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sunkendreams · 7 months

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SIDELINES.

you haven’t seen jesse pinkman since high school — and he’s the last person you ever expected to connect with. however, times have changed — and so have you.

part 1. | part 2. | part 3. | part 4. | part 5.

༄ PAIRING. | jesse pinkman x [female] reader.

༄ FORMAT. | one-shot, multi-part — not requested.

༄ WORD COUNT. | 9.6K.

༄ WARNINGS. | drug use, references to substance use/addiction, past jane/jesse, emotional trauma/hurt, jesse’s internalized hatred/guilt, acquaintances to lovers, smoking, smut, smut with plot, making out, dirty talk, breast play, cunnilingus, hair pulling, bottom!jesse, riding, morning sex, aftercare.

༄ AUTHOR’S NOTE. | I don’t know where I’m getting these ideas, but I have a lot of projects in the works right now. Some are horror-related and some aren’t. Honestly, I’m just happy to be writing again no matter what the content is. Thank you guys for your continued support & love. I couldn’t do it without you all! Peace! ☺️

The scent of marijuana, pungent smoke, and a toxic amalgamation of sweat and AXE body spray wafted throughout the house, music jacked up so loud that it made your ears ring. You remained at your perch, stuffed along the wall of a stranger’s house while your friends got stoned in another room.

You were dragged to this party out of sheer loyalty to your friends and a boredom that outweighed anything else. Regret rippled through you, nose stinging from the foul smells that hung like a noxious haze in the living room. The drink you clutched within one hand was watered-down, tiny slivers of ice swirling around within the cup.

Some mediocre hip-hop song blasted throughout the house, bass loud enough to shake the very foundation — you were thoroughly surprised that the police hadn’t been called in for a noise complaint.

Grey wisps of smoke drifted in your direction, and you swatted at it with a wrinkled nose. It wasn’t your typical scene — the sort of party, at least. Partying was something you were accustomed to — harmless college parties with drinks and weed, but this was something else.

There were people snorting lines of cocaine off of a glass coffee table, and you swore that one person had passed out entirely in the kitchen. A strange sensation crawled across your flesh — a feeling that you weren’t exactly meant to be here. Your friends had driven you down here, but you were prepared to take your chances with walking home.

“Wanna hit?” A man asked you, gsze half-lidded, lips curled into a less than attractive smile. He propositioned you with a jerk of his head, motioning toward the thin line of fine, white powder sitting along the coffee table.

“No thanks.” You waved one hand in dismiss, weaving through the crowds to retrieve another drink. The kitchen was destroyed, ravaged by strangers with little respect for the home. Debris, trash, and the remnants of marijuana were everywhere. You nearly stepped on broken glass.

It felt like an out-of-body experience — as if you were simply a spectator, an observer who watched the chaos around you. You didn’t thrive or revel within it — you were indifferent. The vices of your friends differed greatly from your own, to quite an extreme degree.

As you watched the swarm of people, all huddled together within the living room, the air became stifling and stuffy, as if it threatened to suffocate you altogether. They reminded you of zombies — barely moving in one place, all drugged-out from whatever concoction of pills and illicit substances were available at this party.

You silently slipped outside, abandoning your drink somewhere on the windowsill as you stepped out into the cool night breeze. You inhaled, greedily drinking in the crisp freshness of dusk, hands roaming over your thin cardigan as you began to shuffle to the edge of the porch.

Moonlight pooled through the wispy clouds as they fluttered through the night — everything was so much quieter outside. The thumping of the bass had diminished, and the skunk-like scent had dissipated altogether.

The door opened behind you, a figure slinking out onto the porch a few feet away from you. “Hey.”

It was somewhat unfamiliar until you’d actually glanced over your shoulder, gaze landing upon a most familiar face — Jesse Pinkman. The two of you made eye contact; Jesse’s face blossomed with a subtle realization.

“Holy shit,” You let out a bark of a laugh, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “Jesse Pinkman, right? You went to J.P Wynne.” You hadn’t seen Jesse Pinkman since high school graduation — you distinctly remembered his social circle.

Jesse recognized you sometime during the midst of the party — a true wallflower, despite your popularity in junior high. It surprised him to see a girl like you at one of his drug-laden festivities, but then again, life was full of surprises. He looked tired, skin pale and eyes baggy as he leaned against one of the columns.

“Yeah,” Perusing his pockets, he fished out a cigarette, placing it between his lips. “You were one of the Honor Society members, right?” Jesse recalled your stellar academics and social standing — his polar opposite.

You made a face, keeping your arms folded across your abdomen. “Yeah.” Admittedly, Jesse wasn’t exactly someone you were friends with in high school. Cordial was a good word for it — your parents never would have allowed you to hang out with someone like him, anyway. “We were in Mr. White’s chemistry classes together.”

Upon mentioning Walter White, Jesse stiffened slightly, feigning innocence as he cracked a thin-lipped smile. “Jesus,” He exhaled, reaching for his lighter. “It’s been awhile.”

There was a prevalent exhaustion that hung within his eyes, a loneliness that almost felt tangible within that moment. He avoided eye contact with you at-times, hands fidgeting when you stepped closer.

“It has.” You paused, rubbing your palms across your arms. Despite the acrid heat that New Mexico produced during the day, the temperatures dropped drastically at night. You shivered, a delicate smile creeping across your features. “Did the party get a little boring for you, too?”

He’d forgotten about you a little bit — forgotten about just how beautiful you were. You’d only gotten prettier, too. Jesse felt the sting of sheepishness and inferiority that came with being around someone like you — a good person, someone with responsibilities and respectable morals. You weren’t a criminal — you hadn’t killed somebody.

Jesse almost felt as if he shouldn’t be speaking to you, but he pressed on. “I guess. Needed some air, you know?” He noticed your constant shivering, prompting him to remove the baggy, black jacket he wore. “You cold?” He asked, gesturing toward the garment he carried.

“Oh,” Warmth crept along your flesh, brows knitting together as you shook your head. “You don’t have to do that, Jesse.” It was a thoughtful gesture, something you didn’t expect, but you were freezing and the dress wasn’t doing you any favors.

“Nah, go ahead. Might smell like cigarettes, though.” Jesse forewarned, tucking one hand underneath his arm. The long-sleeved Henley he wore was more than enough for him.

You thanked him, slipping into his hooded zip-up. He wasn’t exactly incorrect — it did smell of cigarette smoke intermingled with the cologne he wore. You didn’t mind, though.

Silence drifted between the two of you, awkward enough to make you uncomfortable as you fished around for your cellphone. Minutes ticked by without a word. Jesse appeared to be a little nervous, and you wondered if it had anything to do with you.

There was a string of texts from your friends inquiring about your whereabouts. It was a little after ten o’clock, and you fully intended on walking home. “It was nice seeing you, Jesse. I hope you’re doing well.” You cleared your throat. “I’m going to head home.”

Jesse opened his mouth to speak, lips fumbling around the unlit cigarette. Surely, you didn’t want to talk to him — Christ, he was practically a stranger. It felt cruel of him not to offer to give you a ride home, or something like that.

“Hey, uh,” Jesse cleared his throat, clamoring after you. “I can give you a ride home. Could be stalkers or crazy people around.” His reasoning was weak, but it seemed to resonate with you, oddly enough. He felt strange — he barely knew you outside of what he perceived in high school.

You knew that Jesse had gotten in trouble with the law in school — everyone knew. Gossip was prevalent at J.P Wynne. Part of you screamed to refuse, to politely decline and endure the lengthy trek home, but a sliver of you wanted to accept, to indulge in your curiosity.

Jesse had always been kind to you in the very rare, occasional interaction you’d had with him. He hadn’t given you any reason not to trust him. It was a nice change of company — refreshing, almost. There was a clean slate between the two of you.

Your shoulders slouched and sluggishly lifted in a weak shrug as you rubbed your hands together. “You don’t mind? It’s on Nauman Drive, past downtown.” A decent drive, for sure — a half an hour or more. You expected him to reject you given the distance.

“Nauman?” It was a nice area, he knew that much. “Yeah, I don’t mind. You care if I smoke?” Jesse inquired, gesturing around toward the garage. He didn’t care about the house — it almost seemed to fade away into the background. He needed a break, time to think.

“Go ahead.” You trailed after Jesse, following him toward the paved stretch of driveway. A 1984 Toyota Tercel sat, red paint beginning to fade and show signs of weathering. It was beat-up, but certainly held a bit of rugged appeal.

Jesse awkwardly shuffled to open the passenger door, and you thanked him, sinking down into the felt seats. The car smelled of cigarette smoke and cheap air fresheners, but it was tidy and clean inside. You placed your purse down onto the floorboard in front of you.

Blowing a pillar of smoke into the air, Jesse hastily finished his cigarette, fingers beginning to quiver as he opened the driver’s side. He hadn’t really spent time with a girl since Jane — but you didn’t remind him of her whatsoever. There were many qualities you possessed that certainly contrasted from her, not that it was a bad thing.

“Do you live here?” You asked, head canting to one side. There were other cars scattered around the block and parked on the street, but his happened to be the only vehicle in the driveway.

“Uh,” Jesse glanced at you, absentmindedly wetting his lower lip. “Yeah, I do.” He turned the key forward, car rumbling and puffing to life. “Bought the house months ago — used to be my Aunt’s.” He clarified, wondering if you would ask about the obscene amount of drugs.

“You don’t think it’ll burn down while you’re gone?” You questioned, lips twitching into a thin smile as you rolled down the passenger window, letting your elbow rest up against the ledge.

Jesse let out a huff of laughter, and shrugged his shoulders. He began to back up, rolling out onto the empty roads. “It’s been through worse shit.” His wry statement only made your smile flicker again, but he vehemently focused on driving instead.

You felt the barrier melt a bit at that — it was comforting to know that the two of you didn’t have to behave like complete strangers. Silence simmered again, settling between the both of you as he concentrated on finding something on the radio. It served as suitable background noise.

“What are you doing nowadays?” You avoided the topic of the party — it wasn’t worth mentioning. A cool breeze whipped through the car as he began to drive, causing goosebumps to prickle along your shoulders.

“I don’t know,” Jesse confessed, cerulean hues flickering in your direction. “Drifting, I guess.” It was the first time where he’d revealed a sliver of his true feelings. The parties were a worthwhile distraction — soulless events where he could find solace in all of the chaos surrounding him. “Shit, it’s a long story.” His laughter was shaky.

“You don’t have to do a full confession, Jesse.” You reassured, playfully prodding at your cardigan. “I’m not wearing a wire.” With a gentle exhale, your tone softened as he pulled out onto the highway. It was almost soothing — driving back home with somebody you never expected to see again.

Jesse laughed at that, running a hand across his disheveled hair, and then planting it against the back of his neck. The support groups he’d been attending didn’t work — there was no comfort he’d been able to find.

Everything felt like some massive distraction from the root of the problem — the residual pain he was dealing with from Jane, from Gale. His heart hammered within his chest, and he looked at you again. Oddly enough, your nonchalant behavior and lack of judgment would’ve been enough for him to spill in a different setting.

“Hey, what about you? What are you doing these days?” Jesse immediately shifted the focus away from him. He was far more interested in what you had to say than his own life. Besides, it would pull him out of his own head for a little while.

The inquiry was unexpected but not unwelcome, causing you to adjust yourself within the passenger seat. “Oh,” You cleared your throat. “I’m in college at the University of New Mexico. I’m still trying to figure out what I’d like to study — getting basics out of the way. I work at a cafe.”

Normal, uneventful, peaceful — Jesse envied you.

You were achieving something mundane yet safe, something that he wished he would’ve done long ago. Maybe things wouldn’t have happened in the way that they did. His countenance became a touch forlorn, but it wasn’t the time to become mournful over the past. He couldn’t go back, not anymore.

“Yeah, that’s …” He nodded, attempting to conjure the right words to say. “That’s good, really good. You know you could do anything you wanted. You were always really smart and shit.” Jesse replied, gaze hyperfocused upon the road as headlights raced past.

You could detect that Jesse was holding something back — that minuscule flicker of pain had crossed over his visage before being forced to dissipate. Your eyebrows furrowed together, and you reached over, gently prodding at his shoulder.

“Hey,” You began, tone laced with concern. “Are you okay?”

Jesse felt his heart constrict within his chest, wisps of air stolen from his lungs. He couldn’t remember the last time someone had asked that — and genuinely meant it. It wasn’t out of obligation, that was easy to tell. He felt his throat grow thick, but he staved off any tears.

“Yeah.” It was a blatant lie, spoken through a clenched jaw. He nearly winced when you touched his shoulder, feeling as if he were souring the mood entirely. “Just, uh … You know, going to therapy and rehab right now. It’s been tough.” A very threadbare half-truth, but it was enough to placate you.

“Oh.” A warmth crept into your voice as you withdrew, countenance softening as you sank back into the passenger seat. “That’s understandable, Jesse. I’m sorry.” You replied, tucking strands of hair behind your ear as you looked out the window again.

Albuquerque was a sprawling city, and as the two of you neared the nicer end, Jesse knew that Nauman was only ten minutes away. He didn’t want to go back to the party anymore — but it might’ve been the best option. If he stayed with you, he knew the pain it would cause. He feared losing people — it was present all the time, a nagging dread that never stopped.

“Don’t be sorry,” Jesse interjected, knuckles tightening on the steering wheel. “Did that shit to myself, you know?” Addiction was behind him. He rarely participated anymore — he was just a silent observer, fueling everyone else’s vices while he withered away. What kind of a life was that?

You canted your head to one side, lips parting slightly as you spoke. “Jesse, that’s not entirely your fault. You can’t blame yourself for your environment or circumstances out of your control.” You were right — but he made the choice to shoot Gale, and he made the choice to shoot up with Jane before she died.

He was silent, feeling the sensation of tears swimming within his gaze. Jesse didn’t want to even remotely consider crying in front of you — he barely knew you. Instead, he focused on the road, taking the exit towards Albuquerque Studios. Nauman wasn’t very far away.

You couldn’t recall the last time you’d had a conversation with someone else that was this raw and vulnerable. Jesse’s discomfort was palpable and very real to you, and you felt horrible. Your countenance glistened with concern, brows furrowing together.

After the exit, Jesse drove onto Nauman Drive. There were rows of beautiful, lavish houses and apartment complexes, ones that he probably could’ve bought with the dealing money. He was blowing it all away right now on drugs for the parties — he was beginning to ask himself ‘why?’

“My apartment is at the end of the drive.” Your voice had softened, hands planted within your lap as he followed your directions. It was a smaller apartment complex but much nicer, your driveway occupied by your vehicle.

Jesse pulled up along the curb — it was eerily silent, aside from the cacophony of crickets that provided a steady ambience, and the occasional bark of a dog. He put the car in park, still gripping the steering wheel. “You got a nice place.” He murmured, a halfhearted attempt to shift the conversation to something else.

“Hey,” After unbuckling your seatbelt, you leaned over the center console, palm resting over his hand, the one that was strangling the wheel of the car. “Why don’t you come inside? I can make you coffee or something and you can just space out for a little while. We don’t even have to talk.”

The offer was generous — admittedly, Jesse wondered if it would benefit him in any way. If he could just lay on your couch, decompress, let the emotion off of his chest. He didn’t care about the state of the house — he didn’t care about anybody at that party. What he did care about, however, was you, and how you made him feel.

It was as if the invisibility he’d been safely floating in for so long was shattered, but there was someone who could actually see him — see the veil he’d been maintaining for this whole time. His gaze finally flickered toward you, who appeared genuinely concerned for him.

You were good — truly good.

There wasn’t an ounce of maliciousness or an underlying agenda. You didn’t smoke, you hadn’t touched drugs, you were in college with a steady, normal job that never got you involved with the wrong people. Jesse knew what he’d be putting you through if he let this drag out for too long. If he fucked up, people could hurt you.

“Listen,” Jesse swallowed, palm planted against the back of his neck. “You’re really sweet, okay? You’re nice,” He wanted to word it in a way that wouldn’t hurt your feelings. “I just — I can’t. I’m not in a good spot right now. I don’t wanna drag you down with me.” That sounded fair, didn’t it?

You could accept that.

If it had something to do with the drugs, which you assumed that it was, then you understood that he was trying to protect you. You wanted to encourage him to try, but the last thing you wanted to do was pressure someone in a fragile state.

“Okay, Jesse.” You hesitated, pressing your tongue against the inside of your cheek. “I just want you to know that you're not alone. If you need someone, I’m here for you. I know that there was a wedge in high school, but I don’t see any reason why we couldn’t reconnect.” You shrugged, popping open the passenger side door.

As you stepped outside, you made sure to remove his jacket, draping it over the center console as you shut the door. Jesse didn’t say anything as you rounded the car — he was biting his finger, eyes squeezing shut as you made the short trek toward your front door. It felt like an eternity until you’d actually gotten inside.

Jesse exhaled, hands trembling as he hastily wiped away straggling tears that he’d been withholding during the span of the whole drive. Part of him knew that he could use a positive influence like you in his life, but the danger that lurked around him, the cloud of loss, he was afraid that you’d become lost in all of that, too.

The deliberation between going back to his house and biting the bullet to stay with you was a tedious process. He sat out in the car for a long time — he was surprised that you hadn’t come back outside asking why he was sitting there with his head pressed against the steering wheel.

When he finally made the choice to go up to your door, the walk felt like a lengthy, eternal drag. Jesse rocked forward, pressing his hands against his face as he composed himself. Back in high school, he was suave — much more of a charmer. Nowadays, he felt incompetent, but it was largely due to an amalgamation of nerves and drug use.

He knocked a few times, skin crawling with a nervous sensation, but there was something exciting about it, too. You were familiar yet new, a breath of fresh air that he desperately needed. Jesse watched as the door opened, and there you were.

“Hey, uh,” Jesse stuck his hands into his pockets, rocking back upon his heels. “Is the offer still on the table?” He’d ask, and your lips split into a gentle yet bemused smile.

“Of course.” You’d changed into your pajamas — a baggy, oversized graphic t-shirt and cotton shorts that were dwarfed by your top. “Did you want to watch a movie? I was about to start Watchmen.”

Jesse watched as you stepped aside to invite him in, closing the door behind him and latching the lock. You had a weird itch for security, especially at night. “Yeah, that sounds cool.” He replied, having a look around.

Your apartment was tidy and very cozy, with a rather comforting aesthetic and atmosphere. Jesse felt a little more relaxed, wandering around in the small living room. The soft glow of a lamp illuminated the plush sofa, scattered with throw blankets and pillows.

As you prepared coffee, you wondered what changed his mind. It was a question that would likely nag at you until you asked. You understood being lonely — aside from the occasional hangout with your friends, you lived alone.

“Make yourself at home,” You chimed, weaving around the coffee table to place your steaming mugs down, settling into the couch. Jesse sat a comfortable distance away, arm slung over the back of the sofa. “What changed your mind?”

Your question caught him off-guard, but he wanted to be transparent with you. He owed you that much, especially after talking to him — after this, after everything. “I knew that I’d be miserable if I went back,” He shrugged. “I don’t wanna keep being miserable.” Loneliness also played a factor in this, but he didn’t really want to own up to it just yet.

“I understand,” You began, tucking one knee toward your chest as you played the movie. Admittedly, it served as better background noise than anything else. “I’m glad you came over.” Your lips split into a soft smile.

Jesse hesitated, glancing over at you as he stayed silent. He was most definitely drinking you in, gaze subtly raking you over as you took a sip of your coffee. For a moment, he envisioned this — getting close to you, hanging out with you, just getting to be himself, or as close as he could get again.

“I’m glad, too.” Jesse confessed, rubbing at the back of his head. He nearly shriveled at the eye contact you made with him, but he maintained it instead, lips twitching into a faint smile.

You nudged your drink back onto the wooden table, wordlessly slinking closer to Jesse until you were curled up beside him. The silence simmered with something else, perhaps a crackle of affection. Your gaze glistened with a peculiar softness, flickering between the movie and him.

Admittedly, this was the last thing Jesse expected — but that didn’t stop him from wanting it to happen. Once you initiated, he decided to meet you halfway, draping his arm around you, cheek pressed against the top of your head.

He’d been craving something like this for a while now. Jane left a void — a massive, gaping wound that he feared wouldn’t heal, but now? Maybe there was an end in sight — maybe there was a light at the end of the tunnel. Jesse relaxed, sinking into you as you cuddled up with him.

Your hands intertwined, fingers brushing together until they joined. Just like Jesse, you were chasing after the sensation of touch, chasing after that feeling of fulfillment — no more loneliness. You’d been dealing with it for a long while, trying to manage the sea of emotions, and this was a nice break from that.

“I understand feeling miserable,” You murmured, head resting comfortably against his collarbone. “Sometimes it feels like you’re alone out on a raft, in the middle of the ocean.”

Jesse’s jaw tightened, but there was a mutual sense of empathy and understanding within your words. That was how he felt oftentimes — just himself, attempting to stay afloat. He didn’t say anything, but he did caress your knuckles with his thumb as a form of acknowledgment.

As the movie progressed, the two of you occasionally made small talk, but you were a little engrossed by the film, and so was he. It was comforting to just be near him — let him hold you, keep it light with gentle touches and whatnot.

It wasn’t until halfway through the movie that Jesse cleared his throat, glancing down at you with exhausted eyes. “Thanks for this,” He murmured, absentmindedly wetting his lower lip. “Would you wanna do it again? Like, uh … Hanging out, or something?” He was intent on cleaning up his place, now.

“Yeah,” You replied, twisting within his hold enough to peer up at him. “I would.” There was something special about this — perhaps a feeling of renewal, of starting something with someone you never expected. You had a feeling that Jesse needed a little bit of support, and you didn’t mind providing that.

“Shit,” Jesse breathed through a soft laugh, visibly bewildered yet pleased by your answer. “Okay.” He didn’t expect that from you — he didn’t expect anything, really.

The both of you were smiling, now. Watchmen dissipated into the background once more, simply serving as ambience as the two of you nestled together. “Okay.” You parroted, lips curling into a lopsided smile as Jesse gathered his bearings.

You had little time to fully comprehend his next actions — he moved inward, cerulean hues dropping from your face to your mouth. Everything about this screamed sudden and intense, but you didn’t care. He tasted like cigarette smoke and spearmint gum — he had a very sweet kiss.

Jesse inhaled, relaxing into you, careening right into the warmth of your body. Every fiber of his being felt electrified, and he became so incredibly nervous — he hadn’t done this since Jane. He didn’t want her death to tarnish the moment, but it was inevitable.

He pulled away, opening his mouth to speak, yet nothing emerged. Words turned to ash upon his tongue, dying then and there as he hung his head, fingers toying with yours.

It wasn’t difficult to tell that he was struggling with this — you didn’t want to pry, but you didn’t want him to feel obligated, either. “Hey,” You murmured, dragging one hand toward his face, fingertips grazing over his stubbled jaw. “What’s wrong?” It was written all over his countenance, this underlying sense of pain.

“Nothing, just …” Jesse shivered when your palm cupped his jaw, shamelessly leaning into the sensation you left behind from your hand. “I just don’t wanna leave.” It sounded so pathetic — he didn’t want to go back home to a drug-laden pit.

Your lips twitched into a faint smile. “Is that it?” You left it open-ended, attempting to stay on the side of not being invasive or pushy. You wanted him to be comfortable.

Jesse huffed, idly tracing the pad of his thumb across the delicate plane of your knuckles. “Nah,” He admitted, cerulean hues flickering toward your face. “Haven’t really done this in awhile.” Telling you the visceral, painful truth would’ve been too much for him, so he settled on something else, something superficial.

“What, kissing?” You teased, keeping it mellow and lighthearted before he shook his head. “If it’s any reassurance, I haven’t done anything, either. Don’t feel like it’s just you.” With a soft sigh, you watched as Jesse leaned back just an inch or two, head craned to rest against your couch.

There was something forlorn about him, a light aura of melancholy that swirled around his being. You didn’t want to ask, but you couldn’t help but wonder what happened. You were able to look past that — he was attractive. You’d always thought that he was handsome.

“You, uh … You mind if we do it again?” Jesse asked, head cocked to one side. He was some amalgamation of sheepishness and a suave charm, smile somewhat feeble as he held your hand.

“I don’t mind.” You replied, but before he could lean in again, you had something on your mind. “Jesse?”

Jesse stooped closer, forehead nearly pressed against yours. “Yeah?”

“Would it help if you stayed tonight?” Whatever was plaguing him, being alone around drugs was the last thing he needed. You didn’t mind him staying the night — you didn’t mind whatever came with that, too.

He remained silent for a few moments, and immediately felt as if he should say no — and against his own inner turmoil, he wanted to be with you. He didn’t care if the house was a mess or if it had been reduced to nothing — he’d rather stay here with you.

“I don’t wanna disturb the peace,” Jesse began, nose wrinkling slightly when you rolled your eyes. “I can crash on the couch.” Admittedly, that sliver of him that was desperate for affection also wanted to sleep with you, but it was only polite to keep his distance until you said otherwise.

“You’re not disturbing anything. Promise.” You reassured, fingers creeping toward the nape of his neck as you tilted forward. “I want you to stay.” You uttered, your own desire for fulfillment and company mirrored his own want to not be alone.

Part of him really wished you hadn’t said that — but once the gate was open, Jesse couldn’t stop himself, and neither could you. His gaze fell to your lips, thumb briefly caressing your jaw until the two of you were colliding into one another.

Jesse kissed you again, compassionate and borderline needy, hand dropping to grasp at the curve of your hip. His free hand still remained tangled with yours, eyes fluttering shut as you shuffled forward, partially planted within his lap. It was enough to make him forget about the downward spiral he was on, and it was as if the plummeting had ceased — for now.

You didn’t know where this would lead, but that was the exhilarating part about it. The uncertainty and the newfound territory that was Jesse Pinkman elated you. Maybe this was what you needed; he was what you needed — you needed a fresh start.

“Hey, uh,” Jesse whispered against your mouth, fingers teasing the hem of your baggy shirt, grazing over your thigh. “Where we going with this?” It was spoken with compassion and concern, out of total thoughtfulness for you. Maybe you didn’t want to sleep with a junkie — he couldn’t blame you.

“I think I know where I’d like to go,” You confessed, head canting to one side. “Where do you want to go?” You asked, idly trailing your digits through his hair. You noticed the subtle bobbing of his Adam’s apple, accompanied by a peculiar sheen within his eyes.

If it was something serious that you were after, Jesse was unsure if he even had that capability. After Jane, it almost seemed to shatter — fall apart. Maybe it didn’t have to be that way forever. Perhaps, there was a light at the end of the tunnel for the two of you.

Instead of recoiling, Jesse held you closer, wordlessly ushering you into his lap, palm splayed out underneath your shirt, resting soundly at the curve of your hip. “I just,” He hesitated, completely enamored by you — you were beautiful. “I don’t know if I can be what you need right now.” He admitted.

You respected him all the more for his candor, hands coming to rest at the nape of his neck. You decided to kiss him, slow and steady, tilting to one side for something deeper. When you withdrew, your lips twitched into a smile. “I’m patient.” With that conclusion alone, Jesse relaxed.

He felt a bit of pressure relinquish itself from him, like a weight being removed from his chest. Jesse was worried that you’d want something serious, something strict off the bat. He didn’t intend on sleeping around, but he was afraid of disappointing you more than anything.

Given the implication of your interactions, Jesse had something on his mind — he figured that the feeling was mutual.

Jesse remained quiet for a moment, pressing a sweet kiss against your jaw, and then another to your neck. “Where’s your room?” He murmured, nearly shuddering in delight when you absentmindedly tugged on his hair.

“Come on.” Reluctantly, you removed yourself from his lap, taking ahold of his hand as you led him down the short corridor towards your bedroom. It was, as Jesse expected, lavishly-decorated and aesthetically pleasing. It far outweighed the dump he was living in.

“Cute.” Jesse couldn’t help but comment, lips twitching into a smile as he observed your choice of style and the many pillows piled up on top of your mattress. Admittedly, it all felt so cozy and welcoming — it even smelled good.

With a playful roll of your eyes, you watched as Jesse nudged the door closed. The both of you were swallowed by the lower, dim lighting of your bedroom, slivers of orange encompassing your scantily-clad frame.

He pressed closer, hands roaming across your body, one palm gently slipping underneath the hem of your shirt to brazenly grab at your ass. Locked in another heated kiss, your hands moved to push his jacket away, draping across his shoulders.

The sensation of your fingers roaming through his hair was enough to make his knees weak, a low groan resonating within his throat. You tasted sweet, like the twang of strawberry chapstick and the citrus seltzer you’d been drinking at the party. Jesse kissed you again, greedily this time, one hand cupping the curve of your hip.

As the two of you fell onto your bed in a feverish heap of limbs and mouths, you withdrew for a moment, getting yourself adjusted. You prepared to remove your shirt until you saw Jesse laying there, eyes half-lidded. Exhaustion was scrawled into his face, as if it were a permanent feature.

“Are you tired?” You asked, more concerned about his state of wellbeing. You were getting hot and bothered, but your own desire could be put on hold for a little while.

Jesse appeared embarrassed, but with the bags underneath his eyes and the perpetual state of tiredness that hung around him, he couldn’t lie to you. “Yeah,” He chewed at the inside of his cheek. “Shit, this feels pathetic. I’m practically blue-balling myself.” He mused, and it made you giggle.

“It’s not pathetic, Jesse.” You reassured, opting to climb into bed and make yourself comfortable. Jesse kicked off his shoes, following suit until he was resting at your side, arms tangled around you. “You look like you’re seconds away from crashing. I think we can put sex aside for now.”

Begrudgingly, he felt you cuddle against him, head near his collarbone as he made himself comfortable with you. His erection happened to push into your rump throughout, but before you could make a playful comment about it, his breathing had steadied.

“Jesse?” You whispered, receiving no response. He was most definitely asleep, and you confirmed this by simply rolling over. His expression was cast into one of bliss, still clutching onto you even through slumber. You sank back down with a smile, and decided to sleep, too.

—

Slivers of dawn’s first light trickled through the gossamer curtains — faint enough not to draw any attention, but enough to signal to Jesse that it was early in the morning. He’d stayed the night, and even then, it didn’t seem real.

You were asleep at his side, still nestled against him, but beginning to stir. Jesse couldn’t tell if it was because you were really waking up, or because his hard-on was protruding into you. He remembered last night — kissing you before he’d fallen asleep.

It wasn’t one of his smoothest moments — not by a long shot.

“Hey,” As the haze of grogginess began to lift, you were elated to find Jesse — still in your bed, and still next to you. Even being disheveled from sleep, Jesse found you to be astoundingly gorgeous. There was perfection to you that he wanted to drown himself inside of. “You’re here.” You smiled.

“Did you think I ditched or something?” He asked, arm draped around you as you shook off the feeling of slumber. Admittedly, part of you thought he’d wake up and leave, but he proved you wrong.

“A little bit,” You confessed, feeling his hand trace idle patterns into the dip of your waist. You wriggled closer, pressing a soft kiss against his stubbled jaw. “But I’m glad you didn’t.” It was complete and utter bliss, waking up with him — it was the last thing you expected, but you could get used to it.

Jesse huffed, hand dragging from your waist to your face, palm cupping your cheek as he caressed your jaw with his thumb. “Nah,” He smiled this time, cerulean eyes boring into you, becoming lost in the mere presence of you. “Didn’t even cross my mind, if I’m being honest.”

You smiled, eyelashes fluttering in rapid succession before you planted a sloppy, slower kiss against his lips. “What crossed your mind instead?” You asked, careening into the sensation of his palm cradling your face.

Jesse felt much better, no longer plagued by the desire for sleep. Instead, there was something else he wanted — he wanted to pick up from last night. He leaned forward, pressing his lips against yours, hand skimming toward your thigh.

“Lots of stuff,” He began, coaxing you against him as he answered your question in between a series of heated, needy kisses. “All about you.” Jesse confessed, peering at you through his lashes before his hand gently grabbed at your ass.

