetee’s gonna be able to get in now.”

His brows furrowed. He already knew that.

Sensing his confusion, Boggs cut in, “We’ve gotten word that the victors are in the Tribute Centre.”

Suddenly, it was like his heart stopped.

You were coming home.

He echoed his thoughts. “You’re going to get them?”

“Yes, I’ll be leading the mission-”

“Well, I’m coming.” Again, they both shared a look, like they were expecting him to say that, and why wouldn’t they? You were his girlfriend; of course, he wanted to be there to save you.

“Finnick-”

He cut Boggs off a second time, repeating himself, “I am coming with you.”

“I’m afraid I can’t let you do that.”

He scoffed. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

“Finnick-”

“If you’re going to get Y/N, then I’m coming with you-”

“You are too valuable to this revolution for them to let you go,” Haymitch said, but Finnick really couldn’t give a damn about whatever reason they threw at him. You were all he could think about.

“I’m not just gonna sit here and do nothing while they’re being rescued,” he retaliated. For over a month, sitting around and doing nothing was practically all he’d been doing, fantasizing about you, unknowing of when he’d see you again or if he’d ever see you again, trying to imagine what you could’ve been going through.

He couldn’t just stand by while you were in a live or die situation.

If you died- no, he cut his thoughts off, refusing to finish the sentence.

You couldn’t die.

Haymitch sighed, glancing away before looking back at him. His eyes were always hard, but at that moment, Finnick saw flashes of sympathy. “You won’t be doing nothing.”

His eyes slightly narrowed. “What do you mean?”

The two shared another look before he told him, “Katniss can’t record right now. But you can.”

Another scoff left his lips, an incredulous look on his face as his voice was laced with sarcasm. “You want me to film a propo while you save Y/N?”

Haymitch didn’t respond right away, just staring at him like he was trying to properly articulate his words. The way he was looking at him unnerved him, like whatever he was gonna say could shatter him into a million pieces.

“Not a propo, Finnick,” he finally said, hesitation evident in his tone. “It’s a lot more than that.”

And, as Haymitch explained to him what they wanted him to do, Finnick learned just how much more that was.

Finnick Odair. That was a name synonymous with royalty, luxury, desire. Before he even met you, that was the name he’d built for himself—or, rather, the name that was thrusted into his arms.

A sex symbol.

When you won your Games, he could remember listening to the Capitol chatter. Stunning, refined, intelligent: a princess. You both already had so much in common, both from the same district, both so young when you won, but suddenly, as he watched you leave that hotel room that night in the Capitol, he realized that you had much more in common than he thought.

You were one and the same.

Those nights you spent together in the Capitol, out in the cold, you were silent. And then, even as you spoke to big Capitol fishes and gave speeches, you were still silent then, too, never speaking out about the injustices you’d been faced with.

Now, Finnick stood outside in the darkness, cold, but this time, you weren’t next to him. You weren’t next to him, and that was because Snow took you.

So he wasn’t going to stay silent anymore.

You deserved better than that.

He glanced around, almost as if he was trying to tell if his surroundings were real, if he was really doing this.

He looked back when Cressida called his name, a careful look on her face. “Yeah,” he said, conveying he was okay without saying it, even if he really wasn’t.

She didn’t look very convinced, but she still responded, “Okay.” She paused. “Take your time. Just remember to keep talking and don’t stop.”

He lightly nodded, looking up in front of him, seeing his breath in the air. For a moment, he was silent, but that moment didn’t last long.

He had been silent for far too long already.

“This is Finnick Odair. Winner of the 65th Hunger Games,” he introduced himself, even though he knew that anyone watching must have recognized him right away. “And I’m coming to you from district 13, alive and well. We’ve survived an assault from the Capitol,” he recited. “But I’m not here to give you recent news.”

What he was going to tell them was much more than news about this rebellion. What he would reveal was about a war that’d started long before this rebellion ever did.

“I come with something much more valuable.”

I haven’t dealt in anything as common as money in years.

Well, then how do people pay for the pleasure of your company?

“The truth. The truth about being a victor, about being royalty.” Bitterness seeped through his tone. “Not the myths about a life of luxury. Not the lie about glory for your homeland.” He looked straight at the camera. “You can survive the arena. But the moment you leave, you’re a slave.”

We will never be free, Y/N.

He took in a breath before he spoke his next words, knowing that they held power stronger than a weapon. He may as well have been pointing the gun at his own head. But if he had to get burned to burn down the Capitol, then he would do it. He would do it a thousand times over.

And so would you.

“President Snow used to sell me. Or my body, at least. I wasn’t the only one.” Your face flashed in his mind. “If a victor is considered desirable, the President gives them as a reward or allows people to buy them. If you refuse, he kills someone you love.” Johanna.

It’s not fair. He killed her family. She said no, and he killed her family.

I know. It’s not fair, I know.

It was never fair. No riches or glory could ever be enough to compensate for that.

“To make themselves feel better, my patrons would make presents of money or jewelry. But I found a much more valuable form of payment.” The corners of his lips upturned slightly to form a small, humourless smile. “Secrets.”

The secrets he knew had the power to rip apart the Capitol’s so called “peace” at the seams. For him, for Katniss, for Johanna, for Peeta, for Annie, for you—this peace had fallen apart ages ago.

Katniss was forced to become the voice of thousands when she could barely do that for herself. Johanna turned to rage. Peeta turned to charm. Annie lost her mind. And you… what about you?

It was about time that this peace was destroyed. It was about time that people understood exactly what victors really lost. And that Panem’s monsters weren’t hiding under the bed.

They were sitting on thrones.

“See, I know all the depravity, the deceit, and the cruelty of the Capitol’s pampered elite. But the biggest secrets are about our good President, Coriolanus Snow.” The biggest monster of them all. “Such a young man when he rose to power. Such a clever one to keep it. How, you may ask, did he do it?” He paused, looking right at the camera as if he was looking right into Snow’s eyes.

He hoped he was watching.

He hoped he was watching as they burned the Capitol to the ground.

“One word.” He lit the match. “Poison.” And then he dropped it.

“He stopped every mutiny before it even started. There are so many mysterious deaths to adversaries. Even to allies who were threats.” He could remember being at one of those dinners, watching a man fall onto his plate, his life over so quickly.

Once you were on the playing board, it didn’t matter how powerful you were. To Snow, you were all just pawns that he could knock off the board easily.

Not anymore.

“Snow would drink from the same cup to deflect suspicion. But… antidotes don’t always work, which is why he wears roses that reek of perfume. Help cover the scent of blood from sores in his mouth that will never heal.”

When Finnick learned this, he could remember the feeling he had, the satisfaction in knowing that a man who had spilled so much blood was bleeding himself. It was karmic.

How ironic was that?

“But he can’t hide the scent of who he really is,” he continued, remembering Cressida’s words. Don’t stop. “He kills without mercy. He rules with deception and fear. His weapon of choice is the only thing suited to such a man. Poison.” He scoffed.

“The perfect weapon for a snake.”

Moments after Finnick’s last words, they were off the air. Cressida’s hand went to her ear, a dark look passing over her face. The Capitol air defence system’s coming back online, she said, and she didn’t get to say much else before he went running inside.

Much like every other day he’d spent in 13, your face came to his mind, but this time was different. This time, they went in to save you.

What if they couldn’t?

No, they had to bring you back- they had to.

He ran and ran until he got to ops, seeing Katniss crying in Haymitch’s arms. As soon as she saw him, she latched onto him and he reciprocated her hug tightly. He had to hold on. He had to.

He wouldn’t survive the fall if he let go.

He knows, he knows they’re in the Tribute Centre, she cried, and then for the second time that day, his heart stopped. He knew. Snow knew about the rescue mission.

His ears rang, eyes going blurry. And then things got a little blurry after that, too. Eventually, he ended up back in his room by himself. He didn’t know how he got there, but he did. All he could hear was your voices in his head.

No, you are coming home-

Finni-

We are both coming come. We are both coming home, Y/N, I swear.

He was supposed to protect you. He promised. He promised you that you would both make it home. But now where were you? You weren’t with him.

You never came home.

At one point, Annie came in, trying to be of some consolation, but she ended up leaving, unable to get through to him. He couldn’t hear her over your conversations that replayed in his head on a loop.

I told you. I’m not letting you die.

A tear raced down his cheek. He knew that you were maybe still alive, that you still had a chance, but that didn’t matter. It was never supposed to get to this point. He was never supposed to let it get to this point, a point where you could be dead.

He was supposed to bring you home.

Yeah, I’ll see you at midnight.

The doors suddenly slid open and Katniss walked in, breaking him out of his spell. He wiped the tears that’d fallen, clearing his throat. “Is there any news?”

Solemnly, she shook her head. “No.” He sighed as she sat down next to him, a big exhale leaving her lips, too. Both of them had passed the point of exhaustion, but it wasn’t like they could rest. Finnick wasn’t sure that he could sleep if he tried.

With this song playing so loudly, how could he?

Katniss was dancing the same dance as him, fighting the same battles. The man she loved was out there, too. She must have been just as scared as him.

They sat in silence for a while until she broke it, her voice raspy and just above a whisper. “Finnick?”

He turned to see her looking down at the ground. “Yeah?”

“I-” she stammered. It was only when she looked up at him that he saw the look in her eyes and knew why she was so nervous.

He shook his head. “It’s fine-”

She scoffed. “No, it’s not- it’s not fine-”

“Katniss-”

She cut him off. “I’m sorry.” Her words made him swallow. He knew she was going to speak them, but for some reason, hearing them was so different, surreal. She exhaled again, maintaining eye contact. “I am sorry.”

Finnick looked away. It wasn’t that he didn’t appreciate her apology, but he felt uncomfortable, looking into her eyes and just seeing the pure sorrow, pity. No, Katniss hadn’t been through exactly what he had, but at that moment, looking into her eyes was like looking into a mirror.

He couldn’t handle that right now, not when he stood at the top of the tallest mountain in the world and had such a long way to fall, everything to lose.

He nodded, accepting her apology without words. It wasn’t her fault. She didn’t know, she didn’t know him back then. She hadn’t been a victor long enough to know yet. If anything, he was glad that she didn’t get to know their world, that she wasn’t sucked up by the same darkness that took you and him.

He was glad that her and Peeta got time in the sun, even if it was only for a little while.

“Y/N…” At the sound of your name, he turned back to her, seeing her brows furrow, eyes glazed over. “When I met her, she said something to me.” Realization flashed across her face as she looked up. “Was- was she-”

He cut her off, “Yeah. Yeah, she was.” When he blinked, he saw you walking out of that hotel room, the look on your face. He’d never forget the way you looked at him that night.

May the odds be ever in your favour, darling.

“There were more,” he admitted. “Any victor that the Capitol found desirable was taken. Annie only couldn’t because of her madness. Johanna-” a humourless chuckle left his lips. “Johanna refused, and her entire family paid the price.” He look back to Katniss to see that her mouth had fallen open, a look of horror on her face. “You and Peeta were spared because you were together. Hell, that’s the reason Y/N and I got together, to escape all this. And now look where we are.”

With you on the verge of dying and Finnick on the verge of losing everything.

You. You were his everything.

And you didn’t even know it.

“I never told her, Katniss.” He was breathless, like the wind had been knocked out of him. He’d realized this before, knew that he made a mistake, but now it was like he was realizing that he may never get the chance to correct it. “I- I never told her I loved her.”

I’m your girlfriend now?

Oh, come on, Y/N. You can’t be serious right now.

I am so serious right now.

You had no idea. You had no idea that you were the reason he kept living, that you were the reason he kept going, even when it hurt so badly. He’d walk through Hell if he could get to Heaven and be with you.

But what if you never knew that?

What if you died without knowing how he felt about you?

Katniss grabbed onto his hand. He looked to see tears welling in her eyes. “You will,” she whispered. “Hope, Finnick. You need to have hope.”

“Hope,” he echoed. Just like how he saw your face, he was able to see a future just as easily. It was so clear. That better world that Coin went on about, the better world that they were fighting for… it was just within their grasp. He nodded, managing to form somewhat of a smile. “Hope.”

He needed that, now more than ever. If he ever wanted to make it to that better world, to live in it with you, then he had to have hope—hope for the both of you.

Katniss didn’t say much after that; neither did he. Both of them were reflecting on their own, still trying to process all the turmoil that the day had caused. He spent his time thinking of you, imagining that better world.

In a better world, you and Finnick would’ve never been sold. You would’ve met, and he would’ve gotten the chance to fall in love with you the right way. He wouldn’t have been so scared to tell you. You would’ve given back to the community, not taken kids to their deaths.

You would’ve been so happy together.

But that wasn’t the world you lived in.

In the world you lived in, you and Finnick were sold at ages far too young. First, you sold your souls by winning The Games, and then your bodies were sold to people who had no business touching you.

In the world you lived in, you were only brought together because of tragedy. You only dated to try and save yourselves from a much greater evil, not because you loved each other.

In the world you lived in, Finnick fell in love with you. But he couldn’t tell you that, not when his biggest fear became losing you.

But in the world you lived in, he lost you, anyway.

So he had to have hope that a better world was possible- he had to. Not having that was another blow he wasn’t sure he could take.

When imagining your better world turned into reminiscing over all that’d happened to you both, he cut his thoughts off. He couldn’t let himself stop and break down now, not when he was so close to the finish line, so close to you.

So he pulled rope from his pocket, tying the same knots over and over again, a habit he’d picked up at a young age. Focusing on the knots was able to take his mind off everything, allowing white noise to play instead of this song.

He didn’t want to hear it without you.

He did this until he lost track of time. It was only when the doors slid open again that he was broken out of his trance. Katniss perked up right away. It was Haymitch behind the door, looking as enthusiastic as Finnick had ever seen him. “They’re back.”

She gasped, getting up and running right away, but it was as if Finnick was cemented to his spot. They’re back.

You were back.

Just like that, he was shaken out of his shock, standing and quickly catching up with them.

They ran until they were in the medical area. As soon as they got there, he saw Johanna, ripping an IV out of her arm. Her hair was gone, shaven off, bruises all over her pale, pale face.

“Johanna,” Katniss muttered, but Finnick’s attention was elsewhere, eyes darting around the room, searching for you, heart racing.

And then he saw you.

His eyes went wide. “Y/N!” Without waiting another second, he ran to you. After over a month, here you were, right in front of him.

But it wasn’t so simple.

You flinched as his hands went to touch you, making him retract them right away. Your eyes didn’t look in his direction once.

Like you were scared of him.

At the thought, his heart clenched. It was only then that he noticed you were shaking, even as you were covered in blankets.

Your body was littered with cuts and bruises. You were pale, too, so clearly malnourished and sleep deprived. But it was your eyes that really got him. Your beautiful eyes no longer looked so lively. They looked empty.

You looked like a ghost.

“Y/N?” His voice cracked simultaneously with his heart. Why weren’t you looking at him? “Y/N-”

He was cut off. “Mr. Odair.” He turned to see a doctor standing on the other side of your bed, a hesitant look on her face and a look in her eyes that made a shiver go up spine. “Could I speak to you for a moment?”

He glanced back to you, seeing that you still weren’t looking at him. Your gaze was fixed on a spot on your bed. You hadn’t looked up once, even as the doctor spoke. Confused, he nodded, letting the woman pull him to the side, out of earshot from you.

But even as the doctor started speaking, he couldn’t get your eyes out of his mind.

That look in your eye was somehow worse than any of his nightmares combined.

“Mr. Odair, Ms. Y/L/N’s condition is… it’s quite complex,” she cautioned. He furrowed his brows, his worry increasing.

“What do you mean- is she okay-”

“No, I meant- physically, I’m not seeing much to be worried about. Of course, she could be better- much better, but this is what we were expecting.” She paused, glancing at you. “Mentally- I’m not even sure where to begin.”

He glanced back at you, too, to see that you were still staring at that same spot on your bed. He let the doctor’s words register in his brain. You weren’t okay.

“We’ve informed psych, but for now, you’re just gonna need to give her time.” Time.

He let out a breath, feeling his eyes getting wet as what she was saying really soaked in. “You’re telling me to leave.” Just as he got you back.

“Mr. Odair-”

“You’re telling me to leave.”

“Finnick.” She cut him off with a strong call of his name. “Your girlfriend’s mental state right now is unstable. She’s in shock; she’s not herself right now. It is going to take some time to get her out of this state, and it’s going to be hard for you to see her in it. In the meantime, the best thing you can do for her is take some time to collect your thoughts.”

She was telling him to go off and think. Did she know that’s all he’d been doing for hours, thinking and throwing himself into the worst possible scenarios, only to realize that one of them had become a reality?

But he didn’t tell her this, instead looking back at you. You were lifeless. When he looked back at the doctor, there was a pleading expression on her face. He didn’t want to leave you, but she made it sound like the best possible thing to do for you. So he did.

