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tarjapearce · 2 days

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Crimson Crown (Pt. 10)

amazing cover done by @pinkiemme 🩷✨

King! Miguel O'Hara x Princess! Reader.

WARNINGS: Emotional distress, scheming, foul langue, no use of Y/N, no proofread, mentions of violence, relationship stablishment.

Summary: As the danger introduces itself in several names, a bond turns unbreakable.

A/N: Woke up extra romantic 🤭 and yes, G in Miles G Morales stands for Gonzalo jsksk. It's canon jsksk

Another day in Arachne meant another day away from home. Away from everything that had given you the strength to continue, far from the people you loved and cared for. Hopefully all this torment would end soon.

Your mind drifted off to the life you were ready to retake, the upcoming challenges to face as a future heir to Theleria's throne. And possibly the future prospect of a husband your parents would give you.

For a second, the image of Miguel came to mind, but it was quickly shook off. No. He had lost all right to you, even the one to inhabit your thoughts. Hence why you had been overworking yourself to exhaustion. His memories were fading, like the sound of his voice. The touch of his hands, no longer ghosting on your skin.

And his words way too gone and sapped away from your head. All those bits of him were disappearing from you.

Good.

You couldn't carry them with you once you left Arachne for good. Would you be enemies? No. Hopefully not. You didn't want any other sort of interaction with him, even if that meant to resort to the battlefield.

At this point Peter was used to this mute self you had turned into. But also understood your need of detachment. Deep within, the commander hoped this situation to be solved soon either way. He was tired of seeing Miguel wasting his energies in the training room, tearing apart the dummies, perfecting even more if possible, what he already knew.

Peter had been secretly praying for you to stay, because he knew that if you left, Miguel would retake his old ways and could potentially do everything in his wake to keep you by his side. And that hope had turned tangible, in the shape of none other than Lucille.

Said woman had been speaking to Miguel for the past few days, and keeping her existence a secret to you. Whatever they were planning, it better took start, since he had heard you packing up.

----

Once the activities for the day in the hospital ended, you returned to the castle.

Your brain had memorized these never ending and stony halls, their echo drowned your steps as you approached your room.

Nothing had prepared you for the sight in it.

"How come you've stopped painting, my lady?" Lucille's voice, ever soft and gentle echoed through, reaching for you in a warm embrace.

Your wide eyes, unbelieving, blurred with the emerging tears. Your breath hitched, uncomfortably tight in your throat, only to be released in a maudlin sob.

"Lucille!" tears flowed, your dam of sadness opened, as you ran to meet her in a soul crushing hug.

Lucille's heart sunk as soon as you hugged her, sobbing like a hurt and scared little child in her loving embrace. Now she regretted not being even harsher with her words towards Miguel. Your heartbreak oozed from every pore of your trembling skin.

"There" She rubbed in soothing circles the lower of your back while letting you cry and stain her dress with your liquid pain.

Your repeated her name over and over, fearing she'd slip away from your grasp. Your pain had been squeezed tightly into a bottle until it was unable to be contained anymore, exploding with hurt, shame and other things you couldn't quite pinpoint at the moment.

"I've missed you so dearly, Lucille." your voice whimpered, unable to keep it steady thanks to the tightening lump in your throat. However her sudden appearance meant your letter was delivered and she had came to fetch you.

"I've missed you too, princess. Your mother misses you greatly."

Your hands wiped your tears and with a handkerchief you wiped your nose, " She'll miss me no more. Are you ready to leave? I thought my letter hadn't reached the queen, but you're here! We can go!"

" My lady-"

"I can't be here another day, Lucille. Help me pack up so I can deliver my letter to the king and get this over with."

In a haste, you let her embrace go and went to your closet, tossing all the remaining dresses to the bed. A good chunk of your clothes were already packed in the same bags they came.

But her stillness, dulled all that sudden excitement in a go.

"Lucille?" your brows furrowed confused, "Help me out, please."

"My lady-"

"Please." You pleaded and her heart sunk deeper. It wouldn't be easy by all means what she was about to attempt. She didn't know the extent of the damage the king had inflicted. But by your reaction it was more than enough to understand it had been worse than she had imagined.

"Please, Lucille. Help me pack up so we can go home."

"Come." She instructed, but your reluctance ran rampant that moment.

"No! I don't want to stay here! I don't want to stay knowing there is someone else in his bed, sharing his body, his everything! I don't!" your voice broke as you spilled it all, finally letting the anguish to settle and ground, "Don't make me stay and marry him, I beg you!"

"I'm not forcing you to marry, my lady. I am against all the dishonesty trailing after him, but I am a firm believer of listening before making decisions."

"That whore said enough. And I had enough."

"My lady." Lucille's tone stern and this made you recoil your gaze away, "Do you remember one of your mother's principles? The most important one."

Your head bobbed slightly and your fingers wiped the tears again, "D-Do not make decisions based on your current emotions."

"As they might come back to haunt you later." Lucille sighed and approached, placing her soft and caring hands on your trembling shoulders, "My lady. I know you are hurting. And you have all the right to do so and not say a word to the king. But," She paused, threading her words carefully, "Don't you think, it's obvious everything that woman said to you was a lie? Her intention of harming was more than clear when you faced her."

"That doesn't erase the fact he never told me about her."

"True. Wouldn't you like to know why? From the source itself?"

Angry breaths slowly turned into mellowed huffs while you sat on the edge of the bed. "I... How can I know he'll say the truth this time? I can't trust him."

"Men like him think they can carry a lie for so long, but in truth it only makes them terrible liars, so they have no choice but to speak the truth, as uncomfortable as it is."

"You've been meeting him, haven't you?" Although your eyes narrowed, Lucille nodded.

"I have, yes. And he's desperate to have you back, dear. I mean, he fetched me from Theleria and has been interrogating me the past two days. Your mother was severely alarmed when his soldiers arrived."

Lucille chuckled upon remembering your mother's threats to Miguel before she saw her off.

"You don't have to forgive him. Just listen to what he has to say and then, when you have both sides of the truth, you may take a decision."

Although your heart wished and wanted to be the proud one in this situation, you knew that, as usual, Lucille was right. But new questions popped in your brain.

For how long did Dana had been planning this? How many mistresses did he have?

All of them, or at least most of them could be answered if you gave Miguel a hearing.

With a deep sigh and a dramatic plop of your body on the mattress, you let out a blasé grunt.

"Just for the sake of my own peace, I'll concede him the right to a hearing."

-----

"Baron D'Angelo!" Kingpin exclaimed, thrilled to see the gaunt man under his roof. The latter only watched the big sovereign with curious and mistrusting eyes.

The road trip had been long enough. A horse and a guard were assigned to him by the corrupt king himself, leading to their current location. However the guard, had refused to reveal their ubiety to him, as he'd been only hired to ensure his safe arrival.

Kingpin patted his shoulders gently, "I know what is like to lose everything in a moment, my friend. I'm deeply sorry for the slaughter of your family."

He didn't know if sarcasm dripped off his tongue, or he was as blunt as everyone made him to be.

"Hope the trip went went and my agent behaved?"

Darko nodded and soon was led to another room by the big man. For having such news delivered, Kingpin oozed with high spirits.

Kingpin led him through a set of stairs to finally reach an elevator, that creaked under their weight. The lever was pulled down and with an agonizing shriek, the gears turned, making a descend a couple of floors lower.

The Fisk's banner were perched in every corner and turn they gave. The Humidity and stuffiness of the somber milieu only added even more charm to the already eldritch place. Both men turned and Kingpin lit up a nearby lamp.

They finally reached a sturdy oak and iron door, Erunia's royal emblem engraved within its surface. An enormous hand pressed against a nicked brick nearby, activating the door's mechanism with a loud creak. The door swung open, leaving a gust of dust and dirt in it's wake.

The first thing Darko noticed was the secret room, where men dressed up in dark cloaks and foreign faces stared his way. Faces that undoubtedly harbored nothing but hatred, unfinished businesses and many other dern things that spoke in a universal language and resumed into one thing. The need of vengeance.

Vendetta in its purest and unalloyed form against a common enemy. The Red King.

As soon as Kingpin sat, he instructed the Baron to also seat at the end of the round table, a spot reserved for none else but him, in an implicit welcome to this clandestine and dark brotherhood.

"My friends, the Baron here, just experienced first hand the wrath of that madman. He slaughtered and burned his family and his home." Kingpin spoke and some of the attendees' countenances grew somber at the revelation. "For how long must we allow such wickedness?"

"The Red King never left. My daughter... Dana." He put the jar full of the remnants of his beloved and favorite offspring on the table, earning some alarmed looks his way, "She was the one that brought him back, at extent of her life." Darko spoke, feeling the knot tightening within his throat, constricting his upcoming broken words, but the man on his right spoke before he could broke before them all.

"Rest assured, friend, that madman has his days counted." Spoke Kraven in his thick accent with nothing but a hopeful promise behind.

"We've been starting our scouting a couple of months ago, our insiders tell us that he is soon to marry. Is that true?"

"It is." Darko scowled, derision in his face at the sudden image of you that appeared in his brain, " He's marrying the daughter of that Thelerian witch, Dhalia Blanchard."

Kraven looked particularly irked and this other man, sneered his way.

"Got your prize snatched out of hands, Kraven?"

"Shut up, stupid bird." The hunter sneered in Adrian's direction. Adrian Toomes.

The Vulture as he liked to call himself, one of the most wanted thieves in Arachne, tittered with a hint of amusement behind.

"Boys, enough." Kingpin warned as he clasped his hands together, "What else can you tell us about that princess?"

"She's the head of the medical division in Arachne." The sudden voice of the same teen that met Darko in his despair, approached, emerging from the shadows, looking with his usual soul piercing gaze at the Baron. Seizing him with the haughtiness proper of a double agent.

"Gonzalo Morales, my boy in the flesh!" Wilson sing sung, happy to see his best double agent again. The boy stood partially in the lights, revealing his young yet hardship knowing face.

"The king trusts her, to the point of giving her a whole lab for her experiments. She was the one that patched up the king after Rhino injured him and his men."