“Yeah? Do you wanna show me?” You asked, becoming a bit breathless whenever he kissed you. It was accompanied by plenty of groping, ensuring that you were flush against him as the tension rose to a boiling point between the two of you.

You weren’t about to recoil, reciprocating his kiss with a passionate one of your own, stomach churning with anticipation. Your hand moved toward the nape of his neck, fingers lightly grabbing at his hair. Each kiss was sweet yet sloppy, and you could feel Jesse’s hand underneath your shirt.

“Yeah, I do. Do you wanna do this?” Jesse murmured, ensuring that he wasn’t jumping the gun. You could’ve changed your mind from last night — that was certainly a possibility, and he’d be just fine with it. He was partially on top of you, but he leaned back enough to gauge your answer.

“Absolutely.” You smiled, sitting up enough to get your shirt off, which Jesse kindly assisted with. The both of you sank into a rather peaceful moment, blissfully quiet as he wriggled out of his shirt.

Jesse leaned forward again, capturing your mouth in a passionate, heated kiss, his hands finding the smooth curve of your hips. “You’re so pretty.” He exhaled, feeling that little pang of nervousness. He hadn’t touched a girl since Jane, but he wasn’t about to let himself be thrust into the past, not now.

Heat saturated your skin, crawling all over you like a fever. In the wake of Jesse’s compliment, you felt sheer elation, feeling his lips roam from your mouth to your jaw. His hands were everywhere, inevitably finding their purchase against your thighs. He peppered a string of kisses from your jaw to your neck, though his kisses soon turned to suckling.

“Jesse.” You moaned, haplessly grasping onto his shoulders as he left a series of hickeys on your neck. You felt his digits curl around the waistband of your panties, but he made no motion to remove them just yet.

Your moan was enough to make him shiver in delight, gaze following the path of your hand as you hastily unclasped your bra. You had such a beautiful body — Jesse felt some semblance of awe, snug against you as you got comfortable atop the comforter.

Continuing his previous route, Jesse’s mouth kissed down your neck and collarbone, stopping above your breasts. Even your smell was intoxicating — everything about you reeled him in. “Jesus,” He mumbled against your sternum. “You’re beautiful.” It was an endless string of softspoken praises that escaped him.

He was scrawny, with a lanky musculature — you found it attractive in the best of ways. Your gaze occasionally fell across his many tattoos, committing every detail to memory. Your fingers continued to tug and pull at his hair, body jolting into him when his mouth wrapped around your nipple.

A low groan resonated from his throat, rippling across his chest when you continued to toy with his hair. His hand traced down the plane of your stomach, slipping underneath the elastic trim of your panties. You nearly buckled, writhing underneath him when his digits slipped against your cunt.

You felt his mouth suck and kiss at your breast, in-tandem with the teasing ministrations of his fingers. It was feather-light, enough to drive you to the brink of frustration. “You wet already, angel?” It was almost an incredulous statement instead of a question.

Fuck — the nickname was enough to send shockwaves pulsating through your body. Your skin became awash with warmth, lips falling apart as you peered down, enough to catch a glimpse of those half-lidded, cerulean eyes and the adoring tilt of his lips. Goosebumps snaked across your spine, back arching off of the bed.

Jesse wasn’t dumb — he knew that your reaction was from the nickname. He pressed his tongue against his cheek, pressing a string of kisses from your breast to stomach, tattooed hand curling into your panties as he inched them past your thighs.

“Say it again,” It was a command that fell from your mouth, and not a plea. Your fingers happened to tense within his hair, enough to make his jeans become uncomfortably tight. “Please.” With a breathy exhale, you felt Jesse’s lips trace across the curve of your hip.

He felt his heart hammer with erratic excitement, tongue absentmindedly flicking out to trace across his lower lip. Christ, you looked so perfect like this — Jesse watched you, breathing intensifying as you spread your legs just a little bit. He often walked the line between nervousness and confidence, feeling a sense of boldness swell within him.

His breath fanned across the inside of your thigh, lips ghosting over the soft skin there. Jesse’s gaze remained fixated upon you, glistening with a sheen of lust as he finally began to kiss his way to the throbbing between your legs. “Where do you want me, angel?” Jesse murmured, assuming that he knew the answer.

You couldn’t recall the last time you’d felt this way — floating, so unbelievably slick and warm that you felt feverish. Jesse brought out a new level of neediness and desperation that you never thought possible. “Jesse,” You moaned, squirming haplessly as you urged him closer. “Please, please.”

Jesse swallowed, wordlessly following the motion of your hand as he lapped at your cunt, tongue dragging along the length of your slit. You were whimpering, one hand grappling at his freckled shoulder. He was so turned on from the noises you made, enough for him to grind his hips into the mattress.

You sputtered a very pitiful apology when your hips bucked forward, but you were met with a barrage of needy licks and a faint moan. Slivers of morning light pooled through the curtains, falling across Jesse as he buried his face between your thighs. His weeks-old stubble rubbed against the sensitive flesh of your legs.

Nimble digits skimmed forward, one palm splayed against your pelvis as the other gripped down on your thigh. You wanted to sob from how good it felt — he was talented with his mouth, that much was for sure. His tongue flicked over your clit, gestures rhythmic and steady.

A knot formed within your stomach, a coil that continued to tighten, threatening to burst if Jesse kept it up. It all felt like some foreign fever dream, but you much preferred the current reality — Jesse Pinkman, eating you out until you cried. You felt his hand brush against yours, a gesture that was startlingly tender.

One hand untangled itself from his hair, deciding to give him a break, going to hold his hand instead, fingers lacing together. You felt his lips begin to purse around your clit, simultaneously eliciting another noisy, elated moan from your lips.

Your chest heaved with a myriad of throaty, high-pitched whimpers as he sucked on your clit, stars rippling past your vision. No one had ever gone down on you with such reverence and passion before, but now that you’d gotten a taste, you wanted more.

Jesse hadn’t realized it, but somewhere in the thick of hooking up with you, he was feeling like himself again. It almost felt as if he’d been transported back to a time before he’d met Walter White, to a time where he was slinging crystal and simply enjoying life. Each moan, every little mewl and keen that escaped you was akin to music.

“Jesse,” You panted, breathing somewhat ragged as he lapped at your clit. That coil began to unfurl, blistering heat coursing through you, a white-hot rush of sheer ecstasy that caused you to moan and cry out. “Jesse!” You felt him squeeze your hand, a silent reassurance to let go.

Unbothered by the mess, Jesse groaned, feeding off of your orgasm as he lapped at your cunt, ministrations lacking the vigor from before. Your stomach felt like mush, but you wanted him to fuck you senseless — you almost felt embarrassed for how wound-up you’d become.

He was quiet, kissing your thighs as he began to sit back up, wiping off his mouth with the back of his hand. Jesse ogled you, head cocking to one side before he spoke. “You are so beautiful.” It wasn’t something spoken lightly during sex — you felt it seep right into your bones, genuine as ever.

“So are you.” You replied, and you watched his throat bob as he swallowed. Jesse crawled up, and in a flurry of unrestrained passion, he kissed your mouth. You could taste yourself, taste him — it was enough to make your cunt throb again, still dealing with the aftershocks of your orgasm.

“Could you, uh …” Jesse mumbled, erection pulsing and rubbing right into the pliant flesh of your thigh. “I want you on top.” He was used to climbing on top of girls and going to town until he ran out of stamina, but he had different reasons this time. “I wanna see you.”

Your heart fluttered within your chest, and you nodded, watching as he rolled over, making himself comfortable atop the mound of pillows lining your bed. There was something eerily intimate in the way that he spoke — maybe it was just you. It was soft and sweet, enough to make you shudder as you straddled his hips.

Reaching for his belt, you unfastened it, moving enough for him to kick his pants off. His hands moved toward your thighs, fingers caressing across your flesh as the both of you worked to remove the final article of clothing. He was quiet this time, staring up at you with a searing, intense look — it was almost adoring.

He was unbearably hard, hips writhing slightly, desperate to be inside of you. Jesse nearly melted at the sensation of your hand wrapping around his cock, giving it a few, sluggish strokes, thumb swiping across the head before you lifted yourself up just enough.

Jesse groaned in tandem with you as you sank down onto his length, digits tensing into your thighs as you adjusted yourself, lips falling apart. You reached for his hands, fingers twining together. Goosebumps erupted across his body, chest fluttering with an unshakable warmth.

“Jesus.” Jesse breathed, watching as you stooped down to press your mouth against his, open-mouthed and sloppy. His tongue traced across your lower lip, and you responded by rolling your hips forward. He exhaled, reciprocating with another heated, messy kiss.

He released one of your hands, enough to grip onto your hip, guiding you into a steady rhythm. Your pace was somewhat sporadic and erratic at first, slipping into a natural flow once he held onto you. Jesse groans, unable to keep from staring at you as if you were perfection incarnate.

You whimper, using your knees to rock yourself up and back down, sinking onto his cock until he’s bottomed out. The intermingling of your moans fill your bedroom, accompanied by the faint squeak and creak of your bed frame. “Jesse.” You mewl, feeling his lips smack against your collarbone.

What started as something slow and sluggish had gained traction, your pace increasing slightly. A crackling, familiar heat raced across your body, making your stomach churn with anticipation, simultaneously pooling with warmth.

A soft moan tore past his lips, skin flushing with a rosy shade as you careened forward, one palm splaying out across his chest. “Shit,” Jesse’s voice emerged again as an excitable pant, squeezing your hand as you continued to piston yourself up and down. “You feel so good, baby.” Any little nickname was enough to make you preen.

Heat rippled through you, continuing to consume your body in waves. He sat up, enough to be within reach of you as he pressed a messy, sultry kiss against your collarbone, clamoring for your mouth as you tilted your head downward.

Your hand snaked from his chest to the nape of his neck, gripping his hair once. Your motions became somewhat uneven and less rhythmic as you rocked yourself on his cock, mewling and whimpering, noises intertwining with his strenuous groans. His palm grabbed at the curve between your thigh and ass, gripping you tight as you rode him.

“M’close,” You huffed, prying your lips away from his, only for you to press a trail of haphazard kisses against his stubbled jaw. “Jesse.” Another whine escaped you, followed by a cacophony of lewd noises. Your thighs felt a strain and burn from pistoning yourself onto his cock so many times, heat pooling between your legs.

Jesse was right there with you, though he wasn’t entirely sure where you wanted him to unload, to put it mildly. “Where do you want me?” He asked again, mirroring his inquiry from earlier. You slowed somewhat at that question, but he shook his head. “Keep going.” Despite the sting of borderline overstimulation, he didn’t want you to stop.

Both of his hands redirected themselves to your hips, guiding you along, letting you grind yourself forward, rolling your hips up and back onto his length. He groaned again, forehead pressed against yours, skin feeling as if it were set ablaze. The hold you had on him already was rather ironclad.

He kissed you again, unusually intimate and full of desire, digits groping and kneading into your curves. Your skin felt velvety underneath his fingertips, and your scent invaded his senses, overwhelming him in the best way possible. His cock was throbbing, swallowed by your tight cunt as you whimpered his name.

“Not inside.” You cautioned, breathlessly clashing with him again — all tongue, teeth and want as Jesse nudged you back. With your newfound position, legs locked around his lanky musculature as he rutted into you, you felt like you were seeing stars. “Holy shit, Jesse!” You moaned.

Jesse wasn’t grotesquely well-endowed, but he knew exactly how to utilize what he had. He felt like he’d broken the barrier right then and there, bottomed out inside of you before he pulled out, cumming onto your stomach. It was one of the hottest things he’d ever seen as thin ropes of slick seed fell across your abdomen.

His chest heaved with recuperative breaths, perspiration glistening along his brow as he hovered over you. The two of you sighed in-tandem, both coming down from a blissful high. Those pretty, cerulean eyes of his consumed you over and over again, fluttering in rapid succession before he lowered himself to kiss you.

It was slow — too slow, almost, but Jesse savored you, instead. Your nails ghosted across his forearm, tracing around the intricate pattern of his tattoo before skimming toward his shoulders. You reciprocated the kiss with a familiar sweetness, unhooking one leg from his waist.

“Sorry,” Jesse mumbled, gesturing toward the sticky mess that was splattered all over your stomach. “You look so pretty like that.” His tone lowered, taking on some delicious pitch that itched a certain part of you, sending goosebumps trailing across your spine.

Before you could respond, Jesse slipped off of you, tugging on his boxers as he wandered toward your bathroom to grab a towel. It was the first one he could get his hands on, returning to you with a rather adoring look in his eyes.

As you cleaned yourself up, making sure to discard the towel into your laundry basket, Jesse reappeared with a glass of water. It was quite endearing, watching the way he took care of you afterwards without being asked to. He sat next to you, watching as you pulled your panties back on and your t-shirt.

“That was really nice.” Admittedly, you needed it — but it felt better than before, all due to Jesse. You curled up next to him, head resting against his collarbone as his palm moved to cradle your face.

“Yeah, it was.” Jesse murmured, wishing that he could stay with you. He needed to get back home — the house was likely ruined. He’d also briefly glanced at his phone and noticed four missed calls from Mr. White’s number. “I wanna do it again.”

You giggled, nose wrinkling in amusement. “Hanging out together or having sex?” You asked, and he scoffed, lips twitching in a brief flash of a smile. “You can be honest, Jesse. I can handle it.”

“Both,” He confessed, savoring the feeling of your hand delicately tracing over the tattoo on his collarbone. “What if I took you out somewhere, yeah? Like on a date.” Jesse couldn’t believe that he’d asked you, but it was out in the open, now — no going back.

“Okay.” You mused, gaze flickering toward his lips. You would never get tired of kissing him — the taste of spearmint and cigarettes had become borderline addictive. “You can take me out.” With that, you leaned forward, pressing your mouth against his.

Jesse exhaled, reciprocating your kiss with one of his own. He squeezed his eyes shut, pad of his thumb caressing over your jawline. “Shit,” He sighed, a forlorn look within his eyes. “I gotta get going. I don’t want to.” He didn’t want to leave, but he had a feeling he’d be seeing you again soon. His phone vibrated again.

You yearned for the contact when he’d rolled out of your bed, getting himself dressed again. Once he found his jacket and keys, you decided to walk him to the door, standing with him in the cool morning breeze. Sunlight glittered down, bathing the both of you in picturesque lighting.

“Jesse,” You murmured, hand poised along the doorframe. “Are you sure you’re going to be okay?” You asked, watching him linger around on the front step as he glanced toward his car. After everything that happened, from last night to now, you were a little worried. He wasn’t exactly in the best state of mind — that much you knew.

Jesse hesitated — he didn’t have a viable answer to that. His house was a drug-laden pit, he was beginning to spiral, but you’d kicked him back onto a different path. It was an unpredictable road ahead. Even he had no idea how he’d feel by the end of the day, but one thing was for certain — he’d be okay for you.

He swallowed, and then nodded twice. “Yeah, I think so.” His chest tightened with a flurry of emotions, ones he hadn’t felt since Jane was around. Jesse was absolutely enthralled by you — and he wondered if that would lead to your doom.

With that, you nodded, beginning to turn around. Before you could, you felt a hand curling around your wrist, as if guiding you elsewhere.

“Hey,” Jesse muttered, reeling you back in for a gentle kiss. “I’ll see you later.” It was a promise to himself, more than it was to you. He was reluctant to pull away, but the buzzing in his pocket became rather urgent.

The kiss caught you off-guard, stealing every wisp of air right out of your lungs, warmth creeping across your skin until it burned something hot within your cheeks. You opened your mouth, unable to keep from smiling.

“See you later, Jesse.”

You really hoped that you would.

#jesse pinkman x reader #jesse pinkman x you #breaking bad #jesse pinkman fanfiction #jesse pinkman #breaking bad fanfiction #breaking bad fanfic #better call saul #female reader #aaron paul #sunkendreams masterlist

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funficwriter · 6 months

Text

A Wolf and A Snake (Wriothesley x Reader)

Chapter 3: In the Low Gardens

A/N: Thank you all so much for being patient with me! I wanted this chapter to be fun to read, but had so little time to write this week. I just hope I have a little more freedom in the future. Anyways, enjoy!

Synopsis: Being a noble meant that marriage was a chess game, not an affair of love. Unfortunately for the pristine Balthazar family of Fontaine, Y/N has long been enamored with love and sought it out before their priorities. After her grey, boring time of courtesy, she meets Duke Wriothesley, who makes her yearn for the first time in her life, and it's the same for him. Threatened by the idea of losing this first, it seems they'll stop at very little to be together...

Taglist: @yue-caelum, @reyy-chanx, @mis-disaster, @ladyarchiviste, @keigo-hawks-takami-simp

Warnings: Talk of murder/violence/corruption, yandere talk, Wrio gets a lil primal, a few smutty details, does scheming behind the back count as a warning? Lol

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Your parents were not the type to sing, least of all sing to express joy. But whenever they peered at you from the balcony, they looked like they could explode in song any minute. They never looked as jubilant, as proud of their daughter as they saw her, arm linked with the chivalrous and gentle Duke Archandelle.

You supposed any other girl would kill to be in your place. Duke Archandelle hailed from a long and well-respected lineage, and made a fortune for both himself and Fontaine's economy through his commerce. He was rather handsome, had a voice described as 'light honey with mint', and towered over you, the lady he was going to protect with that advantage. Hopefully, for the rest of your lives. On top of that, he was cultured, up-to-date with Fontaine's classical and modern trends, but was no pansy; He was an excellent swordfighter and hunter. You almost heard their voices yelling at you: "You've got the perfect gentleman falling at your feet, and you're not grateful?! How dare you!".

There you two were, in one of your manor's many gardens. This was the highest, prettiest one of all, and had a lovely table among the flowers where you would soon take your tea. Both of you were well-dressed, engaged in conversation (he carried most of it) and took tiny steps to ensure it stayed that way. You looked like the perfect royal Fontainian couple. Add on the fact that Archandelle has decreed himself 'fervently in love' with you, and didn't look like he was going to give up... No wonder your parents were probably even happier than they were on their own wedding day.

'Fervently in love', my ass. If I wasn't so angry, I'd laugh. Maybe with his stupid monologues or my last name's history book... My Wriothesley could teach him a thing or two about love.

"And I say, it was so dastardly for them to write that ending! I mean, to let these filthy 'protagonists' get away with their crimes! I can think of youngsters reading this novel. What will they think? How are we raising them and- My dear, are you with me?".

The funny thing about his tirades was how they can be condensed to the same strand of puritanism, either outrageous or righteous. You barely had to listen and should he feel testy, you had an answer.

"Ah, forgive me, my dear Duke. I was just appalled at the text, to the point where I didn't know what to say. But do know I'm in full agreement!".

He beamed: "Why, of course you are. Your parents raised a fine and virtuous young lady who knows right from wrong.".

Your agreement seemed to have calmed him down. He stopped to take your hand and kiss it.

"One of the countless reasons I fell in love with you.".

Liar!

You wished you could shut him up. As he embodied the peak of your social class, he also had all the ideas you wanted to criticize as loud as you can, but couldn't risk. One of them was this picking on cultural output not based on whether it was good, whether they liked it, but whether it was 'moral' or not. What's more is the power they hold. Should something not be 'moral', that would mean another secret trip to the bookstore for you, before it got fully banned.

Though you couldn't shut him up, you had two tools up your arsenal: The first was thinking of Wriothesley, which made you surprisingly more patient than you imagined. The second was hearing Archandelle be less of a whiner, more of an admirer.

"Say, my Lord, surely you've seen some good plays where this doesn't happen, right? I'm sure we'll all need good recommendations.".

Once again, he beamed, and you could tell he was restricting himself from being too physical. But perhaps he felt a bit more daring, because he put an arm around your waist and carried on walking, while talking about 'good' plays he's seen (which you were sure were total dogshit if it came from him.).

The butler had called you for tea time. It wasn't the day for your favorite dessert, but a quick wink from Agatha, who was passing by, let you know who twisted his arm into bending the unofficial rule. You felt a bit of remorse for not being able to tell her who you really liked, but you decided to do it when you were in a more secure position with Wriothesley.

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Curse whoever decided that falling in love with a half-wolf (or any hybrid, for that matter) was a curse, and bless your own canine lover for using his affinity towards the night to pick this one. The stars shined along with the soft moon, with only a few cloudy wisps passing by. The air was crisp, cooling but not so much that you had to stay in.

The hour struck. Your heart did a leap so brusque, you had to take a deep breath. The clock said it all: It was time.

You picked a simple dress for your rendez-voux; Flattering, but no hassle. Your mother wasn't fond of it, because she thought it didn't 'do justice to your beauty'. Another one of millions of differences between you two, separating her and your father into the loud and showy sun, while you counted the minutes until you could entangle your hand into his under the moon. Though everyone slept, the night was still young... Should you desire it, would more than that happen?

No one could police your desires if you thought of them.

Let him hold me again. Let him hold me securely, claiming me as his under the full moon as his own culture decrees. I'm asking a lot... But please, let him kiss me before Duke Archandelle does and let him scream it out to the world so it could throw me into his arms.

As you made your way down, your reverie was only interrupted when you passed by your elder brother's room. Being married, he split his time between his new villa and your manor. You weren't looking forward to his next visit, especially when he caught wind of your 'engagement' with Duke Archandelle and sent you a long, pompous letter congratulating you as his 'equally prestigious sister, upholding the Balthazar's powerful unions'. Ugh.

In retrospect, perhaps you should have hurried along; Just after you continued, you bumped into a curvaceous figure you knew well (after all, she held you more than your mother) and made an audible "Ow!".

So much for not being caught, least of all by your own hissing governess. Should you be caught, she'd surely get heat for not making sure you were in bed.

"Y/N! What are you doing out of bed? You have lessons tomorrow, don't you?".

As she talked, she pulled you away from your brother's door and the bedrooms of the floor. After all, she was just in as much danger as you were.

"Agatha! Hey, um... I was... I was going down to grab a glass of water. I'm thirsty.".

Forget the fact that you weren't in your sleeping attire and that your voice was racked in nerve. How could you have hoped to lie to her, your true mother figure who knew every inkling of you hiding something on your face? Her quirked-up brows clearly let you know that she didn't buy it, but what really made you want to spill the beans was the slight glimmer in her eyes: She was hurt by you lying to her.

"Really, Y/N? After all those years, you think I'd believe that? I have raised you as my own, yet you act as if I were hired this morning.".

"Agatha, I'm so sorry. Please don't be sad, I'll tell you but...".

You couldn't believe it; You were about to tell someone that you were seeing another man behind your arranged partner's back. It would be one thing if he were some king and your parents were idiots at making their final verdict. But you were seeing Duke Wriothesley of Meropide. You were seeing a wolf-hybrid, a dangerous kind to human beings (even though you'd argue that correlation does not equal causation). You were seeing a prison warden, a polite but hardy, brutish man.

Agatha could sense that your secret was a big one. She ran a hand through your head: "My dear, I've always kept your secrets, haven't I? What is so scary that you would hide it from me of all people?".

"Oh, Agatha, it's not scary at all. It's wonderful and lovely and beautiful. It makes me get out of bed with hope in my heart. it sends me to sleep as the happiest girl of Teyvat.".

Her face broke out into a smile: "By Focalors! What is it then?".

"But I'm the only one who sees it that way! It's not scary to me at all. He brings me all the joy in my life, and yet if anyone found out that would spell the end of me and him! Agatha, why did you have to be up tonight of all nights?".

A moment of silence eclipsed, you wallowing in the realization that you gave her a hint. In both your hearts, you felt that she knew you didn't like Duke Archandelle, as with most royal women. But to go to the lengths of seeing another man... Did she think you had it in you?

"Who is he, Y/N?".

"Duke Wriothesley of Meropide. We snuck by the last two socials, and we were planning to meet up tonight in the low gardens.".

You could see the shock in her face. Anyone would be, pairing you with him of all gentlemen. You couldn't blame her. If anything, you wanted to burst in tears, put your head at her feet and thank her for her tolerance. Rather than alerting even the most insignificant servant in the house, she patted your hand and stayed.

"Does he make you happy?".

"Yes. Happy enough to live.".

"That's a lot of happiness. A level you've always deserved, but if you're honest, only recently acquired. If at last my prayers for your joy are answered and they come in his form, who am I to judge you?".

A small, meek smile made its way on her face. You threw your arms around her shoulders.

"Thank you, Agatha, thank you!".

She helped you up, then looked out of the window. Whether it was at the skies or the gardens below, you couldn't tell nor had the time to ask. She grabbed your hand and continued the way downstairs.

"Let's not keep him waiting.".

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

You stepped out, feeling light and relaxed under the cool moon. Then there he was: Your very own prince charming, who was expectantly waiting in front of the garden's backdoor. His ears perked up. Once he saw you, your time of admiration from afar was over. A few loud steps resonated before you felt his embrace engulf you, and at last you were in his arms and everything felt (was) alright.

What made it better was his reciprocation; From the big, dumb smile, to the twitching ears (how cute!) to the feeling of his strong muscles protecting you from whatever misery could strike you right then and there...

"If I told you of how much my heart screamed out for you, you wouldn't hear the end of it.".

He kissed your hand as per usual. You supposed that if you wanted more, you had to catalyze it yourself: "I don't want to hear its end, Wriothesley.".

You didn't have to hear it, for you were still held against him. His heart was beating frenetically, reverberating into your own body.

Only when he looked up and saw Agatha, that wonder dwindled.

"What the... Who are you?".

"Wait, Wrio. She's on our side. She's the only one who supports our romance.".

He let out a small 'oh', trying to relax but with worry clear on his face. Agatha, being ever so talented at soothing, stepped in.

"Greeting, Lord Wriothesley. I am Y/N's governess. Forgive me for being out, I wasn't supposed to know of this. I just caught her by accident, but I promise I won't tell a soul.".

He took a moment before speaking up: "Agatha? Oh, Y/N has mentioned you before. In that case, I'm glad it was you who caught her, and no one else. And thank you for keeping up the secrecy, though it won't be that way forever. I intend to marry her, one way or another.".

"Frankly, anyone who can take care of her and makes her happy is great, in my opinion.".

Her warm, motherly smile has lowered many people's guards. You could tell his worry was fading away, knowing she could be trusted. He nodded one more time, and off you two went. The good thing about the low gardens was the fact that unless someone was close, no one could hear you. It was the 'abandoned' garden per se. While it wasn't as grand as the higher ones, it had many beautiful flowers, a lake, and you could never uncouple your memories of playing hide-and-seek there with Agatha or your friends.

But nevertheless, it didn't stop your displeasure at the fact that you weren't recognized at his yet. You wanted to show all of Teyvat who you really loved, who had the right to call you 'mine'.

"I wish... I wish I could have shown you the higher gardens.".

He squeezed your hand and you looked up to him. You could have died with the beautiful vision in front of you: Did the moon make his piercing eyes glow better, or was that just you?

"My love, there will be a day where we can stroll out in the open, in whatever garden you want. And besides...".

He looked on his surroundings as you kept walking, now linking arms.

"I like the secrecy aspect that comes with this one. It's like... Like our social world doesn't want you to be mine. And yet here and now, you are. Always were, always will be.".

It made you blush. It only got worse when you wanted to tuck a piece of hair, and he caught a glance at the wolf bracelet: "And from the looks of it, you want to be all mine, don't you?".

"Oh, yes. I wear it all the time Father isn't around. I'm sorry if I was morose earlier. It's the fact that I can't stand being someone else's fiancée, especially when I had no say in the matter.".

"Don't beat yourself up. I know well that we're on the same wavelength. I'm already scheming on it, too...".

While you loved talking about being his, you knew that alone wasn't enough. There had to be some sort of plan, some idea as to how he'd get you. And much to your happiness, he wasn't empty-headed to doom you to just keeping your affair, an affair. You leaned close to listen.

"So I'm presuming he wants to marry you because of your family name, yes? Like all other shitty noble marriages...".

You laughed a bit: "That's the one.".

"I already have an investigator to look further into his. Depending on whether he committed serious crime, going above the general corruption that's too often seen and brushed aside, you as his future wife have the right to file for a 'Motion of Marital Worry'. Then the Court could look into how that may affect you, and thus stop you from marrying him even if your father objects.".

This was... Wonderful.

"Why, Wriothesley, I love a man who's proactive! But I have one worry about this plan: Fontaine may be less corrupt than other nations, but there's still crime that's deemed as 'not serious', especially from our class. What if they bribe someone? That's what always happens.".

"Nah, don't worry. I myself am well acquainted with some... Important figures in the judicial system. They'll be sure to look out for such a motion with your name or mine on it. And if the crime is very serious, there's no way they'll turn their head.".

He stopped walking, letting the soft howl of the wind play out before continuing: "And anyways, that's only the first plan. I've got more ideas in case it doesn't work.".

"You really think ahead, eh?".

"If it concerns you? I think about it all the time. Even my sleep is yours.".

All the time. All the time, for me. This union was nothing like the trash your father wanted to force you in. In the other one, you belonged to Archandelle, but contrary to his spiel about love, he didn't belong to you. Maybe not other women if he were 'loyal', but you saw his attitude towards seeing you as a Balthazar, versus seeing you as... You. He really only belonged to himself.

"Don't worry. If he didn't do anything, I'll just make him. If his hand is clean, I'll twist it until it bleeds then yell bloody murder until he's sentenced for life.".

Wriothesley long made it clear, and he kept making it clear to reassure you. His loving gaze, his obsession, his thought of you that went as far as remembering everything you've ever loved or told him (and believe me, it's a lot) said it all: He belonged to you, and you belonged to him, as true love should be.

You stroked his cheek, taking in his eyes as he did yours: "And when you twist him into the wrangled, bloody mess you can make... I'll cheer you on. I'll praise like I'm watching the greatest of theater.".

Perhaps it was the fact that everything has been so dreary, or that the full moon just made people playful, but you broke away from him, your arms brusquely rejecting him and giving you distance. His stunned look hurt you a bit, but the fun you wanted was priceless.

"But Duke Wriothesley, the prince must always fight hard for the one he desires, yes?".

His boot made a quiet crunch as he approached you, and you took a step back. In a way, it was fun, withholding yourself from him as he ached for you. However, he reciprocated your playful smirk, understanding what your intention was. As you stepped back, you did the occasional twirl as your dress flowed with the moon's shine.

Teasing him was so fun: "Aren't I right? Isn't what he desires most, the most guarded and forbidden by everyone else? Shouldn't he be ready to do anything if he loves the princess that much?".

"My... Are you underestimating the limits I'll break to call you my wife? While I try to be calm to avoid prejudice, I have no issue tuning into my violent side if it's for you.".

The string snapped. You turned back and ran off: "We'll see about that, Your Grace!".

How long has it been since you ran? You forgot the freedom, the breeziness it offered.

"I'll make you see, alright!"

But that wasn't where your true excitement laid. It was the quicker, heavier crunching sound right behind you.

Off the wolf went, chasing down his partner. He had the advantage of being fit, and his hybrid blood granting him more speed than the average human. But you were also flighty and you knew the garden better than he did. Whenever he thought he had you, you ran back another corner, and even pulled your tongue at him if he was far enough.

At some point, you hid close to the lake. He had not reached this area yet, so you were safe to catch your breath. If only this could last beyond your couple of hours together! Not even factoring the end yet, you thought of him, smiling and chasing you both literally and figuratively. Only when you looked down to check on your dress, did you notice your legs clenching tight and the sudden warmth, the higher you went...

Perhaps you should have remembered that you were still being chased, ergo had no more time than a few quick breaths. You didn't hear the rustle of the bushes. Before you knew it, large hands grabbed your waist and their owner let out a victorious growl, lifting you up.

"Oh no, the wolf got me!".

"Damn right, he did! Now you're his to devour!".

He wanted to carry on, but a loving state always reduces one to recklessness. He tripped on a pebble, but made sure to switch so he'd take the fall rather than you. Thankfully, it wasn't as bad as he expected.

"Wriothesley, my dear! Are you okay?".

He chuckled at your worried face: "Nah, don't worry. It was way softer than I expected. Hah...".