But the truth was, he just couldn’t bear to watch you when you were like that.

You were the love of his life. It was like his heart started beating again when he saw you there, alive, but then it dulled once he really looked at you.

You didn’t look like the girl he fell in love with, the girl that went into that arena, or the girl he said goodbye to. It only took a month, and now you looked like a completely different person, like you had seen things no man had ever seen.

In his haze, Finnick made it back to his room, but he didn’t make it to the bed, collapsing onto the floor, bringing his knees up to his chest as his mind spun.

You were alive. He thought that, when he finally saw you again, all of his worries would be erased, that everything would be okay again, that the world would go back to being in colour instead of this black and white that he’d been stuck in with Katniss.

But nothing seemed more colourful.

Nothing seemed better.

You were here. You were back, Y/N Y/L/N, the same woman he loved, the same woman he’d dreamt about for weeks. You were alive.

But, oh, he should’ve known it couldn’t have been that easy.

Your heart was beating, your eyes were open, and you were there… but that didn’t mean you were alive.

I told you. I’m not letting you die.

Little did Finnick know, you were already dead.

Taglist: @avoxrising @mxacegrey @littleshadow17 @lovelyteenagebeard @nasyanastya @catastrxblues @zodiyack @zulpix-blog @mushroomelephant @muggies @lantsovheiress @hobiebrowns-wife @notplutos @faeriepigeons

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gay-dorito-dust · 27 days

Note

Hello! Can I request smt with Luocha, Dan Heng, Argenti and Boothill? (Separate, and dw if u don’t write for boothill ^^)

You’re dating them and randomly call them husband just to see their reaction. You just say it so casually too during a convo with maybe a friend or a family member

Argenti: ‘Argenti might as well be my husband at this point.’ You said to your friend after retelling a story regarding yourself and Argenti.

‘Awww! I wish Royland was more like Argenti.’ Your friend groaned, glaring daggers at the back of their boyfriend’s head.

Argenti visibly perked up at this, his eyes and smile were practically glowing. Did he hear you right, you consider him as a potential Husband? The gods have answered his prayers and quelled any worries that he might’ve had beforehand. For Argenti fully intends to be your husband one day and until then will commit himself to proving to you why he would make an excellent husband.

The moment he met you, to the moment you begun dating, all Argenti could think of was what it would be like being your devoted husband, your soul partner for the rest of your lives. No one else will do for Argenti but you, and he’s so loyal and extremely devoted to being your partner that the thought of looking at anyone else was so blasphemous; so much so that he’d rather hand you his eyes on a gold platter then ever be tempted by any other.

Argenti has had many dreams about your domestic life as a happily married couple, a happily married couple who were very much still in their honeymoon phase, but when he’s your husband that honeymoon phase would never fade away and die. He would make every day feel just as unique and special as the last few.

He might as well have ‘y/n’s husband’ as his name instead of Argenti because of how much he would use it when introducing himself to anyone new.

Needless to say by the end of the month to the day you and Argenti were officially married and more happy than ever.

Luocha: ‘Luocha would make an amazing husband, don’t you agree?’ You asked your friend, eyeing your boyfriend across the room for his reaction.

‘I thought Luocha was already your husband.’ Your friend asked, genuinely confused.

the moment Luocha hears his name being spoken he doesn’t think much of it, but when it was in the same sentence of as the word husband, that well and truly caught his attention. However it doesn’t take him long to realise what you were doing, but once he realised what was going on it was already too late, as the reaction you pulled out of him was very much a genuine one.

Neither of you had talked about it but according to your friend, you must’ve came across as to others a married couple anyways. So much so that even if you were to ever make it a reality nothing much would change at all for anyone other then himself and you; Yet that didn’t change the fact that the seed was planted and has taken ahold inside of Luocha’s mind as he walked towards you and your friend, placing a hand to the small of your back as he politely greeted your friend, acting none the wiser.

Well your friend might not pick up the hidden cues that told you that he knew, but you did, you could pick up his cues as easily as breathing which makes attempts at teasing one another all the more fun and interesting; Luocha could read you like the back of his hand and you were only starting to get the hang of reading him.

So the look he gives you may not seem like much to other people but to you, it was him telling you that he knew what you were doing, and you couldn’t help but smile back at him in victory because he took the bait you had put in place for him. You didn’t need to hear him to know that the first thing he’d ask once you took your leave would be:

‘I don’t think it’s wise of you to tease your husband. Do you?’

Boothill: ‘you and Boothill? Now that I didn’t see coming.’ Your friend joked as if you hadn’t openly said the most outrageous, thirsty shit about your now boyfriend.

‘Watch it because sooner or later he’ll become my husband.’ You joked back as you and your fiend shared a laugh.

Boothill flashes his sharp teeth in a wicked smirk upon hearing you call him your husband.

Oh now you’ve done it. He’s not going to let you live down the fact that you had called him your husband. He refuses to because he wants to see how you’d react to it. So he’ll make his presence know by confidently striding up to you and resting his hand on your waist, squeezing it, before smashing his sharp teeth once more but this time in a Cheshire grin.

‘Husband?’ He’d ask. ‘Have I secretly been promoted from being your boyfriend without my knowledge? I’m honoured sweetheart, but warn a fella next time before you go and pull this sort of stunt off. Oh wait,’ he pauses before continuing. ‘There’s not going to be a next time because you ain’t gonna be getting rid of me anytime soon. You’re stuck with me forever sugar.’ He cackles as he shamelessly swats you on the ass -hard- for good measure.

Yeah your plan kind of back fired on you because now your the one with the extremely flustered face, and now an sore ass that’ll become a bruise on top of that.

Boothill loved the idea of you belonging to him and only him and vice versa. He’s a possessive prick who’ll gladly put a bullet of two between the eyes of any bastard stupid enough to look at you for longer than a second.

He’s not one to share his treasure and never will be. You’re his now unto forever. Also he’d probably jokingly call himself your husband whenever you meet new people along your journey, and or scaring suitors off by screaming that you/him were married. (You very much weren’t but it works in keeping creeps away, so that’s a bonus.)

He plays on it so much that it’s an inside joke between the two of you and the two of you alone.

Dan Heng: ‘my husband Dan Heng, is just outside getting fresh air, he’s not fond of overcrowded social gatherings.’ You explained to your parents who shared a look of understanding.

Dan Heng, who had finally came back into the house, overheard this conversation and immediately his face burst into flames as his palms became sweaty all of a sudden and his breath hitched in his throat.

Husband?

Him?

Is that why he’s been invited for your family vacations with your parents, grandparents and relatives with their spouses of their own? All because they thought he was your husband? Dan Heng thought he was going to faint then and there from how many times he’s mentioned himself as your husband.

You’ve been together for a while now, but the fact that you were calling him your husband had him feeling some type of way that went beyond comprehension. He likes the idea of being your husband and has had a couple of shameless dreams where you very much were married and had a small family of your own, living a peaceful and loving life together and growing old together, still very much in love. However he always seemed to be at a loss for words when wondering whether in an alternate reality his dreams were your lived reality.

Dan Heng has so many thoughts on being your husband, one of them being that he’d be grateful in being chosen to be your life partner, while the other had still yet to find the words to voice his desire in being your husband aloud without being overcome by his own emotions. So until then he’ll have to suffer you freely calling him your husband in the presence of your parents, not that he’s complaining but he’d rather not be asked why his face still went so red when being called your husband, especially after so long of being assumedly married by your parents.

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agi-ppangx · 2 months

Text

side quest (lee minho x gn!reader)

fluff, no warnings, shy mimo !!!

an: based on this lovely request !! i had so much fun writing this and i really like how it turned out, so i hope you'll enjoy it as well<3 please remember that feedback and reblogs are highly appreciated🫶🏽

“excuse me? hi,” you heard someone’s voice behind you as you were collecting your stuff from the desk. when you looked over your shoulder you noticed a guy from your classes who sat in the back row and always did great at exams. you smiled shyly with rosy cheeks and tilted your head a bit in a silent question.

“hi?” you responded hesitantly, desperately trying to remember his name. It was something starting with an m maybe…?

“i’m minho, we haven’t really spoken but um…” he said quietly, fidgeting with his bracelet. minho, right. “i noticed the badges on your bag and i- i wanted to ask if you play that game?” he finally mumbled, looking at you. you noticed his ears were as red as a tomato and it actually made your heart beat a bit faster - he was just too cute like that.

“oh, um- yeah, i do,” you said, glancing at your bag with a smile. “i’m not that good, though. i mostly play for the vibes, y’know, there’s not really anyone who could teach me all of those complicated strategies and stuff,” you huffed, lowering your head, and you didn’t notice as minho’s face lit up with hope at your words. his eyes sparkled as he watched you carefully adjust one of the badges and it made him a bit bolder to speak up again.

“maybe we could play together sometimes? i could teach you some things,” he suggested and it made you smile wider than before. you raised your head, looking minho in the eyes and it made him a little flustered, but he couldn’t give up now. not when he finally spoke to you, after so many times when he saw you in class and wished you would notice his curious gaze whenever you would adjust your badges as usual. minho thought this subtle habit of yours was oddly heartwarming, the way you always took care of them made him wonder if you would also take care of someone the same way.

“sure, i’d love that,” you said with a huge grin and minho finally felt like he could breathe again. he exhaled loudly, earning a soft giggle from you.

“can i maybe have your number, then?” he asked shyly, handing you his phone, and you smirked.

“be careful, because i'm about to think that the game was just a cover to get my number,” you giggled again, getting bolder, and you typed your number quickly as his eyes widened.

“no! no, i- you just seem really cool and we play the same game and-” he started rambling in pure panic, so you playfully rolled your eyes and placed a tiniest peck on his cheek to make him stop overthinking your joke. you could see his mind go haywire and it actually made your heart ache a little, because you didn’t want the poor boy to get upset.

“don’t worry, i wouldn’t mind anyway. i’ll wait for a text from you then, yeah?” you asked with a smile and minho could only nod, too shocked to comprehend the entire situation. you waved at him and walked away, leaving minho with a pounding heart and burning cheeks.

you flirting with him was something he didn’t even dare to think would happen, but he kind of hoped it could lead to something more. it became like a side quest for him and minho was more than happy to devote himself to it if the winning prize would be your heart.

taglist !

@lynlyndoll @iyenbread @flooo71 @skz-streamer @inniescandy-01 @hannahhbahng @prettymiye0n @ggsez31 @laylasbunbunny @like-a-diamondinthesky @axel-skz @kittymaryam-thebrowniefairy @l3visbby @skzhoes @minhosbitterriver @astraystayyh @xichien @linospuddin

#skz #stray kids #stray kids headcanons #stray kids imagines #stray kids x reader #skz au #stray kids scenarios #stray kids fluff #stray kids lee know #lee know fluff #lee know scenarios #lee know imagines #lee know x reader #lee know headcanons

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joelslastofus · 2 months

Text

[SUMMARY: You are not in a labeled relationship with Joel and end up getting pregnant just as he leaves to find his brother. Once you both find each other and he finds out you’re pregnant, Joel reacts in a cruel way due to his PTSD.]

Angst drama TW: mention of abortion, death.

“You shouldn’t have kept it“ he said flatly.

“That baby won’t survive this world-“

“Stop it” you whispered.

Joel and you had been keeping each other company for the last few months. One thing led to another and eventually you were intimate with him. Neither of you had really spoken about what exactly the two of you had together, Joel was never up for much conversation and you honestly preferred it that way. The world was complicated enough than to add labels on what you both had. All you knew was that the feel of his touch would make you forget about the shit storm you both were dealing with and he sure loved to relieve stress with you, especially whenever he’d return from a long day out. You knew whatever you two had wasn’t going to last forever, Joel was searching for this brother and you felt he was close to finding him.

One day you walked in to find him packing his bags and you knew this was it. Joel stood up taking a deep breath, his jacket and backpack on, he was ready to leave.

“I got a car to get me to where my brother is rumored to be” he began to explain as you leaned back against the wall with your arms crossed. You never asked where or anything about his brother, Joel rarely liked to share much anyways. You nodded with half a smile as he walked closer to you with a hint of sadness in his eyes.

“Why don’t you come along with me? You can stay with me and-“

“Joel, I told you this is where I belong. Go find your brother” you assured him. You could see the disappointment in his eyes but he respected your wishes and nodded.

“I’ll see you around” Joel leaned in and kissed you once more before quickly walking off as you felt a sudden knot in your throat.

Why the hell would you be getting upset about this? Turning back to see him leave you saw him walking out with a woman you had never seen, must’ve been the person who helped him with a car. A sinking feeling in your chest as he disappeared from your view, you sighed throwing yourself onto the bed.

“It was fun while it lasted” you whispered to yourself staring at the ceiling, you always knew it would end yet you never really much thought of how it would feel when it did.

Weeks continued to go by as you found yourself more alone than usual. You found yourself missing Joel but you always tried to shake the feeling off. It had been four weeks since he left, you couldn’t believe how fast time had gone when your heart dropped at the thought.

“Four weeks” you whispered in shock. Four weeks had passed and you realized you never got your period. Calming yourself down you tried to convince yourself it was stress, of course it was, Joel was as careful as he could be. Pacing back and fourth in the room you decided to head to the doctors room a few doors down. Walking inside without asking for permission taking advantage that no one was inside, you began going through the drawers.

“Come on, there has to be a pregnancy test here somewhere” you mumbled to yourself when one of the nurses walked in.

“Excuse me, what do you think you’re doing?!” Ignoring her you continued opening each cabinet and drawer until you finally came across a basket holding a stack of them.

“Got it!” Grabbing a few you ran out of the room as the nurse continued to yell at you down the hall.

Closing the door of where you stayed you quickly bit the plastic off at the edge to take out the test. Just as the instructions had said, you dipped each stick in urine and now waited for the results.

“Please don’t be positive, please don’t be positive” you closed your eyes as your heart raced with anticipation. You knew it was time to check them and slowly opened your eyes to see exactly what you were afraid of. Two positive pregnancy tests sat in front of you, your hand quickly covering your mouth in shock before you looked up at yourself in the mirror. Tears immediately forming as you began to hyperventilate. Fanning yourself you took a deep breath closing your eyes again trying to keep yourself calm, only to open them hoping to somehow see something different.

“Shit!” You yelled slamming your fist on the counter. God knows how far long exactly you were. Maybe there was a way to still change this, there was a doctor there after all.

“Sorry we don’t provide procedures of that nature” the doctor spoke with an unfriendly tone.

“What do you mean? You do plenty of procedures-“

“We don’t do that” she emphasized.

“What about a pill?” You asked desperately. The doctor simply shook her head and rolled her eyes. You sat in shock and silence, how the hell were you suppose to bring a child into this world with the way things were.

“What am I suppose to do?” You whispered.

“Talk to the man who got you here” she stacked up her papers and stood up leaving you alone in the room with your thoughts. The man who got you here was God knows where at this point.

Seven months had now gone by, many things changed for you including where you stayed. After your area was attacked you were saved by a group who took you in and kept you safe. Being in Jackson you felt was the best thing that could’ve happened to you. The people were friendly, helpful and it gave you hope for your baby. There was two doctors here that monitored your pregnancy the best way they could and were happy to inform you that you were having a boy.

It was easy to make friends here, one man named Kevin took a special liking to you and always seemed to help you around. Tommy and his wife Maria were especially very friendly and did what they could to make sure you were comfortable. For the first time you weren’t so afraid and hopeless. From time to time you thought of Joel, you wondered if he ever found his brother, you wondered if he was still alive.

Laying in bed you could hear the others speaking down the hall, three people were found close by and were going to be bought in. Jackson always seemed to take in people, it was surprising how they never seemed to run out of food. Speaking of food, your stomach rumbled at the thought of something to eat yet your eyes fought to stay open and so you decided to nap for the time being.

A couple hours later you woke up feeling famished. Getting your swollen feet off the bed you sighed pushing yourself up to take yourself to the cafeteria. You’d give anything for a nice grilled burger right now but anything will do. Pushing through the big wooden doors you could hear Tommy’s voice when you heard another very familiar voice.

It couldn’t be…could it?

The voice making you stop in your tracks as you looked up and could see it was exactly who you thought.

Joel stood with his back to you speaking to Tommy, just as Tommy noticed you standing at the doorway as if you had seen a ghost.

“Hey, you alright?” Before you could move Joel turned to you with an instant look of shock. His eyes immediately noticing your growing belly as you took a step back.

“Joel?” You whispered hesitantly, your hand gently cradling your belly.

“You know her?” Tommy asked confused as Joel fully turned to you beside his brother, silently he nodded not taking his eyes off you. A feel of some kind of relief washed over you but didn’t last as the unknown woman you had seen Joel leave with entered the room through the side door.