There was a proud huff from within the room. And this new information only piqued the corrupt king's interest even further.

"Does this princess knows about that madman's heart condition, boy?"

"That I wouldn't know for sure, my lord. But at this point, I believe it's a matter of time she is acquainted with the issue."

"She does not know nothing about Arachne! Yet the king gave her a chance with the council. She might have fooled them, but not me." Darko seethed and spat, "Because of that harlot my daughter got replaced and killed!"

"Not to offend you and whatever's left from her, Baron." G pointed at the jar, "But it was an unrealistic expectation you bestowed upon her. King O'Hara never took her in consideration for such thing, she was his fuck toy at best." Gonzalo spoke, earning a fulminant look from Darko.

"How dare you?!" The Baron roared, but a tall, bald black armored man stood. Hands dressed in sharp silver and purple claws, ready to strike if needed.

"Easy there, Aaron." Kraven chuckled, earning a condescending glare from the alluded.

"Now, now, boy. Don't be so harsh on the Baron. He is mourning. Let him breathe and watch that language!." Kingpin warned, sapping the rising anger that echoed in the hiden and stony walls of the war room.

A man dressed up in a desert robes remained quiet, watching the scene unfold while toying with one of his sand pouches, as an armored in spikes mercenary devoured an apple in a few bites. Flint Marko wasn't one for speaking unless necessary. But his talents with the sand alchemy was something Fisk couldn't ignore, as it was exactly what he needed for the future.

And Rhino couldn't truly care less at the moment.

"Your daughter's sacrifice won't be in vain, that's for sure. But you must understand that once you join us, either death or victory are the only options in this table, Baron D'Angelo." Kingpin warned, earning a knowing look from the hurting nobleman.

"I've been carrying within this jar, the only child capable of approaching the king and bring that madman back to the table, sir." He took a deep breath and looked at said ivory container, "I saw the ruins of my home burned to ash and soot, I might have even stepped in my other children without intending, as there was nothing left of them but dust."

Darko's eyes turned colder than a block of ice, "I assure you, I've got nothing else left to lose, my lord."

A proud smile stretched in Wilson's face, just like the rest.

"Any activities in mind you'd like to participate, Baron?"

"Let me dispose of the princess, my lord."

And Kingpin nodded. His plan of a decade slowly, grew and took fruition.

"The Sinister Six welcome you, Darko D'Angelo. I promise you, in no time, we'll see the light of a new order in this continent. Lets us all hope The Red King is dethroned successfully."

-----

Miguel's hands trembled as his eyes reread the piece of scroll, over and over. He could recite those words by memory if someone asked him to, and would even go into aesthetic details on each letter if needed.

The princess has agreed to give you a hearing.

-Lucille

May heavens forever bless the woman and her tongue for achieving what he miserably failed a long time ago.

Not only had she prevented you from going right away, but also turned the tables in his favor. All he had to do now was to make a run for his money and speak from the heart if there was a chance, as remote and tiny as it was, to keep you here, with Arachne.

With him.

He had another chance to speak what his hands have been scribbling to no end in several pages, ever since the silence fell upon you both. He gave you space, mostly out of fear of your well deserved rejection and icy glare, the only look that actually stirred several shades of discomfit in his heart.

The Festival of Embers rang through his memories, since it was today. Jessica had helped him to prepare the place at the pond you had invited him over lunch.

Only his mind, however, knew what laid inside the pages he had tucked in within his coat. If they were to burn in the cleansing fire, there was no need for anyone to peek into his mind.

With a last huff, he wrote a quick note and sent Margo to deliver it immediately. Then ordered for the horses to be ready at once.

When alone again, he served himself a glass of liqueur and downed it in a go, in a stupid attempt of waning his nerves. His heart beat, erratic as usual, pounded heavily within his strong ribcage.

Powerful pumps, resonating through his torso, invigorating his morale to do his damnedest to keep you here, even though the beast within urged him, demanded even to go to your room and tie you to the bed, if that meant to keep you by his side. Ruling in tandem with him.

But he wouldn't do such thing, even though his mind and every fiber in his body screamed at him to fight. To claim you and chain you if needed. Cause his heart couldn't bear the mere thought of you leaving.

No. That was just that dark side of him speaking. He'd respect whatever choice you'd go for, even if it means to see you walking back to Theleria forever.

A little too late Miguel realized Peter's presence, watching him curiously while the coppery taste bloomed in his mouth.

Miguel had been biting his lip a bit too hard enough to draw blood.

"You'll be fine. Just tell her the truth as it is."

The commander spoke, confident his advice would succeed, yet amused to see his friend a nervous wreck as he paced around his office.

"What if she leaves?"

"Ask her to not." Peter shrugged

"You make it sound so easy"

"Whenever MJ is angry at me, honesty and actual regret helps, even if the thing she got angry at me is little. Don't dismiss her feelings although they make you uncomfortable."

Miguel ran a hand through his hair and sighed, defeated. And when Ben came to inform the horses were ready, his heart sunk.

With a last look on the mirror, he strapped the sword to his hip and walked towards your room. Each step closer only increased the suffocating need to run and apologize through a letter.

But neither that would work and neither he was a coward. Who would've guessed his biggest challenge was to ask for forgiveness when it was usually the opposite? His fallen enemies surely would laugh in delight to see him like this. Anxious, hands trembling, bile menacing to rise up his throat and unsure of his rehearsed words, over a woman.

The Red King was nervous because of you.

His hands tightened into fist as his presence was announced to you. And for the first time in what felt like forever, his eyes took in the sight of you.

Beautiful as ever, even if melancholy refused to leave your countenance. That spark he loved to see in those gorgeous eyes of yours, was gone. Completely sapped away from your system.

Just dull, saddened and pretty eyes that tore their gaze from him when he crossed the threshold.

"The horses are ready" he cleared his throat after the first syllable came out trembling, "Follow me, please."

Lucille draped a cloak around your shoulders and you obeyed. He walked slowly to ensure you were following him, the urge to turn around and face you was greater than any urge he felt through his veins.

The horses awaited, and once you both reached them, he had his men help you up. Their looks settled on him, hopeful. He had the implicit support of his people. With a soft whip, you both galloped away.

-----

How could your heart be still after seeing him for the first time in weeks? He didn't look that different, maybe his eye bags a bit more prominent, and tiredness clinging to every inch of his skin.

You couldn't read him. You couldn't deduct what ran through his mind, and that settled you right in the very beginning.

To your surprise, he led you to that very same spot you had invited him over lunch, prepared with things like a bonfire.

He hopped off his horse and approached you, leaving no space for refusing his help to come down the beast.

Miguel's heartbeat skipped when the warmth irradiating from your skin, kissed his hands. He had touched you again. You were real and still remained here before him.

For how long though?

A dry gulp ran down his throat as he invited you to sit, his hands removed his own cloak, but you remained within yours as ir shielded you from everything, even him.

"Thank you for, uh... the chance of a hearing, Princesa."

His voice almost a whisper while he threw a couple of dry tweaks to the fire. It's cracking welcoming, soothing and filling those awkward moments of silence.

The title felt odd your ears, foreign and distant, unlike the first time he explained it's meaning to you.

"I agreed only for the sake of having a bit of peace in my head, sir."

The first stab was flawlessly delivered and he did nothing but to accept it. With a sigh, he tried again.

"I know my presence is everything but welcomed before you, Princesa. But I believe I owe you an explanation, Don't I?"

"You believe?" The coldness in your voice only made him flinch inwardly and swallow hard the tightening knot forming uo his throat. This was a combat he wasn't prepared for. He was losing, big time against you.

He put his hands up in defense. All his rehearsed words forgotten. His shaky hands rubbed his face a bit too rough before speaking again.

"I'm sorry." His eyes bore into yours, as a chill ran down your spine upon his words ringing true, despite the amount of mistrust inhabiting in your heart at the moment.

"I should've... informed myself of your customs. I should've known so many things to avoid hurting you like this. Should've paid more attention to your diary-"

"You... You what!?"

Fuck.

His heart nearly stopped functioning as soon as those words flew out of his mouth, this was precisely why he always rehearsed his words. His heart however gave him a painful beat as you stood abruptly, leaving.

"No, No! Princesa, wait!"

Everything was crumbling around him, he hadn't even apologized and was already destroying any chance left of winning you back.

"Princesa!" He scrambled to his feet but tripped in one of the tree's roots, falling to his knees as his hands grabbed you wrist, forcing you to look at him.

"Let me go!" You hiccuped, unable to keep the tears at bay thanks to this new trespassing.

You had brought him to his knees, something his enemies could only dream of.

Ignoring your pleas of freedom and soft yanks from his arms, he pulled you down to his chest, caging you within his strong arms, with zero intentions of letting you go despite your wriggling.

"You're a liar! And were invading my privacy!"

He nodded as he cradled your trembling form closer, finally taking a proper taste of your shaky frame. Frail, full of heavy sorrows, thanks to none else but him.

"I am. I should've... tell you about this. I shouldn't have read such thing."

"Please let me go, sir" You begged harder, unwilling to bask in his sudden wave of bold affection. His hand cradled your head with such care he though you'd break even further.

"I won't. Not until you listen to me, mi vida."

Even if kneeling he swallowed you whole, the hurting in his knees was nothing compared to the aches of your heart.

"Why I would trust-"

"Dana is dead."

Those words alone made you still, and his hand tangled with utter care in the strands of your hair. Keeping you in place, right above his heart for your ears to hear how it called and ached for more of you.

"I... I killed her" there wasn't sadness in his voice when he mentioned the wretched woman, "Everything she said to you was a lie."

"I want to believe you, my lord but-"

"Even way before you came I hadn't seen her. Almost a year had gone by before she tried to lay with me. She wqs threatened because you arrived."

He allowed you a bit of room to breath, then cupped your face and wiped the tears himself.

"But the kingdom has always been my priority. I never, and I mean it. Never attempted to have heirs with her."

"Did you love her?"

"No. Never." He shook his head, unable to break his eye contact with you. "But I was a fool to keep her around. I know much."