A crimson blush spread upon both of your faces (but especially yours). It just dawned on you: You were on top of him, like on his body, and the chase excited him in the same way it did you. His red cheeks and the hard poke you felt against your thigh said it all.

"Archons, I... I'm so sorry, Y/N. I tend to enjoy that sort of stuff, running around and chasing...".

"It's okay... I enjoyed it, too...".

The time stopped when you (slowly, yet surely) shook off the awkwardness, as you sat up in his lap. How do you proceed from there? How do you deal with feeling so clueless in what you want? You barely processed that, as you ran a hesitant hand through his hair.

"I really like your ears.".

"There it is.".

His arms tightened around your waist as he replayed the phrase in his head: "I really like your ears.". And you liked his dark attire above all the others'. And you liked his voice and his way of comportment, and by Focalors, you were madly in love with the human and wolf halves of him, never conditionally or pretending some part of him did not exist.

In the midst of this prolonged yearning, you two could no longer wait. He leaned down and sealed his promises with the kiss you've long thought of and saved just for him.

The full moon made its appearance on the lake reflection. The wind rustled the plants around you a bit. Unbelieving that this was actually happening, you pulled him in closer, wishing you could merge your bodies together. Even when you were dipping slower, slower into the ground, you knew he wouldn't let you fall harshly. You knew his tight grip was ever present to protect you from that or any other dangers, and its warmth of love and appreciation was only for you.

And you took in his mint breath, each time breathing in more and more. You were starved for your lover, and so was he, keeping you in his arms and away from a world that wanted you two apart. It already did enough of that throughout the day. The night was yours.

You two broke away, panting and looking into each other's diluted pupils. Sometimes, you couldn't believe how being with him was like having your own puppy. He whispered: "I love you with the marrow of my bones.", before dipping his head into your neck to kiss it. If marrying him, sharing the same bed, meant you could nuzzle your face into his fluffy hair, you had another reason to fight away from your other suitor.

Happy with its softness against your running hand and face, and his sweet kisses, you couldn't help but purr out: "I can't wait until... Until we can do this all the time, whenever we want.".

"Hah... And that time will come. I've already handed so much to the world, I'm not handing you out too.".

He looked up at the sky to tell the time, then chuckled in a morose manner: "Time sure flies by when I'm with you. It's like I lose control over it so easily.".

He made a sad, but true point; For one, you had to head back into your chambers, because dawn would emerge soon enough and you needed time to change, actually sleep... There was also the fact that even if he got onto the active part of taking you from your father and Archandelle (funny, you just remembered his name), your parents would probably want to have you married soon. Time was of the essence, and that essence was short-lived and impossible to take back.

As he walked you back to the backdoor, hands squeezed tight, he leaned in: "My dear, can I ask you for a favor?".

"Of course. Anything for you.".

"Next time you have to meet that idiot your parents call 'your fiancé', look at whether he behaves out of the norm. Specifically, if he's nervous or uncomfortable. Or maybe if he talks more about politics.".

"I see...".

"Nobles who feel like they have something to hide always act like that. Depending on what's found against him, he could be called for questioning. That's enough to cause unrest.".

You laughed: "As with every other noble guy. You'll probably find worse skeletons in my father's closet.".

"The question isn't whether there are skeletons. It's how you use them.".

You liked that idea a lot, enough to make you smirk. Now that you thought about it, there were many 'skeletons' around you, especially those belonging to your father. And now, you were growing into a position where you could use them, where you could be as knowledgeable in the law as Wriothesley and use it to your advantage. Sure, that might get you called 'disgraceful', but you'd be ripping yourself away from them faster, ergo into your lover. And if Fontaine was all about fairness, what was happening to you was unfair. You were just rectifying an error.

"Uh-oh. My mischievous darling is smiling like that of all ways. What do you have in mind?".

"I just liked what you said. It feels a lot like how the world works.".

"It's not far off.".

Agatha was sitting down next to the backdoor. She stood up and bowed, but her smile grew bigger when she caught sight of your intertwined hands. You felt very lucky to have her by your side.

Before bidding goodnights, Wriothesley turned you to him, and kissed you one more time, before stroking a strand of hair from your face: "Dream of me. Let us meet in the realm of sleep and continue this, until we won't have to dream anymore.".

"I promise.".

Much to your heavy heart, you headed back in, and he was off to the nearest teleportation waypoint. The ending of your meetings always brought sadness to your heart, but he worked so hard for a reason; He would rather die than you two not be together. His very passion was you, and you knew that if he was yours, some things had to be done. And you were sure that could happen, starting with the favor.

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

"Y/N, you said he made you the happiest girl of Teyvat?".

"Yes.".

"Well, you sure look like that right now! How was it?".

#yandere genshin x reader #yandere wriothesley x reader #yandere reader #wriothesley x reader #genshin impact x reader

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sweetestofchaos · 2 months

Text

Blackthorn Ch 14 | M.YG

My Gift To You Part 2 - The young royals sneak out of the palace and go to the night market.

a/n: Like before I will put a warning where the violence/ar starts and ends with ⚠⚠⚠. The fighting and Yoongi's eye injury will be described but I will not go into too much detail about the attempted rape.

a/n 2: As always thanks to @sailoryooons for making the banner. Thanks to @theharrowing for being the beta this chapter.

Harrow and Hali both took time out of their lives to listen to me rant and overthink about different parts of this. I made things 10x harder for myself and they both just said "stop. take a minute and rethink this. do you need shit to be this complicated? can you simplify it?" and guess what? I damn sure could and I did. So thank you so fucking much to the both of them!

a/n 3: @minisugakoobies, my darling Sunny is heaven sent! She helped me with the fight scene. So huge shout out to her!!

a/n 4: The awesome scar free Yoongi edit in the banner is made by @colormepurplex2. Character asks and the taglist for Blackthorn are always open!

Taglist: @thickemadame @loisje123

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Prince Yoongi held out his hand and Hoseok placed something in his palm. He walked to the Princess and took her outstretched hand in his own before he kissed her knuckles. She still wore his rings on her left hand and he grinned since her right hand was bare. Silently, he raised his hand and slipped a gold ring onto the Princess’ ring finger. Her eyes widened and Prince Yoongi winked as he released her hand. She looked at the ring in awe, it was a plain gold band that split into tiny branches that held an emerald-cut smoky quartz gem the size of a lima bean.

“Shall we, my gem?”

Hidden from the eyes of the crowd, Prince Yoongi stood with Princess Keena at the base of the steps leading towards the arena. Aga and Hoseok were on high alert as the cheers from the townspeople reached the high heavens. Music played loudly, and the Princess could feel the beat in her bones. The Prince squeezed her hand lightly, brought her fingers to his lips, and pressed a soft kiss to her knuckles.

“We will part for only a moment, Princess. Two blinks and you will be back by my side where you belong.” The Prince explained with a soft smile on his face as his thumb brushed over the rings on the Princess’ fingers.

“You have nothing to fear.”

Princess Keena nodded her head and allowed for Yoongi’s hand to pull away from her own. Their fingertips bent to catch each other’s and the Prince smiled reassuringly. As his hand dropped away from the Princess, Aga and the other guards crowded around her, barricading the space with their bodies. Yoongi held his head high as he ascended the steps, his face void of emotion as the crowd's sounds and chatter became louder.

The music switched, signaling the entrance of the Prince and once more the crowd fell silent as the eunuch spoke loudly.

“His Imperial Highness, the Crown Prince Yoongi!”

The sun above caressed the Prince’s face as he emerged from the shadows, the bold colors warmed his skin as they absorbed the heat from the rays and the scales on his jaw caught in the light. A vision of raw power and perfection, just as a Prince should be. A few bodies in the crowd leaned in and whispered to each other in the stands about the Prince’s attire. It was bright and unfamiliar, a style that many (if not all) had never seen before.

The Prince stood before his parents and bowed to show his respect. The Empress’ eyes flashed gold and Prince Yoongi stood in front of his throne with his back facing it. Emperor Min motioned for his son to take his seat and cleared his throat before he stood to address the people.

“The sun shows us favor by shining us with its light! It is a most joyous day in the Min Empire, my dear subjects!” Empire Min clapped his hands together once before he folded them within his robes and smiled. “Today marks a new era for the Min Empire!”

All around everyone started to cheer, a new era meant an increase in imported goods and money. A new era was good health and longevity to all. A new era was something none of the commoners in attendance were expecting. Emperor Min sat back down and nodded his head to the eunuch to continue on. Standing tall, the eunuch unrolled the scroll in his hand a little more and held it out in front of himself, making sure not to block his face as he read the written words.

“His Imperial Highness, the Crown Prince Yoongi is to be wed in the seventh month as in accordance with the unification to the land to the east, the Escistan Kingdom. As peacetime reigns over our lands, war rides the coattails with an unrelenting force.”

The news of the Prince’s engagement was cause to celebrate. There would be a Princess in the palace, the likes of which no one has ever seen before. She was from the Escistan Kingdom, a land unknown to most of the common folk. However, at the mere mention of war the crowd started to grow uneasy. News of the West’s plight against the Escistan Kingdom was common knowledge. The foreign land had many sought-after resources, magical and null alike. An alliance with the Escistan Kingdom would open up a new trading route and bring in more wealth for the people of the Min Empire.

“Standing beside our allies of the Escistan Kingdom to show a united front in the face of an impending war-” the eunuch paused for dramatic effect and Empress Min laughed to herself.

“To show those in the West that we stand strong, Her Royal Highness Princess Keena has accepted His Imperial Highness’ hand in marriage!”

Upon hearing her name, Princess Keena took a deep breath in and gathered her skirts in her hands. The wind picked up and flower blossoms rode the breeze by the entrance from which the Prince first came. The Princess rolled her shoulders back and held her head high as she took the steps one at a time to reach the balcony of the pavilion where the royal family all sat. Dogwood petals danced around her as she stepped into the light and the eyes of every person burned deep in her heart. If the Prince was a vision of power then the Princess was that same vision wrapped in beauty and elegance.

The Princess squeezed her skirts and relaxed her hands before she allowed the material to fall loose. The sun greeted her with open arms while a cool breeze pushed her towards the waiting royal family in a spotted blanket of petals. In front of the Emperor and Empress, Princess Keena crossed her arms over her chest and bowed. Empress Min smiled softly at the show of respect from the Escistan Kingdom. She is proud that Keena is willing to incorporate her nation’s practices into what she has been taught during her stay in the Min Empire.

Emperor Min bowed his head and the Princess turned on her heels to face the crowd. Prince Yoongi rose to his feet and strode over to stand by the Princess’ side while the eunuch continued his speech. He listed off the Princess' credentials, the status of her homeland, her role within her nation, her achievements, and much more. By the end of the speech, the crowd was impressed.

The Princess of the foreign nation was a woman for the people and within the Min Empire that attitude would take her far. As the young royals stood side by side, everyone took in their appearance. The Prince’s attire complemented the Princess’ in style and color. The unknown style of some of the garb was contributed to the Princess’ homeland of Escistan. A few of the women in the crowd wondered to themselves if the fabrics and styles would be something they would see sold at stalls in town at some point. Maybe not as bold in color but the style was in favor, the skirt of the Princess’ outfit looked easy to walk in.

“I give you, His Imperial Highness Crown Prince Yoongi and Her Imperial Highness Crown Princess Keena!”

Princess Keena did not miss the change of her title, the new power suddenly granted to her as the arena ruptured into loud cheers and claps. People shouted their joy and excitement as they watched the royal family all sit together. Dancers and musicians went back into the center of the area and put on a show. The Princess was surprised to see Ellarian and Kwangseon in the mix of bodies. Ellarian took the lead as she leapt and twirled with the other women while Kwangseon kept the tempo on his Janggo. Princess Keena tapped her fingers to the beat and when the Prince noticed, a smile pulled at his lips.

He leaned over and whispered in the Princess’ ear, “Are you enjoying yourself, my gem?”

The way the sun kissed the scales on the Prince’s jaw, a mini rainbow appeared on the Princess’ neck and the Prince smiled as he nuzzled his nose underneath her ear. So close to the gland at her neck, the Prince inhaled deeply and smirked as goosebumps rose on the skin underneath him. The sweetened tang of citrus doused in honey blanketed the Prince’s mind and he purred, his inky eyes swirling with gold as he tried to pull himself away. Princess Keena rested her hand on top of the Prince’s and laced their fingers together.

“Behave, my Prince.”

The Prince growled as the Princess squeezed his hand lightly and she turned her head to face him. His nose skimmed her cheek and pressed into the corner of her mouth, she was thankful that no one was truly focused on them. Without a word, the Princess kissed the Prince’s nose and snuck a quick kiss to his lip. Ginger, spicy and warm, surged around the Princess and Hoseok coughed from somewhere in the distance.

“Focus, young ones.” Empress Min’s voice was as firm as it was teasing, just enough to pull the Prince from his muddled headspace.

“Apologies, mother.” Prince Yoongi muttered and pulled away from the Princess but he refused to let go of her hand.

The announcement celebration came to its end soon after. The royals took their leave, the Emperor and Empress arm in arm while Prince Yoongi offered his hand to the Princess. Hoseok resisted the urge to roll his eyes at his friend's display of affection while Namjoon and Seokjin giggled with each other. Aga shared a knowing look with Hoseok as the two followed the family downward. At the bottom of the steps, out of the people’s sight the Emperor and Empress embraced the young royals.

“Welcome to the family my dear,” Empress Min cooed as she cupped the Princess’ face lovingly. “You will bring a new chapter to this world and I am eager to watch it unfold.”

“Easy, deartheart.” Emperor Min placed a hand on his wife’s lower back as he stood by her side. “They still have much to learn. Let us not rush the process and-” A sudden cough interrupted the Emperor's words and he quickly covered his mouth as he fell into a fit. Empress Min rubbed his back and motioned for guards to step in.

Daehyun came forward and helped support the Emperor before Hoseok pulled a starstone from the jumeoni at his hip. He crushed the stone and blew the dust over the Emperor silently. Empress Min gave everyone a tight smile.

“Worry not, His Majesty is fine. The pollen in the air is heavy today.”

Princess Keena nodded her head and squeezed the Prince’s hand when he didn’t respond to his mother’s words.

“Give His Majesty our regards and rest well,” Princess Keena bowed her head and the Empress smiled before she took off to her husband’s chambers with guards behind her.

Prince Yoongi watched as his mother disappeared with a frown on his lip. A gentle pressure wrapped around his fingers and he glanced down to see that the Princess had placed her hand in his. Her fingers were so small compared to his own and he sighed as the frown melted from his face. Raising her hand to his lips, Prince Yoongi kissed the tips of the Princess’ fingers and smiled.

“Shall we walk in your garden, my gem?”

The Princess stared into the Prince’s dark eyes and squeezed his hand lightly before she tugged it down to their sides.

“It is as much mine as it is yours, my Prince.”

The grin widened on the Prince’s face and he nodded his head silently. Together, arm in arm, the young royals strolled the pebble paths, crossed the bridges over gurgling waters, and admired the colorful flowers as they walked from the palace front to the eastern wing. The place where the seventh garden, filled with Blackthorns from the Princess’ homeland, created the perfect picture of peace.

The sweet almond scent from the blackthorn blossoms filled the air and intermingled with the flowers scattered throughout. The faintest echoes of rushing water hid in the canopies of the trees and the Princess felt herself breathe for the first time today.

All worry vanished from her body the moment she stepped foot on the lush green grass of the garden. She loved this place more than anything in the whole palace (excluding the Prince). This was a place of silent devotion, filled to the brim with a tenderness that only the young royals could truly appreciate together.

Hoseok and Aga spaced out the other guards in the garden, making sure to give the simulated couple their space. If the Prince sat on the ground with the Princess between his legs, arms wrapped around her waist as they shared whispered words, the guards turned a blind eye.

Aga gazed up into the sky and inhaled the scents of his homeland. His chest ached for a short moment before he closed his eyes and drank in the warmth of the sun. Once the Princess was wed to the Prince, Aga would go back to Escistan. He would leave the Princess to Hoseok, who in Aga’s eyes was more than capable of protecting her. He would leave Mingi as the head of the Princess’ guards and put Chan as his right hand. Together with the rest of the guards, the Princess would be safe. Standing by the Prince’s side, the Princess would be happy.

"Rete tann mwen, mon amour. Jis yon ti tan ankò."

Aga opened his eyes at the sound of movement from his right and Hoseok was making his way over. Aga rolled his shoulders and glanced at the young lovers, lost in their own world, hidden from the many eyes of the palace.

“We must head back soon.”

Hoseok’s voice was soft and low as if he spoke any louder he would disturb the atmosphere that the Prince and Princess had created. Aga nodded his head in agreement. A luncheon was scheduled for members of the council to pay their respects to the young royals. It was within two hours and the couple parched under the tree needed to freshen up before they stood before the council members.

Grunting, Aga made his way over to the young couple and offered the Princess his hand to help her up. The Prince stayed close by the Princess’ side as they traveled back to the palace arm in arm. They spoke in hushed whispers and the Princess’ suppressed giggles made those around them smile. How light the palace had become since the Princess’ arrival. A true breath of fresh air and eased the worry of most servants.

Outside of the Princess’ chambers, Prince Yoongi lifted their clasped hands to his lip and whispered tender words that made a wide smile pull at the Princess’ lips. Heat warmed her face and she was quick to slip into her room, a hurried wave over her shoulder as her handmaid swarmed her. The door shut with a firm thud and the Prince sighed.

“Let’s get this over with, Hoseok.”

Prince Yoongi nodded to Aga and the other guards before he disappeared into his room beside the Princess’ two yards down. Once in his room, the Prince freed his hair from its bun and Hoseok pulled it into a low ponytail that rested against the Prince’s back. They sat on the settees and couches in silence, letting the events from earlier play in their minds.

In the Princess’ room, she was stripped of her clothing and led into the warm waters of her bathing room. Hyejin used a loofah to exfoliate the Princess’ skin before she washed away the light layer of sweat and makeup. Sweet almond and mint oils were mixed into the water creating a soothing aroma that made the Princess sink into a peaceful headspace. The Prince’s words from the garden played in her mind and she smiled to herself.

“Wait for my word. You will know when it’s time.”

For the next few hours, Princess Keena was pampered by her handmaids and dressed in a beautiful rosewater and lilac bazin brocade boubou. The sleeves were wide and flowing, creating a wing-like appearance as the Princess moved about her chambers. Her braids were piled into a high crown-like bun on the top of her head with two single braids framing her face at the sides. Butterfly and daisy-shaped meori-kkoji were played in her hair for added splendor before rouge was brushed onto her cheeks and lips. The Princess’ eyes were lined in black kohl, elegant wings drawn at the ends.

Prince Yoongi wore deep blue baji with a thick golden band at the bottom with a matching jeogori. Two four-toed dragons were stitched into the shoulders of the jeogori. The Prince’s long blonde hair wrapped and pinned at the top of his head in a black sangtugwan with his golden dragon donggot to bring attention to the two dragons that gleamed on his shoulders. Gold hoop earrings rested in the Prince’s ears and many chunky gold rings decorated his fingers. He was ready and with one final touch to her outfit, so was the Princess.

In the hall when the young royals stood before each other, the Prince smiled at the sight of his betrothed. She was a vision, pure and sweet in colors that pulled an angelic hue from her skin. The side of Prince Yoongi’s lips lifted as he noticed the familiar norigae that hung from the Princess’ hip. The white moonstone and golden tassels complemented the softer colors of the Princess’ garb and a low rumble crept from the Prince’s throat.

“Your beauty never ceases to amaze me, my gem.”

Prince Yoongi spoke calmly as he offered his arm and Princess Keena rolled her eyes playful as she slipped her arm in the crook of the Prince’s elbow.

“I could say the same for you, my Prince. Blue is a handsome color on you.”

Hoseok cleared his throat and the Prince frowned at the interruption. Smiling, Hoseok motioned for the couple to move along.

“We need to go now, your Highness.”

On the way to the luncheon General Daehyun informed Hoseok that the Prince’s parents would not attend the luncheon but gave their best wishes. As acting host, the Prince sat proudly in the Orlilurth Throne, and when Princess Keena moved to sit beside him in a beautiful hand-carved throne that was smaller but no less regal looking, a deep growl echoed in the hall.

The Princess stood unphased in front of the smaller throne and all eyes were on the young royals. Prince Yoongi’s eyes started to swirl with gold as he rose to his feet and took a few steps to stand in front of the Princess. Wordlessly, the Prince grabbed the Princess’ elbow lightly and guided her to the Orlilurth Throne. His hand slid down the length of her arm and their fingers linked together loosely. The command was silent, a deadly dare for those around to voice their concerns. No one moved and no one breathed as the Princess sat in the Orlilurth Throne and crossed her hands in her lap.

Prince Yoongi huffed out a thick plume of smoke from his nose and motioned for someone to take the smaller throne away before he sat beside the Princess. After the show of dominance, official after official stood and bowed to show their respect. The vein in Hoseok’s temple was throbbing but he stayed quiet and watched as Prince Yoongi kept his face blank while Princess Keena sipped her tea. She smiled politely and listened to the spoken promises and superficial wishes of good health with tender eyes.

The people before her were not the ones who would sit in power once Prince Yoongi took the throne. Their sons, nephews, and cousins would take their place and pledge their loyalty to Prince Yoongi’s reign. For now, the young royals played their part and accepted the endless praise. Aga and Hoseok kept a close eye on everyone in the room, with so many new faces before the Princess, Aga felt on edge. His time spent in the palace consisted of training guards, war meetings, and watching over the Princess. There were many in this room that Aga had yet to meet and they could be a threat.

Green-lentil jelly, pancakes, and sashimi were shared with the council members. Along with honey glazed duck, spiced jams, sweet breads, flan, pork dumplings, somen noodles in a tasty and creamy sesame miso soup, and much more. Dancers in elegant peony pink and baby blue hanbok performed a feather dance and kept the council entertained while musicians played music. The meeting hall soon filled with laughter and loud voices as the council members started to relax and enjoy themselves.

Prince Yoongi paired a slice of beef with gat kimchi and cleared his throat softly, “My gem?”

The Princess pulled her eyes from the dancers and the smile that graced her face made the Prince’s neck heat as he stared at her. He held his chopstick in his hand, the end pitched a nice mouthful of food and he leaned closer to the Princess.

“Try this, I think you will like it.”

Princess Keena made sure that her sleeves were out of the way before she leaned forward and allowed for the Prince to feed to her. The meat was tender and melted on her tongue while the gat kimchi held a slight crunch before it slid down her throat. The Prince stared at her expectantly and she smiled.

“That was not the kimchi I’ve had before.”

The Prince grinned, pleased to see the Princess reach for more of the beef and gat kimchi. He informed her that it was the Emperor’s favorite type of kimchi and that his mother, the Empress, disliked it very much.

“And you, my Prince?”

Prince Yoongi took a sip of his water and looked at the kimchi before he turned to the Princess to see that she had her own hand held out towards him. He licked his lips and leaned in, not once taking his eyes off her. As his lips wrapped around the beef and gat kimchi he winked with thin golden bands circled around his irises. Swallowing down the food, Prince Yoongi allowed for himself to move closer to the Princess, their thighs touched as his nose brushed against her temple and he purred low in his chest.

“I can think of something far superior.”

The side-eye from the Princess wasn’t missed by the Prince and he chuckled as he pulled away, his face pleased and smug as one side of his mouth turned upward. Princess Keena slowly turned to face the Prince and clicked her tongue before she spoke.

“There is a saying in my land,” Princess Keena lifted a cup to her mouth and sipped her tea. “Silans, tou, se yon lang.”

The Prince’s brows pulled together in confusion and the Princess smiled as she motioned for Aga to come to her side. “Silence, too, is a language.”

As Aga reached the Princess’ side, she rose to her feet and bowed her head.

“I will retire for now, Your Highness. I must check on Cookie.”

The Prince watched as the Princess was led away and he laughed to himself. He could smell the Princess’ arousal the moment he invaded her space. Sitting upright, Prince Yoongi looked out at the council members and motioned for Hoseok.

“Yes, Your Highness?”

“Have Seokjin take over in my stead. I have prior engagements I must see to.”

Hoseok stared at the Prince for a while and sighed when his emotionless expression gave nothing away.

“As you wish.”

The Prince rose to his feet and everyone in the room quickly scrambled to their feet. He cleared his throat and clasped his hands behind his back as he looked out at the council members.

“Enjoy your meal and drink to your heart's content. This feast was a great honor to spend with all of you here today. As the great ones before me, I wish you all a good time. I must take my leave for now.” Prince Yoongi spoke clearly and watched with dark eyes as everyone in the room bowed. He smirked in amusement and turned on his heels before he left the meeting space with Hoseok at his side. Seokjin sat at the bottom of the stairs where a chabudai table and chair was placed. The throne was left empty and as everyone took their seats, Seokjin smiled and raised his cup as a silent toast.

Since the announcement in the morning and during the luncheon, the Princess’ maids and other attendants have moved most of her belongings into her room within the palace. The butterfly house was still the Princess’ cherished getaway but now that her title had changed, she was expected to stay in the palace with the other royals even with Agust’s recurring appearances.

At the butterfly house, the Princess sat outside and watched Cookie as he chased a butterfly. The boubou from earlier was replaced by a cream blouse with wide sleeves and a scoop neckline that had a soft geometric pattern. A peach wrapper sat on the Princess’ hips, an overall simple look compared to what she wore during the announcement ceremony.

San and Kai are on guard. The pair shared a knowing look as they watched the Princess admire the flowers that Namjoon had planted.

San was nervous and excited for tonight. Together with Kai and Minho, the three made sure that everything would be perfect for the Princess’ first unofficial visit into the town. The night market was a major event in their town. Merchants and entertainers came from all over to share their goods and stories. There would not have been a better time than tonight to sneak the Princess out of the palace.

Footsteps crunched on the walkway and Princess Keena looked up, a smile spread wide on her face.

“Seokjin!”

Seokjin was dressed down from what he wore in the early morning like most of the palace staff that held positions of power. A white cross-collared shirt dropped into a white skirt with a thick pale grey silk belt wrapped around his waist. He wore a scalloped seashell-colored open cross-collared jacket over top that had pale grey and cream rumen flowers stitched along the wide sleeves. His dark bangs framed his face while the rest of his hair was pulled into a high half bun, half ponytail style that had a good portion of his hair cascading down behind his shoulders.

A wide smile took over Seokjin’s face as the Prince called his name and he continued his way to her. Once in front of the Princess, Seokjin bowed and clapped his hands.

“You looked stunning on that stage, Princess. You looked regal and elegant, a true blood born leader.”

“You flatter me, Seokjin.”

“Nonsense, Princess. You had everyone on their toes. The women of the court have yet to shut up about your attire. They are already requesting the style.”

Princess Keena felt her face warm at the news and shook her head softly. Seokjin jumped at the sudden weight on his foot and when he looked down, Cookie was sitting on his toes. Bending down, Seokjin scooped the tiger cub up with a huff.

“He has gotten bigger since I last saw him.” Seokjin spoke as Cookie head butted his chin. “Soon none of us will be able to carry him.”

“I’m sure my guards will be able to handle Cookie. He’s just a big baby.”

The Princess reached out and scratched behind Cookie’s ears as she spoke and smiled at Seokjin.

“What brings you to the butterfly house?”

Seokjin set Cookie down and offered his arm to the Princess, “Since His Highness is busy with his own tasks, I thought I would offer to keep you company.” Seokjin explained as the Princess slipped her arm into the crook of Seokjin’s elbow. “I really must apologize for not taking the time to visit more often.”

“You are a busy man, Seokjin. Why should I fault you for doing your job?”

Seokjin’s cheeks flushed at the Princess’ words and he started to walk along the path through the garden.

“You are too kind Princess. Your gentle candor is refreshing.” Seokjin watched his steps as Cookie ran around them in circles. “His Highness was blessed by the ones before us to have you intertwined into his life. Together, with you by his side-” Seokjin grins and chuckles, “I see a long and beautiful union for all of us.”

Seokjin had spent a few hours with Princess Keena. At some point Kai left his post by the Princess’ side; he felt unwell. Minho took his place and San knew that it would soon be time for the night’s operation to begin.

Conversation between the Princess and Seokjin was easy. As the sun started to sink in the sky, the Princess voiced that she had felt unwell and when Seokjin offered to escort her to her chambers, Minho and San took over. They reassured him that the Princess would be okay and that he need not worry about her care. Seokjin watched as the trio walked back to the palace and he chewed on his bottom lip in worry.

In the palace, Hoseok and Aga were informed of a sudden council meeting to discuss the ongoing war and strategies to ensure an overall victory. When Hoseok left his post, Kai slipped into the Prince’s room with a small bag hidden within the belt of his outfit. Prince Yoongi sat alone in his chambers behind his desk with a scroll in front of him. Upon Kai’s arrival, the Prince rose from his seat and motioned for the guard to follow him into his bed chambers.

In the room, Kai removed the bag from his belt and laid the contents out on the Prince’s vanity. Charcoal and commoner clothing were bundled together neatly and the Prince was impressed. Kai helped the Prince strip out of his regal clothing and carefully dressed him in the simple hanbok before he removed all the jewelry. He sat in front of the mirror and watched as Kai came up behind him. In his hands was a small cup of water and he set it on top of the vanity before he grabbed a brush and detangled the Prince’s hair.

Once the Prince’s hair was knot free, carefully Kai pressed the charcoal stick to the blonde hair. Again and again, Kai repeated the process before he ran a fine toothed comb through the Prince’s hair to fully cover the hair. Gone were the blond strands, now replaced with flat ink black. Prince Yoongi was fascinated as he turned his head from side to side to get a better view of his dark hair. Kai pulled it into a high bun that sat on top of the Prince’s head with a simple black cloth tied around to keep it in place.

As he stood from his seat, the Prince smoothed out his hanbok and gave Namjoon a tight-lipped smile.

“How do I look?”

Kai eyed the sand-colored jeogori that hung from the Prince’s shoulders. The matching baeja was simple enough with a white trim along the hem. The beige baji paired well with the straw jipsin shoes. The dark strands of hair really made all the difference and Kai nodded his head, pleased with the Prince’s disguise.

“I would give you a few coins if you asked.”

A smile stretched across the Prince’s face at Kai’s words and he laughed.

“Everything else is ready for tonight?”

“Yes, Your Highness. I recruited the help of Byulyi to assist the Princess in dressing.”

The Prince narrowed his eyes as he frowned, unimpressed with the news of Byulyi now knowing about his plan. He didn’t want more people to know about his whereabouts, but it couldn’t be helped. The Princess did indeed need help to get ready and that was a fact that the Prince had not accounted for.

In the Princess’ chambers, Byulyi helped her into the hanbok that the Prince had gifted to her a few nights ago. The other handmaids were dismissed by the Princess in fear that she would get them sick as well. Byulyi had been the first to speak up about staying behind and passed a note to the Princess while she clasped her hands tightly. The Princess agreed with little to no argument and the others left with low bows.

The sand-colored jeogori with its thick beige cuffing fitted the Princess loosely and the beige pleated chima swayed around her feet. The cognac colored norigae was carefully attached to the Princess’ skirt by Byulyi before she was led over to the vanity. Byulyi pulled the Princess’ braid to the back of her head and twisted them into a single plait that rested against her back. The cream silk ribbon with gold larch and lupine flowers embroidered at the ends was tied to the bottom of the plait to complete the look.

As the Princess walked over to the tri-view mirrors, she smiled at her overall appearance. Her makeup had been removed and replaced with a simple neutral smokey eye and a rose tinted balm to her lips. The only jewelry that she wore were the two rings with thin gold bands and three white scolecite gems on each that the Prince had gifted to her. The engagement ring was tucked away with the rest of the jewelry for safe keeping. Princess Keena had been reluctant to remove the precious gift but Byulyi had reassured her that it would be safer to leave it behind.