“Come on, Joel. Let’s get some rest” she grabbed his hand not noticing you in the room. Joel could see the hurt in your eyes as you took another step back and quickly walked out of the room.

Joel slowly took his hand back not saying a word as Tess looked at him confused.

“What was that about?” She asked but Joel didn’t respond, his eyes never having left the door you walked out of. Tess began to sarcastically laugh.

“Don’t tell me that’s her”

“How long she been here?” Joel asked Tommy ignoring Tess only angering her. She sucked her teeth walking out but it didn’t seem to phase Joel.

“Two months” Tommy responded.

“She was in pretty bad shape when we found her” Joel quickly turned to Tommy with a look of concern.

“But she’s alright now?”

“Of course, we have doctors looking after her- Joel” Tommy couldn’t seem to help himself from asking.

“You and her…-“

Joel cleared his throat uncomfortably and took a deep breath. Tommy simply pressed his lips together accurately reading his brothers reactions. Joel wasn’t sure if the baby was his but he knew there was a possibility.

“Go talk to her, brother” he patted Joel on the shoulder and left the room.

Sitting on the bed still in shock you wiped the tears from your face and heard a knock on the door.

You knew it was him yet you were so hesitant to open.

He looked down at you with furrowed brows as you stood silently unsure of what to say.

“Is it mine?” He blurt out in a dry tone. You nodded, your confirmation making him show obvious distress. He took a step back brushing his hand over his lips as you thought of what you could say.

“You let me leave“

“What?” You asked confused.

“You let me leave knowing damn well you was pregnant-“

“No!” You yelled in frustration with his accusations.

“I didn’t know a thing, I found out a month after you left I didn’t know what to do” you explained as his eyes drifted down to your belly but he only seemed to be feeling anger in that moment.

“I could’ve thought of something for you to do” his dark eyes found yours with a coldness that could cut through you leaving you speechless.

“So you found my brother and thought what?“

“I didn’t know that was your brother, Joel. You never told me a damn thing about you! I’ve been here for two months, you told me you were off to find him almost eight months ago!”

“Well things came up” he snapped back.

“Oh I’m sure they did, with your girlfriend right?”

Your words making him silent but you could tell there was so much he wanted to say.

“You shouldn’t have kept it“ he said flatly.

“That baby won’t survive this world-“

“Stop it” you whispered.

“This world isn’t meant for children-“

“Get out!” you screamed holding back tears.

“Get out and go back with that girlfriend of yours, I was fine on my own-“

“That’s not what Tommy told me” you had enough with how cruel he was acting. Slamming the door in his face Joel stood for a moment with a slight look of guilt. All Joel could think of was how this very world took his daughter from him, he couldn’t face something like that again. His fear coming out of him in ways that only hurt you, Joel felt out of control. Not saying a word he walked off back to the room Tommy had set for him.

Walking into the room he found Tess laying back on the bed, almost forgetting he wasn’t alone. He didn’t say a word to her but she could sense his anger.

“That thing yours?” A sarcastic tone in her voice.

Joel didn’t respond turning his back to Tess making her once again laugh.

“It was handled, Tess”

“Oh yeah? How was it handled, Joel? Did you miraculously make the whore disappear?” Joel stopped in his tracks looking over his shoulder.

“She’s not a whore”

“Now he defends her” she mumbled under her breath as she stood up from the bed.

“Listen, Joel we had a plan-“

“No” he snapped back at her turning to face her.

“You had a plan, Tess. My plan was to find my brother and I did.”

“So then maybe this is the end of our journey” she shrugged.

“Maybe it is.” And with that response Tess grabbed her bag and walked out loudly slamming the door. Joel didn’t bother going after her, he didn’t even know exactly what he was feeling. Joel sat on the edge of the bed rubbing his face with his large hands when Tommy opened the door.

“You alright?”

“What do you think?” He grumbled still hiding his face in his hands.

“When did that happen?” Tommy asked referring to you as he closed the door behind him.

“We lived together for a while” he explained looking up at him.

“So why didn’t she come with you?”

“It wasn’t like that.” Yet he couldn’t help but remember how much he wanted you to come with him.

Joel sighed leaning forward shaking his head.

“I can’t…I can’t do this again, Tommy” Joel whispered referring to the loss of his daughter.

“Does she know about-“

“No.” Tommy could hear the guilt in Joel’s voice, he couldn’t imagine what his brother was feeling.

That night Joel tried his best to get sleep but it seemed like an impossible task. His arms crossed he stared at the ceiling wondering what was going through your mind.

The next day Joel came out to take a look at how the community worked, he saw Ellie already helping out and found you working with a few others. Lifting boxes and passing them down, Joel suddenly looked concerned as Tommy appeared beside him.

“How you feeling today?” Tommy asked noticing Joel didn’t take his eyes off you.

“Why do you have her working?”

“She’s fine, those boxes aren’t heavy.” Joel didn’t care if the boxes weren’t heavy, he didn’t care if you were the one who volunteered to do it, had you two been on speaking terms he wouldn’t have allowed it.

“She wanted to keep herself busy, Joel. What could I say?” Joel watched as you continued to work. At one point tripping over your own foot, he jumped ready to help you before you caught yourself.

“I told you she shouldn’t be there” Joel crossing his arms, his shoulders tense as a man came up to you and began to speak with you. You told the others you were going on a break and walked off with this man not knowing you were being watched. Tommy noticed the expression on Joel’s face and nudged him attempting to distract him.

“That’s Kevin…nothing goin on with em.”

Joel didn’t say a word but Tommy knew his brother all too well.

“Look, why don’t you just try talking to her again. Try at least man, that’s your kid-“

“I know that” Joel turned to his brother with an irritated look. Before Tommy could say a word Joel quickly made his way down the stairs following you and Kevin inside.

Joel walked down the hall and could hear you laughing until he stopped at a doorway. Kevin stood before you with his hand on your belly striking a jealousy Joel had never felt before.

His jaw clenched as he watched you laugh moving his hand around so that he could feel his child.

“Did you feel that? The baby is usually calm but when it’s time for bed it’s a wrap” you sighed placing your hands to support your back.

“Shouldn’t be on your feet too much” Joel’s voice surprised you making you turn to him. Kevin stood up straight clearing his throat, he knew who Joel was. Nothing had ever happened between you and Kevin but everyone knew Kevin liked you, everyone but you.

“The doctor said I’m fine to go about my day” you explained as he stood across from you, not even sure why you explained yourself in the first place. Joel didn’t respond at first, looking over at Kevin not afraid to show he didn’t want him in the room.

“Kevin, I’ll talk to you later ok? Just give me a minute” Kevin nodded and walked out of the room looking back at you as he walked out the door.

“What do you want Joel?”

“You and Kevin?”

“No” you responded defensively.

“What do you care anyways, isn’t your girlfriend waiting for you somewhere-“

“She’s not my girl” Joel responded as he took a step closer.

“Well Kevin has just been a friend helping me a bit.”

“Oh I’m sure he is.” He was obviously bothered by Kevin yet it was confusing as to why he would be. It couldn’t be jealousy, Joel never had any deep feelings for you, or so you thought.

“Joel, what the hell is your problem? We don’t have to speak, you already made it clear how you felt-“

“Have I?” He took another step closer inches away from you.

“What is your problem?!” You repeated in frustration as he stared down at you.

“My problem is that you have Kevin over there trying to get close to you and my baby-“

“He’s not trying to do that” you tried to defend him while also realizing Joels wording, suddenly he had a problem with someone getting close to a baby he didn’t want? Suddenly he had a problem with another man getting close to you.

“It’s not like that with him” you continued.

“Oh yeah? So what was that?” He motioned his head towards the door Kevin had walked out of.

“What was what?” You yelled once again.

“This” Joel unexpectedly placed his hand on your belly, shocking himself by how quickly he felt the baby begin to kick. You gasped looking down feeling the baby jump around like he had never before. For the first time for Joel this felt real. His anger, his nerves suddenly subsiding at the feel of his baby moving around inside you. He was speechless, his hands not moving away as you felt a rather sharp pain from a kick making you wince. Your hand unexpectedly covering his hand on the spot where you felt the pain, yet neither of you moved.

“You alright?” He whispered. You looked up to find his deep brown eyes filled with concern, a rush of confusion taking over you. One minute he’s angry the next he’s concerned, one minute he doesn’t care the next he’s jealous. Whatever it was it was all too much and the last thing you wanted to deal with was games.

“Hey” he spoke in a whisper trying to get your attention noticing your mind went elsewhere. Before you said a word you abruptly pushed his hand away and practically ran out the room.

Quickly wiping a tear away you could hear Joel right behind you calling out for you until he caught your arm.

“Let go of me!” You yelled snatching your arm back.

“You don’t get to do that, tell me I should’ve gotten rid of it then…then now acting like you give a shit.” He knew why you were upset with him, hell he himself didn’t know what the hell he was feeling but he also knew you didn’t know the truth. Turning away from him again you tried quickly to make your way out the door until his words stopped you in your tracks.

“I had a daughter” you couldn’t see his face but you could feel his emotion within that simple sentence.

“The night-“ he cleared his throat looking down.

“The night this began, my daughter was…my daughter was killed” you stood still with your lips parted in disbelief.

“I don’t talk about it but…it destroyed me…it changed me” he whispered, the sound in his voice breaking your heart. You turned to find him looking down fidgeting with a watch he had on, his mind taking him back to that very moment.

“Joel…” you whispered slowly walking towards him.

“I know I said things to you, it wasn’t right but I cant-“ his voice cracked as a tear fell down his cheek. Slowly you placed your soft hand on the side of his face and that’s when he truly became vulnerable. Joel began to sob in a way you had never seen, you silently cried with him caressing him gently before he looked up at you and quickly wiped away his tears. He stood up straight and looked down at your belly before looking at you straight into your eyes.

“I promise honey I won’t let anything happen to you or our baby, ever. I know I haven’t shared much but I promise you can take my word on it. I’m sorry I left-“

“Joel” you whispered taking his face in your hands. All along he had feelings for you just as you did for him, all along so many things unsaid..

“We found each other now” you whispered.

“That’s all that matters” you continued just as you felt another strong kick.

“Oh-“ you leaned forward holding your belly.

“What is it?” Joel quickly placed his hands on your arms holding you up.

“He’s just kicking a whole lot right now” you chuckled shaking your head before realizing the look in his eyes.

“What?” You asked confused.

“He” Joel whispered.

“Oh…yes. It’s a boy” for the first time in a long time Joel’s lips curved into a smile.

“Well if that’s the case, if he’s anything like me, you better get your butt into bed” the two of you laughed together looking into each others eyes before slowly leaning in and kissing him.

#pedro pascal #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x you #joel miller angst #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x f!reader #tlou fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction

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munsons-hellfire · 4 months

Text

Forever Together 1 | Poly!Bat Boys

SUMMARY: You didn't think you'd find a mate, let alone three mates. Over the course of the decades it snaps for them first, then snaps for you one at a time until the worst possible thing could every happen. With truths revealed you can finally have the happiness you had always deserved.

PAIRINGS: Bat Boys x Reader

CONTENT WARNINGS: Wing clipping (mentioned at the beginning in detail, and mentioned somewhat through out the one shot), mentions of cheating (reader's mother), mentions of abuse (reader's father and brothers), angst, fluff, no smut.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Firstly I feel as though in some parts they might be rushed. I didn't entirely follow the books except for the ending of the third one and I did change the plot line as the bat boys are reader's mate. Feyre has a different mate, and if you'd like more to this story Nesta would be mated to someone else. I have more ideas for this storyline in particular, so let me know if you'd like to see more. Anyway I hope you enjoy.

WORD COUNT: 6.2K Words

Pain. Pain was all you could feel. Blood was what you could smell. Laughter coming from your father and brothers is all you could hear. You didn’t know how you had reached this point. You were leaving for Velaris to see the males you considered family more than your own family. You had your bags in hand and were getting ready to take off when they had attacked you. Your brothers had tackled you down to the ground and held onto you while your father took your wings and clipped them from your body.

You didn’t know you could feel so much pain like you did as they were being cut off. They had taken away the most important thing in your life, and they had all laughed while they did it. They didn’t give you a reason they just did. After taking your wings this disappeared and left you on the outskirts of their camp to die. Moans of pain left your throat as tears cascaded down your cheeks. Your back was on fire, as rain droplets hit the open wounds. Your wet hair covered your face, and your body was covered in mud with bruises forming around your wrist and on your knees.

You rested your forehead against the ground as you continued to cry at the loss of your wings. You knew that Rhys, Cass, and Az were probably worried when you hadn’t showed up. They were your best friends and had been since you had met them before Rhysand had become High Lord. You were lucky to find them when you did, they had given you a second chance to have a family that cared about you. Morrigan had easily become one of your closest friends. Amren didn’t warm up to you at first but she eventually pulled around.

Rhysand had asked that you permanently move to Velaris with them, you had agreed simply because you were afraid of losing your wings. You just wished you had left sooner when the offer left his lips. Now they were gone and you would never be able to feel the wind in your hair as you flew through the sky. You’d never be able to feel the freedom it gave you anymore. It was taken from you, and those males you had called father and brothers had taken from you. Azriel had been flying back to Velaris after a mission when Rhys had spoken to him.

“Y/N hasn’t shown up. Can you find her and bring her home?” Rhys asked the Shadowsinger.

“I’ll bring her home, Rhys.” Azriel adjusted course and headed towards Illyria, towards your camp.

When Azriel changed his course a wave of pain rushed through him and he almost crashed into a tree. He could feel your panic, and he was certain that Rhysand and Cassian could feel it too. Maybe that was why Rhys had spoken to him and asked to look for you. When he got closer he could smell your blood. He knew what had happened almost instantly. He regretted not fighting harder to bring you home weeks ago. The male collapsed to his knees beside you, his scarred hand reaching out to you and moving your wet away from your face.

“Y/N, can you hear me?” He questioned, moving to feel for a pulse.

You didn’t answer, but he sighed when he felt a pulse. It was weak but there. His shadows were just as panicked as he was. Very gently Azriel picked you up from the mud and held onto your body. Azriel called to Rhysand as he moved with his shadows. When he arrived in Velaris he took off to the House of Wind. When he landed outside the house they were all waiting. Fear had been etched into each of their faces as they all took you in. The blood had somewhat clotted but in some areas it was still gliding down your back. Mor took in your state, your face pale from the bloodloss.

“What happened?” Was all the female had managed to get out. Anger had made its way onto Rhysand and Cassian’s face as they stared at them.

“I don’t know. I think she was attacked, they clipped her wings.” Azriel explained, a sob ran through your throat at the words that left his mouth. You clung onto Azriel tighter. But it wasn’t enough, you felt yourself slipping, the voices around you growing distant. Everything disappeared, you were alone in complete darkness. But one thing remained that you held onto, a golden string that tied you to three males.

Cassian was pacing the hallway, Rhys and Azriel sat next to each other watching the male. Mor and Amren sat in the living room, waiting. Madja and a few other healers were in the room working on your back. Cassian stopped moving when your screams ripped through his ears. It pained him to not be in there with you.

“Do you know who did it?” Cassian finally asked, closing his eyes fighting the urge to run into the room to be with you.

“No.” Azriel’s jaw clenched. “Though I have a feeling her family was responsible. Something happened for them to act the way that they did. Attacking her at night when she’s set to leave knowing she’d never return.” Azriel added.

“I want the entire family brought to Hewn City and locked up until we can figure out what to do with them. I don’t care who did this, they will pay for taking away the one thing that meant the most to her.” Rhysand ordered sharing a look with his Spymaster and his General.

“I can go get them right now and lock them up until we’re ready to talk to them.” Azriel said, though he didn’t want to leave you. Hearing your screams of agony was killing him just as much as it had been Rhys and Cass. He needed something to distract him until Madja and the other healers had done what they could. Rhys gave a simple nod of his head.

Before Azriel could leave another scream escaped your lips, he allowed a shadow to leave him and stay in the room with you. The shadowsinger watched as it slipped under the door. It found a spot on your neck, helping you cool down. With that Azriel disappeared moving into the shadows to find the ones that had taken your wings for their own sick game. Though he had no doubt in his mind that your father was getting ready to place them on the mantle in your home as a prize.

“We can’t tell her about the bond, not now anyway.” Cassian mumbled as he sat down next to his High Lord.

Rhysand turned, his violet eyes searching hazel eyes. The mating bond had snapped for them all at once a few weeks ago when they were with you. They had shown up to the war camp and taken you to the cabin where Mor and Amren already were. It had been such a fun time for you and all of them. To be able to spend free time without the fear of your father looming over you. You were completely wasted alongside Mor, the two of you dancing and singing not a car in the world. And as the three males stared up at you with your arms wrapped around Mor laughter falling from your lips that golden string connected the three males to you and to each other.