He placed your hands in his chest.

"And as I kept denying her, she thought it was a good idea to target you. And that is a mistake I'll always regret. Because I've made you cry."

His eyes were full of that same sorrow that invaded you, regret written all over his face.

"I've hurt you with my lies, without a doubt." His thumb stroked your cheek and his chest heaved a deep sigh.

"But I know that if I let you go back to Theleria, everything I've worked for will be for naught. Please, allow me to share my dream with you, Princesa."

His chin rested ontop of your head and you gasped for air as a new wave of tears spilled down your flushed cheeks.

"I don't want to share you, my lord."

"You won't" His forehead collided against yours softly, placing a chaste kiss on the side of your head. Peppering you with butterfly kisses as his hand kept caressing your head.

"I don't ever want to feel I am competing against others for your attention."

"You've never competed, mi vida. Never." His lips kissed now your tears and cheek.

"Then why you kept her around?!"

"Cause I was stupid. It wasn't for love or anything like that. I didn't know what to do at the time with her. But she'll never hurt you again."

Every kiss he put in your skin sent a delicious spark through your spine, nerves soaring with joy, and his words kept melting and destroying that impromptu wall you had tried to guard your heart with. But their weak foundations crumbled with every caress he gave you.

"You're the future queen of Arachne, Princesa. My wife to be. Mine."

Your heart could barely stand such joy, and the light-headedness slowly took over your brain. And when his hand took your left hand, your body trembled.

He pulled a little ring from his inside pockets, the fire roared with a powerful flame, yet it barely could match the resolution burning in his chest.

"I have no intentions of letting you go." The golden band hugged your finger perfectly. As if he knew the measurements of each finger of your nimble limb.

"Will you forgive me?"

His lips hovered over yours, ready to taste heaven. And when you nodded, he kissed you with a gutural groan rumbling through his chest.

Your lips were claimed. Kissed and revered, the ambrosial taste of them only ebbed him to deepen the kiss by keeping your nape in place.

For once the kingdom didn't matter, his rules didn't apply to him and his mind was solely focused on you. His bride to be, his future wife, the queen of his kingdom and the only one with all the categorical access to his bed. To him.

And just when you thought he'd break the kiss, he only took another gulp of air to slowly swirl his tongue inside your mouth, and your knees trembled.

Your first kiss. It was your first kiss you've ever shared with a man. Your future husband. And you never wanted it to stop, and by the urge of his movements, he neither. You wanted to kiss each other's until your lips bled. Until you could taste each other's souls.

His free hand roamed the lower of your back, memorizing each dent and curve, earning him a whimper. But he broke the kiss, cause if you kept making such delicious noises he wouldn't hesitate to take you right there.

And he wanted it to make it special. He wanted to give you all his adoration and engrave all his passion in every single inch of your body. And as tortuous as it was, he'd wait for the wedding night.

"This is your home now, mi reina. You're not going anywhere. Understood?"

You could only watch him with dazed eyes, before he devoured your lips again.

He was yours and yours alone.

----

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#t writes✨#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #atsv miguel #Crimson Crown 👑#Royal au #Spotify

185 notes · View notes

sanakimohara · 1 day

Note

Ok hear me out…

Jeongin finding out you have a chocking kink and him finding out he has a size kink on accident…. Because look at his hands… need them inside me and around my neck asap!

“A PERFECT FIT” Y. J.

—————————————————————

A/N: I'm backkkkkkkk! To be transparent, I have over 40+ requests in my inbox right now, so I'm starting from the bottom! Please forgive me for not answering your prompts earlier (I intend to make up for it). This was an eye-opening request, so I hope I did it justice!

[ MDNI ] + [ NSFW ] + [ CHOKING ] + [ SLIGHT DEGRADATION ] + [ MENTIONS OF CREAMPIE ] + [ IMPLIED SIZE DIFFERENCE ]

—————————————————————

“Innie…I don't know what to choose..” your brows scrunch together slightly as the array of jewelry being shown to you expands. The subtle sparkle each item radiates almost overwhelms you, but seeing them makes your heart flutter nonetheless. Jeongin laughs softly, amused by how distraught you look though you're only picking out his anniversary gift to you, “Nothing is too much, hun. Pick whatever you want. Take your time, sweetheart.” He reassures with a gentle smile, motioning the clerk to halt their jewel showcasing. They do as he asks without a word, patiently waiting for a sign to step back in, and hopefully successfully secure a sale.

The two of you looked more than qualified to make an obscene purchase. Dressed nicely for a special occassion that was nothing short of wistful dream come true for you.

One year together…with all of its ups and downs, you'd managed to keep Jeongin wrapped around your finger, and he, in turn, guarded your heart like no other person had before.

Your awed expression shifts to subtle excitement while admiring the jewels at your fingertips.

“They’re all so wonderful… this one here is nice. Oh, but look Innie! That one comes in a set- Ah I'm getting ahead of myself aren't I?…” You bite back a giddy smile, gaze raking over every little detail, and Jeongin feels compelled to by the entire store seeing you so happy.

The diamonds glittered like little stars in your eyes, glinting in the high-end stores' ambient lights and pulling your attention in every direction. When Jeongin mentioned going out on a shopping spree, you hadn't expected him to take you here first, but who were you to complain? Not many men you knew would go to such lengths to celebrate a first anniversary, and even fewer would urge you to pick whatever you wanted without a budget.

You supposed Jeongin had far surpassed your expectations of a good partner long ago, but his tendency to spoil you at random wasn't something you'd gotten used to fully.

With a deep breath and a cheerful hum, you suggested a solution to your dilemma of choice. “How about you help me decide on a few choices, and we can go from there.” He holds your gaze for a long moment, smiling wide as your voice hangs in the air, soft and soothing in the quiet atmosphere.

The silent moment lengthens as he stares at you, unmistakably taken with your gentle doe eyes peering up into his piercing ones for an inevitable compromise.

“Seems fair to me,” Jeongin finally obliges your request, stepping so close that you must crane your neck to maintain eye contact with him. You nearly lose your breath after being so close, blushing intensely as he smirks at you. Even after a year, he managed to cluster you with ease, uncannily flirtatious on a whim, and incredibly full of himself -an unfortunately addictive trait of his you found domineering in every sense. You'd never considered letting him know it, though.

The impending tension oozing off Jeongin doesn't relent as you lower your eyes to his chest, smirking at the sight of your lipstick stains peeking through the collar of his shirt.

You intended to add a few more markings on him if he kept towering over you with a shameless glint behind his eyes. Jeongin wouldn't refuse the exchange either.

“What should I try on first, then,” you playfully cooed at him, glancing away from his skin to the sparkling white and gold jewelry on the pristine glass display counter.

One piece could easily be worth a year of your rent and bills combined….

Jeongin couldn't care less about the price of anything when it came to you, unable to put a price on your adoration for him and selfishly delighting in being the only man to put a smile on your face. “Let's see, this one and this piece would be a good start. I saw you eyeing these two as well..” He quickly pointed out his favorite pieces for you to try on, knowingly choosing a few you also favored. Your smile grew as his considerate nature shone through, watching his nimble and long fingers clad in silver rings gesture over various jewelry pieces. Jeongin could feel you eyeing him, merely stealing a sultry glance your way as he motioned the salesperson close again. “We’ll try these on first.” he identifies the items to them, and you watch as velvet-gloved hands remove a diamond tennis necklace, white gold lock bracelets, pure white rose studs with a matching locket, and finally, a three-stack silver and ruby ring with a low hanging charm necklace.

They were all so captivating in your eyes, each gleaming at the tips of Jeongins fingers as he scrutinized them. His touch was featherlight, but his focus was unwavering; specific scrutiny clouded his eyes as if every diamond needed to measure his standards or reflect his appreciation of you.

After a few moments of inspection, they seemed to pass his test, the diamond tennis necklace being the first to rest in his palm as he turned to face you. “Turn around,” he murmurs, a sweet but borderline smothering command. “Hm,” you chirp, afraid to speak in case a tremor of anticipation slipped through it, willing yourself to exhale correctly as you turn on your heel to face the nearest full-length mirror.

God, please don't do this to me…

Your breath catches again as Jeongin stares you down through the reflective surface, not so innocently drinking in your appearance, teeth catching his bottom lip as his eyes finally catch yours. The look was clear, somewhat frightening to you in such a public place, but exciting nonetheless. He wasn't shy about eye fucking you in others' presence since the beginning of your relationship, but this instance felt entirely different from the other times. The usual jolt of pleasure you felt heightened realizing the difference in his desire, those cunning eyes of his shrouding a hidden intent, and one you couldn't quite figure out at the moment.

The weight of his stare keeps your heart racing, numbing your thoughts to dull white noise as he steps close to you, invading your space like always but making it a point not to touch you directly. It's almost sickening how much you want to break for him right then, stilling a soft whimper of his name in a rushed breath as he holds the dainty necklace up in front of you both. He doesn't spare the jewelry a glance as he speaks lowly, pacing his words as he studies your more petite figure shrouded in his larger frame, “I don't think you need another necklace, baby.. You already have one specially made for you anytime you want it..” he leans in closer, breathing fanning the back of your neck and lobe of your ear in gentle waves as his free hand slithers up your chest to grasp your neck gently….

“Mm-” you gulp down a moan as he squeezes your throat, letting the metal of his rings sink into your skin like a branding iron before placing a chaste kiss on the juncture of your jaw and neck. The smile on his face feels evident on your skin, warming it with sudden heat and making you forget where the two of you were. He seems to fail, too, taking the chance to nip at your ear playfully, earning a surprised flinch from you. “J-Jeongin, we are in public-” you protest in a whisper, cheeks a red hue as he relents his hold on you and pretends that nothing vulgar has happened, but the pleased expression on his face says otherwise.

“You say that as if it'll stop me, honey. It won't…” he cockily responds, the bright smile returning in full force as you glare at him in response. “You’re such a shameless pervert,” you mutter back, knowing the insult won't phase him but rather rile him up further.