Out in the hall, Wonho and Jooheon stood guard. They were determined to make sure that the Princess wasn’t disturbed while she rested and recovered from her sickness. Inside the Princess’ chambers, Byulyi lit a candle and walked over to the closed window. As she opened it quickly and stood with her back facing the Princess. Silently, Byulyi covered and uncovered the flame six times before she blew out the candle and walked away from the window. The Princess was confused but Byulyi gave her a knowing smile.

“Be safe tonight Princess and have a wonderful time.”

Byulyi draped a dark cloak around the Princess’ shoulders and carefully lifted the hood over her head.

“Where am I going, Byulyi? His Highness didn’t tell me anything.”

“You will learn in due time, Princess.”

A soft knock at the window made the two women turn around and Princess Keena was surprised to see San standing in the window; his calcite eyes glowed in the darkness.

“Time to go, Princess.”

Byulyi and San helped the Princess climb out the window and Byulyi wished them luck once more before she closed the window and covered all the sunstones for the night. Princess Keena stayed close to San’s side as he led her through a series of twists and turns until they reached a small cluster of trees. It was dark and grew darker still. As they approached, shadows started to move and the Princess’ steps faltered.

One of the shadows stepped out of the darkness and as it was bathed in silver moonlight, the Princess’ mouth dropped open in awe. There stood the Prince dressed in clothing that did not befit his status and his blond hair was gone. Dark inky locks gleamed in the moonlight, and the Prince’s lips were turned upward as he extended his hand outward towards the Princess.

"Ann ale."

Colors. So many colors, sounds, and scents surrounded the Princess as she walked beside the Prince in the busy streets of the town’s night market. The main market was lit up with sunstones that were strung up high from stall to stall. A web of lights encased in handcrafted lanterns of different colors. Hand-carved and painted signs with the names of products and pricing covered all the stalls while some had no signage. Minho and San kept ten paces from the young royals as they explored the wonders of the night market.

“Ddeokbokki! Fresh ddeokbokki!”

“Bindaetteok! Nice hot, bindaetteok!”

“Samgyupsal! We have samgyupsal!”

In the distance, a pansori told the story of how the Min Empire came to be while another one sang about the war in the West. People moved to and fro, stall to stall with baskets filled with goods. It was exciting and the Princess took it all in. The Min Empire at night was beyond her wildest dreams. Intoxicating scents of perfumes and oils danced in the air and mingled with the sweet aromas of the food. The floral and spicy scent led lonely and stressed women and men alike to the middle of town where The Vine, a prosperous inn known for its more carnal pleasures, resided.

The building was three stories high with thick wooden posts painted a deep blue out front to hold up the impressive nameplate. The whole building was a mix of blues, creams, and golds. Splashes of brighter colors were hidden away in the rooms reserved for private use. A group of four, two women and two men, stood outside of The Vine to entice those who passed by. Their grabs were soft muted tones of pinks, reds, purples, and blues. Their necks were exposed and if their robes slipped from their shoulders, a helpful hand would fix it.

The Prince had spoken with San and Kai about The Vine, he knew to avoid that area and the walkways were wide enough to do so. Princess Keena pulled at the Prince’s hand and he allowed himself to be dragged to a vendor that sold norigae. He stood with his hands clasped behind his back as the Princess asked the merchant questions and silently inhaled the sweet tang of honey-dipped tangerines. The satgat on top of his head hid his face from those around him, only showing his mouth when he lifted his face enough to speak to different vendors.

Prince Yoongi felt himself cross his eyes for a moment as a norigae was suddenly shoved in his face. He blinked a few times and carefully took the knotted silk in his hands. The craftsmanship was impressive and the colors were complementary to a few of his darker outfits in the palace. Red and gold silk rope was woven together in an intricately knotted design with three hanging tassels at the bottom, red on one side and gold on the other.

“The little lady has an eye for the best!” The merchant praised and Yoongi raised an eyebrow as he turned his attention to the Princess.

“My wife finished that one this afternoon, it took all month to make.”

The Prince reached into the waist of his hanbok and wrapped his fingers around his jumeoni that held his money. He asked the price and paid for it without blinking an eye. Princess Keena leaned into his side and the Prince swallowed down a pleased rumble in his chest. The merchant placed the norigae into a small wooden box and wrapped it in a tan cloth. Before he could hand it off, Prince Yoongi gave the merchant a nameplate and asked to keep it on hold. Anything that was purchased in the night would be picked up later on in the week to avoid any suspension.

Princess Keena slipped her hand into the Prince’s and together they walked to a stall that made the Price smirk. He recognized the name of the stall, it was the vendor that sold the sweet treats. He had a few tables set up for people to sit down and enjoy their food to which Prince Yoongi pulled the Princess in that direction. They sat across from each other at a table and the Princess looked around excitedly. Her eyes were wide as they bounced from place to place. The light of the sunstones reflected in her eyes and the Prince found himself reaching his arm out across the table.

Princess Keena grinned down at his hand and cupped the back of his hand in hers. Using her other hand, she traced invisible shapes into the Prince’s palm with the tips of her blunt nails. A pleasant shiver crawled down the Prince’s back and he carefully removed his hat, placing it on the seat beside him. He made sure to choose a table that wasn’t in the direct light of the sunstones so that he could enjoy this moment.

“Are you enjoying yourself, my gem?”

“There are no words to express my gratitude...Yoongi.”

The Prince’s fingers wrapped tightly around the Princess’ fingers and he purred. He brought the Princess’ hand to his lips and kissed her fingertips one by one. He never took his eyes off hers and smirked as silver started to quiver to life in the darkness.

A waiter came over to take their order and the Prince rattled off a few different treats. Everything was picked with the knowledge that he had gained over the time spent with the Princess. Hotteok, danpatjuk, yakgwa and manju with a pot of tieguanyin tea on the side.

In the palace, Hyungwon and his assistant Yunho, a dwarf cyclops, tended to the Emperor as he laid in bed. Empress Eunkyung sat at his bedside, eyes bloodshot and puffy from her endless crying. The Emperor was ill and his sickness incurable. From Hyungwon’s examinations and tests, Emperor Chungho had three months to live; six at the most. It was a sickness of his lungs and from what Hyungwon saw, they were slowly withering away bit by bit. The blood that the Emperor coughed up was proof of his lungs' degenerative state.

The news was swiftly delivered to Hoseok and Aga as they exited the war meeting together. They decided to tell the young royals together in hopes that they would be able to comfort each other. Prince Yoongi wasn’t in his chambers, the guards at his door informed Hoseok that the Princess had fallen ill, so His Highness had gone to stay by her side. Aga bristled at the news but kept his thoughts to himself. They made their way to the Princess’ chambers where Chan and Jooheon stood guard.

“Why was I not informed of the Princess’ state?” Aga glared at the two guards and Chan stood his ground.

“Byulyi said that she sent word to you already. Had she not?”

Aga and Hoseok shared a look before they pushed open the doors of the Princess’ chambers. Byulyi scrambled to her feet and bowed to both Aga and Hoseok.

“It seems to be some miscommunication, Byulyi.” Hoseok didn’t take his eyes off the maid as he spoke. “Word of the Princess’ illness had not reached us and yet the Prince is here with her?” Hoseok clicked his tongue and took a step towards the bed chambers.

Byulyi stepped in his way and crossed her arms over her chest. “I was giving strict orders from His Highness to not allow anyone to disturb his and the Princess’ slumber.”

“Oh?” Hoseok raised an eyebrow and took one step forward to crowd Byulyi’s space. “And will you take responsibility for my important notice being ignored for the sake of beauty sleep?”

Byulyi’s gaze wavered. What news did Hsoeok speak of? Could she risk it? It had only been a few hours, two at the most since the young royals left the palace. She wanted them to enjoy their freedom a little longer. Squaring her shoulders, Byulyi narrowed her eyes.

“I will.”

Hoseok huffed, annoyed but impressed. He licked his lips and glanced over his shoulder to Aga who stood by and watched the whole encounter. He nodded his head with a sigh and turned his attention back to Byulyi.

“Forgive me, my dear.”

Before Byulyi could react to Hoseok’s words, he had dug his fingers into a pressure point and caught Byulyi’s limp body in his arms. Scooping her up, he carried her over to the couch and placed her down gently. Aga opened the door to the Princess’ sleeping chambers and the squawk that left his mouth made Hoseok cringe. Aga stepped out of the room and charged to the front of the room. He ripped open the doors and grabbed Chan by his shoulders. Chan hissed in pain as he was slammed into the stone wall.

“Where are they?!” Aga’s voice was an airy mix of whistles, a song of death that only came from the lips of a citron crane.

Jooheon moved to pull Aga off of Chan when Hoseok held him back. The heat that seeped through his robes and singed his skin was uncomfortable. Flames danced in Hoseok’s amber eyes as he glared at Jooheon.

“Answer the question, kid. Where are the Prince and Princess?”

The beat of the drums rang throughout the night. Armed guards filled the streets of the night market and stopped anyone who had their face covered. The Prince and Princess were missing from the palace. Any other time, Hoseok would have searched for the young couple without a fuss but with the news of the Emperor’s impending demise, he had no time for subtlety. Minho and San were easily recognized by the other guards and led back to the palace. They both thought to put up a fight but feared the young royal’s cover would be blown.

In all the commotion, Prince Yoongi pulled the Princess away from the main street and ran between buildings, back towards the palace. The backways were dark and some smelled of waste and spoiled food but the Prince paid no mind to it once he heard additional footsteps echo around him. Someone, maybe three people from the missteps, were following them and Agust coiled himself tightly around Yoongi’s heart. Slowly a gold ring brightened around Yoongi’s iris and his hold on the Princess’ hand tightened.

A body suddenly dropped from the rooftop followed by two more and Yoongi growled in warning. Footfalls from behind made his back stiffen and he shoved the Princess closer to the wall beside them. His satgat had fallen off his head and hung at his back thanks to the beaded gatkkeun that was attached to it. Prince Yoongi narrowed his eyes and bared his elongated fangs as the footsteps behind him came to a stop. They were surrounded and the Prince wondered where Minho and San were.

“Hand over the girl and we’ll let you live, boy.”

From the accent that the words were spoken in, the Prince knew that these bandits were not from town. As he took in their garb, he noticed that they were dressed in darker colors and wore black leather trousers but what stood out was the scabbard on their waist. The hilt was an ivy white while the sheath was black with golden metal plating. The craftsmanship reminded the Prince of a dagger that he once saw in a book about the West. He narrowed his eyes and positioned himself between the men, ten he counted, and the Princess.

“If you want to leave with your pathetic lives, leave now!”

The men all laughed and drew their swords and daggers all at once. Prince Yoongi cursed for not arming himself with any weapons for the night. Princess Keena pressed herself closer to the wall to shield her back and watched as the men all readied themselves to attack.

One man lunged and the Prince sent him flying into the building across from them with a single kick to the man’s stomach. His skull hit the wall with a loud crack before he slumped to the ground. Another charged at the Prince and threw a punch that the Prince caught. He pulled the man in closer and sent his knee into the man’s chest three times before he shoved him away.

Prince Yoongi settled into a fighting stance and two men charged at once with their swords. He shifted their attention to him as he moved out of the way so that the Princess wouldn’t be hurt. He blocked their attacks with his forearms before he kicked them away and smirked. Three out of the four men were groaning on the ground and slowly picked themselves up. A taller man, the leader, if they had to guess, narrowed his eyes and spit on the ground.

“Kill ‘im.”

⚠⚠⚠

Four of the men rushed in and the Prince was caught off guard for a moment. He thrusted his arm out to catch the wrist of the closet man, twisting the man's arm at an awkward angle for the sword to drop. The sickening crack of bone breaking made the Princess wince and cover her mouth as the food from earlier threatened to come back up. The man staggered back, holding his injured arm while the Prince fended off the other three men with the stolen sword. Another man snuck against the wall and kept to the darkness as he crept towards the Princess.

The clinking of swords echoed in the night and Hoseok’s ears were ringing. The market was a mess with thugs and lowlifes attacking vendors for their goods. It was chaos and Hoseok was worried for his friends. He had not seen any trace of the Prince nor the Princess and something deep in his gut felt wrong. The sky above came to life, stars snuffed out by thick wafts of clouds. The air smelt of petrichor, dense and electric as thunder rolled about.

A sudden squall of wind, chilling for the warmer night sent a shiver down Hoseok’s spin. A storm was coming and it wasn’t natural. Hoseok gathered the Princess’ guards, even though he felt like everything was their fault and motioned for them to follow him.

“Circle back to the palace! Split up and check the backways!”

The Prince was panting as he punched another man in his face. His fist hurt but he ignored the pain as someone came at him with two swords. Prince Yoongi grunted as he blocked the double blades and fought to keep his balance. The man before he was larger but the Prince remembered his training with Aga.

He let the man gain the upper hand by letting his arms give out before he kicked out his leg and swept the man’s feet out from underneath him. Using that same momentum, the Prince thrusted the blade forward right down into the man’s stomach and yanked it upward, like he had gutted a fish.

“Yoon-!”

The Princess’ voice caught Yoongi’s attention and he saw that she was now surrounded by three men. He hadn’t realized that the men he had fought had put such a distance between himself and the Princess. He took a step in the Princess’ direction and two more men attacked him. As he fought, one pulled a dragger from his hip and lunged. Yoongi was able to block the sword but the dagger was longer than normal and gave the other man the chance to get too close. The blade striked the Prince and his vision blurred, scarlet red. A sudden warmth with a stinging undertone, radiated along the right side of his face.

The Prince gripped his face with one hand. Blood seeped through his fingers and trickled down his wrist as he swung his sword blindly in the other, staggering backwards. He tripped over one of the fallen men and before he could catch himself one of the men grabbed his head from behind and smashed it into the closest wall.

What little vision he had blurred even more and the Princess’ scream echoed in his ears. He struggled to stay upright and the man behind him slammed his head once more into the wall. Black spots entered the Prince’s vision and as he crumbled to the ground, he felt Agust’s claws as they sank deep into his heart.

Worry not, Princeling

Three men were left behind to check on the well-being of the others that were injured by Prince Yoongi. They paid no mind to the broken body that laid battered and bruised, bleeding out onto the dirt. If they had known who he was, they would have run long before they dared attack. Now? Now it was too late. Obsidian was flooded with pure gold, inky black iridescent scales covered more and more pale skin in larger patches and the pink tongue was now indigo and forked.

One man passed over the Prince’s body and spit at the ground in front of him. He noticed that the Prince was still breathing and glowered at the younger man. He squatted down before the Prince and pulled a dagger from his hip. He moved the satgat out of the way and grabbed the topknot that kept the Prince’s hair out of his face with a sneer.

“Enjoy living in disgrace,” the man sniggered and chopped the Prince’s topknot off without a second thought.

The bun was clutched in the man’s fist and he laughed loudly, pleased with himself. However, the victorious joy was short-lived once he noticed the black scales on the Prince’s neck and face. With the satgat no longer blocking the Prince’s features, the man saw small black horns, almost like thorns that framed the Prince’s eyebrows and two thick black horns that weren’t there before. He swallowed thickly and dropped the topknot on the ground before he scrambled to his feet.

An iron-like vice gripped his ankle and he froze. Long, pointed nails seemingly dipped in tar pierced the skin and the man groaned in pain as he felt his muscle and bone rub together. The bone snapped and the man cried as he fell to the ground. The other men, now four in total, rushed over. They watched uncertain, swords raised in defense as the Prince picked himself up off the ground. His black hair hung around his ears unevenly and stuck to the bloody mud on his face.

This was not the same man they had tried to kill. This, this was a monster.

Agust grinned at the men before him; his pointed teeth gleamed a wicked red from the flood that trickled into his mouth. He licked his lips and spit the bloody dirt on the ground. He rolled his shoulders and flexed his fingers a few times, his pointed nails glossy and soaked in blood.

He blinked once and he was in front of the men, nearly nose to nose. He growled as he grabbed one man by the throat and threw him through the wall of the building nearby. The other men dropped to their knees and begged for their lives. Agust squatted down in front of them, setting his elbow on his knee before he rested his chin in his palm.

“And why sssshould I ssspare your livessss?” His words were strung together with a hissed lisp that encased the men’s heart in pure dread.

“T-The girl!” One blurted out to save himself. “I-I know where they took the girl!”

Agust’s eyes narrowed into tiny slits and he lashed out without a word. The man’s whole body went rigid and he looked down slowly as he started to shake. Agust’s arm, up until his elbow was in the man’s chest. His heart beat dully in Agust’s bloodied hand that stuck out his back.

The other two men watched in horror as Agust ripped his hand out and squished the man’s heart right before his very eyes before he died. He turned his gaze to the other men left and they begged for their lives. Agust enjoyed ripping them limb from limb. The only other survivor was the man who had the crushed ankle and Agust dragged him by the front of his shirt.

“Ssshow me where they took my treasssure!”

A downpour drowned out the muffled shouting that came from inside a storage room behind The Vine. The building was surrounded by lilac and clematis flowers with a cluster of yew trees that casted eerie shadows against the walls.

Inside the tree men from the alleyway argued with each other about what to do with Princess Keena. They had tied her hands together at the wrists, behind her back and had her knelt on the cold hanji paper-covered floor. Water dripped from her hair and dripped onto the floor. A puddle had started to form where she knelt in silence.

They had not expected the man she was with to put up such a fight and cut their numbers down so quickly. The leader of the group was sure that the man was dead by now but he required a greater sum of money for the inconvenience of having to replace two of his men.

Money was heavy on his mind but as he looked at the Princess, unknowing of her true value, he licked his lips. The hanbok she wore was soaked through. The light beige color had darkened to a brown and clung to her body. The Princess kept her head down, her eyes closed as she willed Ceyeh to slowly come to the surface.

Princess Keena knew a bit more than the very basics of fighting. She could hold her own well enough against one person, but not three. Ceyeh had been a warrior in her time and knew how to protect the Princess at the cost of someone else’s life. It was a price she was willing to pay if need be.

Behind closed eyes, silver curled and spread through the irises of the Princess. Ceyeh pushed the Princess’ conscious state of mind behind her. Warm brown and soft grey feathers wrapped around the Princess’ subconscious and held her tightly.

“Not gonna scream for help, girl?”

Ceyeh ignored the voice that spoke to her as she controlled her presence. No feathers sprouted from her skin and she focused on the shift of her nails. The nail bed turned a deep grey and the rounded tips grew into pointed talons.

The leader of the group grabbed a fist full of Ceyeh’s hair and jerked her head up. The watery blue silver of her eyes caught him off guard and he grinned wickedly.

“A shifter? Never had a taste of one before.”

The man’s breath was rancid, teeth rotted and many missing. He gripped Ceyeh’s face in his hand harshly and turned her head every which way. He examined her and watched as goosebumps rose on the exposed skin of her shoulder.

“A nice consolation for the death of my men. It has been some time since I’ve last touched someone so-”

As thunder roared overhead the trees outside hit against the building. Lightning lit up the sky and casted their shadows against the wall. Ceyeh glared up at the man and he looked over his shoulder at the other two men in the room.

“Did you hear that?”

The men looked at each other confused.

“The thunder?”

The man in front of Ceyeh spit on the ground and threw her body to the floor. He had heard something in the thunder.

“I think our men are back. Shall we give them a show?”

Ceyeh silently sliced through the rope that bound her hands as the man above her talked. If it was a show they wanted, it was a show they would get. Ceyeh caught the rope in her hands and dropped them on the ground before she made her move. The leader moved faster, he had her pushed onto her stomach and straddled her waist. He leant down and chuckled in her ear as he held her head down against the floor.

“Nice try girlie.”

He licked the side of her face, the warmth of his saliva cooled quickly as he pulled away with a pleased hum.

“Hold her down!” He ordered his men and they moved quickly. Both men grabbed one of Ceyeh’s arms and pinned them down while the leader pulled his dagger from his hip and cut into the fabric of her hanbok. Ceyeh struggled as she tried to pull herself free but the men were surprisingly much stronger. It had been a long time since she last had to defend herself like this.

“Oh ho!” The man sneered as he looked at the markings on Ceyeh’s back. “What filth is this?” His rough fingers touched the raised marking on Ceyeh’s back and Ceyeh fought harder to get free. “Such a pretty face for a disfigured body.”

A hand pushed the skirts of her hanbok up and Ceyeh clenched her teeth. Feathers started to sprout along her ears and corners of her eyes. Her leg shifted as she dug her talons into the floor and readied herself for the pain she was about to inflict on herself. Brown feathers started to grow from her shoulders.

As they hardened, a crash filled the air as a body dressed in the men’s garb went soaring through the only door of the storage room. The body smacked into the wall, a single hole held the limp body in place by its smashed head. Blood dripped down the wall and splashed onto the floor in crimson pearls.

Through the petrichor, as Agust encroached on the storage house, he smelt the fermented and sour scent of the Princess. She was in danger and Agust growled as he heard a man’s voice over the rain. He dragged the man from the alleyway through the mud, not once caring that his broken ankle was jostled about. He broke the man’s jaw to keep him quiet and once the storage house was pointed out, Agust snapped his neck without a moment's hesitation.

⚠⚠⚠

As the scent of tangerines turned sharper and grew more bitter, Agust had enough. With no warning, he chucked the man in his hands through the doors of the storage room with such force that he became one with the wall. A grand improvement in Agust’s eyes, though before he could voice his musings he took in the sight before him. Princess Keena was pinned to the floor, her skirt was pulled up past her thighs and a man was straddling her from behind. As the man jumped to his feet, Agust caught sight of the off-colored markings on the Princess’ back and thick black smoke spilled from his mouth as fire burned in his chest.

Screams echoed in the night, suffocated by the howling winds and cherry-sized raindrops. Blood dripped from the ceiling and pooled onto the floor under torn limbs. Agust blinked once, twice, thrice before the sweltering heat in his chest settled into a dull flame. Golden eyes shimmered in the night, reflective as light flashed outside. His hair was plastered to his face, wet from the rain and blood that had started to clot.

Agust cracked his knuckles and wiped his hands on his blood soaked trouser before he ran a semi-clean hand through his hair. The choppy strands irritated the cut on his eye. The sound of shuffling caught his attention and he turned on his heels sharply with a growl in his throat.

Silver and gold, two colors that had not existed in the same space in eons, meat silently. Agust’s body was frozen as glistening tears spilled from those all too familiar silver pools. A single drop of blood plopped down from the ceiling and splashed on the Ceyeh’s cheek. A small river of tinted red streamed down her face, yet she made no move to wipe it away.

Agust stepped forward with a hand raised and Ceyeh’s arm shot out with a startled gasp as she took a quick step backwards. The distance wasn’t much, a handful of footsteps yet Agust felt that there were whole continents between them.

“My moon?”

#yoongi fic #yoongi angst #yoongi fluff #daechwita!yoongi #dragon!yoongi #bts soulmate au #bts fantasy au #fic: blackthorn #soc yoongi #blackthorn ch 14

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tomsparkyr · 2 years

Note

Being tuchels or Southgates daughter and mason having a crush on you. You can make it smut if you want to. (Who doesn’t love a smut with mason:))

𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐆𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐃𝐀𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐄𝐑

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:

summary: having a crush on the gareth southgate’s daughter is hard, especially everyone in the room can see the sexual tension between the two of them.

masterlist.

mason mount x southgate!reader

mason mount x fem!reader

warnings: mild smut because i’m rubbish at writing but i need sexy mase, small injury mention, fluff, sex references, the england team boys, nothing else?

word count: 1.4K+

thanks for the request! p.s sorry this is so late,, i went on a break from tumblr but now i’m back x

don’t steal any of my work please, thanks!

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐎𝐍 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃𝐍’𝐓 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐏 staring the minute you walked out the doors. You were wearing a small white dress that hugged your waist and puffed at the shoulders, the material hanging elegantly around your thighs. Mason practically thanked God for making summer a thing and seeing you in those beautiful dresses and those shorts he adored more than Declan.

You were absolutely capturing, no matter the day: you were the most beautiful person in Mason’s eyes (and no doubt the world thought so too). His cheeks flared everytime you entered the room, he was whipped to say the least. His heart would pound everytime you came in close proximity to him, eyes taunting as he knew you knew what you were doing to him. Safe to say, Mason Mount had the biggest crush on you.

But the cherry on top of the cake, the thing that made Mason’s crush just that little bit more unbearable: you were the Gareth Southgate’s daughter. The manager of England, the national club he played for. Fun.

Little rundown of what would happen if Mason supposedly dated you, remember: Gareth Southgate’s daughter. 1. His job and career would be at major risk. Finding out he was making out with the manager’s daughter, that’s not exactly going to look good for possible transfers.

2. Your status would be ruined, headlines would be switched to the worst of words about you. Imagine if the public found you had got in on with your dad’s players, immediate sentence for Mason instagram fans.

3. His ass would get beat. Not just by Southgate, but by his teammates. You were Gareth’s daughter and now practically sisters to the entirety of the England team, all treating you with the upmost respect. So if they ever saw Mason locking lips with their metaphorical sister. Punches to his face, multiple punches (Grealish has his hands ready.)

If you couldn’t tell, it’s basically physically impossible for Mason to date you; so all he can do is admire from afar. For not very long.

The shrill sound of the whistle being blown straight in his head made him jump back and whack his arm on one of the mannequins, hearing laughter from his mates beside him. Southgate had the whistle in his mouth, a glare at Mason’s way, his finger pointed at him. “Back to the drills, Mount.”

Mason brushed off the embarrassment of what just happened, you clearly could tell as you covered you mouth and the corners of your eyes creased; he could tell you were laughing at him.

He winced when he saw a small cut on his finger after abruptly hitting on the edge of the object while trying to cover his tracks of not-so-subtly staring at you.

Declan peered over Mason’s shoulder to see what he was whining about, then glancing down at the split on his finger; a small smirk on his face.

Rice waved his hand up in the air, calling for someone. “Hey! We have a bleeding finger over here!” Mason looked behind his shoulder at his best friends with confusion written on his face.

“Yeah, it needs help. Y/N do us a favour and take Mase to fix up his cut!��

Mason’s face paled at his words. Southgate pulled his attention away from the training, eyes flickering at the tiny ounce of blood barely dripping from Mason’s finger. He shook his head, “Rice, I don’t think he needs help. It’s football not—“

“Nope! Nope, it’s practically falling off. Mase, go follow Y/N she’ll show you where the plasters are.”

Declan pushed his friend forwards to step closer to you, your hand out for Mason to take. Before Mason followed you off of the training grounds, Declan whispered, “I’ve just got myself a guaranteed spot on the bench next match for talking back to the coach, atleast make a goddamn move.”

Mason nodded abruptly, fear danced across his face at the sheer thought of being alone with you. Butterflies burst in his tummy as he watched the white dress sway between your legs he oh-so adored, the ones he wanted around his waist.

You led the way into the empty room, medical kits scattered around the room, large tables and massage beds adding to the decor. You looked back a Mason, his figure standing awkwardly at the entrance, you smiled sweetly at him and patted the seat in front of you and the kits. He took the seat, heart racing and fighting back a blush he knew was bound to slip out.

You looked in his eyes. “Right, let’s see it.” Mason’s mind fell straight to the gutter.

“Wha— What?” His cheeks tainted a rosy red, spluttering on his words and hands suddenly clammy.

“Your cut.” You blinked, brows furrowed and heart picked up a pace as you knew instantly what his first thought was.

“Right. Right.” He swallowed, holding his hand out for you to take. He felt your hand touch his, the smooth skin of your fingers tracing everywhere but the cut, deep in thought and concentration. He lifted his head up to watch you bite your lip and inspect the injury. You looked up at him and locked eyes. “Okay, I think you need—“

“I love you.”

“What?” You retorted on instinct, Mason’s eyes widening and taking a deep breath in.

“No—No, I don’t love you, I don’t even like you!”

“Oh.”

“I mean, I do love you!”

“Oh?”

Mason practically died right then and there. Your face was pale and so was his, hearts racing and hands still touching. He stared deeply into your eyes. “Fuck it.”

He lunged forwards and locked lips with yours. Immediately slipping his tongue into your mouth and gripping your thighs to yank you onto his lap. Your hands thread through his hair and tugged on the brown locks you adored so much.

Your breaths became quicker, more needy for each other. Mason couldn’t bare the thought of not having every inch of you on his skin. He felt your hands slip to underneath his shirt, tracing the abs on his stomach.

Mason smirked into the kiss the more he felt you toy with the ends of his england jersey. He nodded into the kiss, allowing you to pull up the top and over the top of his head, leaving him shirtless and more hot and bothered than ever.

His hands moved further up your thighs, far under the dress and resting towards your ass. He groaned into the kiss, feeling you grind on him slightly in response. “I can’t tell you how badly I’ve wanted this—“

“Goddamn prescriptions, man.” You both pushed away from each other hearing the whine of Ben Chilwell outside the medical room. You whacked your back on the desk trying to fix your dress as Mason scrambled to find his shirt you threw across the room only a mere few minutes ago.

The door opened, Ben walked in and froze at the sight of you, Gareth Southgate’s daughter with the skirt of her dress scrunched up and red marks on her thighs poking out; and Mason Mount, the golden boy, shirtless and hair all over the place.

Ben’s mouth fell agape, a finger pointed between the two of you, “Did you two—“

“I was just fixing the cut on Mason’s finger.” “Yep, yep. The cut, that cut.”

Ben squinted his eyes, “So that’s why he’s shirtless?”

Mason snapped his head towards you, begging you for an answer he simply could not sum up. “It’s the summer, gets hot in buildings. You know?” You nodded nonchalant, lips pursed together as Ben grew a smirk on his face.

“So that’s it. That’s all that happened.” Ben nodded slowly, seemingly convinced in the eyes of you and Mount.

Mason perked his chin up confidently, “Yeah, just whacked a plaster on that cut and back to training we go. Walk with me, Ben?”

Ben smiled at Mason, “Of course, Mase.” The two headed towards the door, Mason pressing a kiss to your cheek quickly as soon as Ben turned his back to the two. A breath of relief came from the two.

“That cut was pretty narly, huh?” Ben said to Mason, his brows furrowing.

“You don’t have a plaster on it.”

Mason froze on his spot and snapped his head towards you with your eyes wide. Fuck.

Ben Chilwell knows Mason nearly shagged the Managers Daughter.

#mason mount fluff #mason mount imagine #mason mount #mason mount smut #mason mount x reader #mason mount x you #mason mount masterlist #mason mount fanfic #mason mount angst

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teaandfiction-28 · 2 years

Note

Fluff #3

A slightly different approach with this one starring two of our favourite boys! Thank you @indelibletraces - hope you enjoy! 💛

—————————

Prompt: “Are you blushing?”

Word Count: 1.1k

Warnings: Language, Mentions of sex

Timeline: Set between C23 and C24 of “Perfect Storm.”

“Alright, I want both of your heads on a swivel. We got one shot at this prick...make it count.”

Lifting his thumb from the transmit button on his radio, Hank settled in for what would likely be an uncomfortable couple of hours.

The medical examiner had found an almost-faded stamp on the inside of their most recent victim’s wrist which had led them to The Scarlet Letter, a high-end male strip club in River North. The evidence they had unearthed so far indicated that their victim was involved in an elicit relationship with one of the dancers who was likely to have been the last person to have seen her alive. Judge Anderson had outright refused to grant them a warrant so he’d had no choice but to send two of his female detectives undercover in an effort to flush him out while the rest of the team continued to chase down other leads that might help them close the case.

He dropped his eyes from the nondescript black door that Kim and Kate had disappeared behind moments before to the tablet in his lap currently displaying the footage from Kate’s button camera, the two women apparently being guided deeper into the club by a handsome, well-dressed host.

“You alright, man? Seem a bit anxious.”

Hank glanced towards his long-time friend and colleague briefly before turning his eyes back to the screen with a sigh and a slight shake of his head.

“If Anderson would just come outta the fucking closet, I wouldn’t have needed to send them in there.”

Anderson’s proclivity for entertaining male company at this specific venue when his wife was out of town was the worst kept secret in Chicago yet still he kept up the charade of being the loving, devoted and, most importantly, ‘heterosexual’ husband he wanted the world to perceive him to be.