The confusion was clear as day when it happened, and you were completely oblivious to it. In the coming days after discovering the bond the three males had managed to work through what they felt, they were better now because of it. But they wanted you to know, they didn’t want to force the bond, but keeping it from you would only anger you so they agreed to tell you when you had come home to them. Rhysand reached out for Cassian’s hand and held it tightly in his.

“We’ll tell her after she gets through this. She’s going to need all of us, Mor and Amren included.” Cassian gave a nod of his head. The affection that each male received from each other since the bond had snapped was still very new, however it was a welcome surprise. Finally the doors opened and Madja stepped out. Her eyes landed on the High Lord and the General.

“How is she?” Cassian was the first to ask the question, needing to break the silence both between them and in his mind.

“She’ll pull through. Though she’ll be in pain for a few days, it’s best for her to rest while the scars heal. She’s also asking for you two and the spymaster.” Madja explained, looking between the two males.

“Az, get back here now.�� Rhysand’s words were firm but an order. Luckily he had your parents and brothers locked in cells in Hewn City. They would most likely be waiting a few days in the cells.

“I’m on my way.” Was all he said.

Rhysand watched Madja and the other healers disappear, leaving them in the hallway. He could hear Madja talking to Mor and Amren, most likely explaining what she had explained to Rhysand and Cassian. The two males finally walked in, the door closed behind them. You were in the center of the bed, laying on your stomach. Your eyes were closed, sweat was falling down your forehead. Bandages covered your back where your wings had once been. They moved closer to the bed but stopped.

Azriel appeared in the corner of the room, his shadows surrounding him, talking to him, “safe”. They’d said, and you were and you would be from now on. Finally you opened your eyes and stared at the three males that stood before you. Sorrow rested in their eyes as they continued to stare at you. They could feel your pain through the bond, feel how much it was killing you to not feel them on your back anymore. These next few months were going to be hell but you were thankful to have these three males by your side.

───── ❝ ◂ ❚ ⊱ꕥ⊰ ❚ ▸ ❞ ─────

Rhysand stood in a dark room with Cassian and Azriel behind him. The High Lord was staring down at your father. He had talked to your mother and brothers but none of them had said an ounce of anything. A few days after you had gotten enough sleep and had healed somewhat Rhys had brought up the topic of what to do with your family. You had given the decision to the male considering you could never look at any of them again. So here they were trying to get to the bottom of why your wings had been completely clipped from your body.

“Why did you do it?” Rhys’ voice was powerful as the question swam around the dark room.

The male glared at Rhysand, then his eyes fell onto Cassian and Azriel. Finally after hours of asking the same question the male snapped and shared his true intentions behind your wing clipping.

“Because she is a bastard child, never should she have been born. But who was I to deny my wife another babe? I should’ve seen it though. She looks nothing like me.” His voice was cold and his eyes were dark. This information that he had discovered was something the three males needed to know without realizing it.

“What are you talking about?” Cassian urged, taking a step forward but still holding his ground behind Rhysand.

“The female that you consider a friend, she isn’t my daughter. She belongs to that High Lord in the Day Court. According to my wife she had gotten pregnant when she went to visit some friends in the Day Court.” The male paused clenching his fist as he thought about it. “I should’ve picked up on it sooner.”

Azriel and Cassian had shocked expressions on their faces as the words ran through their pointed ears. They quickly put on a neutral mask to hide the shock.

“You’re saying that Y/N is the princess of Helion?” Rhysand asked, trying not to let his voice falter.

“Unfortunately.”

“Why did you take her wings from her?” Azriel asked.

“She didn’t deserve those wings. She didn’t deserve to have any trace of those wings. That female got what was coming to her. I only wished I had ended her life that night instead of taking her wings from her.” He seethed, staring at the males.

Rhysand leaned forward and lifted his hand to the male’s head and slammed it into the table, breaking his nose. “You took away the only thing that meant everything to her you damned bastard.” Cassian and Azriel were quick to pull their High Lord from the male and out of the room. When they were no longer in the room the two males let go of Rhysand. They stared at him intently as his emotions flew down the bridge between them.

“What are we going to do with them?” Cassian was the first to break the silence between them.

“They’ll stay locked up. And we’re telling Y/N everything. She deserves to know the truth about her father, about who he actually is. But not today. Let her rest today. We’ll tell her in a few days.” Cassian and Azriel gave a nod to Rhysand.

───── ❝ ◂ ❚ ⊱ꕥ⊰ ❚ ▸ ❞ ─────

They had done just that, allowing you to take in the new information of who your real father was. You had taken the news better than they thought you would. Somewhere deep down you had always known that the male that raised you wasn’t your father. And now there was a chance for you to have a relationship with your biological father. In the days since you had started your recovery they had decided to keep the mating bond from you just until you had healed back to full strength.

It would see that fate would have other plans for the four of you. A few days after your recovery had started Rhysand had left for a party. He had received an invite from Amarantha herself. You had tried to get Rhys to stay with you and the others, you needed him more than ever (though you still weren’t sure why). But his duty as High Lord rose above, he promised you, Cassian, and Azriel that he’d be back before they knew it. He made it clear to Cassian and Azriel that they’d discuss the mating bond with you when he got back as he no longer could keep it hidden and honestly neither could they.

When Rhys had been locked up Under the Mountain and you all had been locked in, Velaris, not able to leave. Things changed. The bond had snapped into place for you with only one of them. It had snapped one day when you were out on the roof training with Cassian, he had knocked you down and held you down to the mats staring into your eyes. The wind had been knocked right out of you when you looked back up at the General. That was when it all came out to you, the truth. Azriel stood near the two of you.

“How long?” You asked, still staring at Cassian.

“We’ve known since the Cabin. It snapped for the three of us at the same time when you were dancing with Mor in the living room by the fire.” Cassian explained as he moved back from you allowing you room to breathe and process the information.

“You’ve all known I was your mate since before my wings were taken and you didn’t say anything?” You looked between Cassian and Azriel, you still only felt the bond between you and Cassian but it was strong. They both gave a small nod.

“We were going to tell you that night, the night I found you in the rain bleeding, crying out at the loss of your wings. But you were so broken, and having found out that Helion was your father we couldn’t tell you. We all felt that it was too much stress to have you under and we didn’t want to put you under the pressure of the mating bond. Rhys said we would tell you when he came home from the party but now who knows what’ll happen.” Azriel said.

You could see the pain in both of their eyes and while you were missing Rhys more than anything right now. You could see just how much they missed Rhys because they had felt the bond snap for them, they were connected to each other and it was only now that one of them had snapped for you. It was just Cassian and not Azriel and Rhysand. Your heart ached just thinking about it. About when the bond would snap for you. But right now you need time to clear your head.

“I need time to process this.” You breathed out, dropping your head into your hands. “I only felt the bond between Cass and I snap.” You paused looking up at Az. “I don’t doubt that all three of you are my mates, that we are mates for each other. I will admit that the Cauldron had blessed us with this mating bond. But I know that you and Rhys will snap for me when the time is right. But for now I need time to process.”

“You will have it, we’ll give you as much time as you need.” Cassian exhaled.

“We’ll wait however long it takes.” Azriel added.

Later that day you had found yourself in the kitchen making dinner for everyone. Mor and Amren were in the living room with Cassian and Azriel. You had found that cooking had helped you find some semblance of peace. It cleared your mind and allowed you to think properly. What you hadn’t expected was to feel the return of something you had missed for so long. You stopped what you were doing walking into the living room and staring towards the door.

Mor noticed you first, she stood from the couch and walked over to you. She grasped a hold of your hand as tears started to fall from your face. Rhysand stood there near the front door, a male behind him. Rhys’ eyes were panicked as he looked for each mate. Mor finally turned to see what you had been looking at.

“Rhys.” You breathed out. Cassian and Azriel had already been staring at their mate. You felt the tug of the bond through Cassian, his happiness flowing through it. You left Mor’s side and ran to him, colliding into his body and hugging him tightly. He hesitated hugging you back, something you, Cassian and Azriel had picked up on. But then your thoughts washed away when he hugged you back. Then you took in the male that stood behind Rhys, when you pulled away from him he noticed the confused look on his face.

“This is Ryder, he is my friend. Feyre is his mate, the one who saved all of us. He was kicked out of his court because he attended the party with his High Lord.” Rhysand started to explain.

“It was more like I went against the wishes of Beron. I couldn’t stand the male anymore.” He said, looking at the ones that stared at him.

“Welcome, I was just finishing setting dinner out, please join us.” You said softly. Rhys found his heart skipping a beat at your kindness towards someone you had just met. You walked away from them, Mor followed behind to help bring the food out. When you disappeared, and Ryder walked with Amren over to the table, Rhysand's eyes found Cassian and Azriel staring at him.

“We have a lot to discuss but not tonight.” Rhysand said, the two gave a nod of understanding.

───── ❝ ◂ ❚ ⊱ꕥ⊰ ❚ ▸ ❞ ─────

In the months since Rhys had been freed a war had been looming over everyone’s heads. Feyre Archeron had after a few months had officially joined the Night Court leaving Tamlin behind. Things were changing and you could feel it. But then it happened, you were on the ground near Rhysand tears spilling out of your eyes. Cassian and Azriel were both hurt and the Feyre’s sister’s had been forced into the Cauldron.

But you couldn’t focus on anything else, not when the bond for you and Azriel had finally snapped into place. You were now tied to Cassian and Azriel, but now you might lose both of them. A sob escaped your lips. You looked up as the Hybern king walked towards you. He pushed Rhysand out of the way and grabbed a hold of your chin lifting it towards his face.

“What a surprise? Mated to three males, but only two have snapped into place. Two of whom might die.” His words ran around the room and shock fell onto some faces.

“You don’t know anything, bastard.” You spat, choosing at that moment to put yourself together. This had been why Rhys had made you High Lady. He knew that you had known about the mating bond and while you had fully accepted it you had still been waiting for it to snap between you and Azriel and you and Rhysand. The High Lord knew you would make a wonderful High Lady as his equal.

“Don’t I?” He taunted. “Your wings were taken from you because your father discovered that you were the princess of the High Lord over in Day Court. You're mated to three males. You little shining star are easy to read. Your face gives away everything, and so does your father.” Your heart stopped beating as you looked at the male that still held onto your chin.

“What are you talking about?” The confusion was evident in your voice.

“Well someone let go of your brothers and parents when Rhysand was trapped in the Mountain. And let's just say they joined my army. Though I can’t say the same for your mother. She put up a fight but it was easy for my niece and nephew to squash her brain like it was nothing. She was given a worthless death.”

“No.” Was all you could manage to say. You could feel something running through your body but nothing could escape. You just kneeled there not believing that your mother had been taken from this world. The Hybern King had been hoping that some of your power from your true father might escape at the mention of your mothers death but nothing happened.

“I guess your mother wasn’t important. Maybe I should kill the shadowsinger. Or how about the general since he was the first to snap for you. Maybe he’d be the one to bring forth your power.”

You moved your hand behind your back as you lifted your face glaring at the male before you. Rhysand, Feyre and Ryder watched and pulled a small dagger out of hiding. Slowly you stood from the floor to better match up to him.

“You will not lay a hand on any of my mates because if you do, I will make sure you die a slow and painful death.” As those words left your mouth you pulled your hand back and managed to throw the blade into the male’s chest. He roared back in pain and it had been enough of a scene for everyone to make it out. Rhysand wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you with him.

Your eyes found Feyre and she gave a nod to you. This plan had been exactly what the three of you had discussed. Minus the injuries to Cassian and Azriel. Upon winnowing back to Velaris you collapsed to the ground finally breaking at the loss of your mother. You couldn’t do it in front of them, you know they were in the shadows watching. And you couldn’t give them that satisfaction. Rhys wrapped himself around you and held tightly as you sobbed into his chest.

“She’s gone.” She whispered, another sob leaving your mouth.

Rhys didn’t say anything, he just held onto you while the others made themselves useful making sure Madja was helping Cassian and Azriel. You pulled back and looked into Rhys’ violet eyes.

“I know the war is coming. I can’t lose any of you, I won’t allow it to happen.” Your lower lip quivered.

“Nothing will happen.” But you and Rhys knew that it was inevitable. That someone would die.

───── ❝ ◂ ❚ ⊱ꕥ⊰ ❚ ▸ ❞ ─────

You stood next to your father, Helion. He had come to see you before the battle started. As he looked at you, he could see the glimpse of your mother on your face.

“Did you love her?” You asked, staring into his golden eyes.

“Your mother was one of my many lovers when she’d come to visit my Court. But she held a special place in my heart. And even though she’s no longer here with us there’s a piece of her in you.”

Helion paused as you processed his words. Rhysand, Cassian, and Azriel stood not far off from you and Helion. They could hear the conversation between you two.

“When this is over I’d like to get to know my daughter more. Only if you are okay with that, my little sunshine.” A smile graced your lips as you stared at the make you’d be happy to call your father.

“I’d be happy to do that. I’d like to get to know my real father. I’d like to know what I could’ve had with you in your Court.”

“As my first born you would be High Lady when I step down.”

“No.” The word was stern as it came out of your mouth. You couldn’t take that duty over not only because you were already High Lady of the Night Court, but because you knew Helion had a son as well. You had been told by Feyre and Ryder that Lucien was in fact the prince of the Day Court, that meant that you had a half brother. “I am already High Lady and I do not plan to step down from that position for a long time.”

“Very well.” Helion looked back at the three males that were -almost- your mates. “Do they treat you well?”

You turned to follow his gaze, the males looked away pretending to do something, to act like they weren’t listening in on your conversation when you knew very well that they were. You released a laugh, it had caught their pointed ears and the three males gazed back over to you. The love was ever so clear in each of their eyes, and while the bond might not have snapped for you with Rhys yet; but you knew one thing for certain. You were going to accept the bond with all three of them. You turned back to Helion as he placed his amber eyes on you.

“Even before I knew that we were mates I knew that I had loved each of them for different reasons. And to know that we are mates had heightened that love. I’d go out onto that battlefield and die for them if it meant a better tomorrow and I knew that they’d do the same for me. I may have lost my wings but one way or another they saved me in every way they could.”

“That’s wonderful news my little sunshine. I may not have been part of your life, I wish I could’ve been because I would’ve taken you and your mother away before they ever took your wings from you.”

“I wouldn’t change any of the things that have happened to me. I may not have liked them at the time it happened and what happened with my wings, it was painful to go through but I pulled through. I wish Rhys had been there for my recovery but he was going through worse at the time and so were you. I have learned to move through my trauma and it is because of my mates that I have healed.”

The three males behind you had the biggest smiles on their lips as you explained all of this to your father. “Maybe when you come over to the Day Court to visit we can figure out if you have my shape-shifting ability, if you do then you might be able to shift Illyrian wings onto your back once more and fly through the sky again.”

Your heart beat fast against your chest, it felt like it was going to break through at the mention of it. Cassian stepped forward, joining in on the conversation.

“She could do that?” He asked, his hazel eyes switching to Helion then back to you.

“It’s possible. If Feyre has the ability to shift Illyrian wings on her back then I have no doubt that Y/N could too.” Your knees were going to buckle, you could feel it so you made quick movement and pulled your father into a hug. The first of many for sure. He was shocked at first but eventually he hugged you back. “Now I must go ready my army. I’ll see you out there.”

You watched silently as your father winnowed away, you turned towards the three males. They came over to you gathering around in a circle. You grabbed a hold of Rhys hand, and Cassian’s hand. Azriel stood across from you holding onto Cassian’s and Rhys as well. You looked at each of them taking in this moment before your friends would join.

“I love you all, and I need you to know that before this battle. If one of us doesn’t make it…” You closed your eyes trying to hold back your tears. “I couldn’t go onto that battlefield not admitting to you all that I love you. Regardless of the mating bond not yet snapping for me and Rhys, I love you.”

“We love you too, darling Y/N.” Rhys said, squeezing your hand tightly. You smiled at him as the others joined in the circle and more words were spoken.

───── ❝ ◂ ❚ ⊱ꕥ⊰ ❚ ▸ ❞ ─────

The battle had raged on, you were separated from Rhysand, Azriel, and Cassian. Blood, mud, and grim covered your body and you knew you’d need a bath after this was over. The bond was over the place causing you to panic. You could feel strings tying you to three males, tying you to Azriel, Cassian, and finally Rhysand. A little laugh left your mouth as you threw your sword into one of the Hybern men.

But it didn’t last, something was wrong you could feel it. You knew Cassian had been injured, Rhys had told you via thoughts. But this was Rhys, you could feel something wrong. Especially when his voice came in through your mind and sure enough Cassian and Azriel as well, he was using the bond between the four of you.

“I love you all.” He whispered in your minds. “I love you, more than anything.”

Helion was suddenly next to you, arms wrapping around you he winnowed to where Rhys had been with Feyre. You let go of your father running over to your mate sliding down on your knees.