He doesn't mask his lack of cordialness, always entertained by small thing like you pointing out his schemes with an attitude of a propriety despite enjoying his public admvaces. “Dont be so mean, baby. I'm only having a little fun…” Jeongin lifts the necklace with both hands and you carefully move your hair to let him clasp it around your neck. The glimmer it gives off compliments your skin, drawing your attention like a magnet, but it's quickly refocused as he whispers in your ear again.

“And don't act like you don't get all worked up when I do.”

If your cunt wasn't weeping before, it indeed was now, crying to be touched by him and distracting you for the rest of the time you spent trying on jewelry.

Jeongin took every chance to mess with you, subtly rough with you each time he made you try on a piece, cooing in your ear how pretty you looked in each one, and purposefully giving you no personal space if no one was paying the two of you any particular attention.

He couldn't help himself.

Each time, you shivered closer to him as cold jewels touched your heated skin, making his chest tight with greed for more. The picture-perfect image of you all dolled up, admiring diamonds he'd gladly give you and so willingly allowing his advances to continue. Every necklace around your neck prompted him to replace it with his hand again, a growing addiction he couldn't wait to satiate and savor all at once. The softness of your smaller hands rests on him as you trace over silver and gold. The confidence in your opinions on each piece slowly dwindles with every whispered promise of him fucking you in them later, and your will to be indifferent is completely forgotten as he swipes his card for it all.

It drove Jeongin insane, so much so that the rest of your date went unfinished, put on complete stand-by as he dragged you into his dorm.

You stumbled behind him as the electronic door clicked shut, trying to giggle as he kicked his shoes off, dropped his coat and keys on the couch, and practically did the same steps for you.

There was no use in telling him you could do those tasks yourself; he gave no time even to discuss the mundane steps and swept you into his bedroom seconds later.

“Jeongin… oh fuck!-” You squeal as he kicks the door shut, tugging his shirt off as you trip back into his bed from the force of his shove. You move to stand up and help him undress, but he's much faster than you. His body slides between your legs, the coarse black fabric of his jeans an excellent contrast to the overly warm skin of your thighs, and you groan quietly from the contact. “Wait…” you mumble helplessly, eyes sliding shut as he leans forward, a hand finding your neck while the other reaches for his belt. You stare in awe, watching his fingers work the silver button out, the zipper pulled down next, but the band of his boxers is left untouched as he holds your jaw upwards. “Wait? For what, hun? Haven't we done enough of that today?..” he croons at you, inching closer until you have no choice but to lay flat underneath him with your gaze fixed on his.

Dryness invades your mouth seeing his eyes darken, cunt starting to pulse his name the longer he stares, and the apparent bulge of cock pressing on you not helping at all. Jeongin reads the depravity taking over your expression, growing hot when you squirm underpin helplessly, chasing his lips for a heated kiss that initiated messier ones after. You gripped at his forearms, nails digging into his skin as his muscles flexed under your touch, intending you trailed them into his amber hair.

His tongue dived for yours, toying with it until you were out of breath, drool slipping down both your chins as he pulled back a bit. You tried to speak but gasped instead as he choked you a little more complicated, smiling as your eyes rolled back, and a soft whimper flew past your lips on instinct. Jeongin should've felt ashamed of how his heart soared seeing you so distraught because of him, how tiny you looked, struggling to breathe under his hold, but all he could think about was doing it again with his covk buried in you.

It was all you could fathom, smiling like a fool as he loosened his grip seconds later to kiss you softly as an unspoken apology. “Too much?..” he inquired quietly, ready to stop himself from doing it again if you were uncontrollable. Still, the delighted hum you responded with said otherwise. “Do it again…as much as you want,” you breathed into his ear as his lips found other skin to attack, baring down on your jeweled neck before trailing to the collar of your top.

Jeongin lifted his eyes to yours, one look you understood well enough not to ask what it meant, and nodding complicity to. He kissed the valley of your breasts as a wordless thank you, sitting you both up to strip your top half naked. You shivered as cool air hit your skin, the chill soon dulled away as he laid ontop of you again.

His hands wandered your body, playing with the flesh of your breasts and rolling your nipples to stiff peaks between his fingers. Your curves got plenty of his attention, groped at every opportunity when you arched up against him, arms around his neck to keep him close for one tongue kiss after the next. “So cute..” Jeongin mumbled as you moaned against his lips, fingers wrapping around your throat like a missing puzzle piece, and you tugged his hair in response as the added pressure made your new diamond choker dig into your skin.

He smirks at the slight pain in your eyes, “Hurts?”

You nod as best you can, hips unconsciously raising to meet his as fear-induced heat floods your core. Jeongin smiles wide, “Awe, you poor, sweet, little thing… it's supposed to.” his voice turns ice cold, matching the force he uses to pin you down underneath him as he hikes your skirt to rest above your hips and tugs at your panties so hard threads audibly rip.

You want to panic as the need to breathe hits, but you can't bring yourself to as his free hand slips past your underwear to cup the soaked mound hidden there. Stars pickle your vision as he prods his middle finger on the first, carefully timed strokes of your inner walls, causing them to clench down on it, and he adds another to challenge the reaction. Jeongin groans, seeing your thighs quiver violently, slowly getting slick with cum the longer he pumps his fingers into you, “You're tight as ever, baby. Haven't been filled in a while since I've been gone…almost makes me feel bad.”

His taunting sounds distant, only becoming apparent when his grip on your neck loosens, “J-Jeong- god!” you hiss as he adds a third finger, twisting and stretching them with lethal intent. Your legs open wider on his bed, hands fisting the covers and his wrist, but your eyes staring far off into space as he coaxed your climax out. “Don’t wanna come yet…” you protest quietly as he leans down to spit on your cunt, pushing it further in you with a satisfied hum, and you shudder as the new substance taints your insides. “Oh, but I want you to, little one. I gave you such a pretty gift today, and it'd be wrong not to get my money's worth..” he feigned concern, curling his fingers to hit your sweet spot on, knowing he hit it when you yelped and nodded your head vigorously in agreement.

“Yes! Yes!… Yes, Innie, please!” you tried to stay still but felt a particular rush hit that had you crying out and trying to run from him instead. Jeongin halted your attempts with a squeeze on your neck and deliberately slowly circled his thumb on your clit. The contrast of no air and sudden stimulation made you come undone in seconds, come gushed onto his hand like a small river. You groaned as he worked you through the high, not caring at all that you squirted all over his hand and sheets.

He only wanted more after the fact, commenting on how wonderous your release was like he'd won a prize, “All that from a small thing like you. How lucky am I, hm?” Jeongin slipped his hand from between your shaking thighs, passing his come-coated fingers up your body until they reached your lips. His cock twitched as you mindlessly kitten licked them, tears treating to run from your eyes as you sucked on them gently. Even your mouth felt confining, struggling to take his fingers but still willing to, and the apparent tight fit left him reeling.

Too tired to think straight, you lapped at his fingers like candy, occasionally gagging as drool dribbled down your chin, and the unexpected air loss beginning to make you dizzy but not delirious enough to pass out.

The feeling of his bare cock finally resting on your slit brought you back to your senses in a matter of minutes. His fingers left your mouth empty, the spit on them used to lubricate his length from tip to base. You watched in a daze as he pumped his fist twice, his low moans clouding your thoughts and the sight of his skin collecting a thin sheen of sweat along with the love-drunk expression on his face, burning memory in them.

“Jeongin..” you call out to him sweetly, meeting his gaze as he pushes into slowly, groaning your name like a practiced melody as your cunt throbs against every inch of length. “Relax..” he warns you, breathless as you stare at him wistfully, willing your body to do as he asks. The stretch of his cock is familiar, welcoming even, but it still has a burning edge to it. He's a lot to take on a good day, taking your breath away with one stroke and tearing you apart with the next. “Trying..” you whisper against his lips as he lowers his head to rest on yours, not breaking eye contact as he buries himself to the hilt in your warm walls.

“Mmm, and you doing so well, too,” he praises you quietly, losing his breath as he drags his hips back to slam back in a bit harder than the first time. You jolt under him, moaning loudly while locking your legs around his hips to keep him deep. “Selfish, aren't we?” Jeongin chuckles at your attempt to keep him still, admiring the lazy smile on your lips as you nod yes, not caring if he could break away with no effort.

Only an hour ago, you asked him for a piggyback ride to his car, tired from walking around the shopping center, taking advantage of his taller stature for your gain. Now, here you were begging him to invade your smaller one and stay inside it, and the stark difference had his blood running hot.

Jeongin could overpower you, and in turn, you begged him to.

The hold you had on him didn't last long as the realization crossed his mind, sabotaged by his decision to unlock your legs from his waist before pressing your thighs up and open for unrestricted control. “Oh god damn it!..” you drawled helplessly as he grinned down at you, clearly proud of himself as he began to pound into you at his own pace. Fast and direct thrusts that had your toes curling, chest heaving, and insides twisting with pleasure. Your head lulled back, eyes fluttering shut as Jeongins definitive hits abused your sweet spot and forced your body to comply with his size.

Jeongin hissed as your neck came into his blurred view, red lines from his rings and your new necklace evident, but the actual detail captivating him was the light bruises his fingertips left. He'd have to make up for the blemishes later, but for now, he wanted to add more, taken by how fragile you looked underneath him and quite proud of his handwork.

You felt the coil in your stomach tighten, cum leaking from where you two connected, and your head emptying of any thoughts the closer he brought you to coming again. He studied every movement you made, how your body tensed when his cock entirely nestled into you, the immediate rise of your lower stomach when he went further, and the tremor in your moans strengthening as he fucked you into a complete stupor.

She's so tiny…so soft… so fucking warm.

He reveled in the observations, bringing himself to his end and driving him to hit you harder. The firm grip of both his hands around your throat left you disoriented, on the verge of snapping as he restricted your breaths while simultaneously giving your cunt deliberate strokes. You claw at his wrists just as it became too much, a relieved scream erupting from you as your high crashed down.

Jeongin smiles at you incredulously, taken aback but nowhere near displeased.