“They’re big girls, Hank. They can look after themselves.” Al said quietly, his mouth tugging into a wry grin at his friend’s unusually antsy behaviour.

Hank had always been protective of those he cared about but, ever since New York, he had been particularly cautious with the assignments he gave Kate, despite her making it abundantly clear on a number of occasions that she was not onboard with being turned into a glorified administrator.

Barely ten minutes had passed when their suspect finally made an appearance, strutting towards Kate like a peacock in mating season, hair perfectly preened and chest puffed outwards. But it was clear this man had zero respect for other people’s personal space when, without as much as a hello, braced his hand somewhere behind Kate’s head and proceeded to roll his hips in slow, fluid movements right in front of her face, his rock hard abs rippling with each gyration.

“Bet your man can’t satisfy you the way I could, baby.” He grumbled in a deep tone, reaching out to take Kate’s hand and place it on his slick chest, catching her wrist to slide her palm down towards the waistband of his tiny blue trunks.

Hank hoped to God that Kate stopped him before he reached his intended target but, to his horror, she simply crossed one thigh over the other and appeared to casually lean back in her chair but, mercifully, she did withdraw her hand away from his body.

“My man can satisfy me just fine.”

‘Oh no.’

Of course Hank knew she was just playing along but he was also very aware that the man next to him was listening in to their conversation...and that he knew exactly who she was referring to when she spoke about ‘her man’.

“Oh yeah?” Flashing a dazzling smile, he moved to straddle Kate’s thighs, grinding his prominent bulge against her torso. “You know, it’s a real shame that you women are conditioned to believe that an orgasm every fortnight is the best you’re ever gonna get.”

At this point in their relationship, Hank liked to think that he knew Kate pretty well. He knew the trivial things like how she liked her coffee and how she secretly doused her hotdogs in ketchup when she thought he wasn’t looking. But he also knew that a surefire way to get under her skin was to behave like a microaggressive asshole in her presence and Hank found himself hoping that maybe this would be the one time that she just let the arrogant comment slide.

It soon became clear that tonight would not be that time.

“Well, I can’t speak for all of ‘us women’ but, believe me when I tell you...” Her tone was barely more than a breathy whisper as she leaned forwards to rest her lips against the man’s ear. “...he’s upset if more than twenty four hours pass without me screaming his name.”

Hank felt his cheeks become red hot as he sat in stunned silence, his eyes still glued to the screen as he watched Kate pin the man down to a nearby table with both arms wrenched behind his back, very obviously placing him under arrest. Within minutes, the two women were frog-marching him out into the street, still clad in only his underwear before shoving him into a nearby squad car and escorting him back to the district.

After a few beats of uncomfortable silence, Hank lifted his eyes to meet Alvin’s across the cab.

“Well...it’s, uh...” Alvin cleared his throat, dark brown eyes twinkling with mirth under the glow of a nearby streetlamp. “It’s good to know you can keep up with her.”

“Jesus fucking Christ, Alvin.” Hank groaned, tossing the tablet into his lap none too gently before busying himself with starting the car, desperate to get as far away from the awkward situation as he could. “She was just keeping her cover.”

“Hey man, good for you! I’m actually kinda prou-” Al cut himself off mid-sentence, leaning forwards to get a better look at Hank’s face. “Wait a minute, are you blushing?”

Hank’s grumbled threat of tossing him out on his ass if he ever spoke of this again was drowned out by Al’s loud bark of laughter. Once he had gotten himself under control and wiped the tears of laughter from his eyes, he eventually promised to keep shtum about the apparent ‘Sex God’ status of his best friend under the proviso that his backlog of paperwork that Trudy had been hounding him about for months would be up to date by the end of the week.

“Deal.” Hank muttered, idly wondering how Kate was going to react when she found out that her Freudian slip earned her a week full of late nights at the office when she could have been at home ‘screaming his name’.

#hank voight #alvin olinsky #hank voight fanfiction #hank voight one shot #hank voight x ofc #hank voight fluff #chicago pd fanfiction #one chicago fanfiction #fluff #prompt #request

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asukaskerian · 1 year

Text

monthly word count - february

TOTAL: 6 014 ... eh. to be fair i spent a lot of time being depressed this month. :X turns out unstructured vacation time is bad for my mental health! POSTED: none of this month's writing! BUT. Also posted!!! -Pack fuckening ABO chapter FIVE canse the chapter got so big i had to cut it in two (you guys are gonna laugh, i'm planning to rewrite the tiny little epiloguey bit and i might have to post it separately as well. whoops.) IN PROGRESS -Bleach: pack fuckening ABO (3 311 words) -Naruto: cherry wine - madatobiizu ABO (438 words) -Bleach: suburban OT4 (903 words) -Bleach: psychic wolves (1 362 words) yes indeed i did start writing the psychic wolves for lupercalia and then BAM writer's block and the day passed me by. bluh. also i added like two words to bloodsport but i ain't counting those. no teaser for pack fuckening since ideally it'll be posted soon! and a pretty small one for cherry wine because otherwise i’d be posting all of it.

-- cherry wine :/ -- "Did he say anything to you?" Izuna asked. The genjutsu had showed them moving lips, but the sharingan didn't record sounds; any impression of noise transmitted came from the imperfect kind of memory. Adrenaline made it hard to concentrate as well on accurate understanding. "Something about... Making the lesson stick this time," Naohime replied, eyes lowered, tone subdued. "That he would teach me respect, since Madara-sama couldn't be bothered." A reference to the clash in front of the daimyo's brother. Clear establishment of motive. Tobirama finding her punishment too lenient, or even suspecting it to be entirely absent, so taking it upon himself to take care of it. "Hm." Izuna leaned back, crossing his arms, eyebrows knit in thought. It made him look displeased enough that Naohime flinched, a bare hint of movement but from her significant enough. "Anything else? No? Then..." His eyes glided past Daichi, the brat tense and staring, vibrating with the desire to come closer, landed on Higashi. "Hey, card-cheater." "Aw, Izuna-sama." "Settle her down." Izuna made the hand signal for alone-isolated-stranded, but turned inwards instead of out as the gesture went when picking out an easy target, hinting... Ah. Not alone, alone, but without-littermates alone, and the hint of movement toward Izuna's own waist inviting Higashi to compensate for that somehow. Madara considered the variation on the established sign absently, head tilted. Should they create a 'this ally needs comfort' sign...? Hm. One would probably emerge on its own. Battle-sign was fluid enough... The other Uchiha keeping their distances, Madara and his littermate went drifting down the secured corridor, eyes scanning the varnished wood for telling scuff marks. -- suburban OT4, nel attempting to get grimmjow to sext -- Goat: okay, picture this. nineteen, five months pregnant, sleeping under a bridge. Me: alone? Goat: don't interrupt me. Me: who knocked you up Goat: idk some jerk Me: hn Goat: grimmjow. >:( Me: yeah fine ok. sleeping under a bridge. Goat: suddenly, guy in a limo. Me: suspension of disbelief crashed Goat: fuckin pick it up then! Guy. In a LIMO. Goat: by the way it's also raining copiously and my tattered t-shirt is sticking to me like cling wrap. Me: ...... ok how much thought did you put into this Goat: ANYWAY guy brings me to his manor (shut up. Yes the manor is essential and also their bed is like the size of two parking spots.) Goat: hot bath with bubbles, five courses dinner, etc etc etc. then comes the time to pay my rent with my body, BUT! Goat: intimidated, i believe he will then ravish me!! Me: and then you wonder why women take ten centuries to nut. If you gotta rewrite war and peace first Goat: shuuuut the frickfrack up Goat: it turns out! I am not for him! His beloved wife is in a tender condition (swooning, possibly also pregnant) and he, too vigorous and virile, etc etc Goat: just saying, i would go down like the titanic. Me: uh huh Goat: very grateful and also very seduced etc etc, him looming sternly to ensure i do it right, her overwhelmed, never knew the touch of a woman, yadda yadda Me: i'm still stuck on how SOME GUY got you pregnant and fucked off Goat: OKAY FINE there's this sexy bad boy who knocked me up, condom broke, i didn't tell him BUT he finds out, comes to find me just in time to see the limo take me away! Goat: climbs the wall to rescue me from my lascivious captor Me: if i gotta keep dictionary.com open for this Goat: >:////

-- grimmichi psychic wolves -- "Okay, when you said 'I know where we can hide,' I'm gonna be honest, I didn't think you meant a love hotel." Studiously avoiding looking too closely at the wall of dildos, Ichigo took a cautious step away from the door he had just locked behind them, and re-locked to be sure. Further into the room Shiro padded cautiously along the walls, throwing disgruntled commentary about the nose-burning smells of cleaning chemicals and the stink of human upon human and all their sweat and sex. As love hotel rooms went, this one was pretty tame. Sleek black fixtures and spooky purple lights that illuminated jack shit, a huge bed, and behind a glass wall (to keep from getting the bed drenched, he assumed) an entirely transparent bathtub under what seemed a surgical suite's worth of floodlights. Also each dildo had its little spotlight inside its little glass case like they were a rock collector's exhibit but he wasn't gonna -- "You take one out and we're gonna get billed for it," he warned, ears burning, as Grimmjow poked at a two-tipped monstrosity. Grimmjow only hummed vaguely and went back to the crate they'd somehow managed to smuggle inside. "How did you even know about love hotels anyway?" "You kidding?" the other man replied absently as he fit his fingers in a gap between the crate and its lid. "That's the only part of your culture that stayed even a little bit interesting, after Aizen and Tousen killed the samurai shit with their fuckin' pontificating." Ichigo scowled. Didn't find anything to reply, though. After what had happened to him on its soil, Grimmjow was entitled to dislike Japan. "Not that we were allowed to visit anything anyway... C'mere, hold this open." Ichigo went to hold up the lid. Inside, Pantera lay unmoving, a puddle of inky fur; didn't stir when Grimmjow bent over the edge of the crate to press his hand against her flank. He didn't say anything. Ichigo tried not to stare too obviously as he tried to read Grimmjow's face, tried to find worry or relief or anything at all. The pack bond between them had gone placid and flat like the surface of a deceptively slow river -- all sorts of things moving underneath and none of them for him to see. They'd abandoned the truck and the man had gone into commando mode, or Ichigo assumed -- swift decisions, swift movements that ended up feeling choreographed in advance for how seamless they were. Grimmjow had stopped them on a dock and swiped an unattended dolly like he'd had every right to make off with it, swiped a crate the same way -- tipped his wolf into it from the lip of the truck and off they went to steal someone else's flatbed truck, someone's jacket off the back of a café chair, someone's wallet out of their back pocket. Ichigo had trailed after him like a lump and tried not to look too spooked.

#teaser

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lostgreekgod · 3 years

Text

delusion

a/n: hello aaaaa i had @theaudacitytowrite give me a prompt for a loki x reader fic solely because I do not find entertainment elsewhere! anyways

word count: 2776 (shit got longer, but what can I say I'm very feely when it comes to angst)

warnings: angst. angst angst angst. some crying. there was this one mention of blood, tendons & stuff ? but that's about it have fun crying

pairing: loki x f!reader

summary: you and Loki have been together for quite some time now. what happens when his insecure self realizes that you love him? and that he does too?

another a/n: I feel like this could use a part 2 i might come up with it next week because I've got a 7 day break from school yayy lmk if you'd like that nexie

4 years. It had been 4 years, 3 months, and 27 days since y/n had shed a tear. But on this fine autumn morning, as the yellow and brown leaves rustled in the gentle winds, as the smell of coffee, pumpkin, and spice wafted in the air, she let a tear fall- courtesy of her lover. No, scratch that. Her ex-lover.

\\ 3 hours earlier \\

Humming a tuneless song, an exhausted y/n walked back to her room in the Avenger’s tower. A whole day of training wouldn’t be smart when she had a crucial mission to lead just the next day, but she wanted the mission to pan out exactly right. This wasn’t her first mission, but the stats were so much more critical compared to the missions she had been sent on before. A new rival organization was springing up in SHIELD’s radar, and they seemed as high as ever in spirit, regardless of how the Avengers had managed to crush HYDRA not so long ago. Apparently, according to a message they had received a few moments before, the up-and-coming organization had 4 junior agents in captivity, and in exchange for those agents, they wanted intel. Fury’s plan was to provide a hard drive with incorrect information with an embedded virus, and have the agents rescued before the rival agents decrypted the file and realized SHIELD’s play. Two birds with one stone, as he had phrased. y/n was going to go in with Natasha and Loki. Nat, because she was as light as a cat on her feet, and Loki because he had his seidr for illusions, teleportation, et cetera. This wasn’t going to be her first mission with her 4-month boyfriend either, but she was excited to be fighting alongside him, nevertheless. As she washed up in the shower, she heard her room door open and close with a click. Finally. She thought with a smile. She could go to sleep in her beloved’s arms for the few hours she had left for rest and relaxation before they set out. Putting on her nightgown, she left the bath. She saw how Loki was cocooned on her bed, arms reaching out towards her, a little smile on his face. Unlike her, the god didn’t train much- but he still looked tired.

“Hello, my little lioness. Whom did you beat up today? You do realize it is wiser to rest before a mission.” He said in a loud, lazy whisper. All y/n could do was smile sweetly at him and snuggle under the covers. He knew how the lack of training made her insecure about her ability to be stealthy. Instead of letting Loki’s arms wrap around her like most of the other nights, she spooned his chest instead. Loki’s eyes widened at the sudden gesture, his body tensing up at the sudden disposal of love. He had only given love; he had never been on the receiving side of it. Wait, love? He didn’t love y/n. He didn’t. That swell he felt in his chest every time he saw her was simply the result of the great appreciation and respect he had for her. Nothing more. He couldn’t love her. After all, everyone he had ever loved ended up being taken away from him.

Chuckling lightly, he hoped y/n wouldn’t catch onto his nervousness. “What are you doing my dear?”

Inhaling his scent, y/n mumbled, her eyes still closed. “Sleeping. Go to sleep my love. We have to be up in less than 3 hours.”

My love? Yes, y/n had called him that multiple times, but he had never thought much of it. Why was he suddenly so wary of it? Did y/n truly love him? No, maybe she wasn’t thinking. She was already worn out and sleepy, maybe she blurted it out accidentally. No one could love him. No one.

y/n sensed that he still hadn’t relaxed. Cracking her eyes slightly open, she asked lightly, “Is everything okay, love?” Loki’s brows furrowed at her question. There it was again. Love. Loving him was impossible. To love him would be delusional. A move of delusional stupidity. Blatant ignorance.

Loki shifted away from her and sat up, ignoring the throbbing in his chest when he heard her whine in response. He met her eyes only to be asked another question. “Love, what’s the matter?”

His heart clenched against his chest, suddenly the room was too hot. He had to understand what was going on. He had to figure this out before it was too late.

“Love?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

y/n scanned his face, trying to understand the reason for his sudden withdrawal. She simply hummed in response.

Loki raised his eyebrows, indicating her to reiterate her response.

“Yes, what is the matter?”

“You referred to me as ‘love’.” He repeated, his tongue spewing out the last word like it was coated in dirt and grime.

“Yes, I suppose I did. Is something bothering you?” she asked again, placing her hand on his thigh as a gesture of concern.

How was he expected to ask her if she actually, truly loved him, without causing a kerfuffle? Without making it seem awkward, without losing her? What if she said she didn’t love him? What then? Would that make him feel better? Would that make him happy? A chill ran down his spine when he realized his answer. No. he wouldn’t be happy. In fact, he’d be terribly upset. He wanted y/n to love him. Shaking his head, he tried to heed logic over his emotion. He had to stop himself before he caused something he couldn’t fix. Before y/n realized the monster he truly was. He had to protect his beloved y/n, that would be the least he owed to her, after all that he had led her into.

He neutralized his expression, calming his breathing. This was for the best. He was the God of Lies, he did not deserve love after all that he had done.

“As a matter of fact, y/n, something is bothering me.”

y/n nodded, encouraging him to explain his predicament. “You can talk to me, love.”

Loki inhaled quickly, the use of the blasted term knocking him out of character for a second before he was able to regain his composure. He would ask the question directly. Right to the point, like he was doing business. That was the only way he could maintain his pretense without breaking down too soon. y/n might never forgive him after tonight, but to have her angry at him was so much better than losing her, on his account.

“Do you love me?”

y/n gasped lightly at the sudden question, her eyes widening at how Loki asked her about something so deep with no emotion in his voice. She sensed his sudden hostility, this coldness he was presenting her with. Sitting upright, she looked into his eyes. Nothing. She could read nothing from his expression. All she could pick up was this eerie sadness radiating off of him.

She decided to try reasoning with him. This sudden hostility meant something was bothering him at a much more personal level, and such issues mustn’t be dealt with before an important mission. She would know.

“We don’t have to do this today, Loki. We have to be up early tomorrow, and I doubt- “

“Answer the question, y/n.” Loki interrupted, his voice hardened like steel.

“Loki, we really mustn’t-“ she tried again.

“Answer, y/n.” he pressed.

y/n could only look at him and wonder what the cause was for the unexpected change in his demeanor. How was she supposed to tell him? How was she supposed to give the answer to the one question that could either make or break everything that they had together? How was she supposed to tell him that her love for him was far more than life? That he was her life? It didn’t matter how less time they had spent with each other; she knew him a lot longer before they had decided to begin their courtship, and she had fallen in love with him even before they had gotten romantically involved. She only fell harder for him after she saw how he truly was. How broken and vulnerable, how he yearned for a place in someone’s heart, how he wished someone could love him without any foretold conditions. How he wished to be free. Loki’s eyes widened as realization dawned upon him. y/n’s lack of response answered his question. She did love him. But he had to hear it from her. That was the only way he could finish this for good. For his y/n.

“I’m waiting.” He prompted, slightly flinching at the coldness in his voice.

y/n’s eyes flicked over to his, her skin eliciting goosebumps from the steely nature of his voice. He had never been like this to her. The last time she had seen him like this was when he was under Thanos’ control. Breathing deeply, she reached out and held his hands, shutting her eyes for a moment.

“Yes. I do. I love you,” she whispered, blood pounding against her ears. Her heart convulsed in her chest when Loki didn’t reply. She cracked her eyes open, her fingers growing cold at Loki’s unchanged demeanor.

Loki’s chest heaved at her response. ‘I love you,’ she had whispered, her eyes shut at the vulnerability of their situation. He already knew what she was going to say, but to hear it from her own mouth, her voice tiny as ever in fear that he wouldn’t return her feelings had him gasp slightly. His blood ran cold, his mind freezing at another realization. He loved her too. Of course he did. How could he have been so blind? He loved her so much, he hadn’t even noticed. Finish it! Finish it right now! Before you make things worse! His mind screamed at him. He knew what he had to do. Swallowing, he tried to memorize the feel of her hands against his. This was all he was ever going to have. A memory. A memory of his little lioness, a memory of what he would have had if he was someone different. Someone nicer, better. Someone not him. He pulled away from her, and met her eyes, his expression stoic and emotionless. Like the monster he was.

“Pity.” He whispered, his heartbreaking at how y/n’s eyes widened. He thought he experienced heartbreak when he lost his mother. As destructive as that moment was, many years ago, he believed he wouldn’t feel anything over this. After all, you can’t break something that’s already broken. But boy, was he wrong. This was heartbreak. And apparently, it's even worse when you go through it a second time. His veins felt like ice, his head heavier than ever. He could feel his throat closing up, all he wanted was to rip his heart out of his chest. He didn’t deserve her. Hell, he didn’t deserve to live after all that he had done.

“What?” came y/n’s voice, a little barely over a whisper. He couldn’t help but notice how her voice was heavy, laced with hurt.

“It’s a pity you think you love me.” He reiterated, his words chapping away at his already cracked heart.

y/n couldn’t process the event unfolding in front of her. Loki didn’t love her. No, worse. Loki thought it was stupid that she loved him. If she had any concern for her dignity, she would ask him to leave. But she loved him far too much. She decided to try one last time. Straddling him, she reached over and cupped his face in his hands, pressing her lips against his ice-cold ones. He was shocked for a moment, and before he realized, he was kissing her back. I love you, he wanted to say. I love you too. But all could do was try and engrave in his mind the feeling of her soft lips on his, the warmth of her hands against his cheeks. This was the end. He had to use all his willpower not to pull her in his arms and deepen the kiss, and whisper sweet nothings in her ear.

Breaking away, y/n whispered, “it may be stupid that I do. Pathetic, even. -It isn’t pathetic. I love it.- Honestly, not one day goes by where I don’t face criticism about how I must be an ignorant fool to love someone like you. But what these people don’t understand, is that they are the ones that are ignorant. They do not see you as I do, and although I wish every day that they would, I doubt it will ever happen. You are, the best thing that has ever happened to me. That ever will happen to me,” she says, taking his hand and placing it over her heart. “Can’t you feel this? This is what I feel every time I think of you- this is how I feel every time you merely breathe in my direction. -You are the reason I still exist, my dear. You keep me tethered to the outside world.- My love for you has been in existence for far longer than our courtship. I wish I could do more than just tell you how much I love you, if I could, I would give you anything, everything you’ve ever wanted; my heart was yours the moment I set eyes on you 2 years ago. So take it, trample over it- it was yours to do anything with anyway. -So was mine. I am yours, just as you claim to be mine.- I love you, Loki Friggason, and I refuse to stop. -I love you too, my darling y/n. but I must do this. For you. Forgive me.-”

All Loki could do was hold in all those thoughts he desperately wanted to put in words. He could feel his eyes well up, his chest convulsing for the umpteenth time. Inhaling her scent, he hoped he would remember the sweet smell of chocolate and wine she always smelled of.

With great restraint, he pushed her off of him, his heart churning at y/n’s gasp. Her heart cracked at his dismissal. He couldn’t look at her while he shattered her heart, while he ripped it right off the pedestal. This was the end.

“You say all this, but you mean nothing by it, I assure you. I have encountered numerous midgardians professing their love for me, but I can tell when someone lies y/n. And it is very clear to me how you are simply overwhelmed. You do not love me. You are simply but a blatant, ignorant fool.” Could his heart shatter any further? Apparently, yes. It clawed at his chest, pain searing in his bones. He would feel all of it. He would embrace it.

He forced his lips to morph into a twisted, sickening smile. Agony. That is what he felt. Fresh burning agony, like fire in his tendons.

“What we have is all but a product of boredom. I was simply bored, silly mortal.” He looked up at her when she gasped, her hand on her heart. It was almost as if he could hear it shatter. All he wanted to do was hold her and weep. Tell her how sorry he was. Tell her how he wished he was the person she truly deserved. Instead, he was going to crawl into a ball and wish for death.

He got up to leave. Once and for all. Shutting his eyes for a moment, he willed his tears to sink back to wherever they came from. He didn’t deserve to cry.

“Did I ever matter to you?” he heard her whisper. Deciding not to answer, he stepped towards the door before she called to him. “Did I, Loki?” she asked again, her voice steadier. There was the woman he had hopelessly fallen in love with. A lioness, she certainly was.

He turned around to look at her, the same lifeless smile dancing across his lips. If he was someone else, he would have been taken aback at y/n’s stoic expression. She would rise again. She would continue to live her life, and no one was going to stop her. Especially him. That was the lioness he knew of. The only evidence of her hurt was the tiny teardrops prickling in her eyes, which he could see only because of the morning sun rays peeking in through the gaps in the curtains. She never cried.

“No,” he breathed, swiftly exiting through the door before she could see the tears that had traitorously fallen onto his cheeks.

part 2 here!

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lameghost · 3 years

Text

Scream blue murder.

Bonten! x yakuza! leader [part 3]

word count - 2,538

💿 - deathwish by poutyface, to the bone by j.t machinima

Warnings❕- angst + fluff+ suggestive. Mentions of death, sewer slide, drugs, physical and mental abuse.(slight hints of ptsd) Mentions of Izana x reader and others. Spoilers! Bonten arc. Blood and gore. (pinky cutting and mentions of gas poisoning, mass murder.) reader goes berserk! putting a knife in each other's throat? reader is freaky fugg. and also apparently, an expert at chemistry.

[part 1] [part 2]

“So, 12 years… You were gone, just like that and you aren’t gonna say anything, huh? Saying ‘I love you’ like that, ain’t fucking fair, y/n. I missed you for all those years. I searched for you like a madman. Fuck, you didn’t even come by to look for me or shit. You know how fucking miserable I was, after Izana was gone and you too!” Everyone flinched at the sight of the usually calm Kakucho raising his voice. You were surprised too, but you kept on an indifferent facade as you looked down, guilt overwhelmed you.

Kakucho takes a few steps towards you, “I wanna hate you for it but I can’t. You’re too fucking precious to me. The last one I have here, and I thought you were fucking dead.” You did no such attempt to avoid the slap which landed on your face as tears flowed down Kakucho’s face. You heard the faint gasp from all the executives of Bonten. You just kept quiet.

“Hug me, god fucking damn it. I missed you.” With no hesitation, you engulfed him in a hug, basking in his warmth which came into contact with your bare skin. You smiled, relishing the memories of your childhood.

“Fucking hell that was touching as shit.” Sanzu fake cries, deep down he still felt bad since he knew that you were as important to Kakucho as Mikey was to him. Losing you would have meant losing his entire world. In reply, you lifted your middle finger, sticking out your pierced tongue at the pink-haired male. He chuckles slowly.

“Holy shit, yer got piercings, that’s hot, dude.” You nodded at Rindou’s question .

“Show us, I mean your tattoos and piercings.”

“That’s a pretty specific kink you have, Sir Mikey. I mean, I know I look hot as shit but.” He snickered, signalling that he only wants your full identification.

“If you insist, your honour.” You fake sighed as you turned around and began explaining your tattoos.

“29 piercings and last I checked, around 18 or 19 tattoos. Got my first tattoo at 13, illegally. Thank god I didn’t die of infection or some shit. Dude was a nice guy, he even taught me how to take care of a new tat.” They all gasped, ‘doesn’t that shit hurt you?’. Ran and Rindou who were basically half covered in tattoos were also surprised by your ability to withstand the pain.

“Which one hurt the most though? Your tits or sumn?” Sanzu bluntly asks as he touches the tattoo on your left arm.

“Oh well, yer wanna see? Better pay money though.” You smirked and sent him a wink as you gave him a slight teaser of your tattoo, he blushed. Welp, you broke the dope peddler.

“You’re quite a mystery, aren’t you?” Mikey says, his voice dark and screechy, almost like he has been straining it.

“Your back. That ain’t a tattoo. Someone carved those characters into you.” He traces the Chinese characters on your back. You slightly flinched at the sudden cold touch of his finger. “Only the top brass of Yakuza has this, yeah? Which means, you’re the current hidden leader of the Yakuza. Working for them quietly backstage, is that fun? Don’t you wanna take the credit?” He was inches away from your face, you tilted your head slightly at his demise.

“Take credit? Pftt. Observant but dumb aren’t yer, pretty boy?” You cupped his jaw between your gloved fingers. “I fucking love it when people worship me, bow to me and praise me for all my work but I wouldn’t want my pets to go unrecognised do I? Plus, isn’t it harder to keep myself lowkey from the police that way? I have my plans, baby and I don’t like it when people question me.” You smiled and let go of his jaw, never in his life has he been this stunned by someone’s actions and indifference. This was a first.

“This carving was done by my dad. I was the only child who was able to take over the family business so, here I am. Healthier than ever!” You smiled, highlighting the dimples which brightened your eyes even more under the light which shone above you.

“So, you’ve taken a blood oath?” Kokonoi asks, curious.

“Oh that’s fucken bullshit. We don’t do those. We’re just old delinquents who don’t wanna follow laws, we don’t sacrifice ourselves. I mean that does sound cool though. The most we do is cut our pinky. I’ve cut 12 as of this week,” You sat back down, nonchalantly telling them. You put your suit back on, adjusting the tie.

Bang! A loud gunshot was heard from behind you, in one swift movement, you swooped Ran and Sanzu who were directly in front of you. ‘Top criminal organisers but can’t see a bullet coming their way? Great, fucking idiots.’ You looked down, the bullet grazed by your shoulder slightly. Thank god for that. You picked up the shell and the bullet which landed not far from it. You analysed the bullet, standing up immediately after recognising it. ‘Mauser C96. 0.45 ACP. Made in Germany. Oh fuck, why are they here?’

“Oi, you twinks. Came here to save me or something?” One by one, your members peeked their heads out from behind the oil tanks. Number 2, Tanaka Ryu. This kid has been behind you since juvie days. Once he got out, he looked for you and followed you till the very end even if it meant jumping into hellfire for you.

“If I couldn’t fight, I would have died to these hot dudes, you know? Do we need to practice again? Should I drill it into your brains?” All the members, a good 25 of them, stood at attention, weapons dropped to the floor with their hands behind their back.

“No, your honour!” In unison, their voices echoed one another. Bonten was too stunned to say a thing. Their mouths merely shut tight as your dominant aura overflowed through the entire warehouse.

“Good, and Tanaka, don’t mind, okay? Small mistake. I’m fine, n’ways.”

“Apologies, your honour. Take my pin-” You shushed him as you signalled everyone to get down and ready their weapons. Bonten, who was behind you, followed your command. You gestured for Mikey to come to your side, he slowly strides towards you.

“Mikey, listen. Now, your turf is being infiltrated. You heard that gunshot? Nagant M1895. That strong shit is only used by the Yakuza traitors. Those fuckers have been on my back for the last few months and I need a few extra hands so that I can alert my turf. After that, I’ll help yer. There should be at least 230 of them. 2 top heads and the other 8 executives. The rest are all their lackeys, bad fighting skills but good spirits. Now, we separate, I’ll alert your members too.”

You and Mikey, the leaders, moved into positions immediately. Working together for the first time but it almost seemed as if you’ve worked together for the past 10 years. You stationed Sanzu and your number 3, Haruto, right in front of you. These two are wild and have a few screws loose in their brains, so they make a good pair. They can slaughter some while you make a few alerts to your guards in your territories. You wanted to get it over and done with fast even if it meant, murder. So, you analysed whatever you had in your reach.

“Y/n-chan. What are you doing? I wanna smoke.” Sanzu said, questioning what you were looking at.

“Shush, let me think of a way to get rid of evidence fast and simple.” Haruto drags Sanzu back to their station as they both chat away, swinging the bloodied weapons in their hands. Psychos, I swear.

‘Benzoyl peroxide, TNT, fire extinguisher, bleach, ammonia and diesel.’ Fucking hell, they were making this a bit too easy isn’t it? You called Sanzu and Haruto over to help you. You took the empty tank, putting on your mask before starting and gesturing the two males to do the same. You poured the bleach into the empty tank followed by ammonia.

‘Do you think what you’re doing is right?’ The tiny voice in your head asks. ‘Well these people mass murdered 226 of the Yakuza members, isn’t it only fair?, ‘Of course, but can’t the police punish them?’. ‘What. They hurt me, not the police, I’ll make them save me a seat in hell. Especially that blabbermouth oldie.’, ‘I guess there’s no stopping you, y/n l/n. You’re a murderer after all.’ Wait, what the fuck? I’m not! They did it first, why is it me? Why am I to blame? Fuck, fuck you. ‘You’re a murderer by nature, y/n. That’s why your Mom and Dad passed this onto you.’ Shut up. They’re dead, they are just ashes, seeping into earth or maybe being swallowed by maggots. Those 2 are dead to me. ‘Your mom isn’t dead. Not yet.’ Well, I want her dead. ‘You gonna kill her, too? Like what you did to your old man? You’re naive, a pretty soul, one that I would kill to dirty but you already did it yourself.’

You halted your movements, Sanzu and Haruto stared wide-eyed at your face. Your face contorted with rage, aura screaming murder at them. This brings Sanzu back to 12 years ago when- nevermind. “Earth to y/n, we gonna continue?”

“Haruchiyo. Katana. Haruto, pass him your pistol, I’ll be right back.” ‘You’re gonna regret it, y/n.’