“He offered his power to allow me to repair the Cauldron.” Feyre’s voice was running through your ears but you couldn’t hear it because you couldn’t feel Rhys, seconds later Az and Cass were there. Tears in their eyes as they looked down at their dead mate.

“No. No. No. Rhys, come back to me, come back to us. Please, we can’t lose you.” You cried out pulling the male into your body. You couldn’t feel anything, couldn’t feel him through the bond, couldn't feel a heartbeat. He was gone, and this was the worst feeling in the world for you, for Azriel, and for Cassian. The two were on their knees watching you cry over Rhys. Tarquin and Helion kneeled down next to you.

“He’s gone, Y/N.” Helion said first, a sob followed after the words left his mouth. You looked at the two High Lord’s as they stared at you.

“No.” You said, shaking your head, tears falling down your cheeks.

“I’m sorry.” Tarquin spoke.

You looked back at Rhysand as those words broke you. You screamed at the top of your lungs, as loud as you could. Power flowed through your body, it lit up covering every inch of you as you screamed for the loss of a mate. Tarquin and Helion backed away from you, the power pushed out of your body and turned into an orb shooting to the sky before bursting into a firework. You rested your forehead on his. Finally Azriel moved over to you, as did Cassian despite his injury. The two tried to pull you from Rhysand so they could hold onto you but you refused.

“Bring him back.” You shouted, looking at the lords around you. This was not ending, this was not meant to be the ending he got. Not when you had finally felt the bond between you and Rhysand. Not when the four of you could finally be happy together after so long. The High Lords didn’t say anything, you could only feel their gazes on you. “Bring him back. You did it for Feyre, you can do it for him.”

“She was human.” Helion said, looking down at you. He could see the heartbreak over your entire face. Over your mates faces as well. “It is not the same─”

“I don’t care. Do it. I can’t lose him, I won’t. Please, father.” You looked up at him, the words escaping your lips before you could stop them. Helion felt his heart squeeze tightly at the new title. It had been something he never imagined could be possible until this moment.

Your eyes found Feyre, you didn’t need to say anything to understand what she would do to help you, Cassian and Azriel get your mate back. Tarquin stepped forward, eyes on you.

“For what he gave,” Tarquin whispered. “Today and for many years before.” You watched as a seed of light appeared in Tarquin’s palm. More tears escaped from your eyes rolling down your cheeks as you watched the light fall down into Rhys’ throat vanishing into his skin. One by one the High Lords started to offer up a seed of light repeating what Tarquin had done. You heard Feyre talking but were trying to feel out the bond for Rhys to listen in.

When Tamlin came up she begged for you, the two of you had become best of friends over the last few months and while she couldn’t understand the loss of a mate because Ryder was right next to her he understood the pain of almost losing a mate. Feyre couldn’t let you go through that pain. You glanced at Tamlin as he dropped the seed of light into Rhys’ mouth.

“Thank you.” You whispered.

“Take care of her.” Tamlin said, as he looked back at Feyre while Ryder held onto her.

“I will.” You placed your head on his chest, closing your eyes, waiting. Cassian and Azriel kept their eyes trained on Rhysand also waiting. In fact everyone had been waiting. But you could feel it, the thud of the bond growing brighter and brighter for the four of you. You glanced at Az and Cass to see the same reaction on their faces. Then you felt it, the graze of his hand on your back. A soft touch and something you never wanted to let go of.

Then Rhys groaned, “If we’re all here, either things went very, very wrong or very right.” Cassian released a broken laugh, he and Azriel placed a hand on top of your hand that was connected to Rhys’. You didn’t let Rhys go, nor did you open your eyes to look at him. You breathed him in as you felt his heart beat against his chest, against your ear. The tears still streamed down your face, but were falling onto his leathers. “You lot will be pleased to know… My power remains my own. No thieving here.”

“You do know how to make an entrance,” Helion started. “Or should I say exit.” That earned a glare from you, your eyes had opened and you had looked up at your father.

“You’re horrible.” Viviane snapped. “That’s not even remotely funny.”

“I meant no harm by it.” Helion paused and became serious as he looked down at the three males that would soon become his son-in-laws once they were mated to his daughter. “Do not hurt her like that again. And that goes for you Shadowsinger, and you General.” The three males gave a nod to your father. Finally Rhysand called your name, for the first time since he had come back you looked at him.

“I’m here, my loves.” He said as he looked at the three of you. His violet eyes lingered on you.

“Good, I don’t want to see what would’ve happened if you hadn’t come back.” Cassian whispered.

“So, does this mean we can finally accept the mating bond?” Rhys asked, a smirk on his lips as he continued to switch at who he was looking at. You looked at Azriel who gave a nod, then at Cassian who did the same. Finally you looked back at Rhys.

“If it means we get forever together then I can’t wait to accept the mating bond. I don’t wish to live in a world where none of you exist. And I don’t wish to live another day without being able to call you mine forever.” You smiled at them, the smile never leaving your lips even as you returned back home.

Part 2

#reader insert #x reader #rhysand x reader #azriel x reader #cassian x reader #rhysand x cassian #rhysand x azriel #a court of thorns and roses #helion acotar #bat boys x reader #acotar x reader

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fcthots · 4 months

Note

Happy New Year!! I wish you the best of luck and prosperity in the New Year!

Have you thought about teasing Jason? Maybe making him read one of his favorite books out loud as you tease him til he can’t remember the words?

happy new year!!

Anon, you genius. I am a Jason loves teasing you truther, but I hadn't even considered the possibilities of you teasing Jason. And now that I am, he would not be able to take it for long. He would get so whiny and xhibedcd i have so many ideas for this, it's hard to pick one.

I'll proofread this later. <3.

It's not that Jason doesn't pay you enough attention, you take up 75% of his thoughts, but when Jason starts reading, it takes up all of his focus. It's damn near impossible to get his attention. Good thing you love a challenge.

When you walk into the living room, he's seated comfortably on the couch. A well worn book rests in his hands. He is so engrossed in it that he doesn't seem to notice your presence. You'll have to fix that.

"What are you reading?" He doesn't quite jump, but his eyes shoot up. There's something to be said about how he's so comfortable around you that his guards is completely let down. That does something to your insides.

"Just some poetry." It's such a vague answer that it piques your interest.

"What kind?" You step closer to him. His eyes track you.

"Some love letters. It's Letters to Milena by Franz Kafka." He'd spoken of the book before you think.

"Thinking about me while you read?" You climb onto the couch and straddle him. One of his hands moves to your waist on instinct.

His face dusts with a light blush. He doesn't respond, seemingly at a loss for words. You wrap your arms around his neck. He stutters for a moment, but never quite makes a full word. You smile. He's getting so riled up and you've barely done anything.

"Read it to me." His brows furrow and he fumbles with the pages. You dip your face into the crook of his neck and softly bite down. His breathing grows deeper and faster.

He stutters at first, struggling to find his place in the book. Eventually he finds it. "Yesterday, I advised you not to write me every day," You feel him grow hard beneath you, "I still hold the same opinion today and-"

You grind down onto him. His head tilts back, moving your face away from his neck, as he makes a sound between a whine and a moan. You lift your hips away from his and he opens his mouth to say something, but you speak first. "Keep going."

He nods obediently. His movements are shaky, pent up and nervous. "it would be very good for both of us," You drop your hips back onto his and he gasps, but doesn't stop, "and so I repeat my advice today even more-..." His voice trails off as your hand drops from his shoulder to down into your pants. He watches you with something akin to reverence as you slip the pants and underwear off together (with some difficulty). You drop them to the floor. Jason shudders beneath you. "Wait." His voice is whiny as he pants beneath you. "Please," one of his hands moves to the hem of your shirt and tugs, "take this off. Need to see you, please."

You start tugging it over your head. "Only if you keep reading." He nods vigorously and you unclasp your bra.

"Emphatically- only please," his voice hitches when display your tits in his face, you bring one hand to your chest and roll a nipple between your fingers, making a show of throwing your head back and pushing your chest towards his face with a breathy moan. "Milena," you grind against him and he stutters for a moment. You move the other hand back between your legs and begin to work yourself open, starting with two fingers, in and out. He continues and his hooded eyes watch your every move. He doesn't need to look at the book to know the words. "Don't listen to me, and write me every day anyway," you add another finger to your rhythmic motions that brush against his length, "it can even be very brief," you add in your pinky finger and Jason makes a pathetic little whiny sound that is music to your ears.

You undo the drawstring of his sweatpants and push them further down his thighs. Putting his book down, he shimmies his hips to help you get the pants down, as impatient as ever. As soon as he cock springs free, you urge him, "Keep going."

He watches, trying his best to keep talking, as you lift your hips and bring his tip to your folds. Your other hand staying occupied on your chest. His hands anchor themselves on your waist, "briefer than today's letters," he moans out as you begin to slightly push yourself down. He soldiers on, "just 2 lines," you slide down even more. You do your best to keep your own moans under control, you want to be able to watch him. You've worked yourself enough so he slides in easily, the stretch not painful. He feels good.

He can't form words while you take your time bottoming out on his cock. Once, you've sat your full weight on him, he can't tear his eyes away from where your bodies join. One of his hands slides down until his thumb reaches your clit. He's distracted, entranced, by you. You struggle to keep your composure. "Keep reading."

His eyes stay focused on his thumb as it circles your clit. "Just one," you move your hips up and snap them down. Pleasure blooms in your chest and you hear Jason curse and breathe faster. "Just one word," you find a rhythm moving up and down on his dick. His voice constantly wavers and he moans between words. "But if I had to go ah without them," the length between each word gets longer and longer as you move faster and faster and he gets closer and closer. He struggles to get even one word out.

"Finish it and I'll let you finish." You're getting close now too, his demeanor clearly having an effect on you. His thumb speeds up.

He nods, unable to hold himself back for much longer. "I would suffer terribly." He says the words fast, all in one breath as he begins to thrust up into you. You clench around him as he lets out a loud moan. You cum together as he spills out of you. His head tosses back and his thumb stills and he twitches through the last waves of his orgasm. You drop your head onto his shoulder and slouch against his chest. His arms curl around you and he kisses whatever skin he can reach. You legs burn and your knees ache, but you have nothing to be worried about. Jason will take care of you.

Also disclaimer! I have not read the book yet! I plan on getting it soon bc I've been wanting to read it for years, but have yet to read the full thing full so that's why it's undetailed.

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rynwritesreid · 13 days

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Heaven’s Gate| Spencer Reid

A/N: MGG and Theo James will forever be the most attractive men to me. How can they both co-exist in this world?! Anyway, I hope everyone is doing amazing, and yes I don’t know any of you irl, but I love each and every one of you, and thank you for 1k followers. I hope you are all having the day you deserve, and please if anyone at anytime wants to talk about anything and everything, I am always 100% down to do that 🫶🏼 Jag älskar dig.

Request: Too Sweet by Hozier from the lovely @ladylincoln . On requests, I’ve had one to do head cannons/drabbles/etc about pregnant R! With the cm men, if anyone else requests for these please let me know, as I will be doing these requests v soon!:)

Summary: Spencer Reid truly loves you, but is questioning if this relationship if fulfilling for the both of you. However, after he realises he wants to be with you, you think it should be better to break up anyway because you think he deserves someone better!

Content: F!reader. This is mainly fluff, but there is angst and mature themes. MDNI 18+. Light dom/sub themes. Talks of breaking up. Caring/loving Spencer. Insecure reader. Based on too sweet by Hozier

Masterlist|requests are open|Navigation

Spencer Reid loves you, he truly does. You are, in almost every sense of the word, perfect. He fully believes that if you had met him 10/15 years ago, then you two would be the perfect match. But Spencer is not the person he was back then, now. Why would he be? He’s been through so much, that no one can blame him for changing. He just sees the world differently now, and that is okay.

His friends, they loved you. They often described you as the perfect mix between Reid and Garcia. You were highly empathic, incredibly smart, amazing with technology, loving and compassionate, you have a beautiful personality and the most incredible smile. Spencer knew almost everyone who knew you, loves you.

And while Spencer loves you, he wished you were more experienced, or well to put it better, he wished you were more mature. You viewed the world through rose tinted glasses, and that nobody can be truly evil. He did love that about you, but he knew it wasn’t true. The world and humanity can be evil, and he didn’t know how to break that to you, and he knew that if you stayed with him, that your version of reality would be shattered.

Spencer had also taken note that vocally you were very confident. You loved speaking, you were very well spoken, and your voice is soft and calming, everyone loved listening to you speak. But you were very self-conscious about your body image. Most people wouldn’t notice it, but Spencer had spent a lot of time admiring you, and he had picked up on the fact that you wouldn’t let people stare at your body for too long.

Spencer tried to find the right words to express his concerns to you. He knew you deserved honesty, but he also feared hurting you. Spencer didn’t want to break up with you, but he didn’t know if he could wait for you to become more bitter towards the world or if he really wanted you to be, less sweet.

So, as he sat next to you, listening to you tell all his friends the most amazing stories, waiting for you to notice his hand on your thigh, his mind wondered as what to say to you, or if he was going to say anything at all.

But deep down, Spencer knew he couldn't keep his feelings bottled up any longer. As he felt the warmth of your hand enveloping his on your thigh, he turned to look into your eyes. The love and admiration that shone in them brought a pang of guilt to his heart.

"Hey, can we talk for a moment?" Spencer's voice was soft, hesitant.

You turned to face him, concern flickering across your features. "Of course, Spencer. What's on your mind?"

Taking a deep breath, Spencer gathered his thoughts before speaking. "I... I've been thinking a lot lately about us. About you. You're incredible, and I care about you more than words can express. But I can't ignore the fact that there are things we need to address."

Your brow furrowed slightly, sensing the seriousness in Spencer's tone. "What do you mean?"

"I mean..." Spencer paused, searching for the right words. "I see how compassionate and kind you are, and it's one of the things I love most about you. But I also see how the world has a way of changing people. I worry that your view of the world might shift in a way that... that might hurt you." Spencer's voice faltered slightly, his gaze never leaving yours.

You listened intently, feeling a knot form in your stomach. "Spencer, are you saying you don't think we're right for each other because of how I see things?"

"No, no, that's not what I'm saying at all," Spencer rushed to clarify. "I just... I want us to be able to navigate through everything together. To be open and honest with each other, even when it's difficult."

“Spencer Reid, I thought you were breaking up with me.” You felt at ease now knowing he didn’t want to break up with you, but you were still on edge. "Never," Spencer replied quickly, his eyes wide with sincerity. "I could never imagine my life without you in it. I just want us to be able to grow together, to face whatever challenges come our wayside by side. I love you more than words can convey, and I want us to have a future together where we can both be our true selves, no matter what life throws at us."

Your eyes softened as you took in his words, a wave of relief washing over you. You were at a loss for words, this man was far too perfect for you. “Spence, I’m ready to go home now. But you can stay with your friends if you’d like.” Your voice still soft, but Spencer could tell there was a hint of sadness.

As Spencer gazed into your eyes, he felt a surge of love and determination. Without hesitation, he stood up, offering you his hand. “You think I’m about to let you go home and cry because you thought I was going to break up with you? No way. I’m coming back with you.” he said softly, a reassuring smile playing on his lips.

It was a quiet journey back, neither of you speaking a word to one another. It wasn’t uncomfortable or awkward, but it was more like you both comfortable with each other.

Once you were back at your apartment, Spencer broke the silence “You know, you shouldn’t be self-conscious. I wish you could see yourself the way everyone else sees you.”

You looked up at Spencer, a mixture of surprise and curiosity in your eyes. His words touched you deeply, a warmth spreading through your chest at his sincerity. "Spencer, I... I don't know what to say," you began, feeling a lump form in your throat. "I've never had someone care for me the way you do."

Spencer took a step closer to you, his gaze unwavering. "Well, get used to it because I'm not going anywhere," he said with a small smile that reached his eyes.

Tears welled up in your eyes as you reached out to cup his face in your hands. "Thank you," you whispered, overwhelmed by the depth of emotion swirling between you two.

In that moment, surrounded by the quiet of your apartment and the gentle illumination of soft lamplight, Spencer pulled you into a tender embrace. He gave you a small kiss, one that he knew he would be able to give you again and again.

“Spencer.” You paused for a brief second, you felt your eyes welling up once again. “Maybe we should break up. You deserve someone who knows what you’ve been through. Someone who is the perfect match for you.”

Spencer's heart skipped a beat at your words, the air in the room growing heavy with unexpected sorrow. He pulled back slightly to meet your gaze, his eyes searching yours for any hint of doubt. "No, no," he whispered, his voice laced with urgency. "You are everything I never knew I needed. You bring light into my world, and I can't imagine my life without you in it." Spencer's hand reached up to gently brush away a tear that escaped down your cheek.