“That's what gets you off, little one? Being fucked like a slut. Come on, tell me the truth,” he teases you lowly. His gaze shifted from your face contorted in pleasure to the cream cum ring connecting you both. He watches your mouth fall open as he fucks you through a second high. “Hmm, n-no!” you try to answer but give up as words allude to you, replaced by cries of his name. His hips are faster for a second, cock twitching inside you as your nails prick his wrists.

He's close, and you take advantage of that, putting pressure on his hand to choke you harder, and he takes the hint in a split second.

“Tell me if it's too much…” Jeongin grunts loudly, hips snapping faster and breaths coming short as your cubt involuntarily closes in on his cock. The pleasurable aftershock of his thrusts adds to the tingling buzz engulfing your body as oxygen leaves your lungs. You want to answer him, want to breathe even, but can't while gasping for air while the coil in your tummy snaps to pieces.

“Shit! Fuck!” his voice vibrates the room, guttural whines tumbling from his mouth as your arousal spills on him for the second time, but the distracting feelings, unless his form and the pressure on your throat vanishes. “Jeongin!…” you gasp for air, shaking uncontrollably as the world returns to focus for you.

He laughs dryly, hearing you shout his name first despite being on the brink of passing out seconds ago, a proud grin plastered on his face when your gaze fogs over, and the last of his patience leaving at the sight.

“Dont move..” he buffs, and you nod obediently, mewling quietly as a familiar warmth envelops your cunt, his release streaming down your slit as he slowly pulls out. Jeongin appears mildly entranced at the mixture, tapping your thigh appreciatively, and you whine at the gentle contact. “Easy, hun.” he saunters closer, clearly just as exhausted as you are, slumping beside you to catch his breath. You blink the haze from your eyes, able to land back on earth with little effort, but your body still feels unsteady as you could up close to him.

“Never knew you were into that Innie,” you whisper hoarsely, lips grazing the skin of his shoulder blade. He shudders violently, sensitive to your broken voice and mentally fixed on the high you shared. His brows turn downward, jovial confusion in his expression as he lifts his head, “Into what, babe?” You giggle at the question, assuming he'd been fully aware of his new kink, but obviously, he wasn't, which amused you.

“Choking, silly. You almost made me pass out…not that I would mind.” you fall flat onto your back as he laughs tiredly, “I'm not, but you are.” his retort is definite, an observation, and one you don't negate.

“True, but that's not the only thing new for you, Innie…”

He shifts, standing to begin cleaning you both up, and you sit up to follow but halt as he kneels to take off your skirt and ripped panties. “And what do you mean by that?” Jeongin peers at you curiously, taking his time to undress you. “Hm, I don't know… I just got the feeling you like that I'm smaller than you. You've never been so rough before, and it was nice to be treated so….easily.”

A smile crosses your face as he freezes, eyes narrowing up at you, “Now, look who's the pervert..” His teasing makes you scowl at him briefly; a solid thump on his head follows, “M’ not a percert!..”

“Says the girl, pointing out my kinks-”

He flinches and laughs as you lunge at him, catching you the moment your weight pins him to the ground, “You talk a lot of shit Yang Jeongin…” you hiss playfully.

Your hands raise to pinch his cheeks but Jeongin is quicker, gripping your wrists with one hand, and the other grasping your hip. “Ah!” you squeal in surprise as he flips over, holding you down while you wriggle under his weight.

The struggle is electrifying and playful but tense. The exact excitement he felt earlier bloomed again, seeing you put up a fight to lose when his lips met your parted ones.

You were right.

He'd never admit it.

—————————————————————

This was my first request since being gone so long. I feel like I did okay, but please give me feedback cause I don't know if my style has changed since then. Anyway, I love you, babies, and thank you for all the love and support!

[ BONUS CONTENT + ]

You know, if I had a dollar for every time I imagined how good Jeongin might look fucked out, I'd be a millionaire already. (I'm back on my unhinged shit, as you can see) credit to the creator. 🖤

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444lec33 · 3 days

Text

The Arrangement // Mafia!Lando x Reader

WC: 1.7k

Warnings: none that I can think of

No descriptions of reader's physical appearance

Author's note: This was so fun to write, I hope you guys enjoy it 🧡

“I can’t believe you’re making me do this,” you sighed looking incredulously up at the ceiling.

“Well believe it because he’ll be here any minute,” your father said sitting behind his desk.

There was a quick knock on the office door before it parted to reveal your mother standing there, an exaggerated grin on her face. She beckoned you closer and you went to her begrudgingly. She grabbed your chin looking you over and started smoothing out your outfit.

“You know how much this means for both our families. Don't embarrass us now, sweetie.”

You rolled your eyes and refused to respond as he three of you trekked the halls leading to wherever your soon-to-be husband was.

He was standing there looking rather curiously at the art work that adorned the ornate dining room.

You hated the sound of your name on his lips and the cheeky grin that accompanied it as he turned around. Your arms were folded in irritation as you gave a simple greeting, letting the awkwardness grow.

“Sweetheart, why don’t you show Lando the rose garden?” Your mother chided hopefully, knowing that without being prompted you would never move things along for Lando’s visit. You were going to make a joke about the future kingpin’s disinterest in flowers before Lando spoke up with a playful tone.

“I would love that.” Oh he was eating this up.

“It’ll be good for you two to have some alone time before the wedding.” Your father remained silent as your overzealous mother aligned the pieces to connect your family to the most notorious mob in the country.

Lando was all too excited to appease your mother’s wishes. A rough palm reached out and collected your hand dragging you towards the back entrance of your home.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I don’t know anything about you.”

Your finance rolled his eyes before responding to your claim. “We’ve known each other for years, and this” he motioned between the two of you. “Was something we always knew would happen. No point in complaining,” he shrugged seeming as carefree as he always appeared for someone in his position.

But Lando was right. You’d both grown up in relative proximity to one another, your families’ mafia ties linking the two of you in ways that ran deeper than you’d ever comprehend.

“Alright fine,” you threw up your hands while standing up in front of him. “If we’re gonna do this we’re doing it my way.”

Lando nodded, the appearance of his dimples telling you how comical he found your sudden interest in your present circumstances. “Ask away, love. Whatever you want and it’s yours.”

You hummed before rattling off the shortlist of needs you’d like to be met before you walked down the aisle to marry the mafia prince.

“Well for starters I want a ring. I big one. Like really big. Do not get me anything princess cut. Too predictable and cheap looking.” Lando was going to interject but you continued. “I don’t care if it’s gold or silver as long as it looks classy. Maybe a nice cushion cut or a Marquise. Dutch marquise,” you quickly added. “Oh and I wear a size 7.”

Lando took your brief pause as an opportunity to speak. “Should I be taking notes on all this,” he laughed and licked his lips clearly having fun with your pre-wedding demands. “Alright, now that I know what you want I promise I’ll deliver.” You knew he wasn’t lying. The Norris’ family was one of the wealthiest around, their fortune managed to dwarf the elaborate lifestyle your family’s own mob ties afforded you.

“Okay, good. Glad we got that out of the way. Now if you’ll excuse me,” you pointed your thumb in the direction of your home, “I’d like to get back to enjoying the rest of my night.”

Lando was quick to his feet, his hand catching your wrist as you started towards the large mansion. “We’ve spent all night going over what you want, don’t you even care about what I’d like?” He questioned with a playful glimmer in his watercolored eyes.

“I couldn’t care less,” you turned and began walking again before Lando stopped you, grabbing your shoulders and spinning you to face him.

“That really hurts you know.” You rolled your eyes and glared at him. Leave it to Lando to make this situation into a joke.

“Fine, what do you want? Separate houses? A girlfriend on the side? Whatever it is I really don’t care.”

“Honestly…” he trailed off, his hand rubbing nervously at the back of his neck. “I want us to give this a shot.” The words had barely left his mouth before you’d started laughing. “Okay, sure laugh at me but I’m being serious. Think about it this way; in a few weeks time we’ll be legally bound to each other and all the other bullshit that entails for the rest of our lives. You’ll probably, no definitely, be the mother of my kids.”

His words were making you feel things you wish you didn’t. As irritated as you were with this entire scheme your two families created you knew there was nothing you could ever do to escape it. Would leaning into it really be so bad? What’s the worst that could happen? Before you could interject with one of the million and one reasons you could think of to not forge a real relationship Lando spoke again.

“You don’t have to decide now, whatever decision you make I’ll respect it.” You swallowed the lump that had grown heavy in your throat. “Oh and what you said earlier? I don’t want some girl on the side or whatever you want to call it. I’m actually willing to give us a try and I hope you’ll do the same.”

You gaped at him, eyes wide. No dick on the side, no way. The words refused to leave your mouth but you nodded, hoping to bring the conversation to a close.

“I have eyes everywhere, but I’m sure you already know that. If I were you I’d tie up any loose ends before the wedding.” It took a moment for you to realize what he was indicating. But how could you ever forget who Lando Norris truly was. If you were to ever go behind his back he would know, and from the looks of it things wouldn’t end to well for you or your paramour.

“Okay fine, you win.”

A shit-eating grin spread across his perfectly structured face. “I win,” he said more to himself, clearly enjoying the taste of the words in his mouth. “I do have one more condition before we really do this.”

Your eyes didn’t deviate from his as you waited for him to get on with it. “I want a kiss.”

“Alright great talk but no. Have a great night!” You were practically sprinting to get inside but Lando was quick on his feet catching you almost instantly. “You know you really need to stop running away all the time. That’s something we’ll need to work on.” The proximity between the two of you was closer than ever. If it weren’t for his tight grip you would have squirmed under Lando’s heavy gaze.

He reached out to grab you chin making sure your eyes were trained on him. “Better now than the first one be in front of everyone we know. Let’s consider this practice for D-day.”

Practice. Sure.

“Okay,” you whispered before your better judgement could stop you. Lando was confident taking the lead as his lips came close to yours. Nothing could have prepared you for the feel of his plush lips against your. As the kiss dragged on you slowly felt the tension you’d harbored before leaving your body. Why did he have to be such a good kisser.