“SHUT UP! HOLY FUCK SHUT THE FUCK UP! UGH!” You let out an indignant roar, making Kakucho and Mikey halt their movements as they continued throwing punches to the opposing team. Kakucho ran towards you, covered in blood which did not belong to him.

“Hey, y/n. Hey, look at me.” You looked at him, tears of anger welling up in your eyes. (You can only cry when you’re angry but not when you’re sad.) He pats your back, telling you to kick some ass to relieve your anger. Well, that was your green light.

You swung the Katana out from your back which had a strap, tailor made for you to store katanas. As always, pecking the handle beforehand, showing respect. ‘About 104 left, gonna be easy.’ The rest of your members and Bonten members along with the executives gathered, wanting to watch you fight. It was almost like a playback of 12 years ago.

You dropped the katana to the floor, jumping onto the first person you see, hanging from the shoulder. You swung around, possibly breaking his spine and picked up two other men by their collars. Swinging them towards the tower of diesel tanks, you made your way to your next victims.

“So, pick yer death.” You smirked, but your eyes were empty and lifeless. Your bloodthirsty aura engulfed the entire warehouse, stripping the audience off any form of excitement. The male approached you, in a split second, he was inches from your face.

“HAHAHAAHA, you’re fast but you lack experience, sweetheart.” You caressed his face, voice coated full of sinister but in his ears, it was like honey. It gave his brain whiplash how contrasting your voice was to your actions. Without batting an eye or even giving him room to recover from your touch, your left leg flew forward. Landing directly onto the wound of his temple, plunging onto the floor. You took the chance to take a seat on his back.

You rummaged through his pockets, stopping when you found his phone. You dialed a number, the others stared at you curious. “I need about, uhh, 7, no, 8 ambulances, for the Shibuya area. The warehouse down the second turn. Thank yer!” You smiled and threw the phone across the room.

“Now, there’s only… let me see… 3 of you left. Rock, paper, scissors. Winner gets to pick the lucky one.” You signaled them to start playing, with trembling figures, the 3 males began playing. You placed the lit cigarette in between your lip, enjoying others misery.

“She’s kinda hot, though.” You heard Sanzu whistling and howling from behind you as you exhaled the smoke and took off your blazer, rolling up your sleeves. You sent a kiss his way as you made your way to the poor male - a prisoner of his own bad luck.

“Hey, mister. Long time no see. I’m bigger now, if you can’t clearly see.” You subtly flaunt, towering over the male before you. You bent lower so you could make direct eye contact with him. The eye contact sent cold shivers down his spine which made him froze, his lips quivered as you moved your gloved finger, gliding down his tattooed back.

“Oi, mister. I’m talking to you, it’s rude to not reply to your master, y’know? It kinda hurts my feelings,” You faked your sadness, pretending to sob into his shoulders. If he wasn’t already stiff, he is now officially the statue of liberty.

“Y-yes, your honour!”

“Good pet. Now, let me get my work done. You know what happens to traitors, don’t you? Perverted old man.” You removed the kunai which was secured tightly in the pocketed garter which hung from your thigh. You simpered, looking pleased at the amount of fear you could elicit from the pathetic man.

“AHHHHHHHH!” He writhed in pain, screaming blue murder.

“Okay, that was the last one! 12 plus 10 equals 22! 22 pinkies!” You giggled, cracking a smile from your scarred mouth. A horrifying sight, it was.

“Fuck, didn’t know you were capable of such cruel shit.” Ran sends a surprised look, scanning you up and down as you wiped the blood off your gloves and chuckled.

“Born and bred to do this shit.”

You knew you were done but there was some unsettling feeling that irked your senses, but what was it? Could it be you forgot something-

“We’ll take over from here, as an apology and a thank you for not murdering us.” Mikey said, a small smile on his face.

“Oh no, it was great working with you, Sir Mikey.”

“Don’t call me that, on god, I’ll put a knife in your throat.”

“Do it then, it’s not a threat Mikey. ” Your little bicker was put to a stop when Kokonoi seemingly ‘cleared his throat’ loudly.

“So, you’re a professional torturer, a sugar mommy, free show stripper, yakuza leader, a mass murderer, chemist and now, a hooker. What else do we not know about you?” Kokonoi asked, voice laced with curiosity. His eyebrows raised as his eyes searched for answers in yours.

“Oh darling, I’m a walking unsolved mystery. Yer wanna find out? Yer gotta dig deep into the layers of this earth. Yer wanna solve me still?”

“Yeah, I do.” The short, purple haired spoke up. (You forgot his name.)

“Oh then, put on a raincoat. This year’s theme is bloody halloween. Wouldn’t want blood staining yer expensive suits.” You stuck out your tongue, making a move as sirens filled the quiet warehouse.

‘Roppongi, Don Quijote, 31st October, 9 P.M. Be there or else you owe me candy.’ The boys chuckled, making a run as the police broke in.

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shespeaksinsongs · 3 years

Text

Baby Daddy, An Enchanting Play

A/N: Not so sure what this is, but I like it! Enjoy! <3

Summary: Y/N, Pansy, and Daphne perform their moving play for an acting class they'd enrolled in, along with Blaise, Draco, and Theo.

Warnings/content: Mentions of deadbeat baby daddies, Fem!Reader, implied Slytherin!Reader, lousy acting

Word count: 1.14k words

"Oh, Jack, how your eyes... de-ceive me." Theo squinted at the lines he'd written on his hand, having said "deceive" wrong.

Blaise, Theo's boyfriend, only nodded and effortlessly said his lines. "But, Greg! You seem to forget I can't deceive you, for I am cursed only to tell you the truth. And with that, I shall be damned for eternity." Blaise said, looking into the distance dramatically.

"I'm a rock. I am also a mineral." Draco said from the corner of the stage, his eyes empty of passion for their performance. On his shirt pocket was a tiny piece of paper that read "ROCK" in red letters.

Moments passed by before people realized the play was over, and slow claps scattered around the classroom.

"Guys, while I will admit, that was an... interesting play, when I said each person must have two lines, that's not what I meant. So you'll be getting points off for that." The teacher said sternly, calling the next group to perform the student-written play.

Y/N, Daphne, and Pansy got up, ready to perform. On their way there, Draco stopped Y/N, causing her to tilt her head. "Be careful up there; she's a harsh grader."

"Your concern is cute." Y/N said quickly, patting Draco on the back and following her friends back onto the elevated platform.

As always in Acting class, an extracurricular that the gang had collectively decided to take, Y/N opened up the production. "Oh boy, how will we ever beat that?" Y/N sarcastically said, eyes widening, smiling smugly at Blaise's glare. "Our play is called "Baby Daddy." We worked really hard on it, so we hope you enjoy it." The name earnt snickers from the room, which Y/N didn't mind. In actuality, the girls saw the Acting class as more of a joke than anything else.

"Woo!" Draco cheered as Theo whistled, prompting Blaise to catcall an "Ow!".

"You couldn't even call me?" Daphne screamed at Y/N, although their new names were "Melissa" and "Ben," respectively.

"I didn't think it was that big of a deal, man." Y/N said, lowering her voice to match that of a man. The way she moved, sort of like a snake, caused Draco to laugh to himself, leaving him wondering if she was mocking him.

"Not that big of a deal? You're telling me you've been incarcerated for two years, leaving me to pay for our kid,"

"Ah." Pansy said, sitting on the ground, only sticking her thumb out of her mouth to speak.

"and you couldn't even tell me that you'd been out of jail for three months? I need you, Ben. Your daughter needs you. This family... we need you." Daphne said, sighing sadly.

"Mel," Y/N said, reaching an arm out to touch her baby mommy.

"Don't you "Mel" me! I have had to go to homeless shelters for the past few months, barely making enough to survive on, and you waltz in, acting like you own the place. You're disgusting. Were you even gonna tell me? That you were free?" Daphne said, pulling up her best acting skills for this next part.

"Of course I was, Melissa. I just needed some time to get on my feet, you know?" Y/N had said this last part so low that the walls of her throat rubbed upon each other, causing her to cough tremendously. This made her peers laugh, so she didn't mind it. She looked briefly into the audience, and Draco was still trying to contain his laughter, tears almost spilling out of his eyes. "Besides, can't babies go longer without food or something?" Y/N scratched her head, trying to look as stupid as possible.

"That's newborns," Daphne snarled. "Nora is two years old. She's a toddler. Merlin, are you that daft? Did you even remember her name before I said it?"

"Uh, nah, nah, that's cool, Nora's cool. Did you pick it out?" Y/N said, trying not to laugh at the next part. The girls had to rehearse it dozens of times the days before in order not to laugh.

"You idiotic," Daphne fake slapped Y/N, who skillfully made it look and sound real. "useless," Pansy was now crying with laughter, trying her best to make it look like she was just sad that her parents were fighting. Her thumb was still in her mouth, and she was almost biting it from how hard she was smiling. "waste of brain cells!" Daphne said, stomping on Y/N's toes.

Y/N took a moment, not looking Daphne in the eye as she said her following line. "C'mon, babe, it's rough in the big house. By the way, you're hot when you're mad." She smirked, wiggling her eyebrows, which caused Theo to stifle a laugh.

Daphne said nothing but groaned and threw her hands up in frustration, ending the play with an angry and offensive (but family-friendly) pinky finger).

Just like the rest of the plays, a few collected moments of silence went by until Pansy got up and bowed with her girlfriend and best friend Y/N. This time, different from the rest, people erupted into cheers, admiring Y/N's commitment to the male role and Daphne's acting.

Oddly enough, when the three looked over to the side at their teacher, they didn't catch the furious glare they were expecting. Instead, she was crying, muffling a sob with her hand. "I'm sorry, kids, this just reminds me so much of my youth." She said, pressing a hand to her heart and swallowing thickly before continuing. "Great job, you three. Full marks for each of you." The professor said, causing Y/N to look concerned for her, but nonetheless, she was happy. "May I just ask, what was your inspiration for this?"

The girls looked at each other, not knowing what to say. As always, Y/N was the one to speak up. "Oh, we have been very passionate about... deadbeat baby daddies for, uh, years now. It's become a tragedy in today's society." Y/N trailed off, hoping her answer would be sufficient enough to let her instructor let her go back to her seat.

"That is so heart-warming. You three must have hearts of gold." The teacher said, which caused Y/N to beam at Draco annoyingly.

"Heart of gold." Y/N mouthed across the room, laughing slightly when he rolled his eyes.

"In fact, this performance was so moving that," The teacher said, leaving a few seconds of silence in between. "I'm giving everyone full marks. Congratulations to everyone. You can thank these lovely ladies for it." She said, sitting down and throwing all her analyses of each play away.

For the second time, the class erupted into cheers. Only this time, it was a standing ovation. As Y/N, Daphne, and Pansy strutted back to their seats, Y/N laughed to herself, wondering what she did in a past life to be so gifted with luck.

REQUESTS ARE OPEN!

#slytherin!reader #fem!reader #pansy parkinson #blaise zabini #draco malfoy #daphne greengrass #theodore nott #theo nott #hogwarts fanfiction #hogwarts fic #slytherin gang #acting class hogwarts #theo x blaise #pansy x daphne #hlbutterflyoriginal

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jomamaofficial · 3 years

Text

You should have said something: Finale (Bakugou x fem!Reader)

A/N: HELLO BESTIES, IT'S YOUR *lmao I just realised I wrote sentimental here instead of CRUSTY here* CRUSTY TOE HERE. Now please, for the love of whoever's up there, PLEASE READ THE TRIGGER WARNINGS. I'm not going to dawdle along because this was the finale you all were waiting for, so enjoy. Social Media & LinkTree & Discord Server TW: Very gruesome descriptions of: Death, Burning, Heavy cursing, Blood, Abuse. Masterlist Taglist: @spicy-therapist-mom @speedmetalqueen @silentw-lkr @loki-an-idiot @clickbait-official @captainchrisstan @kamalymaly @idk-sam @runrabbitrun3 @power-house-fan12 @mrslawliet @memeingcheetah27 @lonleyweeb77 @midnight-storm Word Count: 1743

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Sirens flooded the scene, police cars blinding passerbys. Ambulances rushed to the location, paramedics pushing their way through the crowd of people, the heat travelling the smell of iron across the streets of Musutafu. Firefighters reached the estate, dragging people away from the hazard, eyes gawking at the uproar of fire. The house was engulfed in flames, crying voices piercing through the ears of those who looked on. Ashes here and ashes there, belongings erupting into soot and red embers.

A body was heaved onto the stretcher, blood staining the white cotton.

“The heart rate is lowering, I repeat the heart rate is lowering.”

The static noise from the walkie talkie was merely another addition to the tumultuous screams and orders.

Wind ran through his hair, panic stricken over the nurse's face who ran as fast as her environment could let her, the heavy but precious, bleeding body straining her arms and staining her hands.

The door was held open, commands being barked at her.

The reporters bombarded her, obstructing the nurse’s view. She shoved past them; her heart hammered in her chest inspecting the monitor, her movements speeding up as she reached her destination. The body was rushed into the ambulance, attached to pipes and machines.

It was the last thing the public saw before the door was shut and the sirens fled away.

Trending headlines and hashtags spread like wildfire.

Masaru switched on the TV, his wife finishing up her dinner in the other room.

“I am now live at the Bakugou-L/N estate. Word from our information team has come out and the fire has been going on for twenty minutes, however these twenty minutes were enough for Prohero Ground Zero to be sent to the emergency room after a local found him covered in burn marks and injuries inside his already smoking house. Prohero Y/HN is nowhere to be found and all forms of contacts have been shut off. I am now handing over to Tanaka-san who is live at the-”

Switched off. Masaru sat there glued to his seat with his fingers pressing on the power button.

Hope came crashing down and you could only stare at the broken screen of your phone, tiny glass particles spewed on the floor.

Your skin was boiling up but your blood ran cold. Your throat dried up but your tears were wet. You couldn’t feel anything but his nails, digging in through the layers of clothing you comforted yourself in.

If you could go back in time, you would have. If you could stop yourself from dialing Izuku’s number, you would have. Anything, anything would have been better than this.

Silence. And you still had the urge to cover your ears. There was nothing to look at apart from your only form of communication. Everything else was black. And the traitorous phone that gave you away was dissipating as well. It faded away from your sight, leaving you a wide smile on your face. Too wide. Stretching from one cheek to the other, your lips were quivering, forcing it to stop. But it didn’t stop. It was getting wider and wider and it was hurting but could you stop it? No.

You couldn’t stop anything. Not this marriage, not this moment, not your own body.

He pulled on your hair and you couldn’t even stop the pain. He crushed your face between his hands, searing pressure building up in your skull and you still couldn’t stop him. He shouted and he screamed and it was slowly seeping into your skull how loud he really was. Nothing would stop. You couldn’t stop it.

You were useless. Your shrieks were useless because he drowned them out with his own voice.

His words were barely comprehensible. You could either focus on the warm blood trickling down your hairline, or him.

But that took energy. And right now, trying to stay alive was sucking all of the energy out of you.

“YOU FUCKING BROKE RULE NUMBER THREE, YOU FUCKING WHORE.”

Rule number three spiked your interest. Not because you remembered what it was. It only drew your attention to him amidst all the repeated curses and the names and the agony, ‘rule number three’ was something new.

Why would you understand rule number three though, you couldn’t even understand why you were smiling, giggling underneath your breath.

“And out of all the people you could have gone to”, he sucked in a breath, squeezing your cheeks. He could feel your clenched teeth fighting against the strength of his hold.

“You fucking went to that useless cunt Deku”, Bakugou spat out, a crazed glint in his eyes as he felt your face shake and crumble under his grip.

“Where is he now huh?” he scoffed, a breathy laugh escaping from the depths of his body.

“WHERE THE FUCK IS THAT PATHETIC BITCH NOW?” Screaming once again, he activated his quirk, missing you by a hair. The flames mocked you, free to move, free to grow.

“Is he gonna come and get you now? See your precious ‘Izu-kun’ anywhere?” he derided, smiling at the blackened area his palms left on your shoulders.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’M SORRY.”

Your tears said it enough, tears that were mixed in with the sweat and blood that dripped from your forehead. All you wanted was someone, someone who would hold you and stroke your head and clean you up. Someone who would take him away from you and let you live in a fantasy where you weren’t wrong anymore.

You apologized in the false anticipation that he would stop, and caress your face and pepper it in small kisses. You apologized in the false anticipation of thinking that’s what he needed all along. Just an apology.

So when he pushed you off of the sofa, your knees igniting in irritantance and bruises, you could only look at him. And when he crouched down in front of you, tilting your chin upwards, your heart almost fluttered at the thought that he would pull you into a kiss. A warm kiss where you would feel at home and feel loved.

The sad part was that you knew that you would forgive him if he kissed you once.

But the worst part was that you knew this would never happen. And it didn’t. But you were happy to live in your delusion. Because your delusion masked the sheer force at which he defiled your body.

The lethal blaze mirrored the lethal blaze that ignited his eyes. And this was the last time you’d ever see such hate, and animosity in them.

With your hands shielding you too late, all you saw was a blinding light shining through you, filling every crevice in your body with a scorching glow. But then it was extinguished by the darkness.

Alarms were going off in your head, telling you to breathe quickly and panic and scream and reach out and find something to see. And you did. And it entertained him.

So small and so vulnerable, scrambling around beneath him to try and escape. But he had you under his grip. And he wasn’t going to let you go until you remained lifeless under him.

Smoke infiltrated your lungs, forcing you to flail and writhe on all fours. You were heaving, trying oh so very hard to breathe in the oxygen that limitlessly surrounded you.

But you were useless. And you couldn’t breathe to save your life.

Coughing and slobbering, kneeling in front of him, you begged.

“Please, forgive me.”

“Please, I’m sorry.”

“Please, I didn’t mean to.”

“PLEASE, MAKE IT STOP. PLEASE JUST MAKE IT STOP.”

The fumes were stabbing at your throat, filling your head with fog.

And your world was running slowly. The noise was slowed, darker and deeper, slurred beyond understanding. The agony was slow; equally as painful, but slow. It gave you little breaks in between to piece everything together, bit by bit.

Growing up, your world was black and white: heroes were benevolent, there to serve the society and protect them whereas villains were malevolent, there to wreck the balance of society and harm them as they pleased.

Growing up, the first people you relied on were heroes. Even as the Number 3 Hero, Y/HN, you relied on your colleagues who worked day and night to ensure the safety of the country you served.

Maybe that was your downfall. Blindly trusting heroes as if they were some sort of untouchable deities who could never harm. Because here you were, taking the last few breaths with your world spinning around you and being snatched away from you.

And it wasn’t at the hands of a villain that you were dying. It was at the hands of your so-called superior, the Number 2 Hero: Ground Zero.

Ground Zero; the hero who everyone respected but feared. His snarl, his anger, his drive. The very hero who was found in every treacherous battlefield. He was the same hero who took on anything he found that threatened the life of the citizens he made his duty to protect from harm's way.

But who would take him on when he caused harm to you?

No one.

It wasn’t the smoke, or the burns, or the bleeding that caused you to take your last breath. It was the realization that no one would save you.

The pulse under Katsuki’s fingers diminished until it was nothing. And he cried. Veins standing out in livid ridges, his eyes seared in rage as they watered and dripped down his face, cooling his body in the circle of fire he put himself in.

If he wasn’t trained to suck his guilt up every time his hands were responsible for someone’s downfall, he would have been consumed in his own self loath…

But what was the point of feeling guilty when you deserved it?

It was because of you Eijiro broke up with him. And he internally promised himself he would always stand by this.

Blinking away his tears, he channeled all the remaining energy he had, letting his anger flow through out of his body.

His wrists were giving in but he swore it was the final time. Just one more blow. One more big blow.

Silencing his cries underneath the deafening roar of his explosions, he clenched his jaw, pressuring his body on and on.

No one would find you now. No one would know.

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euphoriyoongi · 3 years

Text

♥︎ So this is Love ♥︎ k.s.j

A Cinderella Story

Requested by: @baby-mochi123

♥︎ Summary:

As an orphan living with your late fathers disgrace of a wife and two step sisters, you’re hidden away from the world. That is, until the King gets inpatient for grandchildren, and invites all maidens to the royal ball.

♥︎ Genre: royalty au, Cinderella-themed, love at first sight, comedy

♥︎ Word count: 5.6k

♥︎ Warnings: none

m.list

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Once upon a time in a far away land, there was tiny kingdom…

Ever since your father died, life has been rough.

You could barely remember the times you used to play in the grass fields with your mother, or the time you ripped the bottom of your dress as you fell.

Those memories were distant. Nearly gone. Your father remarried after your mother died, and the woman he married was more of a devil than anything. She would act all sweet to you when your father was around, but behind closed doors she disgraced and belittled you.

When your father passed away, she became more evil than before, which was hard to imagine. She was already so terrifying, but now it seemed as though she had something against you.

You were fully grown now, able to do everything for yourself. But yet, you were forced to like in a crammed attic of their home, while your two step sisters enjoyed lavish rooms and jewelry. It was unfair, but you made yourself worth living. With all of the chores and the dust and dirt you'd have to clean up every day, you still had your pride.

You lived in solidarity up and away from the vicious people you could never call family, and the only friends you could call your own were the rats that populated the walls.

The terribly loud clock broke you away from your slumber and bells began to ding, signaling it was time to make breakfast. They forced to go serve them as they lay in bed, and all you wanted was to be able to eat what you made. There would only ever be enough for the three of them and their cat—which was fittingly named Lucifer—and never any for you. That was probably why you were so thin.

"Y/n!!" Your stepmother's voice bellowed through the walls continuously, hailing you to begin her breakfast. She always yelled like she was going to starve if you didn't get it to her in time which wasn't true. She was bigger-boned and had plenty of meat on her bones, and always concealed it with a super tight corset that she would claim her real waist.

"Y/n?! Where's breakfast?" Your step sister screeched at you from her bedroom as you walked by. You ignored her and continued to walk to the kitchen. "Hey! Don't ignore me! Mother, Y/N is ignoring me again!"

You continued to walk to the kitchen and once you got there you began to prepare breakfast. You scrambled up the food and poured tea, and then placed it on 3 plates to bring to them.

As you brought them all their breakfast, your stepmother beckoned you to come into her room. Before you entered, your two ugly step sisters blocked the door. "You're gonna get it bad, Y/N."

You brushed them off again and made your way through the double doors or your stepmother's room, the cat following you in.

The cat glided it's way through the dark room and jumped onto the large bed, curling up into the arms of a dark looking figure. She didn't speak.

"Stepmother—"

"Shut it." She hissed as she pet her cat, who was as dark as the room. His eyes were the only visible part of him. "Seems like you have a lot of time on your hands. Let's put it to good use."

You stayed silent and listened to what she had to say. You knew it was going to be chores, and you just wished you could have some alone time to yourself.

"You have full chore duty today. That includes folding the laundry, washing dishes, scrubbing to floors, sewing your step sisters' dresses and oh—don't forget the garden."

You sighed. "Yes Step-mother."

You had no way out of it. It was all you could do to respect your father.

You could've swore you saw the cat smirk. "Oh yes, one more thing. Don't forget to bathe the cat."

Over the hill was the large grandeur of a palace, where the king and his son lived.

The king was getting impatient, wondering when his son would give him grandchildren. He wasn't getting any younger, and wished to see children before he passed.

Kim Seokjin, the only prince of the kingdom, hasn't even had the thought of settling down yet. He wasn't as young as he used to be, but he thought no one could be his match. The prince was away on business, but was coming home tonight.

His father decided to send out invitations to every eligible maiden in the kingdom to a royal ball, hoping at least one of them will catch his eye.

So it wouldn't seem suspicious, he figured he could plan this ball for his return, and have all the women there for him.

Tonight was the night he planned for the ball. He then sent out all the invitations, hoping for the best.

As you were scrubbing the floor, a thin piece of paper slid through the mail slot on the door and landed right at your feet. You picked it up and didn't bother reading it, you weren't the best at reading anyway. You did notice it was from the palace.

Your step family was upstairs as they were practicing their music skills and you walked up the stairs to interrupt.

You knocked softly, but your step mother screamed as you entered. "Y/n! What did I say about interrupting—"

"This just came from the palace!" You excitedly murmured, and held your hand out for your step mother to grab it.

"There's to be a ball...every eligible maiden is to attend!" She cried out and looked to her daughter's who were jumping up and down.

"We're both eligible!!" They screamed simultaneously, happily shaking the floorboards.

Your eyes lit up when you heard what she said. "That means I can go, too!" You said, covering your mouth with your hand in excitement.

One of your step sisters snickered. "Yeah, right! Her dancing with our prince! That's impossible.

"Greetings your highness, would you mind holding my broom." The other sister giggled as she mocked you.

After their laughs ended, you spoke up again. "Well, why not? I am part of the family. And it says by royal command..."

The sisters looked at each other and then at their mom. "Well...I can't see why you couldn't go..." she stared down at the piece of paper. "If you get all your work done and find something suitable to wear.."

"Yes step mother I sure will!" You smiled as you made your way out. "Thank you."

You ran as fast as you could up the steps to plan your outfit, knowing you have your mothers old dress locked away in a chest.

You noticed it was a bit outdated, so you looked through your sewing book to see any changes you could make to it.

Just as you finally thought you reached happiness it faded away just as quickly as it happened. You were beckoned again to start your chores and now you wouldn't have nearly enough time to sew the dress.

As you worked your ass off to clean and get things done, time flew. You thought you didn't have a change at going to the ball now, especially when you heard the carriage reach the chateau. You sighed. As if your day couldn't get any worse. Your step mother opened her door when she heard you walk by. "Y/nN my dear, why aren't you dressed?"

Your two step sisters peaked out of the doorframe, awaiting your answer. "Ah, I'm not going."

They all smirked, but tried to cover it. "That's too bad. Maybe next time." She cooed and shut the door to get her daughters ready.

You made your way back up to your humble living space, and your shoulders were hunched as you walked up the stairs. You really thought you had a chance for yourself this time. You hated being someone's maid, and you wished things would be different. You had hoped this was the chance to break out of your shell and this house and follow your dreams. Dreams of meeting your one and only true love.

As you entered your room you peered out the window, staining at the tree branches that blocked the moonlight. You sighed, deep in thought.

A sudden creek came from your closet, and the door began to open slowly. You nearly screeched when you saw a dozen rats run out of it, but when your eyes landed on the gorgeous dress that was hung up, you glanced at the little rodents.

"How the hell did you do that? Was that some kind of sorcery?" You stared at the dress with wide eyes, trying to figure out how tiny rats were able to stitch and sew. Maybe you were going crazy. "Thank you..I guess." You said sincerely, but still couldn't wrap your mind around it all.

You rushed to get ready and tossed on all your accessories, including a beautiful jade necklace that sat on the corner of your desk. You were unsure about how it got there, but figured it was the rats with superpowers and carried on with your plans.

You rushed down the stairs as you noticed that they were about to open the door to leave. "Wait for me!" You yelled as you ran, hoping they wouldn't give you any trouble. "I'm ready."

"Mother you can't let her go! It's not fair!" The ugliest sister growled as she tossed her hands in the air.

The other sister huffed and crossed her arms over her chest. "This is disgraceful!"

"Now girls...a promise is a promise." Your step mother smirked as she neared you, reaching a hand out to cradle your jade necklace. "Isn't this beautiful, what do you think—"

"No it's ugly—wait! That's my necklace! She stole it!" She hissed reaching out towards it. "Gimme that!" As she grabbed onto it she yanked it, and the necklace broke, sending all the beads to dance across the floor.

You gasped as that happened, and the other sister barely gave you enough time to get a grip when she began to tear your dress from bottom to top. They both aggressively tried to tear it apart, not a care in the world about how you felt about it. It was your mothers dress after all, and now all that's left is the torn fabric that fell from your shoulder.

"Girls, girls. Let's not be too hasty. I don't want you upsetting yourselves." Your stepmother softly spoke, side-eying you as if she didn't see the whole debacle. "Let's go, we'll be late." She said, leaving you all alone in the large empty house, torn to pieces.

You couldn't help but start to cry. You tried your best to be able to go, even trusted rats to fix up your dress. But now your dress was ruined and you were crying, subconsciously finding yourself in the garden under your favorite willow tree.

"It's just no use at all.." you cried out as you laid your head down onto the bench, kneeling. "There's nothing left to believe in anymore."

You let your tears fall, completely oblivious to the bench that somehow turned into the lap of a man. His hand softly stroke your head, listening to you cry.

"Nothing? You don't really mean that, right?" His soothing voice spoke out, and you'd think it would've broke you out of your funk, but it didn't. You still sat there with your head in his lap and cried.

"Yeah, I do mean that—"

"No you don't, or I wouldn't be here." He shrugged and you finally realized something wasn't normal. You sat yourself back and gasped at the boy in front of you. He had dazzling blue hair and eyes to match, with a beautiful pink gown on. He looked very feminine and approachable. Sparkles danced around his figure and he held something that looked like a wand in his right hand.

"Wha—" you rubbed your eyes, trying to understand was was in front of you. First it was artsy rats, now...a fairy?!

He reached around your arms and slowly lifted you up. "Okay, you definitely can't go to the ball looking like...that." He clicked his tongue and shook his head. "We have to hurry."

He glanced around, almost as if he was trying to find something. "Now what did I do with that damn wand, I swear I lose it every time.."

Your eyes widened. "Wand? Then you must be—"

"Your fairy godfather—god that's so strange to say. How bout your god-daddy" he shook his head as he covered his mouth. "Wait no that sounds to provocative. Just call me Jimin." He smiled, and then continued to look for his wand.

You glanced at his right hand, which held a long stick-like thing. "Uh...is that it? In your hand?"

"Now who do you take me for? Im not that dumb I—wait, you're right. I guess I am that dumb." He scratched his head in embarrassment and shook it off. "Okay. I say the first thing you need is a pumpkin."

"A..pumpkin?" You questioned, glancing over at the pumpkin patch that was part of the garden.

"Yes. Now what we're the magic words?" He wondered out loud, scratching his chin. "Ah! Bippity boppity boo bitch!"

And just as ridiculous as the magic words were, a grand carriage blossomed from the pumpkin. You were at a loss for words as you glanced from the carriage to Jimin, shaking your head in astonishment. "How'd you do that?"

He smiled. "Magic, I guess." He said not too confidently, looking from you to the little rats around your feet. "Now you need horses."

You looked down and the rats and giggled. You could've sworn you were in a fever dream right now. How was all of this possible?

With the flick of his wrist, Jimin turned the cute little rats into large white horses, standing high and mighty as they were ready to pull the carriage.

You didn't even take notice to an actual horse that stood next to Jimin, patiently waiting to have his turn with magic. "Now you need a coachman.." he muttered and waved his wand at the horse, transforming it into a human man. He sat at the reins of the horses, ready to go.

"Okay what the hell is going on here?" You blinked frantically as you tried to understand what was happening in front of you. How could such a gorgeous man be a fairy, and how could said gorgeous man turn a horse into a person?

Maybe you were high or something.

"Aha. Now, it's your turn." He turned to you with his wand and winked. He looked you up and down and bit his lip, then looked into your eyes. "You're super hot and all, but that dress is a no no."

He waved his wand up to the sky and did a little twirl, and you couldn't help but chuckle at how ridiculous he looked. But all of a sudden a large wave of sparkles encased your body, spiraling around you with high speed. You looked down in confusion, then when it all stopped, what was left was a beautiful silvery-blue dress that sparkled as much as the stars.

"Woah..." you breathed, spinning around in it. It was absolutely stunning, you didn't even want to question how he did it. He then fixed up your hair and makeup, and last but not least, your shoes.

You had a weird shoe size. It was a bit too small for your body, so most of the time it was hard to find ones that fit. So when Jimin magically put sparkling glass heels onto you, you gasped in disbelief.

They sparkled even more than the dress, but all in all you sparkled more than the night sky. "This is like a dream.." you murmured in awe.

"Okay, I'm done." He chuckled, crossing his hands across his chest. "Just one more thing."

"What is it?" You asked him, on edge to go to the palace.

"This is all a façade, okay? Just like all dreams, it won't last forever." He looked into your eyes. "It won't last after midnight. Everything will go back to how it was before."