You shook your head, feeling conflicted and overwhelmed by emotions. "But what if I'm not enough for you? What if my inexperience or naivety holds you back from finding true happiness?" Your voice quivered with uncertainty as you voiced your deepest fears.

Spencer's expression softened, his thumb caressing your cheek tenderly. "You are more than enough for me," he murmured, his eyes filled with unwavering sincerity. "I don't want someone else. I want you.”

Spencer grabbed your face, making sure you were making direct eye contact with him. “Don’t ever say or think that you are not good enough for me.” He didn’t let you respond before pulling you in for a kiss. But this was deep, and unforgiving. He wanted you to know he meant it.

As the kiss deepened, a flood of emotions washed over you. You felt the intensity of Spencer's love and devotion in that single moment, a reassurance that erased any lingering doubts in your mind. His lips were firm yet gentle against yours.

But Spencer wasn’t finished, he wanted to prove to you how perfect you are to him, and he wanted you to regret thinking you weren’t good enough for him.

He broke the kiss, his eyes locking onto yours with a fierce determination. "I want to show you just how much you mean to me," Spencer whispered, his voice husky with emotion. Without hesitation, he took your hand and led you to the bedroom.

"Spencer," you whispered, feeling a rush of emotions welling up inside you.

He silenced you with a soft kiss, his lips moving against yours with a tenderness that spoke volumes. With each caress, each touch, Spencer conveyed his feelings for you in a language that needed no words.

Spencer unbuttoned your shirt, revealing your prink bra underneath. “How could anyone this beautiful, be self-conscious about themselves.” His voice still husky but filled with admiration. As he started to strip you from the rest of your clothes, his eyes wondering your body, but he wasn’t allowing you to hide from him.

Spencer gently laid you down on the bed, his gaze never leaving yours. He traced the curve of your cheek with his thumb, a soft smile playing on his lips as he took in your beauty.

“Now what can I do to show you, you are enough. That you are the most beautiful woman I have ever laid my eyes upon?” Spencer trailed off, his eyes reflecting a mix of desire and adoration as he leaned in to kiss you once more.

Another A/N: I’ve recently got into playing ACNH(I know I’m late) so if anybody wants to be friends on there please let me know:)

~Join my taglist~

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#spencer reid fluff #spencer reid #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid smut #spencer reid angst #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid x you #criminal minds #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid criminal minds #criminal minds fandom #bau team

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xjoonchildx · 2 months

Text

kanalia | jhs x reader | final chapter: because i couldn't stay away

banner by the amazing @kth1 💕

⚜️summary: secrets and uncertainty plague a young queen in her arranged marriage to a kind but distant king. the farther she drifts from her husband, the closer she gets to one of his most trusted men.

⚜️pairing: queen!reader x royalguard!hoseok

⚜️rating: mature, 18+

⚜️genre: royal AU, historical AU, smut

⚜️warnings: infidelity (it’s complicated, y’all) mentions of pregnancy, fertility issues. OC struggles with depressive thoughts and episodes. smut warnings in effect.

⚜️word count: 10.2K

⚜️author's note: happy birthday month to my forever muse, jung hoseok. i hope that i did this poor, tortured version of you some justice. and yes, it did take me years to finish this story (😭) , but i did. thank you to every single who has ever taken an interest in this story and cared enough to stick with me through long delays and rough writing spells. once again, i have to shout out the OG @hobi-gif who lent her eyes to part of this story. i appreciate you all so much and if you enjoyed it, i would very much appreciate a reblog as well as your feedback.

thank you guys so, so much 💕

previous chapter masterlist

Love doesn't discriminate Between the sinners and the saints It takes and it takes and it takes And we keep loving anyway We laugh and we cry and we break And we make our mistakes And if there's a reason I'm by her side When so many have tried Then I'm willing to wait for it I'm willing to wait for it

– “Wait for It”

Hamilton, An American Musical

⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️

One perfect loop is followed by another. And another. And another.

You need not look back and check your work, not anymore. Now you know simply by the pull of the thread that each stitch you place is snug and uniform. You sit in your chair by the fire and repeat the motion over and over again, staring unseeing into the pattern in your lap.

“It’s a beautiful day, Your Grace.”

Hyeri’s voice taps at the edges of your consciousness, muffled as though she’s standing outside the chamber door instead of seated right beside you. You ignore it and push another loop through the fabric.

“Not a cloud in the sky,” she persists, gentle. “Perfect conditions for a walk, if you feel up to it. I could even accompany you, if you wish?”

There was a time, not long ago, when Hyeri’s prodding would have set your teeth on edge. But you do not have the energy to muster any such emotion. And so you give Hyeri the same answer you’d given her the day before. And the day before that one. The same hushed words, spoken in the same decisive tone.

“I’m content to stay in today, Hyeri. Thank you.”

“Very well, Your Grace.”

She drops the matter with a quiet sigh.

It’s unlike her. The Hyeri you know would fret and fuss for as long as it took for you to relent; until you had no choice but to quit your chamber simply to enjoy a moment’s peace. The Hyeri you know would be shooing you away from the fire, prattling on about how one errant thread could catch and send your entire dress up in flames.

But the Hyeri seated beside you does none of those things.

So you sink deeper into the plush chair perched in front of the hearth and watch the flames dance. The embers at the base of the fire glow deep red, putting off a heat blistering enough to scorch your bare feet.

But you cannot feel it. You cannot feel anything.

You’ve surrendered to the weariness now; let it consume you. Allowed it to fuse itself to the very marrow of your bones. For days you’ve done little beyond sleep and spend your few waking hours seated by the fire, needle in hand.

Twice you’ve left your chamber and neither time by choice, but rather because the King had insisted on your presence at dinner. To what end you still cannot be sure seeing as you’d taken both meals in stilted, awkward silence. Apparently His Grace is far less bold without a bit of ale in him.

“The hunting party leaves in three days' time,” Hyeri says. “There’s been quite a fuss in the kitchens over it. They’re taking enough supplies to travel for months, by the looks of it.”

You make a non-committal sound under your breath. Hyeri forges on, undeterred.

“There will be a send-off in the courtyard, of course. Will you – “ she pauses to choose her words carefully. “ – Well, I assume that you’ll want to see the King off.”

You do not want to see the King off. Were it not for his pigheaded adamance that you keep up appearances for the sake of this sham marriage, you’d be content to never see him again. But you’ll not tell Hyeri that. Not when she’s made it clear where her loyalties lie and not when she still holds on to the delusion that one day you’ll decide to embrace your role as the placeholder by the King’s side.

So you say nothing at all. The fire pops as one of the logs crumbles in the hearth.

Hyeri clears her throat. “Your Grace, I only want what’s best for you. Surely you know that by now? And I don’t want people casting aspersions, which they most certainly will do if you’re not there to see the King off. The staff is already asking questions about why you’ve not been seen in days.”

“Has he asked for me?”

Hyeri blinks. “The King?”

“Yes, Hyeri,” you say slowly. “The King. Has His Grace requested my presence at this send-off ceremony?”

The color seems to drain from her soft face as she admits, “No, Your Grace. He hasn’t.”

“Then I see no point in worrying yourself over the matter.”

You return your attention to your needlework and place another yellow thread in the center of your Mugunghwa flower’s pistil. The flames crackle in perfect, undisturbed silence.

⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️

“It’s cold out there today,” Hyeri says. “But if you bundle up tight, it’s quite pleasant in the sunshine.”

“Thank you, Hyeri,” you reply evenly. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

It’s a lie, and you both know it. You have no intention of leaving this chamber today and much to your relief, the King did not require your presence at his evening meal the night prior. Hyeri had ordered your dinner sent up and then proceeded to dine with you herself. An insidious voice inside your mind whispers she’s afraid to leave you alone.

You ignore it.

Instead you try to focus on your Mugunghwa flower. You study it, blinking until the riot of colors before you has clear, defined boundaries – fiery crimson at the center which slowly bleeds into a subdued pink which in turn dissipates into a milky white. You pull fresh white thread through your needle and set to work on the flower’s edges.

“Your needlework is much improved, Your Grace,” Hyeri notes. “You’ll be finished with that pattern by the end of the day, as I see it.”

You thumb over the fabric and consider her assessment. She’s right, you’ll be done with this pattern in a matter of hours. And the only thing that awaits on the other side is another pattern. And another. On and on and on.

“Perhaps when you’re done, you’ll consider mending this for me,” Hyeri says, gesturing towards her lap. “My eyesight is not what it used to be. I’m terrified of ruining the old man’s beautiful design.”

You set your embroidery down and turn to look at Hyeri, gaze falling to the opulent plum fabric in her hands. Slowly, the details sharpen into focus. The rich velvet trim. The gold threads glinting back at you in the firelight. The room begins to tilt.

“A footman found it in the woods last night,” Hyeri explains, her cadence slow and deliberate. “By the stables.”

You are keenly aware of the way she watches you in the weighty seconds that follow, one gray eyebrow lifted as she awaits a response. You do your best to appear calm despite the panic clawing its way up your throat.

You’d lost that shawl in your mad dash back to the castle. You’d been tearing through the dark, paying little heed to the branches that tugged at your dress and occasionally scraped at your hands and face. One of them had caught the shawl, but you’d been so desperate to reach the refuge of your chamber that you’d hardly noticed when it was wrenched away. You’d had, after all, your humiliation to keep you warm.

And you’d earned it, hadn’t you? With your drunkenness. With your recklessness. You’d let every one of your baser emotions take control. You’d risked every advantage of your carefully curated life just to throw yourself like a wanton at the feet of one of your husband’s closest confidantes. Like a fool.

When Lord Jung turned on his heels that night and abandoned you in the woods, he’d done far more than just rebuff your clumsy advances.

He’d finished you.

“Your Grace?” Hyeri’s curiosity is evident. “Are you alright?”

Hardly. Your mouth waters as your stomach threatens to cast up what little you’ve eaten today. One glimpse of that garment had been enough to bring a torrent of memories rushing back; vivid, awful memories that you’ve worked hard to banish to the deepest recesses of your mind. You grip the arm of your chair hard enough to make your knuckles go white.

“Your Grace?”

You don’t answer until you’re sure that you won’t retch the very moment you open your mouth. Hyeri studies you in the interminable silence, lips parted in an expression of concern. Your tongue is thick when you finally collect yourself enough to speak.

“Please do thank the footman for me, Hyeri. And I think it best to leave the more intricate needlework to you.”

Hyeri stares as you reach for your needle and thread with trembling hands, but you don’t dare look her way. You try to place a loop at the edge of your flower but the Mugunghwa’s colors have gone blurry again and you’re forced to back the needle out and start over.

Perhaps there was a time when the Mugunghwa was as vivid as a rose. With petals of rich orange-red, opaque from pistil to tip. But perhaps it was asked to weather too many storms. Too many droughts. Too many winters.

Perhaps the Mugunghwa looks the way it does today not because of how it was made, but rather what it’s had to endure.

⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️

The first snow of the season arrives early.

You stand at your window and watch it fall, noting how quickly the fields turn from green to white. You press your fingertips to the windowpane and the cold seeps through it, chilling you instantly.

In the courtyard below, the horses are draped in heavy blankets. Stablehands scurry around them; dusting snow off their muzzles and checking their shoes. Footmen work in teams, sharing the weight of the heavy trunks they load on to waiting carts.

“I’ll wear the blue walking dress today, Hyeri. The one with the white flowers on the bodice.”

“Your Grace?” Hyeri is on her feet at once to join you at the window. “You’ll see the king off, then?”

“I’ll need the matching cape too,” you direct, brushing her question aside as you watch the newly-packed trunks take on a layer of white snow. “If the conditions are as awful as they look.”

“Yes of course,” Hyeri breathes, hurriedly whirling about the chamber behind you as she gathers your things. In a matter of minutes she has you dressed and seated, fingers twisting your hair into a plait at the base of your neck. She loops the plait and pins it into an elegant bun, fingers smoothing the hairs into place before her hands come to rest on your shoulders. She squeezes them gently.

“I’ll not ask you why you’ve changed your mind, Your Grace,” she says softly. “But I’m so glad for it. It’s important that people see you. For them, of course, but for you most of all. And besides, you look so lovely.”

You don’t feel lovely. In fact, you don’t feel anything at all. And if Hyeri had pressed you as to why you’ve changed your mind, she’d not be satisfied with your answer. You’ve changed your mind because you cannot bear to cause more conflict with the King. Because you have no desire to create a scandal that you’ll somehow have to fix. You’ve changed your mind because you have no fight in you left. This is the path of least resistance.

You rise from your seat and Hyeri’s hands fall away. She clutches them to her chest, rheumy eyes soft with sadness as she watches you take your place at the window once again. Outside the snow falls harder, and you watch the footmen leave deep divots in it with their boots.

“Tell me when it’s time,” you say quietly.

⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️

You can scarcely recognize anyone in the throng of well-wishers gathered outside the castle.

They’re all bundled tight in winter coats and pelts; some wear hats and scarves. The snow doesn’t help either, and from the moment you enter the courtyard you’re grateful for your cape. Not only for the warmth of its thick lining, but for its hood, too. It affords you a bit of privacy in this otherwise very public affair.

You weave your way through the crowd and do your best not to make eye contact with anyone. Surely Boram is among those gathered with sweet Yeona in tow, here to see Lord Min off on his adventure. But you cannot bring yourself to seek her out – not when she’s already called on you twice without so much as an explanation for your disappearance. At any rate, you don’t think you could bear to look at her right now. To see the worry and concern you know you’ll find written all over her face.

So you keep your hood pulled tight and your eyes down as you set off in search of the King. And you have no trouble finding him despite your reticence to make your presence known. It’s not just that he stands a head taller than most. It’s in his stature, in his stance – in that self-assured air that seems to come naturally to those born with power. He catches sight of you as he’s speaking to a footman and pauses, gaze locking on yours.

Your legs feel heavy. Your boots sink into the snow as you approach, each step more tiring than the last. When you are finally standing before the King you bow, dipping your head as you peer at him from beneath your hood.

“Your Grace,” he murmurs, lips twitching into a cautious half-smile. “I wasn’t sure you’d come down to say goodbye.”

“And yet I have,” you respond evenly. A snowflake lands on one of his long eyelashes and you resist the urge to reach out and sweep it away. “So I do very much hope that you are pleased.”

“I am pleased.”

The King reaches for your gloved hand. He waits a heartbeat before bringing it to his mouth and pressing a kiss to your leather-clad fingers. Beneath your hood, your cheeks burn. You withdraw your hand quickly and let it fall to your side.

“Well. Then. I wish you a comfortable journey,” you say. “As well as a safe return.”

The two of you stand there for an awkward moment, the King’s expression expectant as though he’s waiting for you to say more. But you have no more to say. The words you’ve already offered him will do. They’re as empty as the vows you’d exchanged little more than a year ago.

“We ought to head out, Your Grace. We’re losing precious daylight and this weather will slow us as it is.”

The voice comes from somewhere in your periphery, but you need not see the man to know exactly who it is. Suddenly each breath you draw is painful, the frigid air pricking your lungs like a thousand tiny needles. You will yourself not to turn towards it, not to react in any way.

“You’re right.” The King acknowledges Lord Jung with a brusque nod. “Have the stablehands check over the horses one more time.”

You won’t look at him. You can’t look at him. Not when the sound of his voice reverberates through every wounded place inside of you. Not when you can close your eyes and still feel the hot trickle of embarrassment that slid down your spine that night in the woods. But then he leaves you with no other choice.

“Your Grace.”

The low timbre of Lord Jung’s greeting makes the fine hairs at the nape of your neck stand on end. You turn to him, slowly, and his dark eyes briefly connect with yours before he bends into a shallow bow. Your knees nearly give way when you return the gesture, along with a subdued, “My Lord.”

What must this man think of you now? What has he told the King? The nausea you’ve managed to stave off for days returns at once.

You startle when a gloved hand wraps around your forearm and the King beckons you to face him. You flick your eyes up to meet his and find that they – along with his countenance – have darkened. By now Lord Jung is yards away, tending to his horse as the hunting party readies to embark. Your lungs ache with each deep pull of cold air.

“Is something wrong?”

“No, no. Not at all,” you insist, contriving a weak laugh. “I’m not accustomed to this kind of cold, is all. I’ll need to go back inside to get warm.”

The King’s brows furrow as he studies you. But you maintain your mild expression until his face relaxes and the disquiet subsides. He leans in to place a chaste kiss to your cheek.

“Hyeri assures me you’ll be well taken care of in my absence.”

You lift the corners of your mouth in a gesture that you hope will pass for a smile.

“Thank you, Your Grace. Be well.”

⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️

Hyeri does not protest when you ask to undress upon your return to the chamber. Nor does she fuss when you climb into bed with the morning sun still high in the sky. She simply presses a soft kiss to your hair, draws the curtains tight and leaves you with a whispered rest well.

⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️

Your chamber is dark when you wake but for the soft glow of a fire.