It felt like forever before the two of you separated, an awkward pause hanging in the air as you tried to separate your hate for your pre-planned life from the growing lust you were feeling for your future husband. Lando removed his jacket and draped it over your shoulders. He pulled you close to him as he guided you the short trek from the rose garden to your home.

If you looked even half as disoriented as you felt it was probably best to stave off the embarrassment and head straight upstairs. You reluctantly turned around at the sound of your fiancé calling your name. You cast your gaze down to the end of the spiral stairwell where he stood. “I’ll see you next Saturday.”

There were question marks swarming your head as you tried to figure out what he was talking about. Tonight was intense enough, what else would he need to see you for?

Lando swiped his hand against his facial hair barely trying to hide the pleasure he felt by catching you off guard. He tilted his head to the side, dimples more prominent than ever.

“Saturday night. Our engagement party.”

Oh. Ohhhh.

“Right. Okay, yeah.” You mentally kicked yourself for forgetting the second most important date on your calendar for the foreseeable future.

“I think a week should give you enough time to think about our little chat.” You were more likely to be ruminating over that kiss.

At this point you were drained. Words were too much so you just flashed him a thumbs up and trusted one of the maids to show him out. “Goodbye Lando,” you called over your shoulder ready to hide away in your room for the rest of eternity.

“Goodnight wifey.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When you finally reached your room you found yourself drawn to the window. You opened it up, not so subtly peaking at your fiancé’s black McLaren as it exited the gates. The sound of your phone vibrating on your bed pulled your attention from the sleek car growing distant from your home. You plopped down on your bed, body still wrapped in the warm jacket Lando covered you with. Looking at the device you noted several missed messages and calls. Some from your girl friends, and even more from your friends friends. You pulled a throw pillow close to you as you got comfortable scanning through your messages.

Charles

Still on for tomorrow?

Lewis

Missed FaceTime

Max

2 Missed calls. 1 Voicemail.

Time to tie up those loose ends…

#lando norris #lando x reader #lando norris x you #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fic #formula 1 #f1 x you #woc!reader #f1 x black!reader #lando norris x black!reader

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pinkanonwrites · 3 days

Note

I absolutely love the head canon of cybertronians using EM fields to communicate their feelings to their partners and or love interests. I imagine a tiny human not really being able to pick it up but oh boy the other mechs around sure know that they have a "keen" interest in them.

YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS E.M. Field communication is one of my FAVORITE Transformers tropes. If it wasn't already blatantly obvious by how I write, I'm a huge sucker for any tropes that really elevate how different Cybertronians are from humans. I mean, they're giant alien robots from space! Why wouldn't they have unique and different means of communication?

Likewise, I have a fondness for the 'painfully obvious romantic feelings that are accidentally ignored because one person is hopefully oblivious' trope as well. You know who this trope works really well for? TFA Bumblebee and RID 2015 Sideswipe. Both would think they're so smooth and good at hiding their feelings about their particular favorite human, but it's so glaringly obvious to the rest of their team that they're utterly head over heels.

#transformers #transformers x reader #x reader #pink chat #tf headcanons #maccadam

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a66-1 · 2 days

Text

starving

part 1 | part 2 [you're here!]

Simon x Fem!Insecure!Reader.

finally got the idea for part 2. excited?

me too

TW: Talk of ed's, negative self talk, low self esteem, bad mouthing (from reader to herself, comes with the territory) cursing, self harm. i tried not to be too descriptive with the reader, so EVERY insecure girlie who reads this feels seen.

semi proofread bc who cares

The next morning was exhausting as the last.

You got up early to go running. If you ever have the chance, you run until the sun comes up. You need to stay fit if you want a boyfriend. It was easier when you were on your meds. Almost like you had the will to live those mornings.

You were back at the house around 8 am. You weren't scheduled for work today so... You headed back to bed and really, just slept the day away

You woke up around 5 pm. 5, really? God, you are just some depressed child.

You got out of bed for the second time, and changed into a dress. It was hard seeing yourself in a dress after 2 years. You stopped going out because alcoholism and anti-depressants aren't really two peas in a pod, are they?

Well this is why you quit. You dropped your therapist and your meds because you were better, and your mom stopped helping with the payments, and now you can go back to partying.

Minus the heavy drinking.

Hopefully.

You tear your eyes off yourself. If you stare too long, you'll end up convincing yourself to stay in bed longer. You configure the rest of your outfit, and grab a small black purse. Throwing your phone in it, you leave the house quicky. If you don't, you might properly convince yourself you're just as ugly as you thought..

The drive to the bar was silent, save from the honking cars around you. Fuck, what if this is the wrong idea? I mean the looks everyone will give you, you look so bad and so ugly and god this was such a bad--

You hear a car honk behind you. The light turned green. You lower your head, sighing, and taking a left.

Once at the bar, you slip into one of the seats nearer the back, feeling uncomfortable in the seat. Adjusting your dress down, you cringe while looking around the bar. There's so many pretty women here, and comparatively you are way under them.

You order a drink, sipping on the alcohol for the first time in months. Fuck, your therapist would be losing it if she knew you not only stopped meds but started drinking again...

You rested your head in your palm, watching others interact. Pretty women just have a way with men, a way you've never had. The buzz of the alcohol was enough to make you not question why nobody has interacted with you, other than the bartender. People probably think your such a loser, I mean, who would just sit here and drink--

"Hey. You're, uh.. That girl from yesterday right?" A gruff voice appears behind you. You flinch forward, whipping your head around.

Oh. This guy.

You slowly put your drink down, your palm over the top of it.

"And who are you?" You ask, eyeing the man. He didn't have his mask on. He was... Really cute.

"A customer." He sat next to me, his eyes trained on mine. I felt sort of flushed under his gaze.

Fuckin' small world.

You spent some of the night talking with him. Still don't know his name, or why you ran into him here, but you don't care nonetheless.

You were looking for sex this night but... Is a connection so bad?

Like you could make a connection with someone who is out of your league.

thank god i finished this. 3 drafts later, and im sorry its kinda short. trust part 3 is gonna have the good stuff, this is kinda a filler so it can get to the good stuff.

ily babes...

-a661

taglist:

@i-am-hungry-24-7 @arminarlertssword @haven-1307

#simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost x you #simon fluff #simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon ghost fluff

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adora-but-ginger · 2 days

Text

Aspersion

aspersion (noun): an attack on the reputation or integrity of someone or something; an accusation.

pairing: eventual spencer reid x gender neutral! reader

synopsis: in which spencer reid pushes a little too far

warnings: both spencer and the reader are assholes to each other a little, but it is justified! swearing (probs), typical cm violence and such, tension thicker than a cement wall

masterlist

word count: ~2.1k

a/n: hello and welcome to my first official criminal minds fic! all of the pieces in this anthology can most likely be read individually, but they will have connected themes throughout! please enjoy the first work in my "psych you out in the end" collection. want to be tagged? Let me know!

also casual reminder that this is glasses reid because i am gnawing at my enclosure over him

not proofread whoops

credit to gif owner!

It had been a long case. Five days in and little to no leads, yet a serial killer was still on the loose. This was your fourth case with the team now, most of which were still pretty apprehensive of your "psychological abilities." Penelope, who you've come to like the most, has been the kindest to you, even asking as far as for you to do her tarot. The rest of the team weren't as easygoing, but that wasn't the point right now.

It was of upmost importance to check out the latest crime scene, and you were paired with the hyper-suspicious Doctor Reid. He out of everyone trusted you the least, but now was the time to hopefully change that. He was a genius and you could read people, after all. You couldn't get a good read on him though, mostly because you two hadn't been around each other long enough to have more than a professional conversation. This was the first time it was the two of you, and you were going to make it count.

You could decipher anyone's aura, yet you were still a people pleaser. Ironic, almost.

"It looks like there was no forced entry, meaning that the unsub was someone they either knew or felt safe with." He darted his tongue between his lips after he spoke.

"Yeah, but aren't people in this neighborhood generally trusting? I think we should focus more on what he took." There was something itching at you about this scene, something that felt off.

You were a professional profiler, but you could just sense people's inner selves and auras--auras helped direct you into a person's mind and feelings. It varied per person and you weren't the best at explaining it, but you could tell a lot about someone if they even walked past you.

"Are you saying that the door might have been unlocked?"

"I'm saying it's a possibility."

Reid without a glance in your direction shook his head. "You know that's a very unlikely scenario, statistically women will secure their home much more than men, especially if they're living alone. Research also shows that when someone is under the impression that they can hold more than average strength either physically or mentally, they act out in irrational ways." He shrugged his eyebrows before murmuring quietly. "Like joining the FBI."

Did he just insult you? "Excuse me? Reid I'm just saying that we should shift our focus. Gideon said you had trust issues, but he didn't explain their severity." Had he really tried to undermine you in a way that he thought you wouldn't notice?

"Gideon makes decisions that could end up hurting the team more than helping them sometimes."

Okay now that was a diss. Wasn't he the one who hired Reid, too? You had dealt with people like this before, and you weren't going to let him get to you. "Let's just finish up and go meet up with everyone else."

The unsub was found and arrested two days later. Ironically, he was entering through unlocked doors, a detail that you were sure Reid was not too happy with when he found out. You were all on the jet ride home now, and would be here for the next few hours. This was the farthest case from Quantico yet, meaning the team finally had time to interrogate and learn more about you. Something that Emily and Derek were jumping at.

"Can you read my mind?"

"Can you tell what I want for dinner?"

"Can you tell when it's going to rain?"

They had both sat down across from you simultaneously, overwhelming you art first.

"Okay hold on." You threw your hands out slightly as a cue for them to stop. "Kind of, no, and yes--I check the weather station."

"Huh." Emily scrunched up her face, another question brewing. "So how does this psychic-ness work?"

You took a deep breath before starting. "I can just read you. Yes, like a profiler reads you, but also more than that. Profilers can only see the outside, but I can see the inside as well."

"Prove it." Derek crossed his arms. "Inside profile me."

Now that was a choice of words.