You nodded. At least that gave you enough time to try to meet the prince. "Okay. I'll be out of the palace before that."

He nodded, then gasped and it nearly scared you. "Okay, you gotta go or you'll be late."

He shooed you into the carriage and as you sat down, the horses that were once rats took off, leaving Jimin in the dust. When you looked back you noticed his little wave, then all of a sudden he disappeared into thin air, making this whole situation even weirder.

When you approached the castle, you noticed how grand it was. With it standing so tall it looked like it hit the clouds, and the beautiful stones that held it all together. This was a dream in life itself that sadly had to end, but you were going to make the most of it.

Currently inside the palace, the king organized all of the women to be introduced to the prince one by one. But everytime a promising woman would walk up, it was almost as if he would yawn at the sight of them.

The prince stood tall in the great hall, barely giving any women a second glance. He didn't want any of them, and just wanted to find someone himself. His father and the arch duke sat up high on the balcony, looking down on the scene. Seokjin looked up, noticing how aggravated his father looked.

You approached the grand steps to enter the ballroom, the sides lined with guards. You looked over at them when you noticed they were looking at you, and continued your walk up a hundred red-velvet covered stairs.

Your step sisters were currently being introduced, you took notice to that as you walked into the room. The far side wall was open, leaving only the beautiful night sky to be viewed. What you didn't take notice of was that the prince stopped in his tracks and was standing at you wide eyed.

Seokjin couldn't help himself. The two girls that were in front of him were such a bore. When he bowed respectfully to them and straightened up he noticed you, where you were directly in his line of vision with the dark sky surrounding you, making it seem like you were sparkling.

He had to meet you. The way you spun around to music that wasn't even being played or the way he just glanced at you once and could've sworn he fell in love, he knew he had to at least know your name.

He pushed past the two sisters and stepped toward you, determined to make you his bride.

He reached out a hand towards your shoulder. "Hello, miss?" Jin said politely, his dark hair pushed up to reveal his forehead. "How come I don't know who you are?"

His father took notice to his interest, and hurriedly signaled the band to play the waltz.

When the music ran through the room, you didn't even have time to answer him. He was breathtakingly beautiful, almost like a prince. Little did you know that he was one.

"Would you like to dance with me?" He asked you and held onto you hand, raising it to kiss the back of it.

You shivered in delight, knowing you fell for him at first sight. It seemed like he did, too. So much for marrying a prince, you didn't care who this guy was at this moment. "I'd love to."

He held your hand as you both made your way to the center of the ballroom, watching all of the women cry in disbelief.

He slid his hands down to your waist and you held your hands onto his shoulders. You moved in sync, your lips just a few inches away from his. His eyes were stunningly dark and mysterious with hair to match. His lips were plump, almost pillow-like and you wondered how they would feel against yours.

You couldn't get enough of him, you were lost in him. In his touch, in his eyes, in his heart. He was also captivated by you and had no doubt you were the one out of all these women.

"Who is she, mother? I've never seen her before." The step sister asked as she tried to get a good look of you from the crowd.

"We'll Ive never—wait a minute...something is familiar about her." Your stepmother wondered, but before she could get a good look, they moved their way out onto the terrace, now all alone without anyone watching.

After the dance was over he held you in his arms, brushing a stray strand away from your face. He smiled at you when he noticed your blush.

He grabbed your hand, holding onto it tightly as he took you into the garden, both of you in bliss.

You both sat down on the edge of a large fountain, not taking notice to the clock behind it. It was nearing midnight, but you were so lost in his charm that you didn't even pay attention.

He sat next you you closely, and looked from your eyes to your lips. "You're beautiful. I hope you know that." He said to you as he leaned in farther. "So, so beautiful."

His lips grazed yours softly, but before it could turn into a kiss, the clock struck twelve behind you, bellowing a loud noise. You whipped your head around and noticed the time. "Oh my god!"

You stood up abruptly, and his hand that was on your thigh flew up as you stood. "What's wrong?" He wondered with worry, noticing how frantic you were.

"It's midnight!" You cried, holding onto your dress like it was going to disappear.

"Yeah..so.." he trailed off, hoping that this night would go farther.

You shook your head and turned to leave. "I have to go." You said sadly, but his hand grabbed yours before you could run off.

"You can't leave now—"

"I have to!" You said as you looked frantically back and forth, hoping nothing would disappear right now.

"But why?" He asked softly. He didn't want you to leave. He had so much more he wanted to say to you, he didn't even know your name.

You had to make up an excuse. "I—uh...the prince! I haven't met the prince yet!" You said and nodded. "Yeah, that's right."

"The..prince?" He asked. Didn't she know it was him? "But didn't you know that I—"

The clock bellowed again, sending you hurriedly looking for the way out. "Goodbye!" You said and bowed, and ran off back into the palace to find your way down those beautiful velvet steps.

"Wait! I don't even know your..." he trailed off as he ran after you. "Name.."

Before he could catch you, all the women blocked his leave and surrounded him, all blabbing something he wasn't paying attention to. All he saw was the beautiful girl he fell in love with run down the stairs, only leaving a glass heel behind.

You ran out of the palace and jumped into your carriage which was thankfully still intact. It rode off and it started to slowly change.

The carriage began to soften like how it was before and transitioned into a large pumpkin, and the horses morphed back into the small rats they once were. Everything was a blur and all of a sudden you fell to the ground with a thud, picking yourself up and scurried with the animals to hide in the forest as the palace guards ran straight, smashing the pumpkin that was once a carriage.

It was quiet now, you stared down at your tattered dress. The cute little rats stood by your feet, trying to get you to notice that you still had one glass slipper. It didn't disappear with the rest of it.

That was all you had left of that night, and you went back home holding it tightly, dreaming about the man you nearly kissed.

The next morning the prince paced back and forth in his room, trying to figure out a way to find her.

Seokjin was never like this. He was always calm and collected, but something ticked in his mind when he met you. He needed to find a way to get you back into his arms. He didn't even get to kiss you.

He held the heel you left behind in his hand and came up with a great idea. He needed to have this heel reach every maiden's household to see if it fit. The problem is, it could fit any number of the girls. He’d just have to wish for the best. His father would never let him out of the palace to do it himself though.

The grand duke was willing. After figuring out the plans, the duke took off to find the girl of the prince's dreams.

“Y/N!” Your stepmother cried out angrily. “Where are you?” She paced up the stairs but stopped as soon as she heard you.

“I’m right here.” She spoke out as you exited one of the rooms downstairs. She always seemed to rush you even if you were doing a great job.

“Where are the girls?” The looked anywhere but you as she asked this, only ever worrying about her own daughters.

You set down the broom you had in your hand and sighed. “They’re still sleeping.”

She rushed up the steps in anxiousness and you wondered what was the matter. You walked into the kitchen and grabbed the tea for them quickly and ran upstairs, only to overhear their conversation.

“What’s wrong, mother?” Both the sisters were in the same room, both tired and yawning up a storm.

“He’ll be here any minute!” She rushed, pulling back the curtains to bring light inside the room.

“Who?” They asked simultaneously with a yawn.

“The grand duke. He’s been hunting all night.” She rooted through her daughter’s wardrobe. “For that girl! The one that lost her slipper at the ball last night. Apparently he’s madly in love with her.”

“The duke?” One of them asked, only to be interrupted loudly.

You walked into the doorway at this moment, looking back and forth at the sisters and your stepmother.

“No, the prince!”

You stopped in your tracks. So that man you met—the man you nearly kissed—was the prince?

You gasped. “The prince?” The glass teapot that was in your hands slipped through your fingers, sending shards all over the floor.

“You clumsy fool! Clean that up!”

You couldn’t even pay attention or acknowledge the fact that you were spoken to. The only thing you did was slowly fall to the floor and clean it it without paying close attention. You couldn’t believe it. You…met the prince?

“Why are you telling us this then? If he’s so in love with that other girl?”

Your stepmother side glanced you and continued to root through the wardrobe. “Because not even the prince knows who she is. The glass slipper is the only clue. So one of you must fit into it.”

You glanced up as you cleaned the mess, listening intently to what was going on. “The grand duke was ordered to try it on every maiden in the kingdom. If the shoe fits, that girl will be the prince’s bride by order of the king!”

“Bride?” You whispered in shock, still unable to wrap this around your head.

As the sisters clashed together in search for clothing you saw yourself out, blissfully dancing to the door to your room.

Your stepmother watched you as you swayed, and she narrowed her eyes. Something was certainly fishy about you, and she didn’t have the time to let you become someone better than her daughters. She sneaked up the stairs and peaked through the door, watching you as you sang lovingly in the mirror.

You coughed of glimpse of her in the corner of your eye and turned around, only to see her slide the key into her pocket and lock the door, slamming it.

“No no no!” You cried out, running to the door. “You can’t leave me in here!” You banged on it with your fists as hard as you can, only to hear her footsteps slowly disappear.

You set your back against the door and slid down to the floor. How were you supposed to meet the prince now? How would he ever find you?

You lost all your hope. When you heard the trumpets sound that the duke was here, your heart dropped to your stomach. You let a few tears fall, upset that no one here would even care enough about you. It spoke a thousand words when your step mother locked the door on you, not caring if you needed anything, or to be happy for you if it was your slipper.

The duke came into the house and glanced down at the two sisters who definitely weren’t the prince’s cup of tea. He still had to do his job anyway. He read out the decree and told the older sister to sit down first to try it on. When the glass slipper seemed like it fit like a glove he stood back in awe, that is, until she lifted her foot up and it was only covering half of it.

Meanwhile, the magic rats were up to something. The smallest one was able to gently slide into your stepmother’s pocket. The others stood by and were able to reach it when the small rat lifted it up. They hurriedly rushed the key up the stairs, but it was a bit heavy for them. This was going to take a while.

The duke sighed and shook his head. “Let’s try the next young lady.”

The next sister tried to forcibly squeeze her way into it. She kept complaining that her foot was just swollen today and kept trying. The duke sat there with a frown, knowing that it wasn’t either of these girls. “Are you sure there isn’t another maiden in this household?” He asked you stepmother, grabbing onto the heel and keeping it safe.

The rats were tired, but were able to reach the top of the steps. Now it was time for you to shine.

“No, there’s no one else here—“

“Your grace! Wait!” You cried and rushed down the grand steps of the chateau. “May I try it on?”

The duke’s eyes widened as he took notice to your appearance and smiled. He signaled his servant forward as you reached the bottom of the stairwell.

Your stepmother rolled her eyes. “Don’t pay attention to her.”

“She’s just y/n! A nobody!”

“Madam.” He stood sternly next to your stepmother. “My orders were every maiden. Now if you would excuse me.”

He motioned you to sit down in the chair and beckoned his servant to bring the glass slipper towards you. As he came closer, your stepmother stuck her foot out, only to come to the servant tripping, which sent the glass slipper flying through the air until it smashed right before your feet.

You weren’t too worried about it—since you had the other slipper—but the duke nearly cried and he tried to piece it together. “No no no, this is terrible!” He cried out. “What could we do?”

You smiled at him and then glanced to your stepmother, who was smirking. You always new she was no good for you. But now you were done. “Perhaps..if it would help?” You slid the other slipper out from behind you. “The other slipper?”

He gasped and grabbed ahold of it excitedly. He reached down to slide it onto your foot, and when it fit, he breathed a sigh of relief. The prince could finally be happy.

Bells chimed and people cried out as you rushed down the stairs of the palace in your grand wedding Dress, holding onto Seokjin’s hand tightly with a smile. This was a dream come true. A fairy tale. Everything worked out for you at the end of it.

Here you were in the back of a carriage taking you both somewhere for alone time, but you couldn’t help but blush as his hands cradled your face. “I’m so glad I found you, y/n.”

You stared lovingly into his eyes, glancing down at his lips slightly. “I’m so glad you wanted to find me, Seokjin.”

He stared at you like no one has ever before. He looked at you with such intent it nearly made you melt. His eyes glanced from your eyes to your lips and once again he leaned it for a kiss, this time actually happening.

His lips softly touched yours, slowly moving into you as his hands cradled your face like you were glass. You wrapped your arms around his neck to deepen this kiss, so in love with each other.

All this struggle, and now here you were in each others arms, happily in love and wishing it would never end.

And they lived happily ever after.

#bts #bangtan sonyeondan #bts fanfic #bts jin #kim seokjin #cinderella #bts post #bts one shot #jin x reader #park jimin

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shoutogepi · 3 years

Text

Midnight Masquerade

Todoroki Shouto & Shinsou Hitoshi

word count : 8.6k

[ ✘ (nsfw 18+) ]

themes : DUBCON, YANDERE. MFM threesome, vampire!todoroki, vampire!shinsou, spanking, praise kink??... double penetration, blood play (hello they’re vampires)

bio : You attend a masquerade ball in hopes of finding a bachelor on Halloween night… only to get much more than you originally bargained for.

author’s note : This fic was inspired by one of my fav movies when I was younger! Van Helsing with Hugh Jackman (2004), in which Dracula hosts an exquisite masquerade ball, full of masked vampires.

side note : Happy Halloween!! I didn’t have time to edit/beta this fic, so it may be a little choppy/rough.. but I’m about to leave for my Halloween party and I wanted to get this out on time so!! please try to enjoy, and I apologize if this is not up to my usual standards. <3

─── ・°* ﾟ✧:* • ｡ﾟ:*･☽･*: ｡ﾟ•*:✧ ﾟ*°・ ───

🅈ou received an invitation to a Halloween party… and that was about all the information you had to go off of. What awaited you at this gathering, you had absolutely no idea. The envelope had simply arrived on your doorstep at the beginning of the month, no messenger in sight.

This invitation, scrawled in perfect calligraphy and sealed with the kiss of a stamp upon wax, proved to be even more puzzling when you attempted to uncover its origin. And while you had asked around to anyone you could possibly think of— your friends, family, neighbors, hell, even your mailman— you found no one who could give you any answers. It seemed that you, for some reason, had been issued this invitation, when no one in your primary social network else had.

What was even more peculiar, was that a gown and a pair of heels had arrived two weeks later, in all senses more luxurious than you had ever seen, and tailored to your exact size and measurements. Just from lifting it out of the box, you could tell it was expensive. And as if that hadn’t been enough of a gift, a necklace and earrings that dazzled nearly enough to blind you arrived just a few days following the dress. Finally a last package arrived a few days before the party, containing an intricately-painted mask that tied the whole outfit together. Each of the gifts had a card laid across the top of the tissue-enfolded contents, signed off from your inviter and now confirmed “secret admirer, S.H.”

The enigma of it all perplexed you. You liked to tell yourself that a smart girl like you would never go to such an event, considering you had no clue who had sent you the invitation, let alone such extravagant gifts. You told yourself that you had no obligation to go, that it would be ill-advised to show up without any further information than the address, date, and time.

But someone had clearly gone to great lengths to impress you, and you couldn’t just ignore that. Curiosity burned bright inside you when raked your brain for potential inviters, and as you came to more and more dead ends, your intrigue grew with every second the event stayed on your mind.

You spent every day leading up to the party thinking about it, flipping back and forth as to if you were going to attend or not. Even on the night of, you spent a ridiculous amount of time switching between deciding on going or staying home, taking short bursts of either frantically getting yourself ready, or sitting down and scrutinizing the situation.

You ended up arriving at the address scrawled at the bottom of the mysterious invitation an hour late.

Although you had planned to just hail a cab thanks to your indecision, you were surprised to find a sleek, black Rolls Royce waiting for you at the entrance to your building. The driver, donned in a crisp black and white tux, sported an elegant mask across his face, and wordlessly opened the door for you, bowing and gesturing for you to enter. After a moment of hesitance, you decided it would probably be best to just get into the car— whoever had requested your presence had already gone to such lengths as to cloth and bejewel you— it only made sense for you to arrive in a vehicle that screamed as much wealth as did your outfit.

What you had not expected was to find the location of the event to be a rather estately manor at the border of the city. The driveway twisted through an ominous wood to reach the massive home, and rather nastily-spiked wrought-iron fences guarded the border of the property, looming metal casting eerie shadows against the overcast evening sky. You found yourself wondering briefly what exact purpose the metal lattice served— both sides adorned with rough silver spikes. Traditionally gates were meant to keep things from getting in… it was peculiar to you that they were double-sided.

It was certainly curious, but your eyes were quickly torn from the gates as the car ventured closer to the maleficent abode, your heartbeat beginning to pick up as you came nearer to the grand entrance. There was a gorgeous fountain laid between two sets of curved stone staircases, both leading up to the tall, mahogany doors at the dead center of the manor. The car came to a stop just before the fountain, and you spent the small moment your driver took crossing over to your side and opening your door in breathless anticipation.

The cool, dry October air felt heavenly against your exposed shoulders, the tops of your breasts just peeking out of the neck of the beautiful, sleek gown you’d been sent. The autumn chill did wonders to calm the thumping of your nervous heart, and as you climbed the stairs, your fingers trailing along the cold balustrade, you took a deep breath. When you chanced a look back toward the car, you found it had already disappeared, and a pang of uncertainty rang through you once more. Yes, this was definitely uncharastically brash of you— you still had no idea who could possibly be the one to invite you to such a prestigious soiree— and yet, you found your nerves crackling with excitement, barely able to contain your jittery disposition.

Two more men, also hidden beneath tuxedos and blank masks, bowed as they pulled the heavy wooden doors apart, revealing the bustling affair that lay inside. You were shocked to find so many bodies within just the first glance of the interior— it was a magnificent foyer that was ten times larger than the tiny apartment you had become so accustomed to, a sea of masked party-goers that ebbed and flowed with the live, string-quartet on the stage in the far corner of the room. Countless couples waltzed and spun across the middle of the room underneath humongous crystal chandeliers, all glittering and shining with the low lighting of a thousand candles, by far more fire hazards than you’d ever seen. It was quite a culture shock to you— you had never before been invited into the fruits of such luxury, this level of wealth as mysterious to you as the cryptic sender of your invitation, S.H.

And though this was your first time indulging in the pleasures of such extravagance, you looked like you belonged. You were sure that the outfit this mystery persona had given you to wear tonight was worth far more than the rent you constantly worried about making, and so you fit in quite seamlessly with the crowd of silk-enveloped, gem-encrusted faces, perhaps even going so far as to stand out. The soft silk of your pashmina tickled against your arms as it sat snug around your lower back, curled around your elbows and seams brushing against your hips. The thick necklace— more of a collar, really— sat heavy against your chest, each diamond shining brightly, leading to a large teardrop-shaped pendant of brilliant amethyst that hung perfectly in the middle of your chest. The ornate mask you’d been given concealed the top half of your face, bright ruby gems adorning along your eyes and matching your dress’ deep rouge to an impossibly perfect degree. Initially upon receiving such gifts you were suspicious of their authenticity, but standing now before such a display of affluence, you were certain they were real. The jewels and fine linens gave you a false sense of confidence, and after a moment of absorbing your astounding surroundings, you tentatively began to make your way into the party.

For a while you wandered around by your lonesome, but you didn’t really mind the solitude. It was a refreshing change of pace, and you admired each symbol of wealth you came across. The grand room was decorated with no expenses in mind— rich velvet curtains hung across the walls, tied back with gold corded tassels to allow the cold moon’s luminescence to shine down into the hall. Massive oil portraits lined the walls, each frame depicting a different person of undoubtable esteem, each in their own respect poised yet handsome as the last.

Your eyes wandered to the last two photos on the wall, both of them shockingly attractive in their own ways. One had wild, violet locks and a sultry smirk, the others’ hair split down the middle with tousled red and white, mouth set in an indifferent line. What stood out most to you was the emotion conveyed in both their eyes— it was cold and callous, sending shivers down your spine.

As you turned away from the portraits, you were met with a server, who offered you the silver platter he was carrying as he bowed. Tiny steak tartares, garnished with a red wine sauce and a sprig of herbs; the sight made your mouth water and you thanked him as you took one with the classy little fork he handed to you. Just as you turned your attention back to the portraits before you, you jumped at the discovery of a figure standing beside you.

He was tall, your head coming just above his shoulder, even in your four inch heels. He donned a crisp tuxedo of his own, but his bowtie was left undone, strips of fabric hanging loosely around his neck. Though there was a mask covering his face as well, you instantly recognized the purple flumes of hair, your surprise evident as you let out a small gasp. He didn’t seem to notice you, his eyes set on the frames above your line of sight, but he then began to speak, his deliciously deep voice taking you again by surprise. “Rather rare,” he spoke, quiet yet clear, eyes still scrutinizing the art before the pair of you.

“E-Excuse me?” you asked for clarity, wondering when exactly this man had appeared, and why you had not noticed such a captivating presence by your side.

At the sound of your voice, he turned his gaze to you, lazy violet eyes inspecting your figure without much attempt at concealing his blatant inspection. You bristled at his audacity, but soon found yourself relaxing as your own eyes wandered the length of his lithe, cut figure. It wasn’t your fault, you reasoned— you had just been admiring this man in his photo and now he appeared before you, looking even more delectable in person.

“The hors d'oeuvres,” he explained, eyes dropping to the forgotten disc of tender meat perched at the end of your fork. He let his gaze wander across your chest before he met your stare again, that same smirk coming to rest on his supple lips. “And such beauty as yours, of course. It’s unparalleled, Miss…?” he trailed off, angling his head to the side as he awaited your response.

You thanked him and told him your name, watching as his smirk only seemed to grow, something mischievous shimmering in those enticing amethyst orbs of his. He leaned forward and ducked into a slight bow, long fingers taking your free hand hostage as he brushed his lips against your knuckles.

“Shinsou will do, for now. Delighted to be acquainted,” he murmured as he pulled back, letting your hand drop and a brief silence fall on the pair of you.

Your eyes wandered to the portrait, then back to your new acquaintance. “That’s you, right?” You inquired, looking up at him through your mask. His bored eyes pierced yours as you met his gaze, and you felt heat accumulate in your cheeks. “What incredible artwork, I don’t think I’ve met anyone that’s posed for an oil painting— was it hard to sit still while it was being made?”

“Not at all,” he replied, taking a sip of the hammered-metal chalice in his large, gloved hand. “The fruits of life sweeten with patience, anyway.”

You wondered briefly if it was his first time posing for this kind of painting. Never had you met anyone who would want— or could afford, really— to commission such a painstakingly realistic portrait of themselves. How much it cost, you could not fathom, and did not care to discover. “So this is your party, then?” You continued after he made no further attempt at conversation.

He nodded, that smirk curling the corner of his mouth again. “You’re an observant little thing, aren’t you?” He remarked, sipping again from his cup. His words were rather rude, and you frowned before you shrugged them off, dismissing them in an instant. You weren’t really surprised by his smug comment, though your displeasure must have been visible because he immediately steered the conversation in another direction. “Are you enjoying yourself? May I get you a drink, my honored guest?”

It was a little off to you how his demeanor changed just like that, a flip of the switch, really— but you were thirsty, and you were curious to see what kind of expensive refreshments were available, so you found yourself nodding with a small smile of gratitude on your lips. He mirrored your smile before he mumbled something about returning soon, his figure swallowed up in the sea of masked faces.

Finding yourself alone once again, you went back to inspecting the portraits, happily humming to yourself as you enjoyed your hors d'oeuvre. You looked around the party, searching for that same waiter, wanting to grab a few more of those delicious bites while you had the chance.

It was then that you met a distinct set of eyes across the room, a white mask with delicate swirls decorating his handsome face. However much the mask concealed his face, there was no doubting that he was the other man from the portrait behind you— his hair was a stark giveaway— half of it scarlet and hanging loosely atop his brow, the other half a shocking shade of white, pushed back to give him a devilishly intimidating aura. Your throat tightened up as he began to make his way toward you, slowly but surely closing the distance between the two of you.

You couldn’t help but wonder if either of these men were the one who sent you your invitation— if one of them was to thank for showering you with such extravagance, for allowing you to dip your toes in the enticing pool of luxury. But you were not allowed to ponder the thought, for in no time at all the man in question stepped before you.

Without even a single thought, your body automatically shifted into a curtsey, and you blinked in surprise as he bowed his greeting in return. He didn’t give you a second to question it, lithe, gloved fingers taking hold of your hand and bringing it to his mouth. His lips were cold to the touch, and your hand trembled slightly as he let go.

“Todoroki Shouto,” he introduced himself, his smooth, deep voice resonating through your body. Something about him made you feel incredibly hot, yet you couldn’t take your eyes off of him. It was strange how much he seemed to affect you— almost supernatural. At your stunned silence, he smirked ever so slightly, shifting his head to look down at your shorter figure. “Your name, love? It would be rude of me to refer to you as the most alluring woman in the room the whole night, no?”

Flustered you were caught off guard, you quickly told him your name, adding on it was a pleasure to meet him.

“Y/N, hm? A beautiful name. It suits a woman as breathtaking as you.” He continued, and you could see how satisfied he was by your bashful reaction. “I can assure you, the pleasure is all mine.”

You smiled hesitantly at the man before you, unsure how to respond to his blatant flirting. With the momentary lull in your conversation, you looked over your shoulder to eye the painting once again. Todoroki watched your curious gaze like a hawk, unbeknownst to you. When you looked back to him, you smiled as you pointed your thumb over your shoulder. “Is that—”

“Would you like to dance?” He interrupted, folding your smaller hand in his and taking a step backwards into the dancefloor.

Panic coursed through you— you didn’t know how to dance, or at least, you didn’t think your ballroom skills would be nearly as good as his and everyone else’s here. Yet somehow when you opened your mouth to politely decline, instead came out, “I would be honored.”

With wide eyes you were guided into the center of the room, his other gloved hand coming to rest at the curve of your waist. Your hands found their own way into position, one on his shoulder, and the other wrapped tight around his as he began to steer you around the room. You were shocked to find yourself matching each of his steps, your feet moving in perfect harmony with his. But when you looked into his eyes, a trickle of horror ran down your spine.

He was looking directly at you, two-toned eyes boring into yours with unbridled desire, and some other emotion mixing in to create a frightful end result that could only be described as hunger. Yes, there was no mistaking it— that was hunger in his eyes— for what, you did not know, but somehow your body was aware that whatever it was, you were in for quite the night.

“The dress looks simply appetizing on you, love,” he whispered in your ear, chilling the blood in your veins just like that. “Were you surprised to find it fit like a glove? You look so angelic when you sleep… I hated to disturb you, but it was gratifying to know how much you enjoyed my touch...” His lips brushed against your dangling earrings, and a shiver ran through your body as he inhaled across the skin of your neck.

“Y-You—” you stuttered, eyes widening with realization. Had he— had he taken your measurements? He’d snuck into your bedroom? When? Why? You didn’t even know this man— why would he have taken such an interest in you, how did he know where you lived, and why— why was your heart beating out of your chest at the thought of him seeing you in your sluttly little pyjamas? You knew there was something off about this, but never could you imagine this would be the turn of events tonight. You were terrified, and yet ashamedly, a small part of you was pleased to know a handsome and powerful man as himself had gone to such lengths to woo you. There was no denying it… even though your stomach was tied into knots and fear sat like a stone in your belly, a white-hot, irrefutable desire had sparked to life between your legs.

“Not just me...” he murmured, the tip of his nose dragging against your temple before he dipped you down towards the tiled floor right in tune with the crescendo of the music, your back bending in his grip. Now upside-down, your heart skipped a beat as you recognized Shinsou staring the pair of you down from across the room, that same smirk on his lips as he raised his chalice in contempt. “You’ve met Hitoshi, correct?”

You were only spared a moment to piece it all together, that tight feeling in your stomach only twisting further. S.H… it wasn’t the name of one suitor, but two— Shouto and Hitoshi. Two rich and powerful men that both tricked you into coming to their home, and you had fallen for it— practically serving yourself to them on a silver platter. You were no better than a damn steak tartare! You wanted to face-palm, to smack yourself for being so naive, but you found that your body was not your own; you couldn’t control yourself, couldn’t even speak, and all you could do was continue to dance with the horribly attractive man whose trap you had strolled right into.

Had they drugged you? Was it that accursed steak tartare? But then, wouldn’t you have passed out, or your limbs stopped working? How were you not missing a single step with Todoroki right now, spinning when he led you to spin, and willingly stepping into him when he pulled you back into his embrace.

“What… What are you going to do to me?” Your voice was shaking, even though your body moved more confidently than ever as the pair of you strode across the marble floor. “How is this happening?” You added, feeling quite small as the target of not one, but two predatory gazes.

Todoroki took his time to answer you, wordlessly twirling you in his arms as the music then came to a stop, a new melody beginning just as the previous one faded out. “Whatever we want, I suppose,” he answered, his gloved fingers traveling up your back to grasp your chin, forcing you to look into his chilling gaze. “But don’t worry, love… I don’t think you’re going to hate it all that much.”

— - — - — - — - — - — - — - —

It was only an hour later that you were being led to the other side of the mansion— away from the music and festivities, and away from the false sense of protection the crowd provided. Todoroki walked in front of you, and Shinsou’s hand rested casually on your hip as he walked beside you. Your palms were lined in a thin coating of sweat, your growing fear causing your pulse to skyrocket. You knew that you were about to understand why they had fooled you into coming here, and though you had pondered what terrible fate they had chosen for you for the past hour, your mind was completely blank. You could only watch as your feet moved one in front of the other, your body once again under their spell.

Whatever it was that they were doing, they somehow had complete control over you, and they had forced your body to dance with the both of them for the entire time you’d been there so far. It had created some fake relief as whatever it was they had planned was pushed off for the time being, but you couldn’t indulge such relief, and your nerves were more heightened than ever. You reached your breaking point when you entered a dimly-lit bedroom, and the door closed behind you, lock clicking into place.

“Please,” you pleaded, your body moving to stand in the middle of the room, right before the four-poster, canopy-laden bed. “Just tell me what’s happening, I can’t move a single muscle…”

Shinsou frowned, gloved hand coming up to discard his mask. Your breath caught in your throat— God, even if he was your captor, you couldn’t deny he was handsome. He slowly approached you, fingertips tracing along your jaw before removing your mask as well. He sucked in a small breath of air, violet eyes dark with a foreign sentiment. “Relax, baby… We’re just gonna make you feel good. We’ve wanted to make you feel good for so long now…” His eyes dropped to analyze your lips, entranced by their color and plushness.

“But… Why can’t I move?” you reiterated, and your eyes widened as Todoroki’s presence noticeably pressed up against your behind. The feeling of his body against yours sent your heart hammering, and you swallowed as you considered your options here— there was really only one means of escape and that had to start with you tricking them into freeing you from their spell. Licking your dry lips, you meekly added, “What if I… wanted to make you feel good, too?”

“Fucking Christ,” said Shinsou, who took a step backward, his palm coming to run across his face momentarily. He seemed on edge, anticipation distinctly painted across his rugged features.

Meanwhile Todoroki took his time to answer, considering your choice of words thoughtfully. “We have a lot planned for you… but we need to re-energize before we can do anything, love,” he replied simply, his voice low in your ear. He pulled off his gloves, cold fingers catching on your jaw as he turned your face to meet his. You whimpered as he leaned into you, and before you could make a single word, his lips claimed yours, cutting off any chance at a rebuttal.

You didn’t want to admit how good his mouth felt on yours, but you couldn’t ignore the butterflies that burst into your stomach as he kissed you— they were not the result of any foreign spell. Shinsou groaned as he watched Todoroki’s tongue slip into your mouth, actions getting more fervent as the dual-colored man’s fingers slipped around your head, cradling your face against his. His lips attacked yours, slotting against them and tongue wandering between the gaps. You gasped when something sharp pricked your bottom lip, automatically pulling back, your hand coming up to touch your lip.

Bright red stained your fingertip, and you looked between the evidence of your injury and the cause of the wound, eyes widening as you took in how dark Todoroki’s eyes had become, canines elongating into sharp fangs. Bewildered, you stayed frozen to the spot, unable to do anything yet again as his hand swiftly wrapped around your wrist, yanking your hand to his mouth and wrapping his lips around your finger. The feeling of his tongue swirling around the digit made heat flare in your core, even as terror began to pump through your veins. His other hand gripped your hip roughly, pulling your body flush unto his.