As you come to, so does an ache in your temples, a quiet thud that pulses in time with your heartbeat. Your muscles protest as you roll onto your side to find Hyeri seated at the hearth.

She’s yet to realize that you’ve roused and so you lie there for a while, studying her. She has a strange, far-away look in her eyes as she stares into the flames, her grip tight on a book in her lap. After a few minutes she opens the book and begins to thumb through it and you watch, curious, as she pulls a worn piece of vellum from between its pages.

She unfolds the missive and reads over it, face crumpling as she fights back a sob.

“Hyeri?”

The older woman nearly jumps out of her skin when you call out to her. She hastily folds the vellum and slips it back into her book, smoothing down her dress as she stands at attention. “Your Grace,” she says, voice huskier than usual, “I hadn’t realized you were awake.”

“It’s alright,” you say absently, voice rough with sleep. You steal a look at the book left lying in Hyeri’s chair as she hurries over to bring you some water. Her countenance is that of someone who’s been caught doing something they shouldn’t have. You stare at the glass she offers you, watching the water slosh back and forth.

Is she trembling?

“You ought to eat something,” she admonishes gently, waving a hand towards the food waiting on the table nearby. “You slept through the evening meal. I had my mind made up to wake you if you’d gone much longer, but thankfully I didn’t have to. So come,” she beckons, “Eat something. It will do you some good.”

Your stomach twinges at the mention of food. It’s been in upheaval for days now, and as such it’s been far too long since you had a proper meal. But whatever awaits in the dishes nearby smells enticing enough, so you allow Hyeri to help you out of bed. Your muscles are stiff with disuse and you grimace as you make your way to the table. Your eagle-eyed handmaid takes note.

“A long, hot bath will do you some good, too,” Hyeri remarks as you spoon lukewarm bulgogi onto your plate. You eat slowly as she busies herself with lighting the torches and stripping the linens from your bed. “I’ll have the maids bring up the water after you’ve had a chance to eat.”

You’ve only managed a few bites of the bulgogi before there’s an army of maids filing into the chamber, flitting about the room like a swarm of bees. You watch the entire affair in a daze as the maids make quick work of the tasks set before them: tidying and sweeping the chamber, draping your bed in fresh linens, filling the tub with steaming hot water. And when all the commotion is finally done, Hyeri dismisses them with strict orders not to return unless they are sent for.

You are grateful at once for the silence that immediately falls over the chamber. Even Hyeri leaves you for a while, disappearing into the antechamber to prepare your toilette. But when you glance over at her chair, Hyeri’s book is gone. Along with whatever was written on the vellum inside.

“Come now, Your Grace,” Hyeri says, at last. “I’m ready for you.”

She leads you into the bathing chamber, where the air is humid and sweet. Then she helps you out of your rumpled nightgown and holds out her hand. You accept it, leaning into her as you step over the tub’s steep rim. Slowly you ease yourself down, sucking in a breath as the heat blazes a path up your feet to your legs and thighs. The water is hot almost to the point of pain but you withstand it, sinking until it laps at your shoulders.

“I used rose oil tonight,” Hyeri says, kneeling behind you and cupping your head in her hands. “I thought you could do with a bit of pampering.”

The delicate fragrance envelopes you, carried on the curls of steam that rise just above the water. You breathe in the soft, floral scent and close your eyes; try to clear your mind. Hyeri presses her thumbs to your temples and starts making firm, soothing circles.

“I remember the very first moment I saw you,” Hyeri muses softly. “I’d been so impressed by your poise.” Her hands move to the column of your neck and she kneads at the tight muscles there, pulling the tension from them with each pass. “You were little more than a girl then, but I could still see that you were lovely, inside and out.”

Were you? You’re not sure that you would even recognize the girl that stepped out of that carriage so long ago. You’d been so idealistic – so certain of the comfortable life that you would find here. Of the affluence and status and yes, perhaps, even love that you’d enjoy once you’d ascended to the throne. But that girl had been a nitwit. The woman you are now will never entertain such foolish notions again.

“I know that so much of this has not been easy for you,” Hyeri continues, setting to work on your shoulders. “I know that there have been days when you’ve struggled to put one foot in front of the other. But you have. And that means something.”

It does mean something. It means that your mother’s great work is finally complete. She’d spent her entire life molding you into the polished, empty creature you are today. If only she could see you now; see how biddable and pathetic you’ve become. It would fill her to overflowing with joy.

“Anyhow, when you’ve lived as long as I have you realize that nothing is forever,” Hyeri says thoughtfully. “Same as what you’re going through right now, Your Grace. It won’t be forever.”

Nonsense. Hyeri cannot change the King’s heart. She cannot save you from a lifetime of awkward exchanges and forced smiles simply because she believes things can change. And she cannot will a child into your womb simply by decreeing that it should be so. The swell of emotion that surges inside you is more powerful than anything you’ve felt in days. And it’s anger.

“Hyeri, stop,” you order tersely. “No more.”

Her face falls at that, features going slack with dismay. But she heeds you, holding back whatever she’d meant to say next. Then she reaches for the soap and begins to wash your hair in silence. You chase the beads of oil that float along the surface of the water with a fingertip, cheeks hot with embarrassment. You hadn’t meant to be ugly to Hyeri.

But then you’ve done many things of late that you hadn’t meant to.

“I’m sorry,” you murmur.

“It’s alright, Your Grace. I know you meant no harm by it.” Hyeri dries her hands off and then rises to her feet, looking down at you with a kindness you do not deserve. “I’ll leave you to soak for a bit. You can have a few minutes of peace before I return.”

You’ve been unfair to her, haven’t you? The realization cuts you deep as you watch her retreat from the antechamber. She’s served you in so many ways since your arrival here: as caretaker and as advisor and as confidante. And how have you thanked her? By being cold and distant. By unleashing all the frustration and resentment you feel towards the King on her. And what of the tears you’d seen her hold back while she’d been sitting by the fire? Have you been so mired in your own anguish that you’ve neglected to see hers?

The water has begun to cool and your skin has begun to pebble by the time Hyeri returns.

“Forgive me, Your Grace,” she says upon her return, helping you out of the water. “The time got away from me. You must be freezing.”

“Only a little,” you lie, teeth chattering. Hyeri sets to drying you, throwing the damp linens on the floor to catch the rivulets of water that fall from your hair. Her dark eyes dart from your shoulders to your neck to your ears, but they do not meet yours.

“Is something wrong, Hyeri?”

“No, no. Not at all,” she answers quickly, “Just a bit tired.” Her reassurance rings hollow because she keeps her eyes trained on the floor as she bends to reach for the rose oil. When she straightens, you catch her hand with yours, stilling her.

“What were you reading tonight?”

Hyeri’s mouth opens in surprise and then quickly closes.

“I saw you sitting by the fire,” you admit. “You were reading something that looked to upset you.”

“And here I thought you were sleeping,” Hyeri grumbles, taking her hand back. She pours the oil into one palm and then warms it before pressing it to your neck, letting a long moment pass before she speaks.

“It didn’t upset me,” she explains. “Not in a sad way. Those were happy tears, I suppose.” She pours oil into your hands and begins to gently massage it into your fingers. “It was a letter from my Sanghun, back when he’d been courting me so many years ago. You might find this hard to believe, but I wasn’t always the old woman you see now. I had more than my fair share of suitors.”

It’s not hard to believe. Time has been kind to Hyeri. Her features, though soft with age, are still striking. She must have been quite fetching as a young woman.

“What made you choose Sanghun?” you ask.

“I don’t know that I had a choice in the matter at all,” she laughs as she helps you slip into a nightgown. “The moment I saw Sanghun, no other man existed for me. It was him or no one.” Her eyes go soft with a faraway look as she recounts the memory. “The other girls thought him too practical, too serious. But I saw a side of him that no one else saw. A part of him that was just for me.”

“You must miss him,” you say gently.

“Every day,” Hyeri admits. “Ten years he’s been gone and I think of him every day. Those letters remind me of what it’s like to be young and so in love that you’ll not see rhyme or reason. But –” she trails off and waves a hand as if fending off fresh tears. “Never mind that. Come sit.”

It’s unclear which of you she’s sparing from the memory. But as Hyeri begins working her comb through the lengths of your hair, you’re struck by how shortsighted you’ve been. There is suffering in never having the chance to love and be loved, certainly. But there is a different kind of suffering that comes with having that kind of love and then losing it. The thought humbles you.

Hyeri comes to stand behind you and begins working your wet hair into a loose plait.

“I’m sorry, Hyeri,” you say softly, gaze dropping to your hands. “I’m sorry that I haven’t thought to ask you about Sanghun. I haven’t been myself and I’ve just – “

Hyeri silences you with a soft hush. She secures your braid with a piece of linen and then drops to her knees to look her in the eye. “You have nothing to be sorry for,” she says softly, stroking a hand down the side of your face. “Nor do you owe anyone an explanation for feeling the things you feel.”

Her warmth thaws the frozen places inside you. It causes tears to spring to your eyes. And when she takes your hand in hers, you squeeze it gently — hoping that the gesture can convey the feelings you can’t put into words.

“Now put all of that behind you,” she says, smiling through her own unshed tears. “And come sit with me for a while.”

Hyeri leads the way into the chamber and you follow, only to stop short when the hearth comes into view.

When your gaze falls on the silhouetted figure near the fire, you nearly scream. You try to scream. But fear seizes your body, inch by inch – rooting your feet to the floor and closing around your throat like a shackle. You have no choice but stand there, staring in horrified silence as the figure begins to emerge from the shadows. In the span of one frantic heartbeat, the figure has a shape. In the next, it has a face.

And in the next, it has a name.

“H-Hyeri?” you stammer, swaying on your feet as your legs threaten to give way. Your handmaid doesn’t answer and so you call out again, voice quivering. “Hyeri?”

You cannot take your eyes off the man standing before you. He doesn’t speak, doesn’t move, and so you stare as the firelight flickers over his stark, beautiful features. Shadows dance across his clenched jaw and knit brow. And his eyes – those dark eyes you know so well are fathomless, inscrutable – smoldering coal set in unblemished, unforgiving stone.

“Hyeri!“ you call out to her again, desperate – reluctantly tearing your gaze from the man to look for her. And when your eyes finally land on Hyeri, you find your handmaid standing near the chamber door, hands clasped together tightly. Streaks of color running up the thin skin of her neck and into her soft cheeks.

But she’s not surprised, is she? Not flummoxed in any way by finding Lord Jung lying in wait inside your private rooms. The realization comes over you slowly, wholly, until a strangle tingle runs from your scalp to the tips of your fingers. She’s arranged this, hasn’t she?

“W-What is this?” The words leave you as more air than sound, but they ring out clear enough in the silence of your chamber. Lord Jung and Hyeri exchange a long look, but neither utters a sound.

“Someone speak!” you cry, wincing at the hysteria in your voice.

Hyeri finally clears her throat, her face now fully aflame. “I believe the two of you – “ she pauses, swallowing hard. “Well, I believe the two of you have some things you need to discuss.”

Discuss? You and Lord Jung? Suddenly the panic you feel metastasizes, growing into something much darker. Has he come to admonish you, then? To punish you for your disloyalty? Has he come to lay bare every humiliating detail of that horrible night at the stables for Hyeri to hear?

“No,” you whisper. You do your best to appear composed, despite the way your knees tremble. “I’m afraid you’re mistaken, Hyeri. I have nothing to discuss with Lord Jung.”

“Yes, you do.” The man in question speaks for the first time, his voice little more than a low rasp. “And we will.”

“No,” you repeat your refusal, shaking your head as though the movement will help sort your jumbled thoughts. “No. You have no right to turn up here and say what I will and will not do. And where did you come from? I saw you leave. I saw you mount your horse and ride off with – “

You stop yourself before you can finish the thought, flushing fiercely at the unspoken mention of the King. Your tedious, disinterested husband would be anything but if he had any inkling of this clandestine encounter.

“I was called back to the castle,” Lord Jung explains evenly. “A palace rider came bearing a missive bidding that I return at once to address an issue at the stables. I was but an hour’s ride away at the time.” Once again, he looks to Hyeri and they exchange another one of those maddening looks.

“But there was no issue at the stables,” you deduce quietly, the pieces falling into place, one by one. “Was there, Hyeri?” Your handmaid seems to shrink beneath the weight of the accusation in your eyes.

“No, Your Grace,” she confesses weakly, “There was not.”

Oh, but your head is truly spinning now – each new revelation more disorienting than the last. How long have these two been conspiring together? What does Hyeri know about what’s transpired between you and Lord Jung? What does he know about the many private things you’ve shared with Hyeri? Both thoughts cause the bile in your stomach to rise.

“You can leave us now, Hyeri,” Lord Jung says. “Thank you.”

Leave you? Has the man lost all good sense? You open your mouth to protest, but when met with the intensity in his glittering dark eyes, words fail you. You just stand there, mouth agape, rendered mute and immobile with shock. You look over at Hyeri, who has fixed her pleading eyes to your wide ones, her expression urging you to comply. And though you cannot make sense of a single thing that you’ve witnessed tonight, you do.

“Very well, My Lord,” she says quietly. “Rest well, Your Grace. The staff rouses at dawn.”

And with that Hyeri takes her leave, the chamber door closing behind her with a heavy thud that echoes the one in your chest.

⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️

Once you are alone with Lord Jung, you realize how truly vulnerable you are.

With little more than a thin nightgown to cover you, he can see far more of you than would ever be considered proper. All it would take was one shout from the man to bring the guards running, to compromise you both to the point of expulsion. Perhaps worse.

But the situation is far weightier than that.

You’ve been vulnerable to this man from nearly the first moment you saw him. You’d been weak to his attention and charms. You’d allowed him to see you in ways that no one else has: not Chaehee, not Hyeri and certainly not the King. And the only time in your life that you’d thrown caution to the wind – and acted with abandon, not restraint – he’d mortified you. The memory of that night is a wound that’s just barely begun to heal, and now here Lord Jung stands, poised to pour salt on it.

You’ll not allow him to devastate you again.

“Go on then,” you say, lifting your chin and speaking with feigned bravado. “You’ve gone to great lengths to speak to me, so speak. I assume you’ll enlighten me as to which matter is so pressing that you felt the need to steal into my chamber and risk ruin for us both.”

“I know what I’m risking,” he growls. Then he stops to collect himself, exhaling deeply as he shoves a hand through his hair. “I know what we both stand to lose. But I could not come to you any other way.”

“Why have you come to me at all?” you demand. “You made your feelings quite clear the night of the festival, did you not?” You can no longer contain your bitterness and it drips from your every word. “You should go back to your sovereign, My Lord. Back to your King.”

Lord Jung looks stricken when you use his own words against him. There is a despair in his dark eyes that might have pained you once, but not now. Not anymore.

“You have every right to be angry with me, Your Grace,” he acknowledges. “And if you bid me to leave, then I will do so. But not without telling you the truth. You deserve to hear the truth.”

“Everything here is a lie. Perhaps you, most of all.”

He looks at you for a long moment before turning towards the hearth to gaze into the fire. Orange-red light illuminates his profile, sweeping across his smooth brow, over the elegant slope of his nose and down to his strong jaw. He is still the most beautiful – and most terrible man you’ve ever known.

“The King said he would give her up,” he says woodenly, staring into the flames. “When your marriage was announced, he swore it. And I believed him.”

Every muscle in your body pulls tight.

“I knew that he loved her. We all did. But he vowed that he would respect his father’s wishes and I’ve never known him to be a duplicitous man. I’ve never known him to say one thing and do another. And when I realized that he’d been deceiving you, deceiving us all, I – “ he stops and shakes his head at the memory. “ – I wasn’t thinking clearly. I confronted him at once and demanded that he explain himself.”

The argument in the courtyard. The memories come back to you in an instant. The way they’d both looked so irate, the way their voices would rise and then fall. Lord Jung turning his back on the King and stalking away into the dark.

The tightness in your chest is unbearable now, viselike.

“I was so damned angry,” he whispers, more to himself than to you. “Never once in my life have I imagined putting my hands on the King, but in that moment – I don’t know. I don’t know what I might have done had I not walked away. But I confronted him because I had to know why.”

He rips his gaze from the fire and turns to you, eyes flashing.

“And do you know what he told me? Do you know what he said when I asked him why he would insult you by keeping a lover? He told me that he couldn’t stay away. That he’d tried to do the honorable thing but he couldn’t stay away.”

“Why are you telling me this?” The tremor in your voice belies your pathetic attempt at composure. “If you mean to cause me pain, it’s too late. I’ve known about the King’s lover since the early days of this marriage, and I’ve accepted it. Just as I’ve accepted that I’ll never amount to more than a trinket he dusts off to show to his people.”

Lord Jung takes a step towards you, his beautiful face hard in the firelight. There’s a maelstrom behind his eyes, a polite violence that sets you to shiver.