You held a finger up. "I will only if you promise to never say that phrase to me again."

He looked to Prentiss before a smile broke out. "Looks like they've got jokes, too."

A quiet laugh escaped you before continuing. "That I do. What do you want to know, Morgan?"

"My deepest-darkest secret." He said it in a joking manner, but you shook your head none the same.

"You don't want me to share that."

"I guess I don't. What do you really have for me, though?"

You took a second to really look at him, to see what he was hiding behind that smile--you were going to keep it light of course. You could look farther if you wanted, but the farther back you went the vaguer your readings were. "When were you going to tell everyone that you like Britney Spears?"

And just like that, you knew the two of them believed you now. Because the price on Derek Morgan's face was one that you wish you had a photo of. Emily's jaw dropped, eyes widening. "You refused to listen to her with me last week, traitor!"

Derek's mouth was also agape--he was flabbergasted. Eyebrows raised, he shook his head. "Fine, I believe you. Say no more. Please." His reaction made you chuckle, and it was all fun and games until Reid strode over, taking the seat next to you.

"You know, almost every public claiming psychic is usually a scammer or a fake. In fact--"

A groan escaped you. "Seriously? This again?"

"Yes! It was an incredibly irrational choice on Gideon to--"

The upbeat mood quickly dissipated, your temper going along with it. "Listen Reid, I don't need to explain myself to you. But, out of the kindness of my heart, I'm going to say this once." Emily and Derek''s eyes were bouncing between the two of you. "I don't announce it publicly, hence why "that is"psychic" is not my legal title. Second, I'm good at what I do, that's why I'm here. Believe me or not, but I can see right through you and your defenses."

The air took a tone that you didn't quite appreciate now, but he started this.

"You don't know a thing about me, in-in fact you don't know a thing about anyone, much less who I am." Annoyance was seeping through his words, and you were getting tired of his passive-aggressiveness. "You show up here being a so-called 'psychic'," his fingers went into air quotes at your title. "Yet you haven't done anything besides getting a confession out of one individual? Sounds like someone doesn't know how to handle being around actual profilers."

You wanted to slap the guy. But here you were again, taking the high road. "I'm too tired for this. If you want to doubt what I can do, fine. It's nothing I haven't dealt with before." You clenched your jaw and took a couple deep breaths to control your oncoming frustration. The conversation was over now, there was nothing left for him to say. How dare he insult your profiling skills too? How dare he--

"How have you been able to get this far lying?"

It was the straw on the camel's back, that line. He wouldn't drop it, and now he was going to face the consequences. You inched your head slowly to face his own, steadying your breaths even more, so you could make sure your words wouldn't get you fired this early on.

You looked into his eyes, really looking into him. The emotions he gave off, the way he held himself, his aura. If he was going to bash you for days in hopes of getting a response, he won. He was probably expecting you to give a grandiose speech on how you don't know what you're doing or how you just have really lucky guesses, but if there was one thing that you learned from people like him, it was that if they keep striking low, you strike lower.

Screw the high road, screw him undermining your talent, and screw people like him that thought they could get away with thinking their actions didn't have consequences.

You really saw him then, squinting slightly as you looked him up and down in the seat, the team around you remaining quiet as to remain listening to the rising tif. You could see right through him, see that he had some real parental issues, but had a overshadowing amount of loneliness surrounding his self, his mind, his body. It was vague, but it was there, and there is all you needed.

You leaned back as if to get comfortable, maintaining your eye contact. "When was the last time someone you cared about actually stayed in your life, Spencer?" You spoke nonchalantly, like you were discussing the weather.

You could feel the tangible tension that thrummed through the air from the two across from you at your words, and you knew you hit home. As to solidify your unanswered question, you saw a tiny twitch in his eyelid that responded more than any words could.

"Um Morgan? I think JJ called our names. We should go." Emily nudged the man and nodded to the back of the jet.

"What? No one has said anything. You're losing it, Prentiss."

"Derek, we're going." Her eyes went between you and Spencer to drive the point, and he finally picked it up after a second.

"Oh. Oh. Yeah, yeah I agree. JJ?" He called out. "We're coming!"

It was just the two of you now.

He broke eye contact with you after your words, and you moved in towards him as you lowered your voice to a whisper. "I see you for your inner workings, Reid. There's a reason I am good at what I do, and it is because I see you for how you see yourself. You do not want to make an enemy out of me."

His voice was caught in his throat for a second, mouth dropping slightly. He cleared his throat momentarily. "Are you threatening me?" Clear avoidance of your statement.

"No, Reid, I'm offering an olive branch. I suggest you take it." His silence prompted you further. "Besides your consistent digs at me, you're really good at what you do. Your brain quite literally runs a mile a minute, and my brain can see that. I am trying my best to chalk this all up to me being new, but I am really not appreciating all of this heat, it is extremely frustrating. You have your methods, I have mine. I'll give you some time to decide whether to accept this olive branch or not, but we would offer this team much more if you used those smarts of yours alongside mine, not against." Your chest was heaving slightly as the fire in your eyes blazed, but he finally got the message. "This will be the only time I'm offering this up." You turned away from him, needing a break.

You heard him shuffle and leave the seat next to you as you watched the clouds whiz by in the jet. It really sucked that he was cute too. All the adorable ones had to get you riled up, didn't they?

You felt a brief weight lift off of your shoulders as you heard Gideon speak to everyone on the plane about having the weekend off. Thank goodness.

That Monday you waltzed into the bullpen, a nice pep to your step after a break from everything. Iced drink in your hand, you set down your bag as you prepped yourself for the onslaught of paperwork awaiting you.

You had just gotten comfortable when you felt a tap on your shoulder and a familiar clear of a throat.

You swiveled in your chair, facing the tall man. "'Yes?"

"The oldest olive tree is known to be anywhere between two thousand to four thousand years old, but the specific age is currently being studied."

You took a sip of your drink as you looked up at him in confusion. "Good morning to you as well?"

He clenched his jaw quickly before continuing. "I''m saying yes. I accept the branch. It doesn't make sense to me and you infuriate me a little bit, but I want to work on it."

For the first time, but certainly not the last, you genuinely smiled at him.

And maybe he was losing all touches with reality, because he could feel his heart skip.

taglist: @alllriseabove @kitty-kei

#psych you out in the end #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #bau #criminal minds x reader #gender neutral reader #criminal minds fanfiction

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lulublack90 · 2 days

Text

Prompt 14 - Forgotten First Meeting

@wolfstarmicrofic May 14, word count 964

Sirius had been set up on a blind date by his brother's best friend, Pandora. She’d declared she was tired of seeing him moping about with no one to love and demanded he allow her to set him up. Sirius apparently had no choice in the matter, and he couldn’t explain why he hadn’t just sacked it off and not turned up to the restaurant. But he had, and he’d even spruced himself up a bit.

“Table for two, should be under Black, might be Lovegood.” He told the host waiting just inside the restaurant.

“Ah, yes, here we are two for Lovegood. Will your guest be arriving soon?” The host looked behind Sirius as though his date would just materialise out of thin air.

“Hopefully,” He told the man. “It’s a blind date, so you never know.” The host nodded sagely, as though he got that a lot.

“Ms Lovegood, enjoys sending her projects to us. She’s never once had a no show, I might add.” Sirius felt himself redden. He and Pandora would be having words. “Right this way Mr Black, we have your table all set up.” Sirius followed him into a corner where a small table was set for two. It felt very intimate already.

“Thanks,” He gave a half smile to the man before he sat down. He opened the menu and glanced at the dishes.

“Can I get you a drink Sir?” Asked a waiter.

“Oh, yes. Gin and Tonic, please.”

“Right away, Sir.” The waiter bustled off.

A tall, bean pole of a man stopped beside his table. Sirius looked up and up and up from his seat. The man was well over six feet tall and fit as fuck. Sirius felt his insides do a little jig. Pandora had done good. His date didn’t look as impressed.

Sirius jumped to his feet.

“Hi, Sirius Black.” He told the giant, holding out his hand for him to shake.

“Remus Lupin.” The giant responded, engulfing his hand with his own. Sirius’s heart stuttered as he imagined those hands somewhat lower on his body.

“Sit, please, sit,” Sirius stammered, “Do you want a drink? Er.” He looked around for the waiter and was relieved to see him walking towards him with his drink on a tray.

“Here you are, Sir.” The waiter said, placing Sirius’s gin and tonic on the table in front of him. “Would you like anything, Sir?” He asked Remus.

“Whisky, neat, please” Remus replied. The waiter disappeared again.

“So, Remus. How do you know Pandora?” Sirius dove in, not comfortable with silences. Remus narrowed his eyes.

“We went to school together.” Was the only answer he gave. Right, thought Sirius, short and blunt. This was going to be difficult.

The waiter returned with Remus’s drink.

“Do you know what you would like to order or do you need a minute?” Sirius looked over to Remus. Neither of them had looked at the menu properly.

“I think we might need a minute, thanks.” Sirius smiled weakly at the waiter.

“Steak, rare, please.” Remus said as he glanced at the menu. The waiter looked at Sirius, who quickly looked down at the list of mains.

“Erm, I’ll have the chicken chasseur please.” He handed the menu to the waiter, and they were back to silence again.

“So, er, what do you do, Remus?” Sirius broke the silence. Remus scoffed this time.

“I work in a library,” He said bluntly.

“Wow, I bet that's interesting,” Sirius pushed a bit.

“I’ve been digitising all the old records. It’s mind-numbing.” Remus looked around as though trying to find the nearest exit.

“Have you found anything interesting in the old records?” Sirius tried again.

“No,” This wasn’t going well.

“Sorry, have I done something wrong?” Sirius asked. They’d barely been there ten minutes, and he couldn’t think what he could have done in such a short time to anger him so much.

“Do you really not remember?” Remus snapped. Sirius shook his head, taken aback by Remus’s tone. “Are you serious?!” Sirius had to bite his tongue not to respond how he usually would to that question. When he didn’t answer, Remus went on. “We’ve already met. You’ve been to my flat. Slept in my bed, amongst other things.” Sirius stared at him, trying his hardest to remember.