The desire to scream out in fear came quickly, but you found no sound came out of you when your mouth opened. Your head still turned to Todoroki, you didn’t anticipate Shinsou coming up in front of you, only noticing the other man when his tongue stroked across the tender skin on your neck. Your body stiffened as the wet muscle slid along your throat, your eyes wide and petrified.

“There you go, just relax...” Todoroki groaned, leaning in to suck on your broken lip, his tongue petting over the fresh wound gently. It stung, but at the same time it felt very intimate— something you had never done before that had that heat building in the pit of your stomach.

A set of fangs pricked your neck, Shinsou’s lips fluttering up toward your jaw. You loathed how soft they felt, a distinct contrast to the sharpened enamels that suddenly descended into your flesh. You cried out, unprepared for the searing pain that shot through your body. Your skin felt like it was throbbing, sizzling from the unwelcome heat and pain mixing together.

“Shhh, love,” Todoroki cooed, laying a gentle kiss on your open mouth. “It won’t hurt for long…” He continued to suckle on your lip, beautiful eyes staring deeply into yours as he cradled your face. The thin ring of iris around his blown pupils shone brightly in the low light of the flickering candles, brilliant aqua and stormy gray contrasting, mesmerizing you and momentarily taking you away from the pain of the fangs lodged in your throat.

Shinsou was moaning against your neck, Adam’s apple bobbing as he took his fill from your bloodstream. His hands were gripping your waist tightly, fingers wandering up your back to curl your body closer to his embrace. You were so out of it, so lost in the taller man’s gaze, that you almost didn’t register the growing hardness pressing into your inner thigh. Shinsou was gently rutting against your leg, pressing his crotch onto you as he held your limp body with surprising care.

The sharp pain of his fangs in your neck had transformed into a dull throb, your body slowly numbing to his bite. It wasn’t long before Shinsou drew back, tongue roving over the flesh puncture marks that laid on your throat. His tongue hurt at first, but the second and third swipe of the strong, wet muscle felt increasingly good, and you hated how your thighs twitched together at the feeling. Apparently the two of them knew you would be experiencing this effect, for they both started to move you backwards, wandering closer to the bed.

You could hear Todoroki get onto the mattress before the pair of them maneuvered your body to join his, lifting you up and setting you down onto the plush comforter before him. His hands slid to your front, down your stomach and perched on your hips, pushing them back so your ass met his crotch. Your eyes went wide as you felt Todoroki’s erection poke into your ass, and Shinsou chuckled darkly as he, too, crawled onto the bed.

Although you opened your mouth to speak, no words came out, and the purple-haired vampire before you winked as the smirk on his lips only grew. There was still a trickle of your blood tainting the skin on his chin, and his fangs poked out as he grinned at you.

“You missed some,” Todoroki stated, voice a bit rougher than it had been downstairs. Your head turned to look at him, but you found his gaze was not focused on you— he was looking straight at Shinsou, eyes darkening and teeth elongating into points.

“Saved it for you, have a taste,” Shinsou replied nonchalantly, scooting closer to you. The space between the two men’s mouths closed and you gasped as you watched their lips collide, a moan tumbling out of the man supporting your back. That horrible heat burst between your legs, your mouth watering as you saw Todoroki’s tongue slips into Shinsou’s mouth, their fangs clicking as they brushed together.

Shinsou chuckled as he pulled back, Todoroki’s tongue wandering down to trace the line of your blood that streaked down his chin. Shinsou looked at you as he grinned, clearly happy that their kiss had such an effect on you. “You taste so good, baby,” he complimented, and you whimpered as heat burst in your cheeks.

It was shameful how much this was turning you on— a monster straight out of a fairytale was here in front of you, feeding off of you, able to end your life he re really wanted to in probably just one swift bite— and yet your pussy was drooling all over your panties for him, an uncomfortable dampness collecting between your thighs. You couldn’t stop your hips from wiggling, but as you moved back from Shinsou, you pressed up against Todoroki, who let out a throaty groan. The swell of your backside pushed against his hard cock just right, and you gasped as his hands suddenly jumped to the hem of your dress, pulling it to rest at the tops of your thighs. Your pussy twitched as the cool air rushed across your sticky panties, and you mewled as one hand drifted up to squeeze your breast, the other slapping gently over your panty-covered clit.

Shinsou’s hands glided down your waist, large palms running over your hips before he grabbed your thighs, yanking you to the edge of the mattress as he fell to his knees. Kneeling between your legs, he chucked again as he inspected the wet patch on darkening the front of your underwear. His thumb met your slit and he traced it up and down a few times, grin splitting his smirk as you unintentionally let out a moan.

It was then that Todoroki’s fangs sliced into the unmarked flesh on the other side of your neck. You cried out, the pain just as stringing and intense as Shinsou’s bite had delivered. But you weren’t left to focus on it long— Shinsou pulled your underwear to the side and dipped a thumb into your soaking folds, rubbing up the length of your slit once again. The direct contact made your toes curl, your slick folds parting with ease as the ample evidence of your arousal allowed his finger to glide through without catch. He hummed as he rubbed his thumb against your clit a few times, violet eyes flicking up to see your eyelashes fluttering across your cheeks, Todoroki’s lips latched to your throat as he took his fill from your sweet bloodstream.

Todoroki’s fingers curled into the top of your dress, and he pulled it down to reveal your tits to the cool air, your nipples instantly perking up and standing at attention. The red and white haired man moaned as he sucked on your throat, his forefinger and thumbs capturing each nipple and twisting the sensitive buds.

“Fuck!” you whined, immediately embarrassed that you hadn’t been able to hold the expletive in. But neither of the men seemed to share your sentiment, the pair of them moaning softly in response to your noise of pleasure as if encouraging you to let out even more.

Shinsou smiled as he pinched the sides of your panties, yanking the material down your thighs and off your ankles before separating your legs and inserting himself between them. He gave you no warning as his tongue suddenly licked a flat stripe up your slit, rolling around your clit perfectly at the end of his journey. Your legs tensed as they closed around his head, a hot puff of air escaping you as Todoroki finally pulled off of your neck with a broken gasp. His breathing was ragged as his tongue lashed over the fresh marks, the repeated action having the same, dizzying sensation that Shinsou had elicited. Then Shinsou’s tongue was wiggling across your clit, alternating between sucking on the sensitive pearl and lavishing it in vicious swipes of his strong, wet tongue.

Meanwhile Todoroki was ripping off his clothes, revealing his broad, sturdy chest in all its glory before he yanked at the zipper on your spine, sliding your dress over your shoulders and tossing it onto the floor. Your bra was next, leaving you in just your sparkly heels and your glimmering gems.

You could feel both pairs of eyes inspecting your naked body, Todorki’s hands returning to tweak at your nipples while Shinsou thrusted his tongue inside your quivering hole. He moaned as his tongue probed at your insides, sending vibrations through your core and causing your legs to tighten around his head. Pleasure was coursing through you, overwhelming the urge to scream and run that had been all you could focus on just minutes ago. But your pussy was dripping for the both of them, and Shinsou was savoring every drop as he animatedly lapped at you— never before had anyone so enthusiastically eaten your cunt like this, and his zeal only made you leak onto his mouth even more.

You had been so focused on the man in between your legs that you only recognized Todoroki had fully unclothed himself when he moved backward, easing your head back so you lay flat on the mattress. Your pussy twitched violently on Shinsou’s tongue when you caught sight of Todoroki’s cock standing long and thick, tall against his carved abdomen, his expression dark as he shuffled forward.

“Open your mouth, baby,” he instructed and you obeyed immediately, as if you couldn’t follow his instruction any faster. Your eagerness made him smirk, and you made sure to keep eye contact as he rubbed the tip of his heavy cock against your sealed lips. But suddenly Shinsou started to attack your clit with new fervor, tongue flicking across the bundle of nerves repeatedly.

You couldn’t stop the moan that flew out of you, and as soon as your mouth was open, Todoroki pushed forward, shoving his cock deep into your mouth. You choked at the sudden intrusion, but he only grabbed your throat with one hand and thrust into your mouth even rougher than before. He didn’t seem to care much about your comfort, your heartbeat skyrocketing as the need for oxygen started burning in your lungs.

Todoroki pulled his cock out just in time for you to gasp in a few breaths before he rammed his cock back inside, powerful thighs pinning your head to the mattress as he leaned forward with hands on either side of your waist and head hung while he uttered a quiet moan. “That’s right, love. Go ahead and suck my cock… I want to hear you choke on me, naughty little thing.”

A wanton moan slipped out of you, his cock filling your throat to the max, and his rough, determined thrusts causing your pussy to flood even more. Shinsou was still licking at your cunt purposefully, tongue sliding around your folds and over your clit as he sucked and flicked it to your liking. You started to become more vocal as pressure began to build in your stomach, your hips writhing wildly underneath his pinning grip as Todoroki used your mouth to his liking. Your eyes rolled back as you felt your high approaching, unaware of Shinsou slowly but steadily undressing himself while he suckled at your puffy folds.

Todoroki’s thrusts became slower but deeper suddenly, and you swirled your tongue around his swollen tip when his hips receded. You were caught off guard when Shinsou’s lips left your cunt and instead his teeth sunk into the soft skin on your thigh, taking another sampling from your veins. This time, the initial pain was much duller, and it quickly faded into something concerningly pleasurable. There must have been some higher-level effect at play here— there was no way that such gleaming fangs stabbing into you and feeding from you should feel that good. Yet it undoubtedly made your toes curl, bliss spreading through your body like wildfire through dry grass. It only increased when a long finger slipped inside of you, a second entering with ease as they began rubbing inside of you gently. You could feel Shinsou moan into your pillowy thigh, the noise only making your cunt itch for his attention again.

You let out a desolate whine when both of the men suddenly pulled away from you, your pussy hotter and wetter than ever, and your cheeks dribbling with your saliva as a result of Todoroki’s face-fucking. It was then that you realized Shinsou was naked, too, your mouth watering at his visage; his cock stood thicker and shorter than Todoroki’s, but both of them were punching well above average, muc to your delight.

Todoroki slipped off the mattress and Shinsou walked around the edge of the bed, the pair switching and settling in reverse positions. Shinsou stroked your cheek sweetly, capturing your attention as he smiled down at you. You craned your neck to press a kiss to the leaking tip of him, your tongue poking out to swipe the salty bead of pre-cum that lay there. Your eyes went wide when you felt the telltale smoothness of Todoroki’s cock splitting your slick-drenched folds, his hands settling on your hips before he grabbed them, rutting his own forward and causing his cock to push halfway into your tight hole. The stretch made the both of you gasp, your wet, little hole hugging his large cock snug as he began to move his hips.

Shinsou had enjoyed the intimate moment but found himself getting impatient, slapping his thick, oozing cockhead over your lips to grab your attention once again. You looked up at him with wide, starry eyes, your mouth opening for him to glide his cock into your mouth. “Good girl,” he murmured, eyes fixating on the way your lips wrapped around his girth, the way his thick veins looked rolling against your tongue. Your cheeks hollowed in attempt to satiate him, but you instantly cried out when Todoroki’s hips slapped flush against yours, shoving his cock inside of your cunt entirely.

The impossible fullness that bloomed in your stomach was delectable, and Todoroki began to thrust into your slippery cunt at a reliable, hard pace. He let out a guttural groan as he watched his cock disappear into your slick folds, the heat of your pussy overwhelming him. He lifted both your legs over his shoulders, making sure to grab one of your ankles and pulling it upright so your leg was fully extended. Then, his fangs broke the smooth skin on your calf and you whimpered at the feeling. It felt so good to have him suck on your skin— to feel your blood flowing out of your body and into his eager mouth. It was sick, but you couldn’t think about it at the moment— couldn’t find any fault with the two monsters that were taking you to cloud nine.

“Fuck, just like that,” Shinsou mumbled, eyes flicking up to watch a rivulet of your blood strike down your outstretched leg. When he looked back down towards you, your eyes were closed and your brow scrunched, an indication of the pleasure that was ebbing through your body thanks to the cadenced swing of Todoroki’s hips. “You’re such a good fucking girl,” Shinsou praised as he threw back his head, his fingers carding through your hair and tugging gently at your roots.

Just as the three of you seemed to find a rhythm, Todoroki pulled out abruptly, making your mouth part in a whine, Shinsou’s thick member springing out of your wet cavern and into the cool, still air. The purple-haired man hissed in annoyance, gritting his teeth as he looked to the other man to scold him, but quickly his irritation melted as he watched Todoroki flip you so your stomach lay flat on the sheets. Then, he hiked your ass into the air, your body moving along with him with such cooperation that the pair of them shared a look, haughty smirks stretching on both their lips. It was their secret that they had stopped using their mind control on you, and it seemed you were the only one that continued, blissfully unaware. Perhaps you didn’t even realize… perhaps you didn’t care.

It didn’t matter, really— Todoroki lined himself up with your dripping cunt, taking no pause this time as his cock speared inside you once again. You moaned as you reeled forward, your fingers gripping into the duvet harshly as your body tightened up from the delicious intrusion. His long, thick cock felt like magic inside of you, each thrust brushing a soft spot nestled deep inside of you and stimulating you further.

Shinsou jerked himself off lazily as he watched your facial expressions, trapping his bottom lip between his sharp teeth as he registered the erotic ecstasy painted across your beautiful features. After a minute of allowing you to focus his accomplice’s hard cock, he pressed the tip of his own to your lips. You immediately opened your mouth, taking the flushed member between your lips with restless reception, tongue rolling around the swollen head. Shinsou sighed, half-lidded lavender irises watching you begin to eagerly bob up and down his length. He thumbed over a drop of blood that had rolled down your throat, catching Todoroki’s eye and offering his finger to the other man, who happily took the digit into his mouth and sucked, tongue soaking up your life essence as his hand wrapped around Shinsou’s wrist to steady himself. They both chuckled as you moaned loudly, Todoroki’s free hand clapping across your ass cheek and causing your cunt to clench down on his cock.

“You like that?” he teased, grabbing your flesh and shaking it, watching your ass jiggle before striking you again, a few smacks in succession. You could only gag and moan in reply, Shinsou’s cock thrusting into the back of your throat. The purple-eyed vampire gripped your chin with his calloused, cold hand, keeping your head in place as he began to fuck your face. Suddenly Todoroki spat onto your behind, his saliva wetting your puckered hole before he shoved his thumb inside of your ass, the unexpected stretch sending fresh bliss through your body as his cock dragged against it through your walls. Tears were beading on your lashes, the combination of the lack of oxygen, the attack of your g-spot from Todoroki’s cock, and the sharp pain of his hand across your ass all sending you hurtling towards your high.

With a shriek you came on his cock, your cunt wringing snug around the heavy member that just kept pistoning into you, angling your hips so the head pounding into that sensitive, spongy spot again and again. Todoroki groaned, taking his finger out and both his hands now squeezing at your hips as he continued to fuck you, offering a few more slaps to your ass as you trembled in ecstasy. While your head was still filled with the euphoric fog of your climax, Shinsou pulled out of your mouth, nodding to Todoroki, who wordlessly understood. The mismatched vampire hooked his arms around your knees, heaving you up against his chest and spreading your legs far apart enough for Shinsou to slide between them.

You were still catching your breath as Shinsou reached for Todoroki’s cock, slotting his thighs between the other man’s and positioning his length so that his slick-covered head rested right at your asshole. You gasped, your arm bending to dig your nails into Todoroki’s shoulder as you looked behind at him, catching his lustful gaze down at you. Shinsou then began to sloppily kiss your throat, his cock rubbing against your glazed, ravaged opening as his hands ran across the curve of your ass, landing on Todoroki’s waist behind your hips. The both of them entered you at the same time, your vision dotting with white spots as the stretch from both sides took your breath away. They both managed to slip inside, fully seating you onto their laps as you trembled, your stiff nipples brushing against Shinsou’s toned chest.

Todoroki nibbled at your ear as he began to pump his cock inside of you, filling your ass with each thrust and stimulating you as he rubbed himself against Shinsou’s cock through your walls. “So tight, love…,” he murmured in your ear, the prick of his sharp fangs on your cartilage sending shivers down your spine. His tongue wandered out and he traced the tip of it against the column of your throat, brushing over the leaking puncture wounds that laid there. “So sweet… can’t help myself,” his words turned into a savage moan as he sunk his fangs into your skin, the pain washing away abruptly as Shinsou, too, started to push his hips into yours.

Shinsou groaned, one hand coming to caress your chin as he claimed your lips with his own. His tongue entered your mouth and wrestled with yours as his tempo began to pick up, his cock stretching your cunt wide and sending waves of pleasure through your core. When he pulled back, you were both panting, your breasts heaving with the rapid rise and fall of your chest. It was then that Todoroki pulled away from your neck, gasping in a breath of air as his fangs glistened scarlet. Shinsou took one look at him and crushed his mouth to his, your holes clenching around their lengths as you watched your blood be exchanged between their ravenous tongues. The pair of them were moaning, and so were you— unable to keep the noises of pure pleasure inside as you watched them make out.

Your blood was dripping down Todoroki’s chin, and you couldn’t stop yourself from reaching over and grabbing his jaw, ripping his lips away from Shinsou’s and instead placing your mouth on his. He growled in approval against your lips, his tongue battling yours as he sought to dominate you, the distinct flavor of iron filling your mouth as you tasted your own blood. Shinsou took the opportunity to sink his cuspids into the other side of your throat again, and your jaw fell in response, Todoroki’s tongue seizing control of yours immediately as he grasped the upper hand. Both of them were full-on fucking you now, your holes warm and wet, quivering around their thick cocks as the brought you closer and closer to your high yet again.

Only the sound of your heavy breathing and the slapping of your skins filled the air in the room, the music of the party drowned and far away as the three of you were otherwise occupied. Before you knew it, you were clenching on them again, your body seizing as your orgasm ripped through you, all the air in your lungs vacuumed out of you and your toes curling into the air. Your fingers fisted Shinsou’s wild violet locks, your nails digging into Todoroki’s jaw as you tumbled through the throes of your climax, euphoria rushing through your bloodstream and straight into Shinsou’s awaiting mouth.

The sweet taste of your oxytocin, your drug-like ecstasy, sent him straight into his own orgasm, his hips pushing flush against yours as he roared and his cock spurted thick white ribbons deep into your womb, his seed pouring into you and filling you to the brim. His chiseled body trembled as he emptied himself inside of you, his fingers bruising your skin while he gasped and moaned. Your holes clenched as you milked his cock, and suddenly Todoroki, too, groaned loudly behind you. His hands squeezed your flesh as his cock spurted hot cum inside of you, his abdomen flush against your ass as he crushed your body to his front.

The three of you sat there on the bed, your bodies covered in sweat and remnants of your blood, breathless and still as you came back down to earth. Shinsou’s lips trailed along your neck, Todoroki’s fingertips sliding across your skin with gentle care as they pulled out of you. Their seed dribbled down your thighs as they maneuvered your boneless body back onto the pillows, your eyes fluttering closed from the pure exhaustion and the lack of blood in your veins. Each of them laid back on either side of you, their cold hands wandering over your skin and causing goosebumps to rise, their eyes roaming your body in pure adoration.

“You did so well, baby,” Shinsou murmured into your hair, pressing his face close to yours as he sighed and inhaled the sweet scent lingering from the blood on your skin.

“So well-behaved for us,” Todoroki added, wrapping an arm around your middle as he, too, nestled closer to your limp body. “Go to sleep, love… you deserve some rest.”

You hummed at their praise, tired butterflies flapping their wings in the pit of your stomach. Your head was fuzzier than ever, bliss weighing heavy in your bones as your breathing steadied. Filled with post-orgasmic content, the idea of fleeing that seemed so wonderful just an hour ago now sounded distasteful, your body comfortable lying on the silken sheets, pressed between your two lovers. As you faded into a blissful sleep, you could hear the pair talking lowly, making plans to keep you here with them in hushed voices.

─── ・°* ﾟ✧:* • ｡ﾟ:*･☽･*: ｡ﾟ•*:✧ ﾟ*°・ ───

so sorry if that was rushed at the end!! hope you enjoyed, and Happy Halloween!! be safe out there <3

➥ masterlist

#todoroki shouto smut #todoroki shoto smut #shinsou hitoshi smut #shinso hitoshi smut #todoroki shouto fic #todoroki shoto fic #shinsou hitoshi fic #shinso hitoshi fic #shinso x reader #shinsou x reader #todoroki x reader #shouto x reader #bnha smut #mha smut #tw: dubcon #tw: yandere #my fics

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cafeinthemoon · 3 years

Text

The Home I Crave - Chapter 14

Title: The Home I Crave

Genre: Fanfiction

Pairing: Tobirama Senju x reader

Rating: teen and up

Word count:

Chapter: 14/?

Symbols: ⭕ | ➕ | 💛 | ▶️▶️

Read the previous chapters here: Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9, Chapter 10, Chapter 11, Chapter 12, Chapter 13

Chapter 14 - Flood

You didn’t think the sounds of the storm outside were so loud inside that room until you turned out the lights and laid down to sleep, but now you were afraid they wouldn’t let you rest. Ironic, you thought; you’ve been wishing for this moment to come since you arrived at the tea house, dirty, soaked and tired as can be, and now that you were ready to have your well deserved night of sleep your eyes were there, open wide, going from one side to another in the darkness, as you wondered how long that roof above you would stand against the violence of the rain. From time to time, a flash of light would invade the tiny space between those four walls, followed by a thunder that would shake them and the windows.

If they were your only problem, you would be good, however. But there was also the fact that you couldn’t even move on that mattress: right beside you, at your left and with his pillow above yours, Tobirama seemed to be in his deepest sleep; he was lying on his back and had his right arm folded and hand under his head, while the left one was upon his stomach, and you had your back turned on him, barely folding your legs to not invade his space. You knew that if he had at least one clean sheet left, he would spread it on the wood floor and would sleep on it, but all of your things were in need of a good wash, so he had to do the same as you and be content with the futon. Now you were using the sheet that you found with it, but it was far from being enough for you two, so you avoided sudden movements as you could.

After minutes without seeing the slightest sign of sleep approach you, your body started aching from keeping the same position for a long time and you were forced to move. You turned to him and passed your arms around yourself but startled when your face touched his side. You moved away immediately, but he didn’t show any reaction. With a sigh of relief, you closed your eyes and waited to see if your body would be finally conquered by tiredness.

***

A thunder exploded in your ears and you startled on your place, holding back a scream. You opened your eyes, now burning, and looked around, but found the same shadows in which the room was already involved; outside the inn, the storm followed its pace. Only after that you understood you fell asleep, but you weren’t sure if you’ve been like this for hours or just a few minutes.

Perhaps the second case was the right one, for you noticed that Tobirama didn’t move beside you – instead, you moved closer to him, so that you had your face resting on his side, almost upon his chest, while your pillow was abandoned under your back. His skin was warm, so you felt the change of temperature when you moved away and adjusted your pillow on its original place. You laid your head on it and folded your legs a little, just enough to hide your feet back under the sheet. This time, there was a reaction from his part: still with his arm folded under his head, he turned to your side, and now you had his other arm over your shoulder, obstructing part of your sight if you looked at your surroundings, and his chest before you. You didn’t even have the time to move away; now, with the weight of his arm upon you, you’d have to find a way to sleep like this until he decided to change his position again. Which you didn’t think it was going to happen so soon.

You swallowed. After minutes like this, with your eyes closed, you found out you were no longer unfamiliar to that situation as you first imagined. You sensed your skin warming up as his body heat reached you; your nostrils didn’t recognize the strong smell they sensed right after he left the bath tub as they got used to it; even your breath, calming down after the fright with the thunder, was adjusting to the rhythm of his own, controlled, regular as everything he did while awake. You would have released a sigh of annoyance if you had more space between you: you were physically and emotionally tired, so your body was supplying both necessities by relaxing in his embrace; there was nothing you could do about this, and you didn’t like to be left without options.

You started to imagine how it would feel like if Tobirama didn’t come after you and you were there all by yourself, arranging everything while worrying about the storm outside, wondering when it would finally stop and how you would find the roads after it the next morning. You had to admit that if you were there alone, you would take longer to reach the tea house, which meant that you’d spend at least some hours in the storm before finding it, and with the mud that would certainly fill the path ahead, the rest of your journey would be even slower. Yes, you could use your Doton to soothe its sinuosity, but how you would preserve your chakra until you found your compound? How would you serve your family if you came to them exhausted, unable to perform any jutsu and possibly hurt?

You tightened your lips with anger. Leaving Konoha the way you did was indeed stupid – nothing that would count in your favor, as a woman, an advisor and a shinobi. Was it your fault? Yes. Was it Tobirama’s fault? Yes. Could you find a different way to fix the situation? Of course, yes: you could look for the Hokage’s advice; you three could sit down and talk openly about the letter and the discomfort it was causing both in your personal and political environment. But was it possible to act this rational when your beloved ones were involved and your intelligence and position were seen with disdain by someone who worked doing exactly the same as you?

And now he was sleeping as if nothing happened, as he didn’t do in days, or at least it seemed to be. How could he, when you were there unable to do the same?

How was it fair?

- Am I smothering you?

Those words, said so close you, made you startle in the dark. So, he was awake. You must have moved abruptly without noticing and thus you woke him up, or the shifts in your mood were sensed by him thanks to his sensory talents. You whispered a “no” back to him, but didn’t move from your place or made any effort to turn that into a conversation. Tobirama didn’t say anything after that as well. Or at least not immediately.

- Are you worried about how we will cross the road after this storm? – he asked after a minute or two, and you started to think that he was really able to read minds.

You sighed.

- There aren’t many trees on this part of the territory that we could use to travel. We will have to walk for most of the time. But the conditions of the soil will delay us in at least an entire day – a ray of light crossed the room from side to side and your eyes turned to the window’s direction, over his shoulder – Using Doton to make things easier for us is an option, but it’s not the smartest thing to waste chakra like that.

- You are right – was his reply – We will have to spend some time looking for the less damaged spots of the road, which will demand additional energy from us. You should try and take some rest now.

You knew he was right. As far as you knew, that was going to be your only chance to sleep under a proper roof until you arrived at your clan’s compound. Still, you were unable to close your eyes or to stop the voice inside your head, babbling in a competition against the noises of the storm.

- As if I could just sleep whenever I want – you moved away from him; after he took his arm off your shoulder you sat on the futon and folded your knees – My head is about to explode, you know?

You sensed a pressure on the mattress the moment he leaned on his right elbow, turned on your side. You heard his voice behind you, lower, free of the demanding tone you were used to notice in it.

- I apologize for this, y/n-san.

You turned to him at the same time you heard that, not hiding your surprise. Tobirama was really admitting his part of the responsibility in the situation you were in? After all you’ve seen since you met him and the incident with the letter, you never thought you would see this man apologizing for something one day. But there he was, speaking about his mistake in that clean and simple manner of his when you least expected. Was there something else in this world that could make you gasp?

- I have a tendency to underestimate the subjectivity of things when I am given enough space – he continued with the same calmness as before – Most of the times, I have my brother to stop this. But that was not the case when we argued because of the letter. Let me tell you that the peaceful circumstances in which our people have been living depended on our unconditional compliance as shinobi. Nothing would stand for too long without proper attachment to the rules. My mistake was ignoring the fact that, as someone who came from a different place, you might not see things the same way, which resulted in this situation. And I am sorry for that.

You observed him for a while before replying. You agreed with him on this: his attachment to laws and rules blinded his judgment to the subjective aspects involved and resulted in an argument that put an entire alliance in risk, and your response to this wasn’t even better. But how could you act differently? You both were what you were, after all.

- We the ... clan know the importance of respecting the laws as much as you do – you commented – But if I’m being honest with you, there are people in my clan, and even among my relatives, that are far better than me in this.

Something in his way told you that what you just said awakened his curiosity. Perhaps there were still many things he needed – and wanted – to know about you and your people. So you just continued to talk.

- My sister, the one who is sick, is the best example of compliance and order I can remember right now. She is two years younger than me, but she has surpassed me in more aspects that I’d like to tell you. Since we were kids, she was always more passionate about our studies than I ever was. She learned all the family jutsu before me and is a better Captain than I will ever be. When it was established that I would be sent to Konoha, she was supposed to occupy my position as our father’s advisor, sometimes working as his bodyguard too. I was more adapted to the diplomatic work, but she could do both with little difficulty.

You turned to Tobirama and leaned your left hand on the futon, upon the spot where you lying. You took time looking at his figure in the shadows, sometimes alternated with the lights of the rays from outside reflecting on his gray hair, turning it white, and inside the sharp line of his eyes, lighting a fire with their redness. Your face was entirely in heat with what you said next.

- I cannot help thinking that our father should have sent her to Konoha, and not me. She should have sealed the treaty and married you instead of me. She’s younger than me, but I am sure she would have achieved our clans’ goal by now. And if she would ever faced a problem like that one with the letter, she would have found a better solution than this – you shook your hand and your eyes passed upon your surroundings with despise.

You were dominated by tiredness and laid back on your place, but that was not the end of the conversation.

- Our younger sisters adore her because she always had more time for them than I’ve ever had. I wonder how difficult things are being for them right now…

No longer worrying about what he could think and tired of your own judgment, you brought your hands to your face, covering it the moment your eyes started to burn, full of tears. You tried to hold back a sob, but failed: you turned on your side, towards your husband, and passed your arms around yourself to avoid the trembles.

It was when the unexpected happened. In the dark, you felt him pulling back the sheet and lying back on your side, his arm passing around you again, but this time he brought you closer to him. Maybe his embrace was too tight, but that was not something you would care, not in those circumstances; maybe it would bring you the relief you needed, when you were there warmed up by his skin’s heat, breathing against his chest, not holding back your tears.

Moments passed, and the burning in your eyes started to diminish, your breath was coming back to normal, not alternated with sobs, and your body was not shaken by shivers under the sheets. It was as if the knot formed in your throat just came undone and the sleep was coming back to you. Even in that tight hug, you felt free.

When you noticed it, you had your right leg between his, but there was no impulse to pull yours back from his reach. All you wanted was to stay that way until the morning found you sharing a space that wasn’t supposed to be divided for two. You opened your eyes and moved back, just enough to look up to his face, and despite not seeing anything in that dark, you knew he was looking down at you. Both your breaths became heavy, as if a pressure established itself around you two, approaching you before you could react, first your faces, then your lips.

When the kiss happened, a little voice inside your head screamed that you should not let things to be this way, that you should not let him get away with everything just by offering you comfort – which was nothing more than his duty – that you should sleep and be prepared to the difficulties of the next day... but your body found a way to shut it up.

Your hands passed around him, reaching his hair, bringing him close; you almost smiled in the kiss when you noticed it was softer than its aspect suggested, just like his skin, smooth under the cold matter of his armor. Your fingers pressed it, still not confident enough to use your nails, but you knew that the strength applied was going to leave marks anyway. His hands were working on you as much as yours were doing to him: at some point, one of them left its place around your waist and traced a path with its fingertips through your thigh until it found the edges of your gown. They slipped under it, moving the fabric away…

A sequence of desperate punches on the room’s door, coming from the outside, woke you up and you couldn’t hold back a scream, but it was suffocated by the sound of the storm that now seemed to fall with even more violence. So you fell asleep and had one of those quick dreams that came to us when we wander between the sleep and the consciousness.

However you didn’t have time to think of it: when you sat and looked around to understand what was going on, you saw Tobirama walking toward the door and opening it.

The person behind it was another guest of the inn, a man you saw at one of the tea house’s tables when you arrived. You were still sleepy and the variations of light caused by the lightning and the shimmering flame of a candle on his hand could deceive your perception, but the man looked pale, horrified.

You left the futon and wrapped your robe around yourself before going to the door. You only caught half of the conversation, but it was enough for you to see that the guest’s agitation was justified.

- ...We need to leave and go as far as possible! Otherwise, the flood will kill us all!

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