“I’m telling you this because I need you to understand,” he says. “I want to hate him. I have tried to hate him. But I cannot. I have no position of honor to stand on. No rightful claim to virtue. I have no right to condemn the King for his sins when I have so many of my own to account for.”

“I – I don’t understand,” you say weakly.

“I have no right – “ his voice breaks, thick with emotion, “-- I have no right to denounce the King for coveting another woman.” He drags a hand down his face, distraught. “Not when I have spent every single day since you stepped out of that carriage coveting you.”

You stop breathing entirely.

“So no,” he continues, voice graveled. “I cannot bring myself to hate the King. And you were right to think me a liar. I’ve pretended that my nearness to you was benign, nothing more than an act of service. I’ve tried to make myself look honorable to you, when I have been anything but. I’ve been a liar since the moment I met you.”

You are trembling now, head to toe. Rendered speechless by Lord Jung’s confession. Slowly, the maelstrom in his eyes starts to recede. He looks as vulnerable now as you feel.

“You deserved to know the truth,” he says quietly. “If from no one else, than from me.”

There is a heavy silence in the seconds it takes you to find your voice.

“My Lord, I – “

“Don’t call me that,” he pleads. “Please. Not now. Not when I’ve come to you like this.”

“Very well, Hoseok. But you sent me away. In the woods that night, I’d asked you to – “ you stop, not wanting to say the words aloud. “What’s changed? Why are you telling me this now?”

“I have tried to leave you alone.” His voice is ragged now, anguished. “I thought if I could just put some distance between us – if I rose earlier and worked harder and retired later – that I could exhaust this need out of me. But I can’t.” Torment is etched into every line of his beautiful face. It makes you want to reach out and touch him but you resist, uncertainty keeping your hands pinned to your sides.

“I cannot war with myself any longer,” he says hoarsely. “I cannot continue to lie to you or myself. And if he is not willing to give you the things you desire, then I will.”

Heat rushes to your cheeks, your neck. It gathers in your belly, too.

“So if you’re asking me why now?” he says, taking another step towards you, closing what little distance remains. “It’s because I couldn’t stay away.”

He touches you then, takes your face into one warm hand and strokes his fingers down your temple, smooths the pad of his thumb over your lips. The featherlight touch raises goosebumps all over your skin. It’s more intimate than anything you’ve ever experienced with the King.

“Do you still want me to kiss you?” he murmurs.

“No,” you breathe. “I want so much more than that.”

He looks at you with such heat that the warmth in your belly goes molten. Then he presses his mouth to yours and slowly coaxes it open with gentle strokes of his tongue. He tastes of whiskey and smells of fine, heady soap and he does not relent until you are panting. Moisture gathers at the juncture of your thighs, beneath your thin nightgown.

But suddenly you are apprehensive. You’ve no idea how to kiss a man properly, much less satisfy him as a lover. And you’re not sure that you could ever live down the shame of disappointing him. When he finally pulls away to look down at you with heavy-lidded eyes, you have no choice but to confess.

“There’s something you should know, Hoseok,” you say, the sound of his given name still foreign in your mouth. “It’s just that – well, I am by no means a maiden but in some respects, I might as well be. I know almost nothing about how to please you.”

Anger flashes in his eyes, and for one terrifying moment you fear it’s for you.

“That is through no fault of your own,” he says darkly. “And if he’s been too much of a fool to see to your needs, then so be it.” He dips his head to press a kiss to your ear, then whispers, “Your pleasure will be mine and mine alone.”

⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️

Hoseok spends an inordinate amount of time tending to the fire.

You sit on the edge of your bed and watch him, feverish with anticipation as he moves the weakest logs and adds fresh ones. Once he’s satisfied, once the chamber is glowing with fresh flames and warmth, he cleans his hands and comes to you.

Your heart rattles harder with each step he takes towards your bed.

When he’s finally standing at the foot of your bed, he takes off his belt. And then reaches behind his head to pull his tunic away. The sight of his bare chest is enough to make your mouth go dry. His body is lithe and sleek and strong, his muscles rippling as he puts his hands down on either side of you and lowers his mouth to yours for a kiss.

“Tonight is about you, pretty bird,” he murmurs, trailing more kisses across your cheek, down your neck. “So I want you to tell me everything you want.”

“I want to see you.” The words leave you in a rush an account of the way his mouth moves from the juncture of your neck and to the hollow of your collarbone. “All of you.”

Hoseok wastes no time in straightening to his full height to remove his breeches, and then his smallclothes. And try as you might not to stare, it cannot be helped. You’ve never been able to study a man like this. Not even the King.

“Can I touch you?”

“Please,” he groans.

And then you are cautiously reaching for him, wrapping a hand around the length of him, marveling at the way he pulses in your palm. You run your fingertips down the skin of his shaft, awestruck by how silky and warm he is. But when your fingers reach the blunt head of him, he flinches.

“I don’t – I’m sorry,” you say quickly. “Did I hurt you?

“No, no. You didn’t hurt me,” he assures you, his voice sounding a bit strangled. “I’m just sensitive there, is all.”

“Will you show me, then?” you ask, curiosity far stronger than any self-consciousness you might feel. “Show me how to touch you.”

“Of course.”

He sits down on the bed beside you, taking hold of your hand. And then you watch with a heady mix of confusion and excitement as he takes your fingers into his mouth one, by one. He finishes the unfamiliar preparation by licking a long stripe up the palm of your hand. The stroke of his tongue sends a bolt of desire racing through you.

“It’s easier like this,” he explains, guiding your hand back to his length. You take hold of him again and this time he wraps his hand around yours. He moves your hand for you, up and down the length of him, until you can feel him growing hotter and harder in your hand. You’re fascinated by it all – by how firmly he wants to be touched, by how labored his breathing becomes, by the way the muscle and sinew in his legs seem to twitch at your command.

He leans over to capture your mouth as he begins to buck into your hand in earnest. And after a while his own hand falls away, leaving you to take control of his pleasure. And what an intoxicating power he’s given you – taut muscles in his abdomen flexing with each of his strained breaths.

“That feels so good, pretty bird,” he groans, taking your bottom lip between his teeth. “Just right. Your hand feels so good around me like this.”

The wetness you’d felt between your thighs when he’d kissed you the first time returns, and each sound of pleasure he rewards you with makes you wetter and warmer. He is rock hard in your hand now, the dusky head of his manhood shiny with moisture. You watch a bead of it appear at the tip and you slide your fingertips over it, transfixed by how smooth it feels. Beside you, Hoseok shudders.

“I think that’s enough for now,” he says, breathless. “I’ll be of no use to you if you keep that up for much longer.”

You have half a mind to protest, but then his hands are sliding over the thin material of your nightgown, cupping your breasts through the gauzy fabric. He takes one of your nipples between his fingers and teases it until it’s standing at attention. You sigh.

“Can I take this off?” he whispers, pulling at the nightgown.

You hesitate. Not even the King has seen you nude. Not once has he ever asked you to remove your nightgown and so for a long time, that is what you’d assumed he preferred. That is, until you’d caught him in bed with his lover.

“Look at me,” Hoseok says, sensing your anxiety. He tips your chin up until your gaze meets his own. “I’ll not ask you to do anything you’re uncomfortable with. But I would be lying if I said that I didn’t want to use my mouth and hands on you. On all of you.”

You inhale deeply, flustered by the way he speaks so plainly about his desires. But that’s what you want, isn’t it? What you’ve longed for all this time. And that’s what he’s promised you, isn’t it? Pleasure. Pleasure that will be his and his alone.

You draw your nightgown up to your thighs and then raise up to pull it even higher. When you’ve finally discarded it, when there is nothing left between you and Hoseok you flush, looking away.

“You have nothing to hide,” he rasps. “You’re beautiful. Believe me, pretty bird – you are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.”

Emboldened by the praise, you draw nearer to him and trace the outline of his heart-shaped mouth with one finger. And then it is your lips that find his; your tongue that moves past the seam of his lips and your teeth that find the shell of his ear. You thread your fingers in his hair, and he groans, gathering you close.

“You can’t imagine how many nights I’ve dreamed of you like this,” he says, gently laying you back on the bed. “You can’t imagine how many nights I’ve taken myself in hand to these fantasies.”

Oh, but you can imagine, can’t you? The few times you’d dared to try and seek your own pleasure, it had been him in your mind’s eye as your hand was between your legs. It had always been him.

Hoseok’s mouth leaves yours and when it finds the tip of one aching breast, you gasp.

“Do you like that?” he goads, laving your nipple with his tongue, taking it between his teeth. The pang of pleasure he incites in you is so sharp, you cry out. “Your body is so responsive,” he murmurs. “So damned responsive.”

There is only so much of that particular torture you can take, and so when his mouth finally leaves your breasts you exhale a sigh of relief. But then his mouth is on your sternum, and then your stomach, and then –

You freeze.

“I want to kiss you here,” Hoseok explains, cupping your mound with one large hand. “I promised you pleasure and this is the surest way to it. Will you let me?”

He looks up at you from the edge of the bed, his dark hair wild and his dark eyes glossy with desire, his mouth hovering over your most secret place. Your pulse skitters, heart pounding erratically at the thought of him kissing you there.

“Is it – is it proper?” you ask, chiding yourself at once for asking such a stupid question. Your face flames when Hoseok raises a brow. “I don’t know that I’ve ever thought to consider the … propriety of such an act,” he says slowly. “But I know that you’ll enjoy it if you allow me to show you. And if you don’t enjoy it, I’ll stop.”

In the seconds that follow, you think about the way he’d let you take him in hand. How he’d showed you how to bring him pleasure, without reserve. How powerful you’d felt when he’d been shuddering under your touch. He’d trusted you, hadn’t he? Just as you now must trust him.

“Alright,” you whisper, nodding your assent. “I trust you.”

He grins at you then, wickedly, before lowering his mouth to your mons. And then he is kissing you there, softly, each brush of his lips moving lower and lower still. Until you feel the heat of his breath at your entrance. You tense.

“Relax for me,” he instructs, licking a long, wet stripe up the length of you. The touch sends a frisson of sensation shooting through your limbs. “Close your eyes and try to think of nothing but this.”

And then he sets his tongue to the tiny pearl at your entrance.

And at once, you see stars.

“H-Hoseok!” you gasp, your hips flying off the bed at the contact. The urge to snap your legs shut is almost as strong as the urge to push deeper into the pleasing press of his tongue. Almost.

But he pins your legs down with his arms and continues the onslaught, stroking and licking at you with his tongue, nipping at you with his teeth. You grab fistfulls of the duvet as though it might ground you somehow, keep you from bursting into flame.

And then he slides one long finger into you.

You are incoherent now, moaning and begging in broken sentences that do not make sense. But your body is responding in ways that your words cannot, hips moving in time with his mouth. Each pass of his tongue sends sharp spikes of pleasure to your core. You’d thought you’d known what this pleasure felt like, that perhaps you’d be able to reach it on your own someday, but never once had it been like this.

And then you can feel it – the coil turning inside you, the desperate ascent to the one place you’ve never been able to reach. And it’s so close, so so close – the promise of whatever awaits on the other side strong enough to sate this nameless craving that you’ve felt for so long. It’s within your reach now, if only you can just hold on.

And then it stops.

He takes his mouth and tongue away and the pleasure vanishes. “Hoseok, no,” you cry, sapped of all energy, robbed once again of the relief you so desperately seek. “Please,” you beg weakly, “please.”

But he’s at your side now, the length of his body resting against yours, his manhood hard and hot against your leg. “Come now, pretty bird,” he soothes, “I didn’t bring you this high just to let you fall.”

He presses his lips to your ear at the same time he presses his fingers back to the aching bud between your thighs. “Go on then,” he whispers. “Fly.”

He brings every sensation he’d wrought from you rushing back with his fingers. His mouth hovers at your ear, whispering his encouragement until the coil inside you snaps. He must have known that you’d not be able to contain yourself when you came apart because he covers your mouth with his own, swallowing the sobs he wrenches from you, bringing you down slowly as you come apart.

And when you finally come to your senses again, when your breathing has evened and your heart has slowed and every part of you feels liquid and languid, he smiles.

“I couldn’t risk you waking the entire castle,” he explains apologetically, pressing a kiss to your temple. “Forgive me.”

“There’s nothing to forgive,” you shudder through your quiet laughter, aftershocks of sensation rippling through you. “Quite the opposite, in fact. I’ve never – never experienced anything like that.”

“That’s mine,” he murmurs, going up on one elbow. “Just as I told you it would be.”

Indeed. But what about his pleasure? The firm reminder of it remains pressed against you, the rigid length of it leaking onto your duvet. You reach for it and he draws a sharp breath through his clenched teeth.

“I want to feel you inside me,” you say softly, noting the way a muscle tics in his jaw. You wrap your hand around him and squeeze, astounded by how feverishly hot he feels. “Please.”

Hoseok nods, climbing over you and settling his hips between your thighs. He takes himself in hand and when you feel the blunt head of him at your entrance, you tense again. But he doesn’t enter you right away. Instead he looks down at you, his dark eyes brimming with emotion.

“Are you certain,” he breathes, his brow dotted with a fine sheen of sweat. “I need to hear you say it.”

You lift up to kiss him, pressing your lips to his. “Take me, Hoseok,” you whisper. “Now.”

And in one sure stroke, he’s buried to the hilt inside you.

Bodies sealed, fates sealed.

The force of his entry steals the breath from your lungs. And though you’ve been breached before, it’s never felt like this. You’re still sensitive from the pleasure he’d given you only moments before and each of his thrusts only heightens the sensation.

You cling to him as he rocks against you, closing your eyes to revel in the fullness. He buries his head in your neck and thrusts harder, the sound of his skin meeting yours just as gratifying as it is lurid. And when he reaches between you to press his fingers to your pearl once again, impossibly you feel fresh pleasure begin to bloom.

Broken phrases fall from his lips, a string of curses and blessings and everything in between. And his coarse language doesn’t scandalize you; in fact it only causes you to hurtle towards the peak faster. And then you’re flying again – flying apart, scattering into a million pieces. Crying into his mouth as your release explodes into color and tiny wisps of fire slowly drift back to the earth.

But you come back to yourself just as his rhythm has started to falter, just as the steady cant of his hips becomes so frenetic that you know his own release is near. You have only a moment to mourn the loss of his weight and his warmth before he’s on his knees before you.

You’ve never seen anything more erotic. Firelight flickers over him as he throws his head back, the cords in his neck clenching as he takes himself in hand. And then he is groaning, long and low, as his release spills on to the duvet.

Then he collapses onto you, wrapping you up in his arms, turning you both until he’s on his back and your head rests upon his chest. And then you both lie there for a while, skin to skin, watching the flames cast shadows on the stone.

⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️

Neither one of you sleep, the threat of dawn too near to indulge in any such luxury.

“What happens now, Hoseok?”

You ask the question after he’s made love to you a second time, both of you too exhausted to move. Hoseok inhales and exhales deeply. “I don’t know. I have no control over the world outside of that chamber door, pretty bird.”

You map the lines of his chest with one finger, thoughtful.

“You told me earlier that if the King would not give me the things I desire, you would. Did you mean that?”

“I did,” Hoseok says, pressing a kiss to your hair. “If it’s within my power, then I will. I will give you anything I can.”

“Thank you,” you whisper, closing your eyes and breathing deeply. “Thank you.”

⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️

You sit by the window and take in the afternoon sunlight, eyes drooping as you fight to stay awake.

You cannot ever remember being so tired. You sleep in fits and starts now, two or three hours at a time. And your body is too fatigued to talk up walking again, though the fresh air and exercise would do you some good. But you will walk again, soon. It won’t be long before you’re sitting with your birds and reading in the gentle Spring breeze.

Hyeri charges into the room like a bull, the tea tray in her hand clattering loudly. You narrow her eyes at her as she approaches and she fixes you with a sardonic look.“Oh, hush you,” she grumbles, setting the tray down on the table and walking over to you. “I wasn’t that loud.”

But her scowl falls away as her gaze locks on the baby at your breast, her muted eyes glowing with admiration.

“That’s a fine Prince you have there, Your Grace,” she says softly. Then she looks up at you and her scowl returns. “Though at the rate you’re going, I’ll never get to hold him, will I? You’ve an entire staff to help you with him, and still you refuse. You’re going to make that boy rotten.”

You chuckle under your breath as you stroke your hand over the tuft of downy hair at your son’s crown. He blinks up at you with his huge dark eyes, and your heart is filled to overflowing with a love that you once you thought you’d never know.

⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️

y,all i finished it! hahah okay so listen. if you'd like to talk to me, i'd love to hear from you. please consider reblogging and dropping me an ask 💕

#hoseok smut #hoseok x reader #j-hope smut #j-hope x reader #bts smut #bts fic #bts x reader

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