Remus shook his head in aggravation and one of the wall lights glinted off a silvery scar running across his face and Sirius remembered.

“Oh my God, Remus!” He hit his forehead with his palm. How could he have forgotten? He’d been so drunk that night and in the morning Regulus had rung him crying about something their mother had said to him. Sirius had had to sneak out to go calm his brother down. He hadn’t gotten Remus’s number and had forgotten where the flat was.

That had been months ago and Sirius had never been very good with faces. “I’m so sorry.” He pleaded for forgiveness and explained what had happened. Remus still seemed a bit grumpy, but he stayed. They ate their meals and Sirius treated him to a big piece of chocolate cake as an apology. Remus cheered up after that.

“So,” Sirius said shyly to him once he’d paid the bill. “Will you see me again or did I totally blow it last time?” He looked up through his eyelashes, knowing full well what effect that had on people. Remus closed his eyes for a moment, but gave in.

“Yeah, go on then.” He grinned. “Fancy a night cap? At yours this time, that way you can’t sneak out,” Sirius beamed at him and, taking his hand, practically dragged him from the restaurant. He could just hear the host chuckling to himself as the door closed behind them.

#wolfstar #wolfstar microfic #wolfstar au #wolfstar fic #wolfstar angst #sirius black #remus lupin #sirius orion black #remus john lupin #regulus black #pandora lovegood #sirius x remus #remus x sirius #sirius and remus #remus and sirius #things happened sirius #chocolate makes everything better #remus and his chocolate #forgotten first meeting

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pochicore · 2 days

Text

♡ i love you cake!

» han jisung x gn!reader blurb.

wc: 662 genre: fluff

a/n: based on that little incorrect quote that's like person a gives person b a cake that says "i love you!" and person b responds with "i love you too cake!" // also a part of my skz, i love u! blurb series

“So I was trying to share my feelings with Y/N the other day,” Jisung begins. He can hardly believe he’s telling his friends this, but he has no one else to turn to. Hopefully they’re actually listening to him this time and not paying all their attention to the Mario Kart game in front of them. “I got them a cake and everything, right? So the cake says 'I love you' on it and it’s decorated with tiny spirnkles and all that good stuff.”

“Aww, that’s super cute, Ji,” felix says. he would give Jisung a thumbs up, but he’s too busy trying to keep his first place position. “That’s so romantic. What did they say?”

“So they smiled at me, with heart eyes as per usual, then the cake. And then they said 'aww, I love you too, cake!' and then they took pictures of it and then they ate the cake with me. Then they posted the cake on instagram,” Jisung finishes. He frowns at the thought of you telling the cake you love it and not him.

"Oh, is that the post they made yesterday? With the caption 'When your cake loves you!'” Hyunjin asks. He tries to stifle a laugh, but it still comes out. “Dude, I hate to say this, but you know how dense Y/N is.”

Jisung throws himself back onto the couch, taking a throw pillow and pressing his face into it in the process. “I'm so sad. They didn’t say it back,” he whines.

Felix pauses the game, reaching back to rub jisung’s belly. “It’s okay, Ji. They’ll say it back eventually.”

“I hope so.”

—

“I got you something!” you grin as you make your way into the dorm. Noticing Felix and Hyunjin about to leave upon your arrival, you attempt to motion for them to stay. “Stay! I’m sure you guys will like this as well.”

They’re quick to take notice of the take out box you’re holding and they decide it’s maybe a better idea to stay and see what’ll happen. They’re totally not trying to score some free food.

You set the box down on the kitchen table, then open your arms excitedly as Jisung throws himself into your arms. “I got you cake!” you exclaim.

“What’s the occasion, baby?” Jisung asks, confused. There’s really nothing to celebrate right now, besides your love for cake.

“You’ll just have to see!” you grin at him, beginning to open the box carefully. You take the cake out and the 3 boys marvel at the sight.

The cake is about 10 inches in diameter, covered in yellow icing and cherries. It says 'I love you too!' on top in fancy cursive red frosting. Jisung thinks it looks way better than the grocery store cake he decorated for you.

“Isn’t that cute? The 'cake' loves you too!” you giggle at Jisung. He can feel his ears begin to burn as realization sinks in. Jisung was the cake before. You are the cake now. Jisung purses his lips in thought as he debates whether he should say something or not.

However, Hyunjin beats him to it, muttering, “Gee, wonder what that means, Jisung? Felix, take pictures of the cake so we can post about how sad and pathetic we are as single guys on Instagram.”

Felix and Hyunjin leave you and Jisung in the kitchen and he clears his throat awkwardly, “I thought I would be waiting a while before you said it back. I was kinda scared, to be honest. Like what if you didn't— I’m kinda stupid.”

You make your way to him and wrap your arms around him tightly. After a while, you reach up for his face and squish his cheeks between your palms. You smile at his pouted lips before you lean in for a kiss. “You know I love you! I love you so much! Also you’re not stupid, silly, you’re just as dense as I am!”

“That’s even worse!”

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theonceandfuturequeenoftarts · 3 days

Text

Harry really should’ve expected something like this, but he’s still bewildered.

(And more than a little pissed off.)

Of course some bastard managed to enter him as the fifth champion in the Triwizard Tournament.

...Well. There are four schools participating, but “Quadwizard Tournament” doesn’t have the same ring to it.

There are several people shouting at each other and him in a variety of languages, and while he has no idea what they’re saying, he gets the gist of it: how did this scrawny fifth year have the audacity to trick the Goblet of Fire and enter the prestigious (and deadly) tournament?

He wishes they’d ask him so he could clear up that he hadn’t done that, and he doesn’t want to take part in this tournament, and they’re all being world-class prats right now.

Well. Except for Cedric Diggory. He just looks a bit confused, bless him.

Dumbledore asks him if he put his name in, and he says no, and maybe he overestimated these people because pretty much all of them scoff and don’t believe him.

The Koldovstoretz champion’s voice cuts through the hullabaloo and says, in barely accented English, “If he is required to participate, why not let him forfeit?”

Thank Merlin, there’s a voice of reason in all this idiocy.

All eyes turn to the tall young man – Tom Riddle, Harry’d heard the name said by his love-struck peers enough times since the other schools arrived to remember it – who looks politely disinterested in the chaos around him.

“That sounds good to me,” Harry says, hoping that’ll be the end of it.

But of course it isn’t.

The Durmstrang headmaster sneers something that sounds awfully rude at Riddle in a language Harry doesn’t recognise, which makes the boy tense and darkens his eyes. And then the shouting starts up again.

For all that the gathered headmistresses and headmasters and students were arguing against his participation before, they’re now demanding that he take responsibility and not besmirch the tournament’s prestigious history nor the Goblet’s choice by bowing out. Harry is once again of the opinion that there is no continuity or logic in the thinking of magical people, so he zones out like he does when Uncle Vernon wants to rant at him.

As the group finally quiets down and Dumbledore explains what the next steps are for the champions, Harry tunes back in to listen with half an ear. The other schools’ representatives send him dark looks as they depart, while Cedric gives him a pensive frown. Dumbledore ignores Harry’s attempts to catch his eye and disappears as soon as the discussion ends.

Well that’s just great.

Harry decides to head back to the Gryffindor common room – he needs to vent his anger at this madness to his friends, who will hopefully have his back.

(Though, the look on Ron’s face when Harry’s name had been called… No. Ron knows him better than that.)

Before he gets too far, he hears a voice call, “Harry Potter.”

He turns reluctantly, hoping it’s not another person ready to call him an attention-seeker or cheat, to find Tom Riddle.

Feeling his shoulders lower from his ears where they’d risen in pre-emptive defensiveness, Harry manages a half-hearted smile for the older boy. “Hey. Thanks for trying to help, back there.”

Riddle shrugs and somehow makes the motion elegant. “It was obvious you did not want to be chosen."

Harry thought so, but apparently they're the only two of that opinion. “What did the Durmstrang headmaster say to you?”

“Nothing I didn’t expect,” Riddle says dismissively. When Harry doesn’t relent, he clarifies, “Igor Karkaroff rejected my application to Durmstrang because I’m not a pureblood. I’m sure you can imagine his opinion of me – and my blood – hasn’t changed in the intervening years.”

Harry can feel his hackles rise. Yes, he can imagine – he’s heard what the pureblood bigots have said about Hermione and the other muggleborn students over the years.

“Well, there’s only one thing to do, isn’t there?” Harry says, grinning sharply. “We’ll both just have to–” absolutely crush them all “–prove them all wrong.”

Riddle’s eyebrows rise slightly and one side of his mouth twitches. “I suppose we will.”

Harry holds out a hand. “May the best champion win.”

Riddle accepts the handshake. “Indeed. I’m glad to have your support.”

Delivered in a perfect deadpan, it takes Harry a couple moments to realise the other boy is making a joke. He laughs, and Riddle finally lets his face break into a grin.

—

When Riddle uses parseltongue to get past the Peruvian Vipertooth (“What were they thinking, including a human-eating dragon?” Hermione demands when Harry first sees her after the first task) and retrieves the egg in less than two minutes, it causes an uproar. How did someone with Slytherin’s gift, who was born on British soil, not end up going to Hogwarts? The details of Riddle’s first introduction to magic and meeting with Professor Dumbledore are splashed across the front page of the Daily Prophet the following day.

Needless to say, the headmaster is in a bit of hot water with the Hogwarts board of trustees and the pureblood crowd.

(Karkaroff is looking decidedly pale, too.)

Harry thinks he’s the only one who sees the vengeful grin on Riddle’s face while everyone else is staring at Dumbledore getting dressed down. When Harry congratulates Riddle later that day, he knows the older boy understands it’s for more than just retrieving the egg the fastest.

(As for his performance in the first task, Harry’s content with how he did against the Hungarian Horntail, even if he’d gotten a little singed. He might be in second place, but he’s nipping at Riddle’s heels.)

#harry potter #tom riddle #tomarrymort #koldovstoretz tom beloved #triwizard tournament #same-ish age au #tom isn't joking

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